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kuroopaisen · 4 years

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little changes | i (miya atsumu)

➵ miya atsumu is the bane of your existence. but, that means different things at different times of your life.

PART TWO

wc: 6.9k (i know)

warnings: f!reader, cursing (too much tbh)

a/n: hi i couldn’t get this out of head so here you go,,, there’ll be a second part tomorrow

The first time you'd met, he'd pushed you into a puddle.

"Slow down!" You yelled, chest heaving as you tried to catch up to the two boys ahead of you. Even at seven years old, their legs were significantly longer than yours.

The twins scrambled to a stop, looking over their shoulders at you.

"Hurry up!" Atsumu yapped. "If you can't keep up, we're gonna leave you behind."

"That's unfair!" You pouted, stumbling to a stop in front of them. "You can't just leave me out!"

Atsumu stared at you for a moment.

One clean shove, and you were on your butt, muck and water splashing up around you.

"What'd you do that for?" You yapped, looking up at the boy with a glare strong enough to kill a god.

"You were bein' annoyin'."

"Hey!"

"That's not cool, 'Tsumu," Osamu sighed, holding out a hand to you.

Atsumu shrugged, letting out a long, exaggerated yawn.

That was the day you decided that Miya Atsumu was your arch-nemesis.

Not much had changed since that day. Miya Atsumu was, to put it lightly, the bane of your existence.

Middle school brought him no maturity. If anything, he got worse. He treated you like a nuisance, your friendship with Osamu be damned. But unfortunately, the two of them were rarely apart. And apparently being around you was better than being bored.

"You can't spike a ball for shit," he mumbled, shaking his head at you.

"Oi, language!"

"Shuddup," he rolled his eyes, turning his back to you. "You're so borin'."

He always called you that. Boring.

You glared at him, clenching your fists. You were just trying to play along with them. Sure, your volleyball skills left something to be desired. But Osamu didn't mind. And you wanted to play with your friend, his shitstain of a brother be damned.

"Yeah, well–" You sucked in your breath, trying to think of something very cruel – but not profane, because you're only eleven and swearing is one of the worst things you could do – to say to him. "You're a bastard!"

He looked over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow raised. Did his silence spell your victory?

"Pig."

Nope.

That was just the first of many monikers Miya Atsumu gave to you. He had so many, in fact, that it seemed he was allergic to calling you by your name. Pig seemed to be a particular favourite.

But, you always prided yourself on being tough. It took more than a few paltry words to do some real damage to you. And you were determined to not let Atsumu get the upper hand.

And yet, some days he did. They were rare, but they stung like nothing else. It was the days he got possessive. The days he told you to piss off, that he wanted to hang out with Osamu and he didn't want you there to ruin it.

You told yourself that it didn't matter. That you couldn't care less what he thought of you. But it wasn't enough to shift that awful little feeling that came with being told you were unwanted.

"Don't listen to him," Osamu sighed, hand clumsily patting your back. "He's just… like that. He sucks."

You sniffed, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Yeah."

You were just mad at yourself for crying. Thankfully, Atsumu had stalked off before you'd crumpled. But still. You'd let him get to you. You were better than that, right? Better than him.

"I still like you," Osamu swallowed, fumbling with the right words to say in a situation like this. "I'll beat him up for you, if you want."

You shook your head, a little too vigorously. "Nah, I don't want you to get into a fight with your brother because of me."

That's what it came down to, really. The feeling that you were in the way of something important. Of something that mattered more than you. The spiteful look Atsumu would shoot you whenever Osamu spent time with you instead of him hurt most.

Osamu shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I really want an excuse to deck him in the face sometimes."

You giggled at that. It was the first time you'd smiled all day. "Thanks, 'Samu."

--------

With each year that passed, Miya Atsumu seemed to get worse. And with each year that passed, you were baffled.

How could someone have such a garbage personality? And worse yet, why was he blessed with such immense talent? You weren't an idiot, and you weren't the sort to deny credit when it was due. The twins were good. You knew jack-shit about volleyball – you'd sworn off it ever since Atsumu had been such a bastard about it – but you knew enough to know they were impressive.

They were just first years, but they were already on the starting line-up of the volleyball team. And you were quite proud of Osamu for that. It was nice to see other people recognising his talents. He'd been humble enough about it, too. Atsumu was another matter, but you'd developed something of a talent for tuning him out. So long as he wasn't insulting you directly, you could ignore him quite well. Life was much better for it.

The only bad thing about Osamu joining the volleyball team was the fact that he now hung out with them. Which wasn't a problem, per say; you were welcome to join, and they were all cordial enough. No, the issue was that sometimes spoke about girls. And nothing was more infuriating than hearing teenage boys advise one another on how to impress girls.

"You're saying I should just… ignore her?" One of the second years frowned at one of the older boys.

"Yeah," the third year nodded. "If you ignore her, she'll get all anxious about it, and she'll keep thinkin' about you."

"Huh," the second year nodded, blinking slowly. "Isn't that kind of… I dunno… mean?"

"Very," you mumbled.

"Huh?"

"If you do that, you'll seem like an asshole. Girls don't like guys like that," you sighed, head rested on Osamu's knee as you looked up at the sky.

Hanging out with the volleyball team wasn't high on your list of favourite activities. But, you had nothing better to do.

"I thought girls liked 'bad boys'," one of the third years laughed.

"I don't wanna make any generalisations," you shrugged. "But it's better if you're friends first. So you've gotta be nice to her."

You had absolutely no experience to speak of. But it seemed like the right thing to say.

"You're only saying that because you've got a thing for Osamu."

You hadn't planned on a murder today. But Suna had just changed your plans.

"Do not," you mumbled, shutting your eyes. Don't bite back, you thought to yourself. If you bite back, they'll just tease you more.

You'd actually thought about it, once. You were sixteen, after all, and ready to yearn. But, as hard as you'd tried to convince yourself that you felt something more for Osamu had fallen flat. The thought of kissing him made you laugh, when it should've made you blush. You hadn't mentioned that to him, though. Having a girl laugh at the thought of intimacy with you was probably at least a little humiliating, regardless of who she was.

"You're lying on him as we speak," one of the team snickered.

"Because I'm tired." You opened one eye to take a glance at the team. You took a moment to visualise punching them all in the face, one by one. It was almost rhapsodic. "You all suck."

"You're not even good enough for 'Samu, anyway."

Oh. Oh.

You bolted upright, glare immediately honing in on him. "Excuse me?"

Atsumu raised an eyebrow at you. "So you think you're good enough for him?"

You opened your mouth to reply. Fuck, you didn't have anything snappy to say. Was strangling him out of the question? Oh God, you could feel your face growing redder by the second. You needed to do something–

"Oi, don't use me as an excuse to make fun of her," Osamu sighed. "You don't really think that highly of me."

"That's cold, 'Samu," Atsumu grimaced. "You really think I'd be okay with you datin' this cow?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Do you like it more when I call you a pig?"

"What on earth gave you that idea, you bastard?"

Osamu rolled his eyes as the tirade began. Not a day went by without something like this happening. Atsumu said something contrarian, and you exploded like a little firecracker. You weren't the sort to start fights, usually. But there was something about Atsumu that always managed to get under your skin.

He'd hoped that finally entering high school would've taught Atsumu how to behave. He should've known to be wiser than to indulge himself in some wishful thinking.

"Does he always provoke her?" Aran asked, frowning.

Osamu nodded. "Uh huh. He gets a kick out of it."

"Hmm," Aran nodded, "knowing everything I do about Atsumu, that makes perfect sense."

"I keep tellin' her not to respond. It just eggs him on."

"Well, I guess it's kinda hard not to," Aran shrugged.

Osamu sighed. "Y'know, sometimes I just wish they'd get along."

Aran laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry man, can't see that happening any time soon."

--------

Being a teenager fucking sucked.

Getting dumped by an admittedly shitty boyfriend might've been some kind of rite of passage, but that didn't make it hurt any less. You'd tried to count your blessings, small as they may be. At least he hadn't dumped you over text, right?

Maybe it would've been better if he had dumped you over text. That would've given you a few hours at least to pull yourself together. Instead, he'd pulled you aside just before class had started, telling you that he was done with you. He hadn't even given you the chance to speak.

And then you'd had to walk into class and pretend everything was okay. A whole school day was far too long to try and pretend you had it together.

Behind the gym was the only place you'd managed to find the silence in which to mourn. You would've gone and cried in the bathroom if you could, but there was always someone in there. You didn't want to make a scene. And surely, nobody would come behind the gym.

"Oi."

Oh, fuck.

"What do you want?" You mumbled, lacking the courage to look at him.

"I was just tryin' to clear my head before practice," he said. "What're you doin' out here?”

"None of your business," you sniffed, your shoulders hunched and your fists scrunching the fabric of your skirt.

He sat down.

No. No, no, no.

"So," he cleared his throat, not quite looking at you. "I heard about… your ex."

"Great," you sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. It'd already reached Atsumu? How much did he know?

"Are you… alright?" His voice was quiet, unsure.

"What do you think?" You hissed, drawing your knees up to your chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just, uh… you've seemed kinda off today."

You shot him a look.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I just…" He sighed, hanging his head.

You pressed your lips together, trying to sift through the jumble of thoughts in your mind. It wasn't that you'd expected your relationship with that asshole to last. Far from it. You just hadn't expected it to go… like this. Not after he'd taken so much from you.

"It's just that–" The words escaped from you with a hitched breath. "It's just that… I gave him a lot, you know?" You took a deep breath. You weren't about to admit everything to fucking Atsumu of all people. But you just wanted to talk. To put the pain into words. "And he didn't have the decency to… to treat me with respect. He… He…"

"Did he hurt you?" Atsumu's tone was sharp; sharper than you'd ever heard it. He still wasn't looking directly at you. If anything, that was a small comfort.

"Not physically or anything," you shook your head, relaxing your fists. "It's just that he… he treated me like shit. And… and I liked him more than I should've, I know that, but…"

You made a valiant effort at swallowing the lump in your throat. "It just fucking sucks, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him all this. You'd already said more than you'd wanted to. But damn, did it feel good to get it off your chest.

Did you seem a bit pathetic? Fuck it. Atsumu already thought poorly of you. Letting him see you like this wouldn't be a massive hit to your pride.

And, to his credit, he's listening. You think.

"I think–" You sniffed, taking a deep breath. This was the worst part of all. "I think he's been hooking up with Eiko. Or, at least, he's been trying to."

"What, really?" Oh, he'd looked pissed. You'd never seen this amount vitriol in his face before. Not even when he was arguing with you.

"Yeah." You nodded weakly. You knew it probably wasn't Eiko's fault. And even if she had 'seduced' him, he'd still chosen to dump you over it. You just didn't have the energy to direct your anger at anyone but him.

"Fuckin' piece of shit," he grumbled. You could see him clenching his fists. You'd never thought he'd get this angry on your behalf. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Don't." You nearly reached over to grab his arm. But, you didn't. "Please, I just… I just want this to pass, okay? I don't want to create a mess."

Atsumu stared at you for one long moment. You knew he was weighing up whether or not he should listen to you. Then, he sighed. "Fine."

"Thank you," you mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You didn't know what to say, now.

"Well," he cleared his throat, finally meeting your gaze, "if he tries anythin' with you, lemme know, okay?"

You blinked, your own brow just as furrowed as his.

"He's a pig," he grunted, "and… and you deserve better than that, 'kay?"

You stared at him. Had those words really just come from his mouth? "I thought I was the pig."

Atsumu said nothing. He doesn't know what to say. You'd never really interacted like this before. Without the barbs.

He wanted to say that, even though he makes fun of you all the time, you matter. Frankly, he doesn't really know what he'd do if you weren't there for him to pick on. He's used to you being around, you know? That bred at least a little fondness. And the thought that someone had genuinely, actually hurt you pissed him off.

But he doesn't say any of that. Because he doesn't know how to. Hell, he doesn't even know what that means.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, standing to his feet. "I've gotta get back to practice."

He wants to tell you to text him if you need anything. But, he doesn't think that'll be very comforting, coming from him. So, he walked away.

"Hey, uh, Miya?"

He stopped in his tracks, just as surprised as you were. You never called him by his name.

"Could you, uh… could you keep this between us?" You asked, your throat alarmingly dry. "I'd rather 'Samu didn't know about this. I'm worried that… that he might do something stupid."

Atsumu looked over his shoulder at you. It's a small moment, a quiet one.

He just shrugs. "'Kay."

The next time you're watching them play, you're not just cheering for Osamu.

--------

It's over. Finally.

And you couldn't be more relieved.

Of course, you were going to miss your friends. And of course, all the changes that were about to come your way were fucking terrifying.

But high school sucked. And being a teenager sucked. You couldn't wait to move on from all of that. To make a real person of yourself. And you were going to Tokyo. Tokyo. You'd always lived in Hyogo; the thought of living somewhere so vastly different was downright exhilarating.

But before all that, you had to survive your goodbyes. You'd made it through the graduation ceremony well enough; in truth, you'd zoned out a little.

But now you were all outside, and it was finally time to say goodbye for good. And quite frankly, you hadn't expected to be so emotional. Honestly, you were just proud of yourself for keeping it together. Nobody else was crying – yet – and you'd be damned if you were the first person to lose composure.

You'd managed to say goodbye to most of your friends with a smile, and you'd even bid farewell to your beloved literature teacher without getting too miserable. Surely, there wouldn't be too many people left to see.

A flash of grey and yellow at your right.

Oh no. You had to speak to Osamu. That'd do it.

"Oi!" You called out, hurdling towards him.

Osamu turned around, raising a hand at you. Atsumu glanced in your direction, but he made no effort to greet you. Asshole.

"C'mere," Osamu smiled, opening his arms up.

You threw yourself into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as you supported yourself on your tip-toes. He smiled, chuckling in your ear. Good God, you were going to miss him.

"We did it," you smiled, squeezing him tight.

"Somehow." It was subtle, but you could feel the joy in his voice.

"Good job on getting into TSUJI," you beamed, dropping down as he released you from his grasp.

"Thanks," he smiled, reaching a hand up and ruffling your hair. "University of Tokyo’s nothin' to sniff at, you know."

You blushed, despite yourself. "Yeah, well…"

"Stop bein’ so humble," he said, punching you gently in the shoulder. "Make me proud, you hear?"

"You too."

And that's enough. That's all you need to say. He wasn't big on words, and that was okay. It had always been okay. You knew that you guys would stay friends. Even if everyone else fell away, if you drifted from all these people you held close… you knew you'd have 'Samu.

You heard a voice calling you. You straightened your shoulders, looking up at Osamu resolutely. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?"

"Sure," he shrugged, nodding at you.

You smiled back, feeling that persistent sting at the corners of your eyes. Your eyes flicked over to Atsumu for just a moment. He'd turned away from you once you'd thrown your arms around Osamu, opting instead to speak to some of the first years. You wondered, for one short moment, if you should try and talk to him.

Nah.

You swallowed, turning around to walk towards whoever had called your name. If you spent any more time standing still, you might not be able to hold back the tears.

You felt a tug on your sleeve, pulling you downwards.

"Oi."

You'd know that voice anywhere. "You're so rude." You shot him a glare, straightening yourself out.

Things had mellowed out a little since that day behind the gym. You wouldn't go so far as to say you were friends; he was still abrasive, and you were still struck by the urge to punch him in the face whenever he came into your field of vision.

But his words had been a little gentler. Insults abounded, but he seemed a bit more mindful. Like he was checking your mood before pushing your buttons.

Or maybe you were just imagining it. Maybe you just wanted that weird little moment between the two of you to mean something.

"What do you want, Miya?" You sighed, after a long silence.

He'd just been standing there, completely silent. He hadn't even bit back. His lips were pursed as he stared at nothing in particular. What an earth is he thinking about? You wondered.

Then, finally, he looked at you. "Wanna live together?"

You froze. Why was he so… like this? "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, hands in his pockets and an obnoxiously bored look on his face. "That's easier than findin' a roommate, right? We already know each other, and we'll both be in Tokyo."

No congratulations. No words of kindness. Nothing. Just straight to business. You weren't sure if that or the offer he'd just made was more baffling.

You bit your lip. Could there be anything worse than living with this fool? Maybe you could end up with a shitty roommate – but he'd also be a shitty roommate. How much worse could a total stranger be?

"Hey. Dickhead."

You jumped, looking up to meet his eyes. "Oh, uh… Let me think about it."

"'Kay."

And then, he was gone.

'Kay? 'Kay? That's all he'd had to say to you? After asking you to live with him? How'd he even come up with that idea? Had Osamu told him to do it? Oh, maybe it was his parents. They were quite fond of you, after all. Perhaps they thought you could keep their son in line or something.

But that wasn't your responsibility! You didn't want it to be your responsibility!

You shook your head. No, you weren't going to let this dominate your thoughts. You would worry about Atsumu later. For now, you just had to focus on getting through the rest of today.

--------

Your reasons for living with Miya Atsumu were simple.

One: you'd avoid each other. Surely, even if you were in the same apartment, you'd give each other a wide enough berth to ensure some sense of privacy.

Two: you could live like an absolute pig and it wouldn't matter. Who cared if you didn't do your dishes that evening? It only affected him. And fuck him.

Three: you'd heard one too many horror stories about friendships being torn to pieces because of shit like this. You didn't want to risk that.

Four: you didn't want to live with a stranger.

Simple as that.

And those were the four reasons you'd told Osamu, in a paltry attempt to justify yourself. He'd been sceptical, of course – and he'd said, without an ounce of goodwill, "you don't know just how bad he is to live with" – but he hadn't tried to stop you.

But one semester was already over and done with. And things were fine.

Honestly, you were still surprised that he'd even asked this of you. But, his reasons were his own, and frankly, you didn't care what they were.

Yes, he lived like a pig. And God, you'd heard him in bed one too many times because apparently he doesn't know how to be quiet.

"It's not my fault you're not gettin' any," he'd say. You always wanted to bite back and say that you were getting more than enough, thank you very much. You were just polite enough to be quiet. But, you always decided – quite wisely – that it wasn't an argument worth getting into.

But, there's something about the freedom of simply not caring if your roommate would get mad at you for some stupid mistake that made it all worth it. You were allowed to fuck up, to make all those silly mistakes every did in that transitory stage from high school to adulthood. Nothing you could do would ruin an important friendship.

You got to learn how to be a decent person without the consequences.

"Would ya mind if I had some friends over?"

Believe it or not, but this was a big step for him. A few weeks ago, and he would've just brought them over, your feelings be damned.

"When?"

"Thursday evenin'."

"What for?"

"Just catchin' up," he shrugged.

"Is this you asking me if I'm okay with it, or is it you asking me to get out of the house?" You raised an eyebrow at him, stirring your tea.

He flashed you a grin.

You rolled your eyes. "Really?"

"Come on," he propped his chin up on his fist, beaming at you from across the kitchen counter. "Surely, you don't wanna be around when there's a buncha guys in the apartment. Do you?"

"So you're going to bring them over regardless of what I say?"

Nevermind. This wasn't a step for him at all.

"Essentially," he shrugged.

You groaned, lolling your head back.

"Can't you just go to the library or somethin'?" He pouted.

"I don't have any assignments to work on," you frowned. "It's literally only week two."

"Aren't you always tellin' me it's better to get ahead early?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, biting the inside of your cheek. "Week two's overkill."

"Well, just… do your weekly readings or somethin'."

"I'd rather do them from the comfort of my own bed."

Atsumu groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I already told 'em they could come over."

Oh, you were so ready to throttle him.

"Can't you just… make yourself busy?" He shrugged. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anythin'."

"You should've thought about that before inviting them over," you growled. "Shit, what are you planning on getting up to, anyway?"

He shrugged. "It'll just stress you out."

"Miya, what the fuck–"

"One of the guys thinks you're hot."

You blinked. He really knew how to be blunt, didn't he?

"And?"

"I can't promise he won't try'n hit on you."

"Yeah, and?"

Atsumu shrugged. "I dunno. I just… thought you might be a bit uncomfortable with that."

"How does he even know what I look like?"

"I showed 'em a photo."

Oh God. Of course he did.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"I mentioned that my roommate's a chick. They wanted to see."

"Miya," you sighed, gripping your own hair. "What – and I cannot stress this enough – the fuck?"

"It didn't seem like a big deal at the time," he tilted his head at you, smiling. "I mean, I'm just as surprised at you that someone finds you attractive–"

"Shut up."

"– but I just thought you should know. Clear things up before they get too awkward, you know?"

No, you didn't.

But, you didn't really want to have this conversation anymore.

"Fine," you sighed, turning to pour the rest of your tea down the sink. For some reason, you didn't really want it anymore. "I'll find something to do."

Shouldn't be too hard. Maybe a bar or a pub would have a student's night. Maybe one of your friends would be free. There was always something to do in the city.

"I owe you one," Atsumu grinned. You had half a mind to knock his teeth out then and there.

"You really do," you sighed, rinsing your cup out.

"Already got something in mind."

"Sounds like there's a catch," you mumbled, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No catch," he held his hands up, giving you what you assumed was his best smile.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got an untrustworthy face, Miya?"

"All the time," he grinned. "Nah, but really. No catch."

You titled your head at him, waiting for a proposal of some kind.

"I'll buy you pizza."

You scoffed. "Really? That's your consolation?"

"I'll get you the expensive shit," he shrugged. "Friday night. Promise."

"Can you even afford anything that's not from the cheapskate menu?"

"Can you?"

You shrugged at that one.

"Nah, I promise, it'll be good," he sighed. "I'll make it worth it, 'kay?"

--------

Friday nights were for Atsumu.

You weren't quite sure how it started. Something to do with him being exhausted from volleyball practice. Something to do with you being exhausted from university. Something else about how neither of you had any energy left to go out and socialise.

Whatever it was, you'd settled into a comfortable rhythm. Friday night, pizza, and a shitty movie.

These days, you actually liked having him around. Not that you were going to admit to it, though. No, you'd rather die than do anything like that.

You weren't quite sure why you'd suddenly adjusted to him. Was it because you'd known him for so long? Even if he was an absolute nuisance, he was familiar. Someone you could be a goblin around, without having to worry about him wanting to end your friendship over it. No, you'd been involved with each other far too long for that.

And honestly, it was kind of nice to have someone to relax around. While you'd managed to find some people you clicked with at university… making friends was hard. There was no-one you could be an absolute pig with yet.

So, Atsumu would do for now.

You'd just finished watching Neil Breen's Fateful Findings. It had been surprisingly easy to find a copy with Japanese subtitles; that being said, you didn't feel it had given you any clarity as to what was actually going on. Atsumu had loved it, though. He'd already tried throwing some of the quotes back at you. That was sure to make him harder to live with for at least the next week or two.

"Wanna play Smash?" He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at you with a painfully cocky expression.

"Absolutely not."

"Worried I'll beat your ass again?" Did he have to smirk after every second thing he said?

You glared at him. "Wanna say that to my face?"

He grinned, turning to face you head on. "Worried I'll beat your ass again?"

"I was having an off day," you mumbled.

"Wanna prove that, or…"

You bit the inside of your cheek. If you did play, there were two possible outcomes. The first was that you won. If you won, it'd shut him up, and you could go on with your pride more or less intact. The second was that you lost. And you weren't quite sure if you could handle his ego.

"I'll prove it to you right now," you snapped. "On this couch, with my fists."

He blinked at you.

"You're going down for good, Miya."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm gonna make you squirm like the worm you are."

He laughed. A real, genuine laugh. The sort that relieved all tension from his body, erasing any hint of his usual insufferable expression.

He was actually kind of handsome.

You'd always known he had a nice body – you weren't blind, you were just too proud to admit it. And it'd gotten even nicer since graduation. Practice paid off, it seemed.

And there was something appealing about his relaxed air. About how he didn't seem to take life too seriously. It almost made him enjoyable to be around.

Maybe that's why so many girls were interested in him.

Wait, no. They only liked him because they hadn't spoken to him yet.

Oh, right. Girls.

Something shifted in your chest. Something you had never noticed before. Something so quiet, so understated that you hadn't even realised it had made its way in there.

Oh God, you thought, what the fuck is happening to me?

Whatever it was, you didn't like it.

Miya Atsumu was hot. That, unfortunately, was a fact you were now uncomfortably aware of.

"Oi." A hand was being waved in front of your face. You jumped. "Pay attention, you pig."

Oh, nope. There he was. There's the Atsumu you were used to.

"You're a fucking bastard," you mumbled, shrinking into yourself.

You're weren't quite sure what you were saying. You'd just flicked onto autopilot. But you knew that your words were comfortable, familiar. Little insults that a child would throw around. Anything to stave off whatever that weird stirring in your stomach was.

--------

In many ways, realising Miya Atsumu was actually kind of hot ruined your life.

Were you being over-dramatic? Probably. But had things changed? Definitely. To a large extent, it was on you; glances stolen when he wasn't looking, your mind wandering to places it really shouldn't.

But he'd been acting up, too. Standing far too close to you when you were in the kitchen – close enough that you could feel his chest against your back, reaching over your head to grab a cup while damn-near draping his body over you, walking around without a shirt on in the common area…

One time, when you'd dressed up all nice for a friend's birthday, he'd brazenly checked you out. He hadn't said anything – he'd just stared. When you asked him what was wrong, he just shrugged and told you to have fun. And, of course, he'd smirked at you. You'd been ready and willing to kill him.

Whenever you were on the couch, he always seemed to reach over you and take the remote himself instead of simply asking you to hand it to him. And sure, that wasn't all too weird – but he tended to get really close, and catch your eye for just a moment with that little smirk on his lips. Each and every time, you felt like you were going to explode.

You'd taken to sticking pillows between you on the couch, because you wouldn't be surprised if he decided to lay his head on your lap or some shit on a whim.

Maybe he was messing with you, but this sort of behaviour wasn't totally un-Atsumu. You'd seen him act like this with people before. It's just that you two had never really been close enough to warrant it. Was it just a symptom of the fact that you guys were kind of friends now? Was he just treating you like everyone else?

But some part of you was even angrier at that. You didn't want to be treated like everyone else.

God, you felt stupid for even feeling like that. Especially when you'd had an awkward morning chat with a few of his bedfellows – where each and every time, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was punching so far above his weight. How on earth were people this beautiful paying attention to him?

That was starting to make more and more sense recently.

You tried not to think about it.

But that was getting harder and harder to you. You'd been kind of lonely. Some quiet part of you wanted a serious relationship; someone to come home to of an evening, to relax and unwind with. You'd even been actively looking. Not that you were about to admit that to anyone.

But men are shit. Especially ones in their early twenties.

But as resolutely as you believed that, there you were, preparing for yet another date. You'd have a particularly messy string of disasters recently; men who did little more than stare at your tits, men who had nothing interesting to say, men who thought that being an asshole was a personality…

Tonight, you hoped, would be different. Sure, you'd met this guy in an econ elective – you'd needed something easy to bring your GPA up – and that certainly wasn't a point in his favour. But, he'd taken in interest in you, despite the fact you'd never really spoken before. A few months ago, you might've turned him down. But surely he'd be better than the drivel Tinder unfailingly turned out.

Only problem was that he wanted to go somewhere chic. Somewhere fancy. Somewhere that was, quite frankly, out of your comfort zone.

"Another date?" Atsumu scoffed, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom.

"What's it to you?" You grumbled, leant in close to the bathroom mirror. You couldn't get your makeup to look how you wanted it to; everything just seemed a little wonky, a little uneven. And your foundation hadn't settled nicely into your face. It just sat there, a tacky second skin you just wanted to slough off.

"Nothin'," Atsumu shrugged. "You've just never gone out on a Friday before."

Oh. That's right.

You shrugged, biting your cheek. "It's the only day he could get a reservation." In truth, you hadn't even thought about it.

"Same guy as before?"

You shook your head. You couldn't actually remember the last guy you'd told Atsumu about. The amount of bad dates you'd been on was getting embarrassing. "Nah. This one's a classy bastard."

He snorted. "You're kiddin', right?"

You shook your head. "I'm going to have to let him pay for the date because I genuinely don't think I can afford it."

"Yikes," he chuckled. "You know, I never really took you for a gold digger."

You had half a mind to throw your mascara at him. "Shut up."

"If you keep faffin', you'll be late."

Shit, He was right. You checked your phone. 5:25. You had five minutes to leave. You picked it up and made your way to the door, ready to squeeze past Atsumu. You turned, dashing back to the mirror and poking at your hair.

"Stop worryin'," he chuckled, waving a hand at you as he began to walk away. "You look nice."

Those words stuck with you all the way to the restaurant. They were so simple, so innocuous, but… They were touching, coming from him.

And when your date was talking to you about something you simply didn't find interesting, you couldn't get that look on Atsumu's face out of your head.

--------

The date was a veritable disaster. Possibly the worst you'd had in a while.

First of all, the guy was a total asshole. And not just the Atsumu kind – no, this one was rich. He'd had his entire life handed to him on a silver platter, and it showed. You could tolerate it, at first. But when he'd literally said, "I don't think the poor should be allowed to vote," you knew you couldn't stick around.

Second of all, you couldn't stop thinking of Atsumu and his damn smirk.

You'd gotten up without even giving your date an explanation. You'd stormed out of the restaurant in a rage, resolute on walking all the way home.

Why did it always turn out this way? The guys were either assholes, or far too self-centred for a proper relationship. If they were neither of those things, there was just no chemistry between the two of you.

God, were you the problem? Were good people just not attracted to you?

What were you supposed to do?

To top it all off, it began to rain when you were just halfway home.

As you slammed the door, you looked as awful as you felt.

Atsumu flinched, sprawled out in front of the television. He sat up a little straighter, looking at you from over the back of the couch.

"Yikes!" He scoffed. "You look like shit!"

Your breath caught in your throat. No. No, you weren't going to take this from him right now. Not tonight.

"Y'know, you wouldn't've gotten rained off if you'd just stayed in," he chuckled, propelling himself off the couch and ambling his way over to you. "What a waste…"

He came to a stop in front of you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. He had that look on his face; that insufferable smirk he whipped out whenever he'd beaten you in something menial. That smirk that, in any other circumstance, would've made you want to punch him. But tonight, it just made you want to cry.

"You haven't said anythin'," he frowned, tilting his head at you. "You okay?"

You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him that it was fine, that the mascara dappling your cheeks was just the result of the rain.

But you couldn't. You couldn't get the words out of your mouth.

You took a deep breath.

You stopped breathing. His arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. It was rough, the embrace of someone who wasn't used to tenderness. There's this strange stiffness to it, an admission that he doesn't really know what he's doing. But as he rests his head on your chin, you couldn't be more grateful for his efforts. Your hands found their way to his chest, balled up and tense.

"Hey," he mumbled, "hey. It's going to be okay."

You looked up at him, your throat sore from holding back a sob and eyes stinging from unshed tears.

Maybe it's because you're emotional. Or because you're tired. Or maybe it's because you're lonely, and he said a few nice things to you today.

You kissed him.

It's hot, open-mouthed as your fists grasped his shirt, pulling him down to meet you.

Your head is swimming; what the fuck is happening?

His arms tensed around you, his lips moving to meet yours.

This is what you want. This is what you've wanted for a while now. You hadn't wanted to go on all those shitty dates. You hadn't wanted to waste your time with men you didn't care about. What you'd wanted was–

He froze.

So did you.

His hands are holding your forearms firmly as he stepped back, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"No, baby." He shook his head. "Not like this."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You flew down the hall, slamming your bedroom door.

You sank to the floor, arms finding their way around your knees. You didn't want to cry. You didn't want to dignify this evening with that. You weren't going to pity your own shitty mistakes.

Fuck the date. That wasn't even the worst part of the night.

You'd just kissed Miya fucking Atsumu. Things were finally going okay between the two of you. He'd been treating you like a human being.

And now you'd ruined it.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #haikyuuwritersnet #IDK WHAT TAGS ARE #also i can't believe i'm putting in this much effort for atsumu #mayhaps i enjoy him a little #ANYWAY here's part one of my labour of love #2nd part's up tomorrow!

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harrystylesleftkneecap · 4 years

Text

Mint and chapstick

Warnings : Slight smut, spanking, poly (sorta) cussing, nudity.

(JJ maybank x reader x John b)

A/N: Uh so this is something I’ve literally been looking for but couldn’t find it anywhere so I just wrote it myself. It’s bad, it’s kinda nasty, and there are mistakes everywhere. I have another imagine written that’s more soft JJ and includes slight (breastfeeding sorta kinda). So let me know if you want to see it. But just enjoy ig lmao. GIF isn’t mine but the writing and ideas are.

“Come here...now y/n” JJ spoke, patting his knees.

You stared at him in disbelief, he wouldn’t. Not here. Not now.

“JJ i-“ you started, but jj quickly cut you off.

“That’s not my name” he corrected, a smirk forming across his face.

You glanced at John B who was sitting across from JJ. He looked fine, not confused one bit.

“He knows you’ve been a bad girl y/n, you haven’t been behaving and this may be the only way to get you to.” JJ said. He was enjoying this way too much.

Shakily letting out a breath, you looked down at your feet that slowly began making their way towards JJ.

“How many John b, 10,20?” He asked his friend.

John b finally spoke up, “20 sounds good to me.”

You gasped slightly and turned towards your friend, your body burning in embarrassment.

“What is 20 not enough for you?” John b started “you have been kinda bratty lately.” He finished with a smirk.

“N-no, 20 is fine.” You breathed, turning back to your boyfriend.

Arousal began pooling between your legs. This was so wrong, wasn’t it? John b shouldn’t be involved in you and JJ’s sex life. But for some reason, you began getting excited for the events to come.

“Come on, be a good girl for daddy.” JJ spoke, patting his legs once more.

You sat on his lap, not facing either of the boys. You intended to keep it that way, until JJs rough hands gripped your chin and pulled you to face him.

“Don’t be shy now baby, you’ve been talking about John B an awful lot now haven’t you?” He questioned, tracing your lips with his ring clad thumb.

He lightly shook you, “answer me pumpkin.”

“Y-yes daddy.” You mewled.

You had been thinking about this since JJ brought it up. But you didn’t think he would do it so suddenly. Maybe a casual ‘hey I think we’re gonna try this now’ would have helped calm your nerves.

“That’s right, now shirt or no shirt?” He sent a questioning glance to his friend manspreading in the chair across the room.

“Hmm, no shirt.” He responded

“Great idea, you heard him honey.” He told you, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

You slowly stood to remove your cami, facing John b as he smiled.

JJs hands found your hips as your shirt lifted, your tan skin and perky breasts finally being freed from the fabric. He rubbed small circles in your hips and turned you toward him.

His blown out pupils and messy hair didn’t help the wetness quickly pooling in your shorts.

Reluctantly, you crawled into his lap. Pressing your chest into his legs and resting your palms on the floor.

“That’s my good girl.” Jj cooed, sliding his hands into the pale pink pajama shorts you were wearing. He squeezed your ass lightly, almost reassuring you.

You had talked about this before, JJ thought it would be a nice change. You were reluctant at first, but couldn’t get the idea of someone watching you out of your head. Either way, this is just like you had talked about.

As he slid your shorts down to your ankles John B spoke again, “no underwear, I think that calls for an extra 5.”

JJ let’s out a light chuckle,” I think it does too, you know better pumpkin.” He continues by running his hands over the smooth skin of your ass, moving to the pool of arousal in between your legs.

“Why are you acting so shy? The pool in between your legs is telling me you’re enjoying this much more than you’re letting on.” He says, the smirk playing on his face has yet to dissipate.

John B let’s out a light laugh as your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“It’s okay y/n, no need to hold back because of me.” John b speaks, placing his arms behind his head simply admiring the sinful view situated before him.

JJ moves his hands from between your legs and rests them on your lower back. “You know how this goes y/n, count each of them. Afterwords you apologize, and if you do well you’ll get a kiss... from both of us.”

You turn to look at your boyfriend, surprised That he’s letting John B get in on more action than you had previously thought.

“O-okay.” You shakily let out.

“Alight pumpkin, you ready?” JJ asks.

“Yes daddy.” You reply, your words coming out stronger than before from anticipation.

You close your eyes anticipating the first blow, and when JJs hand connects with your ass you let out a quiet moan as fire burns through you.

“One.” You began.

The second blow was harder than the first, but that doesn’t mean you liked it any less.

“Two.”

The third comes down, and his force isn’t helping your arousal one bit.

You let a louder moan slip as you count the third. And JJ smirks at you.

“Sometimes I think you’re bratty just so I’ll spank you. You enjoy this too much, maybe I’ll have to find another way to punish you.”

As you reach the 20th blow, your ass is burning. and tears began to form in your eyes. The pressure building in your stomach becomes harder and harder to control. And you begin to think that you may fall apart without any other stimulation.

“John B, you wanna get the last 5?” JJ suddenly asks.

You open your eyes and look at the other boy, who nods his head and rises from his spot in the chair.

“Okay, you be a good girl for John B.” JJ says, helping you stand from your spot on his lap.

Standing completely bare in front of the two very attractive boys had you squirming, reaching to cover your breasts as John B walks over.

Before you could, he reaches and grabs your arms. “None of that now, we all know you aren’t shy.” He speaks lowering down to your eye level.

JJ sits back on the chair John B was previously in. Watching in awe as his beautiful girl lays over his best friends lap. This was all he could have ever asked for.

He helps you situate over his cargo shorts, staring at the red marks JJ had left previously.

“Jesus man, these rings gotta hurt.”

“She likes them” JJ replies, making you let out a soft laugh as your boyfriend shoots you a wink.

“You ready?” John B asks, as he brings his hands over the reddened skin.

“Yes-“ you began, turning to look at JJ asking how to adress his best friend.

“Sir, yes sir.” JJ says.

Taking a breath you speak,” yes sir, I’m ready.”

John B was playing it cool, just like JJ had told him. JJ said that you likes being controlled, and he had to act cool if it was really going to get you going.

John Bs first blow wasn’t very hard, and you didn’t expect it to be. You hadn’t thought he had ever done anything like this before.

“Y-you can go harder.” You told him, making JJ stifle a laugh.

“I told you bro, she likes it.”

John B chuckles as he lands his second blow, causing a sinful whine to fall past your lips.

“Twenty two.”

As John B lands his last one, tears have spilled over, running down your cheeks.

JJ rises and sits down on the couch beside you two, pulling you to stand in front of them.

“I think you owe us an apology now.” He says, that sinful smirk still playing on both of their faces.

Still completely bare, you took a shaky breath and wiped your tears.

“I’m sorry I was a brat, it won’t happen again.”

JJ hums, “oh yes it will, but I think that was a great apology.” He turns to John B.

“Yeah, perfect.” John B smiles.

You smile at the two boys like a child. More than Happy with the events that had just occurred.

“Cmere baby.” JJ laughs and pulls you into a sweet embrace, pulling away to kiss you softly. He sits you on his lap and he pulls away, pushing your hair behind your ears and wiping the remaining tears.

“Now I think you owe John B something.”

You turn to John b and he places his hands on your face to pull you in for a kiss.

His lips were softer than you had imagined. He didn’t taste like JJ. JJ tastes like smoke and sweet liquor. John B tastes more like mint and and, was that your chapstick?

“Have you been using my chapstick?” You asked as you pulled away.

John b let out a laugh, “maybe!” He smirked.

You all fell into a fit of giggles, and JJ threw your shirt and shorts back at you.

“Get dressed, and put on some underwear princess. You know the rules.” JJ said, falling back onto the couch.

“Damn, her ass is tore up.” John B spoke in disbelief as you pulled your cami over your head.

“Honestly it’s not the worst it’s ever been, like that one time-“ you began, but JJ quickly cut you off.

“Dont even fucking mention that, God I was so mad.” He sighed, covering his face with his hands.

You laughed and wiggled into your shorts before falling back in between the two boys.

You fell into a peaceful silence before the front door swung open and kie ran in pulling pipe behind her.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” She asked, throwing her bag onto the floor and walking into the kitchen.

“Ah, nothing much,” John B groaned, standing from the couch and following her into the kitchen.

JJ pulled you into a hug and kissed your head. “Did you enjoy that?” He whispered

You nodded.

“Wanna do it again?”

You nodded again.

“Sounds good pumpkin.” He smiled, standing to shake hands with pope.

“Y/n where’s your chapstick?” Kie suddenly asked, coming back into the living room with John b behind her.

“Oh it’s in my purse, hang on.” You told her, rising from you spot on the couch and bending over to reach for your purse on the floor.

“HOLY SHIT WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ASS.” Kie screams, running up to you to get a better look.

Dumbfounded you tried to come up with a reply.

“You and JJ need to chill out, and John B I’m surprised you let this happen under your roof!” She scoffed, causing the three boys to burst into laughter.

“I cannot believe you guys! After all I’ve done for you! And you come into my humble abode and do sinful things! Unbelievable!” John B scoffs, falling back onto the couch.

“Here’s your fucking chapstick.” You mumbled, handing Kie your cherry lip balm.

“Thanks.”

You look over to the two smirking friends on the couch, only hoping for something similar to happen again.

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank smut #john b imagines #jj imagine #jj x reader #outer banks smut #daddy #jjpope #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #chase stokes

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dulcechocochips · 3 years

Text

𝒜𝓉𝓎𝓅𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁

Chapter 3 : ↫↫↫ Beach Day ↬↬↬

"Nendou, remind me why you have an inflatable whale? And why we're in front of Saiki's house?" Y/n asks him. She had run into him when she was running some errands. He asked her if she wanted to tag along with him to ask Saiki to hang out. She had nothing better to do that day. She had realized she hadn't asked him where they were going.

"I need to ask my bud if he wants to go to the beach with us!" He explains to her. Oh, the beach, haven't been there in a while. She hums.

"Well, I have to go to my apartment to get changed before we go, alright?" She says to him. He agrees just as he knocks on the door. The door opens and she sees a woman with short black hair. She seems to be quivering in fear. Nendou's face is kinda scary. Y/n couldn't help but think. She shook her head at her thoughts.

"K-Kusuo is this boy your friend?" The woman stuttered out. He's not my friend. Saiki tells his mother. She bursts into tears, crying about how her little boy finally has a friend. Y/n smiles at her.

"Saiki, you never said you had a sister!" Y/n turned to her.

"Oh dear, you think I look young enough to be Ku's sister." She says while more tears stream down her face. How many times are you gonna make her cry? Saiki asks.

"Wait, you're Saiki's mom?" Y/n asks with a bewildered expression. She looks so young. She has so much expression, wonder why Saiki doesn't. Saiki hears her thoughts and rolls his eyes.

"Guilty as charged." She says.

"Wow, you look so young! You're beautiful!" Y/n compliments.

"Oh, you flatter me too much." She says, smiling. "So what brought you two lovely rays of sunshine here?" She asks. Oh wow, she's so sweet, I could die. Y/n thinks. Saiki hears this and can't help but wonder if she's crazy or something.

"Nendou and I were going to the beach and wanted to know if Saiki wanted to come with!" Y/n said to her.

"Oh! That's so fun!" She exclaims.

"Uh, yeah, I'm not going. Sor-" "Your friends went out of their way to ask you in person. You're going to the beach, Kusuo." She cuts him off. Her voice suddenly dropping, sending shivers down Y/n's spine. She puts her hand up to her mouth to avoid making a sound. Oh, dear. Saiki's face drains of colour.

"Ok! We'll be leaving now, Mrs. Saiki! We'll have your son home before you know it!" Y/n says waving at her. "I have to stop by my apartment first, you guys can come with. You can make yourselves at home while I pack my stuff." She says taking her keys out of her pocket. "Welcome to my humble abode, gentlemen." She says, unlocking the door. She has a quaint apartment. "I don't usually have guests, so I only have one pair of sandals, so just take off your shoes." She says locking the door.

"Nice place you got here, Y/n," Nendou says walking around the living room. Saiki does take into account that the apartment is exceptionally clean. He can appreciate that.

"Oh, haha, thanks Nendou." She says. "Give me a couple of minutes, I need to get my stuff ready. Um, the TV remote is on the coffee table, feel free to turn it on." She smiles. She walks down the hall and into her room. Saiki couldn't care less about what's on TV right now. It's all reruns, so it doesn't matter. Instead, he walks around the living room, inspecting various pictures. In one he sees a little girl smiling. She's wearing glasses that appear to big for her face. Hm, she looks adorable. Saiki thinks, unwillingly. He suddenly stops himself. As he's questioning his life choices, Nendou walks up behind him.

"What ya doing, buddy?" He asks. He sees the picture of a young Y/n. "Oh, you're looking at her, gotta admit, she was a cute kid." Nendou states. For whatever reason, those words made his stomach drop.

"Well, I'm ready to leave, guys!" Y/n says walking out into the living room. They both turn to her and nod. "Alright gamers! To the beach!" She exclaims excitedly. Nendou also lets out a sound of approval.

So now we see all the students at the beach. Kaidou had somehow tagged along with them. Why he did, no one shall know. "Kaidou, can you swim?" Y/n asks the blue-haired boy. She had a sneaking suspicion that he couldn't.

"W-what? Of course, I can!" He exclaims nervously.

"It's ok if you can't, ya know?" She says reassuringly. He shakes his head rapidly. "Alright if you insist, I'm gonna go ask Saiki if he wants something from the ice cream shop. Do you want anything?" She asks him.

"N-no, I'm good!" He said. Kaidou wouldn't admit that he couldn't stomach anything at the moment. She gave him a thumbs up walked over to Saiki who was sitting under an umbrella with a book. Before she could even say anything, Kaidou started to drown. Drowning in one-inch deep water is impressive. She thinks. She hears the rumble of a stampede. Oh, it's just Hairo. Hairo dives in after Kaidou and his shorts slip.

"Oh my God." Y/n says turning away from the scene. "I did not need to see that." She says with an awkward smile. Her cheeks were a tad bit flushed. Saiki saw this, mentally taking a picture of it. "Uhm, anyway, I was gonna go get something from the ice cream shop, you wanna come with?" She asked Saiki. Nendou and Hairo with Kaidou in his arms. "Oh, is there anything you want from the ice cream shop, Nendou? Hairo?" She asked the boys.

"Nah, I can't have that when on the job," Hairo comments before hearing a scream from the water. He rushes off to their rescue. She looks at Nendou who's already left and trying to talk to the different girls at the beach.

"Well, if you wanna come with, I'll buy you whatever you want." She smiles at Saiki. He just stands up and starts walking.

"I just don't want people to think I'm with him." She beams and walks a little faster to catch up with him.

"What're you gonna get, Saiki?" She asks him. He shrugs and keeps walking. "Well, I'm gonna get a chocolate vanilla swirl, that's my favourite!" She exclaims. She's like a child. He thinks to himself as he sees her skip a couple of steps ahead. "I think they have coffee flavoured ice cream? I think I've seen it online. It looks pretty good." She said opening the door.

"That does sound kinda good." Saiki comments. His interest is peaked. He may be an all-knowing psychic, but you don't know what you don't know. They walk into the air-conditioned shop.

"Hey Saiki, does the menu say anything about a chocolate vanilla swirl?" Y/n asks, embarrassed.

"Do you not know how to read?" He asks her. She scrunches her face up in irritation.

"Of course I do!" For the most part. Saiki raises an eyebrow at that thought. "I just haven't been able to find my glasses!" She says in a stubborn tone.

"I'll just order for the both of us. Don't strain your vision." He says looking away from her. Y/n feels her heart flutter. She smiles brightly at him.

"Aw! Thanks, Saiki, you're so nice!" She comments. Don't make a big deal out of it. He thinks. They wait in line for their turn to order and Y/n pulls out her wallet and gives the bill to Saiki. Saiki looks at the bill. "Well, hurry up and give it to the cashier, Saiki!" She says, urging him on. Saiki doesn't bother to retort. Where does she get all this money from? He thinks. "Don't worry about that, Saiki!" She waves off his question. How does she keep hearing things that aren't meant for her to hear? They both walk out, ice creams in hand.

They sit under the umbrella until the sun goes down. Y/n is lying down on the sand, looking at her friends playing around with each other in the shallow water. Saiki sits beside her with a book in hand. She gets up and walks to the concrete sidewalk, phone in hand. Saiki doesn't bother asking where she's going. She makes it up to the sidewalk. She opens the camera app and positions it so that all her friends are in the shot, along with the setting sun. The phone lets out a quiet click. She looks over the picture with a cheery smile.

Saiki looks over at the girl, noticing the pleasant smile on her face. He can't help but realize how the setting sun projects a warm look about the girl.

---

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Masterlist

WORD COUNT : 1502

#saiki x reader #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k #x reader #kusuo

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 3 years

Text

The Spirit of Christmas

Did someone order a Christmas fic? Oneshot. Erik is being hassled by his annoying neighbor.

Erik's eyes drooped as he looked down on the overgrown child standing before him, short, bundled up, and grinning in a hideous bulky sweater that Christmas threw up. Gold bells dangled from her sleeves. There were multicolored puff balls. His four-year-old play niece couldn't even make anything that ugly. Wasn't she embarrassed? No, she'd have to be somewhat aware for that to kick in.

From the moment she knocked on his door back in April with that same unsettling grin and an offering of rabbit-shaped cookies to let him know she was his new neighbor, he knew there was something wrong with her mentally, he just didn't know what. Needless to say the cookies went in the trash and from then, he'd made it a point to avoid her. He'd tried! On God he had, but as hard as he tried was as strong as she would not let that happen.

What went through that happy little empty head of hers? Did it sound like air blowing through or were there little dancing elves singing all day like Smurfs? As she beamed up at him, he didn't like the hope in her eyes. She was gonna ask for something and it was never anything simple like sugar or flour.

"Merry Christmas neighbor!" Her large dimples sank in. She looked sneaky.

He threw the door shut, but stopped when he heard a loud squeak. Her hand was in the crack blocking the door from closing in her face. That had to have hurt. Opening the door, he started to ask if she was okay but she spoke first, rubbing her hand with a slight wince.

"I've been watching you."

His eyebrows went down knitting together.

"I've seen a lot.. Things you don't think I've seen," she bragged with a smug cross of her jingling arms. Erik stiffened thinking of the bands of cash sitting out on his coffee table.. drugs in a duffel on the floor. His eyes narrowed.

"Oh?" His eyes flickered to the neighboring apartment doors as he wondered who else was watching. "What you see?"

She pushed her index into his chest. "You haven't had visitors since I moved in! No friends.. no family!"

Erik exhaled his relief. "I'm not a people-person."

"If you're a people, you're a person. That makes you a people person," she chirped. Again she made no sense. Erik took a long blink closing the door more carefully this time. "Wait," her hand jetted out again. It was the other hand now blocking the door from shutting.

"What do you want, Jessica," Erik waved impatiently leaning with his elbow on the door frame.. partially to support his resting weight and partially to keep her out. She liked to be nosey looking into his apartment past his body, craning her neck to get into his business.

"I'm doing Christmas in Pittsburgh with the fam, come with me."

He almost spit.

"No."

She blocked the door again and he rolled his eyes putting his head briefly on the door.

"Jessica, I'm tryna be nice 'cause I don't know quite what's wrong with you... but you pushing it."

"It's Christmas spirit! Oh Erik, can't you feel it? It's all around us! 🎵 Christmas is the time of year for being with the one's we love. Sharing so much joy and cheer," she sang. "What a wonderful fe'-"

"PLEASE..."

She froze.

"Don't sing..," he whispered. "Look I have plans. Thanks for the invite but I can't make it."

"Hm." Her finger pointed hard and accusingly. "Erik Stevens you're lying to me! You spend every holiday here in this apartment. I know!" Looking around first, she leaned forward. "I check..."

"With who?"

"This won't do! You gotta get into the festivities, it's Christmas, the most wonderful time of the year!"

"Busy."

"But-"

That was all she got out before the door closed in her face. Erik didn't like holidays. To him, they were regular days but worse because everyone seemed so damn happy as if reality had somehow slipped away. He couldn't just forget real life so easily, he wasn't built that way. Finishing his count, he stored his cash and started on dinner.

"A man fires a rifle for many years and he goes to war. He comes home and he sees that whatever else he may do with his life like build a house, love a woman, change his son's diaper but he will always remain a jarhead," Swoff said onscreen as Erik shoveled a forkful of cheesy pasta into his mouth. This was reality. War, death, power struggle, and debauchery.

A series of knocks on his door had Erik rolling his eyes again. He ignored it until he realized she wasn't leaving then he paused the movie.

"What," he yelled swinging his door open to that same annoying grin.

"Erik, don't close the door! Please, come with me it'll be so much fun. It's twenty minutes away!"

"NO."

"You'll get a present!"

"Nuh-what kinda present? Not one of those ugly ass sweaters I hope."

"Oh this," she chuckled pulling on a bell. "My mom sewed it.. One night and I won't bother you ever again... until New Year's."

"Bye," the door closed.

"Okay okay!" She blocked it. "You won't hear a peep from me until Memorial Day, thank you for your service!"

"My what?"

"I accidentally got your mail one day, you had a VA appointment."

Erik could feel the intense irritation palpable and radiating on his skin.

"I swear, you won't see or hear me just one night of fun," she beamed, blinking quickly with praying hands. Erik sighed looking back at his leftovers to put away.

"Do you promise?... You won't look at me, talk to me, bother me if I go with you this one night?"

---

The ride took twenty-five minutes, five minutes longer than she'd said and she'd sang the entire ride. He was Christmas'd out already. Then he saw the house surrounded in snow.

It was a humble cream colored house with white around the windows and a red door decorated with a wreath. Multicolored lights lined the roof and an inflatable snowman stood guarding the bushes out front. Jessica giddily bounced behind the wheel turning off the car including the heat and Erik was forced to follow her into the residence. The door wasn't locked. They were greeted with heat, strings of Christmas lights, a tall tree decked in pricey looking ornaments, and the sound of old music. Erik knew the song by Bing Crosby.. but he didn't like it.

"Mommy! Daddy! I'm home!"

"My baaby," a woman's voice came, chased by an older woman with neatly arranged grey twists pinned by a mistletoe hair clip. She was definitely a Claire Huxtable type in a white silk blouse, red lipstick, pearls, a red skirt, and low heels. Why wasn't she as tacky as her daughter? Hadn't she made that hideous sweater? She hung onto Jessica, smiling and swaying her back and forth in her arms as if she hadn't seen her in a while.. and then she noticed Erik and straightened. "Ooh. Where are my manners," she smiled looking between him and her daughter as if she were missing something she'd ask Jessica about later in private. Erik felt only mildly uncomfortable. "I'm Ernestine... you are?"

"Mom, this is my neighbor, Erik. I told you he was cute! Ain't he HOT!"

Ernestine's brow raised at her daughter and Erik wondered if something really was wrong with Jessica.

"He has dimples like me! He-"

"Okay dear, that's nice. Erik could I speak to you for a moment?" Ernestine smiled gently but he could read it. She had something serious to say. Following her into the kitchen where casserole dishes and pots and pans of food sat, he could smell cooking like he hadn't smelled in a couple of months. She cooked like his late grandmother and it made him salivate. Greens, shrimp, chicken, ham, mac and cheese, yams, potato salad. He could almost taste it.

"Sorry I'm not really dressed," he offered with Ernestine waving him off.

"Not at all.. Erik..," she paused choosing her words carefully. "What.. exactly.. do you.. know.. about my daughter?"

Erik felt her meaning between the words. "Not much," he admitted. "We're just neighbors. Is she..." He didn't know how to ask it.

"She's eccentric" was the answer. "A little.. different than most."

Erik swallowed his response.

"I know," Ernestine nodded seemingly reading his mind. She must've been used to it. "But I look at it this way.. It's rare that such a beautiful spirit is born into this world, since she was a baby that's never changed. She's our angel.. Please, I know it's not your responsibility but.. look out for her. Will you?"

"Sugarplum," a booming voice yelled from the living room taking the attention. When Erik looked back to Ernestine she smiled and he followed her from the kitchen to see a heavyset older black man shaking Jessica in his arms as she grinned.

"Me next," a younger guy said. From the context, Erik could see it was father and brother. Donald and Joshua who was probably in his early twenties. They both nodded to him as he smiled politely, hands clasped in front of himself. "What you been up to sis? Staying outta trouble I hope."

She shared a few tales from her job. He didn't know she was a dentist, it shocked him completely. Was she really smart enough? Apparently so.

"And I told Mr. MacDougall the SNUGGLE is real," she snickered tickled rosy by her own joke to her patient. She laughed from her nose, forever on the verge of snorting while her family looked at her like she was the baby Jesus. They really did adore her. "But wait! There's MYRRH!!!" Tears leaked from her eyes from laughing and Erik found himself smiling to blend in.

"Oh phooey, Erik, don't be a phoney," Jessica wiped her eye, still shuddering in her laughter. She threw a white pillow from the leather couch at him and he caught it feeling suddenly awkward. "You never laugh at my puns! That's what makes it's so funny," she gasped in stitches. "Mr. MacDougall didn't laugh either. He just stared like he was so confuuused," she wheezed, her nostrils flaring like headlights. It broke her brother who snorted. "I swear I love your faces!"

"Hey hey!" A voice came from the front door as a woman with a brown fur vest scooted inside to the living room with matching brown boots followed by a small group of happy people carrying gifts. They kissed the rest of the family, laughing and talking about everything from rowdy kids to the snow. They seemed like a normal family, everyone but Jessica. She jumped up quickly to take the gifts adding them under the bigass fir tree and Erik wondered what type of gifts they gave and how he'd get one.

Jessica hugged every single person in that group as well as the next. The house was full and loud with laughter, stories, and the sound of kids running back and forth.

"SIT YA ASS DOWN," he heard an auntie growl at a kid only a little older than his play niece. The kid looked at her, sitting immediately.. reminding him of his childhood with his family. "Excuse me," the woman waved apologetically when she made eye contact, but it made Erik feel comfortable. He smiled.

When the family played charades, he sat quietly and hoped they wouldn't call him up and he was lucky because they were too busy competing for a turn, each person imitating a family member and getting roars of laughter followed by an "I am not like that" or an "AND?!" The reactions tickled Erik more than anything. He tried to watch each family member from then to see if the impressions were accurate and he laughed to himself on the ones he could personally confirm.

"Hey Erik," one of the men called from around the kitchen table. The seats were full all around with additional folding chairs pulled up. "Prettyboy like you know how to play spades?"

Erik's brows rose and he blew out a breath. "Old man.. you sure you in the mood to lose?" The man's face dropped and instantly Erik felt his foot in his mouth. He'd gone too far.

"..I think you got a challenge, Lem," the man beside him on his right smirked, coughing to hide his laugh. Lem cut the cards after the man to his left shuffled.

"I'll ask you the same question when you're digging this old foot out ya ass," Lem chuckled and another man stood to let Erik sit. Erik played four successful games before Jessica appeared over his shoulder whispering loudly in his ear. He controlled his shudder feeling the air on his face.

"Christmas scavenger hunt," she said pulling him from the chair. "My neighbor," she explained to the table, hugging him proudly. "Okay, let's go!"

The outdoor scavenger hunt happened in the backyard in the dark. Erik didn't understand why his wrist had to be tied to Jessica's. It wasn't like any scavenger hunt he'd done, not that he'd done one since he was eight and that was for Easter.

"Follow me," Jessica pulled as if he had a choice. She fell almost instantly. "Owww, I bongo'd my booty," she pouted seriously, rubbing her butt.

"..Now I gotta get outta here," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"I said did you see that reindeer."

"What reindeer?" She looked puzzled but forgot it fast.

She pawed through trees and got down on her knees in the snowy grass to feel around which was more than anyone else was doing. They were mostly talking and enjoying the view of the bright sky. It was a beautiful night. The more Jessica searched through the snow, Erik began to think of her hands. She wasn't wearing gloves. Her hands had to be freezing. He looked around at the guests standing around casually.

"Jessica.. I don't think you'll find anything under the snow let's look somewhere else."

"I'm like a bloodhound for this, I can smell it!" She continued to shift snow, digging on her knees shifting around the ground and Erik's mind went to Ms. Ernestine.

"Jessica.. stand up," he whispered through his teeth tugging her up with a quick yank of his wrist. "It's too cold for you to be digging through snow with your bare h-" There was a plastic ornament in her palm, a proud grin on her face.

"I knew it," she leaned in with a conspiratorial smile. "Joshua planted it and he's not that creative," she whispered giddily. "He must have done it before the snow... WE FOUND IT! WE FOUND THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS! WE WIN! YES!! TAKE THAT LOOOOSERRS!!"

As the round of applause and some disappointed groans followed, Erik felt awkward standing with her as she gloated in her ridiculous victory dance but he couldn't negate that... she was right. Once untied, he stood next to her as she turned in the ornament to Ms. Ernestine exchanging it for two small red gift boxes. Handing Erik one, she beamed at him and the small crowd.

"Same time."

He nodded and at the same time they opened the boxes.

"Socks!!! Oh my God I love fuzzy socks," she spazzed bending backward to cheer at the sky. When Erik looked in his box, he looked up at the crowd and Ms. Ernestine. Was it really cool to accept this? Should he give it to Jessica? "What did you get," Jessica asked. He showed her. "Eh.. it's nice but I like mine better," she winked. It was a $100 bill. She could've had tons of socks. He sat down their boxes and felt her hands, they were still cold.

"Let's go inside and warm up," he nodded toward the house glad when Ms. Ernestine agreed, announcing that it was definitely time to eat. She said the prayer as people held hands and Erik couldn't remember the last time anyone around him had held hands to pray. "Let me get that for you. You want a lil everything?" He stepped in to fix an older lady's plate so she wouldn't lose her seat or wait in line. That led to him fixing three different plates for people but Jessica was right there with him, smiling the whole time. "Have a seat," he told her, doubling down when she politely declined. "You've done enough, enjoy your family."

Confused, she did what he suggested and he brought her food and drink to her in the living room before finding a nearby seat. She was just as quirky as ever, saying things that made no sense, but Erik was too into the food to care. He ate three plates and drank two eggnogs.

Right when he thought he'd go into a food coma, he heard his name.

"Erik," a gruff voice called from the dining room. It was her dad waving him over where most of the men were. "Hey, do me a favor and go upstairs to the room on the right and grab that jar from the top shelf of my closet.

Erik looked around briefly with slightly widened eyes for Joshua but didn't see him.

"You want me to..," he questioned.

"Yeah, son, go get it and bring it here. Thanks."

Son, Erik thought as he went up the stairs. The man barely knew him yet called him son. This family was something else and it wasn't something he was used to.

In the closet was a glass mason jar full of pocket change and dollars of varying values. There were 50s in there. The fact that he was trusted to retrieve it spoke volumes. He carried it down the stairs carefully fulfilling his mission to get it back to Mr. Donald who thanked him asking no questions.

"And the jar this Christmas... goes to.. drumroll," he commanded getting a loud drum of hands on laps, tables, and walls. "DREW!"

"YES," a teenage boy shouted hurriedly finding his way forward to pose beside Mr. Donald with the jar. His grin full of braces was as big as Jessica's in that moment and when Erik glanced at Jessica, she waved. He nodded back with a small smile. She was beginning to grow on him... just a little.

When the house erupted in carols, he didn't feel pressured to sing. He sat and listened, smiling at the little kids who sang the loudest with the drunk uncle leading in an offbeat baritone. It was a warm feeling he'd forgotten.

And then they exchanged gifts with some people opening there's on the spot and some people taking theirs to go along with several plates of food.

"Erik," Jessica smiled bouncing happily in front of him like she had the best news. She put a red and green gift box in his hands. The dog design was tacky, but he could look past that now. "Open it now," she rushed and when he did, he was taken aback.. again. "I made this on the off chance that you'd say yes and come home for the holidays with me."

His fingers rolled over his face pasted on top of a photoshopped body added to her family's group photo and it was the most bizarre and lowkey creepy gift he'd ever gotten.. but in that way, it was also perfect which hit different. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't stop looking at it.

"Ew... Don't get all soft on me now Stevens," she blurted rolling her eyes with genuine disgust. What kind of response did she expect? He laughed thinking about it.

"Come here," he grabbed her into a hug she fought to get out of.

"Ew ew ew, feelings!"

It only made him laugh and hold tighter.

---

The ride back to the apartment was more chill. Quiet except for the old music that Jessica sang along to, this time under her breath. When they reached the building, there was a relaxed peace as they went up in the elevator together.

"I owe you a Christmas present," Erik said at the door glancing over as Jessica opened the door to her apartment.

"You do, I gave you a good one."

He blew a small laugh through his nostrils. "Yes. Yes, you did. Have a good night, okay?"

"Sleep in heavenly peace," she smiled leaning her head on her door. He nodded and entered his apartment, picking up in the living room before getting ready for bed. There was another series of knocks on the door.

"What's up," he asked opening it to a squinting Jessica. She looked a little constipated or confused. "You good? What you need?"

"Uh. I know I promised, but do I still have to stay away from you until Memorial Day? I kinda had a lotta fun tonight. It looked like you did too."

Erik shook his head, too tired to laugh at the nonsense. One thing for sure, he'd never be bored.

"You can talk to me," he nodded dramatically before yawning. "We family ain't we?"

"Good because for New Year's we gotta go turn up at my granny's cat hotel! Eee!!" She clapped squealing in excitement. "You'll love her, she's just like me but she's just a little weird," she whispered.

Erik's brows knit together as he broke down that statement. That was something to think about when the time came, he was too tired.

"Good night, Jessica," he sang closing the door gently. She stopped it.

"One more thing!"

"Girl do you ever get tired!"

"Merry Christmas, brother from another mother," she grinned. He shook his head with a sigh.

"..See you on New Year's."

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @goddessofthundathighs @thadelightfulone @mszrenee @woahitslucyylu @badgalbrix1 @supersizemeplz @idont-know-shit @vikkidc @ladymac82 @xsweetdellzx @msreshel

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik stevens au #christmas fic

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connordavidscamera · 3 years

Text

Christmas Confessions | Connor Brashier

A/n: this is absolute trash and I’m sorry, but sometimes you gotta put out the bad stuff to get to the good stuff. This is also for @wondershawns winter writing challenge, so I hope you enjoy it! My prompts were “old Christmas family photos” and “we’d make a cute couple.”

Summary: Christmas time brings up some feelings for these long time friends

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

***

Christmas vacation has always been a big thing in our family. It just became even bigger once the Brashier family started joining us. Which, while I like to say our moms are the reason for that – they are, for the most part – it’s really because Connor and I have been attached at the hip since we were in preschool. But it also helps that our moms became best friends too when Connor and I had our first play date. Then if we flashforward a couple more years, Sam and his family joined us too.

Yeah, Christmas vacation is quite an adventure, but it’s truly the greatest time to be surrounded by the people I love for two whole weeks. No responsibilities, just a fuck ton of cookies, egg nog, and Hallmark Christmas movies. The boys claim to hate the movies, but by the middle of the movie – every single time, without fail – they’re arguing over whether or not the main character should be with the big shot lawyer guy that she was supposedly getting engaged to at the start of the movie, or her old high school crush. (Sam votes lawyer, Connor and I say high school crush. But it’s funny how this is the argument every time and even though we’ve seen hundreds of these movies in our lifetime, Sam still votes for the big shot.)

“Kids! Look what I found!” Mrs. Brashier comes into the living room where the three of us are sprawled out on the floor arguing. We all turn to look at her and I furrow my brows at the scrapbook she’s holding.

“A scrapbook?”

“Yes, it has all kinds of pictures of the three of you from all the trips we’ve taken here. You should look through it. Take a trip down memory lane.” She hands the book to Connor, who in turn hands it to me since I’m in the middle. “There’s the cutest photo of you three in there from two years ago, when you’re all under the mistletoe.” She says before heading back to the dining room to sit with mine and Sam’s moms.

“Pause the movie,” I tell Sam. “I wanna look through it.” I reposition myself, taking my pillow off Connor’s back, where I was previously resting my head.

The first few photos are just of me and Connor, and a few with Dylan too, but Dylan hated being in front of the camera as a kid, so he was rarely in any photos with us. “Awe, look at little y/n missing her tooth,” Connor laughs.

“Mhm, that was the Christmas where I wouldn’t stop singing ‘All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth.’”

“Oh, I remember. You were tone deaf,” he dead pans and I gasp, slapping his arm.

“Don’t be an ass! I was six!”

“I’m aware. You’re better now.”

“Well, only a little,” Sam says.

“You both suck! I’m a great singer.”

“Mhm sure,” they say at the same time.

“I did not ask to be attacked like this.”

“You don’t have to, it’s our job as your best friends to keep you humble,” Sam nods, nudging my arm with his elbow.

I hum and turn the page, and Sam makes his first appearance. He’s putting way too many sprinkles on his cookie that looks like it was supposed to be Santa. The next photo is of all of us with our decorated cookies. Mine looks almost bare because I didn’t have enough frosting on it – I was never a frosting person, it’s too sweet. Connor’s somehow has the perfect ratio of frosting to sprinkles. Of course, it’s kinda hard to mess up a candy cane.

The next couple photos are of us in the snow – snow angels, snowball fights, another one of just us smiling at the camera, arms all locked around each other. It takes a few more pages before we get to the photo Connor’s mom was talking about.

I’m squished between the guys, Sam on my left, Connor on my right and they’re both kissing my cheeks. My eyes are shut tight and the picture is a little blurry from where the camera tried to catch my hands pushing them away.

“Hey, if you take Sam out of the picture,” Connor starts, going to cover Sam with his hand. “We’d make a good couple.”

“Don’t be a dick!” Sam shoves his hand away so he can cover Connor’s face. “Obviously we’re the better couple. You’re just the third wheel.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Turn the movie back on. We have like three more to watch tonight.” I change the subject, but I look back at the photo and I can’t help but think that Connor’s right. We do look like a good couple.

---

After we’ve all eaten, the guys and I make our way back to the living room, all the siblings following, scattering on the floor to watch movies with us. The parents have resorted to their rooms, the moms most likely wrapping last minute gifts while our dads all start drifting off so they don’t get asked to do anything. It’s their own tradition.

Once it hits midnight, most everyone has gone to their rooms, except for Connor, Sam, Dylan, and me. But Sam and Dylan are asleep and snoring loudly beside Connor and me. He’s scrolling through his phone and I have my head on his shoulder, watching the movie that’s still on. It’s one of my favorite Christmas movies. Sam hates it, which is why I turned it on after he fell asleep.

“What is it about this movie that you love so much?” Connor asks quietly.

I shrug, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just a sucker for a good ol’ friends to lovers story. It’s the best of all the clichés, I think.”

He just nods. “Yeah. I guess friends to lovers is kinda nice.”

“What? Are you gonna tell me that you don’t like the idea of knowing someone your whole life and slowly realizing that they’re your soulmate?”

“No,” he shakes his head staring down at me with a fond smile. “I – I like the idea. But, I don’t know if it would happen for me.”

“Why not?”

“Well, what if she doesn’t feel the same?” he asks seriously.

“What if she does? What then?”

“It’s not possible.”

“Says who? Any girl would be crazy not to be in love with you.”

He clears his throat, “Any girl?”

“Yeah, any girl,” I say, but I don’t think he quite gets what I’m saying. Because he just nod and looks back at his phone.

“Hey,” he says a few minutes later. “It says it’s snowing. Let’s go.”

“But it’s late.”

“So? We always go out for a walk when the first snow hits. Go get dressed. I’ll get blankets.”

I don’t argue because he’s right. It’s our tradition. Since we started coming here, we always go on a walk together during the first snow. Sam came with us once, but that just resulted in a snowball fight and this was the only quiet time that Connor and I had. So we made it a thing to go when it first started snowing, and then we’d go back out with Sam and go as crazy as we want.

I shiver once we get out there, shrugging my jacket on. “Oh god.”

Connor just snickers and takes my hand. “Come on, let’s go. It’s really coming down out here.”

I follow him and we soon fall into step with each other, our feet crunching the snow beneath us at the same speed, our breathing synchronized.

“Hey, y/n?” he says on our way back to the house.

“Yeah?” I breathe out.

“What you said inside, about liking the whole friends to lovers cliché.”

“Mhm, what about it?”

“Did you mean that you would like it if it were to happen to you?”

“Oh,” I nod and think about it. “Yeah. Yeah, I would. Why?”

Connor shrugs, “I don’t know. I was just – just wondering.”

“Do you want a friends to lovers cliché?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he looks down at his feet while he walks. “I mean, I could see it happening maybe… with you?”

“With,” I clear my throat, “with me?”

He sighs and climbs the steps, walking over to the porch swing where we left the blankets. He sits down, “I mean, I’m just thinking like… if I were to have a crush on you or something. Would – would it be possible that those feelings would be reciprocated?”

“Um,” I sit down next to him and look down at his hands that are clasped together in his lap. “I think that if you had a crush on me, it is very, very possible that those feelings are reciprocated.”

He looks up at me with wide eyes, “Wait, you’re – are you serious?”

“What you said earlier, about us looking like a good couple. Did you mean that?”

He licks his lips and I glance down in time to see his pinkie twitching. I reach forward and place my hand over his. He winces. “Fuck, your hands are cold.” And he covers mine with his, blowing on them to keep the heat. I stare at his rosy cheeks, and eyes that seem even brighter in contrast with the bright white snow. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I meant it.”

I nod once and exhale deeply. “So… what does this mean?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t even really know what just happened.”

“Well, I think we might have just admitted we have feelings for each other.”

“Yes,” he confirms. “We did that. So where do we go from here?”

“I have no idea,” I admit. “But hopefully inside, it’s freezing.”

Connor laughs, “Yeah, it is. Let’s go.” He stands, still holding my hand and he pulls me to my feet, leading me inside. We’re quiet walking back in, careful not to wake Dylan and Sam who are still sleeping, the movie still playing on the TV, but long forgotten. Connor leads me to the kitchen, and he pulls two mugs from the cupboard and gets the kettle from near the coffee maker, turning on the stove before filling the kettle with water.

“So,” I say, hoisting myself up on the counter. “Are we gonna talk about this next move thing?”

“Yes,” he answers, jumping to sit next to me, our legs touching. “I think we need to go on a date.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks, and it’s clear he wasn’t expecting that to be my response.

“Well, actually, I would like to be asked on a date.”

He blushes and looks down. “Sorry.” But then he looks back up and he has a very bright smile on his face and I’m reminded why I fell for him in the first place. His smile could light up the whole world, and no I do not take constructive criticism. “Would you, y/n, like to accompany me on an outing, one that is often referred to as a date?”

I can’t help but laugh, “Sure, yes. I would very much like to accompany you on an outing often referred to as a date.”

“Yeah? That’s – that’s great! I’ll start planning tonight.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Okay. That sounds good.” I nod and swing my feet as we both fall silent, waiting for the water to boil.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

I choke on air. “What?”

“Sorry,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t – I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I just – well, yeah. I want to kiss you. Because I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss you since I was fourteen and now that we’re going on a date I feel – excuse me for assuming – like I’m that much closer and it’s absolutely killing me to not know what it’s like to –”

“Connor, kiss me,” I interrupt his rambling.

He only hesitates a second before his hands are on either side of my jaw and his lips are covering mine in a heated kiss. I hum against him and reach for his hair, tugging a little, which in turn causes him to moan against my lips. And holy hell, what wouldn’t I give to hear that again over and over for the rest of my life. His tongue teases my bottom lip and I part my lips, allowing him to roam. This kiss is heaven. It’s everything I could have ever wanted with this boy in particular. It’s the type of kiss that leaves your toes curling and your mind spinning. It’s perfect until –

Eeeeeekkk!!! The kettle squeals, startling us both, and causing Connor to bite my lip as he pulls away.

“Ow,” I hold onto my lips while Connor jumps from the counter to take the kettle off the stove. He pours the water into our mugs and then grabs the tea bags from the cupboard above him, placing one in each of our cups before turning and handing me mine. “Thanks,” I say, still holding my lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“You bit my lip when you pulled away.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. Is it bleeding?” I ask, taking my hand away.

He leans closer to inspect it and shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay. Why don’t you kiss it and make it better?”

Connor raises an eyebrow, “You want me to?”

“Please?”

He sets his mug down beside me and I do the same. And then he’s taking my face again and kissing my lips softly. He pecks my lips six times before I groan.

“Kiss me like you mean it, Brashier.”

He chuckles and pulls me closer, doing as he’s told.

***

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xxx-cat-xxx · 4 years

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Shot to Hell

Writing finally worked again! I thought of using this for Whumptober but then I was like, screw it, who’s gonna wait a month? So here have the Spider-Man content you’ve been asking me for, plus Tony and Bruce father-henning Peter.

Major thanks to @whumphoarder for beta-reading.

Peter fades back into consciousness right in the middle of a heated debate between Tony and Nat over the best method of peeling hard boiled eggs.

“Wha’ happ’nd?” he croaks, prompting Tony to stop mid-sentence (“No, you don’t crack them on a flat surface, you gotta hit em with a–”) and both of them to turn their heads in his direction.

“Oh, look who decided to wander back to the land of the living,” Tony teases, but even in his still-dazed state, Peter can see relief blooming on his mentor’s face.

“I passed out, didn’t I?” he asks.

“Bingo. 10 points.” Tony raises a mocking eyebrow before asking in a more sober tone, “How are you feeling?”

“...Shot,” Peter deadpans, eliciting an eye roll from Tony and a grin from Nat.

“Do you remember what happened?” she chips in.

“Uhm… kind of?” Peter tries to think through the fog in his pounding head. He recalls the impact of the bullet with his body, and then someone―Dr. Banner?―plucking said bullet out again in an increasingly painful procedure that must have led to him blacking out. It’s the in-between that he’s kind of fuzzy about. For example, how he moved from the intersection of 77th and 164th to a room with the most hideous, peeling lilac-coloured wallpaper he’s ever seen and three venus fly trap plants on the windowsill.

“Where am I?”

“Bruce’s humble abode,” Tony explains, gesturing around to the sparsely adorned room. “Very humble, actually. Not even sure he has indoor plumbing.”

Nat rolls her eyes and hits his arm with a playful backhand.

Peter frowns. “Why are we at Dr. Banner’s?”

Tony shrugs. “It was closest, and we had to get that bullet out of you before your freaky spider DNA started knitting itself back together.”

“Bruce has all kinds of medical equipment here,” Nat explains. “He sometimes treats undocumented citizens.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “How do you know that? I didn’t even know that.”

Nat shrugs mysteriously, then pushes herself away from the edge of the desk she was sitting on top of. “I’m gonna tell him that your disaster kid woke up.”

“I’m not–” Peter starts at the same moment Tony asserts, “He’s not–”

“Yeah, yeah, save your breath.” Nat’s smile is amused and a little bit fond.

Once she’s left the room, Peter pulls the blanket off his bare chest to try and get a look at the bandaged wound in his abdomen, but even lifting his head a little sends jolts of pain through his body and a groan escapes before he can stop it.

“Easy, easy,” Tony says, pushing him back down. “No moving just yet for anyone with holes in them.”

“Is it really bad?” Peter asks, trying hard to mask the worry in his voice. He’s been injured in countless other ways since getting his powers, but it’s his first time getting shot. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders whether there will be any lasting damage.

Tony’s expression goes soft as he seems to read his thoughts. “Bruce says you’re already healing. The bullet missed all the vital organs. With your healing factor, you should be back on the streets in a couple days.”

At Peter’s relieved sigh, Tony then launches into an explanation of the very painful things Clint and Steve did to the Hydra agent who fired the gun after the other left to get Peter to safety. Peter nods along, feeling his eyes growing heavy. He doesn’t even realise that they’ve slipped shut until he feels Tony lightly rest a hand on his shoulder, but opening them again seems like way too much work. The wound is pulsing in time with his heartbeat, and he’s suddenly exhausted.

“...Peter? I thought you said he was awake.”

“Yeah, he was until five minutes ago. Come on, kid, the doctor’s in.”

“Ngph,” Peter grunts, blinking his eyes open again to see Bruce swim into focus, the doctor’s brows knitting in concern. “‘M awake.”

“That’s good.” Bruce gives a small, encouraging smile. “I just want to check your vitals and see if there’s anything we can do for pain management. I know that normal painkillers don’t work on you, but there are some alternatives we could try.”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s not hurting that much,” Peter lies.

“Uh-huh,” Bruce says, obviously not buying it. He fixes a blood pressure cuff to Peter’s upper arm and inflates it.

"Yeah, that's still pretty low, but moving in the right direction. You probably shouldn't try to get up just yet."

"Probably?” Tony interrupts. "If he tries to leave this bed any time before tomorrow morning, I'll confiscate the suit for a month."

"Alright, Tony. Calm down." That's Nat, seated in a chair at the foot of the bed.

Tony flashes Peter a warning look before sticking his tongue out at Nat.

"I'm gonna take your pulse.” Bruce puts two fingers onto Peter's wrist and looks at his watch for a while. "120―Your heart's racing. Not much pain, you said?"

"I've had worse," Peter mumbles. That's not a lie, at least. The two-day migraine he had after getting bitten still ranks on top of that list, closely followed by the time he ruptured his Achilles tendon during a triple backflip in the Spider-Man suit from the roof of the gym.

(The video Ned took of this particular incident still circulates on TikTok).

Tony huffs out a breath and mutters something that sounds a lot like god, this kid.

"Alright." Bruce lifts the blanket to check the bandages and seems to be content with what he's seeing. "Just try to rest like this, but if you can't sleep, we can think of trying some cannabis drops."

“Thanks, Dr. Banner,” Peter says.

"Oh, and you should eat and drink something if you feel up to it. You lost quite a bit of blood back there."

"Uhm." He definitely doesn’t feel up to that―he’s been lightheaded and slightly queasy since the time he woke up, and the mere thought of food turns Peter's stomach. "Maybe drink something?"

“We can start with that.” Bruce removes the blood pressure cuff and starts to put it back into its bag. “I’ll bring you some juice.”

“I’ll get it,” Nat offers and leaves the room. She returns a minute later with a small bottle of orange juice and a pink straw that she passes to Bruce.

“Oh, organic and fairtrade,” Tony comments, eyeing at the label. “You’re in for a treat today, kid.”

Peter chuckles, but cuts himself off abruptly when he makes to sit up and the pain in his abdomen flares to the point that his vision greys out. “Ow,” he mumbles.

Tony shoots out a hand when Peter lists towards him and carefully lowers him back down onto the mattress. “What did we say about not getting up yet?” the engineer pronounces through gritted teeth. “There’s a straw in that.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Peter awkwardly takes a few sips from the bottle while lying back, and then stops to draw in a breath.

His unsuccessful attempt at sitting left him even more dizzy than before. The juice settles uneasily in his stomach and he puts the bottle down after finishing half of it before turning onto his uninjured side with Tony’s help. Nat and Tony restart their quibble about egg-boiling behind Peter while Bruce, sitting right next to him, starts to scroll through something on his phone.

Peter closes his eyes and attempts to fall asleep, but the longer he tries, the more the pain radiating from the bullet wound seems to increase. On top of that, there’s a growing sick feeling in his gut that’s impossible to ignore. He slowly draws his legs up to his stomach, but it doesn’t help, so he stretches them back out and surreptitiously rests a hand on his belly. Adjusting his head on the pillow, he tries to carefully breathe through his nose.

“You doing okay?” Bruce asks quietly, looking up from his phone after another few attempts by Peter at finding a comfortable position. Peter nods, then lifts his hand to stifle a sick burp that carries the taste of orange juice. Cold sweat has broken out all over his body and he can feel himself starting to tremble minutely.

Bruce regards him with a frown, then addresses Tony and Nat, who are still caught up in their banter. “Why don’t you two take this outside?”

Tony starts to protest, but Bruce gives him a pointed look that the other man seems to understand, because he closes his mouth again and gets up from the far side of the bed. "See you later, buddy," he says, giving Peter’s shoulder a squeeze.

Once the two of them have left the room, Bruce turns back to Peter. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“I, uhm, I kind of feel like throwing up,” Peter admits in a whisper.

“It’s alright, that happens,” Bruce assures him calmly. “I’ll get you a bowl, okay?”

“I don’t want anyone to see–”

“I get it,” Bruce reassures. “Don’t worry.”

He disappears out of the door and Peter keeps swallowing thickly against the nausea rising up in his throat. The only thing worse than throwing up in front of the Avengers would probably be throwing up onto an Avenger’s bed. Luckily, Bruce reappears quickly with a basin in his hands that he sets down within Peter’s reach. “Try to breathe through it,” he advises. “But if you need to get sick, it’s okay.”

Peter nods miserably. He tries to follow the scientist’s advice of breathing calmly, but it doesn’t do much to quell the nausea. A few minutes later, he has to reach for the basin, saliva already pooling in his mouth.

"Here." Bruce helps him prop himself on his elbow. Peter shakily spits a few strings of saliva into the basin until a gag rises in his throat and he brings up a gush of orange juice. He barely manages to draw a breath before a second wave forces its way up. Peter can’t stop a whimper from escaping his lips between retches when his wound protests the sudden movement.

“Hey.” Bruce pats his shoulder awkwardly. “You’ll be alright. Just get it all up.”

Peter is panting and shaking all over when he finishes. Bruce passes him some water to rinse his mouth.

“That sucked,” Peter croaks after swirling and spitting it back out. He more crashes than lies back down on the pillow, pain radiating in waves through the lower half of his body, making his head spin.

Bruce gives him a slightly sad, sympathetic look. “I’m sorry it’s hurting.” He gestures at the basin. “Are you okay if I take this away?”

Peter nods, closing his eyes. A part of him is absolutely mortified at the idea of one of the world’s best scientists cleaning out his puke bowl, but the pain has taken most of the embarrassment away, and if there is anyone of the team he feels least uncomfortable seeing him like this, it’s probably Bruce with his slight shyness and calm down-to-earth attitude.

The man returns a few minutes later, bringing along a cold cloth for Peter to wipe his face, a small box of mints, and Tony.

“Day just keeps getting better, huh?” Tony remarks.

“Ugh.” Peter buries his head in his pillow. “This is such a disaster. And I was looking forward to the mission. And the team.”

“Hey.” Tony’s tone softens. He strokes some of Peter’s sweaty hair away from his forehead and then brushes his eyes shut. “We’re still here. Go to sleep now, kid. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

So Peter does.

_________

All my fics

Taglist: @toomuchtoread33 @yepokokfine

#peter whump #hurt peter parker #irondad fic #tony stark #bruce banner #fluff #this one is soft #hurt/comfort #vomiting #it's 2012 and everyone's friends and they have collectively adopted Spider-Man #cat writes irondad again

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chironshorseass · 3 years

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29 and 30 fluff for perachel or percabeth? Hehe I like both ships don’t @ me. Love your writing btw!

I kinda managed to do both...kinda lol. This was fun to do :) Sorry in advance for the bad puns.

writing prompts

“Detention? Again?”

“Look, I can explain.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and sat back on her bed, too tired to stand up and listen to what Percy had to say, most likely.

“Sure you can.”

They’d been Iris Messaging for a few minutes now. Percy, exhausted from a day of school and homework, had taken the first chance off to fish out a drachma from his drawer and call one of the people he’d missed most since the summer.

It had slipped his mind that New York and San Francisco had different time zones. But luckily, Annabeth was still awake. He’d found her in her bedroom, curls pulled into a messy bun and eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as she read some textbook, still studying for the exam she’d talked about a week ago.

Despite her initial complaints about Percy interrupting her, he knew that she didn’t mind.

“So?” she asked, bringing him back to the present.

She pulled her legs under her and stared at him expectantly.

He blinked. “Huh?”

She raised an eyebrow, and Percy thought—in the back of his mind—that she looked unfairly pretty. At night, with the fairy lights illuminating her hair and her face, like an angel.

“Why’d you get detention?”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes, Seaweed Brain. That.”

“Uhm…” Percy scratched the back of his neck. “It’s kind of a funny story, I um…”

“Spit it out.”

Now that he thought about it, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Maybe he should’ve thought this through, to avoid any arguments. Or confrontations. Or another cold shoulder. They weren’t as awkward now that the school year had started, but the mention of her always put Annabeth on edge, anyway.

“You see, I was with, uh...Rachel.”

He paused, noticing the way she gripped her textbook tighter, slightly wrinkling the pages.

Why did I think this was a good idea? Stupid.

“I was with Rachel, and she sort of, um...” he laughed nervously, already cringing. “Made a bet?”

Technically, he’d made the bet. But that wasn’t important for Annabeth to know.

Chemistry, in Percy’s opinion, was the most boring class Goode had to offer. Useless. Irrelevant.

Confusing, most of all.

At least he was partners with Rachel. It was one of the few classes they had together. They sat at the very back, so they were rarely noticed anyway, mostly spending the forty five minutes of lectures about chemical equations doing little drawing games on their notebooks and playing hangman. Percy lost most of the time.

The teacher wasn’t that great, either. Most of the school knew her as Mrs. Jones. She was a short lady in her late sixties with thin, badly dyed hair who had a concerning addiction to gum—so to Percy and Rachel—she was known as Mrs. Gum-Gum. She turned to the board for some explanation that Percy had completely lost interest on since the first five minutes of class. Rachel let out a low moan, hands on her forehead.

“Kill me now,” she muttered.

“Sorry, I can’t. My sword doesn’t work on you.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, leaning backwards and tilting his chair. “I know.”

She hit him in the shin. “You’re going to fall one of these days, and the class will never let you forget it.”

“Eh,” Percy shrugged. “At least they’d get a laugh and you wouldn’t be so bored.”

Her green eyes twinkled with humor like she’d just remembered something. She snorted. “Okay. So this one time, a girl was doing the same thing as you, leaning back and all—and she like, fell. It was hilarious, because she just lay there, with her feet in the air.”

“Rachel Dare,” Gum-Gum called, narrowed eyes cast on them. She kind of sounded like a wounded hyena, in his humble opinion. “I sure hope you and Mr. Jackson are discussing the worksheet that I gave out.”

Rachel nodded and threw her a thumbs up, while Percy held a fist to his mouth to stop the smile forming on his face. Gum-Gum left her alone and went back to her lecture.

The class kept its monotone routine of worksheets and notes, so as a distraction, Rachel grabbed his arm and popped the lids off her sharpies, drawing little figurines. She was on his second tattoo when an idea came to him.

“Hey, Rach?” he whispered, making sure the teacher was facing the board.

“Hmm.”

“We should play truth or dare.”

She grabbed the green marker and spread the ink from side to side across his skin. “Mmm...No.”

“Come on,” he whined. “I’m bored.”

“Yeah, but we’ve done truth or dare so many times now. It’s gotten old. Besides, you’re such a pussy.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are. Remember that time I dared you to eat the gum from under the seat?”

Percy made a face. “That was so fucking gross. Nobody in their right mind would’ve done that. Maybe Mrs. Gum-Gum, but I am not on her level.”

“I figured, after you blatantly refused. And then there’s the time when I dared you to kiss Mary Andrews. On the cheek. And you couldn’t do it.”

“Oh my gods, I can’t just kiss girls. That’s leading them on.”

She exhaled, long and deep and stared at him as if he were a lost cause. “Okay. Whatever.”

She went back to drawing on his arm.

“If anyone’s the pussy right now,” he whispered. “It’s you.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. You just wish you were as marginally cool as me.”

“Um...Then why won’t you play truth or dare?”

“Like I said: bo-ring.” She leaned closer to his arm, creating tiny details with the thinner side of the sharpie. “And don’t tell me I don’t do the dares, ‘cause I do. My last name’s Dare, after all. It would be a complete dishonor.”

“How long have you waited to say that?”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know. Now hold still. You’d look good with tattoos, by the way.”

He sighed. Okay, fine. She had a point, he wasn’t that great at doing “cool” stuff, likely because he was traumatized by the getting-kicked-out-of-schools thing he had going for him. You know, maybe it was that.

As Percy watched her work with her sharpies, he realized: maybe there was a way to prove to her that he could do daring stuff. A once in a lifetime thing. And in the process, he could make her smile.

“Fine,” he said. “If you don’t wanna do something, then let’s make a bet.”

“Depends on what you want to bet on, but go on.”

“How much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?”

The read-head stopped creating the swirly lines of the little wave she’d been working on, making his skin tingle from the loss of the pointy marker. She lifted her freckled face, watching him with raised eyebrows.

“Nah, you don’t have the guts.”

“Psh. ‘Course I do. I’m Percy Jackson.”

“Ohhh! Percy Jackson. I’m Rachel Dare, nice to meet you.” She lifted her hand like she wanted Percy to shake it.

He slapped it away. “Shut up. I can totally do it.”

“Do you not care about getting in trouble with dear ol’ Gum-Gum?”

“I’ll make it seem like an accident.”

“Nothing you do seems like an accident to teachers.”

“Good point. Still be worth it, though.” He lowered his voice even further. “Besides, I gotta prove to you that I can do cool stuff.”

Rachel snorted. “Now I could literally ask you to do drugs and you’d do it, apparently. Peer pressure is a dangerous thing, my dude.”

He grinned. “And I want your money. You’re like, rich, Dare.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Jackson.”

“No problem.”

Gum-Gum shot them an admonishing look, and they pretended to do their work.

“So,” she said after a few seconds passed. “How much money?”

“I knew you could work with me.”

“Ugh, I’m getting second thoughts from your dramatism.”

“You love it.”

They held gazes, green on green. Rachel narrowed hers and sighed.

“Again, how much money?”

Percy shrugged. “You decide.”

“Fine.” She flipped some of her fiery curls over her shoulder. “I’m betting on a hundred bucks.”

He whistled under his breath. “Damn. You want me to do it that badly?”

“I do want to see everyone’s reaction to Percy Jackson losing his shit.” He shoved her, but she continued. “Especially Gum-Gum’s. But I know we’re getting in trouble, so we might as well go all out. What? It’s true! But at least you’d get your money.”

Percy shook his head. He’d probably regret this later.

Then he thought, what would Annabeth think?

But he couldn't dwell too much on that. At least it would be funny.

“We need to clear the desk, though.”

“Duh.”

So they worked, as quietly and discreetly as they could. When they’d finished, Percy turned to Rachel and nodded. She put a hand against her mouth to muffle her laughter.

On the third count, he flipped the desk. The table crashed with a resonating bang.

Rachel leaned backwards and let out a sound of surprise, probably because she’d half speculated that he wouldn’t pull through with it in the first place.

Immediately, everyone craned their heads to the back of the room. Some jumped at the sound. Others gasped or snickered, especially at the sight of Mrs. Gum-Gum. She yelped and dropped her marker, slapping a hand to her chest and retreating a few steps as if she were about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Percy Jackson!”

He winced a bit, but all in all, he thought he was keeping a straight face. But then he caught onto Rachel’s expression, arms crossed. He doubted they’d get off freely, just as she’d said.

As they shouldered their backpacks, heading for room 1345—detention—Rachel slipped her hand in the pocket of her paint-splattered uniform skirt.

“I didn’t know I had the money with me, but it seems as though he fates are in your favor, Jackson,” she said, taking the dollar bills from her pocket and handing them to him. They both knew all too well that she didn’t care for it. Daddy issues, he recalled.

Percy raised his eyebrow. “Thanks, Rach. Now, I can finally buy a new skateboard.”

“Nice to know that this was worth it.”

“Especially since now you have to do something...daring.”

She tapped her index finger to her temple mockingly. “Oh, I see. That’s why you wanted to do that bet. So then we could be on even ground.”

“Do you agree, Dare?”

“My gods, you’re so corny. But sure. Though let's not get ourselves a detention pass the next time, hmm? I feel bad for you. How many have you gotten this semester?” She clicked her tongue. “What will your mom say?”

1343, 1344 ... 1345. This was the place. Through the window, he could see many of the students already settling in, giving the teacher the strip of paper that he and Rachel had in their pockets.

He exhaled. “I don’t want to think about Mom just yet. But honestly, I don’t mind detention. And I don’t think she would, either. Better than getting kicked out.”

“Mmhmm. And I don’t really mind spending some more quality time with you. Even if we get in trouble, I kinda think you’re nice to be around, Jackson.” She smiled and held her arm out for him to pass. For some reason, that comment made his chest feel warm and fuzzy. “Gentlemen first.”

“Isn’t it ladies first?”

“Chivalry is dead. Now go on.” She nodded towards the door. “I like being fashionably late.”

“And you say I’m the dramatic one,” he grumbled.

#anon #writing prompts #perachel #percabeth #pjo fic #also this dragged out and idk I got lazy #look mom i can write

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

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Love Is Not A Victory March

~Notes: :Hiya loves! So yes this is a repost becs I wanted to fix it up and I think it’s much more of an actual story now ty God<3 <3 This is based off the prompt that the ever lovely @goodboylupin gave me for her Candy Hearts challenge, that was literally just, “love letters,” and my dumb brain said I should do this RIP. I literally have photographic proof that I sent RJ that this was meant t be 6k at max lmfaoooo. Also huge thank you to @omgcmere for always being dat bitch to kick me in the ass, and to @mischief-marauders tedddylupin for their kind words, and of course to Angel Anon! I hope y’all don’t hate this!!!

Send Me A Prompt | Reblogging is like giving a hug.-

“Sometimes when you open up to people, you let the bad in with the good.”

-Zack Siler, She’s All That

~*~

The Lion’s just won their third game in a row for the season, which of course dictates that the team celebrates with an after party at the Prewett’s house while their parents are off visiting their older sister and her new born up north in Albany. There’s a Suicideboys song pulsing through the speakers, and a never ending tub of jungle juice besides a truly imposing stack of White Claws towards the back. All the necessary ingredients for a good and proper blow out in Sirius’s humble opinion, even if he has to see Peter Pettigrew’s pasty white ass when he runs through the house screaming that he’s lost his pants before jumping into the backyard’s pool in the midst of people cackling and taking photos for their Snapchat and Instagram stories. Not an irregular occurrence, all things considered, especially when taking into account how fucking tweaky Pettigrew can get when he smokes too much.

But whatever, it’s fine.

Sirius is taking a huff out of the sloppily wrapped joint that Evan Rosier had just handed over— which proofs that if you want anything decently done you have to do it yourself. But it’s whatever, he’s laughing along to a story James is crowing about, the time when they had snuck into a Florida club during spring break of last year— emphatic hand motions and all— and Eleanor Hawthorne is making eyes at him from across the way— a sure lay for tonight— and he’s the one who made the final goal that won them the game against those serpents in the first place. So yeah it’s a good night all put together. It would be a great night if Fabian would stop whining about Emmeline Vance dumping him for the fourth time in as many months of dating after she had caught him half way to fucking a blonde from the local Catholic girl’s school. But he supposes you can’t get everything you want.

“Emmy is the love of my life,” Fabian moans in a truly pitiful way right on queue, interrupting James cackling over how Sirius had flirted so hard with the bartender that they ended up drinking free for half the night. Gideon sums up all their feelings when he just rolls his eyes at his twin before sauntering off to probably go and get busy with Benjy Fenwick upstairs, the selfish bastard.

“Sure she was,” Kingsley says wryly before going back to the game of beer pong that he’s destroying the competition at, and Frank only pats Fabian’s head consolingly.

“I loved her I tell you!” Fabian shouts defiantly before chugging down his fifth claw of the hour, already fucking tipsy— the light weight.

“Get some dignity man, and get over it,” Sirius tells him— this side of derisive.

Fabian glares at him menacingly. “Just because you don’t have a heart Black, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t feel things!”

“I have a heart, I’m just not a bitch bout it,” Sirius sniffs loftily, getting up to stretch and gulps down the rest of his rum and coke, winking at a junior who’s blatantly staring after him and making her flush.

“Have you ever even had a long term relationship in your life? Besides just folks you keep on the back burner for casual hook ups?” Frank asks, a bit slurred before stuffing another handful of Doritos into his mouth. He thinks that just because he and Alice Flores have been mindnumpingly in love since Freshman year Homecoming that the rest of the world is just lost until they find their “other half” like they have, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

“Sure I have Frances, your mom.” No one laughs, and he doesn’t expect them to— that was a pathetic attempt at a joke, and Sirius blames the subpar weed. “’S whatever, I can keep up a relationship if I wanted to.”

“I bet you can’t find someone you haven’t already fucked and dumped to take’m to the Snowflake Formal,” Kingsley goads, effortlessly bouncing another ball into a solo red cup before taking a seat on the arm rest besides frank and chugging from an untouched Miller.

James only shakes his head, muttering a small, “Here we go,” beneath his breath.

“Oh hop off, all I gotta do is not cheat on’m with anything that breathes, learned that one from you Fabs.”

Fabian glares darkly at him, “That was a misunderstanding.”

“Your tongue was down the chick’s mouth.”

“We were on a break!”

“And Joey doesn’t share food!” Frank tacks on with a snort.

Fabian flips him the bird before swiveling his gaze back up at Sirius, “Just admit that you’re an irreverent asshole and can’t hold up a relationship if your life counted on it.”

“Pff,” Sirius tilts his head, starting to get real peeved off. “Let’s make it a bet then. I’ll get a date to take for the formal, just to rub it in your fucking face Prewett.”

“Guys, this is a bad idea.” James interjects.

“I think it’s an amazing one,” Kingsley counters, pixelated gleam in his dark eyes.

“I think you’re all off your rockers,” Frank intones with far too much gravity.

Sirius sighs. “No more comments from the peanut gallery for the love of Christ.”

“Not only a date, a full blown relationship for the next three months! Gotta make the poor fucker believe it too.” Fabian clarifies, to which Sirius only shrugs, indifferent to the caveat. “Then you’re on Black! And if you lose, you gotta streak the entire crowd during the championship game!”

Sirius agrees easily, knowing full and well that he won’t lose to the bastard. “And if I win, you gotta hand over that motorcycle you and your dad have been fixing up over the summer.”

“deal.”

“Deal.”

They shake on it with matching smirks of condescension.

“This is going to be so, so bad.”

Acting as if James hadn’t even spoken, Fabian gets up to meet Sirius eye to eye. “Next person to walk through the door is your conquest.”

“Fine with me.”

“I don’t like this at all.”

Everyone continues to ignore James, to busy keeping up a death stare towards the entrance of the living room— Sirius’s stomach dropping six feet under and his heart clenched when not even a minute passes and it’s no other than Remus Lupin who ambles through the threshold, looking so adorably flustered until spotting Dorcas Meadowes— president of both the STEM club and the black student union— who quickly envelopes him into a hug before they stroll towards the garden by the smokers.

ANd shit.

Keep Reading

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #HP FIC #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #FIC: SHE'S ALL THAT #SPILT INK

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kookies2000 · 3 years

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Third after story! The longest one. At least six chapters or ten. It's also my favorite because I got to insert Duck Tale authors into this one. Katie, Dalek and Jordan being a few. As a thank you for always supporting me. Hope any author who is in this story feels like I did you justice!

"Let the Games Begin!"

The family reunion is finally here after being delayed multiple times. Many are entering to compete in The Battle of the Gods. The Mcducks are excited to represent the Goddess of Love, until the games start getting too intense. Competitors are letting personal grudges take over to the point where people might actually get hurt or worse.

###

"Abigor and I were really close when we were kids, but I still have bonds with other cousins, you know." Lizzette said plainly as they walked across the beach.

"Really? You always talked about Abigor. What other cousins are you close to?" Webby asked in her usual cheery tone.

"Lizzette?" Everyone heard an even more cheerier tone from a distance. In the crowd they could see an orange colorful bird jumping up and down. With each jump getting him closer to them.

"Lizzette, it's really her!" The bird cheered at the top of his lungs. He jumped over the entire crowd like a cartoon character on a trampoline. Each jump got higher until he was right above them.

"Lizzette!" The brid zoomed right past them smashing himself onto a giant rock in the sand.

"Oh!.... Is he ok?" Huey cringed at the sight. As if nothing happened, the orange and yellow bird peeled away from the rock as if he was a sticker. The strange physics freaked out some of the teens except for Lizzette.

"Cartoon logic, you always did want that power." Lizzette laughed before being tackled into a hug.

###

"Are we seriously going to die here?" Louie shouted in terror. He felt his hand slip away from Webbys and could feel himself getting sucked deeper into the crowd. People were getting tossed out of line making them out of the race. It was crazy, people kept shoving everyone out of bounce, many flew over him and some even slipped past him making him feel extremely uncomfortable.

"Excuse me Mr!" He felt a young white duck squeeze past him. He nearly tripped from how small this girl was. She slipped past everyone as if she was made of liquid.

"Kate!" A brown dog that was flying over the crowd looked down at her, "You know you can travel underground?"

"Oh! Thanks Gabby." Katie waved to the dog that was clearly in her team. In a blink of an eye, the Katie girl transformed her body into water and she sank into the dirt below. Louie couldn't help but look in amazement. So many descendants of greek gods and their friends were gifted with powers he's never even heard of.

###

"Who's cleaning this up?" Huey felt slightly intimidated by the team's loud enthusiasm.

"Sorry." Gabby groaned as she grabbed a towel from the counter, "Some of our team members can get a little reckless."

With that, Gabby snatched the bottle out of Rebeys hands and replaced it with the towel.

"Hey! Let's have a little fun tonight. We all made it to the next round against hundreds! Starting Monday we're going to be competing in the Battle of the Gods!" Rebey let out a rough cheer as she jumped down to clean the spill.

"I like to keep the dorms clean this time." Gabby glared down at the girl.

"So, team Demeter huh?" Louie confidently walked up to the lady and leaned on the counter, "I hear you guys are the big shot here?"

"We won the Battle of the Gods four years in a row." A black duck appeared right behind him. Louie let out a loud squeak of fear before coughing behind his arm.

"Four years?" Louie cleared his throat of any cracks. He didn't even notice there was a brown and black dog next to the duck. Her curly hair held into a loose bun. The black duck gave a smirk and nod. He wore mostly black clothing with two long swords behind his back forming an X.

"The names Ninja." The guy held out his hand for a shake. Louie took the hand shake and looked at the guy questionably.

"Ninja? Like the Japanese ninja guys?" He asked.

"Yep, it's a nickname." Ninja let out a low giggle. Louie felt a little intimidated by the guy's presents. Just from the way he quietly showed up out of nowhere.

"So, you want to tell me your real name." Louie asked hopefully.

"Nope." Ninja winked playfully before walking away. The brown and black dog, who looked like she was about to explode from excitement, grabbed Louie's hand and shook it so hard he swore his wrist was about to be torn off.

"Salutations my friend! The names Mimi and I just wanted to welcome you and your team into the dorm rooms!" She chimed without letting go of his hand. Louie had to pull his hand away before he could lose it.

"Hi?" He wasn't sure how to respond to this hyper girl.

"Mimi, help me unpack!" Ninja called out.

"Ok!" The excited girl ran off.

"Don't mind them." A dark brown duck walked up to Louie. He shyly put out his hand for a hand shake as well to which Louie took. This guy had a lighter and kinder feel to him. Brown eyes behind some thick glasses and black hair over his forehead, "Christopher, but you can call me Chris."

"Louie." The rich duck felt more comfortable with this guy.

"Don't feel intimidated by us please." A small green hummingbird appeared behind him. This one also had a cute and kind feel to her. Gold round glasses over her warm brown eyes, "Some of our teammates are just over confident about our four year winning streak."

"You guys must be pretty amazing to win four times in a row?" Lena walked into the conversation.

"I wouldn't say amazing." Chris blushed from the compliment.

"No, we're out standing!" The little hummingbird cheerfully clapped her hands in excitement, "Not anyone can say they have a winning streak! If things go well for us this year, it'll be our fifth win. The most any single team has ever won in a row!"

"Easy Jo, we gotta remain humble remember," a much bigger white duck with black spots, placed his hands over her shoulders. The little hummingbird calmed down a bit before backing into the duck's embrace behind her. The black and white duck reached out for a handshake from the two ducks, "The names Jordan, captain of our team. This little lady is the co-captain, Jocabed, Jo for short."

"Hi!" Jo gave an excited wave.

"Don't forget about Katie." The white female duck hopped to their side. She grabbed Lenas hand without her even putting her hand out and violently shook it, "Team Aphroducky huh? Can't wait to compete against you guys. You know, Team Aphroducky hasn't won the Battle of the Gods in over 100 years?"

"What? Why?" Louie was taken back by the news. Lizzette was super talented and won many competitions outside of The Battle of the Gods. Surely the descendents of Aphroducky were powerful.

"I think it might have to do something with the fact that Aphroduckys powers aren't as powerful. Don't get me wrong, she's gorgeous and stunning but……. her powers aren't very useful for competitions so the team captain is usually the first to lose making the team lose."

"Making the team lose? As if the team doesn't have a leader hence they fall, right?" Louie cleared up causing a nod from Katie.

"Well that's going to change today!" Dewey slammed his arm against the table next to them. The microwave still firmly placed over his head, "Lizzette is a great team leader and super skilled with an even superer team behind her."

"You have….. a little……" Katie pointed at her head and looked at the microwaved headed duck in confusion.

"Again?" Webby whined from behind before pulling Dewey back.

"I wouldn't expect much from Lizzette. The girl's talented but this is her first Battle of the Gods so your team isn't expected to get far." A pale white duck with black highlights in her hair walked by them.

"Look who's talking," Rebey laughed as she tossed the towel into the sink, "Jordan was a first timer too and he won without a problem……. thanks to us of course. The most amazing team!"

"Yeah but I was trained by my brothers, who competed by the way, since I was a kid. So I knew what to do and expect as team leader. Lizzette is brand new, if I can give any advice to her it is to remain open to suggestions, communication, and stay flexible." Jordan explained.

"Talk, communicate, flex flex flex, nothing hard, Lizzette can handle it," Rebey was clearly drinking way too much of her grape juice. She leaned against the counter where Violet was sitting and looked at her. Rebeys eye's half open and drooping , "You're a cute one. Seeing you at tonight's party?"

"What?" Violet scooted away from the girl.

"Party, celebration party actually," The white duck with black highlights pulled Rebey aside and had her lean on her, "We have one after every Elimination Race to celebrate the teams that made it."

"Party!" Dewey's voice echoed in happiness from inside the microwave.

"Stop moving." Katie held the blue triplet against the table as Webby pulled onto the microwave.

###

"So every team has a captain and co-captain huh?" Violet was intrigued by the game's concept.

"Usually," Lizzette focused more on her streches than what Violet was trying to strategize. Violet looked down at the duck and noticed she was extremely nervous.

"Who's the co captain in this team?" She asked. Lizzette stood up straight, without even looking at the hummingbird. She let out a loud sigh before speaking.

"Co-captain is optional…… Abigor and I always wanted to be captain and co captain but….." Lizzette didn't need to say more, Violet understood.

"I see….. so about the other teams, how powerful are they?" Violet asked.

###

"Why Violet? Why did you ask?" Dewey cried out, tears nearly falling from fear.

"Don't you think that's enough teasing?" Jo looked at her partner, a small smile forming. Jordan didn't say a thing, with just a wave of his hand he summoned another root from the ground and slammed it against Dewey. Jordan smiled as he slid his hand to the side making the root slam Dewey against a tree and trap him.

"Maybe it is time to take out the big guns. You mind queeny?" Jordan happily looked over at her. Jo shook her head in excitement and clapped her hands. The ground began to shake, letting vines crawl out as if they were arms, letting out the same plant creation Louie fought. Only it appeared a whole lot bigger than the last time Louie faced it.

"Not this again." Lena lightly complained. The plant creature raised it's dirt first in the air and let it fall towards them. Lena formed a shield around her and Violet, blocking the hit. The force was so strong it nearly knocked the shadow girl off her feet.

"And Winnie said this is only her second biggest creation!" Violet tried to speak over the loud slamming sounds.

"Man, that's a strong shield." Jo calmly commented before jumping up in excitement. She cuffed her hands over mouth and shouted, "Harder! Hit it harder!"

The creature seemed to understand her. This time it raised both fists and slammed them down together. Lena and Violet screamed when the hit caused a large crack in the shield.

"No you don't!" A familiar voice cried out. While the plant creature had it's fists down, it felt a sudden weight on it's wrists. Once again, they had turned into gold.

"How did he get past-" Jordan looked around for the green triplet until one of his teammates came in.

"So sorry!" Katie jumped into the flower platform still in her water from, "He slipped past us by turning Sophie into gold."

"She's gold?" Jo gasped.

"Ninja is half gold as well. I only escaped because-" Katie got interrupted.

"Thought you could run!" Louie jumped up and tried to tackle Katie. The girl let out a squeak of fear before letting herself sink into the ground in her water form. Louie fell onto his shoulder, wincing in pain, "Dang it! I hate it when she does that!"

"Planta!" Jo yelled out to her plant creation. In a split second, the plant creature stretched out one of it's vines to attack Louie. Thinking fast, Louie rolled away from the vine and the moment the vine hit the platform he grabbed it. In seconds the vine turned to gold, making the creature stuck again.

"Thought you get the best of me again?" Louie stood up with an expression filled with determination.

###

"Don't take it personally!" Louie and Lena felt a pair of arms wrap around behind their shoulders, "My team has a soft spot for you guys."

"Are you sure about that?" Webby winced when Dewey waddled his way to the couch from all the pain.

"Ice….. he has ice powers too? I thought Sophie was the only one with ice powers." Dewey flopped on the couch.

"I thought Jordan only had plant-like powers?" Lena commented. Katie nodded her head yes before releasing them from her grip.

"That's true but he is the descendent of Demeter. Meaning he has the same powers as her……" Katie looked down at Dewey with a cheery face, "That includes weather like winter. And from the looks of it, he seems to dislike you."

"It's because I ruined one, one date between him and the co captain." Dewey cried out, half in pain and half from fear.

"Ah, that explains it," Katie walked up to the fridge and grabbed some ice packs.

###

"I hate this!" Louie tried to keep his balance but the room kept on spinning and spinning. Throwing his whole team around as if they were inside a washer machine.

"Where's the target?!" Dewey tried to reach out for the violin but the room again shook and made the violin fall down the stairs.

"Violet!" Lena cried out for her sister, still trying to make her way across the room. Soon, a chair swiped past her, making her lose balance and slide away.

"I can't even tell where I am!" The team heard Violet's voice but couldn't find her.

"Why didn't any of us choose an agility power?" Huey kept running away from all the falling debri until the room turned to it's right. He leaned to the open doors beneath him and fell right in. He was now inside what looked like a basement.

"The target!" Violet was at the corner, pointing at the target that was nailed to the wall above them.

"How are we supposed to get that?" Huey was in a panic and couldn't think.

"I got this!" They heard Gosalyn cheer as if nothing was wrong. In a blink of an eye, a rubber ball slammed against the target making the room stop spinning. The ball bounced off the walls multiple times before returning to it's red haired owner.

"So happy I chose a strength related power!" Gosalyn laughed and fist bumped the air.

###

"How have we made it this far? I don't know!" Louie cried out, "I just want the rooms to stop changing every second!"

"Nothing in the room beyond this wall either." Violet came back through the wall. She looked just as disappointed as the rest of her team.

"What if we wait for another team to come our way?" Boyd suggest, "They might know a way out of the labyrinth?"

"Last thing we're doing is teaming up with any other team," Lizzette said, "You saw what happened. Apollo's team nearly lost when they tried to team up with Zeus's team."

"True," Lena lightly hit the wall with the back of her head, "So what should we do?"

"I'll check the room below." Violet said before jumping through the floor below them.

"We can't keep relying on Violet to check every room. We have to come up with a strategy." Huey was tired of going in circles.

"Hueys right, we're just wasting time checking every room." Louie agreed.

"And who knows what Violet will find." Webby thought.

"What do you mean by that?" Dewey asked. As if in cue, the team heard Violet scream from the room below.

"Vi!" Lena panicked. She laid down and placed her ear against the floor, "What's happening?!"

###

"So you're telling me there's someone out there actually trying to hurt us?" Mimi was nervously pacing back and forth.

"Someone? There's more than one person," Huey concluded, "Every team had their captain or co captain hurt to the point where they couldn't continue the games. That takes more than one person."

"Ok but who would do that? You saw how messed up the Apollo team was. The captain can't even walk properly. He's too scared to continue the games!" Lizzette was just as scared as everyone.

"Which is probably what they want," Huey said, "Whoever is attacking the teams either has a grudge against them or is trying to win by default."

###

Super excited! And thank you to the authors that agreed to make cameos in my story. Mimi is @ilovebhna .

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #dt #dt 2017 #fanfic #fanfiction

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nothingbutimagines · 3 years

Text

Elizabeths (Chapter II)

Pairing: Bad boy!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Cursing, death, mentions of suicide

Summary: Y/n is part of her high school’s most powerful and most popular clique, but she disapproves of the other girls’ behavior. When Y/n meets the new boy in school, Peter Parker, and begins dating him, what she has known to be her clique begins to unravel. Starting with the death of the clique leader, Liz Allan, one by one, people Y/n doesn’t like begin to die by her and Peter’s hands. Soon, she realizes that Peter is killing students he hates and begins to try to foil his plans, all while clashing with the new clique leader, Elizabeth “Betty” Brant.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: This is a Peter Parker AU I thought of doing. It’s a Heathers AU!!! This is going to follow a similar plot to Heathers, but of course, I won’t keep everything the exact same. Here, we meet our protaganist, Y/n, and our love interest, JD Peter.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

Dear Diary,

I know I said I only fuck with the college boys and to hell with the high school ones, but goddamn, I can’t take my mind of off Peter Parker. Especially with him pulling that shit he did with the gun in the commons.

“God, they won’t expel him. They’ll probably just suspend him for a week or something.” Lizzie insisted, clacking her croquet mallet against your own as you both chuckled.

“He used a real gun.” Liz scoffed. “They should throw his ass in jail. Doesn’t he know today’s climate? Hasn’t he heard of Columbine?”

“No way.” You argued, leaning forward on your unused mallet as you watched Liz retie her ponytail with that red scrunchie you always hated. “He used blanks. All Peter did was ruined two pairs of pants... maybe not even that...” You and Lizzie began giggling. “I mean, can you bleach out urine stains?”

The sound of Liz knocking her mallet into the red ball and the red ball hitting Betty’s green one was a response enough. The sound was almost deafening as silence fell between you and Lizzie.

“Ah, yes, Peter.” Liz finally spoke up, “You seem pretty amused. I thought you were over high school guys.”

“Never say never.”

“What are you going to do, Liz? Take the two shots or knock me out?” Betty asked, her doe like eyes meeting Liz’s, making it clear she had not been paying attention to the conversation at hand.

“Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast?” Liz snapped. “First you ask if you can be red, knowing I am always red...”

You watched as Liz took a step forward, her foot firm on her red ball as she hit the mallet against it, the red ball sending Betty’s green into the flower bed, causing you to wince as Liz grunted triumphantly.

Liz hit her ball again, this time falling short of the wicket as she groaned, rolling her eyes. Always too cocky too early, Liz.

“Damn.” She cursed. “Anyway, I can say never to high school boys. Especially when I have Steve.”

“Ah, yes. King Steve.” Lizzie chuckled, taking her shot and getting the yellow ball through the wicket as she squealed.

“Maybe when you get older and actually reach maturity, you’ll understand the difference between Columbia University man like Steve and a Midtown High boy like Brad “nut-and-bolt” Davis.”

Lizzie shrugged. “I think Brad’s sweet. Your turn, Betty!”

Betty pouted, a whine escaping her throat as she navigated getting into the flower bed, trying to avoid the peonies your mother had planted earlier in the week.

“No pain, no gain!” Lizzie teased.

“Give it up, girl!” You added, both of you howling at Betty.

You watched as Betty furrowed her brow, leaning down a bit as she hit the ball. You chuckled as it bounced off a tree and then hit the fountain in the yard before rolling perfectly through the wicket.

“Holy shit!” You gasped, howling in laughter.

“That was incredible!” Lizzie squealed.

“What. A. Shot.” Liz added, shaking her head, a mixture of pride and jealousy in her smirk.

You began setting up your shot as Lizzie spoke up, your attention half on her and the other half on getting the shot.

“So, tonight’s the night. Are you two excited?” Lizzie asked, glancing between both you and Liz.

“I’m giving Y/n her shot. Her first Columbia party. You blow it tonight, girl, and it’s keggers with kids all senior year.”

You groaned, having missed your shot. As you dropped your mallet, bending down to pick it up, you rolled your eyes as Liz’s attitude.

“Damn.” You cursed. “So, who’s this Bucky guy I’ve been set up with? Witty and urban pre-law or an idiot and savant art major?”

“Don’t worry.” Liz rolled her eyes. “Steve says he’s very. So he’s very.”

“I doubt it.” You muttered, knowing full well the only boy you wanted to be set up with is the bad boy wannabe from the commons.

“Lizzie! Your mom is here!” Your mother called before Liz could open her mouth to say anything further.

“Come on, whoever wants a ride!” Lizzie announced. “Bye, Y/n. Good luck.”

“Yeah, good luck.” Betty agreed as she rushed past, following Lizzie and Liz up the stairs.

You dropped your mallet and followed behind the girls, waving them off as they cut through the side of the house and off the property. You took a seat at the table on the patio as your father took a seat beside you, James Patterson book in hand as you mother joined you both, salsa and chips on the platter clutched in her fists.

“So, what was the first week of Spring Break withdrawal like?” Your father asked, leaning past your slouching figure to grab a chip.

“Hey, kid, isn’t the prom coming up?” Your mother asked before you could answer your father.

You shrugged with a smile. “I guess it is.”

“Any contestants worth mentioning?”

“Maybe. I guess you could say there is a bit of a dark horse in the running.”

“Goddamn. Why do I even read these damn Patterson books. Bastard probably doesn’t even write them.” Your father chimed in, looking up at you.

“Because you’re an idiot.” You beamed, laughing alongside him for a moment.

“Oh, yeah. That’s it.”

“You two...” Your mother smiled, shaking her head.

“Thanks for the salsa.” You rose from your seat. “But I gotta motor if I want to be ready for that party tonight.”

Dear Diary,

When you fuck with the eagles, you gotta learn to fly. Columbia is Liz kicking my ass out of the nest, whether I like it or not. And to be honest, I don’t wanna fucking fly.

You opened the car door, the cold night breeze chilling you to the bone as you slammed the door shut, wincing as you knew Liz would scold you for your improper behavior later. Tugging at the length of your sleeves, you walked towards the 7-11.

“Corn nuts!” Liz yelled, half her body out the car window as she yelled at you.

Without looking back, you waved her off, tempted to just give her the middle finger and call it a night.

You swung the door open, the warm draft greeting you as you made a beeline to the Corn Nuts, hoping to get in and get out and get this goddamn Columbia party over with.

“You going to get a Big Gulp with that?” A voice erupted from behind you as you turned around, the bag of Corn Nuts you needed in hand.

“No, but if you’re nice, I’ll let you buy me a Slurpee.” You teased, meeting Peter’s eyes, or rather, eye, as the other was covered by his falling bang. “You sure do know your 7-11 slang.”

“I’ve moved around all my life; Baton Rouge, Vegas, Dallas, Suburbia. There’s always been a 7-11. The only stability. Any town, any time, I can pop a chicken sandwich in the microwave and feast on a tornado. Keeps me sane.” He explained, his hand shaking next to his head at the end of his speech.

“Really?” You asked, “I don’t know, I mean, that thing you pulled today was pretty severe.”

“The extreme always makes an impression, but you’re right, it was pretty severe. Did you say a Coke or Cherry Slurpee?”

“I didn’t.” You pulled a red vine from the open box at the counter. “Cherry.”

You smiled, taking a bit out of the vine as you twirled it between your fingers, Peter matching your expression. You took the Slurpee from his hand and followed him to the counter, the silence between you comfortable as he paid for the snacks you collected and you followed him outside.

You shivered in the cold air, the thought that getting a Slurpee was a good idea now turning in your mind.

“Great bike.” You nodded to the motorcycle as Peter took a seat on it.

Liz honked her horn, causing you to tear your gaze from Peter as she gave you an agitated look, only for you to return the gesture with a glare and turn back to Peter.

“Just a humble perk from my uncle’s construction company or should I say deconstruction company?”

“I don’t know, should you?”

“My uncle seems to enjoy tearing things down more than building things up. Seen the commercial? ‘Bringing every State to a Higher State.’“

“Oh, shit.” You gasped, connecting the dots as you playfully hit Peter’s shoulder. “Peter Parker... Your uncle’s Big Ben Parker Construction. Must be rough, moving place to place.”

Peter shrugged. “Everybody’s got some static in their life. Is your life perfect?”

You scoffed. “Sure, I’m going to a Columbia University party.”

Liz honked the horn again, letting her hand rest on the horn for a little longer as you frowned.

“It’s not perfect.” Your tone was serious. “I don’t really like my friends.”

“I don’t really like your friends either.” Peter shook his head, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

“It’s like they’re just people I work with and our job is being popular and shit.”

“Maybe it’s time for a vacation.”

Liz’s horn blared again as you waved at Peter, starting to walk away. “You’re telling me!”

Dear Diary,

The day I take a vacation, that’ll be the day Liz Allan is dead. Until then, I’m stuck doing my job being her popular lap dog and sucking her dick by telling her how hot and popular she is.

You could barely suppress a look of disgust as you followed Liz and Steve through the crowded dormitory hallway and into Steve’s dorm. You hated Steve. Sleazy, sweaty, somewhat mediocre looking Steve. You could feel the clot of bile creep up your throat as Steve held the door open for you, the sick smell of cheap beer and sweat so pungent your eyes teared up.

“You can just throw your coats down on the bed, girls.” Steve instructed as both you and Liz slipped off your coats and did as you were told.

You watched as Steve walked away for a moment, you assumed to get Bucky as you looked at Liz, who was watching them as well, the doe like look in her eyes telling you that she was in love with him. That for some reason, the clever bitch fell for the disgusting college guy.

“Y/n, this is Buck.” Steve introduced the other boy, his hand clasped on his shoulder as he guided him to you.

“Excellent.” Bucky nodded, his eyes tracing over your form as you held back a frown. “Did you girls bring your partying boots?”

“Yeah, let’s party.” Liz smiled, jerking you to get you to do the same.

Steve chuckled, throwing his arm around Liz as he looked at her. “What can I say? She loves to party.”

Dear Diary,

I want to kill and you have to believe... damn pen!

“So, are you a cheerleader?” Bucky asked, his back against the tacky blue and grey striped wallpaper.

“Not at all.” You gagged, the smell of beer and cigarettes on his breath making you nauseous as you took a sip of the drink in your hand.

“You’re pretty enough to be one.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s so great to be able to talk to a girl without having to ask ‘what’s your major?’ I hate that.” Bucky took a sip of his beer before continuing, “So, when you go to college, what do you think you’ll study?”

You have to believe it’s for more than selfish reasons. More than a spoke in my menstrual cycle. You have to believe me.

Bucky had given up on conversation, you could tell by the way he shifted on his heels uncomfortably. It’s not like you minded, nor cared, since you debated finding Liz’s coat and stealing her car, leaving her in your dust.

Goddamn Liz. Goddamn Columbia guys. Goddamn you for agreeing to be here.

“So, what do you say we go up to my dorm and have a real party? I’ve got the best rap mix in the whole dorm.” Bucky’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as another boy approached.

“Buck, man,” The boy jerked Bucky around by the shoulder, “Nick’s been looking for you. He says he owes you for blow and he just got some shit himself.”

“You’re kidding. Asshole really scored some of his own?”

“He’s in Nat’s room. Go, man. Party on.”

“Excellent.” Bucky finally turned to you, as if he forgot you were even there, “Y/n, you ever do coke?”

“Ever since writing that DARE essay in fifth grade, I refuse everything.”

“DARE? Are you sure that shit still works?”

You smacked your forehead lightly. “Oh, geez, right! I wrote that at eleven. Might as well do drugs now since I’m not so stupid!”

You groaned, pushing through the crowded hallway back to where you and Liz had thrown your coats.

“Hey, don’t run off, now!” Bucky called out, following behind you closely.

Seventeen is the last year Mom buys the Twinkies. When you make the jump from working at Pizza Hut on the weekends to working thirty years at I.B.M, when you lose something, not innocence - power.

You swung open the door to the room, throwing yourself on the stack of coats on the couch beside the door. Setting your glass of vodka in your lap, you pulled out the matchbook you’d gotten at the 7-11. You struck a match, holding your hand over the flame, bringing it closer and closer until the red light licks your hand, causing you to shriek in pain. You dropped the match into the glass, shocked when it catches fire. Giggling to yourself, you toss the glass out the open window; out of sight, out of mind.

“There you are.” Bucky’s voice has you rolling your eyes as you turn to him. “How’s my little cheerleader? Now I know everyone at your high school isn’t so uptight, come on.”

His hand was coated in sticky sweat as it touched your tight covered thigh and his breath was hot and warm as his leaned in too close to your face.

“Hey, I really don’t feel so great.” You argued, shoving him away from you as you shot up off the couch.

“Let’s do it on the coats.” He grinned, oblivious to your side of the conversation. “It’ll be excellent.”

“You know, I have a little prepared speech I give when my suitor wants more than I’d like to give him. Gee, Blank, I had a nice-”

“Save the speeches for Malcolm X. I just wanna get laid.” Bucky chuckled, cutting off your sentence before you could even get the bulk of it out.

You yanked your coat out from under him, sending him sliding off the couch and to the floor.

“You don’t deserve my fucking speech.” You huffed, stepping over him and storming out the door.

You slow as you realized you now gained Liz’s attention, along with Steve’s as Bucky emerges from the “coat” room. You can tell by the falling smiles on both Steve’s and Liz’s faces as Bucky spews some words you can’t hear that they are more than pissed at you. You watch, your eyes widening as Liz slides her beer glass on the table beside her, steel-faced as she approaches you.

“What’s your damage? Bucky says you’re being a real cooze.” Liz snapped.

“Liz, I feel awful, like I’m going to throw up. Can we jam, please?”

“Hell no.”

You couldn’t help it, the sudden clot in your throat was replaced with actual vomit as you leaned against the wall, rendered unable by your sudden fatigue to make it to the bathroom. You leaned over, vomit spilling onto the carpet and splatter hitting Liz’s red heels. Groaning, you charge down the hallway and out the door, determined to make it back to the car as Liz follows close behind.

Christ, I can’t explain it, but I’m allowed an understanding that my parents and these Columbia University assholes have chosen to ignore. I must stop Liz.

“You stupid cunt!” Liz roared, the trash can fire casting shadows on her face as you shivered in the cool night air.

“You goddamn bitch!”

“You were nothing before you met me! You were playing Barbies with Cindy Moon! You were a Brownie, you were a Bluebird, you were a Girl Scout Cookie! I got you into a Columbia University party! What’s my thanks? It’s on the hallway carpet. I got paid in puke!”

“Like it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.”

“Monday morning, you’re history. I’ll tell everyone about tonight. Transfer to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson. No one at Midtown is going to let you play their reindeer games.”

Cindy Moon was a real friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatchdogs and Diet Cokeheads. Killing Liz’d be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West. Or is it East? West! I sound like a fucking psycho. Tomorrow I’ll be kissing her aerobicized ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Liz. A world where I am free.

You couldn’t help but fling your diary across the room, the satisfying thud from it hitting the wall beside your window soothing you as you wallowed in anger. You gasp as you hear a sound at the window, looking up, you tear off your glasses and make eye contact with one Peter Parker.

“Dreadful etiquette, I apologize.”

“It’s okay...” You replied breathlessly.

“I saw the croquet set out back, you up for a match?”

Your heart was still racing, however instead of the initial shock, it was now revving up with anxiety as you looked at the boy in your bedroom. Was he even really there? Or was he just an anger fueled hallucination?

“Sure. But I’m blue.”

Dear Diary,

When did my life become reminiscent of a YA novel? When did I come to believe it wasn’t weird that Peter Parker was coming through my window? Did Twilight finally condition me into believing odd behavior was true romance?

“Now I can see why you looked so mangled when I came up.” Peter shook his head, his voice soft.

You shifted so that your head was on his bare chest, your eyes focused on the pile of his clothes that sat beside him.

“I’ve always treated Liz’s drama queen plays as bullshit, but I’m honestly really scared. Who am I going to sit with at lunch on Monday?” You groaned, leaning back onto the grass, the blades pricking your bare shoulders. “God, I sound like I’m from Riverdale.”

“Are girls really that bad?”

“It’s a dog eat dog world.” You shrugged. “It feels like it’s either kill yourself or get told to kill yourself.”

“Geez.” Peter shook his head. “That was my first game of strip croquet, by the way. I thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s a lot more interesting than flinging your clothes off and going at it on a neighbor’s swing set.”

“Well, I don’t know, there’s something to be said for- ouch!”

You chuckled as the blue mallet that was stuck in the ground fell over and hit the boy. He handed you your panties that fell along with the mallet before sliding on his own underwear.

“What a night.” You giggled, slipping on your panties as you kissed him softly and stood up. “What a life. I almost moved into high school right out of sixth grade because I was some sort of genius. But of course, my mother was too scared I wouldn’t make friends, so we chucked the idea and blah, blah, blah.”

You searched the yard for your clothes, cursing Peter silently for allowing you to toss them around instead of into a neat pile like he had done. You picked up your shirt and pants, gathering up your socks and slippers before putting them on as you spoke.

“But now blah-blah-blah is all I ever do. I use my grand I.Q. to decide what shade of lip gloss to buy and how to hit three keggers before curfew. Some genius.”

“Liz Allan is one bitch that deserves to die.” Peter blurted out, making it clear he wasn’t listening to you.

“Killing her won’t solve anything.”

“A well time lighting bolt on her walk into school on Monday morning, all the other Elizabeths, shit, the whole school, would be cut loose.”

“Well, then, I will pray for rain.” You chuckled. “A flowerpot falling from the window sill would work just as well, more likely to happen too.”

“You see those condoms in the grass? We killed it tonight, Y/n. We killed our baby.”

“Hey, it was good for me too, imbecile.”

“I’m just saying. It’s not hard to end a life.”

“There’s a big difference between killing the prom queen and busting into a condom.”

You both laugh as Peter finally starts getting dressed.

“I guess I don’t know what I’m talking about. After all, there’s only one genius here.”

“I know exactly what the hell you’re talking about and you’re right, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Why don’t we just graduate, grow old and be adults, and then die?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“But before we do that, I want to see Liz Allan spew chunks so we can call it even.”

_____________________

Tagged: @thewinchesterchronicles @spookyanairwin @audreylovespidey706 @asonofpeter @halparkebitch

message me to be added to the taglist!

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emmabodt · 3 years

Text

Jaw Titan Part 1

Ymir nervously dragged her fingertips over the rough wall of the stone passage, distracting herself with the sharp texture as she descended underground. No Shifter liked being underground; it gave them really bad claustrophobia, because transforming would mean certain death.

They had been walking for several minutes, and according to Sienna, their destination was just ahead. Not that Ymir was looking forward to it.

"Ymir?... You might wanna stop now," Sienna spoke. Ymir looked over and saw that Porco and Sienna had stopped a few feet behind her. In front of them was just plain wall, no door to be seen. Ymir gave them an annoyed look.

"Huh?"

Sienna shrugged." This door was designed to be invisible. If someone wanted to break in and got this far, we hope that they would walk right past the door and get lost in the tunnels. They go on for awhile."

Ymir watched silently as Sienna gave the wall a solid shove, pushing it backwards until it slid to the side, revealing a solid oak door. Then she fished around for something under her shirt, pulling out a pendant and a key. Sienna quickly slid the key off her head and inserted it into the lock, opening it with a loud creak.

Ymir stuck her head over Sienna's shoulder and inhaled sharply. Terror slowly snaked it's way up from her stomach and wrapped itself around her heart as she took in the sight in front of her; a large, white walled room filled with white robed people and tables strewn with papers, bottles, and God knows what.

Sienna stepped through the door and spun to look at her companions, stretching out her arms with a small smile on her face." Welcome to the T.B.R.A., a place few people get to see."

Porco huffed and brushed past Ymir through the door." This place is already giving me the creeps."

Sienna dropped her arms and nodded. " Yeah, I know. Just wait till you've got the Jaw within you; it will be a lot worse."

Porco blinked, then turned to look at the freckled girl standing right outside the door." Is that true?"

Ymir scowled." It doesn't matter what the hell is inside of me, this place is creepy enough to scare away anybody."

Sienna shrugged again as she spun around and started walking towards a door on the far end of the room." Try to keep up, you guys!"

As Porco and Ymir began to follow her, Sienna whistled and snapped her fingers.

"Leo! Lucy! Gray! Follow me! We've got work to do!"

Almost immediately, two men and a small woman fell into step behind the scientist. The woman, Lucy, who's long blonde hair swished with her every movement, fell into step beside Sienna.

"Dr. Alchuwitz? What are we doing?" she asked, twisting her hair into a neat ponytail.

"I bet it's something to do with that Titan experiment the Doc's been talking about lately," said the dark haired man.

"I think so too; see him?" said the man with the messy brown hair, jerking his thumb at Porco." He's one of the Titan candidates."

Ymir folded her arms across her chest, feeling her stomach twist. She wished more than anything that Krista was here. She would calm Ymir's nerves, help her stay strong. But she wasn't here.

"You're all right," said Sienna as she led them through the door into another room." These two are here as a test run for our theory."

The work trio nodded quietly in understanding as Sienna continued to lead them through various labs and rooms. In them, Ymir saw more white robed people, looking through those micro things, reading things from important looking papers, mixing things in glass beakers.

Finally, Sienna threw open the doors to a room that looked different than the others; it looked like a lounge of some sorts, with soft, cushy chairs place up against the wall, and small tables stacked with books scattered all around.

"Welcome to the lab, guys!" Sienna said as she walked over to a closet and flung it open, shrugging off her sweater before draping herself in a white lab coat. Without missing a beat, she pointed at Porco.

" You stay here and find something to read. Don't snoop around and stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Why would I? This place creeps me out," Porco huffed, flopping down in one of the chairs. Sienna turned to Ymir.

"Alright; are you ready?"

Ymir nodded mutely, feeling claustrophobia clawing at her stomach. Sienna smiled at her comfortingly and put an arm over her shoulder, gently pushing the freckled girl towards a door on the opposite side of the room.

"Ymir-" Sienna was cut off by a shake of Ymir's head.

"Look, I'm going in that room and going through with whatever the hell you have in store for me. You don't need to promise me anything. This whole deal is a gamble, but I wouldn't do it if I didn't trust you," the freckled girl muttered." Now take me in there and do what you gotta do."

Sienna's smile grew a bit more as they walked through the door with her three assistants behind her.

"Thank you, Ymir."

.......................................................................

The room looked like a hospital room than anything. There was a bed surrounded by tables that were filled with all sorts of medical equipment.

"Welcome to my humble abode," said Sienna as she and her assistants pulled on long white gloves." This is where I extract Zeke's spinal fluid."

Ymir nodded and sat herself on the bed." So is this bed covered in his monkey sweat?"

"Nope; we change the sheets every time he comes here," said Lucy cheerily, pulling on her own gloves." We have to keep this place as sanitary as possible so that Zeke stays healthy. Sticking an unsanitary needle that far down into the body would make someone pretty sick."

Ymir huffed as Sienna walked back over, pulling her hair back into a neat ponytail.

"Okay Ymir; do you need anything to help you relax? A backrub, a moment to breathe, or a sip of something strong?"

Ymir leaned back on her hands and smirked. " You drink on duty, doc?"

Sienna shrugged cheerily. " Well... Zeke gets a little thirsty after his appointments..."

Ymir chuckled. " Well, if that guy drinks it, it must be good stuff. Hit me."

"As you wish," said Sienna as she produced a bottle and a glass from behind one of the tables." You were right in guessing that Zeke only drinks the finest Marleyan liquor."

"Well of course; everything about that guy reeks of high quality," Ymir said as she watched Sienna poor her a glass of the "fine liquor". As soon as Sienna handed her the glass, the freckled girl drained it.

"Alright. Let's do this," she said, handing back the glass. Sienna took it and handed it to Lucy with a small nod.

"Ok, please remove your shirt and lay on your stomach; try to relax as much as possible; the looser the muscle, the easier the procedure," she said, slipping into a professional tone. Ymir removed her shirt and flopped onto her bare belly as Leo handed Sienna a freshly sanitized needle. A big one Ymir noted.

Ymir shivered. The last time a needle had touched her, the unending nightmare began. She shut her eyes and tensed instinctively as the needle got closer.

"Ymir, relax." Sienna pulled the needle away.

"I'm sorry, I can't. I can't help it."

Sienna nodded at Gray as she soothing lay ran her hand over Ymir's back.

"It's okay. I'll help you. Gray here is good with massages, he can help you loosen up."

Gray started to approach Ymir, but she shook her head." I don't like being touched."

Sienna sighed. She could tell the girl she had on the table in front of her had been through a lot of trauma.

"Ok then...can I sedate you?"

Ymir gave a silent nod.

"Alright," Sienna said as she walked away to a nearby table." I'm going to have to use a needle."

Ymir nodded again as Sienna picked up another needle and filled it with a clear liquid. The fear in her stomach intensified as Sienna turned back around, needle in hand.

"Ymir, would you stretch out your arm?"

Sienna watched as Ymir streched her arm beyond her head, palm up. Her fingers shook ever so slightly. The blonde quickly plunged in the needle and emptied it before Ymir could pull back in fear.

Almost instantly, Ymir could feel the effect from the drug now running through her veins. Everything got blurry, and she could feel her eyelids getting heavy. She could barely hear Sienna tell her to lay back down before everything went black. .......................................................... Sienna sighed as Ymir blacked out. The poor girl was traumatized from the last time she had been turned into a Titan.

Sienna turned to her assistants with a grim, determined face.

"Let us begin the procedure."

-------------------------------------------------- Word Count: 1501

I.... Owe everyone a very big apology. I haven't posted anything since august, and i feel terrible for that.

#reiner braun #reiner x krista #porco galliard #porcoxpieck #bertholdt hoover #bertholdt x annie #eren yeager #krista lenz #Annie Leonhardt

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levi-inthesun · 4 years

Text

Loving Someone

This is for @stuckonjbbarnes writing challenge with the song Loving Someone by The 1975.

Summary: In order to protect your heart, you made up the “only fuck once” rule, dictating that you could not sleep with the same person more than once. Then Carol Danvers comes back to the compound, to stay. Will this rule bite you in the ass?

Warnings: Swearing, references to smut, dirty talk?

Paring: Carol x Reader

A/N- I did not edit this.... so sorry

“What are you doing tonight?” Sam asked as you both slowed to an easy jog.

“Probably just gonna go the bar,” you reply easily.

Sam stops abruptly, “How long are you going to stay in denial?” There isn’t any malice or bite to his words, just genuine concern and it makes you feel uneasy. You make some non-committal noise instead of answering and finish jogging to the doors of the compound.

You do your best to avoid Sam the rest of the day, which wasn’t too difficult until it’s time for you to leave for your favorite bat. Except Sam is standing by the door, dressed and ready to go. As you approach, Sam has that look in his eyes and you know you cannot convince him to stay home unless you stay home tonight.

“You driving or are we getting an uber?” You ask, throwing your cropped leather jacket on.

“I’ll drive,” Sam decides, grabbing a random set of keys and you both make your way to the garage.

The bar is only slightly packed, which is, in your humble opinion, optimal. You like to have room to breathe, more specifically though, room to dance with whatever woman consents.

You skip over to the bar and order a rum and coke and chat with your favorite bartender and Sam watches from a booth he’s claimed.

“You know, you are a lot less closed off here,” he casually says while throwing a peanut into his mouth.

“Are you just going to therapize me the entire night?” You (semi) joke.

Sam shrugs and you take a long sip of your drink before moving towards the dancing people.

The night went on how every weekend-night goes. You get pleasantly buzzed/on the edge of drunk, dance with hot women, and eventually, go to either your place or their place where you will (hopefully) ravish each other.

You wake up slowly, a faint pressure on your hip. You hear the woman behind you breathe deeply before stretching gently.

“Morning,” she says softly, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “I’d love to stay for breakfast, er,” she looks at her phone. “Lunch but I’ve got a meeting later.”

You nod and watch her hop around throwing her clothes back on. “I’m just gonna use the bathroom then I’ll be out of your hair,” she says, watching as you sit up and the sheet pools around your waist.

You raise an eyebrow in reply.

Once she’s left (with her phone number written on your mirror with the lipstick she was wearing last night), you throw on a pair of sweats and one of Sam’s shirts before making your way out to the kitchen.

“She was cute,” Sam says, throwing something in the microwave.

You hum in agreement and look through the fridge, eventually settling on an apple.

“Oh, we’ve got a meeting at 3,” Sam informs you. “Captain Marvel is back in town and she has some stuff she needs to brief us on.”

“Captain Marvel is a woman, huh?” You ask Sam, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

“You do know that not everyone is bisexual, right?” Sam teases. He grabs his bag of popcorn out of the microwave and starts to walk out of the kitchen before turning back. “Uh, maybe don’t have a one night stand with our teammate?”

You are ready to crawl into a hole or have the earth open up and eat you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Carol greets you, a mischievous glint in her light brown eyes.

“Oh, fuck me,” you whisper before composing yourself. “Hey, Carol,” you say, shaking her hand.

“I already did,” Carol states, voice low, before switching gears to get the meeting started.

The entire meeting is spent trying to listen to Carol talk about possible issues outside of the earth’s orbit, but really you just end up staring, flashes from last night taking over when she moves a certain way. The other part is spent sending death glares at Sam and Bucky who are having the time of their lives at your misery.

Carol excuses herself to take a call and you lean forward, finger-pointing at the men across from you.

“You knew!” You whisper scream, “You couldn’t have warned me? What the hell?”

Sam grins, “I just… Listen, I was going to when I realized it was Carol, but then I remembered that it is 5 million times more fun watching you suffer.”

Bucky cocks his head to the side, “Wait, did you hook up with Carol?”

“Some spy you are,” you grumble as Carol walks back in, a slight frown on her face.

“Apparently I’m grounded for the next… well,” Carol pauses, taking a deep breath, “foreseeable future.”

Sam and Bucky high-five under the table, then volunteer you to show Carol around.

After showing Carol around the compound you decided you needed to go out again tonight. During the tour, Carol was extremely flirty, which was welcomed- except for the fact that she was a teammate and not a one night stand. To avoid her, you spent the rest of the day hiding in your room and searching your closet for the perfect outfit to wear. You ended up in a crop top with high waisted, wide-legged pants, and after checking yourself in the mirror you walked out of your room with your head held high. Luckily no one was in the kitchen and you were able to leave the compound without anyone noticing, or so you thought.

The club was vibrating with energy as patrons drank too much and danced as much as they could. You downed a shot at the bar then headed into the crowd. At the heart of the masses, you threw your hands in the air and danced, not caring who with. Soon a pair of large hands gripped your hips. Turning your head to the side, you glanced up at the beautiful man before leaning your body into his. Time was non-existent as you danced with the man and you were positive the feeling of his hand on your waist was burned into your skin.

“You want to get out of here,” he asked, lips at the shell of your ear and voice low.

“I’d rather stay here and dance for a little while longer. That good with you?” You replied eyebrow raised.

Instead of saying anything, he rolled his eyes and walked away, attaching those large hands to some other woman.

You rolled your eyes and sighed as you headed back to the bar and ordered a beer. You sat down and took a long drag from the bottle before popping some peanuts into your mouth. A remix of your favorite song came on, causing you to down the rest of the bottle before heading back into the throng.

You moved your own body with the mix of bodies around you, circling your hips, running your fingers through your hair. You saw a familiar hand slip around your middle and in your alcohol-induced haze, you thought it would be a good idea to test fate.

Lips crashed together as you both got out of the taxi and headed towards the compound.

“Wait,” you cautioned, “ Gotta make sure no one is up.”

“It’s 3 am, Y/N,” Carol countered, “Who is going to be up?”

You chuckled before heading into the common area, Carol trailing behind you. When you found everything dark and empty, Carol’s voice cut through the silence.

“FRIDAY, are any of our teammates up?”

“No,” FRIDAYS voice replied, volume lowered for how late early it was, “All Avengers except you and Y/N Y/L/N are asleep.”

A mischievous look took over Carol’s features as she stalked towards you, causing you to back into a couch, almost falling over the back of it.

Carol quickly caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing her lips to your neck with open-mouthed kisses, causing a low moan to escape you. She then traced her tongue from the pulse point below your jaw over to your mouth.

“You’ve gotta be quiet, baby,” Carol teased, voice low. “If you can do that, I’ll reward you by taking you to my room and fucking you so hard you can’t help but scream.”

A soft whimper left your lips and you nodded, crashing your lips against hers.

When you woke up, the first thing you realized was that you were alone in Carol’s bed. You quickly looked around, finding her room empty.

“God damnit,” you muttered to yourself. “I was supposed to go to the club and find someone else to sleep with.”

Your muttering continued as climbed out of her bed to find your clothes scattered throughout her quarters.

You didn’t notice right away when Carol walked back in, giving her the opportunity to admire your half-dressed form.

You were about to put your bra on when you noticed her, leaning up against her desk with two mugs of coffee in hand. Her lips turned up in a smirk as she saw what she thought looked a lot like relief flood over you.

Standing there, bra hanging around your middle, still staring at the gorgeous woman you’ve slept with twice now, you were overwhelmed with confusion. You quickly shook your head and fixed your bra and Carol pushed off the desk towards you.

“Thought you might want some coffee,” she said, handing it over.

“After last night I’ll probably need a pint,” you whispered, taking a sip.

“What was that?” Carol asked eyebrow raised.

You coughed and looked up at her before clearing your throat. “Uh, I just said I’d probably need a pint after last night.”

Carol smiled, “And why is that?”

“Seriously, Carol? Do you need to hear me say it?” you asked.

“Yes,” she replied simply. “Say it.”

You set the coffee down on the nearest flat surface before stepping closer to her. “I need a goddamn pint of coffee because you fucked me into almost every surface of your room until I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.”

“And I’ll do it anytime you’d like,” she told you, voice husky.

You quickly cleared your throat, then located your shirt and headed towards the door. “I wouldn’t count on it,” you did your best to keep your voice even. “I rarely sleep with the same person more than once.”

You spent the following weeks avoiding Carol unless absolutely necessary, which included going to a different bar and staying more sober than you normally would, just to make sure you didn’t accidentally end up back in her arms bed.

“You’ve been drinking less,” Bucky stated with a questioning look on his face.

“And what’s that to ya, bionicle boy?” you responded, taking another bite of leftover pasta.

Bucky shrugged, “ Just curious. I-”

“Not just curious,” Sam interrupted, walking out from around the corner. “There are very few things that can get you to drink less. So what is it?”

You huffed and was about to deny them when Carol walked in, sweaty from the gym. She greeted you and you smiled in response, then did your best to not watch the bead of sweat trail down her neck.

You sighed inwardly when she walked out of the kitchen.

Sam and Bucky shared a look before narrowing in on you.

“You just sighed,” Bucky accused, “What happened between you and Carol?”

“I bet I know,” Sam said. “I bet you slept with Carol a second time, breaking your only fuck once rule.”

You tried to interrupt Sam, but he wouldn’t let you.

“BUT! Not only that, you have a crush on her,” he finished.

“I do not!” You exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed.

“Your voice just went up an octave,” Bucky observed, “Which means you are lying.”

“What do you have to say about that?” Sam questioned.

You could feel your face heat up and you jumped off the counter. “I’d say,” you turn to them, legitimately annoyed now, “That it’s none of your business.”

Instead of stomping off to your room, you walked out the front door and headed in whatever direction your feet took you, ending up at a park. Taking a deep breath you sat down on a nearby bench and let your head fall back so you were looking up at the sky. You stayed like that for a while, just watching the soft clouds roll by, mind empty.

At least, it was empty until you looked up and saw two women holding hands, watching their kid go down the slide.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.

You thought about what Bucky and Sam had accused you of, and you knew they were right. You had a big ole’ fat crush on Carol Danvers, fucking Captain Marvel, the woman who played your body better than anyone ever had. That’s when memories flooded your mind.

Memories about people from your past who you had cared deeply for, and who all betrayed your heart. The last one was just after you dropped out of college, right before the Avengers recruited you. After her, you swore you’d never care for anyone in that way ever again. It was just easier that way. Except, when you looked back up at the couple, you felt a heavy loneliness come over you filled with a special kind of pain.

You looked away and your eyes caught on a woman who looked too much like Carol. You rolled your eyes before scrubbing your hands over your face.

“Y/N?” Carol’s voice called out, causing you to tear your eyes from a spot on the sidewalk, surprise etched into your features. “I was looking for you when Sam told me you walked off, upset. He said you’d probably be here.”

“Oh,” you said quietly.

Carol took that as an invitation to sit down next to you, allowing some space between.

“I was looking for you because I am fed up with you avoiding me,” She stated. “I’ve been tired of it for about a while now, actually.”

You let your eyes slide over to the woman next to you, eyeing her carefully.

“Another reason I came looking for you is because I was worried about you,” she said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, I’m fine,” you said far too quickly.

“Obviously,” Carol chuckled.

You were both quiet for a few beats too long when Carol spoke up again.

“It would be easy for me to be upset with how you’ve been treating me without acknowledging something probably happened to cause you to react like this,” she said, “So, I’ll just say this once and leave the ball in your court.” She turned her body towards yours and your body turned all on its own to face her. “It sucks that someone, or multiple someones, hurt you so badly in your past that you’ve decided to make your ‘only fuck once’ rule, all to avoid developing any sort of connection or feelings for anybody ever again. It seems like your rule to avoid connection is hurting you more than you thought it would, so I know there’s hope,” Carol stood up abruptly to stand in front of you.

“You should be loving someone,” she finally said. “Just, fucking let yourself love someone.”

You sat there staring at her, heart beating out of your chest because you knew she was right. You stayed silent because you were scared of how much you have already started falling for her, and you were searching for the right thing to say.

Carol hung her head in defeat before turning to walk back down the path she came, pausing like she wanted to say something else, but changed her mind and began walking away from you.

“Carol?!” You called as you walked into the common room, “Carol! Where are you?”

“Can you stop yelling,” a gruff voice pleaded from the couch. “She’s not here.”

“Do you know where she is?” you asked, “Buck, I need to find her.”

“I think she went to a bar,” Bucky said with a sigh, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to continue napping.

“Thanks!” You said, running towards your room to change your clothes.

You had gotten FRIDAY to disclose which bar Carol was at, and sped through New York traffic on your bike, getting there in record time.

As you walked in, your eyes scanned the room looking for her. You walked over to the bar to ask the bartender if they’d seen her, and they pointed to the far side of the room. You looked her over, noticing how she was leaning up against the wall, talking to some gorgeous woman. It reminded you of the last time you slept together, how sexy she looked leaning up against her desk.

The song changed to Loving Someone by the 1975, bringing you back into the present. You watched her for a moment longer, gathering your courage when she looked past the woman in front of her and locked eyes with you. A smile tugged at her lips giving you the courage you needed to close the distance. You saw her say something to the woman who waved her off before she met you halfway.

You both stopped in the middle of the bar and she looked to you expectantly.

“You were right,” you admitted. “I made that stupid rule to try to protect my heart and I think I honestly caused it to break too many times.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue.

You let out a sigh, “Aaaand I like you and that scares me,” you admitted.

Carol smiled, “Well, then can I buy you a drink?”

You shook your head, pulling the keys out of your pocket, “I’m good. You wanna go for a ride?”

Carol’s smile stretched further over her lips and she nodded, so you took her hand and walked out of the bar.

#dani250 #carol danvers #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers fanfic #carol danvers x reader #carol x reader #reader insert #Captain Marvel #captain marvel fanfic #captain marvel fanfiction #the avengers #The avengers fanfiction #The Avengers fanfic #carol danvers smut

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crocodileniall · 4 years

Text

masterlist wattpad

2.2 in which hope returns

warnings: angst, swearing, alcohol use

word count: 3032

Julianna took a deep breath, pacing around the room. She couldn’t breathe. Her nerves were eating her alive. “This was stupid I shouldn’t have said yes.”

Julianna was at the end of her American book tour, taking a break in New York for Fallon. The success of her book had caught the eye of numerous radio and talk show hosts. All of which were opportunities to get people interested in her books. Her book soon became a number one best seller.

“This wasn’t stupid,” Margaret sighed. “This is an incredible opportunity that no one is taking from you. Not you and definitely not Niall.”

“What the fuck are the odds he’s here tonight?” Julianna cried, desperately fixing her dress. “God I am so uncomfortable. I’m like itching out of my skin.”

“Okay okay,” Margaret nodded. “Do you want to change? We can-“

“Yes please I need pants,” Julianna begged, already unzipping her dress. She tossed the red monstrosity onto the couch, taking a pair of pants from her. They were her favorite pair of dress pants, tight and black and lovely.

“You packed them for me?” Julianna asked in a sweet voice, tugging them on. “I can’t believe it.”

“Well we have been working together for years I reckon I know you pretty damn well.”

Margaret handed her a black top that was just the right amount of see-through. Julianna finally relaxed when she was dressed. Her spot was short towards the end of the show which did nothing to silence her nerves.

Julianna turned the tv on, watching the interview happening right now. Jimmy was talking to someone she didn’t know, a model, she thought. The show had just started and Julianna was panicking. Gordy jumped on the couch behind her, licking at her face. Julianna ran her fingers through his fur, taking a breath.

“What do you need right now?” Margaret asked, rifling through her purse. “I hate seeing you like this. You need to calm down how can-“

“I want Niall, okay?” Julianna snapped, turning around to face her. “I want him and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s over. It’s done. This is easily the worst night of my entire life and nothing will make me feel better. Where’s my book at?”

Margaret picked it up off the table, handing it to her. Julianna sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Margaret shook her head. “I understand. I’m only trying to help. I’ll go grab you a coffee I know that won’t help your nerves but it’ll help your head.”

“Okay,” Julianna smiled almost weakly. “Thank you.”

Margaret slipped out the door, closing it behind her. She looked both ways down the hall before walking next door to the door with Niall’s name on it. She knocked twice, taking a step back. She looked over her shoulder once again.

The door swung open, Niall appeared before her. “M-Margaret hi.”

“Can we talk?” Margaret asked, shoving her phone into her pocket.

“Uh sure,” Niall nodded. “Come in.” He spun around, eyes darting between the people in the room. “Can we have a minute, please?”

Margaret, looked around, shaking her head. She was beginning to feel angry for Julianna. When everyone left, Margaret sat down on the sofa.

Niall sat across from her, hands clasped together. He cleared his throat, looking over to her. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you how this all happened,” Margaret told him. “Someone like Julianna doesn’t get much wiggle room with her dates and appearances and I’m sure you realize that. Did you know she’d be on the same night as you?”

“No,” Niall shook his head. “I swear to god I didn’t. If I did I would’ve rearranged stuff. Switched days, or something. God. This is the worst thing to ever happen.”

Margaret nodded, running her fingers through her hair. “I need you to be honest with me. Julianna won’t say shit about you. I need you to tell me what’s going on. All of it.”

“If Julianna doesn’t want to tell you then-“

“Do not sit here and pretend for one second that you have her best interest in mind,” Margaret demanded. “If you did we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Niall sighed, nodding. “The day she left, Julianna came over to my house to drop the box off. She begged me to make her stay. I couldn’t do it. I knew she’d stay as long as I asked her. I didn’t want to fuck with the book or her career so I-“ he sighed, tugging on his hair. “I asked her to leave.”

“I wish I could say there was an easier way to have made her leave,” Margaret nodded. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I guess maybe you do care about Julianna more than you’ve let on.”

“I love her,” Niall confessed, eyes pleading. “You have to understand it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I hate myself for it every god damn day.”

“She has a show tomorrow night at The Town Hall. You should be there,” Margaret told him. “You know Julianna maybe even better than I do. You know she won’t face you until you make her.”

“I don’t want to piss her off,” Niall shook his head. “If Julianna doesn’t want me to be there I’m not going to fuck anything else up for her.”

“I am strongly advising you to go,” Margaret stood up. “I won’t tell you what she’s told me but I will say, the hope isn’t lost. Julianna doesn’t hate you. Forgive yourself and she’ll forgive you. That’s the way she works.”

“I’ll think about it,” he nodded.

“Good luck tonight,” Margaret told him, standing up. “Just for reference. This song you’re going to sing. Strong? That’s about Anna?”

Niall nodded his head jerkily. “It’s my next single. I tried to sing a different song but I’m promoting it for the next couple of months.”

“I get it,” Margaret nodded. “So will she.”

Margaret walked out, going in search of a coffee cart. She would do anything for Julianna and sometimes even she didn’t see what was best for her.

Margaret didn’t like Niall from the jump. She didn’t like what he did to Julianna when they were together but even worse, she hated to see her after it all. After it went down in flames just as Margaret had predicted.

When Margaret walked back into the dressing room, Julianna was on FaceTime with Nina as she touched her makeup up. Margaret handed her a coffee, leaning on the table beside her.

“Thanks,” Julianna smiled, looking up at her.

“How are you feeling?” Margaret asked.

“Nervous but,” she nodded. “I’ll be okay. While you were gone Gordy and I ran down the hall a few times. A security guard yelled at me so I came back and called Nina.”

“I’m glad,” Margaret smiled, standing up. She walked away, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Julianna picked up her lipstick, looking down at Nina. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this interview. I have the biggest crush on Jimmy Fallon it’s almost embarrassing.”

Nina laughed, shaking her head. “He’s married. With kids.”

“I know!” Julianna laughed.

Julianna didn’t think she would, but she did survive the interview. Jimmy was so kind and funny and her nerves practically disappeared when she sat down.

The entirety of the interview was only ten minutes at the most. He asked her about Ireland and what it was like to live that way. Julianna smiled, shaking her head, “it was just easy. I didn’t worry about anything. Granted I did miss a lot of conference calls but other than that I was the happiest I had ever been.”

“Do you ever want to go back?” Jimmy asked, a smile on his face.

“All the time,” she laughed. “Having a best selling book is exhausting.”

Jimmy laughed, shaking his head. “I gotta tell you. I was on YouTube the other night and I was watching those fan react videos. And people are posting videos talking about what it’s like to meet you. Have you seen those?”

“No I haven’t,” Julianna shook her head, surprised. “I hope they’re all good things.”

“They’re all amazing,” Jimmy shook his head, leaning towards her. “You’re just so down to earth and humble. I love meeting people like you. It’s incredible.”

“Well thank you,” Julianna smiled, cheeks warming up. “I really appreciate that. I do have to note that my mother humbled me a lot when I was younger and also if I didn’t mention her I would need a new place to sleep tonight.”

Jimmy laughed, “that’s so funny. I’m glad you mentioned her. I also wanted to ask you about this guy,” he held up a card with one of Julianna’s Instagram posts. It was a picture of Gordy smiling at the beach. “Who is this guy and why do people love him more than you?”

Julianna laughed, leaning forward to look at him. “That is my Gordy my golden retriever. He is my best friend- he keeps me humbled as well. He goes everywhere with me. I mean everywhere.”

“Is he here now?” Jimmy asked, looking around.

“Yeah he’s in my dressing room,” Julianna smiled. “Would you like to meet him?”

“I would love to,” Jimmy laughed. “Can someone bring him out?”

Not a few minutes later, one of the stage managers brought Gordy out on his red leash. His tail was wagging, looking around at all the people as he walked toward them.

“He’s very well behaved,” Julianna told him, standing up to take his leash. “Thank you so much,” she smiled at the woman.

Jimmy came around his desk, kneeling down beside Gordy. He held his hand out for him to sniff, smiling as he said, “hey pal.”

Gordy licked Jimmy’s cheek, tail wagging. He nudged his head against his hand, whining.

Jimmy laughed petting Gordy. He looked up at Julianna. “What a personality.”

“This is why everyone loves him more than me,” Julianna chuckled watching as he laid down, rolling onto his back for Jimmy to scratch his stomach.

Jimmy laughed, looking up at the camera. “Julianna Rizzo, everybody. When we come back Julianna will read us a poem out of her best selling poetry book called Lost at Sea. We will be right back.”

The second half of the interview was a blur. She was overwhelmed by the audience, the cameras, the smile on his face.

By Jimmy’s request, she read a poem about getting lost at sea and someone grabs your hand and pulls you out just when you think you’ll drown. Niall was lost and Julianna pulled him out. It was the most Niall poem she could’ve read.

Only when Julianna was inside of her dressing room could she breathe and think and try to mull over the events that had occurred. Margaret handed her a glass of whisky, on the rocks, and pulled out her phone. “There’s a woman from the times here asking for an interview. Yes? I can say no?”

“No that’s fine,” Julianna nodded. She took a gulp of her drink, sitting down on the couch. “I need to go soon. Dinner with mom and Warren.”

“Of course,” Margaret nodded, typing on her phone. “Twenty minutes tops.”

Julianna pulled her hair up into a ponytail, getting it off of her neck. She could hardly think straight, shifting on the squeaky leather couch. This was the hard part. The appearances, the interviews. As much as Julianna loved to write, she hated talking about herself.

The woman who came in was a tall brunette. She had dark eyes, red lips pulled into a tight smile. Her pants suite screamed ‘I’m going to rip your coldest darkest secrets from your lips if it’s the last thing I do’. Gordy walked over to her, sniffing her heels, tail wagging. He looked up at her, almost smiling.

“Hi I’m Sylvia,” she introduced herself, shaking Julianna’s hand. “Thank you for letting me come in and interview you. I know you’re really busy.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Julianna shook her head, smiling. “Can I get you a drink? All we have is whisky.”

“I’m okay, thank you,” Sylvia laughed, sitting down across from her. She pulled her phone out. “Do you mind if I record?”

“By all means,” Julianna shook her head. “I have a fantastic speaking voice.”

Sylvia laughed, setting her phone down, face up. “I caught the last little bit of your interview with Jimmy. I think your speaking voice is fantastic. And Gordy? What a charming guy.”

“Thank you,” Julianna chuckled. “He is quite charming,” she agreed, watching him settle into his bed on the floor near the door.

“I read your book and I was so inspired to just fuck off to Ireland, rent a house, and not speak to anyone for weeks,” Sylvia gushed. “What was that like?”

“At first it was lonely- which I expected. I felt kind of crazy for a while but I got used to doing nothing but just feel things and write them down and pour my heart out and drink and-“ Julianna cut off with a sigh. “And it was incredible. I’m so proud of this book.”

“The second half of the book kind of threw me,” Sylvia admitted. “Did you meet someone out there or how did that come about?”

Julianna chuckled, nodding. She took a sip of her drink, catching Margaret’s eye from across the room. “Sort of. A man moved in beside me and we became good friends and then even better friends. So much so that my entire book was changed into a kind of before and after piece.”

“What are the odds that someone would move in,” Sylvia chuckled. “I’m not one to believe in fate or destiny or any of that junk but- your poems make me want to. You talk about right place right time and- it’s astonishing.”

Julianna smiled, nodding her head gently. “Yeah I guess fate is an interesting thing. I like to believe in it. I just can’t see this person being there by accident. Or even me for that matter.”

“Can you share anything about this mystery person,” Sylvia asked. The smile she recognized to be bloodsucking.

Julianna caught Margaret’s eyes again, she had a warning look on her face. Julianna cleared her throat, eyes shifting back to Sylvia. “I’m quite a private person. I would prefer not to answer that. All I can say is that he’s got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen and I wish him all the love in the world because he deserves it.”

Julianna heard Margaret exhale from across the room but she was holding Sylvia’s calculating gaze. ��That’s interesting.”

“Is it?” Julianna asked.

“It sounds like he’s an ex-lover,” Sylvia commented.

“I don’t care much for labeling things,” Julianna shook her head.

Sylvia cleared her throat, looking down at the notebook in her hand. “I wanted to ask you about your rise to fame. Before you wrote your first book, the anatomy of a kiss, you waited tables in London?”

“I did,” Julianna nodded. “I ran away to London when I was eighteen. Worked my ass off. Wrote until my fingers ached and I demanded a publishing deal from my current argent, assistant, friend, voice of reason, Margaret.”

“What do you mean demanded?” Sylvia asked.

“I went to her apartment and made her listen to me. I knew that I had a book people- specifically teenage girls needed. I’m using forceful verbs because there was nothing docile about how I’ve ended up here. I’ve screamed and cried and yelled my way to get here,” Julianna told her, not once looking away.

“Your poems are docile,” Sylvia concluded, closing her notebook. “Is that fair to say?”

“I guess,” Julianna nodded. “Some of them are. And others aren’t. Do you want me to be docile so you can write me as a woman who lives for men and takes whatever she can get? That I settle the way a docile woman should.”

“I was simply making a statement,” Sylvia stood up. “I can write you however you want me to. Do you want to be a docile woman?”

“What do you think I want to be?” Julianna asked. She took a sip of her drink. “Write that.”

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Rizzo,” Sylvia smiled. “My article will be published in next months edition. I’ll send an early copy when it’s finished.”

Julianna didn’t say anything as Sylvia walked out. She finished her drink, setting her glass on the table. Margaret cleared her throat, rubbing her forehead. “Anna.”

“I’m sorry,” Julianna responded, voice quiet. “I just- I don’t want people to think because I have crushes and I love boys and I can talk about kissing for hours that I am soft- I’m not. I can be soft and sweet and kind and the perfect picture of a woman but I cannot be called that all the time.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Margaret murmured. “You have dinner to get to. We’ll talk later.”

“Are you mad?” Julianna asked, watching as she began packing her stuff up.

“No,” Margaret chuckled. “You’re honest. All the damn time. Media shitstorms will be your forte and considering the amount of people that bought your book, they’ll love it.”

Julianna breathed out a sigh, standing up. Margaret handed her her bag. “There’s a car outside for you. I have some loose ends to tie up with the production team.”

“Okay,” Julianna smiled. “Thank you.”

Julianna hooked Gordy onto his leash, grabbing his bed. She adjusted the purse on her shoulder, taking a deep breath.

Julianna was weak, after all. She found herself, clutching Gordy’s leash in white knuckles, listening to Niall sing. His voice echoed down the halls and it gave her an ache in her chest.

The lyrics were so loud. ‘I’m sorry if I say I need you, but I don’t care, I’m not scared of love.’ Julianna felt the first ounce of hope, leaning against the wall, a million miles away from him. She could hear him loud and clear.

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