#because in the end he was still doing everything for everyone else

[bbyseok]

at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!

a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!

content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts

analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.

here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.

with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!

and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.

to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)

it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?

your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.

coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.

because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.

it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.

nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.

well. except for one.

gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.

even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.

his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.

after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.

satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.

“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.

gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.

you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.

that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.

satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.

but you simply smiled up at him.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.

gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.

how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.

gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?

and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.

as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.

and never will.

your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.

and that he doesn’t like you.

it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.

okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.

you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.

besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.

you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.

“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.

“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)

nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”

you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”

nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”

“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.

you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.

“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.

nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.

gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.

you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.

does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.

your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.

his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”

who knows, indeed.

megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.

“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.

the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”

satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.

meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”

“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.

his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.

“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”

megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”

“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”

despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)

your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.

there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.

“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.

as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”

the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”

“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.

you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”

“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.

(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)

you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.

“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”

you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.

a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.

the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)

after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.

“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”

megumi hums.

“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”

his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”

you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.

“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”

“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”

she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?

“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”

you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.

but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”

you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”

she shrugs again. “your call.”

your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”

shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”

oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.

shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.

“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?

as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!

ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.

well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.

“he’s on a mission where??”

you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.

“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.

the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”

you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.

it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)

either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.

you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.

(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)

gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.

while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”

it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.

and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.

“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”

his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”

gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”

your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”

he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”

you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)

“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”

the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).

he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.

“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.

“gojo satoru.”

your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.

against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.

though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.

but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.

like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.

“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.

“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”

“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.

“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.

just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.

“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.

you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”

“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.

you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.

satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.

but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.

when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.

he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.

it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)

“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”

he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)

“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.

he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”

“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”

(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.

it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.

it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”

and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.

“yeah, we are.”

this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.

but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.

and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.

was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.

the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)

fuck.

after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..

it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.

once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”

you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.

“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”

the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”

shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.

but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)

“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.

“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.

he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”

you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”

his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”

you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”

gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.

eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.

“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.

you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”

“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.

(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)

and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.

“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.

“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”

he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”

pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)

“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”

he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.

“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.

before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.

“d’you have a soulmate?”

satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.

and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?

before he can answer, you’re out like a light.

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.

you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.

you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.

gojo.

you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.

after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.

you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.

he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.

you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”

you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.

when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.

he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.

you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)

“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”

satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”

(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)

“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”

you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.

(he does too.)

satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”

“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”

oh.

fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”

“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.

keep saying his name.

“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.

“heh, i guess i am.”

you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.

(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)

you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.

shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.

but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.

he’s wearing his glasses.

you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.

how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-

and then he’s gone.

you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.

he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.

“what the fuck was that?”

shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.

there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.

and you don’t know why.

it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.

satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.

and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.

then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?

however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.

is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?

satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.

“hey, what was that the other day?”

shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.

gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”

shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”

that’s the thing. you just might.

the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”

when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”

satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran last night. just my glasses was too risky.”

what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.

“how long have you-”

“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”

the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.

“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.

satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”

“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)

and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.

ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.

it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.

what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.

a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-

you.

something’s not right.

and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.

fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.

it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.

you’re going to die.

you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.

the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.

your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.

satoru?

you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.

“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”

“satoru, we need to head back.”

he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”

he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.

the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—

“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.

“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.

“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.

“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”

“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.

he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”

you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”

“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,

“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.

then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.

he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.

“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”

“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.

gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily. “please.”

still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.

“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”

your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.

“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”

your confession has him stilling.

(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)

his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-

he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.

his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.

the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.

and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.

he’s kissing you.

he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.

and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.

you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-

suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.

less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.

“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.

“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”

his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.

your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”

“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”

his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,

the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.

as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.

your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.

“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.

you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.

so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.

that’s okay.

cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.

shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”

“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)

he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.

(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)

“‘toru, not here!”

nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”

TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen

+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3

like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x gn!reader #gojo x gender neutral reader #gojo x gn!reader #gojo x you #satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru x you fluff #satoru gojo x reader fluff #satoru gojo x you fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x you fluff #satoru x reader fluff #satoru x you fluff #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru x you angst #satoru gojo x reader angst #satoru gojo x you angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x gn reader #my writing #rain’s writing

[watchmegetobsessed]

SOFT LAUNCH

A/N: luckily i actually wrote this concept for once lol

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: You officially soft launch your relationship.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Your usual barely changed when your relationship with Harry moved from a friendship to a romantic relationship. Well, at least your public usual. 

Because in the privacy of your home or when around you it’s strictly the people you trust, a lot changed. The kisses, the touches, the looks, it’s obvious just how hard you fell in love with each other and your friends often tease the two of you for being great actors for hiding all of these the moment you step out into the public. Very early into your relationship the two of you agreed to keep it as private as possible, so the world didn’t see a single thing of how you eased from being friends into becoming a couple. 

Spotting you out and about together wasn’t a new thing, you’d been friends for a while before you finally took everything down another road, there were plenty of pictures of the two of you grabbing lunch or coffee, hanging out with friends or even attending events. The moment you were spotted for the first time rumors started spreading that you might be an item, but with time they died down and back then, they weren’t true. But what people didn’t see was the shift that happened behind all those simply friendly pictures, how you both fell for each other and your love blossomed steadily and undeniably behind the scenes while everyone else started to accept that you are nothing more than good friends. 

There were photos, still, but what the tabloids didn’t see was the kiss you shared the moment you were behind closed doors. 

It’s been over ten months and you’re definitely over that first phase where all you can see is the pink clouds, no one around you is questioning if this is just a fling, it’s quite clear you are planning your future together. 

There is a downside of keeping your relationship in the shadows however, a kind of freedom is taken away that’s given for everyone else. Date nights have been restricted to your or Harry’s place, if you wanted to go out somewhere you always needed extra people around you so it wouldn’t look romantic. You haven’t been able to go on a vacation, just the two of you, because it would draw suspicion, so it’s been always with others, friends and family. You can’t set your favorite photo of him as your lockscreen, because fans are always quick to spot him in the tiniest details. 

It’s not that you want to post about him day and night, that’s not your style, never was, you like to keep things private, it might be selfishness or consciousness, doesn’t matter. But some days it would be nice to hold his hand as you walk down the street, share a reassuring kiss as you wait in line at the coffee shop or share a photo to your Instagram that features him and only him. 

So it’s been lingering in the back of your head, the thought of being just the tiniest bit more public, allowing yourself to enjoy your love outside of the comfort of your home. 

This is what your mind is racing about as you watch Harry move around the room. The warm Italian sun is peeking through the curtains, calling your name for another wonderful day, exploring Rome. The white, rippled sheets are snaked around your body comfortably, the other half of the bed is still warm from his body. You’re currently residing in a villa that’s hidden enough from curious eyes to let you be yourself even in the backyard, not just inside. 

You mindlessly scroll through your photos from yesterday while Harry is showering and when he appears with a towel wrapped around his hips, hair still damp, water drops running down his chest as he is scratching his jawline and you already know what his question will be. He stops at the end of the bed and opens his mouth, but you’re quicker.

“Do you think I should shave it?” you ask, imitating his voice by lowering yours. He gives you a cheeky look.

“Well, should I?”

“Told you, I love you both ways.”

“Okay, but you surely have a preference,” he pushes.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the pillow, keeping eye contact with him. 

“The stache is… always more than welcomed.”

He chuckles and then walks back in. When he emerges a minute later he is dressed and his facial hair is still the same. 

“Up, up! We have a lot to see today!” He reaches under the covers and easily finds your leg, wrapping his hand around your ankle he tugs on you gently, to which you just grunt at him disapprovingly. 

“Just five more minutes!”

“Come on, don’t you want to explore more?”

“Yeah, but I also want to sleep more.”

“Think of all the pasta and pizza we could be eating right now…” He barely even finishes, you’re already jumping out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom. Harry just chuckles.

A couple of hours later your little group is grazing the streets of Rome again. You haven’t planned anything major for today, just exploring and having a relaxing time. To be honest, your feet are thankful for a slower day, you feel like you’ve walked around the world these past couple of days. 

Sometime after lunch, your group breaks up. Some want to go souvenir shopping, others want to go back to the villa while you and Harry plan to check out a hidden little park you read about online. So now it’s just the two of you strolling down the streets and as you listen to Harry talk, all you can think about is how your hands are hanging by your sides, sometimes even brush against each other, but you can’t hold his. 

When you find a great spot with amazing view of the city you instantly want to take a picture together, one where Harry is hugging you from behind, the panoramic view of the city in the background, you can already see the picture in your mind and you also think of a place in your home where it would look amazing framed. 

But you know you can’t take a photo like that, you can sense how a few girls recognized the two of you, now they are a few feet away, pretending like they are just casually taking videos, but you know they are recording you and Harry, so you can’t risk it. 

Instead, you both just take pictures of each other, staying as friendly as possible. Your phone is still in your hand when the girls come up to Harry at last, starting a chit chat with him and asking for photos that you end up taking of them of course. They thank his time politely and the two of you move on. 

When you’re lying in bed at the end of the day you’re scrolling through your gallery, smiling to yourself at some of the candid pictures you’ve snapped of Harry today. These are your favorite, when he is just being himself and you catch a glimpse of his true essence, keeping it forever in that frame. 

Then you find a photo you took probably accidentally when the girls approached you earlier. You must have snapped it when you were putting away your phone, it features Harry standing on the cobblestone, but only his feet and his tattooed arm is shown, his skin is a warm tanned color from being out in the Sun so much lately, his tattoos look so cool, you always loved the edge they give him. It’s also such a candid picture and for some reason you just love it so much, it’s exactly the kind of photo you’d post on your Instagram story. 

The door to the bedroom opens and Harry walks in with two bottles of water in his hands, he places one to your nightstand before he joins you in bed, opening his. 

“Why are you staring at a photo of my… arm?” he asks with a chuckle, when he sees what you have open on your screen. 

“You have a nice arm,” you grin up at him. “I just… like this photo,” you add with a shrug. 

Harry hums, but doesn’t really get stuck on the topic. He turns his attention to his own phone, sneaking one arm under your head, pulling you closer to cuddle him. But you’re still stuck on the photo and all the feelings and thoughts you’ve been struggling with. 

“H?” you finally lift your head to look at him. 

“Yes baby?”

“Have you ever thought of… being a bit more public? About us?”

He locks his phone and puts it aside to give you his undivided attention. He never fails to make you feel like his number one priority.

“I have, yeah.”

“And what do you think if we just… went for it? What if we just stopped hiding.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I just… I would love to act like a couple more, not just when we’re alone, behind closed doors. I’m not saying we should make out on the street, but… Holding hands, a few tiny kisses, these would be nice.”

Harry stays silent and you grow nervous that he might see it all entirely differently. You know it better than anyone else that Harry values his privacy highly, however he is not the most private public figure either, that’s also fact. 

His gaze finds yours and slowly, you notice a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. 

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m okay with that as well.”

“Really?” You let out a relieved breath as you sit up in surprise. He chuckles.

“Of course. I just wanted to protect you. And I will still be doing that, but if you feel like you’re okay with being a couple for the rest of the world as well, then let’s do that.”

At first you pout at him, touched at how calm and supportive he is about the whole thing, then you just throw yourself at him, kissing him stupid. 

“So then can I soft launch you?” you ask against his lips. 

“What?” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Soft launch. I want to post this picture,” you say holding up your phone again, showing him the photo from earlier, “on my Instagram story. Your face is not shown, but everyone will know it’s you. That’s a soft launch, posting a suspicious but not straight forward picture of your partner.”

“Okay, Miss Urban Dictionary,” he laughs, his hand cupping the back of your head to bring you down for another kiss. 

Cuddling to his side you open Instagram and then put the line ‘LOVE-ly day in Rome’ between his tattoos so it’s not quite what you notice at first, but it definitely catches your attention if you look at the photo for a few more seconds. 

“How do you like it?” you ask, showing him your phone.

“The best soft launch of history,” he teases you before you finally post it. 

Then you watch what happens together. Though you don’t have as many followers as Harry does, a lot of his fans engage with your social media profiles as well, hoping to get some content from you as well. Just a few minutes later the photo starts spreading across the internet of course, it reaches Twitter, Tiktok and other platforms, the reactions are mixed and pretty much all over the place, some aren’t the nicest, but Harry is quick to remind you just how much he loves you. 

When you both put your phones away, shutting the rest of the world out, you’re lying in bed, facing each other, your hands laced together between the two of you. 

“Now it’s out there,” you whisper.

“Softly,” he jokes and you just roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Is hard launch a thing as well?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“Well, it has to feature your pretty face, preferably in a romantic setting.”

“Will we also be doing that?”

“Hmm… maybe.”

“Okay,” he smiles warmly. “But soft or hard, I will always love you.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

[11rosebunny]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 (𝐁𝐎𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍 + 𝐉𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄)

content: f!reader, possessiveness, a hint of gaslighting and manipulation

Haruka Sakura

He tends to push everyone else including you and won't properly communicate his feelings if he feels it's too complicated for others to understand.

It gets extremely frustrating if you're trying to tell him what's wrong, he'll lie and say nothing, shift the topic somewhere else, and worst part is if you keep on trying to ask, he'll somehow make it your fault for worrying even though he's on the brink of falling a part. He still struggles with opening up to others but he can't continue to push away others that deeply care for him.

Hajime Umemiya

Sometimes, he forgets he can not treat everyone the same way, this goes for how he treats women especially. At first he didn't understand how friendly he acted towards girls while dating you was a bad thing, it took him a few days to understand your perspective and put himself in your shoes.

Eventually, he ended up getting a taste of his own medicine when he saw you being friendly towards Hiragi, since that moment, he understood boundaries with other people.

Toma Hiragi

His caring gratitude becomes a little too much to the point where you don't have to lift a finger.

If you simply ask him anything, a drink, to go to a place, to be picked up, or if he just decides to clean up after you, make sure you're okay, and practically do everything for you, he's on it right away.

The only downside is he expects you to stay obedient. If you don't want to do something with him (aside from sexual cases) he starts to tell you about all the different things he's done for you. It's a very well trick that he's not even aware of to make you comply to whatever he says. You can't even argue with him either because he is right about doing so much for you without you having to ask half of the time.

Taiga Tsugeura

He tries to be friends with everyone. At first it isn't a bad thing to keep up a good reputation but it's come to a point where if a person did something weird and rude in the past, he will continue to try to get on their good side.

You had to talk him out of it that a friend to everyone is a friend to nobody.

He still struggles to get rid of that habit of his and is currently doing a good job at it. So good for carrot head!

Mitsuki Kiryu

Everyone knows he's popular with the ladies, and most would think that would be his toxic trait, but in reality, it's his lack of communication. It's not like Sakura, where he'll push everyone away but Kiryu tends to have a hard time keeping up in the social life.

On some days, he's the driest person you'll ever meet but inside he doesn't see anything wrong with it because no matter what he still loves you.

He got confused when you accused him of not loving you, he was baffled because he didn't understand because he was sure as hell he did in fact love you. He's slowly starting to improve, and tried to text and talk more to make you feel happy.

Hayato Suo

He doesn't understand why you'd want to hang out with anyone other than him, this was a back then problem so thankfully, he grew out of it.

Before, since you two grew up together from a very young age, when you started to talk to other people he started to grow bitter, and didn't understand why you'd speak to them and not him. It was a small anger management but he soon grew out of it when he got older thankfully.

Jo Togame

His brave behaviour sometimes turn into the most possessive person on earth. He won't like it if you even go somewhere by yourself, he'll try to keep you in his sight at all times and would even forbid you to do some things, regardless if you really wanted to do it, he does not care and will shut it down with an argument if he has to.

Because of that, his jealousy issues are also quite high, to the point where if he has to make you cry, then so be it.

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreakerxreader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura #haruka sakura x reader #taiga tsugeura #jo togame #mitsuki kiryu #toma hiragi x reader #toma hiragi #mitsuki kiryu x reader #wind breaker manga #hayato suo x reader #hayato suo #taiga tsugeura x reader #tomiyama choji x reader #tomiyama choji #jo togame x reader

[miss-musings]

"You Weren't Loyal To Me": How Crosshair's Brothers Absolutely Failed Him in "The Bad Batch" Season 1

I know I'm not the first person to make these arguments, but after recently rewatching "The Bad Batch" Season 1, I feel compelled to play Devil's Advocate and assert that Crosshair's brothers absolutely failed him in Season 1.

Now, don't mistake me. I don't believe Crosshair was 100% in the right. Once he regained his free will -- whether he actually removed his inhibitor chip, or whether his injury on Bracca deactivated it or lessened its impacts -- he definitely should've left the Empire the first chance he had.

I imagine he was trying to make the best of a bad situation, but I don't see why he would stay with an organization hijacked his mind and ordered him to kill his family, civilians and other people who were trying to do the right thing.

But, I don't think his brothers -- I'm excluding Omega because she's a child and was following everyone else's lead -- are 100% in the right either.

I believe Crosshair's brothers basically abandoned him.

CROSSHAIR'S GREAT INSECURITY?

Now, I understand that they didn't initially plan to abandon Crosshair. But, once they knew he was being mind-controlled and especially once they knew how to undo its effects, they never even considered going back for him.

We never see them debate trying to save Crosshair. They don't discuss whether it's feasible, whether it's worth the risk, how they would even attempt it, etc.

I think this was a much-needed moment that we never get to see. In fact, as others have pointed out, we don't really get much discussion about Crosshair at all.

He's their brother. He's been by their side from infancy through their time as cadets through dozens of missions. Why aren't they more upset about him turning against them? Or being mind-controlled by the Empire?

They seem so blasé about it. Like it's more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, especially by 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." Like "Ope, Crosshair's here. I bet he's gonna try to kill us again."

As I'll discuss more later, Hunter gets captured on Daro, and Omega loses her frickin' mind. Even Echo, Wrecker and Tech seemed distressed too, even if the show didn't focused on their reactions as much.

But, Crosshair's mind and body get hijacked by the Empire, and nobody seems to give a shit.

No wonder why Crosshair felt so betrayed and said everything he does in 1.15 and 1.16. It probably confirmed something he always felt, or always feared:

That he was the odd man out in his squad -- the last to be included and the first to be excluded.

That they never cared about him as much as he cared about them.

Based on experiences in my own life, with friends and coworkers, I do wonder if Crosshair was always insecure about his standing within the group. This makes sense given that he's likely the youngest of the four original brothers, and that as a sniper, he isn't always in the middle of the action like they are. His personality doesn't really help either, but his brothers seem to be able to navigate it just fine in their "The Clone Wars" Season 7 arc.

Maybe this is partly why he seemed OK with Echo joining the squad at the end of TCW arc: because he felt like Echo would become the new 'odd man' considering that he didn't grow up with the Bad Batch and wouldn't know Crosshair's brothers like he does.

It's been a while since I watched TCW Season 7, so maybe I'm wrong.

But, I definitely think this is partly why he resents Omega so much in Season 1:

The Bad Batch -- mainly Hunter -- decided to risk their lives and their freedom to go back to Kamino for Omega. She might've been their "little sister," but they'd known her all of one day and Hunter still decided it was worth going back for her.

Yet they never went back for him.

Hell, as far as we the audience know, they never even considered it.

I'm not saying it would have been easy or risk-free. They also now have Omega in their care, and trying to extract Crosshair from Imperial custody while all parties involved would be trying to kill or capture them isn't an easy undertaking.

But, as I'll talk about more later, these guys do rescue and extraction missions all the time. They put their lives on the line for complete strangers several times in Season 1 to save them from Imperial custody, slavery, etc.

And I'm not saying they were wrong to do those things. It was objectively good that the Bad Batch saved the people they did.

But, I can absolutely understand why Crosshair would be infuriated that his brothers take on all these missions to help complete strangers but never bother to help him...

ANALYZING THE BATCH'S DECISIONS BASED ON THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE

I understand that, before he confronts them in the hangar in 1.01 "Aftermath," that they were planning to go back for him. And that they were forced to leave him behind because he was literally gunning for them. And -- as far as his brothers knew -- he was doing it of his own free will.

However, in 1.02 "Cut and Run," Omega tells them about the inhibitor chips, implying that that's how Crosshair is being controlled.

Then in 1.03 "The Replacements," we see that Tech is building a device to locate their inhibitor chips, and Omega tries to tell the Batch and specifically emphasizes to Hunter that Crosshair has no control over his actions. Hunter admits that he's angry at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega reassures him that they'll get him back someday.

So, it seems like -- at least in Omega's eyes -- the Batch was planning to save Crosshair at some point. And, Hunter at minimum feels guilty for leaving Crosshair on Kamino, even though they didn't really have much of a choice at the time.

However, the Batch gets sidetracked in 1.04 and 1.05. First, they need supplies; then bounty hunters are after Omega; then they need intel on who's after her and why.

Then, by the events of 1.07 "Battle Scars," we see that they've fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. It's safe to assume they've done -- or at least attempted -- a dozen jobs for her at this point, based on Wrecker and Omega's 20 orders of Mantell Mix.

And then Rex shows up and tells them point-blank that the clones can't fight the inhibitor chip's effects, re-emphasizing Omega's earlier point that Crosshair had no control over his actions.

The Batch then experiences this firsthand with Wrecker, whose chip activates before they can extract it. We see that, even with Wrecker fighting the chip's effects with all his might, he endangers his brothers and was *this* close to killing Omega, before Rex stunned him.

Now, we have confirmation based on both Rex and Wrecker's experiences that removing an active chip restores a clone's free will.

Thus, by the end of 1.07 "Battle Scars," the Batch definitively knows:

Crosshair is being controlled by an inhibitor chip and is being forced to do the Empire's bidding;

How to remove an inhibitor chip; and

That removing a clone's active inhibitor chip will restore his free will

And yet, despite all this knowledge, the only effort they make to save Crosshair is to tell him about the inhibitor chip.

They don't attempt or even discuss possibly stunning him on the artillery deck and taking him with them.

But, admittedly, this isn't the best time to attempt a rescue, as they're outnumbered and essentially trapped aboard the Jedi Cruiser. And then Omega gets captured by Cad Bane and Hunter gets shot, and the others are desperately trying to get off Bracca before Crosshair & co. shoot them down. Fine. Getting off Bracca safely and then trying to find Omega should be their priority.

But, once they recover Omega on Bora Vio, and their lives aren't in immediate danger anymore... this would've been the perfect time to at least debate going back for Crosshair.

Again, they have all the information needed at this point.

As for how they find him, well, I'm sure they could get the information somehow. Or they could just cause a stir somewhere so he'd show up to arrest them again, like he did on Bracca.

But, no, they just continue doing jobs for Cid in 1.10-1.13. They don't bring him up at all until they see him on Ryloth in 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth," and again, the tone is like, "Well, Crosshair is here. That's annoying."

If not being able to locate him was the only reason they didn't try to save him after 1.08/1.09, that argument doesn't apply to 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." He's there. They know he's there. They're already there doing an extraction job anyway... why don't they just grab him too???

Yes, there would be additional risks, but YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THE EMPIRE AND FORCED TO DO ITS BIDDING, AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO GIVE A SHIT!!!

Which brings us nicely to:

THE DOUBLE STANDARD

Throughout Season 1, but especially in the latter half, we see The Batch putting themselves in harm's way for complete strangers, or at most, friends-of-friends.

They rescue Muchi the Rancor and other people from enslavers; they extract the former Separatist Senator from Raxus; they extract the Syndullas from Ryloth; they break Gregor out of the Imperial base on Daro.

In the latter three cases, the Batch went to Imperial-occupied planets and an Imperial base, despite all the risks involved. And, especially when they saved Gregor, they had very little information going in and basically just winged the entire thing.

It just feels like, when you look at all these cases, any argument the Batch could make for not saving Crosshair just falls apart.

"We didn't know where he was." He was on Ryloth -- grab him then.

"We didn't have enough information." You didn't on Daro, and you still snuck into a heavily fortified Imperial base to rescue Gregor.

"Everyone there would've been trying to kill us." You literally extract/rescue people from Imperial forces for a living...

"It would've endangered Omega." Well, buddy, have I got a story for you...

You see, when Hunter falls on Daro and gets captured, the Batch still comes to his rescue despite knowing it's a trap AND THEY BRING OMEGA WITH THEM!!!

Every excuse they could've made for not saving Crosshair sooner is gone. The Batch will literally run into a trap for Hunter, and they constantly throw themselves into danger to save Omega, but they never do the same for Crosshair.

It really feels like such a double standard.

They seem to care about everyone BUT him.

Plus, sadly, there's one more parallel I can draw. One more instance where the Bad Batch put themselves in harm's way to save a fellow clone who was being mind-controlled by their enemies in an attempt to kill them...

Echo.

Yes, remember all the way back in TCW Season 7, when we find out that Echo is the one behind the algorithm that's giving the Separatists an advantage in all these battles?

Even though Rex thought Echo was dead, the minute he suspects Echo's still alive, he goes after him. He even punches Crosshair over it, after Crosshair bullies Rex for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel.

One of the "regs" went back for his brother despite knowing his was being mind-controlled by the enemy and forced to attack them.

Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch save Echo from a terrible fate. They extract him from the Separatists, restore his free will and essentially give him his life back.

Yet, when the exact same thing happens to one of their own, the Batch don't even consider going back for Crosshair the way Rex went back for Echo -- hell, the way they went in for Echo too, even though they didn't know him!!

SOME CONSIDERATIONS

I will give the Batch this: once Crosshair confronts them on Kamino and Hunter stuns him, Hunter decides not to leave Crosshair behind this time. And that was even after Crosshair refused to say when he had his chip removed. So, for all they know, he might've been acting of his own free will when he tried to kill them on Bracca.

While taking Crosshair with them at the end of 1.15 was a step in the right direction, I don't think it was enough to make up for everything they failed to do.

And, while he doesn't specify exactly what, Hunter later admits to Crosshair in 3.05 "The Return" that he has regrets too. And considering the context and the timeframe they're talking about, it's possible Hunter regrets not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all, among other mistakes he's made. (Story for another time.)

I'll also give some consideration to Wrecker, who was the only one of the brothers who said he actively missed Crosshair in 1.03 "The Replacements." Tech mentions Crosshair very flippantly a few times, and Echo doesn't really mention him at all.

Obviously, we'll never know for certain, but I do wonder how Crosshair would've reacted if his brothers had rescued him and removed his chip at some point. Would he have stayed with them? Would he have wanted to rejoin the Empire voluntarily?

Considering he (supposedly) had his chip removed and still stayed with the Empire willingly in-universe, it's possible he might've wanted to do the same thing in an AU where his brothers rescued him.

He definitely despised that they were fugitives and "scavenging like rats," while he had authority, respect and purpose as a soldier of the Empire.

But, I think a large component -- although not the only one -- of why he stays with the Empire is that he felt like his brothers abandoned him. He brings this up several times in 1.15 and 1.16, and the way he does indicates this is a major sore spot for him.

We see in 1.01 "Aftermath" that the chip enhancement procedure is painful. He scrunches his face, flexes his hand and squirms around in the chamber. Plus, the machine itself looks similar to the Mind Flayer from other "Star Wars" properties.

Crosshair was literally being tortured by the Empire. Maybe he doesn't recall that once the procedure's done, but we see him getting his chip enhanced in both 1.01 and 1.03, and it's possible it was enhanced even more times off-screen.

I cannot stress enough: the Empire basically took Crosshair prisoner, tortured him and hijacked his free will.

And his brothers essentially did nothing to save him.

It would be one thing if his brothers were civilians like you and me, and didn't know the first thing about how to infiltrate an Imperial compound or how to navigate a firefight despite being outnumbered.

But, that doesn't apply to The Bad Batch. That's literally their bread-and-butter.

And Crosshair -- especially once he seems to regain his free will between the Bracca and Ryloth arcs -- watched his brothers risk their lives to save complete strangers while doing nothing for him.

I would've been livid too.

Not to sound like Tech, but while I don't agree with Crosshair's decision, I can understand why he decided to stay on Kamino rather than go with them at the end of 1.16. His brothers offered him no real comfort and no real apology, and I think he desperately wanted to hear that, especially from Hunter.

I know after everything that's happened -- especially Crosshair refusing to say when he had his chip removed -- that it would've been hard to admit their mistakes. But, Crosshair wanted to hear something beyond: "You can come with us if you want. And if you don't, we don't have to be enemies."

The closest thing to comfort any of them offer is Omega affirming that, despite everything, she still cared about him. This seems to be the only thing that really effects him, that causes him to doubt his decision, that causes him to show any kind of emotion beyond anger.

I legitimately believe that if someone had talked to Crosshair one-on-one for like five minutes, and really showed how much they still cared about him and always did, that he would've rejoined them.

Granted, it's really hard to tell.

Crosshair has, as Tech said, always been severe and unyielding. Plus, he really suffers from this "in for a penny, in for a pound" kind of mindset, which is partly why he stays with the Empire for so long even after regaining his free will.

But the fact that all his brothers leave him on Kamino again so effortlessly, so easily is just tragic. No final goodbye. No hug. No nothing.

For all any of them know, this could be the last time they ever see each other. (And, for Tech and Crosshair, it was.)

I know it wouldn't have been easy after everything that's happened, but for crying out loud, I just wanted them to try.

And I imagine Crosshair did too.

IN CONCLUSION

Honestly, I think the TBB writers and producers purposely never gave us a scene of The Batch debating whether to go after Crosshair, or a scene of them outlining to us the audience why it wasn't possible even though they wanted to.

I think the creative team wanted us to sympathize with Crosshair when he says "You weren't loyal to me," while also arguably giving our protagonists a weakness to overcome later.

This really seems like the case if we look at Season 2.

Once the Batch finds out Crosshair's being detained by the Empire's Advanced Science Division in 2.14 "Tipping Point," they immediately start discussing whether and why they should try to save him, even after everything that happened between them in S1.

On top of that, this time they actually decide to do whatever it takes to get him back, despite limited intel and the imminent danger behind such an undertaking.

I think the Batch genuinely learned from their mistakes in Season 1 and, as Hunter maybe alludes to in 3.05 "The Return," regretted not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all after the Empire started controlling him.

I'll admit: I think when I first watched Season 1, I was basically in the Batch's corner. Crosshair was gunning for them at every opportunity, and Omega's well-being quickly became their priority (understandably so).

But, after rewatching Season 1 -- especially now that the show is over and we see how everyone's arcs play out -- it really hits me just how much Crosshair's brothers failed him in Season 1.

Again, I'm not saying Crosshair didn't make mistakes too. He definitely did.

But Crosshair's brothers failed him first.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #tbb omega #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair tbb #tbb season 1 #tbb season 2 #tbb meta

[arwenadreamer]

Jared is the most loving, caring person!

I've read it a thousand times online, but experiencing it in person puts it on anoher level!

Jared's schedule on Purcon 8 was merciless! (In fact, the whole schedule of Purcon was the one thing I have to criticise regarding this convention. Maybe I'll make another post about this.) For example on Sunday Jared had 15 Minutes of double photo (with Mark), then the J2 panel (30 Minutes) then M&G (30 Minutes) then photos 2,5 hours of photos (which run late, so it was close to three hours in the end), then a single panel (30 Minutes) without a single break. (There would have been a 20 minute break after the 2,5 hours of photos, but again, they were late.) Then he had half an hour break, before autos were from 16.25 to 18.25!

I don't know about US conventions, but at JiB there are more little breaks, and the photos, autos, etc. are in smaller patches. Like, 1 hour photos in the morning, then an hour of autos, then a panel, then photos again.

I don't think I could stand in a photo room and smile for 3 hours straight and give every fan the time of the day and a beautiful photo!

But Jared did! (And so did Jensen, btw.! Neither of them ever showing how tired they were. Or at least trying to hide it the best they could.)

So, @takikojou and I took our Jared photos on sunday. We were in line last, since we had the cheapest entrance tickets, which means Jared had taken pictures for nearly 2,5 hours. When we were in the photo room, we could clearly see how exhausted he was. Between pictures, his eyes drooped. Yet, he gave EVERY. SINGLE. FAN. his full attention. He made those 10 seconds special for everyone of nearly 2000 fans! One girl wanted to do a handholding pose with him and he squatted down (as he always does), but she asked him to stand tall please, which he did. And the whole room laughed. (This kind of good natured laugh.) So did Jared. He picked up the energy and still had fun. Then a man came and asked him to do the WOW fingers. Jared clearly loved that, they made a bit of fun about it. Jared clapped the fan on the back in parting and said "Loved that pose!". @takikojou had an amazing op, but that's her story to tell.

Then it was my turn. I wanted to do a drinking pose. He listened attentively (For some reason we were not allowed to show pictures on the phone of what we wanted, because they said it would take more time? I think it takes more time to explain, but oh well.) Then he did the pose and looked me dead in the eye. For my second photo I asked him to choose the pose. He said "I'll stand behind you", then turned me around and held me withe both arms around my shoulders. And then he pressed with so much strengh, held me sooooooooo tight! I grin like a lunatic on the pic, but who can blame me? I then turned halfway around to say "Thank you", before walking away, and he stroked my arm and said "Thank you, darling!"

The pictures turned out wonderful. And all of that after 2,5 hours of nonstop pictures! Not a single photo he took shows how tired he was!

He came on stage right after photos for his panel and was like "I'm gonna sit, I need that now", falling into the chair right away. Yet, he continued to give us an awesome panel. Seriously, my brain would have been mush by now, yet he gave clever, insightful answers as always and put his full energy into that panel.

We don't deserve that man!

All that goes for Jensen too, btw! But he had a much better schedule with little breaks and rather an hour photos, then something else, then photos again. Which is why I was especially blown away by Jaredˋs dedication. But that doesn't change the fact, that Jensen, too, gives every fan his full attention and makes the most of those 10 seconds and of the panels and everything. They are both amazing like that!

#purcon #purcon 8 #arwenas purcon experiences #Jared Padalecki #Jared Padalecki appreciation

[lifeandlies-of-regulusblack]

Alpha!James x Beta!Regulus x Alpha!Remus Throuple Headcanons

Where we learn the difference between James and Remus as alphas. Regulus is a national treasure, and is the reason why his boys are such satisfied alphas.

Sighs just thinking about beta regulus who struggles to take remus and james' knot :(

beta regulus who goes into false pregnancies whenever the two alpha's ruts coincide and he's so full of cum, his body reacts to accommodate. But beta's have a hard time conceiving and they all know there's no baby.

Still, the sight of Regulus with a bump turns James and Remus on so much, they make sure to give him lots of love.

What about james who doesn't like being left out even when he's not up for anything himself, so he'll just watch remus and regulus fuck in their bedroom? What about regulus who says he's too busy when the two alpha's call him over, only to end up at the foot of the bed, blushing, smelling like lust — asking if it's too late to join because remus and james made the most delicious noises?

James is so territorial about his lovers it's a wonder he's able to have what he has with remus and regulus without losing his mind. Anyone other than remus touching regulus would've ended up in a bloody mess. Anyone other than regulus and him taking care of remus in an aggressive rut would have sent him over a feral rage.

And for all of James' unadulterated alpha behavior and aggression, people never really expect Remus topping when they're together. This dynamic catches James off guard too. Perfect, charming James Potter disappears once he's with his lovers because all that ever was, was a facade. James is loud, needy, and argumentative. An only child raised by indulgent parents with money. The first time James butts heads with Remus, all it takes for James to back off is a command in alpha voice from Remus to sit down and listen. James thrives in protecting the people he loves, always being told, growing up, his words would be followed. He never really expected to follow someone else as an alpha. But Remus, from all the years struggling, who's lived life having to fight to keep everything that's his, his — takes all of James' sharp edges and grinds them down, just enough so he can get a good grip on him.

No one expects calm, timid Remus to have the amount of control he has over James and Regulus. No one expects much from Remus with James and Regulus always the ones setting the path in front of them ablaze. But that's okay, Remus' alpha, doesn't care for other people's opinions on his casual docility. On his unusual lack of aggression or territoriality.

But he certainly has no problem holding a snarling James down, and telling him he'll be knotting him like the good little slut he is. He has no problem telling a snarky Regulus to present himself for James and making sure the beta follows form.

James needs both Remus and Regulus to keep him steady. Regulus and James need each other to enjoy their own burning, hungry flames. But Regulus needs Remus to come get him after so he doesn't get lost in all the mania, he needs Remus to hold the back of his neck and call him back to the surface. Remus needs James and Regulus to feel real. To feel like he exists.

Remus whose alpha presentation never fails to stump everyone because all the primal urges, all the hormonal spikes don't show when it comes to him.

Only for his ruts to reduce him into a beast needing to breed. Prone aggression considered beyond the normal rut behavior. He's susceptible to fast and painful bursting orgasms that keep him hard and looking for a mate to knot.

Regulus, the beta that he is, IS NOT made for the type of alpha remus is. James and Regulus make do, James calls him his omega wife because Regulus more or less knows how to fit around James' length and bulb. They fit right in the good middle of why alpha's tend to look for beta rut mates and why beta's will look for alpha's as well. Beta's are so much tighter that alpha knots feel unreal, the same way alpha's start choking on spit once they get a taste of betas on a rough rut.

But Remus? Remus is the type of alpha that justifies the need for omegas, and is a good example, himself, of why omegas justify an alpha's existence. But remus, so in love, so hungry for Regulus will force a knot too big to fit Regulus' small hole. And he will NOT have anyone else. It's on the tail end of his ruts when his mind starts to clear, that only then, will he consider James to knot.

Moony, the alpha that Remus becomes is wholly and deeply enamoured with Regulus. Only Regulus will do. He's accepting of James' presence as pack, but they learned the hard way what happens when James tries to carry away a fucked out Regulus.

Moony-Remus, a more cognizant, more present version of their alpha will have James and Regulus, especially towards the end where Remus-Moony will dote on James until the rut fully passes over.

Regulus deserves an award for being the best beta EVER. The throuple would sink without him.

The service Regulus does for his alpha's would make any good omega pale in fear. And the boys KNOW IT. They know how lucky they are — that and how much tighter of a hole they get from Regulus 😔. Regulus will never have a future with anyone else because Remus and James are so ready to kill to keep their boywife ✨

#regulus black #moonwater #james potter #remus lupin #jegulus #marauders era abo #marauders era omegaverse #marauders era headcanons #marauders era #moonseeker #wolfbucks #my writing

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 8

Warnings: swearing, angst, references to sex

The compound was tense the week after Cookie left. Tony was still pissed that she was gone and he couldn't get his favorite cookies. On top of that, fixing the Avengers gym was a major undertaking thanks to the holographic projectors that were used for team training simulations. Tony stood and watched as Bucky did most of the clean up before the tech team went in to replace everything he had destroyed.

Everyone was walking on eggshells as they waited for Nick Fury to return from off world. Of course he already knew what happened but was looking forward to bitching out the people who pushed her to leave. He was due sometime this week.

Sharon tried to get close to Bucky but he wanted to wallow by himself. He also shunned Nat who tried to distract him with her Widow seduction techniques. Anytime they were in the same room with Bucky, they were trying to get his attention. They would flirt, wear sexy and revealing outfits, act helpless so they could turn to him to open a jar or reach a higher shelf or something equally dumb. Bucky didn't really see through their efforts like the rest of the team did, he just didn't care what either of them said or did.

One morning Nat slid up to Bucky and started rubbing his arm as he drank his coffee. He looked at the hand on his arm then picked it up and pushed it away from him like it was diseased. Sharon stepped in and tried to get between him and Nat but he rebuffed her as well. It ended in a fight in the common room, both women ended up in medical, Sharon had a broken nose while Nat had cracked ribs and both had various scratches and bruises.

Bucky had just turned away from them and leaned on the counter to finish his coffee, seemingly oblivious to the women fighting right behind him.

Tony had enough and had Friday lock both women in their own rooms until Fury returned and decided what to do with them. He snapped at Bucky "I'm getting really sick of your little harem with their attempts to seduce you and fighting with each other. You need to find a way to convince them you aren't interested."

Bucky shrugged "I don't know what you want me to do, Stark. I don't speak to either of them, except to tell them to leave me alone and I don't do anything to encourage them. I don't want either of them and I keep telling them but they won't stop." He sighed "I just want Cookie."

The morning after Cookie went to the Harlan Thrombey book launch, Bucky was sitting next to Steve, both eating the omelettes Sam made for them, when Nat entered the room "Gee Barnes, looks like your precious Cookie has moved on already."

Bucky sighed and shook his head but didn't say anything.

Nat took that as a sign to keep going "She ended up in the gossip pages, seen leaving a book release party with Boston's most eligible, and notorious, bachelor." She smirked when she heard Bucky's breath catch "Ransom Drysdale has a different debutante, model or actress on his arm every week but this new woman is a mystery." She quoted the article she was reading on her phone. "There's a bunch of pictures of him with other women. Cookie was definitely a step down for this guy."

She snapped at Bucky "Why are you pining for some dumpy little analyst when I'm right here?"

Bucky could feel his control waning he turned and snarled at her "I don't fucking want you! Leave me alone. What the fuck are you doing out of your room?"

Nat shrugged "I have my ways"

Tony skidded to a stop, out of breath "There you are, Romanoff. Do I need to put you in a holding cell? The big guys room? Stop trying to stir up more trouble and leave Barnes alone!"

Nat scoffed "Fine, I'll go." She rubbed her shoulder against Bucky and purred "You know where to find me."

Bucky pulled away from her, then looked over at Tony in shock, he never imagined Tony would stand up for him. He softly spoke "Thank you, Tony."

Tony nodded "I think we need to have Romanoff and Carter checked by medical again."

He looked at Bucky and smirked "You're not hideous but they have a level of obsession with you that doesn't seem natural. I want to be sure they are both completely clear of that serums influence before we even consider putting them back out in the field."

Bucky nodded, thinking "It's interesting that I'm fine and we haven't had any problems with Yelena, maybe she'll know something more about that serum and the 'cure'."

Tony hummed "Well, you have the super soldier juice and they mentioned having to dose you repeatedly but yeah, maybe Yelena can shed some light. Friday, where is Miss Belova?"

"She's in her quarters, boss. She hasn't left since returning from kidnapping Cookie."

Tony nodded at Bucky "I'll let you know if I find anything. If Romanoff bothers you, tell Friday and we'll put her in a holding cell until Fury returns."

After talking to Yelena and consulting with Bruce and Dr Cho, And a trip to Antonia's holding cell, Tony discovered that Antonia had used an updated version of the serum after Yelena released all of the widows. The cure worked but only partially, and it seemed that the orders that Sharon and Natasha had been given were still floating around in their heads, making them act out. Yelena had voluntarily locked herself in her room after all the drama with Antonia, as she took being controlled again very hard and didn't trust herself.

Tony called the team to move Nat and Sharon to holding cells since Nat had escaped her room once but when they went to find the women Sharon was still in her room but Natasha was nowhere to be found.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same morning, outside of Boston...Cookie woke up, closing her eyes as quickly as she opened them. Too bright, the room was all windows. She groaned as she became more aware, she felt some new aches in her body, most noticeably between her legs. She also felt an arm around her waist and that she had no clothing on.

A warm body behind her moaned "Relax. It's early and Sunday." Pulling her closer.

Cookie turned to look at him, in the early morning light and with his messy bedhead, she realized the man looked a lot like Steve Rogers. The thought made her giggle, until he turned her so she was facing him and pulled her close until she felt his morning erection pressed up against her "I know you're not laughing at me, sweetheart." He started kissing down her neck and grinding up against her until they were caught up in each other again.

A few hours later Cookie felt her stomach grumble "Ransom" she whispered with no response "Ransom."

She pushed on his shoulder and he groaned "nooo"

She started tracing down his side until he choked back a laugh and grabbed her hands "What is it, Cookie? I'm tryna sleep here."

"Ransom! I'm hungry so you need to feed me or I need to go home and get some food."

Ransom started pushing up against her "I've got something to feed you, right-"

Cookie elbowed him in the ribs "Really Ransom? What are you, 12? I need some food." She sat up "I should get home, I've got chores to do"

Ransom scoffed "Chores? That's what maids are for."

Cookie got up and found her clothes "Yeah, well not all of us have trust funds so we can afford to hire help."

He sat up and watched as she dressed.

Once she was somewhat respectable looking, for a walk of shame, Cookie turned to Ransom, who had started playing with his phone once she was dressed. After leaning down to give him a kiss she stood to leave "Thanks, Ran, I needed that. It was fun. Maybe I'll see you around."

Ransom looked up "Do you need a ride or something?"

Cookie smiled "No, my uber is almost here, I'm good."

He leered at her "I don't do relationships, baby, but you have my number if you wanna do it again."

She giggled "Yeah, sure. I'm going to wait out front for my car, so I'll see you."

When Cookie arrived home she took a long hot shower and went over her memories of the last 24 hours. She certainly never expected to meet Ransom Drysdale and spend the night with him. His reputation was justified, the man had a wicked tongue and impressive stamina for someone with no enhancements. He definitely satisfied but wasn't someone to get caught up with, as his reputation also warned. She wasn't in Boston to find a new man anyhow, she was getting over one. He didn't compare to Bucky but she tried not to think about him, everything was too confusing and messy.

Cookie sighed, she missed him and the friendship they had before Sharon showed up to ruin everything. Even though she knew it wasn't really Sharon's fault, Cookie couldn't help the anger that tried to bubble up. She pushed it back down as she dried her hair and went downstairs to find something to eat.

Cookie didn't feel up for cooking so settled for a bowl of cereal, sat at the dining room table and picked her phone up only to be hit with dozens of notifications. She felt her stomach drop, apparently Ransom was big gossip and the new unknown woman he left the book launch with was Boston's biggest mystery. Some of her coworkers were asking if it was her while Annie just tagged her with a winky emoji. Maria Hill texted a question mark and 'call me'.

Cookie's head fell into her hands, she knew she wasn't in any trouble but hadn't expected her little fling to get so much outside attention. This was a potential complication that she didn't need. At least she knew Ransom was on the same page and didn't expect anything more from her.

She jumped when her phone rang but was relieved to see it was Sam.

"Hey babygirl, sounds like you're having some fun in Boston. Don't forget us little people while you're hanging with the world famous writer and his family."

Cookie laughed "Please, it was one party. I'm still the nerdy intel analyst you know and love."

"Well I hope so. You didn't hear it from me but Robocop is turning green."

Cookie scoffed "Right, he has them to keep him occupied."

"Yeah, they are fighting over him and he's ignoring them. It's almost entertaining, at least until I had to help pull them apart. I got scratched in the face, those ladies are ruthless."

Cookie laughed "Poor, poor, Sammy. Beat up by those mean ol girls. I'm sorry I'm not there to stitch you up."

"Pffft, wasn't all that. Just annoying." Sam whined "I miss you, when are you coming home?"

Cookie sighed "This is my home for now. I miss you too Sammy but the compound was just too much. You should come here, there's lots of history."

They ended the call with Sam promising to visit when he could get away after Cookie told him she would make his favorite cookies.

After they hung up, Cookie started going through her mail. A plain white envelope with the compound as the return address caught her eye. The simple block writing made her heart race as she realized it was Bucky's writing. It was the first time he'd tried to reach out to her since the night they spent together and she was afraid he was finally rejecting her friendship outright instead of just ignoring her. Being ignored had hurt but there had been some hope, however foolish it might have been, especially after learning that he had been drugged, but if he told her he didn't want her in this letter that would really be it.

Cookie's mind came up with all sorts of awful things he could say and what his words could do to her and she felt a panic attack crawling up her spine. She dropped the letter like it was on fire and backed away without opening it. She wasn't ready to read what Bucky had to say yet and left it on the table as she started her laundry and straightened up her townhouse.

Every time she walked past the table she could see it out of the corner of her eye. It seemed to grow and catch her attention no matter where she went in the house but she just couldn't bring herself to open it yet.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella @hiireadstuff @winterschildren8

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits

[mondsphere]

SVSSS high school AU

[looking out the window with a thoughtful frown]

I was thinking back on my time in high school and…

Did anyone else have a classmate that was obviously Rich and kinda spoiled, but that was So Nice to everyone? Had the mannerisms and vocabulary of a doted-upon heir but the accepting and excited eyes of a sheltered kid seeking friends and companionship? Not necessarily smiling all the time, but was always present and active when interacting with the others?

Shen Yuan. Vice Class President. Beloved by teachers and classmates alike. Always willing to lend you money, and he won’t even ask for it back. Wouldn’t, even if he remembered!

And then the classmate that was subtly bitter about everything and mostly brushed off everyone? Made kinda’ lame jokes but didn’t really seem to care much when no one laughed, cause they wanted the others to let them be? Conspicuously absent from extracurricular activities, really didn’t give much of a shit as long as they got by?

Airplane. Ends up labelled as the class rebel but he doesn’t do anything, so it’s kind of bewildering that that’s his legacy. He is very unaware of his own vibes.

The clearly smart kid who never studies and still gets perfect or almost-perfect marks on everything, but no one really knows anything about them because they’re so reticent? Dislikes attention if it comes from who they perceive to be looking down on them? Any sort of authority figure is, to them, an opponent they must best without letting them know they’re competing at all? Bratty as fuck?

Binghe. Depending on which one we’re talking about, they’re either stupidly popular and elicit jealousy from their peers or admired (and highkey feared) from afar. Is vying for Class President to impress Shen Yuan. They’re a duo! They need to be a united front!

(It would also be very funny to me if Bing-ge was a year older than Bing-mei but got held back a year. The fights? The seething jealousy? Shen Yuan sandwich? Superb.)

Mobei-Jun is the silent, kind of out-of-his-depth but solemn kid everyone gravitates around and it’s astounding to him that these people are so invested in his opinion. Leave him alone. He does not want to bear witness to any of your pathetic attempts at flattering him! It’s so clearly fake. Very pretentious and doesn’t even realise it. Parents are Stupid Wealthy.

The class president is obviously Yue Qingyuan. Luo Binghe will win, though. It’s just a matter of time.

Liu Qingge is on some sports team, probably captain. Luo Binghe will win against him, too.

(Shen Yuan once mentioned that Liu Qingge’s muscles are very manly and now it’s on sight. This is the only thing the Luo brothers agree on. Neither are happy about it.)

God. Imagine them on a school trip. The poor chaperones.

#svsss #svsss au #shen yuan #luo binghe #airplane #mobei jun #yue qingyuan #liu qingge #bingqiu #bingyuan #high school aus are to me very funny and nostalgic #it goes without saying that shen jiu is a teacher and shen yuans brother #this is the only teacher shen yuan refuses to smile at. its for the principle #also. hhpm or tlj as the principal? god. god poor binghes #no one asked but i was a mix between airplane and bingge #it is Not Surprising #au.txt

[lyrenminth]

JB9 request

They are divorced and have two children together, and he is jealous that she is leaving the kids at his house so she can go on a date. but the meeting was horrible, because the guy is not like Joe

This was a very specific and I had so much fun writing in. A little bit of angst at the end.

What we used to be

The decision for filing the divorce was consciously taken. It was done three years ago, while you went to a rough patch in your marriage. The decision wasn't easy, because you share two children together, and for them was equally hard to understand why mommy and daddy weren't together anymore.

One of the main reasons was after having children, you marriage went cold and dead. He was busy playing football and you were busy mothering a three years old and a nine months old. You didn't have the time to be a couple anymore.

Currently, you decided to start dating again after your friends prompted you to do so. It was difficult because you had to coordinate with Joe (now that you were co-parenting). And of course, was during the off-season because during his seasons you had the kids most of the time. On weekends you dropped the children with Robin so she would take them to the home game. It was a messy life, because you shared a lot of things as a result of the years together. Trying to get rid of Joe was impossible having children with his face and living in Cincinnati. So you made peace with that fact long ago. You got along for the children, he was kind and always asked for your opinion when included the family. And you were polite with him, but nothing else.

You send him a text. "Hey, I'm dropping the kids early this Friday. That's ok?"

Joey B: Yeah, that's ok. Are you busy on Friday?

You: Yeah, something came up. Your home or your parents'?

Joey B: My house. Everything alright?

You: everything alright

That was the last text. After that you waited earnestly for your date. You met John through friends, he seemed like a good guy. By looks, the completely opposite of Joe. John had one child already, and worked for a big company in New York but was living in Cincinnati two years now.

You thought it would be difficult if men knew who was your ex-husband because it had happened one time and it ruin the mood for everyone. Apparently, you completely fucked up or whatever. Well, John didn't know anything about football, he couldn't care less about the Superbowl and that was a pleasant surprise.

So on Friday, you drive Mackenzie and Julian to their dad's house. They were behaving well during all morning. And since it was off-season they could spent the weekend with Joe.

You parked the car, and for your surprise Joe was waiting for them outside.

"Dad!" yelled Julian, running towards Joe who was wearing pants and a hoodie. "Mom, can you help me with my backpack?" asked Mackenzie trying to open the door. You got out of the car, and help her. She made cookies for her dad, and was so happy to share.

You help her to carry the backpack until you were face to face with Joe, who was looking handsome as always.

"Daddy, I made cookies!"

"Daddy, can we play videogames?"

The children demanded attention equally, but Joe was still staring at you. Hard.

"Have I something on my face?" you asked, almost aggressively. You put some make up on and dressed in a nice dress for the occasion.

"No, you fine" he cleared his throat "Not your usual fit"

"Mommy is going on a date" Julian shout, excited. Joe's eyebrows raised, you laughed nervous.

"Well, kids behave well. Enjoy the cookies" you said trying not to look at your ex-husband. "Is that true?" he asked, he sounded kinda jealous. Maybe you were overthinking.

"Well, yes" not wanting to discuss anything further in front of the kids "Take care, Joey"

"Please, call me if you need something" he said, "Let me know you're safe"

Your heart flipped. Why he did those things before your date? Weird. You nodded, going back to the car.

John was a nice man. You were sure he was nice, just...not to you. After thirty minutes in the date he kept talking about himself and his work that you thought you were watching a TED talk. He was good looking, but soon you realize you didn't have anything in common by what he was saying. Your mind wandered to your first date with Joe, it was in a bowling alley. Things got competitive and you spent a really good time together that you hook up in your car after the date. Would you hook up with John? Nah.

"Do you need another drink?" John's voice brought you back from your wild thoughts.

"No, thank you"

"So, you told me your ex-husband was a football player, right?"

"Yes" you said cautiously "He still plays"

"And how do you get along?"

"We talked only for the kids"

"Ummm, sure" he dismissed your answer. You raised your eyebrows, astonished. "What do you mean?" you wondered.

"Nothing. I didn't tell you about this trip I'm going to make next month..." he started talking again.

Joe bought you drinks too. You loved his smile back then. Julian had the same smile actually. After getting married you had very nice dates too, but you loved to spend time at home watching movies and resolving puzzles.

The date went on, and you have to excuse yourself or would die of boredom. After the date you missed your children so much, but it was Joe's time with them. So you went to your house and waited.

On Sunday evening, you went to pick up the kids. After a couple of minutes, Joe appeared wearing shorts and a compression shirt. He looked really handsome, his sandy hair was messy, he looked younger somehow.

"Hey" you said, nervous.

"The kids are in the pool" he explained "Come in while I prepare them"

"Oh, no. I can wait in the car" you replied, pointing at your car. He looked up-and-down, and pressed his lips. You blushed like a teenager "I bet they want to see you"

"Okay" you whispered, follow him inside the house. "How was your date?" the question made you flinch. You didn't remember John at all. "Umm, it was good"

I was bored as hell, and thinking about you. How pathetic.

Silence. By the way he was looking at you, he didn't believe you either. You reach the chicken and he offered something to drink and you decline. "Are you going to the OTAs early this year?" you wondered, hearing music and the children screams outside.

"No, I'm going to spend time with the kids" you nodded, pleased. Joe was a great father, you never doubted that.

You lock eyes, and your stomach made weird things. His eyes softened, and he got closer to you.

"Y/N can we talk about us?" he requested.

"What?" you were in panic mode "About what?"

"The divorce. I thought were struggling but I never listen to you" he said, seriously "Until you fill in the papers" Your heart sank. His lips were still pressed, the wrinkles on his forehead let you know he was stressed too. "I feel like we never had the time to stop and think what we're doing" he said softly.

The bump in your throat didn't let you speak properly. You tried anyway. "I try to speak to you, Joey. I tried to do many things to save our marriage. It didn't work, you were focused on football, and I felt utterly alone" you wipe a treacherous tear "We weren't a couple anymore. I didn't have a partner"

"Mommy! Daddy!" Julian got into the house all wet and hugged you. "Do you want to see how I jump into de pool?"

"Julian, mommy is here to pick you up" Joe explained "Go and tell your sister" Julian nodded and went happily to his sister. Joe attention was on you again. "We should speak about this with more time"

"Why? Are you trying to marry me again?" you joked frustrated he wasn't listening again. "Yes, I never wanted a divorce" he replied ardently. The confession hit you. "Then, why did you fill the divorce?"

"Because I was scared..." the footsteps didn't let him finish "I'll send you a message, please"

You left Joe's house confused and heartbroken. Even though, you couldn't avoid the hope growing in your chest.

Let me know if you want a second part. I think it would be cool.

#joe burrow #nfl #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #fanfiction

[gachagon]

This is actually a pretty big deal.

Not just because Kaiser has passed to someone else, not even because he said "please" and learned humility, but because Kaiser is finally engaging with the rest of the team and has stopped isolating himself. And we KNOW Kaiser has trouble doing that, Kaiser can't even sit at lunch with other players without lashing out at them for being friendly to him, unkindness and cruelty are all he knows and the only form of "camaraderie" that he allows is absolute obedience and submission.

So for him to pass to Raichi Jingo...of ALL people for an assist is bonkers, because he is allowing himself to finally be human. Kaiser thought he was becoming human until this game when he realized he actually was limiting himself, and that by isolating himself to such a degree he had become less of an "untouchable king" and more of a loner coward who only picks fights he can finish.

Oh and I just know this is having disastrous effects on Ness' mental health (you can literally see it in his eyes good lord) but you have no idea how much this means to Kaiser.

Kaiser has found the answer he's always been seeking for, and he's playing differently now because he finally gets it now. And he's so right in that the only reason he was able to get there in the first place is because of Isagi knocking some sense into him. I know we all have been saying that Isagi and Kaiser are like foils and mirrors to one another, and this chapter is Kaiser finally seeing the reflection for like the first time since he's met Isagi.

And that's huge because they can finally get somewhere together now and finally work towards the common goal they have, and Kaiser has found a new ego to bolster that's healthier for him. This is a prime opportunity for him to grow and change as a person, not just a player!

And I LOVE this because it still fits with the idea that Kaiser has achieved the impossible even if it's not what people were expecting. If you had told Raichi or Isagi last arc that in the NEXT game Micheal Kaiser will learn what humility is and willingly help Isagi with scoring, they'd both probably laugh at you and say "That's impossible". And yet here we are.

Kaiser was afraid of losing everything he had up until that very point just last chapter, and now he has thrown everything to the dogs because he knows that it won't matter in the end. He's admitted the truth to himself and is now playing in a way that actually benefits everyone.

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock manga #isagi yoichi #kaisagi #micheal kaiser #blue lock spoilers

[penkura]

knowing [7/8]

Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.

Note: The end is near!! Wano my beloved, I love Sanji in Wano sm. Another shorter one, compared to six and eight, but we're in the home stretch!! Next chapter is the finale and I hope it will be worth it!

Taglist:

@jzkeisuke | @arcanumlaw

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

Your arrival in Wano started with all of you separated from Luffy, navigating your way through a forested area, hoping to find a town. Sanji kept a hold of your hand the whole time, refusing to let you wander off or get left behind somehow. Of course you weren't like Zoro with your sense of direction, Sanji just wanted to be sure you didn't get separated from the group (mostly from him).

Once you did find Luffy, Kin'emon got you all up to speed on what they had been doing. You were to help recruit more Samurai and ninja for the raid on Onigashima in about two weeks. You'd have to take on a role in the city to keep a low profile, while passing out the cards with the insignia that Kin'emon had put together. He provided disguises with his technique, Nami's being a lot more showy than she liked so she had to adjust it, but you were quick to try and reject whatever he tried to dress you in.

"No no, I think I'm fine with what I'm wearing. I'm a kunoichi already."

"While yes you are, it would be better if you could take on another role for the time being!"

"Then she'll stay with me!" Sanji nodded, putting his arms around your shoulders, Franky and Usopp both still confused since you hadn't had the chance to tell them yet, "We could pretend we're married and running a stall together!"

"Hey Sanji," Usopp was a bit concerned, but did take note of how you didn't push Sanji off or anything, "Maybe she wants to go help Nami or we could see if she can help Franky get the mansion plans. There's no need for you guys to pretend you're a couple!"

"We won't be pretending we're a couple! Just that we're married! We're already together so it doesn't matter!"

"...wait what?"

Realizing what he said, Sanji blushed a bit before hiding his face in your shoulder, making you pat him on his head. You found it funny how he seemed to become so shy about it, maybe because you two hadn't gotten to actually sit and tell Usopp and Franky.

"Poor, poor boyfriend. I don't mind pretending we're married and helping Sanji."

"B…boyfriend?!"

"Yes, Sanji and I are dating."

Franky and Usopp both shouted at you, asking when that happened and being surprised when you said it'd been about two years. Telling you it was 'super' you were together, Franky started crying while Usopp couldn't believe how you kept such a secret for so long, asking who else knew.

"Everyone. You guys were the last two we had to tell."

"Whaaaat??"

+!+

After everything had been settled and you allowed Kin'emon to give you a disguise that let you blend in like a regular Wano housewife, you helped Sanji and Usopp figure out what kind of food stall Sanji would run. The lone soba stand caught your attention, and you noticed Sanji was watching them carefully, which caused you to say his name and get him out of his thoughts. He'd been watching closely after a young girl and her mother had gone up and gotten bowls themselves.

"Hey, do me a favor. Go get in line and get a bowl of that soba."

"Uh, ok, babe, I can do that."

You stood in line for a while, Sanji and Usopp off to the side talking while you waited, until the stand owners stopped taking orders just before you got up to the front. When you went back over to them, you latched back onto Sanji's arm and apologized that you couldn't get a bowl but he gave you a smile.

"Nah, don't worry. I got the information I needed, thank you."

Confused, you still smiled back and nodded, the three of you returning to where you'd be staying during your time in Wano. You'd all had dinner, thanks to Sanji of course, before turning in for the night, and you absolutely refused to go with anyone but Sanji. Might as well really play the part of husband and wife, was your excuse when Nami said you should go with her, Shinobu, and Carrot. She rolled her eyes at you and just said not to go making any babies or anything, causing you to turn bright, bright red and threaten to revoke her honorary kunoichi status while she laughed at you.

"You could've gone with the girls, it would've been fine."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around Sanji while he did the same to you, pulling you even closer to himself.

"I'd much rather stay with you~"

His turned bright red, no matter how many times you share a bed, it still made Sanji so nervous. He still didn’t believe that you were real, that you loved him and wanted him, he’d never had anyone return his feelings and affections before you. Maybe it was crazy, to think so much about marrying you already, when you were technically his first and only girlfriend, but it seemed like you had the same thoughts, especially after the whole fiasco with his family and the Big Mom pirates.

He didn’t want to ever put you through emotional distress like that again.

“Hey, uh—”

Sanji tried to say something, but instead, he heard you snoring already, very lightly. It made him breathe in relief, with a smile on his face. You really helped him out that day with getting his soba stand ready, you must’ve been so wiped out.

“Sleep well, mon amour.”

I’ll ask you another day.

+!+

With the raid on Onigashima just days away, you and Sanji had found less time to spend with each other during waking hours. You’ve all moved elsewhere to prepare for the raid, Kin’emon and the other Samurai helping you where they could as they prepared too. Shinobu and Raizo had taken a liking to you since you were a kunoichi yourself, both being surprised but impressed to hear you were from an offshoot of Wano, asking how the village was doing and making plans to go there once Wano’s borders were opened.

Two nights before the raid, Sanji finally worked out some time for the two of you to spend and relax, he made a dinner for just the two of you, that Luffy tried multiple times to sneak a bite from until Nami pulled him away and gave him the dinner Sanji made for all of them. The last time Nami had to drag him away made you laugh, while Sanji just rolled his eyes.

“Bottomless pit, that’s what he is.”

“We’ve known that for two years now.”

You giggled, leaning into Sanji’s arm with your head on his shoulder, causing him to kiss the top of your head before you sighed happily.

“I’m glad to have this time with you…everything’s going to be insane day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah…but it’ll be okay. We’ll free this place and then be on our way again.”

“I know, it’s just…getting there is going to be a lot.”

Sanji knew you were probably worried about him, honestly about everyone, but he was the only one you were expressing those worries to. He wanted you to be relaxed and to know that everything would be perfectly fine. Robin had talked to him about how you were seeming more worried as time went on, as the raid got closer, and he got an idea of how to maybe calm you down, but it might also make you even more worried, he wasn’t sure of what to do.

Do I ask her now…? Is this a weird time to propose?

Before he even had a chance to say anything, the two of you were being called by Usopp for something about the raid, making you sigh with a slightly sad smile on your face before looking at Sanji.

“Duty calls. But,” you stopped and kissed him before getting up to go see what was going on, both of you smiling after, “This was lovely, Sanji, you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“Stop, I’m just taking care of my beautiful girlfriend…we’ll do this again, okay?”

“Of course. I love you, Sanji~”

“I love you too, my dear.”

Later. I’ll ask her later, once everything is settled here.

+!+

"No I…I didn't do anything!"

"You're the only one who could have!"

The geishas threw things at Sanji to get him out of the room, it barely phased him as he did so, wondering what on earth just happened. He had no idea! He'd been running off from Queen and the other Animal Pirates to get his thoughts in order over the oddities he'd noticed about himself recently, so lost in thought he didn't have any clue what caused this one geisha to go flying.

Though, his greatest fear now was that he had caused her to become hurt. Maybe it really was the only thing that made sense. Was he losing himself to that Germa science raid suit?

"Let me see that Germa science, Judge's son!"

Queen kept up his attempts to rile Sanji in order to see the raid suit technology, which Sanji kept denying. This time he was still so lost in thought, wondering what you, over anyone else, would have thought seeing what just happened.

Or worse…what if I hurt [Y/N] next time?

If he hurt you because of those genetic abilities, Sanji would never forgive himself. He'd never forgive his father or Germa for anything anyway, but should their science cause him to harm the most important person in his life, all that blame would fall on his own shoulders. He'd only meant to test the raid suit, not become dependent upon it or let it awaken the monstrous abilities his brothers had from the start. He never thought that would be possible after Reiju explained why he was so different from the rest of them.

Tell me, Luffy….which would you prefer? The regular flesh-and-blood me who turns into a helpless wreck when facing a woman, or a cruel emotionless warrior of science who can kill without discrimination if you give the order? Which of these would be more useful to you, as king of the pirates?

Despite his thoughts wondering if Luffy would somehow be better served by Germa's science, Sanji's thoughts also drifted to you as he retrieved the raid suit from his pocket. Which version would you prefer? Someone willing to kill anyone without qualms if so directed, or would you still prefer the emotional mess of a man that doted on you and had your respect for sticking to his principles of not fighting a woman?

"I've made up my mind."

"Ooh," Queen's excitement over seeing the raid suit was quite obvious, "is that your raid suit?!"

"I have to assume that this thing caused the science already in my body to awaken and activate somehow," Sanji dropped the raid suit to the ground, lifting his foot while Queen watched him stomp on the canister, "Well, I can't do anything about that! But I can say no more! I won't become a Germa soldier!"

"Aww what a waste!! I wanted to see you transform!"

Pulling out a baby transponder snail, calling Zoro and letting him argue with him briefly about his reasoning for slipping it into his band, Sanji hated making such a request of Zoro of all people.

"We're gonna win this but…after the finisher if I'm not…in my right mind, I need you to kill me."

"All right, fine! I'll kill you after this is over, whatever that means!"

"And I…need you to tell [Y/N]--"

"I'm not saying anything sappy!"

There was no time to argue or fight, so Sanji just nodded. He figured it'd be a long shot anyway.

"At least I'll have something to look forward to after this. So don't die until then!"

"Thanks."

"Hey," they were short on time, but Zoro decided he'd say one more thing, "I'll tell her."

"Appreciate it."

+!+

"Oh my gosh, Sanji, what happened?!"

You had finished helping Usopp and Nami get Otama somewhere safe, and returned back into the castle to search for anyone else that needed help or to find the rest of your comrades. After finding most everyone, though you had no idea where Zoro was really and knew Luffy was on the roof, you ended up finding a room with some geishas who were tending to Sanji's injuries. You were instantly on your knees beside him asking the geisha girl next to him what happened.

"He…he fought and defeated Master Queen!! He protected me after we accused him of attacking me!"

You might have to ask him about that last bit later, but you were so relieved to hear Sanji was all right, he was just injured but was being treated by the geishas.

Of course you protected her, you sweet man..

Leaning over, you gently kissed his forehead which surprised the geisha girl, Osome, you'd later learn.

"You're so amazing. I love you, Sanji."

"O-Oh, are you two…?"

You smiled at Osome with a nod. "Yes! He's the love of my life! Thank you for taking care of him!"

"I-It's the least I could do after he saved Chuji!"

The little mouse squeaked and made you smile softly. Osome explained everything to you, while you stayed by Sanji for the moment, brushing his hair back out of his face and holding his hand. After you heard the whole story, knowing Sanji wasn't at fault for Osome being hurt and that he'd beaten Queen, you stood up when you heard some shouting about the fire.

"Can you stay with him for me? I'm going to go help some others!"

"Y-Yes!"

"Thank you!"

You ran out of the room, promising yourself and Sanji that you two would get some time alone again soon, and you'd tell him how proud you were of him.

Soon, I swear.

#one piece x reader #reader insert #sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #knowing fanfic #fem!reader #black leg sanji x reader

[d1stract-and-daydream]

0 Days Since [Part 2] (Simon Riley x Reader)

Part 1

WC: 1.8k

Warning: Self-harm, angst, slight miscommunication

Reader overheard something that sets them spiralling.

"I wonder if it's truly worth it sometimes; the damn trouble of loving someone so fucking much that their pain cuts through you just as deep."

Soap reached for a firm squeeze on Ghost's shoulders; a reassurance, a silent understanding. 

"That, you have to decide for yourself, L.t."

He had decided that long ago. That he'll nudge you little by little out of your hole, cheer you up in his own gruff way for the little accomplishments—even as his body burned from the fire your resistance was determined to keep him out. 

A routine. Some tough love. It started as a concerned lieutenant wanting to help their sergeant from their own self-destruction. 

One morning he came to you and asked you to run with him—telling you that your stamina isn't  as good as everyone else's—and it just bloomed from there. 

It snuck up to him so unexpectedly; the affection, the want; that he was heaving at the end of one of your many running sessions with your hands on his back, as worried for him as he was for you before.

And then you told him that you liked him. And he told you that this could not happen.

But he sought you out anyway. "You're not getting off of our run just because I rejected you."

He found that he didn't like the distance you'd put in between you both. You said it's for your own good, because heartbreak was not something you could afford to be going through right then. Which was about the time that he found out you engaged in more self-destructive mechanisms than the drinking and smoking.

He couldn't stand it; you pushing him away further from your life when he wanted to know how you were doing, what you were up to. It was the frustration that made him confess.

"Fine! You fucking win, are you happy? I want to know how you are because I fucking care about you."

"I know you do-"

"No, you don't."

Somehow, you could read just what his eyes were saying.

"Lieutenant, I-"

"It's Simon. You call me Simon and I'm yours. And you tell me every single fucking thing that has you crying and hurting yourself, and you promise me you won't be doing that last part anymore."

It's worth it. Everything he'd done, he'd do all over again. Even if seeing you at your worst was part of it. Because one day, you'd finally see yourself how he sees you; hard headed, strong-willed, every bit as beautiful.

He strode to your quarters, body subconsciously bringing him to your door whenever his mind found its way to you, and saw that your door was unlocked. 

This morning, you look like you were finally starting to wash away the thick sludge of guilt and remorse that's chaining you to your bed, and he wanted to bring you out for a lap around the base. Just a walk. Just so your body knows that it's still pumping blood, your heart still beating.

He decided to open the door after a light knock. 

Your form, hunched away from him on the bed, a silhouette that stirred the uneasiness in the pits of his stomach. A ruined cupcake to the left, blue icing staining your covers.

"Love?"

You tensed. A sniffle. You've been crying.

Slow, gentle steps; him not wanting to startle you. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

And then, a glint of metal. Freshly bloodied, the sight cutting deep into his heart. 

No , he thought, you were doing so, so well.

He didn't mention the relapse, didn't look at you like it was your fault, his mind scrambling to search for a reason for this to happen. His hands reach out to cover yours; the one holding the razor. As if taking a gun gently from someone threatening to hurt someone else—or just themselves.

"Talk to me, tell me what's wrong."

"It's my one year anniversary." You look at your arms. "Well, almost."

One year. Grueling, he's sure. But something to be proud of, right? What went wrong?

He rubbed a hand on your back, sensed you pulling away just a fraction. A fraction too much. He did something wrong. It was him, somehow, that made you relapsed, and he knew this because you weren't staring at him from the moment he'd entered your room.

"Love, did I do something wrong?"

Your shoulder slumped. He took that as a yes.

He moved with urgency, kneeling in front of you to look up into your face—with no care that his trousers were now stained by your blood. That, he could wash later. This? Untreated, it would spread. Take you with it, after all the hard work you'd done to heal.

"You have to tell me so I can fix it, sweetheart. I can't do anything if you don't say anything."

"You can't fix me. I'm not- I'm not worth your effort, Ghost."

Sometimes I think to myself if it's all worth it.

You'd hear but a snippet of what he'd said, and ran with it. Looking for a reason to confirm to yourself that you weren't enough. He hated that you think that way.

"Did you overheard me earlier, love? While I was with Johnny?"

At least you cared enough to nod.

"Listen. You misheard me, soldier. What I was talking about was  not about your worth. It's- how do I explain this-"

He wasn't one to talk this much, especially when it comes to such things as feelings. But, if it'll help you, then God help him, he'll exhaust his words for the year just to let you know how fucking wrong your perceptions of yourself are.

"-it's about love. And pain. If one can exist without the other."

At this, you finally reciprocated his stare.

"You're in pain?"

He chuckled. Trust you to ask about his well-being while he's worried to death about yours.

"Not much more than usual. I was telling Johnny how it hurts me to see you spiral. Every relapse, every self-loathing comment. It hurts me as much as it hurts you, love."

He stood up. Headed to your dresser.

"Stay there, I'll clean you up."

He pulled a brown bandana from the top drawer and wet the fabric with the water from an unopened bottle set on top of your nightstand.

"If it hurts, why bother even staying?"

Gently, his hands worked on patting and wiping off the dried blood from your arms. The first aid kit already by his side, easily obtained.

"Because seeing you happy makes it all worth it. That you'd eventually heal, and be able to see the world like you did before—I would take helping you through millions of nights like these just so I can see you smile again one day. And mean it."

There was a time for tough love. There were times for coddling. Right now, he had no idea what you wanted, which way he should push to lift you up from your episode. So he settled for just being there; his default. Trusted you to tell him should you need anything. After all, you and him did try to be better at communicating.

"I have to start all over again."

It must've been disheartening, watching one's progress go down the drain like that. He didn't want this minor shortcoming to wrench you off your path to recovery, so he hoped his presence, his words—however little—would help.

"Recovery is not a linear thing, love. You get sidetracked. Thrown off. What matters is you go back to your path after that and continue on. Your effort before was not wasted because of this."

"It wasn't?"

His eyes soft as he looked up at you, trying to dab antiseptic on your cuts as gently as he can while he played mentor. 

"No. It's like muscle memory; you already have the skills to do it. All you have to do now is continue with the practice. I'll help you, see?"

A bandage, two, plastered on your freshly medicated cuts.

"If you forgot, I'll remind you again. You're worthy. You're needed. You're going to be okay. I love you. Over and over, until your brain accepts that as normal."

Three bandages. Four. There were more than he expected.

"I don't want you exhausted."

His thumb caressed the tear stains from your cheek.

"Do you get tired, helping me through my flashbacks, my nightmares?"

 You shook your head. He knew what your answer would be, asked it anyway to make his point. You loved him just as much. Had helped him through harder moments.

"Then why do you think I'd be tired of you? I'm a fucking soldier. Been through wars. Hell of battles. A partner in need is the least of my worries."

"I guess-"

"No guess. Be sure. What is it that made you doubt me?"

Your eyes widened, hands shooting up towards the sides of his face to hold him, pull him close. He leaned further into you.

"I don't doubt you. I doubt myself. I always thought you were with me out of pity."

He snorted. Pull your head down to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"I don't do pity. Not like this. I don't make it my mission to help someone through something unless I really fucking like them. "

It was honestly insulting how little you thought of yourself and of his impression of you. Scarcely had he kissed the mouth of a bottle as soon as you started dating, wanting to be a good example that it could be done. The cigarettes he'd bought months ago, untouched in the pocket of his coat. You both agreed to this; to discard the harmful coping mechanisms for better ones.

He never fucking cared how bad the substance was to his physique. But as soon as you mention wanting to be each other's accountability partner, he quit everything cold-turkey, like an idiot. 

There's no one else he would rather go through withdrawals with.

"I fucking like you. I love you. You don't get to assume how I feel about you, darling."

Your gaze slid to your side. Reaching for the smashed cupcake, pout evident on your face— but not from being upset—you carried the treat gently into the palms of your hands like you were holding a baby bird.

"This was supposed to be for you. As thanks."

"Has it been on the floor?"

You shook your head.

"Just a little rough handling. And my bed."

He leaned down to take a bite of it. Have you wipe the blue off his lips with your thumb, the smell of antiseptic piercing his nose.

"I love you too, Simon. Let's start again."

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #fanfic #call of duty #simon riley x you

[bqstqnbruin]

Forget About Us

Hello this is my first fic in like almost 6 months inspired by Forget About Us by Perrie Edwards

Thanks to my loves @nicohischier @assmanselke and @matthewtkachuk for yelling at me and letting me yell about this fic :)

Summary: Carson meets Jack, Jack falls for Carson, Carson does what she wants.

Word count: 7.4k

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, aNGST

Flashbacks are in italics. Also, I swear I read through this more than once but there might be errors unintentionally 😬

_________________________________________

Looking up into the stands, every game he plays in this city, he’s looking for her. He had been doing it for the past few years, always expecting to see her.

___________________________

“Can you stop pouting? We’re going to go out after the game,” Morgan begs. 

“I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to be here or anywhere else besides my bed.” 

Morgan rolls her eyes, sitting down in her seat. “Carson, you never go out.”

“Because I never want to go out,” she repeats. “I don’t have the money to go out.” 

“The tickets were free from my job and I told you I would pay for your drinks tonight.” 

“I don’t feel good,” Carson whines, knowing that it still wouldn’t be enough. 

“You’re fine.”

“I’m on my period.”

“So am I, what’s your point?”

“Your period doesn’t make you double over in pain for three days.”

“This is the fourth day of your period when you have told me you always feel fine. And your period has been regular since you were fifteen when you went on birth control.”

“I don’t like that you know that.”

“Then maybe don’t tell me the same thing like a broken record every month?” Carson continues to pout, even though her friend is right. “Do you really not want to be here? We can leave after the first period if you really aren’t having fun. But, you do keep telling me you’ve been wanting to come to a game since we moved here.”

“No,” she drags out. “I just had a bad day at work.”

“What happened?”

The teams start coming out onto the ice for warm-ups, everyone booing the away team. It made no sense. They weren’t even actual rivals. The other team, from Carson’s understanding, was so inconsequential that they shouldn’t even matter. But who was she to argue? 

“Anthony came by work today.” 

“Anthony? Like Anthony, your ex, Anthony?”

“No, Anthony Michael Hall from The Breakfast Club.”

“What did he say?”

She and Morgan had this same conversation every week. “He wants to get back together.”

“And you told him, ‘no,’ right?”

“I’m grumpy, not stupid.” 

Morgan sighs. Anthony kept showing up at the cafe Carson worked at between classes to ask for her back for the last month. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that they wanted wildly different things in their lives and that they weren’t going to work. Carson wanted to get her JD and leave New Jersey for good. She was tired of the debate over whether or not the central part of the state existed, if it was called Taylor Ham or Pork Roll, and which beach down the shore was the best. She wanted out as soon as possible, and Anthony wanted to stay here and settle down. He wanted someone who wanted to be at home with the kids, which Carson really didn’t want. The only way she could think about staying in New Jersey was if her partner wanted everything else she wanted. Whoever she ended up with had to be everything else to her. Anthony wasn’t it.

Morgan slowly forms a smile on her face, one that immediately makes Carson panic. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it.”

“Who said I’m going to do something that you’ll hate?”

“Every past action that you’ve done without talking to me about it first says you’re going to do something I’m going to end up hating.” 

Morgan rolls her eyes, pulling out her wallet and handing Carson her debit card. “Here, you go get us beer and pizza so that way you don’t have to see what I’m about to do.” Carson sits there, Morgan shoving the card into her hands. “Go.” 

Both of them get up from their seats, Carson feeling a sense of panic as she watches her roommate go down to the ice while typing furiously on her phone. Carson tries to get back to their seats as fast as she can, worried about what antics she was about to be dragged into. She wanted to be home early that night so she could start studying for one of her exams that week. She did not have time to do whatever it was that Morgan was planning to do. 

“Here,” Morgan hands her something as she sits back down, Carson still trying to figure out how to balance two overflowing drinks and two slices of pizza larger than her own head. “I got this for you.”

“You got me a puck?” 

“Yes.”

“Ok?”

“You could say thank you.”

“Thank you for a piece of rubber that could probably break a bone if you get hit with it hard enough.”

“You’ll get the rest of what I got you tonight.”

“I swear to god,” Carson starts. “I’m not god, but I am close to a goddess.”

Carson groans, trying to focus on anything other than the terror that she was sure was about to come to her tonight. One of the players kept looking up at her, over his shoulder and seemingly ignoring his teammates. “What did you do?”

Morgan shrugs, nudging Carson’s shoulder as she waves at the player. “His name is Jack.”

“Just because I’m studying law, that doesn’t mean I’m above breaking at least one of them.” 

“Yes, it does.” 

The game starts, Carson’s eyes staying on the one player who had been watching her before. He gave her the vibes of someone who would end up naked and drunk in the hallway of her dorm in college, passed out and unsure of where his pants or keys were. 

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Morgan asks once the second period starts. 

Carson doesn’t make a noise, just nodding. He was the exact type of mistake she would make on a night out when she needed to forget about something. “Why does he keep staring?”

“Probably for the same reason you’re staring at him even if you do look like you want to kill him.” Carson turns to glare at Morgan. “I’m just saying, you might be hot, but you also look like you could commit a felony right now.” 

Carson sighs, waiting for the end of the game. She had no idea what was going on, but Morgan seemed to be into it at least. 

Carson lets out a yawn as the fans start to file out of the arena, Morgan dragging her along behind her. “Can we please just go home?” 

“No, I have a surprise for you.”

“Last time you had a surprise for me, I ended up needing three of my tires replaced.”

“And they gave you the fourth one for free, anyway,” Morgan grabs Carson’s hand, pulling her in the direction of some bar she wouldn’t remember the name of in the morning.

Carson knew that no matter how much she complained to Morgan, her friend would have something to counter every whine. They had lived together all four years of college before finally somehow scraping together enough money to each get their own places, despite the fact that they were still neighbors in their apartment building. Morgan, unfortunately, could get Carson to do anything she asked her to since she knew exactly how to make it so Carson wouldn’t say no. Most of the time, it involved physically dragging Carson places, like she was doing right now, but it always somehow worked.

“I’m paying for drinks,” Morgan tells her, dropping Carson’s hand as they two walk into the unreasonably crowded and slightly smelly bar. 

“Yeah, like that was in question,” Carson tells her. 

“You go sit down, I’ll find you.” 

Morgan leaves Carson alone. The scene around her made her want to run away, except for the fact that Morgan could track her location and would not be above chasing her down the street and dragging her back to the bar. Everyone seemed like they were five drinks in, Carson feeling anxious about being what seemed to be the only sober person around. 

“You ok?” a voice comes behind her, snapping her out of her potential spiral. She turns around, the guy from the game standing in front of her. 

“This isn’t real,” she mutters, shaking her head. How the hell did Morgan manage this? 

“What?” the guy asks, understandably confused.

“Sorry,” Carson says. “I mean, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” 

“I’m dehydrated.”

“Can I get you water, then?”

“No.”

“But, wouldn’t that help with the dehydration thing?”

Carson stares at him, dumbfounded. “I can get water myself,” she says, her tone a little harsher than she intended it to be. 

“I’m Jack,” he introduces himself, not getting the message at all. 

“That’s nice.” 

“Do you have a name?”

“No, that spot on my birth certificate has been blank for the last twenty four years. Everyone calls me whatever nickname they can think of. The current one is ‘Maverick.’” 

Jack opens his mouth to say something, Morgan appearing in between them before he can get a word in. “You actually came!”

“How could I pass up coming to meet someone as sweet as your friend here after the game?”

Carson barely knew him, but she already knew he would be a thorne in her side. 

“She’s already been mean to you, hasn’t she?” Morgan laughs, finally handing Carson the drink she got for her. 

“Hey,” Carson tries to protest, despite both of them ignoring her. 

“It’s fine. It’s kinda hot,” he smirks, staring at Carson. She didn’t care that she couldn’t help but stare back, her cheeks bright red at his words.

___________________________

She always sat in the same general area, a few rows from the top of the section right behind their bench. It was easy to find her. How could he not at least try?

___________________________

“Why are you anxious?” Morgan asks, plopping down on Carson’s couch.

“Who said I was anxious?”

“You’re scrunchie.”

“What could that possibly mean?”

“You’re scrunching your brow so much and frowning so hard that you have wifi symbols showing on your face. You only do that when you’re anxious.” 

“Please don’t say that to me ever again.” Carson lets out a sigh. She shouldn’t be anxious. She’s done things that were so much more difficult than this. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA in high school and college. She participated in every possible extra curricular that she could, and did so perfectly. She had her life scheduled down to the minute, when she would study, eat, have free time. She didn’t have time to be anxious. “Jack is supposed to be here any minute.”

Morgan lets out a squeal so high that Carson covers her ears. “You’re finally going on a date with him?” 

“If you want to call it that.” 

“Tell me everything,” Morgan says, plopping herself at Carson’s feet.

“No.” 

“Carson,” Morgan whines.

“Morgan,” Carson counters. “I don’t even know where we’re going. From what it sounds like, it’s not even going to be just us, it’s something with the team.”

“He’s taking you to meet the rest of his team?” she yells. 

“If you get that loud again, I’m throwing you out the window.”

“We both know your window doesn’t open far enough for me to get out of it, we’ve tried. Anyway,” Morgan continues, ignoring Carson’s annoyance, as usual. “That means something if he already wants you to know his teammates.”

“It means he already had plans with them when he asked me to go out with him and is dragging me somewhere I wasn’t otherwise invited.” 

“You could be positive sometimes, you know.”

“There’s no fun in that.” 

“Carse,” Morgan says, “He wouldn’t be inviting you if he didn’t like you. He wouldn’t have been texting you every waking moment that he could if he didn’t like you.” 

“It’s kind of annoying.” 

“That’s because you are a black hole personified and he’s the human equivalent of a dumb puppy.” 

Carson scrunches her face while she looks at her friend. “That’s mean.” 

“I’m trying to say that you two are different. And that’s ok. He’s more extroverted than you are. You’re still going to have fun because you’re going to be with him.” Carson looks at her, unsure. “If you’re not fine, I have your location and I will come join you guys, or come pick you up.” 

“Why am I nervous?”

“Probably because this is the first guy you’re going out with that doesn’t look like a dead baby bird.”

“Sometimes, inside thoughts can stay inside.” 

“My point,” Morgan starts, pulling Carson up to lead her out the door, “Is that he’s not your normal type and you don’t know what to do, so you’re panicking. But, again, you’ll be fine.”

Before Carson could say anything else, a knock came from the other side of her door. Morgan opens it, Jack standing there with his hands in his jeans pocket. 

“Wow,” Morgan verbalizes what Carson was thinking as she tries not to ogle at Jack. His jeans fit him way more perfectly than she would have liked, the t-shirt he had on showing off his arms in a way that made her feel like she was actually about to start drooling. For fucks sake.

“I think Carson is supposed to say that,” Jack jokes, leaning against the door frame. 

“Jesus Christ,” Carson groans, Morgan laughing as she pushes her way past Jack to head back to her place.

“Actually, they call me Jack.” 

“If you keep this up all night, I’m not leaving this apartment.”

“Is this your way of asking me to come in?”

“Absolutely not. We’re going now to meet your friends or you’re going by yourself.” 

Carson didn’t see Jack physically swoon at Carson as she walked past him, a stupid grin on his face as he watched her walk away from him. 

___________________________

Morgan was sitting next to her, the two of them seeing less of each other now that they didn’t live with or next to each other anymore. Carson was laughing at something Morgan was telling her, the smile on her face reaching her eyes. 

___________________________

“What are you doing right now?”

Carson groaned, knowing that any time Jack was asking her to do something lately, it was to pull her away from something she actually had to get done. “Studying.”

“When’s the test?”

“Next week.”

“Come out with me.”

“No.”

“I’m picking you up, I’m turning onto your street now.”

Jack hangs up before Carson can protest, her immediately texting Morgan to tell her she was being kidnapped.

‘You aren’t being kidnapped, you aren’t a kid.’

‘Kidnapping is anytime a person’s liberty is restrained by force and taken to another location.’

Before Morgan could text back, Jack was knocking at her door.

“I’m not going.” 

“Come on. Half an hour?” he begs her. Carson glares at him. “I’ll buy ice cream.”

“I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Says that three cheese pizza you downed the other night.” Carson continues to glare at him. “Please? I’m leaving tomorrow for a week and a half. It’ll be the last time I can bother you until then.”

Carson rolls her eyes, shutting her textbook with her highlighter keeping her page like a bookmark. “I’m studying in the car.” Jack smiles at her, holding his hand out for her. Carson smirks, grabbing another book from her table and putting it in his hands instead. 

Jack runs to follow her, his free hand on the small of her back, a smile on his face as she didn’t fight it. They get in his car, the windows down and the radio blasting as he peels away from where he was parked. 

Jack starts talking, Carson not listening in the slightest as she continues to read the book in her lap, just like she promised. 

“Wait, shut up,” Carson finally says, reaching over to turn up the music that was already loud. “I love this song.”

Jack laughs, glancing at her as he pulls up to a stop light. “Seriously? 1985 by Bowling for Soup?”

“My childhood best friend and I would listen to this song all the time growing up,” Carson explains,the smile on her face something Jack rarely got to see but loved every time. Jack’s smile mirrored hers as she started to sing along. He couldn’t help but laugh again as he listened to her. “What?”

“You are a horrible singer.”

“Yeah, because you would be better,” she snides, looking back at her book.

“Oh, of course I would be,” he says, starting to sing along with her. 

Carson cackles, a sound Jack had never heard from her before. “You are just as bad as I am.”

___________________________

He thought of her whenever that song played, his heart beating faster every time the opening guitar riff played through whatever speaker he was near. He never purposefully listened to that song. The song never played in any of the arenas they played in, except for Rogers Arena, like it was now.

___________________________

“What do you mean, ‘we’re going out tonight?’” Carson groans.

“You just finished finals, Quinn is in town, and we’re heading down the shore for the weekend.” 

“So I have to pack for a whole weekend?” 

“Unless you plan on wearing the same thing for four days, I suggest you do,” Jack says, Morgan laying on Carson’s bed laughing.

“I wish you were helpful,” Carson says, throwing a shirt at Morgan. “I’m not here to be helpful, I’m here to be comic relief.” 

“Then you should try being funny sometimes.” 

Jack laughs, his phone buzzing with a call. “I’ll be right back,” he says, getting up and answering it out of Carson’s room.

Once he was out of earshot, Morgan sits up, a giddy look on her face that caused a pit to form in Carson’s stomach. “You’re going away with him for a weekend!” Carson grimaces. “You aren’t excited?”

Carson sighs, getting up to close her door so Jack can’t hear them. “I think he wants more from whatever this is than I do.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan whispers.

“I can’t see a relationship with him.”

“Carse, he’s perfect.”

“He kind of is. Which is why I don’t see it. Anthony was perfect.”

“No, Anthony was the human equivalent of a stale ham sandwich who, if brains were money, wouldn’t have been able to buy a cup of coffee.”

“Go eat something.”

“What?”

“Your metaphors turn food related when you’re hungry.”

“My point is,” Morgan says, getting up. “Anthony is not Jack. Don’t ruin something before it starts because of something that happened with someone else.” “Hey,” Jack says, startling both of them. “Sorry, Luke was asking if we were on his way to pick him up. Are we ready to head out?” 

___________________________

He was so busy staring at her that he didn’t realize that Luke had skated up to his side.

“You didn’t know she’d be here?” Jack shakes his head. “Quinn doesn’t know you still love her?”

He shakes his head.

___________________________

Carson hated to admit it, but she was having a good time. She hated to admit that she needed to relax, especially after the intensity that she had when she was taking finals. They were sitting around a fire one of them had set up on the beach, the smell of smoke hitting Carson right in the face, the night air starting to chill around them. The guys were all laughing, their partners sitting in their laps as a few of them fell asleep. 

“Where’s Quinn?” Luke leans over Carson to ask Jack.

“You have his location,” Carson says before Jack can answer. The brothers keep anticipating Quinn with every new person that shows up, their usually prompt brother still MIA.

“I don’t know where my phone is.”

“What’s that in your left hand, bud?” 

“Right,” Luke draws out as Carson and Jack both laugh at him. “He’s supposed to be here any minute.” 

Luke gets up to head back to the house for what he claims is to use the bathroom. “He hasn’t been drunk in a while. He gets dumber as he drinks,” Jack tells her. 

Carson checks the can of beer he left behind. “Isn’t this his first drink of the night?”

“Yeah, why?”

“This can is still full.”

“He might just be dumb.” 

“Bold of you to call someone else dumb,” an unfamiliar voice comes from behind their circle around the fire. 

“I was just about to say that,” Carson says to the guy who must be Quinn, given how much he looks like his brother. 

“God, I never realized there’s two of you,” Jack says to Quinn, the color draining from his face.

“I don’t think you’d survive with two of me,” Carson says, Jack mumbling something about going to the house for a minute as he gets up, a smile on his face anyway.

“So, you must be Carson?” Quinn asks her.

“What was your first clue?” she tries to flirt, taking a sip of her drink while maintaining eye contact with him. She knew that Jack was cute, but there was something different about Quinn. She and Jack were opposites. She and Quinn were the same. 

___________________________

He still loved the way she looked in that old hoodie that she stole, the team logo faded and cut through, the number that was supposed to be the right side of her chest gone. He remembered when she stole that, the way her eyes lit up the first time he saw her in it as she told him she liked that she could wear it while he was traveling and he would still be with her. 

___________________________

“Who’s picking up Carson?” Ellen yells up the stairs. 

“I am,” Quinn and Jack both called at the same time, Jack’s mind running wild at the fact that his brother answered with him. Since meeting Quinn a few weeks ago, Carson had been mentioning him a lot more in their conversations. He shouldn’t be bothered by it. They never actually established that they were dating. Sure, they had hooked up, and sure, it was all Jack could think about since, but they were never dating.

He wasn’t Carson’s boyfriend. 

“We both are,” Jack amends, running down the stairs when he hears Quinn do the same. 

The brothers get in Quinn’s car, a smile across Quinn’s face while Jack can feel himself start to panic. “So, you’re excited to see Carson?”

“Yeah,” Quinn lets out. “I’ve missed Car.”

“Car?”

“That’s what I call her sometimes, yeah.”

“Doesn’t everyone else call her ‘Carse’ if they don’t call her Carson?”

Quinn laughs. “She said she likes when I call her ‘Car,’ instead.” Quinn keeps talking the rest of the way to the airport, both boys getting a text from her saying that she had just landed. 

Neither boy had seen Carson in weeks, but it seemed like she had been talking to Quinn much more than she had been talking to Quinn.

Quinn pulls up to the airport, both boys getting out to go find the girl they wanted to see. Jack felt like he was racing Quinn to get to her first, Quinn having no idea what was going on in Jack’s head.

They get inside, both of them looking for her. 

“Thanks for introducing us, by the way,” Quinn says, breaking the silence between them. 

“What?”

“Me and Carson. When you told me I’d love her, I didn’t realize how right you’d be.” 

Jack swallows, the pit in his stomach making him feel like he wanted to throw up. Quinn couldn’t love Carson the way Jack did.

The way Jack did?

Jack spots her first, shaking his head of the thought of loving her when he sees the Canucks sweatshirt with 43 on it hanging on her body. Jack looks at Quinn, Quinn’s favorite sweatshirt on the girl Jack wanted to be with. 

Carson spots them, a smile on her face as she runs towards them, her suitcase clumsily trailing behind her. She lets go of her suitcase, it rolling towards Jack as she runs into Quinn’s arms, acting as if Jack wasn’t there to begin with.

___________________________

Morgan says one last thing to Carson, heading back towards the concessions, probably to get them drinks. Knowing Carson, she was out with Morgan on the condition that she didn’t have to pay for drinks. Jack couldn’t help but laugh to himself, Luke giving him a strange look while he stood there, lost in thought. 

___________________________

Why would Carson want to be out right now?

She wouldn’t want to. 

So why was she out right now at a bar that was way too loud, smelled incredibly bad, and was so crowded she could barely move a muscle without hitting another person?

Morgan.

Well, and Jack.

But, mostly Morgan. 

“I hate you for this,” she yelled over whatever music was playing. 

“No, you don’t,” Morgan and Jack say at the same time, both of them laughing despite Carson sending both of them a death stare.

“You haven’t been out of your apartment in, like, two months,” Jack says as Morgan walks away to get another drink

“We went to get coffee together four times this week,” Carson rebuttes, her phone in her hand lighting up with a text from Quinn.

She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his name, not paying attention to the clear awkwardness that Jack felt when he saw his own brother’s name on her phone. She loved texting him, talking with him every free minute the two of them had. She was falling for him, and she was falling for him fast. 

Quinn loved that she was a lawyer, that she was passionate about helping people, he respected all of her decisions when it came to her uncertainty with her future. He made her laugh, he constantly made sure that she was ok and genuinely showed he cared about her.

He was everything he wanted in a guy, except that he was on the other side of the continent. 

“What’s Vancouver like?” she asks Jack, again having to yell over the noise.

Jack shrugs, “It seems a lot like New Jersey, honestly. I’m never there long enough to find out.” 

Could she see herself in Vancouver? She had looked into it, she just had to take another exam and be approved by their judicial system and she would be ok to practice law. 

Quinn had officially asked her to be his girlfriend when she went to visit the boys a few weeks ago. She wasn’t sure if Jack knew yet.

“I’m going to get another drink, do you want anything?” she asks, elbowing her way back to the bar when he says he’s fine.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” she hears from behind her once she orders her drink. She turns around, trying not to audibly groan.

“Anthony.”

“How are you Carse?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Do I need to give more?”

“Well, it’s a genuine question.”

“‘Fine’ is a genuine answer. What do you want, Anthony?”

“When can we get back together?”

Carson scoffs, the bartender handing her her drink that she was now tempted to throw in his face. “We’re not.”

“Come on, Carse,” he says, taking a step toward her, his hand trailing down her arm. “We had so much fun together. Why do we want to throw all that away?”

“I have a boyfriend, Anthony.”

“I don’t see him.”

Before Carson could answer, she feels Jack come up behind her, thankful that it was him and not some other stranger. “Babe, I told you, I was paying for drinks tonight.”

Carson looks up at him, turning toward him so Anthony couldn’t see her mouth a quick ‘thank you,’ to him. “I put it on your tab, don’t worry,” she turns back to Anthony, the smile on her face because of the stupid look on his face. “Anthony, meet my boyfriend, Jack.”

Anthony mumbles something, walking away before either of them could say anything else. 

“I owe you,” Carson says once Anthony is far enough away neither of them could see him.

“Well, drinks are on me tonight,” he says, earning a laugh from her. “Nice job, lying about the boyfriend thing. Think we’ll have to keep it up until we leave?”

Carson laughs again. “I wasn’t lying about having a boyfriend.”

“What?” Jack asks, Carson not noticing the panic on his face.

“Quinn asked me to be his girlfriend.” 

Before Jack can respond, Morgan runs over, squealing something about how their song was playing and that they just had to go dance. Carson quickly hands her drink to Jack, running off with her friend.

Jack downs the drink, ordering another. 

His brother got the girl.

___________________________

He sees Carson waving to someone down on the ice, his heart racing in the worst way because he knew it wasn’t to him. Jack followed her gaze to Quinn, who was waving back at her, a smile on his face while he was on the ice when he was notorious for looking like he was having an existential crisis all the time. He should hate the guy who got to love the girl he wanted to be with. But how could he hate his brother? 

___________________________

“You’re what?”

“I’m moving to Vancouver.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m coming, too.”

“No you aren’t.”

“I can’t live without you.”

“Morgan,” Carson whines, “You’re going to be fine.”

Morgan groans, rolling her eyes. “I’m being dramatic, let me mourn.” The girls laugh, Carson getting up to grab a drink. “So, you and Quinn are actually serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, we have to be if I’m willing to move across the continent and to another country.”

“Are you going to be able to practice law?”

Before Carson can answer, a knock at her doors follows with someone walking in.

“Are you a murderer?” Morgan yells to the stranger from Carson’s kitchen, prompting Carson to roll her eyes.

“Definitely,” Jack says, appearing in the doorway. “I got us dinner,” he says, holding up a bag. “What are we talking about?”

“If Carson can practice law or not.”

Jack laughs, setting down the food. “How did you manage to get disbarred already? You passed like three months ago.” 

“I shot a man in Reno,” Carson deadpans. “I didn’t get disbarred. I’m just,” she hesitates, knowing that telling the two people who were her best friends was going to be the hardest. “I’m moving.”

Jack’s attention snaps to Carson, a look of panic on his face. “Where?”

“She’s moving in with Quinn.”

“You’re moving to Vancouver?”

“Yeah. Quinn asked me last week to move out there with him, and I told him yes today.” 

Jack didn’t hear anything else while the three of them sat at Carson’s table and ate the food Jack brought. She would be able to practice law in Canada with a few more steps to get there, she would be living with Quinn.

She would be away from Jack. 

She would never be with Jack. 

___________________________

He could see the engagement ring on her finger from here, the sapphire in the middle catching the light in just the right way. His mother had their grandmother’s engagement ring, something much more simple, that had been intended for whichever boy wanted to give it to their future partner. Jack didn’t want to give it to anyone. He knew that their grandmother’s ring was picked for their grandmother. He wanted to give his person a ring meant for them. He wanted to give a ring he knew would suit her and would make her think of him whenever she looked at it. That’s why he and Quinn had helped the jeweler design it in the first place. It had to be made for her.

___________________________

Quinn had texted in the family group chat that the ring was ready and that he was picking it up from the jeweler that day after practice.

Everyone in the family congratulated him, his mom gushing about how excited she was to have a daughter, and how happy she was that it was Carson. His dad talked about how he was glad Quinn found someone who made him happy. Luke gave a thumbs up and texted in the group chat without their parents something stupid that Jack still hadn’t read yet.

Jack said nothing.

And he wasn’t sure anyone noticed. 

Quinn and Carson were going to be engaged soon.

Jack didn’t know who to talk to, his finger hovering over Carson’s contact. He shouldn’t call her. He could call Morgan. But he knew Morgan was busy doing something with her job. He didn’t want to bother her.

He pressed it, turning on the speaker and pushing his phone away from him before he could hang up. 

“Hello?” her name comes out of his speaker. He opens his mouth to say something, realizing he had no idea where to begin. “Jack, are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, dropped my phone,” he lied, lunging to grab it. “We haven’t talked in a while.”

Carson laughs, Jack’s insides jumping at the sound he hadn’t heard in a while. “Yeah, it has been a while.”

“How are things?” he asks, silently smacking his forehead at how stupid he sounded. He used to be able to talk to her with ease, having conversations that would go on for hours before either of them even found any silence between them. 

Now he could barely talk to her, the sound of her voice something he wanted to hear so badly, something he missed more than he could actually put into words, and he didn’t know what to say so that he could listen to her. 

“Things are actually really great,” she says. He could hear the smile on her face coming through the phone. “Quinn and I just work together, you know?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he repeats to himself, trying to hide the pain he felt hearing that. “Have you and Quinn talked about…” he starts, his voice trailing off, the words catching in his throat knowing that Quinn could technically ask her at any moment. 

“About what?”

“About you guys getting married?”

Carson stays quiet for a second, a smile on her face forming that broke Jack’s heart with every millimeter it grew. “Yeah, we have.”

“And?” 

Carson’s cheeks turned red. “He hasn’t told me outright, but I think he’s proposing soon.”

Jack’s heart fully shattered, a fake smile on his face. “That’s great.”

“He hasn’t talked to you about it at all?”

“We, uh,” he starts, running his hand through his hair as he laid down on his bed. “We haven’t been able to get each other on the phone lately.” The two of them sat in silence, one of the first times neither of them knew what to say to each other. Conversation used to be so easy between them. “Don’t do it.”

“What?” Carson asks, Jack unsure if she didn’t hear him or thought she didn’t.

“Don’t get engaged to him.” 

“Jack-”

“Carson, I still love you,” he blurts out, leaving Carson stunned. “Carson, please say something.” He wasn’t planning on telling her during this conversation. He wasn’t planning on telling her at all. 

“Still?”

“I think I started falling for you the first minute I saw you.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jack swallows, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “By the time I realized it, you were already falling in love with Quinn.”

“Jack.” 

“How could I tell you I love you when I was watching you fall in love with my older brother?”

“Jack.”

“How am I supposed to sit here knowing that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone who is perfect for you knowing that I was so close to being that person?” he says outloud.

“What do you want me to say?” she whispers.

“Tell me you won’t do it.”

Carson squeezes her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I can’t.” 

“Carson.”

“Jack, I love Quinn. And he loves me. It has to go both ways. I can’t tell him ‘no’ because you feel something for me that I never felt for you.” Jack says nothing, mostly because he doesn’t know what to say. “I have to go. Quinn will be home any minute.”

Carson hangs up, without saying another word, the front door opening as she whipped away her tears. 

“Hey,” Quinn says, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “You ready to head out?”

“Uh, just give me a minute. I was talking to Jack and got distracted.”

“Yeah? How is he? I haven’t heard from him in a while.” 

“He mentioned that,” Carson nods, getting up from her chair. “I’m gonna go grab my shoes.”

Quinn watches her walk away, checking his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed for the night. 

Phone, check.

Keys, check.

Wallet, check.

Engagement ring.

Check.

___________________________

Quinn skates over to his brothers, who were still standing next to each other. The crowd starts yelling, as they normally do when the three brothers are on the same ice at the same time. Luke and Jack greet Quinn, Jack trying to pretend like he wasn’t distracted. 

“Hey, wait,” Quinn says when the two are about to skate away. Luke hangs back slightly, pretending not to listen. “Carson wants to get together after the game, all four of us.”

Jack looks at Luke. “Uh, we have a flight out tonight.”

“Luke said you guys are leaving until the morning.” 

“It got changed,” Jack lies, making a mental note to turn off his location and hope he can convince Luke to do the same. “The weather’s supposed to be too bad to fly out in the morning.”

“Come on. It’s the last time we’ll be able to get together, just the four of us, before the wedding.” 

___________________________

“Ready to go?” Luke asks, suitcase in hand as their boarding group gets called. 

“No,” Jack mumbles. 

Luke rolls his eyes, yanking Jack by the arm to pull him towards the plane. “What’s your problem with Carson?” Jack fastens his seatbelt, pretending not to hear his younger brother. “Dude.”

“I don’t have a problem with Carson.”

“Then why do you shut down and act like a prick any time we go see them, or anytime her name is mentioned?” Jack doesn’t say anything. “No, we have 6 hours on this plane, so either you are going to use that time to tell me why you have a problem with our future sister-in-law or I’m going to tell Quinn that I’m worried you’re going to Richard Ramirez her in her sleep.” 

Jack looks at his brother with a look of horror. “What the fuck? I’m not the Night Stalker.” 

“Talk,” Luke pokes his brother’s side.

“I liked Carson before she met Quinn.”

“You’re acting like this because you had a crush on her?”

“I’m acting like this because I fell in love with her and she never even thought of me that way.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Every interaction you’ve ever had with her now makes sense.”

“What?”

“Every time you talk to her, you have that look on your face like she was telling you she killed your first born.” Jack looks at him horrified, again. “Yeah, like that.”

“Stop watching CSI.” 

“There’s so many seasons.”

Luke keeps talking about something while he doesn’t realize Jack is barely paying attention, interjecting with a generic confirmatory noise every once in a while until Jack finally pretends to go to sleep. 

His brother eventually falls asleep instead, leaving Jack alone with his thoughts without his brother’s voice in his ear. He hadn’t seen or talked to Carson since the night she called him before Quinn had proposed. She went from a stranger, to someone he could see in his life forever, back to a stranger. 

He couldn’t even talk to a girl anymore without thinking of Carson, how she compared to her, how her humor and deadpan delivery wasn’t the same as Carson’s, how she didn’t look like Carson or walk like Carson. He was in love with his brother’s fiance, on his way to their engagement party.

___________________________

Jack barely processed what happened during the game. He made the plays he had to, passed the puck when he needed to, but his mind was empty. 

After the game, Luke comes up to him once they're both dressed. “Ready for this?”

“No.”

“Let’s do it, then.” 

They wait for Quinn outside, the adrenaline coursing through him more than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t sure he could face her, even after all this time.

“Hi,” he hears behind him, the voice he once loved now sending panic through him. 

“Hi.”

___________________________

“Alright, you’ve got to get it together,” Luke says as they get out of the car that brought them to the venue. Their parents were already inside, Carson and Quinn definitely inside. 

“I’ll be fine,” he lies, a gift in shaking hand as he opens the door with the other to let Luke go first. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to go in and face Carson for the first time since their phone call the night they ended up getting engaged. “I’ll be fine.”

The party was set up in a way that made exact sense for Carson, it was classy and elegant, while still having shades of Quinn’s chaos thrown in here and there. He didn’t know exactly why it made sense for them, but it did. 

Because they made sense.

“Hi,” he hears behind him, causing him to jump. Carson stands behind him, a short white dress fitting her perfectly in a way that made his heart race. He knew there was a reason to wear a black shirt, and it was to hide the sweat that he felt coming on just being around her. “How are you?”

“Good,” he says, holding out the gift. “This is from us.”

“Us?”

“Um,” he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh. “Me and Luke. You didn’t expect him to pick something out on his own, did you?’

“No, not at all.” 

They stand in silence, neither of them knowing what to do. “You look good,” he says, probably one of the first opinions he shared that actually had some semblance of truth to it.

“Thanks, you do, too. How are things?”

“Things are good,” he says, trying not to cringe at how awkward this whole thing felt. He shouldn't have come, but how was he going to say no to the girl he loved and his own brother? “I’m seeing someone, actually,” he hears himself say, surprised by the lie he didn’t know was coming.

“Really?” her eyes light up. “Jack, that’s great. Quinn didn’t tell me that.”

“It’s still new. I haven’t really said anything about it to Quinn yet. I don’t want to jinx it, you know?”

“I get it,” she nods, a smile still lighting up her face. “I’m so happy for you.”

She pulls him in for a hug, Jack keeping one of his hands in his pants pocket. He knew himself too well; if he hugged her too tight, he wouldn’t want to let go.

He hated how corny and stupid he felt. She is his older brother's fiance. He had to forget about her in that way. 

“Hey,” Quinn joins them, pulling Jack in for a hug. “Sorry to interrupt, but Car, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Go, go, I need to find my way to a drink anyway,” Jack waves them off.

Carson takes Quinn’s hand, turning to be led off somewhere by Quinn. She turns over her shoulder, smiling at Jack, as he watched the two of them walk off. She turns away, Jack staring up at the ceiling, not wanting to watch her walk away.

___________________________

The four of them get to a restaurant Quinn had taken his brothers to before, despite the fact that Jack couldn’t remember the name for the life of him. 

Jack sets his phone on the table, the rest of them doing the same.

As they order, Jack’s phone lights up with a text from Morgan: ‘When do you come home? I miss you.’

#Jack Hughes #Quinn Hughes #Luke Hughes #New Jersey Devils #Devils #Vancouver Canucks #Canucks #Jack Hughes fic #Jack Hughes x OC #Quinn Hughes fic #Quinn Hughes x OC

[braunbakery]

oohh can it be like ‘are we still friends?’ a modern au? that’s one of my favs ❤️

don't delete the kisses

☞ jean kirstein x fem reader [ one-shot word count: 4.2k]

☞ sfw, angst with fluff at the end i promiseeeee, modern college au

☞ plot: 'rewriting old excuses, delete the kisses at the end' - even after you break up - jean kirstein seems to occupy a lot more space in your head than you'd care to admit.

☞ inspired by don't delete the kisses - wolf alice

☞ don't delete the kisses

when you and jean first broke up it was more so a scramble to make sure everything was okay for everybody around you. that everything could resolve to being as close to normal as before without anyone feeling in anyway inconvenienced, awkward, or disappointed due to the rift now between the two of you.

at least, that was what it was like for you.

of course people wanted to make sure you were okay, they were your friends and they cared about you. but they were both of your friends, and despite how much everyone wanted to pretend that that made no difference, it made it all the more difficult to even imagine talking about how you felt. (how you actually felt – which was more than disappointed or frustrated or a little upset – as you had been basically rattling off like a mantra to whoever asked.)

so you adapted.

you made friends outside of this mutual friend group, you adopted new hobbies, you had a means of escape when you no longer wanted to watch everyone laugh over jean’s antics like he was such a breath of joy. when you felt this bitter pessimism sink in at the wrong time, you adapted.

because it definitely wasn’t a dramatic break up. it was perfectly amicable.

(“i’m so sorry,” jean practically sobs into your shoulder as you both sit in his dark car, shrouded by the trees outside and only accompanied by crickets and the occasional distant car horn.

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” you’re repeating over and over, swallowing your own tears, “i’ll be fine.”

“i just can’t do it–” jean hiccups and slightly leans back to hold your face in his palms and nudge his nose against yours, “ i don’t know why...i just can’t. and i’m trying, i swear.”

“i believe you,” you whisper, grasping onto his shirt, “i know you are.”

“i- i’ve never felt this way about anyone else. i’m just not ready.”

you can’t bring yourself to say anything back to that. you don’t want him to see you break and you don’t know if it’s because you don’t want him to tear himself apart with the guilt of what he’s doing to you or from some twisted sense of pride – some desire to make sure he doesn’t think he has as much of an effect on you as he really does.

it seems worse that he can tearfully speak of how much he feels for you yet he’s still unable to actually be with you.

you know that the truth is you probably won’t be fine. that in your heart, in your soul, you would’ve stayed with him for as long as possible. there was no thought in your head of when this would potentially end, no plan in the future that didn’t somehow automatically account for him.

this obviously wasn’t the case for him.

he hugs you tighter than he ever has before and you feel like your heart is about to lurch out of your body and try batter its way into his. why must it be that when you are completely and utterly committed to him, he is hindered by some unexplainable force in his mind to do the same for you? why can’t it be another girl? why can’t it be that he’s moving away? why does it have to be just…him?

“i’m sorry,” he says a final time after he drives you to your doorstep. he holds your hand and gazes at you one last time and you can’t help but offer him a smile to try ease his pain. it is too difficult for you to feel in anyway betrayed, at least in this moment, because you are too busy thinking of how he feels. you want to hold him for the rest of the night as he sobs and sobs about hurting you.

you feel utterly pathetic.

that night, when you are finally in your bed, you let the first feeling that isn’t in some way catering to him through. it is the sensation of your heart caving in. )

eventually it gets easier. the concerned glances go from sparse to none and you follow almost a routine. when you pass each other on campus it’s a friendly smile, when you’re seated next to each other you act as if it is anyone else, and when you’re at the same parties and he kisses someone you turn away and hold your breath and hope no one can tell.

you pretend that it was never you on the receiving end, that it was never you laughing away with him or swaying to whatever stupid song is playing, or holding his hand as you weave through the crowd, or occupying one single corner of the room for the majority of the night or–

you just pretend.

and when the group brings up dates jean is going on that you had no idea about, you do that very thing. you sit and you nod and when he catches your gaze as the boys are practically squawking over stupid jokes about jean and how he is somehow going to mess it up, you rip your eyes away and laugh along.

when sasha and mikasa ask how you feel about it, you pretend it makes perfect sense that he’d be going on dates. that it isn’t so utterly confusing, that you aren’t going to lay awake at night wondering why he couldn’t be with you – why he wasn’t ready for you – but he is ready to entertain the idea of someone else. you laugh and you say you wish him luck.

luck is what friends wish each other.

and when you kiss someone yourself, you bury the darkest feeling of hoping he’d see and feel a pang – feel anything more than the baseline friendliness you’ve both resorted to having for each other. that you’ve agreed to only have for each other.

(“fuck, sorry!” jean exclaims before he even realises that the person he’s just walked into and spilled half of his beer on is you.

“shit,” the sticky liquid is soaking through your shirt and is currently trailing its way down your body. you look up at him and you hate that you can tell the redness lightly painted on his cheeks is more so from his alcohol buzz and less from the embarrassment of spilling his drink down a girls shirt.

because it’s you. why would he be embarrassed around you? he knows–

he knew you inside and out.

“i didn’t see you, i swear,” he says, but the genuineness of his apology is given away by the cheeky smile adorning his face, “suits you though.”

“shut up, jean,” you quickly remark, taking off your jacket and trying to pat yourself dry.

“here,” and jean is suddenly taking off the plaid shirt he has thrown on top of his t-shirt and using it to pat you down. or more so using it for his sad attempt at helping.

“i don’t think that’s really doing anything, jean.”

“no, no. trust me,” he quickly interjects, and you can’t help but mirror the stupid smile he has on his face.

“jean, it’s fine. i’ll just get a paper tow– ”you attempt to side step him, but he’s shoved in front of you, still pushing his shirt to your top. but this time he’s a lot closer.

this time if you just reached up to your tip toes, you could brush your nose against his. and you’re suddenly hyperaware of your proximity and how there is no one else around you and how the blaring music of whatever party your group all decided to go to tonight is all but muffled in this kitchen.

jean’s eyes travel up from the stain on your top to you and you feel like you’re frozen in place. it’s been months since you broke up – a year maybe. you’ve both watched each other kiss other people, you’ve listened to him recount those stupid dates and pretend you don’t harbour some kind of bitter resentment towards him for it.

but right now it seems like no time at all has passed.

it seems like only yesterday you were leaning into each other, just like you are now. it seems like only yesterday jean’s hand slowly but instinctively went up to the side of your neck, like it is now. you’ve never realised how easy it is to fall into old habits.

“jean?” you mutter faintly, and he looks down at your lips mouthing his name and you swear you think your heart is going to stop. his eyes flick back up to you and you can see yourself through them.

“yeah?” he mindlessly responds, “are you okay?”

are you? you could kiss him now. you could let him kiss you now. just for a moment. and tomorrow you’d make yourself forget, tomorrow you’d pretend it was one big blip – something just between you and him.

when you nod your head at his question his hand slides up into the hair at your nape and it feels so familiar, so comfortable, that it is so easy to forget you have not been this close to jean in almost a year. you have not spent this much time alone with jean in almost a year. you have not heard him not speak to you in the same transactional tone you’d speak to a shop assistant with in almost a year.

“i –”

the door to the kitchen is opening behind you and you’re both practically jumping away from each other, hearts beating so fast against your chests and eyes wide and worried. jean watches whoever’s interrupted whatever weird moment you were having rummage through the cupboards and looks back at you.

“i’ll see you–” you start.

“later.” he instinctively finishes off for you, before pausing for a moment and making his way around you and back out into the bustling party.

you don’t see him for the rest of the night.)

it does really start feel like you’re friends sometimes. and you suppose living with that just becomes a way of life. the weird lingering feeling when you first see him still remains – but it starts to feel normal. you start to simply allow it the space to live and hope that on its own accord it’ll leave.

and sometimes, with all the time that has passed and all the other flings with boys you’ve had, it feels stupid. and sometimes, you’re tired of feeling stupid so you just feel it.

you text about assignments in classes you share, you text about carpooling when jean is bringing a few of you somewhere. and, yes, it is the most surface level friendship and the conversation will never really expand from those two topics and maybe you are yet to actually spend any time together alone. maybe there is some hidden agenda between your friends to not let there be moments where you two have to be alone – but this is better than whatever the lonely alternative would be.

however, it seems whatever way your friends have been figuring out to not have you two alone for the past year and a half (disregarding the party incident – they will never know about that) is failing.

because you’re currently stranded at a bus stop for a bus that doesn’t look like it will ever come, trying to make it to connie’s house for his goodbye party before he goes away for the summer and almost an hour late. because you’re staring down at your phone trying to figure out how you feel, trying to reason with your gritted teeth and racing heart that everything will be okay.

staring down at jean’s message into the group chat you all share after you’ve explained your situation.

jean

Only leaving mine now I’ll swing by and get you

fuck.

this is not something you have a plan for. this is not a situation that you’ve dealt with before in the tribulations that have followed your break up. this doesn’t have a solution tucked away in your head. there is no adapting to this, there is no pretending, there is just you alone with jean in his car for the first time since you broke up. the last time you were in that stupid fucking car was when you broke up and oh god, what a joke.

you know he’s driving and he won’t check his phone so there’s no point in telling him not to and figuring out some alternative transport. and you know he’s not waiting for some confirmation from you because…because you know him.

cars are speeding past you and you’re trying so hard to get a handle on your thoughts but you can’t seem to just get a grip. it feels like every next car is going to be him. you turn your back to the road and try to start writing some kind of text to mikasa…but what is there to even say?

you’ve crafted the perfect unbothered-about-jean persona over the past year and a half. you’ve basically mastered a straight face whenever a crude joke is made about him and whatever girl he’s casually seeing, you’ve perfected acting completely normal when asked about him – you cannot give yourself away.

no, you refuse to give yourself away.

“hey!” a voice bellows out from behind you, and you can instinctively tell that when you turn around it’s going to be jean with his elbow hanging out his open car window. so you do – you turn around (and you’re right about his exact pose, but that’s a victory you don’t allow yourself to celebrate) and you make your way to the passenger side, get in, close the door and brace yourself.

“thanks for getting me,” you say as you put on your seat belt and jean pulls out onto the road.

“no worries.”

it’s only when you’re well on your way that you can think of something else to say – any kind of bland conversation to cut you out of your thoughts.

“how come you’re late?”

“how come you are?” jean almost instinctively says.

“no need to get defensive,” you laugh.

“what can i say,” jean smiles, “i’m quite a private person.”

“oh, really?”

“yep,” he swiftly responds, eyes darting to you before he sighs, “i fell asleep watching a movie.”

now you’re cackling, “of course you did, jean.” you try not to notice the corners of his mouth turning upwards as you laugh and he focuses on the road.

“you didn’t say why you were, i can’t be the only one revealing all here.”

“i wouldn’t say this is revealing all,” you say and jean animatedly rolls his eyes, “i was at work.”

“oh,” jean replies, “work…where’re you working now?” he asks with such hesitance, like it’s almost rude for him to want to know anything about your life beyond what he knew when he was with you and the bits and pieces he can put together from everyone else. you try not to think about how you wish you could tell him everything – everything that has changed and everything that hasn’t.

“the same shop.”

“that shop is a shithole–”

“hey!” you’re immediately interjecting and jean is chuckling at your offense.

“it is!”

jean starts swatting your hand away with one hand as you try to punch him in his arm, laughing in a way you haven’t heard him for a while. in a way you haven’t had a chance to hear.

“take it back, take it back” you’re repeating in between lunges and jean exclaiming ‘you’re gonna get us both killed’ and ‘i’m literally driving’.

“fine! i take it back!” he’s saying as the car finally comes to a standstill in a long line of traffic. he looks over to you for the first time this entire ride, turning his entire head and scanning your face. you hope your composure holds, “all i’m trying to say is that it doesn’t deserve you.”

you really hope your composure holds.

“right,” you say after a pause. jean’s eyes flit between yours and you feel like maybe there’s something more you’re supposed to say. maybe there’s something more he’s trying to say. or maybe the ultimately doomed remnants of your feelings towards him combined with his unwavering stare and tapping fingers on his wheel are making you think things and see things that don’t make sense.

jean only turns his head back to the road when a car horn blares behind him and he realises the light’s gone green.

“fuck,” jean raises his hand up to the driver and then glances at you as the car moves again, “sorry.”

“distracted,” you quip, and jean laughs again.

“i guess you could say that.”

“what’s on your mind?” you ask.

“huh? nothing.” his head momentarily turns to you, “beer.” and you both break out into the same smiles you used to wear around each other without noticing.

“not your familiar brigade of girls?” you’re saying without realising, and before you can even begin to regret your stupidly pointed joke, jean is guffawing so loudly you’re convinced he’s going to run the next red light.

“brigade?!” he questions, looking at you with wide eyes, “you’re making me sound like some sort of…” he loses his words and you feel maybe you really did take him by surprise with your unexpected candour.

“some sort of what?” you implore.

jean is silent, then turns to you with feigned annoyance and a twinkle in his eye, “shut up.”

and you’re both laughing and looking at each other and there it is again. that twinkle. that sparkle. you could miss it if you didn’t know exactly where to find it from so long ago.

a comfortable silence settles between the two of you and you can tell connie’s house is nearby. jean speaks first, “i can assure you there’s no such brigade.”

you snigger, “i don’t need to be assured.”

then jean is pulling into connie’s house and you can slightly make out music blaring from inside and silhouettes through the drawn curtains and the last bit of light from the late summer sun. he turns off the engine and you wait for him to take out his keys, yet he never does. you stare at the door handle, yet never go to pull it. neither one of you is making a move and when you turn your head to him, he’s already looking at you.

“i– ” “i–” you both attempt to start simultaneously, and then cut yourselves off with laughter.

“we haven’t spoken properly in so long,” jean eventually starts, “like this i mean.” (your heart is in your throat. you wonder if he can make out its outline when he looks at you.)

“yeah,” you softly say, “i know.”

“it’s nice.”

“it is.”

you’re looking at each other in silence again, and you can tell that his mind is racing with thoughts and he’s waiting to see which one catches onto his tongue and makes its way out. you think he can probably tell the same about you. it’s like some kind of competition, some game on who is going to keep this conversation going so you can stay in the car together for longer. alone.

you wonder if anyone inside has peeked through the window and noticed yet.

“you know…” jean speaks again and you are internally grateful, because you don’t think you can trust yourself to say anything right now, “you know, i notice that you avoid me, right?”

“that is not true.”

jean practically giggles at your immediate denial.

“it is,” he says, “it’s fine. i think i understand.”

“you do?”

“yeah, i–” jean trips over his own words, like they keep getting muddled in his mouth and he has to sound them out in his head before he can continue, “like… i can imagine it’s not easy. it wasn’t for me.”

your eyebrows instinctively raise, “it wasn’t?”

he laughs, and you suppose it is stupid to assume that he wasn’t in anyway upset about breaking up or stressed about having to maintain a friendship with you. you suppose it was easier to assume he didn’t care about you, like he was some kind of heartless villain.

“well, was it for you?”

you pause. a decision: how honest can you be with the person that seems to have haunted you for so long?

“no,” you shake your head, “not really. not at first.”

now jean’s eyebrows raise, “so it is now?”

“i… i don’t know,” the words practically tumble out of you, “why are you asking?”

your phone buzzes in your lap and both of your eyes instinctively dart to the lit up screen.

mikasa

You coming in?

you look back up at the house and can spot the curtain rustling. you’ve been noticed. but when you look back at jean, regardless of whatever audience might be wondering what you two are still doing in the car, you still have no desire to leave. this might be the only chance you have to finally be honest with yourself – with anyone – about how you feel.

you take a deep breath, and jean watches you carefully.

“you…” you try to start, unsure of what you’re saying or what you’re trying to achieve, “you know you really hurt me?”

“i know,” jean nods, regret undeniably flashing in his eyes, “i will always feel so bad–”

“you made me feel…small. like i wasn’t enough–”

“you are enough,” jean looks like he’s almost pleading with you. it feels like you’re back in his car on that damned night. like you’re back walking on eggshells and waiting for one to finally pierce through your foot.

“then…then why would you go on dates when you said you weren’t ready for a relationship? that you couldn’t do it?”

your throat feels raw and tight. you cannot break in front of him again. jean seems surprised to hear his words from that night repeated back to him.

“i don’t know. it was stupid,” he breathes, “i…i was trying to forget.”

“forget what?”

“forget you.”

it feels like if the world was to collapse around you, you would not be able to bat an eyelid if you were to remain in this car with jean. it’s a terrifying thought and it feels like the rush of your blood and the pulsing of your heart is going to get too big for your body and you’re going to burst.

“and did it help?” you slowly ask – and you don’t know why. you don’t know why it matters. you’re over. you’ve been over. whatever he answers doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change anything. it won’t change anything.

right?

jean is staring at you with enough intent to make you want to melt, like he means to take in every part of your face and sear it into his memory. it makes your head foggy.

“i…” jean’s chest is rising and falling and only then do you notice that yours is as well. and you are out of breath.

“you?”

“i was scared. you’re… you’re so good and i’m–” he’s practically mumbling. but you can hear him, you always hear him, “i don’t know what i am. it just felt like i was going to ruin you.”

suddenly a tear is rolling down your cheek. and another and another and jean is leaning into you like he’s meaning to catch them.

“why didn’t you say that?” you whisper.

“because i didn’t deserve you,” he says like it is the most obvious thing, “i don’t deserve you.”

“jean…” your hand is reaching up to his jaw, and you’re cupping his cheek without even thinking, thumb swiping over stubble, “that’s not true.”

“i don’t say the right things,” jean interjects, “i don’t do the right things. i never did. it just feels like i’ve been living in…some fucking limbo around you.” he leans his head on your hand, and then slowly picks up your other one and laces his fingers through it.

his hand fits like always. like it’s meant to.

you sigh, “what do you want from me, jean?”

“for you to not hate me.”

you giggle, “unfortunately, i could never hate you.” you feel his teeth against your palm as he beams at you, eyes watering and heart pounding.

“i… i want you.”

“really this time?”

“there was never a time i didn’t.”

he peers at you, like he’s trying to see into your head and unravel your thoughts one by one to read for himself. this time when he nestles his head into your hand again, he brings his head closer and closer to you, until you feel his breath fanning your damp cheeks.

nose to nose.

“please just let me…” he murmurs, eyes unwavering and hand gripping yours.

“okay,” you say softly, and he’s slowly but surely kissing you like you’re made of glass. like any wrong move and you will crumble right in front of him. you can feel the final tears that were resting on your waterline make their way down your face and he pulls away to let go of your hand and wipe them away.

he presses his lips to the exact spot on your cheek where they once were.

“i’m not stupid anymore,” he says. you laugh quietly.

“okay.”

“and i want you.”

you nod your head and he smiles, then kisses you again.

#jean x reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan fic #aot fic #aot angst #aot fluff #jean kirstein fluff #snk fic #snk x reader #aot college #aot moderm au #jean kirstein fic

[misc-obeyme]

so i was just thinking. solomon's like super in love with mc right? so that would mean he'd have a soft spot for them and would be nicer to some extent towards the mc. but like, how much contrast? i've seen instances where he's straight up sarcastic, snarky or "lmao idc" to some extent with other characters, and do you think if the same instance took place w mc as the subject he'd act the same way? most probably not right? as an ardent solomon lover, i just find the thought funny that it would be a running joke (it more or less is a thing with all characters and mc anyway but im just imagining it w solomon) amongst everyone about how nice solomon is with mc but is whatever w everyone. to what extent do u think is the contrast in character? how nice do u think he is in general, because i see many posts about how lovely he is to mc but is it the same with everyone? and how much sweeter do u think he is to us?? i just love thinking abt this because like...im so specialz yay pls love me solomon :')

Oh yeah. Solomon is notoriously down bad for MC. (At least, this is my opinion and I know others feel the same way.)

And I think this translates most in that he does things or acts a certain way with MC that he doesn't do with the others.

He has a general respect for most of the other characters and I think he keeps things civil. Some of them he likes more than others. But in a general sense, Solomon is a smart and powerful guy who is likely always aware of the fact that he's a human among demons and angels. I think he tends to hold everybody else at arm's length out of a sense of self preservation. He eventually opens up more as the story progresses and he becomes more friendly with everyone.

But he doesn't let anyone get as close to him as MC.

I don't know if I'd say he's nicer to MC, necessarily. I would say that he has more trust for MC. He tells MC things he would never tell anyone else. He's also very protective of MC. He's unlikely to go out of his way to protect the others or to defend them to people. But with MC? He shows up when they need him. He stands up for them even when they aren't around.

And I'd say that Solomon would do anything for MC. The others might ask him for help and he's often willing to give it, but he has no problem saying no to any of them (except perhaps Asmo, but even then I think he would if it was a big deal). But for MC, Solomon would lay down his life. Nobody can convince me that a man who would travel back in time just to help bring MC back wouldn't also take a bullet for them if it came down to that.

I don't think a situation like that would ever actually happen. And I also think that Solomon would try to find other ways of fixing things - like I said, this man is smart.

Still I think perhaps the most obvious evidence of him treating MC differently comes down to how much he's been willing to tell them about himself. He's told MC about his childhood, his loneliness, the way MC reminds him of his humanity, how he's jealous of the brothers. He's said these things to MC directly. He's honest and forthright with them.

Not that he lies to everybody else - in fact, I think he's a pretty terrible liar. But he keeps his secrets. He just doesn't tell them to anyone else.

Sure, he still has some secrets from MC. But I think he's keeping them because doing so is keeping MC safe. And I think in the end, he'll tell MC everything.

And THAT is the biggest difference. Solomon loves MC, but Solomon also trusts MC with the deepest truths of himself.

#well that's how I see it #oh anon you're giving me Sol feels now #I wanna write about him more than I have lately #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #anon asks #misc answers

[sarahjtv]

My Hero Academia: Chapter 424 Spoiler Thoughts:

MHA is finally back from break and we have a calm after the storm chapter. Let me put my thought on Tumblr for a bit:

So, let's get this out of the way: Tomura Shigaraki/Tenko Shimura is dead. Like, DEAD, dead. Unless Kohei Horikoshi pulls the rug under us, I think he's made it clear that Tenko's not coming back. Those last 2 pages were it for his conclusion. He did add one more panel of Shiggy and some dialogue from Deku to say that maybe Deku really did "save" Tenko, but that's all we got. I'm still unsure how to feel about this, but I appreciate Horikoshi giving Tenko a bit more of a conclusion after the last chapter. But, the story isn't over yet, so we'll see if he's mentioned again.

Bakugo's parts were the best parts of this chapter. I'm glad to see him alive and well after everything (I highly doubt Horikoshi would keep him dead again anyway) and that his parents are there for him (Mitsuki yelling at him was funny ngl). Sucks that his right arm will never fully recover, but maybe that rehab will help him get to a good enough place. Also, his moments with Deku and All Might were incredibly sweet and a great conclusion to their little storyline. Seeing Bakugo genuinely tear up and look back on his and Deku's relationship throughout the years honestly moved me because it shows how far this young man has come (the artwork on his face is so good btw; Horikoshi has always been great at expressions in particular). Katsuki Bakugo's character development is one of my favorites in the series and he deserves #1 in every character poll he gets.

EDIT: OH, BAKUGO'S CRYING OVER DEKU BEING QUIRKLESS AGAIN AFTER THE EMBERS BURN OUT ONE DAY I'M GOING TO FUCKING CRY WHAT THE FUCK 😭

Deku continues to be Deku till the very end. I loved Izuku nerding out about how he gets to share a hospital room with All Might because of course he would. It's also nice to hear that A.) All Might reassures Deku that even though he doesn't feel like he saved Tenko because Tenko died, he still might have in the end and B.) Deku still has the embers of One For All which doesn't make him Quirkless. I assume this means that Deku is basically back at the start when he first got OFA. I'm sure his strength is still there at least, but it's probably not nearly as powerful as it was in the final battle.

Also, Deku's haircut 😭! I know they had to do it because it got messed up in the final battle and surgery, but please let his hair grow again before the manga ends, Horikoshi! I want his cute, bushy green hair back! There's also a scar on his right cheek covering his cute freckles I can't. His eyeball popping out of his socket when he sees Kacchan cry was hilarious, though 😂

All Might also telling Deku and Bakugo that they're the greatest heroes to him and everyone else is a really nice full circle on their initial dreams when the story started.

And then there are the two panels we get of Shoto and Ochako. I assume we'll touch on their epilogues next chapter, but I'm curious how they're doing because Ochako looks solemn and we don't even see Shoto's face because his back is turned to us in a dark light. I bet they're reflecting on what happened to Toga and Dabi respectively. We're still not sure if either of them really died, so it's a coin flip as to whether they did or not. There's also Shoto's whole family situation that needs tying up which is a whole other can of worms. I really hope this gets covered in the next chapter.

Finally, we see Deku and the others returning to UA which is currently being rebuilt. I'm guessing we'll see how everyone else is doing post-war too either in the next chapter or later. While we need to cover the main 4 (Izuku, Bakugo, Shoto, and Ochako), we also need to see how everyone else is doing because they weren't the only ones affected by the war. Everyone has battle scars of some kind.

And while the chapter is called "Epilogue", it's not over yet. We clearly have more story to cover and bows to tie as neatly as possible. Horikoshi can't please everyone (no one can, really), but I can tell that he's doing his best and that he still genuinely cares about his story after nearly 10 years. I'd say we have the rest of June at least and the end of summer at most until MHA finally ends. This was a really nice "wrap-up" chapter and we have more to go until the end. Despite its flaws, My Hero Academia is still peak fiction to me and some of the parts in this chapter cement that. It will always have a special place in my heart. I will be sad to see this series go, but I will be there until the end.

EDIT: I just saw Horikoshi's comment this week and it basically confirms that we have more story to come. He doesn't say how many chapter but he says "I'll keep going for a little while" and that we're returning to school life; the "Academia" part of the story. I'm really glad he's not rushing the conclusion because there's a lot of stories and characters to give finales to. I'm also really curious to see how school life is post-war, so I'm glad that'll be explored.

#MHA spoilers #My hero academia spoilers #bnha spoilers #Boku no hero academia spoilers #MHA 424 #BNHA 424 #izuku midoriya #Deku #Katsuki Bakugo #Katsuki Bakugou #Kacchan #great explosion murder god dynamight #All Might #tenko shimura #tomura shiragaki #All might #toshinori yagi #shoto todoroki #shouto todoroki #ochako uraraka #ochaco uraraka #uravity #really nice chapter honestly #epilogue #I honestly really liked it #peak fiction #spoilers