#And how safe and cared for they feel despite how cold and distant everyone else in their lives have been

[zaxazoom]

its good omens depression hour...

[thesharktanksdriver]

The strongest star (platonic)

This is determination from Whitebeard’s point of view when y/n met him and his crew. I decided to make this to flesh out my first post and also thought it would be fun since y/n is kinda an unreliable narrator in their own way due to forgetting a lot of details and events.

Master-list for the series here

Tag list: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck

for as long as Edward Newgate could remember, he wanted a family

As unconventional as it had seemed he had always dreamed of a family of his own

That was his dream that led him to the sea all those years ago

The freedom to pursue and accomplish this with the oceans cruel and caring waves

He’s old now, a man accomplished and still having his family grow

So when Marco brings a small child aboard Newgate can’t help but be a bit giddy

It’s been years since the Moby dick had such a young one aboard its old planks

He remembers like yesterday it once did

Children he found bruised and starved, cold and alone with eyes begging for warmth and comfort despite how scared they were

He was once like that, and he swore he’d not abandon those kids like others did for him

Those children grew up now to be some of his many kids

Years heavy on them as they are for him

He watched them grow from scared to proud and strong

And most of all he watched them grow to be happy with the family harboured on a couple planks of wood on the high sea

Each night rocked by the waves with full bellies and a smile on their faces

So it’s safe to say he is hopeful when Marco marches up, carrying a small child of about 10?

The youngest on the ship as of now was Ace and a few from the spade pirates that assimilated to his crew

But he hadn’t raised them, Moreso taken them in and not having the opportunity to truly nurture them in the way he had wanted

They were teens, a fraction of their lives already lived which meant he missed out on significant moments of it

He hadn’t been able to meet Ace’s brothers or be sure to in-still in him that he’s loved

Hadn’t been able to convince spade that he was more than what everyone in his home thought of him

As an old nostalgic man Newgate missed the feeling of being there for something important like that again

And he thought for a moment he could have that again until he noticed your eyes

He’s seen the terrified, angry and hopeless that looked up at him once before

Most of his sons whom he took under his wing had a variation of that when meeting him

But yours are….something else

He’s reminded of the night sky

A sight that he’s been more than familiar with his entire life as he looked to the stars and wished for people to call home

Despite just being eyes he sees more

Bleak empty darkness, swirling with the unknown with the distant twinkling flecks of stars

They are all encompassing and unassuming at the same time

Pits of dullness that shows the withered age that only a seasoned sailor could have amongst the cruel waves

A loss of innocence and all that a child should have

Yet at the same time somehow retains some of it despite it all

It’s conflicting and hypocritical all at the same time yet it’s there all the same

Those eyes stare up at him, no fear but instead apprehension fills its place

If nothing before could have convinced him that he wanted you apart of his family than this did

But he’s known from the moment you stepped foot on this ship he wanted you to have a home here either way

On the Moby dick you start off as a quiet presence that later grows into something bigger

Perhaps even bigger than yourself as the his sons and daughters seek out your company like moths to a flame

He can’t exactly blame them, not when he himself wants so desperately to grasp and hold that light

But he sees your apprehension when around him

The way in which you try to skirt around his presence as best as possible

Something you do exceedingly well

So Edward for your sake decides to take a seat back and watch what happens

Waits to see you ease up on your own time

God knows the amount of patience he has from dealing with Roger all those years ago and his rowdy kids

So he knows when to back down and let the stage set itself

Watch the act before his role is to come

And Edward does exactly that

He watches and waits

Eddie watches as you draw the crew in like a gravitational pull

It’s slow at first

Your cautious but you let your guard down

At first it’s with Marco

Being the one to take you onboard he decides that your his responsibility and take to it like the mother hen that he is

Seeing you inured stumbling out an alleyway really hit him hard

Perhaps harder than you had even noticed

It gets worse especially after you seem to brush off your injuries

He hovers around you a lot under the excuse of checking your wounds but you seem to know better

You always seem to know better

But either way you don’t say anything and simply grumble a bit about him

Moreso out of annoyance than actual disdain

But either or, Whitebeard watches as his first commander stays by your side

Eventually getting you to drop some of your barriers ever so slightly

Like the chipping in a wall that would lead to a crack

You talk and Marco listens

As do others who eventually join in on listening to some of your stories as you sit between the rails of the railing

Feet dangling through the gaps and swaying back and fourth as you tell stories

Everyone listens

Some even stop in their trail just trying to hear what you tell Marco as he similar sits beside you

Clawed feet of his half Phoenix form and firey blue wings tinged in gold crackling gently

The real breakdown comes when he offers to fly you around

Everyone can see something in you ignite at that

Genuine excitement only caused by child-like wonder

It’s one of the only times on your stay he had seen it

The child buried beneath whatever had happened to you peaking out from the brush

This was a good sign

One that Edward is glad to see himself as you soar with Marco

Blue flames giving you warmth even with the cold harsh winds

When you eventually land once more Edward can’t help but smile at the surpassingly content expression painting your face

That crack in your defence grows

The next to chip away at that metaphorical wall is Thatch

The cook quickly making his ways into your good graces when he has you help about in his kitchen

You seemingly can’t really stay still, mind always racing and wanting to do something

Never taking the time to relax

Thatch says you take to tasks quickly, finishing as quick as you started much to his surprise and exasperation

Whitebeard laughed at that at the time

So you were quick to pick up things

Knowing tasks like the back of your hand no matter how big or small

He’s also seen it, when you gave some of his sons tips in raising the sails or properly cleaning the deck quicker

Thatch won’t admit it to anyone but himself but Whitebeard knows he cooks more food for you than he’d usually would for someone on the ship

Even when Ace or Teach hound him for more food he angrily shoves them off

Then filling your plate once more

Thatch is the one who tells him of the time you cried eating his meals

Mumbling that it reminded you of her

Your mom

Apparently you don’t remember her anymore

Just the vaguest scent of her meals and a glimmer of a smile she would give when cooking

It….sticks with Eddy more than he’d like to admit

Forgetting was an unfortunate thing that came with time

Whitebeard considered himself lucky in not forgetting much over his years

He still remembers the loneliness of his childhood

The bloodshed and alienation on Rocks’s crew

Going off to make his family after the god valley incident

Recruiting his many sons

Finding some cold and alone while others sought him out as a father

Remembers when he first met the idiot he’d call a rival

How Oden would eventually become his little brother and hearing years later of his death by Kaido

The guilt still weighing on his shoulders even now

So in every sense of the word Eddy considers himself lucky in being able to remember

But you don’t have that same privilege

Your memory fraught with missing pieces

Leaving you trailing off for a moment as you regal a story that leaves everyone on deck listening intently

They all notice that you stare off quite often while doing something

Your mind wandering to whatever is it that your thinking of

Sometimes you even mumble to yourself

Though Eddy is never close enough to hear the mumbles others sometimes mention them to him

Names and places

Dates and times

Events and descriptions

But one thing brought up is something that raises his eyebrow

Things only the Roger pirates could’ve know or seen

He already suspected something when seeing the coat draped across your shoulders

You may think your slick in thinking he didn’t recognize that old thing but Eddie knows better

He’d known Roger far too long and arduously to not recognize his gaudy red coat (hypocrite a voice in the void cry’s out)

When his frien….rival was executed he had noticed the coat he wore was different

A darker red and cheaper material

But at the time he gave no thought to it

To wrapped up in a certain kind of grief to really think twice

But now that coat is on your shoulders

Pristine rose red contrasted with the cyan blue of your bandana and cloth sash

You couldn’t have known Roger, your too young to do so

Plus that idiot had two apprentices not three

So that option was x’d out the list

As him and his commanders talked

But you being a kid of one of his members was certainly a possibility

And the only one Edward could ever imagine Roger giving his coat to was Rayleigh and he had essentially dropped off the map years ago

So the conclusion that your maybe Rayleigh’s kid and that he was potentially dead was the conclusion drawn

It’s safe to say that it is something that weighs on not only his commanders mind but also Edwards

Because of the similar situation to Ace

The only other person you had tried to avoid on this crew for some reason

But maybe you somehow knew of his origin and that’s why? But even that seemed unlikely

Roger could keep his lips shut when the situation called for it

Something that he now praised his dead friend for

But on the topic of Ace…it was odd

You avoided Ace like the plague

Whitebeard understood why you avoided him, the giant who was named the strongest man in the world and feared in all blues

But Ace? He was practically a puppy vying for your attention after seeing you interact with literally everyone but him

He’d never thought he’d see his son who’d used to be like a snippy stray dog now practically begging for attention

But here he was

Well, more like they were since literally everyone else on ship it’s finding this all too hilarious

But also kinda sad

It’s not like they’d force you to get along with him if there had been a solid reason

But seemingly there was none

You just avoided him for whatever reason

Jittering in discomfort and leaving when you saw his signature orange hat

And they’d thought it would remain like this

But like all else Whitebeard sees things change

(Just as he saw the sea change when Roger died and ushered a new era)

The final piece to break down that barrier of yours is Ace

The one besides Whitebeard himself you had been the most barred against

It starts with a small conversation

And then on deck he sees both you and ace talk more

And more

And eventually Ace is placing you on his shoulders with his hat on your head

Or taking you out on striker as the smaller boat races around the Moby Dick

It’s a sight for sore eyes

Ace once again lighting up like a bright flame

The same happiness restrained for when talking of his brothers

Or of that person who had given him the small charm he covets as if it were the greatest treasure

Something he had been initially teased for until revealing its story

The small worn down little sun dangling from his wrist representing someone who he wanted to find once more

To thank for caring for him despite his bloodline

Because Ace saw himself as a blotch on the world rather than a blessing

It was something that Ace had hid well but as his father Edward could see the conflict in his eyes

He Tried his best to resolve it but it had yet to go away

But when Ace talks of the Brothers made over a sip of sake, a small sun charm and now seemingly you

It seems for a moment to melt away

Like the strongest of metal being smelted before hardening once more

So Edward watches in amusement as Ace lets you hang from his arm

Or how his son tries his best to seemingly impress your young eyes with tricks of blazing flames

Ace doesn’t seem to notice though that anything he seems to do leaves a proud look in your eyes

But Eddie does

Whitebeard can’t place as to why but he decides to leave it

Simply enjoying his new child and Ace bonding as if they had knew each other for years

The flame brazen boy igniting excitedly like a match as your smaller hands find his and dance to the drunken shanty music

Singing songs you seem to know and regard with an almost melancholy smile as Binks Booze begins to play

Only giving more evidence to your possible heritage

And then you eventually approach Eddie himself

The fearless Whitebeard, strongest man in the world

Golden yellow eyes staring back down towards yours that reflected a starry night

He asks you about your family in which you answer vaguely

Though he expect no less of an answer he notices that the way you explain it is practiced

And despite how practiced it is it leaves him dealing down worry

You’d been on your own for a decent amount of time now

Just seemingly drifting from how you described it

No one but yourself and the sea to keep you company

Only the clothes on your back and small mementos from travels to carry on with you

Whitebeard ponders who the “friends” you’d made along the way but you don’t say names often

Just nicknames

Sneaky but he’s raised enough rebellious boys to see past all the tricks

You change conversation but Edward allows it

Instead you ask him questions, something no one would usually dare to do when being questioned from him

He’d have to admit you have some guts for a kid

Typically he’d call people who did something like that a brat but he lets it slip this one time

And he answers your questions

If only to try and ease you into seeing that he is more than just the epithet of strongest man

That first and foremost he’s a father and perhaps he could be one to you

But instead you inquired about Roger

Another itch to prove your perhaps Rayleigh’s child

So Whitebeard answers truthfully talking about the man he once considered friend

To be honest Edward never really knew how to quite characterize his and Roger’s relationship

On one hand Roger was a man that Edward had respected deeply. Someone who was not only equal in power but also in kindness

God Roger was so stupidly nice to just about everyone as long as you didn’t somehow anger him

But On the other hand Roger was one of the stupidest men alive

Running head first into a battle with nothing prepared

Roger and him were both Friends and Rivals all at the same time

Along with being two sides of a coin

Men who loved more passionately than anyone else

Men who’d do anything to protect all that they loved even if it killed them

In some sense Whitebeard knows he should be happy in being the “victor” in their rivalry yet he’s not

Because they never did settle a score because there was no score to settle

And Eddie no matter how hard he’d try to deny it missed that goof

For as annoying as he was he was equally charming

Something that was infuriating

Because of course Eddie had to become friends with that man

Of course Roger had to go and get himself killed

And it’s Eddie who’s left to mourn

Eddie who’s left to watch the world change and grow old

Eddie is always the one left standing

And it’s there with that you ask him about mourning and how he deals with it

And Edward can’t help but give a pitied stare

A child should not know grief

A child should not know how to mourn

And yet you do

You always seemed to know something your not supposed to

A thing both equally dangerous to you as it is others

……geez you really must be Rayleigh’s kid

Whitebeard smiles, looking down to the coat hung heavy on your shoulders

For a moment he sees Roger there, smiling at him as usual

He tells you that even when someone is gone they leave bits of themselves in the world

Eyes subtly glancing towards a distracted Ace and Izou who listens nearby

Their presence still lingering in all those that they touched by literal and metaphorical

Because when someone leaves you they never really do

They change you

Mold you into the person you are and could become wether that be good or bad

Because Whitebeard despite knowing Oden and Roger are gone can still feel their presence on this ship

The splinters from when battling Roger as he was flung onto the Moby dick

The room in which Oden carved his name in the wood along with Toki’s within the shape of a heart

Sees glimmers of Roger shining through Ace and his firey temper along with his compassion

Watches Izou mumble under his breath about how Oden would have loved to have been on this adventure

Those 3 sake cups still sit in Edwards office

Below a collection of objects and photos of all his lost children

He still mourns them

As any father would

Still wonders if they would forgive him for falling them

But when he does so he remembers their still there

Their fingerprints engraved on a old grizzled heart

At hearing this you nod, pulling that old coat on your shoulders closer

As if someone was hugging you through its luxurious red cloth

His words have seemed to have comforted you and he’s glad

Perhaps even lifting some of the grief off your chest

If so Edward is happy

Because a child should know no grief

And he’d like to change that

Would like to remold your melancholy little heart back to what it should be

That of a happy child

He and his children itch to ask you to stay

But even when Marco offers you a room here

Or when Ace just straight up asks you to stay

You always reply the same way

That like the sea herself you are untethered

Maybe one day you’d find a place but for now you must keep drifting

You have people to meet

Friends you call family to see once more

Everyone here wishes for you to stay

Some ask their father to perhaps to pull the same thing they had pulled with Ace

But Whitebeard doesn’t relent on wanting you to join by your choice

Even when he feels his will want to crack when one night after talking with you under the starry night you fell asleep in his palm

Curled up and small as he feels small tears drip down and pool beside you

Or when it wants to crack even more when he catches you one night in the crows nest singing

The almost haunting sound echoing and reverberating across the ship

The Moby herself sitting at your side, her Klabautermann joining you in song

Or the almost final blow when he realizes that you breath new life in the ship without even knowing it

It’s unseen by your eyes but Whitebeard knows his sons and his ship enough to know when it’s more lively than usual

How your words capture them

He’s watched as you sat atop a barrel telling tales and seeing everyone huddle around you like ducks

Pausing in their duties or even sitting down to ask questions or for you to elaborate more

Grown men and women enraptured by stories of the sea and all its beauty

Even he himself couldn’t help but find himself entranced by your words

The way in which you tell them all are too detailed as to not be true

But Whitebeard does not relent

Does not stop in his judgement no matter how hard it will be to let you go back on that dinky little ship you called your own

It’s sail made of spare sheets with sewn in patches giving it splatters of colour

But when that happens Whitebeard promises to throw you a grand goodbye

Promises that when you do come back they’d have a room ready

That Thatch would make food that reminded you of a once lost home again

That Marco would tend to your wounds and let you scrape the sky

And that Ace would light up with a flame of a stars intensity

But they never were able to throw that goodbye party

That party would be the next one after the one that was meant to just enjoy being with you once more without having to say goodbye

But then you decided you’d help Thatch after seeing he could barely walk in a straight line, so you paused the celebrations for yourself and went to that kitchen celler

Going to place that damned devil fruit to be locked away

But then minutes ticked by

And so Ace decides he’d go find you, saying he’d have to convince you to tell Eddie of your story about the island in the clouds

The joyful atmosphere continues

And then comes Ace’s horrified scream for Marco

Cutting through the atmosphere as the usually chipper boy runs out the kitchen with you in his arms

Bloodied little you

You sit there in Ace’s arms

Bleeding heavily from a large slashing stab that has your blood practically gushing out and into the ground along with Ace’s arms

Despite that though

Despite the pain you should be in Edward spots an oddly content look on your face

Eyes looking up towards Ace but instead of tears filling them it’s a bittersweet look

The look of I’m sorry

Ace and you sit in Edward’s palm

Your small form cradled by his sobbing son who pleads for you

Blood still fresh on his hands and now smeared across Edward’s as well

A child should never die

Let alone in someone’s arms

For they shall carry that weight of them in their arms forever

So he tells ace to lay you down in his Palm

And Ace can only do so reluctantly

Ace turns to run to Marco who’s dashing across the ship but you stop him grabbing his hand

Making his son pause

You smile despite it all, a bright and beautiful smile that rivals the sun and all stars in the sky

Then looking to his charm as you pull out a similar one nestled in that coat pocket of yours

“You found me” it comes out as a pained rasp that makes Whitebeard’s heart ache

It aches more seeing Ace’s expression

Pure grief

Just utter pure grief

Ace clutches you

Begs you not to leave

To please not leave him after finding you

To tell him who did this to you

Your eyes squint as if trying to remember, but then light up with recognition

You give a small laugh, one that makes Whitebeard go still as does Ace

“Zehahaha”

Teach….thats why he wasn’t on deck

As that happens pieces of you shatter

A bright shining gold flashing in the night sky

Sparks of starlight and stardust congregating in the air

Scattering somewhere into the sky

In a fevered state you utter a last word to Ace

Sunshine

When your gone everyone is in a stunned silence

Because what just happened

But then Whitebeard thinks

He thinks all the way back to Roger

The last time he saw Roger the bastard had gotten suddenly silent asking Eddie if he knew of a song, a myth

A star that once dead formed back once more in a new part of the sky

A song was made about it once, something from the Rumbar pirates that had long died among the waves

But then he thinks back further

Back to those 3 days and nights they had fought on that abandoned island

And then he remembers

As Roger sent him flying with a punch Eddie skidded by the Oro Jackson

And for the briefest of moments he thought he spotted something shining in the darkness of a cracked open door

More rather the peering shining eyes of someone

At the time he tried to question Roger but he was as unmoving as a stubborn horse so Eddie had left the topic

He had forgotten of that experience years later

But now it comes rushing back

As does that myth of a undying star

It seems Roger was hinting at something all along

Sly bastard

Seems you weren’t Rayleigh’s kid after all

Maybe you were more Roger’s kid than anything

But….Eddie had taken in one of Roger’s brats before

His sobbing son is evidence of that

And perhaps he will do so again

“Hmf….sly bastard. Their out there, we’ll find them again” his words are spoken with conviction as a sobbing ace looks up to him, his golden eyes soften at his sons expression “their still alive Ace, just displaced when they die. Roger rambled to me a myth about it the last time we met. A star that never died and reappeared in the sky, I thought it was nonsense but maybe he was right”

“But how-“

“Think my boy. How could they be the one who had cared for you all those years ago when they’re that young? My best guess is a devil fruit” he sees the emotions swirl in Ace’s eyes as his sons nods shakily. Hands clutching the sun charm of his bracelet and scared to let go. Edward’s eyes travel from his son to his other children, the gold that was once softened now hardening once more as anger replaced it. Teach….a son now a traitor had to be delt with.

[sunshinesteviee]

only you - s.h.

summary: steve finally wakes up after surviving the upside down, and all he can ask for is you, though you're not sure why; gn!reader wc: 2.1kwarnings: mentions of injuries, the hospital, a touch of angst?, slight enemies to lovers, canon? we don't know her a/n: this was originally supposed to be a blurb for my 8k celebration, but got way out of hand! for my wifey @sparklingsin

You’re lucky to have escaped the upside down fairly unscathed, you know that. You’d been scratched and bruised, briefly strangled by the vines, but aside from that, you’re okay. Most of your friends weren’t that lucky, and many of them sit in hospital beds still. Meaning you’re still rotating between their rooms, making conversation with Eddie, who, despite having literal chunks of his torso torn out by the demobats, seems to be in good spirits, comforting Max when she’s awake, and sitting silently in Steve’s room. Steve, who has yet to wake up. Steve, who you’re not totally sure would even want you there. 

The relationship you have with Steve is complicated, to say the least. You’d never liked him in high school. He’d been arrogant and rude, and at times, he could be a bully. It wasn’t until a weird twist of fate — Max being terrorized by this otherworldly creature — that you really got to know Steve. He wasn’t the same as he’d been in high school, but you still had your reservations. The feeling seemed to be mutual; Steve didn’t seem to care for you much either with how cold and distant he could be. And still, you find yourself spending a large chunk of your time sitting in the silence of Steve’s room by yourself, willing him to wake up.  

When it’s just you, though, you pull the chair in the corner of the room closer to his bed, and grasp his hand in yours, whispering soft encouragements to him, even though you’re not sure he can hear you, “Don’t give up now, Steve.” 

With each passing day, you lose a bit of hope. Eddie, who had suffered an arguably worse attack from the demobats, had woken up quickly. Max, who the doctors still don’t know if she’ll fully recover, is making conversation sometimes, even though she sleeps most of the day. The doctors think that on top of being attacked and bitten like Eddie, maybe Steve had just worn himself too thin. He had been attacked, and then carried on like nothing had happened. He’d winced as Eddie’s rough denim vest slid over his bitten back and arms, but hadn’t said anything else. You still don’t know Steve very well, but you saw how much he pushed himself to keep everyone else safe. And now everyone was worried he’d pushed himself past his breaking point. That he might not recover. 

One day, Dustin bursts into Max’s room with a breathless gasp of your name, eyes wide. Your heart races, and you know that something has happened, though you have no idea if it’s good or bad. Dustin’s eyes dart from you to Max, and then back to you, “Sorry to interrupt, I just— Steve’s finally awake.” 

“He is?!” Max asks, an urgency in her voice you haven’t heard before. 

Dustin nods, still looking at you intently. The way he’s looking at you gives you a funny feeling, and your stomach turns as he murmurs your name again and adds, “He’s asking for you.” 

“Me?” you ask, jaw dropping as you balk at your younger friend. You can’t imagine why Steve would ask for you, of all people. 

He nods again, “He won’t… All he can ask for is you. Won’t say anything other than your name.” 

You glance at Max, who quickly nods, and you shoot up out of your seat, following Dustin out of her room and down the hall to Steve’s room. There’s a bit more commotion behind the door than you’ve seen in a while, and it causes you to freeze. You’re not sure what you’ll find in there. Dustin notices your hesitation, the way your hand pauses at the handle. He knows about the moments you’d had with Steve, when no one else was around. It had been an accident, really, when he’d opened the door, and found you bent over Steve’s bedside, grasping his hand tightly in yours like you never wanted to let go. At the time, he’d quickly and quietly backed out of the room, but stored that bit of information in the back of his head for later. He knew the dynamic between you and Steve was odd, but he also knew that Steve cared about you, even if he hadn’t known how to show it. “It’s okay,” he assures, nodding to you, “He asked for you.”

Sucking in a deep breath, you nod and push open the door to find that Steve really is awake, and is half-sitting up in bed. He’s still connected to quite a few wires, and there are a bunch of nurses surrounding the bed, checking his vitals, but he’s awake. He’s awake, and he’s alive. You let out a soft gasp, hand flying to your mouth, as you breathe out his name, “Steve.” 

You’re not quite sure how he heard you, your voice had barely been above a whisper, but Steve’s head whips to the doorway, eyes going wide when he sees you there. His voice is raspy from not using it for a while as he croaks out your name. 

“Steve,” you say again, louder this time as you start across the room, “You… you’re okay. You’re awake.”

A few of the nurses step away, realizing that you’re the person he’d been asking for, letting you step up to his bed. Steve cracks a tight smile, and he nods, “Yeah, I am. At least I think I’m awake… this isn’t a dream, right?” 

Laughing a little, you shake your head, “No, not a dream. This is real. Are you…” You trail off, not even sure what you were going to ask, and your hand pauses it’s descent to Steve’s arm. You’d held his hand frequently while he was out, but you’re not sure he’d want you touching him now. Instead, you let out a soft sigh and ask, “How are you feeling?”

“Umm… you know. Weird. Everything… everything hurts.” His voice is still scratchy, and he stumbles over his words with a wince, eyebrows drawing together and nose scrunching up. “Shit.”

“Shit,” you echo softly, sinking into the same chair you’d already spent many hours in over the last few days. The same chair you’d sat in only an hour ago, begging Steve to wake up for the millionth time. Your eyes dart down to your lap where your fingers pick at a piece of fraying denim. For some reason, your voice comes out shaky when you speak again, “I-I’m glad you’re awake, Steve. Dustin, he—“

Steve cuts you off abruptly, unable to help himself from blurting out, “I heard you, you know.”

You feel like the air has been sucked out of your lungs, and the only thing you can think of saying is, “What?”

“While I… while I was out, I could still hear everything. When people were talking to me and stuff. I heard the things you were saying. About the kids, and Max and Eddie. And… about me not giving up, needing me to wake up.”

Heat rushes to your face, and no matter how far you sink into your chair, it won’t swallow you whole, unfortunately. Unsure of what to say, you pull one foot up off of the floor, hugging your knee to your chest, and press your cheek into your shoulder in an attempt to hide. You can’t look at Steve as you reply, “Oh… Steve, I—”

He interrupts you again, voice as firm as it can be in his current state, “Thank you.”

Your gaze snaps up to meet his, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Shaking your head slightly, you murmur, “What for?”

“For caring.” This time, Steve is the first to look away as he tilts his head back against his pillows, eyelashes fluttering as he blinks rapidly. “I mean, I know those twerps care, and Robin and Nance, too, but… I don’t know. Means a lot that you care even when you don’t particularly like me.”

“Steve, I don’t—“ you pause, taking a moment to collect yourself, and then scoot the chair you’re sitting in closer to his bed. “In high school, yeah, I wasn’t particularly fond of you.” Steve opens his mouth to say something, but you keep talking, “But you’re a different person now, I think. I hope. Max is like a little sister to me, so seeing how much you care about her — how much you did to protect her — means a lot.”

A soft pink springs to Steve’s cheeks, crawling up to his ears as he stares at you. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods, glancing away again, “I am. A completely different person, I mean. I-I’m sorry if I was ever awful to you in high school. How… how is Max, by the way?” 

You wave your hand in the air, dismissing Steve’s worries. Whatever had happened in high school was behind you now. His question, though, makes you realize that the still doesn’t know everything, and that you’re taking up all of his time. “She’s okay. I mean, she’s alive. Not totally herself, though. I can— I don’t want to take up all of your time, I’m sure you’d rather talk to Robin or Dustin or Max. I’ll see if a nurse can bring Max to your room.” 

As you stand up to leave, Steve’s hand darts out, fingers catching yours to stop you from moving. You notice a flash of pain on his face as he outstretches his arm towards you and mumbles, “Stay.” 

“Okay,” you nod quickly, not wanting him to push himself any further, and drop back down into your chair next to him, “Okay, I’ll stay. Don’t hurt yourself on my behalf, Harrington.” 

Steve huffs out a laugh in an attempt to mask the pain on his face. Instead of saying anything, though, he asks, “What about Munson? I was worried he wouldn’t make it when we got to him.” 

“Oh, Eddie’s fine. They treated him, and he was begging to be up on his feet after like two days. He’s still here, his room is down the hall, but he’s doing well. Maybe I could ask for you guys to room together?” You finish with a mischievous grin, and don’t realize that the pad of your thumb is rubbing back and forth across the top of Steve’s hand. 

“Oh, god, please don’t,” Steve groans with a grimace, nose wrinkling, “Turns out I don’t mind the guy, but I think he’d drive me insane in here.”

Letting out a small laugh, you nod in agreement, “I know what you mean. But it’s actually been good to have him around, he’s been keeping everyone’s spirits up.”

“Has it been bad?” Steve asks after a beat of silence, pursing his lips slightly, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Steve, no one was sure when — or if, quite frankly — you’d wake up.”

“Oh.” His voice is small as the reality of the situation starts to set in, “I didn’t realize.” 

“Needless to say, we’re all glad you’re awake,” you murmur in reply, your gaze set on him.

It’s quiet again as Steve glances down to where your fingers are still intertwined with his, but he can’t find it in himself to pull back. Just as he’s about to reply, the door to Steve’s room flies open, the handle nearly banging into the wall as Robin bursts in, eyes wide and voice frantic, “Steve!” 

The two of you jump in surprise, your hands flying apart as you scramble backwards into your chair. 

Robin looks and sounds nearly angry, but you know she’s on the verge of tears as she rushes across the room, pointing at Steve, “You just had to wake up the one time I went home, didn’t you, you asshole?! If you ever scare me like that again, Steven, so help me god—“ 

Steve grins, wincing once more as he pushes himself further up in bed, and Robin gives him a hug that you’re worried will cause him even more pain. You’ve come to learn that Robin is quite the talker, and she’s quick to launch into a rant — something about how worried she’s been, and updating Steve on everything that’s happened. 

You know that your conversation with Steve is done for now, and start moving towards the door. He notices, giving you an apologetic look over Robin’s shoulder — a fleeting look before turning his full attention back to his best friend. It’s only a moment, but you have a feeling there’s much more to be discussed at a later time. You'd sit by his bed all day, if he asked.

And he does ask for you again, only an hour later.

[themissingnumbers]

HOW IT FEELS TO DISAPPEAR: DESCENT

WARNINGS: Glitched/Disturbing Imagery FIRST || PREV | NEXT READ THE STORY IN ORDER ON AO3 [Is something wrong?]

Your mind begins to race with scared and frustrated thoughts. Despite your bubbling anger, though, you try desperately to rationalize his apathetic behavior to yourself.

It's exactly the same as things have always been, after all. So rarely do you see him speak or emote... You'd always known your brother to be flat-faced like this, even at the worst of times...

Still, is it selfish to wish this would break through that cold exterior- that your suffering would warrant that icy demeanor melting a bit, if only to try and comfort you? Just like you've tried to protect and comfort him, since the very day you'd met? Is it so much to ask for just a little effort in return?!-

No. Wait. Stop.

The last thing you should do right now is to let your temper turn you against someone you love.

Deep breaths. Calm down.

... This must be getting to him too, you decide. People like that only enforce their walls harder when under stress. So if he can't even begin to open up, then...

"... Is something wrong?" you ask tentatively, sweetening and softening your voice to the loveliest little tone you can muster. You need to let him know that you care. That must be what he needs right now. You can't let yourself begin to assume anything else of him. He's... He's better than that. Right?

You watch the boy blink slowly, seeming to finally focus in on you instead of the wall behind you. His dull brown gaze is unwavering as always... Those eyes were always so striking, almost hypnotic- an ethereal kind of light that shone behind a dirty color that teetered closer to gray than anything natural.

Red reaches his hands up, slowly- the motion almost seems hesitant, but you're unsure if that's really it, or if you're just making up hopeful reasons for his always-robotic and methodical motions. These slow and deliberate movements were just how he was.

The gloved hands come to rest on your shoulders, and you feel his hold tighten, with something like an underlying intensity lacing the grip. He leans down slightly, meeting your eyes.

"Leaf," he whispers.

You can't remember if you've ever, even once, heard a single word spill from those lips. It floods your mind- clouds your thoughts. You're compelled to listen to everything he has to say. The words of a boy sworn to silence are worth more than gold.

"Do you trust me?"

Of course you do. Forever, always. As family must trust family. You nod quickly, feeling your chest tighten.

"Good," he breathes, closing his eyes.

"... You have to keep going, Leaf... it's for the best."

He opens them again, managing a small smile. Like light running through you, his eyes, his smile- they soothe you, and bolster you with a new strength to power ahead.

The thought fills you, empowers you, floods your every thought- you do trust him, you'd trust him with your life. And if he says so, if the only way out is through, then...

You can't stop here.

... His expression falls back into blankness and he averts his gaze, uttering his final words, so quiet that you barely hear him...

"... For everyone."

With his few, rare words finished, he steps back, turning his empty gaze back to the window. Even while ending your brief exchange just as distant as he started... You aren't upset, not anymore. You feel a bit warmer, now. Stronger. Focused. Ready.

"I'll be home soon," you promise him, before turning, clinging to the strap of your bag. Red doesn't even so much as flinch, but... It's okay.

Everyone copes in their own ways, you justify again.

Always, always justifying...

But it's okay. It's always okay.

You trust your brother more than anyone else.

You walk around the table in the middle of Mr. Fuji's home, the new sense of focus driving you onward and to the door. Eevee still cowers in its bag, but... You'll both be safe once this is over. This is the best thing you could do for it. Whatever it takes to make this nightmare end.

In the moment your hand comes to rest on the doorknob, before you can properly leave, one last thing stops you- a young boy's voice, calling out-

"Y'know..."

You hesitate briefly, before turning to look at the Bug Catcher, narrowing your eyes quizzically. He just smiles, resting his chin on one hand.

"The ghosts can't usually get in here," he continues. His emerald eyes flicker towards something behind him- towards Red?- before he returns his attention to his Pokemon yet again, seemingly more bemused than anything.

"I wonder why that is."

... You huff. It's all nonsense to you. Is he trying to be funny? Cryptic? Looking to get under your skin like all the little bug-catching boys back home?

He's not worth the attention, you think to yourself. You don't have time for this- you've got things to do.

You swing the door open, ready to keep moving. Time to get on with your day.

Time to get this over with.

As you step out, you quickly find yourself disoriented. Rather than the damp air, grass, and stone walkways you'd anticipated, you're inside, somewhere. It's hard to say- you can recognize that you're surrounded by hard flooring and walls, the structure of the room reminding you of... a lobby, maybe?

Somehow, though, unlike the other places you've been inside of, the fog has followed you in here. Everything in this room, from walls to floors to decorations, is obscured by it, no more than silhouettes and shadows in your eyes.

It's familiar, though. You can't deny that, no matter how badly you want to shrug away the feeling of unease that nestles within you from the thought.

You're better than running around frantically, though- this entire time you've felt as frantic as a Torchic with its head chopped off, but not anymore. No, you have a goal, now. A direction to travel. Words to find strength in, comfort in.

The only way out is through, you tell yourself again, reminding yourself of your brother's whispers. Forward, onward, straight ahead- focus, Leaf, focus.

You can't let him down now. Not him, not yourself, not Blue, and not Eevee. Maybe if you do this, things will go back to normal for everyone.

The thought kindles the fire in your heart that spurs you on- a feeling in your very soul affirming that yes, yes. This is the truth.

End this, and it's back to the status quo. Everyone's lives can go back to normal, just as intended.

Everything will be as it should.

You begin walking, following the tiled floors and the vague image of sleek walls that guide you towards the back of this lobby.

An imposing door stands wide open, beckoning you into the dark.

The only way out is through.

You step forward, swallowed up by the darkness.

... Your path, still shrouded by fog and an inky veil of darkness, is thankfully straightforward at least.

You try to be keenly aware of your environment but refuse to step off the path laid out for you. The series of rooms you traverse seem empty, thankfully... although they're decorated in odd statues that you can barely make out through the low visibility.

You enter the first room. The first thing you notice is how cold it is. The blue tinted tile floors sting your bare feet, frosted over from the damp air. Your sight is only obscured further by your foggy breath, clouding up the air in front of you. The outlines of six pillar-like structures, three on each side, are the only defining structures you can see.

You swear you hear gently crashing waves from below as you step through another pitch black doorway.

Second room. The little color you can make out seems more washed out than the previous room. You can't tell if the tiles here are chipped away, or covered in dirt and gravel- the small bits that dig into your soles only grow more plentiful as you continue through. Alongside the growing mess, the already dull, sandy colors fade into a dim grey. Much like the last room, you count similar pillars on each side once again- though towards the back, you noticed hunks of rock and boulders strewn about. You're almost left to find out the hard way when your leg grazes against one of the rough, rigid stones.

You swallow thickly as deja-vu begins to invade your mind. Another door. You keep moving.

Third. The chipping of the flooring is even worse, you can see as much- though now you're certain the last room must have had something else, because the pieces of paint and tile don't hurt as much anymore. Flecks of lavender that once colored the place are now the minority. Instead, the room is filled with a washed-out, near-white tint that seems to stick out even through the lack of lighting, giving off a ghostly shimmer that faintly lights the room through the fog. There's six pillars, you count again- they seem shorter, though. It's harder to pick them out through the clusters of other structures that now decorate a majority of the rest of the floor, colorless and rigid. As you pass one of the shapes close enough to reach, you absently run a hand over it; cool to the touch, smooth but with a gentle texture of chiseled stone... You feel slim dips across the front of it, seeming to make up lines of letters. You don't let yourself think too hard about what this stone must be, instead hurrying forward to the next exit.

The familiarity of this place only grows as you continue, making you feel more and more ill as you keep continuing onward.

But you must keep going. Keep pushing. Keep moving forwards. Keep going. Don't stop.

You step through another door.

Fourth. Final. You know this is the last one. It's laid out differently. The hall seems to curve, weave, and you stumble half-blind to get through the less linear area.

There's no more color here. The entire place is dyed grey, walls washed out to white and floors as simple monochromatic paneling. In the back of your mind, you now know it's all wrong- the tiling should be that of dazzling turquoise, the walls should shimmer with golden colors and lining, intricately carved patterns should have been written up on the different panels, brought to attention by yellow spotlights. Now, though... it's just plain, flat, and empty, as bland and sterile as a hospital. The walls are blank, the floors are drab. Not even the mess of chipped tile or rubble is there anymore, no pain or flavor for your poor, bare feet. Just a smooth and plain pathway.

The imposing statues that you remember, those lovingly carved stone visages of the mightiest of beasts and dragons, are gone. All you see in their place is that plain flooring. There's minuscule specks of residue and broken rocks- the amount so trivial that you only notice they're there when you bump one pebble with a toe, listening to it skid away and hit a wall.

You step through a gate, this time- the hallway opening up into the biggest arena of the four. The fog hangs all the heavier here- you can barely see your own two feet anymore. Your pace slows to something hesitant, fearful, but you still move ahead.

You can no longer discern the six statues that you know should be there. Something else entirely fills the spot of the massive, arching array of ancient dragon's teeth that had once left you shaking with anticipation.

Instead, the room is flooded with the faint and foggy silhouettes of the beasts that once sat outside in the hallway. You can't tell one apart from the other anymore- each horn and feature blending into one another in the mess of colorless decorations. The placement is all haphazard, it's senseless, it's oppressive- all clustered in a circle so dense that you can't hope to see the room's walls through both them and the fog.

You slow to a stop when you come close enough to the exit door. You can see the suffocating black of the only way forward, beckoning you in.

Within the ink, you can see a faint, crimson glow. You see the blood trickling down from it. Hear the clack of footsteps approaching.

You stagger away as something emerges.

This is not like the other ghosts you have met. Though the eyes, crimson and bleeding all the same, tell you that this must be what it is...

This figure is not like the others. Its form, hunched over as if in pain, is stained an inky black, like nothing more than a shadow. Red markings decorate its body, and it seems to distort in more unnatural ways than the beings you'd seen before.

It blocks your way forward, staring down at you with bloody eyes. Looking closer, you see the blood trickling from where a human's ears would be, too- it seems to bleed from every opening of its face, you realize much too slowly.

The reds decorating its body are not markings.

You stumble back again as it reaches a hand forward, but... It isn't reaching towards you, you realize. It patiently holds it out, palm up, as if waiting for you to take its lead.

"... Right this way," it speaks, and though you can read a calm tone in its voice, it is layered in heavy distortion, the baseline of an eerie melody echoing through the chamber with its words.

"The Champion is waiting."

In spite of the eeriness of the entire situation, that remark is somehow the one that leaves your jaw on the floor.

[raggedy-dxctor]

Deacon being absolutely soft and in love with a reader- he’s my short king <33

our short king* /hj (reader is human bc i thought it would be interesting to write)

pairing(s): deacon x gn!human!reader

warnings: not proof read

at first he's a bit distant, but then he sees vlad being affectionate with the beast and it just. breaks down a wall and awakens an urge inside him to show you all the love and affection he has

so that's exactly what the does

"deacon?? what're you doing?" "i'm holding your hand, my love" // "uhh deacon? are you sure you're comfortab-" "im more than comfortable dear"

he dedicates his waking hours to protecting and loving you

like he literally almost killed vlad once because he mistook you for a victim and he beat the ever living shit out of nick for making a joke about draining your blood

like it was that bad that nick couldn't fly for a week because all of his power was focused on healing his injuries

safe to say nick is a bit wary around you now

every single vampire in a 100 mile radius knows not you lay a finger on you and it definitely boosts deacon's ego ahen everyone scampers away when they see the two of you together

lwarns the word power couple online and just. overuses it

"y/n!! we are such a power couple!!" "uhh sure i just think they're scared shitless of beimg beaten to a pulp-' he just innocently shrigs and pulls you closer to him, an arn gently slung around your shoulder

he's a very very VERY big pda guy like. he loves to show everyone that he's yours and you're his

like he is literally glued to your side, his hand practically cemented in yours, his lips constantly gravitating towards yours, his hands on your cheek or tuckimg a strand of hair behind your ear/ pushing your hair out of your eyes

everyone just minda rolls their eyes but is secretly super happy for him when they see him grin and blush like a highschoomer

sometines he'll just stare into your eyes and sigh lovingly, or lean his forhead ahainst yours and kiss your nose

kisses with him are so genuinely sweet and sentimental, but they can get kinda difficult with his fangs in the way and like he will absolutely not let them touch your lips, he might occasionally nip your lip with them but that's iit

sometimes he'kl just stare at you acorss the room and smile slughtly to himself!, snapping back into the dull conversation that viago was hosting moments later and viago poked him and asked if he was listening.

cuddles w him are the best, he's always the little spoon because of how easily cold he always is

dates include like watcbing the stars with him, nights out on the town, picnics in the park under the stars, going to the movies together or just snuggling up at home next to the fire

feel like he's an absolutely amazint cook too, despite not being able to eat anything himself, he always cooks for you and somehow manages to perfect recipes, often adding things in to make the end product even more glorious

and the best part? no one else can touch the food, having a friendgroup of vampires means that they can't eat regular human food so he cooks it for you and only you

knits you like literally the cutest matching sweaters

great at buying jewelry for you, his only rule about jewelry on you absolutely no pure silver, other than that he couldnt care less and thinks everything looks good on you

[glowingbadger]

First “I love you” with Dima, Claude, Ashe, Sylvain, Yuri, and Felix pls? 🥰🥰🥰

Awwww cute cute cute~

FE3H Love Confessions x GN Reader

SFW ~ fluff ~

Dimitri: He's not able to withstand holding in his feelings for very long. The moment he realizes that he's fallen for you (likely needing to be prodded by Ingrid and Sylvain to fully understand it himself), he finds he's completely unable to compose himself around you. He stammers and blushes his way through the most mundane interactions. Finally, it all comes rushing out of him one day. He's been so strange lately that you make a point to visit him in his quarters to privately sort out whatever's going on. But the more you question him, the more he attempts to draw inward, until finally he blurts out, "It's- it's because I am in love with you-" he says it with a look of desperation in his eye, "I'm sorry, I simply cannot bear to keep it from you any longer." Of course, it's so like him to see his own feelings for you as something that would cause you distress- has this foolish man even considered that you could feel every bit as strongly about him? When you tell him as much, he's speechless, and pulls you close with his arms so tight around you that you struggle to breathe.

Claude: He's definitely the type to initiate a bit of a flirtation, perhaps even courting you for some time before busting out the "L word." Claude is open and flippant about signs of affection; he'll unabashedly flatter you about everything- the shine in your eyes, your adorable laugh, dimples, freckles- anything and everything unique about you. Still, he takes so long to make any sort of serious statement of his feelings that you may start to wonder if this whole... thing that you have going on is a mere diversion for him. But Claude knows the moment he realizes he's well and truly fallen for you that he needs to tell you in a way that will make the truth of his intentions clear- no jokes, no cool lines, only the rare and honest truth. To that end, one night he invites you on a stroll around the grounds surrounding the Monastery, eventually leading you to a hill where you can see the sunset to the West- but he turns you to face Eastward beside him, "As soon as we're able, I was hoping... well, that you'd come to Almyra with me," he turns to you and brings one of your hands to his lips, "I love you, Y/N. I want you to see more of where I come from."

Ashe: Ashe knew he was in love with you VERY early on. What caused it to really hit him and take root in his mind though, was a moment when he happened to be re-reading an old knight's tale, and suddenly, the romance between the lead characters feels completely different. Grand gestures and self-sacrifice for the other's sake don't feel nearly as fantastical or exaggerated as they had when he was young. Now, they feel... entirely understandable. He could see himself easily giving any and everything to keep you safe, going to any grandiose lengths to ensure your happiness. But Ashe holds onto this feeling for some time, careful not to ever pressure or overwhelm you- until he eventually finds that same book once more and lends it to you, saying he hopes you like it as much as he did, and to be sure to let him know your thoughts. And once you do read through the tale, you reach the passage where the brave Knight performs a bold soliloquy declaring his love for his fair maiden- but what catches your eye here is a note in Ashe's familiar handwriting: I've struggled to find the words to tell you my feelings for so long, but then I realized that this tale illustrates how dearly I care for you more than anything I could think of. I love you, Y/N, and I swear to protect and cherish you for all of my life.

Sylvain: He doesn't realize his own feelings for quite some time. You'd gotten close to him as friends gradually over time, convincing yourself that you were guarding your heart as carefully as one should around such a notorious flirt. And yet, the mutual attraction and affection grow underneath the surface, despite you both. For a time, he's always by your side, even turning down invitations to tea or dancing in town in favor of spending time with you. Then, he very suddenly starts to grow distant- he spends less and less time with you, and eventually seems to be actively avoiding you in favor of other 'pleasurable company.' You put on a brave face for a little while, but eventually, his cold behavior is too conspicuous to ignore. Surprisingly, you find him alone at the training grounds. The moment he sees you though, he puts on a careful smile and assures you he was just finishing up. As he passes you, you grab onto his sleeve and bluntly ask him why he's acting this way. Naturally, he tries to deflect at first, but things quickly escalate until you've raised you voice, demanding to know what's going on, until he finally faces you and says, "I'm in love with you, okay?? And I'm only going to end up hurting you- so just let me do what's best for you and leave you alone!"

Yuri: Falling for you is something that surprises him more than anything, and causes him to have to rethink a lot about how he'd pictured the rest of his life. The whole of the Abyss seems brighter when you're around, and he comes up with excuses to keep you near time and time again. He's of course every bit as flirty with you as he is with anyone else. In fact, he's careful to make sure that's the case. He won't risk his feelings getting out of hand, or letting slip any information outside of his control. But it becomes harder and harder every day to keep what he feels for you inside, and it's the smallest things that hint at his true feelings- the unusual softness in his voice when he speaks to you, how he goes out of his way to seek out opportunities to touch you. And then, one night he comes back to his quarters quite late from a "meeting"- and the sight of you waiting there for him, clearly worried and relieved to see him back safe- it's too much for his heart to contain. He leans close and places a feather-light kiss to your lips, then murmurs, "I love you, Y/N. I'll always make it home if you're here to welcome me."

Felix: Oh this poor boy. It's going to take something dramatic to get him to confess, and it's likely he doesn't even realize how he feels for you until he hears himself say it. If anything, he's irritated by the way his heart lurches when he sees you, the way his mind strays towards you the moment he fails to keep himself busy. It's an infuriating distraction, and his impulse is to stifle it as much as possible. But then, you're injured or sick one day, and something in him just snaps. He demands to be let into the infirmary to check on you, and he's by your side in an instant. He's so obvious that everyone else clearly knows how he feels for you already, and when it's clear your condition is by no means life threatening, he's left to watch over you alone for a time. Felix wears his concern plainly on his face as he scolds you for not being more careful and not taking care of yourself. That night, as you drift to sleep on your cot, you distantly hear him say, "I won't let anything happen to you ever again. I... I love you... I need you to be okay..."

[bokuroskitten]

𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥

〈 you and kuroo have been together for years. Bokuto is his closest ally, so what happens when theres a breach.

† genre/pairing: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI Yakuza AU, Bokuto Koutarou x Fem!Reader.

† word count: 4.2k

† warnings: dubcon (corersion / power imbalance), pining, fingering (f!receiving), creampie, unproctected sex, aftercare if you squint, possessive behaviour.

❦ this lovely piece is for @sugawara-sweetheart decadence collab! I’m slipping in right before the due date hehe! Please check out all the other amazing pieces in collab. Also shoutout to @semisgroupie for beta reading this for me! Ily dee ❦ please let me know what you all think!

You can still remember it, the day Kuroo finally asked to be your boyfriend. Standing outside of the gym, still sweaty from practice. He had come all the way to Fukurodani Academy from his college in Tokyo just to make sure he caught you leaving the gym.

He had been so nervous, taking your hand into his and giving you that classic smirk you loved so dearly.

“I know you have a volleyball team to run, but do you think you have time for a boyfriend too?”

You had been together ever since, even when you graduated, even when Kuroo had to drop out to take over for his father, even when you discovered his father ran a large chunk of the Japanese Yakuza’s underground division.

Kuroo had always been careful, he never brought that life home to you. You were his angel, his precious kitten. Whatever hardships, shady dealings, and dangerous activity he had to do was kept away from home. Away from you at any and all costs.

His job and his life with you was kept separate, for your safety mostly. He has enemies on the other side that would do anything to get their hands on the great Kuroo Tetsuro’s little fiancé and that alone was enough for Kuroo to keep you safe, hidden, and protected with the help of his closest allies.

Which consisted of Bokuto Koutarou. You were already well acquainted with the silver owl, considering the two of you had gone to the same high school. Bokuto had gone into the Yakuza around the same time Kuroo did, easily making a name for himself so his father could enjoy the rest of his life without crime attached to his name. Kuroo and Bokuto stayed close, and got even closer when they had to step into this lifestyle.

Allies were important to have, Kuroo and Bokuto knew this and used their long term friendship to their advantage. Bokuto was one of the only people who knew exactly who you were, your true identity and your relationship to Kuroo. He was to look after you if Kuroo had any “business trips” or had to suddenly leave for “meetings.” Kuroo trusted him to keep you safe, and Bokuto promised to do just that.

What Bokuto hadn’t expected was to fall for you.

He had always seen you like a cute underclassman, always trying your hardest to make everyone happy. Never once did he think he’d start to notice the way your hips swayed when you walked, or how plump your lips were when you applied lip gloss.

It had to be your fault. Maybe you were doing this all on purpose. Bokuto knew himself, and he knew he wasn’t the type of person to fall for his best friend's fiance. So that means it had to be you, maybe you were trying to get his attention when you wore those pretty skirts, maybe you were trying to pull him in when you batted your lashes at him.

Bokuto couldn’t take it anymore, not when he started staring at you a little longer than he should, not when he started to get hard in your presence. Especially not when he started to fuck his fist late at night, hips humping wildly into his palm as your name vibrated off his lips.

So he decided to do something about it. The opportunity presented itself when Kuroo called him up, told him he had some last-minute business to attend to and if he could stay the night with you just in case. Of course, Bokuto agreed, reassuring him that you would be completely safe with him.

So that’s how the two of you ended up here, on the couch late into the evening. You were already dozing off, nuzzling your face into a pillow while your legs laid across Bokuto’s lap. Although a movie had been playing, his amber eyes were locked on your legs. He ate up the surface of your skin, eyes lingering until they landed on your crotch which was currently covered in a pair of satin red pajama bottoms.

The ones Kuroo had bought you for your last anniversary.

Bokuto could feel his heart picking up in speed as he smoothed his palm over your leg. Which had been resting on your knee, but he moved it up, rubbing soft circles into your thigh. You stirred a bit, a yawn slipping past your lips.

“Bo, m’sleepy, gunna go to bed.”

He felt his chest tighten, along with the grip he had on your thigh. It made you squirm.

“Don’t go just yet Birdy. Stay up a little longer, yea? We can watch whatever you want.”

“I won’t stay awake.” You rebuttal, attempting to pull your legs away from Bokuto’s lap.

He worked quickly, deciding on tickling your leg. You jolted from the suddenness of the attack, giggles and whines leaving your lips in streams as Bokuto persisted. He worked his way over you, fingers travelling up your sides and continuing the tickling until his hands found your hips.

Your eyes were sparkling with tears when he finally finished the onslaught, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. That task only seemed more complicated when Bokuto’s large palms pressed your hips further into the couch, his much larger figure looming over you.

In the dimness of the living room, his eyes looked different. Lit up by only the subtle glow of the tv. His pupils were blown out, darting between you and your chest. You suddenly became very aware of his piercing gaze, clearing your throat which made his eyes shoot back up to meet yours.

“Koutarou… is something wrong?”

Bokuto had to hold back a moan at the sweet sound of your pretty little voice. Koutarou. His first name so easily slips off your tongue as if you already belong to him. The scar on the corner of his lip twitched when he grinned down at you.

Before you could ask him again his lips were on yours, smothering any words that threatened to question him again. Your eyes widened, shock and confusion and an odd sense of warmth filling your stomach.

You did the first thing that came to mind, you squirmed, whimpered beneath him.

Wrong. This is all wrong. Bokuto was your senpai, a friend, an ally.

What if Kuroo came home?

“B-Bo--” you managed to squeak out when his lips finally left your own, only to begin pressing wet kisses along your jaw, down your chin. Everything was suddenly a little hazy, and you couldn’t tell whether this sensation was fear or something else.

Something that you had only felt for Kuroo for as long as you could remember.

You snapped back into reality when his lips got dangerously close to your chest, lips threatening to pass the hem of the satin neckline. You yelped, fingers going into Bokuto’s hair and giving a harsh tug.

“B-Bokuto! What are--”

“Birdy--” There was a growl in his tone, one that made your fingertips go numb and your breath caught in your throat.

When he looked back at you he didn’t quite look like himself. This is what you pictured Bokuto looked like on the job. Eyes cold, lips held in a stern line. Not a single speckle of that sparkling gold that his orbs usually held. No traces of a grin that his lips usually graced.

This was Bokuto Koutaruo, a businessman, a potential threat, a possible killer.

“Birdy.” He repeated again, softer this time. He must have felt the way you tensed, the way you sunk further into the couch beneath him. He brought his face close to yours once again and to his displeasure you let out a soft whimper.

“Don’t be scared of me baby, I’d never hurt you…”

“But--”

“But what, pretty, what's the matter, hm? Don’t you want me to show you how much I care about you… don’t you wanna feel special…”

His words were slightly slurred, or so they seemed in your head. His tongue was against your ear, tracing along your earlobe as his warm breath fanned against your skin.

It was a familiar scent, bubblegum. Bokuto’s favourite. It seemed too sweet so close to your nose.

His hands smoothed up your sides, thumbs just inches away from slipping up your tank top and it had goosebumps forming all along your skin.

Wrong.

“We can’t.” You muttered, voice sounding much weaker than you wanted it to when Bokuto pressed another kiss behind your ear.

“Why not?” He was relentless, one knee slowly wedging itself between your thighs despite the way you were squirming.

“Kuroo--”

“Kuroo wants me to take care of you Birdy, and I’m doing just that, aren’t I?” You yelped softly when his teeth suddenly sunk into the flesh of your collarbone. When had he moved down so much? Why hadn’t you noticed his sliver spikes tickling your chin or the way his palms had begun to slide the silky material up your skin.

“I’m taking care of you by makin’ you feel good…”

“But--”

“Kuroo’s gonna be happy…” Bokuto continues, his words suddenly sound distant, your body unbelievably hot as his lips find the tops of your breasts. “His pretty kitty is gonna feel safe and pleased when he gets home…”

Your fingers were no longer lost in Bokuto’s hair, rather they were held loosely above your head, one of his big palms keeping them anchored there as he lifted himself.

You whined, the sudden loss of contact making goosebumps rise along your flesh.

Bokuto had a hard time keeping his grin to himself. Your lips were in a small pout, body squirming, eyes holding a little bit of confusion but most of all.

Desire.

He would get you there. He would hear it.

“I want you Koutaruo .”

“Your heart’s beating really fast.” Bokuto’s voice was low, nothing more than a whisper behind the static of the tv. It made a lump form in your chest.

Your chest tightened the further he pulled away from you. You weren’t exactly sure what you wanted, but you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“Koutarou.”

There it was.

He leaned back in, his large palm sliding away from your wrists and down your arm instead. All the way down until he cupped your cheek in a large palm. His thumb swiped along your bottom lip.

He had to hold back a groan when your lips opened up just a sliver when your tongue threatened to touch his thumb.

“Let me take care of you, Birdy.”

“Will Kuroo really be okay with it?”

Your voice shook, soft and sweet and oh so innocent. Naive. Adorable.

Bokuto couldn’t wait to have you all to himself. Clearly, Kuroo hadn’t taught you well enough. But Bokuto would, he would teach you to stay away from guys like him.

“Course he will, baby, he always wants what's best for you, isn't that right?”

All you had to do was nod. A gentle, subtle nod. And Bokuto’s lips were back on yours. It was a deep kiss, pressed tightly to your lips and suppressing any chance of denial. Your fingers were back in his hair, but you didn’t tug this time.

Rather you just ran your fingers through silver locks. A bit stiff from the gel, and yet so very soft.

Soft like Kuroo’s.

“Spread your legs, angel.” That dizzy feeling was back when Bokuto’s words vibrated against your lips. Your legs spread open despite your confusion. They were commanded, working on their own.

Working because of the strings Bokuto has somehow placed on them.

“Good girl.” You shivered. That’s what Kuroo always called you.

Was it him speaking to you?

Bokuto was holding back a groan. He should have felt sick to his stomach, looking down at you between his legs with teary eyes and a slightly confused expression. He should have been thinking of Kuroo, his best friend, ally.

But instead, he just felt himself harden, licking along his lower lip and bringing his large palm to cup your sex. You were so warm, even through the fabric of your shorts.

He rubbed it, slow and soft, his eyes widening as he watched you, twitching and whimpering. You were already becoming so pliant, hips rubbing back into his palm. The longer it went on, the warmer you got.

He was so excited to split you open.

“Tell me what you want.” Bokuto looked into your eyes, waited. He knew the words were there on the tip of your tongue.

“C-Can you…” It was so cute, hearing you stutter over yourself despite the way you shamelessly pressed into his hand.

“Can you touch me, Kou...”

Finally he released his groan, loud and guttural. He moved his hands only a moment, just long enough to grip the hem of your shorts. In one swoop they were off your trembling thighs, discarded on the floor.

You were even more beautiful than Bokuto had imagined, one palm covering your flustered face while your thighs glistened in the dim glow of the tv. And there was your cunt, folds slightly swollen and shiny with your desire.

He would have taken a picture if he could have but that could be saved for another time.

“You’re so pretty baby, you’ve got the perfect little cunt.” Bokuto said with one of his signature grins, the ones that used to make your heart flutter back in high school when he would score a point.

His fingers were gentle, rubbing one large strip along your slit. Slowly he split open your lips, holding back the urge to drool. There was your perfect hole, fluttering around nothing.

Basically beckoning him.

“S-Stop staring Kou…” your voice was so whiny, so soft as you looked at him through tear clumped lashes. He hushed you softly, one palm on your cheek so he could have a better view of your face.

He just had to see what you looked like when he finally pressed inside.

“Can’t help it Birdy, you’re just so beautiful…” His thumb pushed past your bottom lip at the same time he pressed two thick fingers into your pussy. Your gasp was adorable, lips quickly latching onto his thumb to hide the whines.

His fingers alone were enough to cause a slight burn, the stretch feeling so much different than the one Kuroo could provide for you. It made you press your hips into his touch, your trembling fingers gripping his wrist with desperation.

Bokuto bit his lip, slowly pumping his fingers in and out. He would push all the way in until he reached his knuckles, allowing the cold surface of his rings to make you yelp every time before pulling out to just his fingertips.

He kept this pace until your hips began to match it, your adorable little body humping along his fingers as you tried your very best to keep yourself quiet.

Bokuto didn’t want that though. He wanted to hear you, needed to hear his name spilling off your lips. So he pulled his thumb from your mouth, gave your bottom lip a little tug as an act of encouragement.

“Feels good baby? Tell me how it feels?”

“F-Feels.” You were still stumbling over yourself. So cute. “Feels good…”

“Yea? I can tell, your pussy is swallowing me up.”

He chuckled when embarrassment flashed over your face, but before you could hide your face from him yet again he pressed the pad of his thumb to your clit. The action had you gasping, back lifting slightly off the mattress.

“That’s it…” Bokuto murmured, gaze locked on your face, how it scrunched up and twisted so pretty as the pleasure took over you. Your cunt squeezed around his fingers, an indication for him to add just one more.

“S’too much~” you tried whimpering at him, but Bokuto brushed it off with a couple of quick kisses to your lips. He had to prep you anyway, his cock was already threatening to rip through his pants.

When your voice heightened in pitch Bokuto picked up his pace. He brought his face close to your pussy, allowing his hot breath to fan over it. That had you grasping the cushions for dear life, a string of pleas leaving your lips.

“Want you to come on my fingers now Birdy. You can do it. It’ll feel so good. Be a good girl and cum.”

Your body reacted for you, lips hung open in a silent scream as his fingertips focused on that spongy spot within you. With a couple more tight circles into your clit you fell apart, walls clenching before gushing around his fingers.

Bokuto’s pupils blew out at the sight, nothing but primal desire flooding his system as he watched your arousal drown out his fingers. It wet his knuckles, coated his rings as he ever so slowly pulled his fingers free. The slick pop had both of you groaning softly, and he couldn’t help but watch as he spread his fingers apart to find strings of your arousal keeping them together.

He had to have a taste and refused to continue the evening without it. So he sucked his fingers into his mouth. His moan was nothing short of obscene, making sure he licked off every ounce of your essence.

You were panting as you watched him, eyes still tear glazed and body tingling as it came down from the high. When he finally noticed you staring he grinned.

But this time it was different. Not the scoring high school Bokuto, or the Bokuto who would flash this grin when he had a little too much to drink

This was different. Darker, carnal. It made a shiver travel all the way up your spine.

And yet you still didn’t say no when he told you to take your tank top off, didn’t say no when he pulled off his own black button up, back muscles rippling in the dim lighting as he pulled you into his lap.

And you definitely couldn’t say no to him when he pulled his cock free, the sheer length and girth making you whine.

He was so much bigger than Kuroo. Thicker, wider, maybe even longer.

“Shh Birdy, hold on tight. It’s only gonna hurt for a few seconds. Then I’m gonna make you feel so very good.” His reassurance puts you at ease. Kuroo had done the same for you, way back when the two of you first slept together.

Would Kuroo really be okay with this--

The gasp that was ripped from your throat made Bokuto that much more excited. Just his tip had pushed past the first ring of muscles and already there were tears in your eyes, nails digging into his shoulders at the stretch he provided.

“K-Kou, can’t, I can’t”

“Shh birdy. Remember I’m gonna make you feel good, promise.” And he really did want to make you feel good but fuck, with the way your pussy already clenched around his tip, threatened to suffocate him as he pressed in inch by inch, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his cool.

You were already creaming when he finally bottomed out, your legs wobbly when they tightened around him. Bokuto couldn’t tear his gaze from his lap, where he stretched out your sweet cunt. It was already drooling, swollen from just being split open by him.

Absent-mindedly he trailed his fingers over your tummy, fingers cursorily tracing the bulge he was able to form there.

There’s no way Kuroo filled you up this good, Bokuto knew that for certain.

“P-Please.” Your voice snapped Bokuto back to reality, the whine in your tone enough to make his dick twitch inside you. “M-Move Kou, need you.”

He sighed. Of course you needed him.

With his palms firmly grasping your hips he pulled you up his cock, just enough that the tip was still edged inside before he began to fuck you on himself. His arm muscles rippled with each push and pull, his hips thrust upwards every time he pushed you back down in order to help with the momentum.

You were gripping onto him so tightly, leaving red streaks along his shoulder blades. Your moans were sweet, sweet music, filling up the empty space with nothing but babbles and cries of his name.

There was still a part of him that looked at you with disappointment, a part of him that screamed how wrong this was, a part of him that knew if Kuroo walked through the doors right now you’d probably both be dead.

But when you looked at him with a tear streaked face, lips hung in a silent cry, skin rippling due to his relentless thrusts, how could he stop himself?

He was even more thrilled when your nails dug into his skin, along his back and shoulders, even along his forearms and pecks. “That’s it Birdy, you’re doin’ so well, takin’ my cock like this.”

The wet slapping sounds soon filled up the room, along with the moans and whimpers the both of you released. With a grunt, Bokuto had your back against the cushions once more, just so he could thrust within your tight cunt harder, faster.

Anything to feel you coming around him, to feel your walls squeeze him. It was everything he knew it would be, better even.

And he knew, Kuroo couldn’t make you feel this way, no way in hell could he even compare.

You had planned to ask him to pull out. No one had ever come inside you before, except Kuroo of course. It was his way of marking you, the subtle possessiveness always coming through when he would fill you to the brim and then plug you up.

But now, as Bokuto drilled into you, showered you with praises and sweet groans you lost all thought. All you thought of was the sweet sting, the stretch his cock could provide. The way he was able to smack into your sweet spot with every thrust.

So when he grunted out a “gonna cum.” you couldn’t find the words to stop him, rather you just let your eye roll back, let out a sweet cry when one of his calloused thumbs pressed into your clit.

Bokuto’s hips smacked into you once, twice more, before his balls twitched and his load filled you up. Rope after rope of warm cum spilled into you, one last strand being milked from him as you clenched up around him, finishing only seconds after he did.

His arms were around you, holding your trembling form so tightly to his chest. He had to look though, had to see exactly what it looked like when you were filled to the brim. So he pulled up just a little bit, moaned out loud at the sight of his cock, how when he slowly pulled it out it was covered in a layer of milky slick.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” He murmured, fingers scooping up the beads of arousal dripping from your used hole, only to push them back in.

He didn’t want a single drop wasted.

You were finally starting to come down from the high when Bokuto lifted his weight from you, the loss of contact making you shudder. In your right mind you could have covered up, but instead, you stayed sprawled out, lips tilted into a dumb little smile.

“K-Kou…” You murmured to him, making him look down at you as he stretched out, wincing from the marks you left that managed to break skin.

“Kuroo is gonna be so happy, you took great care of me…” Bokuto hummed, his smirk growing. He was so lucky, so lucky you were so sweet and naive.

He scooped you up then, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. As much as he would have loved to leave you there on the couch, a nice mess for Kuroo to come home to, he had to play it safe. He made sure to clean you up properly, tuck you into bed with fresh and clean clothes.

Bokuto couldn’t lose his closest ally just yet. So until then--

“I’ll make sure Tetsu knows. But you baby, I want you to keep it our secret okay? Can you do that for me?”

That sat funny with you, made your stomach tighten, just how it had at the beginning of the evening. You wanted to question him, ask why you couldn’t be a part of the discussion.

But when Bokuto loomed over you once more, one of his much larger palms easing itself over your neck, you were reminded yet again. Reminded of Bokuto and his power, his power over you.

And now over Kuroo.

“It's our secret. Remember that Birdy. Kuroo has always kept you in a cage, away from the world so others couldn’t hurt you, isn’t that right? Well now I’m going to do the same, keep you in a cage of my own, just the two of us…”

❦ @hqintheclub {check out the network}

❦ all rights reserved to bokuroskitten©

[imkylotrash]

Searching For Calm

Pairing: Sky x Stella. Sky x reader. 

Request: Maybe you could write a Sky one where reader is always there for him and he just sees Stella. So the reader (mind fairy) shuts herself out and it takes some time for him to notice. Anonymous

A/N Ignore the text on the gif. I couldn’t find one I liked for this fic. 

“Are we still on for tonight?” you ask knowing what’s coming but hoping you’re wrong. Sky doesn’t notice your face fall when he shakes his head.

“Sorry, I promised Stella she could come over. She had a rough day.” You want to scream at him that every day is hard for you. Every day you wake up and feel every emotion that runs through Alfea. Happy, sad, lonely, scared. Some days you can’t even figure out which feelings are your own. You want to confess how the only calm you ever feel is when you’re with Sky, but it doesn’t matter. He only has eyes for Stella. 

“Yeah, no problem. Talk tomorrow then?” He never has the chance to answer. Stella sits down on his lap stealing away the short time you and Sky had alone. You literally feel her dislike as she turns slightly your way. 

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah. There’s a lot of things you didn’t notice,” you mumble hinting at the five empty chairs around the table but they’re already to consumed by each other to pay any more attention to you. 

“Bye, Sky.” There’s no reply, but you didn’t expect one. It’s been 2 months like this ever since Stella decided that Sky was good enough for her despite her dumping him over the summer to spend time with other boys. A fact they’ve both decided to ignore. You put on headphones hoping it might help you drown out everyone’s emotions. You know Farah told you to focus on shutting other people’s emotions out, to only feel them when you want to. But lately, you haven’t been able to focus and you have a suspicion it might be related to the way Sky’s been treating you. 

“They’re locking tongues again. It’s getting disgusting.” Riven appears next to you with a sour look on his face. The one person who just might hate the relationship more than you. 

“I know. He cancelled on me again.” 

“He’s treating you like trash.” You sense his anger more than you see it. You’ve been a trio since you were young and Stella has gone ahead and ruined that. She dislikes you and Riven and for some reason Sky always chooses her. You guess love really does blind people. 

“He treats you like trash too,” you counter not ready to face the truth yet. 

“Yeah, but most of the time I deserve it. You, however, doesn’t ever deserve it.” He’s radiating affection as he looks at you. He’s well aware of your crush on Sky and he’s made his feelings clear on more than several occasions that you deserve someone who actually cares. He’s like your big brother, always looking out for you. 

“I was thinking I might just take some time to myself. See if he misses me.” It’s a very cruel game that you’ll be playing with yourself because you know he won’t notice. Not as long as he’s dating Stella. Riven puts his arm around you as you walk down the hallway. 

“I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve said in months.” You nudge him lightly but regrettably have to agree with him. In the next couple of weeks, you stay away from Sky. And even though you already knew his reaction, it still feels like someone is pulling at your heartstrings when you see him being just fine. It’s like he doesn’t even realise that you’re not around. Riven tries his hardest to cheer you up, but now that you’re without any comfort from your powers, you feel the toll much more than before. You start sleeping in Riven’s bed whenever Sky stays over at Stella’s. There’s nothing more than friendly comfort in it. Slowly, Riven becomes your escape from everyone else and it feels so good. You know you shouldn’t depend on others to help you cope with your feelings but it’s all you can do right now. Tonight is one of those nights where Riven has the room to himself. Or at least that’s what he’s been told by Sky but for some reason he stumbles through the door in the middle of the night. 

“Y/N?” He sees you first. There’s no missing the feeling of betrayal going through him. You know exactly what he’s thinking. Riven? Really? It’s all over his face and you hate it. You hate that he gets to judge you when he hasn’t talked to you in weeks. 

“I thought you were going to be with Stella tonight?” Riven starts to stir next to you.

“We got into a fight. What are you doing here?” 

“I’m sleeping.” You know you should tell him that there’s nothing between you and Riven but there’s a small, petty part of you that really likes how he feels right now. 

“Yeah, but with Riven? Are you dating or something?” He’s trying to act unbothered but you’re both painfully aware of your ability to feel everything he feels. 

“That’s none of your business, man.” Cue Riven who’s ready to provoke Sky. He’s been upset with him for a while and with the way Sky is acting right now, Riven can’t help himself. This is going to end in a fight if you don’t get it under control. 

“I can’t sleep alone, okay? I haven’t been able to for a while. Riven calms me.” You thought you were defusing the situation but somehow your comment just makes everything much worse.  

“He calms you? So I’m not good enough anymore?” His voice almost breaks and in turn something breaks inside of you. He doesn’t get to be the one with the broken heart. He let you go and forgot you even existed. He spent the last four weeks in Stella-land and now that they’ve had a fight, suddenly you’re good enough. You’re about to tell him off but Riven beats you to it. 

“You haven’t been here! She’s been going through shit and you’ve been so caught up with yourself that you didn’t even notice that you guys haven’t talked for weeks. If anything you should be thankful, I’ve been here!” The situation is escalating much faster than you thought possible. They both radiate feelings overwhelming you. It’s difficult to keep track of which feelings belong to who. 

“He’s right, Sky. Ever since you and Stella got back together, all you’ve seen is her. You cancelled all of our plans and completely cut me out.” You want to cry or hit Sky right in the face and you’re not sure which feeling is your own right now. Instead of doing either of those you get up and run away from the situation entirely. They both call after you but you just need to find a quiet place away from people’s feelings. You run outside and down the field. There’s a tree at the very back that you’ve crawled up more times than you remember. It’s always been your safe spot whenever you needed to get away. You’re hoping that Sky doesn’t remember it and after an hour alone you start to feel safe. But then you feel it - or more precisely him. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s coming right at you.

“Y/N, I’m coming up.” You want to scream at him to go away but suddenly you’ve gone mute. 

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been a dick.” You don’t argue with that statement. He really has been a dick.

“Riven really set me straight after you left. And when he started pointing it out, I realised that I haven’t been myself. I’ve been distant and cold, I’ve taken you for granted,” he says and you feel his regret just as much as you see it on his face. 

“I never meant to do that. I got so caught up in Stella’s web and because of that I hurt the person who means the most to me.” 

“You took away my calm,” you mumble blinded by tears. It sounds so childish saying out loud but he was the one person who could make you feel normal. His energy cancelled out everyone else’s. You look over at him blinking several times before being able to focus on his face. 

“I’m really sorry.” He takes your hands in his and you let him. It’s that heart of yours that’s betraying you. It always beats a little faster when he looks at you. 

“I can’t do this again. I can’t keep losing you over and over again,” you admit dangerously close to just owning up to your feelings. How he takes your breath away just walking towards you, how he makes you smile even at your worst moments, how he makes your palms sweat whenever he’s near. You want to admit it all because you’re so tired of having to hide your own feelings when everyone else can have their feelings heard. 

“You won’t have to. I ended things with Stella before I came out here. When I saw you with Riven,” he pauses to take a deep breath, ”I felt my heart crack. I hated the idea of seeing you with anyone else.” You stop breathing. For once, you use your powers to reach out and feel his fully. You feel like screaming when you notice the very feeling you’ve been consumed by yourself. 

“Did you just-”

“No!” You say it too quickly. He knows what you did but he doesn’t seem to mind it. He smiles as he takes your hand. 

“I know this is really poor timing and I hate how much it took for me to realise that what I feel for you is way beyond how I should feel for a friend. But if there’s even a small part of you that cares for me like that, I’d really like a second chance.” You’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because there’s no way you went from being ignored by him to have him confess his feelings for you. It doesn’t change how fast your heart is beating in your chest or the blush creeping onto your cheeks. 

“You just got out of a relationship, Sky.” Even though your heart is all for jumping into his arms and riding off into the sunset, the logical part of your brain can’t help but recall how he was in a relationship up until an hour ago. 

“I’m too late, aren’t I?” 

“I really like you, but I also feel like I don’t know you anymore. I look at you and see the face of my best friend, but I also see a stranger.” You don’t know how to explain it properly but somehow Sky gets it. 

“How about we start out easy? Get to know each other again.” He cups your cheek as he looks into your eyes. He opens his mind to let you know that he truly means everything he’s said. You can feel his feelings yelling to be heard. 

“I’d like that.” 

[babysemi]

Futakuchi Kenji ❥ Library of Love

a/n: let's start this happy loving wonderful month with some hardcore angst babey word count: 1301 warning: gender-neutral, angst, little to no comfort, futakuchi doesn't get whats coming to him summary: Futakuchi Kenji never realised how often he fought with his partner. He never even thought to count. Until, finally, the number reached one too many. prompt: "It was only when I began to feel actual, physical pain every time you left the room that it finally dawned on me: I was in love, for the first time in my life." Dangerous Liaisons, Choderlos de Laclos

If anyone were to describe Futakuchi Kenji, they would've described him as laid-back or lazy. It always seemed that, if he had a choice, he would always choose a more hands-off approach where he wouldn't have to do much.

You knew differently, though.

At first, you were just like everyone else. You had met Futakuchi during high school and you knew him as the troublesome second-year when you joined to manage the volleyball team.

But, when you really got to know him and, of course, after all the trials and tribulations of high school and of all the volleyball tournaments, you found out you were dead wrong.

Futakuchi seemed like he was cold and kept people at arm's distance but that wasn't the case at all.

In fact, Futakuchi was a passionate man. He cared for so few people, that's true, but that was only because he was selective when it came to getting attached to people. When he cared about people or about things, he truly cared.

Maybe that was what made you fall in love with him.

The fact that he had this cold exterior but deigned you precious enough to care about made your heart flutter and your cheeks warm. You were precious enough that he thought he could be comfortable with you, safe with you, let down his guards with you.

Maybe that's what made this all the more painful.

Because, see, you knew Futakuchi as a passionate and loving boyfriend, as the man that couldn't keep his hands off of you just because. He'd place his warm palm against your thigh, your lower leg, your arm, somewhere on you because he just liked having you near.

You knew him as loving and kind and soft.

Why he was so suddenly distant and mean and cold was beyond you.

You tried to remember where it started. Maybe sometime during third-year when he had to adopt more responsibilities as the Date Tech volleyball captain? Or, maybe, when his work at the power plant started? Or, when he was promoted?

Something about being responsible, about being too busy or, maybe, having too much stuff on his plate seemed to make him completely forget about you.

You weren't a selfish lover. You let him distance himself, let him be busy with whatever he needed to do. All you really truly asked of him was that, when he came home, he went back to being that loving wonderful boyfriend you knew him to be.

Instead, when he crossed the threshold of your front door, that cold expression on his face never changed. He was still cold mean stressed Futakuchi Kenji.

The same mouth that used to utter devotion to you could only spit and snap and frown. The same hands that used to hold you as if you were precious seemed to only know now how to push you away.

You told him as much. You told him, your words careful and soft and gentle like you were walking on thin ice over a deep-frozen lake.

Carefully, you explained that you felt lonely, that you missed him, that you wished he would go back to how he was before.

He would make empty promises and, like echos along a frozen tundra, they would start strong but fade, his promise eventually forgotten. Maybe, he just had more important things to store in his brain.

Over and over, you'd breach the subject when his promise had faded and Futakuchi would renew it and you'd be reminded of the same Futakuchi you fell in love with.

Except, in reality, the Futakuchi in front of you was just a shadow of his old self and, despite his renewed promises, every single time, without a doubt, like the reliability of an echo, he started strong but he would always drift away.

Eventually, you took the wrong step and the ice gave way under you, plunging you into cold waters. At least, it felt that way with how the cold sweat suddenly broke out onto your skin, the way you felt breathless like you were drowning, the way Futakuchi was suddenly so ice cold.

He snapped at you, worse than anything you've ever received, worse than the way he spoke to you after long nights at the office, worse even than the way he had yelled at you after losing one of the most important matches in his high school career.

Suddenly, you didn't feel like the love of his life anymore. Suddenly, you felt like a small whiny child being chastised by a righteous adult. Suddenly, all you felt was small and cold and drowning.

You couldn't find it in yourself to match Futakuchi's energy. When all you did was stand there and take how he berated you, something clicked inside of Futakuchi.

He realised what he was doing, how he was speaking to you. All you wanted was attention after weeks of being deprived and his first reaction was to snap at you, to yell at you as if you didn't understand? If you, the person who took every step in his life with him, in sync, the one and only partner he could ever have, didn't understand then who would?

He realised and he immediately softened. He took a step back, his hand ruffling his hair as he tried to explain that he didn't mean to, that he was just stressed at work, that everything seemed to pile on.

Instead of relaxing like he expected you to, you stayed hunched, your arms crossed, your back bowed, as if you were trying to stay as small as possible, as if you were trying to disappear in front of him.

His hands shot out as if they needed to hold on to you or else you would poof into thin air. You flinched, as if scared of him and, suddenly, he realised.

It wasn't as if you were because, really, you truly were scared of him.

You didn't let him touch you and, just like he feared, you were slowly fading away from him.

Except, instead of walking away, of telling him you wanted to stay at a friend's place, instead of rejecting him completely, you told him you wanted to but that you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You explained that you understood, that there was no one else in the world that understood him as much as you, that you loved him more than you loved anything else in the world.

You loved him enough to let yourself wilt waiting for him in a cold apartment, enough to let him spit and snarl and growl at you like he was a wolf and you were a willing bunny.

You loved him enough to let him drown you.

He realised then that he had a power over you that he never noticed. In that one small instance, he knew, that he didn't have to change because no matter how he neglected you or how he yelled at you, it didn't matter.

You would always come back to him like a devoted lover.

He was sure that thought was supposed to make him feel better, to calm him and reassure him and let him know that he could do what he wanted.

Instead, it set his face aflame, his body aching and hurting and set alight with a sense of despair. It hurt more than anything he had ever felt in his entire life. It was a pain that would've made him crumple and sob and scream but, instead, he held himself together, for you.

You loved him enough to be so utterly devoted to him and all he could do was return that with neglect and angst and sadness.

Futakchi moved to cup your cheek and, this time, you didn't push him away. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hands soft and reverent like they used to be before this all started.

He muttered promises against your lips, each one of them sincere and adoring and reverent.

Despite everything, like you always did, you believed him.

[cowboycakes]

The Strategy

Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Reader

Synopsis: The forest was the last place you thought you'd find yourself infatuated with someone you barely knew - especially not your cocky prisoner.

Themes: angst, flirting, guilty love, big plot twist

Warnings: kissing and suggestive language, bullying / teasing, mentions of death, some anxious thinking, light alcohol and tobacco use, profanity. reader uses she/her pronouns. s4 spoilers.

Word Count: 5.7k

Anon (🐸)'s Request: Hi ! Can I request a Zeke x fem reader imagine/one-shot? Reader is a captain for the survey corp and long time veteran. She is really intelligent and is a strategist for the corp. They kind of hate each other but have a lot of chemistry but start bonding before the forest incident. Sorry if that isn't specific enough and too vague.

On occasion, you tended to be so logical that it ruined your life. There was no room in your mind for daydreams, love, or speculation. Fate was false - most things in life were completely arbitrary. That was the way you’d trained yourself to think. Not because you enjoyed it, only because it made it easier to survive.

This way of thinking is a result of your lifetime with the Corps. The award of a Captain’s position was the fruit of your labor, along with being revered for your ability to strategize. Many of the most important and most successful missions in recent years had been planned by you. But, the bubbling tension and division within the walls have thrown you for a loop. You’ve attempted to collaborate with Levi in recent weeks to try to pin down any conflict - anything you could do to calm the storm and keep your comrades safe would be worth it.

Instead of being able to act on whatever plans you’d developed, you’d been assigned to the most bizarre mission you’d ever taken part in: babysitting some man in his late twenties, all the way out in a forest filled with towering redwood trees. This mystery man was apparently not to be trusted, he was Eren’s half-brother from Marley and the holder of the beast titan. He’d done tremendous damage to the Corps in the past. His intentions and motives now remained mysterious, but one thing was for sure: his loyalties lied with Eren, not with the Scouts.

You were disappointed and terrified all together. Being so far away from the action left both you and your comrades vulnerable. But, Levi insisted you needed to confine this man far away from society. And although you were a captain, whatever Levi says usually goes.

The forest wasn’t so bad upon your arrival. Damp pine needles that covered the ground coated the air in a sweet aroma. The blanket of shade given off by the trees was temperate in the summer heat. The tents you’d been provided with were sturdy, insulated, and a dark shade of green that complimented the woodland setting. Above all, you were accompanied by 30 trained soldiers and a shipment of high-quality Marleyan wine.

The entirety of your first day in the forest was spent unpacking and setting up your living quarters. Stars now peak through the canopy of branches above, and a cold breeze ruffles the millions of leaves surrounding the camp. The air was chilly despite the heat that blazed earlier in the day.

The cot you’d assembled in your tent is comfortable enough, but the grey sheets you’d just stretched over the mattress still smell stale. You conjure up the idea of going for a walk while your blankets air out. The musty scent sure wasn’t going to lull you to sleep.

Your timid feet crunch on the ground through the forest for a while, away from the camp. The mist of your breath is tangible in front of your face - the light jacket you’d brought wasn’t going to be enough to keep your goosebumps at bay. It’s much more intimidating out here at night than you’d expected. Darkness brought mystery to the gaps between each tree. And the sheer amount of trees beyond the campsite is dizzying, their height is even more difficult to process. They add a sense of company to your walk, although you can’t tell if they are peaceful observers or prying sets of eyes.

It’s surprisingly quiet out here, no animal or human alike made noise at this hour. The silence leads you to pick up on the echo of a fire crackling somewhere. You’re suddenly a bit excited - you’d figured everyone would have gone to sleep by now.

You spot a comforting orange glow coming from the other side of the distant campsite, offset from the main groups of tents. Maybe someone else’s sheets needed time to breathe too.

The light grows brighter as you trek towards it. It leads you to a humble tent and a fire pit with two rusted metal chairs placed on either side of it. In one of the chairs sits a blonde man in a white shirt, with his back turned to you. He has his nose in a poorly bound book - its stitching is frayed and the pages look wilted, as if they’d been dropped in water before. A cigarette smolders in his free hand.

Your feet crunch into the ground a little harder as you approach in an attempt to avoid startling him. The man looks up to you once you’re finally facing each other. His face is foreign to you. Round glasses on his nose reflect a golden luster from the fire in front of him, blurring your view of his grey eyes slightly. Blonde waves are parted down the middle of his head, tousled a bit too perfectly. He has a well groomed beard that compliments his structured face and strong biceps that peak through his shirt sleeves.

He’s handsome, classy, alluring. Nothing like the usual around here.

“Hi, I’m Captain Reader,” you say with a small smile.

“Reader, huh?” he says, folding his book closed, “I think I’ve heard that name somehow…”

“Oh, possibly. I’m a long time captain. I do a lot of strategic work as well, and it's not exclusive to the Scouts. So my name tends to get around.”

“My name is Zeke,” he replies, returning the smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Zeke… did that sound familiar? You couldn’t decide.

You take a seat in the other chair across from the fire, warming your hands once you get comfortable. The embers lit in front of you are only a sad little bundle of sticks, clearly in need of more fuel. Zeke rolls his shoulders back as his eyes focus in on your frame. His attention is definitely not on the book anymore. His body language almost tells you he likes what he sees - he’s open, relaxed, observant. The cigarette has gone a bit limp in between his fingers.

You’re guilty of curiosity too, as your eyes prod his figure. There must be something in the air.

“What’s that book about?” you question, “it looks… well loved.”

He chuckles. “It's a little fantasy piece, actually. Not something I’d usually find myself reading, but I’ve read it a hundred times now. It’s about a maiden who buys her way to heaven, and a prince who rescues her from the consequences.”

“Interesting…” you say, “how does someone buy their way to heaven?”

“With something far more valuable than money,” he explains. You wonder if the sultry undertone he added was all part of your imagination. It was a little grumbly, suggestive.

“And what would that be?”

“Not sure, still trying to figure that one out,” he remarks, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. Light from the fire gets trapped in the smoke and travels up through the dark air as he exhales.

“You’re gonna ruin your lungs if you keep doing that, Zeke,” you joke.

He chuckles again, “So she’s pretty and caring. Guess I’ve lucked out.”

You feel a little heat rush to your cheeks. This innocent, flattered, puppy-love feeling: you hadn’t felt this way in years. You really wish you could just brush it off, it wasn’t something you were used to. Instead, you let your mind wander for only a second - it would be a nice pastime to have a summer fling with someone in this forest. You were more than tempted. It would get your mind off of the impending doom you tended to feel in chaotic times like this. You could live a bit for once.

And the beautiful man in front of you could be the perfect candidate.

“Hmm, it’s convenient that you think so,” you reply, crossing your legs.

“Convenient? For you, or for me?” he questions. “Looking to get something out of your time in this forest, Captain?”

You pause. He’s bold. “Depends… what about you?”

Zeke lifts the book up slightly in his hand and flips it over to examine its withered back cover, “Not sure, maybe I’ll finally experience whatever this book is talking about. Something so desirable I could cheat my way into heaven with it.”

No. His tone wasn’t your imagination.

“I have a feeling you’ll end up being the prince that has to deal with someone else’s fuck-ups instead,” you laugh.

His lips curl back into a smile as he starts to laugh with you. “Doesn’t sound out of character,” he replies.

His pretty blonde hair ruffles a bit as the wind picks up. And shit - is that wind bitter. The miniscule fire wasn’t doing it’s best to warm you. You notice your limbs are shaking, too much for your jacket and hands to conceal. Zeke surely notices too, he’s been eyeing you this whole time after all.

“Here,” Zeke offers, pulling a thick corduroy coat off of the back of his chair.

“No, no. You should wear that. I’m alright,” you protest, rubbing your hands over your arms vigorously to try to stop your shuddering.

Zeke gets up from his seat anyway and crosses the gap between the two of you. You look up to him once he’s standing over you, embarrassed. Two big hands drape the hefty fabric over your shivering shoulders. You immediately feel warmer as your body heat gets trapped underneath it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, pulling on the jacket to adjust it on your arms.

The wind still howls as Zeke goes back to his metal chair. He sits down casually, taking another drag of his cigarette as his eyes move back to you, lingering on you gently -- like he feels satisfied or nostalgic. Your features looked so beautiful in the faint orange light of the fire, as the only focal point in his vision while darkness clouded everything behind you. He couldn’t help but stare.

“I do mean it,” he says as he exhales, “that you’re pretty.”

His words hang there for a moment. They wait for you on a hook, persuading you to take his bait. So he could reel you in.

“Trying to flatter your superiors huh? Well that’s one way to get what you want,” you retort.

“Who says you’re my superior, Captain Reader?” he jokes.

You laugh at him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, “but I’ve never seen you around before. Are you from another branch of the military?”

Zeke pauses, letting out a huff of air.

“You know, with a reputation like yours, one would think you’d know your enemies a little better.”

Your face drops from a smile that rested high on your cheeks to a shocked, open-mouthed glare. You’re frozen. Why didn’t you assume…

“You’re the other Jaeger…” you trail off.

Zeke brings the cigarette back to his mouth and flips his book back open in response.

You stare down into the fire, unsure of what to do or say next. You were mortified. Maybe saying nothing was the answer - you’d already dug yourself into a hole by flirting with your prisoner. And damn, did Zeke deliberately let you. He knew who you were. He wanted you to feel this way. He led you on.

Who was supposed to deal with your fuck-up now?

You stand up, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“Goodnight, Zeke,” you say quietly, dropping his coat onto the chair.

You move quickly through the dark air that nips at your ears, back to the safety of your tent.

***

“Don’t go off and be an idiot,” Levi warns.

You assure him you wouldn’t, pouring a big glass of wine for yourself with a smile spread across your face.

Levi had been more than reluctant to let your soldiers bring this wine, but you’d done some convincing. This forest had been boring for the past few days. Laughing over a few drinks would be a sure way to liven up the crowd. You were just excited to finally get a taste of this Marleyan wine that everyone had been raving about.

You hadn’t seen Zeke since that night three days ago. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get him off of your mind. Partially because you were horribly embarrassed. And angry. You couldn’t believe you’d walked into his trap like that, practically offering yourself to him as a subject to humiliate. You were sure he’d enjoyed every bit of it.

And the other reason you couldn’t get him off of your mind…

He was a bit gorgeous. And you loved the way he talked to you, how it made you feel. Even though your time with him was so short, you secretly wanted more. You cursed yourself for thinking about him like that after all the harm he’d done to the Scouts. All of it made you sick - it was wrong, it made you feel like you had dirt on your hands.

But what if you tried to talk with him again? Just to sort your feelings out. Then you could be free to forget about him. This time, you would control yourself. You knew who he was now, and what it meant to be speaking with him. You were allowed to speak with him, you just had to be careful if you were going to proceed. None of you could trust him.

But the curiosity was still killing you.

You swirl the wine around in your glass as you dig the toe of your leather boot into the soft ground - trying to decide.

Anxious feet move below you before your mind is ready for them to, back toward Zeke’s tent.

It was nearly sundown, and beautiful purple rays beam through the forest, shattered from full display by hundreds of tree branches. The air was warm tonight, so there would be no need for Zeke's jacket again.

Once you see his camp, you notice he’s back in the same chair again. He’s still reading that torn-up book, this time with a pencil in his hand. He scratches little notes onto the pages here and there.

He looks up once he hears the familiar sound of your boots. The eyes behind his circular lenses scan you, lingering on the glass in your hand. You wonder if you should have brought him one.

“Hi, Zeke,” you say softly, making your way to the chair across the empty fire pit.

“Captain, thought I’d never see you again,” he says, a false excitement stuck in his voice.

You keep swirling your wine around in its glass, waiting for it to air out so you could take your first sip. It smelled divine, so fruity and fresh, in contrast with the earthy smells that the forest gave off.

Zeke looks up to you over the top rims of his glasses, unimpressed. You raise your glass to your lips, almost ready to tilt it back and let the chilled, burgundy wine rush into your mouth.

“That’s sluggish if you,” he remarks.

You pause, letting the cool glass linger on your bottom lip.

“What?” you bark, pulling the glass from your mouth.

He looks back down at his book, “No Marleyan strategist - or any good strategist for that matter - would drink in front of their adversaries. It makes you look sluggish.”

You just gape at him. He’s probably having fun while trying to irritate you. Two could play.

You put your arm out in front of you and flip the glass over, pouring the wine onto the wet dirt below. It splashes up onto your boots as it streams from your cup and runs down to spill into the fire pit.

“Happy?” you grumble, tossing the glass into the dirt. “Probably shitty wine anyway, considering you two come from the same place.”

He snickers, “Not quite. I was hoping you’d just hand the glass over.”

You regretted trying to talk to him now.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting up from your spot and turning back toward your tent. “Keep scribbling in your stupid book.”

“Actually, I was writing the two of us into the story.”

You’re sure he’s just pushing your buttons further - trying to lay another trap for you and capture you in another awkward moment of infatuation. But his words cause you to pause in your steps for a second.

“And what are we doing?” you question.

“We just cheated our way into heaven.”

“Creep,” you grumble before continuing to walk.

***

You hadn’t gone near that wine since. You had a grudge against it now, it completely ruined the mood last time you saw Zeke. But it had sure lightened the mood for everyone else, probably a little too much. Everyone except for Levi, of course. It was nearly impossible to change his mood.

In the meantime, you were still victim to unwarranted thoughts of Zeke in your head. This almost felt like a schoolgirl crush, how he bullied you a bit. This was more like torment, actually, considering you were trying to get him out of your head. But it didn’t change the fact that you liked what you saw.

Lately he was always reading that book and jotting down notes in it. And he rarely left his little corner of the campsite except for when he went on walks sometimes. You’d admire him from afar, careful never to let your eyes meet with his.

You’d take the images of him now burned into your brain back to bed with you, and stare up to the dark tent ceiling above. You’d fantasize about what it would have been like to meet Zeke in another life. One where the two of you weren’t enemies trapped on two different sides of a war. Where you didn’t feel guilt for your interest in someone who had jeopardized you and your comrades. Where the two of you were free to know one another.

You couldn’t pinpoint what kept driving this involuntary curiosity you felt towards him. It was tiring, honestly. But you wanted his company. Maybe you just wanted company in general -- it's not like you got along with him or anything.

Should you fix that? Did you even want to fix that? Would a peace offering be doing too much?

He did mention he wanted your glass of wine…

So one night, you cave. And you march over to the wooden cart that held dozens of cases of wine, an empty glass for Zeke in hand. You’re shocked to see only four measly bottles remain, laying on their sides in the only wooden case left. You could have sworn the shipment was full only a few days ago, but this camp had been set up for weeks now. Everyone here must be just as bored as you were, and several times more thirsty.

You pry open a cork and pour a few inches of wine into the glass, stopping to waft the crisp aroma into your nose. The air tonight was crisp too, it was cooler than it had been in recent days. You were adamant about remembering a jacket this time. The journey to Zeke’s tent feels long under the moonless sky. Hesitancy, followed by regret, pools into your brain as the dim light from his campfire comes into view.

Grow some balls, you’re convincing yourself that all of this means more than it really does. You’re bringing him a glass of wine for God’s sake.

There’s still time to turn around though… you could just finish the glass on your own. Out of range for him to bully you for it.

But he’s sitting there so prettily. He has his boots up on the rocks surrounding the fire pit, careful not to burn their soles in the flames. His blonde locks are pushed back slightly, giving you more room to look at his smooth face. And he’s certainly not busy, just reading his old book. Maybe he still had some compliments left for you despite all the bickering you two had done. Maybe he-

“Haven’t tried any of that ‘shitty’ wine yet, have you?” he questions. You hadn’t even noticed how close you are to him now. You’d gotten lost in him on the way.

“No…” you grumble, “it's for you. A peace offering.”

You stick your hand out. He receives the glass, lifting it up to examine it before taking a big drink.

“Ah,” he breathes, clearly satisfied. “It’s disgusting, Captain. Really.”

You stifle a laugh. “Everyone else seems to think so too. It’s all nearly gone.”

“Hmm,” he says, taking another sip, “None for you, I guess. Might as well just let it run out.”

“I think I will,” you mock, turning away from him to go sit in your chair,

The sizable fire Zeke had put together tonight was quick to thaw the chills on your arms. You really didn’t need your jacket after all, and opted to lay it over the back of your chair. The two of you sit there in silence for a while, taking in each other’s presence, observing the dying light in the forest.

Zeke looks at you eventually. Your eyes instinctually dart away.

“What made you want to come see me again?” Zeke asks.

You frantically search for an answer. You need to be careful.

“Boredom,” you reply flatly.

“You think so?” His attitude is back to how it was the first night you’d met. He’s engaged, focused, yet comes off so casual laying back up against his seat like that. He enjoys toying with you, like a cat to its prey.

Be careful.

“Don’t like my answer or something?”

That wasn’t exactly careful.

“No. You’re just not being honest.” He breathes that last word out like he needs to get a rise out of you, then he nonchalantly takes another drink while he waits for you to respond. Your mouth is open the slightest bit; you’re nervous, angry. He’s in your head now. He was reading you like that overused book of his.

“Then what do you want to hear from me?” you question. There’s thankfully still a false calmness in your voice.

“Just the truth. It’s not that complicated.”

You were sweating in front of this fire now. What was the truth? That you were interested in him? That you wanted nothing to do with him?

Be honest.

“I guess I just like your company,” you admit. Your eyes fall to the rocks lining the fire pit.

***

The discussion became pleasant after that, surprisingly. You guess you just needed to own up to how you felt. Your admittance caused some of the anger and tension tugging between the two of you to subside. The conversation was calm, collected, bouncing around from subject to subject: from the book, to life in Marley, to life in Paradis, to your occupation, and back to the book. Most of it was uneventful, but you liked that. It made it easy to pretend you were talking to him on the first night again, before you found out who he really was.

You left his camp with a giddy smile on your face. You’re on your way back to your tent now, after saying your goodbyes to Zeke. It was late, and you needed to be up early to have an important conversation with Levi. And god forbid he found out about any of this business between you and Zeke. Even though nothing was serious, it would come off unprofessional. And rightfully so.

You’re so lost in thought by the time you’re opening your tent door that you didn’t realize your arms were cold. The jacket you brought was probably still hanging off the chair at Zekes fire pit. It would look suspicious if you left it there and one of the other soldiers happened to see it.

You go back quietly, careful not to let anyone hear your footsteps. A couple of scattered thoughts weave their way into your head on your journey - what if this was another ploy of his? An attempt to get you back where he wants you, this time late at night. But how could it be? You were the one who left your jacket there. If anything, this was your own attempt to lead yourself back to him. Did you want him that badly… deep down?

When you reach your chair, you find it to be empty. You check around its sides, back, and underside - no jacket in sight. Out of the corner of your eye, a sliver of light shows from under the tarp serving as Zeke’s tent door. He’d probably noticed it and taken it inside with him after you’d gone home.

Halfheartedly, you meander to the tent door. You tap on it once the limited glimmer of light from inside touches the toes of your boots.

“Zeke? Do you have my jacket?” you whisper, still flicking the tarp to get his attention.

No answer.

Cold air stings your exposed skin as a draft swoops down through the camp. You also were wary of any observers that happened to be out this late at night. There was no telling what it looked like you might be doing outside his tent at the moment. The more uncomfortable you became out here, the more impatient you got.

“Zeke!” you hiss, whipping your head around your shoulder to double check your surroundings.

Still nothing but silence on the other side. Had he fallen asleep already?

The urge to pull back the tent door hits you. It would only take a moment to retrieve the jacket, then you’d be on your way.

Once again, making this a bigger deal than it really is.

But that didn’t matter. It felt like a big deal. That’s what every situation that involved him felt like. A big, complicated, multidimensional deal.

Be careful.

That wasn’t the answer either. Being careful was a good tactic when it came to strategizing your next moves in war. It was sometimes rendered useless when dealing with love. This was out of your control. And that was ok. That was what compelled you toward him - the mystery, the rush.

Let go.

You grip the tarp, it crinkles under your stiff fingers as you pull it back. A rush of warm air hits you, along with the light of a few oil lamps. And Zeke… shirtless. Sitting on his unmade bed with your jacket in hand.

The sight of his sculpted body in front of you sets a nervous, unprepared spark off in you, causing you to shut the door fast and stumble inside. And all at once, there you were - back in Zeke’s grasp. You accepted that wanted to be there.

“My jacket... ” you say, staring hard at the fabric in his hands, trying to avoid eye contact with his bare chest.

He stands up in silence and comes to your side, raising the jacket up once he gets real close to you. Oh no, he’s draping it over your shoulders again, slowly this time around, taking his time to stare into your puppy dog eyes. Dammit - the hot cheeks, the butterflies, the embarrassment. All of it was back now, in an instant he had you feeling like puddy in his hands. The two of you stare at each other as his hands adjust the jacket around you, stopping to play with one of the buttons on the front.

“You’re forgetful,” he mumbles, still focused on the button on your chest. His tone is sweet and quiet, a small smile appears out of one corner of his mouth.

You weren’t breathing, or thinking. Just looking down innocently at the hand that was so close to you.

“I’m not… normally,” you say quietly.

Zeke’s hands move to grip each side of the front of your jacket gently. His eyes move up from the hands placed on your jacket, and back to you. To your lips. You part them at the realization, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat.

He shifts further in towards you, tugging on your jacket the slightest bit.

One cohesive thought rises up in the blankness of your brain. You want to kiss him.

The urge was mutual. Your lashes flutter against your cheeks a few times before you shut them, turning your head slightly to the right. Zeke follows your lead. You feel warm fingertips touch your chin and guide you to his soft pair of lips. His other hand abandons your jacket and comes down to meet your waist, slowly sliding to the small of your back. You melt into his touch, pulling yourself in closer. Chills go down your neck at the sensation of being in his arms, at his mercy. It feels so right, so warm and gentle. You want to keep going - so bad. You want him to hold you, touch you, kiss you harder.

But only for a moment.

You pull away once the guilt hits your core, gently touching your fingers to your lips.

Zeke stares at you, his eyes a bit wider than normal. His arms have gone limp at his sides without having you to occupy them any longer. You can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue, something that might save the situation and bring your lips back to his. You didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s wrong. This is all wrong,” you say, backing up into the tent door behind you.

You think of the war. You think of your duties. You think of who Zeke really is. Any fluttering in your stomach was gone now, instead it was filled by tinges of regret.

“You’re right. It is,” he responds. He walks back over to his bed and sits on the quilt ruffled at its end. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his head away from you. “I figured you’d be smart enough not to kiss back.”

You were almost too shocked to notice how much his words burned. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes squint at him a bit. Emotion courses through you as your mind crashes down from the high you were just on. You needed out of this tent.

You grip the tarp resting against your back and fling it open. You felt lost, speed walking away from Zeke’s tent and toward the center of camp. The night concealed the confusion on your face, but only for a minute. A fire glows near your tent, lighting up your surroundings - its Levi. You try your best to avoid him, changing your course to avoid his eyes.

“What are you doing awake, Reader,” Levi questions dully.

You don’t let out any response other than stopping in your tracks.

“Is everything... alright?”

“I just,” you search for anything appropriate, any excuse for your apparent distress, “don’t like being in this forest.”

You both go quiet for a moment, listening to the snapping of thin branches in the fire.

Levi breaks the silence, “That’s actually what I was going to mention to you tomorrow. The MP’s need you for something. I was going to give you the choice to go back, or stay here.”

Going back. Maybe that was the right answer you’d tried so hard to find.

***

You shove all of your belongings into your suitcase early the next morning. It didn’t take you long to decide you needed to abandon this mission. Nothing between you and Zeke would ever work out, and your feelings for him were only a burden to everyone here, and yourself.

You lug your bags to a horse and cart that had been set up for you, tossing them over the cart’s walls and into the back.

Climbing up into the front seat, you notice a gift waiting for you - that overused book. Zeke must have finally figured out how to fake his way into heaven.

You decided to read some of it on the way back.

Zeke sure had written his own story inside of it. All of the notes he’d scribbled in the margins were in another language, presumably from Marley - a secret story you’d never get to understand. Only for him to know.

***

You heard news of what happened in the forest a few days after you arrived home. You couldn’t process it at first, instead you just sat in disbelief and denial. Then the ‘what ifs’ set in. What if you had stayed? Maybe you could have stopped Zeke from doing all the damage he decided to cause. The tear-filled anger set in after that.

There was only one chapter of his book left now. You felt disgusted looking at it, a reminder of everything you’d felt for him. You needed to sit yourself down and get through it so you could finally throw it away - and finally forget about him forever.

You come to the final page. It was intended to be blank, a sort of protectant between the ink on the last page and the back cover. But instead, there’s a penciled in note. From Zeke.

His writing in your language was messy and shaky. You assumed he could read in your language, but may not be practiced in writing in it. This was probably the first message he’d ever written in it. All for you.

—

Dear Captain Reader,

I tend to avoid feeling guilty for much. I probably won’t feel guilty for everything I’m about to do to your soldiers in this forest.

I did feel guilty, however, when I saw your beautiful face that night you found me alone in the forest. And then I realized you were caring, brilliant, and a strategist that was far smarter than I was.

Well, this was my attempt at strategizing.

Pulling you in and then pushing you away. I hoped the guilt and confusion would make you leave. Make you think you were unfit for the assignment, too distracted by me. Heartbroken, even. Anything to get you out of here.

Now, I’m not too sure there will be anyone to rescue you. I won’t be able to again. Take care of yourself. Stay sharp.

I hope you enjoyed the book. I was really never a fan of the ending.

Zeke

—

Author's Note:

Dear anon: You gave me a lottt of free rein with this one, so I hope it was ok ●﹏● (and not too angsty and complicated lol. You said they kinda hate each other but theres chemistry and I just ran with it. Oopsies.) This was one of my favorite fics to write, ever, I think! I had a lot of fun with the dialogue especially. Thanks so much for the request, and thanks to everyone else for reading! Lots of love - Shep :)

[iamdeku]

Positions: Prohero!Deku x Reader

I’ve been working on this little drabble for a while, haha. I just wanted to write something really cute and domestic. I hope you guys like this!

Warnings: nudity (non-sexual), mentions of kids/pregnancy

Dating a pro-hero could be taxing, to say the least. That was what everyone had told you when you and Izuku had first gotten together. They had warned you of the unpredictable hours, the nightmares, the trauma. They had said he would be physically unavailable at best, emotionally unavailable at worst. You had ignored all of that, though, and every day you were glad you did.

Dating Izuku had never been anything but a joy, a privilege even. He was one of the kindest souls you had ever met. His work only seemed to strengthen that side of him, accenting his willingness to help others, always with a smile on his face. He never made you feel second best to anything or anyone. In fact, you often felt like he did more for you than you did for him, which was what brought you here.

You’re pulling out all the stops tonight, spinning around your kitchen in your pretty pink over the knee socks that always made you glide across the floor, one of Izuku’s baby blue hoodies tossed over your head and falling far enough to be a dress, negating any need for pants. You had chicken katsu going on the stove, and you were making some tea to go with it. In the other room, you had made the bed with freshly washed sheets, still a little warm from the dryer, and an array of bath salts and bubble baths set up for selection.

Your entire body tenses when you hear the jangle of the keys in the lock, rising up onto your tiptoes in your excitement. You slip at least twice as you dash for the door and the man on his way through it, and you should have bit the dust once except for the arms wrapping around you now.

“Baby, you’re slipping all over the place. You know you can’t run in these.” His laughter hits your ear warm and sweet, body close from the way he’s holding you up. “What’s got you in such a hurry? We have all night.”

You pull back to look at him, smile spreading across your face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You hold his face between your hands, used to how fragile they looked compared to his broad strength. You brush your thumb across his cheekbone, where a bruise is painted, red at the center but blossoming out to a deep purple, nearly black. You lean forward and press a gentle kiss to it.

“You work too hard.” You sigh, letting your eyes close and lashes flutter over his stained skin. “Do you want dinner or a bath first?”

“Whatever you want.” The answer is immediate, instinctive.

You had seen this coming. You had prepared for it, in fact.

“Nope. Tonight is about you. That’s what I want, and I’m not letting you argue with me. C’mon, we should get you changed out of your costume.”

He lets you drag him back to the bedroom, hands laced together with his. Slowly, you peel him out of his hero costume, the movements routine and your hands gentle as you unveil new bruises. Most of the blood and gunk on him seems to be from other people, hopefully the villains, but you don’t ask. He’ll tell you if he wants to, and he does when he sees the way you pause on a patch of his uniform stuck to his skin from dried blood.

“It was a good night,” he reassures you. “We got them, and everybody is okay.”

“Good.” You nod. “You hungry?”

He smiles down at you. You’ve gently pushed him back onto the bed now that you’ve gotten the top half of his suit off, your navy blue sheets contrasting the green of his hair as he lays back to stretch while you finish undressing him.

“Yeah. It smells good. Chicken katsu?” He leans forward, resting his cheek in his palm.

“Yeah.” You pull his boots off his feet, then shuck of the rest of the costume.

You stand up, knees flushed from the coldness of the hardwood floor, already reaching for his favorite pair of sweats and an old, soft All Might shirt. You let him dress himself as you take his costume to the laundry room, although the damage done to it is likely beyond you. Straight to support team, then.

When you turn to leave the room, his body is stretched across the doorframe, filling it up. You take a moment to let yourself be breathless at the sight of him. It’s not that you forget how beautiful he is, but more that nothing could possibly prepare you for the sight of him, especially not just casually out of nowhere like this. 

“Dinner?” He asks.

“Thought you might want that before a bath.” 

That was a lie. You knew he would want dinner before a bath when you heard his stomach growl about 5 minutes after he walked in the door. Not that he would admit to that, silly boy.

You move to walk past him into the kitchen, but he catches you around the waist, nose skimming across the skin of your neck as he leans forward. He looks you up and down, bright green eyes soaking you up.

“You look so pretty,” he mumbles.

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, leaning into his touch. He brushes his lips against your jaw, just beneath your ear.

“My pretty girl.” He pulls you flush against him, pushing a strand of your hair back. “Gonna drive me crazy.”

“I know what you’re doing,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Oh? What am I doing?”

He plays innocent, but you see the look in his eyes.

“You’re trying to distract me from taking care of you. Not going to happen, pretty boy.”

You slip out of his embrace, throwing a teasing glance his way over your shoulder as you head towards the kitchen, swaying your hips perhaps a little more than was strictly necessary.

“Maybe I just think you look really good in my clothes,” he suggests, following you. “Hard to resist.”

You hum mindlessly, a grin playing on your lips as you reach up into the cabinets to pull out an All Might themed bowl for him and a more traditional choice for yourself. You put rice in both of the bowls, doubling the portions for him, and serve the chicken.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Izuku grows more serious from where he sits at your kitchen table, his chair scuffed and comfortable with age, face lit up and golden in the warmth of your kitchen.

“Well, somebody has to feed my big strong hero, and it better not be any other girl,” you respond lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t want any other girl. Not when I have the best one in the world right here.”

You can’t help but blush as you start in on the food. Deku eats like a starving man, and he has for as long as you’ve known him, except when he’s upset. It gives you almost no time to admire him as you try to keep up, but you still try to get as much of him as you can, always afraid that he’s too good to be true. Worried of the moment he’ll disappear on you.

“I can feel you watching.” He says when he’s finished.

You just roll your eyes, still eating despite your best efforts. He’s called you out on it a million times before. You stopped being embarrassed a long time ago.

You two sit in silence until you finish, but it’s comfortable, the sort of silence that settles down when one of you is tired and the other is pleasantly content, or when maybe you’re both a little bit of each. He speaks up when you take the dishes to place them in the sink.

“You know, you would make a good Mom.” His eyes are glazed over in thought, obviously somewhere else.

“You think so?” You asked quietly, frozen at the kitchen sink.

“Yeah. We would have pretty babies too,” he muses.

“Yeah?” You turn around, leaning your back against the sink.

“Uh huh. Can see it now.” A distant smile pulls the corners of his mouth up. “Our little babies calling you Mommy.”

You cross the kitchen table, settling down into his lap. Your arms loop effortlessly over his broad shoulders, so used to the motion.

“Tell me about it,” you say.

“Wanna buy you a house,” he says, burying his face in the crook of your neck in the way he always does when he’s tired down to his bones. “And a ring. A ring as pretty as you are. I want to have so many babies with you. Have all these kids running around the house, and I want them to all look just as pretty as their Mommy.”

“That sounds perfect.” You run your fingers through his soft curls, body intertwined so closely with his you feel his lashes against your shoulder when he blinks sharply.

“Did you say something about a bath earlier, or did I imagine that?” He asks, voice confused with his exhaustion.

You giggle. “I did actually mention a bath.”

“That sounds nice.” 

He stands, picking you up even now, as tired as he is.

“Izuku!” You squeal. “Put me down!”

“Nope, sorry princess. We’re gonna go take a bath.”

He’s all business as he carries you to the bathroom, plopping you down on the edge of the tub. You beat him to the faucet though, determined to keep your hold on the night and keep taking care of him.

“What bath salts do you want?”

He sits down on the floor beside you, back leaning against the tub and cheek pressed to your thigh as he sighs deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“Whatever you use. Wanna smell like you. You smell good.”

You follow his instructions, setting the bath up with all of your favorites as he peppers the outside of your thigh with kisses. Your hands never shake, the movements practiced from all the years you’ve spent making baths for yourself and later, yourself and Izuku. When you’re finished, you both slide into the bathtub.

You take your time, washing his hair gently. You’re just as careful with the washcloth, paying attention to every part of his body, making sure not to miss a speck of blood or a smudge of dirt. You’re dedicated to your work and unconcerned with your own cleanliness, though you do briefly wash up so you don’t get the sheets dirty.

You wrap him and yourself up in towels when you get out, the darkened water swirling down your drain.

“Somebody was messy today.”

“Sorry.” Izuku blushes, knowing you’ll have to clean the tub later.

“Don’t be. I’m proud of you. You work so hard to keep people safe.”

He smiles at you, and you can see in his eyes he’s woozy from tiredness. You pull him forward into you, holding him in your arms even as you drag him back into bed with you. He manages to crawl into his sweats before crawling under the covers, and you don’t bother to do anything but pop his sweater back on.

He rolls into you, already half asleep but still wrapping you up in his arms. “I meant all of that earlier, you know?”

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“I really do want to have a family with you. A home.” He presses a tired kiss to your temple.

“I know. I want that too, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, his tiredness contagious.

“I love you.” He wraps you up tighter if that’s at all possible. “To the moon. And to Saturn. And Pluto.”

You giggle a little, eyelids falling closed. “Love you too. To the moon and to Saturn and to Pluto.”

[rwbyinserts]

Hey there, I really like the quality of your posts and I hope request are open. Can't find where your rules are posted but if they are, could you do headcanons for how winter and raven would explain to their S/O about their maiden powers, and what it'd take for them to talk about it (bc we all know raven wouldn't wanna talk about it)

Absolutely! Odds are requests will remain open indefinitely unless I need to take a hiatus! Apologies about the difficulty in finding the rules, I didn’t realize I didn’t specify they were in the drop down menu! I’ll be sure to add that real quick now though. Thank you for your request and compliment! It means a lot to me! <3

-

Winter and Raven explaining to S/O about their maiden powers

Winter

You couldn’t blame Winter for being a bit distant after everything went down. She was never cold to you per se, but you could tell she was suffering. It was hard, seeing someone you looked up to and adored struggling, especially when before this she was such a beacon of strength and courage to you and many others. She was a natural leader, and seeing the way she seemingly fought with herself on what to do now tore at your heart.

You knew how she was. The idea of asking for help was going to be hard for her. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust you - she did, immensely. Even so, it was ingrained so deeply in her to keep moving forward no matter the cost, to not ask questions and to simply obey. Asking for help didn’t feel like an option she was allowed to have.

Now though, the leader she swore to follow was gone, along with everything she had been fighting so hard to protect. It had all crumbled around her, the hope that she was on the right path slipping through her fingers like a fine thread. The weight on her shoulders had only grown heavier and heavier, and it was becoming apparent to everyone who knew her. Especially you.

It surprised you when she asked you to visit with her, alone. It wasn’t unusual in itself - the two of you had spent time together alone before. It was unusual because you hadn’t expected her to reach out to you after all that had happened, at least not so soon. She had been so deep in her own thoughts you had considered trying to reach out yourself in an attempt to help her in whatever way you could, but she beat you to the punch.

When you sit down beside her, she scarcely looks at you. The look in her eyes isn’t one of fear, merely concern. You wonder if it was obvious how much you were worried about her, and it becomes clear when she speaks to you that it had been.

“I… Apologize. For how I’ve been lately. I’ve had a lot to think about, I’m sure you know. About everything, including us.” Those words froze you to your spot, your blood running cold. You didn’t like those words at all. Was she going to push you away for good, just like that? Should you have reached out first after all?

“Please, don’t look so afraid. We’re not… I’m not ending this. I’m giving you a choice. I need to tell you everything. I just need you to listen, please.” Her tone was softer, a hint of guilt behind it. It was then that you realized what was going to happen. Everything you had missed up until this point was about to be explained to you, and it was. She told you about the maidens, about Penny and the power that had been bestowed upon her in that fateful battle. You hadn’t been inside that abyss to see it, and so up until now she had kept you in the dark. You could tell she felt bad, and she confirmed it.

“I’m sorry for not telling you after it happened. I still hesitated today. I worry that telling you will put you in danger, but… you need to know.” If you’re female, she’d even explain how if something were to happen to her, it may very well transfer to you. Of course, you don’t like that subject, but you understand why she told you. You’d need to know. “I understand if you don’t feel you can remain with me after this. I breached your trust. Regardless of my reasoning, I understand if you’re upset with me.”

Of course, even if you were a little hurt it would only be because you couldn’t have lifted that burden from her shoulders sooner. You could see even as she had spoken to you how some of the burden had been lifted just in finally revealing the secret to you, and you wished it could have happened before all that stress and worry had built up.

You’d assure her you’re willing to work through it, and though she still has some of that worry behind her eyes, there’s also a hint of relief. You’re someone she wants to protect, no matter what. She vows, even if to herself, that she will use her new power to do so.

Raven

It becomes clear to you that something is wrong with Raven rather quickly. Ever since she returned from Haven, she seemed… off. She had already told you that Vernal had been lost, and so the logical conclusion to you was that she was mourning even if she refused to outwardly show it.

This didn’t feel like mourning though. You were one of very few people to see the faintest hint of vulnerability from her before, even if only for a moment. She had confided in you in the past, even though she always framed it as seeking a second opinion when she would ultimately do what she thought was best. You never questioned it, simply offering advice where you could and following her lead.

Now though she seemed… distressed. Whereas normally she would be a bit snippier when she failed one of her self made missions, she seemed a bit more… subdued. It wasn’t something you were used to - no one in camp was. Unlike you though, many of the others didn’t have the heart to speak up about it. Vernal would have been the only one other than you, and with her gone, it was up to you.

So you decided to take matters into your own hands one night. You stand outside her tent, making sure no one else is in sight before you murmur her name softly under your breath, hoping it’ll be just loud enough for her to hear. You’re in luck, as she soon appears at the entrance and though her gaze seemed hardened as ever, you noticed the flicker of realization in her eyes as she regarded you before she allowed you entrance.

You offer to pour her tea before you sit with her, but she puts up a dismissive hand before doing it herself for the both of you. When you sit across from each other your eyes meet, both trying to judge the other to see just who will break the silence first.

“Well? What did you need?” It’s her, unsurprisingly, ever the dominant force even when she’s off her game. It’s almost enough to make you smile despite the situation. Almost.

You ask her straight up what’s on her mind. You’ve noticed her watching you more often, subdued or not, as if she wanted to talk to you but had no clue how to approach. She seems vaguely irritated when you bring this up, but it’s too late to take it back and reword it.

“Just what are you trying to insinuate? If I wanted to talk to you, I would. I don’t need your permission.” Her tone is sharp, but it lacks the usual venom of genuine anger. You know her well enough by now to know she’s bluffing.

You change tactics though, if only to avoid making her retreat further into her shell. You tell her how much you care and that you know she can handle herself, but you want to be there for her. Though you don’t tell her this, you know there’s something important she won’t tell you. She remains quiet for a moment, her gaze concentrated as she stares into your own, almost as if she were trying to judge something. Something you could never begin to know. When she finally speaks, you have to contain your shock, keeping your gaze as even as her own.

“When Vernal died… Her powers were transferred onto me. It was… a shock. I’m still trying to decide who to trust with that information.” Her tone was even, not betraying the lie she was telling. She was convincing, she always was - and she knew you would take her words at face value. Of course, you did. You were happy she could trust you enough to be the first. Or at least you assumed you were the first. You assured her the secret was safe with you and that you would support her in any way you could, and she offered you the faintest of smiles, one strictly reserved for you.

She knew you would, just as she would keep her own secrets safe, for both of your sakes she hoped.

[honeyxmonkey]

Whumptober Day 5: I've Got In My Red Ledger

Douxie gently cupped Nari’s frozen cheek, feeling the stinging burn of the ice practically eating away to his bone… but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He stared at Nari’s face which was permanently fixed in an agonized scream.

Douxie found that despite the horror that was right in front of him, he almost couldn’t believe it.

“No… Nari…” he choked out before a broken sob clawed its way out of his throat and he flung his arms around her tiny frozen form and let out a wail of grief and horror. He couldn’t protect her.

His friends found him clinging to her frozen form as it was crumbling and cracking right in his grip. They could see the frost crawling up his fingers and arms, spreading across his whole body, slowly freezing him right along with the little goddess. Even with Skrael dead, his magical ice was deadly and consuming.

Jim and Toby had to yank Douxie away from Nari before the ice could eat him whole. He fought them, screaming and thrashing in their grips the entire time, ice cold to the touch.

Aarrrgghh eventually had to grab him tight, holding the distraught wizard to his chest to keep him still. Douxie’s struggling began to cease and soon he was just sobbing against the troll’s stone chest.

He not only lost his sister, but also his familiar.

He didn’t stop crying but it dwindled down into shallow and quiet sobs and Aarrrgghh didn’t let him go.

The others stood around awkwardly while Douxie had a full on mental breakdown, not knowing what to say or do.

_______________________________

After too many minutes to count, Douxie had spent his tears, sinking to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself as he stared off into space. Aarrrgghh had a permanent hand on the wizard’s head to give him something in his grief. Just a reassurance to try and let him know that he wasn’t alone.

_______________________________

“Great gronka morka!” Blinky gasped, eyes wide with horror as he stared down at the newly revealed page. “The titans don’t need to unite with eachother, they need to unite with a Heartstone! That actually makes horrible sense!”

All eyes turned to Douxie, waiting for some sort of outburst again but he just looked up at Blinky, eyes red rimmed from tears, still crying silently. “So she died for nothing?” He asked, voice broken and quiet.

And that was it. No magical reaction to his emotions. He was too mentally and emotionally drained to spare an ounce of a magical outburst and that in of itself was terrifying for his friends because it was like this was his breaking point. He didn’t even seem to have the same urgency as they did about the situation. He was just… there, eyes distant and cloudy. He didn’t care anymore because everyone he loved and cared for more than anything in the entire world was gone. And what kind of world would it be without them?

He lost his best friend and his little sister all in the same day and he couldn’t handle it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that the world is ending because Archie and Nari are gone.

This was it for him. He’d lost everything.

The crushing weight of the reality that he couldn’t protect any of them is breaking him. The team realized that if they were going to finish this, Douxie wouldn’t be able to help.

"Aarrrgghh, you take him back to Barbara. We can't fight until we know he's safe." Jim instructed softly, glancing at his distraught friend with sorrow. "When this ends we can help him. But only once it ends."

_______________________________

They needed him for the ninth configuration.

"How do we know he'll come?" Toby asked desperately as Claire opened a shadow portal.

"We have to trust that he will." Claire said before jumping through.

She entered the castle to see that Barbara had been semi-successful in calming Douxie down. He wasn't crying anymore but he looked so… empty. Claire wasn't sure which she preferred.

The shadowmancer cleared her throat, catching their attention. "Douxie," she said softly. "We need you."

Claire half-expected him to say no, but to her surprise Douxie silently got up from his chair and nodded grimly, a sort of set determination coming to his eyes. He may not have been the most cheery but atleast he was going to help. She wasn't sure if they could do it without him.

Little did she know what Douxie planned to do.

_______________________________

Douxie spit blood onto the steaming rock, seeing Bellroc flinging his friends off the titan out of the corner of his eye. Jim was the only one left standing, holding Excalibur out at the demigod with rage, standing over Douxie protectively. Jim knew he was hurt… knew he couldn't fight anymore.

"The last remaining pieces of Merlin's legacy die together." Bellroc cackled. "How fitting."

Jim snarled at them. "Try it you little bastard."

Bellroc tilted their head to the side with an amused smile before flicking their wrist, sending the injured wizard flying towards the edge of the titan.

Jim shouted his name, running forward to catch him but he was just too late. Douxie fell a long way towards the ground, no one to catch him.

_______________________________

Despite his injuries, he managed to catch himself on an anti-gravity spell, crashing onto the hood of a car with enough force to dent it. Douxie felt his back flare with pain but he ignored it as he hauled himself up, seeing a flash of blue ignite from inside the titan.

The amulet.

Douxie staggered towards the rest of his friends, all of them watching the battle from the ground. A tugging feeling in his gut told him that Jim needed help and he wasn't about to let another one of his friends die. Not when he could instead.

Taking a deep breath, Douxie limped forward, scrolling through the runes on his vambrace. Coughing up a little more blood, he started to draw the sigil in the air, murmuring the words under his breath.

He held a hand out towards the magic nullifier, drawing on its energy, letting it flow into him. With another hand outstretched towards the titan, he twisted his hands, the glowing runes in front of him moving in sync like a giant clock.

He heard Blinky gasp behind him, and he should have guessed the old troll would have known what he was doing.

"Ultima Frecanta!" Douxie shouted before Blinky could even attempt to stop him.

An explosion welled within him, magic beyond his control pushing and clawing and tearing its way out. Douxie forced it to flood down his arms and towards his hands where it pooled out and shot towards the titan, engulfing the entire thing with a ragingly hot dome of magic that crashed and tore its way through the creature and through Bellroc, fighting and distracting the demigod to hopefully give Jim a chance at victory.

Douxie couldn't help the agonized scream that burst from his throat as the magic he was using tore him apart from the inside out. He felt every inch of him being consumed by it and it was excruciating. Magic too strong for him to handle pulsed and webbed its way through his veins, his heart, his lungs. His very bones began to crack and shatter like glass as the magic crashed over him like a wave.

Finally, when his body had nothing left to give, Douxie fell to the ground, twitching with convulsions from the power he'd just exuded. He couldn't breathe, his lungs feeling like pure fire. What was left of his magic pulsed beneath his veins, trying to repair his broken body but there was no coming back from this.

That was good… that was okay. He'd be with them soon. He'd see them again. That's what he wanted.

"Douxie!" Claire shouted with despair, running towards her teacher, dropping to her knees beside him. She shakily brought him into her arms, not caring about how scorchingly hot to the touch he was.

She could hear Jim making his way down from the titan, not knowing what had just happened. What was happening.

"You absolute idiot!" She seethed, sobs wracking her body. "What did you do that for?"

Douxie was gasping and choking for breath but he smiled all the same, looking like he was happy with the outcome. Oh for the love of God he was, wasn't he?

"Its okay Claire." He gasped, irises and pupils still glowing blue, even the blood vessels on the whites of his eyes were glowing blue. Every vein in his body was glowing blue, every part of him was taking on an aftermath shock of the magic overuse. His hair had turned white much like hers but every strand was devoid of the color it'd once had. He lay limp in her arms, blood… god even his blood was blue, bright and glowing like everything else that was left of him… dribbled from his mouth. "I can see them again."

"No, don't say that please." Claire begged, sobbing. "We can fix this. We can fix you Douxie. You'll be okay! You'll-"

"No." Douxie rasped. "Please let me go… I want to go…" He glanced over at Jim who was watching with absolute horror and guilt. He saw Jim's gaze turn to the chronosphere, which was laying forgotten on the cracked asphalt. "Don't you dare." He croaked out. "I need to see them again… don't bring me back… please."

Jim wanted to ignore him. He wanted to grab the damn thing and reverse time, stop all this from happening but he didn't. He just nodded at his friend grimly, joining Claire at his side instead. "Why?" He asked, voice cracking with tears.

"There's nothing left for me to do…" Douxie explained, glow beginning to fade and they all knew it was because he was dying. "You need to carry on, Jim. Lead them… keep protecting the earth. Promise?"

"I promise." Jim said with tears beginning to stream down his face. It was a promise he couldn't keep.

"Good…" Douxie said and slowly took in another breath, and when he exhaled it… he didn't breathe again.

_______________________________

Jim glanced over at Douxie as he sipped his coffee. He knew the wizard probably thought he was being weird, having been watching him for a few weeks now but Jim hardly cared. Watching his friend die had been too much and he knew the world wouldn't be able to get on without him.

Yes, he'd done the one thing Douxie had asked him not to but Jim didn't care. His friend was alive again and that was all that mattered.

The Trollhunter jumped when Douxie stopped in front of his table and angrily slammed something down in front of him. He stalked off without another word and Jim looked down at the paper to see two words that had been scrawled down angrily.

Alley. Now.

Jim sighed and stood up, precariously following where Douxie had gone. He wasn't surprised to find the wizard waiting for him with crossed arms and a rage in his eyes that would make any sane man run in terror. Jim, however, wasn't sane.

"How dare you?" Douxie hissed, hands forming into fists at his sides. "The one thing I specifically asked you not to do!"

"Douxie I-"

"You meddled with time again." Douxie growled. "You not only reset the timeline but you also erased the victory we all clawed out of hell to achieve!"

"You died!" Jim tried to defend himself but Douxie roughly shoved him against one of the brick walls, eyes flashing blue dangerously.

"I WANTED TO!" Douxie yelled, an arm pressed to Jim's throat. "Don't you get it!? I wanted to die! I lost everything! I just wanted to see them again! I wanted to finally rest!"

"And you expected us all to just move on!?" Jim demanded, shoving Douxie away.

"Yes!" Douxie looked like he could punch him. "That's exactly what I expected!"

"Well it's not what you're getting." Jim growled, standing his ground. "You can't ask me to stand by and let you get yourself killed. Because I don't know about you, but you're pretty fucking important to the rest of us." He stuck a finger in the wizard's face. "I dare you to do it again, Douxie. You can sacrifice yourself in battle all you want, Hisirdoux Casperan. Because I'll reset the timeline as many times as I need to to make sure all of my friends make it through alive."

Douxie sharply grabbed his wrist, shoving his hand away from his face. "You're messing with powers you don't understand, Jim."

"Maybe so," Jim agreed. "But I'd rather die a hundred deaths than watch you do this to yourself. The Trollhunter answers every call and you may not realize it, but you're calling pretty loudly."

Douxie glared at him, taking a step back. "This could turn into something even worse than the Arcane Order. Are you prepared to be responsible for that?"

Jim grit his teeth. "Absolutely I am. I'm not going to watch you die again."

"You can't save everyone."

"I can try."

[minutiaewritings]

but I knew you ⋆ draco malfoy

A/N- this is a draco malfoy imagine based off taylor swift’s song ‘cardigan’. 

Bold font is flashbacks, bold italic font are the lyrics! 

angst and i guess a little fluff here and there:)

Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Voldemort was back. There was no denying it, everyone knew it. Whether they wanted to believe it or not, he was back. Hogwarts no longer had that gleam of ‘safe and perfect’. 

“I saw him, Y/n, I did. I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Harry potter mumbled next to you as you sat with the gold trio, your fork slushing around the mashed potatoes on your plate. 

“I know harry, I believe you. I just wish Umbridge did, she’s such a git.” You scoffed, causing Ron to chuckle. The turkey leg the Weasley was holding to his lips caused grease and juice to spew onto his chin. You and Hermione shared a disgusted glance as you handed him a napkin.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you saw shining, blonde platinum hair enter the great hall. “I’ll be right back, I need to have a word with a certain Slytherin.” You excused yourself and shuffled towards Draco. 

You flattened your robes as you approached him. “Draco...”You said softly, reaching out to grab the pureblood’s arm. Draco jumped slightly, causing a frown to grow on your features. He had been so different lately, no longer wanting to sit with you at the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, no longer asking you to sit with him during meals. Dark bags had found a home under his normally bright, beautiful blue eyes. His eyes still caused your heart to falter but in a different way. When he looked at you, his expression was no longer soft and warm, it was cold and distant. As if he wasn’t actually there in front of you, his brain elsewhere. 

“Draco..” You said again, trying to get him to focus on you. 

“I have something to attend to.” Draco said coolly and turned, leaving you standing alone by the Slytherin table. Pansy gave you a sad smile, she was always weirdly nice to you. 

You returned a kind, small smile that you could muster. You turned on your heel and walked out of the great hall, your mind spinning and running through what the hell was happening.

Everything felt different. No, everything was different. And you knew it. 

-----

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight I, I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, right

You sat on your bed, thankful that your shared room was empty. You lied down and let out a sigh. What was happening with Draco, he’d been so different lately. He was normally so open with you, which was a surprise to everyone at first, especially you. But overtime you stopped wondering why he was so nice to you, you accepted it with grace and became close the Draco. You saw him differently than everyone else, you actually knew Draco. The real him. 

You remember your first of many Hogsmeade dates. 

It was spring time, the air felt clean and warm, inviting. You and Draco had just left the leaky caldron and had way too many butterbeers. 

“Watch your step here.” Draco said from behind you as you walked, stepping over a couple of fallen stones. You giggled softly, his warm breath fanned the back of your neck, causing goosebumps to fall in  it’s wake. You don’t remember why but you guys stopped for some reason, your conversation flowing with ease. There were giggles in the air and everything felt right. 

“When we get back to my common room, we need to dance.” Draco hummed, leaning against a lamppost. 

“The Draco Malfoy dances?” You teased.

“I do.” Draco said smugly, a playful grin erupted onto his lips, making your heart jump. “And I’m bloody good at it.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see those moves Malfoy.” You laughed loudly as Draco began dancing. It was awful to say the least, his moves were sloppy from his tipsy state but it was the smile on his face and the laughs that fell from his lips that made you smile widely. 

You began dancing with him, no music, just the sounds of the two of you laughing and teasing each other.

Draco took your hand, spinning you before pulling you flush against his chest. Your breath hitched, whether it was the alcohol in your system or your underlining feelings, your cheeks darkened. 

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Draco said quietly, your eyes widened. “Not now, but soon.” You were content with that answer, despite you wanting his seemingly soft, pink lips against your own at that very moment.

Draco had kept his word, kissing you hundreds of times after that night. Each kiss and touch made you feel like you were on fire, alive. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Tears pulled in the corner of your eyes as you the memories came crashing around you. You just wanted Draco to be okay again, something was definitely wrong. Your thoughts drifted to one specific memory.

You had just gotten out of detention with Umbridge. Her detentions were the worse. You had been laying in Draco’s bed, his arms around you as you cried silently. Draco accidentally brushed his fingers over the red, bleeding words on your hand, making you gasp slightly. “I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to.” He cooed in your ear softly. 

You offered the boy a sad smile and reassured him it wasn’t his fault. You and Draco sat in comfortable silence before he brought your injured hand to his lips. His breath fanned over the wounds, causing you to shudder. Draco eyed you carefully as he brought his lips to the wounds, kissing each letter that spelt out ‘I will obey authority.’

“Feels better already.” You laughed softly, causing Draco to smile widely. 

“In that case I’ll continue.” He grinned evilly before kissing down your neck, your eyes fluttering close as you embraced the warm feeling pulling inside your stomach. 

That Draco took care of you, making you feel good in more than one way. At the end of it all, you lied in each other’s arms again, whispering sweet nothings and basking in the scent of his sweater. 

“Y/N?” Hermione asked quietly as she looked at you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t even sure when she had entered your guys’ room.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You offered a small smile.

----

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

You sat on the edge of the windowsill, enjoying the night view from the astronomy tower. You snuggled into your sweater. It was one of Draco’s old sweater’s. You breathed in his scent, smoky and comforting. Merlin you missed him.

Suddenly something fell behind you, causing you to jump. You stood to your feet and say Draco standing at the doorway, the moonlight highlighting his features beautifully. “Draco.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you tried to steady your breathing. 

“Didn’t know anyone was up here, I’ll let you be.” He turned to leave. 

Before you could even think, your feet were moving and you were flying towards him. You wrapped your arms around his backside and whined softly. “Please. Please stay. I miss you.” You feel tears falling down your cheeks, leaking into Draco’s shirt.

Draco turned and pushed you away in one swift motion. You stumbled back, looking up at him with watery eyes. 

“Merlin, Y/N.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Draco, I miss you. So much, please. Don’t push me away, I know everything about you and-”

Draco scuffed, cutting you off. “You don’t know anything, Y/N. We went on a couple of dates and snogged a little and suddenly you think you know me?” 

Why was he being so cold? “B-But I-I...” Your throat began to sting and burn as you swallowed back tears. “But you said you cared about me? You were so sweet and you made me feel special.” You just wanted Draco to say he was sorry, and for him to tell you what was on his mind as you played with his hair. You wanted to hold him and tell him everything was gonna be okay, that you guys would get through this together. 

“Oh, bloody hell. Y/N, you would feel special if any git held open a door for you. You just want attention, affection from anyone who will give it to you. Frankly, I’m rather bored of you. You’re quite boring and needy. You’re so dense to reality it’s rid-”

“Stop!” You screamed, you didn’t care if anyone heard you. You backed up to the window and leaned against it for leverage. “You-You asshole! Why, why are you being such a dick?! I’ve done nothing but be kind and patient with you, yet you’re saying all this...” You shook your head as the tears began to fall more and more. “You don’t mean it. I know you don’t. I know how you feel about me.” 

“Oh? And how do I feel about you, Y/L/N?” Draco smirked. 

“You love me, I know you do.”

Draco laughed, but it seemed like a tired one. “Oh, that’s rich. Really is. I don’t love you. I never have and I never will, you were merely a new experience for me. And now I’m done.” You looked at him, you could practically feel your heart breaking. 

“Fuck you.” You seethed and pushed past him, running out of the room and towards your common room. Your shoes pounded loudly against the stone floor as you rand ran. When you finally reached your common room, you collapsed on one of the couches and began sobbing. The sobs racked through your body, causing you to shake and heave for air. How could someone be so cruel? So heartless? Did you even really know Draco like you thought you did? Of course you did, you told yourself. But maybe you didn’t, because that person you left in the astronomy tower wasn’t the boy you grew to love. 

At the beginning, before you had met Draco, you always felt unlovable. Like you weren’t ever good enough for anyone. It seemed that way at least, always being second or third even. Boys would always want to be with you sexually, but none of them ever seemed to want more, want to love you. 

That all changed when you met Draco, he had made you feel special. Really special. He had made your heart skip beats and made you smile more than you had ever before. He was caring, kind and warm. he was funny, and sucked at cooking. He loved to read but wouldn’t show anyone that side of him. 

Draco had opened his heart to you, and you gladly took it. Draco had made you feel like you were enough for once, you always seemed to be first in his eyes. 

But you guessed that wasn’t the truth. 

----

'Cause I knew you Steppin' on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain

You hadn’t spoken to Draco since everything. You didn’t want to, the thought of him caused your chest to rise and fall in an ungodly manner. You didn’t want to see him smile or laugh, the thought caused bile to rise intro the back of your throat. 

“Y/n.” Ron said, you turned to the red head and smiled. “Gonna miss you this summer! You sure you don’t want to join Harry and Hermione coming to the burrow? Mum won’t mind one more mouth to feed.” He cheesed. 

“My dad misses me, I promised I’d spend the whole summer with him. But I will see you next year.” You gave your best friend a tight hug. You hated lying to Ron, to any of them. But you wanted to spend this summer alone, wallowing in your heartbreak. Your dad wasn’t even gonna be home for half the summer. 

“Alright then, we’ll see you later Y/N! We’ve got to catch the first train.” Hermione said as she hugged you quickly, followed by Harry. 

You waved your best friends goodbye, leaving you alone at the train platform. Other classmates waited here and there, some getting on the next train that came. Unfortunately you were the last train of the day. 

Leaning against a wall, you read a book to past the time, occasionally glancing up to check your watch. When you looked up from your thick book, you saw him. He looked handsome as always as he stared ahead at the train coming into the station. It was the last train. 

“Shit.” You cursed, spilling your book into your carry on bag and standing to your feet. You watched as Malfoy checked his luggage, making sure he had evrything he need. He stood straight again, eyes sweeping his surrounding before you two made eye contact. You felt frozen in place, watching as Draco took his eyes off of you and walked straight onto the train. 

He had looked at you, genuinely looked at you. Your heart sank as you thought about his face, his expression. He had no sign of remorse, his eyes had nothing in them that hinted that he missed you as much as you missed him. He looked more annoyed than anything. That’s what hurt the most, he seemed to hate you now. You blinded back tears before grabbing your luggage and climbing onto the last train. 

----

I, I knew you Leavin' like a father Runnin' like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

You lied on your living room couch, flicking through the channels. You don’t know why you were so picky with what show too put on, it was just gonna be background noise anyways. That’s what it seemed like, everything was background noise now. Your thoughts were always filled with Draco’s eyes and his smile. 

Your friends all wrote you letters when you first arrived home for the summer, but you just never replied. You didn’t have the energy to. You didn’t have the energy for anything it seemed like. Your father was still away on business matters, thankfully. You knew if he saw you right now he would be worried, very worried. You looked tired, thinner than usual. You had the same bags under your eyes as Draco did. 

Merlin. Why did your stupid brain always go back to him. You sighed, rubbing your hand aimlessly over your eye lids. You were tired, but you hadn’t been able to sleep since Merlin knows when. Your dreams were plagued with happy memories and you hated it. You’d give an arm and a leg to have bloody nightmares instead.

Suddenly there was a pounding on the door. You looked over at the entry way, towards the front door. Your cat, Milo, sat on the headrest of the couch and stared at you curiously as you rose to your feet. You slowly made your way over to the door as the banging continued, now more loudly. You took a deep breath before opening the door, you genuinely didn’t know who it would be.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stood at your front door, a smiling Dobby at their feet. Unlike the house elf, your friends did not have a smile on their faces. “Bloody hell, Y/N!” Hermione yelled as she shoved you aside, storming into your house. She turned towards you as the boys followed silently. “Are you kidding me? Where have you been? What have you been doing this whole bloody summer!” You’d never seen her so angry, she’d never gone off this bad with Ron. Dobby tugged on the sleeves of your sweater, making you tear your eyes off of your friends. 

“Dobby is sorry, Dobby only wished to help his friends find Y/N. Dobby was worried for his friend.” Your body began to shake as you heard him speak. They cared about you, all of them And you had lied to them for your own selfish reasons. You felt guilt eating away at you slowly. 

The frizzy haired girl looked down at the kitchen table, picking up a stack of unopened letters. Their unopen letters. “What the hell. You couldn’t even bother to open them.” Ron chimed in. He looked more hurt than anything. His frowned deepened as he met your eye. Harry remained silent, staring sadly at you.

“I-I..” You began to speak but the words could barely make it past your dry, chapped lips. You licked then quickly and looked down at your feet. You could feel the tears beginning to well up at the ends of your eyes. Merlin you were tired of crying.

“Is your dad home?” Hermione asked, her voice was less harsh but still firm. You shook your head as your bottom lip quivered slightly.

“When will he be returning?” Ron asked. You looked past him and at the wall behind him. You had to tell the truth, you’d already upset them.

“Another 3 weeks.” You said flatly. “I haven’t seen him since the start of summer. I’ve been here alone.” You looked at Harry, watching his eyebrows raise in shock.

“You lied to us.” Harry said, his tone dripping with disappointment.

That. That look they were all wearing on their faces, the silent words they weren’t speaking. The tension in the air. That was it. You felt something crack inside you and you gasped. Tears poured down your cheeks as you began breathing heavily. It was as if you’d had felt every possible emotion ever, but all of the negative ones. You felt loss, anger, betrayal, guilt, anxious, hungry, tired and numb. You couldn’t handle the way legs trembled as you collapsed the ground.

Harry was the first to act, scooping into his arms. Hermione came to your side and rubbed you. Ron crouched in front of you, tears in his own eyes as he watched one of his best friends break in front of him. “Y/N. What’s going on? What is happening to you?” Ron said softly.

“Just breathe, it’s okay we can talk about this after you calm down. You’re okay, we’re not cross with you. I’m sorry I yelled.” Hermione sniffled, hugging you while your in Harry’s arms.

“Yeah, we aren’t mad at you. We’ve been worried, extremely worried. That's why we’re here. We care about you.” Harry’s voice boomed behind you. Hermione and Ron nodded quickly, agreeing with the Boy Who Lived. 

After you had calmed down and were able to make coherent sentences, you told them everything. You told them why you lied, you explained what happened with Draco. You apologized over and over, begging for your friends to forgive you for being so dumb. You were so dumb for not telling them, what were you thinking? You were so caught up in your head that you completely forgot you had amazing friends who meant the world to you. 

“It’s okay, I’m sorry that happened to you. You deserve nothing but the best. Draco is far from that.” Hermione whispered softly next to you. You and the golden trio were now in your room. Hermione lied next to you, Ron on your other side as Harry sat on your floor, rubbing a purring Milo. 

“I swear I’ll bash his stupid face in when I see him. No one deserves to hear those things he said to you, especially you.” Ron said as he rubbed your arm comfortingly.

“I..I just didn’t expect him to just leave like that. So abrupt and sudden.” You sighed. Draco had left your life just as fast as he entered it. Changing everything just the same. The pain you had felt when he left was the same pain you felt whenever your father would leave for his business trips. You remembered how you wrapped yourself around his tall frame, throwing a temper tantrum because you didn’t want him to leave you. But now it was Draco who had left, and you couldn’t wrap yourself around him to make him stay. 

The rest of the night was spent cuddling and talking with your friends, and drinking pumpkin juice. You were happy that they came, truly. You didn’t want wallow in your sorrow anymore. You wanted to be free from Draco and the memories. But that was easier said than done. 

----

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasing shadows in the grocery line

Returning back to Hogwarts wasn’t as hard as you anticipated. You’d spent the rest of your summer with the Weasley’s at the burrow. Molly was exhilarated when you showed up at her door with Ron, Hermione and Harry. The mother never failed to make you feel like you were apart of their big family. 

You’d just finished unpacking your trunks when Hermione waltzed into the room. “You’re lucky I’m letting you have the bed next to the window. I always claim it.” She hummed as she plopped down onto your bed.  You laughed loudly. 

“Well thank you, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” You giggled, sitting next to your best friend. 

She wore a wide grin as she grabbed your hands in her down. “I know how you can repay your debt.” She began as she watched you slowly. “Please tell me if you need anything, I’m serious. If you need to cry, let me know. If you need space, let me know. Just don’t push me away again. Any of us. We all love you, Y/N. You’re our best friend and we want to help you, that’s all.” 

You smiled and threw your arms around the girl’s shoulders. “I love you, Mimi. What would I do without you.” You whipped the few stray tears that had escaped your eyes. 

“Please don’t call me ‘Mimi’! I hate that childish name.” Hermione groaned before standing up. 

You laughed as you followed your friend out of the dorms and through the common room. You made your way through the halls and towards the great hall. Harry and Ron were at your table already, chowing down. Your stomach grumbled loudly as you took in all the food before you. The welcoming feasts were always the best. 

You sat down quickly, putting some shrimp and green beans onto your plate. “They have shrimp?” Ron asked, mouth full of bread. He eyed the shrimp on your plate before slowing reaching across the table. 

“Ronald! Get your own shrimp, you thief.” You swatted his sticky fingers away from your plate. Ron smiled and scooped some of the seafood onto his own plate. Everything felt right again, you felt happy. You didn’t have to force a smile or a laugh, it was so natural. You’d missed yourself, you missed feeling like yourself. 

A smoky, sweet scent wavered passed your nose, causing you to drop your fork onto your plate. You knew that smell all too well, it was him. You turned your head towards the smell and saw his blonde hair walking towards his table. You watched as he sat down with his Slytherin friends, laughing at something one of them had said. 

You frowned, turning forward again. The familiar feeling of dread began to fill your chest once more. You didn’t want to cry, you were so tired of crying. “Y/N.” Harry said softly, reaching across the table and touching your hand gently. “You’re gonna be okay, it stops hurting eventually.” You nodded at his words, thanking him. 

And you were okay, somewhat. Somedays were harder than others, but you could feel yourself healing minute by minute. The memories didn’t help though. You couldn’t go to the astronomy tower anymore, the memories too strong to ignore. You couldn’t sit under your favorite tree by the black lake anymore, memories of eating stolen pastries and chocolates with the boy who broke your heart. Hogwarts wasn’t the same without Draco by your side. You didn’t want it that way, but for now that was your truth, your reality. 

Draco had imbedded a place in your mind, whether it was a present thought or in the back of your head; he was always there. 

----

A/N- let me know how you guys like this one:) PART TWO IS UP YAY!!!

part two- What am I now?

[bi-demon-ium]

daemon au snippet(s) 5

just some really short unrelated and unconnected fluff snippets + oops some touch starved nicholas and self esteem issues!! they snuck in

She nods, and Nicholas holds her out to him. Violet looks at him with her head tipped to the side.

Milligan stared at him, and then her, and then him again.

“I don’t mind,” said Violet, but she looked less like she didn’t mind and more like she was eager, like she wanted to leap right into his arms.

“Neither of us do,” said Nicholas quietly.

Milligan had never touched Violet before, had gone out of his way not to. He knew it wasn’t done, even if he didn’t fully understand it in the visceral way everyone else seemed to without question.

Still, he understood enough to know the gravity of what he—they—were offering.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Violet turns into a butterfly, blue and vibrant, and then a stick bug on the windowsill, and then a frog, leaping up and into a little rat.

“Are you quite done,” said Nicholas, dry and amused, barely even looking up from his notes.

“No,” said Violet primly, and turned into a little monkey and stole his pen.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At some point, Milligan had just gotten used to Violet’s casual touching. It was no longer unusual, and he’d almost forgotten it had ever been taboo.

Sometimes, even, when they were out together, people assumed Violet might be his daemon, and that Nicholas’s was something small and hidden, or that they were married, which was a strange and completely unfounded assumption that Milligan had no idea what was the basis of whatsoever shut up.

Violet, however, soaked it up. Milligan hadn’t realized how little Nicholas touched his own daemon, and indeed, how odd that was, until he realized how much Violet touched him, and how much the others’ daemons interacted with their... humans? Milligan wasn’t sure of the term for it.

Whatever the case, Violet seemed to like perching on his shoulders—Nicholas claimed teasingly it was probably to feel tall, since Nicholas wasn’t tall enough for her anymore, and clearly she was playing favorites. Violet would laugh it off, but not leave her perch, whether she was a cat curled around his neck or a bird on his shoulder, careful not to cut him, or a butterfly delicately clinging to his hat.

(Milligan wasn’t sure about the implication that Violet—Nicholas’s daemon, his soul, his self—liked Milligan more than Nicholas. It was a blurring of the self, between person and daemon, that Milligan couldn’t quite remember or understand.)

Still, though. Despite all this, despite growing used to the warm and fuzzy and strange feeling of touching Violet, still careful and gentle each time, he didn’t quite expect it.

He’d been having a nightmare—a bad one. He couldn’t remember what about, he never could (a little girl’s voice, the flash of something golden and familiar and warm like a piece of him that had been missing, and his name, over and over, milligan milligan milligan please won’t you take me, take me there, milligan milligan? murky water and distant lights and a cold metal spire) but he woke up gasping.

He’d barely made a noise, only sitting up and his eyes snapping open, taking in his surroundings quickly. He’d fallen asleep on the couch. It was dark, and Nicholas had draped a blanket over him.

(He was still cold, though, although he didn’t know why he was shivering. He was missing something, multiple somethings, and he was alone.)

Breathing heavily, he let himself lean back again. He was safe. He was.

And then he’d heard the quiet padding of surprisingly heavy footsteps, and a fucking panther plodded into view. Violet blinked at him slowly, then got up to place her front paws on the couch, equally slowly, as if to give him time to push her off or ask her to go.

When he didn’t, she leaped gracefully up and curled on top of him like a weighted blanket or the world’s largest housecat.

She was big and warm and quiet, and it’s—it’s Nicholas, his friend, kind and safe and gentle, and Milligan can’t help but relax.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

He’s sick, hurt, and Violet seems fine, currently a hummingbird flitting about anxiously around his head, but Nicholas is sick and Milligan can only bring him water and medicine and cool cloths, and card fingers through his curls gently and hope it helps.

He’d wondered, with how much Violet seemed to crave affection (which was odd, he now knew) what that meant for Nicholas. He hadn’t wanted to push, but it seems the conclusion he’d tried to avoid coming to was now proving itself true.

He’s out of it, barely conscious, helpless and almost delirious, but he pushes into the touch like a cat pushing into an affectionate hand, practically keening, and—

Yes, it is quickly becoming clear that they are both rather touch-starved.

[lueurnotes]

Kissing Din

based on this ask

Din Djarin/Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: blood mention, canon-typical violence, sexual situations, nudity

a/n: been a minute since I posted!! hope everyone is doing well <3

In Hyperspace.

You were sleepily rocking Grogu against your chest in the co-pilot seat. The little one was already fast asleep, a small snore coming from the bundle of cloth. The cabin was dimmed, with the small blinking control lights glittering through your sleepy haze. Hyperspace washed over you in blue-white streaks of light that kept you from falling asleep. Despite the rest that pulled at you, there wasn’t anywhere else in the Maker-forsaken galaxy that you’d rather be. Safe next to your partner with his son fast asleep on your lap. 

It’s been an incredible journey together. Only a few short months yet so much has happened. Fixing up the Crest when you were all stranded on an icy, krykna-infested planet. Patching up Din whenever he returned, staggering into the hull. Giggling with the kid in your lap as he pushed your tools around. The memories you shared with this clan were few but your heart ached like it was forever. 

A rustling sound coming from the pilot’s chair got your attention. Hm?

“Close your eyes,” Din hushed. 

You obliged, more than happy to shut your sleepy eyes. Frequent hyperspace travel never did get easier for you.

The sound of his helmet hitting the metal floor of the cockpit nearly caused them to snap back open. 

“Din what are you—” 

A bare hand traced your face and you tried to fight the shudder that wracked your body. The warmest hands cradled your face upwards, a thumb brushing across your parted lips. The mere thought that Din was bare-faced inches from you... Your mind kicked into hyperdrive.

“Please,” the hushed whisper fell from his mouth, stilted breath ghosting right over your panting lips. The voice you seldom heard unmodulated was steeped with longing. One word spilled into a sentence.

“I want to kiss you.”

Your face broke into the sweetest grin he had ever seen. Really seen. 

“Like you even have to ask,” you shifted your body upwards, heart racing as your lips finally met. 

On Tatooine.

The blaring wind outside rocked the Razor Crest in it’s docked spot. Some dusty backwater place you could absolutely care less about. You spat out some lingering dust into the sink. 

The little one was dropped off at Peli’s, which meant whoever this bounty was they were high-risk for Din. 

Not a lot of people made that list.

Also meant that maybe you shouldn’t be blasting music throughout the ship, but kriff you were bored. It’s been a couple days at this point and you were told to “lay low”. Din didn’t say anything about music though. Plus, the Razor Crest was a well-fortified gal. Sure, a couple of bits flew off here and there and the hyperdrive could use some work, but whatever was in the armory could ward off any sane being in the galaxy.

 The muffled sound of your playlist could be heard through the refresher door, jumping to full clarity as you exited. You broke into a grin, hips swaying as you sang the words loud. I wonder if Tin Can ever sings? You burst out laughing at the thought of the sound of scratchy-modulated humming. The man hardly talks as it is. I’d bet the Maker that he has a worse voice than me. 

“Something funny?” 

Crap.

You yelped, in a certainly dignified manner, you hope, “Mando! Glad to see you back home.”

Home?! Oh my stars, I’m done for.

The slightest tilt of his helmet let you know that he definitely heard you. He continued, “If you’re done using the comms, can you let Karga know we’re on our way?”

“Or we could just, you know, not do that,” a voice strained.

You finally focused on the bounty that Mando dragged back, a young twi’lek man with deep, blue skin. He wore a similarly draped sand-colored cloth you saw the locals wore. Arm wrappings covered to his wrist where there was no dirt under his fingernails. Your eyes wandered to his shoes, a type of thicker sandal with cording to attach… Yep, definitely not from here. 

You smiled back at Mando, “Gotcha, Captain!”

“Wait!” The twi’lek croaked out, “Please, you can’t let him take me!” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, chancing a look at Mando’s visor as if to say can you believe this dude?

“Fine, I’ll bite.” You leaned on one hip, “Why should my partner and I not take in a bounty that we have been searching for I don’t know … ” you counted your fingers, “six days? Explain.” 

And here come the waterworks. 

He wailed, still on his knees next to Mando as he groveled, “It’s a false bounty! I was framed and I didn’t know what to do but run,” he looked at the carbonite cases, eyes growing larger when he saw their blank gazes frozen wide, “I swear to the Maker you’ve got it wrong!”

You bent down to his level, hushing him as you gently rested your hand on his cheek, “Are you implying that my partner is wrong? That he is being dishonest with me?”

Your wide eyes fell on Mando who stood unmoving. You turned back to the bounty before you could notice his hand clenching into a fist as you touched the other man. 

The twi’lek silently nodded, tears slipping over his hairless face.

“Well you’ll be sure to know that I loathe liars,” you nodded solemnly, “Especially if it’s to my face.”

He opened his mouth to say something, sharply gasping as a blue ring of light exited your blaster. He slumped over, mouth still gaping open.

You looked back up at Din, catching him as he adjusted his pants. Smirking, you stepped over the bounty until you were standing right in front of Din, feeling the heat of his body past the beskar. Extending your arms up, you rested your hands on his pauldrons, hand tracing the Mudhorn signet. Gingerly, you placed your palms up just under Din’s ice-cold helmet, eyes questioning. He gave a simple nod, bringing his gloved hands to wrap around yours. 

“I missed you,” you tilted the beskar upwards just the slightest amount, exposing a sliver of skin that was roughened with stubble. You tiptoed upwards and placed a short peck on him.

“It’s good to be home,” he gruffed out.

Keldabe

The overpowering scent of blood filled your mouth and nostrils. Tears tracked down your face as you let out a groan, spitting to the left of the man you just knocked out. You rolled over to lie back on the gritty pavement of the alleyway, uncaring of the unconscious man next to you. Somewhere down the dim alley, you could hear the distinct clang of metal against metal as Din fought the other bounty. The sound of a single blaster shot followed by a muffled yelp was the end of that. 

Never bring a vibroblade to a blaster fight. 

Your head pounded as you fought the urge to laugh out loud. You were lying next to a man that was set on killing you. You were pretty sure Din just shot the other one in the leg. And on top of that you were probably one wrong head turn from unconsciousness. 

Din’s shadow suddenly looming over you snapped the cord and you burst in giggles. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, immediately bending down to run his hands over any area that got impacted.

“You should have seen the other guy,” you winced as he grazed over your ribs. 

“Looking at him right now,” he deadpanned, “Good work. But I’d prefer if my partner would ask for help if they need it.”

He pulled you up, half resting in his lap as your legs splayed out in front of you. Instantly, you curled towards the cold beskar, seeking the warmth past it. 

“Hey Mando?”

“Yes?” He said lowly. 

“M’head hurts,” you slurred, “Kiss me better.”

You couldn’t see it, but he smiled under his helmet. Even with the absolute shit knocked out of you, you still wanted his attention. Kriffing adorable. 

He obliged, head tilting down so he could rest his helmet against your forehead. His eyes closed underneath, savoring the moment. 

“Ah,” you sighed, “Much better.”

“Are you using me as an ice pack?” 

“Maybe,” you whispered. 

He let out a breathy chuckle before drawing away, “Come on, let’s get back to the ship so we can take a nap.”

A kiss on the thigh

Several months ago when you first started co-piloting for Din, you never would have thought that the Razor Crest could be anything but damn near freezing.

This heat was something else. Panting breaths exhaling hot air. The blazing touch that seared across your thighs as Din hovered over you. Even your skin was starting to dampen in the cramped cot. 

“Cyar’ika,” he groaned, “Look at you.”

You opened your eyes, glancing down at yourself pressed so deliciously against Din. He was right there. Biting your lip, you tried to grind against him, only for Din to pinch at your thighs in warning. He continued his teasing, rubbing tenderly at your heated skin. 

Your back arched under his ministrations. Din was taking his time during the reprieve of a lengthy hyperspace pass, massaging enticingly at your thighs, touching everywhere but where you needed him most. 

Twelve hours. 

You moaned, “Kriff, stop teasing, Din.” You writhed under his hold, your thighs pinned down by just his hands. How does he feel so good without doing anything?

“No, I don’t think I’m going to stop.”

You gasped as he replaced his hands with his mouth, bending down to suck harshly at the inside of your thigh. Din licked at the sensitive spot, satisfied as he looked up at your panting face. 

“You look fucking pretty like this.”

A kiss on the hand 

"Glove,” you commanded, “now.”

Din put a hand on his hip. “You don’t need good luck right now,” He jutted his head toward the distant tree trunk that was today’s target, “Just hit it.”

You rolled your eyes, making sure he saw. Like, really saw. You swore up and down that he lacked actual peripheral vision because it was always you that caught the little one getting into places he absolutely should not be. The armory being one of them. You shuddered, finger flicking the safety on as you remembered that very eventful day.

“Focus,” he intoned, “You’re in your head.”

You cursed to yourself, flicking the safety back off. Raising your arm smoothly, your eyes followed the barrel of your blaster. 

Tree, damn it. Let me hit you.

Your eyes shut for a split second as you squeezed the trigger. A slight burst of energy shifted your hand half an inch. No sound of impact. 

You looked at the tree in dismay. 

The stump was definitely still there, not like it could dodge blaster bolts. Even if it could move, it wouldn’t have to avoid anything. The patch of brush next to it though? Thoroughly burnt. 

“And this is why I train close combat,” you patted at your vibroblade strapped to your thigh. 

“This is why you need practice,” Din moved next to you as you holstered your blaster, “Here.” He held his bare hand out to you, glove clutched in his left. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled. Gingerly, you grasped onto his hand with both of yours, thumbs tracing across his bruised knuckles. Din gave the slightest tilt in acknowledgement. You brought his warm hand right to your face, breaking out into a smile.

“I’m gonna get it for sure this time,” you said before placing a small kiss on his hand, “Now put that glove back on and watch me hit this damn target.”

Din chuckled as he backpedaled a few steps, looking on as you drew your blaster, aiming perfectly at the tree.

Breathe. You got this. It’s a completely immobile target. You thought to yourself. 

You squeezed the trigger and with a loud crack, the stump had a glaring split right down the middle where your bolt hit true. 

“Stars, yes!” You shouted in glee. Deftly turning the safety back on, you holstered the blaster and ran to Din, his arms already opening to wrap around you. 

“Knew you could do it,” he said, pulling you in lightly so the beskar wouldn’t bite into your skin. 

“Does this mean I can try out the rest of your armory?” 

“No.”