#Maybe she could’ve at least try to save him and give him a second chance compared to Aqua who fully resorted to killing himself.

[wia-tia]

Hikaru loves his children.

[3]

This is part of a series, you don’t need to read the others, but it might add some extra context:

Part [0]: main post

Part [1]: Hikaru’s motivations

Random intermezzo

Part [2]: Hikaru’s relationship with Yura, Nino, Ryosuke

Part [3]: Hikaru's relationship with Aqua & Ruby

I think his affection for Aqua and Ruby is hinted at throughout the manga. For example, in the interviews (I assume he did all of them) he probes after their lives, wellbeing and early careers. He seems to have followed them for a while and speaks kindly to them, which I think means that he has genuine fatherly feelings for them that are veiled by a sense of guilt. Ai felt like she could raise the kids together with him, which makes me think he would be able to if he was in a better mental position.

Interviews:

The idea that all the interviews might be Hikaru’s is really interesting. This suggests that he has been keeping tabs on his children to know how they’re doing, showing his affection for them and his timid nature that has been shown in the movie.

In his first interview with Ruby, he is aware that this is her first acting job. He asks her how she feels about it, a question that feels normal for an interview yet caring. In an interview with Miyako, he asks what it’s like to manage the twins and if they’re geniuses, a term Ai used to describe them. Notably, Miyako is referred to as [manager] and not mother, which makes it seem like he doesn’t see her as their mother. Hikaru is also interested in Ai’s legacy. He questions a fan about idols they’ve liked, probably probing for Ai. The otaku recalls Ai’s concert where the twins did the dance and, in the anime, she receives a bouquet of white roses before it. This connects that concert to Hikaru.

Outside of Miyako, he also interviews other central figures to the twins’ life, meaning he knows their closest relationships. He congratulates Gotanda and, indirectly, asks what Aqua & Ruby were like as children. In Kana’s interview, he asks about her reputation as a genius actress, nothing interesting though he shows an awareness of her connection to the twins and maybe tries to understand why she matters to them. He asks a kindergarten teacher about the twins and once again asks if they’re gifted. Hikaru knows where the kids attended school, meaning he has been keeping tabs on them for a while.

It’s interesting that he interviewed Saito before the movie. He asks about Ichigo’s management regarding Ai and I think he indirectly asks why he is a fisherman instead of managing Ichigo Production, which I think alludes to his interest in those connected to Ai. This could also be a reason why Ichigo is angry at the interviewer and why he instantly shuts Aqua’s “my father is dead” down.

Hikaru’s relationship with Aqua

I think he’s supposed to represent a dark mirror to Aqua, reflecting a path Aqua might have taken had he lacked the family and friends who kept him grounded. I think the ending of the manga may change this stance of mine :(((((((. While Aqua has loved ones, Hikaru lost Ai, Seijuro (Seijuro-senpai), Airi (Airi-san), Ryosuke (Ryosuke-kun) and Yura. They all differ in effect and closeness and if they actually helped him but they were people he leaned on. Though Nino is still in his life, I think he stays more out of guilt than a close trusting friendship (Kamiki-san < - > Nino-kun), especially for, in his view, taking Ai and maybe Ryosuke away from her. Guilt drives both Hikaru and Aqua, but in contrast to Aqua whose relationship give him more resilience, Hikaru doesn’t have anyone. Can't really say this anymore because of the last few chapters; but we'll see how it goes. I'm still processing them. I had a more positive outlook of the manga's ending, when I wrote this in the past few weeks, than I do now, sadly :((.

Aqua’s self-sacrificing tendencies, his sense of being a burden and his preference to do things without asking for help even when he needs it, mirrors Ai more. I hope he’ll overcome that and not repeat the mistakes of the past generation. These last chapters are not helping this more positive interpretation :(((((. In chapter 152, Hikaru emphasises with Aqua and is curious behind the reason that Aqua lies towards him and bottles his feelings up. I think it’s quite interesting that he instantly sees through the lie, like Ai told him in the movie, lies don’t work on Hikaru if he doesn’t believe them already (which is similar to Ai [Ai did call him the same as her] -> she saw through his lies but never through her own lie that she wasn’t able to love others). His empathy and curiosity over Aqua’s lies suggest that he recognises his own emotional restraint in Aqua. In chapter 153, his eyes look quite emotional to Aqua’s promise of revenge almost like it’s a relief to him. This scene makes it feel as if he’s been waiting for Aqua’s hatred and considers it a fitting response to his actions.

During this chapter, he offers a seemingly honest review of the movie, using lines from chapter 1. He says that the love between him and Ai was only one-sided and that Ai didn’t love him twice (also in 154). He also implies he has never been loved by anyone else (“she was just like everyone else”). Showing that he didn't have anyone, in contrast to Aqua. 1He congratulates Aqua on fulfilling his wish and if revenge were Ai’s wish then he’ll accept it. 2He says he loved her from the bottom of his heart. 3He also says he is glad that he could finally talk to Aqua which indicates that he really wanted to for a while, which could be confirmed if the interviews are his. I think these last three points suggest a sincere paternal affection. This sentiment is also seen as he describes himself as a murderer, but still says that those last few sentences (his paternal feelings) are how he really feels, for no practical reason. So, I think he’s speaking the truth.

Despite his immoral actions, he doesn’t seem to resent the twins; at one point, he was willing to take care of them, marry Ai and be a family together. Hikaru’s sense of guilt over the past is evident. He blames himself for what happened with Airi and also Ai. It didn’t really help that Ai seemed to give his situation with Airi as another reason for her leaving (even though she just didn’t want to burden him with another child). He also mentions that he is willing to sacrifice his life for Ai out of the blue? I think this is why he’s fine with the revenge (his death) Aqua has, if that’s what Ai would’ve wanted.

He humanises Ai by describing her as a normal human being living a normal life where she was afraid, selfish and cruel, just an ordinary girl you could find anywhere. A direct contradiction to his previously established goal of preserving Ai’s memory by killing those who might surpass her and to immortalise them. I think this contradiction means that Hikaru’s guilt drives his actions. The previous stated reason seems to fit Nino’s reasonings more. When It’s revealed that the DVD is a love letter to him, he says that he will do what he can for Ai, which now I seriously wonder what that means. I think he wanted to fulfil Ai’s wish to save him by killing himself, which would stop everything, as he was at a random cliff at night. (What was he doing there, just watching Ruby’s concert at a cliff? For the ambiance?) Hikaru is called empty by the narrator, which I think is interesting, when you connect that to the song Fatal and what Airi said to him. It could be that guilt is the only thing he can feel now, which makes him feel alive and closer to Ai as he feels guilty for taking part in her death.

In the last few chapters, he invites Aqua to watch Ruby’s concert with him. He tells Aqua that they and Ai have eyes that make people believe you (also obey you), that deceive others and have charisma. Something also echoed by Kindaichi as having deceiving eyes. This is a trait that links them. He also says that he understands that it feels good to have an impact on people, yet we only see positive memories when Aqua thinks about this line, which makes me question what Hikaru thinks.

The distinction between white stars (wanting to love) and black stars (wanting to be loved) emphasise that Ruby wants to love everybody, even Hikaru in the way the panel frames him, despite Ruby saying she can’t forgive him in chapter 147. This is further supported in chapter 155 which says Ruby has forgiven him. I would’ve loved to see this more elaborated in the manga (but, unfortunately, this will probably never be mentioned again).

Later in that arc, Tsukiyomi says that Hikaru was obsessed with the idea that killing those who could surpass Ai would increase her significance, but we still haven’t seen where he got the idea from. It only explains why he waits till Ruby turns 18 and she “surpasses” Ai, to kill her. She also says that he manipulated those around him and that it is his destiny to try to kill Ruby. I find this fatalistic view quite weird and it clashes with Ruby and Aqua’s saying that they are looking towards the future by shaping it themselves. Hikaru’s intent to kill Ruby contradicts with his interactions with Aqua that show his desire for Aqua to have a good future. Why wouldn’t he want that for Ruby too?

In Hikaru and Aqua’s final confrontation, Hikaru says Ruby has no future but to wither and die. This comes out of nowhere. Does he want Aqua to kill him? Is this the reason he also sponsors the movie in chapter 138? He says that killing him would increase Ai’s significance. Is this because he would feel guilty if Aqua would kill him, because Aqua would be hurt in the process, even though he wouldn’t mind being dead? He does ask him if it’s really okay to kill and what would happen after that, hinting that he cares about the twins and that they should head for the future. He then gives some good points about Aqua becoming a murderer not being good for Ruby. Why would he care, if she’s going to wither and die??? Why would he care about the wish she told him in 147, if she will wither and die?? It’s almost as if he wants Aqua to be angry at him. He also calls Aqua smart and gives him reasons to live, which is cute if you ignore the context wherein he is provoking Aqua. Hikaru even seems happy that Aqua also thinks his life is valuable, like why would he if he didn’t give a flying fck about his kids. He’s only shocked when Aqua says he’ll throw that all away and he doesn’t even plead for his own life, he’s pleading for Ruby's reputation. Why would he do that once again if she’s going to wither and die? His reaction to Aqua stabbing himself ain’t satisfaction either. I think him saying stop at Aqua for pushing him down a cliff is a normal human reaction but could also be him in disbelief that Aqua threw his life away. During this confrontation, his words seem aimed more at Aqua’s well-being than at his own self-preservation. I think he didn't mind dying, but feels guilty that he, indirectly, dragged Aqua into death. I think his guilt plays the most important role here. That emotion is more tangible to him than any other emotion, giving him a sense of connection both to the dead and I think even to the living and thus his children.

In the sea, he grasps Aqua and I don’t think he is choking Aqua because the panels in front of that say he’s losing strength and he also has the disadvantage of being under Aqua, being forced down by gravity and the pressure of all the water on top of him. (Still kinda laughing at Aqua choking Hikaru UNDER WATER, he can’t breathe already, why choke him lmao). Hikaru also for some reason doesn’t want to die yet. (Does anyone have an idea why?) He only feels alive when he was with Ai. It’s as if he can only feel alive and feel her presence by using the weight of his burden, aka his guilt. He feels less guilt over time, so he needed to feel that guilt again. He does this by involving himself in murders. This motive might explain why he used Nino to kill because he would feel guilty for using her and it's more in line with his timid and formerly noble nature. He can’t bring himself to do those actions with his own hands. His final statement, “if I had killed Ruby”, came out of nowhere. When I read that line at first, I was like where does this come from? But now thinking more about it, I think he would’ve felt the closest to Ai when he would’ve made Ruby die because he would’ve felt the most guilt when killing his daughter which brings us to the next twin.

Hikaru’s relationship with Ruby

I believe Hikaru’s connection to Ruby is marked by guilt and genuine affection. I think he’d feel the most guilt for killing Ruby or being involved in her death, which would make him feel the most connected to Ai. I see this guilt as a sign that he did care about his children on some level. However, if he expected Nino to kill Ruby, why would he watch Ruby’s concert in the middle of nowhere even though she should’ve been dead by then? (If nobody surpassing Ai was the motivation, didn't he fail then, according to the manga's narrative?) After that call in chapter 158, Nino could act on her own, but if Nino didn’t work then what? Either he didn’t think this through or he knew Nino would get caught, which could mean he wanted to wrap it all up and maybe just kill himself at the cliff? I think he wanted to fulfil Ai’s wish to save him by killing himself, which would stop everything and fulfill her wish of saving him.

The first time we see him, Hikaru seems really happy to see Ruby and talks so gently about her. He almost displays fatherly affection, complementing her beauty and pointing out that she’s his and Ai’s daughter. Why would he compliment Ruby and emphasise that she’s his daughter? It’s strangely personal for someone who may want to kill her. Coupled that he knew Ruby’s name and done the interviews, it seems that Hikaru kept tabs on his children and wants to connect with them in some way.

Hikaru feels tender, when he offers the umbrella in chapter 146. [Just like Seijuro is making me :((((( ] In that scene, he asks Ruby if everything is okay and asks permission to share his umbrella. Why is he so polite? He admits to having thought about the question if something is right for a long time, which we see in the movie. He also expresses curiosity in Ruby’s true wish, what she wants to do and become, suggesting that he does care about her aspirations. He then compliments Ruby again and voices that Ruby’s life may be even more important than Ai’s. Hikaru seems sincere here and combined with at least one white star in his eyes, makes me really confused about his intentions. Does this white star signify a desire to love Ruby at that moment? Does he feel hope for the future? There is way too much room for multiple interpretations, which makes me inconclusive about his true intentions here, but I think it’s something positive.

Hikaru’s intentions grow even more confusing given that he knows both Nino and Akane are watching. Did he just want to touch Ruby or did he intend for Akane to intervene? Knowing Nino was there, perhaps he wanted her to hear Ruby’s ambition to surpass Ai, which might spur Nino to act on his behalf. However, if this was his goal, it’s odd that he has a white star. This contradiction suggests that, despite there being potential for manipulating Nino, Hikaru might still feel love for his children. If something were to happen to them, he would feel intense guilt, which he equates with closeness to Ai.

It’s really interesting if Ruby was a foil to him, much like Aqua. When Ruby displays a black star, her nature feels like her father’s: both have manipulated others, while keeping their hands clean. They both don’t fully seem to realise the harm in comparison to Aqua/Ai until later, with Ruby seeing herself as dirty because of it and Hikaru internalizing blame even for events he doesn’t have control over. Both characters also attach themselves to others for purpose (Aqua-Gorou/Ai). However, unlike Hikaru, I think Ruby has friends and family, that she made during the manga’s runtime, that can help her overcome this, but we don’t really see much of this in the manga yet.

In conclusion, I think his guilt keeps him tethered to Ai, but also to his children. I think so much about his character is still unclear, but that’s also what makes him fun to theorise about. What do you think?

Thank you for reading!

[0] [1] [intermezzo] [2]

[laundrybiscuits]

“Eddie,” Robin says, eyes wide in a way that means trouble. “Edward Munson, I sincerely hope your last will and testament is in order, because you are going to completely and totally die when I tell you who just got hired at Scoops Ahoy.”

Eddie groans. “Don’t tell me Tammy Thompson is giving up on her Nashville dreams.”

“No, I hate you, shut up forever, you’ll never guess.” Robin pauses, then in a dramatic whisper she’s definitely picked up from Eddie himself, says: “Steve Harrington.”

“Jesus. No shit?”

“Yeah, I have to train him. Oh my god it’s the worst. He’s so bad at, like, everything.”

She shoves at his shoulder until he moves out of the doorway of the trailer, and flings herself backwards onto his couch. “Like! Okay! I showed up to my shift thinking it would be a completely normal day in which I would be bored out of my skull distributing frozen dairy products to the flotsam and jetsam of Hawkins, and Ned’s like, hey Robin, you’re showing the new guy the ropes today. And then that freaking jackass has the freaking nerve to say—” Her voice drops a full register. “Uhh, nice to meet you, I’m Steve. Nice to meet you! God!”

Eddie cringes sympathetically, sucking air between his teeth. There’s a special kind of indignity to being so completely and utterly below the radar of Hawkins High royalty, even former bearers of the crown. It’s not as if Hawkins is a big town; Eddie’s pretty sure he could pick every single person in the graduating classes of ‘84 and ‘85 out of a crowd. He’ll probably be able to do it for ‘86 too, though he’s trying not to think about it too hard. So he’ll be a senior again (again) this fall, whatever. It’s fine. It’s whatever.

Once in a while, he wastes some time really, really wishing he’d gotten to know Robin earlier in the year. Maybe even last year. For undying friendship reasons, yeah, but also because with her in his corner, he might’ve actually passed enough of his classes to fucking graduate on his second fucking try.

But he’d only actually met her, like actually met her for real instead of passing her in the hall sometimes, when he’d let himself get suckered into rejoining band. It wasn’t like he could’ve brought his guitar in, but he let it slip to Miss Genovese that he could read music and keep time, and they needed someone to wallop the bass drum, and he figured a little experience fucking around with percussion might be the one thing he could salvage from the year. He’d just…been so goddamn tired of feeling stuck, spinning his wheels. Music was something he could actually handle; something he could actually get better at. Something he could master. He's man enough to admit he needed a win.

The actual songs were all stuffy Holst and Sousa numbers, but they’d had some fun technical bits he spent his evenings hammering out for a couple weeks. And then right around the point when he’d gotten good enough to get bored and think about quitting like last time, it had somehow wound up that shooting the shit with the gangly weirdo in the trumpet section was one of the best parts of his day. Unfortunately, by the time they’d gotten close enough for her to start bullying him about homework and shit, it had been way too late to save his chance at walking that ‘85 stage with assholes like Steve fucking Harrington.

Not that Harrington would’ve even noticed, apparently.

“Anyway, the one singular saving grace about the entire situation is that he looks even dumber in the sailor costume than I do, so at least that will make me feel better about my life until he gets fired for burning down the ice cream freezer or something like that. Eddie, I cannot stress this enough: he is so bad at this job.”

Eddie very tactfully does not bring up the litany of screw-ups that Robin’s admitted to over the last couple weeks since she started at Scoops; he just says, “Buckley, it sounds to me like you might be in need of some quality relaxation time this fine evening. I can offer you a nice cold beer, some herbal refreshment…or a fiendishly weird new song to learn with an intro riff that'll make you cry.”

Robin, inveterate nerd of his heart, sits up immediately and chirps, “New song, please!” just like he knew she would. She’s going to run off and elope with his acoustic one of these days, and he’s not even mad about it.

“Coming right up, m’lady,” says Eddie. “I promise this entire Harrington situation will be over before you know it, and neither of us will ever have to think about him again.”

(ETA: First chapter of this fic has been edited/expanded and posted on AO3)

[writing-fanics]

after jealousy

Xavier Thorpe x Reader

Part 0 // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Finale // Epilouge // After Ever

“So we were friends?” She asked, looking at him curiously while occasionally looking down at the photo book.

“Yes, but I was a really shit friend.” He says and she looks at him, “It sure sounds like it,” she says turning through the book. Smiling softly at each picture her eyes scanned across. Xavier hoping that at least one of them would trigger her memories to return.

It wasn’t until she landed on one, A single tear rolled down her cheek, as she looked down at the picture of their first kiss. How could I forget? That moment was the most magical and special moment of her entire life.

She remembered how her heart skipped a beat the moment his lips where on hers. The kiss that lead to nothing but heartbreak.

“I-I loved you,” She sniffled, as the memories flooded back tears brimming her eyes.

“I-I thought you liked me after the kiss,” She whimpered, her grip tightening on the photo book.

“Why’d you even kiss me, if you didn’t even like me.” She asked, turning to look at him.

He didn’t know why. It happened two years ago. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, as she looked at him waiting for answer.

“I-I don’t know.” Was all he could say and she shook her head, closing the book and handing it back to him.

“Leave,” He looked up at her in shock, “What?” She turned towards him.

“Leave, I don’t care if I’m being unreasonable. But right now, I can’t even look at you. For years, I’ve been there for you and all you do is push me away.” She whimpered gripping the hospital blanket.

“You were my light, you saved me in the darkest moment of my life. and then you toss me aside like I was nothing.” She sniffled her knuckles turning white.

“I can’t take it anymore!” She cried tears rolling down her cheek, Xavier looked at her tears in his eyes.

“Y/n give me a second chance.” He pleads placing his hand over hers, and she pulled it away.

“No, maybe one day I can forgive you. But I can’t take it anymore. I’m not going to be used.” She said, trying her best to wipe away the tears.

“I no longer have feelings for you,” She said, and now the heartbreak [Y/n] went through seemed to transfer over to Xavier.

“Maybe, we can be friends again but I no longer hold romantic feelings. My heart can only take so much.” She says and Xavier nods, sniffling.

“I’m sorry, for everything.” He says, as he stands up from the chair and walks towards the door.

“Goodbye Xavier.” She says, and he turns too look at her.

“Bye, Y/n.” He says leaving her hospital room. Once he left the hospital, he angrily threw the photo book into the trash. angry at himself for causing this, he should’ve realized it sooner.

he looked down and noticed the picture of their first kiss, lying on the snow covered ground. he picked it up, and stared at it for a moment. staring at what could’ve been.

a/n: sorry I was going to have a hint towards them ending up together but~ this suits it more too much?

[ryoryeonggu]

After years and years, I admit that my opinions with TVDU have changed a lot. For example, I no longer feel the burning hatred towards Elena when I realize how suck her life is (and she did have her moments). But no one could ever bloody convince me that killing Kol wasn't a selfish hypocritical action on her and the MF gang's part, and only because of plot armor that she (and her friends) survived after pulling that shit. Nope. Not a chance.

Point number 1: "Elena only killed Kol to save her brother, that's self defense."

Like it wasn't her who lured him into her house in the first place. Like it wasn't the point of her whole plan at the very beginning is using the death of his entire sireline to complete The Hunter Mark. To get the damn cure for herself. Let's get a quick reminder of how she was fully aware of the consequences and what she's doing:

Elena: If you kill one Original vampire, their entire sire line will die with them. That's thousands, maybe tens of thousands of vampires.

Elena: Think about it. Kol's sire line must stretch to the moon by now. If Jeremy kills Kol, every vampire that he's ever turned, not to mention everyone that they've turned, will die, which means the hunter's mark will be complete and we'll have our key to finding the cure.

Some would argue that it's after Kol compelled Damon to kill Jeremy. But please don't say that there's no other choice since there's Klaus trying to dagger him! For the girl and people who have deluded themselves into thinking her planning a genocide was to protect her brother, she sure did a good job protecting him by having Jeremy fight an Original with some guns and crossbows (like it could've worked in a making-sense world).

Btw hey, how about using the dagger that bloody Matt stole to use it on Rebekah, how about using it to dagger Kol instead? It's still utterly stupid and reckless to challenge an Original vampire either way, but at least could've "protected your brother" without murdering 10000 and more innocent person who did nothing to you. How about that?

#dontwannakill100letskill10000ppinstead #elenaslogic

Point number 2: “It’s not plot armor, Elena is smart and capable than people giving her credit for”…

Okay that could’ve been debatable... if her plan wasn’t stupid af.

I already read those arguments about how Kol isn’t the greatest fighter out of The Originals squad (can’t blame them since the writers kept letting him get bested ridiculously). About his strength might be numb and his skills might be affected after centuries spending on the coffin. About how Kol was cocky, arrogant and underestimated Elena and co. And you know what, that’s fair. That’s some good point I could get behind to explain why Kol didn’t just tear Elena and her brother apart in a few seconds as soon as he entered The Gilbert house.

But let’s not pretend when you saw with your own eyes, that Kol wasn’t in the upper hand in the whole fight. Even they did prepare themselves with all those hunter equipment, attempted to trap him or attack him with surprise. Kol, with all possible inconveniences listed above, still managed to overpower Elena and Jeremy, throwing them away with no sweats like some rag dolls. Not to mention Kol had several chances to just kill Elena and be done with it, like when he pinned her to the wall, and stabbed her. Why didn’t he just rip her heart out of her chest? When he stated clearly on the phone with Klaus that he was going to kill Elena? Why stopped there? No reason. (And why did he froze like that in the kitchen scene as if he was waiting to be killed? 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♂️) Kol didn’t underestimate Elena, it's Elena who underestimated Kol. And now we all agree that she and her brother would’ve eaten sh*t and dead, or been armless if it wasn’t for all plot armor, stop fooling yourself.

Another hole of Elena’s “smart and capable” plan is… HOW? What tf was she thinking how she’s gonna kill him??? Like, we all know the only way to kill an Original is the white oak stake… which they didn’t have. The only ones who knew Kol had it were Klaus and Rebekah. And I doubt they just casually mentioned to their enemies in very short of time that their brother had the murder weapon which could kill them all. And let’s pretend they did for some reason, how could they be sure Kol would just bring the white oak state along to the house? He could've kept it somewhere safe, he could've destroyed it already. And there’re no indication or hint that they knew where it was. They planned to steal a dagger to use on Rebekah, to deal with the aftermath, but they didn’t bother to find the crucial weapon for the plan? And Kol just happened to bring the weapon to their door, how convenient. How clever.

Conclusions? Being with poor Elena and defending her all you want (like I couldn't careless with all other matters) but please don't pull the self defense card in this case or go as far as she really just survived purely on her "skills" or her "intelligence". Like, sure. She made a plan, lured Kol into her house to murder him, planned to kill 10000+ people and dgaf about the possibility of the world ending just because she couldn't handle being a vampire. The entire mess afterwards was because of her doings. And don't get me started on how the hell she thought she could get away with killing Klaus and Elijah's little brother and planned to dagger their baby sister later. But yeah, of course, somehow she did. Plot armor. Pointless.

[wolfybugswriting]

Itadori/sukuna x reader

Summary: You go into a yearly rut, and this time Yuji catches you out of your room. He learns what's going on and decides to try and help you. Sukuna's a brat.

Warnings: amab gn reader(has a dick, but I try to not use gendered pronouns), masturbation, somewhat rough sex to even rougher sex w/ Sukuna, lots of biting, slight degradation? reader teases Yuji about wanting to fuck them, Sukuna is a brat, Yuji is super submissive, nice fluffy ending

Note(s): In this, the rut is essentially a side effect of your curse/cursed technique

Word count: 4.2k

With a huff, you slammed the snooze button on your alarm clock for the who-knows-how-many time - you hadn't been keeping count. Still foggy with sleep, and the side effects of your incoming rut, you didn't really care how late you slept in today. You'd managed to keep your situation a secret from your friends, feeling more comfortable dealing with it on your own. You told them that you were out on a mission, and would lock yourself up in your room until it subsided.

But now you were hungry, late in the evening; the others should be out by now, so you made your way to the kitchen. You took enough food to hold yourself over for a while longer, and it was a good thing too, hearing footsteps as you locked your door behind you.

Fucking hell- You could sense him from here, connected to both Itadori and the curse he hosted. You see, you were also a vessel. You housed the only curse that could rival Sukuna; one who was once his lover when they were human, until she was killed. She resented Sukuna for not trying to save her, but they were still connected to each other whether they liked it or not.

Shaking your head clear of your thoughts, you huddled into your haphazard mess of pillows and blankets. Maybe you could just sleep away your problem.

. . .

"Fuuucck..." You groaned, throwing your blankets off of you as your body was starting to overheat. This was one of the worst ruts you've gone through already, and knowing just how close Itadori's room was to yours certainly wasn't helping. You'd liked the guy for a while, his kind while sometimes a bit childish nature catching your eye. Then combined with your shared memories of Sukuna, thanks to your own curse, you were whipped to say the least.

Stumbling out of your room to get another water bottle to try and cool yourself off some, you froze at the sight of Itadori stumbling down the hallway towards you. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, jumping a little when he finally noticed you.

"H-hey, you're back!" His voice was lower, and scratchy from just waking up. You tried not to think about how else you'd like to hear his voice.

"Yeah... What're you doing up?" Leaned back against the wall, you made sure to keep some distance between the two of you.

Oblivious as ever, he moved to stand right in front of you, laughing a little. "Just getting a midnight snack, what about you?"

Gods he smells good- "Water." You grit out, unable to look at the other. Even in the dim lighting he looks good.

Shuffling back towards your room, you stuff your hands in your pockets. You couldn't be around him for too long; as in control of yourself as you normally are, you didn't trust yourself to not pin the pink-haired male to the wall and-

No, don't even think about it. You don't want to freak him out, you idiot.

"Are you ok? You don't look too good," the good-natured idiot came even closer, trying to look into your eyes. It was hard to see your flushed face in the dark, but he knew you enough by now that he could tell something was wrong.

You had to bite your tongue, not wanting to say anything about your rut, and besides you didn't want to focus on just how close he is, or how you could practically hear his heartbeat- or was that your own?

"'M fine. Just- I'm going back to sleep." You didn't wait for a response, though you could hear him ask about your water, and you quickly closed your door and dropped onto your bed with a heavy sigh.

. . .

"What was that about...?" he wondered aloud, a little worried. You were never really the super upbeat type of person like himself or Nobara, but you seemed grumpier than usual and he didn't like to see you upset. When you two had first met, he could hardly get a word out of you, but that was a long time ago; he hoped something hadn't happened to you, or worse that he'd done something.

Eventually deciding to get his snack, and a water bottle that he left by your door, Yuji went back to his room. He curled up on his bed with whatever he'd grabbed out of the pantry with a sigh. As a mouth formed on his hand, he frowned but waited for Sukuna to speak.

"You can tell something's different about them, can't you?" The curse grinned, knowing something his host didn't.

"Obviously. Why?" Though he'd gotten more used to Sukuna's presence, he still didn't trust him. To be fair, he hasn't given much of a reason to trust him.

Still speaking into the darkened room aloud, Sukuna pulled his memories to the front of his mind and sharing them with Yuji in turn. "You see, the curse your little friend shares a body with," an old memory, but it was clear as day. She had an almost scary resemblance to you. "We were lovers."

Yuji nearly choked on his food, surprised that the King of Curses could have had a lover, let alone said lover now inhabiting the body of his crush. It clicked in his mind after that moment why he always felt so drawn to you, even before the crush on you had developed.

"What happened?" While he didn't know why, he'd known of Sukuna's aversion to the other curse; he'd made it clear from the moment when you and Yuji had met.

"...She died." The curses voice rang in his head, the lips on his hand pursed into a frown. "She died, but even then our bond didn't break. Though she surely hates me now." He huffed and though he acted like he didn't care, Yuji could feel his concern, as strange as it was.

Though he could barely wrap his mind around all this, Sukuna still hasn't told him what was wrong with you. "So why are they so upset?"

At that, the mouth on his hand shifted. "They're going through a rut because of the nature of their curse, and they don't want to get you involved. Some ridiculous self-sacrificing act I'm sure." Yuji opened his mouth to ask what he could do, but Sukuna got there first. "It'll pass on it's own, though it won't be pleasant. There is something you could do though, if you can convince them."

He waited, getting impatient for the curse to get to the answer he was looking for.

"If you fuck, the rut will pass after." The blunt answer made his whole face and neck flush a dark red.

It took a minute to process the idea, letting everything sink in. You were ok, thank goodness, but because of your curse who also happens to be the lover - ex-lover? - of Sukuna, you are going through this rut and if you, his crush, fucked him it would pass. It was a lot to take in, so he decided that he'd sleep on it, then go to you tomorrow night. Obviously you didn't want them to know about this, but if there was something he could do, even if he was a little lot nervous to ask, he wanted to do it.

. . .

You couldn't stop thinking about Yuji. Your heart was pounding, and though it has since calmed down you certainly haven't. He was close enough you could see flecks of red in his eyes, close enough that you could've kissed him. You'd wanted to, that was for sure. But you didn't want to ruin your friendship with him, afraid of any number of things.

The two of you had a rocky start; you knew about him, and being Sukuna's vessel, though he had no idea of your existence until you'd met. With only what you knew about Sukuna, both from other sorcerers and your own curse, you were wary of the boy and didn't stick around him long enough to give him a chance to explain. But eventually, with a little help from Gojo, you two made up and became fast friends, the group often having meals together when no one had a mission.

It took awhile for you to realize what your feelings were on Yuji, simply writing it off as a different brand of friendship. It wasn't until yuji nearly died for a second time, and you weren't there to save him; you were so afraid that you'd never get to see him again, never hug him, never make dinner for the others again, laughing about this or that. You realized that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, and you were afraid you'd miss the chance to tell him.

"You love him." The curse had said. "You're meant for each other. Like soulmates." She'd said, telling you what you were coming to realize yourself.

But you shook your head now, feelings not something you wanted to dwell on as it got later into the night.

Tossing around for a while in the messy sheets on your bed, you finally gave up and threw them off along with a majority of your pajamas, body too hot for comfort. Left in a pair of boxers, you buried your face into your pillow and groaned. Your thoughts drifted for a while between being too hot, sweat still sticking to your skin despite the fan at top speed, and your pink-haired crush.

You've always thought he was attractive, even before you got to know him. His bright smile lighting up any room, an aura of innocence around him. Then his strong physique, though you usually don't see it much between his hoodies and the Jujutsu tech uniform, but man, when you did; you'd like to run your hand over his abs, curious if they feel as strong as they look.

You wanted to touch him in a lot of places, really. His arms, definite muscle, but not too ridiculous like Todo's(Sorry Todo simps). His soft hair, though you've felt it before patting his head, being a bit taller than him and teasing him about it. His thighs, and definitely his ass. And you could only imagine the size of his package.

Biting your lip, you hadn't realized your hand drifting down your body as your thoughts turned, letting out a shaky breath. You'd definitely feel bad about it later, but right now you could only think about your hand being Yuji's as it rubbed against the bulge in your boxers. Flipping onto your back and pulling your underwear to your thighs, you shivered as the cold air hit your skin, sweltering as it was.

Even with your room being fairly soundproof, you kept your voice low, the idea of the object of your thoughts catching you both exciting you and making you anxious. You stroked lazily along the shaft, hips stuttering into your hand the closer to the edge you got. The thought of Yuji crying your name sent you over, dropping your head back as your orgasm washed over you.

After calming your breathing down, you cleaned yourself off. Despite feeling all sweaty, you didn't want to get up. Sighing, you decided you'd shower in the morning after the others left. It didn't take much longer to fall asleep, thankfully.

. . .

You woke up laying half off the bed, even the natural warmth your pile of blankets held getting to be too much during the night. You felt gross. Luckily, you couldn't hear anyone, probably out for lunch, so you could shower in peace.

Leaving your room in just a thin pair of sweatpants and a tank top, your grumbling stomach making your hunger known - you apparently didn't get enough food like you'd thought. You noticed a water bottle beside your door, grinning slightly as you knew who put it there. Shaking your head, you picked it up to bring with you; Yuji would probably try to talk to you when he got back, clearly worried about you. It's cute, but you wished you had a good way to explain your situation without him trying to help.

As much as you would like the idea, you didn't want to make it seem like you just wanted to use him to get through your rut. You wanted him so much more than that, but you couldn't say that, could you.

Quickly grabbing some more snacks, you hid away in your room again, growing tired of your four walls. With your ruts usually lasting around a week, you dreaded having to stay in your room for much longer, but you didn't want to be going on missions in your state.

. . .

The day seemed to go by agonizingly slowly, for the both of you; you in your room with only what you had with you for entertainment, and Yuji waiting anxiously to talk to you. Sukuna had told him earlier that it'd be best to try to talk to you once the others were asleep, as you'd probably be asleep most of the day anyways. That was usually the case, if you could you'd sleep as long as you could to avoid dealing with your body all out of wack.

Finally though, just as you were going to try and go to sleep, a knock sounded at your door. Yuji had to hype himself up to do it, with roundabout encouragement from Sukuna, his thoughts running rampant. 'What if you thought he was weird for asking? What if you got upset with him? What if it ruined your friendship? What if, what if, what if?' He was still fiddling with the hem of his sleeve when you opened your door, a faint look of surprise on your face. You'd started to think you were wrong, that maybe Yuji had forgotten about your interaction the other night or thought he'd dreamed it.

"Hey." You spoke softly, looking him over. He wasn't wearing much, similar to what you had on. He looked good in it.

"H-hey, um, sorry if I woke you, I just kinda wanted to talk?" Yuji smiled, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

You sighed, but nodded.

"So, y-you're," he blushed a little more, his cheeks already having been red, thinking about you most of the day - as well as what he planned to ask you. "You're in a rut, right...?"

Eyes widening, you blushed a bit yourself. "How'd you..." Your voice trailed off, confused.

Yuji tapped his cheek, "Sukuna, he told me. So... are you, o-ok?" He still wanted to make sure, even if he knew now what was happening and you confirmed it with your unsaid question.

After a moment, you opened your door wider and nodded your head back. "Y-yeah, just, come in and we can talk." You were careful to sit at the edge of your bed after closing the door behind Yuji. "What all did he tell you?"

"Everything, I think. The rut, the whole lovers thing between them," he gestured between you and himself, "and, um..." He looked away, unable to meet your eyes as he mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. "The s-sex, thing."

Nodding in turn, you ran a hand back through your hair. "Right. So, why're you here then?" You could apologize for being harsh later, you wanted to make sure you didn't pounce onto him. And fuck the look he makes when he brings his eyes back to yours.

"I wanna help, a-any way I can." His face is completely red, so innocent looking, you bit your lip.

"I appreciate you wanting to help, but I can handle this on my own, Yuji."

You watched as he shuffled closer to you, take a breath and grab one of your hands. He looked into your eyes, so cute.

"Please, I want to help you! S-sukuna told me what it's like when this happens, and if I can help it, I don't want you to have to deal with all that!" Only Yuji could manage to look so sweet and innocent when talking about having you fuck him, even if it was just because of your rut.

He would look even cuter all fucked out, crying for you. You swallowed, looking him over again. You wanted to have your way with him, so badly, but you never wanted to put it on him like that. But... if he's asking you to fuck him. Well, maybe you could have him after all.

"...Are you sure about this, Yuji? I don't want you to do this just for me." But you do, really.

He nods, almost excitedly. To be fair, he'd be lying if he said he hasn't thought about you on top of him, fucking him into the mattress. He wanted you to feel better, and if he got to be with you in the process it was a bonus.

You smirk. "Words, Yuji."

His eyes widen, but he stammers out a soft, "Y-yes."

You bring your free hand to his waist, leaning in a bit closer. "'Yes', what?" Your eyes were darker than usual, clouded with lust, and it made a shiver run down the pink-haired males spine.

"Yes, I- I want to do this."

"Good." You press your lips to his, hungrily running your hand along the contour of his back.

He lets out a little noise as you kiss him, eyes fluttering closed. Fumbling with the hand not holding yours, he finally places it on your shoulder. You could hear his heartbeat, this time sure it was his, though yours was quickly picking up to match it. His lips are so soft, just like the rest of him, a bit of squish to him along with his muscle; you gave in to your wants and felt everything, moving from his back to his arms, down along his chest, squeezing his ass. He yelped at the feeling, and you took the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth.

Submissive through and through, he didn't fight it, but it was clear he didn't quite know what he was doing. But you didn't mind teaching him, spurred on by the little sounds he was making, almost whimpering. Unclasping your hands, he moved his opposite his on your shoulders and you let yours to wander beside the other.

His body was more than you'd imagined, and his sounds were downright sinful. You were just getting started though, pulling his shirt off and pressing not-quite-rough kisses along his jawline and down his neck to his collarbone. You hit a spot that made him whine, and you grinned, kissing and biting there. You could just see his expression from where you sat, pressed into his skin, and it sent heat straight to your core.

Gripping at your back, Yuji pulled you closer, entranced by you. "F-fuck, (y/n)..." His voice was soft, almost shaky as his breath stuttered the longer you nipped at his neck. He tugged at your shirt and you pulled away just long enough to take it off, taking his turn to admire your body.

Leaning forward, you caged your hands around his head, his wrapped around your shoulders. You kissed down his chest, taking off his sweats, surprised to find that he hadn't put any underwear on, and when you looked up at him he had his head turned to the bed.

You hummed, raising a brow at him. "You really wanted to get fucked by me, huh? Ready for me and everything." You lightly traced random shapes on his now bare thighs, watching his cock twitch in response.

Yuji whined, nodding, but kept his face turned away from you. You gripped his chin, turning it back. "Words, remember Yuji?"

He did his best to not just whine again, "Y-yes, yes I want you!"

You just hummed again, "Say it."

This time he did whine, long and drawn out, "Ahh~ I w-want you to f-fuck me! Please!"

You kissed him, muffling his noises, only pulling away when you needed to catch your breath. "Good boy." You didn't give him a chance to respond, wrapping one hand around his length and pressing a finger of the other into his hole. Yuji shuddered, his words cut off by a shaky moan.

It didn't take long before you had three fingers in, with the way he kept begging for more, pawing at your pants. Taking the hint, you stripped down, your own dick mostly untouched now very hard. You look at him, making sure he still wanted this. He nodded, muttering 'please's under his breath between moans.

You kept stroking his weeping cock as you pressed into him, until you bottomed out and you let him rest for a moment and get used to you inside him. He surprised you, rutting his hips into yours as his head dropped against the bed, body quivering under you.

"Fuck, fuck me, fuck me-e p-please!" Yuji whimpered, words punctuated as he grinded against you. You were right, he looked so pretty when he was whimpering and moaning for you.

Something in his voice made whatever restraint you'd been holding onto snap, thrusting into him at a merciless pace, though he didn't seem to mind, moans rising in volume and pitch. His eyes rolled back, and all you could hear besides his moans were broken pleads and your name. You had your head in the crook of his neck, and you growled, going from nips and kisses to biting, leaving large hickeys in your wake.

"I- I'm g-gonna- F-fuuu-uuu-ck-" The loudest moan he'd made throughout the night interrupted him, hips stuttering as he came, painting his stomach white. You came not long after, his body clenching around you so well. You were both panting, at some point Yuji had wrapped his legs around your waist, and you slowed to a stop still inside of him.

You pulled away to make sure he wasn't hurt, and you stopped when you saw tattoos that hadn't been there a moment ago. They must've switched accidentally, if the faintly confused look was anything to go by. But when the curse started bucking his hips, you growled.

"C-come on, I know you can take me too," he taunted, but the effect didn't work as well as he wanted when his voice was so broken and he moaned when you hit that one spot.

You huffed, but you grinned. "Who knew the king of curses was a fucking brat?" Thrusting once to make a point, he shuddered, still full of you. "At least I won't mind if I rough you up a bit."

Sukuna chuckled, sharp nails digging a little more into your shoulders. "You c-couldn't break me if you tried."

With that, you started up that same rough pace, smacking his ass. It was almost strange, not quite muscle memory leading you, moving to make him cry out the most. It was still Yuji's body, but with Sukuna in control, it snapped something into place between both of you.

'Soulmates'. You were brought together like this for a reason.

He kept trying to taunt you, but his words would always break away into a whine when you bit in just the right spot, or you'd smack him a little harder. Finally, he couldn't speak anymore than moan, pulling himself into you as he clawed at your back and shoulders. His voice broke as he came again, nearly crying as you sped up even more as you got close to finishing. You bit into his neck as you came, riding it out, slowing down to a stop for the second time.

"Satisfied now?" You taunt, and he whines.

Slowly pulling out, both of you moaning at the loss, though he was much louder, you relaxed. Yuji switches back after a moment, shuddering at the feeling of your cum leaking out of his hole. You sigh, standing to go run a bath for the both of you, letting Yuji know before he closes his eyes just in case he falls asleep in the meantime. He nods, so you know he heard you.

. . .

You ended up curling up next to each other, wearing some of your clothes, after you pulled off the dirty sheets. As the sunlight streamed through your window, you woke to your arm wrapped around Yuji's side. It was a peaceful scene compared to last night, though you definitely enjoyed yourselves.

"mm... Morning." Yuji looked up at you, a small smile on his lips.

You hum. "Morning. You alright?" He chuckles.

"I should be asking you that. But yeah. 'Lil sore, but yeah."

Nodding, you grin in turn. He probably won't be walking straight for a little while. "Good... Thank you, for helping with- this." You frown a bit, gesturing to yourself. He cups your cheek, waiting for a moment before smiling wider.

"'Course. I wanted you to feel better," he blushes a bit. "Aaand I might've been wanting you to- f-fuck me for a while..." His voice trails off at the end, pulling away nervously. But you pull him closer.

"I'm glad, cause I've been wanting to fuck you for a while too. Probably cause I like you. A lot."

He grins. "Me too."

[midgardianweasley]

I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.

No pressure of course ✨

as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3

How could you do this to me?

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.

Warnings: Cheating, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!

message/ask to be added to the taglist<3

Requests are open!

You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.

‘I’m just off to train, baby.’

‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’

‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’

‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’

Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.

Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.

You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.

“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.

“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.

Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.

“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”

You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.

“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.

“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”

“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”

“I saw her last night.”

“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.

“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”

the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.

“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.

“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.

__________________

An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.

He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.

Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.

“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose

“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”

“Nope”

“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his

“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.

You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”

“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”

“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”

His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.

Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.

Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”

His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.

You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.

“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”

“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”

“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”

“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.

“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”

Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.

“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”

“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”

It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.

“I do pride myself on it.”

“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”

“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”

“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”

Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.

________________________

You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.

“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.

“Hey Y/N, we were just-”

“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.

“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”

“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”

“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.

What the hell was going on?

_____________________

Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.

What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.

You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.

“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”

The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”

She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”

“That’s what Tony said.”

There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.

“I just, it sounds so stupid.”

“Tell me.”

You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.

“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”

“Really? Like who?”

“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.

You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.

It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.

“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”

“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.

Why was everyone in such a rush today?

_______________________

“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”

“Bringing up footage 182.”

While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.

Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.

The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.

“JARVIS?”

“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”

You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.

It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.

The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.

“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.

You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.

Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.

Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.

If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.

“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.

You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.

“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.

“Don’t.”

“Please-”

“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.

You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.

________________________

You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.

So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.

The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.

“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”

That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”

“I didn’t know-”

You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I don’t think I care.”

She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.

“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”

She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.

You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Y/N-” She pleaded

“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Silence returned to the four walls.

“Get out.”

“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.

“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Whatever.”

She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.

Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.

Natasha won’t even notice the difference.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 5

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST. AND MORE TO COME! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @edlothia-baby @soul-end @willieoo @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy

Author's Note: I have nothing to say for any of the emotions y'all are about to get from this. Enjoy!-Thorne

She wasn’t sure what she expected when she sat down, but the stretching silence growing between her and her estranged family wasn’t it. She tried to look anywhere but them, not because she was ashamed—far from it. But it was more than awkward sitting across from three brothers and a father she’d not spoken to in three years, let alone tell them she was even alive.

Her eyes found Wally’s as he sat down beside her eldest brother and if looks could’ve killed, he’d been dead and buried.

“Glare at me all you want, but I’m not going to apologize,” he shrugged.

Scowling, she turned her attention to the skyline. “Fuck you,” she spat, crossing her arms.

“At least talk to them, (Y/N).”

“And why should I, Wally?” she questioned, glaring at him. “I don’t have anything to say. If I did, I wouldn’t be here in Central.”

“You’re not leaving until you talk to them,” he finalized with a firm look and she growled low in her throat and resigned herself to her fate.

Her eyes darted to her father’s and she couldn’t for the life of her decipher what was in them. “I’ll talk for an hour,” she told him. “I’m not talking about what I’ve been doing in Central City, so don’t ask. I’m not talking about the life I’ve been living, so don’t ask. You’re only allowed to ask me about my departure and that’s it. But after one hour is up, I’m leaving.”

“Who said you get to leave,” Wally questioned, and she shot him the darkest glower she could muster.

“So help me God, Wally West you’ll either take me home or you’ll fix that fucking elevator and I’ll walk myself home. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell the world who every vigilante is at this table.”

For once she managed to stump him because his eyes went wide—so did her family’s but she didn’t care—and he finally nodded.

“Alright. One hour.”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she turned back to her family, more specifically her father. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

“Maybe for you to come home, (Y/N),” Jason answered, and she glanced to him.

“Not a chance. Next?”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to be hostile. We’re not going to force you here,” Dick said, and she looked at him now, eyes narrowing.

“The manipulation tactic isn’t going to work on me, Dick. I’m not here for to be tricked into coming back. I’m never coming back.” She cocked her leg over the side of the table and reclined, biting out, “Give me your anger. I’d prefer that instead of whatever this pitiful bullshit you’ve got going on.”

In the eighteen years they’d known their sister they’d never heard her say such a callous thing, but her words had practically slapped Dick across the face because hurt etched onto his expression, then immediately turned into anger.

“You want my anger? Fine.” He stood and pointed at her. “What the hell is wrong with you! Why would just up and disappear like you did! Do you have any idea how scared we were for you! How distraught!”

(Y/N) blinked at him. “Knowing how you like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders because you can’t help but be a hero? Probably a lot.” She made a dramatic show of looking at her watch. “You’ve got forty minutes. Keep it up.”

Her eyes shifted to Bruce’s. “Did you let them read the letter? Or did you just throw it away after you read it?”

Dick, Jason, and Tim all turned to Bruce at that.

“Letter?” Tim repeated. “What letter?”

(Y/N)’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape and then she smiled knowingly. “Oh, you never showed them the letter, did you?” She looked to her brothers. “I wrote dad a letter the night I left to explain why I was leaving. It’s sugarcoated bullshit but it is the truth.”

Dick’s face contorted in anger. “(Y/N) left a reason behind and you didn’t tell us about it? Three years and not a single word?”

Bruce merely stared at her as he pulled the letter out of his coat pocket. “I was going to burn it when I found her again. Talk to her before anyone else could.”

Jason snatched the letter from his hands. It had faded a bit, softened around the hard edges, like someone had opened it and read it every day for three years.

His eyes scanned the paper, and he met her gaze, voice chock-full of hurt and she had to fight tooth and nail to keep herself from externally reacting. “You left because you thought we didn’t care about you?”

Dick reached over and took the letter. With furrowed brows and a frown, he started to read aloud, and Bruce gazed at (Y/N) as the memory came back to him.

***

Mornings at the manor were unusually quiet in comparison with the evenings. Everyone was typically too tired to argue so it accounted for a peaceful breakfast of soft words and chewing. Everyone had an assigned seat and every child had learned early on not to take the seat that belonged to another brother or their sister because there would be a fight about it.

Dick and Jason sat next to each other and (Y/N) took the seat at the end of that side; Tim and Damian took the other side—oldest to youngest, just the neat and even way Bruce liked it.

It was rare for any of the boys to be awake before him or Alfred and (Y/N) was usually the first kid to the table, the boys wandering in just minutes after her. Oddly enough, that morning she hadn’t come down for breakfast—which she always came to.

Bruce looked at Alfred. “Is (Y/N) coming down?”

Alfred hummed and gently maneuvered Tim’s arm to the side to he could set down the plate. “When I went to her door, it was locked, and I received no conversation from inside.”

Jason snorted and sipped his coffee. “Probably had a long night with her friends and is still out. I know I would be.”

“How would you know?” Tim interrupted. “You died before you got to the eleventh grade.”

“You’re one to talk, dropout,” Dick countered, and Damian sighed.

“Richard, you dropped out of college. The only son of Batman who has actually completed an entire bout of schooling is me.”

The three boys turned on him with scowls and retorted, “No one asked you, pipsqueak.” Damian glared back at them.

Bruce rolled his eyes, using the side of his fork to cut into his omelet. “Let’s try not to start a free-for-all here in the breakfast room, please.” He glanced at Alfred. “She’s probably tired from all the ceremonies. Let her sleep.”

Alfred nodded. “Of course, Master Bruce. She should be well rested this evening.”

But when the evening came, Alfred still hadn’t been able to get (Y/N) to unlock her bedroom nor speak to him. He certainly wasn’t worried, but it was off for her to be so reclusive. When Bruce and the boys came back from patrol, he mentioned it to him.

“Miss (Y/N) hasn’t come out from her bedroom, Master Bruce. Nor has she said a single word all day.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed and he tugged the cowl off, rising from the seat at the Batcomputer. “I’ll go check on her,” he replied. “You deal with…” his steel eyes drifted to Dick who had Tim in a headlock and Jason who was giving Damian a noogie. “Them,” he finalized, leaving the poor butler behind.

He knocked on the door to her room and pressed his ear to it. “(Y/N)? You haven’t come out all day. Is everything alright?”

Nothing. Not even a breath.

“(Y/N), are you in there?” he asked again and when he didn’t receive a confirmation, he raised his arm, running his fingers along the doorframe until he touched a small metal piece. He pulled it down and stuck it in the door, wiggling the knob for a second before it clicked, and he opened the door.

“Sweetheart, we’ve been trying to—” Bruce went silent when he saw the kempt room. Bed neatly made, everything organized and put away. Even her clothes hamper was empty.

He blinked and walked into the room, quickly heading to the bathroom to check for her there. It was empty as well, and just as clean, leaving him stunned as he exited the bath.

Wandering over to her desk, he saw an elegant envelope sitting on top of her laptop, his name written in beautiful penmanship. He picked it up and unfolded it, pulling out the multi-page letter. He drew his eyes along the golden lines, reading her words.

Dad,

I don’t really know how to start this letter. Truth be told I’ve written at least six before this one, and even then, I’m not entirely happy with it. But if you’re reading this, I’m not here anymore. I haven’t hurt myself in anyway, you don’t need to worry about Vicki Vale or Jack Ryder reporting the discovery of my body. I mean it in a literal sense—I’m not in Gotham anymore. Neither am I ever coming back.

Don’t think this is your fault. You’re a good father, the best I could’ve been given, and my brothers are good siblings. But the truth is that I’m not fit for this family of heroes. And I never have been. My best when trying to be what all of you are, was never good enough and I’ve spent eighteen years staring at your backs, waiting for you all to realize that I’m still here, that I still matter even if I’m not like you. And I don’t want to feel like a stranger in my own home any longer.

I don’t want you to look for me. I know you will, but I wish you wouldn’t. This isn’t some spur of the moment thing I decided to do the night after graduation. If you look at my bank records, I’ve been withdrawing cash from my savings since freshman year—this is four years of planning, so please understand that I’m doing this because I don’t want to be found—ever.

I’ll leave the story for the media up for you, though I doubt that they’ll care long enough to make a deal of it. It’ll pass like winter does spring and they’ll move on to the next bigger story.

Thank you for everything dad, and good luck with Gotham—keep it safe like you always have. And I hope that one day when you think of me, you won’t feel disappointment. I’ve only ever tried to be something that when you looked down on me, you’d only be proud, and I hope one day I’ll achieve what I always dreamed about. Eighteen is young to be on your own and I’m scared. But I’ll be okay—I always have been.

So do me a favor and don’t spend too much time over this. There are plenty more younger kids that need a parent’s hand on their backs to steady them like you once did for me. Find one and fill my spot. Let them shine brighter than I ever could. Let them be the one worthy to be a Wayne—I know I never was.

-(Y/N)

Bruce barely had time to grasp the back of her chair to keep himself from falling to his knees in shock. The letter was clenched in his hand and his lungs wouldn’t take in air like he wanted them to, his heart aching with each palpitation. He looked around the room to her dresser drawers, willing the strength into his legs to moved over to it. He opened every drawer and to his astonishment, they were empty. Hurrying to the bathroom, he noticed the drawers in there were empty as well. She was really gone. And he had no idea what to do.

***

Tears were in Dick’s eyes when he finished the letter and he looked up at her. “How could you ever think we didn’t care about you, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t want to have this conversation. She didn’t want to sit there and explain every time she asked her brothers if they wanted to do something with her and they conveniently had something else to do. Didn’t want to explain every school and extracurricular performance that went unattended and left a little girl standing in front of a crowd barely managing to stave off the tears as she bowed and thanked them for coming. She didn’t want to remember all the memories that chipped away at her heart with every disappointment that occurred. All she wanted to do was leave.

(Y/N) had earlier returned to her original position, hands in her lap and she clenched her fists until her nails bit into the skin of her palms, eyes directed anywhere but Dick’s.

“I think it’s time we call this little reunion done,” she said, standing to her feet. “We’re not going to get anywhere.”

“Not if you run again,” Jason muttered, unconsciously wiping a tear from his eye.

She pointed at him, hissing, “I didn’t run the first time, Jason. I left. On my own accord.”

“You ran instead of coming to us, (Y/N),” Tim said, and she threw her hands above her head in disbelief.

“What the fuck did you want me to do! Wander down into the cave and beg at your feet for someone to pay attention to me! To at least pretend like I was a sister! I did! Every day!”

(Y/N) picked up her purse and yanked it up her arm. “Cassandra seems to be fitting in better than I did. So go and dote on her as the younger sibling. I’m not interested in the position anymore.”

“It’s not a competition,” Dick explained. “We love you just as much as we love Cass.”

She paused and gazed at him, voice laced with disappointment as she disagreed, “Then you should make sure she’s content in the manor, because if you love her with any semblance of how you loved me? It’s not at all.”

Her eyes shifted to Wally’s. “Fix the elevator. Now.”

He stayed seated for a moment, the two of them staring each other down, then he nodded wordlessly and moved to the elevator, starting it again. Her family stayed seated, and she gave them one final look before she followed Wally, silently waiting for the doors to open.

When they did, she stepped inside and turned around, hitting the button. Just before the doors closed, Wally stopped them and murmured, “You’re making a mistake.”

“My worst mistake was becoming friends with you.” (Y/N) blinked at him, then reached up and shoved his hand away from the door and as it closed, she remarked coldly, “And you can go to hell for all I care.”

[thefanficmonster]

Few Too Many

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, In-game violence and death, Suggestive comments

Genre: Protective fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Jealousy is a dangerous thing, especially when the jealous person is armed with a gun....in a game of Counter Strike. At least Y/N’s friend will now know not to mess around and flirt with her, especially not with Corpse around.

Requested by 🐐 Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request but here it finally is! I didn’t want to make it IRL violence to avoid triggering anyone while I also felt it’d be very ooc for Corpse to beat someone up but I still hope you enjoy the fic if you come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey everyone!“ Y/N greets her squad as they all customize their characters while I sit there, observing and unknowing of what I’m supposed to do. “I invited Corpse to play with us today, hope y’all don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Nice to finally meet you, Corpse. We’ve heard a ton about you from Y/N, thanks for making our girl the happiest she’s ever been.“ One of her friends says, the tone of his voice suggesting he’s only half-joking with the dad like comment he made.

“Nice to meet you too, man. Glad I’m the one she gave the chance of making her happy. That’s all I ever wanna do.“ Though it may sound cheesy, as guys, her friends can probably read into how genuinely I mean what I’ve said.

Dating a girl with only guy friends has it’s pros and cons. Which outweigh which is still up for debate since I’m still researching, but so far so good in my opinion. This is the first time I’m interacting with them directly so I’ve still got a long way to go in terms of getting to know them and the details of their relationship with Y/N better. Regardless, I at least know they can easily understand me and put themselves in my shoes if I ever ‘mess things up’ with Y/N and she goes to complain to them - something that will most likely never happen. I’d never dare make this girl upset. Chances are, if I do, her friends won’t get to me on time - I would deliver my own punishment just the way I think I deserve it. However, there’s also the chance of them getting super protective of her and ganging up on me over something as small as a fight. By the many things and stories Y/N’s shared with me about them, I believe they wouldn’t think twice about kicking someone’s ass for her. They’re not massive dudes - I’ve seen pictures of them - but I for one don’t ever wanna see em angry.

“Ay bro, what’d you do to score our best girl? You must know what she likes. If so please, by all means, do tell.“ One of them, not the one who was previously talking, speaks up, his words making me furrow my brows in both confusion and irritation.

I open my mouth to complain as I slowly start cracking my knuckles when Y/N and her friends beat me to it. Thing is, Y/N’s friend group consists of three guys and her and yet four voices scolded the guy that made that suggestive comment. That being said, this guy probably isn’t considered to be one of her friends, at least not one that’s a permanent part of her friend group.

“Seth, cut it out!“ The guy I was previously speaking to says sharply before softening his tone to refer to me, “Sorry about my brother, excuse his lack of brain cells, please.“

Just then, I also receive a message from someone. Checking my phone, turns out it’s Y/N who by the way is currently in the living room while I’m in the recording room. Her text reads:

Y/N ~ Ignore Seth. I told Leo to not invite him but he’s still here somehow

I send her back a quick reassuring text before answering the guy I now know is named Leo, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“See? The guy can take a joke, you’re all just freaking out over nothing!“ Seth laughs, reminding me and the others of how loud he is compared to us.

Despite acting like it’s no big deal, I can’t help but admit to myself that this behavior of Seth’s has awoken a deeply buried suspicion of mine that’s not only mine but also arises in every guy whose girlfriend hangs out with a lot of guys. It’s not that I don’t trust Y/N - she could literally blindfold me and tell me to walk through a pool of lava, promising it wouldn’t hurt and I’d do it - but we all know about that saying that every guy in a group with one girl has liked said girl at least once.

Disturbing to think these four, including Seth five, dudes could’ve possibly been my competition at some point. It’s nice that they’re all super chill about it, mostly cause some of them have girlfriends as I was told.

Nevertheless, we get over that hiccup and carry on with the small talk and preparations for the game. Since it’s my first time playing CSGO, Y/N, Leo and her other friend Clancy explain the mechanics to me in detail to avoid me getting confused mid-game and getting myself killed. When they finish, we start the round and wait for the game’s algorithm to separate us into two teams which Y/N jokingly refers to as cops and robbers. Unfortunately, the end result of that separation ends up being me getting put in the terrorists’ force with Leo and Clancy while Y/N’s with the FBI, partnered with Seth and her other friend Evan.

“Alright, team, we shall now disperse. Corpse, remember, if you see more than one of them, radio in and lay low, we’ll be with you as soon as possible.“ Leo informs me as he runs off in one direction, Clancy going in the opposite. I confirm I understand and go along my way too, heading for this ancient looking structure that looks like it could belong in an old-timey movie. 

Walking in, I realize the place is way bigger than it appeared on the outside. A quick look up confirms that there are three fucking floors above, not to mention that the ground floor is huge. Luckily, there are many crates and barrels to hide behind if I come across an FBI agent. I sure as hell hope it’s Y/N, I could maybe even try talking her into giving me a second chance at life and pretend she never saw me. Come to think of it though, I’d probably prefer getting killed by her rather than her friends - especially Seth.

Given that we’re in a Discord call, I can hear all the conversation going on. They are all quiet though, I can just periodically hear the mumbles of someone muttering to themselves as they navigate the map cautiously out of fear of running into their opponent unprepared. The silence is put to an end though when Seth speaks up, addressing Y/N.

“Yo, your boyfriend’s with the terrorists, ain’t he? That’s like the universe giving you a sign that y’all shouldn’t be together.“ The fucker laughs at his own joke while I can literally hear Y/N rolling her eyes.

“Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet, Seth?“ She asks sarcastically, almost getting a chuckle out of me but I suppress it to avoid getting caught listening in.

“Yeah, they both die at the end. Fucking boooriiinngg.“ Just then, I spot two silhouettes entering the building. Aiming my gun at them reveals their names - just the people I’m currently involuntarily eavesdropping on. Seth and Y/N don’t notice me though so I quickly duck behind a crate and prepare to radio in when Seth continues verbally torturing Y/N and dancing on my last nerves, “I personally think the friends-to-lovers trope is far more interesting...“

Did this guy just- no, he’s gotta be fucking kidding me

I’m left with my jaw hanging in disbelief at this guy’s audacity. I have no doubt Y/N’s about to put him in his place herself but I just gotta have my own chat with this guy. And by ‘chat’ I mean I mindlessly rush out from behind the crate towards where I saw him and Y/N and open fire on him.  I hear his startled and upset screams with Y/N’s laughter in the background. She doesn’t try to stop me as a teammate of his should and would, instead she just observes the scene unfold, laughing her ass off.

“Yo man what the fuck was that for?!“ I hear Seth’s yell but only faintly since the sound of gunshots is still echoing through my headphones. Yeah, I’m not done shooting this fucker.

“Corpse...Corpse, buddy...“ Y/N manages through fits of laughter she cannot tame, “That’s a few too many bullets, he’s already dead.”

“And that was a few too many comments for him to be let off the hook.” I answer as sharply as I can with the new-formed smile on my face. What can I say, her happiness is contagious.

“Well, you got your first kill in CSGO. Good job, babe! I’m super proud of you!” She cheers for me, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Nah that was my first overkill.“ I quickly add, with a more threatening tone: “And it won’t be my last.”

“Let’s just hope there aren’t few too many of these overkills either.“ She snickers.

“That doesn’t depend on me, babe.“ I say smugly, suggestively enough for Seth to pick up the dropped hint. Mother fucker’s officially been put in his place and I couldn’t possibly be happier - with the added bonus of getting a ton of laughter out of Y/N who also decides to walk away, leaving me unharmed but promising to shoot to kill next time she sees me.

I’m ok with that. She could kill me anyday.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[watermelonlipstick]

Stabbed

This was written following an anon request that read as follows:

Hello sweetie, can I please request a dean x reader one shot in which she gets stabbed during a rough hunt and it's a race against time to save her (maybe Sam is the one driving and dean gets in the backseat with her?) And dean is scared of losing her and he has a panic attack after she wakes up but she manages to calm him down?

Obviously everyone’s experiences with panic attacks are different, but I tend to think if Dean had one it might manifest more externally as a violent outburst; I think he would subconsciously feel like it’s a more acceptable way to express ~freaking the fuck out~. This fic is sort of loosely set during early season 3, partly because that contextualization made sense to me with what you were describing and partly because I feel like that tenderhearted, slightly-less-jaded Dean would be more likely to allow himself to be perceived as vulnerable in such a fraught moment. 

I’ve also taken a couple liberties with the medical situation described for literary purposes. 😋 Don’t @ me, I know this isn’t exactly how hypovolemic shock plays out.

Title: Stabbed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4206

Summary: Dean’s anxiety gets the best of him when the reader appears fatally injured on a hunt, and is soothed only after the danger is gone. 

Warnings: canon-appropriate violence, description of panic attack, swearing

           Sam slammed the door once Dean had hauled you into the backseat, propping you up like a mannequin next to him on the bench. Your vision was starting to fade in and out, but the sense memory of the muscles in Dean’s side and the leather seat underneath you were comforting anyway. It seemed like the car started flying before Sam had even closed the driver’s side door and you tried hard to focus on Dean’s babbling.

           “You’ll be able to give me shit about this one forever, right, kid? Should’ve listened to you, you said they would’ve left the barn by the time we got there. Always so smart, when am I going to learn?” He was trying to chuckle but it came out breathy and wrong, Dean never quite able to actually hit the casual affect he wanted in moments like this. Honestly, it made you more nervous, knowing that for injuries he wasn’t worried about he wanted to look over you with clinical precision, chastise you for being careless. He only did this pretend calm when he was trying to keep it together—you used to think it was only for you or Sam but after a few years and more than a few bad scares you started to understand it for the defense mechanism it truly was. Not that you needed extra evidence that this was bad; you could feel the life leeching out of you like a water balloon with a pinprick leak.

           “Hey, come on—open your eyes for me, lemme see those stunners,” he said, guiding your chin up where you had begun to slump onto his shoulder. “Perfect, yeah, just like that. Hey, stay with me—”

           You mustered up everything you had to swim to the surface of the sleep-darkness your body so desperately wanted and straightened your spine to take a deep breath. Bad idea, the wounds in your side feeling like they were splitting you clean in half even through the haze. At least it woke you up for a moment to catch Dean’s eyes, fiery with panic even as he tried to smile.

           “Dean, I—” you started, feeling like your throat was full of broken glass.

           “Babe, don’t try to talk, it’s okay, you can tell me whatever it is when we get to a hospital.”

           Sam turned his head away from the rural highway the Impala was absolutely sailing down to look back at his older brother. “We’re hours away from a hospital, we’ve gotta go back to the motel,” he said, low and serious.

           “If we’re hours away from a hospital then I guess we’re driving for a couple hours, aren’t we, Sammy?” Dean was getting worse and worse at covering the hard edge of fear-driven anger in his voice as the seconds ticked by.

           “Dean, we—she’s—we don’t have a couple hours.”

           Dean closed his eyes tight and set his jaw firm. “We’re going to a fucking hospital.”

           His brother swerved deftly around a giant pothole, somehow able to turn the wheel so slightly that the car’s path barely changed. “Listen to me. She can’t bleed like that for long enough to get to a hospital. We have to try to handle this one ourselves or there’s no chance—”

           The whole conversation felt like it was happening to someone else, your senses starting to detach from your body, and you couldn’t hold onto those trains of thought for long enough to process them. You were forced to expend all the energy you had on what you needed to say, and reached for Dean’s hand with a weak grip.

           “Dean, look at me.”

           He sounded like a hurt puppy when he said, “please,” and you knew he was asking you not to make him listen but you were worried you were out of options, out of time. That frantic smile looked almost crazed as it started to quiver on his face, eyelashes clumping with moisture.

           “Sam, can you hear me too?” you asked, frustrated in an abstract way at how frail your voice sounded.

           He gave one tight nod in the rearview mirror with a jaw set firm as iron, and when he said “Yes—yeah,” it was choked.

           “I love you idiots so much. These last—ow, Jesus—however many years have been some of the most fun I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t take it back for anything. Sam, I—you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I—fuck,” you winced, something about the breath you took to keep from crying sending an electric jolt of pain through you and doubling you over.

           “It’s okay, I know,” Sam said up into the rearview mirror, and you couldn’t tell if the way the headlights were falling on the trees impossibly fast was something about your sight being distorted, because if it wasn’t then you were surprised the Impala hadn’t broken some kind of land speed record. You made a mental note to tell Dean to start drag racing before remembering you might not tell him anything ever again. What you were nearly positive you weren’t imagining were the break in Sam’s voice or the reflection of tears on his cheek as he locked eyes with you in the mirror.

           By the grace of whatever higher power the Winchesters were on the good side of at the time, you connected with him in the reflection, were able to absorb some fraction of the bone-crushing, pick-you-up-off-your-feet hug you wanted so badly from Sam in that moment. You tried to be thankful for what you got and drifted back to Dean’s gaze.

           “And Dean, baby,” you continued, some bizarre flutter of second wind giving you enough force to clench your hand tightly around his and remember to keep your breaths shallow, keep talking even if your eyes couldn’t quite focus. “This was not your fault, you gotta—promise—me you know it wasn’t.”

           “I, ah—” he faltered, throat vibrating as he tried to keep the inevitable tears down.

           You gripped his hand tighter, felt your fingers going numb, and tried to smile hoping it didn’t look too grotesque on a face almost certainly drained of lifelike color. “C’mon, gotta obey a last wish, right?” The grief-stricken chuckle of surprise that dark joke punched out of Dean opened the floodgates, and tears burst forward to stream down his face. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

           You’d thought of some goofy punchline to try to give, some ‘no sleeping with random girls for at least a year, want you guys to pour one out for me every day’ bullshit but seeing the love and pain in Dean’s eyes as your vision came in and out zapped it away. “I love you baby. I just—thank you for—everything—and—”

           It was getting too hard to take even those shallow breaths, your hearing gone fuzzy around the edges, and the last thing you remembered was seeing a streetlight on the edge of town as Dean took your face in his hands, “I know, kid, I know, come on—please,” fading out like he was being zipped away through a long tunnel.

           You were completely motionless in Dean’s arms, pulse gone thready enough that Dean was having a hard time finding it through the rumble of the car.

           “Fuck, Sam, FUCK!” Dean screamed, one hand wrapped up in the hair at the back of your neck as he fought desperately to keep you upright.

           Sam muscled through the lump in his throat and tried to stay focused. “When we get there you need to be ready to go, okay, Dean? HEY, listen to me. Don’t quit on me like this,” he barked, trying to catch his brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror without taking his focus off the road, terrified at the speed of the Impala and the potential of repeating what had happened the last time he’d had someone he loved bleeding out in the backseat.

           The car skittered around two corners and Sam prayed as hard as he had ever prayed for anything that there weren’t any Keystone cops looking to meet their month’s ticket quota by hanging around dark parking lots with radar guns, willed Dean to stop punching the window of the car with the hand that wasn’t clutching your head to his chest. He couldn’t decide if he thought it would’ve been better to have Dean drive, if he would’ve been able to hold it together any better than Dean was right now, if Dean could’ve focused if he was driving and not feeling you drift in his arms. There wasn’t time to figure it out and it ultimately didn’t matter, his brother turning into a bomb in the backseat and Sam needed to figure out a way to funnel Dean’s sheer panic back into the denial that would fuel him to keep moving, do anything to keep you alive, regardless of whether there was any hope left.

           “It’s not over, you’ve gotta keep it together. She needs you. See, we’re right around—"

           But he didn’t get to finish through the flurry of action as he pulled into the motel. He careened the Impala straight up to the door of the room, more than half of the car parked over a strip of grass intended to make the nondescript building feel more homey. By the time he’d torn the keys from the ignition Dean was practically leaping out of the backseat, carrying you into the room a quarter step after Sam half-busted the door open, laying you on a bed and tearing your t-shirt off with his bare hands like a cheap wrestling gimmick.

           Sam didn’t bother closing the motel door, moving too fast to care as he ripped a cork out of whiskey bottle with his teeth and poured it all over your now-exposed side, grimacing with nausea at the way it didn’t make you draw back in pain even a little. Dean tried his best to thread a needle with floss and remember whether it was better or worse that the blood was still flowing fast and bright red out of those stab wounds rather than slowing or oxidizing—this is bush league shit Dad pounded in years ago why can’t I remember fucking any of it? His hands shook with too much adrenaline to get the floss through the needle but Sam was already working on patching the biggest wound, tying knots with the rapid precision of a surgeon.

           It was only when he started getting in Sam’s way that the younger Winchester said anything more, encouraged that Dean was at least trying to pull himself together. He began talking through the stitches, muttering when he had to pull one tight with his teeth.

           “We—Dean, look at me.” Sam drilled into him with those brackish eyes, struggling to maintain the appearance of being in control that his brother needed of him when he could feel you going cold underneath his fingertips. “We’re going to need to give her a lot of fluids when she wakes up; all we have is beer. Go get some stuff for her to drink—electrolytes, she’ll need electrolytes.”

           “I’m not going to fucking leave, asshole!” Dean was strung out and not even pretending to hide it anymore, voice taking on that juvenile squeak Sam had only heard a handful of times since Dean was a teenager.

           He took a deep breath in an effort to soothe himself before speaking as clearly and firmly to Dean as possible, no room for negotiation. “Dean. This is not helping. The best thing you can do for her is to go get some fluids. Gatorade, OJ, bananas too, if they have them. She’ll need iron but we can deal with other food once she wakes up.”

           “What if she doesn’t—” Dean half-moaned, sounding like he’d been struck by something that was sucking all the oxygen from his lungs, looking like he was on the last ten feet of a hundred-mile race.

           “She’s going to wake up.”

           And Sam’s stubbornness actually did help Dean a bit in that moment, knowing that even if his life was about to change radically, that never would. “Go get some fucking Gatorade.”

           By the time Dean came back—arms filled with so many bags of sports drinks that it would be comical in any other context—his brother had stitched up every wound, cleaned off most of the blood, and put all your limbs atop high stacks of pillows in an attempt to get as much blood to your vital organs as possible. Dean was near catatonic with the singular focus of a task, which was Sam’s intention. One thing at a time.

           After about five minutes of sitting alongside Sam watching you, thick, viscous panic bubbled back up to the surface.

           At first, he was muttering like he was talking to himself. “She told me, she fucking told me they wouldn’t be in the barn anymore, I didn’t listen. I should’ve been right behind her, Sam, what the fuck was I thinking—she was—she—she was alone, they wouldn’t have—” and then the way his voice built to a fever pitch matched his body, Dean perched on the mattress like a sailboat in a tempest, slammed against invisible waves of panic.

           “It wasn’t your fault, Dean. You couldn’t have known—”

           “She was alone against five of them, Sam, do you get that? I left her fucking ALONE!” Dean wailed, springing forward from the bed with eruptive energy and bashing the nightstand lamp hard enough that its base shattered against the opposite wall, coming clean out of the socket as easily as if it hadn’t been plugged in. Sam flinched but didn’t get up, instead taking a quick visual inspection that no shards of ceramic somehow bounced back to cut your still body. By the time he glanced up again he only had a millisecond to react as Dean threw a chair from the kitchenette against the wall, exploding the mirror there into shimmering beads of glass and ricocheting back, forcing Sam block it with a forearm lest it hit him or you.

           “DEAN, enough!” he yelled, crossing over to his brother with a few powerful strides and grappling with him, battling to keep Dean still as the older of the Winchester brothers fought to destroy the room to match the chaos in his mind. Sam knew exactly what was going on, the way Dean’s brain converted fear to rage, but hated when his brother got like this, not only because it cut so deep to see him in pain but because the explosiveness was so similar to the knock-down drag-outs they’d grown up with, made it impossible to try to fix the root of the problem.

           Sam tackling Dean to the ground was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.

           “Do I pull this shit when you guys are sleeping?” you croaked from the mattress, trying to sit up and immediately abandoning that plan, stilling yourself and holding your breath until the pain settled a fraction.

           Sam and Dean scrambled to get to their feet and ran over to you, hovering over the bed looking like their backs had a light dusting of glitter rather than a million tiny shards of glass.

           “What’re—are you okay? What do you remember?” Sam blurted out, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade out of a plastic bag and cracking it open for you. He snatched a pillow and helped you sit up slowly, jamming it under your head so you could drink.

           “Well, I’ve definitely felt better,” you tried to chuckle, but the tension it caused in your abdominal muscles made you wince. “I’m really sorry, you guys, I shouldn’t have—” you began, immediately stopped by the way Sam and Dean shook their heads, sucked on their teeth.

           “I’m—ah,” Sam started, smiling self-deprecatingly through the shake in his voice and looking down at the ground for a beat with his tongue in his cheek. It was like his body knew that the worst of the crisis had passed and refused to let him hide his emotions for one second further. After a second he met your eyes again, faintest hint of tears in his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re up.”

           Behind him, Dean collapsed into himself, his expression simultaneously complete relief and like he’d seen a ghost. You peered around Sam to meet his gaze. “Hey, dork,” you breathed, unable to come up with anything to match the weight of the moment.

           He opened his mouth a few times and couldn’t find anything either, wincing and biting his lip hard as he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I’m so sorry,” he finally choked out.

           As always, Sam knew what Dean needed and snatched the car keys off the table as his brother tried in vain to keep his restless limbs still. He gazed at you with such naked thankfulness it made you smile involuntarily. “I’m going to see how much red meat I can find you, I’ll be right back, okay? Drink as many of these as you can and don’t stand up alone.” You nodded gratefully to him as he backed out the door.

           When Sam left, Dean still shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands until he ultimately jammed them deep into the pockets of his coat with enough force that it shook loose almost all of the glass, sending it floating to the ground around him as if he was a mirage. You could see, even as he stood a few paces away from the bed, that his breathing was quickened from the rapid, shallow movements of his chest and neck. “I’m—ah, I didn’t think—I shouldn’t have—” he stammered against a jaw locked shut tensely enough to make the muscles bulge out of his cheeks, and the lack of the self-assuredness that was normally so Dean to you made him seem unbelievably young, made you want to leap across the room and wrap him up in your arms. As it was, you beckoned him over with a shaky hand.

           He walked over to you hesitantly, only sitting down on the side opposite your injuries when you patted the sheets next to you. Awkwardly trying to move your torso as little as possible, you tossed the pillows on that side to the floor and motioned for him to lay down.

           “I don’t want to hurt—”

           “I’ll be fine. Please?”

           Reluctantly taking off his coat and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground, he gingerly tucked himself under your arm and laid his head on your chest. You faintly dragged your fingertips down his back, waiting for his heartbeat and uneven, shallow breathing to slow down. When they didn’t and all you felt was a spreading wetness on the remaining upper half of t-shirt you still had, you twisted laboriously to see Dean’s face.

           Tears streamed down onto you, Dean biting his lip so hard to keep quiet you were shocked you couldn’t see blood, the whites of his teeth almost matching the pressure-blanched skin.

           “Oh, Dean,” you hummed, pulling him close to you with your one arm. “Babe, I’m here, I’m right here. Everything’s okay; I’m okay, you get to treat me like a princess for a few days and I’ll learn for the hundredth time that I shouldn’t go off by myself.”

           “I—I thought you were gone,” Dean whispered between stunted sobs breaking the words off in short staccato, still fighting to speak as though he wasn’t crying even as his tears soaked you.

           You craned your neck slowly to kiss the top of his head. “Not gone, right here. Always going to be right here.”

           “You were bleeding so mu—just like Sam, it was just like when Sam—” he faltered, speaking slowly to try to grab the reins of his voice as it shook.

           “Not just like Sam, baby, I’m still here. Everyone’s okay. And Sam’s okay too, right?” You waited for him to confirm what you knew was true and emphasize your point, drawing back to meet his gaze when he didn’t. “Right?”

           Reluctantly, Dean nodded. The redness around his eyes made his irises seem almost unreal in electric green contrast and you couldn’t believe you were so close to never seeing them again. His lashes were even darker than normal, spiky black frames formed with salty tears like cartoonish mascara. You waited a beat then let him settle back into your chest before continuing, feeling the choke-hiccupping of his breath stop even if it stayed rapid. “Everyone’s okay. You’re okay,” you hummed into his hair. “You’re okay, baby.”

           The two of you stayed like that until Dean’s breathing finally steadied, waiting past the clearly forced long held breaths and through to the point that he genuinely seemed like he’d hit the smooth rhythm you knew so well. “How are you feeling?” you murmured.

           “Like a bitch,” he grumbled softly against your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile, thankful beyond anything for the glint of humor back in Dean, that shimmer of normalcy returning.

           “Sorry for scaring you.”

           “I’m never fucking letting you out of my sight again,” he said, words still sticky with swirling emotion and muffled by his cheek pressed against you. You knew he was only partly joking but also that now was not the time to push back, just kissing his hair in response.

           There was no way it took Sam an hour to get you a diner burger but you were thankful for his intuition nonetheless, because by the time he got back Dean was calm enough to get up and had even helped you to put on a new t-shirt—one of his black ones; he said it was because it was looser but you suspected it was some kind of metaphor, covering you with part of himself—and shimmy into a pair of mesh athletic shorts. Standing up for a shower was still too ambitious, but the fresh clothes made you feel a little less gross. He was trying his best to clean up as much broken glass as possible when his brother opened the door and tossed him a paper bag with a bubbly illustrated hamburger on it.

           Walking into the room without taking his jacket off, Sam set your food on the nightstand and grabbed a motel binder of local attractions (minimal) as a makeshift tray for you to eat off of before carefully helping you to sit up a little more. “Double cheeseburger—eat it before the fries, you need the iron. Oh, and I almost forgot—couple of these too.” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved two bottles in one big hand that appeared to be acetaminophen and an iron supplement.

           “You’re the best, Sam.” It was nice to hear your voice sound more normal, lubricated with two bottles of Gatorade already, and you tried not to imagine how awkward or painful it was going to be to try to get up and go to the bathroom later.

           The Winchesters sat on the other bed, still in their boots because of the rug of broken glass no one wanted to acknowledge, and Sam turned on whatever dumb comedy he could find first. For a fleeting moment it felt like any normal night on the road, nursing an injury and eating greasy food in a room you’d never see again past tomorrow morning, and you almost forgot that (minutes? hours? you still didn’t know how long you’d been out) earlier you thought you were saying goodbye to the two people you loved most, who’d moved heaven and earth and miles of rural highway to bring you back, whose superhero resilience you’d seen start to crack at the thought of losing you. A searing jolt of pain when you reached for another Gatorade reminded you all too much, and when you hissed both Sam and Dean leapt off the bed with faces contorted in concern.

           “Just stretched too far, I’m okay.”

           Watching them take twin deep breaths could’ve been funny and you hoped it would be in a few days—hoped in a few days laughing wouldn’t feel like being impaled. For now, you tried to drink in this little moment of peace and made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t take another one for granted ever again.

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​ @vxnderlindes​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @akshi8278​ @itsjensenanddean​ @flannellover67​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @tj-drinks-tea​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @winchest09​ @winchestergirl2​ @samwisethegr8​ @nobxdy​ @nurse-sarahrn​ @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love​ @deanwanddamons​ @stressedoutkitten​ @winchestershiresauce​ @tatted-trina6​ @percico-heronstairs​ @downanddirtydean​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @lyarr24​ @wonder-cole​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @fairlyspnfanfic​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​

And as always, if you want to be on my taglist, were on the taglist and changed your handle, or I lost track of it, please let me know!

[fandom-monium]

i finished for the holidays and i just *chefs kiss* beautiful talented amazing sajkgdkj no words i love that romance wasnt even the main point 🥺💘 anyway i love how you write reader and i wondered between her and spencer who gets jealous???

Unrivaled

Summary: In which you seem pretty close with the new intern, and Spencer is not happy about it. (ft. one of my fave white bois) “Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

WC: 3.6k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, Jealous!Spencer bc id like to see that, established relationships (blegh), Garvez if you squint, the lightest implication of smut ever, points to yall who can guess who the intern is before reading the end or the tags 😉

—

Spencer is not jealous. He’s not.

Why would he be? 

He has no reason to be jealous, Spencer chants to himself as he sits at his desk. Even from across the bullpen he still manages to hear your voice, and while normally it’s music to his ears, even better than Mozart, now it just feels like nails against a chalkboard. Grating his eardrums, making him wince.

Because you’re laughing. Not with Spencer though. Not at his obscure references or lame jokes.

With the new intern.

Why did Emily have to put you in charge of him? She could’ve chosen anyone on the team to have him shadow, but it had to be you! Not that you’re incapable or unqualified; you’re experienced, talented, and the best person he knows. 

… Okay, he can see why she picked you.

Why do they even have interns? Unnecessary, really, when the BAU has you and him and he guesses the other teams too (it’s weird, he’s never actually interacted with them but whatever). Maybe it’s time to start making budget cuts. He’ll discuss this with Emily when he gets the chance. He’s got some influence, working at the BAU as long as he has.

But he’s not jealous. 

Logically, jealousy (like an intern) is unnecessary. The green-eyed monster (like an intern) is ugly and contributes nothing productive, and if Spencer’s being honest, the world (like an intern) would be much better off without it.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself as he downs his coffee like a shot of whiskey, trying to quell the squirming beast in him. Despite 90% of it being sugar, it still tastes bitter. He sets his mug down with a thud, and it’s loud enough to make Luke, Garcia, and JJ turn their heads, exchanging concerned glances when he slumps back in his chair.

Spencer doesn’t care. The world’s ending; you’re apparently into younger guys, with neat dark hair and forearms that can probably snap someone’s neck, and he can’t do anything about it. What does it matter if his best friends catch him in a sour mood, right?

“Hey, Spence,” JJ's tone is soft as they slink over, Garcia and Luke leaning against the edge of his desk and JJ flanking the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer gazes past them, his eyes never leaving you. He deflates; your stance is relaxed, completely open as you nod at whatever Intern is saying, his hands gesturing spastically. It must be interesting, the way you listen with rapt attention and respond just as enthusiastic.

Spencer scoffs. Not like that’s anything special. You do the same for him. And the rest of the team.

...What the hell are you guys talking about? 

“Well, you look like you’re about to throw your mug across the room. Or at an intern.”

Spencer blinks, finally breaking away from you long enough to eye the ceramic octopus. “That’s a good idea actually.”

“Don’t,” Garcia and JJ both shoot him a warning and he huffs, resting his chin in his hand. Garcia looks horrified, betrayed even while JJ has that expression on, the one she gives when she scolds Henry and Michael.

Whatever. It’s not like he’d ever sacrifice Mildred. Garcia entrusted her to him, after all. 

Unless...?

No, he couldn’t… Maybe.

“You know, Reid, if you’re jealous—”

Spencer snaps his head to Garcia, eyes wide and darting to you like you have super-hearing, “Jealous? Who’s jealous? Not me.” He cringes, his voice octaves higher and cracking like a prepubescent boy.

Garcia snorts, “Okay, sure. But if you are jealous, I was going to say you have no reason to be. You wanna know why?” Spencer raises an eyebrow at her and she continues, “Sure the guy’s smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship at GWU, and he’s top of his class at the academy—”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

"And he’s one of the most good looking guys I've ever met—”

"How is that relevant—"

Luke frowns at her. "And have you met me?"

“My point is,” Garcia’s red lipstick curls into the most reassuring smile, “that you have nothing to worry about because (Your Name) loves you. A lot.” 

Spencer perks up. “You really think so?”

“I know so. I see the way they look at you, and if that’s not love I don’t know what is," She shrugs, "And just because they’re talking doesn’t mean they’re into him.”

There's a collective nod of agreement and Spencer sags in relief. Of course they're right. He knows they are. 

If you think about it, technically, he's got the advantage. You've known each other longer, bonded and shared experiences together good and bad, and you’re emotionally and even physically intimate with each other (something he's especially proud of, considering how long it takes you both to warm up to others).

And who knows? This is probably temporary! Whatever this is, the connection you seem to instantly make with Intern (faster than when you two had met, he realizes with a needle to his heart) is short-term at best. It'll peter out eventually, like most friendships do.

It’s sad, but a cruel fact of life.

(Is this selfish, wishful thinking? Nah.)

They’re right, there is no need to worry, Spencer thinks as a weight lifts off his chest, finally able to breathe. You love him and he loves you and eventually, everything will go back to normal. 

There’s nothing to worry about.

—

The world’s ending.

“It’s really not.”

Yes, it is.

“Doc, come on.”

“Do not ‘Doc’ me,” Spencer grumbles, lifting his head from the comfort of his arms. He grimaces at Luke. “You didn’t see the way they looked at him. The way they talk about him.”

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you’ve taken Intern under your wing, and he’s had enough. If Hell is real, this is it. For days, he’s tried to resume some form of normalcy, and he was never one to be bold but desperate times call for desperate measures as he asks you out for lunch or invites you out on dates, even stuff he wouldn’t normally do because they’re more your thing. Something, anything to get you away from Intern. But...

At work: “Hey Spence, I'm teaching Intern (menial task that a 4 year old could do). Would you like to help—”

During break: “I’m taking Intern out for lunch. He’s still new to town, and I thought he could use a tour—”

In bed: “Did you know Intern’s a huge fan of Star Wars—”

Snap, and there went his patience.

Intern this, Intern that. 

Spencer could tolerate this at work. At least he’s saving lives, being productive, getting paid. But under his roof? In his bed? 

That was the last straw.

Spencer's not one to wish ill on another, he's not like that. But if something happened to the guy, say, get injured in the field, perhaps from a "stray" bullet, he'd be intern-ally grateful. Heh. 

"Hey, you good?"

Spencer sighs, swiping a hand over his face and turning back to Luke. "Yeah, why?"

Luke waves a hand at his face, eyebrow raised, "For a second there, you kind of had a scary look on your face."

"Did I? Weird."

"Right," Clearly unconvinced, Luke brushes it off, deciding to get to the root of the matter. "As I was saying, I still think you have nothing to worry about. Although, I do think it's a little weird that (Your Name) is talking about Intern as much as you say they are." He offers Spencer a little smile, his hand falling heavy on his shoulder. It's the most comforting touch he's had in two weeks. "I'm not one to talk, but I suggest you speak to them. I'd also be uncomfortable if my partner were talking up someone else."

Spencer blinks, squints at Luke, before gripping his hand and standing up. "Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?"

"You can stand to mention it more often," Luke shrugs, eyes crinkling with amusement as Spencer lets go and heads for the door. 

"Noted."

—

Spencer nearly goes feral when he finds you.

Of course you're with him.

He searched the floor like a bloodhound, discovering you've been on your feet almost the entire day, running around the office, up and down the elevators, finishing your work and helping around. You must be exhausted. It's because of this he tracks you to your favorite break room, mostly quiet save for the buzzing drip of the old coffeemaker. He knows you need to be alone sometimes, recharge those social batteries.

So when he bursts into the room like he would hunting an unsub, eyes quickly scanning the immediate space, he expects nothing less but you. What he did not anticipate was to find you, just as soft and pretty as ever under the fluorescent lighting, leaning against the counter and sipping daintily at your favorite mug. 

With Intern standing a little too close to his liking.

“Hey, Spencer,” You chirp as you lower your coffee mug, lips glossy from your drink. Spencer's quick to shake his stupor―he can’t afford to be distracted, but it’s difficult when you’re beaming at him, clearly excited. You nod at the home-wrecker, “Me and Intern here were just talking about demonology and he’s got this interesting theory on werewolves―" Lycanthropy? Are you fucking kidding him right now? 

Just when he thought he couldn't hate the guy any more.

"CanItalktoyou?" It comes out rushed as Spencer gasps between breaths, leaving no room to second guess himself.

"Sure," You blink at his urgent tone.

For a second, you watch him expectantly, and Spencer's gaze darts between you and Intern. "Alone?"

"Oh! Okay. Be gone," You wave Intern off, and when you place a hand on his shoulder, Spencer sees red. Or green in this case.

Intern doesn't resist, but the noise Spencer releases is animalistic because the guy can’t seem to read the room, questioning you as you gently shove him towards the door. "What about the thing―"

"We'll talk about that later."

"But you still need to show me how to―"

"Don't worry, Intern. Just wait for me, I'll show you once the adults are done talking."

"You know at some point you're gonna have to call me by my name." 

"Nah. If we get to call Luke a newbie, we get to call you Intern. Also I do not know how to say your first name."

 "You could just call me St―"

Enough of this. Spencer closes the last stretch of distance, batting your hand away from Intern’s shoulders as he kicks him out himself, slamming the door in his face. Spencer turns on his heel to face you, caging you both. “You―” He pants, chest heaving for air.

“Me?”

“You-him-we―”

You’re unfazed, simply nodding at him and his odd behavior. If anything, you’re enjoying this as your lips twitch in a poor attempt to withhold your amusement, trying to cover it with a slurp of your cup. Then again, it’s not everyday you get to see Spencer, face flushed from exertion, speechless as he gasps for breath.

(At least not at work… In the break room specifically.)

It takes a minute as Spencer swallows a few times, but his heart’s erratic and it’s not just from running through the entire building. When he’s got enough air, he blurts out, “Did I do something?”

Your brow shoots up. “What?”

“Did I forget something important? Upset you in some way?”

“No? I don’t think so?” You frown at him, your answers more like questions. 

It only spurs him on, and though his tone is frantic and his eyes just as wild as his hair, you’re more intrigued than frightened. Definitely confused.

“Okay, but you know I love you, right?”

“Yes and I love you too but Spence, what’s this about?" Setting down your mug, you look at him like he's grown another head.

Spencer sighs, "I just… you…" He frowns, glancing between you, the floor, and the empty space between you. 

Spencer Reid is a man of words. Many, many words, according to all his friends and his coworkers. Mainly knowledge―he's never been great with feelings―but as you gaze at him, patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts, he wants to melt into the floor. There's not a hint of annoyance on your features, your eyes warm and inviting. 

He's so in love with you.

Then like scripture the words come, natural without much stuttering or hesitancy. He recounts the last two weeks. The internship so far, the times you've left Spencer behind for him, the times you just talked about him, like the guy (practically a stranger) is your new best friend. Usually, pretty people make him tongue-tied and you do―god, you do―but at the same time only you make it so easy. Talking, expressing without fear of―

"Pfft―"

―Judgement. Pausing mid-sentence, Spencer gawks as your nose twitches and your blink rate increases. You purse your lips, a hand slapped over your mouth as it threatens to break out into a grin.

"Are you-are you laughing right now?" When he just poured his feelings out to you? 

That does it. You keel over, peels of laughter coming like a tsunami, crashing into him and Spencer loves your laugh but not when it's at him. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing," you wheeze, gripping your stomach. Spencer pouts. There's even tears in your eyes. "But you're telling me this is all because you're jealous?"

He stutters, "Well-I-no-It’s just…" He wants to say ‘you're mine’, but as your eyes crinkle he knows there’s no need.

"That's kinda hot."

"Wha-really?" Wide-eyed, Spencer squeaks as you step closer to him, backing him into the door. His hands come up to his chest in a kitten-like manner yet at the same time protective―you'd never hurt him and you both know that―but you admit your initial reaction was poor when he laid his feelings bare. 

“Ahhhh Babe, you know there’s no one else for me but you.” Spencer blushes and you chuckle, taking his hands in yours. He let's you. “Also, as adorable as Intern is, one, I think I’d be able to tell if he was hitting on me, and two, he’s not really my type.”

Spencer swallows, “And what exactly is your type?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Looking him up and down, you step closer, enough that your breath puffs against his chin. You smell like cheap coffee. “Tall, handsome doctors with messy, brown hair―” You lightly tug at one of his stray curls and he bites back a smile. 

“―and a cute nose―” Your hand moves to cup his cheek, bringing him down to peck the tip of his nose. It scrunches as Spencer breaks out into giggles. 

“―Who can recite classic literature. Who can bake like he belongs on The Great British Baking Show but can’t cook for shi―”

“Okay! Thank you, I get it,” Spencer says, almost completely relaxed now.

“Good,” You nod with finality. “And for your information, I wasn’t trying to make you jealous."

He raises an eyebrow. "So you just abandoned me and talked about another guy for the hell of it?"

Spencer's tone is casual, joking even but you know better. There's underlying bitterness and hurt and your heart squeezes because you did that. "No, of course not. There is a reason behind all that.“

“What could possibly excuse you going above and beyond your job as a mentor―”

“I was trying to set you guys up.”

Spencer deadpans. “Set me up? With him?” Oh god, he knows you’re weird, but he’s never considered you to be outright insane (is it weird he still loves you?).

As if reading his thoughts, you roll your eyes, “Spencer, how many friends do you have outside the team?”

“Not a lot.” No hesitation, but he accepted the fact a long time ago. 

“Yeah and that’s okay. But if you’d talk to Intern, you’ll find you two have a lot in common. I know he’s younger than us, but he’s a good kid, real smart,” You give him a meaningful look and shrug, “Not like IQ 187 smart but he could definitely hold a conversation with you.”

Spencer murmurs, pulling you in so you're chest to chest, “This entire time, you were really trying to make us friends?”

You nod, your expression a mix of giddiness and hope that makes whatever feelings he felt before, the confusion and―yes, fine―the jealousy, dissolve like sugar in water. Spencer sinks into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your soap. Of course you had good intentions. Of course you wanted to do something nice for him.

Fuck, he loves you.

“So… we good?”

Spencer huffs, “I hope you realize how much I suffered the past few weeks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Then yes, we’re good,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “I appreciate what you were trying to do.”

“And?”

His brow furrows and he pulls back, meeting your eyes. “And what?”

“Will you try to be friends?” You look at him expectantly.

Spencer opens his mouth to answer, a definitive no on his tongue, but then you’re giving him puppy-dog eyes and before he realizes it, “Okay.”

Wait, no. That is not what he meant to say.

“Yeah!” You throw your arms around him, and Spencer can’t stop you, grunting as you basically swing him around like a rag doll. But he finds he doesn’t care when you set him back down because you’re happy, happy for him, grinning ear to ear as you babble, “I can already tell you two are gonna be the best of friends! You guys have so much to talk about, all that nerdy stuff. Maybe even debate! And we could play chess and―”

There’s a knock and you both turn, a voice muffled by the door, “Hey, guys? I don’t want to interrupt in case you’re boning, but you didn’t exactly tell me where to wait for you? God, I hope you guys aren’t boning. Please tell me you’re not boning right now.”

You groan, “No Intern, we’re not boning! Right-uh-go ahead and meet me back at the office, I’ll be right with you.” You turn back to Spencer, sending him an apologetic look. “I will see you later, okay? And since you’ve been such a patient and understanding partner,” You plant him one last kiss before patting his cheek, and his eyes widen as your voice lowers in the way you know drives him crazy, your eyes glinting with mischief, “I’ll make it up to once we get home. Bye, love you!”

Before Spencer can fully register your words, you're out the door, cackling as you leave him to compose himself, his face beet red from running the possibilities. By the time he emerges from the break room, you’re long gone.

“Hi, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer almost snarls, cursing under his breath. Just when he thought the day was getting better. He turns back. 

Intern stands tall, relaxed and shoulders back, black tie loose and cheap white-collar button up slightly wrinkled. No doubt from working hard and following your instructions throughout the day. Spencer respects the work ethic at least. Meanwhile, the younger man eyes him, and he’s certain it’s not from intimidation but with curiosity.

Spencer doesn’t linger on that. He’s used to it, not being intimidating to others.

He continues, “It’s nice to finally talk to you, one on one I mean. I’m a fan of your work. Seven degrees, huh?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says curtly. Recalling the earlier conversation with you, he stamps down his irritation and tries to extend an olive branch. “How did you know?”

“It’s the internet, sir,” Intern raises an eyebrow, offering an innocent smile. 

“Right,” Spencer returns it with an awkward one of his own, “Hey, sorry for... literally kicking you out before. That was completely unprofessional.”

Intern waves him off, “No, it’s cool. I totally get it. I’m flattered, by the way.”

Spencer frowns. “Flattered?”

“Well, it’s not everyday you find out your superior’s jealous of you.”

Spencer blinks, and it takes all his experience as a profiler to mask his embarrassment. “You heard that.”

“The FBI’s got thin walls,” Intern shrugs and steps towards him. “Although I have to say, Agent (Your Last Name) is wrong about one thing.” Stopping short in front of him, for the first time Spencer is close enough to note the moles dotting his face. “They can’t tell that I’m flirting with them.” 

He starts down the hall after you, and Spencer’s eyes trail after him as his brow furrows, until realization slams into him and his jaw drops. “Wait, you...”

“Oh and since (Your Last Name) wants us to be friends, I think we could be on a first-name basis,” He pauses to look back at Spencer, watching with a crooked smile as the older man sputters. 

“So, you can call me Stiles, sir.”

Then once again, Spencer is left behind, frozen in the hallway as he processes what just happened.

And the next time he finds you and Special Agent Stilinski in the same room, whether it’s crowded or not, Spencer does not hesitate to cling to your side, putting as much distance between the intern and you as he can. Spencer’s grateful you don’t question it.

There may not be anyone else for you, but that doesn’t mean no one will try.

―

AN: ahhhhh thanks anon!! There was a similar request then i saw this tiktok (and listened to this tiktok the entire time) and i combined them. Id also like to emphasize that my version of reader is neutral across the board, race, gender, etc.

Yes, i have a type. No, i will not be taking criticism. 

Been hella overwhelmed with classes and work so here’s my way of destressing. Also suggest checking those tiktoks if you wanna understand me :))) also you mean to tell me i have to write the threesome myself?? Bs tbh 😔

watched 15x4 and i was so sad when Spencer addressed Luke as his coworker like no bitch hes your new bro stfu

and i have no doubt that stiles and spencer would be one of the best crossover duos given the chance 

[late-nite-scholar]

Day 4- Moonlight/Sacrifice

Prompt used- Moonlight

@tes-summer-fest

Wordcount- ~1191

Warnings: None

I wrote something a bit different today. Totally not in my normal tense or POV. And, I wanted to use a different character (Wolf Twin love will resume tomorrow, most likely). This is an alternative take on immediately post-Helgen Skyrim.

***

"Meet me in the hayloft, if you're still interested." Ralof’s voice, low and soft against your ear, makes your breath catch. His hand squeezes your shoulder gently, and then he's out the door.

You sit, frozen, listening to your heart beat ever faster. It’s so loud in your ears you’re sure Gerdur can hear it from across the room. You wait a few minutes, trying to calm your nerves. Gerdur notices as you stand and head for the door. She says nothing, but she knows where you're going, and why. You see a small smile lift the corner of her mouth, and you hope that means it's okay. You really hope so. You like Gerdur and her family. They’ve showed you more kindness than almost anyone else had since you came to this province. Only one has done more. 

And now, you're headed out to meet him. You're nervous, and you try to shake the feeling. This was your idea after all. You’d said it, almost impulsively, after the dragon had finally disappeared from sight. You'd been huddled together behind a large rock formation as it had flown overhead. As if to remind you that the whole ordeal had been real and not some terrible dream.

“There he goes. Looks like he’s gone for good this time.” Ralof had said. You’d looked at one another, and then back out again. But the dragon didn’t return, and you’d both begun to laugh. After everything, after it seemed like the whole world was trying to kill you, you’d sat together and laughed. Or at least you had, until your eyes had met his again. You weren’t sure who’d moved first; maybe you’d moved at the same time. You’d kissed; furiously, victoriously.

Then you’d said it. "How about we make it out of here in one piece, and then tonight, after we get to Riverwood, we celebrate our survival properly? You and me and somewhere private?"

Now you’re at the barn. Your feet brought you here while your thoughts were elsewhere. But you don’t hesitate, slipping inside and pulling the door closed. You aren’t entirely sure who the barn belongs to, but you don’t believe there to be any danger. You’d learned to trust one another during your escape, and you’d both proven yourselves worthy of it. You knew he could have left you behind multiple times, abandoned you to save himself at any time from the moment the dragon landed. And he knew you could’ve done the same; given him up to the Imperials to save your own skin. But instead you’d fought shoulder-to-shoulder, and earned your freedom together.   

The loft ladder waits, and you carefully climb up. The loft door is open, and moons-light streams in. A bedroll sits on a small pile of hay, a pack beside it. They match the ones that are sitting in Gerdur’s house right now, that you’ll take with you in the morning.

Ralof’s there, carefully resheathing a knife at his belt. He gives you a wry grin. “I can’t be too careful.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” you reply with a laugh.

Neither of you are interested in any further preamble, and soon hands and lips are moving across skin as clothes are discarded. You find your way to the bedroll, the sweet smell of hay surrounding you. The need overwhelms you; to feel his hands, his lips, his body on yours. A few scant hours ago, you’d knelt at the headsman’s block, already wet with another man’s blood, and watched the axe rise to take your head next. But you’ve both been given a second chance, and you plan to make the most of it. To make the most of this night. Because tomorrow you part ways, maybe forever.

But soon that thought is pushed from your mind. Perhaps it’s the rush of your escape, or the bond you’d made during it, or perhaps the gods themselves put you together, but Ralof seems to know every right place to touch you, every best place to kiss you. His hands are big and rough, but gentle. They move deftly over your body as if he’s always known it. His name falls from your lips over and over, and he whispers yours back like a prayer. The rest of the world retreats. There are no duties, no promises, no obligations here. There is only you and him, the sweetness of the hay, and the moons-light washing everything in silver.

Eventually, as it must, the night ends. You fall asleep in each other’s arms. You’ve never felt so safe. So cared for. You do not dream of the great, black dragon, nor of how you fought to escape its fire. You simply rest.

When you open your eyes, sunlight streams in through the loft door. You give a start. You’re alone. Icy cold twists your gut.

You’re alone.

“Did you think I was going to leave without saying goodbye?” He’s sitting to one side, eating breakfast. You see a second plate of food on a tray, and your pack beside it. He smiles, his eyes as bright and blue as the sky outside.

 “Gerdur had to head out early to the mill. But she sent along something for you to eat. Hard to travel on an empty stomach.”

 You come and sit beside him, but you pick at your food. Being reminded of what’s about to happen robs you of your appetite. It sits like a weight in your chest. You knew it was coming, but you’re still not ready.

He sees this, and puts a hand on your back. His fingers trace up and down your spine. “I’ve been thinking. Whiterun isn’t too far out of my way, and if we could get horses in the city it would make up for any lost time. If you think that’s a good idea?”

The plate drops from your hands. You turn and throw your arms around him. “You would really come with me?”

“Of course. We shouldn’t be traveling alone, anyway. Too dangerous. Better we stick together, right?”     

“Yes!”

He holds you tighter for a quick moment, and murmurs against your cheek, “and I can’t… I can’t bear the thought of leaving you.”

“And I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then we go together.”

When you leave Riverwood, you feel like you’re walking on air. You’ve both hidden your cloaks in the bottoms of your packs, and replaced them with ones of nondescript green. Ralof doubts you’d be welcome in Whiterun if you show up in full Stormcloak blue, and you’re inclined to agree. And taking Gerdur’s message is more important than politics right now. You’ll put them back on once you start out for Windhelm.

But none of that matters at the moment. You have Ralof by your side and the road in front of you. He smiles, brighter than the sun itself, and puts his arm around your shoulders.

“Should we go?” He asks, and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“Yes. We have a message, and we should see it gets delivered.”

“Lead on, then.”

And so you go into your destiny. But you don’t go alone.      

[ellana-ravenwood]

Can you be friend with your husband's ex-girlfriend ? - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : Everyone always think you and Selina Kyle don’t like each others, solely for the fact that she used to "date” your husband. But as usual in life, things are much more complicated than that...A fluffy Drabble mainly about how truly strong, Bruce and reader’s love is. 

Listen. My students were having quiet reading times, and I had a sudden burst of inspiration as one of them chose a French story in which a mother and a step-mother unite fronts to save their little magical kid (I love that story haha), and it suddenly inspired me. I LOVE Catwoman. Like. A lot. And in my head, her and Batmom have always been...Oh. No spoilers. The rest in this story ;). Hope you’ll like this little bonus story ! : 

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

“You look beautiful mom, do you have a date with father ? I thought date nights were on Thursdays.” 

You jumped a little in the air as your son’s voice resonate in the foyer. Definitely didn’t hear him, sneaky little bugger. You turn around towards him, and smile, saying : 

“It is on Thursdays, my little buddy. I’m having a girls night out, tonight.” 

“Girls night out ?” 

“Yes. You know, Cass and I are the only girls of the family. Sometimes we need to vent to our peers. Cass usually goes to see Steph and Babs, I go out with my friends.” 

You smile at him again, ruffling his hair, and he can’t help but chuckle a little bit. In recent months, Damian found that he actually loves, when the one he came to call “mom” (you), ruffled his hair. It made him feel like the little boy he was, as odd as it could sound to anyone not knowing him. 

“I didn’t know you went on such nights.” 

“I do, once a month. You just haven’t noticed because it’s usually on nights you’re out with your father rather early.” 

“I see. If it isn’t too -he hesitates- personal, can I ask with who you are going out ? Who are your friends ?” 

Your smile widens. Because just over a year back, that boy would’ve never cared about this. About who you hung out with, or about you in general. 

Ah, since he came in your life, he went a long way. The mere fact he wanted to know more about you was proof enough, and you felt absolutely touched. 

Even more so as you realized that he not only asked about your friends because he wanted to know you, but because he was a little worried about who you might spend time with, wether they’d put you in danger or not...So, oh so sweet. 

“Well, as cliche as it sounds, I’m going out with mainly other supermoms. We like to vent about...Things -you were aware that telling your son you and your friends love to vent about them wasn’t the best answer right now haha- So, Lois, you know her of course. Jon’s mom. There’s also Dinah, Connor’s mom. You saw him a few time at the Watchtower, although he’s quite younger than you so I don’t think you interact much. I bet you already know she’s Black Canary, and married to Green Arrow, I saw you snoop in your father’s files.” 

Your son’s face redden a little, but you give him a reassuring winks totally meaning : “I snooped around too”, and it makes him smile. You continue : 

“And finally there’s Diana. She’s not a mom yet, but she loooooves to listen to our stories. She’s also great at changing subjects and partying, who would’ve thought right ? I guess having thousand of years of practice helps. I’m sure you know she’s Wonder Woman eh. Oh, and of course, there’s Selina.” 

“Selina ?” 

“Yes.” 

“As in...Catwoman ?” 

“Yes ?” 

You can see your son wants to add something, and you’re pretty sure you know what it’s gonna be. But you let him ask naturally, leave him time to gather his thoughts and dare to ask. After all, you want to instal an atmosphere of trust, between you and your children. You want them to know they can always ask you anything. So you wait. Finally, Damian says : 

“Why are you meeting with this woman ? Don’t you like, hate her ?” 

"Why would I hate her ?” 

You know exactly why he’s thinking that. But you want him to elaborate, to make sense of his feelings about the subject. Simply, to talk. 

“Well...her and father used to...you know...” 

It’s not quite as formed as you were hoping for, but you do know. And at least, he tried. There was a time he would’ve just gotten mad you purposefully pretended not to understand his meaning, and would’ve left this instant.

You smile at him once more. To be honest, so many people thought you and Selina Kyle didn’t get along. 

You guess it would make sense, it’t true, she’s your husband ex after all. AND one of the only woman for whom he truly cared about. Those, were very few...

In fact, there was only three of you, in Bruce’s life, that truly made a difference. Sure, he had been infatuated before, with quite a few women. But only three, truly stood out. 

Talia Al’Ghul, of course. Not his first love (that was Julie Madison, although he was much too young to really know what love even was, and compared to you, it was just mild infatuation). But someone that used to be important nonetheless. The reason your sweet Damian (yes, sweet, especially when around you) was alive. 

She was important, once. When he was training under her father’s guidance, before he realized who Ras really was. 

Talia was a complicated woman who unfortunately could never truly get away from her upbringing, no matter how hard she tried. She was “too far gone”, by her own words. It was clear to Bruce, that if even herself thought she was un-savable, he couldn’t do much either. He did try, though. But it just never worked. 

You were certain that she left Damian in Bruce’s care, when the boy was barely ten, exactly because she didn’t want him to turn out like her. Which in itself, was a little redemption act, no ? At least, you thought so. 

Didn’t mean that you thought you could change her mind about those “world domination” plans that were ingrained in her mind since she was born. Fact is, she gave Damian a chance. 

You never hated Talia. You actually felt pretty sorry for her. 

She could’ve had such a different life, if, all those years ago, she had been able to leave her father. Not that you would want to, it’d mean that you and Bruce would never be (even if deep down, you knew that you and him would always end up together, no matter what...it would’ve just been a little lethal for you, if Talia was more around um um). 

Talia never even really tried to get “her” son back. It seemed she completely accepted to “give him” to you. She self-admittedly never really knew how to be a mother, and there was that time she had him killed because she thought it was meant to be...

Not that, anyway, you’d ever let that happen again. You made it very clear you wouldn’t. And your resolve and anger could be scary, even to Talia Al’Ghul.

Plus, the day she had Damian killed, she realized she didn’t want that...anyway long story short, she was no longer in his life. And although if one day she changed her mind and wanted to contact him again you wouldn’t oppose it, you knew Damian was yours. Everyone knew that if one day she would come back, beyond the fact you, Bruce, and his siblings would be here to protect Damian...The boy would never choose to go back to the Al Ghuls. 

He changed drastically, since he came with you. He was no longer her son. And she knew it. And didn’t interfere so far (and you knew she never would). 

He called YOU “mom”. He told YOU he loves you. You. Not her. he never interacted with you like he did with her anyway. And you still didn’t hate Talia. She was part of both Bruce, and Damian’s past (AUTHOR’S NOTE : a little reminder that Damian was born from a “test tube” with Bruce and Talia’s DNA (to simplify things), and had a surrogate mother to give birth to him (although sometimes he’s seen in literal “baby pods” like in Death Stranding haha). He was born A WHILE after Bruce left Talia and the League behind. He wasn’t born 9 months after. This is important infos so things fit timeline wise :)).

The second woman who had a great impact on your husband’s life, and who used to be “his”, was...Selina Kyle. 

For a long time Bruce felt like she was the only one to understand him. The only one accepting him for who he was, with no compromise. The only person on this Earth that wouldn’t try to change him. And although things were often “on and off”, and complicated, it was nice, to feel like he belonged. And Selina... Selina was the only one giving him this feeling. 

But...Well, he was wrong.  

Because then, you, the “third” and yet most important woman in his life, appeared. 

You arrived years after his love story with Talia, and quite a while after he started to realize him and Selina were maybe not meant to be. Too many differences, even as they understood each others (or at least he thought they did).

Then you barged in. A bit younger than him. Unafraid to be yourself, bold and utterly stubborn. Turning his world upside down, and making him reconsider if he ever knew what the word “love” meant before you.  

But that, was another story. Anyone seeing you with him, and particularly the way he looked at you, would instantly know how crazy he was about you. How desperately in love he was. 

Right now, the question wasn’t about how strong your bond was, and how he never loved anyone like he loves you. 

Nope. Right now, it was all about how you didn’t hate his exes (not even Talia). How anyway, they were part of his life at some point, that was a fact you could never change. 

Before you, Bruce had a past. Past. 

A past. A path. A path that lead him to you. A path that taught him to not make the same mistakes he made before, and a path that showed him it was you. That it has always been you. 

A past path, that couldn’t compare to his present with you. 

You didn’t even feel particularly jealous of them, you knew how Bruce felt about you, and that they were just that...part of his past. 

Now, sure. You would probably never even be friendly with Talia. Who she was and what she stood for made it so. The opposite of you, really. 

But Selina ? Well. Selina was another story. 

You smile at your son, and say : 

“Do you think of Selina and I as “conventional women” ? “

His answer came without a second of hesitation, Damian didn’t even have to think to say what he thought of your question : 

“Certainly not.” 

“Exactly. Now. Maybe society teaches girls they should instantly hate their boyfriend’s ex, but I chose not to listen. It’s a toxic view of life, and not all exes are crazy jealous psychos as the people make it sound ? Sometimes, like in your father and Selina’s case, the relationship ends on good terms. Selina is a great woman. As soon as she knew your dad and I were actually a thing, she backed off.” 

Well. That wasn’t entirely true. She backed off of Bruce. But she still LOVED driving him crazy jealous by openly flirting with you. 

“And I know how your dad feels about me. I trust him, too. Trust is important, you know that now right ? -he nods- So. Why would I hate someone I have a lot in common with, and with whom I’d probably be friend anyway if you father wasn’t in the picture ?” 

“I...I guess you wouldn’t ?” 

“And I indeed don’t.” 

Your son was visibly confused, and you couldn’t blame him really. 

Because of how the World was, but also because of who raised him (Talia was...a jealous woman), you understood how he couldn’t quite understand you not feeling threaten in the least by the fact Selina was your Broosh’s ex. So you say, kissing his forehead :

“I’ll tell you a few stories, soon. And I think you’ll get it.” 

“Ok, mom.” 

You smiled. He hadn’t call you “mom” for very long, and you quickly noticed he used every opportunity to use the word. It melted your heart. 

“Now, I have to go ! If I’m late, Diana is going to fly me out of here, and your father HATES when she does that. Goodnight baby, see you soon. Make sure to eat a proper dinner. I told Alfred but I trust you to listen. And force your dad to have one too, when I’m not here, he forgets things...even as important as literally feeding himself. Too engrossed in his project, you know. Anyway, love you. Good night !” 

“Good night, mom.” 

And with a last smile, you go out and leave behind a son that has a LOT of things to think about. 

************

A few days later, it was Damian’s mandatory night off and he was going to bed early. Your orders. You convinced him, by promising to read him a bedtime story.

Many would think your son was too proud to even admit you still read him stories before bed, even as he was approaching the age of 12. But many would be wrong. 

If there was something Damian wasn’t afraid of, it was to tell the world how much of a mamma’s boy he was. Nobody could blame him, he never really had a “real” mom. Not one like you, at least, who taught him with love and patience, and not hired assassins and blood. 

“Ok Little Buddy, what will it be tonight ?” 

"The story of how you became friend with Catwoman ?”

Your taken aback for a few seconds, you had totally forgotten about telling him about your “girls night out”. But then you smile, settle down next to him on his bed, and as he threw his heavy and comfortable quilt on both of you, you start your story. 

The day she saved your life. 

The first time you realized you and Selina could very well become friends one day, was that time she literally saved your life. Definitely a hint that she didn’t hate you, at least. 

And you ? Sure, at first you were a little insecure because you knew she was Bruce’s ex and Selina was...Well she was a gorgeous woman, smart, witty, and very VERY hot. 

But after seeing her a few times there and there, and seeing how she interacted with Bruce...you knew Selina Kyle was not the “home wrecker” time. That she would never try anything with him, as long as she knew you two were a thing. 

Sure she was a thief, unscrupulously taking whatever she wanted from whomever she wanted...but “someone else’s man” was definitely where she drew a limit. She felt absolutely no pleasure being a mean spirited person. 

And she saw how happy Bruce was with you...Which lead to that fateful night during which you two started to get closer. 

Because sure, you fought off your insecurities about her being his ex, but you weren’t exactly friendly. You just...knew of each others. 

The change happened not long after Bruce made it official with the media that he was no longer “Gotham’s most eligible bachelor”, and was in a serious relationship with you. 

To your surprise, the people in the city took it really well. Bruce was a beloved figure, they were happy that after years of clearly love life instability, he found someone. Sure, a few women and men had their heart broken, their dreams shattered, and were totally jealous of you but...

Anyone seeing you with him just instantly knew you guys were the real deal. That it was true love, as cheesy as it sounded. It was just that obvious. 

Maybe too obvious. 

Clearly, soon, everyone in Gotham knew how much Bruce Wayne cared about his girlfriend. How he would do anything for her. And...Well. 

This was Gotham. Do you get the picture ? 

It was a time during which you hadn’t moved in with him just yet. You’d do that only a few months later, not long before you and Bruce would adopt Dick. 

But for now, you still had your studio apartment in the heart of Gotham (refusing to take any handouts from Bruce, who could definitely get you a better place), and you were going back there after a few meeting with your publishers. 

You were suppose to meet Bruce the next day, as tonight, he was working on some important “Batcases”. You didn’t mind too much. Sometimes, it was nice to be alone with yourself, gave you a moment of self-care and calm. 

You loved Bruce of course, and loved being with him, but it was still nice to have some alone time nonetheless. 

Anyway. You were walking back, feeling rather good about the bath bomb that was waiting for you back home (it was from your favorite artisanal shop, a gift from Bruce, who definitely had no qualms buying you hundreds of dollars worth of bath bombs haha...If he couldn’t help you get a better apartment, didn’t mean he wasn’t gonna spoil you otherwise). 

That’s when it happened. You never even saw it coming. One second you were walking down the street, the next you had a damp towel around your mouth and nose, and everything went to black. 

************

You woke up in a warehouse. By the salty smell in the air though, you guessed you were somewhere on the docks. Which didn’t tell much, there was a lot of docks, in Gotham. Perks of living on a city with a seafront view ?

There was a group of men in a corner, playing cards. In front of you, a camera. You were gagged, your arms and legs were bound, and your head hurt like hell. 

“Hey, she woke up.”  

A shuffling to your side. The men playing cards were moving. They came to you, one turned the camera on. The other one put on some headphones and slowly directed a mic towards you, as the last man pulled on a ski mask and settled in front of the camera. 

Nothing made sense to you. Until the man in front of the camera started to talk. 

“Bruce Wayne. We have your girlfriend. If you don’t bring us-” 

Oh. Oh. You were kidnapped. And those men wanted a ransom. An insane amount of money. That you knew Bruce had, but still. Ah. 

You had to get out of here. You had to. 

You looked around you, nothing. And there were the three men. Oh. Oh but the edges of your chair were sharp. And if you slowly made a back and forth movement with your wrists, you could see it slowly cutting the ropes. And so, you got to work.  

Only...

“Believe me, we won’t hesitate to hurt her. Here, a proof of “good faith”.”

Huh ? OUTCH ! The man in front of the camera had just almost knocked you out with the force of his punch in your jaw. You were wondering if he hadn’t broken it. You couldn’t quite think anymore, and could feel the tears slowly falling on their own from your eyes... 

Damn, it hurt. You didn’t see it coming either, too focused on slowly cutting the ropes while making sure they didn’t notice. 

“Ok, I think that’s good. Whaddaya think, Rupert ?”

“We can do another take if you want, and then edit the punch in ? I’m not sure she can handle another hit like that, she looks pretty shaken up.” 

“Ah well we-”

“Oooooh booyyys !” 

Your ears were ringing, everything was blurry, and your head hurt so much. But you definitely recognized that voice. 

“Catwoman, you’re early.” 

Huh ? What was she doing here... 

“Well, I thought I’d pop in a little earlier knowing you boys would be around. I’m sort of in a hurry. I accept cash of course, as usual. I think you’ll find the array of jewelries I brought today to be...What the hell are you doing ?”

“Mm ? Oh, her ? A little side operation. She’s Bruce Wayne’s sweetheart. Rumors has it he’d burn the world for her, we thought we’d take advantage of it and expend our business.” 

“That’s quite a jump from fencing stolen jewelries, to kidnapping, isn’t it ?” 

The man shrugged, and turned back to you. 

“Well, you don’t achieve anything if you don’t start new ventures. And there’s big money to be made here. For sure. That idiot Wayne will pay up, there’s no doubt.” 

You heard the click-clacks of heels, and a shadow came into your vision. 

“What did you do to her, you animals ?” 

“Just a punch. And maybe we weren’t too delicate with her when we moved her to our van, and then here. But it’s fine. Nothing too bad really.” 

Slowly you were regaining your vision. And the pain was retrieving. You had never been punched before. You kinda hope it would never happen again... 

The way those thugs were talking about the all thing was so casual, from them talking about how they’d edit the video destined to Bruce, to how they were just saying they were expanding their operation...For a little bit, you almost forgot you were from Gotham.

Gotham. 

America’s capital of crime. 

Where little thugs like those ones were plenty. 

Men who thought they could “make it big”.

Gotham.

A place that bred someone like your Bruce, and his nightly activities... 

Selina’s voice raised again, harsh and dry : 

“I give you all the things I stole in the past month, in exchange of her.” 

There’s a short silence, followed by a chuckle from one of the man, clearly the leader, who answers : 

“Oh please. We ain’t stupid. We know her value. And we know someone like you, wouldn’t trade anything in for her if she wasn’t valuable. You’re not exactly known to be a nice woman.” 

There’s a hint of anger crossing Selina’s face, and you immediately understand where it comes from. Sure. She was a thief. A criminal. And sometimes, she’d rough up some security guards, or some fellow criminals that think they could cross her. 

But she was no brute. 

She would never NEVER kidnap anyone, and especially not an innocent. 

She protected children, and defenseless woman in her neighborhood, and whenever she could. She wasn’t exactly a hero, like Bruce; That’s for sure. But she wasn’t a bad person. No. She wasn’t. 

And those guys words ? Just infuriated her. 

“Mm. Too bad for you. Don’t go out and say I didn’t give you a chance. Really, too bad. I liked doing business with you.” 

“What are you-”

In an instant, Selina sprout in action, and knocked the three men out before they could even realize. That was impressive. Even gagged, you could hear yourself utter a “wow” as she rushed back to you to untie you. 

She smiled as she saw you made a good way through the ropes, and were most likely be able to get out of your bounds at some point. You were glad you didn’t though, because you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do once free ? 

You fall forward on the floor and she catches you. Your head is still ringing, as you look at Selina. 

There is genuine concern on her face. 

How odd. 

"Are you okay ?” 

“Yes, I’m fine.” 

“Good. Cause I refuse to be the one telling Bruce the person he loves the most in this world died. Again.” 

“Yes. Thank you I-I...”

“Hey, are you okay ? (Y/N) ? (Y/N) ??” 

You could hear Selina call to you, and it felt like her voice was slowly fading into the distance...The adrenaline gone, the stress of it all gone, you had simply passed out. 

************

“Is she alright ?!” 

Bruce arrived, bursting through a window, and ran to you. Your head was in Selina’s lap (she felt bad just leaving you laying down there on the hard concrete ground), and she was casually sitting, her back against a container. 

She was surrounded by the knocked out bodies of your aggressors. 

“Yes. Yes she’s just sleeping. She got roughed up a little bit, but I checked. Nothing too bad. It’ll leave a few bruises. Nothing time cannot heal.” 

After saving you, totally by chance, Selina called Bruce on his red phone, so he would know it’s an emergency. 

It didn’t even take him more than ten minutes to drop the case he was working on, cross town, and arrive. 

He kneeled next to you, and checked every part of you to make sure Selina was right. But it did appear you were just asleep. The shock was too big, probably. 

“How did you know she was here ?” 

“I didn’t. It was all luck. Those men were some...um...Associates of mine.” 

“You have associates that kidnap women ?” 

There was anger in Bruce’s voice, but Selina knew better than to think it was aimed at her. No. It was anger he felt towards those men who hurt you, and towards himself, too, as he wasn’t there to take care of you. 

“No. She’s their first.” 

He looks at you, with a longing and love in his eyes that he never looked at Selina with. She recognizes it instantly. He’s more in love with you than he ever been with her. Was it even really love, between them, or a strong friendship ? Sometimes, the two were difficult to dissociate.

She stares at him, because it’s quite something, to see the Batman himself so desperately in love that he dropped everything he was doing to run to you, knowing that you were safe. 

It’s quite something, to see the Batman himself ready to give it all up just for one person. Something he was never willing to do before. Never willing to do with Selina... 

She stares at him, and smiles. An almost sad smile, because it hurts a bit, he never looked at her like that. But a smile nonetheless, because she knows now for sure, that he found his true love. 

Nobody would peg Catwoman for a romantic, but oh, oh she was a hopeless sap. Especially when it touched her dear friends. 

Bruce looks at her, and mistakes that look in her eyes for something that isn’t there. She can see it instantly. He thinks she’s sad, that she’s truly hurt he found someone else. That he moved on. 

She’s not. But of course, he would think so. 

“Selina I-”

“Don’t Bruce. It’s ok. You and I were never meant to be together, and we knew it. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friend. I actually think we work better, as friends, don’t you ? Take care of her. She’s definitely a keeper.” 

You slowly shift in Bruce’s arms, and he takes a look at you. At your wounds. His heart tightens, and he holds you with more force. 

“Thank you.” 

He barely whispers it, but Selina hears him. She smiles at him, happy that her friend found happiness. True happiness. 

All she ever wanted for Bruce, was for him to find a way to be happy. Clearly, she wasn’t that. But you...You definitely were. 

“I don't know what I would’ve done if she...” 

“Hey, hey come on Bat. Don’t think about this. She’s fine. Just tired from the shock. She’ll recover, she’s strong. And you’ll be here, right ?” 

“...Yes.” 

He didn’t sound too convince, and Selina could feel a big urge to slap him across the face. Because she knew what he was thinking. And he’d better not do it. 

“Bruce if you-”

“Thank you, Selina. I’m going to take her home, now. She needs the rest. And-And I do too.” 

And on that note, he exited the warehouse, holding you tight in his arms. And oh. Oh Selina hoped to everything she held sacred (and that wasn’t a lot of things) that he wouldn’t be a stupid idiot. 

The day she saved his heart. 

He couldn’t stop thinking of that time you got hurt. Because of him. Because he was Bruce Wayne...What if anyone got wind that he was Batman ? 

It’d be even worst. If someone like the Joker, or Penguin ever knew who he really was (and that was definitely a possibility), being with you would sign your death. 

He had to-

“Oh god Bruce you are SO cliche.” 

He slightly jumped in the air as Selina casually sat down beside him, looking down to the dark streets below. There was a slight fog, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at how even the weather decided to join in ont he stereotype. 

“Excuse me ?” 

“You’re a living cliche. What, brooding all alone on a rooftop, on a full moon night, wondering if you should ruin your life or not, sacrifice your own happiness for dumb reasons.” 

“What ?” 

“What, breaking up with her to protect her ? Really ? Do you even know how dumb that sounds ?” 

“I didn’t-”

“Your thoughts are plain to see. I know you, Bruce. And I noticed your face, ever since she got hurt. And what you’re thinking? Leaving her for her own safety ? D-U-M-B. So dumb.”

“Did you not pay attention to the close call she just had ?!” 

“I was there to save her. And if I wasn’t, you would’ve barged in and save her. Or better yet, when I arrived, she had made her way half way through her bounds by slowly cutting it on the edge of her chair ! She might’ve escaped on her own !”

“Or gotten killed.” 

“But she’s alive.”

“No thanks to me.” 

“So what, you renounce happiness because maybe one day she’ll be in danger ? This is Gotham, Bruce. She is always in danger. And if you leave her alone, like I know you’re thinking about, she will definitely be an easy target. It’s not because you break up with her that people will stop thinking you care about her. In fact, after she got attacked like that, and it was made public, I bet the opposite will happen. Criminals in Gotham are a lot of things, but dumb is unfortunately not one of them. They WILL come after you if you leave her to fend for herself. If you break up.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do know that. Come on Bruce. I was born here. You too. And her too. Hell, I saw her give a nasty right hook to more than one person, in the short time I’ve known her ! One of those being Mayor Hady himself, and that was BEFORE she started to date you, how fearless is she, huh ?” 

“That’s the problem.”

“Her fearlessness ? Sounds to me like it to be taken advantage of. Train her. Teach her to fight, to defend herself. Give her the keys, to survive. Just like you gave yourself the keys to go on your “justice” mission.” 

“I...I can’t.”

“Why ?” 

“Because she...She shouldn’t live this kind of life.” 

“A little late, no ? She knows who you really are already. And she stayed. Even then, shouldn’t this be her own choice ? Shouldn’t she decide on what she deserves ?” 

“Selina-” 

“Nu-hu. Don’t start with this. You tried to do the same with me, and I didn’t have the patience to stay. But I know she does. I know you can try to push her through the front door, she’ll climb through the window. She, unlike me or anyone else, will see right through your bullshit. Does, see right through your bullshit. And is willing to put up with it...You’ll never find someone else who does.” 

“I know...”

“Then, what are you doing ?”

And with that, Selina rolled her eyes, grumbled something about him being a stubborn idiot, said : “think of her feelings for once, and not your own. Because you damn well know Bruce, that if you leave her, it will be out of selfishness, not because you think it’s truly the only way.”, and jumped from the building to the one next door, leaving Bruce with too many thoughts and dilemmas...

Even if in the end, the answer became obvious to him.   

************

“As if I would ever let that happen anyway.” 

“I’m sorry ?” 

Years later, Bruce told you the story of how he almost broke up with you not long after you two moved in together, shortly before you adopted Dick. 

“She was right you know ? I would’ve climbed through the window. See. If I knew for sure you were leaving me because you didn’t love me, then I would leave you alone of course. But I would’ve definitely called your bluff.” 

“How can you be so sure ?” 

He smiles fondly at you, bringing you into a warm embrace as you roll your eyes at him. Ah but of course, even him always knew you could see right through him, even when he tried to hide his emotions. 

“Please, Bruce. You can’t fool me. You were never able to, and I don’t think you’ll ever learn to. Or I’ll just learn your new tricks, and crack you anyway. And believe me, if you had tried to leave me at that time...I wouldn’t’ve let that happen.” 

He lays his forehead on yours, unable to say another word. Tonight, he was able to tell you this story that was now “silly”, but that almost tore his heart away from him. 

Because if he had lose you to his own stupidness, he would’ve become just an empty shell. Back to those dark days of loneliness, and acting like a machine while his entire soul was hurting. 

Sure. Now this story sounded silly. But oh, oh if he had gone through with it. If-

“I’ll have to thank Selina though. Because she avoided me going through the trouble of drilling into your thick skull that it’s ok to be happy. And be afraid for those you love. Especially in your situation...” 

“I know.” 

He holds you tighter. Just as every time he realizes how lucky he is to have another shot at this “family” thing. How lucky he is, that you’re here, with him. 

And Selina was truly to thanks for that, in a way. 

Because, you were almost sure you could’ve change his mind and not break up with you. But there was this slight possibility, this slight one you’d fail...

Maybe you would’n’t’ve been able to convince him to stay with you. Maybe. There was still a chance, right ? So you’re thankful. Your thankful for having such a good friend. For having Selina in your life. 

You’re thankful that one day, a stupid mistake you made truly started this dear friendship. 

The day she became a friend. 

You had always been quite a “lone wolf” sort of person. So you didn’t have a lot of friends. Your childhood best friend, Alex, had moved across the country years ago. And making new friends as the wife of Bruce Wayne was hard. 

This was a time BEFORE you met the others from the League. BEFORE any of them knew the Batman had a family. 

Of course, before introducing you to them, he had to make sure things were safe. That they could be trusted (A/N : if you wanna see the day he does trust them, here’s the story I wrote about it haha : “You have kids ?? And…A WIFE ?”). 

So, you didn’t have many friends. And sometimes...You wished you did. 

Someone that wasn’t your Broosh. Or your kid. Or Alfred. 

You told everything to Bruce, but sometimes...Well sometimes certain issues, you couldn’t talk to him about. Like for example the time he annoyed the hell out of you. Sure you’d tell it to his face, and you guys would fight, then work it out, and finally  make up, and you didn’t want to bring back the issues you know ? You wouldn’t vent to him about him, eh ?

Bruce was definitely your best friend. But he was also the man you loved. And sometimes, it was nice to have an “outside” perspective. 

Someone with whom you could gossip a little (although you did gossip plenty with your husband, when at charity balls and galas). 

And then, slowly, you realized what you actually were feeling...

Selina. 

You were missing her. 

It had been a little while since the last time you saw her. 

Ever since she saved your life, and knocked some sense in your Broosh, whenever you saw her, you’d have such a interesting and compelling conversations. 

It was oh so pleasant, to gang up on Bruce and make fun of him. His pride was always hit, and he’d frown in such a delightful way. 

At the same time, she knew him rather well, and you knew him rather well, and you three had a lot in common and it sometimes felt like you were a trio from a very cliched “chosen one” story. 

Hermione, Ron, Harry. 

Percy, Annabeth, Grover. 

Any trio really. It even inspired some of your stories. Yet...Yet you wouldn’t call her quite a “friend”. Why that ? 

You weren’t sure. It just was never made official, and in your anxiety riddled mind it meant that you weren’t friends, then. 

Yet you missed her. And earlier in the day, you saw something that made you want to call her and talk to her about it ! 

Should you call her ? Send a text ? You had her number. She once wrote it on a napkin and slipped it in your pocket right in front of Bruce, just to mess with him. You kept it, and put it in your phone, not really knowing why. 

Taking your phone, you started to draft a text (it had to be drafted before being send, it you were even going to send it...your anxiety made it so that even with texts, you had to make sure you didn’t sound stupid or such). 

You didn’t really have any intention to send it. You were just toying with a few ideas when...

No. Oh no. 

Oh fuck. No. No no no no no no. 

Instead of hitting the “back” key to erase the text for good and move on from this weird move, you pressed “send”. Shit. Fuck. Motherfucker. 

It was such a dumb text as well. 

“Hey girlfriend, wanna hang out ?” 

You were just trying out different ways of writing a text, and were entering “stupid silly mode”, which was the step right before you usually gave up and didn’t send something (you had MANY of those moments when starting to date Bruce...Moments during which you almost send some really sappy and silly texts, making the mistakes a few time to indeed press “send”...mortifying...why, why were you never learning from your mistakes ?!). 

You were in your office, in the Wayne Inc building (you settled your writing office there, so it was more convenient to see your Bruce, but also to handle taking care of your son, Dick), downright panicking about this stupid text, when you heard a knock on your door. 

How long had you been beating yourself down about this ? AN HOUR ?! Damn. Anxiety never let you keep track of time. You-

“Hey...girlfriend.”

Bollocks. 

It was her. Selina. And you could hear her smug smile in her voice. You were facing your windows, not wanting to turn around, and it was getting a little awkward. Selina broke the silence : 

“Listen, I thought you did want to hang out and was just making an inside joke by being overly girly, you know, imitating those models Bruce used to date ? But I realize maybe this was um, a mistake ?” 

She sounds so unsure. You never heard her sound unsure before ! So you turn around, and here she is, a little shy. 

Catwoman. A little shy ? 

And all of a sudden, you realize she must’ve felt the same about you. Consider you a friend, but since you never talked about it never took it for granted, for something sure, settled in stone ? 

And your text maybe confirmed you were, indeed, friends ? 

And here it was. 

From that day, and on. 

The official beginning of your friendship. 

Of course, you both saw the other as a friend since a while before, but it’s with this embarrassing text that it really changed everything. 

Made it “official”. 

Made it clear to the both of you. 

It never occurred to you that Selina too, could sometimes have insecurities and be anxious. But that day, as she shyly responded to your call, hopeful it meant you were really friends...

Being her, it was also hard to make friend. 

She had been friend with Bruce for a long time. The fact she was yours now too, filled her with joy. Because she really liked the both of you, in the most platonic way that ever existed. 

Yes. Her and Bruce worked better as friends anyway. 

Ah. But wasn’t this how the best friendship started ? With a push from fate, a little awkwardness, and a lot of laughter once the initial shock passed ? 

Girls night out. 

It happened a day during which you, Dinah and Lois were...not in a great mood. 

Your husbands were aggravating, your children got into troubles and shenanigans, you had so much to do...it was a lot of stress, and it was all released at the same time. 

You all left your house yelling that you “needed air”, and left behind rather stunned husbands and children. Ah but yes, everything wasn’t always perfect, even amongst loving families.

And your first reflex ? To call each others. 

That’s it. That’s how girls night out started. The realization sometimes you needed to wind down with some friends. But quickly, you realized that the three of you talked mainly about your kids and husbands, and by extension, the “superhero work”. Which was fine, you needed to vent but...It wasn’t helping you relieve some tension. 

And that’s when you got an idea. 

Who better than Selina Kyle to make you NOT talk about your families ? 

You joined in a bar every first Wednesday of the month, starting at happy hours for you, Dinah and Lois. Ranting about your families, and about annoying habits your husbands had etc etc...And then you were joined a bit later in the evening by Selina and Diana. 

And that’s when the fun really began. 

It became a ritual. 

Girls night out (A/N : maybe I should write a story about that one day haha). 

This was one such night, and you had let lose a little bit more than usual because...for the first night in nine months, you could drink a little bit of alcohol. 

Alcohol had never been your thing, but a sweet cocktail there and there was nice. Now, while being pregnant with your youngest, Thomas, obviously you weren’t going to do that. 

And you had missed a few “girls night out” because you were too damn pregnant. 

But now, he was OUT, and you were TOO. 

Well. Diana said something like that, as she kept giving you more and more cocktails. 

Long story short, you were a little tipsy. And definitely not able to drive. And so here was your savior, Selina. 

She didn’t really drink, knowing you would totally let loose. So she drove you home. 

You were coming back a little later than usual, and you had forgotten to send a little text to Bruce to tell him so so he wouldn’t worry (Selina did it for you though, true friend had your back eh ? And she definitely didn’t want the Batman to come barge in on your girls night fun). 

He opened the door as you walked up the stairs, saying bye to Selina. She had that smirk on her face, the one you knew she always had when about to tease your beloved husband. And as he slipped an arm around your waist, and turned to wave goodbye to her...She did just that : 

“Careful Bat, I’m making good progress with her. If you’re not wary enough, I’ll steal her from you.” 

On that note, Selina winks at the both of you, puts on her sunglasses (while it was night...Oh Selina), and drives away, smiling widely of that very Catwomanesque smug smile. Which makes you chuckle. She always made you laugh rather easily. 

You turn to your bruce and...

Oh. That adorable “jealous frown” got you every time. Your smile shifts from amused to utterly affectionate, and you put your hands on his cheeks. 

He was looking at Selina’s car fading into the distance, the arm he had around you tightening slightly (you were pretty sure he wasn’t even consciously doing it). Your hands on his cheeks didn’t seem to register in his mind. 

So a further distraction was needed. You brush your lips against his cheek, as an attempt to drive his attention back to you and...it works. 

You smile at him, and in your little hazy state you whisper in his ear : 

“I love you, my Broosh.” 

He can’t help but feel a surge of warm feelings towards you, and bring you in a tight hug. Partly because he can’t help it, partly because he’s trying to hide the slight blush growing on his face whenever you surprise him with “I love yous”, and that always made him snicker at him...Only you could fluster him so. 

“I love you too.” 

You tripped on air, as, once again, you were a little tipsy, and he catches you...Good, he needed an excuse to carry you bridal style anyway. 

He always liked doing so, any excuse to have you near really. And as your face approach for a loving kiss you-

************

“Wait wait wait mooooom !! You don’t have to leave this gross part in !” 

“What gross part ?” 

“The sappy declaration of love, and the kiiiisses !!” 

“Oh ? But don’t every story have to end with a kiss ? And a happy ever after ?” 

“Nu-huh ! Also HEY ! None of your stories end like this, I know, I read them all !”

You chuckle slowly at your boy’s reaction, and kiss him on the forehead. Quite touched he read all your stories. 

“Time for bed, little buddy.” 

You say, slipping out of his quilt and tucking him in. You can see he pensively thinks about your little friendship story, and finally he says : 

“I’ll try to be nicer to Miss Kyle. I never trusted her, because of her past with father. But maybe she deserves a chance ?” 

“She does.” 

“If you say so, then I believe it.” 

It touches you, how much blind faith your son puts in you. You smile, giving him another kiss to his forehead, as he says : 

“Thank you for telling me the story, mom. It was nice.” 

Behind this “it was nice”, there isn’t just the story itself, but the knowledge that as you grow up...Your feelings change. 

You change. 

And you go through a lot of heartaches, before finally finding the right persons to surround yourself with. 

Beyond the story itself, Damian related to how it took both you and Bruce a lot of trials and errors, before finding each others. How you loved before you met the other, but it never compared to how you love each others. 

How you found good friends along the way, and how even when things sounded desperate and lonely...you made it through. 

So he could certainly do so, too ? Even more so since now, he was a big brother. 

Thomas was barely a few weeks old, but Damian had already taken his role very seriously. And you knew he was going to continue to grow, to love, to hurt too sometimes...and to evolve. 

Just like you and Bruce did. 

So. No. You didn’t hate Selina Kyle just because she and your husband used to be a thing. In fact...

In fact, Selina had become both of your best friend. Unfortunately for Bruce, she often took your side on everything, and LOVED to drive him crazy by openly flirting with you. 

And she had been by your side through many good moments, and bad ones. The first to respond when your family needed it. The one you’d always be there for, and vice versa. 

A best friend. 

Quite an important find. 

When you met Bruce, not only did you meet the love of your life, but also one of your best and most precious friend. 

Conclusion : is it possible to be friend with your husband’s ex ? Absolutely. 

Especially when that “ex” was someone as extraordinary as Selina Kyle, and when the love that linked you and your husband was so impossible to even graze. 

__________________________________________________

And yet another bonus story that I had no intention to write but suddenly felt the need to haha. Don’t worry, the rest of the stories I announced are still coming ;). I guess there’s nothing bad in having little bonus ones in between hehe. I hope you liked this, again it’s just a little drabble.

As usual comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated and motivating <3.

PS : I wrote this, like all drabbles, in like thirty minutes. Didn’t re-read. Sorry for any typos. Don’t hesitate to point any huge ones to me, Ill change it x_x. 

[seijoh-apologist]

stupidly in like with you | miya atsumu

pairing: post-timeskip!miya atsumu x f!reader word count: 14.6k (OOPS LMFAO) genre: friends to lovers, fluff, hurt(?)/comfort, and like a few too many pages of fluffy smut -- third person pov for the most part. NSFW. synopsis: Atsumu and Y/N are good friends, maybe feelings are involved but Y/N isn’t his type. OR Y/N and Atsumu are most definitely in like with each other but for whatever reason aren’t dating.

A/N: hi so this is my first “published” hq fic but like here is this thought that I had and haven’t been able to get it out of my head. it’s mostly edited thanks to my irl friend but bare with my run on sentences and (slightly excessive) use of profanity. any feedback would be appreciated b/c I have more thoughts for other characters and I'd love to share haha. 

To say Y/N was annoyed was an understatement.

Aching feet begged for relief, the sweat-soaked shirt, though cute, had begun to cling to that one fold in her side that made her the slightest bit hyper aware of the “stress weight” she swears she's put on during the holiday season. And the music was absolute shit, shuffling between mash-ups of the Top 100 trending songs and some weird EDM-Indie music that she would pay good money to never hear again.

To put it plainly, she was not in the mood to be out of her home, much less celebrate. But she had agreed to come out, never being able to say no to Sakusa, who silently pleaded with his eyes to take on “babysitting” responsibilities of his teammates for tonight. He had paid for her dinner several times before tonight, claiming that she should save her money - “you should spend your money on getting a better mattress, so we don’t have to hear you complain about it anymore.” - the least she could do was give him a night to himself, away from the chaos that was the rest of the MSBY team.

Besides, it's not like she was asked to stalk them or anything - they were friends after all, so really it was just like she was tagging along for a night of club hopping, taking shots that she didn’t have to pay for, and simply people watching in between trips to the dancefloor. And normally, she’d be enjoying the night - it's just that of all nights to come out and celebrate, it had to be at the end of one of the most stress-inducing, aggravating weeks of her young adult life.

Checking that it was well after one in the morning, she sipped water from her straw, swivelling to face the crowd from her (stolen) seat at the bar, in hopes of catching the attention of someone in her party that could get the hint that they should probably get ready to go. What she did not expect to find, however, was Atsumu, flitting his eyes away from her figure as he leaned down to talk to a pair of girls. It could just be a friendly gesture, asking him if he was who they think he was and him responding but it sent a less than pleasant feeling in her stomach, so she swiveled back, reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her suddenly too tight pants.

“Fuck me,” she huffs out upon seeing that her phone battery has fallen to thirty percent, which would be just delightful when it would be time to call the ubers home. She could now rule out aimlessly scrolling through Twitter for the rest of the night while waiting for her friends.

“Uh.. maybe slip in a ‘please’ and I’m yours.”

Y/N’s eyes all but bugged out her head at the response that came from her left. The voice belongs to a guy, a very cute guy. The kind of cute guy that you see on Instagram explore page before it refreshes so the chances of seeing him again are nonexistent.She sputters out a delayed apology, double-time since she realized that she’s now taken a little too long to respond to him, to which he laughs and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I should be apologizing for interrupting you, it's just.... You looked a little lonely over here. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Seat’s all yours... but you’re on your own if those people from before come back to reclaim them.” She hums, sliding her phone back into her pocket and shifting her legs slightly in the direction of his seat.

“Scared of a little fight?” He hums, arching a brow before taking a swig of his beer. He has nice hands. Y/N muses to herself as she watches the stranger’s fingers flex slightly around the neck of his beer bottle. She’s always of the mind that a person’s hands say a lot about them.

“Mmm no… just too tired to defend myself, much less a random stranger.” He laughs at that, nodding his head before replying that “most pretty girls don’t openly say they can fight.”

“Oh you’re cheesy, aren’t you? Nobody straight up tells a girl they’re pretty for no real reason.”

“Actually,” Shifting his beer bottle onto the bar, he holds out his hand to her. “My name is not cheesy, it’s -”

“Y/N! There you are!”

The call of her name makes her jump slightly, before she feels the familiar warmth of a hand on her back. The same hand worms its way to her hip, fingers slipping into that soft fold just above her pants, the warmth of his next words being felt just above her ear.  “Where the hell’ve ya been? Was lookin’ all over the place for ya, Bo and Shoyo were worried ya left without us!”

“Been right here, idiot. We lost our original seats so I’d figure you’d come to the bar at some point and I could’ve waved you down.” She shifts slightly, turning her shoulder back towards the cute stranger with an apologetic look in her eye, to which he smiles and opens his mouth to respond until Atsumu cuts him off again, his hand gripping the back of her neck to make her give him her total attention.

“Right well I’m starving - let's get outta here. Kinda craving your infamous drunk noodles, or maybe a McDonald’s on the way home, yeah?”

Y/N nods slightly, turning back towards the stranger to see that he’s already slinking back into the crowd. Once she fully loses him, she shoves her elbow into the blonde’s side, telling him to “shut it” when he throws out a huff of pain.

“Thank you, ‘Tsumu… could’ve had a different ride home but nooooo.. Needed to come in here with all your glory talking about you being starving despite the fact that you can afford a personal chef.” She huffs out and slides off her stool, but he’s not listening. Instead he’s holding her by the shoulders and pushing her through the crowd, excusing the two of them as she continues to rant and rave at him. Once outside, the pair are joined with the rest of the party, who have called a few separate ubers home. “And to top it off, I know you’re not even listening right now - you never listen to me, Miya. I don’t know how your teammates put up with you… how do you put up with this shit, hmm?”

The group of teammates laugh softly and shake their heads, giving answers that “they get paid” to put up with him, and that Miya Atsumu is actually “a decent friend,” a fact that she knows is true but chooses to ignore when convenient for her. Atsumu just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes, pulling her into the direction of their uber for their journey back to his place. She greets the driver and settles into her seat, as Atsumu calls out behind him something or other to someone. The slam of the door and clicking of seatbelts is what fills the silence in the car, music softly playing from the rear speakers, as Atsumu leans his head back against the headrest.

“So I take it yer coming to stay with me for tonight?”

“Hmm.. don’t have much of a choice now, do I?” She teases to which Atsumu slightly pouts, reaching to knuckle at his eyes that suddenly feel a little too heavy. “You owe me the biggest breakfast fathomable tomorrow.”

“Why’s it that I owe you when I paid for your dinner before going out, paid for your drinks tonight, and am letting you sleep in my bed - which is infinitely better than your cheap ass - hey!” He begins his ranting, which would be cut off by a sturdy flick to the forehead and a slight “hush” before he feels her head rest up on his shoulder.

Y/N and Atsumu had been friends for a little while, when she chased him down the middle of the road, claiming to the public that he was a thief, just because he’d grabbed the wrong umbrella on the way out of the restaurant they were both eating in. He’d tried to apologize, but she traded umbrellas and walked back towards the direction of the restaurant. He had chalked it up to nothing really, just a slight mistake and minor inconvenience for the girl. At least until a certain teammate’s birthday dinner, where said stranger was- only this time sitting and chatting with Sakusa Kiyoomi as if they’d been best friends for forever (which in all fairness, Y/N and Kiyoomi had only been friends since college, where they were forced into a friendship by their roommates, who were hooking up with each other and forced the two on double dates). This second meeting was a sign to Atsumu, a sign that for whatever reason this girl was supposed to be in his life, in some capacity or another - but he did royally fuck it up a second time by trying to flirt with Y/N, who laughed and asked if his opening line was really the best he’d had, before hitting him with an opening line that still makes him flush when he thinks about it today.

The ride to Atsumu’s home isn’t long, but it's long enough for the tiredness to seep into Y/N’s bones, who barely misses the quiet way that Atsumu’s fingers have taken home at the base of her neck, massaging gently at the tenseness he feels under the pads of his fingers.

“Someone’s tired… why didn’t you stay home?” He asks as they turn onto his street, letting his fingers fall away from her as he begins to check that they have everything they need. ”’t’s a good thing yer sleeping over at mine... and no couch for you. Your neck is all kinds of tense. It's a miracle you haven’t complained ‘bout it once tonight.”

“Shh.. you’re so loud for what?” She mumbles while trying to stifle a yawn. “So if I’m not supposed to sleep on the couch then where am I supposed to sleep then, boy genius? The floor?”

“No,” Atsumu answers seriously, brow slightly wrinkled as he reaches for his keys in his pocket. “You’ll sleep with me. In my bed. ‘t’s a cooling mattress so you won’t haffta complain that yer too hot.”

“Miya, last time I slept in a bed with you, you nearly suffocated me. Dunno if I really wanna have to deal with trying to roll you onto your back again.”

“Wait a minute! To be fair, my bed was smaller then so there was less room for the both of us.” He begins, opening the door and shutting it before turning the two of them towards the entrance to his apartment building. “Second of all, it was my first time sharing a bed with someone other than ‘Samu so ya shouldn’t blame me for not having proper sleep manners.”

The first steps into Atsumu’s home consists of the pair kicking off their shoes, debating lightly on who was gonna take over the shower first. Y/N slides her feet into the slippers that are specifically her slippers in his home and slinks off towards the kitchen, as Atsumu peels off his shirt and heads towards the shower. It feels comfortable, almost like a routine, as Y/N gathers eggs and two noodle packets to make them a small meal before bed. Moments later, Atsumu is coming out of the shower, towelling off his hair before settling onto the sofa, clicking on the T.V. as Y/N comes in with the two bowls of noodles. A silent agreement is met when they finish that Atsumu would wash the dishes as Y/N showered, taking a shirt from his drawers to sleep in

She hands him a bottle of aspirin, mumbling around the toothbrush to “take two or so help me.” Moments later she joins him in bed, slipping on a pair of socks that are two sizes too big for her before settling under the plush fabric of his comforter. He shifts over closer to her after tossing his phone on the nightstand, seeking out her form in the now dim room for a small cuddle before dozing off. She willingly accepts him too, sliding her body just under his and buries her face in his skin, still warm from the too-hot shower he is prone to taking in the name of muscle relaxation. He hums slightly as their feet tangle together, silently appreciating the way Y/N so freely indulges his need to touch someone after being touch-starved for so long.

Though Y/N isn’t much like him in that sense - doesn’t have this inherent need to cling to someone before bed, or just hold hands at a store, or hands on the shoulder in a crowded room. Sometimes she will, like now with her nose buried in his neck and her hand rubbing up and down the length of his sturdy back. Normally they won’t do this, both just a little too headstrong to dig into the tightening in their chests when the hug for a moment longer than usual; but tonight Y/N is silently congratulating him on winning the game that has had him stressed for weeks. She feels his lips press softly to the top of her head, a mumble of “good night” leaving his lips as she feels his breaths even out as the moments pass.

This is where Y/N wishes she had the power to pull away - blames moments like this on giving her the slightest bit of hope that they could be more than friends.

It's not that she hadn’t thought about it - frankly she’d spent too much time thinking about it. She could do this… with him.. But every thought is put to bed when she thinks back on this one conversation months ago. Granted she didn’t have the full context of the conversation but it's enough to make her heart squeeze when she sees Atsumu flirt with someone, or shake off his hand when she’s had a particularly sensitive day.

It was just another evening where hanging out after him and the rest of the team being away for a week. They’d ordered in food and drinks had been flowing nicely as the comfortable pair had caught up - it was honestly too homey of a setting in hindsight. His phone rang, the white text of “‘Samu” flashed and Y/N took that as a cue to finally get to the restroom.

“Mhm.. made it back early today - no Y/N picked me up.” He’d been mumbling around a handful of chips, the other side of the conversation mute to Y/N’s eavesdropping.. “Oh shut up, she doesn’t mind and it's not as if we’re dating anyway. It’s.. casual and it works for us.”

And she should’ve stepped into her place next to him, cuddled up into her chest and played the role of the blissfully ignorant idiot. But no, she stayed tucked behind the restroom door, blood pumping and heart beating too loud in her ears. It would seem as though Y/N was a glutton for punishment, a minor thing when thinking about putting herself through a moment of pain for a lifetime of pleasure - but the pain that came with Miya Atsumu’s next words would set her off kilter for a while.

“Besides, she’s not really my type. It’d never work out anyway.”

She had no choice really other than to shut the door. Take some extra time in the restroom than necessary - after all she’d just hear the potential love of her life admit to his twin brother that she wasn’t his type. All she could do really was stare at herself in the stupidly bright mirror in his stupid guest bathroom of his stupidly expensive apartment.  God this is so stupid, she thinks to herself while running cold water to press against her cheeks that she feels are heated up. Before she can really tear her own heart to bits though, she hears a quick rapt on the door.

“Y/N ya’right in there? Warned y’bout putting too much hot sauce on your food.”

But that’d been two years ago. It was a little rough after that; Y/N had thrown herself into finding a life post-grad which was a great distraction from the rumors going around that Atsumu had been spotted with some model or actress or something. Besides, Y/N wasn’t really the type to harp on failed romantic interests - all she’d need to do is download whatever relevant dating app for some validation and she’d be able to move on. However nights like tonight, when he looked too good and the little moment was a little too right - she’d still hope. Make a wish to whatever angle number or shooting star or deity above that she’d get tossed a chance to be in love with the stupid setter, because she had already fallen.

“Mm y’right?” She heard him, how could she not when he’s practically suffocating her. She chooses not to answer though, humming affirmatively - to which he huffs and shifts slightly, settling back into unconsciousness.

Maybe she’d blame the train of thoughts for tonight on the fact that she’d been drinking. However, come morning, the seed would bloom a little brighter in her chest when she wakes up to realize that her face is pressed into his side, arms circling his slim waist and one sock lost among their tangled legs.

---

God she hated him. Miya Atsumu was too much of a lot of things - too much of a sore winner, too much of an idiot, too much of a talker, and most of all, too much of a liar.

For the second time in the span of a month, Atsumu had convinced her to come out, despite her desperately wanting to curl up in bed and binge eat away the stress of the week. Only this time it was a charity event, so she would definitely be the bad guy if she said no. It was an event where him and the rest of his team had been roped into a charity dinner - which (gratefully) meant that Sakusa would be around, and they could fuck off to a corner someplace to talk shit about what all the rich wives are wearing and how bad it looks when their husbands are flirting with the wait staff. But Atsumu had promised that they’d leave before the entree was served - swore the entire drive over that “we’ll get you back home in time, grandma” and that he’d even cook for her this time.

But the entree had been whisked off about forty minutes ago, her wine glass had been refilled twice, and she was bored of watching Sakusa look at his watch, waiting for an appropriate time to leave. Atsumu was a few tables away, chatting up some couple, something about wanting to get their information for Osamu’s business. He would laugh a little too loudly at their jokes, gaining attention of those at surrounding tables - which was only mildly irritating as he had now gathered a crowd of people around him, spewing off some story about him getting lost in Russia the first time they played overseas.

She huffs and stands up, chair scraping slightly, gaining the attention of the rest of the  table. All she does is hold up her wine glass in a feeble attempt at an answer of where she’d be waiting at the bar. If I have to be here, the least I could do is drink for free. The bar is empty, surprisingly no one wants to mope around this very nice dinner.

“What can I get you?”

“Mmm.. whiskey highball, please.” She answers to the unnecessarily cute bartender, but the raise of his eyebrows do not go unnoticed.  And fortunately (or unfortunately) she’s got the time to press him. “Surprised?”

“Only a little bit. Noticed you were drinking wine most of the night so the whiskey is a hard switch.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” She muses, smiling as he places the drink in front of her. He smiles and leans forward on the bar slightly, shaking his head and replying.

“It’s almost as if… I’m being paid to make sure people have their drinks.”

“Oh, so it's not because I’m cute?”

“Now I didn’t say that did I? But you know you’re gorgeous; your boyfriend over there must tell you all the time.” He muses, a smirk playing at his lips as he nods behind her. She all but chokes on her drink when she turns around and sees that the direction he nodded in was directly in Atsumu’s vicinity before shaking her head violently. Atsumu was not going to ruin this for her. “Oh so not your boyfriend?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ as she slips the straw past her lips again, eyes taking in his leaning form. He was cute. His hair was on the silver side of blond, tips of his hair black. He was tall and lean, a piercing hanging from his left ear.

“That’s a shame.” And she gives him her name with a flutter of her lashes and a sweet smile. He returns it, preparing her next drink without her even having to ask. And so they talk, first about how the next person who approaches the bar should be cut off, to how pretentious the whole event was. Two drinks in, Y/N finds herself being invited to a show.

“This whole bartending thing is just a way for me to get some extra cash… I’ve got a gig in an hour. I figured if we leave together now, I can get you home to change outta this and into something a little more… concert fitting?”

“O-Oh.. yeah. I just need to go let my friend know…” She trails off, sliding off her barstool before turning to gracefully power walking to her initial seat next to Sakusa. She huffs and she plots herself down in the char next to him, to which he gives her a look of what the fuck. “I don’t have time to catch you up, but the insanely hot bartender is taking me home. As much as I’d love to get out of here with you, I desperately need to get lai-”

“Going somewhere?” Fuck fuck fuck.

“Didn’t you hear her? The hot bartender is taking her home and she needs -”

“Aishhhh shut up.” She turns to look at her curly haired friend, only to see that he’s got this annoying little smile on his face. She deeply exhales and turns back to Atsumu, who looks less than amused about what his friend said. “Listen, you promised me we’d leave two hours ago. Well you lied so nooow I made plans, so if you would kindly move outta my way.”

“No.” She whips her head up at the blonde. No? What the absolute fuck was he going on about telling her no, despite her not asking for his permission. “You’ve been drinking and you don’t even know the guy - how can you trust that he won’t memorize your address then come rob you or something? I promised to take you home, and since you’re ready now we can leave now.”

“Listen Miya, I appreciate the concern but really I’m a big girl. I can handle a night out by myself with a guy - besides I’m not even that drunk. Now, give me my house keys and move out of my way.”

Suddenly, it's like those cheesy western movies where two cowboys are staring each other down, neither willing to be put down by the other. Except it's this 6’2” pro-athlete staring quite literally down at Y/N, who hits the gym only on a blue moon and spends too much time sitting at a desk. Sakusa has to laugh at the two stubborn idiots in front of him; he knows that Atsumu is going to be able to win this little game that they're playing, but silently applauds Y/N for attempting to stick it to him. Moments pass before Atsumu finally sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit and pulling out her keys - but he doesn’t give them to her.

“What’s his name? If you can tell me his name I’ll give you your keys and let you go.”

“Let me go? Okay, Dad.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, small clutch dangling from her wrist. “I know his name, Atsumu. I may have had a drink or two but I’m not an idiot to be going off with someone who’s name I don’t even know... it’s… uhm.” And she’s done. She hadn’t even bothered to ask his name, doesn’t even remember whether she gave him hers, nor was she smart enough to notice whether he’d been wearing a name tag.  Mentally she’s cursing herself, chancing a glance behind Atsumu’s shoulder to see the hot bartender chatting it up with another girl. Before she can think too much into it, Atsumu sighs deeply, grabbing his suit jacket off the chair next to her and slipping it on his shoulders, a soft “let’s go” leaving his lips as he nods his good-bye to the rest of the table. Y/N chews at the inside of her cheek before grabbing his arm.

“Give me my keys. I’m not going home with you. I want to be alone.”

---

Four days passed - four days of Atsumu borderline harassing Y/N with apologies. Promising to make it up to her. Which is how she finds herself walking into their favorite local sushi restaurant - it's the only one that has self-serving sushi that arrives on a miniature train, and it's also the only place that they go when apologies are to be exchanged. In the handful of years that they’d be friends, Y/N has needed to apologize to Atsumu thrice - two for blowing him off after overhearing the dreaded words and once for saying that maybe Osamu was the better twin. Atsumu on the other hand, had apologized to Y/N many times - so many times in fact that Y/N is sure that he makes up excuses just so they can come eat at this sushi place.

It’s been a long week for Y/N. The Sunday after the charity event, Y/N wakes up with one of the worst headaches of her life - and its due to the fact that she slept like shit hoping that Atsumu made it home safe since he hadn’t texted her he did. Monday she was handed a stack of documents at work that needed to get done before lunch (which didn’t get done). Tuesday morning was dominated by the fact that some idiot on the train to work had spilt a coffee on her, making her wear the most uncomfortable suit jacket, lest she wear a coffee soaked shirt for most of the day. Today, Wednesday, she’d woken up to a box with a pastry outside her door and a cup of coffee with a sticky note on the lid.

Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Train Sushi? 7pm?

Despite the fact that she was most definitely still thinking about why Atsumu acted the way he did - she still went through the mountain of paperwork on her desk with a little smile, knowing that she’d be getting free sushi and an apology. Maybe if she’s lucky, she can convince him that she needs a crepe on the way home.

As she makes her way into the restaurant that evening, she sees him. His dorito-shaped body is stationed at the bar, a cozy brown coat hugging his back, muscles of his arms being squeezed by the sleeves. She can see that he’s got a drink in front of him and she smiles slightly, stepping up towards the bar but stops momentarily. He’s talking to someone - not just someone, a girl. He’s smiling too. Y/N can’t see the stranger’s face, but judging by the way that she has a hand around his biceps and her head tilted, one can only assume that they know each other. Y/N attempts to step backwards, she wants to let him finish his conversation with the woman but she doesn’t know if she can stomach the idea of watching them flirt; but she misses the step, leading her to bump into the hostess who led her to the bar, creating a bit of a scene.

“Y/N! There you are! C’mere.”

She’s buying time by profusely apologizing to the hostess, who honestly is probably just trying to get away. At this point, Y/N has no choice but to walk towards her friend and this mystery woman. The ten steps towards the pair is enough time for Y/N to mentally list off all the things she could have done in the world to warrant some shitty karma that’s hitting her now. Once face to face with Atsumu, she smiles.

“Sorry - long day at work got me all …” Y/N’s words trail off, the hand that’s not death-gripping her purse waves off with her closing thoughts.

“Don’t mind, Wednesday’s are usually your long days. ‘Sides you’re here now - tha’s what matters.” God he’s so dumb. So handsome and so dumb, and god did she miss him. “It’s a good thing you got here a little late, this is Michimiya Yui. I think you two might’ve -”

“No, I don’t think we’ve met! It’s so nice to meet you - he used to talk about you all the time!” The brunette smiles at Y/N, sticking her hand out, which Y/N takes limply, shaking her hand. She’s pretty, Y/N thinks to herself. Her hair is short and she’s wearing some cute leather thigh high boots, her smile is almost paid-for perfect. She’s got this whole brown smoked out eyeliner working for her, which makes Y/N slightly subconscious about her most likely smudged and uneven eyeliner and less-than appealing work pants. Before Y/N can even think of a response to give, Michimiya has her hand back on Atsumu, a pretty smile settling on her lips. It feels like Y/N is watching a trainwreck happening before her eyes. “I was just telling Atsumu that I was back in town and that we should hang out!”

“And I was just explaining to her that I had plans with yo-”

“You should join us!” Idiot. Why am I such a fucking idiot? Atsumu looks over at Y/N with a wild look in his eyes, Michimiya looks like a child who wound up making out with two candies instead of one. “I had a super long day at work today so I’m really only able to eat dinner, but I know Atsumu can stay up for hours so once I leave you two can hang out.”

“Y/N, I thought that -”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I just need to tell the wait staff to cancel my to-go order, so excuse me.”

And so the two friends watch the woman walk away from them, making her way towards the to-go order area. Y/N bites at the inside of her cheek, intentionally avoiding Atsumu’s eyes that she feels are pinned on her. She digs out her phone from her purse, texting Sakusa an ominous “next time you see me, please poison me 😑.” As Y/N drags her eyes up Atsumu’s front, she feels the same way she did when she would get scolded by her parents. His eyes are staring at her face, no doubt wanting to press her about why she willingly invited a stranger to eat with them at their restaurant. To pacify him, all she does is hold up her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Miya. Like you said, Wednesday’s are my long days so I wouldn’t be able to stay out late with you anyway. Besides…” She starts, fixing a smile onto her face. “I think that she might have a little crush on you!” He says nothing, lips pressed in a hard line and a brow arched up at her. “Don’t look at me like that. And save your apology for next time… we have company.”

The rest of the evening goes exactly like Y/N’s worst nightmare. She is quite literally the third-wheel despite the fact that technically Michimiya was supposed to be the third wheel in this little scenario. Y/N has to watch the pretty brunette flirt relentlessly with Atsumu, who seems blissfully oblivious to the fact that for every compliment Michimiya gives Y/N, she gives herself two more. Sakusa is well informed on the situation, receiving texts every five minutes with another dumb thing that was said in front of Y/N’s appatizers. Rarely does someone ever wish for a natural disaster to hit, but in the last thirty minutes of sitting at this table, Y/N has wished for every biblical curse to wreak havoc in her way.

Despite the fact that Michimiya has hijacked every conversation, Atsumu still tries to ask Y/N about her, including her in the conversation as much as possible. But Y/N stopped trying twenty minutes ago, and is now forcing herself to eat the last few pieces of sushi she ordered - normally she’s a stress eater, but Michimiya has rested her hand on Atsumu’s thigh and Y/N has suddenly never felt more sick in her life. Y/N has never once picked up a tab around Atsumu - “please, ‘ve got more money than I know whatta do wit’it” he’d always tell her when she attempted to take up the ticket - but when they finally wave down someone and ask for the check, Y/N drops some cash on the table and collects her things.

“It’s been so nice to meet you, but I think I should really get going. I’ve gotta get to work early tomorrow - I’ll see you this weekend right, Miya?”

“Wait up, I’ll take you home… Yui it’s been really -”

“No no, really it's okay! You stay! I’ll just text you when I get home. Be safe. And again it was so nice to meet you - take care of Atsumu for me.”

“Oh I will!”

Y/N is not a runner but she’s never sprinted away from a situation so fast in her life. The image of Michimiya’s sly little smile at Y/N’s request to take care of her friend makes her feel gross, tears stinging at the back of her eyes and she settles on the train. Y/N can name a handful of times when she’d seen Atsumu around women - but never once had she’d met someone he was romantically involved with and it hurts. The gentle sway of the train does nothing to settle the spinning of her head with images of what Atsumu actually looks for - his actual type. She feels like an idiot; she should have just told Atsumu that they could do a raincheck, or if she was feeling bold, she could’ve told Michimiya to fuck off. The latter seems possible in the version of herself in Y/N’s head, but the reality was that she was too nice. Always wanted to make the people she cares about happy, and Atsumu looked... happy? Besides, Y/N thinks to herself as she exits the train and makes the trek towards her apartment building, if Michimiya Yui was going to be involved with Atsumu, the more exposure she had to her, the better off Y/N would be in accepting that Atsumu would never ever be with Y/N like that.

Once settled in her apartment, she sends off a quick “home. thanks for tonight!” to Atsumu before making her way to the bathroom. A nice warm soak would surely make her feel better, make her forget about what an idiot she is and maybe, just maybe, make her body relax all the love she holds in her heart for the blond away. Her phone pings, twice, but she ignores it. Ten minutes into her pity soak she hears a bang on her door, which only makes her groan and dunk her head under the water. The banging stops, making Y/N think it was just her neighbor or something asking for a favor. What she doesn’t expect is for her to exit the bath twenty minutes later to see Sakusa Kiyoomi sittin on her couch.

“Hello, glad to see you exploiting your spare key access.”

“Miya called me and said you looked like shit earlier. And judging by your texts throughout the evening, I figured you were on the brink of a breakdown.”

And so she was. She spent the rest of the evening talking Kiyoomi through the night, slipping in all the questions she’s had from the past two times that Atsumu had cockblocked her. And bless Kiyoomi for sitting through her tears, sitting cross-legged and drinking tea that he had initially made for her but refused to let her drink once he realized she had already brushed her teeth. It felt almost like she was finally thinking about what her friendship with Miya Atsumu was, what it could and couldn’t be. Every moment painted so clearly about how Y/N felt for her blond friend, but the only thing missing was how said friend felt about her. At 11:30 pm, two hours after Kiyoomi initially arrived at Y/N’s apartment, she pushed Kiyoomi out the door, eyes puffy but heart and head a little clearer than how they were when he arrived.

Despite promising Kiyoomi that she would not think about Atsumu, as Y/N settles into bed, her thoughts can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be with him. She mulls it over as she slides off her socks, deciding that it’d be nice - probably exactly how they are now, plus a title and a little less swatting his hands away when he reaches for her in public. Y/N can’t help it as she thinks about whether they would kiss a lot - they’ve kissed before, neither strangers to cheek kisses as greetings or kisses at the top of their heads when the other is crying into their chest (there was even that very drunk kiss they shared on New Years Eve when their friendship was fresh that both still have warm cheeks about when they think about). Just as she’s about to go down the path of whether Atsumu would spend more nights with her at her cardboard box of an apartment or her at his, Y/N cuts herself off - after all she wasn’t his type. Tonight proved that more than anything, she thinks.

It’s not like Atsumu has never brought anyone around Y/N - there’d been a few that she’d met, though they were mostly over a facetime call and it was mostly just her waving at them before Atsumu ducked away to have a private conversation. It's not like tonight was the first night Y/N had to swallow the bile in her mouth at seeing someone make heart eyes at Atsumu - it's just this time felt different; almost like Y/N was finally having the truth thrusted into her face. But Y/N isn’t mad or hateful of Michimiya, nor Atsumu for that matter - she’d never been the type to hate a girl for having feelings for the person she has feelings for. It’s annoying, sure, but Y/N doesn’t see the point in hating someone for how they feel - however, Y/N does not make the effort to become friends with these girls, or maintain the close friendship with Atsumu for that matter. Is it petty to put a strain on a friendship out of fear of losing said friendship? Absolutely! But Y/N knows she won’t be able to stomach another night like tonight - another night of seeing Atsumu slip so easily from her fingers into the arms of another. And as observant as Atsumu is, he never fully recognizes that Y/N is avoiding him, at least that what she hopes since more often than he’s able to worm himself back into her life.

---

Following the failed apology dinner, Y/N tried her hardest to give herself a few days without the blonde- made easy by the fact that the weekend after the failed apology dinner he’d be out of town for another tournament. It’s not like she was totally avoiding him, she’d responded to his texts and even answered two of his six facetime calls while he was away, she just wanted a little bit of time to wallow in self pity in her apartment, crying over her comfort movies and eating too many bags of hot chips. But once he was back in the same timezone as her, Atsumu made it impossible for Y/N to fully wallow.

It started when he texted her about their favorite crepe place temporarily closing for some reason or other - he’d tried to convince her to ditch work early that day to come, but Y/N declined with a simple text of “i like my job tyvm.” So what did he do? Pick her up in his flashy sports car that day after work (two hours later than usual since she’d figured he’d do something ridiculous like this) and drove her there, where he didn’t bat an eyelash as she ordered double than what she normally would have (a silent fuck you from Y/N but it didn’t matter since she wasn’t actualy hurting his wallet). She’d been able to tide him off for a few days, as she escaped to her hometown for a weekend - but that did little to stop the mirage of texts he’d sent her, describing in great detail this cool hybrid bookstore-game cafe that he found and thinks she’d like. Instead of responding how she actually wanted, she’d just replied with a half-assed “ahh exciting- sounds cute!” (She mentally grants herself ten nice points for erasing her initially text, telling him to take his “fucking girlfriend”). This must have really struck a nerve with him when the following weekend, he’d dragged her out of bed on Sunday morning to take her to said bookstore-game cafe, even spoiling her by secretly buying a book she’d picked up but put back.

Y/N can’t tell if Atsumu is intentionally ignoring the hints she doesn’t want to see him or if he’s really just oblivious. She also can’t tell if the patter of her heart when he drags her out of bed despite her not wanting to see him is a good thing or not. It’s been weeks since she’d third-wheeled with Atsumu and Michimiya, surely Y/N should have been able to take a little bit of pride in the fact that he was literally chasing her down to spend time with her rather than Michimiya - but before she can even swallow that pill Atsumu shows up at her apartment with the trace of a bruise hiding just below his shirt collar. The small mark on his neck makes Y/N convince herself that this would be the time that she needs a full on Atsumu ban.

Said ban never actually happens, though.

Just as proof that this ban doesn’t happen, today Atsumu has decided that Y/N needs to come shopping with him. For the entire day. Cue the montage of Atsumu banging on Y/N’s door at nine in the morning, breakfast pastries and coffee in hand as Y/N answers in all her morning glory, sleep caked up in the outer corner of her eyes and pajamas haphazardly fixed. Words are exchanged as Atsumu pushes her towards the shower, promising to make up her bed and even take out the trash for her (a chore she put off last night because she’d seen too many people smoking by the dumpsters which scared her enough to make her drag up the two bags of back up the five flights of stairs). As Y/N settles at her desk to work on making herself “the hottest person at the market,” Atsumu settles on her bed, talking a mile a minute about all the things he wanted to get at the market and the possible places they could go for lunch in the area. All she can do is hum, wondering silently why he’d chosen to take the trip with her and not his girlfriend - but she wouldn’t complain.

The market was...fulfilling enough. Surprisingly, Y/N was walking towards the food trucks with more bags in her hands than Atsumu, who followed behind her with one print from a vendor that Y/N convinced him would actually look good in his home office. The pair decided that Y/N was better suited to look for a place where they could park themselves to eat, while Atsumu went off to get them lunch. Before Y/N could make a break for the tables though, Atsumu grabbed her face, thumb swiping at her cheek firmly - it took Y/N every ounce of restraint to not whimper at the unprompted affection.

“Wha-”

“Had some of that jam sample from earlier on your face, dummy.”

“Tsk… why didn’t you see it earlier.”

He just smiled softly, letting the warmth of his hand fall from her face before patting her back towards her initial direction. Frankly, she’d been thrown off her rhythm; they’d touched each other before for fucks sake. So why was this one moment of closeness enough to make her chest feel tight? As she weaved through the tables, she can’t help but hold her hand to where his was, almost as if to preserve the warmth that was now gone. She hummed gleefully as she found a table, making her way towards it and setting up camp. As she settles into her chair, fingers deftly texting to Atsumu where she’s stationed, she sees a shadow come across the table.

“Hey, are you gonna use all these chairs?” He’s cute, almost terribly cute - he’s got this pinkish-blonde hair going on top, an almost shy glint in his gray-ish colored eyes, and an almost self-assured smile pulling at his lips. He was also tall, much taller since Y/N was sitting, but she almost doesn’t mind considering the fact that she is most definitely gawking at him. She shakes her head momentarily, both as an answer to his question and a way to clear her head momentarily.

“Thanks! My friend over there is too precious to sit on the curb, apparently.” He smiles at her, eyes squinting and she’s momentarily breathless at just how cute he is when he smiles. His arms move to grab one of the chairs and that's when she decides to speak up, not wanting to quite end the conversation yet.

“Ahh no worries! I know all about having that too precious friend! I only need one other chair so you can take two of these.”

“Oh cool thanks… and hey this might be a little weird but - fuck are you from Miyagi? You look kinda like this one girl from high school but - “

“I am! I went to Aoba Johsai and -”

He clicks his tongue and seems to smile even brighter now. “That’s right - you’re Y/N right? I think you were a year younger than us right, but you always hung out with that one girl in my year who used to smoke behind the boy’s gym…” Y/N nods, a grimace on her face and the back of her neck feeling a little warm with embarrassment. How could she possibly explain that said girl was actually Y/N’s cousin and that she didn’t actually smoke, she’d just smell like it after working at their family restaurant. “Well I’m Makki, by the way. If you remember Matsukawa and Iwaizumi they're over there - they were at Seijoh too.” She nods, leaning slightly to see the two men behind him, both wearing smiles that were just a little too cheeky.

“Yeah yeah, I remember… you also had a particular whiny one with you too, right?” He laughs at that, responding that said whiny one was actually abroad. The two make a little conversation, her giving him some suggestions on places to visit since one of his trio is actually visiting for the weekend. Y/N thinks this is nice - feels like the main character in a movie with the amount of men that have approached her in the past couple weeks. Before she can get too cocky in her ability to pull though, Atsumu walks up to the table, hands full with a tray that seems to be piled with too many little plates.

“There y’are… couldn’t see you from across the way… everything okay?” Atsumu questions, standing to his full height as if sizing up Makki, who seems completely unphased by Atsumu.

“Yeah, was just asking your girlfriend if I could steal these two chairs away before I realized that we knew each other.” The strawberry blonde is definitely unphased by Atsumu, who’s shoulders visibly relax at Makki’s suggestion that the two friends were together. “Well it was nice seeing you, Y/N! Thanks again for the chairs, you all enjoy your meal.”

As Makki walks away, Atsumu settles into his own chair with a smug little smile playing at his lips. Y/N, on the other hand, is chewing at the inside of her cheek as food is placed in front of her. Her blond friend, the observant little shit, notices that she doesn’t immediately tuck into the lunch laid in front of her and nudges her foot with his, muttering a quick “what's wrong.”

“You were blessed with possibly the worst timing in the world, y’know that?”

“What d’ya mean?” He muses, taking in her huffily pulling the lid off her food and stuffing her face with the rice bowl in front of her.. She chews, combing the food on her plate with the plastic fork as a way to stop herself from unleashing all her frustrations.

“You always but in whenever I start getting hit on! Or you stop every chance I have at possibly getting to know someone; you come in here full force and its really not fair. I don’t do it to you, and it's just not fair.” Y/N hates that she probably sounds like a whining child, but she really can’t help it anymore. It’s really not fair that Atsumu flaunts his conquests on the cover of every magazine, but god forbid Y/N talk to a guy. “Its been a while since I’ve had sex, Atsumu, and it’s getting to a point where I’d jump just about anyone’s bones. I - I just think that as my best friend you should be providing me some support, not cockblocking me at every fucking opportunity you get.”

It takes every fiber in his body to not laugh at how ridiculous Y/N is being right now. He licks at his lip, catching whatever food crumbs he could before clearing his throat. “‘M sorry what? You actually wanna hook up with those guys? They seem like the type to just fuck ya n’ then not text you back.”

“And if that’s what I want then so what!? Did you miss the part where I said I’m desperate here?”

“Then..” He takes a swig at his water bottle in front of him, leaning back slightly in his seat and sliding his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head. “If you need it that badly then you can just do it with me. You said anyone so I can -”

She laughs, one that sounds on the brink of delusion. “You’re fucking ridiculous. Yeah okay… Dunno if you remember but you’ve got a girlfriend, Miya.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Y/N. We’re… not that serious with each other and we’re also open. She knows that..'' He looks smug, and Y/N wants to smack the absolute life out of him. “And I’m being serious, darlin.. I’d rather get you off than see you get your hopes up over some random.”

Y/N squeezes the poor utensil in her hand, choosing to chomp down one of the buns on the table instead of reminding Atsumu that she wasn’t exactly his type. But she lets it go, just squinting at him and shaking her head, mumbling how ridiculous he is before swiping some of his veggies off his plate. How else is she supposed to react to her best friend blatantly telling her that he’d fuck her if she’d ask - she tries to ignore the way that their knees resting on each other under the table makes her heart soar. Before she can form a sentence, something to steer the direction away from her sex life (or lack thereof), Atsumu mumbles around a forkful of food that she’d better hurry since he wants to do another lap of the market before it closes.

---

Atsumu’s offer and that entire conversation is brought up again a few days later; the pair are in Y/N’s apartment this time. She’d asked him and his brother to come over to install some shelves for her, but apparently Osamu was busy. With the shelves installed, Y/N put on a movie to serve as Atsumu’s entertainment whilst she organized her trinkets. She wasn’t really paying attention to the movie, too concerned with trying to see if the shelves were actually level or not when she heard Atsumu laugh behind her, muting the T.V. with a quizzical brow raised.

“Huh? If you don’t like the movie then you can change it… ‘m not payin atten-”

“Oh yeah not paying attention right?” She gives him a hard look as if proving to him that she can’t honestly give him the plot of the movie. “So you’re telling me that its just a coincidence that this movie is about two friends who make a pact to fuck each other? That it's a coincidence that the literal name of the movie is ‘Friends with Benefits”

She rolls her eyes and turns to face him fully, seeing that he’s now sat up on her couch with his elbows resting on his knees. A beat passes before he puts his hands up, almost as if in surrender, before he pushes himself off the couch and towards the kitchen. She watches him as he pulls out a bottle of wine, nodding to the couch as if asking her to take a break. She relents, folding her legs under herself and pulling at a string on the worn sofa, thinking she’d probably try to replace this piece before she renewed her lease. He thrusts the glass to her, settling into the sofa but he makes no move to unmute the T.V., instead inciting some silent battle while they each sip from their respective glasses.

“Y’know you’ve been snappy lately… my offer from the other day still stands, hope y’know tha’.” She scoffs, choosing to take another swig at her wine, which does little to cool the warmth she feels in her throat. He’s not technically wrong - the conversation the other day had made a fog of tension hang over her, making a long lost desire for the blond resurface in her lower abdomen at full force. She’d spent way too much time the other night on Amazon, debating on whether it would be a good idea to get rechargeable batteries for her toy, spent too long watching his mouth move when he’d facetimed her the other night. It's not that Y/N hadn’t hooked up with anyone since knowing Atsumu, it's just that maybe she’d spent a little too much time enjoying how Atsumu met her emotional needs that she had neglected her physical needs.

“What offer?” She’ll be damned to let him in on the fact that she’d done nothing but think about his stupid offer. Refuses to let him know that she wants, no needs, to say yes. So she plays dumb, finger dancing along the lip of her cup, foot swinging anxiously against the floor.

He hums, reaching to put his glass on her beat up coffee table. He leans his elbow on the back of the couch, placing his chin in his hand, giving Y/N his undivided attention. “‘Samu was talking about how his girlfriend has been on his ass lately about every little thing and so I asked him if they’re doin’ okay, y’know physically… didn’t answer me but I figured he’d solved it if he hasn’t mentioned it since. I heard someone say that if yer girl’s acting fussy then y’need to think about if you’ve been fuckin’ her right and well…” Y/N swallows the lump in her throat, stopping the shiver that threatens to rack her body at the idea of Atsumu thinking she’s his girl. “I was bein’ serious the other day. I know ya were mad so it wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it seemed like the only good thing to say. Besides, ‘m not all that bad in bed, can ring up a few people if y’need a review.”

Y/N doesn’t respond with anything other than a forced huff of laughter, can't respond really. It feels too warm, she’s hoping that maybe this is some fever dream instead of reality. She just plays with her cup absentmindedly, not quite able to look the blond in the eyes despite the fact that his eyes are studying her face as if she holds all the answer to the questions the universe has. Him being bad in bed is the least of her worries, what if she’s bad? God she wants to say yes, maybe she’ll say yes - maybe it’d be good for her to finally get some di-

“Forget it, ‘m sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t have to, sweetheart. I just -”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Oh now she speaks. He looks at her, a wild look fixed on his face, almost as if he doesn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “It's just..” She throws her head back, face covered momentarily by some plant leaves. God she didn’t want to actually voice her thoughts but now she has no choice.

“It’s just what? If yer worried about the fuckin part, I can just get you off other ways. Get paid to be good with my hands -”

“Just shut up for once please, you’re ruining it.” He makes a show of zipping his lips, smiling as Y/N squares herself to him, stretching her neck as if she’s preparing for a fight, rather than speaking a coherent sentence.. “It's just that I don’t… dont wanna force you into thinking you have to ‘cos I’m being bitchy to you.. Like it’s not your problem to fix y’know and I just. Besides, don't wanna be the only one enjoying it, want you to like it too and … for fucks sake this is ridiculous. I just dunno I-”

Atsumu’s hand reaches out towards her, fingers stroking her knee in a comforting manner but it’s all but comforting to Y/N, who’s entire leg feels on fire at this small moment of skinship. “Shh, shh, no baby yer not forcing me to do anything. Don’t think that way - I-I wanna do it! I wan’ya to be happy and if this makes you happy then… And i mean if y’need more of a reason then think of it as a way for me to say sorry for cockblockin’ ya all the time.”

Y/N doesn’t say yes, but she also doesn’t outright decline. She can’t think of anything other than how, if she nodded her head, he’d give her everything she’d been wanting. Atsumu and Y/N stare at each other, moments pass and she’s sure that he’s going to take her stillness and silence as a no - but he just moves to grab her wine glass, moving it from her grasp to the table, shifting closer to her in the process. She holds her breath and he brings one of his hands towards her face, palming the side of her jaw in his warm hand, thumb rubbing at the plush skin of her lips. “Can I kiss ya? Maybe tha’s all ya need is a good kiss, yeah?” She nods, his hand moving to pluck at her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Got really nice lips, don’t you? ���S so soft and wet, catch myself wanting to touch ‘em allot’' She inhales softly as he leans in, his hand sliding to the side of her neck and he litters soft kisses against her jaw. She whines softly when his mouth nears hers. “Shh, gonna kiss you in a minit.”

All Y/N can do is breath, mouth parted slightly as Atsumu drags his mouth over her face. His hand is so warm and big on her skin; he’s so close in her face that all she can do is inhale and smell him, making her dizzy with building warmth in her belly. They catch each other’s gaze, neither daring to blink away, before he tilts his head, pressing his mouth against hers softly at first. He doesn’t move to kiss her, just holds his lips over hers for a moment, as if giving her time to back away if she wants to; but when she doesn’t, he hums and pulls her head towards his more, lips moving in tandem. His hand slides from her cheek, worming its way towards the nape of her neck as he pulls her to him - he wastes no time in deepening the kiss, licking into her mouth with  fervor. And she lets him, moving into his lap as she relishes in the feeling of his tongue lazily swirling with her own; the new found position allows him to drag his hand down her back soothingly, her own hands sliding around his neck and up into his hair.

She parts with a soft gasp, whether it be for air or out of surprise she can’t tell. He whines momentarily, before nosing his way down towards her neck, pressing butterfly-light kisses at the flesh. She’s wiggling in his arms, and he laughs, the air ticking the soft bend of her collarbone. “Fuck, you’ve been holdin out on me. Tha’ was good right? A good kiss for ya?” All Y/N can do is nod, sliding her hand towards his face in hopes of bringing his lips back to hers. She can feel the smirk on his mouth when she presses their mouths together again, and maybe after she’d bitch him out about it but right now all she wants is to be suffocated by him.

Moments pass, the air filled with soft pants in between kisses and thickening arousal. Atsumu cards his fingers in her hair gently, mouth still against hers, free hand sneaking around Y/N’s front. She whines softly, to which he shushes her softly. “Shh you’re okay… just wanna feel ya.” He soothes her over by indulging her in soft kisses against her lips,   hand pushing up the front of her ratty t-shirt, snaking his hand past the waistband of her shorts into the confines of her (now too tight) underwear. Y/N shudders when he strokes lightly over her clit, before surpassing it completely and going to where a wet spot had been developing on the fabric. Plucking the damp cotton out of the way and letting the tips of two fingers rub over her weeping hole, “Oh.. this for me?”

A small noise crawls out of her throat, a mix between a moan, a whine, and surprise. “Don’t, ‘tsumu. It’s embarrassing..”

“Shh don’t be embarrassed. Just feels good to know I make ya feel good, baby.” Atsumu pulls his fingers from her, smiling when she whines at the loss of contact. But he’s able to soother her before she can get too fussy; one moment Y/N is on top of him, struggling to not rock against his thigh and relieve some of the pressure building up inside of her, the next Atsumu has her flipped over so her back, her body caged between the back of the sofa and his arms. A hand on either side of her head as he bends in, sweeps his tongue at a strip of salty skin just beneath her jaw. He hastily shoves up the shirt she’s wearing, revealing more of her and letting his hands graze over her breasts lightly at first before kneading them. She feels lightheaded while his mouth works on her throat, biting and sucking a bruise at the base of it that makes her gulp. Parting from the skin with a gentle kiss and a small, whispered comment of, “Taste so good, so soft and sweet. Been holding out on me, hmm?”

For the first time ever, Y/N has Atsumu in her arms and has no need to push him away - no, instead she’s holding onto him as if she’d die if he slipped away from her, her hands gripping his broad shoulders before sliding up into his hair as he makes his way down her body. He’s practically praising her - pressing wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin as he moves downwards, fingers making quick work of tugging her bottoms off, helping her kick out of them quickly and clumsily. She knows that Atsumu is not a patient man, but this is a whole other level of impatience. He’s pushing her thighs open, cold fingers squeezing at the soft flesh of her thighs as he scoots down to be at eye-level with the barest part of her, making sure her calves are hooked over his shoulders. Y/N can’t remember a time when she’s ever been in a more vulnerable position, but instead of shying away like her instincts would have her, she finds herself moving to better accommodate the man between her legs. Her eyes catch his caramel colored ones and her breath catches in her throat; he’s staring at her, enamored by her.

“Such a pretty little thing aren’t ya?” he murmurs, lips forming a gentle kiss on her inner thigh but before she can retort he gives one long, gentle swipe of his tongue directly up the middle of her folds. She gasps, face turned away from him and thighs threatening to close, but he shifts his hand to stop her, holding her in place. “Aht… don’t get shy now, lemme get a taste.”

It’s too much when he dives back in, skilled mouth a vicious match for his insatiable need to please. As he strokes his soft, wet tongue deeper and deeper between her slippery folds that part around him willingly. Y/N’s sure she’s moments away from swearing her undying fealty to whatever higher being put this on her plate for today.  Puckering his lips around her clit after stopping just before sucking on her until it was swollen and even greedier for his attention. Dipping his tongue inside of her hole, humming appreciatively against her and only feeding into the whimpering sounds filtering out of her mouth.

Embarrassingly, Y/N feels that she’s nearing her end - despite the shame of admitting that it's coming too fast, she feels the need to tell him anyway. “Hmph… g’na cum,” she chokes out, hoping that he heard her because all she can hear is the blood rushing in her ears. Every sense is suffocated by Atsumu’s presence, and she’s shameless as she lets every pant slip past her lips, feeding into Atsumu’s ego. “‘m so close, I need it. Need you to – to keep going please, ‘Tsumu”

And he does, gets her to the edge of her high before sliding his mouth away from her. The whine that falls past her lips is deafening, eyes opening and seeing that he’s just nuzzling her thigh, lips making light work at marking the soft flesh. “No, no you said… said you’d help.. Please I’m-” she’s hiccuping, tripping over her words numbly as she tries tugging his head back to where she’s most desperate for him.

He hums at her softly, almost patronizingly, as he places a kiss to the skin closest to his mouth. “Don’t cry pretty girl.. Won’t leave you hanging, ‘ts so warm down ‘ere… might have to stay forever, tha’ okay?” He is disgusting, filthy, so sinfully good. And true to his word, he goes back in without another word, only a small smile and his own hum that vibrates through her lower half. When he takes her clit back between his lips, it’s all she needs. Every tense muscle finally seizing to his maximum strain; it’s like she was a string that’d been stretched too far and finally frayed in the middle, snapping. She can hear her heartbeat thumping like a bass in her ears, can feel the way she’s twitching under Atsumu’s relentless movements, and it drowns out her own noises that she’s making.

Moments later, all that can be heard is her bated breathing, head completely empty and eyes heavy, flickering and fluttering with just how light she feels. Atsumu kisses his way back up to be face-to-face with her, making sure to peck gently at the marks he’d littered her skin with. His face is buried in the base of her throat, their arms tangled around each other lazily - Y/N feels too sleepy to protest the way that he’s pressing all his weight onto her; but isn’t too tired to realize that he’s hard when her hips wiggle to accommodate him between her legs, maybe has been the entire time, which confuses her slightly. Why would he be hard over her? She understands her total arousal over him since she bitched him into submission, but him? If anything, him being hard right now just proves, to Y/N at least, that maybe he would get it up with anything. But what if it is for you, her heart wonders briefly.

“‘Tsumu… are you-?”

“Shh, ‘ts alright. Let's get you to bed.” And he moves to slide off her, moving to guide the two of them to her bed, which was a feat on its own considering Y/N’s legs feel like jelly. All he can do is smile at her, taking in her relaxed face and mused hair. He settles her into bed, sliding up next to her and pulling her onto his chest, lips pressed into the crown of her head.  Before Y/N can even think of a way to say thank you, she feels sleep taking over, choosing instead to just indulge (for once) in the pseudo-domestic situation she’s in tonight.

The following morning, Y/N almost doesn’t want to wake up, isn’t ready to come to terms with whatever happened yesterday. Long gone is the lusty drunkenness from last night, but Atsumu...Atsumu is still fully there, lips pursed and arms shoved under the pillow - Y/N holds back the urge to trace her fingers along the lines of his arm. She russells around, hoping that sleep takes over her again so she can justify waking up wrapped around Atsumu - her attempts are futile though when she feels a firm squeeze at her side, cold fingers making her jump slightly.

“Wha’s wrong?”

She mumbles a barely coherent “nothing,” to which Atsumu just hums, snaking his arm over Y/N’s middle and pulling her towards him, chest to chest with his breath fanning over her face. She swears she could die a happy person now. Wants to have every morning be like this, him in her too small bed, squishing themselves together for warmth, just the sheer proximity is enough, she muses to herself. Apparently, Y/N is thinking just a little too loud this morning for Atsumu’s liking because he sighs softly, asking if she’s sure nothing is wrong.

“Mm ‘m fine. Jus’ tryna get comfortable, go back to sleep.”

“Can’t now, all yer wiggling woke me up” And before she can even retort, he shifts slightly, practically forcing his groin on her thigh, to which she squeaks softly. “Jus go back to sleep… too early for breakfast.”

“Bu- Tsumu.. Lemme..” she starts, shyly. She did have this inherent need to pay him back for what happened, and she can only equate his favor with something equally as...pleasurable?...fulfilling? She can’t find the right word but the most equal compensation for sex has to be more sex, right? The sleep in her bones is fully gone now, her hands sliding down his sides slowly, tentatively. “Please...wanna jus’-”

“Don’t have to, can just go to the rest- sh-shit.” He starts, his own hand reaching to stop hers but his movements stutter when she palms at his crotch, giving his bulge a full on grope. She shushes him softly, lips moving to peck his jaw softly as she snakes her hands past the tight confines of his underwear; and though she can’t see much of what is going on she can feel how thick Atsumu is. His hands have shifted slightly, one arm resting behind her and the other cupping her face, their lips tangled in kisses that feel too sweet and far from platonic.

Moments pass, and it's apparent that Y/N is moving much too slowly for Atsumu, him bucking into her hand and his hips rolling in uncalculated and sloppy movements. He whines softly when she pulls her lips off his, both softly gasping for air, but she shushes him, using the most minimal amount of strength to push him onto his back and settles between his massive thighs. By this point, once fully exposed in front of her, he's so hard that the foreskin is already drawn away from the head, tip slick and wet with precum. She’s gentle, wanting to preserve the quietness that comes with waking up at eight in the morning, as she presses a few open mouth kisses at the patch of hair below his belly button.

And it’s all over from here. Y/N ducked herself down, licking from the dip of his balls to his drippy head in one broad swipe. Y/N shudders softly at the whimper she’s able to pull out of the man above her, thinking that it’s probably the best noise she’d ever elicited from a man. Atsumu runs his fingers through her hair as she slides his head into her mouth, fingers deftly scraping at her scalp as she begins sucking. She sucks him like she wants to – like this was the most perfect way to spend every morning, with her blonde, dumb, stupid best friend stuffing her mouth. Both are still hazy with sleep, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from pulling him in deeper, hollowing her cheeks as she begins bobbing her head and moving her hand in tandem to stroke at what can’t fit in her mouth.

His fingers start to tangle in her hair rather than comb through it, his moans filling the room, punctuated with little encouragements that she hums at around him, like, “Tha’s it, there’s my good girl,” and through shaky laughs, “M'gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” Eventually, Y/N knows that he must be near his peak, but she pauses, eyes locking with his caramel colored ones, as she pulls her mouth away to let his length just rest on her tongue.

“Fuck yer pretty… so good aren’t ya?” He whisper-groans at her, gripping her hair a little harder when she tilts her head to the side, allow him to shallowly fuck himself between her lips, his thumb tracing the bulge his dick made in her cheek. “Need'a pull off if y'don’t wanna taste, baby… gettin so- fuck- so close.” He gives her hair a slight tug, like he might actually pull her off himself, but she doesn’t allow him; she just shifts her mouth, making light work of wrapping her lips around his tip, sucking greedily with and humming in protest around him. And it’s that that sends him over, twitching in her mouth as he sputters off shaky profanities before she feels shot after shot of white ropes hitting her tongue. Y/N can’t help but stare at him above her, relishing in the fact that this morning she gets to see him shake and shudder because of her.

Y/N pops off him gently, drawing back and humming at the lingering salty taste he’s left on her tongue. She graces the skin of his heaving abdomen with soft, fluttering kisses as she tucks him back into his underwear, before she crawls up his body, legs swinging to straddle his narrow hips. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes, neck red and he seems almost bashful underneath her (which makes Y/N’s heart swell with adoration at just how him he is). She wiggles softly, folding her hands on his chest and laying her chin on them, waiting for him to say something to her. She blows a laugh through her nose when he finally looks down at her, eyes glimmering and lips pulled in the shyest smile she thinks she’s ever seen on him.

“You… yer good. Too good… just wow.”

---

Suffice to say lots has happened in the week following the pair quite literally eating their hearts out.

Firstly, Atsumu spent nearly every evening at her apartment that week. He waited every single day outside of her office building - her coworkers have taken to telling her how lucky she is that she has a man waiting for her with this whipped look on her face, but she swears up and down (with warm cheeks) that it's not like that. They eat dinner, alternating between picking up something on the way or cooking together - and by cooking, just picture Atsumu cutting vegetables in uneven chunks while Y/N scolds him for not adding enough water to the rice cooker. Normally this could happen: it's not super rare that they visit each other during the week if it's convenient - what is definitely not in the norm is the fact that Atsumu has buried himself between Y/N’s thighs thrice this week. It starts when Y/N looks too stressed on Tuesday evening, that Atsumu pulls her legs over his lap in an attempt to “massage some of the stress away,” which only leads to him manhandling her onto her back, promising to give her something else to cry about besides work.

Secondly, Osamu thought it would be best to alert Y/N that Atsumu had a very awkward conversation with a woman during lunch on Thursday - it was secretly his way of asking her to ask Atsumu what happened because both Y/N and Osamu were terrible gossips who feed off each other. When Y/N asked though, all Atsumu said was that the whole conversation didn’t matter, that the woman (who Y/N learned was actually Michimiya) wanted more than Atsumu was able to give to her. That their lives weren’t in sync or whatever, that they’d eventually manage to be co-workers at best. To say that Y/N wasn’t elated at the news would be a bold-faced lie.

Y/N feels on cloud nine, feels like she doesn’t even need to have a conversation with Atsumu about what their situation is currently. She gets to reap all the benefits of a relationship now, she’s physically taken care of and emotionally spoiled. Only thing she’s actually missing is the title but what's in a word, right?Atsumu wasn’t a natural flirt, always hid compliments behind a harsh delivery - but lately he’s taken to drowning Y/N in compliments, even the corny ones. Y/N expected a post-nut “god yer pretty,” but what occasionally caught her off was when he would open the door for her (normal) and say that “a pretty gal like you should never hafta touch a handle” (not normal). Subconsciously, Y/N feels like he’s only trying to compliment his way into her pants, but she chooses to ignore the way he coos at “just how gorgeous her eyes are” when he makes eye contact with her during a midnight snack.

On the second Thursday following the start of the Y/N-Astumu situationship, Y/N has no choice really other than to ask Atsumu what’s going on with them. They’re at the grocery store by his place (he’d convinced her to take the following day off work and spend the night with him), everything is more than normal when the pair’s conversation gets interrupted by a literal model-esque person, touching Atsumu’s shoulder. Y/N tries to sneak her hand from his arm, but he grasps her hand before she can get too far, looking at the stranger with a less-than-friendly expression.

“Oh Miya! I’m a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo with me?” He indulges his fan, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, even as she steps out of the camera’s focus. The stranger parts with a grateful smile to both Atsumu and Y/N, which feels unnecessary, but Y/N returns anyway. The friends continue their shopping trip before making the trek to Atsumu’s apartment building. Y/N is quiet, in her head about the whole fan interaction that lasted a total of five minutes, but Atsumu says nothing - even stays quiet until the pair are up in his apartment.

“Everything okay? Not bored of me are ya?”

She smiles weakly at him, settling to rest against his kitchen counter. “It’s just… I- nevermind it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, hand waving in front of her as if trying to shoo away the negative cloud above her head. But Atsumu quickly grabs her hand, pulling her into the space between his arms.

“It’s not stupid if ‘s how yer feeling.. What’s up?”

“Okay…” She starts, pushing away from his chest to give herself some literal and mental space. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back at the opposite counter to Y/N, who's mirroring his stance except her head is thrown back, eyes searching his ceiling for the right words to come next. “Are you always like… this… with the girls who give you head?” When she looks at him, his head is tilted to the left in confusion, making her huff anxiously. “Okaaay.. you’ve complimented me more in the past three weeks than any other person has in my entire life… is that normal for you to do with the girls hooking up with you or am I the exception? It’s not a big deal.. It’s just that you -”

“I compliment you because you deserve to be complimented, sweetheart… but if it makes you uncomfortable then I can stop.” He cuts in, before he uncrosses his arms, palms gripping at the counter behind him. “As for the whole hooking up part… is that what you want this to be? ‘Cos we can do that, up to you Y/N, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give -”

“But why? Until three weeks ago I was under the impression that I wasn’t your ‘type’ or whatever so why now are you suddenly on board with taking whatever I give you?”

He laughs, and Y/N wants to cry. Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? Y/N is good at feeling her feelings, but has a hard time clearly expressing those feelings into words.

“Don’t laugh a-”

“Who told you what my type was? If it was ‘Samu or Omi I swear I’ll -”

“You did. You said I wasn’t your type.” He balks, eyes wide and riddled with trying to think about when he said it. “It was forever ago, but you said it. You came back from Germany, I picked you up and ‘Samu had called while I went to the restroom and well.. I overheard you say-”

“Yer an idiot, made an assumption before ya knew the whole truth, baby. I was talking about this photographer that I was kinda seein’ at the time. M’brother asked why if she’d get mad that I chose to see you fresh off the plane instead of her, said it didn’t matter because she wasn’t my type.”

Y/N wishes that the floor of his ridiculously priced apartment would swallow her whole, or that if she pushed the right buttons on his fancy microwave she’d be able to rewind life to five minutes ago when she decided to start this conversation. Frankly, she feels silly and like she shouldn’t say anything else - she knows that her words conveyed a little bit of insecurity that she’s sure Atsumu doesn’t want to have to deal with.

A beat passes before both Y/N and Atsumu open their mouths, but he’s able to get out the words first. “You really thought that you weren’t my type?” Fuck his smug little desbelieving smile.

“Don’t gimme that look - you’re usually spotted around the globe with gorgeous people… ‘s it really wrong of me to assume that I wasn’t your type? Besides,” she starts, arms crossed around her middle while Atsumu takes a tentative step to close the gap between them. “It's not that it matters now since, y’know I know that it's not true.. Just hurt my feelings at the time and well…”

“You were supposed to be the smart one between us, got the college degree ‘n everythin.” He teases, arms reaching to rest on her waist. “For someone so smart you really missed all the signs huh? Why do you think I stepped in every time some guy tried to talk t’ya? Why d’ya think that I tried to take up all your weekend time, don’t get me wrong I love spendin’ time with ya but also didn’t wanna see you goin out with any guys you’d met when I wasn’t around.” By this point he’s got her chin in his hand, ducking his head slightly to make her look at him fully. “And why the hell would I eat you out at every possible opportunity once I’ve been given the okay? Just because I get thrown it all the time by others doesn’t mean that I eat out every -”

“Alright, alright. You can shut up now. I get it, I’m dumb. I just didn’t think -”

“Oh you got tha’ right - didn’t think at all did ya?” She groans, throwing her head back. She’ll never be able to get the image of his smug face out of her head, never going to be able to live down how for once in their years long friendship Atsumu was smarter than her. All he can do though is laugh, pulling her face back down to his and giving her forehead a soft kiss, making her stomach erupt with flutters.

“If you tell anyone about this conversation, I swear to god Miya I’ll-”

“Shh it’s always gotta be a threat with you huh? Why can’t you just admit that you were stupid for once?”

“Not happening.”

“Not even if it means you’re stupidly in like with me”

“No, because I’m not stupidly in like with you… I just adore your stupid self more than I’d ever admit in front of anyone else.”

He laughs, bumping his nose against her with a laugh before kissing her softly. Everything is great, life is great. Y/N loves Atsumu and Atsumu loves her, and she isn’t some sad, movie cliché any longer. She’s got this gorgeous guy who practically worships her, so freely giving himself to her. He pulls away from kissing her for a second, taking a moment to appreciate the way that her eyes are closed happily.

“Just so y’know… I adore you too.” Kiss. “But you are never allowed to call me stupid again… from now on I’m the smart one in this relationship.”

A/N pt2: and so that’s it hehe. thank you sm for reading I hope you enjoyed it. any little comments you have in the tags would be nice to read or yeah. this is my side blog so like hgjdgsh if I respond to you it’s gonna be from my main haha

[pleasantanathema]

Graves into Gardens | Reiner Braun x Reader | Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Revelations 

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Modern AU, spoilers up to season four, slight manga spoilers (only by including characters met later), captivity, mentions of death, violence enemies to lovers, angst, and eventual smut (ohohoho we’re so hot on it now, just wait until the end of this one)

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Thank you so, so much to everyone who has left comments, screamed in reblog tags, and just encouraged me to create this story. I have never felt so much love for a fic in the time I’ve been writing.

This chapter reveals a lot, and it’s a little longer than the rest, but it’s for good reason- the end of this is one of my favorite things I’ve written.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

        Reiner’s apartment truly wasn’t much. You thought he’d been joking, perhaps was even being humble, but the small studio apartment was quite dismal. The walls were stark white, a few faded posters peeling off the wall from neglect, a couple of medals and trophies lining a small bookshelf that was bursting with paperbacks and notebooks. A simple bed with a royal blue comforter and overstuffed pillows, the most compact L-shaped couch in front of a tv, and a corner dominated by a desk with two monitors and stacks of documents, manila envelopes, and crates of papers crammed below.

        A kitchenet that looked hardly used was tucked away in another corner, the entryway to a small bathroom right near it.

        There was truly nothing worth looking twice at, save a handful of framed photos scattered around. 

        You’d taken it all in rather hurriedly, still out of breath from practically running through snowy alleyways, the developing snowstorm covering the land like fresh linen. There was a window near his bed, which you gravitated toward after kicking off your damp boots by the door. Not much a view, either. Just more desolate, brick buildings and a sorry looking street below.

        He told you once that he didn’t grow up with much, and it unfortunately seemed like despite joining the ranks of the military, he was still left with close to nothing.

        “What are we here for?”

        He was busy toiling with the thermostat, thick fingers mashing against the heat button to try to warm the small box of an apartment.

        “You won’t like it,” he grumbled, golden eyes glancing over to you with a tinge of regret painting his brow.

        “Then why bring me?”

        “Because you need to see it.”

        You tucked your hands under your arms, the chill of the winter’s day finally settling into your bones.

        You watched keenly as he shrugged off his snow laden jacket, hanging it by the door before promptly locking it. He seemed as out of breath as you were, nose red from the cold, hands shaking as he fumbled with his phone. You bit the inside of your cheek with impatience, a small flame of ire licking its way into your chest.

        Bringing you out here could get you killed. He knew that, right? Of course he did, but he did it anyways. Surely this matter of seemingly great importance could’ve been fetched by one of his comrades. You hadn’t quite considered the danger leaving the headquarters could bring upon you until you were dashing through the streets, the heavy paw of Reiner’s hand squeezing around your wrist. At one point in time, he’d shoved you back down another corridor, shielding you with the size of his body as particular caravan of cars turned down the roadway. He seemed to fear any pair of government eyes spying you.

        He always was so careless.

        He was busy texting someone, still standing idle, lip worried between his teeth.

        Must be the girl you ran into that’s giving him a headache. He probably thought he could slip out and back again without a soul noticing, without anyone giving him grievance, but that bright eyed little cousin of his had ruined that. She’d been so excited to see him; he probably hadn’t been to see his family quite a while, seeing that he was on guard duty after his last mission. 

        How many days had it been since you’d been here? You’d honestly lost track of time, your world feeling like it had been caught in a slow turn of molasses. A few seconds could feel like hours, days felt like minutes, every heartbeat felt like it could be your last. You tried to add it all up in your head, eyes closing as you replayed all the events that led to you standing in Reiner Braun’s home in Marley.

        A week and a half, you surmised. But it could be a little more, a little less. You think you would have kept your eyes on the sun a little more acutely, seeing that you’d missed it rise and fall for at least two days when you were bound in that cell.

        “Are you alright?”

        For a moment, you thought you had spoken the words. You were thinking them, but he asked you instead.

        “That’s a loaded question,” you looked back down to the street, catching the sight of a line of what appeared to be school children marching in tandem down the sidewalk, snow in their hair and happiness on their faces, “but for the moment, I’m okay.”

        Reiner pulled his lips to the side, considering your words. Maybe it hadn’t dawned on him that you couldn’t have been in any state of ease since you’d been promptly abducted and plopped down in this new world to navigate.

        “Are you alright?” You encored, observing how his worried thumbs were still fast against the screen.

        “Have I ever been?”

        You made at face at that reply, corners of your mouth turning down while your shoulders shrugged. Fair enough. 

        Though, for the first time, a bit of pity crept into your mind. Reiner didn’t really ask for this life, did he? He was doing whatever he could to get by, fallen rather inelegantly into the position of being sent to Paradis, and was now being handed you to watch over, presumably without his full consent. You were both pawns in this world, kings and rooks dominating the board and playing you both for fools.

        Being a Scout hadn’t been your intention, either. You’d once had other dreams: college, a career, a family, but you’d been grandfathered into the role by your government working parents, and cemented into it when they’d died. You had nothing else to do, so you served. You served your country, your friends, but you also served yourself, using the role to keep your life afloat, even if it sometimes meant spilling the lifeblood of others, even if it meant sacrificing aspirations and settling. Though, you would admit that some rather beautiful things managed to bloom from the barren soil. Regrettably, those had all been left behind, washed away by tides you couldn’t control.

        “I’m sorry,” Reiner grunted, sinking into the cushions of the couch, “she—she already opened her mouth. I’ve gotten Annie to settle things at HQ, but I imagine Chief is still furious.”

        “Is it such a bad thing to take me out here? I mean, you could easily stop me if I tried to run away.” 

        “Could I?”

        You debated his question. While you were quite nimble, you’d be like a rat in a maze trying to find a way out of this god forsaken place.

        “If I let you,” you reasoned, a tinge of humor behind your words.

        He smiled, all warm and soft, full lips parting. The realization that you hadn’t seen him smile in years pummeled into your chest like a heavy hand stealing from your lungs. It made the sorrow that much more palpable.

        “For the record, Zeke is more upset I didn’t ask permission. He’s hellbent on his authority.”

        “So I’ve noticed.”

        You also pinpointed something else of note, a picture glinting on his nightstand catching your attention.

        It resembled the same one you’d seen on Zeke’s desk, only now you could make out the faces. Reiner didn’t pay you any mind as you reached for the framed memory, plucking it from its home, dust from the back of it staining your fingers. 

        A red booth housed five familiar faces, all grinning over half-drank pints of beer. Their arms were interlocked around each other’s shoulders, all the men young and handsome, Reiner and Bertholdt even more youthful than when they’d first walked through the doors of the Scout Office. Then there was Zeke seated next to Porco, the latter in that green jacket you’d seen him in earlier. But your eyes were set on a face you’d never thought you’d see again, a face that possessed the very recesses of your mind, only appearing late at night when you’d see it in corners, catch it lingering behind your eyelids. He was attractive, appeared personable, messy dark hair and distinct brow that matched the boy next to him.

        “Reiner…” you whispered, still unmoving from your spot between the bed and the window pane, “who is this?”

        He peered over his shoulder, any hint of a smile now vanished like etchings being erased from a page.

        “You don’t recognize him?”

        Him, a photo full of faces, and he knew who you were asking about. He’d probably stared too long at the ghost himself. You wondered if he ever placed the frame down at night to sleep better; you would have, if you’d killed someone you cared about.

        “You know I do.”

        Reiner held his hand out, long arm stretched across the back of the couch. You finally talked your feet into moving, shuffling across the hardwood as you placed the offending item into his upturned palm. 

        Then, you sat next to him, your knees bumping together as you tried to analyze the emotions stirring within. You couldn’t quite place any of them—Regret? Fear? Curiosity? Sadness? But they were quelled when Reiner placed his hand on your twitching thigh, pressing that anxiousness away for a moment.

        “Marcel Galliard, Porco’s older brother.”

        Your lips parted, both of your attentions centered on the souvenir held between you.

        “It was his birthday, and we hadn’t had the chance to celebrate mine and Zeke’s yet either, so we all went out for drinks. I unfortunately don’t remember much from that night, but I remember being…happy, content.”

        “Why’d you do it?” you asked it a little quickly, “why would you…save me, not him?”

        “I told you, some things I don’t have a choice about.”

        “But you—you could’ve said he killed me and got away, right? You did have a choice.”

        You saw how his jaw clenched, muscles in his cheek flexing.

        “I don’t know.” Agony lined his voice, the words soft, hushed.

        That situation was something you both thought about far too often than you’d like to admit, a late-night mulling that never led to conversation.

        “I’m sorry.” You took the photo away, placed it face down on the coffee table.

        “Don’t be. We can’t change the past,” he said solemnly. 

        You could, however, lament it. Which is something you did perhaps too often.

━━━─── • ───━━━

         Reiner wasn’t ready for what was to come. He knew he never would be, which is why he threw precaution to the wind and decided to lay his cards on the table now. 

         He had to pick a side. Even if these wars didn’t truly concern him, even if the fate of countries ultimately didn’t matter to his conscious, you did—you mattered, he mattered, and he had to start thinking about things on a smaller scale. 

         He wanted to go back to Paradis. He practically yearned to go back in time, to return to a place where being Eldian didn’t matter, where his status didn’t matter, where he could remake himself into something new. If it hadn’t been for his binds connecting him to Marley, he could’ve actually seen hope instead of sorrow on the horizon. He could never seem to cut the vines, could never actually get away from the people controlling his life. 

         But now, now he saw an out, and it was with you. When this cataclysm first happened, all he wanted was for you to be dead, for you to go away and leave him and his miseries alone to rot and wither. Being with you, however, reminded him of a life he could have. He just had to make it happen, he had to start molding his own clay, had to keep bearing the weight of the world like the weary Atlas until he could find a way to make it turn in his favor.

         He was tired of wishing for death.

         Which is why he had to bring you here and why he would handle the consequences that were waiting in the distance. 

         You might not be very helpful to Marley, but he could be of use to Paradis.

         “I believe you,” he hadn’t noticed he was still touching you, fingers gripping onto your leg like a lifeline, “about Zeke. I believe you because I—we, Pieck, Annie, Bertie—we know he’s up to something beyond what he tells us and the generals. He is working with someone in Paradis. We don’t know who, but we do think we know what for.”

         “Oh my god…oh my god. Why didn’t you—”

         “You think I can just fucking say that when anyone could be outside my door listening?” 

         “I thought you said I wouldn’t like what you have to show me.” 

         He noticed how your shoulders relaxed, like you’d been holding in tension for far too long.

         “That���s not…I have something else for you.”

         He didn’t move just yet, not quite ready to actually set this all in motion.

         This all hinged on you. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew you quite well; of course, that was the you of four years ago. The you he had next to him now was older, scarred, burdened, but he still felt that same magnetic pull to you that he could never explain. He was just a moon consigned to orbit you, to be connected to you even when neither of you desired the attachment.

         He knew you were going to be upset, livid; his skin was already prickled at the thought of how you would possibly punch him if when you read what he had to give.

         At least you always looked pretty when you were angry.

         He could still remember how Jean had cowered undeath his desk when you’d stomped into the office after discovering he’d used the branch’s own money to play in a high-stakes poker game while undercover. He’d been fishing for information on the elites, found himself tipsy, and then found himself on the receiving end of your fury. The only thing that stopped your yelling was Erwin, who, for personal reasons, didn’t want any fuss made over government money being gambled away.

         Erwin. He’d never cared for how close you were to him.

         Reiner finally stood, expecting you to sit and wait, but you were following him like a shadow, small hand wrapped around his forearm as he moved to his computer. When he sat down, that hand moved up to his shoulder, your fingers squeezing into his muscle with encouragement. It didn’t really put him at ease.

         He turned the desktop on, the monitor flashing to life. He typed in his password quickly, then went searching for that folder he’d kept hidden away so he’d never bother to look at it again. 

         “Hand me one of those,” he nodded his head in the direction of a small container of flash drives on the other side of his desk. You plucked one out of its resting spot and went ahead and placed it into the port on the computer. He knew you wouldn’t question why had so many on hand—you both knew how it all worked, you both kept important documents that had to be shuffled around digitally.

         Familiar names lined the inside of the folder, ones he’d once tried to forget. He heard you suck in a quick breath and took a moment to look up at you. Your brow was set, tongue obviously caught between your teeth to keep yourself from saying anything. 

         This was his job. He was in charge of keeping tabs on The Scouts, he was the one who fed Marley all the information they could. Well, almost all of it. 

         “These are files I never gave over. They’re yours now. I never gave Marley everything they wanted I…I thought I was protecting you. There’s also a few files on Zeke that Pieck created in here, too.” 

         You both watched as he copied the folder over to the flash drive, one by one the names and dates slowly dropping into a new safe place for them.

         He touched your waist, signaling you to step back. He rolled his chair out, ducking under the desk for a split moment to gather a box of the printed documents he had actually handed over; the action was a mistake. 

         You were leaned over him in an instant, hand clutching and moving the mouse so quickly it scraped against the desk. He attempted to reach up and stop you, but he paused—there were still bruises on your wrist, on your fingers, faded watercolors of surviving pain. He’d gripped your hand, your wrists, all day, why hadn’t you stopped him?

         He already knew which file you opened; he didn’t need to look. But he did anyways, moving the crate to the side and sitting back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest. His poor heart felt like it was going to burst.

         Marco Bott’s face filled part of the screen, all sweet and freckled like he remembered. Those kind eyes were looking straight at him, judging him. Reiner was just waiting, he knew what was said in there, he wrote it all, still recalled how puffy his eyes were when he did it, how much he regretted it.

         There was a pregnant pause, one so heavy he felt like he was being crushed.

         This all hinged on you. He needed you to help him, needed you to help you.

         “I fucking knew it.”

         He was already flinching, shrinking. He watched the screen scroll, the black letters and white spaces all a blur.

         “Threat eliminated by gunfire, killed by organized crime members after…” you hesitated, eyes dancing as you reread the words, “after his gear was removed to ensure death.”

         He was on his feet before you could hit him, backing away from your clenched fists, chair rolling to be forgotten in the corner.

         “What. Did. You. Do?” 

         Each word came with a step toward him. He was running out of space, nearly tripping over the edge of the couch as you encroached upon him.

         “What did you do?” Your voice was getting louder, pain written across your face like he’d just stabbed you. “You told me there was no fucking truth about Marco!”

         “There isn’t! Marco’s dead, there’s no changing—”

         “There’s no changing the past,” you mocked his words, venom dripping from your tongue.

━━━─── • ───━━━

         Your blood was boiling, wrath itching between your fingers. 

         You were going to kill him. You were going to wind your fists around his neck and watch the life drain slowly from his eyes like he fucking deserved.

         You couldn’t believe you’d let you guard down, that you’d started to trust him. You always knew something had gone awry the night Marco died. He’d been slaughtered, ransacked with bullet holes across his body. It was like he had been dropped into the line of fire, dangled out like a piece of meat to be eaten alive.

         And he didn’t have his gear, that’s what stumped everyone looking into the mess of it all. It was like he had walked in unprepared, like a boy on a suicide mission walking straight to his death. Thirty-six bullets and even more empty, splattered holes littered had riddled his corpse. Jean had fallen to his knees. Connie didn’t speak for a week. Sasha didn’t eat for days.

         Because of Reiner’s decision, that man suffered, you all mourned, and you felt like you most of all had let him down. Marco had been your protégé, you’d taught him everything he knew, and that was the first mission he was allowed to go on after his training. You’d been tailing a rather violent gang, found their hideout, and were infiltrating for arrests and to see what was inside. Marco had been paired with Reiner and Bertholdt to lead the first wave of infiltration, while you and the rest waited for the signal to rush the back doors to the run-down ranch not far out of the city of Trost. They’d been up ahead by the barn that was sandwiched between stables.

         But your signal turned to sounds of gunfire. You could still hear it echoing in your ears as you approached Reiner. The sounds of metal clicking, of repeated blasts from automatic weapons ringing across the hillsides like single note windchimes in a raging storm.

         “Tell me why.”

         Your fingers were digging into his shirt before you could stop yourself, the threads of the worn Henley threatening to rip from your nails sinking into it. You could actually feel his heart beat against his chest, a frightened bird trying to flee his ribcage.

         When he didn’t speak right away, your anger flared, made you shove him back against the wall with all your might. It made your arms hurt, like you’d just slammed your hands against brick, a sharp pain that made you hiss.

         “He overheard us—”

         “Overheard what?”

         You could tell he was getting a little infuriated as well, nostrils flaring as he looked down his nose at you. It must look funny, you pressing him against the wall of his own apartment. Reiner was nearly twice your size—he was bigger than most people, and he towered over you like a looming threat.

         “Let me fucking finish,” he took a deep breath, eyes nearly glazing over, “He overheard Bertie and I talking about how we should relay the details of that gang, of organized crime in general, to Marley. We—we hadn’t had time to talk alone since we’d been prepping that shit for days. We didn’t know Marco followed us around to that side of the rooftop.”

         “That’s it? He heard you whispering little secrets and you killed him for it?”

         One of the buttons near the neckline of his shirt popped as your knuckles dug deeper into the fabric.

         “He literally heard us say that we needed to find a time to call General Magath of Marley. If he lived and told someone that—,” his breath caught for a moment when one of your nails started to pierce his skin, “it would have compromised our entire mission. We’d been there for three years, and he could’ve ruined it all.”

         You were at your breaking point. You could feel that terrible heat that comes with sadness creeping up your neck, snaking around to your cheeks. If you weren’t careful, you were going to cry. All this time, all this time spent wondering why, and this was why he had to die?

         Killing wasn’t unusual in your life. It was part of the job, something you’d unfortunately had to do on a few occasions. You knew those strangers who ate your bullets or your knife had families, that they were people too, but most of them were monsters, thieves, rapists, threats to the corrupted balance of the governmental structure. But Marco…he was like family, and finding his limp, almost unrecognizable body had sent even the most hardened veterans into despair. Levi took off from work the next day; the only time he had ever missed a day on the job.

         “Tell me how!” You truly didn’t mean to scream it, but the emotions raging in your stomach, your chest, it all ached too much. 

         “Be quiet, I have neighbors—”

         “I don’t give a fuck about your god damn neighbors, Reiner!”

         He finally moved then, his once idle hand now jerking up to your face to fiercely hold your cheeks beneath his fingers. You tried to smack his hand away, your own fingers digging and tugging at his wrist.

         “Letme-go!” Your words were jumbled, your open mouth allowing his fingers to press your cheeks in between your teeth.

         “You have to be fucking quiet,” he hissed, a whole new light shining in his eyes, a familiar rage you had seen when you’d fought against him the day Paradis was invaded. The reality of how large he was sunk in again; he looked like a vengeful god peering down at you, all hot-blooded and incensed.

         You thought for a moment he wouldn’t hurt you, but then you remembered he already had. He had the inclination to be just as cruel as you could be.

         His fingers stayed firm against your cheeks, holding you like he was daring you to speak again. 

         “Tellmehow,” you managed to spit out, wincing when he took the leverage he had on your face and used it to shove you back. You stumbled, banging into the side of the couch as you rubbed at the sore flesh of your mouth.

         But he was unmoving, back straight against the wall, a statue built on the foundation of wrath and agony, waiting to crack and fall onto you if you made the wrong move.

         “We knew their guards were patrolling. Bertholdt covered his mouth while I stripped him of his equipment, of his guns, and I pushed him off the roof and into their sight.”

         He said it so calmly that it made you sick. But that was a reality he had to live with every day, wasn’t it? He had to replay in his mind over and over again that he had done such a vile thing, he had to justify it else it would eat him alive.

         Your tears were hot, but contained, your lashes blinking them aside as you just stared at him. You opened your mouth to scream at him, you were so ready to spew hatred and let it burn him, but he was quicker than you. 

         With one step, he was on you, your hair wrapped in his fast as he wrenched your head to the side, smarting your scalp to silence you.

         “Marco’s dead, and I’m sorry for it. You fucking screaming will do nothing but have the assholes who live below me calling the authorities and you’ll find yourself in a much worse prison than before.”

         You didn’t like how he was right. Still, you glared up at him, brows pinched together in pain.

         It felt like you’d merged into him, those rapid hearts within your chests suddenly beating as one with the same suffering, the same torment. You both had to live with the poor reality of your lives; you were killers, you were monsters too. 

         You were too close to him, could smell the heat of his skin, could feel his breath against your sore cheeks. Your hands were flat against his chest, trapped between you, his arm an anchor as it tugged at the roots of your hair, keeping your face turned towards his.

         You couldn’t help but look at him, there was nowhere else to focus, only on him. It was like you could see the pages of a book open across his face, wretchedness and anguish painted in broad strokes in the fair wrinkles around his eyes, in the curve of his brow. It was beauty and pain bleeding together, the amber color of his eyes swirling as he searched your own face like he was looking for something. What would he find hidden behind your own grief?

         “I hate you,” you whispered, breath long gone.

         “I know.”

         “And I’ll never forgive you.”

         It was like he was moving closer, the time you were losing now completely stopped, frozen between your bodies.

         “Don’t want forgiveness,” he caught your whisper and gave it back, “just judgement.”

         His lips met yours with a bruising fervor. 

         The hand in your hair flexed, pulled you closer, made you gasp as your hands slid up his chest. Your fingers found his rumbling throat, and in the back of your mind, you recalled how just moments ago you were waiting to snatch the life from his neck. You felt his pulse beating beneath your thumb, a war drum beating hot and fast in his veins. Your mouth was moving against his, eyes closed, suddenly greedy and hungry; for what, you didn’t know. All you did know was that this felt so wrong, like you’d taken a misstep and landed right into the lion’s lap, but that it also felt like absolution, like he was devouring your sins and taking them for his own.

         Your mouth slanted for him, a hum resounding from both your throats as you fell into this new, strange rhythm. You’d thought about it before, kissing him like this, feeling those plush lips against yours, angry and hot and needy. You cherished the taste of him, like a dark, rich wine filling up your mouth, spilling over and enveloping your senses. Your tongue tempted him to open his lips, to let you in. There was no hesitation. 

         His other hand found your hip, fingers mean and pulling you impossibly closer. Your palms drifted up from his neck, found his face, thumbs smoothing over cheekbones. You could feel the soft hairs of his cheeks, his chin, sweeping against your skin. It all felt too good, like you were getting lost, delirium taking over. Nothing else mattered anymore, just the gratification of tasting his emotions, of taking his groans into your mouth and echoing them back. You pressed harder into him, kept your tongue tangled with his, noses brushing as you found new beats to your rhythm. 

         It was wicked, sinful, something your heart was pleading for and your mind screaming out against. But you couldn’t stop. You didn’t stop. It was as if you kissed for as long as you’d known each other. Every year passed by, every regret, every sharp turn of your tongues against one another, all the hurt and longing, placed into one moment of your bodies finding one another.

         When the heat began to die, you were both still stroking the flames, deep, languid kisses turned into smaller presses of your lips against one another. It was intoxicating and you felt so drunk, so, so drunk off of him.

         There was a stillness between you, like the gentle sigh and breaths of the world as it awoke to the morning sun when you finally stopped. A lulling peacefulness lingered in the wake of what you’d done.

         His hands were still on your body, in your hair, looser now. Yours were still on his face when your eyes fluttered open.

         “I’m sorry,” he murmured, lips plump, wet.

          “I know.”

Next Chapter

[reddeadreference]

Blog Progress Update (Travel Blog Style 😎#13)

At Jack’s party 50 million things happen all at once I can't get everything X.x Susan and Karen are singing loudly, Hosea's saying something at the campfire, John and Abigail and talking about the three of them staying in the same room, now Micah's saying some story and Uncle has joined Karen and Susan in a song with Javier playing and NOW Molly is yelling at Dutch. 

It's too much!

Dutch just gave an ANGRY speech about faith and it got dark and thundery REAL QUICK. Like I get it game… the foreshadowing weather isn’t needed.

Mary-Beth is trying to get Karen to bed and Karen is throwing up. Mary-Beth gave up and Karen passed out on one of the bedrolls under Bill/Charle’s area. Never saw that before..

Kieran just came up to me staying how he'd be dead if he hadn't joined them and- I GET IT THUNDER AND LIGHTNING! BAD TIMES AHEAD!

Bill… Bill just decked Pearson... WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

Here comes the rain..   Neat detail that when it rains people go inside the house. (like I know some sleep there now but Strauss still sleeps outside and he came in. Kieran was sleeping outside then came into the piano room to sleep too)

Saved Tilly. I love how this mission shows Grimshaw does care.

Ugh Strauss dude stop.. O-O this is the first mission where Arthur's started coughing like THAT and it HURTS

I can't find Kieran…. I'm not even anywhere near close to that mission yet! Where's my boy?!

Branwen is missing too.. no...

No... No no no... I JUST started chapter 4, he can't be gone yet! Are you kidding me?! Is he really gone from the start of the chapter?!I thought he’d be here for at least SOME of it…

Also would the ghosts of Lemoyne Raiders please stop yelling profanities…

Got robbed for $700 in Saint Denis cause I followed a guy down an alley (I figured he would rob me so I took out my knife. No chance to use it as someone hit me from behind.) Woke up in the cemetery, ran back, they're gone. 

Good thing I just fuckin saved. HAHA GOT EM! Oh if I see that guy again I'm just gonna shoot him on the spot wanted level be damned, that was $700.

-

Well… time to get cleaned up for Mary's mission because Arthur 100% would get cleaned up for her… shave, haircut, new clothes, bath at the saloon, sleep til noon. Ready to feel that heartbreak ..

"You could've cleaned yourself up a bit"

GIRL. DO YOU NOT SEE THE EFFORT I PUT INTO THIS?! I’M WEARING NORMAL SHOES! I GOT STUFF IN MY HAIR! I SHAVED!!

...Is it the hat? Is it cause I kept Arthur’s usual hat? I mean... he's average weight… He’s CLEAN.. There's no pleasing this woman…

"Theater? Me?" Bruh… we've been there over 10 times now, don't act like we haven't.

Oh as much as I hate the woman I love how happy she makes him look…

Idk if the same shows play for the date every time. Well it's a new speech by Al so I'm assuming yes. Yeah Robin is singing a new song so yeah. FIRE LADY (THIS is where her third act is damn it! I knew it happened at some point) Maybe now I'll be able to do that mystery thing now since I’ve seen every act at least once

The look on his face T-T I can’t...

(Gif made by me)

Alright I’m getting all optional stuff done that I can first, met Charles twice… am I allowed to show Female Presenting Nipple if it’s art? I’ll probably get flagged… oh well, we’ll see when we see. I met with Professor Andrew Bell the 3rd and as much as I don’t really like his mission I’m doing it cause I gotta do everything. Since I had to go to Rhodes for the first part of his mission I ran into Mr. Black and Mr. White (love those two), so I got their first mission done. I was waiting until day for Brother Dorkins (I never realized Rev. Swanson tells you about him...)

JFC I swear my horse doesn’t come unless it can fucking see me…that and it gives up after two seconds.

358 photos onto the flashdrive O_O

Brother Dorkins my guy!

DAMN IT EDITH!

DAMN IT HORSE I swear naming her Ruin was SO fitting… like even Arthur is saying “Damn that horse” “Every time” and she IS within whistling range… She went five feet as I’m running halfway across town to her…

Uh… Never in all my time of playing this game and running around Saint Denis have I seen Lemoyne Raiders SET THE BACK OF THE CITY HALL ON FIRE

Ah time to go see Charles but I wanna change clothes so to the stor- FUCKING PICKPOCKETS “just a bit of cash, that’s it!” BRUH THAT WAS $130. That ain’t A BIT. Want me to punch you A BIT?! (nah I didn’t, I lassoed him and got it back.)

I got Arthur a new shirt and he looked so happy Q-Q (also I really like this outfit I put together, I usually don’t make him wear blue…)

(Gif made by me)

Lookie~

Alrighty ready to laugh!

WHY DID I NEVER SEE ALBERT’S PHOTOS HERE BEFORE?!?!??!?!

I DIDN’T KNOW THEY WERE HERE!!!! THERE’S A PHOTO OF ARTHUR!!!!!! (it’s not anything he ever wore and I’ve never let his beard get that long but- IT’S HIM)

Well… definitely going to make a separate post for Charles’ Art which WILL get flagged but it’s art soooooo, I’ll probably get it back up at some point.

The pure JOY this mission brings Arthur...

(Gif made by me)

[miyanom]

DEVILS PARADISE (part two)

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!READER

synopsis: arriving in paradis, y/n slowly grows close to the devils she was taught to hate.

warnings: mentions of death, let me know if I need to add anything else!

notes: i feel like this chapter isn’t the best, but i wanted to write about y/n and jean a little and also write about y/n’s friendships with the people of Paradis before we head into trost arc.

word count: 2479

Shaky breaths fell from Y/N’s chapped lips as she held on tightly to Annie, keeping the unconscious girl from slipping off the Armoured Titan’s shoulder as he ran through the town beyond the wall.

Reiner had his hands raised to protect the others from the rubble of the gate as he crashed through, but as his hands moved to his sides once more, Y/N found her eyes widening.

Chaos. It was utter chaos.

Homes had been crushed from debris that went flying after the Colossal Titan kicked the gate, people had been crushed in attempts to escape, and mindless Titans were flooding into the city.

Y/N’s eyes continued to scan the area, only stopping as they fell onto a woman screaming for her husband who had been crushed beneath a Boulder.

With an arm still wrapped around Annie, Y/N used her other hand to pull them closer toward the armoured titan’s neck, fear coursing through her veins as the image of the crushed body weighed heavy in her mind.

The Marleyan’s words echoed through her head, reminding her of the sins of the Eldians; the sins that brought this destruction to them.

But Y/N couldn’t stop herself from questioning the things she had been taught as more screams filled the evening air.

Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it? Did they deserve it?

“Armin Arlert, from Shiganshina District, sir!” A blonde boy answered the training instructor.

If Y/N remembered correctly, it was Shiganshina that the warriors destroyed all those years ago. The day still weighed heavy on her heart, though she knew it was the only way.

What other choice did they have? If they were to go home to Marley without the Founding Titan, their terms would end prematurely.

“Yeah? That’s a stupid name. Your parents give you that?” Shadis questioned.

“My grandfather!”

“Arlert, what are you doing here?!”

“Trying to aid humanity’s victory!” Armin answered immediately.

When ordered to about face, Y/N’s eyes met Armin’s cerulean. Trying to aid humanity’s victory… humanity’s victory would only come when the devils were gone, that’s what Marley told them all.

The instructor passed by Y/N, barely sparing the girl even the smallest of glances as he moved down the row.

Jean Kirstein was the name Y/N heard as she tuned back into the initiation. His goal caused the girl to frown in distaste, and it took everything in her to not just roll her eyes.

To live a safe life in the interior, he had said.

The island devils truly were selfish, Y/N realised.

How could anyone hear about what happened in Shiganshina and choose to escape further into the walls? Do the devils not care about their own?

Would they rather save themselves than save the people they care for by ridding the world of Titans?

If Y/N were in their shoes, she knew what she would pick; the chance to save the people she cared about.

That’s why she was here, after all. It was why she went through the rigorous training of the warrior unit. All to make her family honorary Marleyans, to save them from the life of the Eldians.

She was here, pretending to be an island devil, pretending to be the thing she was taught to hate, all for her family.

The devils couldn’t say the same, they wanted to retreat further into the walls, into what they believed was safe.

If only they knew…

“Huh? You’re from Wall Maria, too?” Mina’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at Y/N, who sat across the table.

Y/N rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly as she nodded. It was a cover story the warriors had come up with a while ago, it made it easier for them to blend in when the survivors of Wall Maria found refuge in Wall Rose.

A family had unexpectedly taken Y/N in just a few months after the attack. It wasn’t Y/N’s idea to take them up on their offer, they were devils, after all.

But Reiner had urged her, he told her it could help them with their mission, that perhaps this family could provide more insight into life inside the walls.

He had been right.

The family helped Y/N understand what life was like for the devils of Paradis, though she’d never tell Reiner and the others just how much she had come to pity these people.

The family had lost their son when the armoured Titan broke through the inner gate, apparently he was a soldier in the Garrison.

Y/N spent nights upon nights thinking about that. Each night giving her more and more reasons to think that maybe the devils didn’t deserve what the warriors had been brought here to do.

That family had shown her kindness, a kindness she never saw from own mother. So maybe-

No. This is the only way, Y/N repeated to herself. This is the only way…

“Y/N?” Mina spoke up again, staring at her with concern painted across her visage. “Are you alright?”

“Ye.. yeah.” Y/N nodded, averting her gaze nervously. “I just- it’s not easy to think about what happened.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. Y/N hated thinking about the day she arrived inside the walls, whenever she remembered it, she remembered all those bodies she saw…

She remembered the screams and the blood, and the thought that maybe the Eldians were innocent and it was them who were the bad guys.

“That’s okay. I’m sorry for asking,” Mina let out a sigh, placing her hand over Y/N’s that rested on the table. “I’m-”

“It’s okay,” Y/N shook her head, quickly knocking Mina’s hand away as she stood up and grabbed her plate. “We should get going anyways, everyone’s cleaning up.”

As Y/N left the mess hall, she let out a frustrated sigh. No, that wasn’t suspicious at all…

Oddly enough, learning to use the odm gear the devils designed to kill Titans came fairly easy to Y/N. And before she knew it, they were moving onto hand-to-hand combat training.

When Y/N had been assigned to the mission to attack Paradis, she never expected she would join yet another military program. Not when the things they were learning for the first time here, were things she had known before she was even 10 years old.

“Go easy on the devils,” Reiner had warned them. “We don’t want suspicion to be drawn to us. Not now, we’re too close.”

Y/N hated to admit that he was right. Not about being close to the finish line, but about not wanting to draw suspicion to themselves.

But it was hard to remember his warning when she had been partnered with Jean Kirstein for training… She had known it on the day they met, and she knew it now, almost three years later.

Jean was a selfish, cocky bastard.

“Aw come on. You can do better than that.” His annoying laugh filled her ears as she quickly turned back to look at him, her eyes narrowing into a glare as her grip on the wooden knife tightened slightly. “By the time you take me down, I could’ve taken on at least eight people.”

“Yeah, why don’t you try testing that, Jean?” His name fell from her lips with venom as she chucked the knife in his direction, watching as he caught it with ease.

How much more annoying could he possibly get? Y/N asked herself.

Jean rolled his shoulders back in a stretch before getting into the correct stance, and within seconds, he was running at Y/N.

His eyes widened as the girl grabbed onto his arm, twisting herself around so her back was facing him as she kept pressure on his arm to keep the knife pointed away from her. This wasn’t a move they were taught by the trainers, he realised immediately.

He reached out for the knife with his other hand, though as soon as Y/N caught his movement, she kicked her left leg back, her foot slamming against his bottom calf causing his knee to buckle beneath him.

Putting all her strength into it, Y/N took advantage of Jean’s shaky footing, throwing him over her shoulder and watching as his back hit the dirt with a loud groan of pain falling from his lips.

With a smirk, she crouched down to pick up the knife, twirling it between her fingers as she glanced back at him.

He was still on the floor, staring up at her with wide eyes and a light blush painted across his cheeks. “Aw come on, Jean. You can do better than that,” she taunted.

Jean was ignoring her, Y/N realised as the trainees from the 104th settled down in the mess hall for dinner that night.

She didn’t blame him, she would be embarrassed too if she were in his shoes.

It wasn’t exactly his fault that she had been through this before, in a much harsher environment where the punishment for a failure like that was much worse than a simple comment made by their instructor.

Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her hand as her eyes scanned the dining hall, the sound of chatter filling the room. It wasn’t like this back in Marley, they would always eat in silence, in fear.

But in Paradis, those fears no longer weighed heavy on her shoulders. She no longer had to sleep with one eye open, terrified the Marleyans would decide to torch Liberio in the middle of the night.

She would never say it aloud, but maybe the devils were right to flee and hide here.

“-right, Y/N?” Christa’s voice snapped Y/N out of her thoughts, causing her to quickly turn around.

“Huh?”

“There she goes drifting off again,” Ymir commented, her arms crossed as she stared at Y/N. “With an attitude like that, you’ll become Titan chow the second you step outside these walls.”

Christa had quickly become Y/N’s friend within the first year of training, now that they were coming close to the end of the third and final year, Y/N realised that she had practically been inseparable from Ymir and Christa during training.

Maybe she had followed Reiner’s orders too quickly, he told them to blend in with the devils. Or maybe she had found peace within the unexpected kindness… it was wrong, that’s all she really knew.

She wasn’t supposed to be getting along with the island devils, she wasn’t supposed to call them her friends and wish they would be far away from Trost when the warriors plan comes to fruition.

But they were kind, they weren’t anything like how Marley described them to be.

A conflicted feeling settled in Y/N’s stomach once more as she averted her gaze, no longer able to look Christa and Ymir in the eyes without remembering what was to happen.

They didn’t deserve it, they didn’t deserve it.

Or did they? Their ancestors had committed atrocities against the entire world, after all.

But that was their ancestors, not them. Christa, Ymir, Mina, the family that had taken her in when they found out she was a so-called orphan from Wall Maria… they didn’t do what the Eldians of the past had done, they didn’t kill anyone, did they really deserve to pay for crimes they didn’t know about?

Y/N was snapped out of her thoughts once more as Ymir waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry,” Y/N muttered, glancing at the girls who sat at the table with her.

Christa stared back with a look of concern, while Ymir seemed to not care that much at all.

“Anyways,” Ymir looked back at Christa. “I was just telling Christa here all about the tension between you and that cocky bastard when you knocked him on his ass in training today.” The girl seemed to smirk slightly as her eyes flickered back to Y/N. “I didn’t realise blockhead two had a crush on-”

“And I was telling Ymir that it’s not like that. You would’ve told me, right, Y/N?” Christa asked, looking back and forth between her and Ymir as she awaited an answer.

Y/N couldn’t tell how Ymir had come to the conclusion that she and Jean were crushing on each other, not when they had nothing but bicker constantly. Maybe almost as much as Eren and Jean did, and everyone knew how bad that was.

“It’s not like that,” Y/N confirmed, beginning to pick at her breadroll. “He was being his usual annoying self, and I put him in his place.”

“Yeah, well, looked like he enjoys being put in his place,” Ymir teased. “If you know what I-”

“Ymir!” Christa squeaked out, staring at the taller girl with wide eyes. “You’re going to embarrass them.”

I can’t like Jean, or anybody for that matter, Y/N wished she could tell them.

How could she let herself fall for an island devil? It would be enough to get her killed when she returns to Marley. Retrieving the Founding Titan wouldn’t make up for the sin of loving a devil.

No, befriending them for the sake of the mission was one thing, but loving them?

And Jean of all people? She would never love him. Even if he was from Marley and she was allowed to fall for him, she wouldn’t.

“An easy life, deep inside the walls?” Eren spoke up, his eyes narrowed in Jean’s direction.

The tone of his voice was enough to break Y/N out of her thoughts as she realised the boys would undoubtedly get into another fight.

Her eyes flickered toward Reiner, a frown tugging at her lips. It reminded her too much of how Porco was always fighting Reiner back in Marley.

“Until five years ago, this was considered deep inside the walls,” Eren continued.

“What’s your point, Eren?” Jean crossed his arms.

“You don’t need to go to the interior.” Eren placed his cup on the table. “You’ve gone soft enough in your own head, Jean.”

Y/N hid her smile by resting her head in the palm of her head, though her smile faltered for a moment when her eyes met Jean’s, who had turned to look in her direction.

As Jean turned back toward Eren, the boy began speaking again. “Don’t you think it’s strange that we’re training to fight Titans, just to end up farther away from them?”

“Who cares? For my own sake, I hope they keep this stupid system,” Jean told him.

Right, the island devils were selfish people.

And Y/N was definitely not going to fall for Jean Kirstein. Not in a million years.