#btw when omega comes to check up on the reader the reader gets so confused and calls her her baby bec she looks like rex and is blonde…….

[isaut]

𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕— f!reader x captain rex. 1.5k

whatever, this is just angst LOL, canon compliant. tw: implied torture, memory problems

The birds are chirping. You watch them, on the little data pad in front of you. There isn’t a single thought going through your mind. But then again, there’s rarely a coherent thought; you haven’t been right since the questioning. 

You have a nice room on Pabu. You could look out the window at real birds, but you like the ones on your data pad. You know these birds. You like to watch the birds on your screen in the plush chair by the window, in an oversized black shirt that you don’t know how you own. 

It doesn’t register with you as the door to your room opens.

Nice people come and eat meals with you. They bring you to a big table sometimes, and make sure that you eat everything on your plate before anything chocolatey touches your lips. Then, you go back to watching the birds. 

You watch the birds on the data pad, ignoring your visitor. Sometimes you go to watch the sky, when you’re led out by a nice man you’re pretty sure you love. But that man hasn’t been around in a while. The nice people who eat meals with you are almost him, but they aren’t. 

“How are the birds?” 

You hum, not pulling your attention away from the data pad. You’ve watched this same show more times than Rex can count. It’s the only thing you want to watch. He assumes the familiarity of it is comforting. The first time you’d shown it to him had been in your apartment, cuddled up in your bed when he’d been young and selfish. Back then, you had pointed out every species before the narrator could even speak.

At least you’re sitting up and not laying in bed.  

Rex pulls over a chair. There’s a plate of food in his hands. 

“Busy.” You wait for the red-tailed bird to leave the screen before looking over at him. “Pretty.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod. “I like them.” 

Rex’s swallow is thick. “Which one is your favorite?” He’s been gone a long time. He tries to not take it personally that you don’t seem to recognize him. Still, it stings. 

You rewind the video to show Rex the bird that had just left. 

“The humming peeper?” Rex asks for clarification. 

“You know it?” 

Rex is quiet for a moment. In your apartment, you had a stained glass wind chime hanging in the corner of your room. When the light hit it just right, it would stream through the pink and white glass of a humming peeper had cast your room in a rosy glow. Rumor has it that it brought in good dreams. He never had a nightmare in your bed. 

It had been shattered upon your bedroom floor when Rex had come to visit you and you weren’t there. When your carefully curated apartment had been ransacked.

“I know it,” Rex says, voice soft. “Do you?” 

You watch the screen, brow furrowing. Your eyes seem sharp for just one moment. “Maybe.” Then, you’re distant again. “It’s pretty.” 

Rex sighs. He addresses you by your name. “I brought you dinner.” 

“I’m not hungry,” you say, focused on the video. You don’t want to eat. 

“There’s some chocolate,” Rex says. 

Humming, you look from the screen to Rex. His eyes are a familiar amber. “Are you going to eat with me?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll eat with you.” Rex says.

He sets the plate on the table beside you, but takes it upon himself to cut up your food. If he had never stopped to talk to you, stopped and let himself become bewitched by you, you wouldn’t have been in this situation. He’s sure of it, you’d still be on Naboo and thinking for yourself.

Rex feeds you, and feels a sense of pride wash over him that you focus on him instead of the data pad. You chew thoroughly, brow furrowed as you watch Rex. He hopes you’re trying to place him. 

“Something bad happened,” you murmur. “What happened?” 

Taking a breath, Rex swallows. You take the last bite of food without complaint. You must recognize him, as you complain with everyone else about eating. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” Rex says softly. “Want some chocolate?” 

You nod. Rex busies himself with breaking the chocolate into pieces. “What have you been up to?” 

“Watching the birds,” you say. “The humming peepers.” 

Rex glances up at you. The short term memory recall is a good thing. “What else?” 

“I saw photos. It was me and Rex,” you say, looking out the window. “He’s busy helping people. And that's why he can’t come visit.” 

Rex looks up from where he’s breaking the chocolate square into bits for you to have, small enough so they’ll dissolve in your mouth. He debates for a moment if he should tell you that you’re talking about him, or if that would only make things worse. That you’d then become confused as to why he was here and then left. 

Selfishness got you here. 

Rex holds out a little piece of chocolate. 

You open your mouth. Rex places the little piece on your tongue. Your lips accidentally kiss against his fingers. 

Rex watches as your eyes focus in on him. As the chocolate dissolves and your eyes widen. 

“We know each other,” you say, definitively. “How do we know each other?” 

Swallowing, Rex leans forwards. Takes your hand in his. “I’m Rex.” 

“He’s busy,” you whisper. 

Rex takes off his dog tags and places them in your hands. “I’m here.” 

You hesitate to take your eyes away from his own. They flit down to look at the tags in your hands, thumb smoothing over the raised lettering. Glancing up at Rex, you swallow thickly. 

“Rex?” 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Rex says gently. “There you are.” 

“You look different. From your message.” 

The little hologram that you watch sometimes, when you’re a little more lucid. Of Rex telling you that he loves you. Of how you met, in a salsa bar he stumbled upon. That he misses you. 

Rex chuckles, running a hand over his scruff. His not all blonde, specs of white peeing through. “I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes go a little distant again. Your fingers trail over his palm, as if you were going to read his lines. Instead, you set the dog tags back into his hands. 

“I love him a lot,” you say. “And he loves me too.” 

“Yeah,” Rex agrees with you. “He does. Have you been on a walk recently?” 

“I went… Swimming.” 

“Would you like to go on a walk with me? With Rex?” He asks. “The sun’s going to set soon.” 

“The sun is setting?” 

“The sun is setting.” 

“I would like to see it,” you say. 

Guilt claws at Rex’s throat as he helps you up, as he helps you get into your shoes. Gone are the high heels, now you have slippers. The two of you walk slowly, as you need time to process all the little bits and pieces of the journey. The cobblestone and the wood, the flora and fauna. You climb upwards, through the swirling paths. 

It’ll tire you out, but he’ll carry you back if he needs to. You hold onto his bicep for stability. It used to be that you’d hold onto him for any and every reason, giggling the entire way. 

At the little look out, the two of you sit on a wooden bench. Your thighs touch. There are a few other people here, ready to watch the sun’s descent as well. 

“Rex hasn’t been back in a while,” you murmur, playing with the hem of your sweater while looking up at the sky. The sun is setting, stretching ochre across the skies, touching the horizon. 

“I’m back right now,” Rex says, reaching to take your nervous hand in his. “I’m here right now.” 

You look over at him. Nodding a few times, you rest your head on his shoulder. “You’re here right now.” 

Rex’s breath is shaky. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

You don’t watch the sun set. Instead, your eyes droop shut, comforted by the body next to you. When you drift off, it’s peaceful. Rex smells like home. 

Rex knows he should make you walk home. The ambulation is good for you. But you look so content, so like your old, healthy self that he can’t bear to wake you. Doesn’t want to risk confusing you upon waking you up. 

So once the sun has set completely, Rex scoops you up. He carries you back to the place you call home now, and tucks you into bed. 

He places a risky kiss to your forehead. In your sleep, you smile softly. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Rex whispers. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You don’t stir. Rex exhales. 

He doubts you’ll remember this come morning. So he sits at your bedside, hand in yours, and watches over you. Like he should have been, all those years ago when you were snatched from your bed in the cloak of night.

[ag3ntl3vi]

Kenma Kozume X Male Reader | “Fighter” | ☁️

I wrote this out of boredom at like, 3AM. 

Word count: 2,345

Trigger Warning: Fighting, cursing, blood. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Such bullshit, you thought as a group of violent alphas glared up at you. You clicked your tongue, swinging your prized metal bat off your shoulders, slapping it loudly against your palm. 

"You're such a nuisance," you grumbled.

"Us?! You're the one spreading their pheromones like a whore!" The self-proclaimed 'leader' spat, venom lacing his words. You rolled your eyes, moving your body into a fighting stance. 

"Yeah? But aren't you the shitbag who touched that omega chick without consent?" You lowly growled. The alpha faltered, giving you your answer, before snapping back to reality. "She asked for it! Practically begged! Her scent-!"

"Her scent, what?" You took menacing steps forward, pushing your bat under his chin aggressively. You were relatively tall which made you intimidating along with your mean features but you weren't feared enough to be spared violence due to your second gender, and Omega. You could easily be mistaken for a powerful Alpha from afar. 

You were born with slanted, glaring eyes and a harsh resting bitch face, so you could understand why people tended to avoid you at first glance. 

Your eyes glared with pent up rage as you lifted your bat above your head and brought it down on the shitty alphas shoulder. 

A sickening crack echoed through the empty alleyway, the alpha gasping in pain before another blow from your knee slammed into his chin. He stumbled back onto his ass, gripping his shoulder pathetically.

"Your scent is disgusting," You grimaced, waving your hand in front of your nose.

"Get them, idiots!" He whined loudly. His goons charged you a second later. Swiftly, you dunked under one's metal pipe, kicking his gut and pushing him off his feet. You dropped to the concrete and quickly knocked another's ankles from under him, swinging your bat over your head (hitting someone's chin in the process), and bounced it hard against his soft belly. 

You rolled over but was forced back by a shoe to your cheek. You hissed, looking up before having your silky locks fisted and your face smashed into a hard kneecap. You gasped as blood oozed from your nose.

You forcefully shook off the pain and grabbed your offender's wrist and with a burst of short-lived power, swung him over your head and knocking him out cold against the hard floor. 

You laid there for a hot second, staring up at the baby blue sky. There weren't any clouds, you noticed sadly. 

You were tempted to fall asleep but you were sure when the sad excuses of alphas woke it wouldn't be pleasant for you. 

You knew the scene looked horrible to an unknowing eye, but you couldn't bring yourself to give a single shit. 

You sighed and picked your slightly bloodied weapon up to lazily toss it over your shoulders, walking to the entrance of the alleyway. 

Though, surprisingly, you had bumped into someone. It wasn't your fault you couldn't see him, you had the worst vision. You furrowed your brows internally, you needed to see an eye doctor soon.

The guy you bumped into bristled like a startled cat, taking a short step back as he clutched his Nintendo DS close to his chest. You glared down at him. 

"Ah... Sorry," He muttered, lowering his eyes to the ground. He glanced down the alley at the sound of a pained moan. 

You scowled at the noise, releasing a loud sigh through your nose. 

"No, sorry. I wasn't paying attention." You quietly said. Kenma nodded slowly, looking back to his gaming device, not caring too much about the very obvious fight that had just ensued. 

"You play Animal Crossing?" You asked, recognizing the soft music instantly. 

Though shocked a guy like you knew the game, Kenma nodded again.

"Cool, me too. Give me your name," You said smoothly, though internally you were ecstatic someone else played the game.

That's how you met the pudding haired boy. After exchanging your contact information, you went your separate ways.

You texted Kenma first.

To: Kenma

From: (Y/n)

I want to play COD. Do you have it?"

To: (Y/n)

From: Kenma 

yeah. whats your gamertag?

To: Kenma

From: (Y/n)

DyNaMiTe.

Don't ask.

To: (Y/n)

From: Kenma

I won't. 

Let's play.

To: Kenma

From: (Y/n)

Oh, btw, do you have a mic?

After adding your new friend on the Playstation, you connected to a call and played several rounds of COD before you got bored of slaughtering random enemies. 

"Let's play Mario Kart," You stated. 

"Okay," Came Kenma's short answer. 

You ended up playing until sunrise. You had to admit, the bloodshot eyes and sore muscles were worth it. Kenma was a surprisingly good player and you could say with confidence he was now a gamer buddy. 

More time passed since you met the setter, but he knew deep down it was only a matter of time before he was forced to introduce you to his childhood friend. As of now, he was thankful he told him very little about his newfound friend.

The more you hung out with Kenma at school the more open he became, giving you longer answers rather than his short, to the point ones. Sometimes he'd call you randomly at night requesting you play Animal Crossing with him and everyone else had gone to sleep. 

It was a lie. Kenma didn't have any other friends, but he wouldn't admit that anytime soon. He had to go when a loud voice called for him to get his ass to bed, though you weren't sure who it was. Maybe his dad? But he sounded young. You shrugged it off, it wasn't your business anyway. 

A week later you and Kenma sat on the roof of the school. You took a large bite out of a thick sandwich layered with meat and cheese. Kenma favored a neat bento his mother made him the night before. Occasionally, you'd glance at his teriyaki and whine. It took a while but the blonde finally gave in, holding a ball of meat in between his chopsticks towards you. 

"You wanted one, right?" He muttered, avoiding eye contact. You grinned and sloppily took it from him, thanking him as you chewed. Kenma grimaced and wiped at the corner of your mouth with a napkin. 

"Don't talk with your mouth full, idiot.." He whispered.

Aw, look! He's being nice~ Your inner Omega swooned. You pushed down a blush, though Kenma could've sworn he saw a thin layer of pink dusting your cheeks, though he couldn't tell due to a large bruise. He brushed it off. 

More time passe. As the days increased so did the bruises, cuts, and even a few stitches. Kenma had noticed you being pulled out of class through the window of his classroom but never really questioned it, assuming you were skipping with your friends.

He couldn't have been more wrong. 

"You're fucking joking," You muttered, staring at that shitty alpha from a few months ago standing in front of your classroom. He had innocently claimed his teacher needed to talk to you, something about your grandma's passing or some bullshit excuse. Your grandmother had been dead for three years. 

"Come along now, (Y/n)," He whimpered sadly, patting your shoulder. "You wouldn't want anything bad happening to your little blonde pal, would you?" He whispered dangerously in your ear. You allowed him to lead you out of the classroom.

You glared, growling. "You're bluffing," You accused, crossing your arms across your chest. 

He raised a brow. "Am I? I have a buddy in his classroom, all I have to do is get him to bring your pal out. He doesn't look like a very strong alpha..." he trailed off, a sick grin pulling at his cheeks.

You cursed under your breath, an image of Kenma's small, shy smile crossing your mind. No way in hell would you let this dickbag of an alpha touch what's yours.

Mine.  Your Omega growled loudly. 

 Ours, You thought back. 

You would protect him all you could.

After school Kenma went to volleyball practice, per normal, but you weren't waiting for him when he left his classroom. Normally you would pick him up and walk him to the gym then wait on the side of the gates where Kenma would make up an excuse to walk home with you instead of Kuroo. 

He furrowed his brows, confused. He checked the bathrooms on his way to the gym, not seeing you. Did you get sick? He made a quick stop at the nurse's office, asking if you had gone home. She shook her head, claiming nobody had gone home today. 

As nervous as he was, he made his way to the volleyball court, changing into his proper shoes. As little as he normally played, he couldn't get his mind off you. He had a sinking feeling something was very wrong. 

As much as he didn't want to admit it, he had started to develop feelings for the taller Omega. He had denied it for a while, but he had soon come to terms with it. What was the point in acting like they weren't there? It would be there anyway. He couldn't act like his heart didn't start to pound in his chest every time he saw you or how worried and protective he felt when he saw a new bruise or cut on your body.  He felt butterflies when you laughed at your victories in first-person shooter games or that childish grin you got when he caved and let you have his teriyaki at lunch. 

"Kenma!" Kuroo called, jogging over. Kenma hummed, looking up at the raven. 

"Are you alright? You're more out of it than usual," Kuroo asked, his brows knitting together worriedly. The blonde bit his lip, looking down, to the left and right before meeting his gaze again. 

"You.. Know that guy I told you about?" He muttered.

Kuroo raised his eyebrows. "The one you're madly in love-" Kenma yelped, slapping his hands over his mouth quickly, his face exploding into a red blush. "Sh!" he hissed. 

Kuroo smirked behind his friend's hands, giving them a wet lick. Kenma gagged, jerking his hands away and wiping them violently on the rooster haired male's black shirt. "Gross..." He whined.

Kruoo laughed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know the guy. What bout him?" 

The setter sighed, voicing his concern. "He wasn't here today to get me," He started. "He didn't text me he was leaving and it looks like he's getting.. hurt more often." His voice dipped into a whisper as worries and anxieties flooded his brain. Something wasn't right, he just knew it.

Kuroo hummed, tapping his finger on his chin. "Have you asked him?" Kenma shook his head. "You should," Kuroo gave him a long stare. "I don't see why you haven't." 

Kenma opened his mouth, then closed it. "I don't know." He said. "Somethings wrong," He looked down, shuffling his feet. "Really wrong. With him."

An overbearing scent caught his attention. Faintly he smelt the omega's natural scent, pine, and fresh campfire. 

"Find him," Kuroo smiled. "I think there's something between you two, more than a bro-bro relationship." He teased. Kenma blushed, wasting no time in changing into his outdoor shoes and Volleyball jacket before he bolted out the door. He zipped the red jacket up to his chin and smelt the cold air, searching for his crush's scent.

He ran to the gates of the school and made his way to the empty park. It was concealed by the thick forest and thicket, but the unmistakable smell of him. 

He pushed through the thorns and sniffed the air. His smell was strong, he was close. A heavy feeling of anxiety and excitement settled in the pit of his stomach as he broke through the bushes. 

Kenma's golden eyes caught sight of a figure hunched over in a swing and he jogged over.

"(Y/n)?" He asked. You flinched at his voice, as comforting as it may have been to you, you lowered your head, your hair blocking your face.

Kenma's nose picked up on a dreadful, and disgusting scent. Blood.

"(Y/n), what happened?" He lowered himself to the dirt, looking under your bangs. "Please, look at me.." he muttered, reaching up to brush the hair away from your face.

You sniffed and looked up, tears brimming your narrowed eyes as blood dribbled down your face from a large cut across your temple, your nose, and busted lip. Your knuckles were a bright red, dotting with blood. A tear slid down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped it away, jerking your head aside.

"It's nothing," You growled. Kenma narrowed his eyes, standing up.

"It's not." He said. 

"It's nothing, Kenma." You whispered, smearing the blood across your face when you rubbed your sore nose. "Just a stupid fight." 

"(Y/n), talk to me," Kenma muttered, glaring down at your hunched form. "I can't help if you don't fucking talk to me, you know." You winced at the harsh curse. The shorter one didn't cuss often, only at games when he lost a hard round or when he was pissed. 

"I said it's nothing, drop it." You hissed, your (e/c) orbs piercing into his honey eyes. He held your stare sternly. 

You caved. 

"Someone threatened to hurt you if they didn't get revenge. They wanted a punching bag for a while. In exchange, they'd leave you alone. Satisfied?" You huffed childishly.

Kenma gaped at you. 

Had you really gone and got yourself beat to a pathetic lump all so he was spared a little pushing around? 

When he didn't answer you took a breath. 

"I'd rather be a human punching bag than allow the guy I love to get hurt," You grumbled, holding your breath. Yeah, fuck you, you knew what you were saying. You were low enough and if the setter didn't return your feelings the internally bruising would heal with your external cuts. 

"The guy you love?" Kenma whispered. "You... Love me?" he stared at you, slightly wide-eyed. You nodded stiffly. 

"Me too."

----------------------------------