#but at the same time…I feel like I should’ve taken a longer more proper break

[seokshinedk]

Trying to remember that I am still only starting out my career as a new clinician, & that everyone needs to start somewhere🫠🫠

[zodiyack]

In Regards Of My Ex

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst

Words: 2,125

Summary: Niklaus believes deceitful gossip from Aurora De Martel about his wife and takes his anger out on her. As a result, Y/n leaves and finds comfort with Cami and Davina, who call in backup to confront the big bad hybrid about his big bad dumbassery.

Note: I’ve been in a fluffy mood as of recently HOWEVER this idea was sparked when I was feeling angsty™ so...sorry but also not sorry?

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @simonsbluee​, @darling-i-read-it​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @dpaccione​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

“That wife of yours has been sneaking around with my brother. Breaking more hearts than just yours from what I can see.”

“I suppose some people just can’t see the worthiness of the king in front of them. If I were your wife, I wouldn’t be like Y/n. I’d be committed you and never give you fib tales like her.”

“You are aware that Y/n has been plotting something nefarious against you, aren’t you?”

“I know you wanted to marry someone just as sinister as you, but perhaps you should’ve checked where her loyalty lied before tying that knot.”

Aurora fed him stories such as these, and many more, each conclusion of the lies spewing from her mouth something appalling about Y/n. At first, Klaus didn’t listen, but as her stories grew worse and worse, the faux feeling of treachery intensified. He knew it was unwise to believe anything that came from the spiteful, jealous woman...yet, his distress caused pain to strike his heart and he yearned to know the truth.

Although, in this case, the “truth” wasn’t actually very truthful.

She often told him things like that Lucien was going after his girl for the second time, first with her when she had her chance and now, his beloved wife. Klaus merely brushed it off with an honest “he tries and I’ll stake him first chance I get”. However, Aurora wasn’t finished yet. She continued to lie and deceive Niklaus about the woman who she accused of replacing her in his life. The envy and loathing Aurora felt for Y/n was her motivator, but the woman was too far up a wall to need one in the first place.

“Are you telling me the truth?” He growled, keeping his eyes trained at the wall in front of them.

“Why do you ask?”

“I need to know I can trust your bold claims. So answer me, Aurora, are you telling me the truth?”

That smug little grin, masking her deluding ways. “Of course, Nik. I would never lie to you.” Her welcome into his trust was unsurprisingly taken advantage of  when she traced her finger down his arm and then brought her hand up his abdomen slowly. Klaus shoved her invasive hand off of his chest though, giving her a warning glare.

“Thank you for informing me.” That was all he said to her before he made his way out of the room in the most hurry she’d ever seen him in.

Aurora smiled conceitedly. Her plans were on the right track. Whilst Nik didn’t have the same feelings for her now as he did way back during the beginning of their story, but Aurora was determined to stir those feelings from the dead as vampirism did him and her.

She drawled under her breath, “I will have you again, Nik.” her mischievous smile grew wider, “I will have you again, and nothing can stop me this time.”

“Blasphemy!” Niklaus shouted, veins popping out from the rage coursing in his system. He neared Y/n again, the slight fear in her eyes drawing a pause for a second, guilt stilling him, but his anger took the reigns once more.

“It’s not blasphemy! I would never lie to you!”

“The falsity of your deception proves otherwise, love.” He smirked, raising his brows as to question if she would battle his words yet again. Proof was what he needed, but his vexation had drowned out all logic, including his ability to see the proof he wanted so desperately.

“What deception? What falsehood do you believe to have come from my mouth? When I married you, I vowed to be truthful and loyal. You of all people on this fucking earth should know I always keep a vow.” She narrowed her eyes at him. The betrayal he thought he felt was temporary and fabricated, but hers was 100% genuine and seething within her.

“You say that but if you were indeed an untrue person, your answer would be no different.”

“Why do you insist on proving me a traitor!? What has pushed you so far past your breaking point that you actually accuse me, your wife, as a viper?”

“Don’t you pretend like you don’t know the malicious schemes you’ve plotted against me or the affairs you’ve had with men who obviously aren’t your husband!” He couldn’t stop himself now; “I’ve loved you for centuries and you decide to be disloyal and ill-natured?!”

“Says who?!”

“Says Aurora!” After the words flew from his mouth, a tiny part of him realized just how fucked up it sounded. Just how fucked up it was that he believed her over his wife, but the hybrid was stubborn. He was too stubborn to change his belief or admit his fallacious accusations were unjust without proper evidence.

Y/n knew Aurora and Klaus’ story. Her knowledge of the ancient and long forgotten tale made her reaction thousands of times worse. “Aurora? ...Huh. You choose to believe her- that manipulative, lying bitch, over me? I thought you knew me better than that.” She wiped away a rebellious tear, “I thought I knew you better than that.”

Disappointment hung heavy on her features, drawing a feeling of shame from Klaus. Y/n glared at him one last time, her knitted brows and vaguely teary eyes evidence of the heavy-heartedness that overwhelmed her. She bit the inside of her mouth and shook her head disapprovingly before turning and walking out the front gate-doors of the Mikaelson mansion. Klaus was alone.

The sounds of Davina’s giggles echoed, Cami sitting in front of her and chuckling heartfully as well. Their laughter died off when they noticed Y/n sulking through the front doors of Rousseau's. The place was empty aside from the two women having drinks and a friendly chat. Then Y/n entered and found a seat. The atmosphere, once cheery, suddenly felt melancholy.

“Hey, Y/n, you alright?” Camille’s smile was wiped from her lips. She felt empathy for Klaus’ wife and, as a friendly person in general, she felt overcome with the need to help solve the complication that made her feel so down in the dumps.

“I’m-” She was ready to say fine, Davina and Cami knew it, but she broke down in tears before she could even shape an “o” with her lips. Both women jumped up immediately and sat in the seats beside Y/n. Though Davina couldn’t stand Klaus, she actually liked Y/n and seeing her hurt sent searing pain into her own heart.

“It’s okay, hun,” Cami wrapped an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, her other hand rubbing her other shoulder and arm comfortingly, “take as long as you need, there’s no pressure, no rush, none of that. We’ve got you.”

And so they did. The two women took turns holding Y/n as she cried, and before long, she was ready to talk. She explained Klaus’ anger and the source of their fight, the source of the fake news he’d lashed out because of. Davina and Cami shared a glance when Aurora was mentioned, both women already hating her but equally despising her even more now. Y/n sobbed, crying into Cami’s shoulder about wanting Klaus to just believe her. She said she loved him and because of that, she felt pained by his lack of belief in her.

“He’s not worth it if he can’t see how wrong that decision was-”

“I know, but he’s my husband. I vowed to love him always and forever, to never leave his side, and I intend to keep that vow...so long as he doesn’t do anything to fuck it up any more than he already has.”

The sun began to sink into the dark, not fully quite yet, but still creating it’s beautiful array of colors as a final act before disappearing for the night. About halfway through Y/n’s rant, Cami called Hayley and gave her a summary of what she knew so far. A promise of arriving as soon as she could was returned on Hayley’s end before the line went dead and Cami returned to the table.

Still not entirely after sunset yet, Hayley swung open the door to Rousseau's, catching Davina and Y/n off guard. Despite being the one who called her, Cami stayed seated. Y/n and the witch beside her exchanged confused expressions.

“Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna tell me what the hell I need to do to Klaus?”

Y/n chuckled softly, wiping away more of the salty tears, before standing and walking over to Hayley, greeting her with a hug. “You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to-”

“No, trust me, I have to and I want to.” She pulled away and dropped her warm smile, giving Y/n the most serious look she could muster. And as she was Hayley Marshall, it was effortlessly pretty fucking serious. “Now, I want you tell me everything,” the mom voice came out to play, “don’t leave a single detail out. Then, we can discuss what we’re going to do about it.”

“Where is he?”

Rebekah had been informed by the pissed off werewolf and bartender everything that had happened, resulting in her becoming equally upset. She welcomed Hayley inside the gates and nodded her head up the stairs. “I haven’t said anything to him, so you’ll be lucky enough to catch him by surprise.”

The werewolf nodded in understanding before pacing toward the stairs irritability. “Thanks.”

“Make it hurt!” Rebekah’s voice faded away as she walked out the gates, leaving Hayley alone to find Niklaus.

Atop the stairs, she found no sign of anyone whatsoever, but that was only on the outside. If Klaus happened to be inside on of the many rooms, she wouldn’t waste her time searching. Instead, she waited, leaning against the railing and doing a breathing exercise Y/n taught her during one lonely full-moon. 

After minutes of waiting, Klaus finally walked out of a door and started for the stairs. It wasn’t longer than a minute before he stopped in his tracks and realized he’d missed something. He shot a double take in Hayley’s direction, a puzzled expression quickly finding way to his face. It seemed as though he was contemplating whether or not her unexpected appearance was a good thing or a bad thing.

When he seemingly couldn’t make up his mind, staring a few minutes longer, a heavy sigh left her mouth. She was ticked off with him before, but after hearing everything Y/n had to say, she was furious. No, more than furious. The blood boiling rage was incessantly pounding in her head, all she wanted was cause destruction and pain. A rare thing for her.

But now was not the time to lash out, not yet. She inhaled and exhaled, Hayley shifted on her feet and looked around before turning her head to Klaus and beckoned him over to her with a come-hither motion of her index finger.

“What is it?”

She looked at him, flabbergasted that he’d even ask a question as stupid as that, “What is it? What is it, Klaus?” Hayley slapped him, the man doubling back and blinking in astonishment. And not the good kind.

“How dare you lay your hands on me, you-”

“So you’re gonna yell at me now?” She crossed her arms, and unimpressed look resting upon her face. “You know, personally, I think Y/n is better off without you but she’s broken and has been bawling her eyes out nonstop for hours on end, drinking away all the pain that you’ve formed into a stake and shoved into her chest.”

He stopped, fury fleeing his face as he experienced what felt like her words body-slamming into him.

“And guess who’s been there to pick out the splinters?” She poked her finger against her chest over and over again. “Me!” Her eyes never left his, telling him just how sincere about this she really was. “Me! Cami- even Davina!” Hayley threw her hands in the air, emphasizing the shock that came with the information. “Rebekah’s on her way over now, and I’m sure Elijah will see to it that he comforts his sister-in-law as much as he can, but you?”

“I-”

She cut him off, temper still unquenched, thirsty for vengeance. “Let me finish.” She growled. Hayley looked around the room in attempt to calm herself, but it was to no avail.

“You got her into this mess. I just hope you get both of you guys out of it.” She flicked her eyes back to his, giving him her infamous dead eyed glare. “I really hope you do. And you better do it soon. Because I won’t be there to pick the splinters out for you when she realizes she doesn’t need your sorry ass.”

[hercleverboy]

razljubit

spencer reid x fem! reader

summary ↠ reader and spencer come to terms with the fact that they’ve fallen out of love. 

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ arguing, slight hints to sex, falling out of love, a lot of crying

word count ↠ 3.8k

↠ so this is my submission for @railmereid ‘s writing challenge using the prompt “Do you think we could pretend?”. as soon as I saw the prompt I got the idea for this and figured i’d participate! thanks for reading! 

“Never feel guilty for starting again.” — Rupi Kaur

Razljubit is the Russian word for the sentimental feeling you have for somone you once loved, but no longer do.

It’s a funny thing, Love. It’s been written about in countless poems, sung about in millions of songs. They tell you about how people can cheat and lie and hurt the people they were supposed to love in the most heart-breaking ways. 

But they never sing or write about the most painful scenario. 

When two people fall out of love with one another, there isn’t always a reason.

That can sometimes make it worse, the fact that it’s no one’s fault.

Because wouldn’t it just be so much easier if there was someone to blame? Someone to scream and cry and lash out at? Wouldn’t it be easier if one of them had cheated, or spewed words of venom in an argument that they could never take back? 

That’s what made it so difficult. There was no blame, no fault. Just a love now lost. 

For the last four years, Spencer and Y/N had spent near enough every waking moment together. Being with one another was all they knew and it’s all they wanted to know for the rest of their lives. 

There were countless museum trips and blushing giggles exchanged over the tops of coffee cups. With every early morning and every late night, they knew that this had to be forever. This had to be it for them. 

When Y/N met Spencer’s mother, it was one of the happiest days of his life. Diana had been having a good day, so Spencer had called up his girlfriend and asked if she’d wanted to finally meet his mother. Of course, she’d been ecstatic that he wanted to share this part of his life with her, as they’d only been dating for six months or so. Immediately, Diana fell in love with her. They spent the entire day talking, with Diana happily showing off pictures from Spencer’s youth from her scrapbook. Once it was time to go, his mother had pulled Y/N into a hug, telling her how thankful she was that she had taken good care of her son. Y/N moved to stand by the door to give Spencer the space to bid his mother goodbye. When Diana pulled her son into her arms, she whispered into his ear the words he’d never forget. “She’s the one, Spencer. Don’t you ever let her go.”

It was only a few weeks after that that Y/N finally met Spencer’s team. They’d quickly figured out that he had a girlfriend, though he’d expressed how he wanted to wait until he was ready to introduce her, and the team didn’t push him. Though, when they met her, they fell in love with her too. Y/N was just that kind of person, magnetic, passionate. To be near her was to love her. The first time they met Y/N, they’d gone to their usual bar for drinks after work, and Spencer had decided that he was ready to introduce his beloved to the team. Sometime later, Y/N excused herself to the toilet. Spencer had turned nervously toward his team, waiting for their impressions. Morgan spoke first, “Pretty Ricky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were wrapped around her finger.” Emily had chimed in with, “Yeah, Reid. You better marry that girl before someone else does.” Garcia had been the last to speak, already four fruity cocktails in. She’d grasped Spencer by his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “Okay so Y/N is my new best friend now. You better not break her heart, you hear me?” She’d slurred, to which Spencer had chuckled. “I won’t, Garcia. Not to her. Never her.”

They would dance together in the early hours of the morning, when sleep was so close yet so far out of their reach. The sound of Elvis Presley’s ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’ would quietly play from the record player in the living room, the pair swaying together to the soft beat. They didn’t exchange much conversation, simply just basking in one another’s warmth, enjoying the feel of being in each other’s arms. Spencer would hold her tightly to his chest, rest his head on top of hers. It was simply bliss. 

After spending hours between the sheets, they’d stay up together, his arms around her and her head resting on his chest as she absentmindedly drew shapes across his skin. They’d giggle over silly things, talk about their future; marriage, buying a house that would become their forever home, raising a family together. “I like talking about this. With you.” He’d whisper, looking up at the ceiling. “You do? Why?” She’d question. “Because it grounds me. Reminds me that with all the horrific things I see on a daily basis, there’s still good in this world. There’s still purity in the form of children, happiness and kindness and love —” He’d paused, reaching down to grab one of her hands in his. “It reminds me that this — this is the life I’m fighting for. The chance to come home to you, our kids, and know that everything I do is making the world just that little bit safer for the people I love.” He’d smiled. “If I can do that,” He’d grinned, “then it will have been a pretty good life.” 

Their relationship was great, brilliant even, for the most part. Though, some nights were worse than others. “You’re never here!” She’d exclaim, pain in her voice. He’d scoff, crossing his arms as he got defensive like he usually did. “You knew that would be the case when we got together four years ago! Why is it suddenly a problem now?” “Because how are we supposed to build a life together, have a family, if you’re always halfway across the country? Too busy to even call me and tell me you’re still alive!” She’d spit, venom in her words that burned his skin like acid. “Oh, I’m sorry that the serial killer we were hunting down couldn’t spare five minutes for me to give you a call. Perhaps I should ask them next time!” 

Eventually, after the dust had settled and with the weight of the words exchanged between them, they’d apologise. “I’m sorry. I know I’m gone a lot and I know it’s tough on you, I should’ve been more considerate.” “No, no. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I love you.” “I love you too.”

No matter how vicious their fights could be sometimes, they always came from a place of worry. After all, the arguments weren’t the reason they fell out of love. 

And for a long time, this life fulfilled them both. 

Until the day came that it didn’t. 

They’d been together for so many years that all they knew was one another. Y/N was Spencer’s first proper relationship. She’d taught him how to love, how it felt to be loved in return. For four years they knew nothing but waking up together, falling asleep together. They spent so long on late night phone calls when Spencer was away on a case, spent countless mornings in bed just relaying ‘I love you’s over and over. They were both young, in love with the idea of love. 

They spent so long being in love that it took them some time to recognise when they’d fallen out of it. 

Once they both hit that realisation, however, the relationship didn’t end. Not yet anyway. They both danced around the topic, refusing to accept what they knew to be true. Their mornings were no longer full of loving kisses and gentle touches. Instead, a simple forced smile and awkward laugh with a small “have a good day” as Spencer headed off to work. He’d come home, and they’d eat together in silence. Then she’d go and busy herself with cleaning up while Spencer resumed reading or researching. When bedtime came, he’d lean over and plant a single kiss on her forehead before shuffling further onto his side of the mattress and turning away from her, and she would do the same.

When he was away for cases, he texted sometimes so she at least knew he was still alive. However, gone were the nights spent on the phone, him in his hotel room whispering in a hushed tone how badly he missed her. No more early morning texts that exclaimed his excitement at coming home.

And after months of dancing around the ashes of a love that once burned so bright, it finally came to a head. They could no longer deny the inevitable. 

They’d simply fallen out of love.

Each of them berated themselves for allowing this to continue on for so long. really, they were both just afraid of what life would be like without one another. It would be like starting back at square one. They’d had their whole lives mapped out ahead of them, and they just simply didn’t know what the future held for them, if not each other. 

This was the girl Spencer had been so sure he’d marry. Now she was going to become a complete stranger. 

That was something else that worried them both. Would they be friends after this? Even if things hadn’t worked out for them, would it hurt to see one of them find someone else? Start a life with someone that in a different universe, could’ve been them? Would the reminder of the future they could’ve had together if things had been different painfully jab at them each time they saw one another?

One evening, they stood together in the small kitchen after dinner. They were silent, (conversation didn’t flow like it used to before) and Y/N busied herself with washing the plates. The only interaction the pair had was when Y/N’s fingers would brush Spencer’s as she passed him the plates so he could dry them and place them in the cabinets. Both of their hearts sank at the lack of a spark as their fingertips touched. They felt nothing. 

The only thing to break the silence was the sound of the tap running, and when Y/N had washed the final plate and passed it to Spencer, she turned off the running stream and let the silence that had suffocated the couple for months resume. 

She stood for a moment, as did he. For the first time in months, neither one left the room. With a deep breath, she turned around to face him, her hands reaching behind her to hold the counter in a grip she was sure she would need to survive this painful conversation. 

***

The day that Spencer realised was two months ago. 

He and the team had been away on a case, and they’d been gone for an entire week. He had called Y/N once, just to confirm he was on a case and didn’t know when he would be back. No further communication happened between the couple. Oh, how desperately Spencer missed the texts she’d send every day he was away, the phone calls whenever he wasn’t too busy. 

Once the case wrapped up, he realised how he didn’t feel the usual excitement as he boarded the jet to come home. He didn’t text her to tell her he was coming home. He felt guilty. He used to be so animated on the jet home, knowing he was going back to her. It even got to the point where he’d annoy the rest of the team with his constant rambles about how thrilled he was to be going home, how much he’d missed his girl. 

When had that feeling gone away? 

Would it ever come back? 

When they landed back at the BAU, instead of heading straight back home like he used to, like he should’ve, he went and sat as his desk for a full two hours, contemplating everything in his head before finally heading home. On his way out of the bullpen, he ignored the looks of concern he got from Hotch and Rossi. The team knew something was seriously wrong, but no one wanted to be the first to overstep and ask what was going on. Stepping through the doors of the apartment, he registered how it no longer felt like coming home. Despite being in the apartment that the pair had bought together, the home he lived in with the woman he was supposed to be madly in love with, he’d never felt further from home before. 

In fact, he felt nothing. 

It frightened him. 

Of course, at first he denied it. The idea that he was falling out of love with her was ridiculous, right? Perhaps this was just another bump in the road of their relationship, one that they’d overcome and come out the other end stronger than ever before. It truly seemed ridiculous. Not even three months earlier, Spencer had been looking at engagement rings, agonising over which one would be perfect for her. 

But now? That all seemed so far away. Floating just out of his reach. 

He glanced over to the other side of the bed one night, where she laid next to him. 

His eyes raked over her frame, sleeping soundly with her back facing him. His heart broke as the realisation hit him like a train. 

He didn’t love her anymore. 

The day that Y/N realised was two months ago. 

Spencer had gotten the call that there was an urgent case and was scrambling around the apartment to grab his things before he was late. Y/N stood in the kitchen staring at a blank space whilst she held her mug of tea in her hands. Spencer popped his head into the kitchen, gaining her attention. She grinned over at him as he walked toward her. He quickly placed a kiss on her lips, murmuring a small ‘Love you’ before turning and leaving. 

When she heard the apartment door close behind him, she sighed as she set her mug back down on the countertop. She missed the sparks that used to fly between them every time they kissed, how the touch of his lips used to set her body on fire. Butterflies would soar in her stomach, his touch alone making her weak in the knees. Dread filled her as she noticed how kissing him goodbye had begun to feel more like a chore than a declaration of her love. 

She stopped being bothered when he didn’t call her for days while he was away. She used to get pretty upset over it, always paranoid that something bad had happened whenever he didn’t call or text. She wasn’t fazed at how he was coming home hours after she knew the jet had already landed (courtesy of updates from one miss Penelope Garcia.) 

Of course, she still cared for him and worried about him, but she didn’t feel that ache in her chest that she used to, the one that could only be soothed by his presence, his arms around her so that she could feel home. 

She only began to register what had really happened when the only way she could justify not breaking up with him at that moment was by replaying old memories in her head. 

She would fall asleep reliving memories of the first time they met, how beautifully awkward their first date had been, the day he’d asked her to be his— as if the same man wasn’t sleeping centimetres away from her. She was in love with their memories, in love with how happy she’d been for four years, how she thought she’d feel that way forever. She grasped a hold of the warmth that filled her as she remembered the first time he’d kissed her, wanting to cling to that feeling forever. 

But now, she only felt cold. 

In fact, she felt nothing. 

It frightened her. 

She glanced over at him one night as they were sat together on the couch. He was sat at the opposite end, his nose deep in his copy of War and Peace. 

She knew it then, in that moment, as she watched him push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

She didn’t love him anymore. 

***

She gripped the kitchen counter tightly, finally looking up to meet his eyes for the first time in weeks. 

Though, something unexpected happened. (After all, they’d never been the most conventional couple.)

He smiled at her, and she effortlessly gave once back. They were the most genuine smiles they’d worn in what felt like a long time. They continued looking at one another, until Spencer broke into a little chuckle. She began to laugh along with him, both of them snickering at the absurdity of the situation they’d created together. It was one of those situations where if they didn’t laugh, they’d likely cry. 

Their laughter eventually died down; the silence they’d grown accustom to filling the room again. 

Spencer was the first to speak, sighing before clearing his throat. “It’s uh— It’s over, isn’t it?” 

Y/N just nodded sadly. “I’m sorry.” 

She meant it, too. She was sorry for a lot of things. She was sorry for falling out of love with a man who would’ve once given her the world had she have asked for it, sorry for letting them cling to something that had burned out long ago. 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Spencer assured her. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine either. It just— happened.”

Spencer looked at her with an unimaginable sadness in his eyes, also laced with the slightest bit of guilt. He opened his arms, inviting her into a hug. 

She gladly accepted, putting her arms around his waist, and resting her head on his shoulder. His arms came around her, enveloping her in a warmth that she hadn’t felt in so long. 

The feeling made her begin to sob, and Spencer did too, the understanding of what was happening finally hitting them full force. Together they stood in their kitchen, crying on one another’s shoulders. Together, they let go of all the despair they’d been holding onto for so long. 

When they finally pulled back, Spencer pressed a kiss to her forehead, a loving gesture he’d always done to show her how much he cared. 

She gave a weak smile up at him, wiping her cheeks. “I think I’ll always love you, Spencer.”

His voice quivered as he spoke, struggling not to let it get caught in his throat. “I think I’ll always love you too.”

Whilst they were no longer in love, they still loved and cared for one another deeply.

She took a deep breath before moving back a few paces. “Okay then. I’ll um, I’ll grab some of my things and stay with a friend for tonight. Then I can drop by tomorrow and grab the rest of my things.” 

He nodded, feeling an odd mix of relief and grief fill him. Relief, because they finally had let one another go after holding onto something that had faded long ago. And grief, because although the blossoming flowers of their love had withered over the years, they were still a successful couple. They were so very in love once that nothing else had mattered. He grieved for the future they could have had, the children of theirs he would’ve been delighted to raise with her by his side.

But it simply wasn’t meant to be.

Within twenty minutes, Y/N was stood by the door with a suitcase full of her stuff. She looked up at him, an awkwardness settling over them. What were they supposed to say? Was there anything that could be said? 

“I, um, I don’t know what I’ll do without you here.” Spencer whispered out, his voice wavering. It was funny, he thought, that he knew so many words in so many languages and yet he couldn’t find one that encompassed everything he wanted to say. “I mean, I’m not sure I remember what my life was like without you in it.”

“I know.” Y/N whispered back, managing still to give him a smile despite everything. “Me either. But we’ll be okay.” She slowly reached up, her arms coming around him and pulling him into a tight hug. 

He hugged her back, gripping fistfuls of the back of her jumper as though that would be enough to hold them together, to glue back the pieces of a relationship that had long broken apart. 

“Thank you, Spence. For everything you gave me over the last four years. I was so incredibly happy with you.” 

He let out a breath as they pulled apart, a sob escaping his lips no matter how hard he’d tried to hold it back. “I was with you too.”

She nodded with a smile, bending down to grab her suitcase, and reaching for the doorknob. Though she didn’t make it far, as Spencer had reached out his own hand, grasping her arm gently. 

“Wait—“ He started. She frowned, turning to face him again. 

“Do you think we could pretend?” He mumbled, his eyes searching hers. When he caught on to the confusion she held in hers, he elaborated. “Just— just for tonight? Could we pretend that you still love me, and I still love you?” 

She shook her head with a sad smile. “We can’t keep holding on to this, Spence. It’ll do much more harm than good if I stay.” 

He nodded, because he knew that she was right, though his grip on her arm only tightened. “Please. Just stay for tonight. I’ve slept in the same bed with you nearly every night for the last four years. Please, just one last time?” His voice was thick with emotion, begging and pleading. 

How could she refuse him? 

She hesitantly nodded, allowing him to grip her hand and take her towards the bedroom they’d called theirs for so long. They climbed in, her head resting on his chest as his arms wove around her. 

Because even if they weren’t in love anymore, he was still losing her. Even if they weren’t in love anymore, she was still his best friend.

Spencer worried for how they would navigate a friendship after so many years of being more. Though, he pushed the thoughts from his head, and instead focused on the moment. They could worry about everything else in the morning. But for now, he was going to hold the woman he used to love for what he knew would be the last time.

This was not them just falling out of love, it was them letting one another go. It was moving on to better and greater things that awaited them.

As he drifted off into slumber, he reminded himself that you do not walk back through a closed door. You open a new one and continue on your way.

*

permanent taglist: @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @katexrichardson @jemimah-b99 @devilsarchive

spencer reid taglist: @reidtome

[acciofanfics]

Teacher’s Pet (Remus Lupin x Reader) Part 6 SMUT

Summary:  (Y/N) wants to be a professor at Hogwarts. Dumbledore offers her a chance to intern and figure out what she wants to do… hopefully she’ll make it through the year.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x FemReader

Warnings: Age gap, SMUT and language.

A/N: So idk I kinda hate this... idk why 😂 but the overwhelming consensus was smut so TA-DA! - S

———————————————————————

It was almost comical how quickly things had changed between the two. Somethings remained similar, like the playful flirting and the stolen glances were still there... but ever since their kiss, the tension in the air was thick enough that it could be cut with a knife. There just wasn’t enough time or privacy in the day to replicate the circumstances in the few days following. It wasn’t like they were really in the position to entertain a proper label or schedule; Remus flirted with the idea of asking her on a proper date, but that wasn’t exactly practical. Remus didn’t know which was worse: feeling like he hadn’t been permitted to act on his desires or rather knowing how it felt to give in and physically not be able to.

Remus’ lips twitched into a small grin when he saw (Y/N) smile at him from a few pieces of parchment. He watched as discreetly as he could, still trying to give as much attention as he could to the task he had at hand. Honestly, he wondered how (Y/N) was possibly juggling the workload she had... especially recently. He’d often see her running around like a chicken with its head cut off, sprinting from classrooms all over the castle. He’d seen her bring homework assignments with her to dinner and it seemed that in the past week or so the piles were getting bigger. It hadn’t really occurred to the man how much of the time they spent together happened during schooling hours or the occasional walk at night, but he hadn’t seen her outside office hours in what seemed like awhile.

Remus knew he was probably doing this for more selfish reasons. Honestly it was probably more of a chance to get her alone and to himself. An argument could be made that it was to give the struggling young woman a break though. Remus made his way over to her once he had his student working on something that didn’t require his complete attention. Wand movements usually did the trick. In a low voice he simply suggested, “If you’re feeling a little rebellious, meet me on the fourth floor tonight when everyone is in bed.”

Remus hadn’t been able to get any verbal confirmation before being summoned back to his responsibilities, but judging by the mischievous glint in her eyes he had assumed the answer to be a yes. He had very much looked forward to it all day, and he was more than please to see (Y/N) already waiting for him. She smiled sheepishly at him, “Guess I was a little early.”

He didn’t blame her, he would’ve been a bit earlier himself had he not misplaced his wand briefly. Remus chalked it up to feeling like a teenager again with the sneaking out and around, with all of the excitement an old habit of losing his belongings was bubbling up too. “Seems like I was running a bit late. Come on, I have somewhere in mind you might enjoy.”

(Y/N) eagerly followed him to a mirror, and though she didn’t often find herself avoiding mirrors she didn’t know if she’d go as far as to say she enjoyed them. It wasn’t very long at all though that Remus was carefully moving a mirror that revealed a passageway that had been carved out. Once the two had ducked into the clandestine hallway and he had lit up the darkness with the tip of his wand, Remus replaced the mirror. “Whoa! I didn’t know this existed!”

It was common knowledge there were many secret passageways hidden in Hogwarts. The location of which were less known, but if that had been common knowledge too they would no longer be secret. “James and- my friends used to have a knack for finding these things.”

“You all must’ve done quite a bit of sneaking out, huh?” She joked while following the passageway down a little bit.

“A fair share of it sure... though we weren’t supposed to tell anyone.” Remus wasn’t lying, but he knew that on more than one occasion James and Sirius used a few of these passages to impress a pretty girl. He supposed he was just a little late on the trend.

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t. Where does this go?” (Y/N) asked out of pure curiosity, though now that she thought about it, it was probably good practice to know where you were going.

“It comes out right outside of Hogsmeade. Of course that’s a long walk, I know.”

“Well, that’s okay. I feel like I could use a break.” She smiled and began walking with Remus. (Y/N) felt like she’d gotten a good bit better at juggling what had left her so overwhelmed her first week officially working at Hogwarts. However, these past couple of days had been a little hectic and she should’ve 100% been grading those homework assignments McGonagall asked if she could take on, but couldn’t refuse the offer.

Remus quite fond of the walk they shared. He asked about her years at Hogwarts and her family and she inquired the same. He didn’t think he could recall the last occasion he’d really taken the time to get to know someone or had them try and do the same. By the time they reached the end of the passageway, (Y/N) knew that he was an only child and had quite the sweet tooth even as a boy. He knew that conversely she came from quite a large family, but she’d agree that dessert was definitely the best course.

The room they’d arrived in was quite large, but it was obviously that anyone who knew of its location has long abandoned it. It showed no signs of any visitors in probably years. Still, (Y/N) found it to be quite a fun visit. A little dusty sure, but nothing a quick flick of her wand couldn’t fix. “Well, now that we’re here what are your plans?”

“Right...” Remus didn’t think that far ahead, which he would like to say was a bit unusual. Of course the ultimate goal had been to spend alone time with her, but now that was accomplished... “I ought to be better prepared ne-“

She was well aware it was rude to interrupt people, but she she would do it anyways. (Y/N) stood on her toes and grabbed hold of the front of his sweater and yanked Remus down to her level. She thought the act of crashing her lips into his might’ve been a little sexier had she not been so short in comparison. Remus however did not mind one bit hunching down to her level. This thought had definitely crossed his mind, but hadn’t want to be too forward. Now that he thought about it, he should’ve seen it coming. (Y/N) was very forward with what she wanted. Back at the Three Broomsticks she’d commented that she didn’t make the first move, but he supposed that wasn’t entirely true. He wasn’t complaining though. It was quite the opposite as he immediately responded, kissing her back and circling his arm around her.

(Y/N) broke away with a wide grin, “That wasn’t your plan?”

Remus chuckled, and straightened himself out, “No, but I’m always open to suggestions.”

(Y/N) pulled away leaving Remus quite confused. Perhaps she was annoyed it hadn’t been his sole intention to snog the woman. He felt better when she made her way to a wooden table set in the center on the room. He was certain she would sit down but instead she turned to face him. A small moment of hesitation seemed to cross her mind before she spoke, “I hope you wouldn’t think too little of me if I confessed this had been my plan...”

(Y/N) wasn’t lying. She’d desperately been hoping for an uninterrupted moment alone and wanted to be prepared in case she got that moment. Now that she had it well she hoped it wouldn’t be entirely too fast for the man.

Remus watched as she kicked off her shoes. She then pulled her shirt over her head and her pants had been the next article of clothing to follow. The undergarments that had now been exposed to him were quite nice to look at, especially with the model wearing them. The way the lace laid so perfectly against her skin made his heart beat just a tad bit faster and left him staring, or better yet ogling her. He felt a little lame, just standing there. He had hoped, counted on being close to (Y/N). He’d hoped they would’ve had a chance to - This just far exceeded what he’d hoped to accomplish.

It also wouldn’t have been untrue to say he’d been a little out of practice. Not new or naive to the subject, but it definitely wasn’t something he did on the regular. He normally was well aware of the fact it was nothing to be ashamed of, but did feel himself grow a little uncomfortable with the fact as she stood there in front of him. He definitely hoped he wouldn’t disappoint.

Staring was probably a better sign than him getting up and walking away. (Y/N) did wish he’d say something though. She felt so entirely vulnerable and was now a little fearful of rejection... “Too much?”

Her voice snapped Lupin back to reality. Her face showed she was starting to feel uncomfortable, and Remus felt terrible. That had definitely not been his intention. He decided it best if he just shut off his head and led his instincts take over.

In an instant he was in front of her, lifting her into the table bringing her to a much more comfortable height for him. His lips were on hers and if the first kiss had been good, well this one had been amazing. (Y/N)’s confidence quickly regained and excitement took over knowing exactly where this was going. Her legs parted, allowing her the opportunity for Remus to settle between them and her to pull him closer.

Remus’ hands met the bare skin of her thighs and traveled up and down her leg. The skin of his hands was so rough comparatively, but the contrast felt so unfamiliar and welcome. (Y/N) couldn’t help but be hyper aware of everywhere he touched and everywhere she wanted him to do so. Patience was a virtue wearing thin on her at the present moment and she found her hands quickly pulling the cost from his shoulders and working a few buttons on the shirt that he was wearing underneath. She was much too impatient to care enough to rid him of the entire shirt, once a few buttons were undone and it had been untucked she gave up on the task. She favored dipping her hands underneath the fabric, she just wanted to touch. Remus shivered a bit against her fingertips.

(Y/N) abandoned his mouth and trailed her kisses towards his neck. Remus was being absolutely driven mad by the nibbling. A gasp interrupted her and Remus smirked as his fingers carefully brushed against her clothed core. His touch was so light it could’ve almost been construed as an accident, if the knowing look hadn’t completely given him away. Ever the tease, and partially because he was no where near done with her, Remus didn’t give any indication there would be a follow-up. He moved his hand up actually and drug his fingertips lightly across her shoulders and chest, outlining the bra she was wearing. She arched into him, whimpering just a bit; she had no idea Remus Lupin was such a tease and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it. (Y/N) had never been one to beg in the bedroom, of course she’d never really been with anyone taking such time and care; it was usually a heated spur of the moment type of setting (kind of what she expected from this). Still, there was a first time for everything, “Please touch me...”

Really Remus could’ve been content sitting there doing nothing but stand there and egg her on. It would’ve been torture for him too, but listening to the noises she made and feeling her breath quicken under his fingertips would’ve made it worth it. But her plea was too much, and Remus not only felt obligated but he wanted to oblige her request. Reaching behind he unclasped her bra and threw the unnecessary article to the side. He placed a chaste kiss to her lips before getting right to what she wanted.

(Y/N) felt like he was setting his skin on fire, everywhere his skin met hers like a flame had been held to it. Remus’ lips trailed from her neck to her shoulders and finally... her breath hitched when he made it to her breasts. Though she didn’t have much time to think about the way his tongue flicked over her nipple, because almost simultaneously he’d pushed her underwear to the side and his fingers brushed against her again. “Fuck...” She hissed.

Remus used his thumb to rub circles across the bundle of nerves and sank another inside of her, and relished the way her hips bucked against his hand. The way she arched herself into him... Remus couldn’t help but imagine how good how much better it would feel to have his cock buried deep inside her rather than his fingers, especially when he felt her clench around his digit. He didn’t know how much more her could handle, so without a second thought when she asked her obliged, he gladly accommodated.

Remus withdrew his hands from her body and unbuttoned his trousers in record time, and in less than a minute his hardened cock was able to spring out of its confines. (Y/N) watched him almost as intently as he’d watched her. She was much too excited to just stare though. She’d thought about this more than she’d care to admit and after already having a taste of what he could do she jumped to her feet in front of him. (Y/N) had been ready to return the favor (plus a little extra), but even though the idea sounded heavenly Remus just didn’t have the patience.

Given her stature it wasn’t a hard task to turn her around and bend her over the table. Once she’d been fully laid across the table, only the tips of her toes touched the floor. It left her feeling rather small and like she was completely at his mercy, but the vulnerability just seemed to heighten her senses. She let out a low sigh of anticipation when she felt him line himself up with her entrance.

Remus felt a flash of reluctancy... this young woman had seen parts of him that people hadn’t in quite a long time. He didn’t think he could possibly pull himself away from her at this point, but should he try? He didn’t think, no he knew he couldn’t give her what she deserved outside. Her impatience put an end to his internal sabotaging, “Remus, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”

His response she quite enjoyed. A moan left both of their mouths as he entered her. She felt her insides stretching to accommodate the most pleasant of intrusions. Then he pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in earning a cry of approval from the woman beneath him. (Y/N)’s imagination couldn’t compare to the real thing and she hoped she would be able to remember every detail on his hands digging into her hips holding her still and the drag of his cock as he pulled out, or how amazingly full she felt when he slammed back in hitting spots she hadn’t been truly aware of herself.

Remus’ name fell from her lips like a prayer, a praise, a chant and he couldn’t think of a single thing he enjoyed hearing more in that moment. His rhythm was starting to suffer, but he was hanging on her dear life. As soon as he felt her body spasming around him, he let go. Emptying himself inside of her and feeling a joyous release of pleasure and pressure that had been building inside of him.

Remus stayed still for a moment before summoning the strength to pull out. His breath was labored and (Y/N) was also trying to catch her breath. “I think I might need just a moment before that hike back.”

Taglist: @iamabeautifulperson18 @figlia--della--luna @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @idkitsrandxm @marvel-rhapsody @little-bit-of-randomness @nuttybeardetective @siriuslypadfootmc @tugabooos @obx-beach @badedum-badaboom @starlightkell @bepo-is-sorry @hamildork @shadesofbarryallen @lunaqveen @pxstelink @auberosier @harrypotter289 @levylovegood @sapphicnoodle69 @thestunningspell @themostdivisive @pan-pride-12 @lilacskiesandpolaroids @whimsicallymad

[starkskypines]

even if it’s only in my imagination

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: You daydream about Bucky after a run-in in the hall of your shared apartment building. A simple case of wrong timing with the yearning for what could have been. 

warnings: none 

word count: 1.2k

a/n: This was written for day 2 of the Swoon June 2021 prompts: daydream.

***

It’s been a long day at work, and you’re tired and just want to go home, shower, and sleep. So of course that’s the day you have to grab groceries, and it’s raining. Wet and tired, you stalk through the doors of your apartment building, and you thank your luck that the elevators are working. You ride to your floor and try to ignore the way your feet squish in your tennis shoes. You wished you had thought to wear rain boots, but you hadn’t, so you tried to forget the cold wetness in between your toes by focusing on the cold wetness of your hair. You could imagine that you’d gotten out of the shower and were heading to bed where your fluffy blankets waited for you.

The elevator door dings, and you step out and hurry toward your apartment door. You shift the grocery bags as you walk and fumble to get your keys out of your purse. Your eyes are down, so you never saw the hit coming. 

You were lying on the floor in a heaping wet mess before you knew what happened, the contents of your purse and grocery bags strewn across the hall. 

“Oh no. I’m so sorry.” 

You blink up at the voice and see that it belongs to your hottie neighbor. You don’t let yourself groan aloud, but internally you are cursing this day. Of course the hottest guy on the planet had to see you when you were a literal mess. 

“It’s fine,” you say and push to your knees as you go to gather up the items from your purse. 

“No, no, I’m really sorry, doll. I didn’t even see you. I should’ve been watching where I was going.” Bucky bent and began to pick up the items from your grocery bags.

You don’t respond as you finish picking up the remaining items and throwing them back into your purse. You stand, angry at the wet squish your shoes make, at the feeling of hair plastered to your neck, at the way your jeans cling to your legs. Of course, Bucky looks flawless, wearing a button down shirt with a black jacket, and jeans that shouldn’t look that good on a person. You roll your eyes heavenward wishing that you lived any other life. 

You focus back on Bucky as he finishes picking up your groceries, and then he turns back to you with both bags in his hands and a shy boyish smile on his lips. “It was an accident I promise.” 

“Like I thought you purposely ran into me?” you scoff and go to unlock your door. “All’s forgiven if you’ll carry those inside for me.” 

“Of course, doll.” 

Your nose scrunches up as you process the endearment. Bucky looks like a ‘babe’ guy. Not an old fashioned term from what? The thirties? Forties? But then again, he does wear those gloves all the time. You wonder if you’re letting your attraction for the man cloud your judgement of him. With the way today has been going for you, he could be a murderer, and inviting him into your apartment would be a seriously foolish idea. 

You finish unlocking the door with a sigh and hope that Bucky is the decent guy you have him pegged for. 

“Just set them on the table.” You motion to the table that’s on the wall next to the door. 

Bucky sets the bags there. “Again, I’m really sorry.” 

“It’s alright. Thanks for carrying them inside.” 

“Yeah.” He nods and smiles. “Take care.” He stares at you a moment longer, a soft look on his face, and you want to say something, anything, but you know anything that might come out of your mouth right now will not be taken the way you intend. 

Bucky tilts his head into a slow nod. 

“I look forward to seeing you again.” He smiles again, sending flutters through your stomach. 

You shut the door behind him when he leaves. You place your purse on the table and pick up the grocery bags and take them to the kitchen. You can’t help but wonder how different things could’ve been had you run into Bucky on any other day. One where you weren’t soaked to the bone, where your hair looked nice and beautiful, where you weren’t dead tired and one where Bucky didn’t see that you had five frozen dinner meals and one carton of blueberries, one bag of plums, plus another bag of miscellaneous toiletries. 

You set to putting those items away in their proper locations as you allow yourself to think about how tonight’s incident could’ve gone. 

You could’ve been wearing your best jeans, had a nice shirt on, your hair done, your makeup done in a soft romantic look. And Bucky would’ve bumped into you and you would’ve just had your purse and you’d still have gone flying and the contents of your purse would be strewn on the ground, but you wouldn’t be soaking wet. And there would be no plop and squish when you fell. 

And this time you would stay on the floor a moment longer and when Bucky offered his hand to help you to your feet you would take it. And his hand would be warm in yours despite the gloves. And your eyes would meet, his blue eyes staring into you. He’d smile, with that soft one that he’d just bestowed on you briefly, the one that would light up an entire room with it’s warmth. And you’d smile back and he’d say something like, “You look beautiful today. Hope I didn’t ruin that by knocking you over.” 

You’d respond with, “You’re fine, Bucky. No harm done.” And then the two of you would drop to the floor to pick up the items that had fallen out of your purse. He’d smile at you again and ask to make it up to you. “...maybe with dinner?” He’d be shy about asking you out, unsure of himself. And you’d rush to assure him, quickly agreeing and embarrassing yourself with the speed and volume of your “yes.” 

And he’d smile in relief and you’d both stand and stare at each other for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell, and then finally he’d nod. And you’d mirror him. 

And then he’d say, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, seven o’clock.” And you’d respond that you’re looking forward to it and then he’d walk away, and you’d watch him go and when he turned his head over his shoulder he’d catch you and his smile would widen and he’d wave and then he’d be gone. But you’d have the assurance of seeing him again soon.

You close the door to your fridge. Of course, that’s not what happened, and you don’t know when you’ll see Bucky again, despite his casual salutation that he would look forward to seeing you again. That might be true, but he won’t be asking you out after seeing you look like a drowned rat. 

You shake off your daydream and the run-in with Bucky as something that isn’t possible and head to go take a shower. 

You don’t know–because how could you–that Bucky spent the entire elevator ride to the lobby thinking about how he could’ve done things differently, how he could’ve found the courage to ask you out in about a dozen different ways. You don’t know that he’s just as resigned to the impossibility of anything between the two of you and keeps dreams of something more only in his head. Just the same as you do. 

[stilemawillow]

His Eyes and Her Mind [Levi | Reader | High school AU!]

You're slowly browsing through your old Psychology notebook before you pinpoint a sentence that draws your attention. Your reaction is immediate - your lips curl into a condescending smile as you stare at it, highly amused.

'Eyes are a door to one's soul.'

Yeah, as if. You cackle and your boyfriend throws you a strange look from his seat across the table outside the café you're currently at. Honestly, you've never believed this eye to soul connection and there is very little that can change your opinion on the matter.

1. Normal look     Indifference

You walked down the hallway with your best friend Hanji when you saw him. Hanji flipped her brown hair over her shoulder, talking about your Biology lesson, but you could no longer hear her as distinctly. He was walking towards you with his small group of friends - Isabel and Farlan, the girl and boy on both his sides discussing something heatedly as he watched the debate silently.

You were approximately five feet away when he also looked up and saw you. You felt something turn inside you, but it was a daily occurrence around him so you ignored the sign as always and stared into his gunmetal orbs. Your face stayed impassive and so did his as your small groups passed each other down the hallway, but you had to admit you liked the attention he had been giving you recently.

Sure, you'd never really talked, but you'd exchanged plain courtesy and greetings at times when it was inevitably going to happen anyway. You never thought much of it - he was attractive and he was staring at you more than you'd ever seen him stare at anybody, but that was it. It didn't make your heart flutter, your knees wobble or your head spin. It shouldn't have as well.

You just couldn't get his dumb eyes out of your head.

2. Intense stare     Frustration

What's his problem?! You were fucking sure if he kept staring at you like that you were going to get up and slap him at one point. Second term turned out to be your "lucky" one since you now shared three out of seven classes with Levi Ackerman, the one that had been paying you attention since the beginning of the junior school year.

Your brows momentarily furrowed.

Of course, since you'd had only two short-term boyfriends in your life so far and they'd never really paid much attention to you you enjoyed it more than you should've. It still didn't make your knees wobble or your mind fogged up with daydreams of the boy sweeping you off your feet, but you still hadn't even led a proper conversation.

You nervously licked your dry lips.

You were forced to officially meet last month during a project you had to do with three other people, but other than that stiff interaction you'd never even said anything to him and he seemed fine with that. Only recently, however, his attention seemed to have gone to the next level. For a week straight he'd been staring you down like he wanted to come up to you and ask you to willingly give him all your valuable personal belongings.

You got a hand through your hair in frustration.

Today was especially intense for some unknown to you reason, but it was pissing you off since you could feel it and it made you uncomfortable. Did he have some kind of problem with you - your attire, attitude, appearance as a whole? Maybe you pissed him off? Maybe you'd said something wrong? Maybe he was in a bad mood and decided to get it out on you?

A sigh left your lips.

You doubted the last one since Levi always seemed like he was in a bad mood, but you'd never seen him stare at somebody like this just because of that. You didn't know what his stare meant and that pissed you off more than the distracting persistence of his gunmetal hues. You were frustrated up to the point of blowing up any second now - his stare had made you avoid him as a whole less than ten minutes ago.

Your finger started tapping on your notebook impatiently.

The teacher at the front was talking about something you couldn't even pay attention to, Levi's tense orbs were digging holes into your face and the feeling of it was unsettling. So Hanji had been right when she said people could actually feel when they were being watched. You looked up, anything but interested in your work and stared right back into the gunmetal hues of the male across your desk, sharing his best friend's coursebook which had forced him to turn his back to the teacher and his face to you.

You saw his own eyebrow twitch momentarily but his gaze never left yours. You glared hard into his eyes, trying to provoke him, but it was in vain - he didn't react in any way. You tried to read what in the fucking hell had made him this annoyed with you in the first place - could there be any specific reason for his staring?

Your stomach turned again when you saw him get a hand through his silky locks as his eyes left yours. Great, now you were the one staring. Your eyes narrowed and you kept observing him, but he made no effort whatsoever to regain the lost eye contact, which just made you angrier.

Was he trying to make you look like a creep by staring at him? Well, you weren't going to have it.

With a huff, your attention went back to your own coursebook. You could feel his intense stare on your face less than a second after that. To say that you almost broke your pen in half wasn't an understatement.

3. Bashful avoidance     Confusion

He just had to be like that, didn't he? Levi Ackerman, the all mighty, fearless sorta bad boy, sorta nerd. He just had to keep looking at you, giving your desperate being some kind of false hope and a shit ton of mixed signals. And what was worse - he didn't seem to regret it one bit. The worst however was yet to come and it was the unknown. Sometimes it scared you more than your biggest fears.

Fear of heights? Well, this building's last floor may be the fifth or fifty-fifth, wouldn't know with that fog.

Fear of the dark? That room might be lit up by the sun itself, but it could also be pitch black. Wouldn't want to understand which.

Fear of not knowing something? Levi Ackerman might as well tell you he loved or loathed you - you couldn't care less, but the tension of not knowing which of the two it was would break you before his words came out of his mouth.

Of course, the above was just a simple example of the situation at hand, which, in your personal opinion, was way worse. He was staring at you - fine. He made this strange thing happen to your internal organs with his presence - fine. He was charming, strangely kind, attractive, funny, intelligent and somehow generous, and he was paying attention to you of all people - fine. He confused you with his behaviour - not fine.

It had taken him two more days to calm down his intense stare, but he gradually did so and soon enough it was back to how it had always been - exchange of glances along the length of the hallway or up and down the stairs, sometimes even outside during lunch break. You rarely saw him out of school even though he lived in the same neighbourhood as you (which you knew since you regularly took the bus together) which was a relief of kinds. However, his recent behaviour seemed to confuse you more than anything.

First, he paid attention to you. Then, he tried to dig a hole into your face using only his eyes. Next, he stopped staring altogether and instead seemed like he was flirting with some other girl. Sure, she flirted first, but that wasn't much of an excuse. And all of a sudden, he was super friendly with the girl while eyeing you up constantly whenever you saw each other. It confused the fuck out of your mind and you hated not understanding certain things.

Not that you were the best when it came to emotions, socialising and such, but Levi had been remotely easy to read. Well, not now.

He walked into the school building with Farlan, sitting on the bench inside and facing your way (because you and Ymir were sitting on the bench across the room). You had a clear view of his eyes and how they trailed over your face, gently trying to push you to make eye contact with him. You didn't. Not yet anyway. It took you five seconds of a pointless exchange of stupid trivial phrases with Ymir to finally meet his gaze. You'd washed your hair earlier the same morning and combed it as much as you could before going out, so it was not a surprise that Levi noticed that - he always saw the little things.

Under normal circumstances, you'd lock gazes for the overall of ten seconds before either of your friends tore you away from the craved eye contact. This time it was different. Why? Because he looked away in less than a second.

Your brows raised in surprise and you listened to Ymir's story of her and Krista's date with half an ear, nodding occasionally when she would pause. The male's gesture confused you immensely - why did he look away? Was there something wrong with you? Did you not look as good? Of course, the mere fact that the action of his eyes averting from yours made you doubt yourself and grow self-conscious was stupid, but you couldn't help it - he never acted like that and you wanted to know why he did now.

This was where irritation came in. He confused you and you hated being confused, but it was inevitable - his further behaviour only made the issue deepen. The action repeated exactly four times before he and Farlan decided enough was enough and went up the stairs. He would look at you, hold your gaze for less than two seconds and look away as indifferently as possible. There were no changes in his facial expression and you could read nothing in his eyes. You were baffled at that - you were usually the one to look away.

You noticed the nervous tapping of his finger on his knee and the slight twitch of his thin eyebrow, but it wasn't something you considered significant at the time. You should have. Because it was.

4. Piercing glare     Anger

"I told you for the last time - I'm not going out with you, Mark."

Everything was pissing you off - today had started badly and was currently holding a steady pace. You had a pop quiz on your most hated subject so you barely got any sleep. Your mother had broken the coffee machine and your father had refused to fix it so no caffeine for you. And now due to yesterday’s downpoar your muddy shoes made you slip every few seconds.

Also, the constant annoyance bugging at your mind because of Levi's closeness with Petra was wow, what a surprise - annoying. It was troubling you on an emotional level, which was bad because if it was a trivial problem having to do with anything else you'd be in perfect condition to ignore it. Finally, this guy - Mark, who had been hitting on you for the past month suddenly decided to make an appearance during lunch break, block your way to your precious caffeine and ask you out on a date after you'd already refused him approximately five times.

Not to mention, he wasn't from the innocent annoying type - he was from the persistent scary type, where shit could get serious if you got too aggressive yourself. And right now, all you wanted was to get some fucking coffee and go back to class.

"Why, (Y/N)? You don't have a boyfriend." Mark put his hand on the tree which you'd found solace next to up until this moment, turning it into a trap that had just clicked instead. You found his smug strangely irritating today, to the point you could punch him if he tried anything funny.

"I just don't see you in that way, I don't want to waste my time." You retorted, teeth gritting in annoyance before the male decided to stop playing around. There weren't many people around you since the only coffee machine in a mile's radius was pretty far away and most students preferred to spend their time in the little shops around the school building and the cafeteria instead.

"So you're saying I'm a waste of time?" Mark leaned closer to you and his eyebrows furrowed, his pretty face finally showing its true colours. He had dirty blond curly hair and plain brown eyes, he was rather muscular and tall - all things he felt immensely proud of. Despite his face and body, however, he wasn't overly popular - he played sports and loved to hook up with every girl a bit above average, which really brought him down into the eyes of the female population in your school, resulting in some major disapproval coming from the student body.

"I'm saying it will waste our time as a whole, it's useless." You said, trying to ignore the way you wanted to punch him straight in the jaw. Maybe it wouldn't even work, but trying would surely satisfy your inner aggressive side - you just had to imagine you were hitting that stupid girl that was flirting with Levi.

"Not if I say it's not." Mark argued, making you turn your face to the side because of how close he was getting to you.

"Are you threatening me?" You inquired slowly with narrowed eyes. He just laughed at you before smirking down at your face.

"Do you want me to threaten you or will you agree to go out with me willingly?"

"Does that mean if I don't say 'yes' you'll force me?"

"Yes." He looked like the Big Bad Wolf about to have breakfast when he put his other hand on the tree behind you, pinning you between his arms. "When I want something I get it." His expression may have been seductive, but to you it was disgusting - how could such a male survive so long in society when he was this stupid and forceful?

"Didn't know you were a rapist besides being a womanizer." You pointed out, only to have the daylights slapped out of you a second later.

"Shut up!" He should have been thankful there weren't people around, otherwise, somebody would have come and stopped him by now. You guessed you wouldn't be able to have your coffee soon. The slap made your cheek sting and your eyes narrowed in fury. Sure, you couldn't do anything to fight him off except kick him in the nuts, which wouldn't do as much as you'd want it to, but you could sure as hell glare at him all you wanted.

"You're pathetic, you can't even take a rejection." You faced Mark, angry yet scared of what he might do to you now. You weren't going to let him have his way just because he was stronger, though. His face twisted in fury and he grasped your wrist, bruising the skin with his calloused fingers. He was about to hit you again with his other hand before it happened.

"Let go." Another male growled behind Mark's back. "Right. Now."

"Since when are you interested in protecting people? Or is it just this bitch?" Mark snarled at the other male, which you soon came to understand was actually Levi. Your eyes were wide as you stared at his frown. You doubted you'd ever seen him that angry.

"Are you sure you can question me right now?" The raven-haired boy asked with furrowed brows and a glare so hard you thought it would burn you if he directed it towards your eyes. Mark flinched and you felt his grip on your wrist loosen up a bit.

"What do you think you can do to me, Ackerman?" The blond asked cockily even though you could see his jaw clench in helplessness. You realised who would win if they got in a fight and honestly - if somebody asked you to name one thing that would probably make you piss yourself from fear it was going to be Levi's glare in the current moment. It burned with the intensity of a raging fire for unknown to you reasons - it couldn't be because of you, right? He was probably here to get himself coffee and decided to play 'save the damsel in distress' on the way to the machine.

"Do you wanna see?" Levi closed in on you and Mark and you felt your wrist fall from his hold as he stepped back. Levi cracked his knuckles and the blond gulped. You didn't really think Levi's words were what scared him off.

"I'm just tired because I had a match during PE. Next time this won't happen." He ran faster than anything you'd seen after that, leaving you and Levi all alone.

"Because there won't be a next time." The raven mumbled to himself dangerously low. His glare moved from the ground to you and you felt your blood boil. You glared back at him and pushed yourself off the tree with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl.

"What a fucking dumbass! I could handle him, you know, I didn't need your help!" You exclaimed in the raven's face. Surprisingly that was probably the first proper conversation you were having with him after your stiff official meeting.

"Do you really think so? Because I think you would've been raped in less than ten minutes." He pointed out in the most indifferent voice ever, making you try to dig a hole into his skull with your eyes. His glare was making you angrier yourself. When he stepped closer to you and gently wrapped his fingers around your bruised wrist your expression twisted in disgust and you yanked your hand away from his hold, ignoring how his glare had actually scared you moments ago.

You stepped away from him and went away, but not before snarling: "Don't fucking touch me."

5. Shocked gleam     Fright

"Hanji, stop talking about this, it's stupid." You were walking down the stairs with your brown-haired friend once again - a week or so had passed after the whole 'Mark incident' and surprisingly enough he never even approached you after that, it was like he was afraid to. You didn't pay much attention to it, going back to your routine of stealing glances at Levi Ackerman from time to time when he wasn't looking and hoping his gaze was tracing your face just as much as yours did his.

Unfortunately, you kept catching Petra Ral flirting with him and there was nothing you could do about it but blame yourself for not having the self-esteem to talk to him like she did. Right now, the discussed topic was close to your problems.

"I'm just saying if you mustered up some courage and started talking to him regularly his interest would pick up and hers would fade. The boy's basically staring at you every chance he gets, (Y/N)." Hanji argued as you pushed your way down the stairs through the other students going up. You knew Levi and Farlan were somewhere behind you since you had the same class together now, you just hoped neither of them would pick up on your conversation with the brown-haired girl.

"Hanji, I said stop. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Period." You stated harshly, looking at the girl next to you and clutching your backpack tighter. You briefly heard 'look at this' before someone bumped into you from behind and you lost your footing on the steps. Your body, your backpack and your combat boots tumbled down the stairs with nothing to catch on.

For a small second, you managed to use some student's shoulder to try and stabilise yourself, but it didn't work - it just turned your body so that you would fall on your back once the fateful moment came. You had a clear view of Hanji's parted lips and horrified expression. Right next to her, however, you saw something you may have just as well imagined with everything moving so fast.

Levi's hand was pushing through the students to get down faster and his eyes screamed something you couldn't really read. They gleamed in a way you never thought you'd see, like he'd seen his favourite cat get run over by a car on the street. Or something of the sort. You felt something grasp your hand, but had no time to see what exactly. The impact was here.

You didn't have time to analyse his wide eyes because your world went black less than a second after you were exposed to the complex sight.

Two hours later, you woke up in the infirmary with a giant headache and a panicked Hanji coming to visit you once classes were over. During your stay, you asked the nurse what had happened, but the only thing she said confused you even more: "If I understood correctly, the boy's arm almost broke when he used it to soften your fall. Well, you didn't get out completely uninjured since your back is bruised, but maybe you were actually lucky."

The next day Levi didn't come to school.

6. Deep gaze     Care

Calm, (Y/N), keep calm. It's all fine. You repeated over and over again in your head. Not like you had a chance to begin with, it's not a big deal.

Your breaths were coming out ragged and you felt like you weren't trembling because the ground in front of the side entrance of the school building was cold. A month, that was how long Levi had talked to you for. After the incident on the stairs at school and Levi's short absence after that, he started nodding to you when you'd see each other in the halls and you'd throw him a small smile, acknowledging his greeting. That went on for about two weeks before he came to you one day and asked to work with you since Farlan was absent and they always used the same coursebook. You'd said 'yes' without thinking much. Needless to say, you didn't really use the coursebook much that day yourself, you were too busy stealing glances at the male's face from up close and he was too nervous to actually read the exercises you were supposed to be doing.

After that it became a routine for him to approach you at least once a day - he'd give you a plain greeting, ask you about the classes you shared or if you wanted to get coffee together during lunch break (you felt he'd become overprotective after Mark even though there was no reason to be overprotective over you and no danger as a whole). There was always an excuse. Once he even sat next to you on the bus when there were no more free seats. You were happy, your mind was filled with butterflies and your stomach welled up with pleasant thoughts when he was around - or was it supposed to be the other way around?

It didn't matter since for a month you were the happiest girl on Earth.

And then Petra Ral came along. Needless to say, things started becoming shaky and you were drifting away - you didn't want to mess up her flirting with him. He seemed like he didn't notice or he was purely being an asshole and doing it on purpose. Not that it really mattered, you caught them making out less than four hours ago during lunch break. The worst was that he made eye contact right before breaking apart.

Not with her, with you. You would've felt sorry for her because her partner was clearly not paying attention to the activity she was putting so much effort (and tongue) into, but you hated her guts out of pure spite so you couldn't even care about emotions connected to empathy.

It's not his fault, he didn't give me any false hope - I created it myself.

That was your calming chant - he didn't do it just to break your heart, he did it because he wanted to be kind or use your coursebook when Farlan was gone. It wasn't to hurt you intentionally. It sounded stupid now that you thought about it - hoping for anything out of Levi Ackerman. He barely knew you and you barely knew him. Usually, you'd counter yourself with the argument you hadn't even led a proper conversation, but the worst here was that that was invalid now - you'd led many conversations throughout the past month and you'd enjoyed every single one of them no matter how stupid or trivial. For God's sake, you even enjoyed discussing different types of coffee and tea with him.

You weren't crying - you were having something like a minor panic attack, where you just trembled like a leaf and couldn't stop thinking about throwing your useless being in front of some passing bus. Truth be told, you hated these moments - if somebody had seen you during them that was Hanji and Hanji only. You'd never even let your parents understand about it even though the signs must've been there. The twitching, the trembling, the sweating, the ragged breathing. It was there. All of it was out there and if Levi ever saw it he'd truly give up on whatever you had even if it was as insignificant as your existence in the current moment.

You tried to laugh, but it came out messed up - like a person choking. You sat there for five more minutes - in the cold with the wind brushing your hair before you burrowed your face in your knees and closed your eyes. You could feel the tears, but they didn't want to come out. It was useless - crying about a boy that didn't even care about you.

Then somebody gently bumped your leg with their arm. Your head shot up and your hand instinctively reached for the pepper spray in your pocket, the one your father had given you as a Christmas present many months ago. Your eyes widened when you saw who was in front of you.

"Levi," you said, "why are you here?"

His face was expressionless as he gestured towards the cup in his hand. Your eyebrows furrowed and your hand went out of your pocket to grasp the carton cup he was clearly handing you. You smelled the beverage inside, relishing in the pleasant aroma of coffee. It made a smile spring out on your lips. Before you could register what was happening Levi had sat down next to you - closer than a guy with a girlfriend was supposed to sit next to another girl when they were all alone. The action made you flinch, but you didn't move away - it was a rare thing you got to sit this close to him.

You could smell his cologne - it was a fresh, strong smell that made you want to rub your face all over his chest. The male ran a hand through his ebony locks and you marvelled at the sight of his hair's softness. His body was oozing heat, beckoning you to go closer, as close as possible, and lay your head on his chest as his warm arms wrapped around you. You didn't.

"So, about today..." He started, sounding strangely stiff. You sipped from your coffee, warming your cold fingers with the cup and listening. Your stomach took one of those unpleasant turns, but you didn't let it show on your face.

"What exactly about today?"

"I don't even know if I should be discussing this with you, for all I know Farlan's sixth sense may be way too off the shitty map and you don't actually---" His confidence was gone once his panicked gaze met your curious orbs. He seemed confused, disgruntled and so many others. You were perplexed at his behaviour - was he usually this twitchy when it came down to your normal conversations? No, he wasn't, you figured a few seconds later.

"Well," you started after seeing he wouldn't continue, "I don't really know about Farlan's sixth sense, but I---"

"The kiss." He'd cut you off so abruptly you felt like he'd knocked the air out of your lungs with those two short syllables. "The kiss with Petra, it wasn't anything important. It was just a kiss." He continued, getting a hand through his hair again and scratching the back of his undercut with discomfort. "I know we both seem to acknowledge something without me saying it - something about us." You could guess where he was going with that. He meant the constant staring, all the glances and whatnot before you'd started talking. Or at least you thought he meant that. "Petra means nothing, she was just--- she was flirting with me I just didn't stop her because I wasn't sure if you... felt anything."

"... okay."

"Is it?" He asked once his eyes met yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers felt like ice even though they'd warmed up considerably. "Is it okay? Are you?"

"Everything's fine." Your forced smile turned out way more genuine than expected. His gaze was firm and his eyebrows were furrowed - he was trying to detect a lie somewhere along your sentence. He sighed when that didn't happen and for a few seconds, you were both silent. You were trying to process the situation.

Levi. Feelings. She was just flirting. Am I feeling anything?

Your heartbeat was erratic enough to answer in your stead. Then you looked up from the cup in your hands and met his gaze. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't the most mesmerizing thing you'd seen in your life. His eyes, so grey and so soft, pulled you in, it was like you couldn't look away from them. They were special, he was special and he made you feel special. Why was it that he looked at you with such affection? Were you reciprocating the gaze? You didn't know, but you felt like you could stay like that for hours.

And that was when it happened. Before you even had time to escape his warm hypnotising gaze.

He leaned in and kissed you.

7. Careless eyeroll     Reluctance

"You have to go." Hanji insisted, having already annoyed you as much as possible with her various arguments on the topic of your stubbornness.

"And you have to rethink the rights you have over my actions as a self-conscious human being." You replied boredly before placing a hand in front of your mouth in fake shock. "Oh, that's right - they don't exist in the first place." You gasped fakely, making her roll her eyes at your behaviour - forced nonchalance. She knew you wanted to accept the invitation but were too afraid everything would be ruined before you even had the chance to meet up.

"Would you please stop mocking me with those complex phrases, (Y/N)? You won't die if you go to a movie with him." The brunette insisted once more before you turned the corner and you frowned at her.

"Sure, not physically, but I'll be dying the whole time mentally - of embarrassment." You sassed, making the brown-haired girl huff in determination as she walked you to your next class. Your schedules differed the second term, so you could only see her during breaks and inbetween other classes. Right now you seriously didn't want to see her, though. She'd been pestering you about Levi's invitation for the past week.

"So it's decided, you will go." She stated, making you gape at her as you both stopped in front of the door for your next class.

"I never sa---"

"The tense, (Y/N), the tense is the key." Hanji cut you off with a cocky smirk and a mischievous gleam in her brown hues. Of course, she'd just forced you to accept. You had no choice - you knew the raven would probably remind you of it as well and you'd have to finally give him a proper answer.

"Shut up, Hanji." You glared at your best friend before she pushed you into the room.

"Now go." She ushered from the doorway while pointing in Levi's direction and you threw her a dirty look before stomping away. Less than three steps later he turned around and looked into your eyes, making you almost trip over your own feet.

"Hi." You greeted awkwardly as the male took out his notebook and eyed you up from head to toe. His gaze made you nervous and your knees were about to start wobbling when he spoke up.

"So about my earlier request, which you've been avoiding to answer for about a week?" Levi pushed gently although in a you-don't-have-a-choice-but-to-answer way, making you avert your eyes to the other side of the room in hopes of seeming calmer than you were. You knew it wouldn't work that well, but you hoped to have at least looked nonchalant.

"... I accept." Was your brief answer as your eyes glanced at Levi's visage secretly and directed themselves to the floor right after.

"I guess I should be grateful?" He rolled his eyes at you, reluctance dripping from the sentence. You knew his face would be a bit softer even though you weren't looking at it. You were good at guessing by his voice (not that it always worked), so right now you acknowledged he was just trying to tease you.

"If I don't see Petra Ral giving you a blowjob afterwards it's going to be fine." You said mockingly with narrowed eyes, which just called for some fake concern on his side. Of course, he and Petra had not become official, but anything was possible. You held resentment for that girl more than you did for yourself - that was something deserving of a medal.

"That was uncalled for." Levi tried to protect her boredly as your eyes finally met his.

"Yes, you're right, but that does not change my mind on the matter." Your tone was firm as you walked towards your own desk, close enough to his so you could connect them and look at the same coursebook. He followed behind silently.

"Fine." He mumbled while watching you put your backpack on the desk. You started digging through the numerous notebooks and course books for the ones you needed currently, which probably reminded him of your little tradition to share a coursebook. "The coursebook?" He inquired, asking if you've brought it which was stupid because you'd never forget it (no matter if you were going to admit it or not, you'd always put it first in your backpack because it gave you a reason to be close to him).

"It's here." You announced once having laid it down on the desk next to your notebook and he got to work with pushing your desks closer.

"Thank you by the way." He mumbled once class had started and your teacher had entered the room. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked into his bright grey eyes.

"What for?" You asked quietly as he eyed up the exercise your teacher had just written on the board. He didn't look up again for the next three seconds. All you were given after that was a brief glance filled with something you couldn't understand before Levi's eyes were pinned back to the coursebook.

"... maybe I should leave you to figure it out yourself."

8. Grinning glimmer     Happiness

The weather was calm, it was around noon and strong wind had been making the trees' branches bend mere minutes ago. Snow covered the ground all around, there had been a storm during the night and judging by the white inches stacked on top of the ground it hadn't been all that light. Now the sun was shining in the blue sky deprived of clouds and the air was cold and so still you could bet time itself wouldn't move until some wind blew by.

You fidgeted uncomfortably and stood in front of the wooden door of the small single-storey house, contemplating whether you should knock or run away now that you still had time to do it. Fate didn't really leave you a choice since just as you were about to turn round the door opened and made your eyes widen in alarm. You looked up and faced the person who had opened it with an insecure expression.

"... hey." You greeted after a small pause while Levi still processed your presence at his doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" His eyebrows furrowed and you drew your hands from behind your back, handing him the little box you were holding. The chilly air made your face go red anyway, so you hoped he wouldn't notice the change in its colour due to other causes as you talked.

"I was passing close by and I thought I could come and say 'hi'. So, hi, I guess." You smiled awkwardly, making him raise a thin eyebrow as he took the grey box from your hands. "And I bought this for you, but since we're in the middle of winter break I didn't really have a pretext to see you, so I might've created it... or something." You switched your weight between your left and right foot during your explanation while Levi stared at you wondrously.

"... for Christmas?" He questioned after a slight pause and you noticed he might've been cold judging by the way he only had on a plain pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"No, it's for your birthday. Happy birthday by the way." You smiled a bit, eyeing him up from head to toe again and starting to regret having come at all. You guessed it would've been better if you'd waited until the end of winter break to give it to him. "Um, I guess I have to go." You stepped backwards before he smirked slightly and a mischievous gleam shone in his eyes.

"And insult the tradition?" He inquired slyly as your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion.

"What tradition?" You witnessed the flicker of his eyes to the doorframe above your heads and what you saw there made your breath hitch, something the raven was able to pinpoint quickly due to the chilly weather making every breath you took exit in the form of a white puff of smoke. Your eyes were still pinned to the object at the top of the doorframe. A mistletoe. "... oh. I'm not really sur---"

Before you had time to finish refusing the very generous yet embarrassing offer, Levi had stepped closer and cupped your cheek with his warm hand. His lips pressed to yours in a rather long, tender kiss and you felt yourself basically melting outside his doorstep. It was as if sparks flew about in your mind - just like the first time he'd kissed you. When his lips parted from yours and you opened your eyes, you saw his orbs glimmering so brightly it was as if he'd grinned your way.

"Thank you for the present, (Y/N)." He whispered, hot breath hitting your lips, and when he stepped back again you could swear he was mentally laughing at your frozen stance. You almost stumbled on your way away from the door.

"S-See you at school!" You waved, turning around and basically running away as fast as possible from the embarrassment, your boots crushing the soft snow under them down the path to your own home. You were a coward, but a happy feeling was bubbling in your chest, and God, for that look in his eyes you'd bear a lot more humiliation and possible snowstorms.

9. Foggy narrowness     Arousal

Indecent. That was what you were being right now.

"You shouldn't have gotten detention because of me." Levi scoffed, grey orbs eyeing the empty room you were currently in after today's accident during lunch break when he'd gone to fetch coffee for both of you and you'd waited for him by the entrance even after most students had gone back inside the building because of the bad weather.

"And you shouldn't have been an asshole to a teacher to begin with." You scolded him back, your eyes, in turn, being pinned to his face and the desperate way he was holding himself back from looking at you as well because he was supposedly mad. You were leaning on the desk he'd seated himself at, seeing as the teacher in charge of detention was still nowhere to be seen.

"He was feeling you up." Levi said as if it would justify the whole situation and indeed, it did. You didn't know what you two were - certainly not an official couple anyway, but you were closer than before and now offered each other physical affection more often without as much embarrassment being present (although it still happened when you were all alone).

Your face went cold and that was exactly when he decided to direct his gaze your way - it was cold and sharp and you knew he'd seen right through you, almost immediately so. You'd been scared. Disgusted. Your fingers started fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and you averted your gaze to the floor at your feet.

"... doesn't matter, you almost punched him." You said accusingly and Levi rolled his eyes at your stupid excuse.

"I would've if we'd been outside of school territory." He declared and something in that sentence of somewhat sweet protectiveness (although expressed through aggression) made you extremely uncomfortable. You still hadn't told him anything about your feelings and he about his, you'd only gone out on numerous dates and spent an enormous amount of time looking at each other more openly - you rarely spoke of each other's feelings and you felt discomfort just thinking of the moment that would be needed for you to sustain this thing you had going on. You didn't know if Levi thought the same. You groaned in slight exasperation and turned your head toward the door of the room.

"Ugh. Where's the teacher in charge of detention anyway? We've been here for ten minutes now." You complained, wanting to talk of something else since it was obvious the raven had won this little argument of yours. Levi took the chance to stand up and lean close to you and when you turned back round his eyes were way closer than anticipated.

They pulled you in but weren't as sharp as every other day. When he leaned closer and kissed you, you got a hunch why it was that way. During the kiss, his hand placed itself on your thigh and his whole body hovered over yours like predator hovered over pray prior to the finishing blow.

"... the teacher can come in any second now, Levi." You warned firmly yet in a small voice once the raven had started kissing down your neck. You felt giddy because it was nice and wow - since when was that so pleasant? Your previous boyfriends had also done this, but with Levi, it wasn't quite the same - maybe it was him or maybe it was the circumstances and the chance of you getting caught by a teacher, but you felt extremely good, almost to the point you'd let it go further despite the way you were in a classroom.

"I'm aware." The raven droned from the crook of your neck where he'd been sucking on a second ago and you let out a sharp breath when his hand snuck under your shirt. His head lifted so he could face you again and his eyes were on your lips.

"Then stop." You kept playing the role of common sense even though this situation wasn't entirely all that dangerous. Levi's smoky hues were pinned to your own and you noticed they were more narrow than usual, like he didn't even want to waste energy on keeping them open but he just had to. For a second you thought the whole look on his face was something you didn't come across every day or even when you were alone. When he kissed you again it dawned on you why.

His lips pressed against yours felt soft and pleasant, his breath was made of tea and mint and it turned your mind hazy. You felt like half the blood in your body went to your face when his tongue invaded your mouth and his hands found your breasts over your bra. You felt the softness of his hair but were so out of it you were unable to open your eyes. Or do anything but kiss him. You couldn't recall feeling the same way during your make-out sessions with your previous boyfriends - this was a whole new sensation, a combination of thrill and something that made your face flush as your chest swelled with pleasant warmth.

"They won't do anything to us for this." He declared as if he made the rules and you had to blink a few times to come to your senses - your arms were thrown around his neck, your fingers were in his hair and your legs were wrapped around his waist - how long had this kiss been? He was looking down at you in the sexiest way possible and honestly, how could you possibly refuse that face?

"They can do a lot to us for what's about to follow." You worded warningly, knowing where things would go if you didn't resist even though a small part of you told you he'd never dare do it in school when it would be your first time together. You didn't listen to it, keeping in mind your all-time favourite motto that all men were pigs and they'd take advantage of any and every situation that provided it.

Levi didn't. He kept kissing you, left you breathless, gifted you a few hickeys to go home with and gave you a lot more of that sultry look that almost made your knees give out, but never provided you with legitimate proof of your motto's rightfulness and it was about at that moment when you were walking home afterwards when you realised---

If you hadn't been at school you would've certainly had sex and what was worse - you wouldn't have had anything against it had it been with him.

10. Calculating ice       Thoughtfulness

"I don't approve of this relationship." You heard Levi take a breath from across the form of your father and his crossed arms.

"Dad, Levi isn't---" You tried to argue but were quickly shut up. It was seven in the morning. Thankfully, also a Saturday.

"Oh, he is! He invited you to that party and when you were so wasted you couldn't walk he could only think of how to park you in his bed! The next morning you call us with a hangover and this punk walks you here because apparently you've been together for almost about a year now but he still doesn't know where you live!" You frowned, not possessing enough bravery to speak against your father. Fortunately, you had your mother for that.

"James, calm down." She placed a hand on his shoulder as he grumbled in his armchair. You and Levi were seated on the couch, still in your pyjamas.

"I don't want to, Melissa! I don't like this boy and I don't want him around my daughter!" Even though it was a hiss directed at your mother, all occupants of the room including the aforementioned 'boy' managed to hear it. You looked over at Levi next to you, pondering whether you should grasp his hand or think up an excuse to let him leave before this became a full-on argument.

"Our daughter." Your mother's voice was firm and her eyes didn't dare leave your father's face to console you but you were too indulged in the look on Levi's face to notice it. Or in other words, the lack of a particular look on his face.

"If she's yours as much as she's mine then why aren't you worried about her as well?" Your father argued, making your frown deepen. The raven next to you had his elbows propped on his knees and his eyes staring at the carpet under his feet. His expression was devoid of any emotion - his face was perfectly relaxed with the exception of his furrowed eyebrows. His eyes were filled with thoughts you couldn't decipher, the usual grey now felt like frozen silver.

"I'm sure he means well, if they've been in a relationship for a year and this is the first mistake he's made, he can't possibly be bad influence." Your mother's voice was hushed but you heard it - Levi did, too. You placed a hand over the one he'd put on his knee. You could feel his finger tapping the fabric of his jeans as if he tried to tune everything else out and concentrate - he did that during tests at school.

"... I'm sorry, Levi." You whispered, bringing your face slightly closer to his. He didn't look at you. The ice in his eyes kept still, pinned to the floor. "Don't listen to him, I know just as much as you do we're both at fault." The regret was heard in your voice but the raven decided not to address it. He pursed his lips, then parted them.

"Maybe your father's right." His gaze was still on the floor. Still icy.

"He's not!" You raised your voice, briefly noting how your parents had stopped their own discussion and were now listening to yours. Your fingers slowly retracted from Levi's hand as he looked at you, face not changing in the least. You felt the gelidity in his eyes freeze the blood in your veins.

"Should we end this?" He questioned in a small voice - small but firm. Your reaction was immediate. Your expression hardened and you glared daggers his way, eyebrow twitching. You pursed your lips, forming a proper reply although a very big 'no' would work just as well.

"When it hasn't even started officially? I refuse." You spat, way more coldly than anticipated. Levi's eyes didn't soften, he was still considering this as a possibility. Your parents, however, were shocked. You grasped Levi's hand again, glare softening to a firm gaze instead. You attempted to make him change his mind - ten seconds were needed for you to succeed.

And afterwards, you swore, you didn't want to have to do it again.

11. Bright shine       Love

"Your boyfriend's got quite the style." Hanji showed up during the break, linking her arm with yours and leading you down the hallway to your next class together. You raised an eyebrow at her statement, not so much as the person who was addressed in it - she'd started calling Levi 'your boyfriend' although he still hadn't confirmed your couple status. "Everybody's discussing it. The girls mostly." She whispered devilishly in your ear, smirking rather big.

Your brows knitted together in oblivion as you walked to your next class. It was a class you also had with Levi. You'd see what Hanji had meant in just a minute. Before that, you had to get into the classroom, though, and at the current moment, it proved a near-impossible task with all the girls in front of it.

Some had their arms linked like you and Hanji, others were pretending to walk around, third leaned on the walls and some just didn't put effort into being subtle - they were the ones standing at the very door and looking inside. Your face turned sour like you'd bitten into a lemon and you glanced at Hanji. Was this what she had meant? All the girls were discussing something, giggling inbetween phrases and shooting frantic glances at the door.

"Students coming through, I've a VIP package to deliver to the hot guy inside, you know!" Hanji called out loudly, making you choke on your own spit in embarrassment. Then, as the girls actually let you pass and stared at you in confusion, you made sure to metaphorically stab her with your glare a few times. She only chuckled, and then you were inside the classroom.

Levi was... quick to notice. He popped out amongst the rest inside, not so much because of the fact he looked good but because his no-white clothes policy had obviously taken over him completely as he'd been choosing today's attire this morning. He was wearing a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt, tucked into a pair of impeccably ironed black dress pants. The dress coat and shining shoes were touches that people noticed when looking further into it. And the glare he had on surely prevented most from doing it.

Hanji let go of your arm and pushed you in his direction, he was sitting at his desk, already having adjoined it with yours, and attempting to ignore the people around him. You walked forward, self-conscious because of the all-black dress you were wearing and how it would quickly draw attention. Had it been a coincidence for you to match colours?

"Good morning." You greeted once having taken a seat next to him. "You're the talk of school today as it seems." You tried making your voice nonchalant. The few gazes on your forms, dressed so similarly and sitting next to each other, was plain frustrating.

"And you're my VIP package." Levi stated boredly from the desk next to yours, looking up and into your eyes. He saw them widen as pink tinted your cheeks. You thought he wouldn't have been able to hear. "Hanji tends to be a bit louder than needed." He informed when you dared not address the topic yourself.

"I know. So, what's the occasion for your attire? Are you attempting another gothic phase?" You joked with a small smirk, eyeing his clothes from up close and admiring the way he managed to look good in all black. It made him seem a bit more grown-up, contrasting his porcelain skin yet matching the colour of his ebony locks. His eyes were a nice addition. If you didn't know him, you'd think he was a college graduate, not a senior in high school.

"The funeral's right after classes end right? I thought I'd come since you'll be representing your family all alone. You were telling Hanji on the phone you didn't know anyone there, so now you'll know me." His voice, indifferent yet soft, made your stomach take a warm turn before a giant grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. You covered it with your hand as Levi met your gaze and added: "You'll have to introduce me as your boyfriend, though."

Oh God. This was it. You knew Levi. You knew his expressions and his voice and his eyes. And they told you what you'd been waiting for - a confirmation.

"Sure, it won't be hard." You showed him your grin with a small shrug just as the teacher entered the room, having shooed away all the girls in the hallway. You quickly pulled out your notebook and the coursebook you shared with Levi for the second school year in a row, placing them in the middle of your desk. You opened your notebook and stared at the empty lines with a smile.

Hello, this is my boyfriend, Levi. You giggled as quietly as possible and Levi shot you a questioning look.

"Just practising." His features didn't soften but his eyes shone abnormally in your direction - they were tender and so bright it could've been blinding, but you found it mesmerizing. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you felt Levi's hand on top of your own. You bit back a smile. It wasn't a success.

God, how I love this boy. The realisation that followed wasn't even something that you minded. It just made you smile harder. Because somewhere along the bored lines and the bright gaze you could see he loved you just as much.

"So, what in the fucking hell are you reading?" Your boyfriend's question brings you back to reality and you blink at him for a few seconds before having collected your thoughts. You look back down at the notebook. The sentence is highlighted in neon yellow and it's giving you a weird feeling.

"Just... Psychology." You answer simply, contemplating the end and the beginning. From indifference to love. From glances to being together. From strangers to lovers. And now...?

"And it's funny because?" He questions and in return you snort condescendingly.

"Well, because it's so stupidly inaccurate tha---" You look up and the word dies at the back of your throat. He's looking at you with confusion, but under that, there's a silver layer of warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. You gulp and laugh in spite of yourself, he raises an eyebrow. "You know what? I don't even know anymore."

"Are you okay?" He gets a hand through his ebony locks and you watch, as always mesmerized by the little gestures he performs.

"Perfectly fine." You give him a small smile as he looks at you expectantly. He knows you want to say something, that something's prodding at your thoughts. Spill the beans, his gaze tells. And you do. "Have I told you I love you?" You blurt out, borderline nervously. You feel weird but it's not because of him, it's because of the realisation that has dawned on you.

"Just yesterday actually." He informs casually and picks up his cup of tea. Only a tea-lover like him drinks it during the summer. Or a psychopath - it is yet to be decided. You eye him for a few seconds but pause right before responding.

"... good." You say with a soft smile. He meets your gaze and he's still clueless but somehow he's seen something that makes him utter a simple 'stupid' under his breath as he rolls his eyes. You say nothing in return to the subtle insult.

"So, are you going to next week's exam or sleeping?"

"The latter sounds tempting." You respond, making him snort.

"Of course it does."

"You?" You question back and his gaze meets yours, you feel the air of superiority around him and already know what he'll say.

"Yeah, and if I pass I have to wait for the winter exams." He explains boredly, twirling your pen in his hold as you close up your old Psychology notebook.

"Cool. I have to take it and two others. Then I can get some rest." You sigh longingly and he glares.

"And work done."

"Oh, don't bring it up." You roll your eyes and your shoulders sag in despair. Your boyfriend is not one to obey orders, he's usually the one to give them. His imperative gaze settles on your pleading one and he opens his mouth.

"You were the one who told me to start working on a fucking book. Better work on your own stupid paintings." He commands, making you groan in exasperation. If it wasn't for you he wouldn't be halfway done with his brick of a suspense novel, but if it wasn't for him you wouldn't be past your first painting. And you wouldn't have found a buyer for it. But now you have to do more paintings and you just can't figure out your muse. You've little to no motivation and the exams are stressing you out while your boyfriend sips on his tea and has the audacity to tell you to get your ass moving.

"Fine." You groan with finality, admitting your loss. "Sometimes I really hate your perfectionist ass, Levi."

"And sometimes I really hate your slothful ass, but opposites attract. That's what Hanji says right?" His grey hues glisten mockingly and you smirk.

"Often when you're mentioned, yes." You confirm, smug look melting into an affectionate expression as Levi grasps your hand and interlocks your fingers. "It's a little hot for that." You inform and when he starts to let go, you grab onto his fingers tightly and smile. "I never said you should let go." The pointed phrase meets only a huff as your boyfriend sips from his tea.

You meet his gaze and try to remember a time when you haven't been mesmerised by his eyes. There isn't such a moment. You become aware of the look he's giving you, your smile grows and your eyes soften. Three years later and he hasn't changed a bit. You catch yourself returning the affectionate gaze as a conclusion settles into your mind.

There is very little that can make you change your opinion on the matter of this stupid eye to soul connection.

Very little but it's there - efficient and determined.

And his name is Levi.

[voiceless-terror]

For the comfortober!!!! If you'd like to do some of them, might I request "Back to school/work"??? Picturing Jon, after being v sick, or recovering from an injury finally coming back to work, maybe recovered, maybe not?? And the crew just totally fussing over him ??

Here you are! Just in time for day 25.

The situation at hand is not ideal.

He’d been carrying boxes, heavy, cumbersome things that blocked his field of vision as he made his way to Document Storage. Tim had cast a disapproving eye; Jon’s not the most coordinated, he knows that. But the least he could do was carry a few boxes of statements to their proper filing place. 

But he managed to, in Tim’s retelling, ‘completely eat shit’ as his leg came in contact with an errant box, causing the one he was carrying to go flying and Jon to fall unceremoniously on the ground with an audible crack. 

Everything’s a bit blurry after that.

He remembers an intense pain in his ankle- he’s been here before, his bones are not the most stable structures (it’s a shame they’re tasked with holding his body together). But that didn’t make the pain any less. Surprisingly, it was Martin who took charge, showing a competence Jon had never seen applied to his research or his Latin translations. He picked him up, managing to avoid putting any pressure on his ankle and summarily put him in a cab, despite Jon’s many refutations that he was fine. 

He stopped that after Martin shot him a very unimpressed look.

He paid the cab driver and Jon let him- the pain was starting to make his brain foggy and his stomach nauseous. Martin waited the full two hours it took to get him admitted, even letting him fall asleep on his shoulder in one very embarrassing instance that he hopes will never see the light of day. The result of his clumsiness- a broken ankle, a cast, and a set of crutches that he threw into the closet as soon as he got home. He had a cane, that should be fine. 

Martin followed him to the door, making sure he was settled on the couch and fixing him a cup of tea as if Jon were an invalid. Sure, the painkillers he was on did not allow for much thinking, but he could manage to take care of himself. When Martin suggested staying a while, just to make sure he was fine, Jon found himself snapping a “No!” and breaking Martin out of his competent stupor. He shook his head a bit, turning red and letting out a nervous laugh. “I’ll uh, leave you to it then. Let me know if you need anything.” On his way out, he turned to him, face serious. “And don’t even think about coming in tomorrow.” He wasn’t- he’s not a complete idiot.

Okay, maybe he did briefly consider it the next morning. But the soreness had intensified, and he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to make it without breaking another bone.

Getting around was...difficult, to say the least. He spent most of the day on the couch, dry swallowing ibuprofen as the painkillers the hospital prescribed were a bit too strong, despite the ease they provided. God, it was so boring. He wished he had the foresight to bring work home. But his assistants’ texts ignored any query about work, only focusing on well wishes and asking if he ‘needed anything.’ What he needed was to do his job. If he was going to be motionless, he might as well be motionless behind a desk.

The next day, the train ride nearly kills him.

Jon manages to find a seat; people are generally sympathetic when they see a cane and a cast. He should’ve taken a cab, of course, but that seemed a little extravagant. He can manage a few steps.

Probably should’ve brought the crutches as well, but they seemed too unwieldy. When he tried them in his flat they’d put too much pressure under his arms, and he wasn’t sure how to go about adjusting them; he quickly got frustrated and threw them to the side. Patience was never one of his strong suits.

But the pain is unimaginable. By the time he gets into work, he’s huffing and puffing, on the verge of passing out. He’d taken ibuprofen again that morning, but it’s doing very little to help him out. As soon as Rosie catches sight of him, she makes sympathetic cooing noises and attempts to take his bag from him.

“Poor thing,” she says after he refuses for the third time. “Are you sure you don’t need help downstairs?”

Quite sure.

The stairs intensify the aching in his joints and he’s sure every one of his assistants hears the tell-tale thump of his cast landing awkwardly on each step. He’s met with three concerned stares, all tinged with exasperation and disappointment. He’s been eliciting those reactions a lot these days.

“Didn’t Elias approve a week of paid leave?” Sasha asks, immediately attempting to take his bag, just like Rosie. And just like with Rosie, he dodges her arms, letting out an involuntary hiss as he puts pressure on his injury. “Honestly Jon, you should’ve stayed home.”

“And where are your crutches, mister?” Tim’s leaning against the wall, looking for all the world like a disappointed parent. “I happen to know that a cane’s not sufficient when you’re in a cast like that. Not to mention uncomfortable, dragging it all around London. What were you doing, hopping down the street?”

“I had a seat on the train, thank you very much,” he says, attempting to hobble away as fast as he can to take refuge in his office. This was all very overbearing. 

“You took the train-?” Martin’s incredulous voice is cut short by a slammed door.

Peace and quiet. His office has always been a nice place to suffer in private.

Not that it remains so for long.

Martin comes in not minutes later, bearing a cup of tea accompanied by a few biscuits. “You don’t seem like much of a breakfast-type,” Martin surmises correctly, “And you’ll need to eat something with the medication they’ve got you on.” Jon does not mention he’s not currently on said medication. It sits in his pocket, heavy and accusing. Instead, he just grunts, barely deigning to raise his eyes from the work in front of him. The door shuts and Jon nibbles at the food before his stomach tells him this is a bad idea. 

He does eventually (and very reluctantly) call one of them in- he still wants to go through the files from two days prior, but he’s going to need a bit of help to get there. Tim doesn’t help him walk, however, instead pushing his office chair into Document Storage with surprising care, and helps him prop his leg up on a box to keep it elevated. Tim hands him the files one by one, sorting by date- it’s an easy, companionable task. Tim always was one of his favorite researchers to work with; there’s a reason he asked him to join his team. He’s wearing a jumper in a nice, deep blue shade. Jon is not immune to Tim’s charm or looks, but he’s mostly preoccupied with how warm it looks. His own button down and sweater vest are barely doing the job.

After about thirty minutes of this, his leg starts to ache- the stretch is no longer pleasant, and he attempts very gingerly to place his ankle on the ground. Needless to say, it does not work out very well. If the chair had about two more inches, his foot could dangle without putting undue pressure on his joints. Alas, the chair is already at its highest. 

Tim notices his fidgeting, zeroing in on the pain in his face. “Need a break?”

Jon sighs. “I’d rather get this box done, at the very least.”

Tim looks thoughtful at this. “Hold on- give me a sec.” He leaves the room but returns rather quickly, two pillows from the break room couch in tow. “Here- lean on me for a mo’, will you?” Jon manages to get to his feet relatively painlessly, leaning most of his weight on Tim’s shoulders as he puts the pillows down as a cushion, lifting him the desired inches he needs. “Better?” Tim smirks, clearly proud of his achievement.

“Much, thank you,” he admits, just happy to continue working. The throbbing is getting worse with each passing minute. They’re eventually interrupted by Sasha, who announces that she’s gotten takeout for everyone- Indian, Jon’s favorite. Elaborate and unnecessary, but appreciated. 

Ten minutes later and he’s sitting in the break room with the rest of them, picking at his curry. He knows he should eat; his mind registers the hunger, but it's hard to feel through all of the pain. Ibuprofen’s just not going to cut it. With great reluctance, he pulls the bottle of pills out of his pocket, unscrewing the cap. Martin notices.

“About time for your next dosage, I reckon?” he questions innocently. Martin doesn’t know he never took the first one, and Jon would like to keep it that way. He can’t handle any more thoughtfulness and care from the man. So he just nods, swallowing two pills and chasing them with water. If he can manage a few more bites of curry, it should be fine. 

What he didn’t keep in mind is his original reaction to the medication- that strange, loopy feeling that had him leaning on Martin the entire cab ride home. About thirty minutes later, it starts to hit. And all he can think about is Tim’s jumper.

It just looked so warm. Jon wants a jumper like that. Maybe he has a jumper like that? He’ll have to check when he’s home. There’s a lot of stuff in his closet- dumb things, remnants from his college days. Probably a few of Georgie’s jumpers. Maybe Georgie’s jumpers are that warm? But none of them are that nice shade of blue. Jon wants a jumper like that, yeah. In a nice shade of blue. He’s going to ask Tim where he got it from. But he’s got to be discreet. What if Martin overhears? And then Martin gets the jumper? They can’t all wear the same jumper, that’s ridiculous. He’s already going to have to coordinate with Tim, make sure they don’t wear it on the same day. Jon’s a grown man, he can’t go around matching his employees.

He lifts the phone, dialing Tim’s extension. It only rings once before Tim’s cheerful voice answers. “What’s up, bossman? Everything alright?”

“Tim,” he whispers, just in case anyone’s listening. “Tim, I need you to come to my office...immediately.” No, he has to give a reason or he’ll be suspicious. Why would he call Tim into his office? “Reports, Tim. Research. Bring...your research. Yes. Goodbye.” That seemed natural enough.

For some reason, all three of his assistants are at the door. No, that’s not what he wants. Not what he wants at all. “I only need Tim.” He’s still whispering for some reason. “The rest of you go away.”

They don’t, pesky things they are. Tim moves closer, face both concerned and amused. “What’s going on, Jon?” He beckons him closer- he’s so blurry, it’s hard to focus. When he gets within grabbing distance he tugs at his sleeve, forcing him close to his face. “Er, boss-”

“Tim,” Jon’s eyes are wide with urgency. “Tim, I need to know where- where you got your jumper.”

Tim makes a face, somewhere between amused and confused. Jon does not understand what’s difficult about this question. It’s very straightforward. “Um, sorry? My jumper?”

“Yes!” His voice gets louder, though he doesn’t mean it to. “It’s just- it looks so warm. And it’s so soft.” His voice starts to wobble and his eyes water as he runs his thumb across the fabric. It’s a very good jumper. “Such a nice shade of blue.”

“Okay, did you take one too many of those pills? You weren’t like this earlier.” Tim’s got one arm on Jon’s chest, attempting to stop his wandering hands as his eyes search the desk. “I swear to god, if you’ve overdosed-”

“Don’t be stupid, Tim.” Why won’t he let him touch the jumper? Does Tim not want him to be warm? Rather rude. “I only took two today.”

“Wait, seriously?” It’s Martin’s voice he hears next. “Oh, Jon. You must have been in so much pain.”

“Obviously, Martin!” The snap comes as naturally as breathing- Jon’s an old hand at that, after all. “But that’s not the point-”

“Whoa there, buddy. No need to get tetchy.” Tim’s got both of his hands on his shoulders, his eyes now patient and kind. “You’re high as hell, aren’t you? Think you should probably have a rest right about now, yeah?”

Jon can’t help the whine that comes out of his throat. Rest? No, he wants-

“I swear I’ll tell you where I got the jumper. Hell, I’ll even get one for you if I can. But only if you sleep.”

Jon sighs wearily. If I must. “That sounds reasonable. Thank you, Tim.” He allows himself to be led to a couch, limping all the way. Oh, that’s quite nice. Yes, that’ll do. Tim arranges a pillow beneath his head, and Jon hopes it's not the one he sat on before. His stomach growls, and a thought occurs to him; he grabs at Tim’s arm again, forcing him down to his level.

“Jon, I told you I’d-”

“No, that’s not it. I-I threw out some biscuits earlier. Please send my apologies to Martin.” 

Tim’s face is fond. “Will do, boss.”

“And perhaps you could secure me a few more for later.”

A soft snort. “I’m sure I can.”

“Tim, you are invaluable to me.”

“God I wish I had this on tape-”

A soft click sounds from somewhere in the room as if in response. Tim blinks. “Did you hear that?”

Jon doesn’t answer, already halfway towards sleep. 

“Huh. Alright, then.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27715163

[finalgilmoregirl]

off the table (steve rogers x reader)

warning: very angsty, fluff and a little smut but nothing too graphic. ALSO ENDGAME SPOLIERS!!

a/n: based on a request i got from @buckythetinman for the song “off the table” by ariana grande!! i loveeeee this song. 🤍✨🥺

this was supposed to be a blurb but i turned out to be superrrr long so i’m sorry for that and i’m also sorry for any spelling mistakes! i got a little confused with the time travel stuff but it’s okay i think.

—————————————————

Will I ever love the same way again? (Way again)
Will I ever love somebody like the way I did you?

despite how happy steve seemed in the present day, finally adjusted with your help, you knew deep down he still wished to go back and know what could’ve been. what life would be like with his beloved peggy carter. so when the topic of time travel was brought up, you didn’t know whether to be excited or worried.

when the big “time heist” began you were teamed with the others to go back to 2012 to find the tesseract. but that mission went south very quickly and it was suggested that steve and tony go even father back to 1970. you and scott shared your doubts of the new plan, warning them that they didn’t have enough particles to come back after that. but they went anyway, and when they came back, you were relieved but you noticed steve was acting different. it was like he was stuck in a daze after that and you were worried that he’d seen something he maybe shouldn’t have. your suspicions were proven correct when you caught him looking at his compass. something you hadn't seen since you first started dating.

Never thought you'd be so damn hard to replace

I swear it don't need to be this way

the fight with thanos and his army had taken a big toll on you. physically, mentally and emotionally. bruises littered your whole body but the most pain you felt was in your heart. you tried to accept both natasha and tony’s deaths and be grateful for all the people that were alive because of them. but you just couldn’t. the first few nights after tony’s funeral, steve held you in bed as you cried. he helped you shower and encouraged you to eat when you couldn’t bring yourself to. and you tried your best to help him through the grieving process too, despite how helpless you felt. he refused it most of the time but was grateful nonetheless. and after you cried yourself to sleep, he would pull his compass out of the bedside drawer and look at the picture of peggy, and sighed at the thought of seeing her again. but then he would feel you nuzzling into his side, looking calmer than you’d had in days, and his heart sank at the thought of leaving you so vulnerable. would it be worth it?

you noticed the way he was pulling away from you. first he started staying in tonys basement lab late nights with bruce. he felt bad coming back to your shared room and seeing you in the same position you were in from when he left you that morning. but he was doing what he thought was right. he was hoping that not being close to you now, would make it not hurt so bad when he left.

this continued for a while. he started to think you’d die of starvation so he asked wanda to take you food, to which she said “you’re her boyfriend. this is supposed to be your job.” he brushed her off with an “i’ve been busy.” she took it upon herself to look in his head to see exactly what he was so busy with that he couldn’t look after his girl. and she was shocked to see a daydream of him going back in time and being reunited and happy with another woman, to which she recognized as margaret carter.

If I can't have you, is love completely off the table?

Do I sit this one out and wait for the next life? (Next life)

he missed you before he even left. the night before he was set to take the stones back it all hit him at once. how you’d been there for him through so much, and now he was leaving you? he tried justifying it by thinking you’d want him to be happy. but what about your happiness?

that evening he was determined to show you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you. he went into your room and saw that you weren’t in bed. he panicked for a second until he heard the shower running. he was proud of you for getting out of bed to freshen up, but remembered how he had been no help in it. he sat on the bed you two had been sharing and waited for you to come out. and when you did he felt his heart flutter and break at the same time. you were wearing one of his shirts, which he never got tired of seeing you in. but after taking in the rest of your appearance more clearly, he almost gasped. you looked so much more thinner than he last recalled, clearly a sign you still had yet to eat a proper meal. your eyes were puffy and skin looked dull.

he didn’t hesitate to stand up and engulf you in one of the tightest hugs he’d ever given. it surprised you at first and you couldn’t help but sob as you held him. you missed this. steve held back tears as he let out a sad “i love you so much y/n. i’m so sorry i haven’t been there for you.”

that night, he made love to you like it was the first time again. his showed how sorry he was by kissing every inch of your weak body and never going a minute without telling you how much he adored you. after hours of passion, steve held you in his arms and watched as you slept, trying to memorize every single one of your features. he pulled you close one last time and whispered to your sleeping body. “maybe we’d have our happy ending in another life, y/n. i just don’t think it’ll be this one.”

Am I too cold? Am I not nice?

Might not be quite yet healed already

Should I be goin' too steady? (Too steady)

But I just wanna know is love completеly off the table?

the next morning, you woke up in the arms of your boyfriend. and for the first time in a long time, you felt that things were turning up. you turned to see him already awake, though it looked like he had been crying. you reached up to hold his face in your hands. “what’s wrong stevie?” you asked, tiredly. he rubbed a hand up and and down your waist and exhaled. “i just love you so much baby.” he said. you wrapped yourself around him and ran your hands through his silky blonde hair. “i love you too” you giggled and he felt his heart swell. you pulled away just enough to see his face. he opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. you nodded, encouraging him to go on. “i uh..” he started, “i have to take the stones back today.”

you tensed under his hold and he felt it. “how long will you be gone?” you wondered aloud. steve let out a small sigh and didn’t answer right away, because truth be told, he didn’t even know. what would be days on the mission for him could possibly be only a few minutes for you or vice versa. it had been discussed with him that he’d have to go back to 1970 and was aware of the fact that he’d risk seeing peggy again. so he just gave the only answer he felt he could give. “i don’t know...not long.”

I'll wait for you
Even though it always feels like I'll be number two

To someone you can't hold anymore

If you let me in, I'm ready to give you what I couldn't before

before you knew it, you were standing next to the podium and watched as bruce prepared the machine for steve to leave. you already accepted the thought of him not coming back before he even went through. and even though it pained you, there’s nothing you wanted more than for him to be happy, even if that meant him leaving you for someone else. he didn’t have to tell you, or explain what he was really going to do. you were always good at reading him, which is one of the things he loves most about you. but you guessed it wasn’t enough for him to stay.

so as you wished him luck, you gave him a knowing glance. a look of guilt washed over him as he mouthed a small “i love you”. and then he was gone.

'Cause I got you, girl, let me help you through it

You're trying to fill the void with a couple boys

I can see right through it (You can see right through it)

steve had told bucky what he was going to do. and he was furious. he’d grown close to you in the short years you’d known each other and it was safe to say he was very protective of you. he refused to let steve leave you, especially after all the loss you’d been through recently. but again, his heart was set. he knew bucky would take care of you. and that’s exactly what happened when steve was taking longer to come back than he should’ve.

you guess you hadn’t accepted his departure after all, cause in the midst of sam and bruce’s panic, you fell to your knees in a sob. clutching your chest as tears streamed down your face, bucky was quick to hug you. he didn’t say anything because really...what could he?

I can love you harder than I did before
Was in a dark place back then

I was toxic, then I was toxic to someone else

I was haunted by the hills (Oh yeah, yeah)

I couldn't give you my all, but I will

If you let me in your arms (Your arms)

If you let me in your heart

I don't think that love's completely off the table

steve regretted leaving. he thought this was what he wanted. when he went back and saw peggy again, he felt his heart pounding, but he thinks that it was just out of nerves. after their reunion, peggy took them home and they shared their dance as he promised they would before he went into the ice. but something was off.

dancing with her almost felt wrong. her body didn’t fit as perfectly with his as he’d imagined. he brushed it off again as nerves but the longer the evening went with her, the more doubts crept up on him and he started to worry if this was all a mistake. peggy felt it too. she asked him about the future, how his life was like and what he’d experienced. he told her about saving bucky, the avengers and even going to space. without even noticing, he’d began talking about you. “who’s y/n?” she asked him. he registered what he had said and paused. “she’s uh- she’s a good friend.” she noted the dull glimmer in his eyes whenever he’d speak of this “y/n” but never brought it up. she didn’t want to spoil her second chance with him.

but overtime it seemed to spoil itself. steve and peggy seemed to have little in common, which often led to disagreements. another thing he began to notice overtime was how much he missed little things about the future. modern technology, the internet and most importantly, you.

how could he have left? you were happy together, had so much in common despite being born in two separate time periods. he understood your feelings and you understood his and he missed everything about you. he thought going back to his past would have been exciting and amazing but nothing was exciting without you next to him.

I don't think that love's completely off the table

he needed to come home to you.

he remembered about dr.pym’s lab and knew that with what he’d learned with tony and bruce, he could maybe manage to pull it off. steve didn’t care how long it would take. he just wanted you in his arms again.

Will you be there? (Yes, I will be there for you)

Can I still love you? (Yes, I been hurt before, before)

Not yet healed or ready (Not ready)

Should I be goin' too steady? (Too steady, no, no)

Just wanna know is love completely off the table?

of course there was still uncertainty while he worked through his plan. would you take him back? what if you’d moved on in the time he was gone? did you still love him? he hoped you were okay at least, that you found a way to be happy while he was gone. he explained to peggy what he wished to do and although she was upset to have him leave again, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him.

it took him three months to work it out along with the help of howard stark. and with a new determination, steve was excited to see you. standing on the platform, he pulled out his compass and opened it to look at a picture of you that had replaced peggy’s and gave a sad smile. “i’m coming home” he whispered.

So can you hold me?

If I let you, can you prove it to me? (Oh, no-no, no)

when steve returned to the present, he found the area surrounding the machine empty. everything was quiet save for the whirring the platform settling down. it didn’t look too different to when he had left but long enough for him to see the difference in the greenery. the trees looked taller and the grass that surrounded the area was longer, so he could only assume it had been quite some time for you. looking around the outside of the cabin, he found a way inside and managed to find the keys to one of tony’s cars. his drive back to the city went by in a blur, his mind too caught up in thinking of you. he was relieved to arrive at the compound and see it hadn’t changed much. there were still agents training outside and people coming in and out of the building. parking the car right in front, he took a deep breath and marched right inside, paying no attention to the people’s shocked faces and whispered, obviously bewildered to see the captain back after they learned he had gone back to the past. not wanting to wait for the elevators, he decided to take the stairs, wasting no time in going towards the residential floor you all had called home. in the midst of his quick actions, he almost didn’t hear a voice that was calling his name.

“steve?”

he turned to see bucky. confusion etched on his face. his hair was the first thing steve noticed, it was way shorter than before. he was snapped out of it when he remembered his mission to find you

“bucky! y/n. where’s y/n?” steve questioned. steve was glad to see his face, but bucky couldn’t say the same for himself. bucky didn’t know how to feel after seeing his friend. what the hell was he doing here?

“bucky please i need to see her!!” steve pleaded and as much as bucky wished it were that simple, he knew it wasn’t. it had been almost a year for them of being without steve and in that time bucky had helped to piece your life back together. you still had your bad days but he was still proud to say that with his help you were finally getting over him. he didn’t want all that time and effort to go down the drain if you saw steve, only to have him leave again. bucky shared his worries with him while steve continued pleading for you.

“bucky i SWEAR. i know it was a mistake but i promise i’m not leaving. i miss her buck just please i need her back!” steve professed. when bucky opened his mouth to object again he was interrupted by your voice as you walked out to the stairwell. “bucky? you okay? i heard some yelli-“ you froze. both men looked at you with wide eyes.

'Cause I need you to calm me down, babe

Gotta get out of my head (Oh, woah)

Tryna be here from this bed (Oh)

Just wanna know, just wanna know, know, know, baby (Hey)

steve was the first to speak. “hey n/n.” he said carefully, he could see the fear in your face and didn’t want to scare you away. he took a step towards you and that’s when you snapped out of your daze. you took in a sharp breath and a step back. there’s no way, you thought. you were imagining things. he wasn’t here. this wasn’t real. but then he reached and held your hand and the familiar warmth he gave off was enough to confirm the reality. it really was him. you let out a shaky breath and felt a tear run down your face. steve couldn’t take the wait anymore and pulled you tight against his body, you melting into him almost immediately. the smell was enough to make you choke on your tears.

“what are you doing here?” you asked him.

he gave a small teary smile. “told you i’d come back didn’t i?”

Can you touch it like you believe in it, baby? (Oh, hey)

Let me think you never gonna leave on me, baby

'Cause I ain't her and you ain't him, thankfully (Baby, don't leave)

But it's gon' be hard to let someone else in again (Woah)

Baby, baby (Woo-hoo)

steve was surprised that you had forgiven him so soon but you just couldn’t help it. he was back and you couldn’t be upset at him when he told you he’d never leave again. after all, he always kept his word one way of another. bucky left you two alone and you lead steve to the common room to catch up and figure out what would happen next. because looking back, steve left you for another woman and although you were grateful for his return, you didn’t know if continuing your relationship was the best option.

“steve how can i believe you? how do i know that you won’t think that this is a mistake and leave me again.” you confessed, sitting across from him.

Will you be there? (Will you be there? I'll still wait)

Can I still love you? (I'll still wait for you, babe, oh, no-no, no, can I still love you?)

Not yet healed or ready (Ooh, not ready)

Should I be goin' too steady? (No, no, ooh)

Just wanna know is love completely off the table, baby?

“i understand y/n.” he said. “and trust me when i say this doll, i’ll wait until you’re ready. and i’ll do everything i can to prove to you how sorry i am. i was so stupid for leaving but now i’m here and i can’t life a happy life unless you’re in it. i love you. i just want to know that this isn’t over.”

you put a hand on his cheek.

“trust me. it’s far from over.” you smiled at him.

I swear, I swear

I will wait for you whenever you need

Ooh, ooh

—————————————————

omg i’m so sorry this is so long i got way ahead of my self. but i hope you enjoyed!!

[sparetimeimagines]

Weakness | Bakugou Katsuki

tags; fluff, angst, hospital, ptsd

Part 1

Masterlist

He didn’t know how much longer they were going to keep you apart. His fingers were tapping. His body aching. His heart pounding.

He just wanted to see you. What was so difficult about that?

Another hour passed when he finally gave up.

The surgery was taking longer than he expected. How difficult could it be to sear someone up? The tissue is gone. The bone is gone.

The light indicating surgery is in session fades to off and immediately his attention is stolen, much like his heart those years ago.

“She was beautiful. Not the beautiful plastered on magazines and tv commercials. Beautiful like the flower. Organic. Delicate to the touch.”

From the moment Katsuki laid eyes on you, it frustrated him. He didn’t understand why you were so important. Why is it you out of everyone in the room that caught his attention? Some quirkless nobody.

“Hey Dumbass.” They were the first words you heard.

Bright lights, the anesthesia was wearing off and the machine let off a beat that was endless.

Those bold crimson eyes trace your body like they always had, but this time he felt different.

Guilt. Shame. He should have been there.

His hand raises but instantly he retreats.

How can he touch you? How can he deserve to feel your smooth skin under his callused finger tips?

Instead, he relies on his eyes.

They pay attention to every detail. The bruise on your cheek some of the bastard struck you. The burns on your arms from the tight rope he insisted on keeping you still. Bandaged up left hand that gives the illusion of a fist.

It was everything he feared. Well, at least you’re alive.

“Ka-” you start, but then realize your voices is weak. Maybe it’s not the best thing to speak right now. Instead, you watch him with your lazy eyes.

Instead of seeing the love in his eyes, you see hate. Disgust.

After all that time of waiting to see you -Begging to see you- he leaves.

The man you owe your life to storms out the room, slamming the door on his way, leaving you wondering what you did wrong. Your eyes travel down your body and you begin to remember everything that’s happened. Bit by bit, piece by piece you realize that there’s a part of your life that will never be the same again.

The nurses came in, adjusted your IVs and the doctor even made an appearance.

They were kind and generous with their time.

It started with the warnings. Like how you will have nerve damage. How you will still feel nerves in areas of your body where you shouldn’t. How you will never wear a wedding band on the proper finger.

That must’ve been the reason why Kacchan left.

But what they didn’t tell you is how to explain to someone that bad things happen when it’s not their fault.

The room went silent once you were alone despite the beeping from the machine.

Being left alone with your thoughts was the last thing you wanted right now.

When was he coming back?

Was Katsuki coming back?

The door opens with a knock, much softer and collected than anything Suki was capable of.

In walks the darkest of green hairs you’ve seen on a person with the heart the largest you’ll will ever find.

“Deku...”

He returns your weak smile ends step closer to the bedside.

“Y/N.“ His soft eyes welled up with tears however he clears his throat to hold him back. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” His hands slowly creep close to yours, trying not to irritate the IV.

It was a simple friendship you formed as children. Back then, you both were quirkless in a superhero world. It was something simple to bond over. You didn’t feel so alone.

“I see you’re covered in bruises.“ You crack a small joke just to lighten the tension, and a tear threatens to fall.“Aww Deku... don’t ever change.“ His soft face brings peace to mind for a brief second before you check back at the door, your face drops.

“I would never.“ Midoriya brings his soft smile to your attention until he notices something’s still wrong. His eyes glance down at your hand then back to your face which is bruised.

“Your hand…”

“Yeah, Deku“ you pause raising your left hand for the first time since surgery. Your eyes study each dressing that secures the casing meant for healing.

“They told me it’s never going to be the same again.“

They must be pushing some kind of drug to take away the pain...

“But I guess I already knew that... you know... since I was there when it happened.”

“I’m really sorry.“ He says closely watching the injured limb. “I should’ve been there for you. You must’ve been so scared.“

“I was.“

He doesn’t say anything for a short moment, time passes when one thing comes to mind.

“Midoriya.” You start, gathering the courage to ask him what you really wanted to say. “Did you see Kacchan?”

You pause for a moment yet he doesn’t say anything until his eyes match mine.

“Y-yeah.” He chokes. “He was running out as I came in.”

So he really did leave...

Midoriya sits in silence as you observe your hand.

“I don’t understand, Deku.” You start, watching the clock on the wall tick. “Why would he leave me?”

“Don’t think of it like that, Y/n. I think he’s just afraid.”

“Kacchan’s never been afraid, Deku.”

“I wouldn’t believe that, Y/N.”

“I don’t know what to believe.”

Yelling and loud commotions distract the conversation to the hallway.

Your eyes grow heavy from the medication as the yelling comes closer.

“Sir visiting hours at this time is for immediate family only. You-” The nurse is cut off by the harsh voice yelling in the hall.

“I am her only family.” He replies winded, passing the nurse to find Midoriya and you.

“Sir.” The nurse warns.

“Deku, what the hell are you doing here? Get lost, you Nerd.” He shoves past Midoriya, putting distance between the two of you.

The nurse stands in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“Visiting hours are over.”

Midoriya immediately abides by the rules while Katsuki refuses standing his ground.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“She needs her rest.”

Midoriya meets the nurse at the door and asks to speak with her outside the room leaving you two alone.

“I’m back. I’m sorry. I’m not leaving you again.” He reaches for your hand then hesitates seeing the IV.

“It’s ok, Suki.”

He notices your eyes and realizes you’re wearing down.

“Are you ok, Petal?” His voice softens while his touch is sensitive.

Your lips form into a firm line and you manage to move over.

“Lay with me tonight.” Weakly, you pat the uncomfortable mattress. “I don’t want to be alone.”

The blond grunts and climbs into the bed without hesitation, aware of your injuries and comfort.

His head against the pillow, he flattens his back enough to pull you into his arms.

“You’re my everything, Y/N.” He mumbles into your hair leaving his lips pressed against your forehead. “You make me weak.” He mumbles.

“I do what?” You must not be hearing this right.

“That’s not what I meant.” He sighs. “You’re my weakness.”

Bakugou presses his head atop yours and embraces his silence. His rough fingertips gently slide over the wounds randomly scattered across your skin.

“You know I went crazy trying to find you.“

For once he’s actually keeping his tone low. You weren’t sure if it was how he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s soft on the inside or if it’s something else. “I couldn’t sleep. There’s no way I could’ve relaxed knowing that bastard had you.“

He pauses brushing the hair out of your face. “I had to find you. There’s no one in this world that means as much to me as you do.“

At that moment it wasn’t the aggressive explosion everyone is used to.

At that moment his guard was down and all he saw was you.

“The media got word. They were trying to break in the hospital to see you. They want pictures of you with your wounds. I had to do something about it.” His voice turns into his aggression, his anger begins to make a comeback when you squeeze his hand.

“When I left. I forced them to leave. They were…” he struggles. “They were talking about your parents. Calling them fallen heroes. Said that bastard murdered your family... This was their chance for a shot of glory. I wasn’t gonna let them turn you in to nothing.”

There’s so many emotions going through his system; he can’t decide on which he wants to use.

Anger. Guilt. Disgust.

“I wanted to do this the right way. Lights, candles, by the water the way you like. Under the gazebo where you can see the stars. I wanted everything to be perfect.” He stops to look at your damaged hand. “But... now, I realize time is so valuable, and life is so vulnerable. You’re my family and you mean everything to me.” He starts to get choked, and even though you’re the one who needs help, you are the one who needs to be taken care of, YOU are the one who’s making sure he is ok.

“Su-“

“Let me finish!“ He chokes with a short fuse. “Let me finish.“ He repeats himself with a much softer voice, hardly over whisper. You look to him and he has a soft smile almost hidden behind his angry eyes.

“Petal, I’ve loved you since we were kids. Since we were so young we didn’t know what love was. When I couldn’t find you, I was devastated. I didn’t understand that you were everything I’ve ever wanted. When there was a chance that i would never see you again, I felt a part of me break.” His voice is choking once more. “Great now I sound like some nerd.” he chuckles sniffling away his tears.

“You bring out the side of me that’s so dangerous and I wanted nothing more than to see you smile. You scare me; and nothing scares me in this world.“ He gets frustrated and pulls out an object from his pocket.

“Look, I’m trying to say I love you. And I never wanna see anything happen to you. I know things have happened, and our lives may never be the same again but I’m willing to work at it if you are.”

From his pocket he exposes a black velvet box. It’s small in his hand but you couldn’t believe your eyes.

The beautiful diamond that sat in the ring was more than anything you could’ve ever asked for.

“I saw it and immediately thought of you. It’s you. It’s you.”

By now he’s sobbing. Like the diamond, unlike any thing you’ve ever seen before, the energy he’s giving off, everything that he said would’ve fooled you into believing he’s somebody else.

“Who are you?” You ask, looking from his face to his hands and back to his face again. He chokes and sits up straight.

“Your husband if you let me.”

The machine beside you begins to be wildly, and the nurse along with Midoriya who is outside we came rushing in, exposing the moment between you and Bakugo.

“Get out you nerd.” He yells Midoriya who stutters.

“N-no. I need to see what she says.” The moment of bravery from the green one has you confused. The ring in the blond’s hands and shocked look on the green one’s face leaves you speechless.

“Well what do you say?“ Bakugou flushes from his cheeks and all you can do is nod.

“I promise you. When everything gets straightened out, I’ll make you the happiest person in the world.”

[patchwork-panda]

“I won’t tell a soul” (BSD Nakahara Chuuya x Reader #3. Complete!)

“Title: “I won’t tell anybody”/“誰にも言わない”  Genre: Romance Rating: PG-13 for alcohol usage and mild violence/language and a kiss scene. /////>w<;; Reader-insert is written as femme and 20+ Plot: You meet Chuuya at a wine bar and over time, you become close. Your regular meetings become something you both enjoy so when Chuuya stops visiting for several weeks, you begin to worry... When you meet again, you learn the truth... But do you care? Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. title is reference to new Utada Hikaru single                 

CW: street harassment, physical violence

AKA Chuuya saves reader and you get a kiss/get together :3

AO3 link for full fic: HERE

Part 1 Here Part 2 Here                                        

It’s well past last call when you leave. 

You ended up staying until past closing and, perhaps out of a feeling of guilt, the mustachioed bartender decided not to kick you out.

Because his “feeling” had been wrong.

Chuuya hadn’t come.

The bartender had offered to call you a cab but you adamantly refused. You wanted a nice long walk in the cool night air, which would hopefully clear your senses a little. You don’t want to go to bed tonight thinking about Chuuya or you might just wake up crying.

Because this was the last night.

No more.

You needed to move on.

As you leave the bar, you see a group of men, a bunch of hoodlums by the look of it, gathered near the alleyway to your far right. One or two of them give you an appraising look (you wish your skirt were longer but you make no move to tug it down) and to your disgust, another whispers something into the ear of yet another of their companions, who suddenly leers at you.

Ugh.

You keep your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you walk past them, hoping to get away with nothing more than a wolf whistle but alas, it is not to be. One of them, a man with a scar over his eye, calls out to you.

“Hey, hey you! Lady!”

You roll your eyes and ignore him. You hated running into creeps like this in the daytime as it was. Nighttime is so much worse.

Not to be deterred, he runs after you and stops and slows once he’s caught up.

“Haven’t we seen you before?” he asks, looking you up and down. You suddenly regret wearing heels. You don’t answer but he acts as if you have.

“Yeah, I remember you. You’re here at that bar every Friday, aren’t you? Always sitting there at the counter with that short fellow, the one with the fancy hat and the jacket draped over his shoulders. Chuuya-san, you called him, right?”

You keep walking and scowl when Chuuya’s name crosses his lips. Scum like this shouldn’t have the right to talk about Chuuya like that, much less exist in the same world as him. And how dare this man call Chuuya short when he wasn’t more than a few centimeters taller than either of you.

“Hey, Missy.”

He grabs your shoulder. His tone is suddenly menacing.

“I’m talking to you here.”

“Let go of me!” you snap, tearing your shoulder away.

You turn to walk in the opposite direction but his companions are blocking the way back. In fact, they’re blocking every possible escape route you have. You spin around in a circle, only to come face to face with the man who insists on speaking with you. He smiles and you curse.

“Shit...”

He raises his scarred eyebrow. He looks amused.

“There’s no need for language like that, Missy,” he says, his tone every bit as patronizing as it is threatening. “We just want to talk to you. You see, we’re looking for ‘Chuuya-san.’ Been looking for him, in fact, for a long, long time now and we’re hoping that you can maybe help us find him. You see, we owe him a favor...”

“Well, you’re talking to the wrong person,” you spit acidly, “I haven’t seen him for several months now and even if I wanted to help you find him--which I don’t--”

You voice cracks and you swallow heavily. You hate that you’ve become so upset but that’s what the mere mention of Chuuya’s name did to you tonight. You were really hoping the bartender was right and you were absolutely crushed when he wasn’t.

“I don’t even have his phone number.”

You throw your hands up into the air, as if to indicate that you’d given up. 

“So why don’t you just let me go home and we’ll forget that this whole conversation ever happened?”

The man looks at you. Stunned. Then he starts laughing.

As one, his crew starts laughing at you as well and you feel your cheeks flush in sudden rage and embarrassment.

“Look at that, she just ordered me around, didn’t she?” the man chortles, turning to his companions as if he’d just told a very funny joke. “A real spitfire, aren’t you? And a looker to boot! No wonder he spends so much time with you.”

He snaps his fingers and at once, two of his men come forward and seize you by the arms. You try to fight them off but their arms are twice as thick as yours and you’re still a little tipsy from the wine.

“Why don’t you come with us, little Missy? We’d like to have a chat with you.”

“Hey!” you snap, “Get your hands off me!”

“See, your friend, Chuuya-san,” the man says, a note of humor sneaking into his voice as he copies the way you say Chuuya’s name. “He and that pesky Port Mafia he works for... have been making things difficult for us smaller gangs in Yokohama.”

His eyes narrow.

“Unnecessarily so.”

They start dragging you away. Your efforts to fight back seem meaningless. Panic rises in your throat. You should’ve taken the bartender’s offer of hailing a cab.

“Hey! Hey!!”

You struggle and fight harder but it’s no use.

“And our boss gets the feeling they’re going to be a lot more willing to negotiate with us,” the man continues, following you as you’re pulled backwards by the arms. “If we have a proper bargaining chip.”

His lip curls into that disgusting leer.

“Especially that midget. Can’t wait to see his face after he sees you missing a few fingers.”

You stiffen. Your eyes narrow.

“You asshole...” you growl.

You shoot him a piercing glare.

How dare he talk about Chuuya--your Chuuya--like that. 

“Keep Chuuya’s name out of your fucking mouth,” you spit, “you piece of shit--”

He silences you with a slap across the face and you stumble. The men behind you keep holding you up. Your cheek stings.

“Stupid bitch.”

He laughs and the men laugh with him.

“We’ll see how brave you are after we cut you up.”

As you continue to struggle, they drag you into the alley.

Tears of helpless rage fill your eyes. This was stupid. You were stupid. You should’ve just stayed away like your coworker said.

Now these assholes were going to take you away, do who-knew-what to you, and because of your own foolishness, you would never get to see Chuuya again.

You bite your lip.

Chuuya...

You’re trying not to cry.

Help me...

Just then, a harsh voice cuts through the night. It’s quiet but it rings with authority.

And barely suppressed rage.

“Let go of her.”

You stop struggling immediately. You’d know that voice anywhere.

As one, you and the men gripping you by the arms turn to look down the alleyway, where you see a lone figure standing there at the very end of the street. He is a black shape outlined against the backdrop of the downtown streets, his dark clothes bathed in the harsh blue and red glow of signs made of neon lights. His face is in shadow, but...

The lone figure wears a fancy black hat and a jacket draped over both shoulders.

Chuuya.

“Chuuya-san...!”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

You want to say more. You want to call out to him, loud enough for him to actually hear but for some reason you cannot. Something’s wrong with him tonight. His very presence is unnerving and without knowing why, you begin to tremble.

“Well, look who’s here,” the man with the scar crows.

He takes a knife out of his pocket.

“Nakahara Chuuya. We’ve been looking for you. Come with us. Our boss needs to have a little talk with you. And if you don’t...”

He holds the knife at your throat. You hold your breath as it presses against your flesh.

“The Missy here gets it.”

Chuuya steps forward and out of the shadows and at once, you know why you’re suddenly afraid. You feel the men holding your arms falter.

There’s an odd red glow around Chuuya, around his entire outline. As he steps forward, his long black jacket begins to lift off his shoulders in an unseen wind, billowing around him like a cape. You think you hear something like a dull roar echoing throughout the alleyway and when Chuuya looks up, his gaze is fierce. His eyes burn like twin blue flames in the night.

This isn’t the same Chuuya who’d flirted with you at the bar.

This man is something else.

He continues towards you.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Chuuya snarls, his teeth bared.

When his foot hits the pavement, it cracks underfoot. Rubble rises into the air all around him, glowing red like the aura around Chuuya’s body.

“Get.”

Another step forward. The pavement breaks yet again. It’s as if Chuuya’s weight has increased threefold when he took that second step towards you.

“Your.”

The roaring sound grows louder. More rubble rises into the air.

“Filthy.”

Chuuya’s footsteps grow heavier. He’s now leaving craters in his wake. You don’t understand how it’s happening but the rubble is now orbiting around his body like the rings of a planet.

“Hands.”

The men loosen their hold on you but they haven’t let go. Chuuya sees this and his eyes seem to glow more fiercely in the dark. He looks utterly terrifying.

“Off.”

Chuuya grabs a handful of the rubble around him and draws his hand back. He steps into a pool of dim red light and his body looks like it’s bathed in blood.

“My woman.”

He takes out a stone, flips it into the air like a coin and flicks it with his thumb.

You don’t even see it move.

There’s just a brief whistling sound and a crack.

The arm of the scarred man--the arm holding a knife to your throat--explodes in a shower of blood. Some of it splatters the front of your dress. You’re so shocked, you don’t even scream.

The man next to you, however, does.

He lets out a howl of pain, clutching his ruined arm and dropping to the his knees, his knife clattering uselessly to the ground in front of you. He’s crying and screaming about his arm, blood gushing from the stump of his elbow and into the street. The puddle inches towards your shoes.

The men holding you drop your arms and tear off into the night--the entire crew goes running back towards the street, leaving you in the middle of the alleyway between them and Chuuya.

Chuuya’s bright blue eyes narrow and he repeats his earlier movement, flicking several more stones towards the men in the alleyway with deadly precision. One by one, the men drop to the ground, their screams cut short. The last one is quicker on his feet than his companions and is just about to round the corner when Chuuya crouches down and leaps into the air.

You watch in awe, turning to follow his movements as he soars over you, gracefully arcing through the sky, his body suddenly as light as a feather. The stones follow him, continuing to orbit around him in a ring like a miniature belt of asteroids. With one flick of his wrist, several rocket towards the man who’s almost made it into the street. You turn your face away as you hear the dull, wet squelching of the stones tearing through his body, splattering his organs on the nearby buildings and sidewalk.

The man next to you is still crying and clutching his arm. He rushes past you, desperate to escape.

You can’t see Chuuya, but you know where he is.

You start towards his location but within moments, he’s in the sky again. You whirl around to see him several paces behind you, standing before the man whose arm he destroyed.

He grabs the man by the throat and slams him against the wall. Cracks appear in the drywall behind his body. Miraculously, he doesn’t pass out.

“You tell your boss,” Chuuya hisses, his tone low and menacing, “that if you try this shit again, I’ll send what’s left of his cronies back to him in a fucking bento box.”

He slams the man against the wall again.

“If you’ve got business with me or with the Port Mafia, then it stays with us. You got that?”

The man nods, tears streaming down his face.

Chuuya lets go of him at last and he crumples to the ground in a heap.

Scowling, Chuuya turns to you at last, the glow in his blue eyes suddenly fading as the red-tinted aura around him dissipates. Behind him, the scarred man scrambles to his feet and scampers off into the night.

“Chuuya--” you start but he is in no mood to let you finish.

“You,” Chuuya growls, stalking forward. “What were you doing out here so late at night? Are you an idiot? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

You’re stunned. After all this time, he’s angry?

“I came looking for you,” you protest, equally bewildered and hurt by the sheer anger in his voice. “I haven’t seen you in so long and--and you never gave me a single way to find you--Chuuya, I--”

“Why would you do that?!” he roars, slamming his fist against the wall.

No crater appears, but the drywall cracks.

Chuuya grits his teeth. He seems to have difficulty looking at you. He drops his gaze and the brim of his hat falls over his eyes, obscuring his face. Bits of drywall crumble down around his gloved hand. His fist is shaking.

“Why would you try to find me?” he asks, his voice hushed.

He’s asking you this? Why is he asking you this?

“Because...”

Your hands clench into fists when Chuuya does not not look up.

Fuck.

You bite your lip, hard, so that you don’t cry.

After all this time, he won’t even look at you? After everything you’ve been through? After all this??

“You really don’t get it?” you ask quietly, holding back those hot, bitter tears.

Chuuya doesn’t answer. Still doesn’t look up.

Why won’t he look at you?

It makes you angry. Angrier than you’ve been in years. You want to scream.

“You want to know why I came looking for you?” you ask bitterly.

Chuuya inclines his head slightly, which you take to be a nod. Pissed, you take a step towards him.

“It’s because I missed you, you fucking dumbass!”

Chuuya twitches violently.

He looks up, a mixture of shock and wonder clearly visible in the depths of his deep blue eyes. He looks mesmerized by you.

He’s not moving so you take another step towards him, suddenly feeling like you’re approaching a skittish alley cat. You hold out your hands when you speak.

“Don’t you understand, Chuuya-san? I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you so bad.”

You don’t care that he just maimed or even killed several people in front of you, that he has power beyond imagining and could turn his Gift on you if he so wished. He killed those men to save you.

To you, he was still Chuuya-san.

He was your Chuuya.

“I came looking for you... because you never even said goodbye. I didn’t have your phone number, or address. I don’t even know where you work or what your last name is. Chuuya, I had no way of contacting you.”

“That was the whole point,” Chuuya interrupts but you talk over him.

“So when I heard you might be here tonight,” you say, loud enough that he has to stop talking. “I had to come. I had to, you understand?”

Chuuya falls silent. His expression is contemplative, with an undercurrent of pain. His deep blue eyes are fully focused on you.

It was the same face he made the night he left the bar all those months ago.

“Chuuya-san...”

You swallow, ready to ask the question you’re afraid to hear the answer to.

“Didn’t you want to see me, too?”

But Chuuya doesn’t answer. Hot pinpricks sting your eyes. Shit. You’re going to cry.

“I see,” you say stiffly.

You gather your jacket more tightly about your body, preparing to leave.

“Sorry to have bothered you.”

You’re about to turn around and go when you see Chuuya’s fist tightening. With a start, you see his jaw tensing up. He’s gritting his teeth too. But he still doesn’t speak. You sigh.

“Goodbye,” you whisper. “Chuuya--”

“Wait.”

Chuuya rushes forward and before you can finish speaking, he’s gathered you in his arms in a fierce hug. His grip on you is so tight that you can hardly breathe.

“I did,” he whispers.

His voice is so small you can barely hear it.

“I wanted to see you too.”

“Chuuya-san...”

“The barkeep told me everything,” he growls. “He told me that you’ve been coming here almost every Friday night at our usual time. That you’ve been looking for me.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder and you reach up to comfort him. You gently pat his back.

“And waiting.”

“Chuuya-san.”

You swallow thickly.

“Tell me the truth. Why didn’t you want me looking for you? Are you...?”

You feel his arms around you tensing. He knows what you’re about to ask.

“Are you really with the Port Mafia?”

For a long, heavy moment, Chuuya doesn’t answer. But when he does, his voice sounds slightly hoarse.

“I am.”

As he speaks, you can feel his grip around you tightening, his arms wrapping more securely around your shoulders and waist, as if letting go of you would mean letting go of you for good.

“Chuuya-san...” 

Your fingers slowly curl into fists against his chest and the expensive fabric of his jacket wrinkles beneath your touch.

“My full name is Nakahara Chuuya,” he whispers against your hair. “And I’m not just any member of the Port Mafia. I’m one of the executives.”

Involuntarily, you stiffen and the instant he feels your fingers twitch against his chest, Chuuya groans.

“I knew this would happen. I knew it would. Fuck.”

His arms loosen and unfold from around you. He’s pulling away.

But before he can, you reach out.

“Wait, Chuuya! Don’t go!”

You grab fistfuls of his jacket and pull on it to stop him from leaving. You bury your face in his shoulder and he stops short. You feel his sharp intake of breath.

“Please,” you whisper. “Don’t leave again.”

“H-hey...”

Chuuya’s voice is flustered and unsteady. But he doesn’t move away.

“I kept thinking about it, you know...” you mumble, closing your eyes as you feel Chuuya’s black-gloved hand smoothing down your hair.

“About the way you look when you’re sitting there at the bar with me. The way you laugh when we talk. The way you look at me when we’re together. You were wonderful. Chuuya-san... You’re not a bad person, I know you’re not.”

“But I’m not a good guy,” Chuuya insists.

He drops his hand. Now he’s just standing there as you continue to cling to him. You lift your head and look right into his eyes, which widen in sudden surprise.

“I don’t care whether Chuuya-san is a good guy or a bad guy!” you exclaim. “All I know is... I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as your smile.”

Chuuya stiffens. You can barely feel him breathing.

“You...” he starts, and the emotion in his voice is enough to bring tears to your eyes. “You really think that?”

You nod vigorously.

“Yes. Yes, I do. I think about you all the time... Chuuya.”

I care about you...

He wraps his arms around you and, wordlessly, you do the same. For a moment, you just stand there together, locked in a silent embrace in the middle of this dark, bloodstained alleyway. You nestle your face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like the subtle musk and spice of an expensive cologne, like roses and gun smoke and something more, something uniquely Chuuya...

Finally he speaks.

“I can’t leave the Port Mafia, you know,” he says in an undertone, his fingers stroking through your hair.

“I know.”

In response, you hold him tighter. There’s a subtle wrenching in your gut, but you won’t let go.

“I’m not asking you to. It’s fine.”

“This isn’t going to be the last time this happens,” Chuuya protests, “You could get hurt.”

“I said it’s okay,” you insist. “Just...”

You swallow with some difficulty. You know what you’re asking and you know how selfish it is... but you can’t let go of him.

“Just let me stay by your side.”

You press yourself further into him. His body is warm, still humming with some kind of energy, but beneath that well-fitted vest, you can feel his heart beating against yours.

“Please.”

Time passes. You stay like this for what feels like hours but you aren’t willing to let go. Neither, it seems, is Chuuya. Finally, he sighs.

“I knew you were special from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he says, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. You can feel the low rumble of his silent laughter travel through his compact frame and despite your worry, you feel better.

“I just didn’t realize,” Chuuya murmurs, “that ‘special’ meant ‘crazy.’“

“If I’m crazy,” you laugh, “then it’s only because I’ve gone crazy for you.”

The words are out of your mouth before you even realize what you’ve said and upon hearing you, Chuuya lets out a bark of a laugh.

“You,” he cackles, “you really are something, you know that?”

His laughter fading, Chuuya loosens his hold on you. He lets you pull back just enough so that he can see your face but not enough that you can move out of his arms--not that you want to. Even in the dim lighting in this dingy alleyway, Chuuya looks so beautiful up close. His deep blue eyes gleam brightly as they stare into yours and without thinking about it, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips.

And then Chuuya smiles. Really smiles.

His grin is toothy and somewhat lopsided with obvious delight, and yet, his expression still doesn’t lose any of that cool, self-assured energy you’ve come to associate with Chuuya and only Chuuya.

You smile back. Your body grows warm.

Yes. This is the smile you wanted to see. The smile you’d missed so much for the last few months that it nearly killed you to think that you might not see it again. But right now, Chuuya’s smile is different. Good different.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him looking quite so happy before.

“Chuuya...”

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as one of his hands slides down to your waist. Chuuya places two black-gloved fingers beneath your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Makes sense that you would be something special,” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips. “You are mine, after all.”

You close your eyes and the distance between you disappears. Chuuya’s lips are soft and sweet as they move against yours and you feel your breath hitch in your throat as his tongue ghosts over your upper lip. He feels so good and you cling to him as he deepens the kiss, pressing your body to his so tightly, you half wonder if you might be crushed by his strength.

But you like it.

You like the feel of his arms around your body, the way he grips you so tightly that his fingers dimple your flesh, the way he tastes--no wine could ever be as intoxicating as the man called Nakahara Chuuya...

When you come up for air at last, you’re both breathless.

”Wow,” Chuuya breathes, sounding just as dazed as you feel, “You’re... You’re a really good kisser...”

“So are you,” is all you manage to gasp before he dives back in for more.

As the moon rises high in the sky above you, you part at last, flushed and giddy and dizzy with joy. Chuuya takes your hand and leads you out of the alleyway, back to the bar you thought was closed.

He raps on the door with one black-gloved hand, the other tightly gripping yours, and turns back to shoot you that signature cocky grin when that same mustachioed bartender opens the door at last.

“I think it’s time we call you that cab,” Chuuya laughs as he pulls you inside the warmth of the empty room. “But I’ll meet you here again tomorrow, okay? Same time as usual.”

You nod. You’re smiling so hard it almost hurts but you’re just so happy...!

“It’s a date,” you say, to which Chuuya’s grin grows only wider. “So don’t go blowing me off this time.”

Laughing, he tugs you back towards him and presses another kiss to your lips, his grin returning as soon as he pulls away. His blue eyes shine like a bright, cloudless sky.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, holding you close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[sagedgeek]

A Foundling

Part 3 of Whispers of Fate (A Rey Djarin fic)

Summary: The tribe doesn’t agree with Din’s decision. It’s time for him to accept this new responsibility, despite his effort to avoid it.

Rating: Gen (Platonic)

Word Count: 4.9k

Previous Chapter ~ Masterlist ~ Next Chapter

Din rubs his thumb over the smooth surface of the beskar ingot he held in his hand. He stood outside the entrance to the covert, staring at the cloth draped over the entrance as he contemplated whether he should come back another time after Rey had more time to grow used to the others. Then again, she might’ve calmed down soon after he left the day prior.

He's put this off for an entire day already… much longer than he should have. He could be halfway to Arvala by now if he had simply left right after receiving his assignment. But his worry and insecurity had got the best of him and he spent the better part of the day doing menial repairs to his ship and stocking up on rations and other essentials he’s burned through as he continuously fretted over returning to the covert to see how Rey was adjusting. And maybe even perhaps offer a proper fairwell with a promise to return any word he may find about her parents.

Soon after he left, he had regretted not staying a bit longer to help her adjust. It was a startling change in environment for her, being dumped into a maze of dark sewers surrounded by masked faces of unfamiliar characters. He’d been through the same affair when he was brought to the Mandalorians, but there were many there more than willing to care for him and nurture him until he was able to begin his training, and he knows that’s what Rey needed. He never had a proper buir or Mandalorian family of his own, and the closest he had to one was the man who had saved him. He died soon after Din began his training, but the tribe still raised him alongside the other Foundlings, as if he was one of their own.

Times were different now. Foundlings were rare and very special to the tribe, even more so than before. There were many practiced Mandalorian mothers and fathers in the covert that would be more than willing to take in such a promising young child as Rey and be a much better caretaker to her than Din himself. She needed the support and stability that he could never offer her, but still… that didn’t ease the guilt.

This morning is when he had made his decision. He was never one to loiter, and he never dallied when it came to a job, yet this time he felt a pull keeping him grounded on this ashy planet. So, he figured it would be best to make quick work of this and be on his way to rid himself of these distractions. One visit to the armorer and a couple questions of the girl’s wellbeing and that would be all. No strings attached.

He pulls the drapes back and begins his descent to the underground tunnels, and once he’s passed through the first threshold, he’s immediately stopped by a large hand extending from the shadows and landing on his chest. His first instinct is to attack before his opponent can exploit the well-executed surprise, but patience and reason remind him he’s in the covert and there were no enemies down here.

So, he simply raises his hand to clasp down on the gloved wrist on his chest in warning.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Paz replied with a gruff and irritated tone, as he stepped from the dark shadows. “It will upset the child again.”

Din turns his head to look up at the taller Mandalorian. Paz has been a close companion of his since he was young, and still one of many he considers to be a trusted friend.

“I didn’t come to see her,” he lied.

“You should’ve taken her with you,” Paz snaps right back at him; never one to beat around the bush. “She is a Foundling, and she is scared. She doesn’t trust us. You should’ve stayed at least until she grew comfortable.”

Din grips Paz’s wrist even tighter pulling it away from his chest plate with a scowl. “I have a job. It is not safe for her.”

“She is a fighter,” Paz counters.

Din pushes away from him, moving further through the halls to try and put an end to the discussion. Paz follows him though, continuing with his lecture which Din tries to ignore. “She has tried running three times since you left and fought Gutt and Ovod with a staff she stole from the armory. We had to lock her away with the healer, away from the other children.”

“She will grow used to you all here,” Din replied, “just like she did me.”

“Don’t be so sure of that Djarin. She’s as bull-headed as you. Atin Djarin,” Paz mutters the familiar exclamation under his breath and Din smirks beneath the helmet. Paz was most definitely right, Rey was quite stubborn from what he could tell so far.

Paz followed him to the armorer’s forge, loitering around by the entrance as Din’s new pauldron was crafted out of his newly acquired beskar.

“This is extremely generous,” the armorer states as the molten beskar fits into the mold. “The excess will sponsor many foundlings… including the new adiik you brought to us.”

“That’s good.” He can feel the strong glare of Paz burning into the back of his helmet. “She will make a powerful Mandalorian.”

“That she will,” the armorer agrees.

When the pauldron is finished, she approaches and attaches it to his body stocking. “The little one has caused quite the ruckus down here,” she announces while taking a single step away from him to admire her work.

“So, I’ve been told,” Din stands, turning to retrieve his Amban rifle that he’d propped against the wall when he arrived.

“She has nearly been successful in leaving the covert herself… had she been she would have exposed the location of the tribe.”

Din pauses, back still to her and he turns around slowly.

“Most Foundlings are not so fierce. Where does she come from?”

He turns to her, ignoring the pointed nod of his helmet that Paz directs towards him. “I found her on a backwater skug hole called Jakku. She was a slave scrapper for two years after her parents abandoned her there.”

The armorer nods once and turns back towards the smelter. “She is strong, but she will need proper guidance and training.”

“Yes,” Din agrees. That is exactly why he brought her here.

She turns back to face him, now several feet away and her hands clasped behind her back. “She will not find that here.”

Din takes a startled step towards her. “What do you mean?”

“She does not trust easily, and she will have no trust for us that much is clear. We were not the ones to save her, and she will grow to resent the tribe. Any training we will provide to her as we would a Foundling would prove as a danger to the tribe and the rest of the Foundlings. The anger and desperation I sense in her will only give more strength; a corrupted strength absent of honor or trust. I’ve seen it happen twice before. Neither ended well for Mandalor. and just like them she will grow to hate the Mandalorians for stealing her from her home twice over.”

“Twice?”

“You, Djarin. You were her second home whether you may see it that way or not.”

“She has only known me for a short time. That’s not possible.”

“She was abandoned as a young child Djarin… by parents who may or may not have loved her. Care, stability, and trust has been absent most of her young life, and you were the first to give it to her after many years of imposed independence and suffering. It was inevitable for her to form such a strong attachment. And it is very well that after you left her here, she will never care to trust anyone again. In her eyes, you were as her new father. Another father who abandoned her.”

“I cannot care for a Foundling,” Din reiterates desperately. He cannot care for a Foundling. “It is too dangerous.”

“So, it is your job to protect her.”

“I can’t--”

“You will.” Paz steps in, voice strong and undeterred. “The Foundling has chosen you and it would be dishonorable to decline. This is the way.”

“This is the way,” the armorer speaks in response, and then both turn towards him expectantly.

Din hesitates, feeling a surge of panic overcome him. He had no choice… this was the way. It was only a technicality, but one that left him no choice. And by denying this responsibility, he would in a sense be abandoning his own child, which by extension would be breaking his creed. Dar’manda.

“This is the way.”

The armorer nods. “Good. Now the child has no need to know you did not request this privilege. You will raise her as your own, teach her the ways of Mandalor, and when she comes of age, she will have the choice to vow and accept the creed. Vizla will take you to where she’s being held.”

So, Paz leads Din further into the covert, past several gatherings of his tribe members and to a barred door Din knows to be the infirmary. He’d been a consistent guest to Xiyu during his early days of bounty hunting.

“Was she hurt?” Din asked.

Paz ignores him and lifts the latch of the heavy door to push it open.

“Xiyu, Rey’s buir is here for her. Thank you for watching over her.” Paz tells the tribe healer sitting beside the cot Rey had curled herself up on.

The older Mandalorian stands slowly and she makes her way towards the door with a small nod of her head. “That is good. She was not doing well. She is no longer angry... just sad and tired.” She pauses when she notices Din. “Djarin? You?”

He nods his head. There was no need in denying it anymore.

The older woman looks at him with a nod of approval. “She will do good for you Djarin.” Then she walks away without another word, and Paz makes a gesture for him to enter the room ahead of him.

“Kid,” Din speaks slowly, clearing his throat as he approaches the cot. He felt nervous and frustrated. He had no clue how to care for a child, and absolutely no desire to learn, but now he had to. There were so many things he needed to change and add to the Crest to fit her needs…

She recoils at his voice, pulling her face to her knees and hugging them close. She was still wearing his old tunic and had not changed into the new clothes he bought for her. They sat lying on a platform beside the cot, along with a few added accessories courtesy of the rest of the tribe.

“Rey, it’s time to go.”

She shakes her head stiffly, back still facing the two Mandalorians. “I don’t wanna go anywhere with you,” she bites out with a nasty growl.

“Would you rather stay here then?” Din counters with a scoff.

Din can tell by the squaring of her shoulders that she found herself in a bit of deadlock and she mutters something under her breath which he could barely here.

“Where you gonna drop me off this time, Mando?” She says his name like it’s a curse in her mouth.

“He wants to take you with him,” Paz steps in, approaching the cot and effectively pushing Din out of the way to avoid the tension and anger from progressing any further. Apparently, having two frustrated, stubborn blockheads in the same room would not spawn a peaceful interaction.

Rey turns to look up at Paz, eyes rimmed red and puffy. She doesn’t look at Din. “Why?” She asks him, tears evident in her voice.

“Because you belong with him.” Paz takes her hand gently and helps her sit up on the cot. He’d always been particularly fond of children, ever since their teenage years. He did well with them… unlike Din. “Now let’s get you changed into those new clothes so you can be on your way verd’ika, yeah?”

She nods softly, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand and sniffling lightly. Paz gently lifts her from the cot and into his arms. Rey wraps her arms around his neck and drops her forehead against the large man’s shoulder which has Din scoffing scornfully.

Bantha shit!

Why isn’t Paz the one caring for the child?? He was obviously much better suited for a Foundling.

Paz must sense his glare and he turns towards him with the child in one arm as he scoops up her clothes in the other. He tilts his helmet, lifting the chin just enough so Din won’t mistake it for affection or curiosity, but as the challenge it was.

“Would you prefer to carry her?”

Din frowns. No, he’d rather not.

His fingers twitch and tense as he squeezes them together.

“She’s perfectly capable of walking on her own.”

The statement doesn’t please Paz, that much was clear, as he shoulders past Din and exits the room. He leads them towards a private area and sets Rey down on her feet. He’s squatted in front of her, holding out each item of clothing to her.

“Do you need any help? I can call Xiyu.”

She shook her head and took the clothes from him, retreating into the private room to change.

“She seemed awfully fond of you,” Din muttered once the thick curtain was pulled closed.

Paz turned to look at him. “The last I saw her she nearly tore my helmet after she knocked me on my back. That was the first I’d seen her act civil.”

Rey steps out from behind the curtain, wearing her new clothes. It fit her nicely. She wore a dark grey long tunic that went to midthigh sinched by a nice brown leather belt around her waist which had several accessories for attachments similar to Din’s. Over it she wore sleeveless vest with a high collar. And of course, the tan utility trousers and sturdy leather boots. She came out holding her old clothes to her chest shyly. Her hair was down, no longer in its braid and she looked up at Din with wide eyes and a sad frown.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, standing right in front of him. “I’m sorry I asked so many questions. I won’t anymore. I promise.” She shuffles closer to him, pressing her forehead against the soft padding below his cuirass.

Din sighed in resignation and placed his hand atop her head, gently petting her long brown hair to offer some sort of comfort.

“Don’t apologize for being curious,” he instructs softly.

She steps away from him, staring up into his visor with shiny eyes all the while. Then she turns to look over at Paz. “I’m sorry for being mean to you and everyone else.”

“There’s no need to worry about it verd’ika.” Rey smiles at him, seeming to be much less forlorn than before.

“Come,” Din says, ready to get back to his ship and get on his way. He gestures for Rey to begin walking in front of him, then turns his head to face Paz. “I’ll return soon.”

Rey doesn’t chatter his ear off as they walk back to the Crest. She doesn’t even grab onto his cloak as they march through the busy streets of Nevarro. Even once they’re sailing out the atmosphere and into the empty cavern of space, Rey had yet to express any excitement or curiosity. It was completely silent in the cockpit. She sat quietly in her chair, staring out at the stars without so much a word.

“Kid,” Din starts, unsure of what he even wanted to ask, “Is everything alright?”

He turns his head so he can peek over his shoulder at her, and she only shrugs her shoulders, pulling the blanket bunched in her hands over her nose.

Din spins in his chair to face her and she flinches away from him at the sudden movement.

“Rey.”

She looks at him with big eyes from underneath the hem of her blanket. “I-I…” she starts. “Are you taking me back to Jakku now?”

Din tilts his head at her in confusion. “No. You’re staying with me.”

“But-but I thought—”

Din spins his chair back around. “No, I’m not taking you back there end of story. There’s no one to look out for you there. It isn’t safe.”

There are a couple moments of silence and Din thinks maybe Rey got the point. “I-I didn’t mean I wanted to go back…” she replies, her voice almost a squeak. “I just… I thought your tribe didn’t want to take care of me like you didn’t want to, and you were supposed to take me back.”

Din’s feels a sudden pain strike him in the chest and suddenly breathing made him nauseous. It’d been a while since he was able to actually sympathize with another person. And here Rey was sitting here thinking an entire tribe of people would turn their backs on her and leave her to the fate of the harsh wilderness of Jakku simply because she wasn’t wanted. How despicable the universe must have been to this little one for her to think anyone wouldn’t want her to be happy and safe.

Kriff, the only reason he handed her over the tribe to begin with was to keep her safe because he knew she wouldn’t be with him.

He sighs and slowly spins around once more. “That’s not what’s happening Rey.”

“Well, I sure know you didn’t come back for me! You obviously still don’t want me around!”

Din scowls. “You’re right,” he snaps at her, “I didn’t want you around. It’s dangerous and I don’t want to see you get hurt. That’s why I was taking you to my tribe; where you would have been safe while I looked for your family.” Rey stares at him and doesn’t utter a word to respond, and Din hesitates to continue. “Then they explained to me that you would do best staying with me. They would’ve loved to have you if you wanted to stay. Foundling’s are treasured by our culture; they are our future.”

“Oh.”

Din turns yet again, but Rey still hadn’t returned to her talkative self. Perhaps she was just tired like Xiyu had said. He glances down at the nav system he’d yet to set the coordinates into, then glanced back over his shoulder at Rey still staring out at the stars with a sad frown.

“Rey. Come here.” He gestures his hand to the space between himself and the control panel. “I need help inputting our next coordinates. And then I think it’s time you go down and sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Rey’s at his side in a matter of moments, wiping any lingering moisture in her eyes as she looks down at the display Din was pointing out to her. He guided her through punching in the correct numbers and she did well enough to coax a proud smile onto her face. She turned her grin up to him, looking for his validation and he gave it to her with a small nod of his head and awkward pat on the back.

“Now, go down and rest.”

Rey hesitates, her smile falling into a worried frown.

“You won’t leave me here?” Din doesn’t answer right away. “Right?” She reiterates a bit more desperately.

“No, I won’t leave you on the Crest.”

“Do you promise?” She holds up her hand to him, arching one brow in doubt.

Din stares at her outstretched palm in amusement. “What are you doing?”

Rey looks at him with a scoff. “It’s a handshake, dummy.” Din grunted. “It’s what people do when they agree on stuff,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “But you probably don’t know what that is, ‘cause you just punch ‘em till they do what you want.”

Din sighed to cover an involuntary chuckle and lifted his gloved hand towards her. She grabs it which ends up dwarfing her own as she shakes their joined hands adamantly and with such seriousness it was almost amusing.

Instead of letting go after the shake was finalized, Din gently tightens his grip on her hand and stands from the pilots chair, guiding her towards the ladder leading into the hull. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected of himself when he thought to tell the girl to go to bed, but something urged him to follow her down and make sure she was settled and comfortable in bed.

He begins by straightening out her bed of blankets on the floor which he had put the day prior as she went to the privy. So, it was all ready for her to dive right beneath the collection of blankets by the time she got out.

She’d forgone her new tunic and vest and had instead changed back into the oversized flight suit garb Din had let her borrow on her first night, claiming it was much more comfortable for sleeping. He says nothing more regarding that and drapes the top few blankets over her once she had settled.

“Am I allowed to ask questions?” She asks him meekly, pulling one of the blankets close to her nose as Din made sure she was situated properly and would remain warm throughout the night.

He nods.

“What kind of planet are we going to?”

Din stands and his knees pop slightly after kneeling on the hard floor. “It’s like Jakku, but with rocks.”

“Oh,” Rey nods, rolling onto her side so she could continue to look at him.

“Go to sleep.” He instructs with a tenderness that even surprised himself. “You need rest after such a long day.”

She listens. Smiling up at him just before her eyes slip closed. Her knees draw closer to her chest as she curls around her blankets. And he thinks she might have fallen asleep before he was even able to ascend the ladder.

***

It had taken approximately two and a half days before they landed on Arvala-7.

Din had used that time to clean the ship and do some on board maintenance he hadn’t gotten around to while he was twiddling his thumbs on Nevarro. Rey was a good help, always at his side and eager to aid him with whatever he asked, and apt to listen at whatever knowledge he was willing to bestow on her. She was much more subdued this time around though. She wasn’t nearly as talkative, and refrained from touching him in any way.

He should’ve found relief in her sudden change, but all he felt was guilt. He had broken her trust. The quiet was now almost suffocating in a way he’d never found it before, and it wasn’t like he knew how to fill a void of silence. He was perfectly fine working in silence—awkward or not—but what irked him was knowing the child was upset with him. The child he was supposed to be caring for, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

She would ask a necessary question here and there, but never really stemming from her parched curiosity. And considering the little she knew about the galaxy beyond her small world of Jakku, that could prove to be a hindrance later on if this continued. As his logic dictated, it was good for a child to be curious and question their surroundings. It was how they learned.

However, that was a problem he’d decided was to be tackled another time when he was perhaps a bit more comfortable with this newfound guardianship role. Instead, he’d found that Rey was quite proficient with the mechanics of his ship and was quick to catch on to small things he’d teach her, similar to her “piloting” skills which consisted mainly of fabricated procedures to keep her busy and entertained amongst the unprogrammed buttons and switches beside her seat. Either way, she was good at following instructions, even when he could tell she found some things just a bit ludicrous.

They spent quite a bit of time with each other on the Crest during those two days. It was inevitable considering the cramped quarters. And Din made extra care not to scold or discourage her if it was not necessary which most times it definitely wasn’t.

So, by the time they had landed, it was easy to tell Rey had grown a bit more comfortable with him. She was eager to help him land the ship, and that time he may have given her a few real switches to flip through. As soon as they’d touched down, she bolted down into the hull before everything could even be properly powered down. Din sighed in amusement and went about shutting down the Crest. By the time he’d slowly stepped his way into the hull, Rey was standing over by the loading ramp, dressed in her new clothes, hair done up in a proper braid, and her shoes on and ready to go with her makeshift staff in hand as she bounced on her toes.

“Someone’s eager.” He quipped lightly, tapping on his vambrace to open the weapons cabinet. He pulls out his rifle, tucks it under his arm and makes his way towards her, pushing a button on the control pad to lower the ramp. “Stick close to me. Understand?”

Rey nods emphatically, staring out at the rocky expanse that’s revealed as the ramp lowers to the muddy ground. Din could tell she was tempted to dart ahead of him to explore, but she does as he says and stays by his side as he moves to the middle of the small clearing he’d landed his ship in. He holds the fob outwards to test the signal and drops his arm in agitation as he looks out into the vacant landscape.

He turns towards Rey and holds out the fob towards her. “Your job is to hold this. Don’t lose it.”

She takes it from him, cradling it gently in her hands as she stares down at the blinking light. Din lifts his rifle to peer through the scope and she’s none the wiser as she traces the small box with her finger. Enthralled with the tiny device as it beeps slowly. She looks up just in time to see a big fishy creature charging right at them.

“Mando!” She shouts, startling the Mandalorian from his focus. He tosses her out of the way just as the beast grabs his arm and hauls him back a good ways, tossing him around like a dead womp rat.

Rey looked on horrified, frozen in place. For the first time since she met him, Mando didn’t seem to have the situation under control. It didn’t take but a couple more moments of her silent terror that she was shaking it off and charging the beast. It’d grabbed hold of Mando again after he’d escaped the first time and it didn’t look to be a very fair fight. She leapt onto its back, holding tight as she wails her fists and her staff on the tops and sides of its big head.

She’s bounced around on its back, but is somehow able to hold on for a good while before she goes down. Hard. The beast collapsed sideways, and she had to dive out of the way to avoid being crushed by its weight. Mando’s arm is still stuck in its mouth.

“Rey!” He shouts, waving his hand frantically at her. “Go! Get out of the way!” She turns just in time to see a second creature running at her and she dives forward to try and evade its charge, landing near Mando. He pushes her behind his body as the beast comes up on them acting as a proper shield, but at the last minute it keels over as well, a tingling blue spark spreading over its scaly body.

Rey holds onto his outstretched arm as she peers out from behind his back curiously. “What are those things?”

And then another one shows up, but it was much more subdued. Probably because of the Ugnaught riding on its back. Mando’s arm prevents her from moving out from behind him still as he slowly assessed the man.

“Thank you.”

“You are a bounty hunter.” The small man states in response.

“Yes.” He slowly lowers his arm, apparently assessing he was there to cause no harm and allowing Rey to properly crawl out from behind him.

She locks eyes with the man on top of the creature. He stares at her for a couple moments before speaking again. “I will help you… I have spoken.”

And with that he guided the large beast to turn and walk away.

Rey decided that she liked him, and she jumped to her feet with a smile, ready to follow. She does her best to be polite and help Mando up from the muddy ground also, but she doesn’t think she’s doing much more than offering the pleasantry as the large man takes her hand politely and grunts in his effort to stand up. She puts all her strength into it, her bodyweight too… so she likes to think she at least helped him a little bit.

Either way, she’s pleased he’s alright and trails beside him as they follow the Ugnaught back to his camp.

~ Next Chapter ~

[combat-wombatus]

afterglow // part ii: the fighting

Pairing: Sawamura Daichi x gn!reader

Warnings: fighting (just any generic fight scene really), blood, minor snark??

WC: 2.1k (this is a lot longer than the previous chapter hehe)

(A/N): hehehe part 2 is finally up :p (also check out the series masterlist with the updated synopsis!! quite proud of it >.<) also please ignore the bad titles,, i had an "f" alliteration theme going on and i literally killed all my brain cells trying to come up with SIX verbs that were at least somewhat relevant to the plot for the chapter titles, i'm so sorry asldkjhlfadksh

series masterlist || haikyuu masterlist || bnha masterlist || navi

read part i here!

Finally…

You stared ahead at the encampment of soldiers, bustling about merrily as if they found joy in living a life of slaughter. As if they had no blood on their hands—or worse, as if they did not care if they did.

“Houyi.” You stroked his neck. “Ready?”

He gave a snort of agreement, tossing his black mane in the air.

I was born for this, he seemed to say.

“Alright.” Digging your heels in, you leaned forward, bow in hand, arrow notched and at the ready.

“Hiya!”

You charged furiously down the hill, kicking up a storm of clay-red dust behind you. As the first soldier looked up in surprise, you aimed your arrow at the wooden post in the middle of the camp and let it fly. You were nothing if not fair, and though you despised these people with your entire being, it would never be said that you fought dirty. Surprise attacks were for the weak, and you were anything but.

Besides, you kind of wanted to see how fast you could take the camp, even with the soldiers alert and ready to fight.

Holding your bow sideways, you let loose three arrows at once, all of them hitting their marks. Three men went down with barely a whimper—an arrow to one’s kneecap will do that.

The soldiers were a mess. You weren’t even sure if they were real soldiers or simply a very large band of mercenaries—surely a real military camp would be much more organized than this. They should’ve sounded the alarm as soon as they saw you charging down the hill, not when three of their men were already down.

You took out three more men with another round of clean shots to the kneecap.

This is too easy.

They were green; young, inexperienced, and jittery—no match for a seasoned hunter.

And you were one of the very best.

You set loose arrow after arrow, hitting your target every single time. Within moments, the area in front of you was empty, save for the men curled up on the ground, groaning.

Houyi slowed down to a trot, and you casually dropped from the saddle, stepping over the fallen soldiers. A white command tent was front and center in the little military camp, no more than five hundred meters away. Slinging your bow over your shoulder crossways—it wasn’t ideal for close-range combat—you unsheathed two scimitars, preparing yourself for a scuffle.

It wasn’t your favorite type of battle—close-range battles were messy and bloody—but you hadn’t had a chance to spar with someone in a long time.

You were also craving revenge for what they had done to the broken village you passed.

Barely concealing a feral grin, you stalked towards the commander’s tent. Suddenly, the tent entrance ruffled, and a man stepped out in full armor, save for his helmet. His hair was a stiff charcoal black—it was shorn short, which was surprising for a man of his presumed station. Most men in this dynasty preferred to wear their hair long, but there was something curious about this one. Tanned olive skin revealed a life spent in the sun, and a grim, determined expression glared at you with unbridled fury.

You bared your teeth and tightened your grip on your scimitars. This was going to be fun.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He clasped his hand over a broadsword sheathed at his side, pulling it out with the signature clang of steel sliding against steel. “Who are you?”

“Vengeance,” you replied airily. The man frowned, looking confused.

One…

You smiled, the wicked grin gracing your lips matching the wicked curve of your scimitar.

Two…

Your hood flew back, revealing you in all of your glory. You didn’t mind. You were confident that none of these people—scum—would live to tell others what you looked like, anyways.

Three…

You charged.

No battle cry surged from your lips—silent hunting habits were hard to break—but as he met the first slash of your blades with the side of his broadsword, you grunted at his strength.

Not many people could withstand one of your attacks, much less both at the same time.

This was going to be fun.

Quickly sliding one of your scimitars from underneath the deadlock, you twirled it around in your hand and aimed a slice straight at his torso. He stepped to the side, twisting his own broadsword so that it knocked your other blade to the side. Instead of continuing to retreat, he slanted his body at a forward tilt, catching your right wrist with his hand while pushing your other hand aside with his sword.

You hissed in pain as he twisted your wrist, forcing you to drop your blade. Feinting with your left hand, you sliced a deep gash on his right thigh, right in between two metal plates of armor. His grip on your wrist loosened, and you were able to put some distance between the two of you.

You charged forwards again, aiming your remaining scimitar low, towards his knees. He dropped into a defensive crouch, broadsword held out low in front of him. You smiled.

Just as he was preparing to meet your blade in a clash of steel, you jumped. Leaping upwards, you stepped on his wrist—he dropped his sword with a clang—and hooked your left leg around his waist, using it to pivot on his back. Wrapping your right arm around his broad shoulder, you brought your blade up until the tip of it kissed his neck.

He gulped, the movement drawing forth a slight trickle of crimson blood.

“Why? Why did you do it?”

He eyed the blade warily. You loosened it slightly so he could talk.

“Do what?” he asked, though his attention was caught on the fine workmanship of the scimitar.

“Kill all those people.” Your little scuffle had attracted quite the crowd—understandable, since it seemed like this man was somewhat of an important figure in this camp. Still, none of his comrades—or underlings—dared interfere, seeing as you were the one with the upper hand here; you could slit his throat before one of them even took three steps forwards.

“We haven’t killed anyone…yet,” he answered, confusion laced in his tone. “I’m overseeing trainees. They aren’t ready to fight.”

Ah. That explained the incompetence of the soldiers.

“But the village…?” You frowned, brows scrunching up in confusion. There was no mistaking what you had seen.

His expression darkened. “We came too late.”

Oh.

Cautiously, you lowered your blade from his neck. Yes—it made sense. He was obviously dressed in imperial commanding gear. Why would imperial soldiers slaughter their own village?

Well, now you felt a little silly—and guilty—for attacking their encampment without having done your proper research.

The other men gingerly stepped forwards.

“General Sawamura! You’re losing a lot of blood!” A young soldier with hair the color of a bright carrot pointed out worriedly. “You should probably go to the tent…Dr. Azumane can treat you there.”

The general nodded in agreement, wincing slightly as you hopped off of his back. He walked towards the medical tent, obviously trying his best not to limp.

As he left, it became clear that the other soldiers were unsure of what they should do with you.

A man with hair the color of pewter and a cute mole under his left eye (you assumed that he was the second-in-command) led you to the general’s tent, where you awaited his arrival. Minutes later, he hobbled inside the tent, limping, but proud.

“I thought you had to get your leg treated,” you remarked, noticing the lack of bandages on his thigh, blood still dripping in rivulets down his leg and marking pools on the dusty ground. “So impatient to see me already?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t going to run away,” he answered, a defiant light sparking in his charcoal eyes. “After all, you did take down nearly twenty of my men.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up, a ghost of a smile teasing your lips. “Oh?”

Before he could respond, the entrance to the tent fluttered again, and a large man—even taller than the general—scurried in, his chestnut hair gathered at the nape of his neck. He seemed unduly nervous for someone with such a large physique.

“Ah, doctor,” the general greeted him. “Thank you for coming.”

So this was Dr. Azumane, you realized. From his bulk, you would’ve assumed that he was one of the finest soldiers here. Apparently not.

“You should’ve waited,” the doctor said, staring reproachfully at the general’s leg.

“It appears that we have a flight risk on our hands,” General Sawamura countered. “I couldn’t very well just let them go.”

You bristled. “I wouldn’t have run! And besides, your soldiers could have swarmed me in seconds if I tried!”

“Thank you for the assurance,” he quipped drily. “I will take that into consideration the next time someone barges into our camp”—he winced as the doctor tightened his bandages—“and shoots arrows into my sentries’ knees.”

Okay. Fair point.

“Well, I followed you guys from the town, so forgive me if I mistook you for the raiders that slaughtered an entire village,” you countered, though you did feel a slight twinge of guilt.

His expression darkened, a muscle in his jaw ticking at what was probably an unpleasant memory. The doctor looked up worriedly, tying off the last knot in the bandage and leaving the tent, presumably on his way to treat the other unfortunate soldiers who had stood in the face of your wrath.

“We had nothing to do with that village. Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?”

There was a storm brewing in his eyes, and you wondered if you had pried too far into events you did not yet understand.

“My father was guarding the mountain pass. They were taken unaware by the Huns,” he said, after a long silence.

Your breath constricted in your throat.

“Oh.” It came out like a whisper, the only air you could force past your lips.

“Don’t be,” he said curtly. “You weren’t there either. You couldn’t have helped.”

Settling back on the cushions, he sighed before changing the subject.

“So what are you, exactly? An outlaw? Fugitive?” He leaned closer, squinting. “A mercenary?”

Well, you supposed he could put it that way.

“Nomad,” you answered simply, not knowing exactly what you were yourself.

“Not a Hun, anyways,” the general regarded you critically. “I saw the scimitars. Huns don’t use those, and even if they did, they looked far too well-crafted. Not meant for brute force, anyways.”

You had spent many moons trading pelts and herbs to earn enough jade to purchase the twin weapons from the finest blacksmith you knew. They were custom-ordered, the grips fitted to the exact measurements of your palms—your most treasured possessions.

“Your horse is in the stable, by the way.” The general shifted his weight on the cushions in the tent. “He’s a fine horse, that one.”

You nodded in agreement. A man who didn’t appreciate horses was not worth talking to at all.

“Can I get my sword back?” you asked with as much politeness as you could muster.

He stared at you, then raised an eyebrow. “You want your sword back? In my camp? After you attacked my men? When we still don’t know where your loyalties lie?”

You gave a huff of irritation. “Well, I told you it was a mistake, wasn’t it? And my swords are rather important to me.”

“And my life is rather important to me,” he retorted.

“General, should I take their other one as well?” the gray-haired man interrupted, stepping forwards. You had almost forgotten that he was in the room—he had been silent ever since he’d brought you here. Narrowing your eyes, you laid a hand threateningly on the hilt of your scimitar. The general eyed you appraisingly, then held up a hand.

“I don’t think they’d take too kindly to that. Best leave it be for now. But you will not”—he directed a pointed glance at your hand, still clasped over the grip of your remaining scimitar—“under any circumstances, use that against my men. Or me,” he added, apparently not trusting you to not find loopholes.

“Can I still have my other one back?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“But you let me keep this one!”

“Yes, because you would’ve slit both of our throats if any of us tried to take it from you, and you know it.”

“…fine.”

And so it was on a fine sunny afternoon that you found yourself being corralled into a soldier’s tent, held on a temporary tent arrest.

Oops?

taglist: @todorkihoe @shinsousliya @tobi-momo @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @zerohawks @sobaluvr @chocoboba @khionne @spike-this-ass @alpha3113 @katsuflossy @angiebug101 @solar3lunar @lanaxians-2 @myhoodacademia

(if you would like to be added to the taglist, please fill out the taglist form in my navi or send me an ask! if you would like to be removed from the taglist, please let me know! you will also be tagged when each installment is posted—if you would like to be removed from that taglist, please tell me!)

[razorblade180-heated]

Hunger

[Lewd]

Jaune:*Opens door* I’m hom-

Weiss:*hugging him* Never take a three month long mission ever again!

Jaune:You miss me?

Weiss:Very much. A week in and I realized just how rough this was going to be.

Jaune:We face time almost everyday.

Weiss:*red* You can’t hold me through a scroll.

He smiled at her words and wrapped his arms around her nice and snug. She wasn’t the only one who missed this. It was always nice being with Weiss; especially after a mission. She smelled nice, or maybe he just needed a shower from the trip. Finally they let go of each other and Weiss gave him a chaste kiss he wished that was a bit longer.

Weiss:I made dinner already if you’re hungry.

Jaune:*look at the kitchen*

The stove stop had saw a pot of pasta and a salad bowl nicely prepared. Jaune’s eyes widened in shock and turned back to see Weis with a smug look followed by placing her hands on her hips.

Jaune:Are you telling me all I had to do was leave for awhile and you would’ve learned to cook?

Weiss:Takeout gets expensive. I had plenty of time to learn a couple of meals. They aren’t as good as yours obviously but I think I did pretty well. *smiles* I’ll make you some.

Jaune:(She’s lively today. Did she miss me that much?)

Jaune watched his girlfriend happily hum as she made him a bowl. Her hips swaying back in forth while she danced in place. Jaune’s heart couldn’t help but flutter watching her be so happy. However, he wasn’t even that hungry. For food that is.

“I’m glad you weren’t here for the first attempts weeks ago.” Weiss said a bit embarrassed. “Ruby got a bit mad when I-” her words were cut off by the sudden feeling of Jaune’s arms around her waist which caused her to jump a little and put down the bowl. Weiss looked up at him and was taken into a deep kiss before she could say anything. Jaune slid the bowl out of the way then continued to deepen the embrace.

Weiss’s face grew red as she surrendered to the feeling of Jaune’s tongue quickly overpowering her own before separating their lips moments later. Not without a little resistance from Weiss however, who began standing on her toes the moment he started pulling away. A desperate attempt to make the kiss last a few seconds longer on her part. “That’s a fine way of telling me you missed me.” Her face still flushed from the embrace.

“Of course I missed you. Your smile, your hugs, your kisses...” his hands went down to Weiss’s long, pale legs before slowly dragging his fingers up them and pass the skirt line towards her sensitive thighs. Weiss shuddered as he didn’t stop and pressed his fingers right against her now aching mound. “Your body...” Jaune said, whispering into his snow angel’s ear before kissing it. Oh how she missed this touch.

Weiss wanted to protest about him resting or needing to bathe but instead found her hands gripping the stove top and moaning lightly as Jaune kept rubbing his fingers against her panties. Weiss arched her back instinctively and felt his hard on press through his jeans and up against her butt. Jaune’s left hand rose to pull down Weiss’s dress until her chest was exposed to the warm kitchen air and he grabbed a hold of her supple left tit.

“We....ah...we have a bedroom Jaune.” Weiss’s legs trembled a bit and she held her head down while allowing Jaune to continue his advances. This felt fantastic. Weiss was hoping for a bit of fun but wasn’t expecting it moments after Jaune walked through the door. She couldn’t stop her hips from gliding along his fingers in an attempt to speed things along.

“Couldn’t wait any longer. I’ve thought about you nonstop for months.” His voice got a rasp and ruggedness in it that gave Weiss a chill. There was no use trying to tease him or drag out the tension longer than needed. She had made it pretty obvious that she had no objections to what was happening. “Fine by me.” Weiss moaned out loud.

Weiss put her forearms on the stovetop and bent over lower. Not seeing Jaune’s movements made this far more exciting than it it probably should’ve been. Weiss couldn’t help but think of what her blonde teammate would think of this. ‘Yang would never let me live this down.’ Her attention was brought back to Jaune has she felt him finally release her boob and chose to undo her ponytail; her hair falling down her back. He then turned her head towards him and leaned in for another kiss that was as passionate as the first.

Jaune finally slid her panties to the side and slid a finger into her soaked entrance. A long moan came from Weiss and into his mouth. The pleasure was briefly lived however because Jaune almost immediately removed the now slick digit. Weiss was about to whine in disapproval but heard the sound of the man’s zipper coming undo. The feeling of him pressing the head of his length right against her was indescribable. Jaune had to break the kiss for much needed air and used the time to place his right hand on Weiss’s hip and the other raising her skirt up to get a perfect view of Weiss’s heart shaped ass.

She could feel Jaune’s gaze on her which only made her more anxious and redder. Weiss slowly pushed herself backwards prompting Jaune to thrust forward and feel surrounded by drenched, hot flesh that clung to his length; urging him to go deeper until all of him rested inside her. He then slowly pulled out to the tip before thrusting back in with more speed and for rhythmically. His hips colliding with Weiss’s ass, creating an intoxicating sound Jaune would never get tired of.

“Ahhh! Fuck, right there Jaune! Just like that!” Weiss moaned and shivered at the pleasure of being filled by her boyfriend for so long. They were in sync; pressing against each other at just the right time to get as deep as possible inside the petite huntress. Weiss couldn’t find the strength to raise her head any longer despite wanting another kiss. The sensations given with each thrust left her no choice but to rest her head in her arms and simply let herself succumb to bliss. Letting out yelps and gasps of air as Jaune kept thrusting. Now placing both hands on her exposed waist with his thumbs pressing into the dimples on her lower back he loved so much.

“Gods you’re so wet, so tight!” Jaune groaned heavily as his pleasure built up. The auditable sound of their intimacy growing louder and more like the sound of shoes in the rain. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too...! I-ahhh! Ah, I..close! Don’t stop!” Weiss couldn’t stop moaning or trembling. She was glad foreplay was short or else she might’ve came from the start. It was embarrassing to think about but it was clear her body missed him just as much as her heart did. Jaune was the same. His grunts became more strained the more he continued to spread her constricting walls. He was near his limit. But he didn’t want to disappoint Weiss.

The young man pulled out briefly and stood Weiss straight up immediately while turning her around. The young woman had no time to question or react before Jaune pulled her into another kiss. Weiss’s right arm proper her body up against the stove once more as her body began to lean back; accepting the lustful kiss. A second later Jaune hooked his hand around the back of her knee and lifted her leg up. Weiss understood his intention and helped raise it while he plunged all the way back inside her; striking deeper than before.

Weiss’s head was spinning and her body felt like a bomb about to explode. She put her left arm around Jaune’s neck and gave way to the pleasure. She was thankful Jaune used his free hand to replace hers on the stove; using it to grab ahold of his hip and rock her body to meet his thrust until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She broke the kiss and gather what air she could.

“I’m...I’M...!!!!” That was she could put before what felt like a surge of lightning ripped through her body and made her shake. Jaune felt her clamp down around him like a vice and it sent him over the edge. “Weiss!” He gasped before cumming hard inside of her. She continued to cling to her boyfriend as her felt every spurt of his essence fill her up. The warmth and pleasure of it all helped ride out her own orgasm as she still slowly rocked back and forth against him before finally stopping.

Both could feel the rise and fall of each other’s chest as well as the pounding of their hearts. They’d worked up a little sweat but neither cared in the slightest. Especially Jaune who placed his head in the crook of Weiss’s neck; peppering it with kisses that made her giggle happily. Affection before, during, and after sex. Truly he knew how to make every second with him magical.

Weiss:Wow, you weren’t kidding when you meant that you missed me.

Jaune:Says the girl who bent over without me saying anything. Where nights as lonely for you as they were for me?

Weiss:*blushing* Perhaps. Next time let’s both go on a mission together okay.

Jaune:Fine by me. I love you my snow angel.

Weiss:And I love you my knight.

This time Jaune gave her a regular kiss filled with love and admiration. He really was a lucky guy. The two finally separated completely and fixed themselves up; well, as much as they could. Red faces and a bit of sweat would probably need a shower. Something Weiss would like if it wasn’t for the deep growl that came from both of their stomachs that made them both laugh. Jaune gave his bowl to her and made another one for himself.

Weiss:It’s a good thing I cooked before hand. *takes a bite*

Jaune:Yep! *takes a bite*

......

Weiss:Wanna order takeout?

Jaune:Yes please.

[baekberrie]

🌸him&her ➸ bbh pt.6🌸

Genre: fluff, romance, slight angst, highschool AU

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Tag list: @byunfirstlady​, @cbxtual​, @j-ngin88​

- Previous

The clock ticked 1 am, Baekhyun's heart ticked broken.

He couldn't help but get overwhelmed by the raw emotions of rage, frustration, and guilt when he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His lip was busted and bruises were burning painfully on the surface of his skin. A scowl twisted his lips at the sight, how he hated his own reflection. It reminded him of how weak he turned out to be day after day although experiencing things that should've made him grow stronger. And yet, Baekhyun never saw any changes. Especially when he'd observe it after being beaten up for the hundredth time by the same assholes, it counted another hundredth time of failure to stand up for himself. His mother had shed tears when he had returned home that day, with red, swollen eyes and blue marks all over his body, worry pooling her glossy orbs. Not even she did know about how Baekhyun had let himself become the punch bag of some bored bullies.

It had only been a couple of days and Jongdae hadn't shown up at school ever since. Only a couple of days, but truly, they had felt like entire weeks, though, the fresh cuts on his pale skin would always be there to remind him. Normally, there could have been an excuse for Jongdae to skip classes, but this once, even if the male hadn't said so himself Baekhyun knew it was to avoid him. He knew he had to talk to him and clear things out, but he felt so weak, so broken, but most of all scared. Scared that whatever he had to say, Jongdae wouldn't want to hear it because he had lied and betrayed their friendship. The fact that he had gone as far as skipping school to not see him made Baekhyun feel so damn helpless and afraid.

Because of that, Baekhyun had stopped hanging with you. No matter how much he liked you, it just felt so wrong to take in your soft expressions while his heart was somewhere else, while Jongdae was mad at him. So he asked for space, and you had been so understanding that it had truly hurt to be so distant from you when all he wanted was to hear your voice and have you comfort him, it was inevitable for his heart to fall for you all over again. But he couldn't allow himself to think about these things, not now.

He found himself recalling the very moment after he had slammed his belongings onto the floor when consumed by anger like he never had been before. When you had seen him being beaten up, when you had seen him in his most vulnerable state. Baekhyun had been well aware of what you had meant when you had ever so gently put the glasses back on his face, when you had caressed his bruised cheek. That you accepted him for who he was. Though at that moment, he hadn't been able to take the gesture, the amount of hate within had been consuming him, his chest on fire of anger.

"I'm sorry-" he had breathed out. His eyes painfully closed and fingers twitching ever so slightly against your skin. "I need to be alone, for a while." A while meant longer than just a few hours, longer than a day or two, it meant until he made up with jongdae.

Another two days flew past him and it had felt as if he had been standing in the same spot without moving an inch, although he had taken care of a couple of important matters. The bruises on his face hadn't gone unnoticed by the whole school and it had been a matter of time before he and the bullies got involved with the principal himself.

This had been the first time that Baekhyun tasted the true bitter taste of hardship on his very tongue. He had never known that facing confrontation could've been so hard, so scary. For that matter, he had once again realized how much of a coward he truly was. It kept him up at night, the frustration and guilt would take any chance it had to haunt him until he wouldn't be able to feel anything at all. Until he was numb. Every fruitless day he'd tell himself that he was still gathering his courage. But really, he was lying to himself in a desperate attempt to justify his cowardice.

It felt hard, but truly, all he had to do was go to his house and do it. Just do it.

The clock ticked past 1 am, and it was then that the boy felt an intense urge to leave his house. Sleep had been chased long ago- days ago even. He had nothing to lose, nothing but a precious friendship. He figured out that the right moment he had been aimlessly waiting for, would've never come. It all depended on him. Throwing on a random hoodie over his pajama shirt, Baekhyun quietly sneaked out of the house, and in just a few minutes, he was standing in front of Jongdae's porch. He knew that he couldn't possibly knock in the door, so with clammy and shaky hands, he dialed Jongdae's number and called, pressing the electronic to his ear. A disbelieved chuckle almost left Baekhyun's lips at the way he found himself feeling. It was just Jongdae and yet his heart was trembling, threatening to jump out of his throat while his body turned as rigid as a rock.

Baekhyun began losing confidence and hope when the line hit the 9th ring, though, his tongue tied itself in his mouth when he heard the call getting answered, Jongdae's sleepy and extremely annoyed voice reached his ears.

"Who the fuck calls at this hour?" Baekhyun knew that wasn't meant to be heard, but his friend was nothing less than what he used to be any day, any time if the day: loud.

"Hello?" The best friend hissed into the speaker and Baekhyun almost flinched, feeling a sudden urge to end the call and run back home. But he swallowed the dry lump down and stood his ground through the fear and nervousness.

"Jongdae-" He managed to croak breathlessly, "It's me, Baekhyun."

"Baekhyun?" A spark of hope surged in his chest at the suddenly woke tone in Jongdae's voice, mixed with a pleasant surprise that he hadn't been able to hide.

"Yeah. Can you come out for a second? I'm right outside." It was painstakingly obvious how hesitant Jongdae was being behind the wooden door that was by now extremely slowly opening before him. Jongdae's lips were pressed into a thin line when Baekhyun came into his view, being extremely cautious of letting any emotion take over his features. Jongdae's voice void of any emotions as he mumbled a quiet yet seemingly angry "What are you doing here?" that made Baekhyun want to cower away if it hadn't been for his friend's extremely loud eyes betraying the facade he was pulling. Baekhyun could tell the hint of curiosity and relief on Jongdae's face and that was enough to encourage him.

It took him a few nervous gulps to finally part his lips and speak the sentences that for days had been dancing in his mind as he tried to find a proper formulation.

"I am sorry, Jongdae, for lying to you and breaking your trust." At first, Baekhyun hadn't been able to speak any louder than a mere whisper, but his as his gaze settled on the male in front of him and unfocused, words started pouring from his tongue. As if in a dally, Baekhyun felt like he wasn't hearing everything he was saying- as if his heart was speaking.

"I know that you're upset with me, but I just wanted to tell you that I took care of things. I spoke with the principal and th-they got expelled from the school. No more of this madness. I'm sorry for not telling you about them." Baekhyun hoped that Jongdae wasn't upset enough to not spare him an ear for the things he was saying. To his relief, the best friend had indeed listened and had questions as well.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jongdae let go of his facade and let the mix of disbelief and sadness drip through his words, sending a desperate expression in Baekhyun's way. His fists clenched at the sound of his question. Jongdae had never been the problem, and Baekhyun hoped he knew that.

"I-" Teeth drilled into his lip, his thoughts jumbled into the most massive mess, what was he supposed to say? Baekhyun dreaded to pronounce the truth that made him hate himself even more. "I was being prideful. " Baekhyun finally revealed, voice breathy and anxious. "You've always protected me, Jongdae. And I am so thankful, but I couldn't stand hiding behind you anymore, you understand me, right? I wanted to be strong on my own, I wanted to solve this on my own." His head hung low as he shamefully looked down to his feet, his cold fingertips attacking each other in nervous fidgets.

"But I failed miserably."

"Baekhyun-" Before Jongdae could start telling him otherwise Baekhyun shook his head vigorously at him, "No, Jongdae." He said, pushing the round glasses up his nose and the gesture gave Jongdae a slight sensation of nostalgia although it had been only a couple of days. "This is the truth and I'm doing everything I can to accept it."

"I've realized it. That I can't do everything solely with my own strength, it won't ever work out, and that's just how I am. I am not endlessly strong. It sucks to admit but it applies to everyone in the end. Not telling you was a mistake, not getting professional help take care of things was a mistake." A sigh tumbled down his lips as it felt like a huge weight had been finally been lifted from his chest. " It was wrong of me to prioritize not feeling humiliated over my well being."

All this while, Jongdae could do nothing but listen to his best friend pouring his heart to him with wide eyes, words that he had never expected to hear from Baekhyun himself, but that deep down made him feel extremely proud.

Baekhyun then surprised him once more with a sudden lighthearted chuckle, "Even when you're not here, you manage to lead me on the right path, it's crazy." He chimed, referring to Jongdae's absence by his side. "I hope you're still willing to do that?" Baekhyun questioned, intending to ask him to still be his friend, and he knew everything had turned out for the best when Jongdae broke into his usual goofy smile, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

"You might as well just say you're in love with me." He laughed hysterically as Baekhyun immediately pushed him away with a shocked, pouty frown on his face and scarlet red cheeks.

"What the fuck, Jongdae? I'm trying to make up for my mistakes and this is what you do?" Baekhyun hissed and crossed his arms over his body as if Jongdae had just violated him. The latter rolled his eyes dramatically and threw an arm over his shoulder, waving his previous words away. "Naw, don't be like that Baek, it's not my fault you're such a girl." He sighed but soon enough, his lips were curling into a sincere smile, a happy glint appearing in his brown orbs. "But I forgive you."

"Speaking of girls, how's the progress with your love interest?" Jongdae asked cheesily, throwing him a sugary smirk that made Baekhyun want to throw up.

"My love life isn't a comic, Jongdae," Baekhyun grumbled, secretly saying that just so that he could buy time before disappointing his friend. Jongdae stiffened at the word comic and the memories it brought back to him. He mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath before clearing his throat weirdly. Though, Baekhyun knew better than to give his antics attention.

They took a seat by the porch and Baekhyun didn't know how to start telling Jongdae that he might've ruined his very few chances with you, scratching his black hair with an indecisive pout on his lips he hummed thoughtfully. "I actually...Well, I kissed her?" Baekhyun started, cringing at the massive gasp that Jongdae let out next to him, probably so that he could hold himself from hollering in the whole neighborhood. "But when you stopped coming to school, I told her I needed to distance myself until things were back into its place." He finally turned his head to gauge Jongdae's reaction, only to feel dread at the excitement vanishing from his face and replaced into anger and disbelief.

"You did what?!" It took all of his strength not to scream or strangle the fearful Baekhyun next to him, so he settled with pinching and slapping him, earning countless ouches echoing in the night. "You dumb- fucking cretin!" he groaned, "Deficient! There is a whole ass Jongin out there as your rival, and you think you can afford to do what you did?!"

"I couldn't just court her while you were being upset with me!" Baekhyun hissed right back at Jongdae once he'd gotten ahold of his abusive hands. "You are also important-" The round glasses slid slightly down the bridge of his nose as he caught himself in the middle of the sentence, blood suddenly sprouting underneath his cheeks and warming his whole face up.

"Agh, look at what you're making me say! Idiot!" The tables seemed to have turned around when Baekhyun started hitting Jongdae instead, filling the neighborhood with pain-filled laughs and mischievous teasing.

***

Baekhyun had a continuous tickling sensation in his stomach as he and Jongdae headed to school. Ever since last night, he had been feeling as if a major part of his worries had with one big blow been carried away from his shoulders. Nonetheless, there was still one more thing left lingering on his heart, on his mind. You. He could just pray he wasn't too late, that you hadn't found him a complete ass for distancing himself. He sighed loudly, knowing nothing but to rely on your understanding self.

The two of you getting closer, him kissing you- and the bullies, Jongdae lashing out on him- everything had taken place in the span of a week and as short as it was, it had felt so much longer. He couldn't help but try to and recall the sound of your voice in his head, but somewhat failed, making him want to see you as soon as possible. Just so that he could be swallowed in your warm, colorful presence that would at any time make him feel as if he was living in a watercolored painting bathing in the sun. He had styled his black locks with a small amount of gel, parting his bangs in the middle, trying out something slightly new. It fit him, though, the bruises and cuts on his face were not making him any more flattering. The cuts an angry red that stung, his bruises still pulsating with ache, the edges were slowly fading into yellow, but it was still too purple to deem healed.

As the two boys entered the classroom in time, they were welcomed by the beautiful sight of you- but also Jongin, leaning with his hands on the front of your desk and speaking animatedly with you. Jongdae pushed his elbow harshly into Baekhyun's rib, making him let out a cry of pain as he still had aches that had yet to heal even on his stomach. The best friend looked at him with an I-told-you-so, look on his face, "Look! And there burned your only chance." Jongade exaggerated in a hiss under his breath, only annoying Baekhyun even more. He swallowed the urge to punch him back down and only pushed his glasses up his nose before more or less limping to his desk that luckily, had not been occupied by Jongin this time, although he was there.

Baekhyun managed to catch both yours and Jongin's attention as he plopped down quiet heavily onto his seat next to you, seething because of the too rough movement. He wasn't too used in moving so carefully and because of that he often forgot about his aches until he would sit down or move too harshly. A questioning look swam its way on Jongin's features as he eyed the no longer pink-haired boy, though didn't comment on it. Moreover, a cringe twisted his lips at the sight of his injured face. "You sure look rough," he had stated the obvious with something Baekhyun and Jongdae could've sworn was a concern. "Are you sure you shouldn't be at home?" The honey-skin pressed uncertainly, looking genuinely put off by the fact that Baekhyun had shown up in such a state when he rightfully so, should've been nowhere but at home and resting. Baekhyun was about to answer, thoughts swirling messily in his head, filtering before he'd mutter something like "I can't let you court her instead of me," which would've thrown him into trouble. Before he could utter anything, you had already swung your chair closer to his, your orbs pooled with worry came into his view and a tickling sensation swam in his stomach, making him want to giggle but he held in the urge and bit his lip.

"Are you okay?!" The sound of your voice hit him like a truck, and as if there were two pumping hearts underneath his ribs, he felt his chest swelling uncontrollably. How much he had missed your face that he found so beautiful, your long hair falling ever so gracefully down your shoulders, your sweet voice. He hadn't realized until now, how alive your presence always managed to make him feel, whether, in the happiness, sadness, or jealousy, he would always have his feelings living like eager fishes swimming inside of him. Baekhyun found himself slightly speechless as he almost fell into a daze when meeting your starry eyes, eventually eyeing Jongin from the corner of his eyes. He couldn't let this opportunity slip. It was now or never.

Jongdae who was watching from his seat a few rows behind almost cackled out loudly at his friend who had very convincedly started wincing and hissing in pain. "Ouch- I, no, I don't I think I feel that well." Teeth stuck into his delicate lip, he for once accepted the flustered blush that ever so subtly spread on his face, his eyes softening in the ones of a puppy as he looked at you. Baekhyun's heart threatened to burst into one big firework when your gentle fingertips caressed the side of his face, eyebrows bent in concern, "Haven't you taken care of these scars?" you asked when noticing the angry color forming on his skin, and when he sheepily shook his heard, you got your confirmation. "They're going to get infected, Baekhyun! You should take care of yourself."

The disbelief in your voice prompted him to feel slightly guilty and embarrassed for not being careful enough with himself, but at the end of the day, he knew that he hadn't been in any state to care about himself at all. "Sorry?" he tempted sheepily, and you could only shake your head with a sad smile. "What for? Baekhyun it's yourself you should feel sorry toward." you said earnestly, "Come on, let's go to the infirmary and get these cleaned," your hand reached out for his and he had to press his hand against his mouth so that he wouldn't let out the victorious smile threatening to burst on his lips.

While being gently dragged by you, he cast a look over his shoulder, almost sneering at the forgotten Jongin and then raising a cocky eyebrow at Jongdae as he had proved him wrong, big time. Entering the infirmary, Baekhyun was hit by the minty smell mixed with the one of plastic gloves, making him feel as if he was at an actual hospital. He was surprised when you hadn't bothered to call any nurse, but every so pleasantly, for that matter. There was no way he could complain when getting some precious alone time with you, yeah, he would never complain ever again.

He sat comfortably on the patient's bed while you had disappeared behind the curtains to get a first aid kit. Baekhyun had no idea if his frantic heart was manifesting through his clenched features. He might've looked bold when throwing such a look of revenge to his friend, but on the inside, he still remained the incredibly nervous pink-haired boy he'd been once. But that anxious feeling, to his confusion, disappeared completely when you showed up just a minute later, with an aid kit clutched in your hands.

You placed the kit next to him and started rummaging for some disinfectant and cotton pads. That concentrated frown between your eyebrows and the long, silky hair framing your face that would always tempt him to touch it, he loved it so much, but there was nothing more he adored more than your kind and caring self. Baekhyun couldn't help himself when his gaze on you could be called nothing else but staring at this point. But your scent was enveloping in such a warm embrace, hypnotizing him as he followed your every movement with hooded eyes and lips that were constantly being tugged by his eager teeth. Not even the swelling heart in his chest could describe the overwhelming feelings he had for you. He knew that he didn't know you too well, that he had yet to discover your flaws and much more, but he so wanted to, he was ready to love your every imperfection and perfection. He had never felt like this before. He felt such disbelief, as you had tenderly removed the glasses from his face, and taken in his face with such starry eyes, he had felt like a glimmering emerald. If you rejected him, what was he ever going to do with all of these feelings that day by day brimmed over the edge of a filled glass?

The cotton pad was drenched with disinfectant as you brought it closer to Baekhyun's injured face. The proximity was giving your heart a reason to speed up greatly, a speed you weren't sure you could handle, but for all you knew, the warm puffs of breath hitting your cheeks as you leaned ever so much closer, felt addictive, and you couldn't help but long more of his strawberry scent- suddenly recalling how his lips had without any warning landed on yours that day when the rain had suddenly started pouring. Lost in your train of thoughts, you accidentally pressed the cotton pad too harshly on his scar, earning a stinging hiss from the boy.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" You panicked, imagining the hurtful sting he must've felt, "I was spacing out, I am so sorry!" Baekhyun's lips broke out into a childish smile as he caught your flailing wrists, shaking his head dismissively. "Hey, it's okay." He had murmured softly, but the smile in his low voice still so very clear. With a palpitating heart, you forced yourself to concentrate and finish the work you had started. It was a lie if you said that you didn't feel the slightest nervous. Baekhyun was following your every movement with honey dripping from his orbs and although a part of you loved having all of his attention for yourself, you did feel the tiniest bit small underneath his scrutinizing gaze.

One last band-aid was applied to the bridge of his nose, and you couldn't help the bubbling chuckles at the result, he looked way too adorable for his own good with those band-aids plastered all over his face, and not to mention the displeased pout on his lips that you could tell was nothing but playful. Baekhyun knew what you were thinking. That he looked cute. His main reason for changing his hair color was so that he could stop being seen as any less than handsome and good looking- and yet somehow, he always managed to look like a baby. If it had been Jongdae in front of him right now, he would've probably wasted no time in throwing a couple of punches his way, or cussing him out. But since it was you, laughing and having your glittering crescents dancing all over his being and the sole fact that he was the cause of your smile, even if for the silliest of reasons, he felt like he had caught a shooting star in a bottle.

Your laughter had with Baekhyun's sudden movements died down in the back of your throat, a lingering silence ringing in your ears. Baekhyun had absolutely no idea what had gotten into him when the swelling his chest had completely clouded his head. His thoughts suddenly nothing but vacant words resounding in the back of his head as his body acted on its own,  prompting him to stretch out his limbs and lock his ankles around the lower part of your body, bringing you closer to him with the pressure of his legs. You almost squeaked when suddenly being pushed to stand in between his legs, but was too speechless because of the proximity to even let out a word. In Baekhyun's eyes was a feeling you had never seen him sporting before, something that darkened his chocolate oceans, something that made you want to dive within them and never find your way back. An alluring, magnetic pull that turned the air around you extremely thick, suddenly, the scent of Baekhyun's aftershave so much more noticeable, alluring, inviting you to lean closer to its derival.

Shivers thundered down your spine when his scorching hot fingertips caressed your palm, outlined it as if the petals of a flower, but eventually disappeared as quickly as you had felt it. Only to have his gentle hands ghost their way around your waist, hanging there loosely, almost uncertainly. By now, your breaths were one single source of air as they mingled together. You had no idea what to do, you had never been so close to anyone before, never had your heartbeat melt against another rhythmic one. You loved it but was so insecure, so scared of doing something wrong. Your slightly trembling hands curled against the soft fabric of his shirt when Baekhyun had once again reduced a great ounce of distance, leaving his lips to frustratingly brush against your cheek- only a few centimeters away from your lips that had on their own fallen apart, trembling and swelling eagerly. Although you were only slowly understanding the situation, your body had it all figured out, reacting to Baekhyun's slow advances with an enthusiasm that you had never known resided within you. It only took Baekhyun's feathery peck to your cheek to prompt your eyes to hood as an effect of your body giving in to the magic spell that was his presence.

It was as if your brain had dissolved into a puddle inside of your head, with his lips finally in front of yours and their warm breaths melting your own, you felt as if you were going to die if he didn't press them to yours at the instant. But then, amid your desire, he like the first time, closed the distance without any warning, stealing your breath away with the foreign feeling of his moist lips molding beautifully against yours. His lips were as soft and pillowy as they looked like when they gently, and ever so slowly started moving against yours, your eyes closing completely when you let yourself finally away to the moment. You had no idea of what you were doing, but you figured it was fine as your mouth on its own, steadied to Baekhyun's rhythm. The boy tilted his head to deepen the kiss, eventually humming sweetly at the sensation of you kissing him back. His hands that had ever so discretely fallen to rest loosely on your hips tightened their hold as the both of you fell out of breath but found it hard to part.

The noise of your lips detaching only increased the number of butterflies fluttering their wings in your belly. Baekhyun's forehead landed gently against yours, and you found yourself able to count his eyelashes from the closeness, not less feel the heat radiating from his flushed cheeks transferring to your own. You could see him frantically looking from left to right from underneath his lashes, probably having an internal war with himself...Perhaps regretting what he had just done? You could just hope that wasn't it. His name had already been carved into your heart.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Baekhyun, once again, suddenly pulling you closer, this time circling his arms around your frame so that you could be engulfed by his embrace and he could bury his face in the crook of your neck. Having the tip of his nose tease the sensitive skin of your neck. At this point, you couldn't bring yourself to wonder what was about to happen, resulting in you leaning into the comfort of his embrace, only to  later on have a sweet, serene smile blossom on your lips at Baekhyun's shy, yet incredibly heartfluttering question. His voice was muffled as he pouted into the fabric of your shirt and spoke, only melting your heart further.

"Can I be your boyfriend...?"

"Can I?"

"I'd love it if you were."

Now he could truly say he had caught a shooting star into a bottle, he wanted to muster it to you. How precious you were, and how he wasn't going to let you go now that he had you. He couldn't.

You, a flower beautifully made by the Gods, finally, finally you knew.

Finally you knew that he loved you.

Him & Her.

FIN.

🌸🌸🌸

*peeks behind corner* Uhhmm hi! Guess who's ashy ass decided to show up here again, after two freaking years. Yes, that's me, and I'm sure many of you are ready to come after me with pinchforks for making wait for so ridiculously long. I am so sorry. I lost motivation and had no idea how to end it. But just recently I found the strength to finish it, and I truly hope that the wait was worth it, that it was a proper way to end this story. As I wrote and edited this story, I can't help but notice how different my writing has gotten, and it's a really intriguing thing to see! I almost don't recognize myself though ><

Anyway, I just want to say that I'm eternally thankful to whoever read this and showed their support. I say it all the time but I really mean it when I say it means the world to me whenever you comment, put like or whatever you might do. I'm thankful. This story is nothing without you. Lots and lots of life to all of you, greetings, P💕💌💖

Sorry for errors!

Other works:

Rooftop - Baekhyun x Reader (oc) -island and bakery au, summer-themed

La Vie En Rose - Baekhyun x Reader - one shot, song inspired, marriage au, pregnancy au

Havana - Baekhyun x Reader - one shot, dirty dancing au, rich girl au

[callmewishful]

Power and Grace

This is kinda scary. Soo...I’m totally late to the FE3H bandwagon, but here I am and I offer a fanfic. 

Felix x OC, mild language (cause Felix...), and mild smut later on in future chapters...hopefully you enjoy! :) 

“We’re old friends, not strangers.”

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

She sat on a wooden seat next to the edge of the ship feeling the salty air lightly coat her face. The air was getting cooler as they went, a surprised, but sure sign they were close to their destination. That, and the view of land in the horizon.

It had been years since she visited the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, three if her memory wasn’t failing her. Her family had tried to visit the Crown Prince as much as they could following the Tragedy of Duscur. Unfortunately, with their own Kingdom to run and heir to prepare for the throne, her father couldn’t get the family over to Faerghus as much as they would’ve liked.

The Leighton’s still kept in touch with their Faerghus friends as much as they could. She had corresponded with the Crown Prince through letters in their separation. They started very cordial, asking about their respective territories, how the harvest was doing, and, from the Crown Prince, how her family was. The more they wrote to each other the less professional and awkward their letters became. The Crown Prince would write about activities spent with friends and, around the time of the Tragedy, his sadness at losing his family. In return, the Princess would write about mischief herself and her brothers would get into and would try to comfort the Crown Prince as best she could. Having not lost any close family herself, she found it difficult to truly empathize with him. Still, she listened and comforted as best she could from afar.

“Your Highness, we are preparing to dock and will arrive on Faerghus territory in the next twenty minutes.”

She broke her gaze from the shoreline to meet the knight, “Thank you, sir. I shall prepare my things.”

A mixture of nerves swirled around in her stomach as she grabbed her luggage from her room. It would be lovely to see the Prince in person, to finally meet these friends she heard much about, to study at the Officers Academy amongst them. On the other hand, she was not a Faerghus noble. She hadn’t grown up with these students, really except for one, she didn’t have the luxury to call them friends. Not to mention she was starting the term late, a last-minute addition, a special request from the Crown Prince himself.

It was thrilling to join the Officer’s Academy, despite the nerves. Her eldest brother and heir to the throne, Quentin, had went six years prior and raved about the training he’d received. The palace knights back home were lovely sparring partners but did leave something to be desired as she grew older. Her father had tried to bring in many different trainers for his four children over the years. Still, according to Quentin, nothing compared to the training at Garreg Mach.

Of course, joining the Officer’s Academy and increasing her training was not the only goal for this year. Faerghus had been a loyal and reliable ally to the Kingdom of Zelshire under the rule of the late King. While the Crown Prince was close to her family, the current Regent, Grand Duke Rufus, did not appear as interested in maintaining a close relationship with her home crown as the late King had. Though she was certainly not as skilled in the art of negotiations as her eldest brother and father, she had been asked to discuss the relationship with the Crown Prince, seeing as he would take the throne back over when he became of age. Of course, it would be ideal to maintain the years of friendship, trade, and alliance that had come from Faerghus, but the King was resolved to accept if that would no longer be the case under the Crown Prince’s rule, if such a thing was even on the forefront of the young Prince’s mind.

She was sure the task of ascending to the throne was daunting enough, without thinking about inter-country relations.

Once again topside, she stood with her accompanying knights to await docking. The banners of Faerghus drew nearer and whether she was prepared or not, the time had come to face Fódlan, and her old friend, once again.

The crew spent a few moments docking, tying the ship to dock and lowering the anchor and ramps, before her feet were allowed to touch land at last. It had been a long two days on the sea, and she was eager to not feel the constant sway of the ship.

A few meters back from where the crew was unloading, she caught sight of familiar blond hair and light blue eyes. The Prince had changed greatly since she’d last seen him. His hair was a bit shorter, though not short by any means. He was taller and more evenly toned from training he’d done since her last visit. Truth be told, he’d grown into a fine young man in the last three years.

Once the knights had deemed the situation to not be an ambush, something she had briefly considered but took little worry in considering she was not the heir to Zelshire, they walked her forward to greet the Prince.

He easily returned her smile as she approached, also returning her bow even though she was no heir. “Princess Leighton! It is an honor to see you again!”

“Please, your Highness, the pleasure of this meeting is all mine! It has been a long time.”

“Three years…” He trailed off, staring down at the ground before meeting her gaze with a perky smile once again, “Shall we make way to the Monastery? It is quite a long trip; we shall have plenty of time to catch up on the road.”

She nodded to him, “Of course, your Highness. How long of a ride is it to Garreg Mach?”

“About a day. I apologize for forcing you to travel so long with no break. I know the trip from Zelshire to Faerghus is not a short one as well. We shall arrive at the Monastery late Sunday night. I apologize as it doesn’t give you much time to prepare before our classes take up Monday morning.” He looked sheepish as he rubbed the back of his head, a nervous habit he’d seemingly picked up in their time apart.

“No need to apologize, your Highness. You did not make the travel arrangements.” That had been tasked to her father’s Consort, Lord Herinby. The Consort had left little time for pauses in travel and rest, something she had not realized until the day she departed. Knowing the Consort, she should’ve known. He was never one to procrastinate or delay meetings, discussions, or counsels. It was a trait that her father valued greatly in his Consort, but one that she was having a hard time appreciating as a traveler.

The knights she traveled with loaded her luggage onto a cart while, embarrassingly, the Prince himself helped her onto her horse. Not that she didn’t appreciate his gentlemanliness but seeing as he ranked higher than her on the nobility structure she found his assistance to be a grave break in social structure. Her face brightened as she took his hand to steady herself. They shared an awkward, well for her, glance before she settled herself upon the steed.

He quickly made work of getting on his own horse and checked on her once more before signaling to the knights they were ready to depart. A small group of knights led the travel party and an equal group brought up the rear so that the Royals were protected on both ends. She noticed the Prince carried a sword on his hip as well. When she’d known him years ago he’d greatly favored the lance to the sword, the sword being her specialty instead. Apparently much had changed.

“I trust your father is well?” The Prince awkwardly made small conversation when they were out of town and on the road. This was destined to be a long ride of conversation was going to be this stale.

Nevertheless, she put on a graceful smile and nodded, “Yes, excellent health, praise Goddess. Thank you.”

“And your brothers?”

She let out a soft laugh, “Are much the same, your Highness.” That part was almost painfully true. Quentin was still a “good little Prince” dutifully and eagerly learning from their father. As he’d grown older he’d taken on more responsibilities of his own, slowly gaining more independence. He was far from running the country, but he was getting there.

Arlington, the second eldest, was still clammed up and reserved. He had few friends his own age but was incredibly close to the ones he did have. Parties were still the bane of his existence as he preferred the serenity of a library or study. Though he lacked in conversational skills, he was intelligent well beyond his years from a life spent studying. He was looking to become a scholar and teach the youths.

Leander, her youngest oldest brother, was the exact opposite of both of the elder two. If Quen and Arlie were polished and gentle, Lea came in like a flaming cannon ball. Ever the jokester, he was constantly playing pranks on the older two, and herself. He was loud, loved crowds, and was the life of the party. Her father and mother had tried on numerous occasions to guide him towards a more “proper” means of communication, but alas he was 18 and had yet to find another volume to his voice.

The Prince laughed in earnest, no doubt having his own memories of her older siblings. “I am glad to hear it. May I make a request?”

His question took her by surprise. She wasn’t sure what about her responses could’ve elicited a question. “Of course, your Highness.”

“Please, address me by my given name.” He softly smiled at her. “You don’t even address me so formally in your letters anymore. We are old friends, not strangers!”

She glanced down quickly before peering up at him to return his smile, “As you wish you- Dimitri. But you must do the same! We are old friends, not strangers.”

“As you wish, Evy.”

From that point on, the conversation turned much more lively, just as it was in their letters. Dimitri asked her about Lea’s latest pranks, which turned into a hysterical recount of his latest and greatest jokes. Poor Quen was mortified to his “potential suitor” a ruse put on by his younger sibling. Evy had little idea of what was in the letters Quen had sent to “her” but judging by the sheer horror on her brother’s face…it was not good. Lea claimed he would never the destroy the letters as long as he lived, even though their Father threatened a harsh punishment if they were ever leaked.

They stopped for a very late dinner and sleep at an inn on the side of the road before rising early for breakfast and more travel. Dimitri assured her there was not usually this much travel at the Academy and she could only hope he was right. Sleeping on a comfortable bed was the only thing she could think of. Her eyes were heavy much of the morning, which did not make for conducive conversation. After lunch and tea, she felt more awake and ready. It was unusual for her to feel so tired so late. She usually an early riser who liked to jumpstart the day.

“Dimitri?”

“Yes?” He seemed surprised at her voice. Conversation was low and inconsistent throughout the morning while she tried to wake up, instead letting a more comfortable silence fall between them.

“Will you tell me about my classmates? What are they like?”

“An excellent question! Well, let me think.” His brow furrowed as he tried to place where to start, “Actually, you do know one of them! Do you remember Sylvain Gautier? He is a few years older than us. Good friends wit-“

“Leander right? The red-head who was helping with jokes and chasing girls?”

Dimitri nodded, “The very same.”

“Oh noooo!” She let her head fall back while her companion laughed at the reaction. Sylvain and Leander had hit it off. The pair ran around Fhirdiad pestering the poor people in the capital city with their pranks and jokes. Her poor mother left in charge of trying to track the pair down while her father and older brothers spent time with Dimitri. He’d even came with Dimitri to visit them in Zelshire one summer. What a mess. “I take it he’s still the same?”

A small frown fell on the Prince’s lips once his laughter had died down, “Unfortunately so. He’s stepped back from pranks and has, uh, taken more to…skirt chasing than he did back with your brother. Pardon my bluntness. Still, once you get to know him he is very loyal to his friends, not necessarily the women he dates, but definitely to his friends.

“Who next? I suppose I should start with Dedue. I’m sure you’ll meet him first.”

“Dedue is your friend from Duscur?” Evy had heard about Dedue many times over the course of their conversing. For the first few months after the Tragedy Dedue seemed like Dimitri’s only real friend around the palace since Sylvain and everyone else lived so far away.

“Oh, yes, of course! I suppose I have talked about him from time to time. He’s a great man. A little too keen on my protection at the expense of his personal safety, but he’s my most trusted confidante.

“Did you ever meet Rodrigue while you were in town?”

She shook her head.

“I couldn’t remember if you had or not. Lord Rodrigue is the head of Fraldarius territory to the east of Fhirdiad. His son, Felix is also a part of our class this year. Um…what to say about Felix. He comes across as a bit brash, well, truthfully he comes across incredibly brash. He’s got a bit of a sharp tongue, you see. He can seem very cold and distant on the outside, but he cares deeply about his friends, he just doesn’t show it as traditionally as most people. The majority of his time is spent training and sparring. Since you both favor the sword, I’d expect him to ask you to spar shortly after meeting him. He’s a very worthy opponent and will be a great mentor for your training if you so desire.

“The last male of our house is Ashe. He was born a commoner but was adopted by Lord Lonato at a young age. He’s very authentic – has a wonderful heart in him that I could only dream of having. He sees the good in everyone and cares very deeply, always approaching people and tasks with eagerness and excitement. Unfortunately, he just lost Lord Lonato last month.”

Evy didn’t know Ashe personally, but her heart broke for him. The way Dimitri described him made him seem like a ray of sunshine. She couldn’t imagine how hard losing family must have been, “Oh no. Disease?”

“Ah, actually, no. Rebellion.”

“Oh!” The response surprised her. Ashe’s adoptive father sparked rebellion, yet he stayed at the Monastery?

Dimitri answered her unasked question, “Yes. Lonato sought rebellion for the death of his biological son. Poor Ashe was in disbelief when he learned of it.”

An awkward silence fell upon them as Evy looked for something to say. What did one say to a situation like that? ‘Sorry?’ That hardly seemed fitting as it seemed Lonato was going about the rebellion as a sort of revenge mission. Thankfully Dimitri spared her and continued,

“As for the ladies of our house, there’s Ingrid Galatea. Her father heads the land southeast of Fhirdiad. She’s very strong willed. Her, Felix, Sylvain, and I grew up together as childhood friends. She was always a bit of a mother-figure, trying to keep Sylvain in line and Felix calm. Ingrid is a strong person and desires to be a knight when she graduates, which will no doubt happen for her. If anyone has the values of a knight it’s her.

“Mercedes is the oldest in our class, a commoner from Fhirdiad, though I believe she’s originally from the Adrestian Empire. Mercedes’ kindness is rivaled only by Ashe. She’s a sweet girl. Has a very positive attitude towards life. Very religious.

“Lastly, there’s Annette. She’s the heir to House Dominic. Annette and Mercedes are very close. She’s quite intelligent and very friendly but can be seen as a bit absent-minded as she tends to get distracted quite easily. All in all, each of them are wonderful people and I’m sure you’ll have no trouble fitting in.”

The corner of Evy’s mouth rose in a small smile at his words. She could only hope this to be true.

Bright and early the next morning, Evy woke for class and got ready. Since she wanted to ensure she had time to get lost on her way to the classroom, she dug out some fruit she’d packed as snacks for her journey. Thankfully she packed plenty for the road and for a sufficient breakfast this morning.

As she was getting her bag packed and ready for classes, she heard a knock on her door. The only one she knew was Dimitri and wondered why he would be visiting so early in the morning, especially when they had class soon anyway.

Sure enough, her chipper blond friend was on the other side of the door, along with a tall, white/gray haired man with a stern expression. Judging by the protective stance he donned, she could only assume that this was the Dedue she’d heard so much about.

“Good morning” Dimitri greeted her, “How did you sleep?”

“Much better than I did at the inn….” Evy said sheepishly.

Dimitri laughed at her joke, rubbing the back of his head again, “I think nearly anything beats the night at the inn. I was wondering if you’d like to join us for breakfast? I figured it’d be nice to share a meal together since you haven’t really met anyone yet.”

Always thoughtful towards others he was. “I would love to, actually. I’d packed some extra  snacks to have as breakfast so I could avoid a lonely breakfast, but this is much preferred. I’ll just grab my bag.”

Dimitri’s eyes shone at the fact of being able to help his friend. “Excellent! I’m glad to have caught you in time.”

She did as she said and grabbed her things for class, closing the door tightly behind her and locking it. Her cheeks burned slightly as she locked her door. Whether or not it was custom to keep them locked she wasn’t sure, but she knew no one here aside from Dimitri and didn’t know exactly how open Garreg Mach was to wanderers.

“Princess Leighton, this is Dedue, the one I’ve told you about since…well, since you left, in truth.”

Evy met Dedue’s sharp gaze and tried to smile. She felt as if he was analyzing her soul as he stared at her. “Please, call me Evyanna. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. The Prince has told me many lovely things about you.”

“Likewise.” He responded. This took her by quite a surprise. Had he meant that Dimitri had mentioned her to him as well? What kinds of things did Dimitri have to say about her? Hopefully they were positive. She didn’t think she put embarrassing things in her letters to Dimitri for fear they were intercepted or read by any of his staff. Perhaps she was over thinking it and in reality he meant it was nice to meet her as well.

Breakfast was lovely overall. It was nice to have good, hot food after her three-day journey. Food at the inn had been hot, but not even comparable to the taste of the food here.

“Woah, woah. Your Kingliness! Who is your new friend here?” A boy with tan skin and brown hair scooted next to her at the table.

Dimitri sent her an apologetic look before turning to the boy, “Princess Leighton, this is Claude von Reigen. He’s the future leader of the Leicester Alliance to Faerghus’ east and the Golden Deer’s house leader. Claude, this is Princess Evyanna Leighton. Only daughter of King Leighton, the ruler of Zelshire to Fódlan’s west.”

“Zelshire, huh? They say the power of the Zelshire army is unmatched. You gotta be one heck of a fighter to come from there.” He complimented, “I look forward to seeing you in combat.”

“Well, hopefully, I can live up to your expectations.”

“She will.” Dimitri interjected, “She was quite a fighter when we sparred a few years ago. I doubt her abilities have faltered.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Claude smirked, “Well, anytime you wanna pick a fight with someone here, you let me know. I’ll be glad to watch. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with some breakfast.”

They said their goodbyes and continued on with their own breakfast. She quickly found that Dedue was not much for conversation, much like her brother Arlington. Her and Dimitri carried all of the conversation until they had finished eating and it was time to head to class.

Another mental note was made as she noticed that the classroom was nearly full by the time they arrived. Apparently the Blue Lions were just of early risers as she normally was. Dedue strolled off to his seat, while Dimitri led her to the front, presumably to introduce her to the Professor. Upon inspection, she couldn’t find a professor though, just another student that Dimitri had apparently failed to mention.

She heard a gasp and quickly found the source of it, “Evy?! Little Evy!” Sylvain pushed himself off of the desk he was leaning against and stood himself right in front of her, pinching her right cheek.

From someone else in the room she heard a faint, “I feel a headache coming on.”

It was impossible to hide her disdain, and therefore she didn’t try. Her face scrunched as he made contact pulling away slightly. “Yes, Sir Gautier. It is…lovely to see you again.” She said when he removed his hand from her face.

“Sylvain! You cannot pinch the Princess’s cheeks.” Dimitri scolded him, but it did little to deter the tall redhead. In fact, Sylvain completely ignored him.

“Sir Gautier?” Sylvain placed his hands to his chest, “You wound me, Evy. Does that summer we spent together mean nothing to you?”

“I believe you have me confused with my elder broth-“

“Lea!” He exclaimed; seemingly have forgotten about the Leighton he’d spent the most time with. “Oh man, how is he? He still up to his old antics?”

Evy weakly smiled, “Unfortunately.”

“Oh man. We clearly have some catching up to do. What’s a guy like me gotta do to take a beauty like you to dinner tonight?”

Instead of replying, Evy turned to shoot a look towards Dimitri.

The Prince smiled sheepishly, embarrassed by his friend’s bluntness, “I speak to him about it often, but it doesn’t seem to help.”

“I can tell.”

Sylvain rose an eyebrow at the conversation he’d clearly missed, “Talk to me about what? I’m just trying to make our new classmate feel welcome.”

“Is that what you call this? How interesting.” She mused with a grin playing on her lips.

Sylvain took a step closer, seriously invading her personal space in an attempt to appear seductive, “Oh, and what would you call it?”

“Making them uncomfortable.”

Someone in the room snorted. Dimitri tried to stifle his chuckles with a fake cough. Sylvain sighed, clearly defeated. “Oh Evy…how I’ve missed your sass.” He rolled his eyes at her and went back to his seat next to a fellow blonde girl whose hair was in a thick, loose braid.

Dimitri continued on their ascent to the front of the room until they stood in front of another student, “Professor-“

Evy shot Dimitri a surprised look. Professor?! This young girl before her?! She couldn’t be much older than Evy was herself and yet she was teaching?

“-this is Princess Evyanna Leighton, our newest student.” Dimitri continued without missing a beat, as if Evy hadn’t looked at him at all.

“Welcome.” The girl spoke, forcing Evy to meet her gaze, “have you received training in war arts before?”

“Uh, yes, Professor.” Evy was trying hard not to stumble over her words.

“Perfect. And your weapon of choice?” The girl wrote down notes.

She smirked at Dimitri as she replied, “The sword.”

This was a look he noticed and rolled his eyes playfully at. “You’ll never convince me.”

“Really? You wore one yesterday.”

“Yes, because it’s easier to carry in long travel. Just because it is easier in one instance does not make a more superior choice of weapon overall-“

A boy donning long, raven-hair that was thrown up into a messy bun, with odd reddish eyes cut him off. “Woah, woah. What are you two arguing up there?” His voice was flat, sharp even though there was no words of malice in the phrase he spoke. Evy assumed this was Lord Fraldarius’ son.

“She’s trying to convince me that the sword is superior to the lance.” Dimitri explained.

“Because it is.” He countered, “Everyone knows that.”

“I am not at all convinced-“

“Fine,” Felix cut him off again, “Everyone who isn’t an idiot knows that.” Yes, this was definitely Lord Fraldarius’ son.

Evy resisted the urge to giggle, giving Dimitri an amused look. The future Duke calling the future Prince an idiot. This was quite an interesting class she was put in.

“Felix!” The blond girl Sylvain sat next to snapped at the boy and gave him a disapproving look.

“I call them like I see them.”

Dimitri sighed, running a quick hand through his hair, “Welcome to the Blue Lion House, Evyanna.”

She ended up sitting between Dimitri and Felix in the second row behind Dedue, Sylvain, and Ingrid. Though she wasn’t thrilled about being behind Sylvain, she was glad it wasn’t the other way around. Something told her that being in front of Sylvain would lead to her learning next to nothing.

They broke only for lunch, which she spent chatting with Mercedes, Annette, and Ingrid. Dimitri and the rest of the Lions weren’t far down the table, but Dimitri had given her space once seeing she was safe in the hands of the girls. Evy assumed he’d stayed close by, so she didn’t end up eating alone.

“Oh, hi Felix!” Mercedes cut herself off, looking above Evy’s head.

She turned to face the boy as best she could, surprised that he was going to be joining their conversation.

“You said you favor the sword?” Felix asked her, completely forgoing any sort of greeting. His face was set in a hard gaze, still studying her with an interest she couldn’t quite understand. He’d just met her and this was the first time he’d talked directly to her.

“I do.” She replied, but before she could add anything else he spoke again.

“Good. You, me. Sparring after class. I’ll show you the training grounds.”

Evy opened her mouth to reply, but he stalked out of the room before she even got a breath out. Instead, she turned back to her lunchmates, “He’s an…interesting guy. Is he always that way?”

Mercedes giggled while Ingrid shook her head in defeat, “Yeah, Felix is always like that. He spends most of his time training. If he’s not eating, sleeping, or in class, you can always find him there.”

Evy nodded in response, having nothing else better to say to Mercedes’ statement.

True to his word, Felix showed her training grounds after class, as well as the rest of her new classmates. Felix shot them odd glances as they walked but said nothing. Apparently her mates wanted to see how she was in battle for themselves. Remembering her earlier conversation at breakfast, she wondered if someone was getting Claude so he could watch as well.

Mentally, she was exhausted. She had trainers in the past, sure. None of her previous instructors had ever drilled major strategy, formations, and army tactics into her head. She had a lot to learn here.

However, when it came to battle, she was fierce. Years spent forgoing the formation names and tactics were spent honing in her skills on the blade instead. Watching the movements of enemy limbs, foreseeing the attacks they’d make, countering, striking…that was what she excelled at. So much so that Felix hit the ground with a hard smack and a frustrated growl.

She stood up straight, breathing hard from their hard-fought match while the class on the sidelines politely clapped. He was good, great even. By far the most difficult opponent she’d faced in her lifetime. A real challenge.

“You bested me.” Felix stated as he stood. Brushing the dirt off of his pants, he picked up his sword and nodded to her. He wanted to go again. She was happy to oblige.

They sparred so long and often that eventually someone found a small chalk board and kept tally on it. Evy 7 Felix 3.

“Your stamina needs work.” Felix told her, removing the sword from her neck. He was correct. The longer they fought, the more tired she got. The more tired she got, the sloppier she became.

Dimitri, however, stepped up in her defense, “Give her a break, Felix. She spent the last three days traveling with little sleep and then was up early for class. She really hasn’t had time to properly rest.”

“Thank you, Dimitri, but Sir Fraldarius is right. My stamina shouldn’t falter this early. There will be times I won’t have proper rest before battles. I need to be in top form regardless.” She carefully dismissed the Prince with a soft smile. Her eyes found Felix’s, a strange expression on his face. A…smirk? No. She was probably delirious from being tired; imagining that the corner of his mouth was curved upward.

Felix rose his sword up, waiting for her to do the same. She did so, waiting on his mark to start again.

“By the way, call me Felix.”

[40sbarnes]

Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Chapter 6: Don’t Shoot the Messenger

part 6! its a little long i know but i hope you all enjoy it nontheless! 

tw for this chapter: mention of blood and some gore towards the end, pls be careful <3

pairings; lorenzo x reader, (friends) francesco x reader

taglist; @brynthebulldozer @mythicalamphitrite @nano035 @valravnsraven

The fresh linen sheets of the Medici home were calling your name as you made your way down the high street, playing go-fish in unsuspecting Florentine's pockets. However, it wasn't those linen sheets and four poster bed you were retiring in, you were heading home. At least you'd be away from Lorenzo, no bed quality could counter that particular luxury. It has been mission after mission since you began working for Lorenzo, with Jacopo calling on you more and more also, you were exhausted, not to mention the stress of double crossing the Pazzis. You forced yourself not to imagine the consequences if your betrayal were to be found out. You weren't sure how much longer this could go on. You thought it best to wait for something big from Lorenzo to tell Jacopo, so you could go back to just being a Pazzi spy. The extra Medici money was nice, sure, but you'd gotten by before without it, and you weren't certain it was worth all this extra stress. Although something inside you enjoyed working against Pazzi, finally feeling like you were on the right side, your morals weren't going to pay for your meals at the end of the day. You were almost home now, your fingers rapidly losing their stickiness. You decided to think more on the future after some rest. 

The sun was still high in the sky but you were in desperate need of sleep, and were in no mood to wait for nightfall. You skipped up the steps to your room, quickly locking the door behind you, sliding your trusty wooden chair under the door handle for extra security. Your eyes instantly landed on your bed, your fingers fumbled behind you to loosen the drawstrings of your dress before you collapsed into it. 

"I don't think I pay you enough for this," standing up straight at the sudden voice you grabbed your dagger, aiming it towards the noise. At the last second your eyes registered Lorenzo perched on a chair in the corner of your room, a shadow cast across his figure. You moved your wrist just in time that as you threw the blade across the room it landed squarely in the wall beside his ear, rather than in him. 

"That is no way to treat a guest in your home," Lorenzo glanced at the blade inches from his head, pulling it out of your wall to play with it instead. "Have I taught you nothing?" He continued his mockery. 

"You are not a guest," you relaxed your posture, surveying the room, wondering the obvious, "that implies you are welcome here." How did he get in? Lorenzo was taken aback for a moment, it is evident he is still not quite accustomed to the way you treat him, in such contrast to the people he is usually surrounded with. 

"Why are you here, Lorenzo?" You asked when he didn't have a snarky remark. 

"You and I, we have a very poor line of communication," he began explaining, still examining the blade in his hands, "I have a mission for you, yet we have no scheduled meeting so what else was I to do?" The grandeur in which he spoke would lead weaker minded people to believe he was making an ounce of sense. 

"Not break into my home?" You suggested, collapsing onto your bed, which felt undeserving of that title after your sleepover at the Medici's. Your eyes fluttered closed as your head hit your pillow regardless, the exhaustion fully washing over your body.

"Well this couldn't wait, I need you to do this tonight," he continued. You groaned into your pillow, you just wanted a break. "The Pazzi's are delivering something important t-"

You spun to lay on your back, staring at the ceiling, "The Pazzi's?"

"Yes. There's whisperings of a contract of some sort with the Orsini's. Some type of document anyways. It cannot be delivered."

"The Orsini's?" You asked, finally turning to face Lorenzo, looking at him sideways from where you laid.

"Yes we've established the two names," Lorenzo sighed, agitated.

"As in, Clarice Orsini?" You sat up, leaning on your hands.

"Precisely. That's why Jacopo can't reach her uncle before the marriage," he connected the dots for you.

"So you think she'll agree?"

"Mother seems to think so," Lorenzo took a breath, "truthfully we haven't heard from her since the balcony. I hadn't really thought of it since, my mind had been more occupied with fainting spies," his lips turned upwards for a moment, and you shared the tiny grin with him.

"Jacopo certainly doesn't want you to marry her," you informed.

"Hmm?" He hummed, waiting for you to continue.

"I spied on her today, to see if she'd go through with it."

"Are you sure that wasn't your personal vendetta?" He chuckled.

You brushed past his remark before you spent too long thinking about it, "Your cousin tried to convince her, but she didn't seem sold. No offence."

Lorenzo hung his head for a moment, focusing intently on your cracked flooring. "Well, all the more reason tonight is so important."

At that you laid back down, all you wanted to do tonight was sleep. "What is it you want me to do?" Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes closed.

"Use your talents. Intercept the messenger before he reaches Orsini, it’s only a slip of parchment. Just don't get caught," he stood up from where he was seated. You opened your eyes to study him as he moved.

"And return it to you afterwards?" You glanced upwards as he walked closer to you.

"No. Not tonight. I'm... busy," his eyes didn't meet yours. The slight hesitation told you far more than it should've. You turned to look towards the wall.

"Poor Ardinghelli," you sighed, reaching into your dress for your poison. Lorenzo's hand grabbed yours, forcing you to look back at him. He didn't say a word as he took the poison from you, handing you back your dagger in its place. Lorenzo’s lack of comment about his visiting Lucrezia proved the insinuation to be true.

"Relax!" You rolled your eyes as you secured your knife back into its holster. "I wasn't even-"

"Meet tomorrow in my office at dusk," Lorenzo headed for the door. You just nodded, silenced by his sudden seriousness. He removed the chair from the door, going to open it. "Be careful," the foreign words were quiet as they fell from his lips, the sound of the door closing behind him threatening to hide them completely.

—-

A yawn escaped your lips, you hadn't gotten a chance to sleep. You knew if you had rested for the few hours of the mission you wouldn't have gotten back up in time. Instead, you changed into one of your darker coloured dresses, securing a simple belt around your waist to hold a thin sword on. You still had your dagger holstered onto your thigh, but this dress didn't have a leg slit, and the sword was much easier to spar with. You donned a dark cloak on top also, to conceal the sword and your face on the off chance you were spotted.

You had left just after sundown, headed straight for the docks. They were close enough that you could see if someone were to leave the Pazzi property, and you thought you may as well exchange some of the goods you'd collected with Carolina while you waited.

"You don't look so good," she commented.

"Don't get these types of comments from Ol'Bart," you joked, counting the coins she'd handed you, peering up at her from under your hood.

"I'm serious, y/n," she raised a cold finger to your face, trailing your cheekbone which was much more prominent on your face these days. "You're losing the red in your cheeks."

"That's because you don't pay me enough for a proper meal, Carolina," you continued teasing her, you didn't need her coddling you.

"Uh huh," she raised an eyebrow, dropping an extra gold coin into your palm.

"Thank you," you sang, before leaving her stall. The night was getting darker by the second, you imagined the messenger would be leaving soon. You made your way closer, maintaining a safe distance but gaining a clear line of sight. You glanced upwards as a small droplet fell onto your cloak. Watching the dark clouds above begin to spill.  Any minute now...

...Any hour now. You had been waiting in the rain for hours. You had made your way up onto a roof of a nearby building after a while. The traffic of people on the streets had all but died down. All the stalls at the dock were closed, Carolina had long gone home. Lorenzo's information must have been off. All this time, you could've been sleeping. Another yawn slipped from your lips at the thought. The poison was definitely not fully out of your system, you still felt that strange weakness that came with it. You rested your chin on your hands, debating how much longer you should wait before heading home. You felt like you had probably already waited past that point.

Then you heard it, it was loud in the silence of the night. The Pazzi gate creaking open. A dark figure emerged, glancing down the streets before heading off, in the direction you already knew he'd be going. You held in a snort, should've looked up, buddy. You waited a moment before trailing him, dropping onto the next roof with barely any sound. He was quick, being able to walk on a stable path, but you were able to keep up easily for the most part. It was taking a lot of effort to control your breathing, but you were managing. That was, until he made a turn down an alley, and the building was much taller than the roof you were on, there was no way you'd reach it.

Your eyes locked onto him, he was barely taking in his surroundings, and he’d probably gotten used to these simple deliveries. You carefully lowered yourself off the roof, on the opposite side of the building from him, onto the street. You peered around the corner afterwards, he was still headed on in the same direction. You began following him, keeping to the shadows. This wasn't going to be as easy as you'd imagined. It was a lot harder to pick pocket when you were the only two people on a rainy street. But it wasn't impossible.

Catching up to him right as he made his way down the next alley, you scanned your surroundings. Just a few metres away a market stall was positioned against a building, the perfect climbing block to get back onto the roof. That would be your exit. You grabbed the sheets of paper from his satchel with minimal effort, spinning on your heels and running for the stall, remaining light on your feet. You hopped onto the stall, it wasn't quite as tall as you thought. You'd have to jump and pull yourself up, you slid the parchment into your belt and hopped, a hand grabbing your ankle as you did. You desperately tried to grab onto the ledge but it was too far, and you were thrown onto the ground behind you by your attacker.

You glanced up to see the man you'd been following, surprise surprise. "Who the hell are you?" He spoke through gritted teeth, as you attempted to get some air back in your lungs after that fall. He pushed his cape aside to draw his sword, but you drew yours quicker, slicing away his before he could even begin to threaten you with it. He simply watched as his blade fell across the street, allowing you to swing at his ankle. The man fell to his knees, as you stood up, and began running. He spun on his knees, grabbing your blade with his bare hands, attempting to pull you back with it, but you let it fall out your grasp before he could. You kept sprinting, diving down alleys in an attempt to create a distance, but you were tired. Far too tired. The rain made every step feel heavier. His ankle must have hindered him though, as you couldn't hear any footsteps behind you. You were coming up on the docks at the end of the alley, it would be easy to slip through all the smaller houses up here. You glanced behind you, he was nowhere in sight. You were proud of your quick thinking, and spun back around to keep your eye on the new target, when you saw your old one standing at the end of the alley. How had he gotten here? He must've known a shortcut you didn't. He was resting all his weight on his left leg. You had definitely wounded him, but he didn't seem to care. He still had your sword in his hand. You stopped your running at the sight of him, considering your options. He was a tall man, you were exhausted and weak from the poison, not to mention you only had your dagger left buried under your dress to use to sword fight. You spun around, deciding to run the way you had come from and try to escape a different way. He quickly followed, swinging your own weapon at you. He was gaining on you, his strides much longer than yours. You just had to outrun him until his ankle was too much for him to keep going, but you weren't sure that was going to happen any time soon.

One of his aimless swings caught your cloak, he was getting close. You had a last second idea, and untied your belt from your waist. You spun around, holding the belt taught in both hands, attempting to catch the sword, or at least knock it out of his hands. He swung for your head, and you just ducked in time, the blade coming into contact with the tip of your hood, knocking it back off your head.

While you were ducked you slid towards him and kicked out at his ankle, now standing behind him. He seethed and turned, swinging at you again, but you jumped backwards, before looping the belt around the end of the sword, and pulling it towards you and out of his grasp. It went flying down the alley, far out of your reach. You went running for it, but he went running for you, tackling you to the ground, his arms around your torso. You took the opportunity and wrapped your newly weaponised belt around his neck, tightening your grasp on it and pulling upwards, blocking his airflow. He struggled, his arms going from your waist to your wrists, trying to break your grasp. You flipped over, so you were on top of him, pinning one of his arms down with your knee. His free hand kept pulling at you, he wasn't giving up. You lifted his head up from the cobbled stone, before slamming it back down, desperately wanting him to stop trying.  The hood fell underneath him, and you instantly recognised him. He was the man who had been talking to Francesco in the courtyard yesterday. He got his other arm free from under his knee while you weren't focused on it and used it to punch you directly across the face. The shock loosened your grasp enough for him to break free, and grab the belt for himself. You decided to cut your losses and run for your discarded sword. You reached it just as he caught up with you, but he just grabbed your wrist and twisted it, your hand falling open to drop the sword. He kicked it out of your reach. Your eyes switched from the shining metal of the blade up into the unknown man’s eyes.

"I know you!" He breathed out, not letting go of his hold on you.

You shook your head desperately. "You were speaking to Francesco yesterday, don't you work for the Pazzi's?" He seemed genuinely confused.

You ignored him, desperately trying to break his grasp, you learn down, biting at his fingers, finally releasing you. You continued running towards the sounds of the waves, this was bad. He knew you. He could tell Pazzi who stopped him. Your sprinting was suddenly halted as your belt was pulled around your neck from behind, forcing your backwards. He forcefully spun your around, pushing you to the ground. You began punching and kicking, but you pinned you down. You only had one free arm now, and your scratches and punches weren't doing anything from where you were.

"I wonder how Pazzi's gonna feel when we tell him about this," he smirked, knowing this would be a big payout. You spluttered as you struggled to get air into your body. Your throat was closing. You reached out onto the street but your sword was nowhere near. Your whole face was red and he tightened his grip even more, you were holding onto consciousness but you didn't know how much longer you could last. You suddenly remembered your dagger, and desperately kicked out, pulling up the skirt of your dress as quick as possible. Your fingers curled around the handle, pulling it out its holster, before you landed it into the stomach of the man on top of you, the only angle you could really reach. His grasp instantly loosened, the belt falling around your neck.

The man coughed out blood, directly onto you. He slowly looked down at where you'd impaled him. You moved to put both hands onto your dagger, and began twisting it. His weak hands fell on top of yours. "Please," he began begging, "Pazzi needn't know anything. I promise."

"No." You agreed, using all your energy to push the knife up his torso, through his chest, all the way up to his throat, "he needn't." Blood spluttered all over you, you were completely drenched. The man’s body became limp, and you pushed him to the side before it could collapse onto you. You stood up, taking large gulps of air, trying to regain your breath. You took the belt from beside his corpse, tying it back around your waist, before hobbling down the alley to retrieve your sword, sliding it back into its place. You returned to the dead messenger, pulling your blood soaked dagger out of the man’s neck, wiping it on his cloak. Your eyes got lost in his, how easily you could've been him. How in many ways, you were. He was just a Pazzi spy too. You took a deep breath, now was not a time for empathy, before lifting your hood up back over your blood permeated hair, moving on to the task of getting rid of the body. Luckily you were close to the docks.