#no angst nothing just him nearly die and then oh no hes completely fine again

[fanaticallyfleeky]

Weeeeeeell

That was anticlimactic

And not because of you-know-what (😒). But it felt rushed? If that makes sense? Like how did everyone go from gravely injured to completely fine in 5 seconds, no recovery, no nothing. It just felt like half of the episode was missing. I literally checked the length twice just to be sure.

I get the whole “they thought it was the last season bla bla” but then even more this was an unsatisfactory rushed ending on literally all storylines?

I’m a little disappointed, ngl

But nevertheless, love to this fandom 💛 let’s not get divided over this

[stop-talking]

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 4)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 2.9k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, lots of fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, masturbating, caught masturbating, overall mature themes.

slight trigger warning for thoughts of death?? (except Derek isn't really suicidal he's just a drama queen)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

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It's been nearly twelve hours since you accidentally walked in on Derek doing the unspeakable, and you're still kicking yourself for it.

In an attempt to make it up to him, you'd spent the morning making a nice breakfast. Unfortunately, it's almost noon now, and he hasn't left his room.

No way in hell are you going to go knocking on his door. Not after last night. The image of him finishing into his own hand while making eye contact with you is still burned into your brain. Fuck, he ended up covered in cum. And that stupid fucking face he made...

Oh god, think of something else. ANYTHING else.

You turn your attention to the breakfast you'd prepared for the two of you. The cold breakfast. Sighing, you scrape the eggs and bacon into a container for later.

Why did you even open the damn door? Obviously he was jerking off. Horny bastard. Of course, when you'd heard the whimpers and moans coming from his room, you'd assumed he wasn't feeling well.

Which was a valid assumption to make, right?? I mean, he sounded absolutely pitiful, what were you supposed to think? You swore up and down he even called out your name once or twice, but fuck, you didn't want to think about the implications of that.

And so, after knocking and saying his name a few times, you had decided to just go for it. How were you supposed to know he was doing... that??

"It's not my fault." You grumble to yourself, blindly shoving the leftovers into the fridge and trying to shrug it off.

Then again, even if the initial situation wasn't your fault, you still owed him an apology. You'd absolutely been staring. Gawking, even. It probably took a good five seconds before you'd come to your senses and slammed the door, but five seconds was enough for him to... oh god. Stop thinking about it.

You try physically shaking your head to dismiss the perverted images plaguing your mind. It works... sort of. As you make your way up the stairs to his bedroom, your stomach knots with guilt.

Just about anything sounds more appealing than knocking on his door right now. Unfortunately, that's what you're about to do.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek's plans for the day only include one thing, really. Rotting in bed and wishing he was dead.

He figures if he locks himself in his room long enough, the three weeks will eventually pass without him having to show his face to you ever again.

Or he'd die first. With the way he felt right now, that would honestly be fine too.

He groans into a pillow, desperate to hear something than the pounding in his head. He's been trembling all morning, a sign he really needed a fix.

The guilt has been eating away at him almost as much as his stupid withdrawals. He replays the scene from last night over in his head for the millionth time, internally screaming at himself for not covering up. Or locking the damn door.

He knows there's nothing he could have done to change what happened. The timing was just too... perfect. Looking at your pretty face while he came was literally a dream come true.

The aftermath, unfortunately, was a nightmare.

There's no way you don't hate him now. Or at least feel completely disgusted. After all, you'd slammed the door and left him.

So this is his fate. Rot in bed until he wastes away. It's all he deserves, really, for being such a fucking pervert.

"Derek? You still alive?"

He nearly falls off the bed in his scramble to make himself look presentable.

"...Yeah." He eventually croaks out, trying to smooth his curls with one hand and pull the blanket over himself with the other.

"Can I come in?"

Derek begrudgingly agrees, sitting up against the headboard in an attempt to look less pathetic.

You slowly swing the door open, looking visibly relieved when he isn't... exposed. Like last time.

Before he can even think about what he's saying, the words roll off his tongue.

"I'm sorry." You both say at the same time.

Wait, that doesn't make sense. What do YOU have to be sorry for? He's the one that fucked up. Derek's brow furrows as you take a seat on the edge of his bed.

"I- I mean it." He stutters. "I really didn't... didn't mean for you to see that."

He avoids your gaze, turning away as you place a hand on his leg. Well, on the comforter covering his legs, but close enough.

"I know." You seem equally uncomfortable, silently looking around and examining his bedroom. And it is HIS room, decorated to suit his tastes. Unlike the other guest rooms in the house, which are all decorated in shades of pastels and beach-themed paraphernalia.

He squirms a bit, starting to get self-conscious of his own design choices. The dark wood furniture with gold accents stand out against the emerald green walls. Under usual circumstances, he'd feel proud of the expensive atmosphere. Right now... It all felt gaudy.

"I love all the animal print." You say, eyeing a pelt hanging on the wall above his dresser.

Derek winces. Yeah, okay, maybe it was a bit much.

"I picked out these decorations, like, 5 years ago. Cut me some slack." He grumbles, crossing his arms and giving you a pouty look.

"It looks nice." You smile, scooting a little closer to him on the bed, your hand trailing further up his covered legs.

"Don't lie."

"..."

"Okay, It looks like you gave a redneck with no prior knowledge of interior design an unlimited budget and a kilo of cocaine, then set him loose and told him to go crazy."

Damn. He'd be pissed at that if you didn't look so... warm. Even with the harsh words, he could tell you were only teasing.

"To be fair, I probably was on cocaine when I picked all this shit out." Derek snorts, gesturing around to the clashing animal prints, gold-rimmed mirrors and paintings, and wood accent pieces.

That little comment seems to make you waver. Shit. Bad joke?

"Not anymore." He tries to assure you, putting his hand on top of yours. You still haven't moved it from his thigh. "I haven't had anything like that since I got here, and it sucks. I feel like shit."

He slumps slightly against the headboard, letting his put-together act fall. Not like it was a very good act, anyways.

"I believe you, just... I feel bad. I'm sorry for last night."

Derek winces as the topic gets turned back to last night's activities. You didn't even have anything to apologize for, as far as he was concerned. He'd let you watch him cum any day. Make a show of it, if that's what you wanted.

Fuck. Stop thinking about it.

Derek struggles to listen as you ramble, instead staring into your pretty eyes and overthinking the way his hand is still on top of yours. You're saying something about how he shouldn't stay in bed all day, how he needs to keep a routine or he'll end up in a slump.

"...so can we just forget about what happened and move on? I don't think I can stand 17 more days of awkwardness." You finish, giving him a pleading look.

Forget about what happened? Derek's heart sinks into his stomach. He doesn't want to forget. Even though he hates himself for it, he loves what happened last night. He'd re-live it over and over again if he could, minus the part where you freak out and slam the door.

"Derek?" You ask again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Oh. Yeah. Forget about it, please." His face heats up and he finally takes his hand back from yours, nervously running it through his hair instead. He might not what to forget about what happened, but he sure as hell wanted you to forget about it.

"Done." You give him a relieved smile and hop off his bed. "Alright, I'm gonna wait for you downstairs. Come meet me soon or I'll drag you down myself."

Derek does as asked, going through the motions of his normal morning routine. That didn't go as bad as it could have, all things considered.

At least you don't hate him.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Derek eventually trudges downstairs, you already have lunch heated up for him. Or... breakfast? It doesn't really matter.

He refuses to eat at first. Stubborn man. He says he feels nauseous, but how does he expect to get better with no food in his stomach?

After practically forcing him to eat, you settle down on the couch with him and try to decide on a movie.

"We are not watching another stupid action movie." You grumble, snuggling up in one corner of the couch while Derek takes a seat on the other end.

"Well I'm not watching some cheesy chick flick."

"Then what do you want to watch?"

Derek shrugs.

"Oh my god, Danforth. Just pick. Comedy or Horror?"

"Comedy."

"Okay, Adam Sandler or Jim Carrey?"

He pauses for a bit, furrowing his brow in a way that you might find adorable if he wasn't being so damn difficult.

"Sandler."

"Okay then, we're watching Billy Madison." You turn your attention back to the television and smile to yourself as you search for the movie.

"I don't think I've seen that one." He starts to shift in his seat as the movie starts, looking restless. What's his problem?

"Do you want to...?" You look over at him, trailing off and patting your lap.

He nods, and immediately lies down on his side, cheek against your thigh.

"Thanks." He mumbles, looking more relaxed by the second as he makes himself comfortable on your lap.

"Mhm." You hum, turning your attention back to the movie.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't take long for him to start getting restless again. You pretend not to notice the way he occasionally glances up at you, keeping your gaze fixed on the television.

His hand finds yours, slowly tugging it towards his head. You take the hint and run your fingers through his hair, chuckling at how needy he's being.

"Don't laugh." He groans, leaning his head back slightly and melting into your touch. "It feels nice. And I've been feeling like death."

"You'd better not die on me, Danforth. No one would come to pick me up for another two weeks, and I don't think your corpse would fit in the freezer."

"You could chop me up." He offers, shifting so that he's lying on his back, looking up at you with his head across your thighs.

God, that smug look on his face. Why did the bastard have to be so cute?

"Okay, this is getting morbid. Shut up and watch the movie." You do your best to scold him, but it's hard to keep up the façade while gently carding your fingers through his hair.

"Make me."

Without hesitation, you slap your free hand over his mouth. His eyes widen for a moment, the smug look replaced with... something else.

Muffled noises come from his mouth as he attempts to speak through your hand, but you just laugh and continue petting him.

That is, until you feel his tongue on your hand.

"You're lucky you look so pitiful, Danforth, or I'd push you off the couch." You grumble, wiping your hand off on his shirt as he smirks up at you.

"Pitiful?" He scoffs, shoving your hand away from his chest.

"Yeah, sad and pitiful. You're a mess." You taunt him a bit, but your words are just as soft as the gentle touches you've been giving him.

Derek straightens best he can while lying your lap. "I'm not pitiful." He grumbles. "Stop pitying me."

His little act gets another chuckle out of you.

"It'll be easier if you stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"With those puppy eyes."

Derek's brow furrows, and he frowns up at you while you tug at his curls.

"I have puppy eyes?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek spends the rest of a movie in a blissed-out state on your lap. Physically, his body is a wreck. He feels weak, shaky, and all-around ill.

But emotionally? He's giddy. The way you've been treating him lately... there's no way you don't like him.

Fuck, no, don't jump to conclusions. Just ask. Yeah. Simple.

As the credits roll, Derek finally works up the courage to speak up.

"Why do you put up with me?" He asks, shifting to look up at you while his head rests against your thigh.

You pause mid-way through stroking his hair, and Derek is scared you might be able to hear how fast his heart is beating. He can sure hear it, at least.

"What do you mean, love?" You finally respond, untangling your fingers from his curls and setting your hand aside.

That makes him groan out loud. See? Exactly that sort of thing. Always calling him love. It drives him crazy.

"You're just so damn nice to me." He sighs, tossing his head back slightly and closing his eyes.

"Oh? Should I be mean?"

"Maybe." He lets out an amused huff, but there's a twinge of bitterness in his voice. It isn't really a joke. You're just too nice. He doesn't deserve it.

You seem to pick up on his shift in attitude, because you start running your fingers through his hair again.

"It's my job to take care of you, you know. At least for the next... 17 days or so."

Right. Your job. Derek can't help but sigh. He finally finds someone who seems to be interested in him for reasons that aren't monetary... but only because his mother is literally paying them.

"Oh, don't be like that." You scold him, and start to nudge him off your lap.

Derek takes the hint, sitting up. Before he can stew over your words further, he feels you pulling him into an embrace.

The angle is slightly awkward, with his back against your chest and his head resting on your shoulder, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

"Stop... you're gonna make me soft." He grumbles, but makes absolutely no effort to stop your arms from wrapping around him. He melts back into your touch, eyes fluttering closed.

From this close, he can smell your perfume. He's caught a whiff of it a few times before, usually when you get up close and personal with him in the kitchen. It's a soft, sweet, floral scent. Extremely different than the expensive, in-your-face scents of most women in his social circle. He's started associating the smell with comfort.

"Maybe that's my plan." You muse, giving him a tight squeeze before finally letting him go.

If only you knew just how well it's working.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Stop! You're getting sand everywhere!" You swat at Derek as he accidentally kicks sand onto the blanket you've spent nearly ten minutes arranging.

"It's a beach, sweetheart. There's gonna be sand." He scoffs, but carefully brushes off his legs before returning them to the large quilt.

After dinner, you'd realized you accidentally let him go an entire day without going outside. So, you'd dragged him out to go stargazing with nothing more than a blanket and a couple of flashlights.

"There's a difference between lying on top of it and being buried in it." You elbow him as he gets just a little bit too close. There's plenty of room for you to both stretch out, why does he have to be so clingy?

"I'm cold." He whines, grabbing at your arm.

"I told you to bring a jacket."

"I didn't think you were serious?! What kind of a beach is cold?"

You roll your eyes at him. It's not even cold, honestly. Just a bit brisk. There's a soft breeze coming from the ocean, smelling slightly of salt.

"Just cover up with the blanket."

"It's covered in sand."

"And who's fault is that?"

"..."

"Please?"

You finally turn to look at him, and you can feel yourself giving in almost immediately. God damn it. There's no way this man didn't know he had puppy eyes. Fuckin' manipulator.

"Fine. C'mere."

Derek scoots closer and you throw an arm around him, letting him rest his head on you.

You both lay like that for a while, staring up at the sky and listening to the soft crashing of the waves.

The moon is full tonight, illuminating the seemingly endless sand and water. There's a forest made of palms and ferns off to the side, and the leaves all ripple in the breeze.

"It's really pretty." Derek finally sighs, eyes still looking skyward.

"I know. You can actually see all the stars out here. In the city it's harder... light pollution or something." You shrug, making his head bob slightly as it rests on your shoulder.

Derek just hums in agreement. Poor thing. He looks exhausted, even though he slept until midday.

"Hey, don't fall asleep on me now. Not sure I could carry you back."

"I won't... promise..." He yawns and scoots a little closer, his arm reaching over and wrapping around your waist.

You should probably push him off, but damnit... he just looks so peaceful.

You rest your free arm on his, keeping him glued to you. It feels nice, all of it. His warmth, the cool breeze, the sound of the ocean, the twinkling stars... fuck. He's really growing on you.

Derek doesn't keep his promise, falling asleep in minutes.

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Author's note: This chapter took FOREVER!! There were just so many different directions I could have taken the story from the last chapter. Hope y'all enjoyed the one I ended up with!! It was mostly fluff, I know... but Derek is just so cute. I can't help it.

Thanks so much for being patient, and for all the kind comments & asks!!! Feel free to send in literally anything, I don't get many messages in my inbox.

Part 5

[alrightberries]

“may i?”

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff & angst.  ❈ word count: 8k

❈ summary: you’re the medic assigned to take care of captain levi as he heals from the explosion. you’re also the only person he tolerates.

alternatively: in which you create prosthetics for humanity’s most war torn soldier.

❈ trigger warnings: manga spoliers. profanity. mentions of violence, blood, gore, and death. mentions of sexual themes.

a/n: levi’s kinda ooc bc i couldn’t write the progress of his relationship with reader without making it longer than it already is. also this is medically inaccurate (re: healing time of broken bones and amputations) for the sake of the plot so pls no one throw hands. 

Levi doesn't like looking at mirrors.

There was no tragic backstory behind his distaste for the reflective surface, no deeper meaning or hidden symbolism as one would expect from a man with his past. The reason behind it was simple: he just saw no reason to.

He wasn't vain, wasn't too concerned about his face, didn't care much to look at his physical appearance aside from when he had to cut his hair or get ready for the day to look presentable to his comrades. He knew he was attractive, and effortlessly so. The little letters and gifts he’d received from fans and admirers proved as much, and his title of “Humanity’s Strongest” only added to the appeal. Really, there was no reason for him to always be looking into a mirror.

But now... Levi simply couldn’t understand why that mindset had vanished. It was replaced with the fervor to always be staring at his own reflection— not out of vanity but out of disgust.

The disgust of staring at his mutilated face.

He warily lifts up the small mirror he held in his hand, features contorting into a grimace at the man staring back at him. Scars and cuts littered his cheeks— some deeper than others, but none as terrible as the long jagged scar that ran down the right side of his face. It started from his forehead and ended at his bottom lip, held together by ugly black stitches the medics had hurriedly sewn on him the second he got back to the base. His right eye was split in half, completely useless, completely blind; held together by the same black stitches that donned the ugliest scar of all.

And Levi couldn’t help but think that this man was hideous.

He was hideous.

Levi reaches out with his right hand to touch his scars out of habit. He feels his heart tighten when he realizes there’s only air where his fingers should be and he nearly breaks the small mirror he held in his good hand from how hard he was squeezing it. 

The mirror makes a gentle clink as he sets it down onto the mahogany of his desk. Bitterly, he stares at his three fingered right hand. His pointer and middle finger were gone, nothing but pathetic stumps protruding from his knuckles where they used to be. It was still covered in bandages and a makeshift brace so he wouldn’t strain himself when he moved, but he knew it was useless. He couldn’t move those stumps even if he tried.

He probably should’ve been thankful to have made it out of that explosion alive— not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. Though Hange had tried cheering him up (“Look on the bright side, we can wear matching eyepatches now!”) he simply couldn’t find it in himself to celebrate coming back so... useless. 

His writing was as legible as chicken scratches. His right eye spasmed in pain every time he blinked. He couldn’t even try to relearn how to use the ODM gear with his new circumstance, and he mentally curses out his orders to stay put and heal.

Too many things were lost, too many people, too many lives.

All because of that damned explosion.

All because of that damned bearded bastard.

Levi is pulled from his thoughts when three soft knocks reverberate throughout his otherwise quiet office, and he rushes to put his eyepatch on and hide the mirror in his desk drawer. He attempts to sit in what he hopes was a seemingly ‘professional’ position but his stiffness gives away his discomfort. 

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

He feels himself release a breath he didn’t even know he was holding once he hears the voice. Your voice. 

“Come in.”

The wooden door creaks open before it closes with a soft click, floorboards making minuscule sounds at the weight as you make your way to his desk. Levi pretends to look busy as his good eye scans the document he held in his hand. 

The sound of porcelain clinking against porcelain grabs his attention.

“Brought you tea.” You murmured. “I figured it won’t be up to your standards again but I did try my best.”

Levi still doesn’t look up as you set the tray down on his desk, and his good hand reaches for the steaming cup to take a small sip. His eye twitches at the taste.

“If you were going to bring me shit tea anyway then why bother.”

He hears a gentle chuckle but doesn’t see the way you smile at his contradictory words and actions. He made no move to throw the “shit tea” away, something he was infamous for with teas that didn’t meet his standards. Instead, he keeps sipping, gently placing the cup down onto his table once he finished.

“I thought that maybe distracting you with terrible tea would keep your mind off me changing your bandages.” You explained, and Levi nods but doesn’t speak. When silence once again filled the room, interrupted only by the occasional crumple of documents you knew he wasn’t reading, you take it as your cue to pick up your pen and clipboard to start the checkup.

“Have you felt any discomfort or pain in any of your extremities such as your right eye or your right hand?”

“No.”

“Have you felt any throbbing or other sensations in any part of your body?”

“No.”

“Have you experienced any fevers, headaches, dizziness, or sudden spasms in any part of your body?”

“No.”

He hears you set your clipboard down and his skin tingles from your doubtful stare. He didn’t have to look to know it was there. He risks a glimpse at the papers attached to the wooden board in your hands but just as he expected, you didn’t write down any of his answers.

“Have you lied to any or all of the questions I’ve asked during your routine checkup for today?”

“...yes.”

A soft sigh escape through your nose and your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. “Captain, lying to your medic won’t get you to the battlefield faster. You’re of no use to anyone when you’re injured.”

Levi clicks his tongue at your reply but he holds his smart ass comments back. He knew you were right, and it infuriated him so much.

“Fine,” he grits out. “My right eye’s been twitching all day. The fucking stumps on my right hand don’t feel like stumps. It feels like I still have fingers there, and I know it’s complete bullshit since they were lying next to my face when they got blown off.”

His angry glance finally lands on you. “That the answer you were looking for, oh medic of mine?”

It was now your turn to click your tongue. “Not quite,” you mumble, writing down his answers onto the file in your hands. “Feeling your missing limbs even after they’re amputated is normal. It’s called phantom touch.”

You place the clipboard back onto his desk and reach into your pockets, pulling out pristine white gloves before gingerly putting them on.

“Your right eye still spasming though, that’s concerning.” You add. Your hands slowly reach out to his face, and Levi momentarily flinches away out of habit. But you made no move to touch him.

He eyes you warily, tense muscles relaxing even just the slightest as he sees your gentle stare.

“May I?” You ask softly, a caring smile on your face.

Levi only nods, not trusting his words, and he once again tenses up as he feels your hands unbuckle the leather straps of his eyepatch before setting it down onto his table. He keeps his bad eye shut.

Your hands are gentle as you touch his face, touch nothing but a soft caress in such a way that his tender stitches felt no pain. Your eyes are focused on his stitches, lacking any judgement or ill will, and Levi’s suddenly aware of how close you actually were to his face.

Your eyes were beautiful, he noticed. They always were. The little furrow in your eyebrows as you concentrated was cute, and the soft caress of your hands on his cheeks as you inspected his face felt... nice, and dare he even say relaxing. Momentarily, when he finally lets himself adjust to the atmosphere, he lets his tense muscles ease.

“Can you open your right eye, Levi?”

“Y-yeah.”

FUCK.

What the fuck.

Did he just fucking stutter?

Levi’s surprise is only painted on his face for a few mere seconds before he schools his expression back to one of stoicness and neutrality, and he prays to all the existing gods he knew of that you wouldn’t notice.

He risks another glance at you. One of your eyebrows is arched and the corner of your lip is quirked up in a small smirk, but you dared not comment on the captain’s speech mishap.

Fuck. So you did notice.

Before he could try to save face by dishing out some bullshit reprimand of being disrespectful for calling him by his name and not his title, the words die on his tongue as you lean in impossibly close and oh god your noses were almost touching, your eyes are even more beautiful up close, and what the fuck is—

“Captain,” you repeat. “Can you open your right eye please?”

Oh, right.

He doesn’t speak as he does what he was told. He feels his eye open but no vision comes to his senses. 

“It’s looking... not so good.” He hears you mumble, face contorted into one of concern. “It’s actually looking pretty bad.”

Levi scoffs. “Not one to beat around the bush, are you.”

You roll your eyes, the small smile once again returning to your lips.

“How long have you been keeping the eyepatch on?” You ask. Your hands are holding his head in place now, grasp a little more firm but not enough to hurt.

“An hour at most.”

“Are you lying again?”

He sighs. “Yes.”

You nod but made no further comment, leaning back to grab the clipboard once more to write down your observations. 

“So,” you start. “Are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to poke your bad eye?”

Levi’s lips turn into a frown at the notion. “I’ve kept it on the entire day. And I know you’re probably lying about poking my eye, but in case you’re not, no. I do not want you poking my eye.”

You nod your head again, writing more things down onto your little clipboard.

“You should let it breathe. Keep it on for an hour or two at most but take it off when you sleep. Too much friction with the eyepatch might cause irritation.”

As the consultation draws on, Levi tries (keyword: tries) to be as honest as he could. Not that he could be dishonest when you were so good at snooping out his lies, though. You were already used to his stubbornness.

He wasn’t lying, however, when he tells himself that his heartbeat did not speed up when your hands gently held his own as you changed his bandages and cleaned his amputation; he wasn’t lying when he tells himself that the tips of his ears were not burning a bright red, cheeks flushed as you asked him to take off his shirt; and he definitely wasn’t lying when he tells himself that his dick did not twitch in his pants when your hands caressed his abdomen and back, accidentally hitting sweet spots he didn’t even know existed, to inspect his still purple bruises and healing ribs.

Yeah, he definitely was not lying.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” You say cheerfully. “I’ll be back same time tomorrow for another checkup.”

He glances up as he finishes buttoning the last buttons on his shirt. The gloves from your hands are taken off and tucked back into your pockets, and you hand him a small vial full of pills.

“Take one of these, twice a day at most, whenever you feel pain in your right eye.”

“I’m not feeling any—“

“Sure you’re not.” You cut him off with a smile. “I believe you. But feel free to contact me for any pain or discomfort you feel at any time of the day. I’ll be more than glad to find you.”

Levi says nothing, opting to instead stare at you as you gather the now empty teacup and kettle, placing them back onto the tray along with your clipboard and pen.

“Oh, by the way.” You speak, walking towards the door and opening it. You don’t spare him another glance as you finish your sentence. “I don’t think I can prescribe any pills to lessen blood flow to your dick.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and Levi’s momentarily mortified as he processes your words. He risks yet another glance, this time down to his lap.

Shit, he thinks before he sighs. His hands readjust the hard-on in his pants.

Nothing goes past your observant eyes.

���Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi doesn’t bother to look busy like he did last week, you noticed, because this time he was actually busy. Which was odd considering he was taken off paperwork duty until he could write again.

“What’re you up to?” You ask, setting the tray down onto his desk and pouring him a cup of tea. Your eyes curiously glance at the papers scattered about his usually clean desk, each filled with indiscernible writings of his name.

“Trying to write. I’m useless until I can.” He mumbles before he scoffs. “This would be easier if I had all my fingers.”

You nod along to his replies yet made no move to stop him. You picked up your pen and clipboard to write things down as well.

“You’re not supposed to be using your right hand, your amputation is still too tender.”

“Tch, what do you expect me to do then?”

“Uh... use your non-injured, complete left hand?”

Levi blinks at your words, and he has half a mind to slap his forehead for being dumb and not thinking of that. Which he undoubtedly would’ve done had you not pushed the steaming cup of tea closer to his sitting form.

“Have some tea. You look like you’re about to pop a vein.”

Your smart remark is met with silence and a steely glare, and surprisingly, as Levi drank the tea you prepared, he notices it’s not downright terrible.

“Your brew’s better.” 

“Yeah. I finally took your advice of using a thermometer to get ‘the perfect temperature’ after you complained about my ‘shitty tea’ for the nth time that week.”

Levi hides his little smirk behind the teacup, silently reveling in his small triumph before setting it down. From the corner of his eye, he notices you eyeing something, and his heart drops as his gaze follows your own.

The mirror. He forgot to hide the mirror.

Discreetly (or as discreet as he could) he takes the mirror and shoves it back into his desk drawer. You had many questions, that much he knew, but he was thankful when you didn’t push it further.

“Shall we begin?” You ask instead.

“Yeah.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Levi’s been trying to write again, you surmised, as you glanced at his focused eyes and the tenseness of his shoulders. Scattered papers still littered his desk and he was still trying to write his name. This time though, you were relieved when you saw he was using his left hand.

“Finally took my advice?” You asked, pouring him a cup of tea.

“Regretting it.” He doesn’t look up from his task as he answers, something you noticed he always did. “It’s been three days since I took your advice and my handwriting’s shittier than it was then.”

You smile, hand reaching out to hold his incomplete one that was clenched into a fist on the desk. He immediately stops writing, opting to instead stare at your hand atop his before glancing up at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you relax. You might tear your stitches.”

He feels you give his hand a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of your hand is suddenly gone from his own. You reach for the cup of tea you prepared, and he wills his cheeks to not show his blush at the small gesture. You slide the teacup across the table.

“What makes you think holding my hand will make me relax?” He asks snarkily. He reaches for the tea with his good hand.

“Are you relaxed?”

Levi ponders the question in his mind, noticing how his muscles were no longer tense, his shoulders were now slumped down, and his eyebrows were no longer scrunched. He sips the tea.

“Your brew’s still shit.” He replies instead.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I came here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

Your head peaks out from behind his door as you enter, closing it with your foot and making your way to his desk. You were no longer surprised when you saw him still writing and scribbling messily at his desk as he’s done for days now, and you discreetly eye the papers as you pour him his tea.

“You don’t have to keep bringing me tea.” He comments, still focused on writing.

“I know.” You reply. “But how am I going to perfect your brew if I don’t practice?”

Levi glances up, and he raises his eyebrow as he sees you sat on his table, a cheeky grin on your face. He makes no move to scold you for being so casual in his office and instead reaches out to take a sip of the tea. He notices your expectant eyes, the grin on your face widening as he nods in approval.

“Your tea’s not bad today.”

“Really?! You think it’s good?”

“I said not bad, I didn’t say it was good.”

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your daily checkup.”

“Come in.”

The first thing you noticed as you entered Levi’s office was, of course, the scattered paper around his desk, face focused as he continued to practice his writing. The second thing you noticed was that he was no longer using his left hand.

“It’s barely been two weeks. Did you give up already?” You ask as you pour his tea.

“I write better with my right hand.” He simply replies, not even glancing up as you slide him the beverage. He uses his good hand to reach out for the cup, silently preparing his tongue for another unpleasant attack.

He takes a sip and his eyebrows shoot up from surprise. The tea was... delicious, absolutely delicious, and Levi couldn’t find anything to complain about. The temperature was right, it wasn’t too bitter but wasn’t too sweet, and the aroma was delectable. He takes a sip once more to double check if his taste buds were deceiving him, but the second sip was just as good as the last.

His suspicious eye makes contact with yours, a shit eating grin painted on your face as you eagerly awaited his feedback. The porcelain makes a sound as he sets it down.

“You bought this from the tea shop across the barracks. That’s cheating.”

“For fuck’s sake!”

Three soft knocks reverberate through the door to Levi’s office. The captain hastily hides the papers with your name scribbled on, shoving them inside his desk drawer. A shiny glint catches his eye before he could close the shelf and he pauses as he realizes it was his mirror. He hadn’t taken it out in a while. He was always too distracted with criticizing your piss poor tea to even think about his appearance.

“Name and business.” He calls out, still eyeing the shiny object.

“Hange Zoe. Y/N asked me to do your daily checkup.”

Levi's eyes widened, heartbeat stopping for a second as he heard Hange’s voice. Where were you?

“Come in.” He closes the drawer as the door opens and Hange walks in. 

Levi couldn’t help but notice that he was becoming uncomfortable the closer his friend got; skin prickling, hands sweating, his collar feeling a little too tight. Little by little getting more conscious of himself as Hange walked closer.

Was this what insecurity felt like?

He briefly wonders why he didn’t feel it with you, but his mind answers him with a simple fact: you were the only person who’s seen him mangled and bruised, and each time, you showed nothing but gentleness and care. Yet even with this knowledge, the notion that a person other than you would be doing his checkup today didn’t sit right with him.

He pushes his discomfort to the back of his mind, telling himself to remain objective. But it didn’t stop him from subconsciously adjusting his eyepatch and hiding his incomplete hand underneath the desk. He eyes the tray in Hange’s hands, spotting the kettle and teacup.

“I don’t want your shitty tea.”

Hange doesn’t look up as they pour him a cup, humming a tune Levi doesn’t recognize as they hand him the warm beverage.

“It’s not my shitty tea.” They reply. “It’s Y/N’s shitty tea. They made you a batch before they left for the mission.”

Levi’s good hand pauses for a brief second as he reaches for the cup, mind still processing the fact that Hange said Y/N and mission. You hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and since he wasn’t allowed paperwork duty until he could write legibly, he wasn’t aware of any missions.

“I see.” He takes a sip, and he immediately squints his eyes in doubt once his tongue caught taste of the flavor. “This isn’t Y/N’s tea.”

Hange looks up from the clipboard they were writing on, eyebrows are arched in curiosity. “What?”

“This isn’t Y/N’s tea. This is from the tea shop down the road.”

Hange’s confused face stays still for a few seconds, silently assessing whether Levi was being serious or not. A smile cracks on their face, turning into a grin as small chuckles left their lips, before finally turning into full blown laughter. The captain waits for the eccentric soldier to stop cackling and start explaining, but Hange’s answer only serves to confuse him more.

“Nice try, shorty. You crack me up.”

Levi ignores the remark about his height. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N owns the tea shop down the road. Made the recipe for the black tea you love so much, even.”

The captain’s good eye twitches, and if Hange notices, they don't comment. Levi takes a sip of the tea once more, a little more doubtful this time, before sighing in content as the drink makes its way down his throat.

“Why did Y/N go on the mission? I thought they were to be my caretaker until further notice.” He chooses to ask, placing the cup down and pretending to busy himself as he absentmindedly starts practicing his writing.

“Y/N is our topic medic, their skills are more valuable on the battlefield than in an office with you.” They reply, and the captain pretends that the truthfulness of the statement doesn’t sting the slightest.

“Besides,” Hange pulls out white gloves from their pockets, sliding the cloth over their hands to prepare for the checkup. “Y/N personally asked to be reassigned.”

Levi sputters and chokes on his tea at the sudden revelation, and he feels Hange’s hand patting his back as he tries to compose himself. You asked to be reassigned? But why?

“Why?” He manages to choke out before once more descending into a coughing fit. Hange silently hands him a napkin.

“They didn’t say.”

Perhaps you were done with his incessant criticizing of your tea making skills (if so, then why’d you keep brewing him a crappy batch? Clearly you could’ve made good tea whenever you wanted.) Perhaps you grew tired of watching over him everyday when you could’ve been attending to more injured soldiers in the medical wing or the battlefield. Or perhaps you felt a little cooped up in the office with him, hating that you were confined when you could’ve gone on missions to help the wounded.

Whatever your reason may be, Levi finally gets himself to stop coughing and wipes his mouth. Any questions he had, he would ask you. For now, he pushes his feelings to the back of his mind to ask a more important question.

“Why are you here and not on the expedition, Commander?”

Hange shrugs.

“I wanted to bond over eyepatches with you.”

Levi was trying, okay? He was really trying.

But god, the new caretaker assigned to him was nothing short of a complete and utter noob. His bandages were always either too loose or too tight, his touches every time he tried to inspect Levi’s scars were always an ironclad grip, and worst of all, his tea was pure and utter shit.

“Watch it!” Levi barks, and his caretaker jumps about two feet away from him at his yell. “What’re you trying to do?! Are you inspecting my broken ribs or trying to give me a broken rib?”

Oh, that too. His caretaker was the hands on type, something Levi wouldn’t have minded if not for the fact that his caretaker was also heavy-handed, and Levi had had enough of this bullshit.

“Stop it, just stop. Get out of my office, right now, and find me a new caretaker.”

“B-but, Captain, there’s no one else who can—“

His caretaker is cut off when he makes eye contact with the enraged captain. Levi’s eyebrows were knitted together in anger, and the glare on his left eye was nothing short of terrifying. The fact that he only had one good eye left did nothing to lessen the intimidation of his glare; if anything, it made it even more intimidating.

“I will not repeat my order. Go.”

The boy in front of him nods nervously, head bowed down and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as he quickly scurries out of the room. Once Levi hears the soft click of the door shutting, he takes a deep breath and lets his body slump into his chair.

That was the fifth caretaker he’d kicked out this month. He wasn’t picky, he tells himself; he just had standards. Standards that apparently these damned amateurs they kept sending him couldn’t meet.

Briefly, his conscience contradicts him; the image of a certain top medic popping in his mind, one that he hadn’t spoken to in almost a month since they dropped him out of the blue. Maybe, just maybe, he was being picky. With a dash of passive aggressive and a sprinkle of butthurt. But Levi quickly brushes that thought aside when he remembers the incompetence of all his recent caretakers.

That was definitely it. He wasn’t petty, all his caretakers were simply idiots.

The captain hears three loud knocks on his wooden door, and he grits his teeth as he mentally prepares himself for whatever fuckery the clown caretaker they assigned to him was about to do this time. True to his words, Levi did end up breaking a rib from how heavy handed the last one was, and though he knew it was partially because his body was still quite fragile, it didn’t hurt his request for a new medic.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here to do your daily checkup.”

Levi feels his eyes widen and heart speed up, and he once again rushes to hide all the papers scribbled with your name as he shoves them into his desk drawer. He composes himself, trying to appear uninterested and professional as he speaks.

“Come in.”

The door squeaks open and Levi doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes soften and his shoulders slump in relief as he sees the familiar sight of you. A soft smile dawned on your face as you gently kicked the door close, walking towards his desk and setting down the tray you held in your hands.

“Heard you fired everybody who came after me.” You mused, eyes teasing as you poured him a cup of tea. He didn’t think he’d miss someone pouring him a cup of tea as much as he did now.

“Their tea was shit.” He replies, taking a sip of the warm beverage and holding back his sputter at the god awful taste. “Yours is too.”

You chuckle, picking up the clipboard and pen to start writing for today’s checkup. “Can’t help that I suck at brewing tea.”

“You don’t have to keep making me shit tea anymore. The secret’s out.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before you nervously clear your throat. Levi definitely noticed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you own the tea shop, Y/N. Stop lying.”

You let out an irritated sigh. “Hange told you, didn’t they?”

“Yep.” He replies, popping the ‘p’.

I’m going to fucking kill Hange, you think to yourself, silently gathering your composure once more. Levi watches you intently, continuing to sip on the terrible tea before deciding that he’d assaulted his taste buds enough and placing it down.

“Why’d you do it?” You hear him ask. “And don’t lie to me. You’re not the only one who’s gotten better at spotting lies.”

Why’d you brew shitty him tea? Is he that affected by it?

Your reply was already on the tip of your tongue, head glancing up from your clipboard to say your answer. But your words don’t come out and your mind suddenly cleared when you saw the look in his eye.

Levi’s eyes were nothing short of gorgeous; a beautiful gunmetal gray with a gaze deadly enough to kill a man with one mere look. But right now, even though they were schooled into his usual look of disinterest, you could see him... wavering. A mix of unanswered questions, curiosity, and— for the briefest second you swore you saw— hurt.

“I take it you’re not asking me why I brewed you crappy tea for the past three months?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “No, you idiot. I’m asking you why you left out of the blue. If you had a problem you could’ve brought it up with me—“

“No!” You quickly interrupt. “No, god no, you’re perfect.”

The captain’s eyes widen, and you suddenly realize the words you’d spoken as you quickly try to explain before Levi could interject.

“There was no problem, okay? I didn’t request to be reassigned because I had a problem. It’s quite the opposite, actually.” You murmur.

He eyes you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I have a solution. May I?” You gesture, asking if you could sit on his desk. Levi nods, not understanding why you needed permission now when you’ve done it of your own volition countless times before, but he suddenly understands when you sit directly in front him and not across from him like you usually would.

He watches as you pull a small brown box from your jacket, placing it down onto his desk before opening it. Levi is quiet as he eyes the item inside.

“It’s just a prototype for now. I was hoping to carve out a better one in my free time, one that would be a custom fit, but my free time kinda went flying out the window when you started firing people left and right until no one would accept you but me.”

You pick up the wooden prosthetic fingers and gently place them onto his desk. Your hand opens palm up, waiting for Levi to be comfortable enough to lend his hand to you, and he does so silently.

“The prosthetic’s made from redwood and the joints are connected by small metal rods. It’s light and durable, and I weatherproofed it so it wouldn’t break down so easily when you use them.” You explain, unwrapping the bandages around his hand. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out the concept, actually. I just took a pair of standard issue Survey Corps gloves and cut out all the fingers. Then, y’know, attached the wooden fingers to where the pointer and middle should be.”

Levi could only nod. You weren’t sure if his silence was good or bad and you couldn’t read his look. But Levi— Levi was speechless. In his mind, he dared not speak in fear of looking like a fool. Especially not in front of the person who gave back a piece of himself (quite literally, at that.)

He tenderly looks at the way you fitted the prosthetics onto his own hand, fastening brown leather straps around his wrists to secure the glove. The minute the glove is on and he sees all five fingers for the first time since the explosion, he feels like he’s about to cry.

“I had Hange help me with the anatomy so you could still bend them as you would normal fingers. I couldn’t figure out how to make them move on their own though, so you’d have to manually do that yourself.”

To demonstrate, you bend one of the prosthetics, the wood imitating the bend of his finger but not springing back up despite his brain commanding it to do so. You watch intently as he fumbles around with his hand, moving the fingers about. The wonder and astonishment in his usually unimpressed eye didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it spurred  you to continue on.

“Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough to flick the switches on ODM gear. You still have to relearn how to hold your blades when you’re cleared for training again.” You say regrettably. “But it’s strong enough to hold a pen.”

Your hand reaches for the forgotten quill across his desk, dipping it in the inkwell before offering it to him with a small smile. Levi slowly takes it, still speechless, as he readjusts his prosthetic to hold the quill and write.

His writing is still shit, undoubtedly; still no better than chicken scratches as he messily writes down the words. But god, the sight of the indiscernible handwriting next to five fingers brought tears to his eyes as he finally finished writing his name. The slightly legible letters of ‘Levi Ackerman’ stared back at him.

Levi couldn’t hold it back anymore. He immediately set the quill down before standing up to engross you in a warm embrace. You tense in his arms, not used to Levi willingly initiating any form of physical touch at all. But as he tucks his head into the curve of your neck and his shoulders start shaking, splotches of wet dripping onto your collarbones, you feel your arms encircle his waist, bringing him closer as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear and let him cry in peace.

Your hands ran through his scalp, willing him to calm down. Though normally the sight of a crying Captain Levi was something you never thought you’d see, you couldn’t help but feel honored he chose to share this rare moment of vulnerability with you.

You let him cry, still holding onto him, giving him his time. Briefly, you wonder what he was thinking. What pushed him to tears? Did the captain ever let himself mourn his losses? Does he mourn his friends, his family, the little pieces of himself that he’d lost along the way?

Though you had a million questions in your mind you dared not pry as you continued to comfort the weeping man in front of you.

Finally, after a few moments of nothing but silent sniffles and your sweet words, Levi finds it in himself to finally speak.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Night had fallen around the base, encasing the world in darkness that beckons slumber. Levi continued to stay awake, still in his office, staring at the prosthetic you had given him hours before.

Curiously, he feels himself form his right hand into a fist, not surprised that the two wooden fingers didn’t comply like the rest. It was imperfect and he himself thought it could use some tiny adjustments for the sake of comfort— something he definitely would bring up to you as requested.

And yet, despite knowing his ‘fingers’ were nothing but wood, leather and metal, he couldn’t help but think it was the best thing he could ever ask for. 

Silently, under the lone glowing light of his oil lamp, Levi pulls out a blank sheet of paper and begins to turn his feelings into thoughts, thoughts into words, and words into sentences as his quill meets the white surface.

Hours later, he finds himself in front of your quarters, a candle in his left hand while his right held a pristine white envelope. The envelope containing unsaid words, unspoken wishes, and hidden feelings.

Your eyes are sleepy when you answer the door, half lidded and hair a mess when his knocks had woken you from your slumber. You rub your eye, adjusting to the light as you stare at the person in front of you.

“Captain?” You ask, stifling a yawn. “What’re you doing here so late?”

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he opts to look at you with an unreadable expression as he asks, “Can I come in?”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, and the thought of you slamming the door on his face crossed Levi’s mind; but that didn’t happen. Rather, you nodded and ushered him inside your bedroom, closing the door behind him as you once again flopped onto your bed. 

He places the candle down on your bedside table and now he was unsure what to do. He had a plan— or, he thought he had a plan— but awkwardly standing in your room in the middle of the night wasn’t part of it.

Quietly, you chuckle at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest looking so odd and out of place, unsure and slightly panicked. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to sit, and he complies.

Both of you had your knees pulled up to your chests and you were thankful when you noticed Levi had taken his shoes off before sitting on the bed. A comfortable silence encompasses the atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the close proximity. 

From the corner of your eye, Levi looked like he was deep in thought. Not the kind you saw plenty of times in the battlefield or in strategy meetings, not the kind you saw when you entered his office as he hastily tried to hide his mirror. But the kind you saw when he quietly suffered through his own living hell. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, finally breaking the silence. He shakes his head. 

“Well, what brings the mighty Captain Levi to my humble little room?”

“Levi.” 

“What?”

“Call me Levi.” He murmurs, downcast staring intently at the envelope on his lap. “In this room, I’m not your captain. I’m not your patient. I’m not Humanity’s Strongest.”

You feel your eyebrows scrunch as surprise and curiosity paint your face, but not because of the captain’s offer to call him so casually. No— the surprise you showed was because he unclasped the prosthetic you made, not even sparing it a second glance as he carelessly threw it to you, and you barely managed to catch the limbs you’d spent countless hours and sleepless nights to create.

“Levi, what are you—“

“But I’m not a broken teacup for you to fix either.” He says, eyeing the stumps on right hand. “I’m not a doll who’s missing some parts. I’m not a charity case accepting donations.”

You were looking at him now, head turned in his direction as he unclasps his eyepatch and lets it fall onto his lap. He raises his head, eyes making contact with yours.

“I’m just Levi.”

A few moments of silence pass but neither of you look away. The reason why the captain continued to stare wasn’t something you knew. But the reason why you never looked away was because of his eyes. 

Levi’s eyes were still as gorgeous as you remembered them to be. Though his right eye was a different shade from his left, a lighter and paler shade of gray; though it lacked the light and emotions his unharmed eye bore; though it had a jagged scar running through it from where he was hit, you couldn’t help but think that his eyes were still the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

Gingerly, you lift up your hand to touch the right side of his face where his battle wounds lie, the prosthetic forgotten as it falls somewhere in the sheets. He doesn’t flinch like he did the first few times you did it, when you reached for his face during checkups to inspect his scars. But it didn’t stop you from asking.

“May I?” 

Levi doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings your hand to rest on his cheek as his head leaned closer to your touch. His eyes closed momentarily, almost as if he were reveling in your warmth. But they opened once more, and you willed yourself not to get lost in the sea of gray.

“You were never a charity case to me, Levi. Or any of the things you just said.”

“Then what am I to you?”

Your heart stops, eyes widening ever so slightly at his question. Would you tell him? No, you couldn’t. Not when—

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, not enough to hurt but enough to distract you from your thoughts. You realize the hand that held your own against his cheeks was his broken hand, his mutilated hand.

...would you really tell him?

You sigh, eyes finally leaving his. “You’re just another soldier who got hurt from a battle, asking a medic to take the pain away.”

Your hand slips out of his grip and goes back to your side, and you turn away from him once more. 

“Are you lying?” He asks.

“No.”

“Then look into my eyes and tell me what I am to you.”

“I can’t.”

Your voice cracks ever so slightly, hesitant but determined to stick to your words. And Levi knew that he was never going to get an answer. He sighs, shoulders slumping down in defeat. It was now his turn to look away from you, gaze falling to his lap. The envelope holding the letter crinkles and he’s reminded why he’s here.

“I know.” He whispers back. “But do me a favor.”

He doesn’t look your way as he hands you the letter. He doesn’t look your way when you silently took it, eyeing the red wax seal that bore his initials, fingers tracing over the edges before—

“Don’t open it yet. Open it tomorrow morning before you come in for my checkup.”

You only nodded in response. You reached out, placing the envelope on your bedside table before once again sitting next to Levi. Just as you had started, a comfortable silence blankets the atmosphere. Shoulders touching, heads not daring to turn because of the proximity.

But this time, it was he who breaks the silence.

“I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what the future holds.” He repeats. “I could die in action tomorrow and be one of the bodies they wheel back from war, or you could die trying to save someone in the battlefield. Even if neither of us die tomorrow, there’s always a possibility that we’ll die the day after that. And the day after that and the day after that. Such are the risks of our jobs.”

He takes a deep breath. “But tonight, I don’t want to focus on tomorrow. I don’t want to focus on what the future holds. I don’t want to focus on titans or enemy troops or looking after my team.”

“Then what do you want?” 

“You.” 

Your eyes soften. “But what am I to you?”

You didn’t know what to expect, what his answer may be. But you know you didn’t expect it when Levi’s fingers gently grabbed your chin and coaxed your head to look in his direction. You didn’t expect it when you opened your eyes and met his, his warm palm resting on your cheek. And what you didn’t expect most was for his eyes to look at you with so much love, so much care and adoration. Gone were the facades of boredom and disinterest; the stoicness and detachment they always seemed to reflect. All there was left was softness, warmth, and what seemed to be the unmistakable swirls of vulnerability.

“You’re just another medic too busy putting other peoples’ lives before your own.”

“Are you lying?” 

“No.” He whispers. “But you make me want to plan for a future I know we won’t have— a future we can’t have.” 

And for the first time, you knew he meant it. You knew what he meant. 

In your line of work full of death and violence and risks almost too big to take. In what you once thought was your little world, turning out to be too big for you to handle. In your personal brand of hell where tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, and loss was the only constant— it was enough. This small moment was enough.

“You have the most beautiful eyes.” You whispered, entranced. A soft chuckle leaves Levi’s lips, eyes turning into crescent moons so fitting of his gray orbs and your heart twitches at the sight and sound of his melodious laughter.

His thumb brushes over your cheek and your eyes meet his once again, the beautiful shades of gray staring you back. You didn’t know who did it first but at this point you didn’t care enough to find out because slowly, you both leaned in. Slowly, you both closed your eyes. And slowly, you both tilted your heads.

He pauses.

“May I?” Levi asks, lips merely inches away from yours. You nod.

“You may.”

And suddenly, the distance between your lips was no more.

There were no fireworks, no explosions in your heart or butterflies in your belly. There was no feeling of cloud nine, no feeling of want or need. There was only warmth in your chest, the feeling of a small fireplace crackling and glowing in the coldness of the night. The feeling of warm sheets and warm bodies cuddled up in an embrace.

Home. 

The feeling of home.

Because that’s what you were to Levi, and what Levi was to you.

“Name and business.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m here for your routine checkup.”

“Come in.”

As the door opens and you set the tray down on his desk, hands gently holding the kettle to pour him his cup of tea, you noticed that Levi was still trying to write. But what caught your attention wasn’t the fact that it was no longer his name he tried to scribble, opting to write down complete sentences. What caught your attention was that he was wearing his prosthetics, and his eyepatch wasn’t on.

“Did you read the letter?” He asks. His hands were still writing and his eyes were still staring at the papers in front of him. But you could tell he was anxious.

“Yes.” You simply reply, and he nods.

“Good.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[xgiannax]

i love your stories so much! 😊 nobody else really writes mha x reader ticklefics :<

i was wondering if you'd be willing to write one with dabi? 👉👈

no particular scenario :3

This is the best thing because I’m such a Dabi simp😭 I feel like I write ab Bakugou the most but I’m literally in love with Dabi so yes absolutely here ya go lol (there a little bit of angst)

You turned off the light in the bathroom, griping your towel around you and shuffling into your bedroom. Your eyes flickered over to the clock and the later it got the more worried you became, after picking up your phone and seeing no text or anything from Dabi your mind started to race. Every day at 1:30 am, he would sneak into your house for the night. If he was late he’d usually text you or something, it’s now 9 am. Nothing. Because he is a villain and he knows how dangerous it is, he hates when you worry about him so he would never just forget to tell you that he’d be late. You slipped into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, not bothering with anything else since you had nothing to do today.

“Where the fuck are you?” You mumbled plopping down on your bed clutching your phone in your hand, a loud thump coming from somewhere in your house made your head whip in the direction of your closed bedroom door. Immediately your mind raced to all the worst explanations as to what it could be, none of those explanations made you eager to investigate though.

“Nope. I refuse” you mumbled finally, that’s how people die in- thump

“No. Nope, no ma’am” You panicked quietly as you scrambled around your room to find the baseball bat Dabi insisted you keep, behind you the bedroom door ripped open and you screamed in surprise wasting no time whipping the bat as you turned around

“What the fuck-damn y/n it’s me!” Dabi ducked, quickly jumping forward to grab you in his arms

“Hey! Will you open your eyes?!” You paused finally looking up into his intense blue eyes, you breathed out a sigh of relief letting your arms drop “Damn. At least I know you won’t go down without a fight” he mumbled chuckling a little

“Oh, Dabi-Dabi” You repeated his name again, your sigh of relief turning into a glare. He quirked up an eyebrow a slightly worried expression flashed across his features for a second

“Yeah? You’re fine now can I have the bat-no? Okay-“ you stepped back out of his reach in full on glare mode now

“Where the hell were you??” He crossed his arms sighing

“What do you mean?” He said, and your mouth dropped open only slightly.

“You didn’t call or text or anything, I’ve been here worried somebody took you out or something like that. I don’t care if you decided you didn’t want to come over at least let me know you’re alive Dabi” he scoffed a little raising an eyebrow

“So you want me to check in? Like you’re my mom? You’re not, so I don’t have to. And you really think someone could take me out. Use your fucking head next time maybe?” he leaned down for a kiss, his face inching toward yours

“Fuck off, don’t talk to me like that you ass” You palmed his face pushing it away and he let out a muffled noise of surprise that if you weren’t so annoyed with him, would’ve made you laugh. You dropped the bat in its place beside the bed and padded around him with crossed arms, of course he followed you hot on your heels

“So no good morning kiss?” He asked following you into the living room. He sat on the couch and You scooted away from him, crossing your arms.

“You’re really going to treat me like this?”

“Treat you like what-“ you whipped around to face him, pausing when you saw the shit eating smirk on his face. He’d made you talk, you internally face palmed for not even lasting 5 minutes. You groaned getting to your feet and storming into the kitchen, again he followed much to your dismay

“You can’t ignore me for much longer, baby” he said lowly. You ignored him pulling down a glass to get some water, making him frown at you back. Dabi pressed his chest again your back, putting his hands on the counter in front of you to trap you. “You look really good in my shirt right now, y/n” the way your name rolled off his tongue so close to your ear made your face hot, and you quickly lifted to glass to drink so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. Dabi smirked knowing your were trying your hardest to ignore him and slowly failing

“You know you never last long when you give me the silent treatment baby, just give it up and talk to me.”

He teased moving from kissing your cheek to your neck, making you instantly scrunch up your shoulders like he thought you would. He moved to wrap one of his arms around your waist keeping you from running

“Huh? Did you just giggle, y/n? What’s funny?” He nuzzled your neck and you squeaked nearly dropping your water

“Mohohove” You sneered pulling at his hair, he laughed at your weak attempts to get him off you

“Harder, y/n” he mumbled and you let his hair go completely flustered and not able to hide it now

“Gohoho away-AHHAH!” Dabi blew a loud raspberry in the side of your neck and you couldn’t hold back the laughs that escaped you, struggling harder and soon escaping his grip to run away

“Dabi stop! I’m trying to be mad at you right now leave me alone!” You shouted over your shoulder, slipping over the back of the couch to put distance between you two

“All you have to do is accept my apology and I’ll leave you alone, kitten” he said smugly slowly trying to inch toward you without you noticing

“First off, no you won’t you’re lying and second you didn’t even apologize” you squinted at him

“Fine. I’m sorry” he said rolling his eyes

“Whatever” you dismissed, waving your hand at him. He raised his eyebrows, giving you a warning look

“Oh yeah?” You screamed as he rounded the couch so quick you didn’t have time to run and was instantly thrown over his shoulder

“Should’ve just accepted my apology, now I have to take drastic measures” the playfulness in his raspy voice quickly eased the tension between you two, of course you accepted his apology but you couldn’t tell him that you forgave him that easy!

“Dabi Im not kidding, leave me alone!” You tried to sound serious, but failed miserably when he dropped you on your back on the bed

“You’re not kidding, huh?”

“No! I’m seriouHAHAHAHS STAHP!” Your hands shot down to try to grab his wrists, but his hands jumped from your hips to your thighs too quick for you to catch

“Mm I don’t know babe you don’t seem so serious-“

“FUHUHCK OHOOFF!” You screamed clamping your arms to your sides when he dug his hands into your under arms, he smirked down at you

“We wouldn’t be here if you would just accept my apology-“

“OKAY OKAY I ACCEPT IT!” Dabi pulled his hands away, laughing and trapping you underneath him. He grabbed the front of the shirt you were wearing pulling it to turn you on your back so he could kiss you, you kissed back realizing that you missed not having him home with you last night. He pulled away rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly

“Seriously though, I guess I am sorry for talking to you that way. I had a long night and the only time I’m able to sleep is when I’m laying next to you so-I was just tired and irritated”

“It’s okay I forgive you. Also, can’t believe you’re actually apologizing to me this adorable” he rolled his eyes plopping beside you on the bed

“Shut up”

[lrissa]

SPOILERS FOR NON MANGA READERS

trouble

summary: you never feared of levi getting hurt, until he did

warning: descriptions of violence, gore, angst

Cold, wet rain soaked through your jacket. The never ending crying from the sky leaving it’s wrath on the grassy ground below. Riding alongside Hange but with Floch’s crew you were out looking for Levi and that monkey bastard. Clinks from the horse’s hooves against the stone engraved bridge filled the silence.

Raising a hand you wiped the fresh drops of rain off your cheek and scanned the surroundings. It was odd of Levi to not return, assuming the worst you swallowed the pit in your stomach and pursued forwards.

From a distance, an echo from a bomb crossed your ears. Your head whipped to the explosion with widened eyes, although, you couldn’t see any damage from your position.

“What was that...?” Floch asks

“Maybe lighting?” Responds a cadet

Taking the reigns of your horse you turned to the sound, “That was a thunder spear.” You corrected and gazed at Hange, you could tell she was thinking of a possible explanation.

“If we head to the sound we can find something.” A cadet proposed, its horse walking beside yours and Hange’s. Hange tore their gaze from the explosion and looked between the two of you before nodding their head in agreement.

You were quick to respond and smacked the reigns, the horse beginning it’s gallop to the sound.

Before long Hange rode up beside your horse in sync, pulling their hood down a bit before sparing you a look. “Y/N, there is a possibility it could be Levi—“

Shaking your head you cut them off, “I know, I know... That’s why we need to get there.” You replied in a hushed tone, lowering your head away from them. Your care and concern for Levi never went unnoticed by Hange.

“Of course, we’ll get there.” They nodded and gave you a small grin, you returned the gesture with a tiny smile.

Not before long, the group of cadets came across a cart and two mutilated horses. The horses appeared to have suffered a sad fate. Wood planks and sharp stakes were sunk into their skin with blood and dirt coating their fur. Surrounding the site were other pieces of the broken cart and parts of legs and arms littered with pools of blood.

“Wh— What... happened here!?” Floch asked aloud

Ahead there was a titan laying on its stomach, steam oozing from its body into the air. You gripped the reigns and pulled back, halting the horse from advancing.

“Be careful! Titan ahead!”

“There’s body parts everywhere!”

That made your blood run cold, where was Levi? Was he okay? Was that his leg?

“Commander Hange! L/N! You need to stay still!” Ordered a cadet

Eyes surveying the land by the river you came across a green coat with the survey corps emblem, orders went to the wind and you smacked the reigns. Galloping over before jumping off, nearly slipping from the wet grass. “Man Down!”

You slid to your knees beside the body, bringing it to your lap for support. Gently, you placed a hand behind its head and tilted it forwards. The haircut was strikingly familiar to Levi’s, fear clutched your chest as you shakily revealed the identity.

“...Levi..?”

He had small pieces of wood stuck in his cheeks and temple. Blood and soot stained his face and streamed down his pale face. There was an obvious cut reaching from his forehead to his chin, dirt was deep into the wound, likely to be infected soon. He was in such horrible condition, your fingers shook as they rubbed across his rain-soaked cheek to collect filth.

Your other hand went to find a pulse, biting down onto your lip to stop the cry trembling on your lips. Thankfully, there was a faint pulse.

Tenderly you brought him to your chest, clutching onto him with shaky arms. Grief and relief flourished inside your chest, strangling your heart causing a constant sinking feeling.

“Levi... don’t leave me yet.” You muttered into his hair, placing a soft kiss on top of his head. Tears stung behind your eyes, desperately wanting to fall.

Soon the rest came from behind, Hange crouched down beside you and set a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it to calm you down.

“I don’t know what happened here, but... we got lucky. Our biggest threat covered in his own blood.”

Your eyes tightly shut and tightened your hold on the faint man clutched to your chest.

“I’ll send a shot through his head.” A cadet spoke, hoisting a shotgun up and cocking it.

Hange clenched their jaw and shook their head, “He’s Dead.”

“I saw something similar in a training accident. His organs are in even worse shape than how he looks. He died immediately.”

Floch stared down at the three, shifting the gun in his grip as if it was a warning.

“I know how to take a pulse. Let me see him.” He commanded

You held onto Levi tighter, no movement from your end. Floch sighed and began to walk forwards to rip him away from you.

“Floch! Somethings strange about that titan!” A cadet yelled

You looked up and at the titan, steam was being sucked into it at an alarming speed. The sky above seemed to clear as it continued to steal the steam from the air.

“Is it disappearing?! Did it die?” Floch wondered aloud

“No...” Whispered Hange “They don’t normally suck steam into themselves when they disappear.”

A laying figure began to stand, its skin was pale and almost perfect. There were no scars, cuts, or blemishes anywhere to be seen.

You saw the hint of blonde hair and let out a soft gasp, of course Zeke is alive, and completely naked.

Your eyes widened in fear and Hange looked back at you, tilting her head to the river. You nodded subtly and tightened your grip on Levi.

Hange jumped in and you shortly after with Levi. Cold water met your skin like a hard painful slap to the face. You heard loud shouts from afar but they were distant now. Floating to the surface you let out a deep breath, gasping for air and instantly looking to Levi.

A hand grabbed your arm and you gasped, head snapping to the owner.

“Hange..” You choked out, water still lingering in your lungs. They gave you a weak grin and helped you heave Levi out before grabbing your hand and lifting you from the water.

“Come on, they’re close. Find something to cover his face.” You nodded and looped your arms under Levi’s arms. Using your strength to hoist him up and into the forest, for being short he was considerably heavy.

Setting him on the ground gently your eyes glazed over his face. You felt tears re-emerge, ignoring them you took out the wood pieces stuck in his face. Planting a hand to his cheek you rubbed your thumb softly, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“I know you’re there, Levi.” Leaning down you planted a tender kiss to his forehead, slowly pulling away and undoing the coat around his neck. Instead wrapping it around his head and tying a knot to secure it.

You heard a gunshot and shot up, stumbling to the edge of the forest were Hange was. They held a rifle, lining it up at the advancing person and shooting. Hange lowered the gun and wiped something from their cheek.

“Hange,” You walked to them and planted a hand on their shoulder, giving it a squeeze of reassurance to lighten their mood. “Levi will be fine, he’s not one to die so easily.” You spoke softly, attempting to calm them and yourself.

Hange nodded, “And surely not by the monkey.”

Walking back to Levi you stood on either side of him. “Levi.. There’s no one pursuing us now.” Hange sighed.

The two of you trudge, carrying Levi between the two of you until you found an abandoned camp. Levi was laying on a white sheet as Hange worked on disinfecting and stitching the deep wound across his face. You sat on the other end of the bed, your knees brought close to your chest for comfort.

Hange was speaking but you reached out and looked under the thin sheet to find Levi’s hand, grabbing it with gentleness and holding it.

Hours passed and you were still sat beside Levi, clutching his hand while Hange was ahead assembling a broken cart.

Then suddenly, you were sitting in sand. Your eyes shot open and around you was nothing but small sand hills and behind you a bright blue almost resembling a lighting strike that stretched to the sky and broke apart like veins.

And you were back to normal just as fast, blinking you hadn’t noticed the weight lifted from your hand and Hange yelling something.

“The beast.... that piece of shit.. where is he?”

“Levi!” You spoke loudly, he lightly cringed at your vocalness, whispering a soft apology before grabbing his shoulder and easing him back down onto the sheets. “Don’t get up.”

“Zeke left to the Shiganshina district with the Yeagerists, half a day has passed.... What happened?” Hange questions

“I screwed up. I wasn’t able to... figure out that he was ready to die.. I let him, get away again.” Levi explained before shutting his eyes and resting his head on the pillow, bringing his injured hand up that was missing his pointer and middle fingers.

“I know you want revenge, but for now...” You started

“If we keep running and hiding what will that get us?” Levi retorts

Hange and you remain silent as he sighs.

“Hange, I know you’re not able to stay out of the action” Levi comments as he peels his eyes open again.

“Yeah, that’s right. I cant.”

She gets up at that and returns to the cart, grabbing the hammer and nailing in a new screw.

It was silent between you and Levi, his eyes shifted to the sky then to you. Mindlessly noting the drowsiness glazing your eyes and circles under your eyes.

“Y/N, you worry about me too much.” Levi comments. Your head turns to him in surprise, “What do you mean?” Levi sighs “It doesn’t take an idiot to notice you haven’t slept.” “Oh.”

You look away from him, shaking your head. “I wanted to be there when you woke.”

Levi tore his gaze from you and let his eyelids close. You let out a breath of air and leaned over Levi, giving him a delicate kiss on his bandaged forehead before standing.

“Get some rest Levi.”

“Come back.”

You halted in your exit and began to retrace your steps back to him, towering above him as he looked up at you expectantly.

“Lay down.” He ordered and you stared back at him, hesitantly you lowered yourself to the ground and crouched there for a moment. You were testing his boundaries, unsure if he’d yell at you to scoot away from him.

He was beginning to become impatient, grabbing your wrist and tugging you closer to him. You were shoulder to shoulder with him, releasing your wrist he let his eyes shut once again. An intense feeling bloomed in your chest, blush creeping up to your features.

“It’s cold out here and four eyes didn’t give me very comfortable sheets.”

“I see, goodnight Levi.”

lol i haven’t wrote in forever i’m sorry this was bad

also new theme sort of

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝖒𝖎𝖉𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊

_______________________

ɴᴏᴍᴀᴅ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴀᴜ ɪsʜ)

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After the events of Thanos (pretending no one needed to die and he doesn’t leave everyone for some dry coochie) , you and Steve have had this nightly thing going on and you’ve had enough being second choice. Being nothing but something to warm his bed just to leave in the morning.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: little bit of angst (so bad at writing angst), age gap (not specifically mention but implied), smut 18+ (rough sex, degradtion but also praise lol, unprotected sex, slight hair pulling, mirror sex, choking, oral fem receiving, i think that’s it idk)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟻.𝟸ᴋ (ɪᴅᴋ ᴡʜʏ ɪ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀss ᴘᴏsᴛs, ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ᴄᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ʟᴍᴀᴏ)

________________________

“Well, I see you tomorrow,” Steve said, gathering his clothes yet again bolting out the door.

You didn’t say anything in return, just laid facing your back away from Steve as he left you just like he always does. You knew what you were getting yourself into when Steve first asked you do have sex with him. No strings attached just mindless fucking, getting laid for shits and giggles. 

At first it was fine, not exactly what you wanted but you loved Steve and you were willingly to take what you could. You and Steve had a pretty close relationship beforehand and became even closer after the initial offer. But then after a while, he started to become a bit more distant. Only talking to you when he needed to and leaving your side before the sun even came up. 

You thought it was something you’d done but he assured you nothing was wrong. But now every time you he sneaks out of you room to pretend like you didn’t just fuck each other into oblivion, you felt dirty and gross. But you let him back every night pretending to be ok with this, like you didn’t wish he would kiss you and tell you you’re beautiful.

Steve opened your door ready to leave telling himself, Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Of course though he looked back and watched your naked form tug the sheets bringing them up to chin curling in on yourself. He wanted to stay but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that to you. 

You were still young and he had so much history and baggage. Part of the reason he even considered going back to 1945. He wanted to curl up behind you and whisper in your ear that things were going to be okay. He wanted to hold you and keep you warm, especially with winter coming to New York rapidly. 

Because as he said he couldn’t do that to you, you didn’t deserve it. This nightly thing was ruining yo and it was his fault. Steve decided then he had to end this; for his sake and yours.

+++

“Hey kid, you ok?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” you retorted, trying your very to suppress all memories of the last night. Steve was standing across her with cup of coffee in his hand keeping his eyes from looking into yours.

“I heard you crying last night when I passed your room,” she said softly, running her arm against yours in comfort. Natasha was like the mother you wish you had. You pretty much told her everything.

“Why were you up so late?”

“I was watching a movie.”

“Oh. Can we talk later?’” you asked her.

“Of course.”

Steve knew exactly what was wrong. What you two were doing wasn’t good for you guys anymore; but you couldn’t stop. You ate breakfast and rushed back to your room. Nat came in a few mins later closing and locking your door so you could talk with no intrusions. 

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked sitting on your bed. 

“I need to tell you a secret,” you whispered.

“Ok,” she leaned in smiling.

“Me and Steve,” you paused, “we’ve been having sex.”

There was a long pause but it wasn’t Nat to register what you. Of course she fucking knew. Her room was directly next to yours.

“You’re not saying anything. Why aren’t you saying anything?” you panicked.

“Hon, our rooms are next to each other. There’s a reason I stay up late watching movies.” 

“Oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize we were being a bother! Please don’t tell anyone,” you panicked even more.

“I’m not and haven’t said a word.”

“Ok, because if anyone finds out Steve is gonna be really mad.”

“Hey no one’s gonna know,” she assured you.

When she asked how all this came to play you told her everything. She had a suspicion that you had feelings for Steve and when she heard two going at it like rabbits she merely thought you wanted to keep the relationship secret. To say she became livid at Steve for taking advantage of you was a completely understatement. She wanted to kill him. 

You asked her if she would let sleep in her room tonight so she could avoid Steve at least for one day. After she said yes, you asked if she wanted to play video games but she said she’d watch you. You gamed for a while and started to get really hungry after a few hours. You ended up getting pizza delivered. Bucky and Sam grabbed the pizzas from the guy at the front and bolted to your room.

“Did you guys order pizza?”

“Yeah, you want some?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam shouted and waited for Nat to unlock your door. 

Same came inside as Bucky ran to the kitchen to grab some beers and sodas for you guys. When he returned you guys kept playing video games switching off whose turn it was to give shot at the game. You ended up nearly finishing the pizzas and left empty beer bottles and soda cans all over the table. All of you guys laughing hysterical, watching Sam do attempt after attempt of the section in the game. He kept dying in the same spot over and over and over again you all couldn't help but make jokes making you all nearly pee from laughing.

Steve had just finished a session of training alone. He usually works out with Buck but today he was nowhere in sight. Neither was Sam. He knew that Nat was in your room and evidently avoided coming into contact with you, but he thought Bucky and Sam went out to the bar or something. An invite would’ve been nice. Something to distract from thinking about you.

Although he didn’t want to, he figured he should go to Nat and see if maybe she knew where the boys were. He was giving Nat’s room a try before going to yours but when he arrived on the floor that yours and Nat’s rooms were, he heard loud laughter emitting from your room.

He instantly knew everyone resided there.

“What’s going on?” He pushed the door slightly.

You all got very quiet suddenly, especially you. You stood up and excused yourself to the bathroom, not even wanting to look at him right now. 

“We’re just playing some video games. Y/n and Nat ordered pizza and when we brought them the boxes, we ended up just staying. Where were you?” Bucky responded then asked.

“I was downstairs training.”

“Awe man! I didn’t realize how late it was getting sorry I missed it bud. I’ll be there tomorrow, for sure.”

“It’s ok. Hope you're all having fun,” Steve said before he left and closed the door.

“Y/n, he’s gone babe,” Nat came up to the door to tell you.

“What happened?” Sam asked. 

“Nothing,” she retorted.

“Ok well it’s pretty late we should get some sleep,” Bucky announced.

The boys left and when they did you quickly grabbed some clothes and your toothbrush and ran next door alongside Nat to get ready to go to bed.

+++

It had been around 3 in the morning and Steve still couldn’t seem to get even an ounce of sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and how he wanted to go to you and fuck until he was tired out but he didn’t want to use you anymore. He swore he wouldn’t. 

After another hour of painful silence, Steve through logic out the window and headed to your room. Maybe if he just laid beside you knowing you were just there, that could make him feel better.

When Steve knocked on your door, you didn’t answer. He opened it to see if maybe you were asleep; but he really couldn’t tell. So he stepped as quietly as possible towards your bed and moved the blankets. When he was met with cold sheets and full pillows he realized you hadn’t been here all night.

“She’s sleeping.”

Steve jerked his head to find Natasha leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. He’d realized there was no getting out of this situation and slumped on your bed head falling into his hands. He ran his hands through hair wishing desperately they were yours but you had run away from him.

“Why are you doing this to her?” Nat asked softly, she wasn’t exactly as mad anymore now having seen that there is something more that neither of you are admitting to each other; but she was still pretty pissed. 

“I can’t sleep,” was his response.

“So waking her up to use her as a toy was the solution?”

“It’s not like that,” Steve nearly shouted.

“You need to stop using her. Tell her the truth or leave her alone.”

“What truth?” Steve asked.

“Steve, don’t play dumb. There’s something deeper than just mindless fucking and you know it. Unfortunately she doesn’t and if you don’t tell soon it’s gonna break her. She’s too young for this bullshit, Steve.”

“I can’t do that to her. You know how fucked up my life has been and dragging her into that? I can’t do that to her. She doesn’t deserve it.” 

“So fucking her at night only to leave in the morning and pretend like nothing ever happened between you guys is the better option? Really, Steve? I thought you were smarter than that.”

There was a long pause as Steve realize he fuck himself over from the start. 

“Fix this,” Nat said before going back to her room to sleep for the rest of the night.

+++

For the next few days you had slept in Nat’s room. Normally you would find yourself cuddled close to her but never completely squishing her like did this particular morning.

“Oh well good morning sunshine,” she laughed putting her phone to pull you closer. It almost made your stomach flutter because you wish you had someone to wake up to like this everyday; preferably with Steve though.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you in bed.”

“Oh it’s fine. I quite liked the cuddling,” she retorted as you got off of her.

“If only Steve did too,” you said to yourself aloud.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Nat shouted that it was okay for them to enter; it was Tony.

“Hey Nat, so I was able to get a babysitter for Morgan for tonight; I don’t think I told you but, Lang’s kid-” he stopped when he noticed you were in the room too, totally unexpected.

“Oh uh,” Nat looked at you not so discreetly, “We should talk about this later.

“Ok,” Tony bolted out the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let’s get ready for breakfast, I think Tony is gonna order a special breakfast or something to get delivered.”

“Oh that’s nice.” you wondered if it had anything to do with what you hoped it would but you seemed to be proven wrong when no one seemed to say anything.

After one of the bed breakfasts you’ve ever had, Bucky, Sam, and Nat went back to your room to play more video games like the other night. You and Nat stayed on the bed while the boys were on the floor intensely slashing around in time with the game’s combat.

There was a quiet knock at your door in contrast to the volume of the television but your trained ears could hear it. You walked to the door telling the boys to quiet down before you actually opened the door. On the other side was actually someone you didn’t expect.

“Steve, what’s up? You need someone?”

“Actually, maybe I could hang with you guys? I brought food,” he smiled shyly.

“Oh my goodness, of course,” you let him.  

“Hey guys I’ve got lunch,” he announced, walking to the table off to the side of your room; since the boys moved it to roll around on the floor. You however waited by the closed door. You wished Steve would come to you when you were alone and not to hang out with his friends that you kept captive; and not for just sex of course either. 

“Yay!” everyone shouted.

“Y/n you should eat too,” Nat said, bringing you food from the bag.

“I’m not too hungry right now,” you responded.

“You might not have time later to fuel yourself. You’re gonna want to.”

Ok what is going on? You ask yourself. You still took the food she gave you though. That question would soon be answered thankfully.

Hours later and Tony barged in frantically.

“Let’s go you bums! Lang’s kid just came over!”

“Why didn’t you say anything!?” Nat shouted and kicked everyone out. 

“What's going on? You guys have been weird all day.”

“Did you really think we’d forget your birthday, babe?” Nat said to you.

“What?” your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Yeah, we got you a nice breakfast, Steve brought you lunch, and Tony and I are taking everyone out to the club to celebrate your birthday!” Nat said hugging you.

“Oh my goodness, why didn’t anyone say anything? I wasn't mad but literally not one person, not even you, said anything,” tears brimmed your eyes.

“I know I’m sorry but hey now we get to spend all night partying for you and only you. Tony has all your birthday gifts at the club already, we got a VIP booth,” she winked at you. 

She ran to her room extremely quick and returned with a dress bag. She pulled out a short ivory satin slip dress that complimented your soft skin beautifully. It was backless as well and also had a small slit that was very high up. Looking at it made you kinda nervous. No way you were gonna wear that.

Wanda came in right after wearing an all black long sleeved off the shoulder dress that made her look so beautiful. She hugged you and wished a happy birthday before turning to the bathroom to grab you some makeup. While Wanda did your makeup giving you a very natural look to enhance the beauty you already bestowed, Nat changed into a strapless black dress as well that had a deep vee neck.

She took out a box and gave it to you along with the white dress and told you to change. 

“I’m not wearing this. Where’s the rest of it?” the girls laughed loudly.

“It's actually not that revealing, so don't worry about that. Also we’re practically gonna be in the dark.”

“What’s in the box?”

“You’ll see,” Wanda winked. 

“If you can’t figure it out though, we’ll help you,” Nat confirmed.

You went into the bathroom after grabbing some appropriate panties for this table cloth of a dress opting for nude lace panties wanting to feel extra sexy for your big night. After you put the dress, you admired yourself for a bit admiring the way you looked before opening the box. When you did you didn’t quite know what it was at first but after picking it up you realized it was a diamond body chain for your thigh. You figured for the thigh exposed from the slit in the slip dress. 

You came out almost ready to leave and the girls whistled and howled hyping you up. You picked up the pair of strappy heels set on your bed, being decorated as well with diamonds. You put them on and the diamonds wrapped around the ankle shining just like the body chain you had on your thigh.  You put on a pair of earrings and you were officially ready to party for the night.

You walked downstairs with the girls and the boys nearly fell over after looking at how beautiful you three were. Pepper was already dressed and downstairs dressed much more modestly but just as stunning. The boys were dressed formally but not black tie formal, just perfect for a night out. 

Steve more specifically was absolutely captivated by the way you looked. You always held yourself with elegance that made him blush, but this? How was gonna keep any sort self control when you look so fucking perfect. You smiled at Steve and everyone moved to the front where the limo that Tony rented was waiting. 

Steve held your hand and helped you inside almost immediately cutting Bucky off so that he could sit next to you on the way to the city. Once everyone was inside you were on your way to the club.

“You look beautiful,” Steve whispered to you. You damn near shit yourself, you were so in love with him.

“Thank you, Steve.”

When you got to the club you all got settled in the VIP booth, where all your gifts from everyone were. One by one you opened them as drinks came in, ordered by Tony and Pepper. You thanked everyone with a hug and off they were to dance. You cleaned up a bit while Steve too stayed behind. 

“You didn’t open my gift,” he said smirking.

“I didn’t?” you questioned.

“Well you didn’t exactly have access to it,” he pulled a box from his pocket. When you opened it was a gorgeous gold necklace with your birthstone just big enough at the center. You looked back at Steve and thanked him over and over again.

“Do you want me to put it on?” he asked.

“Yes, of course.”

He grabbed the necklace and you turned around grabbing and moving your hair for Steve to clip the necklace. When he had done so, he quickly but gently kissed the back of your neck, his face shortly lingering, seeing the chills and shiver your body had done. 

You felt your body grow cold and were about to say something when Nat had come interrupting your moment.

“Y/n, let’s go dance! Come on!” she dragged you away.

“What was that I saw,” she asked you when you were on the dance floor.

“Honestly I don’t know.”

After a couple hours of dancing you had gone to the bar to get some water and maybe a drink. When you got the you had met up with Bucky who was preoccupied with a girl he met tonight. 

“Hey, doll,” he said when he noticed your presence; completely ignoring the girl after.

“Hey, Buck.”

“How’s your night going?” he got closer so you could hear him over the incredibly loud music.

“I'm doing amazing but I'm a little tired already, thought I’d get some water.”

“That’s good. Stay hydrated, princess.” Bucky has been like a brother to you since you came to the tower. Him and Nat have always been your go-to’s and it’s nice to feel like you have family to care for you. That’s kinda what you are. 

You continued to carry nice conversation as you both drank at the bar. You decided since your feet were beginning to ache to sit on a bar stool but Bucky deciding against it. He stood nearly in between your legs, not in a sexual manner but just to be close to you because the music was so fucking loud and you two could hardly hear each other. 

But that didn’t translate well to Steve who stood at the end of the bar with Bruce and Thor; who ended up bringing Asgardian mead for him, Steve, and Bucky. Truth be told, he didn’t like the way Bucky was standing so close to you but he couldn’t blame him. You looked ravishing and Steve never told his best friend about your nightly encounters and definitely not how much he really cared for you romantically.

You noticed a pair of eyes piercing through you and when you turned you looked into Steve’s eyes. He looked betrayed and confused. Why would he feel like that anyway; you weren’t his. Especially since he’s the one who seems to show no interest in you beyond a nightly affair.

You figured you messed with him only to see if he would say anything, maybe that could push him to finally realize your his; you’ve always been his. Bucky continued to conversate with you at the bar and you opened your legs just a bit to bring him closer. To Bucky you seemed like you couldn’t hear him. But to Steve, you were flirting.

You reached out to Bucky and pulled him closer laughing at something he said, and Steve saw red. He bolted to the bar where you and Bucky were and snatched you away. 

“Hey, man. What the fuck is going on?” Bucky shouted to Steve.

“Stay out of this, asshole,” Steve practically growled back.

“The fuck, you good man? Don’t be grabbing her like that, dickhead.”

“I said stay out!” Steve let go and shoved Bucky away.

“Steve!” you shouted. You had zero clue why he was acting like this.

Nat came over and helped Bucky while Sam stepped into between the two. 

“What the hell is going here?” Nat shouted.

“Nothing,” Steve said, “you’re coming with me.”

Steve started walking to the front of the building, quickly calling a cab when you were outside in the cold. 

“What are you doing? Steve no it’s my birthday! ”

“Exactly, let me treat the pretty birthday girl to something nice,” he came and whispered into your ear making you shudder in arousal.

“And what would that be?” you retorted.

“Oh you’ll see,” he practically threw in the cab that instantly started driving to the compound.

Steve dragged you to his room and tossed on the bed before turning around, locking the door behind him. Your body trembled nervous and excited for what Steve was going to do next.  

“You think you can get away with that knowing you belong to me?”

“I don’t belong to you. You don’t get to say that, you never even stayed until morning.”

“Watch your mouth, princess.” he grabbed your jaw making you look at him. You shut your mouth real quick.

“You think you can act like fucking little slut around Bucky, practically begging him to fuck with your eyes. Well baby girl, your mine. Got it?”

You simply nodded your head, arousal pooling in your panties. Steve never showed you any kind of affection during your nightly affair but seeing him jealous and possessive was a huge turn on.

“Yes, captain,” he said, pulling your hair to make you look at him.

“Yes, captain,” you whimpered.

“Take off your dress, leave the chain and heels.”

You scrambled to the bed after nearly tearing your dress off your body. Steve went to the bathroom for a brisk moment unsure as to why but soon enough emerged rolling the sleeves of his collared shirt up his enormous forearms. 

You laid spread against the bed awaiting your encounter with Steve. He stalked towards you with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face; oh the things he was gonna do to you tonight. 

“Look at you.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, moving your thighs together to squeeze out some sort of friction to your sensitive pussy. 

“What? You’re squirming around around like fish out of water,” he kneeled to the floor, “but your fucking soaked.

In front of his face there was an embarrassingly large wet spot on your panties, the lace doing next to nothing to keep your arousal contained. Steve’s hands lingered up your  ankles and calves, kissing your legs and knees so softly. You whined and whimpered hoping for Steve to just have his way with you already, but he continued to be torturous and take his ever sweet time with you.

“What’s the matter you dumb baby? You want me to make you feel good? You want me to use my mouth on you and make you come as many times as you can,” he mocked.

“Yes! Please, Steve!”

With that he ripped your underwear going straight in with absolutely no warning making you moan loud. Steve’s tongue circled around your hole and his nose brushed your clit, driving you crazy. He brought his hand up to you and inserted a finger into your pussy.  

No matter how many times Steve fucks you’d probably never get used to even his thick fingers he often used on you. Not long after, Steve inserted another finger making you wrap your legs around his head, calves falling over his shoulders. Since you still had your heels on, they dug painful but pleasurable into Steve’s back, making him moan in return.

The moans eliciting from him make your pussy pulse around his fingers signaling you were extremely close to having your first orgasm of the night. Your hands flew to Steve’s hair and tugged on his long locks. His beard scratched you beautifully. He moved quicker and you almost instantly came all over his face. 

“Fucking whore. You gonna come?” Steve said. 

“Yes, captain! I’m gonna come,” you shouted.

When you did, Steve stood up quickly and manhandled you onto your stomach pulling you by your hips so your knees were under them. You turned your head forward toward the giant mirror that Steve had on his wall, said ‘it made the room look bigger’. 

You looked in the mirror and saw as Steve came behind you unzipping his pants then rubbing his hands roughly along your back. You shivered at how you laid completely bare for him, nothing but a body chain and heels, but he stood on his knees behind you fully clothed ready to use to his heart’s desire. 

“You think you could get away with acting like a fucking slut with that stunt you pulled? Did you think you could get away with that, you little bitch?” he smacked your ass.

You only whined as your body flinched. When you didn’t answer him he grabbed your hair and pulled up to your knees; your back completely flushed against his chest. 

“I asked you a fucking question,” he growled in your ear; making direct eye contact with you in the mirror. His sharp blue eyes are nearly black with lust.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, baby,” you told him.

“Oh yeah? Cause it looked like you wanted Bucky to bend you over that fucking bar and take you for everyone to see.” 

“Maybe I did it to make you jealous.”

“Jealous?” Steve wrapped his hand around the throat making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“I’m not jealous because you and I both know you belong to me and tonight I’m gonna make sure everybody in this fucking compound knows it, especially Bucky.”

You moaned at his words so loud it was almost pornographic. Hearing Steve become extremely possessive made you feel dare you say, loved. 

Steve shoved you face back into the mattress and grabbed his dick to line up with your dripping pussy. He gave no warning as he thrusted into you making you nearly scream in pure pleasure. You gripped the sheets hard making your knuckles turn white. Steve threw his head back from pure bliss in your sex. You felt amazing, perfect.

You looked at him in the mirror and came at the sight of him. That clearly didn’t stop Steve as he continued to thrust into you even harder than before chasing his own release. He grabbed at his collar shirt and ripped it open feeling overwhelmed with heat. 

His hand reached for your hair once again to pull flush against him. One hand circled around to rub at your clit, stimulating another orgasm approaching while the other wrapped around your throat more to keep you in place than bring you satisfaction. Tears streaming down your face in pleasure, mascara slightly messy and running.

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Look at us,” he looked in the mirror.

“You see how precious you look right now? Like a fucking angel.”

You could only whimper and moan at the sight in front of you. Steve completely ruining you in the best way possible. 

“No one is ever gonna be able to fuck you as good as I do, got it? Your mine. Say it, tell me your mine, princess.”

“I’m yours! Oh god Steve baby, I’m all yours!”

With that you came hard on Steve’s dick, him too; hot spurts of his cum shooting into you. You fell forward, arms nearly giving out but Steve picked you up and leaned back with you back on his chest. His hands moved softly across your body, everything quiet around you two. The smell of sex lingering in the air, silence wrapping around you like a blanket. 

You stayed that way for a minute. You tried your best to catch your breath already beginning to feel really sore between your thighs. Steve moved you and laid gently on his bed before hurrying to the bathroom. You laid there wondering if Steve just had an episode, a desire to take control of something again, or if he actually wanted you to be his, to love you like you would dream at night after he left. 

He came back wearing nothing but a new set of boxers seemingly to have cleaned himself up. He had a washcloth with him however and began to wipe your makeup you had on. Once you were clean he carefully removed your body chain and heels, rubbing your feet to relieve any soreness from them too. 

He picked you and set you on his bathroom counter, everything still quiet around. That silence was broken however when he turned on the faucet to run yourselves a bath. When you both sat comfortably, lying on his chest in between his legs, he wet your hair and gently washed it rinsing after. You dried yourselves and when you went to put your dress back on ready to leave for the night, Steve stopped you.

“Don’t leave. Please,” he begged.

“I thought-”

“I want you to stay,” he didn’t only mean the night, he meant with him… forever. Or at least as long as you’ll have him, so hopefully forever.

“Steve,” you whispered holding his face.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow? I promise I’ll explain everything, just I know I was really rough right now and I want you to rest,” he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Ok, you promise?”

“Promise.”

He went to grab a shirt for you to wear for the night but you simply led him back to the bed and crawled underneath the sheets. He asked about clothes and you just ignored him enticing a chuckle from him. 

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you baby girl.”

But you were already asleep.

+++

The next morning you woke up with the sun shining the most beautiful golden rays upon your skin. You two talked about what exactly happened last night and where you two would go from there. Thankful, feelings were mutual and you felt happy.

Heading down for breakfast you held Steve’s hand and everyone looked at you guys strangely. 

“Did you guys hook up last night or what’d I miss?”

“It’s really complicated,” you said curling closer to his side.

“You ok?” Nat whispered to you before you and Steve returned to his room with plates of breakfast. 

“Oh yeah,” you smiled.

“I feel great.”

[jimlingss]

ooo exciting !!! jungkook + romance/fluff + "kiss me" + e2l

Anonymous said: Can I request a fluffy jungkook fic with a touch of angst. Any AU you want and maybe a friends to lovers? Feel free to decline :)

Anonymous said: a fluffy “oh! you’re jealous” prompt with Jungkook pls? any au is fine☺️

Anonymous said: jungkook, prompt list 1 - #27: “Are you blushing?” :> i hope you have a lovely holiday season!!

Anonymous said: Friends to lovers!! Or enemies to lovers pls!! I love that shit

This is the most ambitious crossover of requests since Avengers lol jk.

↳ Suspended, Seduced, Surprised!

1.9k || 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst || Jeon Jungkook || E2L, Huddle For Warmth!AU (sort of)

It started off with Jungkook coming out of nowhere and nearly scaring the living daylights out of you.

He laughed — that noisy sound that makes his nose scrunch — and you rolled your eyes, turning back around in the line. When the ski lift chair arrived, he asked if he could come too. You told him to kindly fuck off, but in the next second, he slid next to you, smiling widely.

It was too late for him to get off. Not when your feet was already lifted off the ground.

You don’t know why he’s so adamant about bothering you. If Taehyung didn’t tell you at the last minute that Jungkook was coming along, you would’ve just not come on this trip and ruin your winter break like this.

“Why didn’t you go with Sana?”

The ski lift is ascending upwards at an incline, moving past the coniferous trees and those skiing down the mountain beneath you. Luckily, it wasn’t too sunny or snowy out. But the air was still sharp with frost that’s long made your cheeks numb. Every exhale past your parted lips creates a cloud of condensation.

Jungkook’s thick brow lifts and he pushes his ski goggles up onto his head, on top of his blue beanie like yours. His doe eyes look at you. “Why would I go with her?”

You shoot him an incredulous expression. You don’t know why he’s playing dumb. “I thought you were trying to get cozy with her.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth slyly curls and he leans in. “Oh. You’re jealous.”

Instantly, your face contorts into a disgusted expression and a boyish laugh bubbles out of him. 

“I would,” he says, “but she already has a boyfriend.”

“She does?”

Jungkook hums. “Some guy two years older than us, majoring in finance.”

Oh. You didn’t know that.

Suddenly it sinks in that you’re having an actual conversation with Jungkook. One where he’s being a cocky asshole only a tiny amount and you can actually bear through it. It almost feels like you’re….friends.

But right as the thought comes to mind, the ski lift chair halts and momentarily swings. You jolt, looking at the chair ahead of you that’s frozen as well before turning around. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Everyone is seemingly as confused as you are. “It looks like we’re stuck.”

You groan. “Oh shit.”

Five minutes later, Taehyung comes wandering underneath you. He stands by a tree on the sidelines and cups his gloved hands around his mouth. “Oh my god!” he screams at the top of his lungs. “I finally found you guys!”

“Taehyung!” You shout back at him. “What’s going on?!”

“Well, I was looking around for ages and Jimin wanted to give up since he thought you went down to the lodge and I told him no way—”

“Dude!” Jungkook shrieks and you wince at the sheer volume of his voice. “We get it!”

You remember why he grinds on your nerves so badly. Everything Jeon Jungkook does just irritates you. Including the fact that he was currently trying to burst your eardrums.

“Right! Sorry! They said it would be fixed in half an hour! Hang in there!” Taehyung fist pumps the air with a rectangular grin as if it’s enough to encourage the two of you and you sigh loudly. 

“Whelp.” Jungkook settles back into his seat. “Looks like we won’t die.”

“Great.”

“Are you cold?”

You turn to the boy, surprised that he’s actually considerate enough to—

“We could always get naked, you know,” he adds, shattering the image of him that had curated in your mind for point two seconds and it flees as quickly as it came. “To converse heat.”

Your mouth opens, speechless. You shake your head. “Right when I thought you were being nice to me for once.”

Jungkook grins unabashedly. “I am being nice. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t flirt like this with anyone else and if you ask me, I think it’s working too.” The bastard leans in and you lean backwards to keep more distance. He bats his pretty lashes. “Are you blushing?”

You deadpan, “It’s literally negative thirty degrees out.”

He laughs again.

The both of you get comfortable, laying your ski poles across your laps, and looking out at the snowy mountain landscape that’s all too peaceful. Or at least until you feel a poke through your puffed jacket.

You look down to find Jungkook handing you a heat pack from his pocket. “It’s not much but it might help.”

“....Thanks.”

Strangely, the guy doesn’t brag about how kind he is or how much you should appreciate the gesture. He simply starts to hum to kill time. It’s soothing. Kind of nice to listen to even.

You enjoy it until he abruptly stops and asks— “Why do you hate me so much?”

You look at him. “Seriously?”

Jungkook smiles and it’s somehow reminiscent of a rabbit. “What? Nothing like confronting people when they’re trapped in a spot with nowhere to run, right? Plus, this is a good opportunity to be reflective, don’t you think?”

You scoff, not sure where to begin. But there’s no reason why you should spare him from the truth of why you grew to have such a strong distaste for him. If he wants to know, you’ll happily let him know. 

“How about for never calling me back after you slept with me? Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Jungkook’s head whirls over. The bomb’s been dropped.

You feel his stare on your profile. It goes deathly quiet. 

It’s the biggest resentment you held against him, what made his cocky attitude even uglier to you. Maybe you shouldn’t be so angry. It wasn’t like he vowed anything would happen afterwards. Maybe he thought it was supposed to be a no-strings attachment thing. But it wasn’t like that for you.

Jungkook acted interested when you first met. He sweet-talked you. He led you to believe there would be something more. And when there wasn’t— well, the rest is history.

You wonder if Jungkook’s shriveling up and cringing for asking in the first place or if he’s remotely ashamed. You hope he is. It serves him right. The audacity he has to talk to you casually after ghosting you so brutally like that is insulting. You wonder how he’ll respond, if he’ll regret bringing the subject up, if he’ll try to conjure some kind of half ass apology—

“Because you never gave me your number.”

This time, your neck snaps towards him. Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering.

“You’re the one who ditched me,” he says. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“I wrote you a note. On a napkin on the dresser.”

The man, in the blue snowboard jacket and black ski pants, frowns. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. Do you think I would lie about this?”

“Then I never saw it.”

It’s easy for Jungkook to lie. One of his many talents is his pretty lips that has easy words rolling off his tongue like butter. But by his expression, the slight pout of his mouth, the furrow of his brows, you can tell he’s being genuine. There isn’t any facade, any flirtation.

“I would’ve remembered if I saw it cause that morning Taehyung woke me up and he never wakes up before me. But he was whining because of his allergies and needed me to run to the pharmacy—”

The pair of you go silent.

It dawns on you both.

Kim Taehyung.

Knowing Taehyung and his godforsaken allergies, he must’ve taken the napkin and sneezed right into it. He probably threw it in the trash or took it with him and crumpled it into his hand. God fucking dammit. 

“It wasn’t my fault,” Jungkook murmurs, his eyes rounded at the realization.

You shift uncomfortably. The possibilities of what-if storm your mind. What if Jungkook saw it, what if he texted you or called you afterwards like he promised. What if you didn’t meet again on accident through Taehyung but continued the communication yourselves. Could he be sitting here next to you as someone more in your life?

But you brush the thoughts away as it overwhelms you.

“That’s funny,” you pipe up, mustering some stiff laughter, breaking the silence. “At least we solved one mystery.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s cold.” You wrap your arms around you. “We should stop talking and conserve heat.”

Jungkook nods and the pair of you quiet down. But without conversation, time drags on slower.

You peek a look at him and instead of being deep in thought like you thought he’d be, Jeon Jungkook is looking around, blinking with his doe eyes, the black strands from his bangs nearly pricking into them. He’s completely nonchalant and you internally sigh to yourself.

You’re not sure what you were expecting. 

Jungkook is Jungkook.

That note on the dresser probably wouldn’t have changed anything.

“Y/N.” He speaks up a minute later.

“What?”

“You know how we could keep warm?”

“What.”

“Kiss me.”

You could not roll your eyes harder.

An enormous grin spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks, irises twinkling from the snow’s refraction. The little shit has too much fun annoying you and he jumps at the chance to continue to egg you on, “Why? Too scared to? Think you might fall in love with me now that we cleared the air and you don’t hate me anymore?”

He bats his lashes exaggeratedly.

You scoff. “Yeah right. As if.”

“Then why not?”

Your head spins around to face him, momentarily taken aback at how he’s a few inches away but you conceal your expression just as quick. You don’t know why he’s so insistent on this terrible joke. “Why? Do you want me to kiss you?”

Jeon Jungkook’s grin taunts you.

You loll your head to the side, eyes narrowing into slits. “You think I won’t do it.”

“I’m just trying to improve the mood.” He sits back and shrugs, having too much fun watching your explosive reactions. “It doesn’t matter what I say to you. You’re a dog with all bark but no bite, Y/N. I know you too well.”

Your jaw clenches at the challenge. At his mocking tone. At the bastard’s audacity.

And just to prove him wrong, you grab Jungkook’s face in your hands and turn him towards you. In one breath, you aggressively slam your mouth against his. It almost hurts. Your teeth nearly clash. But you barely feel anything with your numb lips except for how chapped his lips are.

It’s a brief kiss, but enough to prove yourself.

You pull away with a cocked brow and small smirk, relishing in his wholly stunned expression.

At that same moment, the ski lift jolts and starts to move again. Someone behind you cheers. 

“You don’t know me at all, Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur softly, seductively and with the smirk still plastered on your features. The unloading zone approaches, so you move the safety bar, stand up from the ski lift chair and glide away.

Jungkook’s delayed, but follows after you helplessly a second later. You turn around while you still have the chance and he stares at you, blinking owlishly. 

“If you want to make me blush or get jealous, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than you have been, Jeon. You should probably work on your kissing skills too. Staying like a dead fish isn’t appealing to me.”

You glide away on your skis before he can get another word in. In the meanwhile, a grin slowly spreads into Jungkook’s cheeks and he decides to accept your challenge.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

I was going to actually post this before asks closed (didn’t get the chance), but Teddy Bear Anon, you are one of my favorite people and a magnificent creature. You get my vibe. 

About Bad canonically being Sapnap’s dad I feel like that has so much extra angst potential when we consider the rest of the found family. Like. Sapnap, Tommy, and Fundy all have dads who started with the best of intentions but for one reason or another ended up slowly becoming a danger to them. I imagine Tommy and Fundy one day showing up with a cake and telling Sapnap “We regretfully welcome you to the shit dad club” and Sapnap is torn between being upset still and laughing over the absurdity of the situation.

Bonus points if Tommy made the cake using a recipe book that Niki gave him, the last gift Niki ever gave to Tommy. Tommy was originally a really bad cook/baker but after the egg really started to take over he went full survivalist. Leaning to cook was necessary but learning to bake was something he did as a way to raise everyone’s spirits. He’s never gotten the flavor quite to match with Niki’s perfectly but everyone agrees he’s gotten pretty decent in terms of skills. He and Fundy in particular will sometimes just spend an entire day in silence baking and then quietly eat their creations while reflecting on the friends they’ve made and lost over the course of L'manberg’s lifetime. When the group got back to the past and Niki made cookies for Tommy and Fundy the pair very nearly started crying.

Tommy is in an interesting position as a character since he did commit a lot of minor crimes and acted as a general nuisance but he was also still a child. (A very traumatized one considering I canonize SMP Earth with its unlimited lives but even more wars. Including against God. Tommy fought God just let me have this.) He acknowledges the moments when he went over the line and has tried to apologize. In particular at some point before the egg fully takes over he pulls aside Jack and tells him that he’s sorry for the way he acted when he was still in exile, taking one of Jack’s lives and all. Jack and Niki in particular are an interesting subject to address and a painful one for immune!Tommy to think about when he sees younger Niki because the three never fully tossed out the hatchet but it was obvious in the eyes of someone like Sam that both of them were growing more and more hesitant to hurt Tommy. It was made worse by the fact neither were even marginally immune, and it didn’t take long for the egg to get to them.

He never stopped being chaotic. Tommy at his core is just that kind of person. He did, however, grow up enough to act in a more mature manner. Started to recognize what’s too much. In particular he became a lot less violent and willing to lash out after Sam Nook in essence reparented him. He’s still an absolute wild card of a person, which in the eyes of Sam and Sapnap is a good thing. For this au I think we should actually address Tommy having severe ptsd and during the building of his hotel/the early days of the egg before it becomes a noticeable threat it shows. He’s a lot more subdued. Shows of aggression all carry a kind of desperation and his typical jokes feel flat. Lashing out at people slowly becomes more of a defense mechanism to see if someone’s going to leave or betray him, to test the limits of how nice they’re willing to be. After all, nice people have only ever been nice to Tommy when they wanted something from him. His eyes, especially after L'manberg is blow sky high, are well and truly gray. The first time Tommy genuinely laughs after filling Sapnap’s room with chickens is considered celebration worthy to them. His pranks take on a more hermitcraft-esque feel to them which honestly makes them more funny.

By the time they get to the past Tommy has recovered, but he still carries the kind of maturity that like Teddy Bear mentioned is reminiscent of age swap Tommy. When he gets especially stressed though, Immune!Tommy will slip into moments where he acts as tired and done with the world as age swap Tommy. With that said, most of the time he just acts like a more mature Tommy. Nothing could ever completely erase his unique vibe which Ranboo has gone on record as describing “Willing to fight God deaf, blind, and backwards just to prove a point." 

Immune Fundy and Tommy get on really well once Fundy manages to catch up with the rest of the group. It gets to the point where everyone from the past is kinda shocked since smp Fundy and Tommy do not get along. At all. Literally the first night Fundy’s back someone goes to wake them up and they find Fundy asleep on top of Tommy which is a wild experience since this Tommy is a goliath who often refuses to take off his full Netherite max enchant armor. He really becomes a "looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll” kinda mans.

Also, yeah, this is Dream’s retirement arc. He is literally just sitting in the corner watching Tommy dote on his younger self and Tubbo before completely pile driving two of the most powerful people on the server straight into the dirt. At some point Tommy sits down with past Punz. He tells this Punz that their Punz died protecting him and Tubbo and that Tommy never got to properly thank their Punz so he’s going to thank this Punz. Tommy then gives Punz an entire stack of Netherite. If we’re gonna go ahead and agree on Phoenix Tommy then Tommy is fire proof, meaning he probably spent a large amount of time in the nether to avoid the egg crew and get rare supplies. Meaning he also probably did a lot of mining just to distract himself and it resulted in him being loaded. Tommy used to have a fear of tnt and explosives but he seems like the type of mad lad to say “exposure therapy” and make a massive cavern in the underbelly of the nether.

I think it would also be really interesting to dedicate like, a couple of chapters to other people’s perspectives. I kind of want to set the time they arrive in the past partway through the Pogtopia arc since I like mildly unhinged but not completely gone Wilbur. Plus then it also makes more sense for Techno to be there. Just prefer the aesthetic really. I want to have Wilbur see this version of Tommy and come to a sudden “oh” moment. I want to have a moment where Tubbo looks between his Tommy and this new Tommy, seeing himself nowhere to be found, and has enough what the fuck moments to become aggressively protective of his own Tommy. Especially if immune!Tommy ever admits to the past Tubbo why he is the way he is, what he faced under the thumb of the people he trusted. Which, out of everyone on the server, Tubbo would be the first one from the past to actively learn. 

I am fully on board with Tommy knowing how to sew. That should just automatically be canon in literally ever AU. Tommy for all intents and purposes is still Phil’s child for me. Survival runs in the family the same way that chaos does, so he’s got a ton of basic survival skills that he just doesn’t show off because it’s still Tommy. He would have been completely fine in exile if it wasn’t for Dream. Whenever someone ruins their clothes in the Immune group they automatically go to Tommy and at first the past versions are very confused (except for past Tommy and Tubbo obviously) and then Tommy’s just “Sapnap this is beyond ruined it can’t be saved, let me make you something new” and within a couple days he makes Sapnap a completely new outfit. Like maybe Sapnap fell into a lava pool because Blaze Sapnap Supremacy and his clothes are beyond saving and everyone is beyond baffled when Tommy just acts like this is a weekly occurrence. He’s memorized Sapnap’s measurements and style tastes and already had a new outfit in the works for him that Sapnap immediately adores upon it being presented to him. It takes about a week for past Eret to learn that Tommy stress sews new clothing and he cannot think of a better model. Eret has never had such a full closet. Eret has everything from three piece suits to ball gowns now. Eret lives in terror of the days where Tommy disappears god knows where with Fundy and the two reappear with a new wardrobe for the entire god damn server. 

Speaking of disappearing I really like the idea of part phoenix and part tanuki Tommy for a couple reasons. Being a Tanuki he’d have access to enough magic to hide his hybrid traits, which if they’ve been present for long enough would be a necessity to him. Additionally think about Fundy and Tommy building a den under Church Prime that slowly turns into a maze. Think about it. It starts off simple and then they both start digging more and it gets deeper and deeper and more complicate and the two just refer to it as their den and the only ones who are fully aware of the connotations of that word are Sam, Sapnap, and Ranboo who remember the absolute hell that was trying to navigate the original. Just Fundy and Tommy bonding over the fact they are literally the only creatures on this server that have this catacomb memorized and at the end of the catacomb is their saferoom which connects to rail way that the two spent a month straight on. It goes at least 25k blocks from spawn and it’s a final emergency resort in case they can’t stop the egg and the Immunes needs to regroup and essentially try again (if they keep bringing their younger selves with them then hopefully they’ll finally get an army large enough to stop this, but everyone really hopes it doesn’t come to that.)

I’m working on the first chapter of my fic right now actually if I’m gonna be honest and phoenix Tommy is absolutely without question canon to it but I’ve still been going back and forth on if I want him to be part tanuki as well or just blessed/favored by one like Teddy Bear mentioned. I’m also tucking away the whole thing about the magma blood for later use. Phoenix Tommy just makes sense. They used to call him Zombie Kid for a reason back on SMP Earth, he just literally does not die ever unless he decides he does.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

[whitestaghere]

War, peace and love - Edmund Pevensie x reader

Hey there~ it's been a while and decided I should write something new. So here it is! Thought I should try something new so, angst with a little bit of fluff at the end. Hope you all enjoy!! ❤️✌🏻

"You are such.. AN IDIOT," Edmund pushed my shoulder making me stumble backwards, widening my eyes in shock at what he just did. "DID YOU WANT TO DIE?!"

Pushing him back I scowled at him, "I DON'T SEE WHY YOU'RE SO BOTHERED ABOUT THIS! AS FAR AS I REMEMBER IT, YOU WEREN'T BOTHERED ABOUT ME YESTERDAY?!" taking in a breath I continued, "YOU KNOW WHAT?! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME!!"

He pushed my limits this time. He was the cause of this heated argument, why everything had to go wrong for me.

>>> Flashback <<<

Everything was happening so fast.

Susan nearly falling to death, but thank God for Trumpkin being there. Lucy gone in search of Aslan. Edmund, Peter, Caspian and I, on the battle field alongside the narnians. It was a fight to death and victory against the Telmarines.

I reminded myself to thank Capsian, for always pushing me to work better with the sword. Hours and hours of training brought me some luck here. Apart from the fact that a Telmarine swordsman nearly took my head off. Only for Edmund to swing in just in time. He did that of course, not forgetting to glare at me and mumbling curse words under his breath.

Simply. He hated me, I hated him.

Edmund was completely against me coming on the battlefield. Saying I wouldn't be of any use and that I would run away pathetically. That making Caspian and Peter change their minds, being scared that they would put my life at risk. Then there's me, this was what I was training so hard for. I was not going to give in just like that! Not forgetting that, I wanted to prove Edmund otherwise.. and just to piss the boy off too, I managed to change the high king and prince's minds.

And where did this rivalry begin?

To be honest. I don't even know.

He just decided to pick on me, hate me. And I had enough of being weak. And in no time, I began to give him the cold shoulder too. Susan and Lucy saying it was just "a phase". I didn't care. I had enough of his attitude, looking down at me constantly and having to say something bad about everything I do.

Back to the battle.

Everything was happening so fast. Taking down one Telmarine just for another to, throws themselves at you. My legs were aching, heart beating rapidly, mind racing. Running across the field I blocked a sword swinging at Peter.

Peter signalling me to duck he blocked a swordsman, this time behind me.

Turning back to face me, he grinned, "thank you for that." The smile of his fading away just as more Telmarines headed towards us.

Nodding my head at him we continued fighting side by side. Suddenly I bumped into someone. The force pushing me off my feet. Stumbling backwards, I met the hard ground.

I whinced in pain and let out a yelp right after, feeling a much larger force on my body. Opening my eyes my heart began to speed at an inhuman pace.

Edmund.

Out of all the people it had to be him.

Eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, he let out a groan. I widened my eyes in instant panic the second his eyes shot open, connecting his gaze with mine. If my eyes weren't playing tricks on me, I saw a hint of red tint his cheeks. But before I had time to process the situation I could hear my name being called out.

"ED! N/N! WATCH OUT!" Capsian shouted, running towards us.

Looking behind Edmund's figure a Telmarine stood holding his sword mid air, prepared to get Edmund. Immediately, I pushed Edmund off me. Picking up my sword I blocked him just in time.

A piercing pain in my side, and I get kicked back down. Letting out a shriek in pain I held the place I got stabbed. Backing up, and facing the Telmarine behind me, I tried to retrieve my discarded sword.

It was out of my reach and everything was just getting way too blurry.

"Y/N!" I could make out Edmund's figure fighting off the swordsman in front of me.

I could hear voices calling out my name, but couldn't seem to focus. But no, I couldn't give up just like this. I had to get up. Using all the energy left in my body, I grabbed my sword and continued fighting. The rest of it all going in blur, maybe it was just the pain, or for the fact that Caspian and Peter kept trying to cover for me.

But when the Telmarines began to flee and Lucy had come along with Aslan just in time to block them, exhaustion and pain decided to take over.

And the last thing I heard was someone calling my name and my vision went black.

>>> end of flashback <<<

Lucy had rushed in to the scene, acting fast with her healing cordial. The others relieved that I was fine, but all except for one. And that was Edmund.

That leaves us here. In this heated argument.

"YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME!"

He let out an annoyed sigh, "YOU TRIED TO SACRIFICE YOUR LIFE FOR ME! AND WHAT WAS I DOING? I HAD TO SIT THEIR LIKE A COWARD!!"

Letting out a fake laugh, I rolled my eyes at him. I can't believe him, he's still so full of himself.

"That's all you care about huh? Yourself. I'm beginning to see why I hate you so much!"

At this, his eyes were filled with anger. The expression on his face, nothing but bewildered. Making his way upto me he grabbed my shoulder.

"What. did. you. say?" he said through gritted teeth boring his eyes into the side of my head.

Glaring back at him I pushed his hand off my shoulder. "You care only about yourself," I repeated in the same tone as his. Letting out a laugh of frustration he ruffled his hair.

"Really Y/N? Is that how you think of me?"

Not missing the sudden softness in his voice I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Boy does he have moodswings.

"Hmm? You think I'm selfish? That-that I care only about.. myself?" he held his index finger at his chest.

The change in his nature confused me to the fullest. Never had he ever been like this in front of me. Why is he like this all of a sudden? Maybe he's just trying to trick me and make me accept that he was right. But I couldn't grasp why is the softness in his voice breaking me?

"Y/N?" his voice was becoming a little stern. I tried to avoid his gaze. Something in me couldn't bare to look into his eyes. Placing a hand on my cheek gently, he turned me to face him.

My face began to heat up instantly, due to the close proximity and for the instant skinship.

There came the guilt. The look on his face breaking me. He looked so sad. He was hurt. And I was the reason behind it. A part of me wished I could take back the words I said. The other part of me, questioning why I'm being affected by this when he's treated me like this the entire time.

"Edmund I-"

"You think I don't care??! Well for your information, I care about my siblings, the Narnians, Caspian! Why do you think I even fought in this war, in the first place?! It's because I care! I could just leave, say I want to go home! But no! I care! I care about my parents! I care.. I care about you..." his voice cracked.

He wasn't making this any easier for me.

I was taken back by the switch in his moods, the sudden "I care about you" and I just didn't know what to say.

Not wasting a second Edmund turned around leaving the room. All I could do was watch him leave. I wanted to stop him, but I was afraid I would say something stupid and make things even worse. Sitting down I ran a hand through my hair.

"Well, that was new.."

Switching my gaze from the floor I saw Peter walking in slowly. I sighed looking away.

"You should talk to him.."

"I-I don't know Pete.."

"What do you mean you don't know?" he sat down next to me. I could feel his eyes lingering on my face.

"I don't know how to face him. I-I don't get why he's like this... and funny part is.. I-I think I hurt him," tears began to blur my vision the second I said those words. Peter wrapped an arm around my shoulder, rubbing my arm up and down gently.

"He does care you know.."

I rubbed my eyes furiously turning around to face him, "then why was he always picking on me? It didn't seem like he cared then?"

Peter let out a low breath, "Ed doesn't really tell people how he feels.. not even with us, he refuses to show his emotions. Most of the time he's cold as ice on the outside.. aaand," he dragged. "Is pretty stubborn.. I guess you could say that's how he protects himself.."

"Protects himself?" I tiled my head in confusion.

"From the world. From getting hurt. He pushes people away thinking they would hurt him. And he's always thought less about himself.."

"I would never.." I mumbled under my breath. But Peter heard it loud and clear, nodding his head "I know.."

"But he does care about you.. so much," Peter looked at me, his gaze soft. Nodding my head I let out a sigh.

"Thank you Pete."

He gave me a soft reassuring smile and gestured me to go after Edmund.

I knew what I had to do now. Running out of the room I set a pace through the Palace. Stopping here and there in order to find out if anyone had seen Edmund.

Maybe things were complicating between Edmund and I. I had to cover the hurt I felt, the feelings I had all this time but now... now I needed to clear everything, make things right between us.

Finding myself in the hall I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, eyes darting everywhere. Where had this boy gone off to?

Turning around I saw a familiar figure standing at the balcony. It didn't take me more than a second to recognise that it was him.

Lifting up my gown I ran upto him. His back was facing me, so I cleared my throat to grab his attention. Spinning around almost immediately, my eyes connected with his warm brown ones.

And without a word he turned around once again.

"Ed.."

No response.

"Ed," I walked closer to him only for him to step away from me.

"Ed please.. look at me."

He was clearly ignoring me.

"Well I hope you'll listen to what I'm about to say.." I took in a long breath, "look, I'm sorr-"

He turned around instantly cutting me off, "oh so now you're sorry?"

Trying my best not to roll my eyes at his antics I looked down at my hands. "I-I didn't know.."

"Didn't know what? Oh wait I get it! Now you think I'm pathetic huh?"

I looked back at him with disbelief. Was he really doing this? Again? He wants to stir up another argument. Unbelievable. But, I didn't have it in me to get mad at him. I wanted to sort this out, so I shook my head in an attempt to not let his words get to me.

"I didn't say that."

"Hmm.. then what are you trying to say Y/N? Tell me."

Trying my best to avoid his gaze I gulped.

"I don't need your apologies."

"Look I didn't mean what I said back there. I was just mad and stressed with the whole situation.."

He scoffed looking away.

"I just... I don't understand why you hate me so much. What did I do? Where-where did things go wrong?"

This time he looked at me raising his eyebrows. But he said nothing. He just stood there, gaze fixed on the floor with an unreadable expression.

"Ed.." his gaze still fixed on the ground.

I took a step closer to him, but he didn't budge. Just stood there. The silence was just unbearable.

Not sure what to do or say, I stood there watching him. The air surrounding us, a mixture of tension and awkwardness.

Observing his face, I realised how different he was. How tall he had gotten. How the freckles sprayed at the bridge of his nose. How soft his hair looked, my fingers tingling with an urge to brush my hands through it. How his lips were a peachy pink, almost like he had tinted it with gloss.

I hadn't noticed how much he had changed over the years. My face began to heat up for the second time that day, and I averted my gaze.

Glancing at him once again it was like a flame lit inside me. And the next second I did something that I never dreamt of doing.

My body decided to act on it's own. Mindlessly I stepped closer to him, standing on my toes I placed my hand on his face.

"Y/N?" confusion laced in his voice but I was too caught up in the moment to really respond to him.

My gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and there you have it. I brushed my lips on his momentarily.

His body tensed in my grip, eyes wide open and pupils expanding to the fullest.

Pulling away from him I let out a shaky breath. But when I looked at Edmund and the look on his face, I widened my eyes in realisation. What have I done?! What was I thinking? How could I be such a fool?! All I could think about is how the boy in front of me could be hating me even more now. I just wanted to make things right between us, but I let my feelings take the upper hand. And now.. I expected the worse.

I turned away from him placing my hand on my lips unconsciously. Even though it was just for a second, I missed the feeling of his lips already.

Next thing I know, Edmund grabbed my arm and yanked me towards him. I was afraid of what he was going to say, what he was going to do, to meet his gaze. But instead without a word, he pulled me into a hug. Arms wrapped around my waist he pulled me closer sighing.

Something about this made me feel so comfortable in his arms. I wanted to scream. My heart thumping against my chest, I slowly hugged him back.

"I'm sorry.." he sighed.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot. For being a coward."

"You're not a coward," I mumbled.

"But I am.. I'm sorry for being so hard on you all these years. But can I just ask you something? To clarify. So that what I'm going to say next won't leave me having to run away in embarrassment?"

I hummed in response.

"D-do you like me?"

My body stiffened. Wait. Is this heading to where I think it's heading?

"I-I.."

"Because I do."

My eyes widened at this. Pulling away from his embrace I looked at him in shock. Is he being serious? I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was so unbelievable, to the point that I had to pinch myself just to make sure I was not dreaming.

"You.. you what?"

"I know it's hard to believe. But I do."

"But.. you.. you"

Rubbing the nape of his neck he smiled nervously. Clearing his throat he closed his eyes.

"I didn't like it.. I didn't like you getting involved in all of this.. I didn't want you coming to narnia either, because I didn't want to risk your life. You've always tried to save me. Even when we were kids. And I could never do the same, that leading me to thinking you might consider me a coward. The others were fine with you coming along, even if I said no and I just wanted to stop you. Stop you from coming with us to battle and hurting yourself. And I let that happen."

I looked at him.

He opened his eyes gaze locking with mine he released a shaky breath, "I pushed you away, in order for you to actually give in and stay on the safe side. But that.. that made me nearly lose you.." he took a breath, "and I was scared.. so scared, that you wouldn't feel the same. Specially when you began to avoid me. It was fair of course, after what I put you through. I was afraid I'd end up getting hurt, so I wanted to brush off all feelings and instead treated you badly again."

He took my hands in his, "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I'm sorry. It was fair that you treated me that way.. but I just want you to know, that.. that.." he struggled. "ASLAN! I LIKE YOU!" he shouted. "I like you.. so so much."

I couldn't help but giggle and look in awe. I was at a loss of words. Not getting a reply from me, he sighed pulling away only for me to hold him back.

"Ed.. of course I forgive you. And I'm sorry for everything I said too. I understand how you feel.."

He smiled at me softly but that was soon replaced by a mixture of emotions, hard to explain. That's when it struck me. All this care. All this blushing and constant glances. The instant comfort I felt being in his arms. It wasn't just me being hurt over him hating on me all these years. I wanted things to be okay between us, I wanted to get closer to him. This side of him, I had never seen it before, but now it explains. What I was craving to see from him. I liked him too.

"I-I.. Ed?"

He hummed in response, eyes exploring my face.

"I like you too.." At once a smile wiped across his face. He came closer to me with our hands still intertwined together.

"Sorry I didn't get that. Could you please repeat it?" he brought his ear closer and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

Pushing him away and hiding my face in my hands I squealed.

Laughing he took my hands back in his and pulled me towards him. "You like me too?"

I nodded my head shyly. He chuckled moving in closer and brushing his lips against mine. Pulling away just for a second he whispered, "you would not believe how happy I am.." he leaned back in, connecting our lips together.

Wrapping my arms around his torso he cupped my face. Tilting his head Edmund smiled into the kiss. Pulling away once again he leaned his forehead against mine not before pecking my nose. I giggled.

"FINALLY!" Apparently, we had an audience. An audience of one though. "Shouldn't I be getting a little credit here?" Peter smirked. Edmund rolled his eyes. Looking at eachother we broke into a fit of giggles.

Third person's pov

And there they stood; in eachother's embrace, eyes filled with adoration and a love blossoming within them. The war replaced now with that of peace and love.

Well this turned out rather long than expected 😂 I really found this fun to write and I hope you all enjoy reading it!

Love you all, stay safe and happy holidays! ❤️

[auroracalisto]

kiss of life

Summary: You were in a relationship with the Mikaelson brothers.  Then, you were dead.  However, someone wanted revenge on the brothers (specifically Klaus) and brought you back to life, only to have you kill yourself in front of them after they realized it was indeed you.  If only that’s exactly what happened.  

Notes: I’ve been on a Mikaelson kick and I am not even sorry.  also you do kinda die but you also eventually come back.  so angst but happy ending?  also um poly relationship with you, elijah, klaus, kol.  not anything incest, they’re just in a relationship with you.  thought i would clarify.  also the witch mentioned is just an oc to fit this story, nothing to do with the show.  WOW OKAY SO IMMA JUST SAY THIS TOOK ON A LIFE OF IT’S OWN.  TRIGGER WARNING FOR ATTEMPTED SELF HARM TOWARDS THE END.  UM.  YEAH.

You were a breath of fresh air, for each of the Mikaelson’s.  Your beautiful face, your wonderful personality—each of your incredible attributes made their dead hearts beat again.  

But never again would you be able to look towards the family with your beautiful eyes.  Never again would you be able to hug each of them and tell them how much you loved them. 

Kol stood closest to your coffin, not listening to the pastor as he spoke.  

Elijah stood on the other side, keeping his eyes on the polished wood.  It made his blood run cold to know that you were about to be six feet under, with the bugs and the worms and everything negative in the world.

Klaus stood towards the back, his jaw clenched.  He would blame himself until the end of his days.  He should have seen the signs.  He should have known that someone was out to hurt his family and take the person they loved the most away from them.  

As the pastor finished his speech, he looked towards the family.  “Would you like to say anything before they lower the casket?”

Klaus said nothing. 

Rebekah, who stood beside of Elijah, grabbed onto his hand, trying to fight back her tears.  

Kol was angry with everyone and everything.  He just glared at the pastor, wanting to get this over with.  He would wreak havoc as soon as this was over.  He had to.  You were gone.  There was nothing holding him to the “good” spot he had been in.  

The pastor softly sighed and bowed his head towards the family in respect before he motioned towards the funeral workers.  They carefully began to lower the casket into the ground.  Many of the funeral goers began to leave, but the Mikaelson’s stood there, staring towards your casket.  

Rebekah’s heart ached for her best friend.  And she knew her brothers would never be the same without you.  

A year had passed.

A witch stood in front of your unguarded grave.  Her bright green eyes scanned over the name you were buried under.  Mikaelson.  A shaky breath escaped her as she bent down beside of the grave.  She placed a hand over your name and she picked up a shovel and went to work.  

It took the poor woman nearly two hours to completely dig out your grave.  She looked around and made sure that no one was there before she opened the casket.  Your body was mostly in tact.  But that was only thanks to the spells once upon a time placed on you under the protection of the Mikaelsons.

“This will be easy,” she breathed out, smirking to herself.  She placed a hand on your shoulder and with as much magic as she could muster, she teleported the two of you with a spell to a cave where hundreds of candles and a grimoire were located.  

She carefully placed you in the middle of the floor, a smirk etched into her skin.  It hadn’t left since she realized this was going to be a piece of cake, bringing you back.  Of course, this was all for her dirty work.  She would bring you back to life to get revenge for her late wife.  It would work.  The Mikaelson’s filled Gina.  It was only fair that she make their fate even worse.  

The witch placed a couple candles around your body and she grabbed her grimoire, flipping to the spell that she needed to preform.  Having gathered everything before hand, all she had to do was cast the spell.  The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.  She stared at your body as you spoke, watching as a soft glow overtook your lifeless body.  

It was only moments after casting the spell that you took in a deep, labored breath.  

You quickly sat up, placing a hand over the place on your abdomen that had been wounded before you died.  It was “healed,” you were assuming.  You quickly looked around with a panicked expression, your eyes falling on the witch.  

“What—who the hell are you?  Where am I?” you quickly asked, trying to stand up.  The aches and soreness suddenly ran through your body.  You should have just stayed sitting.  It felt like all of you had been on fire.  Your muscles constricted and you could have sworn you pulled one in your neck just by looking at the witch.  

“My name is Lana,” she said, sitting down her grimoire.  “And you’re in Mystic Falls, don’t worry.  You never left.”

“What—what happened?  Where—“

“—are the Mikaelsons?  You’ll get to see them soon enough,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.  Lana smiled a bit at you.  “You’re going to do a favor for me.”

You tilted your head.  

She leaned towards you and smirked.  “You’re going to go to them and prove that it’s you.  You’ve been dead for a year,” she said, keeping her green eyes on yours.  “As soon as they believe you, you’re going to take this,” she said, handing you a concealable knife, “and you’re going to stab yourself.”

Your eyes widened as you watched the woman.  You wanted to say no.  With everything in you, you wanted to say no.  But you took the knife and gave a small nod.  “Alright.  How—”

“You’re going to kill yourself right in front of them,” she grinned.  “Oh, God, this will be delicious,” she laughed, cupping your cheeks in her hands.  “I’ll be there watching the whole time, so don’t you worry about me finding out,” she said, getting to your feet.  “You can find your way out of here.  Might as well make it seem no one ever dealt with your dead body,” she shuddered a little bit.  “And you most definitely need a bath.” 

You looked towards the knife, your breathing uneasy.

“Get a move on,” Lana scoffed.  “I haven’t all day.”

You turned your gaze back onto the woman and you gave a small nod.  “Okay,” you said.  You sat the knife down and began to pull yourself to your feet.  An ache ran through your body and you dropped down to your knees, groaning in pain. 

“Oh.  Yeah, that’ll take some getting used to,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.  “You’ll be fine.  I’ll see you there,” she smirked softly at you before leaving the cave.  

It took you a couple minutes to get from your position on the floor over to the entrance of the cave.  You had stashed the knife away in the pants that they had buried you in.  

That’s right, you thought.  She said I was dead.  

You shuddered at the thought and wondered what the hell happened.  

But it didn’t matter.

All you knew is that you needed to find the manor.  And your feet took you directly there, although your memory seemed to be a little faulty at the moment.  

Your fist rasped at the door.  

It was quiet—far too quiet.  You almost wondered if they had left.  You knew that the family had talked about moving to New Orleans.  Honestly, it wouldn’t have surprised you if they had left.  After all, you were the only thing tying them to Mystic Falls at this point.  

“Who the hell are you?” came a voice from behind you.  

Kol.  

You quickly turned around, your eyes growing wide at the sight of the man.  Klaus and Elijah followed up behind him, noticing you on their front porch.  

“Who the hell are you?” Kol repeated, a growl emitting from him.  “What the fuck is this?  Get the fuck out of here—“

“Kol,” you spoke, watching as the man froze at the sound of your voice.  

No, it couldn’t be you.  You were dead.  It was impossible.  

A familiar blonde came running up the sidewalk, tears in her eyes.  “’Lijah, something’s happened—[Your name]’s grave, someone’s taken h—” 

Rebekah stared you down, stopping in her tracks.  She let out a sob, unable to contain herself.  She moved past her brothers, only to be grabbed by Klaus.  

“We don’t know who she is, sister,” Klaus darkly said, keeping his eyes on you.  

“Klaus,” you spoke.  Your throat was sore from not using it for so long.  “Klaus, please,” you took a step forward.  You felt your knees buckle underneath you and you nearly fell onto the steps—had it not been for Rebekah pulling away from Klaus and vampire running towards you and catching you, you would have definitely hurt yourself.  

Rebekah kept her eyes on yours and she suddenly pulled you in for a tight hug.  “What—what did you tell me you wanted to do before you died?” she asked, burying her face in the crook of your neck.  

You were confused, but you answered her regardless.  You told her the one thing you wanted to do before you died.  Rebekah couldn’t help the sob that escaped her.  

“[Your name], you’re supposed to be dead,” she cried.  

“No,” Kol roughly said.  “No, they are dead.  Whoever the fuck this is—“

Rebekah looked back at her brother, tears rolling down her cheeks.  “Kol, it’s [Your name].”

It only took a millisecond for Kol to leave Elijah’s side and came up to you.  He cupped your cheeks in his hands, searching your eyes for an answer.  If he got what he was looking for, you would never know.  He pulled you away from his sister, hugging you as tight as he could without hurting you.  You returned the hug, burying your face in his chest.  

“I’ve missed you so,” he whispered, gripping onto your shirt.  “I didn’t get to tell you how much I loved you—“

“—Kol, you told me just that morning—“

“—no,” he said, slightly pulling back.  He pressed a feverish kiss to your lips, which you returned.  It had been too long.  Far too long.  

It was Elijah’s turn to question everything.  “There has to be some kind of explanation,” he said.  

“We’ll figure it out,” Rebekah said.  “For now, they’re here.  [Your name]’s here.” 

You carefully pulled yourself away from Kol’s embrace, getting to your feet.  You grabbed onto the staircase railing and you walked down the stairs as well as you could.  With wobbly legs, you walked over towards Elijah, fighting back what tears were threatening to spill.  

Halfway there, you were falling again.  But Elijah was there to catch you.  He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug, which you gladly returned.  

“I’ve missed you more than life,” he breathed out, kissing your forehead.  He pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes catching yours.  A faint smile played at his lips.  “You were gone, [Your name]—“

“—yes, she was.  And she still should be,” Klaus rudely spoke.  He wasn’t about to be played.  

Klaus walked over and grabbed your wrist, roughly pulling you away from his brother.  You stumbled into his chest and a look of realization dawned on his face.  

“[Your name]?”

“Klaus,” you said, carefully pulling your wrist away from his grip.  You instead wrapped your arms around his torso, allowing him to quickly hug onto you.  

“Dear gods,” he clenched his jaw, pressing his chin up against your temple.  “I... I still do not understand.  How are you here?”

“Someone brought me back,” you admitted, slightly pulling away from the man.  

“Who?” Kol quickly asked, standing up.  “Who the hell would have brought you back?”

You began to think, your fuzzy memory proving to fail you.  “Hannah?” you tilted your head as you thought.  “No, no, I think it was Laura?  Alonna?”

“Lana,” Rebekah said, a deep frown etched into her beautiful features.  “Why in the hell would Lana bring you back?  Doesn’t she hate us?”

“Correction, she hates Klaus for killing her girlfriend,” Kol said, rolling his eyes.  

“Correction,” the all-too-familiar voice came from behind you all.  “Klaus killed my wife right in front of all of you and you just let him.  And now,” Lana wickedly grinned, knowing what was to happen.  “You’re going to watch yours die all over again.”  

As Klaus went to ask what she meant, Kol let out a shout.  In just a moments time, Kol’s arm was in the way of the knife that you had meant to thrust into your own gut.  You had stabbed him instead.  Your eyes widened as you looked up at the man.  

“Kol—“

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kol scolded.  He hadn’t even winced.  

“Don’t ever do that again,” Klaus said, grabbing your chin.  He stared into your eyes and used compulsion to get you to comply.  

As soon as you had let go of the knife, Kol had moved away and pulled it out of the arm.  He threw it on the ground, scowling.  

“That will not be the last of her,” Elijah said, coming over to your side.  He pulled you into a protective hug.  “We need to leave.  We have to protect [Your name].”

You leaned into his arms, frowning softly.  “What about New Orleans?”

Klaus glanced towards his siblings and took in a deep breath.  “For now,” he moved over and pressed a kiss to your cheek.  “We’ll get to packing.  Come inside.  You will not be alone.  Someone will be with you at all times.  You will never be alone.  Not ever again.”

You gave him a soft smile.  You were just happy to have your lovers back, despite the unwarranted circumstance that got you here.  

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

LOVE #23 and NSFW #11

Prompts 💕 23. “Your past is your past. I love you for the present and future.”

💦 11. “I guess I’ll take care of it all by myself.”

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Soft and kinda light/kinda filthy Smut, Fluff, Angst, Hint towards PTSD, Language

A/N: I haven’t written enough Frankie yet and this will be my first smut for him 👀

Future, Steady

***

He’s been acting weird lately. Your Frankie. 

For the past two weeks something’s been bothering him; he’s eating less, picking at his food with a distant look in his eyes, getting up in the middle of the night after hours of tossing and turning, only to return hours later—you know, because the rusting of the covers and the dip of the bed wakes you—and when your failed attempts at joke after joke just to see that goofy grin that brightens his whole face, you’re met with a half-attempt of a smile, barely reaching his eyes.

But every time you try to talk to him about it he shuts it down with a shrug of, “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry about it, he says. As much as you know it’s a cover, you don’t want to push him, so you give him his space, hoping that one of these nights will be enough to bring him out of the black water he’s seemingly found himself in. 

Tonight is no different. 

It’s the same routine—words that die quickly in short conversations, the scrapes of his fork against the plate as he pushes his food around, infamous cap hung low over his forehead... it’s the same after, when you clean up, and by then it’s difficult to ignore the stinging in your heart. 

“I’m uh,” you sniff, keeping your face turned away; you don’t want to cry right now. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay,” it comes out a whisper. “G’night.”

“Good night,” you mumble and walk quietly to your bedroom without a look back. 

The bed feels too cold. After changing and getting ready, you slide under the covers and sink deep into the pillows; Frankie’s cologne hits your nose, and you swallow thickly. 

It’s not easy falling asleep. Even with the TV on low volume, a rerun of your favorite show, is not enough to dull your loud thoughts. You don’t know how long you lay like this—curled up in a ball, small arrays of tear stains down your cheeks, and blanket pulled all the way up to your chin. 

Your eyes stay shut and just as you start to feel your mind succumb to exhaustion, heavy steps sound toward the door; you don’t open your eyes. The door creaks open and he steps in, the shuffling of clothes clear and lasting; every second of it feels like hours and all you want is for him to crawl into bed and hold you like there’s nothing wrong in the first place. 

Fuck this sucks. 

You hear him get ready for bed and turn the tv off. He slides in on his side and the heat radiating off him is nearly impossible to ignore; your body twitches to turn around, but you stay still. 

A heavy arm wraps around your middle, startling you. Frankie pulls your back to his chest and loosens his grip on you, giving you space in case...

“You remember that last trip I took?” His gruff voice echoes in the room, his breath tickling your neck. 

Your heart skips a beat. You remember every moment of it. “Yeah.”

He scoots closer to you, holding you tightly again. “Something... the other day I saw something and it reminded me of, fuck all the shit I did and I—” He gulps, clearly struggling to tell the rest of what’s been plaguing him, but you don’t say a word nor turn around still; this is his moment now, and you know how important it is for him to be this open to you. 

“—I don’t know, it just put me in a bad place.” He gets up on his elbow and leans over you, resting his hand on your covered hip. 

You finally turn to lay on your back. God he looks tired. It was hard to tell before hidden so well under the combination of your dim lighting and his hat, but without any barriers you can truly see the dark circles under his eyes, making his perfect face look shrunk and drained.

Your heart breaks all over again.

You brush your fingers against his stubble and Frankie automatically keens to your touch, sighing in relief when you rub your thumb delicately across his cheekbone. 

“Frankie, my love,” you lick your chapped lips. “I can’t imagine what any of that feels like, but I need you to hear this.” You wait until he opens his eyes and nods before you continue. “You are so fucking strong, baby. You’ve come so far from the man you used to be and I can’t be anymore proud of you.”

His dark chocolate eyes glisten with tears and it pulls at your heart so easily that it’s almost scary. You can’t take this any longer and you reach up to brush your lips against his, teasing him of a kiss. 

“Your past is your past.” You tell him in a steady tone. “I love you for the present and future.”

A whimper tears from him before he closes the final space between you; the kiss is hurried yet careful, memorizing the contours of your mouth, his hands working on your body, pawing at your pajama’s. 

You break the kiss with a giggle, grabbing his wrists to halt his movements. His eyebrows furrow in confusion but when you pull your shirt over your head realization and lust replaces it; he growls softly at your breasts and your pussy flutters when he quickly rips his own shirt over his head and pushes you back down, spreading your legs with his weight. 

Frankie swallows your moan when he ruts his half-hard bulge against your covered pussy, groaning himself at the heat between your legs. He takes his hungry mouth down to your neck, nibbling at the tender flesh; his hand slithers up and gropes your breast, then tweaks your perk nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hmm,” you arch your back, curling your fingers in his hair. “Frankie.”

Frankie doesn’t respond, instead trails his tongue and spit down to the space between your chest. He looks at you and flicks his tongue on your nipple. Your skin ripples in pleasure—it quickly turns into shudders when he bites down and you tug harshly on his hair, eliciting a deep moan that vibrates through your chest. 

After he’s satisfied he switches to the neglected side and gives it the same treatment until you’re dripping for him. 

“Frankie,” you whimper, thrusting your hips for more friction. 

He kisses down your stomach and to the waistband of your shorts, slipping his fingers underneath, adding fire to the scorched flesh. You lift your hips off the bed enough for him to pull them down, the first chill of the air hitting your glistening pussy. 

“Such a gorgeous pussy,” Frankie snarls. He inhales deeply, licking his lips and getting ready to plunge his face into your cunt but you stop him. 

He looks at you like you have two heads, and maybe you do when you think about it—he’s amazing with that tongue of his, and he’s a giver more than a taker, always making sure you cum at least three times in his mouth before fucking you, this time however you just can’t wait. 

“Next time,” you explain. “Right now I need you.”

“But I wanna taste you, babygirl,” he whines. 

“Well,” you sigh dramatically. “I guess I’ll take care of it all by myself.”

“Watch yourself,” he warns. 

Frankie stands up, his shadow towering over you—the way the veins in his hands pulse as pulls his pants and boxers down at the same time should be a crime. His cock springs free and slaps his stomach; thick and red, tip leaking with precum, your mouth waters and your pussy flutters, begging. Your arms open up for him when he crawls on the bed, opening your legs as wide as they can go. 

He holds himself by his forearms, looking down at you like you just hung up the stars for him; not like you don’t see him in the same light, like you don’t love him with every molecule in your body, ready to forgive and love him until the end of your days, and then more. 

The vulnerability opens your chest to your bleeding heart, aching from the content you feel, the peace and happiness Frankie breathes into you. You have to pull him down for a kiss that speaks the words you cannot say—you will, but not now. No now, you reach in between you and grab his length, lining him up at your entrance and wrapping your legs around his waist, encouraging him with a subtle push. 

“I love you,” he declares unwaveringly and slides into you; he does so slowly, taking his time in stretching your velvet walls until he rests completely inside your tight heat. 

“I-I love you,” you gasp into his mouth as he gives you time to adjust. 

The stretch burns lightly this time. He kisses you once, twice, three, four times until you tilt your hips up; move. 

Frankie keeps his body as close to yours as possible and pulls his hips back, plunging back into you. He does this again and again at the slow but steady pace, grinding into you most of the thrusts—it doesn’t matter, he’s still fucking you so deep, hitting your soft, spongy spot. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he starts to babble in grunts, pressing kisses all over your face and lips. “Christ I don’t deserve you. So good to me, always—”

He shudders and gasps, picking up the pace now and growling. “And this pussy is always so fucking wet for me. Dripping for my big cock, right princess?”

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, whimpering helplessly as he fucks you. “Yes,” you moan, throwing your head back. “Oh fuck yes Frankie. Fuck just keep fucking me, please fuck.”

The bed creaks as Frankie drives deeper in your quivering pussy, fueling the tight coil boiling in your lower stomach. It doesn’t take that much thrusts after for it to burn into molten lava, making every muscle twitch and spasm.

Oh it’s coming. Right around the corner and if he’d—

A calloused thumb touches your clit and applies just the right amount of pressure.

“Oh fuck I’m cumming!” You cry out, feeling your pussy clench around his throbbing cock.

“Cum,” he pants, hips stuttering in a chorus of desperate thrusts. “Let go, drench my cock baby—y-yeah like that, s-shit.”

Your moans become strangled in your throat as your cunt clenches harder and harder, trapping him in a constructive vice as you explode around him; your thighs shake and toes curl, locking his lower half to yours.

“Oh fuckshit I’m gonna cum, right in that tight pussy.”

With that growl comes a pitched moan and a few final slams of his cock before it rests as far as it can go; his cum fills your cunt in hot spurts.

You let out the last moan pushed out of your lungs and relax your tense muscles. Frankie gasps above you, looking down. Your eyes follow and catch a glimpse of his wet cock, slathered in your combined fluids, push back in.

“Shit,” he chuckles breathlessly, collapsing next to you; you wince when he pulls out of you, a hollowness taking over your swollen walls.

“Shit.”

The two of you catch your breaths, holding each other and sharing kisses in between.

“Hey,” Frankie eventually breaks, cupping your chin to lift it up. With his swollen lips, disheveled hair and a light sheen of sweat shining on his chest, he looks like a piece of magnificent art—more important than that, he’s using that smile, that goofy, dimpled smile.

“What?” He chuckles, slanting his head curiously.

You kiss him instead.

[damonsvftie]

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

MASTERLIST☁️

Summary: When Draco has completely pushed himself away from you, things take a dark turn especially when your best friend, Harry Potter casts a sectumsempra spell on him.

Warning: angst and fluff☁️

Timeline: set during the half blood prince

I sat in my bed reading my favourite book while the moon shone brightly and rain poured down heavily. It had been raining all day however i didn’t mind. I loved everything about the rain and considered it as relaxing while I would open up a book and get lost into my own imagination.

It was 10.30pm, when I had read nearly half of the book that was in my hands but I couldn’t seem to finish it. My mind was pondering somewhere else, preventing me from completely finishing the book. What seemed to bother me was Draco.

He had promised that he would write to me during the summer break whenever he could but he never wrote to me once. I sent him a few letters then and there but I still didn’t earn a reply back. I was mainly worried about him. I wouldn’t stop sending him letters until I made sure he was completely fine but then I thought to myself, ‘what if he doesn’t want to write to me? What if he thinks I’m being clingy?’ So I eventually stopped from doing so.

There wasn’t much time left anyways. One more week and we would be going back to Hogwarts for our 6th year and how I yearned to see Draco badly than ever.

—

One week had gone by and there I was making my way to platform 9 and 3/4. A bunch of 1st years were bidding their goodbyes to their parents while the others boarded the train.

When I got inside my compartment, i was greeted by the golden trio. “Oh Merlin y/n, you haven’t been writing to us all winter,” groaned Hermione while she gave me a warm hug while Ron popped my suitcase onto the upper tier. I turned to face Harry, embracing him while he cradled me ever so slightly.

“You said you would write to all of us, what happened to that,” questioned Ron making his way towards me for a warm, welcoming hug. I lowered my gaze in disappointment and shame, looking at the floor.

“It’s Malfoy isn’t it?” Spat Harry furiously while he clenched his fists tight. My hand travelled to his bicep lightly gripping on it.

“Yes..but no,” I sighed, deeply exhaling while both Hermione and Ron cocked their heads in confusion.”He hasn’t been writing to me all summer...and I’m afraid that something’s wrong with him,” I blurted out quickly while I tried to not meet Harry’s gaze as my eyes filled with tears blurring my vision.

“I just knew he would do something like that, I warned you-,” Harry started venting before I cut him off.

“Harry please.. that’s not important right now. What’s important is Draco,” I muttered in defense of my boyfriend.

—

The whole train ride was awkward and the tension could have most definitely been cut with a knife. No one dared to say a word until we reached Hogwarts. Harry had glanced at me a couple of times and somewhere deep down I knew he only wanted what was best for me, and I couldn’t have appreciated it anymore but anyone who would say a word against Draco would have to fight me first.

—

In honour of all the students, a feast was held in the great hall. We all took our positions as we sat huddled together with our other fellow house members. I sat besides Harry while Ron and Hermione took their places opposite us. Purposely, I took my seat where I sat just so I could get to see Draco Malfoy.

While Dumbledore started his welcome back speech, I glanced at the platinum haired boy from across the hall as a look of depression smeared across his face. He looked different. His skin had turned paler than it already was and the spark that was usually in his eyes had faded away. I was becoming really concerned about Draco and seeing him look so devastated made my heart shatter into millions of tiny pieces.

When the feast had started, I had completely lost my appetite. Seeing my boyfriend look absolutely weak and mundane made me non- famished. My heart ached for him. I just wanted to be there for him assuring him that whatever he was going through I would be there for him no matter what. But what if I wasn’t? What if whatever that was causing his depression made me want to stay away from him? But I wouldn’t let that happen. No matter what.

—

A week had already flew by in a instant blur. I tried everything I could to get Draco to start opening up to me but nothing worked. He was constantly ignoring me as if I didn’t exist and as the days went by his depression seemed to get worser and since he kept neglecting me I started to feel heavily inferior.

—

It was way past curfew when I sat near my desk writing a letter addressed to Draco. My hands started trembling as I used my quill to write. Tears were spilling down my cheeks onto the piece of paper, staining it and causing the splodges of tears to become soggy and transparent.

To my beloved Draco,

I know that you don’t want anything to do with me right now but I just need you to know that I love and care about you and will continue to do so until the day I die. Whatever it is your going through I’ll always be with you no matter the circumstances but please don’t distance yourself away from me like this.

Yours, y/l/n

Sealing the envelope, I handed my ptilopsis owl, named Elvis, the letter that was in my hands a second ago. He took the object between its beak and flew out of the open glass stained windows, soaring high into the blanket of darkness, on its way to deliver the message to Malfoy.

—

The next day, I hoped that I had gotten a response from Draco however I was wrong. I never got a reply back. I wanted to help him overcome whatever it was but if he wasn’t going to cooperate with me then I couldn’t do anything to comfort him during this dark time.

—

Weeks started to pass by and I was becoming closer to Harry. It was no secret that me and Draco weren’t together. Or that’s what others thought as they never saw the two of us together again. And let’s say that’s what I also thought.

Harry and me became more than best friends. It was more like a situationship since we weren’t dating but we were closer than ever. It wasn’t until one evening Hermione word-vomited Harry’s secret to me.

—

“If only you knew about Harry,” she mumbled under her breathe when I started teasing her about Ronald.

“What did you say?” I questioned curiously while I pushed my silky hair behind me.

“It’s nothing, besides we should get going,” she replied defensively as she played with the hem of robe.

“No... what did you say about Harry? “ I asked eagerly while I stopped walking, completely facing the brunette girl in front of me. She awkwardly shifted her feet while she smoothed the fabric of her robe trying to avoid any eye contact. I gave her a slight nudge so she could snap out of it.

“He’s in love with you,”. That was it. Those were her words.

The phrase that came out of her mouth made me shudder. He couldn’t love me because I didn’t want him too.

Typically, many Gryffindors thought that I was simply using Harry, trying to make up for the loss of no longer being with Draco but that wasn’t the case. Harry was always there for me, a shoulder to cry on, someone to make me laugh when I was feeling down as ever but he could never replace Draco. No matter how hard I tried to move on from my former lover, nothing seemed to work. Thinking to myself that maybe Harry could fill in the missing gaps, the extra pieces to a lost puzzle, a way for me to escape my completely distorted imagination but I was wrong. No matter how much Harry loved me I assured myself that he would soon get over it, because he needed to. He had to.

—

Sitting in the great hall, I tried to sit as far as I could from Harry but he would scoot up closer towards me. Frequently asking me if I was okay or if I needed anything making sure I was completely fine, but how could I be ‘okay’ if I was stuck between my true love and someone I considered as my best friend. No no, I wasn’t stuck. I was certain about what I wanted. I wanted Draco. But things between the two of us came crumbling down.

Then there was Potter, someone who stuck by me when Draco made me feel inferior but how selfish was it of me too view everything from my perspective. Had I once put myself into Malfoy’s shoes and tried figuring out what demons he was battling with, that had caused him to be in such a state. But the issue was that I did. I did try my hardest to find out what was happening with him. What was going on inside his brain.But nothing helped.

I got up from my seat as the tension between me and Harry rised. I needed to honestly give myself a break from whatever was happening. Before I could leave, someone gripped my wrist gently. Turning myself around, I noticed Harry’s fingers wrapped around my wrist holding me back from leaving. It wasn’t until I noticed my eyes were beginning to tear up. I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t look him in the eye and disappoint him when he immensely cared for me. I wanted to give him the same passion back but my heart belonged to Draco and only him.

Suddenly, he hastily removed his hand from my wrist causing me to turn around, my back now facing him. There stood Draco. He shifted on his feet before he went striding out of the hall.

Harry started chasing after him and I intended to do so until Hermione pulled me back down onto the seat next to her.

“Y/n-“ was all she murmured before I wriggled out of her grasp running as quick as I could, heading out of the massive, substantial doors.

Luckily, I managed to hear the echoes of someone running down the hall way into the boys bathroom. The more swiftly I ran, the louder the clattering of the footsteps became audible.

I barged into the bathroom while I let out a blood curdling scream. Running to Draco who laid lifelessly groaning in pain in a puddle of murky blood infused water, i kneeled beside him resting his head onto my lap as I moved his platinum blonde hair out of his gashed face.

He was heavily injured as he had deep cuts carved all over his body. He whimpered in pain, while tears spilled out from the corner of his half shut eyes.

A piercing sensation depleted through my body, while my tears came streaming down my face, tasting the saltiness of my tear drops that lingered onto my quivering lips.

“Draco-“ I whispered while I swallowed the thick lump at the back of my throat while my face scrunched up in sorrow.

Standing from across the bathroom was Harry. His wand gripped tightly in his hand as I looked over my shoulder not fully turning. From the corner of my eye, I could still see the expression of guilt smeared across his face before he left in silence.

“SOMEBODY HELP!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my shrieking voice echoing. My trembling fingers slowly glided across Draco’s cheek, wiping all of his tears away as he tried his best to stay awake, fluttering his wet eyelashes every now and then. My face hovered over his as he stared at me through his blurry vision trying to fight back his tears.

“Go get ... snape,” he said trying to muster all the courage he could to try and get up.“I can’t leave you here like that!” I sobbed through gritted teeth while my face flustered from all the heat. “Y/n... I’m sorry- I really am,” he apologised while the end of his lips curved into a frown and he desperately tried to hold back his tears.

Feeling a pang of pain in my chest from the sincerity of his words, I started sulking harder than before while he bought his hand up to my face wiping my tears. “Please don’t cry,” he mumbled while he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. Seeing the pain that he was going through, i wiped my face with the sleeves of my robe, smudging my mascara even more. I was a complete train wreck at this point as I squeezed his hand.

“Y/n... do you know- how much I love you?” The end of his sentence finishing of like a diminuendo. I cradled him slightly, letting out a small giggle while I plastered a small smile across my face.

It was the first time Draco had ever confessed his love for me and I couldn’t have been more elated. My smile then turned into a fine line as I pursed my lips and knitted my brows. “You don’t have to say... it back,” he murmured as his dark blue eyes softened.

“I love you too... and I really mean it. Draco your my everything,” I said confidently, exhaling deeply as I got those three words of my chest. Our eyes met and I found myself dipping low as my lips met his. I kissed him passionately as if it was the last time I’d ever kiss him again. I kissed him like there was no tomorrow.It felt like a whole moment of bliss until he started whincing in pain. I pulled back as I noticed his hands holding onto his side. Removing his head from my lap I scrambled to my feet heading for the door. “I’ll be back...just stay put!” I yelled back to him as I went to go and find Snape.

—

“Someone casted a sectumsempra spell on Mr. Malfoy, Miss . Y/l/n do you know who has done this to him?” He asked in his lifeless tone but more furious than ever.“It was Potter... he chased me here and casted the spell on me. He’s trying to kill me!,” interrupted Draco once Severus had healed him completely. “I’ll be dealing with him,” bellowed Snape as he stormed out of the bathroom, the back of his robe flaring.

“Are you okay Draco?” I questioned as I looked up to him. “Better than before,” he responded before taking his hand into mine.“Draco we need to talk,” the tone of my voice more mature than ever. He simply nodded while we walked to the slytherin common room.

Since no one was there, we sat in front of the warm, blazing fire holding one another as a blanket draped the two of us. One of his hands made its way into my hair, gently stroking it as my head leaned against his chest. “Why were you ignoring me all this time?” I interrogated as I pulled away from him tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

The same depressing look painted across his face. His eyes had turned a dark grey as he glanced at me before he started playing with the silver ring that was on his finger. I placed my hand on his arm giving him a reassuring look.

He started to roll up one of his sleeves as if something was plastered across the surface of his skin.

His wrist was branded with the signature dark mark and a tear drop glided down his pale face. My hand covered my mouth as I examined the familiar piece of dark art that was embedded into his arm.

“Your- your a death eater,” I gasped gently. He avoided meeting my gaze as I gawped in awe. “This ... this was the reason why I kept neglecting you. I didn’t want to drag you into any of this mess .. I-,” cutting him off I lifted his chin glaring into his emotion filled eyes. “Draco.. you know that I’ll always be there for you no matter what right?” I questioned as my thumb drew tiny circles on his cheek.

He hummed before I pulled him in for a kiss wrapping my arms around his neck. His lips were slightly chapped but I didn’t mind. A feeling of euphoria ran through my body like adrenaline while his breathing became more frantic and fast.

Pulling away panting, I locked his hand into mine as I sat in front of him. “I’ll always be here for you no matter what,” I panted while staring into his cold eyes as he slowly nodded.

A teardrop slipped down his cheek as I brushed it with my finger

“We can figure this out,” I reassured him.

“A mark doesn’t define who you are,”

[crystalirises]

In Dreams I See You, In Reality You Haunt Me

Today is a good day

For angst

Aka

I want angst and I haven’t been fed in daaaaays.

So... have this.

TW: Sleep Deprivation, Near Death Experiences, Implied Death Experience, and Suicidal Themes (at least in other people's POV)

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886223/chapters/82150489

When he’d asked his grandson to meet him in the ruins of New L’Manburg, he was unprepared for the person he would meet. He stood on top of the glass, eyes cast low to the crater of a country that once was. Red vines had crept along the crevices, consuming the land that they had tried so desperately to get rid of. He’d heard of the red egg, a being that was spreading throughout the land. Though Phil couldn’t find it in himself to care, so long as it left those he loved alone, then he’d let it thrive and consume the Essempy. He was so busy contemplating that he barely even noticed the hurried footsteps of his grandson until Fundy practically ran into him.

Phil flinched away, messy ginger hair and dark circles beneath the eyes reminded him of the last time he’d seen his son. He held Fundy at arms length, the tired fox hybrid blinking profusely like he wasn’t sure there was a person right in front of him. His hair was a tangle of uncombed hair, grayed at the edges with… soot and gunpowder. Fundy eyes were dull, devoid of any life, the dark circles beneath them only seemed to pop out against too pale skin. His clothes were a mess, his usual white shirt covered in dust and black with ash. He was shivering despite the warm sun that reflected off the glass, his black jacket didn’t seem to be able to keep him warm. Phil shrugged off his green cloak, it wasn’t made to keep anyone warm, but if it helped Fundy. He tied it around his grandson’s shoulders, but Fundy didn’t seem to acknowledge him at all. Phil sucked in a breath, smelling cinder and destruction. His grandson looked just like Wilbur now…

“When’s… the last time you slept and took a bath, mate?” Phil chuckled nervously, reluctant to let go of Fundy in case he decided to faint. Fundy jolted at his voice, blinking away his exhaustion, a weary yet confused smile appearing on the fox hybrid’s face. “You look like shit.”

“Huh? Uh no, no sleep. Bath… I… Why am I here? Oh, you wanted to talk to me…” With every word, Phil found himself slowly frowning. Fundy giggled, shaking his head as though to remember why he was there. “I was… I was blowing up my house. I, uh, a demon lives there, ya know? It’s in my dreams, in my house. Wilbur came by one time too, the demon was gone then.”

“Wilbur visited you?” His heart ached, his son really was alive…

“Uh huh, he was… he was standing there… all Wilbur-like.” Fundy let out a yawn, eyes fluttering close for a moment before he flinched, reaching up a hand to slap himself awake. Phil’s eyes widened. Was Fundy… intentionally refusing to sleep? He kept a gentle grip on Fundy’s arm, reaching down to untie the lead that kept Friend from wandering off too far. He didn’t doubt Fundy’s claim that he’d blown up his house, but that meant Fundy didn’t have a place to stay, and he wasn’t about to let his grandson wander off on his own. “Why am I here, Phil? What d—”

“Nothing you have to worry about, mate.” He would want to ask Fundy where Wilbur had gone off to, but he wouldn’t want to upset his grandson. He knew how… Fundy felt about Wilbur. He needed Fundy calm and relaxed, enough to push him into falling asleep. With the lead in one hand and his grandson’s arm in the other, he slowly led his grandson and Friend in the direction of the nether portal. “You’ll need a place to stay… I have a spare bed that you can sleep in—”

“NO!” He nearly fell to the ground in Fundy’s haste to get away from him, the fox hybrid pulling against Phil’s hold. Phil pitied his poor grandson… he wasn’t holding Fundy that strongly but he couldn’t seem to get out of Phil’s hold. “I don’t want to sleep! The demon is waiting to kill me!”

“Fundy, mate, there is no demon. There are no demons, they’re just nightmares, mate. You’re fine! They can’t get you in the dreams.” Fundy had started to cry now, shaking his head so fast that Phil was surprised he wasn’t getting sick. Friend let out a soft baa beside them, nudging Fundy’s leg as it to calm him. “I cannot, as your guardian, let you live while you’re in this state.”

“You don’t understand, I can’t go back in there. I-I can’t go back to that desert wasteland. I can’t, Phil! I can’t!” It was sad to watch, and Phil knew he’d have no choice but to take Fundy back. His grandson could get in a lot of trouble if Phil were to leave him alone. “Grandpa, please!”

“Fundy, you need to sleep. You’re wasting away like this.”

“I don’t need sleep! Wilbur even told me… he told me that if I wanted to keep the demon away that I… that I didn’t need sleep! I’m fine. ‘m fine!” After a few more seconds of struggling, Fundy slumped over, eyelids fluttering close. Phil adjusted his hold, praying for his back before pulling Fundy up into his arms. It wouldn’t be a proper sleep, fainting was different from sleeping, but they’d have to settle on this for now. He glanced over at Friend, the blue sheep giving Phil a baa before walking forward. At least Friend wasn’t trying to make a break for it while Phil was distracted, the poor sheep probably did want to search for Ghostbur… oh, right.

“I’m so sorry, mate.” Friend didn’t look at him, but Phil was sure that the sheep understood why.

He shook his head, he’d have to make sure Fundy got a better sleep schedule once they got home. With his grandson in his arms, and Friend in front of him, Phil started to head back home.

Surely Techno wouldn’t mind seeing his nephew again.

---

Techno wiped the sweat off his forehead, his breath coming out in cold puffs of smoke. He leaned against one of the spruce trees, taking a moment to breathe in the air of the arctic, the chill wind blowing through his pink hair. The hair tie must have come loose at some point during his training, he’d have to find it in the snow later on. He sniffed, the icy wind smelt of an incoming blizzard. He’d have to bring Carl inside the stables and collect Steve who’d gone out to go fishing in the nearby ice lake. His gaze turned towards the cabin, smoke coming out from the open window. He could only hope that Phil was cooking and that Fundy hadn’t caused a fire. He wouldn’t blame the poor kid, but it certainly would be exhausting to rebuild the house again.

Speaking of his nephew, Techno’s ear flicked up at the sound of a door creaking open. A familiar fox hybrid sneaked out the door, glancing around before pausing to look in the distance. He followed Fundy’s gaze, unsure if his delirious nephew was looking at Steve or at the ice lake.

He sheathed his sword, heading back towards the cabin. Fundy was very unstable, no matter how hard Phil had tried, Fundy refused to sleep. Techno would have to herd or drag him back inside.

Techno paused at the bottom of the steps, careful to avoid Fundy’s gaze, an easy feat to accomplish for he was too occupied to even notice Techno’s presence. He moved up the stairs, feet gently thumping against the wood, but the noise was enough to cause Fundy to bolt.

He glanced over at Techno, dull brown eyes blown completely wide before Fundy jumped off the side of the patio. Techno rushed forward, but Fundy had jumped down into the small pond. His tail was raised and bristled, his teeth bared at Techno while he let out a low growl. He made a move to jump down, preparing himself for the shock of jumping into ice cold water. Luckily, the water only reached up to his knees. Fundy screamed as he jumped down, running further away.

His heart seemed to freeze in his chest. Fundy was headed towards the ice lake. He raced after him, unclasping his blue cape along the way as it was only extra weight. Fundy was quicker, pouncing past fallen tree logs and rocks. He was determined, Techno gave him that. If only his nephew could put that energy into a hobby that didn’t involve jumping into freezing ice lakes.

“Fundy! Fundy!” Techno chased him down, “Fundy, you don’t know how to swim!”

He didn’t get a response, but Techno expected that. Fundy had reached the edge of the river by this point, pausing to glance back at Techno. “Fundy, get away from the edge. Now. Or else.”

His nephew was shivering. Frost had already formed on his dripping wet clothes.

“Mama.” Techno’s nose scrunched up. He hoped his nephew wasn’t hallucinating him for Wilbur’s wife, whose name he’d never been told for Wilbur was adamant to keep her a secret. Fundy scooted closer to the lake, shaking his head the moment Techno took a few steps forward. The fox hybrid had wrapped his arms around himself, his body aware that he was freezing even if his mind was muddled with sleep deprivation. Techno would have to research more on the topic. Fundy pointed at the lake, tears flowing past his cold cheeks despite his smile. “Mama!”

Fundy tried to jump.

Techno rushed forward, taking Fundy by the arms before setting him on his shoulder.

“Mama!” Fundy squirmed in his grasp, reaching back for the ice lake. Techno huffed, lugging his confused nephew back to the cabin, trying desperately to tune out Fundy’s cries. It hurt to hear.

It did hurt to hear, more than he cared to admit. He headed back to the cabin, waiting for Fundy to tire himself out. It was the only sleep he ever got nowadays, if fainting counted as sleep. He glanced back towards the river, unsure of why Fundy had insisted that his mother was in the lake. Phil hadn’t mentioned hallucinations, but Techno knew the signs. He’d heard them all his life, the voices. Fundy had visions, not voices, or maybe he had both. Techno paused on the way, waiting for Fundy’s breath to lull down. He only continued to head back once he was sure Fundy had passed out. He’d have to find a way to get his nephew to sleep. He’d die if he stayed awake.

Now, if he saw his twin brother, he’ll have to ask why Fundy thought a lake was his mother.

---

“I’m not a fucking babysitter, Phil!” It was too late, his dad had flown off before Tommy could curse at him further. He scowled, turning back to his… nephew. Gods, that was so fucking weird.

“Hey, big man. You look shit, you know?” Fundy glanced up at him, the book he’d been reading (though if you’d ask Tommy he was sure that Fundy was just staring at the page) completely forgotten. He sighed, sitting across from Fundy for a moment. It was unsettling - fucking creepy, if you asked him - how Fundy hadn’t stopped staring at him, if anything, he wasn’t sure if Fundy had even blinked once since he’d started staring. “Hey… You know that’s… You okay, Fundy?”

“... Why are you a ghost?”

He felt a chill run down his spine. He traced the scars on his skin, dark forest green eyes flashing in his mind, the stench of decay and blood hitting him in full force. His throat had gone impossibly dry. No one had known of his death, at least, no one had tried to talk to him about it. Fundy wouldn’t… how would he know? “You know you can’t just ask me that kind of question.”

“... How did you die?”

“I did not—” Tommy slammed his hands on the table, the noise startling Fundy. The fox hybrid blinked, mouth agape as if he was only seeing him for the first time. Tommy took a deep breath, counting down from ten before sinking back in his seat. He didn’t remember Fundy being so rude, but then again, he didn’t remember ever seeing Fundy tired. He looked at the dark circles underneath his eyes, wincing at how familiar the look was. “I’m not dead, and I’m not a ghost.”

A clear look was in Fundy’s eyes as he looked at the scars that traced Tommy’s hands.

It disturbed him. Fundy looked aware for the first time since he’d gotten to Phil’s house.

“I can’t sleep.”

“What?” Tommy leaned back against his chair, tilting his head as a bitter smile crossed Fundy’s tired face. He’d known that Fundy was going through some shit, but he didn’t know about what.

“These past few weeks, everytime I close my eyes I could see him.” Fundy curled in on himself, his face buried in his hands. Tommy winced, afraid that Fundy might start sobbing and that he wouldn’t be able to do anything. “I’ve had these nightmares. I can’t sleep because I always wake up in the desert, alone. The van is always there, until it isn’t. Then there are books, and they tell me to wake up. I… I’ve been trying to stay awake but Phil and Techno say that’s not healthy.”

“... They’re right, Fundy, and you know I hate agreeing with Techno of all people.”

“I can’t sleep, Tommy. I won’t.” Tommy didn’t know how long it’s been since Fundy’s had a proper rest, but there’s a reason why Phil had brought him back with him. If Fundy looked like shit now, gods know what he’d looked like when Phil first found him. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Who…?” Tommy frowned.

“The demon.” Fundy paused, and shook his head. “No, not the demon. Wilbur.”

---

He’d escaped. Phil was busy in the mines and Techno had been on the cusp of hibernation. He’d had to run from Steve but he’d gotten away from the arctic and back to the Essempy. Fundy walked down Prime Path, a voice whispering into his ear. His dad was calling him, and Fundy really wanted to see him again. The one in the real world, the one in his nightmares terrified him.

He reached the top of the hill, casting his eyes to the right where the walls of L’Manburg were (once were? no, they were right there). His dad said he’d wait for him at the bench. Well, it was Tommy and Tubbo’s bench but his dad said to meet him there. He swayed at the top of the stairs, shaking his head as he turned to look towards the bench. His dad stood by the edge, the sun illuminating the blue of his uniform. He felt something wet run down his cheeks. He reached up, surprised to find that he was crying. Why was he crying when his dad was right in front of him?

“There you are, Fundy.”

“Hi, dad.”

He stood next to his dad, basking in the sun that was setting in the distance. The sky had turned a beautiful mix of orange, purple, and pink. He couldn’t remember the last time he and his dad had taken the time to watch the sunset. He felt an arm snake around his shoulders, keeping him in place. His dad moved forward a bit, Fundy hesitating to follow. His dad hadn’t turned around to face him yet. His tail stopped wagging, his ears pressed to the top of his head. Was his dad angry at him? Had he taken too long to get to his dad? He let out a small whine, but then an arm ruffled his hair. A smile found its way to his lips. Oh. His dad wasn’t mad at him. That’s good, great.

“How’s my little champion?”

“I missed you.” He hesitated, but reached up to hold his dad’s hand. It’s been years, but somehow his hand still looked so small against his dad’s. He laughed nervously, his hold gentle as if afraid that the vision would end. But it wasn’t a vision. “I missed this version of you, dad.”

“Hm… come with me then.”

His dad finally turned around, a kind smile on his face before he turned back to walk forward.

His breath stuttered in his throat, his dad’s hand suddenly slipping from his hold. His dad was walking away, right into the sunset. Fundy could feel his breath quicken, his head heavy with nausea. His dad was leaving him again. His dad was leaving again. But he said Fundy could go with him, didn’t he? He took a step forward to follow after his dad, climbing over the wooden fence that was in his path. He reached out a hand, calling out for his dad… then he was flying.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He didn’t dare to loosen his grip.

Wilbur breathed through clenched teeth, grasping his son by the arm before willing himself to pull him up. Fundy had fainted, good. Wilbur didn’t want Fundy, his son, to struggle against him.

After a few agonizing seconds, he’d pulled Fundy away from the edge of the cliff.

He held Fundy in his arms, eyes tracing the dark circles beneath Fundy’s eyes. He’d been on a walk down the path when he’d seen his son climbing past the fence. Wilbur couldn’t believe it, but Fundy hadn’t stopped, eager to jump off the edge as quickly as he could. He had been lucky, he’d grabbed just as he fell. He cradled his son in his arms, pressing a kiss to Fundy’s forehead.

“Oh, my little champion…” Wilbur held Fundy closely, “Why would you do that to yourself?”

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

Clarification:

I know he's supposed to be at least out of it... but I wanted Fundy to talk to Tommy cause honestly, I want more of their dynamic. It's like a friendship that doesn't seem like it would hold up... but I think if there's two people on the Dream SMP who has suffered to much, it's Tommy and Fundy.

[cashmeremars]

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 || 𝐚.𝐚

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: archie andrews x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: reader gets attacked at Fred’s construction site and is severely hurt

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, violence (you literally get jumped so..), fluff, set in season 1

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.3k+

𝐚/𝐧: the way this was requested in 2017 oof 

***

The crackling of the fireplace was subtle as the mellow flames dimly lit the room. The stars outside were almost completely visible through the slightly frosted windows of the warm building. Soft music played in the background as the sound of gentle chattering fluttered throughout the room. Off in their own corner of the room was a young couple exchanging whispers and gazes to one another. Anybody could tell they were in love with one another as their hearts melted like chocolate under the sun.

“Hey, thanks for helping out today. It really helped in moving things along. I think my dad likes you more than me now.” Archie laughed softly as he held your hand in his. Archie looked across the small brown table as he stared lovingly into your eyes. Two cups of warm coffee sat between the two as Archie wrapped your fingers around his.

“Thank you, Archie. You know I’d do anything to help you and your family out.” you smiled, steam blowing lightly away from your face as you spoke. You smiled up at Archie when he started to rub your fingers with his.

“I’m just glad it took a lot less time than it usually does. Things have gotten so stressful this year and it’s nice to have another pair of hands helping, especially if it means I get to spend more time with you” Archie spoke with a small smile. You felt your heart flutter lightly at the words. 

“Easy win-win for you then. It’s getting pretty late isn’t it?” You asked as you turned to look at the old clock hanging on the wall

“Yeah. Do you wanna get a ride or something? I can drive you back to my house or you can stay at my place tonight?” Archie spoke

“Archie, I live like 3 seconds away from you, and I have my own car” 

“Sorry, I guess I was being a bit of a clingy boyfriend” Archie nodded his head downwards with an awkward chuckle and what seemed to be a light blush.

“Don’t apologize. It’s cute that you care so much for me” you smiled as you got up and grabbed your things. As you were about to walk away, you felt a slight tug on your arm that forced you to avert your attention towards the boy

“Hey, be safe okay? I’ll see you tomorrow” Archie spoke softly. You turned towards him and gave him a quick peck and two gentle pats on his cheek before turning back towards the door as you gave your goodbyes to everyone else.

***

You shivered as a cold air lingered up your spine, rattling your bones one by one as you took your first step out of the cabin. You wrapped your jacket around yourself tightly as you looked around standing on the porch of the cabin. It was dark, which was expected as it was nearly midnight. The cold air had left signatures of your own breath fluttering around your head. Leaves scattered the ground as autumn was among them, along with something much darker. 

You sighed once more as you made your way down the creaky cabin steps on the way to your car. Just as you were making your way to the parking lot, a twig snapped in the distance. You whipped your head towards the noise, squinting as you looked into the gathering of trees behind the cabin before turning around. You figured it was just another construction worker in the background. You continued to make your way to your car before stopping. It was almost as though an ominous silhouette had been shifting behind you on the path. You shuffled your feet slightly to turn once more before an abrupt rush of pain made its way to your forehead. It was as if 100 baseball bats had been battered against your head. You sharply cried as you fell to the ground. Blood started to rush down your forehead as you clutched your head in pain. Through the gloss of your eyes, you were able to make out multiple feet gathered around your body. A swift kick to your stomach stopped you from yelling for help. Then there was another kick, and then another, until it felt like the kicks would never stop. Your blood mixed with dirt as you could do nothing but cry.

“Help! Someone help me please!” You managed to croak.

“You’re on your own, darling” One of the attackers said before spitting on you and cackling along with the others. 

Fists connected with bones as feet were rammed into flesh. You couldn’t move, and you certainly couldn’t fight back. One final kick to your face had sent you into the depths of unconsciousness, you could faintly hear the cabin door slam open before the voice of your boyfriend was heard. 

It was funny how fast circumstances could change. One second you were surrounded by an atmosphere that screamed love, and safety. A place filled with comfort, a place that was warm, a place that was kind. But it was all just a blanket of security. A blanket that was ripped out from over your body, exposing you to the trouble that lurked just around the corner. Now you were on the ground in a puddle of your own blood. Nothing to protect you, forced to face the harsh realities of life on your own. The harowest of realities. You were in the dark. 

***

Streams of harsh light filtered through your eyelids as you began to regain consciousness. The blood rushing rapidly to your head and the abrasive thumping of your brain had caused you to wince and shut your eyes once more. You let a quiet groan as you felt your eyes welling from the pain once again. The aching and pain prickling at your body had hit you all at once. Every bruise, scratch, and cut could be felt simultaneously, almost knocking the breath out of you. You flinched slightly as your tears slid down over the bruises on your face. 

“Darling?” a soft voice spoke in the corner with a sniffle

“Archie?” you whispered as you attempted to turn your head towards the source of the voice

“Oh my god, you’re awake” Archie sighed as he frantically moved to your bedside, quickly placing your hand in his

“How did I get here?” You ask with a squint. The white lighting in the hospital room was not easing your pounding headache.

“Some guys almost beat you to death when you were walking to your car, when we finally got to you, you were passed out so we drove here as fast as we could”

“Right” you spoke, your eyes welling up with tears as you remembered the utter fear that submerged your body

“It’s my fault” Archie spoke quietly before turning his head away from you

“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying your best to get him to face you once again

“If I hadn’t let you stay with me that late at night, you would’ve been home. Safe. From whoever the hell was trying to hurt you” Archie explained as a tear fell silently from his face and onto the white blanket draped on your body

“Archie-” You whispered

“No. It is my fault. I should’ve walked you to your car, or taken you home myself. But all I did was tell you to be safe, and let you go. Then the exact opposite happened” From the corner of your eye you could see Archie’s fist turning pale as he tightly gripped the side of your hospital bed.

“Archie. Please don’t blame yourself. It really wasn’t your fault. I’m also not in the condition to comfort you anyways” You said as you weakly reached your hand out to him

“Right, sorry” he said before quickly wiping a tear and dragging his chair closer to your bed

“It’s fine” you said as your eyes began to flutter closed again

“Gosh, I just hope we find those assholes that did this to you so they can rot in prison” archie said as he roughly dragged his fingers through his hair

“It just happened so fast, Archie” you said after a beat of silence. The slight waver in your voice caused Archie to glance up at you immediately

“What?” He asked as he leaned in closer to you

“One second I was just walking out of the cabin, and then I got punched in the face. Then beat to the ground. I felt helpless, Arch. I couldn’t do anything, I could barely even yell for help. I’ve never felt so weak and useless in my life, Archie. At that moment, I felt like I was going to die, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I just had to hope that it would be over soon, or that someone would come and rescue me. I hate that I couldn’t defend myself, and I had to wait for someone to find me. What if it happens again, and I’m completely alone? I wouldn’t be able to do anything. Do you know how quickly they could just kill me, Archie? I wouldn’t have a choice but to accept it. I can’t do anything for myself. I’m hopeless.”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t say that. It’s okay, you’re not weak. Quite frankly, there isn’t much people can do when they’re literally being jumped by several strangers. Don’t feel bad because you couldn’t defend yourself, and please don’t feel bad that you “needed saving”. You’re not going to die, alright? The only thing that matters is that you’re alive, and I will do anything to make sure this doesn’t happen again, to you or anyone.” Archie said before planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. At this point you were nearly sobbing as you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. You finally got to take a good look at Archie and saw that his eyes were a vicious red, indicating that he had been crying the past few hours. Archie gazed at you softly as tears of his own began to slip down his cheeks.

“Thank you, Archie. I love you” You whispered, continuing to gaze into his eyes.

“I love you too” Archie uttered back as he softly caressed the back of your hand, just as he had earlier today.

The door opened slightly before a concerned head peeked through.

“Is everything okay in here, Archie?” Fred asked before diverting his attention to you,“Oh, you’re awake?” He said before lightly slipping into the hospital room.

“Yeah, I was just asking how she was” Archie explained, looking back at his father quickly before returning his attention to you

“Do you mind if I have a minute with her, Archie?” Fred asked timidly as he shoved his hands into his pockets 

“Yeah, sure” Archie replied hesitantly before getting up to leave.

Fred watched as Archie left the room, only turning his attention to you once the door had shut.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, taking a seat that Archie had just occupied

“Fine” You muttered before pursing your lips together and staring up at the ceiling

“Really?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in concern

“It hurts. A lot. That’s all I can really say about it.” You spoke once more

“Listen, darling, we’re gonna do everything in our power to find whoever did this to you, and make sure that they face the consequences they deserve. There will be no mercy for whoever harmed my future daughter in law” Fred said sternly, contrasting the worried look that engulfed his features.

There was a long pause of silence as you processed what he had just said to you.

“Daughter in law?” You asked meekly, finally turning to face him.

“Oh, right. Too soon?” He asked with a slight chuckle

“Not at all. It has a nice ring to it” You said with a fond smile

“Good. I’ll make sure you stay alive long enough to make it official” He said in an attempt to lighten the mood. You laughed softly before you spoke once again, “Thank you, Mr.Andrews”

“Anything for my future daughter in law” He replied with a wink before heading out of the hospital room.

***

Archie entered the room almost immediately and headed straight towards you. 

“What did he say to you?” He asked as he noticed the warm smile adorning your bruised face

“Oh, uh, nothing” You said, trying and failing to hide your bliss.

“Really? He walked out of here with a weird smile on his face. Seemed a bit smug.” He explained with a brow raised in suspicion.

“It was nothing too important, Archie. At least not yet.” You said before turning your head to the ceiling once again and shutting your eyes.

For as long as you were in the dark, Archie would be the light that would guide you.

***

a/n: sorry if this was weird but i don’t even watch riverdale anymore lmaooo. i might have been a bit detached writing this lol.

masterlist

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[jimlingss]

Moirai [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

➜ Words: 5k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

“Thank you for inviting me, Lady Anastasia.”   Lucienne sits across the rounded table from you, oblivious to the blossom petals that have drifted down and tangled itself into her hair. The tea party invitation rests beside her teacup, neat and crisp like she held and opened it with the utmost care.    “Yes, thank you.” The other lady beside her pipes up. “It’s an absolute honour.”   “The Royal gardens are lovely this season,” another adds. “I’m glad I can enjoy it like this.”   “It’s not a problem, everyone.” A friendly smile stretches across your face. “It can get quite lonely being the only lady in the castle, so your company is welcome.”   More like Lady Devon and your other tutors was pretty damn insistent that you build a good reputation and inner circle, but whatever. What they don’t know, won’t hurt them.   But you do remember that in the original game, Anastasia used this opportunity to shame the heroine. She invited her to a tea party and made snide remarks about how she danced with the Prince. Of course it seems petty now but it’s understandable that Anastasia resented the heroine so much. Even if she didn’t intend it, she humiliated Anastasia by stealing her fiancé.   And the fact of the matter is that you’ll also become the laughingstock for what she’ll do.   “If I may ask, have you started the wedding arrangements yet, Lady Anastasia?”   You nearly choke on your tea, sputtering for a moment until you’re able to set the cup down on the saucer and cough into your napkin. The ladies around the table appear concerned, but you plaster on another smile. “Well, there’s been no discussion yet. The Royal family and the Devereux house are in no rush. There’s still quite a bit of time, so who knows what could happen.”   “What could happen?” One of them catches on quick and you cordially nod.   “The engagement was made when both Prince Jungkook and I were very young, but now that we are older, we can voice our own opinions on the matter.” You choose your words carefully and your smile widens. “I am not opposed if changes are made. If the leaders of the empire cannot exercise their own freedoms, then how can the people?”    They nod in agreeance, a few in awe at your deep thought process. “That is very mature of you, Lady Anastasia.”   You laugh stiffly and lift your tea cup for another sip.   “Oh, but the Crown Prince is so wonderful.”   You choke. Again. You wonder if you’re going to die at this tea party from the warm liquid constantly going down the wrong pipe.    “I am sure he wouldn’t change his mind with how lovely you are, Lady Anastasia.” The girl beside you smiles, laying it on thick to win your favour. “You two are a very fitting couple.”   “I agree.” Lucy smiles softly. “Prince Jungkook is very courteous.”   “And very majestic.”   You remember when you dueled with Jungkook, he lost within a minute. He threw a tantrum in the following days and gave you the silent treatment. Or that time you went horseback riding, you decided to race each other and he fell off his own horse into mud and started crying.   Uh-huh. Majestic indeed.   You chalk up your wheeze to nothing and dab the corner of your mouth with the tablecloth napkin. “Yes, well, Jungkook will make a fine King someday.”   “And you’ll make a fine Queen,” a soft-spoken voice pipes up and your eyes connect to Lucy’s. Unlike the others surrounding you, you know her words are genuinely spoken and you shift uncomfortably in your seat.   “I’m not so sure about that,” you honestly admit as you fidget with the edge of the porcelain saucer. “A queen must be kind and generous and know the suffering of the people. I’m afraid I have a lot left to learn.”   Your gaze meets Lucy’s again.   Her smile is all too gentle for high society and its naturally cunning, heartless nature. She’s awfully naive, but that aside, you know her benevolence will make her beloved in the empire.   //   Once the tea party is over, you’re able to breathe a sigh of relief. Christ, thank god that’s over.   You escort most of the ladies towards their carriages, bidding them goodbye with polite waves as the palace servants clear the dishes, chairs and table away from the garden. And you turn around to head back to your room to sneak in a break, but your name is frantically called—   “Lady Anastasia!”   You turn and a girl in her purple, simple gown comes barrelling down the open hall. Her chest rises and falls, completely out of breath even when she only ran two meters. It makes you laugh unabashedly. “Is everything okay? You don’t need to run.”   She hunches over, lungs probably burning, but she fixes her posture a moment later. “S-Sorry, my lady.”   “Anastasia is fine.”   Lucy nods. “I...just wanted to thank you again. I was very excited when I received your invitation. It’s an honour….Anastasia.”   “There’s no reason to thank me so much.” You walk alongside her. Your hat with pinned pink peonies, matching your gown, shields the sun away from your face.   “It’s just that I don’t get invited to these sort of events often considering….considering I’m just a baron’s daughter and adopted one at that.”   She doesn’t need to tell you — you know her backstory well. You’ve played through it from her perspective. Her father abandoned her mother who died of illness when she was five and she was picked up on the streets by the sympathetic baron. It seems like every character in this game has some tragic backstory. They are defining moments that make that person.   But you suppose life itself is like that.   “Can I give you some advice, Lucy?” you ask after a quiet moment and she nods. You stop walking and the girl halts beside you. “Your humility makes you likeable, but be careful not to self-deprecate yourself. Your worth is more than what you consider yourself to have.”   Her eyes widen and you add, “Plus, it’s not good to thank a host more than once like they’ve done you a big favour because they’ll start to think you owe them for it.”   Lucy nods and you smile, resuming your stroll. “I’ll be inviting you to more tea parties in the future.”   “Thank—” She catches herself. “Yes, I will be looking forward to that.”   A grin spreads into your cheeks. “On a different note, I never got to ask you how your dance was with Jungkook at the debutante ball.”   “Oh, yes, the Prince was very kind. But I’m sorry if it was inappropriate, I know he’s your fiancé—”   This time, your laugh is unrestrained. She looks up at you in surprise. “Do you think I’m getting jealous?” Lucy opens her mouth and then closes it, not sure what to say and you bat the air with your hand. “Jungkook is like a little brother to me.”   If she was surprised before, now she looks entirely off guard. “It thought the Prince and you were the same age.”   You laugh stiffly. “Yes, we are, but I guess that’s what childhood friends are like.”   “Oh, I’ve never had a childhood friend.”   “Have you ever had a friend?” Your eyes meet her’s and you smile. “Because I’d be happy to be your first.”   The conversation soon ends and as Lucy walks away, you breathe another sigh of relief and pat yourself on the back at the positive interaction. Even if she’s just a countryside girl, it’s nerve-racking when you’re supposed to be the villainess. You like her and you even offered your friendship, but with each interaction, your demise is always lingering at the back of your head.   “I didn’t take you for being such a mentor.”   You whirl around, nearly startled to death by the voice and you discover a tall, dark-haired man leaning against the marble pillar with a sly smile.   “How long have you been there?”   Taehyung grins. “Not long. I was just passing by. It was a coincidence.” He turns in the direction where Lucy went. “I heard you had a tea party, how did it go?”   “It was exhausting.” You stretch your arms over your head and walk over to lean against the stone ledge next to him. “I don’t think I’m quite fit for the palace life.”   Taehyung smiles and you look up at him. “Are you going to the garden again?”   He nods and there’s a strong urge to ask him if you can come along. Just for a small break before they find you and you’re swept up in another lesson. But you’re not sure if you should—   “Would you like to come?”    Taehyung asks the question for you and your eyes meet one another’s.   There’s no one around. Not a soul in sight who could stop you from going or leaving.   You know you should keep your distance from him. You know. But…   “Okay.”   You take him up on the offer, following after him, just for a moment of indulgence.

With the arrival of Spring also comes the Hunt. It’s a rather eventful time in the castle considering it's generally symbolic of the harvests of this year, thought to prevent famine if those attending can bring back large game. An irony that isn’t lost on you. But it’s an undoubtedly lively time and one that you don’t mind.   “You better bring back a whole moose,” you mumble as you tie the blue ribbon on the belt of Jungkook’s armour, making sure it’s tight and secure. The ribbon is a gift of good luck and one of affection. You’re obligated to tie one for Jungkook considering you’re his fiancée.    “I’ll bring back a dragon,” he declares brazingly and you lightly scoff.   This is his second time participating after winning last year, but you remember he was practically shaking back then out of fear and pressure.   “Okay then. Just make sure you don’t fall off your horse this time.”    “That was only once!”   You take a step back when you’re done tying the ribbon. “I should be the one going on the hunt instead of staying back for idle chit chat. I’m pretty sure I would be able to catch something bigger than you.”   “Probably.” Jungkook grins. “You’re good enough with your sword to be a knight.”   “They’d never let me.” You sigh. God knows your mother would be mortified and probably faint and die.    But while staying back and waiting for the men to return with their kill is boring as hell, at least you’re removed from the pressure of having to hunt large prey in the first place. It’s a competition after all and one that can get quite competitive from your knowledge.   You follow Jungkook to his prized white horse and watch him caress its muzzle.    “If you win, you should give the prize to Lucy.”   His brows furrow and he turns his head to you. “Lucienne? The girl I danced with at the ball? Why?”   You shrug half-heartedly. “Because she has no one and I feel bad for her. I already have a few knights who are going to dedicate their game to me.”   Jungkook hums, not thinking much about it. “Fine by me.”   He puts his foot on the stirrup and swings himself over, sitting on top of the majestic horse.   Preparations almost complete, you turn to the King who’s seated at the top of the stands in a throne-like chair. He looks across the field with an approving expression.   Your parents are beside the King and you spare them a mere glance before turning away. You haven’t spoken to them since the end of the debutante ball and you don’t plan to. It might be childish to give them the silent treatment, but you wonder to what end they’ll try to force you.   The attendant steps up. “Is everyone ready?”   At that exact same moment, as if he was called upon, a familiar dark-haired man with eyes the hue of deep honey enters your peripheral vision. Taehyung emerges onto the field filled with knights on horses and soldiers in armour. His navy cape draped over his left shoulder sways with each movement, twinkling in the sunlight as if there were stars sewn into the fabric. He’s grasping onto a steel pole, a magical staff and his presence garners whispers from all.   “Isn’t he the bastard son?” — “The first son of the King.” — “The one born from the maid.”   They’re all startled to see him — the nobles sitting in the stands, women murmuring underneath their breaths, men watching with their eyes wide, knights and guards. And most of all, you’re stuck at a standstill.   Heart thunderous in your ears — blood drained from your face — you can’t look away when all Taehyung is looking at is you.    He comes close and his expression melts into a tender smile, a softened gaze when he reads your eyes’ fixation on him.    Jungkook, on the other hand, grins and mounts off his horse. “Taehyung?!” The Prince welcomes his brother warmly — an action not unnoticed by the crowds watching. He hugs him and lets go a moment later. “What are you doing here?”   “What can I say? I’m here to steal your victory.”   The younger laughs and you can tell he’s genuinely excited. Jungkook’s cheeks are practically pink and bulging, and his eyes have brightened. “Do you want to put a bet on that?”   “How much are you willing to wager?” Taehyung quips back.   “My pride and dignity.”   He scoffs playfully. “How about your private library collection?”   “Deal. And if I win, I want you to come to the feast tonight.”   Taehyung grins. “Looks like this year’s going to be difficult for you, Your Highness.”   “I’ll keep up.” Jungkook laughs again and gets back on his horse.   A stable-boy comes rushing over with a horse for Taehyung and before the King can utter a single word or you have a chance to speak to him, the games have begun. Taehyung glances over his shoulder at you for a single beat and then he’s off into the woods with the rest.    In the original game, Taehyung never participated in the Hunt.   He looked on from the window of his tower and even sabotaged Jungkook.    In the original game, Jungkook became injured but still conscious enough that before he fated, he declared he would give his prize to the heroine since Anastasia was so overbearing. It sparked the girl’s jealousy and was the reason why she decided to conspire with Taehyung. It was the first domino in the chain — the beginning of the villains working hand in hand.   But none of that is happening.   You wonder how far your choices will continue to deviate from the story. How many more mistakes—   “Are you alright, Anastasia?”   You jolt, torn out of your deep trance by a worried gaze. Lucy has leaned in towards you, her brows knitted together and you smile. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.” You quickly change the subject. “Have you given your ribbon to anyone yet?”   The pair of you are walking down the castle hall, heading towards the dining hall where you know the noble women will be having tea and making small talk while waiting for their sons and husbands.   Lucy shakes her head and unties the blue ribbon she had around her wrist.    “Why not?”   She stares at the soft satin for a second and then looks up at you, mustering a small smile. “I wouldn’t know who to give it to.”   “Well, you still have time to decide. You can give it to someone when they get back.” You hum to yourself. “How about giving it the Crown Prince?”   Lucy’s eyes are as large as saucers and she blinks thrice.   You’re a bit endeared with how surprised she seems at your suggestion. “Don’t you admire Prince Jungkook?”   “I...I do,” she admits quietly and peeks at you again. “But I wouldn’t want to overstep—”    “Not at all!” You reassure her. “Prince Jungkook likes the admiration. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind whatsoever. He might actually appreciate it.”   The girl smiles to herself and nods.   Evening sets in after meaningless conversations, cordial expressions and polite responses. The only interruptions are the horns that ring as each participant in the Hunt slowly arrives back.   Jungkook returns sweaty and out of breath, but with a whole moose like he promised. There are cheers and applauses, but more importantly, silent gasps when he beelines straight to Lucy to give her the prize. She blushes, a stuttering mess full of ‘thank yous’ and ‘it’s an honour’, and you discover Jungkook’s bashful behaviour at her sincere gratitude.    He scratches the back of his neck, diverts his vision, mutters ‘it’s fine’. It’s fascinating to watch considering he’s always been arrogant and bratty to you since the day you met him.   But you don’t get to observe their moment for long.   Not when the horns ring again and a figure appears over the horizon.    This time, no one moves. Truly stunned. Breaths hitched. Holy shit. Taehyung arrives back with a bear and he doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat.   “Wow!” Jungkook is the first to react, moving out of the crowd to his brother. He’s genuinely amazed and impressed, jaw dropped and brows shot to his hairline. “You did this?!”   “Didn’t I say I would win?” Taehyung grins languidly.   “This...is incredible!” Jungkook’s admiration for his brother causes the unsettled crowd to finally calm. It starts off slow, a clap here or there and then it’s applause, cheering and murmurs of acknowledgment.   “Has anyone ever brought a bear back before?” — “Did he use magic?” — “Why didn’t the eldest son participate in the Hunt before?”   And you know that it’s the first time people have clapped for Taehyung.   The attendant rushes forward, sputtering on his words. “T-The winner for this year’s Hunt is His Highness, Prince Taehyung!”   Taehyung wins a chest of gold, worth more than fifty commoner’s lifetimes and you watch as he bows his head as he receives it. You watch as he holds it and strides towards you. You watch until his arms have extended and a smile draws upon his features.   “What are you doing?” you ask, a whisper that’s befallen off your lips, spilled past the astonishment.    His gaze and smile never wavers. “I’m giving my prize to you.”   The crowd’s stirred to silence, watching the two of you, and you receive the wooden chest.   The attendant quickly announces the feast in the hall and servants begin ushering the people inside. But you continue watching Taehyung, your eyes connected to his, both grounded in the private bubble.   No one notices the King sitting on top of the stands, his brows tightly knitted.    //   The dining hall has shifted.   No longer are there laced tablecloths, towers of pastries and teapots from the afternoon. It’s large plates that have stretched along the surface, meats and cheese, breads and butters that have begun the feast. There are grandiose chairs all around three different tables, arranged based on importance and connections, conversations that have filled the enormous room.   The darkness of the night is casted away by the chandeliers overhead, illuminating the room in a golden hue. Yet, while each is high on the atmosphere, drunk by the wine, you can’t swallow the food down.    The tapping of utensils on glass has you looking over. The room simmers down.    By the coaxing of Jungkook beside him, Taehyung rises from his chair and clears his throat. It’s customary for the victor of the Hunt to give a speech and you’re guessing this is it.   “Thank you all for coming.” Taehyung appears unfamiliar and awkward addressing the crowd, quickly rushing over his words as if to get it done and over with. “I have never participated in the Hunt before this year and it was only because of beginners luck that I won. That—”    Suddenly, Taehyung looks right at you. “—and the support of those most important to me.”    Then, as quick as he stole his glance, he turns away. “I hope the harvests of Ashea will prosper this year.”   There’s thunderous applause and the feast resumes.   You’re overwhelmed, dizzy, the celebrations of the room getting to your head — laughter, questions, comments louder by ten decibels until it feels earsplitting.   You look over at Jungkook, finding that he has two blue ribbons pinned on his left side. He’s smiling widely, oblivious. Then, your head whirls over to your parents sitting down the table. They might have friendly smiles plastered on their features, but you can tell through their eyes that there’s seething anger. They’re unhappy, most likely with you, most likely with what happened earlier.   “Anastasia.” Lady Devon, who sits beside you, calls you out of your thoughts, disapproving at how your listening skills could be so poor.   You blink, pretending you were in deep thought about her discussion of silver forks and the corner of your mouth tugs. “If you’ll excuse me…”   After a delayed moment, she nods and you push your chair back, blurring into the massive paintings on the wall as you slip out to the terrace.   The night is cold.    Each exhale of yours is visible and you tug the soft pink shawl around your shoulders closer to your body for some warmth as you lean against the railings. You look up at the star-filled sky, finally able to calm yourself from the noise inside. You’ve always been glad that no matter where you are, what universe it is, there’s always the same sun, stars and moon. A constant.   One thing you don’t have to worry about.   “Is there something wrong?”   You know who it is before you’ve even turned around.    It’s a relief. You’ve waited all day to be able to speak to him, to be away from prying eyes and in a private moment. It’s easing. Your nerves take comfort in the familiarity, somehow finding his very presence soothing. Yet it’s unsettling at the same time. You have too many questions, too many suspicions and you don’t know if you want to uncover the truth.   But you gather your strength and face Taehyung. “I’m just thinking.”   “About what?”   Taehyung approaches your side. The warm light from inside the palace spills out and your shadows cast onto the grass beneath the terrace. There is not a soul in the hall when they’re all inside the dining hall, celebrations and conversations muffled through the many walls.   You inhale a breath. “Why?”   Taehyung frowns.   You ask again, “Why did you give me your prize?”   “Should I not have?”   Half of his face is illuminated, the slope of his nose and dip of his cupid’s bow sharp against the glow of the chandeliers, reminiscent of the chiaroscuro of a painting.   “That’s not it. Just…..” Why does he treat you so kindly, why does he want to go out of his way to talk to you, why does he look at you like that— “Why?”   In the original game, Anastasia was Taehyung’s chess piece and nothing more.   “Does there need to be a reason?” The corner of his mouth tugs gingerly. “I wanted to, so I did.”   “But there’s so many eligible bachelorettes you could’ve them them to, like Lady Myoi or Lady Paxton—”   “None of them matter,” he injects without needing to blink or think twice. “Not like you do.”   Your head snaps up and your eyes meet. Taehyung gazes at you tenderly, searching your irises with a small smile and he swallows hard. His voice lowers when he asks, “Are you cold?”    Oddly enough, even with the chilly wind whisking through the branches and swaying the leaves, you aren’t cold if he’s here.    Yet suddenly, Taehyung snaps his fingers and you’re engulfed with the warmth of an embrace. It’s the heat of a winter fire crackling underneath the mantle, the Summer sun casting down on your cheeks, and it travels from your toes to your head, and you can’t help the giggle that spills from you.    “What did you just do?”   He grins and leans closer to you. “It’s a simple warmth spell.”   Your brow cocks. “How much magic do you exactly know?”    He even managed to get that bear without looking like he had to fight. Your efforts to get him not to tap into magic all those years ago were in vain, but you have to admit it’s pretty cool.   Taehyung looks away, smile easing. “It doesn’t matter how much magic I have. It’s not enough for what I really want.”    Your breath hitches in your throat. The implications of his words welcomes the tension back into the air that had snuck itself away for a simple moment. But it isn’t uncomfortable. It isn’t the kind of tension that comes when you’re speaking to the Duke and Duchess, not the stiffness that arrived when you were being scolded by Edith. No. It’s different. It’s….intimate.    Especially when he sneaks a glance at you and you hold it, eyes fixated into his.   None of you speak, breathe, bat a lash. Not when Taehyung starts to lean in close. Not when you begin to feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin, when you can hear the thunderous noise of his heartbeat bruising his rib cage. His lash tickles yours. But before your lips can brush—   You push him away.   Taehyung stumbles back, nearly falling over, but he grasps the railings.   Your breath heaves and you stare at him in shock, in horror with what was about to happen. And before anything can be said or done, you turn away.   “Wait! Anastasia!” Taehyung calls after you. “I’m sorry!”   “I….I need to leave.”   You can’t deviate from the story more than you already have. This is a mistake.   In the midst of your panic, you return to the dining hall and cut through the room. It’s the quickest way back to your chambers, so you don’t hesitate to move your steps, never once looking behind your shoulder. Luckily, Taehyung doesn’t follow after you. He can’t.    But while each is celebrating and distracted with their company, a certain girl notices your distraught and frantic form beelining to the massive doors.   Something doesn’t sit right in her, so she immediately stands and bows her head to the woman she was speaking to. “If you can excuse me, thank you, I’ll be right back.”   Lucy follows after you, eyes pinned on your backside.   The only people who pay any mind is your mother, the Duchess of Devereux. Her senses are sharp and she taps your father on the shoulder until he follows her line of sight to the girl.   The castle grounds are dark, the moon waxing but not yet full enough to provide a bright light. But enough is shed for you to see. It’s enough for shadows to cast along the stone walls. You would never walk outside at this time of night, but you need air. More of it. Something you can breathe in and hope will clear the cloudiness inside your mind, the noise that’s earsplitting.   A gentle tap on your shoulder has you screaming.   “It’s me!” Lucy puts her hands out, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”   You catch your breath, steadying it and you swallow hard. “W-What are you doing outside? I thought you were still celebrating the feast.”   “I saw you walking by and I thought something was wrong and I got worried, I’m sorry.” She looks at you when the silence is ongoing. The concern is evident through her knitted brows. “Are you alright, Anastasia?”   It seems like everyone is asking you that question today.   A question you don’t know how to respond to yourself.   But you manage a nod and a smile. “I’m fine. I was just tired. I was thinking of retiring to my room early.”   “Oh, okay.”   You step towards her and grasp her hands within your own. “Can you do me a favour, Lucy, and keep Jungkook company tonight? He might be looking for me too and I don’t want him to be worried.”   “I will.” She nods. “But do you want me to escort you to your room? I could call someone—”   “No, it’s quite alright. I’ll be fine.” You smile and let go of her. “You should go back now before someone goes looking for you.”   Lucy nods for a second time and she bids you a goodnight as she walks back.   You’re left by yourself and you turn to tread your own way. The weight of so many decisions lie upon your shoulders and slow down your steps. You wonder why you have to bear the heavy burden of knowing your future, of knowing all of theirs while trying to escape your own fate.    It feels like you’re a pawn trying to control the whole chess board.   You exhale a breath, watching the cloud dissipate and unbeknownst to you, there’s a rustle in the garden’s bushes.   “That’s her, isn't it?”   Two shadows emerge from the darkness and before your ears can pick up on the noise, before you can turn around and meet the figures, a cloth is clamped over your mouth. Your shout is muffled and arms begin to drag you in the opposite direction of the castle.   What the fuc—    Immediately, your elbow juts out and the man behind you sputters, cowering over with a curse. You manage to slip out of his loosened grip, about to sprint and yell. Until another overtakes you and grabs hold of your wrists, yanking you back.   “Wench!” A cold blade sits at the juncture of your throat and you freeze, breaths tearing out of your throat frantically. You can fight him. Years of swordsmanship didn’t render you useless after all. But his threat delays you— “Shut your mouth if you don’t want Baron of Liza dead too.”   What?   Your mouth is stuffed with cloth and you’re roughly ripped into the darkness.   At the same time, Taehyung, still at the terrace and about to leave, turns around.

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Foolishly Intelligent

Based on this request:  I love your imagines! I would like to request a Sherlock imagine if that’s alright? Something along the line of the reader being Mycroft’s and Sherlock’s far younger sister. She tries to connect with her brothers but often feels left out. She started in her teens by Learning everything about murders, investigation and politics in order to find common ground with her brothers. Ad an adult this leads to her being part of Scotland Yard and always giving Greg an heart attack due to jumping into dangerous situations. He’s had enough and decides after one close call too many to involve her big brothers to chew her out.

Here you are! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Warnings: Angst, arguing, Caring big brothers that pretend not to care because one is a high-functioning sociopath and the other is Mycroft XD, mentions of possible crush??

Pairings/Characters: fem!reader, brother!Sherlock Holmes, brother!Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade

Greg Lestrade had had it. You were a wonderful detective, that much was true, but you had a bad habit. You liked to put yourself in dangerous situations ALL. THE. TIME! You would often quite literally throw yourself into harm's way to get the job done or to protect others. Greg normally wouldn't say anything even though it gave him a near heart attack every time. But since learning of Sherlock's fake death, it had become worse.

         The man could sort of understand where you were coming from. You had big shoes to fill with your brothers being who they were. Even as a child, you'd had trouble connecting with them. You had gone out of your way to learn and do things to help your relationship. And it wasn't that they didn't love you or respect you. It was that they could often have full conversations just through a look or that they would play their little deduction games and you would feel left out.

         You'd told Greg, after having a few drinks one night, that you had been trying since your teens to connect with Sherlock and Mycroft. You were just as intelligent as they were so you began learning about murder, investigations, and even politics from an early age. Still, nothing seemed to help you connect with them. You'd even joined the Yard to spend more time with Sherlock.

         But this last time was one too many for Greg. You had nearly died and the DI had a soft spot for you. In fact, you were the only Holmes the man could stand being around for more than a few minutes at a time. He didn't think he could take it if you kept running head-on into danger, but he knew you wouldn't listen to him. So, as he sat there next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up, he contemplated who you would listen to. There were only two people that popped into his head.

         With a soft sigh, Greg stood and left your room to make a call. "Hello, Gavin. Has there been a murder?" Greg pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't lose his temper now. "No, Sherlock." Sherlock scoffed on the other end of the line. "Boring. If you've nothing interesting to offer me, I'll say goodbye now."

         "WAIT!" Greg shouted, then a little more softly added, "Your sister's in hospital." For a moment, there was only silence. Then Sherlock spoke again, "Watson, call Mycroft. St. Bart's?" Greg confirmed and was promptly hung up on. You were going to hate him when you woke, but at least your brothers might be able to talk some sense into you.  

         Sherlock burst through the doors a little while later, with Mycroft sauntering in a few moments after. "Would someone care to explain why I have been dragged from an important meeting?" Mycroft asked, prompting Greg and John to glare at the younger Holmes brother. "You didn't tell him?!" Greg hissed before turning to Mycroft, "Long story short, your sister's here. She decided to go into a hostage situation, alone, with no sidearm." Mycroft's brows furrowed briefly before a look of pure rage came over his features for a moment.

         "And you didn't stop her?" Greg opened his mouth, but it was Sherlock who answered, "Oh please, Mycroft. Y/N would never listen if the lives of others are in danger. Not to Gordon anyway." Greg once again rolled his eyes. Would that man ever call him by his actual name?

         "He's right. She doesn't listen. She's always throwing herself into situations like this. I thought, when she wakes up, the two men she looks up to the most could talk some bloody sense into her. Maybe then she'll listen." Both Holmes brothers merely stared at the DI, causing him to huff and walk away with John at his heels. He couldn't deal with them any longer for the moment. He needed to return to your side.

         Just his luck, you were already awake when he pushed the door open. "Inspector," you greeted tersely. You had seen John behind him so you knew Sherlock wasn't far behind. "Don't look at me like that, Detective." You scoffed. "Like what? Like you betrayed my trust by calling them in? I know they're here. Might as well bring them in so I can hear all about how disappointed Mummy will be." Greg's brows furrowed in confusion. "Y/N…I just want you to be safe. Your brothers do too."

         "Oh? Which brothers? The one who chucks himself off a building and pretends to be dead for 2 years? Or the one who knows about it and says nothing? Or the ones who refuse to let me into their lives, no matter how hard I try? I know I'm not brilliant like they are, but I try, dammit. And this is the only time I ever seen them away from home. When I'm in hospital."

         "Fine," Greg soothed, "Fine. Don't talk to them. I don't care. But you have to stop being so reckless and stupid, Y/N. For my sake." Greg gaze your hand a little squeeze before leaving the room and allowing your brothers to walk in. For a moment, you said nothing, watching the space Greg had just been occupying. You were trying not to cry. Your brothers didn't do well with hysterics.

         "Sherlock. Mycroft," you said. "Look at me, Y/N." You sighed softly. You knew you weren't exactly acting like an adult at the moment. That would get you nowhere with them. You swung your (e/c) eyes over to them. Sherlock stood with his hands in the pockets of his coat while Mycroft stared intently at you. They were both trying to deduce something about you. "Stop it," you ordered sharply, "Stop trying to deduce me and just ask me the question you want to ask." They exchanged a glance before turning back to you.

         "Inspector Lestrade informed us that you threw yourself in harm's way yet again." You shrugged a bit. "I would again too. There were children in there. The elderly." Sherlock let out a scoff. "And that makes it okay for you to be so monumentally stupid?"

         "I'm NOT stupid! Just because I'm not as callous as you are doesn't mean I'm an idiot, Sherlock! God, now I see the problem. It was never my fault we never connected. It was yours. You never tried." Your brothers stared at you in surprise. You had never spoken to them that way before. You rolled your eyes and groaned when your head began to hurt again.

         "Just go. Both of you. You can tell John and Inspector Lestrade that they are welcome here. I don't want to see you two again for a while." You turned your head away from them both, indicating that you were done with the conversation. You heard them open the door to leave. "Oh, and don't you dare call Mummy. I'll tell her myself when I know I'm alright." Neither of them said anything, but left the room.

         When you heard the door close behind them, you let a few tears finally fall. You hadn't wanted to blow up at them and you'd mostly likely end up apologizing later, but for now you were upset. You didn't have long to stew in your anger though before the door opened again. You turned to look and sighed. "I thought I told you to go."

         "And we did. You failed to specify just how long you consider to be a 'while'. We listened to what you said and now it is your turn to listen to us. Despite what you may think, you are no closer to 'connecting' with Mycroft or myself by running head-long into danger." You arched a brow at him. "Oh, you mean like you do?" Sherlock didn't look impressed, but you could see Mycroft trying not to smirk.

         "The point, little sister, is that, in spite of everything, your welfare is important to us. We need to know that you are safe. The career you've chosen lessens that likelihood, but deliberately putting yourself in situations where you could die destroys our hope for it completely."

         "Oh gee, Mycroft, you do care," you replied sarcastically. You let out another sigh, "Look, I'm sorry. I know you're right. Just…please. Please stop letting this be the only reason you even check in with me. I know I'm not like you two. I never have been, but stop shutting me out. Okay? If you can promise me that, then I will promise to try and be more careful. For Mother and Father's sake. And for Greg's." You tried not to let your face show any emotion. Nothing to give away anything.

         "Who?" You laughed lightly while Mycroft arched a brow. "We will discuss that topic at another time. I suppose I can agree to your terms. Sherlock?" Sherlock's blue eyes met yours and he nodded. You smiled; a genuine smile for the first time since they walked in the room. "Good. Now could you please leave? I'd really like to sleep now that I've been yelled at by both my brothers and my boss."

         They opened the door again and you sat up. "Oh, and seriously. Don't tell Mummy." With a chuckle, your brothers left and you laid back to get a little more rest. Mycroft and Sherlock nodded at Greg when they exited the room, knowing he'd heard everything anyway. Greg breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully things would get better now. Greg looked in at you and smiled when you gave him a tiny wave.

(a/n: I hope this does your request justice!)