#the idea felt a little too ooc to share at first. but. This IS the same guy who did a funeral for his sword.

[hylianane]

Yeah, hello, I read a translation of the Zoro novel. God stuck on a particular bit.

The novel establishes that in Shimotsuki Village, there’s a tradition similar to of floating lanterns in Japan, and I believe a lot of East Asia. The fan translator said they call it the Fire Float in Shimotsuki, where on the anniversary of a person’s death, they place candles on boats made of bamboo leaves and set them down the river so the person’s visiting soul can find their way back to the underworld.

The novel also quickly established that Zoro doesn’t really attend that ceremony, not even for Kuina. Probably for the best, since he’d probably just get the souls lost. But. I’m stuck on it. Because what if he started paying his respects in the form of a Fire Float. But only after he’s thousands of miles away from Shimotsuki Village.

In the days leading up to the anniversary of Merry’s (and Yubashiri’s) death, the idea of the Fire Float wont leave him alone. And its not because of any sentimentality he harbors in his little Grinch heart, surely not. It’s just. The irrational thought of if Zoro doesn’t do it, then who will guide their soul back to rest? proves to be too distracting. So he mans up and asks Hawkeyes to spare him some candles, and tries his best to remember how to make boats out of leaves while ignoring the Ghost Girl pestering him about what he’s even doing. Some months go by, and he’s crouched by the river in Kuraigana again, doing the same thing for Ace.

The following year, it comes a lot more naturally. He doesn’t feel as embarrassed, or superstitious, now that he knows Mihawk could care less what he does and Perona isn’t someone who’d mock him for that kind of thing. The year after that, however, he almost chickens out again. If it weren’t for the sudden hollow pit in his stomach once the date of Merry’s death approaches, and the question of who will help them when they get lost? coming back with a vengeance, he most likely wouldn’t have had the courage to ask Nami to time their arrival to the next island more carefully. Or to ask Franky and Usopp if they know how to build leaf boats that aren’t shitty. He definitely wouldn’t have been able to swallow down his embarrassment with a cup of sake before explaining why he’s asking these favors of them of them at all.

It was a dumb thing to get in his own head about though, all things considered. Cause when they hear about the little remembrance holiday Zoro’s planning, instead of raising eyebrows at the uncharacteristic sentimentality of it all, they don’t coo at him in mockery, no, his crewmates seem to sort of. melt. at the idea of doing something like that to honor their dead. Usopp even blinks tears away, a little in disbelief, when he learns that Zoro started doing it out of concern for Merry. The atmosphere almost gets a little too genuine, too sugary sweet for Zoro’s palette.

But then they stop to laugh at the very idea of Zoro leading anyone anywhere.

[agnireed]

Rainfall

summary 🏹 you've convinced yourself daryl hates you and that only increases when you have to go on a run together

word count 🏹 9.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, daryl and reader are embarrassingly bad at feelings, slow burn, slightly ooc side characters (maggie and beth)

thank you to @sparklytyphoondaze for the suggested prompt!

You had almost started to think you were going crazy right alongside the state of the world. 

There wasn’t any other person, before or after that fall, that could bring you to the level of confusion and anger that Daryl Dixon managed to without fail every time you were forced to speak to each other. It was made even worse by the fact you had no idea what about you got him so upset.

You contributed to the group whenever you were needed and then some, you had never once insulted him or even sent a mean look his way unprompted and there was certainly no stand out event that had seared this bitterness into his mind. 

It seemed like he just hated you for no reason at all and this drove you insane in a way that you wish it didn’t. You didn’t necessarily fall under the belief that everybody had to like you but it really rubbed you the wrong way that somebody had decided they didn’t just because of the way you were.

At first you had figured it had to do with your young age but he didn’t sneer at Beth the same way he did with you and nobody else seemed to agree with your assumption whenever you pried them for any known information. 

You certainly had too much time on your hands these days at the prison because you had gone full blown investigator mode to try and figure out what you had been doing so wrong.

Maybe you reminded him of somebody from his past that he had a hard time with or possibly he found annoyance in the fact you managed to carry your love for all things pink and cute over into the apocalypse with you. You felt ridiculous for actually taking this to heart and you frowned at yourself in the mirror when you pulled a particularly beige tank top over your head instead of your typical blush colored ones. 

Daryl wasn’t going out of his way to be mean to you or specifically targeting you when he didn’t have to but a slightly annoyed glance from the man was enough to rattle you for the rest of the day, for reasons you didn’t really understand.

You prided yourself on being pretty tough and there was a lot you could handle before you even felt a twinge of upset but not when it came to the stoney archer. 

He was easy enough to ignore but that was full blown impossible whenever it came to Rick allowing you to do anything the other group members did. He would scoff angrily under his breath and storm off when you were assigned to go on a run and you’d see them having heated discussions whenever you were put on gate duty for long shifts. 

It was clear to you that he didn’t find you capable of helping out and although he never outwardly said it you knew that he felt uneasy trusting the lives of the others in your hands, marking you as a liability even though you’d never so much as tripped on a run let alone endangered people you considered family. 

“Am I really that bad?” You would have felt ridiculous for being so whiny but you knew Beth and Maggie were used to you coming into a cell with this exact tone by now. You had seen the look they shared when you flopped down onto the bed with a groan and now your eyebrows furrowed as you sat back up to face them. “What was that look?”

The younger of the sisters fell silent and she looked almost like she was holding in a laugh as she watched the side of Maggie’s face and waited for her to say whatever it was they were silently communicating. 

“Nothing honey it’s just…” Her familiar light twang was doing very little to soothe your worry and annoyance and you leaned in closer as she took a second to pause and stifle a building laugh. “Are you wearing brown?”

You froze as you processed her words before glancing down at the shirt you had thrown on today and groaning at the same time Beth was finally letting out an actual laugh. The sight of you in anything this shade was certainly unfamiliar and clearly a big enough deal that it was all they could focus on right now, ignoring your question you had originally asked in favor of making fun of you. 

“I don’t think his issue with you is you being girly.” Beth had a voice that couldn’t sound anything but sweet even if she tried so you took her statement as genuine reassurance even if she was still attempting to tease you. 

The pair had long been subjected to your ramblings about the older man and every little biting remark or disinterested stare he sent your way and they were just as stumped as you. Although they provided no solution for your issue it was still comforting to know you weren’t making it up and other people had noticed his distaste for you.

You sulked back to your own cell only an hour or two after joining the sisters and listening to them ramble about their own problems and thoughts, commonly occurring sessions where you could all get some things off your chest. It was a nice dynamic and you often felt touched by how easily they had brought you into the fold of their sisterly bond. 

Everybody in the group felt the same to you, love and trust apparent between each of you and then all together as a whole. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the people inside these walls and you felt no doubt in them doing whatever it would take for you in return if and when you needed it. 

There was only one exception to this feeling and you were growing more and more frustrated by his refusal to bond with you, even if it was surface level.

You didn’t think Daryl would leave you without water if you were dying of thirst but you figured if it was in a high tree he might just tell you it wasn’t worth the effort.

Your theory was most likely going to be tested in some shape because Rick was approaching you the next day to tell you in the most stern voice he could muster that you would be going on a run. You could tell from the look in his eye that he was telling you this way because a certain somebody would be tagging along but you expected that it was just going to be the two of you on your own.

“Ain’t happening.” Daryl seemed just as dejected as you did at the news but Rick had apparently given him alot less time to be upset about it considering the words flying from his mouth when he saw you and your leader approaching him on his bike, already loaded up and at the gate ready to go. 

You sighed at the realization you were a surprise guest, annoyance in your gut knowing this would only further his hatred towards you.

“Who would you prefer?” Rick was spitting back at him in a half whisper like it would save you from being able to hear. You were even more hurt at the way he phrased it, clearly letting you in on the fact they had had this conversation before. “The cars can’t get through, not on that route.”

“I can ride a bike.” You weren’t sure why you had tried to help out with the slightly useless piece of information, knowing neither of them would ever let you go by yourself on a run let alone with Daryl’s bike. If either of them seemed surprised by the fact then they didn’t show it but his sneer turned to you faster than you could retract your suggestion. 

“Like hell you will.” He said it so harshly that you were almost taken back by it. He was never kind to you but it certainly hadn’t gotten to this point in quite some time and your eyes flashed with surprise as you took a few steps backwards so you were further behind Rick.

He watched you for a breath or two after that and you almost thought you saw regret passing over his face even though it was gone as quickly as it came once he faced Rick again. You were pushing yourself further back with another sigh so they could quickly have their biting conversation and get it over with. 

You’d already done the checklist in your head and realized there truly was nobody else who could both be on the back of his bike and also perform well in a run and it was only a matter of time before he understood that too. He was an asshole but he wasn’t unreasonable and you knew he wouldn’t completely abandon a run just because he didn’t want you coming along.

Your theory proved correct because soon enough you were settling yourself on the seat behind him and smiling tightly at Rick when he placed a hand on your arm, silently wishing you good luck with a firm nod.

You did your best to ignore his grumbles for you to hold on and luckily you had grown up on a bike and weren’t saying that for no reason so it was easy enough to sit still and not disturb him. There was a deeper bratty part of you that wanted to softly rock side to side just enough to get his attention and annoy him but you decided against it.

If he was going to dislike you then you wanted it to be a complete reflection of his poor character and nothing to do with you.

He was surprisingly docile for most of the long ride and even let you take a break on the side of the road midway through so you could both stretch your legs and avoid cramping up by the time you got there and actually had to be on high alert. 

“It’s a nice bike.” You felt stupid for speaking as soon as you heard the sound of your own voice and saw his head snapping up to look at you.

He was crouching down near it like he was investigating an issue but you knew he was just pretending to be busy to avoid the awkward silence or having to talk to you, two things that were currently happening thanks to your lack of impulse control.

“Sorry.” You were sighing and awkwardly looking away from him, taking a few steps closer to the tree line because how uneasy his strong gaze was making you feel. A rush of embarrassment overtook you and you strangely felt like you were going to tear up for some reason, pushing some loose rocks with your foot and glancing down the road. 

“S’all good.” He was finally responding and your eyes widened in surprise, glad to see he had looked away again just in time and didn’t see your reaction. “Was my brothers.”

“I remember.” Your voice was soft because you had actually known where the bike came from just from hearing him mention it a handful of times and you also knew enough to know why he tensed at the reminder that you had actually met his brother.

Daryl hadn’t been as docile then in his anger both towards you and everybody else and it felt like you got left behind with Merle on that rooftop when he decided to let down some of his walls and start trusting people. You weren’t a part of that equation which confused you even more now that you started to recall the earliest days of your meeting.

You had been pretty much the sole target of Merle’s disgusting rants about the women in the camp, making comments in passing about the others but really locking in on you whenever you were in his line of sight. He switched between degrading you and your ability to keep up with him and the men with you to just as quickly cat calling you and encouraging you to join him in camp.

There was a quickly built resentment towards him and his brother but the latter faded when you would catch Daryl defending you when he assumed you were out of earshot, at least the best he could without enraging his brother. 

He would tell him to leave you alone when he noticed his brother's hazy eyes zoning in on you like he wanted to approach or make a quick comment about how you were too young for him to be perving on you. All mild attempts to derail Merle’s small attention span but you appreciated the effort considering it was much more than the other men around camp would do and they didn’t have a reason to be cautious of the wild man like Daryl did.

That had all changed when Rick showed up and you felt a surge of hope as soon as you heard him addressing the group for the first time, solid and sturdy in his words even when he was allowing Shane to still bark the orders and have control.

You knew from the first day that you finally had somebody to take lead over your dire situation and you knew men like Merle Dixon would never bother you again.

No part of you thought Daryl was similar to his brother in any way but you still felt the same hurt regardless if it was intentional from his end. 

“C’mon.” He wasn’t giving you a response to what you had said and you were glad he hadn’t, much preferring the loud hum of the bike to help quiet your endless thoughts. 

This time he didn’t completely tense up when you were circling your hands around his waist and you were weirdly finding some comfort knowing he was with you when you thought back on those days at the quarry. Was there a different world where Daryl didn’t dislike you and kept up the protective streak he’d shown back then or was that sincerely a complete one off?

You wondered if it would be weird to ask him directly about what you had done to upset him, both bringing it to reality for the first time and also exposing yourself for caring way more than you should about what he thought.

It might have been an age thing that led you to not only not wanting to disappoint him but you found yourself actively wanting to impress him and catch his attention. Even an interested gaze rather than an annoyed one would probably make your day at this point and you found yourself ridiculous for the tenth time since you left the prison just a few hours ago.

There was the same urge in you when it came to Rick and Hershel, even Glenn occasionally although you looked towards him more as a brother while the latter two reminded you of that fatherly connection you’d always seeked out.

You felt warmed whenever Hershel checked in on you and softly told you to take better care of your health and you’d do just about anything Rick asked of you as long as it meant he was proud of you and felt you were a good addition to the group.

Your nose scrunched up at the thought of thinking towards Daryl in any type of fatherly way and you quickly scratched that idea off your endless boards of guesses.

Luckily he was pulling to a stop before you could jot down anything else in your mental notebook and you glanced around your surroundings for just a second before you were bracing your hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg over his bike, landing flat on your feet with a little groan.

The muscles in your thighs were tight from the stretch and constant tensing to brace yourself around turns and debris in the road and you imagine he was feeling a similar pain judging by the face he made when he roughly kicked the stand down to steady the bike.

You silently watched him as he covered it in light shrubbery, opting to stay out of his way and let him do whatever it was he felt like he needed. It was always simpler to wait for him to tell you what to do instead of doing it on your own and dealing with him getting angry and correcting you. 

He whistled lowly and started to walk away from you and you took the wordless cue easily, following behind with a hand on your knife holster and your eyes sharp to your surroundings. 

There was no amount of huffing and puffing from him that would make you think you were a liability out in nature. You didn’t have as quick of reflexes as he did and there was no way you’d ever catch up in terms of survival skills but you were good at handling yourself and extremely light on your feet.

Luckily there was a lack of complaints from him today as the two of you approached the small strip mall quietly and fast, half crouched in a way that made your knees ache as you followed behind him. 

He stopped too abruptly behind an abandoned car for you to notice and you bumped into his back, immediteyly reaching out in an attempt to steady him and he turned his head to glare at you over his shoulder. The walker growls in the distant stopped you from verbally apologizing but you hoped he could see it in your eyes.

That must have annoyed him enough that he decided you shouldn’t be behind him and out of sight, shaking your hands off of him before taking a few low steps back and nudging you forward.

You sighed at his clear lack of forgiveness but focused on the task at hand and made sure the area was clear before moving forward and finally reaching the buildings. You could see one of the windows were busted as you pushed yourself against the wall and you glanced at him once he reached you.

He was as close to you as he ever probably had been and you took a few seconds to watch the way his built chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, shoulders pressed to yours and face blank as he glanced at you.

“Walkers.” You more mouthed the words than actually spoke and his gaze dropped to your lips.

You felt incredibly stupid and thrown off when you felt a heat rising to your cheeks at the action. You knew he was simply trying to read you lips and not looking at you for any other reason but your brain apparently decided today that you enjoyed the idea of him looking at you like that. 

It was probably the worst possible moment to be hit with the fact that you wanted him to think about you in that way, your entire body freezing up when you pieced together why exactly you yearned for his approval. It certainly wasnt fatherly at all because you apparently had a crush on Daryl Dixon.

“What the hell are you doing?” His raspy voice hissing at you defiantelty wasnt helping you in your moment of understanding but your eyes widened realizing he had been trying to tell you something while you were frozen. “C’mon girl, move.”

You were quick to nod your head to show him you processed the demand and then he was gone, turning the corner and pushing his way into the building. He must have had a good idea of how many walkers were inside and you werent sure if that was something he had figured out silently or if that was another piece of dialogue you had msised in your dilemma.

He didnt seem at all bothered while taking the three still up and walking around out and you watched him silently, not daring to get in the way when he was swinging his crossbow around and taking off heads. He was still breathing heavily when he turned to check on your whereabouts and this time you could see some anger beneath the exhaustion. 

The flush still on your cheeks was now being partnered with a heat in your gut and you realized just how fucked you actually were.

When had this happened and why did it take you so long to realize what this actually was? How did you manage to delude yourself into thinking it was normal that you were hanging off his every word and going over your small interactions dozens of times.

You’d even thrown on this hideously colored shirt thinking he might like it better than your normal wardrobe and you’d actually been upset when he hadn’t glanced twice at it earlier.

He was furrowing his eyebrows and you assumed he was half a second before asking you what the hell you were staring at but he didnt get a chance considering his eyes were darting over your shoulder with a look of panic that let you know exactly what he saw.

You didn’t even hear the growl of the walker behind you before you were gripping the handle of your knife and attempting to spin around but it was already too late and it was taking you to the ground so hard your head smacked against the old wood and your knife was being thrown somewhere too far for you to reach.

“Daryl.” Your voice was a high pitched screech as you desperately shot one hand out to attempt to grip anything that would allow you to kill the raging walker while your other one was pressed tightly around its shoulder to try and keep its clamping jaw away from your face.

It was so close you could hear the moisture in its mouth and feel its breath on your cheek, a whimper leaving you as you felt its hands on your body trying to find any soft bit of flesh to grip its claw into. 

The walker was falling limb ontop of you and although only a few seconds had passed since youd fallen, it felt like an hour of struggling with its strength and your entire life flashing before your eyes. You’d been in close call situations before but never something like this and you knew you would’ve been dead if Daryl hadn’t been here or even in the same room.

You were breathing heavily and shame hit you at the same time a heavy sob did, fully processing what almost just happened because you hadnt been paying attention to your surroundings. 

“Fuck.” Your voice was pained with a groan as you tried to life the waker off of you but it was large in size, possibly taller than Daryl and without a doubt heavier. It was lifted off of you as soon as you started to struggle and you were only half surprised to see his face looking down at you as he easily removed it.

For once he didn’t look cold or emotionless as he looked at you, a similar panic on his face as he crouched down beside you and scanned over your neck and face for any sign of a bite. 

You were about to reassure him that you hadn’t been bit but he was cutting you off by pushing your shirt halfway up your stomach, revealing so much bare skin that you felt almost shy even though you knew he was just checking you for scratches once he realized where the walker had its hands.

He didn’t dare touch your exposed stomach but his gaze was heated as he looked around your heaving ribs, pausing when he saw small pink marks on your waist.

“It’s okay right?” You sounded panicked as you sat up slightly to inspect it with him, your hand smoothing over the discoloration and feeling only a bit relieved when you didnt feel any signs of it being indented. “He just grabbed me tightly but he didn’t scratch.”

“Let’s go.” His voice was low and cold and he was standing halfway before gripping your forearm and tugging you up with him, starting to drag you towards the door.

You were frowning and shaking your head, looking back at your abandoned knife on the floor and placing a hand on the doorframe to stop him from pulling you. You knew he still easily could have removed you if he wanted but you both understood there was no way to get back on a motorcycle with an unwillingly particpant. 

It wasn’t as simple as throwing you in a car and shutting the door and your other hand came up to grab his wrist.

“We can’t leave.” Your voice was more pleading than argumentative, wanting him to see you were still willing and eager to follow his directions if it meant staying. “We haven’t even looked around yet. Theyre counting on us.”

“Nah. I’ll circle back tomorrow with Maggie.” He was steely in his answer and didn’t even seem to process what you were trying to tell him. He had clearly made up his mind and your eyes were desperate as you stared at him.

“I’m sorry for not paying attention.” It was your second time apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault and this seem to strike a particular nerve with him because he was fully turning towards you and letting go of your arm so he could point at you angrily. 

“You almost died, we’re leaving.” He was making a move for the door again and a wave of panic went through you, halfway thinking he might leave you there if you didn’t join him. He was leaving no room for argument and the look he gave you when you grabbed his shoulder made ice shoot through your veins.

He didn’t seem to understand why you couldn’t bare just leaving and going back to the prison empty handed. Did he not realize that there was nothing you feared more than disappointing your group members, not even a walker practically breathing down your throat could rattle you the way that could. 

His shoulders lost some of the tension when he saw the look on your face and you suddenly wanted to shout at him and ask him what his problem was, demand he tell you why he had been so endlessly cruel to you for so long. 

But now you were wondering if he actually had been or if you were simply throwing an internal fit because he didn’t give you an overt amount of attention, doubting your own reality now that you had fully accepted that you might have a stupid crush on the older man.

You had fresh tears joining your dried streaks now, cutting through the dirt on your face almost comically and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you right now or atleast make you stop crying.

Finally he was sighing and nodding his head so quick you almost missed it, pushing past you so he could venture further into the shop and silently let you know that you were getting what you wanted and continuing the run.

You made sure to push down any thoughts of him for the rest of the trip so you could focus on getting what you needed without endangering yourself again and you actually managed to get quite a big chunk of the stuff on the necessity list, even grabbing some extra fun things for Carl and a top you thought Beth might like. 

An hour or so had passed when Daryl made his way back to you and you could feel him watching you as you rifled through the clothing rack, not turning to face him and instead letting him approach you for once. 

“Suits you.” His light tone shocked you enough that you let go of the pink sleeve you were inspecting on the hanger. You had expected him to make a snide comment about you wasting time looking at clothes instead of finding something useful but apparently he had run out of the energy to argue with you.

“Because its childish?” You had humor in your voice with your response but it wasnt genuine, more so trying to deliver the punch line before he could. 

“Nah, just suits you.” He didn’t play into your accidental bait and you narrowed your eyes at him before sighing and pulling the pink sweater off the rack, dusting it off before dragging it over your head and the brown shirt you were wearing.

You figured you looked a bit puffy with the double layering and it was far too hot for the thick fabric but you held your hands out like you were presenting the outfit to him and although he didnt laugh, you thought you heard him lightly scoff at your display.

 

You finished stuffing your gifts for the others into your already full bag before joining him as he moved further into the large building, side by side as you followed the range of his flashlight with your eyes. 

“Why’re you wearing that shit anways?” He surpised you by still trying to make conversation and you starting to wonder if he had been the one to hit his head earlier, glancing at him just to find he was already watching you from the corner of his eye.

At first you thought he meant the sweater but you realized he meant your original outfit, heat once again rising to your cheeks when you pieced together that he had actually noticed your change in color scheme. 

You weren’t exactly sure how to explain that you had done it to appear more mature for him without making a complete fool of yourself so you opted for shrugging your shoulders and remaining silent, letting him figure it out for himself like you so often had to.

“Someone say something to you?” He paused in his stride and you turned back to look at him in confusion, furthering when you saw the twitch in his jaw and that same cold look in his eyes. This time it didn’t seem directed at you but that didn’t help you figure out the situation in the slightest. 

“Like what?” Your voice was still soft and almost a whisper, like you were guiding to him towards actually giving you an answer to something for once. Your head slightly titled and the movement made him take another step back for some reason, almost like he was afraid of you. “Like how I dress like a toddler? Or maybe something about being a walking signal for walkers?”

It almost took him a few seconds into your sentences to realize you were repeating back to him things he had said before, quick comments made in fits of anger that he clearly hadn’t thought you’d take to heart let alone remember word for word. You scoffed at his taken back reaction and nodded your head bitterly, tightening your grip on your backpack strap and moving towards the exit.

If he was bothered by you leaving him behind in the dark building then he didn’t show it on his face but you felt regret for doing it as soon as you were outside by yourself, standing next to his bike impatiently and waiting for him to join you. 

Thunder cracked in the distance as soon as his foot hit the dirt and both of you paused to look at eachother, dread growing in you knowing what he was thinking before he even had to say it.

You were groaning loudly and lugging your stuff back inside, bumping his shoulder on your way in. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to ride home that long with a storm coming so you had no choice but to spend the night in the same building you had nearly died in a few hours prior with a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

He was outside for atleast thirty minutes and you figured he was hiding his bike somewhere more secure or possibly checking the perimeter now that you were going to be letting your guards down a bit to get some rest.

You could hear rain drops hitting the windows before he came back inside and although they were light, you knew he must be getting damp out there. You sighed as you made your way to the clothing racks to find him something to dry to wear, telling yourself you were only doing the kind gesture because you were restless.

“Y/N?” His voice was loud and panicked when he closed the door behind him, not seeing you anywhere near the entrance and finding your bag left behind on the floor. “Damn it.”

Your eyes rolled when he initally called your name and you almost planned to ignore him but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be unnecessarily rude so you gathered the clothes and headed back towards the front.

His body relaxed slightly when he saw you coming out of the dark but he froze again when his gaze dropped down to the fabric in your hands, watching you as you got so close your boots touched before you were pushing it against his wet chest and raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll catch a cold playing in the rain like that.” You let your tone be slightly mocking but it was lighthearted enough that he wouldn’t bother taking offense at you making fun of him for staying outside. He mumbled a thank you but didn’t stop staring down at you.

You wondered if he was slightly flattered by you doing such a domestic act for him or if he didn’t care at all, deciding on the former so you could let yourself have atleast one small win after such a rough day. You cleared your throat before turning around and allowing him some privacy while changing. 

Picking up on him moving a few more feet away, you entire body was still flushing when you heard the telltale signs of him changing clothes. 

There was a large part of you that tried to squeeze your eyes closed and think of something totally unrelated but the smaller portion won by a landslide and you let yourself think about what he might look like without clothes on. 

You were no stranger to the sight of his arms, large and rippling with muscle everytime he drew his crossbow or swung his knife. You knew he was older and more mature than boys you had been with before the fall, most likely with hair trailing down his stomach where they had been smooth and rounder around the sections of his ribs.

Your fidgeting was extremely apparent to anybody in the room and you were unlucky enough that it was just the two of you.

In no time Daryl was mumbling that you were good to turn around and moving to start a small enough fire that it wouldn’t reach the high ceiling and could be ventilated through the broken windows. You ignored the sight of his messy and damp hair falling into his eyes and especially forgot about how much your chest heaved at the way he looked in the clothes you’d picked for him.

It wasn’t much different from what he would usually wear, you had made sure of that so he wouldn’t reject your gesture but you simply found it notable that it was something you had picked for him. 

A few more hours were passing of you sitting in silence and listening to the rain outside for any sign of it stopping, grateful when he finally sighed and pulled out the little food you had packed, seemingly accepting your fate of staying overnight. 

The sun had long set by the time he was clearing his throat like he was going to finally say something and your eyes met his across the fire, holding the gaze tightly so he didn’t change his mind.

“Sorry about before.” He shocked you even more with the words coming from his mouth and your eyebrows raised, your arms wrapped around your knees where you’d been resting your head before he spoke. 

You weren’t sure what exactly he was trying to apologize for, the list of possible offenses longer than you think he even realized. You imagined it was between trying to make you abandon the run and you bringing up what he had said about the way you dressed, maybe a mix of both so he could kill two awkward birds with one big hesitant stone like apology. 

“It’s all good.” You were shrugging and you wondered if he at all cared that you had lost your usual friendly tone in favor of mimicking his cold and emotionless one. “Kinda my fault anyways, always trying to get your attention.”

You don’t know why you said it and you were even more confused why you didn’t immediately want to take it back. Maybe saying it out loud could make you feel better but you imagined you’d be wishing you saved it for a kinder audience like Maggie and Beth whenever he responded to you. 

Braving a look in his direction, you softly laughed seeing the confusion on his face. He almost looked a bit hurt and guarded like he thought you might be making fun of him which you didn’t fully understand why he would go to that conclusion.

“You don’t have to pretend you didn’t notice Daryl.” You were smiling softly now and although you were mostly baiting him, the pink on your cheeks was still very much real.

Truthfully, you hadn’t assumed that he had caught onto your crush on him because you barely had until now and Daryl didn’t seem to be the type of man that went around guessing when people liked him. 

Infact he seemed the most thrown off guard you’d ever seen him when he realized what you were trying to say and the red on his cheeks was almost enough to rival yours. You coughed just to fill the silence when you accepted he wasn’t planning to respond to you and you tried to ignore the deafening sounds of his shifting in place. 

The two of you stayed silent until the fire started to die out and by then you were laying on your back, staring up on the ceiling and bringing you could feel to rain falling down on you. It was heavy by now and you figured the storm was directly above you at this point, almost thankful for the thunder and lightning as it masked the sounds of Daryl’s light breathing.

He was laying down too and despite him being on the other side of the fire, it still managed to feel strangely intimate. 

It was likely that he was closer lying in the cell next to yours on the nights he decided it was better than the perch but now there was no stone wall between you and you could see the outline of his face whenever you turned your head to see if he had fallen asleep yet. 

The darkness was making it hard to see from that distance but the light of the fire was just visible enough for you to catch the fact he was glancing over at you too and you quickly looked away. You were firm in your stare at the ceiling now and you hoped the feeling of his eyes on you still was just your imagination. 

“I like the pink.” His voice was breaking through the silence but not loud enough to be completely jarring, low and whispered like he didn’t want to disturb you with the confession. Maybe he didn’t want you to hear him at all. “Meant it, it suits you.”

“You don’t think I look ridiculous?” You were teasing him now and it was obvious, your voice light and gentle again. 

“Nah, never did. Just an asshole.” His flat voice made you snort a laugh and you could have sworn you heard him chuckling in return. You stayed quiet for a bit longer and tried to find a way to not place meaning behind what he was telling you. 

It could be as simple as him not wanting any bad blood between the two of you considering you had to live together for most likely the rest of your lives, regardless if that was days or years. Or maybe he had felt bad about hurting your feelings because Daryl certainly wasn’t cruel for no reason and you knew he had a better heart than most, even if it took seeing you reduced to tears to finally apologize.

“I almost died today.” Your voice was still soft but for different reasons now and you turned to look at him again, wincing when you noticed he’d gone rigid. He was resting his head on one of his arms and the other was palm down on his stomach, moving lightly with every breath he took. “After all this time I think I forgot that I could. Maybe it’s good to get a reminder.”

He didn’t say anything for a while again and you almost wanted to sigh even though you just knew it was in his nature to not speak much. You actually liked that about him on any other day, he was easy to read when he wanted to be and he wore his emotions on his sleeve if you paid enough attention which apparently you did. 

“Not gonna let that happen.” Sometimes he said things that made you wish he wouldn’t speak because you werent sure how you were supposed to take him saying something like that. You had practically spelled out the fact you liked him a few hours ago and now he was declaring to personally keep you alive. 

“You cant know that.” You had decided to sit up before you finished speaking, wanting to feel more in control of the conversation even if it meant being able to see him more clearly now that you could easily see him over the fire. 

“Be alot easier if you stayed at the damn prison.” He sounded annoyed again but you could tell it wasn’t actually directed at you in a meaningful way. 

“Is that why you keep telling Rick I shouldn’t go on runs?” You hadnt even realized you came to that conclusion until you were asking it and you suddenly felt very stupid for thinking that he had been doubting your survival skills all this time. Although it wasnt solely your fault because you wouldve agreed alot easier to stay back if you knew he was simply worried about you. “Why didnt you tell me that?”

He scoffed like your question was ridiculous and now it was your turn to be annoyed with him. You were standing from your spot on the floor and moving over to him, sitting beside where he was still laying flat. This was probably the closest youd ever been to him intentionally not to mention this most likely being your longest conversation to date but he was finally giving you some answers now. 

“Wouldn’t matter anyways now would it. Too damn stubborn.” He sounded completely bored by your conversation and your mouth dropped at him vaguely confirming that he had been trying to keep you back to protect you. 

“I thought you hated me.” You practically squeaked it out and suddenly he seemed alot more alert, turning his head to look at you fully and clearly trying not to pay attention to how close you were sitting. 

You were on your knees next to him and your hands slapped down onto your thighs dramatically with an almost manic laugh as your entire point of view shifted. 

“Why would I hate you?” He asked it like the thought genuinely hadnt crossed his mind and you could have screamed in frustration. 

“Then why-” You thought of all of his heated glances and the way he avoided touch from you specifically, teasing remarks about the smallest details of how you dressed and now the added fact that he hadn’t wanted you to face the dangers of going on runs especially ones he wasn’t going on. “Oh my god, you have a crush on me.”

You should have felt ridiculous for the way you were practically gleaming with realization as you pointed at him like you had cracked open a decade long cold case. He raised an eyebrow at you and your theatrics before he was scoffing and looking back up at the roof like the conversation wasn’t making his heart race. 

“Ain’t got a crush.” He felt almost shy saying the word and thankfully you were close enough to see the way his flush had returned tenfold and the fidgeting of his hands against the vest he’d thrown back over the shirt you picked for him.

“But you like me?” You were overdoing it now but you felt almost drunk with giddiness now that you knew he hadn’t been icing you out all along. Daryl was simply just shy and clearly terrible at showcasing when he had feelings for somebody but you almost couldn’t blame him considering you’d nearly died seconds after realizing it for yourself. “You think I’m totally cute.”

Now you were really pushing it and he brought his gaze back to you just to make sure you could see the exasperation in his expression although now you were so high on the accidental confession you were tricking yourself into thinking he looked fondly amused.

“I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, why didn’t you just-” You were just starting to question his lack of forwardness but you silently answered it for yourself before you even finished. “Oh.”

You’d somehow manage to forget that there was easily twenty years between you and Daryl, if not more than that (you didn’t think now was a good time to ask him exactly how old he was). He looked almost sheepish now that you seemed to recall this obvious fact and you could tell he had thought about it alot more than you had.

A quietness took over the room again and you halfway noted that it sounded like the rain had finally started to slow to a stop. You were shifting in place and adjusting yourself in a way that you could more comfortably lean forward to practically force him to look at you.

“I don’t think it matters.” You were whispering now like somebody was going to overhear you and now his glare actually had some real heat behind it.

“Like hell it don’t.” He sounded frustrated that you were even talking about it let alone attempting to pretend it wasn’t an issue.

Now you were truly curious how long he had been thinking about this and it suddenly made alot more sense to you why he constantly seemed to be avoiding you. Not out of anger towards you but possibly towards the fact there was no world in which he could be with you in that way.

“I wouldn’t tell anybody.” You immediately regretting saying it as soon as you saw the way he froze up, the words being whispered into the air painting a much different tone than you had originally intended. 

It made it sound like it was some dirty secret you would need to keep due to how wrong it was but you had meant it genuinely, wanting him to know you’d be okay with taking your time letting the others know until it was something even worth noting. 

Now you truly felt like you’d gone crazy because what were you even talking about here? Did he have real feelings for you or was it just basic lust for a younger girl wandering around in pink tanktops, did it even matter regardless considering how disgusted he seemed now?

He was sitting up with a grunt and rising to his feet, giving you one last glare before he was storming outside with a mumble about needing a smoke. You stayed there on the floor staring at where his body had just been and a wave of shame washed over you.

You tried to calm yourself by thinking that you could fix it once he came back inside and relaxed a little, giving you a second to explain what you meant and what you had been thinking. You didn’t want him to see you as some stupid little girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 

Daryl took this plan and crushed it considering he didn’t ever come back in and you laid there staring at the body of the walker who had almost killed you earlier, watching it until you managed to fade off into a nearly restless sleep while he sat outside and counted down the minutes until you could leave.

----

The next morning couldn’t have been more awkward if you tried.

You’d practically thrown yourself outside when you had waken up and didn’t see him still, stumbling onto the dirt with your eyes wide with panic. You looked towards the bush where his bike had been and felt your throat tighten at the realization he had actually left you there.

Then you heard shuffling behind you and whipped around to see him watching you from the treeline, half concerned and half blank like he couldn’t decide which side of him to show you now. 

Your half awake brain slowly remembered that he had moved his bike before the storm last night and you could tell by the line of something furry over his shoulder that he had been out hunting before you started to head home. 

You could guess by where the sun sat in the sky that he had actually let you sleep in a bit and suddenly you were itching to get back to the prison, hand to your forehead as you made your way back in silently to gather your stuff and head back out. 

You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so distressed over the thought of being left alone but you figured you were way past the point of return with the amount of humiliating things that had happened in the last 24 hours so it didn’t really matter. 

There was no overestimating how bad it felt to climb onto the back of his bike and wrap your arms around him for endless hours while also knowing he most likely wanted to be as far away from you as possible right now.

The sight of the prison would normally leave a slight distaste in your mouth but right now it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and it only got better when you saw a familiar head of blonde hair near the gates, clearly hearing the sounds of the bike and waiting for your arrival.

You felt a rush of emotion seeing your friend and you were rushing off the bike before he even had time to steady himself, meeting her halfway in a hug and trying to ignore how weird your reaction seemed to anybody else. You had only been gone a night but it felt like an entire year had passed in that building. 

She was quick to make small talk as you headed in together and you were grateful for the distraction, glancing behind your shoulder back at him only to look away quickly when you found him already looking. 

It wasn’t until you were hidden behind the walls of your cell that you let the frown take over your expression and Beth faltered in her ramblings, watching your shoulders slump as you threw your bag carelessly in the corner. 

“Oh honey. I know that expression.” You hadn’t even realized Maggie was standing in the entryway of your cell until you heard her warm voice full of concern and pity. Beth sent her a curious glance and she sighed softly. “She’s heartbroken.”

“You told him?” Beth gasped the words loudly and both you and Maggie rushed to shush her, your hands covering her mouth while her sister moved fully into the cell like the sheet covering the doorway behind her would at all mask the sound of your gossip.

“You knew?” You were already frustrated and it was obvious in your tone, looking between the two of them with an accusatory glare that they matched with confusion. “You both knew this entire time?”

“You didn’t?” Maggie seemed genuinely perplexed by what you were saying and you suddenly were hit with how crazy you must have sounded.

You had spend the better part of the last few months ranting to them about every little interaction with the man and it was apparently clear to everybody but yourself and Daryl that you had feelings for him. 

There was a brief silence before you were delving into what had happened and doing your best to not leave out any details so you could get their opinions and advice on where to go from here. Beth cringed when you got to the part about not telling anybody and Maggie rolled her eyes when you mentioned Daryl had slept outside to avoid having to talk to you again.

“Is it really that bad?” Beth seemed almost bashful to ask the question and you both knew what she was talking about. 

You weren’t really sure how to answer her because although young, you were still very much an adult and capable of making your own decisions but you also wouldn’t be able to fully blame somebody who found you and Daryl together to be distasteful. Beth was still a few years younger than you and you had a hard time picturing her with anybody that age when she was closer to you and Maggie’s maturity.

“You’re a grown woman Y/N.” Maggie seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as you had or maybe she just wanted to encourage her friend towards something she knew would make her happy. “Least he could do is talk to you.”

That seemed to light a new found fire in you and after a few more words of encouragement you were storming off to go and find Daryl.

It took a fair bit of time to track him down but eventually you were led back to the maintenance room in the newly cleared portion of the prison, heart beating faster as you walked through the dimly lit hallways. You felt relieved when you could hear his voice coming from one of the rooms but then annoyance surge through you again.

“I’m a grown ass woman.” You were sure you looked ridiculous as you pushed through the door and looked at him angrily, pointing a finger in his direction and feeling slightly smug when you saw how caught off guard he looked for once. 

Then his eyes were trailing behind you and for a second you were reminded of the way he had looked before the walker attacked, spinning around just to see Rick and Glenn staring at you like you had grown two heads. Theyd never seen you so amped up before and the latter looked like he almost wanted to laugh. 

You were sure Maggie had filled him in to some extent about your situation with Daryl and your neck felt hot with embarrassment, something that was happening far too often for your liking.

“Sorry.” You felt sheepish as you glanced at Rick who looked half disapproving and half amused. “Can I talk to Daryl?”

Now he had something else passing over his face but you weren’t really sure what to make of it, even more confused when they locked eyes over your shoulder before Rick was raising an eyebrow and giving a slow nod. He barely looked at you as they left and you couldn’t tell if that made you feel better or worse. 

You were turning back towards the source of your anger but now all of your fight had been lost and all you could do was sigh as you looked at him.

“Can you atleast talk to me?” You found yourself simply repeating exactly what Maggie had told you and you felt prematurely defeated when you saw the closed off look in his eye.

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” He was quick to dismiss you completely and you were thankful you were standing between him and the door because it looked like he was seconds from running away just to avoid you again. 

“There is Daryl and you know there is.” You didn’t care that you sounded desperate as you called his name and his eyes bore harder into yours when he heard it falling from your lips, only watching you as you took a few steps closer to him. “What’s so wrong about you liking me?”

He wasn’t going to say it, place a name to exactly what the problem would be because he knew you were already aware. You could tell he was growing frustrated that you kept pushing him about it especially when he clearly had done a good job at ignoring it although that included making you feel like shit.

“Liking eachother.” You changed your wording around to make sure you included yourself this time, wanting to remind him the feeling was mutual. 

You weren’t sure if it had the affect you wanted but you were taking a few more hesitant steps forward like you were approaching a wild animal, stopping when you were close enough to be able to put your hand on his chest.

It was the first time you were touching him like that without needing a real reason to and he seemed more affected than you’d seen him be yet, breath noticeably shorting as his eyes started to frantically dart around your face.

You wished so desperately you were able to read his mind and question what it was that was holding him back so much, especially when you were out of sight from everybody else and the judgement they possibly could cast onto you.

 

Apparently you weren’t subtle and the look Rick had given him earlier almost seemed like he had been as aware of your situation as Maggie was and there was no public outcry, no pulling you away and scolding you for having your hand on his chest and your eyes moving from his lips to his eyes. 

For a second it felt like the volume had been turned off in the room until he was finally moving his gaze down too and suddenly it all came rushing back, able to hear your own heartbeat mixing with his and the pace of his breathing slowing down. 

It wasn’t until he kissed you that the sound died out again, filled in by the rush in your heart and raindrops in the distance.

[starryal1na]

─ 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

genre: fluff, sfw

word count: 1.4k

characters: aventurine, sunday, boothill, mr reca, alhaitham, kaveh

notes: those headcanons are coming from my silly little mind so don't take them too seriously (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i tried to write them as canon as possible but it might come off as a bit ooc (especially mr reca since we still don't know much about him...) i personally had lots of fun writing for them since they are my favorites male characters from the games <333

Aventurine 𔘓

kisses you as if it were his last – an emotional kisser – needs to be complimented

If you're at the kissing stage with him, congratulations since he doesn't let just anyone in his life. Let alone sharing such an intimate act. Kissing Aventurine may come across as desperate, dare I say needy. It's a lot since he pours all of his emotions into each press of his lips on yours. You feel everything– his complete devotion to you, his fear of losing you, even his inner battles about whether keeping you in his life is a good idea. Even so, each of his kiss is meaningful. No matter how intense it gets, you cherish the way he allows himself to put his guards down with you.

Since he has low self-esteem, compliment him on how good his lips feel on yours. Whisper sweet words here and there between kisses until his features soften, easing all of his worries. Because he craves validation more than anything, your praise will have his heart melting in no time. Only then will he feel more confident, taking the lead and locking your lips in a passionate heated kiss. He will leave you panting and asking for more <3

Sunday 𔘓

kisses you with the greatest care – your lips are his hyperfixation (he will think about them all day long)

He is kinda shy, not daring initiate a kiss even though he dreams of kissing you over and over again. Ever since your first kiss, Sunday hasn't been able to get enough. He unapologetically stares at your lips when you talk, smile or even eat something, fantasizing about making them swollen from a make out session. All his thoughts shut down as soon as you indulge him, crashing your lips against his. It's like he is on cloud nine, the plush of your lips eager yet delicate.

His lips are soft, the softest you've ever felt. He isn’t particularly fond of tongue kissing so he prefers to give you soft, gentle pecks. However, if he feels confident he will deepen them, his body pressing closer to yours as muffled gasps of delight escapes his mouth. And when he kisses you, it’s as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. He is careful with the way he holds you, as if you might break if he dares to tighten his grip. Speaking of hands, he is always touching you. His personal favorite is keeping one hand on your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone while resting the other on your waist guiding you even closer to him <3

Boothill 𔘓

a biter – and a cheeky kisser – loves to cover your face in kisses only to smother your lips over and over again

He is all for heatedly making out with you. It doesn't matter if you're in public or not, he isn't unshamed at all if it means having his pretty lover panting in his robotic arms. He loves to tease you, especially with his sharp pointy teeth. Whenever you're sitting on his lap, breathlessly following the lead Boothill sets for your make out session, he grazes his sharpened teeth over your bottom lip at some point. It's just enough to hurt a little but he knows deep down you like it this way, so why not take advantage of it ?

Aside from the biting, Boothill also loves teasing you by purposely avoiding your lips. In those moments you wish you had the power to complain, but you're left speechless. He is surprisingly soft as he presses his lips against your forehead, eyelids, cheekbones and then all the way down to your chin and neck. He is taking his time with you, cherishing these quiet moments with you since being a Galaxy Ranger is far from being safe. It's when you're looking at him with eyes full of love, of belonging, that he locks your lips into a tender kiss. But, as cheeky as he is, he pulls away only to press another kiss on your lips, this time with more force. Then another, and another, until it turns into quick breath-stealing kisses. It’s endearing though, how utterly adorable he can be when it comes to you and the way he loves you <3

Mr Reca 𔘓

a perfomative kisser – needs the setting to be perfect in order to kiss you – makes comments about the kisses

As a film director, Reca is an expert at building up a romantic kissing moment— and that applies to his love life as well. Whenever he wants to kiss you, it has to be perfectly executed, to the point where he practically writes the script for your kisses beforehand. It might comes across as superficial, but that’s just how he operates. Otherwise he’d be disappointed in himself. The setting must be romantic enough, so he usually takes you to a breathtaking landscape, a luxurious restaurant or carefully arrange your shared space– dimly lit with candles, with soft, romantic music playing in the background. Every detail must align with his vision of the perfect moment.

Kissing him is perfect. As intented. You don't mind that it was planned since you acknowledge his need to be in control of it. He just wants to be good to you. Plus, he knows how to work you up. Tilting your chin up, he compliments you on how gorgeous you look before closing the gap between your lips. The warmth of his lips is so comforting to you, as is the way he holds you. You can't help but roll your eyes when you hear the enthusiastic "magnificient !" comment he manages to blurt out. The only response he gets is you deepening the kiss, determined to shut him up for good <3

Alhaitham 𔘓

lazy kisser – doesn't kiss a lot but when he does he blows your mind – leaves you breathless and acts like nothing happened

He barely takes the initiative himself, unless you’ve been making out for a long time. Alhaitham's lack of action doesn't come from not enjoying it— it's just that he doesn't really think about it. Most of the time, it's you who come to him asking for a kiss. He never denies you the pleasure of having your pretty lips on his but, like I said, you have to work for it. If you don’t, he simply stands there and give you a chaste kiss.

Other times it's just that Alhaitham likes to tease you, purposely reacting slowly until you grow impatient and take matters into your own hands. Alhaitham patiently waits, curious to see how far you want to go with him. You have piqued his interest and that's all you needed, biting then licking his bottom lip before deepening the kiss. Soon enough, he is the one taking control, moving your lips together as he pulls you on his lap and keeps you as close as possible to him. Because yeah, Alhaitham can be very clingy when he wants to. As soon as you're done, he goes right back to his reading, looking completely unaffected (he is not though, he is internally blushing) <3

Kaveh 𔘓

kisses a lot – steals kisses whenever he has the chance to – unapologetic about the amount of kisses he shares with you (he is just a sweetheart okay)

He is the one who, I believe, would kiss you the most out of the others. He takes initiative a lot. Whenever you cross paths, he stops you just to press his lips on yours. Doing the dishes ? A kiss. Doing errands ? He subtly pulls you into a corner to steal one. Getting ready for the day ? One, two, three...... ten kisses before he finally lets you leave the house. You're not complaining, not when it means seeing him all giddy and flustered afterward. And honestly, it’s not like it leaves you indifferent either. So really, it’s a win-win situation.

The roles are reversed when he is overworking himself on a project. Convincing him to take a well-deserved break is tough, but once he does he is rewarded with the softest kisses in the quiet of his study. He sighs contentedly at the mere brush of your lips, as if you’ve just given him the ability to function properly all over again. His work fades from his mind the moment you leave him with shiny, swollen red lips. And if you sneak into his study every now and then to steal more kisses while he works, he doesn’t complain in the least <3

/!\ don't steal, translate or repost this and claim it as you own /!\

[vampiremerlot]

˚₊‧꒰ა APHRODITE EYES — finnick odair

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. the first time you meet finnick odair, it is as the victor of the 68th hunger games, a child who no longer knows her place in the world.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. first meetings, district 2 victor!reader, canon-typical behavior, sfw, can be read as simply platonic, f!reader, victory tour post 68th hunger games, canon compliant but potentially ooc characters, — 4.0k words

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. hi! i'm new to writing for anything for thg so please be kind <3 finnick is my long time loverboy, but i've never properly written anything for him. btw this is part of a little series of one-shots that are all connected, feel free to check out the masterlist below!

𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 .˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊

The worst part of the Victory Tour — save for the ghosts of dead children looming over your shoulder, nesting in your mind at night — was how much time you had to spend with your mentors, Enobaria and Brutus.

The latter, though cold, mostly kept himself at a distance, all too eager to let Enobaria be in charge of your behavior.

Every word you spoke, she was breathing down your neck, a critique to match every small twitch of your muscles, even it was from nothing but the cool winter air creeping up your spine. If your smiles were anything less than genuine, she made a snide remark, pushing her pointed nails, sharp as her teeth, into your cheeks, fixing that right up. 

If there wasn’t such a sour taste in your mouth when you looked at her, one that burned as you swallowed, then, maybe, you could’ve convinced yourself that Enobaria really was looking out for you. After all, she’d helped you out plenty during the 68th Hunger Games, made sure that you’d gotten enough sponsors, that you’d put on a good show at the interviews. 

Her methods may have been less than kind, but so far, they’d kept you safe. 

Even if you’d let her down, let your District down, for not sharing the same sort of need to bring glory to the Capitol that your former victors had, she’d protected you. Enobaria had made sure you’d pretended, enough to convince the Capitol that you were thrilled with your victory.

But you weren’t. 

You weren’t naive, and you weren’t stupid enough to think Enobaria and Brutus actually liked you. But District pride ran deep, especially in Two. You may have been a less than adequate victor, an embarrassment of a Career, but you were their victor, nevertheless.

The train skidded to a stop, pulling into one of your last stops on the Victory Tour. District Four. 

Despite the small talk that had persisted, endless prattle from your escort, you’d spent the past few days with your eyes glued out the window, soaking up what little time you had to observe the scenery outside. Perhaps, this was the real victory — getting to see the wonders of a country you’d come to hate. 

It was a horrific realization, that Panem truly was beautiful, that every District had its charm. Even the ones with the flattest plains, with the people who had coal smudged across their faces, the ones with looming factories and child labor; they all had a spark of tenacity. 

Nature in the Districts was beautiful, and the spirit of the people in them, even more.

Quickly, you brushed those ideas away, feeling the sharp stab of Enobaria’s voice in your head. Even a thought like that was treasonous, and when paired with your deep hatred for President Snow, dangerous.

What could you get away with, now that every pair of eyes in Panem were on you? What games would you have to play now?

That line of questioning was quickly dissipated by your mentor, who pushed you forward, nudging you to the door of the train. 

“Stand up straighter,” Enobaria snapped, before your escort, with hair dyed a horrendous shade of purple, could say a word. 

For that, at least, you were grateful. You could handle being bossed around by Enobaria, but being told what to do by someone from the Capitol felt like just another stamp on your forehead, another reminder that they owned you. 

“We need to make a good impression in District Four,” your escort said, humming excitedly to herself. “Don’t disappoint us, dear.” 

Your face turned further into a scowl, hating that she lumped herself in with the rest of you. What had she done, but convince elite assholes to place bets on you murdering children? She may not have spilled a drop of blood, but more was on her hands than she realized.

As always, your other mentor, Brutus, said nothing — he’d hardly uttered a word to you since the end of the Games. The two of you may have been from the same district, but from the minute you’d volunteered, Brutus had held something against you. Like he’d seen right through you, garnered your true intentions. 

Enobaria might have been willing to overlook your short remarks about the Capitol, but Brutus couldn’t stand having a victor who hadn’t truly wanted to be a part of the Hunger Games. 

And while you hadn’t been the one to kill your district partner — it had been the other Careers, filthy backstabbers — you might as well have, with the way he glowered at you. Like you were a traitor.

Enobaria, as if sensing the turmoil, stepped between you, as the four of you got off the train in District Four. “You’ve done well so far,” she said, patting your shoulder. Though it was meant to be a reassuring gesture, it still came off as threatening. As if what she was really saying was, you’ve done well so far, don’t fuck it up now.

You didn’t need to be told. There had been enough riding on your shoulders to make you volunteer, and though you’d been certain you’d come out a martyr, murdered for all the hush-hush activities you’d been involved in back home, you’d, somehow, come out a victor. 

That was, likely, another reason for the coldness from your mentors. You’d played the part of a Career, completed the interviews flawlessly, earned the adoration from the Capitol in a way so few had before. Yet, the moment you’d stepped into the arena, you’d been just another child from the Districts, uncertain, disgusted, and unwilling to kill. 

You’d stood by your morals, but fear had a nasty way of controlling you in ways you didn’t expect. It was the crippling dread, the knowledge that death was permanent, that had kept you alive, in the end.

Not exactly the kind of proud victor they normally raised in District Two. 

Although you’d thought you’d done a good enough job at playing the Capitol’s game, the rest of your team already seemed to be suspicious of where your loyalties lied. You were certain that that was what had sent them even more into a frenzy when you’d been on the train to District Four — your escort fussing over your appearance, even when your dress didn’t have a wrinkle; Brutus’s eyes becoming even more narrow; Enobaria nitpicking every slight move you made. 

It could’ve been that. 

Or it could’ve been the fact that the last Career that had won had been from District Four, and it would be an embarrassment to look a mess next to Finnick Odair. 

He’d won three years ago — an expected victory, despite him only being fourteen. Finnick had gone into the Games, looking like the child he was, and left the arena, sprung into early adulthood, blood on his cheeks and a smile on his lips.

That had been the year you started to doubt the Games. Finnick was the same age as you, barely a teenager, and when he’d been triumphant, you’d looked around at your friends, wondering why anyone would want to kill one another.

If Finnick had felt the same way you did after winning, he gave no indication of it. Maybe he’d learned, as you had, to keep those thoughts locked up, only for yourself. 

But, unlike you, already scorned by President Snow himself, Finnick was adored in the Capitol. So much so that if you were a fool, you might have thought they accepted him as one of their own.

You sighed as Enobaria straightened your collar, adjusting how the top sat on your shoulders. 

It seemed to all lead back to Finnick, didn’t it? The way your life had spiraled. The Capitol’s increasing hunger for another Career win.

And here you were now, in his home, fussed over as your team grew desperate to show District Four that they had a victor just as charming, as lovable as their darling boy. 

“Remember what I said about the interviews?” Enobaria said, guiding you along the station. “That’s how I expect you to act here.”

Be charming, but with indifference. Make them think they can have you, but don’t give them too much. Keep an air of mystery. 

You refrained from rolling your eyes and swatting Enobaria’s hand away as she pulled your shoulders back roughly, getting rid of your slouch. As if your perfect posture could hold a candle to whatever performance — genuine or not — Finnick put on. 

It was a short walk from the train to the Justice Building, but it was plenty of time for your nerves to gather. 

You’d expected it would’ve been an easy feat, to slip on the mask that you’d gotten comfortable in, one that had now molded to your features. But the minute Finnick Odair turned and caught your eye, you’d already forgotten everything Enobaria had requested of you.

The District Four escort tittered about, greeting your own escort like they were old friends. They might have been — it wasn’t like you really paid attention to any of her endless chatter.

“Hello, Finnick,” your escort said, and you blinked away from the boy, back at her. The way she looked at him, like she could eat him alive, made your stomach turn. But Finnick soaked it up anyway, kissed the back of her hand, and she batted her lashes at him without shame. The corner of his eyes only creased when she giggled, fawning over him like she wasn’t a decade older than him.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Finnick said, winking. “I think you get prettier every year.” 

“Why, you flatter me.” She hid her sly smile behind a gloved hand, and gestured you forward. “I’d like you to meet my victor.” 

Your eyebrows pinched together, hating that she emphasized her possession of you. You were District Two’s victor. If you had any pride in your win — which you didn’t — it would’ve belonged to your home. 

Finnick’s eyes flashed, his gaze skimming over you quickly. “I’ve been dying to meet you. Congratulations on your victory,” he said, taking your hand in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm, as he’d done your escort. His fingertips were callused from fishing, but the rest of his hand was smooth from the salty water and the sandy beaches. “I didn’t know people from District Two could be so beautiful.” 

For a moment, stupidly, you faltered. No one had ever said something like that to you and looked like they’d meant it. 

Sure, it was a lapse in judgment, but briefly, every word left your mind, for possibly the first and hopefully the last time in your life. Where a smart quip was usually at the edge of your tongue, your head was empty and muddled, as you stared at the boy from the District Four, whose smile was brighter than the sun, eyes the color of the wild sea. 

The winters were long in District Two, the summer mild, and no one there had the kind of complexion Finnick did — a bronze glow to his wild hair, almost the color of his sun-kissed skin. There was a radiance about him, electrified by a halo of beauty, and you did feel dreadfully plain next to him. 

So much so that you were certain the compliment only came as a jab to Enobaria, and not a comment about your appearance at all. 

Enobaria coughed, and quickly, you recovered, snapping your hand back down to your side as you looked over Finnick’s shoulder, past his widening smile. 

“We are,” you said, stiffly, feeling ridiculous for letting yourself fall so deeply into his charming eyes. “But unlike other Districts, we tend to rely on more than just our looks to get by.” 

You hadn’t meant for it to come out so bitterly, but your words were the only layer of protection you had.

Briefly, Finnick’s smile flickered, and, as quickly as your frustration came, you began to feel bad for saying anything at all. 

But his gloominess evaporated quickly, and he waved a hand, dismissive, as he slung an arm over your shoulder good-naturedly, catching the eyes of a few people around you. 

Let them stare. You needed an endorsement from their golden boy, after all. 

“Ah, well,” Finnick said, pulling you into his side, talking like you were old friends. The two of you took a few steps forward, as he dragged you along. “Mags always did tell me to utilize my strengths. But, beauty can be a burden, as they say.”

You licked your lips, darting your eyes to the side, uncertain if you were supposed to read into that comment. Ever since the Games, you’d started to feel a bit paranoid, wondering if everyone was out to get you, make you say something you weren’t supposed to. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with that saying.”

“No?” Finnick asked, grinning brighter. It was blinding to look at, and he was far too close, the smell of the salty sea a constant presence on his skin. “Well, I only mean it’s hard to have women throwing themselves at you left and right.” 

You blinked, and whatever amicability had been between you quickly evaporated. Finnick seemed kind enough, but, as you’d said, you’d never been a fan of victors who cared more about their looks than anything else. 

Never once had you considered yourself ugly, but you’d known, the moment you’d raised your hand to volunteer, that you couldn’t rely on your appearance in the Capitol. It was so unlike the boy before you, whose confidence and beauty had carried him through, to the very end.

Feeling sour, a characteristic frown back on your face, you shook Finnick off. “I’m sure.” 

You wouldn’t know. No one had ever thrown themselves at you in your life. 

Finnick, despite the cold air growing between you, caught your gaze again. He squinted, searching for something in your features, but you only stared back, blankly. 

It must have been a shock to meet you — to find out you were a mere shadow of the girl from the television, the one that had scored so highly by the judges, who had bantered with the crowd at your interview, made a show of yourself for all of Panem.

You’d stopped believing everything you saw on your screens, but after a life spent in District Two, where Capitol loyalty ran deep, you weren’t fool enough to think that every victor shared your sentiments about rebellion. Brutus and Enobaria certainly didn’t. Perhaps Finnick was just the same as them.

The mood of your escort shifted, a nervous energy growing as she noted the eyes of citizens on you and the bubbling tension between you and Finnick. Quickly, she stepped between the two of you, a hand on Finnick’s lower back, one between your shoulder blades. 

“Well,” she said, sharply, scolding you. As if anything but a few words had left your mouth. She’d always thought you had a horrible disposition, even for a District Two girl. “We’ve got a schedule to stick we, don’t we Finnick?” 

The smile was back on his face, and you couldn’t be sure that it’d ever left at all. He nodded, and led you to the Justice Building, pointing out notable places in District Four.

Like that, your visit turned into just another stop on the Victory Tour. Another forced alliance between the host District and your own, as the people that lived there pretended they were thrilled to see you, instead of heartbroken that it hadn’t been their own child coming home. 

Despite their distance, their unwelcomeness, a part of you was excited to be in District Four, and you tried not to let it show on your face. You’d always been curious about the shorelines, ones you’d only ever caught glimpses of on television. The Capitol had never been too interested in revealing what the rest of you were missing, outside of your own Districts.

But, of course, you hadn’t had time to take a true detour down to the beach. Instead, you were ushered back into the Justice Building, your prep team needed to clean you up for your speeches and dinner. 

The spell, casted by Finnick’s charm, shared with his escort and your own, broke.

You were guided into a separate room by Finnick, the rest of your team sticking behind to talk with the mayor, discussing details of the feast that would take place in just a few hours. 

“They’ll wait out there for you,” Finnick explained, nodding towards the stage, just outside the window, one that was barely big enough to be considered that. The room, without any light overhead, was cloaked in shadows, dark and dreary from the lack of sun coming in. “I have to go soon, but I’ll be at the dinner, in case you need anything. I am the host victor, after all.”

You were certain there was more than just two victors in District Four, but you didn’t say anything. Maybe they’d sent only Finnick because he was the same age as you. Maybe they really did love their darling boy that much.

It wasn’t worth dwelling on.

“Okay,” you hummed in return. You’d carry on with or without him. 

Glumly, you stared out the window, feeling, vaguely, like you were trapped in a prison cell of your own making. 

How much easier everything would’ve been if they’d just let you die.

Finnick had opened his mouth, then shut it, debating if there was anything more to say before he made his departure. Then, he turned, footsteps fading. Before he could reach the door, they stopped. 

A pause suspended between you, one you refused to break. 

“You look too sad to be a victor,” Finnick suddenly said.

Although his words held a hint of amusement, when your eyes snapped back over to him, he wasn’t smiling at all. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, piecing together an expression that you thought would appease the knowingness in his eyes. Your lips pulled at the corners, eyes growing small as you squinted through a grin. The apples of your cheeks pushed your skin up, making your face look even wider. 

“You get to go back home. Your family is alive. You won. Don’t look so sad.” 

His accusation lit a fire in your chest, and you scowled, looking back out the window. “You don’t know anything.” 

“Don’t I?” Finnick’s words were hushed as he came to stand in front of you, pulling your attention away from the crowd of people that had begun to gather outside. Not a single one of them looked pleased — their faces illustrating exactly how you felt. “Look, I saw your games. You played the part well. I think—”

Then, panicked, you met his eyes once more, and clamped your hand over his mouth. Your heart thundered as you gazed around the room, wondering if there was anything in there they could use to listen in. Even if the room was mostly empty, you had no doubt that they’d find a way, that President Snow wouldn’t be afraid to warp Finnick’s words into you engaging in more rebellious conversation.

“I think you’re mistaken,” you said, sharply, before releasing your hand, slowly bringing it back down to your side. “I appreciate your concern, Finnick, but I don’t need your help.” 

He studied you, momentarily, reading the words you didn’t offer. 

“I see,” Finnick said, licking his lips, where the feeling of your hand still lingered. “Well, I’d offer it all the same. I’ve been in your shoes before. I’ve been doing this for three years.” He leaned forward, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears, his touch warm. “If you don’t want help, maybe I can be a friend in the Capitol next year. I assume you’ll be mentoring?”

You pinched your eyebrows, studying him. You’d gotten far too used to everyone having ulterior motives — how could you be sure that Finnick had none? 

Instead of saying anything, arguing with him at all, you nodded, ignoring the strand of hair he’d wrapped around his finger. Perhaps for the first time since the tour had started, you exhaled, releasing a pit of nausea from your gut.

“Friends?” you said, but your smile was stiff. “Does that mean next year, you’ll hold up your alliance with my District?”

The Careers in District Four had been the first to turn on the rest of you. What had been a steady alliance through the first half of the games quickly soured, in a second bloodbath that left only you and the District Four girl alive. 

How lucky the rest of the Districts must’ve felt, to see the Careers tear themselves apart from the inside out. 

Finnick cringed, but it was just a small moment, the muscles of his face twitching. Then, he shrugged, not even bothering to look sheepish. “I didn’t tell them to betray their allies. I them to do what it takes to stay alive,” he said grimly. “Looks like they didn’t take my advice.”

You licked your lips. An apology rested on your tongue, but for what? Those kids had almost killed you. Were you sorry for not lying down like a dog, letting one of them stick a trident through your throat?

“No,” you said, instead. “They didn’t.” Words that felt hollow to your own ears. 

Finnick noticed the shift in your demeanor, and reached back out to you again, letting his hand hover between the two of you. “Don’t take it personally.” 

“I’m not.” You scowled, stepping away. His hand fell back between you. “You’re not responsible for their choices. I just find you irritating.”

He laughed, loudly. A sound that seemed half-forced, to your own ears. “Well, you’re not too charming yourself. I certainly have trouble seeing how you got so many sponsors.”

“I’m a good actress,” you said, thinly. 

Finnick’s smile held, but it was tight, a little sad. “Well, you’ll need to get even better.” The words were flat, almost as if he felt sorry for you. Like he knew you had no idea what you’d gotten yourself into. “The Tour’s almost over, but that doesn’t mean anything. You won the Hunger Games. This is your life now.” 

“A life I should be proud of, should I not?” you said, sharply, narrowing your eyes. Suddenly, you felt as if you’d been stripped bare in front of him, your true opinions on the Games worn on your sleeves. Your treasonous ideals, held only in the back of your mind, yet seemingly written out on a manuscript that Snow would surely find. “I’ve brought glory to my District and the Capitol.”

What was it about you that made it so obvious, that had lured the Peacekeepers to you in the first place.

 What made you seem like you were a rebel?

Then, Finnick’s face did something it hadn’t before — he smiled, a real, genuine smile. His eyes held a brightness, like the sun reflecting off the endless ocean, crinkling at the corners.

 “Of course,” he grinned, knowingly. “I apologize for assuming anything. You must be exhausted from the Victory Tour.” And, as if noting your worry, he added. “I remember how I felt when I won. Probably very similar to you.” 

You held his gaze for a moment, watching the swirl of secrets swimming in his eyes. Then, you relented. 

“You’re right. I’m tired.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Forgive my rudeness earlier. It’s been quite the week.” 

“I bet.” Finnick nodded. “Well, you should get some rest, before you get to District Three. The people there are a lot smarter than I am. They might notice your exhaustion more quickly.” His eyes scanned you one last time, now more curious than appraising. “You are quite the Career, aren’t you?” Finnick laughed, mostly to himself, as he walked away. 

Quite the Career, you thought, even though you weren’t exactly sure you knew what he meant. 

[saintsroww]

TITLE. All I Have IN SHORT. clingy!jinx X reader "I Can't lose you too." | made with WLW in mind. CROSSOVER. Arcane: League of Legends X Cyberpunk 2077 WC. 1,555 CR. official art [ Arcane: League of Legends ] this is the outside of jinx's place that i tried my best to describe lmao TALKING. first ever fanfic. send any healthy criticism, i'd love that! at first it was ripperdoc!jinx but i had no idea where i was going with this tbh so i just went with clingy jinx lmao. and apparently jackie died differently in this teehee. might seem ooc, yikes. did I eat with this one yall? lmk :( PROJECT BEGUN. 11/30/2024 this took me awhile HAH! ACT. iii

Night City was bustling with people cheering and yelling, the disruptive revving of car engines speeding down the wide streets, the cool night air whispering past your skin, your hands comfortably resting in the pockets of your pants, your right hand holding onto your keys hidden inside the pocket, and your head slightly lowered as you stride past other people on the packed sidewalk. Your knuckles carry a faint throbbing ache that you're awfully familiar with. The night sky makes the ads displayed practically on every building look more vibrant than in the daytime. Your heart felt heavy, burdened by an overwhelming wave of sorrow and distress, while your composure dangled precariously, clinging on by the slightest thread.

You slip past multiple distracted spectators watching the race in Little China, occasionally bumping into others as you make your way through the other side of the crowd. Headlights whipping by, the smell of body sweat and alcohol invaded your nostrils. Your left-hand rises from your pocket to push a bystander to the side, finally making it out of the crowd to the other side, your main focus on reaching out to someone you held dear after a hot minute of your absence.

The street life drained you in ways you knew you'd be in if it meant you'd stay afloat in Night City. As the days went by including you sending little to no messages to Jinx, backstabbers were left sniffling the ground you walk after you're done with them, biz dealing with individuals where you can't always put your guard down, foolish gangoons pushing their luck with you. Being protective of what's rightfully yours, or taking from the more fortunate, getting to the top meant having every advantage you could get, and then you'll have a better chance to get far in this line of dangerous work.

After another minute of walking alone, the sounds of the people's voices faded as you made a right turn, chip bags, bottles, garbage bags, and papers lightly blown about, all this junk on the ground was a normal sighting in this inescapable city. As you walked further into a narrow alleyway, you stood in front of a gate that stopped you from moving forward, cyberpunk lighting coming from the street lamp behind it brought the otherwise dreary alleyway into.. something somewhat lively, and homey. You can give it that.

At the end of the alleyway were colorful chalk drawings of angry cartoonish monkeys and smack dab in the middle of the wall was a portrait of a little girl beautifully drawn by You and Jinx's hands on the brick wall. Pink wires as the background, and the two words "POW POW!" written above her head were drawn in a sprite shadow font. A soft smile touched your lips, the drawing carried a heavier purpose of memorabilia after little Isha's passing, and the relationship you three shared, you and Jinx cherished it. Pulling your right hand out from its pocket, multiple keys held together by a ring jingled from your hand movements, eyes scanning over all of them to land on a basic, silver key.

Holding it between your thumb and index finger, you insert the key into the slot and steadily turn it to unlock the gate. Shoving the keys back into your right pocket, you push it open with your forearm, stepping through the gate door, you close it behind you and quickly move toward the steps, the soles of your worn-out shoes softly thud against the concrete as you walk up the short set of stairs. You halt all your movement when you stand right in front of the entrance to Jinx's place. Rock music booming in the confines of the room's four walls was muffled by the metal door firmly standing in your way.

Letting out a barely audible breath, anticipating the argument you're going to walk yourself into. You swiftly repeat your actions by unlocking the door to her place. As you step through the threshold of the doorframe, slamming the door behind your back, your eyes are immediately met with a woman's slender figure in the middle of the room, aiming a gun your way that'd gradually lower to her left side as your recognizable appearance instantly brought her eyebrows to rest from its tight frown, her wide stare softened faintly. Her expression gradually faded into something resembling ease and a drip of irritation. The lightly worn-out leather chair behind her spun, showing the urgency and haste in her movement when met with anything that could quickly lead to life or death.

"Ah, Y/N." Drawing your name out with false unenthusiasm and unrestrained annoyance that had an underlying sense of harmlessness to it. "Popping in after ghosting me for three days?" Her voice was raspy, her upper lip subtly curling upwards. Violet-red eyes holding you in your place, her head tilting a little to the side, her jagged side bang obscuring her right eye, making her dark eyebags more notable because of the pink lighting in the room. She placed the gun in her left hand on the metal table beside her, turning down the rock music playing through the phone with the same hand without delay. Her hands clasped together behind her back as she sauntered over to you, stopping her movement when she was just a foot away from you, her head leaning in a tad bit, her right hand rising to roughly press her index finger against your chest.

"Why were you gone for so long? You know I don't like it when you're gone for that long." It was heavy, the unblinking stare and the want simmering in her heart urging her to close the gap between the both of you.

"Fixer hooked me up with a job that included insane amounts of eddies but- a lot went wrong. And I…" You held it together in the first half of your sentence but you couldn't hold it together forever. Every single second you were left alone with your thoughts the morning after the job was finished, losing Jackie that night, the man who earnestly stood by you since you started doing biz, a man you trusted, the gunfight following as soon as the brief, intense, and loud burst of noise of a pistol going off, the bullet hole left in his forehead, blood seeping from it. He was gone, in such a short time-frame. You'd spent time outside of work with him, fought together, and saved each other from sticky situations- This loss on top of Isha's was a pierce to your solid heart harder than you prepared for.

Just speaking on anything relating to losing someone important to you, first Isha, now Jackie.. You had to see Jinx, after going through that, you couldn't sit alone in your apartment that felt so void without anyone occupying it other than you, and being alone with your thoughts wasn't ideal. "Ahh… I just can't lose you too, Jinx. I'd rather it'd be me in harm's way, y'know?" Your eyes heat up. Darting, staring anywhere but at the woman standing right in front of you. Your bottom lip curls in for your upper teeth to bite down on it for a moment. Tears threaten to spill out.

She's all you have left.

A palm, warm to the touch, cups one side of your face, tenderly ushering you to look at her, tugging you out of the deep pit that is the fear consuming you. Her eyes meet yours head-on, a weak, close-lipped smile adorning her lips, her bottom lip vaguely trembling, her face expressing the same pain you held, understanding well how you feel at this very moment. Her thumb moves in smooth, circular motions upon your cheekbone. You gently grasp Jinx's upper arm, the arm using the same hand that tenderly strokes your cheek.

Neither of you could stall it any longer; both of you sought solace in the only person left willing to offer an hour of reprieve: each other. It was Jinx who moved first, ending the last shred of space left between you two to wrap her arms around you into a hug. Her nails digging into the back part of your shirt, Jinx's nostrils flare when she deeply inhales the scent of your vanilla fragrance with a hint of sweat, nestling her face further into your neck. "Just… Don't do that again, Y/N…" She spoke in a hushed tone, her lips slightly parted as the tension in her body melted from the comfort of your body heat.

"It was like.. I had no one when you were gone. You didn't even send me a message."

You couldn't bring yourself to respond, skeptical that your voice would shatter if you were to utter another word again. Your arms are wounded around her waist leaving Jinx's mind empty of anything negative leaving only tranquility you unknowingly bring to her already deteriorating soul. Choosing to gently nod your head as an alternative, your right hand slithering up to lay upon the shaved side of Jinx's head, your other hand moving up to plant itself on the small of her back. "Ha… 'msorry." Your voice was feeble, your breath tickling Jinx's nape.

"Heh, deep down, you're still a softie." A full smile graced her lips, her hold on you unyielding.

[barleyo]

Raising the Bar.

Hiromi Higuruma X F! Reader X Toji Fushiguro

A/N: i've had this idea for a while so i hope it turned out well. not sure how i feel about it personally, especially since it's so ooc

Tags: infidelity, cheating, divorce, ooc, infidelity, pwp, cunnilingus, p in v, creampie, baby-trapping, hate sex, no threesome sadly

Wordcount: 2.7k

High school sweethearts never made it in the long run. Everybody had told you that what you and Toji had would burn out, but God, you didn't want to believe them. Maybe that's why you stuck by him, glued to his hip no matter what shit decisions he made or awful positions he had you in. Maybe that's why you found every excuse possible to defend him to your family. Hell, maybe that's why you had his kid. Just another thing to stick it to everyone who disapproved of your relationship.

Years passed, and every day you spent with him was spent like a game of cat and mouse. 

It started with the gambling. You knew about his high and fast lifestyle before you were stuck with him, but you never realized just how quickly a savings account could be drained. Filled, too, as there were good nights and bad nights, but that was not the point. You had never known a man who hated the flesh-scorching burning sensation of money in his pocket like Toji did. Shady casinos and the horse track were his safeholds. It wasn’t just gambling that he fell victim too, though. He was easily impressed with luxury, whether vehicle or clothing.

When you had first met, he took pride in showering you with expensive gifts and tokens, but the cost never really settled with you. It was nice, but the lingering question of where the money came from, and why it was being spent, stumped you. When he was just your boyfriend, it was well enough for you to keep your nose out of his finances.

You lived separately and had your own lives, to an extent. If he wanted to live up to his nostrils in debt and negative credit, that was far from you to speak against. You made the grave mistake of marrying him so many years ago, though. His debt was your debt. His mistakes were your mistakes. Your child, bless him, was just as much comprised of Fushiguro DNA as he was of your lineage. Despite sharing all of these responsibilities, you rarely had a say.

When Toji brought home his winnings, he was content and decent enough, as one would be. What worried you was when he lost. He was never angry at seeing your joint bank account drain, knowing he would eventually win again. He was insatiable, an unstoppable force that never found an immovable object to stall him. You begged him to cut it out, to work out his priorities, and he tried a few many times, but it was never quite up to your satisfaction.

The thing that had broken your trust in him, or what little of it you had left, was when you had tried to purchase graduation gifts for Megumi. Your card declining was something you were used to seeing while shopping. You had tried locking it, but somehow, that couldn’t stop Toji either. Normally, you would call your husband and squeeze an answer out of him, and the funds would be returned to the account after a few hours. That day, though, there was no answer when you dialed Toji’s number. A few seconds went by, accompanied by ringing, but his voicemail ultimately picked up.

It was a long time coming. You sped home and threw his clothes out onto the yard.

You felt crazy. No other wife had to do this, spare the ones on television, so why did you? Could you not have a stable marriage, with a man who, for the longest, you felt a semblance of love towards? Rather than that, could you not have a man who had it under control? One who could focus on more than one thing at a time? One who felt responsibility for something other than his own satisfaction? You wondered if you were justified in trying to get rid of him. You had been together so long, long enough to make restarting life seem pointless.

But then his car pulled into the driveway. His recently purchased car, looking nearly totaled. The car that was being financed through your shared account. The car that you had given up a year’s worth of nail and hair appointments for, so that he could afford it without dragging you both down into poverty.

You gave so much of yourself away for him. Your secrets, time, money, and career, all to stay home to raise his child that, thank God, turned out to be more like you than his father. You gave away your last name in place of his, robbing yourself of any identity, and for what? An irresponsible wretch of a man who knew only how to drink, gamble, and avoid sharing his feelings?

He was lazy, egotistical, and the biggest mistake of your life.

A friend had pointed you in the direction of a decent divorce lawyer. It killed you that it came to this point, but you refused to let yourself play the fool. You had seen how it tore your mother apart to stay with a man who she hadn't loved in a very long time. She stayed brave for you, because she realized her truth much too soon. Now was your chance, with an empty nest and few damns left to give. 

The firm was nice enough. Small, but clean. Well landscaped. Your friend broke a little more than even in her divorce, so obviously the attorneys were capable. Alimony wasn't what you were after, though. Just freedom.

You tried to look put together, if not for the sake of decency, then for the sake of your mental health. The process had not even begun, but you were already exhausted. You knew Toji was going to fight you on this, so preparing for the battle was crucial. You had to call in some backup. 

"Hiromi Higuruma, at your service. I hope you found the place without problem."

He seemed overworked, with light bags under his eyes and a stern disposition following him, but that hardly disguised the fact that he was undeniably attractive. It was simply the truth—the god honest truth—he was a good looking man. Not that you could dwell on that for long

You weren't single yet.

"Yes," you said, after an awakened moment of shifting on your heels, "easily. Thank you for consulting with me, I've heard good things about you."

"Glad to hear it. Follow me, if you would."

Your eyes scanned furiously to find something to focus on, but the ashen, beige walls leading to his office were bare. Not a hint of chaos followed him. There was a clean divide where the outside world started and ended, and outside of that was his territory. Everything in its place, everything with a place to stay. 

His desk was no different. The closest thing to disorganization was the cup of pens that sat on the tabletop, with the mess being in the pens not being color-coded. 

You took a seat across from him and held back the urge to wring out your hands. You instead gripped onto your slacks, pinching silk between your fingers. You wanted to be here, you wanted a chance, but all you could think of was failure. 

Failure to choose the right man, failure to shield your son from arguments and bitterness, failure to be the brave woman that your mother had to be. Failure to pursue happiness, when you knew you deserved it much earlier on.

Higuruma was polite enough to not point out your obvious nerves. Either that, or he had seen it dozens of times before. 

You suddenly felt very unsheltered at that thought. You weren't the first desperate, lost woman to seek his help. And with his looks, well—

"Would you tell me more about your situation?" he asked, voice firm but far from sharp. "Are you looking at a custody agreement with your husband, or splitting assets, perhaps?"

You shook your head, bringing yourself to the present reality. 

"No, our only son is long gone from home now, so custody isn't an issue. Honestly, neither are our assets. The house, the cars, they—" you picked at the skin around your nails, trying to physically peel the jitters out of your body, "—don't matter much to me. I'll take what I can get, but I just can't be with him anymore."

"And why not? Infidelity? Abuse?" He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped together and resting on his chest.

"Nothing like that," you said quickly, tongue rushing to force out defense. "Not at all. He's not the man I used to think he was, and I guess I just can't put up with him anymore. He's got a  spending problem. He's inconsistent. Irresponsible. I could go on."

He huffed in slight amusement, giving off his first impression of humanity and imperfection, with a nod. 

"Please do. I can only work with what you give me, Mrs. Fushiguro."

You cringed at the name, but held your tongue. Until legally free, Toji's last name was your burden to bear. 

"He's completely reckless. It's like I've never got a read on him, and when I do, he flies off my radar." You settled on staring at the window behind Higuruma's head to distract yourself. "He's never planned ahead a day in his life, he's just chancing it. It was fun, when we were young, but it got tiring. It used to excite me, but now it just..."

"Exhausts you."

"Right." You cleared your throat to continue. "I felt lucky, when I was young, to be with someone so free. Now, it's more like I've been trapped."

You had never had someone pay so much attention to you at one time. Given, it was the man's job, but it still felt nice. 

"At first, I thought I could handle it. Thought maybe he'd settle down once our son was born. But Toji doesn’t change. He never does. Every time I thought I had convinced him to get his act together, he’d do something stupid and drop the ball." You swallowed, trying to press down any emotion threatening to spill. "He’s not violent with me, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous in his own way."

"Financial instability," Higuruma murmured. "Debt?"

"Not always. I mean, not in a normal way, at least. He always finds a way to dig himself out, but only after making things worse for us first."

Higuruma finally reached for a pen, clicking it absentmindedly before jotting down a note. "Does he know about this meeting?"

"I'm sure he does, but not by my doing. He finds everything out, somehow." You let yourself crack a smile. "At this point, I'm not sure I would even tell him the color socks I'm wearing."

"Good. It's best to keep things to yourself at this point. Detach."

Your eyes darted up to meet Higuruma's dark, tired ones. You were surprised to see him grinning.

"So, dark grey, then?" His pen tapped the desk, motioning towards your shoes underneath it. 

Your feet shuffled a bit, since he was right. 

You were glad to find him. You had faith he would make this all work out. Complete faith.

"So y'leaving me for some prissy fuckin' suit?"

Toji couldn't let it go. He heard you call Higuruma one time. Once, and he latched onto it. He had been on it for days now, trying and failing to get you to change your mind. 

It wasn't the fact that you were leaving him that bothered him. Sure, he loved you. A good bit, actually, but if you were unhappy, he wouldn't stop you. However, the thought of another man taking you—what was his—was what bothered him. 

More than bothered. It enraged him. He accused you of cheating the whole time, but even he knew that wasn't true. He threatened to physically fight Higuruma, but you shut that down just as quickly as the cheating allegations. 

He was somewhat right, though. Of course, you hadn't been with Higuruma the entire time. That was factually impossible. You had gotten close to him, perhaps too close to be considered professional.

A few week of planning court dates and splitting assets had set 'Operation Dark Grey' into motion. Naturally, you both were spending more and more time together. It was inevitable.

One evening, late at his firm, you two happened to be going over documents together, and your hands met over the top of the desk. You tried to pull your hand away, but he wouldn't let you. He held it in his, tensely, as of you would evaporate in front of him if he let go. 

There was no magical confession of love, because that's not exactly what it was. You sought solace in him, in his body. You couldn't refuse him when he sank to his knees in front of you. You gave in when his head slotted between your thighs, when his tongue dipped into your folds. 

He made you feel so good, and more than that, he made you feel attractive. Like you would have a shot in the world after everything was said and done. Like you still had it.

You were weak, and you needed him. How could you turn him down when he had been so helpful and so, so sexy? 

Technically, on a small, fine-print detail, you had cheated on Toji, but he didn't need to know that. 

"No, Toji," you said sharply, pushing your hand against his chest, "I'm leaving you for my own sanity."

"Pfft, right. You think I'm not good enough for you anymore? Got a taste of some boring bastard and now you don't want me?"

God, he could be so childish. It used to be funny, how such a strong, solid man could get so fussy. Now, not so much.

"You haven't been good enough for me in a long time," you answered quickly, spitting out what hateful venom you could tolerate on your tongue, "and you know it."

You were lucky he wasn't one to get his feelings hurt, but that didn't mean he couldn't retaliate.

"Who's not enough, huh? I don't see you bitchin' at me now," Toji sneered, pulling one of your legs up. 

He held you in a pose so strong, so mean, that you barely had the strength to balance yourself. 

It had been months since you had last had sex with him. You forgot the feeling of being drunk on him. Too bad you always woke up feeling like shit after. 

"S—shut up," you spat back. You reached your hand backwards, blindly reaching for his shirt to hold onto. You wanted to say more, to rain hell on him, but he was punching all the air from your lungs. 

He pushed your hand off of his shirt collar, jeering at your flailing palm. He bucked forward and knocked you forward, face down into the couch cushions. He preferred this view, anyways, with your ass in the air and your protests muffled. If you stayed like this more often, he thought, your marriage would have lasted longer. 

Your legs kicked, saying what your mouth couldn't. You were cramping, being bent down so sharply, but the deepness of his strokes made it nearly worth it. 

Toji was a lot of things. 

A bastard, for one. Snarky. Untrustworthy. Irresponsible. 

But, God, he could fuck. Making love, meh. But fuck? Oh, he could do that and well. 

Your greedy cunt spasmed around Toji's cock, dripping onto the shag carpet beneath you. Your mind— a mess of frustration and need. 

You felt Toji slam his cock into you, rutting his head against your cervix's tip. He dug into you, burrowing himself deep enough to become uncomfortable, but necessary. 

"What are you—?"

"Quiet," he hissed, leaning down to your ear to place a nipping kiss. "Feel that? Feel—fuck—feel me throbbing for you?"

Your eyes widened in panic. No. He wouldn't do this to you. Not over something so stupid.

"Let's just try again, yeah? I'll make it work for us, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of you both," he said through clenched teeth, shooting every drop of cum he had saved up into you.

Another try. One more go around to get this right. You guessed you could stick around. 

Everyone deserves a second, or twelfth, chance, right?

[cybrasigilism]

All Mine (Player 333/Lee Myung-gi X Reader Drabble)

warning: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | possession kink | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinion on the character differs from your own

character: lee myung-gi (player 333)

A/N: been straight up desiring to write for this diva again, i got inspiration for this little drabble after listening to “ALL MINE” by brent faiyaz, hence the fic name. enjoy to all my fellow myung-gi fans!

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, readers discretion is advised

if anyone is into possessive, jealous sex, it’s myung-gi without a shadow of a doubt.

you’ve seen jealous before. you’ve been in your fair share of relationships with guys who felt as though they needed to stake a claim on you if someone even so much as looked in your direction, but with myung-gi it was on a different level entirely. when you first met, you didn’t clock him as the kind of guy who would be into that sort of thing. when all is said and done though, if he feels like he has to prove that you’re his— you will not be walking right for the next few days.

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

you can’t deny that it totally turned you on; the way he would become totally thankless with you. pushing you up against the wall, leaving marks and hickeys all up and down your neck, whispering in your ear how you’re his— you were certain you couldn’t get enough of him like this. he was so rough, yet so gentle at the same time. it was as though he was taking out his frustration and envy out onto you while still reminding you how much he loved you. you really couldn’t say you minded how tenacious he became when eating you out during these fits of jealousy, working wonders with that tongue of his as if in an attempt to raise the bar to an unreachable point for all other men. trust he will take moments in between to dish out possessive comments, only because he knows it gets you going that much more.

“no one else can eat you this good, isn’t that right?”

“fuck, this is all for me right? nobody else’ll ever get to know how good you taste”

you better believe he becomes totally controlling when you guys fuck, too. he’ll demand that you tell him who you ‘belong’ to as he thrusts in and out of your pussy. even through tears, he won’t cease until you’re screaming his name.

“do i need to remind you who this pussy belongs to?” “a-ah! fuck! it’s yours— oh shit, it’s all y-ours!”

he may seem much rougher than usual while he’s fucking you in this jealous rage, but it’s completely out of love. he just despises the idea of a guy thinking he could take you from him so easily, that’s all.

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thanks for putting up with my brief self indulgent post! i apologize if it’s ooc, i just got the idea and wanted to share it inbetween working through requests!

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my art is appreciated and requested! have a spectacular day/night lovelies!

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

you 🤝me for yan! neuvilette 🤗

Yandere! Neuvillette

(be warned, probably OOC. Brought up his dragon biology, but also probably wrong lol. Just your normal brainrot at 3am in the morning. NSFW ahead, a bit of noncon, with fem!reader)

Neuvi being all kind and partial at first to you, the same way he treated most of the people of Fontaine.

Neuvi hearing from the melusines that you brings them cute baked goods from your bakery.

Had a first taste of them when he caught you in the act of giving one to melusines by the opera house

Was pleasantly surprised by how good it tastes, wants to have more, ended up being a regular at your bakery.

Turns out you haven't done any legal papers for your bakery yet, so it's not open to the public.

Torn between helping you with legalities and having your baked goods shared with people, or not help you and horde your baked goods by himself for a little while longer.

Not until those baked goods became your attention.

Found himself always staring at you whenever you got out off your shop/home and buying ingredients.

The sun always shine bright yet the atmosphere cool whenever he's with you, but then it turns to a rain whenever he had to leave you.

Neuvi being jealous for the first time when you interacted a little bit too friendly to the shop owner you frequent.

Finding out the owner has been your friend for a very long time.

Yan! Neuvi being disgusted and at conflict with himself as he searches through that friend's file, finding out more about them, eyes sharpening as his information told him your friend has liked you for a long time.

His dragon instincts, once dormant, awoken, and it altered the chemistry inside of him.

Anxiety riddled the man as these complex emotions took hold of his throat, choking him from the overwhelming feelings he had for you.

It's not healthy, he's painfully aware of that.

But whenever he looked at you, he felt that it's so right to have you in his arms.

Emotions were never his strong suit. As the rain falls and the sky darkened, his cheeks pale and dry, he watches as you run away from the rain to the shade with your friend, a big smile and a chatter to your face.

He's scared for the first time as he approaches you one day, fully spent and bursting from the seams.

He ignored his feelings far too long to the point that it's overflowing, flooding his once sound mind and heart. Corrupting him with love.

Yan! Neuvi confessing to you, telling you he loved you dearly that it hurts.

Yan! Neuvi, scared of his own feelings, aware that it's not what love is supposed to look like, yet had the courage to confess still.

If reciprocated, the winds will stop howling as the storm subsided, but yan! Neuvi's love will choke you. His anxiousness of not always being with you, not knowing your every move, will strain the relationship more than help.

If not reciprocated... Fontaine will drown.

Yan! Neuvillette, months into the relationship, awoken his dragon instincts once dormant.

Became a bit more possessive, bit by bit, little by little it's not even noticable.

Scales decorates his cheeks, like a blue blush littered with freckles.

An itch by his tailbone, as if wanting to escape.

Yan! Neuvillette never noticed it, as he's too busy with you.

Not until his rut took ahold of him.

Yan! Neuvillette, eyes wide, hastily rescheduled trials to next week. As the first week of his rut will be the worst.

He wanted to seek you out so bad, breed you until you cry, to pump you full of his seed.

But he gritted his teeth and stayed inside his home.

The people were worried, and you were too. The melusines had a vague idea, but all they knew for sure is to never, ever let people panic and worry.

You on the other hand, foolishly took a hike to his home.

Bad mistake.

Even before you knocked, the doors opened, making you curiously enter the home and it closes behind you like a cliche horror movie.

A trail of blue light, and a peculiar scent drove you to a double door, making you gulp.

You knew from Furina that he became quite snappy days before this... Week long hideaway, so you didn't know what to expect.

But you didn't expect being under him, face down, ass up, with him behind you, pressing his hips against yours.

His body, fully slotted against your back, felt so hot. His face, close to your cheeks, breathed warm air as he covered your mouth.

"I'm sorry, my love. Bare with me. Your scent is driving me quite... Hah...."

A shaky voice, his hips bucking into yours against clothed parts, his hand clasping your mouth shut and the other teasingly playing with the band of your pants.

You asked him what's wrong.

"rut... It's been quite a while since I had this... But I swear I am no juvenile dragon desperately seeking release... Forgive me.... Hng..."

You knew he's a dragon, he said it before, but being on the blunt end of his rut of all things was scary, yet somehow exciting.

So you kept quiet as he continued to grind his hard on against your slowly getting wet core.

It felt good, the way his large body covered yours as he ground against you. Everytime you move, his legs will strongly keep you in place, making you helpless to his pleasures all the while he kept apologizing.

You decided to give him your consent, making him shiver.

"this... This is not just one of, my love. It will be for a week. A different race and specie as you may, but there's a possibility you will be..."

Yan! Neuvillette's hand snaked around your torso and his hot palm settling down on your abdomen, where your womb is, making you shiver.

You nodded, not knowing if you'll regret this once it actually happens.

Yan! Neuvillette, now with explicit consent, took off your clothes hastily and pressed down your face and body, front down on the bed, and took off his.

He positioned himself between you, and his long, slender fingers teased your core.

"Oh, love. Look at you, so wet for me... I'll be making sure to breed you successfully... You'll be mine, for eternity."

With that promise, he slowly enters a digit or two, loosening you up and making you moan to the bed. Gripping the sheets from the sparks eminating from your body.

God knows how bad yan! Neuvillette was holding himself back as he watched you squirm and pant, his cock straining against his underwear.

"Why wait... Ugh... You're so... Hng..."

A blabbering nonsense, this once so smart and righteous man fell from grace as he felt his tip against your folds slowly pushing in. Veins bulged against his arms as he gritted his teeth, jaw flexed.

Once he fully got enveloped by your warmth, he fully placed his weight down on your back, his lips finding a way to your neck and slowly kissed it as he waited for you to adjust to his size.

At first it was slow. Deliberate, sensual. Until it turned to a rhythm, then a desperate need to rut inside of you.

His teeth finding way to the base of your neck and biting it, marking you as his and making you scream.

Clenching around him, he held your hips as he rutted desperately inside of you, an insane need to breed you till you fall apart.

"My love, come on, I know you want to give it to me... Come undone, please."

His long, hard shaft slid in and out of you accompanied by an embarrassing cacophony of wetness and skin slapping. Hitting your most favorable spots that make you squirm and moan.

You saw stars as you gave in, the breath knocked out of you as he came inside also, making him gasp in pleasure.

Emptying inside of you but not pulling out, he gave small Eskimo kisses on your mark.

To hide from shame, he doesn't want to see your face as he continued to breed you in a prone bone position for the night.

He's aware, too aware that this is wrong.

But it felt too good to stop.

And he had your consent, so what's the hold up?

But be patient, let him come around to terms as he whispered sweet and dirty nothings in your ear, a desperation to impregnate you running through his blood due to his rut.

And maybe, by the third, fourth, or so on days on his rut, he'll be able to face you, and face the consequences of his actions.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

i don't know if you do platonic yanderes , but I want to request how platonic yandere gambit would be with a darling

BLACK SHEEP.

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Remy LeBeau x Mutant! Reader. (Platonic Fic)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

warnings ⸺ mdni! Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, scars, delusion, Angst, ¿OOC Gambit? Idk, fights, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

sinopsis ⸺ Marked by a past of solitude and betrayal, his affection for you is a poisonous blend of devotion and control, always teetering on the edge between tenderness and obsession. For Remy, you are everything, his only family, and losing you would mean his ruin... so he will do whatever it takes to keep you by his side, even if it means locking you in a cage made of his possessive love.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish is—Thank you for placing the order! I really appreciate your trust and enthusiasm. Your support means a lot to me, and I’m excited to work on it. If you have any specific ideas or details you'd like to include, please feel free to let me know.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... actually knew who you were before you even exchanged a glance. Charles Xavier, Beast, and Logan talked about you often, in conversations filled with worry and caution. Your destructive powers had isolated you, and it was a tragic accident that took your parents' lives while they tried to protect you from yourself. That story resonated with him. A broken soul, chained to a gift that society did not understand nor could accept. Remy was always drawn to broken things; they were like pieces of a puzzle he needed to complete. The first time he saw you, hidden among the bushes in the garden, covered in dirt and fear, his heart beat faster. He knew that the moment he reached you, he would never let you go.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... was not intimidated by the hurtful words you threw at him, desperate attempts to make him leave, to protect him from you and what you were capable of. “Don’t touch me!” you shouted, with tears that dared not fall from your eyes. But he did not move. Instead, he smiled softly, that mischievous, almost playful smile that hid a dark depth that few could see. “Cher, Gambit isn’t going anywhere. You don’t scare me. In fact, I think you and I are more alike than you think.” The words sounded soft, almost hypnotic, as if they were designed to disarm you. And, little by little, they began to work.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... slipped into your life without you realizing, appearing in the most mundane moments, when you tried to find a bit of peace in the chaos of your existence. At first, he did it subtly: he listened as you lamented about your family and your life before your mutation, his jacket over your shoulders when the cold hit you, or staying with you in that corner. He made sure you saw him as someone trustworthy, someone who wouldn’t back away out of fear. But always, in the background, there was something more. A glimmer in his eyes that told you his presence was not merely accidental, that he was watching.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... used his story to soften you, to connect with you on that deeper level that always seemed inaccessible. He knew you were broken inside, hurt by the loss of your parents and consumed by fear of your own power, so little by little, he began to open up. He told you how he too had been an outsider, an orphaned boy raised on the streets of New Orleans. How he had been rejected even by those who took him in, feared for his own gift, a gift he could not control either. “Tu sais, I wasn’t always like this, chérie,” he would say with a melancholic smile, as his fingers played with a deck of cards. “Everything i am now is because Gambit had to learn to survive. In this world, if you don’t have anyone, you are nothing.” And with every story he shared, you felt the wall you had built begin to crack. Remy, with his soft words and warm gaze, was slowly digging into that shell you had fought so hard to maintain.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... made you feel less alone, but never in the way you desired. He knew when you were about to break, and there he was, holding you before you could fall. “You can’t get rid of me so easily, chérie,” he whispered as his hands found yours, strong but gentle. He made you feel safe, but there was something suffocating about his constant presence, something you could not name.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... began to take up more space in your life, even in your most painful moments. When your nightmares woke you up at night, sweaty and echoing with the explosions that never stopped resonating in your mind, he was there. You didn’t ask how he knew you were awake, nor why he was always so close. But his touch, his soft words, wrapped around you until the terror dissipated, only for another kind of unease to grow in its place. “You’re never going to be alone again, Gambit promise you,” he said, almost like a vow.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... started to make you doubt everything. When you tried to pull away, when you wanted to put distance between your destructive powers and those around you, he whispered in your ear: “No one else is going to understand you like I do, chérie. No one else can bear what you carry inside.” His words sank into you like sweet poison, until the idea of being without him began to seem more terrifying than the idea of destroying everything around you. Who else could face your power? Who else would keep loving you after everything you had lost?

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... carefully decided who you could associate with, selecting only those he considered “safe.” He encouraged you to get close to Jubilee, with her sparkling and carefree energy, because he knew that she posed no threat to his control. “Elle est bonne pour ti, chérie. She has a good heart,” he would say when you saw her, and little by little you convinced yourself that he just wanted what was best for you. Ororo was also welcome in your little circle; her calm, motherly nature made him feel that she was not a dangerous influence. And of course, Rogue was always nearby, though you could never shake the feeling of tension between her and Remy. He justified her presence by saying they were old friends, but there was something in the way he looked at her when you were around that made Rogue keep her distance, while Morph, Bobby, and others like them were completely off-limits.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... whispered words of comfort in your ear when your darkest memories suffocated you. “It wasn’t your fault, chérie. Your parents didn’t know what they were doing, but I did. I would never leave you.” And though those words should have eased you, there was something in his tone that made you feel trapped, as if there were no escape from the invisible cage he was building around you.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... didn’t want you to associate with people who could “corrupt” your view of the world. Bobby tried to talk to you once, casually, while you were in the kitchen. His easy smile and relaxed nature made you laugh, something that didn’t happen often. But it wasn’t long before Remy noticed. “What was he doing with you, huh?” His tone was as smooth as a knife's edge, his eyes burning with something you hadn’t seen before. “I don’t like you getting close to him.” And though you knew that wasn’t true, you felt the coldness of his control wrap around you. The situation exploded when Remy and Bobby ended up in a violent fight, sharp words and barely veiled threats exchanged until Jean and Scott had to separate them. You, however, saw him as a friend, someone who could help you forget for a while how dangerous you were. But over time, even Bobby began to avoid you, and the few friendships you had dwindled down to those Remy approved of.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... enjoyed the simple things with you, those that seemed harmless on the surface. He liked to take you to shopping malls, where he could walk beside you and make sure you felt safe, but always under his watchful eye. “Choose whatever you want, ma belle. Whatever it is, it’s yours.” He let you pick out clothes, books, little decorations for your room. But even in those moments, there was an underlying control. The options he offered you were carefully selected; he made you feel you had freedom, but it was always within the limits he set.

Yandere Remy LeBeau who... loved to see you smile, and one of his favorite ways to achieve that was by playing board games with you. He was charming, relaxed, and playful during those moments. “Allez, chérie, you’re going to have to try harder if you want to beat me,” he challenged you while a carefree laugh filled the room. Those were the moments that made you doubt, that made you think that maybe Remy just wanted what was best for you, that his closeness was a good thing. When you laughed, when for a second you forgot your destructive powers, he looked at you with devotion. But behind those crimson eyes, there was an insatiable hunger, a need for control.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... took his time decorating your room, making sure everything was to your liking, but always with his touch. “It’s important that you feel comfortable, mon coeur,” he would say as he placed a soft lamp by your bed or adjusted the curtains so that the light came in just as you liked it. But even here, there was a shadow of possession. The things he chose for you always reflected his own taste, his vision of who you should be. It was not just your space; it was a reflection of his influence over you.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... could not stand the idea of anyone else entering your intimate life. The thought of you falling in love with someone else filled him with a silent fury. “If you ever find someone,” he said in one of those moments where he seemed casual, almost brotherly, “it has to be someone Gambit approve of. Someone who will take care of you like I would. Not just anyone can be with you, chérie.” And even though he said it with a smile, there was something in his tone that chilled you. You couldn’t imagine Remy sharing that control with anyone else.

Yandere Remy LeBeau who... as time passed, that possibility grew even more distant. The few attempts you made to get close to someone were sabotaged before they could blossom. Remy made sure that any connection broke before it could grow strong. He would tell you it was for your safety, that your power made you too dangerous to be with anyone. “They can’t handle what you are, mon amour. But I can. I always will.”

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... hated it when you rebelled against his control, when you tried to challenge him and do things your way. The arguments began with soft words and gentle warnings, but soon intensified when you refused to obey. One night, you tried to go out alone to practice your powers, tired of feeling constantly watched. But before you could get too far, Remy intercepted you. His hand gripped your arm tightly, his eyes shining with a mix of fear and rage. “You’re not going out alone, chérie, not like this.” His grip was rougher than you expected from him, and you tried to break free, but it was in vain. “You don’t understand how dangerous it is. I won’t let you take that risk, I can’t.” His words were severe, his tone more dominant than usual. But when he saw you trembling, when he saw the fear and frustration in your eyes, his hardness faded, replaced by a desperate plea.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... immediately apologized after those episodes of harsh control. He hugged you tightly, his trembling hands, as if he feared you might disappear at any moment. “I’m sorry, ma belle,” he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with remorse. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but I can’t lose you. Not after all we’ve been through. You’re all I have.” In those moments, when his hardness crumbled and only a broken man remained inside, vulnerable to the fear of losing the only person who meant something to him, it was hard for you to push him away. His need for you, that connection that made you feel like you were his anchor, enveloped you, confusing you. Was it love? Was it protection? Or something much darker?

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... never let conversations about other guys last long. If he saw you interested, he subtly changed the subject or found a way to make you feel guilty for even thinking of opening up to someone else. “Personne ne te comprendra jamais comme je le fais.” His words became more intense over time, more definitive. The world outside, he told you, was too cruel, too fragile for you. But he, he was your refuge, the only constant.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... felt deeply affected the first time you went on a mission with the X-Men. He knew this day would come, but he wasn’t ready for the unbearable anxiety that invaded him. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I can’t help but worry,” he had told you before you left, with a carefree tone that hid how much he hated the idea of you exposing yourself to any danger. But when you returned, injured, all trace of his usual charm disappeared. His gaze burned with a fury and desperation you hadn’t seen before. “Merde, chérie! What did they do to you? Who did this to you?” He enveloped you in his arms protectively, almost suffocating, as his fingers traced the cuts and bruises on your skin. You could feel the tension in his body, as if he were on the verge of exploding.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... went mad when he saw you hurt, his mind filled with images of what could have happened if you hadn’t returned. “Je ne veux pas te perdre,” he said in a hoarse voice, almost inaudible, as he held you tightly. “You are my family. You have no idea what I would do if something happened to you.” There was something dark and disturbing in his words, in the intensity with which he held you close, but you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his desperation. It was as if, in his twisted and possessive love, Remy was capable of doing anything to keep you safe.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... did not allow his possessiveness to ruin the moments of tranquility you shared. On quiet nights, when you lay in bed, emotionally exhausted, he was there, sitting in a nearby chair, watching you with that mix of devotion and control. “Dors bien, ma belle. I’ll be here to take care of you.” And though those words should have comforted you, sometimes you felt as if those invisible walls he had built around you closed in a little more each night.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... always found a way to soften his behavior after moments like those. He took you to quiet places, away from the tensions of the mutant world, to strolls through the mall or parks where there was no immediate danger. He loved to see you laugh, as if that could erase any trace of the darkness that lay between you. “Look, ma chérie, this is how it should always be, right? No worries, no fears.” And in those moments, when it seemed like it was just you and him, you could forget, at least for a while, how invasive his presence had become.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... never let you forget that, for him, you were family. He constantly reminded you how alone he had been before meeting you, how you had filled a void in his life that no one else could fill. “I don’t know what I would do without you, ma chérie. If you ever drift away from me, if I lose you...” He never finished the sentence, but the weight of those words needed no ending. It was a warning, a reminder that his love for you was so intense that any possibility of losing you pushed him to the brink of despair.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... had a special way of softening his manipulations, of making you feel that everything he did was out of love, for your well-being. After a fight, he would always come back with a repentant smile, hugging you and telling you he never meant to hurt you. “Je suis désolé,” he whispered, with a tenderness in his voice that left you speechless. “But, mon coeur, you don’t understand. Gambit can’t live without you. You are my family, the only thing I have.” And though you knew there was something unhealthy in all of this, his words pierced deep into your heart. You had lost so much, and while his love was suffocating, it was also the closest you had to feeling loved.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... looked at you as if you were a broken work of art, one he was determined to rebuild, but only in his image. And, in his mind, he did it out of love.

A/N ─── I love you, Remy, you're divine, I don't care what anyone says. Now, I adore Remy, he's charismatic and handsome, what more can I say? I love writing in French. Although I’ve had some less pleasant experiences with the language and culture, in Remy's case, French sounds almost like a caress. It's part of his essence!

He has that irresistible charm that makes him stand out, not just for his looks but for his heart full of complexities. Who wouldn’t fall in love with someone who, despite living in the shadows, always tries to bring light to others?

If you have any problems knowing the meaning of a phrase in French, tell me in the comments and I will be happy to answer you.

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

take a bath!

[pinkolve]

Temptation-A Kurapika Kurta Fic

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Summary: You share a hotel room with Kurapika and take it as your chance to try and seduce him.

Genre: Fluff, SMUTTT

CW: fem!reader, features aren’t really described, reader is a little thick, second person point of view, SMUT SMUT SMUT, creamp!e, unprotected seggs, first time for both Kurapika and reader, shy Kurapika because that man is NOT a dom, hate all the fics that make him all cocky and dominant, he’s a nerdy virgin, that being said possible ooc Kurapika

Word Count: 2.5k

A\N: Kurapika smut because I need him biblically!!! The amount of fics for him on this app is not NEARLY enough. I’m still not great at writing smut, but I think it came out pretty good!!!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You were staying in a hotel room with Kurapika, only one room available. It had one bed so you were forced to share, but that worked perfectly for your plan. You’ve wanted him since the day you met him, though you never liked to admit it at first. You pushed the feelings down, having too much to help him with.

But the more you were around him, the more you couldn’t hold yourself back. Tonight you were determined to find out whether or not he wanted you too. You look over your features once more, taking out your ponytail. Your hair cascades down your shoulders, the visual feeling so unusual. You rarely ever wear your hair down.

You push open the door to the bathroom, finding Kurapika already in the bed. He held a book near his face, getting lost in the words. You sighed when he didn’t look up, too engrossed in the story. You walked to your side of the bed and placed your old clothes on the floor. Kurapika finished his chapter, looking up just as you stood back to your full height.

His eyes are wide as his gaze rakes down your figure. His mouth falls open the longer he looks, his eyes lingering on your thighs and your chest. You notice his staring, your cheeks growing hot.

“Kurapika.” You call out, making him look back up at your face. He shakes his head and any dirty thoughts away. He tries desperately to ignore the tightness in his sleep pants.

“Y-yes?” He asks, gulping loudly. There was a heavy lump in his throat and a fire burning up through his entire body.

“Are you…okay?” You avoid his eyes, worried you’ve made a horrible mistake. You’re afraid you’ve scared him off, made him uncomfortable, disgusted him. The second was true, only because the hardness of his length was growing painfully uncomfortable.

“Yes!” He answers far too quickly, pulling his eyes from you and placing his book on the end table. “Perfectly fine.” He lied horribly, his teeth gritting. He hated lying to you, but what else was he supposed to say? “I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my life.” “I haven’t felt this worked up since I was twelve, and found an inappropriate magazine in my friends room.” “I want to tear that tiny, godforsaken dress off of you and-“

“Alright…If you’re sure.” You whisper, rubbing your fingers across the lace at the bottom of your dress. “I can just sleep on the floor if you want.” The embarrassment starts to creep up on you, and all confidence flies away. You start to wonder why in god's name you thought this was a good idea.

“No, it’s quite alright.” He answers, swallowing again. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I already am.” You say without thinking, laughing a little. Kurapika looks at you again, his eyes falling and frown taking up his face.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to stare before.” You meet his eyes, seeing nothing but guilt.

“No! No, I’m not uncomfortable because of you! I just…I wore this on purpose and very quickly started to regret it, because I assumed it was making you uncomfortable.” You look away again, covering your chest with your arms.

“On purpose?” He asks softly.

“I was trying to…Seduce you, I guess.” You shut your eyes tight at the confession. Kurapika goes silent, just staring at you as he processes your words.

“You succeeded.” He whispers. You look back up at him quickly, the moonlight pouring through the window and dancing across his face.

“I did?” You ask. Kurapika nods slowly, trying to keep his eyes on your face. Your eyes are locked on each other, gaze unwavering. You nod to yourself, thinking about what you’re supposed to do next. “What do we do now?” Kurapika looks away again, cheeks turning pink at the thought.

“Whatever you want to do.” He responds simply. You nod again, trying to build your previous confidence back up. You slowly pull your arms away from yourself, and walk over to his side of the bed. He looks up at you, still seated on the mattress. You look down at him and carefully place each hand on either side of his face.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” You ask, stroking one of his cheeks with your thumb. He mindlessly nods at your question, waiting for you to lean down and connect your lips. You slowly lean in, still giving him the chance to pull away. He leans up too, pushing your lips to his. His eyes flutter closed in quiet bliss. You pull away, his face following yours. He wants you to keep kissing him forever, now that he’s had a taste he never wants to part from it.

“Again.” He begs, staring up at you with puppy eyes. You smile lightly and lean in again, touching your lips. Kurapika places his hands on your waist, pulling you closer so your lips push together more firmly. You start to move your mouth against his own and he’s quick to follow the action. He sighs happily when your tongue darts across his own. You start to kiss him faster, moving your lips against his at a more heated pace.

Kurapika pulls you onto the bed, making you straddle him. You pull away at the movement, a surprised squeak falling past your lips. You look at his face once you situate your position. His eyes are glowing that bright red, it almost looks pink.

“Kurapika.” You whisper, swiping your thumb right under his eye as you stare.

“What is it?” He asks, nerves building up.

“Your eyes are scarlet.” You smile, and it grows wider when he blushes at the realization.

“Oh.” Is all he responds with, trying to look away from your hungry gaze. You grab his face again, forcing him to look up at you.

“There have been so many times where I wished I could tell you how beautiful you are.” Kurapika doesn’t say a word, he simply connects your lips again. That same desperate pace continues, your lips and tongues pushing and pulling against each other with eagerness.

Kurapika’s hands trail down from your hips to squeeze your thighs. You softly whine at the feeling, making him do it again. He pushes his hands up and past the edge of your nightdress. He grabs the flesh of your upper thighs, groaning at the softness. He pulls away to take a much needed breath, feeling overwhelmed by your body.

“You feel so good…And you look so pretty.” He sighs, staring down at your large thighs caging in his own legs.

“Kurapika…Have you done any of this before?” You ask, watching his hands fondle you. His movements stop suddenly at your question.

“No.” He replies. He looks up at you, afraid that his answer will scare you off.

“Me neither.” You confess. His gaze softens, a small smile forming on his face. You smile back before leaning in to kiss him again. You feel confidence build up again, so you reach out. You push your hands under the bottom of his shirt, your cold hands making contact with his abdomen. He shivers at the touch, sparks shooting up from where you're touching him to the top of his head.

He pulls away to look down at your hands, whimpering softly at the sight.

“Mind if I take it off?” You ask, tilting your head and biting your bottom lip. Kurapika stares at you in awe, the sight of your moonlit face stunning him. He shakes his head, eyes never leaving yours. You smile shyly at his staring, pulling his long-sleeve shirt over his head. It’s your turn to stare now, eyeing his pale skin. You run your hands up and down the exposed area, reveling in the feeling of his warm skin.

All words have started to fail him, so Kurapika grips the end of your dress, making you look back at him. He lifts it up slightly in a silent question. Your turn? You smile and giggle at the look on his face, nodding a little and nudging his hands away. You pull the dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but a pair of small panties.

Kurapika’s gaze lingers on the exact spot you expected it to. His grip on your waist tightens the longer he stares, fighting the urge to reach up and grab your breasts. You shake your head to yourself, chuckling at his restraint. You grab his hands in your own and pull them up, placing them over your chest.

He stares at his hands as he starts to squeeze and squish your boobs. His thumb brushes over your nipple making you whine. He hears the sound and does it again, harsher this time. You whine louder, shutting your eyes.

Kurapika watches your face twist in pleasure, and he can’t help but want to see it more. He moves his fingers to gently pull on both your nipples, making you moan for the first time that night. You keep your eyes shut tight, head tilting back. You place your hands over his, begging him not to stop. He does it again, and again, until you’re a moaning mess.

On instinct, you roll your hips down in pleasure. Your eyes fly open at the feeling and the sound of Kurapika’s groan. Everything stops for a moment, both of you going still. Kurapika’s eyes are glowing again, so you take an educated guess.

You roll your hips down again, harder this time making you both moan.

“Do you…Want to?” You hope he understands exactly what you mean.

“Yes.” Kurapika answers quickly. You pull his hands away from your chest and reach down to tug at the hem of his pants. You glance up at him for confirmation, and he nods frantically. You pull his pants down, along with his underwear. He kicks both of them off the rest of the way.

You stare down at him, jaw slack. He’s so long and thick, you never expected him to be hiding something like this.

“Is something wrong?” He whispers. You look up quickly, shaking your head.

“No! Not at all, you’re just…” You look down again, trailing your hand down his thigh. “Really pretty.” He shudders at your touch. You look up at him with pleading eyes. “Can I…?” You trail off, reaching for him.

“Y-yeah.” He nods. You smile and grab him gently. His hisses at the feeling, already feeling overwhelmed. You run your thumb over his slit, dragging his pre-come down the rest of his length. You start stroking him slowly, twisting your hand a little when you reach the top before pulling back down again.

Kurapika becomes a whining mess in seconds, begging you to keep going.

“Please…Don’t stop.” He sighs, voice breaking. But you don’t abide by his wishes, stopping soon after. He looks at you with teary eyes.

“I don’t want you to finish before you’re inside me.” You answer simply, smirking at his shy face. You pull your underwear to the side, lining yourself up with his length. “Is this still okay?” You ask again.

“Yes, more than okay.” You both nod and you lower yourself down onto him. His head breaches your entrance making you whimper. Kurapika holds onto your waist, letting you do most of the work. You push yourself further down on his dick, taking nearly half of him. His grip tightens, leaving light imprints on your skin. He silently pleads with himself to not finish on the spot.

You close your eyes, trying to get used to his size. As your body starts to relax you push yourself all the way down, whimpering loudly. He’s fucking huge, you think to yourself.

You can feel his tip kissing your cervix, and you resist the urge to scream. You lift yourself up and then down, slowly. You roll your hips forward and back as you pull up. Kurapika forces back his groans and whines, swallowing them down.

Your pace stays constant, which was far too slow for Kurapika. You try to go faster but it makes your thighs cramp, Kurapika takes notice of your struggle. He tries to push his hips up to meet your movements, but it isn’t effective. He groans before sitting up and turning you both over.

Your back hits the mattress, making you squeal in surprise. Kurapika keeps himself buried inside of you, moving his hips in this new position. You bite your lips, holding back whines and moans.

“K-Kurapika!” You moan, dragging the word out as you practically scream.

“You f-feel so perfect.” He moans, touching his forehead to your own. He pushes your legs up against your stomach, shoving himself even further into your warm pussy.

“So do you.” You cry out, a tear trailing down your cheek. Kurapika drives his hips harder against you, his hips hitting your ass. You stop your moans long enough to beg him, “Let me see your eyes, please.” You grab his face in your hands, his eyes opening to meet yours. The deep scarlet glows bright, almost blinding.

“You look so beautiful.” He sighs, breathing heavy. “I’m not…I’m going to…” He cuts himself off with a dragged out whimper.

“Me too.” You stare in his eyes, feeling that familiar tension in your gut. Kurapika reaches down, fingers trailing over your slit. He pulls his fingers up until he feels your throbbing bud. He rubs fast circles around it, making you howl.

“Kurapika!” You scream, scratching down his back as you feel your body light on fire. All you can see is white as you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm wash over you entirely.

“Where…Where should I..?” He moans against your ear, delaying his release until you can answer.

“Inside,” is all you can say, your voice rough. Kurapika accepts your answer and bites your shoulder as he groans, filling you up completely. He whimpers and whines, coming down from his own high. You can feel his seed slowly leak out and fall down your thighs.

Kurapika steadies his breathing before speaking again. “I think I’m in love with you.” He smiles softly, listening to your giggle. He can’t help but think it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“I know I’m in love with you.” You sigh, looking at his scarlet eyes again. “And your gorgeous eyes.” You rub his cheeks with your thumbs, drowning in his loving gaze.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twelve of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K (I got really carried away)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ just in case. References to sex, Implied Sex, Heavy Making Out (not really explicit, but also not real un-detailed…), Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soft Soldier Boy, Angst, Fluff.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

A/N: The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

1984

You take a sip of wine, leaning over your coffee table to pull another photo from the Rosewood box perched on the edge. It's your birthday, your 65th birthday to be exact, of course one look in the mirror revealed that you barely looked over 30. To some women that might be a welcome thought, but given your current situation it wasn't.

It marked the fourth year since you told Ben that you were unhappy on Payback and as a supe, told him that you wanted a normal life, and four years after you'd let him talk you into staying. But this was the year. You were going to tell him that you were done, that you were moving on and getting out.

Unfortunately the only person you had to convince about letting go was yourself, because leaving meant giving up Ben. And you weren't sure that was something you could do.  You were having a hard time convincing your heart to let go of him or rather the old version of him, that only made it's appearance when it was the two of you. The memories that tied you to Ben were tight and difficult to unravel. You couldn't imagine your life without him, couldn’t see past this moment in your life.

But that's why you had to go. You knew you were in too deep. Fantasizing about a  relationship with someone who would never love you the same way you loved them, hoping in something that would never happen. And you needed to let him go, whether it be the new version of him or the boy you used to know, you needed to let Ben go.

The Rosewood box was filled with photos, old doodles, memories, and objects from your past. Usually it was stored under your bed, but tonight you had dragged it out into the living room to reminisce on your birthday. It was a tradition you started a few years ago as a way of remembering the past. Sometimes it was a welcome distraction from the way things were now and tonight you were letting it be a last supper of sorts, to indulge in the memories Ben and you had shared over the years before you told him that you were leaving.

You had no idea where you were going, but the thought excited you a little bit. Finally striking out on your own for the first time, doing something for yourself for once, it felt right.

Leaving Ben was the only thing that felt wrong. You wanted him to come with you, for him to choose you the way that you chose him that night, but you knew he wouldn't. He liked this life too much to let it go, he thrived in the spotlight, embraced everything about being a supe that you hated, and so you would let him go.

You look down at the strip of paper in your hand. It was a collection of photos from a photo booth, yellowed with age, but lined up one by one from the first baseball game Ben ever took you to, one of your favorite memories from your childhood. You were wearing the ridiculous pinstriped hat and Ben looked as handsome as he always did, smiling wide with his dark hair hanging in his face. It was hard to look at it now, hard to look at Ben and you when you were so young, and you didn't know where your lives were going to go.

Your eyes drift to the velvet case pressed into the corner of the wooden box. You had kept the ring that Howard got you, well, technically you had tried to give it back but he refused, begging you to reconsider.

Sometimes you thought about throwing it away. It was ugly, but it was a reminder. Not a reminder of Howard, you could barely remember what he looked like, but it was a reminder of the night Ben asked you to come with him. You could remember the earnest look in his eyes, how he cupped your face, and the promise he made to you. The future he promised had been filled with so much possibility, but you weren’t sure anymore. You think about the years you'd spent together and how leaving felt like the end of an era.

But it was necessary, breaking away from all of this would be good. Yes you would miss Ben, but you needed to move on. You knew that deep down. Because you wanted something more than all of this, and the night Ben asked you to come with him you thought he could give it to you, but after all these years you understood that he couldn’t and that he didn’t want to.

Someone knocks loudly on your door.

“One second.” You take the last sip of wine before standing and crossing the room to open the door. “Hey what are you doing here?”

Ben is standing in the hallway outside your apartment, looking handsome as always. He's wearing a tailored dark suit with a black tie, his hair is combed back from his face, dark stubble graces his rugged jaw and a wide smile pulls up at the ends of his lips that makes it very hard to focus on anything else. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart.” 

“I’ve had too many birthdays.” You laugh and wave a hand to brush it off. “What are you doing here, I thought you had an interview about the premiere tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night was the premiere of the third and final installment of Anti-Communist films that Ben was currently staring in. The first two had been utterly ridiculous and you knew that the one tomorrow would be just as pointless. Which you knew for a fact, because one day Ben asked you to meet him on set and you saw a scene he was filming, not to mention one time he tried to get you to run lines with him and you told him you'd rather drop dead than read Countess' lines, who took the co-star role when you refused. Ben’s offer of the co-starring role to you had been his way of appeasing you after you told him you were unhappy. When you refused, Countess had been more than willing to slide into it.  Who was still trying her upmost to get into Ben's pants, but he still completely ignored her, which gave you an unmeasurable amount of joy.

“I told them that I couldn’t miss my girl's birthday.” Ben smiles wider. “Plus I’d much rather spend tonight with you than those fucking vultures and I’ve never missed your birthday.”

Instead of the words "my girl" filling you with happiness as they had the first night Ben said it in the dancehall, they only make you frustrated. He had called you that several times over the years you'd been friends and each time it made you more and more angry. You were tired of it. Tired of Ben acting like Ben only when it was the two of you. Tired of Ben acting like he cared and like he wanted to be more than friends only to crush you the next day. Tired that he called you “my girl” and then did nothing that meant more than friends.  You loved him more than you’d loved anyone ever, took care of him, did everything you could for him, and each time when he didn’t acknowledge it, you felt like you weren’t enough. It made you feel like a kid again when you tried your upmost to please your mother only to have her be disappointed in you each time.

“That’s sweet.” Anger and frustration burns in the back of your throat, but you push it down with a tight lipped smile.

“And I got us reservations, so go get dressed.”

"What?"

"I got reservations. Come on." Ben makes a gesture with his hand.

“Oh I’m okay, I was just going to-“ You motion back at the bottle of wine, the couch, and the box of photos.

“No. I’m not going to let you sit here on your birthday. Come on. Let’s go.” Ben takes your arm and turns you around gently pushing you towards the small hallway that leads back to your bedroom with his hand on the small of your back.

You brace yourself for the warmth that follows with the brush of his fingers against you, but each time you're unprepared for how it makes you feel when he touches you.

“But I don’t have anything to wear! And if you do have a reservation, how much time do I have?” You argue, trying to come up with an excuse to avoid dinner.

As much as you wanted to go, you didn't want to sit there and pretend to be happy. You were tired of doing that, but then you raise your head to look Ben in the eye.

He's smiling down at you the same way he always has, looking like the boy who climbed in your window after flunking out of boarding school to bring you paint and your resolve wavers. You hated saying no to him.

Damn it.

“By the time you stop making excuses it will be time to go. And as sexy as those pajamas are, you can’t wear them to a restaurant.” Ben teases, tugging on the bottom oversized paint-splattered shirt you were wearing

“Fine.” You grumble, cheeks flushing bright red as you snatch the shirt from his hand. “Give me ten minutes.”

"Shut up." Ben laughs from across the table at you. "Your mother loved me!"

His laughter is contagious, making your own release from your lips and ease the tension you are holding in your chest.

The Italian restaurant is small and filled with the soft lit of music from the band in the corner, the rich aromatic smell of food, and has the calming atmosphere of a intimate bar. When Ben parked out front, you were surprised. He usually liked the restaurants on page 6 where other heroes would be found eating and places where he could be photographed for the news, but this place was different, it was almost, special. And the way Ben was acting was unusual.

He'd walked around the car after he parked and took your hand in his, to lead you down the steps to the front door where a hostess had asked for his name. Ben had used his real name rather than Soldier Boy for a reservation and when you walked out of your bedroom wearing the dress you found at the back of your closet that you had for emergencies, you swore you saw his eyes darken as they trailed across your body making your breath catch in your chest. It was odd. Ben had taken you out for your birthday before, but tonight seemed to be filled with a palpable tension and electricity that you couldn’t place.

Then again, you were probably imagining it like always.

The restaurant was perfect, it made you forget about being a supe and the glamorous lifestyle that Ben indulged in and allowed you to pretend that you were normal. However, while you sat there together, you tried not to think about what you were going to have to tell him eventually, that you were leaving. He would ask for an answer why and you’d try to tell him the same thing you told him four years ago while avoiding screaming “because I love you, you fucking idiot” at the top of your lungs. 

But it was difficult to find a way to tell him, not when he had a soft smile on his face and every few minutes Ben would find some reason to touch you. So you allowed yourself to indulge in this, to have this last wonderful memory together before you have to tell him. And in doing so, you let yourself forget being a supe, forget everything else but Ben and you in this moment.

"Oh sure, you were her favorite." You snort into your wineglass. "She put a crucifix up over my window to keep you out. Every time you went to a new boarding school, she prayed in the living room with a rosary to God begging him to keep you far from me and she cried whenever you came back. Not to mention when you got me thrown out of boarding school she forbade me from seeing you-"

"But you couldn’t stay away." Ben sing-songs with a grin before taking a sip from his glass. "And your roommate was a fucking snitch."

"She was." You smile down at the table. "I also think she was a little jealous." You lean back in your chair, holding the wineglass in your right hand.

"Oh and why is that?" Ben's smirk widens.

"Don't make me say it-" Your eyes roll.

"Oh I want to hear you admit it." He leans towards you across the table, eyes shining with a mischievous glint that makes it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Not going to happen.”  You look around the room to distract yourself with the other couples.

All the tables around you were full of people sharing stories, holding hands, brushing feet under the table and for the first time you weren't jealous of their love. The couple next to you was practically breathing the same air, leaning towards each other with sappy looks in their eyes. You were happy for them, allowed yourself to be filled with compassion at their happiness. You remember what you said to Ben four years ago, about wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you and then remember the night at the dancehall watching the elderly couple dance under the twinkling lights holding each other close and gazing deeply into one another's eyes.

You wanted someone to look at you like that, wanted someone to share you life with. You wanted that so badly, that in this moment you knew that you were making the right decision leaving because you would be closer to getting it, because the man across the table from you might be your best friend and have your heart, but he didn’t want to be more. And as much as it hurt to leave the only man you’d ever loved,  you knew it was the right thing.

Ben taps his index finger on your left hand where it rests on the table between you, drawing your eyes back to his. "Did I lose you Doll?"

"Hmm? No sorry. I was-" You smile at him. "Distracted. What were you asking?"

Ben's gaze shifts to the couple sitting to your right, the one you were watching a second ago, who are holding hands on top of the table. The man says something that makes his date laugh and lean towards him to grasp his other hand. The way he smiles at his date makes you smile. Ben's eyes slide back to yours and an odd look flashes through them that you can't identify.

"You know what I was asking." His index finger begins to brush over your knuckles in a smooth circular motion. Warmth trails with his touch, sending goosebumps dancing up your left arm.

Shock buzzes at the back of your mind, you didn't understand why he was doing that, Ben had barely had anything to drink tonight, in fact that was his first and only Whiskey. Not to mention when he showed up at your door he seemed more sober than usual. He didn't smell like reefer. So for him to touch you this much was unusual, especially when he wasn't drunk or high.

“Come on Sweetheart.” He smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Fine. Pearl thought you were devilishly handsome and was upset that I danced with you when I had Howard-"

"Don't mention that pussy." Ben’s smirk drops into a frown and he stops moving his finger against the back of your hand.

"I don't understand why you were so jealous of him." You try not to think about how much you wish he would start moving his finger again.

"I was not jealous of that idiot." Ben rolls his eyes.

"Uh-huh. After all these years, you still can't admit it." You tease him taking another sip of wine. It was giving you a pleasant buzz that made you feel just a little bit warm and bold enough to make you brush your thumb against his where his hand sits only a few millimeters from yours.

If he was touching you, you thought that maybe it would be okay for you to touch him, maybe it was okay to pretend that he wanted to hold your hand as much as you wanted to hold his, like the couple next to you were.

"I will if you admit you were jealous of Missy Callahan." Ben's eyes trail down to your thumb before looking back up at you, waiting for your answer.

"I was not-"

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can hear your heartbeat Doll.”

“Just as I can hear yours Darling.” You smile back at him.

“Y/n.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous smile. "Fine, I will admit that was a little jealous of her, but she was awful.  She was dumb as a rock and she was the most terrible gossip-"

"I knew it." Ben smirks.

You sit there in silence for a minute gazing at Ben, your eyebrow raised. "I'm waiting."

"Oh I'm not going to admit that I was jealous of Howard. I just wanted to hear you say the thing about Missy." Ben laughs, beginning to run his index finger against the back of your hand again. His eyes on yours, as if he's gauging your reaction.

"Bastard." You roll your eyes at him. "Did I tell you that I saw Howard?"

"What?" Ben looks surprised.

"Yeah, when I went to my brother's-" You clear your throat remembering when you saw Howard four years ago. You don’t know why he went to your brother’s funeral, but he was there, gray hair slicked back staring at you open mouthed. The last time you'd seen him was the day after he proposed, when you tried to give him back the ring and he refused, stating that he wanted you to keep it, to think about it. He never got over the break up, never dating anyone else, never married. It had been an awkward reunion, especially since he kept trying to corner you, but you evaded him expertly through the crowd. You weren't interested in making awkward small-talk about the past forty years.

Ben's hand finally slips into yours, intwining your fingers together because he understands what you’re about to say. "I'm sorry I didn't go with you, I should have."

It was weird that Ben wasn’t with you, but it was also weird because you tried to comfort your sister in law and her son and his family, but it felt forced. Ben was the only person who understood what it was like for everyone to age around you while you stayed the same. Standing there to celebrate the life of your brother while you, yourself couldn't die completely or even age felt awkward. You found yourself longing for Ben when you were away, wishing that he was there to hold your hand or try to deflect some of the awkward conversations, none of which were focused on your brother and were all about you being a supe. You hated how much you depended on him.

After the funeral you had stayed in Philadelphia an extra week to help your family and when Ben called to see how you were you broke down on the phone. Ben had showed up within the next hour at your hotel and sat with you while you cried. It was one of your favorite memories, because Ben held you gently against him, whispering "It's okay Sweetheart, I've got you" while you pressed your face into his shirt, letting the smell of whiskey and his cologne soak into your skin. It was so unlike him and it made you believe that Ben wanted more, but then he never acknowledged it, like always.

"Ben it's okay, you were there when it mattered. And you went to both of my parent's funerals. Surprising because my mother would have hated that you were there. Always said you were going to ruin my life." You meant for it to be a joke, but the look in Ben's eyes shifts to something more vulnerable for a millisecond before it hardens again.

"Did I?" He asks quietly. Ben looks down at where he was holding your hand, his thumb beginning to move over the smooth skin on the back.

The question catches you off guard. It was the very question that you had been considering the past few days before you finally decided to leave all of this and your best friend. But the truth was you didn't believe that Ben ruined your life, you blamed yourself, blamed yourself for loving your best friend, blamed yourself for loving someone who didn’t love you the same way.

And it wasn’t that you hated your life, it was different than what you would have planned for yourself, but you liked parts of it. Not to mention you would have hated it more if you had said no to Ben and married Howard. If anything, Ben had saved you and you were thankful for that.

Of course the way he's looking at you and holding your hand is making it difficult for you to consider leaving. It seemed like every time you tried, Ben would do something like this- take you out to dinner or act like he wanted you and only you, and then you would reconsider. Four years ago it had been him holding you after your brother’s funeral and now it was this.

"Ben." You sigh, squeezing his hand and putting as much love into your gaze as you can. "No. You didn't. If anything you freed me. I didn't want to be with Howard and I was too afraid to say it until you asked me to come with you.”

“He could have given you a life though. You said that’s what you wanted.” For a second you think you see Ben’s eyes flick to the couple on your right with his words.

Your mind stutters to a halt in surprise. He remembered what we talked about four years ago? After he almost killed Noir?

“Um-" You clear your throat to recover. "And if you remember that conversation, you should also remember I said I didn’t want that life with Howard.”

“Yes, but you said you wanted to marry someone.” The ends of his lip twitches, but he doesn’t smile. “Still waiting on that wedding invite.” His thumb is stroking long smooth patterns on the back of your hand, making your throat tight and making it impossible to think.

“I’m sure you’ll get it any day now. Legend is happy that I finally said yes.”

“I should have known. Y’all looked pretty cozy at that party two weeks ago.” Ben laughs. “So if you’re engaged to him, does that mean you don’t want your birthday present?”

“I’ve said it once and I’ve said it again, I’m too old for birthdays.”

“Then why did you come out with me?”

“Oh I’m just going to write this off as old friends having dinner. That or a kidnapping. You practically dragged me to the car.”

“Be thankful I let you change.” Ben replies.

“I don’t know, I think I would have really made a statement with my paint splattered shirt and sweatpants."

You’d chosen the dress you were wearing at random. It was a dark green, the same color as Ben’s supe suit, off your right shoulder cinched around your waist and fell elegantly to your ankles. It was one of your favorites, something you believed accentuated your body effortlessly.

"They were something. Though I think that you-" Ben pauses, dropping his eyes to where he's still holding your hand, before looking back up at you. "Um-"

"What?" You smile.

He clears his throat, a soft smile on his face. "I think you look beautiful now too."

Your next words dry up in your mouth, there's not a shred of joking or teasing in Ben's eyes. Ben had said it before, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but now there is only sincerity. And it makes your heart jolt out of rhythm.

He said too. That means that he thought I looked beautiful before when I was-

"Thank you." You flush red and squeeze his hand. "I don't think you look too bad yourself, you know, for a old man." You add that last part because you don’t know what to say when he's looking at you like that.

Ben's smile slips into a frown. "You should be nicer to me, I got you a birthday present."

“See, you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen it.”

“I thought you didn’t want it.” The mischievous glint is back in his eye.

“I could be persuaded.” You smirk.

Ben releases your hand and reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a long navy blue velvet box wrapped in a thick silver bow before sliding it across the white tablecloth.

“You get me another paintbrush?” You smirk running a fingertip over the velvet top to examine it while acutely missing the feeling of his hand grasped in yours.

“Something like that.”

“Did you steal it?” You pick up the box and wave it for emphasis, remembering all the times Ben stole little things from the stores that lined Downtown Philadelphia and the box he had hidden under his bed filled with random trinkets.

You never understood why he did that. Ben's family was almost as wealthy as yours and although his father didn't approve of anything Ben was doing, he never cut him off.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and leans on the table towards you, his eyes filled with excitement.

“With how much money they pay you for those ridiculous films you shouldn’t be stealing anything.”

“I’m sure if you sold your artwork instead of shoving it in the closet you’d be just as wealthy as me.”

“Yes, but my grand plan is to have you pay for everything so I can continue to use you and I can’t do that if I’m rich."

“You can use me anytime sweetheart.” Ben winks.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, but can't stop the blush that stains your cheeks at his insinuation.

Everything about tonight felt just like old times, the way he joked with you and the way you couldn't stop smiling, but at the same time, something else nagged at the back of your mind. The handholding was new, as were the compliments and deeper conversation, especially because Ben wasn't drunk or high, and yet he was being gentler than usual, almost soft. And that was something Ben never was, at least not in public.

You tried not to be frustrated with the turn of events and just enjoy the moment, but deep down you wanted to know.

Was Ben doing this because he cared? Or was he doing this because he sensed I was unhappy and that I was leaving and he thought this was the only way to keep me around?

“Come on, open it.”

“Fine.” You smile down at the box and slowly slide off the bow. “Please tell me you have photos of you trying to tie this bow. Preferably while you were wearing your supe suit.”

“I already destroyed the evidence.”

 “Figures.” You sigh. “Would have been a nice birthday present.”

“I think this is better, but given the pace you’re going at I’ll still be sitting here waiting for you to open it at your next birthday.” Ben takes a drink from his glass.

“Which I won’t be celebrating.”

"Oh you're going to. I’ll make sure.” 

You roll your eyes at him, before finally opening the velvet box and your next joke is forgotten as you struggle to catch your breath. You were expecting something art related. Ben always got you brushes, paints, colored pencils, and any other art supply-like gift, because he knew that you liked those things but not tonight. Because for your 65th birthday Ben decided to get you something that took your breath away.

Nestled in black velvet is a pearl necklace, elegant, beautiful, catching in the fluttering warm light of the restaurant as the band in the corner continues to play a jazzy tune that makes you remember the records your father would listen to while he smoked before bedtime.

“Ben-“ You begin to say, but you can’t finish your sentence, you're too surprised to say anything else.

Not once in all the years you’d been friends had Ben bought you jewelry. Shopping for his birthday was harder, his last one you had gotten him a pair of silver cufflinks that he was currently wearing, but each time you bought him something like that it didn't feel like you were revealing too much about how you felt and it never felt like a gift you would give someone who was more than your friend. But now, staring down at the necklace that Ben bought you feels, intimate almost romantic.

“I remembered how upset you were when you lost the one your dad got you.” Ben says slowly, his eyes on you. “I know it’s not the same one, but the lady in the store said it was the most like the ones they made when we were younger and I thought-“ He rubs the back of his neck. “Um- I thought you’d like it.”

You smile, still unable to speak, fighting the happy tears that build behind your eyes. You had lost the necklace your father got you a few months ago and you tore your entire apartment apart to find it. Ben had walked right into the middle of the chaos and found you a sobbing mess.

Your father had bought it for you on your 23rd birthday. It was your first birthday as a supe and your first one away from home. Your father had it delivered to you with a vase of fresh cut lavender, because you couldn’t go home and he couldn’t get away.  It was one of the last things you had from him, besides the antique watch perched on your wrist.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” You swallow the ball of emotion lodged in your throat.

“I do listen to you.”

You look up and raise an eyebrow.

“Sometimes.” His soft smile makes you feel light headed and makes you wish all over again that you had the courage to tell Ben the three little words that you'd always wanted to.

“I don’t know what to say-“

“Too much? Because I can take it back and buy you a paintbrush-“ Ben starts to reach for the box, but you catch his hand against the table tangling your fingertips together.

“No. It's perfect. Thank you Ben.”

He looks relieved by your answer. “You’re welcome.”

The soft sounds of conversation swell around you mixing with the tinkling of utensils against plates and the music that pours from the band in the corner where a singer dressed in a long red sequined gown sings a familiar song. But you can't stop admiring the necklace nestled in the fabric, your hand still clasped in Ben's on top of the table.

Ben finally breaks the silence. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”

You blink for a minute to comprehend what he was asking, raising your eyes to his genuine smile. "Please.”

Ben stands from his chair and comes around behind you as you gently twist your hair out of the way, so he has access to your neck. His rough fingertips brush against the smooth skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine that you hope Ben misses because how would you explain that? When he secures it at the back of your neck you look down at the pearls, holding them between your thumb and forefinger.

"They're beautiful." You whisper, before looking back up at him.

"Yes, beautiful." He responds, but Ben isn't looking at your necklace, his eyes are locked on your face.

What is going on?

"Ben-" You begin to say, attempting for the first time to ask him why he does this, acts different around you, gives you hope and then takes it all away, but he interrupts you.

"Come on." His hand falls on yours and he pulls you up out of your chair, weaving through the other tables to stand in front of the band in the corner. His right hand finds the small of your back, while his left gently holds your right in the air.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ben smiles. "We're dancing."

"No one else is dancing." You look around the room at the couples sitting quietly together enjoying their meals, who have begun to watch Ben and you sway to the music.

He leans forward to whisper into the curve of your ear. "Then let's show them how it's done Sweetheart."

You can't help but laugh at him, enjoying the way that he feels pressed against you, how it makes you feel alive in the best way, how you feel safe in his arms. Being here, swaying to the last few notes of the song with him made you reconsider leaving again. Ben was the only person who knew you completely, inside and out, the only person who seemed to understand you. Choosing to leave him would be like choosing to leave home, because after everything you'd been through, Ben was home.

As soon as the song ends, the one that follows is familiar, a tune that sparks a memory at the back of your mind. You raise your eyes to Ben's. His are crinkled with his smile, a mischievous glint behind them.

"Ben, did you tell them to play-"

"Yeah. I told them to play our song." He whispers, holding you tighter against him.

The memory of the night you first danced warms against your skin. You remembered it well. It was the night that you almost told him you loved him, the same thing you were considering right now. You couldn't believe that he remembered the song you danced to. You smile at the memory of that night, when Ben punched Howard in the face and it gave you a sickening amount of joy.

“What are you smiling at?” Ben asks you.

“I still can’t believe you hit him.” You shake your head with a laugh.

"He hurt you. And I didn't like that he made me stop dancing with my girl."

You sigh before you can stop yourself the phrase immediately making the laughter dissipate and making the warm feeling at his touch fade. Tonight Ben was again making you think that he wanted to be more, and worst of all it was making it harder to leave. Because what if this was him trying to tell you the only way he knew how? What if this was him finally admitting that he loved you and you just left?

"What?” He frowns down at you.

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

"What?"

"Your 'girl'." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the frustration from making you say more.

 “You don't think you are?"

“What do you think it means? To me it means being in a relationship with someone. We have been friends for over fifty years and you have never once said that you wanted to be more-"

"I did try to propose.” Ben jokes, not understanding that you’re upset.

"Really? That was your proposal?" You scoff rolling your eyes. "A joke while you were sitting on my shitty couch drunk off your ass while trying to apologize for almost killing Noir and telling me that you hate when I get in your way?  Forgive me for imagining some big gesture and for not swooning."

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Oh please-“

“I’m fucking serious.” He shrugs.

“What?” You look him in the eye to look for the teasing glint, but it's not there, Ben looks serious.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” Ben’s eyes lock with yours. “I also didn’t apologize for almost killing him. And I do hate when you get in my way." 

"Yes, I figured that given how angry you looked." You roll your eyes, glancing to look at the couples around you again, but this time the happiness you felt for them is gone. The jealousy is back coupled with the frustration of Ben acting like Ben and then pulling a complete 180 the next day and making you question everything. Because you wanted to exist in the moments that he was still Ben and you didn’t want to leave him, but you did want to leave Soldier Boy. The problem was right now all you saw was Ben and you hated that you couldn’t enjoy it because you knew it would end. Someone would piss him off or he’d get drunk or high or go down the rabbit hole with some other woman and Ben would be gone.

You didn’t understand how he could go from hot to cold so quickly.

“But I didn’t lie when I said I’d never hurt you.” Ben's voice rumbles up through where his chest is pressed against yours.

You want to say that you believe him, but after the past forty years you weren’t sure anymore. And that thought hurt more than anything else. You didn’t know your best friend anymore, and it scared you.

Your eyes are leveled on Ben’s chest, by now he’s stopped swaying you to the music. You know what will happen when you look up into his eyes, he'll make a joke or say something like the last forty years never happened and you'll crumble like always. You can feel his breath against your face, the warmth of his body transferring through his chest and soaking into yours.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He releases your hand and cups your cheek to tilt you head upwards to him. The one still planted on your back slides down to your waist, tightening around you as you lock eyes with him. “You know that I’d never hurt you. Right?”

Ben's eyes lock on yours, the love and care reflected in the irises makes your body burn. He's never looked at you like that, looked at you like you were the only woman in the world and deep down it makes you want to pull him close and whisper the three little words you've wanted to say for fifty seven years.

You focus on Ben's words to shake it off, it was the same thing he’d said four years ago, but this time the air between you is charged with electricity.

And you can’t take it anymore.

“Why?” You whisper.

It catches him off guard. “What?”

“Why are you different with me? When the cameras stop rolling, when the team goes home, when it’s just the two of us, you’re different." You stop to catch your breath.  "Ben, I’ve known you for fifty seven years. And in the last forty you’ve changed. But not around me, not when it’s just the two of us. You show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, we talk, we laugh about the past, you sleep in my bed, you call me 'your girl'-”

“You’ve known me longer than anyone else-” His hand is still cupping your cheek now, thumb gently brushing against the smooth skin making your throat tight.

“But even before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. You were always around me, showing up, taking me out to do things in the city. Ben, we both know how you are. I watched you chase after whatever caught your eye and even now-“ You shake your head frustrated. “But you never act that way with me.”

Ben is quiet for a minute, his eyes searching yours, soft green in the fluttering lights above your heads. “Because you’re different y/n. You’ve always been different.”

“But that doesn’t tell me why Ben. We’ve been doing this for so long and I want-“ You sigh frustrated with yourself because you can’t say it, can’t say that you want him. “I mean I’m not sure if I can-“ You were going to say that you weren’t sure you could do this anymore, that you wished he would let you go, wished that you could walk away, and wished that he would stop giving you hope that the two of you could be something more because you couldn’t do it.

But the words are stopped when his lips meet yours.

You inhale sharply in surprise, before your entire body melts against his, deepening the kiss as you drag your hands up into his dark hair, while your mind goes blissfully blank. Ben’s mouth is firm but tender against yours, moving in a slow dance that makes warm tingles trail down your spine. The hand that was on your cheek, joins the other on your waist. His hand tightens on your hip as your song continues to play while the other presses against the small of your back to secure you against him. The solidness of his chest is familiar, molding against your curves in the best way as if he was made for you and you were made for him. You feel his thumb begin to circle slowly against the fabric on your hipbone and suddenly you remember the night he helped you loosen your corset and all you wanted was him. You never thought it would feel like this.

When you finally pull away for air, Ben doesn’t let you go far, he leans his forehead against yours, the look in his eyes is surprisingly vulnerable, as if he thinks you’re going to push him away.

“I-“ He begins, his green eyes are wide almost afraid.

Why?

You raise your hands to gently cup his strong jaw, searching his eyes with a smile to confirm you aren't going anywhere, before pulling him back to you for another kiss that makes your toes curl in the tight shoes you forced them into an hour ago. Ben sighs into your mouth, a soft sound that surprises you. You had seen him kiss other people before. Ben was anything but gentle, but now you believed that he reserved that gentleness just for you and it made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle.

When you pull back again, Ben’s forehead is still against yours, his eyes bright and unmoving from your face. For a moment neither of you speaks, too afraid to break the silence.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours Sweetheart?” Ben asks, the deep rumble of his voice working up through where your chest is pressed against his. His expression is gentle, and he brings up one of the hands that was on your waist to trace the pillow of your lips with his thumb.

And before you lose your nerve your smile curves into a smirk.  “Took you long enough Benjamin.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Make me.” You mutter against his thumb.

And then he’s kissing you again, moving his lips in tandem with yours while your heart flutters and dances. And you never want it to end, because he's kissing you like he never wants to let you go and you're kissing him like you don't want him to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters against your lips with a smile, his deep eyes catching yours. "Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you, never has been, never will be."

Your heart warms, cheeks blushing with his words, because even after all these years, Ben still knew exactly what to say. You hold his face reverently, admiring the familiar dips and curves, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."  You whisper back before you kiss him and allow yourself to fall again, hoping that this time he’ll catch you.

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask Ben, gesturing with your free hand towards the kitchen.

Standing in your apartment feels different post kiss. It feels like this all represents something bigger now. The apartment, him coming upstairs even though he has spent most of the nights here since you bought it and of course the way he’s looking at you, how he’s been unable to stop looking at you since he kissed you.

“Are you going to get it for me?” Ben is still holding your hand, had held it the entire car ride, only releasing it when he got out to open the door for you and then took it again as you walked up to your apartment. His thumb is moving across the back in a soothing motion that makes you want to curl up in the warmth that trails behind like a cat in the sun.

“I’m sure you remember where it is”

“Mhmm.” Ben is eyeing you again, the green in his eyes darkening in a way that makes your throat tight.

You’re not sure who moves first, all you know is that someone closes the distance between you, and you lose yourself in him. Your curves melt against the hard muscles of Ben’s chest and arms as he pulls you into him, his hands  gripping your waist so tight that you know there might be bruises but you don’t care.

Your hands trail up his muscular chest to tangle in his hair, pulling at the darkened strands and forcing his mouth harder against yours.

He tastes like whiskey and smoke, night and day, and all those bittersweet moments you’ve shared over the years you’ve known him. There is no semblance of Soldier Boy left behind, it’s just Ben and you and it's everything you wanted for so long. The kiss is charged with so much emotion and tension you feel something inside you snap and warmth floods your body in its wake. Ben moans into your mouth, his hands coming down to sweep low over your curves and ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt before.

There had been others try to do exactly this. Other heroes you politely declined because you didn’t feel anything for them. You remember the kisses with Howard, passionless, boring, but being here with Ben was like nothing you’d ever imagined. The subtle scratch of his scruff against your cheeks makes you lose all feeling in your legs, his strong embrace makes goosebumps burn against your skin, and the sounds he’s making against your lips makes your heart seize in your chest.

He backs you up and you both fall on the couch in a tangle of limbs, his body caging you beneath him while his fingertips boldly trail against your body, finding places that make you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his smirk against your lips and you’ve never felt more sexy in your life. Ben’s moans against every piece of skin he can get his lips against make you blush crimson and echo his cries with soft sounds that make him grip you tighter. His hands are everywhere, coaxing along your curves, discovering places that you didn’t know could be sensitive and that make you gasp and arch against him as he continues to kiss you.

Everything about this feels right, feels perfect, as if you were both made for this exact moment. The subtle drag of his hands against you, the firm assertive way he holds you beneath him, how your body responds to his touch, and the way your heart continues to swell in your chest, frantically beating as if it wishes to break free. You forget about all the other women he's ever been with, all the others he's probably held close, nothing else exists at this moment, nothing else exists except him and you here on this couch. His lips ghost to your neck as he sucks a mark into the column of your throat and you realize he's saying your name over and over the way that no one ever has.

There’s a loud ripping noise and you understand that Ben ripped off the bottom half of your dress, the tattered remains just barely brushing against your thighs. But you can’t be angry with him for that, not when everything he’s doing feels perfect.

Ben’s hands slowly begin to push up the bottom of your now ruined dress and you come back down from your high, feeling the gentle press of his fingers against your thigh as they begin to move upwards.

“Ben-" You breathe.

You hate how breathy your voice sounds, but the new sensations running through your body are almost too overwhelming for you to gain control of. If you weren't both as indestructible as you were you would be afraid of the possibility of killing Ben.

He moans into your neck, working his hand up further to a place that makes your grip his shoulders tight and you leave bruises of your own, because you’re the only person strong enough to bruise him, to leave marks against his almost invulnerable skin. And it makes a shudder go down his spine.

"Ben wait-"

He stops, looking down at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated in a way that almost sends you back into a frenzy with him. "What's wrong?" He is also out of breath, chest rising and falling fast. You can hear his heart beat thundering in his chest, beating in tandem with yours.

“Before we do this I just want to tell you that I’ve never-" You bite your lip nervously. "I've never done this before.”

“This?” He looks confused, withdrawing his hand from under your ruined dress.

“Well- you know." You gesture between the two of you. "This.”

"You've never had sex with anyone before?"

"No." You flush bright red wondering if that's a deal breaker for him. If he wanted someone more experienced. "I’m sorry."

He sits there for a minute, staring down at you. "Why are you apologizing?” Ben’s hand brushes your hair away from your face in a gentle gesture, so different than the heavy caresses of his hands against your curves he did earlier.

“I don’t know.” You whisper embarrassed. “I just- everyone else has and I’m pretty sure you have with millions of people.”

“Well not millions.”

“But still.” You suddenly think that this was a giant mistake, that you should just go to your room in shame. You drop your eyes to his chest embarrassed.

His hands are stroking along your waist, toying with the frayed edges of your dress. “Y/n.” He whispers.

“What?” You mumble.

Ben raises his hand to cup your cheek, turning your gaze back on him. The way he’s looking at you causes a hot jolt of energy to race down your spine and makes you wish that you were more confident or knew what you were doing.

 He’d been with hundreds of women all kinds of women and what had I been doing all these years? Nothing and no one. I’m not really sure if I understood the mechanics OF sex- but oh how I wished. My head was just getting in the way of everything else as usual.

“I will admit that I have slept with a lot of women.” Ben sighs. “But it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-“

“I want to.”

 “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m the best person for this-“ And for a moment you think he looks almost worried.

Why would he think that?

“I’m sure. I want it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” You breathe, running your hands through his hair, your cheeks flushing bright red with your confession, afraid that you’re saying too much, giving too much away as to how much he means to you.

“Really?” Ben smiles in a way that makes your breath catch.

You nod.

“I can’t promise it won’t hurt.” The darkness in his eyes shifts to something else and for a moment it’s difficult for you to form a sentence. He leans his forehead against yours, searching your eyes.  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben whispers it like a secret.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you Ben.” You whisper, knotting you hands in his hair.

“You do?”

You nod your head. “And I’m pretty sure that I’m just as capable of hurting you-“

“Maybe.” The look in his eyes is back, blazing through his green irises in a way that makes your throat swell closed. He bends over to whisper against the curve of your ear. “Then again, I kinda like that Sweetheart.” His lips brush just behind your right ear, making a shiver go down your spine. Ben smiles at your reaction before he dips down to kiss you, but it’s different, the kiss is soft, trusting, and not the previous manic haze of desire it was previously. “ I know you think it’s a big deal, but I like that I’m your first. Because it means that no other man has touched you, made you feel any of the things that I’m going to do to you, and that I’ll never have to share you with anyone else.” His grip on your waist tightens possessively. “That you’ll be completely and utterly mine and no one else can do a damn thing.”

You inhale and try not to faint from the darkened look in his eyes. “Well when you put it that way-“

“Come on.” Ben stands from the couch.

Before you can get up to follow he picks you up like you weigh nothing causing you to automatically wrap your thighs around his waist as he kisses you feverishly again, wiping your mind of anything and everything but him.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, entangling your hands at the nape of his neck to secure yourself.

“I’m not going to let your first time be on some shitty couch.” He mutters against your lips while adjusting his grip under your legs

And with that he takes you down the hall and kicks your bedroom door closed behind you.

A/N: Well it finally happened. Unfortunately this is also when all hell breaks loose…

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts

@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan

[kurosstuff]

Hopefully thos is a good casual talk(not totally idk HELP ?)

HELP- Im still watching so forgive me if I didn't write her wrll I don't remember much from the first time I watched- tell me if I need to change anything from how I write "soft" carmilla(which tbh I don't think would be all that soft given who she is bur she tries)

Warning(s): fluff no angst(maybe a tiny bit? Idk), soft Carmilla, MAYBE ooc carmilla, carmilla is just head over heels for you, CLIFF HANGER ENDING, kinda rushed idk

Carmilla x human! Reader: late night talks

It's not every day or night you get alone time with your beloved girlfriend...or mate? Whatever the proper term would be. Carmilla was always busy doing God's knows what. From being with her sisters and planning whatever they do in that meeting room, going out personally to ensure her plans are working herself. Never allowing herself a break not even the Queen vampire herself is free from paper work.

Just comes with the responsibilities she has on herself

Makes nights like these so worth it- how she wore her sleep wear finally relaxing in bed with you awake this time- a hand gently scratching your scalp- her retractable claws shortened to ensure your comfort and safety- how she pulled you snug into her chest- "my darling?" She spoke softly- making you grin nuzzling into her making her hum softly

Oh how lucky you are- the only one in the universe itself to hear her speak speak in such a soft way- "my mate?" She purred out softly kissing the top of your head smiling softly once you looked up at her "now what's on your mind? So much I had to repeat myself to gain your attention?" She purred softly the usual playful glint in her eyes when she looked at you.

But you knew. Everyone knows how she loaths repeating herself. No matter what it is- but when it's you? She doesn't seem to mind that much...but even she has limits with you.

"You~" you replied, quickly leaning up to kiss your lover softly, making her hum content almost smug at your words "oh of course~ my darling Carmilla adores to be thought about no?" You teased softly moving to sit up stretching

A soft growl followed by a grumble escaped the vampire behind you- followed by rustling "you know your the only one I want to think of me in such a way. Like how you plauge my thoughts and dreams~" Carmilla purred out, moving to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you close, practically dragging you on her lap- you'd call her clingy if you didn't get hissed at before from the 'lies'

"Oh~? I plauge you my dear? Such a horror no?"

"Indeed it is~" smirking softly kissing your lips softly her cold fangs brushing against you in a soft motion "but I wouldn't want it any other way my lovely little human~" she hummed out softly leaning to look out the window- the full moon shining as she huffed

You knew exactly what that meant. That distaste on her face. How irritated she became so fast- so quickly. You prayed you had longer to be with her. In her arms

"I must leave soon"

"Must you?" You cut her off knowing anyone else? Wouldn't have survived much less gotten a half of a glare. "Must you leave? You can stay longer~? With me.. in our bed~ our room? Cuddling more?" Turning in her hold to face her fully as she hummed thinking it over

"..not too much longer. My sisters think I spoil you too much, " making you fake gasp- earning a soft laugh,"but I believe you're not spoiled enough~" staring at you softly in that loving look- how you truly help her unbeating heart as she holds your beating one

"What do you think of marriage?"

The room fell silent as she stared at you- mouth slightly open before she hummed. Automatically, you felt guilty. Knowing from what she spoke before- she doesn't enjoy the idea of it. How she would have to share her status? Share control? Both things she hated the most.

Hated giving control to anyone. Even her own sisters. To the point it would lead to arguments. Rare fights between them all- but as you understood, they did to- so their would always be a condition. Agreements. How Carmilla would have more control then the others even just slightly. It's something no one could blame her for it.

"Oh god i.. carmilla, I'm so sorry for suggesting g the idea i-" you quickly rushed to fix your slip up- something you never wanted her to know. The one selfish(you deemed) thought.. dream to have. To have her as your wife- more then just a girlfriend as you spilled over your apology- Carmilla watched you closely in thought

"Marriage?" She hummed softly, rubbing your waist in an attempt to calm you - which as always did. "I have thought of it," she hummed softly, "marrying you. Making you mine for eternity." Leaning agaisnt the bedframe making you look at her once again flushed- earning a smirk from her "being your wife~ now that. Isn't a bad thought~" she hummed in thought tapping your waist in deep thought of what that could mean

Of what she's saying.

"My gods.. Y/N.. how inlove with you must I be to allow this thought?" She spoke softly speaking parts of her mind allowed. You stayed quiet listening to her as she gathered whatever she had planned "marriage is on equal standings with each other. Of course we are now but. Their was always that control I had fully. I'm a queen- your my human lover." She hummed softly tilting her head furrowing her eyebrows

Had you heard anyone else say that- you'd be upset. Mad. But not her Not at your Carmilla. You understood why she said that- why she saw you as an equal being but not. Your still a human- not even you can make her see humans as more then a pest- but you've always been seen differently in her eyes

"...I think I'd like it" Blinking, you looked back at Carmilla, who almost seemed bashful.. an odd contrast from what you usually see. The usual calculating face. Of someone who planned what she would do. Planned to say before hand

But now- you hear the rare thoughts allowed before she herself thought it through "I would love to marry you one day. Maybe not soon. But one day. When you and I are both fully ready." Holding you closer, not minding the fact you are now too flustered by her words to reply - she already knew the answer - so she smirked, kissing you deeply trying to show her deep love to you in a physical way "so I'll ask you~ my darling human~ my mate~" she purred against your lips leaning back- to hold your hands kissing the finger where a ring would sit

"Will you marry me one day?"

[nyxyxx]

Godly Desires - Part 3

The Diluc chapter woohoo (he may be a little ooc but thats cuz im very inexperienced at writing him) The yandere stuff will gradually get more intense as the story goes on but for now its super super mild. I. II. III. IV.

Warnings: This story contains yandere content and religious themes

-3-

"A friendly drink"

-

You had just arrived with Diluc at Dawn Winery, and you couldn't help but notice the glances you got from all of the workers as you walked past them. Something about it seemed odd, but you didn't have enough time to figure out what was wrong. You trailed after Diluc as he led you into his office, and shut the door behind him.

"Please, sit," he said, watching you awkwardly stand by the chairs. You nodded and hesitantly sat down on the cushioned seat, and you couldn't even believe how comfy the seat was. Well, you had just been spending all of your time in the wild outdoors so having a nice chair to sit in was very unusual.

Diluc walked over to his chair, on the other side of the desk, and sat down. He pulled a bottle out from underneath his desk. "It's grape juice, is that alright?" He asked, suddenly nervous. He didn't want to give you a bad first impression, although it was already a little messy because of what happened down by the lake.

"Oh sure. I don't mind." You answered. The corners of his lips rose ever so slightly, and he opened the bottle of grape juice. You were engrossed in the way he carefully held the wine glass, gentle but firm, and the charming way he poured the juice into the glass. Something about it was surreal. Elegant even. He had an air of nobility around him life that.

However on his part, what he noticed was completely different. He felt that his hands were too shaky. That he was taking too long to pour the glass, and the silence that hung in the air was becoming thicker. He could barely breathe at the prospect that you were even here, in his home, sharing a drink with him. It was unbelievable, really.

Once he was finished, he handed the glass over to you, and you took it from his hand, your fingertips gently brushing against his. The tips of his ears turned a very light pink, but he was lucky that you hadn't been paying attention to that.

He hated that he felt so nervous. He should be elegant and charming, and leave a very good impression on you, so that maybe, just maybe you might see him favorably. He despised how weak he felt, but it was only natural for him to be nervous in the presence of a being like you.

"Mm...thank you" You said, as you took a sip of the grape juice. It was sweet, but not too sweet, and had a little bit of sourness to it. It was refreshing and cold, but made you feel warm. Out in the wild, you had occasionally found fruits and just drank the juice from them, but this was a little different.

"Please, there is no need to thank me, it is my honor," He said, taking a sip from his glass. You thought he was just being a gentleman, but in truth he was all euphoric on the inside.

In the silence, your mind began to wander. You started to doubt more and more if this was actually a dream or not. Of course it had to be, because this place wasn't real. Diluc wasn't real. That should be the case, but yet, you felt like you've been here for such a long time already. When were you going to wake up from this dream?

You thought it strange how real everything feels, from the cold water, to the rich taste of the grape juice, to the hunger and thirst you had experienced, it was all so vivid. Could this really be a dream? You've heard that it is possible for people to experience very real sensations in their dreams, but you never thought it would be as convincing as this.

Well anyway, there was no point in worrying about the details. You had no idea how long this dream was going to last, so in the meantime you might as well have fun with it. After all, there was no harm in having fun in a dream right?

The glass in your hands was now empty, the juice all gone. "Thank you for the drink, but I should probably get going now," you said, rising from your seat. You already missed the softness of the chair. You looked at Diluc, who sat their blankly staring at his empty glass. Shrugging, you began to walk towards the door, only to stop upon hearing his voice.

"You should stay the night here. It is already getting dark outside. It will be dangerous." He said, quickly rising from his chair. He walked over to you carefully, and smiled. He was just trying to be considerate.

"I mean, is that really okay? I don't mean to impose..." You trailed off, while that was true, you also did feel a little bit awkward about the situation.

"I assure you, it is not a big deal. I'll have a guest room arranged for you." He said, without waiting for your answer. "Then you can leave first thing in the morning." but please allow me just a bit more time to be near you, is what he didn't say out loud. You simply sighed and agreed. It would in fact be easier just to stay here until morning. Then you could find your way to Mondstadt without it being the middle of the night.

-

Taglist: @justyoureader; @mmeatt; @iamapotatoe; @clavichordcleffa; @yu-ulda; @c3rtifiedsimp; @eravariety

[trixy812]

012 🌸🤍Never Change

Tags: Nanami x fem!reader, angst, tw: bullying, yuuji Itadori ooc??

Synopsis: A note from the past rekindles memories of quiet kindness and unspoken feelings.

An: This is a short fanfic that means a lot to me. I went through bullying in high school—people called me ugly and laughed at me for it. It left me deeply scarred, and even now, I can’t look at myself in a mirror when I’m out at a party or anywhere that isn’t home.

The idea for this story came from a joke I made to a friend. I told them that if my fiancé had met me in high school, he probably would’ve bullied me too (he’s always been one of those popular, well-loved guys). My friend surprised me by saying, “I don’t think so. He would’ve fallen deeply in love with you and protected you.”

And, well, here we are! Of course, I had to throw in some angst because I know you all love that. This is my longest author’s note yet, but I really wanted to share this with you. Thank you! 💕

🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃

Elementary school was a battlefield for you. You loved anime unapologetically, your heart worn on your sleeve, but that only made you an easy target. Whether it was pulling out a manga during library hours or raising your hand in class to ask the questions others were too afraid—or too bored—to ask, you always seemed to draw unwanted attention. And with that attention came the snickers, the muttered insults, the cruelty.

Except for him.

Kento Nanami wasn’t the type to stand out. He wasn’t loud, nor was he the kind of person to rush to someone’s defense with bold words or dramatic gestures. He was quiet, observant, and more often than not, detached. But you’d catch his gaze sometimes—a brief flicker of acknowledgment, a moment of stillness in the sea of chaos.

At first, you thought he didn’t care. He never said anything when others taunted you, never stepped in to tell them to stop. But then there were the little things. The way he’d linger just long enough to block someone from snatching a manga out of your hands. The way he’d redirect the attention of the class with a clever remark when your questions were met with ridicule. The way he’d sit across from you in the library, his quiet presence a subtle barrier against anyone who dared to interrupt your peace.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

You didn’t spend time together outside of school. You were classmates, occasional companions in a sea of indifference. Yet, in those fleeting moments, his quiet kindness felt like a lifeline.

What you didn’t know was that Nanami was watching. Not just you, but the people around you. The way they treated you, the way they laughed at things they didn’t understand, the way they mocked someone who only wanted to be herself. It wasn’t just unfair—it was senseless. And little by little, his view of humanity began to sour.

"They’re awful," he thought. "They’re all awful."

But you weren’t.

You, with your boundless curiosity and your unapologetic love for what you loved. You, who didn’t hurt anyone but bore the brunt of everyone’s disdain. You weren’t awful.

And maybe that’s why he stayed close in his own way, orbiting your world like a distant but steadfast star.

But then, one day, he was gone. When high school began, Nanami didn’t come back. He disappeared as quietly as he’d stayed, leaving no trace behind. You moved on—or at least, you thought you did.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

It was a quiet afternoon when it happened. You were reorganizing your shelves, pulling out old books you hadn’t touched in years. That’s when an old English dictionary slipped from your hands and hit the floor. As you bent down to pick it up, a folded piece of paper fluttered out.

You unfolded it, and the words, written in neat, careful handwriting, made your breath catch.

"Please, never change. Thank you for everything, and always follow your dreams."

Your heart stopped.

Nanami.

The memory of him surged back into your mind like a tidal wave, sweeping away the years of distance and burying you in moments you thought you’d forgotten: the way he’d glance at you with quiet understanding, the soft curve of his rare smiles, the steady, unshakable presence he carried wherever he went.

And now, this.

Tears blurred your vision as you read and reread the note. Had he really written this for you? How had you never noticed before? How had you never realized what he meant to you?

That’s when it hit you.

You had loved him.

Maybe not in the childish way people talk about first crushes, but deeply, profoundly. You had loved the boy who sat quietly in the library, who didn’t laugh when others did, who saw you when no one else cared to look.

And now, this note. His words—thank you for everything—felt like they came from another world, another time. You hadn’t done anything for him. If anything, you owed him.

Suddenly, the idea of finding him consumed you. You had to see him again. To tell him what he meant to you. To thank him. And maybe—just maybe—to find out if he still carried any piece of those quiet, shared moments in his heart.

It wasn’t easy. You scoured social media, old directories, anything that could give you a clue. Weeks passed, and just when you were about to give up, you found it.

A photo.

It was a photo of two people: a blond man with a serious expression standing beside a younger man with pink hair, smiling brightly. The caption read: "Nanamin."

You stared at the photo, your chest tightening. It had been so many years. Could this really be him?

With trembling hands, you messaged the owner of the account, explaining your connection and asking for help. It was a risk—you knew you sounded desperate—but you didn’t care. You needed to know.

To your surprise, the reply came quickly.

"I can meet you at the station tomorrow. I’ll explain everything then."

When you saw Yuji Itadori, the young man from the photo, his face was kind but somber. He introduced himself and hesitated, as if searching for the right words.

"I know why you’re looking for Nanami-san," he said gently. "But I don’t think I can give you the answer you’re hoping for."

Your stomach churned.

"Why not?" you asked, though part of you already knew the answer.

He looked at you, his expression heavy with grief.

"Nanami Kento is dead."

[chapqellroan]

bed bad chem

⋆˚࿔ tws .ᐟ prob ooc lol, fem!reader !

⋆˚࿔ wc .ᐟ around 600

you’d both sworn you wouldn’t end up like this again—sharing the same bed, tangled in each other’s lives when everything screamed you shouldn’t be. the night had started innocently enough. a casual run-in at breadstix turned into looks that lasted just a little too long. then came the invitation, and the next thing you knew, you were here—your heart pounding, the warmth of her body too close, too familiar.

the silence between you was heavy, almost deafening. you wanted to say something, to break the tension that had been simmering between you since you walked through her door, but the words wouldn’t come. quinn shifted slightly, her arm brushing against yours, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“you’re not sleeping either,” her voice broke the silence, soft and laced with something you couldn’t quite place—hesitation, maybe.

you turned your head to look at her, finding her hazel eyes already on you, her hair falling messily across her pillow. even like this—raw, stripped of her usual polished appearance—quinn was stunning. and she knew it. she always did.

“no,” you admitted quietly. “too much on my mind.”

she huffed a small laugh, her lips quirking into a half-smile. “yeah, me too.”

her gaze lingered on you, and you could feel it, the weight of her unspoken thoughts pressing down on you like the duvet that suddenly felt too warm. you wanted to ask what she was thinking, but deep down, you already knew. it was the same thing you were thinking, the same thing you both always thought when you were together like this.

“this…” she started, gesturing vaguely between you and her. “it’s a terrible idea, isn’t it?”

you sighed, rolling onto your side to face her fully. “probably. but it doesn’t stop us, does it?”

quinn smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. there was a vulnerability there that she rarely let you see, and it made your chest tighten. “we have bad chemistry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “you know that, right?”

“do we?” you asked, a challenge in your tone.

her brows furrowed slightly, and she bit her lip, a habit she fell into whenever she was thinking too hard about something. “we fight. we drive each other crazy. and then…” she trailed off, her eyes dropping to your lips for just a second before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

“and then,” you echoed, your voice soft but steady.

quinn didn’t respond right away. instead, she shifted closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “and then we end up here,” she said finally, her voice cracking slightly.

her admission hung in the air, raw and unpolished, but honest. you didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand finding hers between the sheets. her fingers curled around yours instinctively, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter.

“maybe it’s not bad chemistry,” you murmured, breaking the silence.

quinn tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she searched your face. “what do you mean?”

“maybe it’s just… complicated,” you said, your thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “complicated doesn’t mean bad.”

she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “you’re always so optimistic.”

you smiled faintly. “one of us has to be.”

quinn stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. then, without a word, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was hesitant at first but quickly deepened. it was familiar and intoxicating, the kind of kiss that made you forget why this was supposed to be a bad idea in the first place.

when she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, she let out a shaky breath. “i’m gonna regret this in the morning,” she said, but there was no conviction in her voice.

“maybe,” you admitted. “but not right now.”

she laughed softly, and for a moment, it felt like everything was okay—like you weren’t tangled in something that could so easily fall apart. because for all the bad chemistry, for all the fights and the tension and the chaos, there was this—these quiet moments where it felt like the rest of the world didn’t matter.

and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

[izels-writing]

s. black — august

Tagged; @urbansaint

Pairing: sirius black x fem!slytherin!french!reader

Summary: you and sirius spent most of august together.

Warnings: slightly ooc sirius, a little drama but they’re teens so😝, harassment (brief), slight enemies to lovers if u squint real hard, a bit rushed i apologize, brief mention of france so i apologize i forgot that was part of the request, also i didn’t put regulus and sirius making up in this bc it was already long asf my bad

you hated sirius black. with a passion. not for any unknown reason—no, you had every right to hate him. even his friends knew it. and you were nothing if not stubborn. you'd never admit someone could get under you skin, but he absolutely could.

to understand why you hated sirius, first you had to understand what lead to this in the first place—starting at the beginning.

after a two-week vacation in your parents home town, bordeaux, france, you were very happy to be home. it wasn't that you hated your extended family, but you certainly enjoyed the comfort of your own bed as opposed to the old mattress that your older cousin no longer used.

living beside the potters was fun, if you could believe. you and your parents got along amazingly with the potters, despite you and james' teasing rivalry. you both never meant anything by it, but it was a fun inside joke—even if you hardly acknowledged each other at school.

placing your book down, you glanced up through your bedroom window, peering inside james' bedroom curiously. adding to the rivalry, your bedrooms faced each other—which was funnier than you both cared to admit.

you spotted a tall, though shorter than james, lean boy with handsome features and beautiful black hair. immediately, when he turned around, you recognized it to be sirius black—james' best friend. you knew seldom of sirius' home situation, but knew enough to know that the potters were his safe haven.

unfortunately, a week into the summer, before you left for france—sirius showed up to you and james' movie night, bleeding and crying hysterically from whatever had happened at his home. james helped him get changed while you made them tea and you quickly left, knowing it was not your place to stay. since then, sirius had spoken to you and apologized for the intrusion—but you knew he had nothing to be sorry for. it wasn't his fault.

since you had gotten home, you had gotten yourselves into a bit of a tedious situation.

one night, before the beginning of august, he had trouble sleeping and he had signaled to you through your bedroom window (given he knew what a night owl you were) that he was bored. though you felt you shouldn't have, given your parents no boys rule, you invited him over through your window. he had stayed up with you for a few hours, you two talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

and then, it became a nightly occurrence. you both thought james had no idea, given his habit of sleeping at 9:30 pm sharp, and if he did, he never made it obvious. every night, at 11 pm, he'd climb out of james' window and into yours.

and eventually, given the intimacy of those shared late nights, you grew an attraction to one another. one that did not go left unsaid.

you pulled away from your kiss, pushing sirius' hair out of his face. he was under you, with you straddling his torso as he lied on your bed. his lips were a red shade, from the bruising kissing you two had been engaged in. he tried to pull you in again with a smirk, but you chuckled and pulled away again. you stared into his eyes.

"we're going back to school soon, you know that right?" you asked. he groaned.

"don't remind me," he whined. he pulled you in for another kiss, pulling your hips down onto his. you hummed happily into the kiss but pulled back again.

"so, i know it may be too early to decide this, but we've got to figure out how to explain it you know?" you replied. his side wasn't so much a problem, but you were already a pariah in the slytherin house—given your indifference to pureblood status—you didn't exactly want to seem like the weird girl who sneaks around with a gryffindor.

sirius furrowed his eyebrows. "what're you talking about?"

he sat up as you situated yourself on his lap. he gave you a confused look and you shyly explained, "well, people are gonna ask questions—i feel like we should be on the same page about this, whatever this is,"

"yeah, well it's simple, no one will know," sirius shrugged. he tried to lean into to kiss you again, but you pulled away, sliding off of his lap.

"what do you mean no one will know?" you questioned, your blood running cold as he looked at you.

"i mean we'll keep it a secret, no one should know and frankly i don't want to tell anyone," he said casually.

you blinked at him. "and why not?"

he chuckled, trying to ease the growing tension. "y/n, you and i can't be seen together, you and i both know that..."

"what're you on about?" you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly at the boy.

"well, you know you're a...slytherin, you know? i can't be seen with you, your house is what i've been trying to escape my whole life..." he said dumbfounded.

you felt your heart drop as you chuckled humorlessly, you stood up and paced the room, "i don't believe this..."

frankly, hearing this made you wish you had never met him into your room in the first place.

"what? y/n, come on, you can't be that way... you know what my families like, and they're all slytherins, what'll people say when they see me with you? after running away? it's laughable!"

your blood boiled. "how can you sit there and say that? so what, i'm shameful to be with? not all slytherins are the same, just because your family is from that house and they're dickwads—it doesn't mean the same for the rest of us!" you said angrily.

"i can't believe you're overreacting about this! it's just not the right time! i ran away from my family, to be with a real loving family, to what? be associated with another slytherin? i've worked so hard to be separated from that house, from that family, i'm sorry but i won't go back—not for anyone. you can't sit here and tell me that everyone from that house isn't exactly like my family!" sirius replied angrily. he stood from your bed as he yelled and you felt your heart twist, staring up at him with fury.

"you know, you sit here and talk about how terrible your family is and how much you hate them and never want to be like them," you spat. "but you are exactly like them!"

"you judge people, you act like you're better than everyone because of who you are or what house your from, and you are a coward and cruel!" you spat angrily, lip quivering. "get out!"

sirius' expression changed. he was angry. he was hurt. more importantly, he felt like you had just plunged a deep knife into his heart and twisted. but most of all, he looked numb.

"you know what? i will leave, i may be a coward, but i would've never said to you what you just said to me," he spat. he climbed out of the window, leaving quickly and quickly going into his own home.

you watched angrily as he did, unfortunately still caring that he made it inside safely, and closed your window and curtain.

you couldn't believe he had made you feel so stupid...

———

months had passed since you and sirius' huge fight. since then, you'd hardly spoken to each other—and if you did, it wasn't very kind exchanges. your interactions were filled with glares and sarcasm and irritability with each other—and james was left more than confused how something so gentle could change into something so angry overnight.

nonetheless, you did your best to avoid each other at school. did you miss your late night talks with him? your late night eating sessions? most of all, your late night arts and crafts? of course, but he had shown you who he really was. you didn't need to miss someone like that. ( and honestly, it had become really clear how boring you two were together—but those nights were the funnest nights of your life. )

"hey, y/n," pandora burke sighed, throwing herself in the seat in front of you in the great hall. you looked up at your friend and smiled slightly, "hey, dora," you replied.

soon enough, evan rosier joined you both—quickly accompanied by regulus black. you were close with pandora for a long time, but not so much regulus and evan until this year. pandora, who was the only one to know about your fling, attributed the newfound friendship with the younger black brother as a subtle way to get back at sirius—whether it was or not, you certainly enjoyed regulus' company since he matured as a person—and you had to admit, the angry and infuriated look on sirius' face when you laughed with his brother was priceless.

you glanced up from your cereal as evan talked happily about the new spell he had learned to mess with gryffindors, finding grey eyes looming over you as you ate. you flared at sirius, finding he more than returned the favor.

"hello? y/n? why aren't you listening to me? can you stop eye-fucking regulus' brother for one second and listen to me?" evan said loudly, turning a few heads. thankfully, plenty were afraid of regulus that when he glared at them to mind their business, they did just that.

"i am not," you seethed.

"you kind of are," pandora added sheepishly.

"leave her alone," regulus sighed. "he was staring at her,"

"that fucking asswipe, i don't understand what's so interesting about me eating my cereal?" you scoffed, turning to regulus dumbfounded.

regulus shrugged. "maybe he thinks you're pretty,"

"probably," pandora smirked, eyeing you subtly.

"i know i'm pretty, i don't need his validation," you spat—glaring at the boy who had promptly turned to join in with lupin and pettigrews conversation.

you turned to regulus and smiled nonetheless, "but thanks, reg," you grinned, hitting his side playfully.

"whatever, we should go...we have divination soon," regulus muttered.

"you don't even like that class," evan said.

"yeah, but i do, and reggie is my mini me, let's get on with it, reg," you grinned, pulling regulus up with you. bidding a goodbye to your friends, you and regulus left the great hall arm-in-arm—unbeknownst to both of you, a pair of grey eyes watched you both angrily as you left.

——

potions was a hard enough class as it was, given your head of house taught it and expected perfection from his students. it was even harder when slughorn had no sense of social cues and decided to pair you and sirius up today to complete a potion.

frankly, you couldn't put all the blame on slughorn. if sirius and james weren't acting like such idiots, then you and pandora wouldn't have gotten separated to be paired with them.

"can you at least pretend like you're interested?" you hissed at the boy who had put his hair up in a makeshift bun and kicked his feet up on the table. you swatted his feet to the ground, glaring angrily at him.

"why should i? you're just gonna do what you when you want to anyway," sirius spat back.

you rolled your eyes. you nodded at the wooden spoon, "hand me that, you twat," you sneered. with ab annoyed huff, sirius grabbed the spoon and placed it softly in your hand. his fingertips brushed against your palm and for a second, it felt like that comforting feeling of you two back in your room—hands intertwined under covers and lips locked passionately.

he pulled his hand away promptly as you stared at the cauldron, trying to snap your common sense back into place. you acted unbothered by the hand touch and resumed your potion making, a subtle scowl printed on your lips.

you turned to sirius, glancing down at your textbook before looking at him. "bring me the rat's heart," you said sternly. with an exaggerated, annoyed sigh—sirius stood quickly and made his way over, picking up a small jar of the rats heart and ambling over, placing it gingerly in your hand.

"anything else, your highness?" he asked sarcastically.

you glared at him. "no, that'll be all, thank you," you spat back.

——

after class, you went to the library to try and get homework done. as much as you loved pandora, you were easily distracted by her and you would really like to turn your stuff in on time.

unfortunately for you, goyle had other plans. he was some persistent 5th year who had a thing for you, which would be fine, if he wasn't a downright creep about it. you didn't even know the boys first name, that's how irritating he was to you.

"come on, i'll bet I'll give you the best night of your life," goyle whispered to you, trying his hardest to seduce you it seemed. you rolled your eyes.

"leave me alone, i don't want any nights with you," you sneered, shoving a book into its shelf and attempting to walk off.

nonetheless, the boy persisted. "you're playing hard to get," he chuckled.

"or maybe you're not worth my time," you scoffed.

his face twisted angrily as he tripped to grip your hip. "don't talk to me like that," he said angrily.

"get your hands off of me!" you spat, throwing his hand off.

"i ought to—" goyle began.

"get the bloody hell off of her," sirius spat, shoving goyle away from you. "when a girl tells you no, she means no,"

"whatever, you're a slag anyway," goyle spat at you before walking off. sirius almost went after him, but you grabbed his arm as you watch goyle leave.

"don't worry about it, thanks," you said nonchalantly.

he nodded at you, "any time, n/n,"

both of your eyes widened, as you both remembered the exact times he'd call you that nickname. you cleared your throat and walked off, leaving him standing there blankly before he eventually walked off.

you turned the corner, bringing your back to the shelf, and took a deep breath. why did he have to keep reminding you?

——

parties were debatable to you. a part of you liked the music and the dancing, and most certainly the drinking. another part of you hated to be around that many people at one time. however, you'd do it for james.

gryffindor had just won their game against ravenclaw, and james begged you to come to the party. it was rare you two actually spoke to you at school, but when you did talk—it was usually to ask for each others support.

you entered the gryffindor common room, your little black dress wrapped around your body in all the right places and your heels heightened you just enough that it made your legs look longer. you pulled off your cardigan, draping it over the couch that sat near the fireplace.

you quickly joined your friends marlene and dorcas on the dance floor—you, james, and marlene had grown up together as neighbors. so though you weren't as close anymore, you still considered each other friends.

"hey babe," marlene grinned, running over to hug you. dorcas smiled and did the same, greeting you quietly.

"hey marls, where's james?" you asked, looking around for your tall, messy-haired friend.

"uh...oh! doing shots over there with sirius, remus, and peter!" she replied, pointing over to the four boys. you smiled and the three of you made your way over.

"congrats james!" you and marlene exclaimed, running up to hug him. he smiled and kissed both of your heads.

"guys, these are my sisters! i love them so much!" he slurred, pulling you and marlene close. the other boys and dorcas laughed, while you and marlene chuckled. thankfully, james had showered before the party.

the rest of them quickly ran off to the dance floor, leaving you and sirius standing there watching them. you poured yourself a cup of beer, taking a small sip.

"you look great, n/n," sirius smiled. his cheeks were a bit flushed, but above all else, he looked sober.

"how drunk are you right now?" you asked, surveying him closely.

"never mind," he said promptly before attempting to walk off. you grabbed his forearm swiftly and smiled slightly.

"thanks," you said simply. he grinned at you, before walking off into the dance floor. he was most definitely drunk.

as the party progressed, you managed to be the only one to stay sober. every one of your friends was hammered, leaving you to babysit the group. thankfully, they weren't blackout.

"alright, here you both go," you grunted as you set peter down in his bed and remus on the one beside it. truthfully, you didn't know which was who's bed, but you knew if you didn't get them to sleep now—it wouldn't end well.

they muttered a thanks to you before the snores quickly began. you laughed it off, before walking over to james where he lied on what you presumed was his bed. he was sound asleep thankfully, so you swiftly removed his glasses and placed it on his dresser.

marlene and dorcas had already been put to bed, with the help of lily, who had bid you a quick good night as she went to babysit the two of them.

with a sigh, you went back downstairs to your last caretakee of the night. sirius, though you disliked him, couldn't be the only one you didn't put to bed. you sighed and crouched in front of him, being sure to cover your knees with your dress.

"sirius, it's time to go to bed," you said.

"no, i want to party!" he exclaimed through his closed eyes, pumping his fist in the air.

"yeah, there's a party in your bed, come on," you tried. then you scrunched your nose, "that sounded so wrong,"

he giggled. "you're funny,"

"it's one of my many talents," you replied. then, you stood and offered him a hand. he sighed and took it, standing up and stumbling slightly.

you allowed him to support his weight on you, despite the height difference, and you both stumbled over to the stairs. you took a few steps before he groaned.

"stop, stop, i'm going to throw up," he groaned. you quickly let him sit down, sitting beside him promptly. you waited patiently as he took a few deep breaths.

you both sat there in silence. you used to talk all the time, but now this is what your interactions consisted of. pure silence. it was a miracle he was drunk now, at least that would explain it this time.

he looked at you. "you know, you do look pretty today, beautiful even,"

"you're drunk," you rolled your eyes. "you wouldn't be saying it otherwise," you said—turning to look at him as well.

"i think it all the time, did you know that, miss know-it-all?," he chuckled. "you're captivating,"

you rolled your eyes. "alright, charmer, are you actually nauseous or did you just want to talk my ear off all night?"

"i dunno, i used to do it all the time, remember? i miss it..." he mumbled.

"yeah, well, that's not exactly on me," you muttered, loud enough so he could hear it.

sirius took a deep breath, looking at you with sorrow-filled eyes. "it was the biggest mistake i've ever made, y/n,"

you looked at him softly.

"i mean, you understood me. you didn't care what baggage i had. sleeping beside you that summer was the first time i'd gotten real sleep in a long time," he admitted. "you made me feel safe... the way you'd laugh, the way you'd touch me, all of it,"

he's drunk. he's drunk. he's drunk. he's drunk. you repeated to yourself over and over. despite the feeling of your chest being ripped apart, you knew he couldn't actually mean it. yes, you loved him—more than you ever wanted to admit. but he didn't feel the same, he had showed you that much.

"let's get you to bed," you whispered. comfortingly, you grabbed his forearm and helped him up.

he followed you up the stairs, before quickly entering his dorm with him. you laid him gently on his bed, sliding his shoes off. he looked relieved that you were there, despite everything in your body telling you to just leave. he had hurt you before, he was cruel—so why were you still helping him?

you noticed him close his eyes and you turned to leave, but he sat up and grabbed your hand. you turned to him.

"i still get nightmares, especially after we broke up," he admitted. you knew about these. they were scary and heart wrenching to watch him experience. you couldn't imagine actually having them.

"will you stay until i fall asleep?" he whispered softly.

every logical part of you was screaming no. telling you to leave and not look back. but the part of you that cared—that loved him, was begging you to stay.

and unfortunately, that part that was begging won.

"yeah, sure," you whispered. you sat beside him on his bed. you folded your legs to the side and held his hand tightly as he closed his eyes.

within minutes he was asleep.

you admired him quietly as he slept. his chest rising and falling, his perfect features relaxed in a perfect way. a part of you could stay like this, watching him, forever.

but then another part of you remembered what he said—and you knew he'd never feel for you what you felt for him.

with a frown, you slowly let go of his hand and stood up—making your way quickly out of his dorm. silently, you made your way back to the slytherin dungeons, trying to ignore your heartbreak.

——

a week had passed since your incident with sirius. you had hardly spoken to him and he agreed with you it seemed—because he hasn't talked to you much either. sure, there was a snarky comment here and there, but other than that, you two managed to stay your separate ways.

you chuckled quietly, shaking your head as evan and regulus argued playfully. pandora sat beside you, rolling her eyes at the two.

lunch was soon ending, leaving you and evan to have to separate from pandora and regulus soon. you two shared a herbology class, despite him being a year younger than you. he was rather smart, doubling up in certain classes to finish them easier.

"bye, you guys," you chuckled, as you and evan walked side-by-side toward the greenhouses. you quickly pulled your emerald green tie out of your bag, tying it around you neck swiftly.

you and evan linked arms after, continuing your way to class. if it was one thing you two had, it was the ability to talk about anything and everything that had little to no importance.

"yeah, and then i told my dad—" evan began.

"y/n!" a familiar, now sober voice called out. sirius quickly walked over, as you and evan stopped and turned around. evan gave you an alarmed look but you looked at sirius.

"sirius?" you questioned as he finally caught up to the two of you.

"can i talk to you?" he mumbled.

"about?" you asked, crossing your arms.

"it's important," he assured. "please,"

you rolled your eyes. "fine, what is it?"

he looked over at evan sternly. "leave?"

you stepped in front of evan protectively. he and regulus really did feel like younger brothers to you, now that you thought about it. "don't talk to him that way," you interjected—narrowing your eyes at sirius.

"i'm fine, evan, i'll catch up to you," you said, glancing at evan before looking at sirius pointedly. evan grinned.

"i listen to her because i want to, not because of you," he told sirius pointedly. sirius rolled his eyes as evan laughed and walked off.

you looked at sirius with your arms crossed. "well?"

sirius stood in front of you awkwardly, finding it seemingly difficult to look you in the eyes. "uh, i remembered today what i did,"

you stared at him, urging him to continue. you had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.

"that night at the gryffindor victory party," he added, finally mustering the courage to look you in the eye.

you shifted uncomfortably. "look, we don't have to talk about it—"

he nodded, "yes we do,"

"no, we really don't—"

"well i want to," he said sternly.

"i wasn't lying that day, yes i was drunk, but i meant it, every word of it. the way you make me feel, how safe you feel, everything..." sirius said. "pushing you away was the biggest mistake of my life, i should've never been such a coward,"

"except you didn't just push me away, you said cruel things," you replied. "sirius, you don't get to just drop that bomb on my life after destroying my feelings and expect immediate forgiveness! what you said hurt, it stung even!"

"you made me feel ashamed!" you added, hurt lacing your tone. "do you think i dealt with that easily? i fancied you, and you made me feel like i wasn't worthy of being near you. do you know how that feels?"

sirius pushed your strands of hair behind your ears, cupping your face. "and believe me, i will spend my entire life earning your forgiveness. you were never the embarrassment, i was. i'm so sorry, y/n,"

suddenly, like something had possessed you, you kissed him swiftly. you didn't know you could miss someone's touch so much.

he quickly kissed back. you pulled away.

"you still have to earn that forgiveness," you breathed out, "but this...is a good start,"

he grinned. "believe me, i will work my entire life if i have to," he chuckled, pulling you in for a tight, bone-crushing hug. one that you had missed for months now.

"believe me, i won't make it easy," you smirked.

bonus;

"do you have one in green?" you asked your husbands coworker. you were at a work party and they was handing out party bags, which everyone decided to match to their house while attending hogwarts.

your husbands coworker snorted. "what're you? a slytherin?"

you blinked at him, crossing your arms. "as a matter of fact, i am, problem?"

sirius slid his arm around your waist, kissing your head. "no problem, right alexander? my wife's a proud slytherin, no big deal," he shrugged.

alexander cleared his throat and his cheeks tinted pink. "no, of course not. here's a green one," he mumbled. you took it and he walked off, clearly embarrassed.

you turned to sirius with a smile, leaning in close. "thank you for defending my honor," you chuckled.

"well, anything for my wife," he laughed, kissing you softly.