#the pining is painful to watch for all witnesses involved

[certifiedlesbianvampire]

hear me out: aramata SLOWBURN. i mean painfully slow. it takes them (almost) a whole decade. mainly because i think their relationship needs to develop to where they are both fully comfortable and fully accepting of their relationship, as well as attraction to each other. i think matakara knows he likes arajin already but post-canon it takes a while since they're trying to balance their relationship to be more equal. he also isn't entirely sure if arajin likes him back and wants to let their friendship heal first. arajin is deep in denial about being attracted to men in specific so i think it would take him longer. he'd accept being attracted to matakara first (because over time, i think he'd open up, accept his own insecurities and mistakes more etc) but when it comes to being attracted to men he's used to thinking of himself as straight and gets defensive when questioned so when he actually confronts it years later he'd be like "...wait a minute" the same thing i said about matakara applies here (trying to heal their relationship first before anything else) also they both take their relationships really seriously (implied in this short story) so i definitely think they would have to go through a lot, be certain about it and commit fully.

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 1

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Explicit Content, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Switch Levi (WC: 6.7k)

( Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

-

The first time you see Levi, whispered-about-thug and recently-enlisted Scout, you think he doesn’t seem as scary as everyone paints him to be. Sure, he has a hell of a glare, but that’s not the thing that sticks out.

No, what is most striking is the loneliness.

How alone he looks, shadows like bruises under his eyes.

.

.

.

Levi is lost.

He’s not lost in the physical sense, of course.

Levi very well knows where he is. He has repeated these words to doctors so many times he’s starting to sound like a broken record: My name is Levi Ackerman. I come from Paradis Island. I live in Marley.

No, Levi isn't lost physically.

Rather, Levi is lost in the ways often described in novels. Those cheap-thrill books Erwin liked to read so much, the kind that ensured suspense and chest-clutching moments. Usually, it involved a character going on a journey and finding the thing they lost.

“It’s all a metaphor, you see?” Erwin once pointed out.

But Levi did not see the point of metaphors back then, and he certainly doesn’t get it now.

Levi was a soldier for most of his life: so that he could aid the fight against titans, so that Erwin’s vision to help humanity could come true, so that Hange would not be alone in shouldering the weight of it all, so that the world would not crumble under Eren’s actions.

Now, three years after the Battle of Heaven and Earth, his body is changed, and his mind… well, that's the thing that’s lost, isn’t it? He’s still sane, he knows that, but… there's ways he feels himself slipping.

The first two years after the Rumbling were by far the hardest. There was so much to rebuild, so much to do. Levi spent most of his time in makeshift hospitals and infirmary tents. Then, there were the refugee camps. People who had lost everything, who were in search of a new home, but who lacked the means to do so (Levi never thought he’d have to witness the sight of starving children all over again).

And then, one day, a new start.

Onyankopon was the one who discovered Mare a year ago. He told Levi that it would be the perfect place to retire from his soldiering days. "Mare," Onyankopon said, "is the town where sky meets the sea."

Levi isn’t sure what to make of that idiom: there’s no such thing as a place where sky and sea connect. Another metaphor, perhaps—another thing that flies right above his head.

But he decided to take Onyankopon's proposal there and then; Levi had been idle for far too long, and there was still fire in him, a will to push on.

To keep going, just as he had in the past.

A month later, Levi moved into his new home.

His one-story cottage is located by the edge of town, overlooking a cliff that descends into sandy shores. It is far enough from the crowds, just the way Levi likes it, while still remaining close to all necessities—just ten minutes away from Onyankopon's home.

Aside from that, everything else is just… strangely ordinary.

Because Levi now has a roof over his head. He has a garden, where he grows herbs. A patio, where he watches sunsets. He gets money from Marley for his so-called war accomplishments (accomplishments is a strange word for murder, he thinks). He sees doctors, all kind of doctors—specialists that didn't exist back on Paradis.

What keeps him going through it all are his routines. Levi has always been a creature of habit, and that much hasn't changed in his new life.

There’s tea, for one. Despite all the special blends available here in Marley, Levi still prefers the tea he drank back in the Underground, made from cheap black tea leaves—over-extracted, with no added sugar. Piss water, Kenny used to call it, and maybe the old geezer had a point. The tea is bitter to its core, much too strong for anyone to stomach (“I’m going to be on the shitter for days after this,” Hange once declared after trying it.). And yet, Levi likes it this way. 

There’s his knife, the one Kenny gave him decades ago. Levi still keeps it in his boot or tucked under his pillow. He doesn’t hold it out of sentimentality per say; Levi just doesn’t see the point of throwing it away.

Levi sees his doctor on a weekly-basis, and works part-time at the local carpentry shop. He tries to improve his body on a daily basis, even if his mind fights him hard against it. His leg hurts most days; it’s at its worst when it rains. Over the last year, he’s regained some of his mobility, enough that he can sometimes walk using a cane when his legs aren't too stiff, though most days, he uses a wheelchair. It frustrates him, sometimes, his reduced range of mobility—he misses pushing his body to the limit—but the physiotherapist ensures him that he is just where he needs to be. He feels coddled, and that annoys him.

Then, there are the people in his life. Scarce as they are, they are all that is left of his past and Levi clings onto scraps of conversation where he can find them.

Most of the brats of the 104th are living their own lives. Levi is relieved to see that. When the war ended, he worried that they would linger too much, but they never did. They moved on.

Falco and Gabi, rowdy kids they are, travel from Liberio to see him. They tell him about what they’ve been up to, how Falco is taking flying lessons, how Gabi is part of a youth association that’s going to make Marley a better place, and Levi listens. For Gabi and Flaco love to talk, and perhaps even more than that, they love to bicker. Levi thinks if there’s such a thing as religion, that these gods clearly have a strange sense of humor—making him watch teenagers and their clumsy flirting attempts all over again. But they’re good kids, and Levi looks past their worse transgressions because he knows he’s got a soft spot for them.

Onyankopon is another familiar face—a talkative one at that. Every time the man stops by Levi's house, he brings something new to show Levi. Sometimes, it feels like Onyankopon's on a personal mission to get Levi up to speed with the new world. Coffee, typewriters, vinyl players… there doesn’t seem to be a thing Onyankopon doesn’t want to show him.

All these machines are met with a somewhat lukewarm reception on Levi’s part.

All except one.

Because if there's one invention Levi is inclined to think is useful, even if a part of him equally loathes it, it's the telephone. Onyankopon was ecstatic about it, and his enthusiasm eventually rubbed off on him too. It's not that Levi likes to use it—the sound waves, the grated voices… they remind him of the sound of planes and machines, of war and guns, and that gets his heart palpating to the point where he sweats (because Levi’s learned that with his growing age, his body sweats faster than ever before, so much so that Levi sometimes has to wash twice a day).

But the first time Levi hears a familiar sound—your voice—on the receiving end of the telephone, his breath stops. His clammy fingers tighten around the phone, and he glances at Onyankopon, who only gives him a thumbs up in response, two dimples appearing on his lifted cheeks.

Levi decides then that the telephone might not be so bad after all.

“Levi,” your distorted voice sounds from the other side. “Can you hear me?”

At first, Levi doesn’t know what to say. He’s seen phones, of course; he remembers Hange using them to communicate with Zeke and the Azumito clan. But he never thought he’d use them personally, and that makes his brain go blank.

“Shit, I think I lost you,” you say, the sound of crumbled papers resonating across the line, “Jean, I think the tele-thing you gave me isn’t working properly. Can you—”

“Hey.” Levi’s voice bleeds into the machine, rough like sandpaper. “I can hear you.”

“Oh, good, I thought I wasn’t using this correctly. Gee, isn’t this just unbelievable? Onyankopon promised me he’d work to set up a phone line in your house, I’m so glad it worked! I know these things are costly but, you know, at least we get to talk, even if it’s brief. Of course, I’ll still write you letters on top of that! And hey—Levi, are you still with me?”

He almost smiles. “Yeah, dumbass. You’re the one going on a monologue.”

“I’m just excited! Can you blame me? I haven’t heard your voice in… a long time.”

Levi’s heart jolts in his chest, clinging to the fact that you’re excited to hear him, but mourning the time passed since he last heard your voice. He’s all aware of how long it’s been (347 days, by his account).

“I can’t wait to see you next month,” you add in a lower voice, as if you were trying to whisper into the phone, words only meant for him to hear. It makes them all the more precious. “I’ve… missed you, 'Vi.”

Levi’s throat feels thick at he hears your familiar nickname for him. His mind buzzes with words, words he has long thought about, words he wishes he could tell you.

I’ve missed you too. I want to see you again. Please come back to me.

All things he thinks to himself, but doesn’t say out loud.

Instead, he manages a breathy, “Yeah,” because more feels impossible right now, especially with Onkyankopon so close by.

Besides, he wouldn’t want you to hear those words over a machine. Communication tool or not, it still lacks the physicality Levi desires so badly.

“How are the brats doing?” Levi asks instead.

“Oh, they’re good! Armin cut his hair recently. He looks like a blonde mini-you or err… I suppose he’s taller than you now.” If you were standing by his side, Levi would definitely have glared at you. But you chuckle, oblivious to his souring mood. “Guess he always did admire you a lot; I think he’s learned a thing or two from your leadership style.”

“That so?”

“Yeah, he’s cool. Doesn’t glare at everything that moves like you, though.”

Levi clicks his tongue. “Still haven’t lost your shitty sense of humor, I see.”

“Hey, you always found me funny.”

“I never laughed.”

“But you always found me funny—I could always tell.”

“Delusional thinking can get you a long way.”

“Anyway.” You huff with an indignant tone. “Aside from that, Reiner and Connie have changed a lot too! Reiner is still pining over Historia…”

“Disgusting. She’s a married woman.”

“Yeah… weird, right? I keep telling him to move on, he’s got so much going for him now. But he’s hopeless like that, they all are. Besides that… well, Jean grew his hair! Think he’s secretly trying to impress someone. He’s applying pomade and everything.”

He hears the sound of muffled protest, “I am not, Doc,” blending with your sentence. It is followed by your hearty laugh as you seemingly tell Jean to bugger off.

“That aside, they’re all good. Growing into real adults, you know? It feels like yesterday I was doing their first medical checks... just stupid teenagers. Your old Levi squad, huh?”

The second Levi squad, he wants to correct.

“Yeah, sounds like they’re still a real handful,” Levi mutters.

You chuckle. A comfortable silence follows, one that reminds of old times—you and him sitting in front of the fireplace; him reading his reports, you drawing. The cracking of the phone lines almost sounds like splitting logs now, and Levi feels warmth spread from his lower belly to his torso.

He hears your breath through the phone, like you were leaning closer. “Hey, so… less than a month, yeah? You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I told you already, didn’t I?”

“Because if it’s too much, you can still say no.”

“Adler, I promised I’d take care of you all, and that’s gonna be the case until I’m buried below ground.”

“Don’t speak like that, Levi! It’s morbid.” Levi hears the sound of your laughter again, ringing across the phone line. He wonders if your eyelids are crinkling, the way they always do when you laugh too loudly. “But, hey, thanks. I really appreciate your help, you know.”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder what it is like, your new life.”

“S’nothing special.”

“Sounds to me like you’re still selling yourself short.”

“And sounds like you’re still talking nonsense.”

After a year of not seeing each other, you are finally coming back to Marley.

You are finally coming back to him.

Levi wonders what you will think of all the ways he’s lost.

.

.

.

Section Commander Erwin Smith seeks you out in the infirmary. Says there’s a wound he wants you to check, one he supposedly got during the last expedition.

You don’t tell him that titans don't usually cause hand wounds.

“I have the new recruit’s file here. You might have seen him around. His name is Levi,” Erwin says after some time. You give him a succinct nod. “I’d like for you to keep an eye on him.”

You pause, eyes shifting away from your stitches. Erwin’s gaze is even, clear.

“What do you mean by that, sir?”

Erwin leans back in his chair. “Presently, Levi is flighty and hot-headed. He’s just lost his friends. And he refuses to get a medical check. As it stands, this won’t work—I need to know that his condition is stable to place him on my squad.”

“With all due respect, most of these duties you’ve listed fall outside my medical jurisdiction.”

“I know.”

You raise a brow. Erwin shoots you an eyeless smile. You finish the stitch. Erwin pulls his hand back, admiring your work, then his focus shifts back onto you.

Waiting on your answer.

You finally supply him with one, sighing, “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

Erwin stands, interlinking his arms behind his back. “I should tell you he’s from the Underground. Will that be a problem?”

“No, sir." You stand up as well. "Though… knowing this, permission to speak my mind?”

“Please.”

“May I ask what’s so… special about him? If rumors are to be believed, you went through quite the trouble to get him.”

“I didn’t think you listened to gossip, Dr Adler.”

“I don’t. But if that wound on your hand speaks for the labors of your efforts… well, I think I have cause to worry.”

A low hum vibrates out of him. “What’s so special about Levi, you ask?” Something lights up across Erwin’s face. The intensity of the pendulum swinging his way. It is followed by the type of smile that makes his eyes crinkle. “I want to believe Levi can change the fate of humanity.”

.

.

.

Today is the day.

The morning shines brightly over the little town of Mare, an endless cerulean that speaks of summer and new beginnings. The sun peaks over the horizon, lingering where the sky meets the sea, a ripple of lavender and peach glimmering over the reflection of the water.

At this time of the day, the wind is at its strongest, a breeze that blows the long strands of grass to one side. Beyond the valleys, there's footsteps dotted across white beaches, only to be ushered out of existence as the waves rolls in.

Mare. Home.

This little town was nothing but fire and dust three years ago. Today, everything has changed. Houses have been rebuilt, trees replanted, and life has begun sprouting again.

Levi wonders what you will make of it.

He spent the first hours of the day cleaning his one-story house from floor to ceiling—a painful undertaking for him, nowadays. The cleaning material stings his bad eye; the positions he has to adopt to clean makes his leg hurt.

But cleaning has always helped to ground him, and that much hasn’t changed here.

Luckily, he wasn't alone in his task.

“Yo, Levi! You ready?” Onyankopon calls out. The man came early to help Levi get the house ready; he’s now come to drive Levi to the train station.

“Yeah.”

Levi grabs his favorite cane, an elegant stick made of thick wood from up north. For the occasion, he’s wearing his nicest navy suit, silver cuff-links, and a matching hat—a gift from you, something you bought him the day the Survey Corps first set foot in Marley. You thought it suited him and Levi’s inclined to agree: he doesn’t look half-bad.

The drive to the train station is uneventful and quiet. Onyankopon asks him if he is nervous, which Levi vehemently denies. His friend just smiles after that with a knowing look like he knows better, but beyond that, he leaves Levi space to gather his thoughts.

Levi is glad of that. He needs the silence to gather his thoughts.

After a year of not seeing each other, he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely.

Will you be happy to see him?

It’s ridiculous, really, all this uncertainty. In all his years as a captain, Levi never stopped to linger on hesitations, on regrets. No matter what it was—grief, rough expeditions, political coups—he trusted Erwin; he trusted his comrades. Levi trusted himself.

That it would be you, now of all times, who makes him this nervous, seems a strange twist of fate. Perhaps it is his growing age that has turned him into a sentimental fool, perhaps it is the knowledge that it is you, perhaps it’s because Levi doesn’t quite know what to do with himself... but Levi feels restless.

It took Levi by surprise, your letter. Three months ago to the day. Can I stay with you, Levi? you'd written. Just for a little while, until I figure out what it is I want to do next.

You were gone for a year, helping the Alliance become delegates of peace, while still updating Levi on everything. Now, Armin and the rest are ambassadors, and Levi no longer needs you letters—he gets to read all about their exploits in the newspaper.

And yet, he's glad you never stopped writing to him. Levi will never admit it, but he’s kept every single one of your letters in a box under his bed.

Yeah, old age has turned him into a real sap.

Following all of this, it was decided: of course you could stay with him. Yes, he would help you. When it came to you, there was little Levi wasn’t prepared to do.

With Falco’s and Gabi’s help, Levi made sure everything was well-suited for your arrival. He purchased a bed, a night table, and a wardrobe. He built you a desk, with the help of his boss at work. All of it was arranged into the spare bedroom of his house.

Levi remembers Gabi teasing him. “Is she your sweetheart, Mr Levi?”

Levi scowled at the teenager. “No.”

“S’just, it’s an awful lot for an old comrade.”

“Shut up, nosy kid.”

But Gabi raised a point. What were you to him, exactly?

Levi doesn’t know the answer to that question, not exactly. He considers all the people he’s cared about in his life, and he still falls short in finding the right word to describe what you are. He cares for you, that much he knows—he’s cared for you for a long time. It isn’t the same care that he feels when he thinks of his mother, of Isabel, of Furlan, but it’s just as deep. Love, some might call it, but Levi has seldom witnessed it, so he doesn’t know what to make of his feelings.

He supposes if he had to label what the two of you are, it’s connected. Remnants of an old system, a memory of a past when all that mattered was reclaiming the Walls. Two survivors who carry the legacy of those who sacrificed themselves for the cause.

Not that defining it truly matters. Levi’s long accepted his role as the one to carry the torch. He has found stability and peace this way.

Only, Levi wants more for you. Even if it means being far away from him.

Yes, it will have to mean being far from him, won’t it? He’s too broken for it to be any other way. He knows that. And yet, it doesn’t stop that tiny wisp of something he sometimes feels in his heart at the thought of you—like air, it fills his lungs, begging to be ignited (if you would choose him, he thinks it might).

But Levi’s life was always that of water, and he knows he will drown you if you come too close, like everyone else he has cared about.

.

.

.

You glance at the injury on his forearm, gushing red. Those damn cadets, ganging up on the new recruit. Erwin’s gamble won’t pay off if everyone else is hostile to his new prodigy.

“Hey. It’s Levi, right?”

Levi’s gaze flickers to yours and you realize it's the first time you're up to close to him. His eyes are striking. Freezing gray, like pale moonlight.

“Who the hell are you?” he mutters with a deep baritone.

You give him your full name. “But I actually prefer to be called by my last name, Adler, if you don't mind.” His face stays blank. You sigh. “Listen, Levi, I don’t want to butt into your private affairs... But I just came to tell you this: any injuries you sustain, just come to me, alright? I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night, or if you have to drag yourself across snow. Because... the only death I accept from a Survey Corps soldier is that of titans. Anything else is unacceptable. Okay?”

"Please. Those cowards were outclassed. They only landed a hit 'cause they played dirty."

"Even so. Don't let that deter you from seeking help," you say. "That said, you have my word.  Those cadets will be punished for what they did to you."

“Yeah, whatever.” Levi glances at your hands for some reason— transfixed by the way you press on his wound with a clean cloth. “So, what, you’re a doctor? You heal people?”

Your lips tug into a half-smile. “I certainly try.”

.

.

.

The train groans as it comes to a stop. Levi knows you dislike trains; even on Paradis, when Hizuru helped to install train tracks across the island, you had blanched at the idea of riding in one.

So Levi isn’t too surprised to see you step out of the train carriage on wobbly feet, your face a little grayer than he remembers it to be. He takes a step forward, walking into the smoke hissing from the train, avoiding the throngs of travelers passing by. He removes his hat, just to make it easier for you to recognize him.

As soon as you do, your expression lifts.

That smile.

Levi could see your smile for the rest of his life and never tire of it. He hasn’t seen it in a long time, and it tugs at his heart, like a bird flapping its wings.

That you choose to run towards him—your travel bag swinging against your hip, arms dangling by your sides—is no great surprise. If there is something he knows about you, it is your never ending supply of excitement. It makes him want to smile back, but his mouth slightly parts instead.

“Levi,” is the first word that greets him, that swirls through the air and fills his lungs. You seem to catch yourself just a breath away from him, rooted to the spot in front of him. Levi blinks, wondering if you were about to hug him. But then you dip your head down, coy amusement on your features. “It’s really you.”

Levi swallows loudly. He can hear his heartbeat climbing to his head, and he wonders if you somehow can hear it too.

“Your hair has grown.”

Oh, that.

Yes, his hair has grown, hasn’t it? In the last month, he’s only kept up his undercut; the top is getting longer now. He knows he should get a haircut, but he's experimenting letting it grow.

“It looks good… it suits you,” you tell him.

The coil in Levi’s stomach tightens. He shields his expression by tilting his head and placing his hat back on his head. 

“Hey, um…” you let your voice trail off.

“Just spit it out, Adler.”

His peripheral catches a crooked smile. “Would it be alright if…if I hugged you?”

Oh.

That certainly isn’t what Levi expected you to ask. No, Levi feared there might be something wrong with you, or rather with him. But he didn't expect… that.

In his stupor, Levi is too stunned to say anything, so he manages a nod instead.

(He’s grateful you ask before you touch him—you always ask.)

And unlike your earlier display of excitement, full of frenetic energy, your hands treat him with more care. They interlace gently around his back. Levi feels his chest lock as your fragrance sweeps across his brain. The scent can only be described as one thing... Home. Levi grows stiff, not knowing what to do with his hands, so he just lets them dangle along his body. You stay put just for a few seconds longer, and when you break apart, there’s something akin to relief on your face.

Relief for what, he doesn't know.

Your hands linger on his forearms as you take the sight of him fully in like you were committing him to memory. “Just needed to do that. My brain can’t make sense of the fact that you’re really standing in front of me. Like you’re not a figment of my imagination, you know?”

Levi’s gut reaction is to glance down. He doesn’t want to see all the ways you inspect him, all the ways he falls short of the portrait you have of him.

His face hardens and he takes a step back, sheltering himself from disappointment.

“C’mon,” he mutters. “We’ve been standing here long enough.”

“Alright,” you answer in a tone that’s no less bubbly than before. “Show me home.”

As you walk in tandem, away from the train tracks, Onyankopon comes to greet you. He envelops you into a hug where he lifts you off your feet. You chuckle, patting his shoulders, and when Onyankopon’s eyes find Levi’s, there’s a glint in them that Levi swears is speaking volumes of Onyankopon’s thoughts.

A look that seems to indicate: Should’ve kissed her, you damn fool.

Levi promptly ignores that look. Instead, he sets his glare in an altogether different direction.

The walk back towards the car is painful and slow. Levi tries not to let it show, but coming with his cane instead of his wheelchair really was not his brightest idea. He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation shooting up in his leg; his knuckles turn white the more he leans on his cane.

You take notice.

“Is your leg hurting?” he hears you ask.

Levi dismisses your concern with a one shoulder shrug. “S’fine.”

It’s not fine. Levi overexerted himself with cleaning today. The sun is too strong. His leg is stiff.

Despite that, Levi has no intentions of telling you all about that, because you have a tendency to care, to shower him with attention he doesn’t want, and right now, he just can’t deal with it.

You stop right in front of him. “Hey, are you sure? I can—”

“I said it's fine, didn't I?”

Levi's ears are ringing as he steps past you.

Shit, shit, shit. He didn’t mean to snap at you just now. He’s just no good at this, don’t you see? Already five minutes in, and he feels like he fucked up.

(It's like there's poison on his skin; Levi wants to peel it off.)

But you don’t even seem to pay his temper any mind, as you hum and turn to look at the train station’s newsstand instead, allowing Levi to swallow his shame. From the corner of his eyes, he watches as you purchase three lemonade bottles, which you hand out to them.

The drive back is filled with more words than the journey here. Onyankopon and you engage in easy conversation, talking about all manners of things—how the 104th brats are doing, how the world is looking three years after everything that transpired, how Onyankopon’s husband and family are faring.

Levi sits in the passenger seat next to Onyankopon while you sit in the rear. That doesn’t stop you from leaning forward, your hands resting on the head of the seats as you talk (“Put your seat belt on, Adler.” “It’s on!”). Occasionally, your fingers even tap his left shoulder, a heads up for you to point to interesting things you notice outside. Levi tries to ignore the sparking sensation that’s engraved in his skin.

(Sometimes, Levi wonders if your touch is actually electric.)

“What about you, Levi?” Levi feels your attention settle on the back of his head, drilling heat into his nape. “What do you make of your new home? Mare, the town where the sky meets the sea.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. And he means it—the town is just that. Fine. “The townsfolk are nosy, you’ll fit right in.”

You hum. “Consider my interest piqued. I can’t wait to see your new life.”

New life. Is it really?

“I’ve never started over. Not like this,” you continue, tone thoughtful now. “I mean, I suppose I did, once. The last time was when I first enlisted for the Survey Corps a decade ago… phew, that brings back memories. I remember the looks I got from everyone then—they all thought me very strange to enroll.”

“That’s because you were a suicidal maniac, enrolling to save the lives of soldiers who’d soon be titan fodder. Normal civilians usually have safer aspirations, Adler.”

“I’m not sure if you’re one to talk, Ackerman.”

Levi huffs at that. The portrait that flashes through his mind is vivid, as were the words that went alongside them: Him, the gangster from the Underground and you, the crazy doctor crazy. A pair of strange misfits, the Survey Corps' gamble.

Now, you are the only survivors of something long gone.

“Oh, Walls!” You’re gasping at something behind him, and Levi glances up to see what you’ve seen. It’s the sea—all shades of blue and as mesmerizing as ever. “This is where you’ve been living? Your descriptions in your letters do not do this place justice.”

“What? You expected me to turn into a poet?” Levi grumbles.

“No, but look at this—ugh! It’s everything. The valleys! The beaches! The bay! This feels just like…” you let your voice trail off, not finishing off your words, but Levi knows what you meant to say.

This feels just like the way it was when we first saw the sea.

And yeah, Levi sees your point. The sea here truly does glimmer like jewels, the way Armin always described it, and the breeze does carry that scent of salt that feels like it’s cleaning the air out of his lungs.

Just like it felt to witness it the first time.

“This must be what paradise looks like,” you say.

And just as they pass a curve of the road, something new comes into view: between the soft clouds, a flying boat appears—not one carrying weapons, but instead, carrying with it the tale of a youth whose only sin was a passion for flying.

.

.

.

The medical check is done in silence.

Levi is underweight. His lack of sun exposure has left his skin and eyesight sensitive. You prescribe things to help, though you think some ailments might be a lifelong battle.

When it comes to checking his heart rate, however, that’s when you realize the full extent of Levi’s upbringing. Levi undoes his shirt and your eyes take in the cost of his survival—Levi’s torso, marred with scars. Some of them seem recent, while others are old, stretched-out skin that tells you enough.

These come straight from his childhood.

Just how much violence has Levi witnessed in a single lifetime?

.

.

.

“So?” Levi asks, looking directly at you. He leans his weight against the door’s frame leading to your bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest. “You can redecorate if you like.”

“Why would I do that? This is perfect.”

Levi thinks you might be touched, but he isn’t sure—he was never good at reading your more subdued emotions. Anger, sadness, happiness: those, he can read. Everything in between becomes more complicated, especially with his mind trying hard to convince him that all you see is disgust when you look at him.

You continue to step around the furniture of your bedroom, inspecting it like you are discovering details of a new kingdom. Your fingers fumble over the bed frame. “These bed sheets are my favorite color.”

Levi knows. He picked them for a reason.

(He’ll never tell you as much.)

“There’s drawing supplies in the desk drawers,” he supplies.

He hears it then, the way you suck-in your breath, catching it in the back of your throat. He swerves his attention onto you, only to find you fixing the desk with a stupefied expression.

“You remembered?”

There’s bewilderment in your tone.

Why do you seem surprised? Isn’t this the least you deserve? Levi almost says that there is even more—that he has all your sketchbooks from Paradis, that they were recently delivered by his request. But he abstains from it. He thinks it might be too much right now, though whether it’s too much for him or for you, he’s not sure.

Instead, he just replies gruffly, “It was hard to forget.”

You take a step towards him, eyes softening. “Levi, thank you so much.” You gesture at the room. “For all of it.”

Somehow, those words make Levi want to look away. It isn’t that he doesn’t appreciate you expressing your gratitude, but he’s never known what to do with it served on a silver platter. He prefers to ignore it when he can.

“S’not a big deal.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, glancing towards the carpet on the floor. “Couldn’t let you starve on the streets, now, could I?”

“Hah. I don’t know.” You move to the windows, your fingers winding around the beige curtains. Levi wonders what you think of the softness of the material. “You might be underestimating me. I can be very persuasive; I’m sure I’d manage to survive out there.”

“Please. You wouldn’t last a day out there.”

You scoff, feigning offense. “And why not?”

“You’d want to help some poor fucker giving you puppy eyes, and they’d just end up mugging you.” Or worse.

“Well, alright. You got me there.” You glance away, raising your fingers to run along the scar on your cheek.

Levi follows your movements, studying the way your hands conceal your old injury. He wonders if it still hurts, if you forget it is there only to be reminded of its existence when you catch your reflection in the mirror.

It happens to him, sometimes.

“Seriously, thank you.”

The softness of your tone cradles his ears. Levi takes a step back.

“No need to get emotional on me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle. “Still. Sometimes, it’s good to say things out loud.”

“If you say so.”

Levi turns around, fumbling with the handle of the door to swing it open.

But just as he’s about to head out, to leave you to unpack, there's a clear sound comes from the other side. Levi hears that familiar "Meow," before he sees the tabby cat sliding in between the cracks of the door.

“Oh... what's this?” he hears you stutter behind him. 

Right. Levi probably should have mentioned this minor detail in his letters.

“Scout,” he supplies, eying the kitten currently rubbing her head against his right leg, a loud prrr vibrating against his calve. Three months ago, the cat was nothing more than skin and bones. Like a rat. Now, she’s healthy again, her limbs growing quicker than Levi anticipated.

“You… you got a cat?”

"Clearly."

"Like a pet?"

Levi crosses his arms over his chest, tapping a rhythmic beat of five counts against his forearm. “Do you need to get your eyes checked or what?”

You ignore his surly attitude, the same bafflement still present in your tone. “And you named him Scout?”

“Her. She's a female cat.”

You look down at the cat for a moment, your eyes wide like saucers. Then, with a low, hushed tone, you let out a strangled, “Walls, you're a cat dad,” before pinching your lips tightly, like you were trying very hard not to burst out in fits of giggles.

Levi’s jaw instantly clenches. “Stop laughing.”

“I wasn’t laughing!”

“You were about to.”

“Yeah, alright, I was about to.” And then, as if saying those words out loud gave you the right to do as you please, you stifle out a snort, shooting up a hand to cover your half-contained laughter.

This time, Levi doesn’t bother hiding his glare.

Paying this interaction no mind, Scout looks at you with a quizzical stare, her big, green eyes taking you in. Just like you, the feline creature is now discovering the new room and the furniture that goes with it, and she now seems to want to understand what to make of the new occupant that is to share this space.

And so, with a last parting mrrp, the cat skitters towards you, her fast steps tiptoeing against the oaken floor. In response, you crouch down, outstretching a delicate hand in Scout's direction.

With a combination of grace and suspicion that only cats are really able to muster, Scout sniffs your fingers, her slit pupils observing your every movement.

Whatever she was looking for must have pleased her, because not a moment later, she lets out a high-pitched mewling sound and rubs her cheeks against your digits.

A smile forms on your lips.

And when you look back up, there’s a sparkle in your eyes that makes Levi’s heart skip a beat. "Oh, she's cute," you coo, scratching Scout's chin. "How old is she?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't ask?"

"I don't speak cat, Adler."

"Oh, right. She didn't have an owner?"

"No. She was alone when I found her."

"Oh."

Levi had found the kitten half-dead under some debris; no one in town knew where she had come from, or how old she was. Most likely, her mother had abandoned her, but it was hard to know for sure.

All he knew is that the kitten had been alone, and that was enough for him to want to help the kitten. Taking her in was only meant to be temporary thing.

And yet, here she still was.

"Well," you interrupt his thoughts, head tilting as you inspect Scout, "I reckon she can't be more than four months old."

Levi lets out a grunting sound, not really knowing enough about cats to refute or agree with your observations. Instead, he half-turns away, grumbling parting words, “I’m gonna make us some tea while you unpack.”

His peripheral catches your hand gently gliding along the cat’s spine. “Your bitter old tea, huh?”

He means to ask if you’d prefer something else, but it comes out all wrong: “Got a problem with that?”

Shit.

Your eyes lock with his.

And your smile widens.

“Not at all. It just feels like being home.”

Levi clears his throat and turns away. Home. Is it really like that?

No, of course, it’s not.

Home doesn’t exist anymore.

And he’s not the same man you once knew.

-

A/N: This story has been in the works for the last year, and it's been a very precious project for me. This fic seeks to shed some light on Levi's life after the war, with its ups and down - but ultimately, it's a story of love and healing <3 Furthermore, English isn't my mother tongue, so you know the spiel - don't hesitate to let me know if you spot mistakes, but pls be patient!

( Next chapter / Join my taglist )

[artsninspo]

"WHISKY, NEAT" - Rio X Reader

Summary: A follow up of "Baby-Girl" where the reader is Stan's younger sister and meets Rio at Ruby's place. Some time has passed and Rio shows up at your job asking for a whisky, neat.

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Black Reader

Word-Count: 1.3K

Read Part 1 Here

Full Masterlist

RIO MASTERLIST

Smiling, you look up at Rio, the seemingly dangerous stranger from Stan’s & Rubys place. You’d asked your big brother about the charismatic stranger that spent his time around the core three girls and his response was ‘stay away’. It wasn’t what you expected. If he wanted you to stay away wouldn’t he have the same advice for Ruby? He’d always been a good brother. You weren’t surprised in the slightest when he became security and then a cop. Protective instincts were something he’d been born with. Wiping off the bar you glance at the clock. Twenty-five minutes until closing. Only the absolute worst patrons come in at witching hourt. You know it’s no coincidence he’s here either. He’s too cool and confident to walk into your bar twenty five minutes before closing, and on the night you work.

“What’s your poison?” You ask.

“Whisky, neat” he says and you smile reaching for the top shelf. You pour generously and he tosses a hundred onto the pine.

“What’s yours?” Rio asks.

“I only drink to get the party started. The party’s over” you comment and it comes out flirty. You can’t help it, you’re attracted to something about him. The look in his eye says the feeling is mutual.

“Look, I’d love to play this thing up with you but Stan told me to stay away. Stan doesn’t tell me what to do often so I’m inclined to listen.” You tell him drying off a glass as you begin stacking them for closing early.

“I don’t know what you think this is but I’m just here for a drink, baby girl” Rio rasps in surrender, his innocent eyes juxtaposed with his cunning smirk.

“Perfect” you nod, taking his rejection in stride and he laughs showing off pearly whites.

“I mean hypothetically, if I was here to flirt, am I your type?” He asks  leaning in and you realize his voice has a lot to do with your attraction to him.

“Hypothetically?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Hypothetically” he repeats in affirmation oozing confidence.

“Absolutely” you affirm. Rio looks shocked. “I have a rule about staying away from my type. As much as I enjoy the adrenaline it’s not good for anyone involved” you speak the truth. The air sizzles between the two of you.

“Why’s that?” Rio asks, taking your rejection well and you smile, liking him a little more.

“Heart damage” you say plainly and he looks around.

“So you like dolling pain out with a smile huh? Liquor for the liver and heartbreak” Rio flirts back impressing you with his quick draw wit.

“You can take it” you wink as he takes a swig of his whisky.

“Y/N it’s quiet you can take off early I can clean up” the owner says misinterpreting the situation.

“Thanks boss,” you smile, cashing out. You make sure your money is good before turning back to Rio. “Goodnight” 

Heading in the back you have an argument with the angel on your shoulder trying to convince you to do the right thing and follow Stan’s advice. Switching out of your bartender outfit you put on a sweatsuit and head out back. Security stands around waving as you head out front to meet your driver. Rio is standing against his G-Wagon as you get the text from your driver saying he’ll be five minutes late checking your watch, you remember you’re done early.

“Need a ride?” Rio asks.

You both know if you get in that car the only thing you’ll be doing is riding him into the leather. You aren’t convinced he can handle you but, you are convinced he’s packing heavy artillery. The kind that does all the work for him. With all the confidence you suspect he’s a lazy lover and if he’s as big as you assume it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Only, guys with egos as big as his don’t like to be fucked, they like the control and ego trip of loud moans and expressive love faces. It would be a face off, a clash of wills and the idea in of itself excites you.

“No” you smile, listening to the angel.

“Just a ride” he shrugs.

“You were just drinking” you remind and he walks a straight line to demonstrate sobriety.

“How many fingers?” You ask.

“Five, three, one” he responds accurately. His smug smile says his point is made. He does nothing in a hurry, all his movements are slowed like he commands time itself.  His eyes sparkle under the fluorescent light and yours do too fighting temptation. Your phone burns a hold in your hand. You want to message your driver to cancel and take Rio up on his implied offer of one good night. It’s been so long you deserve it.

“Come on baby girl, let me treat you like it” he whispers, moving your hair off your shoulder as he looks down at you. As much as you want to be one of the other girls who gets to experience the charismatic, dangerous and alluring stranger you resist remembering Stan’s words. 

“Why are you here?” You ask, trying to kill the chemistry.

“Kept thinking about you, did some research, found out you work here and here I am?” He shrugs. You don't know whether it's a point or a red flag.

“What do you do for work” you ask, trying to kill your interest in him.

“Entrepreneur” Rio responds.

“Why do you know Ruby and her friends, really. I don’t buy the whole soccer dad thing.” You respond, voicing your hesitations out loud.

“You don’t care” Rio chuckles, making an accurate observation. It’ll be nothing special. You text your driver you’ll be late and open the door to Rios truck getting in the car. He smiles, shutting it behind you. You open the glove box to get condoms but a gold gun shines within it shocking you. Your jaw drops as a soberingly good reason to stay away from him glares back at you. Spontaneous sex with a stranger is dangerous enough, automatic weapons that are clearly personalized is where you draw the line. Shutting the glove box you look at Rio, unable to ignore what you just saw.

“Changed my mind” you say once the door is open again, you hop down suddenly acutely aware of your surroundings. Rio curses himself punching the wheel. He needed you to run him dry. To see the strained looks on your pretty face as he digs you out. It’s been awhile since he’s had a genuinely satisfying conquest. A woman that isn’t inhibited sexually and excites him. One that gives as good as she gets. 

Watching you walk away takes a lot out of him. He never chased women but was considering it. The chemistry between the two of you is too solid to willingly discard. Starting the car his pride loses to his lust as he pulls up beside you topping down the window.

“Carjacking is big, it’s for safety” Rio lies.

“Don’t make me lose respect for you now with a  lie” you tell him heading to the back entrance.

“Stop storming off, then” Rio says and you stop.

“I’m not a bad guy” he says but you highly doubt that.

“Large amounts of cash, one. My brother says stay away, two. Let’s not even count you showing up here. A gold weapon, three!” You snap.

“The fact that you’re not scared tells me you can handle it” Rio says goading you. Smiling, you shake your head at how he’s missed the point.

“The name Rio is another red flag” you add. “I’m going to follow my gut, so drop it?” You tell Rio bitterly and he sighs. You continue walking away.

“Y/N, hey!” He shouts and you turn.

“Call me Christopher,” he says, making you smile. The irony is not lost on you. It’s the quintessential biblical name.

“Goodnight Christopher” you concede.

“Nite” he sighs, still turned on. Swallowing the bitterness in his throat Rio drives off heading to find Beth.

Next Part

_________

Authors note: If you're reading this thank you for all the love on Part One, its slowly keeps getting love and I really appreciate it 💖🥰. Let me know what you think - comment, like & reblog. Muah, xoxo.

[grantspectortrash]

You're Wet Paint

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: an English assignment means you reveal your truth to Steve. This fic involves angsty pining, best friends and a pain that is slowly healed. (The title makes sense once you read the fic, I'm not just weird, promise.)

Word Count: 5.5K

A/N: There's a few more Steve fics to come, hope you’re as excited as I am <3

-

Hawkins is dark. It’s ten at night on a Sunday and you have your bedroom window open, the February winds fluttering your curtains and making your toes feel numb.

You wish Steve would hurry up.

It wasn’t that he was late or anything, the boy rocked up to your house whenever he pleased, but it’s cold and you’re tired. Plus, your patience is wearing thin. The quicker he got over here the quicker things would be over with, and you could deal with the consequences.

You’re on your side, your body facing the window and your arm outstretched on the bed, as if hoping you could reach him from there. You close your eyes and try to count down from ten, praying that by the time you get to zero he’s clambering through your window. But, it doesn’t work.

It takes three times, and you’re nowhere near zero, when you hear the tale tell signs on rubber soles on bark. You were pretty sure your parents heard it too - they often asked by Steve didn’t just use the front door when the pair of you hung out, but you insisted that he found it “more adventurous” hoisting himself up into your bedroom practically every night like the little ninja he said he was, using the elm tree as his climbing frame.

Your parents didn’t mind of course, they’ve known Steve all his life and the pair of you had been inseparable ever since you figured out how to walk and talk together. He was your best friend, for life.

“Hi, sleepy girl.” Steve’s head appears outside your window and he clambers inside, head first. He’s wearing a grey hoodie and black track bottoms and he tries not to drag mud onto your carpet as he kicks his shoes off.

“Hi, Stevie.” You prop yourself up on your elbow, watching as he shuts the window for the night. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He lifts up the sheets as you untangle yourself from them and he slides in next to you. He smells cold, and he feels it too. Menacing fingers creep towards you and you bat him away.

“Enough. You warm up and then it’s time to work.” You snuggle closer to Steve, trying to warm him up. Both your heads are on separate pillows, each of you respecting which part of the bed is who’s, but as he lies on his back you chuck a leg over his and place a hand on his chest. “Tell me why, exactly, did we have to work on your assignment so late in the day?”

Steve stifles a yawn and runs a hand through his hair. His other hand is resting on the leg you’ve placed across him.

“Well my morning consisted of taking the boys to the arcade, then I had to drop Lucas off at Max’s. I swear those two are so adorable and annoying it’s actually painful. Then there was this lunch for the swim team guys, you know, after winning the gala and all. And I had a date this evening, so yeah, I was fully booked. Honestly, I don’t think she liked being ditched for homework but, you know. Whatever.”

Oh how could you have forgotten? You chest tightens slightly at the mention of the word, and suddenly you feel cold. You take your leg off of Steve.

“Oh right, too busy hooking up with…who was it?” You fake an act of casualness. You’d spent your whole life hearing about Steve and his string of girls. You had finally thought he’d settled down when Nancy came along, but the fallout of that had been hard to witness. He had slept in your bed almost every night for weeks on end after their breakup and while Nancy was off with Jonathan, you had to pick up the broken pieces of Steve that she’d left behind.

And for a while, it worked out alright. Steve and you would hang out almost every day doing all the things you’ve enjoyed doing together since you were kids - movie nights, walks in the woods, going to the arcade. Then, when Steve finally realised he was over Nancy, he decided to start dating again. As if being single and just spending time with you wasn’t good enough. Now it was a new girl every week, hell even more than one a week. It was hard to watch.

“Her name’s Helen, remember? I think you guys have chem together.” Steve turns on his side to face you and taps you on the nose, which earns a smile from you.

“Yeah, of course. Cheerleader girl, always pulls that face when they throw her up in the air?”

“She does not pull a face.”

“She does,” you counteract, “The next time you watch her actually look at her face, not her body.”

Steve smirks and reaches over to you, pulling flyaway hairs from your face and tucking them behind your ear.

You wish he wouldn’t do that - talk about the girl he’s dating and then touch you like that. For him, if meant nothing. And to you? It was everything. You close your eyes, careful not to reveal anything about how you feel.

“Anyway sleepy head, it’s assignment time.” Steve is obviously warm enough as he flings back the covers and sits up in your bed.

You want to stay led down, with your eyes closed and with the idea that Steve is just staying the night because he wants to, not because he wants you to write his English assessment for him.

He prods your cheek with a finger and you open your eyes at him. Now that he’s sat there patiently, and not climbing through your window or tucked up in bed, you can see the love bites on his neck. There’s two of them, all red and shining under the light of your bedside lamp. Steve notices you’re staring and runs a hand over them, giving you an apologetic smile.

“You’re looking at me funny,” he states, “I know you don’t like hickeys.”

You roll your eyes, “It’s not that I don’t like them, Steve, it’s just…”

You get out of bed, throwing the sheets back and picking up an empty note pad and pen from your desk. When you turn back around to Steve, he’s smiling.

“Nice jammies.” He nods towards you, drinking in the sight of your Christmas pyjamas even though it was the start of February. “And it’s just what?”

You set the pen and pad down and sit down on the bed. “It’s just that all these girls brand you like a piece of meat, like you’re theirs, when they know full well they’ll be into some other guy next week.”

It feels good to say it, but you also feel a little guilty. You’re sure somewhere under all the makeup and popular-girl facade some of the girls Steve dates might be nice, and actually care about him, but you doubted that most of them gave Steve a second thought when they moved onto the next.

Steve takes the pen and taps it to his lips, “So, you’re saying Helen’s a slut?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“No.” You frown immediately, “I didn’t say that, that’s not what I meant.”

The pen is dragged across Steve’s bottom lip, highlighting how pink and soft they look, and then he beams at you with a cheeky smile. “You’re so cute when you lie.”

“Shut up!” You yell-whisper at him, hoping not to disturb your parents too much. “This is so not why you’re here, so let’s get on with it.”

You grab the notepad and open it to an empty page.

Your English assignment was a fairly easy one. You had been studying love poems all semester and now you had to write a poem of your own. It was due tomorrow, and each one of you had to read your poem to the class. You were being graded for originality and your skills as a poet, using linguistic devices and creating a sense of character. The only piece of information you were given is that the assignment had to be titled “Love smells like…”

As soon as you had received the assignment you’d written it in the back of Steve’s car while you had waited for him to finish basketball practice. You'd been staring at his bubble-gum air freshener for inspiration when he had banged on the car window. You'd dropped the pen into the footwell and screwed the paper up in a ball as quickly as you could. It had sat in your back pocket the entire ride home, and you had fought back tears until you got to your front door. If he suspected anything suspicious about your behaviour that day, he hadn’t mentioned it. You'd swiped the pen back from the backseat the next morning.

Since then you had neatly written out your assignment, and now it was out of Steve’s reach.

“Right, smarty pants, what should I write about?” Steve takes the notepad from you and writes the title of the assignment at the top. He’s hunched over on your bed, one leg slightly crossed over the other and his left arm braced against the bed for support. You sit beside him, careful to create a small gap between you.

Usually, you’d practically be sat on top one another, but the mention of the date and the sight of love bites on his neck gives you a reason to stay away.

Steve puts a hand on your knee, “Hey, Earth to Y/N?”

“Sorry.” You pull yourself out of your thoughts, faking a smile for Steve, “Just write how you feel. What does love smell like to you?”

As soon as you answer Steve moves his hand away from you and you miss the touch almost immediately.

“I dunno.” Steve twirls the pen around in his hand, staring at the blank page as if the poem is going to write itself. “Like bacon?”

“Bacon?” You pull a face, “Stevie, that’s shit.”

Steve smiles, “Yeah I guess.”

You yawn without meaning to, the air escaping from your mouth before you can stop it. Steve clocks it and glances at his watch. It’s barely gone eleven o’clock.

“Right, you, you know what? Fuck the assignment. I’ll make it up on the spot. Sleepy time?”

You’re about to protest about how important the assignment is, and that he’ll struggle to make it up on the spot if he has no idea what he’s talking about, but part of you is relieved. Relieved that you won’t have to hear about his feelings, and how he feels about love - whether that’s loving Helen or Nancy or whoever, you didn’t care. A part of you was just glad not to hear it.

When you yawn again in response Steve shuts the notepad and throws it on the floor, the pen flying after it. He moves back the sheets and slides in, snuggling down instantly.

You look down at him, the way his body is hidden in the sheets and his hair is splayed across the pillow. He wriggles slightly, getting himself comfy, and looks up at you. “Aren’t you getting in? Or am I sleeping by myself tonight?”

Steve’s comment receives a smile and a shake of the head before you scoot inside next to him. The switch to the bedside lamp is beside you and you flick it off.

You lie down and try to keep a little distance between you. Truthfully, you feel stiff as a board, as if all your muscles have tensed at once. You’re not sure if it’s because of the hickeys, or because of the assignment tomorrow, or both. Whatever it is, it’s making you feel somehow off, and you can tell Steve is noticing it.

You’re led on your back when Steve turns towards you and wraps an arm around you, dragging you towards him. Instantly you turn so that the pair of you are spooning, and Steve doesn’t take his arm off of you.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” He whispers, the faint heat of his breath fanning the hair by your ears.

He’s warm, and you can feel him breathing against your back. Steve was always one to cuddle you in his sleep, not that you usually minded. Tonight though, it just seems to hurt.

“I dunno, sorry.” You lie through your teeth knowing that in the dark, facing away from him, Steve will have no idea how far from the truth your answer is. Your feelings for him had been brewing for too long, slowly building and bubbling up inside you until one day it had become too much. And of course you couldn’t tell him, it would ruin everything. So, you suffer. You suck it up and you suffer, because that’s what good best friends do.

“Don’t apologise,” The arm that’s around you lifts and Steve begins to stroke your hair. It makes you smile, but also brings tears to your eyes. You close them, fighting back the flood. “Just sleep, yeah? M’sure you’ll be fine when you wake up.”

-

Your alarm blares and you wake up fast, smashing the button to turn it off. And Steve was right, you were fine...for a total of two minutes. As soon as you've woken fully you realise the other side of the bed is empty and your room is cold - the bedroom window is open again and Steve has gone.

The notepad that was on the floor is now on the pillow beside you, the pillow that still has a Steve-shaped dent in it. There's a quick scribble on the pad: Needed to shower & get changed, see you at 7:30

He's signed it 'Steve' like he always does when he writes you notes and you smile slightly - as if anybody else would be leaving notes on your pillows at this time in the morning, or ever.

That morning you get ready the same way as always. Quick shower, changing into your clothes, sorting your hair, breakfast at the dining table with your parents and then cleaning your teeth before waiting for Steve to pick you up. You do all of it but your heart's just not in it.

You don't bother waiting for the hot water when you shower. You put barely any thought into how you look. You barely speak to your parents, even when they mention they heard Steve coming in last night. You wait for Steve, wishing he doesn't arrive, and wondering does your bag really feel heavy or is it the weight of knowing your poem is tucked way in there, revealing all of your truths?

A horn beeps outside and you try to shake off the feeling. You put on a smile and shut your front door.

Steve is smiling at you when you get in, his hickeys are barely hidden by the shirt he's wearing, "Sleep well?"

You nod, "Yeah, you? What time did you leave?"

"Yeah perfect sleep. There's something about your bed, y'know? I left like half six. Was just awake so," Steve shrugs, and the conversation dies.

You can tell he's not buying your 'everything is fine' act, but you don't have the energy to keep it up. Without meaning to, you've made today the biggest day of your life. Today would make or break your relationship with Steve but you couldn't help it - you had written your assignment easily, because to you, loving Steve was easy. You just hope he's either stupid enough to not understand it's about him, or stupid enough to feel the same way about you.

When Steve parks up at school he glances at you with worried eyes, "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, peachy. Honest." Another lie, but it was better than telling the truth.

Steve is staring at you with his puppy eyes, all brown and wide and full of concern. He goes to say something, stops himself, and then the school bell rings. You look away from Steve before he can continue whatever he was going to say, "I'll see you in English, yeah? Stay cool, Harrington."

You get out of the car in record time, just needing to get away.

"Yeah, okay. See you."

You're gone before Steve can even follow you.

English is your third lesson of the day and, miraculously, you manage to not see Steve until then. You had maths first, then chemistry. And Steve had been right, you and Helen did have that lesson together. While you sat at the front, Helen sat in the back sporting a bright pink, striped tee and pink lipstick. You tried not to pay any attention to her, but you could feel her eyes on her, you could hear her whispering about how good a kisser Steve is. You'd left the lesson as soon as the bell rang, and then the dread set in.

Steve was waiting for you outside of your English class. "Hey, Y/N, you okay? You don't look good."

"I'm fine," You whine, hoping to get him off your case, "Just hay-fever or something."

"Hay-fever? In February? You're full of shit."

The pair of you are by the doorway, with other students walk between you to enter the class. One of the swim team passes you and high-fives Steve, exchanging greetings with goofy smiles on their faces, but when Steve turns back to you he's frowning.

"I'm keeping my eye on you." He squints at you, almost comically, then nods towards the classroom, "Shall we see how bad my poem goes then?"

Luckily for Steve, he doesn't need to read his poem today. As soon as everybody's sat your teacher announces the names of the students that will read their poems, the ones who didn't get called get to read theirs during your next English lesson tomorrow. Today, you're the last person who has to read their poem.

Steve, who sits two rows ahead of you, turns and gives you a thumbs up. You give a weak smile in response.

Eight people present their assignment before you. One girl explains how love smells like a JCPenney's, because she loves clothes. Another has written about how her boyfriends smells; the pair of them had been together four years already and it was unbelievably heartfelt. One guy says love smells like cheeseburgers, which gets the class laughing. And one of the basketball team lads recites how love smells like a basketball - it's comical and cheesy and it's definitely exactly what you had expected from him. Two others present their assignment, then, your name gets called.

Your throat is dry and your tongue feels thick in your mouth. You slide out from your desk and stand at the front of the class, the piece of paper with your poem written on it clutched in your hands - not that you needed it, anyway. You'd practically mesmerised it the first time you'd written it.

"Uh, this is my poem 'Love Smells Like'..." You speak to the class, not trying to direct it to anyone in particular, and definitely not trying to look at Steve.

"I used to think love smelled like home-made cookies and my mother's shampoo. It used to smell like motor oil and my dad's hugs after his bike rides...until that all changed. Now, love smells like chlorine. It's silly, I know, but it's true."

You smile a little, trying to give meaning behind the words. You still don't look at Steve, even when you can see him in your peripheral vision.

"Love smells like lemon popsicles and sun cream on a summer's day. It smells like a house full of coconut and coffee and a car with a bubble-gum air freshener."

You can't help but flit your eyes across the class. When your eyes land on Steve's, only for a second, he's already looking at you. You don't bother wasting time trying to figure out what he's thinking, or wondering whether your class knows you're talking about Steve, you just drop your gaze and carry on.

"Love smells like him, only his scent has been tarnished by another girl's perfume. I can't say anything because this love is not mine."

A shaky breath, then, "It smells like the back seat, and the cinema and the pool and the arcade. It smells like every single place I have fell in love with you. But to you, love will smell like her and it will never smell like me."

Tears are prickling at the back of your eyes now, you can feel them. There's a lump in the back of your throat and you find yourself grinding your heels into the floor as hard as you can, just to get this stupid poem over with.

"Love smells like fear. Because it's intoxicating and addictive all in one. But I'd rather live with it than without it, because I love the smell, even if you don't."

As soon as you stop speaking two things happen at once. Steve is grabbing his bag, is on his feet and out of the door before anybody can even say anything, and the bell rings for lunch.

You look over at your teacher, suppressing the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks and onto your assignment. You pass the paper to them, and they give you a small smile.

"I feel as though some truths have been revealed today. Class dismissed."

After that lesson you leave the class with your head down and tears wetting your eyelashes. You hear someone make a comment about your poem, obviously being mean, and you're practically heartbroken.

You spend lunch alone, choosing to sit outside in the February cold while everybody else is keeping warm in the hallways and the cafeteria. Steve's car is parked a little way in the distance and you get the urge to go over and beat the ever-loving shit out of it until you're broken and bleeding. But, you don't.

Instead you sit and cry and pick at your sandwich and by the time lunch ends your eyes feel puffy and you know people will stare. You don't care. You just go to your lessons, almost in a daze. In the hallways you don't see Steve, and part of you is glad. The other part of you is hurt, bad. Throughout your lessons there's a tight pain in your chest and you truly believe that your heart actually aches.

It takes forever to get to the end of the day, but by then you're determined to avoid Steve. He had made it pretty clear how he felt about your feelings, the way he had flung himself out of the classroom the first chance he got. If he was so disgusted with the idea of loving you then fine, that was how it was. Things were over. You'd never hang out with him again and you'd live your lives without each other. Fine.

As you leave the school grounds you decide you're walking home, but when you look over at the parking lot Steve's car is already gone - guess he wasn't going to give you a lift anyway. Like you said, fine.

You walk home alone, and no matter how many times you tell yourself it's fine, no matter how many times you try to convince yourself now that you hate Steve and that you're an idiot for even thinking you were in love with him, you can't help but cry the whole way home.

After school you do nothing but cry and sleep. Your parents try to comfort you but it's no use, especially when you lie and just say you feel ill. They leave you to it after that.

That night you leave your bedroom window shut, and have a restless sleep. You toss and turn and have bursts where you cry, each time for a different reason... I'm so stupid for saying how I feel, Steve is stupid for being so mean about it, why doesn't he love me, why do I love him, I wish things could go back to the way they were... the thoughts never end. Only when you tire yourself out from hours of torture does sleep visit you.

-

You wake up early that morning, purely by coincidence. It's still dark out but you decide to make an opportunity out of it - there's nothing that a chilly morning walk couldn't solve. Your head hurts from the crying and your eyes are red but you're not going to let that stop you. You take a painkiller and wash your face, trying to compose yourself and look a bit more presentable. You were not going to become one of those girls who moped around being depressed because Steve Harrington rejected you. There were far too many girls like that already, a testimony to Steve's brutal dumpings and his womanizer status.

In a thick jumper, a scarf and jeans, with your school bag already packed, you're out onto the streets of the Hawkins suburbs before your parents are even awake. At one point you end up walking past Steve's house. His bedroom is at the back but you could see that behind closed curtains the front room light was on. You know at the minute Steve's the only one home, so either he left the light on or him and Helen have been getting it on on the Harrington family couch. You push the thought aside and keep walking.

Steve's car isn't there when you get to school, and you have to remind yourself that you don't care anymore. Where Steve is, or where he isn't, didn't matter to you. You try so hard to believe that, you really do.

English is your fourth lesson of the day and you don't see Steve once before that. You're convinced that he's not even come in to school, but again, it doesn't matter...right? He doesn't matter, at this point those three words are like a mantra in your head. If you say it enough, surely it'll come true, like a wish.

You keep up the "I don't give a shit" façade until you see Helen in the hallway during lunch. She's bawling her eyes out, her eye-makeup smudged and completely ruined. You're wondering what's happened when she make's eye contact with you. Her tearful eyes change instantly, and she's staring daggers at you in an instant. She mutters under her breath as you pass, "Fucking Harrington...I can't believe it."

Her comment leaves you confused, and a knot in your stomach begins to grow. What on Earth did Steve say to her to grant that reaction? Did he tell her about what you said? Had he ended things with her?

By the time the bell goes for your fourth lesson you're practically ready to throw up. Whatever idea you had of pretending Steve Harrington didn't exist has flown out the window and as you take your seat you find yourself staring at the door, willing Steve to walk through it. And he does.

He's wearing that red jumper that you like with blue jeans and his well-loved Nike bruins. You'd told him to get a new pair ages ago, but had he listened? Of course not.

You're not sure whether to look at him as he sits down, and you know the class is watching the pair of you like hawks, ready to catch any drama that might unfold. So, when you look up as he gets closer to you, you're surprised to find him already looking at you. Steve gives you a small smile and it almost seems apologetic. You frown, your eyebrows dipping ever so slightly, and avert your eyes.

Ten people get to read their poems today and, naturally (as fate would have it, you suppose), Steve's name is called last. The nine people who present their assignment before him actually do a good job - some are heartfelt, some are funny, and given how the last twenty-four hours have been, one nearly makes you cry.

When the ninth person is sat in their seat, and there's only fifteen minutes left of class, the teacher looks at you before looking at Steve, "Last but not least, Mr Harrington."

Steve stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans before he picks up a piece of paper and stands at the front of the class.

"Uh, this is my poem. Love smells like." Steve coughs, shuffling about on his feet as if he's not sure what to do. For someone who's the swim team captain, and plays basketball, and goes on billions of dates and seems to exude confidence, the guy is nervous up there. Despite yourself, and your failing "I don't care" attitude, seeing him like that warms your heart a little. He's cute when he's nervous.

"I, uh, think I must have a blocked nose." Steve says, and most of the class release a suppressed laugh in confusion, "Because I didn't know what love smelled like."

You're surprised he's even written anything for the assignment, let alone tried to make it comical and just so...Steve. As you watch him up there your old worries come back to haunt you; you didn't know if your hurting heart could take listening to him talk about how love smells to him, especially if it was about another girl.

"You see, it's hard to know what love smells like when you've been surrounded by it for so long," Steve goes on, "It's like being-nose blind. It's like being in a room with wet paint, only I've been sat in the room for so long that I've forgotten what wet paint smells like."

You didn't realise Steve could be so poetic. Of course that was the whole point of the assignment, but still, you were impressed.

"So, love smells like wet paint. It smells like summer and elm trees." The mention of elm trees have your nerves rocketing sky high. Was it coincidental, that the tree he used each night to reach your window was an elm? Did he even know that?

Your questions are answered when he continues his poem. When he states love smells like the same scent as your shampoo, and your favourite flavour of chips. He talks about lemon popsicles, the same way you did, and he explains at length the scent of the peppermint cream mice you make together each Christmas.

In short, you can't stop smiling. And the more Steve talks the more he looks at you, and the more you're both smiling at one another like the stupid idiots you are. The class is watching, witnessing one smile to the next, like it's a tennis match.

"Like I said, I must've had a blocked nose. But, I can smell it now. I know exactly what love smells like."

Steve finishes his poem and the class actually claps. You're blushing, feeling hot all the way from your cheeks to your toes even if it is still February. Steve's looking rosy too, but he doesn't care. He just basks in the glory of the applause, his basketball teammates all yelling and hollering with excitement.

"Took you long enough, Harrington!" One of them yells out and even your teacher laughs. The bell rings and they clasp their hands, "Class dismissed. Nothing like young love."

Your class all pile out of the room, and you linger until Steve's packed away. The pair of you walk to the doorway together, neither of you saying any of the things you want to say.

"So, Helen?" You ask, the humour evident in your voice. You both come to stand in the hallway. Steve runs a hand through his hair before leaning against the wall, a playful smile on his lips.

"Definitely not Helen." He replies, "I told her last night it was over. And then I spent all damn night writing that. So, yeah."

"Yeah. Impressive." There's so much more you want to say, you just don't know how.

"I'm sorry about yesterday. Hell, I'm sorry about every day. I've been a total jackass." Steve's smile drops, and he pushes a stray hair behind your ear as he apologises to you.

"I know." You pause, then, "I mean I know you're sorry, not that I know you're a jackass. Whatever, I just guess after so many years of girls pining over you, I thought you'd know exactly what it looked like." You laugh, "And you know, I've never had the balls to say anything so it's equally my fault."

"No," Steve shakes his head, "It's never your fault. I promise. Like I said, I was nose-blind."

You laugh, a full, loud laugh. Most of the hallway is empty now, with people moving onto their next lesson. You didn't care if you were late, this conversation was everything you needed.

There's a small beat of silence, and when you look into Steve's eyes the pair of you smile in sync. It feels good to have your best friend back. It feels good knowing that he's yours, in a sense that was way beyond just friends.

"So," You say, your smile widening even bigger, "I'm wet paint?"

Steve laughs, "Yeah, you're wet paint."

He closes the distance between you and plants a kiss on your forehead, and it's everything you had hoped it'd be.

[starskyandbarnes]

To Be Her

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky is one of your best friends, he also happens to be the man you’re hopelessly in love with. The problem is he has a girlfriend and now is the time to swallow down your feelings for their sake.

Warnings: Angst, pining, unrequited feelings

Word Count: 817

Author’s Notes: I’ve had this kind of idea in my mind for awhile. And I wanted to break in my new writing sideblog so, expect more stories like this. Lol. Thank you for reading, I appreciate feedback and criticism. <3

It would have been less painful if someone had just carved out your heart and placed it in the palms of Bucky so he could squeeze it until it was no longer beating. It would have hurt less than having to witness your best friend gush over his beautiful girlfriend Nea.

He was hopelessly in love with her, just like you were hopelessly in love with him. His reactions around her were the same for you whenever you were around Bucky. He was always smiling, always laughing, he was happy and you would never do anything to take that away from him, even if it meant you had to swallow down your feelings for him and accept he would never love you the way you needed and wanted him to.

You wouldn’t be the friend to destroy his happiness. And you wouldn’t be the friend to walk away because in truth, Bucky always reminded you just how much he needed you and he still made lots of time for you so you could watch movies together, or go out for a hot coffee and talk about nice things.

There was nobody else on the team that you were close enough to do this with. Bucky was your best friend, and you might have needed him just as much as he needed you. He was your breath of fresh air.

Bucky and Nea were so in love and they had been together for almost 3 years at this point. 3 years in and they were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. You knew how healthy their relationship was and yet you were still surprised when Bucky wanted to go for a coffee one day to ask for your help.

You should have seen it coming, and yet it was like he punched you right in the gut and you felt nauseous as soon as the words spilled out from his lips.

“I want to propose to Nea.”

Your silence kind of threw Bucky a curveball. For the past three years you’ve been nothing but supportive, but your silence was unexpected.

“Y/N?” You blinked at him and swallowed the lump in the back of your throat, mustering up the biggest and fakest smile you could achieve and hoped for the best.

“Sorry, I’m just– I’m just so happy for you!” You really weren’t. This was your nightmare that became a reality. This was the day you had been dreading because no doubt he would want you at said wedding and for you to be as involved with it as much as possible.

“Really?!” He grinned happily, his long fingers wrapped around his mug. “I’m just not sure how to do it, or where I’ll do it.” Your thoughts were racing, it was so difficult to think, so difficult to breathe.

“Uh— where did you meet? Maybe do it at the location you met with candles and roses. Something romantic.”

“That’s a good idea, maybe I could do it in Central Park.” He wondered, taking a sip of his coffee.

“No!” You interjected, “everyone proposes there. You want it to be romantic right?”

Bucky thought for a few moments and nodded his head in response to your question.

“Right so if it was me, and this is just my view,” you chuckled nervously, “I would want a beach proposal.”

“A beach proposal?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. Of course this is something you’ve been thinking about for a very long time. A daydream you’ve envisioned for so many years, the day you met him to be exact.

“Yeah. I would want a dinner on the beach, just before sunset with lots of candles, wine, just me and yo— my partner, the love of my life against the world. Then just as the skies were changing into oranges, pinks and yellows, that’s when I’d love the actual proposal. Under the sunset.”

“Wow.” Bucky breathes, taking it all in. He didn’t seem to notice the mild slip up. Or if he did, he didn’t say anything. “Sounds like you should be the one being proposed to.” He laughs through his nose and you join him so you don’t feel too awkward about his statement.

“Yeah, but I’m not. You are and really Buck, I’m really happy for you.”

Bucky smiles and locks eyes. He’s grateful he has such a wonderful friend like you in his life.

“Thanks doll. It really means a lot, and don’t worry I’m sure you’re going to find your Prince Charming soon enough.”

Little did he know, your Prince Charming was sitting right in front of you, about to propose to the love of his life and there wasn’t a damn thing you couldn’t do about it but to keep your chin up and swallow down the bitterness you were feeling in your chest.

It was going to get a lot worse, that’s for sure.

[uwuwriting]

Soulmates w/ Dabi, Shirakumo and Keigo

Request: Hello! I just read a few of your writings &I'd just like to say they're amazing! Anyways, may I request some hc's for a soulmate AU w/ Dabi, Shirakumo, & Hawks?(all separate)- anonymous

Soulmate Aus have a shit ton of tropes so I went for a different trope on each boy bc I love them all. My man Dabi has dipped the last few chapters and I’m getting kinda deprived, although I appreciate him not burning my baby Shoto to a crisp so we good. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: angst with some fluff

 Dabi/Todoroki Touya II Interchangeable eye color

-Dabi’s outlook on love is really negative. 

-Growing up the way he did and in the environment he did, the possibilities in him believing or cherishing love and soulmates was low. 

-When he got his soulmate sign he was around 12. 

-It was the darkest moments of his life and he hated himself to no end. 

-When he woke up on that fateful Sunday morning he thought that he was hallucinating. 

-Then he imagined that this could be an after affect of his trauma, just like his hair. 

-His mind though drifted to his soulmate. 

 -He didn’t have a mark up until now and your eye color changing was one of the many soulmate signs out there. 

-As he stared at his left eye, the e/c orb staring back at him, he began to cry. 

-Sobs wracked his body as he clutched his eye. 

-This was unfair. 

-He shouldn’t have a soulmate, what good could he be to anyone?

-He is a failure and he is gonna bring down his soulmate as well. 

-So he hides it. 

-Puts a patch over his eye to conceal the new color blooming around his iris and when his family starts questioning it he buys contacts. 

-Natsuo helps him even though he doesn’t understand why his brother doesn’t want a soulmate. 

-Years pass until he finally meets the person that has changed his life. 

-Shigaraki was being a brat as usual, whining about needing new members for his little group. 

-Dabi couldn’t care less.

-This  whole charade with these losers would only aid him reach his ultimate goal. 

-He didn’t care about Shigaraki’s shitty ideologies and otherworldly desires, he just wanted his revenge. 

-His eyes scanned the so-called hide out in utter boredom, his gaze landing once again at the bar’s door left slightly ajar in case someone came looking. 

-He didn’t expect for the door to open though. 

-And as the grease old door creaked open a figure stepped into the room, clad in black from head to toe. 

-A mask was covering half of your face leaving only your eyes visible. 

-You scanned the place before your eyes landed swiftly on him, knocking the breath out of him as you locked gazes, e/c orbs baring into his own. 

-The vibrant blue on your left eye had him gasping for air. 

-It was stunning. 

-You moved to talk to Shigaraki, your voice albeit monotone and cold, sent tingles up his spine making his hairs stand at attention. 

-His eyes were glued on you, one of his hands subconsciously going to the left side of his face where his mark should be visible.

-It felt as if his contact burned his eye and he quickly took it off, not minding about possible infections since he didn’t wash his hands before touching his eYE DAMMIT YA NASTY AF. 

-His body was drawn to you, his mind screaming at him to talk to you to go close to you. 

-You knew he was your soulmate. 

-You had known the moment you stepped into the bar; no one had such a beautiful blue hue in their eyes other than your soulmate. 

-Despite your mutual desire to be close to each other you  held off for months. 

-Months of keeping distance, months of giving each other the cold shoulder. 

-It would all reach a tipping point soon and Dabi would finally understand what it’s like to truly love someone. 

-Until then though, suffer in your mutual pining. 

Shirakumo Oboro II Red string of Fate

-The string around his pinky finger always lay motionless for years. 

-It was slack and lifeless, no sign of his soulmate being remotely alive. 

-It really worried him, he thought that he might be one of the few unfortunate individuals who didn’t have a soulmate. 

-He talked to his friends about it and they all reassured him that his soulmate was just too far away from him so even if they tugged at the string he wouldn’t be able to feel it. 

-This reassured him all throughout middle school. 

-He started getting a little discouraged when he saw all his classmates getting their soulmate signs whether it be names tattooed on their wrists, one of their eyes changing color or a strand of their hair, other could hear faint music if they concentrated hard enough while others were unfortunate enough to feel their soulmate’s pain. 

-Shirakumo was left staring at the red string surrounding his finger. 

-He had thought about tugging at it, making the first step instead of waiting for the person on the receiving end.  

-But on this day, the day when both Aizawa and Hizashi got their respective signs he found himself tugging at the string. 

-At first he pulled lightly watching the string grow taught slowly and then go slack again. 

-He waited for what felt like a century before tugging again and again, more force being put in his pulls every time. 

-After an hour of waiting and tugging he was done. 

-Eyes downcast with a frown on his lips, he was ready to let this whole soulmate thing go. 

-At the end of the day he doesn’t need the universe to tell him who he should fall in love with; who he is destined to be with. 

-Then he felt it. 

-The lightest tug at his finger. 

-His eyes followed the red string as it straightened a few times before going limb again. 

-Aizawa walked in on him pulling the string like crazy, excited giggles leaving his lips when his soulmate responded with their own pulls. 

- “Shota I did it. T-they answered!”

-This whole string communication business lasted until the first day of high school. 

-As Oboro walked through the halls of UA he felt the string shift on his finger. 

-It was as if it was wrapping tighter around his finger, almost to the point that it hurt. 

-Maybe he was about to meet his soulmate that’s why the string was thinning. 

-Wait, meet them??

-He wasn’t ready to meet them!!!

-What if they didn’t like him? What if his hair was a bit too cloudy for their likes? Oh god his hair must be a mess because he flew here. Maybe he can dash into one of the bathrooms and fix it real quick. Will he be too loud for them? What-

-Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the person standing in front of him and soon he was crashing into them, a small grunt leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to cushion their fall. 

- “Oh God I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Are you alright?” 

- “Why are you apologizing? I ran into you.” 

-He let out a chuckle as you scrambled off of him, dusting off your skirt before offering him a hand. 

-As he took it he felt his pinky being released from the pressure. 

-Right before your eyes you witnessed the red string that connected you both unwrap for your fingers, illuminating for a moment before completely disappearing leaving a sense of familiarity and warmth in its wake. 

-You both stared wide eyed at each other before awkwardly introducing yourselves. 

-It didn’t take long for you two to actually fall in love and if you’re being honest it’s was so easy to fall for him that you believed that even if you weren’t soulmates you would have loved him. 

-Even after years, even after that fateful summer, the sense of his presence and his warmth never left you; it was as if he wasn’t gone and he was still somewhere out there. 

-You were half wrong in that one….I think. 

Takami Keigo/Hawks II Name tattoos

-He got his tattoo when he was 13. 

-It had really awful timing if he was being honest. 

-The hero commission was isolating him completely, even from the few friends he had made around the facility he trained in.

-He couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might do if they find out he had a soulmate. 

-He truly wished he had a different soulmate sign or no soulmate at all. 

-He did everything in his willpower to hide the calligraphy of your name on his left wrist. 

-Bandaging it up, covering it with a watch even scribbling over it like he used to do when he was 9 and bored. 

-But at some point it became harder to hide it, harder to conceal the beautiful name that was printed on his wrist. 

-So he confided in someone. 

-One of the caretakers at the commission had taken him under their wing ever since he was a wittle toddler, he trusted them with his life. 

-When he approached them frantically grasping his wrist in attempts to hide the letters, they were both delighted and saddened. 

-It was nice knowing that this poor child had someone out there that was meant for him and would make him happy, replace every single one of these awful memories with new ones.

-Memories he would like looking back to. 

-But just like Hawks himself they knew that the commission wouldn’t allow this person to get involved with him, at any costs and they knew how far these people could go in order to guarantee Hawks’s undivided concentration. 

-So they helped him; they bought him some make up to cover it up and taught him how to apply it correctly. 

-By the time he was out of the hands of the commission *at least not in close reach* no one apart from them knew of his soulmate’s name. 

- “Now listen here Keigo, I want you to take good care of them when you finally meet them. And never forget that you deserve nice things, don’t let anyone take your happiness away.” 

-He did find his happiness. 

-It didn’t happen right away but it did come sooner than he expected. 

-He had learned about the new transfer student who began attending UA in the middle of the year. 

-He never heard their name but he knew they existed. 

-Turns out they were quirkless but were determined to become a hero despite their shortcomings. 

-After a few months he bumped into them and oh lord his wings have never been puffier. 

-He was  relaxing on the roof, away from prying eyes and loud people, just him and the birds *he found his people at last*.

-When he heard the door open he almost leaped off the building but paused at the sound of a soft voice. 

- “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know someone was up here.” 

-Turning around he came face to face with the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon. 

-For the first time in his life he stumbled over his words, a swift ‘It’s alright’ escaping his lips and before he knew what he was doing he was inviting you to sit with him. 

- “Wow you can see everything from here.” 

- “The view is better up in the sky if you ask me.”

-After a long pause he added. “I could show you if you want.” 

- “How can I trust you? Hmmm?” you teased. “I don’t even know your name.” 

-He let out a chuckle before continuing. “Could say the same for you but since I’m a gentleman I will grace you with my name. I’m Keigo Takami or Hawks if you wanna go with my hero persona.” 

-He saw your eyes widen as you stared at him, your eyes darting to his covered wrists. 

-Quickly you composed yourself straightening your shirt and extending your hand, the black letters of his name delicately engraved on your smooth skin. 

- “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.”  

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @angel6786​

[aitarose]

THORNS | AZULA

PAIRING: Azula x Reader x Zuko [fem]

PLOT: Though Azula always said that she’s never believed in love, she failed to stop herself from falling head over heels for her brother’s betrothed. companion piece to roses; based on these requests by anons

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, unrequited love, mutual pining, somewhat friends to lovers

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

A/N: this connects to the events that occur in roses. this piece can be read as a standalone, but roses gives more detail to the reader’s feelings and relationship with zuko

ALT. END: Blossoms | ZUKO’S POV: Roses

WRITER’S ANALYSIS: Here

MY MASTERLIST

thorns : a symbol of sinful thoughts, extreme sorrow, and hardships. when paired with a rose, denotes both pain and pleasure in the sense of love.

Year one, day one.

Azula slammed her hands onto the skin of her face, repeatedly making contact with her dry cheeks. She let out a deafening scream of anger, punching the wall next to her, leaving a dark black mark in its wake.

She’d been in her room for less than three hours and she was already going mad with boredom. 

The princess huffed, plopping herself down onto the twin-sized bed that was nestled in the corner of her so-called suite. 

She knew that Zuzu had done his best to give her the best commodities the Fire Nation could offer, but her former people weren’t exactly jumping to meet her pretentious living standards. 

Which was actually something that Azula somewhat understood. She knew deep down that what she had done was wrong—trying to kill the Avatar, trying to kill her mom, kidnapping the nation’s children, the whole gist. 

She’d done bad things, some really bad things in her past, but that’s all that it was—her past. Azula wanted to get better, she wanted to be better for not only Zuko, but for herself.

So she and her brother had devised a plan. A plan that would, in its entirety, take five years to complete. 

Zuko was giving Azula half a decade to prove to him that she could be good, truly good. Which to most would seem like quite a bit of time, but for Azula, she didn’t know if it would be enough.

She wrapped her arms around herself, warming her ice cold shoulders. Azula hadn’t been alone with her thoughts for this long in a while—and if she was being honest, there was nothing that scared her more than her own mind. 

“Princess?” She jumped, startled by the frail voice calling from the opposite side of her door. Azula hastily marched to the entrance, yanking it open in annoyance at whomever was bothering her chosen isolation.

Standing before her was a girl about her age, she couldn’t have been older than eighteen. She was holding a tray with various Fire Nation delicacies stacked on top of one another, steaming with heat and the kitchen’s aroma.

Azula rolled her eyes at the sight she was seeing. Of course Zuko had ordered for her to have a late dinner, he’d most likely been preoccupied with all of his new and earned Fire Lord duties.

“Come inside, peasant.” Azula gestured to the small dining table in the center of her confinement. She pulled out a chair for herself and expectantly looked at her companion with the expectation that she’d serve her. 

The other girl hustled, quickly placing the princess’s meal on the placemat and taking the seat opposite to her. She laced her hands together, her fingers tapping the wood nervously.

Azula threw her palms flat on the table. “What are you doing?” She questioned, interrogating her helper, who was cowering in her seat. “Does my brother expect you to monitor my meals? What damage could I possibly do with this slob? Start a food fight in the palace?”

Her uninvited guest took a deep breath, seemingly focusing her stress and fear into the idea of feeling zen. She swallowed hard, her gaze on Azula evolving from anxiety to empathy.

“Actually,” she trailed off, her lips rising into a thin smile. She looked into Azula’s golden eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or rising anger. “The Fire Lord didn’t send me here, his advisors did.”

“The council knows that your brother has a soft spot for you.” She explained, watching as Azula slightly nodded her head along to her words. “Spirits, everyone knows that when it comes to you, he has no reason.”

“I’m only here to monitor and report your progress.” Azula scoffed at the thought of her father’s old council dictating the direction of her own life, but at least they’d sent someone she could relate to. A girl that she could actually form a conversation with.

A scowl flashed across Azula’s face as the admissions her companion had stated ran through her mind. No matter, at least she had some entertainment now.

“Do you have a name?” Azula asked pointedly as she began to pick at her meal. “Or should I just call you ‘Servant’, like I do with all of the others?”

The girl lightly laughed at the unintentional joke, finding humor in the thought of being stuck with the princess as nothing but her worker. She shook her head, smiling slightly, before responding.

“You can call me Y/N.”

Year one, day ninety-four.

“You’re late.”

Azula crossed her arms over her chest, huffing loudly as she attempted to seem angered by her new friend’s timing. She’d become well accustomed to the daily routine they’d developed over the past months.

Seeing Y/N was honestly the highlight of Azula’s day.

She’d never verbally admit that she enjoyed the kind girl’s company. That she felt refreshed by her positive and warm nature, that she relished in the judgement free outlook that Y/N had on life.

And Azula would never mentally admit to herself, that she may have developed unwanted feelings for her friend. 

She always told herself that love wasn’t real. After witnessing the so-called love her mother and father had shared first hand, Azula wasn’t necessarily looking forward to potential love in her future.

No matter who she was involved with.

“Sorry about that Azula.” Y/N hustled through the doorway, her hair tangled and dusted with dirt particles. She had a large scratch on her right cheek, most likely self inflicted. Y/N was clumsy like that.

Azula let out a short laugh. Taking in the appearance of her crush. She even makes dirt look good.

“I was running on time, but then I saw this adorable booth in the market and I just had to make a stop.” Y/N rambled, waving her hands in the air in exaggeration. Her cheeks were flushed red from her sprint through town, resembling the color of a blooming rose.

“As if it matters to me.” Azula shrugged nonchalantly in her best attempt to seem as if she didn’t care about her friend’s dilemma.

As if she didn’t care about every second of her day. As if Y/N’s overall excitement wasn’t the only thing that truly kept Azula going nowadays.

Y/N brushed off Azula’s feigned disinterest as if it was nothing. It wasn’t uncommon for the princess to ignore her daily shenanigans. Most of the time, she felt as if Azula didn’t even listen to anything she said.

Which Y/N had quickly realized not even weeks into their meetings, really really hurt her. It hurt her heart that Azula didn’t care, that she didn’t matter in her eyes.

In their time together, Y/N had developed inklings of feelings for the firebender as well. Feelings that she had come to internalize and push aside.

After all, it wasn’t her job to fall in love with her client. Her job was to help Azula learn to love her own people, to help her gain the love of her people.

“Well, Azula.” Y/N stumbled towards her friend, accidentally tripping over her own feet in embarrassment. She proceeded to hold out a single flower not yet in bloom. 

“This is what the vendor was selling.” She smiled warmly, letting Azula take the flower into her own hands. “It caught my eye, because it reminded me of you.”

Azula studied her gift. It was a red rose, the shade being so vibrant it could be compared to her brother’s firebending. The stem was thin, yet covered in thorns of various sizes. They prickled Azula’s fingers, puncturing her callouses. 

As she gazed at the budding rose, Azula realized how fitting the gift was to her. She had never been the kind of girl who longed for bouquets and sweets, but when coming from the right person, perhaps she was. 

Whilst she struggled to come up with a reply to her friend’s kindness, Y/N mentally applauded herself. She’d finally found a way to make Azula speechless.

“It’s not terrible, I suppose.” Azula threw the flower to the ground, lightly kicking it away from her with her right foot. She turned away from Y/N, not bothering to see the heartbroken look on her crush’s face.

“I’m sure that garbage was all you could afford anyways.”

Azula cringed as she heard the door close lightly. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, realizing that even while upset, Y/N would never respond to her own awfulness with anger.

She felt herself collapse, her knees buckling beneath her. Soft sobs escaped her lips, silent cries filling the hollow room. 

The sorrow-filled girl looked up from her lap with tear-filled eyes. Azula could see the faint outline of the young rose beside her. As she lifted the thorn covered flower with careful hands, she saw what Y/N had meant with the gift.

That Azula was dreadful and hurtful to others on the outside, but when encouraged and supported, she could become something beautiful.

Someone that could one day be compared to the beauty that was of a blooming rose.

As she sat alone, staring at the budding rose in her palms, Azula realized that she would only be able to become that person with the help of Y/N. She was the only person that had even come close to seeing her for who she truly was.

The only person who would think of giving a gift such as this to the princess of the Fire Nation. The only person who Azula had ever come to feel true and honest love towards. 

Azula had to become better. Not only for herself and Zuko—but for Y/N.

Year two, day one-hundred and six.

“Can I ask you something serious?”

Y/N rolled over to face Azula on her side, resting her elbow beneath her chin. She tilted her head while scrunching her nose in thought.

Azula was laying beside her, staring up at the dark vaulted ceiling. She’d been allowed to move back into her old bedroom at the palace with Zuko and his advisor’s permission, after they’d been informed of all of her progress with Y/N.

It was a room where Azula had never truly been comfortable in when she was younger, she used to feel so alone in the spacious and empty bedroom—but with Y/N’s company, she hadn’t felt alone in years. 

“That depends,” Azula responded, crossing her arms over her chest. She frowned, taking a moment to consider what Y/N could possibly ask her. “What is this serious question that you’re deliberating?”

Y/N dropped the arm that was supporting her upper body, allowing herself to fall back onto the soft red carpet. She stretched her arms out, nearly hitting Azula in the process before mimicking her friend’s position.

She let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes tight. Her heartbeat raced in her chest, preparing herself for whatever reaction Azula could possibly have to her curiosity.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Azula nearly choked on air at the sound of Y/N’s words. She had to physically stop herself from bolting upright and leaving the room, before whipping her head around to give her crush a look of confusion.

“Love?” Azula cringed, pushing the thought of the emotion to the very depths of her mind. “That’s what you really wanted to ask me? If I’ve known love?”

The firebender could faintly see Y/N’s head nod in the darkness surrounding them. She lit a single flame from the tip of her pointer finger to get a better glimpse of Y/N’s beautiful face.

She could see the stress in her eyes—spirits, Azula could feel the anxiety rippling off of Y/N’s body in waves. She didn’t know why a question like this could possibly affect her companion in the way it was now. 

She didn’t know why it was affecting her in the exact same way.

“My parents were my only example of love when I was a child.” Azula shared, trusting Y/N with the inner secrets that she’d never verbally spoken before. “My mother left before I knew she even cared for me, and my father..”

Azula trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence. Y/N pursed her lips at the princess’ silence, taking her shaking hand into her own soft palm. She rubbed her fingers against Azula’s, doing her best to comfort her during her confrontation with her past trauma.

“My father was a monster.” Azula grimaced, basking in the feeling of Y/N’s touch. The feeling of being so close, yet so far from the girl she was painfully in love with. “Their love wasn’t real, and I fear I’m so similar to my father that it’ll never be real for me either.”

Y/N gasped in disbelief. “Love is for anyone, ‘Zula. You just need to believe that one day, it’ll find you when you least expect it.”

Azula shook her head, refusing to face the fact that she had her love right in front of her. Someone who would care for her and understand her throughout all of her outbreaks and dilemmas. Someone that would choose her everyday, as long as she’d let her. 

“That’s unfortunate then.” Azula pried her hand from Y/N’s, shivering at the overwhelming feeling of emptiness. “Because I don’t believe in love.”

With that, Y/N was speechless. She’d expected something from Azula. Anything to affirm her suspicions that her crush was in love with her as well—but all she’d gotten in return was an answer even worse than rejection.

Azula groaned, sitting up from the floor and tucking her knees into her chest. “What about you? Have you ever been in love?”

Y/N took a minute to contemplate what she had asked. Azula mentally counted down the seconds of silence that followed her out-of-character question. 

“I think that I have.” Y/N pondered, lacing her own fingers together over her stomach. “But lately I’ve realized that they’ll never feel the same.”

“It’s about time that I move on, isn’t it?”

Azula barely heard the last words Y/N whispered under her breath. Her voice was so faint, it sounded like nothing but an echo in the void. She could tell that Y/N was frowning, but Azula had no idea how to make her smile.

And words couldn’t describe how much Azula loved her smile. There was nothing that she loved more to see. That bright, beaming grin and the gorgeous girl behind it—that girl always being Y/N.

Year three, day eighty-seven.

Azula stretched her arms above her head, the bright sun radiating beams of light around her. She felt a genuine grin spread across her face, brightening her features with honest happiness.

She’d just recently been given the privilege to roam the palace ground freely, and had chosen to spend every single day of the past week in the garden courtyard.

Being surrounded by the tall cherry blossom trees, the whistling birds, and the frail little turtle ducks gave Azula a sense of nostalgia that she never knew she had missed.

She used to shun the memories and longings of her past friends and family members, refusing to accept the fact that she had been the true problem in their relationship troubles. That she had caused all of their strife. 

But now, with the new idea of freedom on Azula’s mind, she finally understood how terrible she’d been. How unfairly she’d treated her peers and the people who had offered her guidance. She vowed to herself to never become that person again, that monster.

“Enjoying the warm weather?” Y/N called from the entrance of the courtyard, a large picnic basket in hand. 

Azula spun to face her friend, laughing at the sight of the mess Y/N had brought with her. She ran over to the girl, instantly taking a hold of the supplies she’d been lugging around with her.

Y/N smiled at Azula, overwhelmed with joy at the sight of her unprovoked helpfulness. She walked with the firebender, taking a seat in their usual spot under the largest pink tree.

She and Azula had grown in indescribable ways in the past years of knowing each other. They’d gone from nothing but strangers, to somewhat friends, and now best friends. 

Azula knew in her heart that Y/N was the only person who was real in her life. The only one who knew her in a way where she didn’t automatically shy away from the boldness and arguably maniacal tendencies Azula had.

She knew that if she ever really had a chance at love, it was with Y/N.

Which was the reason why today was so special for Azula. It was the day that she was planning to finally confess and accept the undeniable love and adoration that she held for Y/N.

“I hope you brought actual food,” Azula ripped off the lid of the basket, peering inside to find all of her favorite desserts made by the kitchen staff. She stuck her hand inside, grabbing a small fruit tart covered in bright red frosting.

“This is so much better than that garbage you gave me the first day we met.”

Y/N bursted out laughing, clutching her chest as her teeth sparkled in the sunlight. She scoffed, stealing the tart out of Azula’s hand, before taking a bite of it herself.

“Sorry, your majesty.” She rolled her eyes in amusement, giggling at Azula’s reaction to her thievery. “I wasn’t exactly allowed to choose what the Princess of the Fire Nation could eat.”

Azula smirked, shooting a short line of fire towards the delicacy in Y/N’s palm, scorching the remainder of the tart and obliterating it to ashes. “Don’t steal my food.”

Y/N blew the dust off of her lap, shaking down her body before smacking Azula’s shoulder. “Well, don’t set my food on fire.”

The two girls glared at each other, refusing to break eye contact in an unspoken staring contest. Y/N struggled to match Azula’s stone cold gaze, blinking hard before being overcome with a fit of giggles. 

Azula felt her cheeks flush red as her crush’s head fell into her lap. She gazed down on the hysterical girl, holding her cheeks between her hands. Before she could speak, Azula saw someone standing in the corner of her eye.

She looked up to find her Fire Lord brother shyly waving at them, one hand raised in the air while the other disappeared in the pockets of his grand robes. 

Her relationship with Zuko had greatly improved since the beginning of their arrangement. While she used to loathe the sight of his scarred face, now she had grown to find comfort in it. They’d finally become the family they should’ve always been.

“Zuzu?” Azula called out, confused as to why her brother was interrupting her time with Y/N. In all the time she’d spent with Zuko, he’d never been around when Y/N was there. “What is it that you need, brother?”

Zuko shrugged, now stuffing both hands into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He stuttered for a moment before pointing at Y/N, who’d just now noticed the prince standing at the distance.

“I need to speak with Y/N,” Zuko slightly chuckled, biting his lip as he tried to suppress a grin. “I have some business that we need to cover, it’ll only take a second.”

Azula had never seen Y/N move so quickly. Her friend was there for one minute and then the next thing she knew, her lap was empty—barren from the feeling of warmth and belonging she’d felt seconds before.

She watched in confusion as Y/N stood before Zuko. Her brother and her crush spoke at a comfortable distance, not too close, but also not far enough. Azula wrinkled her nose in disgust as she saw him ruffle Y/N’s hair, an act that she thought was only reserved for her.

They continued conversing, their voices too faint for Azula to hear. As the ‘deliberation’ concluded, she sighed seeing Y/N turn away from Zuko—only to see him take ahold of her forearm, pulling her close to his body.

Zuko took one of Y/N’s hands in his, before finally revealing what he’d been hiding beneath his robes the entire time. 

He offered Y/N a rose, a somewhat crumpled rose, but a rose nonetheless. It was a soft shade of orange, the petals oozing the same effect as Zuko’s flames. Even Azula could admit that it was beautiful, more beautiful than any flower she’d ever come across.

Azula frowned at the sight of her crush’s red cheeks. Why doesn’t Y/N have that reaction to her compliments anymore?

The princess internally gagged as Y/n reached up to wrap her arms around Zuko’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug before pressing a light kiss to his cheek. She waved a quick goodbye to him and skipped towards Azula, tripping over countless stones on her way back.

She plopped down onto the ground, delicately holding the large rose in her hands. Azula noticed the smooth stem of the flower, free of thorns and pain.

“I see you and my brother have quite a bit of explaining to do.” Azula deadpanned, dreading to hear what Y/N could possibly have to say about the kiss she shared with Zuko. 

Y/N huffed out a puff of air, pushing away the loose strands of hair that were blowing around her forehead. She sat back against the cherry blossom tree, a lovestruck grin stretched across her face. 

“I’d meant to tell you earlier, ‘Zula.” She explained, twiddling the rose between her fingers. “A lot earlier actually—months ago, even.”

“Zuko and I ran into each other on my way to your room one day, and we just really clicked.”

Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, not from nerves but from the love that she felt for the kind Fire Lord. “We’ve been seeing each other since then and I think it’s going really well.”

“I think I’m in love with him.”

Azula felt her heart drop in that moment. She’d been anticipating a confession for the entirety of the day, though that confession was not the one she’d had in mind. 

Heartbreak was an unfamiliar feeling for Azula. Sure, she’d felt loneliness and emptiness before, but never this. She’d never known the true and utter despair of losing the one that you love to someone else. Someone that is undeniably better in every way.

Azula knew she’d never shine in comparison to Zuko in this new world—but she had thought that she was the diamond to Zuko’s rock in Y/N’s eyes.

But perhaps she was nothing more than a friend in the eyes of Y/N.

Year four, day two-hundred and two.

“I have news!” Y/N sprinted down the beach, sand flying everywhere as she giddily ran towards Azula. “Big big news that you’ll love to know!”

Azula raised an eyebrow at Y/N’s natural chaos, she’d never seen her so utterly unruly and dismantled. What could possibly cause her to act this way?

By the time she reached the seashore, Y/N was out of breath. She collapsed onto the sand, shrieking as the tide came in and brushed against her bare feet.

“Calm down, crazy! Don’t get that debris all over my new swimsuit!” Azula shouted, confused by how jumpy she was acting.

The only other time Y/N had come close to acting this way was when she and Azula had gone to see the famous play rights in the Fire Nation colonies, and ended up laughing at all of the ridiculousness they displayed.

“Sorry, sorry!” Y/N laughed, shaking the sand out of her clothes and hair. The state of being she was in reminded her of their early days together. Specifically the day Y/N had given Azula her favorite gift ever.

The budding rose covered in thorns.

“I’m just so excited.” Y/N went on and on describing her joy, her hands were waving in the air dramatically gesturing here and there to absolutely nothing. Azula wasn’t even listening to whatever she was saying, just admiring how pretty she looked in the sun.

“Take a breath, it’s not like we don’t have all day.” Azula chimed in, stopping Y/N from completely combusting with energy. She patted the seat next to her, nodding in approval as the girl she loved gladly took the spot.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azula’s waist, laying on the towel beside her. She hummed in content at the platonic gesture she was showing her friend. Azula however was racing at Y/N’s touch, confused by the intimacy of it all.

Azula shrugged off her feelings, instead choosing to trace circles over Y/N’s back. Easing the girl out of her excitement and into a state of quietness and relaxation. 

Silence overtook the two girls, the only sound being the splashing waves upon the nation’s coast. Azula stared blankly at the soft currents, seeing them rise and fall over the shoreline. She wished she could come and go like them.

That way she wouldn’t have to witness first hand the love between Y/N and Zuko. The love between the girl she saw as her soulmate and her own brother.

“Zuko proposed.” Y/N whispered, an unintentional smile gracing her lips. The unconditional love she felt for him was so visible, the perfect stranger would be able to pick up on it. “And I said yes.”

Azula swallowed hard, feeling tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She let the waterworks drip down her cheeks, feeling like a run down battery with no energy left to hide her sadness. 

Y/N sat up, startled by the sparse water droplets hitting the back of her neck. She gasped, concerned by Azula’s obviously helpless emotional state. She reached up, taking Azula’s face in her hands while wiping her tears away.

“What’s wrong?” She asked in concern, doing her best to comfort the crying girl. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Azula’s in an attempt to hold her close. “It’s alright, ‘Zula. You can tell me anything.”

“You know that I’m always here for you.”

In the storm of confusion and sadness that was raging in Azula’s mind, she did the one thing that she had promised herself she’d never do. She followed through with her own selfish wish of jeopardizing Zuko and Y/N’s relationship.

Y/N’s eyes opened wide in shock as Azula’s lips touched her own. 

The firebender poured all of her emotions into the one-sided kiss, not realizing that Y/N was unresponsive. The latter girl was frozen in place, trying her best to process what was exactly happening in the moment.

She’d dreamt of this moment, the time where Azula would finally admit that she had feelings for her too—but she hadn’t had those dreams in years. Those dreams had ended once Azula had said that love wasn’t real.

As Azula pulled away, tears still dripping down her chin, Y/N had a look of bitterness on her face. Her normally beautiful and positive features were overcome with anger and distrust.

“Why would you do that?” She cried, her eyes turning bloodshot red. Y/N stood hastily, backing away from her friend, holding her hands in front of her to show that she didn’t want Azula following her. “You know you shouldn’t have done that.”

Azula screamed in frustration as she watched Y/N storm away back in the direction of the palace. She grabbed fist-fulls of sand, flinging them at the sea and shooting blasts of blue fire in the air. 

She had perhaps ruined the best friendship she’d had in her entire life. All because she couldn’t keep her love to herself. Her true and overwhelming love for Y/N.

Year five, the last day.

“Are you prepared, Princess Azula?”

Azula stared into the mirror in front of her, seeing nothing but a coward in her reflection. She nodded absentmindedly to the servant that was serving her, doing her hair, dressing her, whatever it was that servants do.

She ordered her to leave the room, wishing to be alone for the remainder of the time she had to herself. There was a big event today, the biggest in the entire Fire Nation.

It was the wedding of the Fire Lord and his bride-to-be.

Azula would be lying to herself if she said that she hadn’t been dreading this day ever since Y/N had told her about the engagement that day on the beach—for that was the last day she’d even spoken to Y/N.

The former best friends hadn’t seen each other in months. Not because they were too busy or forgetful, but because Azula was too embarrassed to contact the girl. She was ashamed of her actions and regretted them wholeheartedly.

After all that time in the dark, Azula was shocked that she’d gotten an invitation to their ceremony. She didn’t think they’d want her present after what she’d done.

But here she was, all dolled up to watch the woman she loved marry the man she’d always been jealous of. Zuko had their mother’s love, the honor she’d always wanted, and the person she was supposed to spend her life with.

Sure his life had been nothing but hard since the minute he was born, but in the end Zuko was the better one out of the two of them. He was the one who was truly deserving of all of the power and glory that was their birthright. 

Azula glared at herself in the mirror’s glass, remembering the last time she’d looked at her reflection in such a distraught mood. She shook her head at the memory, choosing instead to pull open the small drawer of her vanity.

Inside was a long and thin wooden box, locked with a golden pad. She took the necklace tucked into her dress and fit the key charm into the socket, twisting it open.

Her hands reached into the keepsake, carefully gripping the decaying rose from its hiding place.

For four years she’d had the gift, and in those four years Azula had managed to find help from the plantbenders of the swamp to discover a way to keep the rose alive. 

However she’d become careless after her falling out with Y/N, forgetting completely about the flower, only remembering its existence in that very moment.

She spun the flower in her palms, wincing at the prickling feeling of the small thorns on the side. The rose still hadn’t bloomed, she’d told the plantbenders that she preferred it that way no matter their interjections.

Azula wanted to have the gift exactly how Y/N had meant it for her, it was more meaningful that way.

Fire raced up the stem of the rose, encasing the wilting petals in flames. Azula watched intensely as the flower turned to nothing more than ash and dust, all that was left was the four thorns she’d chosen to spare.

She poured the little dust she had back into the box, locking it with her necklace before taking the thorns with her and out the door. She was running on a tight schedule and wouldn’t for the life of her, miss the wedding.

The ceremony had begun beautifully. Romantic music surrounded the guests, filling their ears with the selection of tunes that Zuko and Y/N had hand picked. Orange roses erupted from the vases and archways in the courtyard, reminding Azula of her fateful picnic with Y/N.

She clutched the thorns in her palm at the thought of her, telling herself that this was always meant to happen.

Y/N deserved someone like Zuko. Someone good and loving, someone who would never turn their back on her. She was deserving of the entire world, and Azula never would’ve been able to give that to her.

She wasn’t meant to have Y/N’s love. She’d always known that, and now it was just time for her to accept it, move on, and cut her ties. Her future was nearing, and her new sister-in-law was not a part of it. 

Perhaps this was a positive, a truly good thing to come from the constant struggle that she’d faced since childhood.

After all, she could finally leave her prison. Abandon her memories in replace of new ones where she wasn’t the fire princess, where she was simply Azula—just Azula.

TAGS: @practicallylivesonline @cherryskyies @shell-bells-ringding @xapham @mochminnie @lammello​ @bombardia​

[kdramaxoxo]

What were your favourite kdramas of 2020?

Awesome question anon!! 

My Favorite K-Dramas of 2020

Flower of Evil: A psychological thriller centered around a jewelry maker who is running from his past, and his cop wife (power couple alert!)  who doesn’t know his original identity. The chemistry of the couple is amazing and all of the characters are nuanced and interesting. I was on the edge of my seat, AND sobbing! I’m going to be rewatching this in 2021 for sure. 

Into The Ring: The perfect slice-of-life rom com! Goo Se Ra has trouble holding down a job due to her passionate personality so after she loses her latest job working for the ML, she decides to run for a small government office position because it pays a salary. Literally she does it for the money which is just *chef’s kiss.* The show is about her dealing with local politics and it’s SO FUNNY and smart and the OTP is the best! 

Extracurricular: An unusual, fast paced thriller about an introverted high school boy mixed up in a prostitution ring. His crush gets involved and well, I don’t want to say what happens but it’s a wild and crazy ride. There really is not another k-drama like it. I like to refer to it as the least k-drama-y kdrama I’ve ever seen.

Cherry Magic! (30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii): I know this is a Jdrama but it’s the only drama that got a perfect score from me in 2020! If you’ve never felt like trying a jdrama, Cherry Magic is the one! Every episode was so endearing and sweet, and it even has ace representation, and does it well! I basically smiled the whole time and loved every second. Soft Romance and the best couple!

A Piece Of Your Mind: This kdrama really captured my heart (even if the premise is a not for everyone). Using an AI software to capture the personality of someone, a group of people are pushed together by a person they care about who is no longer alive. It’s an unusual premise, but the AI takes a back seat to the romance, friendship and healing that so many of them need.

Where Your Eyes Linger: A super cute BL web drama about a boy who is hired to be his friend’s body guard. There is a lot of tension and pining, and I fell in love with the stories pacing and the chemistry between the two leads.

Gaduri Sushi: A cute web drama about a tarot reading sushi restaurant owner who gets a new neighbor. It’s a funny and sweet romcom.

Kairos: This action packed fantasy thriller is so not my genre but it had me on the edge of my seat. Han Ae Ri, a hard working shop assistant ends up with a phone that can call Kim Seo Jin, a wealthy conglomerate employee one month into the future. They have a crime to solve and need to work together (kinda like Signal). It did have some flaws toward the end, but overall it was a solid and interesting drama.

Hospital Playlist: This slice-of-life drama featuring five college friends who all work at the same hospital came to my mind first. Chae Song-Hwa is one of the most interesting characters I’ve ever seen in a drama and I love the depth and care the drama gives to every single person featured. There is some romance but it’s the hospital and friendship dynamics that make this show a must see.

Psychopath Diary: Super fun psychological thriller. Yoon Shi Yoon plays a goofy and innocent character who witnesses a murder and then gets amnesia. For kdrama reasons he’s convinced he’s the actual murderer and begins to lean into the role. The whole thing is a bunch of crazy mixups but the chemistry between the innocent guy and the killer is just...awesome! It’s funny and creepy and a great watch.

Psycho But It’s Okay: A gorgeous k-drama using fairytale narrations as a backdrop, features two brothers who lost their mother, and a beautiful & famous author who grew up in a traumatic and abusive household. Everyone is very closed off and holding onto intense pain, but the three come together to help one another move on and find happiness. Gorgeous angsty and melodramatic romance. Best friendship ever, and literally the prettiest lady I have ever seen.

Mystic Pop Up Bar: A fantasy drama featuring three souls who are tied together because of a painful past. The leading lady is punished by the afterlife to help settle grudges and the she enlists the help of a soft customer service boy who can read minds and another afterlife employee. They are the most hilarious and adorable trio ever to have trioed (is that a word?). If you like found family, you’ll love this.

XX: A girl power web drama about a bartender who lovers her job but ends up working for her ex best friend. It’s got a mellow and unique vibe for a k-drama (I’m pretty sure it’s inspired by Search: WWW), the romance is soft AND she has a gay best friend.

Crash Landing On You: A South Korean celebrity accidentally ends up in North Korea for k-drama reasons and is helped by a soft hearted soldier and his crew. It’s one of those totally ridiculous plot lines that makes a K-drama a k-drama - You know, the ones with chaebols and all sorts of tropes, and a lot of plot that ignores reality. Still, the couple is adorable, the found family is amazing and the romance is just epic.

Shows that haven’t ended yet but might make the list: The Uncanny Counter, Lovestruck In The City, Run On, True Beauty (I mean it’s a long shot for that one but you never know! :)

[randomfandomimagine]

What Would You Do Without Me? (Jaskier x Reader)

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt

Fandom: The Witcher

Tags: Reader Insert, Female Pronouns, Pining, Heavy Flirting, Fluff, Cutesy, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Injury, a little sad and angsty at first.

Word Count: 6k words.

Summary: Y/N is intent on exploring perilous lands and Jaskier, ever at her side, agrees to go wit her. His presence and comfort prove more helpful than she could have imagined.

A/N: I read this great piece by @lia-writes and was inspired to write some cute hurt/comfort of Jaskier myself. Hope you all like it! :)

AO3: Link

“No” Geralt insisted, not giving in.

“Well, I’m going!” You assured, turning to Jaskier. You were received with a concerned and cautious glance from the bard. “What about you?”

He rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion and nodded his head at you.

“Of course I’m going with you, whatever will you do without me?”

You had to grin to his response, and so did Jaskier.

“Go ahead” Geralt interrupted. “But don’t blame me if you get killed”

“It is settled then” Jaskier patted the witcher’s back, earning a grunt from him.

Leaving the witcher alone in the inn, you walked outside with the bard.

“Perhaps this will make for a fantastic song” He started speaking as you went to the horses, too used to his ranting to have to turn around to him. “If we survive your reckless adventure, that is”

“So you do agree with Geralt” You briefly smirked at him over your shoulder.

“Uh, yes, I do” Noticing you walking ahead, he jogged a bit to stand by you. “I just didn’t want to say it in front of him”

“And give him the satisfaction of telling him he was right”

“Precisely”

You chuckled, absently glancing around the town as you made it to your horses.

“I mean, we are walking straight into uncharted territory, Y/N” Jaskier insisted. “We literally don’t know what sort of monster might be lurking in there"

“That’s what I want to find out” You nudged him in the ribs, to which he frowned. There was unease to his gesture as his eyebrows knitted together. “What lays at the outskirts of this town?”

“Possibly death”

“Or perhaps just another rumor and it is perfectly safe”

“Geralt didn’t want to go”

“Geralt wasn’t scared, he just couldn’t be bothered to come”

“Still…”

“Relax, Jaskier, I will protect you”

“You’re lucky you’re delightful, Y/N”

-

Mountains could be seen in the distance. The atmosphere was completely quiet once away from the busy town. Only the sound of your horses hooves was heard in the complete silence.

You slightly turned in your saddle, glancing at Jaskier. He moved on his horse, eyes glancing all around him. His shoulders were tense. His hands tightly gripped the reins.

“You’re terribly quiet back there” Your comment seemed to bring him out of his thoughts. Possibly pessimistic ones that involved danger and injury.

“Forgive me, my lady, if I’m cautious about this mysterious desert land that people say is cursed” He sarcastically replied, dedicating you a mocking grin.

“If you’re so worried, then why did you come?”

“I just can’t say no to you”

You laughed a little and sent him a flirtatious look. A genuine smile appeared on his lips and his shoulders eased down. You were opening your mouth to tease him when your horse suddenly stopped.

Merely exchanging a glance with Jaskier first, you faced forward again. The horse stirred in the spot, anxiously stomping on the ground as it paced up and down.

“What’s wrong?” You leaned forward to gently caress his neck, but that didn’t help.

“Y/N” Jaskier uttered behind you, just barely loud enough for you to hear. “Do you feel that?”

You straightened up when you realized what he was talking about. A certain darkness seemed to reign in the air, enveloping you and bringing a tight knot to your throat. Something evil seemed to be lurking in the shadows, threatening and dangerous. 

“I… Yes…” You replied, immediately regretting your foolish act of defiance.

During all your many travels with Geralt and Jaskier, nothing had happened. It was all fun as you mostly stayed in taverns and chatted with the bard. How naïve of you to believe that you couldn’t be touched for this reason. That nothing could ever happen to the witcher’s loyal companions, even without his presence.

“Perhaps we should go back to-“ Before Jaskier could finish his sentence, your horse cut him off.

He neighed and whipped his head around like he had seen a terrible apparition that didn’t reach your eyes. You desperately held on to the reins, but it was starting to become hard to stay on the saddle.

“Ah!” You shrieked when the horse stood in his hind legs and threw you off.

Your landing was rough and unpleasant, ridding you from all the air in your lungs. A blinding pain shot through your back, so overwhelming that you didn’t even know where it started. It just pulsated through your whole body as you struggled to breathe.

“Oh, gods!” Jaskier uttered, suddenly next to you. “Y/N!”

For a moment you grew disoriented as the pain claimed all your focus. You grimaced, trying to process anything. How had he gotten to you so quickly? What had happened? What did the horse see? Were you in danger?

“Are you alright?” Jaskier hovered over you, reaching out with his hands but being too afraid to touch you. “Speak to me!”

You gaped, breathless, and clung on to his arm. He scrambled for words as he gingerly pulled at you to sit you up. Then you could finally take a breath and recover. You finally got your bearings back as you locked eyes with him.

“I-I’m alright” You gulped, gasping as your heart thumped against your chest. “I think…”

Jaskier dropped his head and sighed in relief. His arm under your hands was shaking just as much as your entire body was.

“Can you move?” He kindly asked you as soon as you found with his blue eyes fixed on you.

Still slightly dazed, you nodded your head and let go of him. You folded your legs to try and stand up. At least you didn’t think you were hurt, it was probably just the shock of the impact.

However, as soon as you leaned a hand on the ground to push yourself up, that lacerating pain returned. It shot up from your wrist until it reached your shoulder. You screamed out, clutching your arm to your chest and rocking forward.

“What! What’s wrong?!” Jaskier urgently patted your knees.

You had to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Tears arrived to your eyes, and you only felt worse at the look of utter sadness and worry in his expression.

“My arm…” You breathed out, barely being able to move it. “I hurt my arm, it hurts so much…”

Jaskier stared at you helplessly. For a brief moment you thought he would break out crying himself. There was a long pause until he frantically stood up and moved around.

“Alright, we’re going back” You heard him mutter behind you. “Up you go first”

His arms snuck under your arms and he grunted as he lifted you up. The sudden change of height made you slightly dizzy. Or it could be just the dull ache that went from your right shoulder down to your wrist.

Jaskier hesitated to move, wanting to make sure that you could stand. When he assured that you wouldn’t fall back down, he hurried to step in front of you.

“I-I’ll take a look” He muttered, softly placing his hands on your shoulder.

Despite the delicate manner in which his fingers moved, you hissed in pain at the smallest of grazes. Jaskier heaved a restless sigh and watched you, eyes laced with concern.

“I-I don’t actually know much about this…” The bard shrugged, seemingly small and helpless. “It is a bit swollen”

You nodded your head and clutched the injured spot. The pain was so intense that it made it impossible for you to find your voice.

“Geralt probably knows more than I do” Jaskier added with a sudden cheerfulness that could be nothing but make pretend. “He might be able to help you!”

Once again, you solely nodded your head. You were pursing your lips so tightly that they hurt. Facing your back to the bard, you returned with your horse. The animal nudged his head against your collarbone as an apology for having done you any harm.

“Can you actually ride?” Jaskier’s nervous tone didn’t quite help your anguish. “Perhaps we should ride together, so-”

“I can ride” You urgently interrupted him, struggling to even breathe through the pain. “Just let’s get back as soon as possible, please” 

“Right… Yes, of course” Meek and obedient, the bard helped you get up on your horse.

He lingered by your side even once you were safely on the saddle. With a resigned touch to your leg, he finally went to ride his own horse, knowing there wasn’t much else he could do for now.

-

Luckily, you hadn’t been through a lot of pain in your life. Unluckily, this one was making you wish you could just faint and forsake yourself to a peaceful slumber.

You were hunched over in the saddle. By the point you finally made it back, you were at the end of your rope. As soon as you lightly pulled at the reins to stop your horse, Jaskier’s stallion to your left halted as well. The bard nearly threw himself off the horse to the ground in order to help you down.

His hands, clumsy but gentle, fell on your hips. He pulled at you until you were gracefully placed on the ground. You leaned into his touch, feeling too weak to stand. Not only was the pain becoming unbearable because of the intensity and duration, but your arm was also mildly numb and it was a very unpleasant sensation. Discomfort and nausea filled you and made you want to cry in frustration.

“Alright, stand still” There was distress in Jaskier’s voice as well.

“What are you doing?” You feebly asked as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Trying to…” He mumbled, wrapping an arm around your side and attempting to sweep your feet into the air. “There we go”

You were scooped into his arms, much to your relief. Having to hold your own weight proved exhausting on itself. You snuggled closer to him, shivering and whimpering, as you sought every ounce of comfort he could provide you with.

“Sh, it’s alright” He shushed, hoisting you up to properly hold you against him. “Geralt will help you, we’re almost there”

Jaskier strained as he walked as fast as he could. The distance between there and the inn seemed never ending for both of you. You didn’t think you could take the pain for much longer. On his side, Jaskier was having a hard time carrying you, but he was more preoccupied with healing you first. He never stopped whispering words of comfort to you. It broke his heart to see you in so much pain.

-

“That damn witcher” Jaskier swore through grit teeth, quitting his pacing to sit by you in the bed he had settled you in. “Why does he always wander around?”

You were a mess, trying not to sob in front of him. You were mortified enough already knowing he was so worried about you. You refused to, on top of all, start bawling your eyes out.

“He should be back any minute” Jaskier kissed the top of your head. “Hold on for a bit longer, love”

You just nodded, mentally cursing Geralt yourself for not being there. He would know what injury you were facing, as well as perhaps having a potion to eliminate the pain.

Too restless to sit by your side anymore, Jaskier sprung up from the bed. He walked over to the cupboard and rummaged through the drawers. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but were simply too drained to speak up.

“Ah-ha!” He finally exclaimed, grabbing something and turning to you. “I knew it was here somewhere”

You observed the foulard he was holding and peered at him in confusion.

“We can make a sling out of it!” His excited grin comforted you slightly and reminded you to breathe. “That way you can keep your injured arm in place”

He fiddled with it and approached you once more. Just as he was trying to tie it around you, the door of the room opened.

“Oh, thank the gods” You and Jaskier sighed at the same time.

“You’re alive” Geralt greeted you, solely glancing at you.

“Not quite” You sulkily replied, being fed up with your injury.

His golden eyes fell upon you and his deadpan expression turned to anger at the sight.

“Geralt, please help” Jaskier followed him around the room as Geralt came in. “Y/N fell of the horse when-“

“The horse got scared?” He sarcastically finished the sentence, dropping his satchel on the other bed and searching it.

“I literally don’t have the strength to put up with an ‘I told you so’, Geralt” You sighed, clenching your fists in annoyance and helplessness. Your shaky voice was proof enough of the distress you were experiencing. “You were right, I was stupid to go, please tell me you have a potion or something for this pain. Please…”

Jaskier returned to your side while the witcher did his thing. The bard was careful enough to sit on your good side and rub your back there where the pain didn’t reach.

Geralt towered over you, offering you a small bottle that contained a clear liquid. You didn’t hesitate to take it from him and desperately drown it all in one gulp.

“Ugh” You shivered when a wave of nausea hit you. “That was disgusting”

“Yeah, well” The witcher tilted his head as he took the bottle back from you. “It will help with the pain. What hurts?”

“Her arm” Jaskier replied for you. “I think she landed on it when she fell”

“Stand up, I’ll take a look at it” Geralt briefly turned to leave the empty bottle atop the cupboard.

Along with Jaskier’s support, of his arm once more around your waist, you stood to your feet. You forced yourself to stay up while your whole body complained and threatened with collapsing.

Geralt faced you once more, so you pointed him to your right arm.

“Let me see” Was all he said, so you moved your shirt to reveal your bare shoulder.

He carefully squeezed, making you squirm at his rough calloused hands. Just the briefest touch to your delicate skin made you grimace. He kept palpating your shoulder until he seemed to come up with a diagnosis and let go of you with a thoughtful hum.

“Turn around” He asked you, and you did as well, now revealing the skin on your back.

“Oof” Jaskier exclaimed behind you. “That’s a nasty bruise! It’s all purple and-“

“Jaskier” Geralt quickly scolded him, but it was too late.

“Oh, no, is it dislocated?” Your mind started racing. “Do you have to put it back on the socket? T-That will hurt even more! I don’t… I don’t think I can take-”

“It’s not dislocated” Geralt turned you around to be facing each other once more. “You were lucky”

As you recovered from that scare, you felt Jaskier falling into place behind you. In a gesture that surprised you, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and rested his chin on your healthy shoulder. You smiled a bit, imagining it was his apology for having worried you.

“Try not to move it” The witcher concluded, stepping away from you. “You’ll be fine, you just need to rest”

“W-Where are you going?” The bard asked next to your ear, but Geralt didn’t reply.

When you were left alone in the room once more, you exhaled. It was a big relief that you hadn’t badly injured yourself. Jaskier’s gentleness also invited you to further relax.

“Phew…” He sighed, rubbing his thumb over your rib. “You gave me quite a scare there”

You just hummed in response. Your knees were nearly giving in under your weight, but his arms lightly tightened around your stomach.

“Alright then” With baffling ease, he left a small kiss on your shoulder. “If my lady allows me, I will now look after you”

You chuckled as he took you with him to the bed once more. Once you were sitting, he went to retrieve the foulard from before. In the meantime, you started to feel quite groggy, probably because of the effects of the potion Geralt gave you. Finding that your thoughts were tangled and messy, you paused.

“You’re spoiling me, Jas” You then told him with a sleepy smile.

He laughed at his new nickname but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he stood before you with his hands on his hips.

“Absolutely, it will make for a quick recovery” The way he smiled now, with so much relief and renewed energy, made you calmer than you had been all day. “I will gladly spoil you”

He carefully put your injured arm in the foulard, then wrapping his arms around your neck to tie the ends diagonally over your good shoulder. When he moved away, he was still smiling like that.

“Now lie down, Geralt told you to rest”

You wearily nodded your head and closed your eyes. The pain was finally subsiding, making you relax your muscles and make you aware of how tense they had been for hours.

“I am sleepy” You groggily lifted your legs up to the bed.

“No wonder, love” Jaskier’s fingers tenderly fell over your healthy arm, pushing you slightly until you were lying down. “Today was quite the ordeal”

“Mhm” You sighed, finally finding comfort and calmness to what had only been chaos. “Will you stay with me?”

You blindly reached out until your hand fell over his arm and you squeezed it tight, eliciting a fond chuckle from Jaskier. The bed lightly shifted with his weight as he sat on the corner, but you weren’t satisfied with that. You frowned and whined, barely managing to open your eyes to look at him.

“No, here” You kept tugging at him, trying to make him understand that you wanted him to lie down with you. The only thing missing in your perfect comfort was him. His arms around you. His fidgety and warm body against you. His voice in your ear, whispering soft words with his delightful accent.

“Oh” Jaskier finally realized, smiling like that once more. “Of course”

As he occupied the space next to you, on your good side, the bard lowly laughed to himself. You stirred, trying to fit in the small space with him. You settled over him at last with your head on his chest, not putting pressure in your bad arm and instead squeezing your left one against his torso. At that moment, you were confident that you had never felt so cozy and peaceful before.

Jaskier continued giggling under his breath, even as his arms lovingly fell around you. He brought your frame closer to him as to not let you lay so close to the edge of the bed.

“What’s so amusing?” You went to slap him in the chest, just then remembering your arm was kept in place with Jaskier’s improvised sling.

“You are quite adorable when you’re sleepy” He playfully wrinkled his nose at you.

“Stop…” You nuzzled his shoulder, only making him laugh more as you proved his point.

“Are you comfortable?” His hand tenderly pressed against your back in a gentle massage that relieved your sore shoulder. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m alright… Now I am” You sighed, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to give in to the welcoming sleep. “Thank you, Jaskier, for everything”

“It is my pleasure” His voice had lowered into a whisper, helping you fall asleep with even more ease. “I am quite comfortable myself, honestly”

You smiled and nuzzled his neck, treasuring his warmth and loving affection. Despite your many shared travels and adventures, you had never been this close. Nonetheless, it felt natural and comforting.

“You are so great, I love you” You shivered as his hand caressed your hair.

You didn’t notice he abruptly stopped at your words. Nor that he was suddenly holding his breath.

He was saying something to you now, but you were already asleep.

-

A deep voice brought you out of your slumber. After a few seconds of haziness, you recognized it was Geralt. You couldn’t differentiate the words he was saying, but you felt Jaskier’s voice resonating in his chest under your ear as he replied.

You jolted up slightly, cruelly dragged away from the comfortable stupor, when the door was slammed closed. The bard stirred under you as well, surprised by your movement.

“Y/N?” He cautiously asked, his fingers brushing over your ear as he secured your hair behind it so it didn’t fall over your face. “Are you awake?”

You lazily opened your eyes, being welcomed by the sweetest of looks in his eyes as he peered down at you. A smile immediately appeared on his mouth at your intertwined gazes.

“Was that Geralt?”

“Yes, he… Came to check on you”

You wondered if the sudden restlessness and hesitance present in Jaskier’s voice was a product of your imagination. Perhaps you were still too drowsy.

“How are you feeling, by the way?” He resumed, gently squeezing his arms around you. “Any better?”

“Yeah” You pouted at the thought that you would have to leave that position. Being engulfed by him, you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever. “It doesn’t hurt as much”

Jaskier uttered a sound that was a mixture between a sigh and a chuckle. His bright grin reminded you of the one that seemed to illuminate your world before you fell asleep. Then when you needed it the most, when you needed him the most.

“Well, I am happy to hear that” Apparently, the bard had nothing but loving gestures for you as he gingerly squeezed your arm. “I was worried about you”

Your eyes met and refused to look away. Something stirred within you with the sudden realization of how close you truly were, mere inches separating your faces. Of how sweet and tender he had been. How caring, how gentle. Gentle Jaskier.

Despite the wonderful moment, your body complained. You groaned, knowing you needed to get up and eat or drink something. After all, you didn’t even know how long you were asleep for. That thought also made you aware that Jaskier hadn’t moved an inch, for your sake. Surely, he must have been feeling sore himself after maintain that position for so long.

“Thank you, Jaskier” You carefully leaned your hand on his stomach to push yourself up. “You have been so kind”

“That I have” His playful and flirtatious tone, that you hadn’t quite heard since before the accident, had thankfully returned. “Perhaps you should give me a token of your gratitude?”

Not without effort, you had managed to sit up on your own. When you turned to him, he had rolled over on his side now and was resting his jaw on his hand. You grinned at the cool demeanor he displayed.

“Heroes don’t ask for rewards, my dear Jaskier”

He pursed his lips in a badly contained smirk that still crept up to his mouth.

“I am not a hero, I am a knight. Saving damsels in distress”

“Don’t get used to it” You leaned closer to him and lovingly pecked his cheek. “But thank you, oh valiant knight in shining armor”

Jaskier shrugged with feigned bashfulness, but you could see a faint blush on his cheeks.

“You’re welcome” He nimbly stood to his feet, running to your side in case you needed any sort of assistance. “In any case, you… already said thank you before, remember?”

You tried to sort out your thoughts, too distracted by his magnetic presence next to you. By his charm. His beautiful smile, his lingering glances and lively blue eyes. The way he reached out to lightly touch the small of your back, asking you if you needed any help without using words at all.

“Um…” You muttered in an attempt to focus. “Did I?”

“Aha…” Jaskier calmly followed you around the room.

Upon seeing your reflection on the mirror atop the cupboard, you gasped in outrage. You were suffering from a terrible case of bed hair. With your one healthy arm, you reached out to try and comb your hair. Until a sudden memory flashed in your head. Heat arrived to your entire face, but you tried to ignore it as well as Jaskier, who still expected a proper answer from you.

Instead of giving it to him, and with the mental excuse of feeling slightly cold, you went to pick up your forgotten jacket from the chair it rested on. You were disappointed, however, when you remembered you couldn’t move your arm.

“You seem flustered” Jaskier observed, softly taking the garment from your hands. “Is something the matter?”

You couldn’t quite get mad at his sarcastic tone as he put your arm on the sleeve, first the healthy one. As he moved to stand to your other side, he paused and stared.

“No, I’m not flustered” You saw his smile with the corner of your eye.

Jaskier waited for a few more seconds. In the end, he chuckled and you prayed that you weren’t blushing. It was a mild relief when he began carefully maneuvering your injured arm out of the sling and into the other sleeve.

Your gaze lingered on the ground and away from his eyes. He positioned himself before you once he was done adjusting the jacket over your shoulders and reclaimed your attention.

“You do remember it, then” He put his hands on his hips. “Hm?”

“I do, Jas”

“Well, did you mean it?”

“I… Y-Yeah”

“Would you say it again?”

The flirtatious atmosphere shifted in favor of a more serious one. His eyes were now glinting with emotion and expectation. You opened your mouth to say it, to show him that you actually were fond of him. Fond of him in such a way, that was. However, the words got stuck in your throat and you were unable to pronounce them.

“It’s alright” Jaskier suddenly took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t actually have to say it”

“I don’t need to, do I?” You looked at him through your eyelashes.

Jaskier stirred in the spot and cleared his throat, apparently flustered. You eyed him carefully and saw him opening and closing his mouth like a fish. When he gazed at you again, you smiled at him.

The two of you chuckled together. There was so much left unsaid that was implied in that shared laugh. The nervousness, the familiarity, the longing.

Your breath caught in your throat when his hand found its way to your face.

“Are you really alright?” He asked, quite seriously now.

“I am now” You sweetly smiled at him, earning a smitten look.

Jaskier took a deep breath, nodding to himself. You couldn’t help but to notice the way his eyes kept drifting down to your lips. Betraying your yearning, yours did the same.

It wasn’t until you felt a soft squeeze in your hand that you remembered he was holding it. You used it to softly push yourself forward. A chuckle escaped your lips when your noses bumped against each other.

Your arm throbbed. As well as that, you felt light-headed, but you couldn’t tell if it was because Jaskier’s closeness took your breath away or because of your injury. You leaned towards the first, since you felt completely elated.

Butterflies flew inside your stomach in anticipation. You could feel the soft velvety touch of his lips on yours already when a sound broke the magic spell.

“Ugh…” You cowered back in shame, holding your growling stomach.

The wonderful sound of Jaskier’s laughter filled the room.

“Come on” Jaskier tugged at your hand, refusing to let it go. “We need to get some food in you”

“But…” Your glance fell over the door. At the other side of it were countless of indiscreet eyes, and you were far too fond of this newfound intimacy with Jaskier to put up with that. “My… My hair is… a mess”

He looked up at it, considering it for a moment, and then nodded.

“Yeah, right” Jaskier gawked at you as you hurriedly stepped away from him.

A part of you cursed your stupidity for hiding. The other one, though, urged you to get away from his prying eyes that were likely to spot your flush.

Pretending to focus hard on the task ahead, you picked up your hair brush and began furiously carding through your hair trying to get rid of the knots. With your one arm, it was a challenging task.

“Wow, wow, wow” The bard was back at your side in the blink of an eye. “What are you doing?”

“Combing my hair…”

“Why so violently?”

“I always do it like that, it’s easier to untangle it and-“

“Give me that” He took the comb from your hands and shook his head in disapproval as he moved behind you. “How are you not bald already?”

You had to chuckle, still endeared that he was so adamant on looking after you. The comb gently passed through your hair as Jaskier’s hands slowly worked. Your neck tingled when his fingers travelled through your tufts. If there was any unease left in you, it vanished the more his fingers sunk in your hair.

“That’s better” He concluded, letting your mane gracefully fall over your back. To top it all off, he bent down slightly to kiss you on the head. You glanced down, smiling to yourself. How could you not adore him?

Determined to focus on anything else not to throw yourself at him and kiss him silly, you tried to gather your now combed hair to tie it up. An inevitable grunt crawled up your throat at your useless arm that made it impossible to finish simple tasks such as that.

“Fine, I’ll do that too” Jaskier held his hand out, with the fake reluctance of someone who definitely was excited to spoil you even more. “Give me the thing”

“What thing?”

“That ribbon you always carry”

Your hand fell over your wrist in awe, surprised that he had noticed such a small detail. Pulling at the ends of the thin red ribbon to untie it from your wrist, you gave it to him over your shoulder.

“Thaaank you” You bit your lip when your hands brushed and with his lively reply.

His fingers reached out from behind until they picked up all of your hair, dragging across your temples to make sure no tuft escaped from his grip. As he gently gathered all of your hair into his hands, you sighed in delight to his further gentle cares.

“Was that a happy sigh?” The fond amusement was obvious in his voice.

“Yes…” You shivered when his fingertips graced your neck as he tied the ribbon around your hair and secured it there.

“What for?” Jaskier took ahold of your shoulders and turned you around to face him.

“You”

“Me?”

“What would I do without you, Jas?”

The bard smirked, and even if you mirrored his expression, you felt slightly embarrassed by how clingy you suddenly felt. Jaskier chuckled and infected you with soft laughter.

Craving his closeness, you softly kissed him in the jaw and then hid in his chest. As you buried your face on his shoulder, he tensed up slightly, perhaps as flustered as you.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his hand tenderly cradling the back of your head.

“I’m trying to hug you” Was your excuse as you reached out with your good arm and put it across his back to demonstrate.

“Oh” His arms immediately pressed you against him. “Like this?”

You hummed, happily nuzzling his chest. Honestly, all that pain was nearly worth it just for bringing you so impossibly close. For earning you his delicate cares and loving attention.

When you looked up at him, your gazes met once more. You could feel the romantic atmosphere that surrounded you, nearly being able to touch it. Not breaking away from his embrace, you tilted your head up. His lips were right there, so close, so reachable. So enticing.

His mouth perked up, grinning at your gesture, and he leaned closer too. He closed his eyes, and you did the same as his arms squeezed you even closer to his torso.

“You two!” A deep angry voice exclaimed just as the door violently swung open.

“Dammit, Geralt!” Jaskier complained, glancing at the witcher.

He merely pointed a finger at you and scowled, apparently either oblivious or unfazed by what you had been doing before he so rudely erupted in.

“If you’re not there in two minutes, I’m eating without you” That said, Geralt stormed off.

Exchanging a glance with Jaskier, the two of you giggled like two mischievous children.

“Let’s go, the white wolf is hungry” He reluctantly pulled away from you. However, he refused to completely abandon your touch and took ahold of your hand.

“He was waiting for us all this time?” You gawked at him, following him as he reached the door.

“I… Might have forgotten to tell you” Jaskier grimaced in apology, not meeting your eyes. “Even forgotten he was there…”

You just laughed and exited the room with him. Even if, as you had foreseen, the noisy crowd that gathered outside harshly broke the sweet magical spell that hung over you and Jaskier.

-

Geralt wolfed down his food, barely paying any mind to the two of you sitting across from him. Even with your playful and even childish gestures, like lowly laughing together, all the nudging and whispering and leaning into each other.

“Cut it out” The witcher finally complained, not bothering to glance at you.

“Sorry…” Jaskier mumbled, leaving you with a last pat to your knee before focusing on his friend. “Where have you been, by the way?”

“I went to the outskirts” You intently listened as you nibbled on the food before you. “There was a ghoul there, that’s why your horse got scared”

“Oh” You could only say in return. “Well, thank you. Not only on my behalf, I’m sure the people of this town are grateful now that they’re safe”

“Hm” Geralt only hummed.

“That’s good…” Jaskier absently picked at his bread. “Yeah…”

“You barely had a bite” You observed, watching his full plate. “You should eat something too”

“I can’t eat” He dramatically sighed and peered at you. “I have butterflies in my stomach”

You let out an involuntary guffaw at the unexpected comment. You could discern that wonderful bright grin of his before you hid your face on his shoulder.

“Is there something between you two?” Geralt demanded to know, forcing you to look back at him.

Both you and the bard stuttered as you tried to find a proper response. It turned out that you didn’t even know it yourselves. There was certainly something, but what exactly, you couldn’t tell.

You shrugged your shoulders and that immediately reminded you of your injury, nearly forgotten. A sharp pain started in your shoulder blade and spread down to your arm and wrist like it had done at the start of the day.

“Shit!” You hunched forward and angrily slammed the table.

“What happened?!” Jaskier’s palm settled over your back in alarm.

“I fucking shrugged!” You took a deep breath to calm down from the sudden shock.

“Maybe that will remind you to be more careful next time” Geralt said as he stood up. “Instead of pulling any reckless deeds again”

“Are we leaving?”

“Yes, I’m not putting up with you two”

You were equally amused and mortified by his blatant annoyance with your cutesy interactions. Instead of commenting on it, however, the both of you stood up and quietly followed him.

The air and the sun outside were refreshing after such a long day. Besides, Jaskier’s lingering hand on your back brought you that comfort he had been providing you with all day.

As you neared the horses, the bard paused next to yours. A sly smirk had mysteriously appeared on his expression, and you found out why before you could question it.

He smacked his lips against yours, sneakily yet casually, and ran away.

“Jaskier!” You called him, stopping him before he could escape.

“Yes, Y/N?” He innocently turned to you, like nothing had happened.

“I… Help me up on the horse, please?”

Without a word, he returned by your side and settled his hands on your hips. Before he could boost you up, however, you leaned your hand on his shoulder.

“It has been quite a day” You said as an excuse to keep him close. “Will you stay by my side?”

“I am your knight in shining armor, after all” He winked an eye at you.

You played with your hair and moved in closer, painstakingly slow. Every centimeter of your body started tingling when you finally met on a proper kiss. Slow but passionate. Tender and delicate. Loving and demanding.

Jaskier laughed against your mouth as he pulled away.

“Are you trying to seduce me, you little devil?” His lips had never been so attractive as they curved up against yours.

“Perhaps…” You innocently batted your eyelashes at him. “But you’re not allowed to fall in love”

“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that, Y/N”

You chuckled in awe at his words and leaned in again. Geralt, already up on Roach, loudly cleared his throat behind you. You had to suppress a guffaw when a flush appeared on Jaskier’s cheeks. To divert attention from it, he nodded and silently helped you up on the horse once and for all.

You smiled to yourself as you absently caressed your horse’s neck. Surely, it had been a long day, but you wouldn’t change a thing. Even as you towered over him, Jaskier smirked at you.

“What would you do without me, love?” He playfully squeezed your knee before he left to ride his horse. Despite his teasing, the sweetest of smiles was plastered on his lips.

Geralt went first, but as he passed you by, Jaskier winked an eye at you. You couldn’t help but noticing that he didn’t let you go first this time.

Tag list: @kingniazx​ / @greensadmoon / @they-call-me-thewildrose / @aviankin / @jasper-the-stan / @v3nusc3 / @kisabellar / @breezyfails / @iwannaendme5 / @squirrel-saloli / @saveatruckrideoptimusprime / @ultracolorfulnerdcollection / @creativemayhems / @bands-messed-me-up / @pantrashtic / @buckyness-intensifies / @drunkonbuckybarnes / @kkcline123 / @designfailure56 / @this-is-whump-dammit / @anderfelll-s // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, let me know!! // Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Gêdajal

Part 8 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’.  Who know how many more parts are going to follow…  Link to Series Masterlist.

Thorin falls for a Dwarrowdame raised by Elves, and tries to make know his feelings, but accidentally offends her, which leads to another and another misunderstanding between the two.

Based off of @immawriteyouthings​ ‘Falling Stars’

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Estel

Word Count: 1,418

Warning(s):  Swear word

Translation(s): Gêdajal:  Realization

Síndarin: Aithand:  Not true

Cúthad:  You lie

~~~

It was the highest stakes game of rock-paper-sword ever played.  Not that I knew it at the time.  Little had I suspected just how dramatically the outcome would change my perspective on certain things.  

I had been off by myself again like I usually was nowadays, and Bilbo and Bofur had cornered me--much to my surprise--and roped me into playing a game of rock-paper-sword.  When I had asked why I needed to play, Bofur had spouted some rubbish about it being for my own good.  

Hogwash.  

Eru only knew what the consequences would be if I lost, which I was certain was not going to happen.  Contrarily to what many believed--Thorin especially--I was not dim-witted.  Quite the contrary, actually.  I was always ready for a good mind game or riddle.  

With that in mind, I shouldn't have been surprised that Bilbo got involved in this--what with his expertise in riddles--for here he was, standing before me with his fingers held out in the guise of a sword.  The Hobbit was better at this than I had anticipated.  It had been foolish of me to underestimate him.

"Aithand!  No!"  I cried in disbelief; my own hand laid flat out in the imitation of a sheaf of paper.  This was the third straight time he had beat me in the game, meaning I had to do.... something.  They hadn't told me yet, which only made me suspicious about the severity of my consequence.

Bofur let out a triumphant laugh and punched the Hobbit's shoulder, knocking him back a few steps as he grimaced in pain.  "I knew ya could do it, Master Boggins!"  He exclaimed, grinning widely and totally missing the annoyed expression Bilbo wore at the mispronunciation of his surname.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared steadily at the pair.  "Alright, what do I have to do now that I've lost?"  I asked, and Bofur's grin turned sly.

"Follow us."  He said, rising to his feet and walking away towards the clearing where we had once more set up camp on our journey.  According to Gandalf, we were only a few weeks walk from someplace where we would be offered shelter.

Walking after Bofur, my steps became hesitant as I caught sight of the entire company gathered around the glowing embers of the fire.  What in Eru's name was going on?

Bilbo picked up on my hesitance and laid a cautious hand on my arm.  I looked down at him, frowning as I took in his encouraging smile.  "Go on, they aren't going to bite.  It's for your own good."  He said quietly, and I narrowed my eyes, wondering what they weren't telling me.  

Why were they constantly talking about it being 'for my own good'?

But I continued forward until I was ushered into a seat right across from Balin.  Settling myself comfortably, I shot a look around the circle, noticing that there was one person missing.

"Where's Master Thorin?"  I asked, and Balin smiled, folding his hands in his lap.

"He's currently occupied so we can have this chat."  He said, I watched him curiously.  What chat did we need to have?

"What do we need to talk about?"  I questioned warily, and a few of the Dwarves snickered quietly, making me glance around in confusion.  If I was just going to be made fun of...

"A lot of things, but first we'll need to start at the beginning."  Balin said, refocusing my attention on him.  "Your abrupt reveal of your upbringing gave us some answers to many of our questions."

Now I was even more confused.  "What questions?"  I asked, nervously tugging on a loose thread on my pastel cloak.  

"Well, we had been wondering how you didn't know anything about Khuzdul or the courting ritual, as well as why you kept pushing Thorin away even as you pined for him."  He said, and his blunt words brought an unwanted flush to my cheeks.

Ducking my head slightly to allow my black hair to form a somewhat effective curtain, I let out a deep breath.  "I don't love Thorin."  I muttered, making Balin chuckle and shake his head.  But before he could speak, Bofur piped up.

"That's an outright lie, Lass, and you know it.  You don't think we haven't seen you watch Thorin from afar when you think no one's lookin'?  Quite often at that?"  He teased, and Fili and Kili nodded.

"Aye, Bofur's right.  Me and Kee have seen you watching Uncle quite a bit.  A bit like how he watches you.  And how Kee watches Lory."  Fili said, dodging the elbow Kili threw his way, and I rolled my eyes, wondering why they didn't get it.

"Cúthad.  You all keep saying things like that, but I don't understand.  You say that Thorin likes me, but I've never seen a hint of that.  He goes out of his way to be rude to me."  I said angrily, and Balin's gaze grew solemn.

"That's what I'm trying to explain here if certain people would let me finish," he said, shooting a look towards Fili and Kili.  "In our courting ritual, the first step to show your interest in someone is to offer them a weapon--"

Understanding blazed through me, and my eyes widened as everything suddenly began to make sense.  "Wait, so you mean when I gave Thorin my dagger as a thank you," I shot Bofur a look that he returned with a wink, "in his mind I was asking to court him?"  I asked, and Balin nodded.

"Correct.  And when he accepted the dagger, that meant he was accepting your offer to court him, so to speak.  That's where the next step comes into play.  He was supposed to give you a weapon as well as part of the process, and if you accepted it that meant you both could move onto the next step."

Again, I spoke up, my eyes darting back and forth as I thought.  "I thought he was being rude and trying to insinuate that I was horrible at protecting myself and needed another weapon to do so, so I rejected the sword he offered me, which means I rejected his offer to court me in a way?"  I asked, and everyone nodded.

"Aye, that's right, Miss Estel.  In Thorin's mind that basically meant you weren't satisfied with his offered weapon or no longer wanted to court him, in which case he tried to sort out what went wrong."  Balin said quietly, his blue eyes twinkling at me as I contemplated the past few weeks.

"Thorin can come across as angry or gruff, especially when he's trying to hide his true feelings," Dwalin spoke up, "when ye rejected him, he tried to hide his feelings and protect himself from yer rejection.  He's never felt like this for a Dwarrowdame before, so he's rightly a bit nervous.  Especially since ye were a bit standoffish."  The tattooed dwarf said, and I watched him with an understanding gaze.

"That's what I've been doing too.  I didn't think that Thorin had any sort of affection for me, so I bottled it all up and tried to forget about it...."  I murmured quietly, reflecting on my newfound information.  

"Now all ya have to do is show him how ya feel."  Bofur said, giving me an easy smile that I failed to return.  He didn't know how bloody scary it was to bare your heart to someone; even if that someone supposedly returned your feelings.

"I will do that," I said uncertainly before giving everyone a hard stare.  "As long as everyone else stays quiet about my feelings," I said.

Whispers suddenly erupted around the circle, and Fili and Kili tittered as they winked suggestively at me.  Honestly, those two were more like toddlers than the adults they claimed to be.  Surely Kili would be more mature; he had a wife!

"What is all this?  Are you holding a meeting without me, Balin?"  Thorin's deep voice rumbled gruffly behind me, and I gulped.  Things were about to get even more awkward than they usually were.  I could only hope that everyone would follow my plea and not say anything.

I wanted to state my feelings in my own way and in my own timing; not have my hand forced.  Also, I didn't quite believe everyone's words about how much Thorin cared for me.  I wanted to see for myself before I did anything, especially so now that I knew what I was looking for.

[adarlingsnightmare]

Chuuya Nakahara Yandere Alphabet

Anonymous said:

Sounds good! How about the alphabet for chuuya? :3c 

accidentally posted this to my main blog after writing a huge apology for my lack of posting :/ i keep doing that unfortunately. anyways, ive had a full week exams which is why i havent been posting. im extremely tired and stressed but i will try to get more requests done this week, though i have another week of exams. i do apologise, but itll be over soon. i hope you enjoy anon, this short bastard is one of my favs. <3

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Chuuya would gladly smother you in endless kisses and cuddles, but if you tell him to back off, he'll stick to just having an arm around you (because god forbid he isn't touching you in one way or another). You'll often hear him whispering how much he absolutely adores you when he thinks you're asleep, and when you're visibly awake he'll be showering you in compliments.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Oh, Chuuya will undoubtedly do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if that results in bloody murder. He's in the mafia after all, what's a little blood on his hands, especially in the name of love?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Chuuya would only mock you if you consistently failed to escape or were getting punished by him. Otherwise, he is generally loving and as romantic as possible. He will always make sure you're eating and sleeping properly, snapping at you if you refuse to eat as he gets awfully worried about you sometimes.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

No, not really. The only instances where something's against his darlings will is when he's punishing them. Other than that, it's mainly abduction and the lack of freedom to talk to people.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Chuuya confides in his darling, and will show a side of himself that no one else ever sees. He'll ask for advice on work matters and will constantly seek love and reassurance from his darling. While outwardly he may still appear tough and cocky, he's really soft for you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would be pretty irritated and though he'd never admit it, quite hurt. Why can't you just love him, goddamnit?! He'll try not to hurt you too much, but if you're not backing down he will use force to get you to stop.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Chuuya doesn't enjoy it in the slightest. His love for you isn't some 'game' and seeing you try to escape both infuriates and saddens him. All he truly wants is to be a happy, normal couple so your refusal to love him is not something he enjoys.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Chuuya isn't always fully aware of how strong he actually is, especially when he uses Corruption and becomes out of control. This can lead to a terrifying situation where you're worried for your life as a monster in your boyfriend's body goes on a rampage and destroys everything around him. It rarely happens, as Chuuya really doesn't want to hurt you, but when it does it's a living nightmare.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Honestly, Chuuya doesn't really know what kind of future he wants for him and his darling, but ideally you two would move to some beautiful island — somewhere in the Caribbean, maybe? — get married, possibly start a family and live out the rest of your days in bliss.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Luckily, Chuuya isn't insanely possessive and doesn't lash out just because you looked at someone else, but he is paranoid. He has to keep you away from other people because, what if they attempt to hurt you? The only instance where he would genuinely become jealous is if Dazai was involved. This is when you'll see his full yandere side come out and it will be extreme: locking you up in highly secure room, restraining you, putting tracking devices in everything you own, anything to ensure your safety. If you were to show an interest in Dazai, whether platonic or even worse, romantic, his paranoia and jealousy would spike up tenfold — essentially guaranteeing you'll never see the light of day again.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Chuuya is generally really loving and calm towards his darling, still messing with them and lovingly calling them an idiot, but always so soft when speaking. However, if you were to be a brat, his rougher, more 'mafia' side would make an appearance— any soft words of reassurance thrown out the window.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

The 'traditional' way: flirting with you, taking you out on fancy dates and gifting you jewellery and flowers. He may seem smooth but he usually has to ask people (Kouyou) or the internet for advice on how to win someone's affections. He's also very observant to what you're interested in, so if you mention preferring movies to fancy dinners, that's where your next date will be.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes, but in a good way. Instead of being his 'tough executive' persona, when he's around you, he'll reveal a much sweeter and softer side of himself. He's also surprisingly affectionate, taking every opportunity to be as close to you as possible.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Chuuya doesn't generally plan out punishment, he tends to go into a fit of rage and attack you with whatever is nearest. Usually it results in you being choked, slammed repeatedly against the floor or him almost breaking your ribs with his foot. Once he's calmed down is when he will decide on a proper punishment, such as keeping you restrained to the bed, taking away certain privileges or maybe if you've really done something bad... a more permanent solution will be used.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As long as his darling was relatively compliant, Chuuya's only real restriction would be the ability to go outside alone without the safety of his watchful eye. Of course, if you betrayed his trust, any hint of freedom you had previously would be stripped away.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Chuuya tries to be patient, he really does, but he's just so hotheaded that he often ends up snapping at his darling whenever they act up in the slightest.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

To put it simply: no. No one else can make Chuuya feel this way, and without his wonderful darling, he feels distanced from the world. It is likely he would continue working for the Port Mafia (unless they were involved in your escape/death), a mere shell of his former self only existing to serve the mafia rather than actually living.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Chuuya would feel a small amount of guilt if he had to kidnap you, but his belief that it's necessary for your protection would overrule the guilt. He would absolutely never let you go, you're like the anchor that keeps him human; he cannot lose you.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Like Dazai, Chuuya feels almost inhuman, like he is a foreigner in someone else's body, yet when he brushed hands with you, he felt something real. This is what drives him to get to know you: the desperation to be human. The more he spends time with you, the more this feeling increases — leading him to be unable to just allow you to leave him. Ironically, he becomes less human the more time he devotes to you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Chuuya really doesn't like seeing you upset, and it hurts his heart having to punish you when you're so upset, but some things are just a necessary evil. If you've done something he considers to be really bad, he will be apathetic to your tears, believing you deserve whatever you're suffering.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Unlike a lot of yanderes, Chuuya does respect your boundaries to a degree, and won't force you to do anything you really protest against (aside from letting you go, of course).

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Chuuya has to leave for work nearly everyday, so if you're smart and able to break locks, you have a fairly good chance of escaping. However, even if you do escape, Chuuya will find you again, and he won't take the betrayal lightly.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Chuuya has a pretty short temper, especially when it comes to the safety of his darling, so if you persistently tried to escape or "put yourself in danger" (interacting with Dazai, refusing food), he may snap. As stated previously, he doesn't enjoy your pain, but sometimes it's necessary to get you to listen.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Despite his sometimes arrogant nature, Chuuya sees his darling as on an entirely separate level to himself. He practically worships you, though he doesn't always like to show it (he's got to keep up his tough guy persona after all) and would gladly do anything you asked. His loyalty to you is even able to override his loyalty to the Port Mafia.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Chuuya would make an effort to woo you, buying you flowers and taking you out on fancy dinners, hoping that you'll end up wanting to be in a relationship with him. He'll vehemently deny being so desperate to be with you, but it's pretty obvious he's hopelessly in love. If you were to continuously reject his advances, he may eventually end up kidnapping you, but only if he thought you were in danger (or that another person was making a move on you).

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If he did end up breaking you, it wouldn't be intentional. All Chuuya wants is your unconditional love and affection, but he can get desperate if you're not showing it and will make you say how much you love him, even if you have to be put through hell to achieve it.

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari Characters: Nara Shikamaru, Temari (Naruto), Yamanaka Ino, Sai (Naruto), Akimichi Chouji, Karui (Naruto), Nara Clan Additional Tags: Mafia AU, Romance, Eventual Smut, BAMF Nara Shikamaru, Explicit Language, Smut

Hello deers!  I absolutely love Mafia AU's so I got inspired to write one for ShikaTema.  It gets pretty steamy from the beginning and this theme will pretty much carry through the whole story.  Still, I hope that you enjoy it!

I’m going to be updating this post as I add new chapters. :D

Summary:

Money, power, and women were all at Shikamaru's fingertips as the head of the Nara Crime Family. He had all that he could wish for as he ruled his empire with an iron fist. An encounter with a troublesome blonde was enough for him to risk it all on one night.

Chapter 1:  Opening Move

Chapter 2:  Queen’s Gambit

Chapter 3:  Luck

Chapter 4: Castling

Chapter 5: Protecting the Queen

Chapter 6: Deflection

Chapter 7: En Passant

Chapter 8: Capture 

Chapter 9: Checkmate

*

**

Shikamaru’s midnight eyes surveyed the crash of sweaty bodies moving and pulsating to a heavy beat. He took a long drag of his cigarette overwhelmed by the sheer number of people and heavy bass. It wasn’t often that he made the trek out here.  Typically depending on his associates to check on their businesses.  His father told him though that it was important for the king to be seen by his people.  

For so long his family had to operate in the shadows.  That was no longer the case.  The Naras, Akimichis, and Yamanakas ruled this area.  Government officials, police officers, “powerful” people were all on their payroll.  Very few things happened in this city without them knowing.  Everyone knew who they were and they no longer tried to hide it.  

When he was younger he’d complained constantly that this was a drag. He never wanted to become the head of the Nara crime family.  It wasn’t his choice, it was his destiny.  Still, he grew into the role and had accomplished more than they’d ever dreamed. Their empire was now strong and vast. Power and money were his.  And yet there was an emptiness in his chest. 

He didn’t delight in the benefits of being an infamous crime boss. The club was far too loud. The women who threw themselves at him were too troublesome.  A lot of strings and losses came with power. And it was all becoming far too tiresome. 

His eyes continued to scan the room before they fell upon one person in the crowd. His heart began to beat wildly and an excited shiver ran through him. From where he stood he could tell she was a striking blonde but there was something different.  Like a beacon drawing him in. A feeling unlike he’d ever experienced before. 

He studied her for a while.  She was clearly a good worker never taking a minute to rest between drinks.  He typically didn’t involve himself in the day to day operations of their various businesses. He trusted his associates to do thorough background checks and to hire the best. Once he got a name he’d have to check through her file. 

Shikamaru became increasingly frustrated as she flirted and smiled at the club patrons.  They didn’t deserve her attention especially when all of his was on her. His hands clutched painfully around the balcony railing as he tried to keep his anger in check. 

Shikamaru called his security detail over.

“The blonde bartender, bring her to my office.”

“Yes sir.” 

Shikamaru continued to stare as she gazed up towards him with a confused glare. Part of him hoped that when they met she would bore him like the rest. She’d be good for a quick fuck and then he could send her on her way. The intellectual side of him knew that wouldn’t be the case. 

Temari took a deep breath as she followed the large man down the dimly lit hall.  

She’d only started working at the club for a few weeks now.  It was an easy enough job.  She was able to make a pretty decent amount of money, especially from tips.  It was amazing how easily these men opened up their wallets when a pretty girl smiled at them.  

She couldn’t imagine what she had done in such a short time to gain the interests of the Nara clan head. 

When she applied for the job she had already been well aware of who actually owned it.  Their family owned everything in this town. She wasn’t worried though.  What interest could they have in a regular bartender?  As far as she knew it was just a popular club with lines out the door on most nights.  It was a veritable pot of gold.  She needed the money for herself and her brothers. So whatever reason that Nara had for summoning her she knew that she needed to play nice. 

This was despite her natural inclinations.  She had to remain calm and quiet lest she enrages the infamous mob boss.  Their reign and crimes had been known far and wide and she didn’t want to be a victim of his anger. 

The room was small but well furnished.  Despite the fear in her bones it was warm and inviting.  

Temari looked up, finding him sitting in a large chair with a cigarette pressed between his lips.  She’d never known what he actually looked like but he was undeniably handsome.  Sharp features with a hint of darkness around him.  His hair was pulled back away from his face as his deep eyes studied her. The expensive well-fitting suit framed him perfectly. He seemed to be younger than her but his eyes held a lifetime of painful memories.   

The Nara wasn’t what she expected at all.  She’d imagine some sort of large overweight cartoonish figure that wore an obnoxious outfit.  This dark and dangerous man was like something out of her fantasy.

A delighted shiver ran through her. Unlike the fear she had experienced before there was a tinge of excitement and want.  

He placed his cigarette down in favor of leaning forward to stare at her, his chin resting against steepled fingers.  She could see dark swirls of a tattoo peeking from beneath the shirt cuffs. 

 “Your name?”  Even his cool voice was making her wet. 

“Temari, sir.”  Surprising her he grinned.  

“I have enough yes men in my life.  You are allowed to speak freely here, on my honor you will not be harmed for anything you say.”

“You mean your honor as a criminal-”  She bit her lip feeling her stomach drop.  Her father always told her that her mouth would get her in trouble. 

Surprising her yet again he chuckled in response.  “I have no shame in what I do or what my family has done.  Criminal might be an overestimation.  Your elected officials, police officers, those who are meant to uphold the law.  They are all under my command, so who is the greater criminal?  The one who knows the crimes that they commit or the ones that believe themselves to be above them?”

“I doubt that you came here to discuss ethics.”

He smirked at the response, this interaction so different from what he was familiar with.  He strode over, his shadow falling over her.  “Are you not afraid of me?”

There was now hardly any space between them and the once warm room felt far too hot. He was too close and she could smell the cigarette on his breath. “If you were going to kill me, it would have been done already.”  She replied breathlessly but instantly regretted it.  

Despite his promise, she knew that she should still watch her words. The self-preservation part of her was too slow to stop her mouth. Or perhaps she was becoming drunk off his intoxicating scent of pine trees and smoke. She took a deep inhale wanting to commit the smell to memory. 

“You’re sharp.”  Temari breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed to be amused by her.

“You have to be growing up the way that I did.  If you don’t mind, I am on the clock and the time that I am wasting here I could be making money.”  She needed to get away.  This devastatingly attractive man was doing something to her and she wouldn’t be able to take care of it till she got home. 

“How much do you typically make a night here?”

“On a good night $300.”

He pulled out a stack of bills from his pocket before placing it in her hand. “Here, there’s at least a grand.  Is it enough to stop you from trying to leave?”

Despite needing the money her arms crossed.  “I’m not some hired whore.”

“I never said that you were.  Seeing that I am technically your boss, I am just paying you for any lost wages.”  

“Do you always have something to say?”  

His lips curved into a grin.  “My mother always told me that my mouth would get me in trouble.”  For some reason imagining that this larger than life man had a nagging mother made him seem...normal.  

“So, why am I here?”  She prayed that it was for the same reason that she wanted. 

“I don’t quite know myself.  I saw you there and something just made me want to meet you.”  His fingers casually trailed over the length of her throat along to her shoulder.  Traveling over the skin her dress left exposed. Goosebumps erupted where his hands moved. He’d barely touched her and she was already soaked. 

“Why?”  She breathed as his hand came to take a possessive grip on her waist.  “I’m no one.”

“I highly doubt that.  Even speaking with you for just 5 minutes has shown me that you are really something quite special and I've learned to read people quite well.”  He replied as his face buried itself into her hair as he took a deep breath.  She smelled like an ocean breeze and it was disorienting.  

“Do you do this to all the women who work for you?”  Temari demanded trying to keep her wits about her.  

“Jealous?”  He asked as his fingers trailed beneath the hem of her dress.

“Of course not.”  She replied sharply trying to fight back a moan at his warm hands traveled to grab the swell of her ass. 

“Good, because you’re wrong.  This is the first time someone has ever interested me in this way.”  Flutters erupted in her stomach at the idea that she could have captured the attention of someone in his position.  

Taking her own chance, her hands moved up his chest to cross behind his head, her fingers playing with the stray hairs at his neck. Lust and want were pushing her. How long had it been since anyone had made her feel this way? Had anyone even come close? 

“So what now…”

His lips traced along her throat as he pulled her flush against his chest delighting in her gasp of shock.  She was surprised to feel how hard he was and had to still her hips from moving against him.  

“It’s up to you.”  His voice was hot and desperate against her skin.  “Because of the position that I am in I don't get to imagine tomorrows.  So all I ask is just for one night.”

“Just a night”  She panted as he continued to layer kisses along her skin from her shoulder towards her exposed cleavage.  

His tongue and lips left a wet trail along her skin.  

“That’s all.  No strings, no expectations, just us.  Whatever your conditions are is fine.  I need to fuck you and It’s pretty obvious that you want me too.”  She felt his smug smile between her breasts.  His thumbs rubbed the tight nubs.  She held her breath as his hands massaged and manipulated her sensitive tits. 

In spite of herself, she couldn’t help the moan that fell from her lips.  

“Fuck, you don’t know what that sound does to me Trouble.”

“More, please.”  She begged thoughtlessly and his hands made quick work of pulling her dress down below her tits.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”  He breathed before his mouth descended over her.  She cried out as he bit and sucked at her heavy chest. She arched up chasing that delicious feeling. 

Despite what she actually wanted she managed to ground out. “Wait.”

Shikamaru immediately released her, taking a step back. “Sorry, Temari-”

She shook her head before pulling him back. “No trust me that was perfect and I do want you.”  At the admission, he returned to worshiping her heavy mounds.  

She had to bite back a moan to get her point out. “But if this is really just going to be a one-night thing let’s make it interesting.”  

“How so?”  

“Let’s go out, get something to eat.”  Temari couldn’t believe what she was asking for. Yes, a quick fuck would be more than enough. For whatever reason though, she didn’t want the night to end. 

He was in shock and just a bit of awe at the situation.  Most women easily spread their legs if he showed any interest. Why did he relish in challenges?  Why was he entertaining the idea? 

“I don’t just go out or go on dates.  I’m not a good man. I could easily take what I want from you.  Why can’t I?”  He groaned against her flushed chest. 

“You tell me.  You seem to have an answer for everything. Here’s what I think. When I asked you to wait you did.  You’re a criminal but you’re not a monster.”  She told him with a soft smile with her fingers in his hair. That smile could bring him to his knees. 

“You think much too highly of me. Trouble.”  He replied taking deep inhales in her hair. 

“I don’t think that I do.” 

“A date.” 

If he was right and they did only have one night together Temari was going to make it last.  

“That's what I want to do.  And you said that any of my conditions were fine with you.  Maybe get to know each other just a little bit first.”  

His finger slowly grazed her face before drawing her gaze back up.  It was like those teal eyes could see right through him.  “You might not like what you find.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”  He met the challenge in her eyes with his own steely glare.  She was so damn troublesome and it would be much easier to find some other willing woman to help him get off.  That person wouldn’t be Temari though. 

“Fine Trouble if that’s what you want.  We will go out but if you think that this silly attempt at keeping me from what I want is going to stop me you’re mistaken.”

She made a show of fixing her dress before drawing him into a kiss.  His lips were hot and demanding against hers but she responded in kind. Aggressive and lustful, her tongue slid against his. She felt him walk them back. Her back hitting the door so he could put his full weight against her.  

Shikamaru very rarely kissed his conquests. Fucking could be emotionless and raw. Kissing felt far too intimate. Kissing Temari though he couldn’t help but crave.  She was so soft and pliant against him.  It had been so long since he’d had anything so sweet. 

“Are you just used to getting what you want immediately?”  She teased him, her lips still against his.  He hiked her leg around his waist grounding his erection against her overheated pussy. 

“Most people know better than to push me.”  He groaned, taking quick bites along her neck. His cock was already so hard in his pants and this troublesome blonde was only making it worse. 

“Don’t be a cry baby about it. Maybe waiting will make it that much sweeter.” 

“I can’t imagine your pussy being any sweeter than it already is.”  He replied with a grin as his fingers moved up her thigh and towards her wet cunt teasing her hard clit.  Wanting to draw out those sweet cries from her.  

“We don’t have to go out to eat. I can eat your pussy right here.” 

She pulled him back into a demanding kiss. It wasn’t a bad idea but she’d already made her move. “Fuck, your mouth won’t get you in trouble. That tongue will.”  She cried, throwing her head back. 

His thumb rubbed against her kiss swollen lips. “And that’s exactly where I’ll expect it to be later on tonight.” 

“Come on, let’s go.”  After a few more heated kisses Temari was able to pull back wanting to see her request through. Needing just a little space. This man was far too disarming. 

“Well you’ve sucked my tits and felt me up, I think that I deserve a first name Nara.” 

He threw his jacket over her shoulders before leading her back down that dimly lit hallway. His arm wrapped protectively around her waist. 

“It’s Shikamaru.” 

“Shikamaru.” She repeated back and the sound of his name on her lips sent a shudder through him. 

This Temari was dangerous. He knew that she couldn’t actually physically hurt him but the damage could be much worse. Still, when she looked at him with that all too charming grin and excitement in her teal eyes he couldn’t help but want to take the risk.

Once they reached the streets she stopped him to pull him into another kiss. It was far more gentle than the lust-fueled ones that they’d shared.  A genuine smile crossed his lips when she looked up at him. 

“Be careful, a date with me can be quite a drag.”

*

**

I was going to write this and keep it to myself but I loved it too much and I hope that you do too!!  I have another story for Sai/Ino and one in the works for Chouji/Karui that will all happen in this same universe. It's going to go fast because I have no patience or energy for a slow burn. There will be some twists and turns though!  Thanks for reading!  Love, love you all!

Update: I have a Stalemate/ShikaTema playlist on spotify but is there a way to share it but it’s not associated with my personal account?  Hmmm either way if I decide to share it I’ll add a link here.

[breanime]

Helpless (Part Five)

Guess who ain’t dead? THIS SERIES! Thank you sooooo much for your patience you guys, I hope this was worth the wait. Also, before I begin, I’d like to give a public thank you to @something-tofightfor​​ for talking me through my anxiety with this fic. Thanks for being a sounding board for me. 

Quick recap (since it’s been a few months): You’re a talented getaway driver for a heist team led by your adopted father, crime lord Joseph Yakavetta. During your last heist, things go wrong, Yakavetta kills one of your crew, then shoots and kills your brother, Ronnie, when he tries to walk away. Heartbroken and now totally alone, you decide to work with Homeland Security to bring Yakavetta down as their witness. But it’s a dangerous gig, so the lead agent of your case, Dinah Madani, hires an outside consultant to work as your security detail: Billy Russo. The thing is, though, that you’ve met him before. A year ago, you and Billy met in a bar and started a steamy affair until one day... he just stopped calling. Now he’s your personal bodyguard, and after spending a few days cooped up in safe houses with him, you can’t resist your attraction to him, and the two of you sleep together. It made for a good distraction for the emotional turmoil you were going through, but now you were stuck with Billy for who knows how long--just the two of you...and a lot of unresolved feelings. 

*banner by @starkrobb​​*

You slept like a rock, no bad dreams—no dreams at all, just a solid night of sleep for the first time in a long time. You blinked, lying on your side, staring at the wall. You were naked, and you knew you didn’t put yourself to bed last night, which meant…

Billy.

Billy must have carried you and tucked you in last night. The thought made your face burn, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You groaned; just that small bit of movement made you realize just how sore you were. You licked your lips, thinking about the feel of Billy on top of you, inside of you, the way his hips slammed into you… Fuck. The two of you fucked. You sat up, wincing at the delicious ache in your muscles and hips. Billy always left you with sore limbs and fond memories, and when you used to fantasize about those times, you would get a little thrill thinking about it, but now… As you woke up naked and alone, all you could think about was the day he stopped answering your calls.

You rolled onto your stomach, burying your chin in your pillow. It didn’t matter. Billy did you a favor, helping you release some of that tension that came with being a wanted woman. He was doing you a favor by protecting you. He said something before, about taking this assignment (you) for “personal reasons”, but whatever curiosity he had about you, you were sure he was cured of it now. Hell, he did you a favor by falling off the face of the earth a year ago. You were getting too used to him, looking forward to spending time with him, thinking about him when he wasn’t with you—that wasn’t you. You were speed. You were the roar of an engine. You were burning rubber. You didn’t pine. Billy saved you from that. You should be—you were—grateful.

And hell, besides that—who had time to wonder about why Billy stopped calling you a year ago? Your brother was dead. The thought hit you like a bullet—like the bullet that had taken Ronnie down, and you closed your eyes. A new pain, a visceral, scorching pain, went through you like a bolt of lightning. Ronnie. It was like you were hit with his death every time you woke up; you’d have a few seconds of blissful ignorance when you first woke up before you remembered: you were all alone in the world, and you would stay like that.

Billy didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d slept well that night, better than he had in a slew of nights, but when he woke up, he couldn’t turn his mind off. All he could do was think of last night; the feel of you wrapped around him, the sweet sounds you made, the way you said his name… It had been different, this last time, than it’d been before when the two of you were just fooling around. Things seemed… more charged. Billy was pacing, cutting a trail in the floorboards from the kitchen, to the living room, and back. He shouldn’t have done that, but damn, he didn’t regret it, not when he could still taste you on his tongue.

Fuck, he’d missed fucking you.

All this time, all the meaningless hook-ups and one-night stands, they meant nothing to Billy, never have. But you. Man, you stuck in his mind like a fucking bullet in the flesh, unavoidable and final. He thought that this… job… was going to bring him some kind of closure, but instead, he was more involved than ever. He turned, starting his trail again, and thought about the feel of your warm cheek under his lips when he kissed you goodnight, the feel of you in his arms as he carried you up to your bed. He didn’t know why it felt so right, but it did.

And that terrified him.

Billy never needed anybody, the closest things he had to loved ones were Frank and Curtis, and he’d fucked that up. But now… with you? He felt like a fucking junkie, everything on his plate, all the shit he had to do, and all he could think about was how bad he wanted his next fix. He heard movement upstairs and froze. He wondered what you were thinking. You’d asked him to have sex with you because you were bored and getting cabin fever… but he couldn’t help but wonder—hope, even—that maybe you felt that same kind of uncontrollable connection that he did. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to get his heart rate under control before you came down the steps. He felt like shit, like he was in the same league as Homeland, taking advantage of you. But he also knew that wasn’t the case. He didn’t know what it was, but Billy knew he felt…something for you. Genuine feelings of tenderness that he hadn’t even know he was capable of. But now that he knew, he had no idea what the hell to do with those feelings.

He stopped, turning towards the stairs as he heard you coming down. “Hey,” he greeted you, nodding.

“Hey…” You said back.

You were wearing a sweater that Billy wanted to help you out of, and he glanced away, making an effort to control the desire that he was sure was showing in his eyes. “You okay?” He asked, half because he needed something to say, and half because he was genuinely curious.

“Mm hmm,” you said, walking past him and into the kitchen, “You hungry?”

Billy put his hands in his pockets, watching as you started gathering pots and pans and placing them on the stove. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Eggs? Pancakes?” You asked, going to the fridge.

“Kinda late for breakfast.”

You stopped and glanced up at the clock. It was well after 1 pm. “Oh.” You stopped. “Lunch then?”

“Sure,” he agreed, taking a seat at the table. He watched you, frowning as you moved about the kitchen. You were avoiding making eye contact with him, and he didn’t like it. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, drizzling oil onto a pan, “I’m good.”

“You’re acting kind of jumpy,” Billy went on.

“I said I was fine.”

“Is this because we had sex?” He asked, casually blunt.

You stopped, hand on the handle of the pan. A moment passed; you didn’t move, and neither did Billy. Finally, you turned to face him. “Why’d you stop calling?” You asked.

Now Billy froze. “What?”

You put your hand on your hip. “Before. Last year. Why’d you stop calling me? And why’d you stop answering my calls? You just fell off the face of the earth.”

Billy licked his lips. “I was… I had to leave town,” he answered, “to take care of some business.”

“Mm…” You nodded. “But why didn’t you just call me and tell me that?”

He bristled. This wasn’t how he imagined the morning after to go. “What does it matter?” He asked back. “It’s in the past.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Billy watched your walls go up, and he wondered if this was what people felt when he blocked himself off to them—the surprise and uncertainty and… hurt? Shit.

“You’re right,” you said, turning around again, “it doesn’t matter. Forget I asked.”

Shit. Billy stood up, unsure of what to say or do. “Y/N—”

“—It’s fine,” you said, your back still turned to him.

“Hey,” Billy put a hand on your shoulder, making you turn, “I don’t… That wasn’t…” He rolled his neck, trying to find what he wanted to say. “…Hold on.” The look in your eyes; closed off and guarded, man… You should never look like that, especially when you were with him. You opened your mouth, and Billy knew he couldn’t stand to hear another “it’s fine”, so he stopped you from speaking—

—by kissing you.

You melted into his touch easily, and Billy picked you up and set you down on the table, his mouth never leaving yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist, groaning into the kiss when his hands gripped your ass, bringing you even closer. He pulled back suddenly, his dark eyes wide and unblinking, and your breath caught in your throat as you stared back at him.

“I—” you began.

“Be quiet,” he growled out, head turning to look behind him, “someone’s outside.”

“What?” You whispered, hopping off of the table, heart pounding—or at least, pounding for a different reason now.

Billy reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out a gun that you had no idea he’d been wearing. “You remember the code?” He asked you, eyes still glaring off into the distance, seeing and hearing things that were lost to you.

You nodded. “Uh, yeah… 3-7-2…5-6?”

“3-7-2-6-5,” he said, taking your wrist and pulling you to the corner of the kitchen—away, you realized, from all of the windows and doors, “Stay here.” He took a step forward, but stopped when his phone rang. He groaned, and you watched the tension bleed out of his shoulders. “Madani,” he said around a weary sigh, “that you out there?”

You sighed, too. Great. Madani was here, which probably meant… Well, you didn’t know what it meant—it could mean Homeland cut the funding for your personal security and you were fucked, or it could mean they arrested Joe and you’d have to testified—and were fucked—or maybe it meant you could actually go into real Witness Protection and would have to say goodbye to Billy and…were fucked.

“Why?” He asked, heading towards the door. “Of course she’s here, where else would she be?” He opened the door and hung up the phone, frowning down at Madani. “This is not procedure,” he said as a greeting.

“This location’s been compromised,” Madani said, marching into the room, “You can’t stay here.”

“What?” You and Billy asked at the same time. Your heart was racing yet again, and suddenly the room seemed much too small.

“That’s impossible,” Billy said.

“There’s been…” Madani’s eyes darted from you, to Billy, and back again. “…Yakavetta’s influence has reached Homeland. Someone has been bugging my office, and they hacked my accounts, and…” She took a breath. “Stein and I found the bug,” she finished, “but it’s not safe for you to be here anymore, I… I’m sorry.”

“Fucking Homeland…” Billy muttered, stalking upstairs. “Don’t let her out of your sight!” He called down.

You pointed your thumb over at Madani. “He talkin’ to you or me?” You asked.

“I really am sorry, Y/N,” Madani said around a sigh, “I thought… I should have been more careful… I knew there were cops and agents on the take, but I never thought…” She shook her head. “This goes deeper than I thought it did; Yakavetta has reach in places I never anticipated. We have to rethink our strategy here.” She took a step towards you. “Russo will keep you safe, Y/N, and I’ll make sure this never happens again. I never meant to—”

“—What?” Billy asked, coming back down with two bags slung over his shoulder. “You never meant to dangle her out in front of Yakavetta like a carrot? Or you did, but you just didn’t mean for his guys to be that quick on the draw and track us down?”

“I miss calculated,” Madani’s jaw was clenched, “It could have happened to anyone, Russo.”

“Right,” he rolled his eyes, “I need five minutes to clear this place out,” he turned to you, “I already got your stuff,” he informed you, “I need you to eat something real quick, then we’re heading out.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as he stalked off.

His answer came from the next room: “Away.”

“Hey,” Madani took hold of your arm and pulled you close, “listen, I know my office probably doesn’t look very good to you right now—”

“—I mean, I’d be lying if I said I was impressed,” you drawled.

“—But Russo…” She leaned in. “He’s the best, I’ll admit, but he’s… He isn’t…” She sighed. “Just don’t… Don’t fall for the charm,” she warned, voice low, “He’s good looking and competent, and I know that can be…”

Irresistible.

“…Attractive,” she went on, “but he’s not your knight in shining armor, so just… Just don’t fall for it, alright?”

You stepped back. What the hell? “So who, exactly, is my knight in shining armor? Homeland Security, whose home isn’t even secure?” You asked, crossing your arms. “No offense, but I’ll take my chances with Billy.” With that, you turned and went to the stove, following Billy’s instructions to eat before it was time to go. You sighed; you could still feel his lips on yours…

...You could still feel Ronnie’s cold body in your arms.

About five minutes later, Billy was packing you into the car and muttering some orders and specifics to Madani.

“Is this going to mess up your business?” You asked as Billy drove, trying to distract yourself from the ache that came with being in a car but not being behind the wheel. “The whole safehouse being compromised thing?”

“Nah,” he answered, “This shit is on Homeland, not Anvil. And even with it being compromised, we could have stayed there if we had enough firepower, but…” He shrugged one-shoulder, and the action paired with the sight of Billy Russo behind the wheel (driving with one hand), made you ache for a completely different reason. “This operation works best on stealth…” He glanced over at you. “We should talk about what happened in the kitchen.”

“With Madani?”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

You sighed, sinking down into your seat. “So you’re a talker all of a sudden, Russo?”

He chuckled. “I guess so…” He glanced over at you. “Look, I know we kind of crossed a line last night…”

“Kind of?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side.

“…and this morning,” he went on, “But I’m gonna be honest with you… I just…” He took a breath. “You took me by surprise.”

You smirked. “I tend to do that.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean in general. When you came into my life, I was… I wasn’t looking for anything special, wasn’t looking to get attached but…” He looked like he was swallowing nails. “I think I did.”

“You think?”

He glanced over at you, his dark eyes serious. “I did,” he amended, “I know I did. And I know it isn’t the same for you—”

“—How do you know that?” You asked. “How would you ever have known what it was like for me when you just abandoned me?” You sat up, twisting in your seat so that you could face him. You felt your chest tightened, and it was only in that moment that you realized just how hurt you’d been from Billy disappearing on you like that. “It’s not like—not like I wanted anything from you,” you went on, “We were just hooking up, and I know you had no obligation to me, and that’s how we both wanted it, but…” You sat back again, deflating. “I dunno, man… It was just shitty.”

Billy sighed. “Yeah, I know. It… It wasn’t my intention, to just ghost you like that, but that’s what ended up happening, and… You didn’t deserve that.” His hand flexed on the wheel, and you wondered if he was going to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. “And you don’t deserve this—what Homeland’s doing to you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “They’re the least of my problems.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Billy assured you, “I’ll protect you.”

You bit your lip, silently reminding yourself why Billy was even here in the first place—this was a job to him. You were a job to him. You turned, staring out the window. Everything was moving so fast, the fields and road and clouds, and that was the way you liked it. Speed had always been your primary setting, and you felt safe and secure behind the wheel. Your grip around yourself tightened. It’d been a long time since you’d felt that way. Though, truth be told, you’d gotten a small fix last night with Billy—fleeting as it was. In order to distract yourself, you tried to focus in on the sound of the engine and the low whipping of wind hitting the outside of the car. But there was another sound—a very familiar sound—that was building as you listened on. You perked up, and you could feel Billy’s eyes on you. “You hear that?” You asked.

“Hear what?”

“That,” you answered, sitting up now, “the sound of a souped-up engine!”

“Shit,” Billy’s eyes were on the rearview mirror now, and he put both hands on the wheel, “We’re being tailed.”

You turned, and sure enough, there were three black cars coming in fast. Your mouth watered at the sight and sound of them. “Homeland?”

“Not a chance,” Billy said, “Here,” he reached in his pocket and handed you his phone in a surprisingly intimate gesture, “text Madani and tell her we’re being followed.”

You did as you were told, turning to see the cars getting closer with each passing second. “We gotta lose them.”

“I know,” Billy said between clenched teeth, “sit back…”

“I can do it,” you offered, “I can drive—”

“—No.”

You frowned. “Why not? I know what I’m doing, I can—”

Your train of thought was interrupted by the shattering of glass, and Billy reached over and pushed you down, covering you with his upper body and arms. You heard a pop and realized they were shooting at you. You covered your head with your arms.

“Stay down!” Billy called out, taking out a gun and pointing it out the window, letting off a round of shots. The car swerved as he aimed, and he grabbed the wheel with his free hand, trying to keep control of the car. “Shit!”

There were more shots, and you flinched, brushing the broken glass out of your hair before looking back up at Billy. He had shards of glass sticking out of his arm—the one covering you and grasping the wheel—and he was trying to shot back, but he was having a hard time doing that while driving.

“Let me help,” you said, reaching over and grabbing the wheel.

“I don’t—”

“—We don’t have time to argue,” you interrupted, “You shot; I’ll drive!”

“Shit,” he said again, “Fine.” Billy pulled you into his lap, and you grabbed the wheel. “Keep heading straight,” he said as he turned, another gun suddenly in his hand, “then turn down the sideroad.”

“Yeah,” you grinned, foot over Billy’s on the accelerator, “Got it.” Fuck—it felt amazing being behind the wheel again. You turned, grin widening as the third car crashed into the bushes when it tried to follow you. Billy was shooting freely now, and you could tell he’d hit his mark a few times, because the other two cars were lagging behind now, trying to avoid getting shot. You eased up on the gas a bit, so that Billy could take his next shot, and he did—hitting the driver of the second car. You watched as the car veered off into the side of the road, leaving one left.

“Can you lead this guy under that bridge?” Billy asked. He had ducked back into the car to reload, and he pointed ahead with his chin. There was a low bridge a few miles ahead.

You nodded. “I’m on it.”

You moved the car expertly—slightly impressed with the strength of it—and slowed down just enough for the other car to think he had you before speeding up again. Billy was shooting at will, but you could tell that he was purposefully missing the driver; only a true marksman could hit the kind of deliberate targets that he was hitting.

“I need to get a look at the driver,” Billy said, twisting underneath you as he shot towards the other car, “Can you…?”

“I gotcha,” you said. You hit turned the wheel, grinning as the smell of rubber wafted through the air, and circled the car that had been following you. Expertly, you maneuvered your car so that it was now on the side of your assailant. “Good enough?” You asked, ducking in case the guy shot.

You needn’t had worried. “Perfect,” Billy grinned, taking his gun and shooting the man right between the eyes, his aim impeccable. You moved the car so it wouldn’t be hit as the last car—now driverless—spun out of control. Billy gripped your waist with his free hand and putting the other over yours on the wheel. “Pull over.”

As soon as you were out of the car, Billy was in front of you, his hands on your face and arms, checking you for injuries. “You okay?” He asked, eyes searching you for any sign of hurt or discomfort.

“I’m great!” You laughed, covering your pounding heart with your hand. “Fuck, I—I needed that!” You turned, watching the clouds of smoke fill the air from the wrecks a few miles away. “Holy shit, did you see that? They were trying to kill us—to kill me!” You ran a hand through your hair. “Fuck, your car drives nice!”

“Hey,” Billy put both hands on either side of your face, stilling you, “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you breathed out.

“You sure? You’re not hurt?” He asked.

You gave another nod. “I’m fine, I—” You looked down at his arms. “—You’re bleeding.”

“Flesh wounds,” he said, dropping his hands and stepping back, “We need to get out of here.”

“Can I drive?” You asked eagerly.

Billy snorted, going to the trunk of the car and grabbing your bags. “We’re leaving the car.”

“What?”

“We’re setting it on fire, actually,” he said, dropping the bags at your feet. He had a can of gasoline in his other hand.

“What?!”

“Homeland’s been compromised,” he said, crouching down and digging through his bag. He stood up with some kind of bulky radio and a box of matches in his free hand. “That guy back there,” he gestured towards the nearest cloud of smoke, “He works in Madani’s office, I’ve seen him around before. This is more than just a bug; she’s got someone on the take in her own team…”

You watched, speechless, as Billy doused the car in gasoline. He struck a match and tossed it onto the hood, and the two of you stood there and watched it burn.

“So…” You looked at Billy, the shadow of the flames dancing on his handsome face. “…what next?”

“You still got my phone?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You held it out to him, but he didn’t take it.

“I need you to dial the security code, the one from the safehouse, and give the guy who answers this location.” He handed you the radio, which you realized was some kind of military grade GPS. “And here,” he reached down and pulled out a gun from his bag, “just in case,” he said, handing it to you. He turned to walk off.

“Wha—where are you going?” You asked.

Billy must have heard the fear in your voice, because he turned back and put a hand on the side of your face. His eyes were dark and deep, and as you looked into them, you could happily drown. “I’m gonna go back and make sure those guys are all dead,” he said honestly, “It’ll only take a minute. I need you to make this call, and I’ll be right back.”

You nodded. His surety had calmed you. “Yeah, okay…” You looked down at the phone. “The code’s 3-7-2—”

“Frank,” he answered, turning and walking off again, “the code spells Frank.”

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

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think; I actually tried prewriting for this series, and I have the next part written already! Love you guys, and thank you so much for reading! Happy Valentine’s day, my loves!

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[kylopen]

Dating an ‘edgy girl’

(House neutral)

Warnings: curse words.

Notes: some are set during the time you were at Hogwarts some aren’t.

Read the golden trio era version here

I don’t know why but it’s not letting me put the link down for this one so for the golden trio era one just go to my masterlist that is in my bio on my page

Sirius:

* As soon as you walked into the three broomsticks, he found himself looking.

* Trying to be subtle but leaning back on his chair to get a better look?

* Not so subtle.

* And then you approach their table, boots clicking against the floor.

* Sirius prepares himself for you to chat him up.

* And then you don’t.

* You simply ask if you can take one of their chairs.

* Baffled boi.

* Lily covers her mouth to hold in her laugh.

* Remus gives him a pat on the back “better luck next time”

* He would try to defend himself and say that you probably got too nervous to talk to him.

* “Or maybe she just needed a chair?” Lily would add with a giggle.

* You had heard all about Sirius’ reputation.

* He was a womaniser and you knew it. Best to stay away from that trouble.

* He ended up not being able to take his eyes off the girl who looked so different to the others.

* Your confidence and your odd sense of style made him feel all sorts of ways.

* As you and your friends leave he is quick to follow, holding your wrist.

* “Can we talk?”

* You’d nod and shoo your friends away.

* “I’m Sirius.” He’d hold out his hand for you to shake.

* “I know who you are”

* “Oh you do” he’d get all cocky.

* “Yeah the womaniser”

* His face drops.

* Oh shit.

* He was determined to make you realise he was serious about this.

* Rumours flew that Sirius hadn’t been seen with a girl in weeks

* So when he asked you on a date, you accepted but tried to act like you weren’t interested.

* But that smile.

* Those eyes.

* You fell for him faster than you’d care to admit.

* But he was the same.

* Your laugh was music to his ears and he wanted to hear it more.

* When the two of you finally got together, after weeks of Sirius hassling you, you agreed.

* A lot of people thought it would be a short fling:

* But weeks turned into months. Months to years.

* Both of your aesthetics fit so well.

* When you met Harry he loved you. Sirius knew he would.

* He hated how much heat you were under when he escaped from Azkaban.

* And because of how you looked people were quick to judge your involvement with the dark lord.

* That didn’t stop him from making you his wife when his name was cleared.

James:

* what a little shit.

* He made a joke about how you looked like Dracula’s wife.

* You cracked down on him.

* “Oh yeah specks?”

* He found his heart pounding at how you stood up for yourself the way you did.

* The confidence was jaw dropping.

* Lowkey turned him tf on

* He would follow you like a lost puppy from then on.

* “What is it potter”

* “I just got lost in your eyes that’s all. Trying to find my way out”

* He would be a real smart ass, learning what annoys you etc.

* Stupid little pick up lines.

* “Did you fall from heaven be—“

* You’d always stop him by finishing it.

* People couldn’t understand why the James Potter would be pining after someone so... well you know.

* No one. I repeat. No one could’ve pictured you two together until you actually got together.

* “Is it just me or do they actually look kind of good together?”

* No matter where you both went together you’d get odd looks.

* But he only saw how beautiful you were next to him.

Snape:

* You had met when you became one of the nurses at the school.

* It was the year Harry Potter had started.

* McGonagall made him go to the hospital wing despite his protests.

* You weren’t dressed in your work uniform as your shift was over but you had been called in hurriedly due to the troll.

* He couldn’t even look you in the eye.

* Not because he was intimidated by your dark exterior but more because he loved it.

* He expected you to roll your eyes in annoyance or tut but you didn’t.

* Your eyes. Your beautiful eyes crinkled as you smiled at him.

* There was no way that smile could be for him.

* But it was.

* “May I?” You gesture to his leg and he rolls up the trouser leg for you.

* You were so gentle and he couldn’t hell but melt into your touch.

* “This is a hell of a gash professor Snape”

* He would stay in silence for a moment before deciding on “Severus.”

* “Well Severus I have just the thing that’ll have that gone in a day”

* “Thank you miss...”

* “L/N. Y/N L/N”

* He would end up coming to the hospital wing frequently and you couldn’t help but giggle at the effort.

* “It’s a little scratch Severus”

* “But it hurts”

* “A potions master such as yourself would have plenty of things in his cupboard to help with the pain” you’d smirk.

* Blush blush blush.

* “Well I— I mean... you”

* “Would you like to have dinner with me Severus? We could pop into Hogsmeade”

* He would try to seem indifferent but he was buzzing on the inside.

* “I guess I could”

* Your relationship blossomed slowly but once he was comfortable enough to openly show you were together...

* You both looked the part.

* The king and queen of edge.

* The students wouldn’t believe that you had gone for Snape of all people.

* But you saw the kindness that was hidden by the shroud of darkness.

Lily:

* lily was a literal flower:

* So bright so beautiful so happy.

* People all assumed she would eventually end up with James, the rich, handsome boy.

* But she found herself drawn to another.

* You had met when you found her crying in the corner of the library.

* It was after she had been called a Mudblood by Snape.

* You didn’t like seeing her so sad.

* So you tried to cheer her up.

* “Can I... sit here?”

* She’d nod meekly and you’d place your books down on the table.

* “Are you okay?”

* “Oh yeah no. I am I just read a sad book that’s all.”

* She finally looks up.

* She was a little startled to find that the owner of the sweet voice was dressed so darkly.

* But she brushed that prejudice away as soon as it appeared.

* “Would you like to see a new spell I’ve learned?”

* You didn’t even give her a chance to answer as you made a beautiful rose bloom from the table.

* You rubbed your neck sheepishly as the colour remains black, not the white you were hoping for.

* “it’s beautiful” she’d crack a smile which made your heart melt.

* “I’m Lily by the way”

* “Y/N” you’d smile.

* People did not see this coming.

* Like no one did.

* When you started hanging around with her the boys were shook.

* Lily’s friends warmed to you pretty fast.

* James was a tad jealous:

* When you both got together, everyone was shook once more.

* The boys would make constant jokes about Lily liking girls.

* But honestly the two of you were so happy with each other.

* The black tulip and her pure lily.

Remus:

* You had heard of the rumours that surrounded Remus Lupin.

* You didn’t care much, it wasn’t like he had chosen that life.

* Either way it wasn’t proven and you weren’t going to judge him on rumours.

* You received backlash for the way you dressed anyways, an outsider you were.

* The first time you both had met was when you walked past them at their table in the great hall.

* “Hey Wolfy watch out it’s the vampire” a couple of boys would snicker.

* Lily would come to your defence, scolding the boys.

* “Yeah?” You’d turn and face them. ”if you’re not careful this vampire might get very angry and take all your blood until you’re an empty. Little. Sack”

* He was more than a little intrigued after witnessing that exchange and a little scared.

* The second time you met was in the astronomy tower. It was late into the night, way past curfew.

* you couldn’t sleep, so you made your way to the one place that could bring you peace.

* But it was taken. You spot his back as he stared out into the sky.

* You try to hide to give him privacy but he speaks out.

* “You can come out. I won’t bite” he would chuckle lightly.

* “I can’t promise the same” you’d joke and he’d turn to you with a smile.

* A smile that made your heart skip a beat.

* “So what’s the vampire doing up here and not in her coffin?”

* “What’s the werewolf doing up here and not in his doghouse”

* You’d both look at each other before laughing quietly.

* Neither of you expected to fall in love.

* You just did.

* It took Remus a long time to finally accept that someone really could love him.

* You were his knight in shining armour and you didn’t even know it.

[carmenlire]

Become Your Flower

read on ao3

Jimin sits down behind the register with a sigh. Working as a dining hall card swiper has one perk and one perk only-- it pays for the part of tuition not covered by loans and scholarships.

Thankfully today is only a two hour shift, not his usual four, and so as he reaches out to start swiping about a hundred campus I.D. cards, Jimin tells himself that it could be worse.

That’s never been truer towards the end of his shift, when his ass is mostly numb and he’s starting to look for his replacement to show up at any minute. On Thursday mornings, his replacement is always an extremely dour sophomore who spends more time on her shift looking at her phone than actually swiping meal plans.

Jimin’s seen regulars during her shifts swipe their own cards without hesitation as Jessica obliviously continues to stare at her phone.

Still. There’s about eight minutes left until shift change when Jimin sees him.

Jimin doesn’t know much about the guy that comes to the Dining Hall every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday morning. He knows that his fashion runs towards black oversized clothing and that he has eclectic taste in music, thanks to wildly varying noise that can be heard from his headphones that the student always, without fail, pulls down to around his neck when checking out.

It’s a small gesture, but Jimin appreciates the hint of politeness. They never talk more than the guy murmuring a small thanks as Jimin accepts his card and runs it, before he’s walking away.

On Tuesdays, the kid likes to sit for awhile at one of the small tables along the edge of the floor to ceiling windows in the dining area. Sometimes he's reading but more often than not, he has a sketchbook out or his laptop open and seems to be completely focused on its contents. On Mondays and Thursdays, he’s usually running around picking up his usual bottle of banana milk and a breakfast burrito or protein bar before barreling out and ostensibly off to class.

Maybe Jimin pays a bit more attention to him than he does to the other students he sees with unerring frequency but he just can’t help it. Jimin doesn’t know his name but he’s pieced together a dozen tidbits of information that all add up to making the guy someone he would love to get to know better.

At the top of that list? This guy somehow manages to be both a cutie and mouthwatering, dangerously hot. It’s a level of attractiveness that sometimes makes Jimin shy away in the face of such sheer beauty. For all his oversized clothing, the guy is built-- witnessed by the one time Jimin saw him out of the dining hall one evening when he spotted the guy walking back to his dorm from the gym.

In a sleeveless tank that showed off the tattoos winding their way up his arm, with his hair damp and falling into his eyes, Jimin was done for. The next time he’d seen his favorite customer, Jimin had fumbled with his card and it had fallen to the floor.

As he’d felt his face start to burn with embarrassment at his clumsiness, the cute guy had dropped and picked up his I.D., handing it over to Jimin again with a small smile before leaving promptly like always.

Inside, Jimin had been dying but he’d managed to give a curt nod of thanks and acknowledgement back-- mostly after the guy had left but still. He’d tried.

All of which, brings Jimin to now where cute student walks into the cafeteria looking like death warmed over. His hoodie swallows him up and his hair is a mess-- looks like a combination of having left his place without running a brush through it, like he’s been running a hand through it in frustration instead. He’s single minded as he walks to the cooler where flavored milks are kept and Jimin thanks the little lull just after breakfast time for being able to, unobtrusively of course, watch the kid pick up a protein bar before he’s starting towards the register where Jimin sits.

Eyes flying down to the screen that he stares at with a laser focus, Jimin sees the guy reach for the pocket of his jeans for his wallet absently. However, he looks up when the guy starts patting his back pocket with a sort of furious panic that can only mean one thing.

Jimin doesn’t say anything, though, as he lets the guy rummage around in his bookbag looking for his student I.D. From his periphery, he sees his replacement walking towards him.

Sparing a moment to marvel at how she never trips or runs into anything with her eyes glued to her phone, Jimin reaches out to get the guys attention.

“Misplaced your meal card?”

The guy looks up with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He stammers a little, voice gruff like he hasn’t used it in a few days. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I got all the way here just to realize I left it at home.” Shoulders falling with a dejected sigh, he takes a step back. “I’ll just go put everything back, sorry again--”

“Hey,” Jimin says softly, trying to gently stop the waterfall of words coming out in an embarrassed hush. “Don’t worry about it.”

Without letting himself think too much about it, Jimin swipes his own meal plan before looking up at cute guy with a soft grin. “You’re good to go. Enjoy your breakfast.”

The guy glances between the register and Jimin’s face, which isn’t red at all thank you very much. “You shouldn’t have done that; what if you get into trouble? I should have doublechecked to make sure I had my card before making you do this--”

Laughing a little at the guy's face, which is painted in equal shades of relief and guilt, Jimin just waves his concern away. “I promise no one cares that much and no offense, but you look like you could use a good deed. I’m fine, you’re fine, no one’s getting in trouble. Looks like a win-win-win to me, doesn’t it?”

Jimin doesn’t let the smile leave his face as the guy narrows his eyes at him for a minute, looking like he’s trying to see into Jimin’s soul to make sure he hasn’t inconvenienced him. Finally, he sighs and Jimin relaxes too at his acceptance.

“Okay then,” the guy offers with his own smile curving his mouth. “Thank you,” he says with an earnest sort of sincerity that makes Jimin want to reach out and pinch his cheek. “I really appreciate it. I’ve been up for 36 hours finishing a midterm and I think I walked here in a fugue state.”

Jimin nods in understanding. “Midterms are hell, second only to finals. I hope you ace your class and that your victory breakfast is a nice enough reward for surviving a couple of all-nighters.”

With a sheepish laugh, the guy resettles his bookbag on his shoulder and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sure it will. Thanks again.” Then he’s gone with an awkward wave.

Jimin doesn’t watch him leave, immediately startled by the curt clearing of a throat behind him. Spinning around in his chair, he barely manages to stop from rolling his eyes at his replacement looking annoyed as she types furiously on her phone.

“You were done two minutes ago. Get out of my chair and get to class, Park.”

Going ahead and rolling his eyes, Jimin doesn’t say anything as he logs out of his employee account and leaves the Dining Hall.

Most of the day goes by quickly. He has a couple of classes into the early afternoon followed by his dance elective. Hoseok, his favorite person in the group, is in a chatty mood when practice ends as he dramatically explains how a couple of his other friends need to get over themselves and just start to date already. Jimin laughs along as he hears about how much of an idiot these guys are being.

Apparently, the latest fiasco involves Yoongi making weekly playlists for a Joon and Joon recommending books to Yoongi, which they discuss every week at their favorite coffeeshop. Hoseok takes great pains to explain that he’d joined them the first time thinking nothing of their passing invitation only to see them cozied up together in an oversized chair in the corner, sipping their coffee and holding hands as they took turns arguing their stances on the book's subliminal messages.

“It’s maddening, Jiminie. Honestly, those two are so gone for each other and they don’t seem to realize that it’s not a bro thing to create a playlist titled Songs Almost as Comforting as One of Hyung’s Hugs and that friends don’t just discuss how romantic it would be if they had a partner who was as loving as the hero in whatever damn novel they’re were reading last month. The hinting is so obvious that it’s giving me headaches, I swear.”

“Ah Hoseokie-Hyung, maybe they’re enjoying this in between time, you know? I’m sure they’re both aware of where it’s heading but they want to enjoy the journey. Did you ever think about that?”

Hoseok snorts, leaning down to grab his water bottle before continuing. “No,” he says shortly. “Yoongi-hyung and Joon are just deeply oblivious of the other’s feelings and at this rate, they won’t have their first date until they’re old and gray.” Pausing to take a deep drink of water, Hoseok sighs. “I guess I’ll admit that neither of them seem miserable in their pining. They’ve been best friends since before I joined the-- ah, since before I started school here. It’s always been the two of them, you know?”

Humming a little in thought, Jimin wonders what it would be like to fall so naturally from friends to something more. He has Taehyung and they’re both very vocal on being platonic soulmates, but he can’t help but think that finding someone who has the warmth of a best friend and the devotion of a lover sounds like something else altogether.

With a little pang of his heart-- Jimin’s been tragically single since the end of his freshman year over a year ago-- he squashes down on the mild envy he has for people he’s never even met.

His thoughts break off as he realizes that he still hasn’t answered Hoseok and his friend is looking at him with the shrewd look he usually only reserves for reviewing dance videos.

Clearing his throat, Jimin just manages to offer, “It must be nice,” and thankfully Hoseok changes the subject with a deftness that doesn’t make Jimin feel put on the spot as they start talking about how difficult this new choreo is becoming.

Groaning, Jimin starts to stretch as Hoseok joins him on the floor. “I thought I was in shape but this song makes me feel like an old man. I’m going to start having to up my cardio so I can keep up.”

They commiserate for a few more minutes before Hoseok pulls himself to his feet and starts packing up, citing his evening class across campus. Waving him on, Jimin stretches a few more minutes while replying to the few dozen texts Tae had sent him during the day about new drama he had decided to start watching and was now nine episodes into.

He takes his time back to his apartment off campus and when he opens the front door, he’s immediately assaulted with the view of Taehyung in the living room, raptly watching his show while absently tossing goldfish crackers into his mouth. Watching him for a moment, Jimin doesn’t even bother to sigh as over half the fish miss his mouth entirely to land somewhere on-- or in-- their couch.

“Hey, Jimin-ah,” Taehyung greets him distractedly.

“Hey, Taetae. Show still good?” Jimin ruffles his best friend’s hair on his way to his bedroom.

Leaning into the touch, Tae hums in affirmative. “Have you gotten your crush’s number yet? Or even found out his name?”

Jimin huffs at the directness. He might’ve come home after his first shift of the semester only to regale Taehyung with the story of how a student at the dining hall had walked up to the end of the check-out line that morning-- radiating an intimidating aura, especially in his all black get-up-- before he’d watched the guy help the person behind him in line collect all their loose change that had fallen out of their purse and all over the floor.

It was like night and day between the guy’s abashed smile as he waved off the thanks as he picked up pennies and when he’d first walked in, expression neutral and looking like he’d flay anyone alive who dared to talk to him.

Sighing as he thinks about what had happened this latest morning, Jimin pouts. “No but I paid for his breakfast and he was all adorable and flustered about it so we’ll count today as a win.”

“You know,” Taehyung starts, eyes not leaving the television screen where it looks like someone is either about to get murdered or railed to within an inch of their life, “The way you describe him, he seems like a bit of a lone wolf type. Reserved but with a warm, gooey center. Maybe you just need to, like, befriend him. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to make the first move.”

“It’s not as easy as you think to make a move, Tae,” Jimin gripes. “I don’t even know if he’s interested in me.”

Sighing like the weight of the world’s on his shoulders, Taehyung finally looks up at Jimin. “That’s why I’m telling you to become his friend, dummy. You like him, he doesn’t sound completely off-put by you, it’s time to progress to the next level. Friendship. Maybe once you two know each other a little more, he’ll get more comfortable around you and then bam! You’re married with three dogs and a pink picket fence.”

“White picket fence, Taetae. Not pink.”

Taehyung just waves that away. “Pink is more homey. Anyway. We're two months into the semester and you still don't even know his name. Time to face your crush and actually do something about it before you end up living in the apartment over my garage and crashing into my main house every evening bemoaning how your life turned out like this.”

“You don’t have a garage. Or a house. You don’t even have a complete set of towels.”

“Then it will be all the more impressive when I move into McMansion and graciously allow you to live with me rent-free.”

Jimin snorts, feeling lighter with his best friend’s antics. At least his love life isn’t as dire as it could be, he guesses.

Still, he doesn’t want to give Taehyung the satisfaction of knowing he’s given him food for thought so Jimin just ruffles his friend’s hair again and hauls himself and his bookbag to his bedroom without another word.

Taehyung is immediately engrossed back into his show, muttering something about the betrayal of the sister-in-law.

Closing the door behind him, Jimin empties his bookbag. He finishes the readings for a couple of classes tomorrow and resolutely does not think about how he could woo-- befriend-- the extremely cute student he only sees three minutes a week.

There’s only a couple of hours of daylight left when Jimin surfaces, stretching his arms over his head and straightening from his desk, highlighter still in hand.

Tossing the highlighter onto his desk and shutting his anatomy textbook firmly closed, he stands and grumbles to himself for a few minutes before he figures that he should probably go for a run before it gets dark.

He really wasn’t exaggerating earlier with Hoseok. He’s only halfway through his first semester of junior year and it seems like everything’s been kicked up a notch, including his dance group. Hoseok is the new leader since it’s his senior year with Jimin as a sort of second-in-command and as the two of them had planned out the upcoming year over the summer, they’d agreed that they wanted to try something new and challenge themselves.

They’ve certainly succeeded, Jimin thinks wryly as he walks to the front door and laces up his running shoes. The two of them were having a blast experimenting with different styles and genres and putting together choreography with it all. Thankfully, the other dozen people in the group seemed to be enjoying the new creative lead from Hoseok’s predecessor and while it’s challenging, it’s also fun and stress-relieving in a way Jimin craves.

That doesn’t mean the newest song they’re putting together isn’t a lot to handle, though. Jimin can barely make it to the second verse of the song before he feels winded and Hoseok is noticeably pushing himself by the bridge.

Warming up with a light jog as he gets out of the congested student apartments and starts towards the park trail on the edge of campus, Jimin plans the rest of his evening. He still has a paper to write for tomorrow’s gen literature class and he has a case study for his political science class due in the morning along with a discussion post.

Could be worse, Jimin thinks with a huff as he kicks it up a notch to a steady pace along the trail blacktop. While running isn’t Jimin’s favorite way to pass the time, he knows that he needs to do something to increase his endurance and it’s almost relaxing-- enjoying the fresh autumn air all alone with his thoughts.

One of his favorite things about this university is that it’s bordered by a nature reservation on one side. Although he doesn’t take advantage of it as often as he’d like, it’s nice to get away from a bustling campus and busy college town. There are only a few other runners out this late and he’s in a good mood as he lets whatever stress had built up over the day flow out of him.

Jimin decides to veer off onto a gravel path when the trail splits. It’s a little overgrown but as he climbs up an incline, settling into each stride and definitely feeling the strain in his thighs, he decides this might just be his favorite stretch so far.

It’s like there’s no one else but him and nature and while Jimin knows he’s a city boy through and through, there’s a calmness in being so isolated that puts him at ease.

He’s almost to the top of the hill and his breath is definitely labored as he watches the ground right in front of him, steering clear of any roots or particularly jagged rocks when something falls into his periphery.

Flicking his eyes up, Jimin comes crashing to a stop, almost falling on his face as he slips over a rough patch of gravel.

Suddenly, his breathing sounds cacophonous in the quiet of the woods, under the piercing stare of a pitch black wolf.

Jimin stares at the creature. The creature stares back calmly although it’s preternaturally still.

He’d always thought wolves were just a little bit bigger than dogs and now he feels like an idiot because the wolf standing alert a dozen yards from him is definitely bigger than a dog.

Jimin swallows harshly and thinks that it would almost come up to his chest if they were side by side.

So very slowly, Jimin tugs his headphones out and lets them fall around his neck. He doesn’t take the attention away from the wolf to turn his music off and it’s another tinny noise that buzzes around him like a pile of bees.

They’re still staring at each other.

Jimin doesn’t know what to do in this situation. He doesn’t want to run away because what if the wolf attacks? There’s no question the wolf is terrifying, large and intimidating and so clearly a predator, completely at ease in the woods. At the same time, he feels like a dolt just standing here and waiting to be eaten.

There’s a dignified elegance to the wolf as he watches Jimin with gold eyes that seem to soak up the starting sunset. If Jimin didn’t know better, he’d almost think the wolf had been caught off guard at first before he’d stilled at seeing Jimin on the trail.

Calling himself a dumbass even as he opens his mouth, Jimin tries to put on his best soothing voice. “I’m not here to hurt you and I hope you’re not going to hurt me.”

The wolf doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound, so Jimin continues, “I’m just out for a run and I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t eat me. My roommate, Taehyungie, would be very displeased if there was no one to brainstorm his podcast episodes with.”

The wolf huffs out a breath, tilts his head to regard Jimin with a faint hint of-- is that amusement? Deciding that the terror trickling down his spine and through his toes is probably driving him insane, Jimin holds up his arms in an appeasing gesture as he takes a single step back.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says in a voice higher than his usual register. “I’m just going to leave you to do whatever wolf activities you were up to before I interrupted-- catching butterflies? Rolling around in the grass?-- and we’ll forget this ever happened. I’m so sorry I disturbed you and I’ll just be on my way.”

Jimin waits for a long beat or two to make sure the wolf won’t suddenly lunge for him but to his surprise, the black wolf doesn’t move a muscle besides the slow sway of its tail.

In the heart pounding moments between Jimin’s little speech and him turning around to back down the hill, he studies the wolf with an intensity that surprises him. He catalogs the gold eyes that seem to know more than they should and the thick obsidian fur that he has an inexplicable urge to bury his hands in to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

For a moment, Jimin is too mesmerized to be scared and it’s only when the wolf abruptly turns his head to the left, towards the deepest part of the woods, that Jimin startles and realizes that he needs to go and he needs to go now.

He doesn’t know why but he dips a little in a bow before muttering, “Thanks for not making me puppy chow,” and then he turns around and carefully leaves, heart thundering with the fear the the wolf could decide to attack at any moment, lunging for him without him knowing.

He can’t quite believe it but Jimin makes it back to the main path without incident. He bends over at the waist, lightheaded, and feels like he could almost collapse in relief at not having been torn to shreds.

Jimin picks up the pace as soon as it feels like he’s not going to keel over. All of a sudden the nature reservation that had felt relaxing in its isolation digs creepy tendrils of apprehension into him.

When he finally crosses over from the park into campus, he breathes a huge sigh of relief. He tells himself that he’ll just go to the rec from now on and climb on a treadmill if he wants to work on his cardio.

He tells himself that he won’t go back to the park or follow unbeaten paths again, not when the October breeze sends such a shiver down his spine.

He feels something watching him from the moment he turns his back from the wolf all the way to the edge of campus and tells himself he’s overreacting even as he can’t stop himself from searching the edge of the trail for gold eyes or a trailing shadow.

He doesn’t see anything amiss and he definitely doesn’t feel disappointed as he makes it back to his apartment without catching sight of the wolf again.

Stumbling through the door, Jimin toes off his shoes and heads directly to the bathroom, not even noticing Taehyung in the living room working on a painting by the last light of the day.

Jimin sums up his evening with an effusive thank God I wasn’t mauled to death and resolves to forget anything ever happened.

[searchingforbucky]

FIC RECS (Part 5) :)

Okay we are going to try this again lol. I hope I got everyone I was intending to!This one is LONG so buckle up babes. 

The request was for Cop!Bucky fics, by anonymous. Now I am SO excited to share this list because Cop Bucky is my top 2 favorite AU’s and actually the first AU I ever read for Bucky. So its incredibly close to my heart, and so are these fics. I hope everyone enjoys! :) (I start with Series, then go to One-Shots) 💖💕💗💓

In the Arms of Justice by @avengerofyourheart

Okay, this was actually the first full Cop!Bucky fic I ever read and let me tell you, it was an amazing bridge into what is now an unhealthy obsession lol. This fic is so well done. I love the way Anika plays with details in her stories. Every word has you hanging on, no stone is left unturned, no detail forgotten. This one, especially if you go back and read it a second time, you see all of the tiny foreshadowing she does. Its such a good mysterious fic. Its absolutely amazing the Protective/Soft Bucky on top of that is the best ever. Please read it twice to be able to fully realize the beauty.

Heart & Soul by @all1e23

This one is an ABO fic, and oh man is it good. This fic is just so heartbreakingly beautiful. Allie is dedicated, in all of their stories, to being as truthful to true human experiences and this is just another example. The emotion is so real and painful and I can somehow picture to all of these experiences even though I’ve never had them myself, solely because of the way they write. This is a story about trauma, trust, loyalty, and personal strength. Theres murder mystery and fluff all in  a lovely package.  The relationships between her and every one of the characters is so well drawn out, its just such a heartwarming fic.

The Witness by @wkemeup

Words tend to evade me when I try to explain my love for this fic, but I need I need to make sure its recognized. Bucky is soft and just wants the reader to be safe, the reader is self sufficient and headstrong. My favorite pairing. This story is honestly something that changed the way I read Bucky fics. It was the first story of hers I have ever read, and never have I gotten more lost in a story than this. Before this, I would mainly focus on dialogue of a story, and other important bits. This was so beautifully done, and packed with detail and emotion in the smallest sentences I made sure I didn’t miss a single thing. Also, the way she writes the aftermath in her Drabble/epilogue are so truthful to life and recovery. Ugh, just an amazing read.

Deception by @revengingbarnes 

This story is unlike the others I’ve read before. I LOVE undercover fics, don’t get me wrong, but a lot of the time they are set in this perfect world with no repercussions. This fic is so damn raw and honest and real. It shows the pain and aftermath that is unavoidable from situations like these, the emotion from Bucky and the Reader seeps through every word making it impossible not to get invested into them and their love. Not everything in life is perfect, there isn’t always that one happy ending, and this fic shows that. There is bumps and bruises and you won’t know whats coming until it happens but thats what makes it beautiful. 

Seven Thirty by @nacho-bucky 

So this one is absolutely the cutest thing ever. Its technically a cop!bucky but its not like the main factor in the story, but Im including it anyways because its too amazing to not! This has UNCLE BUCKY, oh my god thats my favorite soft Bucky trope and its done again here so well. Bucky is needs help with a kid, she works with kids, what could go wrong??? Nothing! Because this is a story of two awkwardly adorable individuals being roped into the cutest relationship ever by a sneaky little girl. This story is Witten so well, every detail paints the best picture of utter domesticity and love and I cannot get over it. Especially the little drabbles accompanying it? Be still my heart. 

Ride With Me by @jurassicbarnes 

Now this one is a treat, we’ve got Cop!Bucky and Biker!Reader (whaaaat?? Biker reader??) Yes! So unique right? And its so well done too. This is about the cutest thing because you have no gender stereotypes whoop whoop! You have soft shy Bucky (who tries so hard to hide it, oh my love), and a badass reader! Its so unique and absolutely adorable. I feel like this needs to be made into a romance movie, I would watch the hell out of it. Its like perfect YA romance I'm telling you! Opposites attract and lead to a work of art in disguise as a Bucky Fanfic. Also, I want Natasha to be my Best Friend :( 

Sweet as Cinnamon by @propertyofpoeandbucky 

It wouldn’t be a proper Cop!Bucky list without some Chubby Bucky! In there! Now, wanna know who’s sweet as cinnamon? Bucky Barnes in this fic (more like a compilation of one-shots). We have a single dad, divorced, insecure, chubby Bucky, and we all know what that leads to? Me in an absolute puddle of love and fluff. The relationship he has with the reader and his daughter are the most pure things I’ve ever been lucky enough to read. I love sneaky kids man, and oh does he have one! All of Leilanis fics are so good, but something about this Universe really just sticks in my heart. Amazingly well written, 10/10 would read every single one again. 

Good Cop, Bad Cop by @cametobuyplums 

Okay, another thing that makes this list complete? A smutty fic (again more of a compilation of one shots). This fic is damn good. Its kinda like SAC in the way of Bucky is a single, insecure, divorced, chubby father. But plot twist! Reader is a young sexy police chief that just wants her man, Bucky. Let the fun ensue! No seriously though, besides the smut, this series is incredibly well done. You wouldn’t expect many heartfelt moments in a fic like tis, but thats the beauty of it. I love reading stories where Bucky just gets loved up and fights his insecurities. If you like reading smut, I guarantee you will love this fic!

Sunshine by @thottybarnes 

Let me squeal about this one real quick. I just recently read it and I LOVED it. Honestly any story that has beefy Bucky is always gonna be a good one for me, but beefy Bucky AND soft, baby fever having Bucky? Oh my heart cant take it. This fic is absolutely adorable. I love how fun and light hearted it is, and the details they put in the background are to die for. Such a good fic if you want fluff, and Cop!Bucky all in one fantastic package. The way she rights the reader also just makes me feel like a good person and who doesn’t love that? All in all, the story is amazing, and now I want a baby with beefy Bucky :(

Anyone Except You by @maid-of-mourne-shore  

Okay so this one is definitely different than the ones I’ve listed so far. This one is a little intense. Definitely needs a trigger warning especially with the current US gun situation. Anyways, if you can handle it, please read it. Its a beautifully raw story that portrays that trauma for an outsider so well. I was on the edge of my seat, heart hurting. Bucky Is so soft, the mutual pining is there, the protective Bucky is there, the flangst is there. Its really, really good.

Uniformed by @bucky-plums-barnes

Oh my dear Gen, another wonderful fic from her. This story is absolutely so unique in the way its set up. The sections being introduced like a hospital case had me hooked from word one. I love a hard to get fic, especially when it involves a cocky Bucky and a take no nonsense reader! This fic has its fun times, but it also gets some angsty moments of just raw emotion and understanding between two people in difficult career paths, its truly beautiful. Also, UNCLE BUCKY makes an appearance :)

And finally, last but not least 

Reassurance by @ofheroesandvillains

Obviously I’m a sucker for insecure chubby Bucky. He gets a little green here not gonna lie, makes him about 50x cuter. We get it Bucky, she’s your wife (so you say) and not his. This fic issuer cute, I love me a reassuring reader, because I know I would say the same in that situation. You feel the love between the characters, its not an overwhelming display of love, but its truthful to life and real feelings, and I love it so. 

If you read to the end of this long list, bless your heart and I love you so much. I’m not a writer, so my grammar is probably bad, and I basically just write in a stream of consciousness lol, so sorry for that! I hope you love the fics on here as much as I do! Till next time my loves.