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chunksworld · 1 year ago

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A Helping Hand

ITZY Yuna x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: Damn I've been so down bad for her lately. Thanks @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading.

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Clank. Clank. Clank.

Missed shots after missed shots—some of them aren’t even hitting the rim, that’s how bad it’s gotten. It’s safe to say that basketball practice isn’t going particularly well for you. You’ve had to resort to either passing the ball in the perimeter or going for a layup instead, which makes you easier to defend against. And it’s not like you were making your shots in shootaround either, the rim could probably be as wide as the ocean and you would still somehow miss it. It’s as if you forgot the fundamentals of the sport you grew to love and dedicate your life towards.

Nothing frustrates you more than when your shots aren’t falling. You’re a basketball player after all—well to be more exact, you are the school’s star basketball player and the team captain. Your teammates look up at you for inspiration and to lead them to victory every single game. Sure it’s just practice, but you didn’t get this far by slacking off and you want to lead by example. No one criticizes you more than your own self and perhaps it’s that double-edged sword that has led you to become so hard on yourself. It’s a trait that has led you to success but at times like this, you are your own worst enemy.

You make brief eye contact with your coach and the look of disappointment he gives you is so gut wrenching, his hands on his hips and his eyebrows furrowed. You can already hear the rant he’s about to give once scrimmage is over, he’s not exactly a player’s coach and just because you’re the star player does not mean that he’s going to be nicer to you—in fact, it’s the opposite. You’ve gotten yelled at in front of your teammates so many times that you’ve become numb to it. He wants the best from you as much as you want the best from yourself but his yelling is what you didn’t wanna hear at this very moment. All you want to do is get some rest and perhaps sleep it off.

“Cut! Cut!”

Coach yells and you’re scrambling to remember how to defend the play. He introduced it earlier during this practice but it obviously never stuck with you. You’re so distracted trying to remember m that you didn’t even realize that you’ve blown your defensive assignment as your opponent drives past you to receive the pass for an easy layup, following the coach’s instructions perfectly and you’ve absolutely lost it. It’s one thing to not make shots but it’s even worse that you can’t even defend properly. You might as well be a drill come out there. Enough is enough.

“Fuck!”

The expletive rings throughout the gym, much louder than you’ve anticipated and your coach blows the whistle. Your teammates can only look at you in pity, they know how frustrating it is to be in your situation plus the wrath you’re about to receive is not going to be pretty. You stop in your tracks and pant heavily, sweat dripping down your face as the intensity of the scrimmage takes over you. Silence, except for your teammates also trying to catch their breath. Your coach then takes a slow walk towards you with his clipboard in hand and you are already bracing your eardrums for the berating but then signals all of the players to leave for the day and walks up to you with his clipboard in hand. Huh, guess he’s sparing you the embarrassment for today. He probably already knows that you’ve embarrassed yourself enough already.

“Listen, I don’t know if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning but I’m not having this okay? We’ve got a game later today and I need you to be completely focused and locked in. You’re not leaving this gym until you’ve made 100 threes in a row, got it?”

Somehow, that’s a better punishment than being yelled at in front of your teammates. You look pathetic as it is for their team captain and that would’ve made it worse. Maybe it was the prospect of getting yelled at but suddenly your shots were falling again, and it’s a great thing that it was a morning practice because it still took you five hours to make that many threes in a row. You were pretty sure that more threes than you’ve ever made in your entire career but it was all worth it. You were completely drained and exhausted and all you wanted to do was pass out. You found yourself laying on the hardwood floor and looking up on the banners, some of them you’ve helped raise in the rafters. It would be nice to ad—

“Tough practice, huh? Coach Lee looked like he was gonna knock your head off.” A familiar voice echoes throughout the empty gym. It’s the sound of a woman nonetheless and you’re damn sure that you must be hallucinating with how completely tired you are but that was immediately debunked the moment a basketball landed on your face. You look up and that signature bunny smile is enough to send your heart running throughout this facility. What the hell is she doing here? She’s never been here, hell does she even know what basketball is?

Shin Yuna. The school’s most popular student and the president of the student council—rumors has it that she’s turned down a record 200 male students during her time here so far (you can confirm at least 19 of those male students because everyone of your teammates have asked her out already). And it’s as clear as the bright blue skies as to why she’s highly sought after; insanely smart, stunning visuals, and an amazing body to go along with it (you definitely have not been taking notice of the last part, absolutely not). Plus, you see her face everywhere. There’s 100 clubs to join in this campus and she’s the leader for a handful of them. “Fuck me, did he broadcast to the entire school how shitty I was today?”

You lay back down on the hardwood floor, probably not good advice because your jersey is now completely dirty. But that’s the least of your concerns at this very moment. Yuna continues walking towards you, the heel of her boots making a resounding noise with each and every step. “No he didn’t, but I was running some errands and I wanted to stop by to check how our basketball team is doing and….” She sits down beside you, clearly she doesn’t care that her clothes are going to be dirty either.

“And you saw me being absolutely shit at the sport I’m supposed to be good at. Great.” What horrible timing, the student council president rarely visits and she just had to choose the worst day possible. You just want to bury a hole and dig yourself.

And Yuna is either terrible at reading people’s emotions or she doesn’t care at all because her response was a smile as she sits closer to you, as if she’s shrugging off everything you just said. Can this day get any worse? “Well, everyone has bad days don’t they? I’m sure that LeBron Jordan guy had some bad shooting days as well.” Never mind, guess she has great intentions after all.

“Touché. But we have a game later so I need to figure the fuck out how to play again so will you be of any help, miss student council president?” You must have said something right because her face lights up like a light bulb. And you can only hope that whatever she does have in mind is actually going to be helpful.

“Well that can’t be good….” Her fingers trace your biceps, “As the president of the student council it’s my duty to ensure that our school’s star athlete can de-stress before the game right?” You’re only half focusing on her words at this very moment, her scalding touch the only thing occupying your mind as she continues to caress your arms.

Like a true basketball star, you’re figuring out her next play though like a simple pick and roll, it’s easy to decipher. You decide to let it play out anyways. “What are you trying to say?”

“How about……” Her fingers now reach for your face, her own visage now dangerously close to yours, “…I lend you a helping hand, how does that sound?”

As expected, it was the perfect read all along. The moment her lips mesh with yours and you could already feel all of this morning’s stress start to dissipate. You didn’t even hesitate to think about the potential repercussions, of the fact that two of the most influential figures on campus are about to engage in acts not appropriate for such a setting. Not when you feel how perfect her soft lips are on yours, clouding your judgment and throwing any sense of rationality out of the window. Your teammates would surely kill you if they found out that out of everyone on the team, it was you that’s getting such an opportunity with Yuna.

They’d surely be jealous because you’re the one viewing her beautiful features up close, not them. You’re the one caressing her curves and every other part of her heavenly body that have made her the wet dreams of every male student on campus. That you’re the one eliciting such lustful and throaty moans out of her as your lips trail down to her neck, your hands reaching out to her clothed busts to give them a gentle squeeze. It sounds so hot, Yuna sounds so fucking hot. And it’s a good thing that you’re wearing your basketball shorts and not your regular pants because you would definitely be in much more pain now with how hard you are.

“Fuck, a little stress relief is what I need as well….”

But it gets even worse the moment she straddles your lap, landing perfectly on the tent forming on your shorts and you inadvertently groan at the immense pleasure. She reverts back to kissing you before you could even muster up a verbal response, a more aggressive lip lock this time with tongues involved as she slowly starts to grind on you. You could feel how wet she is under that skirt and your mind is already racing with the plenty of ways you want to take advantage of this opportunity. As much as you don’t want to stop kissing her, you don’t want it to stop at just this so you grab at the hem of your jersey but before you could remove it, she breaks away from the kiss. It’s only first base and yet she’s already ruined and so fucking pretty as always. “Is there a more private place?”

Of course there is. You grabbed her by the hand and dragged her towards the empty locker room. As soon as the door is shut, you grab her by the waist and bring her to your lap again as you sit on the bench and resume your kissing. Busy hands immediately go to work trying to remove each other’s clothing. She gets rid of your jersey with ease while you have to work with removing her tie and lifting the blue top over her head; her bra coming off right after. Your mouth salivates at the sight of her perfectly shaped tits, round, petite, and nipples begging to be sucked. But as you were mere inches away, she got off of you to remove her skirt and panties (which were drenched as you predicted. You do the same with your shorts and boxers, throwing them to the side. Both of your shoes come flying off as well.

You’re both finally fully naked. Your cock twitching as precum oozes from the tip due to intense arousal, there in front of you lies a naked Yuna. Whereas other guys have to imagine what she looks like, you could actually view her in this state. A gorgeous face paired with a body sculpted by the gods themselves, curves that can only be compared to that of an hourglass, her clean shaven pussy, her inner thighs already drenched, and those legs that you just want wrapped around you. But with how she’s biting and licking her lips, you’re not the only one completely turned on. “You can take a picture of me to jack off to later, but I want you to fuck me now please.”

And who are you to turn down such a request? She mounts you once again, this time making sure to aim her opening at your tip. You both moan at the first contact, electricity surging through your bodies but you fight through it. You bring her lips to yours, arms wrapped around her body as you aid her in completely taking you inside her. “A-Ahhh fucc-k!” Her nails immediately dig into your shoulder and back as she pulls away from the kiss. Yuna is tight, so amazingly and mind-blowingly tight despite how wet she is. And it doesn’t seem like she’s a virgin either because she seems like she knows what she’s doing. You, on the other hand, haven’t had sex in ages and yet your carnal desire for her is what’s driving you. “So fucking b-big!”

“And you’re so tight….shit.”

Eventually, she's able to take your length all the way inside her. But with how tight she is, you will definitely rearrange her guts by the time you two are finished. That’s the least of your concerns right now, however. as she begins to roll her hips. The pleasure is overwhelming and the effects of not having any intercourse in quite a while is starting to rear its ugly head as every single movement of her hips is driving you crazy. You pull her even closer to you, causing her to squeal as no inch of space is left between the two of you. Once you are able to overcome the initial onslaught of pleasure, you begin to thrust up inside her as well. And this causes Yuna to wrap her long, luscious legs around you as her nails leave scratch marks on your back and shoulders. “F-Fuck me hard just like that, please!” Her moans are a beautiful symphony of curses, inaudible phrases, and your name uttered in the sexiest way possible. You would gladly listen to it until the day you die. Maybe you could have her relieve your stress all the time if this is what you get at the end.

And you would kiss her to prevent anyone from hearing her moans but the place is empty so it’d be useless so instead you do what you’ve been dying to do ever since earlier, and that’s to taste her breasts. It doesn’t help that they jiggle deliciously in front of you as every thrust of your hips meet her bounces. You dive down and capture them with your lips, focusing on her left breast first and licking the stiff, brown nipple with your tongue. Her whimpers only serve as encouragement, switching to the right nipple and giving it the same treatment that it deserves. Your fingers, on the other hand, are carefully massaging her saliva-drenched left breast. You repeat this over and over, making sure they get enough appreciation from you. She stops grinding her hips at some point because of the immense pleasure and you paused your thrusting as well, and if she didn’t grab you by the chin for a kiss you wouldn’t have noticed as well.

A deep, passionate makeout then ensues as she starts to grind her hips again, her hands pushing your face further towards hers into a sloppy serenade of pure unadulterated need towards each other. A string of saliva follows as you both pull away from oxygen, the lust in her eyes only strengthening with time. “Don’t lie, you’ve been dreaming of sucking my tits don’t you?” The remark catches you off guard and makes you laugh. The answer is obvious, if she wants to hear it then you’ll gladly tell her.

“Fucking hell Yuna, I don’t think there’s any guy out there that doesn’t.” Hell, you want to suck them again at this very moment but you don’t want to be selfish. She also has her needs after all.

The grinding of her hips turns into bouncing again, and the slapping of skin on skin begins to reverberate in the empty locker room. “Exactly. S-So take advantage of this opportunity—shit—and give me your all.” You don’t want to be told twice; you bury your face on her chest as you thrust up at a frantic pace. Her moans only get louder as you piston your cock inside her pussy—that’s still so amazingly tight—relentlessly, making sure that they’ll mold to your shape. Soon, those moans turn into whimpers as she rests her chin on your shoulders and her hot breath going directly through your ears as she continuously whispers sweet nothings—completely delirious from how good of a fucking she’s receiving from you. It’s so pure, it’s so carnal, and it’s so fucking hot the way your moans combine with the slapping of wet skin and the squelches of her pussy as you continue to pound up into her.

But you two are humans after all and can only receive and give so much pleasure, and it doesn’t really take long for Yuna to completely unravel—only three more minutes to be exact. You could already feel it with how much tighter she’s gotten, so tight that you might just reach your orgasm the same time as her. It takes you gritting your teeth and closing your eyes because looking at her pleasure-stricken face with her tongue sticking out and eyes rolled to the back of her head along with her unreal visuals is going to completely cause you to become undone. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna come please. Make me come, fuck me just like that I’m so fucking close….” But you’d rather attack her neck with kisses and bites anyways, the combined smell of her sweat and lavender perfume only driving you crazier and crazier. Like a mantra, she repeats her wish along with incoherent whispers but it’s at a particularly rough thrust as she comes down hard in your lap that sets off the explosions.

“FFUCKK!”

It’s so fucking hot. The way her nails cling to your back, now probably leaving scratches that will surely take weeks to disappear. The way her luscious thighs constrict your waist. The way she grabs onto your face and pulls you towards her for a kiss. It’s all too overwhelming and it takes every single fiber of your being not to join her as her hot and tight walls attempt to squeeze you for all the cum you have, and you just might. Her juices immediately flood both of your crotches as her orgasm completely overrides her, taking a few minutes to subside as you continue to thrust your hips up to her at a slower and gentle pace. She doesn’t stop grinding her hips either, her moans now turning into whimpers while she continues to make-out with you, and with everything that’s already happened you know you’re not too far away from joining her. Yuna pulls away from the kiss and she whispers the words you’ve been dying to hear, her eyes filled with cock-filled lust in the aftermath of her post-orgasm haze. “Fucking cum in me.”

You’re embarrassed the way it immediately turns you on, as if a switch is flipped inside your brain that wants one thing and one thing only: Yuna. So with the remaining strength you have, you place your hands underneath her thighs and made sure that she’s wrapped tightly around you before standing up to effectively fuck her in stand and carry. The new position has her screaming and yelling as gravity aids in impaling her into your shaft, your cock now reaching places inside her that you couldn’t do so earlier. You bounce her on your length before walking over to your locker and pressing her back onto the cold surface, making her shiver. With support, you continue to thrust into her at an unrelenting pace and due to the sensitivity from her orgasm, it doesn’t take too long for her to come undone once again. You must’ve discovered a specific bundle of nerves inside her because she bites into your shoulder with a scream and begging you to fuck her hard once again, every thrust has her wrapping her arms around tour neck tighter and the feeling of such a perfect body like hers against yours is truly mindblowing.

She’s completely rag-dolled into your arms at this point and it only took a few more thrusts before she lost herself. The sight is perfect and unsullied, not even the most expensive paintings in the world could rival her face at this very moment. It’s all beautiful and lewd at the same time. It’s an orgasm that’s somehow even stronger than her first one. “S-So fucking good!” Yuna’s juices immediately start to flood your length and drip down to the floor below; the added lubrication now making it easier to thrust in and out of her and she must’ve noticed how much your cock has been twitching ever since her orgasm because she doesn’t stop bouncing on your cock despite her sensitivity, in fact she’s working twice as hard. No words exchanged for a while as she’s still trying to recover from the intensity of her orgasm while you’ve been rendered speechless by how intense your orgasm is going to be as well. Instead she kisses you as a way of showing thanks, nibbling and pulling on your lower lip as you let her do all the work. It doesn’t take long for you to feel that bubbling sensation in your stomach and you have to inform her sooner or later so you pull away from the kiss but it seems like she already knows.

“Y-Yuna, where—“

She gives you a nod, then a peck on the lips. Her eyes are once again filled with lust and that’s the only green light you need. “It’s been a while since I’ve been fucked like that so it’s only right for me to return the favor. I want your cum inside me please.” Such words have never been more enticing and seducing. With a loud groan, the first shot of cum is emptied into Yuna’s freshly fucked pussy. And then some more; each thrust of your hips delivers a shot of cum fucked deep into her needy womb. Each thrust makes all of the stress and anguish of today go away. You can’t count how many shots you’ve unloaded but it’s enough to stain your balls and flood the gaps between where your cock and her pussy meet—all of it dripping down onto the floor below. Another makeout session ensues, your tongues lazily dancing with one another as you continue to thrust your cock inside her to make sure no drop of cum is wasted. But it really doesn’t matter because a copious amount of semen drips out of her pussy the moment you pull out, and you’re completely shocked by how much you filled her. It’s truly a testament to how good she fucked you.

“Shit. Yuna, I–”

Yuna interrupts you with a kiss. “It’s fine, I wanted your cum and I got it. And it looks like you were really stressed.” She points towards the pool of cum on the floor, weeks worth deposited inside her and you can’t help but be embarrassed. “Either that or I really turned you on.” Heat rises up to your cheeks and you want to dig up a hole and bury yourself in it once again. There’s no denying that she didn’t; she’s definitely the best woman you’ve ever had sex with and it doesn’t even come close. And the sight of her post-sex is only making you want to fuck her again—her inner thighs glazed with your cum, her perfect body covered with sweat, and her face looking thoroughly fucked. Your cock twitches at the sight and she smirks, walking over to you and slowly wrapping her fingers around your length and pumping it at a leisurely pace.

“Hmm. Looks like you’re still hard for me, how about I fix that?” It truly must be your lucky day today because she dragged you to the showers and quickly got on her knees, taking your length inside her mouth and effectively cleaned both of your juices off of it with her skillful tongue. Despite already one orgasm down the drain, the opportunity to paint her face with your cum is the only thing you need to get going again. Yuna continues to bob her head up and down your cock, her hands massaging your balls as if to make sure to receive your full load again. Your groans and the lewd sound of her mouth overpowers the sound of the intense water pressure of the shower. And with how turned on you’ve been, it doesn’t take too long before you unload spurts after spurts of cum on her face. She looks so damn beautiful, yet so ruined at the same time. “We taste so good together, we should do this more often…”

Thankfully the rest of the shower time was actually used to clean up and ten minutes later, you two are dressed up again as if nothing happened. “Good luck out there, champ. I’ll be cheering for you.” Yuna gives you one final kiss, giving you an extra boost as if you weren’t motivated enough already. Then she flashes her signature wide smile that has caused hundreds of men to fall in love with her, and you’re about to be added on to that list. Fucking hell.

“Here’s my number by the way. Feel free to stop by my dorm once you guys win, your student council president will have a special prize for you.”

#itzy smut #yuna smut #shin yuna smut #male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut

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boredw69 · 9 months ago

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Only In His Office- Ch.4 Negan X Readert

Y/n is 19 year old Senior in high school who is particularly quiet but that's only because she always takes the time to write in her notebook filled with.. thoughts about someone imparticular, but its not who you expect it to be…

◇There is a age gap in this book so if you are not ok with that or if it makes you uncomfortable then you do not have to read, it's your choice.◇

Warnings: Age gap, Sexual themes, Cursing, (Bad writing :O, didnt proof read. Oop

Word Count: 1358

The next few days went on as normal, and it was Friday before I knew it. It was already mid day and I was in the gym sitting on the bleachers for the free period.

Try outs were after school today; and for once I had an ounce of positivity about it. Maybe getting out and playing a sport actively with help with my odd addiction to writing.

The squeak of a shoe echoed across the gym floor. I looked up to see Negan approaching me.. Of course; I was naive to think he would be too busy planning tryouts to notice me in the corner of the bleachers. I folded up my notes and shifted to sit up a bit.

"Well; So obsessed you had to come visit me on your free period?" He smiled.

I choked out a small laugh.

"Excited for tryouts?" He asked sitting down next to me.

"I suppose.."

He tilted his head trying to get a better look at my face. "She speaks." he let out a chuckle

"Psh.. Yea.." I mumbled.

I looked out over the gym, things had already been laid out for try outs. Small areas taped off on the floor, cones placed in different patterns, and oddly enough the hoops were lowered. Negan followed my eyes to the basketball hoops and cleared his throat.

"Makin' it easy for ya" smirking he looked back to me.

"Your joking right?" I stood from my seat and walked around the gym to the closest hoop. I looked up and laughed. This was too easy; So easy that someone who had never played could dunk it.

Negan stood now walking over to me and stretching his arm up to touch the rim. "Maybe your right" sarcasm was laced through his words. "Think we should give it a test run?" he looked down on me.

I bit down on my lip thinking for a minute. I was at a small disadvantage.. But practice is practice. "sure".

Negan held back a smile as he nodded. Heading over to the ball rack he palmed a ball passing it between his two hands before chest passing it to me roughly.

I caught it with a huff. "ouch." I spat.

I began to dribble the ball practicing passing the ball on and off both hands.

Negan didn't seem to waste any time fucking around coming around to smack the ball out of my hands before I ran with it across the court. I slowed down at the hoop going in for a lay up.

The ball circled the rim before falling off into the net. I rebounded the ball and dribbled once before realizing he was already on top of me. Nowhere to go I simply held and defended the ball. I turned against him.

"shit." I whispered.

"Yea." He leaned down against me whispering against my neck.

Still not pressed fully against him i panicked. What if someone saw us this close? This is dangerous; But being this close is nice. His chest was so close to my back, and I could feel one of his legs pressed onto me.

Lost in my train of thought he grabbed the ball and held it over his head and shot it from across the court; it circled the rim and fell off the side.

"Worth a shot." He said cockily.

I stood up normally, turning to face him, still weirdly close. He looked down smiling.

My face got hot, and my body too. I was doing it again.

"I should get back to studying"

He huffed; "Studying? You mean writing away in that little notebook of yours?" He questioned.

My breath caught in my throat. "What- No. I have school work to do." I fumbled on my words.

He burst out laughing, "Yea, yea of course."

My expression flattened, unmoving, bored with the joke. I turned back and started to head towards my things.

"What'do ya say we go talk about try outs in my office?" He didn't follow me he just stood with a lean in the middle of the court.

I slowed in my pace trying to make out what he had just said.

He began after the ball that was slowly wandering the court floor. Picking it up and dribbling it slowly back to the rack. As I picked up my things I turned back to face him.

"Hell' Bring that book of yours.. Maybe we could brainstorm a new page for ya." He teased.

My heart skipped a beat and I began to feel.. Aroused? again.. I nodded unsure of where this was going.. But where ever it ends up I'm sure it will be worth taking chances.

I nodded simply, and with a smirk from him we walked back to his office.

He sat down in his chair and patted the desk; "Lay 'er out and we can get to brainstorming" He continued on.

I sat down in a chair just in front of his desk now digging in my backpack for the notebook.

Not entirely sure why I was just simply doing what he asked I placed the book in front of me and he flipped it to a random page.

"Why don't you read it allowed.?" He leaned back in his chair.

My eyes trailed down looking at the book; Then slightly up now seeing the tint in his gray pants.

No way this was happening.

"I- Erm. I can't." I cleared my throat.

Negan shifted in his seat looking me over head to toe; "How come?"

"Its.. embarrassing."

He scoffed, "Hell yea it is." Leaning forward in his chair he looked at me eye level; "But from what I read." He paused, "You're into that."

My heart was racing. What do I even say..

My skin pricked uncomfortably from how hot I was getting. I crossed my legs trying to settle the excited feeling. I looked up as he pushed the book closer.

"His hand gripped around my throat stifling my breathing as his hips..-" I gulped, "Rutted into my ass.." stopping I looked up to him. He was watching me with hungry eyes.

He nodded signaling me to continue.

"The water from the shower ran over us both our skin beginning to redden from the water pressure."

Negan stopped me. "So detailed." He stood up making me settle into my seat as I followed his movements. "Where do you come up with these settings?" he asked.

"I'm not sure.. I just use my imagination I guess."

He slid in front of me, my sightlines just above his belt. He leaned down close to my face. I swallowed my saliva nervously as stared me down.

"What are you thinking right now? Hm.?" He whispered.

"I want to kiss you.." I say bluntly.

He stifled a smirk. "Yea.?" voice arrogant in tone.

Leaning closer I closed my eyes.

Our lips brushed against one another his beard poking at my chin and upper lip. I closed the gap moving closer to kiss him.

He kissed back leaning down further to grab behind my neck and guided me to stand up. My hands fell to his hips resting on his leather belt.

I could feel as his fingers laced into my hair, he gripped down hard pulling lightly at the roots. As we kissed my legs rubbed against each other yearning for any sort of friction. Slowly getting closer to him simply just wanting to feel more. My chest pressed against his ribs and He broke the kiss with a deep breath. I could feel him looking down to me as he groaned.

My heart fluttered; I suppose I never thought of him as a verbal man.

He grabbed at my shoulders slowly pulling me away from him; "Shit.."

I looked up trying to gauge his expression.

"We should probably slow down" He licked his lips huffing before going back behind his desk.

I grabbed my book awkwardly shoving it back into my backpack and heading towards the door.

I cleared my throat, "I'll see you at try outs".

------

Tryouts went normal and everyone was sent home with a small pamphlet readying us for first practice dates and uniforms.

Sitting in the passenger seat of my dads truck I finished the paperwork, confirming my shoe, pants and shirt size. I signed the bottom and folded it up.

"How did it go?" My dad asked nonchalantly

"I think it went good." I held back a giddy smile.

#angst #smut #coach negan #cute #lemon #negan #negan smith #twd #coach negan smut #fluff #readerxprofessor #readerxcoach #kis #agegap #neganxreader

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jungwonie-bae · 1 year ago

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10:36 pm

best friend!Jaehyun x fem!reader ; reader is a captain girl basketball player :)

word count~ 1.04k 【1044 words】 genre~ fluff, f2l

warnings- a little suggestive, a few swear words

a/n- pls lmk if I missed anything in the comments!! Pls tell me feedback to improve my writing 😚 *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･—･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･* Your best friend Jaehyun had invited you to a hangout, to play basketball 1v1. You were pretty much excited, both of you being the captain of one another’s team.

jae: meet me at the park down the street

jae: then we’re gonna walk down to the court

jae: I’m gonna beat your short ass btw >:)

you: I’ll be there in 10

you: no you won’t

you: I’m also bringing the ball

you turn off your phone to get ready. you wear your black nike shorts with a thin white zip up (with only your bra under bc you wanted to dress comfy), pack up your drawstring bag with your water bottle and phone in it, and go out the door with your basketball.

you meet Jaehyun at a park where nobody is, and start walking to the basketball court. You make small talk, and stay mostly quiet to listen to jaehyun’s tired ramblings about his day.

Once you arrive at the basketball court, you set down your things and grab your ball.

“I’ll play defense first!” He yells running across the court to put down his things next to yours.

his brown fluffy hair goes up and down as he runs to you. Cute, you think.

As you both stretch a bit, he suddenly suggests, “ Loser buys ice cream?”

“deal.”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･—･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

the score is 9 to 11, Jaehyun taking the lead.

As you bounce the ball you run and try to cut past him. In your failed attempt he grabs to ball and gets to the other side of the court, making a smooth hoop. +2 points for him.

“shit,” you pant, while putting your hands on your knees, “do you want to take a break?”

To him, you look visibly exhausted so of course he can’t say no. “Yeah sure,” he breathes, keeping the ball at his side.

you walk over to your bag, getting your bottle, and sit down on a nearby bench. The male mimics your actions, sitting right next to you.

you chug your water quickly. “Woah slow down there yn you’re gonna choke,” jaehyun warns.

“jae I’m fine.” You eyed his worried face. A comforting silence passes, with you starng at the dim streetlight, while he stares are you. You fail to notice the presence of his eyes.

You look over at him, “let’s continue? I need to get this free ice cream.” You tease. He smirks in return and stands up.

“I might go easy on you, you never know.” He yawns, stretching once again. You stand up after him, and run to the middle of the court.

“Come on slowpoke! I’m gonna beat your ass!”

In the 3rd quarter he plays defense again. As you snatch the ball you run quickly. You pretend to throw the ball, and he jumps thinking he defended.

You smirk and run past him, then shooting a 3-pointer. You pump your fist in the air as a victory.

the score is now 19 to 17, now you being in the lead. A close game. Only 2 minutes left on your phone timer, and it’s the last quarter. You left out a deep breath before running towards the male. He bounces the ball and shoots- but your fast enough you jump and catch the ball.

you quickly bounce the ball and run and fast as you can- and you make a hoop. You smile as you hear the timer ring, look over and see a sulking jaehyun.

“my treat I guess,” he mumbles as he packs up his things.

“aw I’m sorry. I’m just too good. Let’s go get our ice cream~” you tease.

“Okay”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･—･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

The both of you walk to the convenient store down the street together. You talk and laugh about random things. Once you step inside, you both run to the ice cream section. He lets you choose your flavor as he chooses his own as well, and pays.

you lick your ice cream of choice happily while you both walk back to the park to sit down.

silence fills the air once you take your seating.

as you stare off, a thumb comes up to your mouth and swipes near your lips. You look over at the male next to you, as he licks off his thumb.

“you got a little something there.” He smirks and your speechlessness.

Heat crawls up your neck onto your face. You look away, not wanting to making it obvious that you were blushing.

“are you really blushing right now?” Jaehyun asks. You turn back to him.

“what?!? no!! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You look everywhere but him. You keep eating your ice cream, trying to distract yourself.

“you know let me ask you something.”

you look up, waiting for him to continue. “Do you like me? I’m genuinely curious.” He asks.

“Where did you get that from?” You ask, not wanting to seem obvious about your little crush.

“I might’ve heard a little something from haechan..” he mumbles. You head snaps towards him as you stand up. That catches his attention immediately. You shove your wrapper into your jacket pocket.

“damn! Fuck haechan! That’s why I never trusted him!” You whisper-shout. you look at jaehyun slowly. “ fine I like you, so what? It’s not like your going to return my feelings right?

he looks at you shocked, and stands up shoving his finished ice cream wrapper in his pocket as well.

“no, no, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Please hear me out. I do actually like you back.” He says, voice small.

you smile at him, at his confession.

“are you for real right now?” You question. He nods quickly.

You would’ve never thought this would happen. Your scenarios of rejections are finally gone. You sigh in content.

You calmly walk closer to him little by little. He doesn’t back away. Instead he cradles your face in his hand and presses his lips upon yours. You blush at the sensation, and lean into his touch. When you both pull away he hugs you. “I really like you.” You say.

“I like you more,” he smiles. You smile back at him.

“I’m gonna thank haechan later for this.” You mumble under your breath.

a/n- hii I rlly hope you liked this fic!!!! The time is based off of a beabadobee song <33 pls pls lmk if you have any concerns! ly guys ☺️

#jaehyun #nct 127 #nct #jaehyun fluff #nct fluff #fluff #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x y/n #nct dojaejung #jaehyun imagines

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whatisthiswritingthing · 3 years ago

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Get Over Yourself - Lindsey Horan x Reader

Prompt: The Great Horan x reader? Where she and R aren’t a thing, but there are some feelings there. R always flirts with her and asks her out a lot, but Lindsey always rejects her. Eventually, R stops doing it bc she doesn’t want to continue being hurt and disappointed by the rejection. So, when R gets shipped with another teammate (you decide) by the fans, R has to flirt with them as PR stunt. Lindsey gets jealous and realizes that she wants to be the only one R flirts with. Cue an angsty fight between the two until she finally tells R how she feels and they make up.

“Hey Linds, do you believe in love at first sight?” Y/N smirked, slowly walking past Lindsey, pausing, waiting for the midfielder to acknowledge her. Once Lindsey looked up, cocking her head to the side, she continued, “or do you need me to walk by again?” Y/N winked, giving a slow, dramatic strut past.

Several players rolled their eyes, some boo’ing, while others squirted Y/N with water. Lindsey just rolled her eyes, fighting a smirk, “come on, let’s pass,” she reached a handout for Y/N to help tug her up.

Y/N grasped the offered hand, tugging Lindsey to a standing position. Lindsey, not expecting Y/N to actually pull her up, pushed herself up at the same time, crashing her body into Y/N’s.

“If you wanted to feel me up, you just had to ask,” Y/N smirked, hands on either of Lindsey’s hips to help steady her.

“You gotta buy me dinner first for that,” Lindsey gave Y/N a gentle shove to the chest before jogging away, tapping a ball with her.

“Yea?” Y/N hesitated, biting her lip, watching the blonde to see if she was serious or not. The friends had such a flirtatious relationship, the lines between friends and more had been blurred, were blurred. Hands would wander, hugs lingered, eyes always finding each other in crowded rooms. Y/N was the first person Lindsey would seek out when she needed to talk about something, needed comfort, or just needed to hear Y/N’s voice.

Anyone watching the two women could easily interpret the interactions would assume the friends were a couple. But they weren’t. The concept of a romantic relationship had never been discussed. Y/N had been working to feel out if it was more than harmless flirting for Lindsey, like it was for herself. But their friendship had been like this for so long, Y/N didn’t know how Lindsey felt.

Y/N knew how she felt, how she couldn’t help be drawn to Lindsey, and would be more than willing maintain the friendship as long as it meant she still got to be with the midfielder. Worried if Lindsey knew the true intention behind Y/N’s flirting it would push her away.

Y/N was brought out of her musings when Lindsey flipped a ball into her stomach.

“We playing or not you weirdo?” Lindsey smirked.

“Oh yea,” Y/N kicked the ball back, still only half paying attention. Her thoughts still on her feelings for the blonde, distracted by Lindsey implying she might want to go for dinner with Y/N, “so you, me, dinner. Then you can feel me up as much as you want,” the soccer player smirked, but her eyes critically watching the midfielder.

Lindsey scoffed, rolling her eyes, “What, like a date?” thinking it was a joke, laughed, juggling the ball a few times before passing it back, “like I would ever date you,” she continued to laugh alone.

Y/N felt her entire body heat up. Lindsey thought it was a joke. A joke they would ever date. That she was a joke, the concept of them as a joke, “hey, I was just trying to give you free access to touch all this,” she awkwardly motioned the length of her body, “your loss, “she tried to play it off, hoping her voice sounded more nonchalant than it really felt.

Thankfully, Y/N was saved from having to hear what Lindsey would say or do by practicing beginning.

For the next two hours, it was Y/N could do to avoid Lindsey. Switching lines for drills, have to re-tie her cleats several times, even requesting more work with the defenders to avoid all the midfielders. Everyone gave Y/N strange looks when she darted away at the water break and Lindsey reached out to touch a bruise forming on Y/N’s leg.

Somehow, Y/N managed to avoid the team for the next two days. Arriving just on time to meetings, meals, and practices. Leaving as soon as she could. She spent two days putting in extra workouts, extra training, or just wandering the mall. Anything that would keep her put of the hotel and away from the team. She was only trying to avoid the blonde, but she knew it was near impossible to avoid one person in the close group of women.

“Y/L/N!” one of the media coordinators called her as she tried to rush out of another meeting on the third day, “you and Mewis are up for media, let’s go.”

“Fuck” Y/N mumbled, slowly turning around to follow the media person.

“Don’t sound so excited!” Kristie slung an arm across Y/N’s shoulders, “we’re both hot, funny, and supposedly really good at soccer. We are a triple threat!” she tugged Y/N to a stop to jump on her back for a piggy back ride, “we get stuck, just flex these guns,” Kristie teasingly squeezed Y/N’s arms, “and they’ll all be so distracted we can just run away.”

That drew a genuine laugh from the soccer player, she tightened her hold under the blondes’ legs and carried her into the media room.

The media team all laughed as the pair walked in, Kristie having wrapped her legs around Y/N’s waist and around her shoulders., holding so tightly Y/N didn’t need to hold her. Looking similar to koala on a branch.

“USWNT presents ‘Koala or Kristie’. Where we show you a picture and you decide if it’s a koala or a Kristie,” Y/N announced to the media staff as she turned so Kristie could let go and drop right into the chair. When Kristie didn’t let go right away, Y/N reached behind her and began tickling the blonde until her grip let go and she fell into the chair.

The staff all laughed at the pairs antics, “you guys are already live,” one called while the two finished settling into the chairs, handing a phone over so they could read the questions being sent in.

Y/N smirked while she scrolled through the comments, letting Kristie introduce them and officially start their session.

“Alright Y/N/N,” Kristie leaned into Y/N’s side to attempt to read the phone and choose a question, “start off with a good one.”

“I have one of my own before I get to the fan ones,” Y/N giggled, grinning at the blonde while she tugged the phone away, “do you think you have the right koala-fications?”

Kristie stared at Y/N before glancing to the media staff behind the camera, “I think I’m busy today guys, I am available when I can do this with anyone else.”

Y/N maintained a serious expression, “that answers that, Kristie Mewis does not have the right koala-fications,” she began scrolling through the phone looking for a real fan question while Kristie turned and mock gasped at Y/N, “if I could play any other sport professionally, I would be a basketball player,” she continued on, ignoring Kristie staring at her.

Y/N deliberately focused on the phone, waiting for Kristie to say anything, her serious expression slipping and a smirk cracking through.

Kristie shook her head, “no way you could be a basketball player, you’re way too short,” she held a hand up next to her, drastically exaggerating Y/N’s height.

“But I’ve got mad hops, and big feet!” Y/N put her hands under her knee and lifted her leg, so her foot was in view of the camera.

“That just means you have big feet, not that it will make you a good basketball player,” Kristie laughed, pushing Y/N’s foot away from her.

“My mom said I’ll grow into them, there’s still a chance,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. She knew she wouldn’t get any taller, but it was fun working Kristie up.

“You’re 28, you’re not growing into your feet at this point,” Kristie rolled her eyes, shaking her head, “read a question!”

Much of their live session went that way, very few questions being answered. The friends easily distracted, telling stories or just bantering, forgetting the camera was there entirely.

By the end of the say, the video had been picked apart, screenshots were made, and new a secret couple was formed.

Y/N had gone back to avoiding the team, her thoughts even more jumbled now that everyone assumed she was with Kristie. She didn’t have feelings for Kristie, she loved her like a friend and loved their easy going dynamic, but it would never be anything more that. And she knew Kristie felt the same.

“You’re avoiding me,” Lindsey said as greeting when Y/N walked into her room the next day.

“Fuck!” Y/N stepped back into the closed door, her body crashing against it, “what the fuck Lindsey?” she stomped further into the room.

“You’re avoiding me,” Lindsey repeated, sitting in a chair in the corning, watching Y/N move around the room.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Y/N continued to rummage around the room, mindlessly moving things around in order to look busy, “how’d you get into my room?”

“Kicked your rookie out, convinced the poor kid medical needed to redo their testing,” she answered quickly, “you’re avoiding me,” she said it a third time.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Y/N began to refold her suitcase to keep her hands busy and continue to avoid looking at the blonde critically staring at her, “but just to clarify, if I was, you thought the solution was to corner me in my room?”

“Is this because of practice the other day?” Lindsey pushed out of the chair and closed the distance between them, “because I know I’ve felt you up for less than dinner before,” she chuckled softly, stepping close, pressing her body against y/N’s placing a handout to land low on Y/N’s hip.

Y/N abruptly dropped the shirt she was folding and took two large steps away from Lindsey, “Fuck Lindsey, it’s not always about you. I’m not avoiding you. I haven’t hung out with anyone else,” she snapped, her jaw clenching while she stared hard at Lindsey.

Lindsey stared wide eyed at the sudden outburst before gathering herself, snapping back, “yet, Kristie gets to hang all over you.”

“You hang all over me all the time Lindsey, it’s the same thing. Besides, it was for the live thing we did,” Y/N didn’t know what she was so angry all of a sudden. She was avoiding Lindsey and Lindsey was just calling her out on the immature behaviour. Y/N really didn’t understand why she was upset, Lindsey had a right to confront her avoidance. Y/N was the one that had decided to pull away when it seemed Lindsey didn’t see their friendship as anything more. But what Y/N really didn’t understand, was why Lindsey was so upset about Kristie being on her.

Lindsey knew why she was upset. She had spent the last two days always just missing Y/N and had replayed all their interactions before Y/N seemingly disappeared. The only thing she could come up with when she joked about them going out and shooting down Y/N’s dinner invite. Then she watched the live session Y/N did with Kristie, a few other players planning on throwing in their own obscure questions. The feeling she got in her chest watching Y/N carry Kristie in was a feeling she couldn’t place; she’d never felt it before.

Jealously was what Alex said.

Longing was what Kelley said.

Infatuation was what Rose said.

Gross was what Sam said, thinking it was directed at her sister.

Realization was what Sonnett said.

She sat silent the entire time, that feeling growing throughout. She ruminated on what her friends. None of the words fit, yet, they all fit. That was the problem, they all fit. She was realizing her feelings for Y/N. She was infatuated with how effortlessly funny she was. Longed to be the one Y/N was making smile the way she was making Kristie smile. And she jealous Kristie got to be the one Y/N was with while she had been avoided for two days.

So, Lindsey knew why she was upset. She was frustrated at herself because she wanted to tell Y/N how she felt but she couldn’t get the words out. Could only make a joke that didn’t end up being a great joke because now Y/N was upset too.

“Get over yourself Lindsey. You don’t get a say in who hangs on me and who doesn’t,” Y/N said, her voice had started firm, but sounded defeated by the end. She looked down before shuffling back to the bed to resume folding her clothes.

“But what if I did?” Lindsey rushed out, crinkling her face at how that sounded, implying Y/N was something someone controlled, “fuck, that came out wrong! I meant, I want hang all over you and you to hang all over me. And dinner, so I can feel you up. And I don’t want you avoiding me anymore.”

Y/N’s hands paused while she folder her shirt, before continuing, her eyes never leaving the shirt, “Lindsey, you don’t get to come in here pissed at me because you got jealous, then expect things to be alright.”

“I don’t want that or expect that! Yes, I got so jealous when I saw you and Kristie together and I didn’t even understand what it meant. But then I figured it out, I wanted all our banter and jokes about being together to be real. I don’t want to call you at the end of bad day, because I won’t have to because you’ll be in the bed next to me,” Lindsey saw Y/N’s hands stop moving and the shirt slip back on top of the suit case, Y/N’s arms dropping to her side, but she still wouldn’t look up.

Lindsey took a tentative step closer, not wanting to spook the girl away like she had initially.

“I want it all to be real. I want everything we had a couple days ago again, but I want it to be real and more. I want this gross longing feeling to stop because I have you again,” taking a risk, she gently held Y/N’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

Y/N squeezed back before letting go, “Linds, just because you got jealous doesn’t me this is what you want. You like the idea of me, you don’t like me. And we can try and go back to how it was before, but my feelings are real, Lindsey, I know how I feel about you.”

“My feelings are real too!” Lindsey gripped Y/N’s hand again, tight, “this isn’t just me being jealous, watching you with Kristie was just what I needed to realize that I was just too scared to admit how I felt about you. I know how I feel about you,” she finished with conviction, reaching for other hand and squeezed both tight.

“Ok,” Y/N nodded, seeing the sincerity on Lindsey’s face.

“Ok?”

Lindsey was confused, she poured her heart out and she gets is ok?

“I don’t know your feelings Linds, but I trust you, and if you say they are real, then they’re real,” she smiled.

“So, can I take you for dinner?” Lindsey asked, still shy even though she knew the answer would be yes.

“And you can feel me up all you want after.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #lindsey horan x reader #lindsey horan imagine

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goldentournesol · 4 years ago

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Be Careful What You Wish For

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Spencer gets exactly what he wished for, but it isn’t necessarily for the best.

Length: 5k

A/N: this is based off of maybe one of the best requests i have ever received, thank you so much anon, your request really got my creative juices going! also i combined this request with another one, too <3 (angst, just straight up, with happy ending tho)

masterlist

The sun was shining against the glass windows of the car. The sunset was so beautiful with its melting and merging colors, Y/N wished it lasted longer so she could watch it. It’d been feeling like beautiful moments were few and far between lately.

No one ever said being in a relationship was easy, but she’d never expected to drift this far from Spencer. She couldn’t exactly place the moment at which the descent of their relationship began, if she was being honest. One day, they’d be happy, smiling, full of love and life. And then the next, waves of darkness and despair would appear. They weren’t even the kinds of waves that would disappear with the shining sun. No, they were there to stay and fuel the storm that continues to rage on.

Today was one of those days. To be fair, the whole team was struggling, but Spencer had taken Morgan’s departure a little harder than everyone else. It was understandable, of course. Derek was a staple in Spencer’s life for so long. However, for a man who’s seen and been through so many losses, he sure was terrible at dealing with them. Spencer’s tendency to keep things bottled up had definitely been affecting the overall health of their relationship. In fact, it has been the root of a lot of their arguments lately. Y/N just wanted him to let her in, let her help him and she was willing to wait however long it takes. Spencer on the other hand grew more and more snappy, irritable, and private with each passing day.

When they were at work, they tried their best to avoid each other so as to not get on each other’s nerves. Their fights usually didn’t turn into screaming matches, but they both had a track record of saying things they don’t mean. Hurtful things. Turns out profilers are fantastic at rubbing salt into open wounds.

Ever since they began dating, Spencer took the subway less, opting for car rides with Y/N. Sometimes she’d drop him off, other times they’d spend the rest of the day at each other’s houses. She enjoyed driving him around, at first he was never too picky with the music she played, but later on, his music began to overtake hers. It never bothered her, in fact, she took it as a sign of him being vulnerable and sharing parts of himself.

The days where car rides once filled with joyous singing and laughter were coming to a shocking halt. The silence nowadays was almost always louder than the music they used to play. Even small talk felt like too much of a burden sometimes.

“Should I just drop you off at your place? Or do you wanna come over to mine? I still have some of that lasagna you liked in the fridge.” She asked softly as they slowed down into traffic. Rush hour in DC was never fun.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just have whatever’s at my place.” Spencer was being curt with his responses. Thus, the warning signs began flashing in her head.

“Are you sure? We can even pick something up from that one grocery store on our way home, something that goes well with the lasagna. I don’t mind cooking today.” She offered, hoping he wouldn’t shut her out like he usually did.

He shook his head, keeping his voice eerily level and his gaze was set on the road in front of him, “I just really wanna be home, Y/N.”

She nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

A short silence ensued as traffic began to thin out. Cars that were stuck bumper to bumper were beginning to move.

“Is this about Derek leaving?” She asked tentatively. He sighed and pursed his lips in response so she continued, “You know he said he was always a phone call away.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Spencer said shortly, gazing out the window.

“You never want to talk about anything.” She said defeatedly, the car beginning to move freely on the road.

“Yeah, well maybe that’s true. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” Spencer spat, clearly growing impatient.

“Fine, don’t talk to me then. But talk to someone, anyone! Hell, talk to Derek himself. Tell him you hate him for leaving or whatever you’re feeling, but don’t take out your anger and unresolved feelings out on me, okay? I don’t deserve that! Everyday I try to get you to talk to me, but it seems like with every little step I take forward, you take two steps back. And it’s exhausting. It is fucking exhausting, Spencer.” She frowned, tears welling up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

“I didn’t ask you for that! I didn’t ask for you to be my personal therapist. If I wanted to see a therapist, I would have gone to see one!” Spencer gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke.

“Spencer, in a relationship, we’re supposed to confide in one another. It’s supposed to be comforting. I don’t want to be your therapist, I just want you to talk to me!” She unconsciously began to press on the pedal, perhaps in an attempt to reach a destination quicker. He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Relationship? You call this a relationship? We can barely stand to be in the same room together, Y/N.”

“And that’s why we talk it out. No relationship is ever perfect! You should know that, Spencer!” She shrieked, gripping the steering wheel in frustration.

“That’s not true. What I had with Maeve was perfect until it was ruined.” He uttered.

“Maeve?!” She squealed incredulously, “Really?! What you had with Maeve was perfect?! Spencer, what you had wasn’t real like us! You spoke to her over the phone once a week! You wrote to her in letters, where you have time to-to think and to respond! It isn’t like real life, it isn’t like you and me! What we have is real! I-I’ve lived with you, I’ve seen you torn to pieces, I’ve seen you laugh until you cry. That’s the you I fell in love with, not some fantasy I created of you over the phone!” She spoke but the words were garbled between incoming sobs that she was frantically wiping the remnants of off her cheeks. The same sobs she’d tried so hard to suppress. She was barely aware of the words that came out of her mouth.

“If what I had with Maeve wasn’t real, then why do I wish she were the one here with me instead of you?!” Spencer defended, unaware of how sharp his words were or how deeply they’d wounded her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, taking her already blurry vision off of the road in front of her to face him, “What?” She whispered brokenhearted, but the utterance was immediately swallowed by the unmistakable, earsplitting sound of metal clashing violently against metal. They had no choice but to succumb to the inundating darkness that rapidly overtook them both.

***

Spencer woke with a violent start and sat up in his own bed. He sighed in relief when he realized it was just a dream and it was morning again. Turning his head to look at the left side of the bed where she usually slept, he expected to find her there and was taken by surprise when she wasn’t. He rubbed at his face and eyes vigorously before hearing some clattering in the kitchen. With long strides he saw a blurry figure in the kitchen making coffee and walked towards it.

He sighed in relief, “Hey, there you are. I just had the worst dream.” He huffed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck in his half-asleep state.

“Hey, good morning, lovebug.” She smiled and turned around to hug him tightly.

Something felt off. Something wasn’t right.

He’d heard that voice before. He pulled back from the hug and was met by…

It wasn’t Y/N. It was Maeve.

Spencer could barely control his expression as complete bone-stilling shock washed over his entire being, “M-Maeve?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She said, a kind smile resting upon her features. If Spencer wasn’t so shocked, he’d probably have laughed at the absurd truth of that statement. Maeve brought her hand up to his forehead, “Are you feeling okay?”

He didn’t even have time to be confused before he jerked back quickly at the touch of her hand, “I-uh, uh...I’m not feeling too g-good. Um...what’s happening?” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes again, almost like they’d be polished and he’d see more clearly. But when he opened his eyes again, she was still there. Right in front of him. There was no light emitting from behind her, she was totally opaque. It was eerily real.

Her face was full of color and life and she was dressed in one of his cardigans over her own set of matching pajamas. She was moving and...alive. And speaking to him. What is happening right now?

“But y-you’re...how are you here right now? Am I still dreaming? Am I...Maeve, am I dead?” Spencer shook his head in an attempt to wake back up.

She began to laugh and pulled out a chair for him to sit on, and so he did, still staring up at her in disbelief, “No, baby, you’re very much alive. You’re probably just still confused from whatever nightmare you had. Here, have some water.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, confused. Um, what day is it?” Spencer began to pat on his chest to make sure he was solid and alive.

She looked at him curiously at his strange behavior, “It’s April 5th, 2016.”

April 5th? Derek left the BAU near the end of March. A light bulb went off in his head.

The BAU!

They’d have all the answers. He shot up from his seat immediately, “I uh, have to get to work.” Spencer rushed to his bedroom to get dressed.

As he’s dressing, he spots a picture frame on his bedside table. He knows the picture by heart, it was of him and Y/N in the pumpkin patch last year. He’d had his arms tightly wound around her shoulders and was kissing her cheek. The leaves were the most colorful they’d ever been. He picked it up and almost dropped it immediately like it had burned his skin. It was the same picture.

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen. In her place was Maeve.

No, no, no. This isn’t right.

Spencer began to panic as he buttoned up his shirt, he threw on his cardigan and practically flew out the door. In the distance, he could hear Maeve in the background calling out for him to drink his coffee before leaving.

The train ride to work was truly a test of his patience. He couldn’t keep his knee still and checked his watch religiously. After the train stopped, was the first one off and ran as fast as his poor feet could take him. He stopped running when he got to the FBI Headquarters as to not alarm anyone, but raced to the sixth floor anyway.

As he opened the glass doors he searched frantically for any familiar face, “Garcia!” He yelled as he spotted her bright yellow clad figure across the bullpen. He pushed through tired agents and messy desks to get to her. Everything else was the same, the office was just as he remembered it.

“Good morning, boy wonder! How are you today?” She smiled graciously, holding a few files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Have you seen Y/N?” He asked impatiently. She pulled her brows together.

“Do you mean Y/N...Y/L/N?” She asked slowly, as if trying to recall her name.

“Yes, of course I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Who else would I be talking about?” Spencer asked, once again losing more of his patience.

“No, I haven’t seen her, to be honest. I don’t see much of the White-Collar Crime division up here unless Hotch asks for them. Why do you need Y/N? Is she okay?” Garcia casually answered, as if her answer hadn’t turned his world--this world--whatever the hell he was experiencing upside down.

“White-Collar crime? No, that can’t be right.” Spencer muttered to himself as his brain raced a million miles a second.

“Reid, is everything alright? Is there a possible case? Should I tell Hotch?” Garcia asked, but Spencer was barely listening.

He was on his way back to the elevators again, leaving an extremely confused Penelope in his wake. He raced down to the fourth floor, to the White-Collar crime division. As the elevator doors opened, his eyes scanned the crowded floor for her.

“Dr. Reid! It’s nice to see you down here. What can I do for you?” An agent, Agent Seymour, he’s met perhaps once before asked him.

“Hi, yes, I’m um..looking for one of your agents. Agent Y/L/N.” Spencer stuttered, it was weird saying her name so formally. But he had to see it with his own eyes.

“Yes, of course, right this way. I think she just came in.” The agent led him to a desk in the middle of the bullpen and left him, saying that she was probably getting coffee and should be back an second. Spencer looked over her desk and compared it with how her desk at the BAU looked like. Gone were the trinkets and books he’d given her. Gone was the candle she never lit, but kept anyway because she said it smelled like him. It was like staring at a stranger’s desk, so desolate, so...un-special.

“Jeremy, stop. I almost spilled my coffee!” She giggled from behind him. He’d recognize her voice anywhere. He turned to see her and his lungs filled with relief as he spotted her familiar face across the bullpen. There she was, in all her glory. Looking as beautiful as ever. His Y/N. But the relief was ripped away all too suddenly as he watched on. She had her coffee in one hand and the other was swatting a very sheepish looking Jeremy, he assumed.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just missed you.” He spoke, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips.

She blushed immediately and shied away, “Jeremy, we’re in the office!” She giggled again and pulled away from him, glancing around the office as if to check if anyone saw the moment of affection. Spencer’s blood boiled before he realized.

She looked so happy.

So much happier than she ever looked when she was with him. His heart sank to his feet and he felt like he was incapable of lifting it back up to its rightful place in his chest. He wondered if this was the universe’s cruel, cruel way of letting him know just how shitty of a boyfriend he’s really been. Fire of envy festered in the place where his heart used to reside. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, resentment, or guilt.

It all felt so strange. It felt like there was suddenly way too much pressure in his head. Before he could begin to compute the events unfolding before him, he realized she had spotted him at her desk and was now making her way across the bullpen, separating from her Jeremy. Before he could freak out, she was speaking to him. And all he could focus on was the shape of her lips and the faint memory of how they felt pushing against his.

“Dr. Reid! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?” She asked politely, but Spencer could tell that she was immeasurably confused by his presence, “Does Agent Hotchner need something from the White Collar crimes archives?”

Spencer panicked, “Yes! Um, he does...and um he asked me to ask you s-specifically. That’s why I’m here, heh.” He stammered like the nervous wreck he was and wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his pockets.

“Okay, that’s no problem. Just tell me the number of the file and I’ll get it for you.” She smiled slightly, setting her cup of coffee down on her desk. At least her coffee order was still the same as it was.

She disappeared for a few moments after he gave her a random sequence of numbers. Spencer wasn’t even sure how his legs were still capable of holding himself up. When she came back and he got a whiff of her perfume, his body completely stilled. He knows that scent like the back of his hand, he’d given it to her for their first anniversary. The fresh scent nearly sent him into anaphylactic shock. He’d accepted the file and scurried back to the sixth floor without another word, once again leaving a confused woman in his wake.

Spencer collapsed at his desk and rubbed his head like it would somehow fix this. Whatever this was. Everyone around him operated so normally and went about their day while he was seconds away from losing his mind.

Was he having a schizophrenic scare? Did his symptoms bleed into his 30’s even though they weren’t supposed to? What was this alternate universe where he’d lost the one good thing he’s ever known? How was he supposed to get back? Did he want to go back? What would happen if he did? Would it be fair for Y/N to stick with him when he knew she would be so much happier with someone else? Would he try harder for her? Would he stop shutting her out? Would the woman he loved so dearly ever love him back?

He must not have ever been deserving of her love and the universe was punishing him in the worst way possible. To have her be within arm’s reach but to never be able to hold her.

Once upon a time, he would have given up anything and everything to be with Maeve, but that was before Y/N. Before she gave him a new life, one he wanted to live. One where waking up wasn’t such a task. One where seeing her smile at him was enough to make him forget about all his worries. But now Y/N looked at him with barely a sliver of recognition. There was no affection or adoration behind those eyes and maybe he deserved that.

But how was this universe expecting him to go on like everything is fine? Like he hadn’t just lost the love of his life? No one else in this warped version of Spencer’s reality was feeling as dejected as Spencer was.

“Reid, are you feeling alright?” The voice of none other than Aaron Hotchner brought him out of his stupor. Spencer had unknowingly been sobbing into his hands for the past few minutes. Hotch was taken aback at the extent of Spencer’s disheveled state.

“H-Hotch, I need to go home. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” Spencer packed his things and ran out the building before he realized he had nowhere to go. Home wasn’t his home anymore. He couldn’t exactly go back and see his dead girlfriend wandering around his apartment. He couldn’t be at work where Y/N was, so blissfully unaware of the crisis Spencer was in the middle of.

He wandered the streets of DC aimlessly as he tried to reorganize the events in his head and somehow make sense of them. Just a few days ago, he and Y/N had been holding one another on his couch. Sure, they’d been in a rut recently, but they still loved each other. At least that’s what he thought.

He walked and walked, miles on end, keeping his gaze on his feet as he tried to piece bits together. An IQ of 187 and he had absolutely no idea how whatever was happening to him happened. Even the multiple universes theory didn’t have his back. If he was ‘here’, where has ‘here’s’ Spencer gone?

His feet had taken him to the local park, where he and Y/N used to sit under the stars. He found himself reminiscing the times they were together. He saw himself and Y/N in every couple that passed him by. Exhausted, Spencer took a seat on a patch of grass. He buried his face into his hands and tried to relieve himself of the headache he’d developed.

“Hey, mister! Watch out!!” He heard a child yell way too loudly.

Groaning at the volume, he looked up to see the vague shape of a spinning baseball increasing in size as it moved closer….closer. Spencer had no time to react before he was knocked out cold by the baseball.

***

The first thing she’d heard was the incessant beeping of...something next to her. After that, she’d heard faint chatter. The voices sounded familiar but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. She whimpered in pain which caught the attention of everyone in the room. The chatter ceased.

“Y/N? Honey, it’s Pen, can you hear me?” A voice called. She fought to open her eyes.

Why was it so hard to open her eyes? It was like they were glued shut. Why did everything hurt? What is that smell?

She made a small noise of agreement to the voice that called, but could not coordinate herself enough to speak or open her eyes.

“Y/N, darling, you’re in the hospital, okay? You were in a car accident.” She spoke softly.

But the words weren’t soft at all. Her words had opened up a Pandora’s box of previously suppressed memories. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. It was hard to breathe as she tried to remember the last moments before the fog. She remembered seeing him so angry, eyes so wild. Who is he? So...so close. She whimpered in pain as she fought the fog away.

Blood.

So much blood.

Pain.

So much pain.

The others watched as she began to writhe against the hospital bed in discomfort. Her eyes snapped open the second she saw his face in her mind, frantically searching the room for him.

Spencer.

“Sp-Sp--” She began, but couldn’t formulate the rest of the word. Exhausted and defeated by the lack of his presence, she lay back on the bed.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Spencer’s...Spencer’s fine, alright? You can’t see him right now, but you will be able to.” Those words were the last thing she heard before she slipped off into a silent slumber.

Hours later, she awoke again. But this time with enough strength to open her eyes immediately. Her limbs felt like they weighed tons, she could barely lift a finger. The room was empty besides a single chair with a blurry figure seated in it.

“Spencer?” She uttered almost inaudibly and the figure moved.

“Hey there. Sorry, I’m not Spencer.” The figure moved closer and she recognized the blonde sheen.

“JJ.” Y/N croaked with relief, happy to see a friend. JJ promptly gave her some water in a cup and adjusted the bed so that she would be able to swallow it.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, taking the cup from Y/N’s trembling hands.

Y/N shook her head imperceptibly, “Is...Spence--is he?” Y/N barely got to finish her thought before the tears settled in.

“No, gosh, no. He’s alive. Thankfully, you both made it out alive.” JJ said with relief, leaning her elbows against the side of her bed. Y/N felt her breathing get easier as she learned of the news. She blinked hard, trying to control the tears, but they just flowed out.

“It’s my fault, JJ.” she paused to take a deep breath and JJ took one of her hands in hers, “I was the one driving. I should have been more careful. I-I was so mad.” She sobbed, the tears escaping.

“Hey, no, it’s alright now. Okay, you’ve both made it out alive, that’s what’s important.” JJ rubbed Y/N’s knuckles.

“W-where is he? I need to see him.” Y/N attempted to sit up but winced from the sharp pain in her side.

“Um..yeah, about that. You can’t really get up yet. You’ve got three broken ribs, a broken leg, and a severe concussion.” JJ delivered the news and Y/N’s tears seemed to flow even harder.

Before she could respond, Hotch, Penelope, and a nurse walked into the room, “Oh, sunshine! It’s so good to see you awake!” Penelope squealed and kissed her wet cheek gently before wiping away her tears. The nurse checked all her vitals and gave her some extra information before she left. Y/N forced a smile and sat back, but something in the room felt heavy.

“What’s going on? What aren’t you guys telling me?” Y/N frowned, staring at her friends. She saw them all exchange a look and Hotch being the most straightforward man she knows decided to deliver the news.

“It’s Spencer. Unfortunately, Spencer’s brain has swelled significantly and doctors don’t know when he’ll wake. It’s already been almost 42 hours since the accident.” Hotch frowned, watching Y/N’s expression turn from a hopeful one into one of the most unbearable expressions of grief.

“Wh--what, what does that mean? Does that mean he’s--is he ever going to wake up?” She began to panic, her heart rate audibly increasing. She squeezed JJ’s hand as hard as she could.

“We can’t be sure yet, the swelling has to go down before doctors can make any claims. It’s still too early to say he’s in a coma, which is a good sign. He’s also been showing steady signs of improvement.” Hotch said and Y/N covered her face to shield herself away from the embarrassment of openly sobbing.

JJ and Penelope both looked at the bruised and broken girl on the bed with tears brimming their eyes, unsure of what to do.

“I have to see him. Please. Please, JJ.” Y/N sobbed, pleading at the woman beside her. JJ looked towards Hotch for guidance.

“I’ll speak with the Doctor and see what I can do.” Hotch nodded once and left the room. Aaron Hotchner was simply a man you couldn’t say no to. Thankfully, this extended to doctors as well. The next time someone came in, they entered with a wheelchair. After many screams and with the help of three nurses and a doctor, they managed to get Y/N into the wheelchair. They rolled her off into Spencer’s room where he lay motionless on a bed just like hers. The sight of him so frail with so many tubes going in and out of his orifices should have overwhelmed her, but she was just so happy to see him breathing. Once again she could barely control her tears as she weakly gripped at the hand that was closest to her. She pressed sloppy, uncoordinated kisses to the back of his hand and pleaded for him to wake.

The sight was overwhelming, even for Hotch. It was difficult to see their two youngest agents fight for their lives.

And for the next two days, this is how it went. Y/N would wake from her slumber, request to see Spencer and would not leave his side unless her Doctor absolutely required her to. She didn’t care about what he’d said to her before the crash, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She just wanted him here. She wanted to hear his voice again. What a luxury that was.

Slowly, Spencer began improving. He’d begin to open his eyes but shut them immediately afterwards. He’d make noises, even though they were very garbled, they were very welcome. Y/N would read to him, she’d have any one of their friends bring over his favorite books and she’d pass the time reading to him. It was difficult at first, but she’d improved too.

On the fifth day, he was awake and fully conscious before she even got to his room.

He heard his teammates speaking around him again and what a relief it had been to wake in a hospital bed rather than his own bed. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as they updated him of what happened in the recent days.

It wasn’t real.

None of it was.

Maeve wasn’t there, Y/N was his, no one else’s.

He’d been sure of it when they’d rolled her into his room and near his bed, eyes lit with hope surrounded by healing scrapes and bruises.

“Spence? Spencer!” She exclaimed, “Oh thank God you’re awake.” She whispered trying her hardest to lean towards him on the bed.

Spencer fought to raise his arm to touch her arm, “Y/N? A-are you really here?” He whispered back.

“I’m here baby, I’m here. I’m never leaving you.” She sobbed, leaning her face into his awaiting palm. Spencer’s chest filled with immense relief as his thumbs caught her fallen tears.

“Y/N, wait--Y/N, I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry about what I said. I remember. I didn’t mean it. You’re the one for me. Life is perfect with you.” Spencer frowned as tears of his own raced down his cheeks.

Y/N shook her head, “It’s okay, I don’t care about that anymore. I could have lost you. I-if I had lost you, I would have lost myself Spencer. I love you so much. I love you so much.” She repeated as she kissed the palm of his hand.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

How could he have ever wished to live without this? Without her?

The universe had taught him his lesson and boy was he glad he had learned it.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #mgg #CM

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levis-hazelnut · 4 years ago

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Levi x Reader Smile For Me

Summary: you were found curled up outside HQ, basically on the brink of death. However, Levi finds you and takes you to the infirmary. To his surprise, Erwin enlists you as a scout.

Levi's POV "Levi, where's your squad?" Commander Eyebro-- I mean, Erwin asked. "I don't know. Probably picking each other's noses or some sh*t like that." "Go get them. We need to go get supplies." I sighed, walking away to look for my squad of idiots, who I didn't want to bring along since they would just mess around. I went into the castle, hearing loud chatter and laughter so I went towards the source. Opening the door to the mess hall, I find them sitting around a table. "What the hell are you guys doing? I told you to be at the stables after breakfast." "We were playing truth or dare." "Get your a*ses outside." They all followed me in silence; I'm guessing it was because they didn't want to irritate me any further. All of us got on our horses, me and Erwin at the front, and we were about to leave until we saw something the size of a human scrunched up in a ball. I jumped off of my horse and crouched down as I frowned. I scrunched my nose up in disgust, brushing the unruly hair from their face and I saw (E/C) eyes half-open, staring up at me. I was able to see the bones under her skin on her face, arms and legs, while the rest of her body was covered by a scruffy dress. She looked as if she was on the brink of death, pale and weak, and she seemed to have trouble to breathe. I didn't think she would be able to walk in this state, or maybe even stay alive for a few more days.

When I stood up and looked at Erwin, he had just leapt off from his horse and neared me.

"What's wrong?" "This girl looks like she's going to die anytime soon." "Let's take her to the infirmary." I nodded and went back to the girl, crouching down again and scooping her up to carry her to the infirmary, which wasn't far. I asked them to take my horse back to the stables before they left to get supplies without me. Normal POV You laid on the most comfortable bed you've ever been on. Out of a window, you could see the bright, azure blanket illuminated by the radiant sun.

Before you had slept, for however long, you weren't able to breathe properly but now you were able to with ease. Though you felt a lot better than before, your stomach was still growling for some food. You brushed your hand over your stomach, feeling the soft and clean clothes you had on your body. The door opened, making your eyes to flit there and you gripped the pristine sheets, terrified to find someone walking in. He had blonde hair, blue orbs that radiated a warmth that made you feel comfortable. He gave you a smile and approached you. You've never seen him before, but he's acting so casually around you. "Do you feel better?" You stayed silent, not wanting to talk to this mysterious man even though he seems benign. "I'm guessing you're hungry after sleeping for two days." He passed you a tray of food, your eyes beaming at the amount there was. Almost immediately, you picked up the spoon and popped a bit of food into your mouth. "Do you like it?" he asked to which you shyly nodded. "One of my men made it. And I don't think he'll make it again, so you're lucky." "Thank you..." you trailed off, wanting to know his name. "Erwin." "Thank you, Erwin," you said quietly. "If you can move, there's a room for you. I'm going to let you stay here and enlist you as a scout." As you listened to what he was saying, you scoffed the food down. You had a bit of food on the corner of your mouth which Erwin wiped with a tissue as he subconsciously smiled. "What's your name?" "...I don't have one..." You stopped eating and kept your eyes on the plate. "Where's your family?" "I don't know..." The blonde had a slight crease in between his eyebrows before he asked another question. "Do you have a home?" "No." "Well, you can call this place home now," he grinned, trying to get a smile on your face, but it didn't work. "If you have any questions or uncertainties about anything, come to me." You gave a mere nod as he got up to leave, taking the tray from your lap since it appeared as if you weren't that hungry anymore.

No place has felt like a home to you, but this place does, you felt so comfortable. After a while of staring into space, a knock on the door snapped you out of your trance. A man you recognised came in, but you couldn't remember where you've seen him. "How are you feeling?" Silence. "So, you're just going to ignore the person that rescued you from death?" His tone had a bite to it, however, you seemed unfazed by his sharp character. That's where you saw him; he was the one who picked you up and brought you here before you would slowly die away. His grey orbs before were pooled with concern then, but now, they hold no emotion whatsoever. He took slow steps towards your bed. "Thank you for saving me. I'm in your debt." "Tch. I didn't save you so I could have something in return." He crossed his arms. "Anyway, Erwin asked me to take you to your room." Slowly getting up, you noticed that you weren't feeling weak anymore and you were able to stand properly without feeling dizzy. Your bare feet padded against the floor, following the raven whose name you have yet to learn. Catching up to him, you walked beside him as you fiddled with your fingers. "Why are you nervous?" he suddenly questioned. You slightly shrugged as a small blush crawled onto your cheeks. "You aren't much of a talker, are you? Well, that's a good thing because I don't want another brat giving me a headache." Brat? He's being harsh with the person he saved and someone he barely knows, and he thinks he can call you a brat? Whatever, it's not like you're going to stand up for yourself. And it’s not the worst treatment that you’ve been given. "When we get to your room, have a shower. You smell like sh*t." You understand that you would stink and you aren't in the cleanest state, but does he have to be so critical? Upon reaching your room, he fished a key out of his pocket to unlock the door, allowing you to step inside as he passed you the key, which you took from his hand, your fingers skimming his which he clicked his tongue to. "Be ready in eight minutes. I'm taking you to Erwin's office." And with that, he left. Why was he so specific about the time? ~/~ "Do you have any experience with fighting?" You shook your head meekly as you sat on a chair on the other side of Erwin's desk, fidgeting with your hands which were slightly damp with sweat. You've never seen these people until two days ago, or even an hour ago, so you were afraid of these new people. Can you trust them? "What were you doing before you stumbled across this place?" "I-I was homeless. I w-would eat the leftovers of what people threw out and people b-beat me up for no reason. I wasn't able to make any friends and I n-never knew my family. I d-d-don't even know my name." Erwin stood up with an expression of sympathy and went towards you, crouching by your chair and whispered, "You don't need to be frightened here. None of us will beat you up and you will have your own room. You won't need to eat leftovers. Don't worry. You're safe here." Not able to hold back anymore, he hugged you, leaving you and the other male in the room in surprise. "And I'll give you a name." After being in thought, he spoke, "... How about (Y/N)? Do you like it?" "Yes," you replied, almost as if you mouthed the word. "(Y/N) it is. And I don't know if you already know or not, but this is Levi. You can trust us if you don't trust anyone else." He stood back up. You nodded, getting up to leave. "And whenever you're ready to start training, let me know." "Can I start tomorrow?" "... Sure. But don't you think it's a bit too soon. You just recovered from a severe illness." "It's fine." "If that's what you want." You left his office, gently closing the door behind you as you made your way back to your room. "Erwin?" Levi uttered. "Yes?" "Why are you being so gentle with that girl? This isn't a f*cking fairytale where she gets pampered by you. This is a military base, Erwin. She's a freeloader with you treating her like that. No one here takes it easy." "That's enough, Levi. I'm not going to let her take it easy, all my soldiers are treated the same way." "Explain the way you hugged her then." "I was simply comforting her. And I don't why you're complaining, you're the one who brought her here." "It was just so she could be brought back to health. I didn't think you would enlist her as a scout. She has no experience with fighting. What potential does she have?" "A lot. You are dismissed, Levi." Levi clicked his tongue and exited the office. He didn't want another brat to look out for. He just hoped that Erwin would be in command of you instead of him. You better not cause any trouble for him. ~/~ You thrust your fist forward, attempting to punch Erwin but you never liked hurting people so it was a light blow. He let out a light chuckle, shaking his head. "(Y/N), don't be scared to punch me. This is part of your training." You went into an awkward fighting stance which he fixed for you, telling you what to do. You got ready to punch him again and this time, it was stronger but he could tell you weren't putting all your strength into it. "Again." You took a moment to fix your posture before throwing a surprise punch to his stomach. But unfortunately, he saw it coming and made a cross with his arms, nearly stumbling back but he kept his balance. You lifted your leg, kicking it into his side where he wasn't able to block it. He smirked, seeing how you were able to get a hit on him. "Okay. I'm going to attack you and you need to defend yourself now." You nodded, getting ready for any attacks that would be coming your way. He threw his fist at your jaw, knocking your head back. Straight after, he punched you a couple of times at your stomach, causing you to cough up some spit as you bent down, too weak to stand. "Get up." You got up unsteadily, complying to his order. "Defend yourself." For another hour, you trained with Erwin until you were too exhausted to carry on. By the time you stopped, the sun was setting as a wind blew over you, cooling you down after your training. Your skin was drenched in sweat and stained by mud and dirt which you were going to go wash off. "Same time tomorrow." "Okay." You reached your room, stripping your clothes off your body and stepping into the raining water, steam dispersing from the shower. You scrubbed all the grime from your body and washed out the sweat in your hair before grabbing a towel to dry all the water that remained on your flesh before slipping on a fresh uniform.

After, you went to the mess hall for dinner, getting some food and sitting down on an empty table, silently eating your meal, desiring the food that was specially made for you a few days ago. "Why don't you sit with the others?" You looked up, seeing Erwin holding a plate and a smile on his face. You faced the table again, shaking your head. The blonde sighed and sat down opposite you, joining you for dinner.

Levi looked over at you two, thinking, Why is she so special to Eyebrows? He's acting as if he's her dad or some sh*t like that. Erwin tried to get you to speak but you would only say a few words since you were shy and there wasn't really anything you could talk about - he basically already knows everything about you for your life feels like it didn't even start until you came here.

Apart from Erwin, Levi, and someone else called Hanji, you haven’t spoken to anyone else. She's a bit too energetic for your taste, but she has a friendly nature. And even though you speak to them, it's only a few words like 'yes', 'okay', 'thank you'. You don't speak to them as they would speak to each other. You try to avoid interacting with anyone but Erwin always seems to get you to talk, even if it's one word. ~/~ Pinning Erwin’s arms over his head, you straddled his legs, breathing heavily as you wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. He smiled, glad to see that you have improved significantly over the past month. You were one of the best scouts he's seen develop and you could maybe even be one of the best scouts in the regiment after you train some more. Now, he can show Levi the potential he saw in you. "Well done, (Y/N)." "Is this what you call training?" a voice inquired to which you looked up to. Blushing, you abruptly got off of Erwin, allowing him to stand up as he dusted off his clothes. You gazed at the ground as the blonde cleared his throat, facing Levi who had his arms crossed over his chest. "I never knew you were the submissive type, Eyebrows." "We were training and I can tell you that (Y/N) is better than you think." "Better at what exactly?" He arched an eyebrow. "Fighting. Stop thinking like that." "Whatever." The raven walked away with the roll of his eyes. "Have a shower and go to the mess hall." "Okay." "And you're training with me is over. I'm going to put you in a squad." You were just getting comfortable with Erwin and now, you're going to have to join a squad of new people you've never even spoken to. Oh, well, it's better than living on the streets. You gave him a nod and strolled back to your room, getting stopped by two young boys, whose names were Eren and Jean. "You've been here for nearly a month weeks, but you haven't spoken to me or anyone else." "Jean, leave her alone." "Why's she so quiet?" "It's a miracle she is," a monotone voice stated from behind you, and you knew who it was. "Both of you, go. Let her go to her room because she needs a shower." Again, he came with the usual criticism. At least, it got those boys to leave you alone as you carried on your journey to your room. ~/~ Over the year, you have become one of the best scouts, joining Levi's squad who had no objection because you still don't talk much and you won't give him a headache like the others. And maybe there's another reason... "Oh, come on, (Y/N)! Take it easy on me!" Eren complained after you had knocked him to the ground with two punches and a kick. You shook your head, putting your jacket on, which you took off to spar with Eren who thought he could beat you after he made a bet with Jean. You went off into the building, getting stopped as soon as you entered. "Cadet Smith," Levi, who was watching you spar, called. (A/N: btw I chose Smith since Erwin took you in as his daughter and you never had a surname before). You turned around and shyly saluted, avoiding eye contact. It could be true that you may have developed feelings for the Corporal over time. He might have been cruel to you at the start, but then he started to be nice to you, well, it's his version of being nice and you think he's only kind to you because Erwin told him to. "I told you that you don't need to salute. Put your arm down." You let your arm hang by your side, still standing there timidly as you could feel his gaze burn into you. When you felt an arm rest around your shoulders, you averted your eyes from the floor, soon realising who it was, relaxing your tensed shoulders. "Is Levi being rude to you again?" Erwin asked. "I was never rude to her," Levi scowled. "You always seemed to frown whenever she was around." "Tch. Why are you here?" "I need to speak to (Y/N)." "I was going to talk to her." "You can in five minutes." Levi clicked his tongue with a roll of his eyes. Why did Erwin have to ruin the opportunity for him to talk to you? All Levi wants to do is hear you say full sentences, see a smile on your face and make you happy because frankly, you aren't/don't do anything of those things and you deserve to be happy, in Levi's opinion. But that blonde man comes in and lets the chance for that to happen slip. Yeah, Erwin may be trying to get you positive as well, but Levi wants to do that before anyone else does. Somehow, it makes him upset to see you gloomy and he wants to fix that. "I'll talk to Erwin first," you softly spoke. Damn, he just wants to hear more of that delicate voice you own. "You like him, don't you?" the Commander whispered once you were out of hearing distance of Levi. "What?" "You like Levi." "W-w-why would I?" "I don't know. I'm not the one who likes him." He ruffled your hair with a smile. "You can tell me anything, I'll keep it between us. "... Yes, I do," you admitted. "Okay. You can go to him now." With a pink hue stained on your face, you made your way to Levi’s office, accidentally stepping sinde without knocking. But he didn't seem to mind when he saw it was you. "Bring me tea," was the only thing he said before dismissing you. You merely nodded, heading for the kitchen as Levi continued with the paperwork. You boiled the water and reached for a mug before pouring it inside the porcelain that had a teabag. You stirred it and let the flavours of the tea infuse the water before picking it up from the surface and went towards his office, meekly knocking on the wooden door. Upon hearing a 'come in', you opened the door and stepped in, closing the door behind you. You placed the cup on his desk, where there was a space free, and stood there silently. "Why are you just standing there? Sit down." Hesitantly, you sat down in the chair opposite him as he took a sip of the tea and you noticed the slight surprise on his visage. "This tea is really good." "Thank you." You blushed and looked down at your hands. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small jar. He took the lid off, showing some cookies that looked appealing to you. "Help yourself. I made them." You were confused; why was he complimenting you? Why was he giving you his homemade cookies? Why was he making small talk which he hates so much? Why is he being so casual? What did he want to talk to you about? What's going on? "Sir?" "Levi," he corrected you. "I already told you that you don't have to address me formally when you're speaking to me alone." "Why are you doing this?" "Tch. Just appreciate that I'm treating you like this." "But why are you?" "..." Silence settled in the room. You didn't want to ask him any more questions since it may infuriate him and he'll probably kick you out, which you don't want to happen. He continued with his work, acting as if he was ignoring your presence. Tch. Why can't I just say it? It's not like she's one of those people who will shun me out of their life. Why do I hesitate? Do I fear rejection? No, of course not. What is it? I just want to see her smile. See a smile enhance her beauty. See her happy. But how the hell is that possible in this world? "(Y/N)Ilikeyou," he confessed quickly and quietly, making it difficult for you to apprehend what he said. "Sorry?" "Damn it! I like--!" "Shorty!!!" His door slammed open. "What the f*ck do you want?" "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your date," the brunette grinned as he rolled his eyes. "It isn't a date," he growled. "What do you want?" "I have some more paperwork for you." This is what you barged in here for, you idiot? "Okay. Get out." "Have fun~!" she creepily smirked and closed the door, leaving you two alone again. "You were saying something...?" you inquired. Levi huffed, running a hand through his charcoal locks. "I've been wanting to tell you that I like you," he muttered. Did you hear him right? "Pardon?" "You heard what I f*cking said." "You... like me?" "Tch. Just get out if you have nothing to say." He never even glanced at you. "... I like you, too," you barely murmured. Slightly surprised, his orbs immediately shot to meet yours. He stood up and tipped your head up with his fingers, placing a kiss on your lips, causing you to become a blushing mess. You could taste the tea he previously had and you had to admit, it did taste pretty good. Levi pulled away and gave you the first smile you've seen. "Can you please smile for me?" he whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb on your skin. Your eyes fluttered away from his steel ones, now pooling with affection and warmth. He tilted your head so you could look at him again. "A woman like you shouldn't be so downhearted." He pressed his lips against yours again for a more passionate kiss. You lidded your eyes, moulding your lips with his as you felt a smile tug at your lips. Once your lips tore away from his, you were still smiling with gleaming orbs gazing up at him. "Thank you." He leaned his forehead against yours, feeling content to see a smile grace your beautiful features.

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk #aot imagines #snk imagines #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #x reader #reader insert #someone has daddy issues #deffo not me aha #erwin smith

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imnotusedtobeingloved · 4 years ago

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DESTINY IS A FUNNY THING

Warnings: Blood/Gore. Wounds.

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!fem!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Uncle Iroh, Jet, Avatar Aang (mentioned)

Requested: No.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: You’re trying to find some food for the Team, when you encounter a furious Freedom Fighter.

It was a quiet evening as you strolled through the streets of Ba Sing Se.

You'd joined Team Avatar only a few weeks ago, doing your best to integrate yourself into their group. Which, other than helping the Avatar, also meant cooking, cleaning and finding food. You were tasked with the latter. The gaang hadn't been able to visit the market earlier, due to searching for someone who could produce posters, hoping to get any tips on the whereabouts of Appa. So now, with the money Toph had collected on her hunts, you were searching for something to fill your stomachs. You hadn't eaten all day.

Most shops were already closed by this time The only house that still had the lights on in this part of town, seemed to be a small restaurant. You tried to read the menu that was hung up next to the entrance, but the paper was so crinkled and the letters so washed out that you couldn't quite decipher what it said. You sighed. Some light would be really useful right now. There was only one solution.

You looked around warily, checking the streets five times, before you produced a tiny flame in your palm, reading over every offer as quick as possible. The fire disappeared when you were through. Unsure you counted the money in your pocket, biting your bottom lip. The prices were pretty high. Almost too high. You'd have nearly nothing left if you purchased your food here. You mulled over it for a few minutes, not realizing that someone had stepped up behind you.

"What do we have here?" You jumped, turning around quickly and coming face to face with a broad chest. Looking up, black eyes stared back at you. The boys face was narrow, framed by a mop of brown hair, and a blade of wheat grass hanged out of his mouth. "What do you want from me?" You asked, stepping back, until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. "You're one of them," he said, wielding a hooked sword in both of his hands. "You're one of those fire benders!" He lashed out, the hook grazing your skin as you tried to roll out of their range. "Ugh!" You groaned at the sight of a nasty slash in your shoulder. Yes, you were from the Fire Nation, and yes, you were able to bend fire, but you had never experienced that much training in combat. You knew how to defend yourself properly, yet you didn't succumb to the illusion that you were an exceptionally good fighter. You really just tried not to get your face cut off. And to your despair, this young man seemed to be especially good at what he was doing.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" You said, trying to talk your way out of it. He chuckled. "Nice try. But I saw you use your powers," he answered with a growl, hunting you mercilessly. So you did the only thing you could to survive. Run. You had no weapons, but yourself. And you couldn't use your fire once again. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest as your lungs started to burn. He didn't slow down even when you made it to a more crowded part of town, pushing people out of his way to get to you, and screaming at them to hold you off. You tried to get as many obstacles as possible between you and him. But his legs were longer than yours, making it easy to catch up with you. A small tea shop ahead of you caught your eye, seeming lively inside.

You'd almost reached the door.

Almost made it.

Then you felt the tips of two sharp hooks slash trough your back, ripping the skin. A toe curling scream left your mouth. Dizzy, you stumbled out of reach again as best as you could. All eyes were on you, when you tumbled trough the door of the shop. "I'm sorry," you mumbled, dots clouding your sight. "I didn't know where else to go," Your knees gave out, blood slowly trickling out of your wounds. "They're fire benders!" Was the last thing that distantly reached your ears, together with the picture of an old man, leaning over you with a worried expression on his face. Then you were gone.

The next time you came anywhere near to conciousness again, you felt sick. You were lying on your stomach. Soft blankets and pillows were tucked under your body. And when you tried to move, you registered the texture of bandages on your shoulder and back. "Careful now," a soothing voice scolded softly. "Wouldn't want those wounds to open up again," A groan left your mouth when you finally managed to open your eyes. Once again, the face of an old man greeted you. The same old man. "Who are you?" you mumbled. "And where am I?" The man smiled, his friendly eyes glimmering in the sunlight. "My name is Mushi," he placed a small cup of tea next to you. "You're in our home. We brought you here after you collapsed in the tea shop, remember?" You nodded. Right. You remembered bits and pieces briefly, but you couldn't piece them all together. And then he came to mind. "Wha- what's with that guy, who-" "Don't worry about it," Mushi interrupted. "My nephew, Lee, took care of him. He's behind bars for now," You hummed, settling down a bit. It didn't take long before the others popped up in your mind.

You wondered if they were worried. If they cared. But you had to get back to them either way. "I have to get back to my..." you searched for the right word. "Family. I bet they're worried because I didn't come back last night," Mushi nodded, running a hand through his beard. "I understand," he stood up from your bedside, preparing another teapot as you sipped on your cup. It had just the right temperature and the rich jasmine flavor invaded your mouth. You smiled. "My favorite...," It was true. It really was your favorite. It reminded you of your home. Of quiet mornings spend with your grown ups, laughing at each others jokes. But those days were over. The war had claimed it all.

Mushi's light chuckle disturbed your thoughts. "It's my nephew's favorite as well," You hummed, staring down at the cup. “You know, you never told me your name,” He said, looking at you over his shoulder. “It’s (Y/N),” you stated, taking another sip and moving to sit up. “Thank you for taking care of me, Mushi. But i need to leave no- aargh!” You groaned loudly falling back onto your stomach. “Careful!” The door to your right opened. “What’s going on here?” A young man entered the room. He wore the simple clothes of a commoner, an apron loosely hanging from his arm. This must be Lee, you thought trying to stay still as the pain subsided. When you looked up at him, the first thing you were greeted by was the large burn around his eye, like flames woven into his skin. You flinched under his gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder if the scar had been from an encounter with a fire bender. Your Nation truly left it’s marks everywhere. “She’s still to weak to get up,” Mushi answered him, walking over to you. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here a little longer,” You sighed. This was a disaster.

You had to admit, this was definetely not how you had imagined your life to go, after joining the Avatar. You weren’t even around him for the next two weeks. The slash on your shoulder healed just fine and it didn’t bother you as much. Though your back was an entirely different story. You had to heavily rely on Mushi and Lee when it came to the wound. Bandaging or applying lotion to it was impossible without having someone to help. In the beginning Mushi was the one who primarily cared for you. Lee, on the other hand, didn’t bother to come near you. And why would he? You were just some strange girl that tumbled into a tea shop, covered in blood. The few times he did come in to get himself some tea, were spend in uncomfortable silence. At least on your behalf. Maybe he didn’t even care. Days went by without him even glancing at you, but one time he did. He directly stared at you to be more specific. “So, was he right?” he said, leaning against the counter behind him. “What?” you blurted out, confused that he bothered to speak with you. “The boy. Was he right? Are you a fire bender?” You swallowed heavily, lowering your gaze to his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous,” the lie didn’t leave your lips as smoothly as you hoped it would. “Of course not,” He narrowed his eyes. They're fire benders!, you faintly remembered the boy’s scream before you passed out. “What about you?” you retorted in the same demeanor. “Are you a fire bender?” Lee scoffed, reaching for two cups and filling them to the brim. “Of course not,” he imitated you, before handing you one of them. “Thank you,” you grinned, getting less tense around him. It earned you a short nod. That was the first time you two shared a real interaction.

The second time was more out of nessisity. Mushi was out at work for days, often taking no breaks, too caught up in his newest business. The Jasmine Dragon. Which left you at Lee’s mercy in the bandaging department. Luckily you were fit enough to sit up by now, crossing your legs, almost pain-free. Where silence was first unpleasant, it now had become a peaceful ritual for the both of you. Lee applied the lotion to your back, before you both worked to secure the bandage. You weren’t sure if he would talk to you, but you had a question burning in the back of your throat. “Lee?” He was clearly concentrated on the bandage, but you got some kind of acknowledgement. “Hm?” You nibbled on your bottom lip, unsure of how to phrase the words. “Have you ever felt... alone?” You’d joined Team Avatar, and yet you never felt more alone than before. “Like... not lonely but just-” “Yes,” he interfered and a few moments of silence passed. “I have. Sometimes i still do,” You played with your fingers in your lap, feeling him making a knot into the material to keep it together. “You know, i thought things would change,” you confessed. “I thought i’d found the right place. The right people. But now i realize that maybe i was wrong. Maybe it was all just a big mistake and i made the wrong choice once again,” you trailed off. “Does that make sense?” The question must’ve been written all over your face when you turned around. To your surprise he didn’t show the indifferent expression he wore around you all day. Now there was something more. Something softer. Sweeter. “It does, believe me. I know that feeling better than anyone,” His amber eyes seemed far away, lost somewhere between memories and dreams. Despite the nasty scar on his face, he was striking in his own way. Maybe particularily because of this scar. It showed his true spirit. Perhaps he was more of a fighter than he led on.

Over the following days, your healing made a promising progress. And so did your relationship with Lee. You’d never thought you’d feel affection for the boy, but here you were, sitting next to each other and sharing a platter of food. He hid an amazing sense of humor behind his shell and a gentle heart was buried under his armour. Another thing that had caught your attention was that Mushi seemed to leave for urgend business at the strangest of times, continuously leaving you by yourselves. But you choose not to think to much about it.

“You’ll get a stomach ache if you continue stuffing your mouth like that,” Right. What was it you found attractive about him again? “Shut up,” you laughed, pointing to his side of the plate. He had gobbled that dish up just as much as you did. ‘Guilty’ was written all over his forehead.

You focused your attention on the food, but looked back up when he was staring at you. You were surprised that he didn’t have a comeback. That was rare.

“Is everything okay? I’m sorry if that was-”

“Can i kiss you?” your eyes widened. “What?” your mouth was, once again, faster than your brain. Unfazed, Lee leaned in, waiting for you to do the same. Your lips met in the middle. Gently. Only brushing each other slightly, like a summer-breeze. He tasted bittersweet.

A few seconds passed until he placed his hands on your cheeks, carefully guiding the movements. He felt warm and safe. Like the pleasure of a close flame in the bitter cold. After a while, you reluctantly pulled apart, needing a few seconds to open your eyes. And when you did, you were filled with joy. Joy and regret. Your smile died on your lips as you remembered who you really where. “What’s wrong?” he said, pulling you into his side.

“I have to tell you something,” you started, furrowing your brows. You had to. Even at the risk that he would hate you afterwards. In time he had confided in you with some of his past, making you aware about his mark. He’d gotten it from a fire bender, just like you’d suspected. And it made you feel like a horrible person. So you took a deep breath. “I lied to you, Lee. I am a fire bender. I fled the Fire Nation because i wanted to start a new life,” You searched his face for a reaction, but it was empty. Just like it had been in the beginning. You held your breath when he finally opened his mouth to say something.

“I guess... i should tell you that i’m-” His Uncle burst into the room. “I have amazing news, everyone!” he exclaimed, a big smile gracing his face. “ We’ve been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!” Lee and you pulled apart, the atmosphere tense, but you both put on a grin for Mushi. “That’s amazing news, Uncle,”

And it was. You accompanied them the next day, knowing it would probably be the last you’d spend together. Your wounds were healed enough to walk again and didn’t affect your movements anymore. Which meant you would leave to go back to your family. Or... more like your companions. But honestly, you didn’t even know if you could call them that. You hadn’t been part of their group for long before you disappeared and you hadn’t heard from each other since.

Not to mention that, deep in your heart you knew, you didn’t really want to leave. The burden hung heavy over your head, but you choose to make this last day worth it. And if it was just to see a smile on Mushi’s face. “Many times i imagined myself here. At the threshold of the palace,” the man stated, as you climbed out of your carriage. “We are the Earth King’s personal guests, here to serve him tea. Destiny is a funny thing,” he rambled on, but you and Lee gladly listened. “It sure is, Uncle,” The atmosphere between the two of you remained awkward after you’d revealed your secret, but he didn’t seem to be averse. He still talked to you. The problem was that he wanted to talk about anything but your confession. Any time you came close to bringing it up, he bailed. And you wanted to know why.

It took a while until you reached the room where the Earth King would welcome you. Or rather, welcome them. You choose to stay outside. “Don’t be ridiculous, (Y/N),” Mushi had said. “Of course you’re coming with us,” But you had declined with a shake of your head. “It’s your tea shop. You and Lee did all the work. You deserve to share this moment together,” He seemed to want to argue against your choice, but eventually he accepted it. “Very well,” You watched as he disappeared into the room, behind his nephew.

The guards led you through the empty halls, supposed to bring you to a waiting room. But you’d never reach it. You grunted, as you got hid on the back of your head, the impact sending you to the ground, as your vision blurred... and faded.

thanks for reading! find part 2 here!

#zuko x reader #avatar zuko #zuko x you #prince zuko

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only-lurkin-dont-mind-me · 3 years ago

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The Path of Loyalty is Paved in Blood

While I enjoy reading Mostly fluff pieces, it seems as though whenever I write it always ends up... a little angsty (mostly with a happy end though, I’m not heartless)

@chiliiscereal

TW: Blood. Injury. Character death(s)

The night had been cold when you first met them, you remembered it well. You were still so young, so were they. You had been wandering the empty park in the later hours of the night, wandering aimlessly until you heard other children's laughter. Short stubby legs racing to find where the noises were coming from, the chattering grew louder as you made your way to a single basketball court.

As you looked past the shrubbery dotting the edges of the court, you saw them, four brothers smiling and laughing in delight as they passed the ball around in what seemed to be a game of catch. You were too young to even think of how they looked different from you. Instead, you stood in place, wondering if you could join in their game.

When the smallest of the group lost his aim and ended up throwing the ball into the same bushes that hid you, you took it as your cue.

"Mikey!" one of them laughed gleefully, "I'm over here; you gotta throw it to me!"

"I'm doing my best Leo, catch better!" the other replied in turn as you grabbed the ball. Slowly you walked to the edge of the chalk outlined court, ball in hand, looking around nervously. You could hear them walking towards you. You only looked up when the biggest of the group spoke to you with a cheerful tone as you bounced the ball towards him.

"Nice find, I thought we lost it that time." Despite being the largest out of his brothers, he was smaller than you with a big grin. You couldn't help but smile back; yeah, they seemed like fun.

Taking another step forward, you finally found your voice, "Can I play too?" You asked with a bright smile, one that was matched by the kid that had two red stripes by his eyes.

He was quick to move to your side and grab your arm, pulling you along while exclaiming loudly, "New friend's on my team!"

"What?!"

"No fair!"

"NO TAKE-BACKS!"

The darkened smoke-filled skies hid the sun from sight. You watched your heavy breaths rise into a cold mist, glowering at the looming threat that towered over you. You thought of that moment, of each and every moment you had cherished with this found family of yours.

The common tradition that came with sleeping over in the lair, you and Mikey would go straight to the kitchen, baking tools in your grasp as you both set about designing something that would be amazing. The music had been loud as you both danced around each other, tossing stencils back and forth, drawing out ideas for cake designs. Taking turns kicking the others out each time one of the brothers tried to infiltrate and sneak off with the tasty decorative pieces. "You know-" Mikey had spoken in an easy tone as you both worked on the final touches of the nights' creation. "-it really is fun getting to do this stuff with you, you're my favorite crafting buddy!" He would say while throwing an arm around your shoulders, beaming smile and all.

As the cold air of the storm seeped around you, fighting off the burning heat from the creature, you snarled at the beast above you, fist clenched, widening your stance, placing yourself directly between it and your family that lay in a bloodied and far too silent heap just behind you.

Another late night with Donnie, hiding out in the lab trying to be as quiet as possible while watching old horror movies. You could never be scared of them whenever watching them with the purple-clad turtle. "See? See?! right there, it's a big ass wire holding the doll up can you believe it!" You had jumped on him, covering his mouth to stop the roaring laughter from waking up everyone else in the lair. In the same fashion, he had covered your mouth to help you bite back the same laughter. shoving your hands away to keep his commentary up, "The blood looks like it's just water mixed with ketchup!" He had wheezed out. Throwing popcorn and chips at each other to try and silence each other in the strangest attempted stealthy food fight as the ridiculous horror movie played on.

You could feel the ache in your bones as the rain and ash pelted your skin, your muscles wanting nothing more than to give out. You knew that the only thing keeping you going was adrenalin and a deep-rooted instinct to guard and stand by your family. As the blood dripped from your wounds down your person into a puddle on the ground, you planted yourself in place. Standing firm and unyielding.

Evenings with Raph, sitting with him on the floor of his room, holding his trembling hands together as he held a paper flower in his palms. 'The Beauty of Origami' laid open on the ground next to you both, Raph had asked you to go over the instructions and make the simple lotus flower first so he could see the steps in person. As he stared at it now it seemed so small and fragile in his larger hands. "You can do this, Raph. Paper is easy, it takes a light touch and that's it. Even if you mess up it's alright. It won't hurt anything if you tear a piece or two, we'll just try again." He finally looked to you, absolute trust in his eyes as he nodded. Gingerly placing your flower down in front of him, Raph took the piece of colorful paper from you, and he began to craft.

You felt every emotion at once rising from within you, faithful love for your family, Warmth from all of the small moments you held close to your heart with them. You could physically feel your spirit rise in a violent force to defend them, this wasn't just a group of brothers. This was yours, your family.

"Hurry up, if you don't get in here already the dynamic duo is going to be a dynamic uno. I will leave you behind if Raph finds you in the kitchen this late!" Leo whisper yelled as he stood halfway through the portal that leads to who knows where. You could only throw the bag of chips at him as you rushed his way, food, and drinks in tote. As a heavy set of footsteps slowly sounded through the hallway you saw Leo's eyes widen, He lunged forward, wrapping an arm around your torso, and pulled you through the portal with a laugh. As the world brightened once again to reveal a quiet cliffside, you could hear the water below. "Come on bestie, help me set everything up." So it would go, snacks, drinks, a blanket to lay on, and an endless sky of start to watch, fake constellations to make up and give stories too.

The beast let out a crashing roar as it stomped the ash-covered ground in front of you. You could feel the force of what felt like many in your words as you bellowed a wordless, hateful cry. You could feel tears rushing down your face now. Still, you remained in place. "This is my family! You will not touch them!" Thunder booming as your voice sounded. The storm only growing as though it was lashing out in your own emotional state.

Your ferocity faltered as you felt a hand reach out to rest against your ankle. You risked a glance behind you, looking down to see that it was Leo, you could see his bloodied mouth trying to move, unable to form the words, and tears falling down his bruised face. his hand shook from the effort of trying to grab hold of you. His eyes were desperate, tired, near lifeless. He wasn't going to tell you to fight, or to run. He was just... Scared. Of existing at this moment alone.

You looked to the beast with a burning, hateful, wrath. You growled towards the creature as you turned your back to it. Instead of fighting fruitlessly with your last breath, you allowed your body to fall to the ground. Hitting your knees as everything you had was finally given out.

You leaned against Raph’s side unable to feel for his normally pounding heartbeat. resting an arm on top of him to hold onto Mikey's limp hand, squeezing lightly, waiting for a responding squeeze that you knew would never come. Stretching your other arm over Leo's back to reach for Donnie, resting a hand on his chest, feeling for his slow heartbeat, only to be met with a cold lack of the familiar rhythm. Finally, you let yourself slump forward onto Leo's upper shell. You pressed the side of your head against his, no longer holding back the anguished broken cries. You felt his arm wrapping around your shoulders desperately as he tried to catch any breath he could. You could hear his crackling breathing slow as his body began to relax.

This was your family, you had found them when you were young. You had grown up with them. Celebrated with them at their best and mourned with them at their worst. You would find a permanent rest with them. You would stay until your final breath gave out and beyond.

You called out their names softly in turn, waiting for any response.

Nothing.

You closed your eyes, knowing that this was where you belonged. Besides your family, till the end. As you allowed your body to finally rest, you held tight where you could. Allowing what final strength you possessed to be poured into a final declaration. "... I love you."

You could hear the fading noise of the beast finally getting closer, you had a feeling though that none of you would feel the burning as its molten fire gathered in its gut, its maw unhinged, the fading light of its flames shines and-

...

"HEY!" Your eyes shot open as you sat upright, greeted by the sight of four smiling brothers, no equipment, no blood or bruising, not a single scar from their lifetimes marred their scales. They seemed, healthy, glowing even in a way you had never seen before.

Leo kneeled next to you, Raph was standing tall with Mikey perched on his shoulders. Donnie standing a few steps behind them, looking outward along the treeline of what seemed to be a meadow, staring towards something that had caught his attention.

"C'mon, Donnie says the river down there has got to lead to a lake or something." Raph gestured to where Donnie was looking.

"Yeah, baby! We're gonna go for a swim, see what we can find out here." Mikey chimed in, hopping from Raph’s shoulders to the ground, snatching up Donnie and pulling him along in his excitement.

"Yes, do try to hurry though, Michel here just might leave us all behind if we take too long!" Donnie shouted back to you as he was dragged along.

Raph could only laugh as he raced to catch up with his younger brothers.

Leo grabbed your arm, pulling you up easily with a relaxed grin. As soon as you were up he began walking in the direction his brothers left in. Once he realized you weren't walking with him, however. He stopped, turning to you with a knowing look. "Hey-" Leo reached out a hand to you. "You coming?"

You stared at him, settling into yourself with a wave of newfound peace, you couldn't feel a single ache or pain, just a light airy happiness surrounding you and your family. You slowly reached out and took Leo's hand, smiling back at him with a shine in your eyes you could only remember having when you had first met a lifetime ago. "Of course I'm coming with you guys, I'm always right with you aren't I?"

Leo nodded with an amused snort. "Course you are, you're always with us, oh and by the way-" Leo pulled you along, walking at a leisurely pace, seeming to settle into this new place just as much as you had. "-We love you too."

#doingnickelodeonsjob #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt #tbh this is like highkey all familial love nothing romantic so yeah #also sorry for the angst I intended to write something sweet but just... *vaguely gesturing* this happened?

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ncitygirls · 4 years ago

Text

better - jeno x gn reader

angst, fluff, high school au, cw: bullying, injury

“i know you think everyone’s against you,” he doesn’t know when talking to you got so hard. he feels a lump form is his throat as you quietly weep, turning quickly away from him. it is then he thinks the lump in his throat has always been there. “i just want you to know you have me.”

“that’s rich,” the hatred in your voice makes him flinch. but what exactly did he expect? “that’s your boy, jen. he’s your friend and you let him treat me like that-”

“haechan isn’t my friend,” he’s always quick on the defence when it comes to his connection to his teammates, but never to you. “we play soccer together, that’s it. we don’t even hang out that much, you know that.”

“my bad, how could i forget you aren’t friends with the guy you always spend time with,” you make the mistake of reaching for your bag when your arm proves it may be more than just bruised. jeno moves to grab it for you, when you quickly hiss, “i don’t need your help.”

“but you’re hurt-”

“so? why do you care all of a sudden?” you push past the pain, snatching your bag. “you didn’t care when he barged into me. you didn’t care when i fell. you didn’t care when you walked straight past me. so tell me why you care now?”

this isn’t going at all like jeno is used to. jeno used to show up to the darkest corner of the library, study with you for an hour and leave. it was a while before jeno began lingering past the end of your sessions, leaving by your side, stopping for dinner, even walking you home. it took a little more time for jeno to meet you in other places. the arcade downtown, the cafe by your old middle school, the skate park uptown.

jeno has always been plagued by his passive disposition. so he always found it way easier to ignore his complicity when you would brush over it, pretending you didn’t see him there watching with cold, unfeeling eyes as his team mate drained you of everything he had grown to admire about you.

a part of jeno knew it couldn’t go on this way forever, he couldn’t let haechan walk all over you as he stood on the sidelines. but as much as it hurt to see you hurting, he didn’t feel it was his place to step in. not for the sake of fear, or embarrassment. well, not in the obvious sense. jeno didn’t care about his reputation, but rather the meaning behind his actions. what would that make you and he?

friends? more than friends?

jeno hasn’t quite decided why he likes the idea of the latter. why he detests the tears he sees swimming in your eyes, but adores the idea of passing his thumb over your stained cheek to wipe them away. why your pain hurts him so deeply. why, with tears in your eyes and his heart in your hands, if you asked him to, he would beat lee donghyuck within an inch of his life. why he can’t just vocalise any of this.

“i don’t think we should hang out anymore,” you whisper on your way out, the words wedged awkwardly between sniffles. your shoulders stiffen when you hear him rise. “i’ve never asked you to choose, and i never would. but i did just want you to care, even a little.”

“i do care, y/n.”

“jeno,” you laugh, tears spilling down your cheeks. “you don’t treat people you care about the way you treat me.” the disappointment in your eyes hurts him more than your words do. because he knows he has failed you. he knows you expect more, that you want more. it just hurts more to see that want, as you peer up at him through wet lashes. “you defend them, protect them. so don’t tell me you care when it’s obvious you don’t.”

“i do,” he tries, rounding on you when you try to leave, almost reaching for your bruised arm when he retracts, hand resting on your hip. “i do, i do. and-and i know, i know i’ve let you down. i know i should’ve stuck up for you and i’m so sorry, y/n.” he swallows around his words, unable to ignore the tremour in your lip. “tell me how to fix it,” he breathes, holding your face in his hand as his arm circles your waist, his body reacting to the threat in your gaze. “just tell me what to do and i’ll do it, i swear.”

“do better,” it’s trapped between sobs, your breath shaking as his touch works to dispel all your fears. “do something, anything,” your eyes flick between his two, unsure what exactly it is you see in them. fear, desire, hunger. “i just want to know i mean something to you.”

jeno has never been too good with words. they have never come easy to him. he has never felt words were enough to convey any emotion he has ever felt. funnily enough, jeno has never been to good with action either. his limbs always seem to lock as his mind implores him to do the right thing, to do better, be better.

and yet, as he stands before you, his fingers digging into your flesh, tugging you toward him, a near breathless, “ok,” falls from his lips before they meet yours. never once has he acted so fearlessly, spoken so thoughtlessly. his body responds to your plea with one of its own. one that begs for forgiveness, for a chance to prove that within this vessel is a heart that beats so proudly for you. a heart that aches in ways only your forgiveness can remedy, for while it had lost its way, it has found its place where he has laid it at your feet.

jeno’s lips move with a fervour you couldn’t place until today. a passion so raw you fear his rapidly beating heart may give as it thrums beneath your palm. jeno slows as you sigh into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his nape, body melting against his boiling frame.

“i’ll do better,” he breathes against your cheek, lips puckering gently as he moves back towards the corner of your smile. “i promise.”

“okay,” you sigh, kissing the smile off his face as you leave. “you better.”

#shitty ending check #nct #nct dream #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno #jeno angst #jeno fluff #nct high school au #nct au #nct dream high school au #nct dream au #ncitygirls

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years ago

Note

Ooh okay I have a song fix request for Cale makar!!! You are in love by Taylor Swift

Okay, so this song is perfect for Cale. I wasn’t sure quite how to write this but then I realized it was kind of a perfect short form format for an ongoing concept I’ve talked about with @makethecupbigger. So I hope you enjoy it and if you have any questions about the full mental story (because I skimmed and skipped a lot of things) feel free to ask. This ended up being 1,868 words including the song lyrics.

__________

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast, you play it back

Buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke

No proof, not much, but you saw enough

Meeting Cale had been a surprise, another twist on the roller coaster of your life. From losing your older sister and becoming a mother to your four-month-old niece to picking up everything and moving across the country to Denver, Colorado, it was too much for a 22-year-old to handle.

That was probably why when you met a beautiful blonde woman at a music class for your now six-month-old little one, you spilled out everything in response to her soft eyes and caring question.

That conversation was how you’d ended up spending a Sunday afternoon watching football in the home of Gabe Landeskog, captain of the Colorado Avalanche. You’d been shocked and slightly embarrassed when he answered the door, greeting you and taking the plate of cookies you’d brought along before ushering you and the tiny bundle in your arms into the house with a warm smile. How had you not placed it before? You weren’t sure but you did your best to not freak out, instead greeting Mel and letting her take your jackets before making your way to the living room where Matt Calvert and his wife Courtney were located.

You’d been cuddling little Emerson when Cale had walked through the door just as the game kicked off having been out in the backyard playing with the Calvert’s boys. You’d felt his eyes on you immediately and you ducked your head into Emerson’s tiny body in response. The feeling of his eyes barely left you for the rest of the afternoon as you cheered at the game and when Emerson crawled across the living room floor and pulled her tiny body onto the young defenseman’s lap his soft voice spoke directly to you for the first time assuring you that she was fine. The sight of him brushing his fingers against the fine coating of dark hair on her head made your heart do things it had never done before and as you moved to leave so you could get Emerson to bed you thanked him softly as he held her while you buttoned your coat. You joked that you appreciated him humoring her because she evidently wasn’t used to the avid sports fan side of you just yet and the way he looked at you spoke so many things you didn’t understand, couldn’t understand for so many reasons.

The light reflects the chain on your neck

He says, "Look up"

And your shoulders brush

No proof, one touch, but you felt enough

It had been a few weeks since that afternoon watching football when Mel had invited you and Emerson to join her and Gabe and Linnea and Matt and Courtney and the kids on a weekend hike. Being in a new city with no one to rely on and an infant that needed constant care was hard and you appreciated Mel’s efforts to make sure that you weren’t completely detached from the outside world.

When you’d met them at the national park, you were surprised to see Cale there but you chalked up his presence to some team bonding thing and just tried to focus on the beautiful warm fall day. Of course, the problem with going on a hike with a bunch of pro athletes and their families was that while normally this hike would be no problem, you weren’t used to doing this kind of thing with a 16-pound baby attached to your chest. Emerson’s presence had thrown your weight off balance a couple of times and though you had thankfully been able to steady yourself, you could feel your stamina weakening as the group stopped by a stream to take a short break.

It had been Mel’s suggestion for you to let Cale carry Emerson for a while. Looking over at the now shirtless defenseman he assured you that he was willing if you wanted before coming over as you unstrapped the baby from your own chest to affix her to Cale’s. Struggling with one of the straps Cale murmured for you to look up and after a moment you were helping to shift Emerson to him, your fingers brushing against his solid muscles accidentally. The touch sent sparks through your body, sparks that were foreign to you. Between the sparks and the way Cale holding Emerson like she was weightless looked you knew you were in trouble, you just didn’t know how much.

You can hear it in the silence (Silence), silence (Silence), you

You can feel it on the way home (Way home), way home (Way home), you

You can see it with the lights out (Lights out), lights out (Lights out)

You are in love, true love

You are in love

When Cale had finally asked you out, you were hesitant. You had baggage, more baggage than Cale could possibly understand, more baggage than it would ever be fair to dump on him. But he persisted, insisting that he didn’t care that you were a mom, that he thought Emerson was adorable and didn’t care if dates with you also meant dates with her. It was only then that you’d learned of and corrected his misconceptions, that Emerson wasn’t biologically your daughter and therefore none of this was that easy.

Cale was patient though, he didn’t push but he kept coming around. He made it his goal to prove to you that you could let him in and that there was nothing that would scare him away. For months you assumed that if he loved anyone it was Emerson because how could you not love her but eventually Cale started tumbling your walls not brick by brick but crumbling them all at once.

Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt, he keeps his word

And for once, you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

One step, not much, but it said enough

Months of casual dates and tiptoeing around things turned more serious with a simple knock on a door. It had been your sister’s birthday, the first since her passing, and you found yourself drowning in waves of grief, unable to keep yourself afloat. Driving aimlessly for a while had led you to Cale’s place and when you knocked on the door, a sleeping baby in your arms he accepted you into his home without question, pulling you close and holding you tight. You told him everything that night and he didn’t run, didn’t pull away. Instead, he only pulled you closer, dressing you in one of his shirts before cuddling close, letting you cry nearly a year’s worth of bottled-up tears.

When you left the next morning you left some of your baggage abandoned, taking with you instead his shirt and a piece of something bigger and better.

You kiss on sidewalks

You fight and you talk

One night, he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says "You're my best friend"

And you knew what it was, he is in love

Bigger and better comes with bumps in the road and on at least one occasion you screamed at him wondering why he was even bothering with someone like you. Yet somehow, you made it through, trying to be there for him the same way he was for you.

When the Avs were eliminated from playoffs you weren’t sure what to do or how Cale would respond so you opted to give him space for the first night. But when he didn’t respond to you the next day you made your way to his place finding him a shell of himself in bed. Crawling in beside him, you and Emerson spent the whole day just taking care of him and loving him and when he woke that night thanking you, you knew that it wasn’t just Emerson he loved, it was you.

You can hear it in the silence (Silence), silence (Silence), you

You can feel it on the way home (Way home), way home (Way home), you

You can see it with the lights out (Lights out), lights out (Lights out)

You are in love, true love

Being loved by Cale and loving him in return was everything you didn’t know was possible. It was waking up in his arms. It was snuggling on the couch. It was watching him with Emerson, being a dad you never thought she’d have. It was the way he defended you to his parents, the way he’d asked you to spend the summer with him in Calgary.

It was seeing your little girl surrounded by rose petals in the yard of your summer rental before turning to find him on one knee promising to love you forever.

And so it goes

You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round

And he keeps a picture of you in his office downtown

And you understand now

Why they lost their minds and fought the wars

And why I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words

You married on a snowy November morning in the woods of the same park where you’d taken your first hike just months after getting engaged. As you stood wrapped in Cale’s arms to ward off the cold, you finally knew that this was it, this is real and true and forever. Later, when you slow danced in the home Cale had purchased for you, the first family photo, one from your wedding just hours earlier, hung on the living room wall, as so many family photos would in the years to come.

'Cause you can hear it in the silence

You can feel it on the way home

You can see it with the lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

When you found out you were expecting your first child together you heard it in his shock and awe.

When you drove home beside your Stanley Cup-winning husband you felt it.

And when you slipped into bed after feeding your newborn daughter you could see it as his eyes glimmered with love.

You can hear it in the silence (Silence), silence (Silence), you

You can feel it on the way home (Way home), way home (Way home), you

You can see it with the lights out (Lights out), lights out (Lights out)

You are in love, true love

You are in love

You can hear it in the silence (Silence), silence (Silence), you

You can feel it on the way home (Way home), way home (Way home), you

You can see it with the lights out (Lights out), lights out (Lights out)

You are in love, true love

You are in love

When you’d met Cale by surprise on a Sunday afternoon, you never knew that it would lead to so many happy years of marriage, six wonderful kids, three Stanley Cups, and so many many joys.

That every day you would hear, feel, and see Cale’s love for you all around. That you would ever know true love.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #cale makar blurb #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #cavalanche #Anonymous

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panda-noosh · 5 years ago

Text

odd one out {draco malfoy x reader}

Words: 11.3k

Summary: You’re known as the only Weasley without magic. Draco Malfoy has always taken great pleasure in teasing you for this, and you have always been ready with a retort. Your bickering with the Malfoy boy has gone on for years, but is it all done in bad blood?

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - i can’t stop writing for Harry Potter and that’s really just what you’re all gonna have to put up with.

---

You don’t want to be here.

You don’t belong here, as you’ve been reminded a grand number of times throughout your seventeen years of living. To these people, you are nothing more than the unlucky one, a mistake. To these people, you are weaker.

The halls of Hogwarts aren’t exactly unfamiliar to you, despite being the only person in your household who never properly attended. You’ve been here many times throughout your life, visiting sick family members, accompanying your parents when they don’t trust you enough to leave you at the Burrow.

It’s your twin brother, Ron, who is in need now.

When you walk into the infirmary, he’s sitting up. Your mother squeals, throwing herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as you and your dad approach in a slow and careful manner, not wanting to startle Ron any more than Molly has already managed.

But even as you walk in and scowl at him, you can’t deny the relief that floods your system; the owl sent by McGonagall hadn’t even been fully read before Molly was slamming it down on the table, gathering her robes and telling you to get ready to leave. You had been busy doing your own school work, tucked away in the room you share with Ron during holidays, but was now barren besides your stuff.

He had been poisoned, according to your father. Nobody knows how, or by what, or by whom - just that Ron had drank something given to him by Professor Slughorn and had immediately started foaming at the mouth.

Now, however, he looks in good enough health that you don’t see it as a problem when you slip your hair tie from your wrist and flick it at him from across the room. He yells, flinching so fast he nearly takes Mum’s head off as she clings onto his neck.

Mum spins, glaring at you. “He’s ill!”

“He’s fine,” you reply, slipping onto the seat next to his bed. “How have you managed to poison yourself, then?”

Ron scowls. “I didn’t poison myself. Someone else did.”

“Who pays enough attention to you to want you dead?”

“Y/N!” Mum hisses. “At least give it a minute before you both start bickering.”

You and Ron roll your identical eyes before Ron sighs, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “None of you should be here. You know that, right? With all the stuff going on with You-Know-Who-”

Dad waves a dismissive hand. “We won’t let something like that keep us from making sure you’re okay.”

You raise your hand. “I personally said I wasn’t prepared to die just for you, but-”

“Y/N!”

But looking down at Ron, you see him smiling; you smile back. You know all too well the kind of boredom he must be feeling right now, all alone in the medical suite with nothing but his thoughts and Madame Pomfrey keeping him company. You remember all those Christmas’s when he would come home and tell you to be quiet when you complained about how lonely the house gets with everyone gone - now he knows how it feels.

Mum and Dad move on, telling Ron about how Bill sends his condolences and how the twins will be popping in soon to see him; you sit back, gazing around the room. Although you can use none of the stuff hung around you - in fact, it would most likely kill you if you tried - you know exactly what each piece of equipment does and how it is used. You reach out and gently twiddle the lid on a jar of unicorn hairs.

The door to the medical suite opens. You glance over your shoulder just as Madame Pomfrey peeks her head through the curtain, a grand smile on her rounded face.

A grand smile that falters as soon as she sees you.

This happens all the time; it’s one of the reasons you don’t like being inside Hogwarts if you can help it. You’re known by name amongst most of the staff, and none of them dislike you nor discriminate against you in any way - but they’re weird around you. They never know what to say, are never certain how much you understand compared to everyone else in your family.

“Molly, Arthur, Y/N!” Madame Pomfrey exclaims. “Minerva told me you’d all arrived a little earlier than expected.”

She shoots you yet another glance, giving you an uncomfortable smile. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you, Y/N. How is the - uh - studying going?”

Muggle studies. She wants to say Muggle studies.

“Good,” you reply, already standing up. “I’m just gonna go to the loo a quick minute. Give you more room to work around Ronald here.”

Ron reaches for your hand. “Don’t leave me with-”

“Get well soon!”

You duck out of the medical suite and into the hallways, immediately pressing your fingertips to your temples; you hate it here, hate it so much, have never felt so out of place than you do right now, and it doesn’t even make sense. You know just as much - if not more - than some of the people in this god damn school. Just because you were never able to perform any of the hocus pocus bullshit they’re able to perform doesn’t mean you don’t know what you’re talking about. You grew up around it. You lived it - still live it.

You sigh and start down the hallways. You aren’t even sure where you’re going - you just know you’re not heading in the direction of the bathrooms. You pass a few people on the way, people who don’t know who you are or what you are, people who see you within the walls of Hogwarts and don’t even consider that you might not have the same abilities as them.

You smile; it might be your last chance to exchange niceties with them before they realise who you are and start avoiding you.

You turn down into another set of corridors, these ones empty as everyone filters into separate classrooms. They look quite spooky when deserted, unnaturally clean with the brick walls encasing you; you run your fingers along them, mind wandering to what it would be like to be within these hallways every single day for ten months out of the year.

A ghost swooshes over your head. You close your eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable-

“The Squib Weasley! The Squib Weasley!”

“Afternoon, Peeves. How are you?”

“All the merrier for seeing you!”

“Oh, yes. You always do enjoy taking the mick out of me.”

He swoops down and bunks your head; it doesn’t hurt too much, considering he’s a ghost, so all you do is glare at him as he kicks off the wall and bounces back up to the ceiling.

“Do a magic trick, Squib! I want to see a magic trick!” The ghost cackles, the bells on his hat jingling. “What about a nice card trick? They’re popular amongst non-wizard folk.” A storm of playing cards suddenly rain down upon you, and Peeves laughs even harder.

This is the kind of treatment you fully expect from Peeves. You look down at the puddle of cards, kicking them as you say, “I’m afraid I’m not that skilled. I can’t do any tricks, I’m afraid.”

“Useless Squib Weasley!” He bonks you on the head again. You growl, jumping up and swiping at his foot, but he merely kicks away from you, laughing even louder. “Useless Squib Weasley! Useless Squib Weasley!”

“Get out of here, you idiotic little corpse!”

Your head snaps round, blood draining from your face at the sound of that voice; you know it all too well, of course, considering it’s coming from a person you would much rather avoid.

Peeves cackles in your face one final time before vaulting down the corridor. His laughter only echoes so far before you and Draco Malfoy are left in complete silence, the only sound being his polished black shoes clicking against the marble floor as he walks towards you.

You look up at the ceiling, squeezing your eyes closed. “Malfoy.”

“Weasley.” He stops. Opening one eye, you can see he’s stopped directly beside you, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his robes, a smirk on his face. “What brings you here? I know it’s not the magic.”

“How did you figure that one out?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Mm.” You look at him. “I was visiting Ron, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business, of course.”

“One thing I never understood about you was how you can have such an attitude with someone like me.”

You raise a brow, pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about. “Someone like you?”

He pulls his wand from his pocket and twirls it, casually, between his fingers. “A wizard.”

He says it like he’s talking to someone who has never heard the word before. He’s smirking like he’s expecting you to gasp and say “Wizard?!” He’s acting like you haven’t heard the exact same comment a thousand times before.

You nod slowly, watching his wand rotate. “Are you gonna try and hex me or something? Pretty cowardly of you, Malfoy, considering I have no way to defend myself.”

His smile fades into his customary scowl; he tucks his wand back into his robes, instead choosing to intertwine his hands behind his back. “You shouldn't be walking the hallways on your own, Weasley. Security measures have been heightened since the Dark Lord came back.”

“So I’ve heard,” you reply. The casual tone to your voice makes Draco’s eye twitch; you take a point for yourself in this silent competition the two of you have going on. “I felt like I was the safest one, considering Voldy-mort isn’t really interested in Squibs, is he?”

“That’s not the point; I can’t just be letting outsiders walk about.”

“I’m not an outsider. Dumbley-dore knows me just-”

“Stop with the stupid names-”

You lean forward, speaking louder just to annoy him. “Albus Dumbley-dore knows me just as well as he knows you. In fact, he probably knows me better considering he’s taught the majority of my family. How many Malfoys has he taught? Two? How many Malfoys has he liked? Zero.”

Draco glares. You smile, enjoying how easy it is to wind him up. He probably approached you thinking you would find his mere presence intimidating; he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Well,” he drawls, straightening up. “I’ll be letting Professor Snape know of your presence, and the attitude you’ve taken with me. I’ll let him handle it.”

“Oh, Snape! Goodness, it’s been a while since I last saw his ugly mug. Let him know my parents and I will be staying in the Hogs Head for a few days if he wants to pop in for a chat.”

Draco growls, turns on his heel and stomps back the way he came; your laughter follows him, uncontrollable. It’s one of the few things you enjoy here at Hogwarts - seeing Draco, winding him up. You will never understand why he continues to approach you every single time you come and visit. He knows nothing he can say will affect you, as you grew up with five older brothers and a younger sister with an attitude - you’ve heard it all a hundred times before.

----

“See, this is so much more fun than Scrabble.”

You scowl, glaring down at the chess board. The moving pieces seem to have something against you. No matter how hard you concentrate, or which direction you direct your little white pieces to go, you never seem to be getting any closer to winning this game.

“Concentrate, Y/N,” Ron urges. He’s been laughing at you for the past hour and a half. “Where does your bishop need to be?”

“If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll be directing my bishop right up your-”

“Y/N Weasley, enough of that!”

You jerk upright, sending the chess pieces scattering. The curtain is pushed open, revealing your mum, dad and Professor Burbage. Mum stands with a scowl on her face whilst Professor Burbage and Dad chat animatedly to one another, barely even registering the people around them.

“Honestly, who taught you to talk like that?” Mum grumbles, bustling over to Ron. She places the back of her hand against his head and scowls. “Your temperature is going up again, sweetie. Have you been drinking the potion Madame Pomfrey gave you?”

“Yes,” Ron grumbles, swatting Mum’s hand away. “It’s just warm in here. She never lets us open the bloody windows, Mum. It’s like I’m in prison!”

But Molly isn’t paying attention; after checking up on Ron, her attention snaps immediately to you. You meet her gaze and raise a questioning brow, freezing in your seat. It’s never good when Molly Weasley has her eyes on you.

“You alright, Mum?” you ask cautiously.

“Professor Burbage wanted to talk to you, dear,” she replies, and your heart instantly dips into your stomach,

Your head snaps round to where Burbage and Arthur are stood; they’ve stopped their animated chatter now, Arthur with one arm around Burbage’s shoulders whilst pointing at you with the other.

“This is Y/N!” Arthur exclaims. “Our little Muggle-expert. Honestly, Charity, I’ve worked in Muggle Artefacts for ten years, but I’ve not learned half as much from them as I have from our Y/N here.”

Your face flushes. “Dad.”

“Oh, don’t be humble, dear!” Molly exclaims, gripping your shoulders. “We were just telling Professor Burbage here all about your little solo trip to London a few months back, how you navigated the trains perfectly - ordered their own food and everything!”

Ron snickers. You slap his arm.

Burbage looks at you. Her eyes look tired, strained, her hairline thin and hair itself even thinner. Her nimble fingers are twisted in front of her, and she says nothing as she continues staring at you.

You glance at Molly, desperate for a bit of help, but Molly isn’t looking back. She continues massaging your shoulders as she says, “Of course, we don’t let any of them out on their own anymore - not with everything going on, but goodness, we were just so proud of Y/N when she came back in one piece. Apparently the train took an hour and a half to get from London to Birmingham! How bizarre is that?”

“Oh, Molly, dear,” Arthur tuts. “How many times have I told you that Muggle transportation isn’t the same as wizard transportation?” He shakes his head, turning to Burbage. “I’ve told her a thousand times, I really-”

Professor Burbage lurches forward and grabs your hand. You gasp, stumbling off your chair as she vigorously shakes it, nearly ripping your arm from its socket. Behind you, Ron has stopped snickering and is instead watching the scene unfold, clearly uncertain about what is actually happening.

“Y/N Weasley,” Burbage says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s an honour to meet you finally. I taught all of your brothers, so I did - all except Ronald, who apparently isn’t interested in Muggle Studies.”

Molly sighs. “We told him-”

“You didn’t tell me anything!” Ron exclaims.

Burbage ignores them both. “I know you’re no Muggle, of course - it would be insulting to say you are - but I did always find Squibs most interesting characters. They’ve got one foot in wizard life, one foot in the Muggle life. It really must be an experience, shifting between two very different worlds.”

“Uh….”

“Go on, Y/N,” Arthur urges. “Tell her about London. Tell her about the. . . the - What was it called? The peasant?”

“The pheasant, Dad. It was a pheasant.”

“Oh!” Burbage cries suddenly, making you flinch back. “I’ve heard of those! Birds, are they not? Quite ugly little things, but very big. Very big for birds…” She trails off, muttering to herself. The entire time, her hand remains firm in your own, refusing to let it go as if in fear of you running away from this seemingly important conversation.

All you want to do is run away.

“Anyway,” Professor Burbage bursts, “I’ve just come in to ask if you’d like to attend my next lesson for a few minutes. I’ve got a N.E.W.T. class coming in and I know for a fact having someone like you involved in their learning would do them a world of good.”

Oh goodness, no.

The answer is immediate. The mere idea of standing up in front of a classroom of wizards to walk them through how you were the one genetic failure in the family is enough to make your stomach turn. You open your mouth to express this, but Arthur jumps forward before you have a chance.

“That would be an honour, Charity. An honour for Y/N and the family!”

Your eyes widen. “Actually-”

“Wonderful!” Burbage exclaims, grabbing your arm again. She wrenches you out of Molly’s grip, already ushering you out of the infirmary, the sound of Ron’s uncertain grumbles following you out. At least your brother can see how uncomfortable this idea makes you, but his chunterings don’t make any difference.

“Professor,” you beg, stumbling after her as she leads you through the crowded hallways. “Professor, I really don’t have anything to say to your N.E.W.T. students or whatever. I’ve been to London on my own once, and it really didn’t go as smooth as my dad is making it out to be. I nearly got mugged, like, four times, and there was this guy with a knife-”

“Here we are!”

You glance over; lining up against the wall is a group of seventeen year olds, all of whom are staring at you in a mix of confusion and amusement. Some of these people know exactly who you are, considering they’re in the same year as Ron, whilst others merely see a very distressed individual dressed in casual robes.

“Good afternoon, class,” Burbage begins, refusing to let you go into her classroom or to let go of your arm. “I hope we’re all well. Please enter, and take your books out.”

The line of students files into the class, and you and Burbage follow close behind. Your heart is racing, eyes flicking back and forth along the students currently scooping textbooks and wands out of their bags, whispering amongst themselves. Burbage’s classroom is decorated with moving pictures of Muggle buses and trains, Muggle supermarkets and schools - all of which you probably know less about than anyone else in this classroom.

Burbage pushes you towards a seat in the corner, kindly telling you to make yourself comfortable. You give her your best smile and sink into the plastic, crossing one knee over the other, resisting the urge to bury your head in your hands. Every eye is on you. Every single one.

You bite your lip and look around, and that’s when you spot him.

Of all people in Hogwarts, you never once would have expected to see Draco Malfoy unpacking a Muggle Studies textbook. The boy from a family of Muggle haters. The boy who spends every waking moment ensuring every non-pure-blood wizard in his vicinity is completely miserable is stood in a Muggle Studies classroom.

“Malfoy?”

His name bursts from your lips before you can stop yourself. You slap a hand across your mouth, turning to Burbage with an apologetic look that she raises her brows at, but refuses to comment on. Instead, she barrels on with the lesson.

You glance back at Malfoy, who is now staring at you with an open mouth; he’s going to laugh at you. Seeing you sat in the corner is going to bring him such amusement. You can already hear the jeers he’s probably going to throw at you as soon as this bell rings, how he’s going to make your life a living hell for the short period of time you’ll be here.

“Okay everyone, now that we’re settled, I’d like to introduce you all to a special guest who has so kindly offered to overlook our lesson today,” Burbage says after her introductions.

“Actually, Professor, I’d rather-”

“This is Y/N Weasley, one of the few Squibs I’ve had the honour of meeting.”

The class goes silent. You bite your lip, ducking your head into your hands before anyone can see the horror that is currently rising to the surface - you want to scream.

“Y/N’s parents were just telling me a few minutes ago that Y/N went into Muggle London - remember our last few lessons on Muggle London? - all on their own! Isn’t that incredible?”

“Terrifying,” Malfoy jeers. “What a hero!”

You grit your teeth - it’s started.

“Exactly what I was thinking, Draco! What an honour it is to be in the presence of such a brave soul.”

You look up through a slit in your fingers, giving Professor Burbage a pleading look, a silent plea for her to just stop, to just get on with whatever lesson she had planned while you sit in the corner and mind your own god damn business.

But she just smiles brightly. “Tell me, Y/N - how did the Muggle’s react to having a Squib walking amongst them?”

You lift your head, purposefully avoiding a glance at Malfoy; even without looking at him, his snickers are unmistakable. “They didn’t know I’m a Squib, Professor. I just looked like a normal person.”

Burbage’s eyes widen. “Really? They couldn’t even tell?”

“But Squibs are so obvious,” someone jeers from the far side of the classroom - looking over, you’re pretty certain you recognise the man as Zacharias Smith, someone Ron has always taken a disliking to, but only because Hermione threatened to go out with him one time. “Could they not feel the uselessness coming off you?”

You scowl. “Have you been paying attention in Muggle Studies at all? Squibs don’t give off a bloody scent, you dumb little-”

“But I thought Muggle’s dress differently to us,” a girl in the front row interjects, raising her hand pointlessly.

“They do, dear,” Burbage replies. “They tend to wear. . . shorter clothes. No robes. Correct, Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“So how were you not recognised as a Squib?”

“I wore Muggle clothes-”

“Your older brother told me Muggle clothes can make a wizards skin burn-”

“Y/N isn’t a wizard, you idiot. They’re a Squib-”

“They’re the same thing!”

“No, Squib’s don’t have magic, wizards do.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Gregg, or I swear-”

“Alright, class, enough!” Burbage exclaims, but it’s too late for that now. Questions are being fired at you from all directions, questions that seem most innocent to the oblivious but which actually cut pretty deep into the thick skin you possess.

The word Squib in itself doesn’t sit right with you - you’ve never identified as a wizard nor a Muggle, but there’s something about that word that just puts a bad taste in your mouth. Maybe it’s the way it’s spoken by others - like an insult, a sneer rather than a simple term. Maybe it’s the implications it holds - here is a person who comes from a family of people who can basically do whatever they want. Here is a person who comes from a family seen as mystical, but they are not the same. They were not blessed in the same way even though all odds were saying they should have been.

You swallow thickly, glancing over at Malfoy for a reason you cannot pinpoint - it’s not like he's a source of comfort. It’s not like he will be any different than the ignorant wizards currently yelling question after question at you. Nonetheless, your eyes find his, and it’s with a jolt that you realise he’s staring right at you with an almost worried expression on his face. A tilt to his head, brows furrowed, lips pursed.

You don’t know why you do it. You mouth the word help in his direction, and immediately he stands.

“Everyone shut up!” he hisses. “Giving me a bloody headache!”

The class fades into silence. Malfoy grunts, sits back down and ushers for Professor Burbage to continue the lesson, which she does with only mild hesitance. It’s clear she now realises that bringing you here today was perhaps not thoroughly thought through, but you don’t make a move to leave. You sit in the corner of the classroom as she goes through the lesson plan, keeping your head ducked in an attempt to ignore the stares.

Once the lesson plan has been explained, Professor Burbage tells the class to get on with their work before she says, “Y/N will be walking around to help anyone who needs it.”

You roll your eyes; will wizards ever get the hint?

You push yourself up from your chair and start your rounds of the classroom, ignoring anyone who actually asks for your assistance. At this point, you just want the lesson to be over so you can head back to the infirmary and play Ron in a game of Scrabble - you’re much better at Scrabble than he is, and winning a few rounds will boost your dignity after those horrific chess games you played earlier.

“Excuse me, can you help me with question-”

“Piss off.”

“That’s not very nice, Weasley.”

You stop dead. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

“I need help with question three - as I just asked.”

You scowl, glancing at him over your shoulder. He’s smirking, twirling his pen between his fingers in a way not unlike how he had twirled his wand only a few hours prior. You take a few steps back and glance down at his work.

“‘What mode of transport should a Muggle use if they want to move a sofa from one place to another?’” you recite. “Oh, come on, Malfoy. You’re not that thick.”

“Just give me the answer.”

“No. You’ll never learn if I just hand it to you.”

He scowls, kicking your shin beneath the table. “Are you alright?”

The sudden subject change nearly gives you whiplash, though it’s not nearly as shocking as the soft note his voice has suddenly undertaken. Your gaze snaps to him, an eyebrow raising. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You asked me for help literally two seconds ago. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

“I’m fine. Just - uh - a little shy when I'm the centre of attention.”

“A Weasley, not liking attention? That’s a first.”

You flick his ear. Malfoy grunts, swats your hand away before saying, “Why did you agree to come here?”

“I didn’t agree to anything.” Before you can think better of it, you tug the stool out from beside Malfoy and sit down, leaning over in an attempt to look like you’re just helping him with his work. “She came into the infirmary with my parents and basically dragged me in here - you know how my dad is with all that Muggle stuff. He wouldn’t let me say no.”

Malfoy snickers, pretending to write something down. “Is it true you wore Muggle clothes?”

“Don’t start….”

He raises a hand in mock surrender, that stupid grin forming on his face. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I heard - what is it? - Adidas? I heard they’re very comfortable-”

“You’re taking the mick out of me,” you hiss, slapping his arm. He bursts into laughter, and the noise seems to startle even him, as he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, face turning bright red.

“I hope it’s just Muggle Studies we’re discussing over there, Draco!” Burbage calls.

Draco scowls, slowly lowering his hand before he glances at you and says, “I hate this bleeding class.”

“Mm, I gathered that. Never took you as the type to be interested in what Muggle’s get up to.”

“I’m not, but it’s an easy N.E.W.T.”

“That’s what they all say.” You nudge his elbow. “Just admit it, Malfoy; you’re interested in Muggle activities.”

“Shut up, Weasley, or I won’t help you out of your next ambush.”

You snicker, pushing away from the table. “There won’t be another ambush. I’m not stepping foot back in this classroom if I can help it.”

“That’s what I said during my O.W.L’s, and now look where I am.”

“See, this is when my Muggle education comes in handy; no need for crappy lessons like this.” You clap him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Malfoy. Have fun learning about vans.” You tap question three on his paper. “V-A-N. You’re welcome.”

----

Hogsmeade is a good place to be for a Squib.

Magic isn’t necessarily expected. You can walk through the streets and nobody will be under any illusion that you’re different. It’s freeing, a rare experience when you spend half your life either not fitting in amongst wizards, or not fitting in amongst Muggles. There is no in between for you.

Today, Arthur and Molly permitted you and Ron some time to go into Hogsmeade together before you and your parents are due to depart to the Burrow again, where you will grudgingly continue your Muggle classes, steeping in your own boredom.

The streets would be considered empty if not for the abundance of Ministry officials littering the area; they stand outside every shop, talking to passers-by, warning them of the danger they are in by simply being outside. Kingsley Shacklebolt - a good friend of yours - gives you and Ron a stern look when you pass him standing outside Olivander’s.

“I thought Molly and Arthur would know better,” he says. “You two should be inside at all times.”

“It’s like the Order wants us to go insane,” Ron mutters when the two of you are walking away from what was undoubtedly about to turn into a proper scolding. “Honestly, what are the chances You-Know-Who is just going to turn up in the middle of Hogsmeade? I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere he doesn’t like the Saturday crowds...”

You and Ron continue to shop for a little while, though none of the stores particularly interest you. You love looking at the architecture and the fancy colours of each shop, but when you can’t really use any of the stuff being sold, the architecture isn’t enough to keep your attention seized.

Nonetheless, you trail after Ron because this may be the last time you are able to see him until Christmas, and you’ll be damned if you let your last few days of company go to waste. The colour is back in his face, that tiny sway to his walk returning now that the poison has officially cleared his system; though you will never admit it to him, the worry you felt sitting at his bedside these past few days has been eating you alive. To see him back on his feet and grinning again is like Christmas come early.

“Oh!” He latches onto your arm, snapping you from your daze. You follow the direction in which he is pointing, throwing your head back to groan into the air when you catch a glimpse of Quality Quidditch Supplies, Ron’s favourite place in the whole of Hogsmeade.

“Oh, come on!” Ron exclaims, dragging your protesting form forward. “Just a little look to see if they’ve got anything new in.”

“Why would they have anything new in?” you hiss, pressing a foot against the door frame in your attempts to make Ron let go of you. “The Quidditch season started months ago! Everyone’s already got everything they-”

“Don’t make me hex you!”

You groan, letting your foot slip to the floor. Ron tugs you into the shop after him, a bright smile on his face as soon as he lays eyes upon the Quidditch sets propped up on the far side of the shop. He scurries off, leaving you to awkwardly pluck at the bits and bobs that - apparently - have something to do with Quidditch. Growing up, you always found the concept of Quidditch to be quite intriguing. Charlie would never let a single family dinner go by without ranting about some team or other, and you were always inclined to listen.

However, you were never able to properly play. The only way you could ever fly a broom was when one of your older brothers would get it off the ground first before placing you upon it - which never really had the same effect, and has left you in many bad states over the years. Your mum put a ban on it when you were seven years old, though that never stopped Charlie Weasley from letting you have a go on his broom every now and then.

You glance over at the broomsticks as the memories pop into your head; they are magnificent looking. It’s with hesitance that you stalk over to them, running your fingers along the bristles at the end, imagining the magic seeping from your fingertips into the broom, watching it lift off the floor purely because you wished it to, because you want it to fly and nobody else.

You don’t even crave an expensive one, not like Harry’s, or Ron’s new one that he got when he was made a Prefect. You just want one - any of them would do, as long as they work, as long as it’s yours.

But that will never be the case.

You bite your lip and look down; this always happens. You’ve been able to push past these feelings of uselessness pretty well during this Hogwarts visit, but they push to the surface now.

“Oi! Weasley!”

You stumble away from the brooms, very nearly knocking over a display case filled with different Quaffles as you do so. Draco laughs, wading towards you with that long-legged stroll of his, and that stupid smile plastered all the way across his face. Him catching you ogling the broomsticks, knowing full well you can’t actually use one, is really the thing that tops off this already quite disastrous trip.

“What are you doing out of the castle?” you ask quickly, struggling to stop the display case from wobbling.

“I’m a Prefect. I can do what I want.”

“And you want to stand here and take the mick out of me, I suppose?”

Draco raises a brow, glancing behind you to where the broomsticks are mounted on the wall by invisible bonds. He looks back down at you, tilts his head and says, “Feeling a bit envious today, Weasley?”

You roll your eyes, hands still messing with the display case. “I really don’t - for the love of - I really don’t have the - Oh, my goodness, can you just use a spell and straighten this bloody thing?”

Draco laughs, but does as you say. With a flick of his wand, the display case stops wobbling and you can safely lower your hands to your sides.

“Thanks,” you grumble. “As I was saying, I really don’t have the time to sit here and listen to you go on about your fancy spells. Mum wants me and Ron back at the castle in about half an hour, so-”

“Oh, plenty of time!” And before you can pull away, Draco has wrapped an arm round your shoulders and is steering you back towards the wall of broomsticks. With his wand outstretched, he points to each one, uttering their names into your ear like a teacher giving a student a tour.

His breath tickles your neck, and you’re not sure why you’re so aware of it. His fingers are cold against the tiny bit of shoulder peaking from your robes, and again, it’s startling how aware of his touch you are.

“Have you ever flown one of these before?” he asks, after telling you what each one is called - this is information you already know, of course, considering you grew up in a household of Quidditch fanatics, but you let him ramble on anyway.

“No,” you reply. “Well, not on my own. My brothers had to get the broom off the ground for me and then I would ride around on it for awhile until the magic wore off and I - uh - landed.”

Draco hums. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Yeah. It is. It’s just stupid, and painful.” You shrug Draco’s arm off your shoulder and spin. “Quite like this conversation. Can I leave yet?”

Draco raises a brow; it’s that facial expression that always gets to you, no matter how many times you’ve seen it. You and Draco have watched each other grow up in tiny little bursts - you came to visit Hogwarts multiple times within the school year, and every single time, you somehow managed to have some sort of run-in with Draco. The two of you have bickered with one another from day one, but this facial expression is one that has always, always made you want to punch him.

“I’ll walk you back to the castle,” he says. He turns on his heel and starts walking before you have a chance to decline his offer. You splutter, frantically scanning the shop for any sign of your twin brother - it’s when you spot him talking to Seamus Finnigan that you groan and decide to give in to your fate. You have to jog to keep up with Malfoy.

“I know the way back,” you say, stumbling over your robes.

“I’m sure you do. That doesn’t mean I can’t accompany you.”

“I really don’t think I should be leaving without telling Ron first…”

“Ronald will handle the journey back perfectly fine on his own.” Malfoy glances back at you. “Plus, I don’t think Ron would like to hear what I have to ask you. It’s probably best we’re on our own.”

You falter, heart skipping. You don’t like the sound of those words, especially coming from someone as unpredictable as Malfoy.

You raise a brow, ignoring the way he smirks as he turns back, giving a passing group of third year girls a nod.

“Don’t look so worried, Weasley. The wand is staying beneath the cloak.”

“It’s not the wand I’m wary of.”

His smirk turns into a grin. “I was going to ask you if you’d fancy a trip to the Quidditch pitches later tonight.”

You stare at the back of his head as if doing so will somehow unravel the joke he’s clearly trying to pull right now. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t correct himself, doesn’t even snicker, though you can’t miss the way in which he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his robes.

“Sorry,” you reply sometime after. “I just. . . Can you repeat that?”

He groans. “It really isn’t a difficult question.” He looks over. “And it’s not a date, either. I just thought you might appreciate a little bit of flying time on the pitches before you leave.”

Is this Draco Malfoy being nice? If you weren’t currently witnessing it first hand, you wouldn’t believe it to be possible. You pick up your pace a tiny bit, just until you’re walking directly beside him when you say, “I can’t fly a broom, and you know that.”

“You just told me your brothers used to help you; I can get it off the ground, and then you take it from there.”

“And you don’t mind me using your broom? You’re not scared I’m going to break it?”

Draco shrugs. “I have more than enough Galleons to pay for a new one, Weasley, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” you mumble. “But I - uh - I guess I could do that. It doesn’t sound too bad.”

Draco glances down at you. “I’ll meet you at the pitches at nine o’clock then.”

“Nine o’clock it is.”

---

You have to tell your parents you’re going to visit Ron.

They’ll never let you leave otherwise, not with Voldemort still breathing. Honestly, you can’t even blame them for the protective pull they’ve put on you, though you also can’t help but notice just how much stronger it is over you than it is for Ron - your twin brother had been in the infirmary after being poisoned only a few days prior, and yet they let him roam about Hogsmeade as much as he wants.

“You know it’s probably Ron they’ll go after before they come after me,” you recall telling them over dinner one night. Your mother hadn’t even looked up from her food, though you saw her jaw twitch with the idea you had just implanted in her head. “He’s the one that’s best mates with Harry.”

“You and Harry are also good friends,” your dad says, pointing his fork at you.

“Right, but not - like - best friends.”

“Y/N, we’re not discussing this over dinner,” Molly had snapped. “You’ll do as we say, and that’s final!”

Now you feel like you have no choice but to lie.

You inform your parents that Ron has asked for your company during his next study session in which he wants you to check over his essay and correct any spelling and punctuation he’s messed up on; a lie, of course, but Ron’s genuine lack of skill when it comes to basic spelling and grammar is an easy enough lie to ride upon. Your parents immediately permit you to leave, kissing you goodbye before sending you off to the castle under the moonlight.

The Quidditch pitches themselves are magnificent when it’s dark.

You’ve never been to a proper Hogwarts Quidditch match; you went to the Quidditch World Cup with your family a few summers ago, but you’ve always wanted to see Ron or Harry play.

Or Malfoy.

The rings stand tall, glittering gold in the darkness. The lights from the commentator’s stand have been kept on, and it’s almost as if night time doesn’t exist. You can see everything perfectly; the audience stands, the rings, the soft grass you are currently walking across to reach the very centre of the field where Draco Malfoy stands, his broom at his side, his robes fitting him perfectly.

He gives you a smile when he sees you. “I thought you’d gotten lost. Navigating around this place without magic can be a real pain.”

“As I’m so often reminded.” You nod to his broom. “A Nimbus 2001. Not bad.”

Draco shrugs, though his smirk is evident. “It’s carried me well.”

“Is that why you’ve never caught the Snitch?”

He scowls at you. “Do you want to fly it or not?”

You slowly reach a hand out, gently brushing your fingertips along the wood. It really is pretty - you can already imagine Ron’s face when you tell him that you somehow managed to have a go on a real Nimbus 2001, something Ron couldn’t even dream of doing.

You lift your gaze. Draco is staring at you, watching the adoration on your face, reminding you that you will forever be unable to do as he does. You flinch your hand away and stuff it in the pocket of your raggedy robes.

“Let’s have a look, then,” you say. “Get on it and show me how it works.”

Draco sets everything up. You watch him closely, recounting the steps you have memorised for no reason at all, steps you are intrigued by but will never use. He gives you one final look before he mounts the broom and takes off.

And he’s just as beautiful as you imagined.

You’ve seen Quidditch matches. You’ve watched players soar through the air for hours on end, watched them swerve between hoops and dodge Bludgers with an efficiency similar to that of a bird. You’ve seen it all, but it’s quite different when you’re watching someone like Malfoy have the sky all to themselves. There’s no dodging, no jerky swerves, no expressions of frustration. It’s just Malfoy and his broom, swerving between nothing, grinning down at you.

His blonde hair flashes silver every time he flies in front of the commentator’s lights. You place a hand on your forehead, blocking out the beams just enough to see him do a loop before he yells out your name and waves.

You laugh, unable to help yourself. Jumping to be seen a bit better, you wave your arms violently back and forth, hoping for no reason at all that Malfoy can see you, that he’s smiling down at you, having fun-

He does a final loop and then crashes to the floor, dirt flying up all around him, splattering his robes and his face, but he’s laughing and smiling as he jogs back to your side.

“Wow,” you say, giving him a round of applause. “That was good, Malfoy.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he replies. “Your turn?”

You nod enthusiastically, watching Draco set the broom up until it is hovering in the air between you.

“The magic bits all done now,” he says. “I’m assuming you know how to work the rest?”

You place your hand on the broom; immediately it deflates, becoming heavy in your hand when it should feel light as air. You frown, dropping it to the floor.

“It stopped working,” you say.

Draco hums in confusion, bends down and picks it up. He tries again, getting the broom to float before he steps back and you have another go. Once again, the broom deflates and crashes to the floor between you.

“Well, that’s bloody annoying,” you grumble. “Walked all the way through Hogsmeade and this is what I get for it?”

Draco picks up the broom again. “Don’t be so dramatic. If you want to have a go, I’ll just get on with you.”

You falter. “What?”

He swings his leg over the broom and motions for you to get on behind him; there’s plenty of room, but the mere idea of soaring through the air upon the same broom as Draco Malfoy is a bit intimidating.

“Listen, mate.” You take a cautious step back. “I know my family can be a bit of a pain when it comes to you, but I never had any issue with you. If you want me dead, you could have just-”

“Oh, for the love of-” Draco surges forward, grabs a handful of your robes and rugs you onto the broom behind him. You yelp, having only seconds to grab onto his waist before he’s kicking off the floor and suddenly you’re in the air.

You bury your head in his spine, groaning against his robes; you were so prepared for this, and yet the abruptness with which he took off has your stomach reeling. The wind pelts your face. The world gets smaller and smaller and smaller below you…

You peek an eye out from Malfoy’s robes, the breath leaving you in an instant. Hogwarts really is a wonderful sight to behold when you’re looking at it from above; the lanterns flicking subtly in the hallways, the shadows of passing students drifting by the window, the smoke billowing from the many chimneys dotting the castles exterior.

“Bloody hell,” is the only way you can articulate your feelings.

Draco laughs, the noise reverberating against your cheek. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s. . . more than nice,” you choke out, finally pulling away from him completely, though you keep your arms wound around his waist. “Is this what you see during every Quidditch match? ‘Cause you clearly don’t see the Snitch all that often.”

Draco jerks the front of the broom. You simply laugh, even as you’re forced to tighten your grip on his waist to stay in the air.

“It’s a little different,” he replies, shooting you a playful glare. “There’s always so much going on in a Quidditch match, it’s difficult to stop and focus on the scenery.”

“That makes sense.”

Draco hums, jerking his broom to go in the opposite direction. “I hope that’s not another dig at my Seeker skills, Weasley.”

“If the shoe fits, Malfoy.”

The broom is directed into an abrupt nosedive.

You screech, pressing your head - yet again - into Malfoy’s spine, as if being unable to see the floor will mean you are not heading directly towards it. The wind whistles loudly in your ears, though not loud enough to cover Malfoy’s cackling laugh as he tugs and suddenly the broom is soaring back into the air.

You pant, lifting your head, darting your eyes left and right. “What the hell, Malfoy?”

“Did that scare you?”

“Of course it did! Why would you do that?”

He glances at you, grinning from ear to ear. He doesn’t even have to say anything - you get the message. He’s always had fun teasing you, and that isn’t going to stop tonight.

You roll your eyes, slapping him on the back. “You’re the absolute worst.”

“So you’ve told me.”

It’s silent after that. The two of you fly circles round the Quidditch pitch until it gets too cold for Malfoy to grip the handle properly. He heads back to the ground, feet skidding against the floor, one hand winding around and gripping your waist to stop the impact from hurting too much.

You stumble off the broom, grin evident on your face. “That was incredible!”

Malfoy lazily picks at the handle, not looking up when he hums in agreement.

Your excitement is palpable, screaming through your system at a million miles per hour. You clap your hands, doing a tiny twirl in the middle of the Quidditch pitch purely because you can, because you’ve just flew, because Charlie is going to be so damn proud of you-

You open your eyes to see Malfoy staring at you.

He’s wearing an expression you have never seen him wear before; dazed, almost, like he doesn’t quite know how to process what he’s feeling or seeing. His lips are slightly parted, hands limp so his broom falls halfway to the floor. His blue eyes stare into your own, and slowly he starts to tilt his head.

Your cheeks heat up, and you quickly look away. “Don’t look at me like that, Malfoy.”

He doesn’t say anything for a number of minutes, and you’re suddenly much too nervous to look up to see why. You can still feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your head, even as you keep your eyes trained on the grass beneath you.

And then suddenly Malfoy takes a step forward. Just a single step, but it’s enough to put you nearly chest to chest with the Slytherin. You can smell the wind clinging to his clothes, the fresh scent of grass and a slight undertone of sweat. You can hear his breathing, suddenly much more shallow than it was before.

You risk a glance upwards, not entirely sure why you’re not moving away from him, making some remark about how weird he is or how badly he annoys you. All words have died on your tongue, and it’s understandable when you look up to see him staring right down at you, not a single flash of humour upon his face.

His hand is on your cheek in seconds; your breath leaves you in one clean swoop, the feel of his palm making your heart jump.

“Your smile is. . . very pretty,” he says, so quietly his words could easily be mistaken for the wind.

“Draco…”

“Come back to the castle with me,” he continues. “I can convince McGonagall to let you stay in the Slytherin common room.”

Your eyes widen. “Wait, really?”

His grin flashes in the dark, sharp and perfect. “If you want to accompany me. If you-”

His words are cut short by Molly Weasley bellowing your name from across the Quidditch field.

You leap away from Malfoy, very nearly falling over your own robes in the process. Malfoy himself looks suddenly flustered, running his ringed hands through his hair and looking away from the blinding lights in an attempt to hide the pink hue of his cheeks.

“Y/N Weasley, do not ignore me!” Molly screeches, and then she is Apparating in front of you and seizing you by the shoulders, shaking you. “ARE. YOU. INSANE?”

“Mum!” you exclaim. “Bloody hell, Mum, calm down!”

“CALM DOWN?” she cries, voice cracking. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! Can you even begin to comprehend the fright your father and I got when we sent an owl up to the school to check how you and Ron were getting on, only to be told that you weren’t even in the Hogwarts castle?”

Guilt falls heavily on your shoulders. “Sorry.”

“Oh, you will be.” Molly grabs your wrist and starts stampeding across the field, muttering things like “early grave… grey hairs….can’t believe” beneath her breath. You, however, don’t even fully register what she is trying to say as you turn and glance at Malfoy, who is standing stock still in the centre of the Quidditch pitch, watching you go with his broom hanging limp at his side.

Molly Apparates back to the Hogs Head, and that’s the last you see of him.

----

“Please tell me it’s a joke.”

You don’t even look up.

“Y/N, please tell me Mum was just pulling my leg.”

“I don’t-”

“Oh, god, you can’t even look at me.” Ron falls into his chair and grabs a hash brown, stuffing it in his mouth. “You were out with Malfoy?”

You wince; the volume with which Ron always insists on speaking has never made sense to you. “Not for very long,” you lie. “And what’s it to you who I hang out with?”

“Good point,” Hermione chirps. “But Malfoy, Y/N? Really? You could do so much better.”

Something burns in your chest, an overwhelming urge to tell the two of them to get their judgemental noses out of your business; however, you know doing such a thing will do nothing to persuade them that nothing is going on between you and Malfoy, so you instead choose to scoop some cereal into your mouth and pretend you hadn’t heard.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Ron continues. “Malfoy’s a Prefect, for crying out loud. What’s he doing sneaking out of the castle in the dark?”

“Clearly he wanted to see Y/N,” Hermione says.

“Well, yeah, but why? Y/N’s a Squib!”

“Thanks, Ron,” you grumble.

Ron groans, nudging your elbow. “You know that’s not what I meant; most people don’t have a problem with you. But Malfoy - he’s a different cup of tea altogether, isn’t he?”

“How so?”

Ron shrugs. “He’s just a close-minded little weasel. Can’t see anyone being anything other than pure blood.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “How many times do I have to remind you, Ron? Y/N is a pure blood - they just haven’t got the magical abilities.”

Ron waves a dismissive hand. “Either way, I’m surprised Draco hasn’t tried humiliating you a thousand times already.”

“Have you ever actually had a real conversation with Draco?” The words are out before you can stop them. Hermione and Ron cautiously glance at you, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, don’t tell me he’s buttered you up,” Ron says. “Not you. I have to bloody live with you!”

“He hasn’t buttered me up,” you shoot back. “I just don’t see why I should completely boycott him just because you lot don’t like him. He’s nice to me.”

Ron scoffs. “He’s nice to me. You know what that sounds like, Y/N? Sounds like you’re fraternising with the enemy; getting cuddly; abandoning the side that put clothes on your back-”

“Oh Ron, honestly!” Hermione hisses, slapping his arm. “Give it a rest; Y/N can like whoever they want.” She nods at you, giving you a small smile. “I’m happy for you.”

You smile back, even though her words do nothing but fluster you; she speaks of you liking Malfoy as if you outright said you liked him, but you never did. To be honest, you don’t even know what your feelings are for Malfoy; after last night, you will admit to feeling something, something that was always lurking beneath the surface but refused to make an appearance because every time it started to rise, Malfoy would say something to Ron, or you, or he would just be ignorant and you couldn’t bring yourself to admit what you were feeling for him.

But last night, things took such a sharp turn. So sharp, in fact, that you haven’t even fully processed what any of it means, or what you’re meant to do now, or how you’re meant to approach the topic with Malfoy the next time you see him.

Breakfast finishes, and it’s nearly time to leave. On any normal day, leaving Hogwarts is the highlight; you can escape the stares and the uncertain questions. Now, however, as you, Ron and Hermione stand up from the table and get ready to go downstairs where you are due to meet your parents, you can’t help but feel a little. . . incomplete, as if you didn’t finish something you set out to do on this brief trip.

Harry catches up to you all as you’re wondering down the staircase. “You lot couldn’t have waited?”

“We’re on a schedule, Potter,” you reply. “Molly and Arthur Weasley cannot be left waiting.”

Harry rolls his eyes, pulling you into a brotherly side hug as you arrive in the main hall; sure enough, Molly and Arthur Weasley are nowhere to be found, and not a single person is surprised.

“Always late,” Ron grumbles. “I just want to get rid of you.”

“Shut up.” You pull Ron into a hug. “Try not to get poisoned again before Christmas, alright? I won’t be able to handle Mum on my own if Percy doesn’t show up again.”

“It’s not me we need to keep an eye on,” Ron says, pulling away. “If I put you on a leash, do you think that will keep you away from the Slytherin boys?”

Harry splutters, head snapping up.

You groan. “Nothing happened with Malfoy and I!”

“Oh.”

Your heart drops.

And it shouldn’t. The sound of Draco’s voice - that quiet, innocent little oh - should have done nothing to faze you, but it does. You whirl around and there he is, standing on the bottom step with his hands swinging by his side and his face strained with his attempts to keep that strong expression upon it.

“Sorry. Looks like I’ve walked in at the wrong time,” he sneers.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Ron spits. “Can’t you see we’re a bit occupied at the-”

“Draco…”

Malfoy’s blue eyes flick to you. A muscle tenses in his jaw before he shrugs, turns on his heel and starts walking back the way he came.

Your heart is beating so fast. It feels heavy. Your eyes are burning, unshed tears rising to the surface even though none of it makes sense; you weren’t lying. Nothing did happen between you and Malfoy last night - nothing serious, nothing physical.

But you would be a liar, a downright fool, to claim nothing changed. Soaring through the sky on the back of his broom, watching the stars glide past, laughing louder than you have laughed in many, many months - something did happen, whether it was physical or not.

You turn, eyes finding Ron’s immediately. He’s scowling until he meets your gaze and notices the desperation there; his twin, the strongest of his siblings because you’ve been the most misunderstood your entire life, yet here you are, on the verge of tears because you don’t know what to do.

Ron’s expression softens. He looks over at Harry and Hermione, neither of whom seem to have read the room and have since continued their chat about Harry’s Defence Against the Dark Arts homework.

Ron sighs, steps forward and says, “Go. I’ll tell Mum and Dad you went to the loo or something.”

You’re off in a heartbeat.

If last nights endeavours don’t give away your feelings for Malfoy, then the speed at which you dart back up the stairs certainly does. The hallways are empty besides the odd stray ghost, all of whom you ignore as you search desperately for any sign of Malfoy roaming amongst them. It seems like all is lost until you eventually round the corner leading to the library and very nearly crash right into his back.

He’s leaning against the wall, though he spins around as soon as you make an appearance. His eyes widen, mouth opening but you’re speaking before he can say anything.

“For gods sake, Malfoy! Why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?” you pant, slapping his arm. “Do you know how difficult it is to run up those stairs when they’re moving like that? No, of course you don’t, because you can just Apparate or whatever it is you lot do to get from one place to another.” You groan, clutching the stitch in your side. “Please don’t let me leave here without an explanation.”

Draco stares at you open mouthed, seeming too stunned for words.

You close your eyes and say, “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“What are you-”

“I don’t think nothing happened between us last night.”

Draco pauses. You lean forward, pressing your forehead to the wall in exasperation; your side is still aching, and time is running out, and you’re no longer all that confident in the fact that Draco feels the same way.

“I think. . . I think we were very caught up in the moment,” you hurry on. “It was dark, and the lights were a little romantic-”

“Romantic?”

“And obviously we’re both very confused, because we hate each other, you know? That’s kind of like our thing! You take the mick out of me, and I take the mick out of you, and then we don’t see each other for a good few months and then it restarts, and-”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Yes you do. You always have.”

Draco places a hand on your arm, gently easing you away from the wall. Your eyes open, hands trembling with anxiety but that doesn’t stop Draco from slipping his fingers between your own.

“I don’t hate you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “Do you wanna know a bit of a secret, Weasley?”

Your heart jumps. “Uh. . . Go on then.”

“Last night when the broom fell every time you touched it? That was me. I was making it fall so I had an excuse for you to fly with me.”

You blink. In any other situation, with any other person, that news would absolutely infuriate you. But now, you look up into Draco’s eyes and you see that soft, cheeky smile and you can’t even bring yourself to feel anything besides absolute fondness.

Nonetheless, you scowl. “You really are a little rat, aren’t you Malfoy?”

He throws his head back and laughs, and that does it for you. You grab his chin, pull his head down and kiss him.

His hands find your jaw immediately, winding through your hair as the world disappears and trouble doesn’t exist. It’s a weird feeling to be so at peace with someone who is the definition of destruction, someone who was born and raised to cause havoc. You silently wonder who taught him to be so gentle.

Draco pulls away first, eyes still half-closed, tongue swiping so casually across his bottom lip, as if savouring the feel of you. You are less graceful, stumbling away from him enough to exclaim, “So that broom would have stayed up if you weren’t messing with it? I knew it!”

Draco rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand to pull you back towards him. “Don’t pretend you didn’t prefer flying with me.”

You scowl. “I would have preferred having the option.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better; let’s see who can catch the Snitch quicker.”

Draco pecks your lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

----

“Draco, fly straight! Fly straight!”

“Why would I do that? The Snitch isn’t-”

“Just fly straight!”

Draco groans, tugging the broom in the direction you’ve ordered. Up ahead, Ron and Charlie twist around each other, eyes scanning the garden for any sign of the little golden ball you’re all desperately searching for. Charlie is good - you know this, have seen him play Quidditch too many times to deny such a fact. Now, however, you’re determined to give your boyfriend a point.

“Has Weasley spotted it?” Draco calls over the wind.

“There’s three Weasleys in our vicinity, Draco, you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

“Ron. Has Ron spotted the Snitch?”

You glance over your shoulder. “No, he still looks like he doesn’t know where he is.”

“Oh, good.” Draco speeds up then; you cling onto his waist, keeping your eyes firm on Charlie up ahead. “What have you got planned, Weasley?”

“Give me a minute.” You push yourself up using Draco’s shoulders; your boyfriend cries out, averting his eyes from the path ahead to look up at you as you balance on the back of his broom, a trick Fred and George taught you when you were only little.

“What are you doing?” Draco yells, reaching round with one hand to grab your knees. “You’re gonna fall!”

“Just keep flying straight!”

“Oh my-”

Charlie tries to whizz past, knowing full well what you’re planning to do - he’s seen this trick a million times before, has always claimed it to be cheating. In your eyes, you can’t really cheat if you’re nothing more than a bystander.

And that’s what drives you to leap forward and crash onto the back of Charlie’s broom.

In the background, you can hear Draco cursing, his own broom swerving left and right before he manages to get it together and spin back around. Ron is laughing. Charlie is fuming.

“Get off!” your older brother exclaims. “You said you wouldn’t do that!”

“Give Draco a chance,” you say through giggles, before you slam your hands into the front of Charlie’s broom, directing it to the floor. Charlie yells out your name, thrashing against your hands, but this is something you’ve been doing from the age of eleven, when Fred and George figured out they could use their younger sibling to their advantage, despite the fact you can’t actually fly a broom yourself.

Charlie’s broom crashes to the floor and the two of you roll off it. You scramble up and sprint to the far side of the yard before Charlie can grab your foot and pull you back down for a scolding.

It’s with the professional on the ground that Draco is able to snatch the Snitch right out from under Ron’s nose. You cheer when Draco holds the golden ball in the air, jumping and clapping in your excitement.

“That was cheating!” Ron yells.

“I said that, mate,” Charlie calls back, but neither you nor Draco are listening. Draco comes back to the ground, stumbles off his broom and rushes towards you, the Snitch still in his hand. You jump into his arms, giving him a hug as he laughs heartily in your ear.

“That’s one way to win a Quidditch match,” he says. “Don’t do that again, though. Nearly gave me a bloody heart attack when you stood up.”

You pull away, keeping your arms around his neck. “Aw, were you worried about me?”

Draco scowls. “I’ll push you off the broom next time.”

You chuckle and press your lips to his. He melts in that way he only seems to when it’s you he’s melting into, his arm tightening on your waist, the other pressing the Snitch against your neck.

“Oh, bloody hell, Y/N-”

You pull away from Draco just as your mother appears in front of you, red-faced and furious.

“AND HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO STOP DIVING BETWEEN BROOMS? DO YOU WANT TO GET YOURSELF KILLED? HONESTLY, CHARLIE COULD HAVE DIED! Oh, hello Draco, dear - would you like some toast?”

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feralthoughtdump · 4 years ago

Text

Sign of The Times

Part One: Kiss With A Fist

Part Two: Only Angel

Part Three: Arsonist's Lullaby

Bucky and his Angel’s time in Riga is coming to an end and possibly their little fling.

CW: violence, slight angst, John Walker being rude, fluff, slight smut, nightmares, slight allusions to religion and maternal trauma, crying, Sign of The Times by Harry Styles, time jump

Word Count: 6.6k

Angel wakes up next to Bucky and her heart is filled with regret.

No, not regret over the sex, rather what happened after the sex.

You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.

Why did she say that? Why did she admit to that?

She hopes that he didn’t hear her. She hopes that he’ll forget what she said to him.

Never in her life, even after the sex that she’s had, had she ever admit to something so stupid. Something so personal.

But then again, she’s never had sex with someone like Bucky until now.

He’s made her feel something. He’s made her feel full in more ways than one.

He’s made her feel good, and never in her life, has anyone made her feel good.

Bucky stirs next to her, pulling her body close to his.

He’s warm, and his embrace makes her feel warmer.

She turns around, careful not to wake him, so she can see his face.

She can’t stop thinking about him. He had managed to crack the hard shell that was ingrained into her. He had managed to reach into her and pull out someone else. Someone she was unfamiliar with.

Someone human.

Thirteen years ago, when she would study the blurry images that were put in front of her, She would have assumed that they were cut from the same cloth. But now? As he is lying right next to her, holding her in his arms, they couldn’t be more different.

Bucky killed because he didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t in control.

But her? That wasn’t the case. Violence was a part of her. It ran through her blood.

She needed it like a shark needs to swim.

As for you, you seem to have this, how do I say it, a compulsion to kill. It will always stick to you.

She thinks about Zemo’s words and a bitter taste fills her mouth.

He’s right. She was ruled by anger and compulsion.

She knows that when this is over, she would go back to killing. She wouldn’t be able to stop no matter how hard she wanted to.

Bucky’s metal hand clasps over hers, pulling her from her thoughts.

“What are you thinking about sweet Angel?”

She quickly paints on a smile and kisses him.

“Nothing, Buck. Just admiring you.”

How could she, a monster, have pulled a man as good as him, she thinks, staring into his bright, blue eyes.

“Well, I’ll lie here and admire you too.” He smiles.

His words improve her mood, practically melting her stress away. He doesn’t mention her confession at all and it fills her with relief.

She basks in his warmth and gentle gaze until a knock on the door startles them.

“Alright lovebirds, it’s half-past ten,” Sam remarks. “We’ve got some work to do.”

Angel smiles and gives Bucky one final kiss.

“I’m going to get dressed. So get out.”

She closes the bedroom door and sits in front of the mirror, quietly dabbing concealer around her under eyes. Her tongue slightly pokes out from between her teeth as she meticulously fills in her brows. She turns her head to the side and grins.

“Pretty.” She whispers to herself.

Pretty made her feel nice. It made her feel sweet. Feeling pretty made her feel slightly less monstrous.

As she twirls in front of the mirror, she grins at her appearance. Sure, the pink puff-sleeved dress was obnoxious and the volume and ruffled hem made it slightly impractical, she thought it was lovely. A cute little number she bought the second she saw it in a store window in Paris. A reward for herself. A little ‘good job’ gift after her twenty-fifth kill.

It almost made her look angelic.

She grabs her white heeled boots and opens the door, lacing them up as she hops through the entrance.

“Nice dress.” Sam notes, peering at her outfit.

“Really?” Angel grabs a Turkish Delight from the counter and pops it into her mouth. “Thanks. I got it in Paris.” She chirps.

“You’re in such a good mood today,” Sam mutters. “Does it have anything to do with your wild night with Bucky?”

Bucky chokes on his water and coughs.

“You heard us?”

“Of course I did. You two need to learn how to control your volume.”

She walks over to the couch and sits down, the dress poofing around her.

“Bucky needs a good lay anyways.” She ties the laces of her boots into a bow. “It’s good stress relief.”

The sun casts a colorful light onto the floor and Angel admires him, bathed in reds, blues, and greens.

“Well, I saw a crepe place nearby.” She stands from the couch, balancing on her boots. “I’ll be back soon.”

…

Sam and Bucky were deep in conversation when she walks through the door, a bag of crepes in tow.

“Something’s not right about Walker.” Bucky says.

“You don’t say.” Sam replies.

“Well, I know a crazy one when I see one.” Bucky looks down at his plate. “Because I am crazy.”

“Oh hush.” Angel giggles, passing him a box of crepes. “You’re a little rough around the edges but that doesn’t mean you’re crazy.”

Zemo chuckles and leans against the dresser, a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“You’re an assassin who kills with no hesitation”

“Baron, just because I kill with no hesitation doesn’t mean I’m crazy.” She laughs, placing another box in front of him. “I’m able to stay cool and calculated and need I remind you, it’s my job.”

She walks past Sam and hands him a box. He mutters a quick ‘thank you’ and shuts his laptop closed.

The four of them have a long-overdue debrief of the events that happened the day before. They go over what went wrong, and what went right.

When the conversation shifts to the serum, the mood changes.

“Hypothetically, if you were offered it,” Zemo asks Sam, “Would you have taken it?”

“No.” Sam says.

“No hesitation,” Zemo notes. “Impressive.” He turns to Angel. “What about you?”

“No.” She sets her fork down. “I don’t like the idea of becoming, you know, more of myself.”

“What do you mean by that?” Bucky questions.

Her mood is quickly soured when John Walker kicks his way through the door.

“Alright.” He commands. “That’s it. I’m ordering for you to turn him (Zemo) over.”

“Here we go again.” She mutters, standing up to pour herself a tumbler of whiskey.

“Hey,” Sam stands up. “Slow your roll. Shield or no shield, the only thing you’re running is your mouth. Now, I had Karli and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful yesterday. And we need all hands on deck for whatever’s coming next.”

“And what exactly has Princess Peach over there done to help?” John scoffs. “How does strutting around Latvia in her little outfits and playing with knives help?”

“Hey!” Angel snaps. “Shut your mouth. At least I have more than one outfit to wear while sauntering around Europe.”

John speeds over to her and raises his hand, but she catches his wrist.

“Ooh,” she chastises. “Hitting women, huh? Not very Captain America of you.”

Bucky stands from his seat and crosses his arms.

“Don’t you dare touch her, Walker.” He seethes.

“I can hold my own, Buck.” She narrows her eyes. “Step away John, or I’ll break your fucking wrist.”

“Listen here, John.” Sam walks over to him as John pulls his arm from Angel’s grip. “She’s been helpful this entire time, keeping an eye on Zemo, helping us track down Karli, and defending us when our lives were put at risk. Yet, you’ve been nothing but hostile to her. If you want us to work as a team, I expect you to at least show her some decency.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to push away her anger. All she wanted was to punch him in the face, maybe stab him in the neck, but she knows she shouldn’t. At least not when Bucky and Sam are around.

“Thanks, Sam.” She mumbles.

“If a fight is what you want, why don’t I put down the shield huh?” John fumes. “Make this fair.”

As the shield touches the ground, a spear whizzes past Angel, the momentum fluffing the edge of her dress.

She turns around to see a woman clad in red.

The Dora Miaje. She’s heard the stories about them. The female warriors of Wakanda who had fought the titans after the blip.

Angel had always been one to prepare for any outcome, but this? She wasn’t expecting this. Not that she didn’t mind.

Her head whips around as two more walks past the doors, brandishing spears.

One speaks in Wakandan, and Bucky looks down in shame.

She may not understand her, but she knows that they were not happy with him.

“Release him to us now.” The woman demands.

“Bucky?” Angel turns to look at him. “What did you do?”

He doesn’t answer her, he only looks at the table, avoiding her eyes.

She sighs and takes a sip of whisky, scowling at the taste.

“Hi. John Walker.”

Angel quirks a brow as he walks up to the Dora Milaje, holding out a hand. He receives no handshake nor a verbal reply.

“Well, uh,” John holds out his arms. “Let’s put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?”

“Hey, John, take it easy,” Sam says, a frustrated smile on his face. “You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

John rolls his eyes.

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here.”

Angel internally winces. She may not have expected this, but she knows this won’t end well.

“The Dora Milaje had jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.”

“Okay.” John scoffs. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“John,” Angel warns. “You really should shut up right now.”

Her warning falls on deaf ears as he places his hand on the woman’s armor.

Within the blink of an eye, a fight ensues.

She observes from afar, deciding it was best that she doesn’t involve herself.

Her drink is placed on the counter as she walks over to Sam and Bucky.

She stands back with an amused look while John faces off with the Dora Milaje.

Sounds of clanging metal and fighting echo throughout the room.

“Do I have your permission to join them? Any excuse to fight Walker is a good excuse.”

She whispers to Bucky.

“Best you stay out of it and enjoy the show.” He whispers back.

Sam turns to them.

“We should do something.”

“Looking strong, John” Bucky yells over the fighting and Angel claps a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh.

“Bucky.” Sam scolds.

In the corner of her eye, she spots Zemo reaching for his coat.

He’s making a run for it. And she’s not letting him get away.

Before the doors of the bathroom close, she wedges her foot in between them.

“You’re not going anywhere.” She glares at him.

Zemo sighs.

“I really liked you. So please don’t take this personally.”

He pulls her through the doors as they close and slams her head against the edge of the tub.

She tenderly touches her forehead and winces.

“You son of a bitch.”

“I need to visit my home.” He says as dark spots form in her vision. “Just one last time. I hope you understand.”

All she can do is lie there, head on the tile, as her vision fades to black.

…

She wakes up with a concerned Bucky hovering over her.

“Oh, doll,” He murmurs, brushing his fingers over the developing bruise on her forehead. “I shouldn’t have strung you along.”

“It’s okay, Bucky.” She murmurs, pain rushing through her head.

“Now I’ve dragged you into this… this mess-”

“Hey, hey.” She sits up and cradles his face in her hands. “If I didn’t want to be here, I would’ve gone back to Amsterdam right after what happened in Madripoor.” He looks down, refusing to meet her eyes. “Bucky,” She lifts his chin with her finger. “Look at me. I’m here on my own accord. I want to be here. With you.”

Sam walks over to them and hands her a wrapped ice pack.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, yeah.” She accepts it and places the cool towel against her head. “What time is it? How long was I out?”

“For a few hours,” Sam answers her. “You hit your head really hard.”

“What’s next, what else do you need me to do?”

“No,” Sam shakes his head. “You aren’t going anywhere. You need to rest.”

“I’m fine.” she stands but Bucky places an arm on her shoulder, pushing her back onto the bed. “Guys, I let Zemo get away, I need to-”

“Hey,” Sam crouches down next to her. “I meant what I said, about you being helpful. And Zemo getting away isn’t your fault. Stay here and rest. I just don’t want you to be putting yourself in danger.”

“He’s right.” Bucky agrees. “You need to take care of yourself, doll.”

“I can handle it.” She struggles against Bucky’s hold on her. “I promise. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Hey,” Sam places his hand gently on her forearm. “We don’t know if you had a concussion, but concussion or no concussion, we’re not letting you endanger yourself.”

She lies back down on the bed and shuts her eyes, giving in.

“Fine. Just don’t get hurt.”

…

She lies there for what feels like hours, staring at the ceiling, reading her book, drawing in her sketchbook. But when she turns to the clock, it’s only been twenty minutes

She’s bored. And nothing good comes out of being bored.

You’re the only one who’s made me feel human.

God, why did she say that?

Why was she feeling this way?

Despite their hostile reunion

An angel? Sure. But not the angel Bucky thinks she is.

She wasn’t like the beautiful angels hanging in the Louvre. Ones who brought peace and lights. She was the angel the world had painted her to be. One of death, rage, and destruction.

How could he ever see her as an angel? How could he show her this gentle, tender love that no one else has?

Does he love her?

Does she love him?

“Love.” She mutters to herself. “Such a funny word.”

She doesn’t even know what love is. How could she know what Bucky has been showing her is love? The gentle touches, calling her Angel, holding her close when they fall asleep. That was love, right?

Deciding that her thoughts have gone too far, she reaches into her bag to find an orange bottle of sleeping pills. She changes out of her dress and reaches for Bucky’s dark red henley that was bunched up on the floor.

Her nose buries into the fabric as she inhales his woodsy smell.

With a sigh, she pulls it over her head and walks to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.

Her fingers roll the pale pink pill between her fingers. Deciding whether or not sleep was worth it.

Finally, she just decides to take the pill, swallowing it dry and a grimace crosses her face at the bitter taste.

She lies down, covered in Bucky’s smell, and closes her eyes.

…

Angel doesn’t know where she is.

Well, she does. The house is still the same, only this time, it was up in flames.

Screams echo around her.

“Look at what you’ve done!” They tell her, voices distorted.

“Monster!”

“Devil!”

“Evil!”

She turns around to face a woman in a black dress, her face obscured by a matching veil.

“Oh, my dear.” She says, voice croaking and broken. “Why didn’t you save me? Why did you leave me there to die?”

“I-” Angel stammers. “I’m sorry.”

The woman sinks to the ground and Angel runs after her, crouching down to see where she went.

When she stands, she sees that she’s surrounded by broken mirrors.

No matter where she looked, she was faced with her distorted reflection.

“Look at yourself!” The voices return. “Look at what you are!”

“No!” She screams back. “No! No! No!”

A force knocks her onto her knees and she sees that the floor has turned into a mirror as well.

The fire burns her, making her skin peel.

She claws at her face, trying to peel the reddening skin away and she scrambles back when it reveals the cracked gray skin.

“This is who you are!” They scream.

“Stop!” She sobs. “Shut up!”

Angel looks down at her hands, fingernails growing into long black claws. When she looks up, she screams at her appearance.

Her soft, glowing skin and peeled away to reveal a pale, ghostly face. Her eyes, once bright, are now pools of black.

“You’re a monster!” A different voice booms throughout the room.

“Mama?” She whimpers. “Mama, is that you?”

“You were always the bad seed. You were always filled with darkness. Evil.”

“No Mama!” She cries. “Mama, please! I’m sorry!”

The mirrored floor cracks around her.

“I never wanted you! I should’ve killed you the second you came out of me!”

Angel scrambles around the mirrored room, avoidant the cracks around her feet.

"And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea,”

“Stop!” Angel covers her ears.

But her mother’s voice is louder “having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy."

“Angel?”

“Please stop!” She begs her mother.

“Angel! Wake up!”

“Angel!”

She screams, batting her arms, trying to push anyone and anything out of her path.

“Get away from me!” Her voice is hoarse from screaming. “I’ll only hurt you.”

“Angel,” Bucky places his metal hand against her heated skin. “Angel, you’re okay, you’re safe. You aren’t going to hurt anyone.”

Tears stream down her face as she meets Bucky’s gentle, blue eyes.

“Bucky?” She shakily whispers.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s Bucky.” He gently rubs at her cheek with his thumb. “You were having a nightmare.”

She reaches out with a shaky hand and places it against Bucky’s cheek, rubbing at his stubble.

She needed to know he was actually there. She needed to know that he was real.

As her sleep-clouded vision clears, she sees the bruises and cuts on Bucky’s face and she starts crying again.

“Oh, Bucky,” She pulls her hand away. “Did I do this to you?”

“No, no you didn’t, doll.” He gently smiles at her and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Then who did this to you?” She whispers.

“Sam and I had to get the shield back. John decided to get a little scrappy but I’ll be okay.” He moves her sweaty hair out of her face. “I have enhanced healing, remember?”

Angel gives him a shaky nod and burrows her face into his chest.

A loud sob leaves her lips as she shakes in his arms.

“Oh doll,” he coos at her, reaching his flesh hand under her (well his) shirt and tracing his fingers up and down her back. “Shh. It’s okay, honey. You’ll be okay.”

When her sobs subside and she’s left a shaking form in his arms, Bucky presses a kiss on the top of her head.

She looks up and sees Sam peaking at them from over his shoulder.

He’s got a look of sympathy in his eyes.

“Nightmare?” He asks.

Her throat hurts too much to speak so Bucky answers for her.

“Mhm.”

Sam walks over to them and places a glass of water on the nightstand.

He takes a seat next to them and places a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Angel shakes her head. Talking wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to burden them further.

“Sam?” She quietly asks. “Can I have a hug?”

“Of course.”

Sam wraps his arm tightly around the both of them and rubs Angel’s back.

“I don’t know what you’re dealing with, and I don’t know what you’ve gone through, but I just want to let you know that it’s okay to feel weak.”

He gives Bucky a gentle look.

“I’m, uh, I’m headed back to Louisiana in a few hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

Sam gives Bucky a soft pat on the back and turns to Angel.

“And if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. So is Bucky.”

When Sam leaves, the crying returns. She’s much too tired to sob, but silent tears stream down her face, wetting Bucky’s soft t-shirt.

“Come on, doll. Let’s sleep.”

She vehemently shakes her head. Not wanting the nightmares to return.

“No, no.” Her breathing quickens. “I- I don’t want to. I’m scared.”

“Okay, okay.” He strokes her back. “Let’s just stay like this for a while.”

They sit in silence, holding onto each other. She feels vulnerable, weak, and tired. Oh, so tired. All the years of building up her walls, pushing people away, destroying anything good in her path, had finally caught up to her.

She wants to strip her skin away and emerge as a new person. She wants to open up her body. Take out all of the ugly, the evil, the darkness, and stitch herself back up. She wants to destroy herself.

And maybe, after she pays the price in her own blood, she can finally be good.

This world wasn’t made for her, she thinks, and though she gave up on faith a long time ago, she thinks that after all the things she’s done, she’ll never end up in heaven.

And having Bucky here? Having him hold her, and caress her, and call her his Angel?

That was the closest to heaven that she’ll ever get.

Bucky pulls her back to reality when he lifts her chin up.

“I have an idea.” He smiles. “Now, I haven’t done this since 1943, but why don’t we dance?” He helps her stand up and brushes her hair back.

Angel looks away from him bashfully.

“I- I don’t really know how to dance.”

“Here.” He hands her his phone, Spotify open on his screen. “You pick the music and I’ll show you how. It’s really easy.”

“Should it be a 40s song?” She mumbles.

“No.” He smiles and shakes his head. “It can be any song that you like. I just wanna make you feel better, doll.”

She quietly browses through his song library and then, turns to the search bar.

“Here you go,” she hands it back to him. “I think you’ll like this one.”

“Sign of the Times.” He chuckles. “Can you dance to it?”

She shrugs.

“I hope so.”

Bucky places his hands on her waist and pulls her close to him.

“Okay, Angel, so I’m just going to hold your right hand like this.” He intertwined his right hand with hers and raised it to his shoulder. “And your left hand goes on my life shoulder.”

As she places her left hand against the metal of his shoulder, Bucky keeps his left hand on her waist.

“Now what?” She quietly asks.

“Now, we just sway.”

He quickly unlinks their fingers to press play on the song.

As the sounds of a piano fill the room, Bucky starts swaying and Angel follows along.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times

Welcome to the final show

Hope you're wearing your best clothes

“You were right, I do like this song.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.”

You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky

You look pretty good down here

But you ain't really good

If we never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

Angel closes her eyes and allows herself to rest her head on his chest. Even with the music playing, she can hear the quiet thumping of his heart. It calms her. She relaxes her shoulders and smiles, humming along to the song. Bucky holds her tighter as the chorus approaches.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times

We gotta get away from here

Just stop your crying

It'll be alright

They told me that the end is near

We gotta get away from here

Just stop your crying

Have the time of your life

Breaking through the atmosphere

And things are pretty good from here

Remember everything will be alright

We can meet again somewhere

Somewhere far away from here

Peace. She feels at peace in Bucky’s arms. He is her sanctuary and she hopes that she can be his.

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

She hopes that this won’t be temporary. She hopes that this moment can last forever, being held by him.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times

We gotta get away from here

Stop your crying

Baby, it'll be alright

But even though she can hope, she knows it won’t last forever. Bucky, this man, this man who is filled with good, even with all he’s been through, never let that good fade away. He will see her for who she truly is, how she was never good. He will see how she was born with darkness and he will see how the darkness overtook her.

They told me that the end is near

We gotta get away from here

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

We never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets

We don't talk enough

We should open up

Before it's all too much

Will we ever learn?

We've been here before

It's just what we know

“I’m…” Her voice wobbles. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster.” He places a kiss on the top of her head. “You were never a monster.”

Stop your crying, baby

It's a sign of the times

We gotta get away

We got to get away

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Bucky.”

“So have I.”

We got to get away

“But you didn’t have a choice. I did.”

We got to, we got to, away

The music comes to an end and Angel pulls Bucky over to the bed.

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after you stop?” He asks her. “You know, when you retire, I guess.”

She sighs.

“I’m not sure. I have enough money to live a quiet life in Paris. That’s the closest I have to a retirement plan.”

“When will that be?”

Angel lies down.

“I’m not sure.”

Bucky braces his arms around her head.

“We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

“Okay.” She pulls him in for a heated kiss. “But first, I want to feel you.”

Her hands cradle his face and she kisses every cut and bruise on his face.

“My sweet Angel. You’re too kind to me.”

He litters kisses down her neck, onto her collarbones, down her sternum, and onto her scar.

“So beautiful. So, so beautiful.” He murmurs.

Angel cards her hands through his soft hair as he rests his head on her lower stomach.

She giggles when he nuzzles at her tummy.

“Tickles.”

“Can’t help it. You look so pretty in my shirt. I just want to make you feel pretty.”

He places his fingers along the waistband of her panties.

“Can I?”

“Mhm”

As he pulls them down her legs and kisses along her thighs, she reaches out with her free hand and links her flesh fingers with his metal ones.

He’s gentle with her this time.

She can’t speak, only gasping his name. She arches her back and pushes her hips closer to him, silently begging for more.

Instead of teasing her, he gives her what she wants. Never forced her to beg.

He handles her delicately like she’s made of glass.

He calls her sweet names, doll Angel, honey, as he licks into her. Her moans are soft and sweet.

He coaxes an orgasm after orgasm out of her and she lays back, relishing in the pleasure, in the love he gives her.

It feels like heaven.

He feels like heaven.

And when he unbuckles his belt and pushes inside of her, he is still gentle, slowly rocking himself back and forth.

Though she’s still sore from the night before, the pain never overpowers the pleasure.

She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, silently telling him that he is hers and much as she is his.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” He groans into her neck. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you too.” She pants. “You make me feel human. You’re the only one who’s made me feel human, Bucky.” This time, she wants him to hear her. She wants him to know.

The skin on skin contact, feeling his body pressed against hers, it’s all everything she’s ever wanted. It’s everything she’s ever needed.

“You’re mine.” He rocks his hips faster. “You're my Angel. Say it to me.”

“I’m yours. I’m your Angel.”

She doesn’t think she can cum one more time, but she does. Walls clenching around him, making him gasp with pleasure.

“I’m…” he murmurs against her lips. “I’m gonna cum.”

She presses her lips against his.

“Come on, cum for me, my love.”

…

Bucky quickly fell asleep. Tired from the fighting and tired from the fucking.

Angel spends the rest of the night caressing his face and playing with his fingers.

They spent only a few days together but she’s been able to fall for him in this short time.

Though she doesn’t know what love feels like, she thinks she loves him.

Being with him, it’s changed her.

She knows that she’ll eventually have to leave, go back to Amsterdam. He’ll go back to New York.

They will be apart again for who knows how long.

But she doesn’t want that to happen so now, all she can do is live in the moment, and pretend that they can live in this moment forever.

“I love you.” She whispers. “I love you, James Bucky Barnes.

…

On the drive to the Sokovia memorial, they’re quiet. But it’s a comfortable silence. They listen to Bucky’s 40s music and admire the scenery.

She’s decided that she doesn’t want to kill anymore. At least not kill as much.

She’ll settle down somewhere. Somewhere on her own. In her fantasies, it would be with Bucky, but realistically, she thinks, it’s best that she’s on her own.

“I’ve been thinking, when this is over, we’ll go back to Amsterdam.” He says, breaking the silence “You can pack all of your things and you can stay with me. In Brooklyn.”

Her heart stops. He wants to go home. He wants to go home and take her with him.

“I’ve never been to New York.” She says over the sound of Dream A Little Dream of Me.

“I’ll show you around.” He turns to look at her. “We can start a new life together. I- I know someone you can talk to. Someone who can help you work through whatever you’ve been through.”

It’s too good to be true. Yet every part of her urges her to accept his offer.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“You don’t need to give me an answer now, and you don’t have to come back with me immediately, but know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

She sighs.

“Bucky, you have so much in you. You have all this love, this kindness, this goodness. I don’t want to be the person that ruins it all for you.”

He pulls the car over.

“Sweet Angel,” he caresses her face. “You could never do that. You-“ he looks down and takes her hand. “I believe that you have the same good inside of you. You just don’t know it yet.”

She looks away at him, eyes finding the memorial in the distance. Maybe he’s right. Maybe she does have that goodness inside of her. She just needs time to find it.

“You sound so sure of yourself.”

“I am sure. Yes, you actively chose to kill, but the people you killed? They aren’t good people. They’re people who had no qualms about harming others to get their way. Do I agree with killing them? No, but you did what you thought was right.”

She shakes her head.

“It’s not the fact I kill people for money that makes me a bad person, Bucky. It’s what I did that got me that job.”

“So what did you do then?”

Angel gulps, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I don’t remember much because I was a kid. I… I don’t really like talking about it.”

“Hey,” He tilts her head towards him. “Look at me.”

She averts her gaze, shame bubbling inside of her.

“Angel,” Bucky’s tone is more authoritative now. “I need you to look at me.” She finally allows her eyes to meet his. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s alright. There are things I’ve done that I don’t want to talk about either.”

Angel nudges her cheek deeper into his hand, wanting to feel more of the contact.

“I want to believe that I’m good, and I want to believe that I won’t hurt you.” She bites her lip, no longer wanting to discuss the subject. “We can talk about this later. Right now, I think you have some unfinished business.

…

Angel went back to Amsterdam alone.

The two had gone to the airport together, bags packed, and hand in hand, but after Bucky had gone to buy a cup of coffee, she disappeared.

She didn’t leave him empty-handed. She went to the airport toy store and bought a small brown bear. When the stomach was pressed, Bucky could hear her voice say “I’ll come back to you. I promise. Love, your Angel.”

He had found it in his duffel bag along with a small bottle of apple cinnamon body wash and a note written on a napkin.

I hope you won’t be mad that I left you, but if you are, I understand.

I need to figure things out, tie up some loose strings before I find a lasting home. Maybe a lasting home in New York.

But I promise you, I’ll see you again. And I never break my promises.

I hope you’ll wait for me.

I love you, Bucky

He felt his heart shatter, but he understood. She needed time.

So he went home, back to his Brooklyn apartment. And he waited.

When he woke up, he waited.

When he’d listen to the voice in the bear, he waited.

When he’d go get lunch with Yori, he waited.

When he went to Louisiana to help Sam with the boat, he waited.

“Did you find your Angel?” Sam had asked him, looking out into the sunset.

“Not yet.” Bucky had replied.

Even after the events in Lower Manhattan, he still waited.

For days on end, he waited. Constantly checking his phone, calling Sharon, scouring through European newspapers, looking for any sign of her.

But he found nothing.

He wanted to give up, but a small part of him knew that Angel would come back. He could feel it deep within him.

She made him a promise.

Five Months Later

Angel stares at the red water rush down the shower drain, the metallic stench of blood permeating throughout the bathroom.

There was so much of it, not even her body wash could cover the smell.

She had said ‘one last kill’ three days after she stepped foot back in Amsterdam. And then she had said it again three kills later.

And now that her body count had reached a perfect two fifty, maybe this would be her last kill.

Two fifty was a good number, she thinks as she pulls Bucky’s red henley over her head. A good number to stop at.

The buzzing of her phone turns her attention away from the soft fabric.

She picks it up, brow furrowing at the ‘unknown number’.

Cautiously, she answers.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me, Sharon.”

Angel stands.

“Sharon? How did you get my number?”

“I was a hustler in Madripoor. I have my ways. Don’t worry though, I’m using a burner phone.”

“Why are you calling me?”

There’s the sound of a refrigerator opening and closing from Sharon’s end of the line.

“I just want to let you know I’ve been pardoned.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“And I’m back in the CIA.”

“Congratulations.” Angel’s voice is tinged with sarcasm. “Now you’ve got an entire database of American government secrets at your disposal. Have fun with that.”

Sharon laughs.

“You know me too well. Which is surprising considering that we spent less than twenty-four hours together.”

“Well, knowing how to read people is a part of being an assasin.”

There’s a sigh on the other line.

“I don’t want you to panic, but there’s word that MI6 reopened your case.”

Angel closes her eyes and pulls the top of Bucky’s henley over her nose. In the beginning, when she had left him at the airport, she had taken the shirt with her. After a really bad job, or when she needed to feel okay, she'd bury her nose into the fabric and inhale, clinging onto the only piece of him she had with her.

But his smell had started to fade away and it filled her with sadness.

“So you’re telling me that they’ll come for me.”

“I doubt they’ll find you. After our talk in Madripoor, I managed to erase almost all of their progress. Still, I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

Silence fell in between them.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Maybe it was time. Time to put her weapons down, pack her bags, and start over.

She thinks about Bucky’s offer. How he said that he would be waiting for her in Brooklyn. Maybe he’d still be waiting for her. Plus, she had made him a promise. She never broke her promises.

“I think it’s time to retire.”

...

Bucky had come home from late-night grocery shopping when he could smell the unmistakable scent of apple cinnamon body wash.

It could’ve been him. He found himself using it regularly. But this time, the smell was stronger. Sweeter.

He opens the door to his dark apartment, the only light coming from the city lights peeking through the curtains.

He quietly sets his bags down and turns on the lights. There, sitting on his kitchen counter is a cake box.

The fancy gold script indicated it was from one of the expensive bakeries in Midtown.

He hesitantly approaches it and gently opens it, revealing a fancy white cake covered in delicate piping and rosettes.

In the center, iced in simple pink script were the words ‘Miss Me?’

She’s here. She kept her promise.

The sound of his front door closing made him jump.

He whips around to see Angel. His sweet angel, wearing the same pink dress from their last day in Latvia, leaning against the door, arms crossed, and a wide smile on her face.

“Hey, Bucky.” She chuckles. “Thanks for waiting.”

...

Once again, a huge thank you to @sojournmichael for being my beta read, check out her writing, it’s amazing <3

#bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws

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galadrieljones · 4 years ago

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The Walking Dead: Episode 4.12, “Still” Rewatch

So I rewatched “Still” in honor of the Stilliversary tonight. My thoughts are not related much to Team Delusional stuff, more so just thoughts and idle analysis, but I had fun and definitely did not cry.

Here we go!

Beth is already feeling it, right away, after the trunk scene, ie: what he must think of her. She’s just another “dead girl” who needs to be protected. It is both insulting and embarrassing at the same time.

Daryl misses that squirrel and breaks an arrow! Dammit, Daryl. This is just another trial, but it’s interesting in how we see Daryl in like rote provider mode, and yet he makes a mistake.

The suck-ass camp begins with some Garden of Eden imagery: While Daryl skins and cooks the snake, Beth is admiring the beauty of a ladybug crawling on a leaf. The music is actually full of wonder. Beth sees the beauty in the natural world while Daryl sees it only for what he can use. It is an essential masculine vs. feminine moment, in terms of their individual themes, and what propels them and their actions. Their masculine and feminine energies will be subverted later though, and well-complicated, because the writing is good.

Beth brings up Hershel’s death early: “He’s not exactly around anymore so...” She wants to have a drink, maybe to rebel against her father, maybe to honor his memory, maybe to seal her own fate. It is a complicated choice for Beth. It’s not just some “dumb college bitch” moment. She knows this, but how is she supposed to communicate it to Daryl?

Daryl is like an animal eating that snake while Beth tries to talk to him. Literally, out of body. I imagine being her and just like, Ugh. Gross, dude. Then, when she leaves, Beth totally expects him to come after her. When she doesn’t see him right away, she mutters, “Jerk.” She called him a jerk in season 3, too, after he takes off with Merle. I think Beth is used to being treated nicely by boys. Ofc, Daryl, while he may not be an overt gentleman in his scarfing of that disgusting snake, was there watching her the whole time.

“You wanna spend the rest of our lives staring into a fire and eating mud snakes? Screw that. We might as well do something.”

I sort of missed this before, the mention of “the rest of our lives.” It is a small acknowledgement that they are now “stuck together.” Ofc, Beth’s idea is to “make the most of it,” to go out into and DO something! Embrace the future! Daryl sees only the here, the now, and the past. He would prefer to stay still.

Unrelated but: God, Daryl is peak hot in this episode.

Anyway, so, the state of Pine Vista, and what happened there. Jfc. It’s very ugly and very sad. The Dogtrot seems a reference to a dogtrot house, which is an old Appalachian style home. Basically like two shacks connected via a breezeway. I see some sort of backcountry types having moved in here and tortured the rich folk. There is evidence that “fun” was had. “Rich bitch,” etc. Maybe it’s the same psychopaths who tormented the OG Terminus crew, ultimately turning them into crazy cannibals.

Beth finds the Washington D.C. spoon. Why?? It’s such an odd, pointed shot, with a slow zoom. Is that where we’ll find her? Does anybody else know anything about this?? Anyway maybe this is a TD post lol.

Beth finds that bottle of wine and it’s a shame she has to break it! I remember feeling so bad about that the first time I watched this episode. Like NO BETH YOUR BOOZE!! She uses it to stab the shit out of that walker though, and to defend herself. She’s kind of pissed at Daryl for not helping her, again used to only the kindest of attention from boys. But Daryl isn’t like other boys (lol). He was there the whole time, once again, but he let it play out, because he knew she could do it. I like that her first (almost) drink here sort of has to become a weapon instead. Nothing is ever easy! And sometimes, the environment IS best observed, not in terms of its beauty or promise, but in terms of how its use can best be served to survive.

Tempus Fugit - Time flies! Oh, yes. Yes it does lol.

Daryl and Beth both need to escape their old selves here. Beth with her pretty cloths and Daryl stealing the cash and the jewels. They need to shake that shit off. Burn it all down, if you will. I think this episode we mostly associate with Daryl changing and having his epiphany, but Beth changes, too. She is just quieter at it.

It is 3 o’clock! The grandfather clock is this interesting motif that puts pressure on the situation literally while also bringing the symbolic pressure of time passing, running out, etc. It makes us feel detached from reality, like this is a purgatory episode. I like when The Walking Dead does this, like when they take us to a new place in which we become critically aware that this thing we’re watching is fiction, and by the rules of fiction, anything (ANYTHING) can happen.

“I know you think this is stupid, and it probably is, but I don’t care.” She just is who she is. She doesn’t give a shit what he thinks. I think that attracts Daryl to her in this moment and emboldens him. I think Daryl actually really cares what other people think of him, that he is keenly self-aware in this way. We see this fear manifest as Merle in Chupacabra, ie: that the rest of the group thinks he’s a “freak,” a piece of “redneck trash,” and that they’re all “laughing behind [his] back.” Meanwhile, Beth is just like, “You probably think I’m just some dumb bitch. But guess what, Daryl? I DON’T CARE.”

Beth sitting at that bar trying to clean out glasses: “Who needs a glass?” She clutches the bottle longingly and then cries. I would argue she is thinking of Hershel and the line of questioning that arises in this moment. Should she do this? Is she betraying him? This moment also contradicts what she tells Daryl in 4.1. “I don’t cry anymore Daryl.” This is the moment that breaks him.

Beth keeps trying to make him feel normal, while they’re walking to the shine shack. She thinks he used to be a motorcycle mechanic. But Daryl’s normal is not hers, and he doesn’t really do small talk. In these little moments, we see him being who he is. Daryl is really good at being who he is when who he is revolves around passivity and silence.

They go from country club to moonshine shack. What we see is how a class divide might differ in longevity. A country club full of walkers, made out of humans who turned against each other, every bottle dry in the house vs. an empty shine shack, no death in sight, absolutely full of booze. When societal protections collapse around us, it is the ruthless and the bereft who will know how best to survive. It’s like Beth sad about Daryl, being “made for this world.”

They are trapped! Tropes. So many romantic tropes! Lol at people who would like to ignore that any of this happened or that Bethyl was never canon.

This:

Anyway, I think Daryl is actually pretty mean to Beth toward the end here, out on the porch, like the way he treats her, kind of tugs her around physically. He doesn’t hurt her, but he is not gentle. This puts things into harsh perspective for Beth, as I do think that, while he is not right in how he handles her here, he is right in some ways about who she is. She is not naive but she is used to protection and safety and relying on others, the same way he is used to the opposite of those things. Both of them need to learn how to exist from the other side.

Beth also sees what’s going on, however. I think she also might be used to this sort of quasi-violent, performative, drunken behavior. Her dad was a drunk. I think it’s interesting that so much of this episode hinges on alcohol in Hershel’s wake. I always thought this might be one reason Beth is drawn to and accepting of Daryl. We only really see Hershel while sober (I mean, mostly). We never saw him in his deep element of alcoholism, but Beth did. She is not innocent to vices or men spinning out of control. It’s why Beth responds to Daryl’s whole insane story about the tweaker and Merle with, “You miss him, don’t you?” She doesn’t care that Merle was a degenerate drug addict. He was Daryl’s brother who died. She has loved and lost an addict, too.

Before, Daryl was just “drifting.” In this episode, Beth gives him a quest. I think that’s very important. She also gives him something to look forward to:

“You got away from it.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Maybe you gotta keep on reminding me of it sometimes.”

The hint at their future: “You gotta keep on reminding me,” he says, counting on them staying together. Beth is so kind to him here, too, even doting as she talks about him being the “last man standing.” I can’t imagine a girl has ever treated Daryl like this. I think she scares the living shit out of him.

Daryl suggests they go back into the shine shack, but Beth says they should burn the place down instead. Again, stillness vs. action. See their complimentary traits: Daryl is passive. He needs someone to tell him this is okay. Beth is active. She does what she wants. It is uniquely antithetical to their gender roles and subverts the power dynamic we might otherwise expect from a relationship like this: Daryl is older and a man. Ofc he should be the more aggressive, assertive one. The actor. But he’s not. It’s Beth who makes their choices in this episode. Daryl follows her and protects her along the way.

The ending is so happy. Oh my god. Anyway.

Thank you for humoring me. Happy Stilliversary!! 😭🥺❤️

#the walking dead #bethyl #daryl dixon #beth greene #daryl x beth #4.12 #still #stilliversary #❤️❤️❤️

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years ago

Text

It's tradition! (Oc monster story)

The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air as the five new kids to Florence middle school met up with some of the 7th graders.

These five had been transferred to the new school after their old one had been shut down due to small class sizes and since they had joined up in the middle of October, they hadn't been part of the yearly ritual that apparently ALL sixth graders had to go though.

The ritual sounded dumb and made up to all five of the new boys, but they were eager to fit in feeling like outsiders in the much bigger school. Said ritual involved two things:

The first part was spending the night at the old Spencer mansion. All five boys had camped out in the woods over night so they weren't too worried about that. It was the second part that they weren't looking forward to.

See, the only thing the boys would be allowed to wear while spending the night was their shirts, socks, sneakers.... and 2 thick diapers that would be taped and signed at the waist to make sure there was no cheating.

They WERE free of course not to do it, but it was made clear they should expect to be ignored and met with disdain for not doing something that countless boys in the past had done, the girl's of course had their own ritual.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the big babies for the night." Tony, 7th grade leader said, with amusement in his voice. "I was starting to wonder if you were gonna chicken out."

"Like heck we would!" Matt huffed, being the smallest of the group he was used to lots of teasing and didn't handle it well.

"Easy Matt." David, the tallest and strongest of the group said, putting a hand on his cousins shoulder.

With their parents being so close it often fell to David to rein him in, or failing at that keep him from getting his butt kicked.

The other three didn't have much to say, and just stood there waiting to be told what to do next.

It lived in the basement of the mansion though it considered all of it to be it's home, and every year it found itself forced to hide as the insolent humans invaded for one night a year. It only allowed this to happened because it's existence relied on human's not knowing it was here and it made do with stalking those who came into it's home alone.

The 20-30 young males that would waddle around it's home was too many for it to hunt and be sure it could take care of, but as the doors opened and mere five entered the creature laughed to itself. A lesson would be taught, and it would be a dark one indeed. it would finish these boys off as it had others, they would be left for others to find, to scare them from coming to it's home ever again. Sliding along the floor and looking like a dark green slime it oozed it's way into a heating duct.

the hunt was on.

The boys were all too embarrassed to stay close together once inside, and agreed to go off and fine somewhere to sleep for the night on their own. they had a cooler with them they left in the living room of the old place, filled with bottles of milk and some snacks (the 7th graders weren't heartless after all)

Knowing that other boys had spent the night none of them were scared of any dangers and only David and Matt headed off together, David refusing to let the shorty out of his sight.

Mike had never been the most athletic of kids and had a bit of pudge on him, and as he waddled down the hall of the east side on the ground floor he had to keep reaching back and tugging out a diaper wedgie. The boys had been given flashlight since the place hadn't been on the grid for ages and Mike played the light on the walls now wondering if maybe he should of asked to got with David and Matt as he chewed his bottom lip. His brown hair was mating up despite the chill since unknown to the others, he still had to sleep with a night light.

"There's nothing to fear.. it's gonna be ok." Mike was repeating to himself softly as he spotted what looked like a old guest room.

the bed looked okish, though there was some sort of a shiny green sheet on it that seemed to dance in the light of his flashlight.

raising a eyebrow he moved in for a closer look, reaching out with a hand when the so called sheet came to life and lunged at him, wrapping around his face before he could scream and then it was pressing itself in his ears and..and..

The creature smirked, this one had been almost too easy and it found itself hoping the others would put up at least a little bit of more of a fight.

As the now nearly mindless human babbled and drooled, the creature took notice he was already soiling himself and moved on, there was still more prey to be found.

Travis had picked the upper east side and barely bothered with his flashlight. he was using to pitch black room and besides, more starlight shone in though the windows here. super lanky he had to actually keep reaching down to tug his diapers up, almost wishing they had down more tape.

"wouldn't that be just my luck, the stupid thing fall's off on it's own but I'm labeled a cheater." Travis muttered, before going to walk into what looked like a old game room.

he'd only taken a few steps though before shrieking and brushing at his normally dirty blond hair, as it was coated with spider webs he hadn't spotted and he was totally terrified of spiders.

Cursing and swearing, and positive he could feel them in his hair he took off running for the central stair case and was in such a panic he didn't see Lance until he'd almost run into the cue-ball.

"Hey! what's wrong?! I heard you yelling!" the wanna be wrestle asked, though his figure left much to be desired for his chosen field.

"Freaking spider's man! a ton of them! they're all in my hair an-" Travis was ranting and wiping at his hair.

"Dude relax, you got them all." Lance said, shining his light on Travis head then adding. "Sheesh, just spiders? You almost made me wet myself!"

Travis went to say something snarky when he realized that his own diaper was in fact damp and just shut up, hoping Lance wouldn't notice.

"..maybe splitting up wasn't a good idea. come on, let's go find Mike and the three of us can hang out. don't want anymore spider's to attack you." Lance teased and started down the stairs.

Travis just huffed and glared till Lance called back.

"Come on soggy butt!"

"...I hate that guy."

The two boys walked down the way Mike had come and though they called his name he didn't answer, something that had both of them on edge.

they could hear a gentle babbling like a baby would make but in the end they smelled Mike before they saw him.

He was still in the bedroom where unknown to the boys he'd been attacked and was laying on his back, babbling and drooling and trying in vain to get his foot up to his mouth.

"Uhhh Mike? Buddy? Yooou ok?" Travis asked, holding his nose and moving in to check on the little butter ball.

Shining his light on Mike's face, they could see his eyes were glazed over and Travis turned to Lance.

"Do you think he had a magic mushroom or something?"

"Who the hell is gonna sell shrooms to a 11 year old, and where would he get the money?" Lance pointed out."Maybe he just hit his head or something.Come on, help me get him to the living room, we can ask the 7th graders for help."

It watched with interest as two of the prey helped a fallen one, they couldn't of known there was no help for their fallen friend but it followed them, going along the ceiling silently and would let then reach the end of the hall before strike, giving one of them a porting chance to get outside.

With each of them supporting Mike, it was slow going but they were making it, till just as they were reaching the end of the hallways something out of a horror movie dropped down in front of them.

Travis dropped his side of Mike and took off running, any bravo he'd once had ending up in his diaper as he was again wetting himself as he ran as fast as he could, looking for somewhere to hide.

he did happen to look over his shoulder and saw the slime monster wrap itself around Lance's head, ignoring his attempts to peel it off and seemingly toying with him and he stumbled back and forth before slumping to the floor.

getting to a room at the end of the hall, Travis opened it and slammed the door behind him, though before the door had closed he'd heard two things.

the sound of Lance filling his diapers and a monstrous laughing.

The two brain drained ex prey's gurgled and babbled to each other, clearly not bothered but the smell they were making and harmless enough.

The creature thought about what to do next. already two of it's prey was gone, and a third knew of it, and was terrified. It could go after the other two, having already noted where they were and let this one fall into a false sense of security but then again it might make it outside.

choice made it went into the vents once again and headed towards the scared one.

Travis was curled up in the corner of the room, a old library and of course it didn't have any windows in it.rooting around for something to defend himself with he'd grabbed the biggest and heaviest book he could find and waited for the ..whatever the hell that thing was to come and get him.

"This isn't happening. this isn't real. you're just having a nightmare.." Travis mewed to himself, trying to calm his breathing and it was almost working.

till the thing flowed out of a vent in the floor, laughing as it rushed toward him. With nothing to lose Travis launched the book at the monster and it simply passed though it, and made the beast laugh harder.

All he could do was scream as loud as he could before it was on him, draining his brain and making anther permanent diaper filling moron.

"Hey David, did you heard that?" Matt asked, tilting his head as David made them a make shift bed out of blankets and pillows.

"I didn't hear anything and neither did you. Look just be good, stay by me and try not to be a pain in the ass for ONCE in your life." the bigger boy sighed.

though his back was turned to him, David knew that Matt was sticking his tongue out and flipping him off at the moment and wondered if maybe he shouldn't just give the brat a good old fashioned spanking.

the crinkling around his hips reminded him why such a thing would be pointless, and so he just got back to work.

they were in a landry room of sorts and while Matt had complained about not snagging a bedroom David had been correct in assuming they'd find enough clean bedding to fashion a comfy bed for the two.

"I'm borrrrred!" Matt declared, rocking on his heels and semi shaking his diaper butt, out of all them he was the one most used to diapers having been in bed time diapers till half way though grade five.

"well I'm sorry, but they didn't exactly let us bring game boys in." David snapped, finishing up with the bed and standing back to look his work over. "Well, what do yo-"

he had started to ask then yelped and jumped as Matt swatted his diapered ass.

"Ya did real good..heh..did I make you wet?" Matt asked, smirking and winking.

"Keep going brat and they'll never find the body." David growled, then as a wet farting sound was heard he asked with a look of amusement on his face. "..Matt did I just make you crap yourself?!"

"S-Shut up! it's not funny!" Matt huffed even as he squatted down, balling up his fists and pushing.

"Awww such a good widdle diaper dumper." David teased and patted Matt's head then easily caught the punch the brat went to though. "Watch it short stack, or you'll be getting a poopie butt spanking."

"T-That's not fairrrrr!" Matt wailed and plopped on his butt, kicking his feet and having a fit even as he kept pooping.

The creature paused as it came into the landry room, it could of sworn it hadn't attacked either of these two yet but the sounds and smells coming from one of them would beg to differ.

It had been some time since it's had a chance at multiple prey so maybe it had just lost count in it's excitement.

either way there was still one brain left to drain of that sweet sweet intellect and it saw no point in putting it off any longer.

Matt was to busy bawling like a big baby to notice the approach of the monster at first and David was too busy leaning down and taunting the little stinker to notice it at all.

it had come up from a floor drain and was rapidly heading for David and Matt honestly tried to warn him, but all he could do was point and try to sound the words.

"Awww, whats wrong BABY Matt?" David taunted.

"Mo..mo..mo.."

"Awww, are you trying to ask for momm-" David would never get to finish his sentence as the ooze monster wrapped itself around his head and went to work.

the landry room had had it's own grid and so the lights were on, meaning that Matt could watch as parts of the ..the THING reached into his cousins forehead.

shutting his eyes and wetting his diaper Matt rocked back and forth, hearing more farting and the sound of David messing himself and then falling to the bed he'd made.

opening his eyes and thumb in his mouth, and drool trailing down his chin Matt saw the slime monster in front of him, but it seemed ..uncertain.

figuring sucking up was the way to go, Matt tried his 'I'm so cute you can't be mad' smiles and tried to talk, but he was so scared the words came out in a babble much like David's now were.

It seemed satisfied with his efforts however and oozed away, going back down the pipe and leaving Matt alone with his now brainless cousin.

"it..it must of thought it already got me!" Matt said..then let out a nervous laugh.

he was gonna make it out of this, he'd go and get the FUCK out of hear, screw everyone outside watching, and just go and get the cops, the army, the 82nd airborne and have them kill whatever the hell that thing was.

He did toy with trying to get David out with him, but he was clearly a lost cause and likewise the other boys had either already been attacked or it was going after them and that meant he had cover.

was it selfish? Yeah, but he wasn't about to be monster food!

getting to his feet best he could, he took off running as fast as his little legs and filled diapers would let him, going for the exit.

With all five of the boys drained, the creature was content to go to sleep and let them be found in the morning, or it would of been had it not detected the sounds of running

none of the prey should be able to run in their current states and all at once it realized that it had been tricked.

fury filled it and it raced to cut the last of the prey off, erupting from a vent in the entrance hallway and wrapping itself around the last prey's head, taking more from him then it had the others. they would at least be able to rebuild their minds in 10, 20 years but this one! this one had tried to trick it and would be a mindless pants shitter for the rest of his life.

Sliding away back to it's resting place, the creature was pleased with itself.

By the time the boys were found in the morning, no one could really figure out exactly just WHAT had happened. the diaper tradition was of course know to most locals, but no one had ever been found like THIS before.

Doctors ran tests and in the end the best thing anyone could figure out, was all five boys had been scared so badly their minds had just shut down.

No charges were pressed since the boys had willingly gone into the house but after that the tradition had been put to a end, and the door's to the mansion had been nailed shut to keep kids out.

Of course the creature wasn't bothered by the shut doors, it had other ways of getting out and whenever it got hungry enough, it was willing to travel to feed, it's preferred course now being diaper boys.

So take this as a warning to all of you goo goo gaga baby butts, be careful what you wear when you go to sleep..and Sweet dreams~

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