#you just need to walk faster say people to person with broken foot

[nuka-rockit]

"you just need to organize your tasks" say people to person with chronic bad-at-organizing disease

[ink-asunder]

I'm just obsessed with how poorly athletes recover. (Context: I'm watching Pit Babe and they're all like "oh you're so fit; you'll heal faster than a normal person!") Not fucking true, in my experience. Like, the only athletes I really talk to anymore are the ones getting antibiotics infused for a month in the infusion unit, and the way these people talk just blows me away. Like. The way they talk about their bodies. The way that chronic exertion breaks down the body because no one knows how to fucking rest in this country. And they're lucky if they're even self-aware about feeling dysphoric about being sick, but even then, they have no fucking idea how to advocate for themselves. You mean to tell me that you have a bone infection because you broke your foot once, and one of your toes is necrotizing, and the doctor told you to just let the toe self-amputate slowly and painfully over two months (which never ended up happening) and you didn't even get a second opinion?? You didn't even question them a little bit?

And then almost every single one of them both aspires to return to their athletic activities, yet they all talk like their life is over just because they have one (1) broken foot. Like they can't *fathom* not being able to do martial arts anymore over one minor injury. I personally don't get why they can't, but even if they can't, it's weird that they feel like they have no quality of life now. Bruh, you're literally gonna recover. You're gonna be able to walk again 100% fine. What are you talking about.

And to that I usually say, "Oh that's cool. I've been getting a chemo drug here since I was 14. I never got to do any of that stuff ever. And now my spine is completely deteriorating, probably because of the chemo drug ."

AND THEY ALWAYS, without fail, give me the "oh you poor thing" talk. The patronizing, coddling, infantilizing shit every disabled person (especially ones disabled from childhood) get to hear. I do this to myself and it's like kind of narcissistic and unsympathetic to go "cool, I have it worse." But like. You're still a fucking healthie. You'll fucking live.

And yeah, when it comes to "the chronic wear and tear of athletics" you can always say "oh, well if you KNOW what you're doing and you KNOW what your body needs, then that won't happen to you." But like?? I really think everyone needs a shot of the chronic wasting disease humble pie at this point. I think everyone deserves to wreck their bodies. Imagine having the privilege to wreck your body over a sport instead of a job or iatrogenesis? When I was still well enough to do some exercise, I rode horses in a sport bra and let myself freeze after working out because I preferred that to cool-down exercises.

I'm not being held accountable for that. So why should they?

[ragingbookdragon]

She's A Bird! She's A Plane! She's...Spiderwoman?

Justice League x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: IDK where this came from but I was watching ITSV, so...there's that. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“This is your fault,” Barry griped, hacking away at the glowing fauna with the makeshift machete—in reality it was just a really big stick that had a really sharp rock tied to the end. “I told you our trajectory was off and what did you do? You said, ‘I’m Hal Jordan, the greatest pilot in the world. Watch my big head crash us on an alien planet where our central battery gets displaced during the impromptu crash land and thrown miles from our position’.”

“Do you want some cheese with all that whine, Bar?” Hal asked, an unimpressed scowl on his face as he illuminated their footpath. “It’s not my fault the orbital windspeeds were faster than the sensors picked up on. Blame the tech, not me.”

“That sounds like you’re just trying to pass off the blame,” he shot back, swiping down at another vine that wriggled like a dying snake and spat out fluorescent blue liquid on the broken end. “Y’know? Like you do best?”

“Seriously, find a better thing to do than complain, Flash. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than blaming each other.”

“Each other? I didn’t do anything! This was all you!” Barry spun on Hal and glared at him.

They glowered at each other when a clicking sound echoed above them and they both jumped a foot in the air, spinning back-to-back as they looked around in every direction, up and down and side to side.

“What the hell was that?” Hal worried.

“I don’t know,” Barry replied, just as concerned. “It sounded like clacking.”

“That did not sound like a chicken.”

“Clacking, Hal, not clucking.”

“Same thing,” he retorted, lifting his arm in the air, shining a bright green light amongst the glowing red treetops. A bunch of branches, neon red leaves and purple flowers, a darting limb—a darting limb?

Hal shifted the light back, jolting Barry’s shoulder in the process. “What is it?”

“There’s something above us,” he whispered, watching with cautious eyes as something shifted on the main branch of the tree, the outline of a dark head coming out, just enough to catch the edge of their bright gold eye. “It’s watching us.”

The something shifted back into cover, the clacking sounding once more, then the treetop ruffled, dropping red and purple fauna on the two men as it jumped to another tree. Hal tried to follow it, but it was too fast for his eyes; the only thing it left behind though was a string of long white webbing, hanging down from the blue tree branch. And Hal being the idiot he was, decided to touch it to see if he could figure out what it was, and only managed to get it all over his hands.

He pouted, trying to pull apart his hands. “It’s sticky.”

Barry let out a long and heavy sigh, placing one hand at the small of his best friend’s back, the other holding the machete. “Come on, dumb-dumb. Let’s go find that thing again.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of how the survivors live? I know we’re white, but I didn’t think we were that white.�� He was half tempted to see if he could gnaw the webbing with his teeth. “This shit isn’t coming off.”

“Here,” Barry said, vibrating his hand as fast as he could and to Hal’s surprise, the webbing cut, falling to the ground.

“Thanks!” he chirped, holding his arm out again to shine his ring. “What do you think that thing was?”

“Alien lifeform.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The alien world?”

“I’ve just about had it with you,” Barry growled, cutting through another rough patch of vines. As the path cleared, they stepped out of the heavily forested area to see one older tree in the center of the circle. It rested atop what looked like an ancient cave, the rocks crumbling around the front.

“I’m not going in there,” Hal immediately stated. “You couldn’t pay me all the money the US owes in debt to go in there. Fuck that.”

“You’re such a big baby,” Barry chuckled, walking up to the entrance; it was about the twelve feet high and ten feet wide, big enough for the two of them to walk in. “Come on. It went in here.”

“Barry, please! Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Hal begged. “You should be more worried!”

“Hal, if it wanted to hurt us, it would’ve done so already.”

“Or maybe it’s luring us to our deaths!” he countered, even though he was following Barry into the cave.

There was more webbing along the walls of the cave, swirling around patterns of purple and blue. The farther they walked the stickier it got, and at one point, they were struggling to lift their feet off the cave floor to take the next step.

“Christ, what is this stuff?” Hal asked and Barry bent down, poking at the webbing.

“It’s like spider webbing, but stickier and stronger.” He vibrated his hand to dislodge it from the strings, then did it around Hal’s feet. “You might wanna float for now. I’ll vibrate my feet to keep from sticking.”

“Good idea,” Hal agreed, lifting a few inches off the ground. “Do you think the lifeform is intelligent?”

“Intelligent us or just intelligent?”

“Intelligent us.”

“Anything’s possible. It seemed sentient so I believe it’s probably intelligent.”

“What do you define as intelligent, Barry?” Hal questioned and the forensic scientist hummed.

“If it’s capable of calculus it’s intelligent.”

“Really? If it can do math homework you think it’s worthy?”

“Calculus is a difficult skill. You need the ability to think and to calculate in order to solve and understand it. That requires sentience and intellige—oh shit!” Barry’s words tipped into a yelp as the ground gave way beneath him and he sunk down, shouting all the way.

Hal’s eyes shot wide, and he flew down the hole. “Barry!” he yelled. “Barry where are—oof!” he collided with more of the webbing, this time enough that the entire left side of his body was stuck to it.

“Hal! You okay!”

He looked over, seeing Barry stuck on his back. “I’m okay? You!”

Barry nodded. “I’ve been better. What is this?” they looked around the best they could. Spiral upon spiral of iridescent webbings surrounded them, stuck to the walls for support, them in the center.

Hal’s eyes narrowed and he glowered at Barry. “I fucking told you it was luring us here.”

“Shut u—”

The clacking sounded above them and with panic, they both turned their eyes to the ceiling, watching as the alien lowered down near them. It looked like a human, two arms and two legs, no extra limbs at all. Hell, it didn’t even look like an alien spider; it just looked like a normal human, gazing down at them with two normal eyes. That was until it opened all six of its golden eyes and stared down at them with it’s mouth open, two one-inch fangs protruding from where the canines were.

“Ohshitohshitohshit,” Hal whispered, about to shit himself in terror.

The alien reached for Barry, and he watched as his friend sunk back into the webbing from the outstretched hand. Except he couldn’t go any farther and turned his head to the side, quietly whimpering as the long black claws touched his cheek.

“Barry!” Hal hissed and blue eyes met his, then,

“Friends!” the alien shouted. “New friends for Rhiezheveir to have!”

Their expressions pinched in confusion as the being started to twirl in the air, one hand holding to the webbing they’d lowered down on, the other elegantly flowing in the air.

“You can understand us?” Barry wondered and they looked down.

“Yes!” leaning down, they got in his face, and he saw the rather feminine looking features. “Rhiezheveir saw the ship come in the sky and land! I waited until you left it to search! The ship’s memory functions in this language!” she seemed rather excited. “Rhiezheveir found the core you were looking for! I did not know how to get you here to return it!”

She climbed up the webbing, disappearing quickly only to reappear with the ship’s core under her free arm. “Here it is! Rhiezheveir brought it back!”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Hal inquired and she lowered down next to his face, hers right in front of his.

“Saying what?”

“Rhieza-something-reservoir?”

“Rhiezheveir?” she offered, and he nodded.

“Yeah, that.”

“Rhiezheveir is my name! I am named after the brightest star in the Kosialaran sky!”

“In the what sky?” Barry asked.

“Kosialaran!” she answered. “This planet’s name! My planet!”

“Are there more of you?” Hal questioned. “You’re the only intelligent life we’ve seen besides bloodthirsty beats trying to eat us.”

“Yes, I saw you fight with the Erqurcus. They are not nice lizards. They like to bite Rhiezheveir when she tries to feed them.”

“Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?” Barry piped up. “Sometimes you use first too.”

“In Aissaveed culture, we commonly refer to ourselves in the third, though I learned from watching, that humans use first. Rhiezheveir is learning to mix them.” She smiled and the clacking sounded again.

Hal tried to look at her. “What is that noise?”

Bending down to his face again, she flashed her fangs. “They click when I get excited!”

Barry cleared his throat. “Um, Rhiezheveir, are there more of your kind in the area?”

“Not here. On the other side of the planet there is. Rhiezheveir has travelled far to get away from her people’s hunters. They do not like me.”

“How come?”

“Rhiezheveir broke tradition. Refused to be royal consort. Fled and hid here.” She let the tips of her toes touch the delicate silk webbing and then crouched, the web bouncing lightly with the weight. “Rhiezheveir is not welcome amongst her people anymore. I am alone now.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Barry murmured, even empathetical of the alien. “You’re here all alone?”

“Yes! Though not anymore!” she patted both Hal and Barry’s thighs. “New friends!”

Hal wiggled. “I hate to break it to you, Reservoir, but—”

“Rhiezheveir,” she corrected, and he sighed.

“Rhiezheveir. But we have to get back to our own planet. We have responsibilities.”

Barry nodded. “We need to get back to our ship.” he tugged against the webbing. “Can you help us get out of this? We’re stuck.”

“Of course!” she chirped, starting to snip the webbing with her claws.

“Wait a second!” Hal exclaimed. “There’s nothing underneath meAHHHHH!” the last thread snapped, and Hal tumbled down the dark and dimly lit cavern.

“Rhiezheveir!” Barry yelled. “What are you doing!”

She held up a finger in a wait motion, then a wet plop sounded, followed by, “NEVERMIND! I’M OKAY! THIS WATER SMELLS FUNNY THOUGH!”

The Speedster sighed. “Oh, there’s water down there.”

She looked at Barry oddly. “Rhiezheveir would not try to kill her new friends. That is not nice.” Snipping the lines around him, she held on as he fell and she let out a squeal as they dropped, though as Barry hit the water, she merely held on to the web in her hand, just above the body.

Barry broke the water and spit out the remaining in his mouth. “Water tastes funny too.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Rhiezheveir, how do we get out of here?”

She smiled. “Follow me!” she shot out her free hand and another string of webbing left her hand, attaching to the roof of the cavern; letting go with her other hand, she swung like a monkey on a vine, then repeated the process, alternating her hands. And boy she was fast. Barry and Hal had to freehand like they were in the Olympics to keep up, and even then, it wasn’t fast enough.

***

By the time they made it back to the ship, their hair and clothes had dried off. They noticed that she didn’t like to be on the ground and crawled along the tree limbs above them. Bioluminescent flower petals shook from the branches every time she moved, creating an aura of beautiful red and purple around them.

Barry took the battery from her and slot it back into place, watching as they ship powered back to life; he walked over to Hal who was sitting in the first seat. “Everything good?”

Hal nodded. “A few nicks here and there, but the engine and all other vital systems are good.” He looked up. “We should be good to go once the power levels reach operational.”

The Speedster smiled and turned to her. “Well, Rhiezheveir, this is goodbye.”

She merely blinked. “What do you mean goodbye? I am coming with you.”

“There’s not enough room,” Hal said, and she smiled, those fangs clacking as she raised her arms.

“I will make myself small!” her dark body illuminated in a bright gold, then the shape began to shrink and shift, eight long legs appearing out of the main shape that had evolved into two orb like shapes. When the glow dispersed, she raised her front legs and waved, then skittered up Barry’s leg and body to his head.

“I have a spider on my head.” He said dumbly. “I have an alien spider nuzzling my hair.” Barry looked at Hal. “There’s a spider in my hair.”

Hal shrugged. “So long as it stays on you, we’re good.” He peered at her. “Rhiezheveir, can you understand us in there?”

She waved her front legs as Barry climbed into the ship, sitting on his seat; she scurried down his head to his shoulder and sat there, perfectly balanced, her beady golden eyes occasionally blinking.

“That’s a big ass spider,” Hal noted.

“She reminds me of a Goliath birdeater.”

“A what now?”

“Goliath birdeater. It’s the biggest spider on earth.” He examined her. “But her legs are so long…like a huntsman spiders’. I wonder if she’s got the abilities of different species?”

Barry reached up, holding out his hand and she climbed on it, letting him lower her to his lap. “Can you sit there while we take off, Rhiezheveir? Once were out of atmosphere, you can wander around the cockpit.”

All she merely did was raise her front legs and wave them once more before settling on his thighs, curling her legs in contently; he smiled down at her, then the realization of what bringing her meant and he blurted out, “I have no idea how we’re going to explain this to the others.”

“What do you mean?” Hal questioned.

Barry looked at him. “The crash land will be easy—you’re an idiot.” He ignored Hal’s outcry of offense and gestured to her. “How do we explain we picked up a shapeshifting spider…lady?”

Hal shrugged. “Hostile environment navigated by a peaceful intelligent lifeform who managed to be a stowaway?”

“I like the first half up until ‘who’.” Barry met his gaze. “She was threatened by her own people and begged to help her flee?”

The pilot pursed his lips. “We’ll need to use her reasoning for leaving. The whole royal consort business.”

“Sounds good.” Barry glanced down at her. “Rhiezheveir, does that sound—oh…I think she’s asleep.”

Hal looked down to Barry’s lap and sure enough, the hand-sized spider wasn’t moving on his legs other than the occasional leg twitch. “Sure she didn’t die?”

“Hal!” Barry hissed. “Don’t be mean!” he gently scratched her the top of her abdomen with his pointer finger.

“You’ve pack-bonded with a spider,” Hal noted. “Nice job, buddy.”

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t find her friendly.”

“She’s a spider.”

“She’s an alien who turns into a spider.” He watched the planet get smaller and smaller as they exited the orbit and into the stars. “Bruce isn’t going to be happy that we brought an alien back.”

“I think the pressing matter is that we have no idea what she eats.”

“Bugs?”

“You said she was an alien who turns into a spider, Bar. What’s she going to eat when she’s human…like?”

“Meat?” Barry wiggled his fingers in Hal’s side. “Man-flesh.”

Hal choked on a laugh, batting at the hand against his ribs. “Stop that.” He steered the ship through a debrief field with ease. “We’d better figure out or she’ll eat somebody in the middle of a fight.”

“In a fight?” Barry asked.

Hal shot him a look. “We didn’t take this Lady Spider with us just to get her off her home-world. She’s gonna help out somewhere.” He shrugged. “Might as well stick her in the Justice League.”

Barry’s lips pulled satisfactory. “That’s…actually a good idea.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to show her to Bruce. You know he doesn’t like spiders?”

“He’s scared of spiders?”

“I didn’t say he was scared of them, Hal. He just doesn’t like them. I think creepy crawlies make his skin crawl.”

Hal shoved him in the arm. “Don’t call her creepy crawly. She’s a pretty spider.”

“What happened to making fun of her?” Barry smirked. “You pack-bonded with the pretty alien spider lady, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Hal griped, going still when she shifted and crawled up the dash of the ship and stared out the window; she turned, waving her front legs. “Yeah Rhiezheveir? What is it?”

She pointed to the stars, drawing her front legs in downward arcs as if to say, “Wow!”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Barry murmured and she did it again; he looked curiously at her. “Hey Rhiezheveir, you can understand us, right?”

She waved.

“Okay. Since you can’t talk to us until we get back, how about this—front legs up is ‘yes’ and front legs down is ‘no’. Do you understand?”

She lifted her legs up and he grinned.

“Good. Now, do you like warm places?”

Her legs went up, then down.

“Sort of?”

Up.

“You like warm and cool weather?”

Up.

“We’re going back to our world. There’re many habitats there. Some really hot and really cold. Others are in the middle.” He explained, watching her almost nod. “We’ll be meeting the group Hal and I work with on another ship. You’ll have to stay there for the time being. Is that okay?”

She lifted her legs up.

Hal leaned over. “Rhiezheveir, are you a spider that sometimes turns into a lady?”

Her legs stayed down.

“So, you’re a lady that sometimes turns into a spider?”

Up.

“Nice. Can you fight?”

Up and waving wildly.

Barry looked at Hal then back to her. “You said you refused the position of royal consort. Were you chosen because you could fight?”

Up.

“So, you escaped because you didn’t want to be forced into that position?”

Still up.

Barry nodded solemnly. “Rest assured, Rhiezheveir, you won’t be forced into anything like that on Earth. You’ll be free and able to live openly and not in hiding.”

Her legs stilled in the air, then the curled and Hal muttered, “I think you overwhelmed her emotionally.”

The Speedster cupped the spider in his hands, letting her crawl back into his lap. “Sorry, Rhiezheveir. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She merely snuggled into his lap and stayed there.

“Rhiezheveir,” Hal started. “Your name is really complicated for humans to say. While I think it would be a good identity for a superhero life, I think you should find an easier name for people to use.”

She waved a single leg, signaling she was listening.

“How about (Y/N)?”

Barry smiled. “Ooo, I like (Y/N). That’s a pretty name.”

She raised her front legs and waved them excitedly.

“I think Rhiezheveir likes it too.” He scratched her torso. “Welcome to the Justice League (Y/N). You’re gonna fit in perfectly.”

(Y/N) waved her front legs, rearing up on her back.

“HOLY FUCK LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HER FANGS!” Hal shouted.

[writing-in-april]

Kid.

Poe Dameron x Female Reader

Summary: Reader can’t get Poe to stop calling her kid so she’s tries a new method of getting him to stop.

A/N: Hey guys!!! Here’s my sixth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April— I had a really fun time writing this all out lol- I feel like it’s very telling when reading this what I like lol 😂 I hope y’all enjoy it and I’m always looking for feedback or really anything my followers want to talk about- you can send me an ask here- I’d love to hear from y’all 🥰

Warnings: 18+, Age Gap (never specified specifically how large it is), Reader overreacts just a bit, Sub Poe, Smut, Hate fucking, Dry fucking, Oral sex (M receiving), Choking, Edging, Unprotected sex, Creampie

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

Your nerves were alight with frustration and annoyance, your jaw clenched tight enough to give you a small pressure headache. Poe seemed to always know exactly how to push your buttons perfectly. He knew- he knew how you felt about the nickname he had chosen for you. You didn’t know why he continued to call you that, maybe it was just to push your buttons because he thought it was funny or worse because he actually thought of you as inferior to him.

Despite your arguing thoughts trying to tell you that Poe is only doing this to get under your skin, you couldn’t help but get angry every time he said it. You knew he respected all of the younger pilots, maybe he just thought you weren’t as skilled- even though he had complimented your flying skills many times.

You had asked him not to use the nickname over a million times it seemed. It boiled your blood to hear it, making you feel like he didn’t respect you fully because you were somewhat younger than him.

“Hey Kid!” He shouted out as you retreated away from him in pure anger. It didn’t really matter what you had been arguing about, your anger boiled over as soon as you heard the nickname out of his mouth.

You had both just returned from a mission together along with the rest of your squadron that Poe commanded. You were exhausted and Poe just had to get under your nerves at the prime time.

Stomping from the hangar all the way to your rooms was somewhat of a long walk, you encountered people but you brushed them off as quickly as you could. There was no doubt that Poe was hot on your heels, probably in an attempt to make amends. Though every time he promised that he wouldn’t say it again- he of course broke that promise.

Both of your rooms were in the exact same hallway on base, one reserved for upper personnel. If he cared to acknowledge it he’d notice that you’re not the kid he claims that you are, you’re upper personal for fucks sake. You stomped off down the hallway not caring if he followed you or not, you’d just shut the door in his face if he tried to continue.

He did in fact follow you as you suspected, not for the purpose of going to his own room right next to yours. He followed you to continue the argument.

“Come on don’t walk away I just want to talk!” You scoffed, he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to argue. Paying him no mind you pressed the key card in far too hard to woosh open the door to your room.

Somehow Poe managed to scoot in through the door frame just as you were going to close it. Your fists clenched in anger, not wanting to turn to look at him as it would only make the fire in your belly rage more.

“Well- Kid you gonna tell me why you stomped away from me?” He was hunched over breathing heavily from chasing you down. You wanted to stomp your foot in indignation over frustration due to the fact that he absolutely did know why you had stomped away from him. You whipped around to face him finally, annoyed that he was in your room now- just another thing to add to the list of grievances.

“Stop calling me Kid!” He chuckled in response to your fury, just like he always did, acting like your anger was completely unreasonable. Maybe it was, but you were tired of him going against what you had specifically requested.

He was about to retort after he finished chuckling, his mouth opening in a way that was obviously going to become a sassy remark.

You grabbed the front of his flight suit in anger and pushed him onto the cot you slept on every night. Anger was radiating through you, with no intention of abating, you needed to get rid of it somehow.

Instead of screaming like you normally would have you did something you never thought you’d have the guts to do, you kissed him. The kiss wasn’t filled with sweetness, it was hot, heavy, and full of your frustration. He definitely tried to overpower the kiss, yet eventually accepted defeat- maybe for the first time in his life.

“Do you want this? I won’t be gentle.” You asked while holding the front of his flight suit, bringing his face close to yours and holding eye contact. He nodded with a gulp and you released your grip on his orange suit. Nonchalantly you then asked while moving to close the door to your room, “What’s your safe word?”

“I use the color system.” You nodded in confirmation, coming back after shutting the door so you could escape prying eyes. When you moved to straddle his hips you could see his eyes darken further, pupils blown wide in lust.

To start your journey to ruining him you rested your still clothed center to rest right over his growing bulge. Starting with slow light movements seemed to frustrate him, you didn’t care. He wanted to contest your dominance over him, but not too much as he did not move to touch you, waiting for your permission. The only time he allowed himself to move was when you captured his lips into a bruising kiss, bringing his face up to meet yours by your fingers tangled into his inky curls.

He whimpered underneath you as you ground your hips harder into his bulge. There were still many layers of clothing you had yet to take off, you could still firmly feel how hard he was through them all. He tried to reach up to grab your hips, but you didn’t let him get very far. Instead of letting him touch you you took both of his hands and pinned them above his head.

“Maybe I would let you touch me if you behaved.” The sneer in your voice made Poe flinch away and whimper again, though he did not say anything. You then tried to goad him into speaking, “Are you going to apologize to me?”

Despite his pathetic little whimpers that showed you his submission to you he still refused to budge. His head shook back and forth, telling you no to your request. In response to his refusal you scoffed and didn’t give him the satisfaction of a stinging retort for now. Instead you started to grind into him harder with a faster pace that had him close to falling apart in his flight suit.

When you could feel him starting to approach his release, his cock twitching in the flight suit, your movements stopped abruptly. You had to remove one of your hands from where you had them pinned on the cot to slap it over his mouth when a broken cry that would have been too loud tried to escape.

You chuckled darkly at his desperate look, his eyes watering a little, “If you would just apologize I would let you finish.”

He tried to make a noise, but underneath the pressure of your hand it barely made a sound. When I removed my hand his bratty attitude re-emerged, “I won’t apologize.”

His indignation made your jaw tick, he must have been looking for a punishment at this point. It was now your job to make sure you gave him one that he wouldn’t enjoy, otherwise it wouldn’t be a punishment.

You released his hands so you could begin to undress him, his flight suit had a small wet spot on it from his precum. It made you wonder how soaked his boxers were underneath. They were just as wet as you expected. You run your fingers around the spot, making his hips buck a little which you stopped by pushing them down with your other hand.

When you then peeled his boxers off of him along with his flight suit you decided to give him a taste of what he wanted, planning on ripping it away again just as he was about to finish.

You shuffled your body down his until your mouth was resting over his cock, it looked painful to you. Flushed a deep red with precum leaking down his shaft and was hot and heavy in your hands. You didn’t have any plans on letting him finish anytime soon, you couldn’t imagine he could stand it much longer before breaking and giving you an apology.

His fingers twitched at his side when you blew cool air onto his length, you sneered again, “If you touch me I’ll stop.”

He did follow that direction at least, leaving his hands by his side and fisting the sheets. As a slight reward or even more of a punishment from a different perspective you let him feel your mouth around him. Suckling the tip slightly made his toes curl, but he still did not say anything. Maybe he would be harder to break then you thought.

You began to work on him with more effort, using your mouth and hands wrapped around his length to send him close to the edge again.

“Please!” He begged as you took him as far back into your throat as you could, gagging a little each time it hit the back of your throat.

You pulled off him for a second to answer his plea, “You know what to say if you want to cum.”

His head flopped back at your words and a groan of frustration came out. You worked him up to the edge two more times- he still wouldn’t break even when you were goading him while sucking on his balls and stroking his cock.

You were absolutely soaked, your own arousal getting frustrating. Damn him and his stubbornness you thought. Fuck it- maybe he’d break when he was finally inside you.

In your anger you ripped the zipper of your flight suit as you tore it off of your own body. You weren’t looking forward to explaining why you needed a new one to Leia tomorrow. For now you were focused on getting rid of the ache between your thighs while punishing Poe further.

A collective groan came out of the two of you as you sunk down on his cock slowly. You were so wet from just the anticipation that you could have taken him perhaps a bit faster, but the wrecked look on his face was even better. You relished in his desperation as you began to create a steady pace, still not as fast as he probably wanted you to go. He did follow at least one of your rules, keeping his hands fisted in his sheets. It made his knuckles lighten from how hard he was gripping them, showing how desperate he was to not let you win.

He was nearing his breaking point, you were sure of that. His whimpers had gotten even higher pitched when you started to swivel your hips in a certain way. Tears were also prickling at the corners of his eyes almost spilling down his tanned cheeks that were slick with sweat. He still had some fight in him though apparently, he was resilient as steel.

“Go faster- Kid.” Oh- he definitely knew what he was doing. He stoked your anger on purpose, finding it funny that you got so riled up over a simple nickname.

In your anger your hand then wrapped around his throat and with each bounce you spoke to punctuate your point, “Don’t.” “Call.” “Me.” “Kid.”

His legs were shaking hard underneath you, thoroughly overwhelmed by your all encompassing touch. You had complete control over him and his finish. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to finally apologize but couldn’t get the words out. Deciding to tease him further and test his limits a bit by saying, “Are you finally going to apologize?”

There was a slight pause in conversation while you continued to keep your pace going, waiting patiently for a response. Your own orgasm was beginning to rise within you. You could finish now, torturing him even further by feeling you spasm around him in pleasure, but you wanted to finish together if possible so you tried to be as patient as possible. Just when you were about to prompt him again he finally found the words you had been looking for.

“Yes! I- I won’t callll you kid again, I’m sorry!” The apology that you had been waiting for was so broken that it took you a second for you to understand what he had said. Your hips slowed their movements for a moment to then lean forward while tightening the hold you had on his neck slighting. You dragged your tongue from the bottom of his neck to the bottom of his ear before then whispering into his ear, “Thank you, you can cum now- and touch me.”

You clenched around him when his hands gripped your hips hard, using them as leverage to begin to thrust into you hard. Your own orgasm washed over you when after the last few thrusts he rubbed your clit before filling you.

After you had both rode out your releases you slumped forward onto Poe, trying to catch your breath. His fingers moved to slowly trace up your spine, which helped relax you.

“Hopefully I won’t have to teach you a lesson about what nicknames you can use on me again.” You breathed out with a chuckle, moving your own hand to trace his skin.

“I don’t know- I kinda liked the lesson you taught me.” A cheeky smirk was most definitely on his face as he said those words, which made you lightly tap his shoulder.

You clenched around his softening cock that was still inside you as retaliation, causing him to groan. You started to roll your hips at a languid pace, just so you could hear his whimpers again, this time from being still slightly sensitive from his first release. His cock was becoming hard inside you again, almost ready to go for a second round, “Do I need to teach you another lesson?”

You did have to admit though that the nickname was growing on you, not that you were going to tell Poe that anytime soon.

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (I will keep trying to fix this 😡). New tag lists (no one has asked to be on these yet)

Oscar Isaac Characters: Poe Dameron/SW:

[you-did-well-moon]

Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate

Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff

Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader

Word count:  2,994

A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!

TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.

You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty. 

You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words. 

“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”

How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.  

The end of the month was in two weeks. 

You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building. 

Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings. 

Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.

“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”

You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago. 

Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago. 

Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.

You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest. 

You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you. 

“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut. 

Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly. 

“Fuck you”.

Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place. 

Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue. 

It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.

“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.

 Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.

You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant. 

You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways. 

A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something. 

Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one. 

A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.

You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran. 

He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished  with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.  

“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?” 

You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.

“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.

“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face. 

You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck. 

You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today. 

“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.

After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.

There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears. 

The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor. 

A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.

“Hey bud, you need some help there?”

The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.

“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.

You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.

With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.

“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest. 

As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”. 

You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.

With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt. 

You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down. 

With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand. 

You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones. 

You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.

You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart. 

You felt warm. 

After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest. 

You were scared of it. 

With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you. 

“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind. 

You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered. 

You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away. 

“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand. 

You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone. 

With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away. 

He couldn’t.  

Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting. 

“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.

At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs. 

He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself. 

“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.  

[theglitterypages]

Title: Secret Life of Levi Ackerman Part 1

Part Two

Pairings: Levi x fem! Reader

Summary: When Levi noticed that his brats are all tired, hungry some are even injured, he decided to tell them to retreat and brought them to a village nearby and a big secret was revealed.

Word Count: 2000+

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry if this is a bad one. There will be errors ahead so bear with me guys, I will edit it soon once I have the time.

••••••

“Levi, where are we going?" Hanji asked when Levi ordered everyone to retreat, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean and Connie was puzzled too but they didn't choose to question the Captain. They trust the man and they know Levi wouldn't get them killed purposely.

Levi sighed as he looked back to Hanji, exhaustion was evident in his face. “We need to rest, there's a village nearby and we'll have some break there.” Levi plainly answered. The captain looked back at the kids and gestured them to follow, “Go faster, brats.” he smirked.

••••

You were busy cooking for your lunch when you heard horses neigh nearby. You carefully walked to the living room to look outside your window to see what was happening and you gasped when you saw a man outside your house.

You immediately opened the door just to see 6 other people that doesn't seem familiar to you, most of them were young and they were petting their horses. “Lev...I didn't know you'll go home today.” you looked at Levi and he smiled apologetically as he looked behind him, gesturing the kids behind. “These brats are probably hungry now, two of them are wounded too. Sorry if I came home like this.” your gaze landed at the kids and at the woman smiling at you.

“Well, I was just cooking. Leave the horses here and go inside.” you called them out.

Even if they are clueless, the whole squad came inside. It was a decent looking home, not that big but not small either, just enough for a family of four or five. “Sit down, all of you. Wait for me here.” Levi ordered. The kids sat down while Hanji curiously looked around her, puzzled of why Levi brought them here.

Levi followed you to the kitchen and hugged you from behind, you giggled quietly and turned to face him.

“You look tired.” you pointed out.

“Sorry, we just lost almost half of—” you cut him off by pressing your fingers in his lips, you wouldn't want to heart it because you know that talking about it breaks Levi even more. “Shh, I know. For now, give the kids some bread while I cook. I'll treat their wounds too.” you kissed his cheek and pulled away from him so you could see if the food is cooking well.

“This was not what I've promised you when we got married.” Levi whispered. It didn't look like he was saying it to you, he's actually saying it to himself.

The two of you has been married for three years, you met him when he got accidentally wounded while fighting the titans, your cousin, Erwin went home with an injured Levi and because of your knowledge in medicine you were the one who treated Levi's wounds.

Every time you'll visit Erwin, you'll be seeing Levi too, at first he would just greet you and would leave after that but when you visited Erwin one day and he was nowhere to be found, Levi accompanied you all day, he wasn't talkative but he's a nice guy, people just tend to be scared of the way he stares and the way he speaks because he's so straightforward.

The two of you became friends, got closer and closer until romance blooms amidst all of the ongoing chaos. After 6 months, he asked Erwin if he could marry you, your parents are long gone and the only family you have is Erwin.

Erwin had no complain about you and Levi that's why the two of you got married immediately, it was an intimate ceremony, only those who are close enough were allowed to witness the wedding and it was more than fine to you, the most important part is you married the love of your life. That was more than enough.

For three years, the only time you could see Levi is during weekends, the time where he would leave his squad temporarily to go home to you and if there are not much expeditions outside the wall he comes home with Erwin's permission during weekdays.

Of course, there are times where he couldn't even go home to you but you understand, really, Erwin talked to you about marrying Levi, a man who's serving in Survey Corps would be tough, especially every time that they're outside the walls there's no guarantee that they'll come back alive but you still said yes, that is how much you love Levi and you've always trust him and his promise that he'll do his best to come home.

“But I know the man I married, Levi. I know that you can only go home to me during weekends and it's completely fine, I know there's a chance you'll go home with broken hand or foot, it scares the shit out of me but as I've said, I know who I married.” you cupped his face and pressed your lips against his, a silent reminder that despite o everything happened or anything that would happen, you will stay with him.

Levi close his eyes as he snaked his arms on your waist and pulled you closer as if he's holding onto his life. He kissed you back passionately and when he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours.“What did I do to deserve a woman like you?” he smiled bitterly, you let out a chuckle and combed his hair using your fingers.

“We all deserve some time to rest from the cruel world, my love. I will be your rest.”

Levi didn't move, he just stared into your eyes as he holds you close to his chest, in this chaos, you're the only one that brings him peace, the only one who motivates him to stay alive so he could come home, you're the one that makes him feel normal and every time that he'll come home to you, it feels like he's a normal man, a normal husband.

And he's starting to hate himself because he realized how ridiculous the whole set up was, he loves you so much and yet you couldn't even have him by your side all the time, that fact breaks his heart and that fact also motivates him to work harder so he could eliminate the titans so he could finally put his weapons down and be with you.

That's what he wanted, a peaceful life with you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lev. Go and give these breads to the kids for Pete's sake.”

Hanji looked at the kids beside her, they all look exhausted and mortified because they witnessed deaths again but it's the consequence of serving in Survey Corps, no one should hesitate to sacrifice their lives because every deaths would be an aid to humanity.

The silence was deafening, it was a silent mourning of the kids who saw their comrades die and Hanji gave them the silence that they need, they're still new to this and she understands that they'll always be shaken up.

“Oi, here's some bread and water. How's the arm, Connie and Jean?"

“It hurts but we're fine Captain." the two answered. Levi sat across from the group and he sensed that everyone has been itching to ask the questions that had formed in their head but there's one person who looks to be more excited to know everything that's why Levi called out that person. “Okay, you have questions, Eren.” he began, Eren looked up, shocked that Levi has deduced that he wanted to ask something.

He's just curious but if Levi wouldn't want to answer he would respect his decision, anyway.

“W-Who is she?" He stammered.

“I'm Y/N...” You answered as you sat beside Levi who immediately put his arms around you, in return, you let your hand rest in his thigh, slowly caressing it with your hand, it's a thing that you do that he loves so bad.

“She's my wife...” he announced. He has to say it in the most simple way, there's no need to be dramatic because their reaction would be dramatic anyway.

Hanji's jaw literally dropped on the floor while the kids were all frozen.

“WAIT...WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?! SHE'S—OH MY GOD YOU'RE COMMANDER ERWIN'S COUSIN HOLY FUCK THAT'S WHY YOU'RE FAMILIAR OH MY GOD!”

You laughed loudly at Hanji's reaction, she's the first one to talk because the kids seems to not know what to say perhaps they're just trying to weigh things about the whole situation. It would be really shocking but it's not like Levi purposely hid the fact that he's married, you know that he's just trying to make your life as normal as it was before marrying him but marrying a man Levi would never be normal.

“Well, you know that Lev's not the type of person to talk about himself, right?” Hanji put a hand on her chest as she tried processing the information she heard just now. Now she realized how Levi would always disappear after expeditions, how he would have some things to ‘take care of’ during weekends, the way Erwin would remind him to come back alive, it was because Levi has someone waiting for him and it is you.

“Ah, I remember, who's injured?” you changed the topic as you remember Levi talking about two wounded kids.

“Us.” Connie and Jean answered in unison.

You smiled and stood up to look for your first aid kit, it's a must to have this considering your husband does come home with wounds, you hated it when he comes home injured but at least he's alive, right? “Lev, can you check if the food is cooked already?” you looked at Levi before sitting between Jean and Connie.When Levi heard your order he didn't complain and just made his way to the kitchen.

Mikasa's mouth gaped open, she doesn't really expect Levi to follow someone's order if it's not Erwin but he obeyed you too quickly to the point that she's wondering if this is the same Levi, the captain.

“What are your names?” You asked as you put a bandage in Connie's arms.

“A-Armin...”

“Mikasa.”

“Connie...”

“Jean.”

“Eren.”

“Ah...Hanji.”

You looked at the girl named Mikasa, she's really pretty but you noticed how her eyes looks so sad her eyes are beautiful but they've become dull her eyes would've been more beautiful if its sparkling because of glee.

And when you looked over at the blonde boy named Armin, the teen immediately blushed before looking down. A small smile made its way across your lips he's really cute.

“Oi, Oi, Oi, why are you blushing, brat?” Levi appeared. His tone was dangerous and Armin's eyes widened as he looked up at the Captain, the poor kid looks so scared that's why you decided to walk towards Levi and pinch him on his waist lightly, “Stop scaring him. He looks so cute and tiny, I want to adopt him, well all of them.” you giggled.

“Unfortunately, I don't want to adopt brats.” Levi snorted as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Shut up, I know you love them. They told ne their names, they're the kids you're talking about.” You exposed him. The thing that most people wouldn't believe about your husband is that he's talkative maybe just because of you but Levi always tell stories whenever he gets home.

Most of the time it would be about his expeditions, you encourage him to tell you everything both good and bad as you don't want Levi to carry the burden alone, he may be called as humanity's strongest soldier but Levi is still a human after all. You want to make it easy for him, let him feel that he's not alone.

You saw how shocked the teens were and you smiled sweetly before placing your hand in Levi's chest.

“Don't mind Levi, he's just embarrassed to admit it but he loves all of you and he's proud of all of you like a dad.”

Levi looked away when the kids sent him a look even Hanji did but he wouldn't have to deny it because he does talk about them whenever he gets home, as much as he hates them for being all loud and messy, he just have to admit that he also loves these kids. Even if they're all brats.

“Tch. The food is ready, let's eat.”

End of Part 1

[light-yaers]

Fools in the Darkness: Chapter Four

Darkling x Reader

Warnings: Death, violence, drugs (Parem), NSFW and sexual content. This content is explicit and 18+ at some points.

A/N: This here is a warning that uploads will slow down after this! But I’ll keep popping in to share teasers and writing updates and so forth. I have a month until my dissertation deadline and I simply can’t keep writing fanfiction instead of my uni work... lmao. Hope you enjoy this, though! The ending is... a lot more than we’ve had, as of yet.

Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 3.9k

Chapter Four

“A storm summoner?” Inej questioned, shocked. “Like the Sun Summoner?” Her eyes lit up tenfold as the name slipped from her lips. You saw the faith in her eyes, the want for something bigger to be out there; a protector; a god; a Sankta.

“I’m no Sankta, Inej,” You replied, furrowing your brows at the way her face dropped. Kaz was looking at her deeply, as if he often did this when she wasn’t looking at him—his face was deep in thought, his sunken and sad eyes swimming with something that you’d seen before—

Longing. A feeling.

“I think he just called me that to make me believe I was part of something bigger,” You continued. Kaz scoffed abruptly, causing you and Inej to jut your gazes onto him.

“He sounds like every powerful man out there. A devil in disguise,” He said it as if he’d dealt with similar people, but the hint of patronisation in his tone is what made you scowl.

“You said it yourself, Brekker—a devil in disguise. I had nothing, no one. No matter how cautious I was, I was looking for something to cling onto—,”

“So, you clung onto the Darkling himself,” He interrupted you, his eyes turning nasty. “And you thought it would go to plan?”

You stood suddenly, your chair clattering to the floor as your hands trembled relentlessly. Kaz’s face dropped, his head tilting upwards to hit your eye. Your face was stern, your jaw stiff, your eyes shooting fire at the Bastard of the Barrel.

Inej rose after you, placing a reassuring hand on your forearm. “Ignore him,” She said softly. “When Kaz doesn’t understand something, he resorts to rudeness, as if that’ll somehow make him understand,” She glanced back at Dirtyhands, shooting him a red stare. He swallowed as his eyes traversed Inej’s face, slowly, intentionally, landing upon every crevice of her smooth skin—skin that had seen so much, done so much for him.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Sit,” He said, softer this time. Inej picked up your chair, and you followed her lead in sitting back down. Her hand never left your arm. Her fingers were delicately laid upon you, so faint that sometimes it felt as if she wasn’t touching you at all. “Please. Continue,” Kaz said. You could hear the change in his voice after Inej’s piercing stare.

You felt that this was more important to Inej than to Kaz. You felt that Kaz only wanted to know how he could somehow profit from this tale, but Inej—she ate up your words as if they were air to her. Trapped in a place as Ketterdam, maybe she simply wanted to know of fights that didn’t happen on her doorstep; that weren’t caused by the knives that littered her body.

You didn’t doubt that she could cause destruction, but you thought you already knew why she did it—

To survive. To live. Not because she wanted to. Not for herself. But for her Dirtyhands, sat right in front of her, tracing the outline of her silken hair wisps and swearing that he didn’t believe in her gods.

You exhaled shakily, dispelling the sudden burst of anger that Kaz had caused you. And then you began again.

The Little Palace, 1 Year Ago

“No Kefta?” Kirigan questioned, as you approached him outside in the courtyard. He stood beside two stallions—one a deep and shining black, the other a gentle brunette. You raised your hand to the brunette stallion, swiping your palm over its soft coat.

He regarded your clothes, the absence of a Kefta, before looking back to your eye. You darted your gaze away from his, not wanting him to divulge your true reasoning.

“It was the blue. Washes me out,” You lied, picking up from the joke he’d made earlier. He didn’t scoff or chuckle this time, however.

“Kefta’s are bulletproof, you know,” He spoke coarsely. “They’re not just for appearance,”

You nodded to yourself, rounding your horse slowly, before slipping one foot into the stirrup and hoisting yourself onto the saddle. You shuffled yourself once, getting comfortable.

“Good thing I have the Darkling escorting me today,” You said, almost bluntly. You didn’t want to bring up the matter of Kefta’s anymore; not just because you felt like an imposter in the Little Palace whenever Grisha walked past you wearing them, but also because of other reasons; the King of Ravka had done nothing for you, or your family.

You didn’t ever wish to don clothes that belonged to him, that were a staple of this place. But you couldn’t say that to Kirigan, not yet. Not until you had a better handle on how he’d react to your harsh words. This was his home, his life—he might take offence to you so publicly rejecting a Grisha tradition.

Kirigan looked to the ground then, a small frown on his face, before quickly hoisting himself onto his black stallion. The two of you left the Little Palace, trotting in silence as an uneasy tension floated between you both.

You ignored his frown, adopting your own involuntarily. As much as you’d thought it would get easier to be here, day by day, it was proving difficult when everyone looked at you like a piece of coal amongst diamonds—apart from Kirigan himself. He looked at you like you were the diamond, worn and tough and strong; indestructible.

You almost didn’t want him looking at you at all, but when you caught yourself slipping, enjoying his company, his chats, his stares; you were just lying to yourself. Kirigan was the only person in the Little Palace that you understood, no matter how small that understanding was. It was the only thing you had to grasp onto.

When the two of you rounded the courtyard, heading out to the vast acres of land surrounding the palace, you couldn’t help but perk up. You were riding moderately, keeping in toe with Kirigan and his horse, but Saints—you wanted to run.

You glanced at Kirigan then, traversing your eyes over his tight jaw, his dark eyes, his blunt lips; and then you clipped your stallion with your boot. It surged forward, neighing loudly, feet galloping faster and faster as Kirigan was soon left behind.

He yelled for you, calling you back, full of worry, but you were travelling too fast to take your eyes off of the field in front of you. You rocketed forward, feeling the strength of the stallion beneath you, the air through your hair, your clothes, the vibrations of the ground below your feet—

Saints, it felt good. You felt free; freer than you’d felt since living a stable life in Kerch with your family, before everything went wrong.

The thud of Kirigan’s horse sounded behind you, approaching quickly as the General came into view at the side of you. You both galloped sternly, neither one faltering. You dared to look at his face, just for a second—his expression had softened, overcome with something that you’d never seen from him before; fear, a worry, a scare.

When before he’d scared you, you now scared him.

You softened your expression upon seeing his face, but you didn’t slow. The silence was no longer tense, but it still weighed on you both. You wanted to say something, you wanted him to speak, but neither did—

Until you finally faced forward once more, guiding your horse onwards and onwards through acres of untouched, green and luscious grass; yours for the fucking taking. That’s when you yelled to the sky, lifting your arms from the reins and allowing your horse to propel you forward, balancing on its back as you indulged in the way the air flowed all over you.

Truly free. Truly felt.

You stayed like that for some time, shutting your eyes for a moment, just to feel everything. When you opened them, Kirigan was still beside you, staring at you unwaveringly—a smile on his lips.

You dismounted in the forest, following Kirigan’s course after your much needed gallop. It was peaceful here, serene, untouched. Since you were young, you’d loved the outdoors. The sounds that surrounded a clearing, coming as if from nowhere. The subtle breeze that flowed through trees, clattering their branches and lifting leaves from the floor. If you could settle anywhere, it would be on a piece of untouched, unclaimed, unruined land.

You were still waiting for him to speak, as the two of you strolled together through the woods. The more you were silent, the more you were afraid of what would leave your mouth if you opened it. You wanted him to break the tension, after such a blunt chat that morning and your abrupt running off.

He cleared his throat once, but you didn’t dare to look at him. “I thought you were running,” He spoke plainly. You let out a huff, feeling relief from the silence being broken.

“I’m not idiotic enough to run when you’re around,” You replied. It was the truth—you would have managed fleeing if Kirigan hadn’t been there to direct Ivan. With each day that passed, it was getting easier to be here, but Kirigan’s deal was already in the back of your mind.

He chuckled slightly. “And if I’m not around?’ He questioned. You looked to him then, meeting his gaze.

“That depends on whether or not you trust me,” You said softly. He regarded you, flicking his eyes over your face, as if looking for any sign of you joking or lying. He couldn’t find anything—because you weren’t.

The corners of his mouth turned up. “If I’m to trust you, then will you trust me in return?”

You grimaced slightly, as his words hit your ears. There was no easy way to say what was the truth. “I have a feeling you already know my answer, General,” You replied. His face didn’t drop, nor did he look away from you. He kept up his small smile, flicking his eyes over you gently.

“No, you wouldn’t trust me,” He said, all-knowing. “But already, I trust you more. Because you didn’t lie,” You glance back at him, ignoring the way his words made your heart pound. Did the General know that you clutched onto his every word? Did he know that, despite your reluctance to trust him, that you wished you would?

“I’m not sure trusting me would be wise for you either, General,” You began, as anxiety bubbled within your gut. “My mother trusted me to keep my sister safe, after they had to leave Kerch. My sister trusted me to get her across the Fjerdan border, and I failed her. You trusted me to stay in the Little Palace, but instead I broke your window,”

He was silent for a moment, pondering his thoughts while your heartbeat was eating you alive.

“It was an impressive jump,” He said. “And an even more impressive landing,”

It was shocking how two sentences stopped the anxiety within you, as if it had never been there in the first place. You sucked in deep breaths and filled your lungs with fresh air, feeling mor invigorated and free than you had in years.

“Why are we here, General?” You asked finally, looking around the forest that surrounded you both. It was quiet and deserted; you were alone with Kirigan once again, this time much further away from others at the Little Palace.

He strode forward, standing before you suddenly. “The first lesson of control is letting go,” He said sternly. “If you want to master your power, then you must first divulge its unpredictability,”

You furrowed your brows, looking down at your hands. They were trembling slightly. “You want me to... intentionally summon a storm that I can’t control?”

“We need to access exactly how much power you possess,” Kirigan confirmed. You shook your head suddenly, feeling far too exposed. You’d summoned storms to protect yourself, to fight against others, to prove your power—but you’d never summoned one outside of immediate danger.

“This is how Morozova created the Fold,” You whispered. “I know a Squaller isn’t the same as a Shadow Summoner, but—,” You continued quickly, glancing up to meet Kirigan’s eyes, swallowing down sudden nerves. “I’ve told you that I don’t know how to use my abilities properly—,”

Kirigan strode forward suddenly, sensing your mass uneasiness. He placed his hands on your shoulders gently, as you allowed his touch to ground you. He furrowed his brows at you softly, flicking his eyes to each of yours.

“I’m here if you can’t hold on,” He said strongly. You sent him a quizzical look, wondering what he meant. “Trust me just this once, even if you don’t trust me afterward,”

You wanted to tell him that this was what happened once, back in Novyi Zem. That you were messing about with your abilities, that you were curious to see how large a storm you could summon. What you’d created had been nothing you’d ever expected or imagined—it had scared you. It had scared your sister, and Nana.

And you never summoned a storm that size again, not even against those druskelle, not even to prove your point against Zoya, or break out of the Little Palace the week before.

You clutched onto Kirigan’s words as he took a few strong steps backwards, his eyes plastered on you all the same. “Just look at me, don’t be afraid of your own strength,” He said lowly. You bit back the anxiety propelling itself up your throat as you brought your hands together, slowly, trembling, before mustering all of your strength—

And summoned the greatest storm that was possible.

It came thick and fast, whipping through the pristine and untouched trees and bushes of the forest. Leaves were stolen from their comfort on the ground, joining the huge circular winds that you’d wrapped around yourself and the General. His eyes danced over your winds as they continued to get stronger and faster, threatening to rip his feet from the ground.

But he stayed solid, he stayed stood, always a few feet in front of you, acting as a reminder that all would be okay. You started to panic when a tree snapped abruptly, its trunk filing into the ravenous winds you’d created. You faltered slightly, your eyes darting around your storm.

“I can’t!” You yelled out, and Kirigan’s gaze whipped back to you. You were breathing heavily, encased in fear at your own doing.

“Control it!” He shouted back. “Feel it in your gut, your entire body—,”

“I can’t!” You screeched, clamping your eyes shut as the eye of the storm began to waver. If you continued this way, the winds would soon whip both you and the General into its path, along with most of the surrounding forest.

You were screaming at yourself to focus, to breathe, but the overwhelming thoughts of destruction and the unknown were too strong, cutting through your mind. Your power was eating you alive—

Until his body pressed into your back, his fingers curling around your slim forearms, helping to steady your wavering and trembling hands. You opened your eyes, immediately flicking your gaze down to the intricate patterns of his black Kefta sleeves.

“Feel it in your gut, feel it here,” Kirigan spoke into your ear, loud and clear. Slowly, he moved one of his hands to your waist, slipping his palm over to land upon your lower torso, over your gut. With every second his hand was pressed upon you, you felt stability; you felt safer. “Think of your sister, think of your family, your life, your wants and desires. Focus your mind,”

Kirigan moved his hand up to your chest then, pressing down sternly over your heart. “Slow your heartrate, feel your power, but do not fear it—you can control it. It sits within you and only you,”

You closed your eyes as he spoke, focusing your mind. You thought of your mother and father and what they did to protect you; you thought of your sister, of Nana, of everyone who you loved so dearly; you thought of Kirigan and his promise—

Your fingers moved instinctively as you imagined the way you wanted the winds to move. The storm began to lessen, as a more focused tunnel of air cascaded around you and the General. Your heartbeat raged in your ears; erratic, anxiety stricken, but decreasing steadily as your fingers commanded the very air, inhaling and exhaling deep and stable breaths.

“Drop the tree trunk to the floor,” He whispered once more. Even with your eyes closed, you could sense where the tree was within your circling storm. You swiped your hand through the air, feeling the weight of the trunk as you commanded the air surrounding it to hover it across the clearing.

With a thud, it dropped to the ground. You separated your hands, and the storm dissipated as fast as you’d summoned it.

A silence flooded through the forest as the winds disappeared, as leaves fluttered back down to the earth from where they came. It was almost beautiful, witnessing the branches of trees reverting back to their original positions. Birds flew overhead, disturbed from the storm, but they were returning to their trees and nests.

In that moment, you felt the air. You felt the power within your veins, your blood, as the fear from your mind had all but left you. When you became aware of Kirigan, arms wrapped around you, hand pressed over your heart, you didn’t shrug him off—you raised your own hand to his, overlaying it atop your heart.

“Can you feel it?” You asked breathily. “My steady heartbeat?” You were riding the adrenaline rush, the happiness from feeling like you now had more of a handle upon what you could create to perceive his closeness as awkward or unnecessary.

He’d stuck to his word. He was there when you felt you couldn’t hold on. He was there for when you faltered, and he’d brought you back.

“Yes,” He replied, still whispering into your ear. His voice made you shiver, his presence never being this strong to you before. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel safer, stronger, more in control. Having him near was something you had to get used to, but this near? Unthinkable; until his arms had wrapped around you and his chest was pressed into your back. “You have huge strength, strength that I’ve never seen a Squaller possess before,”

When you felt your cheeks blushing at his lips to your ear, you finally removed yourself from his grasp. You strode forward, eyes landing upon the snaped tree trunk. It was sat at the edge of the clearing on its side, as if it was placed there intentionally; a bench amongst the wildlife.

“You’ve always thought your powers to be destructive,” Kirigan said, strolling to stand beside you. He looked down at the fallen log with a small smile curled upon his lips. “But look at the good they can create,” He strode past you towards the log, squatting down until he sat atop it.

You didn’t move from where you stood, fighting against the urge to sit beside him. He stared at you, his eyes beaming brightly, but you looked down to his hands—hands that he’d placed upon you. Hands that could control the darkness and manipulate shadows to his will.

“You haven’t shown me your power,” You said abruptly. Kirigan took in a deep breath, clasping his hands together in his lap.

“Not many people wish to see it,” He replied, his smile dropping into a frown. “Curious, aren’t you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling exposed as he regarded you. “Everyone knows of those few strong Grisha. Shadow and Sun summoners, the dark and the light. Rare, yet one is sat right before me,”

He stood slowly, his hands still clasped together. “Are you sure? It’s been known to... haunt people,”

You swallowed, balling your fists, as if punching your way through shadows was possible. “I will trust you again, just this once, not to haunt me for the rest of my days,” You said steadily, hoping that he couldn’t detect the slight hitch in your tone. Saints, you were afraid, but you also trusted the General, sat before you, not to harm you.

It was enough.

He nodded once, before gently unclasping his hands. The darkness came slower than you expected it would, but when it eventually surrounded the forest and the air turned cold, it was all-encompassing—

A black so deep and never-ending that looking into it was like staring at the end of the World. Kirigan disappeared from view as the forest darkened into oblivion, as shadows of a smoke like substance blocked out any hope of light, life, anything.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears, your blood pumping through your body, your organs keeping you alive. It was you, only you, and the pitch black.

Cold, alone, encased in a shadow—

“Kirigan?” You spoke timidly. It felt like your voice should have echoed, but instead the dark absorbed all noise. It ate up your very words.

“Aleksander,” His voice cut through the black suddenly, as a hand reached out to clutch your own. When before there had just been black, Kirigan now stood before you, as if he’d been there the entire time. He raised your hand to his chest, laying your palm over his heart and placing his hand over yours. “Call me Aleksander,” He said, and you heard his voice loud and clear now, encased in this dark abyss.

His eyes were swimming with shadows; so black that you couldn’t stop looking at them.

“Feel my heartbeat,” He spoke once more. You furrowed your brows.

“It’s hardly beating,” You whispered, as a wave of cold descended over your body. Aleksander nodded.

“Death state. All I’m focused on is my power, now,” He replied. You were struck then with the realisation that this man harboured more strength than you’d ever imagined. He could control his power to do whatever bidding he pleased; he could slow his heartrate until he was hovering above literal death, until his focus was so inherent that it was like second nature.

He removed his hand from yours, and as he did the shadows vanished from around you both, scuttling back into whatever corner of Hell they came from. You were too focused on the darkness leaving that you didn’t realise your hand still lay over Aleksander’s heart, until you looked back at him.

You flinched, removing your hand from his chest.

“Scared?” He asked, his voice rough. He swallowed afterwards, his Adam’s apple bobbing uncomfortably within his throat.

“No,” You replied, and you knew it was the truth. It was more beautiful than you’d expected, but you were sure that would change if you ever saw the General use his powers in defence. But for now—the shadows were beautiful—his shadows were beautiful. They were strong. He was strong. “Aleksander,” You finished, letting his name roll over your tongue.

The corners of his mouth tugged up at the sound of his name from your lips.

“Good,” Aleksander said, as the two of you settled once more, feeling the pleasantness of the breeze through the trees and the birds chirping high above your heads.

And as you both relaxed in each other’s presence, without the need for Ravkan rum, you were thinking of the future; you were thinking of the other training sessions where you’d get to be alone with General Aleksander Kirigan of the Second Army.

Tag list: @callitdreamland @bxnnywxtts @elleatrixlestrange @stargirl76 @tartiflvtte @musicconversedance @eprilin @luminous-99 @brynthebulldozer @katedrexel @blackbirddaredevil23 @auggie2000 @not-so-quite-human @notawritergettingtherethough @thinkingth0ts @gabbien @tarkanelima-blog @hxgreeves @super-nannai @epistrofh-twn-ypogeiwn-poihtwn @sonnensplitter @fire-in-her-veinz @capt-brns @lunamyangel @kaqua @amortentiaaaa @little124​

Once again, sorry if your tag doesn’t work!

[fireflykaizoku]

You know I loved the body swap au! Can I please have one for Marco please <3 gn reader if I may

Hiii love! Of course, i hope you like it! ❤ — Now make a wish. — your friends said, waiting for you to blow out the candles. — But remember, you can’t tell us or else it won't come true.

— Okay, okay. — you giggled, closing your eyes thinking about what to wish. You already had many things you wanted, but the only thing missing now was your other half.

“I want to meet my soulmate soon”, you repeated in your head over and over again as you blew out the candles, closing your eyes as if you were trying to manifest it, or at least try to make it happen faster.

Your friends stayed at your place until late talking and imagining how your soulmate was.

— How do you imagine them? — one of your friends asked you.

— Well… I don’t want to be picky, but… — you thought for a second. — Tall and blonde? Smart, respectful and with a good personality. The rest doesn’t matter, I guess.

That night you fell asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow.

You woke up feeling annoyed with the loud noises outside, all the people singing and talking loud that early in the morning got you irritated. Assuming it was one of your neighbors, you opened your eyes ready to jump out of the bed to complain. But it wasn’t your room. The bed was smaller, but the place seemed to be very clean and organized; there was also a desk with an organized pile of papers.

You looked down and also noticed the toned tattooed chest wasn’t yours.

It could only mean one thing.

That man was your soulmate.

When you noticed the porthole and the room started shaking slightly, you realized you were in a ship. And not seeing any uniforms, you assumed it was a pirate ship. That sounded exciting, being with a pirate!

“Well, it was quicker than I was expecting”, you thought. You weren’t complaining, though. But you were surprised knowing your wish came true in such a short time. You wanted to know more about him, so you started looking for things around his room. One of the papers on his desk said “Dr. Marco”. Was your soulmate a doctor? You were fascinated, reading his notes, or trying to, with his handwriting. Sadly, your soulmate didn’t have a mirror in his room.

You opened the bedroom door, looking around to see if anyone was near. The hall was empty, so you ran towards one of the bathrooms, and finally found a small mirror. It was a little broken, but you could still see the reflection very well. He was very handsome, apparently a bit older than you, thin eyebrows and a different hair, that reminded you of a pineapple. It was very cute. He was the way you wished your soulmate to be.

"Tall and blonde? Smart..."

Hearing some steps approaching the door, you left the bathroom quickly.

— Good morning, Marco! — one of the men passing by said, smiling.

You greeted him with a friendly smile, trying to act normal. Before you could think of anything, a few other man were running towards you trying to help another man to walk. You raised an eyebrow at the scene.

— Marco! You need to help him, this dumbass dropped a knife on his foot! — one of them tried to explain.

— Do you think he’ll lose a toe? — another man asked, sounding very desperate.

You started freaking out when you remembered that now youwere the doctor.

— Let’s go to the infirmary. — you said. They needed to have an infirmary, right? So they ran to one of the rooms, and you followed.

They helped the injured man sit on the bed, and surprisingly the man didn’t seem too worried. You and the other men stared at each other, waiting for them to say anything.

— Well, you two can leave now. Thank you. — they nodded and left.

You tried to act like a doctor, getting a paper to write some information about your patient.

— So, what’s your name? — you asked, trying to sound professional.

— What do you mean with that? — his eyes widened. — I’m Thatch! I’m losing blood and you’re the one who gets confused?

— Ah, yes. Sorry, Thatch.

The room went silent when you were trying to remember any first aid tips you had at school, or anything that could help.

— Can you heal me with your devil fruit powers, then?

Devil fruit powers? Your soulmate had devil fruit powers that could cure people? But your question was: could you use them now that you were in his body? You took too long to say anything or show a reaction, so your patient sighed.

— Don’t tell me you finally switched bodies with your soulmate? — he broke the silence.

You nodded, as if you were guilty.

— Marco, that was the worst timing!

— I’m not Marco. I’m (Y/N). — you turned back, trying to find something to clean his wound and maybe fix it somehow. How hard could it be? Maybe the injury wasn’t even that serious.

— I’m going to lose my toe. — Thatch said, dramatically. — Please, let’s call Marco. We have a den den mushi, but don’t let me lose my toe.

You had a short time to find the Captain, which to your surprise, was Edward Newgate. You didn’t even have time to be shocked. In five minutes, you explained the whole situation, begged for a den den mushi and called Marco.

Your soulmate was worried, but was laughing at his crewmate being dramatic in the background. He had a nice calm voice, and was patiently helping you through the phone, how to patch your patient up. When you finished, his toe looked decent and hopefully would get better soon.

— Now we need to switch back, yoi. — he said.

— We need to find a place to meet, and fast. I don’t know what to do if another crewmate of yours get hurt.

Turns out your island wasn’t far from where you were right now, so in a few hours you’d be face to face with your soulmate.

You dreamed about it since you were a child, when your friends kept saying how they imagined their soulmate to be, how the kiss would be, the wedding and the house you two would have.

You spent the next few hours feeling anxious, as if the butterflies in your stomach couldn’t just be quiet. A part of you wondered if you should practice the kiss so everything could go perfect, but soon you dismissed the idea. If you two are soulmates, the kiss will be perfect anyway.

It was almost night, the sky was beautiful with the sunset, and the Moby Dick finally docked. And much to your surprise, your soulmate was there too. Fidgeting with his fingers and walking around in circles and apparently, waiting for you.

— Is that him? — they asked, you nodded. — Oi Marco! — the crewmates screamed, seeing his figure, or well, your figure, from far.

As soon as you left the ship, the walk towards him seemed long, even though you weren’t that far from each other. Not wanting to take any longer, he also started walking in your direction. And finally you were in front of him. After long years, and an even longer day.

You just looked at each other for a minute, he held your hand, squeezing it gently, as to help you, or him, to relax.

Marco was taking too long to make a move, so taking a deep breath and trying to be as brave as ever, your lips found his in a quick move. His eyes widened in surprise for a second, until the doctor finally closed them and enjoyed the moment. The kiss was soft, gentle at first, since the two of you were still shy. Until Marco heated the kiss, pulling you close as if he wanted you two to become one. Your both hands holding his face, the man’s hand on your hips. And of course, the Whitebeard Pirates cheering in the back.

— How did that work so fast yoi? We just met. — he giggled.

— Because you're exactly how I always imagined you to be. — you smiled.

[persimmonteas]

take a good look

4 times you gaze at him + 1 time he gazes at you

fic cowritten with @shinaus​, art by @annypuff​ <3. you can buy mel a coffee and anny a coffee. please support them! their work is banging and i love them 🥺 

pairing: vampire!shinso x f!reader

word count: ~4.5k

genre: slice of life fantasy (a tinge of coffee shop!AU), fluff, mutual pining, smut

cw: dom!shinso, size kink, daddy kink (inspired by toshi anon), praise kink, some degradation (he says slut 3x), fingerfucking, nipple play, choking, hair pulling, mirror sex, mating press, hickies everywhere, a cunt slap, overstimulation

first time: the coffee shop incident 

Of course your favorite coffee shop is swamped. This place is the only good thing about waking up close to dawn, with drinks always better than what your office has to offer and not to mention the pastries they make fresh.

Letting out a small groan, you decide to wait it out in the line and do your best to hurry with your breakfast before heading into work. Thankfully, you always leave yourself with enough time to actually sit and enjoy whatever you decide to buy that day, opting for it over greasy break rooms or stuffy smoking areas. 

Once the warm mug is in hand, you make quick work to try and find your usual spot only to find it occupied. While you won’t act possessive over a public seat of all things, losing the chance to enjoy glancing out the window and munching down your croissant seems to screw with your brain. 

You act without thinking, making a sharp turn to go sit somewhere else only for your knee to make contact with the underside of another table. Shit, you think to yourself, hearing the clatter of their cup. You helplessly watch liquid run down the table and into the person’s lap. 

You expect them to flinch, dart up from the table or, hell, even yell at you for your carelessness. He doesn’t yell at you and you don’t expect to see the colour of the liquid running down the table onto the floor to be red. Blood red. Fuck. A vampire. Hopefully, one who doesn’t eat you for your stupidity.

Just as you feel your heart sinking down to your stomach, your eyes flick up to meet the man whose day you likely ruined. You don’t see a hint of anger on his attractive features. In his defence, it’s probably because he’s busy looking at the way you’re gawking at him.

His unkempt hair and the deep eye bags adorning his sculpted face somehow make him look all the more endearing. It even looks like he’s wearing the smallest hint of eyeliner. Or are his eyes just naturally like that? Hard to tell. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts (and staring session) by him breaking eye contact with you to clean himself up, before rising to his feet and doing the same to the table. It makes you come back down to Earth, and thereby remembering your clownery

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—” you start, but are met with a hand held up in front of your face. You furrow your brows in confusion, having assumed his lack of aggression would mean he’d be more understanding but nope.

“No issue,” he grumbles in response, giving his trousers one last wipe down before swiftly weaving through the others in the coffee shop, flipping his hoodie up and taking his leave. Now, you’re even more confused. 

Sure, you spilled something over him and the table, but you would have bought him another one? Paid for his dry cleaning or something maybe? Yet, off he went, moving so quickly you couldn’t ever hope to catch up to him. Fucking vampires, man, you shake your head.

The confusion eventually fades but not completely. You help one of the baristas doing the last of the clean up before settling into the strange vampire’s seat and letting your mind wander as you eat your breakfast. 

second time: gawking at the gym

It’s a common occurrence for you to make it to the gym right as the rush of 9-5s ends, the perfect time in your opinion. Nobody hogging any of the ellipticals, the water cooler always left unoccupied and nothing but time for you to get through your usual routine.

With this in mind, you can confidently say that nothing out of the ordinary ever happens at the gym. Well, could say. 

Carefully bringing your leg around to meet the other on your way off of the exercise bike, you're momentarily distracted by the sound of a nearby treadmill whirring so much hard that it sounds as though it may break. 

Lifting your towel and water bottle, you make your way over in curiosity. It almost seems as if whoever is on the treadmill moves even faster as you approach. Once you make it there, you’re met with the man who seems to be continuously haunting your surroundings. 

Despite his unruly purple hair in a band and all-black gym attire, vamp man still seems out of place. The athletic wear is a complete change of pace, considering the hoodie and leather jacket he was wearing during your first encounter. 

You rid yourself of any wandering thoughts about the man and focus on him being the reason that the treadmill is about to be on its last legs. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him; the sheer speed of his legs is mindblowing.  And a little ridiculous looking if you’re honest with yourself.

The moment is short lived when he slows to a stop, probably thinking the same thing that you are about the poor machine not being able to last another mile. He looks like he’s barely broken a sweat. Fucking vampires, you repeat to yourself.  

Just your luck, he notices your presence as he dabs the side of his not-even-sweating face with his towel. He begins to smirk at your eyes on him. 

“Little rude to stare, isn’t it?” he wonders aloud, voice much deeper and more luxurious than what you remember. Getting caught fills you with deep embarrassment. You stutter out a quick apology before making your way over to another machine. 

Even with your back facing away from any passing people as you continue your routine, you can practically feel his eyes boring into you.

A few minutes is all it takes for you to turn to check if your suspicions are correct. You’re met with his shameless stare. He’s not even making an attempt to hide his gaze either, leaning on one of the back walls as he watches you, large arms crossed over his broad chest somehow making the skin-tight shirt he’s wearing even tighter. 

This is torture, you think to yourself as you give him a polite smile, only to hear him chuckling at your strained smile.

“What? So you can stare but I can’t?” he tries, fully getting your attention once more as you stop what you’re doing. Sighing and smacking your machine, you come off of your machine and make your way back over to him.

Your confidence about approaching decreases as you see the full height difference between you two. You’re a fair bit smaller than he is. He looms over you even with his back still leaning against the wall.

“If you’re trying to stalk me, you’re doing a bad job. It should be me, after all. I’m the predator,” he lightly mocks you. 

You almost stomp your foot. “I am not stalking you!” you protest. “It isn’t my fault that you apparently go to the same coffee shop and gym as me.” 

He levels you with a delighted look. Humans usually don’t take his teasing well but you seem so much fun.

Throwing an annoyed peace sign at him, you make your way out of the gym.

third time: literally just that scene in the first twilight movie without edward doing donuts in his car into the lot

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out at this time?” The low voice comes from your side, making every muscle in your body suddenly jolt. You just left your friends. Why do creeps seem to have a radar?

Even as you pick up your pace and ignore the question, it only seems to egg him on more. Right as he starts talking to you again, he’s swiftly cut off.

Feeling a small gust of wind at your back despite the calm night, you turn in confusion. Where did the creep go? Your question is answered when you watch him get slammed against the nearest storefront’s shutters. A much taller figure overshadows over him, hand around the creep’s throat. 

Even in the darkness, you can see the purple hair, unruly as ever starting from the collar of his coat. You stride over and pull on Shinso’s coat sleeve in hopes of ceasing his threatening actions—no matter how much the creep deserves the vampire’s ire. After all, you don’t want Shinso to end up with a track record after, like, a century (you’re guessing) without one.

“Shinso,” you say, eyes pleading as you look up at him—unaware of how much he enjoys hearing you so naturally say his name. He meets your stare briefly then rolls his eyes and releases his hold, watching the man scramble away. The chuckle that leaves him at the scene makes you wonder if he’s a sadist. 

Before you can wonder much more, he grips your hand tightly in his own as he leads you farther down the street. The clasp strangely comforting to you despite his freezing skin.

“You really need to stop being so irresponsible,” he tells you, tone almost mocking as he (somehow) takes every right path to your apartment building. There’s no point in questioning how he knows this. After all, for some reason, the world keeps leading you to him in an array of coincidences that are starting to feel less and less coincidental. 

When you let out a scoff, his hand seems to tighten further and you reflexively try to yank your hand away. He just stops in his tracks and turns to face you. There’s a look in his eyes you don’t question, especially since he speaks up before you do. 

“Don’t make me have to watch your every move to keep you out of trouble, I’d like to have a social life too, you know,” he grumbles, before turning to walk away. It leaves you a little dumbfounded to say the least, since you’re not exactly stopping him from having a life. Y’know, with, how totally unplanned these encounters are and all.

fourth time: the confrontation

Apparently, not one thing can be your own anymore. Not that you’re complaining, of course, but the sheer number of coincidences between you and Shinso is extraordinary and only seems to escalate. You keep running into him even in places so busy that you think there’s no chance of running into anybody you know. 

Now that Autumn is in full swing, the nights are colder and the leaves are dappled in brown and red shades. The perfect time to start going on walks through some of the bustling parks you live near. 

You love the scenery, especially the large lake that lies in the middle of your favorite park. As dusk rolls around, you take the chance to get a walk in to enjoy the now barely visible sunlight and to ponder a certain vampire. 

Not even one lap into walking around the lake, you catch sight of the colour that’s been plaguing your thoughts in your peripheral. 

The deep indigo colour is hard to miss, especially when it’s on the head of the vampire you keep running into. Though this time feels a little different since you finally catch him when he’s unaware of you.

Sitting on one of the benches facing the water, he’s wearing his typical hoodie and leather jacket and is holding what looks to be a book. What kind of book a vampire reads is beyond your imagination. 

All you know is that you finally have the opportunity to take the upper hand. Every time you see Shinso, he worms his way out of your questions. Or he leaves in an ominous distinctly vampire fashion.

There’s no reason for him to be everywhere you go, unless ... You want to confirm your hypothesis. 

The plan is simple. You’ll act like you're still out on your casual walk and you’ll walk up to the bench and sit down in a non-suspicious way. You nod to yourself. Perfect, flawless plan. 

It shockingly works … his book must be really good. You get all the way up to the bench without him acknowledging you. Since he’s only taking up one side, you don’t wait for verbal permission to sit down alongside him.

He still makes no indication that he notices you. His eyes never leave the book he has in his hands. You fixate your eyes on the silver ring on his index finger as he flicks through the pages. 

You lean in close and try to keep your smugness about finally startling him from bleeding into your voice when you speak. 

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re conveniently everywhere I go on purpose.”

For the first time ever, he’s the one caught off guard. Shinso flinches away from you and brings his eyes to meet yours. Without his signature smirk or witty comments, he simply gets up to take his leave. 

Well. This certainly isn’t going the way you want.

After your many encounters, you can pick up on his overall mood through his reactions to you. Though, he’s never reacted like this. At least not since the incident at the coffee shop.

The dismissal ignites irritation in you. Why is up to him whether or not you interacted? Taking the opportunity while you still have it, you follow him. 

It isn’t until he passes a large tree just off of the main path that you completely catch up to him. You realize he’ll easily slip away if you don’t move quickly. So you do, hand coming up to hit the tree trunk and essentially blocking his way. 

His eyes widen at you. However, he makes no attempt at escaping. 

“Why do we keep running into each other?” you ask with exasperation, eyes still on him as he moves to lean against the tree. You don’t move your hand, using it to grasp some control of the situation.

“You’re everywhere I go, it doesn’t matter where or when. You’re always there.” The rant is far from needed for him, he knows this already. But, you keep going. 

“What is this? Were we lovers in a past life or something? Do you have some unresolved feelings?” The way you’re rambling makes you impossibly endearing to him. His classic chuckle slipping out stops you in your tracks.

“Nothing of the sort,” he curtly replies. You cross your arms over your chest at his usual demeanor returning. “No such thing as reincarnated soulmates, at least with what I’ve experienced in my lifetime. Though, the feelings department…” As he continues, he leans closer to you. So much so you can almost feel his breath on your face and smell his warm, spicy cologne. 

“Is there a problem if I do have feelings for you?”

You blink at him. What? You don’t think you’ve ever been so caught off guard.. Feelings? Is that what this has all been about? 

Every previous encounter begins to run through your head and you start picking out small things that back up his statement. The lingering stares, teasing words, protective nature. You groan and drag your hands down your face. Man, you didn’t pick up on any of his hints. He must think you’re an idiot. 

Before you can give him an answer, he pushes off the tree, standing over you at full height. Assuming he’s about to attempt to leave once more, you’re surprised to see him turning back in the direction of the bench. When you make no effort to move, he reaches out and pulls you by your coat until his hand is in yours. 

“I’ll take that as not a problem.” A smirk still on his face due to you indirectly feeding his ego. 

Although, now walking beside him, you don’t miss the way his free hand reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. A gesture you recognise as one of his nervous tics. Did you do that to him? You grin at the idea that you make the great vampire feel that way.

“There’s a scooter rental place down by this side of the lake.” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, realising he’s been trying to hold eye contact with you. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you let me take you out on a ride around the lake, I’ll answer any questions you have, deal?”

The way he’s practically bargaining with you makes you want to laugh, but you keep your face neutral as you agree to his offer. Who turns down taking a romantic scooter ride with a hot vampire? Nobody. 

Of course, he takes any opportunity to tease you, so he rents a smaller scooter so you have to cling onto him.

You don’t complain though. How can you as you enjoy feeling his back muscles flex? Not to mention, he keeps his promise and answers any and every question you have about himself or his past. And, wow, he has an interesting and long past. 

As the sky turns dark and drips stars, you’re left with a feeling rising in your chest that you certainly don’t reject and with the hope of meeting him again—on purpose, this time. A planned event seems likely as you clutch the torn-out blank page of his book with his phone number scribbled across it in your fist.

one time: he gazes at you

“Hitoshi. You already have better night vision than me. This is so extra!” you protest, stumbling through the dark apartment as your vampiric boyfriend maneuvers you to ... his room, you think. 

Hitoshi just rubs soothing circles on your back and you just know the fucker is smirking. You hear the light click on. 

“You can take the blindfold off.” 

Tugging the blindfold off, you stare at the new object Hitoshi bought for his room. 

“Baby, this is a mirror.” 

He nods while leaning against his bed, looking infuriatingly pretty per usual. 

“You can’t even see yourself in a mirror. Why?” You arch an eyebrow in Hitoshi’s direction, trying to explain your absolute bafflement at his purchase. 

“In case you’re here and want to check yourself out.”  

You see nothing but innocence plastered on his facial expression but did you trust it? No. 

A mindblowing second later, he stands in front of you, caressing your face with calloused, cold hands. A nice contrast to the sweltering temperature in his room he set for you. Hitoshi leans in to kiss you, gentle but firm. Your hands go up to fist his shirt as he intensifies the kiss. 

He slides his hands down your cheek to stroke your lip and then slowly skims down your body.  

“It would be a great idea to take this off,” he whispers, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You eagerly nod as he strips you out of your shirt and pants. Awareness of his plans finally clicks when he turns you to face the mirror. 

The remark on the tip of your tongue dies when Hitoshi rolls your nipples through the thin lace of your bra. You arch into his touch as he gently pinches and pulls them. God, your panties are already drenched and nipples hard. 

“Fuck,” you moan as Hitoshi slides your panties to the side. Letting you lean against his corded chest, he hitches one of your legs off the floor. 

“Go on, spread yourself open. Let me see how wet your slutty cunt is,” he murmurs into your ear. 

You hard swallow as you spread your glistening lips open for him, strands of your arousal clinging to your fingers when you pull them away. Hitoshi digs his hand into your thigh.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He sounds amused as he uses his other hand to pull your hair by the roots.

“No, no, daddy, I’m sorry,” you apologize and move your hand back to where it belongs. 

“Good girl, look at yourself. Wrecked without even being fucked.” You stare at yourself in the mirror with a half-lidded gaze. He’s right. With your heaving chest and puffy, soaked pussy, you look like you’ve been railed. But instead, you continue to spread open your aching pussy for your fully clothed boyfriend.

“Daddy, daddy, please touch me,” you plead as you grind against his hard bulge, desperate for any kind of friction. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” If you were any more lucid, you’d have smacked Hitoshi for his lilting tease. 

“Aren’t I always a good girl,” you whine, hands clambering at his thighs. 

He chuckles at that, kissing your head before somehow gracefully crumpling to the ground with you in his lap. In a blink, he has you spread out in his lap as he plays with your clit. He slides a thick finger inside your tiny cunny as he grazes your shoulder with his canines.

“Look at you,” he coos. “You look so good like this, my darling little slut.” 

You don’t even have a retort, too enraptured by the sight of Hitoshi fingerfucking your sopping cunt with his invisible hand. The way your cunt opens for him and gapes in the mirror spellbinding for both of you.

You moan as your hips jerk up. There’s not much more he loves than how your lips part and your legs shake at how he strokes his finger inside of you. 

“More,” you beg. How can he resist your dazed expression? 

“Such a needy baby,” he tsks as he scissors you open with another finger. 

Another strum of your clit and pinch of your nipple and you’re gone, eyes squeezing shut. Your juices surely ruining his pants as you writhe in his lap. 

He cradles your cheek and then grips your chin to turn you back to the mirror. 

“Look at yourself, pretty girl. Such a fucked out mess.” 

You gaze at the bruises blooming over your shoulders and down your neck and shudder, pleased. The aftershocks of your orgasm leave you warm as you languidly suck your juices off Hitoshi’s fingers.  

“Toshi!” you squeal as he gently deposits you on his bed and pulls his clothes off. The bed is purely decorative and for you considering he doesn’t sleep. Although, even with a bed, you guys still fuck over every surface in his apartment. 

Your sensitivity protests fall to deaf ears as he bends your knees to your chest. This time, Hitoshi is the one to spread you open. He slaps your cunt and you claw at the sheets. Pumping two fingers slowly in and out of you, he uses his other hand to roughly pull down your bra.

His chapped lips wrapping around your nipple and cold fingers groping your other breast feel overwhelming. Hitoshi cages you in, sucking wet kisses over your tits, leaving you no room to evade his overstimulation as you squirm to get away from his fingers fucking up into you. 

Your sore nipples and cunt get a moment of reprieve as he moves down to concentrate on marking bites all over your plush thighs. Instantly, you miss being full. 

When he passes your empty, clenching cunt for the third time to suck bruises on your inner thighs, you burst. 

“Daddy, please, please, fuck me!” 

Hitoshi trails kisses up your heated skin to your throat, laving over the hickies he left.

“Beautiful,” he croons as he finally positions his tip against your hole and pushes in. The praise and stretch make you whine. He stills as your tiny cunt clenches around him. Your warm, drenched walls wrapping around his cock makes him toss his head back in pleasure. 

“My patient good girl,” he groans, pulling at your nipples. 

“Fuck—more, daddy, more,” you curse as you squirm, your hips rocking up to meet his shallow thrusts. He doesn’t reply and grazes his fangs over your pulse point as he holds your hips down. 

Your breath hitches—and he abruptly pulls back.

“Did my baby think I was going to bite her?” Hitoshi gives you a lazy smirk as he keeps his vexingly slow pace, watching his cock drag in and out of your creaming cunt. 

His large hand wrapping around your neck makes you squeak and suddenly tighten around him. Your favorite necklace. Knowing he’s using an insignificant fraction of his strength to please you makes your eyes roll back as your breath stutters.

“That’s it, cum for me, pretty girl.” Hitoshi starts a punishing pace as he strokes your clit with his free hand. His dark eyes never leave his hand wrapped around your throat, your ravishing lightheaded face and your bouncing tits. Hitoshi’s furrowed expression as he drags his tongue over his canines in concentration makes you whimper. 

You buck against him, gushing around him and crying out his name.

The way you cum so prettily for him has Hitoshi hissing your name in your ear as he thrusts deep into your spasming cunt, chasing his own release. Intertwining his hands with yours, he presses you into the mattress to pin you down. Before long, his orgasm washes over him. 

You gaze contentedly at Hitoshi as he pulls out, feeling empty already—and then you realize. 

“Hitoshi! I swear to god if I look like a grape again,” you threaten as you try to stand up to head to the bathroom. 

You don’t even take a step before he whisks you into his bathroom, laughing at you and kissing your forehead. 

Well. You suppose looking like a grape isn’t that bad.

[astridthevalkyrie]

summer rain: chapter 1

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. 

Chapter 2

Read on FF.net or AO3.

Helloooo, beautiful people. I’m so excited about this story! This is now the official first part of the series, so it’s a prequel to the three oneshots I’ve already posted. If you haven’t read them, no worries, you can read this just fine. If you want to, just know they all have an established relationship and will reference the past, so you may possibly get spoiled. 

I plan for this to have five or so chapters, so buckle up, and as always, happy reading!

You’ve been expecting more.

Maybe that’s the wrong perspective to have. It’s still the military, and it’s still your first day and sure, that’s exciting and all, but you’ve heard stories. People always describe their first day of training as absolutely terrifying, but life-changing. They say that the first day is the day all the baby-faced cadets realize they’re in over their heads. It’s an introduction to the rest of their lives. At least, that’s the case for the people who stay. If one can’t handle a verbal beating, how can they stand any chance against the titans? The first day changes everything.

This, however, isn’t life-changing. It’s not terrifying. It’s rather...dull.

To be fair, the man in front doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it either.

You’ve heard of him, of course you have. Even back within Sina, people talk. A newcomer, a gift from the walls, humanity’s savior. Recently joined the Survey Corp and yet already a lieutenant, a definite shoe-in for the next available section commander position. Apparently his origins are a bit of a mystery, but he’s either the long lost son of a rich merchant or he’s come from outside the walls themselves because it’s just impossible that any common person can possess the skills he’s rumored to have. You’re not sure you believe all of it - apparently he’s so fast that the titans can’t even see him coming? yeah, sure - and yet there’s just something about him that gives off a truly well-earned confident aura. That’s been the most exciting part so far, the chance to see him up close, to see that he’s actually real.

Still, since he began talking, Lieutenant Levi hasn’t once raised his voice. He hasn’t screamed at them all for being the weakest pieces of shit he’s ever seen. He hasn’t even told them about how they’re going to train to become snacks for the titans. It’s disappointing. You’ve been ready to stand your ground, to show you’re made of some tough stuff. That can’t happen when your trainer won’t even bother to strike fear into your heart. Where other people may be relieved, you are mourning this loss of the traditional military experience.

At the very least, he’s not the actual trainer. He started his speech with a complaint that their actual instructor was sick for the day so now he had the absolute pleasure to welcome dozens of new fucking brats to their new home and occupation. His words drip with venom and boredom - clearly, he didn’t join to do any of this. It’s beneath him. All in all, Lieutenant Levi seems rather...arrogant. Maybe it’s well-deserved. But you don’t have to like it.

As he walks up to people at random who shout out their bare identities, the lieutenant snaps out comments that seem like they’re meant to bully rather than to frighten.

“Your posture is shit.”

“Oh wow, I bet the titans will be real scared of your noodle arms.”

“And here I thought these villages would send their best and brightest. Instead they sent you.”

But you’re not one to let things get to you so easily. You have your fist balled to your chest proudly, ready to serve humanity. You’ve fought to get where you are, and now you’re really, actually standing here, with your new comrades besides you, and you couldn’t be more proud. A bright smile settles on your face. You will make the best out of this, no matter your humanity-saving trainer’s dour mood. 

Unfortunately, said humanity-saving trainer takes notice of your smile, and with his gaze locked on his new target, he walks up to you, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“What’s your deal?”

You straighten your back, snap to attention, and look directly ahead as you know is appropriate. “Cadet (F/N) (L/N), sir, from Stohess District!”

His expression doesn’t throw you off, despite it looking like he’s never been so irritated in his life. You know you haven’t done anything wrong (at least not yet), so him looking that pissed off must be an internal issue, nothing to do with you. You’re not any different than any of the other cadets that have introduced themselves.

“Cadet (F/N) (L/N),” he says as though he’s testing out a brand new curse word, with just a hint of mockery in his voice. “I didn’t ask for your name or where you were from. I asked what your deal was.”

Well what in the holy hells is that supposed to mean?

Is what you want to say, but instead you simply furrow your brows and ask curly. “Sir?”

“What the fuck are you so happy about?” he clarifies, annoyance displayed clearly on his face.

Well damn, no need to be so edgy. You aren’t necessarily required to be as serious as everyone else here, and smiling isn’t a crime last time you checked. But this is obviously Lieutenant Levi’s thing, to be snarky and mean, and the sooner you answer, the sooner he’ll move on and find a new victim. “Just happy to be here, sir.”

Your smile stays right where it is.

“Oh, is that it?” He stares at you, deadpan. “You like the thought of being eaten? Does the idea just make your day? Do you fantasize about it at night? Let it lull you to sleep?”

Your smile grows a little strained.

Passion aggression is nothing new. You grew up in Stohess, you’re used to your fair share of cattiness. The lieutenant must take lessons from the tea-sipping high class ladies you’d basically grown up with, because he reminds you of them vividly. Ironic, considering you thought the military would be an escape to a life that was real and included less passive bullshit. It’s that frustration at the similarity that makes your polite mask crack.

The response slips through your lips before you can stop yourself. “No, sir, but last night I did happen to dream of a trainer that was tough enough to handle one of his subordinates smiling.”

You can be catty too. 

The grounds become more silent than they already were. It’s as though everyone is suddenly holding their breath at this new confrontation, just waiting to see what the newly dubbed hope of humanity will do if someone matches his sass. The loud silence is what finally makes you just a smidge nervous - surely, they won’t kick you out on your very first day just because of a smart comment, right?

Impatient and a bit anxious, you finally allow yourself to look directly in his eyes, and you’re suddenly stricken by how grey they are. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone with grey eyes. They’re damn gorgeous. And there’s a hint of...something in them, and to your surprise it’s not rage. He looks calculatingly gleeful, as though he’s just been waiting for someone to say something back to him. He appears cruel and delighted all at once, and the contrast of it along with the striking silver hue is more personality than you’ve ever seen in someone’s eyes before.

It’s a breathtaking sight. You move in just a millionth of a centimeter to get a closer look -

And then he moves, lightning fast, reeling back and swinging his leg around to sweep your legs from under you. With a gasp, you hit the ground hard, head ringing and vision blurring for a few seconds. Your hair, which was loose around your shoulders, flies across your face, some of it entering your mouth. From above you, grey eyes are triumphant, looking down on you as though to ask whether or not that’s tough enough for you. You’d love to answer, but your head is throbbing and you can only let out a pathetic, confused noise that causes titters to spread throughout the room.

What the hell just happened?

You move to get up, but he’s quicker, slamming his foot down on your leg and holding you right where you are. For someone with such a short stature, he looks pretty damn tall from down here. Maybe this is the sight that the titans barely get to see before he slices through them. 

Everyone is watching, even if they’re not turning their hands. This is their entertainment today, and the fool has just made its move. The fool being you, of course. They’re all hungry to see how this will play out.

Your cheeks glow bright with embarrassment, but you are not going to waver. Not on the first day. This is what you wanted, right? You wanted someone who’d be a hardass, who’d strike fear in you and make this a day you’d never forget. Well, Lieutenant Levi is your wish come true.

“Please remove your foot, sir,” you muster as politely as you can, looking up at him icily.

He digs the heel of his shoe into your thigh to make a point, and maybe to see if you’ll cry out in pain. But you look him in his strange grey eyes and you only blink, a small smile returning to your face. Will he kick someone who’s already down?

The moment seems to last forever, and you briefly entertain the fantasy that time is freezing for him as much as it is for you.

And then it’s all broken - he takes his foot off and walks right by you, and the only words you’re spared after being humiliated are, “Tie your hair up, you look ridiculous.”

Thus goes your first meeting with Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

____________________

Dinner that night is filled with chatter. It seems people have found their loyal companions pretty fast, and cliques are forming faster than a speeding bullet. 

Luckily, you don’t need to worry about making friends. Besides the fact that you’re charming and perfect (according to everyone else and definitely not just you), you joined the military with your best friend from childhood. Millie Shackel is every bit the Stohess lady you are, the Rose to your Maria, the jelly to your butter. It’s amazing how much two girls can bond over a shared hate for the lack of activity happening within their stuffy town.

You gnaw at the bread on your plate, squeezing your eyes shut in pain after a particularly hard bite makes the back of your head throb. Not for the first time, you place your hand gingerly on the back of your skull, confirming that there’s no blood pouring out.

“Shouldn’t have mouthed off,” Millie quips from across the table, looking at you amusedly.

“Thanks,” you mutter bitterly, abandoning the bread for now until the soreness goes away. “Didn’t think one stupid comment was going to make him go berserk on me.”

She laughs, confirming you sound every bit as stupid as you feel. “I don’t think that classifies as berserk. That was a superior putting you in your place.”

“Suck-up,” you accuse, eyes narrowed. She only rolls her eyes, and you bring the cup of water to your lips and begin simply guzzling it down when someone claps you on the back, making you choke.

You turn to glare, still coughing up water, at two guys behind you. The one who nearly killed you is tall, with hair the color of bananas, and he’s grinning with no regrets, the shameful bastard. The other one behind him looks apologetic, red-haired with pretty green eyes. He whacks his friend on the arm. “You idiot, you nearly sent her to the infirmary!”

“Oh, come on.” The tall guy slides next to you without permission, slinging an arm around you as though you’re the closest of chums. Back in Stohess, you’d have called for his execution or some shit. “Surely the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi can handle some water going down the wrong way.”

Millie does not look pleased at the intruder, and looks even more grouchy when his friend sits down next to her, albeit keeping a much more respectful distance. When you finally stop coughing violently, you shove the guy’s arm away.

“A-asshole, what the hell’s your problem?” 

“There’s no problem, kid.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “I just wanted to see the balls on you. Guess it was overexaggerated.”

“Obviously,” you snap, “I just talked back, I didn’t hop over the wall and kill a titan.”

“Regardless, good job with the way you handled it. The others are talking about you.”

Millie gives you a stern look. “Hear that? Now we’re the troublemakers.”

You shrug apologetically, and decide to take another crack at eating your bread. This time, it goes down easier, with only a light sting to remind you of the lieutenant’s cruelty. 

“I’m Stephen,” the redhead says with a shy smile, extending his hand. You shake it, then turn your gaze questioningly to the one next to you. He grins cockily, waiting for you to ask. You don’t.

“This is Ricky.” Stephen spoils his fun, sounding exasperated. 

“I assume you two are close.” Millie wrinkles her nose distastefully. You bite back a laugh - there’s that Stohess bitchiness that you love about her.

“We met this morning,” Ricky responds, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The two of you warm up to the boys soon enough. Ricky is rather friendly when he’s not trying to steal your food thinking you won’t notice, and Stephen is downright sweet, his emerald eyes brightening when you ask him where he’s from. He goes off on a ramble about his village which is somewhere smack dab in the middle of the land within Wall Rose. Apparently their local stew is the best there is. You privately disagree; nothing quite tastes like the stew they make in the Orvud District, least of all this bland loaf of bread in your hand.

Ricky, on the other hand, is from Shiganshina, which is apparently an outer city of Wall Maria (so the two boys really had just met that morning). 

“So, I’m guessing it’s the MP for you two?” Ricky says. Millie looks offended.

“That’s not right for you to assume!” She deflates a little. “But yes, it is.”

“Hey.” You shoot her a scowl. “It’s the MP for you. I don’t have any intention of hurrying back to precious Sina.”

Millie gazes at you with her we’ll talk about this later look like she has every time you’ve brought up that you have no intention of returning to fucking Stohess where nothing ever happens. Before she can say anything, Ricky ruffles your hair fondly. 

“Should’ve known you were made of tougher shit than that. So what, you like playing hero?”

You shrug. “No, I just have a sob story. Dead old Dad was a Scout, and then he was titan chowder.”

Stephen looks disturbed at how bluntly you say it, and even Ricky is a bit thrown off. You chuckle at their expressions, waving a hand nonchalantly. “It’s fine, it happened a while ago. I barely remember him. But you know, what better way to connect with your dead dad than to align yourself with the people who let him die, right?”

Ricky’s mouth hangs open as Millie snorts. “You can laugh, she’s making a joke. Get used to her sense of humor, it’s always this bad.”

“I resent that.”

“So you don’t care about getting into the top ten?” Stephen asks carefully - scoping out the competition, you realize.

“Couldn’t give less of a shit,” you answer coolly, “but Millie obviously does.”

“I’ll get into the top ten, it’s not about that.” Millie says confidently, shaking her head as though it’s ridiculous to even imagine that she wouldn’t. After all, you two were raised to be perfect. “The real goal is to be first.”

Ignoring the madly ambitious look in her eyes, you focus on Stephen. “So what is it for you? The Scouts?”

He winces bashfully. “I’m...undecided.”

You laugh out loud, a bit meanly. “What, undecided like you’re going to some top university in Mitras? This is the Training Corp, Stephen, you’re not gonna get to try out a bit of everything. Just choose whether or not you wanna be shipped off to a pointless death, and then you’ve made your decision.”

Stephen frowns, shaking his head. “If it was that simple, then what would be the point of choosing?”

Who in the holy hells asked for his philosophical wisdom, that’s what you want to know. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Ricky, who is chewing on your bread, abandoned after your taste buds just wouldn’t adjust without the butter you were used to. With his mouth full, he answers easily. “Scouts.”

You nod. At least he’s sure.

____________________

“That wasn’t right,” Millie says later, right as you’re about to lie down on a scratchy-looking bed.

“What?”

“What you said to him. He can take his time deciding if he wants to. And it’s just rich, coming from you.”

Your eye twitches in irritation. “You’re just pissed because I don’t wanna take on the most boring job in the world.”

“Grow up,” Millie hisses, venom laced in her voice. “Not everything’s about your entertainment.”

Turning around, you see your best friend with arms crossed, giving you a disapproving look that reminds you of your mother. How odd. What’s that old saying about people becoming what they most hate?

“You’re gonna lecture me now too? Hit me with some philosophy, maybe?” You raise your brow, daring her to say more. “Or do you wanna knock me over again? Maybe I’ll get a concussion this time.”

Millie scoffs, sitting down on the bed she’s claimed. “You know what, it was nice. Seeing someone put you in your place like that.” Her lips quirk under your hard gaze. “Maybe he’ll teach you a thing or two about taking things seriously. Give you some actual goals to achieve.”

The only thing Lieutenant Levi will teach you is to never get distracted by something like how beautiful someone’s eyes look ever again. Even now, you can still picture him, the way he stood in front of you, startled you, threw you off. The way his eyes were filled with more duality than you’d ever expected to see in a person.

Pretending like you didn’t just fantasize about his pretty grey irises, you roll your eyes and flop down on the bed next to her’s. “He’s not gonna teach me jack shit. He’s not even our trainer.”

Millie hums, whether it’s to you or to herself you don’t know, and when you look at her again she’s closed her eyes, clearly wanting to end what was a very long day. It’s not long before you join her.

“(F/N).”

“Yeah?”

“I miss home.”

You don’t, but you keep it to yourself.

The last thing you think of before you fall asleep is how cold the lieutenant had looked when he humiliated you, and your cheeks burn angrily.

____________________

Two weeks pass by in a blur. Once training starts, there’s not much time to think about something like goals, because everyone’s goal is simply living until dinner each night. Avoid getting yelled at, attend classes, study hard, and for the love of all things holy don’t fall on your face when you’re balancing in the practice ODM gear. 

It’s a rush, and you actually find yourself enjoying it. The food still tastes stale and the bed is still too hard to be comfortable, but there’s an easy routine that’s so much more than sit still and look pretty. While you’ve never been a fan of routine, this is different. There’s a purpose to this, even if everyone has different things they’re working towards. Whether they’re trying their best to show what they’re made of and get into the top ten like Millie, or pushing themselves because they get starry-eyed at the thought of saving humanity like Rashad, or simply staying out of trouble to avoid getting meal privileges taken away like Clara, everyone is working towards something, and it’s thrilling to be in the midst of it, to be a part of something meaningful.

You and Ricky are fast friends - he’s surprisingly not too insufferable and he shares your enthusiasm for not taking things so seriously. He also seems like he’s looking for a partner in crime, someone to partake in the oh-so delightful task of slacking off with. Millie is throwing herself into perfecting everything, and Stephen, while not as crazy as she is, is more nervous about losing respectability in front of their trainers and comrades. So the two of you naturally gravitate towards each other, because jeez, at least a few people here need to remember that life still exists outside of all of the training and military drama. 

Today is the first time they’re letting you practice hand-to-hand combat, and while that’s obviously ridiculous since you’re training to fight titans (or just bully people, if you’re joining the MP, but Millie didn’t appreciate you voicing that out loud), it’s also a chance for you to show off a natural talent. 

You’re flexible. And fairly fast too.

Sure, you’re no fighter, but back home you were put into dancing lessons since you were a wee young thing, so you have a much higher tolerance than most of these chumps. You can take a few hard punches here and there, and you’re fluid with your movements, so you’re giving as good as you get. Even combat is a dance in a certain way, it has all the same elements at any rate. Everything comes down to the placement of the feet, and every other body is an accessory that has to be utilized perfectly to do any damage. 

Unfortunately, Ricky’s fought, like actually fought - fucking peasants from Maria and their street fights - and so as much as you put up a damn good fight, he eventually gets you in a hold from behind. You squirm in his grasp as he laughs, digging his fingers in your side. You try to protest, but it’s hard when he’s tickling you so hard.

“H-hey, hey!” Your giggling only gets two octaves louder when Ricky doesn’t let up. “Stop!” Ricky’s laugh mixes in with yours, until he’s lifting you off the ground. Your breathing becomes painful as you struggle against his grip, clawing at his hands. “Ricky! Let go!”

Finally, he decides to show mercy, dropping you. He regrets it pretty soon, though, because then you’re on him quickly, throwing a hard punch against his shoulder. He groans, letting out a pained, “What the hell, (F/N)?” but you’re not done. You grab the collar of his uniform, and tug it forward briefly to give yourself some momentum to shove him back as hard as you can.

Ricky stumbles on his feet, catching himself before he falls at the last second. There’s a determined expression in his eyes, not quite competitive but suddenly eager to show off.

“So, think your dainty dancing is gonna give you the advantage here?” he challenges, balling his fists in front of his chest. You do the same. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but that’s not how that works.”

“Beat me, then. Properly.” You smirk, planting your feet firmly. Let him throw the first punch, you decide. “I have to be on the ground for you to win.”

Ricky’s clever too, knowing you intend to use his size against him. He lowers his arms, extending them as though he’s going to let you take a free shot. Yeah, you’re not that stupid. You stay right where you are, raising an unimpressed brow. The two of you stare each other down, trying your best not to break into smiles. 

“Hit me.”

“Hard pass.”

“Because you know your punch will be too weak?”

“How’s your shoulder, Ricky? Should be feeling fine, since my punch was so weak.”

He barks out a laugh, rolling his shoulder back experimentally. “Like getting hit by a feather.”

Okay, trash talk isn’t part of the combat training that the trainer, Instructor Grumman, has assigned. But it’s still fun, and it’s about a thousand times more preferable than actually fighting. Fighting is painful and pointless. Trash talk is entertaining and doable. 

Still, you hunch your shoulders. If Ricky really won’t move, you’ll come at him with full force. Digging your heel into the ground, you give yourself a boost and run towards him with a burst of speed. His eyes widen, and his first instinct is to hold out his hands to keep you at bay. But with the close proximity and his lanky figure, it won’t be enough. You’ll have him on his back within seconds if you ram into him in one, two -

You don’t make it.

You don’t make it because you’re suddenly flung into the air. You let out a frantic shriek and bring your arms up to shield your face. The ground approaches with dizzying speed and you hit it with a sickening thud. Your hands are suddenly covered in scratches and you open your mouth to furiously ask Ricky what the fuck he was thinking and how did he even do that and did he have to throw you so high -

But when you look up, it’s cold grey eyes that meet you.

Fuck.

The glare that was supposed to be for Ricky is now aimed at him, unadulterated hate coursing through your veins. This is the first time you’ve seen him since that day. Just what in the actual fuck is his problem, and just what had you done to deserve being thrown over his shoulder and up into the sky like a fucking ragdoll? You hadn’t mouthed off this time. Hell, you didn’t even know he was there, so just what the fuck was he punishing you for?

“People who don’t take their training seriously usually end up looking up like this,” he hisses. His glare matches yours, which is ridiculous, because he’s the one who knocked you down. Why is he pissed off? “‘Course, they’re usually looking up at a titan, but we don’t have any of those on hand for me to demonstrate.”

Yeah, he’s far from a titan. Fucking shrimp.

“I was taking my training very seriously, sir,” you say with gritted teeth. “In fact, I would have defeated my opponent had you not stepped in and shot me up in the air.” Your hands would also have significantly fewer bruises. 

He snorts, actually snorts, like you’ve just told a hilarious joke. “A real opponent isn’t going to let you run that mouth of yours before they come at you. You’d be dead in two fucking seconds.”

People are looking now. Everyone remembers that first day, and they all look as though their favorite stage actors have come to town to perform a show. They’re all waiting to see just what the girl who talked back to Lieutenant Levi will do now. A circus trick, perhaps? They don’t know what you’re made of - no one is going to see you crack. And definitely not because of this insufferable man.

“You don’t know that, sir.” You say it with a poisonous smile, wanting him to know that it’s not meant to be respectful. “I might just make it. Maybe I’ll even make it longer than you.”

There are hushed gasps all around you, but the lieutenant pays them no mind. He looks amused, as if you’re just a stupid little girl, an arrogant brat who somehow thinks she’s somehow stronger than him. You’re not an idiot, you know that he’s an excellent soldier who will probably make captain soon, and you’re a lowly cadet who doesn’t even know the basics yet. But once you’re trained up, once you have experience, you think you could take him on, and you could possibly win.

Lieutenant Levi leans down, crouching on his legs before leaning in. He grabs your shoulder harshly, and leans in to whisper in your ear. “I’ll be waiting, (L/N).”

You almost feel respected until he adds, “Waiting to see the day that fucking smile gets wiped off your face.”

With that, he stands up and turns. Turns to walk away. Turns as though you’re not still on the ground. Turns as though your comrades aren’t snickering around you, convinced that he just put you in your place a second time. Turns as though he didn’t just single you out for no damn reason - who even fucking asked him to watch? Who asked him to interfere in your business? Why didn’t anyone else demand his attention? You weren’t the only one goofing off. Hell, there were some people who were actually just lazing around! Where was their punishment?

Furiously, you speak before your brain can catch up.

“Why don’t you fight me, Lieutenant?” you say loudly as you get to your feet.

He stops.

Ricky, who is safely standing a few feet away now, gives you a wide-eyed look, silently asking if you’re brain damaged. But you pay him no mind, your eyes focused on the back of Lieutenant Levi’s head, probably burning a hole in him with your gaze by now. Immediately, the crowd changes sides again, hushed oohs spreading around. It’s not enthusiastic, no one actually believes you’ll triumph, but they are enthusiastic that you have the balls to try.

He turns, giving you the driest expression you’ve ever seen, and you half expect to be dismissed. To be told that you’re too weak to even think about fighting him.

Instead, his stance changes, his fists are raised, and he’s accepted your challenge.

You know you can’t win. That’s not the point. The point is to hold out. For a whole minute, at least. Half a minute. Was twenty seconds too generous?

There’s a small part of you that regrets mouthing off this time.

Lieutenant Levi doesn’t have to waste any time staring you down. He has no need to debate in his head about who should throw the first punch, and nor does he grant you the courtesy of devising a strategy in your head first. In half a second, he’s approaching you with dizzying speed, fist reeled back, about to knock you over for the second time today.

But you’re sick and tired of these fast maneuvers. 

You duck down just as he closes the gap between you, and you go for his legs. He grunts in surprise as you make contact, clutching tightly. It may look pathetic. Your arms are wrapped around his thighs, which you basically just dived into. Your face is squished against his hip. Your feet have left the ground, as you’ve thrown your entire body at him. At this moment, you look absolutely ridiculous.

But it’s worth it.

The lieutenant loses his balance as his feet slip from under him. You can feel him falling down, down, down, with a gasp that is just fucking music to your ears. This is turning out better than you’ve ever hoped for. You’ve proved everyone wrong, even yourself. He’s going to hit the floor, and you’re going to win. You’ll win.

Or at least, you would have.

You’re both hurtling through the air for one glorious moment. Then, recovering from his shock in an instant, Lieutenant Levi spins the two of you in midair, and despite all your efforts and quick calculations, it’s your back that hits the floor again with a loud crack, air knocked clean out of your lungs. You gasp for breath. His knees are digging into your neck, you’re going to choke -

He takes no time to recover. He’s up and on his feet in a second, brushing the nonexistent dirt off his pants, and you’re left panting with your hand on your throat, trying to recover what little dignity you have left as laughter erupts around you. Dizziness and confusion overwhelms you, as does something else. Just a few minutes ago, you’d been looking at him hatefully. Well, you from five minutes ago had no idea what hate was. You could kill him right now, this arrogant, pompous, cruel jerk. 

How dare he look so unperturbed? Like this is just a normal weekday for him?

A hand yanks you up by your hair, nails digging in your scalp painfully. You’re brought to your knees with a heaving gasp. He tugs your head up until you’re looking at him properly, and he has the nerve to smirk. It’s slight - perhaps he knows a full blown smile would look creepy on him - but it’s there, mocking you.

When he speaks, it’s just a little louder than a murmur. “I thought I told you to tie your hair up.”

Then he releases you, and your buckle over in pain. The position literally has you bowing down to him. White hot anger seeps through you. Consumes you. When he starts walking away, his every step thunders in your head, echoing a million times. He had no right. 

No right at all.

It seems like Millie’s wish has come true. You have a goal now. A goal that Lieutenant Levi has so graciously given you.

You’ve decided. No matter what happens, you’re going to get revenge on Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. He’s going to fucking pay.

____________________

You’re pacing out in the field later that day, muttering under your breath, the events from earlier replaying in your head on loop. Millie’s decided to give up on getting you to come study with her, and she’s blatantly refused to participate in your little quest for revenge, citing it as “pointless and foolhardy.” Well, this whole thing is pointless and foolhardy. The Training Corp is just a way to produce more dead bodies every year. But Millie didn’t agree with your line of logic and has left you to brood on your own.

Realistically, what are your options? It’s not an easy task to take on. Humiliating a man who is now so respected and admired will be difficult when his ego soars sky high. Something heavy will be needed to bring it down. Now you have no intention of ruining him for life, nothing major or extremely dangerous. If you did have such an intent, it would’ve been rather simple, just a letter back home to your mother to spread the word of what humanity’s hero was really like. Not that she’s inclined to listen to your demands nowadays, but it’s a doable plan that would work one way or another. But you want to embarrass Lieutenant Levi the exact same way he embarrassed you. You want to knock him flat on his back, while everyone watches, and you want to stand triumphantly as he kneels down to you.

Someone listening to your thoughts right about now would think you were having a vivid sexual fantasy. You groan, slumping down against the bark of a tree. It’s going to be dark soon. You have a curfew that you’re inclined to obey. But you simply can’t go back without thinking of a plan. He deserves it. He deserves to be utterly humiliated. Punishing you is one thing. Beating you in a fight is only natural. 

But holding you up by your hair like you’re one of the fucking spoils of war only to have you kneel to him - that’s sick. He’s sick, and probably perverted. You wonder if he’s always been like that, or if the glory has gone to his head. And you wonder why he’s chosen you to play this game with. Because of a smile and some cheek? That’s no excuse. 

Maybe you’re just the prettiest one here, and he has a crush.

Even the cocky thought can’t distract you enough from your frustration. You can’t possibly beat him. There’s a reason he’s getting so much attention. It’s because he can fight like no other, and it’s all natural talent too. Frankly, you call bullshit, no one is just that good without any practice, but whatever, not the point right now. Who could possibly make you capable enough to beat the lieutenant in a fight? Who could possibly know all his weaknesses? 

Probably only him.

Your eyes widen.

____________________

The sun shines brightly the next day. You feel the warm breeze from the open windows kissing your cheek as you run through the base. Most people passing by pay you no mind, although a few give you questioning looks. But they don’t say anything, probably figuring you’re just a lost newbie who’s inevitably going to get yelled at when you show up late for class. But they’re mistaken, you’re not lost at all. You’re running with purpose. And well, you might be late for class, but it’ll be fine, you know Stephen takes detailed notes that he’s willing to share, and even if he feels like being mean, this is much more important.

Originally, the plan was to go all the way to his office, the path pieced together from directions you’d gotten from Instructor Grumman who believed you were going to apologize (for what?). Hopefully, he won’t actually double check if you went through with it, because you have no intention of apologizing for a single damn thing. Your aim is far more sinister than that. Today is the first step of a plan that will take you a long while, but it’ll pay off eventually. You’re going to achieve your goal. 

That is, if he agrees.

The universe is on your side, because you don’t even need to go all the way to his office. There he is, in the flesh, talking to a blonde man you recognize as Captain Erwin Smith and a woman who you haven’t seen before. Maybe if he hadn’t been so callous yesterday, you’d have waited until he was away from his comrades before approaching him. It’s too late to care about appearances now.

You step up to the three of them and salute, clearing your throat.

He looks at you, and his eyes harden when he sees a smile plastered on your face yet again. 

“Can we help you?” Captain Erwin says gently, but there’s just the slightest edge in his tone. Clearly one is not supposed to just approach this dream team. Your bad.

You open your mouth to answer him, but Lieutenant Levi beats you to it, looking bored as he does. “She’s lost, Erwin. Classes are on the other side of the base,” he says dismissively, waving a hand like he’s swatting away a fly.

“I am not lost. Sir.” Your spine is still straightened and your fist is still balled against your heart. You’re not sacrificing it just yet, but you’re certainly sacrificing your pride here. “I have a request for you. After you pointed out my obvious flaws yesterday, I realized that if I don’t get help, I’m going to fall seriously behind.”

Captain Erwin shoots him an exasperated look, already having figured that his best friend (or whatever they are to each other) must have done something to you. Meanwhile, the woman cackles, nudging the lieutenant’s shoulder. 

“She’s being proactive! You appreciate that, don’t you, Levi?”

He doesn’t answer. His attention is now exclusively on you - you nearly feel special. 

“So what do you need from me, Cadet?” You ignore the way your stomach flip-flops violently from the way he stares at you, the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a light smirk. Something in him clearly enjoys the idea of you needing him for something. Something else to lord over your head, something else for him to be cocky about. “You want me to find someone to give you private lessons?”

“Close,” you say, mustering the brightest and happiest fucking expression you can, “I’d like you to give me private lessons. I want you to train me.”

The lieutenant’s eyes flash upwards. 

Your hair is neatly tied up in a tight bun.

Y’all have no idea how weird it is to write “Lieutenant Levi.” I loathe it.

Also, this is my first time writing in second person. Lots of firsts here, folks.

Please review, your comments are my source of life.

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 7/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: after realising you can have two homes, you rush back to ravka Warnings: none Word count:  3.5K A/N: aaa the last part!! if you’ve read all of the parts I just want to say thank you so much for reading my work, it really means a lot to me! enjoy reading :) PREVIOUS PART  TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting@im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) add yourself to my tag lists here 

The trip back to Ravka seems to take longer than the trip to Ketterdam. You kept taking out the tiny watch you kept in your pocket, only to find out no more than a few minutes had gone by. Saints, couldn’t this boat go any faster?

While it is in the middle of the night, you can’t sleep. There’s too much energy in your body. 

On the ship, only a handful of crew members are awake, needed to make sure you were still heading toward Ravka. The rest of the people on the ship are below decks, probably fast asleep.

You’re pacing the ship, your mind running at an alarmingly speed. You think about the crows, and Ketterdam. And Nikolai and the palace. Would he be angry you left in such a hurry? Would he not accept your apology? Or worse; would he send you away? 

Technically, he could. He’s the king after all. You didn’t think he would do it, but if he wanted to, he could make sure you never set foot in the palace again. What if you traveled back to Os Alta, only to be banned from the city?

You’re so lost in thought, pacing around, you don’t see one of the crew members looking at you. Only when he speaks up, you stop pacing to look at him.

‘Hey! You!’

He’s sweating as he’s pulling on the ropes, to keep the sail in place and making sure you sail toward Os Kervo and don’t end up somewhere in Fjerda.

‘If all you’re gonna do is walk around, you might as well help. Get over here.’ he says.

Without even thinking about it, you walk over to where he’s standing. After all, he was right. You might as well help. And it might take your mind off of everything that’s going on. 

You roll up your sleeves, but keep your hood down to hide your face.

‘Grab this rope.’ he says, extending one of two ropes he’s holding to you. You firmly grip it with two hands. ‘And make sure to pull hard. Can you do that?’ he says. You nod and pull harder. 

Immediately, you feel the pull of the wind, and you plant your feet firmly on the wooden deck. For the rest of the night, you make sure the rope doesn't slip out of your hands. 

You get to talking with the other crew member who asked for your help and when you see the first rays of light and the city of Os Kervo in the distance, you realise you haven’t thought of Ketterdam or Os Alta for hours. 

The crew member tells you you can let go of the rope and once you do, you feel your muscles relax. You hand him back the rope and walk over to the edge of the ship, to look at the city slowly creeping closer.

Despite the early hour, it’s already busy on the docks. Fishermen are walking around, loading and unloading their ships. People are waiting for your ship to arrive, probably welcoming home loved ones. 

‘You ever been to Os Kervo?’

You look to your side and see the crew member. He looks young, about your age. 

‘Once.’ you truthfully say. ‘But only passing through.’

‘And today?’ he says.

‘Also passing through.’ you say.

‘Traveling to?’ he asks.

‘North.’ you say. You didn’t need him to know exactly where you’re going. 

‘Ah.’ he says. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Nina.’ you say, blurting out the first name that comes to mind.

He holds out his hand to you. ‘Nice to meet you, Nina. I hope we see each other again.’ he says.

You shake his hand. ‘Likewise.’ you say, but in your head you hope you never see him again. If he would recognise you, and the story would get out that the queen of Ravka illegally passed the True Sea, it would not be very pretty.

Thankfully, you’ve arrived at the docks and can get off the ship, quickly leaving the crew member behind. 

You walk around the city, trying to find some kind of transport so you could get to Os Alta. Normally you’d hitch a ride on a carriage, but it seems too risky. So instead, you head for the small cottages and farms on the edge of the city.

At the oldest, shabbiest looking farmhouse, you stop. You walk around the property, and spot a horse. 

You walk back to the front door and knock. It takes a while for someone to open. An old lady opens the door to you. 

You smile at her. ‘Good morning, ma’am, sorry to wake you at this hour, but I was wondering if your horse is for sale?’ you ask her. 

‘He’s not.’ she says.

‘That’s a shame.’ you say. ‘Your house looks very old. Couple of broken windows, wood rot. You could fix that with a generous amount of money, get someone from the city to help you out.’

‘I don’t have that kind of money.’ says the old lady, already moving to shut the door, but you plant your foot in front of it.

‘I can pay handsomely for the horse.’ you say. ‘I don’t think you ride anymore, do you?’

‘No, I don’t.’ she says.

You pull out a bag and shake it, making the coins inside clash against each other. 

‘You get this, I get the horse.’ you say. ‘It’s enough to fix your house.’

She eyes you suspiciously. ‘Why would you give me this much money?’ she says.

‘Because I’m in a hurry. And I need a horse.’ you say. 

‘Alright, then.’ she says. ‘Give me that money and you can fetch the horse.’

You hand the bag to her and thank her, heading around the farmhouse to the horse. He looks like a strong, healthy horse. You would be able to ride fast, cover a lot of distance. You thank the lady again, and mount the horse.

Without another look at Os Kervo, you start your journey to the palace. You ride for hours without stopping, constantly ushering your horse to go faster. Luckily, he’s a young one, and he can indeed go very fast. 

But eventually, you have to stop. Not only to give the horse some rest, but also because your stomach had been growling loudly for the past hour. And now that the sun is up, it’s getting hotter and hotter. You can feel it burning in your neck. 

You roll up your sleeves and take off your hood. When you’re riding in the fields, you could allow yourself to be a little less afraid someone might recognise you. And after all, you’re in Ravka now, not Ketterdam. You could only hope word of your absence hadn’t spread too fast throughout the country. 

You leave your horse just outside a small village. After finding a bakery, you buy some bread and water with the money you have left. The village is old and charming. Once you finish your bread, you walk back to your horse. You drink half of your water and give the other half to the horse. You then mount the horse again and take off. 

The sun is still hot in your neck but you don’t slow down. You needed to get to Os Alta as fast as you could. Sweat drips from your forehead to your neck. You still had a long way to go.

Hours later, you finally see the city of Os Alta appearing in the distance. It had since gotten colder, and it’s late in the evening. At the outskirts of the city, you leave your horse and find a place to wash up.

After washing off most of the sweat, you run your fingers through your hair and roll your sleeves down. You pull your hood further down and resume your way on foot. 

Most of Os Alta’s inhabitants had retired to pubs or their homes. A few people still walked the streets, on their way home or loudly singing songs, smelling strongly of alcohol. 

You feel relieved when you see the palace’s gates in the distance. As you approach the guard who is stationed in front of the closed gates, you lower your hood.

The cool air feels more than good after you’d kept your hood on for the biggest part of your journey. You smile as you walk up to the guard.

‘Hi.’ you say. 

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. This makes you frown.

‘Are you going to let me in?’ you say.

Now, he does look at you. It feels a bit weird to have him look you up and down and scan your face. 

‘No, ma’am.’ he eventually says.

‘No?’ you say. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean no, I am not going to let you in.’ he says.

‘Do you know who I am?’ you say, thinking he was new on the job and you hadn’t been introduced to him yet.

‘No, ma’am.’ he says.

‘I’m Y/N.’ you say. ‘Y/N Lantsov, I live at the palace.’

He raises a single eyebrow at your words. ‘And I’m the king.’ he says.

‘You don’t believe me?’ you say. ‘Go and get Nikolai or someone else to confirm it’s me.’

‘King Nikolai isn’t present at the palace at the moment.’ says the guard. ‘And how do I know you’ve not been tailored to look like the queen?’

Your mouth falls open in surprise. You knew Nikolai made sure the guard are well trained, but this seemed like he’d done too good a job at it. 

‘Saints, this is going tot take forever.’ you mumble to yourself.

‘Problem?’ says a familiar voice suddenly behind you.

You turn around and see Nikolai on his horse, accompanied by Zoya, Tamar and Tolya.

‘Nikolai.’ you say gratefully as you walk up to him. 

He smiles at you and holds out his hand for you to take, but Zoya speaks up.

‘Wait.’ she says. ‘How do we know you’re really Y/N? She left in a hurry. You could be anyone pretending to be her.’

You look at her. Zoya did have a point. You turn back to Nikolai, who is still smiling at you.

‘When was our first kiss?’ asks Nikolai.

You feel yourself blushing. Of course he would have to ask a personal question to confirm it really is you. But this felt a little too personal for your taste. 

‘Right before our wedding.’ you say softly. ‘Because I was nervous.’ 

When you look up at Nikolai he’s still smiling down at you. ‘It’s her.’ he confirms. You finally take his hand and mount his horse, sitting behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

The guard finally opens the gates, and you enter the palace grounds. Nikolai is silent as he heads to the stables. He doesn’t even say anything as the two of you get off his horse. 

Even during the entire walk to your shared rooms, Nikolai is quiet. You want to ask him if he’s okay, if he’s okay with you being here, but a part of you tells you he needs this walk to clear his mind. 

Once you get to your rooms and you shut the door behind you, you barely have time to turn around before Nikolai pulls you in his arms. 

You’re a bit taken back by his actions, but are quick to embrace him. You feel how Nikolai drops his head to your shoulder and shuffles even closer to you. You smile as you hold on to Nikolai.

The two of you stand like that for a while. Just holding each other, glad to be reunited. 

When Nikolai pulls back he smiles at you, and finally speaks up. ‘You came back.’ he says.

‘I did.’ you say. ‘Kaz talked some sense into me.’ 

Nikolai blinks in surprise. ‘Kaz Brekker was the one to talk sense into you?’ he says.

‘Yes. He made me realise I can have to homes.’ you say. ‘And we need to talk about that.’

‘Okay.’ says Nikolai, taking your hand and walking you back to the bed to sit down. ‘What exactly do we need to talk about? Because I can think of a few things, but I want to hear you out first.’ 

‘I thought I’d be happy once I got back to Ketterdam.’ you say. ‘And I was, for a while. It felt so good to see all of them again. And, uh, help them out every now and then.’

If Nikolai knew what you had really been doing during your life in Ketterdam, he didn’t show it. He didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

‘It really felt good to be home in Ketterdam. But the more time passed, the less happy I got. I missed the palace, the life I built here, but most of all I missed you, Nikolai. Kaz was the one to tell me I can have two homes.’ you say.

Nikolai smiles at you after you finish talking. He brings your intertwined hands up and kisses your knuckles.

‘I missed you.’ he says. ‘I thought you weren’t happy here, so when you said you wanted to go to Ketterdam, I felt like I had no choice but to let you go. So I did. But I really am glad you’re back, Y/N. The palace felt a lot bigger without you in it.’

‘How boring were the meetings without me?’ you ask him.

Nikolai sighs deeply. ‘Very.’ he says. ‘I didn’t have to make sure you stayed awake, so I had no choice but to listen to every little detail they said.’ he says.

You chuckle, thinking back to the countless of times Nikolai had to keep you awake during the meetings. 

As you look at him, it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time all over again. You let your eyes roam over his face, taking in every detail. You had really missed him.

‘Nikolai?’ you say softly.

‘Yes, sweetheart?’ he says.

‘While I was in Ketterdam, I realised something else.’ you say.

‘That the food here is better?’ says Nikolai.

‘They don’t have Ketterdam waffles here.’ you point out. ‘But no.’ 

You look at him, taking your time once more to take in his face.

‘I realised that over time, all those days we spent together, I’ve grown to love you. I don’t want to leave you like I did ever again.’ you say.

You watch as Nikolai’s face breaks into a huge grin. ‘You love me?’ he says.

‘I do.’ you say. You hold up your hand, showing him the ring. ‘This should be a pretty good reminder of it.’

Nikolai grabs your face with both of his hands, pulls it towards his and smashes his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. You can tell he’s still smiling. And when he pulls away, there’s indeed still a big and proud smile on his face.

‘I love you.’ he says. ‘I should have never let you go like that. I should have gone with you, or made sure you had reason to stay. I won’t let you leave again, Y/N, you’re my queen, and I love you.’ 

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss to both of his cheeks.

‘We can make this marriage work, Nikolai. I want to make it work. On one condition, though.’ you say.

‘Name it.’ says Nikolai.

‘I promised I would visit Ketterdam every summer.’ you say. ‘To see all of my friends and spend time with them.

‘That seems like a fair deal.’ says Nikolai. ‘Then I’ve got a condition as well.’

‘Anything.’ you say.

‘You have to accompany me on every boring meeting, otherwise I will fall asleep during every single one of them. And we go for a walk through the gardens every evening.’ he says.

‘Deal.’ you say. 

Nikolai smiles and rises from the bed, offering his hand to you. ‘Shall we go on a walk then?’ he says.

You smile and gladly accept his hand and get up. The two of you walk the familiar route to the gardens, and you can’t help but to sneak glances at him. It was already dark outside, but somehow there was still a twinkle in his eyes, and his blonde hair seemed to glow. 

‘Are you trying to remember every detail of my face by looking at me so many times, love?’ he says after a while. ‘I’m flattered, honestly. But you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, you can spend plenty of time looking at me.’

‘I know.’ you say. ‘But I missed a few days, I’m catching up on lost time.’

Nikolai chuckles and pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. ‘You’re truly adorable.’ he says, making you blush.

You reach the gardens and automatically walk to your favorite spot. When you sit down on the bench, you look at the familiar bush in front of you.

‘I’m on time.’ you say.

Nikolai looks at the bush as well and nods. ‘You are. David says Summers Week will most likely bloom next week.’ he says. ‘And when it does, I’ll get you a new flower, to keep with the one I got you last year.’

You turn to smile at him. ‘I can start collecting them.’ you say. ‘One for each year.’

‘One for each year.’ Nikolai repeats. ‘I really am glad you’re back, Y/N. It felt weird, not having you around. I felt like some part of me was missing. Maybe because it was.’

‘Well, I’m here now.’ you say. ‘And I don’t plan on leaving soon.’

‘Except for your summer trip to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai.

‘Except for that trip. You should come with me, I bet they’d love to meet you some day.’ you say. 

Nikolai smiles. ‘Some of them have met me.’ he says.

You frown. ‘They have? They didn’t mention it when I was there.’ you say.

‘That’s probably because they didn’t know it was me.’ he says. ‘They also met Genya and Zoya. They were accompanying me but I wasn’t, well, me.’

‘I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.’ you say, suppressing a yawn.

‘Oh, darling, I’m not. One day I’ll tell you the story of Sturmhond.’ he says.

‘Sturmhond?’ you say and Nikolai nods. ‘Why not tell me now?’

‘Because you have been trying to hide your yawning since we came here, and I think it’s time you went to bed.’ says Nikolai with a chuckle.

‘You’re right, I should. It’s been a long day.’ you say. ‘I left in the middle of the night and only stopped once when I got to Ravka.’

‘You only stopped once? Saints, Y/N, how come you didn’t collapse on a bed once you got here?’ says Nikolai.

‘Because I wanted to talk to you and spend some time with you first.’ you say.

Nikolai’s features soften and he smiles at you. ‘I appreciate that. But now please let me take you back to our room before you fall asleep in the gardens.’ he says.

You get up and intertwine your fingers with his once more, and you start walking back to the palace. When you walk the halls, you run into Genya.

She looks surprised but happy to see you, as she shoots you a warm smile. You briefly let go of Nikolai’s hand to hug her. She must have noticed your tired state, because she tells you that you’d catch up tomorrow morning. 

You’re grateful when you get to your room. After taking a quick bath to scrub the sweat and dirt off of your body, you change into a comfortable night dress. When you get back to the bedroom, you see Nikolai is fidgeting with a piece of rope.

He shows you the small boat he made when you approach the bed. You smile and take it from him, placing it on your nightstand. 

The second you lay down under the covers, you feel your body already dozing off. You close your eyes and feel how Nikolai lays down on his side of the bed. You knew the bed was big enough to keep your distance, but you didn’t have to anymore.

You move closer to Nikolai, cuddling to his side. He wraps an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. Nikolai softly traces shapes on your bare arm. 

He moves his head to kiss your forehead and mumble a very soft “goodnight, love”.

You feel yourself drifting off to sleep, a very faint smile on your lips. It feels good to be home right next to Nikolai. And you’re glad that you have two homes now. Ketterdam, with your crows. And Os Alta, with your king.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[yandere-wishes]

⭐Yandere Joestars⭐

(Parts 1-7 + Bonus Charcter: Joseph and Johnny’s characterizations are based off @dear-yandere​ ‘s interperations) I tried to write this mostly in the Joestars' POV. Their respective darlings resemble lifelike dolls rather than human beings to further illustrate how out of touch with reality the Jojos have become.

Warnings: Gore, kidnapping, dehumanization.

Edited: By the amazing Peri!! (@tealyjade-libran )

⭐Jonathan Joestar is possessive. ⭐

It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it...

It's an old saying, one that Jonathan remembers from an antique storybook his mother use to read him. It didn't mean anything back then, when he was still an infant too young and new, to fully comprehend what "owning" and "losing" was. But as the years ticked by faster than any clock could keep track of, things started to change. What had once been a passing quote in a chivalrous story about knights and dragons, soon turned into the epitome of Jonathan Joestar's life. 

Soon love wasn't about saving a princess or impressing the neighborhood girls with his boxing skills. No, all too soon love became about own and guarding. 

There may have been a time -long before "Jojo" and Dio met- when Jonathan was just like any other gentleman. Tender and sweet, flirtish at gatherings and charming in ladies' companies...but that was a Jonathan from a could-be-past that had been demolished the minute Dio Brando stepped foot onto the Joestar estate. From then on things depleted all so quickly. Everything Jonathan had come to unconsciously cherished had been so easily stripped from him by his beloved new "brother". 

Everything he loved had been killed, destroyed, or broken in some inhuman way. His friends had abandoned him, his lover had distorted him, his father didn't even notice him...

"It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it". The second time he hears that phrase, it freezes him to the pavement, his body star-struck like he just received a message from the heavens. Although it's rather peculiar, why "heaven" would convey a message to him in such an unholy place. 

With Dio having practically kicked Jonathan out of the mansion and countryside. Jojo had no other place to go but the back allies of London. Sure he still tried to be home for supper and bedtime and any other time his father may get an inkling of his absence. But when there was no need to 'appear' Jonathan took to the London streets away from Dio and his lackeys. 

In fate's bizarre game, it's in a backstreet that reeks of days old licker and rotting flesh of paupers that no one has bothered to bury. That Jojo hears that life-defining idiom once more. His dulling sapphire blue eyes follow the mist of those melodious words. Staring until they're practically itching to cut through his sockets and run after those little words. But they stop right before they can leave their eyelets, they stop and stare at the figure that strolls out of the shadows, in such a way, that would make Jojo's father slap him across the face for being "barbarous".  

It's luck or fate or maybe even destiny that leads the heir of the Joestar legacy to meet his darling in the slums of England. 

"How my heart resonates when I lay my weary eyes on your enchanting face..."

There's an odd sweetness about the naivety that surrounds his little friend. A sort of innocence that comes with not knowing about the hell that he's gone through. It's charming in a moderate way, his darling can't come to despise him if they haven't got a clue who he is. Keeping both his worlds as far apart as possible is really the only option left. Dio and his friends can't hurt his new friend? Lover? Companion? In actuality, Jonathan really doesn't know what you are to him. At first, you're merely a distraction from his crumbling, lonely shell of an existence. A sort of invisible pillar holding up London's bridge before it collapses into the  River Thames. Sure he views you as another person, unlike the other noblemen Jonathan has no desire to treat you as anything less than a respectable young lady despite your social statutes. 

 Dio can have the noblemen and ladies, he can have all of George's affection and favor, Heck Dio can have the whole goddamn world for all Jonathan cares. So long as he has his darling, his sunflower, his only means for living, then he will be content. 

Jojo lost everything he once loved, but he swears it to every star in the night sky that'll preserve his darling from the wickedness that runs this cruel world. He'll cherish her while she's still in his arms...

He'll protect her, just like the knights did in the old bedtime stories his mother would tell him. 

"...I swear on my honor as a Joestar that I shall never lose you to the likes of anyone, I'll be a true gentleman, a true knight and I'll protect you from any who wishes cause you harm."

⭐Joseph Joestar is Protective and all so patronizing.⭐

Why must Love hurt so much?

It's solitude, pure utter solitude that attracts Joseph to his darling. Oh sure, he must have known them from an earlier time in his life, back when the words Hammon and Ripple just sounded like fancy dessert names. Back when he was still a naive kid wishing on every goddamn star that he could just meet one of his parents for a fraction of a second. Back when life was easy when everything made sense. That's when he first met his darling. Although all so many years ago he probably just thought of them as the little sister he never got a chance of having. 

There's a numbness growing inside him now that his life has slipped off its axes, hurling into unknown darkness that plagues him in the form of Pillarmen and red gems. 

Everywhere he looks there's a reminder that nothing's going back to the way it used to be. No waking up to Granny Erina's voice calling him down for breakfast, no running around chasing Old Man Speedwagon. Everything is gone, replaced by Lisa Lisa's brutal training and Ceaser's endless taunting. 

Day by day nothing changes, but once he looks back every little thing is different. Ruptured and mangled into something unrecognizable. 

But then there's his darling. Someone -or rather something- that's still the same. Just like before. Her smile is still the same as ever, bright and cheery as she runs up to him wrapping her arms around his abdomen muttering about how much she missed her "Dear Big Brother".

(Y/N) is a comfort, a familiarity in a strange new world. She's something so frail and vulnerable, not to mention naive. Thrusted into a world where horror writers don't dare venture into. It's so likely that she'd be captured by one of Kar's zombie vampire things or -even worse- charmed by Caesar’s silver tongue. 

It's thoughts like these that haunt Joseph at night, keep him up and wandering into her room just to gaze at her sleeping form. He's lucid enough to know how it might look. Like he's the bad guy trying to take advantage of a defenseless little girl. But he can justify his actions, he's her big brother, he has to watch over especially when she's at her most vulnerable. If Ceaser ever tried anything or some vampire freak snatched her away in the dead of night, Joseph would never forgive himself!

But what does he get for all his efforts? What does he get for all his sleepless nights and hours upon hours of worrying? Just a small smile and a fleeting kiss on the cheek. No sincere, "Thank you big brother," or, "You're my hero Joseph!" Nothing, nothing worthwhile anyway. 

Now it's a competition, a battle to the death if it has to be -funny how he takes this more seriously than his match against Wamuu.- He's competitive by nature and he's willing to do anything to earn his darling's affection once more. He doesn't care who he has to beat within an inch of their life so long as he can have his darling back in his arms.

There is an aftermath to all of these, once all the fighting has ended and the battle's won. Once Joseph has finally claimed his prize. There's a certain way his darling has to act. She’s got to smile and play the role of the dotting little sister once more. Just so Joseph can justify his actions...

"And your next line is, 'I love you more than anything else big brother Joseph!'...at least I wish it was." 

⭐Jotaro Kujo is cold and sadistic.⭐

Never learned how to love...

A lover by Jotaro's book is nothing more than a walking, talking doll. Someone who cooks meals, irons clothes, and kisses him on the cheek before he leaves for the day. Sure they have other uses, in flares of passionate moments, they're something to hold onto, another pair of limbs to get tangled in. Something hot and solid, someone to push down, to weigh his force on. 

That's it, that's all there is to it...

A lover and a convenient toy are one of the same. 

He knows it's wrong to think about someone that way. To deprive a living thing of all their thoughts and feelings just so it's suitable for him. But at the end of the day who wants to hear idle chatter and gossip or go outside for walks in crowded areas. All too social, it's all so troublesome. All Jotaro wants is a closed-off life, away from the scums of the earth...away from people in general. 

It's such an inconvenience to seek out a lover, to hassle through dates and meetups in hopes of finding someone that clicks. Jojo would even go so far as to call it wishful thinking. So it has to be a pure accident that he even meets his darling. They're just someone who gets tangled in with the crusaders. A perfect living perception of 'wrong place, wrong time'. Someone who's life gets blown to bits and shambles just because fate decided to play a cruel joke on them. 

And that's what piqued Jotaro's interest. The desperate, depleted look of pain cemented over their face. The sparse dying gleam of determination that blazes within their eyes. Oh, what Jotaro wouldn't do to snuff that little ray of hope. To watch as what little purpose they have is ripped from their arms. What he wouldn't do to see them in pain...

Pain is submission, that's really all Jojo wants. A darling submits, not out of their own free will, but because every little thing they've ever loved has been slaughtered, all that they cherished has been stolen from them. 

But it's not enough 

It's never enough

Although Jotaro adores the looks of anguish that decorates his lover's face. There's something more satisfying about maltreating them. About leaving marks all over, about leaving bruises that never lose their violet glow. He's claiming his darling, physically and mentally. Not a single day goes that Jotaro doesn't remind his lover who they belong to. From verbal taunts that plague his darling's mind day and night, to punches that break bones leaving them paralyzed on the floor begging for help, to cuts that are just a little too deep to ever heal properly. 

Even when his darling is behaving, even when the poor little thing does everything her lover tells her to do, there's still going to be some sort of violence directed at her. Some backhanded remark about how useless they are just because they couldn't follow his mother's recipe. Some sort of blow just for greeting him 'too late'. Trivial things morph into punishments, just for Jotaro's sick amusement.

At his core, Jotaro is an unresponsive man, one with no regard for how others feel. He's distant, it's a trait he can't change. He likes how he does things, how there's no room for slip-ups when it's only him. Even his darling isn't someone he'd consider opening up to. Their opinion of him doesn't matter and their feelings are irrelevant. Most days he's gone until the last possible moment, leaving his darling an endless amount of time to mull over every word and scar. 

But here's the catch.

As the clock ticks by, as the nights and days begin to merge into an endless existence, as all hope burns in the pits of hell, darling's mind is also going to stray. Ever so slowly losing its perception of reality. 

'Maybe' spiders begin to spin webs of doubt through darling's empty cranium. The isolation begins to bite at her skin like the razor-sharp fangs of frostbite. They start to crave Jotaro's harsh touches, they start to miss the venom-like words. Every insult and slap to the face is welcomed, all the misplaced anger and death threats start to feel like sweet kisses and flowery touches. 

Poor darling no longer sees big scary Jotaro as a monster. They've lost the ability to see him for what he truly is.

And what happens when Jotaro does finally come home? Oh, how little (y/n) will ravish in the gut kicks and loathsome words. How she'll take every beating with a sweet sugar-coated smile.

Cause this is her life now. A meaningless existence that revolves around Jotaro and his bleak personality. A life that's only worth living when Jotaro is around.

Is it even a life?

"Yare yare daze you're such a hassle, be glad I keep you around...”

⭐Josuke is obsessive with delusional tendencies.⭐

Maybe I'm the one you'll fall in love with next...

Just like his "father" Joseph, Josuke is stuck in a perpetual state between diaphanous and phantasm.

There's something all too wrong with Morioh nowadays. The narrow streets and verbose buildings have started to feel like a transparent cage. The town has always been small, barely reaching a population of 3,000 despite all the new families that keep moving in.

Nevertheless, everything has dulled, faded, and withered into a monochrome collage. The layers of repetitiveness had finally begun to pick at Joskue's nerves...

And yet somehow, by some diabolical twist of fate. In the mists of the oceans of familiarity, Josuke’s eyes grab onto some shimmering pearl lounged into between the crowd of familiar faces. 

Sure he's seen this girl before, but he's never actually seen her. Never stopped to look at the odd way their eyes twinkle like newborn stars or how their skin shimmers with the glow of a thousand suns. 

One second is all it took, a fleeting compliment as you passed by Jojo in the peppermint flavored afternoon. Your hair flowing like a tapestry of the galaxy as you disappeared in the crowd of dead pulsars. Not a care in the world, not for him, not for anyone.  

Destiny was definitely up to its old cruel tricks again. 

He's not stalking. Josuke will swear on his grandfather's grave that he'd never "stalk" a harmless little girl, like some distorted maniac. He just happens to bump into you at the beauty parlor when he's picking up a new brand of hairspray. And it's totally an accident when he meets you out in the abandoned fields! Honest! It's not his fault fate wants the two of you to keep meeting, it's not his fault that you guys are meant to be!

It's not technically a friendship that you two start to build up, it's far from one. Friends don't dream about sugar-filled kisses behind school walls. Or about ice cream that tastes like scandalous touches and candy induced moans. No, Joskue isn't your friend, he NEVER wanted to be your friend. He knows that! He knows what he wants...but with each passing day, he's beginning to doubt that you know that. 

He'd never realized he's been so sensitive on you. So entranced by your out of tune voice that muttered rather than spoke. He's seldom been so eager to throw a punch and crack his knuckles on someone's skull, just for saying you looked "lovely today". 

Whenever his eyes don't land on you, a rage-filled volcano bubbles in the pit of his gut, uncontrollable anger that festers inside of him, like lava waiting to spill out and burn anyone that wanders too close. His palms itch with the need to hold you, to feel your soft skin rubbing against his. 

The jealousy is always there, pricking at his skin like rose thrones. Until they inevitably cut through his flesh and make him lose his composure. He's ready to kick and punch and hurt and kill anyone that comes too close to you, anyone that saunters off their orbit and makes a beeline for you, disturbing the balance of solitude that Josuke so eagerly sets you into.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when the world has finally dozed off, Joskue's mind begins to wonder. He thinks the way he feels about you is the same way an addict feels about his drugs. Maybe to him, you're even more addicting than heroin and ecstasy...and yet he can't quit you, he just doesn't want to quit you. Nothing in this world could compare to your sweet voice that tickles his ear when you lean in, to whisper a secret, or the may your full lips move when you throw another honey-filled insult at him. 

He prefers when you're alone when he's the only one you talk to. 

Sure there are exceptions like everything in life, although in the end  

there's a sort of backhanded irony.

It's those exceptions that are going to hurt him in the. 

Josuke trusts his friends, he knows that Okuyasu and Koichi would never do anything to hurt him...

But you're not on that list and to be fair you're surely the only one who can truly hurt him.

You fall for a friend of his. Not him, not the boy that's been driving himself insane just to earn a smile from you, not the boy that let you get away with insulting his hair and poking insults at his look, not him never him, it just can't be him.

"You're like an older brother to me"...Did you wash your mouth with acid before you spat those words at him? Did you intend to lace your words with knives and blades and rubbing alcohol before you stabbed him? It's figurative, sure. But it might as well be literal. No pain, no cut, no punch from any stand would ever hurt so much! You really don't know what you do to him, do you?

"I'm happy for you," it's a lie, blank and simple. Automatic words that he's practiced in the mirror a thousand and one times. He'd rather watch you suffocate on your own blood than in the arms of another man. He'd rather break every bone in your body than watch you kiss one of his friends. 

How on earth had he ever come to love you? Someone as cruel and cold. Were you even human? You resembled some ice stand more than a flesh and blood person. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM.

He really hadn't meant for it to become an addiction, he hadn't meant to get all so used to the crunch of bones beneath his foot, and the bloodied lips quivering, shuttering out apologizes for having the gall to utter your name in his presence. But there's only so much a teenage boy can take, only so much torture that he can bury inside with a moonlight smile. 

Addictions really do funny things to semi-sane people, huh?

It's a split-second decision, done in the heat of an all so regular moment. It's just a simple half-hearted punch when you beat him at another videogame. Then another

And another

And another

Then a crack, another and another, and before either of you knew it you're on the floor screaming out in pure agony. 

Josuke vows he's not being cruel when he breaks your bones so delicately. He can justify every crack, every fracture. Although it's rather repetitive and in certain cases borderline petty. 

Five broken bones on your left leg just for "kissing" your new boyfriend. Your right leg is bent at an angle you're sure it's not meant to be. All because you hugged said new lover before going to class. 

Josuke's once liquidy blue eyes that held the softness of clouds have been dulled over by a sort of thick mania. His once soft touch is nothing but nails digging into already bruised tissue. His lips wobbling as stray tears flow past his eyes. Muttering apologies and stuttering curses at both you and himself.

It's not really like his darling can leave after that incident. Josuke is known around town as the boy with a diamond heart. There's no way in hell anyone will believe what he did to you. It's just better, safer, to stick close to him, to swallow the indignities and paint a loving smile over your face when you gaze into his depraved eyes. 

It's better to pretend to love him, rather than have another limb broken...

"Come on (Y/N), it's just a little crack. If you promise to give me a tiny kiss I'll let Crazy Diamond fix you right up."

⭐Giorno Giovanna is sneaky and manipulative. ⭐

Sono pazzo di te. Sei la cosa più bella che mi sia mai capitata...

There's a sleekness to Giorno, a cunning that's hidden behind layers of charisma and charm mimicking that of his birth father's. It's so easy for him to fool his darling into believing that he's a charming prince from a storybook. He's the good guy trying all so damn hard to make his dream a reality. He's admirable, he's noble, he's Giorno Giovana, the golden boy.  

It's not like he ever intends to hurt his darling. He'd never dream of laying a hand on them, he's all too familiar with the wounds that come from endless beatings. The bruises and phantom pains, that get worse as the days slip by. He knows real pain, and unlike all so many others on both sides of his family, Giorno doesn't want his lover to experience an uncia of it. 

He'd never repeat what his stepfather and mother did to him. He's going to try and do everything he can to make sure that his darling is safe...

Because isn't that what's important? To make sure the one you love is safe. To make sure they don't get swept off their feet by some masquerading drunkard or taken advantage of by some fanciful sadist. 

Giorno will do anything to keep his darling safe, even if it means tampering with their mind a little. Nothing too serious, he'd never even considered changing anything about them. Although isolating them isn't completely off the table and a few verbal threats are fine from time to time. Just for precaution...

Giorno is a rather determined boy, he'll go to any lengths to isolate his lover. Scaring away friends by letting Gold Experience give them a small out of body experience. If they're persistent then he can't guarantee that that out-of-body experience will simply remain an experience much longer. It's not out of malice, but it's what must be done for the sake of his darling, the only other thing he cares about.

There's a shift, a difference between the young naive Giorno Giovanna, the golden boy with starry eyes, and the new boss of Passione, the Mafioso who holds the whole country in the palm of his hand. 

Oh sure, as a simple Soldato Giorno was dangerous in his own right. But Don Giorno? He's the sort of monster written about in the grimmest fairy tales. Wearing the appearance of a true king but underneath the luxury suits and priceless watches, he's just another greedy, fire-breathing dragon.

As the Don of Italy's most influential gang, Giorno's manipulation tactics have gotten rather ....hazardous. He doesn't have time to waste getting rid of every single person that poses a threat to his darling. If someone looks their way, he'll send some goons to take care of them. 

Although it's so much easier to keep his lover locked away, he even has the perfect excuse now. He's the head of the mafia, he has all so many enemies who jump at the opportunity to hurt him in some way. So he has to keep his defenseless little lover locked away in some mansion that's all so far away. 

He's also a bit more violent now. Giorno's more physical, ready to break a bone just for a wrong word or a cracked jaw from a punch for even asking to go outside. He blames it on the stress of running an organization...although it's more likely that all the power from passion has begun to rinse away Giorno's caring side. 

"Cuore mio, Resta con me per sempre"

⭐Jolyne Kujo is clingy and obsessive and delusional.⭐

I can't stay away from you...

Jolyne is a rather condescending yandere. Her rough ragged exterior does little to hide the clingy neediness that writhes inside her shattered heart.

She's soft, dependent, desperate at best. Wanting her darling to approve of every tiny trifling thing she does. Needing their words of praise and approving smiles to have the courage to live another day. 

At times it seems like the only thing keeping Jojo alive is the  "good girl!" and "I'm proud of you!" her darling throws her way. Chanting the words of praise with closed eyes and fluttering smiles of anxiety. 

It's difficult to make her sweetheart realize how virulent this relationship is, far too hard to call Jolyne a Yandere. The derogatory term applies to someone who ceases all control from their lover, who locks them in a basement, and throws away the key. It applies to murders and 

stalkers and lunatics that roam the streets in the dead of full moon nights. It applies to those who were thrown into Green Dolphin for a reason.

 Not to some girl whose life has been demolished over and over and over again. 

Not to the girl with a star birthmark that follows her darling around like a lost puppy in the freezing rain. 

But even Jolyn has her limits. She's been let down time and time again, abandoned and framed by those she thought she loved unconditionally. From friends to boyfriends to even her own father, everyone leaves, they take what they want, and then they leave. 

Flesh like strings, stitched into a web of antithesis and distraught moods, act as a  solid, interchangeable reminder of who really holds the power in this relationship. Of how Jolyne can go from needing her darling to controlling her darling in just a fraction of a heartbeat. She loves them, she swears she does...but they need to stay close to her, they need to only think about her. 

Her addiction gets worse as the days tick by. It's less romantic, less loving. Morphing into a dependency, a compulsion. Rotting thoughts of her darling suddenly leaving, plague her every waking moment. The once semi pleasant conversations between her lover and her friends, get cut off like a severed limb. 

Even Hermes and Foo Fighters aren't "good enough" to be around Jolyne’s lover. She's all so, scared they'll try to take them from her. Stealing the ONLY good thing in her life.

There's a certain degree of control that Jolyne's willing to give to her darling. A sort of freedom to make, revolting appalling choices, so long as they include her. A freedom to boss her around and make her submit. Her darling is free, so long as that freedom revolves around Jolyne.

"(Y/N)~ don't look at them! You should only focus on me! I'm supposed to be your world!"

⭐Johnny Joestar is sadistic and manipulative.⭐

Arrogance disguised as affection...

It's all degradation, all harsh words that sting worse than bullet wounds. Glares from dull wicked blue eyes that might as well kill, cause it's better than the alternative. Smirks that make being alive so damn distasteful. Kisses that engrave the lingering taste of rotting lead into your tongue.

Johnny isn't sweet, he doesn't smile at his little sweetheart. He doesn't pat their head and kiss their temples while uttering sweet nothings into their blushing ear. No, his lover doesn't deserve a honey-coated life. They don't deserve to have what was stolen from him by his so-called "loved ones". Instead, he uses them as a living dart board, for both his acid-laced words and bullet-like fingernails. 

There's no love when it comes to Jojo. He doesn't want to waste time on something so frivolous as a "significant other". But he does like having someone -or rather something- to play with, a form of entertainment that bends at his will. Not a pushover, not someone who's too proud either. But a living doll that can take a few verbal spats and survive an armada of fingernail bullets through the stomach. 

Oh, sure he wants to break them, having a toy that's so conflicted, that questions their own sanity is so much more fun. But it's the intervals that count. Johnny wants to be the one to break his darling. To engrave the helpless look of distress into his memory. He wants to preserve every scream, every tear. That's the whole purpose of even keeping a darling. 

Johnny rarely lets his darling out of his sight. It's so much easier to play with their mind if he's the only one they ever talk to. They'll become so easily dependent on him if he's their only companion. Although sometimes Gyro can get a little too touchy and friendly. And there will be occasions when Hot Pants start to pry into the darling and Jojo's personal life. But the incidents are few and far between. Not like Johnny minds, if anything these minor secondary "meetups" are useful to the paraplegic jockey. They refill his darling with the most precious thing..." Hope". Just so Johnny can beat it out of them all over again.  

There's a darkness that resides deep within Johnny. A toxicity that laces his actions. His life is miserable and he's damn well sure it'll always be that way.....

So why not take his lover down with him?

"Don't you love me darlin' ? Cause I certainly don't love ya."

⭐Jorge Joestar is delusional and obsessive.⭐

What if we lost our minds, together?

A love story better than his parents, that's all Jorge wants. Flower field dates, and quick lingering kisses before midnight. Something sweet, that doesn't have a macabre end. A romance without body-snatching vampires and zombies that shed their flesh. Something normal, gentle, lovable. 

Although with the family he's been born into and the kind of things that keep finding him. Jorge doubts he's ever going to get such a hopeful love life. He's all so desperate to carve a life for himself outside of his family's shadow, but in the end, it's simply eager wishing. 

He's not exactly sure what he's even looking for in a lover. Someone sweet but strong-willed, an average answer. Someone who bears a sort of resemblance to Lisa Lisa. Not physically but rather mentally, he's not a coward, he swears he's not, but he just wants someone who can protect him. A fair exchange in his eyes. His lover will guard him against the bullies and freaks of the island and in turn, he'll protect them from the grim ghouls that run amok through the world. Although when push comes to shove he isn't sure if he'll really be 'protecting' his lover or running away and hiding somewhere with them.

He just wants to fall in love and not go insane, a reasonable request, if he hadn't seen the worst that the world has to offer. It's just wishful thinking, sweet dreams for a boy designed to attract trouble. 

He doesn't want to have conversations with his dead lover's head. He doesn't want to wear their skin and waltz around town. He doesn't want any of that creepy, supernatural stuff that destroyed his parent's love. 

He just wants normal. But as the years slip by Jorge's grip on "normal" slowly begins to decay.

Normal is something, but what that something is has become a blur. Normal isn't vampires and zombies and ghost clowns that throw nooses around people's necks...Yet on the other hand maybe it is? 

He's so far gone that he can't even differentiate between methodical and irregular. His brain's capacity to understand the difference has gotten so altered and broken.

Once he finds his darling he does try to act like the ordinary people of the Canary Islands or England, depending on where he's residing at the time. He tries to follow the mode, just to impress his lover. It's a façade, a bloody masquerade that's bound to deteriorate once he and his lover have settled down.

Although a poetic, domestic life had always been Jorge's dream, he soon comes to learn that it just doesn't suit him. Jorge's paranoia starts to increase. It's comical at first, the way his eyes dart to closed doors, half expecting a killer to emerge. Although the same paranoid tendencies can become rather smothering at times. He's all so certain something is going to jump out of the shadows, some creature with sharp fangs and knife-like claws is going to rip his lover's body to rags. 

He's gotten rather umbrageous now that he's the one who's married and living in the Joestar estate. His tendency to run away from any form of conflict has morphed into a rogue-like sense, much similar to a rabid dog barking at anyone who gets too close to its territory. He keeps his darling locked away inside, triple-checking the locks to make sure no one or thing can get in. He avoids the probing disquieting neighbors who still speak ill of his widowed mother and murmurs about the "curses" bestowed on the Joestar bloodline. Sometimes even getting physical when the insults shift towards him and his new lover. 

Punches are thrown.

Insults exchanged.

And then the door and windows are locked once more.

Leaving both Jorge and his darling in the chilling company of the semi alive shadows.

It's safer in the basement. It has to be safer down there. After all his mother kept his father's severed head down there for decades before anyone found it. So it's only sensible that his lover will also be safe, tucked away in the darkness of a brick room some few meters under the earth. He's not acting like his mother -and deep down he prays that this isn't something his late father would ever even consider doing- It's a thin line of justification, but he can reason with himself so long as he knows it's not something his other family members have ever done. He does try to keep his darling comfortable down there. Buying them the most luxurious furniture and comfortable bedding. Constantly bringing them new forms of entertainment. 

Keeping them in this preserved state is what any reasonable person would do. Not just another insanity driven Joestar.

"It's for your own safety" he's repeated that phrase an umpteenth amount of times, although every time the sculpted words leave his tongue, Jorge becomes less sure of who he's really trying to convince. 

Jorge is all so sure that he's doing all of this for both his lover's safety and to erase whatever misfortune follows around the Joestars, like an airy plague. Even his enrolling for the great war is done with this mindset...

Even though in the end it's also this mindset that gets him killed. Leaving his darling a wide window to freedom. 

"Darling, what do you think when you look at me?"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

[multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer]

Bet On It (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey!! Here’s a fun little Draco Malfoy fic. I love him and have been in the mood to write for him recently, so I cooked this up! I hope someone enjoys it :) And requests are open! Thanks :)

Summary: You’re the it girl of Hogwarts, and no man can seem to tie you down. Draco’s the it boy of Hogwarts, and no girl can seem to keep him long. What happens when Draco approaches you with a bet that could make or break your reputation?

Bet On It

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 8,281

Warnings: a little bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff. like one mild curse?

“Look, it’s (Y/n).” You hear the whispers surround you as you walk to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. This is a natural dinner-time occurrence since you are the most popular girl in school. You’re the player of the school, the girl who can get any guy and always drops them in the next couple of months and breaks their heart. It’s a reputation you love to uphold.

“Hey, girls.” You sit down next to your friends, flashing them all a blinding white smile. Every boy within a ten-foot radius swoons at the mere sight.

“Hey, (Y/n). How was potions today?” One of your friends asks, completely ignoring every boy nearby. 

“It was alright. You know I don’t like Snape, so that’s never fun, but at least my potion didn’t blow up this time,” You chuckle, the smile never leaving your face. Part of your charm to boys is your natural confidence and kindness. Even though you have the reputation of a heartbreaker, you’re still kind to everyone. It’s an odd dynamic, but it’s the dynamic you’re known for.

“Hey, (Y/n).” A boy sits down next to you. You’re not quite surprised, just startled. You turn to see Harry Potter next to you, a smile donning his face at seeing you. You smile in return.

“Hi, Harry.” You turn to face him. You had already been down this road before. You dated Harry in sixth year, and it’s currently seventh year. Maybe he thought time would change things, but it hasn’t for you.

“How was your day?” He asks, fiddling with his hands in his lap. You feel bad for making the poor boy so nervous, so you try to be as casual as possible. You’re still human, after all.

“It was decent. We had potions together today, right?” You hum, turning slightly to your plate to eat a bit as you chat.

“Yeah, we did!” Harry brightens at the fact that you noticed him in class. You give him a polite smile.

“Well, you know how Snape can be. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like him,” You say, a small laugh escaping your lips. Harry looks triumphant at your laugh in the conversation.

“Yeah, I get it. He’s a pain.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. As much as you enjoy a pleasant conversation with someone every once in a while, you really wanted to get going. You needed to get to the astronomy tower for some alone time. Boys had been hanging off of you all day long and you’re looking forward to a much-needed break.

“Indeed, he is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go. I’m terribly sorry, but I’m feeling the beginnings of a headache and I’d like to lie down.” You smile pleasantly at him and stand up from your seat. You had finished your food quickly so you could go to the astronomy tower sooner.

“Oh, of course. I’ll see you around, (Y/n).” Harry gets up and heads over to Ron and Hermione, talking animatedly to them as he arrives. Ron’s ears perk up at something he says and he immediately gets up and walks over to you on your way out.

“(Y/n)!” Ron grins at you as you approach the door to the Great Hall. 

“Hello, Ron.” You smile politely again. This was tiring every day.

“I heard you have a headache. Do you need any assistance?” He asks, real concern swimming in his eyes. You chuckle softly.

“No, but thank you, Ron. You’re very sweet for asking.” You brush past him in the politest way possible. You had dated Ron just a little bit before Harry in sixth year, and he was as persistent as anyone to get back together with you. Before Ron, you had even dated Fred, George, and Cedric back in fourth and fifth year. Like you said before, you’ve dated quite a bit and you’re always the one to break up with them.

Once you’re past Ron, you make a beeline for the astronomy tower. No one stops you on the way.

Once you arrive at the top of the astronomy tower, you finally let your guard down and relax. You look up at the stars, closing your eyes and relishing in the moment alone. That is, until you hear a voice next to you.

“Needed to get away?” 

You whip around, seeing Draco Malfoy sitting in the corner, likely annoyed that you had shown up. Draco’s one of the few, if not the only, boy in Hogwarts who isn’t throwing himself at you at any given moment. You hadn’t talked to him much, but you also didn’t plan on it in case he turned out like the rest.

“Yes. Sorry for bothering you.” You scramble to stand up. Draco shrugs.

“Suit yourself, leave if you want. I’m not one of your fanboys, though, so if you stay I’m not going to try and endlessly chatter with you. I’m here for peace and quiet, too.” His voice seems offended that you immediately wanted to leave, likely because you thought of him as a “fanboy.”

“Right. I suppose I’ll stay, then.” You sit back down, relaxing slightly when he doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation. 

You decide to test the waters after a few moments of silence.

“So, why are you up here?” You hum, looking up at the sky instead of at him. He grunts in annoyance.

“For peace and quiet, didn’t you hear me the first time?” He grumbles, obviously annoyed that you’re disturbing his peace. You chuckle. You’re not used to this reaction from guys, so this is a nice change for you.

“I did. Just wanted to see if you’d change your answer, that’s all.”

“Change it to what? Because I wanted to see you? Please, I’m not one of your meddling nosey little--”

“Fanboys?”

“Yes.”

“I bet you would be.” You smirk, finally looking over at him. He looks like you just slapped him across the face.

“Excuse me?” He growls, annoyance spreading across his features.

“You would be. If you knew me.” You smirked. You’re not sure where this arrogant confidence came from, you would never dare talk to another boy like this.

“Yeah, right. I bet I’d have you groveling at my feet before I fell for you.” He scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Not true. I’d break up with you like every other guy I’ve dated.” You sigh, looking away again.

“Is that a challenge?” Draco asks, standing to his feet and walking over to you. You hate how he looks down upon you, so you stand up in front of him.

“And what if it is?” You quirk an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued by the conversation.

“Let’s make a bet, then, shall we? Whoever falls in love first loses and gets broken up with.” He holds out his hand for you to shake. You look down at it.

“And what does the winner gain?” You ask, eyeing his hand cautiously.

“The satisfaction of humiliating the other person, being right, and ruining their player reputation in school.” He states matter-of-factly. You narrow your eyes at him.

“And the conditions? What are we doing exactly?” You ask.

“Well, that’s easy. We’ll be a couple. We will date until one of us falls in love, which will be you, and I’ll break up with you.” He smirks arrogantly. You grab his hand and give it a firm shake.

“You’re on. I won’t lose this bet.” You scoff, letting go of his hand immediately after. He chuckles.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, darling.” He lets the pet name roll off his tongue gracefully, annoying you. He walks down the stairs of the astronomy tower, a new pep in his step. If he’s already using pet names then he’s going to fall for you so much harder and faster than you would for him.

Oh, yeah. You’ve got this in the bag.

~+~

You walk down the hallway to your next class, hips swaying absentmindedly as you carry your books. You ignore the whispers around you, silently wishing that people would stop talking about you behind your back. Whether it’s good or bad things, you’ve always been talked about. It’s been getting on your nerves lately.

“Hey, (Y/n), is it true?” One of your friends sidles next to you, matching your pace down the hall. You furrow your brows.

“Is what true?” You ask, turning slightly to look at her.

“That you’re dating Draco now,” She states matter-of-factly. You deadpan. Right, you had almost forgotten about the stupid bet you made with that slimeball.

“It...is.” You force a sweet smile onto your face as if you’re happy about dating Draco of all people.

“Wow. I never took him for your type, but I’m happy for you! Although, I know other people aren’t so optimistic…” She trails off, frowning. The smile almost immediately drops from your face.

“Oh? And what do you mean by that?” You hum, pretending to care. You honestly don’t give a crap about who likes or doesn’t like your relationship, because you have half a mind to tell everyone that you don’t like it either. But that would be forfeiting. 

And you’re no quitter by any means.

“Oh, well I just mean some of our other friends who had a crush on Draco. They won’t be happy. And also...Pansy. But you can take her! I have full confidence in you.” Your friend pats you on the shoulder, a small yet nervous smile resting on her face. You frown.

“Take her? What do you mean? She’s a just another girl, what could she do--”

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n),” You hear your name shrieked down the hallway. Your head swivels to see Pansy Parkinson standing at the end of a hallway branching off to your right. You internally sigh. Of course, at the moment you’re on the verge of saying she’s no big deal, she shows up.

You look back to your friend only to see that she’s already gone. So much for backup.

“Hi, Parkinson.” You deadpan, continuing your walk to class. Only a little bit left to go before you’re at potions class.

“So, tell me, is the rumor true?” She matches your pace much like your friend did, except her footsteps are more akin to stomps than anything.

“That I’m dating Malfoy--”

“Yes, that you’re dating Draco!” She interrupts you with her horribly shrill voice. You clench your jaw in annoyance until you see the potions classroom coming up.

“I’ll let you figure it out for yourself, Pansy. See you around.” You suddenly duck into the potions classroom, looking triumphant for getting rid of her so easily. She wouldn’t dare yell at you while in the presence of Snape, mostly because he already finds her annoying and doesn’t seem to mind you so he’d probably give her detention. 

“(Y/l/n), care to have a seat?” Snape asks you, one brow arched at your arrival. You realize that you’ve just barely made it to class on time, and everyone is already in their seats. Good thing Snape doesn’t already hate you.

“Yes, sorry.” You timidly look around for the remaining seat and making your way toward it.

Oh, great. Look who it’s next to.

“Glad you could finally join us, darling,” Draco says, smiling maliciously at you. You roll your eyes and sit down.

“Says you, Malfoy.” You groan, taking out your potions book. Draco tsks next to you.

“Calling your boyfriend by his last name? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you don’t like me.” He sneers. You shoot him a glare.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re taunting me.” You growl. 

“Malfoy, (Y/l/n), are you listening?” Snape eyes the two of you, anger evident in his posture and tone. You duck your head, embarrassed. 

“Yes, professor,” You and Draco murmur. Surprisingly, Snape lets it slide this time. 

“You’re lucky you were talking to me. Otherwise, you’d be in big trouble.” Draco smirks at you. 

“And what does that mean?” You whisper back.

“I’m a Malfoy. I don’t get in trouble. For hardly anything.” He winks at you.

“Oh, shut up and listen.” You hiss.

“If you insist, darling.”

~+~

Things had been going...amicably, to say the most. You’ve been “dating” Draco for about two weeks at this point. Your first tactic was to just hate Draco and then you’d never fall in love, but it was easy to see that it wasn’t going to work. First of all, you may not fall in love with him, but….he also wasn’t going to fall in love with you that way, either. So you decided to switch things up a bit starting today.

“Hey, baby.” You smile and sit down next to Draco in the Great Hall. It’s lunchtime and you cannot wait to throw him off for the rest of the day.

“Ba-” Draco chokes on his drink as soon as he hears your new pet name for him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You fake concern, trying to make it look as real as possible. If he believes you’re in love with him, then he’ll fall in love, too. At least, that’s the plan.

“Y-Yeah I’m...fine.” He clears his throat, setting his drink back down. You smile and get your own plate, making sure that you’re sitting as close as possible to him while still being able to eat.

He seems slightly uncomfortable, but easing into it since the two of you are in a “relationship” and it’d be weird for him to be uncomfortable around you. Besides, he’d had his fun with his pet names and smooth lines. It’s your turn.

“God, you’re a bit much don’t you think, (y/l/n)?” Pansy groans from across the table. You look up at her, a passive smile gracing your face.

“I’m sorry you think so, Pansy. Fortunately, you’re not my boyfriend, so I don’t quite care what you think. Isn’t that right, darling?” You muse, turning to Draco and using his own nickname on him. Draco smirks, knowing the game you’re playing and how he’d get to poke fun at Pansy at the same time.

“Of course, love.” He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer to him. You’re startled, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you lay your head on his shoulder and smile. Pansy snarls and gets up, leaving from the Great Hall. 

Surprisingly, neither of you move, you just stay there wrapped up in each other. You can feel Draco’s heartbeat under your head, getting slightly more rapid as the seconds drawl on.

“Oi, are either of you two listening?” Blaise Zabini asks, waving a hand in front of you and Draco. The two of you break apart and turn to look at him, sheepish smiles on your faces.

“Sorry, what were you saying, Blaise?” You ask, a heat creeping up your neck. You wave it off as embarrassment.

“Couple of lovebirds, you two are. I was just saying it was funny how you showed Pansy up.” Blaise rolls his eyes. You turn back to your food, hyper-focusing on that instead of a quiet Draco next to you. Then it dawns on you.

Love? He called you “love.” Is that a new nickname?

~+~

It’s been another month since you and Draco had started dating. In total, it’s been a month and a half. By now, Draco has caught on to your lovey-dovey style and has followed suit. Now it’s a true battle. 

“(Y/n)? Love?” Draco grabs your hand, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Hm? Sorry, baby, I got lost in thought.” You smile, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. This has become a regular thing for the two of you now. Hugging, holding hands, his arm around your shoulder, pretty much anything up to kissing. You had yet to kiss him, and you didn’t plan on it any time soon. 

“I was just asking if you’d meet me at the astronomy tower tonight?” He hums, affectionately leaning the side of his head against yours. You smile out of habit.

“I’d love to, what time?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder to be more comfortable.

“Does eight sound alright?” He asks, his thumb raking smoothly over your hand that he holds in his. You keep from shuddering at his touch. No, you’re not in love. You don’t even have a crush on the boy. This is all a game.

A game that you’re going to win.

“Sounds wonderful. I’ve got to get to class, but I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up straight and turn to him, a small smile resting on your lips. He smiles back at you, but you can tell it’s more of a forced smile. That’s one thing you’re better at. Hiding your true intentions. He may be smooth, but smiles are not his strong suit.

“I’ll see you tonight, dear.” He lets go of your hand. You turn and walk to your divination class. What does he have planned for tonight?

~+~

When tonight rolls around, you’re not sure what to wear. You don’t want to dress too informally in fear that he’d not like your outfit and it would hurt your chances of wooing him, but you also don’t want to dress too nicely and look like you’re expecting too much. So, you opted for a nice blouse and a skirt. A good middle ground.

“I cannot believe you’re still dating Malfoy,” Hermione sighs as you step into your common room. Although she’s not Slytherin, you had let her in so she could be there for you. You needed someone to rant to, and she has been a saving grace during these times. See, she doesn’t know that you’re not really dating Draco, but that’s exactly what you need. She hates him, and you need a person in your life telling you that he’s no good for you. Every other girl just swoons over him and says how you’re so lucky. 

“I know, ‘Mione, you say it every time.” You smile at her as you descend the stairs. 

“Just making sure I keep you on your toes,” She says, giving you a small smile back. You know she disapproves, but she’s been a good friend recently. And disapproval is what you need, too, so she’s helping more than she realizes.

“Thank you. I’ve got to go now, but thank you for helping me get ready tonight. I owe you one,” You giggle as the two of you step out into the dungeons.

“Yeah, you do. Now...go have fun.” She gives you a weird smile. You laugh and walk away from her, making your way to the astronomy tower.

You walk up the long set of stairs up to the top of the tower, nerves gnawing at you the whole time. Why did he ask you here? This is private. Why did he need to talk to you in private?

“There you are. I was afraid you weren’t going to show.” You hear Draco’s voice as you reach the top of the steps. When you reach the peak, you look before you to see that Draco has set up a cute little picnic in front of the railing. You’re taken aback by the gesture.

“Draco, this is…”

“Is it too much?” You look to him and see that there’s...genuine worry written on his face? No, this is some cruel trick.

“No, no. It’s perfect.” You smile and sit down as he sits down next to you.

“I had some chocolate strawberries prepared for us. That, and I got some chocolate frogs. I know they’re your favorite.” He smiles what seems like a genuine smile at you. You’re surprised. When did this Draco show up? And what game is he playing here?

“Draco, I don’t know...I just--”

“Shh, I know...I know you’re going to talk about the bet. I don’t...I don’t want to think about that for tonight, alright? Let’s just...relax. Talk. Be normal, for once.” He takes your hand in his, and now you’re beyond confused. But you play along. Although you’re confused, this is still...really nice. You don’t hate it. You don’t hate him.

“Alright.” You agree, relaxing next to him. You lay your head on his shoulder and the two of you gaze up at the stars.

“Are you familiar with constellations?” He hums, picking up a chocolate strawberry to eat. You think for a second.

“No, not really. Are you?” You hum, getting more comfortable by the second. In all honesty, this is an ideal date if it were under better circumstances.

“More than. Would you like me to point out a few to you?” He asks, suddenly turning the chocolate strawberry to you. He raises his eyebrows as if to offer you the strawberry. Is he...planning on feeding it to you?

“For me?” You giggle, looking up at him. He smiles bashfully and nods.

“For you. Open up,” He says, leaning the strawberry in more. You open your mouth and take a bite of the strawberry, relishing in the sweet chocolatey taste. You hum and grin up at him. 

“Delicious,” You say, smiling widely. You’re not sure you’ve ever had this much actual fun with him before. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

“Oh, you’ve got something,” He leans in a bit and locks eyes with you, “...here.” He wipes something off the corner of your mouth. For a minute, you’re locked in each other’s eyes, neither of you able to move.

You break out of the trance first, ducking your head to avoid him seeing your blush. This is still a bet.

“Thank you,” You murmur, hoping he didn’t see your blush.

“Of course. Constellations?” He asks, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as well. You smile.

“Please,” You hum, leaning your head back on his shoulder. The two of you spend the next three hours pointing out constellations and talking about nothing and everything at the same time.

Once the date is over, you help him pack everything up, and the two of you sneak downstairs and back to the Slytherin common room. It’s past curfew, so you try not to get caught. You’re successful.

“I had fun tonight,” Draco says as the two of you walk back into the common room. You stay between the two sets of stairs leading to the differently gendered dorms.

“Me too,” You admit, smiling truthfully at him. He gives you a small smile back. You’ve decided that you like his genuine smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow...love,” He gets slightly closer to you on the last words. Your breath hitches in your throat. Is he about to kiss you?

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” You mutter quietly, not daring to move a muscle. He swoops in and plants a sweet kiss on your cheek before swiftly turning around and walking up the steps to the boys' dormitory. You stand there for a moment, speechless, until you follow suit and leave to go to your room.

One question plagues you as you walk back to your dorm, the trip seeming agonizingly longer than usual. Why would he go to such lengths tonight if the two of you were in private? There was no reason to do this since it’s not putting on a show for others. No, he knew this was just for the two of you. So why do it?

This leads you to another startling conclusion:

You’re starting to have feelings for Draco Malfoy. And you think he might feel the same.

~+~

A week after the date, things are going swimmingly. The dynamic has shifted just a bit, with the two of you being even more affectionate than you were. The hand-holding and hugs have turned into that and more. The small brushes of hands, his hand on the small of your back, have all elevated your feelings toward him and you’re just hoping that he feels the same way. You’re not in love. At this point, he can still fall in love before you and you can break it off. Just because you have slight feelings for the boy does not ruin the bet. Besides, you’ve had feelings for all of your other boyfriends at one point, and look where they all turned up. Dumped. You’ve still got this in the bag.

“Are you going to the quidditch game tonight, darling?” Draco hums, intertwining his fingers with yours as the two of you walk to potions class together. You grin at him.

“Of course. You told me you’d let me wear your old jersey, so I’ve got to go out and support my boyfriend, right?” You smirk, nudging his shoulder with yours. You don’t miss the small blush that spreads across his cheeks. It’s like he becomes a different person when no one’s watching the two of you and he has no arrogant reputation to uphold.

“Well, with your support, I know I’ve got this win against Gryffindor in the bag.” He grins and kisses your cheek. You bite your lip to keep from smiling so widely.

~+~

That afternoon, at the quidditch game, you find your spot amongst the crowd. You’re sitting with a few of your Slytherin friends as well as Ron and Hermione, surprisingly. They’re still wearing their Gryffindor scarves and hats, but you’re glad they’re sitting by you. You know Ron’s still infatuated with you, so you’re not surprised that it didn’t take a lot of convincing to get him over here, but you’re glad Hermione’s with you. Besides, Ron has stifled most of his flirting now that you have a boyfriend.

“Blimey, you look great (Y/n).” Ron smiles at you. You did say most of his flirting.

“Thanks, Ron. It’s Draco’s old jersey. I figured I’d better support my boyfriend.” You smile and show off the jersey, throwing Ron off. He grumbles something under his breath but keeps up his happy act.

“Well, I’m just hoping to get this game over with soon. I need to get back to studying for the test in DADA tomorrow.” Hermione huffs as she finds her seat next to you. 

“Hermione, you’re literally the smartest witch at Hogwarts. You’ve got this test without even studying.” You snort, watching the players take their place on the quidditch field.

“Says you! You’re just as smart, (y/n).” Hermione scoffs. You laugh and shake your head, mostly focused on finding a certain platinum-haired boyfriend of yours. You find him off to the side, looking for you. Your hand shoots up and waves. You see his head turn to your area and he grins at you, winking. You blow him a kiss back and he pretends to catch it as he mounts his broom.

“God, you two are sickening.” Hermione gags next to you. You scrunch your nose up.

“Are not.” You huff. She laughs.

“Sure.”

“Hey, (Y/l/n),” You hear a shrill voice to your right. Great, she’s back.

“Do you mind, Parkinson? I’m trying to watch my boyfriend play quidditch.” You groan, not even turning to face her.

“Too bad your precious boyfriend was snogging me before charms earlier today,” Pansy smirks as you finally turn to face her.

“That’s nice... if I believed you. God, Pansy, everyone knows you’re desperate for my boyfriend. I can smell your lies from a mile away. Try tricking someone more gullible next time.” You roll your eyes and turn back to the field, easily finding Draco hovering as he looks for the snitch. You hear a high-pitched ‘hmph’ and footsteps walking away from you.

You see Draco’s eyes light up as he spots something across the field. He’s off in a flash and you see Harry try to follow behind him. 

You watch as the golden blur darts around the stadium, coming close to a stop almost right in front of you. Your eyes focus on the two boys dashing after the golden snitch that are about to run into you. Your eyes widen as they approach.

Harry, to avoid hitting you, veers up at the last second and misses the snitch. However, Draco flips over you sideways at the last second and grabs the snitch mid-air, landing not-so-gracefully behind you. He holds the snitch up and the entire Slytherin section goes insane.

“And Draco Malfoy catches the snitch! Slytherin wins!” You hear the announcer shout.

“Almost hitting me, huh?” You turn back to Draco, a smile playing on your lips. He grins at you.

“But I didn’t hit you, did I? Made sure of it.” He smirks playfully. You look down and lock eyes with a seething Pansy Parkinson who’s glowering at you with Draco. Thinking back on it, that’s probably why you did what you’re about to do next.

You reach up and cup Draco’s cheek, bringing him down to you and connecting your lips. You feel him tense up in shock for a moment before he relaxes and kisses you back. The seconds feel like an eternity before you pull away, breathless. You hear cheers around you, most likely from your kiss and the win. You’re not sure if he’s breathing heavily from the stunt he just pulled or that kiss, but he looks at you with his lips slightly parted and a faraway look in his eyes as he processes what just happened. 

“Hey, Draco, get down here!” You hear one of the Slytherin teammates call to him. He shakes off some of his shock, blinking a few times before he mounts his broom again. A wide smile finds its way back to his face and you’re left wondering if you made the right decision or not. It was a heat of the moment thing, it didn’t mean anything...right?

Right?

~+~

“What was that?” Draco asks you once the two of you’re alone after dinner. 

“What was what?” You feign innocence, not really wanting to talk about it in the first place.

“The kiss,” He states incredulously. 

“Oh, that! Yeah, um...it was a heat of the moment decision to get back at Pansy. Sorry.” You laugh it off. That’s not the entire reason, but it’s also not a lie, so you roll with it.

“Oh, that’s it?” He asks. He seems almost...disappointed? No, that’s not right.

“Yeah, why?” You ask, concern finding its way into your voice.

“No reason. I’ll, uh, see you around. I gotta go.” He presses a hasty kiss to your cheek before walking off.

He didn’t want it to be real...did he? Did you?

~+~

Another month later, you’re officially in deep crap. It’s been almost three months, and that was the deadline you had set for yourself to make Draco fall in love with you. In reality, the opposite had happened. You’re afraid that you’ve fallen in love with him. 

Scratch that, you know that you’re in love with him, and that makes you very afraid. However, he seems to be reciprocating everything you’ve felt, so you’re wondering if he’s in the same situation. No, you’re sure he’s in the same situation. It’s written all over his face every time you kiss. You see the love in his eyes.

Yes, you kiss regularly now. It’s been happening quite a bit since the quidditch match, and in all honesty...he sneaks in kisses when you’re in private, too. Which is why you’ve planned when you’re going to confess to him.

“You ready for our date tonight, darling?” Draco hums, a smile playing at his lips as he walks up to you and slides his arms around your waist. He lifts you up and gives you a small peck on the lips. You giggle.

“Of course I am.” You grin, kissing him again. 

“Remember, the Room of Requirement. Eight o’clock.” He sets you down, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

“Can’t wait.” You start to walk off, blowing him a kiss. He “catches” it and stuffs it in his pocket.

“For later,” He whispers, winking. You giggle and part ways with him.

Yeah, you’re definitely in love.

~+~

When eight rolls around, you’re ready. Draco told you to dress nicely for this date, so you opted for a nice winter dress. You make your way to the Room of Requirement, finding it quite easily despite its reputation for not showing up a lot of the time.

Inside, Draco has set up floating candles all around the outskirts of the room and you see a small speaker in the corner of the room.

“What’s this?” Your eyes light up, taking in your surroundings. 

“I set up some candles and this….phonograph, I think is what the muggle-borns called it? It’s supposed to play music, and I thought it fit the atmosphere…” Draco trails off, looking at you for your opinion.

“It’s beautiful, Draco. And it fits the mood perfectly. I mean...I know I’m special when the Draco Malfoy uses a muggle contraption for our date.” You tease him, walking up to him. He bows his head as a blush takes over his features.

“You know I want the best for you, (Y/n/n).” He lets your nickname slip, meeting you in the middle of the room. You smile fondly at him and he mirrors your expression. 

“I love it.” You murmur quietly. You want to say something else instead of ‘it’ but you hold your tongue. It’s not the time yet.

“Care to dance?” Draco holds out his hand to you as a soft ballroom song starts to drift out of the phonograph, flowing through the room, giving it a sweet aria. 

“I would love to.” You take his hand and the two of you start to glide across the floor. You’re no expert dancer, but you’d been to a Yule Ball before, and you’ll be going to another one this year. You like to be prepared.

“You’re quite the dancer, (Y/n/n),” He murmurs, capturing your eyes in his. You can’t look away.

“I have a good partner,” You blush, moving to a more intimate dancing stance. Your arms wrap around his neck as his wind around your waist. Your inches from his face, staring into his eyes. 

The music seems to fade away as Draco leans down and kisses you deeply, stopping your dance across the floor. Your eyes flutter closed and your hands find their way up into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

When you finally break apart, you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. You feel ready to conquer the question that’s been aching in your heart for the past few weeks.

“(Y/n/n), will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” Draco murmurs, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You smile fondly at him.

“Of course. I...I have something to tell you, Draco.” You whisper, afraid that speaking too loudly will scare him away from you.

“Yes?” He asks, his eyes so full of love that you want to just shout it out right now. Him asking you to the Yule Ball only fuels your desire, since that’s at least a month away. He expects you two to be together for a long time.

“I...I love you.” You admit, feeling a large weight lifted off your chest. A large grin breaks out across Draco’s face.

“You do? You really do?” His eyes light up and you want to cry tears of relief.

“Yes, I really do.” You laugh a little, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Oh my god, I thought...I was afraid you were just really good at acting,” Draco lets out a puff of air, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I-I love you, Draco.” You smile, feeling your heart soar. He loves you, too.

“That’s a relief. Well, I suppose I can drop this facade, now.” His hand drops from your face and he takes a step back.

You feel your heart shatter at those few words. 

You look at his face to see that his usual genuine (or so you thought) fond smile is gone, replaced by his usual arrogant smirk.

“W-What?” You ask, your tears of joy turned to tears of devastation. 

“I mean, really? You really thought that I was in love with you? Maybe I should go into acting, I mean, I seemed to fool you.” He laughs, crossing his arms in triumph. Your lip quivers as tears spill down your face.

“You- you liar!” You cry, wiping madly at your face to stop the tears but they’re too fast.

“Come on, (Y/n/n), we’re through. We both knew it was going to end this way. Spare me the heartache. I won.” He spits bitterly at you, rolling his eyes in annoyance. The cocky smile never disappears.

“I thought it was real,” You choke out, feeling your breaths coming out raggedly as you go through the heartbreak you thought you had avoided.

“Well, you thought wrong, darling.” The sarcasm drips from his words heavily.

“Don’t call me that! Don’t- don’t speak to me ever again!” You scream, running out of the Room of Requirement.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic!” You hear him call as you run out. You dash through the halls wildly, not sure of your final destination. You finally find a closet that you hide in, locking behind you as you sink to the ground and cry your eyes out. You stay in there for a while, sobbing into your knees until your heart’s content. Although you stop crying after a while, you still feel the heartbreak and suffering. The pain doesn’t go away. Not for a long time.

You thought he felt the same.

“You thought wrong, darling,” Draco’s cruel words echo in your mind endlessly. You thought wrong.

You thought wrong.

~+~

You don’t get out of bed for the next two days. On the third day, one of your friends finally drags you out of your bed and makes you go to class. 

“You can’t let your grades slip, (Y/n),” She had told you.

You were honestly willing to let anything slip as long as you didn’t have to see Draco anymore.

On your first day of going back to classes, you try to block out the whispers.

“Did you hear that Draco broke up with her?”

“That’s the first guy to break up with her right?”

“What happened to being the playgirl of the school?”

“I guess she’s not all that anymore,”

“I doubt boys will even give her a second glance after this,”

You try to block them out, and you’re partially successful until Pansy comes along. 

“What’d I tell you, (Y/n)? Draco would always come back to me. We both knew it,” Pansy says snarkily as you pass her in the hall.

“Oh, shove it, Pansy. He’s not even with you, he just--”

“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t been here for the past two days because you’ve been pathetically staying in bed. He asked me out yesterday,” She cackles, her freshly manicured hands taunting you as she laughs.

“He...what?” You’re dumbfounded for the second time this week, feeling tears prick at your eyes again. He never had feelings for you. At all.

You didn’t get out of bed the day after that, either.

~+~

After another day of staying in bed and letting everyone’s words get to you, you finally get up again. You put a little effort into your hair and makeup, trying to maintain at least some of your dignity as you force your way back into the world.

“(Y/n)! You’re back!” Hermione runs up to you as you walk into the Great Hall. She tackles you in a hug and you numbly hug her back, not sure if you’re feeling anything right now besides heartache still. 

“Hi, ‘Mione.” You mutter, your eyes finding their way to the Slytherin table on their own. You see Draco hand in hand with Pansy, striking your heart with a sharp pang.

“Come on, come sit with me and the boys.” Hermione leads you away, forcing you to tear your eyes from the platinum-haired boy. You don’t feel his eyes on you as you sit between Harry and Hermione across from Ron at the breakfast table.

“Hi, (Y/n).” Harry and Ron speak up sympathetically. You give them a pathetic wave, digging into your breakfast quietly. No one says a word.

“Well, (Y/n), you have quite a bit of school work to catch up on. We have a test in transfiguration today, and of course, there’s always potions to catch up on, Snape is quite the…” Hermione continues on, but you tune her out as you continue to eat. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Harry sets his hand on your shoulder, breaking you from your thoughts. You turn to look at him, eyes glazed as you take in the concern on his face. You force a small smile on your face.

“Never been better.” You lie. You see a small frown form on his lips. He knows you’re lying, it’s not hard to tell.

~+~

It goes like that for a couple of weeks, the same draining day after day after day. You get used to the lifeless routine, hoping that one day color will return to the world. Everything seems duller than it used to be. You can’t bear to look at the constellations the same way anymore, either.

That is, until one day.

“(Y/n), can we talk?” You hear a pained voice behind you. You turn around, a blank look staying steady on your face.

“No.” You deadpan, seeing Draco standing there.

“Please...I need to speak with you. Alone.” He begs, going as far as to stop you when you try to walk away from him.

“You already won, what more could you want from me?” You ask, your tone staying even and deadly with venom.

“It was...Please, let me speak to you alone--”

“No!” For once, you’re feeling more than heartache. You’re feeling anger.

“(Y/n/n)...”

“You don’t get to call me that! You lost that privilege when you ripped my heart out, tore it to shreds, and stomped on it right in front of me! Sure, it was in our little bet to break each other’s heart, but you didn’t have to be so cruel.” You seethe, letting your pent up frustration go on him.

“That’s what I want to talk about-”

“You can save your apology because I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want to hear how you still hate me but you--”

“It was a mistake, okay!” He yells at you. You see people start to stare at the two of you. You grab his arm and shove him into the empty hallway, slamming the door behind you.

He starts to say something, but you hold your hand up to silence him.

“No. You do not get to waltz back into my life with your smooth lines as if you didn’t completely ruin it with your words just a few weeks ago. You said it yourself, Draco, we’re through. You even have Pansy now.” You growl, tears pricking at your eyes again. No way would he get away with this. Not again.

“Please just...hear me out. I know it’s not as easy as just saying sorry--”

“No, I’m done, I’m leaving. I can’t-- I can’t…” You start to choke on your own words again, the tears finding their paths down your cheeks. The barricades have broken again and you’re left with the rivers you thought had finally dried up.

“No. I’m not leaving you alone until I tell you this. I do love you. I did back then, too, I just...I let my pride get the better of me. I couldn’t tell what love was until I lost it. You left a void in my heart and...and I tried to fill it with Pansy but I didn’t need another girl I...I needed you. I broke up with Pansy just a few days after being with her.” You hear his voice turn hoarse and you look up to see tears running down Draco’s cheeks, too. In all your years of knowing him, you had never seen him cry.

“Your smooth lines…got us into this mess. You and your stupid bet,” You growl, wiping the tears off your cheeks furiously.

“And I hate myself for it! I had feelings for you back then, dammit, I just knew I wouldn’t be able to ask you out normally with you accepting. I’m not even sure I knew that I had feelings at that point. I messed it up...I mess everything up... with my reputation and pride.” He admits, reaching a hand out to you. You look at it and shake your head.

“I’m not...I’m not convinced,” You sniffle.

“Please, I’ll do anything to convince you. No matter how long it takes. I want you back (Y/n), and I promise I’ll do whatever it takes, however long it takes, to gain your trust back little by little. Until you’re mine again.” He promises. 

You look into his eyes and see through the cracks tiny pieces of hope. You think maybe, just maybe, that the genuine smiles and love that you saw were real. The genuine kindness that you so ache to see again. And maybe now you have a chance to see them again. What does he have to gain at this point? Why is he confessing all of this right now? It’s ruining his reputation as a player and flirt, which is exactly what the bet was all about. Why?

“....One more chance. And it’s not coming easily. You’re working for it, Malfoy, I am not one to win back easily. Any wrong moves and you’re gone. For good.” You promise him, the tears finally slowing down until they’re reduced to occasional sniffs.

“That’s all I’m asking for.” He reaches for your hand, but you pull it away from him.

“We’re not a couple. I’m not ready for that. I hardly trust you anymore. We’re friends and that’s it right now. We’ll see how it goes.” You warn him. He nods vigorously.

“Anything for you.” He nods.

For the first time in weeks, there’s a small kernel of hope in you that wasn’t there before.

~+~

It’s been two years since that day, and you and Draco are back together and happily dating. You have been for almost a year at this point. You’re sure he’s the one after he went through a year of torture trying to get you back. He finally earned your trust and love back and the two of you have been happy ever since. He hasn’t done anything to deter you. Nothing big, anyway.

“Draco, fetch me the mistletoe, will you?” You hum, grinning at your boyfriend as you finish decorating your new apartment for Christmas. The two of you have been out of schooling for a year and a half, happily enjoying the new freedom. You’ve both gotten amazing jobs as Aurors, getting to work side by side in the ministry of magic as you catch dark wizards and put them behind bars. Things honestly couldn’t be better.

“Here you go, love.” He goes to hand you the mistletoe, holding it slightly out of your reach above your heads. You giggle and lean in, kissing him deeply. He kisses back, wrapping a hand around your waist as the other continues to hold the mistletoe above you.

“That was sweet, but I do want that mistletoe now,” You joke, reaching up and taking the mistletoe from him. He complies.

“I was thinking...it’s a few days before Christmas, would you mind opening one of the gifts I got you early?” He asks, gesturing to a big box sitting next to the tree.

“Draco, we’re supposed to wait until Christmas to open gifts,” You jokingly complain and he grins, knowing you won’t say no to opening a gift early. 

“Oh, come on, it’s just one gift.” He teases, sliding the box over to you. 

“Oh, alright, if you insist.” You grin at him, tearing open the outside wrapping paper. You open the big box and find another slightly smaller box inside, only to open that one and find another smaller box inside. You giggle as you continue to open boxes and find smaller ones inside until you finally reach a small box that fits into your palm, wrapped neatly in wrapping paper.

“Go on, open it,” Draco coaxes you on. You smile.

“But it’s so small and cute,” You hum, admiring the cute little wrapped box.

“I think you’ll like what’s inside more.” He chuckles. You giggle and tear the wrapping paper off of it, showing a small velvety box. You gasp, tears pricking at your eyes. Draco takes the box from your hand, getting on one knee as he opens it up to you, revealing a sparkling diamond ring in it.

“Draco, I--” You choke on your words, tears of joy brimming your eyes.

“(Y/n/n)...you make me the happiest man alive. I’m so lucky you gave me another chance because I cannot imagine my life not by your side. So...will you do me the absolute honor, and marry me?” He asks. You notice his hands shaking and you let out a short burst of air before nodding vigorously.

“Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you, Draco!” You cry, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Draco stands up, excitement clear on his face as he takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your finger. He delicately lifts you in his arms and kisses you passionately. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. 

Now, truly, things can’t get any better. And you mean that with all of your heart.

[blonde-freckles]

And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70

He can feel the building begin to shake under his feet before it comes down. He only has a split second to dive under the closest table, with barely a moment to check his surroundings before it happens. The room shakes, windows rattling as the walls come crumbling down around him. It’s all a blur, thick dust clouding his vision. He can hear the screams echoing out across the building before it falls to silence, he’s trapped encased in rubble and dust. He hears the faint squeak of his radio struggling to pick up a channel through the collapse.

He can feel the panic starting to crawl up his lungs as he shifts his weight, so he's no longer holding it all on his knees.

He’s half way through calling in his location when Hailey’s voice cuts off the radio. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What the hell Jay? I thought you were waiting.” He can hear the desperation in her voice as he squeezes his eyes shut trying to control his breathing.

“I’m okay...really, it’s barely a scratch. I’m just a little stuck right now.” He lets out a shaky breath before pulling the radio close to himself, he’s not sure who’s he’s trying to convince, himself or Hailey. “I thought...I thought I could talk him out of it.”

He really thought he could. He thought he had this. There was something about military cases that stirred something up in him, something no amount of hour sin therapy could ever fix. His need to help his brothers. The belief that what they’d seen bonded them in a way that would never be able to be broken, and no matter how many times he got burnt by this belief he never gave up trying.

The radio falls silent but he knows she’s there, he can hear her quiet breaths through the radio. “Fire is on the way Jay.” Her voice is quiet and controlled and in full work mode but all Jay can hear is her quiet breathing. This morning he’d spent the first few minutes of his day just watching her breathe, his arms wrapped so tightly around her, their legs tangled under the soft white sheets as the sunlight filtered through. Their warm little bubble, so safe and secure.

“Help...” A quiet voice breaks out drawing Jay's attention, it’s faint but he can hear it. “Help me please...”

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to work out the direction the pleas for help are coming from. He makes out a small gap in the distruction where the light is filtering in, carefully he reattaches his radio to his duty rig, shuffling down on his stomach, he pulls himself forward through the gap.

A steel beam lays across an elderly gentleman's legs, he looks late 70s maybe, with light grey hair now covered in dust, his hands holding tightly around the beam desperately pushing against it.

“Sir...” Jay jumps into action, crawling faster as he makes his way through the gap. “Sir are you all right?”

His brain kicks into work mode, shutting off any lingering thoughts on not making it out of here alive as he assesses this situation. The mans bleeding pretty heavily, his legs crushed on the beam that might be the only thing stopping him from bleeding out. It’s far too heavy for Jay to lift or even try to shift, instead he manages to use his belt as a makeshift tourniquet.

He calls through the radio, listening intently as Brett comes over the air waves to get an idea of the gentleman’s injuries. When Jay does manage to finally slow the bleeding the radio crackles back to silence and Jay looks down at his blood stained hands, wiping them on his jeans in the hopes the gentleman won’t see just how much there is as he sits beside him.

“You’re a detective you say?”

“Yes...erm sorry I never got your name.”

“Arthur Brady...I would say nice to meet you but...” The man half chuckles as Jay gives him a short nod wondering how he could be so chipper in a moment like this, surely he can feel the extent of his injuries, even if he can't he can definitely see the severity of the situation.

“Whatever you do Jay keep him talking until we get there.”

Bretts words echo in his mind.

“Arthur...Arthur talk to me...tell me what brought you here today.”

Time seems to tick by slowly, the faint crackle of Jays radio fading in and out every so often. Fire had arrived, but it was gonna be a long wait until they could get to them. The building was not on steady ground and the aim was to get as many people out alive as possible, however long that took. Hailey's voice had only come through the radio once more in that time, just to say the bomber's body had been pulled from the wreckage near the exit...he hadn’t made it. In the meantime Jay continues to probe Arthur with more questions in the hope it will keep him awake, but he’s also glad for the distraction that it provides him. Sitting still, having nothing to do...that’s never been Jay's speed. He learns that Arthur was at the bank to get some cash out for his granddaughters 21s birthday, he has two daughters and a son and 6 grandchildren. He was a wedding photographer for 47 years before he retired 10 years ago.

“My wife Katherine...oh she’s beautiful. You know we’ve been married 53 years this year..." Arthur explains as he pulls a worn leather wallet from his top pocket, handing it over. Jay could see the old photo inside, it’s slightly faded but he can make out the image of a bride on her wedding day, the vail thrown back over her hair to reveal her smiling brightly at someone behind the camera.

"So what's the secret to making it work?" Jay questions, his gaze falling back to his own phone and the photo of Hailey that lights up his background. He’d dragged her along on a hike a while back, with the promise of getting doughnuts after. She’d been laughing at something he’d said as the sun went down behind her, making her blonde curls glow and he’d snapped the pic before she’d had a chance to protest.

"Marry your best friend. Marry someone you can laugh with. The kind of laugh that makes your belly ache, and your nose snort. Marriage is hard. Life is harder. There are days when you'll wanna walk but as long as your relationship is buried deep in friendship you'll always find your way. You think you might know someone like that?" Arthur asks with a slight twinkle in his eye as he nods towards the phone in Jay's hand.

Jay nods, a soft smile growing on his face as he runs his thumb across the photo on his screen, handing Arthur back his own photo. “Yeah I think I do...and she’s almost guaranteed to be just outside this building right now, she’s gonna be so pissed at me for being here.”

“I don’t think Katherine will be too happy either...will you...will you tell me about her?...what’s her name?” He nods down towards Jay's phone again.

“Hailey.” Jay whispers softly, he can already see her arms folded across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently on the street, eyes trained on every person emerging from the wreckage. Honestly what he wouldn’t give to hear her knowing tone telling him that she’s sick of hospital waiting rooms right now.

“She sort of came out of nowhere, I wasn’t really looking for anything when we met, actually...there was someone else when we met. I couldn’t even tell you the moment everything changed...trust me I’ve tried to work it out but it’s just like one day she was my partner and friend and the next she was the one person I could never live without. I remember looking over at her years ago and thinking I could lose all this...this job. This job that I’ve let define me for so long but it wouldn’t matter as long as I was with her.”

“Sounds like you’re in deep...How come you’re not married?”

“Oh we haven’t been dating that long...I...we still have some things to figure out.” Jay swallows, if he’s honest he’d marry Hailey tomorrow. He’d have married her six months ago given the chance. As soon as they started dating he knew he couldn’t ever imagine spending his life with someone else. He knew it a week in, he’d come in from an early morning run to find her sitting on the kitchen island coffee cup in hand, his t-shirt hanging loosely on her body as she read the morning news. She’d handed him his coffee without so much as a second glance and he’d known in that exact moment. It had taken everything in him not to get down on one knee right then and there.

Things had changed since their first I love you, he was even more careful with her. He didn’t want her to be overwhelmed, he wanted to help her in any way he could. She was trying, really trying and she had gotten good at letting him know when she felt flustered by their relationship, when she needed space or when she needed reassurance. He was all too happy to comply, he was happy to do whatever it took to make this work.

“Don’t waste time...not with the people you love.” The sad look on Arthur’s face like he’s almost defeated makes Jay think the elder man might be close to giving up as his eyes flicker shut briefly.

“Tell me more about Katherine.” Jay urges, he wraps a hand around Arthur's wrist, checking his pulse as he does. It’s weak.

“She’s the dream. I was a New Yorker you see, born and bread...was only here for a wedding 54 years ago when I saw her through the window of a cafe”

“And you knew right then and there?”

“God no.” Arthur begins to laugh but it turns into him choking as he struggles to catch his breath. “I don’t believe in love at first sight. Love...real true love takes work and a lot of it. You’ve got to choose that person every single day.” He croaks out, his eye sparkling as he recalls the memory in his mind. “What I did know was she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I was a young man at the time, full of a confidence I had no real right having.” Jay chuckles, he’s been there, the cocky confident guy in his 20s thinking he knew it all. “I could never have known the love that would’ve formed, so deep it almost shook me to my core. I’d never been in love before, but I’d seen others, especially in my line of work and then I got it, I got why people behave the way they did. I remember thinking if this is what love feels like I get why it starts wars.” He’s words trail off and Jay watches the way his head drops slightly.

“Hey, Arthur...Arthur we’re almost out you hear me. Stay with me now Arthur. Katherine is waiting, she's still waiting for you.”

“Will you tell her...”

Jay shakes his head furiously. Leaning up as he twists his radio, calling out for an update. “No no...I’m not going to pass on any messages.” He mumbles, grabbing hold of both Arthur’s shoulders. “You’re gonna tell her Arthur...Katherines waiting for you.”

“You tell her I loved her and that she made my world a better place.” He mutters before his eyes roll back and Jay begins to bark down his radio desperate for anyone to respond.

It is only seconds later the loud ringing of a drill sounds and Kelly Severide’s voice echoes around them. Jay can feel the relief flooding through him as the familiar uniform comes into view.

-

“Jay...” The bright sunlight is a stark contrast from the darkness he’d been buried in the last few hours, the buzz of the scene hitting him is almost deafening as he hears orders being shouted out. “Jay...” Hailey’s voice stands out amongst the noise. As he steps out away from the building, he’s ushered past the destruction zone and he can hear Brett asking him to sit but he’s too focused on finding Hailey as he scans that area.

He hears more commotion behind him watching with bated breath as Arthur is pulled from the rubble, he’s attached to a bodyboard, as the next set of paramedics rush to his aid.

He doesn't even see her approach before he feels her arms wrapping tightly around him, he releases a breath he’s been holding since the building first blew as his arms wind themselves around her waist, he sticks his face into the side of her neck letting the wisps of blonde that’s fallen loose from her ponytail tickle his face as he does. They’ve never been ones for any type of public affection, while they’re on the clock anyway but right now he can’t bring himself to care. He breaks away after a while, already missing her touch but he knows they have an audience. He watches as they lower Arthur down onto the gurney wheeling him their way.

“Is this her...is this your Hailey?” He coughs, struggling as they place the oxygen mask over his mouth.

Jay can see Hailey glance his way, shooting him a silent question. “Yeah, this is her.” Jay nods, crouching down closer to Arthur.

“I’m gonna go get Katherine okay? I’m gonna bring her to you Arthur so don’t go anywhere.” Jay grips hold of Arthur’s hand, making sure the man sees the sincerity in his eyes as Sylvie lets him know that they need to move now. “Take care of my girl and I’ll take care of yours okay?” Jay asks, glancing back at Hailey who’s just watching silently.

“Deal...”

He steps back letting them get him into the ambulance as he turns back to Hailey. He can see from the look on her face she has a lot to say and he’ll happily listen to everything but just not right now. “Hey I’m okay I promise I’m okay and I'll sit and get a full checkout at the hospital just to please you but first I have something to do, please just trust me and keep Arthur company until I get to the hospital.”

“Erm sure okay...”

Jay smiles as she agrees without question, pressing a firm kiss on Hailey's forehead surprising her before he’s rushing off through the crowd without another word.

-

Hailey loses sight of Jay almost as quickly as she finds him, her heart is still thumping in her chest as she tries to keep reminding herself that he's alive, he’s alive and safe and doing whatever the hell he does. She'd done as he asked, joining the man he'd been pulled from the rubble with into the ambulance.

The ambulance roars into life and she watches as the elderly man begins to pull down his oxygen mask much to the dismay of the newest recruit to 51, his hand shaking as it reaches out for Haileys.

She takes his hand in hers. It’s cold but it squeezes onto hers tightly. She’d heard the tail end of their conversation. “You take care of my girl...I’ll take care of yours.” She’s not sure what Jay has planned but she trusts him, no questions asked.

“That man loves you more than life itself dear.” Arthur croaks and the tears that she refused to let fall in front of all their colleagues finally fall, splashing against her cheeks, his words catching her off guard.

-

The E.R is a mess, overrun with victims from the blast, no one can tell her anything as Arthur is rushed off for surgery, she’s not family, she has no right to know. So instead she takes a seat in the corner out of the way of the chaos.

She thinks she might be dreaming when he finally emerges through the doors, still dressed in his blood-stained clothes, an elderly woman holding tightly to his arm as he leads her through the crowd and towards the front desk. His eyes find hers quickly like he doesn’t even need to search for her, he just knows where she is and the small smile that plays on his lips as their eyes meet is enough for her.

-

It’s hours later when Katherine and Arthur are finally reunited. Jay helps Katherine towards his room, stopping in the doorway as Hailey hangs back. She’s still not sure what the infinity with this couple is but she’ll go along with it if that’s what Jay wants.

“That’s gonna be us one day.” He mutters quietly as the door slips shut and he steps back out into the hallway. Hailey raises her eyebrows in surprise as Jay makes his way around her, his arms encircling her waist as he leans his chin on top of her head. Both of them watching the elderly couple through the window. The way Katherine caresses Arthur’s face as he presses a kiss to her hand. The look of pure joy to see each other is so evident in their faces.

“Minus the major bleed and building collapse I hope.” She hums, leaning back into his embrace, finally feeling at ease as the weight of the day seems to slip away.

He nestles his face into her neck, pressing a light kiss to her skin. “I make no promises...”

“Hey...” she laughs, shaking her head as she places her hands on top of his, she can feel his lip quirk up into a grin against her neck and it makes her own lips turn up. “How are we going to grow old together if you keep being so reckless?”

“That’s what you love about me.”

Hailey turns in his arms, slipping her arms around his waist, one hand stroking his back softly. “I assure you it’s not...but I do love you.” She whispers the last part, she still struggles to say the words but each time she does it feels a little easier, like the words that were once so dark get a shade lighter each time she says them or hears them fall from his lips.

She watches as Jay takes a sharp breath, before resting his forehead against hers, closing his eyes softly just breathing her in. “I’m gonna say something. It’s not a question it’s just a thought...okay? I’m giving you fair warning for when the time comes.”

Hailey narrows her eyes but nods anyway, letting him pull her to the side as the hallway becomes busier. “I love you...you’re my best friend and...”

“And?”

“And I’m gonna marry you one day.”

Her blue eyes widen for a second and Jay bites down on his lips to stop the smile that comes every time he looks at her. He can see the thoughts whirling through her mind like waves crashing around the ocean. He feels her arms squeeze his waist a little tighter before she simply shrugs. “Okay...” she mumbles , laying her head back against his chest as she turns her gaze back towards Arthur and Katherine. They stand there for a moment in silence and he wonders if she can see what he can...a glimpse at their future. His thoughts are confirmed when he feels her lips pressed to his cheek curling up into a smile against him. “Okay...I’ll marry you one day.”

[khaleesiofalicante]

ALEC WEEK - CONSUL ALEC

During Alec’s time as the Consul, the Shadowhunter’s codex was rewritten. Representatives from all Downworld fractions were included as writers to ensure no community will be misrepresented in the book. Also, Magnus’ name was finally included as the co-inventor of portals.

Alec finally got the opportunity to visit all the institutes on his wish list. He personally visited as many institutes as possible to evaluate their needs and requirements. According to close sources, it sort of turned into a prolonged honeymoon trip. (What do you mean when am I coming back? I am on a work trip! Of course Magnus is with me! Where else would he be? IZZY, THIS IS NOT A ROMANTIC GETAWAY! IT’S FOR WORK!!!)

Alec refuses to admit it, but he still blushes a little when someone calls him ‘Consul Lightwood-Bane’.

Ever since he became the Consul, his Spanish got better real fast. Magnus reckoned his husband finally downloaded a cursed app, but apparently Perfect Inquisitor Rosales is a perfect teacher too.

Alec’s Consul robes are cobalt blue to match his eyes and Magnus’ magic. The angelic rune and the symbols of all downworld fractions are printed on his sleeves. The robe was designed by Clary Fairchild.

Sometimes when the kids misbehave, Alec has no choice but to use the ‘Consul Voice’. However, it doesn't really work at home. Max finds it funny and Rafe finds it lame. Although there are some fans too. (I am just saying you can use it in the bedroom too, darling!!)

Once the Shadowhunter Academy was established, Alec, along with the new dean Simon Lovelace, introduced extracurricular programs at the academy. The academy now has a music room, a library with mundane books and a science lab so students can pursue other interests during their leisure time.

People no longer address him as ‘Jace Herondale’s parabatai’ but instead refer to Jace as ‘Our Consul’s parabatai’. When Jace heard of this shift, he apparently screamed ‘about fucking time’.

The first week after Alec’s induction, the downworlders threw a party to celebrate. There is word that the party is still going on. It’s been two years.

Every time Alec travels for work, Jace makes up a medical emergency so he can go see Alec. It gives Magnus serious Deja vu. (Listen, iratzes given by my Parabatai work faster. Everyone knows that. Do y’all want me to walk around with a broken foot? DO YA????)

Alec appointed Isabelle as the weapons master of the Clave. She is currently working as an apprentice in the LA institute under Diana Wrayburn.

Alec stills checks in with the Alliance - at least once every two weeks. He is very pleased with the progress made by Cristina and Mark. He is not so pleased to know that Lily has been flirting with them both constantly. (Well, if you want me to stop flirting with them, you better back here and fix it yourself. Ha! Checkmate, bitch!)

With the help of Simon and Catarina, Alec was able to normalise mental health support among nephilim. There are many nephilim now taking mundane courses to train themselves and meanwhile Alec identified reliable mundane experts with sight whom nephilim can be referred to.

Alec also repealed the law that prevented nephilim from seeking mundane medicine. If any nephilim wants to use mundane medicine for a legitimate and valid reason, they can submit a petition to the Clave - which will be assessed and carried out with the help of warlocks.

And of course, all marriage and adoption between same-sexed and nephilim-downworlder couples was legalised.

Happiest of Birthdays to @my-archerboy​! This one is just for you 💙💙💙

(This is a repost for malec month 🥰)

[jd-loves-fiction]

➤”I’d like one order of Mando adventure angst with a side of fluff and a dash of spicy bickering. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers flavor (whatever’s on the house) and a nice hot bowl of ‘there was only one bed’

Give my compliments to the chef”

➤ genre: Fluff, Adventure, Comedy(?), Enemies to Partners, Angst

➤ wc: 4.9k (holy shit might be my longest request🥴)

➤ 🌙 Requested: @batarella ❤

"Listen, buddy, I got here first." You attempt to reason with the wall of beskar currently pointing his blaster directly at you.

Maybe not the smartest thing to say when first meeting someone of his reputation, but he can only be doing this for one reason. 

He's after the bounty squirming nervously at your feet. And you're in the way.

Why else would he be out here, in the middle of a rocky desert on some faraway planet?

"Step away from him." The voice you hear startles you with its modulated dept. It's more surprising that he even spoke at all, given what you'd heard of the Mandalorian. Although his stature and the silent tension he brings with him is no doubt intimidating, you will not give up so easily after following this bounty so far out from the nearest town. “No.”

His visor tilts to the side, like a frustrated twitch, at your answer. “Maybe.” You rectify, which makes him raise his head in interest. “Do you have a fob?”

“No, I don’t.”

Not that it matters anymore considering yours is broken, but at least now you know he can't follow you if you make a break for it with the bounty. 

“How did you find us?”

“I have my ways.” You nearly roll your eyes at his cryptic response, not like you expected anything else from a Mandalorian.

“Do you know why they sent you?” Knowing your employers, you had a clue on what the reason was. They got impatient.

They’d been pretty determined to get a maximum time needed out of you. You’re almost sure you overstepped it.

But to send a Mandalorian? Seems like a bit much.

“They were afraid you’d run off. That you gave the bounty away to the Resistance.” Of course, those bastards can barely trust themselves, let alone a foreigner.

“Well I didn't, and I won't. So you can lower your blaster and we can do this together.” You offer amicably, not yet loosening your grip on your weapon upon his lack of movement.

“You’re out of time. Your deal is off.”

“That’s just-!” You're cut off by a shot buzzing past you.

"Last warning."

Your jaw drops. How can someone be so damn cold?

You raise your finger assertively, about to give him a piece of your mind, when you notice something move by his hip.

And it's green. With gigantic ears. And huge dark eyes that blink at you curiously.

Your head tilts, mirroring the creature. The Mandalorian follows your eyes to find you looking at the child he’s supposed to be caring for.

“Huh. And who is that cutie?” The blaster already pointed at you raises from where it had begun to slouch, alert and cautious. Noticing this, you readjust your grip on your own weapon.

You and the creature continue to study each other, until the Mandalorian pushes the brown bag to where it rests behind his body protectively.

“Are they yours? I mean, doesn't look like the ears would fit.” You speak just to make conversation, stepping closer with miniscule steps. His gloved hand tightens around his blaster, hoping to remind you that he can still shoot you point-blank.

But he hasn't.

"Can you really do much in front of a kid?" You challenge smugly, still advancing slowly. 

"He's seen me do worse."

"That right?" Another step. "You planning to shoot me today or would tomorrow work better?"

"Are you always this difficult? Just put the gun down-"

You jump towards him, hooking your foot around the back of his knee which makes him fall to the rocky ground immediately, dropping his blaster. Unfortunately, taking down a Mandalorian is no easy task, so he takes you down with him.

He throws his satchel to the side in the nick of time, it lands on a sand pile. His other arm grabs hold of you to pull you down with him.

You point your blaster at him as he lays beneath you, except it is no longer in your hand. Shit. He punches you in the face hard enough that something will turn black soon enough.

As you fall to the ground he gets on top of you, or tries, as you place your feet against his firm chest to keep some distance. You kick him in the helmet, silently thanking the stars your shoes are steel toed.

Your hand only scrapes against dry, red, sand covered rock as you search for a blaster, either would serve. Despite your momentary advantage in light of the Mandalorian’s confusion after being kicked, his hands quickly come down to cover your throat. You feel the creases in the leather as they’re pressed against your skin, and the beskar over the back of his hands against your chin.

But you still attempt to reach a weapon, a rock would do at this point.

Your arms flail wildly with no real direction, only the need to stay conscious, as if movement would help it. You do, however, notice that he’s purposely avoiding your traquia.

He still does not want to kill you. How sweet. Probably just wants to take you back to the bastards who hired you. They’d surely kill you, and much faster too.

Just as the spots in your vision start becoming overpowering, his grip loosens. You inhale greedily, desperately, gasping and coughing at the released pressure. 

You can see his visor move to and fro, searching for something. Once you look to the side, you the child safe in its pile of sand, so it can't be that. 

"Dank farrik! He's gone." The bounty. Right. Shit. 

"Now," you pause, heaving as your lungs struggle to fill up again, "what?"

He places his hands on his hips, thinking for a moment, before turning his visor to where you lay clutching your sore - but not yet bruised - neck. "I'm going after him."

"I'm sorry-?!" You cut yourself off with a cough as you sit up, feeling grains of sand make their way inside your boots and other places. "You're going after him? This is my bounty! I had him, and I would've been fine if you hadn't shown up."

He keeps his stance, probably glaring disapprovingly beneath his helmet. You huff at his unyielding silence, getting up in his personal space and jabbing a finger into his chest plate.

"I'm about to give you a piece of my mind, so you better listen very carefully. I had it! It was my catch. And from what I can tell, it still is. So you better back off, Mando." Venom drips from your lips as you glare at the tin can on his head as if you could put a hole straight through it.

He relaxes, raising his hands again peacefully, palms up, "Alright, I get it. But do you think they'd take him from you now? Let alone later when you actually catch him? They seem pretty vindictive."

"Well, what do you suggest? You're not going on your own."

"And why not?" He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans towards you.

"You don't have a tracking fob." You retort, leaning towards him as well with your hands on your hips.

The Mandalorian pats himself down where he believes to have stored the small device, only to find all those pockets empty. "You little thief!"

"And you're a liar! Plus, you think I'd just let you take my credits? Come on, with your reputation, you should know better than that." You shrug and suddenly Din is acutely aware that the beeping now comes from your hip instead of his.

"Alright, fine, let's do it this way. We'll look for him together and once we catch him, I'll hand him in and we'll split the reward." He explains slowly, carefully, afraid to set you off. 

"Seems good to me." You speak resolutely, thrusting your hand forward firmly, expecting a handshake. 

His helmet tilts down slightly as he looks down at your hand, before he reaches out with his own. Just as the leather meets your skin - in a now less life-threatening way - a coo sounds from somewhere at your feet, making you both look down to see the little green creature looking between the two of you curiously.

You look back at it, mirroring it once more, before it smiles wide revealing its tiny little teeth and, oh, your heart might just actually melt. 

It's large eyes move down from your face, towards your hands.

You suddenly realize neither you nor the Mandalorian had let go of each other's hand and that a large grin has formed on your face due to the adorable baby. It is promptly wiped off as you pull your hand back just as he does. He looks away while you shrug at the child's inquisitive stare, unaware that the bounty hunter had been watching you and marveling at the bond you'd both formed already.

And so you set out together to look for your target, back towards town, where you had begun your chase.

He can't have gone far or in any other direction, not with the unbearable heat and certainly not while handcuffed. He'd die for sure, you just have to hope he's smart enough to know that. 

You walk through town with the fob in your hand, just out of sight. No need for unnecessary attention. The town is tightly crowded, much to your chagrin, so you move slow and are barely able to see over the moving bodies. There’s just too much going on, too many people moving back and forth, shoving past you rudely. If it’d been anyone else - not an experienced bounty hunter - you would have probably been knocked down by the last two men that had scurried past you in a rush.

Without warning, you feel a hand grip your bicep. You immediately ready yourself for a fight, before you realize it belongs to your associate. Once he has your attention, Mando nods towards the edge to the street, against red stone buildings, urging you to follow him. You do, nudging anyone out of the way as you walked against the crowd’s stream.

You’re about to shout over the noise to ask just what the hell he pulled you aside for, considering you’re running out of time, before you follow his visor. Right to a wanted poster of a very familiar scoundrel. From the Resistance? Wanted alive for 8,000 credits?

“That’s one big fish, huh?" You continue to shout in order to be heard over the crowd, which you immediately regret, looking around, paranoid. "Must be important." You comment to yourself. 

You look up to see the Mandalorian's back disappear behind the corner. You quickly follow, catching up to his long strides, "What are you thinking?"

He ignores your inquiry, continuing to practically stomp his way through town. "Hey. Hey!" You call out to no avail. Well, you asked for it.

You reach out, grabbing the man by the back of his cape, tightening it around his neck and making it so he had to lean back to follow your hand in order to keep breathing. Your heart beats faster at the rush of power you feel for a moment. "You better tell me what you're thinking, or this is not gonna work."

He taps your hand repeatedly until you let go, rising to his full height and you're back to feeling slightly intimidated as he stares you down, silently.

"I'm thinking that with a price that high you might actually take the bounty yourself."

"Why-?"

The tracking fob. The small object suddenly burned a whole in your pocket. 

"Oh come on! You were trying to kill me!"

Your voice raises, arms flailing about. You know you're making a scene, considering this street is so much emptier and therefore quieter than the main one, but for the moment, you don't care. Right now, all you want is to put Mando in his place. Something you know is foolish given that he nearly killed you before and could actually do it this time.

"Yes, but it's still stealing." He spoke with that know-it-all, I'm-better-than-you, tone that just gets on your nerves. Bastard.

You raise a finger in the man's direction, fully intending to continue this conversation and clear your name in his eyes - the reason why is unknown even to you - when a shrill giggle cuts through the air. You look to Mando's hip, where the creature (who's name you have yet to learn) sits, pointing ahead to the entrance to the cantina. 

Right at the man of the hour.

What? How?!

The man looks back at you and Mando for a moment, eyes widening as he recognizes you and the fact that this might be it.

Before he takes off running. 

You start running before Mando does, easily catching up to the stout man, who's no longer in cuffs. As you get too close to his liking, he takes out a blaster (that you know isn't his) and tries to shoot you in the head. Only to miss and hit your forearm instead. 

Hurts like a bitch, but it's better than death. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see a steel rope of some kind shoot out and wrap around the fugitive's leg, sending him stumbling face first onto the ground. 

Mando walks over to him, barely winded, standing over the panting man and blocking the sun with his body. You can only imagine the man's terrified expression. 

You quickly take care of your wound as Mando ties the man up enough that he can't move, wincing as you look at the damage made on your skin. The burning nearly stops the bleeding and it hurts so bad you can barely process it, so you don't think about it, you simply level your breathing while wrapping a cloth around the wound and hope for the best considering it's not too big. 

You clutch it to your chest as Mando approaches, pointing at your arm, intending to ask you if you're alright, but you move it to your side before he can. "Are you-"

"We should give him to the Resistance." You speak resolutely, holding back from wincing as your injury rubbed against your pants. It hurt even from beneath a (barely) protective cloth.

“I said ‘we’, so don't you start giving me shit, alright?” You tell him sternly after he crosses his arms, probably getting ready to call you a thief again. “You can't give him to the Resistance because they’ll arrest you, correct?” He nods.

“Well you know bounty hunting isn't exactly legal.”

“You don't have to tell me that, Mando.” You remind him firmly. “So, if we give him to them, we can ask for them to clear your name! And we’ll get double the reward. Two birds with one stone!”

“Do you really think they’d just do that?”

“If someone’s paying 8,000 credits for one guy and specifying they want him alive, then I’d bet they’d do anything to get him, even something as seemingly insignificant as clearing your name.” You explain, gesturing avidly as you do.

A long moment of silence passes before a modulated sigh crackles through Mando’s helmet. “Fine. I’ll go get the Crest.”

“Wait, woah woah woah. Why are you going? How do I know you wont leave me out here?”

“How do I know you wouldn't?” You take a moment to consider his words. He did lie to you, but you did steal from him in a way.

You look down in contemplation, eyes meeting the creature’s. Right, Mando has the kid, who probably isn't fit to be out in this heat for as long as it has.

“He got a name?” You point to the child, who smiles and giggles gleefully.

“Grogu.” You nod, sighing and rubbing your temples. Stars, it’s so hot it feels as if your brain is melting and you can feel a headache coming on.

“You can go. But I want you to swear on your,” You pause for a second, searching for the right word, “honorable code. Swear you’ll come back.”

“You-” The Mandalorian starts, before giving up on protesting at your determined stand, crossed arms and raised chin. “OK, alright. I swear that I’ll come back for you and the bounty. That we need.” He whispers the last part.

“Get to it then. I’m sweating bullets in this heat!”

You sit, back against a nearby rock, searching for as much shade as possible. You don't want to move the bounty back into town for a multitude of reasons, so now you’re stuck just outside of town. Sweat making your clothes stick and it gathers while the headache gets worse and more blood soaks your makeshift bandage, but at least it's silent. That's what you thought about 20 minutes ago, now, you’ve changed your mind.

“The hell did you do to get 8,000 credits on your head?” You ask suddenly, seemingly startling the man who seems to have accepted his fate already.

He sighs, probably just as bored as you, “I have some information they want. That's why they want me alive.” You purse your lips in interest, humming in understanding, before silence falls over you two once more.

Stars, it's hot.

You could cry from relief once you hear the sound of a loud engine getting closer and closer. The 'Crest', as Mando had called it. 

You grab the bounty by the shirt, hauling him to his feet rather roughly and shoving him towards the flying hunk of metal that had just landed. 

The ship. Mando doesn't come out to greet you. 

As the ramp closes and the air is blanketed in a sheet of silence, your mind starts to wander without your permission. You know he has to be handsome under there, what with his broad shoulders and slim waist, deliciously thick thighs and a wonderfully smooth and deep voice that seems to caress your very soul as you hear it. You caught a glimpse of his skin when you pulled at his collar, delightfully tan just begging for you to sink your teeth into it. 

Must be the heat. Surely that is the sole reason why you're fantasizing so vividly about a man whose real name you don't know, whose face you've never seen and oh, a man who tried to kill you. But didn't. 

Sick of your own thoughts and the loud snores of the bounty, you rise to your feet, climbing the ladder that leads to the cockpit. You wince as you put part of your weight on your injured arm, deciding to climb the rest of the ladder one handed instead.

“Are you decent?”  You shout through the thick metal door, hoping Mando can hear you inside the cockpit. When the heavy doors hiss and open, you’re sure he must be.

You sit down in the passenger seat silently, looking up at the stars above for a long moment. The mesmerizing, endlessly dark sky is all that you see at first, from being partially blinded by the fluorescent lights inside the Crest, before the stars come to you, bright speckles that dust the planetary systems all around you. Breathtaking. 

You look back in front of yourself to find Grogu already staring at you, head tilted with a smile that shows the slightest hint of tiny teeth. You smile, leaning forward with a raised brow. He leans closer to you, eyes lingering in the side of your face, the one already darkening from Mando’s blow, before dipping down to the arm you hold close to your chest. You let go of it immediately as he does, wanting to shield him from seeing the blood you know can be seen through the cloth.

The child steps closer, as far as he can while up on the dashboard. Mando has to be avoiding you, before he would've seen that movement otherwise.

It reaches out his small hand, squeezing his eyes as tightly as possible while the green limb twitches. You furrow your brows in confusion, what?

The ache on your skin lessens gradually, as if the wound was being lifted from your skin. You can feel it on your arm, it tickles as your skin connects itself around the wound while the burn disappears as if you’d just placed ice over it.

At some point, your eyes close, lulled nearly to sleep by the lifting of the pain, the feeling left behind makes your skin tingle with energy just beneath, your head feels light for a second, as if the blood moved from there down to heal the wounds.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with Mando’s visor trained on your face, silent in a way you can tell he’s speechless. “Eyes on the road, Mando.” You tell him cheekily, voice cracking unexpectedly.

He turns back forward, pausing his steering to pull Grogu forward and away from the edge, before his hands return to the commands. “So, is it far still?”

“No, just a few more hours. The closest Resistance base is just on the next planet.” His fingers flick switches and pull levers, before he seemingly puts the vehicle on autopilot and turns to you. “You can take the cot, you must be tired.”

You blink at him, “And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He answers gruffly, not sparing you a glance.

“No, it’s gonna be a few hours, and you’ve been awake for about as much as me so if anyone is taking the cot, it’s you.” You argue back firmly.

He sighs, loosening the cape around his neck as a way to calm himself down, you and your selflessness.

“Alright. No promises that I’ll sleep though.” He acts like it’s a huge burden, as if it pains him deeply.

He takes Grogu in his arms and towards his sleeping nook. The small child smiles at you from over his guardian’s shoulder, and you smile back.

Once he’s safely put away and the bounty checked on, Mando leads you to a space just off the main hull space, where a bed - with the thinnest mattress you’ve ever seen - is pulled from the wall. Oh boy, you can already feel your back aching, but it’s better than sitting in the cockpit on those hard chairs.

So you lay down your weapons while he takes off the bulkiest of his armour. You lay down, curled on your side and away from him, knowing he’ll have to cuddle close to fit. You feel his warmth against your back, but you don't feel his touch quite yet, only the ghost of it. Your gut tightens with pity as you know he can’t take his helmet off. That has to be very uncomfortable.

The lights are dim enough that there is no shadow from your bodies on the wall. You can tell by the space he’s put between you, that he’s about to fall off.

“Are you scared of me, Mando? Can I call you Mando?”

“Sure and no.”

“Which one?” You ask mischievously, smirking to yourself while knowing full well what he meant.

He sighs in exasperation, so you let him be. For only a moment before you're back to being snarky. "Surely you've been this close to another human before, perhaps in a more compromising context."

"Yes and it's usually quieter." You think he might not realize what he just said.

You snort, "Must mean you're doing something wrong."

"That's not-! Just, get some sleep." He says tiredly, giving up on the banter you're pushing. You do as he asks, closing your eyes as you feel the heat of his body move closer to you.

You wake up to a rough whisper of your name and a shaking of your shoulder. Eyes open slowly, squinting against the light shining right at them, before something blocks it and eases your discomfort. The large hand on your shoulder doesn't yet move from its place, gently perched and waiting for you to wake up fully. 

You look up to see Mando's helmet over you, seemingly way too close (not that you're complaining), as you can clearly hear him breathe through his modulator. "We're here and we need to talk before you go in."

You follow him to the hull without question, stopping just before the door that leads to it. You rub the sleep from your eyes before blinking up at the bounty hunter, trying to nonchalantly fix your messy hair. 

And though he'd never tell you, he thought you looked adorable in that moment. Rosy cheeks, a faraway gaze, lips pursed to hold back a yawn as you brushed down your hair. He was certainly thankful for his helmet in that moment, considering the heat he felt crawling up his neck and settling on his cheeks. 

"Plan?"

You clear your throat before speaking, "Right. So, it's easy." You raise a hand to his face when Mando sighs deeply. "Simple, really. I go in, tell them I have the bounty and ask for a little something as compensation along with the credits. See? Easy and simple!"

"Do you think they'll take it?" It doesn't sound as skeptical as you would've expected from him. It's sort of hopeful. Even Mando has to admit to himself that getting chased around and having to avoid and run from x-wings at every turn, got pretty exhausting. 

"Let's try it before we start getting doubts." You tell him, determined. "Besides, nothing to lose if you stay hidden, right?"

The planet you landed on is small and green - perfect cover for a Resistance base. You walk along the dirt path leading to it and away from the Crest, coming up to a clearing where you can see the humongous metal doors of the base which seemed to have been dug into a small mountain. 

"Stop! State your business." A voice says through a speaker once you get close enough. 

"I've come to deliver a bounty!" You keep it simple, no use even attempting to be charming with these folks.

Not long after, the doors part to let someone through, who you presume is a general or something of the sort given their intimidating presence and the flock of guards with their weapons trained on you that follow them. 

"We have your credits. Thank you for bringing him to us." You keep your face neutral even as it urges to tremble beneath the pressure of their gaze. You feel the man in question squirm against the arm that grips his bicep. Must really not be a fan. 

"That is not all I want." The supposed general, no need to try and figure that out considering you don't want them to remember you more than necessary, raises a delicate brow. "I would like for you to clear someone's name."

"That is not what we agreed on."

"Yes, well, I didn't agree to it myself, so." You shrug, impressed that the general's face remains stone cold, especially considering how much they probably would like to dispose of you given you're dragging out this exchange for longer than what's really necessary. 

"You are in no place to make demands." One soldier tells you, pulling out his blaster and pointing it at you, getting more of a reaction from the bounty than from yourself as he flinches. 

"Oh, I am in the perfect place to be making demands." You tell him venomously, grip tightening on the man's arm.

"We have you surrounded."

"Just the way I like it." You respond with a wink just to hear the person's stuttering over the modulator on their helmet.

"Very well." The general calls out in order to gain their minions' attention, "Just tell me what name they might be under in our system."

"The Mandalorian. Mando for friends."

Epilogue

"Fuck! Shit, fuck! What was I thinking?!" You yell out in frustration, standing before what remains of your ship, the rest most likely taken by Jawas, who must be long gone by now. "Of course someone would take it apart, why not?! Oh, stars." You wail miserably, crouching into a ball in search of some comfort. 

"Hey, it'll be alright. Don't panic." Mando tells you gently after pulling you to your feet and grabbing your shoulders tightly to ground you. "There's two ways we can do this: we go after those Jawas, get your pieces and fix the ship or," Mando hesitates for a moment, fingers drumming along your skin as he turns the words over and over in his tongue until he feels as if he'll get them right once he says them. "you can come with me until you get enough credits for a new one. 4,000 might not be enough yet, but it's a pretty solid start."

His rare optimism brings a small smile out of you and makes your anger settle down almost completely. You'll no doubt have an even deeper hatred for the little shits, but you don't feel as if you'll punch the next living thing you see.

"I guess catching a ride with you can't be so bad, huh, Mando?"