#(+ mourning the 'loss' of his friends and being too scared/worried to DO anything about that loss ect.)

[labwebs]

“I dunno. I just... I just don’t see how it’s ever gonna get any easier.”

#open to mutuals 💙 #idk i think a lot about how peter just. barely ever gets to properly grieve the people he's lost #between probably feeling like a bit of an outsider at tony's funeral bc he didn't know any one else that well #and then not being able to mourn may as her son (let's be honest there) because NO ONE KNEW SHE WAS HIS AUNT OR EVEN HAD A NEPHEW #he very much does his best to be kind in all he does but man this kid you guys :( #(+ mourning the 'loss' of his friends and being too scared/worried to DO anything about that loss ect.) #(set this whenever you like) #i was in the avengers [peter 1]

[godsrejectedmartyr]

i feel like every wave i get of suicidal thoughts it gets worse because the pressure gets stronger. i’ve been suicidal since the 5th grade but the first memorable suicidal experience was my freshmen year. it was mostly just depression and feeling like i wasn’t doing good enough, mostly because of religious trauma and my family treating me like a failure, what i did to fix that was bite off more than i could chew and decide i was going to become a medical professional. my sophomore year i thought that my junior year i was going to be doing better and before i knew it i would have a job that payed well with fewer work days and i would be happily living with money in my pocket so i could escape my family and the church, but i knew in the back of my mind that plan B was always suicide. i’m in my junior year now and i told myself i was going to do better. i tried, but then i kind of thought what was the point? i knew i was going to be alone when i left all i had behind. the church and the mere concept of god was going to take away everything i had, and the one thing i cared about most, my mom. but knowing for over a year that i was going to have to leave it all behind, i had the time to already mourn that loss, and eventually when i realized there was no point to keep going, it made it easier to just end it all. i stopped trying at school and i stopped working as much. i spent a lot of my time just getting smoking weed and drinking alcohol, playing video games and spending what i thought would be my last moments with my friends. the week before i was going to end it, my current boyfriend made his last attempt at killing himself. it wasn’t the first time i was there when he tried, i was with him every time. at first i felt guilt, but at the same time i knew there was nothing i could do to stop him because i was and have been at the same place several times. i love him and i have been for years but i was scared to say anything because my friends influenced me not to, they didn’t know i liked him but they hated him, i didn’t want them to hate me too. he also liked me, pretty much from the beginning. that’s mostly why my friends don’t like him, he didn’t make it a secret that he had feelings for me. after a while of me being to scared to reciprocate he told me that he was trying to lose feelings for me, eventually he told me he wasn’t interested in me at all. it hurt to hear but i love him, so i let him go for his sake. that last time he attempted i let him know my plans. he seemed against it but he was about to attempt so he knew he couldn’t stop me. after his failed attempt we had another conversation. i was happy to get another chance to talk to him before i left, he was the only one who knew what i was going to do. he told me a lot of things that night, i’ve already mentioned this before but he mentioned another girl. he told me he lost interest in me and a part of me didn’t completely believe him but in my mind this confirmed he had in fact lost interest in me. desperately, but not directly, i tried letting him know i always loved him, but i thought he didn’t want me anymore. he tried convincing me not to kill myself but i had made up my mind, i already threw everything away just for that ending. i told him i knew that no matter what i wasn’t going to be happy. he said “you don’t know that, what if we could be happy together..?” and at that point i knew he was all i had. for a while there i had hope i was going to do better in school and get my medical career to give him a good life where he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. but i dug myself such a deep hole with school and i’m scared i’ll get held back and not even give him the life i promised him. sometimes i wish i could just give it all up but i love my boyfriend so much i can’t leave him behind. i just hope there’s a way i can be just as successful if this whole medical stuff doesn’t work out.

[absolutelyfizzing]

he promised

poe dameron x reader

description - Poe always promised he would come back from missions. One time he doesn't. (Ends in fluff i promise i promise)

warnings - depression?, anxiety?, fem pronouns, talk of injury and death, grief, fluff at the end, use of petnames, reader gets carried for a while and sits on a lap, mentions of eating and eating avoidance (not ed)

word count - 3800

A/N - so this was an oops. I wrote this hella fast but i was in the zone and i am pretty happy with the emotionally devastating product. I promise it has a happy ending i just dont want to give too much away. I feel like for maximum emotional damage you need to be a little in the dark. anyway, forgive me

MASTERLIST

You were stood in the command center with your hands wringing together. No matter how many missions Poe went on, the waiting was always hell. How were you supposed to remain sane when the love of your life was out fighting a battle that he might not come back from. That you might never see him again. He always reassured you that he would always come back to you. That you never had anything to worry about. You tried to believe him, and for the most part you did, but that didn't prevent you from being worried when he was gone.

You listened through the coms, trying to keep track of what was happening during the battle. Leia let you stay in there because she had a soft spot for you, as well as the pilot you were worried about. You were thankful she let you listen in on every mission, it meant that you weren't alone worrying in the room you shared with Poe. The conversation over coms was rushed and loud, they were scared and that made your heart beat faster.

'I have to go through, they're gonna come after us if I don't.' You heard your fiance yell. Worry stuck in the pit of your stomach, he was going to take a risk, you could feel it.

'Poe, it's not worth it. We should get out of here while we still can'. You agreed, wanting him to get out of there as soon as possible. You prayed he would listen and just get out.

'I have to try, I can't go back knowing that they could be following us to base.'

'Poe wait-' You heard someone rush out before comotion ensued again. You could feel your heart in your throat. You could have cried. After a minute of listening to pure chaos, nobody in the control room dared to speak a word. Everyone was waiting for an indication of what to do from the squadron. You found yourself zoning out in your worry. You were only broken out of your trance when you heard your fiance's name.

'Poe is down.' You stopped breathing.

"Down? What do you mean down?" You heard Leia call over comms.

'I'm sorry commander, he got hit. His X-Wing engine got shot and he was heading to crash on the planet right below us, his coms died. There's no way to know if he made it through but I don't know many who could take that crash and live. We have to head out and hope he comes back to base but I wouldn't get my hopes up.'

"Get out of there while you still can. We will have to worry about Poe when we gather our strength." Leia responded and the squadron called their understanding before the process of bringing them home began. You hadn't moved. You weren't sure if you had breathed. Your body was fully numb. You could feel eyes on you as everyone waited for you to respond. To show some emotion of your boyfriend having just gone MIA. You couldn't feel yourself though, your fingertips were numb, and you refused to believe he was dead. He promised. He told you he would come home.

Your brain was split between trying to grieve for the loss of the love of your life and trusting that he would be back. That he had to come back because he promised he would and he never breaks a promise. You felt hands on you and you realized you had fallen to sit in your spot. Leia was above you and was ushering you to your feet. You mindlessly let her push you somewhere and you barely even looked to see where you were going.

Eventually you showed up at your apartment door. You couldn't tell whether it felt like it had been instantaneous or an eternity to get there. Leia unlocked your door and pushed you inside and to the small couch that was stood in the living room-like space. The apartments were all very small, Poe had one a little bigger because he was housing with another person and because of his rank. Still, the extra amenities included a small couch, a smaller kitchen, and a window along the bedroom wall. When Leia sat you on the couch she kneeled in front of you. Her hand went to your cheek and you looked at her for the first time since you'd heard Poe go down. She seemed to almost be in tears but your eyes were dry. You didn't feel anything.

"Y/N, what can I do?" She asked gently. "Do you need anything?" You felt yourself shake your head and open your mouth like you were going to talk but closed it again as you thought.

"He said... He said he was coming back." You stated as if it changed the situation. "He promised." You mumbled.

"I know, Y/N. I am so sorry." She tried to console and your head shook. "We don't know what happened after he went down. You heard the team. He might contact us in the next few days, he is a smart man and he knows how to get a message out. But I don't want it to hurt you more if he never does." She tries to reason and you shook your head.

"No, you don't understand. He promised, " your head was spinning, "he's coming back." You felt tears fall down your face. When had you started crying? "He promised me that he was coming back home." Your voice broke which surprised you. Before you knew it you were crying into Leia's arms and you couldn't stop yourself. That was how you stayed with her for a while after, you weren't sure how long. She shed some tears of her own but eventually you both ran dry. You lost feeling again and you couldn't tell if it was better or worse. You made a decision. You wouldn't grieve over him until you were sure he was not coming back. You wouldn't mourn until you were sure.

The alternative was not, however, to recover. Instead you just stopped doing anything at all. You stopped eating, taking care of yourself, caring. Soon, your friends came in to talk to you. Instead of it being conversation though, they just talked at you. You couldn't bring yourself to respond or really even listen. Or maybe you did but you just couldn't remember. They would periodically come through to help you into a shower in which you just let the water run over you while someone else, you thought maybe Rey but you couldn't even recall, washed your hair. You drank water when they asked and would take a bite of food if they begged but other than that you might as well have been dead to the world. You almost hadn't realized how much of a vital part to your existence Poe was. How little you could bring yourself to do without him. You had thought you were prepared to be separated, you were in the middle of a war after all. Instead it was impossible to do anything without him and you wondered how long you could keep doing it.

This went on for a week. That was how long it took for them to declare him 'killed in action'. They felt that, if he was alive, he would have found a way to contact the base with the help of BB8 and local lifeforms. That was when you allowed yourself to grieve. The numbness turned into pain and it was a million times worse. You would have given anything to go back to numb.

You finally listened to your friends when they talked to you but their consolations did nothing to put you at ease. You still struggled to do anything but you complied with their pleads. You had been convinced, 2 weeks after the KIA announcement, to go to the canteen. To see people and interact. Finn pulled you along with an attempt at a smile on his face. Your face was blank but you tried to soften your eyes. You knew he was trying to help and he was grieving the loss of his best friend as well. When you were pulled into the large cafeteria, all noise ceased. You knew that they were looking at you and you guessed that they pitied you. You had seen yourself in the mirror that morning and you would have pitied you too. You got pulled to a table and Finn went to go get you and himself food.

People periodically came by and said hello or asked how you were as you tried to eat something. You responded with one word answers usually and you hadn't met anyone's eyes. You could feel yourself getting overwhelmed and decided you would head back to your room. You quietly thanked Finn for trying and left to the hallway.

Suddenly, alarms sounded. You were startled into awareness and people began running past you.

'ALL EMERGENCY CREW TO FLIGHT DECK'

You were curious about the alarm but you weren't emergency crew and you knew they didn't need any more bodies there than would already be there. That was until you heard someone as they rushed by as they talked to the medic next to them.

"Yeah I heard it was him but he went missing weeks ago." They sounded confused and continued jogging toward the flight deck. You feet started moving before you could even process it and it was the fastest you'd moved since he had gone missing. Since he had died.

When you got to the flight deck there was already a crowd. You could see over the see a people a beat up X-Wing. You thought you might have heard a droid. You elbowed your way to the front of the crowd, not apologizing when people grumbled their frustrations at you. When you made it to the front you were stood no more than 50 feet from him. He was soot covered and beat up but he was standing as he tried to wiggle out of the grasp of the medics. BB8 beeped and turned, spotting you. He made a loud excited noise and rushed to roll over to you and Poe turned at the sound. When he met your gaze he smiled.

You felt your knees give out and tears start to fall from your eyes. Your arms crossed over your stomach and you started to curl into a ball over your knees. A sob left you and suddenly large warm hands were on your shoulders.

"Y/N? My love, are you okay?" He rushed out, checking over you for injury as the medics still grumbled about needing to see him. His hand came under your chin to move your face so he was making eye contact with you. You let out another sob before grabbing his vest and pulling him into you, he kneeled to the ground as you clung to him and cried into his chest. He moved himself so he was sitting on the ground and he pulled you into his lap. You felt his hands on your back trying to soothe you but you couldn't stop crying. "I'm back. I'm so sorry I was gone but I'm back." He mumbled out as he kissed your head a few times.

"I'm so angry at you." You whispered and he almost laughed, just happy to hear your voice. You finally pulled your head out of his chest and kissed him like your life depended on it, like it was the last time you would ever see him. You pulled away so you were looking into his eyes. "Please don't leave me," you begged almost silently. You weren't even sure if he could hear you. "Please don't leave again."

"I'm not leaving, baby, I promise." He tried to calm you. "I'm right here. I'm okay."

You nodded, trying to convince yourself that he was real and he was here. You kissed him again just to check. You pulled away again, still trying to convince yourself.

"You died." You struggled out and Poe felt tears in his eyes as well. "You were dead, you crashed and you didn't make it and then they said you were gone." You said like that was what happened.

"I didn't die, my love. I'm right here. I'm alive, I'm okay." Poe pleaded and he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his face so you could feel him. Your hand moved along is jaw which was now covered in stubble and grime. Your head shook like you were disagreeing with him but you were simply in disbelief.

"I love you" You mumbled as your eyes traced the lines of his face and tears fell from your eyes. He let a few tears fall as well before pressing meaningful kisses to every part of your face that he could reach.

You spent the next 2 hours like that. You wouldn't leave his hold and he didn't try to move you. The medics worked around you and everyone greeted him without disturbing you. You stayed, on his lap, curled into his chest. Your breathing had slowed to a normal pace and you were holding onto his vest tightly. Eventually, he had to be debriefed. He petted your hair and cooed at you to catch your attention.

"Y/N, my love," he whispered, "we have to get up now." He felt you nod but you made no move to get up from him. He took a breath before moving you off of his lap as you whined, standing up, and then picking you up so you could wrap yourself around him. You hummed contentedly into his chest and he had a smile on his face as he walked through the base.

"I love you." You whispered again into his chest. You had been doing it periodically every so often in the last 2 hours and every time Poe would repeat it back to you, kiss your head, or say something else. This time he chose to kiss your head.

"Baby, I have to go to the debriefing now and you know you can't come with me." He tried to say gently but he knew this separation might be hard for both of you. "I'm gonna put you down." He warned before encouraging your legs to go to the floor. You listened but didn't release his neck which you were also clung to. His hands fell to your waist and you both stood for a moment with your heads in each others necks and breathing deeply. "I'm gonna hand you off to Rey, okay?" He asked as he flagged down Rey from the hallway.

"Okay." You whispered, still not releasing him.

"Hey, Rey, sorry to bother you but could you keep Y/N company for a few minutes while I talk to Leia and the squadron?"

"Oh of course!" Rey chirped and you took a deep breath before releasing Poe. You let him kiss your cheeks and your nose before he walked the other direction toward the command center. You stared at him until Rey put her hand in yours and clasped it. You turned to look at her and for the first time in weeks, she saw you smile. "I'm so happy for you, Y/N." She assured and you believed her.

"Thank you." You whispered and another tear fell from you, this time of joy and happiness. Not grief.

"What do you say to heading to your room and get cleaned up a bit, yeah?" She tried and you nodded, following where her hand lead with one last glance toward the direction that Poe went.

"-the converter didnt even work until a day ago because the main power source broke down." Poe finished explaining his time on the planet he had crashed on and the rest of the squadron nodded and asked a few more questions. Once he was done, Finn met him outside the command center.

"So-" he paused, "I'm not sure how to say this nicely but most of your stuff went into the redistribution center because you were presumed dead." He rushed out. Poe took a moment to process and nodded.

"Well that's sort of a bummer. Could I borrow some of your stuff?" Poe asked, knowing it would take at least a day for him to get reassigned sets of uniforms.

"Yeah of course, that's why I'm standing here waiting for you. You could get cleaned up in my room too if you want. I know Y/N kept a few of your jackets and shirts but most of it got taken." The boys began to walk toward Finn's living quarters and there was a moment of silence before Poe asked something he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to.

"What happened when I was gone?" His throat felt dry suddenly and his words came out hoarse. "To Y/N I mean. Was she okay?" Poe wasn't sure what answer he wanted. He knew from your recent reaction that you were devastated, as he would have been, but he also knew he had a dangerous job. He might not come back from some other mission in the future and he hoped you would survive without him.

"Do you really want to know?" Finn questioned.

Poe nodded.

"I mean, she was broken." He paused to think. "She didn't talk to anyone for a week. Wouldn't move. Wouldn't cry. Rey had to help her shower and we had to beg her to eat. We almost sent her to the med wing because we thought she was gonna pass out from dehydration, she would barely take a sip of water." Poe's heart was in his throat but he was sure there was more. "Then you were pronounced KIA."

"Oh god."

"Yeah it wasn't pretty. They pulled your stuff out of your guys' room, took your name off the ledger. Leia let her keep some stuff but it was hard to watch. She finally cried, she just wouldn't stop. She was more responsive but she wasn't even moving towards okay. You could tell she was only doing what we were asking because we were begging. That she was doing it out of guilt. Today was actually the first day that I talked her into coming out of her room. She had been to the canteen for about an hour when she felt she needed to leave and then alarms sounded that you were back." Finn finished with a glance to his friend and Poe looked like he might throw up.

"I want her to be okay if I don't make it back one day." Poe tried to explain to his friend.

"She probably would have been functioning in a few months. She wouldn't have recovered but she would function. She's a strong woman, but she also loves you a lot. I mean, how would you react if she was killed on mission?" Poe could tell it was a rhetorical question but he thought about it very carefully. You were an engineer so you weren't called out on mission often, not nearly as often as him. When you were, he was worried sick the whole time. He hadn't really thought about how him being gone affected you before. Now looking back on it he kicked himself for it.

Poe thought about what he would have done if you had died and he thought that your reaction was probably mild. That he would have been unresponsive for weeks or even become violent with anger and grief. He knew that you were the one for him, the most important thing in his life, and without you he didn't know if he would find purpose in his life anymore. He fought in the war as hard as he did for you. To make the galaxy safer for you.

When he went MIA it was because he tried to take out a couple more imperial ships than he could handle. He only did it because he knew they would have followed them back to base if they left. Back to you. So he took the risk and it backfired but he knew he would do it again to try and keep the First Order away from you.

He was knocked out of his train of thought by the arrival at Finn's quarters. Poe tried to get cleaned up and dressed quickly, getting the grime off of himself and shaving his face. He hurried back to your shared quarters and when he entered his room he was greeted with your smiling face as you laughed.

You were sat on the bed, Rey on the other end, as you were talking about something which caught you in a fit of giggles. At the sound of him stepping into the room you looked at him and got up quickly to rush up and hug him tightly.

"Missed you." You mumbled into his chest. As he held you Rey silently nodded at Poe and left the room.

"Was only gone for a minute, honey bun." He reassured and you pulled your face back.

"You know I hate that one."

"Boo bear?" he teased and you shook your head no. "Munchkin?" nope. "honey bear?" no thank you. "Baby love?" You tilted your head a bit.

"I don't loathe that one."

"Sweetheart?"

"I like that one."

"Princess?"

"That's my favorite" You giggled and kissed him quickly for a moment. He could have cried at the sight of you giggling. He had missed that, you, the sounds you made, so goddamn much. More than he would ever put into words.

"I know it is, pretty girl." He smiled before picking you up and you squealed. He walked you over to the bed before dropping you on it and laying next to you. You climbed close to him, practically laying on his chest. His arm was snug around your waist and he left no room for you to move, not that you would have anyway. "How would you feel about going to bed, princess?" He almost whispered, not wanting to disrupt the fragile quiet in the room.

"Yes please. I love you Poe." You whispered back and closed your eyes a bit, focussing on his breathing.

"I love you, Y/N" he responded.

You both got the first decent sleep you'd had in weeks that night.

#poe x reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader imagine #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron x reader fluff #poe dameron x y/n #star wars fluff #star wars the force awakens #star wars the last jedi #poe x y/n #poe dameron blurb #poe dameron drabble

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Omg I have an angsty request that I’m sure is going to rip my heart out and light it on fire. It’s a super long and specific request so sorry if I get carried away:

Okay so reader had an unspoken thing in the glade with Gally but then he “died” so over the course of the events of scorch trials she got closer with newt and they start their own unspoken thing. But then in the death cure, newt (realizing he has the flare) starts encouraging her to reconcile with gally because he knows that he’s gonna die and gally will take care of her? But she’s confused on who she loves but kinda clings to what she has with newt because he needs her. And she’s just heart b r o k e n over newt dying but gally helps put her pieces back together in the safe haven and eventually they have their fluffy first time together?

Thanks!

*Fanfare* *Triumphant Music* I finally finished this one! Sorry it took a while, I really wanted this to be perfect. But I think I'm quite happy with how this one turned out! I hope you like it too, sweet Anon. Btw, I know you wanted smut, but I just didn't think it would fit with this one. Sorry, maybe on the next one!

Over 5.2k words, so strap in for a long one y'all

Possible Trigger Warning: Self Harm

~~~~~~~~~~

During your time in the Glade, you were practically attached at the hip with Gally.

He was your best friend, your first go to whenever you had any issues, and you were the same to him.

After his supposed death, you felt a void in your soul. You took on a nihilistic attitude, nothing in life making sense anymore. You didn't care about what happened to you or around you, you wished you had died with Gally, the idea of it being welcomed with open arms.

The thought of dying brought no anxiety, no dread. Even the thought of dying painfully didn't scare you, you wanted it. Everyday you thought about that spear going through Gally's chest, wanting to feel what he must've felt. You wanted to feel the same pain and fear, you wanted to feel like you were dying too.

No rational side of you could explain why you felt this way. Perhaps, if you felt the same pain he felt, maybe it would give some sort of closure. Maybe it would make you feel like you were still close to him, even in death.

It wasn't too long before you decided to act on those feelings. You had been only a knife to your chest, right where your heart was, hyping yourself up to push the blade into your skin.

You didn't want to kill yourself, no. You wanted your death to be natural, not forced. You'd suffer your own existence until your time eventually came like it did for everyone else. But Newt didn't know this when he happened upon you that night, just a couple centimeters of a blade shredding its way into your skin.

Newt panicked, immediately stopping your from hurting yourself, his heart racing at the thought of being too late. But thankfully, he wasn't.

You tried to seem somewhat normal, but the laughter bubbling from your chest couldn't be withheld, making Newt fear that you had lost your mind. He wasn't too far off...

He knew how much Gally's death impacted you, he knew you were in pain every second of every day, but he never thought you'd go so far as hurting yourself. He just silently patched you up, fearing anything he would say from a good place would only upset you further.

Eventually, you explained why you had done what you did. It obviously didn't sit right with Newt. He wasn't particularly close with Gally back in the Glade, but he knew well enough that he wouldn't want you to be living with this mindset.

After a while in the Scorch, you stuck by Newt the most and you started to get better. You felt so empty after Gally's death, leaving a hole in your heart. Newt helped lead you out of that void, trying his best to fit that empty space. But you knew nobody could replace Gally, not even Newt. You knew that space could never be filled, but just seeing Newt try to be that person for you, it was too endearing not to pull at what heartstrings you had left.

Then the complications happened, so much time spent believing that Gally was dead came crashing down as he stood in front of you all, very much not dead.

You thought it had to be a dream, could he really be here?

It was strange. You thought you'd run to him, leap into his arms and kiss all over his face, but you didn't. You stood next to your friends awkwardly as he took off his gas mask. To think you'd be more outwardly happy that someone you cared about was still alive. But you couldn't help the guilt that you felt when Gally said that they left him to die. Sure, it might've not been specifically directed to you, but you felt the sharp sting of his words resonate through you. It almost felt like a strong invisible force hit your funny bone, the volt of uncomfortable aching pain spreading throughout your entire body and leaving you in a breathless agony.

For Gally, he was overjoyed to see you alive and well. He so badly wanted to go to you, feel you in his arms again. But he knew he couldn't, how could he after how he treated everyone back in the Glade?

He didn't remember a lot, but he knew he killed Chuck. The blurry memories of that day, he saw it every night in his dreams. He remembered the sound of the gunshot, the sudden pain in his chest and not being able to breathe. He saw Chuck laying beside him, his expressionless eyes trained on the ceiling, unmoving. His chest wasn't rising and falling like it should've been, blood seeping through his layers of clothing. The most purest soul Gally ever met was dead, and it was his fault.

Gally couldn't even bring himself to look in your direction, he was too disgusted with himself.

Thomas punching Gally wasn't a big shock, he knew he deserved it. But Newt quickly came to his rescue, stopping Thomas from acting out irrationally. But a part of Gally didn't want the Greenie to be stopped. Being punched wasn't something he enjoyed, but Gally would willingly endure whatever punishment that would be inflicted and he'd accept that he deserved it. But nothing he could do or say would bring Chuck back...

When Gally did finally force himself to look at you, he wish he hadn't. You looked indifferent, which never happened with you. He instantly thought that you hated him as much as Thomas did, but then again, he deserved it.

It was really tough for Gally to keep a conversation with everyone while he took them to see Lawrence, especially when he noticed how close you stuck by Newt. But, he supposed it was only natural to find another person to be close to when you've lost someone else, he still couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that bubbled up in his chest. He hated how good you and Newt looked together, you seemed...happy.

At the moment, you weren't even close to happy; you were confused, and angry.

It sounded terrible, but a part of you was angry that Gally was actually still alive. You had to go through the mourning process, and you hadn't even finished it and now all of a sudden, he was alive all this time. It put your emotions on haywire, the most you felt was confusion, and if someone would've told you what you were experiencing was some sort of a twisted dream, you would believe them. But your feet were too sore and sunburn too irritating for this all to be a dream.

You sensed Newt's eyes trained on you, you knew he was probably worried, but you couldn't decide what for. Was he worried that you'd go back to Gally? Was he worried you'd replace him now that he was still alive? Knowing Newt, he probably just wanted to talk to you, but even then, you would have no idea what to say. What do people feel or say in situations like this? You were certain not everyone has to go through the loss of a loved one just to find out that they weren't gone, right?

It was late, and you were exhausted, as was everyone else; but you stayed awake, attempting to sleep only causing you to toss and turn, and eventually giving up. But someone else was awake, you were shocked to see that it was Newt. "What're doing awake?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Could ask you the same thing." You replied, only getting a look from Newt in response. "Couldn't sleep." You sighed, caving in to his concerned expression.

"I know it's not my place," Newt started, wringing his hands together nervously, "but, you haven't said a word to Gally." You knew he was going to bring that up, you had that feeling as soon as he saw you were still awake. "I know it was a shock, to all of us. But I thought it'd effect you the most, to be quite honest. You two were pretty close..."

You shrugged weakly, shaking your head. "I don't know what to tell you. Was I supposed to react a certain way? Was I supposed to drop to my knees and burst into tears or something?"

Newt grimaced. "No...of course you're not supposed to act a certain way. It's just a bit strange to me that you haven't tried to speak to him at all."

"I don't even know what I'd say to him." You chuckled bitterly.

"I know you and Gally had something, something special. That sort of thing doesn't just go away. You were absolutely gutted after what happened, this is a chance to reconnect. You care about him, a lot."

"Hey, that doesn't change the way I feel about you. I care about you a lot too."

Newt smiled weakly. "I know, but I really think you should go and talk to him."

You could tell he was being sincere, but you couldn't understand why. You two had grown close over the past several months, so why would he want you to reconnect with someone you used to be even closer with? You weren't really given the time to think over it more before Newt was quickly encouraging you to speak with Gally, telling you where his room was, somehow knowing this conversation would happen and finding out beforehand.

Just a few moments later, you found yourself outside of Gally's door, fist extended out to hover over the worn wood, but you couldn't bring yourself to knock. Thinking back to how hard you tried to avoid Gally when he came back, what if he thought you hated him? What if he didn't want to talk to you?

But before you could chicken out, you forced yourself to knock on Gally's door without thinking, soon hearing the thud of footsteps nearing. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open, anxiety gripping your mind so intensely that it almost triggered your fight or flight response. But Gally's almost hopeful and shocked expression when he saw you waiting relaxed you a little bit. "...hi." Gally voiced, the nervous and confused tone to his voice not going unnoticed by you.

"Hi." You replied, your voice probably just as shaky and nervous as his.

"Uh, come in." He said quickly, moving out of the doorframe, his hands slightly shaking when he motioned you to enter his room.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, so fast and hard that you were worried Gally would be able to hear it. Your hands were shaking, as well as your legs as you walked into his room, it was a miracle you didn't collapse right then and there. You tried not to jump as you heard the click of his door closing, you tried to take deep calming breaths before Gally turned to face you, the two of you almost on complete opposite sides of the room just standing awkwardly.

You stared at Gally, your gaze running up and down his body but ultimately stopping to stare at his chest. Tears quickly came to your eyes as you saw how healthy he looked, like a spear wasn't embedded in his chest months ago. You couldn't stop the flow of whimpers that came from your throat, putting your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment. You felt your face start to burn as you felt Gally's arms wrap around you as soon as you started to cry, but his warmth comforting you only caused you to let out more tears.

You never thought you'd be in his arms again.

Gally stood there silently, holding you and just trying to soothe you as best he could. In the back of his mind, he was astonished that you even let him come near you, you had avoided him altogether up until this moment. But the whimpers he heard coming from you, seeing the tears spilling from your eyes, he instinctively went to hug you. He also couldn't ignore the guilt he felt, thinking that you were crying because of him. He hated it. But you hugged him back tightly, burying your face in his chest and trying to stifle your sobs.

"You're here..." You cried softly, "you're really here..."

Gally's lip trembled, tears of his own brimming his eyes at how much pain you must've been in thinking he was dead all this time, your voice giving away your feelings. He exhaled shakily, "I am here." He placed a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm here."

For a few minutes, you and Gally just held each other silently. You both needed this, understanding how badly you missed one another. Soon, you were able to calm yourself, but you still didn't pull away. Gally only pulled away slightly so he could see your face, frowning when he saw your eyes were puffy and tearstained. "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. "What happened wasn't your fault, Gally." You said genuinely. No matter how much pain and anger you felt about what happened to Chuck, you never once blamed him. You knew W.C.K.D. killed him, and every other Glader who died. But Gally's frown told you everything you needed to know; he still blamed himself.

"I should've gone with you." He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "How can you even stand the sight of me?"

"Because I know you never would've killed anyone if you weren't stung, especially Chuck."

Hearing Chuck's name out loud made tears brim Gally's eyes once more, tightening his fists in anger at himself. "Chuck deserved so much better...he wasn't supposed to die..." He cried, causing you to pull him back into your embrace, rubbing his back while trying to not to cry again.

"None of us deserved to get experimented on."

Eventually, you lead Gally to sit next to you on his bed, holding his hand. It felt so right to be sitting there with Gally, you missed him so much that you despised ever feeling even the slightest bit of anger when you first saw that Gally was alive. But one emotion did not go away, you still felt confused.

While sitting there with Gally, you couldn't help but think about Newt. He was so adamant about you reconciling with Gally, was he hoping that something would happen between you two? You truly cared a lot about Newt, and you knew he felt the same way, so you couldn't understand why he was acting this way.

You sighed softly when you started to feel sleepy, standing up slowly. "I should probably head back."

Gally quickly stood up with you. "Uh, you could stay here if you want?" He stammered, causing you to smile a little.

"That's okay. I already had a sleeping bag set up for me downstairs, so..."

Gally tried to hide his disappointed frown, choosing to walk up to you until you two were face to face. Maybe it was too soon, but ever since he saw you, Gally had the strongest urge to place his lips on yours. He missed your soft lips that he only had the privilege of feeling a few times back in the Glade before everything happened. He gently grabbed hold of your jaw, tilting your face up and leaning forward slowly.

You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. But before his lips could connect, Newt's face popped up in your mind and you couldn't, you forced yourself to turn away.

You tried not to look at Gally's face, knowing that he'd probably look like a kicked puppy. You couldn't, it would be too painful. "It's Newt." Gally frowned, taking a step back.

Your eyes widened, finally taking a glance over to him to indeed see that his expression was one of disappointment and sadness. "I never said-"

"You didn't have to." Gally interrupted. "I see the way you look at him...it's how you used to look at me." You stayed silent, a feeling of guilt washing over you. "I don't blame you, Y/n, for finding someone else. I'd never expect you to grieve over me forever, that's too selfish."

Hearing this, you had a terrifying thought that you needed to voice out loud. "Did you ever find someone else?" You asked nervously, afraid of his answer.

"No..." He smiled weakly, "No one that could ever compare to you."

You hated that you felt relieved, you were the one who seemed to be selfish. But, you couldn't just drop what you had with Newt now that Gally's still alive. You couldn't say anything else, what could you say to that?

"You should get some sleep." Gally said, opening his door and motioning you to get out.

"Gally..." You whispered.

"Please. Just...we have a busy day tomorrow."

You sighed. You couldn't argue with him.

Newt watched you walk back downstairs, getting into your sleeping bag with a very prominent frown. Doesn't seem like it went well, he thought. He felt relieved and frustrated at the same time. Newt really cared for you, he could even go as far as saying he loved you, but he needed you and Gally to get back together, or become friends again at least.

It wasn't too long ago that Newt found out he had the Flare. He saw the black and purple veins slowly travelling up his arm, and the pain, the pain was the worst part. You had already gotten close to him, so he was heartbroken to know that you'd just lose another person you cared for. After Gally, he knew you wouldn't be able to handle another loss. So when Gally showed up out of the blue, it was like a miracle, Newt's prayers had been answered.

Newt felt jealousy, of course, he wanted to stay with you. He didn't want Gally to take you from him, but what use would he be when he was dead or a Crank? He tried not to be angry with you, it wasn't your fault how you were feeling, but he needed to know you'd be okay when he was gone.

Newt did try talking to you about it, but you always changed the subject or simply didn't answer him. Before you all knew it, it was time to start planning Minho's rescue mission. Thomas didn't want to use Teresa, and hearing that only made Newt's anger bubble to the surface.

It wasn't like Newt to lash out like that, he was always so calm and relaxed. Maybe the stress finally got to him, maybe it was something else...

You immediately followed after Newt when he stormed out after yelling at Thomas, not knowing that Gally's sad eyes were following you. You couldn't think of anything else, you just had to know that Newt was okay.

You found Newt on the roof, sitting on the ledge. "Newt?" You asked, concerned. "Are you okay...?" You stepped closer captiously, finally taking a seat next to him.

Newt only smiled bitterly. "No...no, not really."

You sighed, looking out to the horizon, trying to find the right words to say. "We all thought Teresa was our friend...it's okay to be angry."

Newt shook his head. "It's not that."

You furrowed your brows. "Then, why did you lash out at Thomas?"

Newt bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He never wanted you to find out this way. He didn't even want you to know. But after that scene he made, he knew there was no point in hiding it anymore.

Tears came to your eyes as Newt lifted up his jacket sleeve, revealing his discolored arm. You knew what it was immediately, seeing it on every Crank you came across. "No..." You whispered. "No."

"I know I probably shouldn't have kept it from you, but I was scared. I still am."

"We'll fix it!" You quickly said, it sounding more like a plead. "We'll find another cure!"

Newt only gave you a weak smile. "I don't think that's a possibility right now, love. Besides, Minho needs us."

"No, you're not allowed to give up like that, Newt. We'll find something to help you. If Brenda was cured, so can you. Teresa might-"

"Please, Y/n." Newt voiced sharply. "Please...just stop. I don't need false hope."

Before you could say anything else, you heard the roof access door open, Thomas walking up to the two of you. "Y/n, can I, uh, talk to Newt? Alone?"

You looked to Newt, who nodded, signaling for you to leave. You stood up, speed walking inside and down the stairs. The tears kept falling, blurring your vision, and you had no idea what to do. Newt was dying, and there was nothing that you could do about it, and it didn't seem like he was too eager to try and find a cure. You hoped Thomas could talk some sense into him. But in that moment, your feet subconsciously took you to Gally's little apartment. You stood in front of the door in tears, wishing that you didn't feel the urge to find comfort in him when Newt was sick. But, you knocked on the door, quickly placing yourself in Gally's arms as soon as he was in front of you.

Gally didn't know what was wrong, he barely got a good look at your face before you threw yourself at him. But the way you were shaking and whimpering, he knew you were crying, and he didn't have the heart to pull away from you. He walked backwards and shut his door, leading you to sit down on his bed with him. He just held you as you cried, leaning his head down on top of yours until you calmed down. He finally spoke when your cries were just quiet sniffles. "What happened?"

You exhaled a shaky breath, lifting your head to look at Gally. "Newt has the Flare..."

"W-What...?" Had Gally heard that right? Could his mind be playing tricks on him? He just assumed everyone that was in the Glade was immune, that's why they were there, right? But you repeated what you had said, confirming what Gally thought he heard. "I...I'm so sorry..." That's all Gally could say. He wasn't very well spoken in these types of situations, all he could do was bring you back into another hug.

You finally understood why Newt was pushing you to get close to Gally again; he wanted you to be close to someone when he died.

Yet another situation that had you confused. You knew you loved Gally, you always had, he was your best friend. But now you had Newt, he helped you through everything while in the Scorch, helped you try to overcome your grieve and probably saved your life multiple times. How could you possibly make a decision like this?

You and Gally never put a label on what you had in the Glade, and nobody asked either, not even Alby. You both just knew that you cared for one another, that you'd do anything for the other. But as time went on, you felt guilty knowing what you'd ultimately choose. It was always going to be a lose lose for you.

Newt needed you, and you couldn't leave him when he needed you the most.

Gally, deep down, knew what your decision was going to be. You had a big heart. You never would leave anyone behind, even if they were infected. Back in the Glade, Gally wouldn't have hesitated in sacrificing the few to save the many, but you were never like that. You cared about everyone, especially the people who were closest to you. You never were going to give up on Newt, you couldn't now. You would spend as much time with him as possible, what little time he might've had left. And you did, until he took his final breath.

You felt like you were a glass vase that had been shattered, and every time you tried to pick up the pieces, the glass would just cut deeper and deeper into your skin. It felt like life didn't want you to be put back together. Nothing felt real. Everything that happened in the Last City felt like a fever dream. You hoped that one day you'd wake up and you'd be back in the Glade, everyone was still alive. Maybe if you could go back in time, maybe you could save everyone, maybe you could've convinced Gally to listen to Thomas, maybe you could've held off Newt a bit longer in time for Brenda to give him the cure.

A lot of maybe's, a lot of hopes and prayers, never answered.

Now in the Safe Haven, you felt anything but safe.

You didn't talk to anyone for awhile, not even Gally. You had nothing to say, and you were afraid of breaking down in front of everyone. So, you isolated yourself. And then a couple weeks later, you finally felt everything bubble to the surface.

Sitting down somewhere along the coastline, not too close to the water, but close enough that you could feel the salty breeze of the waves hit you gently as the evening cooled when the sun started to go set.

You tucked yourself up into a ball, your knees as close as you could get them to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. And, you cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. The ugly kind of crying. Your tears weren't coming out one eye at a time in a perfectly straight line down your face like in the movies, you weren't making quiet sniffles or whimpers, you were full on sobbing. Tears came out of your eyes so fast that you could barely make out the sun on the horizon, your shirt sleeves were most definitely covered in snot and whatever salty tears it had the chance to catch. Your throat felt like it was being torn apart by how intense your sobs were. The sobs sounded more like you were having a coughing fit, one of those phlegmy hacking coughs that made you feel like you were going to vomit.

You knew you most likely weren't far enough away from the camp to quiet your weeping, and you knew you were just embarrassing yourself, arranging for yourself to be completely humiliated the next morning when you had to face everybody. But in the moment, you couldn't care less. You loss someone so important to you, it felt like losing Gally all over again. But you knew this time, it was final. No surprise resurrections this time. You felt completely, and utterly, alone.

But you never were.

You felt so dissociated and detached from yourself, the wails of grief too much for your body to handle. You couldn't feel anything around you, not the warmth of the sand, not the slight chill breeze, not even Gally's arms wrapped around you tightly. You didn't realize until you passed out from exhaustion, waking up the next morning in a bed that wasn't yours, and a hut that wasn't yours.

Your vision was still a little bit blurry, all the tears from the night previous crusting to the creases around your eyes, making it a bit of a challenge opening them all the way. But, your other sense were intact enough to tell you that bacon and eggs were next to you on a bedside table. You hadn't eaten the day before, so it was mostly a primal reaction to quickly take the plate and gobble up the food.

You still had to rely on context clues to figure out where you were in the camp. As much as your eyes irritated you, they could now finally work once you were wide awake. You probably should've known immediately who's hut it was, but seeing that familiar grey knitted hoodie settled ungracefully over the backrest of a chair, you knew it was Gally's.

You blushed quickly after that realization. How did he know where you were, and how much did he see? The thought of him seeing you in such a state made you cringe. But what was more horrifying was that Gally was right outside the room, waiting for you to wake up. "Hey..." He voiced, his eyebrows knitted in concern, eyes full of sadness.

You had to look away, the heat rushing to your face making you feel like you were going to pass out again. "Hi." You croaked, your vocal cords still sore and raw.

Gally shifted his weight nervously, taking a step closer to you. "I'm sorry, for bringing you here...I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself." You snapped you gaze back to him in confusion, him quickly blushing, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, Newt told me about what you did to yourself after...after the Maze."

You self-consciously rubbed the spot on your chest where a big scar still remained. "I wasn't trying to...you know, kill myself or anything."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." He said softly, taking a seat on the bed next to you.

You sighed, crossing your arms. "I just...I didn't know what I was thinking."

Gally gently grabbed ahold of your hand, making you uncross your arms, letting his warm hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. Newt should be here with the rest of us. He was a good person."

You nodded as tears came to your eyes again, burning enough to make you whimper, and you leaned your head against Gally's shoulder. "I miss him so much." You cried.

Eventually, you and Gally became close again. He was always there for you. Whenever you had nightmares, whenever you were lonely, whenever you needed anything, Gally would always be there. You started to feel your relationship had almost gotten back to the point where it was in the Glade, it had been almost a year, but you still felt it was too early to be moving on. A part of you didn't want to move on, but you knew that's not what Newt wanted either.

You didn't read the note Newt wrote to you when Thomas first gave it to you. The grief was still too near, and you didn't know if you could handle it. But a couple months after your breakdown, you finally read it. Newt loved you, he had always loved you. And he wanted you to be happy, he didn't want you to be sad that he was gone, even though he knew it would be impossible. But he knew you would be okay, he knew Gally would protect you no matter what. Reading his note was part of the reason you knew it would be okay to be with Gally, it just took you some time.

One day, you and Gally were taking a break from working, just sitting near the forest tree line, and you did it; you kissed him, and you couldn't stop, you didn't want to stop. And you didn't, and neither did Gally.

After that, it was almost impossible to spend any time away from each other.

You never thought you'd smile again, but Gally always found a way. He made you so happy, and it made you cry one night when you finally realized that you were happy, and you knew somewhere out there, it made Newt happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cries in Español

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #newt x reader #newt imagine #tmr newt #tmr gally #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally

[lailnii]

— i can’t

gojo satoru x gn!reader [angst/nsfw!]

summary; gojo satoru was about as enigmatic as he was simplistic in his needs from you. sex, words of praise during, and lack of any kind of emotional attachment. he was, in his own words, too old for that shit. and it was too boring for him to keep up with anyone else's emotional well being than his own.

word count; 1.2k

warning; 18+ content, toxic relationships, verbal abuse, angst, biting, blood, minors dni

a/n; hey, guys! this is my first time writing angst so please be nice. also i would love for you guys to leave a comment.

you knew it. your friends knew it. even he knew it. everyone told you, frequently, that this wasn’t healthy.

pain. that’s all you felt, or feeling so desolate you could barely function for days at a time. you didn’t eat. you could barely sleep. when you did it was rife with nightmares, you woke up with your sheets soaked with sweat.

you mourned the loss of the early days, those few good hours spent with him when it was just — simple. or as simple as it could get with gojo satoru. but somewhere along the line you'd begun to feel different when he wasn't around, like there was something missing, something just out of reach that didn't need to be.

it scared you.

but it scared him even more. you knew that now, after — everything.

he wasn’t one to linger after he finished, chasing his high after he bought yours out of you. that had been fine, up until things got complicated. one afternoon as you lie in your bed, sheets tangled around your leg and feeling his cum still tricking out of you, your whole body felt like it had been dunked into ice cold water. he’d long since let, stepping through your bedroom door with a slurred ‘thanks, babe,’ and you missed him. for the first time after two dozens or so visits like this, you missed him.

you didn’t even know what you’d missed. just him.

that was the start of the end.

gojo satoru was about as enigmatic as he was simplistic in his needs from you. sex, words of praise during, and lack of any kind of emotional attachment. he was, in his own words, too old for that shit. and it was too boring for him to keep up with anyone else's emotional well being than his own.

so it was strange when he lingered, once or twice. held you against his chest, caging you in with his arms and holding on so tight those bruises lasted far longer than the others he’d inflicted. his breathing still ragged against your neck, and you could feel his heart beating so hard it seemed like his ribs could barely hold it from breaking out. sometimes it was just a brushing of his fingers on the small of your back, his eyes studying the curves of your face. in those moments you felt the most alive, like you were his equal, and when he would brush his soft lips, so gentle it fucking hurt. it felt real.

but he couldn’t do ‘real.’ he couldn’t cling, couldn’t let you cling, couldn’t tolerate the burgeoning need for — something. and while you did, while you tried to hold yourself back and tell yourself to stop, stop, he doesn’t care he can’t care just stop, you could feel him slipping through your fingers.

when you weren’t trying to relive those brief moments when everything felt right, even if you two didn’t fit like puzzle pieces, you were reliving the moments that hurt. the callous words, the bruises, the times when all you were to him was a hole to get off in. the worried glances, the angry friends, the content lectures from the elders because eventually he decided he didn’t give a damn about your schedule. 

you made it work, you did. because if you didn’t, he’d stop coming.

he didn't care. he didn't show that he cared, and you tried to ignore it. when that didn't work, you just — let yourself fall into it. and you fell deeper, and deeper, until the colors of the world were all blurred together in a gray mess and the only hue you could see was white, blue, and washed out skin.

the last time got ugly. he lacked the finesse he usually had; and you were desperate, needy in the worst way. he complained that you were holding on too tight, you swallowed the protests when he drove too fast and too hard when he'd barely spent a second trying to prepare you. there was blood on your sheets from where he'd bitten into the meat of your shoulder, and god it hurt it hurt it hurt, but it was nothing compared to the yawning, gaping black hole in your chest.

when he pulled out, he barely made any noise. just came all over your back with your face in the pillows, then sat on the edge of your bed. eventually your fingers uncurled from the sheets so you could grope around for the rag you'd had waiting for this, but you could barely lift your arm you were shaking so hard.

“sorry,” he grunted, and dropped the rag next to your head. the floorboards creaked as he stood, the hiss of his zipper signaling he was about to leave.

“I can't—“ two words. that was all it took. it didn't make the world go still; you could hear the rasp of cloth on your back as you tried to clean up the mess. stared at the wall, shame washing over you as you reached up to press the clean side against the open wounds on your shoulder. but those two words made him stop.

that, for whatever reason, was enough to punch through the walls you'd built around the tangled and snarling ball of your emotions. tears flowed down your face, freely, and you weren't sure why you weren't trying to hide it but you began to sob.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you said again, the words broken, about as broken as you were under his impassive stare.

“you think I give a shit?” you thought you'd be numb to it, but the words cut you deep, reaching into the black hole that swallowed up everything that made you a functioning adult and destroying what was left. everything hurt, from the inside out, and you felt your barely contained resolve snap like a thread. but gojo wasn't done yet. “you think I give two shits about whatever the fuck it is you can or can't do?! I'm not your boyfriend you needy little shit. take care of this mess yourself, we're fucking done here.”

“— don’t come back.”

he froze again. you felt terror welling up in your throat at your own words; had you really said them? When he faced you, you barely caught the stricken look on his face, and you knew you had. you really had. but the emptiness in your stomach from the past two days of barely eating, the fatigue that made it nearly impossible to lift your head for long enough to meet his eyes as he steeled his gaze into a scowl pushed you, steeled your nerves for long enough to continue.

“don't you fucking come back here, gojo. I'm done. I can't keep doing this.” you pushed yourself on shaking arms until you were sitting up, and then stood in front of him. if you were going to kick him out of your life, you weren't going to do it lying in a puddle of his cum and your blood. “get the hell out.”

the silence that stretched between you was unbearable. you couldn't hear anything above the ringing in your ears, but you could see his chest expanding erratically, see the tic in his jaw and the flare of his nostrils.

“fine.” that was it.

just like that, he was gone.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo angst #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen gojo

[mailboxmerchant]

winning!Ranmaru Kageyama x Reader: What Have You Done?!

a/n: i just finished the most recent installment in yttd andn holy fuck,,,,,,winner! ranmaru just. holy shit! i love him so much. (also i guess you sort of take saras place? like shes there but youre ranmarus buddy instead and uhh hc that she got joe’s doll for a partner because i love thme) hgnghgh)\

also please leave requests!!! please!!!! for almost any character from almst any fandom!!!!!! please!!!!!!

also this is....a long one. probably gonna be a two parter! <3

“I’ll hold him back, just go! Reko...she....she’s-” 

Watching with the others in the classroom as Kurumada held Ranmaru to the ground by his head, you looked down at Ranmaru’s pleading expression. 

Before you could reach for him though, you were quickly ushered out by your panicked friends and allies.

Ranmaru....what did you...

◤...three hours prior to this...◢

“Keiji! I’m here! Please come out, everyone is so worried!”

“y/n....”

“Are you...there Keiji?”

A hand that clamped around your shoulder sent you into shock as you sprawled forward to the ground. “Waugh!!! Wh-who!?!?” You whipped yourself around to face a concerned looking Ranmaru.

“Heya y/n.” He said with a smirk and a wave. “Gah! Ranmaru, you scared me...!”

“Clearly.” He smiled as he offered a hand out to you. You gave him a pleased smile as you took his hand. “So....Keiji was a no-show, huh?” 

“I mean, Sara was too worried to go alone so I offered to go in her place...but it looks like we should have followed Keiji’s instructions, huh?” You laughed dejectedly, as the missing friendly policeman’s absence was beginning to create a deep worry in the back of your mind. 

The expression on your face seemed to clearly resemble your disappointment of not finding him, as a pair of fingers snapped out in front of you. 

“Heeey? Earth to y/n, I asked you a question. You alright?” 

You gave a curt, polite nod. “Sorry, yeah, what did you say again?”

Ranmaru sighed as he patted your back, “Man, you’re a mess today, eh? I asked....ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴹᵃᵖˡᵉ ˢᵃᶦᵈ....” The last part was quietly spoken, but you heard what he said, and you knew what he meant.

“What!? You mean about what she about....winning?” Ranmaru’s uneasy expression meant that was exactly what he was talking about. 

“We can’t! E-everyone has been...working so hard together, and with you all as our new allies-” “They’re not all your allies. We were made to get rid of you humans, but Maple told me something the rest of them don’t know. Why won’t you let me act on it?! I can save us, save you!”

“That’s enough! I can’t...hear you say that. Not you, Ranmaru, please.” 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, y/n, I swore I’d protect you. Reko, Sara, Keiji, everyone! I’ll kill them, and I’ll get you out of this horrible game!”

As if the idea of winning crossing Ranmaru’s mind at all hadn’t hurt enough to hear about, here was your partner for this entire floor’s length of horrors telling you he’d kill all your allies to save the both of you.

Ranmaru wasn’t wrong. You were tired. You wanted to go home. You missed your friends, and your regular old life. You adored Ranmaru, and even without knowing what to do after this could end, you wanted to have him by your side.

What am I thinking?!

“Ranmaru! I don’t want you to protect me. I want us to all escape together, and I could never ask you to betray our allies!”

Something about the way you delivered that line stuck with Ranmaru though. You couldn’t ask him? Then you didn’t have to. He’d help you, and he’d take all the responsibility too. All the guilt, the hardships, the terror? He could handle it...if it was for you. You and him were going to win, and you were going to live. And after all his efforts, maybe, just maybe, you could be his.

And with the seeds sown, Ranmaru’s mind began racing with ways to get every single human and doll eliminated before they could realize what was going on. 

And that would begin with the lovely, unknowing Ms. Reko.

◤...present time...◢

“Oh...no....” Sara uttered, her breath entirely taken away from the sight before us.

The magnetic trap mechanism in the locker room had been activated while Reko was in it. “Reko, please, no...holy shit...” Q-taro mourned. Her grotesquely snapped neck was just barely holding her entirely hanging body to the ceiling by her collar.

Everyone was whispering their words of loss and grief. You couldn’t speak though. You instantly made the connection between Kuramada tackling Ranmaru and what he had said about getting here quickly. This was preventable. And actually....

This was your fault.

Ranmaru wanted you to win, and he wanted you to take him with you. You didn’t chastise him enough to stop this, and now Reko’s blood and tears were on your hands. 

The quiet stip-step of shoes tapping on the concrete floor sprung you from your remorseful daze. “y-y/n...I swear...I didn’t-” 

A louder, heavier pair of feet could be heard hitting the solid ground harshly. 

“Bastard! You’ll pay for what you’ve done!! My trust, their trust, you’ve ruined everything!” Kurumada went in for a swing as Ranmaru barely dodged him, bumping his backside into your front.

“NO! It wasn’t me! I wasn’t even anywhere near this room, I was with y/n!” 

“That was a whole goddamn hour ago, you lying piece a’ shit! You woulda been in the control room well after that!”

“Why would I kill Reko?! I had no motive to kill the humans, our tasks were erased and our connections were cut! I would never-”

“Bullshit. No motive? What was all that crap about winning for, then?”

Ranmaru fell silent.

“You...you thought I was dead. And you thought you could leave the transceiver on and cheer yourself on for winning the game, huh?!”

Ranmaru’s silence persisted, your stomach dropping further than you thought possible. 

He took a slow inhale...

“Yeah. I did think you were dead, but now I see you’re just as big of an obstacle as ever. All you damn dolls. I’ll get rid of you all, and y/n and I are gonna win.”

“Ranmaru...”

“I didn’t think I’d get caught on the first try, I mean geez! I really hoped it’d be easier than this, that I could be stealthy, but apparently not...” 

It was like his entire demeanor changed. His usual hesitance to speak, his more crouched and small frame, and his kind meekness were all completely stripped away, replaced by this malicious, devious darkness that seemed to emanate off his body.

“Well, well! Somethin’ fun’s happening in here, amirite?!”

“M-Midori!?” You cried out as his arm creepily slung around your shoulder. You backed away as Ranmaru stayed staring him down. “Ohh, what perfect timing. Midori...I have a deal for you, something to keep this game interesting.” Ranmaru sounded like a perfect copy of Midori, it was beginning to frighten you. Reko’s body still left all the survivors in shock, no one but the three dolls who were as lively as ever being able to speak.

“ ᴿᵃⁿᵐᵃʳᵘ...ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ...“ You finally uttered. 

“What might this deal be, my pathetic doll?” Scoffing at his comment, Ranmaru pleads with him, “If you could just please...kill the dolls. Leave me as the sole doll and I swear I’ll give you a show you’ll never forget.” You weren’t sure what made you sicker, the grin that was spread across both Ranmaru’s and Midori’s faces, or the dark tone Ranmaru suddenly took, his genuineness shining through. He would kill every survivor. You might really win, and you still didn’t know what to think about it. 

The tension in the room was so thick you could slice through it with a knife. Everyone's eyes were trained on you, Ranmaru, and Midori. You felt sick, the energy of the room suffocating you slowly.

"I think I could do something like that."

As if it couldn't drop any lower, your organs practically just disappeared from inside you. "H-hey, you're not...serious, are ya?" Q-taro finally spoke up, the first of the survivors to actually something.

"Why wouldn't I be? This deal is of great benefit to me....and y/n it seems." Midori's tucked in smile sent shivers down your spine as he stared at you with his widened eyes.

"First though...the banquet has to happen."

The reminder brought the most sincere relief you'd ever felt in your life. You still had time to convince Ranmaru not to go through with his ridiculous sabotage plan.

The room calmed as everyone slowly and hesitantly made their way back to the graveyard. How was anyone supposed to work together after something like that...?

◤...to be continued (eventually)...◢

I HAD TO END THIS BECAUSE I WAS SLOWLY FORGETTING WHERE I WAS GOING WITh thIS SO ILL START WITH THE BANQUET IN THE NEXT PART TY FOR READING PLEASE REQUESTS MWAH ILY BYE BYE<3

#ranmaru kageyama #ranmaru #ranmaru yttd #ranmaru kageyama yttd #ranmaru x reader #ranmaru kageyama x reader #yttd x reader #x reader #yttd #ranmaru x reader yttd #yttd ranmaru x reader #kageyama ranmaru x reader #your turn to die #your turn to die fanfic #your turn to die ranmaru #ranmaru your turn to die

[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.

#aot #attack on titan #levi x reader #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi ackerman

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 2

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Sky:

- It started slow and very sweet.

- He took a long time realizing who you were. But he still believed in the others when they started to recognize you.

- When your behind him cheering you on, he feels invincible. Since during his adventure Impa tore into him pretty badly when he was late to save Zelda.

- Your presence is comforting to him. It feels like home despite being on the ground.

___________________________________

Being back in Skyloft was a small blessing for the chain. The tight knit community had already welcomed the travelers with little to no questions about their origins. It was a stroke of luck that they landed in front of the bazaar in the early morning when no one else was up yet. Their first day there was a resting day in attempt to gather information on the black blood monsters and inventory checks.

Sky took his time catching up with everyone. Letting the Headmaster and Sun know about the situation that had the hero hopping around in the timeline. Then he needed to go down to the small settlement on the surface to check on them. Sun did already tell him that things where still safe down there and that he should take a break. But he still would rather check it out himself just in case something did happen it better to be safe than sorry.

Despite being able to jump off from any of the decks in Skyloft. He automatically went towards the plaza near the tower of light. During his adventure it was the quickest way to the opening above Faron Woods. Sky was just turning the bend when he saw his Loftwing was already there on the docks and under its wing was You. You were trying to put a small amount of distance between you and the bird but the creature kept bring you closer to hold.

“(Y/n)!” Sky was baffled at his Loftwings reactions to you. He dashes to your side. “I’m so sorry. He isn’t normally like this.”

“It’s fine.” Your uncontrollable laughter the was full with childlike glee finally reached him. “In fact, I think he recognizes me!” You whispered smiling. The Crimson Loftwing cooed now leaning into his masters touch as Sky softly pet the side of his necks. Sky wondered if what you said was the truth. Since a Loftwing and its rider do share a special connection, it’s fully possible that his also felt and heard you. “Hey Link?” Suddenly your demeanor changed. “Can I ask something?”

Your bashful and embarrassed expression made Sky feel soft inside. “Of course.”

“One of these days can you show me around the sky or the surface?” You shifted awkwardly from him. He actually forgot that you haven’t physically been to his era before. That for the longest time you only saw things from his point of view without the ability to truly explore anything. “You don’t need to- “

“Are you free now?” He quickly cut you off. “I was actually heading down there now to check on the settlement.”

“Really?” Your face seems to brighten but then you remembered something and leaned closer to him whispering again “I don’t have a Loftwing though.”

He gently takes your hand “my Loftwing is strong enough for both of us.” He guided you to his side. You eyed the bird with uncertainty but you let him help you up onto the harness. Sky got on behind you reaching around you to get the reins. “Hold on to me if you get scared.” He teasingly warned and before you could question him. His Loftwing took off nose diving off of the deck.

You let out a small squeak as you latched onto his tunic. Sky almost felt bad that he actually scared you. But once in the air and on a steady path you finally opened your eyes again. “Woah!” The sight was nothing special but it was still just as beautiful. The clouds below them created an endless sea of white. “It’s so pretty.” Pride bubbled up as Sky watch you taken in the beauty of his home. This was just the start of what he wanted to show you as different locations came into his mind. “Hey.” You looking over your shoulder with hope in your eyes. ”Next time can we go to the Lumpy Pumpkin? I remember you singing high praises about their pumpkin soup.”

Sky tried to think of what he wanted to do tomorrow, right now there wasn’t anything that needed his attention. “If we have time tomorrow, I can take you there for lunch or dinner.” Maybe he could take a break from being a hero for a bit.

“Great! It’s a date then.” You sent a wink his way that sent his brain into a haywire before looking back into the endless sky. He was lucky his Loftwing is able to steer himself. As dot’s where finally connecting in Sky’s head. Pure love and affection bubble up as he embraces his new found feelings.

- He will be the one to uno reverse card on you. All love and affection will drown you instead. There was so much he wanted to tell you before to thank you for being by his side and encouraging him.

- Cuddle time will start here because of his need to make sure you know your loved too.

- He would be the one to confess first, but it would probably be played off as friends telling each other that they love each other.

- You’re not dense but overly affectionate. He might just need to spell out how you make him feel on a daily basis. Maybe then you’ll understand what you’re doing to him.

___________________________________

Legend:

- It hit him like a freight train.

- He isn’t mad at you. He is mad at himself. He had made his dues with what the people he had lost. Yet here he is. Already going too far.

- Your ability to make the situation brighter slowly eroded the walls he put up years ago.

- It might be all in his head, but he swears that you always make sure his needs are met even if he is trying to hide them.

___________________________________

“Link!!!” You barreled towards him ignoring the questioning stares the people of Windfall Island. “Link! Link! Link! LOOK!!!” You hold up a pink rabbit stuffed animal that you bought. “It you!”

The veteran in question huffed, “seriously of all things.” He turned on his heels “I’m going back on the ship.” He didn’t know why he was still entertaining your antics at that point.

“Wha- Hey! I was joking!” They were stocking up in Windfall and Legend was not happy to be on a boat nor in the ocean again. He wouldn’t say that he afraid.

Just… cautious…

You on the other hand looked like you were having the time of your life on the ship talking the it’s Captain and crew member’s. Yet most of the time you would stay by his side. The reason was obvious but nether wanted to talk about it.

Which is why you dragged him out to the port island. ‘An easy distraction.’ You told him, ‘I can show you around so we won’t get lost!’ He wasn’t worried about that. Legend trusted you. A fact he will never say out loud. However, he would rather hole up somewhere and escape the world then be here.

A soft hand took his when Legend reached the docks. He already knew who it was since you’ve been following him like a lost puppy all day. “One more place please?” You looked at him expectingly. “Then you can go back.”

“What are you a child? Why can’t you just go alone?” Legend snapped back, “you don’t have to be around me.”

“Legend I like being with you.” You pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “However.” You let go of his hand. “I also understand if you don’t want to hang out anymore and want to go rest.” There was no fighting back. No offense to his words. Nothing. Just a warm smile that filled him with warmth, that was accompanied by words fueled by unlimited care and understanding which made his heart beat faster. The silence between you two seemed to give you an answer. You turned around. A panicked feeling shot through. Legend was surprised with himself when he almost reached out to you when you walked away.

Instead, he watched you go. In the wake of his own emotions, he realized what had been happening. How he has been acting around you was starting to get familiar. “Not again.” He whispered disappointed in himself.

___________________________________

- Legend is going to be bitter about it. He isn’t going to take it out on you, but his mannerisms are going to be different after this.

- Not quite closed off, but it’s almost like he is mourning another loss.

- You would need to drown him in love and affection before he realizes you like him back. But like Twilight, he is going to be heartbroken if you decide to leave him to go back home.

___________________________________

Wild:

- Its progression was as natural as breathing.

- He just got off of his adventure so he always had you by his side. Just being near you is second nature.

- If anything, he was more than excited to actually have you physically be here alongside him.

- It rare to see ether of you not near each other when traveling together you two are inseparable.

___________________________________

The only upside of being in Wild’s Era is that the champion knew what to expect, it’s chaotic was normal for him and actually brought him a bit of peace. You came with that peace of mind. Having you join the chain to him was almost like you never left his side in the first place. From the moment he woke up after being told his name and what he needed to from Zelda, he was aware of your presence. You were the one to encourage him to explore the ruin kingdom. You were the one to recognize structures that the people in his world didn’t know about. The weird part was that you didn’t know how he was before the calamity, but he didn’t question that fact too much. He was more than happy to have someone treat him as a different person from before.

Now having you physically with him. Wild wanted to bring you to all of your favorite locations that you vocally told him about.

But that had to wait for now, because the downside to Wild’s Hyrule was the amount of things that wanted him dead. Moblins? Bokablins? Those guys are fine to fight they were push overs unless infected with the black blood. Actually, most of Wild’s monsters were like that. Once you get a hang of fighting them and recognize their patterns. They are a breeze.

A common threat that was annoy to deal with however, was the Yiga Clan. Which leads to the situation Wild and the others found themselves getting in while on the road to Hateno. He should of figured that they were going to strike when he got back to his Era. But he honestly didn’t think it would be in this quantity they were out number but thanks to Warriors taking control of the situation where managing. He was trying to make sure everyone was accounted for and was alive when he heard a string of curses coming from his right.

You had been knocked on the ground by a Blade Master. Your sword was near the clan member. Wild felt his world freeze in that moment as he bolted towards your body. With a falcon bow in hand. Wild side jumped. Locked in an ancient arrow and let it go.

The arrow sped towards the Blade Master. Hitting him directly. Turning the Yiga member into a bunch of Sheikah blue ribbons before collapsing into an orb where the arrow hit.

Wild slide towards your body. A pulse he needed to feel a pulse. Placing the tips of his index and middle finger on the base of your thumb and wrist. He pressed lightly to feel the blood pulsing beneath his fingers. A sigh of relief escaped him. Wild was lucky that the battle had come to an end. As the other Yiga members ether retreated in horror of what happened to one of their own or cut down quickly.

Hyrule join him soon after shooing him out of the way gently. Wild didn’t move from your side all that much. He didn’t want to. Just in case you left him too. He doesn’t know a life without you in it. A world like that just doesn’t exist.

Wild knows the name of the cause of his feelings. It’s the same thing that drives him to share his experience with you. He wants to be by your side and to make you happy.

___________________________________

- He is protective but not controlling. If anything, he wants to spar with you more. So, you can get better at fighting.

- You can bet he is going to start making you taste the different foods he had discovered, or sneak out to visit areas in his world more often. He doesn’t want you to miss a thing.

- There is so much he wants to do with you. So much he wants to share. So many things to say. That he just wants to do it all at once so there can be new things you both can discover together.

(Part 1)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #Lu Wild #Lu Sky #Lu Legend #Linked universe x reader #SKY AND LEG GAVE ME SO MUCH TROUBLE #London Fog Tea

[bitacrytic]

2 days ago

A prequel to "30 Minutes Later"

"Are you dating?" Yohan heard Elijah ask enthusiastically.

"Elijah!" Gaon's voice sounded fed up, even from a thousand miles away.

"That's not an answer," Elijah pushed, ignoring his frustration.

"It's none of your business."

"Are you dating?"

A loud sigh sounded from the monitor in the sitting room as Yohan walked in to find Elijah on a video call with Gaon. He was in his apartment, a bigger one than that shack he called a home before. He was wearing a cream-colored sweater that looked very familiar and his hair was damn. Probably from a shower.

"No, we're not dating."

"But she was lying in your bed."

"I don't know if it's any of your business, but she's... a "he" and we're just friends."

A "he"?

Yohan turned away from the screen, fetching himself a bottle of scotch from the shelf as he listened to the conversation behind him.

Gaon was dating.

Gaon was dating men.

It wasn't very surprising but still, Yohan had thought he'd take a second to mourn his loss. Damn it, Soohyun hadn't even been gone for more than a month and he was already dating. Wasn't she supposed to be Gaon's world?

"If you're not dating this one, are there others?"

"My god, Elijah!"

"I'm going to keep asking till you answer."

"Fine, we're not completely dating. It's casual. It's nothing serious."

"So sex but no strings."

Yohan turned around sharply to rebuke Elijah for being so crude but Gaon was already doing it.

"Hey, hey. It's cool to talk to me about anything but you should be polite."

Elijah frowned, sulking a little as she fiddled with her teddy bear.

"Look," Gaon said. "Look at me. I'm not mad at you. I just... it's funny talking about this stuff with you."

"Because I'm a girl or because I'm sixteen?"

"Both?"

She smiled and shook her head

"You said I could talk to you about anything."

"You can, but it doesn't mean that there aren't exceptions."

"Like your sex life?"

Gaon sighed again, frowning at her in that manner that looked like he wanted to scold her but he was too fond to actually follow through.

"How's the new therapist?"

"She's okay." She smiled. "But don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"Are you eating well?"

"I don't know. Maybe if you'd come with us, you'd know that for sure."

"Now, don't be like that. There's stuff to do here and you-"

"I have stuff to do here, too. I understand."

"Don't worry, maybe when things calm down here I'll take a trip."

"That could be years, Gaon."

"Good thing we have video calls so that you can pop in unannounced and scare my dates away."

"So you agree he was a date?"

"I'm going to end the call now, Elijah."

She laughed at him as he reached up to the screen and the call ended.

Yohan was about to leave when Elijah turned to face him.

"He's dating now," she said, as if Yohan hadn't heard the entire conversation. "What are you going to about that?"

"What?" Yohan asked, hiding behind his glass of scotch. "What do you want me to do about it?"

Instead of answering, Elijah just shook her head, turning from him in full disappointment as she wheeled herself out of the sitting room.

What did she want him to do about it? Gaon was a grown man who could do whatever he wanted. He was also his own person. A mere month out of Yohan's shadow and Kim Gaon was already a beacon of light in the country. What did he need from Yohan that Yohan had to do anything about?

He's dating now, Elijah had said.

Yeah, okay, maybe Yohan didn't want Gaon to date. Especially not just anyone who was looking for clout or some fevered experience of being with a celebrity. Loath as he was to even think it, the only person worthy of Gaon was someone who'd known him and loved him before all this. Someone who didn't care for the glitz and glamour. Someone like Soohyun.

And given that Soohyun wasn't here anymore, the next best thing was still a strong connection and really, how many other people were there in Gaon's life who really connected with him? If Yohan was honest, the only person who would be worthy of dating Gaon was Yoh...

Yohan dropped his glass on the lower shelf he was leaning on.

He's dating now. What are you going to do about it?

Yohan downed the last of his drink as his mind raced. There was really only one thing to do.

♧♧♧♧♧

Tagging fellow angst-chasers: @yoonkangsstuff @sunsoothed @eremin0109 @fanfictionroxs

Two days later, Yohan's flight touched down in Incheon International Airport.

_

#the devil judge #bitafics

[pink-flame]

Promises Kept - A WFW Missing Scene

Soooo...I let it slip earlier to @mamirugbee that in my original plot outline for We Found Wonderland the scene where Luke finally wins the ring was there. I ended up not writing it because I thought that would be too much angst on top of everything else and you all would riot. But she wanted it and I love her so I wrote it. But then I got distracted with other angst on the way to that angst...so you also get the immediate aftermath of Julie leaving. Oops. It's 2 for 1 night for WFW angst! Just remember I WAS ASKED FOR THIS. Love you, Jenni. 💜

Luke held it together pretty well for approximately three days.

After watching Julie disappear right in front of his eyes, while he smiled...smiled to show her he would be ok...he had sunk to the ground, very much not ok. He had stayed there, just outside the garage doors, dizzy and sick to his stomach while the reality of the situation washed over him until finally the change in light alerted him to the fact hours had passed. He realized somewhere vaguely in the back of his mind through the haze of mental static that the rest of the guys would be home from school soon. He didn’t want them to see him like this. He didn’t want to be the one who had to tell them what had happened, didn't want to see the hurt in their eyes or even worse the sympathy. His instincts were screaming at him to run away from the situation, to escape like he had escaped his parents’ house when their smothering attention and rules became too much. The urge to grab his acoustic and walk out and never come back was strong, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his side as he turned the idea over in his mind.

In the end it was never really an option.

He couldn’t leave his friends.

He couldn’t leave his band.

He couldn’t leave his parents, not again.

And most of all he couldn’t leave the life Julie had almost sacrificed everything to make sure he got to live.

He had promised her a lot of things. That they would make things work somehow. That he would win her that dumb ring. That he would help her reconnect with her dad. That it would always be him and her, Luke and Julie, in it together against nosy bandmates, and questionable record labels, and the looming possibility of being separated by thousands of miles (back when that had seemed like as far apart as they could get).

And he had promised her that he would take care of their friends, and follow his dreams and do his best to be happy.

It turned out that the one promise he had made her that every inch of him was screaming out in protest against might be the only one he could actually keep.

So he would.

Luke unclenched his palms and placed his hands flat against the pavement outside the garage doors. He took a deep if shaky breath then pressed them into the firm surface until he managed to haul himself to his feet, his legs protesting as he forced them to move through their stiffness. He just had time to drag himself into the bathroom and splash cold water on his face before he heard the telltale sounds of his friends approaching, their boisterous voices carrying from all the way down the driveway. He emerged back into the studio, purposefully turning away from the doors in a desperate bid to buy himself a few extra seconds to compose himself before he had to explain Julie’s absence.

“And then I said if a platypus is a mammal where’s their nipples cause that’s how mammals feed their kids, right?”

“Reggie, I don’t know what made you think we want to hear this conversation…”

“Oh come on, Bobby, where’s your intellectual curiosity. Go on, Reggie.”

“Right, so then Mr. Gleeson said they don’t have nipples. They feed their babies by basically sweating milk through milk gutters.”

“Ok...I take it back, Bobby was right. I now know way more than I ever wanted to.”

“Luke, will get it. Hey, Luke! Guess what I…”

Luke turned slowly to face his friends and watched their faces fall as they took in his tight expression. Apparently his efforts to school his face into a neutral mask had failed epically. Luke realized his hands were shaking and shoved the offending appendages into his pockets hoping that would hide the effects of his runaway emotions.

That also seemed to be wishful thinking.

“What’s wrong?” Bobby asked bluntly, taking half a step towards Luke before stopping short when he saw the way he flinched. “Oh.”

“Luke, I’m…” Alex swallowed hard and glanced away for a moment seemingly fighting with his own emotions. “I’m so sorry.”

Reggie was the last to speak, the panic stealing over his face like a punch directly to Luke’s chest.

“Where’s Julie?”

When Luke didn’t answer right away he asked again, shaking off Alex’s attempts to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Luke, where’s Julie?”

“Home,” He answered simply, his voice steady despite the emotions still raging inside of him.

He knew what he had to do now.

He had to honor Julie the only way he could, by helping his friends be ok.

“What? No,” Reggie protested, looking back and forth between his friends as though expecting someone to tell him it was a joke. “She wouldn’t. Not without saying goodbye.”

“She didn’t have a choice,” Luke told him gently. “The portal just appeared and she...she ran out of time.”

“Ok, ok,” Reggie ran his fingers through his hair roughly, leaving pieces standing up in all directions. “We can go to the ghost club, right? We can get Willie to help us get into Caleb’s dressing room and we can go find her.”

“That’s a good way to get killed by an evil ghost,” Bobby pointed out.

“We’ll figure it out,” Reggie insisted.

“Reg...we don’t even know...we don’t know if Caleb still trusts WIllie or not. We haven’t seen him since that night.”

Luke could hear the pain in his friend’s voice and he hated it. Alex might not have had the time to develop the same deep connection with Willie that Luke had with Julie, but he knew his friend had seen flashes of that potential in their stolen moments. The fact that Willie had been missing in action since he tried to help them save Julie weighed heavily on Alex. Luke could see it. He just couldn’t do anything about it except be there for him as much as he could.

He was going to need Alex too.

He was going to need all of them.

“Reggie, even if we could do that she didn’t want us to. She didn’t want us to leave our families or our dreams or our lives here. She fought so hard for us to have them. We have to live like it’s now or never, for her.”

He managed a small, sad smile hoping it would calm Reggie’s rising agitation but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

“Don’t quote your lyrics at me, dude,” Reggie snapped, once again brushing off Alex’s attempts to put a comforting hand on his arm. “You’re supposed to be in love with her. How can you just let her go without a fight?”

Luke felt like his throat was closing up as Reggie’s words hit him like a slap in the face. He knew his friend didn’t mean it, not really. He was just hurt and scared and mourning the loss of the little sister he loved.

It didn’t make it hurt any less to have his own doubts and guilt thrown back into his face though.

Before Luke could come up with anything else to say to comfort him, Reggie reached up to wipe at his eyes and spun on his heels, stomping out of the garage and down the driveway.

Alex shot Luke a worried look before nodding after their friend.

“I’ll check on him. I’ll be right back, ok?”

Then he was gone and Luke and Bobby were alone in the garage.

Bobby was looking at Luke like he was some kind of wounded animal and Luke wished he would stop because the longer his best friend looked at him like that the more tempting it was to totally break down. And he couldn’t do that and keep his promise to Julie. So he would hold it together. He would.

“I’m not going to ask if you’re ok because that would be a stupid question,” Bobby said, crossing the garage to sink onto the couch before patting the seat next to him expectantly.

Luke hesitated for a second or two before sighing and sinking down next to Bobby, the urge to tap his foot or drum on his knee overwhelming though he fought it down. He didn’t need to give Bobby more ammunition about his mental state. Not that he needed it.

“Look, I’m going to miss her too,” Bobby cleared his throat before reaching out to pat semi-awkwardly at Luke’s knee. “And I know it’s going to be worse for you. But I’m here for you. We all are. So just...don’t run, ok?”

Luke could have laughed at that if his mouth had seemed to remember how. His friends really did know him too well. Still. He had already ruled out that course of action.

“I won’t,” He promised.

And he didn’t.

What he did do was dive headfirst into trying to make sure their lives would go on like Julie wanted. He was there waiting when Reggie processed his feelings enough to feel bad about his outburst and showed up at the garage in the middle of the night and pulled Luke into a tight hug that lasted a long time. He was there when Alex wanted to talk about feeling anxious not knowing for sure if Julie had made it back to her time and what she had found there. He was even there when Bobby admitted that he missed Julie but he missed Queenie too and he wasn’t sure that the band was ever going to be as close as they once were. Luke did his best to reassure them all, checked in on his mom, and started calling around trying to book them a gig even though they had hardly any songs they could use and none of the bookers he spoke to seemed particularly interested.

He forced himself to tell bad jokes, and offered to go get pizza and suggest busking so they could refill their food fund.

He did all of that for three days until it was like the adrenaline he had been running off of ever since Julie disappeared into a hole in the ground finally wore off. On the fourth day he knew his friends noticed that he was quieter than normal though none of them said anything, just exchanged mildly worried looks. On the fifth day he lost his appetite, picking at the leftover pizza that Bobby had warmed up for him and refusing the variety of junk food his friend then hauled out to the garage. On the sixth day he slept most of the day, drifting in and out of fitful dreams. He had only emerged for a couple of bathroom breaks and was back curled under the blanket he usually left unused when his friends showed up after school, their worried looks no longer mild.

The 7th day was a Friday but they didn’t go to school. Instead they staged what amounted to an intervention, hovering around the couch (he didn’t bother folding it out now that the possibility of Julie crawling in next to him was gone) and refused to stop staring creepily at him until he sat up with an annoyed huff.

“Don’t you have school?” He muttered, pulling the blanket more firmly around his shoulders despite the smothering heat.

“We’re not going,” Reggie said, reaching out and yanking the blanket away from Luke in on quick movement.

“Hey!” Luke protested.

“We’re worried about you,” Alex said ignoring the way Luke was suddenly looking anywhere but at his friends. “You pretended nothing was wrong and then you crashed hard.”

“You’re depressed,” Bobby said bluntly, because of course he did.

He was annoyingly accurate and to the point at all times unless he was hiding his meaning in some obscure literary quote of course.

“I’m not,” Luke tried, feeling strangely exposed without the weight of the blanket. “I miss Julie...a lot, ok? But she wanted us to live and I’m living.”

“There’s living and there’s living,” Reggie countered, dropping down next to Luke to sling an arm around his shoulder. “And Julie would want you to be living, you know what I mean?”

“We don’t expect you to be ok,” Alex broke in quickly. “Just for you to be honest about what’s going on with you. You’ve been there for us the past few days now it’s your turn.”

“I’m fine,” Luke tried one last time, though his argument sounded half-hearted even to his own ears.

“You haven’t showered in a week,” Bobby pointed out, the softness behind his eyes easing the harshness of his words as Luke forced himself to look up and meet his friend’s eyes. “Come on, rinse the smell off and then we’re taking a field trip.”

Luke groaned but forced himself to stand and cross the distance to the bathroom, his bones aching like he had spent years in bed, not hours. He hardly remembered the shower but when he reemerged some indeterminate amount of time later his hair was dripping and he admittedly smelled a lot better. He still felt a bit like he was walking through a heavy fog though, like some slight, almost undetectable force was making each one of his steps just that little bit more difficult. He thought it might not be the weight of something slowing him down at all but the absence of something. It was like he had forgotten how to do everything right without Julie next to him. Walking and eating and breathing. He knew he had done them all before he ever knew her but that didn’t make them come any more naturally now that she was gone.

Still.

He had promised her he would try.

So he let his friends steer him out of the garage, let them lead him down the sidewalk, Alex and Bobby buffeting him on either side and Reggie walking in front, chattering away and peering back every few seconds as though afraid Luke would bolt if he didn’t keep him in his sight. Luke for his part just shuffled along, grunting out a response when asked a direct question and keeping silent the rest of the time. Apparently the plan was to head to Reggie’s house. His mom would be at work and she had bought him this brand new video game console called a Playstation that the boys were all dying to try out. That newly separated parent guilt was apparently good for a few things, like letting Reggie have ice cream every night and expensive gifts. Luke was pretty sure that none of them were particularly in the mood to play video games and were putting on the enthusiasm for his sake. He appreciated it. He just couldn’t match it.

But once they were actually in Reggie’s room, crowded around the little television he got for his last birthday, Luke had to admit he did feel a little more like a human being. He even caught himself laughing as he watched Alex and Reggie squabble over the second controller as Bobby clutched his above the fray. Reggie grinned when he saw Luke’s brief smile and shoved the controller they had been fighting over into his hands.

“Here, you try!”

And he couldn’t stand to see Reggie disappointed, not when he had seen him so hurt so recently. So Luke did try. And he let himself enjoy it. And he let himself tune out and pretend that there wasn’t someone missing.

He did such a good job at pretending that it wasn’t until they had left Reggie’s house several hours later in order to keep his mom from knowing they had skipped and headed for the ice cream shop that the gaping absence all came crashing back.

Because right around the corner from the ice cream shop was the arcade.

And right inside of the arcade entrance was a claw machine.

And inside of that claw machine he could only assume there was a purple plastic ring that would now never sit on his girl’s finger.

He couldn’t explain why his feet carried him towards the arcade but they did, seemingly without any specific direction from him.

“Luke....” Alex’s worried voice called after him but he didn’t pause until he was standing directly in front of the damn game that had been haunting him for months.

And there it was. The ring. Mocking him from the exact spot it had been in all along.

Apparently his friends had caught up to him by then because when Reggie spoke up it was from directly behind him.

“You’ve got to let that thing go, man,” His friend said carefully. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Luke found himself understanding Reggie’s initial reaction to the news about Julie’s departure because all of the sudden he was angry. He wasn’t just angry, he was furious.

He brought his fists down in tandem on either side of the joystick, feeling the reverberation up his recently healed arm and had just enough time to wonder if that was the smartest idea before words were bursting out of him unbidden.

“It matters,” He said fiercely, ignoring the way Reggie flinched slightly. “It matters. She matters. She matters to me and she’s gone and I said I would give her that ring and I didn’t and now I can’t and...and...it just matters, ok? It just does.”

Alex and Reggie both stared at him, eyes wide with worry seemingly unable to land on something helpful to say as they watched him finally implode. The silence stretched and Luke was just about to kick the machine just to have something to fill the gap and give him another chance to externalize the storm brewing inside of him when Bobby stepped forward calmly.

“Here,” He said, his voice calm and even. “Go ahead.”

He held out his hand and Luke instinctively stuck his out to catch whatever Bobby was trying to hand him. He folded his fingers over the mystery object to keep it from falling to the ground, before uncurling them carefully to examine it.

It was a quarter.

Luke looked up sharply expecting to see sympathy or something worse on Bobby’s face but all he saw was that look his best friend gave him when they were disagreeing on a song or when they couldn’t agree on what toppings to order for their pizza. Or maybe more like when Luke had wanted to use those fireworks for pyrotechnics or when he had suggested a book club as a viable gig. Like he didn’t approve of what Luke was doing but also like he was going to be right there behind him, letting him know he was an idiot and then helping him anyway.

Somehow it was exactly what Luke needed.

So he didn’t say anything else, just swung to face the machine and deposited his quarter in the slot before he could think better of it.

The game came to life as he swung the joystick jerkily to the right, not letting himself think too hard about the exact aim as the claw hovered over the ring in it’s plastic container. He slammed his hand down on the button to drop it probably harder than was strictly necessary but it felt good to have an excuse to hit something. The claw dropped and clutched it’s mechanical arms around the plastic container. Luke tried not to react, afterall he had gotten this far many times before, but the weak arms always released the ring long before it could actually make it to the prize shoot. But even as that hopeless thought crossed his mind the claw was rising, taking the ring with it and this time it didn’t drop back to its former spot. This time the ring remained locked in the claw’s embrace until it tumbled down into the prize shoot leaving all four boys to stare at the machine in surprise.

“Did that just…” Alex started.

“You did it,” Reggie practically whispered, disbelief clear in his voice.

Luke for his part just stared at the claw machine that had once again gone silent and still as he tried to process what had just happened. He had been so angry a minute ago and he could never win the ring and it didn’t matter because Julie was gone...Julie was gone...but it did matter and now he had won the ring and...did he really just win the ring?

Once again it was Bobby who broke them all out of their stupor, stepping forward and reaching through the metal flap to retrieve the ring, pressing the plastic container insistently into Luke’s shaking hands.

“You did it,” He said simply but firmly.

“I did it,” Luke echoed, his voice slightly choked.

“You said you would and you did,” Bobby continued. “It’s ok, Luke. You did it.”

Luke was very aware that Bobby was talking to him like a small child and he wanted to be offended, he really did, only he felt like a small child. Like nothing made sense and all of his emotions were too big for him. He had tried for so long and so hard to win that stupid ring, had seen it as a metaphor for how he felt about Julie, how he would do anything for her, how he wanted her to know that as intrinsically as she knew her own name. He had tried so hard and it had never worked and now she was gone and the very first time he tried, the first time, and he had done it.

Luke felt tears pricking at his eyes and did his best to fight them down.

“Luke…” Reggie started, his own eyes looking suspiciously wet.

Luke couldn’t bear to hear what Reggie was going to say or to make eye contact with any of his friends when he felt on the brink of breaking into sobs. He spun to face the machine again only that didn’t seem to help. His vision went blurry and his throat went tight and the next thing he knew he was breaking down into sobs. He tried to stifle them in a fit of embarrassment but there wasn’t much point. The tsunami had started and all he could do was ride the wave and pray he was in one piece on the other side.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the claw machine, the soothing temperature doing little to slow the tears rolling down his face or the hiccuping, painful sounds that were emerging from his mouth. The ache in his chest was almost unbearable but it was matched by the sharp pain in his hand as he clutched so hard at the ring’s plastic container he was sure it would leave an angry red outline when he finally uncurled his fingers.

He loved her.

He loved her so much.

He loved her and he was never going to see her again and he won her the ring and she was never going to know it.

He was so alone.

Only he wasn’t.

Because suddenly there were warm arms wrapping around him from every direction, cheeks pressed against his shoulders and the top of his head, soft words of comfort being spoken in three different voices.

“It’s ok, Luke.”

“Let it out.”

“We’re here.”

And he did.

He had promised Julie they would do their best to be happy. He intended to keep that promise. But today all he felt was pain. And that would have to be ok too.

And it was.

And they were.

Not all at once.

Not for a long time if he was being honest.

But slowly and steadily genuine smiles, and laughter began to work their way back into their lives. They didn’t talk much about Julie at first. It hurt too much. But eventually Reggie brought up a story about her over pizza and soon they were all chiming in, recounting their favorite moments with the girl who would always live in their hearts even if she could no longer live in their world. After that they brought her up often and it hurts but it also heals.

Luke took to wearing the ring around even though it was too small for all of his fingers except his pinkie and often got stuck even then. Bobby didn't comment on the way his finger was starting to turn as purple as the ring itself, simply handed him a black cord one day for him to string it on and brushed off Luke’s rush of thankful words. After that Luke wore the ring on a cord around his neck, dangling down to thump gently against his heart as he walked, the cool plastic a constant reminder of what he lost but what he gained too.

He wasn’t living the life he would have chosen for himself but he was living the life Julie had chosen for him. He hoped the two would come together eventually. He had to have faith that they would.

Eventually he sat down to write a song for her and ended up with a poem instead.

Eventually he had the idea of sending her a message through time, a box filled with all of the things she had loved and left behind, all the ones that would fit in a small box anyway. Eventually he pried the teddy bear version of himself out of Reggie’s reluctant fingers to go inside. Eventually placed all of their carefully selected polaroids inside too.

And eventually he slid  a purple ring off of the cord he wore it on, placed it carefully back into its original container and left it for her to find with a lingering kiss pressed to its surface.

Eventually.

But first.

He lived.

Tag list: @futurearchaeologyprof @moreflowersthanweeds @chickwiththepurpleguitar

#we found wonderland #missing scenes #juke #jatp #luke patterson #sunset curve #angst #all the angst #my fics

[vacant--body]

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of unaliving self, PTSD, Bucky have flash backs, vomiting, loss of pregnancy, ED if you squint, lots and lots and lots of angst. sad, saaaad, Bucky :(

female!reader x steve and bucky love triangle (not as much here)

Side note: HI! I'M SO SORRY! I LOVE YOU ALL:) *also if the text is in italics it means there's a flashback*

part 1

✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿

It had been almost a month since Bucky had last seen Y/N. Tony and Steve thought it was best for Y/N to be admitted to the psychiatric ward at the near by hospital. But you have been gone a month. And you didn't put Bucky down on the approved list of people that could come visit you. The only thing he had left of you was the last conversation you guys had, and it was slowly driving him insane.

"Bucky? Where are they taking me? I don't wanna go." You were still loopy from the anesthesia Banner had used during your surgery. The way you were talking to him made it seem like you had just forgotten everything that had happened over the last 3 months.

"Shh, it's okay." Bucky said softly. Talking still hurt his throat. "But you gotta. You gotta get better, okay?" You nodded and sniffled. "Don't cry doll. It's all gonna be okay." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, like he always did when you were upset.

"What happened to your face?" You muttered, your fingers grazing across the cut on his cheek bone. Bucky flinched at your touch, not wanting to remember how it felt.

"Don't worry, doll. Just get some rest. I'll see you soon." Bucky stood up from beside the cot and nodded at the paramedics who were standing close by to take you to the hospital.

"Bucky?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah, doll?" He could feel the hot tears in his eyes getting ready to spill over.

"I love you."

"Bucky," Sam tapped his shoulder. "Are you listening?"

"Sorry." He mumbled. "Just thinking." He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, wringing his hands together.

"I asked how you were doing?" Sam repeated.

"I'm fine."

"Don't do that Buck." He scoffed, slumping into his chair. "You gotta talk about this shit, man. And I know you normally talk to Steve but-"

"Sam, don't."

"Bucky-"

"I don't need your fucking pity.” Bucky growled, getting to his feet. Sam stared into his eyes with exactly what Bucky was upset about; pity.

"I am trying, damnit." Sam seethed through his teeth. "I am trying to hold you together and I am trying to hold Steve together. I hate being the middle man but if you two want to act like you're in high school and give each other the silent treatment, then I'll do it. I don't like seeing my friends hurting." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "You are very clearing showing signs of PTSD, and if you just let me help you, I can try to make it better."

"Everyone hates me, Sam." Bucky changed the subject.

"No, they don't. They're worried about you." Sam tossed his arms up in the air, exasperated. "You and Steve lost so much in one night, they're scared for you. They are mourning with you, Bucky. Please understand that."

Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I gotta go, this was pointless."

"Bucky-" He didn't hear what else Sam had to say before he shut the door to his office behind him and stormed down the hallway. He scoffed and shook his head. Fucking therapy. Tony had forced him to go or else he was sending him some place like Y/N was. He didn't need it anybody’s help, he was fine.

Bucky had wondered around the compound for hours after been you’d taken away, unsure of where he was going. This place felt so empty without Y/N here. He felt so empty. He found himself standing outside Steve's room after walking for hours. The sun was starting to rise now. His arm jerked as if he wanted to knock on the door, but he couldn't do it.

Then why did he knock?

Steve opened the door and was standing in front of him, eyes red from crying. His hair a mess. He definitely didn't look like the calm and collected Captain America.

"What the fuck do you want?" He spat, glaring down at his best friend.

"I-" Bucky was at a loss for words. "I don't know."

Steve laughed bitterly. "Get the fuck out of my face before I knock your teeth out."

"Steve, please-" Bucky's voice broke. "I need-I need you. Please."

"You need me?" Steve hissed. "What about what I need, huh? Does how I feel just not matter to you?”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, staring down at his feet. He couldn’t look Steve in the eyes any longer.

“You were fucking her.” Steve laughed, almost as it was a joke. “You were fucking my girl. You got my girl pregnant, and she tried to kill herself. Because of you, Bucky. So get out of my face. I don’t care what you have to say.”

"You're the only one-" Bucky tried desperately. He needed to talk. And Steve was the only one who understood.

"Save it, I don't wanna hear it. You ever show up at my door again," He took a deep breath, his eyes falling on the bruising cut that was on his cheek. "I won't stop this time." Steve slammed the door in Bucky's face.

Bucky was standing in front of Y/N's room. The door had long opened and an empty room was staring back. After you had left, Pepper and Nat had cleaned your room up the best that they could. While cleaning they had found an ultrasound picture hidden away in your nightstand. Nat said she wanted to throw it out but Pepper stole it from her and brought it to Bucky one evening. Bucky didn't know what to do with it so he brought it back to your room, stashing it away where you had kept it. He didn't want to take anything out of your room for when you came back. He wanted it to look like how you had left it. Well- before you destroyed it anyway.

Bucky slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, the springs groaning at the sudden weight on it. No one had sat here in a long time. Bucky heaved a sigh and hung his head, his long hair made a curtain around his face. You were always telling him to cut it.

A frown crept onto his lips, silently cursing himself. You teasing him about his hair is was started this whole thing. It was 4 months ago, you guys had most of the compound to yourself and were passing the time playing a drinking game.

He still remembers the smile on your face when you had brought up his hair, thinking it was hilarious how it was so long. Your laugh was more intoxicating than the alcohol the two of you were consuming. He just couldn't stop staring at you, your beautiful eyes, your hair that smelled like lavender, your gorgeous smile. And every time you leaned over it would expose your cleavage from the top of the thin tank top you had on. By the time you were done giggling Bucky had leaned in and grabbed your face, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You were stunned at first but quickly gave into his advances, as you had been waiting for this moment too.

A noise outside the room made Bucky snap back to reality.

"Thought I would find you here." A soft voice whispered. It was Nat. She gave him a soft smile before sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. "It okay if I sit?" Bucky shrugged his shoulders and nodded. "Sam said you're having a bad day."

"Sam doesn't know shit."

"I know some days are tougher than others. You seemed to be doing okay last week. Actually saw you smile." She laughed quietly. Bucky didn't say anything. "She's not dead, Bucky."

"Why the fuck-"

"Shut up and listen." Any hint of kindness in her voice was gone. "I'm not like Sam, I'm not gonna coddle you. She is alive and is doing better, I just came from the hospital."

"We'll I'm glad you got to see her." He scoffed.

"I know you're not gonna hear what I have to say, but just listen to this- you are not alone, Bucky. Okay? I know none of that matters because you don't have the people you love most around you. But the rest of us are you for you, and Steve. Okay?" Bucky opened his mouth to snap something back but Nat held up her hand. "Just tell me you understand, okay? Because if I have to clean up one more persons blood off the floor I am going to loose my mind."

Bucky sighed and nodded his head. "Okay. I understand." Nat patted him on the shoulder before standing up and left the room. A tear dribbled down his cheek and he quickly whipped it away. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone?

Absolutely exhausted, he kicked his shoes off and laid down, not wanting to pick himself up and walk back to his room. Everything just felt too heavy. His eyes slowly fluttered shut, no matter how hard Bucky fought against it. But it was just too heavy.

"Hey, I need to talk to you." Banner said quietly, standing in Bucky's door way.

"What?" Bucky grumbled from his spot on the bed. "If it's about checking my head, I don't want to hear it. I'm fine, he didn’t hit me that hard.”

"No, it's not that. I need to know-"

"Then what?"

"I need to know what you want to do with the fetus...the baby." He shifted his weight back and forth.

A heavy silence surrounded the two of them. "Why me?" Bucky croaked out finally.

"Well, you're the father and-"

"Don't. Don't call me that." Bucky pointed a stern finger at him Bruce stood there awkwardly, waiting for Bucky to tell him what to do. He blinked back a few tears and cleared his throat. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well, everyone else thinks you should bury him."

Him. It was a boy. Bucky was going to have a son. His son. Y/N's son. Our son.

"Then bury him."

"I think you should go."

"I don't want to."

"Bucky, please. You need to cope."

"Oh yeah, and how should I do that, doctor?" Bucky snapped back. Bruce sighed, defeated. "Go fucking burry the thing and get over it. I don't want to be there, got it?" Why was he saying this? That's not what he wanted to say.

"Okay. Sorry for bothering you." Banner exited his room in a defeated sigh, his shoulder hunched over.

Some more time ticked by before there was another knock on the door. Bucky jumped slightly as he just starting to fall asleep. He hadn't slept in about two days and it was starting to take a toll on him. The evening sun cast shadows that danced around in his dark room.

"Bruce I swear-" He opened the door and stepped back, surprised. It was Pepper. She smiled shyly at him. Bucky thinks she hasn't said more than 10 words with him since he came to live at the compound a year ago. Mostly just awkward good mornings when they came into the kitchen at the same time to get coffee. Pepper always got up early but Bucky was fed up of trying to fall asleep.

"Oh. Did...did you need something?" He asked looking down at her. Pepper wasn't as hard as everyone else at the compound, she hasn’t seen the things everyone else had. He had barely spoken to her and there were already tears forming in her eyes.

"Nat-" She cleared her throat and attempted to wipe the tears away from her eyes. "Nat and I were cleaning up Y/N's room, so it won't be a mess when she comes back. And we'll we found this." She held out some grainy pictures. Bucky wasn't sure what he was looking at.

"What are these?" He muttered, taking them from her.

"They're ultrasound pictures. I guess she knew..." She cleared her throat again, fighting back the urge to cry. "Sorry. I guess she knew about the pregnancy. Nat wanted to throw them out but I thought you should have them."

Bucky didn't know what to say. He didn't want to open his mouth and rip Peppers head off, because he knew that she was just trying to be nice. Trying to make him feel better, but honestly it was just making him feel worse. If you knew you were pregnant why did you try to kill yourself? Or is that why you tried to kill yourself?

Before he could think of what to say, a sob ripped through his chest, his knees giving out under him. Pepper moved quickly to his side and threw her small body against Bucky's, wrapping him up in a hug. She tried to hold him up the best she could, but they crumpled to the ground together.

"I'm so sorry, Bucky." She cried. Her hands grabbed the back of his shirt, like she was trying to keep him from falling apart. It wasn’t working. It felt like someone was chiseling away at his heart. He clutched the ultrasound pictures to his chest, another sob wracking through his body. He wanted Y/N. He wanted you here with him, mourning the loss of your child together. "I'm so sorry." Pepper repeated. Bucky gently pushed her away and tried to calm himself down.

"Thank you for these, Pepper." He babbled. "But I need to be alone. Please leave me alone." She shook her head at what he was saying and tried to protest. He held up his hand to stop her. “Go. Just go.” He pleaded. Finally, she left him there, sitting in the door way, holding the only pictures of his son that he would ever get.

Bucky woke up with a gasp, his clothes were soaked and sticking to his skin from his sweat and it felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest, his stomach churning in knots. He scrambled out your bed and into the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. These fucking dreams would not leave him alone. Ever since you left that's all he was able to dream about.

He spilled his guts out a few more times before slumped down beside the toilet, he shoved his head in hands and took a few deep breathes, trying to ease his spinning head. He gagged at the taste of vomit in his mouth and spit into the toilet again. Standing up shakily, he looked at himself in the mirror that was above the sink. He hated the person looking back. He looked sick, disgusting.

Saying Bucky looked rough was an understatement. His eyes were sunken in, which were accompanied by dark bags. His hair was ratty and dull and he hadn't trimmed his beard in weeks. He had also lost weight and muscle mass from not being able to eat. He couldn't. The only thing he was able to keep down was chicken broth and he hardly even eat that. He had no desire to work out either. His metal arm, which he usually polished at least once a week was dull too. And covered in scratches from him clawing at it in the middle of the night.

Bucky sighed heavily and rinsed his mouth and face with water. Patting his face dry with a towel he realized for the first time, he was starving. He could smell someone cooking bacon down in the kitchen and it made his mouth water.

Maybe Sam was right, Bucky did need to talk about this. Or maybe Steve was the one who was right. This was all his fault. He made the first move on you. The baby was his. Everything was his fault. Maybe if he had just left you alone, none of this would have happened. He couldn’t think straight anymore, nothing made sense without you here.

He pushed his thoughts out of his head as he remade your bed. Picking up his boots from off the ground, he slowly made his way back to his room. It was a hot mess inside, more than normal. Bucky doesn't remember the last time he picked anything up. He discarded his sticky clothes and got into the shower, letting the hot water fall over his skin. He hummed contently as he washed his hair, yanking to get the knots out. While he was in there he trimmed his beard the best he could without looking in a mirror.

Getting out and rubbed the steam off the mirror and looked at himself again. His beard and his hair looked better, but his eyes still looked empty. He still felt empty. Bucky tossed on some clothes that smelled the cleanest, which happened just an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

Taking a deep breath he left his room, or his cave, as Sam called it, and went down to the kitchen. It seemed like everyone was there, talking and laughing together. Bucky felt an instant nauseous feeling build in his stomach as eyes fell on him. He felt like an outsider, no, he was an outsider. Always has been as always will be

"Hey, Buck." Sam greeted, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts. "There's coffee in the pot if you want some." Bucky gave him a small smile and poured himself a cup, and grabbed a few pieces of bacon and fruit that was cut up. He sat down beside Sam and cleared this throat. Sam looked down at the small amount of food that Bucky had gathered and frowned slightly, but refrained from saying anything. He should be glad he was eating at all.

"Where's Steve at this morning?" Bucky asked, taking a sip of coffee, which stung going down his throat.

"Oh, he went to visit Y/N." Sam replied nonchalantly.

"Hm." Bucky stared down at his food, which suddenly repulsed him. Maybe this was a mistake, he should have stay in his room. Sam silently cursed himself for bring you up and tried to change the conversation.

"Sleep any better last night?" Sam questioned.

"A little. Fell asleep about an hour after we got done talking." He shrugged. “Woke up a little bit ago.”

"So you slept for 14 hours?" Sam chuckled. "We got done talking at 5, so you were out for 14 hours. I'd call that pretty good sleep."

"Doesn't mean it was restful."

"It's still a good thing that you slept through the night." Sam took a bite out of his bacon. "Oh my god, I swear Vision makes the best food." He goaded. Sam was obviously trying to get Bucky to eat.

"I know." Bucky faked a smile as he couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to get sick again. The feeling suddenly got overwhelming and he suddenly stood to his feet, his chair scrapping loudly against the floor, which caused everyone to stop and look. They watched as Bucky disappeared down the hall to the bathroom.

There was nothing in Bucky's stomach for him to throw up, besides that little bit of coffee. He was now just dry heaving, spit trickling down his chin. He just wanted this to go away, why couldn't it go away? Bucky heaved into the toilet one last time before picking his head up, wiping away the spit that was now traveling down his neck. He noticed there was a slight red tinge to it.

He brought his knees up to his chest and his hands shook as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. The room was spinning, he was so dizzy. His mouth felt he had just chewed on chalk. He was a super solider, god damn it. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. Something wasn’t right.

He slowly got to his feet, hanging onto the sink for support. Slowly he made his way back to the kitchen, leaning against the wall so he wouldn’t fall over. He just needed to get to Banner. Banner would know what to do.

Back in the kitchen, Bucky could hardly see. His vision was darkening and his ears were ringing. He could feel eyes on him. Gripping the wall for support, he dry heaved again. “Bucky?” Someone asked, concern in their voice. That voice. He knew that voice.

“Y/N?” He panted, his head snapping up. The quick action made his head spin and his grip on the wall loosened. He caught a glimpse of you right before he fell on his face, vision going black, everything falling silent.

part 3

#bucky drabble #bucky oneshot #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #please don't hate me #marvel imagine #mcu #i'm so sorry lmao #bucky deserves love #bucky deserves better #bucky fanfic #steve rogers #mcu imagine #james barns #captian america #marvel fandom #marvel fanfiction

[snellyfish]

May I ask..... what is in your post game V3? I dunno how to ask this without sounding weird.

HM!!!!!!!!! GOOD QUESTION;;

I mostly only have braincells for Kiyo and Angie so not a lot of my thoughts are straying from that unfortunately LMAO, I was able to branch off a bit answering this though so thank you for indirectly helping me develop more!!

But I like to think it's the same scenario as the second game where it was all just a simulation. I know what I fantasize about is a VR AU and that "postgame" tends to refer to the survivors but literally none of my favorites survived so reality can be whatever I want: postgame Shinnaga is so canon it's unreal!! I'm sure there's probably a VR fic for them somewhere out there in the world, I wouldn't know because I suck at reading fhdjfk, but I would love to write my own someday HEH

-------------------------

They'd all wake up one by one as they die and end up all in the same facility where they're taken care of by the Danganronpa team, unable to leave until they’re well again due to the contracts they signed prior to playing-- Meaning Angie wakes up, Tenko wakes up a few hours later, Kiyo another few hours later, etc. Angie jumps back pretty quick from things so she'd be already VERY excited to see Kiyo*  after watching the trial, mostly because Angie like immediately caught onto what his sister really was to him (HINT: CONTROLLING AND AWFUL) and yelling at her screen saying "GOD WILL SMITE YOU ALL FOR PICKING ON THE WEAK" at everyone just calling him some incestuous freak during the trial. Angie does have genuinely incredible intuition (thanks god!) so she looks past the fact he murdered her Scarily Fast. Everyone would definitely mistrust and hate Angie even more as she tries to preach to them afterwards about Kiyo and how they need to forgive him since he’s a victim and God (most important opinion) already forgave him, but no one ever listened to her anyway especially postgame so it’s all in vain 😔

*whom might take a bit to wake up and fully acclimate again because...idk this man was boiled alive that's kinda Fucked I think all the executed would take longer to wake up because they went through more lengthy + traumatic deaths I guess? This just means even more time for Angie to sit on her thoughts about what happened to her+Kiyo yuh yuh

Everyone becomes a mix of their pregame selves and the identities they were given, they'd end up being mediocre/average (sometimes bad) at what their handpicked talent was but a lot of them still keep up doing it until they DO become good again. A very small amount of them try to replicate their killing game outfits and kinda live off the high of being what they once were and accomplished in their fake memories, like Miu and Himiko. (this also makes me think about Irumeno a bit more 👀) Pretty much every single one of them in pregame saw themselves as nothing, being disposable enough to be in a killing game (even if it turns out to be virtual), so the new identities would overpower the mix for the most part since they’re the more intensified and dramaticized personality--IF THAT MAKES ANY SENSE LOL.

--Angie absolutely never stopped her art and has a less intense view on Religion, since garnering more experiences in life she’s just be less intense in general I'd think; more open with her emotions in that she'd actually cry, but still very manic and bubbly and optimistic nonetheless. After getting help (mostly from Kiyo who deals with the same thing), Angie is able to differentiate her thoughts and desires from “God”’s thoughts and desires, YEA she still has a funky little friend in her head. She's not AS pushy especially not with her equally traumatized fellow killing game participants but she still absolutely gets her moments of intensity and assertiveness now and then if she thinks something God is telling her is absolute truth and for the betterment of everyone: she is still Angie afterall, truly believing everyone would be much happier with her God in their lives but having enough self-restraint to know everyone will just push her away further if she tries to help them in that regard. She has her moments of desperation but most everyone’s too far gone from her already.

--Korekiyo is such a complicated one--I do like to think of pregame Kiyo as transfem/nonbinary and that would partially stick into his postgame identity in some way...killing game Kiyo was Just A Dude but after becoming the mix of the two identities he'd be VERY confused, especially with the influence of his (simulated) sister's influence. (genderfluid time? :)) He'd have varying degrees of when his...sister...alter...thing...comes out, or is present in his head in any regard, she'd be gone or slowly disappearing from his mind for months at a time and he'd initially be extremely unstable about it because he feels extremely isolated and lost when he can’t talk to her, but he's got Angie by his side so he becomes significantly less stressed about it over time, learning to cope with it. Eventually he finds himself no longer dependent on sister and...has to learn a SECOND time to not be unhealthily dependent; on Angie this time. (funky little idea I’ve been wanting to draw/write about sometime...hnnrngm) They’re both miracle workers when it comes to each other’s mental health it’s kinda insane. Of course, after realizing that Sister never really existed, he harbors near-immediate guilt for having murdered Angie and Tenko once he’s alone with his thoughts, not being puppeteered by sister, realizing everything he ever did he did for HER and realizing how fucked it all was pretty quickly--he does crave interacting with his victims in a positive and healing light but he’s sort of traumatized by it all to the point he is TERRIFIED when they’re around him at first.

--Tenko ends up EVEN MORE protective and grudgeful after she wakes up, trying to shield everyone and everything from most of the blackened, absolutely makes Kiyo manage to feel like even worse shit when he's got 1 extremely supportive and loving woman he killed and 1 extremely spiteful woman he killed who might legitimately murder him in return if he’s not careful. Tenko never makes amends with Angie and becomes close with Himiko (who's close with Gonta despite Tenko's wishes (she hates him for killing Miu, local woman)), managing to keep Himiko far far away from Angie, not only for "stealing" Himiko in the Student Council but also for the fact Angie's glued to Kiyo's side--making her the second least trustworthy person to Tenko..

--Himiko is very traumatized after the game due to surviving all the way til the end, likely making her (along with Shuichi+Maki) very disillusioned and lost--unable to decipher anything from fiction or reality--it takes a long time for Himiko to really “accept” anything; tried to cling to both Tenko and Angie but ends up just stuck on Tenko, mourning the loss of her friendship with Angie while doing so. Himiko would probably be shoved away from Gonta at first as well, but Tenko felt a lot more confident in Gonta so after a long while of her aggressively trying to teach him manners and keeping an emotional deathgrip on him whenever he wants to interact with Himiko, they’d end up close friends again. Still thinking about Irumeno-- Also with the whole ~~Survivor Delusions~~ thing, I think that helps play into Himiko’s attachment and insistence to keep up her old magician identity, because she has a very hard time trying to tell what’s real n fake ykno, and it takes her a while to realize she doesn’t have her talent anymore; absolutely ending in tearful breakdowns and unending determination to find herself again by forcibly trying to improve and push herself to her limits.

For the most part Kiyo and Angie are outcasted from everyone else, a lot of that being due to Tenko's preaching but...also everyone just doesn't understand what actually happened to Kiyo and they are all deathly worried about Angie, but not enough to get themselves involved; they're scared of Angie too, afterall, not as much as they're scared of Kiyo but ykno-- They think her naivety and determination to “fix him” is going to get her murdered again, every day they’re just counting down the minutes until it happens again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t)

I could ABSOLUTELY go off more but I really have to end this at some point so fhdsjkfds--

TLDR;; Angie (and God alter) forgive Kiyo almost immediately. Sister alter likes to disappear sometimes making Kiyo sad and unfortunately dependent on Angie. Both Kiyo + Angie help each other heal and recover from their issues. Tenko hates both Kiyo + Angie with a passion and protectively forbids Himiko from seeing either of them. Himiko is close friends with Tenko and Gonta and Maybe More with Miu.

#not art #ask #anon #korekiyo shinguji #miu iruma #gonta gokuhara #himiko yumeno #angie yonaga #shinnaga #irumeno #MAYBE... #my problem with it is so stupid its like #i really like kiibouruma maybe i just throw himiko in there too...... AUGH #4+ poly ships always wrack my brain but i might go with it haha RUNS #kiibourumameno #LMAO #postgame #vr au #postgame au #au

[ohheyitsokay]

classic

pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: none, tropes on tropes on tropes, weird descriptions of things

summary: good, old fashioned fan fiction chaos

notes: there’s no getting around it - everything I write with Jack is inevitably influenced and inspired by @scribbledghost s version of him, particularly her neighbor!whiskey. I tried not to, but I still feel I should give credit!

>>

It was the kind of razor your grandfather would have used – more of a knife than anything, because of course it was.

Of course this would be edge that your housemate used to slide along his jaw and chin and cheeks to make that perfect mustache before work in the mornings. He was the type to love old fashioned, traditional, dangerous things - it made sense. After all, that was why you were staying in the guestroom of his ranch home while your apartment was being renovated. Old fashioned courtesy between friends, of course.

Dangerous.

Jack had caught you watching him, impressed in spite of yourself as the sharp blade scraped over his neck, neatly slicing the hairs on his throat, and pushing your heart into yours. It was unnecessarily intense, dramatic, the touch of risk for the sake of vanity. It made you swallow, awed that he wasn’t covered in little cuts, and almost aroused at how casually he used something so akin to a weapon. And that alone made him smirk, cocky, as though he had been waiting for you to notice, hoping to impress you.

A few days later he’d coaxed you to him, settled in a chair with his legs spread wide with confidence as he handed you the tool, smug with confidence – almost a challenge. He had gotten wrecked at work – he actually had, and it was the perfect excuse to draw you close, make you bend to his will. Schoolyard tactics, really, but all of this was, and it was worth it to have your eyes on him alone, face a breath away from his.

It was about trust more than anything. Not that you would ever hurt him, but the power of being over him was heightened by the intimacy as you lathered the cream over his skin.

His deep eyes bore into you, not flickering to the blade as you tried to focus on your task. If he had asked you a different time, another day, you maybe could have refused, but somehow his wanting your steady hand felt heavy with implication.

Ignoring the quickening steps of your heart, your fingers grasped his chin, shaving away the stubble he’d let grow just for this. Each slice of smooth skin revealed left a thick line of froth and hairs on the blade, and you got to breathe as your turned away to wipe it off. You could feel his gaze, still, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. Hovering over him while he was seated, touching his jaw, leaning close, and meeting those brown eyes would have been too much.

Your denial was as a solid as a wall with half sunk into the ground with cement – almost rooted in your fear of rejection.

It was a challenge to ignore the shots of adrenaline that filled you when he’d reach around you to grab something in the fridge, his chest against your back, hand on your hip. Already you had shoved down the butterflies in your stomach when he’d offered you a place to stay, carried your boxes, and called you sweetheart. You had spent far to long ignoring the way he hadn’t brought a single girl home since you’d been there to fold now and admit anything. Because if you did, there was a chance you would lose your friend forever, and that was out of the question.

You kept your eyes down to keep your hands steady.

For his part, Jack’s plan was only half working. He liked your attention, liked the way your breath hitched as you wiped him clean. But you were closer than you had ever been, patting in the aftershave and you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t open the door for him to push the tools and towels aside and kiss you. All he wanted was to grab hold of you and pull you into his lap and make you melt against him but there wasn’t a moment.

You’d been friends for a long time, been there for each other countless times and he had yearned for you almost as long. At first, he tried to deny it too, grabbing at random women and hating himself when he imagined they were you as he pulled them into his room.

Then he’d given that up, stopped pretending anyone could replace you, that anyone else occupied his dreams, anyone else could be as good a fit for him, and went after you full speed. It had honestly been innocent to invite you to stay, instinct instilled in him from his childhood. Still, he had begun to see the opportunities for the two of you to enjoy intimate domesticity right away, when he’d cooked you dinner and you’d talked at his table for hours, finally not worried about having to drive home. He ached for that – not ever really having to leave you, and he spent more nights than he’d like to admit thinking of knocking on your door.

Only… you were still in your denial phase. Not sleeping around just pretending it was normal to sink into his arms after a bad day, to let your friend play with your hair until you fell asleep, to watch his lips as you gently helped him shave.

It was too vulnerable, to high of a risk to go after you with the chance that you weren't ready. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away.

-

“What, really?” you said, genuinely surprised. When you’d accepted to stay, he’d promised you there would be no problems, but now you felt guilty.

His mama was coming to town, and would more than likely be staying with him.

“I’ll find somewhere else!”

Jack was already shaking his head at you, like you were missing the joke, but he looked… almost nervous? You couldn’t tell, it wasn’t something you saw on his face often.

“Actually, sweetheart, I was hoping you could do me a favor,” he was asking, but it’s not like you could actually say no you him, when he shot that winning smile your way. It was like not petting a puppy – and you were the opposite of allergic to cowboy secret agents.

“You know Mama Daniels,” he said and you smiled, having spent many a summer helping her in her garden, and being thanked with dinners heavy with butter and love. “She’ll like you here, she’ll be over the damn moon.” And you conceded. It would be more than nice, to spend time with such a wonderful woman, an Jack had invested in a very comfortable couch. For a week you enjoyed a hopeful bliss, that she would help remind you Jack was just your friend.

The sun was shining through the windows, the winding almost singing a quiet, breathy song, and everything was as spotless as you could manage. Well worn quilts were clean, and you had set up a little station for yourself in the living room determined to make it your home for the week.

Then she came with a jacket that matched her slacks and shoes with little buckles and a paisley suitcase full of presents for her son, who she insisted wasn’t really grown. She hugged you and scolded you for being at work instead of coming to pick her up, and finally settled at the kitchen table, her intentions clear. You were to sit and catch up - Jack was already pulling the sweet tea you’d made from the fridge and a reused sewing tin filled with butter cookies appeared out of her purse.

Meekly, you sat, knowing if you didn’t eat the cookies in quantity, she would pout her whole visit. You could feel Jack settle at your side as she talked, warm and solid, a comfort, despite the heat of the day.

The cookies disintegrated on your tongue, melting with a burst of sweet before the bite was gone. They were full of love and maternal affection and things that you hated to spend money on and made all bad thoughts disappear. You were thankful your mouth was full of one when she mentioned, offhandedly, how plum delighted she was when she found out the two of you were finally dating. Abruptly, you remembered just how wrong your previous hope was.

The sweet lady had been hinting for you to marry her son since before he’d mastered his first lasso, and apparently, she was sure that moment was well on its way.

“And living together, no less!” she was beaming with pride, tradition apparently irrelevant as she chatted happily about it.

Turning to the man by your side, you found him choking, trying to breathe through the cookie he’d accidentally inhaled. There was a white ring around his irises as he stared at you, panicking and aptly confused. Sure your face matched his, you jerked your head at his mother, a silent argument ensuing.

Did you do this?

No!

What do we do?

We can’t break her heart!

It went unnoticed. You felt helpless, drinking your tea and trying not to have a small meltdown in front of a very misinformed lady who had brought you cookies.

He was your friend! And sure, you liked the weight of his arm around your shoulders or could get lost in the drawl of his voice but that was normal! It was normal to be so comfortable with him as the beginning, end, and highlight to each of your days.

Sounding weak even to yourself, a crack, solid and formidable, formed in the wall you created to protect yourself and the friendship you had built.

“Ma’am, I’ll be back in a moment,” you whispered, grabbing your phone as you grasped at air, hoping beyond logic that you could pretend it was an important call.

You didn’t exactly run away, but you walked very quickly outside, mourning the loss of your little guestroom, and the privacy it offered.

Jack would never, ever smack his mama but he did want to say some choice words. Nothing could have prepared him for the last two minutes of his life, first the embarrassment of the misunderstanding and then… the fear in your eyes.

He hated it, hated it so much more than he ever thought he could, hated that it was probably his fault it was there. And he hated that it shrouded the longing he had begun to see there, these past few weeks. Long strides carried him after you, hearing his own voice distantly saying words, explaining maybe, as he left the table.

There was a tree, trunk too wide to wrap your arms around, thicket of leaves creating bean-shaped shadow on the ground, by one corner of his home.

You were behind it, almost like a child, letting the bark press lines into your forehead. The dappled lighting did wonders for you – you looked the perfect picture of a storybook wanderer in distress.

Jack slowed, overwhelmed with the desire to encompass you in his arms, slay your dragons, and whisk you away. Now was not the time.

He kept his voice soft, reaching for you in place of his hands, trying hopelessly to find the root of your panic.

You were just as quiet, telling him it was fine, you would pretend, as long as you’d talk tonight, after she went to sleep. His heart was creating dramatic movie scenes where you would float into his room, declaring your love for him, before settling in his arms, but he shook them away, agreeing.

Smile over-bright, you touched his smooth cheek a moment too long, before pushing past him back towards the house.

He allowed the afterglow of his daydream to wash over him only a moment before he jogged go catch up with you.

-

The quilt on Jack’s bed had chickens on it, of all things. It was one of those that had clearly been homemade, years and years ago, taken care of, but worn at the edges with memories and use. One pillow had a dent for his head, the other was squashed into an unrecognizable shape

You didn’t know that it wasn’t like that, before. That his arms had only started searching for something to hold onto since you had been around.

All of his room was new to you – it made you feel strange, realizing that for weeks you’d been in his home but not this part of his space.

The afternoon his mother came, he’d been called into the field. You had never quite seen the look on his face as he reasoning fell on deaf ears – desperation and frustration like ants ruining honey on a picnic. The flannel across his back bunched as his shoulders had filled with tension before he stripped it off to change into his work clothes. Jack kissed his mothers cheek and spewed instructions for the both of you, some apologies spilling out and others kept just behind his eyes as he grasped your hand.

His final command was for your ears alone -  that you take his room, and you’d been too panicked to refuse. The last three days, the smell of him and the memorabilia  scattered around the space kept you company when his mother went to sleep and you slept in his bed for the first time, alone.

It was surprising how sentimental he was. His hooks had another cowboy hat on them, a little wider, brown, and considerably more worn. There was a stack of printed photos in a little box by his bed – it was open, and some of the photos had oil-worn fingerprints along the edges. You found ones of you, and your heart flipped inside your chest.

You should have realized it was impossible to deny yourself, your feelings, with him surrounding you like this. Each thing you learned, each reminder of him practically reached off of the walls, as if he were there, coaxing your heart into his hands. It felt silly, almost, that you even tried to ignore it - you had missed him the moment his hand left yours. Now you had all the time to process, surrounded by his neatly folded shirts and the line of his favorite boots.

The idealized illusion of your relationship had only lasted half a day of living with his mother. Her warm brown eyes were too much like her son’s – you couldn’t lie to them. It was good though, for her to hold your hand a listen to you talk as the birds gossiped outside the window and steam seeped out of the pie you helped her bake. Miraculously, she wasn’t disappointed with you, commending your honestly, and explaining that if she was patient until now, then she could certainly continue to do so.

The more you talked to her, the more you suspected that she was right, all along. She helped you dig up the walls, her kind determination the shovel you needed for those concrete roots.

You would work and talk and tuck yourself into his chicken-clad blanket at night and finally, finally let yourself think of him, allow yourself to be in love with him.  You didn’t know he had started actually living in his room again, when he’d started letting himself love you. That he thought of your smile when he’d found his old quilt. Still, the more you thought, the more you could admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too.

That was how Jack found you - absorbed in your thoughts - the whiskey in his hand as forgotten as the mission and the agent he’d played for the past seventy eight hours and twenty one minutes.

He watched through the half open door, words failing him as you sat up, startled and the way your eyes searched for injuries made him want to eat you alive. 

There was nothing that could’ve prepared him for the sight of you in his bed, even though he had told you to be there and three days to daydream about it. It was intensely intoxicating, having someone care for you so intimately. 

With his sheets sliding down around your waist, you looked as good as the pie on the counter, as if a single snapshot could encompass everything he wanted home to be.

You were wearing a shirt he’d given you, years ago, and he swallowed, hard.

“Are you up for that talk?” his voice was rough. It would have been nice, to relish in the feeling of you checking him over, attention on him as he unwound, but he couldn’t wait. This moment was three days overdue.

“I told your mom we aren’t dating,” you blurted and he smiled, having guessed as much. Smoothing the blanket, your hand patted the spot next to you, your legs crossing.

In that, Jack knew something had changed since he left you. The flickering fear had fled your eyes, and you seemed settled into your skin more than ever before.

He sat next to you, having played over how this talk would go a million times, and still not finding the right words. Confidence was easier to find when he was flirting, poking at you, but seemed foreign in the din lights of his bedroom. Instead he shifted trying to lean back with his arm along the headboard, hoping he didn’t seem like a teenager trying to buy himself time.

You began to talk, saving him, and all the things you’d processed with his mama tumbled out of you before you were realizing that you were confessing how much he truly meant you. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been strange how comfortable you felt, but in the moment, you were in awe.

Jack was as handsome as always, if a little roughed up, like he’d worn the same clothes a few days in a row. You wanted to run your fingers over the short, patchy beard he had going, and without a second thought, you did, feeling his cheeks move as he smiled crookedly and leaned into the touch.

There was only a moment of quiet, crickets outside, before he said, “I missed you, too.” And then, “Will you stay, sweetheart?”

When you whispered, “Where else would I go?” he kissed you.

It was late, and there were still words unsaid, questions to be answered, but you both let yourselves get lost, exploring each other. Long moments passed, letting all the pent up yearning overflow like cool water after a long, hot day. Then the next steps came out, whispered between kisses and as he moved over you, shucking the final walls between you, you found yourselves actually dating, and maybe even actually living together. 

Old fairy tales and historic romances played in the back of your mind, inserting their logic into your life like had never quite made sense before.

And you wondered if you had time in the morning, and his mama didn’t give you too much grief, if he would let you help him shave, and eat pie for breakfast. Because for the life of you, you couldn’t think of a single reason why not.

<<

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @0celestialbitch0 @beautyagegoodnesssize

#this got away from me #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #kingsman #maybe i don't know people

[bitterepiphany]

the bodyguard situation

archive of our own

@zuzusexytiems enjoy ;))

ooh also partly inspired by @amy-r-k's aa first kiss hc <3<3

warning: contains spoilers for 139

If somebody had told her during her days in the Southern Training Corps that Armin Arlert would become the 15th Commander of the Survey Corps, Annie would have scoffed in their face. There would be no way in hell that a boy that soft and weak, a boy that struggled to even complete the Training Corps program, would become the leader of by far the most dangerous branch of military here on this island.

But times had changed. Times had changed so drastically, so mind-bendingly, that Annie almost longed for those days, those simple days when the only troubles worrying her mind was the location of the Founder, and the guilt over all the destruction they had wrought on the people within the walls. Funny, how something so enormous could become so simple in hindsight.

Something hadn’t changed, though, in Annie’s world. It surprised her sometimes, how much she had come to rely on that soft and weak boy from training, how just the sound of his voice could ground her, reminding her of all the years she spent in that crystal with only his and Hitch’s words to keep her sane.

Things had happened slowly, softly. There was so much aftermath to deal with, so much death, destruction, and fear to manage, that for at least the first year after Eren’s death, they barely had time for one another. Fragile, temporary stalemates disguised as peace were made between surviving humanity and those of Paradis, and work began to salvage and rebuild what was flattened.

Armin had been forced to take up his role as the new Commander, and for a period of time, stood at a similar rank to Historia as the only surviving military leader after the rest had been turned into titans and subsequently killed. While Historia stayed on Paradis, Armin and their surviving group - Annie, Reiner, Connie, Jean, and Pieck - who were dubbed, ‘The Heroes of Paradis’, stayed in Marley, negotiating with their surviving leaders and helping the cleanup and rebuild effort. Levi remained in Marley to recover from his injuries with their more advanced technology, and Mikasa chose not to go with them, opting to instead retire from military work to instead mourn her loss in peace.

But after things had settled (or as settled as they could be after eighty percent of the world was crushed), the unresolved tension between them couldn’t be ignored through their various distractions anymore. From lingering looks, hands brushing each other for a little longer than it to be accidental, and making constant, see-through excuses - if the looks Pieck and Jean gave were any indication - to spend time with each other, it became almost unbearable for Annie. She began to think about his confession on the boat on a daily basis, thinking it over. What if he didn’t feel that way anymore? What if he realised that she was a monster, and that she didn’t deserve someone as good as he was? What if - and this thought made Annie feel physically sick - he found another girl, and she was everything Annie couldn’t be?

It was only after Pieck had cornered her after she was caught staring openly at him for the umpteenth time that she sucked it up and decided she would confront these feelings. That was, until an incident on Paradis where a group of rogue Jeagerists decided that the current Commander of the Survey Corps needed to be replaced.

Now, it was known to those that knew him through training and the subsequent years that Armin didn’t excel physically. Though he had improved and filled out into himself in the years since he inherited the Colossal Titan, he would never reach the prowess of his other male comrades like Reiner, Jean, Connie, or Eren.

Though this information was never made ‘public’, it must have gotten out somewhere, and during an orientation for some new Scouts that Armin was overseeing, a group of young men broke away from the group and rushed him. Luckily, Armin was quick to react and defended himself until they almost overwhelmed him, but at that point, Jean and Connie reacted and dragged the attackers off him. Annie herself wasn’t with the group when it happened, instead away with Reiner discussing Marley things with Historia, but when she was notified of it, she was furious. Needless to say, the decision to give Armin a constant guard was non-negotiable, and it became clear to everyone else who wasn’t budging on being the one for the job.

Armin tried to protest the decision, saying he didn’t need a ‘babysitter’, but one look from Annie shut him up pretty quickly. He did confide to her later that he was grateful she was doing it, instead of some upstart young Scout, or even one of the boys in their group, claiming that they could become a bit suffocating in their insistence that he couldn’t defend himself at all.

The words left unsaid between them seemed to take a backseat as they now spent basically all their time together. Armin let his guard down around her, and she had to admit to herself that she couldn’t imagine her life without him at this point. There were some realisations within herself that she was scared to look at though. Once, Armin questioned whether she wanted to leave the group to go live with her father, since that seemed to always be her goal ever since she left for Paradis Island all those years ago.

Annie had spent time with her father early on in the months following the Rumbling, but had found herself drawn to working with Armin and the others, though was reluctant to leave her father initially. He assured her it was okay though, and encouraged her to get out and do something she enjoyed with her life. She still visited him regularly in Marley when she could.

They never openly acknowledged it, but the intimacy between Armin and Annie slowly began to increase. Armin had a couch in his study, and sometimes they would sit there together, Armin reading some book too boring for her to be interested in, and Annie would just relax. One afternoon, the sun was falling just right over her body, and she allowed herself to close her eyes. The next thing she knew, she had awoken to her cheek pressed into the fabric of Armin’s shoulder, one of his arms resting loosely around her shoulders. He was still reading in the fading dusk light, and when she shifted, he looked at her, a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he whispered, smirking slightly. “Poor form of you, sleeping on the job, huh?”

He was teasing her. Annie pushed herself upright, fighting a yawn, failing to do so, all while shooting him an icy glare.

Armin just laughed.

Fuck.

Annie couldn’t maintain her icy demeanour at that. That damned laugh of his always broke all of her walls. She just huffed and turned her head, heat creeping up her neck. Armin’s laugh faded, and Annie glanced over at him. She was surprised to see him glancing at her sheepishly too.

“You know,” he mumbled, blushing, a hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “Uh, I don’t mind if you, you know, do that…”

Annie’s breath caught. Armin blushed harder, eyes averting.

“Uhm,” he continued, still resolutely not looking at her, “Hitch used to always say that you looked scary when you slept? But… you… don’t really, I think you look kinda cute actually and- oh?”

Annie had scooted closer to him during his ramblings, and, without a word, rested her head back onto his shoulder.

“You talk too much,” she grumbled, curling up beside him.

Armin huffed out a laugh, his arm returning to its spot around her shoulders.

They stayed like that until Annie fell asleep again, and the both of them had to be shaken awake by an amused looking Pieck, who smirked at Annie mischievously when the latter discovered Armin had wrapped her up in his arms, his cheek pressed up against her hair.

***

Some invisible barrier had broken between the two of them since that afternoon. Annie found herself sleeping on Armin in various different places whenever they sat together for extended periods of time, and he became more touchy, often grabbing onto her hands to lead her places and show her things, and being quite cuddly when she fell asleep on him, leading Annie to wake up pressed tightly against him, trapped by his arm.

They found themselves in a unique situation, and neither Annie nor Armin were oblivious to the rumours and giggles that followed the two of them around at Scout Headquarters. Their close friends wisely chose not to mention their growing intimacy, but that didn’t save them from the badly disguised stares and whispered speculation that erupted from Junior Scouts as the pair did their daily business around the grounds.

It didn’t help that Armin and Annie did absolutely everything together after the attack. The two didn’t say anything to each other, the only indication Annie got that Armin noticed it at all was his telltale habit of rubbing the back on his neck and hair when he got flustered or nervous when the whispers got a little too loud for comfort.

Things reached a peak one night after a long meeting negotiating new regiment leaders and discussing the rebel Jeagerists that seemed to be grouping up together again.

It was raining hard after a sudden downpour, and Armin and Annie were faced with the newly treacherous task of making their way across the grounds to their adjacent rooms in the Commander’s and Captain’s dorms.

They stood under an awning, peering through the darkness, trying to route a path that would result in the least amount of drenching. It didn’t seem possible.

“Well,” Annie said, “I suppose we can just have a shower after…”

“I guess… let’s go!”

Annie cried out in surprise as Armin grabbed her hand and yanked her along with him, and then they were off, running through the sheets of water and getting thoroughly soaked to the bone. Annie let herself go, and began to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, and soon Armin joined her, their laughs getting lost in the roar of the rain.

Just as they reached their barracks, Annie’s foot landed in a particularly slippery patch of mud and she toppled over, gasping. She squeaked in shock as a pair of arms wrapped around her and saved her from a faceful of mud. Armin pulled her into him, and her palms flew up to grip his shirt at his chest. They stood there for a second, staring at each other, far closer than they had ever been before, chests heaving with exertion.

Armin’s arms tightened around her slightly.

“Are… are you okay?” he breathed.

Annie could feel his heart racing beneath her hands, and she suddenly became acutely aware of how fast her heart was going too. She nodded, breathless.

Armin didn’t seem to want to let her go. Annie found that she didn’t want him to either.

All of their interactions since his damned confession on the boat ran through her head. Annie took a breath. She had made up her mind. Enough of this dancing around one another. Just as the words building up in her head for months passed her lips, Armin spoke.

“Annie,” he said, eyes intensely focused on hers. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her chest caught.

“I…”

Feeling as though her entire life had led up to this moment, Annie abandoned any response she might have had on her tongue, gripped his shirt harder, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

She could feel the tension leave Armin’s shoulders, and he almost slumped into her, leaning down so she could stand flat-footed, kissing her back, hands sliding up her body to cradle her face. They broke apart, lost in their own little world, eyes locked.

“Wanna get married?”

Annie let loose an elated giggle, sure that this high she was on was never going to let her down. It was all too incredible to even describe.

“Yeah.”

***

Rumours about the Commander and his female companion had been the hot topic of Scout members for months. A set of questions regarding them circulated.

“Who’s that scary-looking lady who’s always with the Commander?”

“Is she some kind of new captain?”

“I heard she was his bodyguard!”

“No surely not, she’s too small for that, maybe she’s his assistant.”

Another smaller, more knowledgeable section of older Scouts found the pairing to be unbearable.

“She’s the Female Titan!”

“Why haven’t we killed her yet? You know how many Scouts she killed, right?”

“Why on earth does he seem to be friendly with her?”

“They look like some sort of couple! No way am I serving under someone fucking a traitor!”

The Commander and his female companion were very aware of the whispers, but they didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted, they thought.

One afternoon, an amused-looking Reiner was lounging about, supervising some of the younger recruits in their training. He heard some of their whispers, and laughed aloud.

“You guys don’t know?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, “She’s no bodyguard. That’s his wife .”

Rumour has it the squeals of shock could be heard from across the grounds.

#aruani #armin arlert #annie leonhardt #attack on titan #chapter 139 spoilers

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Death Threats

Summary: What if the people threatening Barba went after you, too?  

Warnings: Angst. Injury. Fluff. (I realized the timing puts this in the episode Heartfelt Passages, so that was a busy day for poor Rafi.)

Dedicated to @teamsladsandgents​ for inspiring me to get stabby.

2,256 words

You thought he punched you, the man in the elevator. It wasn’t until the doors chimed open and he was striding quickly but casually from the building that you realized you were bleeding.

The inch-wide slit in your shirt took a moment to start bleeding in earnest as you stood in shock, time frozen along with your body. Then thick, dark amounts of it began streaming through your fingers.

The elevator doors were sliding shut before you thought to stumble out with your last ounce of strength—to scream for help—before your body sank to the ground, leaving you alone in your metal coffin. You tried to sit up again, but it hurt and made more blood come out.

You couldn’t reach the elevator buttons.

You were so tired.

The funny thing was, you weren’t afraid. Just disappointed. You always thought you’d turn into an action hero if you were attacked—that adrenaline would awaken some ferocious, hitherto unseen warrior within, like Jason Bourne.

But it all happened so fast.

It was over before you noticed a blade in his hand. Over before you processed that he had said something to you, just before that dull punch in your gut.

“That ADA you’re fucking sticks his nose in the wrong people’s business.”

It was strange that you weren’t thinking about your mom or your best friend of ten years. As you pressed as hard as you could to stem the bleeding, you didn’t see your whole life flash before your eyes. The only thing on your mind was your boyfriend of the last several months, the sarcastic lawyer who kept so many walls up, and the petty argument you got into earlier about his canceling lunch plans again.

None of it seemed real. Didn’t seem like the way the story of your life ought to end—bleeding out in an elevator.

It was getting hard to concentrate on what to do next.

OK. The buttons wouldn’t work. Too far to reach.

No one can hear you scream.

Phone.

Your phone was in your pocket, but you had to take one of your hands off of clamping your gut to reach it. Blood streamed through your fingers—so much blood from such a small hole. Your hand was too slick with it and shaking to grab hold of the phone. If you could get it, you could call 911.

“Work, you fucking hand,” you thought. You thought that was an undignified last thought. It should be something profound. Poetic.

But no. Your last thought was going to be swearing at a Samsung.

Tired.

You never remembered if you managed to get the phone from your pocket or not. It didn’t matter anymore.

The last thing you remembered thinking about was Rafael finding out you were gone, his eyes red from mourning. Blaming himself. You wished you could tell him… If you died, you wouldn’t be there to cup his cheek, to make him smile again. To tell him what you whispered to the dark elevator, alone.

“It’s not your fault, Rafi.”

***

The man’s name was Felipe Heredio, a lieutenant of the BX9 street gang. There was already a warrant out for his arrest when he stabbed you. ADA Rafael Barba identified him in a lineup as the man who was stalking him only an hour after a neighbor found you lying in a pool of blood. The fact that he was already in police custody might have been relieving to you if you were conscious. You might have felt proud that it was Barba who ensured he was arrested.

And your heart might have broken when Barba’s phone rang, and his entire world stopped.

***

Rafael’s eyes were red from crying when you woke up with oxygen tubes in your nose, and your hand cradled in his. Your throat hurt more than anything else, oddly, which you would later learn was from being intubated for surgery.

The first word you croaked upon regaining consciousness was, “Sorry.”

A collection of empty coffee cups was scattered around the feet of his chair so he could stand vigil for however long you had been out. His eyes were not only red and wet, but bulging with that jittery, over-tired, caffeine anxiety.

You knew how busy Rafael was. That it was a weekday (technically, it was already tomorrow), and he’d have court in the morning. What you didn’t know, because he didn’t want to weigh you down with his world, was that Barba had already mourned one death today, and that one more loss might break him.

You were sorry for causing him so much trouble.

Rafael was having none of it, of course. He tried to keep his voice from shaking when he told you, “Why in god’s name would you be sorry?” followed by barking, “Stop that—don’t try to sit up. Nurse!”

His bedside manner was well and truly atrocious.

The next hour was a dizzying blur of nurses checking your vitals and helping you use the bathroom, then answering a uniformed officer whose questions you could barely understand through the morphine haze.

When it became clear what had happened and why, Rafael became unusually quiet. All of his follow-up questions and complaints of, “is this really necessary? Can’t you do this later?” fell away. He slumped in the visitor’s chair beside your bed, his hand still holding yours, but in pensive silence until the officer finished, leaving you alone except for the security detail at the door.

Then the apologies came. The heavy confessions that he’d been receiving threats for a year, and this was all, all his fault. Admittedly, if it weren’t for the morphine drip dulling everything, you might have been pissed off that he knew this might happen and kept it to himself. He kept so much to himself, you had to read about his cases online to know what was going on in his life. But his face—which you always thought babyish, with his smooth cheeks and lips ever-ready to flash a sarcastic smirk—was drawn, making him look old and haggard. He was too serious, too raw to possibly blame him.

“I’m so sorry for putting you in danger. I never should have gotten you involved in this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is,” he choked. “I’ve been getting threats since I indicted those cops, and I haven’t exactly been on… anyone’s good side. I should never have started dating you.”

Like a slap in the face, that sting made it through the morphine. You jerked your hand out of his.

“That came out wrong. It’s true, though. I was selfish to think I could…” He gave a melancholy sigh as he sank back in the chair. “It will be safer if we keep our distance from now on. This will never happen to you again.”

You never imagined you could get stabbed and have your heart broken on the same day, or that the latter would hurt worse.

“Then what are you even doing here?!”

“I had to know you were OK. But as long as I’m getting death threats—”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying you’d rather give up being with me than give up a legal battle with powerful enemies?”

His eyes widened and he stared like a deer in the headlights, only where the deer was an insensitive workaholic, and the headlights were the blinding rays of truth. It wasn’t even a surprise that he hadn’t thought of it that way—this was every fight he’d had with an ex just before they broke up with him.

“I, uh—”

You grabbed his face and dragged him down into the softest kiss, which was not what he was expecting. He almost yelped (though it melted into a whine) when his fiery hot, coffee-flavored lips hit your cool ones. When he pulled back, lips wet and parted, his brow furrowed in confusion over still-widened eyes.

“You are… the sweetest.” Your hand lingered on his cheek as you gave a doped-up-on-painkillers smile. “The most selfless, noble… bravest… amazing man I have ever met. I love you so much.”

“I… what?”

“Rafael”—your thumb lazily stroked his cheek—“I know how much you care about me. Even though you’re married to your job and it’s frustrating as hell sometimes, I’ve never been insecure that you don’t love me enough. I know you never tell me about your cases because you want me to be able to sleep at night. You worry about me too much. And you always look so nervous whenever I leave, like you think I’m never coming back this time.

“So the fact that you would sacrifice your own happiness before you’d let an injustice go unanswered… that’s incredible. You do nothing but give a voice to the voiceless all day, working yourself to the bone without considering the cost to your personal life. You’re like a superhero, ADA Barba.”

A short breath of a laugh escaped his lips as his hand came up to the side of his face to cover yours. His eyes were watery, and he looked like he was about to break down again as he bitterly whispered, “A superhero who almost got you killed.”

“I’m not leaving you, you know.”

“Cariño. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t—couldn’t…”

“Nothing’s going to happen. It’ll be OK. I’m not leaving you alone.”

A tear wavered precariously close to the rim of his eyelid until he turned away, rubbing his face. It was gone when he turned back. “You could have died because of my fucking work! I’ve never given you the time you deserve. How do you still want to be around me?”

“Hey, someone has to be there to protect you when you get yourself in trouble,” you grinned.

Rafael Barba couldn’t take any more. He bent over the hospital bed and wrapped his arms around you, doing his best not to snag any of the many tubes coming out of you or put any weight on anything below your diaphragm, but hugging you to him as tightly as he could. You felt his trembling breathing in your hair, and hot wet spots pooling on your neck.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Your free arm closed over his back, stroking his broad, tense muscles through his shirt. “I’m really glad I didn’t die,” you whispered, finally allowing yourself to feel scared now that he was here. “I didn’t want to die yet. Not like that.”

“I’m sorry.” He breathed in, and his arms tightened protectively. “You have no idea how terrified I was. I’m so sorry…”

“Shh,” you whispered. You clung to him, soothed by his familiar cedar and citrus scent, fainter now after a long, harrowing day, mixed with the masculine smell of sweat.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too. I can’t lose you. I can’t. I love you more than anything.”

Soon—too soon, because you wanted to continue talking—you drifted to sleep in his arms. And once again too soon, you woke up with your entire abdomen on fire, and nurses bringing you pain medication. Rafael was still there, half asleep next to you in the narrow bed.

He didn’t leave you.

Even if it put you in danger, he would rather be beside you, making sure you were OK than cutting you out of his life and hoping the bad guys got the memo. He couldn’t put you through that pain, even if he could do it to himself. Especially when you pondered aloud to him whether you’d survived because you were thinking about him—that you refused to die before seeing him again, knowing what a wreck he would be.

Recovery was long, and interspersed with doing nothing but fall asleep when you’d rather stay awake, and not being able to sleep at all. Rafael (and his security detail) moved into your apartment when you were released from the hospital so he could take care of you—as grumpy and bossy and sarcastic as his bedside manner might be.

You swore you were going to sign up for Krav Maga or Cobra Kai or something once you could exercise again, since apparently you were not a secret knife-fighting ninja deep down. Next time, you wanted to be a badass who could fight back, and never let anyone harm your overzealous ADA when he kicked the hornet’s nest.

Eventually, you would convince him that it wasn’t his fault that bad guys had acted like bad guys. And he would convince you that taking care of you wasn’t a burden—that the emergency time off from work was worth it. He started replacing “sorry” with “I love you.”

In the end, while you wouldn’t say being stabbed was a good thing, or that you’d choose to be stabbed again if you had the option, it did ensure Heredio was put away for a long, long time. It left you with a cool scar, and a new catchphrase for expressing your displeasure—“I’d rather be stabbed again than do the dishes!”

Fine, it also left you jumpy and made your chest tight whenever you found yourself alone in an elevator.

But most importantly, it brought down the walls Rafael had been keeping up around himself. He talked to you more. You talked to each other more. And he remembered to—on occasion—take time out of his heroic, selfless life of battling injustice, and selfishly spend it with you.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @delia26 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @storiesofsvu​

#Rafael Barba #Rafael Barba x Reader #my writing

[nctwd127]

What Could Have Been?

Part Four. (Smut)

Several weeks later.

After what happened with Ten, you decided you didn’t want to mourn the loss of someone close to your heart anymore. You just wanted to move on and put all of that behind you.

So you decided it was the perfect time to indulge in your feelings for Johnny.

Ever since the breakup, you spent a lot of time talking to each other. Whether it was over text or phone calls, it was a constant thing. From morning to night.

At work, you worked with him the most because you did everything you could to do so. And even though he would never admit it, he did too.

The people around you were starting to notice the little things that kind of hinted that there was something more going on between the two of you.

They noticed the loud giggles, the handsy moments, the longing stares from across the room. The twinkle in your eyes and the playful smirks. Some have even accidently passed by when you were having flirty interactions.

But everyone had doubts because they all knew Johnny and what he was like. It would have been out of his character to get involved with someone at work, especially so publicly.

While everyone was in doubt, Johnny and you were having a great time together.

The first time you had him over again, he was really just there as a friend. Nothing more happened besides a light make out session for a couple of minutes.

You spent most of the time talking and getting to know each other more. He really opened up to you about his past and the history he had with girls.

Johnny felt like he could really trust you, he had no reason to think otherwise. And because of that, he really opened up to you. He told you his struggles in life, the ones he had before he even got where he was now.

He also told you the struggles he was going through at the moment and how hard everything has been on him. The pressure of being present for the fans and everyone around him was really draining him.

He almost felt like he had no escape right now. But you, you made everything just a bit better. You listened with no judgement, with no expectations of Johnny from Nct.

Because to you, he wasn’t Johnny from a famous boy band. He was just Johnny, a sweet kind hearted guy from Chicago who you wanted to get to know more of.

Slowly but surely you were getting there.

The third time Johnny came around, things were different. The energy and the vibes weren’t the same. There was something tense in the air, you could feel it radiating off your bodies.

You drank and watched a movie like always, at least you started too. But the feelings were too strong to ignore.

Before you knew it, you were straddling Johnny shirtless on the couch yet again, much like the first time. Hands were touching everything and anything they could reach, squeezing what they could. His shirt came off not too long after yours.

His face was buried in your chest, sucking on your boobs as hard as he could. His tongue played with your nipples as he pushed you more into his mouth.

Your nails were digging into his shoulder blades scared you were going to break skin but the pleasure was too much. You grinded yourself down on him harder feeling everything he had to offer.

“Johnny.” You moaned, throwing your head back, letting the passion consume you.

With his mouth still on your breast, sucking away and licking with need, his hands slide down your back into your underwear, groping your thick skin.

He pushed you down harder on his crotch, wanting to feel more of you, so much more. You moved with his body, with what he wanted.

“Let’s take this to my room.” You whispered in his ear.

Johnny pulled away from you and looked you in the eyes, “If we pass that door (Y/N), I am going to devour you whole. So make sure that is what you want.”

“Ravish me Johnny, I beg you.”

And just like that, you went from being on the couch in the living room to being thrown on your bed with Johnny climbing in between your legs without missing a beat.

Once that door was crossed, all hell broke loose and you saw a side of that man that will have your mouth water every time you think about him from now on.

Tongues were deep in each other mouth’s trying to savor every taste possible, teeth were knocking into each other at the force your lips were meeting. Hands were mixed together trying to unbutton pants.

You were fumbling around with his belt when he pinned your hands with his own above your head and pulled away from your mouth.

“We’re very eager for more, aren’t we?” He teased softly biting your earlobe.

You tried hard to keep your breath elevated to not give away just how much you wanted this to happen, how much you wanted him but it was very much not working.

Johnny heard your light panting and chuckled seductively in your ear, “Don’t worry baby girl, I’ll give you what you want.”

He sat up letting go of your hands, checking out your semi-naked body with his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes eating you whole.

The wild things that were running through his mind made him excited beyond his control, he could feel his fingertips itch with the need to feel you, to touch you. He wanted all of you.

Johnny looked you in the eyes and placed his hand on your cheek, “But not yet, there’s so much I want to do to you first.” He traced his finger from your lips down to your chest, to your stomach, to the waistband of your shorts.

He ripped off your shorts and laid down in between your legs just enough for him to be face to face with your aching core. You could feel his soft breath on your skin, goosebumps breaking out all over your body.

You were fully exposed to him for him to do anything and everything he desired with your naked being. The air was heavy and your mind was clouded with lust.

In the one breath, your legs were thrown over his shoulders and his face was buried in the depths of you pussy, savoring all the juices that were dripping off your hot skin.

His tongue licked up your folds, his nose rubbing against your nub for a split second, “Mmm, exactly what I thought you’d taste like.”

You shadowed his hands as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips. Heavy breathing and soft moans were leaving your mouth needing more.

“More Johnny, please” You begged pushing his head deeper into your core.

One of his hands left your hips and moved down to penetrate your walls. One finger went in first to feel you out but you still felt empty.

You hurriedly begged him for more, it wasn’t enough.

He slipped another finger inside, pumping them slowly just to tease you. He wanted to keep hearing you beg for him, it was doing wonders for his dominate side.

“Stop teasing Johnny.”

Your tone sounded very order like despite your heavy breathing. Something in Johnny flipped like a switch, no one gave him orders, especially not in the bedroom.

“What did you say?” Johnny seized all actions and hovered over you causing a small whine to escape your lips.

When you started, the look in his eyes were filled with hunger but now, there was a fire burning behind them. A part of you felt like you were supposed to feel scared maybe, if not a little worried.

But that wasn’t case. You weren’t exactly sure what risk you were running here but you wanted to find out. If he wanted to tear you from limb to limb right now, you would let him.

“I told you to stop teasing.”

For a second you swore his eyes turned pitch black before they went back to their normal color. Excitement began to radiate off your bodies when one of his hands wrapped around your neck tightly.

“You do not tell me what to do (Y/N). I tell you what to do and you listen.”

Fuck, your body was experiencing a heat you have never felt before, with anybody. You wanted him badly, all of him and everything he had to offer.

Without warning, Johnny shoved three fingers into your aching pussy. His speed now was nothing compared to what he was doing earlier.

Your hands wrapped around his wrist with massive strength, trying to stop your body from shaking off the bed. There was sounds that wanted to escape your throat but they couldn’t. Your vision was turning white

Words were being spoken to you but they were barely audible, your brain was mush and could not make sense of anything going on around you.

Johnny tightened his grip around your neck harder and forced you to focus on him, “Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to finger fuck you this hard?”

“Look at me.” he ordered, burying his fingers deeper in you and curling them right at your sweet spot, his thumb rubbing circles on your nub.

He wanted you to ride his fingers while you came, he wanted you to feel everything inch of his fingers.

“I’m gon-” You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillows with pure pleasure, your nails digging into his skin. Your legs were trying hard to close around his hand before he pushed them open with his elbow.

Your body couldn’t hold it any longer, you shook uncontrollably and let go. You gushed of sweet relief, there was an ache in your throat and you were sure you were screaming his name but just couldn’t hear yourself.

After what felt forever, the wave of pleasure finally faded and your body went completely limp. Your nails no longer dug into Johnny’s skin, your eyelids couldn’t stay open, and your breathing was decreasing.

Johnny got off the bed to get a cloth to wipe his hands and to clean you up a bit. While doing so, he was gentle and you laid with your eyes still closed.

Once he was done, he threw the cloth to the side and then kissed your cheek, “You haven’t said anything since you squirted everywhere, you okay?”

You laughed and nodded yes, not having any real energy to use your voice. You finally opened your eyes to look at Johnny in the eyes.

He had a smirk plastered on his face, feeling overly satisfied that he had you this drained from only fingering you. He couldn’t wait to see how you’d be after he was fully done with you.

“You think you can handle more or you want to tap out here?” Johnny asked, tracing his finger down your neck.

With your voice raspy and a smirk on your lips, you answered, “Fuck me Johnny. Fuck me hard.”

What Could Have Been?

~~

Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, I've just been dealing a lot this last month. But hopefully I'll have this whole month to get back to where I was before.

Really hope you enjoy this chapter!

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