#i’m so wound up and i’m fucking dying for a conversation where the both of us are focused on each other

[darthvaporwave]

old man yells at cloud but i do actually hate texting as a means of connecting to people because it’s not good for long involved conversations; the whole setup is just for bytes of information you’re both just half paying attention to

#i am dying to have conversations but that is not what it is for #that’s not what any of these technological constructs are for #social media? not for conversations! #no wonder we’re all so alienated yet constantly plugged in #it masquerades as a connecting tool but it does not give you a bridge for connection in any meanginful way #i’m so wound up and i’m fucking dying for a conversation where the both of us are focused on each other #listening and exchanging ideas and getting something from the other person while giving back!!! fuck

[nordicmuse]

Down by the River - Astarion x Tav Romance/Sm!t

After Astarion is shamed for what he is, he and Tav find themselves confronting the dynamic of their relationship, and if it can even be that.

Fading embers crackled as the group sat around the dying fire. It was late, and conversation had dulled to the occasional mumble about stiff muscles or the notice of a previously looked over wound. Tav stifled a yawn as she lazily spun a dagger between her fingers, having now cleaned it of goblin blood and polishing it until it shone her worse-for-wear face in the firelight.

Shadowheart rolled her head on her shoulders and sighed as an unpleasant pop sounded. Tav winced. To her right, Gale was nursing a sore knee, courtesy of a bad tumble, and sat with it out sideways, wrapped for support. They’d taken a hell of a beating today, but they were alive - more than what they could say for some of the druids and tieflings. Guilt still weighed heavily there it seemed.

Shadowheart stood on stiff legs and sighed, breaking the silence. “Well, I don’t know about the lot of you all, but today’s kicked my ass. I’m turning in.”

Tav opened her mouth to speak, but the rustling of leaves silenced her, making her palm her dagger. She relaxed as a mess of white hair pushed through the bushes and Astarion stepped into camp. His shirt was torn and bloodied from the day’s events, both his and slain foes alike, but where earlier they had browned as they dried, fresh bright splotches scattered amongst them. They were minimal, but undeniably there. He’d been feeding.

“Welcome back. Not that we noticed you were gone,” Shadowheart teased.

Gale rolled his eyes. “Must you go and do that while the rest of us are awake? We don’t exactly care to see-”

“Gale!” Tav whisper-shouted. She flashed apologetic eyes towards the vampire spawn.

Astarion rolled his eyes. “No, please, let him go on. You’re so very charming. I accept, but with a request of my own. You can’t eat in front of me either. Have to play fair, after all, and it’s hardly kind to rub it in that what I used to enjoy can’t sustain me anymore.”

“You should know to just ignore him by now,” Shadowheart chided him.

“Or better yet,” Astarion continued, “You eat whatever you want at any time, but if I see a speck of gravy on your shirt or a stray crumb, I’ll remind you just how inconsiderate you are.” His smirk did nothing to hide the pair of stained, elongated teeth at either corner of his mouth.

“You are vile,” Gale berated, raising awkwardly to stand on his bad knee.

“Hmf. Suppose that you are entitled to your opinions.”

“It’s not a huge favor to ask that you keep those monstrous tendencies to yourself. Though you clearly had no problem making it Tav’s prob-”

“That is enough!” Tav shouted, bolting to her feet. She pointed an admonishing finger at Gale. “You’re going to lecture him about what he eats when I had to watch you consume a pair of boots just yesterday? For fuck’s sake, find something better to gripe about!” she hissed.

“And you!” She turned to Astarion. “Learn when to walk away!”

A pregnant pause fell over the group as she stared them both down.

“Tav is right,” Shadowheart said. “We need to stop bickering. We’re all complicated. No use in pointing out what makes it different.”

Astarion glanced down at Tav, then brusquely averted his gaze. “Suppose you’re right. Now, if there’s nothing else to be said, I think I’ll be changing into fresh clothes and turning in.” As he stepped away, Gale scoffed to himself. Tav watched as Astarion hesitated that half-step, sighed, and continued to his tent.

Shadowheart and Gale excused themselves as well, but Tav stayed by the fire, sitting on her bedroll. Thoughts consumed her. Why were people so vile to him? He hadn’t hurt any of them. She grimaced. Well, not exactly. But she had let him. Of course she was aware that he had snuck up on her that first night. But she had offered himself to her freely, once the shock had passed. And, try as she might, she couldn’t convince herself that he would have fed from her if she had never stirred or simply refused. He tried to deny it at every turn, but that glimmer was there. Humanity.

And it made it all the damn more conflicting when she had offered herself to him again. And again. And again.

There was no denying it. She couldn’t hide the bruising or puncture marks on her neck, and she was admittedly lethargic the day following a feeding, but seeing him so rejuvenated made it somehow worth it. It didn’t make any damned sense. Why was she sacrificing herself for someone people saw as a monster? Probably because she didn’t see him that way at all. Not anymore.

And then something strange happened - Astarion had reeled her into a conversation about that fateful night, talked about how it seemed to have awoken an appetite (though he swore he had no intention of feeding off of Gale of Shadowheart), and being his musing, hypothetical self, he had asked her who she would feed off of if she were like him. And the answer came a bit too quickly. You. He’d laughed it off with thanks for the flattery, but she realized she had admitted something deeper than that.

Tav looked up from the all but extinguished fire, barely an ashen glow. Lanterns were snuffed out around the campsite, but the full moon illuminated the woods in a pale glow. She stood, muscles aching and face still stinging from the slash it had taken across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek today. She told herself she was just taking the long way around to her tent. It wasn’t her fault that it passed his. Besides… she wanted to check on him.

Her hand fell to the tent flap, hesitating as she was unsure of how best to get his attention when knocking wasn’t an option and she didn’t want their other companions to hear her call out to him. She pulled the tent flap back.

“Looking for me?” a saccharine voice whispered. She turned to Astarion’s tall frame leaning against a nearby tree, and dropped the flap.

She hung her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry-”

“Hush,” he said, a finger to his lips. He crooked his finger, beckoning. “Let them sleep. If you want to talk, I suggest we wander off some.”

She nodded, following him down a winding path to the riverbank, where the steady flow of water sang, drowning out their conversation.

“What were you doing out? I thought you were going to bed, too.”

“I could accuse you of the same. But if you mean to ask if I was feeding, then no, so you needn’t worry.” Defensive malice dripped from his words. 

Her heart stung. Was he accusing her of being appalled? “You know I don’t care about that - not in any bad sense. So then what were you doing?”

He leaned back against a large boulder, arms crossed over his chest. “Thinking. I might be able to be in daylight now thanks to our little passengers, but I’ve been a dark dweller for hundreds of years. It’s oddly comforting once you’re used to it. A monster can hardly change its true nature,” he bit out.

“You’re not a monster.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“You don’t get to decide that! I let you feed off of me. Why would I let you do that unless I gave a damn about your wellbeing? When I know you can survive off of animals, yet bare my neck and let you take from me?”

He averted his eyes. “I never meant to insult you.” He stepped away from the boulder, staring into the black water. “But even I have to admit that you’re a puzzle I can’t solve.”

“It’s not a puzzle, Astarion. I just… I just want you to be okay,” she admitted, surprised by her boldness.

“I’ve survived how many more lifetimes than you, darling girl? I’ve managed,” he quipped.

You feel it, too. You have to…, her mind wondered.

Tav stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Astarion’s arm. “You might actually believe you’re a monster, or maybe that’s what you tell yourself to prepare for the inevitable storm of assholes that can’t see past their own prejudices. But I’m telling you what I see, and that has to be worth something.”

He turned, red eyes locking onto hers. “And what is that?”

Had her chest been heaving this hard a minute ago? Her breath stuttered. “I see you.”

His eyes fell to her lips, she shook with anticipation. Was he wondering what it would be like to close that gap just as much as she was? Her hand fell to his arm again, trailing down to his fingers as she locked her hand into his. Was he shaking? Yes, he was undoubtedly glancing between her eyes and lips, torn in the middle of a decision. One she wanted so badly to make for the both of them - but he needed to be the one to decide. To be allowed to choose for himself.

After what felt like many moments of empty promise, she pulled back, her hand leaving his. As she turned away, his eyes widened, like the loss had panicked him.  He grabbed her hand and stared at her, uncertainty in his red eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” And she meant it, by every definition.

He pulled her body against his, lips crashing onto hers with fervor. His hands cradled her neck as he backed her against the nearest tree, all semblance of his self-control lost. Good. She didn’t want it. His tongue searched for hers, a different kind of ravenous, and he groaned pleasurably as she wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into his hair. His kisses trailed down her neck, hesitating at the marks he had left on her. He needed to be distracted from where his mind was returning to. 

She used her leg to pull him flush into her body, an unmistakable hardness pressing against her. Both gasped at the contact. Her hands flew to his fresh shirt, opening the first few buttons, but he put his hand over hers. Breathless, he asked, “Leave it on. Please.” Shame clouded his eyes, brows furrowing. “I have… scars.”

“We all do,” Tav said, confusion riddling her voice. “Hell, I have an open cut running across my face right now. That will probably scar, too.”

Though his desire was palpable in the air, he pulled back another excruciating inch. “These ones are… different, to put it lightly.”

“From the transformation...” Her confused look softened, but turned to horror in her eyes. But not at him. At whoever could have done that to him.

Astarion didn’t say it, but he didn’t deny it. He backed up a step, though he looked physically pained to create the distance. “You don’t actually want this, Tav. You deserve better.”

“I want all of you.”

He grimaced. Fucking grimaced. “There’s not a lot of me left.”

She advanced, hand touching his cheek. “Then let me take whatever you will give.”

His eyes clouded with something - relief, resolve? But he nodded fervently and lurched in to kiss her like she was air and he was suffocating. She ran her hands over the planes of his chest exposed by the few buttons she had opened, wishing she could run them along his back, but respected his wishes. She would only take what she was given. His hands fumbled for her belt, unbuckling it as she pushed them down her thighs, exposing herself to the chill night. Her pants and boots were thrown haphazardly to the side, and they both heard the unmistakable tumbling and splash of something heavy hitting the water nearby.

They hesitated long enough to laugh as he lifted her into his arms, bracing her against the boulder. Tav cried out, biting off a moan as a long finger slid through her slick heat. Astarion groaned, producing the soaked finger in front of him. And sniffed. He was fucking smelling her.

“Oh, darling,” he purred. “I’ve tasted your blood. But this is going to be divine.”

Words couldn’t form as he sank to his knees, barely giving her a moment to realize his intentions before his warm tongue slid against her. She gasped, fingers tangling in his hair. She couldn’t help the involuntary tug when he sucked her clit into his mouth, working over the sensitive bud.

“Delicious,” he sighed against her.

Her brain fogged, and certainly not from the damned tadpole. But was it possible that everything she was feeling, he felt, too? It would explain the sense of mesmerized pride she felt.

“As-Astarion!” she begged, bucking her hips against his mouth.

He placed a steadying hand over her hip bone and broke away, causing her to cry out in frustration. “Quiet, now, or you’ll let everyone in on our little game here.”

Suave as he was, she knew. He didn’t want her to be embarrassed if she was caught with him. And it burned her, because nobody else gave a damn who fucked who the night before. Unless it was him, apparently.

“Let them hear,” she whispered. “I want them to know.”

“You say that-”

“Then believe me.”

She sank to her knees, shoving him backwards so she could straddle him. She unlaced his leather pants, growing frustrated with them and allowing him to free himself. He groaned at the relief from the confines, and need radiated in her core like alchemist’s fire. He was going to be the death of her, but not in the way he worried about.

Her hand encompassed him, and he jolted, lips parting. “Darling, I don’t mean to rush you, but I’m afraid you’re going to spoil your own fun if you keep that up.”

A smirk played at Tav’s lips. “Been a while?”

“What can I say? I’ve been a bit preoccupied with being kidnapped and turned into a nursery.” But the sharp, joking tone of his voice dropped. “But, yes. I don’t often take people to bed. Despite Gale’s prodding, I do still have impulse control, and I don’t seem to enjoy meaningless little trysts.”

She hesitated. “Are you saying this means something?”

“Please, don’t make me answer that tonight. But I think you already know that answer, even if I can’t bring myself to say it.”

“I understand.”

He took her hand, holding it between them. “Thank you.”

He coaxed her off of him and kneeled, closing his eyes as he unfastened the last buttons of his shirt.

“Astar-”

“I know what I said. And I have no plans of letting you see that. Not tonight, maybe not ever… but I’m not about to bed you on the cold ground,” he explained, pushing the white shirt off his shoulders and laying it on the ground. He beckoned her closer, drawing her into another fervent kiss and laying her onto the thin fabric. He kneeled over her, supporting himself on his forearms. They both sighed as his cock nudged her entrance. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Thank Gods.”

He pushed into her, sinking in inch by inch until his hips were flush with hers. Tav gasped, hooking her arms around him. She felt the marks a moment too late, and her eyes flew open, boring into his. But he was just watching her, studying her like he was waiting for regret to ebb into her eyes. It never came.

Her body ached from more than the ass beating she had taken today. It ached for him, wanted him impossibly closer. Her hips bucked as she tried to draw him in, causing his breath to stutter as his gaze grew hazy, setting a steady rhythm rocking into her.

“Astarion, fuck-” she gasped, pulling him flush to her chest. “I need you. Please.”

“Darling, you have me,” he rasped, punctuating the thought with a tantalizing grind of his hips that rubbed her clit as he moved. His movements grew feral as he kissed her fervently, head dipping down to her neck. She groaned at the distinct feel of his teeth grazing her neck. And though she knew he only did it to heighten her senses…

“I want- want you to- fuck… I want you to feed on me,” she begged.

Astarion’s hips stuttered as if the thought alone was going to drive him over the edge.

“Tav, now isn’t the time. I’ve had enough to satiate me.”

“But not enough to fill you. And you said it yourself - it can be extremely pleasurable in the right circumstances. And I want to give it.”

“Are you sure?” he breathed, eyes wide with doubt even as his hips rolled slowly against hers.

Her hands guided him to the healing bruise on her neck, and a moment passed where she questioned if he would accept her offer. And then a sharp sting radiated pain thorough her neck and shoulder. Pain and wooziness and… yes, that. She quivered, surrendering to his touch, to everything that was him. She would die for this, would beg for it without shame. She was his, whether his heart understood that or not. Even if it never did.

Her stomach tightened, release a cliff edge she just needed the slightest push towards… Maybe their minds were more interconnected than she thought. “Come for me,” Astarion groaned, reaching down to rub her clit and punctuating the thought with sharp, dizzying thrusts.  And the world shattered.

“Astarion!” Tav screamed, orgasm ripping through her like earth-shattering magic.

He panted against her, pushed her legs up to drive into her impossibly deeper, sweat beading on his forehead. She gasped, sensitive from her climax, and fell deliriously into a second one as he groaned, burying himself to the hilt and stilling, cock twitching inside of her as he finally broke apart.

He stilled, lowering her legs and bracing himself, eyes closed as he fought for breath. He slid out of her slowly, regretfully, and fell to the ground beside her. He pulled her into him, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, damp with sweat.

Laying on his stomach, he tucked an arm under his head and turned tired but sated eyes on her. No, more than sated. Adoring.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, disbelief heavy in his eyes.

“So are you. Wonderful and handsome and smarmy and arrogant sometimes… but amazing. I meant it. I see you, Astarion.”

His throat bobbed, then his gaze fell to the dirty, frumpy shirt they were lying on. As if realizing his position suddenly, he swore, jolting upright and turning his scarred back away.

“Damn it. I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean for you to see that. You just…,” he sighed, “make it too easy to let my guard down.”

Tav pulled herself into a sitting position. “I don’t mind it, Astarion.” She cupped his cheek, directing his eyes to hers. “And, for whatever it’s worth… you’re beautiful. Unique. Something I want to spend a thousand nights mapping out.”

He smiled. “Then you’d be the first. And some horrible, selfish part of me wants you to be the last,” he admitted softly.

Tav leaned forward, wiping a droplet of her own blood from the corner of his mouth.

“I think I would join you in that eternity. We’ll find a way to make this work, if that’s what you want, too. I promise.”

“I… I believe you,” he breathed, pulling her into his arms.

“We should get back to camp. I’m sure tomorrow can’t wait to kick our asses again, and we both need rest.”

They dressed in silence, minus one boot that might have accidentally somehow ended up in the river. He apologized, but she could only laugh. He surprised her when he outstretched a hand. She took it as they strode silently back into camp.

With his tent just past hers, Astarion hesitated outside of her tent, lingering. Their hands stayed locked as he pressed his forehead to hers appreciatively. “Goodnight, you strange and wonderful thing,” he mused, smiling down at her.

It was a reach, but she couldn’t just let him walk away. It was some agonizing fear that if he left now, he would convince himself that this was all just for fun, that this was a distraction for both of them. “Stay,” she asked, searching his eyes.

“If I stay, the others-”

“I don’t care. Stay.”

Slowly, he nodded. “Alright.”

She fell asleep in the folds of his arms, not minding the dirty shirt he slept in. Hopefully he would ease about his back scars over time with her, reveal more of the history, but she was just content to be held by him tonight, and hopefully many nights after. And Astarion slept peacefully beside her for the first time in many long nights.

She woke to his gentle gaze roaming over her, taking in her face, her hair, her breathing. He adjusted as she stirred, almost apologetic.

“Good morning,” Tav murmured, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning. I apologize for staring, but… I wasn’t convinced it was real when I woke up this morning. I’m still not.”

Sleepily, she moved forward and pressed her lips softly to his.

He sighed, relief melting over him. “Thank Gods.”

Between his hands running through her hair and his adoring words, she drifted back into the daze between sleep and waking. Just resting her eyes a bit longer…

Except when she opened them again, Astarion was gone. The distinct voices of Gale and Shadowheart filtered through the tent walls. Camp was awake. Had he snuck out unnoticed, still embarrassed to be discovered? Her heart sank at the thought.

She left her tent, strolling into the center of camp where Gale was cooking breakfast over the fire and sitting on a cut log.

“Good morning,” Tav said, nodding towards Shadowheart who sat polishing pieces of her armor.

The cleric nodded. “Good morning.”

Gale nodded curtly. “Morning.”

She knew she was showing her hand too much, but worry ebbed into her veins. “Has anyone seen-”

“Your boot. Yes. Found it by the bank behind your tent, actually,” came his steady voice. Astarion waltz into camp, throwing the soggy leather boot down by the fire to dry. “It’s, eh- a bit damp. If it doesn’t dry well, we can visit a merchant in town, no doubt. Or check at the grove.”

Her relieved smile met his content one. “Good morning, darling. Sleep well?”

“You mean you actually got sleep last night?” Gale retorted, shooting Astarion an accusatory glance.

If at all possible, the elf paled, but a snarky grin masked it well. “What gave it away, Waterdeep? Her beautiful sounds, or the shirt I’m wearing? Had to wear the dirty one I bedded her on top of last night so as not to wear that bloody one that upsets you so.”

Gale stiffened, not expecting the crass admittance.

“But… yes,” Astarion said. “Tav and I are… trying this. And I don’t give a single damn what you think. All that matters,” he laced his fingers into hers, “is what she thinks. What I think.”

Shadowheart smiled. “If this is what you want,” she glanced at Tav, “ I’m happy for you.”

Tav nodded, lacing her fingers tighter into his. “It is.”

Gale nodded. “Seems like I’m on the unpopular opinion side of this debate. Which also means that I might have been wrong about you,” he said, locking eyes with Astarion. Astarion nodded, and the conversation ended. A quiet agreement of mutual respect.

Hours later, Tav ripped at the buttons of Astarions shirt, shoving it partly off his shoulders so she could roam her hands freely over his chest. Her tunic followed swiftly as he laid her onto his bedroll in his tent.

“Last night,” she gasped between kisses, “I told you- that I- wanted to explore you for a thousand nights. This is only two.”

“You’re foolish if you think I’m giving you up after the thousandth,” he rasped.

She laughed, falling into their passionate embrace.

#Astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #down by the river #larian studios #astarion x tav #bg3 smut #astarion smut #astarion spoilers #baldurs gate tav #bg3 tav #my tav

[saintrvckwell]

Till the end (ellie williams x reader)

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: in the midst of brutal madness, ellie finds a moment to confess what she fears the most.

warnings: fluff, swearing, slight angst, soft moments of ellie and the reader

words count: 3.3k

a/n: oh yeah. i’m still alive. and finally wrote something that does not have ten thousands words wow? owed you something nice, tried my best to achieve that. it's short, but (i hope) comforting, at least. seattle ellie deserves the whole world.

"For all that it's worth, I would have loved you till the end."

‣

Ellie never wanted you to become a part of this. Her complicated, unresolved issues with Joel, her own inner fight with the guilt of not dying for something she considered to be the purpose of her life and repayment for those she had lost along the way. Nor be part of the inevitable outcome that Joel’s actions had caused.

Ellie never wanted to scar the only pure, untouched safety net she had in her life. 

But when she stood upon Nora’s body she had previously beaten to death, sourcing the information she came for to Seattle in the first place, she could no longer escape. To the person she was becoming, to Joel whose eyes were slowly fading away from her memory. From the look, you gave her when she came back to the theatre and Jesse let her in.

With the bloodstains on her clothes, and bruises on her arms, she handed Dina the map and you couldn’t help but notice how fragile her whole body has suddenly become. 

You didn’t say much, knowing there wasn’t anything that could fix the way Ellie felt, that could find the parts of herself she already lost while avenging someone whom she couldn’t even face after the heinous act she just committed.

Joel never wanted her to lose the remaining bits of innocence she had within her. He never wanted her to taste the ugliness of the world the way he did. Yet here she was. Convinced she had to finish this, no matter what was it going to take. How much was it going to cost. 

Jesse and Dina stood aside with a bloodstained map, marking Abby’s supposed location while you carefully grabbed Ellie’s wrist, wishing to take her to the back and clean her wounds. She couldn’t even look into your eyes, avoiding it the whole time you walked through the seats, all the way backstage. 

You sat her down on the couch, letting her take the clothes off while you went to search for some useful supplies. Back there, Dina and Jesse were upstairs, sitting by the radio, contemplating a good way of finding Tommy and the easiest route to hunt down Abby and be done with this whole thing. 

The minute you walked in, Jesse couldn’t help himself. “That was definitely not her blood.” 

Two days in and you already noticed how much this had cost her already. 

You didn’t comment, still searching through the cabinets. 

“Maybe we should just pack it up and leave,” Jesse whispered. “Right in the morning. We were in deep shit yesterday already. After this, they must be patrolling for us. We should just find Tommy and get the fuck out of here.” 

“And go where?” you dared to ask, shifting your attention to him. 

“Back home?” Dina shrugged his shoulders, joining the conversation.

“See,” you closed the cabinets and stood up, finally paying both of them your full attention. “She doesn’t have that anymore.” 

None of them would dare to argue about that. 

Jesse meant well, you were well aware of that. After all, Ellie was the reason he came to Seattle in the first place. But even though he was determined to help his friend, Jesse would never understand the full reason and justification of the way Ellie felt—why she was doing all of that.

You couldn’t help but sigh. “Ellie can’t see the sense of right and wrong right now. And the more you tell her how stupid and dangerous this is, the less she will listen to you..” 

“So you’re supporting this?” he wondered, disgruntled. 

“No,” you replied. “But I know that I can either give her shit and go home or stay and make sure she’s not going to lose the only parts of herself she has left.” 

You found what you were looking for, parts of that. Combined with what you packed before you left Jackson, you had nearly enough to fix all of Ellie’s injuries. Without uttering another word, you left Dina and Jesse to their own thoughts, not feeling the need to add anything else. As much as you understood their need to go back before things get significantly worse, you knew she would not go. 

And you would never forgive yourself if you just left her here, all alone. 

Especially after what happened a few minutes later. 

She was sitting on the old sofa by the time you got back to her, facing you backward. Before you even tried to whisper her name, you were stopped by a sight that immediately caught your attention. Most of her clothes were lying on the floor, soaked in blood and dirt. She sat there, half-naked, with her back displaying endless bruises, cuts and wounds. You couldn’t count all of them even if you tried. 

Ellie knew you were already there, but didn’t dare to look at you—not after you saw that. She was too weak to face you. Not because she was afraid of seeing the sadness and worry in your eyes; she had already gotten used to seeing that in the last two days.

More than that, Ellie would never be able to face a disappointment, not from you. Not from someone who was there for her. Who never asked why she stopped talking to Joel, why she begged you to switch patrols so she could avoid him. 

You were the last person who could see the good parts, despite digging through blood and tears to find them. And after Joel, she couldn’t afford to lose that. 

“Ellie?” you whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

She wiped her tears away and nodded, giving you space to continue. 

“Is it alright if I clean your wounds?” 

You felt the need to get her approval.  

Doing her absolute best to stop those sobs from escaping her trembling lips, she covered her mouth and nodded again, giving you what you had asked for. 

You sat down quietly, right behind her, with your bucket, cloth, and nearly empty first aid kit you brought from Jackson. First, you cleaned the rest of the dry blood on her shoulders and lower back while she sat still. She let you help her, repeatedly wiping away the tears that were now heavily streaming down her bruised cheeks. 

Most of her wounds needed just some cleaning to prevent any further infection. You took your time with each one of them, making sure you were not hurting her anymore. She felt how delicate you were with your touch, how carefully you were trying to help her ease the pain.

The softness and care you had allowed her to forget about what she did out there for a second and enjoy the comfort you provided. 

A long exhale left her rosy lips. She found her mind drifting towards that the day; and the events that inevitably followed. She set her mind on leaving for Seattle the minute she left that place, despite Tommy’s desperate attempts to talk her out of it. Even when he decided to head out there first in order to protect her, she couldn’t appreciate the good thought. The pain clouded her judgment.

That day, when Tommy left, she fought with you for hours. It was the first time you saw Ellie since the horrific incident at the lodge. She was standing by your fireplace, announcing that she was leaving for Seattle and she was hoping (more like counting on the fact) that you were going to cover her ass while she quietly goes on her revenge quest.

And being the person you were and having the amount of love you had for her, of course, you would not let her go alone. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she stopped the minute she heard that proposal. “This isn’t your fucking business. And I’m not making you a part of that.” 

“I’m not asking for permission, Ellie,” you whispered, stepping closer to her. “I’m going with you, end of conversation.”

It went on for another twenty minutes when she was trying to talk out of you joining her. She was harsh, calling you a naive idiot more than once. But you knew that all those words, all this pain were coming from the same place of sadness she was trying to suppress. You would never hold any of this against her. 

Eventually, as she understood, it didn’t matter how hard she tried, how harsh she might have been to you. You were determined to go and there was nothing Ellie could change about that. 

Thinking about it now, weeks later, she felt guilty for the way she spoke to you. You were the last person who would deserve such treatment, given how faithfully you stood by her this whole time.

Throughout most of the days on the road, Ellie was withdrawn, immersed in her own thoughts. She wasn’t talkative but if she happened to say a word or two, she was taking out her own frustration on you.

After everything she said over the past couple of weeks, you had a full right to turn away at any point and head back home. But you didn't. 

You always stayed, despite how unbearable it was at times. Ensuring her that you were not going to walk away, in Seattle or anywhere else.

And now, as you were sitting here, cleaning her blood-stained spots and washing away the shame and guilt she had been wearing around, Ellie knew how high the stakes were—how petrifying was the thought of losing you. Despite her numerous attempts to chase you away, despite the fact that you never really established where you stood when it came to the other, you meant a lot to her. More than she was willing to admit. 

“Ellie, this one’s really deep. I’m gonna need to sew it,” you whispered, grabbing the needle and the thread, interrupting her thoughts. 

She didn’t respond, just left you to do your thing and stayed immersed in her head. 

“It’s probably gonna hurt a little,” you warned her before sticking the needle through the skin of her shoulder. 

“It won’t. I don’t feel anything,” she mumbled; for the first time. 

The response forced you to stop for a second and rethink what you have just heard. You didn’t know whether you should ask for more information. Instead, you finished your job and within a few minutes, the open wound was gone.

Ellie suddenly felt the coldness wrapping around her as soon as your hands left her body as you handed her a clean t-shirt from your backpack. 

“You should get some rest,” you whispered, standing up and grabbing the bucket with blood-soaked clothes. “I still have your snacks in my backpack, in case you were hungry.” 

There was no reaction from her. She put on the shit and stayed in the same spot, still not willing to face you. 

Part of you wanted to rush over and comfort her. But knowing how withdrawn she was lately, you didn’t want to drive her away any further. So you stood there for a second, with a bucket in your hands, and watched her, wiping away the tears from her puffy, red cheeks. 

“Please, don’t leave me.” 

It was the moment you reached for the doorknob, halfway out of the room, when she suddenly uttered that pleading statement. The walls she had been so determined to build around her aching existence were slowly falling to the ground, leaving her on her own.

There was a thought in Ellie’s head. Thought that appeared when she was gripping the iron pole, beating the words out of her enemy’s weakened body. Nora was on the verge of her own strength, not having any more power to fight Ellie, so she gave her friend up.

She handed Ellie what she came for in the first place, leaving her space to strike for one last time—finishing what she started, ending Nora’s prolonged suffering. 

And the moment she did that—hitting the one last punch, she saw you. She saw the thought of you in her mind and froze. She glanced down upon the lifeless body—but saw you. Saw you lying in your own blood, dying by her own hand. And for the first time, she feared the person she was becoming. Facing the outcome. 

Making you collateral damage of her revenge quest was a risk of its own. But being capable of hurting you on her own what was she feared the most. 

For a second, you had to process what you just heard. It wasn’t until the sobs that left her trembling mouth you felt the need to turn around and take a look at her. 

She was now standing right in front of you, finally daring to face you. 

Daring to face her what she feared the most. 

“I’m scared.”

For weeks now, she was quietly suffering, mourning in her thoughts. Now the pain crawled on the surface and she could no longer avoid it. For the first time, she let you see all of that—see the desperation in her faded green eyes and realize how long she has been suppressing all of this inside. 

“What are you scared of?” you whispered and took a step closer to her. 

She took a deep breath, trying to get ahold of her sobs before she continued, still looking into your eyes: “Of what I did.” 

You knew Ellie was not always as tough as she tried to portray herself. But seeing that right in front of you, seeing her falling down felt like a shot coming through your chest. 

“What did you do, Ellie?” 

There was a curiosity in your mind, followed by fear of what you might get. 

“I made her talk.” 

It was somehow enough. Enough to understand that the desperate need for a feeling of consolation was growing with each strike Ellie hit and with each toll it took on her.  

“Ellie—“ you took a step closer, reaching for her but she swiftly pulled away, shaking her head. 

“I’m scared,” she repeated, daring to look into your eyes. “What if I might—“

“No,” you stopped her without hesitation, knowing where this was headed. “You won’t.” 

Brushing her tears away, she suddenly looked down. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I don’t even know what I’m capable of.” 

There was a genuine worry in her voice, fear of her own self. But after all those years, after everything you’ve encountered together, you trusted her enough to confidently proclaim that she would never hurt you. 

You trusted her. But she didn’t trust herself, that was the core issue.

Which you became aware of the second she bursted into tears. 

Ellie was never quite an emotional person; she mostly tried to deal with everything on her own and as quietly as possible. Until now.

“I can’t lose you.” 

And there it was. 

The revelation between uncontrollable sobs made you come closer. 

“But I’m afraid it’s gonna happen anyway and it terrifies me to death.” 

She came to terms with the fact that you might never become hers, long before this. For all those years, Ellie yearned for you in silence, realizing she will accept any kind of role in your life, as long as she is part of it. Only now she was realising how dangerous this wish had become.

Because suddenly, there was a price. 

She was never more honest in her life than right now, displaying all of her worries in front of you. Displaying how important you were for her. For a moment, you thought, if there, perhaps, was more to her words. 

“You’re not gonna lose me, Ellie,” you whispered, slowly reaching for her hand, again. “That's just not gonna happen,” you intertwined your fingers with hers. 

“You don’t know that,” she mumbled, trying to pull away her hand but you stopped her. 

“I do. As long as I have a say in it,” you objected, stepping even closer. “No matter what you say, what you do. I’m not leaving. You can yell at me, for all I care—just like you did in my living room. But I told you then and I’m telling you now. I’m not leaving you, now or ever.” 

At that moment, Ellie suddenly didn’t know which thing she feared more. Whether it was the idea of losing you by her own force or knowing that despite her capacity to hurt you, you were never going to walk away.

Ellie couldn’t pull you into her darkness—but at the same time, she couldn’t leave you. You were her home, her whole world. Or at least, what was left of it. 

“Can you stay?” she pleaded, reaching for your other hand. 

You nodded, letting a fleeting smile slip onto your lips as you pulled her closer, wrapping both of your hands around her neck. She was hesitant at first but the second her body crashed against yours, she gave in. There was a sigh of relief escaping from her lips as she buried her head into your shoulder; tightly gripping your waist.

Making you realize how starved she must have been for that hug.

You stayed together in that little dressing room, lying together in the dark with Ellie’s hand caressing your cheek. You promised yourself to stay up and alert to watch over her but found yourself falling asleep in her arms. Now she was lying in front of you, studying your appearance, her mind drifting away to different ends. 

She wondered. About her. About you. 

She wondered if things were different, if perhaps, there was any other ending for you—one less threatening. She wondered if she would, under different circumstances, find the courage to finally confess. She wondered if the two of you would have a shot at having a relatively normal life together, despite the world you were living in. 

She wanted the best for you, and nothing less. She wanted to protect you. From the heinous world outside, and sometimes from herself as well. Looking at you, lying so peacefully next to her, she couldn’t help but think of Joel’s words. 

Perhaps now more than ever, Ellie was facing her own moral battle. There was someone in her life, someone for whom she would quite frankly walk to the edge of the universe and back. Someone whose life was carrying more value than her own. Feasibly, now she had a chance to understand the nature of his actions. 

When she had her own something to fight for. 

“Are you okay?” 

It was your voice that pulled Ellie out of her mind. 

She snapped out of her thoughts and saw your eyes.

“Did I wake you?” she whispered, concern in her voice. 

“No but you should’ve,” you chuckled. “I’m supposed to be making sure that you’re still breathing.” 

Ellie couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve been doing that for the past couple of weeks. Now it’s my turn.” 

You felt her hand, still resting on your cheek. There was a look in her eyes that you could not quite define. In the darkness surrounding you, the two of you were staring into each other’s eyes.

Before she filled the silence with her voice. 

“Hey,” she mumbled, slowly drifting closer to you, her breath dancing on your lips. 

“Hm?” you raised your eyebrows, curious. 

“If things were different,” she whispered, guilt in her voice. “I would’ve given you a lot more than this.” 

Most of the time, Ellie struggled with her words. But now, it was crystal clear. In her own way, she made sure you knew how important you were.

For her.

You leaned closer, grabbing Ellie’s hand and intertwining your fingers. Only then, you looked into her eyes again and smiled, reassuring.

Message received.

“This,” you squeezed her hand, “is enough for me.”

“So, you think you can love even the least I can offer?” she whispered.

There was a smile on your lips. Smile that eased Ellie’s worried mind once you moved closer. “Been doing that for quite some time, already.”

She wanted to give you the world, that and so much more. In Ellie's eyes, that was what you deserved. She wanted to make sure you were going to be happy, despite the circumstances life had both given you.

Both of you were hoping for something else, for so much more.

Yet, you would never walk away. No matter the conditions you were under, you had each other. And that was enough. Enough to stay. Enough to do more than that.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfic #ellie williams tlou #the last of us part ii #tlou2 #ellie seattle day 2 #tlou x you #tlou x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #tlou oneshot

[ludicix]

Reunion

*Pairing: Kakucho x reader *Warning: mentions of death, Character death, Mention of blood/wounds, Angst

Is this it? This is how I’m taken out?

My vision is blurred…my head is pounding.

“Kakucho-” It’s Takemichi..Why is he so fucking loud. “Stay with me Kakucho” 

Oh, we were fighting–I just remembered. Some men jumped us, 

I got hit—-

“Kakucho” Izana…

“Kakucho stay up come on- don’t close those eyes” He picked him up trying to get him to safety. 

The area was ablaze. The fight was a gruesome one. Sweaty bodies were thrown at each other with the intent of causing serious damage. Some of them already beaten to a pulp, some of them already motionless on the cold pitch. 

Kakucho wasn’t aware though. He didn’t have it in him to walk or talk, he had lost too much blood. The pain he felt was dull as his life had already begun leaving his body by the time he had woken up from his miniature coma. 

As more time passed his thoughts slowly deteriorated. Little words and phrases were what he could put together along with the little feeling that his dying nerves could sense. 

“Y/n” where is she- I want her with me 

“Kakucho- come one don’t do that—STAY AWAKE” Izana began to get frustrated. Kakucho was pale, His skin was becoming cold, his eyes were open but Izana was sure he couldn’t see. Izana, placed in the front seat of his car, sped off. 

“Y/n” he whispered again softly. Izana was hearing him, and he understood what he wanted but couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. 

Kakucho wanted to go to you and Izana knew this but how could he do that in the state he was currently in. Kakucho was going to die, so he had to take him to the hospital as soon as possible.

“Y/n '' He whimpered. Tears started falling from his eyes as more of his consciousness was recorded. A wave of pain crashed over him. The pulses in his head became a much deeper, much sharper pain. His vision cleared enough for him to see the stab wound in his stomach that travelled deep. The pain was unbearable.

“It’s ok Kakucho you’ll get through this. You’ll meet her another day…not right now”

This was the last thing Kakucho wanted to hear. He can feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness, he knew he was going and he wanted to go with you by his side.

“Y/n'' He began chanting in between his soft whimpers of pain. It’s part of his instinct to seek you out whenever he was in pain even if you couldn’t do anything to help. 

His strength is slowly depleting and he can no longer hold himself together. He barely had the strength to talk but he did, clinging to the little time he had left in hopes of feeling you in his arms on last time. 

Izana sees this, this person who was once as strong and forceful as a wild forest fire now becomes a dwindling flame bound to blow out. He mustered the courage and changed his route to your house. He was aware that your parents would be home but didn’t care, this was his friend's dying wish and would do anything to make sure it comes true.

“Hold on Kakucho, you're gonna see her one last time” he whispers to him speeding down the road as tears slowly prick his eyes.

You and your parents lived in a flat that was a decent size. The lights were out which was a good indiction that everyone was sleeping. Izana got out of the car and got Kakucho out as fast as he could. He was in his last moments of life. With streams of tears pouring out of his eyes he takes Kakucho to you. Izana is quite familiar with the route to sneak in.

Kakucho frequently visited you. He was obsessed, he was constantly with you and if he wasn’t then you were always the topic of conversation. Everyone knew that he was in love with you.

He cracked the window to your room open and heaved Kakucho in and there you were. He gently placed Kakucho down on your bed and got you off the shelf. 

Kakucho could feel the familiarity of the room. This bed that he so often fell asleep with you in, the desk that you both sat by and did everything but study, the room where you both would dance and sing to your heart's content. You both did this without judgement from others, it was just the two of you. These four walls hold the memories of your relationship and all the hopes and dreams you had for the future.

It had become his home, you had become his family.

He couldn’t help but smile. He was back home, he could feel your presence, he could feel your love. It took all the pain away from his body as his blood and tears soaked the sheets seeping into the mattress. 

He found the strength in himself to shift his body to rest his back against your head board and look around your room one last time with a smile plastered on his face that was still covered in tears and a body that was aching.

Izana placed you into Kakucho’s arms that instantly locked you to his chest. The vessel they kept you in was cold and smooth, it was like a polished vase. As he held you, tears became more abundant.

“Hi baby…”  He said in a barely audible whisper. His words coated in honey and dipped in sugar. He always spoke to you in a gentle loving manner. 

“I’m so glad I got to see you again” He began to rub the smooth vessel just as he used to before you drifted off to sleep.

“I missed you so much. I’m sorry for messing up your bed. Your parents are gonna be mad” He chuckled in the silence of the room.

“This is the last time I get to hold you like this-” “but don’t worry baby, wherever I’m going I’ll find you.” He kissed the top of the vessel and smiled at you.

“And when I find you I’m gonna squeeze you so tight. I know you like tight hugs lovely” His voice begins to break. 

“I know you hate being alone and I know you hate seeing me cry, but don’t worry about anything, ok. I’m coming for you” he turns his body to the side and rests his head against the vessel's hard surface not caring that it was uncomfortable. 

At this point he had stopped fighting to keep his eyes open.

“I love you baby”

His eyes were closed, skin as pale as a ghost but his grip on the vessel never loosened and his smile never faded. Izana checked his pulse and was greeted with nothing but cold skin and fresh blood.

He couldn’t take you out of his hands, he didn’t have the heart too. He was lost and confused and sad. He had just watched his friend die talking to the vessel that holds his lover's ashes. Izana crashed to the floor of your room and silently cried in anger, hurt and confusion.

A/N: This one was sad but I hope you enjoyed it <3

Ludicix

#bonten #tokyo revengers #kakucho #kakucho x reader #kakucho x you #izana kurokawa #character death #anime and manga #alternative #bookish #hanagaki takemichi #love and death #death mention tw #bonten angst #kakuchoangst

[blinkaftermidnight]

tune in next month when we’re on our 6th different au of the same universe AND hey man if you say it i’ll probably say it back idk

THE OBLIGATORY PERSON A PATCHES UP PERSON B’S WOUNDS AND THERE’S LINGERING TOUCHES AND STARING AND AN AWKWARD MOMENT OF REALIZATION WHEN THEY COME OUT OF IT ohhh man,,,now you got me thinking about scars leah probably already has from escaping order 66 and running from the empire and fatin seeing them hrrbrbrbrbrnrbrbr

LEAH IS SO RIPPED TOO PROBABLY ONCE SHE STARTS TRAINING AGAIN like we already saw leah w abs on the island but now she’s working those arms every day ,,,, i’m getting carried away i digress

do you think their first kiss is like a soft moment when they’re finally on the same level or it’s kind of intense like another post ‘we almost died and i can’t imagine losing you’ deal

Everything in my career as a Leatin writer has led to this AU we're building which I don't trust myself to write. It's an incredibly special thing. I love you but don't feel pressured to say it back. I just have a lot of emotions.

OKAY Leah with scars how did I not think of that even though I started the patching up wounds thing?? Brilliant. Just wait until Fatin traces a few with her fingertips and Leah softly tells her where they came from and Fatin's horrified but Leah shrugs it off because she's not about to have an in depth conversation about her Deep Pain with Fatin, who can't understand Order 66 in the same way, even though Fatin did just save her life and they could die literally whenever (so just wait until after the Empire falls and they're together and in love and SAFE and Leah finally starts opening up about her past).

Okay YES Leah's abs and now she's training and her arms are gonna be something to behold, but Fatin...look at Sophia in Uncharted. Fatin is definitely working out, too. They're both gonna be ripped and they're both gonna drool over each other and pretend like that is absolutely not what is happening.

Why can't we have both 😩 because I could see either a soft moment or an intense one. Let's see. Like they've been alone in their ship in hyperspace for a while and they've had some serious conversation about fuck knows what (this is the best part about not actually writing a story - I don't have to know ALL the details) and suddenly they notice they're standing way too close and they've shared way more personal shit than they ever have before and there's so much Tension, but maybe Leah chickens out - the whole Jedi thing is still kinda weird for her, so she backs off, and they pretend like they didn't almost kiss in that weird tender moment they shared.

But then they're in a firefight with Stormtroopers or something, and they're running for their lives, and they're hiding in some alley on some unfamiliar planet, waiting to see if rescue is coming or if they're gonna have to find their own way out. They're thinking they're about to die, because even if they can hold off the Stormtroopers, the Inquisitors won't be far behind - and in this Rebels AU I guess we could have literal Darth Vader exist, because Leah would've just been a padawan when Order 66 happened - so what if fucking Darth Vader himself shows up to cut Leah down? And Leah and Fatin have all this unfinished shit and unacknowledged feelings between them, and they're closer to dying together than they've been before, so they kiss in this really intense moment...and then rescue shows up and they get out alive, and now they have to deal with what they did and with their feelings.

I'm losing my mind I swear this is the best thing that's happened to me this month lmao

#Anonymous #star wars au

[percontaion-points]

These Violent Delights chapters 30 & 31

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 30

Roma’s eyes were blank. His posture was easy, spine straight. “Let’s go,” he said.

Chapter 30 summary: Juliette destroys some flowers, and a concerned Kathleen stops her. Juliette takes off and randomly wanders into White Flower territory, which is a lot easier for her to do since she’s Chinese and… well. This is China. Literally none of this is important. 

There’s a random aside where Marshal reports that he saw Juliette wandering the streets. Then Roma catches up with her. She demands to know why he’d chucked the bomb into the Scarlet’s servant quarters. He tells her that his dad found out about their secret relationship, and told his son to go kill Juliette. Roma knew that he couldn’t kill his girlfriend, so he proposed to blow up the servant’s house instead. It’s also worth noting that the two of them were 15 years old at the time. And I don’t care about the gang BS… it’s a fucked up thing to do to ask a 15 year old to go murder his girlfriend because she’s red and you’re white. 

Juliette is like “well, now that we’ve cleared that up, we’ve got too much drama going on to dig up old wounds. Let’s go solve this mystery.” Which is honestly kind of my thoughts on it. Like the author might have set out to write Chinese Romeo and Juliet, but the only interesting thing she’s bringing to the table is the mystery aspect of this story. 

Chapter 31

“With what do they take issue?” Tyler sneered. “How dare they revolt against those who give them safety!” 

“They do not view it as such,” Andong replied. “The workers who are not dying from the madness are dying from starvation. They’re lining up en masse for that stupid vaccine, and instead of blaming this blasted Larkspur for overcharging, they worship him for the safety of his magical vials and blame the Scarlet factories for not paying enough to let them have both the vaccine and food.” 

Tyler straight up with zero hesitation admitted that he’s a shitty leader. He might as well have said “let them eat cake”. 

And then he wonders why it is that Juliette is the heir and not himself. 

“Cansun said he witnessed Miss Juliette in White Flower territory. He said he saw her…” Andong trailed off. 

“Spit it out,” Tyler snapped. 

“He saw her with Roma Montagov.”

How do you say “snitches get stitches” in Chinese? 

Tyler had seen them. He could not hear their conversation, but he had seen them—working together, reaching out for each other. “Tā mā de, Juliette,” he muttered. “Traitor.”

Chapter 31 summary: The chapter opens with… what I can only describe to you as Tyler being a shitty person. Somebody reports to him that a worker strike resulted in the foreman being found with a meat cleaver in his skull. And… well. You read what Tyler said earlier. He legit doesn’t understand why people are so worked up. The guy also reports that Juliette and Roma were seen together in White Flower territory. 

Juliette and Roma go to the Larkspur address Archibald had given them the day before. They try to get info, but then Larkspur tries to shoot them. He tells them that Zhang is trying to turn himself into the monster. Which… okay. Sure. Why not? And that it’s Zhang who is giving Larkspur information on how to cure it. 

Naturally, the entire thing doesn’t sit right with either of them. Why would you turn yourself into a monster to cause the insanity and then immediately turn around and sell the answers to a guy who’s going to cure the insanity? 

As they leave the building, they come upon a group of protestors who are screaming “down with the gangsters!” Roma worries that they’re too close to the hospital where Alisa is, and they might storm inside and kill everybody in there. (Which seems weird to randomly kill a little girl who is comatose, but whatever.) 

Juliette says that they have to kill Zhang right now. And that they can’t gather their forces. She asks that Roma leave and only gather those he can trust. 

Also, Tyler saw this last part. So I’m sure that the entire thing will go sideways and people are going to get hurt simply because of two groups being shitty towards one another. 

#These Violent Delights series #These Violent Delights (TVD 1) #Chapter 30 #Juliette Cai #Kathleen Cai #Roma Montagov #Marshal Seo #Tyler Cai #if they have no bread let them eat cake #snitches get stitches

[thighs-of-betrayal-blog]

I Had It Under Control

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger! reader (based on TFAWS)

Summary: After almost dying during a fight against the Flag Smashers, you wake up to an angry Bucky and a fight ensues. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, violence, cursing

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on my first fic! I really appreciate it!! For this one, I decided to incorporate a little angst. I hope you like it! :)

You wince as your back slams into the ground. The Flag Smasher that just knocked you down, turns away from you and heads toward Walker. With only a few seconds to get off the ground and collect yourself, you scan your surroundings. Bucky is to your right, dodging two Flag Smashers with knives, while Sam is to your left, landing punches here and there. You were losing this fight. It was the four of you against seven super soldiers. 

“Shit. This isn’t good looking.” You whisper to yourself. 

“It would be nice if you stopped talking to yourself and helped out a little, Y/N” Sam says into your earpiece. 

“I just got knocked down, thank you very much. Couldn’t really fight when I’m laying on the ground, trying to catch my breath” you say back. 

“You got hurt, doll?” Bucky asks worriedly. 

Sam laughs. “Mr. Knight and Shining Armor always worrying about if Y/N is hurt or not. Where was your concern when I got shot in the leg last week, huh?”

I could feel Bucky rolling his eyes from where he was standing a few feet away. “You walked it off. You were fine.”

“No, no, I didn’t walk it off, tin man. I couldn’t walk because I was shot in the leg and where were you…” 

You interrupt Sam before he can continue, “Alright, we get the picture. Let’s stay civil here. We already have enough around us to fight. Don’t need to start fighting each other too.” 

Right after you speak, you are surrounded by two super soldiers and instantly get into a fighting stance, already pulling the knife out of your leg holster. 

“Looks like we fancy the same type of weapon, boys,” you speak while gesturing towards your knife. “Unfortunately for you, I fight better with it.” 

You dodge the super soldier on your right, throwing your knife into his leg, and quickly grab your second knife from its holster, throwing it into the side of the super soldier to your left. Before either can react, you pull the knives out of both soldiers, sending them to the ground in pain. 

You step back and wipe the knives onto your clothes, cleaning the blood off them. 

“You know, fellas, it’s a shame it had to come to this. I was open to talking it through.” 

You turn to look towards Sam. “Now, who did you say needed to help out a little, birdman?” 

Sam’s reply is like a distant memory as you suddenly feel a tremendous pain in your stomach. You look down and see blood pouring out of you. Your hand instinctively moves to cover the bullet wound.

“And, unfortunately for you, sweetheart, I have a gun” says one of the super soldiers you stabbed. You turn to see him lying on the ground still, but this time with a gun in his hand, looking at you with a smirk on his face. 

Your legs give out beneath you, but before you can hit the ground, Bucky is there, holding you up. “I’ve got you, doll. I’ve got you.” He looks at you with nothing but terror in his eyes. 

“Sam!” Bucky yells. “I’ve gotta get them out of here.”

Sam comes running up to your other side. “Shit” he says. “Go, Walker and I will cover you.”

Bucky doesn’t waste another second, as he picks you up and starts running towards the nearest building. 

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

Once inside, he places you on your back, on a table in the middle of the room. 

“Bucky” you whisper. Your vision was starting to blur. You were losing too much blood. 

Bucky doesn’t hear you, as he is frantically ripping off your shirt and tying it around the bullet wound, trying to stop you from bleeding out. 

You lazily reach your hand up to grab his wrist. “Bucky” you say a little louder. 

Bucky whips his head to look at you. 

You reach your hand up to touch his cheek. “Bucky, I have something I want to tell you.”

“You can tell me after we get you stitched up.”

You start to talk a little louder. “No, Bucky, no, I need to tell you now. In case I don’t make it.”

“Stop that!” Bucky yells. “You’re going to make it. You’re going to be fine. Don’t say shit like that, doll. Just don’t.” Tears start to fall down his cheeks. “We are going to get you all fixed up. Just sit tight.” 

You start to cry. You reach your hand back down to grab his hand. “I love you, Buck. I love you so much. And, I have for so long. I just want you to know that. It’s important that you do.”

Bucky starts to cry harder. He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t hear anything he says. 

The darkness in the corner of your vision starts creeping in and after a couple seconds, you fall asleep. 

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

You slowly open your eyes and see white all around you. You hear a faint beeping sound to your left. Your body aches everywhere, especially your stomach. You feel a slight squeeze to your right hand and turn your head to see Bucky sitting in a chair next to you, with his hand holding yours and his head down. 

“Buck” you attempt to say, but your voice is so scratchy it doesn’t sound like anything. 

Bucky’s head immediately lifts up and he springs to his feet. 

“You’re awake. Oh my god, doll, I thought... Let me go get a doctor.” 

You shake your head slowly. “No”, you manage to get out. “Stay please. I just need some water.” 

Bucky nods. “Water, right, okay.” He hands you a cup of water. “Here you go, love.”

The water burns down your throat and you start to cough. 

Bucky instantly grabs your hand again. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I’m okay. Just burns a little.” You look him in the eyes. “What?” you ask him as he looks at you with a strange look. 

Bucky’s mood immediately changes. “I should be asking you that. What were you doing turning your back to the enemy?” he asks angrily. 

You scoff. “We are really going to have this conversation right now?”

“Yeah, we are. What the hell were you thinking? You can’t be doing that. You could have died!”

“But, I didn’t. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Bucky slams his hands down on the bed and stands up. “But, you almost did!” he yells. “You almost fucking died because you wanted to make some stupid comment to Sam, like a dumbass!” 

“Me? A dumbass? I had it under control. I had both of those men on the ground, while you were still busy trying to dodge the fucking knives being thrown at you! Some super soldier you are, huh?”

“Under control? You call getting shot ‘under control’?” Bucky screams at you. 

You look back at him incredulously. “What the hell is your problem?” 

He throws his hands towards you. “You! You’re my fucking problem. Damnit, you could have died! And, then what? Do you even care? I could have fucking lost you.” He starts to break down and cry. You look into his eyes, as tears run down his face. “I almost lost you and I love you too much to lose you! And, of course, you finally said you love me and I didn’t even get a chance to say it back. I was so scared.” He sits down next to the bed and places his hand on your face. ���I was so scared. I’ve lost everyone. I can’t lose you, Y/N.” 

Tears run down your face. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, Buck. I’m so sorry I scared you. But, I meant it when I said I love you. I love you so much. I’m here as long as you’ll want me.”

Bucky smiles. “Then you’re stuck with me forever, doll, because I’ll always want you. Just please don’t do something like that ever again.”

You smile and lean up to kiss him. Right as your lips connect, the door opens. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What did I just walk into? I guess Tinman finally admitted his feelings, Y/N?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and moves back to sit in the chair. 

You laugh and look at Sam. “Cut him some slack, Sam. He’s had a long day.”

Sam walks over to your bed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better. Just sore.”

Sam grins. “Bucky’s lips make it all better?” 

Bucky turns to Sam. “Hey now, don’t start.” 

“Oh, yeah? And, what are you going to do, old man?”

You watch as Bucky and Sam bicker with each other and smile to yourself. 

Sam interrupts your moment of thought. “But seriously, please tell me you guys aren’t going to be making out every time I turn my back.” 

You and Bucky look at each other and laugh. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to be quiet” you say. 

Sam groans in response and Bucky starts to laugh even harder, just as the doctor walks in.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #falcon and the winter soldier #bucky x avenger!reader #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #marvel #sebastian stan x reader #sam wilson #tfaws

[norahastuff]

penny for your thoughts on salmondean codependency ?

Sure. Fair warning it’s long (was longer but I stopped myself.)

I think it’s complicated in a show that’s had so many different showrunners because they’ve all handled Sam and Dean’s relationship very differently. In Kripke’s era (s1-5) there was a romanticization of the bond. Sure there was a lot of in-depth exploration of how they wound up at the place they were at, spoiler alert: it was all because of John and his obsessive crusade to find the demon that killed his wife. That’s all he cared about and as a result, Sam and Dean had to be everything to each other. But Kripke had no intention of dismantling that at any point because he was (and always had been) writing a tragedy. Gamble continued that too. There was no room for anyone else in their lives and it would always just be the two of them against the world. So Cas had to go. Bobby had to go.

(Actually, it's funny because Gamble didn't intend this at the time, her plan was to kill Cas off, but by Edlund creating the masterpiece that is The Man Who Would Be King, he not only saved Cas from being seen as a villain, but he also deepened Dean and Cas' relationship in such a profound way and inextricably linked the two of them emotionally. And since Cas was eventually brought back, that laid the foundation for a lot of what their relationship would become.)

Up until this point, there hadn’t really been any significant dismantling of perhaps the more unhealthy parts of Sam and Dean’s relationship. Enter Carver. He stripped things down and started to explore what drove these characters. What they wanted and why they couldn’t have it. It starts with Dean being mad at Sam for not looking for him in purgatory, which sets up the whole speech in the s8 finale of Sam’s guilt about letting Dean down, but the thing is, Dean was never honest with Sam about his year away either. He never told Sam he could have gotten out much sooner if he hadn’t stayed to find Cas. I mean Dean had assumed Sam was up there alone doing God knows what to try to bring him back, and yet still he stayed in Purgatory because things were clear there. He needed Cas. Anyway, I just find that interesting, but Cas isn’t a victim of Sam and Dean’s relationship in s8.

Who gets the honour of being cast aside? That would be Benny and Amelia, two characters they introduced in s8 specifically to highlight that Sam and Dean’s relationship doesn’t allow for anyone else to be a significant part of their life. I mean that’s nothing new, we’ve watched that happen many times before. Lisa even said as much to Dean. The thing is this time? It’s framed as a truly sad thing. That moment at the end of 8x10 when Dean has just ended things with Benny and Sam leaves Amelia, and they’re sitting alone drinking beer and watching tv is such a hollow empty moment. This is not what they want. But it’s the way things have to be.

I’m actually fascinated by Sam and Dean’s conversation in the church in the s8 finale. Not so much Dean’s assertion that there is no one else he would put before Sam, but more so what provokes it, which is Sam saying “who are you going to turn to instead of me. Another angel? Another vampire?” See the thing is Dean saying he would always put Sam first is not news. We know this and it’s not really an unhealthy statement in itself either. A lot of people would put their sibling above anything else, not less a sibling who you raised and is the most important person to you. But in this context? After what Sam said? It just highlights how unhealthy they are if Sam believes that Dean having other people in his life means he doesn’t love him enough. That he’s a disappointment to him. That’s so profoundly fucked up.

(Note, Dean tells Sam that he killed Benny for him but he doesn’t say anything about Cas. I think like I said before, this is because Cas and Dean’s relationship has largely existed out of the Sam and Dean stuff up to this point - Sam and Cas don’t even really have much of a relationship yet besides both of their connections to Dean.)

And then from here, things start getting steadily worse. But we also keep being shown how bad they are. Dean lying to Sam, taking away his free will by letting Gadreel possess him. Dean sending Cas away, Kevin dying. It’s all awful. The whole “there ain’t no me if there ain’t no you line” from 9x01 isn’t really said by Dean, it’s Gadreel, but that is how Dean feels. He does think that’s all he’s good for. And over the season we’re shown how much of himself and what he truly wants he’s had to give up because of his ingrained “Save Sammy” and “Sammy comes first” mentality. It’s always been this way for him. In 9x07 we see that he had found a happy home, a good father figure, and his first love, a first love might I add that he had to leave behind with no real explanation because Sam needed him, and Sam comes first.

I mean just one episode earlier we had him rushing out the door elated about seeing Cas and spending time with him, only for their time together to come to sad and melancholic end when Dean once again leaves Cas behind without any real explanation, because despite what he wants Sammy comes first. What he wants doesn’t matter.

See I think after the Gadreel stuff comes out is where the narrative starts to get a little wonky for me. You can clearly see that this was intended to be a shorter story that they ended up stretching out to a much longer one because of renewals. There’s also the fact that this is a formula show so they can’t necessarily be separated for longer than an episode or two. S10 is a rough one to get through at times, I think the themes still mostly hold up but it’s a rough one to get through.

S10 highlights all the connections that Dean has, Cas, Charlie, Crowley even, but Sam doesn’t really have those bonds in the same way.  For Sam it’s just Dean, so he goes down a reckless destructive “do anything to save Dean!” path and so many innocents pay the price, and ultimately with the release of The Darkness, the whole world.

They skirted right up to the edge of exploring just how toxic and dangerous their relationship had become in the season 10 finale.

DEAN: I let Rudy die. How was that not evil? I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you drove that man to sell his soul... Or when you bullied Charlie into getting herself killed? And to what end? A..a good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the Darkness into the world.

I can’t say evil is the right word, they were never evil, but they were wilfully blind to everything and everyone else when it came to saving each other. S10 tested my love for the show because after watching it, because there was certainly a feeling that the two of them had become the villains of this story. And don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have a problem with that, it’s just after 2 seasons of this I can’t say I had a lot of faith that this was going to be properly addressed or if we were going to keep going in circles around it. Keep being shown, it’s bad and then nothing much being done to fix it. Your mileage may vary on how it was handled, but I think s11 did a relatively ok job considering it wasn’t the end of the story, and the show needed to keep going.

See from Dean’s side a lot of the codependency rests on 1. His father’s orders to always save Sammy 2. His low self-esteem where he sees himself as nothing but a blunt instrument. 3. His guilt at not being able to perfectly fulfil every familial role in Sam’s life 4. His belief that no one could choose to love him but family has to love you. 5. The unhealthy example of what it should look like to love someone that he got from John. You give up everything but them.

For Sam (and honestly it’s not as clear for me as Dean’s side is so feel free to correct me/disagree on this) 1. Everytime he’s tried to leave and create his own life it’s never ended well. 2. His guilt over wanting freedom and a normal life when he was younger (I’m referring specifically to Stanford era here) 3. His guilt over everything Dean has given up for him. 4. John. 5. Jess.

Ultimately it all comes down to isolation. They both had to be everything to each other, and the deeper they got into this fight, the more people that they lost, the tighter they clung to this notion of family and brothers. I think s11 (and 11x23 in particular) was an important turning point, both for Sam and Dean’s relationship, as well as for them as individuals. Because they weren’t alone there anymore. Cas was there. Sam let Dean walk to his death. Of course, it would devastate him, but he knew it was what had to be done. And he didn’t walk out of that bar and go back to the bunker alone. He had Cas, he had someone who cared about him and wanted to help him and talk to him. Sure Dean asked Cas to take care of Sam for him (you know after Cas offered to walk to his death with him) but Sam let him. He let him be there for him. We didn’t get to see much before the BMOL showed up and blasted Cas away, but still, we saw enough.

I think that’s a significant difference to note why their relationship was different in the Dabb era. It wasn’t just them anymore. Cas was an important member of their family and given a level of importance he’d never been given before and couldn’t have been when the story they were telling was of the dangers of their codependency. Mary was back. Eventually, Jack would become a part of their unit too. Just the two of them wasn’t enough for them anymore. This is made abundantly clear with all of Dean’s desperate attempts to get Cas to stay in s12, followed by his inability to keep going when they lose Cas and Mary in s13. Similarly, Sam really struggles when they lose Jack and fail to get Mary back later in the season.

Another big moment is Dean letting Sam go alone to lead the hunters against the BMOL in 12x22 while he stays back to try and reach Mary. Like he tells Mary, he’s had to be a brother, a father and a mother to Sam and he never stopped seeing him as his kid, but in that moment he makes a choice. He lets Sam take charge and he shows that he trusts him and believes in him. He knows he can handle it.

Sometimes it’s not even a character growth thing. Sometimes having other people there stops you from making destructive choices even though that’s still your first instinct. I’m thinking specifically of 13x21 after Sam was killed. Dean would have run headlong into that nest of vampires and got himself torn apart, but Cas was there to stop him. He was able to make him see reason.

Basically, I think that for a long time, they thought the only relationship they could have was each other, which then became a self-fulfilling prophecy because their desperate attempts to keep each other around led to them losing the people around them. They eventually started to learn that that wasn’t true, they could have more, they were allowed to want more, and that it wasn’t an either-or situation. Dean didn’t have to choose between Sam and Cas. They didn’t have to choose between each other or Jack. The same goes for Mary. Different relationships can coexist without threatening each other, and not say that their relationship in s12-15 was all smooth sailing, but it was certainly so very different from everything that came before.

(There’s maybe a point to be made about how they didn’t have anyone or anything in the finale and how that relates to the story we got, but honestly I have no idea what the intention was with any of the choices made in that episode so I’ll leave it at that for now.)

#asks #winchester brothers #my spn thoughts #long post for ts #Anonymous #spn meta

[sidespromptblog]

Orange Eyed Delight

Summary: Virgil finds out about Logan's orange eyes.

Warnings: Minor blood and injury, hurt/comfort, negative self-talk (From Logan), and anxiousness (Virgil). 

Word Count: 2,318

AO3 LINK

The first time that Virgil saw it, it was an accident. 

He’d been sitting on the counter when it had happened, with Logan in the kitchen washing the dishes from the morning after Roman and Patton had just left. The steam rising from the hot water pouring into the sink had made Logan’s glasses foggy, until the logical side had eventually just decided to set them on the counter next to all of the clean dishes he had already finished. His was flipped over his shoulder, so that it wouldn’t dip into the water. And the long sleeves of the other’s shirt had been pushed up over his elbows, the occasional splatter of water made a dark stain on his black shirt. The noises of the dishes clanking together in the soapy water, and Logan’s small soft mumbles was a comfortable background noise to Virgil where he could just be on his phone in a comfortable silence with the other side. 

Logan seemed to get it, as he didn’t bother trying to engage in conversation with Virgil. 

It was their usual routine, a comfortable routine. 

Then there was a crash, and a loud splash of water shortly followed by a surprised sound from Logan. 

In an instant Virgil’s attention snapped up from his phone, and to the other side who was cradling his hand close to his chest in a wounded fashion. 

“Logan?!” Virgil jumped from the counter, quickly rushing over to the logical side. “What happened?” 

A short growl fell from Logan’s clenched teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut, a look of pain molded on every crease of his face. “My mug..” Logan managed to get out, before gesturing with his elbow to the pile of broken ceramic in the bottom of the sink. “It broke.” 

Virgil looked down first into the sink to all the shards that remained to be a dangerous hazard to anyone that touched them, and then at Logan’s hand. The heated red skin of the other’s palm had a long thin cut across it, with blood already starting to pool out of it. Similar smaller cuts peppered all over his fingers, as if Logan had attempted to pick up the shards that laid in the hot water purely out of instinct before realizing what he was doing. 

It was a painful looking cut, Virgil could give it that. 

“Shit L, fuck...” Virgil muttered, quickly pulling the logical side away from the sink and towards the kitchen to sit down. “Shit, I’ll be right back.” He said in a way that was clearly telling the other side not to move, or else. Just from the look on Virgil’s face, he could tell that the other side wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, Logan wasn’t stupid after all. 

Barely even glancing at Logan, Virgil was off. Rushing into the bathroom, he blindly scavenged for the first aid kit that was always in the bathroom per his own request. He had always made sure that every bathroom, even the ones in their own room had first aid kits in them. He had told the others over and over again that should something bad happen he needed to know that there was a first aid kit in there, they hadn’t had a chance yet to put one in the kitchen. The one place that statistically, most accidents happened in a home. Stupid.. Stupid. That should have been the first place that he had put one, that way he could have just grabbed it and helped Logan right then and there instead of just leaving him where.. Where…

There had been a lot of blood in Logan’s hand, and it was still bleeding. 

What if he bled out while Virgil was taking his time here?

“Come on… come on…” Virgil snarled to himself, digging through the messy underside of the sink cabinet even more frantically. “He’s not dying, he’s not. It’s just a cut, a cut that just needs to be sanitized and bandaged. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s…” Virgil seized the handle of the kit the moment he caught sight of it. “Gotcha!” 

Scrambling out of the bathroom, Virgil ran like a bat out of hell to get back to Logan.

By the time that he got to the logical side, Logan had unclenched his entire body as he stared down at his bleeding hand. His jaw was fixed firmly and his eyebrows furrowed, and from where he stood Virgil could practically feel the anger radiating from him like the heat from hot boiling water. Logan’s breathing was a practiced calmness, the way that it strategically rose and fell told Virgil that the other side was trying with everything he had to keep his temper under control. 

“I got the first aid kit Lo,” Slowly moving forward he knelt in front of the logical side, before unpacking everything inside. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?”  

For a moment there wasn’t an answer, and Virgil mostly figured that Logan was just keeping quiet due to the pain he must’ve been feeling. 

And then Logan sniffed, making Virgil look up from sanitizing the long cut that ran along his palm. “It was my favorite cup… and now it's broken.”  An unreadable look passed over Logan’s face, and his fingers curled just barely brushing against Virgil’s as he passed the alcohol wipe over his hand once more. “I’m sorry…”  

Virgil hastily looked up towards Logan’s eyes, alarm squeezing his chest. “Sorry? Sorry for wha-” 

Before he even realized it, the words died on his tongue and a whole new feeling flooded through him. His lungs seized in that moment not allowing him to take a single breath, and his heart thudded against his ribcage like a terrified bird trying to get out. It took conscious effort for him to let his mouth hang open, or for him to not jerk his entire body away from the logical side like he had just been struck. 

The last little remnants of orange were fading from Logan’s eyes, the hellish orange fading into the sad warm brown color that Virgil knew so well.

What was happening? Was Logan being taken over? Was he turning into a dark side? Was he… was he splitting in half like Roman and Remus? Was he okay? Was he even Logan anymore? Was he hurt even more on the inside than he was on the outside?

A million thoughts and questions ran through his head, all of them coming to a shrieking halt as soon as he managed to force himself look back at Logan. A feeling of hurt shot through him at the inner betrayal he had felt towards Logan, especially considering that Logan’s eyes looked normal now… as if nothing had even happened.

Unburdened by Virgil’s inner treacherous thoughts Logan merely shrugged, obviously not noticing Virgil's insane reaction, or perhaps just not knowing the shade of color that his eyes had just been. “Sorry for inconveniencing you, I should have been more careful so that it wouldn’t have broken in the first place.” Logan looked away, as Virgil’s body finally began to relax. “And now here I am, a new injury and I made you worry and fret over nothing...I should have been more observant of what I was doing.”

Logan… thought that his reaction was from the broken cup?

And then Logan carried on. 

“I know that I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Logan explained, as Virgil slowly began wrapping his injured hand up in a layer of gauze. “Setting too high of expectations, and expecting any of them to go through. “I keep burdening all of you with my wants and wishes, and… getting a little upset when something else happens.” Something else flashed across Logan’s face, so quick that Virgil would have missed it had he not been looking for it. “I should know this all by now, what.. what’s going to happen when I just plan things... ” Logan waved his non-injured hand, gesturing to nothing. 

Virgil couldn’t help but to feel just a little bit sad over the resignation in Logan’s voice, surely… surely he wasn’t thinking about giving up on the whole schedule thing. Logan had worked hard on that, he’d worked countless nights to make it so that Thomas have even the slightest bit of possibility of getting it done. He had completely written out things that he would have liked Thomas to do, he had.. he had gotten rid of that astrology class that Thomas had promised him that he’d take. 

And yet… even after that he hadn’t been listened to, and…

Oh.

Oh...      

“Logan.” Virgil began cautiously, “Are you… angry with us?” 

There was a beat of silence, where Logan chewed on his bottom lip before looking away from the anxious side. His silence was the only answer that Virgil needed.

There it was, plain and bold for even him to see. 

It should have been obvious to him from the start, he was literally anxiety. He picked up on even the slightest hints if someone was angry with Thomas, he had even picked up Patton’s emotions as much as the moral side tried to hide them with his cheery happiness. And somehow he hadn’t managed to see Logan’s anger, hiding and being pushed down day by day by even the slightest things that they did. How often had they said something that made him angry at them? How often did he not know just what he was feeling towards them was anger? 

They had scorned him in such a way just for throwing a paper ball at Roman. 

This.. this kind of explained everything. 

“God I’m so stupid.” Virgil muttered, heavily sitting back with an exhausting exhale.  

Logan's head snapped back, a look of shock and mismatched emotions coloring his face. “No-”

Before he could even get another word out, Virgil shook his head, swatting the side of Logan’s leg. 

“Stooop!” Virgil groaned out, slapping his hand over his face. “I am! I am so stupid for not noticing. Of fucking course you’re angry at us Logan! You should be!” 

A pause and then: 

“What..?”

Peeking through his fingers Virgil saw Logan looking at him as if he was well and truly on his way to becoming insane, Virgil should have felt a little insulted from the look that he was receiving. But instead, he felt like he deserved it, if only for the reason that he was insane for having been so blind when it came to making sure Logan was okay. He had known that Logan needed help with his emotions, both in realizing that he was allowed to feel them, and just when they would be necessary. Of course, with all of their “help” Logan must’ve figured that any emotion that wasn’t positive should be shunned within himself and pushed down until he was convinced that it didn’t exist. 

He had been told he was allowed to be sad by Patton, but anger… 

They had never once allowed him to be angry. 

In some way, Virgil felt as if he had betrayed Logan. 

The glint of those bright orange eyes unconsciously reminded him of the other dark sides, how Janus’ one snake eye glowed a bright yellow, and how Remus’ eyes occasionally took on a toxic green color when he was up to no good. The orange couldn’t mean anything good, or even worse… if Logan thought that he no longer belonged amongst himself, Patton, and Roman. Then.. then what else was there? If Janus found out that they had basically chased Logan off, so that he was seeking solace with them… 

He’d never hear the end of it from him, a reverse Virgil he would call it. Virgil could just imagine it now…

But if that was what Logan would want… then who was Virgil to stop him? That would be hypocritical of him to even try, especially since it's common knowledge that he used to be one of them too.  He could at least try to make things better if Logan did try to leave, that way it wouldn’t just be out of the blue. This way at least he and Logan would still be alright, he could still protect Logan in this one way even if he did leave. 

Virgil knew that he’d have to force himself to not feel betrayed if Logan did leave. 

They’d done this to themselves after all. 

Nevertheless, he finally stood up and straightened his back.  After a long moment of consideration he finally looked into Logan’s eyes. “Logan.” He firmly said, “Logan, look at me.” The moment that the logical side finally did, Virgil nodded. “Anger isn’t anything bad,” He began, only shooting him a look when it seemed like Logan was going to interrupt. “It’s your brain’s way of trying to tell you that you deserve better, and that the way that someone is treating you is wrong. It's a self defense measure, and you’ve been ignoring it and letting us walk all over you. For years Logan.” 

Logan was silent, his brown eyes trained on Virgil’s face. He was finally listening, intensively. 

“Listen to it, if we don’t listen to you… listen to it.” Virgil got closer, gripping Logan’s shoulders as he did. “If we ignore and don’t listen to you when we should be… be angry. Let us know so that we will listen. Do whatever you have to, I won’t be angry. Because I’ll know that we deserved it, and we had it coming.” Virgil gave him the tiniest shake possible. “Raise hell.” 

The second time that Virgil sees the orange eyes, he supposes that it's no longer an accident. 

The uncertain look on Logan’s face slowly morphed into something else, as a burning look of determination and certainty finally sparked inside of him. 

Bright angry orange bled into the calm brown, completely overtaking it. 

“Okay.”

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts virgil sanders #platonic analogical #ts sides #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #orange logan #possible dark side logan #sympathetic virgil

[arlert-angel]

love fast, die young ☪

♡ jean x fem!reader

❥ you know that at any moment your life could be cut short as a scout, and the last thing you want is to die a virgin, so why not ask your best friend that you’re in love with for some help?

❥ wc: 5.8k

❥ cw: near death experience (reader), virgin!reader and virigin!jean, cannonverse but no plot, loss of virginity, slight size kink, cream pie, aftercare, fluff

❥ note: i was invested in the story of this one lol, it's a lot more romantic than i initially intended. they’re aged up, but the cannonverse details don’t make sense for the plot, so let’s pretend it does yay.

Arriving back from expeditions was always an exhausting feat within itself, sometimes more so than the actual expedition. 

Commanding officers had to count their losses, healers had to tend to the wounded, and everyone who was good enough to stand had to report their kills and assists. Of course that was the immediate tasks that needed to take place, but then came the grief. Friends looked for one another, many people cried, and names could be heard shouted all around as everyone arrived at headquarters. 

You weren't that different, but you were silent as you scanned the crowd looking for your tall best friend. You knew he was with the best of the best in Levi's squad, so you weren't too worried. However, you also knew the previous best had been wiped out before the new group came. 

Anything could happen which made you all the more anxious. 

You and Jean were not on the same squad. You first were offered a position on the Levi squad with the rest of your friends, but then Hange handed picked you to help them with their experiments, claiming they needed your mind to work with them. Hange is very likeable and now one of your closest friends, and at the time it seemed impossible to say no to them.

Hange's and Levi's squad tended to work together a lot and definitely trained together, so you didn't miss your friends too much. It was only when expeditions approached and new formations were made, when you had to be separated from the rest of your 104th pals. 

You never complained about the separation. It wouldn't last forever, maybe a couple days at most, and then you return to laughing and working with the rest of your friends. You had no complaints until this particular expedition.

You had a close call.

In fact, so close, you might as well have kissed Death on the lips while you were so close to the afterlife. 

The mission was going according to plan. It was a simple scouting mission in the mountains that were, for the most part, titan free. Your squad was on the left flank of the formation, near the edge of the mountains. The cliff sides surrounding you guys held a beautiful, yet slightly scary view. The drop had to be at least 300 feet.

You should've known something bad was going to happen as soon as Hange called out, "Hey, Y/N, check it out!" But you weren't thinking that hard, for the day had been so peaceful. 

The path you all had taken was so close to the cliffs that the squad was riding single file for safety. There was enough room to pass one another, but you had to do so very carefully. 

You rode ahead, passing Moblit. You sent him a questioning look as went by, but he only shrugged, not knowing what Hange was raving over. When you slid off your horse and next to Hange you saw what they did.

A very large cave.

"Should we go inside?" Hange looked at you, clearly excited, but it was an awful idea.

"No!" You tried to sound stern, knowing how they needed a firm rejection or they'd always get what they wanted, "Do you see the size of the thing? This looks like a comfy home for a 10 meter titan, maybe even 15 meter class if they hunched over."

"Do you think they'd crawl around in there?!" Their eyes widened and the familiar look that you've seen so many times on their face appeared. It was their usual expression they had when you conducted experiments with them. You swore to yourself how you fed their curiosity on accident.

"What's going on?" Moblit now arrived, wondering what the hold up was about.

"They want to go inside that death trap," You pointed at the ominous cavern in front of you all. 

"You cannot be serious!" Moblit exclaimed in surprise, the volume echoing down the stone and dirt walls. Moblit continued his rant, stating the obvious, but you tuned their debate out. You just stared into what looked like an abyss. 

There was no movement, no noise, not even the breeze seemed to reach here.

But for some reason you had a gut feeling. A gut feeling that saved all of your lives.

"Move!" You shoved Hange into Moblit which effectively knocked them both to the side of the cave and used your ODM gear to swing yourself to the opposite side. 

The large hand reached out as you tried to get out of the way, but because you helped the others you weren't quick enough.

Luckily, the titan's grasp only managed to get tangled in your ODM wire and couldn’t quite reach your actual body. 

Unluckily, the titan was managing to drag you like a ragdoll and if you didn't do anything quickly you would be engulfed in the darkness where it was hidden, and then probably engulfed in it’s stomach. 

You had to think quick on your feet and so you drew your blades and slashed the wire on your gear all together. You could've attempted to slash at it's hands, but that was no guarantee. The wire was sliced with a clean snip.

Now you were free, you stumbled back at the loss of momentum. You took one two many steps back, and that last step didn't hit the gravely earth that the others had. 

Your foot didn't hit anything at all. 

You were about to fall off a cliff. 

Ironic to escape death one way only to quite literally fall into its clutches another way. 

But, you didn't fall. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut in absolute terror, and when you opened them at the lack of free fall, you saw Hange.

They had managed to save you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back on solid ground. Moblit had been keeping the titan at bay, and continued to do so as you and everyone else turned their horses carefully around. 

Thanks were shared by yourself, Hange, and Moblit at the different lucky saves. They praised your quick thinking and response. None of you actually saw the titan coming. You just knew. You seemed to recognize the familiar feeling of dread from the presence of a titan that wanted to eat you. Even if you couldn’t see it. 

Hange continuously apologized on the way back, but it wasn’t really their fault. It’s not like you actually entered the cave like they wanted. And it was probably a good thing you guys stopped when you did. If the group rode past the cave something worse might have happened.  

After that close call you wanted nothing more to find your best friend and have his familiar comfort.

"Y/N? Whatcha still doing out here?" You spun around quickly and saw Connie. 

“Oh, hey! I’m just looking for Jean, have you seen him?” You didn’t want to panic, but it was weird to see Connie without Jean. 

“Yeah! Mikasa killed this titan that had snuck up right above us and it’s blood got all over Jean it was so funny he screamed like a girl. But yeah, he went to the showers immediately,” Connie explained laughing at the memory. You laughed along and wished you could see it yourself.

“That’s funny, I should probably shower too, this mission felt particularly long,” You grumbled more to yourself than Connie, but he picked up on your off tone.

“Did something happen?” He asked genuinely concerned. You might’ve been closest to Jean, but Connie and Sasha were also very close to you. The four you always had the most fun together, and got in the most trouble. 

“Kind of, a titan snuck up on us too, but we were near the cliffs so there wasn’t all lot of room to work with. I almost fell, but on the bright side I overcame my fear of heights,” You laughed, but it was more anxious than joyful.

“Oh shit, that’s awful!” Connie’s eyes widened in horror, “I'll tell Jean to come find you when I see him.”

“What why?”

“You were looking for him right? He’d definitely want to know that you’re okay after that. He worries a lot, you know? It’s always: I hope Y/N okay, where’s Hange’s squad again, I wish Y/N was here, Y/N would love this view. Someone has to tell him to shut up at least once every expedition.” Connie actually did an okay Jean impression as he ranted to you, but you didn’t comment on it. 

You were too surprised. You didn’t know Jean worried about you. He never once came to you with any fears about expeditions. He always asked you what happened, but that’s just a normal conversation. It wasn’t too strange for someone’s best friend to think about them when apart. What was strange was the happy feeling you got knowing that Jean couldn’t shut up about you. A weird fluttery feeling danced in your stomach and you felt almost giddy.  

Connie noticed your lack of response and noticeably paled. 

“Fuck, wait, I didn’t tell you that! Jean’s gonna kill me, Y/N please don’t tell him I told you!” He grabbed onto you, begging. He shook you enough that it got you out of your confusing thoughts.

“Um, okay? I don't see what the big deal is. I think about Jean on expeditions too, that’s not weird right?” You smiled reassuringly and Connie’s whole body sagged in relief.

“Not at all! Have a nice shower!” Connie ran away, actually ran, trying to separate himself from that conversation. He thanked the Walls that you couldn’t read between the lines. 

After that odd conversation you got a change of clothes and towel, and then headed towards the showers. You passed Sasha and Mikasa on the way in and they both gave you pleasant greetings, all parties glad to see each other alive and well.

You tried not to overthink, but the hot shower gave you all the time to do so.

Your thoughts jumped from almost dying, to Jean, to these overwhelming feelings you seemed to harbor.

You knew you loved Jean. You both even told each other sometimes. Your mind never wandered further than viewing Jean as your best friend only because you didn’t think that’s what he’d want. 

When you first met Jean you had a small crush on him, admiring him from afar until Marco introduced the two of you. Once you grew closer and noticed his infatuation with Mikasa your feelings sizzled out in a bitter simmer. Your bitterness didn’t last long though, you were happy you had someone to rely on no matter what. After Marco passed, Jean was your crutch and vise versa. Romance would only make things confusing and besides you didn’t have any experience in the matter. 

But now as you think more and more about him you wondered if those feelings ever went away. You thought about his laugh and stupid tone he gets when he tries to act cocky. You thought about his eyes and how pretty they look in the sunlight. You thought about his ability to read your mind without you having to tell him something’s wrong. He was your person. 

You came to the conclusion that there definitely was something more than platonic there, but there was no certainty he felt the same. He would’ve said something by now. When he liked Mikasa he was so obvious, openly talking about her to everyone. You would’ve known something by now if it were the case, right? You knew he didn’t like Mikasa now, he told you explicitly for some reason, stating you needed to know. He also didn’t talk about liking anybody new. 

Sighing in frustration, you turned off the shower, now squeaky clean. What was supposed to be a relaxing shower just stressed you out because of your stupid brain’s overthinking. 

And it didn’t stop. As you dropped your messy uniform in the laundry, it reminded you of the day.   

Today proved that any moment could be your last. Being in the scouts has always been dangerous, and you knew you were a disposable soldier. You didn’t mind it much, but now you realized how little you had experienced. You had never been drunk, your only kiss was with Marco in a game of truth or dare, and you were a virgin. 

You didn’t want to die a virgin.

You thought of Jean. You wanted to be with him at least once before you died. You didn’t want to die without knowing how it felt to have everything with Jean. Your love for him definitely wasn’t platonic. You didn’t want to die without him knowing.

Your mind made up, you walked the halls with a little more determination than usual. You wandered around for only a couple minutes before running into Eren.

“Horseface is looking for you,” He pointed around the corner. You gave a quick thanks before quickly going in that direction only to collide with the person you were searching for.

“Y/N!” Jean surprised you by pulling you in a tight hug. As he pulled away he took note of the blush that was now on your cheeks, but didn’t comment. He also didn’t let you go completely, leaving his hands on your shoulders. Unable to help himself.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” You smiled genuinely, only slightly nervous now. Even with the giddiness he gave you, he still managed to calm you down.

“Me too, Connie said something happened with your squad, so I asked Hange about it and they told me everything,” His eyebrows were pulled into a worried furrow, “I wish you were in our squad.”

“Me too, but I like being with Hange too,” You stated honestly, “But it’s alright, everything worked out in the end.” 

“Yeah, but you almost fell off a cliff! Y/N if I lost you I’d…” He cleared his throat before shaking himself out of his thoughts, “I’m just glad you’re okay. You said you were looking for me, what for?”

“Oh! Um…” You looked around and saw Eren eavesdropping blatantly with a knowing look, causing you to quickly turn back around, “Can I talk to you in my room about something?” You shift your weight from side to side, visibly jittery. 

“Sure?” Jean was confused and noted you looked more flustered than before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong like he usually could. 

You walked side by side, passing Eren along the way who gave you both a smug wave. When Jean wasn’t looking you turned around and gave him the finger. The walk was silent and your hands brushed each other softly.

Once you were behind closed doors you felt yourself relax a little more. It was just Jean, you hyped yourself up. Even if he did reject you the worst thing that could happen is him make a stupid joke out of everything, but you doubt he would. You knew he at least respected you.

“So, what’s so serious that you needed to be away from nosy Yeager?” So he did see that ass listening, you thought. 

“Well… You know about my close call today… It got me thinking,” You started safely.

“You can think? Like, there’s a brain in there?” Jean acted surprised and grabbed your head teasingly.

“Shut up,” You laughed and slapped his hands away before adding, “It’s serious.”

“Okay,” He took a seat on your bed comfortably, an action that was not unusual, you hung out in each other’s room all the time. He gave you his full attention, no longer joking around.

“I thought about how at any moment we can die, that sounds morbid, but it’s true. And then I thought about all the stuff I haven’t done and all the things I haven’t said,” You explained further, still not getting to the point. 

“So, you want to make a bucket list?” Jean tilted his head, trying to follow, “That’d be fun.”

“No,” You rolled your eyes lovingly, “I, more specifically, thought about all the stuff we haven’t done together.” 

“Oh, you want to make a bucket list together!” Jean perked up.

“Jean stop trying to guess and let me explain,” You laughed and he complied, pretending to zip his lips shut.

“Jean,” You approached the man, invading his personal space, “I don’t want to die a virgin, do you?”

“No…” Jean blushed at the sudden topic change, wondering why on earth you were bringing that up right now.

“And…  I love you, and I know you'd treat me right,” You cupped his cheeks in your hands. You were standing in between his legs now, him leaning back on his hands looking up at you. He was tall, so he didn’t have to tilt his neck that much. 

“I love you too, what are you going on about?” His face was drawn in clear confusion, a cute expression, if he wasn’t being so frustrating. 

“No, Jean,” You leaned impossibly close, your face right in front of his, “I’m in love with you.” 

Then you boldly straddled him before you planted your lips on him.

You were shy, unsure if he would reciprocate the kiss, and it seemed like he wasn’t.  You panicked instantly. Your heart was pounding and you pulled away. You were terrified you screwed everything up. You looked at him and he seemed to be frozen.

“Jean?” You worriedly looked at your catatonic friend whose eyes were wide in shock, “I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry! Please don’t hate me!” You began to try to climb off him, but his hands shot to your hips, holding you in place.

“Y/N, you’re in love with me?” He still seemed to be stunned, or maybe he didn’t believe you, but he held your gaze with serious eyes. 

“Yes,” You made sure to keep eye contact despite the heat that rose to your cheeks, to make sure he knew you were dead serious. 

“Good,” One of his hands left your hips to your cheek. He guided your mouth back to his.

He was kissing you. He was actually kissing you. It was slow and sweet at first. He stroked your cheek lovingly and your lips slowly moved in sync. It was when you repositioned yourself on his lap, accidently grinding into him, when the kisses started to become more feverish. He groaned into your mouth and the hand left your face and found it’s new home on your ass. He squeezed it harshly, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours. He surprised you when he sucked on your tongue, making a small whimper escape you. 

Jean pulled away, taking in your flustered state with blown pupils of his own. Both of your lips were swollen and you both needed to catch your breath. 

“I love you too, you know?” Jean pushed some of your hair out of your face with a soft smile, “I figured you didn’t feel the same and wanted to just be friends, so I didn’t say anything.”

“I thought the same, or that you might still like Mikasa,” You admitted shyly, looking down where your bodies met.

“Hey,” He tilted your chin so you held eye contact again, “That was a stupid crush when I was kid, and I told you that ended a long time ago, didn't I? I’m in love with you.”

“We were so stupid keeping it to ourselves,” You laughed and Jean openly admired you in what looked like awe. His gaze made you feel bashful, almost wanting to hide your face with your hands.

“We were, I could have been kissing you so much sooner,” Jean mumbled, already leaning back to you. This time when your lips met your tongues danced together immediately. You knew Jean also didn't have much experience, but with the way he kissed it seemed like he did. 

"Did you mean what you said?" Jean pulled away only for a moment to ask before returning right back to your lips. 

You pulled away, trying to decipher what he was referring to. "Wha–" Your breath hitched when you felt Jean kiss your pulse on your neck. He began sucking on a particular spot that made you moan, surprising both of you. 

"You're so beautiful," He commented then explained, "Did you mean what you said about that virgin stuff?" He seemed shy all of sudden, his hands were sliding from your hips to your thighs, almost like he was trying to soothe himself.

"I meant every word," You said honestly, "I want to experience all of you."

"God," Jean seemed to like that statement, "I don't know what I'm doing, so just know I'm learning as I go. Just tell me what you like and don't like."

"Of course," You gave him a reassuring smile, "I'm not worried, I trust you."

"Good," He said again before spinning you around and lightly throwing you on your bed. He hovered over you, not putting much, if any weight on you. He resumed the make out session, but this time letting his hands wander.

He first tugged at your shirt, which you helped him quickly pull over your head. You hadn't worn a bra, assuming your plans for this evening were eating then just passing out. 

Jean seemed to drink your body in, just staring in lust and awe. 

"You can touch me," You tried to sound reassuring, but it sounded more like a beg. 

Jean took your breasts in his large hands and just felt you. You almost laughed at how mesmerized he looked, but that was when he latched his mouth on your nipple. That action seemed to send a current of electricity straight to the heat in between your legs. You arched your back and let out a surprised moan which made Jean quickly pull away. 

"Did I hurt you?" He looked scared.

"No, it feels good," You murmured as you unconsciously rolled your hips wanting friction.

"Oh, that's good," He shot you a grin before throwing his own shirt to the side. He went back to kissing your chest, this time his hand tweaked the nipple he wasn't sucking on, causing even more pleasure. You bit your lip only letting out whimpers, a little embarrassed of moaning so loudly again. 

"J-Jean," You stuttered out, gripping his broad shoulders.

"Hmm?" He hummed, he had been having fun leaving purple marks across your tits.

"I-I need…" You didn't finish.

"What do you need, princess?" He asked genuinely, but his deep tone sent shivers down your spine.

"More, I don't know," You admitted.

"Okay, don't worry," He gave you a peck, "I'll take care of you."

He began taking off your pants, helping you get them off your ankles. He stood to take off his own pants as you admired him. His body was so toned from the life of being a soldier. As you took him all in your eyes landed on the bulge that was very prominent in his briefs and for the first time you felt nerves about having sex with him. 

"Jean, how the hell is that supposed to fit in me?" You didn't even see it out of it's cage, you couldn't imagine that monster in action. 

"It has to fit right? People have sex all the time," Jean looked down at his own dick before looking at your panties with a frown, "I'll make sure to stretch you out with my fingers to help."

"What do you mean?" You blushed as Jean returned his body on top of you, giving you warmth again. This time putting a little more weight than last time. You could feel his restrained cock against you this time. 

"You know, fingering, you've done it to yourself before right?" Jean asked curiously. 

"I've tried, but I couldn't reach any particular spots that made me feel good, so I mostly just got off with my clit," You explained, a little embarrassed. 

"Well, I have long fingers," Jean began to slip off your last item of clothing. You gulped nervously, you now were exposed completely to him.

"So pretty, and you're wet," He groaned and looked back up to you, "Open your mouth."

You almost asked why, but you didn't want to kill the mood, so you complied. Jean slid two fingers into your mouth and you got the message. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks, sucking on them. 

"Fuck," He sighed out and you felt him twitch against you. 

He pulled his fingers out and moved them back between your legs. He first slowly thrusted one finger inside you, to get you used to the unfamiliar feeling. The stretch wasn't too painful, and he was definitely right. His fingers were longer. 

He moved the one finger in and out of you slowly at first, picking up the pace as he continued. When he felt you relax completely he added a second finger. This time the stretch was a little more, making you tense.

"You're so tight," Jean was watching your pussy in wonder and slid his body down, so his face was near it. 

"What are you– Oh my God," Jean's lips sucked on your clit softly, then continuously kitten licked it, all while maintaining his finger thrusts.

"You taste good," Jean said it so casually, you'd think he was talking about the weather. He removed his fingers for a moment to get a better taste. He kissed you directly on your cunt before penetrating you with his tongue. He moaned against you, sending vibrations into you. You tried to unconsciously escape the pleasure, your thighs attempting to close, but Jean's large hands held you down. 

He returned his fingers inside you and this time adding a third. It stung more than before, but Jean's mouth on your clit made you forget all about the uncomfortableness. He began curling his fingers inside you reaching a spot that instantly had a knot forming in your stomach. Your hands shot around you, one gripping the sheets and the other in Jean's hair. 

He latched onto clit again and you gave up on trying to quiet your moans, embarrassment be damned, it felt too good.

"Jean," You moaned his name, which only made him moan back in return, "I-I'm going to…" You whined a little, not quite there yet, but right on the edge.

"You're going to cum?" Jean asked, not even completely pulled away from your clit to do so, "Go ahead and cum on my fingers, baby." He quickened his strokes and returned to your clit. It was just enough to send you over.

You grinded into his hand and cried out. Jean moaned too as if he was being pleasured just at the sight of you or maybe it was because of the sensation of your tight pussy clamping around his fingers. He couldn't help himself and licked up some of your release, making you jump. 

He moved back up to you with a content smile, "Did that feel good?" 

"Yeah," You smiled back through half lidded eyes, still buzzing from the pleasure.

He gave you a deep kiss and you could taste yourself on him. Tasting your own saccharine flavor was strangely erotic. 

Jean pulled away, "Is it alright if I take my cock out?" He asked beforehand just in case you changed your mind. 

"Yeah, of course, I want to see the monster that's going to destroy me," You joked and earned yourself a cocky smirk.

Jean took off the only clothing that was separating the two of you. You glanced down and saw his size more visibly now. You were right to be intimidated before, he was huge. Jean seemed to take note of your apprehensive expression so he returned to giving you some kisses in order to soothe you. 

“We’ll take it slow and if it’s too much just tell me,” Jean assured you which helped calm you down. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” Your eyes met as he began to rub the head up and down between your folds, collecting its wetness. He rubbed it over your clit and back down, making you feel particularly tingly. When he started pushing the head inside you had to remind yourself to not tense up, but it was hard. He was stretching a lot more than his fingers did. His cock added an unfamiliar pressure inside you that his fingers didn’t.

“God, that’s just the head and you're already squeezing me,” Jean threw his head back trying to regain composure. It was also his first time and he did not want to embarrass himself by finishing quickly. Also the gentlemen inside him wanted to feel you cum around him first.

He slowly continued to push further in as you grabbed his arms to brace yourself. When he finally bottomed out you swore you could see the bulge on your tummy. He kept still and waited for you to give him the go ahead even though he had the incredible urge to just thrust forward.

“You alright?” Jean's voice was more strained than usual.

“Yeah, why the fuck you gotta be so big, Jean,” Which only made Jean smile and give an apology kiss. You took a few more moments getting used to the stretch when the pleasure overtook the pain. You felt the veins on his cock inside you. You felt so full, but so good. You grinded into him trying to feel more and Jean noticed.

“I’m going to start moving now,” Jean warned and began pulling back before snapping his hips forward. You both cried out how he filled you up, your walls fluttering around him.

The pace was unrushed and steady to begin with. He withdrew his cock only to plunge it back into you, hitting you deep, in a repetitive matter. You felt the pleasure everywhere, all the way in your toes. 

You started meeting his thrusts, moving your hips in order to do so. Jean hitched your leg higher which only made you feel him deeper, hitting a sweet spot that caused you to gasp.

“You can go faster,” You said breathlessly, “Please, Jean, it feels so good.”

“Fuck,” Jean moaned back, his slow deep thrusts turned into a quick pounding. He continuously hit that new spot every time. Your whimpers turned into uncontrollable moans. Not wanting to make too much noise you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, sucking and biting his skin. 

You briefly looked down where your bodies met and saw him pumping out of you, your slick covering his cock and your thighs. The sight made your eyes roll back into your head.

“Please,” You moaned into Jean who brought his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Please, what? What do you want, princess?” He grunted a bit after, not once did he lose his pace.

“I want… Ah… Please, I don’t know,” You felt like you could cry, you were right on the edge. You didn’t know what you needed, but you felt too good to try to figure it out. You figured he was close too by the way he was twitching inside your pussy and his thrusts became a little more desperate. 

“Open,” Jean brought his fingers back to your mouth, groaning at the sensation. He kept them there for a few more moments than necessary, just enjoying the way you looked with your pretty lips wrapped around him. 

Then he brought them between your legs and began rubbing your clit at the same pace he was thrusting into you.

“J-Jean, I’m gonna cum,” You grabbed his wrist, almost overwhelmed by the feeling. 

You cried out his name as your pussy milked him, triggering his own release. He groaned your name as he came. You felt the warmth of him spill deep inside you and it made your pussy tremble all the more. He gave a few final thrusts before slumping on top of you.

“Look at me while you cum, princess, come on, cum on my cock,” He encouraged you. You held eye contact for as long as you could, but when that coil in your tummy snapped you had to squeeze your eyes shut in absolute bliss.

“We definitely should’ve done that sooner,” He mumbled into your hair, making you giggle.

“Definitely,” You echoed back.

He slid out of you after that, making both of your bodies shudder at the loss of connection. You pussy still trying to pulse around something.

“I just showered,” You commented with a frown, looking at the mess between your legs. 

“I’ll go get a towel?” Jean offered, and you gave him a nod. He redressed quickly, kissed you deeply, then stated he would be back soon.

You threw your shirt back on while you waited. You felt so sleepy after that. Even though you wanted to feel clean, you wished you cuddled with Jean some more, already missing him.

After a couple more minutes the silence was broken.

 “I knew it!” You heard Eren’s familiar voice shout from outside your door and you sat up confused.

“Shut the fuck up before I hit you!” You heard Jean’s voice shout back and then a few more quieter exchanges that you couldn’t make out from the two men. Then your door opened fast, Jean slipping quickly inside, locking it behind him. In one hand he had a warm towel and in the other he had a new set of sheets. 

“What happened?” You pointed at the door and Jean scowled.

“Apparently those assholes bet on when we’d finally hook up,” Jean explained before cleaning you up. You blushed as he took care of you. Despite what just took place you still felt embarrassed. Jean noticed and just pecked your cheeks.

“That’s kind of funny, we should’ve placed our own bets,” You hummed and stood shakily, grabbing a new pair of underwear as Jean changed your sheets for you. 

“I can’t believe Eren won,” Jean frowned, but when your arms wrapped around him from behind he couldn’t help but smile.

“Will you stay with me? I kind of want to nap,” You mumbled into his back.

“Of course,” You both returned to your bed this time with more innocent intentions.

Jean laid on his back and you threw your arm around his chest and your leg over his, snuggling up into his side.

“I don’t want to die,” You murmured sleepily.

“You won’t,” Jean stated firmly.

“How do you know?” You looked up at him.

“Because we both have something to live for,” He met your gaze softly, before kissing your head again.

You told each other you loved another once again before you both fell asleep. It was a sleep where neither of you had the common nightmare about your untimely deaths. 

Instead it was a sleep where you both dreamt of the future you now could have with one another.

#this was so much more fluff than i wanted lol #aot smut #aot #aot jean #jean x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan #mikasa ackerman #hange zoe #aot eren #eren aot #connie springer #arlert angel

[watchmegetobsessed]

REMINDER

a/n: i’ve had this idea on my mind all weekend and finally got around to write it! just a short little oneshot of Bucky finally realizing he should make his move 😌

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: blood, gunshot

word count: 3.7k

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

Bucky hated Tony’s luxurious parties, but as part of the team, he could just never avoid them, someone always came into his room and forced him to join the others, telling him it would be so much fun. It was never. He doesn’t even know what he would find fun anymore, having his life back after all these torturous years, it’s hard to find what brings him happiness, but schmoozing with Tony’s friends and the team and all the agents is just not his cup of tea. He would rather hide in his room, read a book or catch up with whatever show he has been watching lately.

The night he met you was a similar one. Steve was the first one to drop by his room, trying to convince him to get dressed and join the rest of the team for a drink, but Bucky resisted until his friend gave up and left, but then came Natasha. She just always knew how to play the strings to make him do what she wanted. After a bit of persuasion he finally agreed to make an appearance, though he made it clear he wouldn’t be there too long.

After changing into a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeved shirt that hid his metal arm quite well, he made his way to the party, already feeling grumpy that he had to socialize. It was just like the last time. He got himself a drink, talked a little to Steve, then Banner and Nat and then hid in the corner of the room, avoiding any new faces, not in the mood to introduce himself. He was about to sneak out and go back to his room finally when he first saw you.

You were a relatively new agent in the tower. Having only been there for a few weeks, you didn’t have the chance to meet Bucky since he was on a mission up until a few days ago. You were a bit of a social butterfly, it didn’t take you too long to make friends in the Tower and you found yourself getting the closest to Wanda for some reason.

When Bucky saw you that evening you were talking to her near a high table, nursing a drink in your hands. You wore a white, tight dress that made it no secret how much all the training had helped to form your body through the years. He couldn’t hear your voice, but when he saw your smile, he swore his heart skipped a beat.

Your eyes caught his gaze lingering on you and he quickly turned away, feeling his cheeks growing hot, as if he was a kid caught red-handed of something troublesome. Bucky hoped you didn’t notice it or that he didn’t cross any lines, asking for another drink for himself he was planning to chug the whole thing down and then leave before he could embarrass himself any more. What he was not expecting was you making your way towards him to introduce yourself to the man you’d only heard about, but hadn’t met. He was so busy with making up his plan about how to escape and then thanking his drink to the bartender, that he didn’t even notice you approaching him. So when he turned to the left and was about to walk away he bumped right into you, some of his vodka soda spilling to your dress, making it stick to your skin on your thigh.

“Oh shit, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t looking, I’m so so—“

“It’s alright,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders as you grabbed a few napkins from the bar to soak up some of the wetness.

“I totally ruined it, right? I’ll buy you another dress or pay for this one, I’m so sorry,” he kept rambling, feeling like a total idiot.

“It’s just a dress,” you smiled at him warmly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it’s… it’s a pretty dress,” Bucky found himself saying and when he saw your eyebrows raising, he almost wanted to take it back.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met before. I’m Agent Y/L/N and you must be Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled at him, holding out a hand for him that he took and delicately shook.

“Just… call me Bucky,” he nodded with a shy smile and that was the start of something new in his life.

He found himself bumping into you all the time, in the controlling room, the gym, the kitchen, you were everywhere. Though it might not had been that coincidental, Bucky found himself learning your routine pretty fast and made his own schedule according to that. He couldn’t help it, you were the sweetest and most beautiful creature he had ever seen and he found himself being drawn to you. And you didn’t mint it, not even a bit. A special bond started to form between the two of you, movie nights, shared missions, runs around the city, you always had something to do together and Bucky was falling for you more and more with every passing day.

Nat and Steve liked to tease him about his growing feelings, but utterly with the intention of forcing him to make a move finally.

“What are you waiting for, Barnes?” Nat questioned him one afternoon when she caught him eyeing you in the controlling room.

“What are you talking about?” he cleared his throat, pretending like he had no idea, but he wasn’t a good actor.

“Just ask her out.”

“No,” he shook his head, folding his arms on his chest.

“Why not? She has the same heart eyes for you that you have for her,” she rolled her eyes nodding in your way. You were sitting behind a desk, oblivious to the conversation that was happening across the room.

“She is just friendly. That’s all we are. Friends.”

“We are friends, Barnes. You and her? That’s more than that,” Nat pointed it out and he looked in your way, chewing on his bottom lip as he watched you type something out on the computer. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you looked up, eyes meeting his and a warm smile tugging on your lips. Bucky could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, just like every time you looked at him with those bright eyes of yours.

He couldn’t bring himself to make an actual move. He was always so afraid you’d reject him and the friendship you shared was one of the most important things in his life. He didn’t want to risk losing it. Besides, he always thought he would have time to figure out what to do. Even if he decided to confess to you, he couldn’t just do it out of the blue, he needed time which he thought he had. It was up until the two of you went on a mission together and it didn’t go according to plan.

You were supposed to stay together during the raid, but you convinced him to split up when you started chasing some bad guys and they parted ways.

“It’s going to be fine, Bucky. You go that way and I’ll meet you by the jet, alright?” you told him before running off the other direction. He wanted to go after you, not let you go alone, but he didn’t listen to his instinct.

Now he is running through the maze of hallways after you asked for help through the com. Natasha is on her way too, but she is way farther from your location than he is.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he calls out, trying to find the right way. Gunshots are heard outside and Tony makes some stupid joke about Steve, but Bucky ignores it, he just wants to hear your voice.

“Yeah, but I’m out of bullets, hurry—“

A series of gunshots rips through the com and he hears your painful grunt, the sound of your whimper turning his blood cold right away.

“Y/N! Y/N what happened?!” he shouts, speeding down the hallways leading to the place where you’re supposed to be according to your tracker.

“I got—Shit I got shot,” you groan, the end fading out as your voice breaks.

He bursts through the double door and immediately sees the man that most likely shot you, holding up his gun Bucky shoots him in the chest so fast the guy didn’t even have time to aim at him.

“Y/N!” he calls out, frantically looking for you.

“Bucky!” he hears your faint voice coming from behind a desk. He sprints to you, kneeling down next to you and horror shakes through his whole body when he sees the relatively big pool of blood around you as you try to push your hands to the wound on your thigh. “I think… I think it grazed an artery,” you faintly tell him, a few tears rolling down your cheek.

“Fuck, no, no, stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine!” he tells you, ripping off the sleeve of his shirt, wrapping it around your leg as tight as possible to try to stop the bleeding. “Y/N was shot, she is losing blood rapidly. We need to get her out now!” he demands through the com while you are slowly losing your consciousness. “Don’t fall asleep, alright? Stay with me! Talk to me!” he begs you as he cradles you into his arms and heads out to the jet.

“I can’t…” you breathe out, your head falling to his shoulder as he carries you in bridal style.

“Of course you can. And you will. You are not dying on me, understood?”

“It’s not like… I have a choice,” you tell him with a faint smile, your eyes slowly closing.

“Y/N, don’t fall asleep! Just hang in there a little longer!”

He makes it out of the building, Natasha and Steve joining him on the way, the jet already waiting for them. You try to keep your eyes open, Bucky keeps asking you questions and doesn’t leaves you until he hears an answer.

“This was not how I imagined my death,” you mumble, lying on the floor of the jet as it takes off, heading back to the Tower where Dr. Cho is already waiting for you.

“It’s not that, Y/N, that’s not happening now. Just stay with me okay?” Bucky begs you, holding your hand in his while Natasha works on your leg, trying her best to keep you from losing any more blood.

“So eager to keep me alive, hmm?” you smile, eyes dropping closed, but Bucky squeezes your hand, making you to look at him.

“Of course. I still owe you a new dress, don’t I?” he tries to joke, but you don’t answer. You lost your fight and let yourself lose consciousness as Bucky keeps calling your name over and over again, but you never answer him.

The next twenty-four hours is a blur to both you and him as well. For him because he refuses to leave your side once you are out of Dr. Cho’s hands, he stays sitting on the uncomfortable chair by your bed no matter what as members of the team drop by every once in a while. And for you because you keep drifting in and out of consciousness, but you’re never strong enough to actually open your eyes, you only hear voices. Mostly Bucky’s.

One time you hear him talking to Steve, their voices sound distant, but you can understand the words clearly.

“I shouldn’t have let her go alone,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Steve tries to convince her, but it sounds like Bucky is too stubborn to listen to his friend.

“We were supposed to stay together. It was my fault.”

You want to protest. You want to tell him it was none of his fault, but you can’t bring yourself to speak and the darkness pulls you in again, cutting you off of the world. Next time your mind wakes up, you hear Natasha’s soothing voice.

“Why don’t you go and sleep a little? I’ll stay with her,” she offers and that’s when you feel a warm hold on your left hand.

“No,” Bucky answers from beside you. “I’m staying, but thanks.”

“Alright, are you hungry then? I can bring you something.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shortly and you can tell just from his voice that he is so broken, beating himself over what happened. But once again, you are not strong enough to speak and you fall back asleep again.

But the third time you wake up you can actually bring yourself to open your eyes. The bright neon lights are a little blinding, so you need to blink a few times before you get used to them. It takes a couple of seconds to take in your surroundings and then your eyes fall on the sitting form next to your bed.

Bucky is reading a book you gave him a few weeks ago, it’s the first Hunger Games, you thought he would like the story a lot and judging from how far he is in it, he really does. He is so lost between the lines that he doesn’t realize that your eyes opened.

“Bucky?” you call out, your throat feels as dry as a desert and his blue eyes immediately snap at you, putting the book aside as he leans forward to grab your hand gently in his again.

“Hey! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” he asks you, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Like shit,” you chuckle, making him smile as well, but his eyes still hold a lot of pain from seeing you like this. “I’m thirsty.”

“Here.” He grabs a bottled water from the bedside table and pours some into a paper cup, helping you drink it and you feel like you were reborn.

“Thanks. What… How long have I been out?” you ask, pushing yourself up a bit so you’re leaning against the headboard.

“A little over a day. Dr. Cho said it could take you a few days to wake up after all the blood you lost.”

Now that he has brought it up, you realize that your thigh is wrapped up, a constant, blunt pain gripping your nerves. You push the white covers off of yourself so you can take a look at the slightly bloody bandages hugging your leg. You already know it will leave a nasty scar on you.

“I should have been there,” Bucky speaks up seeing you eyeing your leg. You look at him shaking your head.

“No. You couldn’t have known and I was the one who told you to go the other way. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I could have just told you no. I should have.”

“Bucky, stop,” you breathe out, gripping his hand tight in your hold. “You brought me out of there, practically saved my life. If anything I should be thanking you.”

“But I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first pla—“

“Shut up, Sergeant,” you chuckle softly. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Bucky’s face softens as he stares back at you nodding shortly. He can’t even describe how thankful he is to hear your voice again, the silence in the room was like torture for him, watching you lie on the bed completely still and there was nothing he could do to help you. But now he has you back and this whole fiasco made him realize that he doesn’t have all the time in the world with you.

Your recovery is faster than expected thanks to Helen’s amazing work. Two days after you woke up you are dismissed and you are back in your own room. Bucky has been by your side all along and you had to send him back to his room during the night because he wanted to sleep in that uncomfortable chair again. Eventually you convinced him to get some sleep but he was already in the room when you woke up in the morning. Now that you are out of medical care he is still following you like a little puppy, ready to do anything you need help with.

“You know, I just have to use my clutch for a few more days, but I’m totally fine,” you chuckle when he helps you put your stuff away arriving back to your room while you lie down.

“I know, but I want to help,” he smiles, nodding shortly. “And… I have something for you,” he then adds with a boyish smile.

“A surprise?”

“An ‘I’m glad you didn’t die during mission’ surprise,” he smirks, making you chuckle. He shuffles out of the room and then returns with a baby blue paper bag in his hands. Walking over to the bed he sits to the edge handing the gift to you.

“When did you have time to buy it? You never even left my side,” you ask with a suspicious look.

“Nat helped me a little,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. You dig into the bag and your fingers find a soft material, making you gasp before you could even see the item. You just already know what it is. Pulling out you’re staring at a white dress, similar to the one you wore at the party the two of you met officially. The one he spilled his drink on and promised to buy a new one.

“Bucky, you shouldn’t have,” you breathe out, eyes softening at the man who is now eyeing you with a gentle look, clearly feeling shy and nervous about the gift.

“I don’t know if you remember it but when we were in the jet I told you I still owe you one,” he explains as you lay the fabric across your legs, smoothing your hand over the silky fabric as you smile to yourself.

“I do remember that. Actually, that’s the last thing I remember.”

“I wanted to keep my word,” he mumbles under his breath.

Pushing yourself up from the bed you are about to head into the bathroom when he stops you in panic.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clearly wanting you to return to bed.

“I’m gonna try it on, don’t you want to see me in it?” you ask coyly and you see his cheeks blushing at your question before he just nods shortly.

It’s a little challenging to put it on, but you manage to succeed, walking out with your clutches, bare feet and your hair in a messy ponytail, but still, Bucky’s breath gets caught in his chest when he sees you. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious about the way you look, especially with the ugly bandages on your thigh that peek out from under the dress. Stepping to the mirror next to your dresser you take a look at yourself, expression hardening when you see that the scar will probably be seen from under most of your dresses once it’s healed. You try to tug the dress down a little to hide the bandage, but there’s no use, it’s showing no matter what.

Bucky realizes what you’re doing and stepping closer to you he takes your hand that’s fumbling with the fabric and keeps it between his palms.

“All my previous battle wounds are hidden somewhere, but this one will be on full display,” you whisper sadly, eyes dropping to the floor. Bucky cups your cheek in his hand and makes you look up into his eyes with a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know, I just…” you sigh, not even sure what you wanted to say.

“You know, in a way this…” He starts, brushing his fingers through the bandage gently. “This is going to be a reminder for me.”

“A reminder?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Because I always thought I have all the time in the world with you, but I almost lost you. And I don’t want to waste any more time.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you into his embrace as your palms slide up his arms to the base of his neck. You are both so nervous to be this close without sparring, your heart is beating so fast, he can probably hear it, but he feels the same way.

“If you think of me as just a friend, now might be the best time to tell me,” he whispers with a soft chuckle that makes you smile too. You lean closer, your nose touching his, lips almost brushing against each other.

“You are so much more than that,” you breathe out before he closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you the way he wanted to so many times before.

It’s like the rest of the world stops existing, there’s only you and him, his lips on yours, fingers digging into your waist, flesh and metal ones as well, bunching your dress under his touch as you press up against him, your kisses growing hungrier with each passing moment.

When it’s just about to get a little more heated, someone clears their throat and you are forced to snap back to reality, seeing Steve and Nat standing at the door, watching the two of you grinning widely.

“Just wanted to check on you Y/N to see if you need help with anything, but you clearly have everything you need,” Natasha teases you, making your cheeks heating up as you rest your forehead against Bucky’s shoulder, his arms circling around you tight, hands running up and down your back soothingly.

“Glad to see you finally made your move, Bucky,” Steve nods smirking.

“Alright, alright. The show is over, guys,” Bucky waves them off. Natasha winks at you before leaving the two of you alone.

“We will never hear the end of this,” you growl, your head dropping back, but Bucky just smiles and kisses your forehead sweetly.

“If they keep teasing us we’ll just kick their ass,” he grins making you laugh before you press your lips against his again in a short, chaste kiss.

“Deal.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fanfic

[maybanksslut]

Truth or Dare || s.b.

Pairing: Sirius black x reader

Requested: yes, by @welcome-here-in-my-world

Word count: 2k

Warnings: explicit language, enemies to lovers, fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d despised Sirius Black for as long as you could remember. It was no secret to anyone. You’d never been someone to hate people, but he, oh how he got on your nerves. Never had you met anyone as annoying and irksome as him.

Everything about him made your blood boil. His friends and their stupid pranks they always pulled on you. One day it was dying your hair a bright color, another they’d settle for spilling water all over you. Everything just to see that angered expression on your “cute little face” as Sirius always said.

You also despised his smirk. Oh, how you wished to just wipe it off his face! The way his lips curled up in a mischievous smile each time he’d made a stupid comment or pulled a dumb prank. It made you crazy in the worst way possible. Not to mention that glint in his eyes when he knew he’d got under your skin. You hated how he was able to anger you so easily.

Last, but not least, you hated his popularity. How every girl and boy were his possession, how they all would do anything for him. He had everyone wrapped around his finger and that made you feel threatened. He might have been attractive, but his personality was fucking disgusting.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Truth be told, what you hated most, was the absolutely awful crush you’d developed on the boy. You had no idea how, why, or when, but somehow you’d fallen for the boy you seemingly despised.

“Y/n?” Lily snapped her fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I asked you if you were coming to the quidditch game tonight. ‘S Gryffindor against Slytherin”

“Oh,” you thought for a moment, before frowning. Gryffindor was playing, which meant Sirius would be there. Which also meant that you’d have to pretend you didn’t care about his stupid smile, and that was starting to get on your nerves. Lily was close enough to find out about the crush already, you needn’t make it easier for her. “I don’t think so, I’m really tired”

Lily just nodded in response, continuing to scribble something down in her notebook. You sighed. How long was this going to last? If the crush didn’t vanish soon, you would be sure Lily would sense something and confront you about it. And since no one was able to lie to Lily, you really didn’t want that to happen.

After a moment, you excused yourself, heading for your dorm. Unfortunately, fate didn’t want to let you off the hook that easily. You’d only walked a few steps before harshly colliding with someone’s chest, stumbling backward and dropping your bag.

“Ow!” You exclaimed, rubbing your forehead. You didn’t even bother looking up at the person who’d walked into you, as you already knew that chuckle too well.

“You should be careful not to fall for me, sweetheart,” Sirius laughed, bending down to pick up your books. A smirk was playing on his lips, and he looked quite pleased with himself for bumping into you.

“Right,” you scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about that. ‘S not gonna happen. Can I get my books now?”

“Sure,” he replied, raising them over his head instead of handing them over. You shot him a glare, jumping up to reach them. That was to no use, obviously, since he was taller than you.

You groaned, pushing him away and trying to annoy him, yet he only appeared even more amused, his smirk now a full grin, his pretty teeth showing. God, he was really pretty when he smiled... No! He was not pretty and he was not attractive, he was a prick and you didn’t like him.

Both tired and flustered by his behavior, you turned around to leave him. If he wanted the books, you’d let him have them. Better than anyone realizing you don’t hate him as much as you told everyone you did.

“Hey, wait,” surprised, you turned around to see Sirius jogging up to you.

Without a smirk on his face, he handed you your books. The moment his fingers touched yours, an electric wave shot through you, setting every particle in your body on fire, and suddenly, it was hard to breathe. You seemed to have got lost in his eyes, drowning in the stormy orbs. For a moment, it felt as if you had some sort of connection. A mutual feeling.

Then, he pulled away and the magic was gone, leaving nothing but two people that hated each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We’re having truth or dare in the common room later, you wanna come?”

Lily’s words make you sigh. Sure, you liked truth or dare, but with the whole Gryffindor house? Way too risky. You could accidentally spill your secret.

Perhaps you were worrying too much. Perhaps letting that dumb crush take over your life was foolish, it wasn’t that much of a big deal. Teens have crushes all the time, how is this any different? The truth was, you didn’t quite know why, but it felt different.

Not to mention that moment in the hall... god, you’d thought about his fingers grazing yours for the whole night. It didn’t exactly help that he was now sitting beside Lily, his gaze lingering on you and a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Yeah, y/n, you’d come,” he said. “There’s gonna be firewhiskey”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you snorted.

“Everyone’s an alcoholic in seventh year”

“Sure,” you turned to your red-headed friend. “I’ll come”

Lily grinned, clasping her hands together. She then left, muttering something about ‘having to prepare the party’, leaving you alone with no other than Sirius Black. You tried to eat your meal silently, keeping your eyes away from his face, but it was nearly impossible when he kept staring at you shamelessly.

You looked up, only to reveal Sirius with his head tilted. There was something in his expression that made him look like he thought you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. The two of you didn’t say a word, letting comfortable silence answer every question for you.

Even though you couldn’t really read him, there was something that told you this silence was more than silence. It was like an agreement between you. What you had agreed on? You weren’t sure, but it felt good. Freeing, almost. And you didn’t want to let it go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The music was sending vibrations through your whole body as it loudly flew out of the speakers. The whole common room was filled with students, there were bodies everywhere. People were dancing, screaming, and singing to celebrate Gryffindor's victory over Slytherin in quidditch.

Someone bumped into you, spilling their drink all over you. You were going to scold him, but the person was already gone. You scoffed to yourself, angrily stomping towards the table you’d previously seen Lily sit at. You were starting to regret coming here at all. Not only did you have to handle Sirius Black, but you also had to dodge all the drunk students that were swaying their bodies in every possible direction.

“This is why I hate parties” you muttered to yourself, spitting down on Lily’s left. She smiled, not even looking at you, bringing her drink up to her lips.

You followed her gaze, only to find her staring at James Potter. Not that you were surprised. The two of them had been pining for each other for god knows how long. You chuckled to yourself as Lily’s gaze met James’. You noticed he was hesitant about coming over when you were there as well, so you quickly fled the scene so they could have some alone time.

You found yourself a new spot, by the tray with firewhiskies, where you quietly drank the alcohol. It was freeing to feel the booze numb your senses and you almost forgot why you didn’t want to come here at all. Almost.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?”

“Piss off, Sirius”

“Ouch,” he jokingly grabbed his chest. “You’ve wounded me”

“Good,” you spat, getting ready to leave the whole party. Your mood was ruined, not because he seemingly annoyed you, but because Sirius had a very irksome way of making you feel things you shouldn’t feel.

He made you feel something for him.

“Leaving already?” He pouted, running a hand through his hair. “We haven’t even had the chance to play truth or dare”

“I don’t care”

“No, wait,” he almost pleaded. “Just one game. For me. Please?”

You really wanted to leave and forget this conversation ever happened, but with Sirius looking at you like that, it was impossible. You sighed in resignation, following your so-called enemy to the middle of the common room.

He was quick to silence everyone and make them sit in a circle on the floor. For some reason, it annoyed you how all the girls sent him flirty looks. Luckily, he didn’t return them, only sent you a small smile, which, completely against your will, turned your legs to jelly. If you weren’t already seated, you’d probably faint.

“Okay, everyone knows the rules, right? The only difference is this time I stole this from Slughorn,” he took out some sort of potion from his pocket. From the triumphant smirk on his face, you guessed it was a truth potion. And you weren’t wrong. “That’s right, folks, veritaserum. Now this game will be more honest than ever”

God, this was taking an awful turn. Yes, now the word truth had a completely different meaning. Before at least you could’ve lied about something you didn’t want to answer, but now? You were forced to actually reveal all your darkest secrets.

But no worries, right? There were at least fifty people here, surely you wouldn’t be chosen in the first few rounds. Right?

Wrong.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” You steered in shock at the bottle Sirius had just spun. How were you the first one to get chosen? Did really life hate you that much?

You could see he was amused. His eyes had that glint of mischief in them, and he was grinning widely. “Uh, dare”

No! No, no, no, what had you done? Yes, if you’d chosen truth, you’d have to tell someone a secret, but now Sirius, of all people, was the one to decide your fate! Oh, how you wished he’d have mercy and dare you to jump on one leg or braid someone’s hair.

But that was just wishful thinking and you knew it, just as you knew Sirius. And his mischievous smirk only made you more certain. He wasn’t going to go easy on you.

“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in this room”

And that’s when you freaked out. Your hands were full of sweat and you hoped to his no one saw your heated up face. Your lower lip quivered and you were almost sure you’d start crying.

Surprisingly enough, your behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Sirius, whose smile had faded at your reaction. Instead, his eyes filled with worry and he grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the common room. You vaguely heard some people complain, but Sirius ignored them. All he cared about was getting you out.

He stopped in the hall, turning to look at you.

“Okay,” he began. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he put a finger on your lips. “Shhh, you don’t have to say anything. It’s okay, I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to, y’know”

You were taken aback by his words. He didn’t seem much of an apologizing person. Perhaps he didn’t mean it? But his gaze told you that he wasn’t joking, not his time.

In the heat of the moment, you offered him a smile. “It’s okay. I just didn’t want to kiss you in front of everyone”

For once, you were the one to make him flustered and confused. He opened his mouth to say something, yet nothing came out. You... thought he was attractive? You, who he’d been so annoying too, like, forever? Realization spread across his face. Perhaps you didn’t hate him after all?

“You can kiss me now”

“Keep dreaming”

The smile you sent him made him feel weak and he could slowly, but surely feel himself falling for you. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he knew he’d do anything to get that kiss from you.

TAGLIST: @rorysreallyrandom @swanimagines @lxncelot @emmacata @i-cant-stfu @sirius-animagus @jupiiiter @captainshazamerica @iamninaanna @amortensie @theravenclawgal

FIC REVIEWERS: @amourtentiaa @slutforsalvatore @acosmis-t @iamninaanna @coffee--writes

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #harry potter reader insert #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #sirius x y/n #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius black smut #harry potter #hp #sirius imagine

[aquilaofarkham]

title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought. 

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️  Thank you so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity. 

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.” 

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

--

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician. 

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

 “I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn��t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough. 

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

#castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #greta danesti #trephacard #trevorcard #my writing #*cvfic

[buckttommy]

If you could write one S5 scene for 9-1-1, with a song playing in the background, what would happen in the scene and what song would be playing? (also, hello!)

hiya!

in the spirit of us allegedly getting the scene of eddie crying tonight, i do actually have this scene in my head (that includes a lot more swearing) where eddie is standing in the locker room, changing out of his clothes for the day.

his movements are short, jerky, fingers fumbling over the buttons on his shirt. he's angry, but when isn't he these days? it seems like it takes nothing for latent fury to rise up in his bones. most of the time, it never goes anywhere, always rising just to fall again, but this time, eddie's anger has a source.

a tall, stubborn, annoyingly attentive source.

buck stands at the door of the locker room with his arms crossed over his chest. eddie doesn't even have to turn around to know he's there. of course he's there; eddie's so attuned to buck's body he thinks -- knows -- he could pinpoint his location just from the way his hair stands on the back of his neck, the way buck's gaze on him feels like a warm hand stroking down his spine.

it's comforting, most times. especially when they're out in the field. tonight, it just makes him feel exposed.

the locker room empties out one by one until it's just him and buck, and the silence that descends upon them is thick and charged. eddie remains turned toward the lockers.

"what do you want, buck?"

"i want you to talk to me."

talk to him, he says. eddie almost laughs. like it's that easy.

"there's nothing to say."

"bullshit," buck hisses. "you had a panic attack at work. when the helicopter--

"i know what happened," eddie says quickly. too quickly perhaps, if the annoyed little huff buck gives behind him is any indication. seeing that chopper go down brought up enough bad memories to last a lifetime.

"you know what happened," buck says, voice flat. then, "jesus christ," he mutters.

eddie hopes, perhaps foolishly, that that's the end of it. that buck will be so angry, so disgusted with him that he'll just walk away and let the conversation drop until the next time it inevitably comes up again, but eddie should know better, really, because buck's never been a quitter even when he should be.

buck steps fully into the room, and it's like every molecule of energy between them comes alive. eddie almost imagines he can feel his warmth.

buck stands in his peripheral vision. "you don't get it, do you? do you know what this is like for me? do you get that? seeing you walking around every. fucking. day like nothing's wrong, when i know you're dying inside?"

"i'm fine, buck."

"you're not fine!"

eddie freezes. it's the first time he's ever heard buck raise his voice like that. they've argued, brutally, but he's never heard that note to buck's voice--shaky and desperate and infuriated and... scared, yeah. there's a whole lot of fear there too. he doesn't know what to do with it.

"you're not fine," buck continues. "or did you think i wouldn't know that you haven't slept in two days. yeah," buck says when he catches the startled look on eddie's face, "you can thank christopher for that little tidbit since he called me yesterday past midnight wondering if a person could die from not getting enough sleep. that was a fun conversation to have."

eddie sharply turns to face buck. fuck. he'd thought--he'd thought he'd been keeping it together, thought that he'd been keeping himself in check so that at least chris didn't have to see. especially not after the suit shopping thing.

he swallows hard. "what did you tell him?"

"i told him that he had nothing to worry about. that i'd be over this weekend to make sure you were getting your rest."

it's a non-answer but it must have been enough to assuage chris's worries.

eddie clears his throat. "i--thank you. i didn't--know he'd been... worried."

"he's not a little kid anymore. he sees more than you think he does."

"yeah."

"and if he knows you're not okay, why don't you?"

it's the wrong thing to say.

eddie can't say why it's that little sentence that does it. even later, when he thinks about it, he can't say for sure--whether it was the inflection in buck's voice, or the fear behind his eyes, or the disappointment eddie was sure he must have felt, or maybe just a miserable combination of all three. but one minute eddie's standing in front of his locker -- their locker -- waiting for buck to say his piece so the conversation can end, and the next...

the next he breaks.

eddie slams the locker door shut. "is that what you think this is? you think i don't know that i'm not okay?" he can hear the note to his own voice -- flat and cold and numb all at the same time. "you think i don't know i haven't been okay since well before the shooting, or the tsunami, or hell, shannon? jesus christ, buck, it's all i know. i wake up every morning surprised that i even woke up at all. it's like i can't even breathe without thinking something's going to kill me, whether it's this... this fear i can't shake, or the job, or something else. every morning i wake up and i'm surprised that i get to see my son one more time. my son, who i can barely let my son out of my sight, by the way, because every time he leaves the house, i don't know if it's the last time i'll ever see him. and then once i get started on that train of thought, it's like i can't stop. what's the last thing i said to him? if something happens, does he know i love him? and sometimes i'm right, and i do good, and the last thing i said is 'i love you' but then other times it's 'don't forget to tell your teacher you have a dentist appointment friday' and i feel sick because the last thing my kid will ever hear from me is nothing that tells him how much i adore him, and how proud i am of him, and how he's saved me in more ways than he knows by just existing."

eddie's eyes burn hot with tears. it's like his brain has detached from his mouth, but the words keep coming and he's powerless to stop them.

[this song starts playing]

"but i'm fine, right?" he continues. "it's fine. i'm not going to be that dad who keeps my kid caged in a house because i can't control my fears, so i let him go to school, and hang out with his friends, and maybe if i'm lucky, both of us are going to survive the fucking day. and then i get to work, and it's like it all starts over again. hen's late, and the first thing i think is that she's dead in an accident. chim comes in looking exhausted and upset, and i think, oh god something's wrong with maddie and the baby. and you--" eddie lets out a dark laugh. "goddamn you. i let you out of my sight and it's like my heart fucking stops until i see you again. i let you out of my sight, and i think the next time i see your face, it'll be covered in blood, or the next thing i hear will be you scream in pain, and it scares me because i don't know who i am or who i'm going to be if i lose you. and it never stops. it never fucking stops. all the voices, and the pain, and the fear, it's all there, and it's choking me. so no, buck, i'm not okay. i'm not fucking okay, and i need help."

his voice cracks on the last word, every bitter fear and anxiety now spilled into the open, and there's a moment, just a moment, where all buck can do is stare.

he feels torn open from skull to sternum, eddie's pain is so sharp visceral he swears he feels it mirrored in his own body. swears that if he looks down, he'll see nothing but a mess of blood spilling from all the open wounds in his flesh, and it feels like death.

so there's a moment, where buck stands and he bleeds and he dies.

but then. then, he grabs eddie into his arms. it's almost violent, the way he grips him -- too rough and too tight and too fierce, but eddie grips him back just as tight, face buried in his neck.

"it's okay," buck chokes, "it's okay, it's okay, we'll get you some help, it's okay, we're okay, you're not alone, it's okay" and he presses his lips to the top of eddie's head, to the side of his face, anywhere he can reach, just so he can touch and soothe as much of him as he possibly can. and they just stand there holding each other, shaking apart in each other's arms until the scene fades to black.

#this got longer than i meant for it to! #oh well #jack answers mail #i know you sent this yesterday but i didn't have time to write all this yesterday lol #my fic

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author Notes: hello again my loves! Thank you for all your likes, reviews and specially your comments! I love it when you make questions and in general let me know what you think about the chapter. Thank you once more for all your support!

XII.

They say time heals all wounds, but there are some wounds that run so deep they refuse to stop bleeding.

https://youtu.be/s1tAYmMjLdY

A cold September afternoon welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets of Tokyo, ever so vibrant; full of life, people, delicious food, kaleidoscopic colors, laughter, children running…. Couples holding hands.

A tall man with a blindfold walked down a heavily transited sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and a small bag of pastries hanging off the side. Slowly, he made his way further away from the more concentric streets towards a park, he found a bench near a fountain and took a seat placing his bag right next to him.

The world remained the same and yet everything seemed to have changed, the days were now long and boring, conversations with people didn’t manage to hold his attention for long; missions were repetitive. Everything seemed… dull, opaque, flavorless, empty…

Everything, except perhaps his students who were the only sliver of hope he had left. Those kids would make it far in life, they were going to change the world and he was going to be there to help them along the way. A sad smile pulls at his peachy lips. You would have liked that. After all, the kids also enjoyed your company back in the day when you were still his. It was as if you had become their adoptive mother of sorts at some point. Your nurturing nature guided you to care for others.

A year ago when Yuuji was placed under his care and tutelage at Jujutsu High it had been hard for the boy. At the time the kid had just lost his only living relative and to top it off he also consumed the most powerful curse ever known to man kind.

He had so much responsibility on his shoulders Satoru couldn’t help but make the connection with himself when he was a kid his age. That’s how Satoru decided to take him home for dinner one night; he couldn’t have been more pleased with his decision. Of course, you adored Yuuji. His sweet snd enthusiastic personality, his polite manners and naiveté made him just endearing in your eyes.

Even Megumi, who barely spoke with his more taciturn approach asked about you. Satoru didn’t know how to answer. The dark haired boy would also come and visit your home to help you prepare some foreign delicacies you loved to cook. Sighing once more he ran his hands through his white hair.

***-Flashback-***

“So where’s Y/N-san? I haven’t seen her in a long time?” Asked Megumi right after Satoru returned from New York. It caught him by surprise

“She… she doesn’t live in Japan anymore” was all he said before changing the subject. Megumi looked at him with eyes wide open but decided not to pry.

Yeah… that probably was weird. Someone asks you about your spouse and you say they moved out of the country. It was pretty obvious what that meant.

***~End Flash Back~***

Sighing he opened the small paper bag containing his mochi, he loved his desert but lately he didn’t even have the will to indulge in sweets anymore. Satoru consumed insane amounts of sugar to stimulate his brain. The problem was that during the past year all that stimulation manifested in the form of vivid memories of you. Your voice, your smell, your presence. It was as if his brain chose to take him down the path to misery, as if to rub on his face what he could never have.

As of last week you were officially not Y/N Gojo anymore. He finally signed those blasted papers giving you your freedom and his capitulation.

It had been one of the worst days of his life.

After signing the divorce Satoru went straight to the liquor store where he found that exotic apricot liquor he liked in New York and bought a bottle. Once he made it back home he proceeded to get drunk out of his mind. The next morning he woke up by the pool, laying down on a tanning chair, wearing only a pair of boxers and hugging your wedding picture.

His head was killing him, at some point he had emptied his insides in the pool. A disgusted grimace reminded him he had to hire some help to take care of the house that was an absolute disaster, faithfully reflecting the state of its owner.

That morning, nursing a hangover he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life.

But hey! On the positive side he didn’t remember at all that night! Which means he ‘probably’ didn’t think about you (yeah right! As if he was ever not thinking about you) and how much he hated the fact you were not his Y/N Gojo anymore. You were not his wife anymore…

The memory made him want to cry like a baby. He lost the person he loved the most in his life because he had been one flaming idiot.

Despite all his efforts he could not forget you. Wherever he went, whatever he did… there you were, tormenting his waking and sleeping hours like his own personal curse.

He tried to get over you. He tried to be the asshole you knew him to be. He slept with so many women he couldn’t even count. But at the end of the night, in the throes of passion it was your face that he saw, your body that he craved, your flavor that he yearned and your name the one he called out when he climaxed.

He was absolutely fucked.

Revisiting memories of the last night he saw you he couldn’t believe how stupid he had been at the time. It took him so long to realize he had always been in love with you but Satoru, being well… himself, he didn’t want to see or admit that he had been head over heels, madly in love with you. He was a cynical bastard and that had cost him dearly. He chose to lie to himself thinking that THE Gojo Satoru was above all human weaknesses… including love. What an ignorant fucker he had been.

He wondered how you were doing and if you ever thought about him.

A frown made his handsome face look stern. Well… you were not alone anymore. Suguru also had stayed back in New York with you. After Satoru returned to Japan, Ijichi told him Geto Suguru wouldn’t be working out of Japan anymore. He had requested a transfer to the Americas.

Of course he did…

It had been one of the reasons Satoru fucked so many women. In his delusional mind he was ‘getting even’ with you for sleeping with Suguru. Not that he knew for a fact you were sleeping with him or not but… I mean….

Come on! It’s mother fucking Geto Suguru we are talking about here! 6’2 of pure sculpted muscles, tattoos and bad boy looks but with a Prince Charming complex. Yeah… Satoru was green with jealousy because he knew his former best friend was a better man for you than he ever was.

Looking down at his mochi bag he realized the small item had paid the price of his anger as he uncurled his death grip from the bag. Sighing he tossed the ruined pastry in the trash can to his left.

“Miss you….” He whispered to the wind.

———–

“I’m home!” You announced walking into your apartment. Setting you bag down as well as a couple of grocery bags “did you start dinner already?” You ask pleasantly surprised although you already knew the answer to that question since all the apartment smelled fantastic. Suguru walked out of the kitchen with a big smile wearing an apron that read ‘Kiss the Cheff’ nods “yes! I figured I would give you a hand tonight!” He answered as you walked to him to wrap your arms around his waist and give him a chaste kiss on his cheek “thank you Sugu. How was your mission?” You asked deciding to set up the table while Suguru finished dinner. “Not too bad actually, it was a special grade but nothing I couldn’t deal with” you returned a bright smile “I’m glad”

Your friendship with Suguru had slowly evolved into something else. You both spent all of your free time together. Your connection was deeper than mere sexual attraction. Suguru truly understood you, cared for you, shared your dreams and hopes. He was the type of poetic soul who would stay awake with you well into the night just to talk about the stars, the book you read that week that you loved, the new music you liked. It was wholesome.

On the more carnal side you desired Suguru and he desired you but you hadn’t taken what was going on between you two further than a few passionate make-out sessions and some cuddling.

After you last saw Satoru everything became worse before it got better. Suguru had been your rock, he had been there for the sleepless nights you spent crying. Without a word he held you in his strong arms and allowed you to let go. He knew you were deeply wounded, your emotions in disarray and your mental stability in peril. But Suguru never asked anything from you, he gave you the strength to go on. To take care of yourself, to keep going with your career. To have… hope.

It seemed like a dream to think that your life had changed so much in the span of a year. You weren’t able to recognise yourself anymore. Pain and duress molded you into someone new, better, more resilient, harder to hurt.

At this point, the only person you fully trusted was Suguru, he was always honest with you, no matter what happened or how much something hurt, he always remained true to himself and to you.

It was impossible not to love someone like him. He was the whole package.

Suguru was handsome, that was indisputable. But Geto was more than a pretty face. He was kind, truly kind! He did things out of the goodness of his heart, not because he expected anything in return. He was honest, Suguru Geto would never lie to you and THAT is what you loved the most about him.

He was patient.

He wanted you to be his but at the same time Suguru wanted you to heal, to have the chance to trust and love again, not as a means to forget about Satoru but because you wanted to choose a new path for yourself.

After diner you helped with the dishes and then settled on the couch. Suguru joined with a smile and two glasses of wine. He handed you one and sipped on the other one “what would you like to watch tonight Kitten?” He asked sitting next to you while picking a movie from the titles available on the screen of the tv.

“Anything you like! It’s your turn to pick” you said with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder making Suguru smile. These tender displays of affection always made him feel so warm. Passing an arm around your shoulders he kissed your forehead.

You look up into his hazel eyes you blush. Suguru didn’t lose a second before he closed the space between your lips. The kiss was soft but meaningful, you didn’t hesitate to return it; wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to then climb on his lap straddling his hips.

The handsome sorcerer leans back, relaxing and running his hands slowly up and down your naked thighs covered only by the small fabric of your shorts, he strokes them softly leaving a path of warmth in the wake of his touch. Suguru deepened the kiss. His tongue delved in your mouth, slowly inviting yours to join the delicious dance. After a few minutes you pulled back, you are breathless. Your heart beats fast and the adrenaline was making you dizzy in anticipation.

Suguru looks at you, leaning his forehead against yours “I missed you” he ads before engulfing you in another passionate kiss, not even giving you the chance to reply. This time his lips are more demanding, his teeth nibbling your lower lip, requesting entrance. His tongue still tastes like the wine and you recognize his addictive flavor. Suddenly you find yourself laying on your back on the white couch, Suguru is on top of you and your legs are wrapped around his waist. Things are getting much more heated than you anticipated. Your hands roam the expanse of his back over hard muscles and warm skin covered only by the thin layer of his t-shirt. You know if you keep going this way you won’t be able to stop.

https://youtu.be/yBatuRGZAmA

A part of you doesn’t want this to end, you want to go all the way with Suguru. But… as much as you hate it, there is a tiny part of you that feels ambivalent about it. You wonder why is that you can’t just… do it!? You want Suguru! God! You desire him more than you can express with words, the growing wetness between your legs is evidence that you indeed were very much sexually attracted to him and yet your mind kept torturing you.

It was… complicated.

Your marriage with Satoru have been over longer than that piece of paper you got last week said. But erasing your feelings wasn’t something you could ever hope to do.

As much as you wanted to give yourself to Suguru it felt wrong that you were holding a part of yourself back. You wanted to give him everything, he deserved EVERYTHING of you. It wouldn’t be fair to just have sex with him when he deserved to be made love to.

You love Suguru, everyday that goes by your feelings for him grow and intensify, it was hard to even understand why would you hesitate and yet you did.

Your passionate kiss slowly becomes more tender until you are just sharing small pecks. Suguru pulls back with a little comforting smile; he felt the change in your body language, he knew what was going through your mind. You explained it to him before and he didn’t want to push you. He knew you needed to go at your own pace and he respected that.

“I’m… so-“ you starts apologetically but Suguru stops you with a little kiss “don’t… don’t apologize, I know baby…” he said reassuringly. Sealing his tender words with a kiss. When you separate again he asks “Alright little kitten, tell me… what’s it gonna be? ‘Dorian Grey’ or ‘Only Lovers Left Alive’?” Pulling you in his strong arms he cuddled with you on the couch, returning to the choices for movie you had.

You were so thankful for this man in your life “let’s go with ‘Only Lovers left Alive’”

With a last kiss he started the movie and pulled a blanket over you both.

He could wait, he would wait till the end of time. For you.

———-> Chapter 13/Part 1

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#gojo angst #gojo x you #jjk #geto x y/n #gojo saturo x reader #jjk suguru #jjkgojo #Youtube

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳april’s fool ♡

in which fred weasley is in love with y/n l/n, the girl he happens to tease and insult profusely for her attention. 

fred weasley x gryffindor!fem!reader 

word count: ±4.3k 

tw: food, fireworks, pranking, fred being a bully, tad bits of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. minnie, dumbledore and severus

yeah, your grandmama probably know me 

get more bottles, these bottles are lonely

it's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', "wow"

april’s fool 

“tomorrow is april fools,” dumbledore sighs. 

“you know what that means...?” mcgonagall asks, her voice on edge.

“the twins,” snape replies quickly, not even bothered one bit as he sips his dark coffee.

“and their pranks,” dumbledore dramatically rolls over in his armchair.

“okay and?” 

“they’re a hazard, severus!” mcgonagall replies.

“that doesn’t stop them.”

“what will stop them?” dumbledore ponders, eyes faint with interest. 

“you still have those weird buzzy fireworks right?” snape asks. 

“of course.”

“and minnie, you have the cake mix your grandmother gave you?”

“still in my cupboard next to the biscuits.”

“excellent.”

y/n l/n listens from the other side of the door, grinning. she’s been called to mcgonagall’s lavish office for some business she hopes isn’t trouble, but the conversation the three are deeply invested in piques her interest. 

she likes fun. the type of continuous laughter and uncontrollable fits of giggles at noon. that’s why she enjoys the pranks the twins play. they’re bold, sharp and reckless and have the undoubtable trademark of fred and george on them.

one too a many times she’s been on the receiving end of them. one time the twins had charmed the library so that she and other studious students could not find any books that they wanted or needed for a whole week. 

another time, her hair had been dyed bright pink. she wasn’t a fan of it, but tried her best to rock it. it worked. y/n had received many compliments on her bubblegum pink locks. 

she laughed it off a lot. whenever something quite embarrassing happened, it was usually funny. 

even the snide remarks the older twin always cast her way.

including the time he called her a blackhead. well, multiple times. 

“oi, l/n, looking like a blackhead.”

george had rolled his eyes at his brother before adding kindly, “at least you have nice hair. your tie’s always shiny too.”

she had just laughed, “at least i’ve got the blackhead looks to pull pink hair off, weasley, you can’t even pull off ginger hair, and thanks, georgie. love ya.”

fred had looked taken aback, but y/n still scowls at the memory. she gets she isn’t pretty, but there is a line you don’t cross when trying to insult someone.

he always calls her the most awful nicknames too; body parts that align with her name and random pieces of rubbish she isn’t bothered to remember.

she shakes herself of her thoughts and draws herself up, knocking thrice on the door lightly.

“come in,” mcgonagall’s calm tone beckons.

“good afternoon professors!” she chirps, smiling at all three.

they smile back. even snape. they’re big fans of the girl, who’s studious but mischievous. albus dumbledore has always thought that y/n’s eyes always look like all she’s seen is a beautiful sunset. 

“now you must wonder why i called you here,” mcgonagall starts.

“you see, how have you punished the weasley twins when they play all those pranks on you?” dumbledore eagerly asks. 

y/n gives a light laugh, “i just prank them back. i won’t get detention for this, right?” she jokes.

they laugh, “of course you will,” snape jokes back and for a second y/n is surprised that severus snape, the ever so cold potions professor, is cracking jokes. especially to her. 

“well then, i guess i can’t tell you how i prank them back then,” she drawls dramatically.

“no, no, do tell, we’re, what do you young people say?” mcgonagall pauses, “ahh yes! we’re all ears!”

y/n bursts out laughing, “okay, i usually do something that’s subtle enough but still very noticeable. they need to be anonymous too, or that’ll start prank wars and i’m only looking for short term pleasure really. one time, i dumped a whole bunch of polyjuice potion in both their little goblets. fred became george and george became fred. they were so confused.”

mcgonagall is impressed. 

“can you bake?” dumbledore asks and y/n shakes her head for a long time. 

“can’t bake for my sanity.”

“awesome. that is what i thought too,” dumbledore answers and y/n smiles. 

a single knock sounds. it’s proper and formal. 

“come in!” mcgonagall yells.

draco malfoy in all his glory steps into the room, eyes alight with concern, ever so indifferent. 

y/n knows him from quidditch. they’ve become relatively good friends, though she thinks he is very busy with his home life. she also knows that there’s more to him than the facade he has.

“afternoon,” he nods and gives a charming smile. 

“now, draco, i understand your mother had enrolled you in baking classes,” snape says. 

draco nods. 

“you must bake a cake,” mcgonagall hands him the cake mix.

she hands y/n the box of fireworks and winks. 

“good day professors! make sure to be at breakfast tomorrow!” y/n shouts, dragging draco with her to the kitchens. 

soon draco is laughing with y/n, at her atrocious puns and lightly placed jokes, finding himself very much happy. he’s not interested in her romantically, he simply enjoys her company. he’s even sharing some funny stories of his own too.

“...and i told him, to precisely fuck off.”

“so that’s how you deal with him!”

“oh no, he didn’t stop. he kept bugging me.”

“what did you do then?”

“i cast a muffliato charm on him.”

y/n bursts into laughter as they pass the gryffindor common room, quickly hiding the box of fireworks in her cloak as she spots two red heads quietly snickering by the fat lady. 

they notice the unlikely pair scurrying down the stairs. 

“hey, google eyes!” fred shouts. 

y/n doesn’t know fred well enough to decide if that greeting is dedicated to herself, so she continues upon her way. 

“weasley,” draco states. 

“huh?” y/n fakes oblivion. 

draco jerks his head in the way of the twins, where fred is smirking handsomely, leaning against the wall in a model-like fashion. 

george is shaking his head in dismay. 

“i said googly eyes!” fred shouts again.

y/n won’t lie, she thinks fred has undoubtedly good looks and his ginger hair is cute. he’s just a terrible person. to her, at least. she knows she’s biased, she’s often seen fred comforting ginny after a bad fight with a boyfriend, and from what she’s heard from alicia and angelina and katie, he’s funny too. 

she whips out her glasses and stares deadpan at him, before rolling her eyes and running with draco down the stairs, laughing like madmen.

they finish baking late at night, and waving her wand smartly over the cake, y/n produces a charm that will make the fireworks activate as soon as the cake is cut open. 

draco smiles as he pipes purple and orange roses, writing a ‘happy bday fred and george’ in chocolate letters. 

they add lots of sprinkles, hoping to seem like avid admirers of the twins. 

“does miss l/n and misters malfoy need any assistance?” a house elf asks.

draco just about opens his mouth to snap a ‘no’ when y/n gives him a silencing look.

“thank you rosemarie, but that is not needed, you are welcome to watch and talk with us though,” y/n politely answers, giving her a grin. 

the house elf sniffles, “miss l/n is too nice! rosemarie will make some hot chocolate for her! pretty hair!”

y/n laughs, “thank you very much, rosemarie. i think mister malfoy would also like some hot chocolate, with a tiny bit of firewhiskey, if that’s alright with you,” she winks at draco who just scoffs in reply. 

when they’re finished with the cake and the hot chocolate, y/n enters the gryffindor common room. angelina takes the cake and wraps it up in a box and nice wrapping paper. she sends it flying to the twins’ usual spot on the gryffindor table. 

“thanks angie!” y/n smiles, getting up from the cozy spot near the fire in the common room. 

“why are you going? we’re staying up till midnight for the twins’ birthday; wanna join?” angelina asks. 

y/n shakes her head, “i’m not too close with them, it seems like a rather intimate ceremony,” she keeps her words fluffy and light. really, she would join any birthday celebration, but she didn’t think she could handle the constant insults and annoying comments fred always made about her. and this would have been completely acceptable if she had done something to any one of the weasleys, but she hadn’t. she even regards ginny weasley as a little sister and was invited to one of ginny’s infamous slumber parties. okay, she might have a little crush on him for his joke-ish nature, but it’s nothing she can’t get over. he’s out of her league, for sure, she thinks. and terribly rude. she doesn’t understand why she still harbours those feelings for him. maybe because that time adrian pucey was mocking her for her ‘blood purity’ he stood up for her. or that time she hurt herself at quidditch and fred stayed up with her bandaging her wound. he cared when it mattered, she guesses. 

“i’m sure they would love you there.”

“fat chance,” she scoffs, “have a good night!”

she goes to her own dormitory up the stairs. she’s well known in gryffindor house, but for different reasons than the twins may be. although she’s close with angie and alicia, she’s not close with the twins. mainly because she’s always studying, playing quidditch, and doing prefect things. 

being on a quidditch team with fred weasley is bearable. mainly because she’s the captain. 

she’s stopped by a large hand on her shoulder. the owner of the hand swivels and suddenly a grinning fred is revealed. 

“where’re you going?” fred weasley’s annoying voice pronounces. 

“the sahara desert,” she snaps back dryly, “you’re in the way of my world exploration.”

“am i, really?”

“‘course,” she reigns her attitude in, “nice night, isn’t it?”

“for you? never.”

she scowls. fred watches in utter amusement as she takes a deep breath and charmingly smiles. 

“dearest freddie, will you please allow me to get to my dorm so i can have some sleep?”

fred’s heart skips a little at the nickname but shakes his head. 

“what’s the password?”

y/n sighs. “i don’t know. y/n is a blackhead. googly eyes. whatevers.”

fred lets out a loud laugh. y/n finds herself trying hard not to laugh with him. 

she turns around, ready to find her hufflepuff friend that has a spare bed in their dormitory, knowing fred is really stubborn.

“that’s not the password.”

“well, good night.” she walks off, before intensely diving in a style harry potter himself would be proud of, onto the stairs and running up the dorms laughing. 

fred stands at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open. 

“close your mouth, flies will be caught,” he heard the giggling voice of y/n.

“close yours and you’ll look better,” he insults back. 

“oh shut up. we know i’m the prettier one. and that’s saying something.”

the next morning, fred and george wake up to presents, a rowdy common room, and a nice cake sitting waiting for them on the gryffindor table. 

for the first time, y/n takes a seat opposite them, her eyes alight with the familiar mischief they always held. she steals glances at the professors, who were beaming down with interest, as if they shared an inside joke. draco malfoy has an odd smirk on his pale face. 

all eyes are on them as they cut open the cake. with a bang, fireworks come flying out of the cake in all directions, sending crumbs and icing flying in the air and leaving soot on the twin’s faces. their ginger hair is covered neatly with white icing and the fireworks continue for a calamitous five minutes. everyone’s too busy laughing and trying to dodge the flying cake to see that y/n l/n and draco malfoy are laughing quietly in a corner together, both with spells like umbrellas. 

fred’s eyes, however, are trained on y/n, who’s rolling over in laughter. he quickly casts a scourgify on himself and george, and strides casually over to her and malfoy, the usual lazy smirk on his face as he hears ‘draco ohmygosh that was the best. your cake decos are on point! d’ya think he’ll ever bully me again?’. that confirms his suspicions. she did play this prank on him. and it makes him feel fuzzy inside.

his face then contorts into a frown. she thinks he bullies her? 

“i wouldn’t say he bullies you, y/n.”

he smiles. never mind.

“but it isss! i can assure you, there is absolutely nothing nice ‘bout being called a frame!”

fred snorts at the time y/n had been gushing adorably over a picture frame that was embellished with gold and bronze flowers to angelina. he had went over and in an attempt to catch her attention, said ‘you’re a frame’.

sure, he was good at flirting, but not to the girls he really really liked. 

“that’s fucking funny,” malfoy laughs. 

“oh shut it draco, your face is funny. but yeah, i should probably ask him to start fresh.”

he decides to interrupt their conversation. 

“ask who to start fresh?” he butts in. 

y/n doesn’t even look surprised, “in fact, you, fred, because i’m not really sure if i’ve done anything wrong to you or anything, and by my memory i don’t think i have and you keep being rude and stuff. if i have, i’m really sorry for it and i’m sorry that i hurt you and all. if we can y’know, start over, and maybe be friends?” she catches the unreadable look in fred’s eyes and hesitates, “or maybe not, that’s okay, we don’t need to!” she gives a small laugh, “er, sorry for ever bringing it up?”

the earnestness of her tone and the wistful look in her eyes makes fred fall a little harder. ever since he saw her nervously fiddling with her robes in first year, he’s been smitten. 

there’s a silence. malfoy has slipped off, the sneaky bastard. 

fred simply takes y/n’s hand, giving her a look as if to ask for permission. 

she swallows and nods. 

they’re in the courtyard, which is sunny and light. flowers are blooming everywhere. 

“can i kiss you?” fred asks.

y/n’s eyebrows go up. “what?”

“can i kiss you?” fred repeats patiently. 

“as in kiss? k-i-s-s?” y/n asks, eyes wide with suspicion and curiosity.

“yep,” he chuckles, “crazy, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you’re crazy.”

“really? can i kiss you?”

“i’ve never really kissed anyone.”

“i guessed that.”

her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”

“there better be a good reason because i was saving it for someone special.”

“i need a yes, love.”

she huffs, “yes.” she won’t tell him that she has a crush on him, because to be honest, she still isn’t sure if this is a prank or not.

she surprised when fred tilts her head up ever so gently, a smile on his face.

this kiss is short and sweet. he tastes like cinnamon.

when they’ve let go, fred notices the light pink dusted over her cheeks. he smirks. 

“you have to tell me why you thought i’ve never kissed anyone,” she said, eyes flashing in deep thought.

“such a beautiful person as you does not deserve kisses from anyone.”

“...” 

fred took this as a sign to go on. “the reason i’ve always teased you endlessly is because i want your attention. i didn’t think you’d give it to me any other way. if you haven’t noticed, i’m in love with you. i think you’re absolutely beautiful, both ways. i love it when you frown and get annoyed, even if you rarely do, i love it when you study so hard your face makes this really concentrated look. i love it especially when you laugh and smile and joke and play pranks. even if they’re on me.”

“...” she was studying his movements. inside her brain, a frenzy was going on. part of her brain- the ever so optimistic part, was screaming happily, and the logical part was using body language to analyse whether he was lying or not.

eyes? their honey brown colour was glistening with affection and truth, an expression so dainty on his face. 

a quaint little smile was on his lips, a small one, a genuine one. it was different to all the other smiles she’d seen him smile. 

he wasn’t acting, she decided. if he was, he should take up a job in broadway. 

“y/n?”

her brows were furrowed. she’d never been confessed to as genuinely as this before. 

if they started this type of relationship would he still be mean and insult her all the time?

“i-i need time. to figure this out.”

he doesn’t look disappointed, she thinks. instead he looks down at her with... adoration?

“of course, sweetness, anything, i’ll wait for you.”

she smiles, “thank you, freddie.” 

☆

it’s been a few days since fred’s confessed to her. she’s still unsure if he was joking or not. why?

at this moment, she’s watching him giggle with angelina johnson. it seems like he’s forgotten everything and anything. he’s gotten closer to her. maybe he’s lost feelings for y/n? she can’t blame angie, she’s a wonderful girl. if he likes her, that’s fine too. suddenly her feelings for him become very clear. she like-likes him. and it’s a bit too late.

but maybe he doesn’t like angie in that way? maybe he’s still into her? 

y/n knows molly weasley raises her children with patience. she should trust that fred’s waiting for her. 

but then again, she’s never gonna be as special as angie johnson. she’s just a ever so polite and outgoing nerd. someone who’s foolish enough to prank. angie’s smart, confident and funny and terribly patient. and effortlessly beautiful. she’s got the true gryffindor touch. and angie’s been one of fred’s best friends since day one. she’s always gonna be number 1. 

that’s ok. she’ll accept it. she likes angie anyway. it was probably a joke anyway. 

she couldn’t be jealous, just a bit dismayed that it wasn’t genuine. whatever, she thinks. we can just go back to how we were before. or not. 

and it’s relatively easy. they never really saw much of each other anyway. she’ll get over this tiny little liking. 

it’ll just be like normal. none of this happened. none of it. she grimaces bitterly, damning fred for his stupid games. should’ve known this was another of his pranks. but his acting though, certainly very good. 

she smiles to herself.

“knock it off, y/n, you’re here to learn, not to love.”

and that answer, is satisfactory. 

she gets up from her spot on the gryffindor table rather abruptly, saying goodbye to her friends, and makes her way to the kitchens. she knows she won’t be alone, she’ll talk to hansel and gretel, the twins that cook with the house elves every dinner.

they’re cleaning up as she walks in, book in hand. 

“hi hans, g!” she calls, as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweater to help them with the dishes. 

“y/n!” gretel gives her a hug with soapy arms and y/n giggles.

“how are both of you?” y/n asks. 

“good, good, potions though...” hansel trails off and they all laugh.

“potions is always like that,” y/n agrees, “it’s supposed to be really hard for newts, so you can’t really blame the subject.”

“i’m thinking of dropping divination,” gretel says.

“yeah, that’s wise, gretel buns,” hansel teases and gretel scowls. 

“divination is an easy subject, gretel, you just need to make random stuff up. i saw this weird bear thing in polly’s tea leaves, it wasn’t in the textbook. i told trelawney it was a symbol that a stranger would come and whip polly off her feet, with a whip the colour of the rarest german emeralds, leaving her absolutely smitten. i got full marks,” y/n laughs. 

they laugh too, and soon a light flowing conversation is shared over cups of hot chocolate. 

this is repeated for quite a few days and y/n even invites polly, marla and lenox, her best friends, to join. it’s a delicate, nice kind of week, one that suits her current struggles. 

when the weekends roll around, hansel and gretel suggest that they all sit at the hufflepuff table. they share jokes and quips over the food, y/n reading a book as she bites happily into apple pie.

“pfft,” her lips upturn ever so slightly at the quote that the character makes. 

fred watches her from the gryffindor table, utterly confused. y/n’s been avoiding him. he sees the flashes of hurt that run through her eyes whenever she sees him, and the quick grin that’s far too fake that follows. she’s been reading a lot more and he never sees her anymore. 

he wonders what he’s doing wrong. so as he sees her walking with her friends to hogsmeade, he calls for her. 

“y/n!”

her friends giggle as they see him, but she gives him a fleeting glance and raises her eyebrows at them, shaking her head, before profusely apologising to each one of them.

she approaches him warily, with all practicality in mind. she leads with her heart, but her head protects her. 

fool me once, shame on you.

fool me twice, shame on me.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he states.

“what would you expect?” she snaps, “isn’t this all a good laugh for you anyway?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you know what i mean, this was all a joke, wasn’t it? fooling my poor little heart which you know has a crush on you. my head simply won’t allow it. admit it, and we can both move on with our lives,” her tone is sharp and cold, her eyes burning with fury and hurt, “i may seem gullible, and i am,” she gave a short laugh, “but when i notice, don’t even try to lie.”

“this wasn’t a joke, love.”

“don’t call me that, and you and i both know it is. your acting though, absolutely superb!” 

“what makes you think this was a prank, y/n? you were the one who asked for time.”

“yes, and the time made me realise that i had feelings for you despite all the teasing AND the fact you couldn’t possibly be genuine!” y/n says exasperatedly, her fury dissolving quickly, “you looked so in place with angie and everyone that it’s so obviously some sort of fun thing you did to try to get back at me!”

“angie?”

“a-and everyone else.”

“angie?” fred’s eyes were amused.

“you know, angelina, as in johnson.”

“angie?”

y/n shrugs, “you did bring her to the yule ball last year.”

“angie??!!!” fred was full on smirking now, as if trying to receive a real response. 

“i think you like her, okay?! are we done here? i’d very much like a good book from f&b,” y/n sighs. 

“i’ll accompany you to flourish and botts. why would you think i like her? didn’t i just confess to you?”

“yeah but it seemed kinda...” y/n trails off, not wanting her insecurities to come off as compliment fishing, “kinda far-fetched.”

“meaning?” fred knows exactly what she means.

“you know!” 

“oh but i don’t,” he smiles innocently.

“well, you’re you!” 

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he asks, faking a look of hurt rather well as y/n looks alarmed. 

“no, no, as in, you’re nice to look at, and you’ve always insulted me and been so nice and cool to everyone. are you for real?”

“nice to look at?” a cocky grin is on his face now, much more noticeable than the slight blush that was creeping up his face.

“is that the only thing you could pick up?” 

“nice to look at? what’s up with me repeating myself today?”

y/n lets out an agitated sigh. he doesn’t know, he’s blunt and straightforward. she likes cushioning her words.

“y’know, handsome? good looking?”

“my middle names.” another smirk to conceal the blushing. 

y/n smiles. “of course, everyone knows it.”

it makes fred uncomfortable. her light tone is a bit menacing too. 

“only joking.”

“i’m sure everyone does know it, darling.”

y/n is too busy looking at the dog that passes by to hear him, rambling quietly to herself over the cute scottish terrier.

“sorry, what was that?”

“aren’t i cuter than the dog?”

“nup.”

“really?” fred casually slings an arm over y/n’s shoulders, having to stoop a little lower to reach her.

“i think so.”

“well i’ll tell you something love, i think you’re absolutely stunning.”

“some love potion you’re on.”

“uh huh, the love potion is called love, sweetness.”

“so you’re for real?”

“as real as you and me.”

“you’re cheesy. this isn’t a prank right?”

“not at all, i love you.”

“i-i don’t think i love you just yet, but i think it’s possible,” y/n bites her lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

she tilts her head to look at him. 

he’s beaming. he looks more handsome than ever, a sweet smile etched on his face as he looks down at her in utter adoration.

“you have a crush on me!” he pulls her into a hug and giggles like a little girl, kissing the top of her head.

she’s engulfed by the smell of burning wood and cinnamon and immediately feels safe in his strong arms. 

“how’d you say we go on a date? so i can show how sorry i am for all the times i called you googly eyes and played pranks on you.”

“i’ll check to see if the girls are okay with it,” y/n replies, turning her head to see her friends. they’re gone. 

“they are. i asked them to shoo off before i approached you. is that a yes?”

y/n nods, “of course, freddie.”

“i love you.”

she laughs, “you really are april’s fool.”

“i’m your april’s fool.” 

he buries his nose in the crook of her neck to stop her from seeing his blushing red face. 

#fredweasley #fred weasley x y/n #frederick weasley #fred weasley x reader #gryffindor #hansel and gretel #fanfic #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #angelina johnson #alicia spinnet #y/n #harrypotter #hogsmeade