#talking about old games that are being brought back wrong

[grinkening]

Thinking about marathon again…

I could fix Durandal

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you���re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[junosmindpalace]

SHE WANTS YOU!

🎧 you’re proud to be my man, and i won’t let you go!

synopsis: they just can't see what a particular fangirl of theirs is trying to do...with the msby 4!

content: litte bits of insecure reader and little bit of clueless msby. but fears are put to rest. fluffy. casual intimacy. they are Smitten & loyal bfs

total wc: 4k

BOKUTO: Kotaro has always been good at handling difficult people. It just wasn’t in his nature to think the worst of them, and he handles even intentional malice by interpreting it as genuine questions or comments that needed a response to. And so he’d reflect and answer honestly how he felt, and that was often times enough to shut those kinds of people down. 

Even the seemingly most malicious kinds of people Bokuto eagerly approached in a friendly manner and treated as a close friend. That, of course, included his fans. 

He's always been one to enjoy basking in the limelight, being praised for his strengths and acknowledged for his easy going attitude. It was a great bolster to his self-esteem; he loved the people, and boy did they love him. 

It’s because of Kotaro’s easy going attitude that made forming a relationship with him very easy. 

Boundaries can become more easily crossed, but Kotaro doesn’t have very many, which only encourages fans to attempt to see just how far they can tread over the line before they’re pushed back on the other side of it. 

Of course, there was nothing wrong with fan interactions, especially on your end; your heart swelled when you saw the ways his fans supported him and how much joy your boyfriend took in connecting with them. Their support meant just as much as his love for the sport he plays.

But there’s one fan you just can’t help but get a bad feeling from.

It’s more instinctive than anything, but the fact that you’re a little too familiar with her doesn’t sit right with you. She's somehow managed to catch Bokuto at all his events, and talk with him outside of matches before he's due to depart from the arena. She's always eager to catch him, even at the very last second, but since it’s Bokuto, he has no qualms, and happily stays to chat for a couple of minutes before the coach insists the team needs to get a move on. 

And then she’d start to slowly up the physical touch, from brushing her hand against his skin while reaching for something for him to sign, to fully grasping his arm as she laughs at something he said. 

You knew he wouldn’t believe you at first when you brought up your concerns. 

“Really? I mean, I don't blame her for coming back for more; I'm awesome! But she’s only a fan!”

This one particular person you had a bad feeling about was not exempted from your boyfriend's goodwill, despite over time becoming more obvious with her intentions. Eventually, she began treating him like an old friend with some underlying feelings. 

“I don't think she has bad intentions.” he’d answer honestly in response to your concern. Of course, Bokuto doesn’t want to believe that this nice fan of his has an underlying agenda with her eager conversations, but he can at least see that the situation has been stressing you out with each reluctant drop of the subject, lip jutted out as if not fully soothed by his reassurance. 

She’s there in the crowd again, and you know that after the game, no matter the outcome, she’ll go looking for your boyfriend as he sticks around for a couple of interviews to conclude the day, and you dread it. The game goes smoothly, with Kotaro in perfect form, something you know he wasn’t able to achieve very often back in his high school days, and you can’t help but marvel sometimes at the amount of progress he’s made.

When the Jackals eventually file out of the gym after their triumphant win, you make a beeline for each other. He quickly runs to meet you halfway in one of the halls, caught up in his adrenaline high from the game as he wraps his arms around your waist and spins you off the ground. He’s sweaty, and how he still has energy is beyond you, but you don’t care and immediately reciprocate the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Did you see me? Did you see how amazing I was out there?” he badgers excitedly as he puts you down, and you nod with a grin. 

“You did so good, Ko! That spike in the final set was—“ 

“Kotaro! You were incredible!”

Your grip on his forearms immediately tighten, and the two of you both look over your shoulder to see her jogging up to the two of you with a breathless laugh. 

“As always, of course. I knew you’d be able to power through their defense!” 

“Well, not always.” Bokuto let’s out a little laugh and peeks from the corner of his eye at your tense smile. She seems to take notice as well, and hers only widens. 

“Give yourself more credit,” she scoffs playfully. “I noticed even in this game that you—“ 

“I appreciate the kind words, but I can’t stay to chat.” he smiles at her, wide and genuine, and you look down in surprise when you feel his arm wrap around you, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he brings you to his side. 

“My partner here is treating me to a celebratory meal!” 

The two of you both blink in surprise at his words. Typically no matter how crowded his schedule, he always spares a couple of minutes to chat. 

“Oh, well… I suggest this one sushi place nearby. I can pull up the location!”

“That's alright! Y/N already promised to take me to one of my favorite places. It was nice seeing you again!”

And with that, he takes your hand and drags you off with a bounce in his step and a smile still plastered on his face.

There isn’t a single indication that any of his words were fake or had a malicious undertone meant to humiliate her. Only that he was vocal in that he prioritized you over her. 

You gave him a teasing smile. “So, when did I say I'd be treating you?” 

“You mean you won’t?!” he whips his head toward you with a heartbroken expression, as if having fully expected that you’d reward him for his incredible performance. 

“No, no, of course I will. Anything you want.” you grinned, bumping his shoulder as his grip on your hand tightened and his smile widened, and he continued to boast about how great his plays were. 

He later posts a message of thanks to his fans for all the support he received for the match on his socials with a photo of the two of you enjoying your meals. You can now be confident that no other fan will be testing their luck with his boundaries any time soon.

MIYA: Atsumu is solely focused on himself. On his plays. On sharpening his skill. On having his fun.

And, of course, on you. 

Atsumu, as much as it has been stereotyped for him, is not one to look for validation in his fans. Whether they’re a fangirl or an old man in the stands who's watched the game all his life, he does not care for their criticisms nor their compliments. The only people he at all considers feedback from is his coach, his brother, and you. That doesn’t mean he’s immune to what they say about each one of his plays, however. He gets down when the commentators call out a bad play, and pumped when the stadium roars with cheers for him. 

But because of this sort of suave personality of his, people fit him into the mould of a playboy. And because he has such high expectations of the people around him, people have assumed that he had high expectations of his romantic partners as well.

Someone rich, someone famous, someone absolutely drop dead gorgeous. That was who the majority of Atsumu's fans assume is his criteria for a partner. And so, when he’s spotted out with a celebrity he’s been working closely with for a modeling partnership, one that happens to exceed all of those expectations, it’s no surprise that dating rumors regarding the two of them being in secret kahoots start to circulate among not only their individual fanbases, but the sports community as well. 

Multiple comments claiming the encounters to be a “soft launch” made your eye twitch as you encountered them under related posts. You couldn’t help but sometimes find yourself laughing at those who insist that it’s obvious they’re in love with one another. 

Perhaps the celebrity he’s been hanging with was in love with him, as she hasn’t been the least bit shameless in expressing her admiration and adoration for your boyfriend, but Atsumu had not the slightest bit of romantic interest for her. You knew through his exasperated rants about her being difficult and obnoxious. But, of course, nobody else knew. 

Still, he works with her for quite a bit of time. And though you know Atsumu isn’t the type to be disloyal, certainly not toward you, you can’t help but let the rumors get to your head sometimes, and in turn an insecurity manifests in the form of an ache in your chest or a lump in your throat. It doesn't help the fact that this celebrity is constantly posting her time with him online, and “playfully” validating comments that ship the two of them together. 

He tells you to get off of social media when you get down about the situation. It just isn’t worth the mental torture; and besides, their relationship is strictly professional. It's the only reason why she’s so friendly. For a man who loves to bask in whatever praise he’s given, he sure seems oblivious to the very obvious clues she’s been dropping him. He has to believe it’s strictly the guise of accomplishing successful business. 

Still, it’s not like you make a conscious decision to go against his words and subject yourself to further irritation and insecurity. You couldn’t help yourself; you knew very well that, compared to her, you were a nobody. You couldn’t compete with everything she had. 

You slowly started to agree with the comments who argued that they should get together; they do look pretty good together, they are extremely compatible. And above all else, she could probably support him way better than you ever could. You swear to yourself you don’t feel jealous, bitter, petty--not in the slightest.

But the sour expression Atsumu comments on one evening while the two of you lounge on your couch as you yet again scroll through comments claiming your boyfriend would suit someone not like you has you reflecting otherwise. 

“What’s with the look? Reading the news?”

“Mm.” Is your vague reply, eyes not peeling away from the screen in front of you. Atsumu’s curiosity grows, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“What’s it say?” 

A moment of silence between the two of you as you continue scrolling. When you finally process the question and silence, you inhale sharply and finally look up at him, closing your phone and setting it on the coffee table beside you. “No, it’s nothing. Just something online.” 

“Ugh. Don’t tell me you’ve been scrolling through those comments again.”

You shoot him a glare at his insensitivity, but also at how quickly he was to figure it out. The sour look on your face has become synonymous with that topic that Atsumu could easily recognize as the source of your frustration.

“Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He groans as he collapses on top of you, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You grunt in pain at the sudden weight, and still annoyed from his previous comment, you try to pry his face away, which only makes Atsumu stubbornly latch even harder onto you. “Atsumu!”

“I told you, those people have no idea what they’re talking about. She’s insufferable.”

“I know.”

It’s a statement, but the sad tone in which you say it makes Atsumu’s heart sink. He opens his eyes and tilts his head to look up at you, chin digging into the side of your arm. “You’re way prettier.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks.” 

“And your place is nicer. And your food is tastier. And your humor is better than hers.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you feel your heart lighten a little at his attempts at picking you up, and Atsumu feels his own growing lighter, too. “Don’t tell Osamu about the food thing.”

“Oh, no, his is still better than yours.”

“Of course it is.” You reply back as if it were hardly a matter that needed to be debated. 

Atsumu was good at this; making you smile, making you laugh, making you feel loved and wanted. It didn’t take long for him to stomp on the insecurities that managed to manifest in your heart in order to lessen their load on you. He wouldn’t stand for his partner to feel inadequate compared to someone else, especially since Atsumu chose you. You and your wit, your kindness, your passion, your talent, your everything. 

He stays over that night as he often does, and he knows he really shouldn’t do this, but the people he cares about came before anything else. And what’s the worst it could do, really?, responding to a couple of comments?

Needless to say that Atsumu’s replies talking you up about how great you are under his shippers’ comments make headlines on news articles the next day--and show the world just who his heart truly belongs to regardless of who you were. 

HINATA: Much about him is different, upgraded. His technical skill has immensely bolstered since his high school days. He's able to pull off more in games; impressive feats achieved by his lightning quick reflexes and speed, once aiding him in his high school signature quick now aiding him in setting and receiving, sharpened by his intense training in the South. Even his physique is different; still shorter than most players you’d encounter in the realm of volleyball, but he’s grown a few inches and packed muscle all around. If that wasn’t enough proof of his hard work, his tan surely gave away just how much he dedicated himself to the sport with all the time he spent out in the sun training. 

All of these things, along with his impressive performance on the court, have made Shoyo Hinata quite popular, and not simply for what people used to cheer him on for; being the underdog, or one half of a fearsome duo. His journey as a player aided him in his career, and all on his own has he established himself as an indomitable force. 

People admire him for that. You admire him for that. You couldn’t blame the people who were so amazed and star stricken by him; how could you when you were as well?

But sometimes it went overboard, and sometimes it seemed like you were the only person who took notice. Sometimes this one sided observation was accidental; he’s too absorbed in his game; in the blood rushing to his ears, in the thrill of a good game-- that he just doesn’t notice. Sometimes you purposely keep the observation one-sided; these kinds of fans are inevitable, and the rational part of you knows they won’t compromise your relationship by any means. 

There's one enthusiastic interviewer that’s a fan of Shoyo’s, and that he’s very friendly with; as he is with all of them. But this one in particular has managed to latch onto him because of it. You see her and her crew at every one of his games, big or small, and always openly expresses her very immense love for the sport; and for him. 

Of course, Shoyo only understands “volleyball”, and you know that he’s always been giddy over being shown on the front covers or interviewed online, and so he’s always eager to accept a conversation with her, especially since she’s so friendly and knowledgeable.

iIt’s late in yours and Shoyo’s apartment when they run the interviews and live games from a big game earlier that season. As they start to discuss the Black Jackals, you call for him over your shoulder in the kitchen, where he’s preparing dinner.

“Sho, hurry, it’s starting!” 

You can hear the increased urgency in his movements, but they die out as you watch one of his interviews from a very familiar news channel come onto screen. Your boyfriend, from hours earlier, stares happily at the interviewer behind the lens.

“Your skill and strength was absolutely incredible in this game- as it always is. You were also very impressive in high school, you must’ve been really popular—especially with the girls.”

You felt your smile drop slightly, not even hearing the curses coming out of Shoyo’s mouth as he fumbled around in the kitchen. 

The Shoyo on screen chuckled and rubbed his neck. “Oh, no, not really. Many didn’t even believe I was a starter!” 

“Oh, that’s me!” Present Shoyo struggling with your food calls out excitedly from behind the kitchen wall. 

“I know!” you laugh over your shoulder, and you recognize the interviewer’s also intermingling with yours, which only makes your irritation grow. 

“You’re so impressive though, especially now! I'm sure there isn’t a single person out there who wouldn’t want to be with you.” 

You could feel a vein in your head pop and your eye twitch, but you were caught off guard by on- screen-Shoyo’s next words.

“Well, I wouldn’t really know; I have an amazing partner who I'm always looking at, so if there were, I wouldn't have noticed!” he laughed, and it’s so sincere that your heart flutters at the honesty behind it.

“Ohh, that’s so sweet.” you hear the interviewer speak again, and you laugh at the significantly less cheer in her voice. “They must all envy—?“

“Y/N!” he interrupts to introduce you with a cheerful nod. “Yeah, I'm not sure. I know I used to envy their admirers.” he reflects with a short laugh. “But they’re truly my biggest supporter, and always put up with my schedules and drills. There’s one drill in particular actually—“ 

He goes back to droning on about the subject at hand, about his volleyball training and how it impacted his performance in the game, but by the time Shoyo from behind the kitchen wall finally arrives into the living room, the main spokesperson has moved on to discussing other players and matches. 

“Aw, did I miss it?” Shoyo cries disappointedly as he speeds into the room, sliding your plate down on the coffee table in front of you and taking a seat beside you on the couch with his own. 

You grin at him, mind still on his words from before and you nudged him. “Took you long enough.”

“You could’ve helped.” he grumbles and you kiss his cheek sympathetically with a small sorry, and from the way he brightens and his cheeks tint pink, you can tell you’re immediately forgiven. 

And as he gushes in awe of the other players’ highlights and interviews, a small part of you can’t help but think back on his words and feel a little smug with yourself when you also remember the interviewer’s awkward disposition after he had brought you up. You can’t help but be comforted to know that the innocent mention of you was not only a reminder to her, but to those like her, that his heart was fully committed to you and only you.  

SAKUSA: If there was one aspect of Sakusa’s career he particularly disliked, it was the fans. 

It was evident that he couldn’t care less about the fame he had or the things people were willing to do for him or had to say about him (unless they were directly interfering with his life), and you couldn’t help but feel some sort of relief to know Kiyoomi would not spare a single glance at some of his more fiercely devoted fans.

Yet of course, your problem had to lie outside of that realm.

Your problem was not an avid fan, who had the circumstances of a parasocial relationship to comfort you, but a colleague of Kiyoomi’s whom the Jackals worked pretty closely with; and happened to be quite a fan of your boyfriends.

You felt bad getting worked up over something so petty, but her persistence in trying to extend her relationship with Sakusa into something friendlier couldn’t help but sound off alarm bells in your head. You already knew that your boyfriend had a million other nuisances to deal with, and you had no intention of adding onto that list with your selfishness and unjustified uneasiness, especially when you knew your boyfriend had strict boundaries he wouldn’t compromise for anyone. 

Well, almost anyone. 

She was shamelessly unprofessional at times, attempting to emulate your affectionate behavior towards him in hopes that she’ll receive the same sort of submissive response that only you could get out of him. 

Your boyfriend, for the sake of keeping good business, tolerated the over-friendliness, and saw it as nothing more than an attempt at trying to seem more casual and easy going in a business setting. 

You’ve attempted to subtly bring up your discomfort at times when she got too out of hand for your liking, typically when the two of you were in the car or lounging around at home. You’d ask his thoughts about her behavior or her personality, to which he respond with something that amounted to the conclusion that: “she’s just doing her job.” 

She’s tagged along on one of the away games that you so happen to also be coming along on. She's been quite enthusiastic on sharing her research on the area they’re staying in to him, and she doesn’t spare a single detail as he prepares to head out for the day. 

“--and apparently the food in this area is extremely good. Everyone says that you can’t visit without trying it. There’s this restaurant in particular not too far from the training center! I’m sure I can get the two of us reservations before we--” 

“Why would we do that?” he asks suddenly, obviously already irritated by her incessant conversation, turning toward her with a frown. 

Her expression is one of shock and slight embarrassment for a moment before she recollects herself. 

“Just…you know, to sample the cuisine!”

“Is it business related?”

Again, blunt and to the point, the woman needs a moment before she responds.

“Well--”

“My partner and I have plans while we’re in the area. You can talk to my manager about scheduling a meeting regarding any matters you have to discuss. I've already discussed with them my availability.” 

You start to approach him as he finishes setting the remainder of his gear into his training bag, and the woman yet again tries to recollect herself after suddenly being met with the fact that Kiyoomi was already taken. He looks up at you waiting for him by the gymnasium doors, and doesn’t even spare the woman a single glance or wave before making his way over.

He bumps your shoulder as he strides in step with you, mumbling “let’s get out of here.” and then “are your hands clean?”

And when you mumble a yeah in response, he reaches down to take one in his, intertwining your fingers and leaving just enough room for the woman watching your backs to be able to see the rare show of affection. 

You’re caught off guard by the sudden pda, and glance over your shoulder, then back at him in confusion. He feels your quizzical gaze on him and sighs exasperatedly. “She wasn’t just doing her job…”

You couldn’t help but hum a little pleased with yourself, puffing out your chest a little when you realized that she didn’t get her way, and squeeze his hand a little tighter. He shoots you a look at you a little with a roll of his eyes and squeezes back. “We’re going back to the room.”

“Actually, I heard there was a really nice restaurant around here. I was thinking of trying to get us reservations.”

He stared down at your eager smile and bright eyes and found his resolve waning the longer he did so. He turned his gaze back toward the front. “Okay. Room first, though.” 

[cloudybarnes]

ex best friend

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader

Summary: when you were younger, Draco was your best friend. some years had passed, and the two of you had found yourselves estranged. one day, after a lost quidditch game for the Slytherin team, you find yourself drawn to Draco once again, hopeful to see where things had gone wrong for you two

Word Count: 1.8k+

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

“Go Harry! Go Ron!” You shouted. Hermione cheered, clapping as loudly as she could. 

The first Quidditch match of the season. Ron was doing amazing as goalkeeper, and Harry was whizzing through the stadium on the hunt for the golden snitch. 

They were playing against your house, Slytherin. Even though you were a slytherin, that didn’t mean you necessarily had to root for them. You were best friends with the Golden Trio. Even though you were Slytherin, you always stood up for them against the rest of your house which led to them becoming your best friends. 

“Look!” Hermione shouted, “Harry’s almost got it!” 

Harry and Draco were going head to head for the snitch, but Harry was just that much closer to catching it. All of the sudden, Harry fist wrapped around the snitch. The Gryffindor section exploded with cheers and applause. You and Hermione jumped out of your seats. 

“Let’s go!” Someone around you shouted. 

Hermione wildly clapped her hands as the Gryffindor team surrounded Harry in cheers and laughter. “Come on,” she urged, pulling you down the bleachers, “let’s go catch up with them.”

You chuckled, and followed her down the bleachers and out of the stadium where you would wait for Ron and Harry. 

As you walked out, you couldn’t help but notice Draco coming out as well. He seemed to be the first from the Slytherin team to leave the stadium. Almost as if sensing you stare, he looked up and made direct eye contact with you. 

You and Draco had been best friends your first two years at Hogwarts. When you were younger, everything seemed to be easier. Draco had been quite mean to Hermione, Ron, and Harry, and as a result, you grew apart from him. 

Still, you couldn’t help but care for Draco. You remembered how sweet he had always been to you, how close you guys were, and how many nights you two would sneak out to the halls to cause mischief together. Quite honestly, you miss him. While you love being friends with the Gryffindors, Draco had been your best friend, and it sucked not being close to him any longer. 

“Hermione,” you said, “I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit. Are we still gonna study for the potions exam, later?”

Hermione glanced over your shoulder, then looked back at you with a bit of a worrisome face. “Yeah, we can meet in the library around 7. Are you, uh, gonna have a chat with Draco?”

Hermione was the only one who knew you missed your friendship with Draco. While she never really understood it, what with him being so rude to her, she never made you feel bad about missing him. 

You hadn’t really talked to Draco all that much in the past year, just some small things here and there, but not like you used to. 

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna try.” You gave her a small smile and turned back toward where you had last seen Draco. He was walking away from the stadium towards an old cherry blossom tree the two of you used to conspire under. 

Your heart swelled a little. You really did miss him, and seeing him in a place so familiar to you and to your friendship brought a wave of sadness over you. You took off in stride to catch up with him. 

Draco sat under the tree, watching you as you approached. 

A little awkwardly, you sat down next to him and leaned against the large trunk of the tree. You cleared your throat, “I saw the game. You put up a good fight.”

He shook his head, his hair falling slightly into his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure you were just so devastated when Potter caught the snitch instead of me.” The sarcasm reeked from his lips, but he didn’t seem angry. He sounded quite the opposite. You weren’t sure if he was sad or just felt defeated. It was a strange look from him; one you hadn’t had the privy of seeing from him. 

“Just because I root for Gryffindor on occasion, doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing you lose. I’m still Slytherin, I still have house pride.” 

Draco scoffs at that. “You haven’t had house pride in a long time, (Y/N).”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ouch, Draco. Going straight for my throat, huh?”

He just shook his head and looked away, staring off into the distance. The breeze picked up, shaking the leaves of the tree, causing a few to fall at your feet. 

“Dray,” you said softly. Draco’s eyes dart to your face. His mouth hung open ever so slightly at the nickname you used to call him. “What’s going on with you? You’ve never been one to sit around and sulk.”

He shrugged. “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

“I don’t believe that. The Draco I know wouldn’t have come out here in disappointment. He would have stormed to the common room and figured out exactly where he went wrong to ensure he beat those pesky Gryffindors the next time.”

Draco chuckled. “Weird hearing you call the Gryffindors ‘pesky’. You’ve always been so kind to everyone, no matter their house.”

You shrugged with a soft smile. “You must be rubbing off on me, then.”

He shook his head. “Not sure that that’s such a good thing, (Y/N/N).” 

Your heart melted at the use of your old nickname. Draco was the only one to ever call you that, and when you stopped talking, your nickname died with your friendship. You couldn’t help but think about what used to be with Draco. 

“What happened to us, Dray? How did we grow so far from each other?”

Draco rubbed his hands down his face, like he was nervous. “You’re not like any other Slytherin I know, (Y/N). Sure, you’re cunning, you can be clever at times, and as I recall, you’re quite the prankster.” He smirked. “The rest of us, though, can be quite mean and outright nasty at times. You’re not like that at all. I guess when you started to become friends with Potter and started to stick up for them, I kind of realized how different we were.”

“So my being friends with them caused us to stop being friends?” You couldn’t believe it. You knew that by sticking up for them, it caused a drift between you and Draco, but you didn’t want to think you had been ostracized because of it. 

“It’s not just that.” Draco sighed. He looked into your eyes, and you could see something swirling within them. It looked a lot like regret and sorrow. He seemed to struggle to get his next words out. “I felt like… like I wasn’t good enough for you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m better than Potter and his group of ragdoll friends in a lot of ways. I think just not in the way that you needed.”

You didn’t know what to think. You stared at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Draco, you’re gonna have to explain it to me better.”

He growled in frustration. “Just forget it, (Y/N). This was stupid. I don’t even know why I came over here.”

He went to stand up, but you grabbed onto his hand and held him in place. Draco’s head whipped to gape at you. 

“Don’t do that, Draco. We were friends long enough for me to know what’s going on. Don’t shut me out, because I really just can’t do this again.” Your voice quivered slightly. “You might not realize this, but it broke my heart when we stopped being friends, Dray. You weren’t just my friend, you were my best friend. I never imagined we would end up the way we are now, barely speaking to each other, very curt, very much like acquaintances.”

“I’m not like them, (Y/N)!” Draco shouted. He raked his hands through his hair. “I’m not good like them. I don’t see things the way they do, they way you do. I was only going to bring you down, and I couldn’t let that happen. Godric knows I can be awful, but never in my life did I want to see my awfulness rub off onto you. You’re sweet, (Y/N), you’re kind, and you deserved someone kind, someone loyal, someone-”

“I just wanted you, Draco!” 

The words on Draco’s lips silenced as you let out your confession. He stared at you, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”

You huffed. “I just wanted you. If you had explained all of this to me when it went down, I would have told you that you didn’t need to be good. You didn’t need to be anything other than yourself, because I liked you. If I had to choose between you and them, I would have chosen you a thousand times over, Draco. You were always my first choice.”

“You liked me?”

Your cheeks blushed. You tried to shrug your shoulders as if to brush it off. “Yeah. You were my best friend. You were the only person that really understood me. You cared about me. How was I not supposed to like you?”

“And what about now?” Draco asked. “How do you feel about me now?”

Draco placed his hand on top of yours. He leaned in slightly like he was trying to make sure he heard every word you said. 

Your heart pounded in your chest. How did you feel about him? 

“I miss you. I know that.” You confessed. “I know I still think about you. I know I long for the nights where we snuck out of our rooms to see each other. I miss seeing you everyday. Sometimes I feel like-”

His lips were soft. 

Draco’s mouth moved slowly against yours, like he was afraid if he pressed too hard it would break the intimacy of what was happening. You kissed him back gently, slowly guiding your hand up to the blonde of his hair. 

Draco softly ran his fingers up your arm to your back where he held onto you. 

Kissing Draco felt like the easiest thing in the world. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

When Draco pulled away, you could see the biggest grin adorning his face. His cheeks were slightly pink, and his eyes shined like no tomorrow. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, (Y/N/N). You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, or how much I wished something like this would happen between us.”

You giggled, your own cheeks turning shades of pink. “You know, if you hadn’t lost that Quidditch match, we probably wouldn’t have been here right now.”

Draco chuckled, and pulled you close to wrap you in his arms. Softly, he whispered, “I’d lose every Quidditch match if it meant we could always be like this.”

“You don’t have to lose any matches, Draco. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

[sleepysnk]

a/n: after much time relaxing, i am back! thank you guys for waiting and being patient while on my break. i appreciate it a lot :). i hope you all enjoy this! <3 mitsuya was highly requested and i wanted to give him a shot!

pairings: mitsuya takashi x fem!reader

warnings: best friend!mitsuya, some angst, mentions of previous talking stages, brief mention of ran haitani x reader, mentions of food, mentions of jealousy, confessions, nsfw, smut, car sex, use of pet names (baby, princess, my girl, good girl), rough(ish) sex turning vanilla, brief spanking, praising, dirty talk, creampie, some fluff.

synopsis: you and mitsuya had been best friends since high school. you did it all together and you both had become inseparable. mitsuya’s feelings soon turned romantic quicker than he expected, but he would only watch from afar as your “best friend.” one day, when your failed talking stage goes south, he decides he’s had enough of hiding those feelings and shows you himself how much he cares about you.

just friends? ft. mitsuya takashi

Meeting Mitsuya Takashi and having him as your best friend did so many wonderful things in your life.

The two of you had been friends since you were both freshmen in high school. Your friendship had begun when you entered your sewing class which was your second to last period of the day. Like many freshmen who enter high school, you were very jittery and nervous. You had already had a stressful day adjusting to the changes high school had brought to you, and all you desired was to go home and lay in bed. This was going to be your life for the next four years and those shifts in the environment really messed with you. You had already messed up by entering the wrong classroom and were almost late to your third period. 

When you entered the small classroom, your eyes wandered for an empty seat. Some of them had been claimed by others, but there was a free one in the back with a lavender-haired male sitting beside it. 

You hardly expected a guy to be in a sewing class. Not that you had a problem with him being there or anything, but not many guys were interested in fashion classes. However, despite that, you stepped to the back of the classroom and plopped down beside the boy. He didn’t bat much of an eye at you, and he seemed to be lost in thought. He looked to be around your age too, but nonetheless he kept to himself. You didn’t blame him either. It was quite difficult for you to make conversation with other people, especially other freshmen. 

Once the bell had rang, your teacher had introduced herself and began going over the course and welcoming anyone who was new to sewing. It was the same old introduction that was quite repetitive, so you sort of tuned her out while she talked about how she understood how stressful it might be and crap like that. You knew that facade would drop once the middle of the semester had begun. However, you quickly paid attention when you heard her spit out a few words that made any new freshmen nervous. 

“This is a bit of a social class! So, I’d like you to introduce yourself to the person beside you!”

Your heart rate had spiked at that. You had spent the entirety of your day introducing yourself to random classmates, or playing those stupid “get to know me” games. It had become quite exhausting doing such things. You would hardly speak with those people over your next four years, so you didn’t see why it was so necessary to do such a thing. Though, wanting to avoid being in trouble, you decided to turn towards the boy sitting next to you. Much to your surprise, he was already facing you with a friendly grin on his face. It relieved your anxiety seeing him do such an action. Sometimes, people didn’t give two shits about doing those chats with their classmates and just gave off the most awkward vibes ever, making it so much harder to even converse with them. 

“I’m Mitsuya Takashi, you?”

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

“What made you pick this class?”

“It looked.. interesting? I also wanted to learn to sew.. what about you?” 

“I want to become a fashion designer.”

Hearing those words made you all the more interested in becoming friends with Mitsuya Takashi. Eventually, a great friendship did form between you both. You two had become partners in sewing class and did projects with one another whenever it came up. You both had discovered you had the same lunch hour, so you often sat with him and talked about whatever had come up. The two of you had become quite the pair and learned so many things about one another. He had two baby sisters he took care of after school and he had a dream of becoming a fashion designer. It was so nice listening to him talk about different clothing items he wanted to create once he had the opportunity. Mitsuya was truly a great friend to have. 

Days turned to weeks, to months, to four years later. 

Your friendship had lasted all throughout high school. There were some bumps in the road, but you and Mitsuya had gone through hell and back with one another. He had been there for every little thing that had happened. Whether it was drama with friends, receiving your driver's license, gossip about the different guys in your classes, or even stuff about your parents, he was there for you whenever you needed him. You considered him your best friend, and he thought the same of you. The two of you were a great duo and you were blessed to have such an amazing friend like him. He never made you feel annoying or uncomfortable. It was something many people in the past had made you feel, and you were thankful he wasn’t one of them.

Both of you decided to attend the same university together too. Despite your majors being the complete opposite, you both continued going to school together. Some people called you crazy for doing such a thing, but you two loved the idea of having at least one knowledgeable person on campus. Mitsuya also had a great scholarship there as well, so it benefited him heavily. 

Little did you know, Mitsuya had feelings that weren’t just platonic.

Mitsuya knew it was somewhat wrong to develop feelings for you. You two were best friends. He knew that you would never see him in such a manner, but he just couldn’t help himself. He had developed feelings back when you both were freshmen. You were one of the first girls to ever speak to him in such a kind hearted nature. You were so pure and sweet, and your intentions were never malicious with him. He loved talking with you, and you had become such an important person in his life. He didn’t want to admit that he liked you. He ran the risk of potentially ruining your friendship if you didn’t feel the same way about him, so he kept his mouth shut about anything romantic. There were times he’d try and hint at his feelings, but it always went over your head and he feared your rejection of him.

He would always sit back from afar and watch you. He honestly wished he could come clean, because the secret was practically tearing him apart. He had so many thoughts about you it almost hurt him that he couldn’t say anything. 

With unbeknownst feelings, came other eyes to wander on you while Mitsuya stayed fixated. 

There were many guys in your school that had crushes on you, or you had feelings for. Mitsuya would listen to you talk and gossip about the ones you really liked in your classes. He knew listening to you made him feel worse than he already did, but you two were best friends. He didn’t want to tune you out just because of some selfish desire he had for you. He often envied the guys who got to know you on a romantic level. He wished it was him you were talking about every night. To be called handsome or cute by you would make him melt, but he knew that day would probably never come to be. Mitsuya was bummed, but he never wanted to leave your side. Dropping you for something so silly would probably hurt you more than anything else. He loved being your best friend. You truly blessed him in this life.

Now, as grown adults, you both faced many chances for romantic partners. There were several girls that Mitsuya had tried to speak to, but none of them were ever you. They didn’t laugh at his corny jokes or find interest in his little sisters. Some were just looking for a quick hookup, and usually by the end of it he was feeling guilty and not satisfied whatsoever. No one compares to you. He knew that, yet he still tried to continue finding somebody else that could numb those feelings for a little while. The same went for you as well. There were many men who sought you out throughout your first two years in university. Some of them had great intentions, while the others were not so great. The same theme always occurred. Mitsuya listening in on the random guys who made their moves on you. 

However, there was one occasion in particular that had Mitsuya a little alarmed.

One day, you and Mitsuya had met up on campus to study for some finals. You were both in the same math class and you had an upcoming test you had to do well on for your GPA to look nice for the next semester. While trying to study, you both began talking about your days and how it had gone. Mitsuya was listening but the mention of a certain name had made him pause completely in his notes.

“This guy.. Ran Haitani? He’s so hot! He gave me his number today!”

The pen in his hand almost snapped when you mentioned Ran Haitani of all people. Mitsuya had heard plenty of things about the man on campus. He was a year older than you two and he was kind of a heart throb on campus. He partied a lot and every girl swooned over the Haitani brother. Mitsuya never cared much for drama with other guys. If they wanted to play around with people’s feelings, then so be it. He just never liked to be included in such activities. However, hearing that you were involved completely shifted the story. He didn’t want you to possibly get hurt or end up in some crappy situation. You were never really involved in drama like that with guys or even girls for that matter, but he knew full well that Ran would lead you into something bad. He wasn’t the nicest guy and he probably had some malicious intent behind his words. 

Mitsuya contemplated on what he should do. He didn’t want to be a bad best friend and possibly hide information about Ran that could be crucial to your opinion on him, but he didn’t want you thinking he was doing anything out of bad intent. 

“I dunno if that’s a good idea, (Y/N). I haven’t heard the greatest things.”

Initially, his response confused you and he could see it written all over your face. Mitsuya had never spoken against other guys before, so it was very much a surprise to see him doing such a thing now. He feared at that moment he had done something wrong, considering you had been quite silent since he had replied to you. He just wanted to be as honest and crystal clear with you as possible. The last thing he’d want was that idiot Ran guy messing with your feelings. You had a big heart. Mitsuya knew that fully well, but he wouldn’t want anyone else messing around with it like it was a toy. 

“I just.. think he’s cute! That’s all! Plus, it’s not anything serious. Maybe it will be fun, Mitsuya!”

He wished it was just fun to you.

However, like a majority of your talking stages, they never really went anywhere. Ran Haitani was one of them. 

Mitsuya had no clue what happened until you phoned him earlier in the night. You sounded quite annoyed and upset over the entire situation with Ran. He had apparently ghosted you for some reason, and you had no idea why. It was frustrating to Mitsuya to hear such things. These lame guys leaving you for no goddamn reason pissed him off more than he would like to admit. There was so much to like about you. You had this amazing personality and your beauty only went along with that. There should have been guys kissing the ground you walked on. Not ghosting and leaving you for other girls that weren’t even on your level of awesome. He wished he could just tell you how he felt, but there was this devil on his shoulder that told him otherwise not to. It made him so angry, but all he could do was bite his tongue on the matter.

Mitsuya never wanted to admit jealousy. You were your own person, but his roommate, Hakkai, was very quick to point it out. He tried telling his close companion about what had gone down with Ran, and his response didn’t necessarily make it any better. 

“You’re jealous.. that’s what I’m reading here.”

Those words annoyed Mitsuya. Maybe deep down he envied those men that had their eyes on you, but jealousy? No way. 

Being the best friend he was to you, he tried his best to give you the best advice he could on the situation. He told you that Ran didn’t deserve you and that he was truly missing out on what a great girl you were. All you did was thank him and you two had made plans that following weekend to hang out. Mitsuya wished you took his words more seriously, because they were true. Assholes like that never deserved to see how great of a person you were. If he had it his way, he would have knocked them on their asses, but alas, he could never do such a thing. Not without practically spilling his guts out to you about how he’s wanted to date you since he was fourteen years old. 

He did look forward to hanging out with you, though. You were one of the few people Mitsuya genuinely enjoyed hanging out with outside of his classes. You brought so much happiness to the man, so much so he wished he could tell you all about it. 

However, he didn’t expect what was to come once he picked you up that day.

Your hangout with Mitsuya had started pretty casual and normal. He had picked you up from your dorm and you both went out to eat. He ended up choosing the spot that time since you had the chance the previous occasion. It was fairly nonchalant. You spoke about new assignments you had to get done and even brought up a vacation your mother had planned for you over the summer. Mitsuya didn’t have much to say about summer break. He usually had to take care of his sisters while his mom worked the entire day, but he did agree to make plans with you while school wasn’t in session. You guys were practically attached to the hip over summer break. It was hard to find a moment when you two weren’t out and about on the streets with one another.

You two had eventually finished your food and paid for your meals. Once you left the restaurant, you two had gone for a bit of a drive around town. The day was perfect too. The weather was clear and warm, and there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. It had to be one of the greatest days you guys have had in a while.

Once the sun had begun to retire for the day, you guys had traveled to one of your favorite lookout spots in all of town. It was a small clearing that was at the top of a hill. It displayed all of the lights and if you looked far enough you would be able to see the city twinkling in the distance. You guys adored coming up there every now and then, especially when the sunset was pretty. You both began talking about random stuff that was on your mind. Whether it was school or summer plans, you always had something to talk about with one another. Mitsuya always paid great attention to you. You were always so cute when you spoke about something you were passionate about. He could listen to your voice forever if it meant he got to see your smiling face whenever he replied to you. 

Though, Mitsuya hadn’t expected to end up in the backseat with you doing something that was completely shocking to him.

You were both in the back. Your thighs were on either side of him while his cock was buried inside your creamy pussy. Slick trailed down his shaft from how wet you had gotten. Your arms were wrapped around Mitsuya’s neck while he bounced you on his dick. His hands never left the plush of your hips. The grip he had on you was tight enough that it could leave a bruise on your delicate skin. You were so fucking tight. He spent so many nights fantasizing about what it would be like to fuck you in his car, or even on his bed. He never imagined a moment like this would ever come to be. Your pretty tits in his face, gorgeous voice calling out his name like it was a prayer. You were truly a sight to see, and he felt blessed being able to see it.

His pace was set at a rough one. His cock was bullying your walls and practically splitting you apart with each thrust. You didn’t think Mitsuya was that big but my god it was. He was finding all of the spaces and areas that made your eyes roll back into your skull. “M-Mitsuya..! Oh my god!” your hold around his neck tightened as the pleasure increased in your gut. He was doing everything to make you see stars, and you were living for it. 

Your voice calling his name set that fire within him ablaze. He began to roll your hips on his cock, watching with every move how your body reacted to him. Mitsuya gritted his teeth from how greatly you were sucking him in. Your walls clenched and twitched with every inch of his cock entering you. You were taking him so well. Mitsuya had this regret of not informing you sooner of his feelings, or even making an attempt to fuck you. You were like an angel sent from heaven itself just for him. So perfect and beautiful that it was no wonder why all of these men at school foamed at the mouth for such a pretty woman like you. He was finally savoring the feeling of what it’s like to fuck you, and he couldn’t believe it was this exhilarating. What a fucking beauty you were. “Ah! That’s it, princess! Takin’ my cock like such a good girl..” he then landed a slap against the fat of your ass. “F-Fuck.. can’t get enough of you, baby!”

His praise only made you squeeze him harder, earning several grunts from the man. He took a mental note of that and continued fucking you at that pace. You hissed when that sting came from his palm, but nonetheless, it faded into pleasure as he continued rutting into you. 

He wasn’t sure how things led up to this moment. You were both sitting back there, watching the sun disappear behind the clouds. It was an activity you both had indulged in several times since you both became friends. You were conversing about random things and, before he knew it, Mitsuya had kissed you. He completely lost his self control and you both began making out with each other. He tried to apologize for invading your personal space and pause before things went in another direction, but you hushed him by grinding onto his aching cock and pressing your lips against his own. Mitsuya could hardly believe that it was finally happening, but you were just too addictive for him to say no. He had been wanting a moment like this for so fucking long that letting it slip through his fingers would fill him with regret. God, he wanted you so fucking badly.

Both of you were in complete bliss. Mitsuya was showing no signs of stopping, but to be fair, you didn’t want him to stop. He was placing you on cloud nine with how great his cock was. It had been such a long time since you had sex this great. You weren’t sure why it was hitting differently. Maybe it was because you were fucking your best friend of almost six years in the back of his car. There were a few times where you thought about what Mitsuya would be like in bed. You never shared those thoughts out loud, but they often plagued your brain more often than you would like to admit. 

The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the car. Mitsuya’s hands squeezed the underside of your thighs while his cock kissed your g-spot rapidly. Sharp gasps filled his ears whenever he reached that button inside of you. He smirked to himself knowing he had found it and continued abusing it. “Shit.. you like that, baby? Heh.. bet I fuck you b-better than those assholes you mess with, yeah..?” he reached forward and squeezed your throat with his hand, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Tell me, baby, tell me I’m better..” 

Though your breathing was slightly labored due to his grip on your throat, you managed to open your mouth to speak. “Y-Yes! You’re – ah! – so much better, Mitsuya..!” you nodded your head, desperation dripping from your voice. 

He released the hold on your throat and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. Your lips were so soft and puffy. He didn’t want to ever stop kissing you. Your hands tangled themselves into his lilac hair, tugging and pulling at the strands from how high the ecstasy made you feel. Mitsuya swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to enter your mouth. Once your lips parted, his tongue darted into it and the kiss became deeper. He swallowed down all of those delicious moans and cries of pleasure. He almost chuckled when he felt you struggling to kiss him back. He was hardly doing that much to you, and you were already weak for him? How fucking cute of you. He knew you would be a total sight during sex. Mitsuya envied any guy that fucked you before he did. They probably didn’t pay attention to the most beautiful parts of you. Like the way you gasped whenever he touched your g-spot, or the way your pretty skin felt under his fingertips. Not him, no, he paid attention to every little detail there was on you.

His heart had been betraying him that entire time. It screamed to pour out those feelings he had been trying to mask for the last few years. Mitsuya Takashi was madly in love with you, his best friend. He yearned to finally let his real self be shown to you, but he feared so much. You could easily reject him and never speak to him again, but he wanted to be a part of your life whether as your best friend or your boyfriend.

Mitsuya was cracking and he finally reached a point where he could no longer conceal that side of him. He had to tell you. He was practically burying himself inside your guts right now, and the excitement of it all was pushing him to do such a thing. “F-Fuck.. (Y/N).. I love you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. He made direct eye contact with you. Your eyes were clouded with pleasure and, to be honest, it didn’t seem like his words had registered through your brain. “‘Love you so much.. I can’t h-hide it anymore..”

Your eyes went wide at his statement. You had no idea that Mitsuya felt that way towards you. You thought his love for you was platonic and more brother-like, but romantic? You hardly expected those words to slip from his lips. It was a lot for you to process, especially since your brain was quite literally mush at that moment. If anything, sleeping with him proved that you felt the same way towards your best friend. You knew your feelings for Mitsuya weren’t just regular ones anymore. The way you thought of him, the amount of time you spent with him. There was a reason you wanted to be around Mitsuya more than any other guy. It may have not been love, but your heart pushed in his direction more than anything else. 

Your silence made Mitsuya’s heart drop inside his chest. He worried that you didn’t see him in such a light, and it was honestly embarrassing. However, he knew this was probably the reality of his situation. You didn’t feel the same and he was okay with that. Those thoughts were quickly interrupted when you pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn’t rough or aggressive by any means. If anything, it felt real and he swore he saw sparks fly when your lips connected with his. His thrusts soon slowed and your hips were now slowly rolling along his cock, earning a few grunts from him. Just as quickly as you kissed him, you pulled away to look at your best friend. “I like you.. Mitsuya.” your face burned with those words escaping your lips. 

He was in a state of shock. He couldn’t believe you were being truthful with him. He could easily tell when you were lying to him about something, but you were so fucking genuine that it made him want to jump for joy. Instead of saying anything else, he pulled you in by your neck to kiss you. “Come here, baby..” he whispered, then captured your lips with his. He then began to slowly rut his hips up into you. Those relentless thrusts turned savory and slow, allowing both of you bathe in each other’s embrace properly.

His hand rested on your waist, guiding you as you rode his cock. You were getting close to your high. That knot inside your belly was tightening with each thrust of his hips. You sought that release more than anything else. Mitsuya could sense it too. Your body was behaving in such a manner that practically gave it away. You were becoming whiny and your thighs were beginning to tremble beside him. He wanted to give you such a great orgasm that you wouldn’t need another man to do it for you. Only he could do such a thing to your body. 

Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder. The white hot pleasure in your gut had you practically crying his name. You pulled away, disconnecting the kiss between you two. Mitsuya saw how needy you were for him and his cock. He thought you looked so fucking gorgeous like that. “M-Mitsuya..” you whimpered, making eye contact with the man sitting before you. “Please.. fuck.. ‘m gonna cum. Need you so badly..!” 

Mitsuya increased his pace just a little, allowing you to inch closer and closer towards that desire you had within you. He watched your jaw fall slack and several high pitched moans slip from your lips. “C’mon.. be a good girl, princess.” he then began toying with your puffy clit, causing your hips to buck at the doubled pleasure. “Never gonna let anyone break your heart again..! I promise to t-take – ah! – good care of you.. you’re my girl..” 

Within seconds, your pussy clamped around his dick. Your orgasm rippled through you harder than you had expected. Your entire body began to shake and a loud cry of pleasure filled the car, bouncing off the walls. Mitsuya had also reached his high with you as well. His cum filled your cunt, covering your walls with sticky white seed. A mess had coated the base of his cock. The creamy white ring circled around it, allowing several noises to be heard as he slowed his thrusts down. He honestly couldn’t believe that you two had done such a thing with one another. However, he had zero regrets doing what he did. He was finally able to come clean with not just you, but also himself. He needed that release more than anything else. 

You slumped against his body. Your body was quite tired and you were twitching from your climax. Mitsuya’s hand landed behind your back, rubbing small circles on your skin. The temperature inside the vehicle had gradually increased from your activities, so the heat was uncomfortable. Sweat clung to your skin, leaving a small shine to your flesh. Neither of you gave much care, though. All you could think about was each other. 

You turned your face so you could press a small kiss against Mitsuya’s cheek. He couldn’t hide the smile that had formed on his features when your soft lips made contact with his skin. He held your body tighter against his own, making you feel safe with the man. “I meant what I said..” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut. “I really do like you, Mitsuya.”

He chuckled, resting his head against your own. “I meant it too, (Y/N).”

[scandinavianfairytale]

Old feelings die hard

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Reader

Warnings: None 💙

It was his first match back at home. Manchester. He knew it'll be bad. He knew no one besides his mom and Jerry would be happy to see him.

Though his mind kept thinking of you.

Would you spare a kind word? A flash of a smile for him? Or maybe even a hug. But he didn't dare to hope. All he knew was that he wanted to find you. See you again.

Apologize.

So before the team got up for the morning practice, he put on his hoodie and jogged all the way to the café he knew you owned.

And there you were.

He stopped at the big window and stared at your smiling face as you prepared the shop to open. It was amazing to see you so content, and he was so proud. You really made it - you had your own coffee shop and a good one, according to Google reviews. It was a cozy place, walls lined with books and plants, all your favorite things. His will was wavering and his anxiety was rising, his chest heaving. But he needed to do this. It was now or never.

He entered the café carefully, and he heard you humming to yourself as the steamer made its normal high-pitched noise. You busied yourself around the coffee machine, completely oblivious to the fact that you had company observing your every move.

Jamie was trying to think of a way to pull you out of your world, but he couldn't think of a justifiable reason. You looked so happy, reaching for cups and different coffee beans. That is until you finally turned around to fill the cookie jar on the counter and let out a shriek of surprise as you found a person standing inside the still closed coffee shop.

"Jamie fucking Tartt. As I live and breathe." You finally smiled as you realized who was standing in front of you. Making your way around the counter you wrapped your arms around him. Jamie was taken aback by the sudden hug but once the initial shock wore off his hands grabbed your torso and brought you even closer to him.

"Matcha latte?" You asked as you sat him down at one of the tables at the back. With just one look at him, you knew feeding him coffee would be a bad idea.

"Sure."

"How have you been?" He asked as he waited and stared at you.

"Busy. You know how it is." You flashed him a smile, but didn't linger. "How have you been? I saw that Richmond is making stride, congrats!"

"Yeah..." Jamie didn't sound as confident or cocky as you were used to, so your head immediately snapped back from the matcha and you finally took him in. Properly this time. Before, you just assumed it might be before-game-jitters.

"Jamie, what's wrong?" You asked concerned.

"I've been meaning to contact you for a while now." He paused and met your eyes. "I've been a shit person. You didn't deserve it and I never got to say it when I got the chance, but...I love you. I always have. Since that day that you pushed me down in the forest and sat on me because I was being a cocky little prick." You smiled at that.

"I wish I could take all the bad stuff back. I wouldn't have hurt you. And I wouldn't have left. I am so sorry." Jamie hung his head.

"That must've been weighing on you for a long time." You replied with a pause. What he was talking about was something you didn't think about that often. Of course being the girlfriend of a young football star and then being left very abruptly phased you and impacted your future relationships, but therapy helped a lot. It's not just that Jamie was a prick, no sugarcoating needed there, but you weren't a sunshine either. "Jamie, we both weren't great people - we were still basically teenagers. You were going pro in football and I was going abroad for university. We would have broken up eventually or someone would have cheated and I think while the execution was not great, you did the only right thing. So, I hold absolutely no hard feelings for you." You smiled and he finally lifted his head to look at you.

"As for the confession about love...why don't you first get into the good graces of Manchester and then we can talk, I don't plan on jeopardizing my entire life because the man I want to date is hated by the whole fucking city."

"Wait...would you want to go on a date with me?" Jamie asked, looking shocked.

"Well, I'm single and the only guy I ever really loved in my life just said that he still loves me, so I guess so?" You grinned.

"Can I kiss you?" Jamie stood up from his seat, with a little more pep and you nodded, stepping closer to him with a ridiculous smile on your face. It was like muscle memory when your lips met and suddenly all the other guys made sense - you never liked kissing them as much as Jamie. Your therapist offered that idea to you but it dawned on you just now.

Thank you for reading! 😊💙

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator 😊

[slut4msby]

one of 'those'. sakusa kiyoomi x reader (part one.)

+ tags & warnings; n/a

+ a/n; day 3/7!! should i write a p2 of sakusa as a dad bc i have such an unbelievable soft spot for this man it isnt even funny

+ part two.

Sakusa was never a fan of kids. Being the youngest child in the family he never had any younger siblings or cousins to learn from only the troublesome kids he encountered in public. The kids who would sit near him on a plane as the athlete flew across the country for his next game and wouldn’t stop crying the whole flight causing him to not get any sleep. Or the kids who would run rouge in the malls he would often avoid like the plague. Children made unnecessary messes as well, often throwing up and contracting constant illnesses from preschool. Kids are like animals, they can smell fear. Sakusa would never admit he was nervous around children but every child who ever came in a close proximity would instantly start screaming due to the aura Kiyoomi exerted. 

Kiyoomi never really asked you how you felt about having kids, assuming it wasn’t all that important to you considering you never brought it up. He was wrong, you wanted nothing more than to start your own family with Sakusa and settle down. 

Sakusa never believed you enjoyed the presence of children until you had gone to one of their practices and spent your time hanging out with Bokuto’s 3 year old son, Kaito. Bokuto had found no one to watch his son this morning and opted to bring him to practices for the first time, luckily for the team you were more than happy to keep Kaito company whilst the team practised. Kaito, similarly to his father, needed constant attention. The whole practice Kaito couldn’t stop smiling and laughing as the two of you ran around. You helped Kaito practise his volleyball as he wouldn’t stop talking about how he is going to ‘be just like dada one day.” The constant laughter from Kaito kept catching Kiyoomi’s attention.

“Yo Omi-Omi you good?” Atsumu asked, handing Kiyoomi a water bottle. “Oh? You watching Y/N-chan and Kaito? Why don’t ya just have one of yer own, Omi-Omi?”

“I never thought Sakusa would be the type who likes kids.” Meian added on.

“I don’t like them.” Kiyoomi said, taking a drink from his water bottle. You were currently bent down talking to Kaito. You and Kaito turned your heads around to look at your husband and his team giving them a big smile and a wave. 

“Well Kaito sure seems to be getting your attention today, not even Y/N distracts you this much Omi!” Hinata jokes.

Bokuto soon ran over like a proud dad picking up his son throwing him in the air, causing the biggest smile and giggle out of Kaito. “Dada!” Kaito smiled.

Sakusa slowly walked over to you standing by your side watching Bokuto and his son. He slowly wrapped his hand around your waist softly whispering into your ear, “maybe we should have one of those.” He said pointing towards Kaito who was now playing with Bokuto and Hinata.

You couldn’t help but turn to Sakusa with stars in your eyes, “really, Kiyoomi?!” To which Sakusa nodded in response, you knew about his hatred to kids and his constant urge to scoff at those crying in public but hearing those words come out of Kiyoomi’s felt like the world was complete. You couldn’t help but bring Kiyoomi into an excited kiss despite his constant protests to not kiss in front of his team. But just this once he could ignore their teasing he thinks before kissing you back.

©slut4msby.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello!! This is my first time requesting something so I'm sorry if I did it wrong or something, so I was wondering if you could do one with preferably Dazai where the reader is suicidal and mostly copes with humor. Oh and could the reader also be a teen like 13 years old?

Circus Hop

Self-Aware! Platonic! Dazai Osamu x GN! Teen! Suicidal! Reader

Description: You were two years younger then him, when he tried to end his life for the first time. You resemble him in more, then one way.

Warning: Mentions of Suicide, Suicide attempt. Parental Neglect. Emotional abuse. Terrible parents. Self-harm. Breakdown. English is my second language

Inspired by the song Circus Hop by YonKaGor.

List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.

____

Your father brought you to this small building. Someone from school insisted on that.

The room she asked you to stay was quiet. Her voice and your father's voices were muffled, because of the door.

Few minutes ago you were talking to the woman. She asked you about your life, your plans for the future, your friends.

Your answers were simple.

Nothing interesting. Don't have any plans for future. Don't want to meet my friends... Just don't want to.

Then she asked you about pictures you have drawn. And asking about your parents about death. And when the thoughts appeared.

Another set of answers.

I feel like drawing it. I feel like talking about it. After Granny's death.

You... think, that you feel like it. You still can feel, right?

Then she asked you to do some tests. First, you must answer, if some sentences can describe you¹, than you must finish some sentences², then group other sentences together ³.

After you finished, she asked you to wait here, while she talks to your father.

You were left alone.

You looked around.

There were nothing interesting for you. Yet, you continue sitting on the sofa and dangling your feet.

You didn't flinch, when your father opened the door, shouting at the woman, who was talking to him.

"Don't you have anything, that will fix them? They are creeping out everyone!"

Woman's voice was firm.

"I already told you, that your child need professional help. You should..."

Your father's gaze became colder.

"I will take them home. They aren't suicidal. They just a little brat who want some attention and who are angry at their mother and I for working too much and not playing in their stupid games. Come, [Y/N], we are leaving!"

He took your hand in his and start to drag you behind him. You simply follow after him.

Before completely leaving the small building, your father stopped.

"Where's your jacket?"

You point at the door, that leads to woman's office.

"There. I forgot it there "

Your father grumble something and, after slapping you on the back of the neck, he walked towards the door and enter the office again.

"Idiotic brat."

Nothing new. As usual.

Then you heard, how the secretary and one of the janitors were talking.

"Another one of these parents. At first, they refuse to treat their children, because they don't have time for that..." Janitor said, glaring at the office door.

"And then, they must find time to bury their kid..." The secretary's gaze was full of sympathy, when she looked at you.

Your father returns with your jacket. You put if on and follow your father again.

He was mumbling under his breath.

"The nerve of this woman... [Y/N]! Just stop being sad. Be happy!"

You mindlessly nodded. You didn't pay much attention to your father's words. One thought were circling in your head.

"Is it important... to attend someone's funeral?"

_______

It was important. At least, The Internet said so.

Your parents... Work hard. If you die, they won't be able to go to your funeral.

You shouldn't die. At lest, for now.

But... You were so tired. You were so afraid. Future was scary. Life was scary.

and you were a failure

You remembered, your father's advice.

"Just stop being sad. Be happy."

Maybe... you could...

________

For a year, you followed your father's advice.

For one year, you manage to keep up a happy façade.

You became interested in life again.

probably... you do become interested in your hobbies again... at least...you don't even scratch your legs or pull out your hair that much.

Dad's advice works.

kind of... your jokes freaked people out... but the school therapist insisted on helping you in secret from your parents.

when dad found out, he enrolled you in a different school.

he yelled at you for being a brat

mom yelled at you for being a difficult child

You must stay happy. Just be happy.

Pretend to be happy.

you just want to be truly happy again

________

You liked BSD even before these thoughts appeared in your head. Your Granny bought you BSD Manga as a birthday present. It is special to you.

Dazai was one of your favorite character before. Now, he truly became your most favorite. You two are similar. He laughs and jokes. You laugh and joke.

both of you need help

You shake your head, chasing away the thoughts.

You open BSD Mayoi app, humming that song again.

________

Dazai felt nervous.

Two weeks ago, he and the rest of BSD Cast finally got into your world. And, he didn't like what he saw.

First, your parents left the country for a business trip. Leaving you under the care of a complete stranger. Who checked on you two times a day. For the rest of the day, they were doing their own business. And don't pick up the phone.

Your parents left a thirteen-year-old you on your own!

Thankfully, with a few bucks from Fitzgerald and a death glare from Fukuzawa, your 'babysitter' left. You were under BSD Cast care now.

Second, your jokes are concerning. Dazai isn't a hypocrite, he admits, that he jokes about ending his own life! When he and others heard your jokes, back in their world, Dazai was sure that it was his bad influence. But, it turns out, the truth was much darker.

Dazai stopped joking about suicide. He didn't want to worsen your condition even more.

Third, the scratches on your legs.

You scraped your knee a few days ago, and Yosano bandaged it. And she saw this strange marks on your legs. Scratches. Deep. Dazai had a feeling, that you were the one, who made them.

Dazai was worried about you. He wanted to help you.

_______

With each day, it became harder and harder for you to pretend to be happy.

BSD Cast makes sure of that.

They weren't rude. They didn't yell. They... were there.

Asking if you need help. Telling you, that you are allowed to cry. That they will always be there for you.

You wanted to tell them everything. To tell the truth.

But, the call from your father happened.

_____

"Why your voice shaking, [Y/N]? Are you being a brat again?"

"I...I..."

"You're a little ungrateful... You want to make our lives hard?! Did you like it?! You know what, fine! If you didn't want to be there so badly, then d[|||||||||||||||]! See, if your mother and I will cry."

The call ended.

And you were broken.

______

It was dinner time. And you were uncharacteristically silent. No laughter. No jokes. No questions. No talking about your day. Nothing.

Then in the middle of the dinner, you start humming the song. Song, that they heard you humming all the time.

But your eyes were empty.

Dazai carefully touch your shoulder.

"[Y/N], kiddo? Are you alright?"

You slowly nodded. An empty grin appears on your face.

"I am! I am fine... I am happy! I...I can even sing a song!"

BSD Cast looked at each other. Dazai carefully spoke.

"A song?"

You nodded, taking your phone. You quickly found an instrumental.

"Yes! Want to hear it?"

You didn't wait for his, or anyone's response, you pressed play button. The song started playing from the middle.

A cheerful melody start playing.

Soon you sang.

"I shall now accept the fact that I'm a failure (You're a failure). 'Cause I'm still afraid the future might be scarier (It is scarier). I'll slip while having fun and cut off my own tongue. They'll think I was dumb!"

The grin on your face and empty gaze was frightening. Everyone slowly stand up from the table. Fukuzawa took a step towards you.

"[Y/N], if something is wrong, please..."

You ignored him.

"Up from the sky, I won't want you to cry. So here's an act for everyone to sneer at"

Suddenly, you stand up and star jumping up and down.

"So sing along, it's such a silly song. The cackling carousel, it spins and never stops. The acrobat who's waiting at the top. Should do a circus hop!"

You let out a hysterical laughter.

Mom and dad won't cry. No one would care. You can't be happy. You didn't feel anything. No one would care.

"I've said goodbye, I don't want you to cry. So have a laugh with everyone but me"

You were now standing in the middle of the room. You didn't pay attention to BSD Cast. To their pleas to talk to them.

The only thing that matters to you was the open window.

Quick.

You made a dash towards the window. For some reason, you still sang.

You forced yourself to sing. Like this song gave you strength.

"So sing along, it's such a silly song. The cackling carousel, it spins and never stops. The acrobat who fell off from the top. They did a little drop!"

Right before you grab the window's handle, something heavy crushed against you.

You fall down on the floor.

Dazai was pinning you to the floor, making sure, that you can't move.

Something wet fall on your face. You looked up.

Dazai was crying. With shaking hands, he hugged you.

BSD Cast surrounded you. You were in a group hug.

"[Y/N]! Never, never do it again! Kiddo..."

"[Y/N]! Are you hurt? Do you need medical help?"

"First thing tomorrow we are going to the therapist... No! I will find the therapist right now! There must be someone working right now!"

Tears. They were worried about you. They were crying for you.

For the first time since Granny's death, you cried.

"I... I am so scared! After Granny died, I was so alone! Mom and Dad weren't home! They didn't answer my questions about Granny! One day... I just stopped to care about the future. I was afraid of future! Live became so hard! I didn't feel anything... I just want it to end! I want to..."

You didn't finish your sentence and sobbed, hiding your face in Dazai's chest.

Dazai's words were warm. His voice was still shaky.

"You are not alone, [Y/N]... We will be there. I will be there."

_____

For the next few days, you were constantly under supervision. BSD Cast make sure, that you don't have any access to sharp things, medicine, windows.

You start attending therapy. What surprised you the most, that Dazai were attending it with you.

"I will be a bad big brother, if I don't act as an example."

Your parents were fired. Fitzgerald pressed charges about neglect and abuse.

You don't know how, but Fitzgerald adopted you almost instantly.

You had a long way ahead of you.

But you know, you will be better.

Because, one time, you finally thought about your future. And you were waiting for this future to come.

____

¹ Modifications of "Eysenck's Personality Test" for Teens is used to diagnose suicidal behavior.

²Modification of "Sacks Sentence Completion Test, SSCT" is used to diagnose suicidal behavior of teens and children.

³ One of the test, that is used by psychologists in Russia.

[shelbgrey]

Hi! alright? could you do a fanfic where the reader (or y/n) is Emmett and Rosalie's adopted daughter and they just LOVE the fact that she's a redhead? they love her freckles all over her cheeks and fiery red hair, not only them, but the entire Cullen family, they love it!! And maybe one imagines where someone at school admires her for her fiery hair and vampires don't like it! Idk ❤️.

Forever now(Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Hale)

Paring: Daughter!Reader X Emmett Cullen x Rosalie Hale.

Summary: normally when a child in need crosses the path of the Cullens carlisle is always willing to find a spot in his family for them but when a small red-head crosses their path its Rosalie's turn to start the family she's always wanted.

A/n: I love this request so much. I love purness in it and I'm excited to write my first Twilight request.

A/n #2: request are currently closed so I can work on my Emmett Cullen series.

MasterList

The little girl with firey hair story starts a little while back. The little girl was no less than two when she we welcomed into the Cullen family. The little girl's mother had died while giving birth to her and her father was unfit to take care of her.

The soul residents of small town in Alaska became concerned for the red-head child which led her in the hands of the chief of police. This was Beyond the cop's knowledge, so of course he called Carlisle Cullen who was head of the hospital he worked at the time. He had brought the small red-head girl to the hospital and Carlisle was in aw as the small girl stared at him with big doe eyes, almost too shy for her own good.

Carlisle knelt down to her hight and offered his hand. He smiled softly as the little girl approached him carefully. She was clueless to the situation but she knew she could trust the blonde doctor with gold eyes.

Alice had a vision of the red-head girl with freckles but the version she saw, Carlisle and Esme adopted her. Alice's visions had never been so wrong...

Not even the 300 year old vampire could explain what happened that day. As the little girl wondered around the bright house she curiously walked up to Emmett. He was setting in the living room playing video games when the small girl poked his knee a mumbled a small word...

“giant”

It was the first time they heard her talk and they were not disappointed. Emmett chuckled at the smell girl as she hugged on his giant leg. She didn't shy away from him. She did the same with Rosalie.

The family have never seen her this happy. She had gotten home from late from a shopping trip that same night and she was in love as soon as she saw the little girl's fuzzy red hair and beautiful freckles setting on Emmett's lap.

“who's this?” she smiled. The little girl waved at Rosalie and had a big cheesey smile. Rose loved every part of the little girl. In her eyes she's was perfect, from her red hair to her freckles.

The little girl stayed for about a week before the family made the decision of what would the future would be. As that week passed Rosalie grew more and More attached. She would always make sure she ate well and would do her hair everyday. Just like a mother would.

As for Emmett he was slightly afraid to be around the small human. With his bone crushing strength and everything else that came with being a vampire he would never forgive himself if he hurt her.

Of course that didn't stop the little girl. She would giggle and follow him around where ever he went. If he was working on his jeep she would laugh and crawl under it with him. If he was playing video games she would crawl into his lap begging him to read her a story.

All that two year old understood was, this was her home and the people around her was family. She was so young her brain told her Emmett and Rosalie was Mommy and Daddy. Which led Rosalie to life aultering decision after that one single word that fell out of Little red's mouth.

'mama'

Edward nor Jasper could even put into words how happy she was. When she heard that she was glowing with happiness as she held the little girl.

“mama loves you darling” she mumbled. After that the family knew she had a home there and they also knew Rosalie would fight tooth and nail for that little girl.

That night Rosalie layed on the couch as the little girl slept soundly in her arms. Emmett quietly joined her with a huge grien. “okay” he simply replied.

“okay?” she chuckled not really catching on.

“she's ours Rose” his smile only got bigger as he watched his mate hold the little girl with nothing but pure happiness.

“your mommy and daddy love you so much little y/n” Rosalie said kissing her sleeping head.

And that's how the little girl with red hair and freckles became y/n Hale-Cullen. The little girl brought so much joy into the family and each family member ment so much too her.

Emmett and Rosalie of course were #1 in her eyes but as she made herself comfortable in the family she also made meaningful relationships.

She was a listener and an observer so she quickly caught on that carlisle and Esme were her parents 'parents'. She would often call carlisle, Car or pops. When she was little she couldn't properly say his name which lead to Car and pops. Carlisle became close with the small child as well, he loved her personality and loved it when she'd ask about being a doctor. Then Esme. Y/n grew close with Esme immediately, if she wasn't with rose then she was with Esme.

Her Aunts and Uncles were the same. She'd never say it out loud but Jasper was her favorite uncle. Jasper would say y/n was the only thing pure in his life, but that was true for all of them.

Then there's the who vampire thing. Y/n wasn't stupid and of course she wanted to know why mom and dad never ate gold fish crackers like she did and she wanted to know why when ever she had a bad dreams mom and dad weren't in bed asleep when she ran in for comfort.

She was about six years old when she found out. She knew she had to keep it a secret and she was very good at it. This also led to Rosalie's fear of her becoming a vampire. Of course she wanted her daughter to be around Forever, but her heart broke eveytime she thought about the opportunities that would be tooken away from her. Which is why she's now 16 and looked the same age as her uncle Edward.

Y/n would never say it out loud but she was sick of it. She wanted to be like her family and it was hard for her grow up while everyone else in her family remained the same ages. She wanted her mom's gold eyes and her father's strength... She just wanted to feel normal in what she felt was a normal family but here she was, now 16 going to High school with her parents and her Aunts and Uncles.

Just livin' the dream...

--------( ....... )--------

So far Forks was y/n favorite palce to live. She's been just about everywhere, that came with being a Cullen. But something about this town was special to her. But the down fall was all the curious eyes. She didn't like the attention her family received. She hated how people would watch them... She hated how people watched her and that made her have second thoughts about the thing everyone loved about her.

She's was going through a 'phase' at least Emmett and Rosalie hoped it was. Her phase was she didn't like how her hair looked, no matter how many times Rosalie or Esme would tell her how beautiful she was. But no matter what she did with it everyone still seemed to be in aw about it.

Especially the boys at Forks High...

As I said before she hated how people watched her. Her beautiful hair is the reason why people watched her. She started to resent it no matter how many different ways Rosalie or Alice styled it or how many times Carlisle would say how beautiful it was. She just hated the attention. She hated the attention the high school boys gave her.

“Hey, y/n” Mike Newton said one day as she was leaving her English class.

Y/n wasn't a socializing type, hell she was shy. She would just mumbled a small hello with a smile. Mike continued to walk with her and eye her up and down.

“your hair is pretty today” Mike smiled. It was a nice thing to say, yes but as he said it y/n passed her uncle Jasper.

“Hey I was wondering if-”

Jasper slammed his locker shut in anger as he felt impure feelings the teen felt for his niece. In Mike's defense he truly liked her but he would never be her type. Jasper took on the role of the big brother he played at school and walked up to the two.

“hi y/n” he said glaring at Mike. Y/n rolled her eyes as milk gulped.

Jasper continued to walk down the hallway with the two as he intimidated Mike. Y/n sighed and looked down in embarrassment but at the same time thankfull it wasn't her father. Emmett would have made it ten times worse.

“Hey Mike, weren't you gonna say something?” y/n asked softly as they walked to their next class with Jasper.

He shrugged. “I honestly don't remember” he said staying silent in fear of what Jasper would do. They then walked passed Alice and Rosalie in the hallway he recoiled even further as he felt Rosalie's percing eyes. Rose didn't say anything though, she knew her daughter was safe with Jasper. She also knew Emmett would have a cow if he found out.

Despite the angry eyes of the Cullen family, Mike couldn't stop looking at her beautiful red hair. He loved the way the curls perfectly framed her face and bounced as she moved gracefully. But you just don't look at y/n Cullen like that. No matter if you have good intentions or not.

So Mike failed and so did a handful of others at school. Jasper of course kept it a secret like y/n asked but his mind would wonder and if it wondered to that one faithful day Edward would find out. And Edward refused to lie to Emmett or Rosalie when it came y/n.

This would lead to Emmett putting the fear of God in Mike dispite his daughter's pleas. Yes she found him annoying but the kindness Esme and Carlisle had tougher made her fear for Mike.

Tyler was the only one who was close to even getting a date with her. She actually liked him at one point but then he moved away. But after that y/n stopped showing interest in the boys of her school. She stopped even if they still loved her and her red hair.

Those human boys never mattered to her. There was no possible future due to her life style and family. They especially stopped mattering after she found her mate Benjamin...

The first thing Benjamin noticed about her was her freckled covered cheeks as she smile. He couldn't help but smile with her. He was in love with her firey red hair and couldn't stop staring at how it perfectly layed on her shoulders or how it reminded him of the sunsets at his home.

All the things she grew tired of because of the boys at Forks High, she grew to love because of Benjamin's genuine compliments and love he had for the things that made her stand out.

[obae-me]

I am so sad that I'm not a Solomon fucker, because if I was, I would have actually cared about the Bon Voyage event. It's kind of cute, but I am very apathetic towards good old Sol. What are your thoughts on it?

Sorry for getting to this late! I wanted to actually complete the event before I responded, and I got to it very last minute! (Since I have low-key kind of hated the events lately. I hate spending 2-6 minutes doing the songs only for five lines of text as a reward, it's almost painful, but anyways...)

Now, Solomon as a character, I love. I was very meh towards him in the original Shall We Date, but they really started working on his character towards the end, and in Nightbringer they really pulled it home! Now I love Solomon! Before, he was just kind of some sketchy little sorcerer that they usually brought in to help solve plot devices- and don't get me wrong, he's still like that, but we definitely get a deeper look into *why*.

He's an immortal human whose desire for power and knowledge was so great, he somehow went head on with nearly the entire Devildom, convinced Barbatos to make a pact with him, and then made Barbatos show him every experience he could, at least, that's what I remember from the lore dropped thus far. And what do you usually get when you get a human that knows and sees too much? A broken human. A human who feels like there is no purpose left. A human with mixed morals and a shattered ego.

Now, this part is just my own personal thoughts and theories, but Thirteen talks about how Solomon's soul used to be beautiful like MC's, but then it became ruined. I imagine it's because he 'flew to close to the sun' and it nearly broke him. MC has hope, has love, has so much to learn still, so much to give. I imagine when Solomon learned and saw everything he could, he had hardly any hope left. Nothing was new to him anymore. He spent so much of his life seeking knowledge, and once he finally got it all...what was left? It corrupted him, surely. But then, clearly, somewhere along the line, his new purpose was to protect and stand for the human realm. Then his dealings with demons began.

The game always talks about how Solomon is now closer to a demon than a human. But I think that's because he *had* to "become" a demon. He has so many pacts, had so many exchanges with the Devildom, he had to learn how to survive amongst them. The way he withholds key information until the crucial moments. The way his "accidents" always seem to line up in his favor. The way his generous actions typically end up satisfying something of his as well. Exactly what a demon does. Exactly what someone would learn spending so much time around demons. I mean, that's exactly what MC learns how to do throughout the entire game! Play it smart, do whatever you can to earn the Brother's favors, and get their pacts. And then when MC throws that concept out the window and does things just to be selfless and then gets their pacts anyway? It almost breaks the "law" of the world that Solomon has come to know.

I'd like to think that maybe that's the reason why Solomon was sent to live with Simeon and Luke in Shall We Date. He needed to learn how to be around other beings, and maybe being around angels could correct some of that.

Now, about the event, the event was actually pretty cute. And while I have my general complaints about the events being very short and shallow, this one wasn't the worst of the bunch. Solomon getting some of the demon brothers together to give you a really nice dream is such a cute thing to do (even if he went behind your back to cast a spell on you). And also I'm not sure if it was stated specifically, but I'm like 98% sure MC and Solomon shared a bed at the end there, which is really adorable. I love sleepy bed cuddles.

This kind of ties back to my insights into his character, where he's spent so long being around demons that he's not really sure how to be a normal human anymore. He spends so much of his time planning and prepping how to do something for you when all he really needed to do was ask. All he wanted was a cute little date and to watch the sunset with MC and went through like a 100 step plan just to get it. And MC's little options to scold him for his schemes is really adorable in my opinion. Essentially it boiled down to them just saying "just ask next time, you idiot!". And Solomon being one of the smartest characters in the game being so lost and confused in terms of relationships and romance is really...very cute, which is why I think I like the concept of his character so much. I love when super overpowered characters have weaknesses like this, or learning new lessons.

I also loved the concept of just Lucifer, Asmo, Luke, Belphie, and Satan all just really hamming it up for MC. They preformed for them all just as a little thank you, and when they clarified, it wasn't really for anything huge. Shopping, helping them with decisions, just spending time with them, that was enough to fully convince them to pick up this dream-world-improv. Which...is really sweet.

Man I love these boys.

[feelbokkie]

Sorry, Right Number | Chapter 9

pairing: idol!Chan x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff,strangers to lovers, pen pals/hidden identity, forbidden love, celebrity romance

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing

summary: Being an idol can be lonely and isolating. After one fun and adventurous night at a bar, Chan decides to text the girl he met the night before. Except, she gave him the the wrong number?

word count: 1, 505

screenshot count: 3

taglist: closed

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©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You set down the tray of cookies on the cooling rack before closing the oven and getting back to icing cupcakes to for an order. You roll up your sleeves and get your hair out of your face before putting on gloves and getting to work. Music softly playing in the background, a random playlist of ballads you found to fill in the quiet in the bakery.

Today has been relatively calm. After the morning rush, you've been working on cookies and cakes for orders as you wait for your shift to end. That's one of the parts you love about working in your bakery, the quiet moments where you could just sit and work. Your boss was kind enough to let you watch TV while you worked after catching you watching skz code videos or dramas on your phone while working. Eventually, he brought in an old television and set it up so you and your coworkers could have it on in the background during the slower moments.

Your life has become increasingly dull and a little lonely since you blocked Topher—Chan. Bothering Topher/Chan had become a part of your daily life over the past few months, it was basically a routine. You gotten used to the delayed responses and were even happy when he happened to be awake at the same time as you.

When you found out that Topher is actually Bang Chan, you were a bit disappointed. Not because of who he is but because of who he is. You’re not sure exactly when, but you started to develop feelings for Topher at one point. Daydreaming of the two of you eventually meeting in real life and falling in love like some fairytale and living happily ever after often consumed your brain. But when you found out that Topher is an idol, those daydreams suddenly felt like nightmares.

You watched enough dramas and even witnessed the real-life drama that entails dating an idol to know how bad things can get. It scares you, the idea of just being friends with Chan because you know what the fallout will be. You don’t need the added drama that will ensue from just being in Chan’s life, you’ve been through enough as is. But part of you wants that connection that you had with Topher back.

Ring, ring

“Welcome to Sugar Bliss! I’ll be with you in a minute!” You call from the side of the bakery as you hear the bell ring from a customer coming inside the bakery. You finish icing the cupcake you are working on and set the icing bag on the counter before tossing your gloves in the trash and heading to the front of the shop.

Your breath hitches in your throat and a chill runs through your spine as you catch a glimpse of the customer on the other side of the counter. He did his best to remain unrecognizable, the face mask and black cal he’s wearing doing their job. Even the large black hoodie and jeans helped cover his identity. What gives him away are his eyes. You would recognize his eyes anywhere, and you have playing those Guess the SKZ member based on a body part games online.

Bang Chan was standing in the middle of your bakery. Why? You weren’t sure, but you wanted no part of it.

“Get the hell out,” You say coldly as you turn back to go back to work on the cupcakes.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” Your boss asks from further in the store. He was currently on his lunch break.

“Yeah, I was just talking to a tool,” You call back, “the icing wouldn’t come out of the piping bag.”

“Y/n, please,” Chan calls, loudly. There’s no way your boss wouldn’t have heard him.

You silently swear to yourself and quickly turn on the balls of your feet and walk up to the display cases. You look Chan in the eyes. They’re soft and sad.

“I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, so get out before I call the cops.” You say cooly. Chan stands there a second, thinking. Or maybe he didn’t hear you

“Did you hear me? I said—“

“My MBTI is ENFJ. My natural hair is curly but I’ve gotten used to it being straightened, which I don’t necessarily like. My favorite season is autumn. I like sunny days more than rainy days. I—“

“What are you doing?” You ask, cutting him off as he info dumps on you.

“One of the reasons you stopped talking to me is because you said I lied because I was pretending to be someone else. So I’m telling you everything about me.” He rambles, his voice muffled from his mask.

“As sweet as that is, Chan. None of that is new information. I can find all that out from interviews and fansites. Hell, I already knew all that stuff.” You sigh as your hand reaches for the store phone. You didn’t want to call the police, it would only cause a scandal. You were going to pretend to call them so he would run before they got there.

“Wait, wait, wait! Fuck,” he huffs, pulling down his mask, “I love my sister, I really do, but when Hannah was born I despised her. I wanted a little brother, not a little sister. So one day I put her in a box with a note asking for a refund or a baby brother instead. My parents only found out because I went to them for packing tape.”

“What—“ You can’t help but laugh, “where did you try to ship her?”

“My parents said we were Korean so, I tried to ship her here.”

“Chan! You tried to ship her here all the way from Australia?”

“I was 6, what did you want from me?”

You start to laugh harder, which causes Chan to let out a relieved smile. A twinkle shining in his eyes.

“You have a really pretty smile. I’ll tell you more stories like that if you want. If it’ll make you laugh like that. If you’ll be my friend again.” He says quietly.

“You know,” you usher for Chan to follow you behind the counter. It’s nearly time for people to start coming in for lunch and the last thing you need is a frenzy. “You not being truthful wasn’t the only reason I stopped being friends with you.”

“Don’t worry about that. I have it figured out. I’ll protect you, I promise. Nothing will happen, and if it does, I’ll handle it.” He sits down in the chair next to your workstation, careful not to touch the counter. You pull on your gloves and go back to icing the cupcakes.

“Why are you so obsessed with being friends with me?” You ask, not looking up as you work. You know if you look at him there is a strong chance you might cave.

“Because you didn’t know who I was and you’re the first person in a long time I could talk to freely without worrying that you wanted something from you. And talking to you makes me unbelievably happy even though you were a pain in my ass 99.9% of the time.” You finish icing the last cupcake and quickly glance at Chan. His eyes are half crescents as he smiles softly as if he’s remembering something fondly.

“I know who you are now. What makes you think I don’t want something from you now that I know that I know the truth?” You get the sprinkles and continue decorating the cupcakes.

“I’ve been talking to you for months. Plus, you blocked me when you found out and tried to call the cops. Besides, I want something from you.” He leans back in his chair, still trying to avoid the counter.

“What could I possibly have that you want?” You scoff. you make significantly less money than him, there is. O way that you have something that he wants.

“If I remember correctly, I was promised a free meal for those tickets.” He said coyly.

“Are you serious?” You finish decorating the cupcakes and start putting them in the box.

“You’re a Stay, you know I don’t play when it comes to food.” He smirks.

“You’re rich,” you throwback

“A free meal is a free meal,” He crosses his arms and leans his head against the wall.

“Okay, let’s go,” You huff, closing the cupcake box and putting it in the fridge.

“Wait—“ You grab your bag and throw the dirty gloves in the trash.

“Mr. Lim! I finished the cupcakes for the order, I’m going to take my lunch!” You call out loudly.

“Have a good lunch!” Mr. Lim calls from the back of the shop.

“We’re going right now?”

“Yeah, the sooner I pay back my debts, the faster this is. C’mon, I only have an hour and it’s lunch rush.” You pull Chan up by his hand and drag him out to the bakery.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist; closed

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@ventusnonexpectat @kibs-and-bits @sanriiolino @majorlymismanaged @s00buwu @badgergirlsblog @rag-iii @lanatheawesome @143lix @jaiuneamesolitaiire @veedoesntknaur @brain-empty-only-draken @jaydebow @allaboutyej8 @skz-streamer @weird-bookworm @spearb-99 @marked-unknown @alyszaen @thesassy-mia @kalopsian-thoughts @gruszkasmierci @aslou @chlodavids @greyyeti @thepeopleintheback @hanjiies @jihanniee @skzhoes @imsiriuslyreal

[thesupernaturalhouse]

This started out as a funny snipper. How tf did it turn into a fanfic?? Also this took me so long anyways, pt3 of the accidental overlord vaggie fic

Alastor: shoves Vaggie between him and Rosie and drops Frank onto her lap

Vaggie: trying to process how tf a giant dragon got through an elevator among many other things

Carmilla: thank you for coming today. I've gathered you all here to talk about the millions of souls-

Vaggie squeaks so quiet no one hears her: I'm sorry fucking how many??....How- How do you check that?? Gets ignored

She's just squeezing poor frank like a stress toy

Carmilla ignores her: You own. And how their at risk with the new extermination schedule. And how we minimize the damage going to be caused by it.

Finally looking aorund the room

Carmilla: Zestial, so god to see you- ....Alastor?? And- eyes narrow the protective overlord

Alastor, leaning over to block vaggie form view because he's petty as fuck: hello! Yes yes, I know, I've been absent for a longgg time and I'm sure youre all DYING to knwo where I've been~

Carmilla:...no. not really, shrugs but welcome back anyways I suppose....I am interested about who you've brought though....

Vaggie: just staring out into space, regretting her life choices and trying to count how many people owe her 'favors'

Carmilla slgihtly concerned/unnerved: In any case, this year's extermination was brutadal. A good 16% of the population was killed off. With them coming back in only 6 months I think it prudent that we-

Velvette: just fucking kicks the door open Yeah, I've got it handled Vox? Are you doubting me? ME might I remind you? Yeah, no. That's what I thought. Yes, yes, I know, thank you V, see you later Okay, bye, kisses darling!

Carmilla: nice of you to finally join us, Velvette. Will you.....colleges? be joining us?

Velvette: What? No way. They have better shit to do than to listen to some old windbag who think she's tough shit! Haha, no. Immm here to represent!

Carmilla:...charming. now, back to what I was saying, we need to-

Velvette: waves her arm frantically

Camilla feeling like a preschool teacher: yes??

Velvette: well, on the topic of discussssss throws exorcists head down let's discuss

Alastor: oooo tasty!!

Vaggie: ohhhhh my god....whispering to herself is that Tuff?? Wtf- how??

Carmilla:......where...did you get this?

Velvette: doesn't matter. We found it, though. And if these angle fuckers can be killed, then the game of cat and mouse has changed, the boys and I have-

Vaggies distressed squeaking as Velvette continues, Zestial jsut slumps his tea

Velvette:....the fuck is wrong with you two?? Looks at vaggie leans downs to get closer....also you're new

Vaggie: uhhhhh......thank?? You??

Velvette: narrows eyes before her head snaps ti zestial

Zestial: we shouldn't go to war with such meger proof.

Velvette:...meger- MEGER PROOF!? ITS a dead fucking Exorcist!!! What more do you WANT!? A video of it being killed?? No- this is definitive proof- if you can't see that, maybe you're going blind old man.

Zestial: it may be dead but how? It could be by a demon, but mayhaps it died due to unrelated reasons

Vaggie: Well, angles have hurt their own kind. Wouldn't be suprised if killing was another option for them

Everyone's heads snap to her

Vaggie:.....did....I say that out loud?

Carmillas narrows her eyes: how do you know that.

Vaggie: I um...I....I saw it happening?

Velvette:....wait aren't you the princesses whore? What are you doing out if your bird cage hm?

Vaggie: I....what??

Carmilla shaking her head: we're getting off topic.

Zestial: Carmilla is right. If we rush to war the angles would purge all of the sinners for daring to even TRY an uprising

Overlords: muttering

Alastor: why don't we put it to a vote?

Vaggie: depends is one of the options 'can we all just go home pelase?'

Alastor: hmmm no!

Vaggie grumbling: I hate you.

Velvette narrows eyes: ohhh okay I see. Grandpa's to scared to make a move! So then there's no point in it huh?

*the respect less song which I am not writing*

Zeezi: pft, what the hell? we literally JUST got here!

odette:....mom??

Carmille:....meeting dismissed.

Vaggie: uh, does this mean we can go home?- gets glared at .....okay sits back down like a scolded kid as she thinks about wtf jsut happened

Vaggie to herself in a defeated tone:.....she never told me how to see how many souls I own.....how many people owe me favors?

Proceeds to try and calculate and count on her fingers and Alastor watches in amusement, after sending off frank, and Rosie watches slightly concerned as to wtf her friend did to this teenage child....and maybe also finding it a bit funny

Part 2 | Part 3(here!) | Part 4

[trulycertain]

Been thinking about Astarion and his disapprovals when you help people. I think that yes, it's partly about envy that no-one was there to help him, but also about choice and control. (BG3 is always a game about autonomy, after all.)

So hear me out: back in the pre-turn days, Astarion was a magistrate. And if Baldur's Gate is anything like our medieval and Renaissance eras? He would've had to sign off on some pretty damn awful punishments. (Look at how he talks in the Justice test about how one has to punish thieves, and the Early Access bit where he talks about how killing Arabella would be too harsh for her stealing... they should've cut off her hand instead, the "proper" punishment for thieves and what he would've sentenced her to. He handed down an edict bad enough on a Gur tribe that he was essentially murdered in revenge.)

So how do you justify this to yourself? Well. He had money, societal power, and pretty privilege - this is almost certainly why Cazador chose him, too - and was kind of crap at empathy. And we know he likes seeing people get their comeuppance, likes seeing them taken down a peg. So he carefully ignores all the ways he's been lucky, all his privilege, and pretends he got there all by himself. He goes, "They had a choice. There's always a choice. They weren't helpless. They should have got a job, not begged, or stolen. They earned this. They brought it upon themselves. I'm simply serving them the consequences. Don't look at me like that." (I think this also ties into that later-retconned part about him giving prisoners to vampires. They're just criminals, after all, the same way the Gur are cutthroats and goblins are trash. They chose this life. They chose not to matter.)

So then he falls painfully from privilege, and gets the full horrible buffet of helplessness at Cazador's hands. He "resisted least" - see, surely there's a way to be punished less if you just do the right things, if you say the right things. The spawn who resist are doing it wrong. They made their choice. (He ignores that he's never the favoured spawn, ignores the pliers coming out again, and tells himself this.) If he can say that, he can pretend he still has control - and he so desperately wants control. His old self-justification has been turned up to eleven by the trauma of Cazador.

And suddenly... tadpole. He's free. He's also, as said, traumatised. He tells himself he's never going back to Cazador - look, Cazador can't compel him, look, he can walk in the sun, look, he's seducing Tav. He knows what he's doing! He's in control! The tadpole just being luck? He can't afford to think about that. Luck can change. Which means Cazador, and everything else, no matter what Astarion does or prepares or succeeds at, can happen again. He's helpless. But no. No. He's not some helpless damsel in distress - his first meeting with you was mocking the very thought!

But look. These people are showcasing their helplessness, almost proudly. And it's horrifying. And they keep saying familiar things - they're saying things he's said, in his more vulnerable moments. And Tav keeps saying things like, "They had no choice - we have to help them." But of course these people did. They got themselves into this situation, they can damn well help themselves out of it.

Because if they didn't have a choice... then neither did all the poor bastards he sent to their deaths or horrendous punishments over the years. Neither did those he brought to Cazador. Neither will all the spawn he's going to sacrifice in the ritual. Neither did he. All that separates them from him is luck, and luck can change. He's not in control. The thought is horrifying, so he pushes back against it. "They're weak, pathetic [...] We are better." Even as he approves of getting Wyll out of the pact and getting Mayrina away from the hag, even as he wants Lae'zel to "break her chains", because he feels a kinship with them. Even as, in a rawer moment, he tells the story about being locked in a crypt and tells Tav not to judge him for what he had to do for Cazador. If he stops to examine that too much, he'll panic. Cognitive dissonance is a hell of a drug. So move on, keep desperately snobbing.

He keeps trying that even when Tav meets his siblings and treats them with empathy (empathy that confuses and horrifies him). "They lured thousands to their deaths," he tells Tav. "I doubt Baldur's Gate will miss them." Or him. If they had control, he had control too. Life before turning taught him that if you're punished for what you've done, with cruelty or with death in a ritual, the punishment implies you still had a choice. He vacillates wildly between victim-blaming and talking about them as helpless unfortunate sacrifices while he tries to get his head round this. Even while, as Tav insists on saying, all that separates him from them is a tadpole. His victims are "criminals and brothel-goers," he tries desperately to tell Tav later - look, they deserved it!

The breakthrough is when he finally admits that the spawn are "the innocent, idiots, and the unlucky." Just like the others whose chains you've helped break, through the acts (his approval slowly starting to turn round on some of them, as this realisation creeps up on him and gains speed). Just like him - he was unlucky. (Which means he didn't deserve two hundred years of enslaved misery, and the people on this journey didn't deserve what happened to them, either. Which means he deserves to be treated with kindness, and so do others.) He can turn from that, and keep desperately scrabbling for control with the ritual (he can command others! He'll "never have to be afraid of anyone, ever again"), or he can stay a spawn, and accept that.

The kind of control he wants is an illusion. You can never truly control others without losing yourself in the process. All you can do to change people is decide whether to help - to reach out and hope they reach back. He's seen this time and time again with Tav, saw it even before he woke up in the ground. It's just that finally, he's stopped outrunning the thought and accepted it. Sometimes he still backslides, sometimes he still sees those who hurt him in the ones Tav wants to help, sometimes he's still rather an arse... but he's starting to see it now.

[badnoahmens]

I Took Your Keys, It Was Me - Part 2

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 2.5kish

A/N: I’ve never had so many requests to make a part 2 to a fic before, so here’s this. Part 1 found here.

Two weeks had passed now, your normal daily life routine had fallen back into rhythm. A swell of work, sleep, food somewhere in the mix. There was a slight adjustment though, and that was the odd text message from Noah. It wasn’t every day, and no deep, dark secrets were being shared, it was simply a meme, a photo of something mundane, or most of the time, a terrible, terrible, pun.

The communication between the two of you was effortless, like talking to a lifelong friend. There was no sense of urgency, no burdening, no feelings of dread whatsoever, which was unusual for you to feel like that.

Their tour was starting to wind up. Only 1 week left, and 3 cities to visit and perform at. To think back at the meeting you had 2 weeks ago seems like more time had passed than it actually had. It could be because of life going back to normal, or because of all the stories Noah had told you about touring, both old and new.

Your mind got lost in a memory, one of a late night. You were sitting on the couch, dirty dishes on the table in front of you, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly as the TV kept playing in the background.

The sudden vibrations in your hand and a change of screen distracted you from your doom scrolling, seeing Noah’s name flash up. It wasn’t often that he would call, this was only the second time, but there was a comfort in talking to him that didn’t seem to happen with anyone else, especially this quickly after meeting someone.

“You’ll never believe what just happened” he would say, not even letting you say hello. Immediately, he continued. “So, tonight, after the show, we went to get some food because the hungry boys deserved a feast, and then…”

Your mind started to wander. He was so excited about what had happened that he called you. You. Out of anyone in the world. It was something that you tried not to think too deep about, but boy was that hard. He was excited, and thought of your name, and wanted to tell you all about his exciting story.

It was his laugh that brought you back to the conversation, bringing you out of your own head and back to whatever epic tale he was recounting. Something about getting lost and then being chased by some rodent and needing to hide up a tree, then the rodent climbed the tree too… it was hard to follow along with what he as actually saying because of the wheezing and laughter mid-sentence. You couldn’t help but just smile. A big, goofy, toothy grin. He sounded so genuinely happy.

“So, as you can probably guess, I have a new fear of rats now” he finished.

“So what you’re saying is, that big, bad Noah, who wears a ski mask and wraps his hands like a boxer to perform, is scared of a mouse?” You tease.

“Did you not hear me! This rat was the size of a small dog! What if it bit me!” He was off again. Going into strangely specific detail about how big it’s teeth were and how hairless it’s tail was.

Snapping back to reality, you couldn’t help but scroll through your old conversations, giggling once again at some of the photos he chose to share with you. One in particular was a favourite.

It was a selfie, and wore a uniform black outfit of a shirt and beanie. It looked like it was night, the windows showed a dark sky. Although it was a selfie, the photo was aimed over his shoulder, a chaotic scene of arms flailing and frustrated expressions in the band and crews faces. Noah himself looked as though he was stifling a giggle with his eyes semi-closed and lips pursed together. What looked to be a Monopoly board and its game pieces were scattered over the floor, table, and lounge. What you could only imagine is an argument occurred where someone was wrong done by, egos were crushed and friendships were put to the test.

It was these kinds of photos, the casual insights into his life, that made you think more about him than what you probably should.

Almost as though he knew you were thinking of him, a new message from Noah dings in your phone.

“We’re in your town next week!” Is all it said, followed by a second message. “Still offering that tour of the best places to eat?”

Your heart skips a beat. The memory of the offer to show him around your city floods back and you cringe a little at the awkwardness of it all. After musing over a response for a few minutes, you respond.

“I’ve got just the right place in mind”.

————————————————————————

The next week had finally rolled around and you were on your way to the food truck you had told Noah all about. It was… quaint. Set up permanently in an old car park, with some rickety plastic chairs scattered around, it served some of the best food you’ve ever eaten. Throughout the morning, you had changed outfits 4 times, drank 3 coffees, turned the house upside down looking for a hat that you didn’t even wear, and then almost locked yourself out of the house, all thanks to the panic that was starting to set in.

Thoughts if doubt started to creep in, force of habit you guess. Your mind was not the kindest of places, especially to yourself. Some of the things you would say to yourself almost made you pull the plug and not go at all, but you were distracted once again by Noah sending a message confirming the address.

Right now, you were sitting in your car, around the corner from where you were supposedly meeting everyone. You had invited the whole band and crew along to try and ease the awkwardness, but now it has made the whole thing even more daunting.

You leg bounced in its place, nervously tapping a rhythmic and repetitive beat, almost like you were building up the courage to actually get out of the car. A very long 5 minutes passed, and you forced yourself to push open the door. Why was this so nerve-wracking? Was it because it had been building up for a week, or because you were seeing Noah in person for the first time since you last met? Was it because you had brought along the hoodie that he gave you last time to give back to him, but secretly you didn’t want to part with it?

One foot started to move, followed by the other, as you walked closer to the desired location of greasy burgers and fries. Your stomach rumbled fiercely at you, reprimanding your choice to skip breakfast and run only on a caffeine diet this morning. It distracted you enough, right up until you could hear a familiar voice, echoed by a band of laughter.

You stood at the corner, looking at the food truck, seeing all familiar faces crowded around the plastic chairs and tables. Folio was talking to Jolly, making strange expressions and wide arm movements, as though he was telling an age-old story of his, meanwhile Jolly looked as though he had heard it all before. They were the closest, a wall of bodies with their backs turned to you was behind them, a mix of people, of which you could vaguely make out Bryan, Matt, Ruffilo, Dakota, Tim, Steven, and even Miles.

Memories of their faces flash back in your mind, back to the night you met them, sitting around in a circle in the greenroom after their concert. They were so kind to give up their space, time, and drinks for a stranger, let alone a fan of theirs.

There was a shift in the crowd that stood around the plastic table, and then you could see Noah. He was sitting down at one of the chairs, glancing between his phone and his friends around him. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, along with a white graphic tee and some black shorts. He was a simple fashionista, but you’d be damned if you said it didn’t look good on him.

The 10 seconds that you stood there for felt like a lifetime as the bubbling of nerves in your stomach grew. They all seemed to happy and relaxed, and you could help but think, why ruin that?

The devil on your shoulder screamed at you to leave them alone.

They’re happy.

Don’t ruin it for them.

Look how well they’re doing without you there.

You could feel your eyes welling up, threatening to spill over tears at any moment, but you wouldn’t let that happen, especially with the threat of them seeing you like that.

You suck down a shaky breath, holding it in as you turn on your heels. In the end, that voice was right. Why would they need you to join them? A fan, nonetheless, that they met once, to hang out like they were childhood best friends? It was ignorant to think that it could have gone any other way than this.

You could see your car now, almost acting like a safe place. Your steps quickened as you impatiently headed towards your familiar haven to then let the tears fall. That was until you heard your name being called out from behind you. It makes you stop in your tracks. A feeling of panic rises inside your chest as you hear it called a second time.

It was Noah. It was his voice, undeniably, calling out to you.

Your eyes squeezed shut in an effort to fight back the feeling of despair, forcing the tears back. You couldn’t face him like that. You could hear him walking towards you, footfalls growing louder and the keys that jingled by his pocket rang like a warning bell.

Blinking back the fear you still had, you had no choice but to turn and face him. When you did, his face was full of confusion, slightly tilted to the side, eyebrows knitted together like he was trying to figure out what you were doing.

“The food place is this way” he says, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, glancing back in that direction. “Are you okay?”

“Just got lost, I guess” you lie. He knows. He can tell something is off.

“We’ve been waiting for you. Need some recommendations for this place!” He says enthusiastically. It’s clear as day to see he is trying to cheer you up. He’s reading your situation exactly as it’s playing out. He gives you a look, tilting his head down and raising his eyebrows almost as though to say ‘you coming or what?’

It was his calm demeanour that was the only thing that could have convinced you to stray from your path of heading to the car. The way his eyes pleaded in the gentlest of ways made it feel like it was all going to be okay.

“The burgers are greasy as, and you’ll regret it afterwards, but they’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten” you finally respond with a slightly shaky voice. There’s still an air of hesitancy as you start walking towards Noah, but you admit defeat and cave anyway.

As you step closer, one arm lifts and wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug as he spins to face the rest of the band of friends. His arm drops and pulls out his phone, taking a quick snap of the food truck as he strides towards it. You need to quicken your pace because the fucker has long legs and walks fast as hell.

As you near the crowd, they turn and meet your gaze. A chorus of “Hey! Good to see you!” “Where have you been? I’m starving!” And “what’s new key-girl” welcomes you.

You throw out a wave, paired with a “good to see you guys again” and a side glance at Noah, who’s smile is beaming as he looks on at the menu hanging on the side of the truck.

The next hour that follows is one filled with jokes, good food, tales from the road and even a short walk down the Main Street of town. Framing each side of the road are buildings of all different architectural styles. Art-deco neighboured modern, which neighboured neoclassical. There was even a gothic-style library building that you walked past. It was something you admired about this small city, it wanted to be so much more than it was, but seemed like it never really got there.

You walked amongst the group, trailing more towards the back, looking up at how the sunlight danced through the buildings, the trees, and reflected on shop front windows. The sky was a picture perfect blue, letting the sun shine down a radiant warm that gently kissed your skin. It was mid-admiration of your surroundings that you see in your peripheral vision that Noah was looking your way. When you finally glanced at him, you were met with a sweet smile, one that was soft but warmed your heart. He looked away quickly, down at his feet, with his hands shoved into his pockets, along with a little giggle as he scuffed a rock with his shoe.

“Thanks for earlier” you say, looking up at him, squinting slightly as the sun was shining behind him, highlighting a glow around his hair, showing every whiff of the wind that tousled loose strands.

“Don’t mention it” he says, swerving to bump his elbow into your side. It took you aback seeing how comfortable he was being this casually playful.

“I wasn't going to come. I was on my way home”

“I know. I could tell. You had the fear of god in your eyes” he said with a smirk. You couldn’t help but notice how one side of his lips curled up a little more than the other when he smiled.

As terrifying as it was to admit, he was right. You were never that good at hiding your emotions, so why would this be any different?

“I’m glad I caught you, though” he continued, looking back at you, with that damn smile again.

“I’m glad too” you reply, looking away from his gaze in an attempt to hide the blushing in your cheeks. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, yet it was comfortable.

You look ahead, glancing between all of the friends, strolling down the Main Street of your town like it was nothing. Like they weren’t these recognisable figures adored by thousands, if not millions. Including you, you admired them. As artists, as people. They had brought you so much joy and yet here you were, just going for a walk with them.

It was only a few minutes later that you reached your destination, the bank of a lake, splitting off into river mouths and down into streams. It was a favourite of yours because of how tranquil it was, how calm it seemed and how it housed an entirely different world beneath the surface that just fascinated you.

There was a concrete wall that ran along the side where the group had started to sit, some propped up and some laying on their backs on the grass next to it.

But you and Noah decided to keep walking for now, continuing the conversation of small talk and banter.

“How long have you lived around here?” Noah asks.

“As long as I can remember. It’s changed a lot over the years. It’s kinda comforting, but it also gets old. I guess it’s different to what you’re used to” you reply, cautiously asking about him, but not wanting to pry.

“Yeah… I guess you could say that. I haven’t really stayed somewhere too long to really get that used to it. I’m at a good place now, though. Living with some of my closest friends” he says, looking ahead into the distance.

“I meant, with tour, you probably see some cool places.”

“Oh, for sure. We have been to some awesome cities, met awesome people. It’s quite a unique lifestyle that’s for sure.” He looks down at you to meet your eyes, “not for the faint of heart”, followed by a wink.

A wink? Dude, come on. You’re already confused about how you feel, and now he throws you a wink? This man.

“It’s a lot of temporary things. Temporary bed. Temporary city. Sometimes temporary people” he was looking out over the water now.

You admire the way he chose his words carefully. It was clear that he had been through some shit, but he was clever and never intentionally dragged up baggage for pity or for entertainment.

“I hope I’m not a temporary person” you say, almost too quiet. He looks at you and smiles, and you panic. Was that too forward? Would he think you’re clingy?

“So do I” he says, then looks away again.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest, and right on schedule, the overthinking-train arrives. What is that supposed to mean? Is he flirting with you? Is this a joke? Are there hidden cameras somewhere filming this whole prank?

Noah can see your mind racing, it might have been the jittery hands or the rapid eye movements to look anywhere but in his direction.

“I hope I haven’t freaked you out” he admits, and in a moment of confidence, you start to question him.

“Is this some kind of cruel prank you play on fans that you meet?” You ask, in an almost harsh tone. Noah is taken aback slightly, pausing his steps to come to a standstill.

“Why would you say that?” He asks sounded offended.

“You can’t blame me. Think about it. Fan meets band. Band and fan hang out. Fan and band become friends. Fan gets feelings for band. This stuff doesn’t happen in real life” you say with a sigh in defeat. Saying it out loud makes it seem more like a joke.

“It’s… it's not a joke. I rarely meet people that seem like good people.” He pauses, thinking of what words to use, carefully plucking them to try and not make you flee. “It’s different for me too, but you seem like someone I really want to get to know”.

There was sincerity in his voice. You looked at him, and there wasn’t an ounce of falsity to him.

“Plus, did you just say that you have feelings for the band?” He asks, cracking a smile.

You throw your head back, covering it with your hands and turn away from him to hide from the embarrassment. Why did you say that? You have feelings for him? What a way to fuck it up now!

“Yeah… I mean… you can’t blame me” you’re stalling. “I mean, have you seen Ruffilo? The man is beautiful”.

Noah smiles and let’s put a small laugh, but his eyes give away that he’s a little offended that you didn’t mention his name.

Fuck. Now does he have the wrong impression? Why is this so hard?

Now you were panicking, trying to think of a way to fix this.

“But really…” you start, trying to quickly think of the right words to say. “Think about it. Even us walking along here together, right now, seems like it’s a bit far-fetched.”

He nods, acknowledging the strange circumstance that led up to this point.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I mean, I get to spend time with you. That’s something I never expected!” You say trying to change the mood, but Noah shifts and crosses his arms, avoiding eye contact.

“No, I get it. It’s to be expected, really. I guess I was a bit delusional for thinking that wouldn’t come up” he looks out over the water, past you, with a solemn expression. I guess you really did hurt his feelings. You internally kicked yourself for royally fucking this all up.

You stop walking, Noah takes one step more than you, then turns to finally meet your gaze. You take a big breath in, close your eyes, and then exhale. Noah looks at you quizzically. When you open your eyes, you give him a soft smile, and hold out your hand to him. He looks at your hand, then back at you.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you” you say kindly, then offering your name to him.

“Is… this… are you okay?” He asks.

You drop your hand and give him an exasperated look.

“I’m trying to start things over”.

“Oh.. oh okay. Hi, I’m Noah” he states, then holding his hand out. You shake it, feeling the warmth of his hands and noticing the calluses forming.

Noah’s phone pings at that moment, he takes a second to type out a response, then puts it back into his pocket.

“Everything okay?” You ask.

“Yeah. The guys said they’re heading back. I’ll meet up with them later.”

“If you need to go, I won’t be offended”

“We only just met! I can’t leave now, that would be rude” he says with a smirk.

You continue to wander, side by side, for the next 30 minutes, at some stage turning and beginning your walk back to your starting point.

“Are you staying locally?” You ask.

“Yeah, we have a hotel tonight. A nice break from the bus. That thing gets crowded and smells bad real quick.”

“I can drive you back there if you need. Your hoodie is in my car too.”

“I said you could keep that” he glances at you with a side eye smirk.

“I know, I feel bad keeping your stuff though”

“I have probably a million pieces of Bad Omens merch. I can even give you more if you want”

Your mind quickly flashed to the mound of merch for this band that you already own. “I don’t think that’s necessary, thank you for the offer though”

“Fine, suit yourself.” He shrugs. “But I will take you up on the offer to drive me to the hotel. Think of it as that driving tour you promised me last time.”

You smile down at your shoes remembering the interaction, the hoodie he gave you, him making sure you got back to your car safely. He did everything so right, and you were trying everything you could to not stuff this up even more.

By the time you got to your car. The sun was starting to set. You hadn't realized that you had spent half a day with Noah until you turned the headlights on.

Noah slipped into your passenger seat, legs so long that they almost needed to be folded over each other just to fit. He rummaged around for the mechanism to move the seat, and finally found it giving him more leg room as he slid back in the chair. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the sight.

“What? Man needs his leg room!” He throws his hands forward, motioning to his long limbs, which we’re still bent just to fit. You shook your head a little, playfully, and then pulled the car out to start your journey.

Noah directed you to his hotel, saying it was about a 10 minute drive from here.

“For someone just passing through, you sure do know your way around” you joke, keeping your eyes on the road. Noah, however, was looking at you, like you were having a full conversation, only glancing ahead to point you directions.

He was a passionate talker when he got out of his shell, spoke with his hands a lot. The boy couldn’t keep them still at one point he was almost twisted completely around just to emphasize the story he was telling. He had you in stitches, the way he recounted events and waited for your response, then gave you time to recover from a laughing fit before he continued. He watched you react to his words, he paid attention to the small details, the crinkles by your eyes when you laughed hard, how you would glance at him throughout the conversation to tell him you were listening, even the way your grip would twist around the steering wheel when he was describing a scary part of the story. He noticed everything about you. And you noticed him noticing you.

You had a moment of realization that he was just a person. A person who laughed, who cried, who’s been through shit and now, is just sitting in your car. The sudden wash of relief, the pressure you were feeling, just gone.

The drive comes to an end and you pull up outside the hotel. Nothing too fancy, just to get them through the night. You look up at the building, half its lights were switched on in the three-storey building.

You turn and look at Noah then, the glowing of the lights bouncing off his face making him look as angelic as ever, so much, that it actually made your heart skip a beat. Trying to make sure he didn’t notice the hitch in your breath, you twist at an awkward angle, reaching for the black hoodie on the back seat.

You couldn’t help by notice Noah lean to look over too, your faces now only an inch apart. So close that you could even feel his warm breath each over your cheek. It didn’t help the state of admiration you were already in.

Your fingers graze the material, grabbing at it and finally twisting back into your position in the drivers seat.

“I believe this belongs to you” you say, handing over the garnet.

“I thought I said…” he spoke, pausing to take the hoodie in his hands and hold it out by its sleeves. He then leaned towards you, stretching his arms above you and wrapping the piece of clothing around your back and over your arms, twisting it into a knot on your chest. “You could keep it.” He finished, smiling triumphantly.

The closeness had you feeling a little lightheaded, maybe because you felt like you forgot to breathe around him, or maybe the low lighting made this interaction feel way more intimate than it was.

“I guess…. Thank you” you say, looking into his eyes. All you could see was a sweet dark chocolate brown staring back at you.

Noah’s hand then takes yours as he plants a light kiss on the back of it, placing it back down into his hands again. You couldn’t help but stare with your mouth ajar slightly at the gentlemanly gesture.

“It’s my pleasure.” He pauses again, looking outside then back to you. “If… if I asked you out on a date, would you hesitate to show up to that too?” He asked, sounding honest in his intention, his eyes looked in your hands together.

“A date?” You gawk, almost too quickly. He nods. “I, uh, no. I wouldn’t.”

“Because I’m still in town tomorrow if you’re free.”

“Tomorrow… tomorrow…? Uhh..Nothing on the agenda that comes to mind.” Honestly, you had no idea if you actually had anything in tomorrow.

“Great. It’s a date. I’ll meet you here at 10?” He asks excitedly, that sweet lopsided grin making a comeback.

Your heart was beating through your chest, it was a miracle that he couldn’t hear it.

“10. That works. I’ll be here.” You say, not sounding that convincing.

“I hope so” he replies, paired with another wink. With that, he opens the car door, stepping outside, and closes it with a gentle thud behind him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a wave through the window. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, taking in the image of him gentle waving and glancing over his shoulder as he walks to the door. He enters safely, and on his way to his room.

That’s when the excitement hits. You grip the steering wheel tight and let out a squeal. That’s right, a squeal. You have never squealed before in your life, but this man has you feeling so giddy it’s unreal.

With a deep breath, you pull the car out again, heading home, already running through every possible scenario that could happen at 10am the next day.

Part 3

Masterlist

[bloodyjuls-blog]

WHAT IF I LOSE YOU (part 3)

(I will fight to not lose you) - Alexia Putellas

There was a moment in my life where I wanted to give up, where everything was beyond me and what can you expect from a girl who grew up in Sutton running around with a soccer ball and who is now a super star? Life has never been easy, when you reach your teenage years and your social life overlaps with training, match day, recovery days? The only thing left was to do everything from home, from parties to drinking. Everything was easier without my parents at home, to be honest I grew up having everything, a big house, money, freedom and what I loved most after alcohol.... Football. When you become a professional nobody tells you the responsibilities and the exposure you bring with that and even if they say that women's soccer lacks attraction then they should have it checked because the pressure I felt playing for arsenal or city was very high and brought with it the expectation of the Barcelona soccer club to bring a star, to speak on and off the pitch. My younger days I remember with the talks with my parents for not being good enough to be in a professional league, which then when I achieved it would break me little by little because alcohol never left me, the faithful companion of my adventures.... Everything became a problem, I drank until the wee hours and made sure I got enough rest to perform the minimum in my club. Then my sister brings us the news of her pregnancy and I don't deny it, I always wanted to be a mother but there was a moment when my world came crashing down and I rejected the idea.

Flashback

It was the decisive league match for arsenal. We were facing Chelsea for the FA cup and the pressure from above forced us to win. But things always go wrong, that day I think I had one of the worst games of my life. I missed a lot of chances, I was always out of position and the worst thing is that my family was watching me from the stands.

At the dinner with my family, my father very disappointed tells me: "daughter I do not understand you, they tell us to come to see you and you play a shitty game" to which I a little upset I tell him: "if you are not interested then do not come, this is soccer" at the end of dinner the mood is lowered but my father there is something that does not fit, since I tried the first shot of vodka has made me bad faces. While I approach to take Ruppert, already 5 years old, my father takes him away from me and tells me: "I don't understand how they can want you in a club if you are an alcoholic, and much less I am going to allow you to take care of your nephews being in the conditions you are, do you think I didn't notice your flash of whiskey you had in your backpack or that you are going back home drunk, if something happens to you don't even bother to call me because I am not going to come and save your ass, you understand? " My tears were falling from my eyes, he had hurt me in a way I never thought he could. After all he was my father and I was his not so favorite daughter.

End of the Flashback

Alexia pov

"Hello, Ana. Do you know where y/n is?" I ask through the line in a worried voice. "No Ale, the only thing I know is that she had been drinking and left driving the car, I guess I'm guessing she's already in her apartment" Ana replied calmly. "Fuck this can't be" exclaimed Ale as she tried to call you back. "Ah I know who to call, maybe she has information" she thought calmer.

"Hi Leah how are you? It's Alexia" said Alexia calmly "Hi Alexia, well to what do I owe your call?" Answered Leah quizzically "I was wondering if you know anything about y/n, she called me a while ago and left me a little worried" you could tell from Alexia's voice that something wasn't right. "Ale the truth I don't know where y/n/n could have gone, what I do tell you is to please take care of her, and help with the alcohol issue she is not having a good time, and I am worried that something might happen to her" said a little more concerted Leah. "Of course, come on I'll leave you, I have another call coming in."

She answers the other call....

"Hello, is this Ms. Alexia Putellas?" A calm voice asks on the other line. "Who is calling?" answers a curious Alexia. "Ma'am this is the receptionist at Egarsat hospital speaking, I was speaking to inform you that Miss y/n y/l has been involved in an accident and you are listed as the emergency contact" Alexia at that moment felt tears fall from her eyes "yes this is her, tell me how is she? Tell me how is she?" says Alexia desperately "Ma'am the only thing I can tell you is that if you can, please go to the hospital as soon as possible, the emergency reception will tell you where to go" "thank you" says Alexia with an agitated voice.

Note: sorry I know had passed a couple of month but I'm near to graduate and that makes me full time persone and busy schedule. Love you all loads

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 17 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: You have your final few days of training and the morning of the meeting finally arrives.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI. Very brief mention of suicide (while talking about Donna's past and her parents). No details mentioned, just mentioning the act itself. If you want to skip that part, skip to the dialogue after the paragraph starting with **.

Tags: fluff, light angst

Notes: Part 17! Sorry for the teeny tiny cliffhanger but we were reaching 5k words so I had to cut it off. Next chapter will dive straight into the meeting! Also, I re-read most of this the other day but I'm sick and don't have the mental capacity to go over it again so apologies for any errors!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

The following morning Cassandra woke you up before sunrise again for your last full day of training. Once you were warmed up she started sparring with you again and showing you different ways to get out of different kinds of grapples.

After breakfast she brought out one of her old daggers and handed it to you and taught you how to use it properly now that Karl was making you one of your own. Cassandra showed you how to wield it, and the different ways you can use it for defense and the occasional attack. Once she was satisfied with your movements she ran inside and grabbed a wooden dagger and used that to spar with you.

The first hour of the sparring session ended with her poking you with her wooden dagger in at least eight different places that would kill you. She grabbed Dani and used her as a model to point out where the main arteries in the body were and how to hit them to either kill your opponent or cause massive damage.

She continued sparring with you and teaching you how to block the most important parts of your body to avoid death or severe injury. After a few hours you were finally getting the hang of it and you decided to take a quick break for lunch. Zina brought out your lunches again and Bela and Daniela joined the two of you, all of you eating in the courtyard.

When you finished eating Cassandra quizzed you on the locations of the major arteries again and had you practice sheathing and unsheathing your dagger while you digested. After about an hour it was back to sparring. Once more you sparred with Bela and Daniela but this time they had the wooden dagger. Bela was hard to hit due to her defensive nature and you were able to get a few hits on Daniela because her moves were so erratic and chaotic. None of the hits you landed would have done much damage - no less kill someone - but the fact that you were able to hit her at all meant you were progressing well.

"Okay, now you'll have mother, Aunt Donna and Uncle Karl there to help you if shit goes sideways so you won't have to fight Miranda alone." Cassandra says.

"Which is a good thing because if you fought her alone you would definitely die." Daniela adds in.

"Oh yeah, without a doubt. You'd be super fucked. But even with the three of them Miranda is still stupid strong so it'll still be a really hard fight. Lets team up, you and Dani and me and Bela and we'll do a team match. This will encompass everything, grapples, defense, the daggers, you gotta be on your toes."

The match started and Daniela immediately went after Bela and Cassandra headed directly for you. You were able to fight her off for a decent amount of time before she grappled you. When you realized her grip on you was too strong you were able to grab your dagger and stab her in the leg and get out of it. Even though you missed the artery it was still enough damage to knock her off her game for a moment and get out of her grip.

It felt wrong attacking the girls. Even though you knew a stab like that was the equivalent of a papercut to them. Attacking them wasn't something you enjoyed. Although if you were being honest, attacking anyone wasn't something you enjoyed so at least when you go to stab someone else when they attack you you won't feel as bad as you do when you stab one of the girls.

Bela was able to knock Daniela down and headed over to you to assist Cassandra. Two on one was tough and you didn't last long at all. Although you lasted longer than you thought you would - meaning you were able to fight them off for about a minute instead of immediately being subdued. Bela managed to pin you down and when Daniela finally got over to you, Cassandra was quick to pin her, winning them the match.

The sound of applause rang through the air as Alcina walked over.

"Well done girls. Cassandra, your swordsmanship with the dagger was fantastic, Bela, wonderful defense, Daniela, I don't know how you always manage to keep your sisters on their toes, even after all of these years. And draga, you did a fantastic job, you held your own well. I'm very proud of all of you." She says with a smile. "Now girls, go get washed up, dinner will be soon."

The girls swarm up to give their mother kisses on her cheek and head inside. Alcina walks over to one of the benches and sits down. She pulls you into her lap and holds you close.

"I am very impressed draga mea, truly."

"You are?"

"Yes, I saw you stab Cassandra in the leg to get out of her grasp. Your quick thinking was impressive my love."

"Thanks. I really hope a fight doesn't break out at the meeting. It's one thing sparring with the girls, but with Miranda? I don't know, it makes me nervous."

"It makes me nervous too draga mea. But I'll be there with you and I won't let anything happen to you. Donna and Karl also swore to help protect you so you will be okay." She says.

"I'd hate to be the reason anyone got hurt."

Alcina kisses you on the head and you look up into her golden eyes. She smiles down at you and places a knuckle under your chin and leans down, capturing you lips with hers.

"I won't let anything happen to you, draga mea. I promise." She whispers against your lips.

"I know." You reply before kissing her again.

Alcina nuzzles you and the dinner bell rings.

The two of you walk into the dining room and the girls swarm in. Hunger hits you the moment you smell the delicious food and as soon as your plate it piled you dig in.

Alcina lets you sleep in a little the next morning and just as you're getting dressed the breakfast bell rings. After breakfast Cassandra reviews some of the things she's taught you over the last few days and the two of you finish up right before lunch.

The rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. Cassandra does another quick review with you after dinner and once the two of you are finished you head into your room and find Alcina drawing herself a bath.

"Ah, draga, there you are. How was it?"

"It was good, I was able to retain almost everything she taught me."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Would you like to join me?" She asks as she finishes taking off the rest of her clothes and steps into the tub.

You nod and pull off your clothes and toss them in the hamper. Alcina lifts you into the tub and sits you down in her lap with your back against her chest. Once you're comfortable you let out a sigh and lean into her. Alcina wraps her arms around you and kisses your neck.

You're completely enveloped by her, by her scent, by the feeling of her skin against yours, her warm breath skating across your neck. As stressed as you are over tomorrow's meeting you can't help but feel relaxed in her arms. When you're with her like this you feel more safe than you ever have in your life. Even after everything - all of the pain, the hurt, the heartbreak, she's still the one that brings you more comfort than anyone else ever has. If you tried making sense of it you'd surely get a migraine. But right here, in her arms, you're safe. And that's all that matters.

"How are you feeling about tomorrow?" You ask her.

"It's difficult to know how to feel when I don't know what her intentions are, draga. If it were solely about the hunters I would say I am prepared and looking forward to coming up with a plan to deal with them. Although yes, the hunters will certainly be discussed because they are a topic of concern, I know Miranda and I know she's not asking you to be there to solely take notes."

"Are you afraid of her?"

Alcina pauses for a moment to contemplate your question as her fingers mindlessly trace patterns across your skin.

"Yes and no."

"How so?"

"I am not afraid of her for myself. She is incredibly powerful and even though it would not be easy, she could certainly kill me. But I know she won't. She needs myself and the rest of the lords to keep the village under her thumb as she searches for her perfect vessel. And since I do most of the work she knows that killing me would be a mistake. But I fear for the day that she deems us unnecessary because when that day comes, she won't hesitate killing all of us. Her power is nearly limitless and I have no doubt that she will do anything and everything to succeed in finding a suitable vessel for Eva. Even if it means destroying everything around her to do so. Until then she will do whatever she feels is necessary to keep us, the lords, in line. I'm also worried that she is going to try and hurt you to hurt me. I wouldn't put it past her to do something like that again and that scares me, draga mea."

She sighs and holds you tight, nuzzling her nose into your hair. As you take in her words, the word "again" sticks out.

"What do you mean 'again?'"

"Lets finish up in here and I'll tell you in bed."

You nod and you both finish bathing. After drying off and putting on pajamas you crawl into bed and curl under Alcina's chin. Alcina holds you close and continues.

"Many years ago, decades ago at this point, Karl had a paramour. It wasn't someone he truly loved but he did care for them. They were a worker at his factory and the two of them began spending time together. Karl began slacking off to spend more time with them; Mother Miranda got wind of it and she was less than pleased. One day they went missing. Mother Miranda called a meeting and none of us knew why until we arrived and saw Karl's paramour chained down at her feet. She said they were nothing but a nuisance and they were only causing trouble, distracting Karl from her goal of finding a perfect vessel. She ordered Karl to kill them and he refused. Mother Miranda was going to kill them but instead I offered. Karl was furious but I knew that whatever Miranda was going to do, she was going to make them suffer horrifically because Karl refused her. She relented and I was the one who killed them. It was the only time I ever apologized to someone before I killed them. They knew that this was a mercy kill and that Miranda would have done much worse so it was also the only time someone had thanked me for doing it. Miranda was pleased and allowed me to take their body back to the castle to do what I pleased with it. Karl came over the next day and he was so angry, he thought I drained their blood and turned them into one of the vineyards scarecrows. But I didn't, instead I cleared a small spot on the edge of the woods and had them buried. Karl was grateful and after we had a conversation he understood why I did what I did. Karl was still relatively new and hadn't seen Miranda's wrath like I had. He knew refusing her would anger her but he didn't realize she would have taken it out on their paramour instead of himself."

"Is that why he hates Miranda?"

"One of the reasons. He hated her well before that incident. She had kidnapped him and infected him with the cadou when she found out that he was one of the descendants of the four founders of the village. He never got a say in the matter like I did. She just took him and forced it upon him."

"That's so horrible. Why didn't he just leave after he got the cadou?"

"It's difficult to explain but in the end he wasn't able to. Miranda would have hunted him down. Once we were given the cadou, whether or not we had a choice in the matter, we were forced to stay. She was also able to influence him to stay."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone takes to the cadou differently. I have a theory that those with a higher affinity to the cadou are less affected by Miranda's control. To a certain extent, Miranda controls the mold because her powers were given to her by the Black God, which is where the mold comes from. Since the cadou contains the mold, by extension Miranda has a certain amount of control over it."

"So can she control you?"

"Not necessarily. I believe she has a certain amount of influence over me, but no, she cannot control me because I have a higher affinity to it. For example, the moroaicǎ and lycans have almost no affinity to the cadou so Miranda can control them if she wanted to. In the past she has, but she generally she views them as a waste of time so she gave Karl the job of overseeing the lycans and myself the moroaicǎ."

"So how can you tell who does and doesn't have a higher affinity to it?"

"My theory is that the more mutated the subject, the less affinity they have towards it. The moroaicǎ and lycans are at the bottom, they are the most mutated and most easily controllable therefore have the lowest affinity. Next comes Salvatore, whom you haven't met yet. He is severely mutated and will do anything to please Miranda. Next I believe is Donna. Although her only mutation is on her face, she is very mentally unstable which leads me to believe that Miranda can more easily influence her."

"How is she mentally unstable?"

Alcina lets out a sigh as her fingers dance across your skin.

**"It is quite a tragic story. Many years ago, before she received the cadou, her sister, Claudia, died. Donna was very young when it happened and her parents were unable to deal with the death of their child so they committed suicide together leaving Donna all alone."

"Oh my god, that's horrible."

"It was horrific. After they died she isolated herself and developed severe depression and anxiety. When she received the cadou, she took part of hers and put it into Angie and now primarily uses Angie to speak when she's around mixed company."

"Wait, so Donna is that chaotic?"

Alcina laughs and shakes her head.

"Gods no, Donna uses Angie to speak but the cadou granted Angie her own personality. Part of me believes some of the things Angie says are the thoughts Donna would never say out loud but that is just mere speculation."

"So how do you know when it's Donna talking or Angie?"

"Donna's voice comes through Angie."

"Oh, got it."

"Yes. So because of Donna's mental illness, she is more easily influenced by Miranda but since her and I have formed and alliance that influence has been fading."

"How about you and Karl?"

"Based on my mutation theory, I would be next given," Alcina gestures to her body. "and Miranda does have some influence over me, but not much. I have retained enough of my own cognitive abilities to not fall completely under her influence. There are times where I can feel her influence and if I so chose to I can ignore it. But the pull is there."

"Is it hard to ignore?"

"In the beginning it was, but now not so much."

"Can she tell when you ignore it?"

"Yes, but only because when I do, I am not doing what she wants so she knows her influence on me has failed. Whether she knows I consciously ignore her or not is still a mystery."

"So Karl has the highest affinity to the cadou?"

"As much as I loathe to admit it, yes. Which is also why I refuse to relay this theory to him because I would never hear the end of it. But he has no visible physical mutations, at least that I am aware of. And he hates Miranda more than any of us. He refuses to do anything she asks unless it directly benefits him and he has no desire for her acceptance or approval."

"Do you have any desire for her acceptance or approval?"

Alcina pauses for a moment and you look up at her. She has a faraway look in her eyes before she looks down at you and sighs.

"Truthfully? Yes." You feel the hairs on your arms raise at her answer. Not that you're completely surprised, but hearing her say it out loud makes it real, too real. "It's complicated. There is a part of me that yearns for her acceptance. There's a part of me that's willing to do nearly anything for her. I understand how ridiculous that may sound but after so many years of being under her rule, it's difficult to not want acceptance from the person who essentially created you. And since she rarely shows her approval of anyone the thought of being one of the few becomes almost addicting. She has done a lot for me. She saved my life, although it was under false pretenses. Still, I am still alive because of her. She gifted me the girls, gave me the castle, the vineyard, and the business so I had a way of supporting myself. She has done a lot for me, for my family. In a way in feel indebted to her for those things. But at the same time I hate her. I can't stand what she's done to me, how she's manipulated me and used me over the years." She tightens her grip around you as she thinks back on her past history with Miranda. "I despise how she treats my daughters poorly. I hate that after everything I do for her, after everything I've done, she still views me the same as the rest of them. It aggravates me to no end."

"So you hate her, but at the same time you want to be her favorite? You know that sounds crazy, right?"

Alcina chuckles and rolls her eyes at you.

"I said is was complex, draga."

"Complex is an understatement." You say with a laugh.

Alcina shakes her head and runs her fingers through your hair. An unsettling energy fills the room as the two of you think about tomorrow's meeting.

"Even though I feel that pull of her influence, even though I crave her acceptance, I will never let her hurt you. I don't want you to think for a moment that I won't do everything I possibly can to protect you, draga."

"I know." You say, cuddling into her more.

"Good. Now try and get some sleep draga mea. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Her fingers comb through your hair and you feel her nails scratching at your scalp. She holds you a little closer after pulling the duvet over the both of you.

Even though you're tired you can't seem to fall asleep. Anxiety begins to creep its was into your chest and you cling to Alcina a little tighter.

"Rest, draga. I can hear your heartbeat from a mile away."

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous."

"So am I, but you need to sleep."

"I can't."

Alcina lays you on top of her, resting your head on her chest. One of her large hands scratches at your scalp as the other traces patterns across your back.

"Close your eyes, draga mea. I have you. I will protect you, I promise."

"I know you will. And I love you so much for that."

"I love you too."

Alcina starts singing, her fingers moving perfectly in time with the song and your eyes start to flutter shut. Even though you don't know what song it is since it's in Romanian, whatever she's singing is soothing and begins to lull you to sleep.

Alcina hears your breathing and heartrate settle and knows you finally drifted off. She finds herself having a hard time falling asleep - she's too anxious about tomorrow's meeting. But the soft sounds of your snores help her to relax and a little while later she dozes off into a restful sleep.

The following morning you wake up in the same exact position you fell asleep in; laying on top of Alcina with her arms wrapped tightly around you. Alcina feels you stir in her arms and brushes the hair away from your eyes.

"Good morning, draga mea." She says with a kiss to your head.

"Good morning." You say with a yawn as you stretch out on top of her and curl back up in her arms. "Did you stay here all night or did you get up to work and pull me back on top of you when you came back to bed?"

"No, draga." She says with a chuckle. "I stayed here all night with you."

You didn't say anything in response, just a light chuckle and then you nuzzled your face into her neck. Here in bed, in her arms, it was safe. You were safe. There wasn't a single part of either of you that wanted to get out of bed this morning. Neither of you wanting to leave the comfort and safety of each others embrace. The thought of starting the day made you a little anxious but after taking a deep breath and filling you nose with the scent of Alcina's skin and shampoo, your anxiety melted away and you relaxed into her.

"Can we stay here forever?" You asked as your lips brushed against her skin while your face was buried into her neck.

"I wish, draga mea. I wish." She sighed.

Reluctantly, the two of you finally got out of bed. The meeting was taking place in the chapel at the castle shortly after breakfast so both you and Alcina started getting yourselves ready for the day.

Alcina put on her usual floor-length cream dress, leather gloves, pearls, and her hat. The two of you decided that it was best that you wore the uniform that her handmaidens normally wear. She was sure that Miranda knew the relationship between the two of you was past the point of you just being her handmaid but in order to keep appearances up you both decided wearing the uniform was the way to go.

Once Alcina was finished fixing her hair and makeup the two of you headed down to the dining room for breakfast. Just as you were walking in the girls swarmed in and appeared in their seats.

"Good morning mother!" The girls said in unison.

"Good morning daughters." She said.

You could tell the girls wanted to ask how you and Alcina were feeling about the meeting but none of them dared to. They could tell Alcina was already on edge and they didn't want to make her worse. The nerves in your belly slowly but surely began to build as the time to leave creeped closer. Even though you weren't hungry you forced yourself to eat a decent meal because you knew you were going to need the energy.

Breakfast was quiet and the tension in the air steadily built as the time passed. Every so often you would look over at Alcina and every time you did you noticed she was further and further away mentally. You could tell that her mind was heavily focused on the meeting and that the newspaper in her hand was just a front. The only reason you knew that was because she stayed on the same page throughout the entire meal yet burned through at least four cigarettes. She looked as if she was rereading the same sentence over and over again as her mind wandered. By the time breakfast was over her eyebrows were so closely knit together they nearly became one.

When the girls finished eating they all kissed their mother on the cheek and wished her luck at the meeting. Daniela and Bela gave you a hug before they left and Cassandra punched you on the shoulder and mumbled "don't die." before swarming away.

As the girls left Zina entered the dining room.

"Pardon me, my Lady." She said to Alcina, whose eyes were back on the newspaper. "Lady Beneviento and Lord Moreau have arrived."

Alcina looked up and nodded before taking a sharp inhale and putting the paper down. She took one final drag of her cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray and downed the rest of her wine in one large gulp. Removing the napkin sitting on her lap, she carefully dabbed the corners of her lips and looked towards you and back to Zina.

"I made sure the chapel was stocked with extra wine. One bottle of sanguis virginis and the rest of your finest vintage, my Lady."

"Thank you Zina, your fine attention to detail never goes unnoticed."

"My pleasure, my Lady."

"Ready, draga?" Alcina asks you. You nod in response and she stands up. "We shall be off then."

As Alcina walks past Zina, Zina hands her her cigarette holder with a lit cigarette already sitting at the end. Alcina nods at Zina with a small smile and leaves. As you walk past Zina she stops you by putting her hand on your shoulder.

"Be careful." She whispers with a small squeeze before removing her hand and heading back towards the kitchen.

Alcina expertly guides you through the castle halls. Once you leave the main part of the castle you notice that the halls are less ornate. The smooth stone walls slowly turn more jagged and unkept and the cracks in the floor grow until the stones beneath your feet are uneven. You've never seen any part of the castle in such a state of despair before. Alcina doesn't say a word the entire time. The juxtaposition of her and your current surroundings is a fascinating one. Her steps are purposeful and she's as elegant as ever as she strides through her domain. Alcina is a woman of elegance, of nobility, she's a queen roaming the halls of her castle. Yet the current surroundings show evidence of disarray. The further down the hall you walk the worse it gets. Alcina would never let the main areas of the castle look like this. If a spec of dust is left behind she throws a fit. You wonder why she's allowed this area to fall apart so much, seemingly without care.

She leads you to a large door and turns towards you. As you finish taking in your surroundings you look up at her. There must have been a look of confusion on your face as you took in the crumbling walls around you because you hear Alcina sigh.

"As you know, I take pride in keeping my castle in top shape so I am sure the passageway has been rather out of the ordinary." You nod your head in response. "This side of the castle sustained extensive damage during the war and I was never able to properly conduct the repairs. The dilapidated state ended up keeping wandering maids away and it warded off unwanted visitors. It was far too much trouble to repair it and since it provided almost guaranteed privacy for these meetings I allowed it to remain in such a despicable state."

"Got it. That makes sense." You say with a small smile. Alcina returns the gesture but her smile doesn't reach her eyes.

She takes a deep breath and exhales. Her eyes stay on the floor and she looks like she is having trouble saying something.

"Are you okay?" You ask.

"Yes. I have something to ask of you, and I hate that I have to ask this of you."

"What is it?"

"In order to attempt to keep appearances up, I don't think it would be wise for you to," she pauses for a moment. "for you to call me Alcina during the meeting." She says quietly. Her eyes flick up to yours and they're filled with concern. "I know we are well past formalities but I'm worried about Miranda as it is and if she hears you call me by my given name, I fear it will make things worse."

Alcina starts to ramble a little and you take a step forward and reach out to grab her hand.

"Hey," you say, looking into her eyes. "I get it, it's okay. I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, my Lady." You say with a smirk.

Alcina releases a breath that sounds like a sigh of relief and she cups your face with her hand.

"I truly don't know what I ever did in my life to deserve you, draga mea." She whispers.

The two of you share a moment as you gaze into each others eyes. Angie's cackle rings out on the other side of the door, effectively ruining the moment the two of you were having. Alcina closes her eyes and takes a grounding breath before adjusting her posture and putting her "countess" mask back on.

"Stay by my side and do not do anything unless I give you the okay. Understand?"

"Yes, my Lady."

She nods in approval and looks at the door and back to you.

"Shall we?" She asks.

You nod in response and she pulls a key out of the band around her hat. The door unlocks with a soft "click" and swings open. Alcina returns the key and she ducks under the doorframe, making her way into the chapel.

"Here goes nothing." You think to yourself before following behind her.