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adoringhaikyuu · 3 years

Text

when their teammate has a crush on you | 2

characters: akaashi + kyoutani + osamu + tendou

request: aaaaaaa!! i was stalking your feed when i thought of something 👉🏻👈🏻so you did a "when their teammate has a crush on you" and i reaaaally loved it a lot🥺could you do it with tendou, akaashi, kyoutani, and osamu? if you want to!! • by @kalesugar

warnings: osamu and tendou’s are suggestive

notes: since osamu’s and tendou’s are sexual, everyone is 18+ in those but in the others there is no smut + (i might write a fic about tendou’s bc i’ve been wanting to write a smut w them idk if people want that)

part one | part two

akaashi:

so bokuto might have had a little crush on you

and it’s not like he would actually do anything about it

he respected you and akaashi and your relationship way too much

he even rooted for you two to get together, he thought you were perfect for each other (you were)

but he couldn’t help the way his heart would beat faster when you were around sometimes, the way his eyes would immediately drift to you when you walked in a room, the way your smile made him feel all tingly inside

he was honestly just waiting the feelings out and tried to act normal around you

he told akaashi about his crush on you cause he didn’t want to hide anything from him

and your boyfriend understood why he would have a crush on you, he couldn’t blame him––but that doesn’t mean he was too happy about it

realistically he wasn’t going to ban him from seeing you or anything, you were allowed to interact

but part of him felt a little odd when bokuto would make jokes with you, a light blush on his cheeks that you most likely assumed was from his laughter

bokuto sure was making you laugh a lot tonight. the three of you were hanging out at his place for your weekly hangout and it seemed he just had an endless amount of jokes. it’s not that akaashi didn’t like his jokes, it’s just that he didn’t like that it seemed as though his best friend was making the jokes for the sole purpose of making you laugh.

he thought he was doing a good job at hiding his inner thoughts, but in reality, you had picked up on them almost immediately. you waited until you were in the comfort of akaashi’s home, where you were staying the night, to ask him about it when you noticed he wasn’t going to bring it up himself.

“is something bothering you? could tell you weren’t really here tonight.”

he looked away and shrugged, and you stepped closer to him.

“is it...maybe because bokuto has a little crush on me?”

he held his breath for a second in shock as he looked at you silently, blinking a few times. “you...you know?”

you shrugged, a small smile on your face. “i had a feeling. i mean, your facial expressions may be minimal but i can still decode them keiji.” he blushed and looked down, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “i could tell you were watching him a little more closely when he would talk to me.”

“i...i trust him, i do.” he looked into your eyes, “and i trust you too. it’s just...it doesn’t really make me feel too good knowing that bokuto-san,” he muttered the next part, “with all his muscles and charm––has feelings for you.”

you shook your head and put your hands on his cheeks to look into his eyes earnestly. “you have nothing to worry about baby, i promise that. you’re the only man i have eyes for.”

his hands found their spot on your waist as he gave you a small, but grateful and loving smile. “i know. i love you.” he kissed you lightly and you smiled against his mouth.

“love you too. so much.”

kyoutani:

let’s say oikawa likes you––

well more-so that he finds you attractive and can’t help but flirt with you from time to time harmlessly

kyoutani doesn’t give a fuck sfkjdh he will growl at his captain

sometimes he’s not even in the mood, he’ll just take your hand or throw you over his shoulder while you’re talking to oikawa and just walk away

meanwhile oikawa is just pouting and complaining to your boyfriend as he blatantly ignores him

“you know it’s not very nice to interrupt a conversation like that, mad-dog!”

oikawa wouldn’t actually try to steal you away from your boyfriend, but he did have some genuine questions that were borderline offensive sdfjghs

like “how did mad-dog manage to get you?”

“are you sure you’re not being held against your will?”

bottom line is, your boyfriend is not happy

he will try to prevent you from even being in his captain’s line of sight

he’ll step in front of you or turn around and go another way

when oikawa approached you after the game, strategically waiting for your boyfriend to go get his things so he’d have more time to talk to you, you knew it was only a matter of time before you were snatched away by a growling kyoutani.

his plan kind of work, considering the conversation lasted about thirty seconds? longer than it normally did. the captain was leaning against the wall next to you, his arm above your head as you looked up at him, completely unaffected by his charming eyes––you appreciated the effort he took to talk to you, but you knew he was just a natural flirt at heart.

he was mid-sentence when your boyfriend came storming up to the two of you and grabbed your hand, marching you away from the complaining boy. you just laughed and squeezed his hand, “you know i thought you would have gotten tired of doing that by now.” he grumbled in response and you tugged his hand and led him to a quiet corner.

he was looking down at the floor but you put a hand under his chin and made him look you in the eyes, your small smile making him calm down a bit. “you have to stop letting him get to you like this. you know i’d never entertain his flirting––i’m yours.”

he clenched his jaw and nodded, looking to the side when he heard his captain walking by. you turned his head to face you again and surprised him with a kiss and his hands came up to squeeze your waist. he groaned into your mouth and you pulled away to look at him.

“that’s a good way to calm me down.”

you smiled, “oh yeah?”

he nodded, “yeah” and put his lips back on yours.

osamu:

so atsumu may or may not have had a crush on you

and yes you were dating his brother

no he wasn’t going to steal you (though he thinks he absolutely could if he wanted to), he respects you both and your relationship

and he loves how happy you make his brother

...but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t check you out sometimes or harmlessly flirt with you (he can’t help it, have you seen yourself?)

osamu would catch his brother ogling at you all the time, or hanging around in the room when you’re over for no reason

he’d usually just smack his head and tell him to fuck off

or he’d take a different approach––

you were really trying to pay attention to atsumu’s story, or whatever it is he was saying, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of osamu’s lips on your neck, and his hand running along your thigh, the other gripping your waist as you sat practically on him on the couch.

the two of you were spending time together, alone, when atsumu came in, and decided to third-wheel. you didn’t really have a problem with it, but by the way your boyfriend soon pulled you into his lap to distract himself, and most certainly you as well––you could tell he was bothered.

atsumu trailed off and scratched his neck awkwardly, laughing. “do you guys wanna get a room or something?” he joked and his brother barely lifted his head, hands pulling you even closer.

“we did get a room, you came in here.”

atsumu rolled his eyes. “so how long are you planning on assaulting y/n’s neck for?”

osamu lifted his head, annoyance radiating off of him and brought one hand up to tilt your head towards his, his lips grazing yours. “unless you want to see us fuck, you should leave.”

atsumu blushed but smirked, “i mean...”

osamu glared at him. “get out.”

tendou:

so when you and tendou started dating, you obviously started hanging out with him more, but also ushijima

it’s not like ushijima was expecting to develop feelings for you

he didn’t want to––he honestly even searched up how to stop a crush from progressing

he always thought you were nice and good looking but after hanging out with you more, that’s when he realized he liked your personality too and that you were a good person

he waited a little longer before telling tendou––yeah he told him

but tendou had already figured it out, his eyes picking up on the way ushijima was a little more tense or aware of himself when you were around

the way he would smile and blush when you hugged him goodbye

if anything, tendou thought it was cute

he got you on board with his idea and after you all graduated, you both put the plan in action

ushijima was sat at the edge of the bed, looking at you and his best friend in confusion, “i thought you said my graduation present was in here?”

your boyfriend stood behind you, arms circling around your waist as he peered over your shoulder, his eyes piercing and teasing as he stared at the boy on the bed. “well you see ushi, after you told me about your little crush––which i’m assuming you still have?”

he nodded unashamed, and unblinking as he looked at the two of you and you felt a tingle run down your body.

tendou went on, “well after that, i figured you might want to have some fun with the two of us,” he kissed your neck teasingly and the brown-haired boy shifted a bit on the bed, clearly itching to touch you. “we both agreed that it was a great idea.” he brought his attention back to your neck and you figured that was your cue to take over.

“so what do you say, ushi?” you sighed softly when tendou sucked a mark onto your sweet spot and you noticed ushijima’s eyes darken. “do you want this graduation present?”

he licked his lips and scooted forward, his hands squeezing his thighs almost painfully hard. “yes. please–”

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anashins · 3 years

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If You're Willing to Kiss || Taeyong

“If you’re willing to kiss, then let’s show him what he’s missing out on.”

During a stupid round of spin the bottle, your crush kisses someone else, but you make sure that he'll regret it very soon.

_____

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” the people in the circle chanted and clapped their hands simultaneously to the rhythm of their voices.

You watched in rigidity as your female best friend and your crush Jaehyun were about to kiss each other.

Reluctantly, they crawled to the middle of the circle as the chants only increased in their volume the closer they approached the spot until they were awkwardly sitting in front of each other, almost not daring to look into the opposite’s eyes, their cheeks visibly flushed.

At the same time, your heart broke into a thousand pieces.

You hadn’t signed up voluntarily to play this stupid game of spin the bottle as you sure had better things to do on a friday night, like reading or sleeping.

But you couldn’t have said no when Jaehyun had tagged you along to this party as all your friends were coming as well.

At first, you had been excited about it, because wherever Jaehyun went, you would willingly join him as you always wanted to spend as much time with your crush as possible.

After years of having hidden your feelings, tonight you had gathered enough courage to finally make a move.

But now he was about to kiss your best friend, and you felt utterly devastated as you watched how they slowly pressed their lips onto each other.

The people before had only shared light pecks without even touching one another at other parts, but Jaehyun and your best friend did not only kiss longer than required, they also started to put their hands on each other’s bodies, not minding the cheering crowd at all as though they had drifted off to their own world.

You felt sick in your stomach, murmured something along the lines of a hurried apology and excused yourself to the bathroom.

Splashing water into your face, you looked into the mirror while your fingers gripped so tightly onto the sink that your knuckles turned white in the process.

No wonder, you had always felt like that your best friend was a hundred times more beautiful and intelligent than you. Every guy wanted to go out with her, then why not Jaehyun as well?

You had seen the way they turned shy, the way they flushed at each other, and then the way they shared a chaste, yet deep first kiss with 20 other people as witnesses. You may be in love, but you weren’t naive.

If one kiss could change everything, then this had been the kiss.

The kiss he had been supposed to share with you. The kiss you had wanted to save up until it was now too late.

And before the first tears started running, you wanted to go home. Nobody would care anyway.

“Y/n, are you in there?” you suddenly heard from the other side of the closed bathroom door.

It was Taeyong, Jaehyun’s close friend, and the only one who knew about your secret crush.

“Yes, I’ll come out soon, no worries!”

You had forgotten that he was also here, but he hadn’t participated in this round of spin the bottle anyway.

Taeyong only knew about your crush because you had once poured out your heart to him when you were drunk, and until this day, you regretted it deeply as he never failed to miss a chance to tease you about this.

But always, he had kept his lips sealed in front of Jaehyun, and for this, you were grateful.

So of course he would now be the only one knowing about your true feelings after having witnessed your best friend and crush kissing each other.

Yet, you tried not to let any of your true emotions slip as you opened the door and faced him with the brightest fake smile you could pull off.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t feeling well. I think I’m going home.”

“Uh-huu…”

Taeyong inspected you from head to toe, and then decided that he wasn’t satisfied with this answer.

“You sure about this or are you just affected by the clownery Jaehyun has just pulled off?”

It had been a given that you couldn’t lie to him about this topic. Somehow, he must have gotten wind of what had happened. Perhaps, he had also purposely followed you to the bathroom.

You were just asking yourself why.

“Look, Taeyong, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Lately,” he started, “he has been talking about her a lot.”

You hesitated and gulped. “About… my best friend…?”

Silently, he nodded, confirming your fears and making your stomach churn. It hurt you more than anything ever before, and you were rendered motionless.

“I want to go home,” you then said in the same robotic manner.

At home, you could pour all your feelings out and finally started crying instead of staying at this place where you had to watch them getting closer and your best friend taking the place at your crush’s side that was supposed to be yours.

“Either that or you could stay,” Taeyong suggested.

You frowned. “Why would I want to stay?”

“Jaehyun is an extremely jealous person. If he sees you with someone else, he might regret it and realize that it’s you that he wants.”

“That’s stupid,” you judged and crossed your arms.

“How long have we been knowing each other, y/n?” Taeyong asked. “Long enough for me to know that if you don’t do something now, you will whine about it for ten years, and - no offence - I don’t have the time and patience to hear about your unrequited love for much longer. Either you do something now or you let go of him.”

“It’s already too late,” you commented dryly and wanted to pass by him, but he grabbed you by your arm, making you stop.

“Are these the words of a young woman who had fought her way through the crowd to the first row to see her favorite band up close, elbowing people to the left and right? They’re not! They’re also not the words of someone who had threatened an online seller with an imaginary consumer advice centre when they didn’t want to return her money! And you want to let him go just like that? If there was anything you have taught me, y/n, then it’s the fact that it’s never too late.”

Turning keen-eared, you asked, “So what do you suggest?”

Shortly after, you found yourself being part of the spin the bottle circle again.

Of course your eyes hadn’t missed out on the longing gazes Jaehyun and your best friend were throwing at each other while more and more people gathered in the middle of the circle to amuse the crowd with their kisses.

You were angry on the inside, but also full of nervousness as the bottle spun again and Taeyong jumped up, paused, and then reached out his hand to make it stop at the right time.

And the bottleneck was pointing directly at you. You inhaled deeply.

“Hey Taeyong, you wanna kiss her so badly or what?” someone shouted.

Another one added with a laughter, “He’s finally shooting his shot.”

“Shut up, the bottle is pointing at her, so that’s the rules.”

No one complained though as he crawled to the middle and you did the same. It was as though the crowd, your fellow students, actually had been wanting to see you two kiss for a long time, and you wondered whether you were right with your suggestion and why they would think that way.

Taeyong… he had always been there by Jaehyun’s side. He was Jaehyun’s friend, not yours.

Even though he always helped you with homework when you forgot yours. Even though he always handed you water at parties to keep you sobered. Even though he always gave you a ride when you missed the bus. Even though he always made you laugh when you were sad about Jaehyun again.

Even though, in a situation like this, he wanted to help you again.

There were many things Lee Taeyong did for you, yet you had never considered him your friend.

You wondered whether he felt the same way when he leaned in to you.

“If you’re willing to kiss, then let's show him what he’s missing out on,” he whispered only for you to hear. “If you’re willing to kiss, then close your eyes.”

But before you did as you had been told, you threw a last gaze at Jaehyun who looked at you with a mouth slightly agape.

Surprised that it might work, you grinned inwardly as Taeyong’s lips brushed over yours.

It had been so long that you last kissed someone, but from the first moment on, he proved to you that he was indeed a very good kisser.

Taeyong’s lips moved with yours in a very chaste way that had even something romantic to it, and it surprised you, to say the least. It was not even the manner in which Taeyong kissed you that gave you this feeling, but the way he made you feel, the emotion he delivered.

So comfortable, so warm, and raw, and you wondered whether this had been his intention all along or whether this was the usual manner in which he kissed.

So you didn’t wonder when you suddenly noticed him leaning in to you and bending your body to the point of you having to wrap your arms around his neck to look for support so as to not fall backwards, yet you didn’t stop.

Before, you had agreed on fake kissing passionately to rub it under Jaehyun’s nose, but truth to be told, the line between faking and reality slowly started to blur as you genuinely began to enjoy kissing Taeyong.

With his hands now holding onto either side of your waist, he parted your lips to deepen the kiss, and you gladly let him do so.

Even when he started using his tongue, you didn’t make him stop like he had asked you to before in case it would get too much, but you didn’t want him to just yet and pulled him even closer.

You only stopped in the moment Jaehyun interfered with an, “Enough now, it’s only a game!”

But when you pulled away and looked into Taeyong’s sparkling eyes that radiated so much fondness, you wondered how you could have missed the affection he had been holding towards you all this time.

You didn’t care much about Jaehyun’s opinion anymore. Or who he was kissing.

Because if one kiss could change everything, then this had been the kiss for you.

#taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fluff #taeyong x you #taeyong x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct x you #nct x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop x you #my writing #imagine #ah it's soft hours again

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ellewords · 3 years

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atsumu was like the sun. he shined and glowed and warmed people just by being near them. without a single thought, he was able to brighten the mood in ways that no one else could. even on his darker days or when his being felt too harsh, he left an impact that made everyone long for more. you couldn’t always see him, couldn’t always feel his presence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there somehow, unseen but known.

by association, that sort of made you the moon. you could shine brightly and leave a warm glow and comfort others when they felt like they were in the dark. but all of that wasn’t possible without the sun. without atsumu.

people didn’t know you unless you were by atsumu’s side. they didn’t spare you a glance until atsumu brought attention to you. but you didn’t mind. all you wanted was to have him by your side, to support you when you couldn’t hold yourself up, to be brilliant beside him even if you would never outshine him. you were content in your current situation.

so why did it hurt so much seeing him continue to shine? why did his warmth suddenly feel so cold? why couldn’t you be as bright as him all on your own?

or, atsumu will always be the sun, you always the moon. maybe now it’s time to accept that you’re nothing without him so you can finally shine for yourself.

-💛

— from elle ! 💛anon you never miss, do you? aaaa this was so good it lived in my head rent free ever since i first read it >_< i just had to write an addition to this for the way you made my heart actually ache. i hope i did your drabble justice :<< this just hit a lil too close to home ngl thank you for reading everyone, i hope you like this! reblogs are appreciated, they help a ton <3

fic notes / warnings : timeskip!miya atsumu x gn!reader, angst, fluff (-ish? kinda) ending, oneshot, wc: ~1.52k (!! my longest margins addition so far omg)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

atsumu has a gravitational pull, that much has always been clear to you and everyone else; a pull so strong that you can’t help but orbit around him. every room he walks into, he commands the attention of everyone present. one can’t help but simply be drawn to him — with his bright smiles, boisterous laughs, and larger than life movements. it’s no wonder why everything seems to bend to his will, how the universe seems to revolve around him.

you’ve moved around him for as long as you can remember, every now and then, he lets you borrow his light. the world has associated you with him and you don’t blame anyone one bit.

his name has always come first. setter for the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. invited to the all-japan youth intensive training camp, miya atsumu. captain of the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu.

meanwhile, yours is treated as an afterthought, an attachment, a footnote in the awe-inspiring narrative of his life. you’re known as his childhood friend. his best friend, the one who cheers him on from the stands in every single one of his games. alleged significant other, according to whispers in the hallway and to the tabloids and paparazzi. his eventual confirmed significant other, ln yn.

atsumu and who’s that with him? atsumu and his best friend. atsumu and his significant other. atsumu, oh, and yn’s here too. it’s always atsumu before yn; his name before yours. sometimes, you wonder if anyone would know your name if he hadn’t started dating you.

you walk behind atsumu, not beside him, when you enter a room. fingertips loosely intertwined with his, you attempt to keep your head up as atsumu introduces you around. they spare you a quick “hi”, before beginning a conversation with your sun.

though he’s not really your sun, is he? you’ve always had to share him with everyone else. everyone needs a little sunshine in their life, a little warmth; his brilliance is dazzling, like everyone else, you revelled in his glow.

the world has always associated you with him, but it never worked the other way around. atsumu has always shined on his own; you needed him to have light for yourself.

no one blames the sun for burning a little too bright; it’s simply the way it is. similarly, you’ve never blamed atsumu for being the way he is. he doesn’t know, didn’t mean to do it in the first place. atsumu has always existed for himself, lived life the way he sees fit.

you can’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to. even if you forced yourself to.

staring at the sun is fascinating, but do it long enough and it starts to hurt. the warmth is no longer comforting, but harsh and prickly. the light is no longer magical and dazzling, but blinding and terrifying. it took some time, but you eventually convinced yourself to look away.

“ya sure ya wanna do this?” atsumu asked, immediately recognizing your hesitance. he doesn’t want to break up, he wants you to take your words back, he wants you to tell him that this was all just some sick prank. but right now, it doesn’t matter what he wants. what matters is how you feel, the emotions he didn’t realize you had been feeling.

“no…” you mumbled. the intensity of his gaze makes your knees buckle, but you stand your ground. even in the chilling darkness of his living room, he radiates light and understanding, making everything all the more difficult. you bite the inside of your cheek, letting a few beats pass before your next words, “but i have to.”

“i believe in you,” atsumu nodded, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans. he lets out a quiet exhale, eyes gazing on the suitcases in your hand, “yer gonna do so many amazin’ things.”

your grip on the bag’s handle tightened. it was the end of an era, one that you didn’t expect would be ending at all. but it had to be done. for the first time since you met atsumu, you finally began to think of yourself. a small smile plays on your lips, hoping that he picks up on the pure gratefulness of your tone, “thank you for lending me your light.”

his reply would play in a loop in your mind. even in a breakup, the darkest the night has ever been, atsumu offers you a little bit of light. as expected from the sun.

the moon goes through several phases. some days are better than others. it’s a wave of several highs and lows, but you grow to understand that’s how things are. on some nights it’s as invisible as they come, the clouds blocking out what little light it already produced. though it glowed on other nights, you often feel like nothing has changed. but you learn to trust the process either way.

gazing at the moon is calming, not dazzling and exceptional, but calming. it provides peace, serenity. you often gazed at the moon, especially on the nights where you could only toss and turn. a cold breeze would blow past you and send shivers down your spine, painting your bare skin with several goosebumps. leaning on the balcony railing and taking in the sounds of a city that barely slept makes you think of him.

you miss the sun; you miss your sun. you miss his presence and the warmth he brings you. atsumu checks in every now and then, asking how you’re doing and wondering if you’d ever want to meet for a cup of coffee. you’ve never accepted any of his offers for fear of only getting pulled back in.

you’ve never realized that you always had a gravitational pull of your own. atsumu spends most of his nights gazing at the moon. when his heart raced and his mind buzzed, the moon brought him tranquility — as did you, his anchor.

[ miya atsumu ] : the night sky is nice tonight, it makes me think of you. i like that we’re always looking at the same one.

[ miya atsumu ] : i hope you’re doing okay.

he’s right, the night sky does look nice. the moon is full and shining the brightest you’ve ever seen it shine. gleaming, enchanting, and breathtaking doesn’t seem to do its beauty any justice. perhaps the poets and artists had been right all along, the moon is the perfect muse. your thoughts almost convince you that its light isn’t artificial. but twinkling beside the moon are the stars, shimmering high above the world you know, their light completely their own.

you’re not okay. being the moon may not be too bad, but you’ve already realized that you want to be amongst the stars as one.

days turn into weeks, and eventually months. sometimes they blend together when nothing of interest or importance happens, though you strive for events that are worth remembering. you’ve found a job that you actually like, one that you truly excelled at. you’ve started to put yourself out there, to meet people that pushed you to be better than you had been the day before. slowly but surely, you began to create your own light.

some days your light faltered, some days are dimmer than others, but it was a light of your own. it’s one that didn’t need another’s glow to exist. soon enough, you find yourself accepting one of atsumu’s many offers for a cup of coffee.

he’s now brighter than ever. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu, has turned into setter for japan’s olympic team, miya atsumu. his radiance is as blinding as ever, the largest grin on his face as he waves his hand out the second he caught sight of you.

but you’re brighter now too, weaving through the cafe tables with your head up high. you’re more sure of yourself, standing taller, making each step towards him with purpose. you’ve lost the tension in your shoulders, the weight that built in your chest. and atsumu notices it too.

“you’ve changed.” he smiles, much softer than you’re used to. his gaze is fond as you settle in the seat in front of him.

“i know,” you reply, the corners of your lips twitching upwards, “but thank you for lending me your light.”

atsumu’s smile remains that same soft one that you’re not used to as he recognizes your words almost immediately. he leans back in his seat, gesturing a hand to you, “never gave ya anythin’, this is all you.”

he replies with the same words he said several months ago, the latter half of the sentence being the only addition. warmth fills your chest as he never lost a single ounce of sincerity. the only difference? this time you actually believe him.

atsumu may still be the sun, but you’ve become a star in your own right; you no longer need him to shine. maybe someday you’ll shine bright enough to allow yourself to exist beside him. but for now, this is enough.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

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kodzukenscorner · 4 years

Text

Sakusa, Kenma, Oikawa, and Tsukishima getting jealous (NSFW)

anon asked: hello!! i saw tht ur requests are open so can i request a HC with jealous Sakusa,Kenma,Oikawa,Tsukki and Hoshiumi and can it be abit NSFW😳 i love your writings btw🥰💗

a/n: i only accept 4 people per request so i cut hoshiumi out since he was the last one mentioned. also doing this request because it’s oikawa’s birthday!!

wc: 2,034

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Sakusa

Sakusa is not someone who gets jealous easily

What bothers him a lot more is when people get way too close to you for comfort

He does not say anything when he sees someone getting too close to you he just tries to stand closer to you

Only this time the guy who was desperately trying to flirt with you just did not seem to be taking the hint

Even with Sakusa looming menacingly behind you, this guy was not getting it

And bless your heart, you were far too kind to tell him to leave you alone

But this was not sitting well with Sakusa so he grabbed your arm and pulled you right into his chest

He doesn’t usually initiate any PDA but he wasn’t just going to sit back and let someone hit on you right in front of him

You were surprised but let him wrap his arms around you anyway, enjoying the warmth radiating off of him

The guy finally seemed to get it and left you alone

You looked up at Sakusa smiling at him as a way to thank him for helping you but he kept his normal deadpan face

And even stranger was the gleam in his eyes that you didn’t recognize

Before you knew it he had an arm around your waist and was leading you back home

You tried to ask him what was going on but he just remained silent and was on a mission to get you home

As soon as he got you through the door he led you into the bathroom and locked the door behind him

He started stripping you of your clothes while you stood there dumbfounded

“O-Omi? What are you doing?”

He looked you straight in the eye while he turned on the shower

“He got too close to you, we need to clean you up”

He pushed you into the shower and he took off his own clothes before joining you

Ah, so this is what Sakusa is like when’s jealous huh?

Soon all thoughts left your mind when Sakusa grabbed the shower head and brought it down to spray directly onto your clit

You moaned and leaned into his chest for support

“You need to be cleaned inside and out” He mumbled before slipping two of his slender fingers into you

All you could do was hold onto his arms and mewl

He pumped his fingers into you a few times but had an unsatisfied look on his face

He pulled his fingers out and put the shower head down

You looked up at him, face still flushed

“We need to cleaner deeper”

Your eyes widened when you felt his hard dick slide into you and suddenly he had you up against the wall, with your legs wrapped around his waist

He started thrusting into you much harder than he normally did and your nails dug into his shoulders

“You won’t let anyone get you dirty again will you?” He whispered gruffly in your ear

“No Omi, I promise” You managed to squeak out

He groaned in response and the only other sounds were your endless moans and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin

Kenma

Kenma does not ever let it show when he gets jealous and honestly, it doesn’t happen very often

He usually gets very insecure and worries about you finding someone better to date

But god, what really made his blood boil was when his friends flirted with you

He knew it was all just playful and in good fun but it still got under his skin seeing Kuroo so close to you

And you weren’t pushing him away, in fact you were flirting right back as if Kenma wasn’t right there watching both of you

As soon as Kuroo was gone you made your way over to Kenma who was sitting in his chair, playing a game

You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind and nuzzled into his neck

He grumbled and shrugged you off

“Oh now you have time for me? Done flirting with Kuroo?”

You blinked in surprise and just stared at the back of his head

“Kenma were you jealous?”

He stayed silent and focused on his game

“It wasn’t serious” You stated

You moved in front of him so you could see his face and you were shocked to see he was scowling at his game

You stayed there waiting for him to react and squatted down between his legs

He stared at his screen like he was contemplating something and finally put his game down and pulled you so you were straddling his lap

His lips immediately attached to yours while his hands had a death grip on your hips

You did your best to keep up with his kiss but he was feverish and rough

Soon one of his hands slid into your pants and cupped your pussy which caused you to gasp in surprise

He took his opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and his fingers pushed your panties to the side so he could properly rub against your wet folds

You started grinding against his hands and he started teasingly slipping a finger into your eager cunt

You pulled away from his lips to let out a breathy moan when you finally felt one of his fingers delve into you

He moved his kisses to your neck and slid another finger in, curling them inside of you

At this point you had started bouncing lightly on his fingers as he used his thumb to rub your clit

You tangled your hands into his hair as he slipped a third finger into you

“More, please” You begged and he obliged, adding a fourth finger while his thumb continued it’s ministrations on your clit

You were bouncing desperately on him as he nearly fisted his hand into you

You could feel your orgasm coming and just as it was about to wash over you, you felt nothing

You looked at Kenma and he had removed his hand completely

“You think girls who flirt with my best friend deserve to cum?”

You groaned and slumped against his chest

Note to self: do not make Kenma jealous

Oikawa

Okay out of everyone, Oikawa gets the most jealous and he gets jealous so easily

Literally everything sets him off and he turns into the biggest pouting baby

Even if you’re just talking with his friends normally he has to pull you into his lap and glare at his own friends

It’s kind of ridiculous

But you had never seen him actually get jealous before

That is until some guy thought it was a good idea to ask for your number when Oikawa was just a few feet away

You didn’t even get the chance to turn the guy down before Oikawa grabbed you and planted a deep kiss on your lips right in front of this guy

He wasn’t letting you go either, he had an arm firmly wrapped around you waist and he was already slipping his tongue into your mouth

He stuck a leg between your thighs and grinded you against him, causing you to let out a little moan

When Oikawa finally pulled away, you were horny and flustered

There was a string of saliva still connecting you and he made eye contact with the guy who had asked for your number

He was stunned and couldn’t move and Oikawa just smirked at him and moved one of his hands down to squeeze your ass

You jumped and hit his chest and the poor guy finally walked away, very embarrassed

“Tooru! What were you thinking now I’m all...” you trailed off, far too embarrassed to admit you had gotten turned on in the middle of a gym

“What’s wrong baby? Oh let me help you out” He smirked and led you to a storage closet where he pushed you down on the mats

You stared up at him with wide eyes as he stood over you with that same smug look on his face

He slid his pants off and his hard dick sprung free

He started stroking himself and you gulped but you were so eager you took off your own clothes and spread your legs for him

“Such a good girl, you’re already dripping for me”

For some reason jealous Oikawa was such a turn on for you so you just spread your wet pussy open for him and whimpered at the cold breeze

“Please Tooru, I need your help”

He finally succumbed to your begging and got on his knees, easing his cock into your awaiting pussy

You both moaned at the delightful feeling and he made you look down at where you were both connected

“Look how good you’re taking me all in baby”

You moaned at the sight of him sliding his dick half way out and slamming it all right back into you

“That dumbass couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?”

You shook your head as Oikawa started drilling into you

“No Tooru, only you”

He had a bruising hold on your hips as he rammed into you and he made you watch each time as your tight pussy sucked him right back in

God you should really make him jealous more often

Tsukishima

Tsuki does get jealous from time to time but he is remarkably good at hiding it

But he is 100% the kind of person who lets his jealousy build overtime until it finally spills over

So to you it seems like he snaps at the smallest things

But he’s been watching you get hit on by random people for days and he’s seen the stares people give you when you’re walking together

All of this has gotten completely under his skin and he has had just about enough of it

So when Yamaguchi very innocently tells you that you look nice, Tsuki almost kills him right then and there

Before you can thank Yamaguchi, you’re being pulled away and Tsuki is coming up with some excuse for why the two of you have to leave right now

You are very confused but Tsuki has a firm grip on your wrist and he looks completely pissed off

You ask him what’s wrong and he just looks at you with the sharpest glare

“He said you looked pretty”

You were completely confused, why would he even get jealous over that?

Soon he had brought you back to his place and pushed you down on the couch

“Change”

“H-huh?” You looked up at him in complete disbelief

“You can’t keep wearing those clothes if people are going to hit on you”

“But I don’t have any other clothes to wear?”

“Then strip”

You weren’t going to argue with him when he had that look in his eyes so you tentatively took off your clothes until you were just sitting there in your bra and panties

Tsuki kept his gaze trained on you as you tried to cover yourself up with your hands, feeling very exposed and embarrassed

He knelt down in front of you and rubbed his hands along your thighs, placing little kisses here and there

“Only I get to see you look like this okay?”

You nodded as you watched him pry your legs apart and lick a stripe up your clothed pussy

You shuddered as he peeled your panties off and brought his tongue to your now bare folds

“So pretty” He mumbled against your core and his hot breath elicited a tiny moan from you

Soon he was kissing your pussy and shoving his tongue in as far as it would go

Your moans grew louder as you brought your hand to his head and pushed his head closer to you

He held your legs wide open every time you tried to clamp your thighs around his head

He wasn’t letting up anytime soon as you started to whine and squirm

He sucked and nibbled and all you could do was call out his name in desperate squeals

If this was how he treated you when he got jealous you were going to get him riled up a lot more

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glacecakes · 3 years

Text

Wild Hunt

Eugene isn't exactly well liked by his men, but when they want to induct him into their ranks, he's not going to complain! All he has to do is hunt down a beast that they prepared for this event specifically-

It's Varian. Eugene is accidentally hunting down Varian. Now the two have to survive the night together, while one of them is injured, against a squadron of Corona's best men.

Uh oh.

IM BACK! Kinda. Finals are due Tuesday and I wrote this instead of doing them but WHATEVER WHO CARES

This was mostly written on the Varian Hivemind server, with some lovely inputs from the folks on there, and I edited it and finished it before throwing it up here. So uh. Yea. Team Awesome my beloved

Life and Times and VVO will also be updated soon!!! I hope to have at least one if not both chapters done by the end of the month

ANYWAY HERES 8K OF TEAM AWESOME ANGST

Being Captain of the Guards sure had its perks.

For one, he got to attend meetings with Rapunzel, finally. You'd think being the princess's future husband (probably) and Prince of the Dark Kingdom got him some recognition, but noblemen are jerks and elitists, so what can you do. Granted, the meetings were boring as all hell, but still, it felt like he was actually being respected and taken seriously. Something Rapunzel had been pushing for since the start. Personally, he wasn't all that sure he deserved it, but if she was happy, so was he.

Another was that the guards no longer gave him shit. That's not to say they did before... well, they did. Stan and Pete didn't, but every other guard called him Flynn Rider at least once or twice before begrudgingly accepting him as their teacher and now commander. He no longer had to worry about someone breathing down his back, waiting for him to slip up or commit a crime, eager to throw him back in prison.

Speaking of which...

He turned the corner to see a few guards, couldn't remember their names off the top of his head, forming a small circle around a corner. Their predatory grins barred down on whatever their target was, whichever poor soul had angered them. One of them had his hands on someone much shorter, so short he couldn't make them out beyond the red coats and gleaming gold... which could only mean it was one person.

"Don't get comfy, brat," the one hissed, pushing Varian up against the wall with an audible crack as a skull hit stone, no doubt hoisted up by a shirt collar. "One of these days the princess is gonna get sick of you, and when she does, we'll toss you back into your old cell... and we'll restart our favorite game. Ain't that a swell idea?" Varian hissed, a soft thunk of his boots scrambling for purchase against the wall.

"Hey!" Eugene snapped, having heard more than enough. "Put him down now ." His words were like fire, causing the other two to jump back and reveal the battered and bruised alchemist. His lip was split, a large scuff of dirt on his white shirt.

One of the guards snapped his head around, whacking the leader's shoulder to get his attention. The guard frowned. "Oh yea? Or what?"

Before his new position, he would've leapt into the fray, hackles raised, punching the lights out of these jerks, but now, he had a much better stance. "Or you're fired." He crossed his arms, the perfect picture of a guy in charge who knew how to keep his men in line.

Someone who was clearly not him.

The guard hummed. "You don't have the nerve." To emphasize his point, he shook Varian a little harder, the kid's toes barely scraping the floor and his hands gripping the soldier's wrists. Leather gloves creaked with how tight the pressure was.

But Eugene's glare didn't waver, hand itching for the sword at his hip, his anger radiating in waves. It was enough to get the other two to back off.

"Cmon, Aaron," one whispered. "It's not worth it."

"Yeah, it's not." Eugene agreed. "Put him down now, and I'll lighten your sentence to a week in the stables instead of a month."

Aaron's face turned sheet white, then bright red. With a huff, he dropped Varian to the ground, readjusting his gloves while Varian cried out on the floor.

"You got lucky this time, brat," he hissed.

Oh, he knew that type of speech. The Baron used it all the time. Anyone who got told that never lasted to the next month. "And all other times," he said. "Because if I see you go anywhere near him I'm taking you to the princess."

Aaron rolled his eyes, clearly uncaring, and stormed off with a huff, his buddies trailing after. No doubt they didn't like a criminal ordering them around. Or, ex-criminal. He'd have to keep an eye on them.

A sniffle broke Eugene's musings, the fog of satisfaction and annoyance quickly replaced by concern for his younger friend. Varian sat up, wincing as he did so. He rubbed his neck, feeling for any injuries and finding none except for his ruined collar. "Aw man," he mumbled.

Dad had fixed his collar for him that day, a proud smile on his face. "You need to look sharp for your first day on the job," he'd said, ruffling Varian's hair. They'd grown so much closer in the past few months, the man always seeing his son off. Today was the first day back after his kidnapping, after all; he'd spent a month recovering from a broken rib.

"It's not my first day, I've been working there for weeks," Varian had grumbled, but let him do it with a cheeky grin.

"First day of the week," Quirin rectified, placing a kiss to his baby's forehead.

A forehead now covered in dust and a bruise.

"Hey kid," Eugene offered a hand that Varian gladly took, stumbling a little as he was helped upright. "You ok? Nothing knocked outta place?"

"Just my pride," Varian joked, smile quickly fading. "I'm ok though, really. I'm used to it." He shrugged, hugging himself for comfort. Maybe he could pretend dad was here, hugging him... he always had the best hugs. Even when Varian was little, before they drifted apart. Back when he was just the weird magic kid. Back when his biggest worries were some older kids picking on him... Dad would always scoop him up into a big hug with flowery words and a book of Flynn Rider.

A warm hand wrapped around him, pulling him into a red chest. Eugene took his other hand to ruffle Varian's hair, earning a squawk of complaint.

"Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it's ok, you know that, right?" Silence followed. Gosh, this kid... say what you want about being an orphan, at least everyone around you was on the same boat. No place for bullies, nothing to bully about, when everyone was doing just as badly. "If they ever give you more trouble, you come to me, yeah?"

"Huh?" Confused blue eyes met warm brown.

Eugene smirked. "You say the words and I boot them out of the castle, goggles. Team Awesome looks out for each other."

"Oh," Varian mumbled, dazed. He'd never had a protector, never had anyone looking out for him. Cold sneers and flowery words, manipulation and secrets and ulterior motives, sure. His chest fluttered, a laugh escaping.

But then... the anxiety returned full force, maybe even stronger.

If those guys got fired because of him, good god, he could only imagine the fallout. Well, that's not true. He absolutely could. One time in prison a guard got fired for beating a cellmate within an inch of his life, and though the guy lived, the second he was out of prison he got jumped, or so the story goes. In all honesty it was probably an embellished truth, stretched out to frighten prisoners into silence, but god damn if it didn't work. No one ever complained about their beatings. A peep was all that was needed to spend a night in the infirmary for even worse injuries.

"No, no, it's fine," Varian flicked his wrist. The dial on his hand spun with each flick, the ticking grating. "Besides, we have work to do!"

"Oh, yea!" Eugene gasped. Right! The whole reason he came out to this part of the castle was to look for Varian specifically, after all.

"So, right, maintenance stuff." Varian waved his hand, motioning for Eugene to follow. "Here's what I had in mind..."

It was a week later, late at night, when Aaron approached him. The moon lay low in the sky, just bright enough to allow for vision without torchlight, but not bright enough that anything beyond shapes were clear. True to his word, the guard had been stationed on stable duty for the past several days, coming back to the barracks covered in dirt and angry every time.

So maybe Eugene had whispered to Max about him. Big deal.

Anyway, the captain was knee-deep in paperwork when Aaron knocked on his office door. "Sir," he said. "Finished up for the day, and I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" Eugene put his quill down hesitantly. Aaron was his first big show of power, the first punishment he'd dished. Everything else had been a variation of "keep doing what you're doing" as he settled into his new role. Who knew being in a position of power was so stressful?

(Everyone. Literally everyone.)

"I wanted to apologize for testing you, sir." The man shifted, eyes never meeting. His face was unreadable. "I wasn't sure you were going to be as..... sharp, as our previous captain. And I'm sorry for that."

"....Ok," Eugene said. "Thanks? I think?"

"So, I uh... wanted to do something for you." The man continues. "Me and a few others. It's sorta a ritual for guards. We didn’t do it before cuz of, yknow, Cassandra and stuff. And you're one of us now, so...?" He raised an eyebrow, a quiet invitation.

Oh boy.

Knowing these guys, it was probably something really stupid. Most of the guards were pretty nice, maybe a bit airheaded, but a lot of meatheads mostly. Big fans of machismo and showing their strength, boosting their ego, stuff like that. It's why none of them were fans of being run by a criminal. And no doubt Eugene would have to clean up their mess anyway, so he sighed deeply and rose from his seat. "Alright, what did you do now?"

Aaron placed a hand to his chest. "Why, sir, we did this out of the goodness of our heart! We're just welcoming you to the team!" He laughed a bit at that last part. He pointed out the door, leading his superior down the suspiciously empty barracks, and out into the courtyard.

About a dozen or so guards were outside, waiting. One of them was holding a horse's reins, and a crossbow.

"He's in!" Aaron called, and the guards all broke into cheers and raucous laughter.

"Yea, nice to see you guys too, uh. What am I... in?" Eugene asked, shifting awkwardly.

Aaron's smile widened. "It's just a fun little game, sir."

"The game is simple, really," Aaron slung an arm around Eugene's shoulder, pulling him close, not unlike how Lance does. But unlike his larger friend, this man is wiry, more of a weaselly kind of build, with stick thin arms that hide his muscle. "See, when someone new joins the guard, we test their skill by having them hunt down a beast in the nearby forest. Once they catch it, we all celebrate together! And welcome him into the ranks!" The guards all cheered, no doubt thrilled at the prospect.

"....right...." Eugene smiled uncomfortably, cheeks pulling and stretching, a puppet controlling the strings attached to his face. His stomach swirled, bouncing all over as he was passed around.

"But see, you're not just any guard, you're the Captain," Aaron's smile took an equally unpleasant demeanour. "So we figured we'd give you some extra... challenge." Outside of their little circle, no sounds could be heard. Not a peep from a cricket, or a cry from a bird, just dead silence in the surrounding glen. Just the crackle of torches, and the rustling of men.

"The beast for this occasion is small, smart, and fast. The goal is to catch it before it reaches the wall at Old Corona. All you gotta do is," he makes a noise with his mouth to emulate the crossbow. "Hit the target, and the rest of us will finish the job."

"Finish?" Eugene echoed.

The guards around him smiled with all of their teeth. "Well yea, we're not just gonna waste a perfectly good beast, are we?"

Eugene narrowed his eyes. If Rapunzel heard about this, no doubt she'd flip. "How will I know what I'm looking for? And why should I even approve of this?"

"Relax, sir," Aaron shook him, patting his chest with a heavy fist. "We're not just killing an innocent creature. It's always something that's been marked for slaughter, or is causing problems. And trust me," his voice deepened. "You'll know."

No horse was as good as Max, but that was probably for the best, what with his gut screaming about how this all felt so goddamn sketchy. "This isn't some trap where it turns out I'm the one being hunted, right? Cuz I don't want to shoot any of you with this," he joked, brandishing the crossbow.

"No, sir, not at all! In fact we'll be supporting you! No one makes the first shot until you do." He promised, patting the horse's flank. "Rest assured, no tricks here. Just a beast already marked for capture. Or recapture, in this case. We picked this one special for you."

"That sounds like it's supposed to be flattering but it really isn't."

Aaron shrugged. "Not my problem. Good luck!" With a smack to the horse, she cried out, spurring Eugene forward.

They rode through the Capital, out into Corona proper, lush with trees. At this time of night, no one would be about, not even thieves, laden in their straw beds and cots. The only things out right now are animals, or a beast, in this case. How is he supposed to know what he's looking for? What, is it going to be some giant thing with red eyes? No, Aaron said it was small, how the hell is he going to...

Then he hears it.

It's faint, almost like a windchime, but sure enough, the clanking of chains, and a small whimper. Somewhere through the trees there's a rustling, something moving. He can't make it out, the guards didn't give him a torch, but a blob of something rushes forward, the only thing he can make out the distinctive shine of metal, a chain reflecting in the moonlight.

Ah.

Eugene smirked, the rush of adrenaline from a chase beginning to pump through his veins. It'd been a while since an adventure without any stakes, without any daring challenges or risking death. The last time must've been... gosh, probably the Herz de Sonne misadventure? And even then he and Lance had just goofed off for the majority of it. Maybe the Spire? That one was much riskier but he and Rapunzel had been so outrageously drunk during that whole endeavor that it felt more like a fun jaunt.

He shook himself out of his reverie. Focus, Eugene! Fun or no, you're proving yourself to the guards! Show them that you're a worthy Captain beyond just barking orders and supporting the princess!

He spurred the horse forward, hooves thundering against the undergrowth and disturbing the leaves below. The beast let out a shriek, shrill and shaking, rushing forward. It weaved between trees, trying to throw Eugene off. Man, Aaron wasn't kidding about how fast it was. Even on horseback he couldn't keep up very well. The chains wrapped around the beast's legs screamed in complaint, clanking and clattering with each huff of its breath.

Eugene lowered the crossbow, sticking his tongue out. Steady... steady.... he fired.

The bolt whizzed through the air, lodging into a tree just a few feet away from its target. The beast flinched but didn't slow, scampering through the undergrowth, leaping over a fallen tree towards the river.

"Hyah!" He yelled, leading his horse over the log and splashing down into frigid waters. Water rushed past his horse's hooves, dulling the sound of chains, and when he looked around, the beast was gone.

Drat.

Eugene grumbled, reloading the crossbow before urging his horse onward. If this beast got away he'd never hear the end of it! They'd be all "Yes sir, Captain! We'll catch that criminal! As soon as you catch that beast!" And then they'd laugh and he'd moan and he'd have to go catch the criminal himself which is honestly not too far off from how it is already-

Anyway.

It took a few minutes to find it again, the beast trying to muffle it's movements by shuffling, but the metal song was too alluring to ignore. There was no time to waste. With the horse at a fast trot, quieter and steadier, he fired the bolt, this time getting much closer, barely whizzing past the silhouette and lodging into a tree trunk with a chunk of hair.

The creature cried out again, beginning to run and renew this dance of cat and mouse, but Eugene wouldn't have it. Dexterous fingers clasped a new bolt and quickly reloaded, giving barely a few seconds for the creature to try and run before firing again.

He didn't miss.

It was almost silent, the bolt's descent. Its tip gleamed in the moonlight alongside the chains keeping his prey in place, the one thing that slowed it and gave Eugene the upper hand. Whatever this beast was was quick, too quick, and if he lost it again, no doubt he'd never find it again. So when he aimed, he aimed down, and sure enough, the bolt embedded itself into the beast's calf, sending into stumbling.

It shrieked, screamed and sobbed in agony, noises bordering on almost human-like as it thrashed on the floor. The arrow stuck straight up, bright color on the end almost a beacon for the beast's location. Poor thing. He really should've just aimed for the head and put it out of its mercy, but this was the only way to ensure a clean shot.

Eugene slid off his horse, crouching low to the ground as he readied the final blow. But as he got nearer, as the moon hung lower in the sky, providing light through the filtering trees. He hesitated.

The beast was crawling, still trying to run, front legs pawing at the forest floor and clenching the leaves beneath with hands.

Hands...?

Eugene's stomach sank, lower and lower with each passing step, heart climbing higher and higher in his throat, the closer he got, the more ill he felt.

He saw the chains first. No, not chains like that on a cattle’s neck. Prison shackles, the kind wrapped around a prisoner's legs. And they were wrapped around legs, keeping strides from being too large.

And their torso.... clothed torso..... The beast heaved, each breath causing it to rise and fall with rapid panic.

The Captain's hands brushed against the tree with his other bolt embedded in it, eyes trailing onto it, and he froze.

Blue hair, stabbed by the bolt.

"No," he breathed. "No no no no no..." His boots picked up the pace, speed walking over to his catch, to his victim. Please, for the love of god, let him be wrong. Let this be a cruel prank, just a bear or deer dressed up to fool him... don't let it be...!

The creature heard him approach and sobbed, flipping itself over on shaking hands to get a better look at its assailant.

There, lightened by the moonlight, chest heaving, tears streaming down his face and blood oozing from his leg, was Varian.

"Varian....?" Eugene whispered, tears of his own budding when his friend whimpered, scooting back and away. With each step forward Varian scrambled back until his back hit a tree, at which point he curled into a ball. Like a frightened animal. Like a cornered beast.

Oh god... this whole time, he thought it was just one of the farm animals marked for slaughter, or a meddlesome woodland critter... he thought it was an animal destined for someone's table, so why not the guards'? Why on Earth did he agree to this? Was he so desperate for approval from his peers that he would simply shrug off the ringing alarm bells, put aside his gut instinct, and dive in blindly?

Yes, his mind whispered. You would, and you did.

"Hey, buddy," He leaned down, inching closer. "Varian, goggles, it's me. It's Team Awesome." His hand shook as he reached forward, but Varian flinched violently, causing his leg to spasm. The boy hiccuped, a hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his sobs. A small mercy came from the shadows of the night, with it too dark for details, Varian wouldn't see the blood rapidly soaking his pants.

The crossbow glinted, a sharp refraction bouncing off frightened blue eyes and causing him to wince. Eugene tossed the weapon away like it burned him.

"It's me, it's Eugene," he reassured, scooting closer bit by bit. "I'm here to help. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You did," Varian gasped, whole form shaking. "You did."

And that really was the crux of it, wasn't it? At the center of Eugene's self loathing was the spiral of guilt that you shot him, you shot the kid. He trusted you, and you shot him.

"I know," he rasped, trying to keep his voice level. "I did. I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." Varian sobbed, unfurling slightly if only to reach out for comfort. Even if this was the man who hurt him, who hunted him on horse and acted as the boogeyman straight out of nightmares, he was also Eugene, his friend, the one who stood up for him against Cass and Aaron, held his hand and promised he'd be there if Varian ever needed it. And god did he need him now.

Shaking, gloved hands connected in the middle, Eugene's grip gentle but grounding, a careful smile on his face. "That's it, bud. You're safe."

“Aw, ain’t that cute?”

Faster than a bullet, the smaller hand retracted, Varian’s eyes wide and horror-struck. In his attempt to comfort the boy, Eugene had let his guard down. He’d forgotten the final rule of the game.

No one moves until you make the first shot.

They were surrounded.

Aaron swaggered up to the duo with a grin, torch in hand. It flickered and sputtered, illuminating his blinding white grin amidst the darkness. The other guards formed a circle around them. Every other man carried a torch, while the rest had a weapon or tool or rope.

“The Captain has captured the beast! And in remarkable time, too.” Aaron simpered, waltzing up and gripping Varian’s cheeks in his hand. The boy snarled, teeth grit as he stared up at his bully.

From behind them came Aaron’s two buddies, the guards from before, each one wrapping an arm around Eugene’s shoulder, hauling him up and away.

For a moment, Eugene's insides were pure ice, frozen in time, unable to react despite the screaming in his mind as the puzzle pieces failed to connect. They jumbled and sloshed in his mind, the picture only half complete and the rest of the pieces strewn atop, obscuring the image from his view.

"Eugene...?" Varian whispered, thawing him.

"What have you done!?" He bellowed, anger hardening his voice. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" He strained against the guards.

"Just as we told you, sir!" Aaron mocked, forcing Varian to meet the Captain's gaze. "We captured a beast for you to hunt down! And now that you have," The grin was razor sharp, shark's fangs practically drenched in blood. "We'll dispose of it properly."

A guard from the circle threw a rope, the ends tied into a loop. Like a ring toss, the aim was true, ensnaring Varian's wrist and tightening when he pulled. Another guard followed suit, yanking the boy back and forth till his arms were spread eagle and unable to move.

Varian turned a stark white, paler than the moon that neared the horizon. He cried out, straining to try and escape, but another spasm from his leg paralyzed him. “N-no, please not again…!” He sobbed. “Let me go-!”

"Again!? Varian, what do you mean? VARIAN!" Eugene yelled. "VARIAN!"

The boy screwed his eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to end.

"LET HIM GO!" Eugene strained against the guards, lamenting once again, his own stupidity. He should've brought Max, or an actual weapon, like his sword, or something! He'd gone in totally blind, expecting that the guards were decent people and that this wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. Honestly, he should've known better! After everything he's seen and done, never leave the house without a concealed weapon! You were almost executed by half these assholes!

When he gets back, he's firing everyone except Stan and Pete.

A third rope flashed through the air, this time with a loop larger than the others. It latched itself onto Varian's neck, wrapping tight and close. His eyes snapped open in pure terror, mouth opening in shock. But before the boy could protest or scream, the rope was pulled taut, and his face turned an awful shade of purple. He coughed, thrashing in place with tears of fear and hypoxia trailing his cheeks.

"Aw, the beast is scared! Doesn't he know how all animals are slaughtered?" Aaron cooed, faux sympathy marring his features. "You know, don't you? You were raised on a farm, after all." His question went unanswered, Varian too busy rasping for breath to respond.

The man with the rope pulled harder, forcing Varian's face down into the dirt where his muffled cries barely caused the leaves beneath to move. A steel boot stomped onto his head, and the cries went still.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" Eugene bellowed, the protective instincts in his mind going haywire, overheating and exploding with pure rage and an intense need to save him, free him. He let this happen, if he had been smarter, stronger, if he hadn't shot him, hadn't let his guard down, hadn't shrugged and taken the guards' words at face value… “Oh relax, it'll be painless!” Aaron hummed, producing a knife from his belt. “The beast didn’t answer the question, but, I’m sure you can figure out how animals are killed after falling unconscious.” He jokingly slashed the dagger in the air above his throat, and Eugene saw red.

"YOU ARE SO FIRED!" He screeched at Aaron. "WHEN RAPUNZEL FINDS OUT-"

"Oh?" Aaron mocked, turning around and placing a hand to his chest daintily. "When the princess finds out? You're making her do all the heavy lifting?" He sauntered up to Eugene, hips swaying with each step till they were nose to nose. "This is your job, sir. You are in charge of keeping us in line, keeping the prisoners in their place."

"Varian is NOT a prisoner," Eugene hissed, meeting his gaze with pure fury. "He is a friend, my friend, my brother."

"Perhaps to Eugene Fitzherbert, but not a Captain of the Guard." Aaron shrugged.

Eugene lowered his head. For a brief moment, Aaron grinned victoriously. Now he's getting it.

"Too bad for you, I'm both."

Aaron's face fell, the cheerful facade falling into a brutal glower. "What does that mea-"

He was cut off when Eugene slammed his face into Aaron's, hitting the bastard's nose with a CRUNCH. He staggered back, and his buddies loosened their grip on Eugene to see if he's ok. It's all the advantage Eugene needed, quickly pushing them both off him and charging Aaron. His shoulder bowled into Aaron, sending him sprawling, and Eugene only stopped to grab the dagger he dropped before sprinting for Varian's crumpled form.

"Oh sun, please be ok, come on kid," Eugene chanted, slashing the rope around his neck. It leaves a brutal ring of red around his neck, as do the ones around his wrist when they're dispatched. There was no time to remove the chains, what with the remaining guards quickly regaining their senses and gearing up for a fight.

He lifted Varian up into his arms as if he were made of glass. Dark black hair lolled against the Captain's chest as he stood to his full height, glaring down at his employees, the hazers, the conspirators.

There was no hope of taking them all on, that much was clear. Charging into battle with hands full and armed only with a knife was stupid. He'd have to outrun them, play the game, and make it to Old Corona where Quirin could protect his son and he could get actual backup from loyal men.

Perhaps this was the true game, the true test of his worthiness.

Aaron snarled, staggering up while clutching his nose. "GET HIM!"

Eugene crouched, letting the first guard try and charge him before jumping out of the way at the last second. This he was used to, dodging men who wanted nothing more than to hurt and destroy what he held dear, making a run for it to the relative safety of the familiar. He fell into the old routine without too much difficulty, leaping over heads and ducking under blows. It helped that Varian barely weighed more than a few grapes, still a stick from his year in prison. He and the others had been hard at work trying to help him gain at the very least some muscle, though Varian was a big fan of skipping meals for science.

According to Quirin he's had that habit for a while, and right now it was a minor blessing.

Huh, he thought to himself as he dodged a crossbow bolt, taking off into the trees. Captain of the Guard isn't all that off from my usual life, just with some added benefits. Another arrow nearly took off his ear. Yea, same old stuff.

His feet pounded against the forest floor, dredging up leaves and dirt alike as he ran. There was no time to cover his tracks or be discreet, there was a whole battalion after him, so it wouldn't do much good anyway. But as his steps quickened, as Varian bounced up and down in his arms, the chains still rattling, the boy stirred, groaning in pain with each motion.

"Gene...?" He mumbled, muffled through the man’s coat.

"Hey kid," Eugene grinned down, not slowing for a second. "Glad to see you're ok. How's your throat?"

"On fire..." a weak hand pawed at his throat, rubbing the soreness away.

"Sorry about that, you're gonna be just fine, ok? It's all gonna be ok."

Varian hummed, eyes glossy and not fully there. His head fell back onto Eugene's chest, a soft smile full of love that he didn't deserve. "K. I trust you."

Varian fell back into an uneasy sleep after that, his breaths wheezing against Eugene, lips stained blue and face clammy. Anytime exhaustion tried to creep into his bones, tried to sneak into his soul and drain him to surrender, he looked down at Varian and his spirit would renew.

At some point, they were hiding behind a tree, keeping to the intense darkness. A few guards could be heard not too far off, their annoyed mutterings like an alarm bell, a siren's song of false security. Just as they passed, Varian coughed, clutching at the fabric for comfort. It was an ugly sound, weak and ragged, as if there was something coming up.

When he looked down, those blue lips were now stained red.

He picked up the pace after that.

But even he couldn't run forever, no matter how light Varian was or how determined he was. Inevitably he had to stop for water, hiding Varian behind a fallen tree and drinking from a stream whose sounds hid them from view.

He just finished his own drink when Varian stirred, and the Captain was quick to help Varian get some water of his own.

They sat by the stream for a bit, catching their breaths, Eugene from exertion, and Varian from strangulation.

It was here that Varian recounted his side of the story, tears dripping and mixing with the stream below him. "I was so scared..." he whispered, voice hoarse.

"I bet," Eugene soothed, running a thumb over Varian's palm. "What happened?"

"....I got jumped," his eyes turned downcast, shame coloring his features. "T-they grabbed me when I was gonna head home. Said that they wanted to make it up to me, to... to give me "a job befitting my talents"...." He sighed. "You can probably guess what that was, huh."

Eugene's ears burned. A flame simmered in his gut, nausea falling away as his free hand clenched at the leaves below him. "Yea. I can." He bit out.

For a moment, neither spoke, unsure of what to say. What could they say? The situation was insane, it was cruel, it was... it was…

Varian hacked, more blood than before coming up and splattering on the shackles that remained.

"Oh, let me get those," Eugene hissed. "I'm sorry, shit," He fumbled for his pockets, procuring a lock pick and making quick work of the shackles. "We gotta move. We can't let them find us." His hands hovered over the bolt, unsure. "Can I... I mean, you can't run with..."

Varian turned a shade of green, barely visible. “It’s stopping the blood from coming out.”

"Yea, good point, sorry." He coughed awkwardly, the stream bubbling and gurgling a simple melody.

"Why do... why do you keep apologizing?" Varian asked, not meeting Eugene's eye for a second.

"Wh- seriously?" He let out a bark of laughter, fading when Varian's face didn't change. "Kid, it's my fault you're in this mess! Sun above, I shot you. I said I'd keep you safe and I shot you." Anger swelled in his words, but Varian didn't flinch. He knew it wasn't directed at him. "Some Captain I am, I'm being chased by my own guys."

Varian bit his lip. "Did..." he hesitated to ask. If the answer wasn't what he was hoping for, he'd never recover. "Did you know it was me?"

"No!" Eugene's eyes widened. "No, I never would've agreed if I knew it was a person, let alone you!" He ran a hand through frazzled hair.

"So..." Varian hummed. "You shot me on accident, and then saved me. Again. Even when your men tried to convince you otherwise." Each sentence was slow, filled with Varian needed to take in a breath, but he met his friend's eyes this time. "I think that's a pretty good Captain."

Eugene blinked, then smiled. "Thanks, kid."

Dark voices shouted across the clearing, words incomprehensible. Varian jolted, hands flying up before doubling over hacking. Each cough shook his body so hard you’d think the boy was trembling with fright.

“Woah, easy,” Eugene’s hand rubbed over his back. “Deep breaths. Come on goggles. You got this.”

“You would think,” Varian rasped. “But I do not.”

Finally, with one final hack, his coughs ceased. Each gulp of air felt like heaven, or at least it did for the first few seconds. Then it was replaced by a searing hell, leaving him scrambling again.

God, what is the culprit?

As his breathing quieted, as the burn turned to a small simmer, Varian’s eyes trailed to the forest floor beneath him.

Stained with blood.

Varian’s eyes widened, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks as his entire world focused in on the blood. The dark blues of night left it hard to see, more a black shine than the vicious red, but there was no denying what it was.

“What-oooh,” Eugene hissed, grabbing Varian’s shoulders for support. Shit, this was bad. He made a mental list of symptoms for the inevitable doctor visit: raspy voice, struggling to breathe, coughing up blood... all signs pointed to the noose as the culprit. Whichever guard had tried to strangle Varian was getting fired and arrested.

No, screw it, all of them were.

“Focus on me, hair stripe,” he warned, shaking his brother slightly. “Are you ok to move?” All he got was a weedy moan. “I’m taking that as a maybe.” With no preamble, he scooped his arms under Varian’s knees and back, pulling him into his arms as he stood in one fluid motion. “I’m gonna try and make a run for it, ok? We’re almost to your dad. I just need you to stay with me.”

Silence, and then a faint nod moving against his coat.

Each step sent vibrations up Eugene’s spine, tingling and thrumming in his veins and pounding in time with his heart. The sun would be rising soon, it had to be, with the dew that is forming at his feet.

At some point Varian readjusted, shifting so that he could see over their shoulders. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, but at least he could keep an eye out.

And it’s a good thing he did, when he beats wildly at Eugene’s chest in a signal. The captain was about to duck behind a bush, but the forest’s edge is within sight! Maybe if they made a break for it...?

An arrow grazed his side.

The pain looped through his system, joining the adrenaline for a joyride through his mind and it sent him sprawling. Varian rolled out of his arms, collapsing at the forest’s edge.

Eugene groaned, raising his face with the sun to see Aaron’s smug grin glowing in the upcoming dawn.

“Well, look what I caught! A daddy beast and a baby beast!” He said.

Eugene gaped. “Could you be any creepier? Really, gotta go for the weirdest shit to say, don’t you?”

“Eh,” Aaron shrugged, crossbow in hand. He stepped past his boss (Er, ex boss), boots crunching on leaves and leaving nothing but dust in their wake. “I’m a weird guy, I guess.”

“Yea, a real weirdo. Kidnaps a teenager and has the captain hunt him for sport. A nice quirk, ain’t it!” Each word is angrier than before until he is spitting acid.

Aaron doesn’t even argue; he’s too caught up in his victory. Varian shook as he struggled to sit up, arms quivering with effort. Just as he raised his head his eyes met the gleaming tip of an arrow, aimed right between the eyes. “Say goodnight, kid. Don’t worry. I’ll make a fine trophy out of you. Hang your goggles over my mantle.”

“Would you knock it the fuck off!?” Eugene wheezed, scrambling up. His feet gave out near instantly, but he leapt forward, colliding with the guard and driving his aim up. The arrow whizzed overhead, harmlessly lodging into a tree.

“Varian, run!” Eugene yelled, still on top of the other.

“I CAN’T! What part of arrow in my leg don’t you get!?” Varian yelled, immediately followed by coughing.

Eugene went to answer, only for the butt of the crossbow to whack him in the face.

Aaron laughed, loud and manic, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. It was quickly stopped by a punch to his stomach from the furious man above him. If the others found them, it’d be game over. Literally.

Whether or not Eugene would be killed was unclear. While he didn’t always need Rapunzel to save him, her good graces granted him immunity from most local threats. But they’d definitely kill Varian, and that was the bigger concern to him.

Unfazed, Aaron slammed his skull into Eugene’s, sending him tearing back. The guard quickly flipped them, crossbow still in between.

“Face it,” Aaron snarled. “You’ll never be a true captain. You can’t control your men, can’t protect a kid, can’t even protect yourself. You just got the job because you saved the lost princess.”

“In my defense,” Eugene wheezed. “Your previous guard couldn’t do that either.” That only angered him more, digging the crossbow into Eugene’s Adam’s apple.

The two men wrestled briefly, Eugene finally getting a good grip on the crossbow, and kicking Aaron off of him. He scrambled to Varian, fully prepared to scoop him up and begin the dance again, just for a little longer, but Aaron just yelled out in anger, drawing a sword from his belt. As strong as Eugene was, he couldn’t outrun him with Varian in his arms. He would know, he trained his men to match him in speed and strength.

Varian moaned in pain. He had to do something, he couldn’t just sit here! Eugene had spent the whole night running around, working his ass off to keep him safe after the initial mistake, he couldn’t let him down...

But the arrow scraped against his bone, pain sending stars across his vision any time he stood…

The captain’s hands clenched down on wood, eyes calculating. He looked into Varian’s eyes, then down at his leg. Then up again. And down again. He hissed between teeth, kneeled down, and clenched his fist around the arrow. It sent a pulse of pain through Varian’s leg, the boy wincing, but understanding.

“Do it,” he hissed.

And yanked.

The pain was so sharp, so intense, that for a moment Varian was certain he was dead. There was no way anyone could survive with this much pain, he must surely be dead or dying. White hot agony stabbed into his leg, and he bit so hard on his lip he broke skin. It took everything in him not to scream.

Aaron laughed again, shadow blanketing them. Eugene turned to see him looming over them, sword above his head. “Say goodnight, Sir!” he shrieked.

Fwip!

Thunk!

The man’s grin vanished in an instant, replaced by sheer shock at the arrow sticking straight into his throat. Blood trickled down the wound, looking more like an impulse tracheotomy. Suddenly, he pitched forward, face hitting the forest floor with a sickening shick as the arrow went the rest of the way through his throat. There wasn’t even a struggle, no death rattles or cry of pain, just the sounds of a morning dove in the coming dawn.

Eugene’s shoulders slumped, and Varian leaned back into the cool grass.

“You doing alright there, Goggles?” Eugene called.

“My lungs are on fire, I can’t feel my legs and I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat. I’d say I’m in the mood to die, but I literally just spent the whole night trying to prevent that.”

“...fair enough.”

The weeks that followed were, for lack of a better term, a total fucking nightmare.

After pulling themselves together, the brothers managed to hobble to Varian’s house in Old Corona, just in time to greet Quirin at the door. Imagine the poor man’s shock when he was headed out to work only to be greeted by his son’s blood and the captain’s exhaustion. Suffice to say, they got a proper tongue lashing the whole cart ride to Corona proper, the father fussing over them both while he rushed them to the infirmary. And then they had to get chewed out by Rapunzel, and Lance, and pretty much everyone else, despite their repeated insistence that it wasn’t their fault this time.

“What did you expect us to do? We were being hunted!” Eugene whined at Rapunzel while a nurse cleaned up a cut.

“Uh, I was being hunted. You were hunting me .” Varian hoarsely piped up from his own bed, leg propped up in a cast. He paused at the frantic stop motion Eugene was making, and the paling faces of his father and princess. “Oh. Was I. Not supposed to say that.”

“You’re not supposed to be talking,” Rapunzel chided lightly, though that was clearly not the problem. The doctor had been pretty quick to explain Varian’s breathing issues were just from the throat trauma, and would heal with time and supervision.

“I didn’t know! In my defense,” Eugene held up his hands as if to shield from Quirin’s murderous face, but if looks could kill he’d be a pile of bones. “I didn’t know.”

“How do you…” Quirin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to remind myself that you saved my son’s life and ignore the part where you endangered it in the first place.”

“Yes, please do,” He said, shifting under the glare.

And then came the paperwork.

Trying to figure out who among the guards was part of the hunt was hard enough, seeing as outside of Aaron and his cronies, no one was going to say a word. All they had to go off of were the men who saw Eugene off, and the ones who initially captured Varian. And since they hadn’t run into anyone else directly, no one could be properly accused and charged. But Eugene wasn’t going to take any chances, and therefore anyone who he saw at least once was fired, and if they wanted to dispute it they could come to him and explain why they were willing to throw his little brother to the wolves.

Suffice to say, no one did. Which left Eugene with only two thirds his original squadron. He spent a good while of his recovery vetting new recruits and creating incentives for others to try out, and while he was able to replenish his ranks, they weren’t nearly the same elite task force they’d started with. And considering the threats they faced on the regular, that was a serious problem.

It was after a long day of training and interviews that Eugene finally stumbled into the castle library, ready to destress with a nice long binge read of Flynn Rider. He grabbed a few books off the shelves as he walked, headed for his favorite couch and the cozy fireplace at its side, only to stop dead in his tracks.

Varian lay spread across the couch, foot propped up on the armrest as he glossed over some scientific text that Eugene had no hope of understanding. His eyes flitted up and down the page, clearly not actually reading and more just staring at the words.

“Hey,” Eugene called, and Varian barely reacted. “Oi, kid, that’s my spot. Scooch it.” “I got here first,” Varian said, not looking up for a second.

“Older brother gets first dibs.”

“Little brother gets his way.”

Oh he was gonna play it like that was he? Eugene smirked, plopping his books down at the floor before collapsing directly on top of Varian, making care to not crush the injured leg. Varian squawked in protest, limbs flailing.

“Get off! You’re heavy!” he yelled, trying to push him off. When that failed, he resorted to whacking at him.

“Never!” Eugene laughed. “Your little punches feel like flowers!”

“I have an iron deficiency!” Varian responded, cheeks red but smiling slightly. The captain finally stopped suffocating him, but didn’t get off, instead wiggling in close so they could share. “Mean,” Varian whined, a pout on his lips, but didn’t complain.

“Oh hush,” Eugene chided, grabbing a book from the floor. “You know you love me.”

Varian simply hummed, buck teeth peeking through a tiny grin. “So, what did you grab for today?”

“Ah, glad you asked!” Eugene held up the cover, which Varian oohed in appreciation. “One of the older ones, came out when I was your age.” He wrapped an arm around Varian, pulling his brother close, the warmth of his side and the fire combining to create a heavenly cocoon. “You want to read, or should I?”

“Your turn,” Varian responded, stifling a yawn.

The book creaked in protest, Eugene gazing down at his little brother with a smile. He leaned his cheek on the boy’s hair, deep voice dripping with fondness as he started to read.

Being Captain was fun, but being a brother was even better.

#tangled the series #varian #tts #tangled #team awesome #tts eugene #eugene fitzherbert #tts varian #rta #rapunzel's tangled adventure

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hurricanery · 3 years

Text

If the Sun Comes Up - pt. 4

A/N: Hi, it’s been a while, but here’s part 4 of If the Sun Comes Up! (AU - interns fic). This is me ignoring s17!!! Sorry for the delay, this has been repeatedly deleted from my drafts for the last week & then i didn’t even edit or make changes SO idk what all that was for. anyway thank you for sticking with this story! Previous parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3

Or, you can read on ao3.

_______

And so it starts, you switch the engine on

We set controls for the heart of the sun

One of the ways we show our age

_______

She has no idea how she got here. Or more specifically, how she could be pressured into something like this. Maggie typically prided herself on standing firm; standing her own ground and refusing to be swayed by others. But none of that self-proclamation holds true right now.

Because she’s here. Driving Winston’s car. Trunk filled to capacity and two of her roommates squeezed into the backseat.

The hypocrisy of it all is almost infuriating. Because Maggie hates camping.

“I hate camping,” she voices her detest out loud.

An apologetic sigh can be heard from Winston next to her, where he sits passenger side. But ultimately, it’s Amelia’s voice that grabs her attention, the bewilderment making itself known from the backseat.

“Oh, come on,” there’s an element of disbelief to her tone, and Maggie locks eyes with her through the rear-view mirror.

“Step out of your comfort zone a little, Maggie!” She raises her eyebrows, beginning to gesture with her hands. Link shuffles in his seat, where he’s squeezed in tightly beside Amelia, in an attempt to free up a little space for her body language. Some of the camping supplies had ended up packed over half of the backseat, and Maggie can’t help but chuckle at the proximity of Amelia’s hand to Link’s face as she gestures absentmindedly. “It’s camping. It’s adventurous, it’s-”

Maggie has since focused back on the road, but the sudden pause in speech makes her feel uneasy. Amelia’s focus shifts from the packaged tent next to her, to the back of Winston’s head, and then back to Maggie.

“It’s sleeping in a tent,” she continues, a spark of gleam in her eyes as she scans the couple in the front seat. “Or, maybe it’s not sleeping. Hey, I mean, whatever the two of you-”

“Amelia,” Maggie cuts in, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as Winston’s hand comes to rest on her knee, giving it a soothing squeeze.

“Come on, babe,” Winston murmurs. “It’ll be fun. And plus, Karev would definitely be proud of us.”

Maggie grins a little, despite herself.

They’d been a bit all over the place, as a group of interns. A little bit too chaotic and never fully on the same page. As their resident, Karev was constantly voicing his impatience about the dynamics of the group. She partly thinks that yes, Alex would be proud of the bonding journey that they’d chosen to embark on, but the more realist part of her brain can’t ignore the obviousness that being roommates was probably bonding enough.

Maggie peeks in the rear-view once more, this time checking to make sure that Lexie and Jo are still following in the car behind them. She catches Amelia’s stare again and consequently feels the need to brace herself.

“Babe?” Amelia bites her lip, repeating the pet name Winston had just used. “What happened to ‘we’re just friends?’”

“We are friends.” Maggie sighs, trying her best to ignore the amusement that radiates from Winston at this specific call-out.

“And Link and I are friends,” Amelia’s quick with her rebuttal, tilting her head towards Link. “I don’t go around calling him babe.”

Link sucks in a breath, and then another one, with the addition of Amelia’s afterthought. “But maybe I’ll start.”

It’s subtle. The way Link’s face changes. He hides it just as quickly as it surfaces. But it’s there, she hasn’t imagined it, and it’s the first thing to make Maggie genuinely smile for the length of the trip so far.

“I’m kidding,” Amelia nudges Link with her shoulder. “I can come up with a better nickname than that.”

“Okay enough,” Maggie suppresses the grin she feels spreading across her cheeks. She reaches forward for the knob on the dashboard, turning the music up.

Link’s relief at the diversion tactic is almost palpable. Maggie can practically feel it from the backseat. She thinks maybe the feeling rising in her chest equates to sympathy.

She loves Amelia. She really does. Which is saying a lot, especially for her. It takes effort for her to grow comfortable with people, or to even relate on any level. She’s always felt a step ahead of most people in life. But Amelia really challenges her. It’s only been a couple of months since they’d met, and somewhere along the way, things changed. Amelia’s unpredictable nature had shifted from something Maggie initially feared, to something she appreciates. Like the human embodiment of the push she needs. The push she needs to take things less seriously, or the push she needs to open up and be spontaneous. Whatever the case, it’s never felt more necessary. Like she’s been missing out on it for too long. So, she tries to embrace it at every turn.

“Are we almost there?” Amelia pipes up again from the backseat. “I have to pee, and believe me, I’m down for a little side-of-the-road action if that’s what it comes down to-”

Maggie groans impatiently. But then she remembers about embracing it. So decidedly, her next words sound gentle. “We’re almost there, hold it together.”

_______

It ends up taking two full hours for six surgical interns to figure out how to set up a campsite. And even though the task is grueling, the level of teamwork somehow exceeds what they normally display during a typical hospital shift.

The sun starts to set as the second of the two tents finally stands on it’s own and everyone takes a moment to finally relax.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Link sits back against the tree on the outskirts of their surrounding area.

Jo huffs out a breath as she joins him, rolling her eyes. “That was two hours of my life that I’ll never get back.”

“What’s next?” Amelia steps out of the larger tent, pulling a sweatshirt over her head. “Does anyone know how to build a bonfire?”

_______

She has no idea how it got to this. How six grown adults could resort to immature party games around a campfire and feel so content about it. Maggie had been relieved when the game of ‘truth or dare’ ended as quickly as it started. She’d been hoping for something a bit more intellectual. A little less high school.

Unfortunately her hopes were never granted.

“Wait, I feel like the stakes aren’t high enough.” Amelia had tossed the observation out flimsily.

But the observation had its impact.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

And then the ideas had piled on.

“Loser has to cover my scut work in the ER all week.”

“No way.”

“Loser has to make us each a s'more.”

“Nah. Stakes not high enough.”

“Loser has to jump in the lake.”

Amelia had voiced the last one, resulting in a surprised type of silence. The type of silence that could raise stakes.

It was the ultimatum they were looking for, apparently. And to much of Maggie’s dismay, they hadn’t moved on to an intellectual game. Nothing worth raising the stakes over, at least.

Because they’d settled on a game of ‘never have I ever.’

“Okay, okay. My turn. What have I not done…?” Amelia trails off, deep in thought, and it earns some chuckles from the group. “Oh! Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Suspectful eyes dart around the bonfire, and Link’s attempt to conspicuously fold down a finger fails.

“Link!”

Jo giggles hysterically.

“You have?” There’s surprise in Amelia’s voice, and it corresponds with the way her face lights up.

“You haven’t?” Link bites back.

“Well, almost, I guess. But-”

“Okay!” Jo interjects. “No need for context! That’ll just slow us down. Link, your turn.”

“Okay,” Link grins determinedly across the bonfire, eyes landing on Amelia. “Never have I ever almost had a threesome.”

Amelia scoffs, dropping a finger.

“Wait!” Maggie fast-tracks her disapproval. “Are we singling people out now? The game will end too quickly if we-”

“Never have I ever been named after an iconic literary figure.” Amelia jumps in again, completely ignoring Maggie’s objection.

Link drops a finger, rolling his eyes. Too easy.

“Never have I ever slept with Mark Sloan.”

He sounds proud of this one. And all focus drifts to Amelia, whose eyes narrow only slightly as she drops another finger.

“You did what?” Maggie seems skeptical.

“You did what? When?” And Lexie’s voice sounds strained.

“Shit, sorry. Too far?” Link’s pride genuinely replaces itself with worry.

“I never meant for it to be a secret.” There’s something distinct about Amelia’s tone as she jumps back into the game, clearly with the intention of going after Link again. “Never have I ever-”

“No!” Maggie seems to be the only one intervening at this point. “No, stop. My turn. If we play it your way, this game will be over in two seconds.”

Amelia and Link shrug dismissively amidst the general hums of agreement.

“Never have I ever…” Maggie pauses, taking a moment to truly think on it. She racks her brain for ways to prolong the game. “Never have I ever been arrested!”

Amelia slowly drops her last finger, a grimace consuming her face, and Maggie’s mouth opens wide in shock.

“Amelia, what,” she breathes. “I was trying to keep people in the game. What-”

“We agreed on no context!” Amelia is quick to refute, forcing a grin as she repeats the request spoken earlier.

“Okay….” She draws out her response, and the next part of her sentence sounds quiet, or laced with secondhand defeat. “But you lost the game already.”

“That’s fine,” Amelia is just as quick to stand from her chair, shrugging casually at what that entails.

“Amelia-”

“To the lake? Or am I doing this without witnesses?”

Maggie’s brows furrow at the bitterness that exists in that question, but then Amelia turns, walking away from them, and Maggie is the first to go after her.

_______

"Amelia, you’re the one who made the rule. You can’t back out now.”

They’re all huddled together at the sandy area near the dock that edges out into the dark lake, and Maggie can’t hold back her impatience. She’s a rule-follower, after all. She's also cold. And she just wants to be by the bonfire again.

“I know, I know. I’m….” Amelia trails off, exhaling harshly. “Just give me a minute.”

There’s momentary quiet. The kind of quiet that nearly gives room for everyone to re-think what’s about to happen. But, if anyone's thoughts were the loudest, they were Amelia’s.

“The sun was still out when I made up this rule!”

That’s true. Maggie can give her that. It’s late now, purely dark outside except for the glow of the moonlight reflecting off of the lake.

“We don’t know what’s in there…” Amelia adds, eyes focused on the body of water before them. “We don’t know if it’s safe to swim here.”

“It’s a state park,” Winston chuckles.

“And there’s a sign right there,” Lexie adds matter-of-factly, nodding towards the edge of the sand. “No lifeguard on duty. Swim at your own risk.”

“Amelia, it's a swimming beach.”

There’s an element to Amelia’s expression that Maggie sees herself in. It provokes that feeling. The heart-lurching feeling that comes with the awareness that you can’t bring yourself to do the thing you intend to do. The restlessness that rises with the opposition of your mind moving miles a minute but your feet remaining frozen where you stand. It takes place in the nervous system. And it’s like the physical manifestation of not being able to rip the bandaid off, or not being able to take the plunge, to be more literal in this scenario.

Suddenly, Maggie’s hit with the fleeting recognition that everyone’s the same deep down. Some were just better at hiding it than others.

The revelation almost makes her feel sympathy. Almost.

Because Amelia’s version of hiding it was turning out to be displaced over-confidence.

“I knew you were all talk and no-”

“I’ll jump in with you,” Link interrupts, nudging Amelia, who shakes from her daze as she turns away from the lake, locking eyes with Link.

“Shit, I’m down, too,” Jo shrugs. “I’m right behind you guys.”

A look of pure skepticism crosses Amelia’s face, and Link just starts to grin, hugely.

“No,” Maggie breathes. “No, no, no.”

Because she knows what this is about to turn into. And then it’s all happening, fast.

Link is stripping down to his boxers, tossing his clothes into a pile on the grass just left of the dock. And then he’s running. His feet clamber against the wood paneling as he takes off over the structure that extends along the shore and into the body of water.

There’s a huge splash. And then he resurfaces, gasping.

“It’s not that deep, come on!” He yells. “And it’s warm, too. Like a hot tub!”

The next thing Maggie registers is that Jo is following suit, peeling off her sweatshirt and tossing it towards Link’s pile of clothes.

She feels Winston’s hand grip her shoulders, gently pushing her towards the dock as he murmurs “Come on, babe.”

There’s another splash somewhere, and then Jo resurfaces, giggling hysterically. "Link!” She gasps dramatically, “You liar, this is fucking freezing!”

And all Maggie can think is this is so unfair.

_______

It’s so unfair.

The fact that five people have somehow endured jumping into this lake and yet, Amelia remains unscathed. Secure, on dry land, a smirk on her face that can only signify that she thinks she’s won.

“Amelia!” Maggie yells once again. “You have thirty seconds to get into this water.”

“Maggie-”

“No way,” Maggie cuts her off before the smug tone can set her off even further. She lets go of Winston’s shoulder, which she’s been holding onto for dear life since she jumped in, and she swims closer to the dock. Closer to Amelia. “I won’t let you play us like this.”

Amelia grins further, dipping just her toes in the water. “Maggie, I’m not trying to play anyone, I-”

“Get in the water, Amelia!” Maggie shouts, but her impatience only leads to more smugness on Amelia’s behalf.

She almost gives up. Accepts defeat. But then Link is joining her, inching towards Amelia on the dock, whose expression falters only slightly as they approach.

“Should we splash her?” Maggie tilts her head towards Link, inquisitive edge to her voice. “We could splash her.”

The threat seems to be the push Amelia needs. She shakes her head incessantly as they make their advance, and she takes a deep breath before she goes to remove her jeans, adding them to the pile of clothes that everyone else has stripped off.

Jo whistles from somewhere further out into the lake and Amelia’s smirk returns, a complete result of the knowledge that she has an audience. Her classic Harvard sweatshirt gets added to the pile and then she’s on an even playing field with everyone else, dressed down to whatever underwear she’d thrown on this morning.

They continue their approach, and Amelia looks down just as a burst of wind forcibly shakes the branches of a tree above, thus causing her to wrap her arms around herself.

“You’ll warm up faster if you get in, Shepherd.” Link says in a low tone.

“I know,” Amelia’s tone is just as low. “But I’m not jumping.”

“What happened to adventurous?!” Maggie mocks her. Not harshly, but more so aiming to re-inspire the fearlessness that previously had been.

“I’m not jumping in,” Amelia repeats as she sits at the edge of the dock, letting the water hit her up to about mid-shin. “I’m just gonna kind of slide in….” She trails off as Link pushes forward, now in shallow enough water to stand. And when Amelia goes to wrap her arms around herself again, Maggie swears it’s out of modesty this time.

“It’s harder that way,” Link smiles up at her. “But okay.”

“Okay,” she repeats his sentiment, but doesn’t make any move to get into the water.

“Okay,” Maggie interjects, directing her next words at Link. “As apparently the only rule-follower here, I give you full permission to do whatever it takes to get her into this water already.”

Her instructions result in a mischievous twitch of Link’s lips, and conversely, a look of complete betrayal from Amelia.

“Your rules.” Maggie quietly defends herself.

Link turns back to Amelia, who meets his gaze with pure panic in her eyes. But he steps closer anyway, placing his hands around her shins and pulling her a couple inches closer to where he stands in the water.

She gasps. Her hands fly out, landing on his shoulders. “Wait wait wait!” She cries, the alarm in her voice matching the frantic action of her nails digging into his skin.

Link stops his movements, placing his hands on her knees as he tries to read her facial expression.

Her eyes dart between his. “You swear it’s not too cold?”

“It’s not cold, Amelia,” he murmurs, moving his hands underneath her bare thighs and pulling her forward an inch more.

Maggie looks between the two, suddenly feeling out of place, or like she’s witnessing a private moment. But, she can’t tear her eyes away. She feels transfixed by the eye contact happening between the pair, and she lets out a stunned chuckle.

“It’s not cold,” Link repeats, and now Maggie scoffs. Because this moment is becoming almost unbelievable with tension. But then Link’s expression changes. Just as quickly as flipping a switch. The facet of mischief returns to his eyes and then he’s opening his mouth again.

“And I’m so sorry for this!” He shouts as he finally pulls Amelia into the water, throwing his head back with laughter as she resurfaces before him.

Her arms are still wrapped around his shoulders in a viselike grip. “Alright, screw you for that!” She laughs as she comes to her senses, consequently letting go and distancing herself from Link. “But thank you, I guess."

“My pleasure.”

Maggie watches, eyes burning with curiosity, and she’s not able to hide the smile that creeps onto her lips as the pair move as far away from each other as possible. The interaction is way too amusing, and part of her feels like, if she were the menacing type, this would be the perfect opportunity to pay back some of Amelia’s relentless teasing with some of her own.

“Can we get out now?” Lexie swims up, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m kinda over this.”

“I just got in. Was that for no reason?!”

“And whose fault is that?” Maggie snickers. But it doesn’t sound harsh at all, as she offers Amelia a comforting smile.

When they eventually leave the shoreline, Maggie feels a sense of fondness course through her. Or maybe protectiveness. Whatever the feeling, it was definitely the stark opposite of her previous annoyance with the way the evening was turning out.

She carefully observes as Amelia slows behind the group, and she slows with her, matching her pace.

Amelia offers her a small smile, before a shiver takes over her body, interrupting her guise. It makes sense, Maggie thinks. Because soaking wet hair and the sun going down in the middle of nowhere might just bring on that sort of involuntary action.

But she can’t ignore the shift in energy. The sudden vanishing of the confidence and even the playful competitiveness.

“You okay?” She eventually asks.

“Tired.” Amelia only offers a shrug, her thumbnail nearly reaching the corner of her mouth in a restless action. But it’s like she catches herself, as Maggie’s stare burns into her, and instead she drops her hands to her sides.

“Me too,” Maggie’s voice is soft, and an impulse rises in her that screams comfort. Suddenly, her arm is wrapping around Amelia’s shoulder tightly, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.”

_______

It’s a known fact that Maggie hates camping. She can think of several reasons for that. One of the side effects she’d fail to consider, though, was the consequent lack of rest that would come with it.

It couldn’t be any later than 5am, she concludes, as she unzips her and Winston’s tent and steps out into the dark campground.

To much of her surprise, she’s not alone. She’s not the only one experiencing the unwanted side effects of sleeping in a tent.

“Hey,” Amelia’s voice sounds gravelly, as she perks up from the chair she’s seated at around the empty bonfire. “Good morning.”

“How can it be morning?” Maggie groans. “Does it really count as morning when you didn’t get any sleep at all?”

“You’re preaching to the choir.”

Maggie frowns. “You didn’t sleep?”

“Link snores. And Lexie talks in her sleep….” Amelia weakly attempts a smile, and it just makes Maggie’s frown deepen.

“Everything alright?” She asks.

“Yeah, just wish I’d slept better.”

Maggie squints, because there’s detail there that she can’t quite decipher. She scans Amelia’s face another moment, before an idea strikes.

“Do you want to go on a hike with me? Watch the sunrise?”

“You don’t really seem like the hiking type.”

“You’re right. I guess ‘hike’ is a strong word. But anyway, how about it?”

Amelia stares blankly at her for a long moment, before eventually she nods, standing up.

“Alright,” Maggie grins. “Let me tell Winston where we’re going first.”

_______

They take a marked path. Signs at every turn highlight for them which way to go. It’s a few minutes into the hike before either of them speaks. It’s Amelia who opens up the conversation.

“Ready to be home?”

Maggie laughs. “Absolutely. I’ve been ready since the moment we got here.”

“Well, hopefully they have the cars all packed by the time we get back.”

Maggie nods, then reaches for the water bottle she’d brought with her, taking a few sips.

“Do I tease you and Winston too much?”

The question completely catches Maggie off guard, and she harshly swallows her sip of water.

“Huh?”

“I can be….a little overbearing sometimes. But,” Amelia offers a quick side-glance. ��At least I’m self aware about that.”

“Not at all. I mean, honestly, Winston gets a kick out of it so-”

“Yeah, but do you?”

Maggie stops walking, her face muddled with confusion. It takes Amelia a moment to realize she’s stopped, and she turns around, meeting Maggie’s stare expectantly.

“Amelia….If it bothered me I would tell you.”

Amelia nods at this information, and then turns away, continuing on the path.

“Was I too harsh last night? About the rules of the game?” Maggie quickens her pace, catching up.

“No,” Amelia laughs under her breath. “We needed the discipline, I think.”

“Yeah but you didn’t need to jump into that lake. I can be a little of overbearing sometimes, too, so-”

“Nah. We balance each other out.”

Maggie squints, a little surprised by that observation. She’s taken aback by the accuracy of it, and it’s evident in her inflection.

“We kind of do, don’t we?”

Amelia beams at her, before her gaze returns to the path below. “I’m glad we came to that realization.”

Comfortable silence falls between them, and there’s a few minutes dedicated purely to the hike, before Amelia clears her throat to speak again.

“Although, I am trying to jump less. So maybe I need you to balance me out just a little more.”

“You lost me,” Maggie quirks an eyebrow at her. “Are we talking about the lake still?”

“Metaphorically. Maybe.”

Maggie’s expression just grows more perplexed, urging Amelia to continue.

“I’ve been….historically known to jump into things. Or people. Or habits, or…” She cuts herself off with a harsh breath, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’d like to do that less. The whole….jumping blindly and hoping I’ll land, thing. So. Maybe I need you to balance me out a little more.”

Maggie nods, slowly grasping the explanation. “I get that.”

“Do you?”

“Well, no,” Maggie frowns. “I’ve never been one to….do anything, really, without weighing the pros and cons first. But, I do get what you’re saying, though. Even if I can’t personally relate.”

Amelia keeps her eyes glued to the path ahead, and the lack of response forces Maggie to attempt filling the silence with her own self-reflection.

“I’ve been thinking of taking a note from you, in that way, actually. Sometimes I really need to think less.”

This makes Amelia smile. “Maybe we can try to meet in the middle somewhere.”

“Yeah, that might be good for us.”

As the conversation trails off again, Maggie can’t help but question what specifically Amelia is referencing. She doesn’t want to push, especially given her recent self-proclamation as overbearing. But part of her thinks that one last inquiry won’t hurt.

“You and Link seem to have fun.”

Amelia’s eyes snap up to Maggie’s face before the sentence is even finished.

“What makes you say that?”

There’s not an ounce of emotion in Amelia’s expression. It’s probably the best poker face Maggie has ever seen. And so she’s careful with her next words, her voice slow and questioning.

“I just mean....you know….the banter?”

“Banter?”

“Yes the banter, Amelia,” she lets out a stunned chuckle. “I don’t know how else to put it! It’s like you’re constantly play-fighting. It’s like….it’s like this weird, alluring competitiveness that’s almost uncomfortable to watch. It’s being at each other’s throats over a stupid game of ‘never have I ever.’ It’s the craziest form of flirting I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s-”

“Link and I are friends.”

“Winston and I are friends.” She bites down on her grin, trying to contain the pride that radiates as she uses Amelia’s own pointed claims against her.

“Okay, don’t pull that on me.”

“I think it’s perfectly fair-”

“Maggie.”

“Amelia.”

Two pairs of eyes tighten upon scrutinized contact.

“Amelia,” she softens her expression a bit. “All I’m saying is….despite it being weird to watch.” She releases an awkward exhale. “I think it works. I think you’ve kinda met your match.”

“There’s no match to be made, Maggie! I’m-”

They’re both a little caught off guard by the frustration and volume of Amelia’s tone. And Amelia takes a moment to breathe before she continues, an octave lower this time.

“I’m jumping less, remember?”

Maggie wants to frown. She wants to disagree. She almost wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

But they’re edging towards the outskirts of the campsite. She can hear voices, and the distinct sound of car trunks slamming shut. Which signifies that they’re nearing the end of the hike, so she bites her tongue instead, because Amelia looks too exhausted to argue it more.

They clear the trees, entering the campground, and Winston watches them approach.

“Hey! Cars are packed, but it’ll be a tight squeeze again,” he smiles sympathetically. He walks forward to rest his hands on Maggie’s shoulders in familiar reassurance. “And you get to sleep in the car, because this time I’m driving.”

_______

Maggie doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

Her lack of sleep the night prior results in Winston’s refusal to let her drive. Which only bothers her a little, because the exhaustion outweighs her requisite for control.

Her eyes feel heavy as she rests her head against the window. She tries to focus on the road ahead as Winston drives; doesn't want to give up being a second pair of eyes as she sits passenger side. But her fatigue gets the best of her. Although it’s difficult to separate her overtired brain from certainty, she doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

She hears it first. Link’s chuckle.

It’s enough to shake her from her reverie. She lifts her head and tries to be conspicuous as she turns, glancing into the backseat.

Amelia’s sat in the middle seat again, squeezed tightly between the camping supplies and then Link on the other side of her. Her eyes are fighting to stay open, and she's doing that weird head bobbing thing. That subconscious move that happens quite literally before falling asleep.

“Hey. Here.”

The sound of Link’s voice causes Amelia’s eyes to widen, quickly becoming aware of herself. She continues to blink, fighting off a bout of exhaustion that Maggie completely sympathizes with.

When Amelia locks eyes with him, Link simply pats his shoulder, indicating a potential landing spot for her head.

She frowns tiredly at him.

“Just do it,” he shrugs, patting his shoulder again. “I’m a better option than that boxed tent.” He nods past her. “As far as pillows go, at least.”

Amelia seems to fight it for a second. She really does. Her eyebrows pull together as she continues to stare blankly at Link.

Maggie diverts her attention because once again, she feels like she’s intruding on some private moment. But she remains listening. She can’t help it. There’s some shuffling around and then-

“Hm.” She hears Amelia hum. “You do make a decent pillow.” It’s followed by a murmured “Thank you.”

“Sure. What are friends for?”

Link’s response is barely a whisper, but Maggie can hear it still, even over the general hum of the highway below. She doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

What are friends for?

It’s enough to make her turn in her seat again, an incredulous stare plastered on her face as she raises her eyebrows in Link’s direction.

He seems not to notice her interest, or rather her disbelief. Because his focus is consumed by the dark head of hair resting against his shoulder.

Amelia’s eyes are shut tight, her expression revealed when she adjusts herself slightly against him. And then Link smiles to himself, still unaware of the scrutiny descending from the front seat.

Maggie allows the doubt to flood her mind as she turns to rest against her own window again, and she fights off a smile as she lets her eyes finally close.

Friends. Right.

#amelink #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #everyone look away bc this one is way too self-indulgent #im sorry it took me so long to post this ive been. hm whats the best way to put this #freaking out all the time all day every day #but i love writing this story so #also this is the second time i’ve ever written a game of never have i ever in a fic lmaooo #idk what THATS ABOUT but apparently i love to recycle that idea #don't let me take a long time to update ok harass me if u want this story to continue bc i need the harassment #also im Maggie in this fic just relentlessly shipping amelia and link she’s my outlet although she was very hard to write pov wise #amelia x link #amelinkfanfiction #my writing #if the sun comes up #grey's anatomy fanfic #grey's anatomy fic #grey's anatomy #maggie pierce #maggie x amelia #winston ndugu #magston #jo wilson #lexie grey #sorry for the excessive tags i just haven’t posted in so long and this felt like a better scenario than a long ass a/n

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everafterkeiji · 4 years

Text

Song: Certain Things by James Arthur

Summary: When the setter's decision led him to a war with his heart.

Pairings: Keiji Akaashi x fem! reader

Word count: 5.3k

Genre: angst

A/N: i used to listen to this song nonstop and it just suited how sad this is so no happy endings for this one🤺

"Keiji!"

You watch as she runs up to him, engulfing him in the sweetest hug you could ever imagine. How you envy the feeling of being welcome in his arms. His eyes soften at the sight of her, as she rambled on how amazing he was. He gives her his heart fluttering smile as he lets his palm set on her shoulder, kindly thanking her for watching and supporting him throughout the entire game.

Did your shouts of love become silent to him?

She grabs his towel, patting it lightly on his forehead as he blushes finding the gesture extremely embarassing for the girl he longs for to just wipe away his sweat. He tries to stop her but she insisted, even grabbing her water bottle and giving it to him, asking him to drink some water and rest.

"Hey hey hey- look at me please."

Bokuto says, coming from behind you. You turn to him with water baring eyes, a heartache eating you up with every second you continue to watch. Bokuto sighs as he pulls you in his arms, his chin resting on your crown, as he caresses your hair as you let out an agonizing sob. Bokuto sees the way Akaashi didn't bother to spare them a glance, as Akaashis overall being was captivated by the girl that was beside him. He coes her, whispering how he's got her and he'll never have the courage to let her go, the way the dark haired boy did.

"We won today yeah? Why don't we celebrate?" Bokuto tries to tone his voice in his usual cheery self but feels defeated when he sees her. Y/N looks up at him, he tenses up as he holds your head, an instinct that you were going to look again. You were mid way into letting your eyes land on them but Bokuto stopped you as he held your face in his palm, looking at you with an expression you were well familiar with.

"Y/N."

" 'Taro, shit I'm sorry!" You shouted before wiping away your eyes as his heart winces seeing his friend poorly attempt to regain the sunshine that she once was. Puffed cheeks, swollen eyes, red tinted nose, what a cruel sight yet she dared to cover all of these with a smile. It was disgusting how she made it look so believable, fooling almost everyone that witnessed her little facade. Bokuto falling for it countless of times but has learned to tell the difference every now and then, fitting in for the spot of her once best friend who knew exactly what she was truly feeling.

Akaashi would've read her like a novel he loved but it seems like it wasn't as timeless anymore.

It was now up to Bokuto to handle the shattered girl, even when her own broken heart pierced through her like a knife everyday.

"I-I know a good place to eat at! Maybe then I can treat you for being my favorite ace?" She offers with a sickening chuckle. She was achingly trying. He only gives her a smile, accepting her efforts of hiding how empty she felt. He lets his arm fall on her shoulders, comforting her with everything he can do.

"Oh! I'd like that, kind of like a double date huh? Seems like I get to treat my favorite setter too!" Akemi states, eyes darting towards Akaashi as he becomes flustered with her words. Bokutos eyebrow furrows, and with a pout he tries to insist that you didn't want her to accompany them, but you let your arm come before him as he questions your decisions.

"Sure! The more the merrier right, Ko?" Akemi claps her hand as she gathers her things, Akaashi doing the same. Bokuto takes notice of your longing gaze as he pulls you with him.

"So is that right? I'm your favorite?" Bokuto teases, as you laugh punching him lightly on his shoulder. He chuckles but was taken by surprise as you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tip toes to reach him. He immediately wraps his arms around your waist as you pat his hair, nuzzling your face in his neck as you smile, feeling gratitude for an amazing friend like him.

"You were fantastic earlier, I'm sorry for being so-" Bokuto cuts you off with a shout of triumph, making you confused as he pulls away. He wouldn't let her continue her sentence, knowing he couldn't stand hearing her blame herself for something she couldn't handle.

"Ah! What a starter! Thanks Y/N! No wonder I'm the best huh?" He shouts closing his eyes, putting his hands on his hips smiling to himself. You laugh, enjoying how it fed his confidence. Akaashi turns to the two of you watching how Bokuto oddly portray his muscles as you laugh loudly. Akemi smiles beside him, finding the duo quite suited for each other

"They should date! Bokuto makes her so happy!" She claims, as Akaashi blinks, shaking his head turning to meet her green eyes.

"She hates guy who shows off their muscles like that. She think's its a bit cocky." Akemi laughs at Akaashi, since what he said sounded like a known fact.

"Maybe everything can change when she's with him."

She states, making his eyes widen. Impossible. She can't just switch her words just because of Bokuto. He says to himself. Once he hears how genuine your laugh was and realizes that the ace was the cause of it, he stiffens at the thought of the you and the captain together. Akaashi was the one to introduce you to him so it was a surprise you two would come together like that, especially when he felt how Bokuto adjusted to you quite quickly.

"Ooh Y/N likes that color! Will you get it for her, Akaashi?!" Bokuto asks, pointing excitedly at a plush toy. Akaashis blue eyes turned to the location where the finger was pointed and he smiles seeing an immensely cute plush toy he knew you would love but this glee ends when he realizes that Bokuto managed to remember your favorite color.

"Bokuto-san, I'm impressed you knew what she liked." He said with an amused smile. The other boys eyes glimmered in the moonlight, remembering your past conversations with him.

"It's easy! Y/N always talk about many things and it's so freaking awesome. You've known her for the longest time right 'Kaashi? She's so cool." His words bring a smile to the setters lips, loving how Bokuto got along with you so well.

"Oh wait! Akaashi!"

"Yes, Bokuto-san?"

"Well! You've been with her since you were young right? So that means.. you like her!"

Akaashi coughs on his water looking at Bokuto. Bokutos cackle echoed through the air and his words consuming Akaashi's thoughts.

"I do like her but not romantically ok?" He defends, but Bokuto let's out a displeased scoff skipping ahead of the flustered setter. Happily moving knowing he's got him on a hot seat.

"That can change Akaashi!"

And it did.

For Y/N to watch Akemi casually serve Akaashi his food, it was like being tortured in a chamber or watching it to make your brain rot. They look perfect, she thinks. Bokuto was eating happily beside him, and setting aside how hurt she was, she chose to ignore the throbbing of her heart. Akaashi was in front of her as Akemi was in front of Bokuto. The two were in well conversation as Bokuto tried to gather your attention while he brings up how excited he was for a new move.

Dropping your chopsticks, you curse as you got out of your chair to bend down and reach it. Grabbing it in your hands as you look up to see a hand covering the sharp corner of the table. Your eyes follow it and realizing it was Akaashis hand, protecting you if you were to hit your head. This minimal effort was enough to set your soul on fire, admiring how he was able to act so quickly and composed. You return to your seat, Akaashi watching you steadily to make sure you were back. You give him a nod, thanking him for being observant as he smiles to you instead.

Just maybe.

You feel the rising heat on your cheeks as you sip water, hoping it were to ease your frantic heart. You observe Akemi, and painfully suck in the harsh truth that you couldn't deny. Everything that Akaashi has told you about his dream girl, the list of expectations he's had, it was all her. The embodiment of what Akaashi wants to hold, to love and to keep. You hear how her laughter sounded like gentle music, even her personality radiated nothing but sunshine.

All you can do was sigh, when a dream like her already has captured the heart of the young boy you grew to love.

She drops her phone, somewhat mirroring your actions beforehand. Akaashi turns to her immediately, as your heart took another strike seeing him mimic the same actions he had with you. Hand covering the edge, with a gentle hand on her back as she picks up the device leaving you stranded in strings of pain. She smiles at him, casually resting her hand on his as a thank you. Akaashi immediately blushes before placing his other hand on top, eyes lovingly holding onto hers.

The string of hope that you held on for dear life, immediately broke as you let the cup of water fall from your hands, taking an excruciating hit as you were brought back to the silent beating of your heart.

I'm certain that I'm yours.

Or at least I thought.

Bokuto calls your name multiple times as he frantically wipes the spillage of the water that was on the table and on your attire. You felt towels pat your lap gently as Bokuto still continued to put effort in grabbing your attention. Akemi looks at you concerned, worried for whatever thought that you had in mind was enough for you to completely lose your grip on reality.

"Y/N, hey!"

"I didn't think I'd be able to stay with you this long, Y/N." He says with a smile as you walk with him. It was early in the morning, both on your way to school. Coffee in both hands as you give him a pout, finding his statement in a different tone.

"You make it sound like you're unfortunate." You joke as Akaashi laughs beside you, sipping coffee before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"You've been with me even before I got in Fukurodani. I'm just really happy I've found somebody to turn to." You smile as your fingers brush against each other in which at the contact made you both blush. All the tension that was held in the moment was a bunch of unheard confessions, both unwilling to let them speak.

"I'm lucky I have you too, Kei."

"Seems like someone isn't technically happy of sharing the spotlight with me." Akaashi teases pointing at a very sleepy Bokuto who was walking up to you two.You giggle at the setter, while his blue eyes stayed on your smiling lips, relieved that it didn't fail to make him smile as well.

"Y/N."

A stern voice makes your gloomy eyes trail over to a pair of blue ones you were addicted to.

"Y/N? What's wrong with you? You made a mess." He says, completely knocking you off your limit. You stood up, hands on the table with your head down as Bokuto grunts knowing exactly what was bound to happen.

"I'm sorry Akaashi."

"That was reckless. You could've spilled it all over us, even Akemi-"

Bokuto winces when the name slips off of Akaashis lips as you hastily grab your wallet placing the money to Bokuto and mumbling a sorry before rushing to leave, tears falling from your tired eyes once you were out of the restaurant. Bokuto observes the way Akaashis eyes remained enlarged when it hit him how harsh he was. The captain wished that this worry of Akaashi would last long, since this was his first time seeing the setter show any concern for the poor girl in such a long time.

"Bokuto, will she be alright?" Akemi asks him, as he lets out a shrug of defeat. Akaashi bit his lip feeling the responsibility of his actions weigh on both him and the ace. He knew that Bokuto would never be able to comfort her the way he does, and reading her expressions when she left, reassuring her wouldn't be as easy.

Because he was the reason why she was hurting, not even realizing the damage has been done too many times already.

Your feet felt like weights as you ran, feeling the burn of guilt pass through you. On your way to pick up some snacks and refreshments for their match, a certain sight caught your eye leading you to your current decision.

"Yes thank you!" You say with a smile before, leaving the store with the things you bought. You rub your eyes, hating how early you had to catch a bus for their match. This was your only chance to watch them again since you avoided Akaashi for days, making Bokuto your company. You apologized dozens of times to Bokuto for leaving him in an awkward situation. Of course he forgave you, deciding to treat you to a movie instead to erase your worry.

Suddenly a familiar voice spikes up your interest, your head turning left and right to find Akemi. Instead, a tall man walks pass you carrying a bag that you've seen multiple times. You shrug, not wanting to lead to conclusions knowing how Akemi was genuine with her admiration for Akaashi.

"Haru-san!"

Akemi greets, arms wrapped around the waist of the man. You turn to see the two hugging and you gripped the plastic bag in your hands, as Haru places a gentle kiss on her forehead making you stunned even more.

"So where we going later?" He asks, as you lower your head, trying to control your breathing. This is impossible. How could she just lead him on like that! You despised how you weren't able to save Akaashi from the beginning, and now it was your turn to drop a heavy bomb on your best friend.

"We'll meet up later okay? I'll just attend my friend's match."

Friends.

You immediately walked away, weakened at what she just said. No matter shape or form, Akaashi would be hurt, completely. It hurt you that you'd have to see the painful expression on Akaashis face. You bit your lip, trying to avoid the look of dismay on your best friend. You let out a sad sigh as you began to pick up the pace in your walk.

Is it his turn to feel hopeless?

You've tried your best to avoid him. The tension being unresolved between the two of you yet you were happy Akaashi understood why you've created distance between you and him.

Knowing the two were inseparable, you were the one to adjust whenever Bokuto would be heading to practice or even going to lunch. Although, Akaashi gave you some space knowing his outburst completely set a different side to your friendship. You two have never really fought in such a way, he knew even if it was a small fight there was a distinct aura that surrounded the two of you. Beyond what happened, he knew you were facing some other problem that he was clueless of and him adding to your issues wasn't helping the both of you.

So whenever the dark haired boy saw you bid goodbye to Bokuto whenever he was on his way to approach the captain, it stung in his heart.

Akaashi sighs beside Bokuto. Koutaro was prepping himself up completely, pressing his palms to his cheeks. They were up to play soon and the blue eyed boy wonders if she would be able to make it back in time. While he wonders about you, his mind swerves to Akemi. He finds himself foolishly smiling at the thought of them holding hands at the restaurant so he looks at his phone, finding her contact and glancing at their photo.

Next to her contact was yours, which he was hesitant to tap on. He shuts off his phone before seeing Bokuto wave frantically with a smile on his face. Akaashi looks at you, eyes shining knowing you made it just in time to bid him goodluck and hopefully to clear up the quarrel. You felt your heart leap with every step, a war in your head in how you were going to tell him. Your hands tightened as you walk over to them, Bokuto patting your head showing how delighted he was that you were there. Akaashi wonders if you could even spare him a glance.

" 'Taro! I have your snacks but- promise me you'll be the best out there and maybe I'll treat you later!" You say as Bokuto punches the air, his mind in a frenzy at the scenario in his head of eating his favorite food.

You turn to Akaashi, shakily grabbing his arm as he stiffens at your sudden contact. He looks at your weary eyes as you desperately tried to calm down.

"Keiji, can we talk?" Why did you say it like that? He asks himself. His name has never sounded so troublesome before. He fidgets with his fingers as he trails behind you as you lead him to a more private place. You felt the shivers reach your body, immediately bringing coldness at how anxious you were. This was the first time in days where you two would be able to converse properly again.

As you make your way to a corner, Akaashis feet was tapping furiously, scared of what you were going to say. He waits for you to speak as he watches you take a deep breath as you hold his arm once again. Softer than before but it felt like a desperate touch.

"Kei- you do trust me right?" Akaashi nods immediately, lips frowning at the tone of her voice. Is she going to leave me? Please say no. He wanted to get this over with so he wonders if you were just going to rip off the bandaid and end the friendship even if he was willing to apologize multiple times. But then, how could you end it just because he was right about being reckless?

"Akemi- she has a boyfriend, Keiji-"

"You came.. to tell me this?"

"Akaashi- I-I know you like her but"

"God Y/N how could you.." Akaashi exclaims as you aggresively run your fingers through your hair, before grabbing his jacket trying to make him stay. He stands there in shock, as rage and envy flow through him overwhelming him in the process. His hands form a ball as it tightens quickly at the thought of how Akemi was just being nice all the time.

Akaashi looks at you only to find truth in your eyes but his heart betrays the both of you, now broken and in denial that the girl he adored was dating somebody that wasn't him.

"Akaashi, please listen to me! I don't want you to get hurt..believe me!" You pleaded, throwing away how hurt you were from the drastic change in his tone.

"Hurt? So you think you're being considerate then?" Akaashi questions her with spite in his tone. His demeanor towering over her as she crumbles at his voice. Akaashis heart coming back to the reason why it was guarded in the first place.

"Keiji.. you know that's not what I mean!" You defended yourself as Akaashi scoffs. It was mocking you how composed he looked yet the tone of his voice was laced with pure hatred. Deep down, Akaashi accepted the fact that he could never really win Akemi but he was blinded by the pain that you brought him.

"You're just jealous, Y/N. Stop lying." He continued, making you shake your head as you tried to grasp his jacket again but this time your hands barely touched the fabric making your heart gasp at how Akaashi was out of your grip.

"I didn't know you could pull off being a liar, and I don't see myself being a friend with a trait like yours."

The tears flowed down your cheeks as you let out a shakey breath, in disbelief at what he just said. I'm not lying, Akaashi. You promised me you trusted me.

"You said you t-trusted me, Akaashi! How could that change for you!" You shouted as he was brought back to Akemis words.

"Maybe everything can change."

"You promise I'll be okay?"

"I've got no reason to doubt you." He says smiling as you lean your head on his shoulder, tracing random lines and doodling away on his soft skin. Under the beautiful tree, with purple painted skies with clouds up above. After a stressful day on your side, the setter took notice of how you've let yourself fall onto your insecurities once again so he took it upon himself and brought you to a silent place to show you how you shouldn't worry about anything, comforting you with his kind words and him trusting you that would be able to regain your old self again.

"Certain things hurt and you're my only virtue." You confess as his heart spikes up its speed with your response. You sat up, gazing at the houses who seemed too tiny from your distance. You held your knees to your chest with lips formed in a relaxed state as you lean on your arm that was on top of your knee.

And I'm virtually yours.

Akaashi remained with his back on the grass as he admired your features wondering how you could ever put yourself down, when you took away his words whenever you were with him, hiding it perfectly and keeping his admiration far from you to avoid the continous breaking of his heart knowing he'd betray your beloved friendship.

I adore you, he thinks to himself as the only thing that reflected in his eyes were the girl he's lost to his wrong decision.

"You changed and it's disappointing. All because of jealousy? I've been with you for so long, how did you become selfish?"

Selfish. I must've been crazy then, you think. You let out a bitter chuckle, Akaashi frightened at this side of you you've yet to show him before. It was like poison consuming your body, in which the poison came in the form of his words.

"All I've ever been is selfless, god I even let you fall for someone else when I've been in love with you for years."

You took a step back as Akaashi stood where he was, feeling as if his feet couldn't leave the floor as he lets himself drown in your confession. He gulps as he was struck with regret since he had no idea how to respond to you. His eyes trail to the floor as he struggles to find the words.

Then the battle began, between in what he knows whose right for you and his heart who wanted no one else but you.

He was miserable. A side of him wanted to say how much he's waited for you to bid those words to him and claim that he's felt the same as you, but the other side wanted to badly decline knowing he was stuck in choosing you and Akemi. Akemi who has effortlessly tugged on his heart strings and gained it with her gentleness and beautiful personality, and you who's promised to stay forever and loved him longer than anyone else has.

Don't make me choose on who I love more.

He knew the time would come where his decisions would bare another heavy mark on him. He's already made a terrible one by putting his heart in the hands of Akemis instead of yours. He wishes there wasn't a deadline to this difficult decision, but to him it seemed like if he doesn't choose now, he'd feel the pain everyday.

"AKAASHI! LET'S GO!" Bokuto screams as Akaashi turns his eyes to you in a swift move, finding your eyes covered in tears but how come you looked like you felt nothing? You sniffle as you give him a warm smile, a reaction he didn't want to see knowing it wasn't a smile that could bring him joy.

"Goodluck, Akaashi."

He takes a step forward trying to capture you in his arms but Bokuto grabs him by the arm pulling him away from you, Bokuto saying goodbye to you as well and reminding you the promise you gave him. That moment, all that Akaashi wanted to was run and replace the silence he gave you. You deserved to hear what he truly felt, but his words were trapped as he still had to examine if he was choosing the right ones.

But he ran out of time.

The game starts and he prays for his performance to be at his usual best. Once Bokuto had the setter to himself, Akaashi couldn't hold back and told him what happened. Bokuto felt horrible for both of you, while feeling revengeful to Akemi since he too fell for her sweet gestures to Akaashi thinking that she actually liked him. Importantly, Bokuto badly wanted to be there for you. He knew how much you liked him so for you to confess so suddenly during your argument, it had the grey haired boy worried about you.

He couldn't blame Akaashi, as much as he wanted to. He acted in a way because he was suffering, but they didn't realize they both were. Though, he wished Akaashi could've treated her better, believed her. Bokuto believed her the minute Akaashi told him, and it was because he trusted her completely and she wouldn't speak out without a reason meanwhile Akaashi chose to hold onto denial.

And as they play, Akaashi looks over to the stands, searching for you when he came upon Akemis. The pretty girl with an arm wrapped around her shoulder as Akaashi loses the ball in his hands from the view.

"Akaashi, please listen to me! I don't want you to get hurt..believe me!"

"You said you t-trusted me, Akaashi! How could that change for you!"

Like the ball falling to the floor, his heart went along with it.

Scream. That's what he wanted to do. How absurd of him to get it wrong twice, there shouldn't even be any room for mistakes. I can't believe I lost her..again. Akaashi thinks. There was a painful ache in his heart, yet he couldn't set it free not wanting to let down the team. Especially in a match like this. He wanted to break, to land on the ground and let his consciousness scold him for hours. He deserved it. He should've learned but he was trapped inside a world where he thought Akemi would've been his everything, when he was blind to how powerful his love for you all this time.

Come back to me.

"Akaashi!" Bokutos hand reach his shoulder and all he could do was stare at a pair of blank eyes. Before the ace could ask what happened, Akaashi was clutching on to Bokutos jersey harshly taking the older boy by surprise.

"She was right." Akaashi utters as he points to the crowd making Bokuto squint just to find where Akemi was. Once he finds them, he sighs sadly before trying to come up with a response to cheer the boy up. It was obvious that Akaashi was too affected to perform properly. Lip quivering as if his world was destroyed twice.

"Doesn't that mean the only thing you can come back to is Y/N?"

Akaashi looks up to him, confused. Bokuto patted the boys shoulder with a soft smile.

"Look over there." This time, it was Bokutos turn to point to the other side of the stands to see you glancing over them. Akaashis eyes glimmered at the sight of you, like life was brought to him in an instant. Happiness couldn't be the only word to describe his emotions.

You were watching.

And he was going to win. Just for you.

This brings him a massive wave of energy, not digging into his thoughts. You smile wiping your heavy eyes seeing him back to his usual self. In his heart he was happy but a mistake shouldn't be rewarded by a smile.

Sticking to his promise, they won but an unfamiliar feeling sets in his skin making him stop in his tracks making Bokuto look behind him to see Akaashi with his hand on top of his chest and eyes straight to the floor. Bokuto grips the phone in his hand, biting his lip and looking down, his heart aching as well.

"Bokuto-san, where is she?" His voice cracks, a tear finally escaping his eyes. He lets out a soft sniffle looking everywhere for a trace of you. Bokuto just shakes his head as a response and Akaashis eyes widen as he harshly wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. Written in his lips and eyes, Akaashi was exhausted. At first, he thought that letting go of his emotions would be the answer but now he was letting them free yet he didn't wanna scream anymore. He already felt his throat dry at the realization.

"Doesn't that mean the only thing you can come back to is Y/N?"

You sank in your seat, numb to how wet your cheeks were from the continous flow of your tears. Your chest was heaving up and down but your eyes were already closed with tight lips pressed into a line. There were certain things you wish you could've done, but staying wasn't an option when you've gone through multiple battles already. This was the last straw.

Even if you did wanted to fight for him, would he do the same?

You let out a sigh as you open your eyes seeing the road and reminiscing on your last walk with Akaashi.

"What's her name again?" You ask, kicking a rock to the side before shoving your hands inside the pocket of your blazer. Akaashi smiles out of bliss at the thought of her smile and once you've got a glimpse of his expression, you question the drop in your heartbeat as you see him blush before fidgeting with his fingers.

"Akemi." He says, his heart beating loudly. Saying her name already brought the setter in touch with his emotions. It was unlikely for him to feel his heart flutter, but being around Akemi brought him to smile whenever she was there, get anxious to respond to her, and get a flush on his cheeks at the thought of her moments with him.

The name rings in your ears as you were greeted by the silencing beat of your heart. You watch as he turns to you since you've trailed behind him. You visualize how you've seen him with Akemi during lunch and that's when you knew.

It's never going to be me, is it?

"Let's go, Bokuto-san." Bokuto bit his lip, waiting for you to go to them and proving him it was all a prank.

"Akaashi-"

"She left already and I-" His voice breaks making Bokuto gaze at him in pain.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make her stay, Akaashi." Bokuto whispers. Akaashi drags his sleeve to his eyes again, hating how his eyes grew heavy with the tears that escaped his sorrowful blue ones. With a tragic wound embedded in his heart, he spoke.

"I couldn't either."

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#akaashi keiji #akaashi angst #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi x you #bokuto x reader #hinata shouyou #nishinoya x reader #sugawara x y/n #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #hinata x reader #akaashi x reader #hq akaashi

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lovenona · 4 years

Text

– two slow dancers; part of the artist!sukuna cinematic universe

(contains: hurt/comfort, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, and character death)

it’s snowing, you notice. a white blanket floats down from the heavens in a peaceful silence, enveloping the earth in a cold, wet hug. you have never loved the snow, sure – but when it looks like this, slow and pure in the glow of a lone streetlamp, you admit that there is a certain joy in feeling like the main character in a dramatic winter film.

you’re not alone in your little film, either – you notice a familiar figure poised just outside the light of the streetlamp, back turned to you. he shivers slightly, because, like always, he isn’t dressed for the weather. (it’ll ruin my aesthetic, he always tells you, as if winter coats and doc martens are mutually exclusive.) your best friend choso has always been one for visual presentation. he would never sacrifice fashion for comfort; that’s just who he is.

you know this better than anyone, because it is you that choso makes late for class when he borrows your eyeliner in a frenzy to spruce up the signature black line painted across his nose. (it’s fashion, he says. how else will i stand out in this shithole school?)

you don’t know quite what he’s staring at: there’s nothing particularly interesting in front of you, and the only people left on campus at this hour are professors heading home to their families, tummies rumbling, and the stray students heading to and from the library, heads bowed under stress. the rest of the university left early to avoid the current snowstorm that will most definitely threaten your commute home. you, of course, had tried your hardest to leave sooner to avoid such an inconveniencing mess, but a certain tattoo-covered art student had successfully held you captive in an empty art classroom for far longer than expected.

(you are glad that it is dark out and that your winter coat has a high neckline.)

“choso?” you call out, wading through the snow as you approach him gently. he remains still, like a porcelain statue, as if his soul had abandoned his body and left only a hollow shell behind. snow gathers like little microscopic diamonds on his dark hair, and, in a very un-choso-like fashion, he does not even attempt to brush them away.

“choso? it’s me,” you try again. you’re close enough now that you place a tentative mitten on his shoulder, brushing away the faint layer of snow settled there. he shivers under your touch, says nothing. you look down; your shoes (his doc martens, your doc martens – you’re humanities students, after all) sit buried beneath a quickly thickening blanket.

the snow floats down; it’s still, silent, as if you and him were the only two people in the entire world.

while choso appears to be watching the falling crystals, his gaze seeks something farther away, something distant and inaccessible to you. although he’s never been the most expressive person, you can’t help but feel a certain vacancy radiating from his form. the lights are flickering; no one’s home. you grip him tighter, as if the force of your affections will return him to himself, as if he has simply forgotten what it is to be and needs only a gentle reminder.

for an indefinite stretch of time, you both say nothing – it’s just you holding his shoulder and him watching the snow. it’s hard and fast, now; you can barely see anything beyond your own feet and the outline of the lone streetlamp. you’ve exited reality and entered a timeless place, a wordless place that exists suspended somewhere between here and there. you forget to feel the cold.

“they loved the snow,” choso finally says, so quietly you wonder if you imagined it. “they never looked like it, but they were always begging to go sledding. we would go to this big hill behind our house.”

you’re silent. choso never willingly mentions his two younger brothers, at least not while sober. you learned after a serious heart-to-heart with him your freshman year that they were murdered and that choso never really recovered from it. you’ve seen their photographs in his apartment: three boys, completely unalike in appearance and stature, posed in the youthful awkwardness of holiday greeting cards. three boys smiling together on choso’s middle school graduation. three boys playing board games, going hiking, holding up their christmas gifts with innocent grins. they were killed in a hit and run the night of his high school graduation, he’d told you, six shots in and barely standing on his feet.

his brothers were everything to him. and the choso you know now, the choso you pull all-nighters with and share greasy fries with and have stress meltdowns during finals with, you know that this choso is only an echo of what he could have been. you know that this choso is perpetually lonely, that he’s hurting a hurt that will haunt him like a chronic ache for the rest of his life. i tried to end it, he told you the night you both got your shit rocked at a house party and he threw up in his bathtub for an hour. i just hated being alone, he admitted, and then he was crying. why am i alone?

(you’re not alone, you’d said, holding his head in your hands like a baby bird. not anymore, not while i'm here.)

he’s not crying now, but there’s a look in his eye, a tone in his voice, that suggests he will shatter at any moment. so you do what you know best, what you always do; you hug him, tightly, because if you let go he’ll crumble to dust and you’ll be lost forever.

you must be a vision, you think, a vision of the beautiful couple embracing in the christmas romantic comedy, if a romantic comedy included two best friends and an emotional meltdown.

he shudders against you; you know he’s crying, it’s inevitable. your mittens rub his back in circles, you press yourself closer and closer as if you could enter his body yourself and steal all of the sadness away. he returns the gesture almost immediately, begging you silently for something that cannot be articulated in human language. he buries his head in your neck like a bird in the sand, and you wait patiently as he takes what comfort he needs.

“i miss them,” he tells you, and his words are choked.

“i know,” you respond. “and that’s okay.”

snow falls, timeless: gathered at your boots, suspended in the air, it defies gravitational laws, floating silently around the only two people in the universe.

“thank you,” choso mumbles after a thousand years, finally, voice steadier this time. he sniffles pitifully. “thank you for being here.”

you hug him just that much tighter, rubbing a mitten through his hair to shake the snow away. “i’m not going anywhere,” you tell him softly, and you mean it. “now, let’s go to my place. you’re soaking wet and i don’t want you to get sick.”

choso obliges, clumsily wiping away his tears and snot, pulling away from your hug with the reluctance of a child who does not want the holidays to end. his eyes are red, and his eyeliner wobbly, and his cheeks flushed with emotion. but he looks calmer, now, as if his soul has taken up residence in his body again and is ready to be alive once more.

and so you move forth, two lone souls together against the universe. you jostle shoulders, stomping through the thick white blanket at your feet, speaking the language of two dancers who know everything without having to say it out loud. together you reach the subway station, step out of the snow, and allow yourselves to be pulled into reality and the movement of the world at large.

as you reach for your subway pass, choso clears his throat, and you look to him expectantly.

“can i borrow your eyeliner when we get to yours? my nose is smudged.”

#this is for my baby choso because gege be doing him so DIRTY #he deserves a fucking hug #and a kiss #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #adele writes #artist!jjk #choso.

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sweetpeasgirl · 4 years

Text

Treat You Better | Sweet Pea

Description: Based on the song “Treat You Better” by Shawn Mendes, Jughead and Y/n’s relationship is at it’s bittersweet end and Sweet Pea, her best friend, is there to defend her

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings: Kinda angsty but not really

Tags: Angst, FLUFF

The White Wrym is not where you thought you would spend your Saturday night but Jughead had said that he needed to take care of a few things and you didn't want to be blown off again. You understand that he's busy, you really do. He's the son of the former Serpent leader; of course he's going to have a lot more on his plate. You just didn't think he'd push you off of it- the plate.

Sweet Pea had warned you about that. It was the latest topic of argument between you. For best friends, the two of you fight a lot. You know he's just trying to look out for you, that's been his role since the two of you were kids. He's in the grade above you, and was originally your older brother's friend, but they fell out a couple years ago. He never left you though.

He's always been the one watching your back. At first he just kept you out of harm's way, whether that be from grade school bullies or the men who lurk in alleyways when you're trying to walk home. Now, though, he has to watch out for boys who say they care about you but don't. He has to watch out for heartbreak.

That's where Jughead comes in. Sweet Pea is just being his overprotective self, like usual. Sure, you've had your fair share of walking out into the busy street with your head down, and he's had to pull you back quite a few times, but this is different. He can't save a heart that's supposed to break. Jughead does care about you, or at least he did when you first got together last year. Some things, however, just aren't meant to last forever.

Forever is a long time and time has a funny way of changing things.

"Juggie, it's your turn," your voice is quiet as you hand him the wooden pool cue, trying not to draw attention to yourself.

It's cold in the bar and you had been alerted so suddenly that date night was getting moved here that you didn't have time to grab a sweater. You can feel the stares burning into uncovered shoulders. It puts you on edge as Jughead accepts the cue from your shaky hands and takes his shot absentmindedly. Something's going on in his head, you can tell by the way he furrows his eyebrows and watches the people around him.

You, meanwhile, are trying hard not to look anywhere but the green felt of the pool table. There's commotion all around you. Shouts can be heard from the bar and the sound of smashing bottles that accompanies them. There's laughter coming from somewhere else but it doesn't sound friendly. Whatever it's about is cruel; it’s something that should not be made a joke of.

You're definitely way out of your comfort zone. Hell, you're way out of your un-comfort zone. You're just plain scared and, with the lack of conversation that Jughead is providing, the regret is bubbling quick in your chest. You almost wish he would just break up with you so you can cry and move on already.

"Jughead," a loud voice breaks the awkward silence around the crowded pool table, "there you are boy. We can finally discuss what you wanted to talk about now."

A tall, middle aged man with light brown hair and a weeks worth of beard growth pats your boyfriend on the back. Jughead shoots you an apologetic look as he passes the pool cue back to you once more. Your blood runs cold as he starts to walk in the opposite direction with the newcomer. He's seriously leaving you alone, in a room full of people who honestly aren't the safest characters, on what was supposed to be your night. Something happened to the boy you first knew and this just settled what you already thought. It’s over.

Your eyes blur with unshed tears at the hurt and fear circulating through your veins. He disappears from sight and the dark atmosphere gets hazier as you grip the side of the table to keep yourself steady. You can once again feel the stares burning into your back. It's like they were waiting for you to be left unattended. When you're with Jughead, the heir of the Serpent crown, you can't be touched. When you're with Sweet Pea, their deadly warrior, you can't be touched. When it's just you, though, anything goes.

You don't know what to do. It's only a matter of time before someone approaches you and when that happens you'll be in a situation that you probably won't be able to get yourself out of. That's the one thing your mother always told not to do; never put yourself into a situation that you can't get out of. Sweet Pea would not be happy.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing here?"

Case in point. You jump at the sound of his voice but spin around instantly and bury yourself into his chest nonetheless. The tears fall down your face before you can stop them but you really couldn't care less. The smell of leather and pine surrounds you and warmth finally fills your body. Apparently you're colder than you had originally thought.

The relief that fills you is unmeasurable and you cling to Sweet Pea tightly, "It was supposed to be our night but-” you hiccup, tugging on his jacket- “I didn't want to miss another date night-” another hiccup- “I didn't want to-” you rub your forehead against his chest, your voice now just a whisper- “he left."

Your thoughts come out scrambled and between ugly sobs but it's enough for Sweet Pea to gather the overall picture of what happened. After all, he has been doing this for a while. He tightens his arms around you, the anger radiating off his uncovered skin in heated waves.

"He left you? Here?" Sweet Pea is seething when he pulls back.

He lifts you to sit on the edge of the pool table, the game laying discarded behind you. The visual reminder only makes the tears come faster and the warmth leave your bones again. You start shivering but this time you can't steel yourself enough to stop, the realization dawning before you can lie to yourself again. You and Jughead are done. You have been for a long time now and everyone else saw it before you did.

"Pea, we're over," you can't raise your voice above a harsh whisper, covering your raw face with your hands to suffocate the onslaught of cries you can feel bubbling to the surface, "we're over now. You were right."

You close your eyes to avoid staring into Sweet Pea's murderous chocolate ones. All you feel now is the ice circling your veins.

"Baby, hey," a large jacket that smells too much like Sweet Pea to not belong to him is draped over your shoulders, "it's okay. We'll go home."

The anger seeps out of his voice and you peer up to see the concerned face of your best friend once more. He's looking at you in the same way he was the time fell out of Jughead's tree house. You had blacked out from the fall and woke up in the hospital with a broken leg. He was so scared that he didn't leave your side for a minute. But it's different now, you're not physically hurt, so he shouldn't look worried.

You let out a sorrowful breath and just nod your head, a deep weariness settling over your being. At least you're getting what you had wanted. A clean break.

"Y/n, can we talk?"

You hadn't noticed Jughead come back but now he stands a little behind Sweet Pea who is still in front of you. Sweet Pea instantly turns at the sound of his voice, the rage back and in full swing. You just lower your head, too tired to keep it up.

"Jones you're so lucky I'm not beating the crap out of you right now. I didn't think you were stupid enough to leave her here but I guess I was wrong! You're just lucky I happened to be here. And that she doesn't hate you." Sweet Pea spits his words at Jughead

"Look, man, can I just talk to my girlfriend?" Jughead's voice is monotone, both of you knowing he's just calling you his so that he can officially end it once and for all.

It's for the best and you both know it. His phrasing, however, doesn't go over well with Sweet Pea.

"Are you serious right now? Or is this a sick joke? You forfeit that title when you left her as free game for anyone in this place,” Sweet Pea steps towards him and you hold your breath, knowing quite well who would win the fight if one were to ensue. “You're dating the most beautiful girl in this shitty town and you treat her like she doesn't even matter! If it was me she wouldn't be crying on a damn table, she would know damn well just how much I love her!"

Your head snaps up at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. The commotion of the bar is drowned out around you and all you can see is Sweet Pea's back. He can't really love you, can he? He's just making a point, being the best friend he always has been. The logic makes sense to you but you can feel your heart breaking for the second time tonight because of it.

You place a hand on Sweet Pea's shoulder, drawing his attention back to you, "it's okay Pea, I should talk to him at least."

He doesn't look happy but he nods, helping you off the table and moving to the side to let you pass. You look at Jughead and toss him a melancholy smile. It's wrapped with bittersweet memories from all your late night's at Pop's and early mornings coming back from the drive-in. Jughead and you had some pretty good times despite your inevitable end. Maybe, just maybe, though, you can make it a peaceful end.

"Y/n I do love you," Jughead takes his beanie off and runs his hand through his already messy, raven locks, "but not like I did before. Somewhere between moving here and, well, taking on the role of my dad I let us fall apart. I'm sorry."

"It's okay Juggie. I probably wasn't putting as much effort in as I could have," he scoffs at that, a guilty smirk on his face.

You both know that you gave this relationship your all. But, standing here now with Sweet Pea's eyes searing into your back, it's pretty clear that your heart was forming attachments with another person. Which means that sooner or later you and Jughead would have fallen apart anyway. Sometimes these kinds of things are no one's fault. It's a mutual heartbreak and when it needs to happen, it needs to happen.

"You know, y/n, I don't feel too bad about losing you to him."

You furrow your brows at his comment, your voice cracking slightly when you speak, "what do you mean? He was just saying all that stuff. Pea doesn't love me."

Jughead rolls his eyes and glances quickly at Sweet Pea before walking closer to you. You can tell he doesn't want him to hear what he's about to say.

"Y/n that boy is in over his head. It's a feeling I can relate very much to but listen to me," his eyes capture yours in a serious stare, "he's going to treat you better than I ever could. He's not going to leave you in dangerous situations or bail on plans. Can't you see he'd take a bullet for you?"

Your heart races at his words and you spare a glance at Sweet Pea. He's already looking at you, the worry back in his mesmerizing eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you, pulling a smile to your lips. Maybe Jughead is right. Maybe you love Sweet Pea as more than a best friend.

Looking at him now, his tanned skin glowing under the dim lights and his dark brown hair pushed behind his ears, there's no doubt in your mind that you're attracted to him. Sweet Pea has always looked handsome in your eyes, even after a fight with purple bruises staining his face. You think back to all the times he's been there when you needed him most. That boy drops whatever he's doing when you call; no matter if you're just bored or looking for someone to nap next to he’s there next to you. You've always felt at home when you're with him. Hell, you have a drawer in his room devoted to your clothes.

Sweet Pea loves you and you're pretty damn sure that you love him too.

Turning back to Jughead, you nod your head, "I'd take one for him too."

"Good. I think I'll leave now. Thanks for everything, y/n," Jughead pulls you into one last hug before heading out the door.

You pull Sweet Pea's jacket tighter around you as you walk back towards him. He gathers you once more into his chest and you let the last of your tears fall. There will never be a time when parting isn't such sweet sorrow. It's the beginning of something new but also the end of something that you once thrived on. However, wrapped completely in Sweet Pea's scent, you've never felt like you belonged somewhere so much.

"Ready to go home baby?"

"Yeah Pea. Let's go home."

#Sweet Pea #sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #sweet pea imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagine #jughead jones #riverdale series #reader insert

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bipercabeth · 4 years

Note

hi miss emmaaa you know i adore every single word you write—you are simply unparalleled😌. if you have time “i need a hug”, “i have an idea”, and “it’s freezing in here” for the prompt cocktail please :)🤍

i swear i could KISS you for this prompt. i’ve been kicking myself for not writing an “our shitty radiator is broken oh no we have to huddle for warmth” scene for roommates for months. didn’t fit in the fic itself, so here it is <3

(takes place between new year’s and the blowup with sloan)

Annabeth tugs yet another sweatshirt over her head and throws herself back into bed. Stupid fucking radiator. Stupid landlord. Stupid New York City for being so stupidly cold. Despite the heavy comforter, fuzzy socks, and layered clothes, she’s still shivering. For a brief moment, she considers bundling up in Percy’s bed—if only to escape the cold creeping in from her window—when she hears the unmistakable jingle of his keys in the lock.

She throws peels off the covers and winces as the air bites at her exposed skin. With her hands shoved in her pockets, Annabeth trudges to the kitchen where Percy shuffles around with groceries. He’s as gorgeous today as ever, sporting a coat over a blue sweater his mom knitted him and the usual jeans and sneakers. It shouldn’t be enough with how cold it is outside, but he appears infuriatingly unbothered.

“God, it’s freezing in here,” he says in way of greeting. His voice echoes in the cabinet as he puts away cans of soup, taking full advantage of his long limbs to reach the top shelf. Then he turns, and his grimace becomes something softer, bringing just a bit of warmth into the apartment. His eyes flit over Annabeth’s lumpy frame with a gleam. “But I’m guessing you knew that.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re one of the most obnoxious New Yorkers I’ve ever met?”

Percy smiles and reaches for something on the table. “Even when I walk four blocks out of my way to grab you hot chocolate from the best truck in town? You should appreciate my pretentiousness, Annabeth. I could’ve picked up that watered down monstrosity you sell at Starbucks.”

“Have I mentioned that you’re also my best friend and the light of my life?” Annabeth reaches for the cup, her pulse throbbing in her freezing fingers.

A rueful smile spreads over Percy’s face as he raises the cup out of her reach. “I’m sorry, am I obnoxious or the light of your life?”

“Light of my life,” she grunts as she presses onto her toes.

“Do try to sound more convincing.”

She lays her hand on his chest. “Percy Jackson, you are the light of my life and the best person I know. You have brought the elixir of the gods into our humble home. Please save me and my old bones from the cold that has descended upon—”

Percy laughs and shoves the cup at Annabeth. Warmth floods her hand, both from the drink and the brush of his skin. “Better?”

Her response comes in the way of gulping the hot chocolate. It’s meant to be savored, obviously, but Annabeth has been too cold to do much of anything today, and her body just kind of takes over and downs it.

Horror is written all over Percy’s face when she finishes mere moments later. “Oh my god, you’re a monster.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Then why are you smiling?” she counters. And it’s true—there’s an endeared uptick to the corner of his mouth, even if it’s currently open in dismay. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, I—” He shakes his head a little. “Just. Your nose is pink. How long ago did the radiator give up on you?”

“Right after you left this morning.”

Percy’s eyes dart to where the city lights twinkle against the night sky, almost like stars. Annabeth watches him count the hours in his head before he unbuttons his coat. “C’mere.”

All too eager, Annabeth knocks into his chest and sighs when he brings the coat tight around her shoulders like the best burrito. Her arms snake around his waist and slip under his sweater, relentlessly seeking warmth.

He jolts like she’s shocked him, pressing away from her hands and closer to her body. It’s a win-win, really.

“You’re a monster,” he hisses.

She hides her smile in the sweater. “What? I need a hug.”

“I will kill you in your sleep.”

In way of retaliation, she shoves her icy nose into his neck.

“Okay!” Percy frees himself of her iron grip. “I have a better idea.”

He palms her face, smushing her nose with a laugh that’s a bit too smug for Annabeth’s liking. She smacks away his hand, but he catches the strings of her hoodie and pulls them tight, trapping her in darkness. Normally this would mean war, but it’s been a long day. Loneliness seeped into Annabeth’s bones alongside the cold, as is the cruel trick of winter, and she finds that all she really wants it to be held. Of course, this only serves as a reminder that she cannot be held by the one person she wants in that capacity, which is worsened by the fact that he is right in front of her and willing to do it if she asks the right way.

Ever intuitive, Percy’s smile gives way to a concerned frown, the one that makes Annabeth want to roll her eyes and kiss him at the same time. Still, it takes no thought to slip their hands together when he offers.

Warmth immediately envelopes Annabeth’s fingers, traveling up her nerves lazily. Its pace quickens when Percy raises them to his mouth, his lips pressed against her pinky and ring fingers as he blows hot air. Annabeth hums, somehow both content and absolutely on fire. At least her face was already red.

Later Percy has changed into comfier clothes and lounges on the couch, one leg thrown over the back while Annabeth balls up under a blanket on the other side. One of his arms is behind his head, dragging the sweater away from the waistline of his sweatpants. It’s ridiculous, honestly, that Annabeth can see him in a speedo for three days straight and survive, but this sliver of skin undoes her. Maybe it’s the intimacy of being at home. There is no crowd, no frigid metal bleachers, and Annabeth isn’t sitting next to Percy’s mom while trying to hide her oogling. There is only the soft cushion of the couch and the warmth emanating from Percy, who is close enough to touch.

God, she wants to touch.

He clears his throat. “So are you proving a point by freezing alone, or are you gonna come over here?”

Annabeth wrenches her gaze up to meet Percy’s, which is alight with the kind of amusement that makes this whole thing feel like a game to see who will break first. It’s the closest they come to acknowledging this unspoken thing between them.

All she can do is stare until Percy holds out his hand. She doesn’t know what assumptions he makes, but he makes no move to embarrass her, so they must be kind. Instead he coaxes her across the couch, laying back and smiling when Annabeth knocks the air out of his chest.

He pulls the blanket up her back and anchors it with his arm. “Better?”

Annabeth thaws enough to nod against his sweater. “Better.”

Percy slips his hand under Annabeth’s hood and settles it in the curve of her neck, his fingertips drawing small circles against her scalp. It hurts, how well he fits there. He feels made for all of her empty spaces, like the universe knew Annabeth would someday need to be held this way and crafted Percy specifically for it.

For now, he keeps the lonely grip of winter at bay. And for once in her life, Annabeth is not thinking about how cold it will be when he lets go. Letting go doesn’t even cross her mind.

#no editing we die like men #thank u for this prompt it is so extremely up my alley #not wildly proud of this but the second to last paragraph? slaps #drabbles #pjo fics #my fic #my percabeth #and they were roommates #iris messages #connabeth

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sunshineandaisies · 3 years

Text

Bliss

Part Eleven of the Neighborly Affection Series

Words: 897

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Modern AU)

Warnings: fluffy goodness, sexual suggestions

Note: So if you recognize this from like 4-5 years ago, it’s because this is a repost from my old account (caps-best-girl) that I’ve since deactivated. There are 12 parts to this in total that I’ll be editing and reposting throughout the week.

It wasn’t sunlight streaming through your window that woke you up the following morning. No, instead it was the feather light kisses that ghosted over the skin of your bare shoulder, the fingertips dancing across the naked skin of your lower back, and the warm breath that fanned over your face. When your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on the steel blue eyes staring back at you, James whispered, “Morning, doll.”

You smiled at him and stretched, feeling the soreness in your muscles that reminded you of last night’s activities. “Morning,” you replied groggily, curling into his side. You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body. “You’re a lot more comfortable than you look,” you commented.

He laughed, his chest reverberating beneath you. “I guess both of us are just full of surprises then.”

You looked up at him, brows knitted together in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grinned at you and said, “For someone who acts shy and flustered all the time, you’re pretty damn demanding in bed.” You pressed your face into the pillow, hiding your flustered expression from his view. “See! That right there! You definitely weren’t doing any of that last night.”

You frowned and sat up, holding the sheets to your chest. “Don’t lie to yourself, James. You liked seeing that side of me.”

“Oh, I liked seeing every side of you last night,” he teased with a smirk, hand trailing down the expanse of your bare back before he pulled you on top of him. “What do you say we go for round two?”

“Pretty sure we went for round two last night,” you deadpanned, your knees going to either side of his body. You leaned forward and pressed a trail of kisses up his chest and neck and jaw until you pressed one below his ear, whispering, “And three.” Another kiss. “And four.”

He turned his head, capturing your lips with his and biting down on your lower lip playfully. “Round five then?” he whispered against your lips as his curled into a smile.

You sat back, making him groan at the movement, and joked, “You’re insatiable.”

He grinned, gripping your hips. “You know it, doll.” He sat up and pressed a myriad of kisses to your shoulders, neck, and jaw, but you sat motionless, caught in your thoughts. He pulled back after a moment, noticing your hesitation. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You still had so many questions for him, and you wanted to have answers to those questions before you…before you what? Fell in love with him? Looking at him, you were sure you were already too deep to save yourself. You loved him, and you probably had for a lot longer than you were willing to admit. “I just…you said that Nat wasn’t your girlfriend last night.”

He nodded. “I did.”

“Then who is she?”

“Is someone jealous?” he teased, fingers pinching playfully at your side.

You swatted his hands away and scowled. “I’m being serious right now, James. I don’t…I like you. A lot. And I don’t want to have to compete with someone else. If there is someone else, tell me now so I can…” You paused unsure of exactly what you would do if there really was someone else. “Just let me know, James. I don’t want to play anymore games with you.”

“No games, doll,” he agreed. “Nat’s one of my best friends. She’d probably laugh in your face if she heard you calling her my girlfriend last night.” His hand slid upwards on your body, from you hip to your waist, squeezing gently. “Her job has her running all over the country, so when she’s in the area for a day, she stays with me. Any break longer than a few days, she goes home. To her husband.”

That surprised you, and the way your body jolted back at the information made James chuckle. “She’s married?”

“Yes, she is. So you don’t have to worry about her or any other girls. You’re the only girl for me, doll.” He pulled you against his body, your chests flush against one another, as he pressed a searing kiss to you lips. “I don’t know what the hell you did to me, but I can’t get you off my mind, Y/N.”

You smiled before pressing yourself completely against him until his back hit the mattress and your lips latched onto his. His hands curled around your body to rest against your lower back, holding you tightly to him as if you would slip away if you were given the chance. Your heart beating faster than it had ever before, you rested your forehead against his and your eyes fluttered shut, finally admitting, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Doll, I think a part of me has been in love with you since the day you dropped your panties at my feet,” he replied with a grin stretching from ear to ear before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He flipped you over and pressed sloppy kisses to your neck and chest, making you giggle. “God, I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”

You laughed uncomfortably and pushed him away from you by the shoulders. “Yeah, about that…” You smiled apologetically at him. “My lease is up in a few months. We won’t be neighbors for much longer.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #marvel modern au #marvel reader insert #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #neighborly affection series

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humanitysburrito · 4 years

Text

𖥸 - delirium

𑁤 SUMMARY; you and dabi reminisce on your friendship while you bleed out in his arms ᨟ PAIRING; f!reader x dabi ᨟ WARNINGS; 18+! smut, light bondage, angst, death, blood and wounds, language, outta char dabi? lol idc, dabi is toya todoroki ᨟ WC; 5k

authors note; this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written. I hope I wrote the whole y/n thing correctly. I debated on how to format the memories and reader quirk, and figured this looked and felt best. This originally was gonna be nothing but smut, but I do love me some sads. Comments are hella appreciated! Practice makes perfect and I will trust the process! (i put together the gif so you can pair it with the end uWu)

Wrong place, wrong time. There simply was no other way to put it. Seeking out Dabi while he was working had always been a dangerous game to play, but neither of you took the time to consider the possibility of friendly fire being your checkmate.

You found yourself stumbling through a vacant alleyway, praying to a higher power - if it existed - that Dabi was able to hear your pleas through the thick of the chaos. Your vision fuzzed into white cotton, prompting you to squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to clear the fog.

When you opened your eyes again, you threw your arms out towards your scarred lover, who was desperately sprinting towards you.

This was the first moment the word ‘love’ ever crossed your mind. The feelings you’ve had for Dabi over the past few years, especially in the last couple of months, have been ambivalent, to say the least. But right now, all you knew was him. All you could see was him. The nearly angelic image of his blue flames fanning out behind him - his tattered coat swaying in the wind. His body language was your gospel, and you were his resolve.

Your best friend.

Damn, you thought.

“Shit! Dabi..” Your fading voice trailed off into a light whisper as your ankles cracked underneath your weight. “I’m sorry.”

You could do nothing but apply pressure around the gaping, shredded hole that tore clear through your stomach. A dumpster broke your fall, and your body slid down to rest in a pool of your own blood.

Your quirk did little to restrain the Nomu that had charged in your direction just minutes earlier. Instead, it absorbed your power and released it instantaneously - piercing it right through you.

Blood oozed from your wound as you erupted into a fit of strained laughter.

Oh, how stupid must I look?

“I’m going out because of my own quirk! How anticlimactic!” Your words came out in a pitiful squeak absolutely littered with sarcasm as the remaining adrenaline in your body faded away.

What felt like a lifetime for you were mere seconds for Dabi as he reached for you, tripping over his feet before sitting down to pull your back flush against his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. One of his palms rested along the side of your neck while the other cupped the side of your face in a vice grip.

“Shut up, y/n. You’re gonna be fine, yeah? Just breathe, doll.”

His heart was hammering wildly through his system despite his attempts to calm down and cool his body off. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, gently rubbing circles on the back your scalp - his first instinct to do whatever he could to make you comfortable.

“Don’t put me in limbo,” you said through gritted teeth as blood seeped out of your mouth. Dabi brought his legs around to hook over yours - similar to the way you two just started to cuddle. “We both know how this is going to end.”

And the both of you did. You’d be stupid not to, and Dabi knew that. He would enjoy this much more if you were a pro hero he could sadistically taunt as your life swayed in the balance. But you weren’t.

It would be easier if you were a comrade who unfortunately took a hit, who would go down forgotten and quickly replaced among the ranks. But you weren’t.

Right now, he wished you were anyone else.

“Quit talking like you’re gonna die, y/n!” He yelled into your skin as he erupted into a vicious cycle of shakes.

How the fuck did it come to this, what the fuck! His turquoise eyes strained forward, pulsing, and burning due to the tears he was unable to produce.

Dabi’s voice was laced with sorrow and regret. You had only heard it one other time, and the realization was the tipping point for you to finally cry. Salty water poured down your face as your mind began to cycle through the memories you’ve made with him.

Sweat pooled on your forehead as you drew closer to the man that was hunched over on the curb of your dirt driveway.

Through the darkness, you could see that he was covered in blood - all the way down his face and chest. Shiny, sharp pieces of metal sticking out from his skin glistened under the moonlight, and although you were still at least twelve feet away, the heat radiating off of him was enough to instantly make your clothes stick to your flesh.

As quiet as you tried to be with your movements, you were careless enough to kick some rocks up under your feet, earning you an icy glare from the man before you.

With one quick movement of his hand, ethereal blue flames roared from his palm in your direction but quickly dissipated into steam as he groaned into a state of incoherence and irrationality - the effects of your quirk.

You rose your hand, beckoning rusty chains to come forth from the earth and bind around him. He looked at you through the bloody strands of his raven hair - his turquoise eyes meeting your (e/c) irises that matched the billowing smoke coming from your quirk. The image in his eyes caused your heart to race. Anger and sorrow were swirling into your soul as he stared at you, but it was overpowered by a desperate plea for help as his eyes became lidded.

“Hell, dollface, you got a second?”

These were the first words Dabi ever spoke to you.

“You should have left me alone, y/n!” Dabi sobbed, leaving light kisses and nips along your ear, gently urging you to keep talking - about anything and everything.

You struggled against him to find a more comfortable position in his arms, shooting a hand up into his scarred flesh. He silently berated himself for letting you help him as much as you did.

Maybe then, he could have lived in a world blissfully unaware of your existence.

He choked on his tongue, his body falling limp against the ground as his aura erupted in a swelling mass of dust as your chains dissolved into the gravel. He passed out - falling face-first into the dirt.

You towered over his unconscious body and reached down, hooking your arms underneath his as you dragged him up your driveway towards your house, keeping him delirious with your quirk just in case he woke up. You brought forth more chains to keep him restrained in the bathroom connected to your garage. The sound of the lights buzzing on was enough to wake him up - snapping his head upright.

You had no choice but to let up on the delirium in an attempt to speak to him. As you knelt down to be level headed, his eyes never stopped following you. “Who are you?”

“You’re the one who has me chained up like a dog! Who the fuck are you?” His voice was strained and horse, exhaustion overpowering his vocal cords.

You raised your (h/c) eyebrows at his question, licking your teeth behind your lips, shaking your head as you stood up and pushed the bathroom door wide open. There was a clear shot through the garage towards the street you just plucked him off of.

“I’ll let you go then. You can make a run from here.” You calmly said, uninterested at his display of aggression. “If you try anything stupid, I’ll gladly tie you right back up and keep you here.” You looked down at him, your (h/c), (h/type) falling from behind your ear to the side of your face. “But let’s not forget who asked for a second of my time, dollface.”

“I forgot about that,” Dabi chuckled behind you. “Always using my own words against me.” A warm shiver trickled up your body as his breath steadied in your ear. “You know, I was just going to use you for some free food and a piece of ass before I left?”

You whispered, panting for air as a smirk painted your lips. “Did you get more than you bargained for?”

Dabi didn’t respond to you. He only squeezed your face closer into his chest as you felt his body jitter around you.

“So, what’s your name?”

There was a brief moment of silence before he answered your question.

He finally responded when you reached up to lightly dapple the blood away from under his scarred eyes.

“Dabi.”

“Hello, Dabi. My name is y/n. Do you make it a habit of passing out in people's yards?”

“Only the yards of pretty dolls like you.” Even through the blood and dirt and the satire in his voice - you notice the smirk on his face brighter than any other smile you had ever seen before.

You scoffed, blinking your thoughts away. “I’m sure you do, dollface.” His pride took a small hit at your attempts to use his words against him. Before he could respond, you pushed his head back into the bathtub and doused his hair in ice-cold water with your shower head.

“Oh, baby, how’d you know?” He managed to whisper in a moan, his hands clutching at his sides.

You couldn’t deny that this was the most exciting thing to happen to you in quite a while. You made your living by side hustling for heroes and villains - you didn’t care the cause as long as there was something beneficial for you in the long run. This was a wanted, and much-needed change of activity for you - the possible danger in it giving you a euphoric feeling your quirk never could.

“All jokes aside, Dabi, I’m glad I met you. Just being your friend has given me the best few years of my life. My only regret-,” you paused in a scream, the soft motions in his hands begging you to stop talking and save it for later, “-is that it took me this long to realize,” you whispered into the air, gritting your teeth and turning around against him the best you could to look at him. “I love you, you know.” Dabi froze, his arms becoming limp around you as he cradled your body.

His mind raced with every memory he’s ever had of the way you looked at him. The way you touched him, the way you took care of him. The way your fingertips gently worked their magic, repairing his weak constitution when he needed it the most.

You had been friends for a few years, and your relationship took its sweet fucking time to grow. His occasional visits for first aid eventually led to him crashing on your couch, to moving in as your elusive ‘never-home’ roommate. He enjoyed being around you because you weren’t a complete nuisance, and you were someone who chose to stay oblivious of his criminal activities.

The day he found out about your own indictments was when Tomura Shigaraki tried to recruit you one day while he was sipping whiskey at the bar.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I didn’t want to come.” The sound of your sneering voice made his ears perk up, and he shot around his bar seat to lock eyes with you.

Even though you declined Tomura’s offer, you came with your own contribution of intel that had a price. That night, you and Dabi stayed up drinking, chain-smoking, and sharing your thoughts and feelings about Stain’s ideology and the hypocrisy of pro-heroes.

Dabi wasn’t sure when he started to develop strange feelings for you. The three years of your friendship had turned into an intense myriad of passionate, sexual frustration that neither of you wanted to cave on. All he knew is that it was a slow, agonizing burn that eventually reached its termination.

If only you two hadn’t taken so long. If only it hadn’t been just last night.

You both somehow arrived home unscathed during a prep mission you decided to join him on because it had been weeks since you last saw each other. It ended with a massive rush of adrenaline coursing through your bodies - the teasing of who was actually the sidekick in the rare villainous scenarios you involved yourself in in flew out the window, and all you could see were equals as you stared into each other's eyes.

“If we do this, I might not be able to stop.” Dabi’s forehead was pressed against yours, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to your own. His words were coated in a sugary lacquer that rolled off his tongue, seemingly into your own mouth. Tears pooled in the corners of you (e/c) eyes - your mind hazy in a rush of anticipation and fear.

At this moment, you two felt like entirely different people - the exhilaration of a strange encounter filling your bodies with lust and excitement.

You needed him.

He needed you.

Dabi’s hand came around the back of your head and grasped at your hair, finally pushing your lips together for the first time in a cry of passion. Serotonin flooded his brain, his eyes opening halfway at the feeling of being absolutely wasted against your lips.

His mouth was warm - conflicting with his cold personality, but he tasted like cigarettes and cheap-ass whiskey - oh, my, you needed more.

The two of you were completely lost. Unaware of what the next step was as you kissed each other like a couple of love-struck teenagers for what felt like a lifetime.

His other hand eventually snaked up your side and underneath your shirt before palming his hand against the small of your back and pushing your body against him. Your hands reached to cup his face, your tongues dancing in a messy rhythm. You pulled away, saliva stringing and popping against his bottom lip. Dabi softly tilted you backward to rest your body on your couch as he climbed on top of you, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck while the cold steel on his face did little to chill the heat rising in your body.

“Da-bi,” your breath hitched in a moan as he nipped at the skin on your throat, your hands fisting his hair in frustration.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say my name like that, doll.” Dabi purred along your throat. “I’m going to make you say it over and over and over again.” His body slithered up to give you one last kiss before he sat up and removed his white shirt, tossing it over the side of the couch.

Your hands trailed along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his defined muscles and the cold bars on his nipples. He felt just as you thought he would, and the smell of charcoal and cologne brought you to a drunk reality - an indicator that you were not dreaming.

Your hands messily tried to undo the buckle on his belt, but he slapped them away. He reached down to kiss you again, his hands grabbing at your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Dabi looked down, seeing your nipples hardening underneath your bra. He bowed his head, struggling to keep his balance as a strange wave of guilt rushed through him. There was only one thing about you that he absolutely couldn’t stand - that you could make him feel things he’s never felt before.

It had taken three years to get to this point. What the fuck were you doing? The way you looked splayed out underneath him was nearly a forbidden sight.

“Y/n..” His words were lost as his eyes trailed along with your frame - ravenous hunger evident in his glassy orbs.

“No take backs. I have you right where I want you, so let’s finish what we started.” You reached up and pushed him down against you, capturing his lips in another heated kiss, grinding your hips against the twitching bulge in his pants. He felt you smile along his lips, reassuring the nervousness quelling inside his body.

Within seconds he had picked you up and sat down so you could straddle him. His hands caressed your waist and trickled all the way up to your bra that he quickly disposed of. His pierced tongue swirled around your swollen nipples, nibbling and sucking each one as he pushed your hips down harder, encouraging you to grind a little faster.

Your breath became ragged at the friction between your legs - your pussy practically gushing through your clothes and onto his pants. He pushed you away, leaving one hand on your side while the other unzipped your pants and slid a palm inside to rub along your clothed cunt. Your body shuddered as you threw your head back, leaning backwards to continue to grind as he stroked you teasingly. When he could feel your clit begin to swell and bulge out from your lips, he took the opportunity to sneak two fingers past your underwear and push inside you to beckon you towards him at high speed.

The sounds of your wet sex drenching his skin were almost too erotic for him to handle, and he ripped his hand out to bring it up to your face.

“Lick them clean.”

You did as you were told, taking each one of his digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue in a euphoric trance as you tried to replace what was missing between your legs with your own hand. Dabi snatched your wrist and held it against your thigh. “You don’t touch yourself unless I say so, dollface.”

“Yes, Dabi.” You replied, struggling to catch your breath. Dabi’s display of aggression and dominance was something you only dreamed of, and you needed more.

“Now, be a good girl and get on your knees for me?” The way he said it almost made you pass the fuck out - the demanding yet sensitive tone playing with your ears. It was not a question.

Once again, you followed instructions and sat on the floor. You spread his legs and positioned yourself as you unbuttoned his pants, smiling at his struggling erection, trying to spring free.

A gasp escaped from above you as you pulled his cock out, your hand wrapping perfectly around him. He watched you lick your lips with half-lidded eyes and instantly threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue tracing his head, down the underside of his shaft before licking back up and taking him into the back of your throat. He balled his fists into your soft, shiny (h/c) hair at the feeling and pumped ever so slightly to the rhythm you were still trying to find.

“Fuck, y/n.” The affirmation made you suck him deeper into your throat. Your watery eyes and gagging sounds encouraged him to force your nose down into his stubble as he set the pace and fucked into your mouth.

A feeling of white, hot fuzz started to form in his toes and up to his legs at the sight before him, causing him to rip you away from his cock with a ‘pop.’ “Look at you, dollface,” he cooed, smearing your saliva down your chin as you coughed and struggled to catch your breath. “Is this what you think about at night, hmm? Sucking my dick until you can’t breathe?” He teased, pushing his thumb between your lips to hook around your bottom teeth and pull you up with his index finger tightly fastened underneath your chin.

“Among other things,” you whispered before pulling him into another fiery kiss. His hands squeezed your waist, drawing your jeans down to leave you in nothing but your panties.

“Oh, well, if that’s the case, show me what comes next, babydoll,” Dabi growled as he picked you up and carried you off into your bedroom. He threw you on the bed and ripped off the useless, drenched fabric in between your legs.

The gravity of your situation set in. You were now completely naked in front of your best friend, for the very first time. And you sucked his dick. Oh, my god, I sucked his dick! Your face turned bright red in an embarrassing blush, your arms and legs balling up in an attempt to cover yourself.

“Y/n,” Dabi gently stopped you by crawling on top of you and cupping your face in his hands. “Don’t be shy. You have no idea how beautiful I find you, so let me show you, yeah?” He kissed you, this time it lasted longer than any. It felt different. Your heart strummed with a barrage of hot butterflies as his tongue ran across your teeth and pulled away to slither his body down to your dripping wet core.

“Oh, baby, look at this pretty little pussy.” The sight of your dripping wet, swollen cunt made Dabi want to completely ravage you right then and there. He could see you pulsating with need - wetness pouring down your legs. “You want me to do something about this, doll?”

All you could manage to do was moan in agreement as you lifted your head to give him permission to do anything he desired.

Dabi kissed your hips, down your thighs, so very close to giving you what you wanted. Your spine arched, perfectly, he thought.

He took your clit in-between two fingers, squeezing the bundle of nerves before giving you a quick lap with the tip of his tongue. The sound that escaped your lips was honest and excited him to the point of insanity. After a few seconds he lapped you again, using his tongue to toy with your folds before closing his lips around to suck on your engorged clit. You cried out, writhing in a fit of euphoria.

“Dabi! Oh - fuck, right there!” Dabi switched motions and took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it before using the tip of his tongue to relentlessly nick your swollen bud as it pressurized in his mouth. You were so wet that the entire bottom of his face was soaked, dripping down his chin and neck.

“I could devour you all night long, dollface, look at me.” Dabi wrapped his arm around your waist to prevent you from grinding your pussy in his mouth, pushing your body down into the bed. The minute you made eye contact with him, your orgasm skipped a few steps in the building process.

“You lick my pussy so fucking good - Dabi!” He raised his eyebrows at your reaction, and before you could finish in more ways than one, he pulled away, knocking the wind right out of your body while a cold chill crept up your spine.

“You’re gonna what?” Dabi teased as he rid himself of the rest of his clothes and positioned himself in between your legs, using the head of his cock to toy with the wet folds of your pussy before tapping your throbbing clit. You closed your eyes and tensed up, focusing because the rhythm was totally just enough to-

He pulled away, sitting back in satisfaction. You were speechless, your legs trembling in frustration. “I’ll ask you this again, y/n. What comes next?”

You were a shuddering, whimpering, melting mess at his words. The tone of Dabi’s voice was so erotic to your ears - and the way he spoke to you, so demanding, so sexy, you thought, was a way no one had ever spoken to you before. And you wanted more. You needed more.

“Mm,” You moaned, feeling like you were losing yourself to a darkness, and you were going to let it happen. “Touch me - make me yours. Fuck me, kiss me, just don’t stop, please!” He could tell you couldn’t take it anymore but something inside of him wanted to make this so much worse for you, to drag it out as long as possible.

You threw your head back, losing your reflexes to resist touching yourself.

Dabi snickered, leaning down to purr in your ear, pinning your hands above your head. “Be a good doll and beg for it, then.”

His words caused your lascivious desire to take over, and he was pushed back against your headboard, his arms and legs wrapped in the chains of your quirk. The chains snaked around the supports of your bed, leaving his cock wide open to do as you pleased. The delirium accompanied filled Dabi’s head with ecstasy, leaving him fully vulnerable to your advances. You climbed on top of him and sank your pussy down agonizingly slow to get used to his size. He threw his head back, moaning in a way that sent jolts straight to your sopping wet sex. With a wave of your hand, you banished the chains, looking at Dabi, who was clear-minded and perplexed.

“Wow.” Was all he could say as he gripped your hips and rammed up into you. “You wanna tie me up, is that it?” He said through gritted teeth as he kept you still, vigorously pumping into you. “You wanna have it your way, baby? You want me to shut up so you can fuck me like you want it done? Is this how you want it? Ugh, fuck!” Your skin turned red as his cock continued to massage your velvet lining, your liquid splashing with every thrust.

Your arms rose up and twined in your hair, your breasts bouncing in just the right way to drive him absolutely crazy. The room was filled with the wet noises of this long awaited night - the moans coming from both of you fulfilling the carnal desires deep within.

“Dabi, please let me come!”

He sat up, snaking an arm around your waist to throw you backwards. You locked eyes, both of you struggling to breathe, heaving for dear life. “You feel so good, doll, you like that cock, yeah?”

Dabi sat up on his knees, pulling your waist off of the bed so you were flush against him - his cock bottoming out as far as it could go. He used one hand under your back to keep you raised, and his other one to push your chest into the mattress.

He leaned over you for a brief moment to collide in a kiss - the best one of his life. With you. Only you.

You cried out as he fucked you and gave you everything you needed - everything he could think of giving you. Your hands trailed along his chest to keep him against you, wrapping your arms around his scarred neck to beg for more.

Dabi growled at the sensation rising in his body and ripped away from you, using both hands on your hips to viciously fuck into you - giving you pure, relentless, unadulterated ecstasy.

“Come all over my cock, dollface, do it! You know you want to.” Dabi brought his thumb to your clit, softly rubbing in wide, fast circles. The stimulation inside was matching perfectly with what he was offering your clit, filling your body with something deep and intense.

Dabi’s eyes widened at the feeling of constant streams of wetness, coating his cock and running down his legs. He smirked. “That’s it, y/n, you have permission.” Dabi, nearing his own release, started to shake and bite his lip. “You’re making such a fucking mess!” He growled and threw his head backward, his vision becoming hazy as he rolled his head on his shoulders.

“Da-bi, Dabi!” You screamed out in a lustful moan that was like candy to his ears.

“Yes, that’s it, say my fucking name!”

“I’m gonna cum-ah! Dabi!”

The sight before him was absolutely gorgeous - you - body flushed, drenched in sweat, writhing in rapture as your body exploded into a blended orgasm, your squirting pussy gripping him as you tried to milk him of his own release. But he was so focused on you that he delayed his own orgasm until you were at your tail end. Your body shuddered as he came inside of you, squeaking at the feeling of your pussy being filled with his warmth.

“Y/n,” Dabi moaned, leaning down to pull you in a warm embrace. Your fingers ran through his hair as he salted your neck and cheek with wet kisses and whispers of praise in your ear. “I could get used to this,” he softly growled into your ear, laying on his side to spoon you into him.

The lust and euphoria began to fade, and you two were left to cope with the left over feelings of what transpired. You rolled over, Dabi softly brushing the hair out of your face. This soft side of him was something you never thought he had in him and you wanted to cherish every second of it - not ruin it with a slew of unspoken questions and feelings. Instead, the two of you softly, and passionately kissed yourselves into an accidental sleep.

Both of you wished that you had stayed home to live another night like it. To feel your body cradled close to him - for both of you to experience more of what you had been putting off for so long.

“Keep going, y/n.” He urged you when you hadn’t said anything else, squeezing your shoulder with his arm.

But you were unable to speak anymore. The only sounds escaping were cracked whimpers.

He reached his head down in front of your face, a soft smile forming in the corner of your lips as your beautiful life left your eyes - your arms dropping to your sides as he gave you his final kiss. “I love you, doll.”

Those were the last words Dabi said to you.

He picked your body up and ran towards the little secluded place in the woods that he had learned to call home, and he filled the gap of your conversation with dozens of memories as if you were merely asleep in his arms. When he couldn’t physically go any further, he laid your body on the ground, and set every tree in sight ablaze before getting back to his task at hand.

He had to push you into the back of his mind along with the people he chose to forget about. With you, he had no choice but to forget. Another page torn from the story he was living. He put the walls he let you tear down back up, this time, forever.

Ultimately, he would never forget you. You gave him the first happy experience he’ll ever have, and with every move he continues to make, you will always play a part in them. No matter how hard he tries to forget.

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professorsnape394 · 4 years

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The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Fifteen: Three Professors

A/N: This is the fifteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2001

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Within the week the gossiping from the weekend's events had almost completely died down. However, with Severus and Aria acting civil towards one another during lessons, and almost completely back to their old habits of spending the evening together a whole new set of rumours were threatening to begin.

Karkaroff had mostly backed off Aria's case on the Severus front. However, this did not mean he had any intention of stopping socialising with her any chance he got. Igor had become invested in the relationship of the two potions professors' and he would not stop until he had the answers he was looking for. He took to visiting her during the majority of her free periods, as well as some evenings after class, often convincing her to join him for a stroll around the castle grounds, where he sought to pry into her personal life, especially her relationship with the potions master. It didn't bother Aria too much to begin with, in fact, she liked the company, but as the week grew to an end, she had become suspicious of his true intentions.

Almost immediately as lessons came to an end on Friday evening, right on cue, came a knock at the door. Before the potions apprentice had a second to open her mouth, the door was already pushed ajar, revealing the sunken features of Igor Karkaroff.

"Hello Igor." Aria sighed, barely sparing him a second glance.

"Good afternoon, beautiful lady" Igor chirped, his accent almost thicker than usual. Aria rolled her eyes at the headmaster, but chuckled lightly to herself in amusement. "Are you free to join me on a leisurely stroll around the castle?" He queried, striding into the center of the room, taking a seat behind one of the student's desks.

"Are you mad, Igor? The rain hasn't stopped all day! Besides, Professor Snape set a load of essays last week, that I have the pleasure to mark. I don't think I would be much in the way of conversation today, I have too much to do." She confessed, attempted to dissuade him.

"Nevertheless, I shall keep you company. I do not have anywhere to be."

"Thank you." Aria grimaced, really just wanting to focus on getting her marking done.

"Speaking of Severus..." Karkaroff begun, once again distracting Miss Dumbledore from her work. "There have been rumours of the two of you circling the school." He stated, leaving the intention of his sentence free for Aria to interpret.

"I am very well aware, Igor." She huffed. "Though they have begun to fizzle out in the last few days, I am pleased to say." The witch continued scribbling.

"That is not what I am talking about." The man shook his head, though kept his gaze firmly on the professor in an interrogative manner.

Aria raised an eyebrow, but did not stop reading the length of parchment.

"It has been said in this past week that you have entered into a relationship with the potions master, is this true?"

"God Igor, I never thought you so naïve that you would believe that sort of rubbish." She sniggered, allowing him a smidge more of her attention. "Like I would ever go out with a man like that, you surely heard what he said to me last week, it is unforgivable." Aria scoffed. "Besides, you should know just as well as I that people love to talk, students especially. Haven't you heard the one about us? It's all a load of nonsense, don't listen to any of it."

"I was simply... curious." He shrugged. "I would not like to think a beautiful woman such as yourself had gone to waste, like you say Severus Snape is simply not worth your time. You deserve much more."

"Thank you, Igor, however I do not think this is an appropriate conversation to have between colleagues, let's keep it professional." Aria suggested, noticing that the headmaster had a tendency to sidetrack the conversation to her love life.

A minute or more passed while the pair sat in silence before another knock interrupted.

Assuming it to be a student, Aria rose from her desk and made her way to the door. "Severus." She gasped, not expecting him to respect her privacy, just as Karkaroff had not. "You knocked?... again." Aria's eyes widened, taking a step back as she came face to face with the potions master.

"Yes, well, while I am not overjoyed with the current arrangements, I at least respect your need for some privacy." Severus wavered at the door, his eyes flickering towards the young woman, before taking it upon himself to enter the room, stopping almost immediately upon spotting Igor.

"I see I was right to to announce myself." The two men shared a short but intense glare. "Igor. I see you've made yourself quite at home."

"Oh... umm, Professor Karkaroff had just stopped by for a chat while I finish up on some marking." Aria rushed to explain, knowing exactly where Snape's mind was heading. "What can I do for you, Severus?"

"I came to collect the essays I assigned last week, I did not think it fair to leave them all to you while I sat in my room twiddling my thumbs."

"That's very kind of you Severus. Would you care to join us, you look like you could use the company." Aria practically begged.

Severus considered her offer for a second, knowing that what he wanted least of all was to spend time with Igor Karkaroff. However, on the other hand, he also wasn't too keen on leaving the pair alone, unsure of what he might spill to his apprentice. In the end Snape's better judgment overcame his pride and so he proceeded to pull up a chair, separating the two already seated professors.

Severus set to aggressively scribbling notes in the margins of the students essays, the scratching of his quill on parchment dominating the room. A long while past with only this and the sounds of bubbling cauldrons occupying the professors' ears. The tension between the three thickened as time went on. All scared to speak in fear of the other's response.

Finally Igor chose to break the silence, bored of staring at the potion's professors quietly marking away in unison.

"It must be hard for you Severus." Igor tested the waters, waiting on a response.

"What are you hinting at, Igor? What exactly is hard for me?" Snape replied cautiously after a moment of deliberation.

"Well, a man like you; settled in his position, proud of his job, it must be hard knowing you'll be replaced by a must younger, much more attractive model." Karkaroff shifted position in his chair, becoming more comfortable, confident in his ability to undermine the Potions master once again.

"Despite what you may have hoped Igor, you are sorely mistaken. My job is under no threat. I was simply asked to take a short week's sabbatical, in light of the recent events, until all the commotion has died down. And that week is coming to an end." Snape turned his attention from the essays, lifting his quill from the paper, and placing it to the side.

"Yes, yes of course." Igor humoured him. His body language radiating arrogance. "But it must be worrying, knowing that your job is potentially threatened by Miss Dumbledore here. She has the same skills as you, the same knowledge, and what she doesn't know now she soon will once you've been foolish enough to teach it to her. It cannot be easy, being forced to train the woman who will inevitability replace you."

"I do not know what your game is Igor, but I assure you, Miss Dumbledore is no threat to me."

Aria's ears pricked up at the second mention of her name, her gaze shooting between the two men.

"I really don't think this is relevant boys, can't we talk about something else?" Aria nervously nibbled on the edge of her lower lip. She knew where this was going and she didn't have an answer for what was coming. She also knew how vicious these men could be when they really wanted to, and she did not want to be in the room when they both pushed the other too far.

"Oh come on, Aria, darling. It must have crossed your mind. You are younger after all, the students relate to you more, god knows it wouldn't be hard to like you more. Not to mention your lineage, it cannot be more clear who Albus would prefer to employ. His own flesh and blood? Or someone with Severus'... background?"

"Watch your mouth, Igor." Snape droned through gritted teeth and flared nostrils.

"My grandfather didn't bring me here to replace Severus. He's a great professor, and a fantastic friend to him. I would even go as far to say that he trusts Severus' with his life. I am simply an apprentice. A year's training, that's what we agreed." Aria beamed, convinced she had put out the fire, unaware to the fact Igor had just lit another spark right under Severus' feet.

"With his life, eh?" Igor chuckled to himself. "How very clever you have been, Severus."

Confused Aria simply took a step back in the conversation, finally coming to the understanding that none of this was really about her.

Aria could sense Snape was uncomfortable, his body tensed and he straightened his posture, gripping his quill for comfort.

"I think it is time for you to leave, Headmaster Karkaroff. Miss Dumbledore and I are working, and prefer not to be disturbed."

"I see your game, Severus. I always knew you were a smart man, but you have played this very well indeed. But I know you, and I might just be able to beat you at your own game, if you are not careful."

"What is he talking about Snape?" The young woman whispered, turning her full attention to her colleague.

"Goodbye, Igor." Karkaroff gladly took a stand, knowing, despite Snape's commanding tone, he had won this round.

Igor Karkaroff rounded the desk, gently lifting Aria Dumbledore's hand to his lips.

"Until, next time." He breathed, bowing his head to kiss her gently, before showing himself out. "Your past is calling you Severus, and Dumbledore is ready to replace you when you go running right back."

Snape immediately rose from his chair, Aria suspecting that he was ready to storm from the room.

"Fuck." Aria breathed, joining Snape in standing. "What the hell was all that about?"

"That is none of your concern." Snape snapped, beginning to pile his papers.

"Of course... of course, it isn't." Aria shook her head knowing it was a stupid thing to say. "I only meant... well, are you okay?" She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"While I appreciate your concern, Miss Dumbledore. I am not a child who needs consoling, nor do I need your pity. I am perfectly capable of handling the likes of Igor Karkaroff."

"Yes, of course, you are. I...I just-"

"Miss Dumbledore." Severus interjected, huffing though he didn't seem nearly as angry as Aria expected. He saw the woman quickly becoming flustered trying to think of the right thing to say so as not to displease him, this was not a rare occurrence. For once Severus' actually felt sorry for her and decided to cut her some slack. They had, after all, promised to become friends.

"I need you to calm down." Snape softly commanded, though quickly moved on. "While that encounter with Professor Karkaroff was less than pleasant, it is far from unfamiliar to me. Igor and I have a past. A past I would rather forget about, him, on the other hand, not so much. My advise to you is stay out of his way. I am under the impression he has his eye set on you."

"Why would he-"

"Goodnight, Miss Dumbledore." And with that Snape returned to his quarters for the evening, Aria's questions remaining unanswered.

What was Karkaroff up to that concerned her of all people?

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

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destiniesfic · 4 years

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132 Hours, Chapter 5:

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

Note: There is a content warning this chapter for a brief mention of past attempted sexual assault. The mention comes near the end of the chapter.

Read chapter 5 on AO3, or read below:

Despite the damp cool of the basement, I am warm when I finally blink my eyes open to the dim morning light. Cardan has curled up at my back.

Alpha blood tends to run hot, they say. It plays into the general myth that we are opposites in every way: alphas hot, omegas cold; alphas strong, omegas weak; alphas dominant, omegas submissive, and so on. Scientifically the hot-cold theory has a little backing, though we’re talking an average temperature difference of 0.2 to 0.5 degrees max. But with Cardan so close to me, practically radiating heat, I am almost inclined to believe it.

We’re not touching too much. He has sort of nestled his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and if I hadn’t slept in my sweatshirt I could probably feel his eyelashes tickle my skin. His hand found the curve of my waist in the night. But that’s it. The rest of him is a few inches away, like even in sleep he finds it difficult to overcome his revulsion to me.

It’s almost comfortable, if I forget who I am and who he is. Not even what I am and what he is, because Madoc’s position means that if any handsome, eligible alpha bachelors deigned to outright marry an omega, as he had once married our mother, Taryn and I would be the best of the bunch—best-connected, best-educated, best-groomed. No, it’s that he is Cardan and I am Jude, and I have hated him ever since my body put itself at war with my brain, and he has hated me too, just because I was afforded some small amount of privilege without being born into it.

And still, I stay there for a minute, soaking up his warmth. Because I didn’t think I’d have this anytime soon. I didn’t think I’d get to wake up next to a boy cuddling me, not after what happened with Valerian and definitely not after what happened with Locke. And even though these are the worst circumstances, and this is the worst boy, there’s something perversely nice about it.

Or maybe I just like things that are bad for me.

I was thinking of seeing if girls were better when I got to college, but they don’t really explain how alpha-omega girl sex works in school and I am not about to ask Vivi. And now I don’t know if I’ll even make it to college, so maybe it’s not so bad if I steal a moment of peace.

But then the stink of mildew cuts through Cardan’s rich sweet-musky-boy scent and I am forcibly reminded of where we are and why, especially now of all times, I can’t afford to be soft. So I jam my elbow back into his side, and if I do it with maybe a little less force than I normally would, well, it’s not like he knows that.

Cardan awakens with a start. “Ow!” he says, rolling over onto his back and pressing a hand to his side. “What the hell!”

“You’re fine.” I sit up, take down my now grody ponytail, run my fingers through it and begin to put it up again, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “Today’s the day.”

Cardan scowls at me, rubbing his side.

“Do or die day,” I clarify, looping my elastic around another time. “In case you forgot.”

“I remember,” he huffs. “That mattress is terrible.”

“Well, maybe tonight you’ll get to sleep in your own bed. Or maybe we’ll be dead. Or we’ll be locked in this room again and you can sleep on the floor.”

“Such tempting options. However will I choose?”

I roll my shoulders, trying to work the kinks out of my muscles. “My guess is we’re going to be held up with the police for questioning for a long time. You might not have to. Maybe the choice will be made for you.”

“As always, Duarte, I do so admire your rosy outlook.” Cardan finger-combs his hair and sits up all the way, blinking at me. “I’m still worried about the third guy.”

I don’t tell him that I’d been thinking the same thing. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I say quietly. “We have two other bridges to cross first.”

Only a minute or so after I say it, there’s that knock on the door. I glance at Cardan, who needs to play the role of alpha today, and wait for him to speak, even though it sucks to defer to him. He takes his time about it, too, stretching his long legs, running his fingers through his hair once more, like he has all the time in the world, like the person on the other end of the door should be so lucky as to strangle him.

Just as I’m about to strangle him, he calls, “Yes?”

The door opens. The scarred man and his gun are there, along with, absurdly, a little paper Starbucks bag in his other hand. An upgrade. He looks at me and Cardan—we’re now both sitting on the mattress, even though we are a few feet apart—but if he has any comments he keeps them to himself. He shakes the bag like he’s trying to call in a wayward dog. “Breakfast.”

“Thanks,” I say, because it is my place to be deferential.

“No coffee?” Cardan asks.

I whip my head around to glare at him. The man grunts, “Didn’t know how you took it.” Disconcertingly, I can’t tell if he has a sense of humor or if he’s serious.

Airily, Cardan says, “Fine. Put it down wherever.”

The scarred man raises both his eyebrows, but he half-sets, half-drops the bag on the floor and backtracks through the door, closing it and leaving us alone. Cardan goes over to retrieve it and peers inside. “Okay, looks like sausage, egg, and cheddar and… turkey bacon?”

I hold out my hand. “Give me the turkey bacon.”

“Oh, thank god,” Cardan says, and this time he doesn’t take a bite out of it before he hands it to me.

“Not a fan of turkey bacon?”

He scowls. “It’s all healthy. Plus, it’s not like turkeys actually have a belly to cut bacon from. You have to grind it up and make it yourself.”

I snort, but am happy for his judgment if it means my breakfast escapes unscathed. It doesn’t surprise me that Cardan couldn’t care less about eating healthily. From what I know, he has a mostly liquid diet, and the liquid is mainly alcohol. Not that it matters much. He probably won’t be able to keep getting away with it after a few more years, but right now his body takes pretty much everything he consumes and uses it to build him more muscle.

I think of how hard I have to strength train for a fraction of what Cardan gains just by existing, and how some of the training shows, especially in my arms and back, but the rest is buried under a cozy layer of body fat, and I kind of want to strangle him again. Just one of the many downsides of being an omega.

Since I don’t have any fun facts about turkey bacon to contribute, we eat breakfast without speaking. We had agreed that it was important to get our strength up for whatever lies ahead, but I find it hard to chew and swallow, even though the sandwich is lukewarm. I end up offering the last half to Cardan, who takes it despite his complaints.

Then, once enough time has passed, he gives me a look, and I nod and stand, shaking my legs out. Instead of staying in my usual corner, I stand next to the door, tense, waiting. With one last glance at me, Cardan strides over and knocks.

We have a system with our captors now. They know that the knocking means we want out for one reason or another. They either call through the door to find out why or just open it right away. This time, the door simply opens. Cardan stays where he is and does not move to the back of the room.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s that time again.”

It’s the woman’s voice I hear, and I am privately thankful. “Okay, back up.”

“But I was hoping I could go first.”

“Back up.”

Cardan takes one step back. It’s now that she realizes that I’m not in my corner. Just a little further, I think. And she gives me the half-step I need.

“What’d you do with your friend?” she asks.

To answer that question, I grab her by her shirt and drag her into the cell.

Surprise is a legitimate advantage, but a fleeting one. Since she’s armed and I’m not, I need to move fast. I don’t have to think much about it. I jam my knee into her stomach; all of the air leaves her lungs in a startled gasp, and her grip loosens on the gun. I pry it from her hand with one of mine and use the other, still fisted into her shirt, to pull her further into the room—and let go.

It only takes a few seconds. I dart out. Cardan has already gone ahead, as I told him to, and I pull the door to behind me, quickly twisting the lock on the knob. That was phase one.

“Um, Jude,” says Cardan.

I turn, raising my stolen pistol in front of me before I do anything else, finger resting dangerously near the trigger. The scarred man stands on the other side of the table, his gun also raised. But instead of aiming it at Cardan, as we thought he would, he is pointing that barrel at me.

“This is a surprise,” he says.

Behind me, the doorknob rattles as the woman realizes I’ve locked her in.

“Let her out,” the man tells us, voice steady and slow.

“Or what?” I ask. Somehow, my voice doesn’t shake. “We’re both armed. Let us go and I won’t shoot you.”

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” he asks.

“What do you think?”

He cocks his head to look me over, evaluate my posture, my steady grip. “Huh,” he says, and then he moves to point his gun at Cardan instead. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “I’ll only ask nicely one more time.”

I snort. “Sure. Do me the favor.”

The scarred man raises an eyebrow. Cardan whispers, “Jude?” like he isn’t sure whether or not I am playing a game. I am not sure either. I am intoxicated by the adrenaline pulsing through me.

“We’re not friends,” I clarify. “Shoot him if you want.”

Cardan gives me a panicked look.

“Of course, if you’ve promised to give him back alive, that’s going to cause some trouble.” My palm is sweaty. I shift my grip on the gun. The knob rattles again at my back, and I hear a soft curse, a hand slamming on the door. “It’s your call.”

The man’s lip curls into a kind of terrible smile. “All right, girl,” he says. “You go free. He stays. Leave the gun on the top step.”

I blink. “Really?”

“Final offer.”

I should go right away. Instead, I glance at Cardan, who has gone pale. But he looks at me again, and then, defying all my understanding of him, he whispers, “Go, Jude.”

So I do. Slowly, my entire body quivering with tension, I walk backwards up the stairs, keeping my pistol trained on the scarred man until the last possible moment. I try the knob at the top, and find it unlocked. It seems too easy, but with one last, stomach-churning glimpse of Cardan’s white face, I flee. But I don’t do everything. I do not give up the gun.

The house I step into has obviously long been abandoned—it was probably never even finished. Some of the walls have gaping holes in the plaster, the support beams visible; some were never plastered at all. There is no furniture to speak of. I don’t linger to take it in. I start running, through a hallway, in the direction of what might be the front door. When I find it, I tumble out into bright morning sunlight, and I keep going.

Immediately I know I am well and truly in the middle of nowhere. All around me is a field of overgrown grass. If there is a road, I cannot see or hear it. Still, I have to assume there was once a driveway that led somewhere, so I take off as fast as I can toward a distant line of trees. I do not wonder about Cardan. I do not wonder about anything.

For a minute it is just me, my feet flattening the dew-damp grass, my lungs straining with every breath. I am alone in a way that I haven’t been in days. Then there is a crack from behind me, and then I feel something rush past my face, just missing me. Startled, I drop the stolen pistol, which lands harmlessly in the grass and thankfully does not fire. I don’t stop running for it. Stopping is the last thing I should do, not when I am so close.

Still, my stomach drops. Without slowing too much, I glance over my shoulder back at the house. The second floor is half-intact, and I can kind of see through the wall—there might be a dark shape perched there. A man. The third man.

He’s a sniper.

I swear under my breath, and my panicked heart skips a beat. They chose this place on purpose. There’s no cover out here, giving them a clear view of whoever might be coming or going. Giving them time to move us in case the cavalry arrived. My only choices are to keep running until I am out of range, or stop, and go back. And I am not doing that.

If I die out here alone, for nothing, I will feel so incredibly stupid.

There’s another crack, now unmistakably the sound of a rifle being fired, and this time I feel when it hits—really more of a graze, but it still skims through my flesh about midway up my calf, leaving a tear in its wake. The strange thing is that, at first, being shot doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t feel like much of anything. It shouldn’t be enough to make me miss my step. I falter anyway, and when I bring my foot down I land on it wrong and roll my ankle. I drop with a cry into the grass, tears stinging the corner of my eyes.

But even then I keep going, crawling on my hands and knees through the long summer grass, blinking back my tears because I refuse to let myself cry. I don’t look at my ankle or my wound. It is only when I hear the grass crunching underfoot behind me, and a shadow falls over me, that I finally, finally stop moving forward.

I don’t stop fighting, though. The man—Cardan had described him as tall, and he was right—picks me up with some effort and, without a word, throws me over his shoulder like a sack of garbage. After adjusting me a little so my weight is more evenly distributed, he turns to carry me back to the house. All the time I am squirming, trying to kick, pounding at his back with my fists, screaming with the faint hope that someone might hear me. It isn’t enough to get the sniper to loosen his grip on my waist, but I do feel him wince in pain a couple of times, giving me some small, bitter satisfaction.

All I think is, I shouldn’t have dropped the gun.

Despair begins to set in as we reenter the unfinished house, as the sniper shoulders his way through the door to the basement and carries me down the stairs. Cardan is seated in a chair, rumpled but seemingly unharmed, his hands behind his back. Apparently, someone has bothered to tie him up or handcuff him this time. He sits forward when he sees me carried in. “Jude?”

“Are you sure he’s the alpha?” the sniper asks his companions. “He seems to have gone easy on you.” He deposits me into another chair, and the woman is there immediately to cuff my hands, threading the handcuff chain through the chair back so I am well and truly stuck. I see that some of my blood has soaked into the sniper’s black shirt and think, Good. My leg is starting to hurt now, in throbs, like a bad burn.

“You shot her?” Cardan asks, straining against his bonds.

“I’m fine,” I say, avoiding his gaze. I cannot believe he would do something as stupid as give himself up so I could go free. I look at my wounded calf, streaked red. There is an angry-looking tear there, but it could have been much worse. He didn’t hit bone. “It’s a graze.”

“Because he’s good at his job,” says the scarred man.

The sniper shakes his head and disappears into the room beyond the bathroom. He returns with a first aid kit and begins to stoop down next to me so he can clean my calf, but I raise my foot, threatening to kick him again.

“That’s enough,” the scarred man says. “Believe it or not, we don’t want to hurt you kids.”

“Not,” I mutter under my breath.

“Hurting you wasn’t part of the remit unless you misbehaved,” says the sniper. “Is that more believable?”

I scowl and hold out my leg so that he can clean the wound. Cardan’s eyes narrow. “We can’t just trust you,” he says, as a stinging antiseptic pad is applied to the torn skin and I flinch. “We don’t even know who you are. Give us something. Names. Something to call you.”

The scarred man and the woman look at each other. The woman says, “You can call me the Bomb. This is the Roach. That—” She points to the sniper. “Is the Ghost. You can figure out why for yourself.”

“You call yourself the Roach?” Cardan asks. “Wow. I mean, love yourself a little.”

To my surprise, the man grins. “Not my choice, but we don’t get to choose. How’s her leg?”

“The twisted ankle is going to give her the most trouble,” the Ghost replies. He presses a clean cotton pad to the wound and binds it in gauze. Then he starts on wrapping my ankle. He’s efficient; he’s done this before. “Although I’m guessing we don’t want her mobile anyway.”

“I wouldn’t mind if she taught me a couple of moves,” the Bomb says, rubbing her stomach. I wonder if I bruised her. “What was that, karate?”

“Krav maga,” I admit, glaring at the Ghost as he props my foot up on the nearest empty chair. Ignoring me, he stands and leaves to wash his hands. “I’ve been training since I was nine.”

The Roach lets out a low whistle. “Someone didn’t want you getting jumped.”

I turn my glare on him. “For all the good it did me.”

For reasons I don’t understand, the Roach grins and holds up his hands. “This? This is just a paperwork dispute. Once everything’s signed and sealed, we’ll turn you loose.”

“Lot of hassle for some paperwork,” Cardan remarks. “You could have just let Jude go if it isn’t that big of a deal.”

“I’m starting to see it,” the Bomb says to the Ghost. “Although, yeah, I could have sworn the girl was the alpha too for a second there.”

And if that isn’t absurd enough, Cardan leans toward me across the table and asks, “Did they teach you how to slip handcuffs in krav maga school?”

“Do you want to dislocate your thumbs?” the Ghost asks abruptly, reemerging from the bathroom.

I give Cardan a shrug and a nod—that is how to do it—and he shudders.

“Look, we know just about everything there is to know about this guy,” says the Roach, pulling out the last empty chair and sitting across from me. “But now I’m curious about you.”

I blink. “There’s not much to say.”

“He has quite a file on him,” says the Bomb, jerking her head to indicate Cardan, who pulls an innocent face. “But you were nowhere in it. We thought you were a bystander, a fling, or maybe his new girlfriend—”

“His what?” I squawk.

“But you’re way more interesting than that,” the Roach concludes. “Cardan told us this whole little escape plan was yours.”

The Ghost, for his part, leans against the wall, folds his arms over his chest, and says nothing. I decide I would like him best except for the part where he shot me.

“Why don’t you just let Cardan tell my life story, then?” I snap, angry at everything and everyone.

“Gladly,” Cardan says, looking a little too gleeful. “Jude Duarte was born with a chip on her shoulder. She’s glaring about ninety percent of the time and never lets her guard down, ever. As far as I know, she’s only gotten drunk once. She and her sister were the first omegas to graduate from our school, and Jude staged a coup by being named valedictorian, too, as if being first at just one thing wasn’t good enough. Our last semester, she gave a kid a black eye and got him expelled.”

“Why?” The Bomb asks. “What did he do?”

Cardan lapses into an embarrassed silence that I don’t really understand. Valerian had been his friend, once. Maybe still is. I say casually, “He tried to do what alphas always do,” like I don’t still feel the awful weight on top of me, the cheekbone cracking under my knuckles. “So I did what I had to.”

“They expel kids for that now?” asks the Roach. “Huh. Good on them.”

“Jude’s dad made a persuasive case,” Cardan says.

They exchange bemused glances. The Ghost asks, “Who’s her dad?”

Cardan and I look at each other across the table. They really don’t know.

“My adoptive father,” I clarify, because it matters. “He’s a lawyer. Uh, his last name’s Madoc?”

“Oh,” says the Roach. “Shit.”

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #jurdan fanfic #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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