mango-peach-strawberry · 9 months ago
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eepy
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dancinglikebutterflywings · 2 months ago
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500 Followers = 500 Words Event: Jisung
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No More Games.
-> Pairing: Han Jisung x gf!reader
-> Requested by: Anon
-> Prompt:  No. 10 - “I think we should end things here. It’s for the best.” 
-> Warnings: Pouty Jisung. One joke about Minho being the love of Jisung's life. Don't take it literally. I don't do the whole shipping thing but it's clear Minho is Jisung's safe space and soulmate, they remind me of me and my bestie a lot (I'm a lot like Jisung when it comes to anxiety and introvertedness). My bestie is my soulmate and we joke that we're each others platonic wife's. I also think if female friends can have friendships like that without being labeled anything, that men should be allowed to as well. I originally planned to have this angsty but it's his birthday. I couldn't bring myself to write angst.
-> Word Count: 533
-> Requests: Closed
-> Tag List: Open. Send me an ask or fill out this form - Tag List Form.
500 Words Event M.List | Jisung Masterlist | Stray Kids Masterlist
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“I think we should end things here. It’s for the best.” Y/N says, reaching to gather the game pieces. She had just won her fifth round, and she could sense her boyfriend's frustration mounting with every loss.  
Jisung stares at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, clearly taken aback by her suggestion to stop the game. He was hoping to keep playing until he could win at least one round.  
"Wait, why? We're just getting started!" He sulks, his voice a mix of disbelief and disappointment. 
Y/N pauses, her hand hovering over the game pieces. She glances across the coffee table at him, taking in the way his brows are furrowed and the way his lips are pouted slightly. 
"Jisung," she begins, her voice softening, "You were practically fuming over there a minute ago."  
He shakes his head, his expression one of determination. This is his girlfriend’s favourite game. He’s been learning to play it so it could be something they do together when she can’t meet up with her friends which had been often lately. "I’ve been learning how to play so you can still play it when you're not with your friend. I also took every free moment that I had to practice. I just need one more chance to show you that I can play this game!" A hint of desperation appeared in his eyes. 
Y/N can’t help but smile at his little confession. “But it’s your birthday. We should be doing something you want to do.” 
“I’m already doing what I want to do,” he assures her. “I spent the day with the boys and now I’m spending the rest of my birthday with the love of my life.” 
“Minho’s here?” she asks pretending to look for her boyfriend’s boyfriend. 
“Hahaha,” he laughs sarcastically.  
“I’m just kidding,” She chuckles and leans over and placing a soft peck to his lips. “But seriously, let’s do something you want to do.”  
"What I want to do is play one more round of this game," he insists. 
“One more round,” she concedes, holding her hand up with one finger raised. “But if you lose again, we are putting the game away and doing something else.”  
His face breaks into a wide grin, his disappointment melting away. He leans forward to reset the pieces on the board, his eyes sparkling with determination. “I’m so going to win this time. I can feel it!”  
As they begin a new round, Y/N can’t help but admire the way Jisung’s focuses, his brow furrowing in concentration as he bites his lip. She watches him, so much affection her heart swells. If she were an anime character, there would be love hearts drawn in her eyes, showing how much love she has for him. 
“You know, you’re really cute when you’re all serious like this,” she teases, her heart eyes now twinkling with mischief.  
He glances up at her, a soft blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Stop it! I’m just trying to concentrate here,” he retorts, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
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©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead
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i-can-read-to-him · 1 month ago
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The Wesper Fic Club's Author Spotlight is a post series that aims to feature two to three fic authors a month, randomly selected from a pool of names put forth on our server. The authors are then asked to answer three interview questions, select up to five of their fics for us to feature, and finally, recommend three fics by others in the fandom.
(Note: Our spotlighted fics are not limited to Wesper, though they tend to be a central pairing in most of our authors' featured works.)
This week, we are putting a spotlight on Blackpearl's writing!
Socials: @magicandpizza (Tumblr) | Blackpearl (AO3)
Part One: Author Interview
Q: When did you first start writing? What keeps you going today?
A: I honestly don’t remember when I started writing, but I was very young. I have vague memories of writing some little stories inspired by Beatrix Potter, and at one point I was convinced I was going to write the fifth Harry Potter book. I don’t recall anything else about that one apart from the title - Harry Potter and the Silver Snitch. What was the plot? Who knows.  My first serious fandom was Pirates of the Caribbean, followed by Spooks and BBC Sherlock. I had some of those fanfics published on AO3, but they’ve long since been orphaned. I then didn’t write anything for years and years until I fell into the Six of Crows fandom. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Q: Have you had a chance to interact with the SAB cast? Tell us about your experience(s)?
A: I’ve been lucky enough to meet Jack Wolfe a few times by stage-dooring at Next to Normal, once at the Donmar and three times at Wyndhams. He’s such a genuine, down-to-earth person who really loves his fans. And his eyelashes? Rude. I also met Kit Young after his show Influence. It was about two days after the cancellation announcement and we had a chat about that, as well as what had drawn him to doing a magic show. He was very kind and generous with his time. I’m attending Into The Fold 2 next year - it’ll be my first ever convention so I’m excited for that and the opportunity to meet some more of the cast!
Q: What’s something you wish you could write, but don’t think you ever will?
A: I really wish I was one of those authors who could craft incredible and intricate plot lines, but I never have been and I don’t think I ever will be. I’d love to be able to write a heist or something complicated like that, but all my attempts are half-hearted at best. I should probably just stick to what I do best: fluff and smut.
Part Two: Selected Works
Don't Do Sadness
Mature | 3.1K (Complete) | Wesper 5+1, Wylan Van Eck and his trauma, Violence, Extremely dubious consent (not Wesper)
Blackpearl says: Mind the tags on this one. I really wanted to explore Wylan’s trauma at different ages and how he might cope with it, and also take a step away from the usual stuff I write. I’m very pleased with how this one turned out.
Sky Full of Stars
Explicit | 10.2K (Complete) | Wesper   Famous/celebrity AU, Wylan is a musician, Jesper is an actor, mixed media fic
Blackpearl says: This was an idea I had percolating for a while, and I wanted to play around with writing different kinds of media. I feel this one is a bit under-appreciated but that’s fine, I had fun writing it.
We Keep This Dream Together
Mature | 33.1K (Complete) | Wesper  Coffee shop/university AU, Loosely based on the UK education system, Wesper-centric featuring background Helnik and Kanej, Found Family
Blackpearl says: Who doesn’t love a coffee shop AU? This was very self-indulgent, but I had so much fun with it I’m working on a sequel!
Folding 
Teen | 2.6K (Complete) | Wesper  Jesper’s gambling addiction, Post-canon, Hurt/comfort
Blackpearl says: I don’t think Jesper’s gambling addiction gets addressed enough, and I wanted to explore what it might look like post-canon. 
Tie Me Up
Explicit | 1.7K (Complete) | Wesper Shameless smut, Light bondage, Light dom/sub, bottom!Wylan, top!Jesper
Blackpearl says: It wouldn’t be me without a smut fic, and this is one of my favourites. Featuring slightly subby Jesper and slightly mean Wylan and a tie that neither of them will ever look at the same again.
Part Three: Author's Recs
i’d marry you with paper rings by MaudeAlise
Teen | 11.3K (Complete) | Wesper, Helnik, Kanej Fluff, Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Marriage Proposal
Blackpearl says: Just 11k words of Wylan and Jesper being stupidly in love and wanting to marry each other. This fic makes me grin like an idiot every time I love it. Also just a general shout out to everything that MaudeAlise writes. I’m obsessed with them. 
Obvious Lovebirds by perculiarjuliar 
Teen | 11.6K (Complete) | Wesper, Helnik, minor Kanej POV Multiple, Fluff, Heartbeats, Holding Hands, Hickeys, Kissing
Blackpearl says: Six different outsider perspectives of Wylan and Jesper’s relationship. I love fics like this, and this author did such a great job of getting into the heads of the different characters. 
Keep You Safe by @aphroditestummyrolls
Mature | 42.3K (Complete) | Wesper, Helnik, Kanej, Crows & Colm Post-Canon, Book & Show, Canon Divergence, Protective Crows
Blackpearl says: Six months post-canon in an alternate universe where Jesper took the jurda parem, and Matthias lives. Colm Fahey comes looking for his son. This fic is so so so good and made me feel so many things. I love the deep dive in Jesper and Colm’s relationship, as well as Jesper and Wylan’s. Just perfect.
Please support our authors by commenting and leaving kudos on any stories of theirs you read and enjoy! Don't forget to also reblog this post and check back soon for our next author spotlight to come.
Interested in joining our server and getting to know our community? Feel free to request an invite via the @i-can-read-to-him ask box.
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sugolara · 6 months ago
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𝙎𝙤 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙧
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ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader
Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn
previous || series m.list || next
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“Are you doing okay? Have you left like you always said you would?” Shoto had a hand on his forehead as he leaned further into his palm. His brows furrowed in concentration, but it was hard due to the rotters being killed behind his room. 
Since Tomura has officially welcomed him, he was no longer in the small cold room. He had been allowed to have privileges and with that came a room that had everything you would want, well, almost everything as he was still missing someone.
A week had gone by since he hasn’t seen his friends. The last sight he ever saw them was when his teachers and a friend had been brutally murdered. He could vividly remember that day, it was hard to make the thoughts disappear. 
He’s tried to get the vision out of his head, playing the radio with outdated cds to escape his mind, but even then that did nothing as he still had to be remembered by Tomura and his goons. He wanted to smash their stupid faces every time they laughed and there were times where he wanted to get rid of them but Dabi had to hold him back, saying the time wasn’t right.
“As much as I want to say I’ve been doing good, I haven’t. I wish I could tell you that I’m happy, that I’m here with my brother having a happy reunion and remembering the days of when we were both children.” Shoto shutted his eyes tightly as the growls got louder. 
He took a deep breath, his fingers clutching on his hair as ignored the laughter coming from behind his bedroom. How could someone have fun playing with someone who used to be humans? He found it absurd and concerning. 
He then opened his eyes where they shifted to the crumbled up dirty paper in front of him. He had to laugh at himself as this would be the fifth time he wrote her letter. None of them seemed perfect and he could feel the one he was writing becoming unworthy. He doubted she would even receive these letters as he has no idea of when he would be allowed to go back to Sorston. 
“My brother keeps telling me to wait for the right moment. I think he knows I’ve been writing to you. We don’t speak as often as Tomura keeps him busy. There are times when we do speak, but it’s not a cherishable moment.”
He leaned in his chair, his eyes looking at the wall in front of where a pegboard was hung. There was still previous stuff that had been left behind from the man who used to reside there. Tomura had mentioned that the man had been decapitated and displayed for his community to see. The reason why? Betraying him.
Shoto lifted his arm where he picked up a drawing, made by a kid. There was a house on a hill, with a father and daughter holding hands and smiling. Butterflies had been drawn and the sun was at the corner, smiling.
He flipped it around to where he saw a note that read, “To my dad, the best daddy I could ask for!” 
He didn’t know why, but the paper had Shoto feeling sad as his head hung low, letting a soft sigh out. The drawing was clutched in his hand as he stared at his dirty shoes. The faint sound of laughing was heard until it finally disappeared.  
“It feels like I have no one here with me.” Hearing a knock on his door, Shoto wiped his eyes and placed a book on top of the letters. He let the drawing fall to the ground as he reached for the door. 
Seeing Dabi on the other side had the younger male return to his desk, with an exasperated expression, “How long?”
The raven-haired male closed the door and leaned on it, his eyes glanced to his desk where he could see a couple crumpled up papers. He shrugged to his question, “Don’t know.”
“I can’t spend another week here.” Shoto annoyingly said as he glared at him. He just wanted to see her.
Dabi again shrugged as his eyes peered at his window, “It doesn't matter what you want. What any of your friends want. He’ll always get his way and your friends dying was just a warmup. So you tell whoever it is you're writing to, to get their shit together.”
The bi-coloered male scoffed, “You’re his right man, can’t you help me see them. Even if it’s just for a short while?”
“You won’t have to wait for long. We’re supposed to receive our supplies sometime this week.” Dabi leaned away from the door and placed his hand on the knob, “Tomura needs us.”
Seeing his brother exit the room, Shoto followed after him with his gun hitting his hip everytime he took a step. He closed his doors and walked down the halls that barely held any lights. “You’ll never get these letters, but I hope you wait for me.”
A bullet flew, lodging itself in a rotter's head just a few steps away. F/n grinned as she placed her sniper rifle down and smuggling looked at Katsuki, “Fourth one down.”
The blonde rolled his eyes and lifted his rifle. He looked through the scope, looking for a rotter and upon finding one, he pressed the trigger, the casing fell to his feet while the bullet flew. Though upon seeing it graze the rotter, Katsuki could hear F/n let out a chuckle and sniped the one he missed. 
He ended up glaring at her, “You’re a fucking cheater.”
“Sucks, to suck.” She shrugged with a smug face.
Before Katsuki could pounce on her, they were both hit with tiny rocks. They looked down below them where they saw Izuku. His arms were crossed as he gave them a scolding look, “You’re supposed to be on watch. Quit playing around.”
The blonde glared down at him, “It’s boring as hell! I’d rather be building the walls than be stuck with her!”
The girl squinted her eyes at him as Izuku shook his head, “Kacchan, you asked to be put up there, remember?”
“Yeah, Kacchan.” F/n quietly said as she placed her fist near her mouth to muffle her laugh as Katsuki turned to her with a scowl. “What did you call me!?”
The male below continued to shake his head as he saw his childhood friend furiously shake his lover all while she let her body go limp, trying to hide her smile. The blonde didn’t know of their relationship, so Izuku needed to let him know that F/n was off limits.
Upon seeing them, he would have felt jealous considering he knew the blonde's feelings for her, but knowing that she chose him outdid his jealousy, though he can admit, there was a twinge of bitterness in him just seeing her smile at someone who was not him. 
It didn’t matter. She was with him, not with his childhood friend. His jealousy would soon evaporate once he informs Katsuki of their situation, “You guys only have five more minutes, so please, pay attention. Otherwise someone will die.”
He quietly added the last comment as he moved towards Ochaco who was on the other watchtower. He climbed up the ladder and stood beside her, letting her get rid of the dead as he watched the people down below build the walls. 
HIs eyes then peered at the girl next to him. A pink hue settled on his freckle cheeks, “Hey…can I tell you something?”
Ochaco let the rifle rest in her hands as she turned to him. Seeing a blush stain on his cheeks had her heart beating, “Sure, what is it?”
Izuku placed a hand on his nape, suddenly feeling embarrassed, “I know this is long overdue, but, I can’t help that a part of me feels…guilty. Guilty for moving on from you so quickly and leading you on the first day we saw each other.. I even talked about the girl I was interested in, to you, knowing how we felt about each other.
We both liked each other, heck, you probably loved me, so seeing me with someone who wasn’t…you, had to hurt.” He then looked at her, feeling bad as he could see her crestfallen face, “And I’m sorry, for making you feel that way.”
She blinked her tears and turned away. She then let out an awkward chuckle, her fingers gripping around the rifle, “Izuku…I was never in love with you. What I had for you was just a silly crush and whatever happened in the past stays there. I’m not mad at you for finding someone, but I’ll admit that it did hurt to see you move on so quickly.
“But the more I watched you both from afar,” She turned to look at him, her eyes peering behind him where she could see F/n sniping the dead and Katsuki looking at her with same look she gave Izuku in high school, “...you were happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that. I think I only liked you, because I admired the way you put yourself.”
She ended lastly with a small smile. The watch around her wrist began to ring and she began to walk towards the ladder, “Our day’s up. You should tell F/n and Katsuki.”
Izuku watched her leave. He felt relieved, yet almost sad to know that he couldn’t reciprocate her feelings. But, perhaps this was for the best as she didn’t need anyone to fill her loneliness and that she can survive just by herself. 
Yeah, Izuku smiled as he climbed off the tower and proceeded to F/n, informing them of their next position. Ochaco would be just fine without him. 
As the two males entered the home, F/n sat on the porch where she opened a book that she left the previous night. She wasn’t reading, she instead looked at the view in front of her which displayed other houses. She had been deep in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the sun had gone down.
She could hear a few people laughing and their shoes scraping against the road. A few birds were chirping as they sat on the roof of the porch above her. She would have been annoyed, but considering what today was, it sounded peaceful.
Hearing the door beside her open caught her attention. She shifted her eyes to the book in her hands. Skimming by a few paragraphs to pretend she was reading. The book was boring and she had to question Izuku’s taste in them.
“Are you ready?” Izuku softly said as he looked at F/n sitting on the front porch with a book in hand. His brows furrowed upon seeing her appearance, “You’re not even dressed.”
“‘Course I am.” She said, smiling as she continued to look at the book, “I’m not going.”
“F/n..” Izuku said as he took a seat next to her. What can he say to convince? Nothing, but letting her know he was there for her should help, even if it's just for a moment. 
He took her hands in his, leaning in to her as he gave her a sympathetic look, one that she hated, “I understand if you don’t want to come, really I do. He wasn’t someone you just met, he was someone you spent your entire life with, someone you shared memories with. Family will always be family, even through death.”
She blinked as she stared at him, letting the male finish, “Saying goodbye to Hanta one last time would help you move on. It's the start of the healing process.”
She glanced to her side as Izuku stood up, giving her a kiss on her forehead before heading off, “Either way, I’m sure he’d understand if you didn’t come.”
She watched his leaving figure, the birds that were chirping were no longer singing as one of them flew away. She could hear the other one walking on the roof. She wished to hear them once again.
The front door opened again and out came Katsuki. He looked at the girl as he crossed his arms, “You’re seriously not going? That’s a bit fucked up, isn’t it?” 
She glanced away from the road and shrugged, going back to her book, “Y’know no one is there, right? We’re basically saying goodbye to dirt and, like, flowers.”
The blonde rolled his eyes as he took a seat of where Izuku last was. He stared ahead where a few people were walking by. He was unsure of what to say as he wasn’t one to be known for comforting people, “At least…it will feel nice. To just…say goodbye.”
The girl glanced at him, seeing his peaceful look was unfamiliar to her. It was then she remembered that she wasn’t the only one who lost someone. He, Izuku and Shoto lost someone as well. She began to feel guilty, a feeling she never thought she'd have again.
“Anyways,” The blonde stood up, his figure was tense as he felt her eyes on him, “we’re heading to Pink Cheeks for a while. They’re making dinner and were supposed to head there after.”
Before he left he gave her a glance, an embarrassment blush on his cheeks, “..I’d like it if you came.”
She watched his retreating figure and when he was no longer in sight, she rose from her chair and entered her home where she then walked up the stairs and headed for her room. She changed out of her work attire, wearing something that could be considered nice.
She brushed her hair before leaving the home and following after the two males. Her feet let her take her to the funeral and a part of her didn’t know why she was even going. 
Maybe it was to be there for Izuku and Katsuki as they also lost someone or maybe…she was doing it for herself. Forgive and move on. 
When she arrived, she could see people placing flowers down. Mostly everyone of Class–3A was there as well as the council team. She couldn’t see Nezu when she moved to be next to Izuku. She figured he was busy or too ashamed to even be here.
Below her feet was Hanta’s grave. She ignored the people who said their goodbyes or mentioned their favorite thing about them. She stared at the bundle of flowers placed on top of the dirt. 
It was beautiful. She had to appreciate the fact they put in the effort to make it mesmerizing. Even by adding a few trinkets so that when the sun hit, it would give off a glowy aura.
Seeing a single flower come to her view, she glanced at Izuku as he gave her a warm smile. Her eye twitched as she took the flower in her hand, the other hand then grabbing his and squeezing it before looking back at the grave. 
So long Hanta.
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mooncustafer · 2 years ago
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First day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Hadn’t been expecting the agency to call me back so quickly with a placement, so I arrived at the address not quite my best self. Luckily my potential employer is either absentminded or doesn’t believe in locking his door, so I didn’t have to ring the doorbell.
Slipped into the kitchen and had just mixed myself a hangover cure when an awkward man in hideous pajamas staggered out of the bedroom and stared at me in confusion. I handed him the hangover cure without thinking and then squirmed internally as I watched him drink it, awaiting the explosion of rage.
To my surprise he thanked me, said it was just what he’d needed, and asked me when I could start as his manservant.
Second day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Didn’t get a chance to unpack my things before my new and still-vague gentleman told me we were going to visit someone in the country. Packed my gentleman’s things for a stay of indefinite length and he drove us to an estate full of people all of whom seem to be caught up in various intrigues.
Shortly after our arrival, I overheard one of my gentleman’s friends (or possibly a cousin?) complaining to him at length that he is madly in love with a young lady who remains completely indifferent. Took the liberty of asking whether he’d ever actually tried speaking to the object of his affections, and he grabbed my hand, shook it as if trying to wrench it off, and tore out of the room like a cat with its tail on fire.
Third day as a gentleman’s gentleman: I’ve made a terrible mistake. My gentleman’s friend-or-cousin spoke to the girl and found out he can’t stand her, actually; but she somehow read his initial ardour and its sudden withdrawal as evidence of a mercurial and passionate nature and is now obsessed with him.
Also it turns out she has a jealous suitor who is now constantly trying to provoke my gentleman’s friend-or-cousin to pistols at dawn or something. Romance Girl is having the time of her life, but I’m worried somebody’s going to get killed—I only hope it’s not my gentleman, who seems to have the self-preservation skills of a kitten in a creeping barrage. In the twenty-four hours since our arrival he’s already managed to pick up and then mislay a Dresden shepherdess beloved of his great-aunt, who controls his allowance and therefore my wages. He also interrupted a clandestine rendezvous between two other houseguests, one a celebrated alienist and the other a Member of Parliament.
He still thinks they were searching for the shepherdess.
Fourth day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Friend-or-Cousin has mysteriously vanished, along with his suitcase. Word in the servants’ hall is that the Jealous Suitor’s temper boiled over late last evening and he was heard to utter threats.
With his flight, Friend-or-Cousin has drawn the blame for the loss of the still-missing Dresden shepherdess, which is good news for my gentleman, bad news for Friend-or-Cousin; the more so since his alleged thievery has further inflamed Romance Girl. Not my problem.
The alienist and the M.P. were conspicuously avoiding each other at the breakfast table.
Fifth day as a gentleman’s gentleman: That damn shepherdess was on the breakfast-room mantelpiece the whole time. She was just hidden behind the Foo dog whose mate was broken ten years back but who can’t be moved because they were a present from General Sir Somebody Somebody.
Friend-or-Cousin’s whereabouts still unknown, but on behalf of my gentleman, who was adorably concerned, I’ve sent a telegram to his London club to let him know he need no longer fear-- Romance Girl has switched her focus to the local vicar. I feel bad for him, but I also believe he could easily take Jealous Suitor in a boxing match if necessary.
Sixth day as a gentleman’s gentleman: Visit to the country concluded happily-- the alienist and the M.P. have somehow patched up relations between my gentleman and his great-aunt, already softened up by the rediscovery of her shepherdess. I’m pretty sure they’re trying to curry favour with my gentleman because they think he might stoop to blackmail (Note to self—keep that up sleeve in case of future emergencies).
Realized when we got back to our flat that my gentleman’s mauve tie is still somewhere back in Shropshire.
To Hell with it.
If he asks, I’ll say the colour didn’t suit him.
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quantummindclassicalheart · 2 years ago
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Master post of quantum's Critical Role fic
You can now find me on AO3 as FiveCamellia! I will be gradually archiving older fic there. Various other things I’ve written including scicomm stuff and poetry live in my general #writing tag, feel free to check it out! For scicomm specifically, check out my #quantum talks quantum tag.
(This is a repost of my old pinned post, but with the new post format.)
a dream within a dream (AO3, Tumblr. New! Completed 2023/01/21.) > When the fog of Rumblecusp steals away Caleb’s memories, Jester must help him remember. But this time, it’s going to take a little more than a fifth-level spell slot. For Widojest Secret Santa 2022.
The Lovers’ Lie (original song) > There is an old folk song that is sung in Exandria.  It goes by a lot of titles–In Marquet it’s commonly known as The Liar’s Love, while natives of Xhorhas would know it as The Fey Groom, and the elves of Syngorn’s version has a title that translates to “The Sacrifice of Truth for Love.” This is one bard’s rendition of the song in Common, as accompanied by ukulele.
verbal and somatic (AO3) > In which Jester has a creative idea for how to use the Polymorph spell, and with a truly heroic effort (and the benefit of War Caster), Caleb succeeds on a series of concentration checks with increasingly high DC. (AKA: Widojest body swap sexy times.) (Post-campaign, established relationship AU.)
a soft place to land (AO3) > A few years after their travels with the Mighty Nein, Caleb and Jester reunite for the summer and kinda sorta fall in love all over again. (Post-campaign, as the summary suggests, but more or less canon-compliant)
a dream of flight (AO3) > My first Loquaerryn fic, about their first dance (and what comes after). Laerryn is used to taking the lead, but when she meets Loquatius Seelie, he challenges everything she knows about following.
rainy days and twisting braids > Yasha braids Beau’s hair, and softness follows. For Beauyasha Week 2022 Day 2: Hair. (Takes place post-campaign.)
like it’s the last time > A Widojest epilogue “missing scene,” i.e. the final conversation Caleb and Jester never got in canon. It’s the night before Fjord and Jester leave Nicodranas, and the Nein are throwing a party. Everything should be great. Except Caleb’s been distant lately, and Jester wants to know why. (Takes place during the Campaign 2 finale, roughly.)
waves of memory > A short Shadowgast piece based on some merperson!Essek AU art.
we must all tend our gardens > A character study of everyone's favorite drow hotboi and his complicated relationship with faith, as told through gardening. (Takes place during the Campaign 2 finale.)
[podfic] Die Smaragdwelle (Jade_Sabre) > A reading of Die Smaragdwelle, a fairy tale about a princess swallowed up by an emerald wave and the wizard who had to find her. (Featuring my vocal impressions of all the Mighty Nein.)
und andere Zemnische Volksmärchen > What if things had gone just a little differently post-Katzenprinz? (Fluff. Fluff is what happens.) For Widojest Week 2021 Day 6: Der Katzenprinz.
four-and-a-half waltzes of caleb widogast > A series of vignettes in which Caleb shares four dances with four of the most important people in his life, and learns to embrace the magic of possibility. (Spoilers for all of Campaign 2, minus the finale.)
the divine transmutation of the self > In which magic changes Veth, and Veth changes her mind about magic. (Spoilers through C2E97)
drawn together > Making stuff for (and with) the people you care about is a love language. In which Beau decides to learn how to draw, and also learns a few other things along the way. (Takes place sometime post-C2E111) 
a taste of summer > In which Caleb’s hidden talent for baking and Jester’s love of sweets collide in the best possible way. (Takes place sometime post-C2E111) 
sunrise over eiselcross > A little scene between Fjord and Jester from the morning after their big conversation in C2E118.
you're still there > Beau has a nightmare about a path not taken. Yasha’s there to help her through it. Cuddles ensue. (Takes place sometime post-C2E111)
disguise selves > An AU where Caleb and Jester are (human) roommates, preparing for a Halloween costume party over Zoom. Jester being Jester, she insists on a photo shoot in costume. Everything goes better than expected. (no spoilers)
the nature of possibility > Two things possessed me to write this: the concept of including some actual thermodynamics in a fic about dunamancy, and the idea of hand contact during a spellcraft lesson. What ensued was nearly a thousand words of Shadowgast. (Takes place sometime post-C2E77)
an unnatural tide > Caleb doesn't normally forget things. But Rumblecusp isn't a normal island. What did he forget that last morning? Here's my best guess. (Spoilers for C2E105)
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x----tine · 2 months ago
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You recently published your second book of poetry, Goodnight Sweet Thing, and you’re known as a visual artist and filmmaker, too. At what point did you feel it was necessary to move between these different disciplines?
Well, I’ve always written poetry. I remember we first started studying poetry, in fifth grade, just Shel Silverstein and Robert Frost type stuff. We would have to write a lot of poems, and people liked my poem so much they would let me read them to them during the class, and I really enjoyed that. They were pretty silly poems, but ever since then, I didn’t really stop writing poetry. I didn’t really start taking it that seriously until I was 17 and that was the first time I was trying to get published.
I was very solitary, I had a best friend and she was also writing poems in high school, so I could only talk to her about it. I saw the Basquiat movie, the Julian Schnabel one, and I saw René Ricard’s character in it, and I was drawn to him because I was like, “Oh, he’s Puerto Rican,” and I’m Puerto Rican, and I hadn’t really seen anybody who was cool and Puerto Rican, into the things that I was into, that was also Puerto Rican. I looked him up and I found his book of poems, God with Revolver, which is my favorite book of poems. Most formative, for sure. His writing really influenced me, because I didn’t know that poems could be like that before I had been exposed to him. Very confessional and candid and like a knife being stuck into you.
I finally got published when I was 24 or something. I have a lot of poems from that time. A lot of the ones that I think are good enough are in the first book, which is the second half of [Goodnight Sweet Thing], that just spans a decade. I was being extremely picky.
To answer your question, though, when I was in high school, I was in TV production and had a crush on this punk kid who introduced me to Miranda July and David Lynch. I really wanted to impress him, and he used to stay after school and use the analog video editors to make video art. I was like, “Well, I guess I have to make a cool video, too.” I didn’t really think about it as video art then, but it totally is, and I was just making weird videos to impress him.
Because he was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz, I gave him this aluminum foil Tin Man that I made, and I put it in a Barbie box and painted it all and I made it look like it was prepackaged. I remember his impression of that. I didn’t really think about it as, “Oh, this is a sculpture,” or something, but I remember he was just so impressed by it. I guess he was the first person that really made me see myself as an artist. Seeing his response to it is what really made me feel like it was something that I really wanted to do. I think that experience was really formative, and he’s like a brother to me now.
What is your way into a poem? Does it start for you with a specific idea or an image, or is it something that’s kind of more malleable and amorphous, and is it similar with other mediums you work in?
They’re kind of different for me. With poetry, I would say it’s both. It depends on the poem. Sometimes I write a poem just for the sake of exercising the experience of writing a poem, which can be very playful and malleable, and I don’t usually know where that’s going to go. It’s just kind of a lot of word games, or just play with language, or just thinking about how the words connect. Also, there’s a natural impulsive intuitiveness to it. I would say most times I’m writing to document a feeling that I’m having, and I see them more like emotional pictures or something, of experiences that I’m having that I can’t really articulate or document in any other way, because I think those kinds of feelings are very fleeting, and I think that poetry is really good to capture fleeting emotion.
Earlier, when you were talking about how some of the poems that you didn’t put in your first book of poems, you were being really picky about it. What is it about looking at those that makes you say, “This is not something that I want,” or, “This is not up to my standard”?
I definitely have really high standards for what I reveal to the world, because I don’t want to embarrass myself, and I don’t like wasting people’s time. I feel like poetry in particular skirts a fine line between being really profound and beautiful, and being extremely corny and contrite. I’m always super mindful of that distinction.
I think poetry is definitely so vulnerable to me because it’s extremely personal, and it’s kind of the only space I give myself to be very direct and unapologetic. I feel like with my artwork, even if it has probably accents of that, it’s very mediated, just the very nature of it, the way that I’m presenting it.
Even if not all the poems are about me or about anybody, it’s very confessional. It’s funny because I looked back, I found the drive with all the really old poems, and I found all these ones that I’d never published, and I was like, “These are good.” I feel like it’s almost like, with the distance, I feel so removed from myself from over 10 years ago that I could look at it with more clarity. Whereas before, I don’t really know what that inhibition is, that kind of self-censorship feeling. Maybe I feel more sure of myself now that I have a lot more public validation.
In terms of reflecting on the totality of your career in arts, what is one thing that you wish you’d known when you were first starting out? Do you ever look back and say, “Maybe I should have done something differently?”
It’s funny because I was having a conversation about this with somebody the other day, and it’s a very dialectic thing. On one hand, choosing to be an artist, and I wasn’t the kind of artist that was like, “Oh, I want to do graphic design part-time or get a part-time job.” I was just like, “I’m all in.” I was a waitress. I’d done a lot of really random jobs, and the benefit of that is that I had preserved my own energy and my own time. But on paper, it was harmful in terms of kind of financial security. It’s really just a question of financial security versus your psychic security, because the time of the you afford yourself, or being on your on your own schedule. My energy gets really easily polluted by my environment, and if I’m in an environment that is really in opposition to myself for a very long time, it’s very hard for me to feel like I have the mental space to be where I need to be, to be creative in a way that is realistic.
My energy levels are so sensitive. I guess you can have a lot of critical acclaim, and it doesn’t mean that you’re going to have financial security. That’s all I need to say. It’s a very practical thing, but especially now, more than ever, the way social media has engineered this massive machine where we all have our own channels and we’re all kind of competing for attention to have the most visibility, and if you have the most visibility, then you have the most chances of having financial security, I think that’s what [people expect] the end result [to] feel like. After a certain point, you have a moment where you look back and you’re like, “Was it all worth it?”
I have asked myself that a lot lately, as I’m getting older, but for me, it was worth it. I wouldn’t be who I am. Material things aside, I feel very complete as a person, mentally, and I feel very happy with my internal space, and I think that’s just a trade-off. It’s what I need.
There’s a poem in Goodnight Sweet Thing titled “Change My Money with Your Life.” I’m thinking of the lines: “making cheap outfits yet again / poverty solutions.” How do artists, especially young artists, rectify that anxiety between needing to just make money and have our basic needs met, and also then time to create, while trying to build that career? Is it just trying to say yes to every opportunity that you can? Is it a mindset?
I think it depends on how young we’re talking. You do have to be careful about what context you place yourself in. I think when you’re really young, it’s normal to make a lot of mistakes or make decisions that you’ll regret later, maybe be embarrassed of. I certainly, have had to learn a lot. More than anything, I think you just have to have the drive. If you don’t have the drive and the will, this kind of urgency to express, then I think it’ll be very difficult, and maybe directionless, too. You have to have a strong drive in order to get anywhere with any creative field of this nature, like writing, when you’re the sole author, and it’s not a kind of commercial job. There’s a lot of loneliness in it, you’re doing it alone for so long, and you might always do it alone, and you just don’t know. It’s just probably one of the few jobs where you could work your ass off and do everything right, and there’s no promise that anything’s going to come of it.
If we were doctors, or, I don’t know, if we were in some corporate structure or something, there would be upward mobility that was very clear and delineated, for the most part. I know there’s issues with that too, but at least you would get a paycheck, I guess.
Do you ever hit a point where that urgency has ever gone away, and you’ve had to figure out how to get it back?
After I accomplished a certain number of things, I felt more subdued in my urgency, because I think before, it was like, I had to prove it to myself that my work was worthwhile or that people could connect to what I’m doing, but I have enough proof to know that people like what I do and that people do connect with it. Now, I still have compulsions to create things, and I could do so much more if I had more resources. Because I have had so much experience with various types of ways of presenting my work and working with other people, that I feel like probably this next decade would be the best for me creatively, and that would just depend on—mean, with or without this—but if I do get more financial investment on making things, I know that I could do stuff that’s really brilliant. I’ll just have to wait and see.
What is day-to-day life for you as a full-time artist?
Well, out of a lot of chaos, I have managed to create a very structured way of working for myself. That was not natural. It took many years for me to get to the place where I could organize my schedule. I can say I’m going to be at a certain time in certain place and do certain things, so I like to start my day with exercise. I like to go to the gym, and then I like to go to the studio. Because I have different mediums, it depends on what the deadlines are like, what the priority is, and if I don’t have any pressing deadlines, then it’s what’s most compelling to me personally. I juggle the filmmaking stuff, art stuff, and then the poetry. Poetry is more… I see poetry more as a hobby, if that makes sense, because it’s kind of like the performance art of literature. Only people who really like it do it. Anybody who does poetry is because they’re a real poet, I think, and I think that’s very beautiful, because you don’t have to censor yourself to kind of cater to any commercial needs. You can just let it be.
Is there anything that has surprised you about the business side of having to be an artist, even with poetry?
I have a lot of feelings about it. I mean, the artist has to do everything. They have to be their own administrator, manager, at least until you can afford to hire somebody to do it for you. We have wear so many hats throughout different phases of creative production. I feel like it would be very helpful if professors could have space to talk about the business of art in school. I don’t know how it is now, but when I was at school, it was kind of a taboo thing to talk about the practicalities of this profession, and I think I just felt so blind when I graduated from my bachelor’s. I had no idea how to make anything feasible in a kind of economy of art. It was only self-taught, really.
What would you say is the most useful thing that you’ve had to teach yourself about that process?
Don’t expect anybody to do anything for you, advocate for yourself and don’t low-ball yourself. I think a lot of times, artists and writers are put in a position to be grateful for any attention, because we’ve been vying so hard for attention for so many years. In the beginning, at least, I felt like it was like, “Oh my gosh, they want to do this thing.” You don’t think to yourself, “Oh, let me just ask for proper compensation.” With poetry, too, it’s the same, even having to… I know with bigger book deals, it’s not like this, but with smaller presses, you can get more fair royalties, 50/50, after production or whatever, of the cost. It’s very reasonable, but that seems like a hard thing to ask for, too.
I think a lot of people take the work for granted in terms of financial compensation. I can only speak for myself, but it felt like, “I’m going to get in trouble if I ask for it.” There were so many years of me selling myself short, but now I’m very clear about that, and I think creating a very practical way for you to get compensated fairly that fits for you, you’d be surprised. Most times you can get it.
How did you learn to make this shift?
Well, I think it’s just, maybe it was catastrophizing, thinking that, oh, if I ask for something, the other person’s going to be so insanely reactive that they’re going to want to rupture all ties or something, which is insane. That’s never happened to me. Really, the worst thing they can say is no, and that’s how I operate now. It’s good to exercise even thinking about what that looks like for you. What does fair compensation look like for you? Because, I felt like for a lot of time, I was just waiting for somebody to tell me, to be like, “Oh, this is what we give you.” If you just learn how to negotiate, you usually can get a little bit more, or everything that you wanted, and very rarely is it a hard no. Then, if it’s a hard no, you can decide if it’s worth any of it.
In terms of when you are working on a poem or a project or a film and it’s there, you’ve done it, how do you know when that feels ready?
It’s very personal. I generally don’t show work until it’s done unless I want feedback, but each process is different. Filmmaking is very communal, and it’s very collaborative, so it’s very natural to share multiple drafts and stuff of scripts and things with your producers or trusted people. With art, sometimes I’ll ask my husband. We share a studio and he’s an artist, too, and so we talk about that. I’ll ask him for feedback sometimes, but for the most part, I feel like I know when it’s done. It’s when I feel like, as I try to put myself in the position of the audience, and if I were to look at it, how would I assess it? I’m very strict, I have very definitive things that I look for that I find make me feel that it’s complete, it’s my own inner critic. Satisfying my own inner critic. When my inner critic is satisfied, then I feel like the work is done.
Are you willing to share some of your very strict rules that you have?
Don’t be lame, don’t be corny. The craft has to be there. I feel like I’m just such a craft snob. I just don’t respect people that don’t… I mean, whatever, it’s your thing if you don’t care about it, but it’s like, if you know about it, you know it when you see it. Also, every masterpiece has incorporated so much craft into it, and there’s no way that you can do it without thinking about it. Very rare, I think. I definitely have my own checklist across painting, film, poetry. Like, is it clean? Everything absolutely has to be there. If there’s anything that doesn’t have to be there, it doesn’t belong there. Making sure that it’s well-made on top of everything. Don’t sell yourself short. This is your product. This is what you’re giving to the world. There’s nothing worse than wasting a person’s time. People who spend time reading a book or watching a movie or going out of their way to go to a museum or art show to see something, why would you waste their time, but also waste your own time? Why would you waste your own time to not ask yourself these questions? It’s just, I’m a very rigorous person, I guess is what I want to say, and I expect this of other people, and I expect it of myself, so I’m not lax with myself, because when it’s there, it’s there.
It’s about being hard on yourself, but in the right way, right?
Yeah, because you don’t want to be hard enough that you don’t do anything. It’s really having the kind of distance where you can really be clear. Don’t have a big ego, because if you have a big ego, you’re setting yourself up for a lot of failure. I don’t think things should feel too easy. Sometimes things are easy and they’re flowing, but I mean, there’s so much that we digest culturally and in media, visually, words. We consume so much, so you want to be able to distill or separate the stuff that your brain is just processing from what your actual expression is, versus repeating another expression. Or maybe this expression feels normal because of our societal roles or something, but you don’t realize that your expression is hurtful to other people, because you’re not thinking about your societal role. It’s hard articulate. I’ve never really had to think about it in this way, but I just expect the same for myself as what I expect from the things that I love most, that I feel are really moving, strong works, and that’s what I aspire to do, is to make really strong, moving works. I see it as an Olympian challenge.
Some Things
Cristine Brache Recommends:
The books: God With Revolver by René Ricard, Making Of by Mara Mckevitt, and The Kiss by Kathryn Harrison.
The film, Funeral Parade of Roses (1969) by Toshio Matsumoto.
Weegee’s 1940s photo series of New York City’s moviegoers entitled, Movie Theaters and Kohei Yushiyuki’s 1970s photo series, The Park.
The song “Cowboys and Angels” by George Michael.
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levi-my-beloved · 2 years ago
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Chapter Two: The Ackerbond Hurts
Pairing: Canon!Levi x F!Reader
Warnings: Self hatred, panic attacks, brief mention of suicide,
A/N: i. love. writing. this. series. and you all seem to love it too!!!! please the love chapter one received was incredible, and i honestly cannot thank everyone enough for the response <3
as always please thank @peace-for-levi for the fantastic job she does beta reading, and turning my word vomit into something coherent, and thank @levmada for the original concept <3
CRASH COURSE POKER VOCAB: Texas (Krolva) Hold'Em: type of game, To Fold: to not longer play the round, Flop: Three initial cards drawn, River: The fifth card in the flop, Royal Flush: having an Ace, King, Queen, Jack, Ten, Three of a kind: having three of the same card, Call: to match the raised bet, Check: to continue the round with no raised bets.
taglist: @levmada @awesomeness1679 @purplecandygerl @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @pluvio-pluto @midnightbarnes97 @aresclouds @imkumichan @xxpadfootxx @cmjh3 @justa19 @notgoodforlife @leviackermanmyhero245 @kaea-peverall @jakillski @macaronnv @natalie-skz @oldtownwonderland @snailsposts
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You didn’t speak of what happened that day. You couldn’t. You had far too many questions, and you knew Levi would give far too few answers. How did he know, was your first one? How did he know you needed help? No, not even that. How did he preempt knowing you would need help? When you’d spotted him barrelling towards you, there was no way he would have made it in time unless he’d set off before you’d even been caught. You’d seen where he went, he was too far away to make it at such short notice. So how did he know?
The second was whatever the hell happened after. He’d held you, and wouldn’t let go. He’d held you as you regained your shaky breath, and willed your limbs to stop trembling. He’d held you as you fought down the primal urge to scream, to release all your pent up terror and adrenaline, as you tried so hard not to vomit all over his shirt. Held you as you could do nothing but bury your face in his chest and just breathe, gulping down oxygen like it was going out of fashion. He hadn’t said anything, he just did what he promised, and held you. Tight.
And then he let go, as if nothing had happened. As if your heart wasn’t in your throat, and not from your near death experience. He’d let go and gently rolled you off him, wincing at a pain you couldn’t see. One he’d saved you from. And one you wish you were feeling instead. It was all you could do to nod when he’d asked if you were alright. It was all you could do to stare at the ground, trying to remember the exact order of events that just took place. They were already a blurr. 
But Levi had already risen to his feet, dusting himself off as the rest of your squad trickled in. First Gunther, with a flurry of apologies and a helping hand to get you off the ground. Then an extremely concerned Eld, who instantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder the moment he saw you weren’t hurt, offering nothing but worried glances and soothing words. Petra and Oluo trailed behind, not knowing what the fuck had just happened. Neither did you, if you were being honest, so you left the explaining up to Gunther as Eld escorted you to somewhere quiet.
“I’m just glad you’re alive.” He kept saying, and you mulled his words over in your head. 
Was Levi glad you were alive? He seemed anything but when he just walked away. He seemed borderline irritated with you, inconvenienced by your successful attempt to save Gunther’s life. You’d landed in the best possible outcome so, why the hell was he annoyed with you?
“Would you say I’m a nuisance?” Your question came out of the blue, so out of the blue that Eld asked you to repeat yourself, before scoffing in your face.
“Are you kidding? A nuisance? You? Do you realise how far this squad has come because of you? How far I’ve come because of you? We’re all able to work so well together because. Of. You. And you’re questioning whether or not you’re a nuisance?” Well, when he put it like that, you couldn’t help but scoff along with him. He hadn’t left your side since he came over after Levi had left you. And you weren’t about to explain that you were only feeling this way because of him. You had far too many unanswered questions to plunge into that tangled mess right now.
“I guess.” You sighed, leaning into the blonde’s embrace. Sometimes the lines between you two did fade into romanticism, not that you ever minded. Neither did he, if the way he simply held you tighter was anything to judge upon. 
“You almost died. It’s normal to feel this kind of self doubt. Especially after having to be saved by the Captain of all people,”
“Oh, cheers. Really working to make me feel better there.” You quipped sarcastically, drawing a relieved chuckle from your comrade. Knowing you were now okay, Eld removed his arm from your shoulder. Cute, platonically romantic moment over with then, you guessed. 
“But you did save Gunther’s life. You know what he’s like. Expect some weird doll wielding a pitchfork and missing several teeth at your doorstep as a thank you.” It hurt to laugh, you swiftly discovered. Like someone was squeezing your ribs a bit too hard. But you laughed all the same. It was why you liked to stick around him. Eld always had a special way of making you laugh. In the same weird way Levi did when you were alone with him. Less so in a social setting. 
You hadn’t realised how far you’d wandered before Petra came cantering up the hill on her horse, looking between you two with her all-too-familiar look of innocence. Much like what she did in the courtyard earlier that morning; you narrowed your eyes in challenge, daring her to ask. She mimicked your tight smile.
“Eld, you’re needed back at the camp. Hange says she’s finally found her two ‘babies’, which is a terrifying thought,” – she dismounted from her ride, handing the reins over to him– “take Squeak, I’ll walk back.” Eld nodded, swiftly turning back to give you a tight hug.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” He said again, making you consider once more whether certain other members of your squad were just as glad. You huffed a long, heavy sigh as he mounted Petra’s horse, turned heel, and took off at a canter, leaving you alone with the Red-Head Inquisition. 
“Luckily for you, you almost just died. So I’ll refrain from battering you with teasing until a later date. You’re welcome.” Okay, laughing really hurt. You grit your teeth against the throbs of pain, grasping the side of your ribs. How the hell you’d ended up so injured, you had no idea. But Petra wasn’t about to let your discomfort go. “Okay, lift up your jumper, let’s see the damage before I decide whether to shove you on the medical wagon or not.” 
You loved Petra. So damn much. 
Bunching the thick fabric in your hands, you raised it as far as you could under your harness, wincing as it pushed painfully against the tender area. Though Petra looked puzzled, even asking you to remove your tan jacket so she could see a little better. 
“There’s… there’s nothing here. No bruises, no discolouring, not even a scratch… are you sure you’re in pain? It could just be psychological, I’ve heard of phantom pains when you think something should be hurting but–”
“Pet, trust me, I’m in pain. Maybe it’s just not showing yet? Could just be in the developing stages.” Though you sounded unconvinced. Surely, with this degree of pain, something should be showing. But you ran your fingers over where it hurt most, and couldn’t feel a single bump. You exchanged a confused glance with the girl, who looked at you sceptically.
“Well, we should probably have the medics check you out anyway, but I’m telling you, there’s nothing there.”
“In your professional medical opinion?” You asked dryly, yanking your hoodie back down so she couldn’t prod or poke you any further.
“Exactly. In my professional medical opinion, I diagnose you with being dramatic.” 
You snorted, gently hitting her with your forearm. Before that too throbbed in complaint and you couldn’t control yet another grimace. Though you loved Petra, you cursed her for being so observant. 
“Alright, roll up your sleeve. Walls, you’re like a reluctant toddler.” 
Though you really were reluctant about this one. You’d taken a quick glance at the yellowish bruising on your forearm, and it was obviously not from any titan, and was much harder to explain. “It’s fine Pet, let’s just head back, we’re already too far from camp and if we run into titans out here, we’re fucked.” You huffed, already beginning the long walk back down the hill to where you could see a makeshift strategy tent had been erected, as well as several smaller medical tents. But, once again, Petra wasn’t having any of it, and you swore you would have similar bruising on your other arm from how hard she snatched at it to stop you.
“Absolutely not. Sleeve. Up. Now.” 
You sighed, contemplating making a run for it. Though in your current phantom condition, you didn’t think you’d make it very far before tripping and rolling down the second half. So you conceded, holding out your arm for her to roughly tug up your sleeve. “Fuck! Ow Petra, that fucking hurt, some medical professional you are.” Though the micro-second Petra didn’t respond to your jab, dread pooled in your gut. Her face dropped, suddenly far too serious for your liking. 
“Where did you get these?” You’d never heard her so curt, so clipped. Every syllable spat as if they were venomous. But you shut your mouth, refusing to respond until she pushed further, spitting your name. “Where did you get these? Or rather, who did you get these from?”
“Drop it, Pet.” Your voice didn’t nearly have the conviction in it you wanted.
“I’m serious. How long have you had these?” 
You jerked your head up, horrified at what she was implying. “I got them today, I promise. When working with the Captain, he just grabbed me too hard, that’s all. A bit like you’re doing right now, so could you chill the fuck out?” You tried to lighten the tension with a halfhearted smile as she let go of your other arm. You used it to swiftly pull down your sleeve, gripping it in your palm. You hated it when Petra worried about you. You hated it when anyone worried about you, in fact. It was unnecessary and irritating. 
Though totally fine when you did it.
Petra sighed, coming to terms with the fact she was fighting a losing battle. She knew how fiercely protective you were over Levi’s reputation, but she also knew you were honest when it mattered. There wasn’t anything more to this than what you were telling her. And she was going to trust you on that. 
“Alright. As long as you promise you’ll get some salve on it the moment we get back to HeadQuarters. And get your weird rib thing looked at when we get back to the tent. Ooo, actually, get some salve at the tent if they have some, maybe the bruising will go down by this evening.”
You nodded as you both finally started returning to the makeshift camp. You would see if the medics had any kind of soothing balm for your arm, if only to prevent seeing Levi’s face if he were to catch sight of the bruising.
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Levi stood with his arms folded in the strategy tent, face like thunder, gritting his teeth against the occasional throb of his badly bruised ribs and weird arm pain. He knew the guilt he would feel for hurting you would consume him, but he wasn’t quite expecting physical pain to accompany the mental one. He was all for paying penance, but this was a bit much if he was being honest. The emotional agony of knowing you’d been marked because of him simply wasn’t enough – apparently – despite his mind additionally torturing him with mental images of what would have happened had he not made it in time. He could hear your screaming ringing in his ears, could feel your fruitless struggle against an iron grip, the desperation in his own soul as he watched himself fail, over and over again. Your voice cut off with a sickening crack. Levi suppressed a flinch. 
Why? Why the fuck was he seeing these things? Why was he hearing them? He was barely present in the room, only vaguely aware of Hange muttering to themselves, followed by her sombre looking assistant. Why did his head insist on ripping his heart out repeatedly, only to stitch it back together with the memory of holding you? With the recognition that you were in fact, still alive. He hadn’t lost you. He hadn’t failed. Was this some kind of prevention? Some kind of sick twisted way for his body to tell him not to let you get into that kind of situation again? Some fucked up instinct that was hell bent on keeping you safe? 
He briefly thought back to Kenny, for some reason. The bastard didn’t tell him much about who he was, but he seemed to know enough about his last name. All Levi knew was that he had some kind of connection to Ackermans before him. That was all the sleezy fuck told him. Although how he even knew that, Levi didn’t know. Probably something to do with his mother. 
He didn’t want to think about it anymore. At least the headache had stopped.
Hange cleared their throat, still pouring over maps spread across a wooden table, small pins stabbed into the parchment detailing what looked like a differing path back to the Wall. Moblit stayed silent, clearly reading the tension in the room. The unspoken barrage of temporary hatred between the Captain and the Scientist. But Hange looked resigned. “We’ll go via the river, that way we only have our left to look out for. The rapids are strong enough to knock over a five metre, and we’ll be alerted to anything bigger than that sooner rather than later.” 
Levi held no sympathy for them. You almost died today. That wasn’t something he was going to forgive anytime soon. But if Hange didn’t return with at least one titan in their grasp, he would kill them himself.
“We’re retreating already? After everything we sacrificed today? After the lives you sacrificed on this stupid fucking ordeal? No, we’ll capture one on the way back.” His tone left no room for debate, and Moblit seemed to take this as a signal to leave before things inevitably got messy. 
Hange sighed, pushing their goggles up onto their forehead. “Levi, it’s not worth it. People–”
They couldn’t finish before Levi grabbed them by the lapels of their jacket, and tugged them dangerously close. “Shut the fuck up, shitty glasses. It’s gone past the point where you get to decide what to do with the lives of my comrades. If you didn’t get so caught up in your fucking head, you would have seen the bullshit you pulled today. Though I have no problem beating the shit out of you, maybe it’ll knock some sense into you. 
“Do you have any idea who we almost lost today? The entirety of Miche’s Squad was almost wiped out because you couldn’t get your head out your ass for two fucking seconds to see the bigger picture. The lives of my squad were endangered because of you and your hellbent desire on capturing one of these fucks. So we’re gonna do what we came here to do, then we’re going the fuck home. Got it?”  Hange’s eyes were almost comically wide, listening to Levi’s tirade of utter fury. There was a part of him that wanted to mention your sacrifice, a part of him that wanted to explain every excruciating detail of what he saw, just to watch their expression morph into unconsolable guilt.
But even he wasn’t that cruel. That was his burden to bear, and his alone. 
Hange took a breath, and exhaled all the tension that had creeped into their shoulders. A more serene, relaxed look smoothing their creased brow and wide eyes. They looked refreshed.
“Yeah, got it. Thanks Levi. I needed that.” 
It seemed Levi wasn’t the only one who felt the need to pay penance for what he did today. A feeling he understood so completely, he let go of their jacket. Though he felt no desire for further conversation with them.
“Tch, just sort your shit out and get us home before anyone else dies.” He spat, before turning on his heel and storming out from the tent, instantly breathing in the fresher air of the outside. A reprieve of almost two whole seconds before his heart sank again. You were emerging from the medical tent with Petra in tow, and a bandage wrapped around your arm. Speaking of which, his own weird ache had finally calmed down. He subtly prodded the area on his forearm, finding no pain retaliating. Curious, he touched the supposed bruise on his ribs.
Oh okay, that was most definitely still there. Though his head snapped back to you as he heard your quiet “ow”. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you? There was nothing there! The medic literally just checked you over and found no trace of injury. Are you faking it to get Eld’s attention or something?” 
Your look of sheer indignation to Petra had him silently chuckling, content to briefly watch your exchange.
“Okay let’s slow down for a second. Firstly, I wouldn’t need to fake a fucking injury to get Eld’s attention. Secondly, I don’t particularly want Eld’s attention for crying out loud, that’s just something you and Nanaba have made up to keep yourselves entertained when you get bored of lamenting about your own love lives. And thirdly, I’m not. Fucking. Faking it. It seriously hurts, and I have no idea why.” You looked desperate for some kind of explanation, and he couldn’t blame you. He too wanted an explanation for the unexplainable pain in his arm. Though he sort of knew what that was. The powers of crushing guilt never ceased to morbidly amaze him. 
“Whatever you say. Where is the squad anyway? Thought they’d be here to welcome you back.” 
You threw her a confused glance. “I thought you said Hange had found her– oh I fucking hate you.”
“What?”
“That was a lie wasn’t it?” You sighed when she responded with a slightly sheepish look– “Petra! Fuck’s sake! Why am I not allowed to have other friends?” You asked, though Levi could see there was nothing but gentle teasing in your tone, the same faux petulance he saw from you last night. It warmed him, despite everything.
“Because I’m greedy and I want you all to myself.” Petra responded, lightly tapping the tip of your nose with her index finger in the most condescending manner Levi had ever seen you put up with. Visions of you borderline dislocating the shoulders of men who had done that to you previously flashed in his head. The weirdest sense of pride flared in his chest at the thought. 
“At least buy me dinner first.” You muttered, though your fond smile refused to dampen. Levi hadn’t noticed he’d been staring until you glanced his way, and he saw you double take before instantly stiffening. Petra, clearly noting your sudden shift, followed your eye-line, and nodded with the understanding that this was about to be an awkward exchange. 
“Captain.” Both you and Petra saluted, though your wince wasn’t didn’t go unnoticed. Neither did his. 
“At ease. Petra, you did well today, I’ll be pairing you with Oluo more often from now on.” The red-head nodded, bringing her fist down from her chest. You looked as if you would rather be anywhere else but in this current conversation, and Levi couldn’t help the slight pang of hurt at the idea. He understood that today hadn’t been very easy, but what he didn’t understand was how that affected your relationship. Were you really that eager to sacrifice yourself, to the point where you were mad at him for saving you? No, you weren’t illogical, nor suicidal. At least not to his knowledge. 
“Thank you, Sir. He listens surprisingly well when on the field.” Petra smiled brightly, but you detected the slightest hint of a hidden smirk on her face. Retching in front of your superior officer probably wouldn’t be very appropriate, so you kept your repulsion silent. What Oluo and Petra did when behind closed doors was a secret you very much didn’t want to be privy to. 
“We have about half an hour before we’re packing up and heading back, so rest up. Four Eyes wants to capture one by the river, where it’s less dangerous and we only have the left side to worry about.” 
You exchanged a quick look with Petra at his words. You knew it was her dismissal, since he hadn’t even looked at you, but you silently begged her not to heed it. Silently pleaded with her to wait until he had dismissed you both. 
But she returned your begging with an apologetic glance, before saluting again. “Yes Sir, I’ll inform the rest of the squad.” Was all she said, before she left you. Alone. With a man you swore couldn’t be bothered with your existence right now. You clenched your jaw, standing in deafening silence. 
Levi didn’t even know where to start. Should he ask if you were okay? You obviously were, no serious injuries to count for. Should he take you somewhere quieter to talk to you? That sounded too suspicious, and way too noticeable. Maybe he should ask about your ribs. Yeah, he’d heard your conversation with Petra, you were still in pain from something that didn’t seem to be there. Maybe it was internal, maybe something had fractured or broken and it just wasn’t showing yet. Oh shit, what if something had ruptured? Fuck, you shouldn’t even be standing if that had happened, what the hell were you doing idly chatting to Petra with internal bleeding? Fucking shit you should be–
“Captain?” 
Levi had never really considered himself to be an overthinker until this moment, where he was broken out of his trance by that little concerned pinch of your brow. He’d always managed to keep a clear head, never letting his thoughts run away like that. So why now was he freaking the fuck out over something that was highly unlikely. You didn’t even look injured. You were fine. He was fine. You were both fine. 
“Captain…?” you pressed.
“Mm?” Levi finally found it in him to respond, though no words seemed to present themself. All he could manage was a hum of acknowledgement. Still, it seemed to blend the worry from your brows, just hearing him respond easing your tension slightly. 
“Have you been checked over?” You asked, quickly scanning his body for any sign of discomfort. Though you knew it was fruitless. You knew he’d learned to hide any kind of physical discomfort extremely well, choosing instead to ignore any kind of pain in favour of getting a job done. It would be admirable if it didn’t piss you off so much. How fucking hard was it to take a quick break to get yourself checked over for crying out loud? 
“What?”
“Have you been checked over? By the medics?” 
“Oh. No.”
You bristled, breathing out an irritated sigh. You don’t know why you even got your hopes up. Of course he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t if you didn’t drag him into the tent yourself. And you would have done, had this happened yesterday. But now… now you weren’t so sure. You weren’t sure how he would react to such a causal display of closeness between you two. Not when he kept blowing hot and cold like this. It left your head spinning and your stomach twisting. 
“I would suggest doing that… Sir.” You almost forgot your formalities, despite your situation. Mainly because you didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking right now, and reading these tones was impossible. Levi blinked at you blankly, and you couldn’t help but wonder whether this was what it was like talking to a brick wall. Was this how water felt when it ran off a duck’s back? You almost pitied the rain. 
You bit your tongue to stop yourself from snapping at him, and instead backed up into the medical tent, turning slightly to part the two canvas flaps. It felt like you were trying to entice a scared kitten from under a bed, trying to encourage him out by showing him that it was okay. Being checked by a fucking medic was okay. He was allowed to look after himself once in a while.
It wasn’t that Levi was reluctant. More that he didn’t know how the fuck to handle this situation. He was at an utter loss. This was exactly the same situation as last night, where you just switched at the drop of a hat.  He didn’t know what to make of it, and it had stunned him into paralysis. Where he simply couldn’t move or speak, because he was stuck just deciphering you. 
“Captain.” You were getting sick of this now. If he really hated you that much, he shouldn’t have saved you. Did he realise that after he’d held you for minutes upon long minutes? Was that what he was contemplating? Whether or not to feed you to the next titan he came across. Fine. You would live with that. You would bury everything that had happened, bury any sense of familiarity you felt when around him, but first he had to see the fucking medic.
Levi wordlessly stepped forward into the tent, skin buzzing as he passed you, like an excited moth before a smouldering lamp. Did you know you had that effect on him?
“Captain Levi! What can I do for you, sir?” The poor overworked medic was still packing away her things from when you’d arrived earlier. Salves, bandages, a small splint, though you thought the last one was a bit excessive. Though when her eyes landed on you, you felt a little sheepish. You’d insisted earlier there was something wrong with your ribs, since they still fucking hurt, but she’d gotten a little annoyed with you when she kept finding nothing. “If you’re back to ask me to look at your ribs again, I’m just going to send you away.” She added flatly, her hands placed firmly on her hips as she regarded you with nothing but discontent.
“Ah, no. Not mine this time. His.” You gestured to Levi who seemed to have found the fucking cheek to look bored right now. Arms folded, regarding the medic like she was the last person he wanted to be seeing right now. She seemed utterly unphased.
“Right, more phantom rib injuries or is this one real this time?” You stopped briefly to wonder where she stored all that audacity, but luckily for you, it seemed Levi didn’t have the patience for her attitude either.
“Considering it’s me, we’re talking about, I’ll leave that deduction up to you.” You stole a quick glance at him. So now he speaks up. Once again, you bit your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d successfully pissed you off. If that was even satisfying to him. 
But his scathing comment seemed to have pushed back her attitude, and she instantly started to unpack the equipment she’d just put away, asking him politely to remove his jacket and to unbutton his shirt. You took this as your cue to leave, glad he was too preoccupied with something else to blankly stare at you anymore. But you barely managed to turn around, before;
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” 
The colour drained from your face. “I just, I thought you would want some privacy, Sir.” Why was it all of a sudden so difficult to hold your voice steady? Even clenching your jaw, you could feel your throat wavering as you sucked in a breath. 
“Tch, don’t you play strip poker with everyone else?” Vaguely you registered the surprised squeak of the medic.
“I– well, yes Sir, but you don’t tend to join us, so I didn’t know if it was uncomfortable for you or not.” Your reasoning had his heart bursting. Why were you always so considerate towards him? It was irritating… kind of.
“Did it occur to you that I might not be joining in because of the several mountains of paperwork in my office?”
You couldn’t help it this time. “Did it occur to you that both Hange and Miche manage to take a fucking break once in a while and spend time with their respective squads. Hange being a goddamn Section Commander?” You bit back, glaring razors at his paused form. You took a second to collect yourself, and instantly felt bad about the bite. You knew how hard he worked, it plagued you both everyday. And you knew he worked so he could make sure he had enough time to train with his squad. To make sure none of you fucking died out here. Well, most of you. “Sorry. That was unnecessary of me, Sir. I apologise.”
“Stop being so fucking formal. It’s grating when it comes from you,” 
You tried not to take offence, though it was difficult when he’d done nothing but treat you with indifference since he left you on the field. You couldn’t deflect this anymore. After a while, the little jabs start to pierce through your thick skin. You were normally good at returning them with jabs or quips of your own, but you’d almost just died and now the one person you thought you were closest to now couldn’t care less about your existence. You were tired, and now you were just hurt.
“Right. Yeah, sorry.” 
Even the medic looked up at that. You hadn’t meant to sound so downcast, but you were rapidly losing control over your expression. With your eyes on the ground, you didn’t see the way Levi’s eyes widened slightly, didn’t see the way his mouth parted in subtle consternation. He went to say something, but whatever words he had died on his tongue as he watched you wince. Not from something said, but rather something felt. It was the same moment the medic sat him down on the camp bed and put slight pressure on the blossoming purple bruise down his side. He glanced at her, only for his gaze to linger. She looked puzzled. Extremely puzzled.
“This is… okay well, first of all your ribs are cracked. I would advise not to engage in any further combat today. And secondly, well, this is exactly what you were describing” – she turned to look at you, completely baffled – “right down to the shaping. As in, where you were pointing on your side, that’s exactly what’s happened here. It’s… uncanny.”
You had literally nothing to say. What the hell could you say? All you’d done is point to where you’d felt pain. How the fuck that correlated with Levi’s own injury, you couldn’t explain. But it scared you, for some reason. It scared you.
The room fell into an eerie silence as the medic continued her work, applying the same salve to his ribs as she did to your arm, and bandaging up his torso. It was only after she’d left, clearly sensing the tension in the tent, did you finally voice what had been on your mind for over an hour now.
“You didn’t have to save me, you know.” 
Levi froze at your matter-of-fact words, hands halfway through buttoning up his shirt paused as he looked back at you. Deciphering his emotions right now would have taken days of careful study, so he reacted with the most instinctual one. Indifferent irritation. It seemed to have worked so far.
“The hell are you talking about?”
“You could have just let me go. It just- I don’t know, I don’t think it was worth the burden. Or your ribs. If this happens again, or something similar, if it’s going to cause you this much discomfort just… let it go. I’m not saying I’m not grateful! I am, I am grateful, but you don’t seem to–” you caught yourself before you said anything out of line. Not realising the line was crossed the second you suggested he just let you die. And now he was pissed. No scratch that, Levi was furious. This was the first time he’d ever felt this kind of anger towards you, and he fucking hated it. How could you casually say shit like that? What kind of fucked up joke was this? How the fuck could you so easily jest about losing your own life? He turned round, facing you now and preparing to fire off on you, before he caught sight of your face.
You weren’t joking. You were being serious. Dead serious. 
You really thought he didn’t care about you. But you didn’t seem upset, just resigned. How the hell had he managed to fuck up this badly? To the point where you were genuinely serious about how disposable you thought you were. It dampened his rage like a wet rag on a campfire. Every instinct tore at him to hold you like he did earlier. To reassure you again and again that this wasn’t the case. You meant more to him than you would ever know. A pressing weight squeezed his chest, tightening around his heart and slowly constricting. 
He didn’t understand why you were saying this. Why you’d lost that spark he’d seen earlier today, and he had been seeing for the years he’d known you. But you’d lost it. And fuck if that didn’t hurt. He wanted to make it better. Make it go away. Whatever pain you were feeling, he didn’t care, he just wanted to make it okay again. 
“Don’t be fucking stupid.” I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I lost you today. “You think you can just throw your life away because you assume it would be the most convenient option?” I care about you too much to let you do that, to let you ever do that. “Say something that stupid again and you’re not coming on the next expedition.” I can’t bear to hear you talk about yourself like that, you matter so much more than you realise.  
But he could see you were drowning. See you’d been snagged by whatever you believed, and it was pulling you under. Dragging you down to a place he couldn’t reach you. You weren’t looking at him, he didn’t even think you were listening to him. Eyes hollow as you stared at the ground a few feet in front of you. 
He knew you were reliving the moment you’d been caught. He knew you were watching different events unfold, a what-could-have-been scenario. He knew because he’d seen it too. But the idea of you becoming comfortable with that outcome terrified the shit out of him, and the longer you lost yourself to that trance, the more likely your death would become less harrowing to you. And the more petrifying it became for him. 
Calling your name didn't work. He just tried twice. Your eyes were widening the more you sank, white noise invading your ears as you found yourself no longer in the medical tent, but back out on the field. Had you blacked out? How the fuck did you manage to be back out in the field? And how long had you been fighting a titan? The movements were startlingly familiar, you’d performed these exact manoeuvres today with Gunther. An exact echo of your earlier fight. Even to the point where–
You couldn’t feel the collision with your comrade. Couldn’t hear him shout your name. Couldn’t feel the suffocating grasp around your body as you were snatched from the sky. But it was fine, you’d realised this was just a memory now. You’d blacked out in the tent, and you were dreaming. It’s fine, he wouldn’t let you die. He was coming. You didn’t die here. 
Any moment now, you’d be falling again. 
Any second. Any… any……
You started to panic, breath quickening, heart thundering. This was it. You did die here after all. Levi wasn’t coming, this wasn’t a dream. He’d weighed up the situation and found you worth less than the consequences. And it was that thought, that paradoxical knife of contented agony that put you at ease. This was the choice he would regret least: letting you go. Gunther was safe, and the price was low. So you embraced the pool of dread in the pit of your stomach, and savoured the sound of your own bones cracking under the force of–
“Hey, hey, you still with me?” Levi had taken your arm and squeezed gently, not enough for the pain of your bruise to throb, but enough to bring you back to him. And though you blinked at him, your breathing didn’t slow. Your trembling didn’t cease. 
Your heart was beating so hard you could feel it in your gut. Could feel the relentless pounding at the base of your chest. Everything was too bright here. Everything was too loud. You couldn’t focus, unable to decipher reality from fiction. You stared wide eyed ahead of you, lost amongst shades of blue and grey. 
That was when Levi started to really worry. When you couldn’t focus on his voice. When your eyes would refuse to see him. You were clawing up to the surface, only to find a glass ceiling. You were trapped. Trapped in this minimal space between what came to be and what could have been. The sound of your own shattering bones wove with a baritone voice you knew you needed to follow. But it kept disappearing, and you were tugged back into your nightmare. 
He could feel it. How hard you were fighting. He could feel every attempt you made to break free of whatever held you. Levi didn’t question it because it felt so instinctual. Every desperate lunge for his mind felt natural, though it was something he would mull over much, much later. He kept his voice and hands steady until he felt you finally latch on with a good enough grip.
“You’re okay. You’re safe now, you’re with me. You’re alright, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, okay? I’m right here, you can come back now, it’s safe I promise. You’re okay, you’re alive. You’re alive.” He didn’t question how he knew what to say. Didn’t question how he knew you were following him back to reality. Didn’t question whatever had drowned you so deep he had to jump in after you. But he swore that was never happening again. Under no circumstances was he ever letting you doubt him, or yourself, again. Not if these were the consequences. 
You felt like you were being peeled from an oil-spill, your mind finally releasing you with a satisfying pop. The white noise in your ears faded away, and your eyes focused on Levi’s. Slowly your heart came down from its racing beat, though kept fluttering in a way you knew wasn’t as desperately terrifying. “What the fuck was that…?” you whispered, too stunned to make any attempts to move away when Levi hesitantly, gently guided your chin so he could search your face for any kind of injury. He knew he wouldn’t find anything, but he just had to make sure. “Did you see that too…?”
Levi stopped, once again having no idea how to deal with this situation. An all consuming panic attack brought on by the crushing weight of existential dread, sure. Easy. A simple question such as this? Levi was back to square one. 
But you took his silence as confirmation. He had seen something, at least. And it honestly made you feel a little better. Though you still had to ask; “Would you have done it? If you could go back and do it again, would you have done it?”
He understood the question instantly. He’d been asking himself the same ever since he caught you. Since he’d seen his own nightmare sequence back in the strategy tent. Not his first, not by a long way. Would he have let you die? If he could have seen the consequences, would he have let you go? If the circumstances had been any different, and his own life had been on the line to save yours, would he have been able to watch you die? Each answer came without a shadow of a doubt.
“No. I would choose you. Every single time.” 
Fuck did he want to kiss you.   
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Hange finally got what they wanted. A five metre and a fifteen metre. Although luring them back proved difficult. The five metre was easily subdued, but needed regular dismembering to make sure it wouldn’t go for any soldiers. The fifteen metre was a little trickier. Though the spring triggered nets worked well, they weren’t strong enough to hold the strength of that kind of titan. Soldiers took shifts to become bait for this thing, riding ahead whilst trying to keep the balance of interest. You were stifling your nerves since you were up next, knowing the second you saw the green smoke, you’d once again be the subject of delicious interest for a titan. But a minute before you were due to replace Petra, Levi separated from the group, only to return with ‘word from Hange’.
“You’re injured and so, excused. Oluo, you’re up.” Though it grated on your nerves a little, you knew now why. Deciphering Levi’s “confession” in the medical tent had taken the entire journey back so far. There was no deception in his eyes. Nothing but earnest honesty. He didn’t regret what he did. And he really would have done it again, given the chance. You understood now, so you didn’t argue. 
Closer to the wall, the titan’s arms and legs were severed, and a net was secured over its hulking body. You didn’t envy the poor horses that had to cart this thing through Trost district. But it was only once you were finally back at HeadQuarters could you relax. You sat in the communal lounge with your squad, nursing a small glass of whiskey despite the early afternoon hours. Though, when one is a Scout, one doesn’t tend to adhere to a drinking schedule. 
Eld had taken a seat next to you, shuffling a deck of cards in his hand. It was one of his habits, you realised. When something was playing on his mind, he needed to have something to fiddle with. Whether that be a deck of cards, the lapel of his jacket, the clasp of his cloak or the triggers on his gear. 
You gently took the deck from his hands, placing down on the short table between the two leather couches. He refused to look at you, and you knew then he was thinking about what happened today. Glancing up at Gunther, and it was obvious he, too, was reliving it.
“Guys, I’m fine. I’m alive, and we’re all safe. We don’t need to dwell on it. Please.” None of them responded to you for a moment, opting instead to sit in silence, until Eld took his hand from yours.
“You’re too trigger-happy with your life. I– None of us would cope very well if you’d died out there today, and I’ll bet you anything Captain Levi thinks the same. We just–”
“Stop being fucking stupid and sacrificing yourself to save us.” You looked up to Petra, who had a scowl on her face. Gunther and Oluo exchanged glances, and you knew they were thinking the same. Your face fell. How were you supposed to do that? You would do anything for these four people, and your protective tendencies don’t just extend to the people in this room. Hange, Nanaba, Nifa, Miche, Moblit… all of them. Even Erwin, when he poked his toupé out his office. And, of course, Levi. You would both fight and die for him happily. You didn’t want to stop doing that. Why would you?
“It’s kinda selfish, ya know?” 
Your heart cracked as you turned your head back to the blonde beside you. You never thought he was capable of saying something so harsh… “Eld?”
“It is. None of us want to wind up dead, but that pales in comparison to having someone sacrifice themselves for us. We know you’ve always done it, considered your life worth less than the rest of ours but, please. Stop.” You clenched your fists as he looked at you with utter melancholic desperation. You glanced to see your squad-mates all looking at you with the same expression. Pausing in thought, you considered their point of view. If someone were to do that for you, if any of them were to do that for you…
If Levi was to do that for you…
You’d never forgive him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think, I just–”
“We know. Don’t worry, we know.” Eld took your hand back, before abandoning that all together and encasing your shoulders in his arms. Your comrades took that as their cue, and one by one came and joined the embrace, Petra tugging on a strand of your hair before completing the small group hug. Until the stench of egg permeated the air, and you all quickly separated, coughing and retching. You bolted for the window.
“Fuck’s sake Gunther, we couldn’t have a nice moment for five fucking minutes?” Petra reprimanded, covering her nose and mouth with her jacket. 
You burst open the window, gulping down as much fresh evening air as you could before you turned back to the room. Petra with her jacket hiding half her face, Oluo waving his cravat around like he could somehow clear the air around him. Gunther sitting back comfortably on the couch, feet kicked up on the small coffee table, grinning from ear to ear. And Eld, who seemed to be looking at you with a soft smile. 
“You alright?” He mouthed, cautious of the others in the room who may be watching. You smiled, thinking for a moment, before nodding. 
“Yeah, now I am.” It seemed good enough for him, dipping his head in confirmation just as the door swung open. Everyone stopped what they were doing, frozen to the spot. Oluo’s whirling cravat fell limp in his hand, softly hitting the side of his head from where he was swinging it above him. You all met eyes with the group on the other side of the door, who all looked a little dishevelled. Hange, eyes bright and glasses askew. Moblit, who looked as worried as ever. Nanaba and Nifa, with matching expressions of bafflement. And Miche, who was scrunching his nose, clearly able to smell what had just happened. 
“Do we even want to know?” Nanaba asked, arms folded across her chest.
“Gunther shit himself.” Eld responded casually, earning himself a bark of laughter from you, and an indignant snort from the culprit himself.
“Oh. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Everyone in a circle on the floor. Eld, snatch that deck of cards for us would you?” Hange produced two bottles of whiskey from behind their back, Miche, Moblit and Nifa carrying a few glasses each. 
Eld snatched up your glasses, the deck and the remaining bottle of whiskey from the table, before settling down next to you on the floor, handing over your glass and the deck. “You’re better at shuffling and dealing than I am.” 
You shrugged, flitting the cards about in your hands so they wouldn’t be in order. You all knew exactly what to expect within the next couple of hours. Strip poker always played out the same way. Miche was the first one shirtless, Nanaba would spend the rest of the game ogling at him. Petra and Oluo would fall into some kind of domestic argument over whether the girls could use their bras as separate items of clothing, she always won. Moblit would refuse to look up from the ground, too embarrassed by the lack of clothes, Nifa would be the same. Hange tended to boast loud and proud about how good they were, and then instantly lose all items of clothing on their body, and Gunther would be the only one to insist on wearing everything he won. Including bras, which usually resulted in hilarity. 
Miche had just, predictably, lost his shirt to Petra, when the door swung open again. The entire room stopped to look up, and you twisted around. 
Your face lit up. 
Levi stood in the doorway, carefully surveying the circle on the floor, before making a mental decision nobody was privy to.
But to your collective surprise, he walked in, and sat down opposite you. You couldn’t help but smile, warmed by the idea that he’d done this for you. He was taking a break, finally, and spending time with the group. And the group looked utterly bewildered. All except you.
“So? How do you play?” 
Your smile broke into a stupid grin. “You’ve never played poker?”
“Yes, but most of the time, clothes stayed on,”
“Most of the time?”
Levi threw you a wry look, but you could see that little smirk of his. “Just explain the damn rules.”
You snickered, unaware of the stunned looks the circle was giving you. “It’s just like Krolva Hold’em. The blind makes a bet without looking at their cards, but with clothing rather than chips or money. So, usually it’s a sock or a shoe at first. Everyone then looks at their cards and decides whether they want to be in or out, depending on the flop. After a few rounds, whoever comes out on top gets the clothes and can put them on if they want. First one naked loses.” Levi glanced at everyone in the circle individually. Miche, it seemed, was terrible at this game. “So, you in or out, Captain?” There was a hopeful challenge in your gaze, and even if Levi could say no to you, he wouldn’t have. Not when you were basically daring him to.
“Fine. Deal me in.” 
Oh your smile was worth all the clothes he was about to lose. Worth the shit-eating grin from Hange, the suspicious squint from Miche. Worth the look of horrified realisation from Petra and Nanaba as you redealt everyone two cards, now with eleven players. And he was glad you were too preoccupied with dealing to see him mouth a spiteful “fuck off” to Hange and Nifa’s shared knowing look. 
Placing the rest of the deck back in the middle, you drew out three cards and placed them face up. “Alright, who’s the blind this round?”
“Oh shit, me. Uh, one shoe I guess.” Moblit raised his glass, only possessing his left shoe. His right was now awkwardly hanging off Petra’s leg, who was also wearing Miche’s shirt and Hange’s jacket. 
Everyone looked at their cards, and a silence blanketed the group. If anyone walked in, the circle would have easily been mistaken for a seance. Each player carefully calculated whether the hand was worth losing pants over. Especially Miche. Your eyes raised expectantly to Levi, who’d just remembered he was extremely competitive at this game when he used to play back in The Underground. Reading people’s nervous ticks was easy, but he had a feeling you might be able to hide yours quite well. 
“Two shoes.” He raised. Moblit groaned in anguish, knowing he would be giving up a sock if he were to continue. Miche, Nanaba and Petra all called, staying on two shoes. A bit boring, if anyone were to ask you. You glanced down at the ace and queen in your hand, your confidence bursting. You’d already won, you knew you had. The flop had turned in your favour: a king, another ace, and a jack. You already had a pair, now you were waiting for a ten. 
“Two shoes and a shirt.” You smirked, holding Levi’s scrutinising gaze. He could search all he wanted, he wasn’t going to find anything. You had never lost this game for a reason.
“Yeah no fuck that, I’m out.” Eld placed his hand face down on the floor, followed by Gunther and Nifa. Hange, of course, stuck with your bid, and another card was drawn. 
Your heart dropped at the sight of a second jack, and though it lessened the likelihood of anyone else going for the Royal Flush, that still left too much probability of other winning hands for your liking. One you would rather squash than go up against.
Levi’s mind raced as Moblit, too, folded. The jack in his hand laughed at him, a grinning visage to his own uncertainty. Three of a kind was pretty ideal if he was being honest, but you held yourself with such stony confidence that it was knocking his. Your innocent smile did nothing to help order his thoughts. Either he’d already lost, or you were bluffing. He’d recently seen how easily you could lie, and how you made it look ridiculously convincing. So he took a chance.
“Two shoes, a shirt and a cravat.” 
You gaped, folding your arms with a laugh of disbelief. “That’s such bullshit! Nobody else even wears a cravat except Oluo!”
“Guess you shoulda worn more clothes then.”
“You seem confident in yourself.”
“I’m always confident in myself.”
“Then this will be a good lesson for you to learn.” You smirked, bending your leg to rest your forearm on your knee, swirling your whiskey in your hand. Once again the group had fallen into silent awe at another feisty exchange between you, Hange’s shit-eating grin only eating more shit as they watched. 
“Well, I don’t have a shirt, nor any shoes so I’m gonna fold…” Miche placed his hand down on the floor, Nanaba and Petra following suit. 
Your eyes narrowed, half tempted to bet pants as well, but you decided to be nice. This was his first game with the group after all. 
“Raise you a jacket.” You grinned.
Nifa and Hange too folded, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was because they wanted to watch you and Levi go up against each other. Since now you were the only two still in play.
You placed your cards face up on the ground, earning whistles and hisses from the circle. Two pairs, one away from Royal Flush. No wonder you were confident.
 A confidence that was immediately crushed by the three of a kind in Levi’s hand. You blanched, inwardly cursing yourself for being so cocky. 
“You can still fold.” Levi smirked condescendingly, making sure there was absolutely no way you were about to fold. Scoffing tightly, you leaned forward to turn the fifth and final card. 
Having both checked your heart was in your throat. This was it, if the next card you turned over wasn’t a ten, you’d lost, and you would never hear the end of it. The tension in the room was so thick it was like breathing soup. Buzzing anticipation almost made your hair static as your fingers rested on the top of the next card.
You held your breath and pulled it off, flipping it and placing your fate in the river.
Levi swore viciously.
You released your held breath as a striking red ten of hearts announced your victory. A Royal Flush versus a three of a kind. You knew this round would be talked about for weeks after tonight. All the tension in your body drained away, and you finally had the mind to savour your victory, Levi now wallowing in a crushing defeat.
“What was it? Two shoes, a shirt, your cravat and a jacket?” You teased lightly, cackling like an animal as Levi flipped you off. But you could see there was no venom in his gaze. In fact there was no indication he was irritated at all. Rather, all you could see was relaxed enjoyment. He was enjoying himself.
Holy fuck, Levi was enjoying himself, even as he threw his jacket across the circle at you, followed by his two boots. You raised your eyebrows expectantly as he unbuttoned his shirt, loosening his cravat from around his neck. He tried to ignore your shameless staring as more of his body was revealed, and holy fuck he was so much hotter than you’d ever imagined.
Not that you’d imagined it. No, that would be extremely unprofessional.  
Levi went to tug the shirt from his shoulders, cravat hanging loose around his neck, when you suddenly stopped him. “Look, since it’s your first game with us, I’ll be merciful toward you,” he would have thanked you there and then, had your gaze not sparkled with dangerous mischief. “You can keep the cravat on.”
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As evening faded to night, the rounds played out like you would have imagined. Levi managed to win back some of his clothes, though you kept his jacket throughout the rest of the game, having abandoned your own beside you. It smelt too nice to let go. But he managed to reclaim his shirt and boots, and acquired Hange’s glasses, Oluo’s cravat, Moblit’s shirt and pants, and your hoodie, which he instantly pulled on. He would never admit to himself how disappointed he was to see you wearing a thin vest underneath. 
You, on the other hand, were borderline drowning in fabric. You now wore the shirts of Gunther, Nanaba and Eld, you’d laid Nifa’s jacket over your head because you couldn’t fit it over the other three layers and Levi’s jacket, though you were wearing two odd socks and were shoeless, those having been stolen from you by Hange who wore them on their hands, and Eld, who’d stretched your socks over his boots. 
“Miche, stop betting, you absolute madman. You don’t have any clothes on!” You laughed as he strategically placed his one remaining sock over his junk, which left nothing to the imagination, to Nanaba’s horny delight. You shook your head in disbelief as she kept adjusting how she was sitting. Disgusting girl. 
Only three people were still in: Miche, Levi and Gunther. Predictably, Levi won again.
“I don’t want that…” He scrunched his nose in disgust as Miche gestured down to his crotch for Levi to take his last remaining sock from his dick. Something that was not-so-politely declined. 
“If you’re not gonna take it, I’m technically still in the game.” Hange snorted a laugh at Miche’s reasoning, nodding their head in agreement, their boot-clad arms waving around wildly. You were glad you took away their already chipped glass before they smashed it completely..
“No, Miche, you’re not. Which concludes tonight’s game. Congrats Petra!” the group swivelled to where Petra had meticulously balanced the contents of everyone’s closets on her body. Several socks, jackets, shirts, hairpins, and pants fitting neatly over her, her face still visible from a shroud of fabric. She looked like some far away deity, adorned with offerings. 
Usually, at the end of these nights, everyone just went back to their rooms and exchanged clothes in the morning, when hangovers were strong and vomit was pungent. But Nifa and Petra seemed nice enough to throw Miche’s clothes back at him, and Levi handed Moblit’s shirts and pants back. You gave clothes back to those who asked for them, but when you were left cleaning the glasses of the sticky whiskey, you were still wearing one of Miche’s giant socks, and Nanaba’s shirt.
Oh. And Levi’s jacket… which you couldn’t bring yourself to offer it back. You swore it was more comfortable than your own. 
You’d been too preoccupied with your thoughts of the night’s events to realise you were washing the glass Hange had chipped. Until the sharp edge sliced cleanly through the palm of your hand. You jerked back, hissing inaudibly at the small wound. A small line of crimson had beaded across the fat of your palm, which you did nothing but glance at before you shook the pain off. It would fade in a minute. 
You kept shaking your hand, until it was caught mid-air. A strong hold encasing your wrist had you whipping your head to the left. You hadn’t even noticed anyone else had stayed behind, let alone had been watching you.
But he hadn’t. Levi hadn’t been watching you. Sure, he noticed you went to clean up all the discarded glasses, and he’d gone to get a mop for the spilt amber on the wooden floor. But the truth was, he’d been cleaning it up when the slightest jolt of pain struck his hand. His palm, to be exact.
“Let me look.” 
You hadn’t realised you’d closed your fist to hide it, though the scrunch of skin bit into the fresh wound. You couldn’t even refuse, compelled by something in his gaze to open your hand and let him look at where you’d managed to hurt yourself. You winced slightly as he softly grazed his thumb across the slice, before adjusting the faucet and checking the temperature of the water. When he guided your hand beneath the water flow, it was no longer hot, but rather lukewarm. Soothing, even. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the concentration on his face as he cleaned your cut, looking around before settling on a paper towel to stifle the bleeding with. It wasn’t a bandage, but it would do. 
But even after he’d finished, his warm hold on your wrist didn’t loosen.
“Thank you.” You murmured, looking down to realise he was still wearing your jumper, just with the sleeves rolled up. He’d had the option to exchange it back for his shirt during the game. 
He hadn’t. 
Levi regarded you for a moment, no longer holding your arm up by the kitchen basin, but rather now down by your side. He didn’t know what compelled him to do so, but one moment his other hand was idle, the next he was gently playing with a strand of your hair. 
“Who knew you were such a little demon?” 
Your soft smile broadened into something a little more bashful. You’d always been good at games like poker, where strategy and probability were key. The breath of your laugh tickled his skin, and it was then did Levi notice how close you’d become.
“What can I say? Just the luck of the draw.” You replied, mimicking the tonal shift of the night. Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your palm start to sweat from where he was holding your wrist. 
Levi’s impulse returned. His screaming instinct to kiss you thrashed in his mind. He wanted to hold you, and not just your hand, you. He wanted to feel your heartbeat again, like he had this morning. Fuck he wanted to taste you, wanted to breathe the same air as you, think the same thoughts as you. 
“What did you see? Today In the tent. You asked if I had seen something too. What did you see?” He managed to keep himself steady, thumb drawing smooth caresses on the inside of your wrist, silently gauging your reaction. If you started to hurt in any way, he would change the subject. But something was happening. Something was happening between you two, and he wanted to try and work it out. He assumed normal couples didn’t feel each other’s fucking wounds for crying out loud.
Not that you were a couple. Not even dating. 
You paused for a second, contemplating your answer. You wanted to sweeten the blow, maybe even tell a little white lie and say you just relived the moment he saved you. But lying to Levi had become almost impossible lately, so in typical soldier fashion, you kept it blunt.
“My death. I relived what happened, only you didn’t come. I was watching myself die, and I seemed okay with it,” – you paused, quickly scanning his thinly veiled expression of horror – “I’m less okay with it now. Much less okay. Sort of had a reality check by the squad. Yourself included.” You watched as his features relaxed, no longer holding the tension you so hated. Shit, he was looking at you the same way he did last night, only this time you could distinguish the reflection of flickering candle light from the seemingly bioluminescent glow in his eyes, only exaggerated by the darker shades beneath them.
Levi sighed gently, his suspicion now confirmed. “I saw the same thing.” His confession had your eyes widen slightly, looking away to comprehend what he just said.
“Levi… how did you know I needed help? How did you get to me so quickly?” You asked quietly. A secret question only for you and him. 
“I saw it. I saw you. I think… I think it was before anything had even happened. When I got there, I’d already seen what was happening, and what was going to happen. And I saw it again, an hour later. Exactly what you just described. I saw what would have happened if I hadn’t made it.”
“What does this mean…?”
Levi stayed silent for what felt like years. Honestly, he didn’t know what it meant. He had absolutely no idea what the fuck was going on. He assumed it was most likely something to do with his blood, but he couldn’t truthfully tell you, because he didn’t know.
So you saved him the stress of answering by asking something else. “Will you sleep tonight?” 
He couldn’t bear the concern on your face. He couldn’t bear the worry you held for him. He wanted to tell you to stop, to stop worrying so much about him. But he could never find it in himself to ask something like that of you. “Yeah. I’ll try.”
You didn’t look convinced. “Try harder. Anything less than an hour and I’ll bribe Hange to leave their festering experiments on your desk.” 
Levi huffed in amusement, his lips pulling into a slight smile despite his best efforts. Which, in hindsight, weren’t very good anyway. His efforts never were when it came to hiding things from you.
“Sounds like insubordination to me.” 
You chuckled lightly, and the sound ignited every nerve in his body. “Mm? What you gonna do? Throw me in a cell?”
“It’s tempting.”
You mock gasped, earning yourself a swift flick to your forehead. Something you also overreacted to by dramatically rubbing the microscopic hurt, before you fell into a charged, yet comfortable silence. One you used to memorise the features of his face, how they shifted and bent with each expression, how they pinched and relaxed when he spoke. You found yourself mesmerised. 
Levi had to do something. Had to say something, anything, or else he was going to kiss you. And he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t fuck up a relationship he’d only just managed to salvage. If you were even open to it. He didn’t even know if anything you did was meant in a romantic sense, or just a close friend kind of thing. But he was drawn in by your gaze, by your head subtly tilting to the side, eyes flitting over your face, down to your lips. 
“That’s my jacket.” Relationship saved.
Moment ruined.
You drew back, broken from your transfixed state to look down at yourself, using the diversion to mentally bash your head into a brick wall. What the fuck were you thinking? Trying to kiss him? The fuck was wrong with you? You tried not to let the blatant rejection get to you too much. Maybe he just wasn’t ready for that yet, and the way he hadn’t pulled away still set your heart ablaze.
“That’s my hoodie.” You quipped back, raising a brow of challenge. Levi was quick to realise this was one of his favourite expressions of yours. 
He debated taking the jumper off and returning it to you in exchange for his jacket, but he had a spare one. 
No-one would know…
You were expecting him to ask for it back, especially when his hands moved to grasp the lapels. Though when he did nothing but straighten it slightly and tug it down on your shoulders, you had to bite your lip not to beam at him. 
“Keep it. It looks better on you.” Though it made no sense, since all jackets were identical, you understood. It was just an excuse to give it to you. Or an excuse to keep your hoodie. You were extremely content with both reasons.
As was Levi, who fell into bed later that night comforted by a blanket of your scent.
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dreaminginpastels · 3 years ago
Note
Hello! Can you do a young Remus Lupin x reader fluff where the reader is a seeker on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and Remus has a crush on them. Thank you :)
the golden seeker
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pairing: young!remus lupin x gn!hufflepuff!reader
summary: remus attends every one of your quidditch matches…except one…prompting a profound apology and a grand gesture.
warnings: a smattering of self-loathing (because it’s remus), but otherwise just some light fluff with this precious cinnamon roll
reader pronouns: they/them
word count: 2k
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*✧ harry potter masterlist | main masterlist | ask | taglist ✧*
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Remus Lupin was drawn to you like a moth is drawn to a flame. He had noticed you early on in Herbology classes, in which you were an absolute whizz, but your friendship officially began in fifth year, on the day Professor Sprout had paired you together for an assignment on Mandrakes, which served as revision for your O.W.L.s.
Being a Gryffindor, he rarely got to see you, a Hufflepuff, outside of class. So, while he was an astute student on his own, knowing he’d get to spend time with you and your brilliant mind had set off butterflies in his stomach - butterflies that he hadn’t been able to shake to this day, two years later.
You had often studied together since, but became even closer this year when you were both named as prefects for your respective houses. After one prefect meeting with McGonagall, you had told him that you had been selected as the seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team. From that moment on, quiet, athletically challenged Remus decided that he was the school’s biggest Quidditch fan.
While he had attended a smattering of Quidditch matches in support of James, he never missed a game of yours. Every game you would look out into the Gryffindor viewing stand and would see him sitting there with a bright smile and a large, seemingly misplaced, Hufflepuff banner amidst the sea of red. Each game, there was a new message he had enchanted to appear:
In Hufflepuff We Trust!
Yellow and Black, Hufflepuff’s Got Our Back!
Badgers Dodge Bludgers!
It was just about the sweetest thing you had ever seen, despite James’ dramatic complaints that he did not share your fondness for one of his best friends supporting another house even when Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were opponents. Nevertheless, it had become a sort of good luck charm for you - Remus was your Felix Felicis, and when you saw him and his banners in the crowd, you never failed to catch the Snitch.
Then, inexplicably, on the day of your biggest match of the year, he wasn’t there. You wanted to brush it off, to think - of course he has a life, y/n, you can’t expect him to drop everything for you every single match. But it was a Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match so he had double the reason to be there. You were baffled but fought to stay focused and, although you didn’t catch the Snitch, your team still won by a tight margin.
As soon as the match ended, you approached James.
“Hey James, great match!”
“Thanks y/n! You’re really getting good at those high-speed maneuvers, I’ve gotta work on my game.”
You smiled. “I was meaning to ask, have you seen-”
“Remus?” He smirked, knowingly. “I thought you might ask about him.”
You nodded, a blush coating your cheeks at being so obvious. “It’s not that I expect him to attend every match or anything, I know I’m not that important, but…I guess I thought he might have let me know if he was going to miss it?”
James just about crumbled at your self-deprecation. “Hey, you’re extremely important to Remus. He literally never shuts up about you. It’s constantly y/n this and y/n that. I feel like some weeks I know every single thing that’s happening in your life.”
Chuckling, you bashfully brushed your hair behind your ear. “Thanks, James.”
“You’re welcome.” He replied, “And about Remus - he felt really awful that he couldn’t make it. It was actually majorly depressing to hear him go on and on about how much he was letting you down no matter how much Sirius and I tried to convince him that you’d understand. Anyway, he wanted me to ask if you could meet him in the Hufflepuff viewing stand tomorrow morning after breakfast?”
You nodded instantly. “Please tell him I’ll be there, and I hope that he’s okay.”
He smiled. “He’ll love that. Thanks for giving him a chance, y/n.”
“It’s the least I can do to repay him for sitting through all the big, loud crowds every match for me - I know that’s like his worst nightmare.”
James smiled gently. “You’re a really good friend y/n. I think he’d die of embarrassment if I told him that you said that, so I’ll let you tell him yourself. Believe me, he’ll be counting the seconds ‘til then.”
You laughed fondly. “I’ll see him in the morning, and I’ll see you next match - unless you want to practice those high-speed maneuvers some time.”
Erupting with laughter, James patted you on the shoulder. “Careful, my fragile ego might have just shattered if I wasn’t so damn impressed with what I saw today. I might just take you up on that offer.”
Arriving at the Hufflepuff viewing stand the next morning, your heart jumped and then broke at the sight of Remus. He sat nervously looking out at the grounds. You could practically feel his regret at having not attended the match. What broke your heart, however, were the gentle moans and the scattering of fresh cuts on Remus’ face and arms as he turned around to greet you.
“y/n!” He exclaimed, voice filled with relief and despair all at once - as if he hadn’t expected you to turn up. As if he had convinced himself that he’d never see you again. That he’d blown it. That he could never be forgiven.
“Remus!” You began, concern lacing your voice. “Are you okay? What happened?”
You encouraged him to sit - standing was clearly too difficult for him at the moment. Gently taking his face in your hands, you looked into his eyes. “Remus, talk to me.”
Refusing to lock eyes with you, he began pleading. “y/n, I’m so so sorry. I would have done anything to come yesterday, to be here for you. I should’ve been here.”
“Hey now, it’s alright! I don’t expect you to go so far out of your way for me ever, let alone as often as you do. I know how tough those big, loud crowds are for you. It means so much to me that you try at all, Remus.”
He chuckled softly, looking out at the grounds. “I can practically see you up there. Twisting and twirling, giving James a run for his galleons. You’re so elegant when you’re pursuing the Snitch. I’ll never get close to that level of elegance in my lifetime.”
You blushed at the compliment. You weren’t used to such eloquence from Remus. Sure, he could write the most persuasive essay, and talk the ears of the Professors, but you’d never heard him speak such kind words about you before. This was new, and you were almost too touched to speak. But then you caught a glimpse of the fresh cut on his nose once more and remembered that he’d never answered your question.
You tried again. “Remus, will you tell me what happened to you?”
He sighed. “Just a bit of a misunderstanding with a Hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures yesterday. You know how reckless Kettleburn can be.”
You knew he was lying, that it was something more, but you didn’t push it. You knew he would tell you the truth when he was ready - you could see how much it pained him to tell you even the smallest lie.
“-Anyway, I ended up in the Hospital Wing and Pomfrey wouldn’t let me leave until this morning.”
“I’m touched that I was your first stop when you got out, and I’m so sorry that happened to you. It must have been awfully scary.”
He let out a deep breath. “It’s alright, I’m glad it was me and not someone else, let alone a younger student!”
You smiled at his sweet concern for others. It was one of your favourite qualities about him.
“-But enough about me! Tell me how the match went.”
And so you did. Every little detail. “-if only I had caught the Snitch. We were so lucky to win anyway, but I feel like I let everyone down. I guess you really are my good luck charm.”
He blushed vigorously, which prompted a chuckle from you. “I-I am?”
You nodded. “Every time I see you in the crowd with those thoughtful banners, I always feel like I’ve taken a fresh dose of Felix Felicis.”
He laughed. “That’s very kind of you to say, but I’m pretty sure you’re just really ridiculously talented, incredibly modest, and a hard worker. Some might say a model Hufflepuff.”
You smiled and looked out at the grounds, feeling Remus’ eyes on you.
“y/n, I- I was hoping that I might ask…”
You turned to him and nodded encouragingly.
“IwonderedifyoumightaccompanymetoHogsmeadesometimetomakeupformemissingyesterdaysQuidditchmatch.”
You laughed, “I’m sorry, once more? I may be fast on a broom, Remus, but my brain can only process words so quickly.”
He took a deep breath before replying in his normal speaking pace. “I wondered if you might accompany me to Hogsmeade some time to make up for me missing yesterday’s Quidditch match.”
Your eyes widened. “Like…a date?”
Nervously rubbing his neck with his hand and then immediately wincing from the tenderness, he nodded. “Yes, if that’s okay with you.”
You beamed at the adorable boy in front of you. “I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you Remus. I…was kinda hoping you’d ask me one day.”
Gulping at your words, Remus turned an even darker shade of red. You hugged him oh-so-gently, and the two of you left the viewing stand hand in hand.
A few weeks after your date at Hogsmeade, you and Remus were closer than ever. You’d gone on two more dates, and were happily settling into whatever this blossoming relationship was.
It was the day of your next Quidditch match, and to your joy and concern, Sirius Black had been asked to fill in as the commentator. You thought this was beyond hilarious and would make for an entertaining match, but were terrified that you’d lose concentration and let everyone down again.
Halfway through the match, your Captain called a time out. Hufflepuff were just behind Slytherin. You knew how important it was for you to catch the Snitch, so you looked out to the stands. You were struggling to locate Remus and panicked for a moment that he hadn’t come. That your entire team, your entire house, was depending on you and your good luck charm wasn’t there.
Then, you heard Sirius’ voice blaring through the speakers.
“As the players return to their positions, I ask that, on special request,  y/n y/l/n, Hufflepuff Seeker Extraordinaire, directs their attention to the Hufflepuff Tower-”
You flew over for a brief moment to get a better look as Sirius finished his announcement.
“-where they will find my dear friend Remus Lupin holding a banner with a very, special message.”
You spotted him instantly. Standing amongst the crowd of your house. Holding a banner that said:
Golden Seeker, will you (officially) be mine?
You couldn’t help it, tears of joy trickled down your cheeks as you excitedly nodded yes. He beamed with pride as you flew to the stand to kiss him.
This was your fairytale. Your happy ever after with the boy of your dreams. Your best friend. You held onto each other as the crowd roared and “aww”ed. You even caught some fellow players applauding.
Nothing could take you out of your reverie. Well, nothing except for the booming voice of Sirius Black, announcing:
“Beautiful. Now, if any Gryffindor girls would like to keep that loving energy going, I’ll be in the Astronomy Tower after the match. Thank you and goodnight.”
You laughed as the indignant voice of Professor McGonagall shrieked through the loudspeaker. “MISTER BLACK-”
“Quite right Professor, girls of any house.”
You and Remus chuckled at your friends’ buffoonery and shared one last fond kiss before you returned to the pitch - knowing that you would never be short on good luck again.
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a/n: hello lovely! thank you very much for sending in this request ☺️ as a hufflepuff myself, writing this made my heart very happy 💛🖤 I hope that you enjoy it and that it was everything that you wanted it to be! please send in another ask or send me a message to let me know what you thought (if you’re comfortable doing that), and please feel free to request again x
p.s. the temptation to call this “hufflefluff” was so strong 😂
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intangibly-here · 3 years ago
Text
it’s a fact (that i want you in my life)
various (diluc, kaeya, xiao, zhongli)
- scenarios; 6.8k words - gn!reader - fluff & angst - hurt/comfort - warning: description of injuries/blood, mild cursing
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is it really so hard to be understood?
[argument & reconciliation scenarios]
title from mckay, jeff bernat - angel 2 me.
requested by @nanana-kashi
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❥ diluc
it’s a chilly evening, as always. 
you trod down the dusty path, steps kicking up clouds of dirt and sending pebbles skidding as you walk. the dim glow of street lamps illuminate the edges of your figure, passing under them on your stroll returning home. you take carefully measured steps past the countless rows of grapevines, past the stone walls of the building’s perimeter, and arrive at the polished front doors. 
the dawn winery is quiet in the evening, only the chirping of crickets filling the silence, whereas servants would fill the air with talk and work during the day. fishing out a key from your pocket, you unlock the door with a click. 
all that meets you when you enter is more silence. empty again.
diluc has always been a busy man. he’s a hard worker, as are all of the people that surround the two of you are, and he carries the heavy weight of an entire legacy on his shoulders. recently, however, he’s been especially illusive, managing the angel’s share during waking hours and working undercover as the “darknight hero” so to speak throughout the evenings. 
while it’s not out of the ordinary for diluc to work nights on end, it is unusual that you haven’t caught a glimpse of him at all, between visiting the angel’s share during his usual shift or roaming the paved streets of mondstadt. even asking charles himself remained fruitless. 
“my sincerest apologies, but i haven’t seen him. i’d thought he was with you.”
it’s even more unusual that he hadn’t told you a word of what he’s been up to. were you that untrustworthy?
you close the door with a resigned sigh, removing the bow that’s been strapped to your back and resting it against the wall across from the entrance. your pull your gloves off, the mahogany leather of it reminding you of ruby eyes and stiff clothing. they drop into a box rested on a nearby shelf. the unsettling silence closes in around you, and for a moment, you breathe in a strikingly painful loneliness. it fills your chest uncomfortably, like it’s carving out a hollow space in-between your ribs, gnawing at your heart. then, you breathe out, and the discomfort dissipates. no, he trusts you. you know you both do.
even so, something shifts wrong inside you without diluc here. 
you’re not sure how to feel about it.  
you minutely fiddle with your ring, cool silver pressed against warm skin, finger tracing the simple engravings carved into it with care. it’d been your request for something subtle, away from the flashiness of blinging jewels and rare stones. 
he’ll be back soon. 
you say this, turn the words over and over in your head just as you turn the ring on your finger, but you know better than that. you had truly believed it the first day, but then the first day bled into a second, a third day into a fourth, a fifth, sixth, seventh—
and now you stand here on the eighth day by the arching doors, inside the enormous mansion, cold and disappointed and alone. 
you shake your head, chastising yourself internally. it’s no use worrying yourself down over it. dropping the rest of your belongings in a pile by the foot of the bed, you scratch the back of your head and turn to the bathroom. best to run yourself a shower and get to bed quickly. the whirring of crickets and fireflies keep you company ‘till the sound of splashing water erases the quiet. 
you’re toweling your hair off, foggy wisps of steam trailing behind you as you leave the bathroom, when you hear the resounding click of the front door. 
diluc?
leaving the towel hanging around your neck, you walk to the entrance room where the man you’ve been waiting for stands upright, glancing at you when you enter. it only lingers for a second, before darting back to his own hands.
“welcome home.”
“thanks.”
the clock ticks in the heavy silence. 
“not going to say anything?”
he lifts his head up to face you properly for the first time in a week, confused. fiery red hair shuffles with his movements, and he releases it from the confines of his hairtie. “what is there to say?”
you take a deep breath, shoulders rising, then falling again. you fiddle with your ring again. “we haven’t seen each other for days, and there’s nothing you want to say?”
“...” he purses his lips. 
“i’ve been looking for you.”
diluc looks away. “..i’ve been busy.”
your stare turns frostier by the second, the beginnings of a bonfire starting inside you. oh really now? just an ‘i’ve been busy’? “busy enough that you couldn’t spare even a second to let me know that you were doing okay?”
he bristles at your chilly tone, hackles rising, and body turning sharply away, apparently preoccupied with hanging his coat up. “i don’t need you to fret over me like— like this.” 
the words have you suddenly losing all your temper, leaving behind only the dredges of a deep-seated sorrow.
“am i not allowed to worry about my husband?”
his untold frustration seems to only grow at the dimming fire flickering out in your eyes, and his eyes narrow. still, he stays silent, a brooding look on his face. it wars with the thinning desperation you unconsciously let yourself show tonight. 
“ —even if you won’t tell me what you’re up to, why won’t you see me at all?”
the loosening hold on your emotions is gripped tight once more at the deafening silence not unalike how it were even without him. your face is drawn neutral once more, and you turn to make your way back to bed. 
“..alright, diluc. goodnight then.”
seems like tonight was a lost cause as well. you trail through the hallways, pausing before the door to the study. you enter against your better judgement, something pulling at you to not do this— but really, did you have to listen to that voice? something curls inside you, hurt and tired. that voice never helped with anything anyway. diluc’s still drifting, far, farther away from you and you’re still alone. 
(you know your emotions are getting the better of you, but you just can’t help it. how are you supposed to handle something you’d never dealt with before?)
standing before a relatively smaller bookcase, you reach up to pull out a book rather carelessly—
diluc opens the door, a regretful nervousness on his face and brow furrowed, to see the heavy wooden shelf tumble onto you. his eyes widen, and he lunges forward. 
thud.
you blearily blink your eyes open a couple times to dim spots floating across your vision. two distinct voices murmur somewhere in the vicinity of the room. last you remember, you’d left diluc at the front door... and went to pick out a book for the study.. and oh.
so you’re recovering now, you’d assume. 
you trace the bandages on your head with sublime caution. the door clicks shut, bringing you out of your thoughts, and you tilt your head on the pillow. red. it’s diluc. he’s in his casual attire, plain white top and black slacks, but is still so stunning. maybe even more so than his regular clothing. 
diluc whips where he was staring at the door towards you, eyes wide and hand flying to his face. it’s flushed a brilliant crimson pink. 
oops. 
snapping out of his daze, diluc rushes to your side and kneels by the bedside. your mouth opens to protest his actions, then pauses, and closes again. it’s about time you receive an explanation. you two are past unnecessarily polite formalities. he grasps your hands in his calloused ones like a lifeline. 
“i’m so, so sorry, my love.” he stumbles over his words, almost like he’s choking them up from the bottom of his heart. maybe he is. “i didn’t want to get you caught up in the— the incompetence of the knights, and all the troubles that come with cleaning up after them.”
he glances away at the floor, gazing somewhere you can’t reach him. 
“...all it brings is sorrow.”
he takes a shaky breath, and his eyes glisten from underneath his mussed bangs. his hands tremble in yours, and your eyes soften. you run a hand through his hair in a silent gesture. continue when you’re ready. it’s alright. 
“a-and so i didn’t tell you, didn’t go to find you. there was a really— really unexpected gathering of abyss mages, and i didn’t want you to get involved. but you’re right— i shouldn’t need to hide it or avoid you because of it. i’m—” 
he chokes back a sob, wiping furiously at his eyes, and for a moment, it reminds you of how he was before everything happened. how bright he was. how open. but it’s of no importance any longer, and you brush the stray thoughts aside. mature or not, cheery or not, he is still diluc. he is still the man you love. 
“it’s okay, love. it’s okay.” you shush his sobbing gently, cupping his face in the palm of your hands. “i forgive you. i always will.”
you nudge him up from the floor and into downy bedsheets, nestling him in front of you. encircled in your embrace, diluc huddles closer to you, sniffling all the while. 
“when the bookcase fell on you, i was so scared. i— i thought you’d...” 
he trails off, face buried in the crook of your neck. you can feel him pressing his cheek into it, nuzzling closer. you lean your head against his in a comforting manner, i’m here love, and the heavy conversation peters into a soothing silence. you both move in tandem with your breathing, intertwined and floating in the newfound peace. 
“..’m love you...” 
but a whisper in the (welcomed, for once) silence, diluc drags out the mumbled syllables childishly, probably embarrassed from the entire ordeal. you press a warm kiss to the top of his head and smile for once, affectionately, softly, sweetly—  
“love you too, diluc.”
❥ kaeya
sometimes, just sometimes, the personality of kaeya alberich, mister cavalry captain of the knights of favonius, gets on your nerves.
kaeya is sly and sweet-talking, words sharp and lined with double meanings left and right. even at night, tucked into each other and settling into the quiet of drowsiness, teasing words will slip out of his lips and leave you either furiously blushing, firing back at him, or cracking up in full blown laughter— most of the time.
his joking manner is what drew you to him, the way he’s the spark in the room and how he brightens up your life with every passing moment.
it is also what is pushing you away now.
you know you’re being stupid. his joking and teasing is just one of the many parts of the man you fell in love with, inseparable and intertwined. it’s just kaeya being— well, kaeya. and it’s a wonderful part of him that you’d never want him to give up on.
the thought itself doesn’t exactly help when you’re spiraling into a pit of unwanted emotions.
lately, you’ve been heading home late, exhausted and worn out from putting everything into your job during the day. you hadn’t anticipated the rain to come down so hard and in turn didn’t bring an umbrella, resulting in absolutely waterlogged clothes and soggy shoes as you neared the pathway up to your home. today, you’d just like a little soft peace and quiet.
the thought stings like a sharp slap to the face when you open the door to kaeya’s unusually boisterous laughter (usually it’s less... annoying than this...), the room smelling thickly of wine. you can hear the clink of glass against glass from where you’re standing in the doorway.
whenever kaeya happens to consume alcohol, he becomes rowdier than ever; this incident is no exception. you shake your head and sigh. apparently kaeya is sober enough to notice you, because he looks over at you and grins in a telltale sign of mischief.
(not sober enough to recognize your breaking point it seems.)
“kept me waiting long enough, sweetheart! look at poor lil’ lonely me, sitting here with only this wine to keep me company.” he shakes the bottle in his hand, pouring another glass, taking another sip. “don’t you think i deserve a little something? maybe—”
the rest of his words are drowned out in the buzz of your mind, piling on your strained emotions. it’s so much. too much. (it’s unreasonable, you know you know you know, but you can’t stop, won’t stop, it won’t stop—)
does he not see you?
the words fly out of your mouth before you can reign in your haywire thoughts—
“would you just shut up? asshole...”
—anddd you didn’t mean to say that.
the rainwater drips from your clothes and pools onto the floor in a miserable puddle. the shocked look on his face and the thump of the wine botte falling to the floor says enough to send you turning on your heels back into the pouring rain. the door slams shut behind you almost achingly as you run wherever your feet will take you.
stupid stupid stupid! why did you say that! your head throbs in a mixture of hurt, guilt, and confusion. you stumble on rain-sodden ground and stray pebbles as your feet rapidly grow sore, unable to keep up with you anymore. 
your legs give up from under you, and you collapse to the ground, face buried in your hands. even if you were tired, you shouldn’t have just shouted at him like that — he didn’t even know what you were upset over! you didn’t tell him!
picking the pieces of your thoughts back together as the adrenaline wears off, you unsteadily rise to your feet once more, knees shaky and weak. it’s as you’re preparing the walk home from who knows where you ran to, you hear a loud grunt from the vicinity behind you. 
oh no.
just as you feared, when you turn around you’re greeted face-to-face by a shield-bearing mitachurl that’s likely strayed from its camp. its shadow looms in front of you, crawling forward as it slowly makes its way to you. you scramble for your sword, fingers digging at the buckles of your belt, then realize you had left it hanging on the sword rack at home. 
(kaeya...)
the stomping grows closer, like an ominous sign, and you curse under your breath. as much as you’d like to believe you can survive this relatively unharmed, your wobbling legs and unarmed hands say otherwise.
without another moment to spare, the mitachurl dashes forward, swinging its shield as if it were weightless. you put all your effort into dodging its sweeping blows, the embedded stones whistling by your face as you scan the area in another attempt to run—
as you turn your head, the mitachurl charges in from your blindspot, slamming straight into the side of your head. 
fuck. 
the impact sends you falling backwards in a tangle of uncoordinated limbs and stinging scratches. the throbbing at your temple doubles over, and when you tentatively reach up to touch it, you feel it’s sickeningly sticky. blood. a lot of it. 
black spots swim across your vision, and hazily, you think you hear a voice call your name in the distance. whatever it was, it’s soon drowned out by the sound of the creature stomping towards you impendingly. 
hallucinating already? you bark out a hysterical laugh in spite of it all, then hunch over in a fit of hacking coughs. red streaks across the dry grass. it burns. you rub at your throat. any further efforts would be futile. you know a hopeless situation when you see one— or in this case, are in one. 
thump.
another bruise blooms on your leg, and you wince. closing your eyes, your fuzzy conscious awaits its silence. there’s a swoosh, the raising of the mitachurl’s shield, and you brace your body for the impact—
“love, you— what— i—“
something, someone, lifts you up, up, up. and you’re drifting, carried in gentle arms and smooth fabric. the air grows heavier, the whistling of finely honed swordsmanship hanging in the wind, and the thundering steps draw to an abrupt stop. a familiar voice trickles into your ears, but your mind is sinking sinking...
(it trembles.)
on the edge of your sopor, just before you fall into its depths, you feel a clammy hand clutch yours. it’s warm. 
mind empty, the bone-deep exhaustion swallows you, vision fading to black. 
-
you awaken to soft white sheets and bandages looped round your arms. your muscles scream at you when you try to rise, flames of pain crawling up your torso and singing your nerves. a grimace paints itself across your face, and you slump back against the pillows. what had happened again...?
the lock clicks, door swinging open, and you turn your head to face it. kaeya steps in, a tray in hand as he closes the door with a twist of his hand. when he raises his head, his eye widens, and you can see the faint bags under it, red rimmed at the edge. you purse your lips, heart panging in your chest. 
neither of you speak when he shuffles to the bedside, setting the tray down on the nightstand and picking up a stray pillow that had fallen to the ground. it must’ve been when you’d just woken up; you hadn’t noticed. he tucks in back into its spot behind your back, propping it to help you sit a bit more upright. he doesn’t retrieve his hands from where they rest on top of yours. 
you start, “kaeya, i’m so—”
he doesn’t let you continue, pressing a finger to your lips. 
“sweetheart, i should be the one saying that.” he ruffles your hair endearingly, expression both relieved and pained at the same time. “i was drunk and just let you run out there—” he pauses. “i pushed it too far.”
you can feel the start of tears welling at the corners of your eyes, hands trembling and teeth wearing at your bottom lip. “...i still should’ve spoken up. you wouldn’t have known otherwise.”
he smiles warmly, genuinely, the cheerful glint in his eye sparkling at you through glossy eyes. “then next time, speak up, alright darling? we both can learn from this.” you nod, and he cups your face, thumbing the rims of your eyes and the side of your cheeks where rivulets of tears paint transparent rivers.
“may i kiss you?”
there’s a lot more to unpack to your actions, both your physical injuries and mending the worn strings of your minds, but for now—
you nod wordlessly once more and lean in, meeting him in a soft, sweet kiss. he wraps his arms around you in a familiar hug that you’ve sorely missed and pulls back, pressing more small, but equally as sweet kisses across your face. 
—for now, this is enough. 
❥ xiao
“you need to take better care of yourself!”
xiao rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in protest like a child. he sure is acting like one right now. why is it that he’s only like this when it comes to medicine? every time... you grimace at him, glaring threateningly and shaking the porcelain bottle in your hand. the round pills roll over each other, rattling in the container. 
“xiao...”
xiao just huffs and snarks back, turning his face away as if it’d do anything. 
“i’m doing fine. adepti don’t need medicine.”
it’s a weak argument, and he knows it. why is he fighting this so much? it’s just taking painkillers. no matter; it’s time to put in the finishing argument. 
“it’s from zhongli.”
the statement has him freezing in place, chewing his bottom lip nervously. of course it’s the mention of zhongli that has him finally seriously considering listening to you. petulant kid. can’t believe you’re really dating this thousand-year-old child. 
“i—”
he cuts himself off and goes silent for a beat, another argument on the tip of his tongue, but accepts the medicine in defeat anyway. you drop the little jar into his outstretched hand, and he pockets it in a flash. now if it were only that easy from the beginning...
“fine. but you have to stop nagging me so much.”
you can agree with that one. 
“alright, it’s a compromise.”
unconsciously, his mouth draws into a pout, and you chuckle, dipping down and kissing his cheek. his face shifts from awkward confusion to sudden realization, immediately stiffening up and stalking off in a mere shadow of his usual cool. 
if you spy the pink flushed tips of his ears and the prominent blush on his cheeks as he leaps off the balcony, you keep it to yourself. 
-
so much for taking care of yourself.
“and you were saying?” 
the door slides open, frame rattling as the illustrations of one panel swallows the other. xiao in all his midget glory strides in, footsteps careful as he closes the door behind him. a tray is balanced in one hand as he does it, somehow steadier than you’ve ever actually held a tray before. even with two hands. is this an adeptus thing too? expert, perfect, unbelievably infallible tray holding? you can tell from the expression on his face as he makes his way over that something’s tipping him off. he’s definitely grimacing, like he would when you said something unbearably stupid— in his terms of course. not yours. 
is he a mind reader too? wasn’t that only a rex lapis thing? like with the prayers?
“you look like shit.”
even worse than earlier goes unsaid. his face is typical frosty-xiao, but his brows are furrowed and disbelief shines in his eyes. guess it wasn’t your thoughts after all. but actually, did you really look that bad?
“yes, it’s that bad. now sit up so you can eat.”
whoops. 
holding yourself from making any snide comebacks, you move to touch your cheek as you sit up, a little shocked when it actually makes contact with the back of your hand; it feels as though your face was set in front of an open fireplace. a damp towel drops off your forehead, plopping on the blankets. it’s lukewarm. huh, didn’t notice that before. 
removing the used towel, xiao sets the tray down on your lap meticulously. now closer, you can see the plates of cold noodles and steaming bowls of jewelry soup sitting on the wooden tray. the smell is incredibly appetizing, as expected of smiley yanxiao, and you take care in preparing to eat the sumptuous meal. 
“aw, thanks xiao.” 
he turns his head away habitually, too shy to meet your eyes. you can, however, see his fingers subconsciously fiddling with the edge of his sleeve. the sun takes that moment to peek out of the clouds and through the window, outlining the contours of xiao’s face and soften his sharp features. it makes him look almost luminescent, like an angel descended from the skies, and you’re drowning in his being. he’s stunning. 
feeling your stare, xiao whips his head back around, narrowing his eyes and nearly growling. like a cat, your mind supplies. your cat. 
(and then you laugh at your thoughts, because xiao isn’t anyone’s. you just happen to be by his side for as long as wants you here.
and yours, him.)
“don’t stare,” he hisses, and then you can’t hold your laughter any longer, hacking out laughter at his defensive demeanor. “you- !”
he hastily picks up the pair of chopsticks on the tray, taking a mouthful of mushroom-topped noodles between them and stuffing it into your mouth. you immediately cease your chortling to chew, else you shove yourself into a choking fit. 
floating bits of dust fade in and out of the sunbeams falling on the floorboards, as if playing peekaboo with the air. the noodles are perfectly seasoned, mixed with just the right amount of sesame and savory sauce to not be bland, but not taste overpowering. they’re light and easy to swallow, and xiao hands you a cup of tea as you finish your bite; his fingers brush against yours, soft and warm. you sniffle. your runny nose hinders your senses, but you can still smell the faint scent of qingxin blossoms, and a relaxed smile makes it’s way to your face as you take a sip. 
this is nice.
❥ zhongli
you’d first seen morax in the midst of a fierce battle. 
jueyun karst was as empty as always, save for the presence of several adepti crouching in the shadows, more than the darkness would usually hide. then, as you sat high in the branches of one of the many golden trees in the valley, feet swinging over spikes of climbing amber protruding from the ground, you sensed a change in the atmosphere. the wind whistling through the treetops and over your head shifted sharply, soft gusts transforming into howling gales that had you falling backwards. 
cursing under your breath, you gripped the branch tightly, face scrunched in a grimace. by the time the turbulent winds had stopped, your hair blown astray in a hilarious mess and your back rebalanced against the trunk of the tree, a squirming, inky mass of something had appeared, hovering in the air just above the ground. it steadily grew in both physical size and energy, the air humming and pulsing with it’s indiscernible movements, until it towered at the height of the larger trees, far larger than any human could. 
you could feel the surrounding adepti grow increasingly concerned, their energy fluctuating wildly, but they showed no signs of movement. why? shouldn’t they be neutralizing this threat? your feet pick up their movement again from where they’d stilled during the storm, swinging back and forth. forwards. the lump of dark energy steps towards the harbor. backwards. another step. forwards. it pauses in its steps, unfurling its wings. back-
thump. 
so that would be why they hadn’t moved. almost as if heaving a sigh of relief, the chaotic energy of the adepti lurking nearby immediately deflate, retreating back into a neutral state. oh hoh, a big shot? when a gold-pattern embellished white robe emerges from a tear in empty space, you nearly topple over from your spot in the tree. bingo. 
the storm clouds in the sky poured as they fought, the sound of pattering raindrops both filling your ears and serving as a backdrop to the clashing of metal and vicious growls. as you watched him fight, the prime adeptus rex lapis, lithe form crossing blows with the distorted form of an abyssal beast, you knew from somewhere deep in your soul that something was bound to change. 
(it was when you were leaping down from the tree to leave, silently thanking him with a glance in his direction, that your gazes interlocked. morax made for an awfully odd sight when he had both a curious spark gleaming in his eyes and a dissolving corpse at his feet. and well, if it got even odder when he invited you to tea, that would be his problem, not yours— even if you had accepted the offer.) 
soon after, in the days following that first “meeting”, you’d seen zhongli (as he preferred to be called) in town, lingering indecisively around various stalls both big and small. noticing his dilemma, as a good friend (if you could be considered that; you’d only watched him slaughter a demonic monster and talked over tea once after all) you walked over and helped him out. 
multiple tea outings, three bags of mora and several weeks later, zhongli is looking into your eyes— and wow, this is really reminding you of your first meeting, where he was beating the shit out of that thing while you all just sat around and waited for him to be done and— he’s getting closer? please say this is going where you hope it’s going—
evidently you win this time, because zhongli moves forward and presses his (soft, soft, soft—) lips to yours in a breathtakingly warm kiss. 
he tastes faintly like the sweet syrup of the almond tofu you’d shared earlier, and the moment he draws his head back to allow you a breath, you pull him back in for another. 
-
your shoes step soundly against polished flooring as you enter the doorway of liuli pavilion, soft chatter drifting between the rhythmic click-clacking of your stride. the waitress greets you politely as you walk in, taking a glance at the clipboard she’s holding, then gesturing for you to follow her. 
“based on your attire and the time, you must be the one mister zhongli is waiting for, no?” 
to the assenting dip of your head she gives her own in return, leading you through the back doors and to a secluded table out in the open. settled by the railing overlooking the harbor is zhongli, pristine as always, sipping a steaming cup of tea. 
he doesn't notice you at first, attention trained on the book lain out on the table, but then you're sliding into your seat with a quiet thank you to the waitress, chair audibly scraping against the pavement, and he looks up. remarkably deep amber eyes meet yours, but then again, you’re not meeting a random passerby now, are you? 
(you’re not wooing just anyone.)
or at least, that’s what you’d thought. however, by the time he’s mentioned guizhong for the— what, 5th time tonight? you can’t say you’re completely unfazed. guizhong was his partner in war, best friend, closest companion; of course he would talk about her. it’s only natural now that you’re getting to know each other more. 
yeah. natural. 
you rest your head on the palm of your hand, leaning forward onto the table. the glass of wine in your other sloshes against its confines. your eyes follow it as the liquid tips and turns over itself, deep mahogany flowing into semi-opaque purples and vibrant reds. 
guizhong. she’s an inarguably important part of his very, very long past. you understand this— but really, did he have to talk about her regarding every single thing? it’s as if— as if you were just— just there. you’re missing something. there’s a label for this feeling, you know there is, but it’s only escaping your mind the more you think about it. just what is it...?
“the leaves of this tea have been harvested from wild glaze lilies themselves, then additionally infused with the purified essence of glaze lily blossoms. countless meticulous steps and tremendous efforts must have been taken to execute this brew as splendidly as it was. it is most definitely an exquisite tea befitting of guizhong’s legacy.”
zhongli pauses, then sighs wistfully, a reminiscent expression painted on his face. 
“an... unfortunate end she had. time never stops, neither for gods nor mortals alike.” 
ah, yes. irreversible, unalterable, set in stone. you’ve heard these words so many times over, no matter how eloquently they’d been reshaped and rephrased. no matter how different they’d sounded every time. no matter how much you wished you could stop overthinking it. 
looking less like a new romantic interest and more like a replacement, you chuckle inwardly to yourself as zhongli stares out over the harbor, a new mortal friend to chat with. the thought hits a little too close to home, and oh that was the word you were looking for. 
you are just a replacement. 
how could you not be? you see how zhongli looks when he talks about her. though he doesn’t say it outright, you know he loved her.
still loves her. 
and so, who— no, what are you but just another someone? 
and here you were thinking you were someone special. of course you just had to stick your nose somewhere it didn’t belong. 
you’d really thought you could keep your head cool in all situations; no, before all this you really had—  but suddenly when emotions and love are involved, everything spirals out of your control. vile thoughts crawl up from the depths of your soul, clawing at your rationality and eating away at your want want want. 
and so when zhongli turns to look into your eyes again, mixed emotions rise in your heart like bile would up your throat. the wine you’d been drinking all night loosens your tongue, and the words are slipping out of your mouth before you can take them back. 
“are you really going to talk about her all night?“
fuck.
zhongli frowns for a fraction of a second, his head tilting to the side in contemplation, then parts his lips and replies:
“is there a problem with it?”
his answer makes you want to throw your head back in hysterical laughter. his energy is completely placid, which actually might make it even worse. he’s genuinely asking. genuinely fucking asking. here your head is, overrun with thoughts left and right, mind fraying at the seams, and that’s what he’s asking? is there a problem? your hand clenches and unclenches, nails digging crescents into the palm of your hand. he has to be joking. 
a waiter arrives to change and refill the empty pot of tea, but immediately stiffens at the silent atmosphere. once the new tea leaves have been added and begun to steep, he immediately hightails it out of there, nearly slipping in his haste.
clink. 
you set your wine glass on the tabletop. need to sober up after that one. zhongli still looks faintly puzzled, but allows you to do as you wish, and you both watch as steam floats up from the spout of the teapot. pouring a cup of glaze lily tea, your mind taunts, you take a sip to clear your head. 
huh. that’s odd.
you pull the porcelain rim away from your mouth, tilting the cup to stare at its contents. nothing is out of the ordinary, and the tea smells as fragrant as ever, but there’s a particular... sweetness to it? if it were any more bitter you wouldn’t have payed it attention, but the brew shouldn’t be.. sweet?
“zhongli, did you add anything to the tea?”
the bewilderment on his face only grows. 
“i don’t believe so? nothing other than the tea itself should be present...”
the corner of your mouth quirks down, eyes still inspecting the tea dredges in the cup. then why was the tea... was it really just your taste buds? a foreboding feeling sends shivers down your spine, and it’s building building building—
zhongli’s eyes suddenly widen, and he startles back from the table like a frightened colt. his head whips to the side, spear immediately appearing in his hand, and he draws his shoulder back at a speed you hadn’t seen before. the tip slices through air and hits its mark instantaneously, pinning the waiter from earlier to the wall he was lurking behind. zhongli rises from his seat, the tips of his hair glowing amber, and promptly knocks the man out with a blow to his neck. the waiter lets out a choked sound, then slumps unconscious. a crumpled piece of paper falls from his pocket. 
instructions. zhongli understands what’s happened the moment he picks up the piece of parchment. most likely sent because of the swindling incident yesterday. a desperate last-resort attempt at ridding the millelith of a witness. 
dexterous fingers begin to unfold the note. 
but why implement such an unskilled assassin? they barely had any killing intent whatsoever, else they would have been noticed sooner. there are no weapons other than this dagger on them either... his eyes swiftly scan the contents of the note, and all at once, everything falls into place.
the tea. he should’ve realized it sooner. 
the clatter of rattling dishes sounds from behind him, and he spins on his heels, staring wide-eyed—
red red red stains your hand and drips through your fingers, spilling out of your mouth and splattering the ground. red. your throat makes a garbled noise, not unalike the one made by the waiter just moments before, and your eyes dilate out of focus, rapidly glazing over. red.
you collapse in your chair, and all he can see is red. 
picking you up carefully in his arms, he closes his eyes (from the red red—) and teleports to the pharmacy. 
a single plead hangs in the air. 
you jolt awake, hand flying to your mouth and chest heaving anxiously. you can still taste the metallic tang of blood. your blood. 
then, as you’re trembling from what could have been a brush with death, firm arms wrap themselves around you, tucking you securely into a warm chest. 
“shh... it’s okay. it’s okay.”
a low voice murmurs reassurances to you, cradling you in safety and tranquility. zhongli runs his hand through your hair soothingly, bringing you down from the frantic state you’d awoke to, and now you can recognize where you are. zhongli’s living room. you’re settled on his lap, gathered in his hold, and you can feel his steady breathing against you, a stark contrast to your own labored breaths. it’s when he’s sensed that you’ve regained rationality that he begins to explain. 
“you were out for a few hours and collapsed due to the poisoning that was originally intended for my consumption. i sincerely apologize for that. it was an unfortunate mishap.”
his voice is smooth and saccharine sweet as he talks, a deep rumble that you can feel as you lay your face on his chest. he takes it on himself to explain a little further of what happened while you were unconscious, which you are grateful for so you can sort your... thoughts out, from before the interruption.
(while he brushes over the matter of carrying you in his arms rather perfunctorily, it still lights a warm flame in your heart. you want this to work out. desperately.)
when his narration peters out to a natural quiet, the muffled hum of early morning workers bustling about outside, you ask the question that’s been on your mind since the very beginning of your outing. 
“is this,” you gesture to him, to you, to the comfort, the hugs, the love, “because of guizhong too?”
understanding finally washes over zhongli’s face in subtle waves, and he gives the most mesmerizingly fond smile to your doubting question. a rich chuckle bubbles up from his chest, the endearing tinge to it only pushing your slight confusion forward. 
“ah, so this is what your previous question was mentioning.”
his eyes soften, the smudge of red under them only making the gold of his irises bloom even further. the hazy look in his eyes makes you feel like he’s drifting. you can recognize that well enough.
(drifting away from you, a faint bite of a bitter voice whispers.)
“yes, i did love guizhong. she’d departed from this land all too soon for me to convey it, and it is one of the few things i still regret to this day.”
the words spark a pang in your chest, the sharp, tingling-sour kind that reminds you of unripe sunsettias and overly spiced mint, but you take a deep breath and it fades. you should hear him out. you need to. you want to.
“i retold my memories with her to you because they were... my happiest memories. they were all i had to speak of, other than the redundant miscellaneous knowledge i’ve retained over the years. i’d thought you’d rather hear of happy experiences rather than the long tangents i can run myself off of. i’ve been properly chastised by this incident nevertheless.”
he gently tilts your head up from where it’s buried in the front of his silk shirt, wiping away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. you sniffle and wait for him to finish speaking, chest already lightening. 
“however, remember this— while i did love guizhong, you are not a mere semblance of her for me to retain by my side.”
he calls your name softly, reverently.
“my love, you are not a replacement. the one i’m in love with now is you.”
relief, warmth, and love love love surges in your chest altogether as he smiles gingerly, and you cup his face with your own hands, feeling the heat of his flushed cheeks against your palms. 
his lips are plush, soft against your own chapped ones as you draw him into a kiss spelling all the things you couldn’t say out loud. that you were frustrated at the thought of being a rebound for him. that you were terrified at the thought of dying with regrets. that you were unimaginably relieved at his explanation. 
that you love him too. 
zhongli takes it all into stride, leading your hands to rest on his waist as his own cup the back of your head and nape of your neck. he kisses fully, wholeheartedly, lips moving tenderly against yours, giving back what you’re bringing forward to him, for him, in equal measure. it feels right. 
thank you, zhongli.
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pinkteapotwriting · 3 years ago
Note
I’ve been thinking. I see a lot of dom!marauders or them being experienced. But what if it was the opposite? Like y/n is experienced and perhaps a dom, while the boys are virgins (or just had little experience)? it makes me all soft 🥺. Like Y/N could be their best friend/fifth marauder (whichever you choose), and they like ask her to be their first time and it’s all blushy for the boys (them being subs, a few tears of pain for them) go crazy! It’s been on my mind for weeks!
Marauders x Fem!reader
Warning : unprotected sex, cursing, Dom!reader, pretty chill I think, you know, for smut
Word count : 1830
Thanks for being so patient, I hope you like it cause it took me forever to do this. It's a bit heavy on the dialogue but oh well
---
Surprise, surprise.
It was raining at Hogwarts. The Scottish countryside is taking on its usual demeanor of moisture in this season. Not that you minded, that just meant you got to spend the day with all of your favourite boys. You Sirius and James were giggling away in the corner while Remus was trying his best to ignore you all and read, but you figured you could peak his interest.
“Okay Pads, what’s your body count?”
“I’ve never killed anybody, but trust me Snivelus has come close.”
“No you dork, how many people have you slept with?”
“I’m not answering that!”
“I’m not gonna slut shame you Sirius.”
“He’s definitely not worried about being slut shamed Y/N” James snorted.
“Like you’re any better off than I am you prick.”
“Cut it out, there’s no need to call each other names. Are you both virgins then?”
“Well, yeah I guess.”
James was much more embarrassed than he needed to be.
“What about you Remmy, have you done anything at all?”
“Ask Sirius.”
“I already did ask Sirius!”
“Ask Sirius.”
“Oh my god why are you all so embarrassed there’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m just surprised is all. You guys are all really attractive and kind people so I never thought you’d be inexperienced and you’ve dated plenty of girls.”
Remus shut his book.
“Not that it’s any of your business Y/N but i’ve at least given or received a hand job or two before.”
“Why’d you tell me to ask Siri- ooooooooh.”
Sirius had his face in his palms.
“Can we change the subject please.”
James patted his shoulder comfortingly.
“It’s okay Pads. It’s not like the opportunity never arose, we were all just waiting for the right person.”
“Aw well I hope you find them soon, I care about you all so much and you deserve the world.”
Sirius was still groaning into his hands.
“She’s so fucking oblivious.”
Remus chuckled.
“Quite.”
Quite what? Confused definitely.
“I don’t understand.”
The room’s silence was overwhelming, until James took a deep breath and all eyes were drawn to him.
“Sirius and Remus obviously like each other and I’m not going to deny my attraction to either of them.”
“Then why don’t you-”
“It doesn’t feel complete. See we already found that someone, it’s you Y/N.”
“Really? You guys want me that way?”
James shrugged meekly.
“If you’ll have us.”
“I’ve always felt that way about you. I just never wanted to risk our friendship, but if you feel the same then I’d love to.”
Sirius’s head popped out.
“Right now?”
“Ha ha, no we don’t have to right now.”
“Well what are we waiting for, to get to know each other. I know James too well actually.”
You rolled your eyes and turned to probably the most level headed one, but Remus was giving you puppy eyes. You were so drawn to him you walked across the room and cupped his face with your right hand.
“What’s wrong honey?”
“Waited so long already, love. Don’t wanna wait any longer.”
“Jamie, do you want this too?”
“Yes please.”
“Such good manners baby, so I have everyone’s consent then?”
“Very much so.”
“Enthusiastic consent.”
“If you don’t do something I’m going to combust.”
You smirked at Sirius’s comment.
“You don’t get to combust until I say you do, understand?”
“Ooo scary.”
“So be it.”
You took hold of Remus’s hands and placed them on your hips.
“I know you’ll be a good boy for me Remus, won’t you?”
He swallowed thickly and nodded.
“I’ll be good for you Y/N.”
“I know you will Jamie. It’s Siri I’m worried about. Why don’t we show him what he’s missing out on? Lie back against the pillows for me, both of you.”
“What about me?”
“You can watch for now, learn how to follow their example.”
He huffed.
“Suit yourself.”
You knew your usual roles in the bedroom, so you were trying your best not to be too stern. But still, you needed to teach Sirius his place.
You lifted up the bottom of James' shirt and kissed his hip bone delicately. He got more and more ansty as you drifted your direction to the middle and down, and down, and down.
You very happily undid his belt and pulled off his pants. The state of his arousal was much more noticeable now.
“Can I suck your cock Jamie? Would you like that?”
“Yes please.”
“Good boy, Remmy can you spit on my hand please?”
You held your palm up to his mouth expectantly, but he seemed hesitant.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed sweetie, never for doing what I ask.”
He nodded and did what he was told and immediately you felt your clit throb. Having control over these three boys was certainly a power trip. Knowing you were the first person to make James tremble like this as you engulfed his cock expertly was definitely a turn on. As you bobbed up and down on James’ impressive cock, you rubbed the bulge in Remus’s trousers. The whines the two boys were making was truly music to your ears. You lifted with a pop.
“Alright Siri, are you ready to be good now?”
“Yes ma’am”
“Did you like what you were seeing?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Do you wanna try and make Remmy feel good?”
“I’ve never sucked-”
“I know, but I’m here to help you baby.”
You’ve never seen Sirius so nervous, so quiet.
“What I’m gonna get you to do first is what you do when you jerk Remmy off, Okay? Just spit on his cock and move your hand up and down alright?”
Remus shuddered as he watched Sirius in his submissive state.
“Good job Siri, look how happy you’re making Remmy. Now you can start by sucking the head, like this.”
James whimpered, and soon Remus was making the same noises. You placed your palm on Remus’s stomach to keep him from bucking his hips. Much to James disappointment you pulled away from him again.
“Okay Sirius, don’t forget to breathe through your nose and make sure you keep your teeth tucked behind your lips, there we go that’s it. Hollow your cheeks now too. How does that feel Remus?”
“F-feels good.”
“Yeah? Sirius is being such a good boy now. Is Siri gonna make you cum?
“Y-yes.”
You grabbed hold of Sirius’s curly locks and pushed him down farther, making him gag and tear up. The vibrations making Remus cum instantly. You pulled Sirius off once Remus started squirming at the uncomfortable feeling of overstimulation.
“Did you swallow? Show Remmy.”
Remus groaned when he saw Sirius stick out his tongue, and you did too.
“Y/N”
James' voice was raspy.
“Yes baby?”
“Wanna make you feel good, wanna fuck you.”
“Want me to Ride you Jamie?”
“Please.”
“Okay, but since this is your first time you might not last that long alright?”
“That’s okay, Sirius can take over after me.”
“Alright well you lie back and I’ll take care of you. Sirius, you wait like a good boy and I’ll help you out in a second. If you want you can get Remus to suck you off while you wait. Teach him like I taught you.”
You were suddenly aware of how you were still wearing all of your clothes so you hopped off the bed to quickly strip them off and you found yourself smirking at the expression of pure need and desire on James’ face.
You straddled his waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek before aligning his cock with your entrance. Inch by inch you and down on him as he clutched the sheets below him.
“This alright Jamie?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Perfect, can I move now?”
“Yes please.”
You raised your hips up, but before you could bring them back down James snapped his hips up to yours.
“James, fuck.”
But he didn’t seem to care, with one hand resting on your hip and one fondling your breast he kept his steady rhythm that was taking your breath away. Sirius and Remus were no longer enjoying their own pleasure, but enjoying the sight of yours. You reached down to rub your clit, but Sirius pulled your hand away and replaced it with his own.
“Like this Y/N?”
“Just like that baby, doing so good for me.”
Remus squeezed in between James and Sirius to suck on the tit that James wasn’t occupying.
“Boys- I’m gonna cum fuck-”
It’s funny how in public James could be such a little shit, but now all you saw was this wide eyed trembling figure that you got to take care of and fuck it sure was enticing especially when he said things like this.
“Please cum, wanna make you feel good Mommy please please please.”
“Fuck-”
As soon as you clenched around him as you hit your high James was spurting white hot cum into the depths of your pussy. Thank god for wizard contraceptives.
You didn’t really get to bask in the moment however, since Sirius was pulling you from James out of his own desperation. He had you lying on your back.
“I need you”
“I know I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time, go ahead love.”
Not that Sirius was significantly smaller than James, but he had an easier time going inside after you had come already. Your legs found their home wrapped around his waist as soon as he found his pace.
“Y/N, I don’t think I’m going to last long.”
“That’s okay love, this is about you. Be a good boy for me and cum whenever you need.”
“It’s kinda embarrassing though.”
You cupped his cheeks and pulled his lips to meet yours.
“No need to be embarrassed- Doing such a good job Siri your cock feels so good inside of me.”
He falls down to hold his weight on his forearms, moving even faster than before.
“M’close Y/N”
“Go on and cum baby, feels so good.”
He whimpered into your neck and you soothed him by stroking his hair. Eventually he did roll off from you, unfortunately.
“You guys never told me you were subs.”
“When I’m with Remus I’m a dom.”
“Makes sense, I’d quite like to see that actually.”
Remus cleared his throat.
“Does that mean we get to do this again cause I never actually got to-”
“Of course Remmy, it just kind of makes sense doesn’t it.”
Sirius chuckled.
“Yeah, I mean it didn’t take long for James to be calling you Mommy.”
“It’s kinda sweet though, has Remus ever called you Daddy?”
“Not yet, but I feel like we’re on the brink of something big here.”
Now Remus and James were looking at each other like maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
You personally did not have any complaints; Sirius however would probably have some when you reminded him he couldn’t dom you though.
He’d have to learn the hard way.
---
@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @midnightgremlin @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev @agalandhermarvelobsession
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darling-i-read-it · 3 years ago
Text
Pretty Boy
Leon Kennedy x fem!reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: slight suggestive tones
Author’s Note: italics are flashbacks! I loved this concept and I really wanna write something drawn out about it (i’ve had this idea with ethan and leon for months but haven’t written it down yet) so it was nice to dip my toes in!
Requested: by anon, Leon kennedy and a female reader they dated after raccon city incident but they break for whatever reason and in infinite darkness they reunite and realize how much they love each other
Summary: the request
I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator
(not my gif)
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You had never been in the white house before this. You were capable and talented but the white house had never quite been your speed. You preferred to do things with the BSAA where you could. Apparently though, this upcoming problem was going to be a problem that needed a member of the BSAA on hand. When they called Chris Redfield he sent you in, knowing that you were the best he had.
You walked across the carpet into the room you had been sent to.
“You must be Y/N,” a woman sitting at the table said. She stood up and shook your hand. You gave her a kind smile and nodded. “I’m Shen May. This is Jason and this is Patrick,” she said, gesturing to the two other men in the room.
“Great. Now we’re just waiting on one more,” Patrick said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Yes,” Shen May explained. “Leon Kennedy is on his way.” Your eyes went wide.
“Leon Kennedy is the fifth agent?” you asked.
“Yes. He’s more than capable, do you have a problem with that?” You shook your head quickly. The opposite of a problem actually.
You remembered meeting Leon like it was yesterday. He had a gorgeous smile and such kind eyes. You held those eyes close to your heart in trying times, even years after you had broken up. It had been so long you couldn’t even remember why you had broken up. You had met each other in Raccoon City and dated for about a year after that. You were pretty sure you had broken up due to schedules conflicting. You never saw each other much in the end.
“No, just surprised is all,” you said.
“Isn’t he the guy who saved the President’s daughter?” Patrick asked. You smiled a bit to yourself. That sounded like Leon.
===
Leon was in the helicopter as you had this conversation below. He looked down at the papers they had given him on this. Pictures of all four of you were on different sheets. Leon’s eyes lingered on your picture. The picture had been taken when you were caught off guard but you still looked beautiful.
He had a hard time not smiling down at the pictures.
You reminded him of a time where he was more innocent. Before all of this had affected him.
You sat with him on the train as it rumbled underneath you. Sherry and Claire were inside but the two of you were sitting outside, watching the tunnel as it went by. You were watching for other enemies to sneak their way out before you got a chance to escape.
Leon couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over. He had his hand on your thigh absentmindedly. You had met a little less than 24 hours ago but he was already fiercely protective of you.
You blew a piece of hair out of your face.
“And to think, you only got involved in this because you were late to work,” you said, laughing gently. You rocked your head back and met his blue eyes. “You’re kinda dumb pretty boy.” He chuckled, feeling the butterflies flutter in his chest.
“You’re here too!”
It may have been the worst day of his life but he was so grateful to come out of it with you, Sherry and Claire. Then he lost you. This damn job had taken too much.
The helicopter landed and he rushed in, saving Patrick from a zombie and heading to the President.
He saw you before he saw the President. You locked eyes. You fought the urge to throw your arms around him just to smell him again. This was a job, you had a job to do.
“There’s zombies on the perimeter,” Leon said and it was like he was saying it just to you.
“We figured,” you said, giving him a sly smile.
====
You and Leon didn’t have much of a chance to chat until you got on the submarine. Jason had given everyone orders but they weren’t until the next morning. You sat in your small room, checking your guns and cleaning them.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in!”
The door opened. You looked up and met Leon’s eyes. You sat up straight on your bed.
“Leon,” you muttered. “Fancy seeing you here,” you said. He laughed a bit and shut the door behind him. He leaned up against it. The room was so small, he was no more than five feet away from you. Almost close enough to touch.
“I didn’t know you’d be on this job,” he explained.
“Are you unhappy I am?”
“No, no,” he said, quickly. You smiled slyly and glanced down at your hands. He held his eye contact with you. “I just didn’t know.”
“I’m glad you’re here. You look really good Leon. How long has it been? Five years? You haven’t gotten a different haircut, pretty boy.” He lightly blushed at the nickname, just like he did all those years ago.
“Do you remember why we broke up?” he asked. “Sorry to be blunt about it, I just cannot think of a real reason.” You shrugged.
“We were just getting into the meat of the job. It was too much to handle when we were handling both of us I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess. God that was so long ago.” He sat down beside you on the bed but not close enough for your thighs to be brushing. “So do you have a boyfriend?” You laughed, looking down at your fiddling fingers.
“No I don’t.” You looked up at him. “Do you have a-”
Before you could even finish the question he had his lips on yours. You breathed in his breath, taken aback. He had his hands on your cheeks, leaning over at you. He started to pull away a bit, the worry setting in that you didn’t feel the same way but you just came back with double the intensity, leaning over him and throwing your arms around his neck.
You pulled away and met his eyes, those startling blues.
“Glad you feel that way too,” he whispered.
“Yeah, I don’t think I ever stopped feeling that way.” You backed up a bit, letting your fingers linger on the side of his neck. “We have a job to do here. We should focus.”
“Fuck the job,” he said and you both giggled.
“After this job is done I won’t leave your side for a month.”
“You wanna give this a go again? That was quick.”
“Is that not what you wanna do?”
“Oh no, that is exactly what I wanna do. I don’t think I’ve had a moment of emotional peace since we broke up.” You grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“You’re gonna regret this Kennedy. I’m gonna be extra clingy.”
“Not as clingy as me in 1998, I promise.”
Resident Evil Tag List: @ceruleanrainblues, @chloe-online , @alexxavicry
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blushled · 4 years ago
Text
Love | Dallas Winston
MASTERLIST
other Tumblr: sunkissedspidey
taglist is open!
requests are open!
pairing: Dallas Winston x female!reader
summary: Your relationship with Dally was always weird, you weren’t dating and you definitely weren't just friends. But after he almost loses you, he realizes just how much he needs you.
warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), language, angst, fluff, etc.
word count: 3.7k+
a/n: Please forgive me for how gross and choppy this is! This is the first thing I’ve written in months!! Sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!
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Your relationship with Dally had always been a little weird. Not by much, but definitely compared to the other guys.
You were the only chick in the group, and everyone in it had a phase at some point where they were completely enamored with you, all expect for Darry, mostly because he saw you as a little sister. But it was always special with Dally.
You had met Dally, and the rest of the guys, when you were 15, right after he had gotten back to Oklahoma from New York. You two were always close, and you were the only person he had ever opened up to, so it's no wonder that you two had lost your virginities to each other, and still have casual sex to this day. The both of you had an unspoken agreement to not tell anyone, but Soda had walked in on the two of you one time, so now it was only you three that knew the secret.
Anyways, regardless of the hours upon hours of sex that was shared between you at least once a day, your relationship was closer than anyone else in the group, even stronger than yours and Soda's, despite the fact that the two of you had been best friends since second grade.
You never really cared about the fact that Dally was sleeping with other people. I mean, it's not like you weren't doing the same thing. You'd had sex with Dally, then Soda one night after you had both gotten absolutely hammered beyond belief, and even Peter Torlini from school a few times. But it always was better with Dally. Not just because he was amazing in bed, but because you were positive that you were head over heels in love with him. And, goddamn, if he didn't feel the same way, he was amazing at faking it. Like, you don't always have that sort of connection with someone when you have sex. Your bodies became one, and you knew exactly what the other needed at that exact moment. Who knows... maybe he was just good in bed and knew what you needed because you had been having sex for so long, or maybe... just maybe; he felt the same way for you that you did for him.
***
"Fuck, Dally! Oh, my god!" You moaned out, his cock so deep inside of you that it had your head spinning.
"Goddamn," He breathed out, his face close to yours, same with the rest of his body, as he pumped into you at a fast, steady pace, a slight sheen of sweat covering both of your trembling, naked bodies. "You're so fucking good and tight for me. 'M not gonna last much longer, Y/N." He groaned out, his breathing heavy, along with yours, as he thrusted even deeper. He wrapped his arms underneath your head, tugging on your hair as you scratched down his back.
"God, please cum for me, Dallas." You moaned, his pace quickening even more so, leaving you screaming as your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching so tightly around his cock that he couldn't help but cum, quickly pulling out and helplessly spilling his seed all over your stomach as he let out load, drawn out moans, before his muscles gave out and he collapsed back on top of you.
Your hands ran into his hair as he gave you another hot, passionate kiss before rolling over next to you on your bed, reaching over onto the night stand to grab two smokes and a lighter, passing one to you before lighting both of them up, as you both smoked, and exhaled, simultaneously, your brains started to feel foggy with euphoria as the nicotine began to enter your bloodstreams at the same time.
***
A few weeks later, you and the rest of the guys were sitting around, just talking about nothing in particular, only until Two-Bit brought up a fun topic.
"I got it!" He said, a large smirk on his face. "Best lay... Aaand... Steve, go!" Pointing at the brunette with both hands shaped as guns.
"Uhm... Probably Gracie. Big tits." He laughed out, a smoke in between his teeth.
Everyone erupted with laughter, Ponyboy and Johnny rolling their eyes and turning their attention to the cartoons on the small television.
"Y/N! Your turn!" Two-Bit said, laughing as he took a sip of his third beer.
"Not telling." You laughed as you sat on the countertop. You rolled your eyes heavily and let out an annoyed sigh as everyone booed at you. "Ugh, fine," You said, closing your eyes. "Uhm, I'm not saying the name, but he was tall with brown eyes, massive dick, and goddamn, he knew how to use it well, dark hair, and also the best kisser I've ever met before."
    Dally automatically knew that you were talking about it, a smirk spreading across his face as you enthused about just how good the "mystery man" was in bed.
*** You and Dally sat in your old, run down car, eating Dairy Queen and talking about nothing in particular.
"You wanna know something funny?" He asked before licking the melting ice cream off of his waffle cone.
"Always." You smirked, turning the music playing on the radio down a bit so you could hear him more clearly.
"You're the best I've ever had, too." He said, smirking as your cheeks lit up a bright pink shade at his words.
"And why's that, Mister Winston?" You laughed, your eyes meeting his again as he leaned in closer to you, using his free hand to circle around your clit over your underwear, your skirt covering Dally's hand from the wrist down, your eyes slowly rolling back as you moaned quietly into his mouth.
"That's just one of the reasons. You're so goddamn sensitive and I fucking love it." He laughed when you whined after his touched left you, a small huff of anger leaving your lips at the loss of contact.
After a few seconds, you grabbed his ice cream and shoved it in an empty cup, his eyes meeting your with confusion before you moved over the center console to straddle him, your lips immediately going to his as you grinder your hips together, small groans leaving both of your mouths. You tugged at his leather belt, unbuttoning his jeans after, sliding his boxers down, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock.
    He reached around your waist and lifted your tight shirt off of you quickly, his soft lips moving to kiss all over your breasts and he left the occasional hickey, his cool, slender fingers i clipping your bra, before he started kissing up and down your neck until you were begging for more.
    "Dally, please." You whimpered, your body trembling from want.
    He moved your underwear over to the side, right before his cock slammed into you as he pulled your hips flush against his, both of you letting out moans because of how fucking amazing it felt.
"Fuck, Dally! Shit, you feel so fucking good!" You screamed out, glad that it was night and that no one was around the two of you.
"Goddamn, you're so fucking tight-" He said before a groan cut him off, his hands gripping your waist even tighter, bruises sure to be left there (not that you were complaining in the slightest).
    One of his hands moved down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh, fast circles as his eyes rolled back, your head dipping down to suck dark purple bruises onto the soft, pale skin of his neck, his hips thrusting up to meet yours in sync, his cock hitting inside of you deeper and deeper with each thrust, the other of you chasing yourself highs as best as you could.
    Your eyes clenched shut tightly as you bit down on muscles of his shoulder, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly that you could barley breathe. Dally's arms wrapped around you, scratching up and down your back and you tugged harshly at his hair, knowing that he was coming close.
    "Cum for me." You whispered into his ear, biting down slightly on his earlobe, and then that was it. He came with a cry of your name and a load groan, his cum coating your walls as you clenched around him tighter, his teeth sinking into your breasts as he continued to thrust up into you until his muscles gave out. Your collective breathing was heavy as you both came down from your highs, his hair sweaty as you ran your fingers through it, the smell of sex and cigarettes lingering in the small, cramped car.
    "Goddamn," He said, laughing as you sat back, moving your hair out of your eyes. "That was fucking amazing."
    "Isn't it always?" You smiled cockily, grinding your hips once more, causing another load moan to come from Dally's throat, partially because it felt amazing and partially because he was so fucking sensitive.
    "What'd I turn you into?" He smirked, biting down on the skin of your neck softly, his perfect teeth skimming your jaw as he made eye contact with you again.
    "A sex addict." You said simply, a smile breaking across your face as Dally started laughing at your blatant tone, his head tipping up to kiss you softly and slowly.
    The two of you had made an agreement not to do anything with anyone else after a while, figuring that it would save the both of you from getting jealous because, even though you weren't official, the both of you were super mad every time you walked in on the other with a different person.
*** "Oh my god, fuck off!" You yelled, laughing as Soda had beaten you in poker for the fifth time that night, the rest of the guys whooping and cheering as you flipped them all of, taking your shirt off, a black bra the only thing covering your chest. Strip poker was a weird game to play with a big group of your closest friends, but it had been a favorite of everyone's for years. Dally stood in the corner, a cigarette in between his teeth as he stared you down, his eyes dark with oust and squinted with anger.
"Alright," You said, standing up and putting your shirt back on, boos coming from the guys. "I think that's enough for me tonight."
You made your way to the bathroom of the Curtis' house, putting your hair up in a ponytail before you washed the dark eyeliner surrounding your eyes off, using a rag to dry your face before changing into an extra t-shirt and pajama shorts that you always kept there, since everyone usually spent the night there.
You walked out into the dark hallway, making your way to the living room before Dally pushed you up against one of the walls, his lips meeting yours harshly as one of his hands made its way into your loose shorts, his long, slender figures toying with your clit as you tried your best to control the volume of your moans.
"Never, fucking never, pull that shit again. You got that? You know how fucking hot you are, and you know how those dudes think about you." He said, his voice low and commanding, but a tone of sweetness underlying in it.
You knew that he wasn't mad, he was just worried, even though there's no way in hell that he would ever admit that to anyone. He was your best friend, and you were his.
*** "Oh, come on, Dally. It's not even that bad. It's just a movie." You whined, gripping onto his denim jacket.
"It's a stupid movie." He laughed as your head sunk even lower, your lower lip stick out as you widened your eyes, your face jokingly pleading.
    "Dallyyy, pleaseee?" You dragged out, kissing his neck softly.
    "Fine. But if I hate it, it's on you." He laughed as you squealed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. And after a second you both looked at each other and then moved away, realizing that you were acting more like a couple than like fuck buddies.
    "I'm- uh- I'm gonna go home. Gotta get ready, ya know?" You said, standing up from the couch at Dally and Buck's place, grabbing your purse and jacket, and waving goodbye to the brunette that had your heart.
***
    As you made you way back over to Dally's, you checked how you looked in the reflection of a storefront window. Your tight white t-shirt clung to your body perfectly, your black ripped jeans hugged your frame, and you had on your favorite jacket. A thick, worn, black leather one that all of the guys had gotten you for your birthday after they had pooled their money together, a switchblade, a pack of smokes, and a lighter in one of the pockets. Your black eyeshadow and eyeliner was done perfectly, and was an amazing contrast to your bright red lipstick.
    "Dally!" You smiled, wrapping him in a small, short hug when we opened his door, throwing a shirt on and leading you down the street towards the drive in.
***
    "I'm gonna go get some popcorn." You said to Dally, smiling as you stood up from one of the cheap, grey folding chairs.
    "Be careful." He said, handing you some money before turning his attention to the movie that he claimed was stupid.
    "Medium popcorn and a large Coke with two straws, please." You said to the worker at the concessions stand, handing him the money in exchange for your food and drink.
    You walked out of the concessions stand, making your way back until some shuffling on the side of the building caught your attention. You turned your head, and the second you did, you instantly regretted it. You saw Dally making out with Polly Winchester, her hands running through his hair as he pinned her against a wall. His eyes met with your for a second and he instantly pulled away, his lips smeared with her red lipstick and his breathing hard.
    "Oh shit." He said quietly, walking over to you, trying to take your hands in his, put you instantly pulled away.
    "You fucking asshole." You said calmly, turning away towards the exit before he grabbed your arm, and then you snapped. "Don't fucking touch me!" You screamed, the people sitting near you turning to look at the two of you.
    "Y/N, I'm sorry." He said, trying his best to reach out for you agin until you took the top off of your drink and threw it in his face.
    "Fuck. You." You said clearly, finally being able to turn and walk away, tears filling your eyes as you walked back to your house.
***
    A few days later, practically in the middle of the night, you were sitting on your bed, a cigarette in one of your hands as you used the other to flip through your favorite book, music softly playing on your record player in the background as you tried your best to ignore the ache in your heart at the fact that Dally was practically fucking a chick against a wall right in front of you.
    A knock on your front door shook you out of your daze, ashing your cigarette before making your way down the hall to your front door. The second you opened it, your heart sank, your stomach dropping as you saw Dallas standing there, a pleading look on his face.
    "C-can I come in?" He asked quietly, his hands stuffed into his pocket.
    You didn't say anything, you just opened your door more and stepped to the side, allowing him to walk into your small house.
    "What do you want? Another pack of smokes? I have some on the counter and a Coke in the fridge and then you can go back to the drive in so that you don't have to pay." You said blankly, sitting down on your couch as flipping through a book that was on your coffee table.
    "No, I don't need any of that. I just wanna talk." He said, standing next to the couch awkwardly.
    "About what? About how you basically fucked Polly during a movie that we were supposed to be watching together? About how you ditched me to go stick your dick in some whore on the side of a goddamn building?!" You said, not being able to control your volume as you stood up looking at him, absolutely fuming.
    "Yeah, pretty much." He answered, not knowing what else to say.
    "You promised me, Dally. You fucking promised." You said, your eyes boring into his.
    "I know, but listen-" He tried to say before you cut him off.
    "No, Dally. You listen to me. You are such a lying fucking asshole! I can't believe I ever thought that we could be something other than friends with benefits." You said, your eyes becoming puffy. "Fuck you, Dallas Winston. I never want to see you again." You said calmly through your teeth, silently seething. You turned towards the hallway to go into your room, before Dally grabbed your arm, your eyes meeting his again, both of your eyes red as silent tear streamed down your faces simultaneously.
    "Please, Y/N." He said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. "Please don't leave me."
    "You've never listened to me when I've asked you not to leave... Why should I listen to you?" You asked quietly.
    "Because I love you, Y/N. More than I've ever loved anything in my entire life. More than smokes and parties and beer. More than sleep and sex and rumbles. So please, Y/N... Please don't leave. And I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
    "I love you too, Dally. So much more than you'll ever be able to know."
    At this point, his hands were tangled in yours, your faces close together as you both finally admitted your true feeling for one another after all of this time.
    "You do?" He asked, shock evident in his voice. "You love me?"
    "Of course I love you, Dally. I've loved you ever since we were kids." You whispered, your lips only inches apart.
    "Can I kiss you?" He asks softly, his hands going slowly and tenderly up to your neck.
    "Please."
    And with that, you lips met in the most perfect kiss you could ever think of, like your lips were pieces of a puzzle and were made to fit perfectly together. After a few minutes it grew more passionate, more lust filled.
    His hands went down to the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly as you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist. The two of you continued kissing as he walked the both of you to your room. He placed you softly on your bed, kissing down your body as he lifted an oversized white t-shirt, that just so happened to be his, over your head. He kissed all over your chest and your neck, only stopping for a few seconds to shed off his leather jacket and black shirt, before immediately going back to your lips to kiss you as you moaned into each others mouths while your hips grinned against each other's.
    "Dally, please." You moaned, your hands smoothing over his back.
    "Please what?" He asked, looking at your with swollen red lips, a beautiful contrast to his pale skin.
    "Make love to me." You whispered, your lips close to each others until he closed the distance between your mouths.
    He kissed down your neck, chest, and stomach again as he pulled your shorts off of you, moving to kiss your inner thighs as you whined from the feeling that you missed.
    He stood up again to unbuckle his belt, taking his pants off not shortly after. You pulled him back on top of you, reveling in the feeling of his bare skin against yours. He took his length in is hands, lining it up with your entrance before stopping for a few seconds to stare deeply into his big brown eyes.
    "I love you." He whispered.
    "I love you too." You replied before you met your lips with his again.
    The second he thrusted slowly inside of you, you both let out moans at the amazing feeling. he started with a slow, tender pace as you breathed heavily into each others mouths, your eyes still staring into the others.
    "Oh my god." You moaned out, eyes finally shutting tightly as he continued to pump into you, his pace quickening as his groans started to grow louder and loader, along with your moans.
    "Fuck, I love you so-" He said, getting cut off as he groaned loudly. "I love you so much."
    "I love you too, Dally- Fuck!" You screamed, the feeling of him being inside of you so goddamn intense that you could barely speak coherently.
    And then it made sense. Every feeling that you had ever had for him made so much sense. Every time that he would look at you and smile at the completely ordinary thing you were doing, every time that he told you to call him when you got home, every time that his figures brushed against yours while watching a movie made sense. He had loved you even longer that you had loved him. From the second your eyes met his when you met, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you. He had never realized how much he needed to tell you until he almost lost you, until he realized how much he needs you.
    "Dally, I'm not gonna last much longer." You moaned, lips moving to kiss the sides of his clan shaven face and his smooth forehead.
    "N-neither am I. Fuck, please cum for me, Y/N. Please. God, I love you." He moaned before his head dipped down to meet your lips with his.
    And with a few more thrusts, you were completely spiraling underneath him, your whole body trembling as you came at this same time, his final few thrusts harder and deeper than before until he finally collapsed on top of you, his lips going to kiss your red cheeks as you both breathed heavily.
    "I love you so much. Please be mine, Y/N. Please." He said, his lips skimming yours.
    "I love you more, Dally. And I'll be yours, forever and ever and ever." And with that, you both fell asleep, all sweaty and gross. But you were sweaty and gross and happier than you had ever been before.
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alloftheimaginess · 3 years ago
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Domestic
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No one can stop me from writing domestic type shit for Emily and Spencer because they deserve it so much.
Sorry for the shitty writing and any mistakes. I wrote it in like fifteen minutes and was really proud of it because I thought it was so cute and this is the first thing I’ve posted in forever so go easy on me. Please enjoy though
Wordcount: 767
Warnings: Fluff. Fucking fluff
"Oh, girl" Kieran sings loudly as she sits at the kitchen cabinet drawing and I smile.
"Tell me what am I gonna do. I know I've got a guilty face. Girl I feel so out of place oh yeah yeah" I sing as I flip the crepe.
"Don't know where to go and who to see, yeah" Landry sings as he sips on his orange juice and I feel arms wrap around my waist.
"Good morning" she says kissing my neck.
"Good morning" I say and she hums, taking in the atmosphere.
"It smells absolutely amazing in here" she says and I smile.
"It's a rainy Sunday so you know what time it is mom" Kieran says.
"Banana crepes" Emily says.
"With chocolate chips" Avery says.
"With chocolate chips? We're going all out this morning" she says going over to her and she tickles her and she giggles loudly.
"You don't have to use chocolate chips, I'm not. I'm using strawberries. Everyone knows strawberry banana is the best combination" Landry says.
"Remember K you can not taste your brothers" I say.
"I know mommy" she says showing Emily her unicorn drawing.
"This is the best one yet K, it's going right on the fridge" Emily says and Kieran giggles and Emily uses the alphabet magnet to stick the fifth unicorn Kieran has drawn this week on the fridge and I turn the skillet off and I turn around with the plate.
"How did you sleep?" I ask plating the kids crepes and she grabs the juice out the fridge.
"You were tossing and turning all night. Are you okay?" She asks and I nod.
"Yeah, it was a rough night. I didn't realize I was disturbing you. I'm sorry" I say and she shakes her head, smiling at me.
"You're fine" she says and I hand her a plate and she kisses me and I kiss her back.
"Ewwww!" Kieran yells and I laugh pulling away.
"Eww?" I ask and she nods.
"Kisses are nasty" she says and Emily goes over to her and she plants kisses all over her face and she laughs and I laugh, helping Avery build her crepes.
"Hey Em, I think Landry is feeling a bit left out" I say and she pulls away from Kieran, looking at him and he shakes his head laughing and she grabs his face, planting kisses and he giggles trying to get free.
"You'll never escape the kiss monster, it wants to spread love everywhere it goes" she say turning to Avery and she gets up and runs off and Emily chases after her.
"Give me all the love!" She yells chasing her around the island.
"No love for you kiss monster" Avery giggles, dodging Emily's grab.
"Kiss monster is running low on energy. She needs a refill from mommy, she's the only source of energy" Emily says.
"Don't do it mom!" Kieran and Landry yell as Emily comes over to me and I laugh.
"Give me all the energy. Kiss monster has one more person to give love to" she says grabbing my face and I kiss her and she pulls away and sneaks around the island and Avery screams trying to get away and Emily grabs her and starts planting kisses all over her face.
"No kiss monster, don't give me love!" Avery screams through her giggles.
"Too late, kiss monster had to find someone else to be kiss monster so it's your turn" Emily says setting her down.
"Kiss monster needs energy" Avery yells running over to me and she climbs onto the chair, quickly pecking my lips before she turns around jumping down.
"Kiss monster is coming for you Kieran and Landry" she says smiling at them.
"No kiss monster. Spare me!" Kieran yells dramatically giggling the whole time and she jumps up, Landry doing the same and they run from Avery, the sounds of their giggles and Avery's roars filling the house and Emily wraps her arms around me.
"We probably should have waited until after breakfast" she says and I laugh nodding.
"Definitely" I say and Landry runs in.
"I need energy!" He yells and he kisses me before running off and Emily and I both start laughing.
"You started this" I say pulling away.
"Mom is the only source of energy now. Mommy needs a recharge!" I yell.
"Okay!" All three of them yell and I smile at Emily.
"Have fun kiss monster charger" I say.
"Well kiss monster charger needs the rest of your energy if I'm going to get through this" she says grabbing my chin before she kisses me.
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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago
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take me by the heart, take me by the hand // Elijah Mikaelson
A/N: An extension of the blurb I wrote on my blurb night a couple of weeks ago!! My taglists are open! If you would like to be added, drop me an ask and I’ll add you!! I hope you all like!
Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x GN!Reader
Warnings: jealousy, soulmates, pining, mutual pining, mentions of food.
Word count: 2.1k
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The sun was shining when Elijah Mikaelson began to understand jealousy in its unending torture. He wasn’t used to such an emotion. He wasn’t used to the blind rage that filtered through his body when he caught sight of you laughing with his brother. He wasn’t used to the want that would settle deep within his gut whenever he made you smile, laugh.
He supposed there was a sick juxtaposition in the fact that there he was, a creature of the night, sitting in the sunlight as he watched you laugh along to whatever story Klaus was currently telling.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t felt jealousy before, but Elijah had never experienced it to this extreme where he felt like the villain of a fairytale, desperate to steal the innocent love interest away and keep them for eternity.
“You wrestled a bear!” You gasp, bringing Elijah’s attention back to the room. Your eyes are  wide as you hang onto every word of Klaus’ story.
The narrator nods; a smug smile crossing his face as he begins to act out the crux of the story. “We had this newfound strength after we were turned by our mother,” Klaus explains, “And the bear was easily disgruntled, choosing me for its next meal.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, love,” Klaus croons; his smile turning to a smirk as he hears Elijah grit his teeth. “I chose to engage.”
“Why would you choose to do such a thing?” You demand; eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern for Klaus’ ability to make sane decisions. Elijah makes himself turn away; if he could, he would press away the furrow between your brows with a kiss, explaining that his brother was ever the exaggerator as he was an actor.
Klaus shrugs, lounging in his chair with a self-satisfied expression on his face. “Because I could and can,” He answers plainly, catching Elijah’s narrowed gaze from across the room and raising a single eyebrow in challenge.
Elijah doesn’t rise to the bait; doesn’t give himself the chance to. Instead, he leaves the room, feeling your frown on his back with every step he takes away from you.
“Have I done something to offend your brother?” You ask Klaus; your voice small as you stare at the doorway Elijah only walked through moments ago. Elijah had been off with you for weeks; staying in the room with you for limited amounts of time before stalking off to another room. He rarely spoke, but the soft timbre of his voice sent shivers down your spine with every word uttered. You couldn’t bear the thought of having offended the man you found yourself attracted to.
“You’ve done nothing, love,” Klaus reassures in a rare moment of affection. “My older brother just has some issues he needs to work out.”
“Oh,” You reply, falling quiet and remaining so for the rest of your time spent with the supernatural family.
----------
“Are you going to explain what is wrong with you, or are you going to stew in your feelings all night?” Klaus demands of his brother as soon as he enters the room, having seen you off only moments ago. The decanter of whisky sits open on the coffee table; one glass out of the two already filled halfway. Klaus helps himself to the other glass, pouring a knuckle’s length of the amber liquid.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Elijah states airily, bringing his glass to his lips. He knew full well that he was jealous; he knew that was distancing himself from you and his sibling, unable to bear the rising envy clawing at his throat. What pains him most is that he can how his distance affects you, how hurt you look when he returns clipped conversations. The furrow between your brows deepens and he feels like a monster for being the cause of it.
“Your behaviour in front of (Y/N),” Klaus explains, doing his best to keep the anger aimed at his brother at bay. “They think they’ve offended you.”
“(Y/N) could never offend me,” Elijah states vehemently.
“You’re going to have to explain that to them.”
“I will eventually,” Elijah sighs, finishing off his drink and quickly refilling it.
“Whatever it is, brother, you can tell me,” Klaus promises in a rare moment of softness.
“That’s the thing, brother,” Elijah begins, “I don’t know what it is. All I know is that I see you two interacting and I lose my mind to jealousy.”
“Ah,” Klaus whispers, a knowing smile on his face as he places his glass on the table. The younger of the two men stands, clapping his brother on the shoulder before leaving the room.
Klaus finds it hard to keep the smile off his face as he wanders the halls of his New Orleans home. His brother had found his soulmate and hadn’t realised it. Their mother had warned them of such magic; the natural magic of the earth that created two souls to be intertwined perfectly. Outwardly, Klaus didn’t put much stock in the belief, but he had seen his mother turn his siblings into monsters cursed with having to walk the night for an eternity. It would make sense for soulmate magic to enter the Mikaelson home once and for all.
Elijah doesn’t stand from the chair; he remains seated for the night, resting his chin on his hand as he tries to get to grip with the feelings roused in your presence. He can no longer deny the attraction he feels for you; can no longer ignore the fact that he would give everything to wake up in a morning with you beside him, but what he cannot explain is the darkness of the jealousy holding him in its grip.
He only leaves the chair when he hears your voice chiming off the stone walls of the compound they call home. Your laughter lightens the atmosphere of the house; bringing joy to a home that was so used to the darkness of Klaus’ moods.  
The kitchen is bright with the morning light as Elijah settles at the table; his gaze already fixed on Klaus and yourself. The former grabbing a box of cereal from the cupboard as you help yourself to the fridge for the milk.
It’s as you sit down that he begins to feel it. The sunlight catches you perfectly; your hair practically soaking up its rays as if you were to become the celestial being itself – the brightness radiating out of you with every laugh, every smile, and every animated gesture of your hands as you tell off Klaus for the fifth time already today. Elijah tightens his hand into a fist in an effort to keep the growing possessiveness at bay.
He didn’t know where it began; this dark urge to possess you. All he knew was that the majority of the time, his thoughts revolved around you along with the word ‘mine’ on repeat. The façade of the gentleman, so carefully crafted after a millennia wandering the earth, began to crumble in your presence. Elijah could feel the green eyed monster clawing its way through his body, its claws sinking in deeper with every friendly glance at any man that wasn’t him.
“It comes with finding your soulmate,” Freya announces to her younger brother; the earthy scent of sage blooming around her as she takes a seat next to him. Elijah raises a single eyebrow in question; not in the mood for futile conversation today. Freya represses the urge to roll her eyes as she elaborates, “The jealousy. The irrational anger. The want. It comes with finding your soulmate.”
“Soulmates are a myth,” Elijah counters, finding his gaze drawn to you – watching you talk to Klaus, laughing at one of his calmer moments. The very action has Elijah clenching his fists to keep the anger at bay.
Freya fixes her younger brother with an unimpressed look. “Elijah, you’re one of the oldest vampires in the world, and I’m a witch. We are the myths whispered around campfires.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Elijah wonders in awe. “I never thought I would have one,” He continues in a softer voice, thinking of his past lovers – they had never made his mind race, or his breath stop in his chest, they were never his last thought at night and his first thought in the morning.
You were, however.
Elijah meets the gaze of his wiser, older sister to find her already watching him with a fond smile on her face. “Go speak to (Y/N),” She urges in a soft voice, “Explain everything.”
With the support of his sister, Elijah makes his way to where you sit with Klaus. His younger brother already regaling you with one of his many stories about his past; the darker parts of each tale hidden away this early in the morning. Klaus pauses his tale as Elijah clears his throat. “Could I have a moment of your time?” Elijah asks of you, glancing between Klaus and yourself. Klaus raises an eyebrow but wisely remains quiet.
“Of course,” You murmur, standing from your chair, following the older gentleman to an alcove just down the hall from the kitchen.
“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour,” Elijah starts when he feels certain that his siblings aren’t listening in, “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way over the past couple of months. I’ve been coming to terms with some personal things and Freya, thankfully, explained the cause of such behaviour this morning.”
“Your apology is accepted, Elijah,” You laugh, smiling happily at the taller gentleman, taking note of how he seems closer to the Elijah you have come to know and love. “What did Freya explain if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind at all,” He answers, “You’re bound to find out eventually.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, Elijah!”
Elijah chuckles, smiling down at you indulgently. “I was jealous,” He explains; his face turning thoughtful. “I couldn’t figure out why. Whenever I saw you speaking or laughing with another man like Klaus or Kol, or even Marcellus though I know he’s happy with Rebekah, I was overcome with such intense jealousy that it was hard for me to get control of.”
“You were jealous?” You splutter, “Of what?”
“Of the men you so easily formed friendships with. I wanted to be the one you smiled at, that you laughed with.”
“I thought you hated me,” You confess timidly. “I thought I had broken an ancient vampire protocol and I had offended you.”
“You could never offend me,” Elijah states, “And I could never hate you, it’s rather the opposite.”
“The opposite?”
Elijah nods. “Freya explained to me the existence of a magic I once believed to not exist. I had never seen it; thus I could never state its truth. It wasn’t until Freya explained that the reason behind my jealousy and dark moods was that you are, indeed, my soulmate did I even remember that such a powerful magic exists on this planet.”
“Soulmate,” You breathe, peering up at Elijah through your lashes, “I’m your soulmate?”
“As I am yours,” Elijah swears, stepping that little bit closer to you.
“Vampires… witches… soulmates,” You whisper, unable to comprehend the change in your belief system.
“You’re not upset, are you?” Elijah asks, reaching for your hand. He need to know your feelings on this; should you not want the bond; he would take a step back. It would hurt, but he would do it for your happiness. Should you accept the bond, he would be a man in possession of the greatest living thing on earth – you.
“I’m not upset,” You promise, smiling at the original vampire, tangling your fingers together.
You place your free hand on Elijah’s chest, fully aware that you would not feel a heart beat under your palm. Even through the designer material of his perfectly tailored suit, you can feel the coolness of his skin and whilst many would be repulsed by the lack of warmth, you only feel further attraction for the man in front of you.
Elijah’s hand covers yours; the action speaking louder than any words could. He can feel the life thrumming through your veins; the vitality that punctuates the air with every breath you take. He feels drunk on his feelings for you; at a loss to understand how your paths crossing months ago could lead to a moment like this.
“I want a forever with you,” You whisper boldly, moving your hand to the back of Elijah’s neck.
“Forever and more,” Elijah promises; sealing the spoken vow with an unhurried kiss.
*****
The Originals taglist: @angelxnaa
Special fic tag: @elijahs-wife
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willowbleedsonpaper · 4 years ago
Text
Winter In The Shade VI
Part VI
Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader
W.C. : 2492
Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius’ fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter’s. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?
Warnings: None
A/N: I didn't proof read so I apologize for any mistakes.
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The distant chatter in the common room was nothing but a melody that accompanied your soft humming, moving around the room as you got ready. You found yourself alone in your dorm, your roommates long gone by then. You danced around your bed, your feet softly moving to the rhythm or the song stuck in your head as you laid your outfit for the night over the bed, a smile appearing on your face with an approving look. It wasn’t nothing that would make you stand out, but by no means it was something you would wear on a normal day around the Castle. You put it on gently, walking to the mirror as your smile brightened, you looked beautiful. Something you felt confident in, comfortable to wear for the night. You fell to the chair in front of the mirror, getting the silver necklace that would finish off the look for the night.
One more look at your reflection and you stood, standing straight “You’ll have fun.” you said to yourself through the reflection “You’ll have fun and make memories.” Your smile fell, the knot in your stomach tightening as you said. “You’ll find Sirius, dance and forget all this ever happened.” But did you truly want to forget?
You couldn’t deny that Sirius’ request had filled you with excitement when you forced yourself to stop pretending you were upset. You weren’t upset in the slightest, quite the opposite, actually. You were angry at yourself for feeling the way you did, for liking the interactions with Sirius even after you had asked him to stop. You had rolled your eyes when he flashed you with smiles from across the hall, glared at him when he sent dangerous winks in your direction while standing next to Regulus, you had turned on him and walked away when he crossed your path and even yanked your hand from your side as he brushed his hand against yours while walking through the halls. But there was no denying the butterflies waking up in your stomach when he smiled at you, the skip in your heart beat when you found him looking at you or the way your hand wanted to reach for the warmth of his. You were a confusing mess filled with guilt, what kind of friend will that make you?
You shook the thought from your head, looking at you one last time in the mirror before you left for the stairs of your common room. This is exactly why you’re doing this, you reminded yourself, you’re being a good friend. You repeated in your head as you descended to the common room, stopping in your steps “Reg?” you asked with a laugh, your voice high as he turned at the sound of your voice “What are you doing here?” you asked, hoping he didn’t see your mind crashing inside your head.
“I thought I’ll come here and walk you to the party like a proper date.” he said, standing from the chair “Memories, remember?” he said, his features completely relaxed.
He wasn’t supposed to be there.
You smiled at him “You didn’t have to.” you said, awkwardly placing your hands over his shoulders “You had something to do, didn’t you?” you reminded him “A class or something.”
He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly “ I’ll have time for that later, I only have today with you.”
You tilted your head, looking up at him with a soft smile “Oh, Regulus.” you whispered, lowering your hands as you wrapped your arms around his waist, his arms instantly holding you against him “You really didn’t have to.” you muttered.
“I think my best friend is more important than my tasks.” he said.
You frowned “Tasks?” you asked, moving to look back at him.
“Nothing important,” he told you “Shall we?” he moved to offer you his arm, one you gladly took as he led you outside. Walking in silence for a couple of minutes before you turned to him “Who let you inside my common room?” you asked, squinting at him.
He raised his eyebrows with a shrug “Myself,” he said simply “Answering a riddle, really? No wonder everyone is in and out of that common room.”
“Regulus!” you said with a squeal “Not everyone can answer those. It takes skill.”
He scoffed, both of you standing at the doors of the Great Hall, his eyes lowering to look at you “It takes a brain and common sense.” he replied, glancing between you and the party inside; a smile drawing itself over his lips as he watched the glint in your eyes, the excitement shining through. “Ready?” he asked, giving your hand a soft squeeze.
You turned to him, the glistening in your eyes never faltering as your smile only grew, reaching your eyes “Let’s make memories, Reg.”
*******
“Would you calm down?” said James, his body leaning against one of the pillars of the Great hall, his hand lazily holding a drink as he took a sip from it, his eyes looking over the cup and towards Sirius and his incessant pacing “Y/N doesn’t struck me as one to promise things lightly.” he said, Sirius soft scoff making him roll his eyes with a smile “She’ll show up.”
James patted Sirius on the back, the motion breaking Sirius’ gaze from the entrance, a scoff leaving his lips as he let the weight of his body fall against the wall “You don’t know that.” he said, fingers fidgeting with the rings carefully placed on his fingers “What am I doing, Prongs?” he asked, a look of disbelief taking over his grey orbs.
James laughed, throwing his head back in the air as he went to stand next to Sirius “Quoting the same words you told me years ago,” he said, placing a hand on Sirius’ shoulder as “You are screwed.” he said, repeating the same words Sirius once told James when he first starting liking certain redhead girl.
Sirius covered his face, his words muffled by his hands “Save me.” he cried playfully, the laughs of the two best friends only increasing in the corner of the Great Hall they had taken for themselves.
“Nah.” said James with a bright smile “I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a while. Better take advantage of it.”
Sirius bit his lower lip, shaking his head as he let out a breathy laugh. The words he had on his lips dying right there with the commotion of Peter running straight to them, Remus standing by the door making wide signs with his arms to gather Sirius’s attention.
“She 's here.” Peter breathed out, doubling over himself as he rested both hands over his knees, trying to his breathing back. James took hold of his friend's arm, leading him to the side “You ran all over the Castle, didn't you…” But James’ voice faded in the distance, as everything that surrounded Sirius once he saw you entering the Great Hall.
You took slow steps towards the party, your gaze staying on the ceiling since the first moment you crossed the big wooden doors. Even with great distance separating the two of you he could see the way your eyes shone with excitement, your smile the brightest he had ever seen on your face, he made sure to save that exact picture of you in his head. Always bright, always you.
It wasn’t until you broke out of your trance that he turned to the person walking with you, to the person whose arm you clutched to like your life depended on it. He had forgotten, you had a date. It didn’t surprise him when his eyes found the face of his brother looking at you with that smile that seemed so unknown to him, so distant. Your face remained the same, an almost childlike excitement to your features as you started to point out things, letting go of his arm to take both Regulus’ hands in yours, making small movements in the air to the rhythm of the music.
He expected his brother to shake his head, let your hands fall from the air and cross his arms, only to hear the small chuckle that left his chest, his hand motioning to you to lead the way as you jumped slightly in your place.
As you turned your body, your eyes caught sight of the older Black sibling, your features falling into softer ones while taking a firm hold of Regulus hand, a smile was drawn over your lips, one only Sirius could see as you walked an disappeared into the crowd
“What are you doing?” Remus snapped his fingers in front of Sirius, his face turning with a haze in his eyes “You were supposed to do something!” said Remus, his hands pointing wildly to the spot you stood a fraction of a second before.
Sirius nodded his head slowly, his eyes focusing on his friend “The party had just begun, Moony.” he said confidently “The night’s still young.”
*******
You led Regulus through the crowd, your feet moving to the rhythm of the music as you reached a more secluded place. It still had some students there enjoying the party but it was nothing like the main Hall where all the crowd was gathered.
“You promised me something long ago.” you said, lowering your head to meet his eyes.
“Did I?” he asked playfully, but still you could see the gears inside his head working to remember what he had promised, his silence a confirmation he had reached to nothing.
“You promised you would teach me how to dance.” you said.
His eyes opened wide, turning back to the ongoing party “You want me to show you how to dance right now?” He asked “During the party?”
“Yes!”
He took one hesitant look back at the party, the safe place where you two stood now almost making him refuse your request but one look at you it’s all it took for him to give in.
He offered his hand and you took it with a squeal, making him chuckle “It’s not even the right music, you know?”
“Does it matter?” you asked him.
A grin was plastered on his face, placing himself in front of you “It has never stopped me before.”
You smiled up at him, placing one hand over his shoulder as he took your free hand, his other hand firmly placed over your waist. “Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.” you said with a nod.
To say you learned how to dance would be a complete lie. He spent probably five minutes teaching how to dance before you both got distracted. In the end you ended up dancing to however your body felt the music, swinging your arms together in the air as he made you twirl, most of the time making you a dizzy chuckling mess. The Great Hall was left behind at some point, leaving the party and the crowd to be on its own as you and Regulus escaped to your own world. Laughter and quick footsteps echoed through the halls of Hogwarts, running as you chased each other around until you both could no longer breath properly.
Your bodies rested against the cold stone walls, letting it fall to the floor with your chest heaving at a rapid pace.
“That was fun.” Regulus said.
You chuckled, turning to him with a smile that in no way could compare to the one he had on his own face. He had his head thrown back, resting comfortably against the wall, he had his eyes closed and a smile adorning his lips. He looked peaceful.
“It was.” you whispered.
“Regulus.”
You snapped your eyes up, meeting a bored look in the boy in front of you He never stopped to acknowledge your presence, his eyes lingering on your friend as he jumped to his feet. You copied his movements, but he moved to stand in front of you, covering your body with his.
“Severus.” Regulus said back, his calm voice a contradiction to his reaction.
The boy paid you no mind, blinking slowly at Regulus “We’ve been looking for you.” he said, his voice low. “We didn’t see you tonight.”
“I was busy.” Regulus said with no further explanation. You tried to move away from behind his body, his arm stopping you before you could move.
Severus glanced at you briefly, his face remaining the same “I can see that,” he said “Still, I will advise you to sort out your priorities.”
Regulus face turned, his fists clenched at his sides “They’re sorted out, I can assure you.” he said through gritted teeth.
Again, you tried to move out from the small space Regulus had you in, looking over his shoulder to see Severus turned and walk away, not once looking back.
“What in Merlin’s name was that?” you asked in disbelief, letting out the breath you had been holding as you turned to meet Regulus’ gaze “Reg?” you asked when he stared into the distance, his eyes following the path Severus went.
“Nothing.” he said, putting on a smile.
“What was that?” you asked again, your eyes filled with worry.
“They were helping me before, nothing important.”
You turned, blinking rapidly at him “Not important?” you asked with a string of voice “He seemed ready to drag you with him.”
“He did.” he muttered, looking back “Y/N, do you think... “ he said, his words trailing off as you tilted your head, getting what he was asking.
“Oh,” you said, watching as he scrunched his eyebrows in worry “No, it’s fine. You go. It’s already late, I should go to bed anyway.” you smiled at him, a reassuring look on your face.
“Are you sure?” he asked again “I can walk you to your dorm…”
“No!” you said, your smile tightening as his frown deepened “I can go there myself. You should go before they send someone scarier.” you laughed.
He took your hand and gave it a squeeze “I’ll see you tomorrow before I leave, alright?”
You nodded, holding onto his hand as he started to walk away, his face turning back to you “Thank you for tonight, Reg.” you said, pulling his body to you as you hugged him.
His arms snaked around you, holding you close to him as he placed a soft kiss at the crown of your head “See you tomorrow.” he whispered.
Your hand stretched holding onto his until the distance made your hand fall, your eyes following him before he disappeared in the distance. You stood there for a couple of minutes, your mind racing over the last couple of minutes and the heaviness that had settled on your heart. You shook your head of all the worry, taking a deep breath before you turned back, starting your way back to the Great Hall.
You owed Sirius a dance.
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