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frogtanii · 4 years

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embarrassed ft. matsukawa issei

wc. 2.7k (???)

warnings. SMUT, not proofread lol, mutual pining (??), friends to lovers (???), cunnilingus lmao, no dom/sub dynamics, well actually dom&sub issei if you squint rlly hard hehe, kinda cute, embarrassed issei <3, also one (1) WAP reference

an. it’s 2:30 am and i have no idea why i wrote this and who for???? i got the idea from a 🦋😳🙈✨ audio and was immediately inspired idk, sorry if it’s bad i lichrally have no idea since i didn’t read it after it was done :p

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

it wasn’t like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed.

he was handsome, intelligent, and funny, not to mention he never left women wanting after a night with him.

issei was the entire package and he knew it.

beyond superficiality though, he was happy with his life. he had a great group of friends, a nice apartment all to himself and a completely normal job.

yes, being a funeral home employee wasn’t the most glamorous career a person could have but he was happy. besides, it never deterred him from getting a warm body to sleep with which was a win in his book.

all in all? his life was great!

so why did he have to go and screw it all up?

issei blames makki and the dumb flyer for the reason his life went to shit. (maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but let him have his oikawa moment.)

he was minding his own business when his best friend (recently turned enemy) burst through his apartment door with a piece of paper in his hand and a fire in his eyes.

“dude, look at this!” issei rolled his eyes, putting down his casket catalogue and turning to meet takahiro’s gaze.

“why hello to you too. remind me why i gave you a key again?”

“because you love me and because i bring shit like this to you. look!” with another long and suspiciously tooru-like sigh, issei took the crumpled paper from makki and immediately stopped in his tracks.

“makki... what the fuck is this?”

written in large pink letters and a flowery, borderline illegible font was the name, coffee and cunnilingus. upon further inspection and careful reading, it revealed itself to be a little cafe opening up about 10 minutes from issei’s apartment complex who were looking to hire “young, attractive men who are proficient at eating pussy.”

issei could feel his eyes narrow and his mouth drop open in shock as he repeated his question. “the fuck is this?”

makki shook his head excitedly, tapping to another portion of the flyer that matsukawa had not yet read. “no, no dude, just look at how much they’re paying per hour.” issei begrudgingly obliged but the minute his eyes touched the (Massive™) number, he felt a little faint.

it was a lot of money. more than the funeral home was paying, that’s for sure. with that kind of money he could move out of this suddenly dingy seeming apartment and into a nice flat in the city were he’d always wanted to live. maybe he could buy himself a nice watch or even a high-end suit to replace the one from his highschool graduation (aka the only suit he owns). with that kind of money, he could erase his student debt 3 years ahead of schedule and get his mom into a nicer place.

it was these thoughts that clouded issei’s head as he found himself standing in front of a cute looking building, matching the address on the flyer. i’ll only be working part time, he thought as he pushed the door open to reveal an equally impressing interior with curtained booths and a wide variety of coffee on the menu. i’m only doing it for extra money, he thought as he shook the owner’s hand after he finished his successful interview. no one can ever know, he thought as he dressed himself in the uniform on his first day.

thus began issei’s super secret side hustle where he ate women out for cash.

sounds worse when you say it outright but it was just working. he was good at it, the women liked him, and he was making BANK. still, there were challenges. some women refused to bathe before coming and he would have to send them to the restroom to freshen up which absolutely ruined his chances for a good tip. some women would become heavily infatuated with him, believing that they were in some sort of forbidden romance. he learned to turn them down quick and easy to avoid conflict in the workplace which furthered his space as a boss favorite. but his hardest challenge by far was meeting you.

you were one of hanamaki’s friends, having met him at one of his brief stints in retail on his search for a job. he had gotten fired but you both stayed in touch after he left, becoming really close, really fast.

issei had met you first when takahiro had invited you to the biweekly seijoh third-years movie night. at first, he had been pissed as an “outsider” had never been invited before and he was worried you’d ruin the vibe, especially since it was the first time in months that oikawa would be able to join them. makki vouched for you through and through and the other boys were okay with it so you were in. the second he met you, all his fears of awkwardness and discomfort faded away.

you were great.

you were hilarious, pretty, and could keep up with makki’s harsh jokes, tooru’s diva attitude, iwa’s tendency to hit (hard), and issei’s original disdain. by the end of the night, he had completely forgotten why he didn’t want you there in the first place.

from then on, you were a staple in their little friend group. you were added to the groupchat where you balanced memes with spouts of deep wisdom and you were ever so reliable, always there if any of them needed it.

yeah, you were great. that’s where the problems started.

issei’s feelings for you quickly went from platonic to romantic, faster than you can say godzilla. he hadn’t even recognized that he was falling for you until it was way too late. normally, he wouldn’t have a problem confessing to you but because of his newly found ...occupation, he was too nervous. how would you take it that he was basically a glorified prostitute? ok, that wasn’t exactly what he did but still! you’d probably find him disgusting and horrible and leave the friend group forever. then he’d have to deal with oikawa’s senseless whining and makki’s subtle digs, blaming him for your departure. yeah, he wasn’t going to put himself through that so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

too bad he didn’t have any control over makki’s.

you and takahiro had been on a little friend-date at mcdonald’s after you’d had a long and frustrating shift. you just wanted to vent, expressing your general hate for your job and desperate need for stress relief.

that’s when makki opened his (big, stupid) mouth and suggested that you visit a little place called coffee and cunnilingus. you nearly choked on your fries at the title before quickly pressing him for details. thankfully, he had the decency not to expose that issei worked there but he had not done a good enough job convincing you not to go there. not that it would’ve mattered. your curiosity was peaked and your libido was high so why not try out the weird cafe where you let a complete stranger stick his tongue inside you?

it was settled. you were going to go and you were going to get eaten out and you were going to like it!

or at least that is what you repeated in your head as you walked to the address on your phone before taking a deep breath and walking inside.

“hello, welcome to coffee and cunnilingus, how might i pleasure you this afterno— yn?” issei’s eyes widened as they met your equally bewildered ones, the both of you staring at each other in shock.

“matsukawa-san, is everything alright?” a large hand rested on issei’s shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts and forcing him to break (horrified) eye contact with you and move it onto his boss who was now looking down on him menacingly.

“y-yes sir, everything is fine!” he squeaked out, hating the way his voice cracked on his first syllable. his boss looked at him suspiciously but thankfully didn’t press.

“well, since nothing is wrong, take this beautiful young woman to a booth where you will assist her!” the hand resting on issei’s shoulder slowly squeezed, making him wince in pain. the pain was only an afterthought though to the larger implication of his boss’ words. he’s going to assist you. assist as in pleasure. pleasure as in eat you out.

holy shit, you were going to pass out.

apparently, issei had the same thought process as you, his face whitening like a sheet. “m-me? but sir i-“

“do your job matsukawa-san!” his boss cut him off with a forced smile. all issei could do was nod and silently lead you off to a closed booth near the back or lose his job. you stayed close behind him but remained quiet, absolutely terrified of breaking the silence and ruining the bubble you had created.

you finally reached the booth in question. issei gently opened the curtain and motioned for you to get it, to which you obliged and he followed just behind.

the moment the curtain closed, you were enveloped in an awkward silence and tense atmosphere, neither of you speaking or looking at one another for fear of one of you running out. after what felt like hours, you opened your mouth to speak, not realizing issei had thought the same thing.

“so-“

“i-“

you finally made eye contact with him and burst into the laughter, the tension quickly broken. it took a full minute or two for the both of you to calm down, the absurdity of the entire situation finally catching up with you.

“you first,” issei said, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while fixing you with an intense gaze swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place but it made butterflies bubble up in your stomach. you quickly turned your gaze to the comfortable seat beneath you, your fingers playing with the red stitching while you thought of what you had wanted to say.

“are you any good?” your hand flew up to cover your mouth as your cheeks filled with heat, the embarrassment of your words catching up to you. you hadn’t meant to say that but when you opened your mouth to apologize, you were stopped in your tracks by the lovely sound of issei’s full-bodied laughter filling the tiny booth.

you had heard it just moments earlier but without the sound of your own giggles drowning it out, you couldn’t help but think that he sounded beautiful. you basked in the sound as it slowly trailed off back into silence. now it was you doing the staring making issei look off with a red face and a heart threatening to pound out of his chest.

“y-yeah i’m pretty good. you want to try? me, i mean?” his words nearly leave you gasping, your brain working overtime to try and comprehend what he was saying to you.

“only if y-you want to? what do you want issei?” you whispered, suddenly unable to find your voice. you wanted this to be okay for him too; you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable even though you wanted him more than you could verbally express. despite the embarrassment and fear of rejection lingering under your skin, you stared at him, awaiting his answer. a tiny minuscule nod came from him and you internally shook your head. you needed to hear him.

“i need you to say it, issei.” your words, while quiet, were firm and issei felt himself hardening in his uniform slacks. he swallowed in his increasingly drying mouth before opening his mouth to respond.

“i want to eat your pussy. can i?”

shit.

your own voice was stolen by his words and all you could give him was a nod before he was on you.

issei didn’t waste any time falling to his knees, pulling your panties down, and hiking your skirt up to your stomach, revealing your glistening folds to his hungering eyes.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” is all the warning you get before he’s licking a long stripe up you from entrance to clit before he’s sucking the hard, sensitive nub into his mouth. your eyes immediately rolled back into your head, your hips instinctively bucking up into his mouth while a gasped moan of issei left your lips.

if he could bottle your moans and use them whenever he pleased, he would, the sound sending another pulse of arousal to his already hard cock. he was tempted to reach down and pull himself out of his trousers but he denied himself. this was about you; you and your wet ass pussy.

issei continued his ministrations on your clit, circling it with his tongue before pulling it into his mouth while his hand was ready to get busy. it crept up your thigh, sending shivers down your spine until it reached your sopping entrance, two of his fingers teasing the slit before delving in to the third knuckle.

the moan you let out is borderline animalistic as your body sends another wave of slick pulsing out over his hand. he groaned into your cunt at your tightness, his mind only imagining him deep within you while you squeeze him for all he’s got.

the amount of slick you produced made it easy for him to add a third finger, thrusting them in and out while also crooking them upwards in search for your special spot that would have you seeing stars. it took him a little prodding but he knew he found it when your back arched, your hand came down into his hair, and you whimpered out a string of curses.

“that’s it baby, cmon, you’re doing so well, wanna see you come apart for me,” he all but growled against your clit before delving back in with a higher intensity, his desperation for you to come winning out his desire to tease you and drag this out as long as possible.

with his incessant pressure on your g-spot and his lips suctioned around your clit, it wasn’t long before he got what he wanted.

“isseiisseiisseiissei, i’m coming, i’m coming-oh fuck!” you screamed as you clenched and gushed all over his fingers, your entire body caving in with the intensity of your orgasm. his fingers were practically forced from your spasming cunt but they quickly found a place rubbing your nub side to side as fast as possible. the overwhelming urge to pee came over you and you shook your head, trying to push his hand away.

“no, no, give it to me, i know you can,” issei groaned, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. the pleasure he was giving came to a head at his words and you felt a clear liquid escape from your tired, overstimulated cunt, your mouth opening in a silent moan before collapsing back on the seat.

the sight proved to be too much for issei as he felt his body tense, his own orgasm washing over him as he emptied himself into his boxers. he fell back onto the ground, in shock of himself coming entirely untouched. he’d never done it before but of course it was you that would bring it out of him. a smile spread across his face at the thought, his head tilting back as he laughed, catching the attention of your worn body.

“what’re y’laughing at?” you slurred, cringing a little at how fucked out you sounded but issei didn’t seem to mind, his face glowing while covered in your slick and cum.

“nothing, nothing, but uh, i have a question.” you felt your heart leap to your chest, your mind already racing with the possibilities. he’s going to say this was a mistake, that we’re just better off as friends. oh god, what if he says i stunk? or the worst pussy he’s ever had? or what if—

“want to go and get a coffee?” he asked, the smile still plastered on his face but with an uncharacteristic hint of shyness. the butterflies were back in your stomach as you shyly nodded before allowing him to help clean you up and standing, not missing how he slipped your lacy underwear deep into one of his pockets.

issei’s hand found its way into yours as he said goodbye to his coworkers and boss before leading you out of the cafe, watching you tell an animated retelling of the bullshit that occurred at your job with a warm grin on his face and pink cheeks.

it might not be like matsukawa issei to be embarrassed but if it resulted in getting you by his side? he would do it again and again.

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tin-can-iron-man · 2 years

Note

Hey have we ever seen Doom be romantic in that physical sense? Because when he got that woman pregnant I was like “When did that happen?” Did I miss an indication that it did? I know he likes to get married to the occasional entity, but that’s usually for political reasons.

the short answer of this all is just a simple “yes” but if you want to listen to me explain in explicit, pain-staking detail (and occasionally my own biased opinions) of what you could possibly refer to as “Victor Von Dooms disastrous love life” you’re welcome to hit that read more because strap in I’m about to write a goddamn essay (also credit to whoever has it as I took these images off the internet thank you for your service or else this entire mess would’ve have photos to break it up)

So, in reference specifically to the Amara thing we need to take a few steps back and possibly assume several things (unless I, too, have missed or forgotten about something, I haven’t read those Iron Man issues in a very long time despite regularly revisiting infamous for some light reading to unholy binging accompanied by certain other stories (life FF (2011) but specifically only when Victor is around and recent installments to either yell at them about why they’re not understanding my poor little meow meow as a character properly or yell at them because Victor is making sense in a way that is told narratively as wrong but actually has a point or two)

So, for some flavor context: Amara Perera is a genius biophysicist who was introduced in the 2016 Invincible Iron Man run as Tony’s next love interest/girlfriend. She meets Victor while she is dating Tony because Victor won’t stop bothering Tony as he’s chosen to be his sort of inspiration/ideal role model of sorts on his own path towards redemption after all the shit he’s pulled (because he realized during the 2015 Secret Wars event that even with everything he’s ever wanted: ultimate power (of the beyonder) and to be ruler of the (remaints) of the multiverse, even being Reed Richards (to an extent but, yeah he stole his entire family and replaced Reeds role because he had the ability to do that, are you ok Victor) wasn’t what he…truly wanted, so his desire to become a “superhero” is more about a journey to find a purpose as well as an apology for all of the horrible things he did as Doctor Doom for a role he realized he was not truly fitted for and the fact that you would reTCON THAT PART OF DOOMS ARC AND THROW HIM BACK INTO A VILLAINOUS ROLE MAKES NO GODDAMN SENSE BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO WIN, EVEN WE HE DOES, AND TAKES AWAY THE EMOTIONAL GROWTH HE JUST WENT THROUGH–)

So yeah Victor keeps randomly walking in to talk to Tony or assist Tony or just kinda check up on Tony and…yeah he was really focused on trying to be Tony’s friend at this time (if you wanna call it that, Victor thinks they’re friends, Tony is being a big ol tsundere about it). And occasionally he would do this kind of thing with Amara around, or when Amara was on dates with Tony. like, straight up crashing in and third wheeling. Noting and appreciating Amara’s general lack of fear at his presence, even talking science/shop talk with her and giving her notes/advice.

Then Tony fakes his death for a mission that goes on for too long and it’s implied and slightly shown that this is the point in time where Victor and Amara are alone together. Victor gets Amara a job at Cambridge and checks in on her from time to time because, you know, her boyfriend was just declared dead. And as far as I’m aware most of their relationship, if one could call it that, happens off panel. I kinda interpret the whole situation like a soap opera (which is how most of Tony’s relationships are like in comics) (also I’m using this next bit as an example and not exactly what I believe happened): the soap opera Guy who was with the soap opera Girl dies and the guys soap opera Frenemy leaning towards friend does stuff like, buys her flowers as condolences, pays her bills for the next for months, moves in with her because “it’s too quiet in my house now” and eventually soap opera Girl falls into soap opera Frenemies arms and they uh, “spend the night together” only for soap opera Guy to show up and go “hey I’m not dead!!!” and soap opera Girl smack him and breaks things off only to then discover she is pregnant with soap opera Frenemies baby

(also there was originally an air of mystery about whos baby it actually was, Tony’s or Victors? But everyone just kinda universally agreed it was Victors, even the comics)

So, that’s the Amara stuff sorted out. I’m very sorry if my explanation has left you more confused. Comics do that.

Now, for your question on if we’ve ever seen doom being physically romantic for a woman, the answer to that is yes! I’m sure there are other women that I am forgetting about and I’m sure there are panels out there that show that I am a dumb-stupid head, and that’s ok.

For the most part Victor's love life isn’t…exactly elaborated on and it’s mostly just that while Victor–if a writer decided to–COULD have love interests he just simply doesn’t and mostly chooses not to. (Literally, there’s an old Latverian law (re: corrupt barons handled Latveria before Victor started a coup and took over and some laws he hasn’t gotten to/kept because he decided they would be convenient for one reason or another) where the Latverian royal family has the capacity to just simply, pick a woman from the crowd and force her to “spend time alone” with them, they can’t say no, they can’t fight back, if they’re married, their husbands must let them go, they must not refuse any request made of them at this time, so Latveria is basically just a giant fucking harem to the royal family. And the one and as far as I know only time Victor has ever used this was just simply to have a private conversation with a married woman so her family could not eavesdrop. Like. He’s fucking ethical!! Thank god.)

This is, of course, not to say Victor hasn’t been interested in women, but the things he finds attractive are–most of the time–a person's boldness and the power that they possess (re: Amara, the first thing he noted about her was that he appreciated she was not afraid of him despite his reputation) and we can see that in some of the women he’s been interested in over the years, varying from a sort of–*hand gestures*–romantically charged respect he gives to Storm/Ororo Munroe even upon meeting her even for the first time, recognizing her power, grace, and again, her lack of fear of him (something he did not appreciate so much back then).

To a kind of–albeit, established as manipulating and for ulterior motives–protectiveness over Wanda when he tried to marry her to gain control over her chaos magic. (and even maintaining a calm demeanor when Wanda threatens to kill him later on, which reads as “if you were going to do that, you already would have, Wanda” but I personally interpret it as “hot”). He still (at the very least, on a surface level) treated them with respect, he treats Ororo as an equal (if not more) and he treats Wanda…a bit less favorably but that's just different writers doing different things. And in the reality Wanda created where her and Victor were married (although I have not personally read it) he seemed to treat her with affection and respect that she must have at least perceived to be how Victor would act around her if they were truly husband and wife. A perception that was based in reality even though he was attempting to emotionally manipulate her.

Even Zora Vukovic aka Victorious, Victors herald and general right hand (wo)man and most recent attempted wife (for political reasons, thank god) (didn’t end up married because uh long story short everything exploded) shows this kind of boldness and is infused with cosmic power!!!

The only person who doesn’t exactly fall under this “type” of his is, arguably (I see you shippers), is his childhood sweetheart and the closest thing Victors ever had to a genuine girlfriend/wife: Valeria Karela (ok her wiki doesn’t say she has a last name but I’m going off the names of her grandfather and mother because it’s the only name I have)

Also fun little sidenote!!: NOT, I REPEAT, NOT VALERIA RICHARDS, VICTOR WAS GIVEN THE OPPORTUNITY TO NAME REED AND SUE’S DAUGHTER AFTER ASSISTING IN HER BIRTH (so midwife doctor doom is fucking canon, jot that down) WHERE SHE AND SUE WOULD HAVE DIED IF HE HADN’T HELPED AND HE NAMED HER VALERIA AFTER THIS VALERIA BECAUSE HE LOVED HER AND THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FITTING AS HE ALREADY DECIDED IN HIS HEAD TO STEAL GODFATHER STATUS. SHE IS NOT VALERIA RICHARDS, SHE IS VALERIA RICHARDS NAMESAKE, DOOM NAMED VALERIA AFTER THE WOMAN HE LOVED BECAUSE HE ALREADY DECIDED HE (PATERNALLY) LOVED BABY VALERIA)

So, haha, time to take a few steps back again! So Victor was born to a roma caravan in Latveria to Werner Von Doom (a healer/doctor) and his wife Cynthia Von Doom (a witch). A little while after his birth Cynthia sells her soul to the demon Mephisto (one of marvels top big bads) in return for power she wished to use to overthrow the corrupt barons ruling her country and put a stop to the oppression of her people, but while Mephisto had granted her the magical power to do this, she lacked control and was killed by a latverian guard and died and got her soul sentenced to Hell. Her use of “satanic witchcraft” was then used as another reason why the Romani in Latveria should be oppressed and discriminated against. This in turn turned the Caravan against Werner, her husband, and especially Victor, her son (because what is more condemning, than being the child of an evil witch?). So while they managed to get to stay in the caravan, nobody was really…willing to be around Victor anymore besides his father. (Because he’s an outsider, because he shouldn’t be here, because he’s the witches son)

Nobody…except for Valeria Karela.

A girl close to the same age as Victor and the granddaughter of Werner's close friend and confidant, Boris Karela. (yes, the same Boris who now serves in Castle Doom and has done so faithfully ever since he was introduced. Take that as you will.)

So, Victor and Valeria grew very close at this time, and by the time they were about…I’d say…just about preteens? They both fully expected to one day get married and have children together.

Of course, this did not work out. But there’s more to it than that.

It’s not as though this was a…silly middle school romance (even though they were young), but rather things just sort of happened and snowballed in Vic and Val’s lives that eventually drove them apart for the time being (Started with Werner's death, then Victor finding Cynthia's things and starting to perform magic like his mother had) until Victor was given the option to attend State University in America on a full ride scholarship because of his genius in science, specifically engineering and robotics. Victor asked Valeria to come with him to America but she refused due to having familial obligations in Latveria. In turn, Valeria pleaded with Victor not to go to America and attend University, and they argued until she gave him the ultimatum of going to college alone in America or staying with her and getting married, like they had planned and daydreamed about since they were little kids.

And Victor chose.

And attended his college orientation.

And then Victor literally accidentally blew his face of after trying to build a machine to communicate with his mother in Hell because he decided he must save her from her eternal torture and that explosion blew up his dorm room and he got expelled and then later got to look at his brand new deformed face for the first time.

Yeah so Victor went on a pretty depressive spiral for a while just kinda living in europe off the money he made in college by selling ideas to the military (as his scholarship program was about that) and that’s when he coincidentally meets Valeria again and they start dating again and Valeria does not mind that his face is messed up and as far as I know she is the only woman that’s ever been depicted in this kind of romantic/physical relationship with Victor. And there is a…risque panel (nothing too explicit shown but uh yeah they’re absolutely going at it) in Books of Doom

(I will be choosing to abstain from that panel)

Anyway I just cranked out a 4 page essay response (that is the page number my google doc tells me that I wrote this in like a madwoman) to a tumblr ask and it’s midnight now. I literally wrote this into the next day so if you’re still here um, thanks! I very much appreciate the time it took to read this and I am so sorry this has become such a monstrosity. But also you’re welcome.

I’m going to collapse into bed now. See ya!

–Tin-Can-Iron-Man

P.S. I totally forgot to mention the time he had sex with Morgana Le Fay a lot. also possibly Loki they had a flirty type thing going for a while or something.

P.P.S. Read Books of Doom guys it’s really good

#Doctor Doom #Victor Von Doom #I'm going to start tagging asks again because I think it's a good idea if I remember so #tin-can-answers #I am....so sorry #also uh please do not get mad at me for using photos I took off the internet I promise I'm not doing anything bad #I just wanted to break up the words a little and figured some tasteful example panels would help #so uh....yeah. that's it. thanks for being here guys #also it's not only possible but likely I'll respond to a simple ask like this again #not only because Victor is so ridiculous it's hard not to write essays about him #but because it's just really fun to talk about this stuff #<3

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hex-obsession · 3 years

Text

Silver Lining - Two

word count- 2,259

content warning- language, angst, indirect s**cidal thought

____________________________________________

Crows cawing, your eyes open just enough to hazily make out the all too familiar color of your room.

“Early bird gets the worm, you know,” a familiar voice murmurs. Pushing off the wall to your right, your body slides diagonally over your bed, your head dangling off the side. Upside down, Cheryl is slumped against your door frame, arms and legs crossed. Brazen as usual, just the way you loved her. You held your own in most regards but Cheryl was always there when you least expected it and needed her most. You swear there were a halo atop that adorable shaggy blonde head of hers. And not one of those tacky event items either.

“Like I’d get anything any time of day with all the birds around here.” A tickling squeeze builds in your abdomen, branching up your neck to your cheeks which now had a telling pink glow.

“So you gonna talk to old lover boy yet or what?”

You jolt forward and whip around fast enough to make any killer miss a swing. Your response is unnecessary as she’s already smirking devilishly, aware of what she’s doing. She might have been your closest friend but that did not stop her from tormenting you, or anyone else that crossed her path. All in good fun and love, of course. It went without saying that you enjoyed it and she knew when it was, rarely, time to pack it up.

Raising her eyebrows, she leans back and throws her hands up. “I’m just saying, if you don’t, you might lose your chance. That’s all I’m saying,” quieter now.

You sighed. She was right. You weren’t the only one who took a liking to Leon. But, unlike you, Yun-Jin did not hide her feelings, from anyone for any reason, ever. Of course, everyone thought he was charismatic and most, undeniably handsome. That was common knowledge. You ran out of things to talk about in a place like this, and secrets were few and far between. There was no reason to hide here. This was your foreseeable future, together. There was no getting out, no changing things. Being open and sharing everything together made your day to day bearable. The connections you lost in your old lives left gaping holes, but together as one tightly knit, weird, fucked up family, you helped fill the voids. Some took longer than others to accept that fate, and there were some inevitable hiccups, but everyone came around eventually.

Anyone who wasn’t blind could see the attraction Yun-Jin had for the newest addition to your group. Placing her hands on him in conversation whenever she got the chance, laughing a little too hard at the things he said, biting her bottom lip and smiling at him when he talked. You’d even caught her pecking his cheek playfully here and there. He’d always smile and look away, as if it were a game. Leon always had a sultry attitude to him, a ladies' man no doubt. Subtly flirting with everyone was just commonplace for him. That was part of the reason you held back. Fearing you missed your chance and someone else had filled the role you longed to be in. Maybe it was your fear of rejection or abandonment, or not wanting to lose something this important in a world as cruel and bare this. You were subconsciously working hard to convince him you were only a friend. Which you were, definitely friends. Close even, given the circumstances. Trauma bonding does one hell of a number to the timeline of friendship. Still, you sensed zero difference in his behavior toward you versus the others. Which, admittedly, was quite the letdown. Nonetheless, you had nothing to lose by casually admitting your feelings for him. Keep it light and airy and there would be no reason for things to change on the chance he didn’t feel the same. After all, you surely weren’t the only one with a harmless little crush. That’s all it was. Right? So what if you constantly day-dream about him holding you so close he might consume you, kissing you with four times the passion the Notebook tried to capture, never leaving your side regardless of what the future held. His taste, his smell… what his cock would feel like ramming into your cervix. Your brain was one giant knot, constantly distracting you and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it. Except tell him, but keep it simple.

By your calculations, it was November 18th. You’d been keeping track, not sure if it made things better or worse. Your third anniversary in this place was not far off. Despite being a literal nightmare, it had its perks. Your need for food was no more, as well as your other bodily needs. Sickness was a quickly forgotten annoyance of the past. You stayed in this eerily perfect state. Makeup never crusty, hair never oily and always smelling of your favorite fruit. The dirt and blood you’d acquire during trials magically disappeared upon return. You had a handful of outfits to rotate but there was no real need. Another upside, there were no severe temperatures here. Jackets, shorts, sandals, snow boots if you were Nea. You were always mostly comfortable. Even on Ormond where snow blanketed the ground, those gusts of wind should have sent chills right through you, but they didn’t. It felt like living in a dream or a, simulation. Just, where you’re hunted all day and night for the rest of your existence. At least death wasn’t permanent. Sometimes you’d wish it was, just to escape.

Several months have passed since Leon and Jill were introduced to your world. You had inside jokes and more close calls than you could both count. You were a damn good team and got along smoother than melted butter. What were you waiting for? You inhaled sharply and broke your stare out the window.

“I’m gonna do it.”

To no avail, your deep breaths failed to remedy the painful pounding in your chest, or the heat radiating from your face. Nevertheless, you marched out to the campfire to seek out Yun-Jin. As selfish as you wanted to be with Leon, she was your friend, and you held that in high regard. She was easy to spot in a crowd given her loud attire, but wasn’t around the fire. Which lead to your next realization; neither was Leon. Your throat tightened, heart still pounding. You set off a little too quickly to find her, or them. First stop was Ace’s shack. Judging based on appearances, you figured he would be one of the last people she associated with. Quite the opposite, they were dear friends. Not connected at the hip per se, like her and Claudette, but they related to one another's childhoods. Trauma bonding, can't beat it. To your dismay, the shack was empty, a seed of despair planting in your stomach. Maintaining the most convincing composure you could, you continue your search. Heading left down the line of shacks, robust laughter grows closer. You’d know that laugh anywhere. Cutting through the row, David and Felix are reclined under a tree. They were one of the few monogamous couples among you. The others being Nancy and Steve, and Adam and Zarina. You understood the allure of being romantically involved with more than one person, especially given your less-than-ideal situation, but it wasn’t for you.

“Hi y/n!” Felix shouted toward you.

Not wanting to stop and chat given your current objective, you flashed a cheeky smile and waved to them. Before they could get another word out, you dipped back behind the row of houses. Nerves getting the best of you, you parted your lips to breathe through your mouth. Every breath burned your lungs, realizing now all the times you brushed off your feelings have come back to haunt you. You should never have waited this long. At this point you would be more than willing, desperate, to share Leon. Refusing to let your anxiety get the best of you, you ball your fists and dig your nails into your palms to get a grip on yourself. There was one more place they could possibly be. A sliver of premature acceptance wedged itself into your train of thought as you trudged toward your own shack. Leon’s was adjacent to yours. Feeling foolish for not checking earlier, you round the corner to the opening. As much as you wish you could close your eyes, they were pinned open with anticipation. Looking up from your feet you were shocked to see an empty room before you. Relief and confusion replace your foreboding. Too much time had already been wasted, so you return to the campfire.

“Hey, have you seen Leon or Yun-Jin anywhere?” you, as calmly as possible, ask Élodie.

“They got pulled a little bit ago babe.” She was intently focused on Jane, her concentration not broken. “Which do you like more, up or down?” her gaze still fixated on Jane.

You have to either keep the courage you finally mustered until they get back or give yourself emotional whiplash by releasing until they do. You hesitate for a moment, but to hide your disappointment you quickly retort, “Up, definitely up. Gotta distract the killer with that beautiful face you know?”

“Like they're looking at her face and not that dumptruck ass!” Élodie howls. Jane facetiously puts her fingertips to her chin and looks upward, a façade of innocence no one here would ever buy. You can't help but giggle despite your inner turmoil.

“Well hey,” you add through chuckles, “when they're back can you please send her my way?”

“Sure thing babe,” Élodie assures, finally turning to meet your gaze.

A horrible nauseating mix of dismal, relieving, lewd thoughts of Leon swirl in your mind as you wait for Yun-Jin to step into the doorway. You knew you liked him but holy shit, where did this come from? The realization slapped you in the face. Try to blame infatuation all you want, not that you did, but it was so painfully evident now you were dumbfounded.

A soft knock jerked you out of your thoughts. “Hiya y/n, what's going on?”

Her delicate eyes effortlessly comforted you from across the room.

“I...” your eyes now glued to the floor beneath your feet, a reservoir of tears barely being held back, “I need to know how you feel about Leon.” Your nerves went haywire just uttering his name to her. An icy splash of chills surged from your head to your feet as your chest panged with dread.

“Well of course I like him,” her brow furrowed ever so slightly.

All that could escape your mouth was, “Oh.” Emptiness, despair replacing the jealous unease you felt before. Tears streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, feelings that danced around menacingly finally coming to a head.

At the sight of your distress, she rushed to sit next to you. “Honey, what’s going on?” her voice barely above a whisper.

You were ashamed for breaking down in front of her, afraid of guilting her for something that was not her fault, and now terrified Leon might follow her here, only to find you undone over him. You jerk your head up to face her and blurt out, “Jinny I think I love him,” face sopping wet with untouched tears.

She raises her eyebrows and smiles at you. “Honey I have fun toying with him all in good nature but there’s no connection there.” Your heart thuds against your ribcage. “Sure, I’ll admit he’s attractive, who wouldn’t, but I have nowhere near the same feelings for him that you evidently do.” She uses both hands to cup your face and pushes as much wetness as she can aside with her thumbs. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? Not only to me but to him!” Despite being similar in age, she feels like a mother to you. Caring for a child, your own or not, will do that to you. That’s not a trait you lose over time.

“I’m so afraid,” you softly whimper, “of what he would say, what you would say.” You're picking at your cuticles, a habit you acquired during puberty as an outlet for your overwhelming feelings.

She wraps her arms around you, carefully as to not tarnish her jacket with tears, which would definitely stain the material. “I was just having a little fun, and from what I’ve gathered, he was more so allowing it than participating. You know I love you all to death but I’m not looking for anything like that, definitely not here.” She gives you a squeeze, and suddenly you can breathe again, the air around you no longer dense and difficult to swallow. “Honey, go get him.”

“Oh Jesus, let me fix myself a little first at least,” the sudden relief causing you to laugh involuntarily.

You were grateful disease and ailments didn’t exist outside of the trials, if they had you're sure you would've had an aneurysm from the stress you went through in a matter of an hour. Yun-Jin left you to your thoughts, which were now solely you and Leon together, doing anything and everything you could think of. The rest of the day you contemplated telling him, more so, how to. Thankfully you didn’t have any trials together, you were far too disorganized for that right now. “Tomorrow,” you promise yourself. Nothing like a clear head and a night’s rest to help you be your most collected, confident self.

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#leon x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #dbd smut #dbd fanfic #dbd fluff

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smutandfluffohmy · 4 years

Text

His Sweater #3

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!reader A/N: I shared my story on TikTok and thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🥺 It really means the world to me 💕 I was going to cut this up to two different parts because its so longggg but I thought I should post it as one since it was supposed to be posted over the weekend.

Read it from the beginning Part 1 Here

Looking for part 2? Look no further

I had snow in my shoe, a hexed Gryffindor robe and George Weasleys sweater if all but the snow I would count this as a successful day. Walking to the Slytherin common room felt ages away and by far something I wasn’t looking forward to.

“Draco can you please stop crying.” I huffed looking around the common room at a bunch of Slytherins angrily pointing at their hexed robes they haven’t bothered to change back, I suppose it fueled their anger and made them forget their terrible Quiddith match or maybe they were just enjoying mocking Gryffindor students.

“I’m not crying I’m just angry.You should’ve seen Potters smug face wh-” Draco was yelling and probably shaking a finger at me just like my nan, but today has been far too long for me to stick around for yet another of his Potter rants.

Changing out of my unforgiving cold clothes I put on blue pajamas. Now these were sneaking around the castle at 3am appropriate, not that I intended to get up that early again but it was nice feeling that this time I had at least prepared. Georges sweater sat on the edge of my bed, it looked so lonely sitting there, the room wasn’t cold but I think I lied to myself that it was just enough to justify wearing his sweater to bed. I smelt like George Weasley, it smells exactly like the amorentia I brewed earlier today. I wonder what George smells? And if I could buy a perfume that smells like that, perhaps I could trick him into liking me that way.

But those are horrible thoughts to be having of a day-old friend.

My morning was uneventful and I was grateful for the much needed peace and quiet from a hectic year. The library was as quiet as always, books silently whizzing over my head rearranging themselves with a silent thump here and there.

Fred sat down loudly on the chair next to me, the box in his hand clanging loudly against the wooden desk making me jump. “That sweater really brings out your eyes. Where’d you get it?” Fred laughed bumping his shoulder to mine making me nudge George’s shoulder.

My face went red at the sudden contact as if I wasn't wearing his sweater. “Piss off Fred.” Fred Weasley didn’t know how to whisper nor how to act around people he just met these two things I knew for sure.

“So we wanted to run this idea by you” George said reaching over me to get the box Fred had placed on the table.

Fred leaned on the table leaning against his arms to look over at his brother. “George beings a boring bellend. Talk some sense into him will ya.” George leaned over just like Fred, the 8 chair table seemed too small and it turns out Fred isn't the only that had issues with personal space.

Fred proceeded to tell me about the plan and George swore that Fred and Fred alone thought this all up. Which Fred answered that George was a fool that was loosing his sense of humor due to his old age. Ten minutes, 3 head flicking fights and one terrible plan later had me wondering how they had gotten as far as they did without seriously injuring someone.

I was afraid going against them would mean the end of our friendship but they want to put bertlys barfs and boils on the dinners feast but I for one did not want to wash off a third years barf from my robes.

I breathed in looking over at George to see if he was just as excited as Fred was, brown eyes met mine and for a flash I forgot what I was looking for. “That’s literally poisoning people.” I told Fred who's face fell at my shocking answer but George beamed from behind me, reaching over and draped his arm over me smiling at his brother.

Fred looked from George to me and then around the library looking around for someone that would agree to making an entire school sick to their stomach was anything but a horrible ideas. Unlucky for us he found it in the form of a ghost hiding frogs behind a set of books “Peeves what do you think?” Fred called out waving him over like an old friend.

Peeves stopped what he was doing walking over to us.His hat framing the sides of his face, his shoes gave off a slight jingle with every steep and his face lighting up at seeing us “I think it’s brilliant! While you’re at it I suggest putting some on the old professors food. Make it a party!” He said stepping on top of the table kicking some of the papers I was working on around, some of the scrolls rolling across the wooden floor.

Fred clapped his hands on the table smiling up at Peeves “Finally someone that understands!” and with that Peeves stepped off the table further kicking my potions assignment further around the library surely to be tossed or lost forever.

Sighing I looked over at Fred who's face never wavered “Can’t just have it change peoples hair color? You know not unknowingly make them violently ill.” I said looking back at George for some support something he was already giving me with a loopy smile as if he just drank 4 pints of Firewhisky.

Scrunching my eyebrows at him he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. Nodding his head making his hair move in all sort of directions, I wonder if it was as soft as it looked. “I kinda don’t want to see boils popping on the French toast.” George said shrugging his shoulders at his brother, I was still blissfully over aware that his arm was slung over my shoulders

Throwing his head back slumping down on his chair with an overly dramatic sigh he closed his eyes “Fine fine we’ll think it over.” Fred said waving us away, to where he wanted us to disappear I don’t know and frankly I didn't care enough to ask.

As it turned out there was no prank that year. The laughter we had anticipated was pushed to the side with George and Fred gathering money for the new joke shop they talked so fondly about. The laughter was later completely forgotten at the news of Cediric Diggorys untimely passing.Our secret joke meetings got replaced with hospital wing visits looking after Harry and Ron who had picked fights with what seemed like all of Hogwarts. Hermione Granger was always there with us and sometimes their other friends stopped by with plants or books or snacks they thought they might enjoy during their stay.

We didn't know what was worse you-know-whos reappearance or the fact that people thought Harry killed Cedric himself for a stupid trophy in a stupid game that Dumbledore wasn’t bright enough to not let a 15 year old Harry participate in. The year ended and while I was sad to not see George nor Fred for a while, I was glad we no longer had to pull apart fights and mend bruises.

The summer consisted of writing letters to Fred and George, well mostly George. It was not just because I liked him but also because Fred had awful hand writing, that at times it made me question if I even knew how to read at all. I occasionally asked them how Ron was doing, if Harry was doing any better and if Hermione still looked at Ron fondly. I still wore Georges sweater around the house that I was not permitted to leave from and more often than not I got teased on my crush on the Weasley boy from my mother, father, brother and sister-in-law who seemed to have no other entertainment besides teasing me.

The days were long and our boredom filled the house. I was more than glad when the school year began once again. Sitting in the train cart with Draco and his friends who my family asked me to keep a close eye on as they feared they might stray somewhere horrible. I didn't have the heart to tell them I suspected they already had, so I was stuck with Draco and his never ending Harry Potter rant.

“You know Draco I think the only person that talks about Harry as much as you do is Ginny.” I said, which caused him to turn an awful shade of red. The remainder of the trip was left in silence which I was thankful for. Stepping into the grand hall I looked around for Fred and George who to no-ones surprised were whispering between the two of them.

Pushing past other students I was finally in front of the boys I spent all summer writing to. They seemed to have gotten taller and their hair had gotten shorter. “Fred! George I missed you!”I said grabbing them down into a hug which they returned just as quickly as they broke it off.

“Sorry gotta run.” Fred said smiling down at me ruffling my hair. Embarrassed I tried to flatten it down in an effort for it to regain it’s original place.

“Places to be.” George said following his brother, I reached over yanking him back. Perhaps they had things to do, what things could be done in the first day back I don’t know but I was hurt they were leaving me behind without as much as a hello tossed my way.

“Wait your sweater!” Was all I could say as I pushed his neatly folded sweater that said ‘I thought about the way the sleeves are folded because I like you but I didn’t think enough about it for you to worry’ towards him. Hesitantly he reached over placing his hand on top and bottom of the sweater, his fingers grazing mine, being awfully gentle like it could fall apart right then in there in the great hall.

He smiled at him making my heart jump “Oh thanks I was looking for it all break.” he said rather confidently for a lie, I wrote him every week asking if I should send it over but every week it seemed to be too hot or too rainy or too blue out for a sweater to be delivered via owl. “Here can you hold this for a bit.Thanks you’re a life saver.” He said tugging off the sweater he already had on and tugging it over my head. I was left with frizzy hair, alone and with George Weasleys sweater once again.

The year was going awful and I wondered if it was all just one big nightmare caused by a faulty potion in Professor Snape's class. Unfortunately it was not and we were in fact left with a highly dressed up and highly pink toad of a woman being our professor.

“Eyes up front children. There will be no speaking out of turn in my classroom.” Professor Umbridge said as she continued on with her lesson in the defense against the dark arts, a field that while highly skilled she refused to prove it. A sentiment that had the gracious opportunity to fill my ear when I was helping Professor Snape grade papers earlier that day.

The days seemed somehow longer than they did over the summer, perhaps it was the ridiculous amount of reading or perhaps it was because Fred and George had agreed amongst themselves that I no longer existed.

A head of red hair passed by and at that moment I swore it was my favorite color “Ron!” I called out running to catch up with him, he tensed up his shoulders before turning to look at who had called me.

“Bloody hell woman you almost killed me.” He said clutching his robes just over the place his heart was, well at least would be if it was not in fact on the other side. Perhaps I was a bit too thrilled to had finally made at least one of the Weasley stay long enough to speak to me.

“Oh hello Hermione I haven't seen you in a while!” That was in fact a lie I haven't seen her at all but it seemed like a polite thing to say at the time “Ron If you see your brothers ca-”

“Y/n why don’t you just try acquainting yourself with decent people? Not of the likes of Weasleys and mudbloods.” Draco said from behind me, Ron turned red much like he did when he was about to fight and Hermione scrunched her nose balling her fist as if she was about to take a swing and Draco.

I felt awfully silly picking a fight with a boy that I passed charms notes to earlier that day.But I could not help but feel the dread that washed over Hermione Granger when he called her a mudblood, a girl who's potions paper I gave a perfect mark to minutes earlier. “Oh like who? You? Push over little daddies boy?” I said standing tall looking at him.The way he said Weasley filled me with more anger than the way he called Hermione Granger a mudblood a sentiment I felt awful for feeling.

Dracos face twisted in an awful expression that made me wish I drank whatever liquid courage they fed Gryffindors. “Watch who you’re talking to!”

“No you watch it Draco.”I said taking a stride closer towards him, our shoes nearly touching and my legs slightly shaking. “Does your mum approve of the things you do?” I said to him only loud enough for him to hear it.

His face dropped before getting a scowl once more “Don’t talk about my mother.” he said with a sneer.

“Don’t give me a reason to.Now get out of here before I make you regret it.” I warned, an empty threat, as empty as they come but Draco did not know enough about me to call my bluff. With a sneer and a swish of a cape he walked away and I was glad I could finally wipe the sweat off my palms on my robe.

The shoes stepping towards me made me tense as I suddenly became aware that I had in fact almost fought a child in front of two other children. A gentle hand was placed on my stiff shoulder instantly making them drop.“Are you alright?” Hermione asked which a nod was all I could answer her with.

I didn’t answer her, afraid my voice would shake and give Draco the satisfaction he got done over on me “Holy shit I feel like I’m going to throw up.” I said once he was out of sight, I joked with being placed in Gryffindor before but for the first time I realized something the sorting hat knew all along. I was in fact empty of courage.

“That was amazing I’ve never seen someone stand up to that git Malfoy like that.” Ron mused smiling as he threw a finger at Dracos back, his smile soften when he saw the awful color mine was. “A-and I’ll make sure to tell George and Fred to stop being such idiots.”

The rest of the day passed without much anything of note, except every slam and quick movement filled me with dread thinking that Malfoy came back for another squabbling match. When the two chairs besides me got pulled out I was worried I was in for a beating and started wondering were a bunch of children would take the piss out of me. Instead George and Fred sat besides me, the rest of the study table giving them odd looks as they all concluded the Weasleys and I were no longer in speaking terms.

“You’re talking to me now?” I said turning back to my herebology book that was rather bland and focused on an smear on the page to fain interest in.

George leaned over placing his head down on the table in an effort to get me to pay attention, but all he did was look like a git. A git that made my heart swell but most importantly a git over anything. “Look we’re sorry a lot of things have been happening and well we’re just part of something.” He said placing his hand over the pages of the book.

“Top secret something.” Fred said leaning into me.

“Dumbledores army? I’ve heard” I whispered to them in an actual proper whisper something they had no knowledge in.

“Ye- how’d you know?” George said closing the textbook infant of me, looking from me to his brother to the other people in the table that had absolutely no interest into what they could be planning now.

I shrugged “Freds shit at whispering.”

“Perfect then you're caught up on everything. So we made this extendable ear and we wanted to run it by you.” Fred said digging out a torn up ear from his pocket and acting like I didn't just say that I knew about a top secret after school club.

“Hold up I never said I forgave you twats”

“You want me to get on my knees? I’ll get on my knees.”

“No George that-” I started to say shaking my head.

“Please come back to us ,our sad little hearts have a y/n shaped holes.” George said getting on his knees, in front of me with people looking at us as if we lit a garbage on fire.

My face turned red as I tried to drag him up to his feet to no avail “Get up.” I said between tugs as Fred laughed on and I can’t tell if that made it better or worse.

“I’m on my knees begging for you to take me back.” George said a bit more loudly with every word, in any other context I would be flattered over the moon in fact. But the snickers and Snape walking towards us made me reevaluate the flattery and George Weasley as a whole.

“Fine I forgive you now get up people are staring.” I said and with that George got up, not because he was embarrassed or because Snape came with a text book up in arms to hit us over the head with but because he just wanted to hear that I forgave him.

Everything seemed to be looking up, there was no sign of you-know-who, Ginny punched the Ravenclaws that were giving Luna Lovegood a hard time in the face, there had been less rain than expected and George, Fred and I were now friends once more. Perhaps all was not good Umbridge was still there in her twisted demented Elle Woods impersonation and Filch could not stop being tragically in love with Umbridge, at times I wonder if I was the Filch in George and I’s situation.

The D.A.D.A class came to an end, a time I thought had forgotten about us. I was packing up my bags, grabbing the text books a manicured handed stopped me.

“Can you come with me to my office?” Umbridge said in more of a demand than a request, nodding my head I followed her to her office. Perhaps I expected a lair or to see Oswald Mosley and Jack the ripper having a cup of tea over the fire but all I got was what looked like the inside of my nan’s house.

“Lovely room. I have a cat myself.” I said, a shiver going down my spine as at least a hundred cats meowed and purred down on me from their strategically placed spots. I loved my cat but I wondered if I could ever love this as much as this, perhaps it was not love at all.

Clapping her hands together she smiled at me “I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you” Umbridge said with a tight smile and while she stood in all her glory in bright pink I don't think it was meant as a compliment. “I called you here because I’ve heard from some of your housemates you’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd with those Weasel bo-”

“Weasley.” I said too confidently for someone that was sitting on a chair that had a picture of a kitten on it.

“I beg your pardon” She stopped smiling her tight lipped smile.

“It’s Weasley not weasel ma’am.” I suspected that she knew that but wasn’t particularly interested in it. She gave out a laugh that sounded like it had been squeezed out of her which by the look in her face I suspect it had.

“Oh did I say that? A slip of the tongue I suppose. As I was saying we’re all worried about you my dear, I suspect doing a few lines will help us clear this up.” She said tapping the piece of parchment paper that sat alone in the desk. “Write “I must not stray’ to help you remember where you truly belong.” A bit on the nose and tacky but I wasn't the one that drank tea out of cups laced with cat fur ,perhaps it had all gone to her head or maybe all adults were this pretentious.

“I’m afraid I didn't bring my quill.” I said over the sea of meows, when I said this she smiled a genuine smile this time.

“No need to worry I have it all set up for you.” She said placing a quill in front of me ever so delicately.

“Thank you Ma’am. How many lines am I to write?”

“I suspect till you feel it sink in dear.” She said once agains laughing, her hands place neatly and delicately in front of her. She smiled with teeth that was some how more intimidating than her tight lipped smile. I did not know how to tell her she had pink lipstick on her teeth.Picking up the quill I noticed there was no ink and I silently saluted the Wizarding world for discovering the amazing muggle creation that are pens.

I should’ve known that these old gits didn’t update to pens, I should’ve known when she smiled at me, I should’ve known when she stood besides me watching me write lines. A lot of should’ves weren't going to erase the burning wound that was not on my arm for an undisclosed amount of time.

‘I must not stray’ I couldn’t see it but I could feel it burn against the sweater, the robes, the air itself seemed to be conspiring on making the cut ache. Having my arm at a certain angle made it

“I brought you a hot chocolate.” George said appearing out of no where, it was almost comical and a bit concerning how no matter where I was George and Fred could always find me.

“What for?” Looking down at the cup in his hands I wondered besides hot chocolate what else would be in it.

George smiled “What I can't be a good friend? Bring you a hot drink on a cold night like this?” He said scooting a bit closer to me, I was suddenly overly aware of where my arm was placed.

Fred sat down besides me with a blue box on his lap “And we wanted to see if you could try some of our new skydiving snacks boxes.”

“And what if I die?”

“Well then we’ll miss you terribly.” Fred said placing a sad hand on my shoulder.

“I won’t let you die.Now open up.” George smiled beckoning me to open up which I did, if I were to trust anyone to hand fed me it would be against my better judgment George Weasley. His face dropped a bit and the gag snack never reached my mouth “What’s wrong with your arm?”

My face drained of color as I looked at him “Nothing. I thought you wanted me to try your parachute snacks.”

“Skydiving. Come on we’re your best mates show us.” Fred said, in a tone that was unlike his own not a hint of sarcasm and only of pure worry. A tone I’ve only heard after a particularly nasty fall Ron had while playing quidditch.

They made a fuss. Well it was mostly George that seemed a bit unhinged by the scar and Fred shifted between asking me if it hurt and telling George to calm down. It took hours, countless ‘I’m alright’s’ and a few ‘she can’t get to me that easily’s’ to calm George down enough to even begin to talk about what they had also came looking for me for.

“So here’s the plan.” Fred started, while George began wrapping my arm up with bandages he carried for this occasion however I doubted he thought he would be bandaging me up. Fred continued talking between George’s ‘are you okay?’ and ‘Are you sure it doesn't hurt?’. Even when I was all bandaged up George still held on to my arm.

“Hmmm.” I hummed once Fred finished telling me the plan.

He knew well enough to trust me with the pranks but something about me Fred thought funny to test me “Hmm?” he imitated me.

“Can you make something eat her?” I said waving my hand over the propped notebook he had in his hands.

“Like a troll?” Fred thought about it but not before looking at me with equal parts respect and as if I had completely off the rails. Nodding “Yea but made of fireworks?” I said. ‘Better make it a real one’ George murmured besides me, not only did he have a pout forming, playing around with my fingers but I was also surprised to know that at least one of them knew how to whisper.

Scratching his head Fred looked over the notebook, I wondered if they had a section dedicated to this hell I wonder if anyone but Fred could decipher the utter chicken scratch he had on there. “Blimey I know we’re brilliant but give us some room to breathe” breathing out some air Fred skimmed through the notes “What about a dragon? I reckon we can do a dragon.” Fred spoke more to himself, I doubt he meant for us to answer and I didn't even had the knowledge to answer it.

“Wait you have to take me with you guys.” I said a bit too forceful, a bit too instant and a bit too excited.

“Don’t be ridiculous you're a bloody good witch, you belong here.” George countered, startling me a he broke his silent grieving, perhaps he was afraid that the plan would back fire and they would be in for a punishment worse than writing lines.

“Screw that let’s go you can sweep around the shop.” Fred laughed ignoring his brother glares that I could feel burning the side of my face.

I wasn’t too fond of agreeing with Fred but having one of them on board was better than none “I’ll invest in your shop. I heard my parents talk about a spot in Diagon Alley, I think we can get a good price” I talked far too quickly and far too excitedly, perhaps to get ahead of them backing up on their half promise.

“An investor? You’re still going to have to clean around the shop, in a maids outfit I reckon you know for ambiance.” Fred laughed poking George shoulder when he mentioned the maids outfit, as much as I would do to make George happy I don't think I could go as far as dressing up as a maid in what I suspect is anything but a propers maid uniform.

George shook his head “We can’t take her with us Fred she can't just drop out of school l-” He said and while they argued all the time this was the first time George had been serious about it, and I finally understood the angry George he told me he said he was.

“Bite me George I’m coming with you. I wasn’t even supposed to attend this year.” I said my best trying to defuse the situation.

“Yea bite her George she’s coming with us. Wait you weren’t supposed to attend this year? What couldn't resist us?” Fred smiled flexing his arms and running his hand through his hair, an act that I’m sure nobody but himself thought of as sexy.

“My parents heard you-know-who was coming back and insisted I go somewhere else but I know Gryffindors and especially you two gits are just filled with courage and being the biggest sniffling idiots. I just had to make sure you stayed alive long enough for-”

“For?” George said interrupting me, as if the next word out of my mouth was not going to be that very explanation.

“For me to see you two again.” I said playfully bumping their shoulders, careful to mind my arm.

“Yack you’re such a sap.Come on we got things to plan” Fred said taking out parchment paper to make adjustments for their plans, George stared at me as if I had something particularly interesting on my face and for a moment I wondered if I did.

Packing up the last of the fireworks I checked and double checked we in fact were carrying hundreds of working fireworks.Snaps and crackles sounded through the hallways as Fred,George and I dropped and tossed fireworks. I held on the George because I unlike them didn't know how to ride a broom and being far too short on time to be thought how to do so.

Fire works went off below us, crashing into the room were O.W.L.S were being taken confused students and an equally confused Umbridge looked up at disbelief at us. Fireworks twisted and turned and exploded everywhere.

George and Fred highfived each other on passing as the cheers below us began getting drowned out by the deafening noise. I could hardly contain my excitement as a series of fireworks went off, shifting closer to George I looked over his shoulder waiting for the big reveal.A dragon of a hundred glowing fireworks went off as it snapped at Umbridge who was yelling trying to outrun it.

Umbridge who as I suspect could be spotted from miles away in her pink dress and pink shoes covered in black powder waved and shook her fist at us, grabbing up at the air in efforts to drag us back down.

“Give her hell from us Peeves!” The twins called out and for a moment I could’ve sworn I saw him give them a bow.

Turning my head to look at Peeves for what I suspect to be the last time, I wanted to wave goodbye to him. But I was far too off the ground and far too scared to wave instead I hopped he knew that I would despite him dropping a slug in my drink would in fact miss him very very much.

Hogwarts quickly became smaller and smaller. I see why they were considered great at quidditch I felt like I was flying through time at the probably criminal speed they were going.

“What’s the plan now Weasley?” I said looking up at him. He looked as if his face was being pulled back and I found it ridiculous that I was still in fact smitten by it.

He shrugged his shoulders yelling over the loud wind “Reckon we got to get married now don’t think you’ll get into another school.”

Nodding my head I laughed, I wasn’t sure as to what exactly was the joke or if I had laughed before the punchline but nevertheless I laughed. “I guess you’re right. You think Fred would marry me?”

“Ye- What no.Not Fred he’s a git. You should marry me” George smiled and said as if where the sanest and most normal thing anyone could say to their friend. My stunned silence made his confident smile flatten a tad as he stumbled trying to back track or perhaps he was thinking of just pushing me off the broom at this rate. “You know for business purposes we already came up with the name and I’d feel awful not including you.” He reasoned with me, if this was his idea of reasonable I was extremely worried about what he thought as unreasonable.

“Merlin Weasley at least take me on a date before you try marrying me.” My words came out shaky and I could feel my heart pounding, I wonder if George could feel it pounding against his back.

“I can do that.” He said turning to briefly face me, perhaps I’ve died and gone to heaven or perhaps I have misunderstood this situation.

“Finally for fucks sake.” Fred scoffed from above us, I knew I was in fact very much alive because Fred would not be in my idea of heaven humming disco songs as he rode his broom.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #Fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader

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sanktnikolais · 3 years

Text

Invisible String

The three major events of Zoya's life that Nikolai has had glimpses of, and he feels her emotions all the way to his side of the invisible string connecting them.

or that zoyalai psychic/emotional connection au

@grishaverseonline mission 12: favourite character - nikolai lantsov

A/N: guess who’s posting a new content after months of hiding? HAHAHA. This was supposed to be posted yesterday for my birthday but I wasn’t able to finish early. So have this late birthday treat from me. ;-;

Warning tho, contains some RoW spoilers, and contains the alternate version (Am’s version LMAO) of the garden scene.

Word count: 5174

They said that it would take a lot for one to get accustomed to the pain that came with losses.

Nikolai never realized he had lost so much until he had everything within his reach.

He didn’t know it was already a loss when his mother had decided to be unfaithful to the King of Ravka and bore an illegitimate child with a Fjerdan merchant. He didn’t know it was already a loss when he had met a certain brown-haired boy in one of his private classes, not knowing that he would be the reason why that same boy would be drafted early for the war that would take his life later on. He didn’t know it was already a loss when he still tried to seek the approval of the older brother that never wanted him, and that would end up in him developing a cunning personality to gain acceptance from everyone around him. He didn’t know it was already a loss when he dropped the guillotine that would imply that his father was guilty of such a heinous crime, exiling both him and his queen to a faraway place, never to set foot on the country they had sworn to protect yet failed in every possible way.

It only came to him, when he was finally sitting on the throne and overseeing a broken country, that he hadn’t really gained anything along the way. Only nightmares that weighed on his shoulders and kept him awake at night, and the black scars that were just as dark as the blood of every life lost in the war coating his hands.

And pain.

Both the ones he had known and acknowledged, and the sudden, unexplainable bursts of physical or emotional pain that came to him in the most random times throughout his life.

Nikolai didn’t know when it started. Being a young royalty that grew up doing everything in his own cunning way had taught him to mask the pain into something less hurting. Whether it was telling horrible jokes or making something more complicated by talking too much—it was his way to beat around the bush and away from the impending truth, thinking that if he ignored it long enough, he would forget it.

It worked, somehow, but it only pent up the emotions in his heart that were bound to explode later on.

Even though that fact was clear to him, it still wasn't enough to justify his first, sudden outburst when he was twelve.

It was quite a normal day—he had another hour with the extra reading on chemistry and Kaelish history he had requested from his tutors, and he was stuck in the library until the late hours of the afternoon. But the truth behind it, however, was to have time to sneak in and out of the palace to visit Dominik and his family in the countryside.

The whole day of learning to braid Dominik's sisters' hair had ended happily, with Nikolai able to finish tying all of them, albeit resulting in tangles that would need more attention to fix later.

You'll get used to it, Dominik had mused with a light laugh. I didn't learn this in just one day.

Nikolai thought of them on his way home, seeing how their smiles seemed to reach their eyes when they laughed around each other, something he never saw or felt in the Grand Palace. An unwanted pricking stung his eyes, and he immediately reached up to wipe the tears away. It was foolish to be longing for something insignificant when he already had everything he needed. He could just ask anything from his servants and tutors, and they would appease his request without question. So why was he suddenly—

His throat clogged up with muffled sobs, the sickening feeling of both anger and sadness constricting his heart as if there was a fist was trying to crush it. The next thing he knew, he was collapsing on the palace gardens, and the tears were endless.

The wind picked up around him, followed by the sound of thunder. But they fell deaf in his ears as the wails tore from his throat.

Then it happened. The dreadful images of a ruined church and a horrified expression from the face of an old man flashed before his eyes, along with the searing feeling of anger directed to him.

But then the images faded as fast as they had come, and there was the sudden hollow feeling in his chest.

Palace guards found him in the same spot a few hours later, curled into a fetal position as if to shield his body from harm. The King had demanded he explain what had happened, and knowing their judgment to anything Nikolai had ever done and said made him lie. He told them he had hurt himself when he tripped and fell in the gardens, and they easily believed it as it was his own foolishness. There was no way they would believe him even if he tried to tell the truth.

He had been sent to a Healer right after that to check for other injuries, even when he knew to himself there wasn't any.

Except for the sudden hollowness in his heart that could never be filled.

***

The next one didn't happen until three years later, when Nikolai was fifteen.

He would never know what had given him away, but years of sneaking back and forth in the palace made him careless, and it was only a matter of time before Vasily, his ever cruel brother, knew about it.

"You're just turning sixteen," Vasily said with a sneer. "But you're already tumbling peasant girls. You're no better than father."

Fear gripped at his mind almost instantly when he realized that this mistake would befall on Dominik. Nikolai knew too well how commoners who had done something wrong would be punished by being barred from the palace in disgrace, sending them back to their families with nothing else but their clothes and themselves.

Nikolai had begged Vasily to hold his tongue, to keep a secret for him. But if there was one thing he knew about his older brother, it was that Vasily never cared about him.

So why would Vasily care about some boy with no name?

"Do you understand what you have done?" Nikolai asked furiously the next morning when he had cornered Vasily in the lapis drawing room.

Vasily merely shrugged. “Your friend won’t get to study with his betters, and you won’t get to keep rambling in the fields like a commoner. I’ve done you both a favor.”

“His family will lose their stipend. They may not be able to feed themselves without it.” His rage was boiling into something much worse, and he could feel it coursing through his veins. But he still held back. It was his weakness, he realized, that he didn’t have the heart to lash out his anger on someone close to him, no matter how cruel they had treated him. “Dominik won’t be exempt from the draft next year.”

“Good. The crown needs soldiers,” said Vasily. Then he scoffed, giving Nikolai a once-over. “Maybe he’ll learn his place.”

Nikolai had expected his anger to explode, all the pent-up emotions to finally be let go. But he felt disappointed instead, as if he had lost something important. It took him a second to realize that he had lost his respect and admiration for his older brother.

For years, he thought that Vasily was better than their father. Whereas their father sat slouched on the throne and shoulders hunched when he stood, Vasily was the exact opposite of him. He always stood tall, chin held up high. He was the spitting image of what Nikolai had imagined a royal should be.

But Nikolai had never been ashamed to admit that he was so wrong.

"You should be ashamed," said Nikolai quietly.

But Vasily only jabbed a finger to Nikolai’s chest. “You do not tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, Sobachka," he snarled, his voice laced with poison, the same one that Nikolai almost drank when Vasily had mixed a droplet of it into Nikolai's cup. "I will be a king, and you will always be Nikolai Nothing.”

Then it happened again, the strange images appearing before his eyes. Where Nikolai expected it to be the same ones he saw four years ago, they were different this time.

The drawing room morphed into a rough terrain full of snow, and an enormous white tiger had replaced the spot where his brother was in front of him, its teeth bared and hind legs laid back to pounce.

It was then he felt the sudden feeling to protect himself, his survival instincts kicking in, and he did just that. The images faded, his surroundings fading back to the drawing room.

With a strength that came from nights spent roughhousing with peasants and workers alike in some shady fight club in Os Alta's outskirts, Nikolai snatched his brother's finger that was on his chest and twisted hard.

Vasily fell to the ground with a yelp. He looked impossibly small. A satisfying feeling settled itself in Nikolai's chest. It was most likely the worst he had seen his brother, and if Nikolai had only known that his older brother was nothing more than a facade to hide such a vile and weak face underneath, he wouldn't have wasted his whole life trying to be like Vasily.

"A king never kneels, brother," Nikolai hissed before he left his brother's prone form on the ground.

He was sure that Vasily wouldn't let him forget what he had done to him.

But the next time his brother would try to come for him, Nikolai would be ready.

***

The worst one happened almost five years later.

He was finally fulfilling his dream as a privateer in the seas, and the name Sturmhond was born right in the middle of the True Sea, never to be forgotten by all sailors and pirates as the years would go on.

It was supposed to be a diplomatic meeting with the Fjerdan traders that came from Djerholm. They were set to talk about the territories, with Fjerda claiming that they didn’t allow enemy ships to sail freely at the northern True Sea without permits unless they wanted their ships obliterated by Fjerda. Nikolai had wanted to laugh when he saw the ship; it was too enormous and too sturdy-looking to be of trading purposes only. He assumed that it had to be a warship since its captain and crew were too confident to stop the Volkvolny. No one ever dared to go against the Volkvolny —the black sails that had guided them for years were already a familiar sight to all the sailors and pirates. Though it was smaller than any warships in the seas, it could still go on par with ships twice as big as it, and it had sunk numerous vessels and gotten away unscathed.

These Fjerdan ‘traders’ should have known better than to get in the Volkvolny’s way.

True enough, when Nikolai had stepped into the enemy ship to negotiate the terms, he immediately noticed the heavy artillery carelessly covered by a rag on the main deck. They had even attempted to blend it in among the cargo crates scattered on the floor, but the canons were obvious underneath the thin material covering them. He let out a breath. He suddenly wasn’t sure if going here with only his two Shu mercenary turned personal guards was ideal. At least twenty rough-looking men were surrounding them, and their captain, Captain Hjar, was only a bit shorter than Tolya, and yet he still looked impossibly tall than all of them. His hair had been cropped close to his skin, exposing the lined scar that ran from his temple to the spot behind his ear.

Tamar had voiced out her concerns then, telling him that something was not right, and Nikolai acknowledged it greatly. The Shu mercenary’s gut instincts already saved their lives countless times before, and he wasn’t going to ignore that. But he knew the Fjerdan crew’s taste for dominance. He wasn’t just going to let these men do as they please to the travelers that would pass their private routes.

He could only hope that this risky meeting they were doing would turn in their favor.

And yet as soon as they stood in front of Captain Hjar and his men, the wooden bridge that connected the two ships was cut off, causing shouts of protest from his crew back in his ship.

“Oh, wow," said Nikolai with mocking surprise. Tolya and Tamar tensed behind him, their hands already poised on the weapons strapped to their belts. He turned back to Hjar. "We haven't even started the meeting yet."

Captain Hjar only smirked. "Better not waste your time, little wolf," he said, his voice scratchy as if he had been shouting his whole life. "Why try to prolong this when it would still end in the same result?"

"Lay down your sword, Hjar."

"These men would be making bread from the bone and skin of skinny Ravkan boys tonight, little wolf. And I can assume your ship has plenty of valuables, aye? I cannot promise not to hurt your men," he said, and his men laughed together with him. When he stopped, his cold eyes held a dangerous glint as he stared at the twins behind Nikolai. "And it'd be fun to have some nice, warm campfire with those two Grisha of yours."

Something in Nikolai's mind had quieted, shutting out anything logical from coming into his head. The thoughts halted. His rage slowly took over like a monster finally overwhelming its prey. He felt numb and empty, and he realized that the rage was focused on the Fjerdan captain.

Then for the third time in his life, it happened again. Everything else faded around him and threw him under the landscape of complete darkness. It was like he had been thrown into the Fold. After a moment, it blurred and shifted to another—a small, empty shop in some town he couldn't recognize where. Then it shifted again, and this time, it showed him a man who was on his knees, clawing at his throat as if he were struggling to breathe.

Nikolai held onto those images in vain, so he could make sense of them earlier on. But the rage inside him had him forgetting them in a snap, and all he could feel was anger. Anger towards everything.

With that, his body relaxed, and he regarded Hjar with a calm tone. These men needed to know their places. "Maybe you're right about that, Hjar," he asked, and he saw the Fjerdan captain acknowledge him with mocking curiosity. "But it wouldn't be my men who would be butchered today."

He saw the shift of expression from the Fjerdan captain's face, and Nikolai pounced with his own sword.

The fight hadn't even lasted for a minute. Hjar's men had completely underestimated the mercenary twins by just being Grisha, but they were just as deadly as any well-trained assassins. Soon enough, Nikolai’s crew had the Fjerdans tied up and shoved them down their knees, with Hjar at Nikolai’s mercy. But he felt nothing at all.

"You want to know something, captain?" asked Nikolai mildly as he went behind the burly man and held up his tied hands on his back. Hjar gave a pained grunt. Then Nikolai leaned down near the man's ear. "Foolish old captains aren't fit meat for Ravkan men."

Then he took out his knife and cut the Fjerdan captain's fingers.

Nikolai barely heard the man's screams or even felt the blood gushing out from the wounds. He just felt numb all over. If his crew noticed the sudden change in his behavior, they didn't voice it out. Only the twins were the ones who showed a bewildered reaction as Nikolai held the decapitated fingers in his bloodied hands.

He threw them over his crew's guard hound dog at the side. "Eat up, Razjen," he said. "I'm pretty sure the dogs would appreciate that kind of meat given to them."

That same night, he and his Volkvolny crew had drunk and eaten to their guts' limits from the spoils they had divvied up from the Fjerdan trader ship. From the night until the earliest hours of dawn, they had laughed, celebrated, and sung until their throats were raw and their bellies full.

But when the night ended and Nikolai had retreated into the confines of the captain's quarters, he had thrown up everything he had eaten until tears stung his eyes. He had expected them to stop when he was done, but it only worsened as sobs and wails tore from his lips again, just like it had almost a decade ago, when he had collapsed in the palace gardens and cried himself out for a reason he had never known.

And as the hours passed and night broke into dawn, the tears had finally stopped. Nikolai fell asleep, but the hole that had made its way to his heart from the first time he felt the sudden shift in his emotions now only felt deeper than before.

***

Nikolai blinked as he felt the heavy tug in his heart again. It was much more painful than before as if whatever at the other end of the string wanted him to hurt on purpose, and he was left to choose whether to still follow her in or not.

The funeral had ended hours ago but he could still feel the heaviness and gloom lingering in the air. He wanted to visit Genya in her quarters for the night, just to extend whatever he could offer her for the meantime. But he decided against it when he rounded the corner leading to the Tailor’s chambers, and that’s when he saw Zoya coming out from the door. She had lingered outside for a moment, her hand clutching at the handle as if to hold herself upright. If he looked harder, he was sure it really was the reason as he saw her shoulders shaking and her head was bowed down, something his general never did.

A searing pain in his chest made him wince, the hurting so painful it felt like he had just been burned by a branding iron. The want—the need—to reach out for her was the only thing he had wanted to do at that moment. But he willed the thought away, remembering how the things were between them.

They did not look to each other for comfort, and he knew the last thing Zoya would want was for him to give her his sympathies. It had been their unspoken agreement ever since Ravka was put on their shoulders. There was no time for sentiments, they would only spiral them down much worse.

After another minute of silence, Zoya had quietly left, her form completely blending in with the gloominess that surrounded the palace walls. Nikolai decided to follow her out then, and it led him to now, following her through the dark, narrow walkway that led into someplace he wasn’t sure of. Tangles of vines pricked at his skin as he walked further. Eventually, he reached the other end of the path, and the sight of the place astonished him.

Flowers and shrubs of every variety were lined up in the soil beds, overwhelming the ground in different colors. The open ceiling of the area had allowed frost and snow to fall over the plants, and it coated the leaves and petals alike. It looked almost like a small world of only peace and serenity, and yet it felt like a garden of sadness, with grief dripping on every plant and bleeding through the four walls that surrounded it.

Nikolai spotted Zoya in the middle of the dim garden, her back turned to him as she looked around. Snow was starting to fall, and it caught in the dark waves of her hair. Under the moonlight, she was glowing, a saint watching over the people. But behind the light that masked her real face, something was wrong. What once was her perfect stance and chin held high, she was now hunched, bent down, as if she were hiding from the world.

Then he felt it again, the sharp and painful tug in his chest. But this time, it felt different. This time, it was leading in a direction.

And it was leading towards her.

Nikolai blinked, his eyes widening a fraction. Could it be—

"I'm running out of room," she said, her voice barely a quivering whisper.

Had she known he was following her all along?

"Do you—" Nikolai shook his head, unsure of what to say. He tried again. "You tend to this place?"

Zoya was silent for a moment. Her shoulders had gone stiff the same way she was poised for battle. But Nikolai had merely asked a question, and he wondered if it was prying enough to cause that reaction from her.

"I needed somewhere to go to distract myself, and this has always been the place my feet would lead me to," she said quietly. "It was an old vegetable garden. I found it years ago, back when—" Her voice broke into a muffled cry, and yet there were no tears, like she refused to let them fall. She shook her head, her hands lifting as if to brag about the wonderful bunch of plants around her. But the gesture looked so helpless, so lost, and she let her arms fall back limply to her sides. Then in a broken whisper, she repeated, "I'm running out of room."

Nikolai's eyebrows drew tight in concern. He took a step towards her, and stopped almost immediately. It felt like he was treading across a dangerous line that neither of them ever had the guts to cross. Things were already too complicated, whether it’s about Ravka or about them, and he didn’t want to make things worse. But he refused to leave her on her own. Not like this.

Slowly, he made his way towards her, feeling the tug become stronger and stronger until he stopped at her side. He felt the cold seep through his clothes, harsh and biting like Zoya’s daily demeanor. But tonight, there was only grief and sadness, and it made everything even colder.

There was a long silence between them as he waited for Zoya to speak. Or if she wanted to speak. He wasn’t going to force anything from her. It was already a painful day for them to get through, and he wouldn’t add to the burden they were all carrying on their shoulders. He was grateful for the silence either way.

But when Zoya spoke later, her voice was quiet, lacking the usual sharpness it always had. “I plant something new for every Grisha lost,” she started. And there it was again, the heavy feeling in Nikolai’s chest that weighed down on him and made him struggle to breathe. It took all of Nikolai not to reach out for her. Then she lifted her hand and started pointing to the plants. “Heartleaf for Marie. Yew for Sergei. Red Sentinel for Fedyor. Even Ivan has a place. He was once a soldier like us too, before the Darkling corrupted him.” She touched her fingers to a frozen stalk near the edge of the soil bed. “This was for Harshaw, and they will blossom bright orange in the summer, just as bright as his ridiculous hair.”

Nikolai felt a small smile twitch on his lips. There was an obvious jest in her tone, but her words were sad, still haunted by the past war they could never be free of. He reached for the plant, letting his fingers touch its leaves delicately. He dusted off the frost from the leaves’ surface, and it almost looked as new as ever. The Inferni had once fought beside him in the mountains and with Alina and the others in the Fold, proving his loyalty up until the very end. It was unfortunate that he didn’t get to see past the war as it had already taken his life.

“These Dahlias were for Nina when I thought she’d been captured and killed by the Fjerdans,” Zoya continued, her hands reaching out to the flowers next to Harshaw’s. “They bloom with the most ridiculous red flowers in the summer. They’re the size of dinner plates.” Then as steady as her hands were when she first reached out to touch them, they began to tremble badly. “This was the last one I vowed that I would plant. I kept promising myself over and over and over. But they only kept increasing. There was no end. And now David—” She stopped abruptly, her throat clogging up with a quiet sob. “I’m running out of room, Nikolai.”

A tear escaped Nikolai’s eye, and he quickly wiped it away. He didn’t know why he did that. Earlier in the funeral, he didn't shed a single tear when he gave the eulogy, only the prickling pain that gave the first signs of tears. But they didn’t fall. Guilt had been clawing at him ever since, thinking that he hadn’t cared enough to show that he was mourning the loss of an old friend. It was only reasonable to cry; they were all grieving, after all. So why still hide, when there was no one else to see him?

Then he realized it was what he had been used to. This was what they were taught. You don’t let yourself wallow in sadness—you get back up and continue on. No matter how heavy the weight on your shoulders was.

Soldiers did not cry. Princes did not weep. And kings should never get fazed by such sentiments and emotions.

But what if it was the only thing left to do?

Nikolai glanced at Zoya, seeing tears staining her cheeks as well. She wiped at them hastily and tried her best to blink them away. He heard her draw in a shuddering breath.

“They will continue to thrive and bloom as long as they get taken care of,” said Zoya, her fingers curling around a stalk from the dahlias. “But what if they don’t? What if they stopped even as I tend to them everyday?”

He immediately understood the deeper meaning behind her words. Every life lost under her watch; every Grisha blood staining her hands. It was the weight on her shoulders she had always carried, a weight that existed ever since she had been a soldier, up until now that she was their general.

If he could only take all the burden from her chest and carry it along with his own, he would have done it. But that wasn’t how it worked. They were all bound to have their own burdens—it would only be a matter of difference with the people around them that would help them get back up on their feet whenever they get too tired from carrying it all.

Nikolai let out a long breath, his gaze landing on the twisting gray branches that ran along the perimeter of the garden. He recognized it right away. “Thorn wood,” he murmured. He felt Zoya’s confusion even before she could voice it out, so he continued speaking. “It grows around, protecting everything within these walls, stronger than anything else in the garden, weathering every season. No matter the winter it endures, it still persists, all prickles and thorns and spines anger just to keep protecting everything here.” Then he turned to her, looking down at the bright and never-ending flames behind her eyes. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Those thorns, they remind me of you. Prickly and sharp, just like you are. But its purpose was to protect all these flowers and plants, like the way you protect our people.”

Zoya almost looked like she was on the brink of breaking, but her questions persisted. “And what if the winter is just too long and hard? What if it can’t continue protecting them all?”

He was afraid to reach for her, but he did it anyway. He took her gloved hand in his, and when he expected her to pull away, she didn’t. Instead she folded into him like a flower closing its petals at nightfall. “Then it would still be there, watching over all the flowers and plants, giving them the sense of protection, keeping them strong until the summer comes, even as its life withers away.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a laugh escaping his lips. “I do hope I made sense with all that blabbering.”

This earned a huff from his general. “Who says you ever did?” she said, but he felt her hand squeeze his back, gratitude evident even from that smallest of gestures. That was when tears fell from her eyes again, and Nikolai felt some of his own as well.

Trusting what his gut told him to do, he wrapped his arm around her.

And in the same exact moment, Nikolai didn’t feel the painful tug in his chest anymore. It was as if he had undone all the tangles and knots between, and he could finally pass through the thread without difficulties.

Zoya seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then with a soft breath, she let herself lean against him. Zoya the deadly. Zoya the ferocious. The weight of her against him felt like benediction, the long lost piece from the puzzle that he had been trying to figure out for years. For the first time in his short life, he felt at peace. He had been strong for his country, his soldiers, his friends. It meant something entirely different to be strong for her.

When he thought that they did not look at each other for comfort, he had just been understanding it quite differently. No, they gave each other comfort in their own way—whether it was through sharp wits and harsh words that kept their will stronger, or even just through knowing looks and long silences. It was their way to tell each other that they were always there to keep each other marching on their feet, and pull each other from the darkness they were both continuously fighting their way out of.

There would still be a lot of problems to face, obstacles to get past with, lives to be lost. But they would be alright. They still had each other to get through everything, and it was enough.

Together.

And that’s how it would be from then on until the very end.

***

He used to believe that the other end of the string was just like any other end, blunt and empty. Not once did he ever think that he could be wrong.

Now, Nikolai knew one thing. It would always lead towards her.

#zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #king of scars #my writing #hHNNNNGGGG #guess who came back to post some shitty mess #HALJKHASDFLJAS #the canon events in their childhood are so close to their ages so it's quite fun to make these parallels #and it's sad sad #;-;#i hope i did justice with the garden scene rewrite/alternate version #tiff came up with this idea some time ago and i only finished it today T-T #everyone go support tiff and her galaxy brain plz #no that is not a request #it's now time to disappear again for another few months HAHAH

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sinisterlyhan · 4 years

Text

03. jisung ; hyunsung / 8705 words

incubus!hyunsung, oral (m receiving), female reader, unprotected sex, choking kink, a mild hint of jealousy, a little fluff at the end

tw: slight mention of force

parts: 01 ; 02 ; 03

your hands fell onto your lap after another failed attempt at calling his name, a shy yet frustrated groan sounding from your throat as you covered your eyes with the heels of your palms.

you were seated right in the middle of a brand new sheet, one you bought from the local department store for the personal use of summoning demons. the white sheet has been painted on with a dark red glyph for almost twenty minutes now, and you still have yet to call up the boys you've been dying to meet; each time you chanted the spell, you stop just when you were supposed to speak their name.

a rush of embarrassment kept glowing over you for some reason. it seemed you have yet to get over how you managed to be turned into a damn filthy doll overnight, much like how your last encounter with jisung and hyunjin, which was already weeks ago, still lingered in the front lines of your head almost every waking second.

they have really fucked themselves into your head, everything from their intense glowy eyes to the scratch of their nails haunted your days and nights. and everything reminded you of them, starting with the unfading hickey jisung sucked onto your skin to the empty clench of your cunt that just constantly felt so overwhelming.

you haven’t been touched, kissed, nor filled up to the brim in weeks. your fingers and the vibrator you secretly got off online were not good enough to replace the blissful skin-to-skin sensation you knew those two demons would be more than capable of giving you.

and it was getting so bad, your neediness growing with each sunrise, to a point where just the mere thought of their faces was enough to make your head hazy with lust and longing.

but even then, you kept pushing back summoning them again for some reason. a very broken part of your heart kept forgetting how tightly jisung has cuddled your warm body to him, forgetting how gentle hyunjin had kissed your swollen lips and rubbing your sore skin, forgetting how kindly they have treated you after they practically fucked you into oblivion.

your mind kept wandering off to how they would react to you summoning them again, and somehow you developed an unreasonable fear of having your terrible assumption—that they wouldn’t want to see you again—becoming a reality.

it was a problem of your lack of self-worth; if the boys were here, they would have the scent of your insecurities sniffed out in seconds, and they would probably hate that.

“huh.” you exhaled slowly, trying to coax yourself into submission by thinking about the alternative, by remembering how good they have made you feel the night you first met them. you could have that right at your fingertips if you could just try. one of them even left you a note! “damn it, why is this so hard? freaking stupid, stupid han jisung!”

in the middle of your mildly insulting chant, where you repeatedly called hyunjin and jisung stupid when the truly stupid one in the room was you, the glyph you were seated on had glowed a bright, brilliant shade of blood red for a brief second before a shadowy substance appeared at the corner of your room. jisung soon morphed into shape, the black substance trickling off his shoulders into nothingness.

he took a look around your room. nothing has changed since the last time he has been in it; the mini-trinkets on your desk were still arranged on the same spot, your mattress was draped over with the same cover he fucked you on last time, and the basket of freshly cleaned, unfolded laundry stained of your that honey-sweet scent of your naked body.

jisung let him bask in your warm and homey room, his gaze finally making their way away from the furniture and onto you. he softened, his back relaxing and his eyes sparking a faint shade of red at the sight of you kneeling with your hands to your eyes.

supposed the only thing that changed was him; he came back to your room with more longing and more anticipation than he did last time. and if he has only able to enjoy half of his sexual encounters with other people before, he definitely hasn’t been able to enjoy any of them after he got a chance to lay with you.

“what are you doing?”

his low and tender voice snapped you out of your trance, and you yelped when you found him to be only inched away from your face after opening your eyes. his eyes were a golden shade of brown, like sunlight filtered through the gaps of trees, and looking into them made you dizzy.

“i… uhh…”

you hadn’t gotten a chance to speak when jisung leaned in to press his lips against yours. he went slow, he was thorough in recalling the shape of your mouth, none at all like the first time he kissed you. and you closed your eyes, your head leaning back when he pushed forward to deepen the kiss, wanting to taste more of you.

ahh, how jisung has missed you. your softness and your innocence, your lips and your tightness. he missed you much more than he wanted to miss you. it was like you infiltrated his head, like you just barged in without knocking or taking your shoes off, infuriatingly occupying his brain when all he wanted to do was to keep his cool and wait for you.

but it has been weeks since you last called. the desire to touch you burned inside him in ways he could not fathom.

this wasn’t supposed to happen to him; he wasn’t supposed to think about you when he has his cock stuffed inside somebody else, he wasn’t supposed to be so reluctant to chase his high in a stranger’s eyes, he wasn’t supposed to feel so anxious thinking that maybe you neglected him and called up hyunjin instead.

how was he supposed to stop himself when you finally appeared before him again? and without hyunjin’s presence as well? this felt like a miracle, a gift sent to him by god, a damn utopia.

leaning further into you, your back soon hit the thin white sheet that winkled when you both moved. you moved your legs, separating them so jisung could have access to the middle where he could comfortably lay his body on top of yours. and he had your hands pinned to the side of your head, fingers pressing onto your palm and his hands pressured against your wrists.

“ji–jisun–jisung–“

he kept kissing you, you couldn’t even find breaks in between to mumble into his mouth. his lips just kept moving against yours, devouring you and pouring out all his lonely sorrows as a sort of payback for taking so long to summon him again. after he was done with your lips, he slowly trailed down to your chin, planting kisses along the side of your face until he stopped at your neck.

“what took you so long, sweet cheeks?” he mumbled then, brushing his lips softly against your skin before he dove in.

“i’m so–i’m sorry.” you angled your head, allowing him more access to attack your skin with soft smooches and light bites. the feeling of his wet mouth jolted your desperation out of you like lightning and suddenly, your head was filled with nothing else but the tingly sensation of being peppered with affection.

you were able to enjoy the euphoria for a while before you were lunged out of your colorful trance with the realization that jisung already had one hand slipped under your shirt. right, you finally remembered that he is an incubus and he had been summoned with the expectation of having sex with you like last time.

and while you were welcome to that, while you have been wanting that, within this impulsive of the moment, your brain short-circuited at the thought with a wave of horrible assumption about jisung’s unspoken feelings. it hit you again that what if he was rushing this? he barely said anything and went on to kiss you, was that desperation or impatience? was it because he couldn’t wait to touch you, or was it because he couldn’t wait to end it?

your eyes widened slightly and your brows furrowed. the cycle would continue when he’s done, with him having to go back to hell and you once again waiting another few weeks before you could bust up the courage to summon them again. you didn’t want that, you wanted jisung to stay longer. you’ve got to stall some time.

“oh, wait, jisung.”

your hand went down to grab his, stopping him from his advances. jisung pulled away from your neck and looked up at you, his brows furrowed at the interruption but he gave you the space you needed to speak.

as you tried to sit up, your legs moving to stand, you spoke, “wait, i need to do something first–“

“oh, please,” he huffed out, rolling his eyes before he leaned in to try and attach his lips to yours again. “fuck that, it can wait,”

you turned your cheek, his lips landing on your hair and causing him to grimace in annoyance. you pushed your hands to his shoulders, moving him away from you as you clarified, “just a moment! let me summon hyunjin too.”

“woah, hey, hold on,” jisung said after a moment of processing, a huff of laughter stuffed between as he looked at you in disbelief. “i thought this would just be you and me.”

you paused nervously. his face was unreadable, in a way that there were too many emotions mixed in you couldn’t tell which one was the dominant one. was it the disappointment in his pout? or it could be the faint anger hiding behind the red sparks of his eyes? whatever it was, you just knew he was very opposed to the side of calling hyunjin up as well, and you weren’t sure how to respond to that.

your original plan was to call both of them, but since you had forgotten how you did it last time so now you have to summon them up individually. perhaps jisung got the wrong idea after you accidentally said his name out loud enough for the ritual to hear you.

“well, i just thought because last time–“ you fiddled with your finger awkwardly, your head hung low as you refused to look at him out of embarrassment. “i just didn’t…”

“didn’t what?” jisung asked, his voice raised stoically.

the doorbell of your home suddenly rang, saving you from jisung’s intense gaze with a distraction. you looked away from him to the door of your bedroom with brightened eyes, your mood instantly lifted when you tore yourself away from the million-dollar question you have yet to find the perfect answer for.

“i’ll go get that real quick,” you mumbled under your breath as you scrambled up to your feet and left your room.

it was just the girl who lived next door asking you about the jumpy internet in the residential building recently. you were hoping it would be somebody with better conversation skills, perhaps the old lady who would occasionally bring after school snacks over to your home, at least she would want to ask you how your day went and you could stall more time before you have to go back to the awkward tension.

as you watched her frown at you for trying to stretch out the conversation more than it should, her distracted eyes slowly moved away from your face to the boy who had crept up silently behind you. seeing that she had stopped paying attention to you, you curiously glanced behind your shoulder and immediately got startled to find jisung only inches away from your back.

“you scared me,” you hissed, giving his arm a shove. “i’m just talking to my neighbor! go back to my room!”

jisung furrowed his brows at you, refusing to budge even as you gave him a few shoves on the shoulders. the nonchalant look behind the stranger’s eyes was pissing him off for some reason—this little shit. he would have gotten his answer by now if she hadn’t rung the doorbell, or at least he would have dove right back into kissing you again and left the problem unattended.

he could have convinced you to leave hyunjin wherever he was right now so he could have you all to himself. but no, someone has to come up and ruin everything for him. and judging by the spark of realization and mischief behind her eyes, she was about to ruin it even more for him.

“oh–oh wait. holy shit, no way,” she said with a tone of disbelief, her jaw dropping as she tried not to laugh from shock. pointing a finger at jisung, she glanced at you and whispered just loud enough for all three of you to hear. “is this the hyunjin you kept screaming about lately?”

your cheeks reddened at the comical smirk she was flashing you, genuine curiosity laying behind her face as she glanced between a very pissed-off jisung and a very humiliated you, as if she was trying to see if you two would fit together well enough that she could see you two having sex together. you didn’t even have to turn around to feel jisung tense from behind you, the hotness of his body radiating in a threatening way.

oh, this is bad, really bad.

for one, you had no idea she was able to hear you through the apartment walls. you thought you were being quiet enough just in case you couldn't hear your parents returning home from work, but it could also be possible that you have shamelessly let out a few cries of his name during the neediest moments of your imagination, your hand repeatedly sliding the vibrator into your core as you tried so hard to remember the feeling of his cock.

she could have heard those unfulfilling climaxes you had. but fuck, out of all the times you’ve pleasured yourself, she just coincidentally decided to only pick up the ones when you moaned hyunjin’s name instead of jisung’s? and she dared to knock on your door and expose it to your face as well!

humiliating, embarrassing, stupid! you were trying so hard not to seem like you were being needy just in case you appeared pathetic! now all your effort to stall time, thus creating such an awkward tension, has gone to waste.

“please leave,” you said meekly, gesturing your arm to the side where her flat was located with a flushed face. “just go, oh my god, go.”

jisung’s fury did not falter as the girl gave you a nod before she left with a giggle she failed to surprise. he kept glaring at her head until she left, and then his eyes shifted to the back of your head and he simply tensed up even more than before.

oh, the way his heart just dropped to his stomach when he heard that you’ve been calling hyunjin’s name was beyond anything he has ever felt. first, it was you wanting to call him up, now it was about you touching yourself to the thought of him. oh the devils, could this get any worse for jisung?

he was already confused about his affection enough, now to have it all thrown at his face with hellfire was nothing he could handle properly. the disappointment, the heartbreak, the burning sensation ignited along the paths of his veins leading directly to his scratched-up heart—it was like his world stopped turning for a moment like he just found out you cheated on him.

but you could never cheat on him because you were never his, to begin with. he was just an incubus, so was hyunjin. that was all there was to it, at least that was all there was supposed to be. and since humans can play favorites, while they can call up whoever they wanted, it seemed to him that you have chosen your pick, and the demon wasn’t him.

jisung didn’t know why you called him up then, but since you did anyway, he figured he’d just try to discard his emotions and fuck you like he does everyone else. and a part of him wanted to do that in order to gain some sort of validation from you, to hear you moan because of him, to see that he could be on par with hyunjin in terms of pleasuring you.

he wouldn’t admit it, but he just wanted you to like him back, even just a little bit.

“jisung, don’t listen to her–“ you went to place a hand on his shoulder, but your wrist was gabbed in a millisecond before he started to yank you back into his house. your steps stumbled as you tried to stop him, eyes wide in confusion at his sudden force. “wait, hold on, what are you doing?”

he turned around abruptly, his hand reaching behind your head to cup your neck before he leaned close to your ear. when he spoke, his voice was hauntingly low it almost sounded surreal. “get in the house before i fuck you out here in the hall,” he whispered. “you bet i’ll make sure everyone living on this floor knows who i am.”

you shivered at his words, your knees weakening slightly at the anticipation for what could come but also from the way he was looking at you. his hooded eyes were furious and his grip was deadly, much worse than the first time he grabbed you on the chin.

you would welcome the roughness if it was within the context that the situation ha escalated to that point, but this—this was too abrupt, you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy it.

“jisung, are you oka–“ you got cut off when he growled under his breath. he pulled you into the house himself, slamming the door shut before pushing your back against it with an aching shove.

your hands gripped his flexed arms when he pressed his lips against yours harshly, pushing your head back against the wooden door. he immediately started to suck on your bottom lip without giving you a second of rest, a small whine leaving your lips as he poked his tongue between the gaps of your teeth. he swiped across your bottom teeth, pulled his tongue back, and bit on your lip again.

you were trying so hard to reciprocate the kiss, to move along with his pace, but it felt like you were reverted to when he kissed you for the first time where he was moving too fast and too rough. you weren’t enjoying it, you didn’t like it at all.

“ow–jisung!” you turned your face and pushed him away from you when you felt a sudden sting at your bottom lip. you stopped at arm’s length where you could finally see him clearly, turning to him with wide eyes and an opened mouth.

it was lucky of you to even have the strength to tear him away from you, but you got even luckier when you caught his eyes and he responded to the utter confusion hidden beneath them. his hands dropped from your waist when he glanced at your red, swollen lips that had just a trace of blood lingering on top.

you looked almost appalled by what he did, with your brows furrowed at the red drop you touched onto your fingertip. “jisung, why did you do that? that hurts!”

“i–“ jisung paused. his previous thought to just get you over with vanishing within a blink of an eye when he realized he’s actually caused harm this time. he curled his hands into fists, his muscles tensing up at the thought that you probably hate him even more than you already do, now that he’s let his jealousy and insecurity overwhelm his head. “i’m so sorry, (name).”

you raised your brows, softening at his mellow voice. he couldn’t even look at you when he apologized, and you could see how tensed up he was. perhaps he was ashamed of what he did, perhaps he felt bad that he had taken his anger out on you when he shouldn’t; either way, while still being quite annoyed that he didn’t try a calmer approach, you were appreciative of his sincere apology.

short and straight to the point. no excuses or whatnots. it was already better than how a lot of humans like to do it these days.

“hey,” you called out softly as you stepped up to cup his cheeks in your hands. you searched his eyes, caress his heart with your tender gaze when he finally found it in himself to look back at you. you arched a brow playfully, your thumbs pressing into his cheeks as you said, “you gotta look at people when you talk to them, you know?”

he pursed his lips together, his heart hammering in his chest. you didn’t smell of hated at all, you simply smelt like you—sweet like honey, soft as freshly washed laundry.

once again you set aside the madness and the pain of your own to cradle him in your arms like he held some sort of importance in your life, because your compassion rivaled that of the galaxy. and at this point, he could be all but annoyed and jealous.

jisung was just confused, with a little bit of longing, and perhaps he was in love.

“i’m so sorry i hurt you,” he muttered under his breath, his bottom lip slightly jutting out.

“i forgive you,” you said. “but i’d like to know why you got so rough all of a sudden?”

now it was his turn to get flustered. admitting to his wrongdoings and apologizing was already a brand new world for him, as refreshing and relieving as it felt to hear that you didn’t hold any grudges against what he did. but to admit that he felt jealous? that he felt inferior to another incubus, not to mention the said incubus was hwang hyunjin?

oh hell, no, that was the line he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cross.

“jisung?” you called him again, eyes patient and hands soft.

he looked at you, brows furrowed with defeat at the mercy of your hands; he had come to realize there isn’t any line he wouldn’t be willing to cross for you.

“it’s just….” he sighed. “you don’t scream my name.”

for some reason, the thought didn’t feel as embarrassing as it did when it was first revealed just a minute ago. your cheeks didn’t flush red and your voice didn’t tremble in an attempt to find a terrible excuse to cover the matter up.

you only breathed out a soft laugh, amused. something about the way jisung seemed to genuinely upset that you never thought about him when you were fucking yourself was, in some ways, adorable.

he had no idea how many times you thought about him at night, yearning for his hands to roam around your body, desperate for the strength and speed you couldn’t provide for yourself.

“oh, but i do, i have,” you said, leaning closer to his face. “she just didn’t hear me when i did.”

he huffed, rolling his eyes to the side slightly to express his dissatisfaction. he wasn’t really upset at you anymore, he just wished he didn’t have to be mistaken as hyunjin and that he didn’t have to hear about him being excluded from your dirty fantasies. but his moody thoughts soon faded when you squished his cheeks, leaning even closer to him until your noses touched.

“how can i make it up to you, hmm?” you asked under your breath, looking into his eyes as you nudged the side of his nose, rubbing against it teasingly before you leaned in to kiss him.

oh, where the hell did this boldness come from? jisung wasn’t sure and neither were you, but you were both enjoying it to the fullest as your mouths moved against each other slowly. there was a sense of hotness in the way your lips moved, trying to find the perfect angle and the perfect pressure so he wouldn’t leave a single inch of you unattended.

your back was pushed against the door again as the moment got more urgent. jisung pressed himself up towards your body, chest to chest with his knee forced between your legs. you hummed when he kneaded up on your clothed heat, rubbing against your clit and giving you a jolt of stimulation you’ve been needing all this time.

he finally found it in himself to pull away from him after a few more rubs of his knee against your heat, and he instinctively placed a hand to the back of your neck to keep you close. he pressed his forehead against yours, his chest heaving to catch his breath. his eyes were darker now, but unlike before, they didn’t lack softness in them when he asked carefully, “can you let me do what i want with you, sweet cheeks?”

“yeah.” you nodded without giving it another thought.

the last thing you saw was a spark of red before jisung dove into your face. you shut your eyes, feeling his lips on yours for a rough second before he traveled down to your jaw and your neck, sucking and biting even more hickeys on your skin to overlap the previous ones that haven’t faded yet. his hands roamed around your figure as he buried himself in your scent, squeezing your flesh and cupping your breasts to elicit any type of response from you.

he needed to hear you, badly, whether it was a gasp or a whimper. and like he suspected, your sounds were much more achieving than anybody else’s he has heard these few weeks.

“fuck, jisung–“ you gasped after his hand found their way to the waistband of your short, and he didn’t hesitate in yanking the fabric off your hips so he could tug your pantie to the side and slip a finger between your folds.

“seems like you’ve missed me, sweet cheeks,” he gloated, feeling your walls shrink under his slow pumping, hugging his finger tightly as he slipped it in and out of you.

you hummed out a whimper of agreement when he forced your walls to expand by adding another finger inside, your juices a teasing trail rolling down the gaps between his fingers. and he was really thinking you’d at least be a little used to this after you’ve finally started to finger yourself in your own time, suppose nothing can ever replace the way he does it, not even yourself.

ahh, he couldn’t wait. he couldn’t wait for the moment he could finally push himself inside of you, to feel the first stretch hyunjin beat him to last time. you’re gonna be so good for him, he just knew it.

his thorough pace turned quicker and quicker by the second, and soon the squelching sound of your juices echoed throughout the living room. the tightening in your abdomen was getting overwhelming with each shove of his fingers inside your hole, and each time you could feel your knees giving out more and more. jisung was the only thing holding you up as you sink yourself into the pleasure of not having to do this by yourself, his arm gripping red fingerprints on the side of your waist.

for someone who was going at a pace where his main goal was to chase your high, it came as a disappointing surprise when jisung suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. your whine faltered mid-way and you looked down at him, your brows furrowing questioningly at him. he only smirked, utterly enjoying the way you blushed when he brought his hand up to his mouth and licked a long stripe up his wet finger.

you watched him suck his fingers clean with a fried mind, part of you too shy to say anything while the other part of you screamed at how alluring the flicks of his tongue was. and you didn’t complain when he leaned in to kiss you, poking his tongue into your mouth to lather your essence all over you.

as you panted into his mouth, he reached down to tug at your thighs and guided them around his waist. your circles your arms around his neck, feeling him push you against the door with a thrust at your wet core, his cock hard and vivid under his pants. you tugged at his hair, your hand clawing at his back as he continued to push himself against you for a faint taste of sweet friction, and you pouted with a whine as you moved away for a little.

“jisung…” you wanted more, you wanted to feel him. and he was only a thin piece of fabric away yet he wasn’t giving it to you.

his eyes trailed down to the string of saliva connecting your lips, and even lower he could see the colors he painted onto your skin. all of them fueled him to want more, to finally rid you of your last piece of clothing and just pound into you as he wishes.

“what?” he asked when he finally looked back at you, slightly annoyed that you broke the kiss but he tilted his head when he saw the dazed and needy look on your face. he wasn’t sure when you started to be so bold; last time he checked you were still flustered over hyunjin eating you out, and now you were here asking him to fuck you with pleading eyes.

jisung didn’t hate it, but if you were going to beg for him then you better start using your words. and even then, he might not give you exactly what you want.

“what do you want?” he asked in a hush, his face moving to your neck and licking up your skin.

you pursed your lips together at his question, trying to focus on your thoughts but feeling extremely distracted at the way his tongue flickered across your sensitive spot. you knew what you wanted, just not so much how to say it out loud. and it seemed that your shyness has come back from its short-term vacation because just thinking about filthily begging to be stuffed has got your cheeks tainted red.

jisung’s fingers ran up your body, tapping harsh touches on your skin as they ran up your side and your bones before his hand reached your chin. he grabbed a firm hold of your face, squeezing your cheeks together as he yanked your head to the side to give himself more access to your neck.

“i asked what do you want, baby,” he huffed out near your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “answer me before i leave you with nothing, mmhm?”

“i… i want…” you gulped nervously, finding it hard to swallow your saliva when he has your face squeezed so tightly in the palm of his hand. “i want you to fuck me.”

jisung raised a brow in disdain, staring at you in mock boredom. your voice was hopeless enough for his liking, so small and weak that it gave him a sense of arousing power. your throat bobbed under the influence of his strength, desperately trying to get rid of the liquid gathering up around your inner-cheeks. it was good, but not good enough. it lacked an element in it that he was itching to have.

“is that how you ask people for a favor, sweet cheeks?” he asked, tightening his grip and pushing your head further against the door.

you whimpered at the pain, silently finding it confusing how it could mix in so well with the thrill piling up in your chest. you should be scared with the amount of force he was putting on your small, little face but you weren’t. if anything, you found his demands alluring and his force sexy, you just wanted to feel even smaller under his grasp.

“no–no,” you replied.

“so tell me again,” he said, his enjoyment from watching you squirm in embarrassment the only thing keeping his patience intact. because no matter how strong of a front he was putting up right now, the smell of your essence wafting before his nose was, still, making him spiral into madness. “what do you want?”

“i want you to fuck me, ple–please,” you pleaded, your eyes rolling upwards when you heard a low chuckle from him. your hands went up to his wrist, holding on him as your shoulders rose with your heavy breathing. “please, jisung, i want you to fi–fill me up. please, i want to feel you.”

you were so adorably shy. it’s almost cute if jisung wasn’t aching to finally plunge himself into your right now.

abruptly yanking you by the neck, his eyes took a quick scan of your living room before he dragged you along with him to where the dining table was. his hand briefly let go of you just so he could push your chest against the wooden surface, your head almost hitting down the vase located in the middle.

“wait, right here?” you asked, your eyes wide as you tried to look up.

“yes,” jisung replied, pushing your head back down as he leaned against your back to speak at your ear. “you said you’ll let me do anything i want with you, so i say i’m fucking you where you eat.”

the discomfort of your breasts being squished against the surface melted in with your eagerness when you heard jisung fumbling with the belt of his pants. oh, you’ve been waiting for this day, you’ve been waiting so impatiently and so desperately for his cock, you couldn’t even begin to explain how excited you were to be able to feel that incredible stretch they gave you again.

jisung pulled his belt out of the loops of his pants, gripping it in his hands when it left his pants all loose around his waist. before he could discard it on the floor, however, a second glance gave him a sudden bulb of an idea. he looked at the belt in his hand and glanced back at your body, pinned up uselessly against the surface as you waited for him.

a hum escaped his lips as he removed his hand from your back and brushed your hair away from your back. he clicked his tongue in thoughts, his eyes reddening as he gently ran the back of his finger across your exposed neck. and then he smirked, his grip tightening around his belt for a moment before he released it to let the length drop.

you gasped when you felt jisung pull your head up by your hair, and before long he threw his belt over the curve of your neck and buckled it up at the back. your brows furrowed in confusion, unsure what he was doing exactly until he used his hand to tighten the excess part of the belt. he punctured a hole through the leather with the sharp prong before he looped it through and tightened it around your neck.

it was a choker made out of his belt, you could feel the rusty metal buckle on your flesh. it was a manual leash around your neck he could tug at whenever he wanted to.

you couldn’t see his face, but he was grinning the whole while he shrugged off his pants and pulled his hardened member out of the confines of his boxers. somehow just staring at you with a mock dog leash on your neck was enough to arouse him to the maximum, pre-cum leaking off his tip and dripping down his length like melted chocolate. he pumped his length a few times, rubbing his own cum all over to lube it up a little before he positioned himself at your entrance.

you sucked in a breath, your cheek pressed against the table with your breathing increasing. he was gathering up your wetness by running his tip up and down your slit, making sure you were prepared enough before he slides himself in. it felt so tingly, like needles ghostly being dragged up and down your back. that was until he finally pushed himself in, slowly and carefully, when the needles started to poke instead of a brush.

jisung cursed under his breath at your automatic clench. he didn’t feel this last time; like hyunjin said, he fucked you loose before jisung got the chance to slip himself inside of you. your walls were closing down on him dangerously and slowing down his movement. he could feel the slick skin within clamping down on him to add pressure on his cock, and he tried his best not to shove himself all the way in.

that would be painful for you. besides, the initial stretch is often the best pleasure to have.

he stayed in you for a moment after only pushing in half-way, sweat already starting to gather at his forehead. you moaned meanwhile he continued the cycle of pulling out and slowly slipping back in, helping you with adjusting to his size and making sure you could feel him thoroughly before he fucked your senses away from your head.

“you doing good, sweet cheeks?” he asked, leaning down to place a kiss on your arm as his hands snuck under your shirt to squeeze your boob.

“yeah,” you replied breathlessly, bumping your forehead against the surface at the feeling. “jisung–jisung, please move.”

“you’ve really missed my cock, huh?” he chuckled, complying with your request and rolling his hips against your ass.

you nodded, your hum a weak squeal. “yeah, i’ve missed your cock, jisung,” you said desperately, your hands curling into fists as you rubbing your cheek against the wooden surface.

fuck, you’ve yearned for this feeling. this torn feeling at your abdomen where his cock moved sluggishly in and out of your cunt, his hot skin a million times better than a vibrating plastic toy. and your greediness was growing with each stroke of blissful abandon, your walls clenching in an indication that you wanted him more. harder and faster.

“ahh! jisung please, please move faster,” you whined against the table, your hot breath bouncing back against your face. “please fuck me.”

he furrowed his brows, feeling quite annoyed that you were down there yapping about wanting more when he was putting in most of the work. but granted, he wasn’t feeling too bad himself. in fact, your pussy was making him feel absolutely elated; your clench giving his dick the right amount of pressure, your moans of his name giving him just the validation and reassurance he needed, and you’ve picked up quickly on the slutty begging.

oh devils—jisung could imagine the look on hyunjin’s face when he found out you two have done it without his presence, and the fact that he’s fucked the filthy obedience into your head. fuck, he was over the moon just thinking about it!

“it’s not good to be impatient, sweet cheeks,” he scolded lowly before a smile reached his lips. “but since you begged so nicely, i guess i can give you what you want.”

your jaw dropped at the sudden snap of his hip, a really strong one that pushed you up the table. and starting from then on, there were no more breathy moans and soft whimpers anymore.

jisung was pounding into you hard and fast, so much that the table began to squeak under the weight and the vase in the middle rattled threateningly close to your head. the sound of hot skin slapping echoed throughout the room, mixing in with your cries of his name until your voice came to a choked halt.

with a swift yank, your head snapped upwards and your back arched at the pressure of jisung tugging at his belt. the leather pulled at your throat, sticking against it and printing a red collar shape on your delicate skin. it was cutting your air as much as his hand could have, making your moans extremely strained and throaty.

this felt dirty. you were literally being treated like a dog on a leash right now, your head forced up by his belt as he thrust into you from behind. jisung’s grunts were hoarse, his growls sending waves of shivers pitter-pattering down your heart because he was enjoying himself so much using your hole. and you shamelessly liked it, the guilted part of your heart found immense pleasure from being treated like this.

noticing the way you got louder with him pulling at your throat, jisung couldn’t help but breathe out a sinister laugh as he pulled on his belt even more. your torso went up with his force, feeling his chest press against your back for a brief second before you arched off with the way he was hitting you at this new angle.

his hand continued to stimulate your nipple as he dragged your head back against his shoulder when his fingers moved up the tug at the back of his belt collar. you choked out a moan when he pulled at it, feeling the metal buckle straining against your bones.

he kissed your shoulders as if that could soothe you down from the way he relentlessly pounded into you, your voice urging his never-ending stamina to keep fucking you until he could feel your release.

“fuck, jisung!” you suddenly cried when you felt his tip brush deep into your hole, finding and thrusting up against your g-spot. your body jolted and your knees buckled at the zap of electricity coursing through your veins, scratching up an aching burn in your abdomen.

“am i making you feel good, hmm?” he mused, brushing his nose along your shoulder before he pulled your head back further to kiss your cheek. “ugh, i’ve missed you so much.”

he moved faster, stimulating your sweet spot with quick and greedy thrusts, making you lose your sanity to a point where all you could do was hang out mouth open and look up at the ceiling. he chuckled; you couldn’t remember any words.

your cunt had started to quiver slightly before, but the trembling of your walls were getting more and more overwhelming that jisung wasn’t able to ignore it anymore. you were getting closer to your climax. he knew just from your lack of words and your seductive scent changing from warm honey to dark roses.

deciding to change position, he slipped himself outside of you with a quick plop before spinning you around. you could feel one moment of emptiness, but the hollowness faded quickly when jisung immediately hoisted your body up on the edge of the table.

he spread your legs apart with his hands and before you could even snap out of your trance, he had inserted himself back into you, continuing where he left off to chase after your high.

he tugged at his belt to move you forward, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss you tried to keep up with. it was mostly just jisung sucking on your lips while you moaned your pleasures out and instinctively opened your legs even more for him. he could feel his own knot tightening at his tip whenever the sound of your essence gurgling inside your pussy gets too loud, and he couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of your juices coating his cock again, to feel the hot white substances trailing past his skin.

“jisung–i’m–mmm–jisung,” you whined into his mouth, feeling him pull away to look at your squinted eyes.

“cum around me, sweet cheeks,” he demanded, his hand moved to your trembling thighs, squeezing them for support so he could steady his pace and his strength. “you better fucking scream my name when you do it, or else we’re starting over again.”

you could feel the pleasure piling up, adding to the pain you felt at your ass where the edge of the table pressed against your bones. and with one last thrust, with one last scream of his name, your orgasm unraveled and your cum spilled all over your walls. jisung grunted at the warmth, his cock being clenched with brand new, sticky white walls that inked your cum onto his skin.

looking down when he pulled away, his mouth hung open at the cum that dripped out of your cunt and the lines of your whiteness that splattered onto him. he could feel his dick twitch at the sight, and he quickly shoved himself back inside you both to reach his own orgasm and to ask for more of your juices.

the thought of having your essence all over him an incredibly heavenly idea. and all of this—this lustful euphoria, this demonic insanity he felt has only happened with you. he hasn’t felt this way in weeks, or ever before that, actually.

fucking other humans just doesn’t feel the same as fucking you, because jisung didn’t like anyone else.

a throaty moan left his lips when he felt tingles all over his cock, he knew he was close. removing himself away from you suddenly, he stepped back and pulled at his belt to yank you off the table. your weak legs made you go down immediately, your knees hitting the ground with a bang and your face presented right in front of jisung’s glistening cock.

“open up,” he said, circling his belt around his knuckles before he pulled you up.

your mouth was forced open with that sudden pull, a yelp being muffled as soon as jisung stuck himself inside of your mouth. you still weren’t very used to this, even after having both of them spread your mouth open with their cocks last time.

your mere mouth wasn’t able to take him whole before and you couldn’t suddenly be able to now without any practice, therefore you were left a messy, choking mess when jisung bottomed out in your mouth. not to mention he was yanking you up by the throat, causing heavy trouble in your breathing.

your neck hurt from constantly facing skyward, your mouth limp from being forced open, and your gag reflex a nightmare when his tip kept brushing against your uvula. even then, though, you could see that jisung was having the time of his long, long life.

his eyes were shut and his head thrown back slightly, grunts and moans were leaving his lips like a mantra. it was an angelic sight to see him enjoy himself like this, abusing your throat and mindlessly yanking at your neck.

not to be narcissistic but you took pride in yourself for being able to pleasure him like this.

his cum was still bitter the way you remembered from last time. you swallowed them down as he released them, your throat bobbing against the leather belt as you drank down his heavy load. this felt even more than last time, and you wondered if he hadn’t been able to release his sexual frustration lately.

jisung pulled away from your mouth, his dick limp against his thighs with the shimmering of saliva reflected on the skin. he looked down at you when you started to cough for air, your hands reaching up to wipe off the dripping drool around your lips. sighing out a heavy exhale, he leaned down slightly to tug your body up by the mock leash. he muffled your gasp with his lips, tasting himself on it for a brief moment before pulling away to stare at you.

your eyes teary and hazed, your hair a tousled mess, your lips wet with saliva and cum, your neck and collarbones painted with red marks and purple bruises. and oh fuck, you look stunning like this.

“i…” he shut his mouth.

oh, devils, he almost said it.

his eyes softened at your fragile frame then, the previous aggressiveness fading in a second. he knelt beside you, his hands fumbling to release his belt from your neck before throwing the accessory aside.

he ran his hand across your red skin, a gentle grimace on his face as he soon circled his arm around your torso and brought you to his body. tilting your head up, he laid kitten licks across the hot skin and kissed the afterglow of the pain away. you let him, still trying to catch your breath from the previous encounter.

jisung pulled away from you after he was down patting down your neck with his lips, and he smiled a little at you with a pet to the side of your head. you were smiling at him, your eyes teary and your lips red; he thought you looked great, sexy even. especially more since he did this to you.

tentatively moving closer to you, he looped his arms around your back and under your legs before he pulled you into his arms and held you up bridal style. he slumped down on the couch, marveling at the softness of it as he cuddled you close to his chest.

“are you feeling okay?” he asked, glancing down at you and kissing the top of your head. “you did so well, baby, but did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, leaning against his shoulder with your eyes closed. “it’s fine, i actually kind of liked that.” you giggled. “thank you for making me feel so nice again, i’ve been waiting for it for weeks.”

jisung hummed, his thumb running circles on your skin to calm you down. something seemed to be irking at his chest when he heard that and he tilted his head in confusion, wondering exactly which part of it made him feel so. it took him a while to remember your past conversations, the one you two hastily shared when you just summoned him into your room.

“oh, right, you never answered me,” he said. “what took you so long? it has been weeks.”

you opened your eyes then, staring ahead at the space on the wall. you debated whether you wanted to tell jisung about it, a problem that was rooted so deep inside your self-esteem that you thought perhaps he didn’t need to know.

but he was so caring and so careful with you as the aftermath of sex, just being in his embrace right now felt more at home than being within the space you two were in.

your initial worry that maybe he and hyunjin didn’t like you as much as you hoped they would felt almost… idiotic now.

“it’s… it’s a personal problem,” you replied. “i won’t do it again next time. i promise you’ll see me again soon after you leave today.”

jisung frowned. you didn’t exactly smelt of lies, but your tone felt deceiving. there was a reason why you didn’t reveal the reason behind your delay, though, and jisung thought better about questioning it. having you breathe calmly in his arms, vulnerable and naked, was a moment he wouldn’t destroy for the world.

“you promise?” he chuckled. “not gonna make me miss you too much again?”

you bit your lower lip gently, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “you missed me?”

“i think both me and hyunjin did,” he said, shifting a little. “but i definitely missed you more than he did.”

you giggled quietly, nuzzling your head against his chest. “does everything have to be a competition between you both?”

jisung hummed. no, but they liked it that way. and he reckoned hyunjin would want to do something akin to this to you if he knew that this private encounter happened. a short laugh escaped his lips then as he held you against his chest.

he’d like to see hyunjin try.

#skz smut #skz dark hours #stray kids smut #stray kids dark hours #jisung smut #han jisung smut #sorry if this is kinda bad...

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myfearless-love · 3 years

Text

The Wildest Place You Run (5/?) - Not Far Now

I'm sorry for the delay: traveling and vacation made it impossible to post, but in turn, you'll get two chapters this week (including this). This one is a bit shorter, but you'll see why in the next chapter (spoiler alert: too many action).

As always, a huge thank you to my beta and artist @thejollyroger-writer for correcting my mistakes and making kick-ass art for chapters 5 and 6! Check it out above!

Summary:

Vampires, Werewolves, Mages, and Elves. For centuries, they kept their existence a secret, but the constant rebellions against the strict laws of the Guild had led to a terrible tragedy. In an open clash, it became apparent to humans just what kind of monsters lived among them. Emma Swan loses the love of her life in the first battle of the war. A few months later, while still trying to process what happened, a mysterious and terrifying figure worms his way into her life. But the man is hiding far more terrible secrets than he reveals to her, pulling them both into a horrible situation...

Chapter: 5/? - Not Far Now

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Rating: M

Relationships: Killian Jones/Emma Swan

Read on: FF.net or AO3

Words: ~2k

Previous parts:

Ch 1 II Ch 2 II Ch 3 II Ch 4

The next morning she woke up on the couch, curled up, leaning her head on the armrest. Someone, probably August, had covered her with a blanket and left her there. She was used to it, he often disappeared without a word, and he was the only one she couldn't hold it against.

She sat up slowly, and it took her half a minute to discover she was alone.

Again.

She scrambled out from under the quilt and slipped out into the kitchen. Her neck was throbbing, she was cold, and she still felt exhausted despite the few hours of sleep she'd gotten. Her day had started out shitty.

Again.

(There were many recurring things in her life that she would've preferred to avoid.)

As she glanced at the clock to see it was ten in the morning, her eyes caught a yellow note on the fridge, adorned with David's almost illegible scrawl.

I'll be home late. Take care of yourself!

Sighing, she crumpled the paper in her palm and tossed it straight into the bin beside the kitchen counter. She opened the refrigerator and was disappointed to find it contained only a few cans of beer and a slice of moldy cheese.

Furious, she slammed the door and marched up the stairs to change and grab some money. She had to go shopping.

She was already shuddering in apprehension.

Going back outside and among strangers… Great.

She tugged on her black jeans and pulled on a thick, hooded black sweater. Before Neal, she'd never worn flashy or bright colors and after his death, she'd relegated almost all of her more colorful clothes to the back of her closet.

She didn't have much money, being unemployed at the moment. David was supporting her now, which she simply hated. She had been looking for vacancies for a long time, but with her limited experience and lack of a college degree, not to mention the impending apocalypse looming over their heads, her chances of finding something were pretty low. And David was against it anyway; she had no idea why, though, and he never told her the reason. So she had to make do with her limited savings, which was becoming increasingly annoying as David had completely forgotten about the household in the last two months.

She put a small amount of money in her back pocket and her keys in the pockets of her sweater, along with her phone. She put her hair in a ponytail, her curls bouncing with each step she took. She fixed her eyelashes with a swipe of mascara.

She tucked her gun into the waistband of her jeans; after all, one could never know what might happen. She concealed it with her sweater, making it invisible to anyone.

Fog was spreading through the gray streets, the sky covered in black clouds, an ideal time for a short walk through the city center. There were hardly any people on the streets. On weekday mornings, everyone was either at school or at work, with only a few retirees strolling the cobblestone sidewalk.

Emma stuck her hands in the front pockets of her jeans and sketched out her tasks for the day in her head, but the list was pretty short. Shopping was her only agenda today, so she began to think feverishly about what to do with the long hours ahead of her.

She arrived at the tiny little corner store without any plans. She could get everything she needed here. She hated supermarkets.

When she was done shopping, she didn't head home, but to the nearby library. Inspiration came to her somewhere between choosing which can of food to buy. She needed some good books and a quiet place among normal people. Among relatively normal people.

It wasn't five minutes before she was wandering among the bookshelves in the pleasantly heated room, browsing the selection.

No one disturbed her, and at that moment, it felt very good. She continued to hunt for books peacefully, and after a while, she returned to the cashier with a small stack. The young woman behind the counter treated her kindly like she did anyone else, and that was a really strange feeling. Strange, but heartwarming. Maybe she should go out more often and fill out some more job applications. Then she could even live a relatively normal life.

She was already halfway home when her phone started ringing. She rolled her eyes in annoyance and dropped her packed bags on one of the nearby benches. She dug out her phone and looked at the caller ID.

David.

"I'm almost home, I just went shop-"

"Where are you exactly?" he gasped into the phone.

"Near the park on the avenue. Why?" she asked suspiciously. "What is it again?"

Before answering, he repeated her location to someone, then she heard the sound of a door slamming shut. "Elves," came the curt reply. "Dark Elves."

"David, stop talking in riddles!" The icy fingers of fear zigzagged through her spine. She had already had the opportunity to meet with one Dark Elf and she had no desire to repeat the encounter.

"Over the past few months, the Vampires and Werewolves have been plotting against us. They have realized that they cannot defeat us with brute force alone. They've been lurking in the shadows for the last few months, looking for a few allies, and they've found the Dark Elves. Some are already in the city and…" he took a deep breath. "The point is, don't move from where you are now, Emma. Killian will pick you up shortly."

Before she could ask anything, David ended the call. She stared furiously at her phone for a while, then pocketed the device just as it started beeping incessantly. She groaned and fished it out of her pocket again. It seemed she would have to replace it soon, the battery was almost dead, despite it being half full mere moments ago.

But that wasn't the only problem with the device. The signal dropped dangerously, then the thing just shut off altogether. Sultry magic swept through the city. Emma looked up in confusion. Around her, several elderly people pointed to the sky and shook their heads in incomprehension.

Emma looked up as well.

There were almost entirely black clouds floating in the sky, shrouding the entire city in shadows.

So the Elves were really here.

She picked up her bags, slipped her right hand under her sweater, and reached for the handle of her gun. She wouldn't be able to do much against Elves with it, but at least it made her feel a little better. Nervously, she scanned the deserted street. She had never longed this hard for Killian's arrival. Correction, she had never longed for him, period… Until now.

When she thought about it more carefully, she'd never talked to him for more than five minutes. Truth to be told, she hadn't even had the chance. Killian just came and went. He showed up in the most unexpected places, at the most stressful times, and disappeared just as quickly.

Barely a minute later, a black Porsche Panamera stopped in front of her, leaving dark skid marks on the asphalt. She jerked back, startled, and managed to land on her ass in a not very graceful way.

The car door swung open and Killian stared at her, impatiently at first, then noticed her sprawled figure on the ground. A strange smile slid across his face, but she couldn't place why it felt so different. "It's more comfortable in here, lass," he said, patting the seat beside him.

Emma staggered to her feet with an annoyed huff. She considered staining the seat cover with her muddy jeans in retaliation, but she didn't want to be childish. She was about to dust off her clothes as best she could with a tissue when something grabbed her waist and yanked her into the car. The door slammed shut on its own, and Killian stepped on the gas.

"Was that you?" she growled when she finally managed to get herself into a more decent position. At that moment, the seatbelt flew through the air in front of her and snapped into place on the edge of her seat.

"And that too," Killian nodded grimly, focusing on the road.

"Don't you dare do that again! Or at least, warn me next time!"

She really wasn't used to someone practicing magic on her. It wasn't exactly painful or uncomfortable; in fact, the touch of Killian's magic was lukewarm and pleasantly eerie, but it still scared the shit out of her.

"Apologies…"

Finally, she raised her eyes to him, and only now realizing why his previous smile seemed so strange. His face looked completely different. There was not a drop of eyeliner on him, and his stubble was completely gone. He looked so young that way, but she had to admit, she liked his bad boy look better.

Either way, he was a pretty good-looking guy.

And she really needed to stop thinking now.

"What the hell happened?"

"To my face?" he smiled compulsively. "I had to shave because they couldn't stitch up the wound," he replied lightly, as if it was just a usual Thursday for him.

"Wound? Stitch up? But shouldn't you be supposed to heal…?"

Before she could finish her question, Killian turned his face fully toward her. There was a fresh, red scar starting at his temple and extending to the line of his lips.

"Jesus…" she gasped.

The sight of his handsome face disfigured by the scar shocked her greatly.

"Wounds inflicted by Elves don't heal on their own or fast like any other," he shrugged and looked at the road again, but she could see the bitterness in his eyes that she just couldn't place.

She sank as low as she could into the seat, peering at him timidly, then glanced out the window. The city was dark as if it was already night, and she knew for a fact that this was the work of Elves. This way, the vampires could walk around the city without fearing the sunlight.

It was comfortably warm in the car, yet she huddled as a shiver ran through her. She watched the city pass by silently and then she realized…

"Killian, we left the—" she began in alarm, but he seemed perfectly calm.

"We're not going to your house," he replied nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off the road, for which she was very grateful because they were going much faster than allowed.

"Then where?" her eyes widened in shock.

"To the Guild. It's safer there."

"And David? What about him? Where is he now?"

"Calm down, Swan, he'll be there too," he assured her, then gave her an uneasy sideways glance. "It's going to be alright."

Calm down.

It was easy to say but much harder to do. Especially for her, who could get upset over any little thing, no matter how ridiculous.

Despite the low roar of the engine, she could hear the wind outside blowing louder and louder, tearing cruelly at the scrawny branches of the weak trees on the side of the road. Lightning zigzagged through the sky, and the car shook in another gust of wind.

She shuddered in her seat and made herself as small as she could. Only now did she realize what the presence of the Elves meant, and she was scared to death, if she was honest. There had been no example of them interfering in battles on this earth for hundreds of years.

"It's not far now, love, we'll be there soon," Killian encouraged, and she looked up at him again, expressionless, feeling unspeakably miserable.

His face was practically split in two, and he was the one comforting her? She scoffed at herself.

"Okay." She couldn't say anything else, just slumped in her seat and crossed her arms in front of her chest. A shiver ran down her spine, causing goosebumps on her skin, and she felt like her head was being held in a vice. She knew what that meant. She had just enough time to cling to the edge of the seat, and the vision came unstoppable…

#cs ff #captain swan #cssns21 #cssns 2021 #cs fic #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #ouat #once upon a time #ouat ff #killian x emma #captain swan supernatural #my fic #thejollyroger writer #TWPYR #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fanfic

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pedropascalssimp · 3 years

Note

Heyyy, can I request a really angsty Anakin X Female reader with the angst prompts 19 and 20?? Can it be just before Anakin turns so the reader is ruined when he turns but he still cares for her. Thank you 🥰

Yesh you can! Oi this is my first time writing for Anakin Hehehe. Here it is! I hope you like it!

Prompt 19: “I'm leaving” “of course you are, that's all you know to do”

Prompt 20: “did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?”

Warnings: Angst! Sadness! Anakin turning to the dark side. It's short! Possibly horribly written. (I was trying to hurry and get it done and it was spewed out of my mind at 2am so, sorry🙏🥺💕)

Anakin Skywalker x fem reader

whatever Obi-Wan was saying fell to deaf ears, words flying over your head as you simply play with the metal band wrapped around your finger.

You felt the distance between you and your husband, you saw him less and less each pacing day, something you thought was because of the war. You knew he had duties to attend to, he was a general so you knew he was a busy man. But after spending many nights alone in your little apartment, not hearing from him like he had promised you would, you knew it was more than the war keeping him from you. It hurt knowing that somewhere along the way, spending so many days on end away from you, that Anakin had let you go. He hadn't even talked to you in so long, hadn't even let you know if he was alright after returning to your shared home Coruscant after a long period of time. The only thing letting you know he was still alive at all was Obi-Wan.

“Are you alright Y/N?” Obi-Wan spoke more firmly as to grasp your attention. Finally snap out of your sorrowful thoughts and meet the concerned gaze of your friend.

“I'm fine…just, a little stressed is all” you shrug his question off. You weren't fine, you were dying on the inside. Heart slowly being torn apart by the absence of your husband.

The doors to your small apartment slide open, making you and Obi-Wan turn around only to see your husband standing by the now closed door. His blue eyes holding a look you couldn't quite place as they fell on you for the first time in what felt like years. The once loving lively glint in them was replaced with a dark, almost raging look. As if the mere sight of you made his blood boil.

“Anakin, thank the stars you've arrived. I was just telling Y/N here about the —

“Obi-Wan may me and Y/N speak alone?” Anakin never once tore his gaze from you, face displaying no emotion. Lips in a straight line as his usual coy smirk was gone. It concerns you to no end, heart pounding in fear for what's to come.

Nodding ever so politely, Obi-wan bids you goodnight and spares Anakin a small smile on his way out. The doors sliding shut behind the man as you are left alone in the room with Anakin. You stood in the spot you've been standing in since Obi-Wan had come by to discuss something you've already forgotten about, frozen in your place as you suddenly felt like a stranger in his eyes. Anakin slowly walks toward you, hands by his side as his cloak hides them. He only stops when he's directly in front of you, eyes glued to yours.

“It's been a while since we've talked…” Anakin breaks the unbearable silence, voice as soft as you remembered.

You offer him a small smile, the same innocence showing in it that he found entrancing. One of many things he ever loved about you. “It's been forever since I've even seen you” you whisper as tears fill your eyes, a mix of happiness and fear swimming in your eyes.

“I know, it's been hard for me…” he trailed off as a look of conflict shows in the blue eyes you adore. Tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looks to the wall in thought.

“Hard for you!? Ani I've been trying to send you transmissions! Every time I catch a glimpse of you it's as if you run from me. It's been hard on me!” you exclaim as you blink the tears away, voice cracking as you swallow the lump in your throat. You knew that his position in this war left him rather stressed, but that was no excuse for him being so neglectful towards you, his wife.

“Well I'd like to see you contribute to this war! All you do is sit here all day long! While I'm out there trying to at least make progress in this mess!” he raised his voice as anger rolled off of him, something Anakin has never directed towards you before.

His words hurt you, but that doesn't stop you from walking closer to him, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek like you've yearned to do for so long, but he backs away with a clenched jaw. This breaks your heart into a million pieces, chest tight with pain. “Anakin…I didn't mean —

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand, sighing with a shake of his head, frustrated with you obviously. “I'm leaving” he said while looking back into your eyes, the seriousness in them enough to shoot right through your heart. The meaning behind them far more than a "I'm leaving to cool off" kind of leaving, but rather him leaving you… forever possibly.

“Of course you are, that's all you know to do” you huff out as tears fall from your eyes now, he always turns his back on you whenever something like this happens. Leaving you alone to drown in this sorrow, the pain of this failing marriage. You honestly saw a future with him, children… Anakin painted a picture in your head that allowed you to think he would run away with you, give you a family as you grow old together on some backwater planet. Of course though, that was just a dream.

“At least I'm doing something” he growls out as he turns his back on you, going to walk out the door. But your small desperate voice stops him.

“did it mean anything to you? Did I mean anything to you?” you sounded broken, voice barely above a whisper as you cry freely. Not caring if your sobs are loud, not caring if someone hears them. But they send hurt spiraling straight into Anakin, breaking his heart. He would ask you to join him, walk by his side through it all. But he couldn't, he couldn't watch you succumb to the darkness as he had…. You were far too innocent and sweet to be brought down this path.

He looks over his shoulder at you, hair falling in front of the scar on his eye. “If I said yes, would you believe me?” he muttered, looking down at his feet. You managed to let a dry laugh slip past your lips, for you knew that nothing could stop him from leaving you now. You saw the way his blue eyes were tented with darkness, the look of a Sith overtaking.

Did you believe him? The part of you that has known him for years thought yes, but the pained, broken part of you thought that perhaps you never stood a chance with the Jedi before you. “I don't know what to believe in anymore Ani” you muttered while slowly sitting on the floor, watching him slip from your fingers like sand. “I love you” it slipped out in a cry, eyes closed as you finally broke down.

It tore his heart in pieces, making this hard for him. But his mind was already made, his path chosen as he would walk it alone. He didn't have the heart to say it back, he didn't want to give you hope that he could stay. So he left, leaving you alone for the last time.

It had broken him far worse than he let on, but when he heard your screams of agony, it only fueled his rage and made him storm away faster. Leaving behind his heart as he took yours with him.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x you #anakin x female reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker angst #star wars imagine #star wars

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wlntrsldler · 4 years

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unrequited (draco malfoy/ cedric diggory series)

PROMPT: You and Cedric grew up together. After the tragedy of the Triwizard Tournament, you’re left feeling empty without your best friend. Draco Malfoy steps into the picture. Will the feelings be reciprocated? Or will it be unrequited?

WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, fluff, sadness???

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader and cedric diggory x reader; hufflepuff reader

WC: 2.2K

UNREQUITED MASTERLIST

PART 3

“Y/N!”

You heard the twins’ cheery voices from across the hall. You looked up to see their grinning faces, completely unbothered by the fact that they got themselves two weeks worth of detention with Umbridge. Fred and George happily made their way over to the bench where you sat by yourself.

“Hello, boys,” You smiled, eyes darting to the red scars on the top of their hands. “What happened to you two?”

“Umbridge.” They grunted, wincing in pain as their open scars oozed small droplets of blood. “She’s brutal.”

“Well, now I feel horrible.” You frowned, examining their hands. “I should be going through this with you.”

“Nonsense.” Fred hushed.

“Our job is to make you smile.” George stated. “Bringing you down with us is quite the opposite of that.”

“Your job?” You questioned, confused by their choice of words. “I appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think my happiness should be your job. You two should be taking care of yourselves.”

“Yeah but we never break a promise.”

A puzzled look took over your face, unsure of what they were talking about. Before you could ask them about it, they said their goodbyes and left you alone once again. You sighed, returning to the comfort of your book. The whispers haven’t stopped. In fact, they haven’t slowed down from the time you’ve arrived at Hogwarts. Granted that it's only been a day, but you would think that Wizards and Witches would find comfort in other things rather than the loneliness of a half-blood Hufflepuff.

You continued to ignore their words and their constant need to tiptoe around you. They feared you. It was like they were afraid of you now that you were alone. Cedric always was the more popular one. Outgoing by nature and easy on the eyes. You remembered the attention he got once he was chosen to be a champion and the envious eyes of every girl who saw you beside him at all times. Envious eyes followed you as you entered the Yule Ball with him, hand in hand, with an irreplaceable smile etched on your face.

You never once thought that you’d miss those envious eyes but right now, you’d much rather take those over their eyes of pity.

You closed your book, stuffing it in your book bag, before getting up to wander around the castle. Although you’ve attended Hogwarts for years, you seemed to not know your way around. You always relied on Cedric to take you from one place to another, never once imagining that there’d be a day where he wouldn’t be two steps ahead of you.

You heard a soft humming coming from the girls’ lavatory, one that you didn’t even know existed. You followed the voice, ignoring the signs saying that it was out of order. You peeked around and saw a ghost, a girl, twirling in the air all by herself. Had it been any other day, you would’ve ran away in fear that you’ve angered the ghost, but something about her pigtails and sweet voice assured you that you’d be alright.

The lavatory was empty, hollow almost. It was unused and not cared for in the slightest.. Had it not been for the ghost, it would’ve been deprived of any sign of life. The air was chilly, a lot colder than the halls that led up to it. And it was so quiet. The silence was eerie. You could no longer hear the chatter from students just a few meters away. It was like the sounds bounced off the walls.

“Hello,” You greeted, stepping out from behind the wall. “That’s a lovely tune.”

She turned around, stunned, but it subsided once she took a look at you. “Why, hello there. Thank you, a friend of mine taught me the song. What brings you here?”

“Just wandering,” You shrugged. You motioned to the empty lavatory. “May I join you?”

“Of course,” She smiled, floating down towards you. “Are you wandering because you’re lonely?”

You blinked a few times, taken back by her question. You pondered for a moment, deciding if you should lie to her as you’ve been lying to everyone else who asked you about your well-being. You decided not to lie, not really seeing any consequences of being truthful to a ghost. “Yes, how did you know?”

“A lot of lonely souls find their way to me.” She responded nonchalantly. “My name is Myrtle.”

“Nice to meet you.” You nodded, realizing that she was the ghost everyone mentioned. You didn’t think that the rumors were true, but now that you’ve met her, you didn’t mind it. “My name is Y/N.”

Myrtle grinned, eyes lighting up at your name. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, but nodded anyway. How did she know who you were? “Yes, that’s me.”

Her bubbly laugh filled the silence of the room. She twirled in the air, excitement evident in her actions. “You’re Cedric’s friend!”

“You know Cedric?”

“We met once.”

“May I ask how?”

She giggled like a schoolgirl, blushing behind the hand she used to cover her mouth. “I helped him with the golden egg.”

Your voice faltered. “I see.”

“Oh my,” She frowned. “I seem to have forgotten. I apologize.”

“It’s quite alright, Myrtle.” You gulped, blinking back tears.

“Hmm,” Myrtle mumbled. “He talked about you the entire time. By the end of it all, I became so excited to meet you. I made him promise that he’d let me meet you if I helped him figure out the clue.”

You smiled a bit at her confession, knowing that Cedric would’ve taken you to meet her if fate hadn’t taken him so soon. “I’m sorry that he’s broken his promise.”

“You seemed to find your way here anyway.”

You sat beside Hermione at the Gryffindor table, trying to focus on their smiles rather than the jabber around you: “She’s a Hufflepuff, why is she sitting here?” “I guess that’s what happens when you’ve only got one friend.” “Poor girl. She lost Cedric and now she’s as lost as ever.”

It’s been a few weeks since your arrival at Hogwarts and you were starting to find your ground again. You started hanging out with the Trio more often, as well as continuing your adventures with the Twins. You’ve slowly started to learn how to live again. The other students, however, have not. It only made it worse that the only friends you did have were from a different house.

Hermione grasped your hand and gave it a little squeeze in appreciation, “I’m glad you’re sitting with us. I was getting scared that you preferred the twins.”

You smiled, “I could never replace you, Hermione.” You motioned towards Harry and Ron, who were gulping down food before they even chewed it, from across the table. “They, however, can be replaced.”

Ron looked up at your words, eyes narrowing, “Hey, that’s not nice.”

“Don’t worry, Ron,” Harry nudged him, not looking up from his pile of food. “She knows she loves us.”

“Sure, Potter. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Hermione couldn’t help but giggle at your silly banter, happy that you're slowly reverting back to your old self. She knew that you’ll never truly be who you once were but the way that you smile at little comments and laugh at stupid jokes makes her feel a bit hopeful. The boys were also relieved to see you sitting with them again. They knew that you left to be by yourself when you first arrived at Hogwarts and they decided that it would be best to leave you alone. They didn’t want to push you or pressure you to hang out with them but in all honesty, they missed you. They missed you terribly.

You continued to talk about nothing for a few minutes before a package landed in front of you. You looked down at it, inspecting the address, and the wrapping parchment. The trio stared at you, urging you to open the it. You obliged and started to rip apart the parchment. Your heart sunk as you saw a familiar yellow fabric under a note from your aunt.

It read: “You forgot this and I saw it in your closet when I was cleaning out your room. I saw it was a bit dirty so I took the liberty of putting it in the wash for you. We love you and we miss you.”

You moved the note aside, taking in a sharp breath when your fingers touched the sweater. You saw that the stain where Cedric’s blood once was, was faded, leaving an ugly orange mark where his initials were embroidered. Your hands shook as you lifted it up to place near your chest. You didn’t realize that she would be going through your things. You weren’t expecting this to show up in front of you.

As you choked on your sobs, you heard the whispers start up again, but this time they were all jumbled. You didn’t care enough to say anything. You got up, sweater in your hand, and ran out. You heard Ron call out for you, silverware clattering as he tried to follow, but Hermione placed a gentle hand on his arm, reminding him that you process grief differently. You ran towards the path to the secret passageway, shoving past everyone who stood in your way. Once you got there, you froze upon seeing people standing near it. You didn’t want to risk anyone else knowing about it.

Sighing, you made your way to another part of the castle that you’ve grown fond of. As you climbed up the steps, you stared down at the sweater in your arms. It was pathetic how something so small could have such an effect on you. You were aware that death is something of the inevitable. But maybe it was your muggle side that never understood it, how everyone managed to recover from death so quickly. Even Harry who didn’t even know about the Wizard world seemed to recover so fast. You never understood it.

As you neared the astronomy tower, you heard a familiar tune. Someone was there, humming something that you swore you’ve heard before. You looked inside and saw Draco leaning against the railing, staring off into the distance. His robe was swaying in the wind, his fingers tapping against the metal following the rhythm of the tune he was humming.

His expression was unreadable. His eyes were stone cold and his jaw was set. He clenched it ever so slightly. Draco closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling through his nose. He looked almost peaceful up there. The murmur of his chest, the rustling of the winds in the distance, and the soft creaking of the steps were the only things heard.

“Who’s there?”

You flinched, not knowing what excuse you would have to say as to why you spent a good few minutes staring at him in admiration. Mustering up the courage to speak, you revealed yourself to Draco, hiding the sweater behind your back. “Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, not fully turning his body to face you.

“I’m assuming the same as you.” You shrugged, taking his question as an invitation to join him. “Needed to get away.”

“This place is occupied, Hufflepuff.” Draco noted, annoyance laced in his voice. “Find your own place.”

You ignored his comment, planting yourself beside him. He moved a few steps away, irritated by your stubbornness to stay. “I suppose I haven’t said my proper thanks for letting me off the hook with Umbridge that one night.”

“I don’t need your thanks.” He commented, now facing you. His eyes were a bit glossy and his voice was scratchy. It seemed like he’d been crying. “But I do need you to see yourself out.”

Again you ignored him, staring him straight in the eye. “What tune were you humming? It sounded familiar.”

“Y/N.” He said, more sternly this time. “Leave.”

“No.”

Draco sighed, running his fingers through his hair. You noticed that the ring was no longer on his finger. In fact, the only indication that he was a Slytherin was his robe, which was unusual for him. He often liked to wear his house pride in every way possible. You found it quite obnoxious at times.

“Fine,” He finally settled, stepping away from the railings and towards the steps to exit. “Then I’ll leave.”

Before he could take his first step down, you spoke up. “Why didn’t you tell Umbridge about me?”

He paused, hand gripping the sides of the staircase. You heard him gulp. “Don’t question it. It’s annoying.”

“But I want to know.”

“Don’t make me change my mind. I’ll march over to Umbridge right now and tell her that I saw you that night.” Draco turned around, almost spitting his words out.

“Sorry. Nevermind, then.” You cowered a bit, not expecting his harsh tone. You looked down at your feet, embarrassed that a simple change in his tone already made you seem weaker. When you looked back up to look at Draco, you could’ve swore that his face softened for a minute. You stared at him turn back around to leave.

Just as you faced the railings, once again, Draco’s voice echoed across the room. “My mother used to sing that song to me when I was a child.”

“Huh?”

“The song I was humming.” He clarified, head poking out from beyond the steps spiraling down. “My mother used to sing it to me.”

TAGLIST IS OPEN! SEND AN ASK!

@melancholiaflowers @jjjmaybank @marshxx @truly-insatiable @poisoned-pineapple

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter series #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy series #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy imagine #cedric diggory fanfic #cedric diggory #cedric diggory series #cedric diggory imagine #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #unrequited fic #frances writes #hermione granger

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clarkesrifle · 3 years

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Title: The Forgotten Day Pairing: Levi Ackerman x nb!reader Warnings: None, no spoilers Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2.2k Summary: The Survey Corps had no time to remember birthdays -- it was a miracle that anyone knew each other’s name, really. Imagine your surprise when you found a crudely-wrapped item with your name on it on your forgotten day. Ko-Fi | Requests! Notes: Unedited, written when I was lonely.

The Survey Corps had a high turnover rate, as was natural with the profession. How many had died since its establishment? Were any of them remembered, or was all that was left of them was a tiny inscription within the seemingly endless book of those that died in the service to humanity?

Birthdays were unimportant. For some, remembering that comrades were human beings with families, lives, and histories made their duty too difficult. It was decidedly easier to ignore those things. Comrades, at the end of the day, were a means to an end. A partnership doomed to fail. It was easier to forget about them when you didn’t know their important days.

It was hard for you to grasp at the beginning of your tenure. Despite your family’s economic status within the walls and regardless of your experiences with your birthdays, you found it difficult to trust the people around you when you knew so little about them.

Where are you from? Have you seen a titan before? Why did you enlist? Have you killed one before?

Sometimes, it was difficult to discern whether your friendships were born out of genuine care for each other or rather the respect that was necessary to function together as a unit.

Captain Levi had intrigued you from the start -- so many rumors about him lingered throughout the walls. He was a bonafide celebrity and a mysterious one at that. How many families told stories of him? How many children’s nightmares were soothed by the mere mention of his name?

You remembered the first time that you had ever seen him -- the Scouts marched through the quad on horseback, passing through Shiganshina’s marketplace. You crawled on top of the fruit stand’s fabric canopy, feeling it dip underneath your weight. You were so small then, it feels like.

Levi walked his horse into the quad, directly behind Commander Erwin. How could so much strength and resolve lie within such a small body? He didn’t strike you as overtly handsome at first glance. No, your appreciation for his appearance grew slowly over your years wearing your wings.

Admittedly, the years that you did remember your birthday were lamentable. Days off within the corps were few and far between, and when your birthday didn't matter, you couldn’t exactly do anything for it.

Your body felt as though it was about to explode; training only grew more intense the longer that you were enlisted. You supposed this burning pain was worth it -- the Scouts couldn’t risk any more people than necessary, and the best way to prevent deaths was extreme preparedness.

Your squad leader, the infamous Levi, pushed you harder each day. Keeping your cool, both physically and mentally, was difficult whenever he was around. Impressive was the least you could say about your captain.

He seemed peaceful whenever he trained, as though he were relaxing lakeside -- you allowed yourself a quick moment to picture Levi lakeside -- without a care in the world or a titan to slay. It was mesmerizing to watch him use the ODM gear; it was as though he were performing a beautiful and intricate dance.

Much to your chagrin, he ordered you to clean the muck from the stables and care for the hooves of the horses following training, a task that would surely take you hours. Levi, in all of his mysteriousness, was particularly anal about cleanliness.

Being alone with your thoughts was particularly distressing on your birthday. You couldn’t help but wonder about the people you’ve lost -- how many birthdays had they lived? How many more would there have been? Why were you given the privilege to live when they were gone?

For some faces that lived behind your eyes, you regretted not knowing them more. You noticed with anguish that many of those faces lost their sharpness in your memory, the years replacing their features with blurs and blobs.

The moon was rising by the time that you finished your appointed task. Your lower back throbbed, your calves screamed as you climbed the stairs towards your lodging.

Your room was perfectly modest -- only a bed, a dresser, and a desk were provided to you. The pillow was flat; you were not the first nor the last to use it. The blankets were made of a course and itchy material but did its job well enough.

Blinking, you noticed a horribly wrapped item sitting upon your bed. It seemed to be covered with the same paper the captains write correspondence with, tied with twine. Written on it was your name in nearly illegible chicken-scratch, but still, it was your name.

“Um,” you mumbled under your breath. Sitting before the present, you undid the complicated knot with your calloused fingers. Inside lay a book; it was leather-bound, old, possibly expensive. The inside of the wrapping paper had a small note written on it, which read: It's your birthday. Congrats on not getting munched on for another year.

You gasped quietly. It was your first birthday present in years, possibly ever. After the initial shock had worn off, you hungrily opened the book, skimming through pages after pages of incredible drawings, information about a world you'd probably never see.

You flipped back to the beginning, noticing that whoever gave you this gift had left a small note just under the first chapter heading: I keep hearing about the world outside of the walls. Thought you might be interested.

Closing the cover, you held the book tightly to your chest. Thank you, you thought to yourself.

Hearing Armin speak of the sea intrigued Levi. Throughout his life, he had never allowed himself to think of the world beyond the walls. By the time he went on his first expedition outside of them, he could only think about titans.

He had first noticed you upon your entrance to the corps. Erwin had given a rousing yet truthful speech, as he did at every graduation. Levi stood offside the stage, taking in the group of cadets that had stayed.

The Captain had long become used to seeing the fearful faces, the determined faces, the strong, the angry ones. Yours, however, intrigued him.

You looked resigned.

You looked incredibly aware of the sacrifices you would have to make, the people that you would lose. You looked so painfully aware of the trials and tribulations to come. It seemed as though you were the only cadet that understood the reality of being a Scout.

So he pushed you. He knew deep down that he pushed you harder than the others. Levi had even requested you to be apart of his squad. Erwin had looked at him with curiosity at that, only Levi, who could read the man better than anyone else, could see it.

It had been Erwin who had first noticed your feelings for your squad leader. You had been subtle, truthfully, and only a man as detail-oriented as the Commander could see.

He had noticed it after you delivered tea to his chambers, where he, Levi, and Hange were having a meeting to discuss the budget for the next quarter. You had lingered a mere millisecond when you handed Levi his cup, skin grazing against each other so gently. Levi had been surprised at just how much he felt at that slight touch, how much heat erupted on his hands.

You did not stay long after that, wishing Hange a goodnight with a gentle squeeze to her elbow -- Levi was unaware of the friendship that you two had.

Levi glanced at his Commander, who smiled over his teacup, looking pointedly at him. "What?" Levi asked. Erwin shook his head, a low chuckle coming from him. "What?" Levi asked again, impatiently.

"Nothing," Erwin replied, a soft smile gracing his features. "Just don't let yourself get too distracted, Captain."

He refused to elaborate.

Hange was the next to notice. You volunteered your extra time, particularly on your loneliest days, to help her with various experiments. Most of the time, you were on standby, looking out for Erwin. It was very clear to you that these experiments were largely unapproved.

Levi visited Hange's laboratory one day, a ration bar in his pocket. You may not have noticed him slip the bar into your bag's pocket, but Hange surely did.

It had taken plenty of prodding on the scientist's part to get Levi to admit a certain level of care and affection for you. You had been hurt slightly during an expedition. It was nothing serious, and yet the Captain insisted that you stay behind on the following day's adventure. You had fought tooth and nail to convince him otherwise, which landed you a day's worth of paperwork for insubordination. He strategically picked the following day, forcing you to miss the mission to finish the massive pile of work that was needed in a short amount of time.

"Y/N'd just be dead weight," Levi grumbled to Hange after she had cornered him. "I'm not going to babysit someone just because they got hurt and were too stubborn to heal."

Hange scoffed at her shorter friend. "It was only a twisted ankle, y/n was cleared for the mission immediately."

"I'm not going to risk another brat being killed because of a stupid, unhealed injury. That's final." Levi looked below them, taking in the four-meter titan underneath them. Easy.

He triggered his ODM gear, rearing his arms backward and slicing forward at the beast's neck, grinning as the nape fell off of it towards the ground. The titan fell, mouth agape, onto its side. Landing onto a tree limb, he scoured the forest floor for more.

Hange was not far behind. She landed beside him, intent on harassing him until she was satisfied with his answer. He rolled his eyes. Maybe it would have been less of a hassle to keep Y/N in the game. Babysitting didn't seem as awful as being stalked.

He hadn't meant to overhear Armin one night, but the conversation intrigued him. The sea. A forest that not even with fifty gas reserves could he traverse. Small pieces of white, cold fluff falling from the sky like a gentle rain.

A strange warmth built in his chest -- he could picture it all easily, but he couldn't picture any piece of the world without you being there with him. Levi wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He had crashed into an abandoned home after slaying a titan. He needed a moment to refill his gas tanks, and he needed a place under cover to do so.

Levi had landed in a library. Books covered most of the floor, the walls, the tables throughout the room. Besides the dust, the new debris, and the vines growing into the building, it seemed as though life had been suddenly paused and could start again at any moment. Strangely, he felt like he was intruding on something.

He found himself drawn to a book, hidden at the back of a shelf. The books that had once been in front of it had been thrown to the ground in the mad dash to escape the titan-infested city.

The spine of the leather-bound book had a portrait of a snow-capped mountain imprinted into the material. A mountain. He hadn't heard of one before he had overheard Armin that one night.

It had been covered, hidden.

Illegal, he realized. Interest built in his chest, he grabbed the book and flipped through it quickly, looking at the intricate drawings. He thought of you.

Slipping it into his waistband, Levi left the library through the way that he came.

Shamelessly, Levi dug into the records in Erwin's office long after the Commander had retired to bed. Y/N L/N, he read, yanking the file out of the cabinet and searching.

Six months away.

He made a note of it before slipping the file back into the cabinet and pretended he never did anything at all.

In the days leading up to your birthday, he found himself busier than he had expected. He had hoped to wrap the book days in advance, but life never turned out how he wanted or expected. He waited until after training and bought himself time by asking you to clean the stables and care for the horses.

You were just as fastidious as he was when it came to keeping things clean, something he was impressed by and thankful for at this moment.

He hadn't the time to go into town to buy proper wrapping, so he improvised.

Being a soldier was about improvising a bad situation into something better.

Something better was wrapping the book in stationary. "It looks like shit," he mumbled to himself. He attempted to save it by tying it with twine, but he looked out of his bedroom window and saw that you were already heading back towards the barracks.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought to himself. Undignified, he ran up the stairs towards your bedroom -- which he knew was yours based on how pristine it was -- and dropped the book onto your bed without much thought.

The next day, he watched with a rare smile as you read in the mess hall. Happy birthday, brat, he thought to himself. He took a sip of his tea, savoring it.

He wasn't sure if the warmth in his chest was from your appreciation of the gift or the heat of his drink.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #fanfiction #aot #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #fanfic #drabble #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #singeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #snk #snk fic #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic

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batarella · 4 years

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I Don’t Hate You - Part 15 (Jason Todd x Reader)

This is really heavy, folks. Please take note of the warnings. If you recently went through a horrible break-up and/or are sensitive to these kinds of topics, please be warned.

WORDS: 6661 WARNINGS: Heartbreak, Depression, Starvation, Smoking Relapse, Violence, Death

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

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April 23

This was exactly what he thought death would be. Someone like him, who fears it so much, who often goes out of his way to put his life in the kind of danger that renders his still ongoing life a sort of miracle, he always tried to envision what it would be like to cross the other side. Would it be just like being alive? Would you get to meet your loved ones and pass on to some heavenly afterlife? Would he be forgotten? Be nothing but plant compost and worm food for all eternity, yet still be aware of everything going around his rotting corpse?

Or, as he feared the most, would it just be a blank, empty state? A big black blob of nothingness? Is the end really the end? And does it mean he’ll be so consumed in an infinite black hole that eats up everything he’s ever stood to live for?

Because if it were that last one, he definitely was dead. Right now, lying soullessly against the headboard of his bed, legs on his torn-up mattress, eyes still locked onto the same, holed out wall across from him, this was death. This is an entirely new kind of emptiness.

It had been hours since he moved. It was already a good amount into the morning, and his room, or what was left of it, had been lifelessly staring back at him for all the hours he kept himself awake, staring, unmoving. There was practically no sign of a clear surface on the floor. Everything was either covered in broken glass, feathers from his pillows, books, debris, clothes. And the dust particles that had been floating around his room have been in plain sight since the sun started peeking through his broken window. He wasn’t bothered by the light spring cold, and the morning disgusted him.

But he didn’t even give it too much a thought. Emptiness was all there is. Nothing. Not a move. Not a word. He decided this, this darkness so blank that it consumes him, it was better than feeling any other shred of emotion there was. If he were to feel regret, or rage, or disgust, or plunge into that bottomless hole of self-hate and depression, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knew, just as he knew himself, that all those emotions would come crashing down on him once again just like it did last night, and he didn’t have anything much left in his room to destroy to at least have an outlet for it. But he wanted it all to ball up, never mind what happens after. He just wanted to stop feeling entirely.

“Master Jason, you’re late for school-“

Alfred stopped his tracks the moment he peered into his room. He looked at Jason first, looking like an exhausted, miserable mess, then everything else around the room. Alfred might have that idea that whatever his room looked like, it was exactly the same going on in his head. Beyond any sort of repair. Silent. The awkward kind of peace that came out as the aftermath of an extremely destructive quake of the earth no one anticipated.

He heard the butler close the door. Minutes later, he came back and placed a tray of food on a part of his desk that wasn’t so destroyed. Jason didn’t give him a single glance. He let the hours pass. He let himself starve and reach the point of sleepless exhaustion that his eyes were too painful to even move. Every part of his body stung.

With the avoidance of feelings, it came with blocking out all his thoughts as well. He knew damn well that if any image of you resurfaced into his head, that any syllable out of your voice he’d hear, he’ll tear his own scalp out. So no, he didn’t think of you. He didn’t think of anything at all. He didn’t think about how hungry he was, or how cold he was, or how much he needed to sleep. He let it all happen. He made everything stop around him.

This, he was making time stop.

It was him refusing to let the days go on, to let the hours pass, to let life continue as if nothing happened at all. He wanted everything to just stop, give him the time to cope, if he ever does learn to cope, and make everything around him just as empty and silent as he was. And there was no way he’ll go to the window, stare out at the sun and let it mock him with its reluctance to what he wanted.

He let his food go stale, his body ache at the lack of movement, at the pain in his stomach lurching and twisting. He let everything go on just as he wanted it. And the dust particles, the only thing moving around in his room, he wanted them to stop. If it were raining, he’d want that to stop as well. He just wanted everything to be just as unmoving as he was.

The world was never going to do that. It’ll keep moving on. No one is going to care. Nothing in the earth’s forces will care about how he didn’t want his life to go on just yet. It will always move forward. Time will always move forward. And all this will end up being a memory someday.

You will just be a memory. When at one point, he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

He closed his eyes, stopped another thought of you from surging in his head. No. Not yet.

When the sun fell, and his room plunged into darkness yet again, he heard three knocks outside his door.

Bruce. He could tell from how firm his knuckles were.

The lack of reaction must have sent Bruce away. He of all people would know how to leave someone alone when they needed it. At least he had that going.

Another hour later, Alfred came in to replace his food for the third time that day. He hadn’t touched even one of his meals.

Everyone went on with their lives. Bruce. Alfred. The sun. The earth. And when he took in the darkness once again, he knew life was still going on, days continued to pass. There was nothing he could do to make it all halt. It was just him, refusing to let things go.

The more his hunger worsened, his eyes hurting, his body in immense pain, not even his body was willing to pause for him. It was him against everything else. And what was he to do? Fight it?

He couldn’t fight this.

With the heaviest heart, Jason closed his eyes, and he fell asleep.

-----

April 24

He woke up after sleeping practically half the day.

And the emptiness had left. Despite his futile efforts. It had left sometime he was asleep. He couldn’t remember the nightmares he had, but his mattress was soaked with his tears and his chest was in immense pain, and it was shooting out to his limbs. His head was basically a rock he had to lunge around. Another meal was waiting for him at the table. And he still hadn’t eaten in two days. Everything around him hurt. His head, his chest, his stomach.

You, your face, everything about you, more than a year’s worth of memories, it all came to him. He no longer had the strength to enjoy the emptiness, to pretend any thoughts of you weren’t there at all. And now, he’d come to the point of exhaustion where he couldn’t hold back even just the thought of how you once snorted out a piece of your food one time when you had lunch together. He couldn’t stop the images of you laughing uncontrollably in bed when he wouldn’t stop tickling your stomach. Fuck, even just the way you scrunched up your nose, he couldn’t hold it back. they were far too strong, far stronger than he was now. Nothing stopped them.

And his sobs were inevitable. By then, the hours passed when he barely had any type of strength to stop the tears. A lifetime’s worth, most probably, because he couldn’t stop feeling you, seeing you. His mind wanted desperately to punish him for thinking he could possibly stop all this. He could still ignore the hunger, the dehydration, all the pain around his body. Because you, you, this was you trying to punish him for desperately trying to push you into the deepest black holes in his mind where you’d never be able to resurface.

You, placing your arms from behind him that time he thought he wanted to be alone, when in fact just the feel of you, your nose against the nape of his neck, it made everything so infinitely better.

“Your neck smells nice,” you said to him. His once tense muscles softened when he felt you breathe against his skin.

“Stop sniffing me.”

“No.”

You, rubbing your noses together in bed when you did nothing all night but hide under your blankets, turn on the flashlight on your phone and tell the most ridiculous stories until the sun came up.

“You remember those lights that make your room look like space?”

“Yeah?” you thumbed his chin. It was stuffy under the blankets but you hadn’t stopped laughing.

“Imagine that, but under a blanket fort bigger than this.”

“Make that blanket fort for me, Todd. I swear to God, I’ll marry you.”

Jason’s heart jumped, then he grinned so widely at that thought, turning off the flashlight and pulling you to his lips.

You, when you’d playfully wrestle him on the floor and he always ended up winning, pinning you against the ground, tasting the smile on your lips and letting your laughs vibrate through his mouth.

“Jay, will you let me win, for once?”

“No,” he kissed you again, still holding your hands at the sides of your head. Your lips were so soft, and his hand let go of yours and started wandering down to your bra.

You, with your voice. Your beautiful voice, just one of the reasons he fell in love with you so deeply, when he’d ask that you sing to him in your spontaneous car rides and he’d open up the window so everyone could see how unbelievably beautiful you were.

“If we never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets”

Jason had to keep his eyes on the road. He was staring at you way too much. He lowered the car window and you sang even louder. People gave you weird looks, but as long as they saw how beautiful his girlfriend was, nothing mattered.

You, when you got so angry at someone that he’d pull you to the side, hold your shoulders, rub them down with his palms and try to talk you out of it.

“Okay. That’s a time out,” he pulled you aside and let you sit on the stairs. You clenched your jaw, glaring at that person too stupid to cross your way, but you looked up at him and your face softened.

“Fine.”

You sat down, and he sat down with you. He placed his head on your shoulder and held your hand.

You, lying with him naked in bed and letting every inch of your flushed skin stick right up against his. His hands all over you, him moving inside you. Hearing your wonderful cries and moans.

You shivered, holding onto his hair, and he watched your face as you came apart. He could feel your high against him, and fuck, was it the most beautiful thing.

You fell asleep almost instantaneously, and he had you wrapped around his arms.

This. This was him torturing every part of himself for everything that went on. He let everything go through his mind like a fast-moving series of pictures. Every moment. Every single one that was in the back of his mind, some he didn’t even know he remembered, it all came to him so suddenly, like everything with you even before you were his, it was all there. In his head. He underestimated how much he cherished even the littlest things. He never thought he remembered this much about you.

But it was all here, coming to him at the worst time possible. And his cries, audibly sobbing into the mattress, everything hurt so much, nothing could possibly make this stop.

You. You. You. You will always be the best thing that ever happened to him, and the worst mistake of his life.

Because his mind was forcing down into his throat the fact that he was never going to relive all those memories ever again. None of them. Not with you. Not with anyone else.

A part of him he wanted to beat down to the ground looked up at his phone at the side table. The old one. Even with his strongest efforts, he ended up picking up the phone, turning it on.

Your name stared back at him, mocking him that he was always going to be this mindless pit of nothing too weak to do anything about it.

No. It was far too late.

The tears burst out of his eyes when he threw the phone to the other side of the room, shattering it into pieces. The tears never stopped, and once again, it was dark.

Another day passed. Everything was moving on. Except him.

-----

April 25

There were tears again. This time from the pain in his stomach.

It was twisting, pulling so much of his flesh that any move he made physically hurt. He clenched himself in the bed, doing everything he could to suppress the pain. But nothing worked. He buried his face into the sheets and cried. He never once cried from physical pain. And now, without an ounce of strength left in his body, almost everything around him made him bawl his eyes out.

It was probably noon now, because Alfred walked in, holding a new tray of food.

He took one look at Jason and sighed.

“Master Jason, you have to eat.”

He grunted, his hands clutching his stomach. His lips were severely dried out and his skin was extremely pale. Slowly, he craned his head up at Alfred.

“Soup, toast, and eggs. Easy for digestion.”

He turned to the tray. He was so hungry he swore he’ll pass out if he refuses to eat again. His body needed twice the nutrition than the normal person.

“Also, Master Jason. Your school called this morning. You’ll have to come back to class eventually.

“No.”

First thing he’s said in three days.

Alfred bowed slightly at him, then left the room.

He kept staring at the food, calling out to him like it was gripping his chin and luring him in despite the otherwise bland aroma.

Fuck this.

Jason finally stood up from his bed, moved his legs as slightly as he can to hold back the pain, and walked over to where the food was. He smelled like shit, too. But he’ll have to be hauled up by the strongest man alive if they expected him to take a shower right now.

He didn’t take a seat. He didn’t lie on the floor. He stood on his feet, took the bread, took as little bites as he could, drank half the soup, and finished most of the eggs.

His stomach was clenching even more than before, and he leaned against the table, barely holding himself up at all. He was done. He wasn’t eating anymore. All this was hurting far too much.

Jason fell to the floor and he inched himself to lean against the wall.

You’d be disgusted at the sight of him, or laugh at just how much he’d destroyed himself after just three days. You and your endless supply of mean comments and catty remarks would beat up just about everything he still had going on inside him. Fuck, he hated you. He never hated someone so much in his life. He hated what you did to him, as if his life wasn’t already shitty enough. You and your fucking irritating shrieks just had to come in and ruin everything he actually had going on. He never should’ve met you, stayed away from you instead of taking your spice as something to be intrigued about. He should’ve continued to hate you as he initially did when you first met.

He shouldn’t have let it evolve into anything. He only should’ve hated you the past year.

Another knock on the door.

“Master Jason, I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of fixing your phone. All your data is in there. You’ll need it.”

Jason was right by the door, and the old man placed his phone on the table, nodded at him, then left.

It was the newer model, looking unscathed without a single crack on the screen.

He knew he shouldn’t.

Fuck, everything the past two days will be for nothing.

As if he made any kind of progress. He only ate so he wouldn’t die.

He shouldn’t.

But he really wanted to.

He took the phone, unlocked it, and his wallpaper already made him choke.

You and him on the bed, with you biting his cheek and him laughing, smiling at the camera. You wore his hoodie, one of the many hoodies you stole from him, and he had that little crinkle in his eyes that only ever showed up at times when he was truly happy.

He let the hate pull through. He let himself remember all the pain, the unnecessary fighting, all the things he’s always grown to get annoyed at-

Oh, who the fuck was he kidding. He couldn’t hate you even if he tried.

Your flaws were a part of you and it only made him love you more. Nothing irritated him. He could fight with you all day and he’ll do it again the next day. You never once made him wish he wasn’t at your side, never once did you push him to the point where he’d rather do anything else other than laugh and talk endlessly with you, didn’t matter what it was about. He can listen to your angry screams all day and still kiss you like nothing happened.

He scoffed at himself. Like he could succumb to all that in an attempt to forget about you.

He knew he shouldn’t do it. But the part that missed you terribly, the part that always admitted to still being hopelessly in love with you, pushed him to do it. He opened his photo albums.

The first photo was the most recent. When you went to explore an abandoned mansion about fifteen minutes away from Wayne Manor. An old neighbor of the Waynes that had to leave the house from bankruptcy. It was just as large and grandeur, and you both ended up dancing around the old ballroom like goofs. The photo was of you when you were twirling around in a dark grey dress.

The next was of him when you took his phone and started spamming his albums of him asleep. His mouth was open wide, and he was drooling on the pillow. He remembered waking up and wrestling you down on the bed when you got caught.

He swiped more.

You eating across from him on a dinner date. From your birthday. He took you everywhere you wanted. And it lasted all throughout the night, taking you home when it was already morning. Your hair was beautiful, covering half your face when you bashfully looked down. Your lips were a deep red, and you looked gorgeous.

Another of you and him, when you went to the Christmas Market like you did on your first date. You wore a beanie, and he was completely covered up with his scarf. You took that selfie even with your shaking fingers and he remembered laughing when you dropped your own phone, taking a whole minute trying to pick it up from the ground from all the snow around.

Tears had long fell on the side of his face. His heart. Warming up the way it was supposed to be when he was happy. And he was smiling, staring at your face like you were the single more perfect thing in the world.

And you were.

Then he kept swiping, his finger stopping at a picture of you barely having anything on.

He choked on his breath. He knew what else he had saved. He saved copies into a specific album with a passcode locked specifically for nights when he wasn’t with you and was feeling particularly lonely and excited.

Gulping down, he swiped.

Fuck.

Your lips between your teeth.

Swipe.

Your tongue peeking out.

Swipe.

Your naked body on the bed.

Swipe.

Your ass bent over.

Swipe.

Your bare chest.

Swipe.

Your wet, needy p-

He had to fucking stop.

He turned his phone off, then stuffed his face into his hands.

All that. It was only ever going to exist in photos. It was all he’s ever going to have with you now. But your looks, it was just one thing about you he wanted to hold onto. The pictures can't give him the feel of your skin, your lips, your hair. It couldn’t give him your addicting scent when he inhaled into your head. It couldn’t speak out, tell him that you loved him.

And none of that was ever going to come back.

You weren’t coming back.

But, somehow, if the you he had in his arms just months ago were to tell him anything now, you’d tell him to get up, fix his bed. And tomorrow, he’ll get out of his room and go to school.

Jason, focusing on that voice of yours, stood up from the floor, then started to pick his sheets from the ground.

-----

April 26

Never in his three years at the manor did Bruce Wayne, his supposed father, drive him to school all the way down to the gates.

But Bruce must have either felt guilty for only sending Alfred into his room for three days instead of checking on him himself, or just wanted to make sure Jason actually went to class. Probably the latter.

“Call me if you need anything, Jason.”

He got out the car, sighed, and before he closed the door, he managed to nod at Bruce. “Thanks.”

He shut the door, then turned around.

The campus. The sun. The people.

Everything went on as it should. No one gave him a second glance. No one looked just as miserable as he was. This was the world’s way of telling him he really was alone in this, that nothing was ever going to stop for him even if he tried his hardest at stopping the hours from ticking by.

And it was all too bright. Too fast. People were walking at a noticeably faster pace expecting him to move along with them. People were smiling, laughing so hard it echoed throughout the driveway. Some were running, some reading while running. He saw couples hand in hand. He saw teachers walking by. Everything was just the way it was the last time he was here.

His chest started heaving. Everything was too much. And the thought of going into that school and possibly seeing you-

No. He wasn’t doing this. This was bullshit. All of it.

Jason turned the other way from the school, all the way down to a nearby alley at the back of the building. There was a dumpster there, and before he met you, he often went here on days when he wasn’t really feeling it.

He realized it had been almost two years since he last smoked.

Well, that streak ends now.

The darkness in the alleyway somehow gave him a strange, welcoming comfort. This was something he was more used to. And if it meant staying here for the rest of the day, go back to his sulking and sitting and staring into nothing at all the whole day, then so be it.

From a pocket in his bag, he pulled out his box of cigarettes and lighter. He placed one in his mouth, lit it up, then inhaled the deepest breath he could.

Jason leaned against the wall, looking straight up at the sky. Then he breathed out the smoke and watched it disperse into the clearer air. He closed his eyes. He let his lingering thoughts of you subside for just a moment. He let the smoke calm his nerves, calm his head. He let the light spring cold nip at his cheeks.

He finished a single stick in a few minutes, then he started pulling out another.

He still had the whole day here before he could go home. He could walk out of here, go into the city and hang out somewhere else where being caught didn’t mean immediate expulsion. But he knew firsthand that absolutely no one came into this part of the alley. No one who’d reprimand him, to be exact. A janitor caught him once or twice, and all he did was nod at him and be on his way.

This was all the way back when he didn’t have you to console him at his worst. When he didn’t have you. The him before you. And here he was, back to where he started.

Another stick down. He needed another one.

He breathed the smoke out his nostrils. And when he watched the smoke in the air, he could have sworn he saw your face somewhere like corrupted static. But days of endless tears had him run out, most probably for the next few hours. He expected to go back home and cry the whole night away. Fucking hell, this must have been years-worth of tears held back.

Just as he closed his eyes to let the smoke consume him, he heard a voice come in to the alleyway.

“Jason?”

“Shit.” He flinched, fumbling to throw his cigarette on the ground and cover it with his foot.

But it was just Penny.

He rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You're back in school.”

“Sure.”

“Won't you go to class?”

“No.”

He pulled out the last stick he had in his box and lit it up.

“Gonna rat me out now?”

“No. And don’t worry. I know how to keep secrets from faculty.”

Of course, she does. Penny was your friend. Half the shit she’s seen you do would’ve sent you to prison by now.

“The Vice Principal called all your friends to look for you. Even me.”

“Well, you found me. And there’s no way I’m letting you take me to Watson.”

“Actually.” Penny walked over to stand in front of him. “Vice Principal Watson quit her job. She had this whole speech about how much she wanted to help troubled people. The new Vice Principal wants you in his office.”

“I’m not going.”

She turned to the ground.

He wished Penny didn’t grow so silent. He knew there was so much pity behind it, and the last thing he wanted was for anyone to look down on him with pity. She rocked back and forth in her shoes, and with her sweet voice, she spoke.

“I heard what happened.”

Jason turned away from her and breathed out another cloud of smoke. He made sure she didn’t see the look in his eyes. Before he’d fall too weak to stop himself from crying again.

“You okay?”

He took the cigarette off his mouth, holding it between his fingers. “What does it look like?”

Penny sighed. “I’m really sorry-“

“Don’t. Just leave me alone.”

She looked down at her hands.

“You’re exactly like Y/N… You’re both so mean and bossy...”

He rolled his eyes again, shaking his head. He knew she was just trying to help. But the last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone. He might, someday. But right now, he really just wanted to be alone.

And at the mention of your name, he really, really needed to be alone.

“If it means anything, I lied about the Vice Principal asking me to look for you…”

He quirked up a brow. “The fuck you talking about?”

“Y/N asked me…”

He dropped the cigarette in his hand.

Knowing you, you definitely asked Penny to report if he was around. Knowing you, you’d rather sulk up in bed than to be in the same building as him right now.

“Don’t tell her. Please. She told me she’ll kill me if she knew I told you. But you just looked so sad and I-“

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He cleared his throat, watching the clouds above just to keep himself from sinking in too much to his overtaking thoughts.

“I’ll go now. Take care, Jason.”

“Wait.”

He knew he shouldn’t. But he wanted to. He cared too much. Still, despite everything.

“How is she?”

Penny looked at the ground.

“Penny…”

“She told me not to talk to you.”

“Just tell me-“

“She’ll kill me.”

“Just don’t tell her. You’re worried about her, too.”

“I am…”

Penny looked around. No one was around them. She bit her lips and started fiddling with her yellow sundress.

“She hasn’t come to class. She barely eats. She won't talk to anyone, not even her mom. She locks herself in her room and she still hasn’t come out. It’s really bad, Jason. Just this morning, she texted how you were.”

He bit his lips.

Maybe you asked because you wanted to know if he was okay, not just so you could stay away.

He didn’t know what to think. You were unpredictable that way.

And of course, you dealt with this exactly the same way he did. And it worried him. A lot.

“You can tell her I’m not around.”

She shrieked, her feet trembling on the ground. “I can't lie to her again.”

“Fine. Tell her whatever you want.”

Penny nodded. “I will!”

Jason sighed and looked out into the wide open plane next to the school. The grass was green now, unlike that beautiful autumn brown when you and him were standing nearby, hugging after he gave you that Edgar Allan Poe book.

“I hope you’ll do okay, Jason.”

Penny, little happy Penny, then gave him a hug, to which he didn’t return, then started to walk out the alley.

“Penny…”

He was glad they got to be friends overtime, otherwise this would have been too much to ask. Hell, anything would be too much to ask.

But he needed the assurance.

“Take care of her for me, will you?”

She smiled at him, nodded, then walked away.

----- April 27

He knew, deep in the last sane parts of his mind, that this was the worst idea.

For one, it was downright wrong and creepy. You’d murder him if you found out. Not that you probably would find out, but he still hadn’t figured out how you knew about him being Robin. He should be giving you more credit than he actually does. So yeah, this was a bad idea. You’ll never forgive him. Bruce and Alfred will look down on him. The whole world will hate him.

But he’s been meaning to check on you, not just from someone else’s words, but with his own eyes. He really needed to make sure you were okay. That you weren’t hurting yourself too much. And he knew you were hurting yourself. Just like he was. He couldn’t bare the thought of you suffering. Despite it all, despite everything, he loved you all the way to the ends of the farthest stars. The last thing he wanted was for you to never get back on your feet.

And from what he was about to do, what he planned on doing right after this, he was sure seeing your face just one last time would give him some kind of closure.

So he had to do this. For himself. Just once.

Hoodie over his head, hands stuck to his pockets, Jason climbed up the fire escape on the building across your apartment and crouched over the rooftop ledge.

He peered over and found your room, the window wide open, and he could see inside. He could see you.

You…

Jason bit back his tears.

He was basically doing this to hurt himself. And seeing you like this, it was the kind of hurt he wouldn’t wish onto this worst enemies.

Your room looked just about as wrecked as his. Clothes, books, and other things all over the floor as well. Only your bed wasn’t completely destroyed. He could only see so much, but he could see enough.

You were asleep, lying on the bed without a blanket. You were crouched over, hugging yourself. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you were stuffing your face into a pillow. Your body looked limp and lifeless, but he could see your back slowly rising to your breaths. You looked cold.

And broken…

Even from standing so far, he could tell you were crying even in your sleep. He knew the details on your face enough, memorized them to the point where he could tell what you were thinking just from looking at you. And you looked hurt, so hurt to the point where it was hurting him back.

He felt tears incoming, and he closed his eyes, letting them seep through.

So desperately he wanted to climb to your room, pull your blanket over you and make sure you weren’t cold.

And, if the stars aligned, you’ll wake up, see him, hold him, kiss him, and this whole nightmare would be over.

But he hurt you too much…

He was going to hurt you again if he did that.

Eyes watching you so longingly for hours on end, Jason felt every bit of his heart break, even more than he thought it already had. His lips were trembling, eyes shaking, his hands were sweating off his palms. Every beat in his chest hurt. This was finishing up what was already so broken.

He wanted you to be okay, to live the life you deserved.

He wanted you to go to College of the Arts, be the most talented singer there was, the singer he knew you were, and blow everyone away with your incredible talent. He wanted you to be so successful that you’ll never once look back to how it was to be if he and you lasted. He wanted you to have that family you always wanted, grow to be so old you wouldn’t be able to walk, but still have enough sass in you to have the mind you had right now. He wanted you to be so happy that you’ll never have to remember him, wishing things were different.

He wanted everything for you…

Even if it meant it wouldn’t be with him…

So now, this is how he’s going to be. He’ll watch you from afar, take care of you in all the ways you didn’t know. You’ll hate him for that. And you’ll drive him away for sure. But this is the only way he’ll be able to cope. He’ll always be there. Watch you. Be far enough away to stay out of your life, but close enough to make sure that life was what you deserved.

It’ll hurt more than anything in the whole world, but eventually, you’re going to find someone else, someone to repair what he left so broken, and make you so happy that you’ll wish you never met him. He’ll have to watch you hold someone else’s hand, kiss their lips, hold them in your arms just as you did with him.

He’ll have to watch you marry someone else. Spend the rest of your life with them the way he always wanted with you.

And… as much as it stung, he wished that for you. He wanted that for you.

But he’ll be there for you. No matter what. He always will.

“I love you…”

He knew you’d never hear him, but he still wanted to say it while he was looking at you. And he pretended to hear it back from your sweet, perfect lips.

Jason looked away, wiped the last of his tears with his sleeves and focused on the ground before his heart would continue to break even more.

Now, he had something else to do.

Now, there was nothing holding him back.

Not Bruce. Not you.

Nothing was going to stop him now.

Jason pulled out a black domino mask from his pocket. He stared back into the white eyes, feeling it mold into his hand. It slowly started to rain, and the droplets started seeping through his clothes.

It wasn’t much about you as it was about him. And now, he might as well take advantage of this deep, angry hurt and bring something good out of it.

He’ll have to run away from home after this. He was sure of it. Bruce would never take him back in.

Not after he kills. Intentionally this time.

So, with all the strength he’d mustered up,

Jason put on the mask, took his hoodie and jeans off and let his cape flow from his shoulders to the ground.

Robin saw the light of the moon just one last time.

----

“Thirty-six…”

“Thirty-seven…”

“Thirty-eight…”

“Thirty-nine….”

“FORTY!!!”

His eyes were too swollen for him to see anything in front of him at this point.

“Sixty-two…”

A tooth fell out. That was the third one that night.

“Ninety-seven…”

Killing the clown. By himself. Who was he kidding?

“One hundred twenty-five…”

His laughter. His horrible, horrible voice.

The crowbar hit the side of his head and everything went black for the shortest moment.

“Don’t die on me just yet, boy wonder…”

His demonic, pale face, blood red mouth and dark eyes. The monster took him by the face, and Robin spat at him.

Another hit to the ribs. All of them would have been broken by now.

He coughed out blood and stayed as still as he could, drowning everything around him. But each time the crowbar snapped at his bones, he ended up tasting more of his blood.

Why can't he just die? Why isn’t his body giving out yet?

Almost two hundred hits, then Joker stopped.

“Well, I’m bored…” He threw the crowbar to the floor. “I have to give it to you, Robin, you pack quite the fight- HAHAHAHAHAHA!“

He no longer heard what he said. He just felt every bone in his body break and his breath being stopped by his own blood clogging his throat and nose.

He heard the door of the warehouse close shut.

Robin, shaking on the floor, looked up and around him.

His communicator. It was thrown just a few yards away.

He inched on the floor, so slowly that each movement he made broke yet another bone in his leg and arms. But he kept going. He kept his eyes on the tiny earpiece, his hands still tied together.

And when he got to it, he placed it on his head, flinching at the broken bones in his ear being pressed on.

“S-send coordinates to B-Batman…”

He laid on the floor, his ribs tearing at his flesh every time he breathed.

He was going to die.

A beeping sound.

He looked to his left.

A bomb.

His worst fears. Worse than he could ever have imagined.

He was going to die.

He swallowed, eyes on the painful white light in the ceiling.

“Record v-voice message to Y/N…”

He heard his communicator click.

The beeping, it was getting faster.

“Y/N…” he whispered.

“I-“

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

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everyartistwas-firstanamateur @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive @lucy-roo roseangel013bf @ loxbbg reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

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