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crossbowking · 3 years

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More Than Anything (Part 2)

(Click HERE to read More Than Anything Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader’s feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: “I’d love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?” - @pulplorrd

A/N: See, you'd think I would've learned after making you guys wait a year and a half for No Way Out Part 2, that I should probably FINISH my stories before actually posting the first part...yet, here we are, one month later lol I'm sorry for the wait but hopefully it's worth it!

Happy reading and let me know what you think :)

xx Jess

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Previously...

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

Now...

When the world ended, you’d accepted the idea of death — your death, specifically.

You knew that one day, your life would undoubtedly end — most likely at the hands of the dead, ripped to pieces, torn to shreds, the way so many others before you had been taken. But you’d always hoped your death would at least mean something — maybe laying your life on the line, sacrificing yourself so the people you loved could survive.

Something noble, something brave.

Not like this.

Before the fall, you’d managed to inhale a sharp breath — though once you’d submerged into the grimy pool water, the coldness, the darkness, the shock of it all, had zapped the air right out of your body. You were becoming increasingly aware of the tightness in your chest, the burning in your lungs as you struggled against the walker pressed against you, its weight sinking you further into the depths of the pool.

Then, the panic set in — your heart pounded against your ribcage, right alongside the immense pressure crushing your lungs. Glimpses of sunlight hung just above you, peeking through parts of the drifting tarp you frantically attempted to push aside. You were completely disoriented, your vision obscured by the murkiness surrounding you, floating specks only visible beneath the shattered light above.

When your back connected against the bottom of the deep end, you managed to wriggle out from under the dead’s listless body — though the tarp remained twisted around your limbs. No matter how hard you fought, how hard you struggled, you couldn’t free yourself from the suffocating material. You could’ve sworn you were caught in a dream, your movements lagging and sluggish as you thrashed beneath the surface.

It felt as though someone had reached their hand directly through the center of your chest, squeezing your insides in a vice-like grip. A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, settling atop your churning stomach as the throbbing behind your ears began to slow.

You were listening to your last heartbeats.

It became unbearable, the water threatening to force its way past your clamped lips, the simple need to breathe. A sharp stab of pain shot through you as the blackness in your vision intensified, pulsing reddish-white around the edges as the fire in your chest consumed you at last.

Then, with nothing else left to do, you inhaled.

You weren’t sure what happened next — everything felt faint and fuzzy and quiet. The darkness that lingered no longer struck fear in you — instead, it was warm, enveloping you in its arms like a long-lost lover. The silence was soothing as you drifted in the emptiness, like careless whispers and forgotten melodies. You were weightless, you were freed, you were everything and nothing all at once.

You were dying.

That you were sure of.

Yet much to your surprise, you weren’t afraid — no, instead…you felt at peace.

But the brevity of calm didn’t last as you were suddenly aware of a vague pressure, though it wasn’t all-consuming nor constant. It was distant at first, a feeling you could’ve easily brushed aside had it not begun to gradually grow in force, in vigor — a steady pounding, coming from the center of your chest, over and over again.

The warmth around you began to splinter, shattering like shards of glass, the fallout piercing your skin as it collapsed around you. The pain was deep and burning and you longed for just a moment ago when all you felt was the sweetness of oblivion. The pressure pounding against your chest increased, becoming the sole thing you could feel, the only thing you could focus on, the unwavering thuds drawing you back from whatever place you’d drifted off to.

In the next moment, you were awake.

Your body flailed, jolting upright, but you’d only managed to get an inch or two off the ground before water began to suddenly spurt from your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as you choked on the liquid, every nerve ending in your body red-hot. You were vaguely aware of hands, rough and calloused and familiar, gripping onto your arms and forcing you onto your side, the motion allowing the water leaving your lungs to flow easier.

You gasped a constricted breath, coughing harshly on the exhale, completely and entirely disoriented as to what in the fuck just happened. Your chest tightened as you spit up more water, your throat closing around the sensation as you fought for control of your breathing, the feeling of concrete against the side of your body grounding you.

When your coughs finally died down, the same hands from before grabbed onto your arms, pulling your deadweight upright, maneuvering your limp body as if you were a rag doll. You blinked your bleary eyes open, wincing from the sunlight directly above as you drew in shaky breaths.

And then you saw him.

Daryl knelt in front of you, his ragged breathing mirroring your own, soaking wet from head to toe. Strands of hair stuck against his forehead, droplets of water still dripping from the ends as he stared at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of horror and shock — something you rarely witnessed when it came to the archer.

He was mouthing something — no, he was shouting something — but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear a damn word he was saying as you sat there, dazed and confused, wondering if what just happened actually happened.

His hold around your arms slipped away, his hands cradling either side of your face instead, tilting your head up and brushing your drenched hair back. He leaned forward a fraction, frantically studying your features, his haunted eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as though making sure you were there — really there.

The silence was becoming a little less resounding, the world around you gradually seeping back, though muffled and dull — but the way Daryl was looking at you, the apprehension in his gaze, shook something loose inside you. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to tell him it was okay — that you were okay — but damn it, why couldn’t you speak?

So instead, you slowly lifted your hands, weakly grasping onto Daryl’s wrists, the small motion all you could muster — you had to let him know you were here. He glanced down at your hands, a small huff of relief escaping him.

But when he looked back up, you noticed the moisture that’d built in the corners of his eyes.

Daryl’s hands slipped behind your head, holding you still as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours.

You, on the other hand, silently thanked whatever God or higher power was out there for giving you one more moment like this.

When the archer pulled back, you spotted a red streak smeared across his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Your brow knitted together as he sat back on his haunches. You tried clearing your throat, the sensation burning the rawness that’d spread. “You’re —” you croaked, your voice sounding foreign. “— you’re bleeding, D.”

Daryl’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he lowered his gaze and unsheathed his hunting knife. “It ain’t mine,” he rasped, suddenly slicing a long strip of fabric off from the bottom of his dampened shirt and balling it in his fist, ringing out some of the water.

Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching forward, pressing the material gingerly against your forehead and wrapping it behind your head, tying the strip into a knot to keep it in place. You were surprised at the sting of pain you felt, unsure when you managed to cut your head open in the midst of what had happened — everything was still sort of…fuzzy.

The sound of a car door slamming drew your attention. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, spotting Tara jogging towards you, the car you’d driven to the motel running idle in the parking lot.

“They’re coming!” she called out, motioning towards something just behind Daryl.

You craned your neck, attempting to get a look, but before you could, the archer was looping his arms beneath your armpits and hefting you up to your feet. The world tilted unsteadily around you, and had it not been for Daryl’s hold, the ground would’ve surely rushed up to meet you.

“I got ya,” he rasped, slinging one of your arms across his shoulders, his grip snaking around your waist.

Tara appeared at your opposite side, slightly out of breath. “Welcome back, chicka,” she shot you a slightly strained smile before following Daryl’s lead and winding your other arm across her shoulders, keeping you propped upright between them.

You wanted to tell them you were fine, that you were more than capable of walking on your own — but your strength had depleted, your legs shook beneath you, and the shock was beginning to wear off, making all the little aches and pains in your body alarmingly obvious.

Then, you were moving.

They half-dragged, half-carried you across the stretch of concrete, hurrying towards the parking lot where Tara had left the car. You peeked over your shoulder, managing to get a glimpse of what you were leaving behind — the small herd from earlier had been taken down, their bodies splayed out sporadically on the other side of the pool. Some sporting knife wounds, others bullet holes. The pool itself was rippling, the water sloshing back and forth, air bubbles visible at the surface.

Some of the dead had followed you into the water.

Just beyond the pool, you spotted exactly what you were running from — another herd, three times the size of the first one, ambling in from the woods behind the motel, most likely drawn in by gunfire.

When you reached the car, Tara slipped away and jumped into the driver’s seat. Daryl flung open the back door and maneuvered you carefully inside. You grimaced as you inched further into the car, only stopping once your back was pressed up against the opposite door. The archer quickly slid in after you and slammed the door shut, grabbing onto the back of the driver’s seat as Tara peeled out of the parking lot.

The silence that followed rang heavy.

Your heart hammered against your chest, your breaths coming out slightly wheezy, almost like there was still some water left in your lungs. You met Tara’s eyes in the rearview mirror before she focused back on the road — you noticed then that the sleeves of her shirt, up to her elbows, were wet.

She’d helped drag your body out of the pool.

You glanced over at Daryl, the archer’s grip on the driver’s seat white-knuckled as he stared at the back of the headrest. Waves of tension rolled off him, the feeling nearly palpable. But his eyes flickered towards you a moment later, as though he felt you watching him, and some of the rigidity faded.

He wordlessly shuffled closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door you leaned against. You were too tired and too sore to object, your body slumping against his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders — you thought for a brief moment that he was hugging you.

But instead, he wound your seatbelt around your body and locked it in place.

Daryl fell back against the seat beside you with a huff, keeping his gaze focused ahead, staring straight through the windshield. He didn’t look at you again — he remained still, like he was carved from stone. You weren’t even sure he was breathing. His arm just barely grazed the side of yours, but despite whatever hidden turmoil was surely happening inside of him, he made no effort to move away.

He needed time to process what happened — what almost happened.

But so did you.

You shifted, closing the small gap between you and resting your head against his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. The material of his shirt was still damp and smelt like a mixture of chlorine and mildew from the murky pool water, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away either.

You hadn't realized you’d dozed off until the archer gently shook you awake, the car now parked outside Alexandria’s makeshift infirmary.

You still felt weak and lethargic, but you managed to make your way inside without any help — although Daryl, silent and stoic as ever, remained at your side, his hand hovering over the small of your back.

The infirmary was quiet as Denise checked you over — Tara had gone to update Rick and the others on what happened, as well as distribute the supplies you’d managed to bring home. Daryl, on the other hand, paced — back and forth, like a caged animal, on the opposite side of the room. Almost like part of him desperately wanted to run, but a bigger part of himself needed to be there.

“Are you feeling any nausea? Confusion? Loss of basic motor skills?” Denise suddenly asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on, looking up from the textbook she was reading from. She’d never dealt with an ‘almost drowning’, but had been able to scrounge up some old medical textbooks for help.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, shaking your head once. “No. No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s good…” she murmured, mostly to herself, before flipping to the next page and skimming the stretch of words. “Besides your forehead, any other lacerations?” she looked up at you once more, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t —” you shot Daryl a look, but he was too busy pacing to notice. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head again, your fingertips ghosting over the bandage Denise had patched your head up with.

“Good, good. We’ll want to keep an eye on that in case of infection,” she informed before flipping to the next page, mouthing the text to herself. “Okay, and any soreness?”

You grimaced as you sat up a little straighter. “Just — just right here mostly,” you admitted, motioning towards your center, below your chest.

Denise shut the textbook and placed it on the metal table you sat on top of. “Can you show me?”

Your brow knitted together but you obliged, sliding off the table and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You fought back a wince as you rolled the material up, stopping just below your chest, exposing your skin.

The first thing you noticed was the way the room suddenly stilled — you glanced up, spotting Daryl standing frozen across the way, pacing no longer. But he wasn’t staring at you — he was staring at your midsection, a look in his eyes you’d never seen before.

When you lowered your head, getting a good look at yourself for the first time, you realized exactly what he was seeing.

Bruises. Dark and discolored. Scattered down your sternum and along the center of your ribcage.

Your head snapped up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

And Daryl was gone.

You tried to ignore the pinprick of tears that grew, the hurt that settled across your chest as you lowered your shirt back in place — but when Denise suddenly reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, patting it softly, your features crumpled.

Everything that happened seemed to catch up to you in that moment — the fear, the shock, what Daryl must’ve felt pulling your unmoving body out of the water. You’d nearly died. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to bring you back? Would he have been the one to put you down when you undoubtedly turned? Or would Tara have done it — the act far too painful for the man you loved to follow through with.

The man you loved.

Denise wrapped her hand around yours, squeezing gently and drawing you back. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed.

You quickly swiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks, huffing a hitched breath. “I know, I’m just —” you glanced up at the front door, hanging onto the foolish hope that it’d swing open once more. “I don’t know,” you finally mumbled, albeit defeatedly.

Denise followed your gaze, scoffing slightly. “Men suck,” she finally shrugged.

You sniffled softly before shaking your head. “Not that one,” you murmured fondly.

Denise squeezed your hand once more, shooting you a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. “It could’ve been worse — most people who have CPR done on them end up with broken ribs or punctured lungs. You, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.”

You inhaled a deep breath, fighting back a wince, the motion stretching your bruised body. “Thank you. For everything.”

Denise nodded before taking off her glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses. “Y/N, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but,” she paused, sliding her glasses back on as she regarded you seriously. “You smell like a sewer rat.”

You faltered, completely caught off guard by her statement before remembering that you were still wearing damp, swampy, pool water clothes. Then, despite everything, a laugh slipped past your lips, breaking the tension. You let out a hiss as the movement sent a wave of pain through you. “Ow, fuck, don’t make me laugh,” you bit back another chuckle, lightly swatting her arm.

Denise smiled before motioning towards the door. “Go home, shower, get some rest — Doctor’s orders,” she grinned, turning away and beginning to clean up her workstation.

You thanked her again before hobbling out of the infirmary.

As night drew near, most residents of Alexandria were already in their respective homes — you were grateful for that. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, their worry and endless questions something you were more than happy to put off until tomorrow.

When you made it back to the apartment you and Daryl shared, you were, yet again, fighting back feelings of disappointment — he wasn’t home. You felt a pinprick of worry, but knew he needed time and space to process whatever it was he was feeling.

And when he was ready, you would be too.

You walked through the kitchen, the morning you’d shared earlier feeling like a lifetime ago — the pan he’d used to make eggs, now dry, remained sitting on the counter. The bedroom was untouched, looking exactly how it had this morning, just the way you’d left it. You grabbed a fresh set of clothes before making your way into the master bathroom attached, ignoring the bone-deep tiredness settling over you.

Showering was a good call — the warm water rained down as you scrubbed your body of the muck that clung to you, being extra careful not to get the bandage on your head wet or make any sudden movements. When you were finished cleaning up, you stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes, eyes closed, inhaling the steam around you with deep, calming breaths.

You were okay. You were alive. You were here.

You shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried yourself off, gingerly patting down your chest and around your ribs, before slipping into clean clothes. You wiped away some of the steam that’d collected on the bathroom mirror before hanging up your towel, combing out your knotted hair, and brushing your teeth — the same routine you did every night.

The normalcy was soothing — you were already beginning to feel better, more like yourself. You were ready to put what happened behind you and move forward, sure to never take another day for granted.

But when you opened the bathroom door, ready to curl up in bed and doze off, all of your feelings from earlier came rushing back at the sight of Daryl.

Once again, he’d been pacing the length of the bedroom, only stopping after you’d entered the room, his gaze snapping towards you. He shifted his weight back and forth, opening his mouth before clamping it shut. You could feel his energy, rolling off his body in waves — tense, rigid, wild. He was struggling to say whatever was on his mind, only furthering his evident frustration. He flicked his hair away from his eyes, turning to face you head-on, clearly gathering up the gall to speak.

You took a small step forward. “Daryl —”

“Ya were blue,” he suddenly rasped, a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Tara was shoutin’ for ya an’ I — when I went in an’ pulled ya out, there wasn’t — I didn’t —” he huffed a breath in frustration, his face tinged red. “God, damn it, Y/N, ya were fuckin’ blue,” he finally growled, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at his side.

His anger wasn’t directed at you, but the situation itself, you knew that. But still, his words — or more so the emotion, the truth hidden behind them — had you recoiling from him, your heart breaking at the thought of what he’d seen, of what had run through his mind when he realized you weren’t breathing.

You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been.

And that was what was beneath his outburst — not rage, but fear.

But he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say — if anything, he was just getting more and more worked up as he began to frantically pace once more. “This is why — I fuckin’ told ya — I didn’t need ya comin’ out there. I didn’t need ya on that run but ya — ya didn’t listen ta’ me an’ then —”

“I love you.”

Daryl stilled, mid-stride, his gaze widening as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs.

You felt your face flush, the air between you so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the words just sort of…tumbled out? And now, there they were, hanging between you. Part of you wondered if the archer could hear your heart pounding from where he stood — or maybe it was his heartbeat, synched up to yours.

You sputtered a soft breath, shaking your head in disbelief, trying not to panic because the last thing you wanted was for Daryl to look at you the way he was looking at you after telling him you loved him. “I’m —“ you took a breath, regarding him earnestly. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. And I promise — I promise — you do not have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel the same way,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but the noise hitched somewhere in your throat, betraying your words. You grew serious once more. “I just — I couldn’t have another night going by without you knowing. Not after what happened today,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shrugging a shoulder up meekly. “So, I love you — I love you more than anything.”

You weren’t sure what sort of reaction you were expecting from him. But you absolutely refused to acknowledge the tiny part of you that secretly wished he’d swoop you into his arms, pull you close, tell you he loved you too — because that wasn’t Daryl. That wasn’t the type of man he was — and you were okay with that.

Because you hadn’t fallen in love with that type of man.

You’d fallen in love with the man standing shell-shocked in front of you.

You cleared your throat and stepped forward, moving away from the bathroom doorway. “The shower’s all yours,” you murmured, needing to break the uncomfortable silence that carried on.

You sidestepped around his frozen form, ignoring the way your legs shook like jelly beneath you as you made your way towards the bed. You took a seat on the edge of the mattress, keeping your back towards him, staring ahead at the blank wall in front of you instead.

After what felt like forever, the floorboard squeaked beneath the shifting of his weight, his footsteps growing faint as he slowly walked away and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut after him.

You strained your ears, listening for any movement beyond the door he’d disappeared behind — but you heard nothing. It was like you could feel him through the panel of wood between you — you could almost picture him, just standing there, trying to process whatever the hell was going on inside that mind of his.

A moment later, the shower turned on.

And you released the breath you’d been holding.

Exhaustion swept through you, the day’s events wearing you down. You carefully maneuvered yourself into bed, pulling a thin sheet over your body and settling onto your side. Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of the shower lulling you to sleep despite the strange, sort of freedom your admittance had brought you, the feeling buzzing through your veins.

You didn’t regret your vulnerability — he needed to know he was loved, damn it.

When you heard the shower turn off, you snapped your eyes shut. You listened to the archer move about the bathroom until the door finally creaked open. He seemed to be just standing there, and you could’ve sworn you felt him staring at the back of your head as if he was gauging whether or not you were actually asleep. But a moment later, you heard his footsteps padding across the bedroom before the mattress dipped beneath him.

You held your breath, covers drawn to your chin as Daryl shifted in bed, eventually lying down beside you. Another beat of quiet passed, neither of you moving, nor breathing it seemed.

But then suddenly, you heard him speak, so softly you almost missed it. “I know ya ain’t sleepin’,” he rumbled.

The corner of your mouth quirked up — because of course he knew.

You sighed, shifting gingerly onto your back, the sheet pooling at your waist as you looked over at him. He laid on his side, facing you, propped up on his elbow. He was dressed in clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, pushed back out of his face.

He really was rather beautiful.

“Busted,” you smiled, though the archer’s expression remained solemn.

Ever so gently, he reached towards you, his fingertip grazing the material of your shirt, over your ribcage, below your chest, hovering the bruises that lingered. “Does it hurt?” he rasped, the mouth turned downward into a small frown.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

Daryl’s eyes met yours, his expression skeptical and knowing.

You never were a good liar.

“At least you didn’t break a rib?” you offered sheepishly, your lame attempt at a joke falling flat given the current audience.

But when Daryl’s features fell, a flash of what looked like guilt settling over his face, you placed your hand on top of his, resting them against your stomach. “Don’t do that,” you murmured, reading him like a damn book as you rubbed circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

The archer grumbled something indistinct, staring down at your intertwined hands.

Your grip tightened around his. “I mean it,” you spoke, an edge to your voice, only softening when he looked at you instead. “You saved my life, D — that’s it. You can let go of anything else you’re holding onto.”

Daryl’s lip twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, seemingly mulling over your words.

You were sure he’d hang onto whatever unnecessary guilt he carried — because that was just who he was — but eventually, he nodded once and settled down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You were too tired to press the subject further so you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest, winding your arm across his midsection. His arm automatically wrapped around you, his fingertips trailing absently up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like that, melting into the warmth he exuded, the steady pounding of his heartbeat easing you to sleep.

You’d nearly faded away when Daryl suddenly spoke.

“Did ya mean it?” he rumbled, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest. “What ya said before?” he grunted, his hand pausing at the small of your back.

You could’ve imagined it, but you almost felt the slight tremble of his fingertips against your skin.

You slowly pushed up onto your elbow, your faces mere inches apart. You searched his uncertain gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I meant it,” you whispered. “Every damn word.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, as though not entirely believing what you said could be true.

So you leaned forward, closing the remainder of space between you, and pressed your lips gently against his. He returned the kiss, a quiet desperation growing as one hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across your cheek. You broke away from the kiss, brushing his hair back before meeting his lips once more, settling your hand on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch.

When you pulled back, you noticed his skin flush, surely mirroring your own. He looked up at you, slightly breathless, a fondness in his gaze that sent your stomach somersaulting. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Well, alright,” he finally resigned, accepting your answer to his question.

You snorted a breathy laugh, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before burrowing against him. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Daryl’s hold tightened around you, as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of contentment, unsure how many more moments like this you, or anyone else for that matter, had left in this kind of cruel and harrowing world.

But for at least tonight, you could be at peace.

“I love you,” you murmured groggily, beginning to sink deeper into unconsciousness.

Right before sleep came, long after Daryl thought you’d drifted away, you heard him whisper three, simple words.

“More than anythin’.”

Then he pulled you closer and the world dimmed.

A/N: Aw...a happy ending! (I figured I owed ya after putting y'all through Honey & Whiskey lol)

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448 notes · View notes

muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Note

22! angst to fluff pls love ur works <333

THANK YOU SM EVERYONE FOR REQUESTING HOPE YA'LL LIKE IT LOVE YAA !!!!!!

Harry hates one thing, most. That’s silence. Still, Y/N gave him a silent treatment knowing how much it drives him insane. It pinches him in throat in the most sickening way and makes him vicious about their fights more.

She has her reason too. Anyone would have a right to be mad if their boyfriend will be seen going to bars with models and cherry on top it turns out be his ex.

In his defence it was a PR stunt to keep the quietude about his dating life since Y/N and Harry’s relationship is private for Y/N's sake.

“You could’ve atleast told me, tha' you were going with her?” Was all she said. Confusion and insecurities and the images of her glued all over him mocked her in the most brutal way before she was distancing herself away from him.

He did anything in his will to bring her back to him, apologised and tried to shower her in kisses, making her brekkie and staying at home but she kept on pushing him away.

The problem wasn’t him. It was her. She blamed herself. He’s been nothing but so gentle with her and she’s towing him away like a used tissue.

Harry knew Y/N anxiety was always at bay and he didn’t want to worsen it by going public but it was biting him in arse as questions upon questions were thrown at him for past three years.

It's Saturday morning and she appears from the guest room after ages, the sight for sore eyes.

Harry’s eyes that were staring the tiled wall of kitchen flitters towards her and his gaze turns soft when he sees her drowned into one of his lilac sweater (she missed him so much and felt awfully hollow and cold sleeping in the bed that doesn’t smell like him at all; so she did what could comfort her best).

She looks so small and frail as if the demons of the lone bedroom swallowed her whole.

Heavy eyebags digging away the glimmer in her eyes, her cheekbones prominent and the pinkness of her eyes visible telling how much she’s been crying.

He turns expressionless on purpose when she meets his gaze and isn’t what she wanted? Some space to figure her thoughts out – but that polite gesture turned into a silent treatment from Harry’s side this time.

She knows that he’s more of a meanie in this game than her because he’s the one that never let things bottle up, his eyes gives away everything but right now they’re just murk of anger.

“Can we talk?” Her voice dim from crying for days and Harry elevates his shoulders carelessly, wrinkles on his forehead and his frown deep as he shrugs, “Dunno. Realized t’pick y'puppet back, your eminence?” His taunt hits her right in chest and she blinks the moisture in her eyes away looking down at her fingers fumbling with the frays of the hem.

He’s cloaked with sadness and dejection from her misbehaviour.

He’s the most petty when she’s the reason of his agony.

“I hate how much I care about, you.” He spats. Knuckles turning white from his grip around the marble counter and Y/N listens —— because good, she should now she’s out of her own bubble.

“How much I’ve told y'that no-one ‘n damn nothin’ could come between us —-" His tone dripping with malevolence and bitterness it tears Y/N up.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Harry!!” She almost shouts. Shaky fingers contemplating to rip at her hair and her tears now shines at her cheeks, Harry elicits a flak taunting chuckle.

“See you’ve never trusted our love. Can y'fo’ once get outta y’head?” His own eyes glossy and his cheeks flushing rosy from the impact.

“You don’t want to bear what comes with lovin' me, don’t want me to cover up tha’ fo' you and you couldn’t spend a single day without doubting us,” He licks the salt away from his lips and his heart pauses a slow beat when Y/N's lips wobbles -- incoherent blabbers slipping past her swollen lips.

“What d'ya want then!?” The loud snap of his abrasive voice hitches her breath and she sobs out sorrowfully, “I just want you.” He sighs in defeat. Not really pondering over the severity and nuance of his words before speaking.

“Falling in love with you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” That was the last blow for Y/N. She gasps out a cry. Pupils bursting wide and her insides falls sick as the itching goosebumps pin-prickles at her skin.

Everything gets struck for a moment. Harry’s expression matches her as he realizes what damage he has caused and to confirm it a blaring thunder roars through the sky.

Y/N gulps the achy feeling in her throat and just nods silently retreating back through the steps that led her to him and he’s rushing behind her in fret only to get the door to be slammed on his face.

He curses himself. Hitting his forehead into the door frame, that was the lowest and most cheapest fucking insult you could’ve managed to throw her way you dick.

“Y/N. I’m —-...fuck.” He knows that a sorry will be too humiliating for the hurt he has caused her.

While, Y/N sits on the floor at the most corner of the room with her knees bunched up to her chest. His hurtful words rings in her skull and she stuffs her face into her elbow sobbing into it watching the bear Harry won for her in a carnival with doleful blurry vision.

Through his whole life the only decision he regrets is loving me – out of every stupid thing he thinks our love is the most stupidest, what if it's the end? How I'll live without him? It’s impossible.

Forgetting hurts the more than grieving and she’d never be able to do that.

Her toes numbs to tingles and she feels herself drowning somewhere into pitch darkness, her heart lurching ruefully at each knock Harry taps on the door and her stomach burns with acidy sting lungs knotting tight making her gasp for oxygen.

Her panic attack crawling up her body in beasty blood curling gashes and she attempts to shout a plead for Harry but white dots appears at the back of her eyelids tripping her into mountain of floor pillows.

It knocks the vase out and it shatters beside her head, “Y/N! Baby!” Harry pounds at the door and when doesn’t hear a response from her side he’s kicking it open harshly.

The lock unhinges as he rushes inside worrisome and his world shatters when he sees his lovie struggling for a breather, her petite body trembling and shaking with each gasp that bolts her throat more and she nearly begs for him to do something.

He’s falling beside her on the floor and embracing her pliant figure in his gentle hold, “’S okay. ‘S okay.” He croaks out wiping his own tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

He rubs her tummy in soothing circles then trails his clammy palm up her chest and maintains an eye contact with her panicked ones. Her breath shudders when she tries to calm it back and her nails digs into his skin in doing so.

“Doing s'good f'me darling, yeah —-..yeah.” He bobs his head vigorously and assuring-ly stroking his thumb against her soaky cheek tenderly in pacifying motions.

Her breath lulls slowly back into a pattern and she jerks a little while inhaling a nourishing puff, “Take a breath honey, yes princess just like that.” He whispers speckling a tiny kiss to her forehead.

He pushes her up with a firm hand on her hip and into his lap murmuring sweet dottings into her ear, “Squeeze me hand if you could hear me baby.” He just wants to be reassured she’s doing okay –- his face crooked against her pulse point into her throat and she does so giving a weak squish to his fingers.

“Jeez.” He bumps her chin up with his head and touches their temples together – eskimo kissing her nose and her eyelids flutter when he pecks her mouth ever so lightly.

His insides are shaking anxiously from fright and he again hugs her warmly to feel her.

“’M sorry. So sorry lovie' didn’t –-.. didn’t mean to hurt ya, swear moppet was just upset tha’ y’were being so far from me. I love you so much precious ....." He presses his wet lips to the side of her head and buries his nose in her hair -- arms tightening around her waist.

".... and I don’t think lovin' you is stupid. Thinks tha’ ‘s the only best thing I’ve ever done in me life ... could never love anyone like that.” He mumbles cradling her sweaty face into his palms and patches soft kisses all over her face.

She hiccups a whimper. Nose quivering and lip wobbling — letting him kiss her pout and fists the flimsy fabric of his hoodie in her teensy hands compared to him, “’M sorry too. Sorry f'acting childish and not talking to you about it. I’m just scared I’m getting too obsessed with the idea of us and it’ll ruin us pathetically.”

“Wait. Wait woah baby ...” He grabs her gently with shoulders and pulls her back from him, “’S tha’ why you were trying to live off all by yourself?” He asks politely a bit glum she was enduring all of that herself.

When she tries to hide her face out of timidness he hooks his thumb under her chin and highers it up, “Y/N.”

“Thinks you love me so intensely?” She sniffs nodding in agreement and he smiles sweetly.

“Then fuckin' do it silly. Why d'ya think I wouldn’t want that lovlin? I want to be so loved by my sweet baby.” He almost falls back when she slings her arms around the nape of his neck and brings him down for a cuddle.

“I love you so much my Angel.” He murmurs with his face squished into her neck and fills his lungs with her warm vanillay scent.

She rubs her cheek up and down his chest like an affectionate starved puppy then stops where his heart lays under the trap of bones and kisses it three times.

Her love language. When she isn’t able to utter something she’s always appreciating him with loving actions and at the moment she did the same to exchange the sentiment.

Three kisses to heart means, “I love you so much it aches me.” He immediately catches it and pecks her nose.

"I know bub, I know."

#HARRY STYLES ANGST #harry styles angst.#harry styles angsty imagines #harry styles angsty blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry angst #fluff #harry styles one shots #cute harry #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles fanfic

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xenia-cenia · 3 years

Text

Xiao x Fem!Reader - Fall

A/N-I’m back and finally writing the scene I’ve planned for him for weeks, shoutout to riko on youtube for making genshin playlists which are carrying my motivation

You guys: please xenia make the characters have happier backstories

Me: haha traumatic childhoods go brrrr

Trigger/Content Warnings: implied suicidal thoughts, spider mention, kidnapping, trauma, death of minor characters

Word Count: 1,669

Request: No

Summary: flying love confession but more dramatic this time

Stars fell from the sky and landed in his palm. His eyes glimmered in the infinite darkness. How long has he been in this void, the only light being the falling stars? The only sound being death thralls and screams for help?

Xiao was tired.

He wanted to be better, but he was tired.

Stars fell from the sky and struck through his ribs. They ripped his heart in two and pierced his lungs. Xiao was tired.

Xiao was tired.

He wanted to shut his eyes and see all of his friends again, to apologize to the lives he stole and hold himself tightly. He wanted to save himself. He wanted to be better.

Xiao wanted to sleep.

Stars fall from the sky and land in his hand. For the first time in centuries, he holds them to his eye and gazes into their lives. It was to satisfy his curiosity. A quick peek into them, then he’ll never look again. He promised himself this a million times.

Stars fall from the sky and show him something beautiful. Lights, cheers, and smiles. Xiao was tired. Xiao wanted to be better. Xiao wanted to be in the stars. He wanted to hold the stars and keep them safe.

Stars fall from his hands and shatter against the ground.

Xiao was tired.

“XIAO!” A panicked voice drew Xiao from his thoughts. How long has he been standing at this balcony? The sun had long since set. He gave himself half a second to think it over before grabbing his polearm and heading to the scared person.

He burst through the door, heavy breaths filling his chest as he surveyed the room. “(Y/N)?” Xiao called into the seemingly empty room.

“X-Xiao!” Your muffled voice came from under a blanket. You flipped the sheets down and looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes he’d ever seen, “There’s a... a spider.”

His shoulders relaxed and he sighed, “Where?” With a shaky finger, you pointed on the ground by Xiao's foot. Without a second of hesitation, he stomped on it and turned to leave, “Mortals fear the most common of things...”

“Wait!” You called. “Xiao!”

“What is it now?”

“I’m kinda freaked out...” You twiddled your thumbs over the blanket, “Can I sit with you on the balcony?”

Xiao grunted in response, stepping out of the way and holding the door open for you with an expectant yet frustrated look on his face. “I don’t want to talk.”

“That’s fine.” You nervously smiled and followed him onto the balcony. He walked to the edge and leaned on the railing, his eyes slightly widening as he gazed at the stars.

You followed loosely behind, always being sure to keep distance, and looked at the pools of water below Wangshu Inn. Twirls of water lapping against the shores, flickering flames fading into the sand, a serene peacefulness as you gazed into a world you’d never know.

Cool winds grazed your face, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Stop.”

“What?” You opened your eyes when you heard Xiao's stern voice, his eyes were half-closed with a glint of anger, it wasn’t until you felt the railing biting into your ribs that you knew what was happening.

“If you keep leaning like that, you’ll fall. And you can’t rely on me to catch you.”

You straightened your posture and sighed, “I’m sorry, I-”

He grunted and turned back to the stars. With a slight tilt of your head, you could almost imagine how many stars the adepti has seen through his life. Hundreds? Thousands? Did they shine brilliantly in his memory, or were they dimmed like todays were?

“Do you think the stars listen?” You asked without thinking.

He left his hand on the railing and turned to you, confusion lacing his expression, “What are you talking about?”

You paid his silent judgment no mind and continued, “The stars. Do you think they hear us? When we wish and cry and pray, do they listen?”

“The stars don’t listen, adepti do.”

A sad smile flickered on your lips as you reached your fingers towards the stars, “You’ve always been so hard to talk to, Xiao.”

“Don’t talk like you know me.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just want to blabber, honestly. Do you mind listening?”

He grunted softly, “Mortals and their...” he sighed, “Fine.”

You gripped the railing and took a deep breath, “When I was a kid, I was always terrified of the adepti.” You laughed uncomfortably as Xiao stiffened, “I know it’s not... well, it’s not what you really want to hear, is it? I wouldn’t want to hear that. But, I remember I was, ahhh, 12? 13? I was young. I was very young when it happened.”

Xiao turned away from you, his fingers digging into his arms as he bit his lip.

“I was taken hostage. I don’t remember most of it. But, I... I remember when they took me.” Your voice quivered, “They killed my parents in front of me. It was my fault, y’know. My parents were already unconscious and if I came willingly, they would have survived. I have no family left, and part of me is thankful. I don’t think I could look any of them in the eyes and explain what happened that night. How their baby girl killed them.”

“Did you turn the blade on them?”

“Xiao, I-”

“Did you turn the blade on them? If not, it wasn’t your fault. You said yourself, you were a child. Would you blame a child for the failings of adults?”

“...no.”

“Then why are you blaming yourself?”

You sighed, “Xiao, you’re a... you’re a really nice guy.”

He flinched, “You should sleep. Mortals have weaker bodies.”

“O... okay. Goodnight, Xiao.” You called after him as he walked away. After he left your eyesight, you looked back towards the water, sighed, and went to bed.

You spent hours tossing and turning in your bed. In frustration, you leaped out of bed and walked down Wangshu Inn, stopping only at the shoreline so you could dip your toes in the water and relax.

With the splashing waves and your pounding heart, you couldn’t hear the footsteps crunch on the sand behind you. You hadn’t had the time to process what was happening until you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Dripping water.

Flickering candles.

Harsh wind.

You opened your bleary eyes and pulled yourself up. Where were you? What happened? The room you woke up in was small, with one bed, a door, and a window. With shaky steps, you walked to the door and pulled.

A sharp blast of electricity ran through your palms, you recoiled in pain and took a step backward as tears began to blot your vision. With an angry growl, you glared at the door and stumbled over to the window.

You felt your eyes widen as you looked down. Miles of bricks and dirt leading to ground you couldn’t see.

The door behind you opened, you spun and saw a woman with white hair and piercing blue eyes. She looked you up and down, her eyes scanning you in a way that gave you chills, and smiled sweetly.

“Welcome, dear.”

“Wh...what?”

“Do you know how hard you are to track down? Years and you seem to escape our grasp each time. It’s quite tiring, dear, I was just about ready to give up.”

“Years?” You echoed in a breathy voice.

“Years.” She confirmed. “Truly, I don’t know why we keep going after you. But the Princess gets what she wants. Ah, how she’s wanted you to join us for years.”

“What Princess?”

“Oh.” Her eyes flared, “The Princess of the Abyss.”

“I-I have no idea...”

“What I’m talking about? They never do.” She stalked towards you, “Even now, I can sense the power inside of you.”

You pressed yourself against the window and felt your heart rate increase.

“I wonder what lies below your skin. What oozes from your veins.” She hummed, her voice low as she spoke, “I’d love to see.”

“I...” Your throat was dry as you attempted to reply. She stepped towards you, her arms on either side of your head, a polite smile on her lips. “I don’t...”

“It’s quite beautiful outside, isn’t it?” She pointed behind you and gazed at the night sky. “I’ve always thought the night was a bit boring, however, tonight seems to shine.” She leaned down and whispered into your ear, “I wonder if your fear is what makes them so brilliant?”

“Th... them?”

She laughed suddenly and loudly as she pulled away, “Oh, the stars of course!”

“The stars...” your voice fell quiet.

The woman crossed the room and smiled at you, “Well, darling, you should rest. You have a very busy day tomorrow.” She grabbed the door and grinned as electricity pulsed through her skin, a bounce in her step as she opened the door and left you alone.

You turned towards the window and took a deep breath. You pulled yourself onto the ledge and stood up. Slowly and shakily, you turned to face the window, clasped your hands in front of your chest, and let yourself fall.

“Xiao,” you whispered as you fell. “I hope you were lying.”

Stars fall from the sky and grab his attention. He breaks into a sprint and is long gone before anyone can recognize what happened.

Xiao was tired.

Xiao wanted to be faster, but he was tired.

Stars fall from the sky and cry.

Stars fall from the sky and talk to him on his lonely nights.

Stars fall from the sky and smile.

Stars fall from the sky and trust him.

Stars fall from the sky and call him good.

Xiao was tired.

Xiao wanted to save the stars. Xiao wanted to be better than he ever was.

Stars fall from the sky and Xiao hears himself scream.

Stars fall from the sky and he prays that he’s fast enough.

Stars fall from the sky and he takes heavy breaths.

Stars fall from the sky and land in his arms.

Xiao was fast enough.

“You idiot.” He growled as he landed, his hands curling around you, “What happened?!”

You laughed nervously and threw your arms around him in a tight hug. “You caught me.”

“It’s my duty.” He hadn’t realized he was hugging you back until his hands connected with the soft clothes you were wearing. “I’ll...” he stopped himself. Was he really about to say that? No.

You pulled away from the hug and swiped your thumb under his eyes, “Please, don’t cry.” You spoke in a trembling voice.

“What? I’m not-” he shifted your weight to one arm and felt his eyes. “Oh.”

As Xiao gazes into your smile, his heart rate settles and he couldn’t deny the sense of calm. “I’ll always catch you if you fall.”

Stars landed in his arms and blush.

Stars landed in his arms and say ‘I love you.’

Xiao was awake.

Xiao was fast enough.

Xiao was good enough.

Xiao was enough.

Xiao smiled softly, “Mortals... always so dramatic.” He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, “I could get used to it.”

#THIS TOOK SO LONG #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao genshin #xiao genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact #xiao genshin x you #xiao genshin x reader #x reader #x you #fanfiction #one shot #x reader fanfiction #my writing #happy endings #saved by xiao

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sleeping-on-cracking-ice · 3 years

Note

hello! i was wondering if you could make a kurabe imagine/fanfic? any type!

Yesss! I’ve been wanting to write for him. Thanks for requesting! ❤️

To Protect The Protector | Daikichi Karube

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Karube (ft. Alice, Chota, Shibuki)

Genre: fluff

Summary: Karube came back from his game injured, so you look after him for the night

Warning: swearing, blood

Word Count: 2.1k

*reader is gender-neutral

The air was frozen around you. No breeze or slight wind was present in the slightest, making the atmosphere unsettling. Even the crows were silent, having lost their usual screeching that rang through everyone’s ears throughout the day.

Your adrenaline has been on a constant flow through your veins since you survived the first game. Watching the young high school girl get penetrated by the laser struck a deep chord within you. You couldn’t move a muscle as Karube pulled you into the next room before you were engulfed in flames.

You’ve never experienced anything like this world. Where has everyone gone? Who is running the games? Are there any other players?

A young woman that you met last night at the first game named Shibuki decided to stick by your sides for a while. You all took refuge in an empty mall, considering the amount of resources that would be available to you that could come in handy for some reason or another.

Shibuki sat everyone down after a good night’s sleep and explained the concept of the world you were now trapped in. She had only been present in the game for a little longer than you, but you still put trust in her as she obviously knew more than the four of you.

Your boyfriend Karube, who you happened to be with at the time of everyone’s disappearance, has become more anxious about your safety. Since things started becoming peculiar, he has remained tight to your side, ready to shield you from god knows what.

That was just his personality. Yes, he could be blunt and impatient sometimes, but he honestly did care about Alice, Chota and you more than you guys could have ever imagined. He knew he was the brawn of your small friendship group, so he took it upon himself to be the protector.

But unfortunately, him and Alice were too confident and curious for their own good. Alice and Karube had a private chat on one of the mall balcony's discussing whether they should go to an extra game to gain an idea about how they play out, but also to see if they were able to find any players that had a past in medical fields to perhaps look at Chota’s searing burn injury on his lower right leg.

When it came to the next day, Karube talked to you in private without the others, wanting to have some alone time with you.

“Wait what?” you asked shocked. “You’re going to another game? Karube, I’m sorry but are you an idiot? You saw what happened in the game we went to, you could die at any moment!” you exclaimed at him. Karube went silent from your outburst but tried to reason with you. “Look Y/N, I know you’re worried but Alice and I need to see how this place works so we can protect you and Chota.” he said, placing a hand on your cheek.

“But what about you? Who’s going to protect you?” you remarked. You were scared more than anything. You didn’t want to wake up the next morning to find that Karube and Alice never returned. It would’ve absolutely shattered your heart.

He looked up at you from his position on the bed in remorse. He felt awful putting you through the stress, but he knew he had to do it if you wanted to stay alive for as long as you could.

“Come here,” he said after a short juncture of silence. You glanced at his stressed face before moving towards the bed and placing your thighs comfortably on his lap. He wrapped his strong arms around your frame and held you tightly against him.

It should’ve felt comforting, but at that moment it didn’t. If anything, you were dreading the hug because it felt like a goodbye.

“I’m so sorry baby, but I have to go.” Karube rested his chin on top of your head. “I promise you I will do everything in my power to make sure I come back safe and sound.”

He felt you move your head up and down in a nod against him. You pressed your face into his orange shirt. “I know you’ll come back. A stupid game wouldn’t get rid of you. The world would have to work much harder to kill you off.”

Karube chuckled and pulled back to look into your eyes. “You’re right. I’ll be back before you know it.” he claimed.

You wished that were true. There you were now, standing out on a stone ledge looking over a big part of Shibuya. The lack of hustling and bustling from thousands of people was strange to get accustomed to. It was unsettling, almost frightening.

“Why the fuck did I let them go?” you cursed, letting out a harsh huff of breath. “This is bullshit. They have another day on their visa. We could have all waited until tomorrow to go to another game together.”

You heard Chota let out an agreeing hum from the table he was seated at behind you. “It does seem a bit pointless now that we’ve had time to stress about it,” he admitted.

You slouched forward, having hoped for at least a positive response from Chota to reassure you. You continued to keep scanning the streets below you, looking for any sign of another person. Anxiety filled your body the more you looked and couldn’t spot him.

“Shit,” you breathed out, rubbing your face with your hands. “Chota, what if they die?”

“Shh, don’t talk like that. They’ll be fine,” he shushed you quickly, trying to keep worse case scenarios out of his head.

Several hours later after the sun had set, you saw the familiar unpleasant light that indicated where the games were. Karube and Alice had left early to try and look for a doctor for Chota’s leg, so you knew they would then be on their way to the game.

Your heart leapt to your throat and stayed there for several hours as you laid on a couch. You couldn’t help but envision awful ways that Karube could possibly be killed. Before you knew it, hot tears began pooling in your orbs and running down your face onto the pillow underneath your head.

“Oh fuck,” you cried, your voice cracking, “Please be okay Karube. I can’t live on in this world without you.” You let out soft little sobs, trying to stay quiet in order not to alert Chota or Shibuki who were in the room over from you.

Quite literally, you cried yourself to sleep. Your eyes became heavier and heavier alongside the irritation that the tears brought. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to pass out, manifesting the vision of seeing Karube laying next to you when you wake up. He would be unharmed and have the biggest smile on his handsome face, ready to pepper kisses all over your face to make up for all the stress he put you through for going to the game without you.

Soon enough, you woke abruptly from a loud noise coming from the door of the room, watching as it swung open harshly to reveal Alice holding Karube by the arm, acting as a crutch.

Karube stumbled in clutching his side. He glanced up with stained tears of pain in his eyes and smiled when he saw you still half-asleep on the couch.

You widened your eyes in surprise and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh my god, Karube! Alice! Thank god.”

You scrambled to your feet and rushed over to the two exhausted men to help Alice out with Karube. Karube lifted his arm and wrapped it around you as you crashed into him in a reunion hug. Karube winced heavily from the huge machete wound in his side stinging.

“It’s okay baby, we’re okay,” he comforted you, pushing his face into your hair and breathing in your scent. You felt tears filling your vision again, the relief of seeing Karube safe and sound in your arms again being too overwhelming.

Ten minutes later, after everyone welcomed Alice and Karube back, you and Karube were sitting on the couch while the others searched for something fresh to eat further in the mall (which would be a challenge). Karube was wincing as you lifted up his black t-shirt to take a look at the wound he gained from the tagger in the ‘Tag’ game.

“Shit babe,” you groaned. Luckily it appeared like the machete hadn’t cut too deep into his abdomen. He wouldn’t need stitches, just disinfectant and a tight bandage to stop the blood flow.

Karube watched you as you walked over to the table to grab the disinfectant and medical bandage to use on him. He felt on edge because you hadn’t said much since he’d returned from the game. He was thinking maybe you were agitated with him.

“Y/N,” he said, catching your attention. “I’m sorry I went to the game. I know it was a mistake now,” he admitted, hanging his head low apologetically.

You shook your head disapprovingly and focused back on his wound. “Yeah, it was a mistake. This is the least that could’ve happened Karube.”

He could tell you were annoyed, because you always got smart with him when he’s angered you.

“Now you’re going to be disadvantaged at your next game with this gaping wound in your side.” You stated. You began pouring the rubbing alcohol onto a cloth. “Just warning you, this is going to hurt but try not to squirm too much.”

Karube nodded and held his black t-shirt up so you could disinfect his injury. As you pressed the cloth to the slice, Karube hissed and placed his hand over yours. “Just be gentle,” he stammered.

You nodded and continued to go slow.

After you managed to clean his injury, he stood up so you could wrap the bandage around his abdomen. He stared at you as you did so, smiling to himself about how lucky he was to have you look after him like this.

When you were done, you brushed off your hands and placed the disinfectant back on the table. Karube sat back down and looked at you.

“Thank you Y/N,” he said in a sweet tone. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him gazing at you lovingly. You grinned, being glad that he was okay.

“You’re welcome,” you answered. “Can you promise me something?” you asked, turning around fully to face him. Karube leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Of course, anything for you.”

“If it ever came to a choice between you or me to continue living, you need to promise me that you’ll choose yourself,” you murmured. Karube’s cheeky smile rolled off his face, replaced by a confused expression.

“Why would I do that? I love you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I survived but you didn’t.” he said sadly, reaching out his arms to invite you into a hug.

You took the invitation and trudged over to him, standing between his legs and letting him wrap his strong arms around your waist while resting his head on your stomach.

“Yeah, I know you would Karube. I feel the same way but, you have a dream and a bright future ahead of you. I wouldn’t want to take that away from you if it came to that.” you ran your fingers through his coarse, bleached blonde hair and he let out a big sigh.

“But my dream is you Y/N. I want to stay with you,” he professed. “I want to leave this place with you, no one else.”

You felt your heart clutch itself in your chest. You felt awful. You didn’t know what to do or say to make things seem better than they were. That was the horrific reality about that world, nothing you could ever say would make things better or more comforting.

“Why don’t we just focus on surviving and keeping each other alive for now and focus on the more serious stuff when it comes to it,” Karube spoke up, resting his chin against your stomach to look up at you with his big dark eyes.

You stared down at him with so much love. You do anything to keep him with you, to keep him happy and safe. Just his eyes alone show the amount of love and care he holds in his blunt heart.

You smiled slowly and nodded your head in agreement. “Of course. Let’s just focus on staying alive right now so we can have many more moments together.”

Author’s Note: I hope this wasn’t too boring. I have a lot of requests for Alice In Borderland lined up so I’ll be working through them and posting them when I can! 💕

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wackatoshi · 3 years

Text

heartbreak highway

kuroo tetsurou x reader

summary: (angst, summer fling au) the one that got away.

There’s no highway like heartbreak.

It’s a tarmac of temptation, rolled out like a red carpet for the hopeless romantics seeking centre stage.

How do you make your fifteen minutes of fame last forever? You can close your eyes, you can pretend, you can hope for the best.

(You can’t.)

In retrospect, you should’ve seen it coming. Your friends had pointed out all the exit signs, begging you to take your leave while your fragile heart stood the chance, but you hadn’t listened.

So when Kuroo breaks the silence with the shattering truth neither of you wanted to admit, it is your fault that it hurts.

“It’s just not going to work out,” he sighs, carding a hand through a mess of midnight-black hair. “You know, with the distance and...”

You know.

But you’re wearing a hoodie that still smells like him, curled up in the passenger side of a car that is just beginning to feel like home. You look at him and wonder if this is what love is, if you’ll ever feel this way again.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

The radio murmurs quietly in the hollow silence between you. As your eyes prick with tears, you stare at the navy skyline where the sun once shone, breathing life and light into a summer you’d hoped would never end, and find yourself back where it all began.

It’s a bad idea to pick up an afternoon shift in the middle of a sweltering summer.

The air is slick with humidity. A cheerful love song croons from the radio, almost but not quite drowning out the sounds of the AC as it fights off an incipient breakdown. You’re seconds away from dozing off when the door squeals open, revealing the most handsome devil of a stranger that your eyes have ever bestowed.

He’s framed in the hazy glow of the setting sun, looking like something plucked straight out of a coming-of-age indie film. While it doesn’t necessarily help that Frankie Valli is declaring impassioned love through the crackling radio, it definitely adds to the experience.

The stranger’s searching gaze sweeps through the room before settling on you, sparkling with sudden interest.

“Hey.”

You blink at him, dazed.

“Hi.”

His smile turns sheepish as he waves the dog-eared directory in his hand.

“So...” he says, slowly, “I think I’m lost.”

(Kuroo informs you, a week later, that he was lost the minute he set eyes on you. You burst into laughter, tell him to shut up, and then he pulls you close and kisses you — for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

Well, not yet, anyway.)

As you’re busy scribbling down directions in this stranger’s map, he mentions to you that he’s staying in town for a few weeks, and asks if there’s anything he should see or do around here.

Me, you think, and nearly blush with shame, banishing your gaze down at the counter to hide your embarrassment.

You clear your throat, before rattling off the generic list of attractions you tell all the hapless travellers that wind up in here — the old cinema, that eroding rock mass supposedly shaped like a dog, and oh, the mint. Honestly, there’s nothing special about this little pigeonhole of the world, but you’re not about to tell, uh—

“Kuroo,” he supplies, and it’s only a name, but it rolls off his tongue like a spell. He takes his directory back from your hands, the fleeting brush of his fingers sending chills down your spine. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course,” you return, breathless.

He lingers, his forearms resting over the counter, and regards you with the faintest beginnings of a smirk. Who would’ve guessed that heartbreak smells like petrol and a packet of gum? You think that, maybe, if you lean a little closer, you could find out what it tastes like, too.

He’s looking at you like he might be thinking exactly the same thing.

“Well, Kuroo,” you break the silence, mustering a polite smile as you straighten up. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

He drops his head with a soft laugh, then peels himself off the counter with shameless swagger.

“You know, I think I already am.”

You flush.

Seemingly satisfied, he salutes you goodbye, wearing a grin that only widens as he strides towards the exit, whistling along with the radio. Then, at the last second, he turns back around to leave you one more thing to lose sleep over.

“See you around,” he says, and how much it sounds like a promise.

Without giving you a chance to reply, Kuroo winks, then pushes the door open with his back and disappears into the street.

There’s a star-struck grin stained on your face for the rest of the day, as you replay his enchanting smile like a comfort movie, his low voice like a favourite song.

Oh, it’s just too good to be true.

One thing you like about this guy — he’s a man of his word.

Kuroo visits the store again, and again, always acting pleasantly surprised to see you behind the counter. His visits are always welcome, albeit riddled with boyish jokes and ostensible motives.

You tease him, and he flirts back.

“Any hair gel with that, today?” you ask, innocently, as you scan a pack of gum across the machine. At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before he depletes the entire town’s supply, like some bulldozing capitalist. Or something.

“Absolutely not.”

You slide the gum across the counter, gesturing at that signature....beehive.

“Does it get caught in ceiling fans?”

Kuroo shoots you a dry look, then rolls his eyes and turns away, unable to help the amused smile from spilling over his lips.

“I get it,” he sighs. “You don’t like my hair.”

“I never said that.”

“So you do like it, then?”

You snort, seeing his play.

“I think,” you say, picking your words carefully, “I would like to see it interact with a ceiling fan.”

“Okay, okay,” he groans, dramatically. “No need to beg. You can touch it, I suppose.”

You blink at him, watching as he folds his arms over the counter and shifts down to your eye-level. In spite of your surprise, you can’t help but find his hair extremely tantalising at this very moment.

The pull of curiosity sends your hand nearing that literal fortress of inky black, before you pull back abruptly to narrow your eyes at him.

“Do you ask every checker you meet to pet you like a cat?”

Kuroo pauses.

“No,” he says, after some thought, before a mischievous grin breaks over his face. “Only the ones I like.”

He swipes the gum off the counter, winks, and takes his leave.

The next day, Kuroo channels all of his charm and courage into the request he’s been carefully mulling over this whole time. He sets down another packet of gum, paired with a box of Hershey’s Kisses, and takes a deep breath, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“Can I take you out somewhere tonight?”

You seal your fate with a smile.

Later that night, when you’re sitting in his car with his jacket around your shoulders, talking about everything and nothing, the sobering realisation dawns in your mind.

The two of you are a geographical nightmare, living two whole worlds apart. Pursuing this would be like speeding down a dead-end road, hurtling straight for the inevitable crash.

You chew over this the whole way home and wonder how you’re going to let him down easy.

Kuroo walks you to your doorstep like a gentleman, his eyes lighting up as he gazes around at your house and neighbourhood, like a child in a toy shop. As you wrangle the keys out of your handbag, fighting off the onset of heartbreak, he clears his throat so you glance up at him.

“Hey,” he starts, gently. “I had a great night, and I think...”

He trails off, gauging the look in your eyes with calculated caution.

“I think you’re incredible,” he admits. “And I’d love to do this again.”

You’re on the verge of telling him what you’ve been thinking about when he says goodnight, leaning in so close his lips graze the cusp of your ear, so you say screw it, and slam your foot down on the gas.

Because what is inevitability when you’re young and in love, flying down the freeway with daring dreams and hopeless hearts? Your hands dangling out of his car window, fingers chasing after the August wind, hanging onto nights that will never end.

So every twilight, you watch the sunset with Kuroo’s arms snug around your waist, his head resting on top of yours. Your eyes burn as the sun bleeds down into the horizon, and it reminds you of how he is something you can never have, how he is slipping between your fingers like sand as each day ends.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, just as the last wisp of light dies to the night.

You swallow, looking up at this strange man who waltzed into your life on one serendipitous afternoon, only to turn it completely inside out. You’re thinking about a lot of things — tomorrow’s weather, the abandoned train station, Tokyo, that topiary garden you want to show him, Tokyo.

“I feel funny,” you settle on. It’s not a lie.

Kuroo blinks down at you, brows furrowing as if reading the truth from your eyes. Then, he sighs, shrugging out of his crimson hoodie and unceremoniously dumping it over your head. You make a sound of surprise as you flail, drowning in the heap of fabric bunched around your neck.

He laughs at your expense, barely able to contain his amusement.

After helping you find the arm holes and tugging the hoodie down so it hangs around your thighs, he takes a small step backwards to give you a quick once-over.

“How do you feel now?”

“Better.”

“Good,” he says, and pulls you flush against his chest, “because it’s my favourite.”

“Then I’ll give it back before you go,” you whisper.

He stills for a moment, before tilting your head to look up at him. There’s a sober expression on his face, so unlike his usual light-hearted humour.

“Keep it.”

He makes you promise this, which in all respects, is not a difficult thing to do.

Maybe it’s so you will remember him, beyond forgettable memories and fading photographs. Maybe it’s so you will always have a piece of proof that he was real and this was real.

You hope, most of all, that it’s so he will have a reason to come back one day, to your little pigeonhole of the world.

For one transient summer, you are in love.

They told you this would end in heartbreak. You just didn’t expect it to come so soon.

The night is still, disturbed only by city lights, twinkling in the distance like a hazy mirage. They reflect in his eyes, and you think that if you touch him right now, he might disappear from you altogether, as if he were nothing but a wispy dream.

“It’s okay,” you answer at last, fighting the vacillating uncertainty in your voice. “It was fun while it lasted.”

He swallows, looking away.

“Yeah.”

The car fills with silence, drowning the two of you with dangerous thoughts, as your minds speed down highways made of what-ifs and could-bes.

Then, Kuroo starts the car, the revving of the engine shaking you out of your all-consuming thoughts. With a heavy sigh, he pats the steering wheel.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

And now your eyes sting with hot tears, because he says it like it could be his — like home isn’t halfway across the country, but right here next to you.

You stare out the window, vision blurring with the neon streaks of passing cars. Somewhere along the web of your thoughts, you notice the radio quietly humming the same song that played when he first walked into your life.

It will forever remind you of him.

Will it remind you of me?

In only a few hours’ time, Kuroo will be heading back to a city you have never seen, to people you have never met, and then there will be a thousand miles separating the two of you. So you tell yourself that distance is just space, that space can be filled, be full of so many other beautiful things. If you tell yourself this over and over again, maybe you will believe it.

His hand lingers over the gear stick, loose and relaxed, open enough to be an invitation. Wordlessly, you slide your fingers beneath his, revelling in the warmth of his palm enveloping yours as he shifts gears.

Even though the exit sign looms ahead in unmistakable view, a part of you still hopes that this road will never end.

How do you say goodbye to someone you will never see again? He holds your face in his hands, his heartbroken eyes poring over every detail as if to commit you to an everlasting memory.

When he kisses you, you know this is it. It’s the blazing, punchy ending to something that barely had a chance to begin. You wonder if this is how it feels to burn and bleed, like the way the sun surrenders to the sky every day, with defiant beauty and blinding pain.

“I won’t forget you,” he swears when he pulls away, tracing his fingers over your flushed cheeks, for the last time.

Kuroo’s a man of his word, but this is a promise you’re not sure that he’ll be able to keep.

And when he leaves, you stay out in the sticky night, watching his car until it disappears into the skyline, like a sun that will never rise again.

There will still be daylight tomorrow. It may not be with him, but it will be a new day nonetheless.

It’s a somewhat bittersweet realisation — how time will always move forward, regardless of the unanswered questions and plot holes you leave behind, marring the past. It pushes on with relentless force, and only asks that you to trust in it enough to stick around for the rest of the journey.

There’s no highway like heartbreak — it’s romantic, it’s rough, but it sure as hell will take you places.

#kuroo looks good in angst! LMAO #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo angst #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsurou angst #kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsurou imagine #summer fling au #haikyuu x reader #kuroo be my summer fling #but I can see us lost in the memories august sipped away like a bottle of wine #coz you were never mine #🥲💔

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yaimlight · 3 years

Text

Rating: mature

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader / Todoroki Shoto x fem!reader (set per relationship)

A/N: part of the Twos Company, Threes A Crowd series but can be read on own. Series masterlist can be found here. This is by far probably one of my favourites. I loved every minute of this and it was so much fun to work on. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

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Katsuki’s footsteps echoed around the quite halls as he slowly made his way to class. He was early. A hell of a lot earlier than he would normally be but the idiots he called friends had been extra annoying this morning and he had needed to get away from them before he blew something up. So here he was trudging his way through the empty hallways to go crash at his desk. He would have a good solid fifteen to twenty minutes before anyone else turned up so he would be able to get some studying in before anyone disturbed him.

Coming to a stop in front of the class room Katsuki grabbed the handle and yanked the door open, the thing rattling as it slid open. Inside two sets of eyes looked back at him blankly and Katsuki blanched. Aizawa was slumped back in his chair, half in his sleeping bag and his tired eyes focused on Katsuki with a sharp intensity. On his desk sat Y/N, her hands curled around the edge and legs swinging as she leant forward. Her skirt had ridden up slightly and Katsuki could see the top of her thigh, the unblemished skin standing out against the dark wood.

Katsuki snapped his eyes up from where he had been staring at her legs and back up to her face. She was smirking at him knowingly and he could feel the slight blush forming on his cheeks. Scoffing Katsuki stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him and made his way over to his desk, refusing to acknowledge the other two people.

He could feel their eyes on him as he dumped his bag onto his desk and dropped into his seat. He could hear her whisper something to the teacher, the low murmur of her voice grating on his nerves. This was weird. Y/N had never shown anything but contempt toward the older man and he the same to her so for them to be talking like that was odd, suspicion even and it made Katsuki feel uncomfortable, like he had walked in on something private that he wasn’t supposed to know about.

Angrily he yanked out his English text book with every intention of studying for the exam tomorrow but he couldn’t tune her out, his ears twitching as his listened to her push off their teachers desk, her booted footsteps heavy as she slowly walked up to her desk. “Morning blasty” she said cheerfully and Katsuki caught a glimpse of her hips swaying as she walked past him. Growling he refused to answer, his grip tightening on his book.

Three week, that’s all it been since the start of the school yeah and she had turned up and she had been grating on his nerves ever since. She had barley interacted with the class, choosing to ignore them and make herself scarce during free time. Some of the stupid extras had tried to befriend her to start with but she had shut them down without a second thought and they had quickly given up.

That would have been fine by him, if he could get half his stupid classmates to leave him alone he would but for some reason that Katsuki couldn’t figure out she had taken an interest in him and they often found themselves alone at the oddest times. He would say it had something to do with her quirk but no one knew what it was. None of them had seen her use it as she never turned up for practical lessons and Aizawa had refused to tell them, telling them to work it out themselves.

At the front of the class Aizawa slid down onto the floor and zipped up the rest of his sleeping bag, falling asleep quickly and leaving the two of them to their own devices. This was fine, he didn’t have to interact with her, could just ignore her like he did every other day. Turning his attention back to his book Katsuki started to read through the last chapter, his mind filling with his schoolwork and drowning everything else out. It worked for a while, the silence welcomed but she shattered it quickly.

Katsuki gritted his teeth as she began to hum, tapping along on her desk to whatever that god awful tune was. He tried to ignore it, grinding his teeth and hunching his shoulders, his grip tightening on his book to the point that he was close to ripping it in two. “Will you shut up” he growled, slamming his book down and spinning in his chair to glare at her. She was leaning on her hand, elbow resting on her desk and staring out of the window. Slowly she turned to face him, smiling widely at him as she folded her arms on top of the desk. He could see her booted feet sticking out form the side, the metal gleaming in the light.

“Aww is little old me distracting the big bad blondie” she tipped her head to the side and pouted, her voice teasing and childlike. He hated it. “Your annoying the hell out of me you little shit so shut the fuck up before I make you” he hissed, snarling at her. He probably shouldn’t be swearing so much, Aizawa likely to reprimand him for it latter but he didn’t care at this moment, too annoyed with the infuriating girl.

Her eyes seemed to flash with excitement, a wide and dangerous smirk splitting across her face. “I’ll hold you to that” she said evenly, her voices holding a dark promise to it. Katsuki swallowed, stuck in Y/Ns intense gaze. He felt like he had just been threatened somehow, like he should be worried for his life and it left him with a feeling of dread deep in his stomach. “Bakubro!”

Katsuki blinked. Y/N was looking out the window again, head resting on her hand and elbows on the table, a bored expression on her face. “There you are man. Can’t believe you ran off like that” Kirishima said happily coming over to Katsuki’s desk and slinging his arm around the blondes shoulder. Normally he would shrug the other boy of and yell at him but Katsuki was stuck, still staring at Y/N in disbelief. Had that just happened or had he imagined the whole thing?

Kirishima moved, leaning forward and blocking Katsuki’s view. “Hey, you okay bro?” He sounded concerned, frowning down at the blonde and his hold tightening on his shoulder. Katsuki jerked back, yanking his shoulder out of the other teens hold and smacked his arm away. “Of course I am shitty hair, why the hell wouldn’t I be?” Katsuki yelled angrily, glaring at the redhead. Bloody idiot, why wouldn’t Katsuki be okay? He was the god dam best in this shitty school and he did not get scared of anything, especially not of mouthy little shits who thought they were so god dammed special because her daddy was some rich fuck.

Kirishima stepped back, laughing as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s cool dude, just wanted to check as you ran off so early”. Katsuki growled, turning back around in his chair and shoved his book back into his bag. The rest of the class had started to file in now, all of them loud and energetic. It didn’t take long for Kaminari, Sero and Ashido to come bouncing over to join Kirishima, the four of them crowding around Katsuki’s desk and chatting loudly about something he really couldn’t care less about. What did they even have to talk about? They literally spent nearly every waking moment together so how did they still have shit to talk about.

Shifting in his seat Katsuki chanced a glance back at Y/N. She was still staring out the window, no one having approached her but why would they? She was even less approachable than him. Sensing his eyes on her, her own flicked up instantly finding his. The sun was streaming in through the window, bathing her in a bright light that gave her an almost other worldly glow. Katsuki was suddenly struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment. She looked sad, lonely even as the rest of the class bustled around and she just keep staring out the window as if she was longing for something beyond the world around them. Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder what it was that had made her so distant and what he could do to make her smile a real genuine smile, just once. He bet she would look even more stunning than she did now.

As if she knew what he was think she broke out into a wide smirk, her eyes seeming to sparkle with knowing. Scowling at her he turned back round, sinking into his seat. Beautiful? Ha, as if. She was nothing to him, just an insignificant background character on his journey to greatness. He didn’t need anything from her, didn’t want anything either and that included a stupid smile. He was Bakugou Katsuki, future number one hero and no one was getting in his way.

“Everyone settle down” Aizawa’s sleep rough voice called from the front of the room and everyone scrambled to their seats. Sighing Katsuki slumped forward, resting his chin on his hand. Aizawa droned on about some hero fight from a few years ago that he wanted them to analyse, asking the class to try and figure out what the villains quirk was. It reminded him of what the class had been trying and failing to do with Y/N throughout the weeks, each one of them chiming in with ideas from teleportation to some form of camouflage but with nothing to go on no one could say for sure. Not that Katsuki cared, because he didn’t. He couldn’t care less about her or whatever useless quirk she had.

That didn’t stop him from stealing glimpses of her whenever he could throughout the morning, only half paying attention to his classes. Every time he looked she was always bent over her text book or papers, doing the work asked of her for once. He didn’t think he had actually ever seen her doing the work before let alone paying attention to the class. It was odd and confusing and Katsuki didn’t like it. He had been so sure about the kind of person she was, especially after that first night but this was out of character and it made him feel like the rug had been yanked out from under him.

When lunch rolled around Ashido attached herself to his arm, dragging him along behind her to the cafeteria and even though he complained the whole time he went willingly. As he was dragged from the room he took one more look at the girl. She had lent forward over her desk, head resting on her folded arms and turned towards the window. He wasn’t the only one watching her though, the half ‘n’ half bastard staring at her with a little frown as Deku jabbered away next to him. Katsuki didn’t like it and he didn’t know why.

Lunch past quickly, Katsuki ignoring his friends in favour of trying to work out what his problem was and stealing glances at the shitty candy cane. He hadn’t seen Todoroki interact with the other girl, not once but then again no one had seen him the five or six times he had spoken to her either so that didn’t mean jack. The thought of them two stumbling across one another in empty hallways and abandoned classrooms, of her pressing against the bastard as she teased and taunted him just like she did with Katsuki had him grinding his teeth and glaring, a heaviness settling in his stomach that he couldn’t begin understand.

“Man I am so pumped for this” Kirishima called happily, punching the air with his fist and smiling like an idiot. “Me to bro. I can not wait to try my new attack out on you” Kaminari jumped up onto the bench in a mock defensive pose, kicking his leg out as if he was about to attack. Groaning Katsuki yanked his own locker open, shoving his school bag and blazer inside. The changing room was buzzing with excitement as they stripped out of their school clothes and tugged on their hero costumes. It was the first time since they had started the new year that Aizawa was letting them actually practice against one another, the last few weeks full of running drills that had been as boring as hell and they were all ready for an actual chance to let lose.

“Get down from there this instant” Glasses voice echoed around the room, dunce face whining as he jumped down and went back to changing into his clothes. Katsuki was smirking, the excitement for what was to coming already getting his blood pumping. Over break he had meet up with shitty hair and the rest of his friends a few times to spar, even Deku once or twice but none of them had really been able to let go of their quirks completely and he was looking forward to really letting go.

“Hay Bakugou! You ready to get your arse kicked?” Katsuki gritted his teeth, snarling as he turned to face Kaminari. “The hell I am loser. I’m going to kick all your arses” he yelled, fists clenched at his side. Like he would lose to anyone. Laughing Kirishima slapped him on the back and Katsuki rolled his shoulder aggressively, grumbling for the other teen to get the hell off of him.

“I wonder if any of the girls have leaned any new moves were their clothes fly off”. Sero smacked the shitty little pervert round the back of the head, knocking the bubble head idiot into his locker. “Stop being such a pervert” Sero glared down at Mineta as he rubbed at his forehead. Deserved the little shit right. If he carried on the way he was Katsuki gave him a month tops once they graduated before he got arrested for sexual harassment.

Wordlessly Katsuki began to tug off his clothes, listening to the idiots behind him ramble on about new moves they had been trying to develop and the ones they knew the girls had been working on. How stupid could these people get? Telling the others their new tactics when they should be keeping it to themselves and using it to surprise their opponents and beat them into dust.

Katsuki tuned them out as the conversation turned into discussing how much hotter the girls had gotten over the break. Instead Katsuki focused on getting changed as quickly as he could so he could get out there already. He had been keyed up all day and he was looking for a reason to get rid of some of his built up frustrations. He could already feel the sweat starting to coat his palms, his skin itching with the need to just let his quirk burst free from his palms. He longed for the familiar crack and boom of the explosions that would spark to life in his hands.

He was halfway through tugging on his trousers when he stilled, his attention snapping back to the rest of the room when he heard her name. “Sure she’s pretty but her attitude kind of tanks that”. Katsuki gritted his teeth, trying not to draw attention to himself as Sato spoke. He hatted he was so interested in what they were say, hanging on with baited breath in case they said something he didn’t already know.

“Maybe that’s her thing, being all distant and mysterious to get us all talking about her. You know being a bit of a bitch to hide a soft gooey centre” Sero said thoughtfully. Katsuki turned as he yanked on his tank top on, glaring at his idiot of a friend. As far as he knew he was the only one in the class who had held any sort of conversation with Y/N since her first day when she had told Deku in no uncertain terms where they could all shove their offer of friendship and he could say that underneath the cold and distance bitchiness was as teasing, infuriating, annoying bitch who seemed to know how to get under Katsuki’s skin and inside his head.

“That’s not an actual thing. Is it?” Kaminari asked, tipping his head to the side and brows drawn in confusion. “I mean it’s what Bakugou dose”. Katsuki did actually growl at that turning his attention to Kirishima. “The hell you saying about me shitty hair” he yelled taking a step forward and pointing an accusing finger at the other teen who just laughed it off.

“I guess we will never know unless one of us actually manages to talk to her”. Sato shrugged as he spoke, turning back to his own locker to get ready for class. Letting out a huff Katsuki turned back to his own locker, pulling out his boots. He thought that would be the end of the conversation, hoped it would anyway. He didn’t want to hear about her anymore, the mere though of the girl irritating him but it seemed the grape haired pervert had other ideas.

“Todoroki’s spoke to her”. The room fell quite, all eyes turning to look at the for mentioned teen. He had frozen, hands halfway through pulling up his zipper. His back was to most of the class but from where Katsuki stood he could see the shock and worry flash across his face.

“What! When?” Kaminari exclaimed loudly, his jacket falling to the floor as he looked franticly between the candy cane and grape boy. Katsuki would like to know that to, would beat it out of the other boy if he didn’t tell him. Mineta smirked, loving the fact that he knew something no one else did. “It’s true. I saw them the other night in the hallway and they looked pretty cosy if you know what I mean”.

Katsuki was going to kill that half ‘n’ half bastard. What the hell right did he have to be sneaking around at night get cosy with his…with his…Shit why the hell was this bothering Katsuki so much? He had no right to Y/N, didn’t want jack shit to do with her in the first place. Let the bastard have her, they would be perfect together with his stoic attitude and her cold indifference. Fists clenching and snarling Katsuki dropped down onto the bench and yanked his boots on. He didn’t care, not one bit so why the hell was he getting so angry?

“Dude you’ve been holding out on us. Come on spill”. Katsuki didn’t look up as Kaminari spoke, glaring at his boots as he laced them up. He didn’t want to be here to hear this shit. “I would hardly call it a conversation, we barley exchanged words” Todoroki said in his normal bland, monotone voice and Katsuki did look up at this, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. Katsuki was calling bullshit and he didn’t understand why half ‘n’ half would lie about it.

“Do you normally let people push their chest against yours and whisper in your ear to exchange a few words” Mineta’s voice droned on and every one stopped once again. Todoroki was blushing, mix matched eyes wide and looking like a deer caught in headlights. Katsuki’s hands began to smoke, black wisps off it escaping between his fingers.

He knew what that felt like, knew the feeling of her hands curling over his shoulders as she stepped into his space, her breasts pushing against his chest as she whispered a teasing comment in his ear, her warm breath sending shivers down his spine. Katsuki clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he forced his quirk back down. Anger, envy and resentment crashed into Katsuki, churning round in his stomach and making him feel sick.

“Dude are you banging the new chick?” Kaminari shouted in disbelief and Katsuki saw red. “I don’t think that’s really any of our business” Deku stuttered out, coming to defend the half ‘n’ half bastard who looked like he was about to pass out, all the colour draining from his stupidly angular face.

Growling Katsuki stood back up, shoving his gauntlets on as he did. He slammed his locker shut, the whole thing rattling with the force. “Who gives a shit if he’s getting his dick wet. Just hurry the fuck up and get your arses out there so I can beat them”. Katsuki snarled as he stormed over to the exit that lead onto the training field. His shoulder slamming into the shitty candy cane on the way past, the other teen letting out a grunt of pain.

Katsuki could hear the others still talking behind him, their annoying voices trailing after him. “No fair man, pretty boys like you need to leave us some girls”. “How rude”. “Someone’s extra grumpy today”. “Are you okay Todoroki-kun”. Clenching his jaw Katsuki tried to shove everything down. He didn’t need these shitty feelings. He didn’t have time for them, not if he was going to become the number one hero. What he was going to do was spend the next couple of hours beating his classmates into the dust and Y/N would be nowhere in sight to get under his skin and leave him itchy and wound tight.

He squinted as he stepped out into the sun, turning his head to try and actually see something. The girls were already out, huddled together and whispering amounts themselves. Frowning Katsuki dragged his eyes over them, clocking the nervous looks on some of their faces. That was odd, he hadn’t seen them all that worried in a while and he couldn’t think what would have them so on edge. It didn’t take long to find out though. As he got closer the sun was blocked by the high walls of the stadium they were in. Aizawa stood just a little way off of the group of girls, a clipboard in hand and looking as bored as always as he spoke to Y/N who stood next to him.

Katsuki came to slow stop next the huddle of girls, confused as to what was going on because she wasn’t supposed to be here. Y/N had on the navy and white U.A training outfit, her chunky black boots replaced by black trainers. Her face was turned up towards Aizawa, a serious look about her as she nodded along to whatever their teacher was saying. Why was she hear? She hadn’t come to a single one of these classes since she got here, not once so why the hell was she here now when all Katsuki wanted was her to be as far away from him as possible.

He could hear the rest of the guys approaching, their loud chattering dying down as they came to a stop behind him, finally noticing the girl who had been absent for the past three weeks. “You’re finally all here” Aizawa drawled, his tired eyes dragging across the huddle of students in front of him. “This week we will be looking at how to fight opponent who are completely unknown to you. It has been brought to my attention that after three weeks none of you have managed to work out what Y/Ns quirk is so she has kindly agreed to help with this week’s task”. Katsuki knew he should be thinking about strategies and technics but his mind was stuck. He was finally going to find out what her quirk was.

“You will each face Y/N one at a time with the goal of getting your opponent over the out of bounds lines. If you can work out what her quirk is you will receive top marks for today’s class, if you don’t you will have to run laps after class in full gear” Aizawa had to yell the last bit, the classes chatter getting louder with every second but Katsuki’s eyes were stuck on Y/N as she wordlessly walked out into the middle of the field. Once their she began to stretch, twisting and turning her body a she got ready for the fight coming her way.

It seemed a little unfair, all twenty of them against just her. Sure it was one at a time but it would be gruelling and there was no way she would be able to make it through all of them. That was unless she had some sort of endurance quirk that meant she could out last them all. There had to be something about her and her quirk for Aizawa to think she could stand up to them all but what? What was it that made the older man so sure she could handle that sort of exertion?

“Your names have all been picked out at random to determine in what order you will go. Mineta you will be first, the rest of you take a seat and wait your turn”. The grape haired pervert let out a surprised yelp, practically trembling in his little yellow boots. Grunting Katsuki turned, heading towards the benches that had been lined up a safe distance from the battle arena. The battle area that had been marked out wasn’t that big, probably a little smaller than the one they used for the sports festivals and they were seated close enough to that you could still hear what was being said out on the pitch.

Grunting Katsuki dropped down into the middle of one of the benches, legs splayed wide, his elbows resting on his thighs and heavy gauntlets hanging between them. He didn’t pay much attention to the others but he knew that Sero and Ashido sat on one side of him whilst Kirishima and Kaminari sat on the other side, the four of them talking excitedly over him as they tried to work out what Y/Ns quirk could possibly be. Katsuki just sat there though, watching Mineta as he hesitantly stepped into the starting circle in the middle of the pitch, eyes nervously darting around. “When you’re ready” Aizawa called and the whole class shut up, their attention snapping to the two people in the middle of the field. Katsuki held his breath, waiting to see what she did.

“Hey Mineta-kun” Y/N said all bright and cheerful, smiling down at the grape fucker like they spoke all the time. The pervert stuttered and stumbled over his words and for once looking everywhere but at the girl in front of him. She laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of her neck as a soft pink blush spread across her cheeks. “This is really embarrassing but it’s a lot hotter out here than I thought would you mind if I got rid of this before we started?” She tugged at her jacket as she spoke, looking down at Mineta with a bashful smile. She looked sweet and innocent and Katsuki knew that was utter trash. She was up to something.

Mineta’s attention snapped back to Y/N, a dopy smile on his face as he shook his head. “No that’s fine” he said excitedly, his eyes zeroing in on her chest. She mumbled a quick thanks before her hands went to the zipper. Time seemed to slow as she dragged down the zipper, still smiling sweetly as inch after inch of delicate skin was exposed. Katsuki was transfixed, watching the roll of her shoulders as she tugged the jacket down her arms and exposing the black sports bra she had on underneath. Mineta was practically drawling, eyes fixed on her breasts and Katsuki couldn’t blame him, his own eyes dragging along the outline through the workout top.

Laughing she leant forward, curling one hand over the small teens shoulder, her chest at eye level. Katsuki would swear that he pervert passed out the way his eyes rolled back but he stayed stood, supporting Y/N as she started to tug down her trousers. Someone made a chocked of squeak and Katsuki would put money on it being glasses, his delicate sensibilities being damaged by the amount of skin that was being exposed as the trousers slid over her pert arse and down unblemished thighs. She tugged them over her shoes and throw them behind her to join her abandoned top.

“Holy shit” whispered Kaminari the same time Ashido let out a low whistle. Y/N was stood in nothing but a black sports bra and matching shorts that cling to every curve and ended midway down her thigh. There was so much skin on display, more than was normally on offer when she was in her uniform and Katsuki hungrily drank it all on. Mineta seemed to have forgotten what was supposed to be happening, his hands making little grabby motions towards her and mumbling so much it would but Deku to shame but Y/N hadn’t forgotten.

She tipped her head to the side slightly, her smile twisting and eyes narrowing. Her grip tightened in the collar of his costume then in one quick move she spun round, bringing her leg up and kicking him hard in the stomach. Mineta screamed as he flew through the air, arms flailing as he crashed to the ground face first and outside of the boundary lines. Katsuki started down at the pervert dumbly for a second before dragging his eyes back to the middle of the pitch. She was stood back up, head tipped back and facing the sky but her eyes were fixed on them, a dangerous smirk on her lips. “Oh shit” Kaminari whispered, sounding equal parts amazed and scared.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at her, snarling slightly. She hadn’t used a quirk, not that he could see anyway, just pure strength. Unless that was her quirk but Katsuki refuses to believe it was that easy. No this was supposed to be hard, a challenge or otherwise Aizawa wouldn’t have set it. She wouldn’t make it that easy to spot what she was doing, trying to mask her quirk by relying on other skills but that wouldn’t be possible for long, not against people like him on half ‘n’ half, and hell half the class had quirks that could beat her down from a distance. Katsuki was excited, skin humming for his chance to get in there with her, to finally be able to wipe that smug smile of her face.

“Hagakure you’re next” Aizawa called and the girl let out a surprised squeak. Katsuki leaned forward, watching the gloves and shoes make their way onto the field. Y/N would have to use her quirk for this fight surly. The invisible girl may not be the best fighter in the class but she had the element of surprise on her side. If it was Katsuki he would let of explosion after explosion, driving the girl back until she had no choice but to step out of the ring.

“Hagakure-kun” Y/N said politely, tipping her head towards the other girl who rushed out a quick hello, a glove moving quickly through the air as she waved. Y/N smiled softly, her eyes slowly dragging from the gloves down to the shoes. “You ready?” Y/N asked seriously, rolling her shoulders and taking a defensive stance. “Sure am” Hagakure said cheerfully as she stripped off her gloves and shoes, throwing them off to the side. It was a good idea, making it almost impossible for Y/N to see where she would be attacking from.

Katsuki tried to follow Hagakure’s movements but from his spot he couldn’t see her footprints. Y/N sighed, relaxing her stance and closed her eyes. “What’s she doing?” Raccoon eyes whispered, leaning into Katsuki. “The hell if I know” he grumbled, scowling at the girl stood motionless in the middle of the field. “Maybe it’s to do with her quirk?” Discount Pikachu might have a point. Maybe it was some sort of enhance hearing, maybe sonar or something like that. It would explain why she was just stood there, leaving herself wide open for an attack.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open, her hand flying out and fingers seeming to curl around nothing. “Ahhh” Hagakure cried out as Y/N jerked her arm forward, stepping to the side and bringing her leg up to deliver a hard kick to what Katsuki assumed was the invisible girls back. A plume of dust rose up from where she staggered forward and for a moment the bottom of Hagakure’s legs were visible as the dust settled. Y/N smirked, kicking at the ground and sending up another dust cloud towards the girl.

What followed was five minutes of what looked like a one person fight as Y/N danced around the arena, ducking and weaving and avoiding every single one of Hagakure’s attacks. Katsuki was transfixed, watching Y/N dance around the other girl’s attacks. Her technique was flawless, a clear level of skill in hand to hand combat that outclassed half the class. She was precise with her movements, anticipating the other girl’s moves and getting hit in after hit, sending the other girl crashing to the dirt time and time again until she was covers in a thin layer of dust and her out line was visible.

Y/N dropped down, kicking her leg out and sweeping Hagakure’s legs out from under her and sent her tumbling face first onto the floor and even Katsuki winced at the sound of her knees smacking onto the floor. Y/N strode forward purposely and grabbed a fistful of the other girl’s hair. Hagakure cried out, her dirt covered hands going up to curl around Y/Ns wrist. She scrambled across the ground, trying not to fall as Y/N dragged her across the pitch and shoved her across the boundary lines.

Everyone was staring at the heap that was Hagakure, her knees bloody and breathing heavily. Wordlessly Y/N turned back and walked back to the middle of the pitch, grabbing the other girl’s gloves and shoes. By the time she got back Hagakure hadn’t moved and no one had gone to help her, everyone still just staring at her. That had been brutal, unnecessarily so but Katsuki assumed that had been the point. Mineta had been a tease and Hagakure had been a warning to all those who were yet to come. Katsuki clenched his fists, already thinking up strategy’s and counter attacks, ways to beat the girl down but he still had no clue what her quirk was and that would be a disadvantage. He would just have to not give her an opening, blast her out of the arena before she got a chance to attack.

Sighing Y/N sank to her knees, gently lifting Hagakure’s leg into her lap. She brushed some of the dust off the other girl’s foot before slipping her trainer back on. Y/N was being so gentle with Hagakure, a complete contrast to the brutal beating she just given the other girl. Katsuki scrunched up his face. What was she doing wasting time like this? The stupid girl could get her own damned self dressed. Katsuki was itching for a chance to fight Y/N and this was just waiting his time.

“You did really well out their Hagakure -kun. Your technique is impressive though I would suggest working on your defence but I would be glad to help you with that if you liked” Y/N said softly, smiling gently up at the other girl as she pulled on her other shoe and laced it up. Katsuki started at her in disbelief. What the hell was going on here? Y/N had spent three weeks avoiding everyone and refusing Katsuki every time he tried get her to spar with him yet here she was, suddenly talking to these extras like she cared about them and offering out her time. What the hell made Hagakure so special that Y/N was willing to train with her and not him?

“I, yeah. That would be great” Y/N smiles warmly at Hagakure’s whispered reply and pushed herself back up onto her feet. Y/N held out her hand for the other girl to take and helped pull her to her feet. “Enhanced hearing” Hagakure rushes out, Y/Ns eyes widen slightly in surprise. Katsuki held his breath, the rest of the class seeming to do the same. Huffing out a small laugh, Y/N turned to look up at Aizawa who had come over to stand next to them. Everyone turned their attention to the teacher, sitting up straighter and waiting to see what he would say. “Good effort though we will need to work on your tactics. Go get your knees sorted and then I want you back here for your laps”. Everyone groaned and Katsuki slumped back in his seat. There went that idea.

“Better luck next time” Y/N called over her shoulder as she went back to the middle of the pitch, smiling widely and waving at them. Katsuki was once again struck by how beautiful she was, the sunlight streaming down on her, knees covered in dirt and cheeks slightly flushed. He wondered if she would still look as beautiful after he had beaten her. “Aoyama, go”. Katsuki groaned annoyed that he was still being made to wait for his chance to knock the smug little shit off her pedestal.

What followed was over an hour of Y/N completely destroying the class. She was polite to all of them, making sure that they were ready and on occasion exchanging a few words about their level of skill but each fight always ended the same. Katsuki tried to keep track of everything so was doing but Y/N adapted and changed her fighting style depending on who she was facing. Aoyama had been easy for her to defeat, taking no more than five minutes but others like glasses and ponytail were harder, taking longer for her to force over the pitch boundary lines but in the end she did, offering each person some form of constructive criticism whilst gushing about their skills.

Each one tried to guess what quirk she had been using, throwing out suggestions like super strength, foresight, teleportation and even mind control but Aizawa shot them all down, Y/N laughing off anyone’s attempts to find out how she had beat them. Katsuki had listened to every suggestion, scoffing at some of the more idiotic ideas but seriously considering others but every time they turned out to be wrong he grew more and more frustrated to the point he was almost convinced that she didn’t even have a quirk and this was just sort of sick joke Aizawa was pulling on them.

Groaning Katsuki narrowed his eyes, watching as she effortlessly dodged Kaminari’s new attack, already starting to move out the way before he had even finished swinging his arm down. “She’s been watching us” Katsuki growled as realisation finally dawned on him. “What do you mean watching us?” Ashido said, sounding a little worried. Katsuki didn’t take his eyes off the pairs as Y/N counters Kaminari’s attack and forced him back towards the boundary lines. “Dunce face has only practiced that attack once since we have been back and that was last week during our endurance training but she knew exactly what was coming and how to avoid it. She wouldn’t know how to do that unless she had been watching us practice”. Katsuki growled the last words, angry that he hadn’t realised it sooner.

Of course she would be observing them, she seemed like the creepy type to lurk in the shadows and watch their practices like a god damned stalker. That meant she had yet another advantage over them, knew more about how they fought whilst they only knew what they had seen today. He had half formed assumptions about her style that she kept knocking down and preventing him from coming up with a solid plan and it was beginning to piss him off.

Y/N slammed her elbow into Kaminari’s chest casing him to stumble back, falling over his feet and crashing to the ground, outside of the boundary lines. “Ow” he whined, rubbing at his chest. Y/N helped pull him up, complimenting his moves and gushing about his quirk, the idiot smiling bashfully. Grunting Katsuki turned away, losing interest in their conversation. Kaminari marked number seventeen leaving just Katsuki, Deku and the half ‘n’ half bastard left and Katsuki was beginning to suspect there hadn’t been anything random about the order they had gone in because what were the chances that the top three in the class would be left till last.

At the moment his best strategy was to just go at her, delivering hit after hit in quick succession and not giving her a chance to counter or dodge, making sure to keep her as far away from him as possible. “Man that sucked” Kaminari whined as he dropped back down into his space, leaning into Kirishima who wrapped an arm around him. “At least you’re lasted longer than Sero did” Ashido leant round Katsuki to pat the other boy on the leg whilst soy sauce let out an indigent ‘hey’. Ashido whipped back round, folding her arms across her chest and levelling the other boy with a hard look. “Well it’s true”. Sero huffed mouth opening to protest but Katsuki cut him off, turning to glare at him. “What idiot gets stuck in their own tape” he barked. Sero frowned, slumping back into his seat. “I told you I don’t know how it happened” he grumbled, clearly sulking. “That just makes it worse dumb arse” Katsuki yelled, only just resisting the urge to smack the other teen round the head. They were in their final year, so close to stepping out into the world as fully fledged heroes and the idiot was still making mistakes that a preschool would do, he was lucky Y/N had just rolled him out of the pitch and not kicked him all the way there like Katsuki would have.

“Alright” Aizawa calls and Katsuki turns to look at the teacher, holding his breath in anticipation. “Todoroki you’re up”. Katsuki groaned, slumping back and tipping his head back to look up at the sky. God damned half ‘n’ half. Why did he get to go first? He probably knew what her quirk was anyway, considering how they had been all over each other, probably had even been sparing together in secret. Katsuki knew that he was probably blowing this all out of proportion, he only had what the perverted little grape had said and Katsuki had been in similar situations with Y/N himself over the last few weeks but he was angry that she had been sneaking around with the shitty candy cane at the same time.

Groaning Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut. No he wasn’t angry she was sneaking around with the other teen, he was angry that she thought she could go around playing games with him, trying to rile him up and get under his skin. Well he wasn’t going to let her. He would go out there a beat her into dust. As much as Katsuki hated to admit it half ‘n’ half was a good fighter, a good opponent and one of the closest to Katsuki’s level. Katsuki would be able to learn a lot from their fight and use it to his advantage. He hoped she kicked his area though, it would be good to see the pompous prat get knocked down a peg or two.

“Well hello handsome”. Katsuki’s head jerked back down as Y/N practically purred her greeting. Distantly he heard Mineta yell ‘I told you so’ but Katsuki was too focused on the other two. Todoroki was scowling at her as he took up his fighting stance, not answering Y/N. She smirked widely, eyes gleaming with what Katsuki thought was excitement and took up her own starting position. “Show me what you’ve got hot stuff”. She winked at half ‘n’ half and the teen actually sneered at her.

He lunged forward, throwing an arm up and sending a sheet of ice barrelling towards Y/N but for once he wasn’t quick enough, the girl dodging just in the nick of time. “You’re going to have to do better than that” she teased, grinning like a mad man. Half ‘n’ half growled at her before launching another attack.

Their fight was fast paced and full on, Todoroki sending up walls of ice and flames. Katsuki was having a hard time following the action, all the ice and Y/Ns quick movements proving difficult to focus on. It was annoying, preventing him from getting a good idea of what her quirk was though Katsuki was sure that she was getting faster, dodging the other teen’s attacks with relative ease. Something that was clearly annoying the candy cane.

She managed to dodge yet another attack, missing both a sheet of ice and wall of flames and finally getting in close to the boy but just as she was about to reach out for him Todoroki threw out his arm. She knocked it out of her way and a sheet of ice shoot up in front of the watching class, blocking them from view. “Fuck” Katsuki cursed, glaring at the thick ice. He couldn’t see anything, not even an outline.

“Hey! Ear Cord” he yelled, leaning around his friends to get the girls attention. She rolled her eyes at him, huffing out an annoyed sight. “It’s Earphone Jack” she grumbled but Katsuki ignored her. He knew what her hero name was, he didn’t need the reminder. “Make yourself useful and tell me what they’re saying” he demanded. She narrowed her eyes at him, looking like she was going to tell him no but the whole class was looking expectantly at her, round face nodding enthusiastically. With a groan she sent here ear cords into the ground and everyone fell silent.

For what seemed like the longest minutes there was nothing. No sound from the other side of the ice, no sound from the waiting class, just Jiro frowning. “Well” Katsuki growled, getting impatient with the lack of information. “Will you shut up” she hissed and Katsuki growled. How dare she talk to him like that. Getting up from his spot Katsuki took a step towards her. “You wonna go you lit...” Katsuki stopped midway through his threat as Jiro’s eyes widened, her mouth hanging open in shock as she blushed a deep read. Quickly she retracted her cords and sunk back in an attempt to hide herself behind ponytail.

“What?” he barked taking another step forward. She had heard something and Katsuki wanted to know what. She made some sort of wired choked of whine, shaking her head quickly. “It was nothing” she rushed out refusing to meet Katsuki’s eyes. Growling he took another step forward until he was in front of her. “Tell me” he growled, looming over the girl, fists clenched and smoking. “Bakugou-kun I really don’t think...” ponytail started to say, wrapping her arms around the other girl and pulling her into her chest but Katsuki cut her off, not even bothering to look at her. “Shut up. Tell me what you heard” his voice was low and menacing as he spoke and he was on the edge of threatening her to talk. He had to know what was going on, had to know what the bastard was doing so he could make sure he didn’t make the same mistakes. It definitely wasn’t because he didn’t like not being able to see what they were doing, not because he was angry that Y/N had called him handsome.

Jiro sighed, he blush still going strong but she seemed ready to talk. “She asked him if his quirk...” she was cut off by a loud bang as something, or more likely someone collided with the wall of ice, cracks creaking as they spread across the sheet. The whole class jumped, a few of the girls and dunce face gasping but not Katsuki. He turned towards the sheet of ice squinting, the dark out line of something just visible as they moved on the other side.

The thud came again, the ice cracking even more. What the hell were they doing? Katsuki could see them moving but couldn’t tell who was who, just vague shapes merging into one another as they moved around one another. Growling he clenched his fists, tempted to blow up the stupid wall just so he could see. He didn’t like not knowing what Y/N was doing with the other teen, not after finding out that they had been sneaking around together behind his back.

Katsuki jerked back at the thought, his eyes widening in surprise. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was acting like some jealous boyfriend and that was not what they were, not even close to it. She was a brat, a pain in his arse who constantly went out of her way to irritate him. He didn’t like her enough to call her an acquaintance let alone his girlfriend. He needed to get it together, start acting like himself and stop worrying about Y/N and the candy cane. It had nothing to do with him and he didn’t care what they were doing, he would beat her all on his own, they’d see.

There was a loud crash, the ice finally breaking as someone was thrown against it yet again. They came tumbling through, rolling across the dirt and coming to a stop just an arm’s length away from the boundary lines. Katsuki looked down at Y/N as she pushed herself up onto her knees. He had hit her, the shitty candy cane the first out of the glass to get her on the ground and that close to the boundary lines. Not possible, no way. She was supposed to beat this joker into the ground and move on. Katsuki was the only one in this class with the skill and power to defeat her, she was only supposed to bend to his will not the half ‘n’ half bastards.

Y/N rubbed a hand over her bloody lip, red smearing across the back of her hand. She let out a small huff of laughter, turning to face Todoroki with a wide smile. He was stood not far off, jumpsuit ripped in a few places and breathing heavily and sweating, clearly the excessive use of both his quirks starting to take its toll, but Y/N hardly had a flush to her skin, wasn’t even breathing that differently than normal. If it wasn’t for the small cut you probably wouldn’t even know she had been fighting for the last twenty minutes.

Pushing herself back onto her feet she glanced back toward the other students, her eyes almost instantly finding Katsuki’s. He felt her eyes dragging over him like a caress, his skin tingling beneath his clothes. She looked at him through hooded eyes and smirked, her tongue poking out to run across her split lip. He swallowed, eyes transfixed on the action hardly even noticing the wink she aimed at him before spinning on her heels and running full force towards Todoroki.

Wordlessly Katsuki shuffled back, dropping down into his seat. “You okay?” Katsuki grunted in reply to Kirishima, his eyes still focused on the couple out on the field. Even though he was watching he didn’t really see the rest of their fight, his mind stuck on the movement of her tongue and the hungry look in her eyes. He felt hot, hotter than normal and he could feel the faint hum of arousal running through his veins. He wanted to see that look again, preferably from above whilst she lead under him. He bet she would look good, even better if she ditched her clothes.

“Holly shit” Kaminari whispered, hand smacking against Katsuki’s chest. “Did you see that?” he said excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat. Blinking a few times to clear his mind, Katsuki slowly looked down at the hand that was gently smacking him in the chest. “Get the hell off me dunce face” Katsuki growled and instantly the other boy was snatching his hand back, laughing nervously. “Sorry man just I can’t believe it ended so suddenly. I really thought Todoroki was going to win”. Katsuki’s head snapped back, eyes wide and searching as Pikachu’s words sunk in.

Half ‘n’ half stood just outside the out of bounds lines, fists clenched and frowning at Y/N who was laughing nervously and very clearly still inside the pitch. When had that happened? How had that happened? How had Katsuki completely missed the entire last part of their match? Y/N lifted her arms above her head, lacing her fingers together and stretched. She moaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting slightly. Katsuki’s eyes fell to her naked stomach, watching as her back arched and muscles rippled with the strain. He wondered if that was what she would look like under him, moaning and gasping, arching up for more.

Groaning he slumped forward, hiding his face in his hands. That was why he hadn’t seen how she had gotten the bastard across the boundary line, too absorbed in fantasies that he had no business getting lost in. What was wrong with him? Ever since that first night he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, about her and it was driving him crazy.

Sure over the years he had thought girls were attractive, hell he though half the girls in the class were pretty hot and he was a healthy teenage boy so he was no stranger to the pleasure his own hand could bring but never had he been so fixated on one girl that he was almost constantly thinking about her to the point he was barley focussing in classes. He had a reputation to uphold, and image to protect and he couldn’t afford to be getting distracted by a pretty smile, firm arse and legs that he wanted wrapped around him as he held her up against a wall whilst he grinded against her.

Growling he gripped at his hair, tugging at the strands. He need to stop this. He was too close to finally becoming a pro to throw all his hard work away for some piece of arse, even if the body attached to said arse happened to be smart, funny and skilled. He just needed to get her out of his system and their fight would hopefully go a long way to fixing that. When he undoubtedly beat her she would scurry off to lick her wounds and he would be left alone.

“Bakugou, let’s go” Aizawa called and Katsuki’s head shot up, looking at his teacher with confusion. Looking rather unimpressed the older man jerked his head towards the filled and Katsuki turned to see what he was talking about. Y/N was stood back in the middle of the pitch, looking at him expectantly. Katsuki frowned, when had the shitty candy cane left the field? Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes as she made a come here motion with both her hands. “Well? You coming or what blondie?” she called and Katsuki jerked back to reality.

Growling Katsuki jerked up and stormed across the field, hands clenched and snarling. Vaguely he was aware of Sero saying ‘this is going to be good’ behind him and the others agreeing with him but he was too focused to let their praise really sink in and boost his already sky high confidence.

He came to a stop in front of her, snarling as he got into position. “Finally decided to join me then. Thought you were going to chicken out” she teased. Katsuki growled, fists clenching as he took a threatening step forward. “Ha! Like hell I would. Your perky arse is mine” he yelled, confident in his ability to finally be the one to push her across the boundary lines.

Y/Ns eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise on her face. It was then when Katsuki realised what he had said, his own eyes widening and a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. She smiled widely, eyes gleaming with amusement. Shit he hadn’t meant to say that, couldn’t understand why he had said it. Now she would know he had been staring at her arse, every time she bent over, when she walked in front of him, hell even when she was just stood still.

“If you want it that bad all you have to do was ask” she winked at him, dragging her tongue over her lips then sucking the edge in between her teeth and biting down on it. Shit he didn’t know where to look, what to say. His mind was stuck somewhere between watching her mouth and imagining her pulling the same face as he gripped her arse tightly and she bounced on top of him. Shit, this wasn’t the time for that. He couldn’t get hard now, not in front of her, not with the whole class there anyway.

As if sensing his embarrassment her smirk fell into a gentle smile. “Oh” she exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on her toes. “Thanks for dinner last night” she said happily, head adorably tilting to the side. Katsuki clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing and growled. “Stop eating my god damned food” he yelled angrily. Ever since that first night she had been sneaking his food out of the fridge. He had only caught her that first time but he knew it was her, Y/N never hiding the fact and making sure he knew how much she enjoyed it.

“But it tastes soooo good and you keep leaving it right there. How’s a girl to resist such temptation?” she looked so sweet, so innocent with bright eyes and an even brighter smile but the way she spoke, her tone low and teasing with just the hint of something darker, more carnal lurking underneath. Katsuki wanted to hear more of it, wanted her to whisper in his ear as she pushed up against him. “God damned suffer for all I care, just keep your thieving hands off my food”. She laughed, waving his angry words off like it was nothing and Katsuki snarled, bearing his teeth at her. “Enough bullshit! Fucking fight me already” he yelled, taking a step forward and palms sparking in his anger.

Huffing her smile fell, levelling him with a bored and unimpressed look. “Fine, have it your way blondie. Just try not to disappoint me”. As soon as she finished talking she lunged for him. Katsuki barley had time to dodge to the side, only just avoiding the punch aimed right at his face. She didn’t give him time to regain his footing, spinning round and coming for him once again.

She was quick, quicker than he had thought and stupidly light on her feet. She kept getting in close, nocking his arms away every time he tried to lift them to get a shot in, sending his explosions in the opposite directions. They dodged and weaved around one another, each one avoiding the others attacks. He wasn’t getting a hit in, couldn’t even get his hands anywhere near her to blast her back, if he didn’t do something soon he would never get an opening.

“Is that all you’ve got? How pathetic”. She sounded angry as she brought a knee up aiming for his stomach, at the same time she threw a punch, aiming for his head. He couldn’t deflect both, had to make a choice and fast. Throwing an arm up he blocked the punch, trying to bring his other arm round to block her leg but her cold fingers wrapping around his arm and holding it still. He grunted as her knee connected with his stomach, feeling like a rock was being shoved into him.

Growling he opened his palm, twisting it towards her and let off a large explosion. She let go of him, jumping back in an attempt to avoid his attack but he had been too close to miss. He smiled in triumph, knowing he had finally got a hit in along her side but the smile fell quickly as he caught sight of her. There was no mark, not even the bright pink flush of her skin getting hot. “What the hell” he whispered, the disbelief clear in his voice. How? How had she avoided his attack like that? Sure it hadn’t been that strong of an attack as he had only wanted to get her out of his space so he could do some real damage but still, there should still have been some sort of evidence of it left behind.

“Now that’s more like it” she yelled, her eyes bright with excitement. Katsuki took a step back, eyes wide as he took in the girl before him. She looked unhinged, smile wide and her hair a mess, just like a mad women and Katsuki felt like he was about to get ripped apart. “Give me everything you’ve got” she laughed as she darted forward, heading straight for him.

Growling Katsuki lifted he hands setting of explosion after explosion in an attempt to keep her back and for the most part it worked, keeping her away from him but he still wasn’t landing any hits, Y/N dodging every single one like they were nothing. She kept barrelling forward not caring about the possible damage that could befall her. As he let of a particularly large explosion his theory was conformed.

In two quick moves she was leaping through his attack, using the ground that was ripped free by the explosion as stepping stones and lunged at him. Katsuki quickly moved to the side, watching as she hit the ground rolling and sprung to her feet. The ends of her hair were singed, smudges of dirt and ash marring her flawless skin but other than that there was no mark of what she had just gone through, quite literally. That had to be it, that had to be her quirk. She could heal, that’s why she didn’t care about getting hurt and that made her dangerous.

She turned, making another dash for him and this time Katsuki didn’t hesitate. She had to have a limit to the healing and he would just have to keep pushing until she couldn’t keep it up any more. “Aghhhh” he cried running straight at her, using his quirk to propel him into the air at the last moment. He sawed above her, using an explosion to change the direction he was facing whilst bringing his other hand round and letting off another explosion at the back of her head. Y/N barley twisted away in time, avoiding the attack but Katsuki could see the way his quirk light up her eyes, the bright glow making them shine and it was stunning.

She swung round, grabbing his arm with cold hands and yanked him forward, using his own momentum to swing herself round and deliver a hard kick to the bottom oh his back. He cried out at the sudden sting of pain that shot up his back, stumbling forward. He quickly righted himself, bring his leg up as he spun round but she was ready for him, arms coming up to block his attack but he used her distraction to his advantage, bringing both hands up and aiming for her face. She leant back, tumbling back and Katsuki thought he had her but her arms went behind her and she swung her legs up, kicking his arms away and only just missing his face as she flipped backwards.

She flipped back a few times, putting some distance between them. When she came to stop she was crouched down low, one leg bent and the other outstretched to the side, a hand flat on the floor to keep her balanced. She was still smirking at him, her eyes dark almost black and despite everything Katsuki could feel his own smirk tugging at his lips. His heart was racing, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin and filling his gloves. He was having fun sparing for the first time in a long time and even though he wanted to win he didn’t want it over with just yet.

Laughing he started to run towards her, hands behind him and as he jumped he pushed himself forward with a few quick explosions. She pushed herself forward, her own laughter loud and echoing as she raced towards him. They met in a clash of fists and the loud booming bang of his quirk going off. They exchanged blows each of them getting in hits as they moved around the pitch. Dust and debris filled the air around them as he let of one explosion after another. Y/N used it to her advantage, using the chunks of ground to give height to her attacks.

Katsuki didn’t know how long they had been at it but he was starting to hurt, every time her punches and kicks made contact feeling like he was being hit by a brick wall and every time he managed to get a physical attack in it felt like he was hitting stone. It reminded him of fighting shitty hair, the way his body would harden and make it feel like his bones were going to crack every time he got a hit in.

Y/N leapt at him, spring boarding off a chunk of pitch that he had just sent flying her way. He lifted his right arm, palm opened wide and with a clear shot at her exposed stomach. It happened quickly, quicker than he could react to, his eyes widening as she sailed through the air. Her hands went to his gauntlet, forcing his hand down towards the ground as he let off his explosion. The attack gave her the momentum she needed and she flipped over his head and twisting in mid-air. Her knees connected with his back and forced him forward. Katsuki went down hard, crashing to the ground with a loud oomph.

She stayed on top of him, her legs on either side off him and sitting on his lower back. She had gotten one of his arms twisted behind his back, hand bent to force his palm against his side. The other hand she had pinned by his head, palm practically pushed against it. He was trapped, no way to use his quirk to get out of her hold without hurting himself.

Growling he turned his head to the side, glaring out across the pitch. It was destroyed, chunks missing in places and the rubble scattered across the entire arena. His class mates stared back at him, some smug and some in shock. Dunce face was leant forward, clinging onto Kirishima with a scared look on his face. His eyes dragged down the line, refusing to make eye contact until he got to Deku and the half ‘n’ half bastard. Deku looked worried, eyes wide and pleading as he clung onto the other teen, leaning forward so much that it looked like he would tumble to the ground. Half ‘n’ half was frowning, staring intently at Katsuki with a little furrow between his brows.

Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. He didn’t need their pity, didn’t need to see those stupid looks on their faces. Y/N shifted, leaning forward until her lips were next to his ear. Suddenly Katsuki was hyper aware of everywhere she was touching him, her bare arm resting against his outstretched one and her chest pressed tightly against his back and his arm digging into her stomach.

His eyes snapped open, gasping as she dragged her cold tongue along his cheek. “Ummm always so sweet” she moaned into his ear and Katsuki shivered. He should feel disgusted but some when in the last three weeks he had gotten used to it, come to expect it from her and every time they met he would be waiting for it with a mix of excitement and dread. “Get the fuck off me brat” he growled, trying to buck her off him but all it did was get her to press down harder against him. “Shame about the sour attitude” she grumbled.

“Get off” he snarled, trying to yank his arm down and out of her cold grip. She grabbed his chin with her free hand and forced his head to the side so he could look at her. “Make me” she snapped, her grip tightening to the point of being painful. He snarled, red eyes narrowed and full of anger. “You were doing so well but this is just pathetic. I thought you were supposed to be one of the top three, one of the best but it seems I was wrong”. She sounded upset, pouting at him like she had just been denied her favourite toy.

Growling Katsuki snapped at her, jerking his head back slightly to free himself of her cold hands. Seriously, why the hell was she so cold? He was getting goosebumps, his body cooling to the point he wasn’t able to produce sweat and that was not acceptable. “Like hell. I’m the god damned best here and I’m going to be number one”. He watched as a smile spread across her pink lips, the cut that candy cane had given her now completely gone. “Then prove it. Show me how much you want it hero”. Katsuki bristled at the way she said hero, that one word coming across mocking and full of distain.

What was her issue? She was in a school for heroes, a school where she would learn to become one yet Katsuki got the feeling that she didn’t really care all that much for what they were doing here. So why was she even here? Before he could ask she leant forward even more until their faces were just inches from one another. “Come on sparks, give it to me. Don’t hold back, I can take everything you can give me”. Her voice was low, only loud enough for him to hear and dripping with innuendo that had Katsuki’s mind racing with all the other situations she could be whispering those words to him.

What was wrong with him today? Never had he been this distracted before, never been this interested in someone before and at this rate he was going to combust from the need to get his hands on her. “Shut up” he growled, annoyed at his own inability to get her out of his head. He had to focus, had to get her off him so he could blast her across the pitch and be done with this shitty fight.

“I thought you were going to make me”. She laughed at the blush that he could feel spreading across his cheeks as she reminded him of the threat he had made earlier that morning. “How about a little motivation to get your head back in the game hum?” As she spoke she shifted, pressing her crotch against his arse. Katsuki sucked in a breath, once again being made aware of how close they were. He chanced another glance at his friends, their worry gone and replaced with amusement and confusion. They had been here to long, Katsuki not doing anything to get the girl off of him.

“If you win I’ll suck your dick” she whispered. Katsuki’s eyes shot open, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline as he choked on air. He could feel his dick twitch with interest, his breathing picking up and eyes stuck on her mouth as her tongue poked out to run across her lips. “What do you say hero? You beat my arse and I’ll let you own my mouth”. He actually whimpered at her words, already imaging what it would feel like. She hummed, leaning in and Katsuki was sure she was going to kiss him and he held his breath in anticipation of what was to come, forgetting where they were. Instead she turned at the last moment, ducking her head down and licked along his neck, humming as she did so. “I wonder if you’ll taste just as sweet there as you do here” she mumbled against the sensitive spot under his jaw.

Katsuki didn’t thinking, twisting the arm he had behind his back so he could press his palm against her naked thigh. His side stung as he let off a rather large explosion that was risky to use so close to his own body but it accomplished what he had been after.

With a surprised cry the girl jumped back, leaping away from Katsuki with quick agile movements. Katsuki quickly scrambled to his feet and turned on the other girl, charging towards her with an angry cry. He was angry with her for trying to distract him with something he knew he wanted and angry for himself for falling for her dirty tricks because no one would offer that kind of thing out like it was nothing and especially to someone who they didn’t even know.

Kicks and punches were thrown, explosions raining down on them as Katsuki pursued the girl with a single minded determination. His anger spurred him on, driving him to be a little more reckless than he probably should have been but he had stopped caring. He had a single minded determination to beat her and he wouldn’t give up until he was the one standing victorious.

She leapt back as Katsuki let off another attack, the blow grazing her stomach and making the skin flush red for just a few seconds. Laughing she pushed a few stray strands of hair back from where they had stuck to her forehead as she sweated. That struck Katsuki as strange, considering how cold she had been when pressed against him but now she was flushed red, sweat dripping down her brow.

“That one almost hurt but still not quite good enough blondie” she said smiling. Sighing she rolled her shoulders and head, stretching her arms out in front of her. “You know when all this is over I will be stood right here and you will be on your knees”. She said it so matter-of-factly that Katsuki almost believed her but he wouldn’t let that happen. “Like hell you would ever get me on my knees” Katsuki yelled, only realising his mistake when she winked at him. “Oh I don’t know, I can think of a few reasons why you would be”.

To hide his embarrassment Katsuki lunged for her, palms sparking as he grabbed for her. Y/N spun out of his way, effortlessly knocking his hand away as she swung her elbow up and smacked it into his jaw. Katsuki grunted as his head snapped to the side, a pain like an electric shock but ten times worse shot through his jaw and rattled through his teeth.

He twisted his arm, grabbing at her and spun on his feet, throwing her away from him. She went with it, rolling gracefully across the ground and spring to her feet. She didn’t even hesitate, running straight for Katsuki and he did the only thing he could think off. He lifted his arm, palm flat and facing towards her, sparking with his quirk. He waited until she was close to easily change direction, leaping through the air towards him and only then did he pulled the pin out of his gauntlet.

The explosion that ripped from him was large and devastating, ripping the ground to shreds but something wasn’t right. He lost sight of Y/N amongst the smoke and dust but he could have sworn he saw a shadow past by him in a blurry flash and then there was a loud bang from behind him, just seconds after his own shot went off. A burning pain shot through him as he was blasted forward, flying through the air at an alarmingly quick rate.

Using his quirk Katsuki slowed himself down, dropping back down to the ground and landing shakily on his feet. Growling he spun round, glaring back in the direction he had come from. That had been his quirk, his explosion that had sent him hurtling across the pitch but that couldn’t be possible, he had been aiming forward there shouldn’t have been any way for it to have come from behind. He couldn’t wrap his mind round what had happened, how he had ended up so far away from where he had started.

As the smoke and dust cleared he caught sight of Y/N stood motionless in the middle of the field, not a scratch on her. Growling he went to step forward, ready to end this once and for all. He didn’t know what had happened or how she had managed to avoid an attack like that but he wouldn’t let it happen again. “Bakugou that’s enough, take your seat”. Katsuki stopped, confused as to why he was being made to stop when they were both still standing.

Y/Ns shoulders relaxed, a wide and smug smile on her lips as she pointed towards her feet. Frowning Katsuki looked down, sucking in a breath as he saw where he was stood. The boundary line was just in front of him, a smudged mess but still clear as day. Katsuki dropped to his knees, defeated and full of disbelief. How? How had this happened? He hadn’t lost a fight in almost a year, he was the best after all and the best didn’t lose but somehow she had bested him. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“To bad, so sad, better luck next time” Y/N sing songed, shrugging her shoulders as if it was no big deal. Katsuki couldn’t do anything but look at the girl in a daze, struggling to understand how he had lost. “Come on man” Kirishima mumbled, slipping his arm around Katsuki and hauling him to his feet. He grunted as his friend dragged him back to his seat and he dropped down into it with a huff. “That sucks dude but that was one hell of a fight” Sero said, leaning round Ashido to pat him on the back. “Seems that perky arse was harder to get than you thought” Ashido giggled but Katsuki didn’t hear her, his mind still stuck as he went over their fight again and again, trying to work out where he had gone wrong.

“Well if it isn’t the leader of the welcome committee, ready to get your arse handed to you?” At Y/Ns teasing voice Katsuki looked up, finding Deku stood in the middle of the filed looking at her with a frown. He stood tall, head held high with a look of determination about him. “I know what your quirk is” he yelled and everyone seemed to suck in a breath, waiting for the green haired boy to answer.

Y/N laughed gently, running a hand through her hair and Katsuki lent forward as he waited to hear what the nerd had to say. The kid was smart and way to observant for his own good and Katsuki wouldn’t put it past him to have figured it out just like he had. Y/N shrugged, smiling at the green haired boy in amusement. “I knew you would, that’s why I saved you till last”.

#mha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #todobaku #bnha fanfiction #bakugou x reader #bakugou x todoroki #bnha #boku no hero academia #todoroki shouto #bakugou x fem!reader #todoroki x fem!reader #fem!reader #todoroki x reader

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duskwood-legacies · 3 years

Text

"Your Armageddon"

•Fandom: Duskwood

⚠️->Episodes 5-8 Spoiler!

•Pairing/Character: MC, MWAF (Micheal)

•Word Count: 1.1k

•Genre: Angst

•Trigger Warnings: brief mention of blood and self-hatred, mentions of death

•Summary: MC stands face to face with the place responsible for the legend that calls itself the avenger of sins. Turns out, she was just the final pawn in the MWAF’s wicked game.

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Fog strangled the forests of Duskwood in a thick grey, forbidding to let anyone gaze farther than their arms could reach. Wind forced branches to collide, wind that soon swirled into a cruel storm to leave nothing but heartless destruction in its path.

As the world seemed to be taken away by Armageddon, I stood with my feet like rooted to the ground. The raven carved into the wood was almost shielded from my vision. Almost.

“Our origin. It lies here.” A raspy, sand-paper like voice taunted my mind from behind. The unnerving sound chased the hairs on my arms and neck upwards, nausea creeping into my throat.

“Is that why you brought me here, Micheal?” My own heartbeat nearly deafened me.

“Do not call me by my name.”

I shivered as I captured the calm tone inside his words. People possessing such calmness within such madness. They were dangerous. By far beyond dangerous. Rain crashed down like cascades, perfecting the chaos menacing around us, flooding homes of animals and drowning out hopes.

“We are one.” Micheal spoke.

“We…?”

“We. Every Man Without A Face before me, every Man Without A Face to follow after me. We share the same memories of your sins, we share the same curse.” Micheal’s voice darkened with each word spoken.

“But— But this is just a legend-“

“Naive girl.” His calmness began to fade away into the depths of hatred. “We are bound to this universe. We are the avengers for your sins. We are the justice. We are the misunderstood!”

I winced at the sudden loudening of his words. My veins pulsated with hot blood run cold, thoughts going numb with each passing dulled second. My airways tightened with an invisible rope swung around my neck.

“Ask MC.” Micheal’s voice bore into me “Ask. Ask! Ask what’s been haunting you!”

“Why?!” I shouted “Why Hannah?! Why Richy?! Why YOU?!”

I couldn’t see him, but I knew, I felt it. The sickening grin of success, securely hidden under his mask burned on my back, ill sensations diving into my spine.

“Jennifer!” Micheal pressed out, pained inside his neglected soul, relieved to say her name again. “Her death brought this curse upon me! Hannah and Richy watched her life cease from this world! They left her to die, allowed her murderer to run free!”

“They were only kids!” My shout matched a screech.

“Death knows no age!” A tree crashed into the ground behind us. The ominous loud thump hunted ravens out of their shelter, towards the one and only person their loyalty belongs to. My arms flung up and crossed in front of my head to protect my face. Micheal’s furious voice kept burning its way into my brain.

“Her death tore my life apart! Her death allowed the curse to seep into my cracked soul!”

“How is that possible?” I tried to mask my fright with half-hearted compassion.

“You don’t understand?! We were emotionally bound the strongest to those who fell victim to the cruelest of sins! We avenge our loved ones and protect those who can’t protect themselves!”

“By robbing lives?! You are committing sins yourself!”

“That is why we are the victims of our successors. This curse is Duskwood’s hell circle.”

Tears edged my eyes. Memories I couldn’t repress longer found their way back to torture my consciousness. The storm howled louder as the trees whipped into all directions with immeasurable violence. My knees started to feel light under the hectic of the unforgiving insanity those gone-by moments brought back to me.

“Do you feel the sting? The burn? The pain under your skin?” Micheal’s voice mixed psychopathy and lunacy as well as calmness and peace. With a weak spark of agitated success. “Do you hear their voices? Do you see their faces pleading you for help? Do you run from the guilt your sins have brought you? Do you see what monster you encouraged me to become?”

Thunder boomed through the fighting trees. I cried out in despair, broke under the suspense and agony he put me under as I bailed down onto my knees. My hands covered my ears, praying I’d somehow be able to shut his voice out before they reach my brain.

The sweet feelings of his achievement soothed Micheal’s wrath. His mind cleared as he saw his goal unfold in front of him like a dahlia in July.

The sound of branches breaking mixed with the loudness of rain, storm and thunder, becoming clearer and clearer the more Micheal stalked closer to me. I clutched my hands around my ears, with an intensity strong enough to make me hurt myself.

Micheal crouched down behind me. One of his hands grabbed my wrist and moved it away from my ear, easily fighting against the resistance I had attempted put up.

“Answer me, MC.”

I did. Day by day I ran from myself, hated when I saw my reflection, punched a mirror to shatters and watched my knuckles bleed until I could walk again. Every day the images of Richy would restrain my mind with shackles, guilt and helplessness charging and tackling me down the second the image unlocked their door.

“Crying. The silence of the sinners.” Micheal hummed. I didn’t notice I started sobbing.

“You mentioned Hannah and Richy… why me… why are you after me?”

“You have helped murderers. You willingly put people in danger for your own goals. You are powerfully bound to someone who has Duskwood’s blood inside their veins. You are the perfect victim. You are the final sin to separate me from my curse.”

My head pounded with distress. I pleaded for everything to be a nightmare, for the cold of the rain on my skin to be imagined, for the thunder in the sky to be a loud neighbor cutting into my dreams, for the storm to be a mask of my guilt.

The sentences resonated in my mind, bouncing and leaving a dull ache everywhere they touched my being. My parents weren’t from Duskwood. Neither of them had connections to the forgotten village within the lost forest.

My eyes went wide and a sudden inhale filled my lungs as realization came to me.

Jake.

Micheal yanked my head upward by my hair. A thunderbolt struck the tree in half, the spot scared with the raven splitting into two. Merciless heat of fire graced against my freezing skin, a high-pitched ringing consuming my ears. A cold metal blade pressed against my throat as I felt Micheal get closer to my ear one last time.

“This is your Armageddon, MC.”

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A/N: Hi!💕 This post was rather unplanned since I didn't want to post too much Angst, but I've had this idea for a while now and reading the story of @neptunee has given me so much motivation, I couldn't resist🤭🌿 I hope the stories don't share too much similarities, I promise if anything appears copied I didn't do it on full on purpose!

#duskwood fanfiction #duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood mc #duskwood player #duskwood mwaf #duskwood mc x mwaf #everbyte studio

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forcefully-awoken · 3 years

Text

this was meant to be a really short snippet for his birthday but apparently i love jean more than i realized.

jean kirstein x plus size f! reader

wc: 1.7k

cw- a little manhandling, face sitting, unprotected sex, breeding kink? i think that should be it

the first time jean sees you, several things happen at once.

his heart skips a beat, he thinks he falls in love, he thinks he understands the meaning of life. he flirts with the idea of leaving the scouts, doing whatever it takes to stay here, to meet you and have you fall in love with him. he sees the rest of your life together, the marriage and children and stability.

then, the moment passes. you smile up at him, asking if you’re in his way. his heart seizes up and shatters in his chest. in his way? as if you’re not the only way he wants to go. jean manages to clear his head, his throat next, and he manages to speak to you.

and it’s easier than he ever could have imagined, falling in love.

it comes with the worst pain he’s ever felt when he has to go back out on a mission. it’s not just leaving you behind but the way everything seems to scare him now, the way he hesitates and weighs his actions in ways he never has before. his goals have shifted, plain as day to anyone else. he no longer wants to protect humanity above all.

he just wants to get back to you.

the homecomings are his favorite part.

he no longer returns to the barracks, he goes straight to you. you’re a dream to see, all thick thighs and plump stomach. you have dinner even waiting for him but he can only think of you now. of how you sound, of how you look under him, or over him.

“missed you,” he manages to mumble out before pressing his lips into yours. your mouth falls open, welcoming his tongue inside as his arms wrap around you. he can feel you tense, still so insecure despite his love. he groans, feeling the way your stomach presses into his, “want you.”

“but what about, ohhh,” your words break off into a whine as his lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, right where it meets your shoulder, “what about dinner? aren’t you hungry?”

“yes,” he says, seriously and solemn, “for you.” the way you laugh sends his heart racing in ways a titan never has. his arms go lower, hands dipping under your ass, groping and squeezing the fat of it. his hands grip tight, tugging your thighs up.

“please,” you whisper, pulling away just a bit, “i’m too heavy.” it’s a refrain he’s heard over and over again, one he can’t wrap his head around. you’ve voiced your insecurities to him before but he’s always brushed them off.

tonight, it seems, he’ll have to drive the message home.

“wrap your arms around my neck,” his voice is gentle but firm now, leaving no room for argument. you worry at your bottom lip but do as you’re told.

“jump a little, wrap your legs around my waist,” your eyes widen but you can’t deny jean anything. as soon as your legs are around him he’s on the move, walking to where he knows your bedroom is, talking the whole time.

“do you feel how hard i am for you?” as if you couldn’t, pressed up against him like this. he’s painfully hard, grinding up against your clothed cunt with every movement, “i fight titans for a living. do you think i can’t carry you?”

“n-no?” your voice is so small when he drops you onto the bed, he almost feels bad. the feeling lasts only a moment when he sees you in front of him like this, wide eyed and thighs pressing together already. your hair is already a bit messed up and it only serves to drive him wilder.

“take your clothes off,” his voice is so strained it sounds foreign to his ears, but you obey. your shirt and undergarment are off with one tug, your skirt and underwear in the next moment. you can’t quite meet his eye, but that’s okay for now. he slowly unbuttons his shirt, just because he likes the way your eyes follow his fingers, greedily taking in each new inch of skin.

the adoration that’s written openly across your face is still something he’s getting used to.

the shirt drops to the floor as he joins you on the bed, laying down next to your naked body. he gets comfy, and lets his hands find your thick waist again, pulling and tugging before vocally voicing his want.

“sit on my face,” his lewd words are worth it for the way your eyes widen even more, and your mouth drops open. it seems to have struck you dumb because you’re silent until you’re over his face, and his grip shifts to your thighs to pull you down.

“what if i smother you?” your voice is soft, breaking when you hear the moan he gives out looking at your already wet cunt.

“then, i’ll die the happiest man alive,” he doesn’t give you the chance to reply to him, immediately diving into you. his tongue licks up your folds, making sure to savor the way the taste of you explodes into his mouth. he thinks this is his favorite flavor in the world. his tongue moves upwards, swirling over your clit until he hears the moans falling out of your mouth.

he manages to pull your legs apart more, just enough to push his tongue inside of you and drag it forward, searching for the spot he knows will have you seeing stars. one hand moves to rub at your clit, just enough pressure to have you shaking on top of him.

“jean!” you’re so loud, your neighbors must hate him but he can’t find it in him to dare at all when your fingers tangle in his hair to pull him even closer. he’s surrounded by you, you overwhelm his senses in the best way. he thinks he might die like this, actually, so unable to think or function.

he can feel your thighs tense, the way your cunt starts to flutter around his tongue and he knows you’re getting close. jean chases your high more intensely than he does he own, almost pleading with his movements as he tries to ruin you.

“s-stop,” you whimper out and he does, though it almost physically pains him to do so.

“you were close,” a statement, not a question.

“i was but i wanted to…”from this angle he can see the way your eyes flutter shut, arms wrapping around your stomach, “on your cock.” your words alone are enough to send a painful spike of pleasure right through him. it’s the only reason he lets you down off his face. jean finds his hands trembling as he rids himself of the rest of his clothing. you go to lay down now and he tuts.

“ride me or not at all,” and this time there’s a smile on your face when you climb on him. he takes his cock in his hand, jerking it a couple times before running it through your folds, giving your clit a tap with the head just to watch you jump. he doesn’t tease you too much though, head already swimming with just the memory of what it’s like to be inside of you.

as you drop down into his cock, slowly as possible, he thinks he would stop you. grab a sketchbook and just go, wanting to keep the look on your face as fresh in his mind as possible when he’s away. your eyes are glassy, tears dotting your lashes, lips open in a perfect little o. your arms are pressed closed to your chest, pushing your breasts back, giving him a view of your stomach and cunt as you sink down.

he wanted to let you set the pace but as soon as your ass glances over his thighs as he bottoms out in you his hands are coming up to grip your waist. taking the flesh tight between his fingers he just can’t help himself from bouncing you up and down on his cock. your arms drop down, holding onto him where you can. you’re sobbing out your pleasure now, tears falling down the plump apples of your cheeks.

“jean!” you cry out, and he doesn’t think his name has ever sounded sweeter. one hand drifts, fingertips finding your clit. he means to circle it again, but then your cunt tightens almost painfully around him and he finds himself just pressing down on it. the pleasure of it overwhelms you now, and you can’t find your voice to tell him you’re cumming, it’s too much, you think it’s so much.

jean understands though, with the way your pussy is milking him now, the way your body collapses on top of his. you’re twitching when your chest meets his, but he doesn’t stop moving you.

“i’m so close, baby,” he comforts you when you whine with over sensitivity. his hips stutter, lose all rhythm completely when he hears you speak in a tired voice-

“cum inside me.”

whatever semblance of control he has snaps at that, thrusting up into you with abandon, planting his feet on the bed to go even deeper. he thinks he might the crying one now, so consumed with the thought of it.

“yeah? want me to cum inside of you?” he asks, only gets moans in response, “want me to fill you up? give you a baby?” it’s always been on his mind, dancing in the shadowy future he thinks he could have. all you can do is nod, try to plead with him to give you what you want.

and he does, burying himself in as deeply as possible before cumming, more than he thinks he ever has in his life. he can’t help the way he shakes now, holding you so close he doesn’t know where you end and he begins.

“did you mean it?” he asks after a few moments, as if he could take it back.

“yes,” comes your reply, shy and sweet with a hint of fear lingering in it, “i want your children. i want you.”

he decides, then and there, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep coming home to you.

#jean kirsten x reader #tw manhandling #tw face sitting #tw unprotected sex

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regulusfate · 3 years

Text

One loose thread doesn’t take the roll down

Hinny

Prompt : You’re safe now, I’m with you .

Requested by @alwaysmagica1 <3

the title is playing on the idea one bad day doesn’t mean they all will be.

It had meant something different once, to be safe. To be safe. It had been a thousand and one possibilities, of testing boundaries, of warmth, of a breath of fresh air and her falling body and his solid arms, like an anchor.

Somewhere that had changed for both of them, she wasn’t entirely sure when she stopped being scared of that thought, or if she ever had. Even there, in the light of the lampshade watching the over the marks of their children’s presence scattered across the living room, the handprints of paint etched into the walls, the toys knocked beneath the table, there came a hint of unsettlement within her chest.

Not quite placeable, the word danced between her tongue and her teeth, on the edge of spilling over like drops of red fine wine against a cream carpet, she never could find the right word for it. An ache, yes, and her fingers massaged through the cotton of her top to the callous skin, an ache but the feeling that came with it detached like a half formed thought cast to the fringes of her mind.

She wonders when they became so complacent. How they could forget so quickly, the world in all its fragile glory, the single tap of one man to shatter the globe encasing them.

It was dangerous, to pretend so sullenly, that life had moved on as though it could never happen again and yet, they all forget, their war had not been the first.

Her husband doesn’t forget. He cannot, and she will not, tracing the scars on his chest and the blackened edges of numb flesh where he could not feel, those long term effects of evading death and that striking curse.

She sees Harry. Not the boy who saved her in the chamber, but the man that built a pillow fought with his kids. Not the war hero still fighting in the ranks of the ministry, but the man who kissed her freckles ‘like the stars’, and plays with her hair, and that body that holds her close under the sheets.

They are a reliance on each other, letting the world drift in its complacency, they are upon their own mound of earth, a whole other wave.

sixth year

“Weasley !”

The sun struck the air and it dazzled, as she weaved through the beams cast her way as the blue of the ocean sky seemed to shimmer, froth on water.

Ginny laughed, billowing up from her lungs into the breathless air, embracing the rush. Harry lunged for her, their bodies swooping, swooning, clambering through the clouds about the sea of green and tiny etched houses. He missed. Their game of cat and mouse.

“You know for someone with an ‘elegant disposition’ on a broom-“

She laughed harder, arching out of his stretching hands, pitching her voice to mimic the report of the latest witchly weekly article, and his face fell into horror pulling his broom up short.

“You read that!”

The mortification in his voice and it cracked an octave higher. Ginny grinned, the wind brushing through her hair.

“Did you know you have an elegant disposition Mr Potter?”

She teased and his eyes sparkled despite the groan from his lips, their chests heaving with pleasure and panting breaths and flushed cheeks.

“Did you always want to be a poet, Miss Weasley?”

Harry quipped back and she choked on the breeze that cascaded her hair in waves of sparks.

“I was eleven !”

“Are my eyes still as green as a fresh pickled toad?”

He laughed, and Ginny scowled, watching his head tip back and eyes flutter closed, the soft cylinder of his giggles echoing in the breeze.

“Is my hair truly as dark as a blackboard?” Harry wheezed

It was quickly followed by a yelp, as he narrowly avoided a strike to the head. Darting forwards, he soared away, and she snatched up the quaffle once more.

“Don’t throw it at my face !”

“Scared to mess up that nose?” She teased back, and they were chasing through the clouds and the sunlight sky.

“Hey it’s straighter than Eloise Midgen’s”

Spurring her broom forwards, his voice tailing back, and she smirked

“Let’s see that elegant disposition then, I’ve always wanted a moving target”

“This is harassment, Weasley,” the distance closed between them, her eyes narrowed on his mop of hair, and he took a sharp left closer to the trees.

“Only until you forget the poem-“ Ginny warned, half teasing though her eyes were bright and smiling as her lips twisted into a determined frown.

“His eyes are as green as fresh pickled toad.”

Harry chanted with a bubbling laugh, dipping between the clouds

“Keep talking Potter !”

“At least I have a Hungarian horntail on my chest”

She snorted, thrown off guard by the sudden change, her hand slipped against the polished handle of the broom as a rogue bludger spun her way and she fumbled, off balance and unable to keep a hold as she veered to the side.

Falling was second nature to quidditch, but still a surprised noise escaped her lips as the air pushed past her, and her fingers gasped at nothing, as though the wind was fighting against gravity and losing and sinking and her hand would not reach her wand in time.

She didn’t want to die.

And then arms snatched at her waist, forcing the final breaths of oxygen from her lips in a startled jerk that bruised her ribs, and she was latching on to the stable body that kept her afloat. Something that might have been a laugh but detached from her ears and a tinge of hysteria as her fingers wound into the shirt and the world was burry in front of her eyes, woozy and sweeping, but she knew those arms as her chin connected with his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Harry murmured, a different chant, more to appease his own racing heart as his feet touched the ground gently but he didn’t attempt to remove his arms and for that Ginny was glad. She needed that anchor against her own pounding heartbeat.

“You’re safe now, I’m with you.” He mumbled, and she felt the soft graze of his lips pressing against her head as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Holy crap, Ginny I’m so sorry !”

Fred, his voice bursting forwards like a galloping horse and she could move again, the leaded feeling that weighted her legs seeped as they finally pressed fully into the grass.

“You’re an ass.” She snaps, voice partially muffled by Harry’s shoulder.

Fred’s face crumpled from horror to a kicked puppy, and Ginny sighed, not removing herself from his arms but twisting her neck to meet his eyes.

“It’s fine, it’s not the first time.”

His face remained plastered in worry, until a smirk lept on to her face.

“I’m fine,” her smirk grew wider “but I think you just gave mum a heart attack.”

His eyes snapped round to meet Molly Weasley white face in the doorway and gulped. His lips moved inaudible for a moment before his eyes found George with a pleading look. ‘Save me Georgie’

It was only when Molly’s yells began from the muted walls of the burrow, did she pull away, and met Harry’s own pale face with curious brown eyes, that bordered on teasing once again.

“I’m really sorry-“

“What did you mean?” He blinked, taken aback and frowned in confusion.

“You’re safe now , I’m with you?”

The colour returned full force to his cheeks, a blush riding up and he shifted awkwardly for a moment with a bashful shrug.

“I- I dunno” he mumbled sheepishly

“Okay then , Mr Chosen One,” she grinned and grabbed his hands, intertwining their fingers and moving towards the burrow and he groaned.

She was never letting him live it down.

There’s a shadow at the door, a creak and he’s stood there. It’s always his eyes. Brimming with an expanse of pain and loss and his fingers jumped against the side of his leg even as he shifted weight. His throat moved beneath his skin, swallowing in air, swallowing in silence. His lips not fully closed, she knows he wants to say something, anything, she can feel the tightness of his voice just in the shuddering breath he clambered to retain.

“You’re up late,” Ginny offered gently, and a part of her wished his face would crack into that roguish godforbid sexy smirk, stride forwards and tug her up against chest with an arching eyebrow. She wants to hear his low husky ‘maybe I was waiting for you’ breathed down her neck.

She wants it, because she knows the pain that takes hold is so much worse.

“Well I-“ he bites the inside of his cheek, and turns his head. His voice is rough, but it’s grating behind the force of every swallowed scream battering in his dreams and she can see his eyes blinking, the sharp line of his jaw in the light softened by the growth of his beard and jumping in place.

“Hey,” Ginny rose silently, into the shadows of the room and slips her fingers into his larger ones. They shake slightly against her. “Harry.”

He shakes his head for a moment, the muscles in his face gripping at his skin for control and she sees the blink of his eyelashes, thrice, before he folds into her embrace. His beard is ticklish against her neck, as his head presses into her shoulder and his arms curl tightly and Ginny knows he’s clinging to the heartbeat.

She reaches through his tense and tightening biceps to rub his back. His hair smelt of roses, it’s soft petal texture, feathered against her cheek, she liked it. His hair always seemed to smell of roses.

“Hey , hey it’s okay.”

He shudders, and her fingers find gently into the soft locks. The muscles in his back tense, rolling like the cup of raindrop slipping down the veins of dying leaves, and a sob follows.

“You’re safe now,” Ginny whispered, and he presses closer. “I’m with you.”

The always is left unsaid , but she knows he hears it. For a long moment they are simply held in an embrace, his body and hers, intertwined in limbs and a shared grief.

“You’re with me,” he mumbles, “you’re with me, you’re with me”

A pause, and her chest aches more to take his pain away. He pulls back first, pressing a sleeve to his eyes with another shaking breath, and exhaling slowly. She keeps a hand on his back rubbing up and down, as her mother had done , as he had done to her.

Ginny doesn’t ask if he wants to talk about it, as they gravitate slowly towards the sofa where there’s light cast out of the shadows and their tired bodies slump into the cushions. She doesn’t need to ask. They told each other everything they could , some things had taken years to speak of, others only seconds. Sometimes it would be silence, times where neither one will speak of what came crashing, tearing through their mind, it’s a story for another day.

Harry rubs a hand down his face, their knees touching, legs almost overlapping, and torso’s inclined towards each other. He leans an arm on the top of the sofa, and his fingers brush lightly over the scar , that scar , that ripples through his skin. He does it automatically, and sometimes purposefully. It’s strange how they could find comfort in the things that haunted them most.

“I’m scared for them.” He speaks after a while, and she fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.

Them being the kids and Ginny knows he means, that ever present fear that their children should grow and witness the same horrors they had seen, as their parents had before them.

“James is almost five,” and the number comes out almost breathless, as if he can’t quite wrap his head around it, a wistfulness and a yearning. She sighs and moves, and he accepts the gesture instantly, opening his arms and she curls up against his chest.

It’s not something she likes to think about, truthfully.

“I’m scared too,” Her hand rubs against his chest, watching the creases in his shirt. “But our babies are growing up, and we get to see that.”

He hums, and she moves to glance upwards and meet Harry’s eyes, still those beautiful green.

“We get that.” Ginny whispers, and the echo of a smile wraps around his lips as his fingers drift up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We do.” He murmurs, like clarification and they lean into the touch the other offers instinctively. Her head presses back against his chest, and his fingers wind their way through her hair and they’ve stopped shaking now.

“I saw you in the mirror this morning,” it’s been plaguing her all day.

“Oh?”

She can almost hear the smile in voice now, and relaxes a little more.

“You’re not getting rid of the beard.”

A deep chuckle reverberates from his chest though soft into the quiet of the house and she grins.

All was , sometimes , well . They could live with that .

#post war hinny #hinny #hinny prompt #harry potter #hp golden era #hp next gen #hp fandom #hinny fanfic #harry and ginny #hp fanfic #post wizarding war #I’ve realised I’m not actually sure when in sixth year this could have happened #but let’s just go with it anyway

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azurethevampire · 3 years

Text

Mando’s Lessons to Parenting Special: The Gift

A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

The Mandalorian won the vote for Christmas fic 2020 by one vote so here we are - I hope you enjoy! :)

As there isn't really Christmas in the Star Wars universe I have taken the liberty to play around with Life Day which I see as the closest equivalent to Christmas in the Star Wars universe.

Summary: Life Day is closing in and you are determined to get both The Child and Mando the perfect gifts. The little one's gift is easy enough but the closer the holiday comes the more frustrated you grow as you can't figure out a gift that would be good enough for Mando. But Din Djarin just might give you the best present yet.

Words: 2017

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

"A hundred!?"

"Yes."

"For, for this piece of scrap?!"

The salesperson glared at you at that. "Listen, you aren't happy with my prices-", they yanked the metallic item out of your hands with more force than necessary, "take yourself elsewhere. You're ruining my good day."

You narrowed your eyes and grit your teeth. You had to close your eyes, take a deep breath and force yourself to turn around from the booth - which declared itself as the perfect gift shop - to stop you from entering a shouting match with the salesperson.

How were you ever going to buy a gift for Din Djarin when it seemed every single salesperson in this town had such upscale prices for little pieces of junk?! You didn’t have that much money on you as it was and the last thing you wanted to do was borrow credits from Din. It would have been just plain wrong to use Din’s own money to buy him a gift for Life Day.

“Ugh”, you groaned and kicked a rock out of your path. Why was this so hard now? You had had no trouble finding a gift for the little green monster that you had claimed as your brother. Why was Din’s gift so difficult? It seemed that every single thing that you even considered was either too expensive for you or just wasn’t the right gift.

The sound of something shattering made you look up, eyes widening. Seeing that the stone you had kicked had hit a clay pot in front of a home, you halted and then groaned.

You thought about turning around. It didn't seem like anyone had noticed you had kicked the rock. You could just turn around, run from the scene and continue your gift searching.

But you couldn't do it; even if it weren’t for the hands that suddenly landed on your shoulders you most likely would have gone up to the house and apologized to its owner for breaking their property.

"I hope you didn't do that on purpose, kid."

You craned your neck backwards to look up at Cara Dune whose hands gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze.

"I didn't", you answered honestly, although there was an underlying tone of bitterness that Cara caught on.

The former mercenary turned sheriff frowned. "Alright, kid, we are gonna go up there and pay for the damage in a moment, but first you are going to tell me what's going on with you."

The woman lifted a finger as you opened your mouth protest. "Ah-ah, before you tell me that 'nothing' is going on, I suggest you take into consideration that I know you kid and this is not you."

You huffed and crossed your arms. "Fine." You said. "I can't find a gift good enough for him."

"Who, Mando?"

"Yeah", you nodded. "Everything I even consider ends up being way too over-prized! I will never find a gift for him in time for Life Day by this rate!"

Cara patted your head. "You take this thing way too seriously kid; have you considered that perhaps the best gift to our friend from you would be something self-made?"

"...self-made?" you repeated, seemingly dumbstruck.

How come you hadn't thought about that? Making something to Din would indeed be a perfect gift! What else could be both affordable and show how much the man meant to you?

Suddenly you grinned and were quick to hug Cara around the waist. "Thank you! You gave me the perfect idea, Cara!"

The former stormtrooper grabbed you by the scruff of your neck when you tried to dash away from her. "Kid, as glad as I am to help you, we had a deal, remember?"

You looked up at her sheepishly. "Sorry. I will go and apologize for breaking the vase."

•-•-•-•-•-•

The Mandalorian had never really celebrated Life Day. Never had any reason to do so.

Now he found himself indulging his two charges and especially the older one. He barely admitted it to himself (he certainly was not going soft) but Din quite enjoyed seeing the way your face lit up when you got the permission to hang up some light strips around the Razor Crest's living area along with some other ornaments you and the kid had managed to dig up from somewhere.

Wanting to give the kids something better on this day that so clearly meant a lot to you, Din had made an effort to buy you all a more festive meal. It was no tip-yip but it was the best substitute he could afford. Of course, he would only watch you and the kid eat and would help himself for whatever his two little troublemakers left for him after you would fall asleep.

"Wow! This is so good!" You exclaimed once you were seated around the table on Life Day eating the meal Din had gotten for you. The child across from you made happy agreeing noises as he munched his own food.

"I'm glad you like it, kids."

"Are you kidding, Mando? This's gotta be the best meal I have had for a while", you said. "You gotta try this!" you insisted, pushing a plate towards the Mandalorian.

Behind the cover of his helmet, Din Djarin grimaced.

He knew that you had not meant anything malicious with those words but it struck him right to his heart for two reasons. One, because he was trying to do his best by both of the kids who had managed to sneak their way into his heart but initially he knew that the life he had to offer you was far from the best you and The Child could have with someone else. Two: you jested to him about his helmet most of the time but lately the jabs meant to be light had only managed to make Din feel bad.

He knew how much he meant to you. For crying out loud, you had accidentally called him dad a while ago - not that you seemed to remember and he wasn't about to remind you even if he sort of wanted to.

You two little rascals had come to mean the world to him, so why couldn't he take his helmet off in front of you?

"Okay!" Your voice interrupted the Mandalorian's train of thought. You sounded both excited and nervous as you pushed your now empty plate away from you. "It's time for the gifts!"

Gifts?!

Dank farrik, I forgot about the presents!

You proceeded to take out two messily wrapped boxes from under the table, one being significantly smaller in size than the other.

The Child tilted his head curiously as you passed him the smaller one. "Happy Life Day, brother", you wished and then helped him unwrap the gift.

It revealed a small metallic ball, much similar to the one from the cockpit that The Child loved to play with, Din noticed. And if the happy babbling noises The Child made indicated anything, he enjoyed his gift.

"And uh… this is for you, Din", you said next, obviously nervous and pushed the larger of the gifts towards the Mandalorian.

His hands automatically wrapped around the package but he didn't open it yet, looking at you instead. "Y/N…" he began, somewhat hesitating. What if you got mad at him for not having a gift in return? "I'm sorry but I forgot about the gifts - I don't have one for you."

"...oh", you said, and Din didn't like the fact that he couldn't make out if it was a disappointed 'oh' or a neutral one. But then a small smile appeared on your face. "It's okay, I- you agreeing to celebrate today with us is a gift enough for me."

No, it is not. It shouldn't be, Din thought but said nothing and only bobbed his head slowly.

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" you asked with a frown.

The Child also looked at the Mandalorian with a questioning, almost demanding look. Din Djarin let out a chuckle, slightly altered by his voice modulator. "Alright, kids, I'll open it,” he relented.

What the wrapping revealed made Din Djarin’s eyes sting and his vision blurred a bit. It was not the best artwork he had seen in his life but at the same time, it definitely was the most beautiful one.

You had excelled yourself this time. He wondered how long it had taken you to make this.

From behind his visor, Din looked at three self-made figurines with blurry eyes. They were standing on a small round pedestal made of moss and small rocks. The tallest figure wore an armor resembling his beskar one and was holding a bundle of green with one arm as the other was wrapped around the shoulders of a figurine of a little girl.

On the bottom edge of the rock pedestal was carved one word, a word that Din didn't even know you knew; Aliit.

Family in Mando’a.

Was this the your way of telling him that this was how you saw Din? How you saw the three of you?

Suddenly Din realised that both of the children were looking at him. There had been a smile on your face but as the seconds dragged by and Din hadn’t said anything the smile faded.

“I- I can make you a new one if you don’t-”

“No!” Din said, maybe a bit louder than was necessary, startling both of the kids as you jumped slightly in your seats. “No, Y/N”, he said next, in a gentler tone. “... it’s…” he tried to search for a word that would convey how much this gift had managed to move something inside him but he didn’t know such word, and he cursed himself for it. Instead he reached out and took your hand in his, squeezing it. “Thank you, kid.”

The smile returned to your face and Din felt relief wash over him.

This was how it was supposed to be: his kids were supposed to be happy.

Din carefully lifted the group of figurines from the table. “I know the perfect place for it.”

“Yeah, what is that?” you asked, now curious.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, kid”, Din said, his voice having a playful edge to it.

•-•-•-•-•-•

“Thank you, Din.”

The Mandalorian pushed your hair behind your ear. It was nighttime, and the Child had already fallen asleep in the middle of playing with his new toy. After all these months, Din Djarin still marvelled at how it had become a mundane routine for him to tuck you kids in your beds before laying down himself.

“I should be thanking you, kiddo.”

You frowned. “For what?”

For giving me a family I didn’t know I needed, he thought, but couldn’t make himself to say it. “For showing me the meaning of Life Day.”

“Oh”, you said. You pat his armor-covered arm a few times. “You’re welcome.”

No, this didn’t cut it, Din thought. He should be able to give you something. Something that you would - could - hold valuable. But you would fall asleep soon and the moment would be gone.

Then it struck him.

He could give you the perfect Life Day gift after all. Something that you had wanted as long as you had known him.

“Hey kiddo?” You hummed in response as you had already closed your eyes. “Don’t go to sleep yet. I have something for you.”

“Wh-what?” you mumbled, drowsily opening your eyes again. You pushed yourself to sit and let your eyes fall on the Mandalorian.

For a few seconds, Din Djarin hesitated but then his hands moved to the sides of his helmet.

Your eyes widened as you understood what he was about to do.

And Din Djarin removed his helmet for the first time in front of you, letting you see the face that you had so long been begging to see.

“Happy Life Day, kid”, he said softly.

You teared up and all you could do was to stare at him in the eyes you had dreamed to see on so many occasions.

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glacialltz · 4 years

Note

hi ,, can i request some pining hcs for the diasomnia boys please ?? 👉👈- ☁️☁️

Cloud Anon!!! It’s such a nice thought that god herself descended from the heavens to my humble little bakery. I had to put a lot more effort into these sweets, so I really do hope you enjoy. I had a lot of fun writing them 💗. I do hope I followed the recipe enough and they’re “pining”-y enough. Please, don’t hesitate to tell me your review afterwards. I hope the taste is to your liking 💞🍰I have a hard time writing for the Disaomnia boys, so I hope it’s alright~~ It’s a bit long, so I’ll add in a read more after Malleus~~

Malleus could remember the night he met you perfectly.

He could remember the crispness of the cool air, the reflective light of the moon, and the sight of the cold, grey gargoyles perched on the edges of the school.

He could remember the sight of you too. Your flushed cheeks and rapidly rising and falling chest, coupled with your ragged breaths, gave away the fact that you had been desperately running through the courtyard, trying to find your pesky little friend, Grim.

He was surprised, to say the least, to see someone other than himself out at such an hour.

However, his surprise increased when, instead of shying away from him like most other students did, you smiled at him - a sincere and joyful smile spreading across your face as you looked at him.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - this little human, so small and frail compared to the likes of him, had decided to stay by his side for the night in order to talk to him.

“I don’t think I’ve met you before!” you had said. “My name is….”

The next night, he expected to be alone once again. Only himself and the gargoyles to keep him company. However, his expectations were, once again, shattered.

There you sat, in the same place he had met you the previous night, but this time, you held a dainty flower crown in your hands.

“These purple hyacinths would look so pretty on you! Look, I made it special; it’ll fit around your horns!”

He could remember the way his heart squeezed at the sight - this little, fragile human, who was not only unafraid of him, unlike the other students, had not only returned to his company, but had brought such a sweet gift for him? He was….touched.

He could remember how over the next few days, the two of you met up more and more. You talked with him. Openly, and around the other students. You didn’t mind the weird looks you got. The weird student who talked to the terrifying Malleus Draconia. When was the last time someone outside of Diasomnia had done that?

He could remember the way his heart longed for you when you weren’t by his side. The way he couldn’t wait to talk to you again, hear your sweet, musical laugh, or see your bright, almost blinding smile.

Lilia had taken it upon himself to start teasing him, saying he had a crush, or that he was “pining” for you. He didn’t understand what Lilia had meant, at least, not then. Was it a crush? Was he pining? Was he just grateful to have a friend?

As the days continued on he realized that what he has was, in fact, a crush. That it was this thing that Lilia had referred to as “pining”.

He could remember the way he longed for you - how he longed to see you and be around you. The way he wanted to hold your hand while he told you about his “Gao-Gao Dragon-Kun”. The way he wanted to hear about you and your life. The way he wanted to have you stay as a part of his life, his newest friend, but how he also wanted you to be more than just a friend.

He could remember the exact moment when it felt like the world stopped. The moment he realized he was in love with you.

To others - and himself - Lilia Vanrouge did not seem like the type to have a crush on, let alone pine for, anyone.

The only problem with that was, well, Lilia had never met anyone like you before.

The first time Lilia ran into you, it was actually the other way around. You ran into him.

It had been a loud thud - you weren’t looking and he hadn’t been expecting it. He had previously been hanging upside down, planning on finding something to do in order to mess with Sebek, so the sight of a little human running into him, certainly took him off guard.

He couldn’t help but find it cute - the way your cheeks flamed red and you stuttered out an apology, who wouldn’t find it cute?

He watched with glee as you ran away embarrassed. He thought that would have been the last time he’d see you; the last he’d hear of that cute little human.But fate seemed to have something different in mind for this old soul.

A couple nights had passed and before he knew it, he caught a glimpse of your form heading back to your dorm, splitting away from the two troublemaking first years from Heartslabyul, and walking away on your own.

Being the polite man he was, Lilia casually walked up to you, offering to walk you home. Not wanting to resist such a kind offer, you accepted, and the two of you began walking back to your dorm together.

The more you talked to him, the cuter he found you. The way your lips quirked into a smile and your eyes held so much light, he couldn’t help but find you absolutely adorable.

The more you talked and told him about yourself, the more he wanted to talk to you again.

After dropping you off in his dorm and returning to his own, Lilia had yet to wipe the gleeful smile off his face. Unluckily for him, Silver was very quick to pick up on it.

“What are you smiling for, old man? What trouble did you stir up now?”

“Trouble? Fufufu~ What are you talking about, Silver?”

The young man sighed and walked away, leaving Lilia on his own to think. Was he...really smiling over simply walking you back?

Over the next few days, he found his gaze wandering over to you more and more often. He found entertainment in the way you fooled around with the braincell duo you seemed to spend most of your time with. He found entertainment in the way you laughed so carelessly with them. He found entertainment in your sweet laugh.

He found entertainment in the way you reacted when he popped up around you, and the kind words you had to spare for him. He found entertainment in your reactions to his teasing and jokes. He found the most entertainment, however, in the way he found himself longing for your presence when you weren’t beside him.

He missed you when you weren’t next to him. It was a weird feeling - a feeling he never thought he’d have toward a human - longing.

It didn’t take him long to figure out what was going on; he was able to decipher the reasoning behind the storm raging within his chest.

Lilia was no idiot. Not by a long shot. He had been around humans long enough to know he had developed a “crush” on you, and that his desire to be around you was “pining”.

While he may have been able to understand his feelings, he wasn't able to figure out what he should do next.

For the time being, he decided he would continue to long for you from afar.

Just until he was confident he would be able to swoop in and steal your heart in return.

Silver’s uncanny ability to fall asleep at any moment was a bit of an exasperation for those around him. He just so happened to be asleep once again on the day you two met.

You were running through the courtyard - not the best decision on your part - when you tripped over a log. Or...was it a log?

After picking yourself up from off the ground, you realized it was, in fact, not a log you had tripped over, but a very sleepy young man.

Frantic apologies spilled past your lips as you asked if he was okay, but with a simple hand movement he waved away all of your questions.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

A beat had passed in silence; the guilt was eating you up inside with every second you were beside him.

Due to his desire to want to be the best knight he could, Silver warmly offered to walk you to your next class, and away the two of you went. You struck up casual conversation and before he knew it your beautiful laugh was ringing through the halls, resounding in his ears, and reverberating in his heart.

He thought walking you to your class would be the end of it. Never mind the whispers of your voice in his ears or the imprint of your smile in his brain.

However, much to his surprise, you brought him a bento the very next day. You apologized once again for running into him while he was asleep, and causing him to subsequently go through the trouble of walking you to class.

The assurances he was ready to offer died on his tongue as he opened the lunch. Snug inside one of the compartments lay a small helping of some delicious mushroom risotto.

He was confused, to say the least. How did you know this was his favorite food? Was it a lucky guess? Or did you ask Lilia or Sebek?

Before he got the chance to ask you, you bid him a sweet farewell before skipping off to your friends who were waiting for you. He looked down at the lunch, and he smiled.

For the following few days, he seemed to run into you everywhere. He’d catch sight of your back as you traversed through the halls, see a glimpse of your hair through the waves of students.

The thing that did the most damage to his heart, however, was the way you went out of your way for him. Every class you two had together, you’d greet him with a pleasant “hi!”. Every morning at breakfast and every night at lunch, you’d wave to him as you walked past.

Every little sighting of you made his heart beat faster and faster.

He noticed he felt less sleepy when you were around. He felt more awake than ever, actually. He perked up at just the thought of you, or the idea that you may be around.

However, despite any attempts to be subtle on his part, it did not go unnoticed.

Lilia was quick to pick up on this massive shift in Silver.

“I’m surprised at this extraordinary change in you, Silver,” he would say. But Silver would pay him no mind - he didn’t feel like explaining the intricacies of his heart to his old man.

The longer time went on, and the more he met up with you to talk, or even to do homework together, the more his heart longed for you.

He didn’t know how he was able to handle it. The mere thought of you was enough to dye his ears all shades of pink.

Was he….was he in love with you?

Eventually, Silver realized that must be the only answer - that he was utterly and hopelessly in love with you.

The more the days passed by, the more he wanted to confess to you; to tell you how he felt.

Would it really be okay for him to do so? “Well,” he thought, as he straightened his cap. “I suppose I’ll have to find out.”

Sebek’s first meeting with you really wasn’t anything special.

The first time he had seen you, you had bumped into Malleus in the hallway. It was a complete accident, but Sebek didn’t see it that way.

The only thing keeping him from chewing you out right then and there in front of everyone was the presence of the Young Master.

He couldn’t stop fuming as the day went on. “Who do they think they are, bumping into the Young Master like that.”

Any spectators would have to admit that the second meeting went better than the first.

Upon seeing you for the second time, Sebek’s anger fueled rant (as he had not forgotten about the first meeting) quickly dissolved into simply just a Malleus rant.

When his speech finally came to a close, he was a bit embarrassed for having spoken so long about his dear young master.

But he was not sorry - no, not in the slightest. Why would he apologize for speaking so vehemently about his lovely young master? You should be grateful for being blessed with stories of his greatness.

Sebek could vividly remember the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you that night. You hadn’t been annoyed while listening, while others often were. You had been patient, kind, and attentive to what he had been saying.

What Sebek didn’t realize, however, was the shade of pink his ears were slowly turning.

This little blush didn’t go unnoticed by Lilia, who quickly picked up on it in order to tease the young man.

Almost certain that Sebek was suffering from a crush, he crept up behind him before saying, “Sebek, are you aware that the more you think about someone you’re crushing on, the more they’ll think about you in return?”

“R-really?” Sebek sputtered for a second before attempting to regain his composure. “It’s asinine that you would even begin to presume that I would have a crush on anyone. I am wholly devoted to serving the young master. I thought you knew that by now?”

“Fufufu. I wasn’t implying anything.~~ Just wanted to let you know.~~”

The more Sebek thought about you, and that night, the more his desire to speak to you again grew.

Whenever he saw you out in the halls, his heart skipped a beat. It almost stopped completely when you raised your hand and waved to him, a pretty little smile dancing across your lips.

He remembered the way he held his breath when you skipped over to him at lunch. He remembers the feeling of his pulse quickening when you sat down beside him. He remembers the blood pounding in his ears when you turned to him, smiling, and asked him, “How’s the Young Master?”

Sebek had never taken interest in someone like you before. You listened to him talk, not even minding too much when he got a bit loud, and you showed interest in both Malleus... and Sebek himself.

He was starstruck, and couldn't help but think of you what seemed like every few minutes. It seemed to him that no matter what he was doing, his thoughts somehow wandered to you.

Did you think he looked cool during p.e. class? Did you see the way he answered Crewel’s question perfectly? Do you think about him as much as he thinks about you?

He eventually realized that he did, in fact, have a rather large crush on you.

This realization hit him like the Adeuce combo on a flying broomstick. What was he supposed to do now?

He couldn’t stop thinking of you, and he hated it. He was meant to be devoted to Malleus, yet here he was thinking about some mere human.

The crush continued to persist, despite Sebek’s half-hearted wishes for it to go away.

The more he thought about you the more he realized he wanted to be more than friends with you.

Until the day he could confess, Sebek would continue to straighten himself up, fix his uniform, and proudly march over to (loudly) talk to you once again.

505 notes · View notes

mishasminion360 · 3 years

Text

Here Comes the Boom

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warning: Language

Notes: This is a sequel to my fic “This Feeling Has a Name”. That fic was supposed to be a one shot, but I received some very positive feedback inquiring about more, so I figured ‘what the heck!’ I hope you enjoy this installment as much as the first. Thank you for all your likes, love, and support. Also, stay tuned because I have a major Mandalorian fic in the works.

Since the night you ended your relationship (such as it was) you’d avoided Javier Peña like the plague. Not an easy thing to do considering you worked in the same building. Anytime the two of you made eye contact, you’d quickly duck out of the room or strike up a conversation with some poor, unsuspecting co-worker before Javi could corner you.

You’d gone as far as to request a transfer, but the powers that be were dragging their feet through the sea of paperwork. For now you’d just have to grin and bare it to the best of your ability.

You reassured yourself over and over again that putting some much needed distance between you and Peña was the wisest move; you repeated it like a mantra in your head. You practically meditated on the thought, like the fucking Buddha.

Your brain was firmly planted in reality, but your heart, God damn it, still needed a little more convincing. It was still nestled comfortably in Javier’s hands.

When you were certain he wasn’t looking, your eyes would lock onto him across the room. They would gaze. They would linger. And you would yearn. You’d walk past his empty desk and your fingers would unconsciously reach out to graze the smooth leather of his jacket draped over the back of his chair. The same jacket he’d once wrapped around your shoulders.

It was undeniable: you’d been bitten by the proverbial love bug and were sick as hell, and there was no cure. You worked in the same room as some of the most brilliant, tactful minds on the planet, so you knew there was no hiding your condition for long. And, of course, Steve Murphy was the first to figure it out.

“What the hell did Javi do now?” he asked you point blank, cornering you at the water cooler.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to feign ignorance and failing miserably.

“Well, he’s been more of a bastard than usual and I figured it had something to do with you. And if something did happen between you two, because it’s always the safe bet, I could only imagine that Javi fucked up royally. So, I ask again: what did he do?”

You gulped down your water, wishing it was something stronger, and tossed the cup.

“Why do you assume his bullshit has anything to do with me?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Murphy’s mouth.

“Because nothing gets him more worked up than you.”

You knew it was meant as a compliment, but you tried desperately not to see it that way.

“We’re hunting Pablo fucking Escobar, darlin’. One of the most dangerous criminal, dare I say masterminds, in all of Colombia, potentially the world. But not even this motherfucker has been able to get under Javi’s skin the way you have. And don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Of course Steve noticed. Because you were so damn obvious. You were ashamed and embarrassed of your unprofessionalism, but you couldn’t blame that on Javier Peña. Your feelings and the resulting behaviors of said feelings were your own.

“The relationship had run its course, Steve, so I ended it. That’s it. We’re adults, adults break up. If Javi is insisting on taking it like a child, that’s on him.”

You return to your desk and attempt to lose yourself in paperwork. You know Steve wants to say more; the silence that follows is pregnant with his unvoiced questions, thoughts and opinions. Fortunately for you he’s wise enough to keep them all to himself.

“Hang in there,” he mumbles, patting your shoulder in a brief gesture of support before striding off.

***

You finish drying your hands and you’re about to exit the ladies room when suddenly the door flies open and in storms Javier.

“Shit!” you exclaim, both startled and a bit disgusted at the lengths he would go to just to confront you.

“We need to talk,” he grumbles, standing between you and the door.

“We have nothing to talk about, Javier, and certainly not here of all places!”

Just then one of the receptionists attempts to enter the restroom, doing a double take when she notices Javier.

“Go find another bathroom,” he barks at the wide eyed young woman.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Peña?” she snaps.

“OUT!” he roars. She doesn’t need to be told twice.

For good measure he locks the door behind her, and the two of you are officially alone. Even in the enclosed space, you try to put as much distance between the two of you as physically possible.

Javier let’s out a frustrated breath as he runs a hand over his face and through his hair.

“I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but I need you to listen to me. Just listen to me. Okay?”

Your heart is thudding in your ears but you attempt to play it cool by crossing your arms and leaning back against the sink.

“I’m listening.”

Javi took a deep breath then began again.

“You know I’m not the best at showing emotion-“

You cut him off with a laugh.

“You just screamed a poor woman out of this bathroom and you say you’re no good at showing emotion?”

You could see the anger boiling up inside him once again, but he closed his eyes, took a breath, tamped it down, and continued.

“I don’t typically get close to people, alright? I don’t usually do relationships, friendly or otherwise. What you and I have...”

You shot him a pointed look at the same instant he caught his mistake.

“Had ,” he corrected. “That’s usually the extent of my emotional attachment.”

You snickered a bit. “I sure as hell hope Steve is enjoying it while it lasts, then.”

“God dammit, I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Now you want to get serious?”

That may have been a poor choice of words. Actually, goading him on while he was obviously upset may have been one big bad idea on your part, because in a flash Javier was crushing his body to yours and shackling your wrists in his hands. He was so close that you could feel the heat from his skin burning your own. Or maybe that was your own.

He took a second to recollect himself, but he didn’t release his grip on you. In that moment you didn’t mind.

“Just who the hell said I didn’t love you, huh?”

His entire body was like an angry storm: his pounding heart was thunder, and his words struck you like lightening. But his eyes, just like that of any other tempest, were calm. And as you gazed into them your fear was washed away, as if by rain.

“You did,” you whispered. “You told me, Javi, that love wasn’t your thing. You warned me when we first started seeing each other, and you just said it again now. Don’t you even hear yourself when you talk?”

He didn’t say anything, only swallowed painfully over the lump in his throat.

“I get it, Javier, okay? This is not my first time being with someone like you. I know there are people out there who just can’t stand the idea of love and relationships, and there’s nothing wrong with that. To each their own right?”

He seemed frozen so you took the opportunity to release yourself from his grasp and lower his arms to his sides.

“That doesn’t make you a bad guy, Javier. You don’t have to apologize for being who you are. You don’t ever have to apologize for that.”

You looked away as angry, self conscious tears filled your eyes.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Javier. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more careful. I’m sorry I didn’t take your warning to heart.”

Before you even realized what you were doing, you brought your hand gently to his face. This could, would, be the last time you ever touched him, and because he probably understood that all too well he reached up and placed his hand atop yours, pressing it harder against his cheek.

“I’m sorry I fell in love with you, Javi.”

You saw his eyes go painfully wide as you slipped from his hold and made your way around him, not sparing a single look back as you left the restroom. You didn’t see him punch the mirror, but you heard the glass shatter from the other side of the door.

Wiping angrily at your eyes, you hastily retrieved your jacket and purse from your desk and tapped Steve on the shoulder on your way out.

“Tell the boss I’m leaving early,” you said, and if Steve was going to protest you didn’t give him the chance. You were as good as gone.

***

The next day you called in sick. For one day, just one lousy fucking day, you wanted to be alone to drown your thoughts under a stack of paperwork a mile high. You told the boss not to call and bother you unless your transfer request had gone through.

But as luck would have it, you picked the wrong fucking day to stay home.

One second you were skimming page after page of Escobar’s dossier, the next the pages were fluttering in the air like confidential snowflakes, launched skyward by the force of the explosion that rocked your apartment and the shops below.

@mamacitapascal @obsessivelysearching

#pedro pascal #Javier Peña #narcos #fanfics

81 notes · View notes

rosy-wooyoung · 3 years

Text

unconditional love | j. wooyoung

pairing : wooyoung x fem!reader word count: 3.6k synopsis: a romantic evening with your boyfriend. A/N: I know it’s cliché, I know, but it’s Valentine’s day, okay?? Special thanks to @seoultraveller for giving me this idea, i hope it’s good! <3 Happy Valentine’s day to everyone and remember to take care of yourselves 💐💕

“Woo! Why don’t you tell me anything about Valentine’s day? I don’t even know what to wear!” you exclaimed as Wooyoung was about to leave for work. He walked to peck your lips, but you caught his forearms to prevent him from moving. “I can’t tell you, babe, it’d ruin the surprise,” he said with his sweetest voice, but you didn’t let go. “At least give me a hint,” you were almost begging at this point. You had never really been fond of surprises. They always made you nervous, and knowing that your boyfriend prepared everything behind your back had a knack for annoying you.

“Okay, then. Meet me at the restaurant at 7:30 tonight. And for the clothes… I don’t know, you’ll look pretty anyway, so wear what you want!” he exclaimed as he finally gets to kiss you on the lips and hurried to the hall. “Wooyoung!” “Love you, darling!” he said as he locked the front door, making you huff at his stubbornness, mumbling a 'love you too'. Where are you even going? Do you have to dress fancy or just your office clothes? No, they’re plain, plus he sees you in them every single day. “Argh, he annoys me,” you said through gritted teeth as you ditched your now empty cup of coffee in the dishwasher before starting it.

- ♥ -

You had known Wooyoung for years now. When you first met, he was just a manager at the restaurant a few meters away from where you worked, and your colleagues were among his regular customers. When you started to work at this company, you were the newbie, so you had never been there before, and the young man started crushing on you as soon as you walked through the door. Your clothes and beautiful facial expressions were enough to make his heart hammer in his chest, not even paying attention to the customers or his co-workers. When you were in the restaurant, he had eyes for you and you only.

The other managers, - who were still his current friends -, noticed how his attention would shift when the clock struck midday, the time you usually came with your colleagues. They would tease and annoy him because you were around, and he was always ready to slap them with whatever landed in his hands.

Something that he didn’t know at that time was that he had also caught your eye. He looked good in his working uniform, and you always found kindness in his eyes when he was talking to you. One day, in the middle of winter, you accidentally slipped on a patch of ice, right in front of his restaurant. Him and Yunho, one of the other managers, rushed over and helped you back up. You were super embarrassed, to say the least, because it’s never flattering when you fall in public, but Wooyoung didn’t even notice your distress. He was too busy checking that you weren’t hurt anywhere and warm enough to go back outside.

When you came back around that day at lunch, he made sure that you were okay, not caring if it poked up some envy or jealousy among your female co-workers. It’s with a downward gaze that you thanked him for his concern, and Wooyoung never felt so proud. In one day, he had gotten to know your name, take care of you and hold you, – yes, because he pushed Yunho to the side to be the one to help you back up on your feet –, he had never been this happy.

And, from day to day, you started talking more informally, to the point of visiting the restaurant, even if you weren’t working. You got to speak with him while he worked and complimenting him on the management of the team, as well as the food. Soon becoming friends, then best friends, until Wooyoung confessed to you. He loves to brag about that day, but you always let him because you found it adorable.

You also remember it like it was yesterday. It was on Valentine’s day, - just like today -, and you came to the restaurant, dozens of minutes before it was closing. You looked down and cold, the sheer top and skirt you were wearing didn’t help to warm you up. Wooyoung found you gorgeous in those clothes, but he was curious to know the reason for your frown. His heart shattered when you started crying, admitting that you had confessed your love to one of your colleagues, who didn’t reciprocate your feelings. Wooyoung felt sick to know that you were crushing on someone else but didn’t dare to say anything. He offered you a glass of water that you downed in a few seconds, under his impressed eyes. You kept on crying, but you soon admitted that you felt more embarrassed than heartbroken.

“I feel like disappearing in a rabbit hole,” you mumbled and Wooyoung shook his head. “He’s not worth your tears, nor your time if he rejected you. It’s not the end of the world, there are still plenty of guys on the planet.” “That will love me? I highly doubt that,” you said as you wiped your tears and Wooyoung scoffed.

“That will love a wonderful, sweet, amazing soul like yours? Girls like you are rare, you just need to find the man you deserve,” he said as he washed your glass, drying it with a piece of cloth. His words surprised you, and you blinked a few times when you noticed the tip of his ears becoming bright red.

Was he hinting at something?

“Oh yeah? And where can I find someone like that, uh? It’s pretty thin on the ground, and it's not on Tinder that I'll find them," you stated, crossing your arms on your chest. “You have one in front of you, dear,” he said as he placed the glass back on the cupboard, clearing the bottles of alcohol. Your eyes widened before you laid back on your chair, considering his words. Wooyoung kept his back to you, trying to find a way to come back to you in case your answer was negative. When he finally found the courage to look back at you, you were gone. He blinked a few times before he felt someone grabbing his face and kiss him on the lips.

You had just walked around the counter to come to him. Wooyoung threw the piece of cloth on the bar and deepened the kiss, grabbing your face while asking for entrance with his tongue. Thankfully, his colleagues were leaving by the backdoor, leaving you all the freedom in the world to make out.

- ♥ -

That night happened 4 years ago, and since when, you both progressed in your respective workplaces. You’ve gotten to a heavily responsible job, and Wooyoung became the owner of the restaurant he worked at, making you both quite successful and proud of the other. And, to kind of commemorate this special night, on every single Valentine’s day, you celebrated in a special way, Wooyoung always going extra just to see you smile. But tonight, you had no idea what he was going to do. You left work a tad bit earlier than usual to go home and get ready. You had tried to guess your surprise all day, even begging for hints through messages to your lover, but you couldn’t get anything from him.

You locked the door once you were ready, straightening the edges of your black dress. You felt pretty tonight, thanks to your hairstyle and your makeup skills, you knew that Wooyoung would love that look. It’s not that you doubted his love, he had said by the past that you were pretty in the weirdest situations, - you could have just woken up, wipe the counter or just breathing, he’d find you pretty – but tonight, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself when he’ll see you.

“Thank you,” you said to the taxi driver as gave you back your credit card, getting out of the vehicle. To be on a holiday night, you found the restaurant quite empty, if not desert. You could barely see the kitchens light in your lover's restaurant, but you neared the entrance and gently knocked on the glass door.

Your boyfriend emerged suddenly from the back-office, clad in a black shirt and some office pants. His hair was neatly styled, forehead on display, eyes shining with love when he saw you on the other side of the window.

“I’m two minutes late,” you said and he gently shook his head, his arm sneaking under your coat to wrap itself around your waist, drawing you towards him. He lost himself a few seconds in your eyes before landing on your lips. You smiled as he was getting distracted, happy that you still had this effect on him after all those years of common life. “It’s alright, love,” he whispered, eyes darting to your bare shoulder as your faux-fur coat slid from your body. His eyes fluttered as they came back to yours, his face slowly approaching yours before capturing your lips in a slow, yet feverish kiss.

You pulled away for oxygen, smiling as you wiped his bottom lip with your thumb, getting rid of the red lipstick you smeared while kissing him.

“So, where are we going, Woo?” you sweetly asked, straightening the collar of his shirt. He looked like he snapped back to reality and cleared his throat, smirking at you. “Nowhere, Y/N. If you may follow me,” he said, extending his elbow for you to hold, thanking him as he walked you to a table in the middle of the restaurant hall. Lights dimmed, all the other tables and chairs pushed to the side, everything made you realise how spacious the restaurant was. It almost looked like a dance hall.

A bouquet of red roses, twelve to be precise, was placed on your plate, the attention making you smile as you saw a handwritten note attached to the bouquet. Softly introducing your fingers between the paper, you opened it and recognised the handwriting of your loved one.

They say you only fall in love once, but every time I look at you, I fall all over again. Happy Valentine’s day, love. ♥

So cliché, but so worth it. You smiled as you looked at Wooyoung, resisting the urge to jump into his arms. You simply kissed him on the lips another time before he grabbed your hands, guiding you to the chair. He pulled it out for you, inviting you to sit down.

“You went all out tonight,” you joked, and he giggled, pushing you closer to the table. “I’d do it every single day if I had the time,” he kissed your temple before going back to the kitchen, leaving you time to admire the roses. They were so red and smelled heavenly, they’re going to look extremely pretty on the kitchen counter. Once he came back with balancing two plates on one hand, a vase in the other, your mouth started salivating at the sight of the food in front of you. He took the roses and placed them in the perfectly fitting vase, resting it on the table. “Are you going to do everything by yourself?” you asked as he sat down, resting a napkin on his laps. “I wanted to make this moment special and private. I didn’t want to have San or Yunho underfoot. And it’s our moment, not theirs,” he said, and you smiled, pursing your lips as you stared at your boyfriend. “You are amazing,” you mumbled and he raised his eyebrows. “And you are the one saying this,” he teased back, making you roll your eyes and started eating. Everything melted in your mouth, awakening your taste buds. You knew that your boyfriend was an excellent chef, but at this point, it was just astonishing.

“You never fail to amaze me,” you said, done with your first course, feeling almost full. Wooyoung knew your eating habits, and he always managed to make everything balance for your stomach. “And you haven't seen everything yet, love,” he winked as he took your plate, walking back to the kitchen. You were truly lucky to have him in your life, you don’t know where you would be without him. He brought out the best of you, always pushing you to do your best and he was your number one supporter, no matter the size of your victories.

Hand supporting your chin, you observed with a smile your lover actively around the kitchens, roasting something in the pan due to the flames coming out of it. The gesture was under control, your boyfriend stirring the pan continuously as the flames kept on going. It was rather impressive, – almost sexy – but you had forbidden him to try this at home. No matter how good he was at doing this, you didn’t want to end with a kitchen on fire. Wooyoung knew you were watching him, and that pushed him to show off even more. He knew that he didn’t have to do it, yet he couldn’t help but put on an act.

The main course arrived a few minutes later, and you were pleased to see your favourite dish in front of your eyes.

“I don’t even know what to say,” you mumbled with a shy smile, grabbing your fork and knife, “it smells so fucking good, you went all out just for me, you don't know how grateful I am.” “I love you too baby, but eat now. It won’t be the same if it’s cold,” you giggled and grabbed his free hand with yours, his thumb instantly caressing your knuckles. He observed you take the first bite, and a proud smile decorated his lips when you closed your eyes to enjoy the piece of meat you were chewing on. It was a dish that your mother used to do on your birthday since you loved it so much, but you had to say that Wooyoung brought something special to it.

“I don’t even have to say anything, you know it’s good,” you said after swallowing, immediately stabbing your fork in another piece. “It’s always nice to hear it from you,” he said, and you stood up, giggling. You had never been great with words, so you just grabbed his face and placed your lips against his, trying to show him how much you loved him through a kiss. “Thank you,” you whispered, and he gave you a gentle slap on the ass. “There is still the dessert left,” he said, and you groaned, clutching your stomach before taking another bite.

“You’re trying to make me fat, aren’t you?” you giggled, and he shook his head, taking a sip of wine. “Come on, it’s only once a year,” he said, and you laughed, scoffing. “Liar! You know you cook well, plus you cook on my birthday, on Easter, Christmas’ Eve and New Year’s Eve. So no baby, it’s not once a year.” Wooyoung simply smirked, gaze falling on your stomach. If food wasn’t enough to make you gain some weight, he knows another way to make your stomach all pretty and round.

But he would never say that aloud. At least not now, he’ll save it for later. Maybe in one or two years or so.

He chuckled to himself as he looked back at you. You talked about everything and nothing during the rest of dinner, hands linked and sometimes pressing soft kisses on each other’s skin, as it both was your way to show affection.

“Are you ready for the dessert?” he asked, and you nodded as he took your plate, making his way to the kitchens, again. “I’m excited to see what you prepared,” you said, and he turned around, biting his lower lip as he grinned. “You’ll have to be a bit patient for this one, love,” he said, checking his watch before disappearing into the kitchen. He certainly loved leaving you in the lurch, hanging onto his every word.

Once he reappeared, you were surprised to see him empty-handed, only carrying his coat and keys.

“Dessert’s actually served at home, Y/N,” your eyes widened as you took the hand he was holding out. He helped you put your coat back on and blew the candles away. You were about to take the roses, but he stopped you, kissing you on the back of your hand instead. “You’ll come and get them tomorrow, baby,” he winked, and you chuckled, biting your lower lip as you looked at him. You knew him so well. He wanted you to drop by so he could give you the flowers in the middle of the restaurant, showing all the people there and your colleagues that you are his and his only.

While driving, Wooyoung’s hand wouldn’t leave your thigh, hand or forearm, always feeling the soft, plush skin under his touch. You let him, feeling goosebumps travelling in your body as his warm hand contrasted with your cold skin. The car was filled in a comfortable silence between the two of you, only the melody coming out of the radio and the motor roaring under you filling it in. Eyeing your boyfriend from the corner of your eye, you admired his side profile and his dexterity in shifting gears, finding the gesture ridiculously hot. You were at ease, yet excited to discover the dessert.

Twisting your key in the slit, a sweet smell invaded your nostrils, making you instinctively frown. Where did it come from?

“Okay, I have to admit. On this one, I might have given orders,” your boyfriend explained in your back, and it reassured you on the current smell in your apartment. “I thought I had forgotten something on the stove,” you joked and took off your coat, Wooyoung imitating you.

“You know about the Wonderland bakery, right?” he started, and you gave him a light shrug. “Who wouldn’t? It’s the best bakery in the entire neighbourhood,” you answered, and your boyfriend smiled. “Well, the owner is Hongjoong, my good friend from high school. I think he’ll be happy you like his baby this much. But anyway, I asked him if he could prepare something sweet while we were having dinner together,” he said as you let him walk you to the kitchen. “And he was free on Valentine’s day?” you asked, quite dumbfounded. “His lover is on the other side of the world for her job, he was happy to help and make a couple happy,” Wooyoung said and you hugged him from the side.

“I love you, you know that?” you said and he chuckled, hand going at the back of your neck. “Hmm, I know, but I think I love you more,” he agreed and he took out the aluminium foil off a plate that rested on the cleaned stove, placing some toffee apples and chocolate strawberries under your nose, your two weaknesses when it came to desserts. You delicately took one strawberry between your fingers and aimed for your lover’s lips, who purposefully made a mess while eating it.

“If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked for it,” you said as you grabbed his face, pressing your mouth against his as you cleaned the smeared chocolate from his lips. “It’s funnier that way,” he teased and you gently shoved him, taking another strawberry. This time, you were going to eat it, but Wooyoung sneaked in and bit it, barely missing your fingers. You gave him a disapproving look and he giggled before kissing your cheek, feeling some of the chocolate lingering on your skin.

Wooyoung seized a toffee apple and forced it against your lips, obliging you to bit it. His other hand resting under your chin, ready to collect the falling pieces, you sweetly munched on the sugar-coated fruit as Wooyoung licked his fingers clean from anything that you missed. You finished the apple while looking at your boyfriend, sometimes teasingly pushing the sugar off your lips, back in your mouth. You knew that you were driving him crazy, especially in that dress, but it was so entertaining to watch him not trying to lose his composure and jump on you. His eyes never missed your reddened lips, the apple nor your lipstick helping the poor man and his loving pulsations.

Taking out the stick and the stem of the last strawberry, he placed it in his mouth, motioning you to come closer. You teasingly bit it until your mouth touched, passionately kissing as the fruit and the chocolate mixed in your mouth. Pulling away, you swallowed your bite and sat back on the couch, but it was only for a quick second.

Wooyoung got up and lifted you from your position, earning a yelp from you. He carried you like a bride, giving you all the time in the world to observe him until you reached the bedroom.

“Thank you for everything, Woo,” you whispered against his chest, and he slowly placed you down on the bed. Knees on either side of your waist, he hovered above you, lips ghosting on the skin of your neck.

“You’ll thank me later, love. Valentine’s day isn’t over yet,” he whispered as he started pressing a feverish kiss on your burning skin, loving every single sound coming out of your mouth. He was right, the night was still young, and you weren’t ready for all the other things Wooyoung had prepared for you. And you're totally right, it wasn’t more food.

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vanderlindemorgans · 3 years

Text

dark blue tennessee

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: It was one thing being without him while he was alive. It was another to lose him all together

Warnings: Major character death, grief-induced alcoholism, descriptions of blood and injuries, vague allusions to suicide. None of this is beta read so please don’t shoot me for any grammatical errors!

None of this seemed real to you. None of it felt real. It would have brought you some comfort if it wasn’t - that way you could reason with yourself that this was all the result of some horrific nightmare, that’d you’d wake up with a small gasp in his arms, safe and away from whatever dark terror had enveloped your mind. You weren’t one to usually have nightmares but when you did he would always be there, his embrace warm and tight, a single hand running through your hair in a soft pattern, and his unmistakable southern drawl whispering into your ear.

This wasn’t a dream however. No matter how wrong it felt, how surreal and horrific the whole situation was, it was all real. Perched on the edge of a barstool, you glanced over at the almost empty bottle of whiskey beside you. You thought it would take the pain away, dull your senses and let you pretend for two seconds that he wasn’t really gone, but if anything, the whiskey made it worse. Everything reminded you of him, day in and day out, every morning you woke up and all you could notice was that he wasn’t there. His clothes were, his Stetson perched on a hook on the back of your bedroom door, his stupid belt buckle that you’d always mocked him for...but not him. You couldn’t bear to box away any of it. It may bring you pain to see all these items laid out, as if they were expecting their owner to return someday, but shoving it all in the back of a closet seemed so...disrespectful to you. It would be almost the same as forgetting him in your mind, and you refused to.

It had been only two weeks since you first received that fateful call, the one that you prayed to high heavens you would never hear. Thank god you were home when you got the call - if you’d been out with your friends, or heaven forbid at work you don’t know what you would have done. It was a moment that you often replayed over in your mind, if for nothing more than the torture of reminding yourself of the day you had broke like glass shattered on a white cloth.

Trailing the pad of your finger over the edge of your glass, you tossed your head back as you downed yet another glass of liquor. Every detail of that memory stuck out to you, even the most insignificant things that no one else would ever mention. You’d taken the day off work, already feeling shitty straight up from the moment the day had begun. You’d been making something to eat, just some toast because you couldn’t be bothered with anything else, and right when you were searching the fridge for a jar of jam you had heard the phone ring.

Without a second thought you’d scooped it up in your hands and answered it, thinking it would be one of your friends calling to try to get you to come out with them to some bar or something that night. You hadn’t guessed it would be anything important. “Hello?”.

“Hi, am I speaking to Y/N?”. You furrowed your brow at the response, not immediately recognising the voice. You considered hanging up for a brief moment but something in you told you to stay on the line.

“You are. I’m sorry, who is this?”.

“My name is Ginger Ale. I’m a colleague of your partner, Jack Daniels. I’m very sorry to have to inform you this way, but he’s perished in a horrible incident”.

Everything around you seemed to collapse in that moment. The whole world might as well have fallen away around you the minute you heard those words. It was a curious thing, the death of a loved one. It often comes so suddenly, and so unexpected that you feel like you’re climbing the stairs to your room in the dark, thinking there’s just one more step than there actually is, and feeling yourself plummet down into the abyss below. It was nothing like you’d ever experienced before - you might as well have been falling deep into the shadowy chasm right at the moment. Your grip on the phone tightened as you struggled to find the words, or any words really, to say in response as tears started to gather around the corners of your eyes. “W-what? What do you mean...he’s…” you trembled, stumbling on your feet as you fell against the wall in a daze, the world somehow seeming both screaming loud and quiet all at once.

“He was injured badly during his last mission - multiple gunshot wounds from a certain run in with a couple of gangsters. He was...he was barely alive when we brought him in” Ginger explained, trying her best to comfort you but you barely took any notice of her words as the same thought played over in your head. He’s gone. He’s dead. He’s fucking dead, and you could have stopped it. It’s all your fault.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to have that weird gel stuff that heals gunshot wounds? Surely...surely he could have been saved, right?” you asked frantically, your cheeks streaked with tears and flushed with grief. It took everything in you not to fall apart right then and there, dropping the phone to the floor and screaming out in sheer agony of the pain that was ripping through you.

“Not this time, sadly. I’m really sorry, Y/N”. There was a small pause on the other end of the line before Ginger spoke again, her tone indicating her hesitance at divulging such information to you. “He also insisted that we don’t bother, that he knew his time was up with this one. I was watching him on this mission - he went into it all quite recklessly, which isn’t completely new for him but…”.

“But?” you asked, prompting her to finish her sentence but she never did. A heavy silence hung between the both of you, punctured lightly by the sound of your heavy breath which you tried desperately to keep in check. Some small part of you was still in some sort of disbelief, wanting to fervently deny that any of this was happening. This is just a dream right? I’ll wake up back in bed, I’ll get up and call Jack, and he’ll be alive and well. None of this is real. It can’t be real...

“I want to see him. Please, just let me see him. Let me at least say goodbye”.

You hadn’t taken much notice of your surroundings on your way to Statesman Headquarters - everything might as well have been a blur to you from the moment you stepped through the doors to the second you walked off the platform of the elevator towards the medical wing. As soon as you spotted him all sense of decorum and logic was thrown out the window, any sense of composure melting away to nothing the very second his body came into view. Ginger had been beside you, probably as a general gesture to ensure you wouldn’t entirely lose it once you gained a single glimpse of him but alas, as soon as the elevator pulled to a stop and the doors pulled open to reveal a lifeless Agent Whiskey lain across the stretcher, everything you had ever known seemed to fall to pieces from under you. It was as if your entire world had collapsed, had stopped revolving the minute you laid eyes on his lifeless form. Without another seconds hesitation you rushed towards him, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks as you bore witness to the unfortunate result of the tragedy that had struck.

It was as if the floodgates had opened right then and there - once you started crying, the tears just wouldn’t stop. With every ounce of your being you wished that somehow, by some godforsaken miracle, your touch would bring him back, that his eyes would magically flutter open and would greet you with those enchanting brown eyes that you had come to know every day of your life since the moment you had first met. That he would maybe, if only by the simple wish of your heart, say the one thing you were always angling to hear truthfully, in a way that you could put more than a simple faith in. As if you were a broken record, you couldn’t stop repeating his name over and over, like if by some divine intervention that alone would turn the clock back and have him lying next to you, his hand caressing your cheek and firing one of his signature flirty quips at you as you woke up in bed, catching a whiff of that ever-present scent of whiskey that mixed beautifully with his cologne. If only it were that simple. If only that were possible.

Instead you laid a hand against his cold forehead, now devoid of any warmth of life it once felt. Some would say that the dead looked almost peaceful in a way but you saw none of that: even in death Jack somehow looked anguished, like there was something left behind that he wanted to say but simply couldn’t go back to.

“I can’t feel you anymore…” you murmured, your voice wobbling violently. Leaning down towards him, you cradled his head between your palms, whispering his name softly and feeling your own tears decorate his cheeks. Ginger, or maybe somebody else, said something in the background that you couldn’t take any notice of, your mind fixated only on the man you loved and the unfortunate reality that presented itself to you now.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

The funeral had only been held a week afterwards. From a planning perspective, it was easy to organise his final affairs - for whatever reason you’d been named as the executor of his will, a fact that came as a shock to you once you had been served the information by the attorney. The two of you weren’t ever married, although you had attempted to float the idea once or twice, and his mother was still alive so it seemed odd to you that of all people to be left in charge of his estate Jack chose you. Emotionally, it had been a taxing revelation for you: on top of having to carry the stinging pain of finding out the man you loved had died, you had to be the one organising his affairs. You knew after leaving the medical wing of Statesmans Headquarters that day that you wanted nothing more than to let your own sorrow overcome you and let yourself fade out of existence, his voice haunting your every waking moment until you finally decided to let go entirely and throw yourself off the brink of insanity. That’s what you felt you deserved anyway.

His funeral had been the worst of it. You had silently prayed that maybe you would have numbed yourself out a bit. The most agonising part of it all were the hoards of people coming up to you asking how you were. It took everything in you to stop yourself from confessing everything. If they knew, they’d hate you. They’d blame you. The gossip would start, the theories and rumours flying high, the whispers you could hear in your head as if they were real. Somehow you’d pulled through, despite the inclination to break down at any given moment. But of course, that wasn’t the end. You’d buried him, now you had to face the mortifying reality of living without him.

With every passing day the memories became stronger. You never told any of them what had happened the last time you saw Jack - you couldn’t tell them. It had been eating at you from the inside ever since you picked up the phone that cursed day, tearing apart your mind and leaving nothing in its wake but heartbreaking grief and despair. It’s your fault. You’re the reason this happened. If you two hadn’t fought, if you hadn’t told him to fuck off on the phone that night, he wouldn’t have gone on that mission. You killed him. You’re a murderer.

All of these thoughts and more wormed their way between different glasses of whiskey, letting you lose track of both time and how many glasses you had. No matter how much you drank though it never dulled the grief nor the guilt that you’d been torturing yourself with from the moment you woke up every day to the moment you went to sleep. Actually, even in your sleep you couldn’t escape it, being plagued by nightmares and the like increasing in degrees of terror the longer they went on. It was why you now avoided any sort of conscious effort to sleep, only succumbing when you’d become so drunk that you had bent yourself over the back of the couch and cried as much as your body would let.

You swore to never let anyone know what had happened, that Jack and you had technically broken up a few days before his death. It already ate at you enough that you had to run over the memories in your mind, every last word you spat at him on repeat for your own infinite suffering. “It feels like wherever we go, she’s there. And she’s so beautiful, and perfect, and dead. I can’t compete with a ghost, Jack”. Scowling to yourself, you scooped up your glass and took yet another sip, feeling nothing but regret towards how everything played out. You didn’t regret what you said - on some level, you still felt it was true. You knew Jack would forever hold a candle for his ex-wife, but you’d grown tired of feeling like you were second place to a dead woman, as if the only reason he kept you around at all was to fill a void that could only truly be filled by the one person he could never have back. It had been selfish of you, in some way, but you’d deserved more. You loved Jack with everything you had, and you wanted him to feel the same way back, and although he swore he did you could plainly see that wasn’t the case.

“Darlin’, please, don’t be like this. You’re my only love and you know that. You’re being ridiculous about all this”

“Then why do you still wear your ring? Why do you get dismissive whenever I try to bring up moving in together, or marriage, or anything. It’s been two fucking years of this. You can do whatever you want, Jack but I’ll tell you one thing: you’ll be doing it alone. I’m out”.

“For fucks sake…” you cursed, slamming your glass back down on the table with a loud thud, your words slurred beyond all comprehension. A few drops of whiskey sloshed out of the glass onto the countertop, creating a small puddle on the marbled surface but you didn’t much care. What was the point in caring anyway?

You still had to pack up his home, a reminder that only contributed to your pain. You were supposed to have taken care of that before now, at least a week ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to enter his home. I’ll do it tomorrow...maybe. Yeah, tomorrow. Deciding firmly on that, you sipped the last of the liquor and stumbled off the seat of the barstool, the world spinning around you as you fumbled your way through the dim light of your apartment to where your bedroom was, throwing your intoxicated body amongst the heap of unmade bed sheets and burying yourself within them, crying until you passed out in a deep slumber.

Standing outside the door to Jack’s penthouse apartment, you stared forward with a muted expression upon your face, the key to his place gripped firmly between your fingers as if it would disappear from your hands at any moment. You’d been there for a good five minutes by then, meaning to break out of your state of catatonia to only be stopped again by yourself, kicking off a seemingly endless cycle in which you remained stuck in front of his door. You knew you had to go in there eventually: it wasn’t like everything of his would magically disappear if you just ignored it. It was still hard though, since you knew the moment you stepped through the door you’d be hit by the unmistakable scent of him. Almost like you were crossing a threshold of sorts, only with a feeling of emptiness on the other side instead of anything resembling happiness. Seeing his things would only remind you of how he wasn’t there among them, where he should be, which spiralled onto other thoughts, such as reminiscing on his gorgeous brown eyes and that honeyed southern accent you adored on him, and everything else that once made your heart spark with love. You felt your breath tremble as your knuckles turned white from holding the key with such might. This was a bad idea. You weren’t ready for this. Maybe you should just go home and call it a day.

No. You have to do this now. You might as well rip the bandaid off, lord knows you’ll have to do it eventually anyway.

Keeping your breath paced, you raised your shaking hand to the lock of the day, slowly inserting the key and twisting it until you heard the unmistakable click inside. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pushed open the double doors and pulled yourself inside, your high heels clicking on the linoleum floors.

Everything was exactly how you’d last seen it, how Jack had last left it. Not that you expected any different of course. The only people who had probably been there in the past two weeks since his death were people from Statesman to collect various bits of the agency's technology and other gadgets Jack had left lying about. You never knew much about his life as part of the secret service: during your relationship Jack had preferred to stay off the subject of his job as much as possible. He even said himself that you shouldn’t have known about his double life in the first place but when it became too obvious that keeping it from you was going to hurt your relationship with him in the long term he’d sought permission from his boss to have you cleared on the most basic of intel. That never bothered you in the slightest - the least you knew about the agency, the better, a view Jack wholeheartedly agreed with you on. You didn’t know him as Agent Whiskey, top agent to Statesman Secret Service trained in espionage. You knew him as Jack Daniels, the cocky womanizer who chased anything in a skirt, the gentleman who had always managed to sweep you off your feet whenever he was around, and the man you had once dreamt of marrying before things went south.

All around you were familiar places and objects, things that brought back so many memories yet felt hollow and empty as you looked upon them now. If things were right, he’d be there too, perhaps in the kitchen preparing dinner for you, knowing that you couldn’t resist coming over again even if it was the third time that week. Or maybe he’d be on the couch, reclining back with a glass of whiskey and a book, turning his head back to take a gander at you, shooting one of his signature smirks and making a remark about how incredibly gorgeous you looked. Without him, the space felt sullen and void of life, the dust settling on every surface from remaining untouched for two whole weeks by then.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward and tried as best you could to sort out your thoughts, detaching it as much as you were able to from the memories being back in that apartment brought. His mother already came to you and asked to have a box of certain things belonging to Jack given to her. You knew she was already going through a hell of a rough time herself, her only son winding up dead. She never knew about his life as an agent, being fed a cover story by Statesmans team in order to maintain their secrecy. A bit of you felt jealous of her for that. She would never know the truth, whereas you had to live every day for the rest of your life knowing what happened, being made aware of your own part to play in his fate every hour, every minute, every second.

The rest of it, well, you had no idea what to do with it. You thought it would be best to box up as much of his personal items as you could, either to keep for yourself or to hand back to his family, and arrange to have the rest of the furniture sold or given away to a charity shop or something. Moving towards the living room, you began to scoop up the different framed photos you found around the apartment. Some were of him as a kid, either on a horse or in different shots with his family, already sporting that heart melting smile of his. A lot of them were of you and him on various dates - one you stopped to pour over was of the two of you at a diner in Brooklyn, you taking the photo and Jack taking a sneaky swipe of your sundae in the background while you were distracted. You remembered that day so well: he’d just come back from a particularly rough mission in Russia, one that he’d had to stake out for weeks, so it was the first time you’d seen each other in about a month. You looked at how happy you were in that picture, the sight of such joy bringing tears to the corners of your eyes. What you wouldn’t give to have those days back, the easier times, before the distance, the fights, the feelings of being second place to a ghost and of course, his own tragic death at the end of it all.

At last you made your way to his bedroom, clutching onto the stack of photo frames as if they were a lifeline. You fought with everything in you the urge to just drop everything and crash down onto his bed, cradling one of his shirts in your hands to try to get a whiff of him, pretending that he was still there for only a few seconds. Rather, you walked over towards his bedside table and set the stack of frames down, crouching to your knees and biting back the teardrops threatening to fall from your eyes. It’s ok. You don’t have to do it all in one go. Just gather together some of his personal stuff, and then you can leave.

Opening the drawer, your eyes flitted between the various trinkets and things he’d accumulated, searching to see if there were anything personal that his family might want back when your gaze was instantly drawn to a stark white letter shoved towards the back of the drawer. Scooping it up in your hands, you furrowed your brow as you inspected it further, only to have your breath catch in your throat once you saw your name written in his unmistakable cursive on the front.

Immediately you stood yourself up from the floor, your mind rushing into overdrive while you stared at the letter in your palms, hesitantly trailing your fingers up to the top of the envelope to tear it open. Out of all the things to find in Jack’s drawer, you definitely weren’t expecting this. You had no clue what it could be, when it was written or even if you should read it at all. Should you just put it back in the drawer and pretend you never found it? Though you supposed it was a bit too late for that, on account of you practically ripping the top of it open. With a hint of uncertainty, you reached into the envelope and lifted the letter out onto your lap, opening it to reveal its contents.

The first thing you noticed was the date in the top right corner - April 22, two weeks ago, a day before he went on that mission and met an unkind fate. That alone was enough to make your heart stop, so when your eyes travelled down the page to read the rest of the letter, you might as well have dropped dead right then and there from the sheer pain that was struck through your heart.

I was a damn fool for letting you get away. You and I both know that my dearly departed wife will always hold a special place in my heart, and I know you understand that. I didn’t want to admit it until now but I had been becoming distant - every time you brought up marriage, or anything more I’d get scared. Scared of...well, a lot of different things. Of repeating the same tragedy with you, in some way. Some part of me was worried marrying you would be dishonoring my late wife’s memory as well. It’s no wonder you walked out when you did. I don’t blame you for your choice, but please allow me to say my piece at least. You never were second to anyone, sweetheart. As much as I will always love Lily, my heart belongs to you here and now. Missing you like this is such sweet sorrow, won’t you come back to me? No matter whether or not you chose to forgive me, or even entertain the idea of givin’ me another chance, I just want you to know that I love you, honeybee. I’ll be waiting for you today, tomorrow, and forever, down in dark blue Tennessee.

- Jack

Every word you read was like another stab to the heart for you, the tears that you had fought so hard to keep in now pouring down your cheeks, small sobs escaping your throat as you collapsed back to the floor with a thud, your heart racing a million miles a minute. There it was, all written down in hasty cursive script - the apology that he never got to give, hidden away in the back of his bedside drawer like an afterthought. Knowing him he’d probably written it out and intended to give it to you before he left for his mission but decided against it for whatever reason. And that final sentence...Tennessee. He mentioned Tennessee. The place where you’d grown up, where you’d lived almost your entire life before moving to New York. The place where you’d met Jack all those years ago, down in a local bar. You’d been visiting your parents for the week, he’d been there meeting with an investor for Statesman. By some stroke of luck you two had crossed paths, hitting it off and becoming infatuated within mere moments, one thing leading to another until eventually you’d woken up in his bed the next morning. The way you’d initially thought it’d only wanted a one night stand but then became something more. It was all flooding back to you now, triggered by only a few sentences written down on a letter that was never sent. You didn’t know what to do, or what to think. The only thing you could do in that moment was lean your head back against the bed and choke on your own sobs, muttering his name over and over for what felt like forever, holding the now crumpled and tear stained letter in your hands.

The hours ticked by, though you took no notice, and when you do eventually move, it’s not to leave the apartment. Your eyes barely leave the ground when you walk, stumbling from room to room in search of a bottle of wine or something stronger to drown your own sorrows in, kicking off your shoes haphazardly and without much care. When you bump against the liquor cabinet, you can hear something fall and shatter off the top, and when you walk back through the shards of glass with the bottles in your hands, you don’t even wince when one pierces your foot. With thin streams of blood trickling from the cut on your sole, you’ll flick the top off the first bottle you reach for, letting the lukewarm liquid slip down your throat, spiralling you down deeper and deeper into a drunken stupor until finally, the moment comes where you can close your eyes and slip into that familiar void of darkness that you greeted with open arms, those last conscious thoughts being an apology of your own that no one ever got to hear. I’m sorry, Jack...

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #Kingsman #kingsman fanfiction #Kingsman: the golden circle #Pedro Pascal

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