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skiller0dani · 3 years

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Bad Girl| Ethan Nestor

MASTERLIST YouTube Masterlist

smut requested requests info

hey guys it's been a while! Got this amazing request recently and I had to write it asap. love you all xx

Ethan didn't have many rules for you, but the most important one by far was to not bother him while he's streaming.

With the two of you keeping your relationship a secret there's just too much that can go wrong. He's live so if you came into the room, people could hear, rumors could start. More than anything Ethan wants to protect you so you coming into his recording room while he's streaming is completely out of the question. Normally you respected this rule without question, it was his YouTube channel after all, so he got to call the shots. More than that however, Ethan called the shots in other aspects of your life.

When it came to the sex, he called the shots in that too. But you always did what he said, and frankly, you felt like being a bad girl.

All day you've needed him, from the very second you woke up and the gentle morning sex he'd provided wasn't nearly enough to satiate you. You still felt that uncomfortable throbbing from between your thighs, and it lingered for most of the day. Any attempt you made to get his cock resulted in a soft kiss on the head and a "sorry baby I'm too busy today."

You laid back on the couch, irked to all hell. How could Ethan not see that he was depriving you? You pushed the heel of your hands into your eyes and groaned, your pussy was damp and aching and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it. Spencer sat happily at your feet chewing on a squeaky bone. At least one of you was happy.

You heard Ethan laugh from inside his recording room, he was currently streaming Among Us. You feel so frustrated you want to cry and when you glance at the clock you feel like crying all over again. It's only 1:30, and Ethan is only 20 minutes into his stream. Meaning at this rate Ethan won't be able to help you until later tonight. You whined to yourself, snaking your hand under the sleep shorts you were wearing. Your fingers found your clit and you began to rub small circles just like Ethan does. It does little to nothing to relieve the pounding in your core. Only Ethan can.

You stand from your spot on the couch to go grab a bottle of water, hoping that some cold water will help calm you down. You lean against the counter, sipping at the cold water when you remember the night before. Ethan had come home from filming with someone he doesn't know very well. The recording session was frustrating and he hadn't gotten any good footage, meaning the entire day was a giant waste of time. By the time Ethan had gotten back to the house he was beyond frustrated and the first thing he did was bend you over the kitchen counter and slam into you mercilessly. You feel a shudder run down your spine at the memory and you groan softly in annoyance. You're not going to survive the day like this.

You went upstairs and into your shared room with Ethan and sat on the edge of the bed, you're always such a good girl. You followed every rule and every command without too much complaint. And today Ethan told you to wait. His rule today was to be a good girl and wait for his cock until that night. But damnit you're so turned on right now you feel like you're going to combust into flames.

You don't want to be a good girl today. You feel like breaking the rules.

With a smirk you stand from the bed and creep down the hallway, nearing his recording room. Once you're stood outside the door you feel a rush of adrenaline rush through you, you've never broken this rule before. In all 12 months of your relationship with Ethan, you've never interrupted him while he's live streaming. You almost turn back but when you hear Ethan groan in annoyance it sends tingles down your spine and a fresh wave of arousal dampening your panties. Gritting your teeth you quietly open the door and watch as Ethan's surprised eyes flicker to you for a second.

You bite your lip and sink to the floor, luckily Ethan's desk doesn't have a back so you easily crawl underneath it.

Being careful not to bump the desk you slowly crawl in between Ethan's legs, and he instinctively spreads his legs wider for you. When he glances back down at you, you feel heat rush through your entire body at the angry look in his eyes. He raises a warning brow before turning back to the game and for a second you consider leaving, but the pulsing from between your legs stops you. You bite your lip and reach forward, carefully unbuttoning Ethan’s jeans and slowly pulling his zipper down.

Ethan tenses, his heart hammering in his chest as he does his best to act natural. This isn’t a regular video, he can’t edit anything out. This is being broadcasted live to nearly a million people. When he feels your dainty hands reaching into his jeans he sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Ethan you okay?” Bob asks, unfortunately for Ethan they decided to play Among Us with proximity chat on. Ethan clears his throat, “yeah stubbed my toe.” He lies but he knows it doesn’t sound very convincing.

You wrap your hand around his hardening cock and you nearly moan when you finally free it from his jeans. The sight of it makes you even more wet then you were before, it’s hard and precumming. It’s beautiful. You lean forward instantly and wrap your lips around the head, sucking softly. Ethan clenches his jaw as he focuses all of his attention on the game in front of him. He keeps his eyes firmly on the screen because he knows if he looks at you it’s game over. Ethan would end the stream and have you bent over this desk in less than 30 seconds if he saw the beautiful sight happening under the desk.

You keep your lips wrapped around him as you suddenly take all of him in your mouth. Ethan gasps softly in surprise, and this is when he notices the comments on his stream.

Ethan flashes a smile to the camera, doing his best to pretend he doesn’t notice that every single comment is about him and not about the game. Embarrassment floods through Ethan’s body as he keeps his eyes on his monitor. You continue to slide him down your throat, and Ethan’s eyes briefly flutter shut. When one comment pops up, Ethan panics.

what’s wrong Ethan??? he looks like he’s in pain someone should tell the other people on the stream bc ethan does not look okay right now ethan are you okay?

Shit. Ethan continues to ignore the comments, when did his fan base become little detectives? You bob your head down the full length of his cock, taking him into your mouth fully. It’s becoming increasingly harder to keep the sounds quiet so that nobody notices. When you swallow around him Ethan groans softly, “fuck.”

does eef have a girl over?? ;) omg ethan’s totally getting sucked off rn ngl ethan looks super fucking hot

“Ethan?” This time it’s Mark. You pull off Ethan and smirk as you pump his cock with your hand. The arousal is coating your thighs at this point and you nearly moan out loud just thinking about what Ethan is going to do to you after this.

“Ethan I’m getting some pretty interesting comments on my stream about you,” Jack says with a teasing tone to his voice. Ethan remains quiet, he doesn’t trust himself to say anything casually. “Got some company Ethan?” Jack says causing a chorus of laughter to ensue afterwards while everyone waits for another round to start. “His silence is...suspicious.” Steven adds through the laughter.

Unable to focus any longer, Ethan releases a breath he’d been holding as he finally glances down at you. The sight before him stops him cold, you’re sitting on your knees with his cock in your mouth. Your breasts are spilling from the tight tank top you’re wearing and he can see the damp spot forming on the crotch of your shorts. His pupils blow wide as he quickly ends the stream and turns off the camera. The second he’s sure everything is shut off he pushes back from the desk and yanks you to your feet.

“You think that was funny?” Ethan growls when he sees the smirk on your face. In an instant Ethan has you pulled over his lap, “you think it was funny to suck my cock when I was live? I can’t cover any of that up baby.” Ethan says, his voice low as his hands find the waistband of your shorts.

“I need you.” You whined as he yanked your shorts down. Ethan hummed in satisfaction once he sees your glistening pussy. “Yes I can see that.” He hums, spreading your lips apart so he can look at you better.

“I just fucked you this morning baby girl, you couldn’t wait? I’m pretty sure I told you to wait until tonight.” He says, the dominance beginning to seep into his tone. You moaned in delight when you feel Ethan spank you hard. “I couldn’t wait Ethan, I needed you now.” You explain, with a pout on your face.

“Now all my friends know what a dirty girl you are, and now so do all my fans as well. We aren’t going to be a secret anymore baby, you just outed us.” Ethan explains, his fingertips brushing through your folds. You whine desperately as you try to grind back into his hand, but he pulls away. “It was time baby, oh my god Ethan please just fuck me please.” You plead shamelessly.

Ethan continues to rub the globes of your ass as you moan and wriggle in his lap, “hm I’m not sure you deserve it now baby. You didn’t listen to me, I’m not sure you deserve my cock anymore.” He says, a small smirk on his face when he sees the look of pure desperation cross onto your face. “No Ethan please, I’ll listen now. I-I will I promise baby!” Ethan taps on your hip, signaling you to stand. Once your stood in front of him you moan again, you’ve never seen him look sexier then he does right now.

His hair is messy and his chest his heaving, but the best part is between his legs. His cock is hard and his legs are spread wide, and the heated look Ethan is giving you makes you want to melt into the floor. “Go wait for me in our room.” Is all Ethan says, and you immediately scramble out of the room and down to hall to yours and Ethan’s bedroom. You sit on the bed and anxiously wait for him, your entire body buzzing in anticipation. When 10 agonizing minutes pass Ethan finally opens the door, his jeans still opened. “I’ve thought of a fitting punishment for you Princess.”

Ethan walks to his side of the bed before sitting down, pulling you to stand in front of him. “Since you don’t seem to like my rules, why don’t you be in charge then baby?” Your heart sinks, and you immediately shake your head.

“But I love it when you’re in control, I love following your rules.” You argue but Ethan shakes his head with a teasing smile on his face.

“I seem to have lost my authority, you don’t listen to me anymore baby. So you try being in charge, tell me what to do.” Ethan reaches forward and yanks you towards him. You fall against his chest, your lips a hairs length from him, “boss me around.” He whispers and you swallow a thick lump in your throat. You stand again, feeling anxious and unsure of what to do. Normally Ethan tells you what to do, but he just relinquished all control to you and you already hate it.

Ethan watches with knowing eyes, he knows already that you have no idea what to do. “Well? What do you want me to do baby?” Ethan asks, watching the blush crawl up your neck and tint the edges of your ears. You tremble, “um...I-” you feel your throat close as tears well in your eyes. In a second Ethan is pulling you into his arms, smoothing your hair down and pressing kisses to your head. You melt into his embrace while he mumbles loving words into your hair. “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to upset you.” Ethan whispers, pressing soft kisses to your head.

“Is that how you felt on the stream? Embarrassed?” You ask hesitantly and to your dismay, Ethan nods.

“Kinda, but it’s okay baby.” You lean up to press a kiss to his lips.

“I’ve learned my lesson, I promise. I know why you make those rules now.” You say softly and Ethan brushes hair out of your face with a small smile. “Can you be in charge again?” Instead of answering Ethan flashes you a smile before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Lay down baby.” In an instant the heat floods through your body again as you scramble to lay down on the bed. Ethan stands and swiftly yanks his shirt over his head, and motions for you to do the same. Sitting up you quickly pull your shirt off, watching as Ethan kicks his jeans and boxers off as well. Ethan hovers over you, and you feel his cock nudging at your entrance and in an instant you spread your legs wider for him. Ethan slides just the head of his cock into you and he stills. You wriggle your hips, “Ethan please,” You beg in a gasp.

Cupping your cheeks, Ethan turns your head to look him in the eyes. “No more bothering me while I’m live got it?” He says and you nod instantaneously. With one sharp thrust, Ethan slides the rest of the way in and both of you release a moan. Pressing his lips to yours he begins to thrust into you and you feel the heat building already. You wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back as he slowly picks up speed. Ethan pulls out, “bend over.” He gasps and you move to bend over the bed, already missing the stretch his cock provided. As soon as you’re bent over in front of him, Ethan grasps your hips and thrusts back into you.

Your face is pressed into the bed as you cry out softly, Ethan slamming into you again and again. “Fucking took my dick in your mouth in front of the entire world, you’re lucky they only saw me. If anyone else saw how beautiful you look with a cock in your mouth I think I’d lose my mind.” Ethan growls and you can only moan in response as your fists twist the sheets in your hands. You feel the coil in your abdomen winding tighter and tighter and when Ethan reaches around your body to softly pinch your clit you’re crying out and convulsing around him, leading him to his orgasm as well. You collapse against the bed and Ethan rubs a hand up and down your back before gently pulling out with a wince.

He helps you into bed and lays down next to you, pulling your bare body against his chest. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.” You say softly, but Ethan merely presses a kiss to your lips.

“Only a little, I couldn’t be bothered too much I mean you were sucking my dick. Doesn’t get better than that.” Ethan shrugs, causing you to blush. You sit up when Ethan stands from the bed, reaching around for his clothes.

“Now if your unusually high sex drive has been fully satisfied, I have some explaining to do.” Ethan teases, causing you to giggle. With a kiss to your sweaty forehead Ethan is exiting the room, and you lay back against the bed with the widest smile stretched across your face.

#ethan nestor #ethan nestor imagine #ethan nestor smut #crankgameplays imagine #crankgameplays #youtube #youtuber smut #under the desk

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hee4won · 3 years

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snow days w/ en- !

requested: no. (requests are open! see rules)

warnings: SWEET SWEET SUPER CUTE LOVELY BOYS

a/n: long time no see besties, a gift from me to you 😈 (all jokes aside i hope you like this okay i think fluff is needed rn, heart you all)

heeseung

this boy loves snow

i am solely basing hee’s off of that one pic of him in the really nice coat out in the snow

bc i’m madly in love with him

anyway HE is the one to excitedly tell you about the snow first

he seems like the type to facetime at night and hang up in the morning (like a virtual sleepover)

continuation under the cut!

esp if he’s too busy to meet with you

and if he wakes up first and you’re still in the call he’ll be like

“baby 🥺 baby 🥺”

😧 you are SLUMPED

“Y/N WAKE UP THERES SNOW”

and THAT gets you up ofc bc he was yelling super loud 😇

so now that you’re up you have approximately hmm let’s see

oh! heeseung is at your door rn.

“good morning baby, it’s time to go to my favorite cafe :]”

“the one you said was perfect for snow days?”

“of course! now get ready” who needs small talk ig

you’re still tired but oh my goodness how could you say no to him

so you wash up and come back out to see hee on the couch looking out the window watching the snow fall

he’s adorable, you’re a simp. simple 😄 (see what i did there)

after the cafe date you guys just do some walking around and take cute pics of and with each other

so lovely <3

jay

jay will use any excuse he can to go shopping

and spoil you ;)

“oh, jay, look it’s snowing!”

he’ll admire the sight with you for a while until a little 💡 goes off in this man’s head

“what material is your coat?” oh boy

“uhhh, idk why?”

“do you think if we take a walk outside you’ll get cold?”

“i mean. . . yeah” AND OFF TO THE MALL U GO!

apparently you need cotton material on the inside and leather on the outside to ensure that your body stays warm

Okay Jay.

so you guys are like, shopping for hours and hours on end

hes making you try things on

after the items have been inspected by the clothing genius ofc

and after 5 hours of shopping you’re like

“jay, i just wanted to make snow ducks but now i think i’m gonna drop dead 🙁”

“okay fine we can check out”

you left with like 10 new additions to your closet and jay left with the pride of feeling like boyfriend of the year

which he is! good for him

oh and you did get to make your snow ducks, okay turn that frown upside down baby

jake

oh my goodness

jake loves snow days for THREE reasons:

cuddle by the fireplace, hot coco, and movies w his baby

you already know that once you see snow falling down you should alr be making your way to jake’s place

he’ll make the boys clear out so he can make a cute little blanket fort

and you bring the marshmallows (or whatever you like in your hot chocolate)

the moment you open the door you’re greeted with a cute jake sitting in front of the fort

he gives you his signature wide smile with a few giggles as he stands up to hug you

a jake sim please and thank you ❤️

you are 100% without a DOUBT watching the wondeful polar express

btw jake is afraid of that one puppet scene (so am i, it’s awful)

so pls hold him super tight

you’ll most likely fall asleep in that position

and of course the boys got pics of it

sunghoon

okay. you guys are finding a skating rink (@hooniee hehe hi bb)

even though it doesn’t have to be cold in order to go to one

he says it just, “feels right”

and if you can’t skate he will most definitely teach you

tries his best to let you go on your own but every time he lets go you go *plop*

he does indeed laugh okay and you can hear him but once you get back up and look at him he’s like

“😐 what” “remember when you said you didn’t need my help”

gosh he’s so annoying but don’t get me wrong

he finds your independence and clumsiness very cute

if you just can’t seem to get the hang of it he’ll take you outside

and you two will just start dancing in the snow

this time both of you end up on your butts

and sunghoon wouldn’t have it any other way

sunoo

he strikes me as the type to go out to eat then go home and cuddle all day

i really don’t think cold weather is his thing so it’ll be a cute date and comfy clothes

so you guys will definitely be going to a bakery to get some sweets

“sunoo, i couldve made us some cookies instead of spending money”

uh. . . whos gonna tell you

“i wanted only the best sweets for my sweet 😊”

very good save, sunoo, very good save

he has matching pajamas for when you get to spend a snow day together

naps naps naps

my goodness someone would think you two haven’t slept in ages the way you’re in that bad

so many cuddles oh wow he’s so warm

best. snow day. ever.

jungwon

you two are jumping like KIDS

which yes once again you kinda are but anyway.

you’re on the way to the store

getting ready to bake some cookies!

playing in the snow on the way

occasionally throwing little snowballs at each other and making snowmen on the sidewalk

“y/n, look! i made a little snow you!”

he even gave it a snow scarf so snow you wouldn’t be cold

HES SO CUTE someone help me

once you guys are back from the store it is time to get your baking on

🧑‍🍳🧑‍🍳 this you?

now i won’t say it was a total disaster

however

for some odd reason you two did not think about going by the recipe 🤔

“just wing it! it can’t be that bad”

it was definitely that bad.

but you two had fun nonetheless and THAT is what matters 🙏

ni-ki

i hope we’re all on the same page when i say

you two are having a snowball fight

any sort of competition thag involves throwing things

it is happening.

snow duel, which the other boys have to call to make sure there is no cheating

snow soccer(?)

the real competition is making sure your snowball is hard enough to withstand being kicked without falling apart

you two are very creative i must say

“RIKI YOU CAN’T THROW IT AT ME IF I’M NOT LOOKING”

“all is fair in love and war.”

“yeah war, NOT snowball fights 😐”

the boys are laughing so hard at the both of you it’s crazy

jake and sunghoon are just sitting and talking like old men saying

“i remember when i was that young”

you guys are barely 20 let’s slow it down okay

overall, super eventful day and you are both passed out in the living room afterwards

how cute

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ahtsumu · 4 years

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hc/scenario with akaashi, oikawa, & atsumu slow dancing to the beat of your hearts, in the quiet stillness of the night. ❤

slow dancing hcs with akaashi, oikawa, and atsumu

genre(s): tooth-rotting fluff

warning(s): nope!

a/n: i hope this is what you were picturing in your mind !! thanks for the request :)

[ akaashi ]

it’s almost midnight when you and akaashi finally step out of the local cinema hand-in-hand, the rom-com you just watched still fresh in your minds

it’s been raining all day and the puddles in the road look more like mirrors reflecting the glow of the streetlamps lining the sidewalk

the two of you live in an apartment just 10 minutes away so you decide to enjoy the beauty of the city at night and the cool evening air by walking home

you’re chattering on about how romantic the male lead in the movie was

and although akaashi’s listening and nodding to everything you say, on the inside he’s like… wait but that guy literally slayed a mf dragon for her?? is that the new standard ????!!

akaashi isn’t very loud with affection in public–– he’s always been the kind of boyfriend who keeps things subtle and prefers to simp out in private–– and because he’s aware of that, now he’s wondering if this is your attempt to tell him to be more open with pda

tbh you don’t really mind since he’s so affectionate when you’re alone but at the end of the day you’re still a sucker for grand romantic gestures and nothing can change that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

anyway it’s been a good 10 minutes that you’ve gushed about this fictional man now, and he’s had e n o u g h

he’s not mad, just kinda jealous irritated

something in him is like “I CAN BE ROMANTIC TOO !!!!! >>:((” but since he’s mr. cool calm and collected, he starts scheming and he actually comes up with a pretty solid plan

ngl he stole it from another rom-com you made him watch LMAO

akaashi starts humming the song from the end credits of the movie you just watched and lifts his arm up, suddenly twirling you under it

which shuts you right up because you’re STUNNED that he’s doing something so sweet like this

and when he sees your entire face light up by this one tiny gesture, he’s like wait why have i never done this before

so, still humming the same tune under his breath, akaashi closes the distance between you, placing his free hand on your upper back

he leads the dance, stepping forward and sideways then backwards again, staring into your eyes with the utmost adoration

you get so lost in your own little world that neither of you realise when the humming has stopped and the two of you are just dancing around pools of silver underneath the streetlamps at midnight to the sound of a city at rest and the gentle drumming of your hearts

[ oikawa ]

a knock at the door at 2 am was the last thing you’d expected that night, placing right behind a follow-back from guy fieri on twitter and the live-action avatar movie being wiped from humanity’s collective memory

thankfully, it’s not an axe-murderer waiting outside your door. through your security panel screen you see your boyfriend standing in the dimly lit hallway with his suitcase beside him, home one day earlier than the day he originally told you

without hesitation, you fling the door open with the widest smile your face can sustain, briefly forgetting how tired you are

“tooru!!”

“hi,” is all he breathes out before he encases your body in a bone-crushing hug

when his arms finally loosen around you, he explains that he came straight to you from the airport instead of stopping at his own place because he couldn’t stand the thought of being without you for another day

and when you tease him for being clingy (he knows you love it though) he huffs and says, “i spent one whole week without you–– you can deal with one night with me” AS IF THAT’S A BURDEN LMAO HE KNOWS IT ISN’T

after you let him into your apartment he rolls his suitcase off to the side before plopping down on the sofa with a groan

“c’mere, babe,” he murmurs, stretching his arms out in your direction

you try to pull him off the sofa and make him shower so that the two of you can go tf to bed–– you can tell he’s tired by the bags under his eyes

but once he’s upright, he snakes his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck

“but i missed you so much :( i don’t wanna go to sleep just yet”

“then what do you have in mind bc it’s 2 am tooru i’m not going to make couples’ tiktoks with you like last time”

but his original train of thought vanishes and all of a sudden he’s Vulnerable Oikawa™ because it’s Sad Boi Hours

“i miss you every time we have to leave to play a game”

“i know”

“and even when we’re in the same country i miss you”

“…”

“i’d miss you a lot less if you moved in with me”

you are s p e e c h l e s s

moving in together is something that you guys have always discussed but no one’s ever said it with so much conviction

obviously you want to say yes IMMEDIATELY but also you wanna make him sweat a bit

so you say, “hmmm i don’t see the appeal” with a cheeky cheeky grin

“for starters,” he says with a chuckle, interlacing one hand with yours and pressing the other against the small of your back, “we’d be able to slow dance all night”

just fyi you melt

time flies right by as you two spin in circles slowly around your living room, the only light in the apartment coming from silvery moonlight pouring through the windows, the last sounds heard throughout the apartment being a gentle “yes”, a relieved chuckle, and then a kiss

[ atsumu ]

“sorry i ruined prom for ya”

you remain silent atop the hood of his car with your out-of-focus gaze on the city below, legs swinging back and forth lightly

“y/n?” atsumu leans forward, resting one arm on the opened car door and the other on the roof. “ya there?”

finally, with an uneven voice, you say, “it wasn’t your fault”

atsumu sighs and, although his ego is like don’t you dare do it don’t–– he reluctantly says, “i shouldn’t have shoved him into the punch fountain”

at that, you look over your shoulder, meeting his gaze for the first time since the two of you were thrown out of the neon-lit, streamer-littered gymnasium in a spectacularly mortifying manner

“it wasn’t your fault,” you say again, but this time you actually mean it because you aren’t sad that your prom experience has been ruined by your best friend shoving your prom date into the punch fountain… you’re sad that you even agreed to go with said prom date in the first place

because then, you think wistfully, fighting the urge to look backwards, maybe–– just maybe–– you could’ve gone with someone else

suddenly you hear atsumu rummaging around in his car and seconds later, the faint sound of a guitar strumming pulses gently through the speakers

as he steps out from the driver’s seat, he cups his hands to his mouth and announces in his best impression of your PE teacher and prom chaperone for the night, “ATTENTION STUDENTS! this is the last slow song of the night so don’t miss yer last chance to dance with that special someone”

and then he’s standing just inches away from you with his hand stretched out between you, brown eyes peering hopefully into yours

“well... ya heard the guy”

and you’re like “what?” special someone?

“stop bein’ a blockhead and do me the honour of lettin’ me have this dance,” atsumu teases with a smile on his face but on the inside he’s like omg... am i rlly being rejected rn

your heart is about to COMBUST but you somehow keep it together and slide your hand into his with a completely lovesick grin

he pulls you off the hood of his car, tenderly cradling your head against his chest in one hand and wrapping the other one around your waist

the two of you stay with your bodies intertwined, gently swaying against the backdrop of the city below with your head tucked into his neck, even after the song fades into nothing, even after the nighttime breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, even after the only sound that can be heard in the clearing of the hill is your two heartbeats syncing into one

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honey-hippie-harper · 3 years

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Infrangible

AFGHSAGHJS THIS IS SO LATE IS NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE LMAO

In my defense, I stopped being a person long ago and now, in all the ways except physical, I happen to be a potato. BUT ANYWAY :’) This is for the Renegades Ship Week hosted by @greasicookies <3 (Thanks again!), for day 5, which is Maxpie. The prompt is “secrets”! <3

I had a tough time writing this because I’m going through a lot of stuff rn :’) still, I hope you can enjoy it x’ddd.

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @the-wee-woo-rita and afsghagshja @all-weather-is-bad (because this is a very...me fic lol and I think you’re already used to my sad attempt at humor haahahaah i’M SORRY AGSHJAKL) AND @lackadae because agshjs I made a reference to one of your drawings, hon :’) (I promise once again, to catch up with your content once I feel better afsghjak).

And that’s it. I hope you like it <3

When Max turned nine, he reached the conclusion that everybody forgot their early years at some point. Before, Adrian had already explained to him that wasn’t quite true, because he misunderstood Max’s statement and thought he was feeling bad about himself for not being able to recall certain things. He told him that, unlike what he thought –which was false because that’s not what Max meant- people usually couldn’t store those memories from when they were younger than three.

“Some people do.” He said. “But it’s normal if you don’t remember anything from when you were…I don’t know. Two.”

“Do you remember anything from when you were two?” Max asked him.

From the other side of the glass, Adrian scrunched up his nose. And then, obviously, he saw himself in the need to adjust his glasses.

“I’m not quite sure whether I was two or not. But I do know I was younger than five.” He started. “There was a small canal on the way to the apartment. When it rained, it would grow a lot. It didn’t have big torrents or anything, but it did grow a lot. The water usually went higher than my ankles. But the thing was…that every time it grew, it became infested with turtles.”

He paused for a second.

“I really liked turtles.” He continued, shrugging. “My mother used to let me walk down to the water, as long as she was right behind me, obviously; one day, when we were coming back from the city, she stopped to attend a call. I got too impatient and went down alone when she wasn’t looking. The next thing I remember is that, just when I was getting up after catching a turtle, I felt her tugging me by the back of my shirt. The turtle fell on its shell.”

At that point, Max realized he had been staring at how he kept on fidgeting with his pen instead of looking him in the eye, but he continued doing so, because he didn’t like it when Adrian’s voice turned that serious.

“…She had never screamed at me like that.” He said, as if he were talking to himself and then, to erase the tension, he tried to scoff. “I don’t remember what she said, but I remember that she said it so loud I told her she was scaring the turtle. Then I started crying. Like, a lot. I think she was terrified too.”

In the end, everything turned too quiet for his liking, and Max did something his dad had advised him to do for times like these, when he just didn’t know what came next: Improvise.

“I didn’t know you liked turtles.”

“…Well, I did. I really liked turtles when I was younger.”

Max had seen a couple of turtles in his life, but not as many as Adrian had seen, he supposed, because Max had never stepped outside, except when he was a baby.

Which was exactly the point.

He didn’t have memories from when he was a baby, or a toddler. Most of the people who had come to talk to him had said they remembered events that were either too sad (like Adrian) or meaningful in their lives. Max didn’t have anything like that. In fact, his first –very blurry- memory was standing on the edge of the quarantine, with his hands pressed against the crystal, and then licking it.

According to his dads, he was between three and four (“He was three, Simon. What are you talking about?” “He was born in November.” “It wasn’t November yet.” “We had just celebrated his birthday. He was four.” “HE WASN’T FOUR, SIMON! HE WAS THREE! THREE! We were celebrating that his quarantine had just been built!” “IT WAS THE SAME EVENT, HUGH!”) and Aunt Tamaya, plus the both of them, were in the hallway. For some reason, the fact that his eyes were so huge (they were still big. But they were bigger when he was a baby) came off as odd to Tamaya. And the moment they made eye contact, he licked the glass.

Nobody knew why. Not even himself. The adults remembered it better than he did, of course, but none of them had ever been able to guess the reasoning behind it. They often expressed Max had been a very strange baby, mostly because of his lack of social skills. It’s not like he had chosen that, and it’s not like his fathers would’ve allowed it to happen if they had had any other option. But Max wasn’t willing to stand there and pretend that he knew what he was doing, either.

Most of the time, he didn’t.

He barely held any memories of the nurses that had ever been in charge of his care, but, for obvious reasons, he remembered Dad. It was always easier to remember the person who had taken care of you the most, he supposed. And Max knew, among a lot of things, that it wasn’t his other dad’s fault. Though, sometimes, he couldn’t help but blame him.

Again, he didn’t know why, but there were those days, when he needed he the most, where a voice inside of his head told him that, if Simon loved him enough, he would just sacrifice his powers to be with him. His powers weren’t that useful for combat anyway.

“Okay, but that’s kinda mean.” Adrian told him the first time he opened up about it, the night before he attended the Trials to choose the members of his patrolling team. “Pops might not have combat powers, but they’re as important as the rest of the members’. That’s why they work so well as a team, you know? Every power can be extremely helpful during a battle, as long as you know how to use it.”

Max wasn’t doing anything in particular that day. Nothing besides listening to Adrian and sitting on the floor , at least.

“But if every power is useful…” He said, tilting his head to the side. “…Why are you allowed to reject certain aspirants?”

Adrian frowned a little, not in the sense that he looked angry at Max. Rather, he was confused by the question and was trying to word the answer in a way that sounded rational.

“Because…” He gulped and clicked his tongue. “…Like I said…uhm…the Council is an extremely good team. They’ve been doing this for a while. Us, the patrolling leaders are…allowed to reject certain prodigies because we don’t have as much experience as them. And…we might not know how to use somebody’s powers, and that’s very dangerous. We don’t want people dying, do we?”

When he said that, something clicked inside Max’s brain, and he nodded in automatic. Obviously, a few years ago, a non-prodigy teacher had taught him how to read, and the moment Adrian notified him it was his year to be in the Trials, he managed to read the manual and the rules for the event, from a booklet and a pamphlet (respectively) he had asked his dad to bring for him. He didn’t get much new information, different from the one he heard on TV or the one presented in the posters. However, amongst the rules, there was a section that talked about banned powers, which contained only two categories:

-Complete telekinesis.

-Stardust modelling.

“Yeah.” Dad told him. He was bathing him in the quarantine’s bathroom (Of course. Where else?). “Stardust catchers…which….are able to model stardust, are extremely dangerous and there’s not much research about them. Nobody really knows how they work, and it would be pretty difficult for us to… handle a prodigy like that.”

“Like me.”

Dad had always had a pretty specific routine he had to follow when bathing him. If he missed or misplaced a step, he acted like would explode or something. Also, Max didn’t understand why, but ever since he started growing thicker hair, Dad became pretty strict on the fact they should take care of it so it would grow healthy. Hence why they had a full hair routine that they did in the bathtub. That day, the statement caught him so off-guard he grabbed the wrong bottle, and then, when he realized it, he was already pouring the dense liquid (that looked more like a paste to him) on Max’s head. Cursing under his breath, he placed his other hand in the middle so it would fall over his palm, washed Max’s head and started the routine all over again, before changing the subject:

“About complete telekinesis…there’s obviously a lot of research about that power. We know how to manage with that. But telekinetic prodigies are not …very accepted in our society. They’re pointed at…Frowned upon. In the worst of cases, other prodigies hunt them down and then kill them.”

In that moment, Max came to the conclusion that all that changing the subject thing had been in vain.

Because, from his part, the answer was exactly the same:

“Like me.”

And Dad didn’t like that, for he started scratching his scalp harder, accidentally.

“No. It’s nothing like you.” He said. “You’re not like that, Max. Society hates telekinesis because some evil dude decided to use his powers, his telekinesis, for awful reasons and stained prodigy’s names. You’re not like that. You’re not abusive, or selfish or evil. And I don’t want to hear you comparing yourself to him ever again. Understood?”

To this day, that was the most aggressive form of validation someone had ever given him, but Max took it anyway, because he trusted Dad, and if he had said something like that, then there had to be a clear reason behind it.

“Understood.” He whispered.

And he tried, he really tried, to believe it. But, like many other things, no matter how hard Max tried, he was still severely confused. Not that he didn’t know about the Age of Anarchy, or the parties involved in the Age of Anarchy.

The quarantine, needless to say, could get pretty boring most of the time. Max had to do a lot of things to kill time, and some of those activities involved reading books that children shouldn’t be reading. He did read some children’s books, but then he would find himself looking through history articles and books, and reading the chapters that interested him the most. For instance, he was confident he knew about the Age of Anarchy, but one thing was knowing about it, and another, different thing, was having an opinion about in regards to it.

Max didn’t know if he had something to say about the topic. If he did, it was a very incomplete idea, and it was very likely he wouldn’t be able to phrase it correctly.

The group of people Max talked the most to were adults, and those adults, especially the ones who had experienced the Age of Anarchy and somehow managed to make it out alive, refused to talk about it. As for the few children he had talked to…

Well, about them…

Long story short, they had lives.

They all had lives outside of a glass, unlike Max. Maybe they weren’t the most interesting of lives, but at least they for sure had to be more interesting than his’. They didn’t have a pre-established schedule, where a designated person would come in to feed him or extract blood samples from his body, to then take them to the laboratory. They didn’t have to hear a total of seven alarms to remind him what he had to do: Wake up and get dressed, have breakfast and brush his teeth, enter the virtual sessions with his teachers, take a shower, have his blood samples taken, start doing his homework –if he had any- and do whatever he wanted once he was finished, have dinner, brush his teeth and go to bed, and then start all over again.

That moment, when he had spare time, would be the same one normal kids used to go out with their friends, like Adrian did. To go to the park and get themselves a scarily huge wound at the center of their knee. To live. To breathe air. To do…literally anything that wasn’t this.

Because Max was different from the many children he hadn’t yet gotten the opportunity to meet or talk to, because, obviously, they wouldn’t want to spend the whole day hanging out with a person…like him.

The only way Max could see two out of the three people in his family was through a crystal wall. And he couldn’t kiss them, he couldn’t touch them… sometimes he even wondered if he knew how their voices sounded, because, after all, Dad’s voice sounded the tiniest bit different once he crossed that infamous glass door.

He couldn’t walk through the streets of Gatlon, because, for starters, he didn’t know them. And if he dared to go out there, he would get killed on spot for having accidentally neutralized a prodigy who didn’t want to be neutralized.

Other kids had nannies whom they complained about when their parents couldn’t look after them (at least that’s the kind of things he saw on the TV shows he watched) but Max had patrol units that would move from one corner of the room to another, ready to attack anyone who came closer than necessary to him, because the only one who could take care of him in person, was Hugh.

Other kids could go out freely, without being scared of anything at all. They could get hurt while having fun with their friends and family. They could laugh until they cried with them. They could hug them, sleep in the same bed as them. They could walk their pets, go on road trips, go to amusement stores, water parks…

They could experience the current world; watch all the new events that were happening every day, in first hand.

They didn’t have to read about the past, or the people from the past to keep themselves entertained. They didn’t have the need to do that. At all.

They were living the lives Max couldn’t have, because he was too dangerous for that.

And obviously, that’s why he couldn’t just…go around asking other kids about what was their favorite bug, their favorite planet…or their opinions about Ace Anarchy, and if Pops (Simon) saying “Alec, with an A as in Abusive Swine” made them laugh.

Besides, he hadn’t even met that many kids his age. Or kids, for that matter.

He was aware Adrian wasn’t exactly a grown up, but he wasn’t a kid either, so, he usually didn’t make it into that list.

In fact, just like the banned powers in that manual, there were only two kids in Max’s list of acquaintances.

Aunt Tamaya’s first baby was born without powers, when Max was like four years old, and his dads were way too excited about it (Weird thing to brag about out loud, honestly, because all the recruits in the Headquarters were betting ridiculous amounts of money on which powers the Thunderbaby would have –Max could hear them- and one day they just heard The Dread Warden storming into the hallway, euphorically screaming “GUESS WHAT, MY LITTLE CHERUB BABY? YOUR COUSIN IS ABSOLUTELY FREAKING POWERLESS!”), for they thought Max would finally be able to have a friend who was more or less his age. Dad was the one who brought him in, two weeks after he was born. He was still tiny, red and chubby, and wrapped in his three different blankets that way, he looked like a bloated marshmallow.

Aunt Tamaya, her husband, Pops, Adrian, Aunt Kasumi and Uncle Evander were outside (as always) waiting to see what happened…and, it was extremely odd for Max to admit it, but he couldn’t remember much about that moment, even though he was already older than three. There was, however, a video taken by Uncle Evander where, if you narrowed your eyes hard enough, you could see the moment Max burst into tears right after kissing the baby’s cheek.

Neil was his friend.

At least, Max considered him to be his friend. Still, they had an age gap of four whole years, and a part of him was waiting until he was a little older so they could be on the same page. Because sometimes, when Neil couldn’t comprehend something semi-important that Max had just said, things could get pretty awkward, because there were occasions when, if Neil got too frustrated over anything, he would start crying, and his sobs often summoned his mother all the way from across the building. She never particularly tried to put the blame on Max. In fact, she hadn’t even glared at him not once, ever.

But she did choose to take him with her, into her office, or ask Adrian to babysit him while he calmed down. Afterwards, he usually didn’t come back to the quarantine.

“It’s not your fault, Max.” Pops would tell him, always. “It’s just that…Neil...he’s younger than you. There are things that might be…easy to you, but that are super complicated to him. And you might be able to do things that he can’t, and he can’t understand why he can’t, so he gets super confused and angry and that’s why he cries and Tamaya has to come and comfort him.”

“That, and because she’s like a...very freaky bird mom who hears her children cry and comes around with her super sonic enhanced sense of hea—“

“Hugh, don’t be rude.”

Every time they had that discussion in front of him, Max could never understand why Pops said Dad was being rude. He was right, to a certain extent. Aunt Tamaya was just…being a mom.

And that’s what moms did.

At least, that’s what Max had read and seen on TV because families like his’ were…super rare to find in his cartoons or favorite books. In fact, the times when he had seen himself represented in any of the things were so few that, for the longest time, Max had this weird, messed up idea that biological men could give birth. He thought that Adrian, apart from the fact that he was the closest to him, looked more similar to Simon, and that had to mean he had given birth to him, while Hugh had been the one to give birth to Max.

One year, when Max was six, they finished Lady Indomitable’s gigantic golden statue, placed downtown. It was late June, and though the city had previously looked covered in colors, that day it just looked…white and golden. That’s the best way Max could find to put it into words.

According to Max’s weather application, the heat was unbearable that day (good thing he couldn’t feel anything because the temperature in the quarantine was always regulated) yet, according to what he was seeing in one of his screens, a great percentage of the citizens of Gatlon were marching in the streets carrying floating lanterns, headed towards downtown where the event was being held.

The Council was standing in front of the covered statue. All of them except Blacklight, who had stayed to take care of the Headquarters, and Max could see him from where he was. They gave a speech about Lady Indomitable together, and as they started revealing the statue, Tsunami sang a song that was supposed to be one of Lady Indomitable’s favorite ones, and that Max was too young to recognize (he supposed). In his opinion, it was a cute event, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t utterly confused the moment he saw Adrian taking one step ahead to be the first one to let go of his floating lantern, which was different from the other ones, because his’ was bigger, and it had a big “I”. Besides, people waited a couple of seconds until it was stable above their heads to let go of their own floating lanterns.

It still looked cute to him, but now it looked weird as well. So he got up from his chair, and walked towards the edge, pressing his hands against the glass. He hoped that would be enough to magically catch Evander’s attention, who was, at the moment, using his chair as a swing, as he typed a number in his computer, copying it from his calculator and eating from his salad every now and then. Obviously, Max’s telepathic call wasn’t enough, and he had to knock on the glass a couple of times, loudly. Even then, Uncle Evander didn’t look up in his direction.

But he did hear him, because he did respond.

“It’s not gonna work, Maximus. I’m not getting you out.”

As a side note, Max considered telling him his full name was Maximilian and not Maximus, because that was way before he realized it was a nickname. Nevertheless, he just let it pass, for the simple reason he had better things to ask. That’s why he proceeded to knock again, instead of speaking.

“What is it?”

“I wanna ask you something.”

Evander tried to steady himself in the chair without falling on his back, and once he succeeded, he came closer to the quarantine, with his arms over his hips.

“Why is Adrian doing that?” He asked, just because he wasn’t able to find another way to phrase it, while pointing at the screen behind him; Evander narrowed his eyes following his finger, as if he hadn’t been watching the event himself from a livestream on his phone. A few seconds later, he seemed to realize what he was talking about, and bit his upper lip, before pouting barely a little.

Then, he clicked his tongue.

“Because that’s his mom. And today’s her birthday.”

And it’s not that Max was insensitive enough not to recognize that it was very sad, but at the same time those single words were enough to make the idea he had of his life fall apart. All the things he thought he had already managed to understand felt fake and incorrect, and it was so fast it almost made him feel dizzy.

“She’s not his mom.” He declared.

Evander opened his eyes very widely and, next thing he knew, was that, for some reason, he looked nervous. Which, to say the least, was very…unlike Evander. He was usually super…confident, and, in Dad’s words: “He walks with his back too straight for a person who says some dumb shit every time he opens his mouth”.

At that moment, his back wasn’t straight at all, and he kept on wiping the sweat off his palms in the suit.

“…I mean…she’s not…alive anymore. But… that doesn’t mean that…”

“Noooo. I didn’t mean that.” Max cut him off. “She’s not her mom, because Adrian already has a mom.”

He stopped suddenly. Max could almost see his brain working at full speed, trying to process the data he had just received. Then, he blinked, arching his eyebrow.

“Who’s…who’s his mom?” He asked, getting closer to the crystal, and crouching down to be at Max’s height (Evander was almost too tall for his own sake). “Do Simon or Hugh…?”

“No. I mean she’s not his mom because Simon’s his mom.” Max stated, confident enough to move a mountain with his raw determination and his bare hands, which, needless to say, did nothing but make Evander even more confused.

Not that Max couldn’t understand why.

He was a brand new, redeemed person now.

But back then he wasn’t.

“…Simon is what, you said?”

“Adrian’s mom.” Max reaffirmed.

Still bewildered, Evander gawked. Perhaps he understood where that confusion was coming from but, at the same time, maybe he was too disturbed to ask for additional information. Max didn’t know which one of the two would make him feel more embarrassed, especially taking into account the next thing Evander said:

“That is the weirdest shit somebody has ever said to me, and I’ve talked to the Puppeteer an unhealthy amount of times.”

He wasn’t the one who explained to him the way his own family worked. On the contrary, he immediately told his dads about it, and next time the both of them came to talk to him, they tried to make him understand the concept of homosexual couples.

And they failed.

Miserably.

And he was using that term, because after that talk, Max went through life for a while saying that his ethnicity was Gay, because both of his dads were gay. Over and over again, they tried to correct him, but nothing seemed to work, and Max kept on spreading the information that he was gay (something he didn’t know yet) until Aunt Kasumi decided to intervene and, for his birthday, she got him a children’s book called All in Rainbow, which, according to the information in the first page, was actually a translation from a Latin American book written by two lesbians (one of them non-binary) and illustrated by the same woman who had made the Anarchists’ and the Renegades’ graphic novels and was also a Latina.

That book was something similar to a gay encyclopedia. It was narrated by this girl named Phoenix, because it followed her throughout her school and her daily life, where she came across different people and families. After every short story, there was an informative section explaining everything in regards to the new person’s identity, including their flag, the meaning of said flag, and the explanation of certain terms. Max really enjoyed it, and, in fact, he ended up going through it more than once. When he tried to persuade Adrian into reading it too, he admitted he already had, when he was younger, and proceeded to make a comment about how pretty the name “Phoenix” was.

It was only then that Max was able to understand how his own family worked, and how freaking inept he had sounded when he decided it was a great idea to use it as an ethnicity.

That book was, in fact, the cue for all the grown ups in his life to start buying books for him, which he was grateful for, except for the one that he, ironically enough, had gotten from Uncle Evander. Sure, he appreciated that he had spent money on that, but Max didn’t appreciate the fact that the plot was about a dog that was sent away to a school for dogs but made everyone believe he was in jail so he could escape. The drawings were cute, but he just couldn’t find the moral of the story and he didn’t like that.

His dads, from their part, got him a book about two frogs that, at least to Max, acted as if they were a couple; Aunt Tamaya was the one of the short books without drawings.

As for Aunt Kasumi…she usually brought a lot of educational books; every time she overheard him expressing something that was making him confused, she brought him a book about it, including that time she heard him asking Ruby Tucker “So, are you always bleeding?” completely out of context.

Max supposed that it had a lot to do with the fact that Aunt Kasumi was in charge of Child Services, and she spent a lot of time with children, especially because she liked to volunteer in orphanages, having been in one herself when she was a little girl. She usually moved in prodigy orphanages, for she was one to know the poor conditions they sometimes presented.

And…to say the least, she wasn’t a woman of many words. She was very reserved with everything she did. And, besides, it was none of Max’s business. After all, he was just a kid.

But, in this case, it kind of involved him.

Kind of.

For the simple reason that there were two names in the list of people his age Max had talked to. The first one was Neil (who wasn’t even his age. He was just close to that) and the second one…

The second one involved Aunt Kasumi.

Just like people were able to overhear his conversations through the quarantine, Max was able to overhear the conversations they were having on the outside, especially when he was trying to do it on purpose.

Every time he was too bored, in other words.

Some of the things older people said were confusing, but, over time, Max had learned to store that information, so he could comprehend it better in the future. He didn’t know at what level that was healthy, yet he still did it because, literally, he didn’t have anything better to do.

During extremely busy days, the Council chose to spend the night in the Headquarters, just in case, and while they could sleep in the common room, if Pops was too insistent on wanting to be close to the quarantine, they slept in the hallway.

In Max’s hallway.

Of course, Dad would sleep with him inside the quarantine but, in order to make it feel more like a pajama party, they slept close to the edge of the “room” (if it could be called that way), so close to the Councils’ inflatable beds, they could’ve touched them if there hadn’t been a wall in between.

When they were sleeping in that hallway, there wasn’t a patrol looking over Max, because they were the patrol and, every two hours, they changed turns to stay awake. All of them except Dad, who stayed the entire night with Max. The others often got up and started walking around the quarantine according to their ages. That is, Aunt Tamaya went first, followed by Pops, then Aunt Kasumi, and Uncle Evander at the end. However, since it wasn’t like they were too used to having many hours of sleep, Kasumi and Evander usually got up at the same time and patrolled together.

That night, Max was having trouble sleeping. Dad was hugging him, which made him feel very comfortable, but, at the same time, before he wrapped his arms around him, he had been moving way too much, and that had made Max feel uneasy, because a part of him, though he knew it was highly possible it wasn’t true, was feeding the annoying worm at the back of his brain that told him he was the one making Dad uneasy. That Dad was moving and couldn’t sleep because he didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Pops. Perhaps he would’ve preferred to be with Adrian, even. Anyone but Max.

Which, again, he knew things…weren’t like that. But that little, nameless, uninvited worm was always telling him that, over and over again, determined to repeat those awful words until they made so much noise they made him cry.

And even then, when he was already crying, the worm ate deeper into his brain and told him to stop because, in the end, who was he crying for anyway?

Who was he crying for, if nobody was here to see or hear him?

That night, of course, he didn’t cry, for the simple reason that…well, he did have somebody who would hear him cry, and maybe comfort him like Aunt Tamaya comforted Neil when he was crying…

But he didn’t want Dad to do that.

Not today.

Not because he were mad at him, but because he feared that, if he did, then Dad would be the one who would get mad.

Besides, that night he got extremely busy trying to overhear the conversation between Kasumi and Evander who, the moment they got up, started talking as they walked, first at a volume so low their voices could’ve been considered murmurs, but then, with every second, the issue started escalating.

And it wasn’t that they were arguing, it was that they weren’t exactly happy with each other, nor did they seem to manage to get to a mutual agreement.

Max felt like that time he was watching a movie with his earphones on, and instead of paying attention to the plot, he kept trying to identify which sounds were dominant in his left ear, and which ones were dominant in his right ear, because Uncle Evander and Aunt Kasumi were walking around the quarantine, and the echoes of their voices were floating right behind them, making it almost impossible for Max to decipher their messages word by word.

At least, until they stopped in front of him. That is, very close to the inflatable mattresses, too. And with just one eye open, he was able to tell Aunt Kasumi wasn’t amused, with her arms so tight across her chest that way, and with Uncle Evander standing more straight than necessary (because, yes, Dad was right about that...sometimes... because Max had read somewhere that tall people had to be really careful with their posture to avoid spine deformities or have less complications when they were older) waving his –as Aunt Tamaya would’ve called them- Hot Cheeto fingers right in front of her face, in a way so aggressive she sometimes had to lean backwards not to get one of her eyes poked out.

“…and it won’t look good for the organization. It won’t look good, Kasumi. You know why?”

“Yes, Vandy. I know why. I already knew before, yet you took the time to explain it to me another seven times. I mean, thank you, I guess, but—“

“If I kept on explaining it to you, it’s because I didn’t…and I don’t know what’s not clicking.”

“What do you mean with what’s not clicking?” And she tilted her head to the side. “…Are you still talking to me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Kasumi. Especially not in front of me, because I know you.”

“Right. But I still don’t get what you’re referring to. What’s not clicking about what, exactly?”

Evander laughed in a way Max would’ve just…understood if she had decided to punch him in the face so he would stop.

“We’re a big organization, Kasumi. People talk.”

“Of course that people talk. I mean, our citizens support our cause and our government system. In fact, statistically, more than half of the population do, but sometimes there are things that… are for their own good but they will refuse to understand and accept them anyway. And that’s normal. We might be the law, but we can’t control how the masses think, you know?”

“For their own good, you say. Beneficial.”

“Exactly.”

“Beneficial for who, if you’d be so kind?” Evander laughed again. “As far as I understand, we’re talking about one single problem, from a single person. It won’t bring anything beneficial, as you call it, for our organization, or for our system…if anything, it will damage it and make us lose credibility.”

“…Why?”

As a response, he started flapping his arms around, as if he were trying to point at something invisible. Or at something that wasn’t really there.

And this time, Aunt Kasumi didn’t try to pretend she was seeing it, and remained silent until Evander realized he would have to make himself understood.

“Because…” He clenched his fists, sighing loudly, almost like he was certain he was right and Aunt Kasumi wasn’t. “Our policy. Remember that? You know, a thing that actually exists and you helped write?”

She didn’t respond.

“Our policy as Renegades, it’s that we shall keep our people safe, and that includes prodigy and non-prodigy citizens. We shall preserve their lives no matter the cost, and create a safe environment where all can coexist and protect each other. That means that no prodigy individual with questionable reasons is to be allowed to cross that gate and disturb the peace or, worse, put somebody’s life at risk.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Yes, you should be, because we wrote it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Evander, please. There’s no need to curse or—“

“…But you know what that means? It means that we can’t just…go against that policy and expect our citizens, our recruits, even, to still take us seriously.”

“Oh, but I’m following that policy because, as you might remember, we also pledged to assist anyone whose life was at risk, and people who, day by day, have to live under very vulnerable circumstances. It is our job to intervene and take them to a safer place, where their quality of life can improve, isn’t it?”

“It is, but that applies for people who aren’t dangerous to society.”

At that point, Max had both his eyes open, and he was seeing the scene more clearly.

In fact, everything was so clear, that he was able to read the confusion in Aunt Kasumi’s expression, even before she said:

“…This is a kid we’re talking about.”

“She is dangerous.”

“She’s not dangerous, Evander. She's a kid. Sure, her behavior has caused her to go bouncing from orphanage to orphanage like a rubber ball but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be helped, that doesn’t mean we should just turn our backs at her, and that doesn’t mean she’s dangerous.”

“You know damn well her behavior’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I am, because that’s the only thing that should concern us at the moment.”

“No, it’s not?”

“It is. Because she’s a kid…and, honestly, Vandy…” Aunt Kasumi sighed. “… I know we were raised thinking life is war, but… the truth is, people are not born evil. Or dangerous, for that matter. Take your time and think about it, and you can talk to me again once you’ve calmed down, because you must be pretty much aware I don't appreciate this tone. Besides, it’s not like this little argument is going to stop me anyway.” She shrugged.

“…after all, I already talked to Hugh.”

“…And what did he say?”

“It’s not my place to tell you that. Ask him.”

Max never knew whether he had taken that suggestion or not but, knowing Evander, he just assumed he hadn’t. And, to be honest, he never asked Dad about it either. He just stood and watched how everything proceeded to go down and chaos unleashed.

Though, he had to admit, unlike what had happened with other “big” events, this one specific chaos was rather discrete. A kind of well-kept secret.

In fact, the only explicit hint that something would happen in the next few days, was the little disturbance caused by Team Frostbite (it was always Team Frostbite. Max had no idea why everyone was so…willing to put up with their…issues so much, and without hesitation) when it was their turn to patrol around the quarantine and Evander came around, holding his notepad, and muttered something to them.

“Whom?!” Genissa Clark, Frostbite, snapped immediately.

Evander frowned and, judging by the way his moustache moved, he also pouted, before turning at Mack Baxter, Aftershock, to start talking to him instead.

“Do you have any idea of what she’s talking about?” He clicked his tongue. “Like…okay, nevermind…”

When Max looked up, he saw the exact moment when Evander realized he was listening to the conversation, so he lowered his tone once again. Yet, Max was still able to see the million ways in which Genissa Clark's face contorted and, in the end, the first second Evander shut his mouth, she declared:

“We’re not available for that. Perhaps that task should be assigned to Team Sketch or Team Peregrine. They’re always lollygagging around, it’s about time they get some real responsibi—“

“That’s a no, then. Alright. Thanks for your cooperation, Team Frostbite. Or, lack of, more likely. Do better next time, okay?”

If Max wanted to be honest with himself, it hadn’t taken him much time to realize he wasn’t fond of any of the members in Team Frostbite. Or Frostbite herself. In fact, he considered her to be almost insufferable, and, again, he couldn’t quite understand why they were allowed to boss everybody around. To a certain extent, they reminded him of the popular kids (who were also bullies) in every movie he had ever watched. They weren’t nice. Not even likeable.

Maybe Max was just very specific on the type of people he liked.

Or maybe he liked everyone and their mom, except Team Frostbite, because he didn’t know any better than that, while at the same time he knew better than liking Team Frostbite.

But he didn’t know better than liking Margaret White, because…well…

She hadn’t done anything particularly awful for him to have an opinion as strong as Uncle Evander’s about her.

She came on a Friday.

Not that she exclusively came to talk to him.

She, in fact, arrived alongside Aunt Kasumi, who was wearing her civilian clothes –High-waisted jeans and a baby blue shirt, damp with sweat because it was hot outside- and kept leaving her car key on every table that came across her, before coming back to it to grab them.

At first, Max wasn’t able to see Margaret very well, mostly because he was distracted with his online classes, and she was taken straight to Dad’s office, along with Adrian’s entire team. And though Max didn’t see much, he was able to catch a glimpse on how Adrian kept on trying to grab her hand, and she insisted on pulling away.

At some point, he had read about that too.

The Renegades accepted recruits from ages 14 and up, talking about patrolling. However, they had a child protection program, where, basically, they assisted orphan prodigy children with behavioral issues or, though only few people liked to admit it, potential to be a part of the organization when they were older. Adrian didn’t like it and, strangely enough, out of everyone, Evander didn’t like it either. Nevertheless, Evander was one to get more aggressive when it came to child recruitment, which, thankfully, wasn’t common at all.

In fact, those cases were so rare, that they referred to them as “exceptions”. After all, children were not allowed into the Trials. As far as Max knew, they weren’t placed in patrol units. On the contrary, they were given small positions in the organization, and their paychecks were directed to their respective savings account, something that Pops was in charge of. However, they could use that money for their personal needs or something they wanted to buy, as the few children recruits resided in orphanages around Gatlon and went back there after their shift was over. Max supposed that sometimes their caretakers refused to buy them something because it wasn’t good for their health and it must be very satisfying to tell them it was their money (That’s what Adrian always did when Dad refused to buy something for him).

(That, or he went and asked Pops for that same thing).

Usually, they could have cash withdrawals just by presenting their Renegade Recruit ID because, obviously, they didn’t have an official ID yet.

And not only that. The children recruits were assigned a patrol unit with older members to look after them, or help them with anything they needed. Taking into account the conversation he had overheard, he supposed that duty had fallen on Adrian’s team (A theory that was later confirmed to be true by Adrian himself).

They were never left unsupervised, just like Max.

The day Margaret arrived, for a couple of minutes, maybe hours, Max was submerged in his own little world, and in the assignment his last teacher had told him to do. It was just him, his colored pencils, his paper sheets, his notes, his head, his hands, and the miniature planet Earth that his quarantine supposed, against the real world that he had never stepped on.

But every now and then, a little piece of the unknown, mysterious real world came running to his encounter and talked to him, sometimes in the most sudden, unsolicited way.

Sometimes it was Dad opening the door without calling. Sometimes it was Adrian pressing a new drawing against the crystal. Sometimes it was Pops, making a little “Psst” sound to get his attention.

Sometimes it was three little knocks, and the girl that was producing them with her knuckles.

Back then, Margaret’s hair was longer, to the point where she could tie it in a high ponytail, decorated with a blue bow, which combined with his orphanage uniform: A white polo, with the institution’s symbol by the right side of her chest, beneath a cobalt blue skirt with suspenders, long white socks and black scholar shoes.

He saw her and recognized she was real the first time, but Max still gave himself a couple of seconds to grasp the fact that she was really there.

Well, not there-there.

That she was there, as in, through the glass.

And she was calling him, even if she wasn’t saying anything. In fact, she was just there, eating from a chocolate bar with puffed rice. Her free hand was still over the glass.

And she was waiting.

So, he figured he didn’t want to keep her waiting anymore, and leaving his task and his tools behind, Max walked in her direction. And like it always happened, he stopped right before bumping his forehead against the hard, translucent surface.

Margaret took another bite from her chocolate, with an arched eyebrow, but she said nothing. From afar, Max hadn’t been able to really appreciate her features, but now that he was closer, he realized she was taller than him; her small, brown eyes were making her lashes look bigger; her black hair looked thicker and he was able to conclude that her skin tone was more or less like Pops’, maybe a little darker. She had a mark over her cheek, and at first Max thought it was a mole or a birthmark…until, of course, he realized that moles weren’t (or, at least, shouldn’t be) purple, and realized it was a bruise.

He didn’t ask her about it. Adrian had once told him that there were people who might not want to talk about their bruises or open wounds, not because the stories behind them were painful to tell, but because they were too embarrassing and telling embarrassing stories was an inconvenience.

“…well… now that I think about it…” He said right after. “…That’s not it. No. Not really. Sometimes your wounds’ backstories are painful. Or sometimes…you just want to keep them a secret, you know? And secrets are…sort of important.”

He believed every word.

Hence why, instead of saying something too nosy about that bruise, a little slowly at first, Max started lifting his hand up, until he reached the spot where Margaret’s was, and pressed his palm there. When she stared at his palm in confusion, Max clarified:

“Hugh five. You know?" Max giggled a little." As in… the Captain? Hugh? ...No?"

She didn’t laugh. And that was odd because Adrian would’ve.

Margaret wasn’t Adrian, sadly. And, it seemed to be, she hadn’t had an older sibling to tell her that some things just…weren’t adequate as icebreakers to start a conversation. Because, like Adrian had said, there were certain things other people might not want to talk about.

“Are you sick?” She directly asked.

Max was still “pressing” his hand against hers.

Gulping hard, he felt his throat boiling hot, almost as if it were growing blisters.

“No.” He said in a hoarse voice. “Why?”

Not pulling away either, Margaret said:

“The other day, Sister Malinda brought a very tiny baby into the orphanage. They were so small they had to take them to the medical wing.” She took another bite from her chocolate, and kept on speaking with her mouth full. “I sneaked out of my room to see them, and they were inside this little glass box that helped keeping them alive. Sister Tam told me so.”

Max kept quiet for a while. He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t have a little curiosity about the name, but Margaret solved everything that had to be solved even if he didn’t ask her to.

“Sister Tam was named after Thunderbird. She’s younger than the other nuns.”

He guessed so.

Aunt Tamaya’s real name had been revealed to the general public on the 13th year into the Age of Anarchy, when she reappeared after being away for months thanks to an accident that involved Queen Bee and a cliff or something like that (Max couldn’t quite understand it, and Aunt Tamaya couldn’t remember much about it either. If she did, then she just didn’t desire to talk about it). It wasn’t a fun anecdote or anything like that but, according to his dads, the name Tamaya topped the lists for the most female-assigned names for at least a year, and the same thing happened in the 20th year into the Age of Anarchy...however, by the time she was buried, the world didn’t know Lady Indomitable’s real name, and for an entire month, people used Regina instead of Georgia. When Max asked why, Dad answered that, when attending public events, Lady Indomitable used to wear a pair of shiny golden R-shaped earrings that caused everybody in Gatlon to develop mass hysteria and made themselves believe that those Rs meant Regina, when in reality, according to Lady Indomitable herself, one of them meant “Rawles”, and the other “Renegade”. In fact, Oscar Silva (Smokescreen, one of the members of Adrian’s team) had once said that one of his cousins, who lived in Mexico, had been named Renata Regina (Though nobody knew what the heck that first name was, and Oscar had a really peculiar way to pronounce Regina) because she was born a few days after Lady Indomitable’s decease.

“I knew that.” Max lied.

“Sure, buddy. I bet you did.” Margaret chuckled. And there, Max realized she thought she was too clever.

Which, he didn’t doubt she was. He wasn’t in the position to state that. At least, not yet.

But what he was in the position to state, was that, if she thought herself to be clever, then it was his opportunity to think of himself as clever too. After all, he had been reading his whole life because he didn’t have anything else to do.

If Margaret was clever, then so was he.

“You’re talking about an incubator.” He said.

Margaret looked up out of a sudden (Max hoped she hadn’t gotten dizzy). He could still see the chocolate, that at this point should’ve been mush, stored in the inside of her right cheek.

“Uh?” She asked, struggling to keep her mouth closed.

Max gulped, and tapped the surface with his fingers.

“The thing where they put the little baby. It’s called an incubator. That’s where they put pre-term babies, because they’re not ready to survive outside of their mother’s womb. Sometimes their lungs don’t work on their own, sometimes their hearts are too fast or too slow…”

“You look too old to be a baby.” She observed. “Are your powers something related to that? Like, are you a baby who doesn’t look like a baby?”

For a second, Max thought about quoting Evander that time he had boldly stated that Simon was Adrian’s mom, but he didn’t because he wasn’t in the mood to curse.

“…No. First, this is not an incubator. And second, I’m a kid.” He answered. “I’m not a baby.”

“Then why are you here?”

The short answer was that, honestly, that was none of her business. And the even shorter answer, was:

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret. And secrets are sort of important.”

“A secret.” She repeated, as if tasting the word. “…You don’t look like you want to be here. Are you allowed to come out?”

The short answer was still that it was none of her business. But, if he wanted to be honest, for some reason, he didn’t want to give that answer. Because, to be fair, she would find out on her own sooner or later. Because, yes, people talked, and while his dads were kind of secretive about him, everyone in the headquarters knew him. Her being clueless was just a temporary event that would vanish into thin air in a blink.

And, for some reason, he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Maybe tell her something that wasn’t real. Maybe… tell her something that wasn’t necessarily true but that he wanted it to be. Maybe something that was more interesting than what he was, in reality; maybe something that would make the worm in his brain go away for two weeks.

"I can't get out." He finally decided. "Because this glass is infrangible."

Then, he knocked on it three times.

"See?"

Margaret tilted her hair to the side, looking like a cat.

"What does that word mean?"

And dumb as it sounded, Max felt a twinge in his stomach along with a violent wave of pride. Because, even if it was hard for him to admit it, he was hoping she would ask that.

He wanted her to ask that.

"It means you can't break it."

Margaret's eyes seemed bigger. But just as she was separating her lips to speak, somebody behind her cleared their throat.

That's when Max spotted Aunt Kasumi leaned against a wall with her arms crossed. When Margaret looked over her shoulder, she found her there too. But while Max waved at her, Margaret remained inexpressive.

"You're very far from the restroom, Maggie." Kasumi said, in a serious tone. Afterwards, she massaged her temples.

"Please, darling. Just… help me here, okay? We have to go back to the office."

And she didn't seem mad, but rather disappointed.

When it came to Aunt Kasumi, that was enough. Max knew that, and Margaret knew that too. That's why they both removed their hands from the glass, and Margaret started going away.

However, before she was too far, Max asked:

"Why are you here?"

And Margaret turned around, smiling.

"If you're not telling me, I'm not telling you." She sentenced. Then, she proceeded to imitate his voice as she said:

"It's a secret."

And for a while, obviously, it remained that way. A secret. But it wasn't long before they both knew everything they needed to know.

Margaret was integrated into the janitorial team, but, for a while, people talked about her and her powers, and Max couldn’t help but remember what Dad had told him in the bathtub, and the conversation between Evander and Kasumi.

Yet, more than scared, Max felt… something he didn't know what it was. In fact, he wasn't scared of her. More likely, a part of him felt that he knew what it was like to be her, because maybe they weren't that different after all.

People were scared of them both.

But he wasn't scared of her. No, not really.

He hoped she wasn’t scared of him either.

Maybe they could've been very good friends, even through the infrangible glass that kept him from getting pointed at, frowned upon or killed.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #Dawnie writes #renegades ship week #margaret white #magpie #max everthart-westwood #the bandit

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 3 years

Text

Emergency! Part 1

Part 1 – Plane Crash

Summary: Dean and Cas are partners at Fire Station 51’s paramedic squad and are responding to their first of many. A plane crashes into an apartment complex, multiple fire stations respond to put out the fire and rescue any victims trapped. But RN, Y/N Y/L/N, happens to live in the very complex involved in the plane crash. Though unharmed, she commits her time to aid and assist in the victims coming out of the building and the plane. The rescue turns sideways on Dean when a beam drops onto Dean, damaging his oxygen tank, he quickly turns into a victim as he quickly succumbs to smoke inhalation and becomes Y/N’s patient.

Warnings: Mild angst (relationship), slight language, fluff?

Square: Firefighter!AU ( @supernatural-jackles Tell me a story Bingo)

Word Count: 1,784

Mobile Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: DOA = Dead on Arrival. Y/L/N = Your last name. But I hope you guys enjoy!

She got up at her usual time of 5am to be at the hospital by 6:30am.

Not much of a coffee drinker, she just got her a mug filling up with soda, the soda being her caffeine for the day.

She got into her scrubs, grabbing her nametag, pens and her personal notepad.

Ready to hit the road before traffic begins to pick up on the freeway in Los Angeles, she grabs her wallet, phone and keys she locks up to leave for her day at work as a Registered Nurse at Rampart emergency hospital.

Just as she got to the street to her car, there was a loud noise growing louder. She looked in the direction of the noise to see a plane, crash landing into her own apartment complex.

Ducking beside her car at the impact of the plane she was also thankful for her timing.

Quickly she dials 9-1-1.

Dean got up at his usual time of 4 in the morning to begin his 24-hour shift at the station.

Dean is a paramedic and squad member at station 51.

He pulled his truck into the parking lot, still trying to wake up.

His partner was already there.

“Cas, do you ever sleep man?” Dean asked.

“Slept on the couch again.”

“Are you and Hannah okay?”

“No, we had a big fight again last night. I don’t know what I can do for her anymore.” Cas says, defeated.

“Just end things man, you need sleep, and you need some peace of mind. I got room at my house for a roommate if you need a place.”

“Thanks Dean, but I already had plans of ending things with Hannah, last night was just the nail in the coffin of yet another failed relationship.”

“She failed it man, you did nothing wrong.” Dean encouraged.

“Thanks man.”

Dean offered a kind smile and a pat on Cas’s shoulder.

“Ready for another long shift?” Cas asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, my dad here yet?”

“Yeah, he’s in the office why?”

“Wonder if he got the invite to Sam and Jess’s wedding.”

“Bought damn time that kid popped the question honestly.”

“I know, he and Jess dated for what seemed like forever.”

“You really think they’re still sore at each other, I mean John of all people should know he can’t control what his kids want to do.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, that’s why I was gonna ask if he got it.”

Cas nods.

“I saw you put in for a three-day weekend, what’s going on?”

“Just wanting to take a trip out to the campgrounds outside of town to the family cabin, Dad says the deck could use some work and I was gonna kill two birds with one stone. Camp out and help dad fix up the deck.”

“That sounds cool.”

The fire stations alarm sounded.

“Truck 27, squad 27, engine 47, squad 47, Engine 51, squad 51, structure fire at Purgatory Apartments 1366 south Millard Ave.”

“Lots of trucks and engines responding, must be big.” Cas states. Jumping into action.

“Must be.” Dean says running to the squad truck, jumping into the driver seat, Cas jumping into the passenger.

Dean turned the keys in the ignition, roaring the Ford Truck to life, and turning on the lights and siren. Heading out onto the road, with the firetruck, Engine 51 following behind.

“This is RN Y/N Y/L/N, I have multiple victims at 1366 Millard Ave. A plane crashed. 3 already DOA, I need help right away.” She says into the phone.

“We’re working on it; we already have multiple firestations responding to your location. Just keep aiding in the victims as best as you can Ms. Y/L/N.” dispatch for 9-1-1 says.

She continued chest compressions on a victim and did 2 rescue breaths. And checked his pulse, still no change.

She sat her phone off of her shoulder and on the ground, so she could focus on reviving the victim.

One more attempt at cpr, she checks his pulse, still no change. Placing his hands over his chest, she says a silent prayer.

“I’m sorry.” She tells the people watching over her as she worked.

“Where is your help?” a lady asked furiously.

“They’re on the way, LA Is a large ass city, and you know how traffic is in this town.” She says.

She was already frustrated with the losses she didn’t need an attitude from anyone.

The sound of wailing sirens in the distance brought relieve to the nurse as she worked tirelessly on the victims.

Engine and squad 27 and 47 being the first on the scene.

“There are people trapped in the buildings, and there were about 45 passengers on this flight. 4 are DOA so far.” Y/N stated to the captain of the two fire stations as they approached her.

“Alright, I’ll send my guys in.” Captain of station 27 stated.

“I’ll let the other stations as they come in to assist.” Captain of station 47 stated.

Another fire engine’s siren wailed as it approached.

The men jumping into action.

“Winchester!” the captain of station 47 shouts as he approached engine 51.

“What do we got?”

“Unknown number of victims trapped in the complex, 45 passengers or so from the plane. 4 of them were DOA. Oh, and she’s a nurse, thought I’d mention that she could help us out.”

“Right,” John Winchester, captain of station 51 agreed.

“Alright guys, we got to work fast, there are people trapped in these two buildings, we need to clear them out. Tran, get the engine ready so we can use the hose. Gabe, and Michael, work on the fire with the other stations, Benny, Raph, and Charlie, aide the paramedics, either from 27, 47 or Dean and Cas, we need to save as many as we can, alright?”

“Yes sir.”

“Get to it.”

Everyone went to where they were instructed to. Dean and Cas got their equipment from their truck and went into one of the buildings, full fire fighter gear.

“Dean!” John called out.

Dean stops, giving John his attention.

“Be safe in there son.”

“I will dad. Don’t worry.” He says, running in.

There were a good handful of people able to move and get to safety on their own, and another handful Dean and Cas had to carry out of the building.

One woman, sprained ankle from trying to escape hastily, as Cas carried her out she nearly flew out of the man’s arms.

“My daughter, she’s in her room!” she cries out.

“I’ll get her, Cas, get her out of here.”

Cas nods, doing as told.

Dean inspected the rooms, finding a seven-year-old girl, hiding beside her bed covered in a wet blanket.

“Hey, I’m Dean, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

The girls nods.

Dean kept a protective arm around her as they exited her room.

A beam creaked, and gave way above Dean, hitting his back.

He heard a loud pop, like a large pop can exploding.

He found it hard to breathe through his oxygen mask.

Taking off his mask and tank he saw rupture in his tank.

“Shit.” He hissed.

His lungs were quickly taken over by the smoke, he started coughing immediately.

He noticed the girl was already gone.

He tried to get up to hurry and save himself but he felt a sharp pain in the back of his leg.

He looked behind him, he saw the beam pinning him down by his leg.

Overcome by the coughing, his world began to turn black.

Y/N finished placing a splint on the womans ankle when a child ran up to her and the group of firemen.

“Jamie! Baby!” her mother cried out, holding her arms out to her daughter.

“Mommy!” she cried.

“Where’s Dean?” Cas asked.

“A beam fell down and knocked him down. He’s stuck.” She says.

Without another word exchanged Cas took off to the apartment they rescued the woman.

The fire was slowly getting under control and it was easier to see inside the apartments. Cas was able to spot Dean out in the apartment easily.

He laid on his stomach, still and unmoving. Cas can see the beam pinning against Dean’s thigh.

He saw the beam was not supporting much of anything. He ran out, seeing Michael carrying an axe.

“Mikey, I need that!” Cas shouted.

“What’s up?”

“Dean’s stuck.”

Michael ran towards Cas and he saw Dean, inspected the beam. Saw the same as Cas, the beam not being much of importance to the structure, he begins working on breaking the beam in half.

The wood was badly damaged by the fire, he was able to break it in three strong hits.

Once he was free, Cas picked Dean up and carried him out over his shoulder fireman carry style.

Once he reached the nurse, she prepared an area she could work on Dean.

“Is he breathing?”

“He didn’t have his mask on, the tank was damaged.” Cas answered.

“More than likely smoke inhalation, lay him here and I’ll start working on him.

He did as told, laying him flat on his back.

She checked his pulse, and breathing, matching up to the fireman’s statements. And began chest compressions.

After 35 chest compressions she gave 2 rescue breaths. And checked his breathing, he’s breathing but it was shallow.

She placed on an oxygen mask over his mouth.

After ten minutes or so of the mask being on him, he began having a coughing fit as the air returned back to his lungs.

“He’s gonna be okay but we need to get him to the hospital, need to check out that leg.” Y/N said.

The men and women of station 51 nodded, agreeing with the nurse.

Later that night as she made her rounds, she walked into Dean’s room.

“Good evening Mr. Winchester, how are you feeling today?”

“Sore.”

“That’s expected having a beam pin your leg down, and the smoke inhalation.”

“You saved my life, thank you, Miss….”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. And it’s no big deal, all part of the job.”

“Right, saving people.”

“The family business.”

“You’re family work here?”

“Yeah, my mom was head nurse at this very hospital, and my dad was a neurologist here. I was basically born and raised here.”

“Nice, my dad’s captain of station 51.”

“Awesome. But other than that, no pain at the moment, you don’t need anything?”

“No, just a number.”

She smirked, with a nod.

Writing on her notepad, her number. She ripped the paper out, handing it to him.

“Call me sometime, Winchester.”

He held the paper, unable to hide the wide grin.

“Definitely will.” He says as she walks out, continuing her shift.

Are you excited yet? I’m posting as I write this, probably a bad idea, but story of my life. Like what I got so far? Let me know, ask, reblog. Feedback is fuel. :3

Dean girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @mlovesstories, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @jeaniespiehs20, @akshi8278, @lyarr24

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/18/2021

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arigatouiris · 4 years

Text

remember... me? // nakahara chuuya x reader

Author’s Note: Being awol for so long could only mean I was drowning in Bungo Stray Dogs and am now a hoe for Chuuya and Dazai. No regrets. I’m on season three rn and I’m only going to go on and read the manga after this, so I’m just THIRSTY. Hope you like this!

Word count: 5k+

Pairing: Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

Summary: Ever since laying his eyes on you, Chuuya sensed a familiarity that almost suffocated him. The ever-growing sense of deja vu didn't disappear even as he had you locked in his arms, or even as he stayed away; there was no explanation to it, whatsoever. He wondered if love was an emotion that would constantly have him question every action, every thought, and every moment that occurred, but what did he know of love? But then again, what didn't he?

Warnings: angst to fluff, soft chuuya, mentions of sex, mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of blood, swearing (because Chuuya ofc), slight amnesia? ah, you’ll see, ig that’s it?

Even before you fell in love, you had always known that it was a bad idea. As unfortunate as you were, every time you felt a close connection with someone, it ended negatively. Whether it was the first boy you had ever kissed, who had broken your heart ruthlessly by kissing another boy a few days later, or the first person you thought you were in love with who had broken your heart by declining your proposal. Love had always left a remnant of displeasure and fear in your heart, and even without these experiences, you were certain that the concept of love was scary as it was. It wasn't as if Nakahara Chuuya was any different. Well, at least, he wouldn't be.

As soon as you opened your eyes, you noticed how the sun blossomed right outside your window. You knew from the telltale signs of dawn that it was your cue to leave; getting dressed would take less than 30 seconds, and heading out the door would take another 30. In less than two minutes, you'd be out of Nakahara Chuuya's hair, and live your life without the worry of any unnecessary attachment sticking to your psyche. However, for a moment, you lay there, admiring the lone tear that leaked out of his left eye, and you mindlessly wiped it away before it reached his cheek. You wanted to smile at his apparent softness, something you knew he'd try to hide with everything he had. You quietly got off the bed, careful not to throw the covers off his naked torso, and just as you were putting on your pants, your eyes darted to a very asleep Chuuya on the bed, obviously naked from the events of last night, before a thought crossed your mind—oh, how you'd kill just to linger around, but duty calls. A person so devastatingly afraid of love had no business to wish for fluff, it was just roll-call. A sigh exited your lips as you traversed on, mindful not to lay any loud step to awaken the sleeping beauty. To Chuuya, you were someone he had met just the night before, you weren't aware of his opinions on one night stands, but you were of the firm belief that they had to remain just one. Goodbye, Chuuya, you thought before sneaking out the door, almost as easily as you came in.

When Chuuya woke up, he smelt you. He felt a long-forgotten feeling at the back of his eyelids as if he had cried—but Chuuya stopped doing that long ago. He never cried again, he had seen and lived through too much even to consider letting his emotions loose. Yet, why had there been that feeling lingering behind that morning? His eyes searched for any sign of you but when he found none, his heart sank; he was familiar with one night stands, but he hadn't imagined that you adhered to such rules so stringently.

Ah, f*ck, he thought, as he sat up on the bed. He let out a shaky breath before feeling his eyes burn once more. His left hand reached forward and wiped off an incoming tear from his right eye before he frowned. What the f*ck? He thought before groaning. Something must've gone into my eye, he thought; desperate not to think of you. You had left behind your smell and as people say, memory and smell are intertwined. However, Chuuya didn't know that.

A short while after his shower that morning, Chuuya's phone rang indicating that he was needed elsewhere. The stupor that he had been transported into was over, and the feeling that he may have forgotten something had to be buried.

"Yeah?" Chuuya grumbled, ignoring his aching stomach; he knew he was forgetting something, something almost vital to his existence and identity, but his common sense reminded him that post-sex emotions can be overwhelming.

"Oh, rough morning, Chuuya-kun?" Mori's voice from the other end did little to ease his growing uneasiness.

"What is it, Mori-san?"

"I'm starting to worry about you. Chuuya-kun. You disappeared last night and just left. Regardless, your private affairs are your own, after all. I need you to look into something."

Took him long enough to come to the damn point, "What is it?"

"There's a large collection of ammunition that the mafia's stored by the bay. Rumor has it that someone's discovered that location and is intending on... borrowing our merchandise. I can't have that happen, you see. It's our produce, after all."

"Ah?! You can send someone else for something so small! Why can't you send the Black Lizards or something—"

"Oh, Chuuya-kun! I'm asking you because I know I won't have to ask again."

Chuuya hated taking orders from someone else, but he liked to believe he held some amount of agency in these areas. Letting out a long breath, Chuuya ended the call once accepting what needed to be done. It was simple enough, considering he didn't have anyone to kill or torture for information. As long as this meant he could work alone, Chuuya was glad. His life had reached a certain blissful limbo ever since Dazai's disappearance, not that he was complaining. Walking over to his hat, which was gracelessly laying on the floor, he felt the familiar smell reach his nostrils again—your smell, to be precise—and he almost froze as he reached to pick his hat. A sense of deja vu burned through his veins; strangely, these moments were occurring far too many times for him even to count. Some days, Chuuya could sense mornings repeat themselves, and nights disappear. Days would sometimes come to a standstill and sometimes, he'd lose them entirely. Time was breaking itself down rapidly, and sometimes, it grew numb.

Chuuya then did what Chuuya did best and ignored the entirety of it before letting his legs carry him to his next destination; he had always been a journey first, destination later type of guy, but Chuuya had mellowed down through the years. He wasn't the same free-spirited, arrogant 15-year old—he was now a man.

On reaching the bay Mori had mentioned, Chuuya's eyes narrowed when he spotted members of the Port Mafia having already been posted there. If people are here, then why'd Mori-san tell me to come here? Chuuya walked toward them before tapping a seemingly large man on his shoulder and waiting to hear from him.

"Ah, Chuuya-san! Thank goodness you're here!"

"What the f*ck's the hold up? If our guns are here, then just relocate—"

"We'd do that, but... there's a deranged person inside who's locked themselves in there! I think they've got an explosive and that could jeopardize everything! The guns, the dock, uh... Mori-san will—"

"Shut up, will ya?" If this was already annoying him, Chuuya could only wonder what the rest of the task would do. "Did you take a look at this deranged person?"

The man shook his head, "N-Not really. They've been here all morning, in fact."

"Oh? No one's seen this person get in?"

"I don't think so—"

"Tch, useless." Chuuya turned toward the entrance of the building and noticed how the shutters were closed.

"Also, one more thing, Chuuya-san," the man admonished, "There was a letter that was slipped out of the shutter. It was addressed to you."

This got his attention. Addressed to me? That's why Mori-san sent me here. Chuuya took the slip of paper before opening it, and on it was written with a neat cursive — 'I'm willing to speak to only Nakahara Chuuya, not anyone else. You do not know my ability, so if anyone approaches the building apart from him, I'll blow this place up.' A smirk landed on his face at the seemingly suicidal note that this person had written, and half of his mind wondered if it was Dazai who had played this ridiculous scheme. Letting out a breath, he waved his hand before walking toward the building and standing right in front of the shutters.

"Alright," He said loudly, "Open the damn shutters. It's me. Nakahara Chuuya!"

When the shutters did open, Chuuya stepped inside without a second thought; once he took close to six or seven steps inside, the shutters closed right behind him, keeping the light away. His eyes didn't waver, though. He had spotted the person in question's silhouette before the light left the room.

"This is mighty stupid," Chuuya said, laughing, "Blackmailing the Port Mafia? You're some idiot, aren't ya?"

"It isn't blackmailing, really," Came a familiar voice, and Chuuya froze. "It was a bad calculation, is all. I got a tip that there were illegal weapons here and I wanted to find out myself if that was true, but little did I know..." You stepped out of the shadow, with a sweet smile plastered over your face, "...that the Port Mafia was involved. By the time I could think of a justification, I trapped myself here and willingly gave myself to you."

It took him a couple of seconds to register what to say. He wasn't always thrown for a toss, Chuuya was sometimes quick-witted, but you seemed to have that annoying wit that reminded him of a certain suicidal moron. Your smile was infectious. But then again, so was the plague.

"You're not very smart, are you?" Chuuya countered with a straight face.

You only tilted your head in that annoyingly sweet way and said, "It wasn't a problem last night, was it?"

Chuuya's face brightened at the sudden recollection of your interactions from the night before. He turned his face away from you, not before regretting the action since that caused you to laugh at his sudden change in behavior. Chuuya wasn't shy, he didn't have a shy bone in his body—but, Chuuya could be put in awkward situations that made him feel bashful. Once your laughter ceased, he noticed how sullen your expression got suddenly. A dim look of hesitance plastered all over your face and there it was again—the deja vu—he recalled someone having written in a book he had once read that deja vu was simply a remembrance of the future. But then why had your facial expressions struck a chord in him the way that it had? Letting out a sigh, he pulled his phone out of his pocket before dialing the one person who could end this.

"Mori-san? Yeah, it's me. The issue's solved."

As soon as he placed his phone back inside his pocket, Chuuya chose to accept what he was feeling right then. Yes, it had been a one night stand with you, but something had been altered in the due course of time that he had spent with you. Ever since he laid eyes on you drinking alone in that bar, wine that he knew was cheap and low-class, ever since he had offered to buy you wine that you swore you'd love more than the cheap stuff you were drinking, Chuuya knew that interacting with you was a poison that he willingly swallowed, as if his life was dependent on it. Your quirky smirks, the way your eyes crinkled at the pressure of his gaze, the way you licked your lips after tasting the wine he had recommended, the way your eyes widened at the tenacity of the flavor, and the way your eyes met his, just a moment after, and a smile crawled its way to where a surprised look was—Chuuya was quite aware what this feeling was.

But, you had gotten out of bed hours before he could open his eyes. You had run away from the possibility of Chuuya getting to see those very reactions from you again. If you had denied him those experiences in the future, could Chuuya even ask them from you? It felt deeply insulting that you didn't choose to give them to him yourself, but for some reason, Chuuya didn't mind taking another step forward.

"What is it? You want me to repay you for saving my life?"

Chuuya scoffed before straightening his posture. "That's right. You owe me."

Your eyes twinkled at the teasing tone of his voice, "Oh? And what is it that I owe you, Nakahara Chuuya-san?"

"A date," He said, almost too quickly, knocking the air right out of you, "I want a date."

You were staring at Chuuya as if you were a blind person staring at the sun for the very first time. You weren't just surprised at his blatant honesty, but you were surprised that he had outright asked you out as if it were some demand. There was no hint of hesitation lodged in his voice, but that was Chuuya; he never hesitated before doing something he was sure would result in success. You had to give him more credit than that, honestly. You would have honestly laughed if your heart wasn't accelerating like a fawn running for its life, but at the same time, you were glad. More or less.

"I'm... surprised."

Chuuya scoffed before turning around to leave, "Yeah, I don't like it when I wake up to an empty bed. If we f*cked last night, then I'd like to know it was stellar. Or I'd rather it doesn't happen."

If that's the premise, so be it, you thought, a soft smile etched on your face. A smile Chuuya had seen many times before but simply had forgotten. When you walked out of there, no member of the Port Mafia followed you or even gave you a stink-eye, you were left to wander on your own. However, a hand gripped your wrist just as you were about to leave—your eyes widened to see Chuuya's intense gaze burning yours.

"Not a word to anyone about this."

It took you a second to realize he was talking about the ammunition and not him asking you out. When you blushed right then, you were glad he didn't spot it; or if he did, he didn't make too much of it. There was no need to say anything more, you knew when to meet him and what time as well. Just as the previous night. Chuuya never had to wait three days to know if someone was interested; Chuuya took what he liked because, for the most part, it definitely liked him back as well.

Unlike what most people believed about Nakahara Chuuya, he hated being angry. Even though he sported a constant frown across his face that he seemed to carry with pride, anger was quite rare for him to carry around with it. Anger made him feel vulnerable, dangerous—in a way that he didn't like; it deprived him of control, agency, dominance; it was a paralyzing emotion that rendered him helpless. He didn't need anger to get anything done—in fact, Chuuya was beyond that. However, that night, when he waited two hours for you to show up and you didn't, Chuuya felt a different sort of anger.

An ire born out of devastating humiliation was no ire at all. It was a rage nestled in a dark place, reminding him of the Corruption that he desperately wished to forsake. Chuuya not only felt humiliated for being stood up, he felt a deep, growing sorrow—a sorrow that didn't involve tears or screaming but silence, which was the worst indicator. Quietly, he left the bar where he had first met you and walked out only to notice that it was raining. One of the things he prided about himself was his ability to deduce things quickly—sure, he wasn't as witty as Dazai was, not that he'd ever admit that, but he was smart where he needed to be. Recalling details about you that most people would have forgotten seemed simple not because he was as talented as he thought he was, no, it was because you were impossible to forget. A drug that he just couldn't shake off.

His legs then carried him toward an area that seemed so familiar that he felt a wave of nausea itch at his throat. Chuuya clawed at his collarbones to stop the feeling from spreading but the nausea had reached his head and he felt as uncomfortable as when he had too much wine in a single night, on an empty stomach. Reaching a particular door that screamed at him for some godforsaken reason, Chuuya didn't bother knocking; the confidence bubbled inside his chest alongside the nausea. He spotted you on the couch, a bottle of wine in your hands—the wine he had recommended to you the night before—and your eyes widen at his sudden appearance.

"Chuuya!?"

"You f*cking stood me up—"

"How did you remember where I lived?"

Perhaps it was your choice of words. He was always good at guessing what people meant from the words they use, it had always been a certain gift he carried with himself. However, Chuuya didn't care right then. The ire rendered him blind. He rushed to you and knocked the glass off your hands, having it spill all over the carpeted floor before grabbing your collar and pulling you close. He was seething but for some reason, just the sight of you—surprised and quite possibly drunk from the wine—burned down his ire as if it were embers sparking off a tree trunk on a rainy night. Your silky robe slid off his hands with ease as he let you go, before darting his gaze away from you.

"Chuu—"

"I don't f*cking understand it either, alright?" He said, eyes stuck to the spilled wine on the floor. "I don't understand what this is, I don't understand why I can't let it go. I've had sex with women whose names I don't even bother to remember, but I can't forget your stupid f*cking face, or your stupid f*cking smile or the way you annoy the crap out of me. I can't forget how you'd rather drink cheap wine at the store and drink the wine that I f*cking recommended to you in secret, so I know there's something there, alright?!"

"Chuuya, I'm sorry—"

He looked at you with a deep frown, "What is it, then? Was the sex bad? Was it me—"

Your hands sprung to his face and it hit him again—the wave of deja vu—the feeling of your skin against his; it was intoxicating. He breathed in deeply, trying to recollect where he had smelt you before for it to have become so deeply rooted in his mind.

"How is it..." You began to mutter something under your breath but Chuuya's hand lifted your chin and forced you to meet his gaze, "Chuuya, I... I'm sorry. It's not that. It's not any of that. You're amazing. You're... I love you."

His eyes widened. Words that he normally would have run away from suddenly felt like home—he swore he had heard them before. He had heard them, from you, a long time ago and the smell of it resonated with the way you carried yourself. Apricots and honey, a smell so utterly natural yet devastatingly intoxicating, Chuuya was certain that whatever it was had to be love; because if it wasn't, then he didn't know what love was. Moving in, Chuuya's lips captured your own, and your hands quickly reached his hair before pulling him closer as if your life depended on it. A lovely trick designed by nature, Chuuya used it to silence you from uttering words right then. There was no need for words when action spoke so loudly. It didn't take long for his hands to reach your neck, pasting your body to his; and for this to lead further to a place of no return. Not that you minded, of course.

When Chuuya woke up, he smelt you. There was no long-forgotten feeling, there was no remnant that he desperately needed to remember—there was just you. You were breathing beside him, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, looking as peaceful as he had ever seen you; a sight he believed he had seen many times before. The intensity of which made him wonder if this was what people meant when they said soulmates existed; perhaps, he knew you in a past life, and had reunited with you in this one. Whatever it was, he felt content. His hand reached to brush a strand of stray hair off your cheek before noticing you inch closer toward him, blinding him with your scent again.

As established before, Chuuya was good at guessing what people meant by the choice of their words. He instantly remembered something odd that you had let loose the night before, something that made him wonder if there was a reason why he felt so intensely for you. Reaching forward and placing his hand at the back of your head, he pulled you to his neck, feeling your arms wrap around his naked chest. Chuuya's gaze fixed at the wall behind you before trying to decipher just what you had meant by 'How did you remember where I lived?'

A second later, you stirred before looking up at him and he cocked an eyebrow at your emotionless stare.

"God help me..." You said, "You're so pretty."

"Don't call me pretty." He argued, and you swore he could kill you with his morning voice and you'd be glad.

"Hey," He began, clearing his throat, "What did you mean by... what you said yesterday?"

"That I love you? Aw, Chuuya... Don't you know what that means?"

"No, you idiot. You asked me how I remembered where you lived. Why would you ask me that unless I..." His eyes widened. "Unless I somehow forgot..."

"Wrong choice of words, I guess. Forgive me, I was down three glasses of wine before you got here."

Chuuya laughed at your words right then before pulling you closer, feeling more content with your explanation than the gnawing suspicion that raged inside his brain. He wondered if love was an emotion that would constantly have him question every action, every thought, and every moment that occurred, but what did he know of love?

But then again, what didn't he?

Blissful days were cursed, or so he believed; Chuuya noticed how quickly they passed. He could, on some occasions, watch the days as they passed, exiting his body and seeing himself interact with the everydayness of things. The only thing that brought him life was to return home to you. Even with the ever-growing blissfulness, Chuuya didn't malinger. However, he couldn't shake off the feeling that every word that exited your mouth was a red herring—something that you were deviating from a fact that he had missed. He hated feeling like he was missing an important detail, but each time you smiled at him or stole a kiss, Chuuya was taken back to the very moment he fell for you.

Suddenly, as if his mind was taking him somewhere else, he recalled something. He didn't know if it was entirely a made-up scenario or something that happened in a past life because if it happened in this one, he'd have remembered. He spotted you, stumbling in front of a broken wine bottle, the owner of the store screaming in your ear—and you were trying to sound convincing. Chuuya watched himself walk over to you, and turn to the owner of the store before quickly understanding what had happened. You had dropped an expensive bottle of wine, and you had no means to pay for it; it caused him to chuckle a tad bit before throwing some money (or more) at the owner, causing you to turn to him with wide eyes. "It's alright," he had said to you, "I've got money."

Chuuya watched as he walked away from you, but missed how you had removed one of your shoes and thrown it at the back of his head. He froze before turning to you with a deadly expression, but instantly blinked when he noticed how heavily you were blushing before thinking, 'Holy shit, she's cute,' before having you walk over to him and scream—

"What do you think you're doing, pretty face?"

Chuuya stared at you as you chopped onions without shedding a single tear; he had no clue how you had learned to art to do so, but boy, was he glad you knew how to cook. You reached forward before using your wrist to wipe off a tear from his eye, scrunching a bit before realizing the onions must have done it. You giggled before turning back to them, chopping them quietly. That wasn't it, Chuuya thought, narrowing his eyes. That wasn't how he met you. He met you at the bar, where he spotted you drinking cheap wine and he walked over to you and recommended something else. He didn't meet you in a wine store—he didn't have a shoe thrown at the back of his head. Yet... His hand reached the back of his head and his fingers grazed the area where the shoe supposedly landed, It feels like it actually happened.

He shook his head before entwining his hands around your waist, before kissing the back of your neck. He wasn't usually so affectionate, but you didn't mind. Every time Chuuya touched you, it left scorch marks that were welcome; it was passion breathing fire, reflecting the color of his hair, the aura of his heart.

"What're you thinking?" You hummed, unaware of how intensely Chuuya was watching you.

"Nothin'."

Blissful days were cursed, Chuuya knew this for a fact. He could watch happy days pass by with him barely breathing, existing, feeling; but the bad ones lasted ages. He remembered walking into his own home one day, drenched in blood, covered with soot and mud, the urge to feel human contact was strong just then. He knew he could call you, he knew that he could rely on you especially since you had said the words 'I love you' to him over and over again, despite him having not said it in return. He wondered if that bothered you, he wondered if that made you want to leave him but you made no sign so far that you were displeased. He watched you like a hawk, after all, with that growing suspicion that drowned him on nights like these. He rang you in a moment, before feeling the phone vibrate next to his ear, his eyes ghosting on a dark patch in front of him. He needed your hands, your body, the smell of your hair; he needed the familiar apricot and honey to cover his nostrils whole. He needed you, just before asking you why you lied.

"Chuuya? It's 4 a.m., what's—"

"I need to see you."

You were quiet on the other end, wondering if he had figured it out. He must've, you thought, a bitter smile formed on your lips.

"I'll be there in—"

"No," He wasn't going to risk it, "I'm coming to you."

Your eyes glanced all over Chuuya's bloodied appearance before hearing the sound of your heart break—it was a soft sound, like a twig snapping under the weight of a stone. Your heart fell as he gave you his hat and removed his coat before you threw it into the wash. You led him to the bathroom, having him strip, and let him sit aside while you filled the tub. You knew he was watching you, you knew he was going to tell you the very same thing he had always told you.

"We need to stop this."

You didn't know why, but you laughed. Every single time that it had happened before, you had cried and asked him for an explanation, or even threw things at him—but this time, you laughed. This time, you desperately tried being away from him until he magically appeared at your home, shocking you to your very core at how your powers were slowly slipping off of him. You turned to spot Chuuya's eyes fixed at your form before a nasty frown formed on his face. You touched his cheek before whispering, "The bath's ready."

He sat in the water before letting out a groan, indicating that this was what he needed before he could reprimand you and leave you once again. However, just as you were about to leave, his hand gripped your wrist, another action that shocked you, and he stared at you.

"Wash my hair."

You nodded wordlessly before following through with it, wondering where this was going. All the other times, Chuuya would leave instantly after saying those words. All the other times, he'd ensure that he wouldn't see you for another month or so—before realizing that he had never met you. You weren't a cruel person, you were just desperately in love, having uncovered an ability that you thought could save you from torment. Yet, it presented more than it took away. One of the things you admired most about Chuuya was his hair, of how soft and luscious it was despite it being coated with blood on many days. You admired how well he took care of himself on the days that he could, and how he'd managed to put on that responsibility to you as well. You only began taking care of yourself because of him; and in a way, he had saved you.

"I..." Here it comes. "I didn't meet you for the first time at the bar, did I?"

You were quiet. But, silence at an occasion such as this was admittance.

"I've met you for the first time an exact three times. When you broke the wine bottle, and when you were scrambling around during a case, that's when I learned you were a journalist. And then... And then the bar,"

You didn't answer.

"I was chasing this guy, this..." He leaned his head over and sighed, "...this guy who ran off from the Port Mafia with some documents or some shit. He... He found you, and I... I thought I lost you," You couldn't tell if he was angry or just overwhelmed, "That's when I left you for the first time."

"Chuuya..."

"I left you one more time after. I can't remember everything..." His eyes met yours, steady and intense, "...and that's thanks to you, isn't it?"

"Chuuya, I—"

"You have an ability," He said, finally, "An ability to make people forget you."

You sat there, behind him, with your hands sunken in his locks. Your heart was rummaging against your chest and you bit your lip enough to draw blood; if he asked you why what could you say? Was there even a reason why you did what you did? Despite having him forget you for a total of three times, he had somehow magically returned, somehow asking for more and staying longer than he did before. It was almost a curse than anything else. The more you used your ability on someone, the less of an effect it would have each time. It was only a matter of time Chuuya figured things out. And now he had.

After the bath, he silently wore a change of clothes that you surprisingly had. He wanted to ask if this was from the first or second time he had met you, but he didn't. He turned to spot you standing a few feet away, before meeting his gaze.

"You did that for me, didn't you?" He was expressionless. To see Chuuya this way broke your heart. "So that it doesn't bother me."

"Also because I genuinely wanted you to stay away from me." You let out a laugh.

"I didn't f*cking stay away, did I?" He demanded, taking a step toward you, "No matter what stupid trick you used, I kept coming back!"

"You were the one who left first." You snapped, gritting your teeth.

Chuuya bit back his words for a moment before turning away. This action always melted your heart, when Chuuya turned away from you because you had stolen his words away.

"Things are different now, aren't they?"

"Yeah," They were different. He didn't leave. "Yeah, they are."

Silence followed a deep revelation such as this. His eyes didn't leave yours and you stared right back—it almost reminded him of the shoe-throwing incident. He chuckled before earning a frown from you.

"For being played around like that, I should be the one glaring at you." He scoffed.

"Chuuya, I love you."

It was at that second he remembered something. He believed you'd leave him because he hadn't told you he loves you or even bothered to say it back even when you had said it multiple times before already. However, at that second, he remembered that the first person to say those words between the two of you was Chuuya himself. I'm not going to leave, he thought before letting out a breath. He kissed the side of your head before wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Don't f*cking do that again." He scolded you.

"I could have stayed away from you each time, but you're like... a disease." You laugh.

He rolled his eyes before raising his voice, "Who're you callin' a disease?! If anything, you're a goddamn manipulator. F*cking stupid."

He rested his head on your shoulder before smelling the apricot and honey attached to your skin. It was just as intoxicating as the first time.

"I ain't leaving so..." His voice was muffled with how his mouth was pressed to your shoulder, "...I love you too."

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julemmaes · 4 years

Note

Possible continuation of the cass-defending-nesta au prompts?: “i got your back. Always.” Or perhaps, “they can shove it, i love you. All of you.” or maybe something involving soda slushies (that’s just cause I kinda want one rn)

Got your back (2)

Cassian and Nesta Archeron modern au

A/N: Please, read the A/N at the end of the post, this is really important for me. I didn’t put it here cause it’s very long, but still, I think everyone should read it.

So, the oh-so-awaited part two for the Nessian fic. This is mainly Cassian having an existential crisis (me every day basically) and some Nessian domestic fluff. I guess you’ll get a third part, cause I can’t leave you and them like this, I hope you’re thrilled by the idea just as much as I am. I’m sorry if I forgot to tag anyone. I hope yall enjoy!

part one

Word count: 2,590

The second Cassian got into the car the world fluttered.

He closed his eyes, inserting the key into the patch and then stopped.

A lump formed in his throat and when he tried to breathe, he realized he was struggling to do so.

What had he done? He opened his eyes and his vision blurred again.

His hands were shaking and his breathing was now erratic.

"Fuck!" he cried, as a tear slipped down his cheek.

He started the engine and set off as he tried to hold back the tears he knew were building up.

He took the highway after a few minutes and as soon as he was on a side road, without too much traffic, he pressed his foot on the accelerator trying to feel so much adrenaline that he went numb.

He was not going towards Nesta's house. No. To get to her apartment he would have had to take the third exit right after passing the walls of Velaris. But he knew that the second he saw her he would burst into tears if he couldn't let go of some of the anger in his mind.

Anger that was now mingling with guilt.

Shit, shit, shit.

He screamed, cursing once again, banging his fist against the steering wheel. The car skidded suddenly and Cassian hit the brake in a desperate attempt not to finish beyond the guard rail and in the middle of the fields. The screeching sound of the wheels wearing out on the asphalt remained in his head even after he had stopped. Both hands tightened around the steering wheel and his gaze fixed on the dark road in front of him, lit only by the headlights of his car, while his breathing became more and more uneven.

A sob broke the silence.

And then another, and yet another, until Cassian found himself desperately crying and hitting the steering wheel repeatedly.

His face buried in his hands and his body shaken by the sobbing, Cassian thought about what he had just done. What it meant to have told everyone about Nesta's problem.

He opened the door, getting out of the cockpit to get some fresh air, but as soon as he was out of the car, the crying got worse.

"You fucking idiot," he muttered to himself.

God, what have I done?

These last few days had been difficult for him. Stressful.

Nesta was in one of those periods they called "shitty periods". These were days, sometimes in rare cases weeks, when Nesta could not get out of bed. Moments in which every reason for living seemed pointless, in which even the slightest input from outside could destabilize her so much that she had several panic attacks in a single day.

Cassian had tried to stay close to her all the time, keeping the phone close to him in case she called him. He had stocked her fridge with food and went to her house for most of her lunches and dinners to cook her something and make sure she ate.

These weren’t completely bad days. There were times when Nesta smiled, or when she could see the good in the middle of all the shit, but there were still days when Cassian came home exhausted, looking for solutions to problems he couldn't solve, without being able to talk to anyone.

He had thought many times about what would happen if one day he took his brothers aside and explained everything to them. If he explained to them why Nesta was not well, by bringing the psychological explanation into the conversation, maybe they would start to treat her like a human being and not like a monster. But in that case he would have betrayed Nesta's trust.

If she had not yet had that conversation with her family, how could he do that with his own? Who was he to take that freedom away from his girlfriend? There were reasons why Nesta hadn't yet taken that step, reasons that Cassian knew perfectly well.

After all, he had experienced the same things a few years before.

That was people's main problem.

When they asked you what the reason for your actions was and you gave a logical explanation, maybe even saying that you were getting professional help, there were two possible answers: either they told you that you were doing it for attention or they told you things like "then don't be sad", "then stop worrying”, "then stop getting angry about everything". As if it were that simple. As if the traumas and situations you've lived through for years and years of your life and the consequences that come with those can be easily healed by not doing specific things.

And now Cassian had to show up at Nesta's house, pissed off with his family and feeling terribly guilty for telling her sisters what the real problem was.

He slammed his fist on the roof of the car repeatedly, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He rubbed his hand over his face, wiping away the tears that were now flowing undisturbed.

He couldn't even talk to her about why he had exploded.

If he explained to her that he had confessed everything because he had been exhausted because of the last week he'd spent taking care of her, Nesta would have pushed him away. Not because she would have been offended that Cassian was struggling between college, work and her, no, that wouldn't have been the case. More likely she would have thought she was weighing too much on him and would have stopped talking to him when she needed him most.

Cassian couldn't allow such a thing to happen. Nesta had only him.

He could bear it, for her.

"You fucking fuck. Don't bear it," he shook his head, starting to walk back and forth, "you don't have to bear anything. You are doing all this for her, you have to respect her needs and the path will not be easy, but the day will come when she will get better and happy and it will be easier." he often spoke out loud when he was thinking about the matter.

No, he couldn't have told her that this was slowly killing him. He had to stay strong and do it for her. He would apologize to his family and allow them to talk to Nesta - always keeping civil tones - if she wanted to.

Shit.

Maybe he had made things even worse.

Maybe now they would have thought that Nesta was morally blackmailing him and that he was only doing it out of pity. And maybe they would have started to offend her even more, saying horrible things about her.

"Jesus Christ," cried Cassian to heaven. I will talk to everyone, he thought. He breathed.

He would talk to Nesta first and tomorrow morning, when everyone would be sober, he would also talk to the others.

For now, he just had to stop crying and get to her apartment safe and sound.

He looked at the time on the phone and sent a quick message to his girlfriend, warning her that he would be there in twenty minutes. Without waiting for an answer, he got back behind the wheel and made turned to get back on the highway.

True to his words, twenty minutes later he found himself at the door of her apartment. He had the keys and could have entered easily by himself, but he decided to knock. After all, she hadn't read the message; if she heard someone come in at 11:54 p.m., she could have easily attacked him.

When Nesta opened the door she had one eye closed and the other only slightly open. She scratched her cheek yawning, "Cass, what are you doing here?" she asked in a hoarse voice. Cassian blinked a couple of times and Nesta must have noticed his gaze because she stiffened, "Are you alright? Did something happen?" she put her hands forward and Cassian threw himself into her arms, holding her to his chest.

He sobbed and Nesta took a few steps back, carrying him with her as she closed the door behind him. She rubbed her hand on his back, stroking his arms, trying to calm him down.

"I am so sorry," he murmured in her hair. Nesta held him tighter.

"What happened Cass? Is everyone okay?" he nodded and felt her relax in his arms.

Something in Cassian's chest broke. Obviously she had immediately thought of the others. She was always thinking of their families. He broke off the hug and looked her in the eyes. Eyes that were now full of worry.

God, he was so stupid. Nesta already had enough problems of her own, now she would have to fight with the rest of their friends because of him.

"I screwed up," he whispered to her, holding her hand. Nesta put her hand on one of his cheeks, rubbing a thumb under his eye to remove the tears and nodded.

"What do you say you come into the kitchen and we'll talk about it while you drink some water, hmm?" she asked, pulling him towards the hallway. Cassian narrowed his eyes, thinking what would be best to do now.

He didn't want to tell her that her family insulted her almost every day. He didn't want to be the person to remind her of such an evil thing. Nesta wasn't stupid, she knew that one of the main topics of their evenings was her, but that didn't mean that Cassian wanted to open the subject right now.

She handed him a glass full of water and when he drank it in a single long sip, Nesta looked at him concerned, filled it again and handed it to him. Cassian just took it, looking at the liquid.

"You're making me nervous," Nesta whispered, leaning one hip to the kitchen island and crossing her arms to her chest, "it's past midnight and you showed up here crying, Cassian. If you don't want to talk about it now, that's fine -" the man almost laughed, a few months ago she would have forced him to talk until he exploded and they would have argued until the next morning. "we can do it tomorrow, but you are obviously shocked by something and if I can do anything to make you feel better, I want to do it." she tilted her head to the side, offering him a weak smile.

Cassian sighed, placing the glass on the counter and rubbing his face, "I fucked up."

"I figured that," she jokingly said. Cassian glanced at her and she whispered an apology smiling.

She was immediately serious when he said, "I told your sisters you're ill."

Her arms fell to her sides, and her eyes widened slightly.

Cassian leaned forward, leaning with his elbows on the counter and taking his head in his hands. Before she could answer, he had already resumed. "I've been tired lately and stressed about studying," yes, this white lie could go unnoticed, "and by the time I got home they were all drunk and started talking shit about you out of nowhere and I couldn't help it." He took a deep breath without crossing her gaze.

"I said that we are together - or rather, Amren told everyone that we are dating and I didn't deny anything. And then Feyre started blaming all the faults of your bad relationship on you and I couldn't stop talking".

"Did you specify anything?"

He still couldn't look at her, "No, I just said they should behave better and... Nesta, forgive me, Mor and Rhys were there too and I had to say something to them too and-" he froze when he felt a hand of hers resting between his shoulders.

He looked up at his girlfriend and she was looking at him with a loose expression on her face. He wrinkled his forehead. Nesta chuckled silently and ran her thumb between his eyebrows.

"Calm down, Cass." she whispered to him, lowering herself to his height and placing her lips on his temple. Cassian closed his eyes, "I'm sorry," he said to her, taking her hand and carrying it to his chest. He pulled himself up, positioning himself so that she was standing in front of him.

She smiled at him again, "Listen to me, as long as you tell me you didn't say anything too specific is fine with me. If they don't realize that I'm sick, that I'm not well mentally, that's not our problem right now".

Ours. Cassian took a deep breath.

"I should have kept silent anyway, it wasn't up to me to say..."

"Did you tell them that I am going to therapy?"

Cassian shook his head to deny it, "No, of course not."

Nesta wrapped her arms around his neck, tiptoeing and putting her lips on his. Cassian kissed her in turn. "That's alright then," she murmured on his lips.

"I'm so sorry, Nes." He caressed her side and she leaned closer to him.

"I’ve got your back and you have mine, remember?" she asked him.

Cassian nodded only once. "You have my back, and I have yours. Always." he repeated like a mantra. She kissed him one more time, then placed her head on his shoulder and hugged him.

"I love you."

"I love you," he repeated.

They remained in that position, one close to the other, for a very long time. So much so that when Nesta spoke, Cassian jolted, making her laugh and detach from him.

"Sorry," she said with a tired smile on her lips, "When I saw you at the door so upset I thought you had come to break up with me."

It was Cassian's turn to laugh. "You know I would never do that, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

She said it in such a relaxed tone, so familiar, that Cassian couldn't help but look at her and hold her face in his hands, kissing her again.

"What are you going to do with the others?" he asked her as they both dragged themselves to her bedroom. Nesta grimaced, scratching the back of her neck.

"I don't have the slightest idea, I guess if-" her phone vibrated on the bedside table. Nesta raised an eyebrow, " What the..?" She took the phone in her hand and when she read what was written on it she opened her eyes wide, looking up at Cassian. "It's Feyre, she asked me if we can meet tomorrow. Us and... her, Rhysand. Everyone."

He nodded, starting to undress and opening one of the drawers where he kept some of his stuff. "And are you going to go?" when she didn't answer immediately, Cassian turned around and saw her holding the phone in her hands and looking at the screen, looking focused. "Nes?"

Silence.

"You know that if you don't want to talk to them, you don't have to? No one is forcing you to do..."

"No, I think they deserve it. I owe them some explanations..." she stammered, clutching the phone even tighter.

"And they owe you an apology." grunted Cassian.

She nodded with conviction, as if she hadn't heard what he had just said, and placed the phone on the bedside table. "I'll answer tomorrow though, they may suffer a little more if the things they said tonight were so bad as to make you explode".

They slipped under the sheets and when Nesta's back pressed against Cassian's chest, they fell asleep, one lulled by the other's breath.

A/N: What I wrote here is probably the most personal thing I will ever write in my entire life. The few people who know me and with whom I've talked with even just once in "dark" moments know that, for me, talking about how I feel, what I feel in certain situations, is really hard. Not so much to tell the thing itself, as to have to say how my mind reacts to a precise thing. In short, I don't know how to talk about emotions.

I have a friend, a friend who I really care about and who is part of my family. She is special in the best way, the problem is that I am the only one who really knows her. She is my Nesta. Or at least, as far as this specific ff is concerned, I am this Cassian and she is this Nesta.

I've never known anyone who was really committed to know her. I have never known anyone who would try to get over that first wall, so high that sometimes you would think it has no end. She is good. She has a heart of gold. And there are those rare cases, like Azriel in my ff, who believe me when I say that she is not like that. Who believe me when I say that it is not her fault if she is forced to behave in a certain way. That she’s working on her problems, but it takes time and they need to be patient.

Most of the world though, is obviously filled with Feyres and Rhysands and Morrigans. And it's hard to reason with these people when Nesta presents herself as... well, as Nesta. But that doesn't give them the right to call that person a whore, bitch, heartless. It does not give them the right to treat a person as if they were less just because they don’t understand their traumas.

And the weight that I carry on my shoulders every day for her, to protect her from people who would treat her less for her issues, unfortunately crushes me as much as it crushes her.

I have no Cassian.

I cannot rely on anyone.

Her problems are so big that my brain, however open to this kind of thing it is, is not able to find solutions. And I cannot let off steam because her problems are secret. And she has asked me, me rather than 7 billion other people, to keep these secrets. I can’t just simply look for answers in others’ minds cause that’s not how it works.

And the fear that I feel every day. The terror of not being enough to be able to help her, is excruciating.

But I would never want her to know I think these things, cause I know for a fact that it would hit her to the core and she’d think she’s just trouble and that I don’t wanna be there for her. That’s how it would turn out for us and I know it, and I can’t change that cause there’s a balance that need to be maintained.

So, for all those who are out there, who carry the weight of others on their shoulders without being able to share it with anyone else for fear of hurting their Nesta, you are not alone.

acotar taglist (if you want to be added/removed send me an ask or dm me)

@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @silvermindwarrior

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peachbearies · 3 years

Note

omg ion know if ur taking. Requests rn but I was wondering just a cute lil imagine bout zion in which the reader and him are dating and it's they're one yr aniversary or sum idk lol but just zion being a cutie and telling how much he loves her and shiii (because we all know that his ass acts all big and bad but he is a 6'4 teddy bear irl) yaa ik that was supper cringey but shehej yee okay byee (ur an amazing writer btw I've read all ur work and may I saY I stan 💖)

Promise: Z.kuwonu

Requested

›› Synopsis: it’s your first anniversary with Zion, around this trademark period it makes you apprehensive but Zion reminds you how much

›› Genre: Fluff

›› Paring: Female Reader x Zion Kuwonu

›› Warnings: Slightly hinted nsfw, lots of cursing (I mean it Zion so…), a little glimpse of toxic behavior.

›› A/N: what?! This is not cringe at all baby! I admire cheesy romantic headcanons/ imagines like this. My likes and drafts are filled with fluffs or angst to fluff🤧. I’m sorry this is a tad bit delinquent And thank you for reading my work that means a lot I’ve been exploring a lot of vocabulary words to scrutinize my writing, this may be a long one I apologize I got too into it.

The marvels of what a year could do. From going through a hurricane of songster roaring at each other, the strikes of austere comments leading up to the thunderstorm of a anguish. Your ex-fiancé cheated on, with considerable women before you found out. The ring on your finger was nothing but a reflector and leverage for him, he wanted to appear a saint to the kingdom, but a devil in the moonlight. Apologizing and buttering you up like a slice of bread, didn’t make you dawdle.

Your lucidity and rectitude were more caliber than staying, so you moved out of your shared apartment a week later, during the rotation of moving haphazardly you’ve incoherent yourself from the boys' realm, nor have your inner circle heard of you. You dissipated from the earth. And if you had to be adequate, you relished it that way, what was anyone overlooking anyways? but you were silently asking for space, you would give your leg for it.

Zion stirring in disgruntle, pushing profanities in between his gritted teeth. Don’t get mistaken he wasn’t mad you were ignoring him, just by the way your handling things on your own, he knew it had to be really fucked up if you couldn’t come to him. The veins crawling up his proffered hands outstretched for the keys. The boys jumping up in fear he may do something reckless, Brandon putting his hand in front of the boys to halt them. “Listen—even if we stop him, say anything to him or follow him, he will remotely do exactly what you think he’s going to do, you know how much he cares about (y/n), all we can do is have faith in him” Brandon confirms, but deep inside that rickety heart of his fear was kicking his ass too. They all discern Zion, once the peak of anger overflows his eyes only opines vermilion.

Zion parked in the lot, not noticing your car ghosting its rightful place. His mind was set on figuring what was wrong with you. Climbing the flight of stairs, he knocks on your door, his foot tapping the pallid base. When the door swung open it was ex-fiance, their eyes met in pique just burning to throw punches and a few sparks of curse words. “What do you want?” Your ex tempts him.

For your sake, Zion never snapped in front of him the way he should’ve. “Not you that’s for sure” commenting on his current attire, which was shirtless and some sweatpants. “Where’s (y/n)?” He queries, a scruffy ‘tsk’ pass through his lips. “Not here, that bitch moved out after she broke up with me”

Zion looked at his watch the time read 9:35 pm. “Cool, all I need is nine minutes of your time” Zion tranquility explains to him. Swinging and docking him in the throat; the girl that was staying with him bolting into the living room finding the source of the thump. She screams for Zion to get off him, after give or take six punches, Zion walks away not giving him or her the slightest sight. “If I catch you or her around y/n, better make sure you have good health care insurance and dental”

The next day he waited outside your classroom leaning his foot up against the wall; few girls noticed him but that wasn’t on his mind. When your silhouette appeared, he excused himself in a rush to catch you. “Pretty rich seeing a smile from a ghost” your heart dropped; the voice you were scared to dump your problems on.

What lie could you conjure? “Hey Zion” you breathe, turning in his direction. “That’s my fault I’m sorry, dealing with classes and moving I lost track of time” which was half correct, but it wasn’t the biggest factor. Zion tilted his head, signature hand in hoodie pocket. Closing your eyes with a heavy sigh, you knew he didn’t believe you nor did he want to push you. “Zion—“ he groped your wrist pulling you to the parking lot, he leaned on his car's hood without saying a drop of words, he wants for you to stream all your worries.

“Well, that’s half the reason. Okay, I didn't mean to go completely ghost, life just wasn't easy for me lately, I didn't want to add more dead weight to your shoulder. Sorry” zion scoffs pushing himself away from the car with no hands. But they followed the path to your jawline. ”burden on my shoulder or not, they're made for you to cry on. Stop going through things on your own alright?, as long as I'm here you don't have to sink”

Ever since you and zion grew close, a year later and he still gazes at you like a diamond. Even after a year, the astonishment gets the better of you. The insecurities start raging in, fighting in a war of love and hate. Your phone was laid upon the cherry wooden table, the vibrations frightening you, the goosebumps crawling up your arms. The name it read was “Love🤍”

“Hello?” You answer still shaken up; Zion lets out a soft scoff that vibrates through your body “you’re still in bed mamas? you should be awake beautiful” rubbing your eyes slightly, the clock flashed the numbers ‘ 2:30 pm’ your groan only makes him smile bigger.

“Goddamn I love you, look how ravishing you are in the morning” Zion's eyes shimmering in adoration. Those eyes always reflected his emotions, deep down you knew Zion loved you wholeheartedly, but the fear of having something good taken from you. That is what kept you hesitant. “No, I don’t stop lying” you stroke his ego.

“Me? Lie? Babygirl, I can’t and won’t lie to you stop playing” Zion said in a low octave, your stomach stirred in feelings “do me a favor baby” “Which is?” You reply, Zion looks over on his nightstand smiling. “Why are you smiling? Are you being mischievous again?”

“Who me? Nah” Zion shrugs off. The ringing of the doorbell distracted you from his spreading grin “answer that” sighing you walk towards the door, propping your phone on the counter, Zion moans out loud. “Maybe I should’ve slept over last night! Who told you to look that good mamas?” Ignoring his flirty antics you open the door, glimpsing at fresh bouquets of your favorite flower and a self-care basket. “Baby!!!” You screech, Zion simpers at the brightest smile on your face. The sun doesn’t shine as bright as you did at the moment.

“Why?, why are you so loving to me” you start to happy cry “Nah baby none of that, I love you too damn much for you to self-deprecate” Zion shuts your negativity down. Flipping the card over you read the message. ‘You thought I’d forget the day you changed my life? I’ve always loved you and I’ll continue to love you, but it’s not your love that I adore the most, it’s those gorgeous eyes that look back at me. Like I’m some type of angel when we all know that’s you, it’s the way you’re compassionate about others, I love your free spirit baby you’re a dove to me, even though I get under your nerves, I wouldn’t want anyone else to deal with me or my problems happy one year’

You look up at Zion, his eyes were already glossing by admiring your figure. Oh, how you wish jumping through a screen wasn’t just a cartoon thing. “Fuck” you whisper covering your face “angel, you are beautiful” Zion reminds you “stop!!! I’m in my feelings!!” You Jokingly spat at him. “What you wanna do for our anniversary it’s up to you” Zion smiles.

“Can we go to a petting zoo then get tacos?” Your eyes sparkling as your lips turn into a pout, Zion looking up towards the ceiling as his Adam’s apple points at the camera. “Yes, how could I say no” twenty minutes later Zion was at your house, complimenting you the whole car ride. Protectively and passionately rubbing circles on your knees being careful not to raise his hand any further.

“Look! Rabbits” Zion follows your finger pulling you in that direction, you sit on the bench holding the rabbit in your lap feeding it the food. Zion takes pictures of you getting the best angles, falling in love with your beauty, even more, the way the golden light bounced off your skin. It made him think twice if you were real or just a lucid dream. Feeding the monkeys were the best part, they hugged you and Zion; even gave you two kisses. The giraffes were the most exciting to you, joking to your boyfriend “wow look something taller than you”. Walking into a blue-lit aquarium a class of fish surrounded the both of you. Your finger softly touching the fish that was pressed against the glass, it followed your every move. Never realizing Zion detached his hand from yours, it hasn’t hit you until a ring was slid on your finger.

“Not an engagement ring, but soon don’t worry this is a promise ring, and I promise that you’ll feel nothing but comfort and love with me” his fingers gripped into your waist “with a side of pleasure too” you smack his shoulder while smiling ear for ear. “You promise?” “Of course I do, I wholeheartedly promise, I will never hurt or disrespect you baby, you mean too much to me”

Once you were back to the apartment your body couldn’t even make it to the bed, but Zion helped you to the bathroom. To wash off the dirt and sweat, even helped you with your skin routine. His fingers padding over every inch of your back, your soft snores in the crook of his neck. “I’m so glad to be the girlfriend of your dreams” you whisper “oh lord she’s finally figured it out!!” Zion pushes your buttons “should I send you back home?” You test him, “you wouldn’t dare, you need me tonight” Zion teases his swollen lips attacking your neck upwards your jawline, a low gruffly growl trickles down your spine.

“So is this the side of pleasure?” You press your teeth into your lower lip “if that’s what you want”

“Well, you did make a promise” wasting no time Zion straddles you, your legs wrapped around his waist, giggling at how he fumbled to remove his shirt.

“You damn right I made a promise, and I’ll show you how serious this promise is” Zion kisses up your stomach “I love you”

Your hands cupping his jaw the breathing becoming erratic “I love you too”

#prettymuch #zion kuwonu #prettymuch zion

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cloveroctobers · 4 years

Text

IBRAHIM JARVIS —

IG info/bio: @/OFFICIALRAHIMJARVIS | 130k followers | pro🏌🏿, & yes i was on that dating show...don’t obsess over other people, obsess over water, stay hydrated friends!

22 (23) years old

From Birmingham, England

Pisces sun? + Virgo moon + Cancer rising

Parents are both Afro-Antiguan and Barbudans + migrated to The UK once they were pregnant with their first child

They’ve been married for over 20 years

He gets his height from both of his parents

His mother keeps her hair buzzed short, cooks the best Antiguan food + loves creole seasoning, she’s 5’11, & works as a bank teller

His father is 6’5, works as a substance a*use counselor & does not believe in tough love as a way of showing you care about your children. He learned that the hard way growing up

Ibrahim is a pro golfer & dislikes tiger woods, “he’s a proper arsehole, typical American yeah?”

Got into the craft thanks to his maternal grandfather who was also into golf along with other sports & taught him all he needed to know. At first Ibrahim didn’t like it, found it rather boring & would rather stick to video gaming but his grandfather wanted to break his grandchildren out of staying in the house all the time

It kept him fit and also relieved any anxiety Ibrahim had in life and he had a good amount

He’s got an incredible swing, thanks to his long arms

He’s 6’3

Has three older brothers: Jesse (27) , Keithroy (25), and Reuben (24)

He loves working out and spotting other people, feels likes it’s a team effort & he’s a team player

Drinks gallons of water on a daily and nothing else, it’s even better if he puts fruit in it

Always eating fruit, for breakfast/with or after his dinner. Rather eat fruits than vegetables...yes he’s an adult but he can’t stand broccoli or radishes

Canon: hates seeing other people test their fruit to see if it’s ripe or not. But it’s fine when he does it himself, he just thinks about all the germs that are on other peoples hands when they’re doing so; it physically makes him sick & irritated if he ends up touching the fruit that’s mushy/lumpy

He’s a big fan of comics. Always has been since he’s a kid and has a huge collection of them, his oldest ones are packed away in a couple of crates (in his loft room that he uses as a extra storage room) since he no longer has space in his room. Yes he has no shame (and shouldn’t) of having them on display even tho his oldest brothers clown him for it

Massive fan of black panther & was hyped when it first came to theaters. Saw it three times in one day

Was heartbroken when Chadwick Boseman p*ssed

He’s awkward at expressing himself & sometimes it makes him feel misunderstood & it’s frustrating

Hates people that come up with these ideas of him instead of allowing him to collect his thoughts and speak them the right way

Yet he can be the type of person that wants to ignore issues and hope they go away

He wishes people had enough patience like he did with others in the world

He seeks advice from his dad, since he’s a counselor & everything yet it’s slightly different?

Can be a sweetie & very romantic in relationships

Will do the most (he won’t see it that way) & drop $ on you if he wants to...buying things, trying & failing to DIY, doing wealthy ppl shit, expensive trips— canon: taking his girl to Spain? Was it? Or Italy? I don’t remember... the whole 9

Had 1 gf before the villa. He broke up with her for being too flashy with his things & found that she wouldn’t have liked him if he didn’t have a bit of money

His parents live with him. “They’re basically my roommates until or if they find a house they like.” He didn’t go overboard once he got his first paycheck, he didn’t need a mansion but he did go big enough, industrial style but homey with some minor modern touches for his dream home—he didn’t want it to feel cold or penthouse-like

Isn’t too flashy on the socials but will post something every now & then if he feels the need to show it

Doesn’t post much of his face, mostly what he’s doing in the moment...lots of golfing pics!

Dresses like a dad but it works for him. Loves a good snug polo & plaid trousers/regular that are cut above the ankle, “those are highwaters innit?!” “No mum, it’s the style.” Rolled up jeans, tall white socks & some patterned, baggy sweaters, fancy hats, picks oxfords over sneakers, etc...

Definitely takes the time to iron/steam/press his underwear & socks

Enjoys getting his hair braided, isn’t tender-headed at all (must be nice)

Only grows his hair out during the fall/winter seasons or cuts/gets a shape up

When he posts about his tournaments or time at the golf course, he can always count on Bobby to comment the usual... @/returnofdamckenzie: do you ever have moments where you Reenact troy bolton on the lovely green grass? @/officialrahimjarvis: Idk whether to block u or have a laugh mate, yes i had to look him up!

Dated Jo for about 5 months after the villa until she broke up with him, finding that their lifestyles were too hectic for them to continue, at least that was her public statement to the fans but they really grew apart & the “love” was no longer there

Ibrahim seemed to be more upset about it than Jo in the beginning resulting in snappy replies for awhile, which again stems from him not knowing how to express himself

She checked up on him A LOT, almost as if they never broke up but Ibrahim felt like he needed his space now. They talked it out the best they could over dinner and got closure but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting. He just didn’t think it was needed to be calling each other everyday to see how they were both holding up. If they were done, then that’s what they should be

Jo didn’t see it that way. She still cared for Ibrahim, that didn’t mean that they had to stop talking in her view. She wanted to know how he was coping, and was known for “sticking her foot in her mouth” so that was also a flaw in their relationship

She would say certain things that touched on how she was feeling but didn’t express them at the right times & then there was Ibrahim who didn’t know HOW to say the things he felt which left jo to assume things

Ibrahim was back to the single life and he hated it. He wanted someone he could come back home to, someone that wanted to be with him for the long run. A part of him feels like Jo wasn’t planning to be with him for the long run in the first place and in a way that was okay? Sometimes you don’t know where you’re going in relationships but there should be some sort of goal? Maybe? At least that’s what he thought. Yeah they had fun but he wanted more someday

He was still young he didn’t need to be hung up about it right? Sike. He didn’t know how to take things lightly. That wasn’t how he was built. And to get comments about his ex relationship and have fans dragging him about his choices in the villa A YEAR later!!! Was disheartening

Shannon seemed to be doing well. He thought they would still be friends, at least that’s what she showed before she left the villa. Before he got her dumped. They talked a couple of times since then, jo personally wasn’t a fan of that—Shannon didn’t care but it was clear there was some tension still there

Until he contacted her just to realize she probably had his number blocked but her IG was public and she had a new man & was traveling about

His dad and Reuben were the only ones rooting for them

He had no choice but to be happy for her. Who was he to come in between that? Not that he wanted to but it’s a natural reaction to wonder after a fresh breakup, “what if?”

Talks to Priya every so often now. He seems to find comfort in her, it’s the same for her on her end

His mother has a feeling Priya is the one her son will end up with. Even if she is older...Keithroy also liked her the best

While Jesse seemed to be the only one who supported his relationship with jo

I honestly thought he would have liked Hannah in the beginning but idk if it was him or Gary that said she was too unrealistic when it came to love? I think they both said something along those lines which is odd since it seems Ibrahim has no problem treating his girl like a princess

Probably only has one special dish that he can cook the best & it’s gumbo. otherwise hes out of the kitchen or having his personal chef cook for the family

Goes live on twitch—when he has time, playing many games with the boys from the villa, which pleases the fans

Talks to them all as much as he can

Noah seems to be the first to always text back since Bobby is the one who’ll start off responding in minutes then forget to text back cause he’s off doing handstands or booping people on the nose or some shit, Gary always ends up busy doing something with his nan or for Lottie—but Noah’s always around

They seem to be the closest outside the villa, they mesh well & hang out the most when they can

he likes having his sound on & LOUD when he texts! There’s something so satisfying about hearing the clicking of texting to him

Watches a lot of sports on the Telly, it doesn’t have to be just golf. Usually watching that sport sends him right to sleep while the others keep him active/vocal...yes he’s a tv yeller

Holds sports parties at his home & invites all of his family & mates, he HATES having to clean up afterwards. If it wasn’t for his mum he would save the cleaning until the next day yet he doesn’t mind cleaning his car twice a week

Continues to make his violet man drink & wouldn’t be opposed to someone giving him a endorsement deal for it

Is the “I love everybody!” Drunk

Enjoys yard work over cleaning the house

Has his own customized golf cart that he keeps in his garage

He likes driving that more than his Buick suv tbh

Wants kids some day, not too many, not too little just right— he’ll probably have two but for rn his Doberman pinscher is his bby

Either ends up with Priya with slight insecurities that she’s too good for him or he falls in love with a tennis player, either way I’m fine with both

Crushes/his type? : Jojo Levesque, SERENA WILLIAMS, China McClain, Brie Larson, Victoria Pedretti, Nathalie Emmanuel, & Keke Palmer

Listens to: Aminé, Big Sean, Frank Ocean, Brent Faiyaz, Pink $weats, B Young, Ali Gatie, Russ, Raveena, Jessie Reyez, Rayana Jay, Cosima, TianaMajor9 etc...

Anthem = Lucky Daye, “Buying Time”

#litg #litg2 #litg s2 #litg ibrahim #litg jo #litg shannon #litg priya #litg au #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #litg Bobby #litg noah #litg rahim

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remus-la-swearwolf · 4 years

Text

I have no idea what I wrote, but I’m feeling somewhat angsty rn, so enjoy this self-indulgent (wait, how is this self-indulgent?) oh yeah, because my brother’s busy on his playstation using ‘gay’ as an insult fic or read it on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22763209

Sirius growls and fumbles with his keys in the lock, trying to force them into the jammed mechanism. This shitty flat isn't his home, and the neighbours who surround him aren't his family.

Sirius wrenches the key to the side. The door bursts open, finally, but the key is crooked when he pulls it out. When he tries, it won't bend back. He stares at the defiant piece of metal in his palm, and tosses it carelessly on the wobbling table under the chipped mirror. He'll have to get the key fixed.

It's dark outside, and the flat is cold and empty. He's exhausted, after the day he's had, and he'd like nothing more than to collapse into bed and forget himself in sleep, but his bed is cold and empty, and the springs dig into his skin through the worn padding. Undoubtedly, the couple upstairs are going to have loud sex the second that Sirius crawls under the thin covers, so he decides to camp on the grimy sofa without changing out of his clothes, like he's been doing since before he even moved out.

He closes his aching eyes with a weary sigh, and thinks that if he has to spend one more hour in that courtroom, listening to all his flaws and faults being bared before the eyes of some unsympathetic judge who'd heard it all before a thousand times, he'd go mad.

He knows he's the one who's messed up, and he's the one whose fault it is that they were in this mess in the first place, but that doesn't make hearing it any easier for him. He's always had a selfish streak when it came to drowning in his feelings and self-pity.

The flashing light of a street lamp outside burns through his eyelids, and he groans and turns his face away, wishing he could hide from all of his problems so easily. Remus isn't the only one he's let down.

"Moony, why's Padfoot gone?"

Remus looks at the child in front of him, and tries to crush down the overwhelming guilt and pain that wells up within him. He's already lost his parents once, and Remus can't bear to put him through it all again. He swallows back the swelling lump in his throat, and blinks rapidly until his eyes stop stinging. For Harry's sake.

Harry continues to stare up at him with big green eyes, and once again, Remus is forcefully reminded of Lily. He wonders how things might have been if she and James were still here. Perhaps if Peter hadn't lied that night, about Regulus and Remus, Sirius wouldn't have stormed off on his motorcycle, and James and Lily wouldn't have crashed searching for him, knowing how impetuous and rash Sirius could be. Sirius' downfall was always going to be how self-destructive he was.

Remus clears his throat, and wets his dry lips. He doesn't know what to tell the boy. "Uncle Padfoot -- Sirius -- he's-- he's going through a lot. He can't be here right now, but he still loves you very much," he says, but it comes out as a hoarse whisper.

"Will he ever be back?" Harry asks, eyes full of hurt. It must be like like losing his parents, all over again, and Remus' heart aches.

He can't tell this boy that it's over between him and Sirius, and that Harry won't ever have his Uncle Moony and Padfoot together again. He can't tell Harry that his other Godfather is a reckless, imploding disaster, that this is what's finally set the dynamite inside of him off, and that it isn't good for Harry or Remus to have him around. He can't tell Harry that it hurts Sirius every time he looks at him, and that the grief and guilt stab him in the heart like a knife every time he looks up and meets Lily's eyes in James' face, living on in their son. It hurts Sirius to be around Harry, and it isn't Harry's fault, but Sirius can't stand it, and both Harry and Remus have suffered for it.

"I dunno, Harry," Remus answers for the fourteenth time in seven days. "I dunno."

The form on the table in front of him is mocking him. Sirius is sure of it. He stares at the swimming letters and numbers, and growls, shoving a hand up in his hair. He reaches for the penpot he's kept (a habit picked up from Remus) and knocks it over, so that all the leaky and dried-up biros are scattered across the table. He reaches for the nearest one, and carves his signature onto the paper, not caring anymore about what the document signifies.

Or at least that's what he tells himself.

He crumples the paper up and shoves it into the pocket of his leather jacket, and grabs his keys, not bothering to lock the flat up after he leaves. The key probably wouldn't work anyway.

The drive is long, seeing as he's moved across town, but he needs this. The purr of the motorcycle beneath him, and the wind whipping at the long, uncut strands of his hair make him feel alive in a way that he hasn't felt for a while. Despite how fast he's moving, even in the muddle and jam of central London, the weight of the form in his jacket feels like it's dragging him down.

Sirius forces all thoughts of what had been and what could have been as he approaches the little house on the hill, with the perfect lawn and picket-fence he's secretly yearned for all his life. This is the moment all the dreams he had growing up die for sure; the first moment that he's truly been on his own since he was eleven, and James had burst in with his bright eyes and raucous laughter, Remus following, and together they'd chased the dark out of Sirius.

His motorcycle is parked down the road, no longer welcome on the garden path or by the garage where Sirius used to waste long afternoons, tinkering with his bike and showing a wide-eyed Harry the different bike parts he'd brought home to mend. He steels himself for Remus' accusatory stare, or even worse, indifference in his eyes as he takes in the miserable state Sirius is in now. And worst of all, he doesn't know how he'll handle Harry's questions and his eyes, which only serve to remind Sirius of just how many of his loved ones he's let down.

Each step down the garden path lasts an eternity, and the paper in his pocket is a rock. He finally musters up the courage to knock weakly upon the door, hesitating before forcing himself to get on with it and do it.

It takes a minute, but soon the door swings open, and a familiar smell Sirius has missed for so long washes over him, and Remus is standing there, flour on his cheek, and his eyes and hair as honey-like as the first time Sirius had been fortunate enough to have laid eyes on him. Sirius tries to speak, but his mouth moves uselessly and the words swell in his throat and stick like bile, so he swallows them down.

Remus' expression is carefully neutral, and his eyes are guarded, but Sirius knows him well enough to recognise the pain behind them. He tears his own eyes away, unable to acknowledge it for one second longer. Sirius fumbles around in his jacket and grasps at the sheet of paper tucked away in there, holding it out clumsily to Remus, refusing to look at him all the while.

Remus stares down at the piece of paper emotionlessly, and moves his gaze to Sirius' face. "Come in," he says flatly, moving aside to allow Sirius in.

Sirius follows him reluctantly down the hall to the kitchen without looking around, afraid he'll see an ancient relic or a photograph Remus had forgotten to take down, and that the tears he's been biting back will escape.

He takes a seat at the table, as does Remus, and busies himself with tracing the swirling patterns on the wood. Neither of them say a word, but he can feel Remus' eyes on his face. Disappointed, maybe. Or perhaps he's ashamed of what a coward Sirius is, just like Sirius is himself.

"The document?" Remus asks, but he isn't asking really.

Sirius slides it across the table, and Remus straightens it out, and reaches for his pen-holder, his mouth tightening disapprovingly at the messy scrawl Sirius has provided instead of a signature. "I can barely read this."

Sirius shrugs. "Yeah, well."

Remus raises his eyebrows, but doesn't respond, shaking the ink pen out. "It'll be over, once we sign this paper," he says. "Forever."

"I know. That's why I've already signed it," Sirius responds bitingly. His nails bite into the wood of the table, trying to get through to the soft skin of his palms. His eyes burn, and he tries not to think of how handsome Remus looked that day, with his golden hair, and his golden eyes, and his golden heart, surrounded by friends and family, and his eyes full of nothing but love and adoration for Sirius, love and adoration Sirius didn't deserve.

Remus purses his lips and picks up the pen with firmer fingers.

"I'm sorry," Sirius says, faster than he can stop himself.

Remus' hands freeze, and he looks up in Sirius in disbelief. "What?"

"I'm sorry," repeats Sirius. "I shouldn't have said that. It was rude of me."

Remus nods. "Yes, well. It's -- it's all right." His eyes return to the paper, and he reads over it one last time, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles Sirius has put in it. He smiles, soft and bittersweet, and it almost stops Sirius' heart to see. "Wonder how it all happened. Us. This."

Sirius coughs, and subtly brushes an eyelash away from his eye.

"Guess we just fell apart," Remus shrugs, still smiling that awful smile. "I mean, you see it happening, but I couldn't help but think it would never happen with us."

"Me -- me too," Sirius croaks, feeling a thousand years old. His voice won't stop cracking, and he hates himself for it.

"For a while, I thought we were going to make it through. After James and Lily died. Even if it was just for Harry. I suppose I was wrong." He smiles at Sirius again, a sad thing that lifts the corner of his mouth half-heartedly, and Sirius wonders how long it's been since Remus last smiled properly.

"And Harry?" asks Sirius, a little more life in his voice. "How is he?"

"He's sleeping," Remus answers quickly. "I wasn't -- I wasn't sure how good it would be for him to see you. To see us like this."

"You're probably right," rasps Sirius. He wishes he could be the perfect Godfather to Harry, the parent that Harry deserves, but he isn't, and he hates himself for it. He feels guilty for feeling relieved that he won't have to see Harry, and he knows Remus can see it.

"He misses you a lot, you know. Won't stop asking about you."

Sirius can hear the bitterness in Remus' laugh. "I'm sorry," he repeats dumbly, for the third time.

"Don't be," says Remus briskly, before seizing the pen and moving it towards the paper in earnest this time. "Both of us played our part in this."

That isn't true. Sirius knows that he's the one to blame, just as well as Remus does. He watches the pen lift and drop, arcing smoothly down towards the paper . . .

"Stop." The word spills from Sirius' lips, louder than he'd intended for it to, and he realises he's standing up.

Remus blinks, and looks up at him. "Stop?" he asks quizically. "You're the one who asked for this. Isn't this what you wanted?"

Sirius' chest is heaving, and he clutches onto the table. "I don't know," he says, panicking.

Remus sets the pen down. "You don't know?" he repeats scathingly.

He's hurt, and Sirius knows he has every right to be.

"I don't want you to not be my husband." He forces the words out, even though they tear at him inside.

"You haven't been a very good husband, lately," Remus says at last, and Sirius is horrified to see tears glistening around his lashes.

"I know. And I haven't been a good father to Harry, either. And I'm sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry. And I can't promise you I'll fix myself and make it all better right away, because I can't. But I'm still so in love with you, and being away from you is the worst thing I've done to myself, ever. And I've done some pretty fucked up shit." He chokes a weak laugh out, and reaches up a hand to brush away the tears that are already falling from his eyes. He sits back down.

Remus hasn't said anything for the past minute, but the tears by his lashes have begun to fall from his honey-coloured eyes.

"Don't," says Sirius harshly, once he's managed to wipe the dampness away from his own eyes. "Don't cry over me. I don't deserve it."

His voice cracks as he says it, and his throat aches like it never has before, and the shame is overwhelming, so he hides his face in his palm, and tries to look anywhere but Moony's face.

Remus makes no move to stem the tears that flow from his eyes, as he continues to stare at him, golden eyes on washed-out grey. He picks up the awful paper, and crumples it in his hand like Sirius has wanted to do since he first printed the form out, and he tosses it to the floor.

He reaches across the table, and takes Sirius' free hand. "Maybe we don't sign it just yet," he suggests.

"Judge'll be bloody annoyed," Sirius mumbles into his hand, before moving it so that he can look at Remus properly.

Remus smiles, and rubs his thumb gently across Sirius' hand in his. "I know. But I think we'll be okay."

#wolfstar #remus and sirius married #divorce #moomy and dadfoot #remus and sirius raise harry #marauders #modern marauders #marauders au #marauders fic #married wolfstar #angst #wolfstar angst #angst with a happy ending #y'all can't hate me for this #harry potter #james and lily are dead #sirius' motorbike #zfs #sirius x remus

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chalk-alchemist · 4 years

Text

only a friend thing

we pushing my own feelings into writing again

but this is not angst for once so don't worry!! imma say it now- feelings suck. I hate them and want em gone. anyway! we love Alfonse in this house and we love lif but hes in the works rn so its okay so we gotta give our mobile marth some love!

anyway I doubt it needs to be said but spoilers for book iii. does anyone pay attention to the plot? idk but be warned.

tbh I might ban myself from writing for Alfonse ever again because what the fuck did I do

Being the summoner of Askr was no easy task. With magic not really existing in your world, summoning was draining. Anna said when she summoned you she tapped into her own magic force to use Breidablik which confused you at first.

“Anna, don’t you wield an axe?” You sprawled out on the couch, draping your legs across the lap of the Askran prince seated on the other end. The blue haired male didn’t mind and lifted his book to continue to read.

The red head hummed in response. Sharena snuck up behind her, wrapping her arms around Anna’s shoulders. “We all have magic abilities! Alfonse and I have more magic potential because we’re the royal siblings of Askr!”

Anna nodded. “So I have magic essence inside of me, but can’t use it.”

You started aimlessly kicking your legs up, thinking to yourself. Alfonse held left arm down on your legs to try and keep you still. “Y/n please, hold still.”

You only huffed and turned your head to stare at the two females. “So then.. How can I summon? Magic is.. Well it’s considered fiction in my world.”

Anna stayed silent for a second, lost in thought. You were right. The orbs couldn’t just give you magical powers, could they? Sharena took the opportunity to speak up. “You’ve just tapped into someone’s magic ability! That or you’ve just come accustomed to living here in Askr!”

You hummed, leaning over the edge of the couch again. Tapped into someone’s magic ability huh? Interesting. You didn’t think much on it, asking Alfonse to pass you some books. Some you could read some you couldn’t. It wasn’t your fault. You were just too busy to continue your lessons on the language of Askr with the royal siblings. They were as well- Sharena, being the disaster lesbian she is, decided her time with her girlfriend was of utmost important so she left the lessons between you and Alfonse. Nobody minded, especially Alfonse himself.

He was happy for his sister and Eir. Sharena’s cheerful personality seemed to light up the quiet and reserved girl. He could hear Sharena’s loud voice accompanied by soft giggles anytime he did anything. Specifically when he ventured into the gardens, for they were there in each other’s embrace. Anna would always comment on them and Eir would turn bright red, holding Sharena’s hand tighter. Once, you and Alfonse were curled up in a corner of the library reading books on tactics when the trio of girls came in. Eir and Sharena were glancing away, both with bright red faces. Anna had mentioned something about Sharena saying “That’s my sister!”.

Which led you to your current predicament.

With your lessons to learn Askran temporarily on hold, you didn't have much need to seek out the prince. As the Prince of Askr, he had his own duties to tend to. You two held tactics meetings together, had study sessions on other worlds together, and would summon together. But there was no room for anything else.

That itself was both good and bad. Upon summoning Grima, you had realized that maybe you had some sort of feelings for the prince. It wasn’t when he defended you from the Fell Dragon, but when you two were talking about them. He had given you one of his real smiles as you two laid on the floor of the summoning platform and you had come to the realization that you were royally fucked. So the slight separation was good to calm your nerves, but bad because you couldn’t help but miss his company.

You also had plenty of time to think about what Anna said in that time apart.

Sister.

You knew the only children of Gustav and Henriette were Alfonse and Sharena. And since Anna was well, one of the Annas, there’s no way she could be apart of the Askran royal family. Meaning she would have to marry in. And in order for Sharena to be called sister...

Oh how royally fucked you were indeed.

It’s as if Anna knew your feelings so the next time you and Alfonse were stretched out on a couch in the library together, she marched in and sat on the chair across from the couch you two were on.

“Alfonse have you seen my sister?”

The blue haired male didn’t bother looking at her as he handed you another book on Askr. “Which sister? Or are they cousins? There’s a lot of you, Commander.”

She rolled her eyes as you handed him back the book. “Alfie I can’t read this.”

He took the book, switching it out for another one as Anna spoke up. “No Alfie. I mean Sharena.”

You tensed up slightly, sending a narrow gaze at Anna. She winked, leaning forwards in her chair.

“With her girlfriend. They’re inseparable. And stop calling her your sister you aren’t related to her.” The prince rolled his eyes while handing you another book.

“Yet.”

“Mother isn’t adopting you.”

It was as if one of Tharja’s curses had been lifted off of you. You felt a cool, relieving sensation while you watched Anna groan and walk out of the library.

After that, things went back to normal. Mostly. Alfonse and you spent more time in the library together on your couch on the back. Sometimes you’d fall asleep on his chest, leaving him stuck for hours. Not that he minded.

It... Somewhat became a regular activity between you two. Especially when the Order started fighting Hel. In those nine days in which he was cursed, you two could often be found in the other’s arms in some corner.

It was a friendly thing, you told yourself. It’s only because I’m his only friend outside of Anna and Sharena.

It’s just a friend thing. Right?

In the middle of the night you would often find him slipping into your room with the same excuse of “Sharena moves around too much.”. You never denied him, only scooting over to give him some room. Why would you deny him? He’s your best friend and not to mention he was going to die in less than a week. Until he didn’t. Despite the strained relationship with his father, he still struggled greatly with the loss. So once more, you found yourself comforting him in the dead of night. But it was okay because it’s just a friend thing, right?

After the conflict with Hel was over there wasn’t a need for you to visit him in the night. You missed it, so you settled for naps on him in the library. Nobody commented on it openly, as you did hear Eir and Sharena say something about you two. But it was not your concern on what it was. You two were just friends, and it was just a friend thing.

Right?

You sat on the hard stone of the summoning platform, deep in thought. You didn’t hear the footsteps approaching you or the question being asked. It was only until arms had been wrapped around you and a chin had rested upon your shoulder. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey Alfie.”

The man in question snorted. “Yes, Y/n?”

“What, do you not like that nickname? Should’ve said so months ago.” You rolled your eyes, leaning against his chest.

The two of you sat in silence, thinking about who knows what. The silence wasn’t awkward just comforting. You and Alfonse were a pair not meant to be kept apart. Nothing could change the air between you. When Sharena forced him into his spring costume, you were the only one who manage to keep your eyes level with his. (He didn’t need to know that wasn’t true)

“Y/n.” Alfonse straightened his posture, pulling slightly away. “Grima and I were talking the other day...”

You pulled back, turning around to face him. “Grima?”

It was odd. The topic of Grima was once again here on the summoning platform. You had spaced out before blinking and turning your attention back to Alfonse.

Hold on.

When was he so close?

His hand brushed against your cheek ever so slightly. You glanced up at him, slightly concerned. “Alfonse?”

He responded with a smile. “Were you listening?”

You shook your head, preparing to speak as his lips pressed against yours. As quick as they were there, they had left and he was looking away. “I said, it’s more than just a friend thing.”

You had no response, only curling up at his side once more.

#fire emblem heroes #feh #alfonse x reader #reader insert #alfonse loving hours #honestly I hate this I cant write for alfonse every again

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qyu-inactive · 3 years

Text

MY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT OUTTAKES 16-18.5 BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY

We have been blessed with 3.5 glorious new parts to the wonderful Losty Aone/ Mountain Man Series by the wonderful, amazing, awe-inspiring @shhhlikeme and i am emotional and have many many feelings about it all.

Outtake 16

I love that we got to see this from the reeader’s point of view, it was nice to see our losty y/n and see how their feeling. It was a nice break from feeling sad about Aone’s broken heart.

This part made me laugh ahaha

After dating and breaking up with him, Aone had females constantly approaching him. A/N: Not constantly but it felt that way for you ofc lol

the jealously😂, the Author’s note too like “it wasnt like that at all” 😂 this emotional person (y/n) is just blowing up the situation.

and then this:

In other words: They want what you had.

i mean of course they would, Aone is the sweetest boy but only to someone he loves. Aone’s heart is too strong to let waver to someone knew so quick

This whole outtake all i could think about was that Y/n really needs to get back with her mountain man, first they want to break up so Aone finds someone new but then doesnt want him to find someone new. Like cleary y/n is not being honest with herself or Aone.

When they went to the library, ahhh y/n really just imagining the worst scnenarios in their head😂

“Oh,” your stomach flipped. “He looks so cute.” You put on a 🥺 face when you noticed how utterly adorable a standing Takanobu looked

🥺🥺🥺 Aone is always such a cutie, and y/n really broke this man’s heart😭 I know it was insecurites but still. These two are so in love but just wont get back together.

The outfit y/n is wearing😍 you always pick these really cute and sexy outfits and I appreciate y/ns confidence and style but it is not me 😂😂 but Aone thirsting over his girl tho, i would dress up like that if it meant getting looked by Aone like that 😂

I love Aone’s plan, like he is such a sweetheart and he’s making me all soft at all his effort to win his girl back🥺🥺

This outtake really gave up all the feels y/n is feeling with breaking up with Aone and I am enjoing it 😂. At the same time though I just want these to love birds to get back together ahhhhh.

One of the things I really love about this story is how strong the friendship is and how we see the outside characters really show how much they care. A lot of stories (like shojou, oh man you dont know how much shoujo manga ive read haha) just sideline their friends after the start talking to their love interest or they dont even have friends at all in the whole story. I really enjoyed seeing Katana be a voice of reason in our losty’s life. And of course the K_nji’s being our boy Aone’s best friends.

Outtake 17

okay we starting with the real friends the K_nji’s warning our boy Aone about the situation. I love them and how much they care 😂. They can be dumbasses but still, I appreciate their effort.

The University—our University— sent her a uniform that’s a size or two too small.

Does this mean they’re going to the same university? or am I reading too much into it? It might have been mentioned before but I cant remember off the top of my head. Also Aone really living his best life and his worst life rn 😂😂 like he gets to see his girl in a super tight cheer leading uniform and spend one on one time with her but he cant do anything about his desires. His confidence tho haha “I’ve seen Y/N in a cheerleading uniform before” not like this you havent😏

Aone Takanobu can truly say—if he could speak—that he will never even question Futakuchi again.

Again I just really love their friendship, parts like this really get me 😂😂😂

When y/n took out Aone’s jacket automatically🥺🥺 my hearttttt, and how long Aone’s jacket is on them🥺🥺 this whole part made me so softtt. Like imagine wearing his jacket🥺🥺 it would be so comfy and warm.

There are so many golden lines I loved from this part, but Aone’s spank bank is just a phrase I wasnt expectng to read but it is gold. Im sure his bank is full and loaded😂

Then some random gross guy comes up to y/n, like the audacity of this guy.

He had such a disgusting grin on his face

🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮 this guy can back offfff.

I really love when Aone comes in to protect the reader🥺🥺 he’s not the iron wall for nothing too.

Your knight has arrived. Your ex-knight. ☹️

and then you go and hurt me again😭😭

I really wanted Aone to just kick a dude in the chest, like step the fuck off 😂😂.

“Take one more step toward her.” Aone growled in the smoothest voice.

“I dare you.” Aone added, for good measure.

Im absolutely swooning, Aoneeeeee🥺🥺🥺. And the fact that he wanted the reader to come with him so she wouldnt get anyone bothering her😭😭 he’s such a gentlemen. No one bothers Aone’s girl whose not his girl at the moment, especially guys who arent wanted

now onto the fun part of this outtake😏 I wasn’t expecting to see texts but it was definitely a nice addtion!! Our poor Aone soo horny and sweet, I dont know if the dead squirrels worked hahaha.

but he couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to edit all of this together in the time frame he promised he would with only one hand.

this went over my head when i read it the first time omg😂😂😂 Im sure Aone can do it, he’s a very capable man. This whole section had me laughing but also feeling slightly bad for Aone, again his poor horny heart right now is conflicted but very much fed. Im glad he was able to get a break, I dont think his length could wait (im not used to using subtle language hahaha) anyway this whole part was fun to read.

Aone bit his juicy bottom lip,

I legit bit my lip just before reading this part😂

Outtake 18 & 18.5

Now we’re hitting the climax!! (after Aone just hit his climax and is about to hit again😗)

—who imo really should return to their own homes now but would rather not—

I mean do these two even have their own homes anymore😂, theyre basically apart of the Aone family now. Family who also understand when to leave their horny pal alone for time being.

OKAY ONTO THE IMPORTANT PART!!! AHHHHHHHH.

“Aone-senpai, do you even have snapchat?!”

“Obviously not.” Kenji answered for his friend, being snappy.

“WELL HE SHOULD GET IT BECAUSE I SAW—“

Did Kanji see Y/N and Takeru?????? I also cant believe I learnt Takeru was a third year from this series, I always thought he was a second year for some reason. I think cos he was ennoshita’s rival. not important rn lmao

“—because Aone-senpai is jacking off again. It makes you feel lighter, and happier—so that’s why,”

this boy, there are some things you just shouldnt say out loud. Some things can be left unsaid (not like im blunt with my friends sometimes haha but still)

When Kenji had found out about why y/n dumped Aone😭😭😭😭 I’m glad he found out earlier then Aone, I wouldnt have wanted him to yell at the reader again.

Anyone that can do that, be so selfless—is good enough for his best friend.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“I can tell its her because that’s your sweater she’s wearing. Right? It says Takanobu on the back, and I remember seeing Y/N steal it out of your bag after practice once.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺these parts really just made me soft. like the fact that y/n still had the jacket and wanted to wear it out. and the absolute coincedence that they were in the same cinema as Aone.

“Y/N.—Sh-She-She is wearing my attire. What does that mean?”

Yeah, big guy.

Yeah, you have a chance.

Y/N still has a little….tiny bit of feelings for you

YES YES YES FINALLY , I wanted to cry here😭😭 AND THEN KENJI CONFIRMED IT ALL AND AONE THE MAN WENT AND TRIED TO GET HIS GIRL. THIS REALLY IS THE DRAMATIC PART IN THE MOVIE. AND THEN THIS [redacted] TAKERU CAME AND AHHHHH

(Aone would know that face, he only saw it everyday he’s looked in the mirror for the past 3 years)

Absolutely dead. All hope—gone.

You make me happy and then just rip out my heart like 2 minutes later. I was going from crying happy tears to sad tears in like a heartbeat.

ALSO YOU DONT KNOW HOW UPSET I WAS WHEN I GOT TO THE END OF PART 18 I DIDNT REALISE THERE WAS 18.5 AND WAS AFRAID THAT THIS WAS IT AHHHHHH. I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO PLAY WITH MY FEELINGS THEN JUST LEAVE.

“I’m worried about you.” She finished, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen her.

y/n really has some good friends with her🥺

uhhh then Takeru comes in, I dont really hate him but no one stands in between our losties love, they deserve each other and no one can stand between them.

“But, tonight, if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m just one theatre over… Okay? I have a pretty comfortable shoulder, so just text me.”

Okay this was pretty nice of Takeru, like cheesy but at least he cares and isnt staring at y/n like a peace of meat he wants to devour...

You sent it. Received a response within seconds saying he was on his way.

This boy, hes got a good heart but this isn’t your story bud, im sorry.

There! Kenji-san and Koganagewa-san, two males who were looking at you and Takeru as if you two were the villains in the movie that just popped out of the screen.

if this doesnt go well these two seem like they’re going to fight y/n outside the cinema😭😂 I couldnt imagine getting death stares from the K_njis especially after hurting Aone basically twice now.

Finding HIM was all that mattered.

OKAY THIS WHOLE PART, LIKE YES GO GET YOUR MAN PLEASE. LIKE Y/N CANT JUST LEAVE THIS RIGHT HERE LIKE THIS.

white hair visible only because his head was down, forehead kissing the steering wheel, his shoulders vibrating slightly because he is crying. It’s him.

I cant take anymore sad Aone😭😭 He needs the biggest hug and his girl to be his girl again. He has gone through so much.

“Kenji-san, please leave me—““Not Justin Bieber look-alike!”

I cant with the Justin Bieber look-alike. 😂😂

Im just going to talk about my feelings for this part, but the whole confesson. I felt like crying, i feel like crying now reading it😭 it was just so beautiful. Like y/n explaing everything and saying Aone is the only man she’ll ever love. Throughout the series we really go to understand Aone’s feelings so deeply and how passionate he is but we didnt really get to see how y/n felt as much so reading this made me happy for Aone for the fact that his girl loves him as much as he loves her. They really were lost for each other, lost with out each other, but together they were

Found.

okay maybe im tearing up now😭😭

One more marathon to go and our happy couple can live happily. The fact that this story is nearly over is a little sad but I’m happy our losties found each other. Im thinking since the next parts will be the last I’ll talk about overall themes I liked and my favourite moments as well.

#shhhlikeme #Losty Aone #Losty mountain man series #this took longer then i expected but i can finally post it!!!!

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