#well most of his difficulty comes from an uncertainty of who he really is
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Leo frowns at his phone.
Or more specifically, at the test on his phone.
Around him, he hears the sound of his brothers tapping their own devices, much faster than he is. Looking up just makes Leo feel worse about his own progress - or lack-thereof.
Mikey’s the fastest, speeding through the test like nobody’s business. He’d been the one to make them all do this stupid test in the first place, so it makes sense that he’s having a blast.
Raph’s slower than Mikey is, but he’s still clearly answering the questions at a steady pace. Sometimes he looks unsure, but he powers through anyway.
Donnie often looks frustrated, which relieves Leo somewhat because at least someone is struggling like him. But that “struggle” isn’t nearly as big as his own, considering that Donnie is answering about as fast as Raph is.
Leo turns his gaze back down to his own test. He’s still near the beginning, he thinks.
He’d put the same answer for the past seven questions - the middle of the road answer, neither a “yes” or a “no.” Then, whenever he does come across one that is more one direction than the other, he second guesses himself and restarts the test!
Sure, there are a few he could definitely give a yes or a no to, but…never the “strongly agree” or “strongly disagree” that the test seemed to want from him.
He eyes his twin sitting nearby, the softshell absorbed in the test. Maybe Leo should copy what Donnie put for some of these…
“DONE!” Mikey’s shout makes Leo freeze in place just as he started to lean over.
“What?” Donnie squawks, “No way you’re already finished, you must’ve been cheating!”
“It’s a personality test, Dee!” Mikey stuck his tongue out, “You can’t cheat at those!”
…
Leo settles back into his seat.
Ignoring Donnie’s mutterings about how it was “just because it’s not an academic test” that he didn’t finish first, Raph smiles encouragingly at Mikey.
“Hey, good job! So what’d you get, Mike?”
Mikey looks back down at his test, reading aloud, “Says that I got the “Campaigner”!”
“What’s that mean?” Leo asks, his phone screen going dark.
“Apparently, I’m an “enthusiastic, creative, and sociable free-spirit”.” Mikey reads, smiling at them, “You think it fits?”
“Oh, to a T, bro!” Leo laughs, giving Mikey a thumbs up, making Mikey’s smile grow larger.
Inside, Leo was feeling a lot more mixed about this. He has no idea how Mikey knew himself so well. Maybe Donnie was right and Mikey did cheat, because how could he answer those questions so easily?
Leo’s phone burns in his hand. He keeps it locked.
“Wow, that really is you.” Raph says, his eyes flitting back and forth between his own test and Mikey, “Do you think it fits?”
“I guess? It’s fun to see at least!” Mikey shrugs with a grin.
“Hold on, I think…” Raph makes a noise of satisfaction, “Okay, done!”
“Sigh, now I’m relegated to the straggler group.” Donnie grumbles, his thumbs moving faster as he tries rushing through the questions.
“Ooh, what’d you get Raph?” Mikey asks, practically bouncing in curiosity.
“Says, uh…I got something called the “Consul”?” He squints his eyes to read more, “Uh, “caring, social, and community-minded.””
“Sounds about right to me.” Leo nods. Can’t be more “community-minded” than being a hero.
“Yeah, no one’s more caring than you, Raphie!” Mikey says, moving to lean across Raph’s shell.
“You do put the community in mind, that’s for sure.” Donnie states, not looking up.
Raph chuckles, a bit embarrassed, “Aw, thanks. It’s just some test, but it feels kinda good to hear that.”
Just a test. Right.
Leo unlocks his screen.
The test stares back at him.
Right. Okay. He can do this. He can.
The screen ends up going dark again.
Frustration builds up in Leo. Was he even halfway done with the test? At this rate, soon even Donnie will-
“FINISHED.”
Leo unlocks his phone.
“What’d you get, DonTon?” Leo asks as his thumb taps the top right of the screen.
Donnie puffs up proudly, a self sure grin on his face, “I got the result “Logician” which states that I, obviously, am an “innovative inventor with a thirst for knowledge.” Truly could not have described me better, if I do say so myself.”
“It is pretty accurate.” Raph agrees with a nod, “Even calls you an inventor, so extra accurate.”
“Super accurate.” Mikey jumps in, eyes shining.
“Yes, yes, almost like reading my own character synopsis.” Donnie’s grin had not dwindled since the word “innovative” had left his mouth.
Leo just nods along, eyes on his own screen as he skims the words. “Yeah, kinda creepy how close it got. Could have called you a nerd for extra accuracy, though.”
Donnie turns to him, eyes narrowing, “Have you even finished your test? I can think of a few words that’d describe you fairly well.”
“Test-y, huh?”
Before Donnie can strangle Leo, Raph cuts in.
“Ok, ok, calm it down, guys.” He rolls his eyes before turning to Leo. “But really, you’re not done yet?”
“Leo’s taking this self reflection seriously.” Mikey sports a faux intellectual expression as he gives a jokingly serious nod. “Maybe we all should’ve taken our time.”
“Says the one who sped through the whole thing in a record time.” Donnie mutters.
Leo waves them all off, “Nah, I finished it ages ago.”
He grins when Donnie immediately shoots him a suspicious glare. “Oh, you did, did you? Then what could you have possibly gotten, Nardo?”
“I’m glad you asked!” Leo clears his throat, “Neon Leon just so happens to be an “Entertainer.””
“Ah. That confirms it. This test is meaningless.” Donnie drones.
“Hey-“
“What’s an Entertainer like?” Mikey asks with a tilt of his head, still hanging off of Raph’s shell.
“Glad you asked, Miguel!” Leo exclaims, “It says that “life is never boring” around yours truly~”
He emphasizes this “result” of his by waving his phone with said “result” on screen.
It’s just an image he found of his chosen personality result, but they don’t need to know that.
Raph nods slowly, “Well, I guess that’s true…”
“”Never boring” is one way to put it.” Donnie hums.
“You are pretty fun, Leo!” Mikey says emphatically, because he’s great like that.
“Thank you, thank you, life of the party, right here.” Leo grins, pointing both thumbs at himself.
He’s careful not to go too overboard with it, or else it might tip someone off.
Not that it…really matters. It’s just a test. Like Raph said.
As the topic around him shifts to something else, jumping away from this brief activity as fast as any other among them, Leo finds himself unlocking his phone and pulling up the test again.
Unanswered questions stare at him. He knows what answers Lou Jitsu would pick. He knows what answers Jupiter Jim would pick. Hell, he knows exactly what answers his brothers would pick.
He doesn’t know what answers Leonardo would pick.
Leo stares at the test for a second longer, before he exits the site and throws himself into the conversation happening around him.
It’s just a stupid test, nothing to worry about.
Just a test…
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rottmnt headcanons#rise leo#could not ignore this idea that hit my brain haha#if you disagree with me on what personality types I gave the boys that’s fine tbh#picked mbti since it was the first one I thought of but again it like most of these tests isn’t super worth putting stock into#these tests are kinda dumb anyway but they’re fun to take#for some#anyway I love thinking about Leo struggling with his sense of identity#and in turn struggling with what is a persona and what is HIM#how much is a mask how much is built from taking traits from others how much is real how much is fake#even he doesn’t know#protagonist is probably a good choice for leo but I’m also tied to him secretly being the introverted type as well so#bit more of an ambivert maybe#he’s got aspects of a lot of them hence the difficulty answering questions#well most of his difficulty comes from an uncertainty of who he really is#again what is him and what is his mask#or masks#what even is his true self if his self is someone he’s never bothered to meet#a lot of the little details of his personality - the parts of him that we see peek out throughout the series and often on his own -#- they align with personality types that you would never think of when looking at him and his masks at face value#that’s not to say it’s all masks - he’s a goofy guy at his core - but he’s more than he lets on and we’re made privy to that in subtle ways#though fr protagonist is prob Leo’s most likely result
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Nick meet Silver
When the door finally opens, I really don't know who the two of us is the more surprised. In front of me squats with her dog and a single pistol the most amazing person I have seen in several decades, a woman.
Not I haven't seen any women, starting with my sweet secretary Ellie, but THIS woman.
She pierces me with the greenest look I've seen in my life, and this only detail wasn't enough. Her long, very long hair falls down her lower back as if this kind of hairstyle can still be worn in our era, a few locks as pale and shiny as silver going to tickle the hand still holding the 10mm, now aimed at me with uncertainty.
The German Shepherd with the beauty's other arm around his neck seems to understand better than the two bipeds staring at each other without saying a word.
And hell, the bitch is beautiful, there's no denying it. Apart from her long hair that caresses her lower back and her green eyes that seem to catch the little light in the room, she has what are called full lips which look like they were made for kissing. The line of her jaw is cut and even if I suspect a certain malnutrition to be at the origin of the sharpness of her features, her high cheeks and her general demeanor accentuate the impression that she belongs to a race apart.
What the fuck is this pretty lass with a toy in her hand doing in this mess? She must have a partner, this sniper who lightened the spirit of my dear companion of fortune. But then, why doesn't he thaw the atmosphere if his partner plays dumb?
She finally approaches me slowly, still silent, getting up as if she had to burst six atmospheres to get there. She fully enters the light in the middle of the room and that's when I notice the three pink furrows tearing her left jowl, starting in fact from her forehead and crossing her eyebrow to end just a fingertip from her so shiny lips. I need a cigarette, for sure, then I light myself before speaking.
“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario” did I tell her, making a step in turn. “Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?”
She continues to slowly move on, her two delicate eyebrows furrowing. Me who thought to relax the situation she seems to have so much difficulty dealing with with this touch of humor, it becomes downright to cut with a knife. I realize at the same time there’s no partner will appear.
The pretty one is alone.
With her dog.
“What... are you?" she mumbles.
Here we are! I don't know where this weirdo comes from, but it's amazing how quickly mystical energy packs into a few words.
“Told you. I'm a detective. Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain't comforting, but it's not important right now. The only thing that matters is why you went to all this trouble to cut me loose.” She still won't tell me why she came to pull me out of the guts of hell and even if I ask her again, I still get her preferential treatment. “The silent routine isn't getting us anywhere...”
Something lights up in her eyes. A look that disturbs me more than it should, by the way. What's wrong with this girl I can't put my finger on?
“My son Shaun is missing” she throws me in a completely different tone, as if she finally woke up. “He was kidnapped, but I don't know who took him, or where they went.” The more she talks, the more surprised I am. Her tone, her voice, it sounds naive. All her speech is the beautiful classic of the damsel in distress, for what I know. She's touching in her candor but...Candy doesn't smash a bunker stuffed in every corner with mobs armed to the teeth.
When the thing is too amazing, it’s better to go with the flow and observe. I tell myself all things considered, at least I have a savior. I'll try to figure out what's bothering me once out.
“A missing kid, huh? Well, you came to the right man.” What a professional distortion! Come on, Nick, you're not in your office. “If not the right place.” I try to recompose the best I can, more disturb then I first think. “I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak."
Come on, Nick, what's wrong with you? The girl seems out of time, so you take your time? He's pressing though, don't you want to get caught in a mousetrap with the lady and end up in swiss cheese?
“Anyway, you got troubles, and I'm glad to help.” Yet she listens to me as if it's up to me to decide when we leave. “But now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint. Then we'll talk.”
She dares to approve. Miss Silver turns on her heels and raise her gun, returning in the bowels of the vault by carefully avoiding open spaces and light.
"Malone's crew here used to be small time, muscled out of the old neighborhood by bigger players.” I can't help but provide the girl. “Until they found this place. Don't know what happened to the previous owners, but they're not exactly around to charge rent. An empty vault. Perfect hideout."
Ok, I like to chat, but for once, I feel out. This girl, she's weird, she makes me feel weird, but I don't know if it's scary yet. I get some glance occasionally as if she’s recording everything I say. Unable to understand her, I fall back on what I can and therefore analyze the current situation (Silver Ranger notwithstanding). Anyway, she walks quietly without saying anything. So quietly then I could hear some footsteps coming in our direction.
"Hold up! I hear some of them coming.” We crouch on the edge of a wall, having the cafeteria in front of us, when we see three thugs landing in the room. “There they are. How do you want play this?"
I don't know at this point I'm about to swallow my quid and probably a few teeth.
She passes like a ghost by my side, and it allows me to get a better view of her weapon while she was in my sight. A long snake as green as her eyes has been painted there. A clue? I have no time to ask myself, the dog growls in one direction and immediately, the detonation of the weapon is followed by a strange gurgling then a collapsing body.
I didn't even figure out where the bad guy was standing.
He is dead.
“Hard and loud, huh? Well, it gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors...”
I still don't know who I'm dealing with but get to know she doesn't respond with words, of course, why bother communicating in such a non-distracting way.
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In the 2012 documentary “The Act of Killing” there is an opening sequence that immediately strips the film down to what it is. It claims to be testimonials and reenactments of killings of communists by Indonesian gangsters that made them heroes to their fellow countrymen. By following Anwar Congo as he details the horrors he committed, the filmmakers give this man an almost heroic pedestal from where he can detail his acts of villainy. Due to the voice being given to him we understand that he is no true villain, as he states, “I can feel what the people I tortured felt. Because here my dignity has been destroyed, and then fear come, right there and then. All the terror suddenly possessed my body. It surrounded me and possessed me.”
Anwar has portrayed himself honestly to the audience and it creates a moral uncertainty in many viewers. Not in condoning the torture he committed, or the killings, but to acknowledge this man as human, a human who had a purpose and reason and feels the good in life just as any normal person does. This man is not inherently evil and that creates a difficulty to hate, rather his pain is understood, and his regret is sincere, and even more so is his national pride relatable to many, especially Americans.
What the filmmakers wanted to come from this film, whether that be justice for those murdered or a simple telling of the story, the film has done what documentary is meant to do, give a story built in our real life that feels as a creative treatment of actuality. Many might deny the truthfulness of it, and others will eb revolted but all will be affected in ways deeper than a fiction film can do, because documentary works in our own world and not in an imaginative one. As Anwar also states, “We can make something even more sadistic than... more sadistic than what you see in movies about Nazis. Sure, I can. Because there's never been a movie where heads get chopped off - except in fiction, but that's different - because I did it in real life!”
To make a documentary detailing the national pride gangsters felt while murdering countless of their self-proclaimed enemies, all while they make their own film about it is something poetic. It is an eye-opening experience for the audience and for our characters as well, where many begin to question their own decisions and lives. Some question if what they did was right, others question if they can keep their heroic standing after this, and others wonder why they did it at all. The audience is left to ponder these questions as well and ask themselves howe they feel towards such men. Is it understanding? Empathy? Disgust? Pity? All of these and more?
Anwar himself brings the documentary to a close by having a deep reflection on himself and his actions on a rooftop where he committed some of his most vial atrocities. This same man then recounts the stories while retching, all the while asking if he has sinned. Having played the victim of these killings in his own film, he had his own eyes opened before us, and the audience can conclude on their own opinions of the film and the persons portrayed. Perhaps the deepest moment of the film is in Anwar’s final questions before we see the dancers one last time. “Did the people I tortured feel the way I do here? I can feel what the people I tortured felt… Really, I feel it. Or have I sinned. I did this to so many people, Josh. Is it all coming back to me? I really hope it won't.” Regret is a universally understood emotion, and having that moment followed by a final scene of the dancers seems to drive home a theme of this documentary: offenders realize their sins only when they begin to explore feelings of guilt and regret.
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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Rating: R for language and smut.
Words: ~3100 words.
Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.
Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
gif credit: @benbarnxs
Part 16
You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.
As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-
“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”
Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.
***
It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.
“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”
“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”
“And Adam’s body-”
“Will be disposed of.”
“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”
“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”
With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.
“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”
His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”
“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”
“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”
He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.
He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”
You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”
Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”
“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”
“I always am around you.”
His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”
“Shut up.”
Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”
Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.
You smiled. “It is my apartment.”
He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.
Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.
Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.
You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.
An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.
You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.
“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”
“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.
Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.
Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”
He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”
“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”
“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”
You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”
“Can’t really do that.”
“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”
“I’ve had a rough week.”
You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.
”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.
“Move in with me.”
Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.
“That’s not funny, Billy.”
Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”
“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”
“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”
“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”
“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”
“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”
“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”
“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”
“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”
You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”
You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”
“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”
You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.
You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”
You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.
***
Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.
After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”
You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.
“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”
“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”
“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”
“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”
He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.
You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”
Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”
“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”
He nodded his head. “I won’t.”
“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”
“I need to kill that voice.”
You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”
“It took you that long to believe it?”
You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”
He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”
“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.
He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“
“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.
Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”
“Not once have I lectured you naked.”
He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.
A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.
He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”
The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.
Part 17
A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)
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For as long as my heart beats, I will.
Sakusa x f!reader one shot
♡ It was beyond agonizing having to grow up caged in the hospital’s four walls. The smell of antiseptic, the occasional cries from other patients’ bereaved loved ones, the endless pills and constant painful treatments... but the most painful of them all is the uncertainty of living another day. What a joy would it be to find something to look forward to everyday.
word count: 11, 832
Content & Warnings: fluff to angst, talks of sickness (cancer and treatments related to it), kissing, mentions of blood, injections, major character death, let me know if I missed any
- I did as much research as I could about the medical terms and info here. Please do politely point it out if I made any mistakes and let me correct them! <3
“You should definitely contact ‘make a wish”. At least get your last hurrah before we both can’t function anymore”
Last. It bothered you. The word suggested endings and you sure as hell would do anything to avoid meeting yours. Not just yet. But you knew that reality was much more different than you’d like and your friend, aimi, another cancer patient who grew up in the same ward as yours, was right. You were bound to die anyway, might as well do what you wanted to.
“Aimi stop saying that stuff. Come on, lighten up a little! Your favorite handsome doctor won’t like it if you two were to leave me behind, you know?”
“You’re one to speak, toya. You’re healthy as a horse”
One of your doctors, komori motoya, who was interning, was one of your closest friends along with aimi. He has been on your case for roughly two years at the moment and being in the same age bracket, you all got along quite well. Safe to say, he was the breath of fresh air and life amongst the three of you.
“Would you two shut up, you’re making my head pound” it wasn’t an overstatement. Your head really was hurting. Severely. It’s been… a year since you’ve been diagnosed with chronic myeloid leukemia. Though, you’ve been in and out (mostly in) of the hospital since you were five years old. You’re 25 now. Treatments and medicine were helping with the symptoms but it’s probably only a matter of time before it gets worse for you. As a child, you had constant illnesses. Constant difficulty breathing, weak limbs, inability to digest food at times, and now this. The hospital was more or less your home.
“Oh yn, aimi, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you two later when I go on rounds”
“Have fun with the surgery” you reply
“All I’m supposed to do is stand and watch though”
“Well yeah I wouldn’t trust you with a scalpel just yet” aimi teased
Komori snickered before running off to prepare to view another surgery.
“Must be nice” aimi sighed
“What is?”
“To be like toya. You know, he’s constantly thinking about his future as a surgeon. All I do is think if I’d still wake up when I take naps”
“Hm. Well what’s your dream anyway? If you know, if we weren’t sick”
“Find a good looking man and ask him to rail me”
“AIMI? There are children here!”
“Ease up yn. Jesus, you’re such a prude”
“L/N, Y/N? Miss L/N, please proceed to the chemo therapy ward” a nurse called
“Alright, I’m going, see you later, mimi”
“Get well soon sweetie” aimi replied.
It had been a tradition for you to see each other off that way. Maybe the small sense of hope of getting better slightly made things a little brighter.
As usual, you greeted the nurses and doctors there. The other patients as well. There was a new doctor though. A good looking one at that. Maybe aimi could shoot her shot with him, you thought.
Without much to do while receiving treatment, you watched the new doctor work. With the little bear pinned on his white coat and lollipops sticking out of his pockets, he looks to be a pediatrician. He crouched down to be eye level with one of the kids. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop but the close proximity made sure that you could hear their conversation nevertheless.
“How’s our brave mio doing? Does it hurt anywhere?” He smiled while asking the kid
“Mhm. It hurts here, and here, and here. But mama said if I’m brave today, you’d give me a lollipop!”
“Is that so?” He smiled again while giving the kid’s shoulder a light squeeze before continuing. “Well your mama’s right. So be brave again today, okay?”
The child smiled so brightly as if the pain he talked about moments ago was suddenly non existent.
Lost in the moment, you didn’t notice how the doctor found you staring at their exchange.
“Miss? Something wrong?”
“O- oh! No no, nothing’s wrong. Just spaced out you know, all the meds and stuff” was the best excuse you could come up with
“Oh? Hold on a second. You shouldn’t be experiencing those symptoms even with all the medicine. Are you sure you’re fine? Who’s your doctor?”
“I’m fine, really. Just my emotions, you know?”
He simply nodded. He then reached down to his pockets, pulled out a lollipop, then gave it to you.
“Here,” he said “good job for being brave today too” he mused before turning away to come back to the kid he was originally talking to.
It was a simple act, to say the least. But with everyone close to you being so used to your illness, it had been a while since anyone had ever uttered those words to you. The words cheered you up a little .
Despite you being transferred out of the pediatric ward years ago, the fact that you spent most of your life there made it so that you were fairly close to the staff there, as well as some patients. Up ‘til now, when aimi wasn’t able to be with you due to her health related endeavors, you went to the pedia ward. Usually just to sit there and enjoy the company since both your parents had to work to be able to pay your bills and you were an only child too.
Your new hobby at the moment? Crochet. While sitting at one of the benches there, you started crocheting a little bumble bee patterned plush. You almost looked like a relative waiting for her family member to be discharged. If not for the huge stand you had to wheel around to take your IV bag with you.
“You again? How are your emotions, Ms. patient” the pedia doctor who gave you a lollipop approached you
“May I?” He asked, gesturing to the seat beside you
“Sure”
He took a seat.
“My emotions are fine, by the way. They’re all going into this bee plushie I’m making”
“That so?”
“Mhm. By the way, doc, are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before”
“How long have you been here for you to be able to tell who’s new and who isn’t” he asked
“Hmm I’d say technically since I was five. I mean I was in and out before but two years ago, I was admitted and I haven’t left since”
“What are you in for?”
“Stop making it sound like I was arrested” you laughed while saying
“I just wanted to lighten the mood”
“I have leukemia”
“Well, you look pretty not pale”
“You think so?” The compliment, while bizarre to many, meant a lot to you. Doc seems to be good at flattery and words. And the fact that he didn’t immediately pity you made the conversation all the better. Maybe it was because he was used to such news.
“Yeah, you look healthy enough to sprint out the hospital”
He wasn’t wrong. You were a tad skinny but you somehow still maintained a rather rosy-pale complexion despite your illness. As long as you didn’t run or over exert yourself, you could walk around on your own.
“I would if I could, you know? Don’t tempt me” you joked
“What would you do outside anyway?”
“I would… buy books! Lots of them. And crepes! I love those”
“Why don’t you? You seem healthy enough to ask for a permit for that”
“Nah. My parents are both busy and tired all the time. My other patient friend isn’t allowed to go out anymore. My doctor is almost always on call so he can’t go with me”
“I’ll go with you” he said
“You could be a murderer though”
“I’m literally obviously a doctor”
“We just met too. I don’t wanna be a bother. It’s okay, doc! That was just wishful thinking”
He only nodded in response.
“Dr. Sakusa! Mio’s parents are here now” the nurse called, he immediately complied without saying a word.
Nearly a week has passed since your encounter with “Dr. Sakusa”. A week you spent talking with aimi and komori, crocheting, catching up on the latest celeb gossip and nurse gossip even, since your room is right across the nurses’s station. Your parents also took turns visiting you outside work hours.
“Bitch!” Aimi barged into the door of your room
“Aimi, your voice” you asked her politely to lower her voice. Loud noises made your head pound.
“I’m sorry” she said, hugging you immediately.
“So? What’s got you barging in here?”
“One of the kids told me she saw you talking to a handsome doctor last week! Who?”
“The dude never even removed his mask. What if he’s not handsome without the mask” you joked
“Selfish, come on, who was it?”
“I think his name’s sakusa? He never really told me but I heard the nurse call him”
“He sounds familiar”
“Really?”
“Yeah but I can’t remember. So where is this doctor?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since”
“Oh look, I think toya’s headed here. Toya and… who’s that other guy?”
As the two entered your room, you recognized him immediately.
“Sakusa?”
“How are you today, Ms. patient? Are your emotions doing well?” You found it funny how your little excuse seems to have made its mark with him, enough to earn you a little inside joke as such.
“This is the guy?” Aimi whispered to you to which you nodded
“What are you doing here, doc? And why are you with toya?”
“Motoya is my cousin and I’m here because of this” he handed you a paper bag.
“What’s this?”
“Crepes”
Without a word, your face lit up but before you unboxed the contents of the paper bag, you looked at komori for approval first. He nodded.
“You should have told me you wanted those! I wouldn’t mind going out to get you some, yn. Had my cousin not told me about meeting a girl who was crocheting in front of the pedia ward, I wouldn’t know” komori said
“It’s not like I can’t live without it, toya. But.. thank you so much Dr. Sakusa” you smiled at him
“Kiyoomi” he said very softly
“Huh?”
“You can call me kiyoomi”
“Does that apply to me too?” Aimi asked jokingly
“ ‘course it does! Kiyoomi even bought enough crepes for the both of you” Komori spoke for sakusa
“Thank you kiyoomi!” You and aimi said in unision before digging into the box of sweets.
“I’ll get going now. My patients are waiting for me” sakusa excused himself, leaving you, aimi, and komori.
“Damn toya your cousin looks a little intimidating” aimi stated
“He does look like it. But he’s really nice you know? I mean he’s a pediatrician after all”
“Given that he even bought crepes for me and yn, I’m already approving of him joining our little squad”
“You better not use him for food”
“I won’t!” You all laughed
It made your heart swell. Moments like these, it’s almost as if it was a normal day, living a normal life. A taste of how things might have been, maybe?
Your life proceeded as a routine after. After all, living at a hospital didn’t provide much entertainment. You weren’t mad at your situation. Things happen and people get sick. No one was to blame and being frustrated about it would only add to your stress. Your parents and you yourself have already accepted your condition, as per your request. You agreed to receive treatment but you talked to them, told them you were alright and that you’d do your best to get better but once it becomes too much, you wanted to have the choice of letting go. Fortunately, there was no need to make that choice right now.
“Knock knock” sakusa’s head peeked into your room
“Come in”
“I got you some books. Look, these are the ones you wanted to read”
“Seriously?! Thank you! You have no idea how much I wanted these. Wait how much are they? I have to pay you back”
“No need. These are mine. I read them before already”
“Why are you nice to me?” You suddenly asked which you thought you shouldn’t have after seeing sakusa’s confused and shocked face.
“I don’t mean that in a suspicious way, just… even before you knew I was toya’s friend, you were already nice”
“I’m a doctor. I’m supposed to be nice to patients”
“Okay okay, no need to be defensive” you laughed
“Im not!”
“Okay, doc”
“Oh hey, the weather is nice today” he said, which confused you
“Okay and? Are we that awkward that you had to bring up the weather just to extend the conversation?”
“No I mean, do you want to go out? Just the rooftop or the garden”
“Can I?”
“I’ll ask motoya to ask your attending first”
“Okay but aren’t you busy?”
“No. I get free time because I performed best this week” he spoke while sending a text to komori to ask for permission for you to be able to go out.
“You’re bragging”
“No I’m not- ah here. Motoya replied, you’re allowed to go out. Just for an hour. Let me fix the permit first. Wanna ask aimi to come with us?”
“Not today, I think. She’s… being monitored”
The sudden drop of your mood didn’t escape sakusa. Aimi’s cancer was of the bone. Osteosarcoma. She was supposedly healing but sudden complications came and the past few days have been a little down hill for her. Komori wanted to comfort you but he didn’t know how as he was much closer with aimi and even he was having a hard time taking the situation. He asked his cousin to stop by your room to check on you after his shift.
“Come on, can you walk?”
“‘Course I can”
Sakusa helped you wheel your IV stand as you walked to the elevator.
“Where are we going?”
“Rooftop”
You didn’t know whether your rather fast friendship with the doctor was because of the fact that he was one of the only people you had access to or because he made you feel easy. God knows it took komori a good few months before he got to your good side.
“We’re here” he assisted you out of the elevator
“Oh, I thought we were going to the helipad” you pouted
“You’re not allowed there, plus, it’s nice here, there are lots of plants and fresh air”
You both started walking around the rooftop garden
“Kiyoomi?”
“Hm?”
“Toya… he won’t listen to me when I talk to him about this. He’s not even supposed to be this attached to me. I’m his patient after all”
“What is it about?” Sakusa halted his walking and motioned for you to take a seat with him on a nearby bench
“When I go.. I want to leave some things to someone. You know, letters, memorabilia or something for my family and friends. I know it’s too much and we just met but can I leave them with you?”
“Yn, you’re not dying. Your cancer hasn’t progressed to acute leukemia, we can work something out.”
“You and I both know how untrue that is”
It surprised him. How there was no bitterness in your voice when you said those words. Words describing an inevitable end and yet, only the most genuine tone could be heard. Not a trace of anger. It’s not the sound of someone who has given up either.
“Okay”
“Okay? You’ll do it? Don’t worry, I’ll definitely have a letter and a gift for you!”
“No? I don’t want a letter, say it in person. I’m always here anyway” he joked
“Okay, then come visit me everyday. And bring more crepes! And books”
“Okay, I will. I’m in charge of checking up on your emotions after all”
“As you should, Dr. Kiyoomi”
You shared a heartfelt laugh. You were beyond grateful to have someone so understanding of a dying person like yourself. He talked to you without bias for the most part. He was kind but his kindness was different from that of his cousin’s. While komori cushioned all the blows, Kiyoomi didn’t sugarcoat the words you needed to hear. He was honest but he understands.
The wind blew, the night sky fast approaching, you failed to notice the supposedly beautiful sunset view seen from where you sat. Perhaps having someone who understood your troubles and listened to your thoughts was much more beautiful than any sunset could ever be.
“Hey it’s getting cold. Let’s head back, or else motoya’s going to get an earful”
You nodded and let him guide you back into the elevator. The way back was pretty quiet. Not awkward but rather, an eased quiet. He helped you situate yourself back on the bed, fluffed your pillow, pulled your blanket up.
“Good job for being brave again today” he said before turning towards the door to return to his duties.
Being physically sick, it wasn’t everyday that someone checked on your emotions. After all, emotions won’t exist if you had no physical body to feel it with.
“How’s aimi?” You asked Komori who was having his lunch in your room
“She’s being treated”
“That’s not helpful at all. Come on tell me the truth, toya”
“She’s conscious but she’s intubated so she can’t talk right now”
“Oh” the obvious frown made its way to your face
“No no, you’re not letting your mood drop today. Your emotional support doctor can’t cheer you up today so you can’t be sad”
“My emotional supp- oh kiyoomi? How do you even know about that?” You asked, a little shyly
“He told me how you used your emotions as an excuse for staring at him the first time you guys met”
“I was not staring at him! I was listening to his conversation with the kid!”
“Okay! Calm down”
“Toya”
“What?”
“My next scan is in a few hours”
“You’ll be okay. I know it. You’re healthy as fuck.” It was more of a reassurance for himself at this point.
“I don’t need you being all emotional over me. They’re going to pull you from my case if they notice, you know?”
“I know. Just… please be okay”
Just then, his beeper went off.
“Oh looks like your schedule moved up.
“Komori, I’ll take over from here, you take over my rounds for now” Dr. Sato, the attending in charge of you said as he entered the room.
“Got it, doc. See you later, yn!” he gave your shoulder a tight squeeze before leaving
“You ready?”
“Aren’t I always?”
The tests weren’t time consuming. AS usual, blood was drawn, physical tests, MRI and CAT scans.
You were now back in your room with your mom. The results were going to be relayed to you tomorrow.
“yn, how have you been lately? I’m sorry mom hasn’t been around much, there’s so much work nowadays” she smiled at you
“I’m okay mom. I actually met this really nice doctor. He brings me books and crepes a lot”
“Is that so?”
“mhm, he’s toya’s cousin!”
“Their kindness must run in the blood then”
You looked at your mother. Her bags were heavier than before, she had lost weight, she looked pale. She looked tired. It’s times like these when you feel bad for not being able to support yourself. Then again, how would you even do that when all you could do at most was walk around on your own. Any more than that and you’d end up tired and sicker than you already were.
“Sweetie? What’s wrong?” she must have noticed your sad stare
“Nothing mom, I’m just a little tired” you smiled at her
“Oh then get some rest now. I’ll be here tomorrow for your results, okay? Or maybe dad will”
“Thank you mom”
24 hours passed by in a blink of an eye. Dr. Sato would come by anytime now but neither your mother not father was around. You were a tad scared of what you were about to hear. Your phone buzzed, signaling a text message. It was from your mom. It was of her saying she couldn’t make it. You understood. They both had to work double time just to be able to pay for your bills and you would never hold it against them.
“How’s Ms. Patient doing?” The sudden voice pulled you out of your thoughts
“Kiyoomi, hi”
“You seem down. Did I, your emotional support doctor, not do my job well?” He was obviously trying to lighten your mood
“no no, I’m- just my results are going to be out now”
“you alone?” he asked while tinkering with the small decorations which adorned your bedside table.
“mhm, my parents are busy. Having a daughter in constant need of expensive medical care isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world you know”
“well if that daughter is as nice as you then I’m sure all that is more than worth it”
“You flatter me”
“Want me to stay with you?”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“I am allowed. I’m not your doctor so there’s no issue there as long as you consent to it”
Just then, Dr. Sato entered the room.
“Yn? You ready? Where’s Mrs. l/n?”
“She’s busy today but kiyoomi will keep me company”
“Dr. Sakusa? Since when do you two know each other?”
“He’s in charge of my emotions” you jokingly told Dr. Sato
Sakusa was obviously slightly embarrassed but he laughed a little too.
“okay now, let’s all take a seat and talk about yesterday’s test, okay?”
“okay”
“So, yn. It looks like the treatment we’re trying now is working a little better than the last one we tried. However, this.. how do I say this”
“it’s okay doc, just tell me”
“Well you see, it seems to be progressing faster than we projected. It progresses slower with younger patients but you’re an adult now and it seems to be affecting more and more of your body. the cancer.. has progressed into acute leukemia. The treatment you’re receiving now is definitely slowing the growth but it’s also affecting your healthy cells.”
“so... does this mean the results will be the same whether I get treatment or not?”
“more or less”
You unconsciously grabbed sakusa’s hand. He didn’t pull it back, instead, he squeezed you hand to reassure you that he was there.
“What do you suggest we do, doc?”
“I suggest we try to halt the treatment as it might be doing more harm than good. Let’s stick to oral medication for now, to control the symptoms”
“Okay, doc”
“Don’t we need to hear from your parents too?”
“No, they’re letting me decide these things for myself anyway”
“Okay well if you have any more questions then feel free to ask them or if you want me to step out, I’d leave you for now”
“How long?” Both Dr. Sato and Sakusa knew what you were talking about.
“I can’t say but with cases like yours… it would be around 2 years at most. I’m sorry”
“Oh don’t apologize now, Dr. Sato. You’ve kept me alive for 20 years. That’s more than enough for me to thank you. I literally owe you my life” you said with the widest smile you could muster
“I swear, that attitude of yours is what keeps you going” Dr. Sato mused before he excused himself to visit another patient
In all honesty, you were feeling weaker by the day. The usual walk around the floor becoming more taxing than it used to. You often dropped the things you were holding, your body aches were worstening too. Though luckily, unless someone saw your charts, you could make them believe that you were still fairly healthy. You didn’t notice how despite Dr.Sato being gone for more than a few minutes now and you’ve been lost in thought for a while, you were still holding sakusa’s hands.
“Oh my god kiyoomi I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was still holding onto you”
“It’s okay. So anyway? What do you want to do today? Garden? Want me to get you more pastries? Read a new book maybe? Or play with the kids at the pedia ward?”
“Thank you” was all you could say.
“I’m always here to guard your emotions. It’s my job” he chuckled softly. It was a small inside joke but he was right. Ever since you met him, he has always made you feel more at ease and despite the heavy news dropped on you only moments ago, you already feel a little alleviated that sakusa was able to lighten up the mood as he always does.
“Take me to the rooftop again, kiyoomi. I think I need some fresh air.”
No words were spoken as helped you prepare to head to the said destination. the way there was quiet. He wanted to console you but he didn't know how nor was he sure if you needed to be consoled at all. He guided you out of the elevator and followed you as you walked towards the part of the rooftop where the view of the city was clear as day. You propped your arms against the railing and situated your head on them. Kiyoomi standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, quietly waiting for you to say something.
"I wonder" you said, finally breaking the silence.
"Hm?"
"What I'd be doing now if I wasn't so sick all the time"
"What did you want to be?"
"I wanted to be a doctor actually. I told myself when I was a kid that once I got better, I'd be a doctor so I could treat people who are sick like me"
Sakusa chose not to speak. He wanted to listen more to what you wanted to say. To your dreams, to what you wanted to do.
"I never got better though so here I am" a bitter laugh escaped your lips. The first time Sakusa ever saw and heard you get frustrated because of your condition.
"Spent my whole life here. Never even had a boyfriend. Never even snuck out of the house or gone to late night trips with friends. It sucks."
Sakusa finally turned his head towards you. He saw your eyes, glassy, tears threatening to fall, the warm glow of the sun about to set, reflected against your tear filled irises.
"Ever had a first kiss, Ms. Patient?" Huis question took you by surprise.
"No. Why? Would you give it to me?" It was a joke. Or at least most of it was.
"If I say yes, would you let me?"
One look and he knew it was a yes. Gently, slowly, but with no hesitation, he leaned towards you with eyes closed. You did the same.
And for a second time since you met him, you had missed the view of a beautiful sunset; because the person standing next to you was much more beautiful than any sunset could ever be.
Being a doctor, Sakusa couldn't always be around but he came by to hang out with you every chance he got. He barely even got to go to the on call rooms because when he needed rest, he would come to your room. Neither of you established your relationship despite the kiss but safe to say that he snuck in kisses whenever he'd pass by your room. The nurses even started teasing you about your relationship with the handsome, new doctor. Frankly, you had kept what happened a secret from Komori and Aimi. You weren't allowed to visit aimi yet since only family members were allowed to but komori had access to her so he went there regularly to come talk to her and fill her up on stories and entertain her. You were pretty sure though that he had some sort of idea that something was going on between you and his cousin.
"If you're dating my cousin, just say that"
"And where would we be going on dates? In my room? On the way to get a CAT scan?"
"No but maybe the rooftop?"
Your cheeks turned red at the thought of Komori knowing what had happened.
"Look at this 25 year old fully grown, adult woman blushing at the memory of a kiss"
"How did you know?!"
"Squeezed it out of Kiyoomi. Don't you think I see you two going out every time he had a second to spare? He even started asking for permission from Dr. Sato himself to hide it from me."
"I really didn't mean to, you know?"
"What's wrong with dating him? Why do you sound so guilty?"
"Well for starters, I have a fucking timer on my head"
"Stop it with the death timer. You can never be sure about that"
"Toya, I have two years at most. I really don't wanna be dragging kiyoomi into my life like that"
You found it ironic that Komori, being the doctor, was the one so reluctant to talk about your condition outside his work hours. He was the one most aware of it aside from Dr. Sato but he never talked about it with you if he didn't have to. It's a surprise he's still allowed to be on your case at this point as doctors weren't advised to treat patients whom they are emotionally attached to.
"Don't want to drag me into what?"
You failed to see Sakusa enter the room as Komori was blocking your view of the door
"Your girlfriend doesn't want you to date her because she thinks she's on a timer"
"I really don't care. I just want to do my best to keep her emotions in check" He made his way to you and kissed your forehead before sitting on the end of your bed, lifting your feet, putting them on his lap and giving you a foot massage.
"God, you're in the honeymoon phase. It's always the virgins who're so touchy too" Komori joked, returning to his original, light hearted demeanor "I'm leaving you two now, goodbye". He stormed off.
"No way in hell you're a virgin, Kiyoomi? With that face??? And that brain??"
He blushed immensely.
"Wait... are you actually?"
"Yes" He whispered
"FOR REAL?"
“Stop looking so amused about it”
“Okay okay, I’m sorry” you said with a soft chuckle
You ended up staring at Sakusa’s face, caressing his cheek before he dipped his head to give you a chaste kiss on the lips. A kiss that was cut short because of the door slamming open to reveal a shocked Komori,.
“Seriously?? I leave for five minutes and you’re already making out?”
“It was just a kiss!” you retort
“Whatever you say. Anyway, Kiyoomi, sorry to ruin your fun but Dr. Sato is calling for you. We have a new patient. Six Years old, we need a pedia on board the case”
“Alright. yn, I’ll come by whenever I can, okay?”
You nodded, watching the two leave your room to attend to another patient. And just as they both disappeared from your sight, you felt a sharp pain in your head. The surroundings started to look distorted, a warm sensation making its way through your sinuses, droplets of blood dripping onto your lap from your nose. The last thing you remembered was pressing the nurse call button before everything turned pitch black.
Bright. It was bright and you couldn’t open your eyes because of it. You started moving your limbs, trying to sit up but you felt too weak to do so. Once your vision adjusted to the lighting, you were met with your mother, with her head on your bedside, sleeping, holding your hand. She must have left work seeing as she was still wearing her corporate attire.
“Yn, sweetie, are you up? How are you feeling? Are you alright? I’m sorry I wasn’t around much lately. I’m sorry, I’m here now”
“mom,. what happened?”
“you passed out this afternoon. They had to give you a blood transfusion but now it’s fine, you’re okay now baby”
Still being a little dizzy and all, you chose to let your head rest easy on the pillow and return to sleep. You had such a good sleep that you didn’t even get to bid your mom farewell when she left. She felt bad about waking you so she simply placed a kiss on your forehead and left quietly.
The next time you opened your eyes, you saw Kiyoomi standing by the door frame.
“You up?” he asked
“mhm, how long have you been there?”
“Just a little while” he talked while walking towards you, giving you a hug before removing his white coat and taking a seat on the couch placed beside your bed.
“Don’t you have work, omi?”
“omi? you got me a little nickname?” his words accompanied by a smirk
“I- if you don’t like it, I can stop”
“no no, it’s cute, call me omi from now on. So? How are your emotions today?”
“I’m... okay. I’m just physically tired”
“Then I’ll let you get more rest, sleep well, alright?” he stood up to leave
“no omi, stay. If you’re not busy, stay here”
“okay”
he walked back to you, making himself fit as best he could in the space beside you on the hospital bed. He wrapped you in his embrace, your face buried into his chest.
“Hey omi”
“What?”
“Remember when we went to the rooftop and you promised you’d be the one to hand out my letters and all that?”
“Yes. Why?”
“If anything happens to me, all the letters are in a box under my bed”
“Then tell me now?”
“huh? tell you what?”
“didn’t you promise that you’d tell me your message in person?”
Instead of speaking words, you hugged him even tighter, nudging your face closer to his chest, taking in his scent, the feel of his arms wrapped around you, enveloping your fragile body. You refused to speak. For the first time, refused to acknowledge the fact that you were on the brink of dying. You had always accepted that it wasn’t going to be long ‘til you finally disappeared from this world. It was bittersweet to you. As much as you loved living, the constant physical, emotional, and mental pain from your situation was something you’d gladly let go of and just hope that you’d be good and healthy in the next life.
But now you’d whole heartedly take every needle, swallow every pill, endure each and every one of the aches in your body if that meant you could be with Kiyoomi longer. Someone who let himself love you despite knowing that there would be no happy ending to this story.
“I love you kiyoomi”
It was the only message he needed.
“Kiyoomi, are you really not going?”
“No, I.. I’m staying here”
“Okay”
“Motoya” sakusa called before komori could leave the room
“Here” he handed him four envelopes, each with a handwritten name assigned. Mom . Dad . Toya . Aimi
“What’s this?”
“They’re letters. From yn.” Komori’s eyes started getting teary but he held it in, took the envelopes, gave his cousin a hug before finally taking his leave.
He couldn’t believe how only a little over a year has passed since he met you.
Sakusa refused to attend your funeral. He couldn’t watch you being lowered into the ground, he couldn’t look at you, lifeless. Minutes of just sitting on what used to be your bed, sakusa rummaged more into the box you had left. He couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at what he had found. The paper bag of the crepe he brought for you.. The Lollipop he gave you when you saw him for the first time. And an enevelope with his name on it?
“ To my dearest, omi. My emotional Support Doctor! :) I know you said no letters but I’m really not brave enough to tell you these words face to face. When I promised to tell you everything in person, I didn’t know that I would end up loving you as much as I did in this life time. Heck, you even made me want to live more. You made me want to get better everyday. Thank you for buying me crepes and bringing me books. Thank you for the lollipop. Thank you for giving me my first kiss and for being my first and only love.
Know that I will always love you, more than you’ll ever know. I’m sorry I was selfish. I knew how this would end and yet I let myself love you without a care in the world. But more than guilt, I feel gratitude. Because you let me love you and because you did the same. I’m not sorry that it couldn’t be us in the end. My life was always going to lead to this and you somehow managed to make yourself the highlight of it. My story ends with you and me. But don’t let yourself end up there too. Find a new love that can last you a lifetime. You’ve given me so much happiness and support and I want you to be happy too. You deserve to love and be loved again.
Thank you for guarding my emotions all the while. Thank you for being brave again today too, my love.
- y/n”
#sakusa#sakusa x reader#sakusa x you#sakusa angst#sakusa kiyoomi#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#sakusa imagines#sakusa scenarios#sakusa kiyoomi x reader
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makeste hELP I've been rereading some old chapters and, if you don't mind, could you please describe the difference krbk & bkdk? It's just UGH, bkg is so SOFT with kiri at the dorm opening & in kiri's debut flashback and asdfghdkj I suddenly remember why I shipped those two so hard BUT. Current bkdk is CHEF'S KISS--Kacchan showing how much he cares abt Deku is yESSSS fINaLlY MY HEART. I know I can ship both but I'm reeaaally fixated on the difference. You can throw in kirimina too, if you want.
well first off just a quick reminder/disclaimer that that these are all just my own interpretations and opinions. also, I'm going to stick strictly to analyzing the relationships themselves, and we're not going to get into any discussion about the respective fandoms because I've always tried my best to stay the hell out of shipping drama, and I'm not about to change that up now lol. I can tell you right now that I like both ships and have met many awesome and amazing people who fall on all sides of the shipping spectrum in this case.
but anyway, so let's see. I will say that as far as fluffy/soft dynamics go, there's really not that much of a difference between the two imo. soft KiriBaku and soft BakuDeku are very similar dynamics. lots of mutual trust and open, enthusiastic support from Deku/Kiri coupled with more subtle, indirectly stated/shown (but still just as strong) support from Katsuki in return. also a ton of protectiveness from all involved parties, and strong feelings of being at home with each other and feeling at ease and able to be their most natural, best selves. it's good stuff no matter which ship you go with imo.
I think the bigger difference lies between angsty BakuDeku versus angsty KiriBaku. angsty KRBK, in my experience, tends to focus less on the angst of the relationship, and more on both Bakugou and Kirishima's self esteem issues. so for instance you'll get a lot of fics centered around Bakugou's trauma from being kidnapped and his guilt about All Might, or Kirishima's struggles with depression and self-doubt and his fear of freezing up and letting other people down. in my experience KRBK fics also tend to place more emphasis on portraying the dynamic as Healthy, which makes sense because Kirishima in particular has extremely progressive views on healthy masculine expression, and is very outspoken about them. so it makes perfect sense that so many fanworks depict that relationship as being defined by open communication and trust and support. Bakugou also seems to have an easier time letting his guard down around Kirishima than most other people, and seems to have less difficulty showing his kind side which he so rarely seems to want anybody else to see. that last thing is something he really struggles with around Deku even now, but with Kirishima it's always seemed to come naturally. so in a lot of ways even the "angsty" KRBK stuff has a bit of a lighter, more relaxed feel to it in that sense.
BakuDeku, on the other hand, is a relationship with a long and often painful history, and as such, BKDK fanworks are much more likely to focus on the abundant and prominent angst of the relationship itself (although there are still plenty of BKDK fics and such that explore Izuku and Katsuki's unrelated personal angst as well). to me this is a relationship that has always been defined by longing and uncertainty and a mutual desire to reach out, but at the same time an almost paralyzing fear of being rejected by the other. it's an extremely complicated dynamic, and one that has always been very confusing to the both of them, let alone to everyone else around them lol. it's a relationship where it seems like their emotions always seem to intensify more around each other. everything sort of becomes heightened. they become more competitive, more focused, and more driven. and on the flip side of the coin, their fears also seem to intensify. they're both fiercely protective of each other and spend a lot of time worrying about each other.
but where the confusion comes in is that unlike the KRBK relationship where communication usually comes so easily, Izuku and Katsuki absolutely suck at communicating lmao. Katsuki, of course, would rather die than wear his heart on his sleeve most of the time. and meanwhile Izuku seems like he's the more open of the two at first glance, but in actuality the few times that the two of them have opened up to each other about their feelings, it's been Kacchan who initiated it, every single time. so yeah; basically they struggle a lot with figuring out what they mean to each other, and even more with actually communicating those feelings. and yet paradoxically, there is also a mutual understanding and trust and knowing between them that runs so deep that it's basically unwavering and untouchable. they have so much faith in each other when it comes to pretty much everything -- except their own relationship, lol.
so yeah, there's a lot of angst inherent to most BKDK content that KRBK content lacks simply because their relationship doesn't have all of that history and baggage between them. and meanwhile BKDK angst often lacks the therapeutic factor that so many KRBK works have, because Bakugou and Deku just can't communicate with that kind of ease yet. so a lot of it really just boils down to personal preference at the end of the day I think. for me I personally find both dynamics very appealing, and I read a lot of both. BKDK does have an edge for me just because of the sheer complexity of that relationship (which is one reason I write so many essays about it, because there's just an endless array of things to analyze, and it never ceases to hold my interest), and also because there's a little more of an "I'm rooting so hard for these two crazy kids" feeling just because there's so much that they've overcome, and they both so clearly want to restore what they once had (Deku's joy at "being able to have a normalish conversation" with Kacchan, versus Kacchan's subtle regret in so many of his recent interactions with Deku, and openly portrayed on the cover for volume 29). but KRBK is such an important and wholesome relationship as well, and almost liberating in how it's unencumbered by past history and sort of a fresh start/new beginning in that sense. so yeah, by no means am I putting that down in any way. again, since the two fandoms have a history of being at each other's throats, I just want to make it absolutely clear that my having a preference for one does not in any way mean I consider it to be superior or the other inferior. and it especially doesn't mean I'm gonna judge someone else for liking one or the other, or both, or neither.
but anyways yeah. as for KiriMina, which I think is very cute/sweet in the series but admittedly haven't sought out much content for outside of that (mainly because I have a horrible Kacchan bias), so I can't really say much about it meta-wise. but I imagine it would probably feel like KRBK minus the tsundere Kacchan stuff, and with the additional variable of them knowing each other since middle school and Mina having that knowledge of Kirishima's personal struggles, and him having that longstanding admiration for her natural hero instincts and ability to put people at ease. I think it's a great dynamic as well. also Mina is just fucking fantastic and fandom doesn't give her nearly as much love and appreciation as she deserves. she's the best and I really hope Horikoshi gives her some more screentime in the final act, especially since she's been through a lot recently (and actually that's something to consider in the KiriMina dynamic as well. no shortage of angst potential in all three of these ships).
anyway, so I think that's pretty much everything I can think of as far as answering your question! thanks for the ask!
#bnha meta#bakudeku#kiribaku#kirimina#bkdk#krbk#no idea what the kirimina abbreviation is lol#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#asks#anon asks#long post
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homestretch of the hard times | g.t.
summary: the eve days of your potential death kinda spurns things to move forward: for takemura, it means confessions. for you, it means making exceptions. and drinks. ‘cause takemura’s the pickiest fucking eater you’ve ever met.
WARNINGS: small spoilers for act 1 of cyberpunk 2077 and references to non-spoiler texts between takemura and v, just fluff, small angst, swearing, idk what else is going on so if there are actual spoilers thats completely coincedental ndlnskfsldnf
pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v
word count: 2.6k
a/n: so cdpr did us dirty for not allowing us to romance him (to my knowledge) but he has my mind, heart and everything else so :) listened to the bones by maren morris w/ hozier
part of the tales of a two-bit thief series
It starts with something straight out of a romance movie: A car crash, saving each other’s lives (well, him more than you) and “Wait, V, I need you.”
You don’t know how you got here, to be precise. There were a chain of events, some absolutely stand up fucking moments on your part, and just… fuckery. So much fuckery and life went to shit.
All you know is the ticking time bomb’s only ticking louder and at this point, the only thing that can silence it at all is the man beside you. Not even the meds Misty gave you can help you now.
You’re sitting in his car because you called him and he had answered and now… now they’re on one of the off ramps looking over Night City like they own the fucking place.
Maybe you did, once. Ha, maybe back when everything seemed more job to job and not life to life. For a moment, maybe you were in the big leagues.
Takemura doesn’t say anything, even though you can tell he wants to. His hair still pulled into that man bun, collared shirt with not a single wrinkle in sight. Weird how he never looks out of place, not really. Not even with the car crash. Shit, he always looked good.
You think you’re actually gonna miss that. That one semblance of someone being put together that gave you the hope that maybe you could stick it too.
You think you’re gonna miss a lot of things about him—from his stupid complaints about the food here, to his stupid random philosophy texts in the day, to the fact that he eats the ramen you buy anyway without complaint, even though it’ll never compare to what he has in Japan.
The thought that counts.
They don’t even have the radio on, just the dim lights of the car, a window rolled down. You don’t smoke but you feel like you should be tapping a cig either way. You haven’t had the time to just fucking breathe—not with Silverhand breathing down your neck, corpo rats swarming you on all sides.
Everyone wants a piece of you, it feels like.
You look at Takemura.
Almost everyone.
“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, with difficulty. It’s hard to get through your words without thinking Silverhand’s behind your back, mocking you. You’re so fucking tired. “It hasn’t been easy.”
He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at one of the cars nearly collide with a pedestrian. You could’ve laughed. You used to make fun of the shitty drivers in Night City, knowing full well you’re one of them.
You get chased by a couple of cops, rules start to bend.
You used to wonder why you never left.
Then, you actually left, and you realized that hell, you can take the person out of Night City—can’t take the Night City out of a person.
Atlanta fucking sucked, but maybe you should’ve stayed there.
But then, a tiny voice whispers as you look out the window to the fresh night wind. You never would’ve met him.
It’s funny, you think. To come back and get a brain tumour in the shape of a rocker who can’t fucking touch anyone who loves him, who he loved, only for you to fall in love with a corpo you can’t fucking touch at all because… because there is no time left. It just isn’t fair.
“I used to be a corpo kid,” you confess, looking at him with a wry smile again. That catches his attention. He looks at you with those eyes that scrutinize you, interrogate you, peel you apart to your bare essentials and you have to look away before you can’t control your face anymore. God fucking damn it. “Not when it mattered, obviously, but… I remember what it was like. Grew up hating every single on of them.”
“Your parents were Arasaka?”
“Mhm. Security division.” It’s like your eyes are magnetic to his because when you blink, you find yourself regarding him again. Your fingers play at your lips. “Counterintelligence. I was supposed to go into that, too. Big dreams.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, then my parents were tried for treason and murdered, so I got thrown out. That’s it.” Your hand falls away. You pick at the chipped nail polish on your thumb. “Never told anyone that. ‘Cept…” Jackie. Well, he’s fucking dead, now. “‘Cept you, now, I guess. Guess some corpos aren’t so bad.”
The corner of his mouth pinches up like he’s flattered and you can’t help the pleased warmth spreading through your chest.
“Should I be honoured I am one of the few exceptions you have made?”
“Well, I don’t make exceptions often, so…” You grin slyly. He looks away just as you catch a flash of his smile growing. It’s a nice smile. You wish you saw it more often before the end of the road. Maybe it’s one of the regrets you have, too. “Yeah, maybe you should feel special.”
“Hm.”
“C’mon, Takemura. Humour the walking dead, yeah?” You stretch against the leather of his car seat with a pleased sound. “I’m spending what time I have left with who I want to. Can’t ask for much better than that.” A quiet hangs in the air as you melt against the black leather and you look at Takemura who’s staring at the wheel with an intensity you don’t often see. It makes your gut squirm.
“And I? I am one of those people?”
You lean on one hip and look at him, bending a knee and resting an ankle on your thigh. He looks at you with an uncertainty—an uncertainty you’re sure echoes in your eyes.
It was business, then it wasn’t. Maybe it never was.
“Yeah. You’re one of the few on the short list.”
“Exceptions again.”
You laugh. “Yeah. You’re an exception to most things, I think. Weird, that.”
“How so?”
“Ah, I don’t know. I’ve had family—still do, ones that matter, you know. Just… no one ever like you, Takemura. Drives me crazy.”
“The feeling is mutual. Your mocking brings you onto thin ice, V.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel. The engine’s off so it seems more fidgety than anything. Weird. You never noticed he fidgeted before. Maybe he’s nervous?
About what?
“I must ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“If you have a future, what do you see for yourself?”
Your eyebrows shoot up. You frown and pick at your flecking nail polish even more, looking at your hand and focusing more on that so you don’t have to answer your question. His eyes burn into you and you swallow, trying not to act like you haven’t thought, in regret, at night, about a hundred million fucking times the possibilities they could’ve had together.
You’re not about to say all that.
Instead: “Settling down with the family. Mama Welles, people at the Coyote.” You blatantly don’t look at him when you add, “Others. This has been enough action for a lifetime.” You rest your hands on your lap and chance a glimpse at him. He’s looking away from you, out the window on his side, and you shift in your seat. “How about you? You must’ve… had dreams. Before all this shit went down. You make it out of here and then what?”
When he looks at you, your heart nearly cracks at the sadness in his eyes. He smiles, but there is no strength, and his eyes are darker than the night surrounding them.
“I would go to the countryside, just as I’ve always wanted. Leave this, all of this, behind. Rural Japan is beautiful, so a small town would suffice where everyone knows everyone. We do favours for one another. It is community. Nothing like here.” His lips pull into a tiny frown. “When I was a younger man, I wanted a daughter,” is all he says. “I believe I could have been a great father, so perhaps… perhaps one day.”
“A daughter? Not a son?” you ask curiously, and he almost chuckles. You can’t help the faint smile on your face.
“If my daughter grew up anything like her mother,” he explains with a slight glance towards you, “I would have more hope than a son who was like me.”
You frown. “You’re not a bad man, Takemura. Any son like you—with your code of honour, your shitty selfie skills—no one’s gotta a chance.”
He merely scoffs in response. Again, with the you mocking him. It’s a wonder he lets you.
“But really, that sounds… nice. A daughter, a wife.” You drum your fingers against your knee and his eyes dart to yours, click like they were always destined to meet, and your lips part. Words stall on your tongue and you want to speak but in the dim lights, you are lost in the darkness of his eyes. Something comes, something goes, and you barely croak out, “Whoever marries you will have to deal with so much of your shit that the kids have to turn out alright. The complaining, for one. Picky eater for another.”
This time, he does chuckle and you swallow a breath at the sound. “Dealing with it comes with practice, V.”
“Is that so?”
“Shouldn’t you know?”
“I—“ For once, no funny retort, no witty quip shoots out of your mouth, and you realize that there is an implication—an intricate dance where they’re struggling not to step on each other’s toes and nearly failing at every turn, yet somehow, it works because they’re dancing, and it’s quiet, and it’s… it’s peaceful.
Shit, you’re getting a load of this. When’d you become a poet?
“I guess I should know,” you finally say. “Never understood why I got so giddy whenever I saw your texts, you know, seein’ your name flash on my phone.” You laugh bitterly. “Guess I know why, now.” He’s silent and you don’t look at him. You look at the dashboard where you’ve kicked your feet up a dozen times, the glove compartment that still has your sunglasses inside.
Shit.
“Thank you for everything. Shit’s a little… more bearable, I guess. When you’re around, that is.” The words come out stilted, awkward, but your heart is so heavy in your throat you feel like you’re going to choke. You look into your lap, your whole body incinerating under what you’re sure is the most judgemental glare of your life and you just hope to fucking God this man says something, does something.
Holy shit. You’re going to die of embarrassment. Didn’t even think that was possible.
Then, a loud sigh. A sigh you’ve heard often enough beside you right before a gunfight or when he has to eat the food you ordered for him or even the nights when they’re exhausted, bruised, and just plain tired right before going to sleep where they lay on the floor.
It’s exasperated, a how on earth did we get here, a very annoyed again, you’re so fucking stupid, and you’re still running through your list on what this particular sigh can mean before a hand gently takes hold of yours. Your eyes dart to his, blinking and he stares at you like you’ve just stabbed him. Your heart is fucking racing in your chest, pounding like thunder. His fingers fold over and you realize, as you interlace fingers, that his skin is burning at your touch.
Or maybe, it’s the other way around.
They sit there in silence, not looking at one another, looking out windows, parts of the car, everything but each other, and when he squeezes your hand, you close your eyes and swallow your heart.
It’s over.
“V,” he murmurs, voice so deathly quiet and raspy in your ears that your gut clenches. You turn to watch him. “Tell me that you will not stop fighting.” You swallow your breath as his eyes flicker from your own to your parted lips. He inhales quietly and you swear you can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingers in your grip. “That this is not all for nothing.”
“It isn’t.“
“Then I was right.” His eyes flutter back to your gaze and he tilts his head. Wisps of fine hair escaping his manbun brush over his nose and you reach up on your own accord, swiping it behind your ear. You lean over the console, your elbow digging into the leather and, tentatively, you trail your fingers down his jaw, hold his face in your hand. “I am… what is that phrase you use so often?”
“SNAFU?”
“No.”
“Assblasted.”
“No.”
“Royally fucked?”
“We need to expand your vocabulary.” You smile nefariously as his other hand reaches for your chin. He pinches it lightly, thumb stretching up to brush over your lips and your face freezes at his touch. “But yes. Royally fucked. I wasn’t wrong when I said I needed you.”
“I think that meant a whole something else back then,” you whisper rawly and he smiles sombrely. His thumb leaves your mouth to brush your cheek, his eyes fixing on you as if he’s trying to memorize aspects of your face: the arch of your nose, the bow of your smile, the way your brow wrinkles. “Meant more business-like.”
“I did. And now, I believe the terms have changed.” He arches an eyebrow. “Are we at a mutual understanding, V?”
“Yes.” And I hate that we are. Your hand along his jaw lifts to wrap around his wrist. “Consider that feeling mutual, yeah? It goes both ways.”
“I will.” Another small smile graces his lips. It makes him look younger every time and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand.
“Do you wanna grab something to eat before you drive me back home for some shuteye?”
“The choices here are atrocious, V.”
“Then, drinks,” you propose, letting go of his wrist. He lets go of your chin, and turning to face the front, you kick up your feet on his dash. He stares at you for a moment then sighs because there really isn’t anything he can do about it. Nor, do you think, he wants to. You squeeze his hand and send him a silly smile. “How about drinks? I wasn’t hungry anyway.”
“Are you paying?”
You eye him incredulously. “Who do you take me for? You?”
He snorts and the engine roars to life with a flick of his wrist. He grabs the wheel dominantly and you swallow at the way his fingers wrap around the handle. “The Afterlife, then?”
“Or, we could make it rustic.” You pull his hand into your lap playfully and run a thumb over his knuckles. His eyes flit over and you send him a smirk. “I know Mama Welles doesn’t like you, but the Coyote’s serving cheap. Happen to like me there.” He begins to pull out of their little overhang and he nudges their joined hands into your abdomen, silently telling you to buckle in. Rolling your eyes, you mumble out a ‘boomer’ underneath your breath before letting go of him and following orders.
He settles a hand on your thigh and squeezes. You hang an arm out the window.
The wind’s running through the car, he has the radio on low, and they’re easing through onto the highway.
Your chest is lighter than a feather, mind’s quieter than a ghost.
You’ve seen scarier deaths, dealt a lot more. You know that silence is a bigger killer than most bullets.
But here you are now…
“I’m changing this,” Takemura says. “This music is terrible.”
…Shit, maybe life isn’t so bad, ending the way it is.
#takemura#takemura x reader#takemura x you#takemura x v#takemura imagine#takemura imagines#goro takemura#goro takemura x reader#goro takemura x you#goro takemura x v#goro takemura imagine#goro takemura imagines#cyberpunk 2077#cyberpunk 2077 fic#cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction#cyberpunk 2077 imagine#cyberpunk 2077 x reader#cyberpunk 2077 x v#my writing#fic: tales of a two bit thief
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Martyr
pairing: levi x reader I nsfw
word count: 5729
summary: after a long day and lots of tension, levi takes care of you and fucks you into your dilirium
warnings: choking (i mean like you get no air at all), rough sex, dirtytalk, swearing, sub x dom
authors note: ok, i'm absolutely not satisfied with the fanfic, but i've been sitting on it for way too long and i have to get it out now, because i can't work on anything else. the next one will be better, i promise.
all credits to the artist of this pic
i hope that's right
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"They're miserable" Oluo says to you and wrinkles his nose. You look at Marco Bott in front of you, hanging in the ropes of the ODM gear and trying with all his might to keep his balance.
A gust of air swirls individual leaves around you, causing a few strands of your hair to fall into your face. The ropes of the ODM gear blow back and forth slightly and this small movement completely throws Bott off balance. You can see the effort and sweat beading on his face, he clenches his teeth tightly before panic overcomes him. His body can't find balance and he starts to row his arms, but it's too late. He topples over backwards and with a dull thud his head hits the stone floor. "Pathetic," you mutter, grabbing your forehead with your hand. Actually, such an impact shouldn't even happen, but judging by the appearance, since Bott slipped out of the leather straps, he hadn't fastened them properly. "The students are a disaster," Oluo says in your direction, and you nod slightly at him.
"Okay, Bott, out of the harnesses! Arlert, you're up next!" he shouts to the other group members, then runs to Marco to help him out of his predicament.
Your eyes roam over the other groups and their contraptions. Oluo was right with his statement. It's been a long time since you've seen such a pile of work. There are individual exceptions like Mikasa Ackerman or Annie Leonhardt, but as mentioned before, these are only exceptions. The rest are doing just as poorly as Bott. A long sigh escapes you.
"They are a bunch of shit.” Your hackles stand up and a cold shiver runs down your spine. The goosebumps start at your shoulders and then spread down your arms. Your heart seems to skip a beat.
"Yes, they are, Captain." Oluo stands next to you again and your captain joins in as well. Out of the corner of your eye, you look to your left at Levi, who looks straight ahead with his arms folded in front of his chest.
"Oi, Arlert, you're a disgrace to our troop. Get a grip."
"Yes, sir," Armin shouts back, but you can see the uncertainty Levi's words bring and his whole-body tenses. He also loses his balance, his body swings backwards and he hangs upside down in the ropes, like Marco Bott before - at least he doesn't hit his head.
"What did I tell you!!! Tighten the center!" roars Oluo, stomping his feet as he makes his way to Arlert.
A breeze comes up again, stronger this time, and the cadets have great difficulty keeping their balance. In fact, everyone sails back, except, to your surprise, Connie Springer, who is cheered on by the rest of his group. You pull your jacket tighter around you, hoping it would catch some of the spring wind, but you shiver anyway.
"Your jaw is tight," Levi's deep voice says beside you, and you turn your gaze to him in surprise. His grey eyes look down at you from above and you swallow hard. He's such a handsome man. His shoulders show well through his uniform and his shirt tightens a bit at his chest due to his muscles. His eyes sparkle slightly from the sun shining on his face. The wind has spread some hair on his forehead and your fingertips start to tickle. How you would like to brush them away. You clench your hands into fists to stop yourself.
"Didn't even realize it," you reply, turning your gaze back to Oluo and Arlert to stay calm. Your heart drums a little in your chest. Your comrade is trying his best to help him and give him instructions and assistance.
"To be honest, your whole body is tense". You feel Levi's calm gaze still resting on you and you put your head back and stare at the sky. A few clouds drift across the sky, white and fluffy.
"It's been a busy day, too." Your eyes shift back to him and you both look into each other's eyes. His grey eyes seem almost a bright silver. He studies you more closely and the corners of his mouth lift up ever so slightly. "Understandable, with this bunch of idiots." You roll your eyes and have to grin slightly before sighing again. It was admittedly leaching to complete the first training sessions with new cadets. They are all so full of anticipation before harsh reality catches up with them and about a third of all are sent back home - if they still have a home after Wall Maria was breached and Shiganshina District had to be left.
Of course, it was little different for you back then, but you performed solidly right from the start and made it to the top 3 of all graduates after hard training. That was also the reason why Levi included you in his squad.
Nonetheless, you just got annoyed and wanted a break from all the frustration and instruction you had to give. Being a teacher is not the reason you joined the Survey Corps.
Levi is just opening his mouth to say something when Petra's loud voice echoes across the square.
"Captain, I need your help." Over Levi's shoulder, you can see her, hands flailing in the air. Levi clicks his tongue and his expression changes, becomes slightly annoyed. You do the same. He leans over to you, his head right next to yours. His strong scent of black tea and citrus rises to your nose and your knees go weak. His hot breath hits the shell of your ear and goosebumps cover your body again. "I'll make you feel better later." Your heart starts beating faster and a deep blush settles over your cheeks. You hold your breath as he turns and walks with strong strides back to his spot by Petra, the Wings of Freedom emblazoned large on his back.
"Tch, I haven't seen a fucking weakling like that in a long time, Yaeger," you hear him shout further back. Again, a slight grin comes over you.
"Ma'am, can you help me with the straps?" calls Christa Renz over to you. She snaps you out of your thoughts and you come back to yourself. You expel your long-held breath and make your way over to her.
The rest of the training was like chewing gum compared to before. The remaining part of your group wasn't a total bust, but Levi's words left a sweet note and butterflies in your stomach. Your whole body tingled with joy and the scenarios in your head took their own course. Every now and then your gaze swung to Levi, even as you have pulled yourself together, but the temptation was far too great. And then when he caught your gaze, you could see the change in him even across the distance. At one point you even thought he winked at you, which was the most uncharacteristic thing ever for him, but just the pure thought that you were right made your knees weak again. For this reason, you were more concerned with your students, who were not very happy about it. You had the reputation of being almost as strict as Levi - but with less insults - and that although your size made you look more like a dwarf. At the end of the training, the Levi Squad then condemned the worst to clean up the mess. The sun was lower by now, it was late afternoon and the wind was blowing stronger. You walked together as a group back to the large building and followed the cadets to the mess hall.
As usual, you took your food first before the rest could strike, which you were more than happy about. At least on days when there was meat, it was always an advantage for everything and everyone to fill their plates before Sasha Blouse. Her love for food was immeasurable. After her, there wasn't that much left for others to lead and sharing was out of the question for her. You plod along behind Eld with your full plate and settle into the seat next to him and Oluo.
"What a day, huh guys?" groans Petra, sliding onto the bench across from you, followed by Gunther and then Levi, who grabs the seat across from yours.
You stare at the potatoes, meat and bread in front of you and start eating, almost burning yourself.
The others do the same, while Levi drinks his tea and lets his gaze roam the room to observe the other cadets.
"There, you say something. I wonder when it's going to be expedition time again. Time to kill some titans again, isn't it?" grins Oluo next to you, poking you in the side. You give him a dry look. "You mean so I can do all the work again and you can rest?" Oluo blushes slightly, whether from anger or shame, and slashes at the table with his knife in his right hand.
"I was here long before you even got around to it, kid".
"That makes your 39 kills all the sadder," you mock, and the others stifle their laughter.
Oluo contorts his face and is about to open his mouth when Eld slaps him on the back, "Oh Oluo, I can still remember when you wet yourself on your first expedition."
The blow startles Oluo slightly and he yelps in pain. He slaps his hand over his mouth and contorts his face. "I bit my tongue," he mumbles, which really makes the others laugh now. You, on the other hand, just roll your eyes again and are pleased inwardly.
No matter how much you get on each other's nerves sometimes, you are a family that always stands up for each other. Most of the happy moments you can still remember were spent with this group. Each had its strengths and weaknesses, which in turn compensated for another. Your gaze falls on each of them as they still laugh and Oluo still complains before you look at Levi.
Again, your breath catches slightly. His gaze pierces you and holds you spellbound. He looks at you as he slowly eats. A shiver runs down your spine again and you press your legs together. His gaze is intense and deep, going straight to your soul. His silver eyes are darker and possessive. No one at the table seems to notice what's happening, as Levi has always been good at hiding your personal moments. It's a mystery to you how he did it since you always felt caught and like your body didn't really belong to you. He was the one thing that always upset you and left you breathless. You smile slightly at him and his gaze darkens even more, making you swallow.
"Captain, how about a little break for us tonight? We could all sit down together for a bit and have a little drink," Petra catches your attention. She blushes slightly and you have to suppress the gagging. Never, never, would Levi ever feel anything for Petra. Everyone liked her, including him and yourself, of course, but not in that way. They were much too different for that and didn't have the same goals. But you had already noticed how Petra looked at Levi and blushed and bit her lip and stroked through her hair and smiled and laughed extra and positioned herself well and always stood next to him, sat down, tried to work with him, always addressed him directly, took him in protection. You were never jealous because Levi never gave you a reason to be, but Petra made it really hard for you sometimes. Especially since no one, except Hange, of course, knew about how things were between Levi and you.
"Oi, your hand," Gunther says, touching it. You recoil and realize how your hand hurts. You clutch your knife tightly, your knuckles white. Everyone is looking at you. You let go of it and it falls to the table before you mumble a quiet apology and continue eating. Speaking of which, you were bad at hiding your feelings for Levi. The others let go of you and turn their attention back to Petra and Levi.
"Tch, do what you want, I still have workto do". Petra looks slightly disappointed and starts eating again. The rest of the meal was quieter as everyone was busy filling their bellies. Eld and Gunther are the first to leave before Levi raises his voice. "Oi, Petra, take my dishes away as soon as you finished". The girl seems hopeful for a brief moment before Levi smashes her hopes. He looks at you and your almost empty plates. "... And the other one here too".
With these words he straightens up. You look up at him. "Would you help me just now?" His eyes show a sparkle again and your gaze falls on Petra and Oluo for a brief moment before you nod. With those words, he trots off. You quickly get up, say goodbye, and walk after him. Your path past the cadets is quiet and the murmuring around you also quiets, which always happened when Levi was around. No one would dare to accidentally say something that might upset him. Levi headed for the stone stairs in the hallway, down the long hallway to the door of his office. A few torches flicker on the wall, lighting your way, even with the sun still providing more than enough light from outside. All the while, you follow him quietly until he unlocks the door and both of you step inside.
You close the door behind you with a soft click and turn around. Levi is standing in front of you with his arms folded in front of his chest. He leans slightly against his desk and examines you from top to bottom. The evening sun shines through the window behind him and strong shadows stand out on his face. "How are you?" You bite your lower lip and swallow hard. "Pretty good, I guess," you say and avert your gaze, looking down at the ground. You continue to feel his gaze and you blush slightly. Your breathing gets a little heavier and you swallow again. The tension in this room is heavy and oppressive. The energy between you is crackling and the hairs on your arms are standing up. It is amazing how different Levi could behave. Toward everyone else on the planet, he was an ass, no question about it. But to you, he treated you like you were a flower that would wilt if he didn't take proper care of it. You bite your lower lip. Levi's footsteps come toward you until he's standing right in front of you and you can look at his shoes. He puts a finger under your chin and lifts your face. His eyes are impenetrable, and he can probably read you again like one of his books.
"You know better than to bite your lip," he whispers to you. He places his left hand against the door behind you and leans against you. His eyes pull you in before you close them and feel his lips on yours. In the background, you hear him turn the key in the lock, locking you in this room. His teeth graze over your bottom lip and he captures it, sucking on it before releasing it. "I'll do that for you, won't I?" A low moan escapes you and you open your eyes again. He was even closer to you, your noses almost grazing each other, and his hot breathing and warmth befuddle you.
"Remember what I promised you earlier?" You nod and lick your lips. His gaze immediately darts to that movement before he looks into your soul again. "Repeat it."
"You promised me that you would make me feel better".
A slight smile curls his lips and he takes your face in his right hand. You nestle into it and your heart flutters.
"So, do you still want this?" What a question, you think and nod slightly, kissing the inside palm of his hand and staring at him. Please make me feel good. Again, he has to smirk slightly and presses a feather-light kiss to your forehead before stepping away from you, taking his warmth with him. He steps back to his desk and resumes his previous posture there. His face and body tension are harder and his eyes seem much darker than before.
"Take off your clothes," comes his instruction. His voice is also low and hard. You look at him a little unsettled and surprised before you start undoing the buttons of your blouse. His gaze follows your movements and he tilts his head slightly. You kick your shoes aside. The removal of your pants in particular seems to fascinate him, and you swear you saw a sparkle in his eyes as your bra and panties follow the other garments as well. So, you stand in front of him, shivering slightly from the temperature difference, causing your nipples to poke hard at him and your skin to be covered in goosebumps again. He licks his lips and takes off his jacket, placing it on his desk behind him. He undoes the straps that wrap around his torso and sets them aside as well.
"Kneel down." You do as you were told and kneel on the cold wooden floor. This causes the cold to shoot more strongly through your body and you shake yourself slightly. Levi is still watching you and slowly lets his gaze roam over you. After your next blink, he rises and steps to the other side of his desk, which faces his window. He opens the first drawer on the left and pulls out something. After closing it, he comes back to your side and slowly steps towards you. You are a little surprised at what he just did since you can't see anything in his hands. He stops in front of you and looks down. You follow his hands, which reach for the buttons of his shirt, which he then slowly opens bit by bit. His gaze stares at you again, while he moves as if in slow motion. For you, it was all much too slow and with each button your heart beat a beat faster again. If it were up to you, you would have torn it from his body so that the buttons would fly across the room. But your hands remain still in your lap as you wait for each button. Finally arriving at the last one, he undoes it as well before slipping his shirt off his torso. His shoulders and arms work as he does so, and your knees soften. You love his body, he's a god. With all the years of training and fighting experience, it goes without saying that he is trained, but his cross and arms especially make your heart weak. You don't know what that is because of, but it's just a preference of yours on him. One of the many you have to mention about it. And you love every single scar from his skin you've run along them so many times with your lips and fingers. Slowly your temperature changes. Your body becomes warm and you notice how your center becomes moist. He reaches into his right pants pocket and pulls out a long piece of rope. Your breath catches and your eyes widen. Levi still just looks at you and plays with it a bit, tightens it and let’s go again. As he does, the muscles under his skin play again, looking indescribable with the setting sun in the background. Veins come out from under his skin and you pull your eyebrows together in frustration. He shines like a saint that you love to cling to so that he can keep all the evil in the world away from you.
"Hands behind your back." Immediately you do as he said and follow him as long as you can with your gaze as he walks around you and then kneels behind you. His fingers are warm as they graze your skin and he ties the rope around your wrists to join your two hands together. After he's done, he runs his hands up your arms, touching the haunches above your collarbones for seconds before pulling his hands away again.
"Close your eyes," he whispers in your right ear. The last thing you see before your eyes flutter shut are the last rays of the sun, which bathe the room in a deep orange-red. You feel something being placed over your eyes. Levi ties the piece of cloth to the back of your head and then rises. As soon as you realize he's done, your eyes open briefly, only to see deep black. Butterflies spread through your lower stomach and you press your lips together to stifle a moan. With excitement and anticipation, you feel more wetness between your legs and squirm slightly to create some pressure, but to no avail. Now without sight, you rely more on your ears and the sounds of the environment around you. Levi moves quietly around the room, you locate him at his desk and hear him light a match. The smell of smoke fills the room. When he seems to be finished, he moves back toward you. You hear the rattle of the buckles of his belts, which then fall to the floor with a sound. He loosens one strap after another until the sounds stop. You feel his presence in front of you and squeeze your legs together again. Fabric rustles before it's quiet again. Suddenly, a hand reaches into your hair and pulls your head almost painfully to the back of your neck. Air escapes your throat and you make a surprised sound.
"Open your mouth." Levi's voice seems even deeper than usual and hard, almost cold. You open it on command and stick out your tongue. You hear him smirk and feel one of his fingers, which slowly works its way to your throat. "I raised you so well," Levi murmurs, and you suck on his finger. Shortly after, two more join him. "I'm going to use you so well. You're going to do exactly what you were made to do: choke on my cock and milk it afterwards." A long moan escapes you and you suck on his fingers, your tongue playing with them before withdrawing them again. A feather-light touch brushes over your left nipple and you sigh. "I saw the look on your face earlier. How shamelessly you fantasize about such things while your cadets are in front of you and that idiot Oluo is standing next to you. How I would have loved to take his place". Your saliva causes your nipples to harden again as the cold air swirls around them. The hand in your hair loosens. Shortly after, you feel something warm and soft against your lips. Your mouth opens again and you groan. Levi's cock slides between your teeth into the roof of your mouth and he moans out too. "Fuck, finally." You feel the wetness between your legs run down your thigh before it drips onto the floor. Levi's hand finds its way into your hair again, and he pulls his hips back before they shoot forward again and his cock buries itself in your mouth once more. He holds this speed for some time. You get warmer and warmer, especially at the thought of you kneeling there right now in front of him and him using your mouth. "You're doing so good, slut," Levi murmurs from above, thrusting harder. The sound of your mouth smacking and his increasingly heavy breathing echoes through the room. You taste a few drops of his juice and your eyes roll back into your skull. Again, a long moan escapes you and the hand in your hair grips harder. Slight pain jolts through your scalp and goosebumps form on your skin again.
"Your mouth is so warm and wet. Just not as tight as your cunt, but I can change that". His cock finds its way deeper into your throat, almost hitting the back it before withdrawing completely. For a brief moment you feel his lips on yours, his tongue exploring the path his cock had paved earlier. He tastes himself on your lips and wants much more of it. The kiss is wild and he leaves you with throbbing, swollen lips. "Tongue out." Before you can take a breath, you're sticking it out at him again. He slaps his cock on it a few times before burying himself inside you again with one smooth thrust. His entire length fills your mouth, and you gag slightly as his tip sticks way too deep in your throat. Levi doesn't let up though, keeping you that way before resuming his previous speed and hardness. You squeeze your eyes shut, but tears escape your eyelids anyway. They wet the fabric on your eyes and find their way along under it, flowing down your cheeks and dripping on your legs. The more your throat hurts, the heavier Levi's breathing becomes. His balls hit your chin and his second hand finds its way into your hair as well, holding you in place.
"You feel so good," his deep, dry voice comes out. "...The way you sit here in front of me and suck me so good. Other men dream about it. Who would believe what a slut you are?" You moan and the vibration makes him wince and he claws into your scalp. As best you can, you slide your tongue around his shaft, grasping his tip, sucking on him while his hips keep thrusting. Your mouth and neck feel painful and your jaw hurts from the constant mouthing. As your tongue touches his balls, his hips twitch and he pulls back breathlessly. His cock pulls out of you again and you gasp for air. You cough heavily and saliva runs down the corners of your mouth.
Suddenly, Levi's hands push at your hips and pull you upward. Your legs are jello, which is why he catches your weight and supports you. The soles of your feet touch the ground for only a few moments before you feel his shoulder against your stomach and your face comes to rest on his back. The air is forced from your lungs and blood rushes to your head. He grips the rope at your wrists, thus holding you tight before he moves. “Levi, I want more”, you mumble and feel the juice running between your legs. He opens the door to his bedroom and carries you to his bed, where he lays you down somewhat roughly. The room smells like him. The bed linen is freshly washed, which is normal for him. The smell of tea is also heavy in the air, as well as its own note, which is that of Levi himself. “Tch, it's clear to me that you little bitch can't get enough. But do not worry, my big cock will fill you up in a minute.”
He turns you onto your stomach and pulls your butt up and towards him. You feel his warm breath at your center and your muscles tremble. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself for being so wet?" He blows against your wet lips and you squirm slightly under him. You feel his tongue licking once along your slit. You moan loudly as you finally get some touch before his hand hits your right ass cheek and you howl in pain. Without warning, his cock drills deep into your cunt and your moans mingle in the small space, echoing out to you. Immediately, Levi picks up the pace he had earlier while fucking your mouth. You jerk beneath him, moaning into the mattress beneath you, and your fingernails each dig into the wrist of the other arm. Again, Levi's hand closes around the rope and he pulls you up to him, grasping your throat with his other hand and biting your shoulder. You moan his name loudly and press against the warmth of his chest. He licks over the bite marks and fucks you harder. Your walls close tightly around his cock and he moans loudly next to your ear. "How tight can you get?" he murmurs, and his hand around your throat squeezes tighter. His fingers are right against your main arteries. Your air gets shorter, your pulse beats faster to push the blood into your head, but because of the pressure from his fingers it doesn't work. Light panic overcomes you and mixes with your lust. "Levi...I-I," you try to say before everything around you goes black. Your whole-body collapses and you can't finish your sentence. He immediately releases the pressure of his hand before you finally lose consciousness and the blood rushes back to your head. The difference in pressure makes you dizzy as you slowly regain consciousness. His thrusts don't stop, his endurance was immeasurable. He moans into your neck and your whole belly tingles with satisfaction. Your moans get louder again.
"Again?"
"Yes," you groan out. You hear him laugh softly before the pressure around your throat intensifies again and the scenario from just now repeats itself. The mixture of dizziness and pleasure is a deadly mix. Nothing feels better and you want more, more and more, but Levi knows exactly when to stop before he puts your little body through too much. As you come to yourself again, Levi loosens his hand around the rope and wraps his arm around your stomach. He presses you tighter against him, holding your weak body tight. "You're the biggest slut," he murmurs against your ear. The hand on your belly slowly strokes to your pelvic bones, slowly finding its way between your legs. He circles your clit with his middle finger, making you twitch and squirm against his chest as you praise his name. His lips settle on your neck, beginning to suck as his hand pushes deeper. He feels his own cock thrusting into you and adds his index and middle fingers, burying them in your creamy hole as well, which they grip tightly, and your moans grow louder again. No one must ever know what Levi does with you during all those hours in his bedroom. No one would probably believe it. How many marks he has left on your body, how many times he has cut off your air, how many times he has fucked you into unconsciousness, left your cunt sore. If Levi would be a religion, you would be its first martyr.
You lay your head in your neck and his hand around your throat rests on your forehead, pressing your head back. This makes it easier for him to get to your throat with his mouth. He licks away the sweat next to the mark before making more. "I'm so sick of no one knowing what I do to you," he hums against your neck. "I'm so fed up with the fact that some complete idiots actually still think they have a chance with you, can fuck you the way I'm doing right now". At these words he fucks you incessantly, his two fingers in addition inside you, which stretch you further and you are in heaven. Your delirium is near. He feels his way forward, curves his fingers, massages the inside of your walls. He just can't get to your g-spot due to the extra space his dick takes up and you will think you are going insane. "Even though yes I love how jealous you get of Petra. Tch, as if I would touch that filthy bitch." His thrusts get even harder and your whole-body tenses, groaning in pain. "No one can give me what you give me," he whispers. No one could give him the power he had over you. He could do whatever he wanted with you and you would get wet with lust and horniness. You were a dream come true, not just in that way. Levi loves you more than anything else in the world, even if he never says it, but deep inside you know it.
The thumb of his hand moves between your legs again to your clitoris and presses against it. A second, two seconds pass before you explode. Your vision goes white despite your blindfold, your body writhes, the muscles in your thighs twitch wildly, and you scream the room together. His name falls from your lips again as he fucks you through your orgasm. Each thrust brings sparks, his lips on your neck and his hands on and inside you. As your body slowly calms, he releases you, removes his hands, and pushes you back into the mattress. Your face shifts over the fabric before he has you back in the right position. His right leg settles next to your hip and you hear the bed creak beneath you. He continues to increase his speed, getting harder. His head settles into your neck and he moans loudly as he fucks you, finally meeting his end. Tears run down your cheeks as your body is drained, screaming at you to take a break. But the sensation between your legs pulls through your body again, making you moan once more. His hands dig painfully into your ass before Levi explodes inside you. His juice squirts into you and your name falls from his lips, giving you butterflies again. He thrusts with light strokes before gradually slowing down and dropping against your body.
He gives himself a brief moment before rising from you and untying your hands. without any remaining body tension, you fall onto the mattress beneath you and tear the blindfold from your head. The room is dark. The sun has set in time and your sense of time is confused. The light from the candle in the office brings a little light into the room, so that you can make out the outlines of the furniture.
"Better?" You hum to him and snuggle into the blanket beneath you. "Oi, I'll run us a bath, don't fall asleep." You grumble again and look after him as he leaves you alone and drained in the dark room.
#captain levi#aot#levi ackerman#attack on titan#aot x you#levi x you#levi x reader#levi x y/n#snk smut#shingeki no kyoujin
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Difficult Adjustments (Chapter 2)
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, PTSD (if I missed any warnings, let me know and they will be added)
Sweet Beginnings (Chapter 1)
--------------------------
"I want him."
Her words still echo through his mind as they make their way from Spider's lair. It's surreal - he's free.
Everything within surges with a sort of exhilarated thrill at the prospect of...anything really. But he must remain composed, if for no other reason than to ground himself in the sea of euphoria he's currently floating in.
He's free.
And she's beside him with every step. Their hands brush every so often with each stride - how he longs to take it.
Not yet. It isn't safe yet.
But as they emerge from the lair, Crow has a moment to take in the Tangled Shore. The soft breeze against his skin, that mangled sort of scent that reminded him that this was home.
"Now what?" Glint asks, hovering just over Crow's shoulder. Even his little light sounds uncertain and it brings him a modicum of comfort.
"I-I don't know. It doesn't feel real...Freedom." His own uncertainty slips into his voice as he pivots to look at her, "Why would you do this for us?"
She takes half a step closer, nodding solemnly as she speaks, "Because...you're a Guardian."
Crow watches her Ghost bob in agreement and he manages a smile. He suspects there's more to it than that but for now, it's answer enough. He casts one last glance over the Shore before nodding, "Then I suppose it's time to go."
---------------------
"You're...sure this is alright?"
The Young Wolf bumps into him playfully as she moves past him toward the wall of the next building to continue her ascent through the Tower. She's grabbing onto poles and ledges and Crow is having some difficulty keeping up with her.
"It'll be fine! Besides, you've been in the HELM for awhile. You need to see the City some. We did promise to show you her sunset spot." Ghost supplies as Crow reaches for a ledge.
"But Osiris said not to leave the HELM." He protests feebly, making no move to act on his objections.
"We'll be back before he even notices." He assures him confidently before darting back to his Guardian.
"They must do this often...disobeying authority, I mean." Glint remarks, watching the Guardian before them.
"You might be right...but I suppose if anyone will get away with a stunt like this, it's her." Crow chuckles softly.
"And what about us?"
"What about us? This was her idea." He smirks, pausing to look at his companion.
"...hopefully Osiris sees it that way." Glint grumbles.
"We'll be fine, Glint. Don't worry so much. Osiris isn't like Spider...any punishment won't come at the cost of our lives." His voice softens. For a moment, the memories flare and his grip on the ledge falters. He snaps to just as he starts to fall backward.
"Crow!"
It's Glint who calls out but it's her hand that locks around his, tugging him back against the wall from above. Sunset darts upward, staring down the vibrant red visor before managing an appreciative nod.
She gives him another tug and he takes the signal to climb the last foot to the top of the building with her firmly holding his hand to keep him from falling. He clambors over the edge and heaves a sigh, "Thanks."
She elbows him lightly, the way she used to when they would spar. Before she helped him refine the speed of his attacks, he'd have the occasional...clumsy counter. It wouldn't look anything like a Hunter should be - lacking any prowess and swiftness. She's taking a jab at him with that elbow to remind him and he shoulders her back lightly.
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh at the New Light."
She does just that, though he notices the subtle shake of her shoulders over the sound of her laugh. The wind is too loud, tossing their cloaks around them and the flags the billow along the otherside of the building.
He turns, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the landscape stretching out before them. Just beyond the Traveler, the sun has begun to set, painting the sky a myriad of crimson, gold and rose.
"...you weren't kidding about the view." He says softly as she steps up beside him.
Her fingers entwine with his and he barely has a moment to register her touch before she's pulling him over to the ledge. She wouldn't push him off - would she?
The thought is fleeting and vanishes as she takes a seat, giving his hand a light tug to encourage him to sit beside her. He does as she directs and his legs hang over the building ledge beside hers. Below them, the City draws their eyes out toward the wall and the valley just beyond.
"It's...beautiful," he whispers as the wind catches his hood and blows it back onto his shoulders. This is nice. This is...he could get used to this.
Perhaps it's a dangerous line of thought. Perhaps all of this will end very badly. But he will still have this moment at her side. Her hand entwined with his on her thigh and - her head is propped against his shoulder. Her hood is still up, her helmet still in place but she's leaning into him. He can't quite quell the smile that slips easily into place as he gazes down at her.
Some part of him wants to see her face, to gaze into her eyes beneath the Traveler and just get lost for a moment. The inclination to kiss her strikes him but he doesn't even know where to begin.
No. Things are fine as they are. He can hold her like this. He can enjoy her touch and her proximity - just for a little while.
"So...this is your favorite view in the City?"
She nods silently, beginning to absently trace the pad of her thumb over his knuckle.
When had she removed her gloves?
It's...a new sensation to him. To hold her hand, to feel the calloused skin of her palm against his. Her grip is firm yet gentle, warm and tangible and there. He never wants to let go. Perhaps that's why he squeezes, why he leans his head down against hers and just...smiles.
This is home now.
"Enjoying yourselves?"
"Uh oh," Glint mumbles.
The chiding voice behind them startles Crow. His head snaps upward, the smile all but vanishing. But the voice doesn't belong to Spider and the Young Wolf radiates more annoyance than anything else beside him. Crow shifts, looking over his shoulder at the source and cringes.
"Guardian, I trust you have a good reason for taking our new friend on an escapade?" Osiris folds his arms over his chest in mild annoyance.
The Young Wolf shrugs, laying down on her back and looks up at him. Crow is vaguely aware of the the fact that she hasn't released his hand, but what surprises him the most is how nonchalant she is when she gives Osiris a wave.
"Would you believe us if we told you it was for sparring practice?" Ghost offers weakly, though amusement dances on the edge of his voice.
"No. I don't believe I would."
"No one can see us up here," the Young Wolf says at last, "He's safe."
"That's not the point--"
"I can head back--" Crow interjects, already beginning to get to his feet. He doesn't want to be the cause of any trouble - trouble leads to consequences and--
She tugs him back down beside her, "I promised him a sunset. I'll bring him back in one piece, Osiris. Promise."
The elder Warlock looks at her skeptically, but her expression is veiled beyond her visor. Does she do that on purpose? Make herself unreadable so people can't argue? Can't see through whatever web she's weaving? Crow wonders how she's so calm all the time and it suddenly all makes sense.
Being the Vanguard's favorite Guardian, Shaxx's champion, Drifter's partner...it all gives her a certain degree of freedom - and she's capitalizing on it for his benefit.
Just as she played Spider.
He looks down at her for a long moment in awe before meeting Osiris's gaze, "Just until sunset?"
"...very well." Osiris relents with a heavy sigh, "Wear the mask if you go through the City."
"I will." Crow promises with a smile.
"On your way back to the HELM, go see Saint." The Young Wolf adds sternly, "He misses you."
Crow watches the Warlock pause, and he wonders if he detects a degree of hesitancy in his eyes before he leaves without a word.
"He and Saint are--?"
"Together," Ghost supplies, "Some say married, others say courting. Personally, our money is on married, I don't know anyone who would break time itself just to rescue a potential boyfriend. We've got a bet going with Drifter about who can find out the fastest what the truth is."
"Huh." Crow nods with a smile. "Didn't think Osiris had those kinds of emotions."
"He plays the stoic mentor, but he's got all sorts of emotions pent up in that head of his." Ghost returns with a bobbing nod.
"Right." He shifts his gaze back to her, but she seems oblivious. Her hold on his hand had loosened ever so slightly and she seems lost in thought. "Everything alright?" He asks tentatively.
Her head tilts toward him for a moment, as if she's looking right through him, as if he isn't even there.
"Guardian?" There's a sliver of concern easing in his voice. When she doesn't answer, he squeezes her hand and she jerks, snatching her hand back.
"Hey, it's alright," he holds his hands up and leans back. "Just me."
She stares at him for a long moment before her eyes drop. "Sorry," she murmurs.
"What happened?" He asks softly, lowering his hands.
"...just thinking," her head turns back toward the Traveler, "about how much has changed."
"Change is...good, right?"
"It is and it isn't," her thumb grazes the holster that houses her hand canon, the ace peeking out from beneath the strap over it.
His eyes drift from the weapon back to her visor. He can't say he's a fan of this line of thought, she sounds...full of regret, full of grief.
Crow slides a little closer, gently wrapping his arms around her and she goes rigid.
"In this case...it was good," he says softly.
He can feel the tension draining away as she returns his embrace, laying her head on his chest. "It is," she whispers.
Her embrace is tight and desperate, but he enjoys it all the same. It's her after all. His Hunter. His Old Light. He is at ease only at her side and he prays that never changes.
"So, how about that sunset?" Glint manages, drawing both Hunters' eyes to the Traveler and the sun descending in the sky.
Crow smiles, giving the Young Wolf a light squeeze, "Better than the Shore."
And she laughs.
---------------------
"You were seen!"
"At that distance, in the dark? No.”
"Enough to put a name to a dead man’s face. The commander told Ikora. Thankfully, he passed you off as a hallucination.” Osiris rages and the Young Wolf looks visibly uncomfortable as a third party observer.
Crow narrows his eyes at Osiris, “An assassin was inside our walls. I had to do something.”
“This isn’t the first time an enemy has infiltrated the City, and it won’t be the last. Your concern is noted, but far from a crisis.”
“An attempted assassination isn’t a crisis?” Crow asks, staring at the elder Warlock incredulously.
“Zavala is quite capable of dispatching a lone Psion.” Osiris returns easily. He’s dismissive and Crow doesn’t appreciate being brushed aside so easily.
“He was distracted. Soon to be Lightless. If I wasn’t—“
“Unmasked?” Osiris interrupts, leaning forward, “Didn’t the Spider teach you that even small mistakes bring large consequences?”
His temper flares. Spider taught him a lot of things - mostly to be afraid. To bow his head and his knee and follow orders. To be submissive. To grovel and be wary. To be an animal and not a man.
But she changed that when she forced Spider to let him go. And he will never go back to the way that he was.
“I suppose you learned that chasing Xivu Arath,“ Crow bites back sharply.
He hadn’t - the glint in his mentor’s eyes when he shifts strikes him to his very core. When Osiris takes half a step forward, his fingers poised toward the Hunter in a point, “Choose your next words wisely.”
To his right, the Young Wolf looks between them. He can sense her uneasiness, the uncertainty all too evident in her stance. She doesn’t know who to side with, who to console and who to reprimand in that moment.
The tension triggers something in the back of Crow's mind. A nagging sense he'd gained from one too many conflicts with Spider. He knows when to relent. When to reign in his...insolence, as Spider often referred to it.
It's what he knows and it seems a suitable response in that moment.
He was out of line with that remark and he knows that. But the alarm in his mind screams for him to smooth things over - his life is on the line, isn't it? His place in the City?
He shifts, avoiding the Warlock’s gaze but even across the table, the anger is suffocating. There is a shadow of shame in his voice when he manages to find the words - at least when he begins. “I should have kept my mask on, but I don’t regret acting. I still think Zavala’s in danger.”
Osiris seems to relax, stepping back to where he had been when he speaks. “That is why I’m embedding you as his bodyguard.”
“Is that…wise?” Crow asks, his own uncertainty slipping into his voice.
When the Warlock continues, it's as if his intent is to erase any semblance of uncertainty. It is strong and firm and direct. “We need to draw in their assassins, and a full security outfit is too obvious. Keep your mask on. Always. Do not speak. Can I trust you to handle this with discretion?”
He leaves no room for argument but Crow is grateful for the chance to help nonetheless. But this time, this time he’s acting under orders and it is sanctioned. He can follow orders - it’s what he’s good at.
“The utmost.” He says at last, his eyes flickering over to the Guardian standing at the head of the table before turning and disappearing into the Light.
It’s only a matter of minutes before the Young Wolf descends the staircase. From her gait, he can tell she’s more at ease with all of this - no doubt having had a conversation with Osiris that put her mind at ease.
Perhaps he should apologize to the Warlock for what he said, but, maybe that should wait until all of this is well and truly over.
She stops in front of him, her arms settling in a cross over her chest and he gets the sense she’s about to scold him. He jumps in quickly, hoping to avoid yet another lecture.
“My mask was in my hand. Stupid, I know, but I felt…safe. I thought I could just relax for a minute. It was a mistake.” Her head tilts, her shoulders sagging as if pitying him.
He gestures with his hand, trying to ignore her sympathy, “Osiris tells me the commander always talks about making the hard choice. Reveal myself or let him die. Whatever I chose, someone would still say I was wrong.” He throws his hands up in frustration but his voice softens as he continues.
“I’m sure you’ve lost people. Wracked your mind for how it could have been different. Too far away to act, but close enough to wonder. If you could have stopped it, wouldn’t you? No matter the cost.”
She straightens. Her head turns ever so slightly and he frowns. There is something there. Something in the way she shifts her weight from one leg to the other. In the way she uncrosses her arms and her hand settles over the hilt of her handcanon. There's something distant and grieving and he almost regrets mentioning it. But then it’s gone, as if she shoved it from her mind as quickly as it came to the forefront of her thoughts.
He suspects, given her reaction, it has to do with that cloak she wears. The ace matches the gun on her hip she'd instinctively reached for and he lets himself wonder, if only for a moment before continuing.
“I’ve been at the mercy of something I couldn’t stop, without knowing why. Blind in a nightmare. I didn’t want to be a reason for more pain.” He admits softly, pain slipping into his voice and her hand settles on his shoulder. It’s her way of offering reassurance, her way of letting him know she is there and will back him no matter what.
He appreciates it more than she could ever know.
His hand settles over hers, eyes locking with her visor, “The next time they come for the commander, they’ll have to get through me. Mask or no mask.” A small smile slips into place along his lips beneath his mask, a shadow of amusement in his voice, “Just…don’t tell Osiris I said that.”
He hears a soft snort and she squeezes his shoulder gently.
“We won’t mention it,” her Ghost answers on her behalf and he nods.
“Thanks…you should probably get back out there.” Crow manages, suddenly very sheepish with how close she’s standing. The weight of her hand on his shoulder kicks his heart into a rapid thrum and he lowers his eyes.
But when she moves forward, he's not expecting it, he flinches back. The heel of his boot skids against metal and she retreats a step quickly, giving him space.
She was going to hug him. Nothing more.
Easy, Crow. He's still on edge from his argument with Osiris, still calming the alarms in the back of his mind. She's waiting, hands poised in surrender in front of her as if to try and look less like a threat.
She's never hurt him. Not even while sparring - at least not intentionally. A few bruises from hitting the ground but - she wasn't going to hurt him just now. She was offering comfort and he--
"I'm sorry," he manages after a moment, guilt flaring in his eyes as he catches his breath and tries to calm his racing heart.
"Don't apologize," she says softly, "I should have--"
He takes her hand and squeezes it firmly to silence her. Her shoulders sag in relief, her head tilts as she speaks.
"Are you alright?"
"I will be." He assures her. In truth, his hold on her is for his own benefit rather than hers. He doesn't associate her touch with pain or danger - it's safe. Their evening atop the Tower drowns the memories from the Shore and he can finally feel the tension in his chest begin to subside. "I'm okay."
She squeezes his hand in response, patiently waiting at his side as he collects himself. When he can bring himself to meet her gaze again, she takes a slow step closer. Her other hand lifts, poised in the uncertain beginnings of an embrace and she hesitates. His eyes drift from her arm to her helmet for a long moment before nodding.
Her arms carefully wind around him, he can feel her tension, how aware she is trying to be of every reaction. She's so gentle with him, always so mindful of what he's endured and how she can try to ease that pain. When she's close enough to hug him properly, Crow relaxes. He wraps his arms around her and tugs her a little closer for a tight hug.
This is better.
His chin settles on her shoulder, his eyes searching the wall behind her as if grappling with the reality he's in right now. She's never hugged him before. Leaned into him, yes. Held his hand, of course. But never fully embraced him. He wonders what's going through her mind but she offers no clues with how tightly she's holding him.
This isn't just her offering comfort. This is thank you...for saving Commander Zavala. The Young Wolf rarely speaks, most of her words come through her actions and he's...getting better at reading them.
He can't help but smile, can't help but give her a squeeze and lean his head against hers. He can feel her fingers wound tight around the fabric of his cloak, clinging to him wordlessly. He doesn't want to decipher anything else right now - not her vice grip, not the racing of his own heart. He just wants to hold her, stay in this moment a little while longer.
But her comms have other plans.
They both hear it and as she starts to pull away, Crow fights the urge to tug her back...it's a short-lived battle because she notices the tension and reluctance in his arms and looks at him.
He stares into that visor for what feels like an eternity before she leans in. She rests her forehead against his, a soft Ghost slips from her lips and the cool metal vanishes.
He is grateful he's wearing his mask because his lips part in a silent gasp. Sunset connects with sharp emerald eyes and his breath catches. He's never seen her face, never looked beyond the veil.
"Guardian," he murmurs, his hand lifting to touch her cheek but he stops. Inches from her skin, his fingers curl and he begins to recoil.
This time there is no visor, no veil concealing the concerned flicker of her eyes from his hand to his features. It feels...unbalanced. She is usually the one safe behind a mask, with the roles reversed--
Her comm goes off again and she tears her eyes away from him to look toward her Ghost.
"Zavala is asking for you." He supplies softly, as if reluctant to interrupt their moment.
She nods, casting a glance toward Crow and offering an apologetic smile. She gives a light wave and pivots to leave but he catches hold of her arm. Her eyes snap up to his mask quizzically just before he drags her into a tight hug.
"Be careful," he whispers.
It isn't a request. It's a plea. He needs her to be alright. He can't lose her.
Not now.
Not ever.
-------------------
"So, Caital's champion, huh?" Crow props himself at the top of the landing ramp of her ship. His arms are crossed, his eyes flitting along the interior of the ship and she tosses him an amused smile.
In the last few weeks alone, she's removed her helmet more and more often when she's around him - when it's just the two of them. He enjoys it a bit too much, finally getting to see just how expressive her features are. It's no wonder her helmet stays on when making deals, she can't keep those eyes in check. If she's not rolling them, they're studying people so intently they squirm.
"You think you'll beat him with one super?" He continues to tease, trying to see how long it takes for her to laugh.
Instead, she throws a field blanket at him and he laughs. He picks it up, setting it back in its place and lingers not far from her. She's turned to shift some gear around and when she turns back, she nearly collides with his chest.
She narrows her eyes, glaring up at him with a mocking irritation.
"I'm sorry, am I in the way?"
"Yes, my Little Light, you are." She returns with a soft chuckle and his heart soars.
"Oh, then by all means, I'll get out of your way." He smirks, starting to turn to leave when she pulls him back, proceeding to elbow him lightly as she squeezes past the Hunter to pick up the mask he'd left lying near the opening of the hold. Crow chuckles and rubs at his ribs, sunset drifting along her frame and finally settling settling her playful expression.
"Not without this."
He steps up to her, fingers gripping the mask just above her own and gives a light tug at it. Predictably, she doesn't relinquish her hold and Crow leans in a little closer.
"Anything else, Old Light?"
He is...tempting her. Intentionally. His face is inches from her own and all he can think about is kissing her - just once - to wish her luck, of course.
For a moment, he wonders if she'll take the bait. But then there's a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips and her fingers curl around the front of his cloak, pulling him down just enough to press a kiss to his cheek as her other hand simultaneously releases the mask.
He's stunned. He watches her turn nonchalantly and descend the ship's ramp. His hand lifts, touching his cheek with a sort of dumbfounded excitement as he smiles.
Well played, Old Light.
--------------------
She's propped against the wall beside his quarters when Crow finally returns to the HELM. Their secret is out. Zavala knows his face, they have an alliance with the Cabal and the Young Wolf - well, he watches her jolt to an upright position the instant she sees him, helmet vanishing as she approaches him.
He's tugged into a crushing embrace before he can utter a greeting and he smiles softly. He wraps his arms around her waist, "Hey, Guardian." He manages softly, his worry melting away in her embrace.
When she doesn't answer, he squeezes, "I'm okay." He tries to reassure her even as her fingers curl around his cloak and squeezes him back. Beneath his fingers, he can detect a small tremble, feel a subtle flare of solar energy against his fingertips. She'd been worried - it takes him a moment to process that. He's known she cares about him, known there was something there, but...this feels different.
Her hold is desperate, crushing. In the middle of the hallway, she is clinging to him as if he were life itself. He almost wishes she'd speak, voice whatever it is that has her so shaken but something tells him that won't happen.
"Do you want to come in?" He asks after a moment, rubbing her back soothingly.
"Can't," she manages quietly, "Have to check in with Zavala."
"Go check in," he whispers, pressing a kiss into her hair, "I'll be here when you get back."
She lifts her head, emerald drifting over his features and her hand cradles his cheek. Her eyes seem to beg for him to give his word, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone.
"I'll be here," he assures her, pressing a soft kiss to the palm of her hand, "Go on."
For a second, he thinks she's going to kiss him. The way she leans a little closer, but her eyes drop and she nods reluctantly. One last brush of her thumb and she pulls away, her helmet transmatting into place and she vanishes into the Light.
He has an inkling, a vague idea what it is that's rattled her. Perhaps it's the same reason Zavala was so shaken when he saw Crow's face. They all know what or who he used to be. That much was confirmed that night Crow prevented Zavala’s assassination.
What he doesn't understand is why they all seem...reluctant. Surely who he was couldn't have been that bad - but then again, maybe he was. For a moment, he wonders if the Young Wolf stays as close as she does to him to act as a spy. It's certainly something the Spider would have done...but this isn't the Shore. The Vanguard doesn't operate like that, do they?
No. No, she's genuine. She always has been. He has no reason to doubt her now. It'll be fine.
Crow shakes his head and steps inside his room, closing the door softly behind him and takes off his cloak. He drapes the fabric over the chair in the room and takes a deep breath.
Glint materializes beside him, hovering as the Hunter trudges over to his bed.
"You should rest." His Ghost advises softly, "We had quite the day."
"Yeah," Crow collapses onto the mattress, draping his arm over his eyes, "I'll go to sleep when she gets back..."
"I don't think I've ever seen her that worried before."
Crow heaves a heavy sigh. "Neither have I. There's more to this, Glint. I can feel it. She wasn't just worried about the assassination attempt."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because she knows I can handle myself. She had this...spooked look in her eyes, same one Commander Zavala had when he saw me without the mask. There's a reason Osiris reacted the way he did after that night..."
"Maybe it's best you don't know. The Guardian says you're not supposed to know who you were in your past life."
"Maybe," Crow says softly, allowing his arm to settle beside him as he gazes up at the ceiling.
For all their words, who he used to be seems to be a fairly relevant deal - he's been killed far too many different ways for it not to.
He makes a mental note to ask her about it as he drifts off.
------------------
"The House of Light is here on Earth?" Crow asks, watching the Guardian clean her handcanon at his desk.
"Yeah. Ikora set a whole section of the City aside for them," her Ghost supplies with an edge of excitement. "Mithrax has offered his help in exchange for a sanctuary for his people."
"Misraaks," Crow says softly, correcting the Ghost as he steps up behind the Young Wolf. His hands settle on her shoulders, sunset absently studying her fingers deftly reassembling the weapon.
How many times has she done it with this gun alone? It's like second nature now. It's almost mesmerizing how her fingers move the mechanisms. But when they still, Crow looks down.
She's gazing up at him, that curious glint in her eyes as she tries to decipher what he's after.
"What?" He asks innocently and she quirks an eyebrow. Her head leans back just enough to lean against his torso and he can't quite quell the chuckle that slips out.
"Comfortable, are you?"
She smirks triumphantly - it seems she was after a laugh. He gently combs her hair back away from her face with his fingers, "Finish putting your gun together."
Her eyes close beneath his touch as if in spite of him. His eyes trace over her features, admiring the soft smile that plays at the corner of her lips, the peaceful ease that settles over her features. His movements are slow, soothing and he enjoys being the one she can relax around. It's a side of the Young Wolf he knows very few get to see.
He adjusts ever so slightly, allowing him to bend down and press an affectionate kiss to her forehead. He lingers, her hand reaches for him and brushes along his cheek blindly. He laughs softly, drawing her eyes open at the sound and sunset locks with emerald.
He has missed being at her side, seeing her as often as he liked. But she heads into the Vex simulation nearly every day to put an end to the Night simulation. Tonight is the first time they've both been back in the HELM in weeks. Crow has been following up leads for Zavala with the Cabal. Now - now he gets her all to himself, if only for tonight.
"Finish building the gun," he says softly but sternly.
He starts to straighten up before her fingers hook around the back of his head and lightly tug him back down so they're face to face. An awkward position to be sure given that she's essentially upside down in her seated state.
Her eyes are all the challenge he needs. There's a cockiness, a smugness as they gaze up at him and he can't hide his smile.
Or what?
It's what she's saying without actually uttering a word but her fingers are toying with strands of his hair and it's damn distracting.
He could drag this out, make a smart-ass remark about his Old Light's self-imposed bedtime but he doesn't feel like playing that game tonight.
So, he touches her cheek softly as he presses a kiss to her palm before meeting her gaze, "Because it's nearing sunset and we need time to reach your vantage point," he watches the cockiness give way to genuine excitement.
There's that child-like enthusiasm he's grown to adore.
She frowns slightly, almost like a pout when he releases her hand. It's short lived as she turns back to the gun and begins to put the weapon back together. Crow leans on the back of the chair, leaning his head against hers and just...watches.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world - being at her side.
He prays that never changes.
--------------------
Bidding Farewell (Chapter 3)
Taglists are open! Send an ask/leave a comment to be added!
Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @genken64 @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 @ceaselessphoenix
#the crow#crow x guardian#crow x young wolf#the young wolf#glint#glint destiny#destiny ghost#destiny hunter#destiny 2 hunter#season of the chosen#season of the splicer#destiny 2#destiny#destiny fanfiction#destiny fic#phantom writes
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Lovey-dovey valentines | G.W.
Pairing: George Weasley x reader
summary: Being in a relationship with George while you’re at Hogwarts, the two of you spend Valentine’s Day together.
word count: 2602
warnings: mentions of food and eating
a/n: this was supposed to come out for valentines but oh well!
tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @amourtentiaa ; @thisismynerdyself ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss ; @lumos-barnes ; @hufflepuffalice ; @slytherclawbitch ; @hufflepuff5972 ; @pandaxnienke ; @harrysweasleys ; @ickle-ronniekins ; @whizboingies
Feedback means the world!!
„Y/N!! Y/N, wait up..!” you heard Harry call from behind you, as you reached the moving staircase. You turned around immediately and waited for him, confused about the urgency in the tone of his voice. You were slightly worried he had some new trouble again.
“Hi,” you greeted, once he caught up, breathing a bit heavily. “You alright?”
“Brilliant,” he nodded, smiling a bit awkwardly. You began walking together in the direction of your common room. “I, uhm- I think-… I just accidentally asked Cho out on a date.”
You snorted quietly with amusement, wondering how one can do such a thing accidentally.
“Or maybe it was her who asked me out, I don’t know…” he mumbled. “She sort of mentioned that the next Hogsmeade weekend falls on Valentines Day and then it kind of happened…”
“But that was the goal, wasn’t it?” you interrupted, “ You wanted to go out with Cho?”
“Yeah, yeah, I did. I mean, I do.”
“Good for you then,” you congratulated your friend and continued walking in comfortable silence as you suspected a million thoughts flooded his mind right now.
The thought of love day approaching got you thinking as well.
You and George have been in a relationship for months now, but this would be your first valentine’s day together. Your relationship was quite serious for your age, you thought. From the very beginning, you were crazy for each other. After a few months, you said your first ‘I love you’, being more certain of it than anything else in your life.
George was leading you to the hospital wing, holding your hand tightly, yet a bit stiffly. His jaw was clenched and he hasn’t said a word the whole way.
You had burnt your hand while practising potion making with an old friend of yours. A friend who, as George knew, used to have a crush on you before you were in a relationship. That was a sensitive topic, you rarely brought it up. George wouldn’t cause a scene over something like that, nor would he try to limit you, but you knew it bugged him.
“Are you upset because I was with Matt?”
Silence.
“How long is it going to keep upsetting you? You know he doesn’t matter, why are you still jealous?” you stopped walking.
“How can I not be?!” he asked sincerely, raising his voice a bit in frustration and turned to face you.
“Because I love you, idiot!” you shouted. “I love you…” you repeated quietly, toning down as you realised what you said. The words that had been circling your mind for weeks, wanting to come out.
All trace of previous anger disappeared from his face as his expression softened and he looked into your eyes, looking for any sign of uncertainty. Your confession shocked him, so much so that his mind went blank and he stared at you in silence.
“Georgie..?” you whispered, your voice quivering a bit as his silence started worrying you in your vulnerable state.
He snapped out of his trance, blinking a few times.
“I love you. Like crazy,” he confessed breathily.
This was all you needed to hear as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he hugged you back tightly around your middle, picking you up.
“I love you,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head and hid your face in the crook of his neck. “… with all my heart.”
Although you loved each other dearly and never failed to express your feelings to each other, a big part of your relationship was the friendship you shared. You had also developed a bit of an old married couple dynamic, especially around your group of friends. They even joked you two were the parents of the group – which applied sometimes, but most times you were just as irresponsible as the rest of your teenage friends.
You noticed George laughing and hanging out with his mates by the couches, he saw you right away. You smiled at him, motioning you would go up to your room to leave your things and change then come back.
When you walked down the stairs, George got up right away, walking up to you and took your hand in his. Knowing him, this meant he wanted to go upstairs to his room, eager to spend some time alone with you.
“Hi, bubs,” he leaned down to give you a quick kiss. “Had an okay day?” he asked, already leading you towards the stairs.
“Yeah, uneventful but alright. You had any fun?”
“Not as much as right now,” he replied cheekily.
When you reached his room, you got comfortable on George’s bed and chatted about your day. When the conversation hit a natural pause, your thoughts came back to valentines. You’ve never had the chance to properly celebrate that day before, except for getting an odd card or two. You also knew you were George’s first proper girlfriend, so you didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t even know if he liked the holiday.
“Do you have any plans for valentines?” you asked a bit out of the blue.
George looked at you with a neutral expression and replied, “Yeah, I have a date, actually. This really nice Hufflepuff bloke asked me out,” he carried on, and you quickly realised that you should’ve phrased your question differently with him.
He chuckled at your eye-roll and pinched your waist playfully.
“I thought you liked surprises. If I answer your question, wouldn’t that ruin it - if I had anything planned?”
“Not if you just said you were planning something. It would, however, prevent a situation where we both plan out the whole day for the other and clash terribly.”
“Mhm, true, true…” he nodded. “Well, I haven’t planned anything yet. Have you?”
“No.”
“Okay, then…” he nodded, “ Is there anything you’d like to do?”
You thought for a moment, looking at your boyfriend’s face as he smiled at you.
“Can I have you to myself for the whole day?” you asked.
His smile only grew wider as his heart swelled from your pure love. He moved closer to you, his face centimetres away from yours.
“You sure you want that?” He kissed you on the cheek and snuggled into your neck, adding, “morning till night-time?”
“Yes, morning till night-time,” you replied with a giggle, squirming a bit from the sensation of his face pressed against your sensitive neck, where he started planting soft, delicate kisses.
———⁙⁙⁛♥⁛⁙⁘———
On the morning of February 14th, you awoke with a jolt, the excitement of the holiday pushing your usual difficulties with getting out of bed away. Your roommates were still fast asleep, some even snoring quietly. You opened your eyes and pushed the curtains of your four-poster open quickly, then got up to see a gift bag and a bouquet of roses at the foot of the bed.
A smile broke out on your face at once and you could only hope George would be just as happy upon seeing a gift from you after waking up.
You couldn’t help but pick up the flowers first to inspect their beauty closer and run the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. With a flick of your wand, you conjured a glass vase onto your bedside table, filled it with water and put the bouquet in.
Inside the bag were some of your favourite sweets and a pinkish-white envelope. You put the sweets away for later, and picked up the envelope eagerly.
Dear Y/N,
as you probably already know, I’m not the best at describing my feelings using words. After sitting down to write this I realised there just aren’t any good enough to describe my love for you.
Stick with me and I promise to show you.
I already can’t wait to see you.
Love you, always,
George
You blinked away the tears collecting in your eyes, grinning like a fool at the piece of paper. You’d expected the note to be sweet, but it touched you beyond expectations.
You took a refreshing shower, did your morning routine and came back to your dorm room where the day has already started. Some of your roommates chirpy and energetic, some groggily crawling out of their beds. You put on the outfit you had picked out the previous evening and put a considerable amount of effort into your appearance – you really felt good.
Feeling giddy, you stepped out of your room and skipped down the spiralled steps quickly, hoping to find George already waiting for you in the common room.
He was sitting alone – Fred and Lee clearly still sleeping – on the rug in front of the fire. Lazily flicking his wand, he was making butterflies out of an old Daily Prophet, which then flew into the fire, disappearing in a mesmerising sight. George’s cheek was resting on his forearm, on one of his knees, with a slightly bored yet curious expression on his face. He was wearing a cardigan over a t-shirt and his hair was considerably less messy than usual – you smiled adoringly, that was him dressing up for you.
He heard your footsteps as you got closer and turned around, then jumped onto his feet, pocketing his wand. Beaming, he outstretched his arms to hug you.
“Good morning, Georgie,” you greeted before pressing your face into his chest, inhaling his scent, and you wrapped your arms tightly around him.
“Hi, Darling,” he replied, leaning down, and you pulled away just enough to kiss.
“Happy valentines day,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead.
You walked down to breakfast, hand in hand and settled down by the table. You noticed some of the food had a love-day twist to it, like heart-shaped toast.
“Have you thought about what you wanted to do, in more detail?” George asked you before taking a sip of his coffee.
“Mmm, actually… I thought, maybe we could just go really cliché, you know? Like, do all those stereotypically-romantic things.” You played with the food on your plate a bit sheepishly, even though your request wasn’t that far-fetched and above all, you had no reason to be shy in front of George. “I want to do that with you,” you added, a bit quieter.
George didn’t answer for a moment, but took his fork with a bit of his food and put it in front of your lips. “Open up,” he instructed with a foolish grin. You looked at him and chuckled, but opened your mouth nonetheless.
Chewing, you bumped into his side playfully but thought to yourself, it really did taste better.
———⁙⁙⁛♥⁛⁙⁘———
After lunch, it was time for most of the students to make their way to Hogsmeade. You and George lost the crowd after passing the school gates, you swayed your intertwined hands between the two of you excitedly.
You went on your usual Hogsmeade shop tour first, the necessary stops being Zonko’s for George’s mischief supplies and Honeydukes for some snacks for the two of you.
Walking along one of the side roads, giggling at one of your boyfriend’s jokes, you saw it.
The epitome of corny romance, in all its flowery and frilly glory – Madam Puddifoot’s.
You gasped audibly, making George stop talking. It took him a second to realise what you’ve been looking at, the tea shop usually being ignored by most.
“What?” he asked suspiciously, after adding two and two together.
“We have to go in.”
“We don’t have to do anything.”
“No-n-no- we have to,” you repeated, finally looking at him, just to see him try to force a smile over the slight disgust written on his face.
If there was ever a good time to visit the sickly romantic shop, it was now. You tugged his hand in the direction of the entrance with a wide, mischievous grin on your face.
“I’m so making fun of everyone in there,” he murmured into your ear, going through the door into the cosy space filled with couples.
“I know. I’ll be doing that with you,” you replied, scanning the tables to find a nice spot for the two of you.
You had a nice conversation over a cup of tea, drowning out the slightly uncomfortable sounds of others, trying very hard not to look at Roger Davies sucking his girlfriend’s face.
Then, the door opened again and in walked Harry with Cho. You and George both noticed that, George’s eyebrows raised approvingly as he was previously unaware of this particular piece of school gossip.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that…” you whispered, suddenly curious again about how your friend’s date is going. You had the best hopes for Harry, you knew he’s had a crush on Cho for a long time and he’s talked to you about it a few times.
You tried not to pay attention to them but to your own boyfriend sitting next to you, now holding your hand. You also couldn’t really see them - when you were turned to George, Harry and Cho were out of your field of view.
But then, your tables weren’t that far away in the small space, you heard Harry ask Cho about going to see Hermione later. It did not take you long to figure out how he completely missed how the question came out.
Your conversation with George stopped and you looked up into his eyes. You knew he heard them too and was thinking the same thing as you. You really shouldn’t. But you did anyway.
The two of you bent lower over the table, turning to the side unsuspiciously. The conversation you were listening in on kept going downhill.
“Yikes,” George commented quietly so that only you would hear.
Harry was confused and Cho was getting angry. She turned around, looking over the rest of the tables and George reacted quickly. He took your face by the jaw to turn the back of your head to them, then kissed you hard, making it look like you were snogging the whole time.
You gave up on your spying plans quickly and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.
Soon, first Cho, then Harry were out of the tea shop, and you went back to just enjoying each other’s presence.
———⁙⁙⁛♥⁛⁙⁘———
“M’lady,” George handed you your hot butterbeer as you sat on the edge of the fountain of the clocktower courtyard, deserted so late in the evening. Cushions prepared by George were separating you from the cold stone.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” you replied, batting your lashes as you took the beverage from him, warming both of your hands on it. You snuggled up to George’s side when he sat next to you, wrapping an arm around you – another source of warmth on this cold evening.
But it was absolutely worth it –nature graced you with a cloudless sky, allowing you to stargaze to your heart’s content.
“Did I do a good job?” George asked you after minutes of silence.
“Delightful,” you replied genuinely, the happiness clear in the tone of your voice.
“So you enjoyed your Valentine’s Day?” he inquired further, kissing your temple.
“I loved it, Georgie,” you said, looking up at him, “did you?”
“Yeah, me too. And it was nice having just the two of us for the whole day.”
“Mhm,” you brought one of your warm hands to his jaw and brushed your thumb over his skin. “Every day with you is wonderful, but it is nice to have a day like this every once in a while.”
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Diluc x Reader Fake Marriage, part two
Part One
So, this is a continuation of the fame marriage fic, which I didn’t really intend to continue, but here we are.
Summary: Fake marriage, you know the drill.
Rating: T
Preview:
"You said, and I quote: 'you should really bring the Knights of Favonious with you next time,'" you reminded him.
Diluc faltered. "I didn't mean it like that."
Also on AO3
You had barely made it a hundred paces past the bridge that led out of Mondstadt before you began to regret you choice of travelling companion.
"Not getting cold feet, are we?" Kaeya asked as he walked backwards a few steps ahead of you, his hands casually clasped behind his head so that his elbows stuck out.
You rolled your eyes. "Cold feet from what?"
"Ya know..." Kaeya grinned. "Having Mondstadt's greatest Calvary Captain-"
"--Only Calvary Captain," you corrected.
Kaeya didn't miss a beat. "--Most handsome and charming Calvary Captain accompany you on your errands?"
"What is this, 'bring your obnoxious, little shit to work day?'" You scoffed. "I simply asked for an extra pair of hands, don't you think that this--" you jerked your head backwards small battalion of knights marching in formation behind you-- "is a little much?"
Kaeya gave you a nonchalant shrug. "Jean asked me to show some of the new recruits the ropes. Ya know, let 'em get their feet wet. I figured what better way than by shadowing my favorite adventurer?"
"Ah." You understood now. "I see what this is, you're trying to get me to do your job for you."
Kaeya gave you an impish grin. "Does that sound like something I would do?" he asked, well aware that was exactly the sort of reputation he'd curated for himself.
You didn't grace that with a response. "I thought that new honorary knight was your favorite adventurer?" you asked instead.
"Oh, no, no, no, my dear," Kaeya said, waving a finger back and forth in front of your face. You smacked his hand away and tried to will a small stone or a tree root to trip the backwards-walking idiot. It would serve him right.
"They are my favorite traveler. You-" he tapped your nose. You willed harder. "-are my favorite adventurer."
“Gee, I’m flattered,” you said drily.
You continued walking in silence-- well, you were silent, Kaeya was most decidedly not-- and it wasn’t until you were halfway through the Windwail Highland that Kaeya finally thought to ask, “So what’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going to see Andrius,” you said. “I need a spirit locket.”
“Spirit locket?” Kaeya echoed playfully. “Whatever for?”
You glared at him. He knew exactly what for, using up all your raven insignias the moment you could get your hands on them, occasionally not even waiting until you had removed them from the alchemy bench.
Kaeya placed a hand on his chest in mock surprise. “For me?” he asked, words practically dripping with that false honeyed tone he used when he felt like being particularly annoying. “Why, you shouldn’t have!” He was right. You shouldn’t have. Except Kaeya was your best friend (but Archons, at what cost?) and you had agreed to help him when he had bemoaned his difficulty in taking on the ice wolf due to his cryo vision.
Speaking of which-- “Oh, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be, what, with my cryo vision and all. I guess I’ll just have to watch while the rest of you fight,” he said, not sounding even remotely sorry.
“I did tell you not come,” you reminded him.
He opened his mouth to retort, but a voice in the distance calling out your name caused you both to turn your heads.
There, making his way toward you from the direction of Dawn Winery, was Diluc, his coat and bright red hair billowing dramatically behind him as he walked, which was odd, seeing as the ‘Windwail Highland’ was uncharacteristically un-windy. How did he always seem to do that? He must be personally blessed by Barbatos, you mused, and to his own credit, Diluc certainly knew how to make an entrance.
As he drew nearer, you could make out an irked expression on his face. That is to say, a different irked expression than the one he usually wore.
Once he was close enough to converse without shouting, he spoke to you directly, ignoring Kaeya and the other knights completely. “Since when do you hang around with the Knights of Favonius?” Was he pouting? Not quite, but he was coming very close to it.
You blinked. "I'm just taking your advice."
Diluc looked scandalized. "I would never advise such a thing!"
You spoke slowly, surprised at your own patience, "You said, and I quote: 'you should really bring the Knights of Favonious with you next time.'"
Diluc's indignant expression faltered with uncertainty. "We were just standing around," he defended himself weakly.
You could actually feel the vein in your eyelid twitch as you tried to control your sudden rage. "We were standing next to a campfire, so that we didn't freeze to death!" you said through gritted teeth.
Diluc knew he had no leg to stand on, so he switched tactics. "When I said take the Knights of Favonious with you, I didn't mean it like that," he said with indignance.
What was he even talking about?! Stubborn bastard. "There's only one way to take that you-- you--" You jabbed a finger into his chest repeatedly, trying to come up with the right word, but found yourself distracted by how ridiculously toned his abs were. You stopped poking him and flattened your hand against him, marveling at how well-defined he felt. It took at least a full thirty seconds before your brain reminded you that this was a weird thing to do.
Then a light chuckle reminded you that you also had an audience.
You quickly dropped your hand, clearing your throat awkwardly. Was Diluc staring at you? Probably, but you didn’t dare a look as you turned your attention towards Kaeya.
“Come along now,” he said, ushering the trainee knights back towards Mondstadt. “Let’s give these two lovebirds some privacy. We’ll find some nice, gentle dummies for you all to fight.” Some of the new recruits looked intensely relieved at not having to go up against the legendary wolf on their first day, which, yeah, was fair. But with them gone, you’d be left alone in this embarrassing moment with Diluc.
“Kaeya,” you hissed. “Get back here.” Kaeya kept walking. “Get back here,” you repeated more frantically, pointing at the ground in front of you. Kaeya put a hand up to his ear mouthing something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,’ as he continued on. “Get back--” Kaeya turned around, and you let out an angry squeak.
“ W-what I-I meant was--” Diluc stammered as the group disappeared from view.
You turned to face him to find his face had turned tomato red.
He took a deep breath and tried again. “I meant if I am unable to go with you. But, I am.” He coughed. “Able, that is.”
You raised an eyebrow. That was literally not what he said, but you’d let it slide. You assumed that he had only made the original comment out of stress, and it took seeing you parading around with the knights to realize what a jerk he’d actually been.
“Alright,” you said. “Want to go challenge an ice wolf?”
Diluc’s expression flattened. “This is for Kaeya, isn’t it?”
“I can call the knights back if you’d rather not--”
“No.” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Diluc grabbed your hand and began leading you down the road towards the Wolvendom.
---
“So about what we discussed last night...” Diluc said carefully as the two of you headed back towards the Dawn Winery, prize in hand.
You tensed. So much for never bringing it up again. “Last night?”
“Yeah, you know.” Diluc either didn't notice or decided not to take your out. “The whole... ‘fake married’ thing.”
“You’re not actually considering that, are you?” Why were you so damn nervous all of the sudden? It wasn’t like you had agreed to anything. But then again, why not? It wasn’t like you would fall for a guy like Diluc, right? Someone as prickly as him? Did he even have a romantic bone in his entire body? It would be like falling in love with a mitachurl. Of the blazing axe variety, to be precise. Because of the fire.
“Well, I was giving it some thought, and I realized it could actually be incredibly beneficial,” he explained. “To both of us, I mean. You take most of the commissions around the Windwail Highlands and Brightcrown Mountains--”
“--Because of the treasure,” you reminded him. Why did you feel the need to remind him every time it came up? It wasn’t like you had some other secret reason. Okay, so yeah, the treasure in these areas was pretty much the same as anywhere else, but whatever.
“Right, because of the treasure.” Diluc continued, “So living in the manor just makes sense, I mean, even if we don’t get fake married, it makes sense, it wouldn’t be weird or anything.” Who exactly was he trying to convince, here? “And not having to be worried about having hopeful suitors dropping by the manor would give me more time to work and focus on...” He faltered. “Other duties.”
You rolled your eyes. “Diluc, I know you’re the Dark Knight Hero.”
Diluc looked shocked, but didn’t deny it. “How?”
"It was the hair.”
He stopped in his tracks. “Oh...”
“Yeah.”
“...I’ll get a hood,” he decided before he caught up to you, as if that would solve the problem. Somebody needed to help this man. Wait, as the one who noticed, was it your responsibility now? Archons, it just might be.
“But anyway. The marriage. The fake marriage, that is.” The Archons had a cruel sense of humor to make this man as awkward as he was and then give him a blush that matched his hair color. “What do you think?”
You stopped walking and turned to him. He stopped, too. His face was serious, but his eyes were... hopeful, maybe? Did he really need this that badly? Suddenly the thought of turning him down made you feel extremely guilty. Although, oddly enough, you didn’t want to turn him down. Because of the manor. You wanted to fake marry him for the manor, obviously. Just like how you took the commissions that required you to pass by the winery for the treasure.
“...Alright,” you finally agreed. “But don’t expect me to fall in love with you.”
“I thought that was the point,” Diluc agreed, and you had to summon an image of every cranky, sour, disgruntled face you had ever seen Diluc make in an attempt to block the image of Diluc smiling (not smirking, but actually smiling) that had seared itself into your brain. Not a problem, you assured yourself, it would probably only take a few days of cohabitation before you remembered how aggravating he could be.
In fact, it was mere moments later, when you stopped to gather some small lamp grass, (for him, no less,) that he reminded you of just that by cutting you off mid-comment with a growled ‘I don’t do small talk,’ before he looked at the sky impatiently to assess the time.
“I still have a lot to do at the guild, how about you take a rest while I go back?”
Oh, you were so bringing the Knights or Favonius with you next time.
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Wind of Change (Part 3/3)
Jaskier x Enchantress!Reader
Summary: One day two men come to your castle, just when you were already done with love, a certain bard catches your eye.
Leaving with Jaskier was possibly the best decision you ever made.
But you did notice how careful he was around you. Deep down he knew you knew more about him than he shared. And the fact that he watched you move a mountain with a movement of your hand, did remind him just how strong you were.
Geralt went back to the village and told them the witch is gone, he never specified if he killed her or what happened, but he was paid handsomely for it.
Meanwhile, you followed Jaskier wherever he went.
Since you traveled from one place to another, you hid your true identity. You chose to wear clothing women wore no more headpiece, jewels, and even changed the aura around you. When you changed yourself, Jaskier had a moment when he didn't recognize you. Geralt said he knew it was you from the smell for which you accused him of being a hound.
Your admiration and obsession for the bard was quite obvious. You weren't even sure yourself why he intrigued you so much.
You heard many people sing in your life. You heard many beautiful songs.
But his were special.
Jaskier's songs were different from any other. The passion he put into his songs was admirable and whenever he sang of a woman, you felt that jealousy in your blood boiling.
The fact that he was a very handsome man also added to the list.
In the beginning, Jaskier was oblivious. He thought your kindness was because you were alone for such a long time.
"You should be forward with him. He doesn't understand signs," said Geralt as he gave you a bowl of stew and some bread. You thanked him.
"But I'm not even sure what I want."
"What do you mean? You are always confident."
"I look confident, but I'm not. You know my story, Geralt."
"Jaskier is not like that." was what Geralt said before Jaskier joined the two of you at the fire.
He plopped down and started talking about what the people in town told him.
You could only stare at his profile. You thought to yourself what were you doing here.
You could do anything, literally, with your powers everything was possible. And yet you were like a teenage girl having their first crush.
And Jaskier was so oblivious.
He didn't notice when you scared a young woman away who dared to look at him two seconds too long.
He didn't notice how you dealt with the monster that wanted to bite his head off.
He didn't notice the way you looked at him.
But Geralt did.
Geralt saw just how true your feelings were. If he was honest with himself at the beginning when you joined the two, he was skeptical, but you proved yourself.
And now, he was getting very frustrated with how the two of you danced around but didn't say anything to the other.
Oh, yes, Jaskier wasn't the only one who didn't notice the other's true feelings.
You were just as blind.
Geralt noticed how Jaskier stopped flirting with women. Geralt noticed how Jaskier would silently sit and watch you do anything and he would let out that longing sigh.
And Geralt saw the songs, oh so many songs that Jaskier wrote about your beauty, kindness, and power. Geralt saw it all. And he knew he needed to act, do something so the thickness would finally disappear from the air whenever both of you were around.
Passing through a particular town seemed to cause trouble, although you wore a hoodie, you could still hear people whisper behind you.
"Two rooms." said Geralt as he placed the coins on the table in the tavern, your head whipped towards him and so did Jaskier's.
"One for me and two for my friends here, they are married." said Geralt when the man in front of him started to question him. IT surprised you but you went along with it, holding Jaskier’s hand to stop the man from asking further questions.
This is how you found yourself in a room with only one small bed.
"I will sleep on the floor." said Jaskier.
"No, you take the bed, I won't sleep tonight."
"Don't be silly, you need to rest." argued Jaskier.
"Actually, not really. I usually just 'sleep' to give you and Geralt the illusion, but most of the time I'm up. I don't need as much sleep as you two do." you said as you sat down on the windowsill, looking up at the sky as you saw clouds gather.
"It will rain soon."
"I love you." your eyes widened at the voice behind you. You slowly looked at Jaskier who stood right next to the bed.
As if he was struck by lightning, he realized what he just said. He didn't mean to say it out loud, it was meant to be just his thought.
But in that split second when you looked at it and then he realized what he just said, he knew he couldn't hide it any longer. He quickly walked over to you and grabbed your hands, he knelt down in front of you and placed one of your hands on his chest, above his heart while he held the other.
Jaskier looked into your eyes.
"I love you." he took a deep breath before he continued. "I know I'm only a mortal, while you are a Goddess. But my feelings are true and they come deep from my heart. I know you can feel it."
"I do. But I'm worried. Last time I fell in love... it didn't end so well."
"I'm nothing like that idiot. He was a fool for not realizing the amazing woman that you are." you looked into his eyes, searching for something that would suggest he lied, anything to give you doubt but you found nothing. Jaskier was telling the truth and it made you very happy.
Jaskier watched as you moved to stand up and so did he, his eyes never leaving yours. He was taller than you as you looked up at him. You offered him a smile which he returned.
"I love you too." you whispered and leaned up to kiss him.
He didn't need to be told twice, his lips met yours in a sweet and slow kiss.
You damned the lungs of a mortal for he needed to pull away to get some air into them. He placed his forehead against yours and he slowly started to sway you in his arms.
Even though you were one of the most powerful beings on the planet, you felt so fragile but safe at the same time in his arms.
You knew that your relationship will face a lot of difficulties, there will be a lot of arguments and uncertainty. But you also knew that there will be even more happiness. Even more kisses and declarations of love, longing gazes, and holding one another.
But in that very moment, as he leaned in to kiss you one more time, all you could think about how perfectly his lips molded with yours.
And how much you loved this man.
He came into your life and turned it upside down, for the better. He was the wind of change in your life which you so desperately needed, and you didn't even know about it.
The End
A/N: Thank you so much for reading this short story! I hope you enjoyed it.
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#Jaskier#the witcher jaskier#jaskier dandelion#jaskier x reader#jaskier x you#the witcher#Witcher#The witcher Angst#the witcher series#witcher x reader#the witcher x reader#witcher x you#the witcher x you
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Morgan Le Fay (Alter Ego) My Room Lines
Morgause
“Master~ Can we stay here please? A moment’s rest may bring you far after all!”
“Ah, you really like to work don’t you? No no, I’m not accusing you of anything. I know your drive after all...”
“No matter what, it doesn’t seem I’ll get use to fighting. I wonder if either of those two would-ah. nevermind!”
Bond 1 “...Oh, sorry Master! I was spacing out there for a moment. I’m...not really use to being...heh, nevermind me!”
Bond 2 “Your magecraft seems a little shaky lately. Are you sure you’re feeling well? You eating well? Maybe a nice plate of meat and potatoes will make you feel better? ...Wh-what do you mean that’s too heavy?!”
Bond 3 “How strange. I’m still here. Usually I can’t remember where I’ve been or how I got where I am because...because...
...Well anyway, I can’t say it’s bad after all. I’d certainly be worried if one moment I was here with you and the next you left my sight. That-that can get rather scary...”
Bond 4 “... ... ... I can still feel them inside me, you know? ‘The Lady of The Lake’ and ‘The Fairy Witch’. My...other selves.
... Why? Why? WHY? Why do they have to exist? Why are they inside me? It’s not fair! I lost so much to them! So much of my life- Take, STOLEN from me by them! And even worst, they took my home away! I’m Morgause Pendragon, the daughter of Uther Pendragon! I am human! Not a fae! Not a witch! I. Am. HUMAN, ME!
So why can’t they just leave me alone?!”
Bond 5 “... I won’t be here for long. Even if this body were to see the end of your journey, I-I might not be the one in it. I was the first to fade away after all. It’s simply my fate...to be used and discarded by everything I love.
...Even so, I won’t run. As weak as I maybe in comparison to them...I won’t surrender a second of my time with you. With anyone. I’m here now. I am me.”
To Gawain “My son...my darling son. P-please don’t turn away! Please. I-I lost so much time with you. I can’t-I have to. Please, come embrace your mother. Before I’m gone.”
To Gareth “Gareth...my little pup. Look at you, you’ve grown up so much. I bet you had the lords at your beck and call. ... I wish I could have been there for you.”
To Agravain “Oh Agravain. It hurts to see you look at me so. And yet, it’s all my fault. If only I were stronger, if only I could overcome them. My little knight...I’m sorry.”
To Arturia “Arthur-no, Arturia isn’t it? To think I felt so bitter about what our father wanted...when there was so much to lose to that envy. I...I shall take my leave.”
To Mordred “Master, that knight over there?? That...wouldn’t happen to be Sir Mordred correct? ... Yes I assumed so, given her glares at me. Le Fay’s child with my own brother...There’s nothing I can do to help her, is there?”
To Morgan (Lostbelt) “You there, the witch. You have quite the nerve to show your face here. You, who abandoned her humanity for the sake of a kingdom. Your kingdom was a shame and deserved it’s fate. Glare at me all you wish, without the three of us you would be nothing.”
Likes “What do I like? Well, I always liked cooking. It was always such a treat to see my children’s faces light up when I cooked with all my heart!”
Dislikes “...Lake fae and evil witches.”
Holy Grail “Even if it is a heresy, I would like to wish upon it. Then maybe, I can finally be free.”
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Vivian
“Master, come. We have much to do still. ...I know you must be tired, I understand your weariness. But still, we must persist.”
“There’s no need to worry about me. An adventure like this-it is a simple matter. Compared to guiding those troublesome fae...”
“Quiet, quiet, quiet. ...Sorry Master, I was...having some difficulties with...the others. Le Fay especially...”
Bond 1 “So, you have stayed by my side? How strange, most humans simply leave the lakeside after so long.”
Bond 2 “Your heart is weary. There is no point in lying. I know that feeling well myself. Perhaps I have been pushing you too hard. Come, rest. All need reprieve after all.”
Bond 3 “It seems my time has not come yet. Good. I cannot-I will not fade like before. I refuse to let things end like before.”
Bond 4 “It is so tiring. To have their thoughts, their minds inside me. Always, always a reminder. That I am more than the fae ‘Vivian’. The human princess and the raging witch-
...No. No. NO! I am here now! I will be the one to fight! I will be the one to guard the Human Order! I will be the one protect the Age of Man that Father wished for! Not the human Morgause! Not the witch Le Fay!
I am Me, Vivian, The Lady of the Lake!”
Bond 5 “Even though I am the fae Vivian, an existence incompatible with mankind. It was always the humans I loved most of all. The fae, so fickle and cruel. I guided and guarded them out of duty alone.
Why you may ask? Because it was mankind that my father Uther loved. He protected them to his last breath. And so shall I. Even if I may never see the Age of Man, I will protect and guide it. Especially you, my Master. I shall ensure your safety to death and beyond.”
To Lancelot (Berserker) “Master! Th-that figure cloaked in black! I-it can’t be! My son! This is what became of you? ... Who did this?”
To Lancelot (Saber) “I knew it. Of course my son would be here. There was no chance he wouldn’t answer the call to protect mankind. He grew into a splendid knight after all.”
To Mash “This feeling... You there, young lady with the shield. Come forward, let me take a good look. ...It really is, isn’t it? Don’t be scared young lady. I shall never hurt you. Now, come with me. I have much to discuss with you.”
To Fae Servants “*Sigh* It seems there are some troublemakers in this place isn’t there? Worry not Master, I know how to keep them on a tight leash.”
To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ruler of the fae, huh? How pathetic. To have resorted to such evil. I do not care what your excuses are. I lead and guarded the fae myself. I sacrificed my place in the world. I expect no less of you.”
To Arturia (Archer) “How cute, thinking that little spruit is alike to my magic. Here, let me show you what a true Excalibur Vivian can accomplish.”
Likes “Besides mankind? ...I do enjoy watching the forest creatures prance about. The little bugs especially.”
Dislike “Lazy princesses and malevolent witches. That is all I’ll say.”
Holy Grail “It is a false wish granting device isn’t it? Still, if supplied with enough mana, it might just be enough to grant my wish To gain my freedom.”
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Morgan Le Fay
“Careful now, Master. One wrong step and things will certainly go wrong. I know how much fun it is to lose yourself in the throes of battle. Hehehe...But your goal must come first.”
“That fire...that determination. Very well, I’ll join you in the fray. After all, I haven’t nearly indulged enough myself.”
“Your magecraft is rather lackluster isn’t it? Hm, whatever you call your ‘talents’, that doesn’t matter. Practice, practice, practice. Experience breeds excellence. I didn’t match Merlin with pure talent after all.”
Bond 1 “I must say, staying this way at will without being subject to the fickle whims fate...it’s rather nice. Thanks Master.”
Bond 2 “Fate is cruel. I know your pain better than most. Forced into the impossible by the will of others. But don’t let your heart waver. Through will and guile, you will gain your freedom.”
Bond 3 “Don’t hesitate to give me tasks. I find myself with more time than i know what to do with. Preferably with you around...”
Bond 4 “I’m sure you’ve heard about this before but...My other selves are still here. Deep inside, I can still here them. Their woes, their uncertainty, their hatred. All mine...
...Bwahaha! What a joke! As if I would let them trend upon me. It was my loathing that struck fear into Camelot. It was my malice that twisted the Green Knight. It was my love for Britian that allowed me to stomach sharing a bed with that liar. I am no feeble princess or passive fae. I am me, Morgan, the witch that loved Britian!”
Bond 5 “So here we stand still. I’m sure you caught on but I hate the Age of Man. Tearing away all the work I put out, fading everything I’ve done into legend. Acting as though I was never here. For it’s sins, I will always spur it.
So why am I here? Because I would rather have an Age of Man with Britian than not. Be it the destruction of history or man, I will not stand for it. I will rage and hate and burn until all is done. So long as we stand on the same ground, I will be here. I can’t trust the other two to get the job done after all.”
To Mordred “Hm, that defect of a homonculus is here? Master, you are best off sending it away. It’s incapable of following orders or performing tasks sufficiently. I would love to fix it but that’s beyond my reach.”
To Arturia (Alter) “Tch, that liar dares to attach my name to something so weak. She preaches that the strong rule over the weak, shall I teach her who is truly strong then? Gwahaha!”
To Merlin “Ah, Teacher is here too. How unusual, that fickle asshole couldn’t be asked to cut a blade of grass, let alone save humanity. He’s not even really here is he?”
To Fairy Knight Tristan “Master, this annoying brat won’t leave me alone. Acting all familiar and friendly with me... Maybe I’ll teach her what it means to truly be sadistic. Perhaps by rending her limbs asunder...”
To Arturia “So the King of Liars has come as well. Maybe a trip into Hell will teach her the place where she belongs...but that will have to wait, won’t it? She still has her uses after all...”
To Oberon-Vortigern “That mana. Another embodiment of Britian is here?! It feels like that failure Vortigern...yet...it’s so different. I must dissect him, to know!”
To Morgan (Lostbelt) “Ah yes, that other me. Heh, what a fool she turned out to be, no? She rages against man, fae and knights, wasting all her efforts in the process. Focus, my dear. Focus is the key to victory. I did not waste my time with man or fae, I put my all into the slaying of Arturia. And which of us succeeded, hm?”
Likes “A rough night with a man below me, of course.”
Dislikes “My other selves. Unlike them, I will not hide the truth.”
Holy Grail “Hm, I have no need for such a thing. Unlike them, I will not cling to a false hope. It will be my hand that cuts them out like the parasites they are.”
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Bond 10 CE: I Am...?
One minute *I’m* home with my children
One minute ^I’m^ guarding those troublesome fae
One minute -I’m- cackling as I tear into his flesh
The next I’m not.
It is my duty to *lead*/^guard^/-destroy- my kin
No, That is *my*/^my^/-my- duty.
No, it’s *mine*/^mine^/-mine-!
...Is it?
No, I am a *princess*/^guardian^/-witch-!
That is not what *I*/^I^/-I- am!
Stop it! This is who *I*/^I^/-I- am!
I am *me*/^me^/-me-!
I am *Me*/^Me^/-Me-!
I AM *ME*/^ME^/-ME-!
I am...
I...am...
I...
....Who am I?
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To the Stars Who Listen- Part 8
Author: hela-avenger
Word Count: 1789
Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader
A/N: I’ll have a special update on Saturday in celebration of my favorite holiday ever Halloween! I hope you enjoy this part though it was a toughie to write. Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)
TTSWL Masterlist
Loki was surprised when the artificial voice alerted him of your current whereabouts. It hadn’t led him to the pasture you claimed as your outside training area. Instead, Loki was led towards the gymnasium that resided indoors in the building next door.
He finds you seated in the middle of the floor mats. You are tucked into yourself as the gold siphons rested on top of your knees. You stared at the distant unknown very unaware of his presence. It was obvious that something was currently occupying your mind but he had no idea what it could be.
Loki’s curiosity over you makes him desire to know the inner workings of your mind but he was nowhere prepared to start what he expected to be a personal conversation with you. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. It doesn’t matter in the end as you finally snap into focus and turn to look at him.
“Oh, Loki,” you greet as you jump to your feet. “You’re here.”
“Hi, little mortal,” Loki nods in return, deciding to ignore the previous cause of concern for you in preference of remaining distant overall. “Did you practice with your siphons for the day?”
“Yes, I did,” you answer. “Did some target practice with Sam actually. He wanted to practice evading airborne attacks and I needed to practice sending those same attacks.”
“Sounds dangerous,” Loki scowls.
“Well, Wanda was there too just in case things went wrong and nothing did,” you explain. “No falling bodies or unnecessary confessions. I expelled my extensive power for the day and I’m ready for my lesson with you.”
The excitement you had the day before is gone. In fact you seemed a bit hardened and slightly colder.
Something had shifted in you and Loki hated that he was aware enough to notice it.
He is still unsure of how to initiate such an emotional-riddled conversation. It wasn’t exactly a strength of his but he had been at the receiving end of them enough to know the benefits of them. Loki thinks back to his mother and how she pulled him aside for these exact talks.
Perhaps you just needed the same.
Except Loki was nowhere near as experienced or caring as Frigga.
“Is uh… Are you…” Loki stammers out unsure. “Did something…”
You stare at him expectantly and Loki is annoyed at the growing frustration within him.
“What is wrong with you?”
Those were not the words that Loki had wanted to choose and yet they topple out of his mouth so graciously.
You smile though.
It’s not as warm as the one you had offered him previously but it was a smile nonetheless.
“I didn’t realize I was that obvious,” you answer. “Sam and Wanda didn’t even notice.”
“I’m more vigilant than most,” Loki states a bit proudly. “Will your melancholic mood disturb my lesson?”
You start to shake your head and feel a sharp sting run down your spine.
“I take that attempt of a lie as a yes.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Ever since I’ve got this power it’s hard to ignore all of my emotions.”
“The downside of the truth, I’m afraid.”
“I really am sorry, Loki,” you apologize again with a sigh. “I guess we’ll have to postpone my lesson.”
You start to move away and Loki hates himself for speaking up.
“Wait.”
You stop and turn back around surprised to find him perturbed.
“Just…” he hesitates once more. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t think…”
“Everyone, including you, have a tendency of burying their emotions when they don’t want to deal with them,” Loki states. “And it leads to catastrophic results… I should know.”
You watch him closely now making unnecessary connections of his personal experience. Loki clears his throat and continues on.
“Perhaps it's a good thing that you have to face them. Saves you time and energy in the long run.”
You register his words and let out a sigh knowing he was right.
“I guess I’m still stuck on the love spell we did yesterday,” you confess. “I know you were hiding something from me which then reveals the truth you were trying so hard to avoid admitting. The love spell… It didn’t work because my soulmate doesn’t exist.”
Loki regrets initiating the conversation now, but the tension you held in your body is slowly released with every word said.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” you laugh lightly. “With all the glamour and glory we get as heroes, there are a lot of things we sacrifice in order to keep the world safe. We take punches, we bleed, and we… we can’t love without putting them in danger.”
You move to run your hands through your hair but are stopped by the golden gauntlets you wore.
“And I mean… how am I supposed to find someone when I have to wear these 24/7 and I can tell when they lie,” you exclaim. “Love was not in the cards for me. It’s not in the cards for any of us.”
You stare off into the unknown then and your smile fades away.
“We’re not promised happy endings,” you whisper. “Those are reserved solely for fairy tales.”
This cynicism was so unlike you and yet you spoke the unfiltered truth.
“Your friends have found love. I’m sure you can…”
“This isn’t the best time to tell me a lie, Loki,” you interrupt him.
“I’m not lying to you,” Loki argues. “I’m trying to offer you hope.”
You frown at his response. He’s being honest but you still sensed that something was off in his words.
“Hope?”
“Yes,” Loki answers. “Hope.”
He steps towards you and oddly enough you don’t shift away from him like many do. You stare up at him waiting for him to continue.
“It can sometimes feel like a lie,” Loki explains. “Hope is a fickle thing. A hard thing to keep honest since it's based on uncertainty.”
You hum in response as you ponder his words. You watch as Loki waits for you to make up your mind, but something pesters on.
“Why don’t you want to fall in love?”
“Why do you?” Loki spins the question back to you.
You’re both at a standstill waiting for the other to break.
Loki doesn’t. You do.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Loki is surprised at your response and it shows.
“What?”
“I have friends. Great friends,” you correct yourself. “But I can’t help but want more. I want to come home to someone. I want to hold their hand as I tell them about my day and hear about theirs. I want to be challenged and I want them to help me continue to grow as a person. I… I want to do the same for them as they do for me. I just… I just want to matter to someone.”
Loki doesn’t know how to respond but you didn’t expect him to.
“You don’t have to tell me why you don’t want to fall in love,” you whisper. “But maybe you are right… about holding onto hope, I mean. Maybe my soulmate isn’t ready for me yet and that’s ok. I’ll wait until they are. However long it takes.”
You smile at him again and it is filled with warmth once more.
“So your lesson?” you shift the subject. “What is it?”
It takes Loki a second to register the emotional backlash he’s having. The way you shifted from one emotion to another was hard to keep up but Loki followed along with it.
“Right, my lesson,” Loki stammers out. “I want to try something out so bear with me.”
Loki closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He concentrates the little power he still held and extends it outward. Your sharp gasp proves its working and that’s when Loki decides to open his eyes to find his copy standing next to him.
He felt tired and it took most of his concentration to withhold his clone.
“Your power…” Loki breathes out with slight difficulty. “It should allow you to discern which one is the clone and which one is real.”
Your smile widens as you approach him.
“This is amazing. Loki… I…”
“Can you or can you not tell the clone from it’s maker?” Loki grits out.
Noting the sharpness of his tone, you look between the two Loki’s and reach out for the clone. Like a stretched out rubber band, the extended magic snaps back into him at it’s release. Loki staggers back and you are quick to reach for him.
“That took up a lot of your limited power, didn’t it?” you ask him in which he nods. “Then why would you still do it?”
“To test you,” Loki answers. “And I was right, wasn’t I?”
“It wasn’t worth the risk, Loki,” you answer. “You have to take better care of yourself.”
Loki opens his mouth to respond. Most likely an annoyed retort to push you away but you stumble back without prompting.
The room grows colder, but not by your repulsed actions.
No, it had to do with the patch of skin on his wrist that revealed itself blue.
“Loki?”
The dark prince in question pulls his long sleeve down trying to shove down the array of emotions that were threatening to burst out.
“It seems your power can reveal illusion spells as well,” Loki states quietly. “I should have known.”
“Loki,” you call out to him, sensing his incoming retreat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to expose something you weren’t ready for.”
Your sincere apology is real but Loki can’t register it at the moment. He had involuntarily placed himself in a position of weakness which you had taken advantage of.
“I really am sorry.”
Loki takes a step back and averts his stare from you.
“Lesson’s over. We’ll start up again tomorrow.”
Before you can say anything, Loki makes a haste retreat. You wish to follow after him but FRIDAY chooses this time to capture your attention.
“Now that you are free. Mr. Stark sent you a message.”
“Not now, FRIDAY.”
The AI doesn’t register your command as a hologram appears at the nearby wall displaying Tony tinkering away in his lab.
“Hello there, my favorite agent! And please don’t tell anyone I called you that. People will grow jealous. Anyway, this is your favorite Avenger speaking and I am cordially inviting you to the party I’m having this weekend for Halloween. I’m sure Reindeer Games has got you in a tizzy so I thought a break would do you some good. The whole gang is invited so be ready. I’m sending all of you a jet. Study hard, play harder. Iron Man, out!”
TTSWL Tag: @catsladen @is-it-madness @manyfandoms-marvel @mejusttryintogetby @illogicalfangirl @ariel-snow-tmnt @islinglivesinshire @musicconversedance @missmadwoman @smaranshakthi @adaydreamingdragon @poetic-fiasco @like-a-wildfire @jasminecalia @ha-tep @charbokbok @setsuna-meiou31 @ms-blvck @country-cowgirl-101 @bepo-is-sorry @hufflautia @waitforthehurricanrose @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @sanniegirl1214 @telenari @anonymouscastiel12
Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-nightshade @aoirohi @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @just-a-donut-who-reads @day-dreaming-fox @heykathchuu
All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie @ariel-snow-tmnt @badhollandfluff @what-a-flammable-heart
#loki x reader#loki x ofc#loki x you#loki x oc#prince loki x reader#prince loki x ofc#prince loki x you#prince loki x oc#to the stars who listen part 8#ttswl#Prince Loki of Asgard#loki odinson#Loki Laufeyson#marvel au#thor au#loki series#loki fic#loki fanfic#fluff#angst#magic#love spell#practical magic au#reader-insert#reader fic#you fic
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Title: Ride With Me (part 24)
Fandom: Supernatural
Timeline: 2008
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word count: ±9400 words
Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester.
A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.
Summary part 24: John’s presence at the horse show flips Dean’s world upside down, sending him a tailspin that could have serious consequences. Will Y/N and his friends be able to get through to him?
Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief.
Music: How Do You Get ‘Em Back - David Ramirez. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify!
Author’s note: Thank you @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand. Guys, this is going to be a heavy one. 9.3K of angst. If you are invested in this story, I suggest you’ll have the tissues ready before you start reading. Godspeed.
Ride With Me Masterlist
“Hello, son.”
Only two words, but it’s more than Dean has heard his father say in a long while. The simple greeting lingers between them, like smog polluting the air, stealing his breath. A force of habit the cowboy assumed was long forgotten has him square his shoulders. After all, if there’s anything John taught him it's that men can’t be weak.
What does he call him? Dad? Sir? The cowboy isn’t even sure and so he decides to keep his mouth closed. Instead, he measures the man before him. He is but a ghost of the parent Dean remembers - or at least idolized for so long. His boots are dusty and worn, the leather tearing at the creases. His clothes are dirty, stains on the white t-shirt he’s wearing under a camel jacket. He grew a beard, the tough hairs grey now. A black cowboy hat hides most of his slick hair, but they don’t conceal the dark circles under his father’s eyes, nor the tale of pain and sorrow that are still apparent. Nothing has changed, really. He just got older.
Dean can feel his knees weaken as his breaths come out shaky, but he is able to stand his ground. He sets his jaw, gritting away the frustration that continues to build, his fists clenched, nails digging into his palm. But it’s more than just aggravation that courses through him; it’s joined with an overwhelming sense of panic and fear. He wants to run, far away from confrontations and the dull blade that is tearing open old wounds. What he would give to go back in time, just an hour or so, to prevent this moment. What he would give to be able to live the life he naively pictured, with his family, with Y/N.
Meanwhile, John watches him, eyes glossed over and wearing a small smile. “It’s good to see you.”
Still, Dean can’t speak. He just stares at his father. Even the gentle words falling from John’s chapped lips don’t lift the tension. Where Dean was thankful that the stables were empty just a few minutes ago, he now wishes it was swarming with people, because being cut out from the public eye is not a position the cowboy wants his girlfriend to be in. When John steps closer hesitatingly, Dean moves in front of her, one hand back to make sure she stays behind him. It’s instinct, a reaction that is fed by years of doing the same for Sammy. He did everything possible to protect his brother then, and now he has to do the same for her. Dean has to get her out of here. Now.
The cowboy turns his head slightly, addressing Y/N without letting his old man out of his sight. “You should get Joplin warmed up. I’ll be right there.”
“Dean? Are you s--”
“Go,” he insists, wincing at the strict tone of his own voice.
John has halted and watches the exchange, his gaze following the cowgirl who moves to the box on her right and takes off the halter of a black horse inside the stable. Without a word but with concern and confusion evident in her eyes - which flick to his before she averts them quickly - she takes the Quarter by the reins and guides the mare out of the stable. When she’s out of earshot, Dean’s father returns his focus to his son.
“That your girlfriend?” he wonders.
“No,” the wrangler claims, wanting to keep her out of this at all costs. John doesn’t have to know about his relationships with her or with his friends. It will make them vulnerable to his influence. “She’s just an intern,” he adds.
Believing the statement to be true, he dips his chin, nodding slightly, and Dean is able to exhale. At least he got Y/N out of harm’s way, now he just needs to somehow prepare himself to take the fire. It’s been a long time coming, but it’s time to face the faults of the past. He allowed the family to fall apart on that dreadful night when the bond between the Winchesters was shattered to pieces. Dean destroyed it all.
Carefully, his old man moves closer once more, and involuntarily the young cowboy steps back. He doesn’t want to. He intends to stand tall and hold position, but trepidation has him back up before he can stop himself. Apparently aware of the effect he has on Dean, John ceases his attempt to close the unbreachable gap between father and son.
Leaving a safe distance between them, he speaks again. “You’ve grown up to be quite the man, Dean. Your aunt and uncle must have taken good care of you.”
More than you’ve ever done, Dean thinks to himself, but he doesn’t say it out loud, too apprehensive for the reaction it might trigger. “They have.”
“Well, I’m glad,” John smiles at the ground. “I’m glad you landed on your feet. Do you know if Sammy did too?”
Dean’s eyes fill to the brim before he can blink. He doesn’t know. The big brother who was supposed to look out for him, who was supposed to give everything to provide his younger sibling the safety and care that he deserved, doesn’t know. The question is a punch in the gut, a verification of the fact that he has failed Sam like he has failed so many others.
“I don’t,” he admits, doing everything in his power to keep his voice steady. “I haven’t seen him since.”
John sighs, sniffles slightly and glances up, as if he’s mad for a prayer that has been left unanswered. The news does a number on the old guy, and suddenly Dean feels sorry for the man standing before him. His father was already lost when their mother died, and it only got worse when Sam disappeared. The agony it triggered has never left him, just like it never left his son. That loss will always remain, a piece of their heart cut away violently, leaving a hole that bleeds to this day. They both had to settle for a life without Mary and the youngest Winchester in it. As much as Dean wants to hate his father, he simply can’t. He wouldn’t want to wish that kind of torture upon anyone, let alone his dad. It doesn’t matter how many mistakes he has made.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hoped that maybe…” John pauses, shaking his head slightly. “I hoped you boys at least found your way back to each other.”
Dean swallows with difficulty, his bottom lashes barely clinging to the tears that threaten to roll down his face, but he manages to keep it together. He wishes the same, because life without his sibling feels incomplete. God, he misses Sam. And all that guilt, the sorrow, and the uncertainty of his well-being come rushing back to him in a magnitude that he can’t cope with.
John watches his son again, a grown man now, yet still his boy. “I was wondering if maybe we could sit down someday. Have a drink or something, y’know? Try and put this all behind us?”
Astonished, Dean stares at him. A part of him wants to mend this broken relationship, but John must be aware that rekindling the father-son bond will never undo all the trauma their family endured. There’s no going back to how things were, there is no returning to the time the Winchesters were happy. Mom died, and her death set them on a course of total ruination. And yet, Dean can’t answer. He can’t tell his father ‘no’.
“John Winchester!”
Hasty footsteps echo between the stable walls, and when the conflicted cowboy glances past his father, he notices Bobby, moving closer with determined strides. A shuddering sigh of relief escapes Dean, and he’s glad the man opposite of him turns around to face his former brother-in-law so that he doesn’t witness the sign of weakness. With his uncle here, he instantly feels safer, knowing that even if this conversation develops into an argument, he has back-up now.
The elder man holds a fury in his eyes that is visible even in the shadows of the worn ball cap he always wears. “You better walk away,” he warns.
“We were just talkin’,” John assures, calmly.
“I don’t care if you are holding a family reunion,” Bobby sneers. “If you don’t leave right now, I will get my gun and blast your sorry ass so full of buckshot that you will never sit in a saddle again without scratching the leather.”
Dean’s gaze bounces between his father and his uncle, weary of the clash that is about to kick off, as the two older men keep their eyes locked on each other, tension rising by the second. But then, against his expectations, John gives in to Bobby’s request and steps aside. He glances back at his son one last time, giving him a sad smile, before he breaks away and strolls off, shoulders slumped and defeat obvious.
Collecting himself by taking a breath and blowing it out as slowly as he can, the younger cowboy makes eye contact with his uncle, who approaches him until he’s in arm’s reach. He puts his hand on the back of Dean’s neck, gently encouraging the troubled young man to look at him, hoping the touch will ground his nephew.
“You alright?” Bobby asks, the lines in his forehead deepening as he frowns.
Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, his lips pressed together in a firm line. He can’t speak and has to break away from his uncle’s observant gaze. Bobby’s grip loosens; he’s aware that Dean isn’t ready to expose his true feelings about this unfortunate run-in.
“I’m gonna make sure he leaves the premises,” he assures.
With those words, the man - who once again has provided him safety - turns away to follow John, committed to matching action with his words if the guy doesn’t take his threat seriously.
Finally alone, the unsettled cowboy tries to inhale again, but his diaphragm seems to have risen to chest height. He can feel anxiety like he has never experienced before in his adult life get a grip on him, and whatever he tries, he can’t stop it. Afraid that his legs might give way, he takes a step to the side and holds on to one of the stable bars, but he still can’t breathe. Unable to hold the frontline in the battle he’s fighting with the overwhelming sense of distress, the tears break through his defense, spilling down his cheeks. Suddenly, he feels sick. He needs to get out, he needs fresh air.
Feeling the bile creeping up from deep inside him as he stumbles outside, he quickly turns the corner behind the tent before he heaves this morning’s partly digested breakfast into the grass. He throws up everything he has been holding, hoping the anguish will leave his body as well, but it doesn’t. When his stomach is empty, he is still left with the same misery.
“Fuck,” he chokes out, steadying himself against the steel corner pillar of the stable.
He wipes at his runny nose and his tears, sniffling. Get a hold of yourself, Dean, he lectures, you need to keep it together now. He straightens his back, looking down at the mess he made, closing his eyes for a second as he pulls in a careful breath.
“Dean?”
Recognizing his friend’s voice, the cowboy turns around. Benny stands behind him, worry in his clear blue eyes. Manning up and finding his footing again, Dean walks up to meet him. The Southerner hands him a bottle of water, and even though the receiver is thankful for having something to rinse his mouth with, he wishes it to be something a whole lot stronger.
Taking a swig, he lets it wash away the sour taste before he spits it onto the ground. After another attempt he realizes that it’s no use and takes a careful sip this time, swallowing it down to put out the fire inside his chest. He glances at Benny, giving him a nod.
“I - I’m good,” he says, not just trying to convince his companion. “I’m good.”
Knowing him well, his best friend doesn’t contradict him, even though it’s clear as day the statement is far from the truth. Dean’s eyes are bloodshot, his hand trembling when he moves the bottle to his mouth.
“You might wanna get to the warm-up,” Benny reminds him, handing him the headset.
The wrangler grimaces. “Shit, yeah. What time is it?”
“Two-thirty. Her starting time is in twenty-five minutes,” the Southerner says.
“I gotta get goin’,” Dean realizes after cursing again, moving past him to make his way to the arena. He holds up the water bottle as he jogs away. “Thanks.”
Hoping his friend will understand that he’s thanking him for a lot more than just the drink, he hastens away. Right now, he has someone else who needs his support. Y/N has left the stables well over fifteen minutes ago, so he hopes she’s not nervous because of his late arrival. When he finally reaches the fence, he spots her amongst the other riders, warming up Joplin. He can tell she’s focused, or is she upset with him for not being on time? Finding it hard to read her from a distance, he sums it up to a mixture of both. Without disturbing the other competitors, he bends down to duck under the barrier, approaching her and her horse. But when she ignores him completely and continues to work the Quarter on a small circle, he hesitates.
“Y/N?” he calls out, not sure if she saw him from inside her bubble.
“What?” she snaps.
Taken aback by her reaction, he watches how she keeps circling, slowing down to a walk, but still not stopping to take the headset or even grant him a look.
“C’mon, let me help you,” he ushers, holding up the device for her.
But when she looks him in the eye, the coldness they behold frightens him. “Why do you even care?” she wonders. “I’m ‘just an intern’ anyway.”
Like she just slapped him across the face, Dean stares at the cowgirl, the daggers she’s shooting at him with her powerful gaze stabbing him right in the heart. No no no, he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes. She wasn’t supposed to hear him say that to his father. He labeled her as an intern only to make sure John wouldn’t be able to get to Dean through his girlfriend. Of course he didn’t mean a word of it! He has to make her understand.
“Yankee, I’m sorry. I--”
“Forget it, Dean. I can handle myself,” she snarls. “Leave me alone.”
With that, she moves away from her boyfriend, riding Joplin to the other side of the warm-up ring, as far from him as possible. Regretful, her trainer saunters back towards the fence, making his way out of the ring. When he straightens himself, he is met by Jo, who has her arms crossed in front of her chest as she narrows her eyes at her cousin. It’s clear as day that she’s about to rip him a new one as well.
“What did you do?” she demands to know, sternly.
Dean looks at her, opening his mouth to answer, but unable to even utter a word. I fucked up, that’s what I did, he realizes. Like he has fucked up everything else that was ever good in his life. He doesn’t reply, though, and instead shakes his head, admitting his loss.
“Here.” Dean hands her the small device with a microphone attached to it, his fingers still trembling. “Help her if she needs assistance, alright?”
Perplexed, she watches him walk off. She at least expected a counter with a claim that he didn’t do anything wrong.
“You’re not gonna even watch her ride?” she asks before he’s too far gone.
“I’ll watch from the bleachers. I don’t wanna distract her,” he returns, sadly looking into her eyes before he carries on.
Observing her cousin, an uneasy feeling settles in her stomach. The guilt is oozing from him in great amounts as he disappears in the crowd, his head hanging, the usual upbeat attitude nowhere to be found. What has gotten into him? Something must have happened, something bad. She can’t recall the last time she has seen him this troubled, not since… Jo’s eyes grow a little larger, her brows that were knitted together a moment ago now rising. Suddenly it dawns on her; she hasn’t seen him so thrown into disarray since he arrived at the ranch at fourteen years of age. She might have been only eight at the time, but those memories lingered. The sight of a kid so scared, so depressed, and so broken left an impression. Even as a little girl she knew he had been through hell, and by the looks of her cousin now, it seems like those dark days are catching up with him.
Jo wants to go after the poor guy, but she knows she can’t abandon her best friend. When the steward calls out Y/N’s name, announcing she’s up next, she focuses on the rider again. Right now she is her main priority, because whatever happened between the intern and the wrangler, Jo knows she’s Dean’s priority too.
“Ready?” she checks while quickly drying Joplin with a towel before they head towards the gate.
“Yeah, I am,” Y/N assures, pushing Dean from her thoughts.
“Remember that it’s fine to pick your first cow from the side of the herd, okay? Don’t set the bar too high. It’s your first time,” the blonde cowgirl offers.
“I know,” she assures, even though she’s not planning on playing it safe.
The frustration has morphed into determination, a strong will to prove that she can manage just fine and that Bobby has every reason to dote on her. She much rather feels aggravated than insecure, so she allows the anger to flood the worry, shutting out her usual insecurity. She’s not going to let anyone down, especially not herself.
Concentrated, she goes to the gate, eye for the prize. Joplin already has her ears perked towards the cattle, knowing it’s game time. The clock starts to tick, and with confidence, she guides Joplin through the group of heifers, picking one dead in the middle to single out.
She doesn’t know Dean is watching from the sidelines, and intense sadness filling his soul. She doesn’t know how proud he is when she makes two amazing cuts and she scores 73 points, outclassing him. She doesn’t know that he’s very much aware that his girl doesn’t need him anymore.
Swift strokes brush the dirt out of Joplin’s dark coat. Dust particles dance in the air, illuminated by the orange rays of the setting sun that fall through the window of the stable. The mare allows the pampering, on hindleg resting on its toe, her head hanging low. Big, brown eyes are half closed, falling shut every once in a while. Sleep almost taking the normally feisty horse, the grooming having a relaxing effect on her. It’s almost as if she realizes she’s about to go on a new adventure, and she’s taking this moment to recharge after her run.
Jody has matched Joplin with a great family. A sixteen-year-old girl will be riding her. The teenager and her parents came to meet her new horse right after the great performance, absolutely beaming, knowing this wonderful animal was now theirs. In about fifteen minutes, Joplin’s new owners will be here to take her to their farm in Alamo, New Mexico. The family promised to give the Quarter a forever home, and they showed Y/N pictures of the beautiful barn where the little dark horse is going to live. She’s going to a good place, but the farewell remains bittersweet.
Once the Joplin is thoroughly cleaned, her rider takes her by the halter, raking her fingers through her mane. Y/N has never been good at saying goodbye, but it’s time now.
“Be good, okay?” she whispers, letting her hands gently run down the horse’s neck. “And don’t pin your ears back too much. People are gonna think you’re mean, but I know you’re a softy.”
Joplin breathes out a sigh through her nose as if answering the person who has been her companion for the past month. It’s peculiar how fast a bond between human and animal can form. There has been a connection between them since the first time Y/N saddled her up for a trail. The thought of buying the beautiful Quarter herself has crossed the cowgirl’s mind ever since she learned Bobby planned to sell her, but no matter how difficult, this is also an aspect of the business that she needs to get used to. When she will finally have her own stables in a year's time, horses will come and go. She can’t keep every one of them, and so she needs to set Joplin free.
Judging by the hollow sounds under the tent’s roof, the new owners are on their way. She can distinguish Jody’s voice, and Bobby’s too. A girl with long, brown hair and bright eyes peers over the stable door, already glancing at the beautiful horse lovingly.
“I bought her new transport boots,” she announces enthusiastically. “Wouldn’t want her to get hurt on the trailer. I also got a rug for when it gets a little colder during the night. Do you think she will like that?”
The teenager holds up a red, woolen rug, which matches the leg protection perfectly. Y/N chuckles at the sight. Joplin is going to get so spoiled.
“Those look amazing.” She reaches for one of the boots. “Here, let me help.”
They strap on the protective wear together while Bobby, Jody, and the parents close the deal on the other side of the alleyway. After the money is counted, the ranch owner hands over the horse’s passport together with a certificate of ownership, shaking their hands once more. Y/N waits for her boss to look her way, wondering if he - as owner - should give Joplin away, but the old man gives her a friendly nod, telling her without words that she will have the honor.
“Well, I guess this is it,” she says, fumbling with the leadrope. “She’s yours now.”
“Thank you,” the young cowgirl returns. “We will take good care of her. Promise.”
Not trusting her voice, the Y/N smiles warmly, but there isn’t a doubt in her mind that the family will. She doesn’t want to get emotional, it wouldn’t be professional after all. And so she does her very best to blink the mist from her eyes when she offers the leadrope, handing over Joplin to her new owner.
The family who just gained an additional member exits the stables, heading to the trailers to start their journey home. The rider, the trader, and the rancher watch them leave, all with smiles on their faces. Everyone involved in this sale wins. Y/N can’t help it, though, and has to wipe a lonely tear from her cheek. Jody, who notices, wraps an arm around her shoulder, sheltering and comforting.
“Sorry,” the cowgirl excuses, a little embarrassed.
“Don’t be sorry, honey,” she dismisses sweetly. “Caring matters, especially when money comes into play. Someone who cares has far better judgment than someone who’s greedy. Remember that.”
Y/N smiles at the wise words, storing that piece of advice with all the others she has picked up along the way.
“Pretty good ride,” Bobby compliments his intern, in his own way trying to cheer her up. “Especially at your first cutting class.”
Jody glances aside at the ranch owner, not impressed with his choice of words, before pulling the cowgirl closer into a side hug. “Pretty good? Are you kidding me? You absolutely slayed it! If you’re not giving that girl a rider’s fee, I will.”
“Oh, that’s really not necessary,” Y/N objects.
“No, you deserve it,” he insists while leafing through the hundred dollar bills in a large envelope.
“Bobby, it’s okay. I am already super grateful for everything I’m learning and the experiences that I’m gaining. You have already given me a room and a stable, not to mention Ellen’s cooking. You really don’t have to pay me.”
Y/N shortly places her hand on her boss’s to seize his actions, wanting him to stop counting. The Gold Canyon Ranch might have made good money over the past three days, yet that doesn’t mean a financial disaster is avoided. She doesn’t want a share.
The old man holds her gaze and she can tell he’s wondering if either Dean or Jo have spilled a little too much information. Maybe it is because of that assumption that he settles and lets it go.
“At least lemme buy you a drink, huh?” he offers before he turns to his business partner. “I just have to round a few things up with Jody here.”
“Alright, see you in a bit,” Y/N returns.
As the two business partners walk off to look for a private place where Bobby can give the woman who has made the sale possible her commissioner’s fee, the cowgirl slips into the tack room. She decides to start packing, since the crew presumingly will leave in a couple of hours. She has to keep busy, but Dean breaks into thoughts straight away. Sighing deeply, the cowgirl tries to wrap her head around her boyfriend’s reasoning. His words, which had her freeze to the ground for a second as she left him with his father, still ring in her ears. She’s just an intern. Why would he say such a thing? Why hadn’t he expressed that she is his girlfriend? Why did he never mention his father to her? And if he isn’t even able to talk to her about his family, what else is he hiding?
Her train of thought is interrupted by Jo, who hastily rushes around the corner, her restless eyes searching the tack room before she checks the stables.
“Have you seen Dean?” she asks, concerned.
“No,” Y/N bitterly answers.
“Okay, enough.” Jo places her hands on her hips, shifting her weight to one leg. “What the hell is going on with you two?”
“You tell me,” her friend responds coldly. “I was under the impression we were doing just fine until Dean wasn’t even able to introduce me. Clearly, I value our relationship more than he does.”
“What are you talking about? He’s crazy about you,” the blonde cowgirl reminds her.
“Is he?” Y/N spins on her heels, finally looking her in the eye. “Because for someone who claims to care about me, he sure keeps an awful lot of secrets.”
Jo sighs. “Look, I know Dean isn’t the guy who’s very chatty about those kinds of things, but what makes you say that he doesn’t care?”
“Because he couldn’t even tell his family - who he failed to tell me about, by the way - that I’m his girlfriend! He told his father that I am just an int--”
“Whoa whoa, wait. His father?” Her best friend stares at her bug-eyed, needing a moment to process the information. “His father is here?!”
“Yeah, he showed up in the stables earlier to visit him, before I got on Joplin,” she confirms, somewhat confused by her shocked expression.
Jo steps towards the intern, grabbing both her shoulders and looking at her intensely. “Are you absolutely sure?”
Y/N shrugs a little, not understanding the earnesty. “He looked a lot like Dean, and he called him his son, so I’m assuming.”
Her best friend just gapes at her, her cousin’s demeanor by the warm-up ring suddenly making much more sense. If he had an encounter with his father, his entire world just got turned upside down. Judging by how messed up he was when his only living parent left him to rot when he was still a child, she can only imagine what his return after all that time has set in motion.
“We need to find Dean, now,” she says, grabbing her friend by the wrist and pulling her out of the tack room. “I’ll explain along the way.”
Unsettled, Y/N fastens her pace to jog next to the ranch owner’s daughter. “Jo, what’s going on?”
“Dean didn’t lie to you when he said that he hadn’t seen his family in a while. In fact, the two haven’t been in contact for fifteen years,” she explains as they exit the stables.
Stunned by the revelation, the cowgirl next to her tries to make sense of it all. Fifteen years? Why would he have cut all ties with his dad for fifteen years? She can’t possibly imagine doing such a thing. Something horrible must have happened, something beyond comprehension.
“That still doesn’t explain why he described me as anything else but his girlfriend,” Y/N brings up.
“Listen, you don’t know John. He is a manipulative son of a bitch who has played dirty mind games before. If Dean let on that you were just someone working at the ranch, he was trying to protect you.”
Y/N stops dead in her tracks, her hand which is still entwined with Jo’s causing her friend to spin around. “He w - what?”
“You need to talk to him,” her friend insists, dragging her into motion again. “My guess is that he found a place to be alone or he’s liquoring up. Either way, your man is spiraling out of control and he's gonna need his girl in order to get out of that vicious circle.”
“He - he won’t talk to me,” she stammers. “Not after how I was with him before my run. God, I can’t believe I was so self-absorbed. I thought he didn’t want me there because he was embarrassed of me, and you’re telling me he was making sure I was safe?”
Jo wishes her companion wouldn’t put herself down like that, because the blonde cowgirl honestly gets why she reacted the way she did, being unaware of the family drama. She never thought the day would come, but here she is, defending her cousin’s honor.
“Like I said; he’s crazy about you, Sis. He has never been like this with somebody else, so if there’s anyone who can through to him it’s you. He might try to--”
“- push me away, I know. That’s kind of his thing. I won’t let him,” Y/N promises.
Jo nods at that, glad she was able to convince her. “Good, now we just have to find him.”
They arrive at the square where all the shops are situated, most of the stand holders packing their unsold products into cars and onto trailers. The sun has disappeared behind the horizon, the skies painted with red. There are a few people around, music coming from the tent further up where the after-party is in full swing. They meet Benny at the crossing, though, who is looking for his friend as well.
“Have you seen him?” Y/N asks the farrier, who has the same worried frown on his face as the girls.
“I tried the trailers, but no luck,” Benny says. “Stables?”
But she shakes her head. “We were just there.”
The three glance aside when a group of young guys stumbles out of the tent, alternated colored beams in their wake, coming from the disco lights inside. The concern that has Jo’s intestines in knots worsens, because if Dean has hit the bar, reasoning with him is going to be problematic.
Y/N enters the tent, backed up by the other two members of the Gold Canyon Ranch. The band plays a happy, upbeat country song that contradicts the alarming anxiety and dread that is riding her nerves like a racetrack. Frantically, she looks around, trying to identify her boyfriend amongst the crowd. She doesn’t see him in the booths on her right, nor around the dancefloor which she and Dean owned two nights prior. Once she convinces him that she understands why he said those things and that he did nothing wrong, she can wrap her arms around him again, comfort him with a kiss and ask him for another dance. He can continue to be the wonderful, supportive boyfriend, making her laugh and making her smile, lifting her up and making her feel appreciated. They can go back to how things were.
Trying to convince herself that everything is going to be fine, she moves through the mass of people towards the beer taps, when she stops suddenly, the wind being knocked from her lungs by the sight in front of her. At the end of the bar, she finds Dean. Not nursing a beer, sad and alone like she expected to find him, but in company of the same girl who was all over him on Friday night as well; Jamie. The cowboy, already intoxicated, leaning into her when the blonde whispers something in his ear, touching his arm as she does. A blind man would be able to see the chemistry, their conversation easy and carefree. The beautiful girl seated on the stool next to her boyfriend doesn’t show a sign of insecurity, her cheerful and confident personality matching Dean’s perfectly. She is everything Y/N isn’t.
Unable to move, she watches the film play out before her, a story of fun and romance that will push her story with Dean to a tragic end. Tears begin to fill her eyes, her breath hitching in her throat. A part of her hopes that he will turn around and see the devastation that his actions are causing, but he doesn’t, occupied by the gorgeous old flame which seems to have ignited something new. He doesn’t even see me, she realizes. He doesn’t see her, because once again it has been made perfectly clear she’s not worth holding on to. That has always been the case whenever it came to love, hasn’t it? So why on earth did she think that with Dean it was going to be any different? And just like that, she’s back to being invisible again.
Abruptly, Y/N turns around, desperately needing to get out of the buzzing atmosphere, but she collides with Jo the second she does.
“Woah! Where are you--” Jo steadies her friend when she almost falls over, holding her by her arms. Stunned, she stares into her eyes, noticing how they are glazed over with absolute heartbreak. “What’s going on?”
But Y/N just shakes her head, moving past her hastily; she can’t stay here a second longer. The upset girl struggles towards the exit and ignores Benny, who watches her departure, perplexed. When he straightens himself again, he glances at Jo, as much confusion on his features as on hers. But when his focus locks on his buddy at the bar, his face falls.
“That son of a bitch,” he mutters, his remark triggering the blonde cowgirl before him to turn around as well.
Jo’s jaw falls slack, observing as the two order another round of shots. She can’t believe what she’s seeing. She can’t believe she’s witnessing the man who she thought had made a change for the better, now making a turn for the worse. Frustration boils inside of the petite yet feisty woman, who is biting down hard on her bottom lip when she faces Benny again.
“You talk some sense into him before he really crosses the line,” she directs. “I’m gonna go after Y/N and see if I can repair the damage.”
The broad-shouldered wrangler nods and watches Jo take off before he goes in the other direction. He pushes through the mass of people who are enjoying the last party of the event, all oblivious to the dramatic scene they are all a part of. He senses that the drama might become a whole lot worse if he doesn’t manage to pull Dean’s head off his ass.
“What do you think you’re doin’, brother?” Benny claps his hand on his friend’s shoulder, interrupting him before he downs the shot waiting for him on the bar.
He scoffs. “What does it look like?”
“Seems to me you’re about to get a lil’ too friendly with a gal that ain’t yours,” the farrier says with a lowered voice, hoping it will enlighten him.
“We’re just having a drink,” Dean counters, annoyed, reaching for the glass in front of him, but Benny pushes it out of reach.
“Do you think that’s what Y/N saw too when she was here just now?”
Now he does get the cowboy’s attention, common sense finally pushing to the forefront. “She was here?” he questions, dumbfounded.
“Yep, and you’ve got somethin’ to fix. Let’s go,” Benny suggests, his large hand flat on his companion’s back calmly pushing him off the chair and onto his feet, both men giving Jamie a short nod before they leave the party.
The fresh air slaps Dean in the face when he exits the tent, sobering him up enough to realize how bad he screwed up. He knew it was a horrible idea to do the one thing his dad always did when the pain got too much to bear; hit the alcohol and drown his sorrow. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? No matter how hard he fights, no matter how different he aspires to be, he will always be just like his father. The same ego-centric, selfish and spineless dick that breaks everything he touches.
When the two men stop in the middle of the square, Benny looks around, trying to find the girls. He doesn’t spot them sitting at any of the outside tables, nor by the restrooms.
“It don’t matter, I already fucked it up anyway,” Dean mutters when his friend glances between the market shops.
The farrier pauses his search and gazes at him superciliously through half-lidded eyes. “No disrespect, Chief, but what the hell is wrong with you?”
“You really want me to get started on that list? Because if so, we’re gonna be here for a while,” the wrangler returns snarky, avoiding his friend’s blue eyes, taking a few steps away with his hands on his hips.
“John showing up here is not y—”
“Don’t!” Dean interrupts with venom in his voice, spinning around and pointing a firm finger at Benny. “Don’t you dare bring up my father.”
He’s trembling, the anger that ran in John’s blood for years now raging through his veins. Fire sets alight his insides, flames dancing in his pupils that glare at his comrade warningly. The Southerner takes a tentative step towards him, realizing he needs to get through to Dean, but has to handle the subject as carefully as possible.
“You are not him. I know this,” he speaks slow. “I know you love Y/N, too.”
But Dean scoffs and shakes his head, not just denying that he does, but refusing to allow himself that kind of fulfillment. He was stupid to even think that he ever had a chance with her. It was just a matter of time before it all would come crashing down on him, ruining everything that he never deserved in the first place. He can’t love her, because if he does, she will fall victim to him, just like he did to his dad.
“Listen, brother. You’re not seein’ straight right now, but you can still make this right,” Benny continues. “You care too much about her to just throw in the towel. Remember when she first came to the ranch? You were smitten the second she walked through those doors. You called dibs on her for a reason.”
The cowboy’s shoulders rise as he inhales deeply and fall again when he blows out a breath. Of course he remembers. He remembers the first time he laid eyes on her over his poker cards, how she responded to him from across the saloon. He remembers how she gave him a run for his money when he came on too strong. He remembers how he panicked when she didn’t seem interested and the idea of her being with someone else had him strike an agreement with his best mate. He remembers the rides, their first kiss, the moment i--
“You called dibs on me?”
Stunned by the unexpected voice, both men turn to where it came from. Benny gulps thickly when he notices Y/N stepping from under the awning of one of the food trucks, Jo in her shadow. Even in the dim glow from the overhanging strings of lightbulbs, he can see her eyes shimmer with despair.
“Y/N, it ain’t as bad as it s--”
But the cowgirl cuts him off immediately, shooting Benny a glare. “You can stop with the Southern smooth talk. I need to talk to Dean alone.”
After exchanging looks over the course of several uncomfortable seconds, both Benny and Jo step aside, sauntering away from the couple. Once their friends have disappeared behind one of the trailers, Y/N returns her focus to her boyfriend again, her judgemental stare boring into his soul.
“I asked you a question,” she repeats, managing to prevent her voice from trembling. “Did you make some kind of pact with your buddies?”
Dean doesn’t answer, but he sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. He lifts his eyes from the ground for a moment, glancing over before he averts them again. The woman standing a few feet away from him chuckles cynically; she knows enough.
“So what, women are like cattle to you? This is a funny bet?”
The cowboy frustratingly shakes his head once. “You know it’s not.”
“Do I?!” Y/N returns, her tone sharper and higher than anticipated. “Because if this isn’t just a game, then why did you shove me aside for some blonde broad--”
“For fuck’s sake, we were just having a drink! We had this argument already!” Dean snaps, throwing his arms to the side.
Taken aback by the hostility, Y/N stares at him. She has seen this anger before, but just a glimpse of it. It was when Ash lost his job and blamed them, in particular Dean, who took the acquisitions hard. That evening it was mostly guilt that triggered the cowboy to lash out to her and the second he realized he had upset her, he apologized. But now an apology doesn’t even seem to cross his mind that is clouded by darkness far greater. At this point, she’s not sure if she would be able to accept it anyway.
“Well, it didn’t make much of a difference, now did it?” she returns after using the dreadful silence to recover.
“Apparently not,” Dean scoffs, shifting his unfocused gaze aside.
Mulling over the chain of events that have led to this moment, he swallows with difficulty, indignation taking off the heat for a bit, stopping it from boiling over. The calm gives Y/N enough courage to step closer.
“Dean, I know today was a whirlwind. I know - I’m aware that what happened in the stables earlier has sent you into a tailspin,” she sympathizes, careful not to mention his father after witnessing his outburst with Benny when he did, “but this isn’t you.”
The disheartened guy before her huffs again, sardonic and hopeless. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Because it’s exactly who he is. This is who he was always destined to be. It’s how he was raised, it’s in his DNA. For two months he allowed himself to hope that maybe he could change, that maybe he could be better than the poor excuse of a man his father was. Y/N gave him that pipe dream, and even though it’s unreasonable to be upset with her for seeing the good in him, it’s amongst one of the many frustrations he’s experiencing.
“It is. This -” Dean points at himself, his upper lip twitching with disgust. “- this is who I am.”
She shakes her head, not ready to give up. “It’s not. You are kind, loving, your heart is--”
“You don’t know me!” He exclaims, running a hand through his hair and trapping the light-brown locks between his fingers before he gestures wildly. “You think you do, but you don’t have a fucking clue! I haven’t told you anything about my life--”
“Then talk to me!” Y/N yells back as he turns away from her.
“I CAN’T!!”
Dean is facing her again, vexation flaring in his emerald green eyes. His heart beats so vigorously that it has his entire body pulsating. He takes her in, the beautiful young woman who he fell for, and he can see that her hope is fading. It pains him to hurt her, but he’s left with no choice. Being angry with him will make things easier, though. It will help her move on. If she is going to feel sorry for him, the pity would only prompt the caring girl to hold on and try to piece the shattered shards back together, and he can’t let that happen, simply because it’s useless. He refuses to take her down with him, to burden her with the same demons that he has to live with. He can’t do that to her, not to the one he loves. She’s way too good for him, so pure, so selfless and gentle. She’s everything he shouldn’t have, everything he isn’t worthy of. It’s better this way, it’s better to end it now.
“I can’t. Who you think I am, it’s not me. I’ve been lying to you, pretending. I can’t be the person you need me to be,” he claims, calmer now that he knows what he has to do.
Y/N’s breathing picks up slightly, the air leaving her with a shudder each time. His words seem so definite already, but he can’t possibly believe that they are not right for each other, can he? All those moments they shared, all the affection he offered; that was real. That was him. Why can’t he see he’s exactly the man she needs?
“And what person is that?” she questions, hoping that whatever argument he fires back, she can turn around.
Dean is quiet for a few seconds, thinking about a fitting answer. The profound fondness he feels for her begins to resurface and it’s tearing him apart. She needs to understand that the fairytale they have been living is a facade he can’t continue to maintain. Dreams never last forever, this is where they wake up.
“You need a guy who is honest, who you can trust. Look at us; I can’t even bring myself to tell you about my family, my past, or anything for that matter,” he reminds her.
“I knew what I was in for, Dean. I don’t expect you to spill every dark secret you think you have. You don’t have to spell out everything to be with me. We can work it out!” she argues desperately.
But the cowboy shakes his head, feeling the sorrow brim in his eyes. He wants her to be right so bad, but he knows he can’t live a lie.
“You don’t get it, okay? I’m a fucking mess. I did things that are unforgivable. I don’t have my shit together, but you do,” he says, a sad smile barely pulling at the corner of his mouth. “You know exactly where you wanna go in life, what you want to achieve.”
She steps closer, praying that if he lets her, she can eventually bridge the space between them.
“We can do that together,” she pleads with all the hope she has left.
“We can’t,” he returns, having gathered every bit of strength to look at her before he pronounces the words who he knows are the truth. “This isn’t gonna work.”
The tears that have gathered become too much even for a dam to withhold roll down her cheeks now. An already unbearable ache gets worse, her heart physically hurting and taking up so much space that Y/N feels like she can’t breathe. He can’t be doing this. He can’t pull the plug, not after all the epic moments they shared. Every warm look, every gentle touch, every loving kiss; every blissful memory. How can he possibly let go of that?
Refusal has her reach out to him, one last attempt to repair what is already broken. “Dean, stop… Why are you hurting me like this?” she cries.
The cowboy drops his gaze while fighting the tears and the grief for what he’s losing. He wants to reach out too, take her hand in his, but he can’t cave now, he can’t be selfish. He has to do this for her.
“Because if I don’t, if I allow this to go any further, it’s gonna hurt a lot more.”
Dean fixates on anything but Y/N, no longer able to endure the sight of her falling apart in front of him. It’s dreadfully quiet as if the world stopped turning, and in a way, for the two individuals in the middle of the square, it just did.
“So - so what? This is it?” she stammers, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re breaking up with me?”
Biting his lip now, he focuses on what this decision will offer the woman at arm’s reach. An uncomplicated life in which she can pursue her dreams without having to worry about someone dragging her down. She can be free to do whatever she wishes and that’s all he can ask for. But in order to provide her with that opportunity, he has to let her go.
“Yeah. We’re over.”
Like a bullet fired from a gun, the defining words rip through her chest and pierce her heart. The silence after the shot is deafening, canceling out the sounds of their surroundings. The streaming pathways of desolation gather at the end of her chin and drip down on the dry soil, enough to darken the dust. Her eyes are glued on him, though, but he doesn’t return her gaze. The conclusion of their relationship sinks in with every passing second, leaving her soul in ruins. It’s over. They are over. And there is nothing she can do to change the course of history.
Unable to be in his presence, she forces her feet to move, turning away from the man she is no longer with. Dean can’t watch her leave, fixed on the dark earth where her tears fell just moments ago. From his peripheral vision, he notices Jo rushing by to go after her friend. Good, he thinks to himself, she’ll have someone to lean on.
After standing there for what feels like an hour, he takes a few hesitant steps towards one of the trailers, placing both hands flat on the metal, searching for something to ground him while he closes his eyes and lets his head hang. He can’t find it, though, not in the cold steel, not in his reasoning behind this brutal decision. The resentment builds again, and Dean pulls his right hand back, balls his fist, and almost puts a dent into the barrier before him. The action only confirms what he deep down knew to be true all along. All that rage, the self-hatred; he can’t bottle it up forever, so it’s for the best that Y/N will no longer be there to witness it.
Dean bends his elbows, his forearms now pressed against the iron and his forehead resting between his clenching fists, as he struggles to pull in a shaky breath. He feels like he’s imploding, the outer frame of his structure caving in on itself. His mouth falls open, his bottom lip trembling, then he allows the tears to cascade down his face.
He can sense Benny by his side, but Dean is too wrapped up in his own destruction to really acknowledge him. The comforting hand on his shoulder is a touch he barely registers, his body is already rebuilding its emotional walls, caging away his ability to feel and casting it in a permanent shadow. That’s where it will remain, encapsulated in darkness, cut out from the light that his girl had to give. Benny stays by his side, though, letting him know that he is there for his friend, as much as Jo is there for hers.
“Sis, wait,” the ranch owner’s daughter tries desperately, following the woman who just had her heart broken into the stables.
Her request remains unanswered, Y/N only stopping when she has reached Meadow’s box, her hands shaking while she tries to unlock the door. When she’s unable to, Jo quickly steps in and opens the gate, holding it for her companion. The bay horse has lifted her head, alerted by the commotion in the alley, but clearly recognizes the person stepping inside. She seems confused by her owner’s frail state of mind, though, pricked ears and concerned eyes taking in the situation.
The cowgirl folds an arm around Meadow’s neck while she buries her face in the Quarter’s brown coat, then she breaks. She breaks into a million segments, lost in the mixture of wood shavings and straw underneath their feet. The air is too thin to breathe and sobs wreck her entire form.
Never in her life has she felt so unwanted, purposeless, and vulnerable as she’s feeling now. Dean let her in and she trusted him to handle her with grace, yet the second she was comfortable with this new way of being, he pushed her out. She thought she knew the man she felt such a strong connection with. Yes, she realized very early on that it was going to be difficult to get through to him. The soldier with thick armor had stacked the barricades high, but that never intimidated her. After all, she had climbed mountains before.
She gave Dean her all, but in the end, it turns out it was useless. Y/N isn’t even sure what’s real and what’s not, if the cowboy has been wearing a mask all along, or just now turned into someone that he isn’t. It doesn’t matter, though. He has made himself perfectly clear; she is not the girl he wants to be with.
The only one stopping her from collapsing is Meadow, who holds still like a statue, aware that if she moves, her owner will fall to the ground and might never be able to get up again. The horse senses exactly how to handle Y/N, the usually so spirited mare now timid and calm, picking up on the despairing energy.
Jo, who had silently slipped into the tack box to get a bottle of water and some tissues, comes back into the stable, tearing up at the sight of the two who have such a strong bond. The thousand-pound animal has curved her neck around her human, resting her large head on the cowgirl’s shoulder. As if trying to comfort her, Meadow twitches her lips, gently rubbing them against her owner’s back, her way of showing affection. People can be cruel sometimes, to others, to horses. Jo has witnessed it, and she knows Dean has too, which has ultimately led to his dreadful decision to cut Y/N loose, and by doing so he has hurt her in terrible ways himself. But at least the girl has her horse.
Meadow, who is oblivious to the reason behind her owner’s sorrow, offers solace nonetheless. Quietly, she waits until the cries die down and the tears begin to dry, and even then she stays close to her person, having a better sense of direction than most humans do. Y/N’s four-legged friend is honest, treats her with kindness, and loves her unconditionally. It’s a special connection no man can ever steal away, yet many can learn from. This incredible being is her soul horse, a term Dean has taught her, the one who she thought was going to be her partner in life until he decided otherwise. He is right, though; it is over between them. She has lost Dean’s heart, but at the end of the day, no matter what happens, she will always have Meadow.
That’s that then. They are over...
Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).
Read part twenty-five here
#Ride With Me#Dean x Reader#Cowboy!Dean x Reader#Dean angst#Dean Winchester x Reader#Dean x Y/N#Dean x you#Cowboy!Dean#cowboy!dean au#Cowboy Dean x reader#Cowboy Dean AU#Cowboy Dean series#Cowboy!Dean series#Dean fluff#dean winchester angst#Supernatural AU#Supernatural reader insert#Dean Winchester#Dean Winchester fanfiction#Kate Huntington
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Every once in a while a show sort of creeps up on you, you know? You don't really expect much of it, and then it sort of quietly wows you. Ada Masalı is that show.
At its surface, AM is about a city girl who falls for a small town boy, and all the clichés that entails, and that is the core of the story. I think that's part of why it's so good--bc this story had a premise and it's kept that premise solid. City girl moves to small town and falls in love with a local and everyone learns lessons along the way.
But AM takes the tropes and clichés and does them well. I've written before about how they take the basics and give them just enough "oomph" to make them special. I'll quote myself here, if I may:
Haziran and Poyraz both seem to fit into pretty typical roles: gruff, silent man and bubbly, talkative woman. But they’ve given each character enough nuance to move them out of the typical mold. Yes, Haziran is bubbly and talkative and a little overly loud, but she has a reason for it–silence in her childhood meant anger and fighting with her mother, and she learned how to fill the silence with talking. She is also very competent at her job, genuinely kind, smart, and driven. Poyraz is the “strong, silent” type, but he manages to subvert the “asshole” which far too often comes with the role. Like Haziran, he has some difficulties in his past, but he also seems well adjusted, smart, genuinely kind, focused, and again, competent. He and Haziran are true equals in this show, which is rare in romcom couples, particularly Turkish ones. They both are in similar financial situations, they both seem to have similar philosophies and outlooks, and, perhaps most importantly, they are both head over heels for each other and they both know it, even if they are unable to say it out loud just yet.
At the time when I wrote the above piece, I believe we were just before episode 6 or 7, so the secret hadn't been revealed yet, and at the time I speculated that it was likely to drop before their relationship started, and I was correct. This show continues to take the obvious and turn it on its head.
Poyraz and Haziran are one of the few dizi couples, and certainly the only romcom couple, I've seen where they have entered into a relationship that isn't built on a fragile house of cards held together by mutual attraction. This couple is completely and totally all in, and it makes sense. They've had conversation upon conversation about their parents, their past, their fears, their insecurities, their concerns. They've seen each other vulnerable and hurting and scared and been there for each other at their lowest. They have complete and total trust in each other, in their love for each other, in their relationship.
There is attraction yes, certainly, god is there ever, but there is also a deep affection. They like each other, which may seem a silly thing to fixate on, but so many times with couples I ask myself "okay, but do they even like each other though?" and in this case, they genuinely do. Poyraz loves her rambling and her overreactions and the way she hops from one idea to the other but somehow always manages to make it work. He loves that she works hard and never pawns off the hard jobs and he loves how genuinely kind and caring she is. He memorizes everything because he liked her before he loved her, and that's huge. And same for her. She loves his kindness and his empathy, his ability to fix broken electronics and his stubbornness when it comes to getting his way. She loves his honesty and his pride and the way he can't ever really say no to her. I think she also really loves that he doesn't let his past affect who he is. There's a connection between them that started with a spark but grew into something actually real.
The best bit, though, is that this is the first romcom couple I've seen (there may be more) that enter the relationship on completely equal terms, no secrets, and no uncertainties. All their secrets from each other were cleared up long before they ever said I love you. They are both in a similar place life wise--financially they are both probably around equal in terms of overall assets, they both have equal romantic histories (probably a series of short term relationships but nothing big or long lasting), they both value hard work and honesty and kindness, they are both mature adults who have been "out" of their parents house so to speak (yes, both still live with their respective parents, but neither play the typical "kid" role--they both are honestly more in the caretaker role), they are both college educated with business acumen. They both have had difficulties in their past, but neither allow those issues to hurt others--they both possess enough self-awareness to know how their issues effect them personally and they both work to ensure their issues don't become someone else's burden. Poyraz helping her with her fear of water or Haziran talking him through his mother are not them burdening each other, or using their issues as a reason to avoid a relationship--on the contrary, they build their bond by supporting each other through their pain. And, and this one is perhaps most important, they both love each other equally, and they both knew it before it was ever said outloud. That Poyraz could say "I love you" and Haziran could say it right back, no hesitation, speaks volumes to where they are both individually and as a couple.
Perhaps what's been the most refreshing is them communicating, constantly. When these two fight, they share their issues, their anger, their irritation, and then they work through it. The way they talk through their issues, every time, is honestly stunning for how completely refreshing it is. When they get mad at each other, they don't act like everything is fine while actively treating the other like crap--they explain the reasons behind their anger/irritation, they listen, they talk. The scene this episode of their banter after their fight on the first date was incredibly refreshing--bc it wasn't actually fighting. Haz was upset bc Poyraz ruined their first date--which he acknowledges, apologizes for, and then makes up to her, and she accepts. Their playful flirting in the kitchen the next day is just that--fun and playful and both of them are in on it. It's not Haz treating him like shit under the guise of "comedy", it's not him purposely being an obnoxious pain in the ass. It's them being cute and flirty and light after their fight the night before, which they already solved with a text conversation.
What I love most about their relationship is that I buy it. Completely. These are two people who aren't going to run when things get tough, who aren't going to play coy about their feelings, who aren't going to fight just to fight. We've seen them be honest and straightforward in their feelings, good, bad or otherwise. We've seen them fight for each other and their relationship. We've seen them encounter problems (whether in their relationship or in life) and work through them, together. And perhaps the greatest part of their relationship is that they allow each other to be exactly who they are. They are both allowed to feel the things they feel, and the other lets them. They are given a safe space to be themselves, and to know that they will always have the support and love of the other person, no matter what.
I said I thought this show was about love, at it's core, and all the ways love manifests, and I still think that's true. But I think this show is also about happiness--and about the idea that we can't always know exactly what is going to make us happy. True happiness can't always be predicted--what you think might make you happy isn't always what actually does, and sometimes that's a hard thing to accept. All of the characters on this show have a view of the world and what will bring them joy, and one by one I think we are seeing that change. Sometimes what makes you happy is the thing you didn't expect.
This show is hardly perfect. It's a dizi, and it has it's flaws. And without knowing how long it's set to run, the chances of it losing focus is not an impossibility. But this show continues to delight and surprise--from introducing new characters like Batu who are far more than they appear, to continuing to keep us guessing with old ones, I think AM has the chance to be a romcom people remember as being special. I'm hoping right now for between 20-25 episodes, which would allow us to explore their island and it's story in the detail I think it deserves, without leaving too much room for nonsense to creep in.
I think I'll leave this here for now--sometimes a show is more than it seems, and sometimes a show is exactly what it seems. AM is both and neither, and I'd be willing to argue that it's the summer's best. The focus in the diziworld seems to be entirely on the summer's other two romcoms, but AM stays quietly getting better by the week. I look forward to what these writers have in store for us in the weeks to come!
#ada masalı#ayça ayşin turan#alp navruz#djem watches dizis#seriously if you aren't watching this show pls do#its a feel good happy show#thats well written and fun#an honestly seems to be on an upward trajectory#in terms of getting better and better
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