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#I love this girl and I wish she didn’t die without holding more meaning moving forward in the plot :(((((
eldritch-ace · 4 months
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Celebrating Mizumono’s birthday with some Abigails :)))
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green-ville · 2 years
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Run Boy Run Part 2
Who Is She?
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             Wednesday Addams stared, which wasn't unusual for her, but normally when she stared the person she stared at walked away, freaked out. It was unusual to be able to stare at someone without them walking away. Less fun. She liked when they put up a fight.
           "I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here."
           Wednesday turned; black eyes on Xavier Thorpe. His leg was in a cast, he was leaning on two crutches in the doorway. Consequences to his heroics, he suffered a broken leg.
           "You do have a habit of getting yourself involved, don't you?"
           She turned back around, staring at the girl. She greeted him like she greeted most, with an accusatory, monotone dialect. "You've seen her too."
           He stood beside her, hands holding the crutch handles while hers were crossed over her chest.
           He nodded. "I have."
           "And?"
           "And," he drew out the word, "what?"
           "Don't play dumb, its beneath you."
           His head tilted. "That was almost a compliment. Enid's been rubbing off on you."
           The thought frightened her. She had been going for insulting.
           Her finger tapped on her arm. Her calculating gaze swept to the heart monitor. Steady. She assessed her injuries again, wishing she could see beneath the bandages. They were on her hand and her head. Tape pulled the smaller cuts together. An IV ran into the back of her right hand. She had a face mask on, infusing oxygen. 7 liters. She was having difficulty breathing. Likely the broken ribs.
           "I don't know what to think," Xavier finally admitted. "When I saw her, she was in danger." He nodded his head back and forth, inner turmoil battling, before he further conceded, "and my last dream of her wasn't the nicest."
           "You saw her die."
           "I saw her fall," he corrected. "Does this match up with what you've seen?"
           She had gotten better control over her powers. She could almost sense when something was going to reveal itself to her. It took some of the fun away, she had liked the surprise of suddenly passing out to a vision, but she supposed this was better for other people.
           For example; now.
           She knew, without a shadow of a doubt and she loved her shadows, that as soon as she touched the girl, something was going to happen. She hesitated because there was a sinking (another thing she adored) suspicion that that it wasn't going to turn out well. It wasn't that Wednesday minded torture, she'd consider it a favorite hobby actually, but the last time she tortured someone things got messy and she was working on being tidy.
           She hated sloppy work, and she hated it even more when it came from her.
           "What's going on in that head of yours Wednesday?" Xavier asked, looking down at her leering figure.
           She glanced to him, then glanced back. "I didn't see her fall."
           "What did you see?"
           "I. . ." she paused, realizing with disgust that Enid was rubbing off on her, because she was about to do the worst thing that had ever been invented. Share. "I saw her die. She should have died."
           "Maybe she did? I mean, sometimes people's hearts stop?"
           She shook her head, and moved away from him, needing space. She stood at the foot of the bed, staring her down. She moved to the opposite side of the bed, as if the different point of view would offer better insight.
           Xavier coughed. "You uh, you gonna do your seer thing?"
           This is why she didn't make friends. They never shut up. Couldn't he figure out that she needed silence in order to think? Was it that difficult to perceive?
           "How did you know she'd be there today?" Wednesday settled for asking.
           Xavier shrugged. "I didn't, but I've been walking past the main doors a lot. Guess I was nervous. You?"
           "I like to sit on the roof when it rains. Helps me think."
           He did his version of a smile; a smirk with a downward shake of his head. "So come on, tell me what you're thinking. Another interesting semester ahead of – "
           Wednesday's eyes blew open, her back arched, arms going rigid, reaching out towards the ground. Her head bent back, her feet stumbled in a half circle, and she collapsed to the ground, hitting a chair on the way down.
           Xavier yelled out her name, got a crutched step towards her, and then the girl on the bed moved. He faltered, staring at her, panicked, as she arched off the mattress. Her head bent back, her wrists to the bed, her heels to the bed, supported in a way she shouldn't have been able to support herself. Her heart monitor spiked, and he yelled for the Doctor – just as the door slammed shut.
           Fire burst up from the ground along the wall, crawling up high and raging with a vicious passion. He bumped into the bed to get away from it, then remembered Wednesday, and stumbled over to her, pulling her away from the wall.
           The fire blocked out the surrounding world and managed to darken the room. His heart raced, fear seeping into his veins, and then he realized that, despite the fire, he wasn't warming up.
           He straightened up, no longer crouching besides Wednesday, she'd hate the proximity anyway, and looked at the fire.
           The walls were morphing. He blinked, thinking he was imagining it, but no, he wasn't. The walls were fading away, which was difficult to see because of the fire that encompassed it. Behind the flames there was a background of red. . .red and black. . .a large open space?
           Huff.
           He whirled, almost tripping over his crutches. No one was there, but he had definitely heard someone. When he turned back around, he saw it.
           A black creature running towards him, horns long, eye sockets a soul sucking abyss, claws wicked and gleaming. It jumped, about to make its way through the ten foot high wall of fire.
           Xavier fell back, crutches discarded, and hit the bed. Bumped the girl on the bed, who was still arched off of it. The second he came into contact with her the world returned to normal. The fire zipped back down, eradicating itself. The demon thing disappeared. Walls and windows and opened doors formed around him.
           The girl behind him plopped down onto the bed, heart monitor slowing down.
           Xavier still hadn't moved when Wednesday stood. Her eyes narrowed at him. His accelerated breathing. His shock slapped face. His unstable position.
           She was clearly going to ask him a question; he beat her to it.
           "What the hell was that Wednesday?" His voice was strained, hoarse from fear. His dreams had never been like that before. Was that what hers were always like?
           "You were there?"
           "Yeah! Where the hell were you?"
           "I didn't see you."
           "Well I was definitely there, and this demon thing almost killed me!"
           Her lips pierced. She opened her mouth, prepared to speak, likely offer some non-answer, but she didn't even grace him with that. Her gaze shifted to directly behind Xavier.
           Xavier fumbled into a stand, grabbing his crutches, and when he turned around, his suspicions were rendered true.
           She was awake.
           She took the face mask off, the sound of air still pushing through it but louder now without her wearing it. She looked from Xavier to Wednesday, back again.
           "Who are you?"
           "Who are you?" Wednesday asked right back. "And why aren't you dead?"
           Xavier gave Wednesday a look. She didn't break.
           "What day is it?" The girl asked.
           "What was chasing you?" Wednesday asked.
           "September 2nd," Xavier supplied.
           She blinked at him, surprised. "The 2nd? Really? It's not the 1st?"
           "No? You've been asleep since your accident yesterday."
           "How did you get onto the roof?" Wednesday asked.
           "It's really the 2nd?"
           "What is with your fixation on the date?" Wednesday asked.
           She exhaled, filled with soft, fine crackles. "My. . .my head hurts. . .what happened? What roof?"
           Xavier spoke before Wednesday could hit her with another question. "You showed up at Nevermore Academy, ended up on the roof? You were dangling from the gutters. Do you remember this?"
           Her forehead furrowed. Her hand covered the lines. It was clear even without verbalization, she was struggling to think right now. There had been a lot of blood under her head. He knew she had hit it; he just didn't know how hard.
           "I. . ." She looked Xavier, then flittered away, staying on Wednesday. "I'm supposed to be dead."
           Wednesday nodded, arms crossing over her chest. "Finally," her voice was dryer than sand. "Something we agree on."
~
           Giavanna was helped to sit up straighter; it aided her breathing. She refused to put the oxygen mask on again, it was annoying and got in the way. Because of this, she felt short of breath, but she'd deal with that.
           Just like she'd deal with all the other pain she was in, and it was a tremendous amount.
           The two kids, really teenagers her own age, were told to leave the room. Replacing them, a Dean of a school, a Sheriff, and a Doctor.
           At first there was an assessment. Cognitive, physical, emotional. She had to rate her pain, she had to identify her name, the date, the place she was in, and the current president. She was asked how she was feeling.
           "I'm supposed to be dead."
           "Why is that dear?" The Dean inquired, a lovely lady with brunette hair swept into a 40's style fitting for her makeup.
           Giavanna frowned. "I. . .I don't know. I knew, but I. . .I can't remember. I wasn't supposed to live past my 16th birthday."
           "When was that?" The Sheriff asked, voice gruff. She would've believed him disinterested if she didn't first believe he always looked and sounded like that.
           "Yesterday. The 1st. It's the 2nd today. . .I was being chased, and. . . and I got out. I made a portal-"
           "So you're an outcast?" The Sheriff cut in.
           "Sheriff Galpin," The Dean smiled, politically polite, eyes oozing pointed correction.
           The Sheriff coughed. "You, er, have magic?"
           "I'm a witch," Giavanna agreed. "I, I made a portal, to get away. I was being chased."
           "You said that already," Sheriff Galpin said.
           "Sheriff, normally we let the patients talk freely," The Doctor, who wore a nametag that identified him as 'Johnson', responded.
           The Sheriff nodded. "Apologies." He didn't seem apologetic.
           "I messed up the spell, and I, well," she frowned. "I don't know where I was trying to go. I've never heard of Nevermore, but that's where I appeared?" She looked to the Dean for confirmation.
           The Dean nodded. "Yes dear."
           "Well, then I guess I'll be on my way then? I should go find my parents," that phrase felt wrong on her tongue, but she had no idea what else to say. She swept her legs over the edge of the bed, felt a wave of dizziness hit her, and still would have kept going if Doctor Johnson hadn't put a hand on her shoulder. "I can't discharge you yet Miss. You're not stable."
           Giavanna may not have had the best memory right now; what she did remember? She hated, beyond all else, being told no. Any form of it. Straight out, indirect "you can't do this!"; it didn't matter how it was said, the ending was the same.
           Giavanna hated it.
           Her lips curled. "I don't recall asking for permission, Doctor Johnson. I've already stayed in one place for too long, I've probably lost most of my distance."
           The Sheriff picked up on this. "You think you're still being chased?"
           "I know it."
           "And how do you know this?"
           "I. . ." she stopped. How did she know this?
           The Sheriff nodded, making his point. "You're disoriented. You hit your head pretty hard. You have no parents or family nearby to my knowledge. Even if the Doctor discharged you, as the Sheriff I can't just let you run away. It's either stay here, or I'll be driving you to the nearest major city for CPS."
           "What?" Giavanna demanded. "You can't do that!" Her hand went to her aching ribs. She shouldn't raise her voice.
           "I can," the Sheriff corrected. "You're an unaccompanied minor that's got some serious damage. Three broken ribs, a bruised sternum, a bruised back, a cracked head and a minor concussion. Lacerated palm with three stitches," he assessed his notes. . . "oh, how could I forget, and you fell four stories. You would have died if Mr. Thorpe didn't break your fall," he paused, "with his body. While I can't say parental abuse off this alone, I can make a very good case for negligence or abandonment – "
           "Sheriff Galpin," The Dean cut in, that painted smile the picture of perfection. "A word outside, please?"
           He paused, clearly considering saying no, but nodded, and stood. The two adults left the room, abandoning Giavanna to Doctor Johnson.
           He checked his watch. "Well, if you'll allow me, I'd like to do your vitals again."
           Giavanna snapped her fingers. The Doctor's eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
           She shut off the IV infusion, and then disconnected the line from the j loop. The j loop was the catheter into her vein. She kept that in place, not feeling comfortable pulling it out. She stood, and immediately sat back down, overwhelmingly lightheaded. She also got a wash of cold from the back of her gown being open and her plans changed; she wanted to put clothes on first.
           Her clothes were nowhere to be found. She looked down at her gown. It would have to do, but that didn't mean she couldn't restyle.
           "I haven't looked good in a long while, turn this gown into the latest style," she commanded, and sparkles reigned down from above her head. She didn't look, wanting the surprise, but she did feel the difference. Feel the fabric tighten around her chest, disappear from her waist, and tighten at her hips. When it was done, she looked down at her outfit.
           Same fabric, but a short sleeve crop top with extra padding in the chest to support the girls. A matching skort (skort, not skirt, that was very important) that definitely said early 2000's Clueless girl. Shorter than she normally wore but beggars couldn't be choosers.
           "Good job magic," she praised, which was basically praising herself. "Now we just have to get out." And that was easy enough. She went to the window and cast another spell.
           "Before my past catches up to bite me in the ass, dissolve this window and take me to the grass!"
           The glass puffed into sand, coating the windowsill and falling onto the floor in front of it.
           Giavanna leaned out of the window, assessing the situation. The coast was clear. She started climbing out, grabbing onto the outside, and then began to shimmy down. It was a bit of a breezy day but she was safe thanks to her trusty skort. She was one floor down when a head appeared out of her window.
           It was the Sheriff.
           "Damnit kid!"
           "It's wrong to swear!" Giavanna informed, continuing to climb down.
           He cursed again, leaving the window. The Dean poked her head out, saw the situation for herself, and then disappeared as well.
           Giavanna got her way safely down, grateful for the older exterior that offered a multitude of places for her to jam her hands and feet. On the ground, she wiped her hands together and started to jog. No, she wasn't barefoot. She had been wearing her grippy socks (standard for every patient, actually disproven for lessening fall risks) and those morphed into converse. Because in a time like this, what she needed? No foot support.
           At least it wasn't flipflops.
           She turned down the street and almost body slammed an elderly man. "Sorry!" She called out, swerving just in time.
           She found a motorcycle free for the taking and swung her leg over it.
           "Don't make me find this key, start this engine and let's flee!"
           The engine thrummed beneath her and she kicked up the stand, shifting out of neutral into first gear. She pulled away from the curb, and that's when the knife landed into the front tire. It deflated, air seeping out, and she almost lost her balance.
           Giavanna separated herself just before the motorcycle tilted over, and she scrunched up, hating the sound of it hitting the ground.
           Her hands went to her hips. She looked at the girl in black. "I hope you plan to pay for that tire."
           "Stop running, we can help you."
           "I don't need help; I need to get out of here."
           "And what are you going to do after that?" The girl demanded. "Keep running? If you were supposed to die, whatever was sent after you won't stop until its fulfilled its purpose. You'll be on the run forever."
           "This doesn't concern you at all."
           "When you interfere with my life, clouding my visions, then it concerns me," the girl was getting closer, but Giavanna wasn't stepping back. She was off the sidewalk now, fifteen feet away.
           Giavanna picked up on that. "Visions? You have. . .you're like me?"
           "We all are."
           She whirled, backing up, finding the cute boy from earlier. The one with long hair and his leg in a cast.
           "That's Wednesday Addams, I'm Xavier Thorpe." Thorpe. The Sheriff had mentioned him. He broke her fall? "We're both seers that go to Nevermore Academy," he explained, and she was more okay with him, because he hadn't bombarded her with questions she couldn't answer. He answered her questions. "It's a school for outcasts."
           "What a nice motto," she snarked.
           "We can help you," Wednesday Addams said, closer yet again. Ten feet away. "Whatever's chasing you, we'll help you stop it, and kill it. That way you don't have to run. Or do you prefer to cower?"
           Her face twisted. "I wasn't cowering."
           "Then what were you doing? Why isn't it already dead?" She had one tone, and it was accusation.
           "It's not as easy as it looks."
           Xavier nodded, "so you need help. Let us help you, please. You don't have to do this alone."
           She took a step away from the both of them, not liking the proximity. Her arms wrapped around her exposed torso. She liked the offer, which is what scared her, because deep down, she knew it wasn't safe. "I. . .I can't. It's not safe for anyone to be near me. Just, please, forget you ever saw me."
           Wednesday stepped closer. "I promise that I will help you. If you run away, understand that I will follow you. So you can either stay here, and we can grow stronger on familiar territory, or you can make everything unnecessarily difficult by engaging in a meaningless game of cat, mouse, and mouse trap. You," pointed, as everything out of her was, "being the mouse."
           Giavanna stepped back again. She glanced to Xavier. "Is she always like this?"
           He smirked. "This is her playing nice." Then he nodded. "But we can help you. Please. This uh, isn't our first rodeo with monsters."
           Unease set in, a chill sweeping up her arms. She knew, without knowing why, that they had never faced her issue before. Hadn't even come close.
           "Why do you want to help?" Giavanna asked, specifically to Wednesday. "Why are you so adamant on it?" Saying even that she'd follow her just to help? It didn't seem in character for the detached girl.
           Wednesday grinned, painted lips pulling up. "It's a hobby."
           "Helping people?"
           "No," Xavier sighed. "Murder mysteries."
           The Sheriff burst around the corner; the Dean hot on his tail. He saw the group of teenagers and stopped, the Dean barreling into his back. He was stable enough to not fall, and she righted herself, pulling down her coat.
           "Ms. Addams, Mr. Thorpe, you've, you've stopped her?" The Dean seemed surprised by this, like she couldn't fathom the two of them doing anything helpful.
           "She hasn't agreed yet." Wednesday took another step closer, pinning her with her black gaze. A black gaze so different from whatever creature vaguely circled in her mind. Her hands crossed in front of her, folded over each other. "So, will you stay, and accept help, or will you run, and begin another chase?"
           It kinda felt like she wanted Giavanna to run just for her own personal fun. Giavanna had known Wednesday Addams for five minutes, and already it seemed as if the girl had an altered outlook on life, which included different definitions of fun.
           "It's either stay or CPS," Sheriff clarified.
           Giavanna scowled. "I don't like you."
           He put a hand over his heart. "Owe."
           She stifled a smile, then looked around. Avoiding gazes, taking in the scene. She was shaking from the cold. When she did answer, it was slow, hesitant, uncertain. She was making a terrible, horrible, decision. And yet, she didn't see any other choice right now. She was disoriented, her thoughts jumbled, and having a seer on her side could prove helpful, even if it did mean endangering everyone. "Well. . .seeing as I don't really have very many options right now, then. . .I will stay."
           "Great choice kid," he nodded to her. "Now, who put the knife in the motorcycle and why was it Wednesday?"
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abbatoirablaze · 2 years
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Hidden Sisters, Chapter 14
Word Count:  1.6k
Warnings:  angst, mentions of harm, sexual tension
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“Hey…”
Jennifer looked to Nick and her jaw clenched.  It had been a few days since she sent her sisters home, even though Nick had told her that she didn’t have to, and that she should try to work through it. 
“Work through it?” she scoffed, “they told me that I should leave you.  Do you really want me to take my little sister’s advice right now, Nick?”
He frowned, “well, no, bu-“
“Just leave me alone,” she growled, not wanting to argue with the father of her unborn child, “I don’t want to argue with you…I don’t want to even see you!”
“Jennifer…”
“No,” she cried, immediately breaking down in front of him.  He rushed to catch her so that her knees didn’t hit the hard mountain rock floor.  His own heart broke as his mate, the woman he loved, began sobbing against his chest, “you don’t get it, Nick.”
“Then explain it to me!” he begged sadly.
“You will never understand!”
“At least give me the chance to try!”
Jennifer looked up at him through teary lashes.  Nick was quick to wipe away the small streams that had begun on her cheeks once again, “hey…no more tears, mommy wolf!”
She sniffled and bit her lip, her eyes watering once more. 
“Nick…”
“We don’t have to talk about it,” he whispered in response.  He gently kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms just a little bit tighter around her waist, “we don’t have to re-hash it again!”
“WHY?” She screamed in his face, “why should I even bother?  The men in my life abandon or hurt me!  That’s all they’ve ever done!  I WISH I NEVER MET YOU!”
Nick felt like his heart was shattering in his chest as the words began to sink in.  Tears welled up in his own eyes, “y-you don’t mean that, Jennifer.  Y-you-you’re my soulmate.  My true soulmate!”
“And you were willing to hurtle a fireball at me without so much as a thought!” she sobbed, “you were willing to kill me.  To kill our child!”
Nick rushed her once again, holding her in a tight grip, “let me get this out there, so the whole world can hear it!  If anything ever happened to you, I’d die!  I’d lose all sanity.  You are my everything, Jennifer.  You and our children!  I don’t know what I was thinking when I did that, I don’t.  But it will never happen again.”
“You’re right.  It won’t.  I will not suffer the same fate as my mother!” she whimpered, gripping his shoulders so desperately that little crescent moons were appearing when she moved her fingers, “I will not let you hurt me or our children!”
“You’re all I have, Jennifer!”
His tone felt broken as the tears slid down his own cheeks, “don’t lock me out of the only relationship I have left.  I can’t bare the thought of losing you too!”
“Nic-“
“I’m sorry!” he said loudly, the teras falling freely down his cheeks, “I’m sorry.  And you can hate me for the rest of your life if you want, but please don’t say that you wish you never knew me.  Because I would have let Kemp kill me if you weren’t in my life…I would have just let myself fade into the afterlife.  You are the fire that runs through my veins, the water that keeps me from dehydrating in the desert.  I love you, Jennifer.  Don’t give up on me like everyone else has.  Please.”
Jennifer reached up, sniffling a little bit more as she touched her mate’s jaw.  Nick leaned into her touch and she sighed.  Her other hand reached down and grabbed his, lacing her fingers with his, before settling over her abdomen, “I love you, Nick.”
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“Where do you think you’re going?”
“What?” Annalise asked suddenly, looking towards her twin, “I’m not going anywhere.  What are you talking about?”
“Jake and Ransom won’t let us leave!” she spat, “and it’s all because of your difficult mate.  It’s his fault that Jefferson hasn’t even had the time to see me.  He barely writes me anymore!”
“Shut up, Samantha!”
She rolled her eyes and Annalise got up to leave the main sitting room.  She knew that Ransom and Jake were tucking the girls in, and she made her way to the staff’s quarters, looking for a particular woman.
Annalise’s breath caught in her throat. 
He stood, wrapped in only seaweed and netting around his lower waist.  Her inner wolf purred, seeing her mate so bare in front of her.  Her logic began to fade as her wolf wanted to take over and pounce on her very virile looking mate.
Lance was training vigorously by himself with a trident in his hand.  He was practicing maneuvers against a tree, twirling the trident around his body, making moves to stab at and pierce the tree every so often. 
She felt her breath catch in her throat.
The young water nymph looked at her in shock, “you actually want to go see him?”
“He’s my mate.”
“He’s a monster, Miss Jensen…you’d do well to stay by your brother’s side and under his and King Ransom’s protection for as long as you can,” she sighed gently, “he’s not…well liked in the water kingdom.”
“But he’s the king?”
“We fear him, Miss Annalise…” she admitted sadly, “he’s a nymph worth fearing….but not one that everyone likes…”
“Well, I want to know where to find him.”
“He’s probably preparing for the war!”
“Which means he’ll be where?”
“Miss…you don’t want to see him.”
“Tell me where he is, water nymph…and then act as you never saw me…”
She sighed as she told the little wolf where her mate would be training knowing that there would be no talking her out of seeing him.
Lance nearly dropped his trident when he spun to face Annalise.  He released a gasp and quickly threw the weapon away from himself, his hands reaching up to pull her body towards his own, “Annalise!  What are you doing here?  It’s not safe!”
“I had to see you!” she said quickly, “I haven’t heard from you since-“
“Since you kicked me out!” he finished quickly, reminding her of their last encounter together. 
Annalise bit her lip and looked away from the water nymph, “I’m sorry about that.”
“I never forgot you, Annalise,” he admitted, “I just…Nick and I were at ends…and I didn’t think it fair to you to try to win over your heart if I might not be there to claim it by the end of this war.”
Annalise looked up at him, shock on her face, “what?”
“Look at me!” he commanded gently as he held her at arm’s length.  She began to notice all of the little scars on his body, “this is from challenges within my own kingdom.  I cannot tell you that my people love me or wouldn’t try to harm me…and that includes if I were to lead them onto a battlefield.  I know that I have enemies in my waters…and I wouldn’t put it past them to see this as a likely chance to usurp my role.  I wouldn’t want to put you into any danger by assuming that you should wait for me, or by bringing you to my stead.  I do not want to do to you what Nick did to your elder sister and hold your life in my hands if I cannot guarantee that I can protect it while I’m at war.”
“Lance…”
The nymph licked his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth, “I must train if I know I am to survive, mate…”
Annalise was unable to hold back the purr developing in her throat.  Lance bit back a smirk as she looked away again, her body trailing back down along his own lithe, yet muscular form.  She felt a tightness in her belly and a warmth covering her. 
“Do you like that?” he teased, catching on, “do you like it when I refer to you as my mate?”
Her eyes went wide. 
“Lance…”
She felt a line of sweat teasing the back of her neck, coming out of her hairline. 
“Yes, my beautiful wolf.  My loving mate?  My alpha”
A pain radiated in her belly and her nails ran down the nymphs chest as the final word crossed his lips.  Lance, seeing it as a come-on, pulled her towards him, their lips clashing in a heated passion.  She began rumbling, signaling to him the deeper connection that she wanted, and Lance scooped her up, turned, and held her between himself and the tree. 
“Annalise!”
“Lance!” she whimpered gently, biting his lower lip.  She gasped as his fingers trailed over her swelling mating gland, and he started to piece together the puzzle.
“Shit,” he hissed gently, still pressing her to the tree so that she couldn’t run, “You’re going into a breakthrough rut, my wolf!”
“I-I should go!”
“You wouldn’t be safe alone!” he said quickly, his hands quick to tuck her hair behind her ears as he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, “let me take you to my realm…I-I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
“But you said-“
“I would be more than a fool to let you out of my sight now that we’ve been seen together in this manner,” he replied quickly, “please…”
She looked at him, concern lacing his steely eyes, and she nodded, kissing him once more.  Her eyes closed as she latched onto him, and she felt a cooling whir around her, “Okay Lance.”
“Do not let go!” he whispered against her lips.
And the water took them both. 
Chapter 15
Tag List:  @lohnes16, @dontbescaredtosingalong, @teambarnes72
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starlyte-writes · 1 year
Text
It’s that time again! Star info dumps about her D&D stuff despite nobody asking for it! This time I’m giving one section from each song on the playlist I made for my main character Nova that I think best shows why I picked that song for her.
Right, LET’S GO!
1) I’m Sorry by Swell:
So, bad first example, there’s only one line in this entire song, but mostly focus on the title and the vibe
2) Cut My Hair by Mounika and Cavetown:
Are you, you tired of me yet?
3) Saw Her Standing by Ballyhoo!
Left me standing here / Eyes welled up with tears / Drowning me alive in all my fears
4) Happy Pills by Weathers
I’m happy all the time / I’m happy all the time / I love my girl but she ain’t worth the price / She ain’t worth the price / No, she ain’t worth the price
5) Saint Bernard by Lincoln
You always said how you love dogs / I don’t know if I count, but I’m trying my best / When I’m howling and barking these songs
6) Stressed Out by Twenty One Pilots
My name’s Blurryface and I care what you think / My name’s Blurryface and I care what you think
7) Don’t You Give Up by Dansu
I don’t need no problems, oh, I just want sunny sky / I cannot live without you by my side / Don’t give up, don’t you give up on me / Don’t give up, don’t you give up on me
8) Your Sister Was Right by Wilbur Soot
Every time that I miss you / I feel the way you hurt / And I don’t deserve you / You deserve the world
9) Saline Solution by Wilbur Soot
If I could just break one more night / Maybe I could wake up and feel alright
10) Since I Saw Vienna by Wilbur Soot
The roads are my home, horizon’s my target / If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it / Treating my memory of you like a fire / Let it burn out, don’t fight it, and try to move on
11) Losing Face by Wilbur Soot
Well, I don’t know what I’m to do / Yes, I don’t know what I’ll fuckin’ do / I’ve lost all meaning / I’ve lost my sense of hope
or
I don’t care, I want you here / As long as you’re happy, I don’t care
12) I’m Sorry Boris by Wilbur Soot
I can’t believe that I’m leaving / I don’t think I want to leave you / I don’t think I want to leave you here alone
13) Disappear by Candlebard
Carries the world on his back, standing tall / Fearing one day, he’ll drop them all / Oh, he burns from the inside / When he sees himself sink
or
My memories are melting to foam (Disappear) / Watch me ruin another place I called home (Disappear) / On your face, the light dies (Ah) / As you gaze up in fear / And I watch it all / Disappear
14) Cause for Concern by Lovejoy
You could eat the foam from the headrest (I said there’s no cause for-) / You could knock the wind out of my breath (I said there’s no cause for-) / And you could kick the teeth into my head / Still, there’s no cause for concern
15) People I Don’t Like by UPSAHL
Hello, it’s so good to see you / We met before but nice to meet you / Yeah, I don’t really wanna be here like, ah-ah-ah-ah
16) Smile by Ukuletea
You don’t need to cry / Or show me sympathy / Don’t waste your time on me / I’m used to being alone / So step away from me
17) I DONT TRUST U ANYMORE by Left at London
I remember the days when / Your retched image didn’t make me sick / And I wish it could still be like that / But / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / I don’t trust you anymore / You won’t trust us anyway
18) & by Tally Hall
Weak & Strong & / Wet & Dry & / Right & Wrong & / Live & Die & / Sane & Gone & / Love & Not & / All the &s that we forgot
19) Seventeen by Peach Pit
There’s something dark hangin’ over my head / I’m seventeen, don’t hold your breath
20) All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham
Hey, come on, get your fuckin’ hands up / Get on out of your seats / All eyes on me, all eyes on me, yeah / Heads down, pray for me / Heads down now, pray for me
21) That Funny Feeling by Bo Burnham
Total disassociation, fully out your mind / Googling derealization, hating what you find / That unapparent summer air in early fall / The quiet comprehending of the ending of it all
22) Redesign Your Logo (Bonus Track) by Lemon Demon
Redesign your logo, we know what we’re doing / We are here to help you, everything’s connected / Time is of the essence, we live in the future / Color makes us hungry, everything’s connected
23) Mrs Narcissistic by The Royston Club
Why do I risk it all for you / For you / You talk with such venom in your words / Always fighting to be heard / With blatant disregard for what we fought for
24) overwhelmed by Royal & the Serpent
Feels like I’m somebody else / I get overwhelmed / All of these faces who don’t know what space is / And crowds are shut down, I’m over-stimulated / Nobody gets it, say I’m too sensitive / I can’t listen cause I’m eyeing the exits
25) It’s Raining Somewhere Else by Toby Fox
No lyrics in this song but again the ~vibes~
26) Don’t Forget by Toby Fox
That’s still shining in the cold / With the truth / The promise in our hearts / Don’t forget / I’m with you in the dark
(basically the whole song but these lines especially)
27) Don’t Look Back In Anger - Remastered by Oasis
Where nobody knows / If it’s night or day / But please don’t put your life in the hands / Of a rock and roll band / Who’ll throw it all away
28) You’ll Understand When You’re Older by Lovejoy
If I’m goin’ down you’re coming with me / And you think that it gets better / Just you wait until next week / You’re keeping a dark secret / But you’re talking in your sleep
29) Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott
Here’s the thing, I can’t do anything right / Try as I absolutely, totally might 
or
And I’m not your protagonist / I’m not even my own / I don’t know anything / I don’t even know what I don’t know
30) Karma by AJR
Cause I’ve been so good, I’ve been working my ass off / I’ve been so good, still, I’m lonely and stressed out / I’ve been so good, I’ve been so good this year / And I’ve been so good, but it’s still getting harder / I’ve been so good, where the hell is the karma? / I’ve been so good, I’ve been so good this year
31) Era by Halfy & Winks
An era, life is calling but we stay / An era, time is ticking as it may / An era, oh, I hope and wish and pray / This era will never fade away
32) Camp Adventure by Delta Sleep
How’s one meant to grow / When walls keep caving in / The ceiling above us / Has denied its existence in / Of all the times we tried / I’ve still be up all night / Writing songs of you
33) A Burning Hill by Mitski
I’m tired of wanting more / I think I’m finally worn / For you have a way of promising things / And I’ve been a forest fire / I am a forest fire / And I am the fire and I am the forest / And I am a witness watching it
34) I Can’t Handle Change by R.O.A.R.
I can’t help but repeat myself / I know it’s not your fault / Still lately, I begin to shake / For no reason at all
35) Birds (ft. Terrence Williams Jr.) by Thomas Sanders
I wanna watch from somewhere undisturbing / Quiet, calm, still / Sit right here and gaze at the unknown / I don’t wanna fly in the sky, I just wanna be alone / It’s not a big deal or anything / I just wanna be alone
36) Home (Music Box) by Toby Fox
Again, vibes, but also the title is important
37) Anchor by Mindy Gledhill
There are those who think that I’m strange / They would box me up and tell me to change / But you hold me close and softly say / That you wouldn’t have me any other way
38) On the Borderline by Thomas Sanders
I’m standing on the borderline / What should I bring or leave behind / From who I was / For who I’m gonna be?
39) That Distant Shore (ft. Jennifer Paz) by Steven Universe
I thought I’d stay a while / I tried to learn to smile / So many colors I had never even known / Maybe I’ll find myself sitting on that distant shore / Maybe I’m not alone
40) How Does A Moment Last Forever (Music Box) by Kevin Kline
How does a moment last forever? / How can a story never die? / It is love we must hold onto / Never easy, but we try
41) feelings are fatal by mxmtoon
I’m happy for you, I’m smiling for you / I’d do anything for you, for you / It’s always for you and never for me / And I need it to stop, so let me tell you, please / I’m always sad and I’m always lonely / But I can’t tell you that I’m breaking slowly
42) I’m Just Your Problem (ft. Olivia Olson) by Adventure Time
It’s like I’m not even a person, am I? / I’m just your problem, well / I shouldn’t have to justify what I do / I shouldn’t have to prove anything to you / I’m sorry that I exist / I forget what landed me on your blacklist, but / I shouldn’t have to be the one that makes up with you, so
43) Show & Tell by Melanie Martinez
Why is it so hard to see? (Why?) / If I cut myself, I would bleed (kill me) / I’m just like you, you’re like me / Imperfect and human, are we?
or
Buy and sell (buy and sell) / Like I’m a product to society / Art don’t sell / Unless you fucked every authority / Show and tell / Why can’t you fucking hear me?
44) Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish
I don’t relate to you / I don’t relate to you, no / Cause I’d never treat me this shitty / You made me hate this city
45) Lost Cause by Billie Eilish
Something’s in the air right now / Like I’m losing track of time / Like I don’t really care right now, but maybe that’s fine / You weren’t even there that day / I was waitin’ on you
46) xanny by Billie Eilish
What is it about them? / I must be missing something / They just keep doing nothing / Too intoxicated to be scared / Better off without them / They’re nothing but unstable / Bring ashtrays to the table / And that’s about the only thing they share
47) idontwannabeyouanymore by Billie Eilish
Losing feeling is getting old / Was I made from a broken mold? / Hurt, I can’t shake / We’ve made every mistake / Only you know the way that I break
or
If “I love you” was a promise / Would you break it, if you’re honest? / Tell the mirror what you know she’s heard before / I don’t wanna be you / I don’t wanna be you / I don’t wanna be you / Anymore
48) listen before i go by Billie Eilish
Tell me, love is endless, don’t be so pretentious / Leave me, like you do (like you do) / If you need me / Wanna see me / Better hurry / Cause I’m leaving soon / Sorry, can’t save me now / Sorry, I don’t know how
49) Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County
The great protector / Is that what I’m supposed to be? / What if all this counts for nothin’ / Everything I thought I’d be? / What if by the time I realize / It’s too far behind to see?
50) Stressed Out by Rex Orange County
I let them take control and take me for a fool / It’s such a shame / I never said a word and all time that I waited was a waste / They wanna see me stressed out every day, I know it
51) The Owl House: Lilith’s Fight Song “Black Enchantress” (Fanmade) by Frostfm
This one’s on here cause one of the players in our party asked what our battle theme would be during a fight and this is what I chose for Nova (and happened to find a version of it on Spotify so dope!)
52) Lavender’s Blue by Nursery Rhymes 123
Nova’s father used to always sing this song to her as a child so I put it on the playlist 🥺
53) Feel Better by Penelope Scott
Cause someone loved me, someone fucking loved me / Someone fucking loved me, and I loved them too / Goddamn it, I was worth something, I fuckin’ earned something / I have a right to die, a right to live, a right to choose, too / And God, no!
or
No one’s ever gonna love me like that again / I don’t wanna get over it / I wanna rip the stars to shreds / I don’t wanna feel better
54) Wait for Me (Reprise) by Hadestown
I’m coming wait for me / I hear the walls repeating / The falling of our feet and / It sounds like drumming / And we are not alone / I hear the rocks and stones / Echoing our song / I’m coming
Fun fact - My DM is the one who suggested this song for Nova
55) It’s Over Isn’t It (ft. Deedee Magno Hall) by Steven Universe
Who am I now in this world without her? / Petty and dull, with the nerve to doubt her / What does it matter? It’s already done / Now I’ve got to be there for her son / It’s over, isn’t it? / Isn’t it? / Isn’t it over?
56) What If Tomorrow Comes by Starkid
Tomorrow will come / Tomorrow won’t come / Will tomorrow come today? / And turn the light off / Do you all see what I see? / What I know / What I see / Do you all see the memories? / Tomorrow reminds me
57) Almost There by Princess and The Frog
And I’m almost there / I’m almost there / People down here think I’m crazy / But I don’t care / Trials and tribulations / I’ve had my share / There ain’t nothing gonna stop me now / Cause I’m almost there
58) Disobedient (ft. Kate Micucci and Michaela Dietz) by Steven Universe
Good afternoon, sir / What can I do, sir? / Just say the word, sir / Anything for you, sir
or
I’ve been good, sir / So very, very good for what? / And I’ve given you / Every single thing I’ve got / It’s feeling strange, man / This whole arrangement / Is gonna end with me totally deranged / When I think about all the wasted time I’ve spent / I wanna be disobedient
59) I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire by Kerrin Connolly
I don’t want to set the world on fire / I just want to start / A flame in your heart / In my heart, I have but one desire / And that one is you
60) Flowers by Hadestown
Dreams are sweet until they’re not / Men are kind until they aren’t / Flowers bloom until they rot and fall apart / Is anybody listening? / I open my mouth and nothing comes out / Nothing / Nothing gonna wake me now
or
Flowers, I remember fields of / Flowers, soft beneath my heels / Walking in the sun / I remember someone
61) I Do Adore by Mindy Gledhill
Finding words, I mutter / Tongue-tied, twisted / Foot in mouth, I start to stutter / Ha, ha, Heaven help me / Hello, how are you, my darling, today? / I fall into a pile on the floor / Puppy love is hard to ignore / When every little thing you do, I do adore
62) Fight for Me by Heathers
So who might you be? / And could you fight for me? / And hey, could you face the crowd? / Could you be seen with me and still act proud? 
or
It’s fine, if you don’t agree / But I would fight for you / If you would fight for me
63) Basics in Behavior - Blue Version by The Living Tombstone and OR3O
And I’m here wonderin’ if one day / We’ll finally be free from this cage / Is it okay to have a feelin’ / That maybe there is more to this game? / However now, no time to question / So just behave
64) It’s Been A Long, Long Time (with Harry James & His Orchestra) by Kitty Kallen and Harry James
You’ll never know how many dreams / I’ve dreamed about you / Or just how empty they all seemed without you
(The main reason this song was added is because another player in my partied played the song as Nova’s love interest died </3)
65) Hug All Ur Friends by Cavetown
You don’t know what it’s like to be nothing at all / When the night turns cold my thoughts feel like stone / And it’s nothing I can’t change / But I can’t breathe anymore / I forgot how to walk by myself
or
So hug all your friends and let them know / You’re not letting go / No, I won’t let go
66) Everything Stays (feat. Olivia Olson) by Adventure Time
Everything stays, but it still changes / Every so slightly, daily and nightly / In little ways / When everything stays
67) Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham
I was a kid who was stuck in his room / There isn’t much more to say about it / When you’re a kid and you’re stuck in your room / You’ll do any old shit to get out of it
or
Well, well / Look who’s inside again / Went out to look for a reason to hide again / Well, well / Buddy, you found it / Now, come out with your hands up / We’ve got you surrounded
68) Goodbye by Bo Burnham
Wanna guess the ending? If it ever does / I swear to God that all I’ve ever wanted was / A little bit of everything, all of the time / A bit of everything, all of the time
69) Top of My School by Katherine Lynn-Rose
But if I hadn’t earned a dollar / What would you think of your dear daughter? / Would it be pity or dishonor / To ensue? / And if I failed to earn blue ribbon / How could I ever be forgiven? / Tell me what love would still be given / From you
70) Girl Anachronism by The Dresden Dolls
There I go again / Pretending that I’ll fall / Don’t call the doctors / Cause they’ve seen it all before / They’ll say just / Let her crash / And burn / She’ll learn / The attention just encourages her
71) How To Let Go by August Greenwood
I fear almost everything / I don’t have the option to break / Cause all of the people I love have their lives at stake / I feel so selfish / I feel so insecure when I’m in pain / Please don’t hold me / I wouldn’t know how to let go
72) The Fall by Lovejoy
And we’re so calm but we’re (fucking scared, fucking scared) / And we’re so calm but we’re fucking scared of people like you
or
So come on, one and all to see the apathy / The reams of gray stencils that fill the tapestry / I look to all of you and see a different fucking species / Aspiration for a different destination to me
73) Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz
Finally someone let me out of my cage / Now time for me is nothin’, cause I’m countin’ no age / Now I couldn’t be there, now you shouldn’t be scared / I’m good at repairs, and I’m under each snare
(I mostly put this song here because it gave me the vibes of possession like when Orcus possessed Nova (or at least tried to))
74) Call Me What You Like by Lovejoy
You can call me what you like / As long as you call me / And you could kiss the skin from my lips / If it makes you feel good / I’m not sure if you want it / Not sure if you need me too
or
This just in / I am a total fucking dumbass / And I’ve come to the uncomfortable conclusion / I’ll be spending the rest of my life in a state of constant paranoia / Just let me follow you
or
I’m not paranoid, I’m a realist / I know you’re gonna kill me!
or
But you can’t stay awake forever / No you can’t stay awake forever
(basically this entire song is perfect LMAO)
75) Seventeen by Heathers
Let us be seventeen / If we still got the right / So what’s it gonna be? / I wanna be with you / I wanna be with you / Wanna be with you / Tonight / Yeah we’re damaged / Badly damaged / But your love’s too good to lose / Hold me tighter / Even closer / I’ll stay if I’m what you choose / Can’t we be seventeen? / If I am what you choose / If we’ve still got the right / Cause you’re the one I choose / You’re the one I choose / You’re the one I choose
76) Oblivion by Halfy & Winks
Would I be descending through the darkness / Through the fire and the rain and the mist? / Would the air fail to catch me as I failed to catch you? / Would we have fallen? / Fallen / Into oblivion?
77) Rhinestone Eyes by Gorillaz
A clear target in the summer when skies are blue / It’s part of the noise when winter comes / It reverberates in my lungs / Nature’s corrupted in factories far away / Here we go again
78) The Perfect Pair - Spotify Singles covered by Lovejoy (song by beabadoobee)
If I told you, you know how to / Go and break my heart in two
or
There’s worse things I can take / I know you hate it / When there’s nothing to say / I’m not sure we’d fix it / Guess we’re so used to it
79) Something Real by Schmigadoon!
I can’t tell you what you’re feeling / I can’t tell just what you feel / But touch my hand and I am reeling / Feels like this is something real
80) Scum by Lovejoy
I feel I’ve reached the end before I’ve reached death (oh-woo) / Pick up the pieces of me, you can have what’s left
81) Warsaw by Lovejoy
It’s good for me, I’m sure, I’m sure it’s good for me / I thought / I’d do anything you ask of me, that’s sure / What for?
or
It doesn’t get any better / You can try and try / But you’re just a cog in the machine / Apathy comforts me like a cell comforts an inmate / It won’t get better, I assure you / Make no mistake, we’re all going to end up in the dirt / I’ll be seeing you soon
or
She hopes to God that I just choke / She hopes to God that I just choke / She hopes to God that I just choke / And it gets a little easier
82) Consequences by Lovejoy
Do you ever feel like you fell off for about a year / I’d like to have another go / Cause I haven’t slept in about a week / I stay up thinking I will die
or
I wish I tried more, wish I tried more / Wish I tried / What’s this? / The consequences of my actions, now
(Lovejoy you understand Nova on a scary perfect level)
83) Alone by Nicholas Hamilton
Alone is not what it once was / Oh, remember when it was nice / Alone is just trying to survive / When the only one to talk to is your mind / Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh / But I’m getting pretty sick of my mind
84) The Hero by Nathan Hanover Synthonic Orchestra (GenLoss Soundtrack)
There’s no lyrics but this theme just fits Nova so well especially with the implications of “The Hero” and how that effected gl!Ranboo just trust me on this one
85) Disco! in the Panic Room by Bug Hunter
I am more the quiet type / I tend to be a shier guy / As safe as knee and elbow pads in cul de sacs with traffic lights / I spend most of my time alone / It’s not all that bad you know / I lost some weight from anxious pacing talking on the telephone
or
If I look brave I’m secretly / Pretending I’m a different me / The one on stage who plays and / Sings and claps and shouts and basically / Behind the door / Just out of view / Dancing in the panic room
86) Promise by Laufey
Honestly, I didn’t think about / How we didn’t say goodbye / Just see you very soon / It hurts to be something / It’s worse to be nothing with you
or
I’ve done the math / There’s no solution / We’ll never last / Why can’t I let go of this?
--
That’s the whole playlist! I started this post a year ago but never finished it and last night was the last session of our main campaign (at least until we can hopefully pick things up next summer) so I figured it’d be a good time to post it. I love my baby and honestly I’m pretty proud of this playlist, so here you go internet :D
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nymphastoriasblog · 2 years
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MODERN!LUCA CHANGRETTA WITH A PREGNANT WIFE 🕊💞
this man is the epitome of elegancy, class and perfection. he’s my husband wish.
warnings: fluff.
requested by: @thereddahliaa (i hope you enjoy this)
nymphastoria’s masterlist
buy the chaotic author a coffee ☕️
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when you first told Luca you were pregnant he was simply THE HAPPIEST MAN IN THE WOLRD
it has always been his biggest dream to become a father and you were the love of his life
he took you in his arms and hold you tenderly, kissing the top of your head and smiling
the rest of that day was just him planning everything, even the dresses you were going to use every month of your pregnancy
Luca already ordered to a bedroom in your house to be emptied and set up the new furniture for the baby
he couldn’t even sleep in the first days of pregnancy because of excitement
he was always praising you and saying how gorgeous you were carrying his baby and his legacy
he told his family and they all planned a big lunch on a sunday to congratulate you guys
your baby was only a bean in your belly but already had a ton of toys that was given by the Changretta’s family
Luca have chosen the names, you didn’t mind since you didn’t know any good name for your baby
but Luca has a great taste, as we all know, and choose the best and most unique names ever
He even took a break from business to spend more time with you
singing in italian to your bump every night
and holding you while sleeping, not letting you move an inch
he takes so much care of you, massaging your feet, brushing your hair, buying new lotions to use on you and massaging your back
he takes you to walks on a park near your house and to see ducks in a lake
he even got you a puppy because you said you wanted to
and luca’s was totally happy to get you snacks in the middle of night because of cravings
“Anything for my queen”
he saw on youtube and tried on you a thing
Luca sat on the bed, legs open and asked you to sit with your back on his chest and between his legs
you did that and he involved you on his arms and lifted your bump, releasing the weight for you for a couple minutes
that was enough to relief you, and Luca did that every night during the last three months of pregnancy
when you got into labour was pretty funny because Luca planned everything and was pretty confident about it
so when you started to feel the first pains he started to freak out and called his cousins to help you take you to the hospital
everything end up well, you gave birth to a little babygirl, Luca’s princess
Luca was so melted by the little human he was holding in his arms on the hospital that he forgot about you
He only had eyes for his girl
By that moment, Luca put on his mind that he would kill anyone who dare to look at his girl without his consent
It was his world right there, fitting is his hand
When he remembered that his wife was almost melting in the bed he gave the baby to the nurse (he didn���t want to, though) and kissed your forehead
He was there to take care of you all the time you were in the hospital and when you got home too
Remember when I said that the babygirl was Luca’s princess? I mean it
LUCA LITERALLY BOUGHT A TIARA FOR HIS BABY because she’s a real princess
Luca’s life goal was to spoil the baby and give her everything she wanted
Thats the purpose of his existence
He now could die happy, he has his queen and his princess
He obviously taught her to speak italian before english, which pissed you off but you find it cute after all
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steddiesupportgroup · 2 years
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Man, for a show I’ve fallen in love with and had so much anticipation for, I ended up kinda wishing I hadn’t watched vol2.
Spoilers and a huge rant under the cut
The whole time I was literally shaking with nerves about what was gonna happen to Eddie, to all of them. His last moments (the whole last two eps honestly) dragged on for what felt like hours. It wasn’t fun; it was nerve wracking. And yeah, maybe it’s my bad for getting so attached to a fictional character in a show where people die, but so what? He makes us happy in a time where things aren’t going super well, brought us comfort. If we can’t use fiction as an escape, what’s the point of it?
All that aside, I’m still disappointed about other things. El saying goodbye to Brenner and finding her strength was great, as was the whole thing with Hopper, but other than that? I spent the whole four hours dreading what was gonna happen. I feel like they took the whole “all hope is lost” thing way too far. Watching Lucas hold Max while she begged to die made me fucking sick, as did watching Eddie sacrifice himself. I hate this trend of having people guess who’s gonna die, it’s just sad. Lucas getting beaten up by Jason, who, yeah he died, but didn’t get what he deserved. He was grieving and deranged, and then he was nothing.
And like they touched on Steve’s character arc for a split second before taking ten steps back. I don’t believe that he wants to get back with Nancy because he keeps finding new people in his life, new experiences that change his worldview. Why go back to a girl that is hung up on someone else? This isn’t even a steddie thing- they could’ve touched on his growth without involving her. He’s someone who protects people now, who keeps putting others before himself and doesn’t stop fighting no matter what. Maybe he doesn’t even need a canon relationship to find worth and value. The dream with the kids was cute, but he’s so much more than some guy who can save the world but can’t move on from his first love. I want them to have love for each other, but they both need more.
And man, Nancy and Jonathan are really dragging on. I like them as a couple, really! But couldn’t they have other conflict? Or keep the conflict without involving Steve? All that buildup for them to lie to each other about how good they are, it just doesn’t make sense. I expected Jonathan to tell her the truth about college, or have him circle back to thinking about what it would look like if they kept holding on.
And yeah, Robin and Vicki at the end was just some hetero “we don’t know how to write queer relationships” bullshit. Just because they’re both girls and can have things in common doesn’t mean they need to be the same person. Robin deserves better than that, even someone who knows what she’s been through (winking at you ronance shippers).
I knew Byler wasn’t gonna happen, but man, they really couldn’t have had Will and Jonathan have a better conversation? Even at the end? It’s like “everyone knows so it doesn’t need to be said” but why not?? How is Will any different from Robin, who is somehow the only character who can openly talk about her queerness? Because he’s a boy? Because he’s young and in love with his best friend? I don’t wanna watch him cry in the back of the van with Mike if they’re not gonna have some kinda resolution.
I am gonna keep talking about Eddie, actually. His death was wretched, yeah. But the thing that breaks my heart is that now his name is tainted beyond death, and the people who loved him are silenced and pushed to the side. The Munson Murders, what a tragic end for a character who was so loving, so kind and gracious to everyone around him. And how are the writers gonna act like no one else in the group is bothered by his supposed death? They got to know Eddie, they risked everything to save him, and you can’t tell me that it’s business as usual after all that. If he is dead, it’s the worst insult to his memory. Ya know what’s better than dying a hero? Getting justice! Living to see another day with the people who love you! He could’ve become a braver person if he lived and he was already a fucking hero, because just like Steve, he cares about the kids. I can’t imagine what Dustin will go through and I really don’t want to.
So yeah. I know that the writers won’t see this, but I hope with enough pushback they’ll revive his character. If they can do it with Brenner after having his brain turned to mush, they can do it with Eddie after getting the same wounds as Steve. Especially after El brought Max back from the dead.
And man don’t even get me started on Netflix feeding into the Eddie love the whole time, it feels so vicious of them. Rbing steddie fanart and acting like his character was going somewhere. Like we get that little tidbit about Eddie’s dad teaching him to hotwire a car and for what? To never see him again? I don’t believe it.
Okay, I need to stop. Thanks for reading, I’ll be writing a fix-it fic within the next few days <3
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n1k1tty · 3 years
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kiss me ! part 1
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jake was definitely head over heals for your cold personality, and he wasn't going to let anyone take you. but heres the problem: he couldn't find a single way to keep a conversation with you. despite your scary demeanour, jake decides to man up and does everything out of his will to get you.
fluff, jake x reader, (not proofread)
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jake was frustrated to know that many guys have been after you the second you stepped in that classroom doing the bare minimum.
hearing ‘wanna grab lunch with me?’ here and there somehow always made him ball his fist to prevent himself from being a problem. yet again he couldn’t blame other people for wanting to ask you out either. he even sometimes wished that you had rejected him so he could move on. although of course he didn’t really mean that.
because now he was wandering around the school looking for you while he was on a “bathroom break” during his soccer practice. he knew you always liked to stay at the school rooftops admiring the view while listening to music. not like he was stalking you or anything...
you turn your head to look at the person at the door "you again? when are you going to leave me alone? pervert" you scoff, kicking the little pieces of rocks as you avoid jakes eyes. it was almost the millionth time you've seen jake this day, and it was always for the same reason, to piss you off, well more like ask you out --which still pisses you off.
you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?
you weren't one to believe in love, or maybe just not yet. because you weren't even sure if you were capable enough to love someone. even the thought of having to be so sweet and touchy with each other grossed you out, and of all people, jake especially knew that. so why was he so determined to get you to fall in love with him?
"hmmm maybe never?" jake chuckles at the sight of you rolling your eyes "then i'll move schools --countries if that's what takes for you to leave me alone" as you turn around and face him, eyes widened at the thin space between the both of you "and maybe i'll find you"
you raise your eyebrows "well that's borderline criminal act" you wander off "now sim jaeyun i think it's best for you to leave before you add up to my anger --i mean you already are. but wouldn't that be horrible?" jake's eyes follow you as you drag your feet "not really" he states "you're hot when you're mad"
you scoff out of disbelief, hitting him hard on his arm, looking away almost immediately as you trying to hide your heated face "shut up before i'll push you off this building" letting go of the grip you once had on his collar, "alright, alright sorry ma'am. but if you're really mad for whatever reason, come with me. i'll take you to a place" he suggests, offering his hand for you to take "you should be happy. i normally wouldn't even consider letting anyone know about my spot" he shoots you a grin
you take time trying to consider his offer, but as much as you don't want to stroke his ego about convincing you to go with him, you really needed something to release your anger "as long as you shut up about this" you give him a side glance "no promises" he sends a wink your way "ugh, fine"
he gently takes your hand as he drags you out of the school "can you jump over the wall?" jake looks at your flustered face "....no..?" you answer, making a line with your lips, causing him to let out a small chuckle "okay cutie, i'll help you up" you cringe at the nickname "call me that again and i'll break your neck" you step on his knee as he tries to boost you up "yeah that's right, keep going"
but as jake looks up he couldn't help but feel flustered, looking away "i made it!" you pant, hands resting on your knees as you wait for jake to come up as well. but after a few seconds of not hearing him, you call out his name, peaking your head over the wall "jake? i swear to god if you leave me out here i'm killing you"
"n-no i didn't leave you" he stutters, trying to collect himself from being a flustered mess "then come up here! the sun is setting, you wouldn't want to miss it"
"y-yeah it's just that i uh, i saw.....your....you know?" he explains, his hands not knowing what to do "you saw my what!?" you shrieked "no no it's okay i looked away!" he reassures you "ugh, just- just come up here!" you yell, already walking ahead as you try to cool down your heating face "so pink aye?" jake jokes, catching up to you
"SIM JAEYUN!" you yell, kicking him on his ass "ow! okay sorry!"
jake was resting his head on his hands, watching as you play with the small puddle while watching the sunset, not even an hour in, jake panics as he sees the amount of missed calls from riki "oh shit! my soccer practice!"
--
the following days after that, almost everything remained the same, jake continuously teasing and flirting with you, you getting in trouble for the littlest things, never coming home until the latest of the hour. but yet again, almost everything remained the same
you were now in denial of your feelings towards sim jaeyun. it would hurt too much of your pride to actually admit it, because after all, you've always told sim jaeyun you hated him.
you groan "jake, there's a reason why i'm failing english, okay? just accept the fact that i'm the worst" you bury your head on the pages of your book, seated across jake at the back of the library "i didn't even ask for you to help me! i simply just asked for your notes that just happened to have a first grader's hand writing" he scoffs, a little taken back by your sudden insult on his hand writing "thanks? i know you didn't ask for help, i just wanted to do this with you so that you don't get detention for not knowing proper english" he explains, handing you another sheet of paper with an 54 circled on the right corner "seriously y/n? 54? come on, one last set of questions and i'll take you to the new cafe just across the street"
and almost immediately, you bring your head up, grabbing the pen and taking the set of questions. making jake giggle "y/n, just say that you like me, you know i'm not going to reject you-- ow!" you smack him on the head with the pencil "that's absolute nonsense!" you whisper with a harsh voice, digging your face on the note book as you try to cover the little smile you had on your face
i think it was safe to say you got 4 out of 10 right, causing you to almost have a mental breakdown at the library "i can't do this sim" you groan "i think you just need a break yeah? wanna head to the cafe?" jake stands up to pack your stuff, giggling at the sight of your head still buried in between the pages of the book "c'mon y/n" he kneels beside you "get up, let's go to that cafe"
you've never felt your pride hurt as much as this did, having to show jake how bad your were at english, him having to tutor you without you asking for help, and jake bringing you to the cafe even though you weren't even remotely close to getting at least 6 right
and you weren't exaggerating when when you say jake had to drag you all the way to the cafe "hi! what can i get for you today sir?" the girl says, the obvious heart eyes she has for him pissing you off even more "hi yeah i'd like to have a caramel machiatto" he responds politely, smiling at the obvious glare you held at the girl, poking out your tongue after she was called by the manager, an old lady replaces her "anything else for your girlfriend--" before you could correct her, jake immediately speaks up "she'll have (drink)"
he smiles at the old lady before paying "i'm sending you money later whether you like it or not" you roll your eyes "and i'll send it back" he holds your waist as he leads you to a table, causing your heart to beat 10 times faster "yeah? well i'll send it back to you again! i'll keep doing it until you die!" he scoffs at you "as if!"
--
even after multiple attempts of trying to make jake ask you out, the boy who you thought was so smart couldn't take a single hint at all.
but in jake's defence, you were a little bad, considering how bad you were with boys, he vividly remembers that one time when you were trying so hard to make him jealous by talking to other guys. he even laughed as you struggled to keep up with a conversation.
or that other time when you tried to hold his hand just to do something romantic just for once but ended up letting go because he wouldn't stop teasing you about it. he still took your hand, yet he never asked you out still.
"you okay darling?" your mother asks, taking a quick glance at your droopy form leaning on the counter as you wait for her to finish cooking "is it a boy?" she teases, making you perk your head up "i knew it!" she gives you an endearing smile as she gives you a plate with eggs on it, a heart shaped ketchup placed on the top of the egg "mom!" you whine
"okay fine, it is a boy. but don't tell dad" you whisper, smiling once she zips her lips "what's his name?" she asked, tilting her head as she leans on the counter in front of you "jake"
"jake?! i love jake! you should invite him over sometime" she squeals "he's a nice guy, i'm sure he wouldn't hurt you, so what's bothering you?" you sigh, taking a sip of the water "he likes me, it's like the whole world knows. but he just keeps on flirting with me and never actually tries to ask me out" you pout, aggressively taking a bit of the scrambled eggs, making your mother chuckle "oh baby, i'm sure it'll happen soon. just give him some time! unless if you're that impatient, then maybe you should try considering to be the one who makes the first move" she walks away, heading upstairs
no, as much as you hate it, that would hurt too much of your pride. so you decided to wait.
--
summer just had started and you couldn't even explain how much you hated the heat. staying under the shade 70% of the time whenever you went out with jake and his friends "guys! i have an announcement" jay yells, you were currently over at jay's house, just having a little party with just the 8 of you "my father booked us a trip to hawaii"
"WHAT?!"
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part 2
— HEY 👵🏽 so i decided that this would be a multiple part story bcs i didnt want it to be too long!
i haven’t written the second part yet, but hopefully i’d have it done before tuesday
feel free to ask if you want to be tagged once the second chapter is out!
this has been n1k1tty! see ya!
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parkersbliss · 3 years
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Tough | K. Brekker
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pairing: kaz brekker x reader
warnings: blood, cursing, kaz being a simp
wc; 2K
synopsis: mission gone wrong… gone right?
prompts: 028: “hey, hey, hey, I’m right here.” 030: “you could’ve died!”
a/n: I don’t know how I always end up so off track
Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List
“This is ridiculous,” Jesper hisses, looking between you and Inej. “Someone tell him that!”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell Kaz to back out of a job? No way.”
“I prefer to keep my head,” Inej said.
Jesper rolls his eyes. “You’ll lose it either way at this point!”
“Jesper, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not! Do you realize how-”
“Shut up, Jesper,” Kaz scowled through the earpiece.
Jesper mumbles something under his breath, but you don’t catch it.
“How’s everything looking, Kaz?” Inej asked.
“One last round of guards, and then you two can come in.”
You nod, securing your gun in place as you stand up.
“If you two don’t come back, I told you so!” Jesper said.
“If we don’t come back, we probably ditched you,” You quip back.
Jesper scoffs, standing up. “At least I still have Wylan.”
“No, you don’t,” Wylan responded through the earpiece.
Jesper throws his hands in the air, “No one appreciates the voice of wisdom around here.”
“(Y/N), Inej, go.”
Inej takes the lead, climbing the gate and dropping safely on the other side. You follow after and make a run for the main entrance. You hide behind a column, holding your breath as two guards walk back to their posts. A hand sticks out from the opposite column on you, and Inej makes a hand signal that means go.
With what you hope are quiet footsteps, you emerge from behind the column and follow Inej to the hallway to the left. You patiently wait as two Grisha emerge from the bedrooms, and in the span of a few seconds, it takes the door to close; you both rush in.
Inej opens the closet, throwing you a kefta, and you gasp at the softness of the fabric.
“Do you think we can keep these?” You jokingly ask.
“Unless you want to be an even bigger target in Ketterdam: I’d advise not.”
“They’re bulletproof and warm,” You said, slipping on the blue kefta with red and yellow detailing.
Inej only hums as she slips hers on, which has green swirls embellished on it.
“Tidemaker,” You said.
“Inferni,” Inej replied. “Suits you.”
You both walk out of the bedroom, the kefta’s making it easier to walk through the palace undetected. The Grisha all automatically assumed you belonged there. They didn’t bother to take a good look at your face.
“Status?” Kaz asked.
“On track,” You said softly, passing by two Grisha’s.
Kaz nods on his side, dressed as a guard inside of the palace. He waits patiently by the door for the two of you. He can just barely spot Wylan in the distance, acting as a servant to the Queen.
She was too stuck up to ever notice or acknowledge any of the servant's names. Similar to the Mercher’s back in Ketterdam.
What snobs they are.
Kaz watches as you and Inej round the corner. The Kefta’s fit both of you surprisingly well. He nods at you two, giving Wylan one last glance before going to unlock the Queen’s room. His fingers and quick, and the lock cracks open in a few seconds.
In those few seconds, someone screams. You can hear Wylan laughing nervously before being pinned down by a guard.
Kaz instantly stops what he’s doing as you all watch the scene unfold. They disarm him, grabbing a remote and throwing it across the floor.
“Get back!” Kaz shouts as the button lands first onto the ground. There’s a moment of silence, utter stillness as you and Inej look toward the Queen’s room, and then it explodes. The blast echoes through the castle and shatters everything. Pieces of rumble rain down as the building begins to shake.
You slam against the adjacent wall, coughing at the dust and groaning. Blood trickles down from your forehead, and your entire body aches.
A low moan catches your attention, and you look up to see a crystal chandelier, cracks surrounding the ceiling it was attached to.
“(Y/N)!” You can hear Kaz scream as it gives way.
You don’t have enough time to get away, you know that. Your vision was still blurry, a loud ringing in your ears. You were too disoriented to even comprehend the idea of being pierced with the decorative piece.
But Kaz isn’t.
He lunges forward, tackling you to the opposite end and shielding you with his body. He’s holding his breath the entire time, counting in his head and reminding himself that it’s just you. If he lets go, then you’ll be dead.
Don’t let go. He repeats it like a mantra inside his head, focusing on the sound of glass shattering as you both skid across the floor.
Sharp glass shards pierce his jacket and skin, but he’s barely fazed by it. It gives him something else to focus on other than the feeling of you.
“Don’t move,” You said quietly, and you can see his eyes widen because by saints he needs to, or he’s going to pass out. “Kaz, if you move, you’re going to push a piece of glass further into yourself.”
He starts shaking his head because the feeling of you breathing under him is overwhelming. Your voice had snapped him out of his daze, and now he was fully aware and fully scared. He doesn't know why. It's you and you were the one person he wishes he could be able to touch, but right now, he can't.
“I can’t,” He whispers.
“Kaz, don’t.”
“Please.”
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here,” You assure. “I’m alive, okay? Just breathe slowly until I can get out.”
Kaz closes his eyes and breathes deeply. Every nerve in his body is screaming. It’s worse than the shard of glass sticking out of him. He can’t do it.
“Kaz!” You scream as he rolls off of you and onto the floor.
Almost instantly, the glass pierces through him, and he groans. There’s a huge shard sticking out of his stomach, and you can feel panic surging through you.
Your instincts overwhelm the pain, and your senses come rushing back to you. There’s no way you can grab the glass without cutting yourself in the process, and Kaz would bleed out before you can do anything.
“Kaz Brekker, don’t you dare die on me.”
“I’m not trying to,” He hisses back.
“Inej!” You shout, searching for the Suli girl through the rubble.
“A healer,” Kaz coughs out. “You look Grisha, call for a healer.”
You blink, still amazed how Kaz’s mind is still working, before standing up. “Healer!”
On cue, a girl with a red kefta and silver detailing runs over from the area where Wylan was. You don’t want to imagine how many others are hurt. Behind her is Inej, who nods at you, and you thank the saints for her.
“I need to get the glass out," The healer said.
You look at her, then back to Kaz. “Okay. I can do that. Trust me."
“What you did was stupid,” You said to Kaz, kneeling down by his side once more.
“You were going to die,” he protests weakly.
You slowly grip the glass tightly, trying to ignore the sharp sting of it as the jagged sides cut through your skin.
“You could’ve died!” You scowl, but Kaz could hear the fear in your voice. “You still could.”
“It’s better me than you.”
“No, it isn’t,” You reply, “Kaz, how can you not see it?”
“See what?”
“That I'm in love with you!”
His eyes widen, and at that moment, you grab the glass and yank it out. Kaz screams out in pain, shutting his eyes. “Fuck!”
It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him curse.
The healer jumps into action. She leans over Kaz, and with a single motion of her hand, stitches him up.
She looks at you, and before you can say anything, she heals the cut on your forehead and the gashes on your hands.
“Thank you,” You said.
She nods, and Inej thanks her as well before turning her attention back to you and Kaz. “We need to go, like now. Wylan’s already running out the door as we speak.”
You nod, looking to Kaz. “Okay, can you walk?”
Inej hands him his cane, and he uses it to steady himself. “I can.”
“Okay… can you run?”
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Inej said, tugging on your kefta and gesturing to the guards eyeing you down.
“We’re running!” You announce, taking off with Inej and Kaz on your heels. The guards immediately start pursuing you, and you try to lose them in the many hallways.
“Where the hell is Jesper when you need him?”
“Right here!”
“I’m here as well!” Nina shouts, coming to a stop behind him. “The Kefta’s suit you two.”
“Thanks.”
Jesper winks before beginning to fire as Nina drops their heart rate.
“I take it the mission was unsuccessful?” Nina asked, turning to run when the guards become too many.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jesper said.
“I would,” Kaz seethed.
“Yes, well, you happen to be the most pessimistic person here,” Jesper replied, firing a shot at an approaching guard.
“(Y/N) confessed her love for Kaz,” Inej said through labored breaths, finally reaching the exit.
Nina whirls to face you, “What?”
“About damn time,” Jesper grumbled, ignoring the look Kaz gives him.
You roll your eyes at him, grateful to see your getaway carriage on time.
“And then she pulled a piece of glass out of him,” Inej added, opening the door and hopping into the carriage.
“Oh wow, that’s really the cherry on top of it, isn’t it?” Jesper asked sarcastically.
“You guys are the only people that gossip while being chased down with guns,” Your driver, Matthias, chuckled.
“When else are we supposed to be doing it?” Nina asked, getting into the seat next to him and grabbing the reins.
“Oh sorry, didn’t realize there’s a time and place for it. I’ll stop being a criminal and getting chased now,” You sassily replied, climbing in behind Kaz.
“Just go!”
Nina and Matthias don’t have to be told twice, and you all take off, leaving empty-handed, or so you thought.
Jesper and Wylan sit across from Inej, you, and Kaz. The curly-haired boy holds a bag tightly to his chest, and you’re not oblivious to it.
“What’s in the bag?” Inej asked.
Jesper grins. “Why thank you for asking. Care to share, Wylan?”
The boy rolls his eyes and opens the bag, revealing a crown.
“Oh my god,” You gasp.
“I told you we weren’t leaving empty-handed,” Jesper smirks, leaning back and ruffling his boyfriend's hair.
“How?” Kaz asked.
“Stole it from the queen after the explosion and quite literally ran for my life.”
“We taught him well.”
The ride back to Os Kervo is long, and most of the Dregs fall asleep, except for Nina and Matthias, of course.
Inej rests her head against the window, using her hoodie and scarf as a pillow. Jesper does the same, with Wylan resting on his shoulder.
However, you’re wide awake, not finding a comfortable position to sleep in.
“Did you mean it?” Kaz whispered, turning to face you.
His features stick out more in the moonlight, casting sharp shadows across his face. His blue eyes feel like they're piercing you in a single gaze.
“Mean what?”
“What you said before you yanked the glass out of me, or was it just a distraction?”
“Oh,” You said softly. “I meant it.”
“I mean it too.”
You raise a questioning eyebrow at him.
Kaz realizes he has to say it back. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he felt like a child once again. There were butterflies in his stomach as he speaks. “I love you too.”
“Is that so?” You ask, a slightly teasing tone to your voice, and he knows it.
“I don’t risk my life for just anyone.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“I also don’t offer my shoulder to sleep on to anyone.”
Your eyes brighten. “Kaz?”
He gives you a small smile, “I can take it.”
“Are you sure?”
“If it means both of us get some shut-eye, yes.”
A slow smile spread across your face as you pull up your own hoodie, having shed the Kefta long ago. It was too bulky for you.
You slowly let your head fall onto his shoulder, and his breathing stutters for a brief moment before relaxing again when he can feel your heartbeat. It should freak him out, and it does, but he stays strong. That’s what you do for the people you love.
You tough it out.
That, and Kaz falls asleep a few moments later with his own head resting on yours.
— END —
🏷 Kaz Brekker Taglist: @ms-awkward @kykymyeon @alcottsangel @kaqua
want to be added? click here!
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snackhobi · 4 years
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a human touch, part I
Part [1] / 1.5 / 2
(masterlist here)
pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)
summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v. 
then he turns up at your door. 
warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧
a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif​ for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!
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Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.
One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within. 
Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.
Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.
And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.
“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”
You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.
“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”
“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”
“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”
The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.
Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”
“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”
Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.
Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?
“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”
Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”
You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.
“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”
“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”
“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over. 
“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”
You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.
No human could ever look this good.
“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”
Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.
“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”
You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”
V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”
Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.
The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”
You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”
You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”
“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight. 
V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.
“After you, please,” he says.
You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.
“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”
“Not as pretty as you.”
You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.
“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”
You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”
You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.
“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”
The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”
“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”
You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed.  It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on. 
(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)
“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.
V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”
You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code. 
“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”
V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.
“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”
V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.
“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.
“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”
You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time. 
The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.
It's just depressing, really.
You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”
V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.
“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”
His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”
“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”
You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”
“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”
He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.
“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”
His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”
“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”
(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)
You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?
“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”
Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water. 
“Purple.”
You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine. 
You think it suits him better.
“Purple’s a lovely colour.”  The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”
V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”
“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”
You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious. 
He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new. 
When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”
“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.
“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”
“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”
There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”
“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”
“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed. 
Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.
“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”
V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”
It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.
When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”
“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?” 
“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”
The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone. 
At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.
“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.
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It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.
Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one. 
“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”
“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”
“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”
He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”
You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.
The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.
“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.
By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.
You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.
The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”
You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.
“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”
He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they? 
Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.
“Y/n.” 
The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.
“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”
Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.
When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.
“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”
There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”
You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.
“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”
When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—
“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”
You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure—and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.
And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.
“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”
His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper. 
The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.
“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”
You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.
There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go. 
V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?
His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.
“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”
“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.
“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”
It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked. 
He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—
You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs. 
“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.
“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”
“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”
V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.
“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”
V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”
Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least). 
“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”
They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.
“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”
“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”
“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”
Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.
“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”
V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.
“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.
At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.
“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.
“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”
You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”
“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”
You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”
And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?
“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”
The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.
Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.
V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)
He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.
“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.
“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”
“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for. 
His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good. 
You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.
“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”
He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone. 
“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.
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Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.
Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend. 
“Good morning.”
You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.
The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way. 
You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.
Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.
V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”
Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.
“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.
“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”
Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.
As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.
“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”
Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.
“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”
V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”
Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God. 
“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”
V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”
Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.
This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.
He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.
“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”
Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”
“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”
V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”
“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”
Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence. 
“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”
The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”
“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”
V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”
“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”
V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”
“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”
V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.
(Of course, you never do.)
This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things. 
The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.
“All done?”
“I think so.”
“Nice.” You feel content.
But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.
“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.
You promptly roll off the sofa.
Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.
Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”
The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.” 
Ah. 
“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.” 
“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.
You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.
“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”
One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.
V looks utterly enraptured.
“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”
V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”
“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”
V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.
“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.
V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.
“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.
“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”
You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new. 
But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.
Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.
V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.
“Go for it,” you say.
Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.
The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.
The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.
Just for an instant.
He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased. 
The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—
But then V laughs. 
His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.
“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”
“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples. 
The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.
His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.
You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)
“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.
“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.
“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.
“For what?”
“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”
The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”
He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.
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Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice. 
You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.
So here he is.
(And here you are.)
It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.
“Morning,” he says.
“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”
Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.
V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.
You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.
You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.
“I won’t be long,” you promise.
When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.
“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”
You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off. 
He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.
“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.
“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”
“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”
“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”
Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”
“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”
Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”
The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”
(Thank God.)
You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.
He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.
“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.
The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.
And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.
(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)
Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)
“I have to go to work tomorrow.”
V tilts his head down to look at you.
“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”
Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.
“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”
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(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.
“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”
So you do.)
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(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—
“Morning.”
V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.
“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)
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You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.
But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.
It’s… nice.
You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.
“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”
KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs. 
“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.
“Oh?” 
“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.
“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”
He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight. 
Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality. 
(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)
You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own. 
(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.
Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)
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(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)
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taglist: @beyoncesdragon​
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stardusttrashed · 2 years
Text
Last Kiss - Levi Ackerman
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Pairing: slight furlan x f!reader, levi x f!reader
WC: 6.7k
CW: sooo much angst, mentions of death, injury, grieving, swearing, suggestive at the end (lmk if I missed anything (: )
AN: whoever requested this, first off, I love you so much!! I didn't know how much I needed this. Second I'm soo sorry it took me forever- writer's block is ass
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This couldn’t be happening. It had been some kind of dream. No, dreams are sweet. They’re where wishes can come to life. They were nothing like this. No, this was a nightmare. Faces you’ve come to know passed you with usual post-expedition gloominess. Every face but two that you longed to see the most. The two that managed to brighten your day more than the sun ever could. Where? Where were-?
**
“Aren’t kisses supposed to be special?” you asked in a hushed voice, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the thought. That’s what the stories you always read told you. Kisses were supposed to be these magical moments shared with someone special. Right?
“I mean, of course,” Furlan spoke with a hint of a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “They can be sure.”
You hummed in response, only really half-listening as your mind wandered elsewhere. Was a kiss really something that needs to be held onto with an iron grip? Sure, it can make it feel more special, but-.
Furlan leaned closer to you and whispered in your ear, derailing your train of thought. “Got someone special you’re thinking of saving those kisses for?”
“What?” you squealed in surprise, whipping your head towards him. You winced in pain as your forehead knocked against his with a dull thud. “Ah, n-no,” you stuttered out while holding your forehead. 
You were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, well, aside from Isabel, but she felt too much like a sister to tease like this. Whenever he’d think you couldn’t get any prettier, moments like this would prove him wrong. He thought the sun was the only thing he’d missed out on when he lived underground, but here you were, a beacon of warmth and light even at night.
Furlan smiled to himself as he noticed you didn’t make any move to put space between the both of you. “Relax, I was joking- mostly anyways,” he whispered the last part. His words mingled with the quietness of the room until he wasn’t even sure himself if they had left his lips or if they remained tucked away in his head. “But now I’m kind of curious.” 
Panic was rising in your chest under his gaze. He doesn’t have to know the truth, right? He’s sweet and all, but what difference did one small lie make?  “I, well,” you sighed in defeat before squeezing your eyes shut, leaning in, prepared to shut him up with a kiss despite the thundering heartbeat in your ears. 
Furlan’s eyes went wide as you leaned closer with slightly puckered lips. “Y/n, wait,” he stuttered, gently pushing you away by your shoulders. He raked his brain as he tried to determine if the warmth in his cheeks was him still adjusting to the above world or if it was your doing. “You don’t have to give up any of your kisses if you don’t want to. It’s cute to save them. And I,” he subconsciously tightened his grip on your shoulder a little as the heat on his cheeks became almost unbearable. It was never this hard to talk to Levi or even Isabel. “I’m sure whoever you kiss, whether it’s your first or hundredth, will feel special, yeah?” 
You squeezed your eyes tighter for a moment as you tried your hardest to ignore the growing embarrassment bubbling inside you. “Furlan,” you managed to whisper after collecting yourself a little. “Can you?” You opened your eyes, greeted by Furlan’s warm, slightly concerned gaze. “I don’t want to hold onto a kiss and then maybe, well, y’know-.” You shifted awkwardly, eyes flitting down to the ground. “I don’t want to go on one of these missions and die without ever being kissed.” 
“I doubt that’ll happen. You and Levi are incredible with your gears.” He trailed off in thought, his eyes falling to your lips. “But, if you’re sure.” 
You pursed your lips in thought before nodding. Who else was going to do it? Wait, no, that came off wrong. It’s more like, who else is trustworthy enough, made you feel comfortable enough to give away your kisses?
**
Furlan. Where was Furlan? And Isabel? And Levi? Your eyes frantically scanned the crowd, your heart sinking every second. They promised they’d be back. They swore it! So maybe they were just at the back of the group. They have to be. Right?
**
“Aren’t you gonna do your little good luck kisses, or whatever you call it?” Isabel asked with a teasing smirk before shoveling another spoonful of food into her mouth. 
You sputtered as your soup went down the wrong windpipe. “W-what?” you coughed out. You blinked back the tears and mumbled a quiet thanks as you took the cup of water Levi held out to you. 
“It’s weird and a little gross,” she continued, her voice muffled by the food she pushed into her cheek to speak. “But,” you watched her chew a few times before swallowing, “it’s cute.” 
“You know about those?” you finally managed to ask after a moment. 
“You’re not exactly sneaky about it,” Levi feigned disinterest despite the red tinting the tip of his ears. 
“And Furlan here might’ve let it slip that you were his first.”
You ignored Levi’s bored eye roll and looked at Furlan across from you, “I was?” You had been giving each other kisses every day for over a month, yet you never thought to ask. With every “in case the walls cave in” or “good luck keeping Levi and Flagon from being at each other’s throats,” it was hard to think of a time when neither of you had been kissed. 
“So, is he a good kisser?”
“Isabel,” Levi said warningly, his fingers curling tighter around his spoon. He didn’t want to sit here and listen to this right now. But at the same time, what had Furlan even said to get you to kiss him? Did he just ask? Or maybe you asked him. Was it because you liked each other? 
“Better yet, do you two like each other?” Isabel plucked the thought from Levi’s mind, bolder than him to ask such a thing.
Furlan noticed Levi freeze like a child caught in an act before quickly shaking his head.
“We’re friends, that’s all,” you both blurted out simultaneously. 
“He’s just one of the only people I thought would be okay with the idea, that’s all,” you muttered as you poked at your bread. You quickly glanced at Levi, your eyes meeting his unexpectedly before you looked back down at your plate in a panic.
**
Your fingers rose to your lips, ghosting over the slightly chapped skin. He– no, they were coming back. They’d be here. Furlan, Isabel, and Levi. You replayed the list in your head as you could see the last of the scouts returning. Furlan, Isabel, and Levi. The voice in your head grew louder with panic. Furlan, Isabel, and-. 
“Levi!” You rushed to his side, “thank the walls!” You flung your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. Relief washed over you as the earthy smell of his cloak filled your senses. You didn’t care that he didn’t hug you back. He was never one for public affection, but he let you hold him. Holding him in your arms for a second felt like a lifetime. And for a moment, all your worries melted away. 
When it took longer than usual to hear Furlan’s and Isabel’s excited voices call out to you, you reluctantly pulled away, looking over his shoulder for the other two faces that always made you feel at home. But instead of relieved smiles, all that met you was a bleak and empty landscape. 
“Where are-?” The shattering feeling in your chest stopped your words short as you looked into his obsidian eyes. They were colder than a shelterless stormy winter night, filled with a look you’ve become familiar with on the faces of others. “Levi,” you breathed out brokenly. You blinked back the tears and bit the inside of your cheek until the taste of copper touched your tongue. “How are you?” It was a dumb question, but it was all you could think of.
Levi watched you reach out for his cheek with a blank stare as he fought to suppress the hollow feeling in his chest. Your touch was a welcoming warmth after everything, almost too welcoming. Did he deserve to be the one coming back? The one embracing your warmth?  “I-.” His eyebrows knitted together as you licked your thumb and tried your best to wipe the dried blood off his cheek. 
“How bout we get you clean and into some fresh clothes? I snuck your clothes into the wash earlier so you’d come back to clean clothes.” You didn’t want him to talk about it if he didn’t want to. Or maybe you couldn’t hear him talk right now. “I’ll even make you tea while you shower, and we can hang in my room after.” You gave your best attempt to smile encouragingly, but it was more like desperately fighting back your tears. “I promise it’s clean this time.”
Levi chuckled dryly as he took your hand from his cheek in his. “Let the tea actually steep this time. No one wants to drink piss water.” He wasn’t sure whether his hand was trembling from earlier or if it was from touching you. The fluttering in his stomach betrayed the ache in his chest as you gave him a more convincing smile. 
The kettle shook in your hand as you held it over the cup. This was a dream, right? Some terrible nightmare that you’d wake up from any second now. They’d walk through the door, broad smiles painting their faces like always. You’d all joke and laugh as you’d fail to make Levi give anything more than a shy smirk. You’d be together. 
Levi crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, “Think you have enough water there?” The chuckle that tumbled from his lips as he watched you jump like a scared cat quickly died out when the steaming hot water hit your hand. He rushed to your side, guiding you to the sink as you hissed a string of swears in pain, cupping your hand gently, holding it beneath the stream of water. 
“I thought you were showering,” you tried to make conversation, the few seconds of silence feeling suffocating. You glanced at Levi from the corner of your eye. He had lost the cape and harness but was still in his uniform. You ran your free hand through his dry hair as you desperately searched for his usual comforting, soapy lilac and powdery iris smell you’ve found yourself constantly longing for. 
“I, um, well, I didn’t,” Levi trailed off, feeling the tips of his ears grow uncomfortably warm. 
“Wow, Levi didn’t bathe,” you teased as you ignored the pain in your hand the best you could. “Kinda gross.”
Levi looked up at you with his lips parted as if he were going to say something before closing it again. But, instead, his eyes quickly fell back to your hand. I don’t think I can be alone right now, but being with you feels just as difficult. 
You chewed the inside of your cheek, your mind racing uncontrollably without noise to stop it. You watched Levi wrap your hand with a clean towel, eyes focused on his long, slender fingers at work as you concentrated on everything and nothing. 
“You know, um, you don’t have to hold it together for my sake,” Levi spoke up as he tied the cloth into a knot. “They were your friends too. Maybe even more yours than mine.” 
You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him it wasn’t for his sake. Scouts died every day, and all you could do to honor them was continue to dedicate your heart to the cause. But, unfortunately, that’s just how life went. There were no times for pity parties when you had the fate of humanity resting on your shoulders. But all those thoughts came to a screeching halt underneath his heartbroken and guilt-ridden gaze. 
And just like that, you could feel your walls tumbling like houses beneath the titans’ feet. The dull aching in your chest that you kept at bay until now was practically suffocating. They’re not coming back. All three of them went out, and there was nothing you could do to help them. The ache in your chest was unbearable, spreading like venom in your veins until even your throat felt like it’d collapse. The world around you looked twisted and grew bleary. You shook your head in denial as you crumbled to the ground, the first warm streams of tears trickling down your chin uncontrollably. 
Levi sat down beside you and hesitantly took your hand in his. Even your hands were trembling from how hard your sobs shook you. It all felt so familiar as he watched you curl in on yourself, possibly trying to make yourself as small as you felt. He wanted to apologize and tell you that he should’ve done more. He hated watching you like this; hated knowing he had a part in it- even if death in this world was a sad inevitability. Watching you made breathing hard as if someone had knocked all the air out of his lungs. The harder he tried to breathe calmly, the more he couldn’t. 
Levi steeled himself the best he could before gently pulling you into his arms. He wanted to be strong for you, figured it was the least he could do. So Levi would ignore the piercing in his, his struggling lungs, how his stomach knotted, and the uncontrollable shaking. Instead, he’d promise to himself to just be there for you. Yet, his hammering heart– as misplaced as it felt with your body shaking in his arms– seemed to be the one thing he couldn’t entirely ignore. 
How many times did Furlan get to relish in this warmth? And how the hell did he manage to stay so calm? 
Levi pushed aside those thoughts as he cradled your head close to his chest until your shaking subsided. His subconscious humming of a melody he hadn’t heard since his childhood quietly filled the room until your breathing became even once more. 
“Levi,” your voice failed you, his name falling from your lips in a hoarse, broken whisper. “C-can you stay in my room tonight? That, um, that sounds weird. It’s just I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 
“Me either,” Levi mumbled as he leaned his cheek against your head. “And we can forget about the tea. I don’t need you burning yourself again.”
You let out a weak chuckle as you rose to your feet with Levi’s help, “s’probably for the best.” You hugged yourself and watched as he cleaned the mess up for you. “And you should, er, we should shower before we get some sleep.” The statement sounded more like a hesitant question through your still wavering voice, but Levi nodded in agreement before taking your hand in his.
The halls were quiet as you and Levi walked through them hand in hand, everyone either sleeping or doing their own forms of mourning. Even with him by your side, the walk felt lonely, the halls full of empty presences, full of faces that would turn into just a memory. Levi tightened his grip on your hand as you stepped through the door to the bathroom, reminding you that despite all those feelings, you weren’t alone. 
“So, how do you wanna do this?” you sheepishly asked as you glanced down at your fingers laced with his. 
Levi's eyes widened for a second as if he had just realized he was still holding your hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he dropped your hand like it was scalding to the touch, his eyes averting to the cobblestone floor. “It feels inappropriate to ask, but can we shower together?” 
I want to know I can at least protect you, but right now, it feels more like you’re the one protecting me. 
“I-it’s comforting being around you,” his thoughts spilled out in a panic as you walked away from him. “Don’t-” he squeezed his eyes shut, only to be greeted by faces he’d rather forget right now. 
In a panic, he opened his eyes again, desperately looking for you for comfort,  “please don’t let me be alone right now.”
You rushed to Levi with two towels tucked under your arm and his soap in hand. “Hey, hey, hey,” you cooed as you set the things down. “Lee,” you continued, cupping his cheek in your hand, “I wasn’t going to leave.” You chewed your lip as you pushed a few loose strands out of his face, waiting for his ragged breathing to calm down. “I’m here. I promise I’m not leaving you. I was just getting towels.”
Levi searched your eyes for a long moment before he could finally find himself beginning to relax. “Sorry,” he embarrassedly mumbled, feeling a lump well up in his throat.
“It’s okay, really,” you reassured him before you began to undress, taking off everything except your bra and panties with Levi following suit. “You don’t have to be sorry for not wanting to be alone.” You nudged his shoulder playfully as you reached behind him to turn on the shower, “besides, I already told you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”
Levi nodded as he reached behind you for the soap, his chest pressing against yours momentarily, making heat rush to the tips of his ears. 
When he stood up straight again, you both couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down each other’s bodies. As his eyes roamed across every dip and curve of your body, you took time to appreciate the toned, muscular frame his clothes hid so well. Had the circumstances been any different, maybe you would’ve complimented him on it. Or perhaps he would’ve mustered the courage to tell you how beautiful he thought you were. But instead, you both came to silent realizations as your gazes met under the water. A deep longing now accompanied the heartbreak and bits of guilt in your eyes. Something that had probably been buried far longer than either of you realized and decided to show itself at the worst possible time.
“You look-.” You smiled sadly, cupping his cheek with your wet hand as you went to work, rubbing away the dust and speckles of blood that clung to his face. “You look tired, lee. When’s the last time you slept?” 
Any words Levi had were stuck in his chest, blockaded by the unbearable ache that almost seemed to make time cease to exist. Even your words were drowned out, muddled until all he could hear was the faint sound of your voice. He felt as if he were underground again. As if all he could do was beg to be a part of the light. Why did I trust them? 
“Lee,” you hummed as you washed his hair, pushing the raven locks away from his face. “Levi. Hey, you listening? It wasn’t your fault.” 
With a slight cough, you pushed through your wavering. “They didn’t deserve it- no one does. But you didn’t-.”
“I did.” Levi’s brows furrowed together as he gritted his teeth. Why are you being so nice? I don’t deserve it. “I dragged them along. I left them to go-.” He stopped himself before the secret the trio fought to keep slipped from his lips. “I wasn’t there for them like I should’ve been.” His trembling hands ghosted over your waist, desperately searching for a way to ground himself. “I failed them. I failed you.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, hands falling slack in his soapy hair. “You can’t-.” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from finishing your thought. He did believe that with his entire being. Instead of grieving, he was convinced he’d done something wrong and failed. With a heavy sigh, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder, your fingertips ghosting over the hair at his nape. “You didn’t fail anyone.” You could feel the erratic beating of his heart practically pounding out of his chest and his breath growing labored. “Not Furlan. Not Isabel. And definitely not me.” 
Levi’s hands tightened around your waist as breathing became an almost impossible task. His chest rapidly rose and fell, air escaping his lungs as if he were drowning in a panic. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better.” He nuzzled his face into your hair as the first tears rolled down his cheek. “You’re a shit liar anyways,” he joked, trying to hide his sniffling. 
“M’not!” You gently push Levi away in frustration, giving you just enough room to look at him in his tear-filled eyes. “You ass, you could never fail me. Yeah, I miss them. And it’s gonna hurt like hell every day that I don’t see them.” Your eyes fell to his collarbone as you felt your eyes begin to fill with tears again. “Sure, dinners will suck a little more now and be a little quieter.” 
You tensed your jaw and forced yourself to look him in the eyes again. “But you came back. You’re here with me.” You shook your head with a sniffle, “I can’t imagine my life without all of you. Especially without you. I mean, who else would tell me when my tea tastes like piss?” You wiped your eyes despite the tears showing no sign of stopping or slowing. “Or show me how to not use my gears like a drunk baby? Who would liven up this dull place by picking fights with our shithead captains?” 
Levi chuckled dryly and pushed your hand aside, his tears calming enough so he could get a better look at you. “Or tell you when you talk too much?” He clumsily wiped your eyes with the palms of his hand, “Thanks, though.” 
He didn’t believe that he wasn’t a failure, even as you looked up at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. And maybe he wouldn’t believe it for a while. But it was reassuring to know at least someone thought that. It was nice knowing not everything was lost. 
His hands fell to your cheeks, holding them as if you were made of glass. “Thanks for reminding me that I at least I still have one annoying shit around.” 
You rolled your eyes as you cupped his hands. “You ass.” His touch was a welcoming warmth compared to the cooling water. “You’re stuck with me now,” you teased, shooting him a hopeful smile. Levi’s puffy eyes softened as you reached out and began to gently scratch his scalp, massaging the soap into his hair. “I’ve got no choice but to save the other scouts the trouble and deal with ya.” 
A solemn yet comfortable air accompanied the rest of the time spent in the shower. Despite every wave of despair that came crashing down, reminding you both of the new reality, everything felt like it would be okay. Every time you helped each other wash away a sliver of grief, an unspoken promise was made: you only had each other now, and you’d do whatever it took to keep each other safe. Friends and comrades could come and go, but as long as you had each other, fresh air, and the sun to greet you every day, everything would somehow be okay. You’d help each other get through this and whatever else this shithole of a world threw at you. You’d follow each other to the end of the world if it came with the promise of never being alone again. 
The halls were as quiet as before as you and Levi padded through them with nothing but your towels. And yet, they didn’t feel as lonely. Levi’s tight grip on your hand and how his shoulder brushed against yours as he shielded you from unwanted eyes brought you comfort. 
“Um, your clothes are on the nightstand,” you gestured across the small room. You rounded on your heels, eager to replace your towel with more comfortable clothes. Instead, Levi quickly pulled you back to him, huffing as he helped you regain your balance.
“Are you going to be okay?” With a ghosting touch on your fingers, Levi raised your injured hand to inspect the clearly irritated skin. His brows furrowed together as worry etched itself across his features. Even if you continued to deny that he failed today, you couldn’t deny he caused your injury. And while caring for it wouldn’t solve much, it’d at least help remind him he can help those he cares for. 
“Where was this concern when I was washing your hair?” you teased as you glanced at your hand for the first time since Levi wrapped it. Levi’s frown deepened despite the blush painting his ears, making you roll your eyes. “I’m sure I’ll be fine putting on clothes, Levi. And if it makes you feel better, you can help me wrap it again after, okay?” You squeezed his hand reassuringly before he finally let you go. 
“After I clean it, you shit,” Levi grumbled as he turned around and crossed the room.
“It’s technically already been cleaned, you ass.”
His clothes were neatly folded on your nightstand as if that were their natural place. As if it were just any other day. Maybe the fluttering in his heart would be better placed if that were the case. But it wasn’t, and perhaps it never will be.
 With a heavy sigh, Levi lifted his underwear and pajama pants, rubbing the soft fabric between his fingers for a moment before pulling them on. A light blue vest on your nightstand caught his eye as he slipped his shirt over his head. It was folded neatly; the creases rubbed out of it. It didn’t take long to realize who’s vest it was. Nor did it take long for Levi to admit that the vest looked more natural here than his clothes had– at least that’s what he told himself.
How many times had he been here? Had you two showered together, too? How many times have you two kissed here? Levi could feel his cheeks heat up despite his blood going cold at the thought. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. Maybe they really were more than friends who kissed.
“You can have that if you want,” you spoke up once you noticed what held Levi’s attention. “It was just part of our routine, y’know? Kinda our way of encouraging the other to come back- it’s silly.” 
“Did he ever stay over?” The words came out before he could stop himself or even think of why he cared to ask. “You two seemed close.”
“Walls, no!” You walked over to your nightstand, joining Levi’s side. “We’d talk until we got tired, but he never stayed over. I don’t even know if the thought occurred to either of us.” You trailed off, getting lost in the memories, a slight pang in your heart.
The flush on Levi’s cheeks was undeniable as he thought about what you said. You had kissed Furlan countless times, yet here he was, being invited to spend the night with you. But then again, you both had just lost friends. So maybe you really were only asking in search of comfort.
“You should get some sleep.” 
“You’re not sleeping?” You glanced over curiously at him before it hit you. The fear peeking out from beneath his lackluster eyes told you what his mouth wouldn’t. 
He could still see them whenever he closed his eyes for too long. Their faces or whatever was left were still freshly ingrained in his mind. And the only comfort that sleep could bring were dreams of them alive, which would only be crushed under the weight of reality when morning came. The cycle would continue no matter what may be said to help cope with the loss. Their faces and memories would reappear everywhere until one day seeing and remembering didn’t bring a crippling sense of dread and heartache. 
It didn’t matter what fears you faced earlier while you two showered; sleep brought a new wave of fear, guilt, and sorrow. Going to sleep meant welcoming a new day without Isabel or Furlan.
You bit your lip and nodded. “Then neither am I.” You hesitantly took his hand in yours and urged him toward the bed. “You’ll help wrap my hand again, and we’ll both just stay up all night talking.”
Levi sat at the foot of your bed with pink cheeks and an unamused expression, “that’s a stupid idea.” 
You climbed into bed and raised an eyebrow at him. “What else would we do, stare at each other?” Or kiss- no, this wasn’t the time to have those thoughts. You held out your hand and clean bandages to him as you waited for his response. 
“Or sleep.” Levi focused his eyes on your hand, balancing being gentle and keeping the wrap taut enough to secure it through the night. You had grieved and showered together, even changed in the same room. So why was now so awkward? His eyes flicked up to your lips, the slight pout as you zoned out, making it nearly impossible to look anywhere but. 
What had Furlan said to get you to kiss him? 
“Nope. If you’re not gonna sleep, neither will I.” I’m not leaving you alone. Even if you act fine now, I can’t forget earlier. I won’t forget earlier. 
“And if I didn’t eat? Or told you my plan to kill Erwin?”
“I’d try my best to force you to, even if it meant holding your nose.” You tucked your knees beneath yourself and lowered your voice to a whisper. “And I’d tell you to let me butter him up first for you.” 
Levi looked at you in astonishment, unsure whether you were serious or just teasing him. “Go to sleep,” he grumbled when he couldn’t tell. 
You took his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Not until you at least lay down. Please, Levi.” You chewed your lip as you reached out and cupped his cheek with your bandaged hand. “You need rest.” Your thumb ghosted over the dark circles beneath his eyes, “but if you’re not gonna get some rest, can you just lay with me?” 
Levi pressed his cheek further into your palm for a long moment before nodding, making you let go of a tense breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He fought off a smirk as you eagerly guided him further onto your bed and buried yourself under the covers. Levi followed your lead and climbed beneath the blankets, laying far enough away that a pillow could fit between you. His eyes nervously flitted down from your face to his fingers intertwined with yours. 
Without hesitation, you moved your head back until it was on the edge of the pillow, “there’s enough room for both of us if you wanna.”  To your surprise, he almost immediately took you up on your offer like a timid child. “Good night Levi.” 
“Night.” 
“Oh, and Levi,” you waited for his hum before you continued. “It’s comforting being around you too. I like being around you. And I meant everything I said earlier.”
Levi didn’t remember falling asleep or what dreams he had- honestly there might’ve been none. And while he felt bad that two of his closest friends weren’t in his thoughts as he slept, he couldn’t deny that sleeping next to you brought him a level of comfort he hadn’t felt since his childhood. 
Even the days after, as he woke up in cold sweats or with tears streaming down his face, you were there, giving him any piece of peace you could. When you’d find yourself going to sleep with tear-streaked cheeks or waking up with puffy eyes, he was there with a melody and a cup of tea to comfort you. You began to seek each other out, taking turns climbing out of bed in the late night and early morning hours to find the other. And each time you woke up, you seemed to be closer. Limbs entangle—your head on his chest, or Levi’s favorite, nose to nose.
You had become practically attached at the hips. You encouraged each other to push harder during the day and provided much-needed comfort to the other at night. Every moment for the next few months was spent together until you felt as if it were only you and Levi in the world. You both made true to your silent promises made that bittersweet night.
Levi would come to learn the way you’d grow a little quieter despite your wider smile whenever you’d think of Furlan or Isabel. He’d ‘accidentally’ leave his soap out for you when he noticed you breathe a little deeper with him around. 
You managed to see his bashful smirk more and enjoy a quiet tune he’d subconsciously hum as he held you to his chest. You’d come to find an almost surefire way to get him to go to sleep whenever you scratched his scalp or back. And no matter how soundly he’d be sleeping, you’d learn he never really stays asleep. He’d try to hide his twitching or pray his whimpers wouldn’t wake you, but they always did. And you always let him snuggle closer to you until you drifted back to sleep. 
“Y/n,” Levi whispered, hoping you were still sleeping. His heartbeat was deafening in his ears as he waited for a response or for your breathing to change. When a few moments passed without either happening, he ghosted his thumb over your bottom lip and mumbled, “I really want to kiss you.”
You leaned forward, ignoring the burning in your cheeks as you brushed your nose against his. “You’re welcome to.” 
Levi’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyebrows knitted together. “H-how long have you been up?”
You shrugged with your eyes still closed, “not long, I think. I dunno; I was trying to let your little snores help me fall asleep again.” You rubbed your eyes as you opened them. “But I guess it’s another sleepless night for ya,” you teased with a worried smile.
“It’s hard sleeping next to you.” 
“I’ve never heard any complaints before,” you teased. “But I can leave if you want.” 
“Fucking pain, you’re worse than the one shit that refuses to come out,” Levi grumbled. “Just see if I let you go anywhere, mon coeur.” 
Neither of you remembered when Levi’s nickname for you changed from ‘shit’ to ‘mon coeur.’ It just happened one day, as if the phrase slipped from his lips. And the more he’d see you light up at the name despite not knowing its meaning, the more he’d become determined to use it. 
“Wow, so he’s even scarier when he has a crush, huh? Who woulda thought.” 
“I don’t have- I’m not- damn it. Just go to sleep before I knock you out, I like you better quiet.” 
You jutted your bottom lip into an exaggerated pout, “can’t sleep without a goodnight kiss. I mean, you’re the one who gave me the idea.” 
“But,” Levi dragged his gaze up from your lip disappointedly. “What was going on with you and Furlan?” 
Even now, your heart squeezed at the mention of his name. “You didn’t know? We were secretly married the whole time, and I have three of his kids living in my room.” The deadpanned expression on Levi’s face made it hard not to chuckle to yourself. “I’ve told you already. We were only friends, okay?” 
“Who kissed.”
“Because he was one of the only people I thought would be okay with the idea. You’re always acting like Mr. gumps, so I thought you’d be against it.” It didn’t go unnoticed how Levi’s eyes widened for a moment at your confession. “But fine,” you caught his chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Maybe I should’ve asked you so that you could’ve given me the same look you’re giving me now.” 
Levi rolled his eyes with a deep sigh, “titans are easier to deal with than you.” 
“Pretty sure I kiss better, though.” 
“Wouldn’t know; I’ve never had any.” Levi had never been more thankful that the moon provided the only light in his room as the heat rose to his cheeks. 
You ignored the fluttering in your stomach, suddenly eager to be closer to Levi. You couldn’t help but think of your first kiss, and all the thoughts once held concerning it. What if he was saving his kiss for someone special? “I can, well-,” you licked your lips nervously, “ I can change that.” 
“Almost like that’s why I brought it up.” 
You rolled your eyes with a soft giggle, hooking your leg over his hips. “Smart ass.” Levi encouraged you with a hand on the small of your back despite his trembling hand, pulling you flush against him. You leaned forward, guiding him toward you by his chin. 
Levi crashed his lips against yours impatiently, his hand on your back balling into a fist as he tried to pull you impossibly closer. The kiss was clumsy and full of hunger. Yet, what Levi lacked in experience, he made up for in his eagerness. His lips moved against yours like a starved man determined to enjoy everything you offered to him. It was nothing like your kisses with Furlan, and part of you couldn’t help but think that was his goal. 
“You’re a better kisser,” you uttered before going in for another kiss. 
Levi eagerly chased your lips, “and you’re a shit liar… but maybe one day.”
“Guess we’ll have to put you through training-.”
“Please go to sleep.” Levi cupped his hand over your lips with a sheepish expression, “That’s enough for tonight.” He awkwardly shifted his hips away from yours as his hand slid up between your shoulder blades. Between the butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the sudden unfamiliar tightening of his pants, he was sure his body would give out on him at any second now. It was like an uncomfortable, overwhelming sickness that made him feel uneasy and strangely at peace. “You need your rest.” 
“Right, I need rest,” you hummed unconvinced. Before giving Levi one last peck, you pried his hand away with surprising ease. “Night, Levi.” Sensing his sudden reservedness, you moved to take your leg off his hip only to be stopped by his hand hooking under your knee. A comfortable silence settled over the both of you as you basked in each other’s soothing warmth.  You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp every time your fingers met his roots. “Also, uh, well- this isn’t like a, y’know.” You shrugged as you embarrassedly avoided meeting his gaze. “I don’t want it to be just a friend thing.”
Levi let out a heavy sigh as he pulled you closer by your leg, keeping just enough space between you to keep the increasing tightness in his pants a secret. “Sleep already.” He let the quiet settle over the both of you once more like a blanket as he rubbed circles into your thigh with his thumb. Your soft, restful snores echoed through the room after a few minutes. Levi leaned forward with a small smile, resting the curve of his nose against your forehead. “I’m glad you feel the same, though, mon coeur,” he thought aloud. 
I know I don’t deserve this chance to be with her. You’d be better for her. But I can’t stop my heart from racing or the smiles that fight so hard to make their way onto my lips when I’m around her. So I’ll take care of her for you from now on, Furlan, I give my word. I’ll be by her side protecting and supporting her until my last breath. “You make me feel so special, and I know I don’t deserve it. But I want to make you feel the same. I’m yours until the end of time and probably long after that.”
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kamino-blues · 3 years
Note
can i request gregor flirting relentlessly w reader who doesnt quite know how to respond?? bc they think this is just the way he acts? so he literally has to be straightforward and vulnerable w them to convince them that he likes them 🥺🥺🥺 LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH !!!!
Rating: Pg & Sfw
Warnings: Some really cheesy flirting, reader mentally complaining at the beginning about said flirting, a tiny bit of jealousy from the reader (For a few paragraphs, just used to move the plot forward!), Pre-relationship, living together, Bartender!Reader, confessions
Word Count: 2k
Note: Hi this ask is absolutely adorable, I had so much fun writing this!! I went on a chaotic quest of looking up cheesy pick up lines I'm ngl 🤣I really hope you enjoy, thank you so much for the ask!!! 💕
Working at Cid’s bar has been an experience, to say the least. You have met a variety of patrons, from tough bounty hunters to those just trying to escape from their usual life. Nothing, and you mean nothing, has prepared you for the chaos that is Gregor.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t worked with clones before, you had interacted multiple times with the Bad Batch. They just didn’t interact the way that Gregor did with you.
When you first met him, he was being helped into the main area of the parlor by Echo. There was a loopy looking smile plastered on his face as he was lightly placed on the floor. Quickly you slid out from behind the bar, looking at the pair in front of you.
“What happened?” You quickly uttered out, getting ready to sprint back to Cid to let her know that there was a mysterious (and handsome) clone sprawled out on the floor in her bar. Echo opened up his mouth to explain what was going on, but the mysterious clone spoke over him.
“People I know call me different names, I don’t care what they use. But with you, I’d prefer if you call me mine~” The clone purred out with a wink, falling into a small fit of giggles. You were utterly speechless, staring at the clone with a blank look on your face. A light blush slowly started to slip onto your cheeks as you realized what he had said to you. You quietly let them know that you were going to grab Cid, practically running away from the pair to the back room.
You heard the clone yell out to ‘Comm him’ as you ran away, and you went to hide in Cid’s office, letting her know what was going on.
After that interaction, you figured that you would only have a few more interactions with him before he would leave. What you didn’t realize was that Gregor was being dropped off by the Bad Batch to stay at the bar.
The biggest surprise to you was that it was decided that he would be staying in your apartment while he recovers. It was an interesting night when you found out, the doorbell ringing as you were getting ready for bed.
Opening the door, you suppressed a groan, seeing the flirtatious clone you saw before standing in front of you.
“Let me make a call real quick, um I don’t think I ever got your real name.” You muttered out as you started dialing Cid’s number into your comm.
“Can I help you?” You spoke, your tone blunter then it would normally be. The mysterious clone rubbed his neck, a little titter falling from his lips.
“Cid sent me over, she said that I could stay with you?” You raised an eyebrow at him, before opening the door to let him in.
“Gregor’s the name sweet-“ You took your focus off of him as Cid picked up the phone, walking out of the room into the kitchen.
After a long talk, it was official. Gregor would be staying with you, and also working with you at the bar. Letting out a sigh, you rested your head in your hands, leaning against the kitchen counter.
You heard footsteps, stopping a few feet away from you. Moving your hands from your eyes, you saw Gregor looking at you curiously. You gave him a small smile, accepting your fate as you pushed yourself up to sit on the counter.
“So you are living here now,” You stated, not moving your eyes from him. Gregor nodded, giving you a small wink.
“I guess I am,” You saw him glance at your comm, and you could almost see the lightbulb go off in his head, especially with the way he started to smirk.
“You know, I think there’s something wrong with my comm. Your number’s not in it.” You stared at him for a few moments before rolling your eyes, taking your comm off to throw it at him. He fumbled with it, before successfully capturing it in his hands.
“Put your number in there than wonder boy.” You muttered out, turning away from him to cover the blush that was starting to form on your cheeks.
Your movement didn’t stop you from missing the large smile that slipped onto his face when you threw the nickname out. You heard him typing on your comm, you turning back when he exclaimed that he was done.
Gregor held the comm out, your hand brushing lightly against his as you grabbed it. The blush wasn’t leaving your cheeks, especially when you looked down and saw that he put his name in as ‘Wonder Boy 💛'.
You quickly let out that you were going to head in for the night, and practically jogged to your room. But Gregor couldn’t leave without wishing you goodnight in his own way could he?
“Sweet dreams… I hope I’m in them!” You heard him call out, and as soon as you shut your door, you leaned against it, sliding down with your face in your hands.
Your face was completely flushed, not knowing how to handle the constant flirting. It just had to be his personality, surely he was just messing with you. In fact, you were positive that he was just joking around! But why were you so affected by his words?
The next few weeks went by pretty quickly, even though you weren't used to the constant attention Gregor was sending your way.
It almost felt natural, him living with you. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was honestly a sweetheart, and also a big help around your apartment.
You were falling headfirst for him, and there was nothing you could do. So as you were making drinks behind the bar, it was your goal to stay focused on your work instead of him.
However, it was almost as if he heard your thoughts, him sliding over so he could ‘clean the bar’.
“Any chance you have an extra heart? Mine’s been stolen!” You rolled your eyes, and he held his chest in dramatics. “I’m serious! You don’t want me to die do you?”
“I mean-“ You stifled the laughter that threatened to fall from your lips. The look on his face was priceless, and you couldn’t stop the giggle that slipped from your lips. You saw Gregor trying to conceal his own smile.
“You wound me!” You couldn’t hold back your laugh, and the both of you fell into a fit of giggles. You heard Cid yelling at the two of you to get back to work, and you both fought off your giggles as you went back to what you were previously doing.
The rest of the night went by pretty smoothly, until right before closing. You were almost done with cleaning up until you saw Gregor laughing with a cute girl.
Your eyes widened, before your face flushed in embarrassment. Why were you falling for him? It was clear that he was like this with everyone. You finished up, before walking out of the bar, leaving without waiting for Gregor.
After a little while of wandering around, you stopped at the local park, sitting on one of the benches. You brought your knees to your chest, tears in the corner of your eyes as you looked around.
You felt your wrist buzz, and you knew who it was right away. You paused, not wanting to pick up. Though you knew better, he would probably scour the whole city to make sure you were ok. Tapping the answer button, you took a deep breath.
“Hello?” Your voice cracked, which caused you to flinch.
“Hey, where are you? You were here one second and then gone the next,” you heard him let out a nervous giggle, before a sigh fell over his lips. “Are you safe?”
You nodded, before you realized he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, yeah I’m all good. Don’t worry about me, ok?” You heard him take another breath, him seemingly debating on what to say.
“You may be out of sight right now, but you’re never out of my mind.” Gregor settled with, and you groaned. He let out a small laugh, before his tone turned serious. “Really though, where are you?”
“The park, the one a few blocks away from the parlor,” You told him. As much as you didn't want to see him face to face, the tone he had was the most serious you had ever heard so you complied.
“I’ll be there in a few, stay where you are ok?” You heard him shuffling, and it almost sounded as though he was running.
“Ok wonder boy, I’ll see you soon,” You heard him click off the comm, and you rested your head on your knees, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you weren’t ready to have.
Gregor was true to his words, he was there in a few minutes. He slipped onto the bench next to you, taking in your form. Spotting the tears, a frown slipped onto his face.
“You don’t have to answer this, what’s wrong cyare?” You tilted your head at the nickname, before looking away from Gregor. You had so much you wanted to say, but at the same time you weren’t ready for the embarrassment.
“I.. When you talk with me, you’re joking around right?” Your face was bright red in embarrassment, not wanting to come out and ask him if he meant the flirting. Gregor stared at you, it slowly clicking in his head what you meant.
“Do you.. want me to be joking?” You squeezed your eyes shut at his response, not knowing how to respond. You shook your head, and you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders. You leaned your head on his shoulder, thinking of what to say.
“When I saw you with that girl in the bar, it clicked with me that you probably flirt with everyone, that it isn’t just me. I mean, you’ve been like this since minute one-“ you felt his grip tighten on your shoulder, a sigh falling from his lips.
“I wasn’t flirting with her cyare,” He let out another nervous giggle, “Ever since the last incident I had with my old line of work.. Before the gunshot I mean,, I’ve had a hard time filtering some of my thoughts and emotions. Flirting with you was the only way I could handle my crush on you. I.. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You were sure he felt you tense in his arms. Gregor started to move away, but you lifted your head, moving to grab his hands in yours.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable Gregor, not at all… I just misinterpreted…” You trailed off, looking up at Gregor. He had a small smile, eyes light as he looked at you.
“Can I borrow a kiss? I promise to give it back,” You let out a small giggle, him joining you until you responded.
“Of course you can,” Gregors face had a wide smile on it, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving him a peck on his lips. You moved to pull away, but he moved his hands onto your mid back, pulling you towards him.
Your lips collided once again, lasting for a lot longer than the last kiss. Your eyes slipped close, savoring the soft kiss that you never thought that you would have. As you both slowly pulled away, you leaned forward, resting your forehead on his.
As you basked in each other's presence in the cool evening air, it truly felt like the start of something new.
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biisexualemma · 3 years
Text
kick ass. kol mikaelson
word count: 1.8k
warnings: mentions of blood and some violence
requested: n/a
plot: you get hurt and deal with the repercussions
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"i'm fully capable of kicking your ass," you spat. you were having none of it. you'd been threatened plenty of times in your lifetime, you were equipped to handle this kind of situation. ever since you started dating an original vampire, he had you taking every precaution. you always had vervain in your system. you took self defence classes. you always carried a small stake in your purse, just for times like this. "and if i'm not, my boyfriend certainly won't hesitate to."
"i don't see your boyfriend anywhere?"
"do you know who my boyfriend is?"
"should i?" he took a few steps towards you, but you mimicked and took a few steps back. you weren't far from the compound, so there was no doubt in your mind that if you screamed loud enough, kol could hear you.
you wore a sly smile. "you probably should."
you clutched the stake in your hand, holding it behind your back, ready to move on him if he tried anything. "too bad—" you saw it coming before he did, and quickly sliced his hand open with the tip of stake before he could touch you. while he was caught off guard you nailed him right in the crotch with a powerful kick.
he stumbled backwards, and before he could recover you ran as quickly as you could in the direction of the compound. you weren't stupid. you could only defend yourself so much against a vampire, no matter how young they were. you were sure he could kill you with no trouble at all, you just couldn't give him the chance.
you didn't have a second to pull out your phone to warn anyone of your situation, so you continued to run until you felt a hand clamp around your ankle and yank you to the ground. your face slammed into the pavement, your nose dripping now with blood. you leak out a shriek at the impact, and you quickly noticed the stake in your hand had jammed into you leg as you fell. you pushed aside the pain and scrambled away from the vamp hunting you.
if you died, kol would never let you hear the end of it. he was always having a go at you for being reckless with you life. but in his eyes, being reckless with your life, included simple things like walking home alone, or closing up the bar you worked by yourself, or even leaving the compound without telling him your whereabouts. these were all simple things, things you couldn't avoid. he didn't get it though. so you just didn't tell him. you'd lie and say your walked home with a friend. or lie and say your manager was locking up with you that night. what he didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.
you only wished now, in this moment, that you had listened to him.
you were steps away from the compound, clawing your way to the gates, your right leg struggling from where the stake had penetrated your thigh. you could feel the vampire looming over you. you flipped over, trying to push yourself up with your arms but your legs were weak.
you wore a tired, wicked smile on your face. blood was oozing from your nose, dripping onto your lips. the vamp couldn't understand your reaction, when he was about to suck the life out of you.
"you really don't wanna do this— you're kinda already dead for this," you motioned to your bloodied face. the vampire shook his head, wearing a smirk that you were sure would be wiped off his face any moment now.
"you're pretty cocky for someone that's about to die," he quipped.
"if anyone's about to die— i can promise that it's going to be you," you let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard klaus' voice from behind you. "you not only interrupted my reading but you've also only gone and bashed up the face of my brother's girl."
you saw the young vampires face turn pale. he knew who he was dealing with. everyone knew klaus, everyone knew the mikaelsons. he suddenly looked very regretful.
"you're— you're boyfriend is—"
"kol mikaelson," he appeared from behind klaus, elijah and freya following behind him. klaus grabbed the young vamp before he got any ideas about running away. you knew they were going to really make him pay for this. you'd feel sorry for him if he hadn't just tried to kill you, twice.
kol crouched beside you, his eyebrows knitted tightly together as he gently touched your face. you winced, pulling away from him. his jaw clenched. his eyes remained on you, as he spoke to his siblings. "freya, take y/n inside and clean her up," kol helped you onto your feet, handing you over to freya with great care as you limped on inside.
you were sure that vampire never lived to see another day. you were sure when he was left alone with klaus, kol and elijah that he was made to suffer deeply. you tried not to think about it. you should be used to the blood and gore by now, but nothing ever prepared you for it. you put it out of your mind, hissing when freya touched your nose cautiously. you frowned, leaning away from her touch.
"ow," you mumbled quietly. freya muttered a quiet sorry in return, but continued to wipe away the blood that had poured all over the rest of your face.
"i don't think it's broken," she wore a sympathetic smile, you were sure she was trying not to think about what her brothers were doing too. "but it's bruised pretty bad."
you nodded, letting her touch your chin and tilt your head backwards. "shove these up there and it should stop the bleeding," you did as she said and put the cotton wool up your nostrils, and sure enough the bleeding stopped. "what happened to your leg?"
you scoffed out a laugh, your head still tilted back as you held the cotton up your nose. you couldn't really see freya from this angle at all. "uh— that was my fault actually— never run with scissors— or stakes in this instance."
freya cracked a small smile of amusement. you were the clumsiest person she'd met, only you would bring a stake to defend yourself and end up hurting yourself with it. "you're so stupid," she muttered half-jokingly. you could tell she was waiting for the moment her brothers would come back and start some kind of argument over this. she always tried to keep the peace, which is why she wasn't grilling you about walking home alone. and although you knew kol was worried about you, you were also prepared to get an earful from him about being more careful. so right now, you were thankful to be in freya's company over any other mikaelson.
"uh huh," you nodded. it was true, you did often get yourself into these stupid situations. it wasn't your fault, you were like a beacon for bad situations. you titled your head back to its normal level, catching freya's stare. "do you think he'll be mad?"
she gave you a soft stare before refocusing on your leg, cleaning out the wound. "don't worry about it," she shook her head. "you know he's really only angry with himself. he just needs to get it all out."
you nodded, your eyes moving to the door frame where kol was standing silently watching his sister tend to your wound. he didn't look angry, you thought. "i can take over, sister," he spoke up, catching freya's attention. she nodded, putting down her supplies and walking to kol.
"don't be mean to her," she threatened quietly, so only he could hear. kol clenched his jaw as his sister left and you sat watching him standing far away from you.
"hey," you mumbled. he moved so he was sitting where freya sat before in front of you. he didn't look at you, he just picked up the supplies freya had been using to clean out your wound, and begun inspecting your leg. "are you mad at me?"
he shook his head.
you noticed a bit of blood on his neck that he must've missed upon cleaning himself up. he would never let you see him like that. he always cleaned himself up before he came to you. he knew how much you hated blood. you accepted his lifestyle. you just didn't need to see it, he knew that.
"i should've called," you let out a soft sigh. you felt bad for lying now. lying to him didn't benefit anyone. you knew he was protective, but you also knew it was for good reason. for this exact reason. you felt guilty.
"yeah," he mumbled. you winced as he pulled a splinter out of your wound, you hand instinctively went to his shoulder and squeezed tight. he stopped, glancing up at you where he finally saw the bruising surrounding your nose. he threw down the supplies in his hands and let out a deep sigh.
"i'm sorry," you frowned, you moved your hand from his shoulder to the side of his face. "i'll be more careful next time."
"no next time," he shook his head. he placed his hand over yours and moved it from his face so he could hold your hand. "sweetheart, i just want you to be safe."
you nodded. "i know," you loved kol, so much it hurt sometimes. and it pained you to see him looking so upset, so unlike himself. "if it makes you feel any better, i got a good kick in to his balls before all this happened."
kol cracked a small smile, ducking his head. "that does make me feel a bit better, actually."
you looked at him sympathetically. you wanted to ease his worry but there wasn't much you could do. he would always be worried and protective no matter how careful you were.
"d'you still love me even though i'm a bad girlfriend, who gets herself into bad situations more often than you'd care for me to?"
"'course i still love you, darling," he squeezed your hand he was holding and lifted it to press a kiss to the back of your hand. "just call me next time you need a ride home."
you nodded, still wearing a gentle smile. you were glad he wasn't angry, you didn't have the energy to hash this out with him. he knew you understood why he is the way he is.
"i love you," you squeezed his hand in return. "thanks for protecting me."
"anytime," he wore a lopsided smile now. he leaned closer a pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.
"still think i'm pretty with this honker?" you teased, trying to make light of the situation now that everything had been resolved. kol snorted, pulling away from your lips.
"i do," you wore a wide smile. he moved both his hands to either side of your face and held you still, looking over you. "you're beautiful."
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captain039 · 3 years
Text
PART 6 Secrets of mutation
Logan(wolverine) x reader
Warnings: Age gap, student/teacher, AOB, trauma, swearing, sexual, intimate, a little forceful, heats, smut, unprotected sex, lil kinky, angst, jealousy
Xmen X new mutants
Previous chapter <-
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When you awoke for the second time that day, you groaned and shuffled stomach demanding more food. You reached around and felt no Logan by you making you sigh. You sat up slowly, stretched and went to the bathroom.
You went to the toilet before going to the kitchen again, you rummaged through the cupboards and fridge before huffing, you wanted a big dinner meal. You sat by the table and leant against it sighing when you heard footsteps. You hoped they passed but you saw Jean stop in the entrance way. You tensed avoiding eye contact as she sat across from you.
“How are you feeling?” She asked.
“I’m ok?” You shrugged. Aching still and overly warm, what else did she expect?
“Good, after your heat is over we can five you some medicine if you wish” she said and you nodded.
“Are you mad at me?” You asked like a little kid.
“No, I’m not mad at you” she chuckled softly.
“I know Logan is, overly nice to you, I’m not um- I’m sure he’ll just go back to normal after everything is done” you nodded embarrassed.
“He’s just being… nice?” The hole you were digging got deeper and deeper as you spoke.
“Logan doesn’t do nice, if he’s doing something it’s for reason” you avoided her eyes as she spoke and nodded.
“Right” you mumbled.
“Protective then? This will go away after I’m done with my heat, he’ll call me kid and leave me with my friends” you tried convincing yourself more than her for some reason.
“Pressure maybe?” You questioned.
“I wasn’t pressured to do anything” you jumped at the sound of his voice. You looked to him, raised eyebrow and a white plastic bag in his hand. He sat by you taking out a takeaway meal and sliding it to you. You looked at it confused as he got his own out and handed you a fork also. You thanked him softly and opened the lid and began eating.
“I’ll leave you two to enjoy your meal” Jean said and walked off. Logan huffed beside you and you tensed slightly.
“Thanks for bringing me food” you whispered and he nodded not speaking. Did he hear the whole conversation? It was he just not in a talking mood.
You were getting fidgety under the silence, you had finished your meal and sat up to put it in the bin.
“Im gonna-“ you gestured out the door and nodded as you left quickly.
You rubbed your arms looking to the ground before you ran into someone.
You apologised before seeing the guy from the other day, the one you stabbed, lightly, with your claws.
“Cat girl” he said a grin on his face. You took a step back slightly.
“You’ve got sharp claws I’ll give you that” he was taunting you, stepping forward when you stepped back. You felt your claws come out and kept your hands hidden if he tried anything.
“At least you smell good too” his grin went almost evil and you striked. Something in your mind clicked, you snarled at him his stomach slashed open. You kicked him to the ground before someone grabbed you.
“Easy” you froze at the sound of Logan. Your mind coming back, you frowned seeing the kid on the floor holding his stomach.
“Jesus! You need to lock her! Crazy cat!” The boy yelled as you began to shake.
“What-“ you muttered as Jean and the Professor came.
“I didn’t mean too” you said as others came to help.
You bolted out the back door ignoring calls. You changed into your cat self and ran outside the house borders and into the woodland area.
You ran quickly, jumping over logs and rocks before finding a suitable cave to collapse in. You panted paws aching, muscles spasming as you caught your breath. You don’t know how long you ran, you couldn’t see or hear any form of school from here. You curled up in the corner knowing you’d be warmer with fur. You let your tail rest over your eyes as you tried to cry somehow.
Morning came, sun shining brightly into your eyes, you must’ve changed in the night, shivering and naked in a cold cave.
You sighed sitting up as you rubbed your arms and hugged your knees. You had a layer of cold sweat covering your body, your heat peeking up again. You cursed at the cramps and aches in your body and leant against the cold rock.
The sun had warmed you up eventually, you had sore eyes from crying and sticky face. Sighing you didn’t bother moving, didn’t want to move, you wondered how long it would take for you to die out here.
You frowned though hearing footsteps, you listened in, it was only one person, familiar rhythm and heaviness.
Looking around you saw his figure, should’ve figured he’d follow, but you thought he wouldn’t. As he came closer he spotted you, in the corner of the cave shivering. He came closer, you saw clothes and blankets in his hand. He handed you the clothes without any words and you shuffled awkwardly to put them on. Leaning back against the rock you sighed as he laid a blanket over you and sat by you.
You stared outside, wondering what snapped inside you.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him” you mumbled.
“I know” he sighed running a hand down his face.
“I wasn’t in control” you added.
“I know” he huffed and you frowned.
“What do you mean you know?” You questioned.
“I mean-“ he sighed.
“The Professor said there’s something still inside you and your friends, some sort of injection that controls your mutant side when your emotions are high” you froze at his words and wondered why the Professor never told you this.
“The Professor thought it would go away, seems it didn’t, somewhere they’re finding a way to control your mind and we can’t find out why” you stared at the ground processing his words.
“With your current state and that dick head pushing, they took over from you” you didn’t know what to think, how the hell could they do that?
“Charles thinks it’s another mutant doing it, but we don’t know” you only nodded turning your head away from him as you tried to process it again. Someone was in your head, controlling you? Is that why you lashed out the very first time? Was the overdose so you didn’t know someone was in your head. You shuddered a bit holding the blanket closer.
“Is there like, a cage or something you can put me in?” You mumbled and he raised an eyebrow.
“Why do you need a cage?” He questioned.
“So I don’t lash out again and loose control” you said biting your cheek.
“You don’t need a cage” he sighed.
“Well something then? A secret room? something I can’t get out of” you felt your heart quicken and tried to calm down invade ‘they’ took over.
“You stay with me” he said finally.
“With you? What if I scratch you to shreds?!” You snapped glaring at him.
“You can’t” he scoffed a little smiling.
“It’s not funny Logan, this is serious, there’s someone in my head controlling me!” You looked away and stared at the ground again.
“I wasn’t laughing at the situation” he said firmly.
“Calm down” you frowned looking to him at the change of his voice, an alpha tone. You took deep breaths and looked away again sighing.
“Fuck!” You yelled hands fisted. Logan was giving you a firm look as he pulled you into his lap.
“I said clam down” he whispered and you felt shivers again. You leant against his chest listening to his heartbeat and sighed. Your heat must be ending thankfully, having him hold you was enough to dull the aches. You stayed like that for a while, you tucked under his chin with the blanket around your body, his hand gently rubbing up and down your back.
“Logan” you called softly and he hummed.
“What is this?” His hand stopped at your question and sighed quietly. You sat up, resting against his thighs as you looked to him.
“Everyone I’ve loved ends up hurt or dead” he sighed and you frowned.
“I’m a soldier born and made to kill and protect, not love” he mumbled and you felt your heart break. Your shoulders sagged a little.
“Just protective” you whispered getting off his lap.
“We should go back” you said standing up as you began to walk away.
“Y/n” he sighed following you silently.
Next Chapter ->
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haikyuuishete · 4 years
Text
Heartbroken to moving on|| pt 5
Iwaizumi and Bokuto
Iwaizumi:
He would never know why he had to hurt you like that
To betray you in the worst way, but the temptation was too great
Your older sister came to your room drunk one night, you weren’t at home and things happened between her and him
Since then, they started to text each other and even go out behind your back
“I promise you Iwaizumi, she won’t know a thing” she promised
Behind your back for an year, your sister was having a splendid time with your boyfriend
You watched them grow closer at first you were happy they got along but after a while you started doubting
Their friendship was a different level
One night you told Iwaizumi you would be staying with a friend due to the weather
He told you to be safe and said he loved you
But after a while the rain stopped which made you decide to come back home
You didn’t know if you regretted the decision because once you opened the bedroom door
You found Iwaizumi and your sister sleeping together
You didn’t have the strength to say anything but just to leave and get a hotel near by
You couldn’t confront them because you couldn’t bare to look at their faces
Your phone exploded with calls and texts from them, turning off your phone and going back to sleep
Spending a week at the hotel because you couldn’t bother going back home
You just couldn’t
But you had to, once you walked back into the apartment
Iwaizumi dropped everything he was doing to hug you, which you didn’t return
“I’m tired” you push him away to go to bed
You didn’t bother to explain to him where you were or nothing, you just didn’t want to talk to him
Your sister kept visiting and you told her to leave a bunch of times
To the point you threw the lamp at her telling her to fuck off and die in a ditch
You changed into someone you weren’t
You were gentle and sweet, what happened to you when you were gone
No one knows
slowly you started to give up on hope
Iwaizumi was seeing your sister still but yet came back to attend to you, because he did love you, he really did, knowing what he was doing was wrong.
“Iwaizumi, can you leave and never come back” you push him away from you as he wanted to restore the relationship
“You don’t want to keep her waiting do you” Your eyes darken with disgust and hate
“You are not worth keeping around so might as well leave” you push him out shutting the door
The was the last thing he heard from you and then you were gone. No one knew where you were
He called so many times to the point he went to your college and asked where you were
“She was transferred”
“She left” “I don’t know” your friends didn’t even want to look at him or speak to him brushing him off harshly
Nowhere to be seen or heard, he couldn’t do anything
He had to stop at one point, he couldn’t keep searching for you knowing so well that you don’t want to be searched
Iwaizumi had to let you go in order for him to change and be a better person
He knows well that you would never forgive him, ever in your life
So he will just hold onto your hoody as a memory waiting for your return
But meanwhile just let him cry out his pain
Bokuto:
Your relationship with him seem loveless by many
He was more outgoing and you were more a inside person
He loved showing you affection but you were just stone cold
It’s not like you didn’t love him, you would give up your life for him but you didn’t have to show it to him
He knew that as well, you were just like that and he didn’t care what people thought of your relationship
He was happy and so were you
“Hey Bo, it seems like you and Y/n don’t seem to get along” Atsumu starts with his ideas while everyone ate dinner together
“What do you mean by that?” Bokuto asked munching on his food happily
“I don’t know, it seems like both of you are unhappy, I mean doesn’t it get tiring not to have Y/n show you some love and affection”
Bokuto didn’t think about that, he does get jealous seeing couples showing affection in public, whenever he tried it with you, you would push him away
“I guess you’re right”
“Hey look Bo, I have some girlfriends I would like to introduce to you” Atsumu wanted Bokuto to have fun
Clearly seeing you wouldn’t give him that sort of happiness, he had to help Bokuto find it
Flings, Bokuto found comfort from other women while you waited anxiously in bed worried about his well being
These girls gave him a few hours of affection nothing else, something he never had with you
These girls would flirt and hold his hand and take him to bed and even leave tiny sticky notes wishing him good luck
Then a big argument bursted between you and him on a cold night
“Bokuto, I came home late from work, I didn’t do anything else!”
You didn’t make it to his game due to your job who kept you in till midnight
You brought bags of food and gifts for him knowing that he won that night
“Everyone was right, you never did care” he huffed out angrily
“You’ll never be those girls!”
Then the truth came out; “You say I’m the worst person, you’re trash Bokuto”
You huffed out in tears as Bokuto tried to keep you in place and apologize to you
He watched you hit him and scream at him
In the end you forgave him because like I said again, you would give up your life for him
But sadly he watched your relationship crash and burn, there was a day that you didn’t think of him or even have the desire to talk to him
Days grew colder and you grew apart from him, he couldn’t stop you because you didn’t look at him the same way
You stopped caring for him by doing little things, you stopped saying goodnight
So many things you did for him was gone
The both of you would be invited to a party, you wouldn’t be by his side, you were just gone with another group of friends
In the end of the night, both of you didn’t say anything, he just watched you pack your things and left without a word
No matter how much he begged, you didn’t love him no more
He wasn’t in your heart anymore, he didn’t stand a chance, now it’s late
Leaving behind a crushed Bokuto who is now weeping on the floor trying to form words to make you stay
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milkiane · 4 years
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broken promises
pairings: fred weasley x reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of war, death eaters, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, mentions of an angry padfoot, tiny fluff, and most importantly: angst angst angst
word count: 7498 ;-)
note: i hope you have the box of kleenex and a tub of ice cream i asked you to bring, because shit’s about to get real !!
how does one narrate a well-structured story when your life has been an absolute mess? well, i guess you could start from the night you met him.
take me back to the night we met.
it was rather unusual to see an upcoming sixth year amongst the flock of first years. you were studying at hogwarts for the first time, and you were quite glad that your dad, also known as the infamous sirius black, finally let you move in with him in 12 grimmauld place, as he claimed to finally have his life together.
you were formerly from the states. moving in with your aunt (a cousin of your father’s), and studying in ilvermorny as soon as you turned 11, explaining the prominent american accent amongst the british ones.
as soon as the sorting hat decided which house you would be in, professor mcgonagall, an elderly witch in long green robes and a pointed hat, told you to meet her at the deputy headmistress’s office after the feast.
you wished that you'd asked where the office was because now you were getting lost within the numerous hallways, stairs, and rooms of hogwarts. you knew how huge this school was, but you didn’t expect it to be too enormous to get lost in.
you were currently passing by a hallway full of paintings who were having an animated chat with one another. you let yourself smile softly, admiring the magic between the hallways. some of them greeted you, which you gladly returned.
you were about to take a turn in the hallway to your left when someone suddenly yelled, “hey, wait, no!”
“wha-?” but you were too late, as soon as you stepped foot in that corridor, you were immediately drenched in orange and purple slime.
too shocked to move, you stood there frozen. the guy who yelled, stood frozen as well, grimacing as you carefully wiped the slime off your face.
fred closed his eyes in mortification, expecting you to be mad. he anticipated yelling or scolding, and maybe even if you considered beating him to the pulp. when it didn’t come, he peeked an eye out open to see you levitating the slime off your body, and before he even knew it, he, too, was drenched in slime.
you laughed, and he swore he never heard anything so angelic until he got a fleeting speck of it. he didn’t even mind the slime dripping off him when he finally got to see a proper look at you. if he was going to be honest, he never really paid attention to the sorting ceremony. he and george have been talking about all the pranks they’re planning to pull, so this was the first time he caught the sight of you, and oh sweet baby merlin, he thought, you were stunning.
he snapped out of his trance when you decided to speak up, “so, is this some sort of welcoming tradition for the new-comers?”
“oh, only for the ravishing ones,” he smirked, giving himself a mental pat on the back for immediately coming up with the witty one-liner.
you rolled your eyes, fixing your brand new y/h robes. fred looked at you with curiosity, “what are you doing here, anyway? students don’t normally roam around here, most especially newbies. that’s why i waited for good ol’ filch whereas george was grabbing the dung bombs,” realizing that you probably had no idea who filch or george was, he stopped talking, giving you some room to talk.
“ah, well-”
“miss black! there you are, i had to question a few students and paintings about your whereabouts. th—“ she stopped speaking, glancing at the redhead behind me, “mr. weasley! what- what is the meaning of this? why are you drenched in goop?”
fred grinned, sending a wink your way, “that’s my cue! see ya ‘round, gorgeous. oh, and you, too, minnie!”
you and the deputy headmistress stared at his retreating figure with amusement. professor mcgonagall led you to her office and let you choose from the various optional classes and introduced you to a student who’ll give you a tour around the obsolete castle.
our friendship will never die, you're gonna see it's our destiny.
it has been two days since that fateful night when you met a certain redhead. you were trying to recall the directions towards the charms classroom when someone ran past you, harshly bumping your shoulder, and consequently making you drop your things. a distant yelp from behind you was heard, “oi! george, you prat!”
“godric, ’m sorry, didn’t notice you,” he said, picking up your fallen books and pouch of quills and ink. you looked up and recognized the fiery red hair and deep brown eyes.
“y’know, i should really anticipate the day when we’ll run into each other without you dousing me in slime or bumping into me when you're running away from someone,” you laughed, taking the books from him as you stood up with your pouch in hand.
“what d'you mean?” he tilted his head, evident confusion occupying his face.
you observed him, seeing if this is some kind of joke that he was playing. when you’ve seen no mischief swimming in his eyes or a smirk, you knew he was serious.
“oh, come on, weasley. i don’t reckon getting drenched in slime would be effortlessly forgettable,” you asked.
“i remember you, just not when you were, erm, drenched in slime. i saw you at the sorting ceremony. padfoot's daughter, yeah?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. he rummaged through his head for where he could’ve possibly seen you. he felt bad that he didn’t know what you were talking about.
you sort of thought you left an impression. well, seeing as you were a victim in one of his pranks. “well, yeah, that, too, but i was talking about when i was in a hallway you claimed was deserted? then professor mcgonagall found us? no?”
he frowned, but just as his lips turned downwards, he started chuckling. weird.
“what’s so funny?”
“we haven’t particularly met.”
“what d’you mean? i’m rather sure that i wasn’t dreaming when that happened,”
he laughed, running a hand through his hair, “don’t worry, you weren’t,”
you were confused, to say the least, but then another voice from behind you spoke up, “that’s because it was me who you met that crucial night, goop,”
you looked up at him just in time as he swung an arm around your shoulder. you looked back between the guy who bumped into you and the guy who drenched you in slime.
back and forth.
forth and back.
red hair. red hair.
twin. twin.
“oh. OH!” you exclaimed, “twins! oh, merlin, this is embarrassing,” you laughed sheepishly. of course, that just had to happen.
they both laughed along with you. fred removed his hold on you and stood beside his twin, “yes, twins.”
george chuckled, offering you his hand to shake, “‘m george weasley, the bloke who drenched you in slime’s twin, and i sure won’t be forgetting about you now.”
i chuckled, shaking your head, “would you two be so nice and show me the way to charms? ‘ve got a few more minutes before classes start,”
“‘course, we’ve got nothing better to do than escort a pretty girl to her class, anyway,” fred, at least you thought it was fred, winked at you, making you huff amusingly.
the three of you walked together towards the desired destination as they, too, had charms, when curiosity got the best of you and asked, “hey george?”
he looked down at you, blame the evident height differences. “yeah?”
“why were you even running away a while ago?”
his eyes widened and fred smirked, taking his frozen state as an opportunity to smack his head, “tosspot left me with snape when he caught us, he got to run away whilst i got a weeks worth of detention,”
you snorted, “first rule of pranking is you don’t get caught, and here i thought you two were experts,”
“oh we are, darling! snape’s just timed well-- greasy prat’s been waiting for the chance to punish us.”
“well, if you’d let me, i’d be willing to be an apprentice for this little mischievous escapade of yours,” you offered, smiling as they both looked at each other with compelled looks.
“alright, freddie? reckon this is a start of a revolutionary friendship,”
“a start of a revolutionary friendship, indeed, georgie.”
“well, now that we’ve established our apprenticeship, ‘tis lovely to meet you both, i’m y/n black.” you smiled, taking each of their hands. they grinned mischievously, “glad to have you with us, miss black,” and before you knew it, they dragged you to the classroom by your arms.
each night i ask the stars up above, why must i be a teenager in love?
“you fancy him, don’t you?” you shifted your gaze away from fred and glanced at george, who was looking at you with a pointed look.
you knew that you could trust george, he’s your best friend, and you are his. you knew that he wouldn’t tell a soul, even fred, despite him being his twin.
you sighed, “yeah, yeah, i do,”
he nodded, a thoughtful look on his face, “do you ever plan on telling him?”
“no. it’s obvious that he doesn’t like me back. he sees me as his best friend and i certainly don’t want to ruin our dynamics, george.” you whispered as you saw fred making his way towards the both of you.
“what’re the two of you whispering about?” fred whispered, moving his head in between you and george.
you smiled, “fred. but don’t tell him that! we don’t want to feed his egotistical attitude if he ever finds out,”
“oh? well, why’re you talking about,” he looks at his surroundings as if he didn’t want anyone to hear, “fred?”
“we were debating whether he’s the most handsome twin, or if it’s george.”
“and who’d you say?”
“george, of course,”
fred gasped dramatically, earning a harsh glare from madam pince, “you wound me, woman! how could i possibly live with the betrayal?”
you giggled silently, scared that madam pince might consider giving you her wrath, “sit down, you wanker, madam pince might kick us out again.”
“are you actually scared of the librarian?” george chuckled.
you look at him with wide eyes, “how’re you not? if looks could kill, she’d give he who must not be named a run for his money!”
“SHHH!” speak of the devil. you cowered away in between the twins as they made fun of you.
“it isn’t funny!” you whispered, tilting your head so your hair curtained your face.
“i don’t know, goop, it’s quite hilarious,” george continued snickering. ‘goop’ has been their nickname for you ever since your first encounter with fred, it was supposed to be a one-time thing, the nickname, but they sort of just stuck with it.
fred cooed, “aww, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, i’ll— georgie and i will protect you from pince’s frenzy,”
you rolled your eyes trying to express irritation, but the smile on your lips have betrayed you. you were about to respond when you’ve been interrupted by a couple of giggling second-year girls.
the three of you snapped your heads towards them, confused.
“s’there anything you’d like to share, ladies?” fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows, making them giggle more. you and george shared a glance and smiled.
the three of them looked at you, making you dumbfounded, “is he your boyfriend?”
your eyes widened in surprise, but you decided to play along and joke, “which one?”
they giggled, pointing at fred.
you both looked at each other with raised eyebrows and small smiles.
“yes.”
“no.”
you looked at each other once more, you with a mix of stun and disbelief, fred had a huge grin on his face. and george? george just rolled his eyes, displeased with the obliviousness of his best friend and twin who clearly got the hots for each other.
“we’d make such a cute couple, no?” fred asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder.
you looked at the girls and gave them a wink, “hmm, i don’t know… i’m not particularly fond of having ginger babies.” they giggled. gee, what was wrong with them and giggling?
he rolled his eyes and leaned forward, gesturing for the second years to come closer. fred smiled at them and whispered, “i’m not her boyfriend, i’m her husband,” they gasped, grabbing your attention, you tried to make out what he was saying but to no avail.
“yeah, we’re married, and now you better start calling her mrs. weasley whenever you see her, yeah?” fred grinned mischievously before leaning back to his chair. you looked at him in suspicion, but he paid you no mind as he opened up a book that you both know he won’t read.
you shook your head, checking your watch for the time, “i better get going, i promised to help hermione with differentiating runes,” you kissed the cheek of both boys, but lingering a bit with fred. when you pulled back, you waved at the girls.
they giddily waved back and said, “goodbye! see you around, mrs. weasley!”
you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around to glare at the sniggering twins. you scoffed, turning back around and leaving the library, avoiding the gaze of the frightening librarian. as soon as you were out of sight, you let out a chuckle, feeling your cheeks heat up.
fred watched you gradually get smaller as you left the library. he would be lying if he said that he didn’t wish to be in a relationship with you, but he didn’t want to make a move— afraid that you’ll reject him and your friendship would be broken. he adores your friendship too much to risk it.
george watched as his brother stared at your retreating figure with love and longing. he shooed away the girls so that he could talk to him without any disturbances.
he repeated the question he asked you moments before fred arrived, “you fancy her, don’t you?”
he snapped his gaze to his brother, eyes wide and brows raised, “huh?”
“y/n. d’you fancy her?” he repeated, this time facing his parchment to continue writing the order forms.
“why? do you?”
“no. now, answer my question.”
fred sighed, “i’m head over heels for her, georgie,”
george just smiled at his brother, mentally counting all the galleons he’ll be able to receive within the month— he knew you’d get together sooner or later, but george definitely wished it‘d be sooner because he doesn’t really fancy losing tons of galleons.
we used to steal your parents' liquor, and climb to the roof. talk about our future, like we had a clue.
after weeks of pining after each other, and a very satisfied (and a few galleons richer) george later, you can finally say that fredrick gideon weasley was now your boyfriend. all you had to do now is to tell your father.
the weasleys were staying over at 12 grimmauld place for the holidays, much to yours and fred’s pleasure.
the ‘adults’ (they still didn’t want you and the twins to join despite your age legality) were still having the meeting and it was quite late. you just had to wait till everyone was sound asleep before sneaking out of your room and wait for fred in the lounge.
once you’ve heard the satisfying shut of each door, you quietly tiptoed around your room with your fluffy socks on, determined not to wake ginny and hermione up.
once you opened the door, you were met with the sound of another door opening. you froze, hastily thinking of some sort of excuse as to why you were still awake.
you didn’t see nor hear any signs of movement so you peeked your head a bit, and saw fred doing the same. you quietly giggled, carefully shutting the door as you made your way to fred.
“hi goop, missed you,” fred mumbled, fuzzing his head in the crook of your neck.
you laughed silently, “fred, we just saw each other three hours ago.”
“i know, but that was too long. it felt like forever,” he smiled, “now, c’mon, we need to celebrate,”
“celebrate? for what?”
“for successfully sneaking out, of course,” he said, steering you around the house, hand in hand. “now, d’you reckon your dad has a stash of fire whiskey somewhere?”
you hummed, removing the hold of his hand and rummaged through the kitchen's cupboards, “aha! there y’are,”
fred turned his gaze towards you as you shook the whiskey in his face, “let’s go,”
he grabbed the shot glasses and a blanket that was laying around in the couch before letting you drag him away.
“c’mon, freddie,” you whispered, slowly opening the attic ladder, hoping that kreacher was nowhere to be seen.
you both went in, careful not to step on any creaking floorboards. when you reached the window you opened it and handed the whiskey to fred, “give me a minute,”
“be careful!” he exclaimed, nervously watching you climb over the ledge.
“always am,” you winked before raising yourself and onto the roof, “give me that and climb,”
fred did so, and as soon as the both of you were up there, he threw the thick blanket over the both of you, and cuddled with each other.
a couple of shots later, the both of you were giggling, talking about all the pranks you’ve managed to pull through the years you’ve been in hogwarts. the laughter soon died down and the sounds of breathing, the wind, and the engines of the muggle vehicles were the only things that were heard.
“do… do you ever think about the future?” fred asked. you stared at him, he wasn’t looking at you though, he was gazing at the twinkling stars up above.
“yeah… they mostly contain you, though,” you whispered, placing your head on his chest as he pulled you closer.
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“me, too,” he smiled, kissing your forehead.
you sat up and kissed his nose, “c’mon, red, reckon we’ve had too much to drink,”
the both of you packed up everything you’ve used, carefully made your way down, kept the firewhiskey, and washed the glasses. too tired and drunk to go to bed, the both of you retired on the couch, sleeping in each other’s arms.
as soon as the sun crept up through the window blinds, you groaned, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the sleep. once you’ve gotten used to the blinding light, you looked up and smiled at your sleeping redhead.
you slowly slipped out of his grasp, kissed his forehead, and walked towards the drawers to look for painkillers. you haven’t even drunk that much.
fred woke up a little while later after feeling the warmth of your body heat disappear, he yawned quietly, taking in his surroundings and remembered what happened last night. he was quite giddy, to say the least. he has been after hearing that you thought of having a future with him.
he stood up and saw you at the kitchens, drinking a glass of water. he made his way towards you and slipped his arms around you, hugging from behind.
“g’morning, love,” his morning voice still never fails to make you flustered.
“morning, freddie,” you smiled. he moved around you and grabbed a cup of water for himself. as soon as he made sure his morning breath was out of the way, he smiled at you, “it’s nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today.”
he leaned against the counter as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
fred gladly complied, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. you slowly bit his bottom lip, emitting a low groan from him.
sirius just woke up and was desperately in need of a cup of black coffee, no pun intended, he chuckled. he grabbed his hair brush from his vanity, brushing his tousled hair as he silently went down, careful not to wake anyone up.
as soon as he entered the kitchen, he was met with the sight of the weasley boy groping his daughter’s arse. his hand stopped mid-brush.
“get your hands off my daughter, weasley!” he growled, making his way towards the poor bloke.
the both of you immediately jumped away from each other, eyes wide. this isn’t how he’s supposed to find out!
fred was scared shitless, if he might say, so he carefully backed away as sirius approached him like a predator.
fred ran. yes, ran. and sirius? he chased him around the kitchen with his hair brush in hand.
“‘m sorry, sirius, don’t kill me,”
“how dare you come into my house and snog my daughter!”
“no, sirius, ‘m sorry!”
“then you strut around and grope her arse like that,”
“sirius! said ‘m sorry, put the hair brush down!”
“didn’t molly teach you any manners?!”
“she did, she did, she’s a wonderful mother. sirius, no!”
in other times, you would’ve stopped the chaos whilst sirius, who was still in his dog-printed pajamas, chased a very pale fred around the kitchen with a hair brush.
but you didn’t, so you were laughing your arse off. you wouldn’t want to miss the chance to laugh your arse out with what’s happening. you knew your dad was a sweetheart, he wouldn’t actually kill fred, right? … right?
soon, every member of the order and the children, frantically went down with their wands drawn out, looking around for trouble, but they, instead of seeing any death-eater related attacks, saw a very angry padfoot manhunting a 6’3 ginger twin with a harmless hair brush, and a wheezing y/n.
“mum, hide me! he’s gonna murder me with a brush!” fred immediately took cover behind his mother. she and the other adults sighed exasperatedly but smiling nonetheless.
“thought someone was getting tortured with how freddie was screaming bloody murder,” george snickered.
“get out here and face me like a man, fredrick!” sirius growled, but stopped a bit and asked, “or is it george?”
fred cowered away behind his mum, “george, george! ‘tis definitely ‘im!”
george’s eyes widened and yelped, “‘m george! he’s fred!”
“dad! stop that, fred and i are dating,” you said, wiping your tears away.
sirius was taken aback, lowering his weapon, “what?”
“we were supposed to tell you today, but i guess you were just too eager,” you teased him, making your way towards fred and intertwining your hands together. fred looked slightly hesitant but smiled sheepishly at your father.
sirius just squinted his eyes at fred, racking over the tall redhead, “you better watch your behavior, boy, or you might as well just sleep with an eye open.”
you knew your dad loved fred, he’s been asking about him the moment you’ve told him about your blooming friendship and the pranking adventures you have had. he admires the bloke, fred reminds him of his younger self, minus the playboy endeavors and the family issues. he approves of the boy, but that doesn’t mean he fancies waking up to him snogging his daughter.
sirius slowly approached fred, opening his arms for a hug, but fred flinched, making everyone laugh. when he realized what sirius was trying to do, he laughed nervously, hugging him back and awkwardly patting his back. he was about to pull away when sirius tugged him back in and whispered, “i’m serious, fred. one wrong move, and i’ll be damned to be back in azkaban,”
fred shuddered slightly, but nodded nonetheless, “i’ll never hurt her, sirius, she means the world to me.” he smiled, both of them looking at you as you laughed with george and remus, retelling them what happened.
i don't promise a lot, but i'm keeping my word.
it has been at least a year and a few months since your father has passed, and fred has been with you through it all. you were spending your holidays at the burrow with the rest of the weasleys (plus harry, remus, and tonks).
you were currently in the living room, gossiping about boys (well, you were talking about fred) and the latest scandals in hogwarts with ginny.
“gin, i mean, have you seen the way harry’s been looking at you during dinner?” you asked, watching as her face grew red.
“he has not! ‘m convinced that you inhaled too much of fred’s perfume to be talking ‘bout something as poxy as that, y/n.” she laughed, fiddling with her sleeping robes.
“can you blame me? he smells so good. now, don’t tell me you haven’t had a sniff of thou chosen one’s essence?” you giggled, “c’mon gin! the both of you are meant to be, you’re soulmates, a stubborn one, at that.”
“we’re not, y/n! you and fred’re the proper definition of soulmates,”
you smiled softly, “it’ll take time, ginny. i can see the way he looks at you, it’s the same way i look at your brother,”
she sighed, “let’s just hope you’re right,”
“i’m always right,” you joked, waving at fred as he made his way towards the both of you.
“what’re my lovely girlfriend and sister talking about?” he smiled, kissing your cheek.
“soulmates,” ginny shrugged, looking away from harry.
“soulmates? what a load of bollocks,” fred’s face twisted in disgust, before whispering in your ear, “we’re definitely soulmates though,”
your face started to heat up and you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, “yeah?”
“yeah,” he pecked your lips, throwing an arm around your shoulder and turning to ginny, “yeah!”
“i reckon he’ll marry you on the spot if he can,” she rolled her eyes, smiling as well since she heard what fred said.
“oh i would’ve done it the moment she drenched me in slime, but it has to be special, y’know?” he said, peppering your face with kisses, “flowers, confetti, diamond ring, grand gestures, all that sort.”
“freddie, i’ll marry you even if you propose with a toy ring,” you beamed up at him, kissing his nose, “because i’ll love you forever and always.”
“i’ll love you forever and always, too, goop,” he said, looking at you with pure love and adoration, “and that’s a promise.”
i'll say, "will you marry me?", i swear that i will mean it.
and fred did mean it as you’ve been together for four years now and counting.
“we’re in this together, goop,” he said, which leads to where you are now, fighting off the death eaters and co, side-by-side.
“stupefy!” you shouted, knocking off the death eater charging towards percy.
“thanks,” he breathed out, you nodded, “no problem.”
“incendio!”
“ascendio!”
“incarcerous!”
“stupefy!”
“petrificus totalus!”
you saw fred and percy handling a group of death eaters beside you as you finished off one, but what edged you off was one of them raised their wand, but it wasn’t pointing at any one of you. it was pointing at something behind you, you looked back just in time as he yelled the spell.
“fred!” you pushed him, mustering up all your strength to bring you along as the wall from behind you collapsed.
you coughed, “stupefy!” successfully throwing back the man.
you detach yourself from fred, “fred, fred?” you patted his cheeks, he was still breathing.
“c’mon darling, you have to wake up,” you cried, looking up for a bit as percy kept the remaining death eaters distracted.
“marry me,” fred whispered
you let out a breath of relief as you looked down, “w-what?” you wiped off the dust in his face.
“marry me,” he said more clearly, slowly sitting up to cup your face.
you slapped his arm, “you could’ve gotten yourself killed, you numpty!”
“but… i didn’t?” he yelped, rubbing his arm to soothe the pain, “not the answer that i was expecting but, alright,”
“marry me, y/n,” he kneeled down on one knee, grasping your hands, “i know that this isn’t exactly the proposal i’ve had in mind, hell, i don’t even have the ring, but i love you ‘till the ends of the earth and i’m asking you once again, y/n black. will you do the honors of being my future wife?”
you cried, nodding your head as you didn’t trust yourself to speak up. you pulled him in a hug as you sobbed against your shoulder, “i love you, too, fred, forever and always,”
he kissed you, he kissed you like it was the last thing he’ll ever get to do.
“erm, guys, i’m terribly happy for the both of you, and i hate to say this but we’re in the middle of a war!” percy warned.
“c’mon, goop, we’ve got a war to win,” fred kissed you one last time before the both of you ran off to help percy.
and i realized, no, we're not promised tomorrow.
they said that a couple’s wedding day is bound to be the best day of their lives. a new chapter to write. a new door to open. a new voyage to venture. tons of possibilities.
you were standing in front of a length-view mirror, admiring yourself in the reflection. you were wearing the wedding dress of your dreams, your hair was styled into a sophisticated up-do, and your makeup was elegant.
“hey, sis-in-law, you ready?” george peeked his head through the door, “wow, i-”
“hi george,” you smiled, wiping off the tears gathering in your eyes, “oh, merlin,”
“freddie’s gonna go bonkers,” he hugged you, pulling back to admire you once again, “c’mon.”
you and fred granted george to be his best man and the one who’ll walk you across the aisle, and for the first time in your six years of friendship, you swore you never saw him hug you so tight with tears in his eyes.
as soon as you arrived in front of the closed archway, george stopped to look at you, “you sure you don’t want to back out, goop? fred farts in his sleep sometimes. ‘ve got the keys of the flying ford anglia in case you ever need an escape plan,” he joked.
you giggled, “i think i can handle a farting fred, georgie. i’ve been your best friend for too long, you’ll never know how much i’ve been through,”
he chuckled, “if that’s the case, then let’s go get you and loverboy officially married,”
as soon as the door’s been opened, you suck in a breath, awestruck with how the decorations were perfect— all thanks to molly’s orders and hermione’s organizing, guests in their assigned seats, and most especially, your husband-to-be clad in a black and white tuxedo, tears gathering in his eyes. everything was so magical.
you were expecting that today would be the happiest day of your life, you were expecting to exchange your detailed vows with fred, you were expecting for the long-awaited “i do’s”, you were expecting to seal the deal with a kiss, you were expecting to have a wedding ring as an eternal promise displayed on your left ring finger, you were expecting to listen to george’s embarrassing stories of you newlyweds, you were expecting to start your future with fred.
what you didn’t expect though? was that as soon as george gave you away, as soon as you were standing in front of him, fred apologized and ran away, tugging at his tie.
your smile disappeared.
the guests gasped, turning their attention to you as ron and arthur chased after him. tears started to pool in your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. you hardly noticed that the guests were anticipating your reaction or that the weasleys were ushering them into the venue where the reception was supposed to be. you were just staring at the place where fred once stood, expecting him to come back and say that it was all a prank.
but he didn’t, and that’s what broke you the most.
you collapsed on the floor, sobbing on george’s shoulder as he whispered some comforting words.
you’ve waited, and waited, and waited.
you sat on the step board, still in your wedding dress, tear-stained face, and messy hair. george offered some company, just sitting beside you as you stayed silent, rubbing your back soothingly as the guests bid you goodbye with sad smiles.
george was mad. no, that was an understatement, he was fuming. he knew how much fred loved you. he knew all the plans he had in store for the both of you. he knew all the words fred will say in his vows. what changed?
as soon as everyone had cleared out, you refused to leave from where you were. you refused the food they gave you, or the clothes to change into. you were positive that fred would come back. he promised.
“c’mon, y/n, please, let’s just get you home,” george said, offering you his hand.
“no, i-i’ll stay, george,” you said, your voice cracking, “i’ll wait for him, he’ll come back. he can never do this to me, he wouldn’t.”
but you were wrong. he never came back. he broke his promise.
by the time the clock struck 7, george have had enough of your stubbornness. he understood how you felt, of course, but he didn’t want his best friend to wait all night for someone he knew wouldn’t come back.
so the both of you walked, he shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. you didn’t want to come back to the burrow, but you had to pick up your godson and be on your way. you didn’t see fred there either. you ignored everyone and all their pitying stares. you didn’t even hug molly back when she wanted to comfort you.
you just carefully detached yourself from her, grabbed your godson, and went out. you and george were walking in silence as he carried the boy, walking the both of you towards the apparition point.
george sighed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing you for a while, and he wanted to give you some space, so brought the sleeping kid to your hold and kissed your forehead, “owl me whenever you need me, yeah?”
you forced a sad smile, “thanks georgie, i’ll see you around,” and apparated away to 12 grimmauld place.
you said you'll grow old with me.
“uncle georgie!!” teddy, your godson, immediately abandoned his coloring book and leaped in the arms of george.
“hey, little man!” he laughed, watching as teddy’s hair turned into the same shade of red as his. it always happens ever since he decided that george was his favorite uncle (don’t tell harry!), and he’ll never change it to his original hair color until the next day.
you smiled, placing your cup of coffee down to greet your best friend, “hey, george,” you kissed his cheek.
“‘m just checkin’ in, how’re the both of you?” he asked, ruffling teddy’s red hair.
“good! mum—“ he stopped, “erm, i mean, auntie y/n will finally bring me to di-gonley later!”
your heart stopped for a moment when he called you ‘mum’. this hasn’t been the first time that it happened, he usually gets too preoccupied to notice, but you never mentioned it nor talked to him about it as he still missed his biological mother. “it’s diagon alley, lovey, and yes, we’ll be leaving in a few,”
you walked away from them and grabbed your purse, “go ask uncle georgie if he wants to come join.”
he beamed, grabbing george’s hands, “can you please come with us, uncle georgie? please, please, please?”
george sent him a faux look of contemplation, “hmm, i don’t know, teddy. d’you think auntie y/n will buy us some ice cream?”
teddy gasped, and wobbled his way to you, “auntie y/n! will you buy us some ice cream? uncle georgie said he’ll join if you do!”
you playfully glared at george, making him chuckle, before returning your gaze to teddy lupin, whose face was now in what you’ll describe as his, ‘i’m-a-very-adorable-boy-please-give-in’.
“oh, alright, let uncle georgie help you wear your shoes,”
as soon as the three of you were good to go, you floo’ed your way to diagon alley. you never apparated when you were with teddy, he usually gets sick when you do, so you had to fixate a floo network in your muggle flat. it was an incredible hassle, especially with muggle neighbors. you had to use multiple silencing spells while the wizards in charge were doing it.
it’s been a while since you’ve been to diagon alley, you’ve avoided it at all costs, especially after… that … anyways, teddy has been seriously adamant on going ever since george told him all about it and his shop.
you knew that you couldn’t fend it (and him) off forever, so after mustering up every courage you had, you agreed. you reckon that it was worth it, seeing your godson, the boy who made your life full of hope and happiness again, incredibly bubbly and cheerful, it eased your nerves a bit.
fred knew that his twin was off to go somewhere. george always tells him, but he never mentions where he’s going or who he’s meeting, just that he had places to be. so to busy himself, he went to florean fortescue’s ice cream parlor to cool off.
while waiting for your order of three cones of ice cream, george offered to bring teddy to flourish and bott’s since he knew how much teddy loves coloring books and bedtime storybooks.
once fred passed by the street, he opened the entrance with a satisfying ring of the welcoming bell. he breathed in the sweet smell of the countless flavors of ice cream. he scanned through the shop for a place to sit when it suddenly stopped at the sight of a familiar h/c. he froze, no, it couldn’t be, right?
“three servings of ice cream supreme for y/n!” the man hollered.
no…
you stood up and made your way towards the front, and fred had gotten a glimpse of you. you looked gorgeous, you always were, fred thought. you were using a hairband, something you used to despise as it always hurt the back of your ears, doing its job to keep your hair away from your face.
you took your order just in time to see your companions for the day, oblivious to the stare of another certain ginger.
“mum! uncle georgie bought me a new book! ‘tis about dragons!” a tiny redhead exclaimed with glee.
fred felt his heart drop, ‘mum’? ‘uncle georgie’? red hair…? again, it couldn’t be, right?
“edward remus! lower your voice, darling,” you chuckled, setting your ice creams down on your table.
“oops, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, covering his mouth.
before you could even reply, a voice from behind you has spoken up, “erm, y/n?”
your breath hitched in your throat. “no,” you whispered.
george grimaced, grabbing your ice creams and a very confused teddy’s hand, “we’ll be at the shop if you want to leave,” he whispered to you before leaving the both of you alone (minus the parlor’s customers and employees).
you frowned, following them out, and steered away from your ex-fiancé.
“y/n, wait!” fred followed you out and grabbed your hand.
you whipped around to face him, pulling your hand away from his hold, tears pooling in your eyes, “what do you want, fred?”
“was that your kid?” he asked casually, trying to hide his nervousness.
“no- he’s teddy, lupin and tonks’ kid, i’m his godmother. he forgets that i’m not his biological mum sometimes, and if you were wondering why his hair was red, it’s because he loves george.” you said, “now, ‘m gonna ask you again, fred, what. do. you. want?”
“i- i just wanted to talk,” he mumbled, looking down at his shiny shoes to refrain from looking at your crestfallen expression.
“seriously, fred? you want to talk?” you scoffed in disbelief, “alright, let’s talk, let’s talk about how you left me, let’s talk about how you broke your promise, let’s talk about how you broke me,”
fred winced at your wavering voice, “‘m sorry, darling,”
“are you really, fred? because- because it’s been almost two years and you—“ you sighed, wiping away your tears to no avail, it’s still falling. instead, you asked him the question that’s been on your mind ever since, “why did you leave me?”
“i was scared,” he started, cracking his knuckles. a mannerism of his when he’s feeling anxious.
“scared of what exactly?” you urged, determined to know what he was so afraid of that he had to run away on your wedding day.
“of you…” he mumbled, looking up at you. he wished he hadn’t because he didn’t know it was possible for you to look even broken than before.
“me?” your voice cracked, “so it’s my fault, now?”
fred shook his head, getting frustrated at himself, “no, no. i was scared that, if you married me, you’d get hurt because i might not live up to your expectations.”
“bullshit, fred!” you cried, earning a few looks from the bystanders, you didn’t care, and nor did fred, “why? don’t you think i’m getting hurt right now?”
fred felt his tears in his eyes, “i’ve had so many doubts, so many questions, y/n,” you were about to reply when he raised hand, “and no, it wasn’t about you, just please, listen,”
he sucked in a breath, “y/n, what if i said yes?”
“we would’ve been happy, we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” you whimpered, feeling the heartbreak you’ve once experienced over and over again, “did you even really love me?”
“i did, i still do, but you deserve so much better than me, y/n” fred whispered, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you again.
you shook your head, “stop lying, fred."
“no, y/n! what if i said yes and i wouldn’t be able to keep my vows?”
“well, fred, you didn’t even get to marry me and you already broke the promise! now, tell me, did that answer your questions?” you asked, “did it, fred?”
fred let a tear fall, “no, no it didn’t. it just made me realize how hard it was to lose you,”
you sniffled, staring up at the sky to keep the tears in bay, “i loved you, fred! i loved you and you left me. i loved you… and i still do, and i hate myself for it because no matter how hard i try to convince myself that i’ve moved on, i haven’t. fred, i still look for you in everyone in hopes that i could somehow get some closure… and it doesn’t help that i see you in everything as well; i remember you when i see a plate of pancakes, knowing how you love them with chocolate, i remember you when it rains because we used to dance around in it like there’s no one around. it hurts, freddie. it hurts because i see you everywhere because we used to do everything together.”
“and i regret it, alright? i regret letting you go. it has been eating me alive ever since. i couldn’t function well without you,” he whispered, “and all i’m asking is for forgiveness, y/n.”
you just stared at him, hiccuping as you continued to cry. you wanted to leap into his warm embrace and forgive him. you wanted to take him back. you wanted to kiss him. you just wanted to be in his arms again. you just wanted to be with him again.
but he hurt you. he hurt you in many ways you’ve never expected. he broke you. the same guy who swore to your father that he’ll never hurt you. the same guy who promised to marry you and spend the rest of your life with.
fred saw the hesitation and hurt in your eyes so he sighed, “i’m sorry, goop. i’m sorry for being such a coward. i was never ready to say goodbye… i never was,” he took one last glance at you before leaving you once again.
you sobbed as you watched his figure retreat slowly. you didn’t care if there were people looking at you with concern and pity. you didn’t care if someone had accidentally bumped into you. your mind was too busy with the thoughts of fred, so you apparated back into your flat, trusting george to take care of teddy for a while.
fred’s heart broke even more as he heard your distant sob. he let the tears gathered in his eyes fall. all he wanted to do was to bring you in his arms and shower you with his love, make up for all the lost time, but he knew that he deserved the pain. he deserved it because he hurt you, he broke you, and he can never forgive himself for that.
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nataliedanovelist · 3 years
Text
GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.7 (finale)
While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.
ch.6
AO3 link
~~~~~~~~~~
Ford sat on the kitchen floor with his back against the cupboards, clinging to his knees, his glasses still in hand. His throat was sore and his eyes hurt and his nose was runny and his heart was raw and broken, and yet he wasn’t done crying. Though he was done sobbing and occasionally crying so hard he thought he would throw up, free-flowing tears still streamed down his face as he hid the bottom-half of his head in his beefy arms. 
“What do we do now?” He moaned.
Stan looked at the know-it-all who didn’t have a clue. He sighed and moved to sit next to him, his back against the cupboard and his knees up by his chest as he combed his mullet. “I dunno… Sit here and die?”
Ford hiccuped a cruel laugh and buried his face in his arms fully. “I wish I could.”
Stan snorted. “What’s that saying? The good die young?”
Ford groaned and started to sob again. 
Stan rubbed his back, his head against the cupboard and he looked up at the ceiling. “O-Okay, okay… Let’s think about this. So we never made up, or something else really bad happened between us, and that’s the timeline Mabel was from, right?”
“Right.” Ford gruffed, lifting his head up and rubbing his eyes dry.
“So, since that didn’t happen, or it happened differently… B-But that doesn’t mean she’s… She’ll still exist in our timeline, won’t she? She’s gonna be okay?” He asked the scientist, digging for some kind of hope.
Ford sighed and rested his cleft chin on his arms. “As long as what happened didn’t interfere with Alex’s life too much… Which I don’t know how it could… Mabel and Dipper should still be born in 1999. There’s a small possibility they’ll be different than what they once were, or because of some unseen butterfly effect, their birth might be different or might not happen at all… But…”
The eldest by fifteen minutes slipped his glasses back on, stood, and said stubbornly, “I’m going to do what I can to ensure it is a better future than what the kids had. Our entire family was broken because of what we did and didn’t do. Clearly either one of us went insane or died or something horrible, and I won’t allow that to happen.”
“I don’t think we gotta worry too much about that happening.” Stan said from down on the floor. “I mean, if Mabel changed things so much that an entire reality changed, then we don’t really gotta do much except not screw this up.”
Ford laughed and held out a hand to his twin, who gladly clasped it and stood. “You’re right.”
But the men were disheartened to finally notice the mess in the kitchen. Mabel’s cake batter sat on the flour-dusted counter, the oven was hot and ready for baking, and the muffin tray was on the floor from where Mabel dropped it. Ford looked down at the sweater he was wearing - the sweater she had knitted for him - and without a word he walked to the living room and saw Mabel’s knitting sitting on the couch where she had left it, a completed red sweater with a golden heart on it.
Ford smiled mournfully and held the sweater as Stan joined him and gasped at the sweater. The big brother held it out to the little brother and croaked, “We’ll see her again.”
Stan smiled, cleared his throat, and took off his hoodie and snagged the new sweater to slip it over his old white t-shirt. “Yeah.”
~~~~~~~~~~
July 22nd, 1980
Ford held the lantern up to better read the writing in the cave. He peered at it and was intrigued by a description of a being with answers. It would be summoned if he read out-loud, and though there were many clear warnings against this, the desperate scientist was extremely tempted.
“Sixer! Let’s move before we get caved in or some shit.” Stan called as he walked up to Ford. “What are you reading, cavemen graffiti?”
“Look, Stanley, there are tales of an all-knowing being with answers. It could help me with my theory…”
“Nope.” Stan grabbed Ford by the collar of his trenchcoat and dragged him away like dragging a child out of a toy store.
“Stanley! Let me go!”
“That shit’s got bad voodoo written all over it! You’ve gotta be inhaling toxic cave gas or something to think summoning a demon is a good idea!”
“We don’t know it’s a demon.”
“Really? Then why does that wall read in old blood ‘Do not summon demon!’?”
“Huh. Well, um…”
“That’s what I thought, now don’t make me pick you up and carry you. Let’s move.” And he lightly shoved Ford forward to lead the walk away from the cave and through the tunnels for sunlight.
~~~~~~~~~~
Alex’s wedding was wonderful and a joyous day, but it also made Ford and Stan nervous. They both agreed not to say a word to anyone (as far as Fiddleford knew, Ford had found the girl’s parents and all was over and ended well), and white they were happy to be one step closer to meeting the kids, they were slightly worried that something might be different than Mabel’s timeline.
She never told them her mother’s name. Did Alex marry someone else? Did they marry at the correct time? There was no way of telling, and they both agreed to allow themselves to enjoy the day and maybe drink a little. Or a lot. 
~~~~~~~~~~
When Shermie called and told them that Alex and Dana were going to have a baby, Ford choked on his coffee and Stan dropped the phone. They silently exchanged looks and were terrified that there was only one baby. But it was seven months before the end of August, so maybe the new parents were choosing to keep everything a surprise. Knowing Alex, that is something he would do, especially if there were twins. A beautiful surprise for his twin uncles.
So they congratulated Shermie and made him swear to call them if anything happened so they could be there. And despite their fear, they were very joyous of becoming grunkles again.
~~~~~~~~~~
August 31st, 1999
The entire week leading up to the day, the men were incredibly anxious. The birthday was on 31st, which meant Dipper and Mabel could be born at 1am on the 31st, or 11pm on the 31st. They had no way of knowing, but as long as that damn telephone stayed silent, they weren't leaving the house all weekend. Neither of them slept the night of the 30th, just in case.
Finally, a little after coffee on the 31st, the phone rang. Both Ford and Stan tackled each other and fought for it, but Stan sat on Ford and grabbed it first.
“Stanley, get off me!”
“Stanley, what are you doing to your brother?” Shermie chuckled on the other end.
“Nevermind that, Sherm!” Stan laughed. “What’s going on with you?” He asked casually, though he smiled down at Ford, who smiled back, despite still being sat on in the kitchen.
“Well, you guys know I’m gonna be a grandpa soon…”
“Really? Had no idea.” Stan said sarcastically as he stood up to get off Ford. “So? Is it happening now?!” Ford ran down the hall.
Shermie laughed. “Yup. I just got here myself and Alex and Dana got here about twenty minutes ago.”
“Piedmont Hospital, right?”
“Right.”
“We’ll be there in six hours.”
“It’s an eight hour drive!”
“I said six hours!”
“STANL-” But Stan hung up the phone.
Stan hurried up to his attic bedroom and dressed in his baby-blue Hawaiian shirt and slacks, while also grabbing a suitcase he’s had ready all week, prepared to stay as long as Alex and Dana needed him.
He ran back downstairs with suitcase in hand, with Ford by the door, and they sprinted into the Stanmobile and drove down the road.
~~~~~~~~~~
Shermie was waiting for them in the hall, beaming with joy, and his little brothers ran to him for a tackle-hug.
“Good to see you, Grandpa!”
“Congratulations, Shermie!”
“Thank you, thank you!”
“Did we miss it?!” Stan asked. “Has it happened yet?!”
Shermie grinned and nodded. “Yes, everyone is safe and fine.” And he opened the door.
The aged explorers beamed (and no, they weren’t crying) to find Alex holding one baby and Dana holding another baby. The eldest pair of twins high-sixed and cheered and then gently approached the little ones, beaming down at them.
It was like they had been holding their breath for twenty years, and now they could finally breathe.
“What are their names?” Ford asked quietly, seeing how each newborn was sleeping soundly.
“This is Mabel,” Alex introduced, giving the bundle to Stan.
“And this is Mason.” Dana said tiredly, giving her son to Ford to hold.
Stan and Ford were a bit concerned with the name change, but one look at the baby boy relaxed them. Of course a name like Dipper was a nickname.
“Matching names, huh?” Stan asked cheekily, cradling Mabel and looking down at her with shining brown eyes.
“We couldn’t help ourselves.” Alex chuckled.
Ford’s eyes were glued to Mason. While of course he had been dying to see Mabel again, he had also been excited to meet his science-loving nephew. He was so cute and small in his polydactyl hands and Ford knew it would take a lot more strength than what he had to let him go.
The author tore his eyes away to see his twin looking down at Mabel with tears in his eyes, holding her close to his heart and trying really hard to hold it together, but his joy and peace was far stronger than any bad habits that stopped him from showing his emotions. Stan lightly kissed Mabel’s cheek and Ford saw his lips barely move, though he didn’t hear what he said. Which was fine by him. Ford smiled back down at Mason, finally content.
No one heard him say it, thank Moses, but Stan couldn’t help himself. He had whispered to his niece as quiet as a mouse, “I’ve missed you, pumpkin.”
And finally, after all these years, the small hole in the boys’ hearts could be filled.
THE END!
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