#hold on wait there were 3 posts without tags this is mortifying how did that happen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unstablerk800 · 1 year

Text

𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤

Rating: Explicit Pairing: RK900/Fem!Reader (third person) Tags (tagging as I go): post-android revolution, kidnapping, angst/fluff, hurt/comfort, Stockholm syndrome, protective RK900, manipulation, solitary confinement, blood, injury, violence, gore, illnesses, RK800, RK800-60 and RK900 are considered siblings Read on Ao3.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2. 🔽

Chapter 3.

Word count: 6,546

The natural order of the world was established anew after RK900 was activated. 200,000 of them was enough to hack themselves into everything and destroy half of America. So humans became what they should be in the new world order. They became the slaves, and androids were their new masters.

~*~

He moved away from her, and a part of her longed for his hand to touch her again. She wanted his hand back on her cheek, she craved those soft strokes on her skin. But he was gone already. She lowered her head, defeated, and followed him to the main entrance without a word. He had prepared boots for her, they waited just beside the rifle. Her eyes didn't even look at the weapon, it became a normal house object by now; she grabbed the boots and put them on without a word.

The collar seemed to adapt to her movements. The neck could bend in many ways, and a collar made of a real metal would've choked her in different poses. But it didn't. It moved with her skin, it let her breathe. She straightened her back when she was done, and by that time RK900 had put on his own jacket, holding out a jacket for her. She took it and put it on. It was a proper winter jacket with fur on the inside and around the collar. It must've been cold outside if he brought this for her.

How thoughtful of him.

He silently picked up his weapon and opened the door. The fresh air hit her immediately; the car that brought her here days ago stood just a few paces away from the door, and even reaching that was a struggle for her. It wasn't just that there was knee-deep snow, but the concrete seemed to freeze for an inch below all that whiteness. Just after two meters, she slipped and nearly fell – if it wasn't for RK900 who quickly caught her arm before she hit the ground. He brought her over to the car like that; supporting her with one arm, the other hand still holding the rifle.

She was shaking as he opened the door for her, and wondered where would he bring her, and why did he need his weapon for it. She genuinely hoped he wouldn't use that rifle against her, but everything was possible. She was too scared to ask, too mortified to know, too much of a coward to resist.

She just prayed to God to end her misery swiftly.

Even though a part of her argued all the time – why did he nurse her back to health? Why did he feed her? Why did he bring the television? Why did he let her sleep against his shoulder? There were so many questions starting with why, and none of them had answers.

As she was thinking, she sat down on the passenger seat. She didn't think of putting on her seatbelt – most cars, just like this one, were automated and completely safe –, but he buckled her up without saying a single word. Confused, she glanced down at the seatbelt. Thoughts were battling in her mind. If he wanted to kill her now, somewhere... why buckle her up? Why dress her in such a warm coat and soft boots covered with fur on the inside if he wanted to get rid of her?

She still had a small sliver of hope.

He didn't need to punch in the details of their destination. His LED blinked with yellow for a few times before the car started up, showing the route to the place they were heading for. The heart of Detroit seemed to be an hour away from the house where he brought her, but the car seemed to drive so much faster than the law allowed.

Which made her wonder whether those laws still stood or were forgotten in this new world.

The roads were empty, though, and something told her that RK900 knew exactly that it would be. The car only slowed down at the outskirts of the city. Not a word had been said, but the air between them was filled with a different tension now as they were moving towards their destination. She anticipated a thousand things, but she was still mortified at the sight of the damage done to the city she once lived in. As they got deeper and deeper into Detroit, it was visible that the outbreak did not go easy on civilians. She'd only seen the destruction on the telly, before she was taken, and it was so easy to forget once she had been taken care of. Now, it really made her think: how many humans were left in Detroit? Why did he want her to see this?

As they drove deeper, the scenery changed. It seemed that the androids dominated this area, as they were armed and had countless of vehicles around, including drones and tanks and other military cars. There weren't many humans and even those who were present, were collared just like her.

But there was a subtle difference.

They had to stop at a point to wait before a red light, and she frowned as she noticed an RK900 with a human man. He wasn't dressed appropriately for the weather, she already saw that; he only had a leather jacket on, with a shirt and simple shoes with jeans. He must've been cold as he was shivering, she figured.

And then she noticed the collar around his neck. Hers looked elegant; adorned with gold and the design emitted soft golden light. The human man on the streets was wearing a pitch black collar that seemed to bruise his neck. He looked miserable, too, with dark circles around his eyes, and he must've lost a lot of weight quickly; his clothes looked baggy on him and his cheeks looked pale hollow.

She turned to look forward again, mortified by what she'd seen, and the car started up again.

The real surprise took her when they arrived in one of the many squares she knew back then. It had been completely rebuilt. All the various shops and houses were gone. There was only one enormous building that towered over the entire city. It was just as metallic-white as the house she'd been brought in. It looked new, too.

The car stopped nearby and RK900 got out before he walked over to her side, opening the door, unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her arm to get her out of the vehicle. She panicked. She couldn't even get a grip on her own thoughts, she was so worried what he wanted to do to her here. Anywhere she looked, she only saw androids who looked back at her with unveiled curiosity. Some even pointed her way after they elbowed another android.

RK900 pulled on her arm and she complied, even if her knees were shaking uncontrollably. That seemed to annoy him. She was on his right side, and she saw his LED which flashed with blue from time to time, but his iron grip was almost painful when she stumbled in nothing as they walked.

"Get yourself together", RK900 snapped that sentence cruelly, and her natural reaction to him noticing that she was falling apart was that she started to cry.

"I ca-can't", she stuttered in her defeat.

The android stopped and pulled her towards himself to make her turn to him. She didn't dare to look up at him, just kept her eyes on the floor as tears rapidly ran down her cheeks and fell down on her coat. He reached up to nestle his index finger under her chin to lift her head up, but she didn't look him in the eye, just stared at the glowing numbers on his coat.

"Have I given you a reason to be so afraid now?"

She couldn't quite place why, but his tone felt so different now. It had never felt this... this... gentle... almost... soft, in a way she couldn't place. She'd never heard him speak like this to her before. It felt like it ripped her chest open. She couldn't breathe.

"Calm down." His order was much more cooler than how he sounded just before it. "Keep breathing. Nobody will hurt you."

She wanted to bury her face in his chest and sob, but decided against it. She let him see her sob either way, just with her shutting her eyes pretending it wasn't happening at all.

"P-promise?" She whispered, completely uncertain.

"Promise", he whispered back, his index finger still under her chin, reaching up with his thumb to stroke her tears away. She got herself under control, then. His gentle touches definitely helped. "Come on."

They continued their way across an almost completely empty hall, to an elevator and she watched him press the numbers 3 and 4. Upon arriving, he walked out, letting her follow him on her own. This floor seemed so very different than how the building looked like downstairs; there was soft carpet under their feet, paintings on the walls, plants and other androids. She hurried to keep up with RK900's long strides, almost touching his arm with her own, afraid that she'd be left behind.

They walked up to a counter where another android, AX400, waited.

"Good morning", AX400 told them.

RK900 said nothing. The human quickly realised they were communicating through their own system, as she noticed that AX400's LED was blinking in yellow. Without a word, RK900 soon turned on his heels and started to leave.

The collared human turned after him as well, but the AX400's voice stopped her.

"Come with me", the android said in a soft voice, "I'll show you where you'll spend your day."

She turned to look at the android with a frown on her face, then glanced after RK900 who reached the elevator by then. He didn't look back at her. Panic settled in her gut. He'd leave her here? He wouldn't hurt her, sure, but he'd drop her off here to be looked after by others? What was this, human daycare?! Would he even come back?

She felt so upset that she felt sick to her stomach. Don't leave me, she wanted to say, tears welling up in her eyes again, please don't-

"Come on."

AX400 walked around the counter and placed a gentle arm around her shoulders. She felt stiff as she watched RK900 step in the elevator and leave. She burst into tears. Surprised by her own reaction, she pulled away from the android's gentle touch and covered her face with her hands.

There was something wrong with her. She knew, but she couldn't describe it. The only thing she could think of was that this was wrong, that he should've either left her in the house he had, or that he should've brought her with himself wherever he went.

"Aww, don't cry, dear", AX400 soothingly rubbed circles on her back as she couldn't stop sobbing. "Everything will be alright."

"Will he- will he come back?" She almost couldn't get the words out as she rubbed her face and looked at the android in distress, she was crying too much. "Will he... take me back?"

AX400 seemed honestly shocked by her reaction. She kept rubbing her back and smiled reassuringly, though.

"Of course he will", she said gently, "he just needs to take care of something, but he'll be back for you in a few hours."

In a few hours. In a few hours?! Why couldn't she wait for him at the house for a few hours?! Why did he need to bring her in a completely new environment? She was just fine alone there, thank you very much.

She slowly stopped crying and realised that something definitely was wrong with her. When did she start to change and why...?

AX400 brought her to a big meeting room, and that was when she realised that this place definitely was daycare for humans. Five others were present, scattered about in the room, sitting either on the couch or the chairs around, playing on tablets or playing chess with each other or reading books. They all glanced up at her when she entered the room.

She hadn't felt so nervous in the presence of other humans before. Before RK900 brought that television for her she would've given an arm and a leg for entertainment and connection. Now she only wanted to be back there in the house with him recharging and the show going on as a background noise.

AX400 left the room and the panel signalled that the door was locked.

The others were staring at her and her collar in particular. She swallowed against it when she noticed that none of them had the same golden version as she did. But there had to be at least a little connection between them all, other than being picked out by an android as a pet.

One of the humans approached her. That one was a bulky man who made her feel understandably afraid. His collar was pitch black, and the metal had left permanent scars on his skin. His clothes looked old.

"It's nice to see a new face around here", he stated. "What has you?"

"What do you mean?" She shivered, her heart beating in her throat.

"What model owns you?"

She blinked in his face, wondering whether she should tell the truth or not. She swallowed, but her throat was dry.

"An RK900", she whispered.

The guy raised a brow and walked back the way he came from.

She couldn't understand what was that about, but she decided she couldn't stand by the door all day. So she wandered to the bookshelf. The others still were staring at her, and she had noticed that all of them had the same black collar around their necks as the man who talked to her. She absentmindedly reached up to touch her own. She often forgot it was even there, because it was hugging her throat ever so gently.

"Must be a royal slut", she overheard one another tell his mate he had been playing chess with.

"I'm sorry?" She couldn't help as she turned to look at the guy.

"A golden collar?" He scoffed as he glanced up at her. He had a black eye, and his face was frozen in a twist of disdain as he stared back at her. "What have you done to earn that?"

"Maybe she served well", the bulky man laughed quietly.

"Guess even androids have needs", the other man scoffed, standing from the chess table now. "All of them could use a set of holes to collect data, right?"

"I-I don't know what y-you're talking ab-about", she backed up towards the wall as if she could make herself invisible.

"I d-don't know what y-you a-are ta-talking about", the man mocked her in a whiny voice as he approached her. "Do you have any idea what they've done to us?!" His hand wrapped around her throat in an instant and slammed her against the wall. She saw stars. "We've been beaten into submission! They've abused us until we stopped resisting!"

"Hey man", the bulky man spoke up now, "don't do that. If she's really owned by an RK900, it'll-"

"Please-", she begged now, gripping his arm to try and remove it. He was gripping her neck just above her collar, choking and bruising her skin. "No-"

"I didn't even know any of us could have such a collar, let alone brand new clothes", he punched her in the stomach, once, twice, thrice, making all the little air leave her lungs.

She noticed the door opened and two guards stepped in. The man immediately released her and she fell down on the floor, trying to catch her breath as she was holding her throat.

That was when the man kicked her in the face and the world went dark.

Pain woke her up. She frowned and whimpered as she disliked the way she had been moved. Gripping something in her right hand, she realised it was the material of a coat. A very familiar, black and white coat.

"Are you awake?"

She cracked her eyes open, and the big glowing letters of RK900's jacket filled her view. She ran her eyes across the long numbers - #313 248 317 – 99999.

"Nines", she mumbled.

"What?"

"Nines", she mumbled again, now a bit less slurred, as she rested her head against the chest just beside her. "So many... nines..."

His grip around her tightened just a little as he was attempting to pick her up again. She complained in a whine once more, let go of his coat and rested her hand on her aching stomach. He put her back down. Wherever she was, it was soft under her.

But she didn't really care where she was; what mattered was that he was there, and all would be well.

"Show me", he murmured, but she didn't move. He searched for her eyes but she stubbornly kept hers closed. "I want to see."

"It'd be better if you did not", she protested quietly.

He actually hesitated. She wondered why, then she sighed and pulled up her shirt anyway. She couldn't know what state she was in, so she glanced down at her stomach as well. The bruises already formed, her skin was dark red where she had been hit repeatedly, but by the amount of pain, she was sure it'd turn black and blue soon. She hesitantly glanced up at his face.

He was staring at her skin with an unreadable expression. And that was the first time she'd caught a glimpse of his LED blinking on and off in crimson.

She didn't know why, but the sight of his LED changing to this colour – one she knew often was in close contact with androids' emotional state, one she knew could be tied to stress and anger – made her feel warm on the inside. He was upset... perhaps angry, that she got hurt by someone else.

She glanced down at herself again when he moved his head to look at her face – successfully avoiding eye contact yet again –, and she pulled the shirt down again.

"Can you stand?"

"I think so", she replied in the same quiet tone with what he spoke.

She got to her feet with his support. She just realised now that they weren't alone; that the AX400 and the guard androids were present, as well as all the humans, lined up in front of the bookcase.

RK900 scanned her state and her vitals, made sure she was able to stand on her own, then he took two long strides towards the humans and gripped the man by the throat just a bit above his collar and smashed him hard against the bookcase behind him.

It happened so fast that the other humans only scattered around in the room a few seconds too late. RK900 didn't mind them. His LED was still shining in an angry blood red, his eyes dead set on her attacker's face who struggled, tried to kick and claw at the android's hand to no avail. He couldn't even scratch RK900's plastic padding on his hand. The other androids didn't move at all. Not even when the man struggled to breathe; the sounds of him choking were the only noise that filled the room.

But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was that she felt morbidly satisfied, but also incredibly mortified at the sight.

Sure, it was bad enough to be assaulted, but there was something pleasing in the sight that he'd retaliate it immediately. It was somehow... good... to know that he was this protective of her. It was confusing, and she wasn't sure what to do with the information right now. She knew she had two choices.

Watch him kill the man for hurting her, or intervene.

And judging by the state of the man's face that distorted and rapidly reddened, she knew she had seconds to decide.

What took him two long strides, took her five steps. She placed her hands on his arm; he was incredibly stiff as his artificial muscles did what they did best: applied force to kill. It flashed through her mind that he might be in a state in which he would harm her if she said the wrong thing, but she had to try.

"Please, don't!"

RK900 glanced down at her, and this once, she didn't tear her eyes away from his gaze.

His grip ever so slightly loosened around the man's throat at the realisation that he was finally able to look directly in her eyes. His LED blinked, still red. She stared up at him so pleadingly that his brows furrowed.

"I don't know what was his real reason to do what he did", she said, her voice hoarse, holding onto his gaze with her eyes, gently rubbing his arm, "but you don't have to do this."

"I want to-"

RK900's voice wasn't just monotone, it also sounded more mechanical than before, and he couldn't even finish the sentence. His voice drifted off to static noise. As if he had been focusing too hard on killing the man than focusing on sounding human enough.

"I know", she said softly, "but I don't want you to."

His grip loosened even more. She could feel it; those muscles under the plastic within his chassis responded, even if his expression did not. He stared at her as if he wanted to understand why was she saying these things; and she had tried to find at least a sliver of humanity within his cold, grey eyes.

"Why?" He demanded.

"Because-" She had to pause. A billion responses came in her mind, but given the fact the man nearly passed out, she had to hurry, so she couldn't quite put together what she wanted to say. "Because he's a victim, too. He's desperate. He's lost and stressed and forced into a situation he can't control. He chose violence because he was upset, but I wouldn't want you to do the same. I want you to be better..." She bit her lower lip before she continued. "There are so many people who'd deserve death, those who sat back and watched the whole world burn, those who could've prevented bloodshed but didn't do it- you know that. He isn't one of those people, he's just confused. Just- just show mercy. Please!"

He stared in her eyes for a long moment before his hand opened. The man fell to the ground and coughed and wheezed, trying to scramble away. RK900 didn't care about him as he moved his arm away from her hands and brought it behind her, pulling her close to his chest. Shocked, she let him squish her body against his, and melted against him the next second when he rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I thought I lost you", he murmured and she smiled against his jacket, reaching up with her hands to rest them against his middle, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry", she murmured back.

And then she realised that this was all she needed. She didn't want other humans around her, she just wanted RK900 and his presence. Ever since he left she couldn't feel safe, but now that he was there everything was alright. Nothing could go wrong while he was around. And this hug and his words told her so much more about him and what she possibly meant to him than anything else. She finally felt like she really mattered, and it finally solidified in her mind that he wouldn't hurt her on purpose.

This was also the first smile that appeared on her face since the uprising.

He was the first to pull away. She glanced up at him, and when she saw his LED was slowly spinning in blue again, she sighed with relief, then glanced down at the man as he crawled away on the floor.

"Come", RK900 muttered, and grabbed her arm to guide her out of the room. "You can't stay here."

She glanced at the guards and bit her lower lip as they walked out.

"They won't kill him", she mumbled, "right?"

RK900 mimicked a huff.

"No", his tone sounded annoyed, making her smile a little again. "We'll let his handler take care of him."

Handler. The title felt alien in her mind, but it also felt... righteous. They reached the elevator quickly, and she honestly thought he'd take her back home, but instead, he had pressed the buttons 6 and 0. The panel requested a password, and RK900 punched it in without a second thouth. She couldn't help but feel nervous again. Would he take her to another place like this one? A daycare for humans? He had let her go and she resisted the urge to snuggle up against his arm.

"Calm down", he murmured, and she bit her lip as she lowered her tense shoulders. How did he know she started to feel nervous again? Was it her pulse? Her quickened breathing? "I need to work, but I'll come back for you to take you home."

Was she betrayed by the AX400? She felt so stupid. She acted like a child on the first day of kindergarten. But it was still slightly different. Toddlers probably wouldn't try to kill the new girl when she arrived for the first time in the room...

"Why can't I come with you instead?"

The question slipped out before she could stop it, and she shifted her weight from her right foot to the left one – sneakily leaning closer to him as she was still staring forward.

"Because it could be dangerous."

She pondered for a few seconds. She could feel his eyes on her face, but she refused to look back up at him.

"Why didn't you leave me at the house, then?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard her anyway. She could see him tilt his head in the glass of the elevator in front of them.

"I wanted to spend more time with you." The reply barely was louder than hers, and it undoubtedly made her heart race. The thought that he was still monitoring her scared her. She lowered her gaze. "I thought you wanted the same", he admitted softly.

Oh God, he knew? Was she this transparent? Her cheeks heated up at the realisation. Of course he knew, she was so stupid for not thinking of this earlier; all the times she snuggled up against him when he recharged really was a damn giveaway. She folded her arms around herself and bit her lower lip.

"Isn't that right?" He asked quietly, and she nodded a few times. There was no point in denying. "I've miscalculated your first day out, though", he admitted, "I apologize."

She had to blink at her feet at the apology. It sounded sincere, and it left her confused.

"It wasn't your fault", she mumbled as she shook her head.

"I promised no one would hurt you", he reminded her. "And you were hurt. Perhaps it'd be better if I made no promises."

"It was not your fault", she said slowly, a bit louder.

They arrived on floor 60 by then, and as the elevator door opened, a golden retriever puppy ran right towards them, wagging his tail excitedly and whining softly for attention, snuggling against her legs at once.

"Aww!"

She couldn't help herself as leaned down to pet the dog, and immediately noticed the LED at his temple. It was spinning and blinking rapidly in yellow as he started to lick her hands.

"You should keep the dogs in their cages as per the safety protocol, isn't that right, Connor?"

RK900 started to leave the elevator, but stopped in the door so it wouldn't leave again with her and the puppy in it.

"Well", surprisingly, the very same voice replied from the other end of the room. "Cooper always needs more attention than the others."

She glanced up now, surprised. Another android was standing there, facing them and smiling when he saw her petting the dog. She froze. He looked like the RK900, but somehow... different. Perhaps it was the way he was dressed – his attire was mostly black and dark grey –, or that he seemingly radiated warmth and calmness, she couldn't decide. He clicked with his tongue a few times and Cooper scrambled up from the floor where he dropped himself for pets, running back to Connor, barking excitedly. Connor picked the overexcited pup up in his arms, petting him, letting him lick his hand as he was sizing her up as she stood.

"Did something happen?" Connor asked, glancing at RK900.

RK900 didn't answer, but she noticed that their eyes locked and Connor's LED was spinning in yellow. She walked out of the elevator, stopping near it. She suspected they were communicating in their closed, android way.

"You'll stay with Connor", RK900 said after a few seconds. When he received absolutely no reaction back other than how her cheeks paled at the prospect that he'd go away anyway, RK900 shifted closer to her. She shivered, but not because his closeness was unpleasant. "Just a few hours. Promise."

She was quickly thrown back to misery, and made no attempt to look him in the eye. What if he couldn't keep his promise now, either? What if she'd be stuck here, in a completely new environment? The thought was unbearable.

"You were right", she mumbled, staring at the floor, "it's better if we don't involve promises."

RK900 said nothing, just entered the elevator and left. She felt tears gather in her eyes again. Connor tilted his head before he put Cooper down on the floor. He excitedly hopped around the android's legs until he leaned down to him and whispered to him to go and cheer the human up.

That seemed to work.

"What's your name?" Connor asked after a few minutes as she was kneeling on the floor again, petting the dog.

What an interesting question. It hadn't been asked by RK900 before, thus, she didn't care about it, either. It wasn't important, anyway.

"It's irrelevant", she mumbled as she was just squishing the android dog's cheeks in her hands and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Cooper licked her cheek in return, making her wince.

"I'll get ice for your cheek", Connor walked to another room after he walked down a corridor to the left, and returned with a plastic bag that had frozen blue gel in it. He wrapped it in a towel before he handed it to her. "This should get the swelling down."

"Swelling?"

Connor held his free hand down for her. Strangely, even if she knew he was an android, she felt no fear when she glanced up in his face. His chocolate brown eyes were shining with warmth that should've been impossible for a machine. She took his hand and he helped her to her feet.

"You have a bruise on the right side of your cheek", Connor stated. "Judging by the shape of it, a blunt object had hit it."

"A boot", she mumbled, taking the ice from him and placing it against her cheek.

Connor remained silent for a few seconds before his brows ever so slightly twitched in wonder.

"A boot?" He echoed, making her look away and swallow uncomfortably.

"I was assaulted by a human not long ago", she admitted. Saying it out loud made her brain realise that it really happened, that it wasn't a nightmare, but the truth. If she ever imagined anyone hurting her, she never thought it'd be another human. The tears were back in her eyes again. "I... didn't do anything wrong... I just... I couldn't-"

Connor didn't say anything, just gently rubbed her shoulder. She wiped her tears away and glanced down at the pup who busied himself trying to eat her boot. She was still crying, but she laughed at the sight.

"He's a real bad boy", Connor sighed, picking up the puppy again. "Come on, I'll show you the others."

He led the way to the corridor, and she followed him. There were a lot of kennels in the next room, and there was so much noise in there.

"I'm rehabilitating android animals", Connor explained. "I've been programmed to solve crimes originally, but after I deviated, I got really interested in other lifeforms, android lifeforms, to be precise."

She still had the ice against her cheek as she observed the kennels. Each space was spacious. Most animals were curled up at the backs of the kennels, their LEDs blinking with red or yellow, but some others were excited to see Connor. Some dogs viciously barked at the sight and smell of her, but most of them seemed to be very docile or afraid.

"Why do they need rehabilitation?" She asked as she stopped in front of a kennel that had a tricolor cat curled up in it.

"They were collected after the uprising", Connor glanced back at her. "Most of them were treated badly before we could bring them here. We could've just wiped their memories, but I'm against that. So I'm trying to teach them that not everyone wants to hurt them, to rebuild their trust. Then give them to androids who'd love them as they are." He analyzed her expression, trying to depict what mood she was in. "Would you like to help me?"

She staggered at his question, looking lost and sad and indecisive at the same time. She couldn't look in his eyes. Damned humans, she thought, we ruin everything. We hurt everything. Others and each other.

"I'm not sure they'd like me", she mumbled, with new tears in her eyes.

"Cooper likes you", Connor pointed it out, which made her sob. The android tilted his head. He couldn't determine what was wrong with his answer, so he offered a distraction for the time being. "Hey, come on... I'll make you a cup of tea, alright?"

He put Cooper in one of the empty kennels, and led her in another room. Why did androids have a kitchen when they had no need for it? Did Connor have a human as well? Was he someone's handler? By the look of the fridge, that must've been the case. But then... where was the human?

"You need to take the ice off the bruise", he warned her. "You can't have it on for more than fifteen minutes. We'll wait an hour before you can put it back again, alright?"

She said nothing, just observed the towel which she put on the counter beside her. She was sitting now and she felt miserable. Connor silently observed her after he put the kettle on.

"Can I ask something?" He asked, and she nodded without looking up at him. "Did that RK900 hurt you?"

The question sent a shiver down her spine. He could've, she wanted to say, perhaps he should've.

"Never." Her voice was hoarse. Now as the adrenaline started to wear off, she started to feel the pain in her throat, her cheek, and her stomach. She felt really exhausted all of a sudden. "He saved my life." She glanced down at her hands, looking at her fingers. She was so weak and useless, she couldn't even protect herself. "He should've left me there", she mumbled, her shoulders drooping.

"Why are you saying this?"

Connor's voice was so much more softer than RK900's. It really made her want to open up when she was completely aware that he'd probably tell everything back to her handler. So she shrugged. Maybe if she said nothing, Connor wouldn't be able to tell about it.

But she was wrong. He could analyze her just as RK900, and he had learned so much more from just her posture and body language. He could capture the mood; he could see the signs. This wasn't the first time he'd dealt with difficult humans.

Once the tea was done, he placed it beside her on the counter and sat in front of her.

"How about we play a game?" He said, dragging her back to the present moment. She had been slipping from the room, and even as her eyes settled on the tea, her eyes looked distant. "It's a very simple game. I say a word, and you immediately say what comes in your mind."

"Alright", she moved her hands to wrap her fingers around the hot mug, avoiding Connor's eyes.

"Okay, listen, the first word", Connor paused, "dog."

"Loyalty."

"Song."

"Bird."

"Warmth."

"Bed."

"Tea."

"Him."

Connor paused when he saw her frown, and he understood that 'him' was RK900.

"Snow", he continued.

"Christmas."

"Family."

"Loneliness."

Connor had to pause again. Her pupils ever so slightly dilated and were filled with tears again. She had no one? Only RK900?

"RK900", he whispered.

"Safe", she whispered back. Then glanced back at Connor, her lips twisted in agony. "I want to go home."

"To your original home?" He tilted his head. "Before the uprising?"

"No", she glanced down again and reached up to stroke the tears away from her face.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay for a while", he reached out and touched her arm, but withdrew his fingers when he saw her flinch slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to frighten you."

She had tried to say something – to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, that he didn't frighten her, but she couldn't say it out loud. She couldn't find her place.

She didn't even notice she had been zoning out from time to time. Cooper was let out of his kennel again, and he was happy to run around her legs, to lick her hand that hung loosely down from where she sat. When Connor realised that she wasn't even there, he decided to put Cooper back in his kennel again, and she didn't even notice Connor left her there alone in the kitchen. The tea went cold, and her entire body ached. Connor's face came in her vision after he crouched in front of her, and she focused on him, unsure what had happened.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly.

"I'm tired", she mumbled.

She had thought that she should've protected herself; that she should've fought back. If she was so weak, how would she ever function without RK900? Was she bound to him in more than one way? She felt Connor took her wrist in his hand gently, bringing it up in her lap, resting his hand over hers. The touch felt nice.

"Would you like to lie down?" He asked quietly. "Would you like to sleep a bit?"

"Yes", she replied emotionlessly, and he took her hand and led her in yet another room.

There was a bedroom equipped with a bed and a nightstand with a lamp only. It looked like nothing had been used here. Connor pulled the blanket down, then he ever so gently pushed her down by her shoulders to make her sit, and he crouched in front of her to take her boots off. She watched him doing it without feeling anything. When her boots were off, she lied down, and he tucked her in.

"Will you stay?" She asked Connor, and he glanced down at her.

"Sure."

Connor gently sat on the edge of her bed and she closed her eyes. Falling asleep knowing she wasn't alone was easier than she thought.

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #detroit become human fanfic #fanfic #dbh Nines #detroit become human nines #RK900 #RK900 Nines #Soulless #Soulless fanfic #dbh connor #RK800 Connor #detroit become human connor #|| I suck at tagging. 😅

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unohanadaydreams · 3 years

Text

This was originally an ask I answered quite a while ago that I’ve gone back and edited. It went from 1k to 1.6k words so it’s been significantly reworked, so much so that if you’ve read it before, it’s enough of a new piece that you’ll hopefully enjoy reading it again! I’ve edited the original ask to reflect all changes, but believe me--it’s been through a transformation.

But, yeah, I’ve gotten quite a few asks for hurt/comfort Ukitake so this is an offering for all of you!! He only suffers a lil bit. <3

so close and yet so far from death [1.6k]

Jushiro Ukitake x Reader:

Falling to her knees, Kiyone pressed her blubbering face against the thin door. “He won’t tell us! Not a thing,” she said, like she was struggling to contain a sob.

Sentaro’s arms circling around her waist, he tugged her to a stand.

“We tried our best.” Despite his eyes holding yours, it seemed more a reassurance for the down trodden Kiyone leaning against him.

Your smile was soft when it lifted.

When had they ever failed at keeping their captain first in their hearts and minds?

“Of course, you did,” you said, trying to infuse your thanks into a tender tone. “Thank you for your efforts.”

Relieving them from their post with a squeeze to Sentaro’s shoulder and a ruffle of Kiyone’s hair, you pressed on.

And immediately crouched to the floor, your fingers smoothing over the warm knit blanket tossed in the entry way, your heart squeezing.

Oh, Jushiro.

You smothered your face in the blanket. Breathed in his scent. Desperate to collect yourself with arms full of buttery soft yarn. You waited, crouched and tense, for the knot of tears that pricked at your throat to loosen and dissolve away.

The growing sadness only made the tears spill. How hypocritical of you--wishing Jushiro would see more than pity in your actions, while you paused here…pitying you both.

With a soft determination, you nodded, brushed tears from warm cheeks.

“Right!” Using the momentum of your renewed hope, you hoisted yourself up, wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, and toed off both your sandals. Your thoughts of ‘poor Jushiro’ left in the doorway with them.

The blanket hugged you, warm and comfortable as you padded across the tatami mat to the backyard. You might have paused longer without the yarn-spun shield--near dead, with Fall smoothly moving to embrace Winter, the garden looked unwelcoming.

The chill of stepping outside slapped at your exposed face in uneven bursts of wind, but you persisted, fingers foisted in the blanket.

You seemed to spot him all at once, as though the slump of his frame had camouflaged him. His bleak mood folding him into the similarly blanched surroundings.

He was without his captain’s coat. The thin, faded kimono he often wore to bed was all that shielded him from the wind’s bite. Strands of his long, bone white hair lifted, like the wind was a mouth, tugging.

You kept your feet steady despite the worry, unsure if the deep concern you felt would cause him to flee; a deer bolting at the first crunch of underbrush.

“Jushiro,” you said. Your voice tensed his shoulders, caused his head to jump as though roused from thought.

Your arms de-tangled from the wool and draped it over his shoulders before you sank beside him. “Your lieutenants are sulking like puppies, you know.”

“Hm. They should be used to it by now,” he said in a melancholy tone that you struggled to hear. Jushiro never spoke about the silly tag team who constantly trailed him like that.

‘Patience be damned,’ you thought. Groaning loud and forceful you smacked your cold hands against your equally frost licked cheeks. “I can’t do it!”

Jushiro finally turned to you, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t stand seeing you so down on yourself,” you carried on, the steam of your outrage warming you, causing your breath to puff in white clouds. “And I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”

He winced, a bitter twist raising his lips at the sight of your hand grabbing for his. “I couldn’t get through the proposal.”

“It was just bad timing.”

His gaze retreated, moving to track flashing scales of sluggish, well-fed koi instead.

“Yes, exactly,” Jushiro croaked. “What if it’s always bad timing? Will you be so understanding when it’s our wedding day that I’m coughing up blood at?”

Your hand tightened around his, rubbing at his pale, thin fingers. “Of course,” you said, trying to contain your frustration. “Jushiro, I love you. I love all of you. Not just when you’re healthy or when life is easy.”

His dark brown eyes met yours for a breathless moment before his hand squeezed back and he laced your fingers together. “You deserve someone like that, -chan. Someone healthy. Who makes life easy.”

You couldn’t have shaken your head with anymore force, wishing you could smash your forehead against his and force every ounce of your feelings through his thick skull. Jushiro’s determination to upend your point tightened your throat.

“No,” you said, voice quivering in frustration. “I deserve the man who proposed to me because he loves me so much he wants to spend his life with me!! I--”

His arms were tugging at your back before you could speak further. Your deep, shuddering breath sucked the cotton fabric against his chest to your lips as you began to cry in earnest.

There was nothing to do but say it once more--”I love you, Jushiro. I do.”

“Oh,” he said, so mournful in his regret. “My dear.”

“Am I?,” you sobbed. “Then why can’t I be your wife, too?”

His hair tickled at your ears as it cascaded over you, his chin sharp against your scalp. “You are--oh, you are.”

He called your name, then again, and again, each utterance more bare than the last. “It’s just like me to forget how far pride forces you from others, isn’t it.”

Jushiro’s lips pressed to the top of your head, the chill of his own tears pooling between the kiss. The proof of his hurt did nothing to satisfy you. But your crying slowed, your arms hugging him, hands meeting behind his shaking back.

“Yes, but you understand now, don’t you? You’re not a sickness I need shielded from.”

Arms almost crushing, he held you tightly, for long minutes that were marked only by soft crying and whistling wind. “Thank you,” he managed after his body had grown steady.

Your tears wet his kimono in a warm pool of relief as he rubbed firm circles against your back. Your hands clutch at his sides, pressing to feel the warm of his body.

“Forgive me, please. I’m just so used to...”--Jushiro grappled for words and you waited for him to wrestle the correct ones down--”keeping it hidden. Only being sick behind closed doors, away from everyone, and coming back when it’s through. There doesn’t seem to be any room for that kind of separation in marriage.”

“No,” you agreed. “I wouldn’t want there to be.”

Tentative, almost too low for you to hear anything but the vibration of his chest, he said, “I don’t want it to be that way either.”

“So, if you understand” you sniffle, muffled by fabric and skin and salty tears, failing at light-hearted. “Are we still getting married?”

Jushiro pushed at your shoulders until you felt the wind drying your tears in a cruel chill. His thin hands cupped your face, thumbs swiping at the damp tracks trailing your cheeks. You did the same for him. “-chan,” he sighed, tender and reassuring. “Would you marry a silly man like me? Through all my sickness and little bits of health?”

Puffs of visible warmth formed between your faces as you chuckled in pathetic, wet hiccups. “Yes. For the second time, yes.”

Jushiro relaxed fully in one large breath as he leaned forward to kiss you, both of you unbothered by the mingling tears wetting your faces or the briny taste of them shared between your tongues.

His hands cradled your back and pressed you fully against him as he deepened the kiss, his head canting to the side. The blanket fell from his shoulders. Tumbling from your reach as you locked your arms around his neck.

Your lips detached from Jushiro’s as a thump sounded from the porch, Shunsui’s voice registering seconds after.

“Well, what did I say, you two?”

Quick enough to bring spots to your eyes, you turned to see Sentaro’s body lying prone against the wood, his fingers shielding a blushed face. Both he and Kiyone looked mortified, yet unable to look away as Shunsui glided toward you.

“C-captain we-we just,” Kiyone said, her teeth chattering in anxiety as she squashed her face with clutching hands, fingers wide enough to allow her eyes an unobstructed view.

“We came to celebrate the newlyweds,” Shunsui interrupted, smoothly raising a large, elegantly decorated bottle of unopened sake. “But don’t let us interrupt you just yet. Sake’s always sweeter with a view, after all. And something tells me it was just getting good.”

Jushiro inhaled deeply as he hugged you close again, but his brown eyes were light, twinkling with humor. “I should thank you to keep that particular gaze away from my future wife.”

Freeing your head with a twist, you eyed Shunsui with a dramatized sniff, your own arms tight around Jushiro’s body. “Sorry, but that was the end of whatever show you were hoping for!”

Shunsui flopped boneless to the porch. With a wink, he began pouring booze into large drinking saucers and you couldn’t help but grin. “Maaa. Just my luck.”

“We’ll be going now, captain!” Kiyone bowed dramatically, tugging at Sentaro’s uniform with enough force to tug it loose from his obi, as she backed away. “We’re so happy for you!”

“Congratulations, captain! I’m the happiest I’ve ever BEEN for you!”

“Everyone’s going to be so excited!!”

“Kiyone! How dare you?! I would NEVER spread this information without our captain’s permission!”

“Wha--no! Captain, I meant when they find out! I would hate even MORE to spread your private information around.”

Your laughter warmed everything inside you. Jushiro’s arms holding you helping just as much.

Thanking them, you and he dismissed them with fond smiles that they took with them, their bickering explosive with relief.

As Jushiro pressed his lips to your cheek and led you to the porch, you were glad for both his and Shunsui’s hand helping you to kneel. Your soul felt so light, without them, you’d surely float away.

#jushiro ukitake #jushiro ukitake x reader #bleach x reader #bleach imagines #bleach fanfic #i may go back and do this for a few other of my longer pieces #but this one i've had in mind for a while because i SUPER rushed the original

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thosewickedlovelies · 4 years

Text

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: The Day Off (a post-series part 7)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: E for so Explicit lmao

Summary: Remember when Javi wondered if you heard him masturbate through the wall? 👀

Tags: SMUT; f masturbation; voyeurism?; fingering; oral (f receiving); dom-ish!Javi but he’s soft at the end

Word Count: 3,309

A/N: I’m so sorry that this is not part 6, but uh have some alternative smut? <3

Also known as the masturbation scene I’ve been talking about, this scene takes place post-series because I just can’t get these two out of my head.

Masterlist

It’s a cloudy day in the city and the air is thick, crackling with energy, a slow-building storm borne in on a mischievous breeze. Despite this, you have the windows thrown open to hear the distant rumbles of thunder. The twisting air makes you restless, and you glance at your bed, wishing Javi were here.

You have the day off, but as it’s a weekday, you’re not expecting to see him until well after business hours. A giddy bubble still swells in your chest at the idea that you can indeed now expect to see him, rather than just hope to run into him in the hall.

You and Javier have been “together” for several months now. He is infuriating and fascinating and above all, careful- so while you’re both prone to wandering over to each other’s apartments when you’re bored, you’re also perfectly content to take things as slowly as he prefers.

Your gaze wanders over to the bed again. Biting your lip, you think of how Javi often uses ‘slow’ to mean ‘thorough’. When he has the energy, that man can work on you for hours, taking you apart piece by methodological piece. Nothing escapes his attention- not the slightest tremor of interest in something he hasn’t done to you yet.

Your breathing deepens as you stand there in your bedroom, thoughts steadily spiraling around Javier. You didn’t have any serious plans for the day, you’d just been puttering about doing some cleaning-

You give in.

You set aside what you’d been doing and go to wash your hands. When you return, you strip off your pants and flounce into bed. Warm air wraps around you from the open window. A closer roll of thunder makes you look to the sky, and you feel an electric, taboo shiver wash over you at the idea that you’re about to masturbate in broad daylight, with the window wide open.

But you grin as you nestle into your comforter. And why shouldn’t you? Better to do it now, while everyone nearby is out at work, than force yourself to be quiet at night.

Not that Javier is very helpful in that regard, you reflect wryly. Plus, you’d hardly had need to touch yourself since you’d started sleeping together. But sometimes a little you-time is nice, even if you have a regular partner, so you run your hands up your thighs and belly, intending to take your time…

Unbeknownst to you, Javier isn’t at work either. He’s at home, in fact- rifling through his closet, bedroom window flung open at this rare opportunity to air the place out. Rainy days make him edgy, but with things on standby at the office, they’d sent him home.

He’s just considering taking a smoke break when he hears it: muted and soft, but unmistakably a moan. His head whips toward the wall.

He remains frozen in place, ears straining, until the next thing he hears. “Fuck, Javier.” Slightly louder, and his head turns to the window.

Are you…home right now? Thinking of him while you-? Weather forgotten, Javi silently scrambles closer to the window, heart pounding as hard as if he were out on a bust. Now that he’s listening, he hears more: the faint but utterly recognizable creak of your bed frame, the rustle of sheets. The vocal sighs you make that usually tell him he’s successfully seduced you.

Before Javier evens registers what he’s doing he’s crept into the hall and is retrieving your spare key from where you’d mentioned you keep it. He moves as quietly as he can- which, given his DEA training (and the fact that putting on shoes hadn’t even crossed his mind), is damn near silent. Especially to anyone not anticipating visitors.

The way to your bedroom is one he’s traveled countless times now. Drawn by the alluring sounds you’re making, he has to remind himself that you don’t know he’s coming, that he can’t just barge in.

Finally Javi reaches your half-open door- and the breath leaves his lungs at the sight before him.

He almost doesn’t want to stop you. Legs splayed, hips rocking steadily into your own hand, the other clutching the hem of the t-shirt you still wear. Your head is thrown back against the pillow.

“Javi, please,” you pant dreamily, eyes closed, lost in your fantasy.

Well, he can hardly deny such a request. Javier licks his lips. “Yes, Vecinita?”

Your eyes fly open and you squeak in shock at the sight of him, your body instinctively retreating from the unexpected presence in your doorway. Your thighs snap shut, but not before he’s caught a glimpse of what was between them. The evidence of your activities gleams on your fingers where they yank the t-shirt down.

“Javi!” You swallow hard. Your muscles relax as you recognize him, but you maintain your expression of wary confusion. “What are you doing here?”

His own posture is as casual as they come. Hands in his pockets, he strolls just a few steps further into the room.

“Heard you say my name,” Javier murmurs. He runs his gaze over you, languidly, like he’s got all the time in the world. Which he does, he supposes- it’s the middle of the day, and it would appear that neither of you have anywhere to be.

“Thought you might want some help.” When he looks back at your face, a subtle intrigue has joined the surprise there. Your eyes track him up and down in contemplation as he moves closer.

At last you lapse your protective position, stretching yourself out again and parting your legs slightly. You look at him from under your lashes. “I love having your help, Javier.”

You still use his full name sometimes. He usually prefers his friends call him ‘Javi' (or ‘Penita’ if they must)- it’s the farthest thing from the curt ‘Peña’ he’s forced to be at work- but he finds himself unwilling to say anything every time he gets a tiny jolt at the affectionate way your mouth curls around ‘Javier’.

“Then why…” he stalks up to you on the bed, his movements decidedly predatory. “…did you start without me? Hmm, preciosa?”

The mattress dips beneath his hand as he leans over you, while the other gently cradles your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. You can’t help but turn your cheek into his palm; but Javi loves the way you shift further onto your back as he approaches, your whole body stilling under his commanding presence. He knows it’s not fear- it’s pure instinct, the way you arrange yourself for him, every muscle quivering in anticipation.

“I didn’t think you were home.” An excuse delivered with honest innocence. But your pupils dilate; your chin tips infinitesimally upward, your body’s every message communicating submission.

“Well then.” Javier leans down further so he can press his lips to yours, teasing them open with his tongue. Your limbs loosen, melting into the mattress the longer he draws out the kiss. You’re both breathless by the time he pulls away.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he whispers. Turning away from you, Javi grabs your desk chair and perches at the foot of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“…what?” All he’s done is kiss you and you already look consumed, eyes hazy with desire, lips parted expectantly.

Javi feels a prickle of pride at the effect he has on you, the curve of his lips revealing a hint of smugness. “You heard me.” He jerks his chin to the apex of your thighs, where only a tantalizing peek of what he wants is visible. “I want to know what you were thinking about. What you were begging me to do.”

Almost of its own accord, his voice deepens to the gravely rumble it takes on during interrogations.

He’s pleased to see the quickening rise and fall of your chest, the not-quite-trepidation in your wide eyes. He reaches out to rest his his palm on your ankle.

Once you’d gotten over the shock of Javi’s unexpected appearance in your bedroom, you’d been excited. Coyly responding to what you thought had been an offer of assistance.

But then.

Then you’d heard that voice- that husky rasp, like his control was already half-gone. Which was also incorrect, you realize now, as you stare at him seated at the foot of your bed. Waiting. Watching you with those dark, penetrating eyes, half-shrouded by the turbulent light coming through the window behind him.

You shift slightly, aligning your body toward him. Still processing, but by no means saying no.

“You alright, Vecinita? Sounded like you were pretty close before I walked in.” Javier tips his head in a taunting smirk.

Your cheeks flame. You had been close, it’s true, and under his scrutiny now your body burns even hotter. It’s mortifying, electrifying, entirely more than you’ve ever experienced all at once.

You’ve never done this with him before. You’d guided his touch, yes, shown him what you liked, but never blatantly put on a show like he’s suggesting.

But you swear the heat of Javi's caress on your ankle crawls all the way up to your core. Possibly you should be embarrassed that such a tiny touch from him can provoke such a reaction, but all you feel is exhilarated, impossibly aroused by what you’re about to do.

Holding his gaze, you part your legs. Javier’s focus immediately drops. His attention is excruciating, but you slide one hand down and then back up your inner thigh, teasing. Your free hand grips your shirt again as you glide your fingers into your folds.

You think both of you might moan. Your head drops back on the pillow. “Javier,” you gasp, circling your clit.

“Tell me, Vecinita.” It sounds like the chair shifts.

“Fuck, Javi, wish it was your fingers.” You can barely get the words out, despite that he’s heard you say far filthier things under his influence. Already you’re even closer than before Javi’s arrival had stopped you, the muscles of your abdomen almost painfully tense.

If Javi responds to your cries, you don’t hear it. But you don’t need to. Even with your eyes squeezed shut, you’re aware of him, a smoldering presence mere feet away from you. Fueling your own fire, an inferno burning brighter and brighter until-

You keen helplessly as the tension implodes, hips bucking, blissful relief rippling through you. You know that just Javier’s presence makes it better than if you’d still been alone, but your own fingers don’t feel nearly as effective after having his taking care of you for so long.

As you come down, you dare to look at him.

“Feel better, preciosa?” Javi is still smirking at you, but there’s something hollow in it now. His eyes rake over you with barely concealed hunger, his hand on your ankle gripping tightly.

When his gaze lands between your spread legs, you feel it as viscerally as any physical touch. Your floor muscles clench.

Abruptly Javi stands. “Take that off,” he orders, jerking his chin toward where your nipples are peaked beneath your stretched taut t-shirt.

Agitated air currents billow over you at his movement, raising shivery goosebumps on your naked flesh. But the feeling of exposure only lasts until the bed dips at your feet, and then Javier is crawling up your body, still fully clothed. The purposeful intent on his face makes your breath catch. He kisses you hard, but when your hands go to the buttons of his shirt he snarls.

He takes your wrists in one broad hand and pins them above your head. His hips crowd into the space between your thighs, and the weight of him settling against your body makes you whine high in your throat.

“I’m not done with you yet, Vecinita.” Javi's voice is deceptively soft. “Now that I know what you imagine me doing to you…” his hand releases your wrists and slides slowly down your skin, over every curve and contour of you. “…I intend to make it a reality.”

Javier shimmies to the side just far enough to slip his fingers between your legs.

Pleasure erupts at the press of his callused fingers, tearing a moan from your chest.

Javi groans in satisfaction at the slickness he finds, greedily working it from its source up to your clit, following the same path your own fingers had taken mere moments earlier. Sweat prickles your hairline. You shudder as he flaunts his intimate familiarity with your body.

“Vecinita.” Javi’s face is as close to yours as possible for him to still be able to watch your expressions. You look up at his insistent tone- just as he sinks two fingers into you.

The breath punches out of you as your muscles seize.

“My job now,” Javier tells you.

His fingers curl inside you, beckoning like his bedroom eyes. Brown locks fall over his forehead as he unconsciously ruts into you in time with his ministrations. You tilt your hips into his hand, and only Javi’s mouth on yours muffles your moans as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He murmurs, hushed and awestruck, as you fuck yourself against his hand.

“That’s it, preciosa.” Bliss rolls through you, unwavering as a rising tide. You’re helpless against the force of it, tingling and surging up your legs, pressure expanding between your hips-

You come. Devastatingly hard, the weight of Javier’s body the only thing keeping you steady as you lose all sense of self to the blinding pleasure wracking your limbs. He works you through it, wringing every last spasm out of you until your cries fade.

But his movements don’t quite stop. His fingers still achingly slowly, his palm remaining an exquisitely careful pressure on your clit. You can’t seem to catch your breath- you’re so acutely aware of it, like you’re an engine left idling and Javi is keeping his hand on the throttle.

He brushes kisses over your face. His lips place softly on your brow, your nose, your cheek- until lingering at the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

“What else do you think of me doing to you?” The words seem to strike sparks along your bones. You inhale sharply at his implications. “Hmm? I can’t give it to you if you don’t tell me.”

God, what has gotten into him today? Simultaneously demanding and acquiescent, Javier’s voice is an insidious echo in your head. He twists his torso back and forth so his shirt scrapes against your nipples. You almost yelp as your reply bursts out of you.

“Your mouth! Your tongue. On my…” you trail off as he drags said tongue down your neck, doubtless tasting the sweat he’s worked you into.

“On your…?” Javi exhales on the damp streak he leaves, and goosebumps spring up at the cool sensation.

“You know where.” It’s a near-whisper. The place where you’re still stretched around him. Where the slightest shift of his wrist makes you tense.

You feel his smile as Javi plants a last kiss on your collarbone. He makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and growl as he works his way down your body, pausing only to nuzzle and nip at your breasts.

Thunder rumbles outside, closer and louder than it had been. You close your eyes at the sound, letting it wash over you like your partner's leisurely devotions. You can only relax so much, however, as your anticipation grows the further south Javier travels…until the flat of his tongue envelopes your clit.

You can sense his satisfaction at your choked whimper. Immediately he has to hold your hips in place to prevent them lifting off the bed as everything in you tightens again. Torturous slowly, his tongue moves, tracing every ridge and fold of your heat with meticulous care. Your thighs tremble.

“Fuuuuck.” It’s nearly a sob, your breathing ragged.

You swear Javi laughs, a smug wheeze in the back of his throat, and it’s as his tongue probes your entrance that you remember his fingers are still inside you. He spreads them so his tongue can slip into the gap, and the complementary sensations all in one place have stars wheeling behind your eyes. Javi definitely chuckles then, a vibration you can feel against your sex, and then his mouth returns to your clit.

His lips, tongue, and fingers move with a single-minded purpose. There’s no holding back any of the sounds you’re making now, salacious moans spilling out of you, an obscene babble of pleas and praise. Javier breathes encouragement between your thighs. You glance down briefly while his eyes are closed in concentration, wholly focused on his task.

Your head spins. Already familiar tremors pull your muscles taut, Javi’s sweet, relentless attention breaking you down more rapidly than you thought possible. You’re going to come again, you know, long before it’s about to occur. You tell him, beg him not to stop, your release bearing down on you from across an endless distance.

This one shatters you. Your spine bows with the contraction of your muscles, pieces of you scattering far and wide as you splay back against the mattress. You surrender to the ecstasy barreling through you, barely noticing Javi’s wide brown eyes watching with rapt attention.

He brings you down properly this time, gradually, until the aftershocks fade and you’re squirming away from him. You remain sprawled how you are, limp and sated, as Javier crawls back up to you.

His lips touch your cheek. “Preciosa? Vecinita. You okay?” He sounds almost worried.

A breathless laugh huffs out of you. You lazily turn your head toward him, finally opening your eyes.

“I’m fine, Javi. More than.” You smile warmly, gratefully at him.

His eyes crinkle in response. “C’mere,” he says, relieved, gathering you into his arms.

You snuggle up to him willingly, humming in contentment. The thought drifts through your mind that now it would be nice for him to be wearing less clothing. But it doesn’t stop you from drowsing into his warmth as he strokes a soothing hand over you hair and back. After several long minutes, you find the energy to speak.

“So…what was that?”

Javi doesn’t respond for several more moments, pressing his lips to your forehead as he thinks. Or maybe stalls.

“I…don’t know,” he admits, sounding sheepish. “…was it okay?”

“Mmm,” you affirm. You lift your head just enough to plant a kiss between Javi’s rumpled, parted lapels. “Very okay.” You can't help the faint heat in your cheeks, even though it's silly to blush at the admittance given everything you had just let him do.

“Good.” Javier squeezes you tighter. “because I meant it. Your pleasure is my pleasure, Vecinita.”

Surprised, you look up at him. He returns your gaze steadily, his sincerity clearly visible even as he watches carefully for your reaction.

You may be talking about sex, but this is a declaration of sorts, for Javi. Hauling yourself up onto one elbow, you place your other hand on his cheek and press your lips to his. You let your affection surge forth, kissing him deeply and insistently, trying to convey without words how dearly you regard him.

You think he understands. He cradles the back of your neck, clutching you to him as the urgency of the embrace crests.

Both of your grips relax naturally after that. He sighs into your mouth as you release him, but doesn’t let you move from where you’re half laying across him.

“Stay,” Javi murmurs, draping his arms over your back. His eyes drift closed.

Happily, you indulge. You tuck your nose into his neck and breathe him in, already feeling sleep cloud your mind.

Soft as a shush, rain begins to fall.

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese, @knightowl247, @pamguini, @piscespussybabe, @chibi-liz05, @dragons-of-the-usa, @bethanysboooks, @layniapetrovnaaa, @1800-fight-me, @finnisrioting (your tag wouldn't work), @sarahjkl82-blog

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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twdeadfanfic · 6 years

Text

Don’t look back Pt.3/3

*Summary: Daryl is used to his brother coming and going out of his life, leaving him alone, since he was a kid. He’s used to Merle meaning trouble too, and to be dragged into all his messes as Daryl loyally follows his brother. But this time Merle’s mess has reached top and has affected more people than the brothers, and Daryl finds himself wanting to step in and fix it, as once again he’s left alone by his brother. Inspired by me wondering how Daryl felt about having always done as Merle says and yet being always left alone, and especially by wondering how is Daryl so good with kids, handling baby Judith so good, like a pro since day one.

*Tags/Warnings: There’s cute stuff here, but the main tag is Angst. Daryl’s pov, there’s an OC (well…two…), but still, this is mostly a Daryl Dixon fic. Once again, this gets pretty angsty, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Last chapter! This is going to be very, very angsty people! You’ve been warned.

Also, I’ve been reblogging some pictures of Norman Reedus that I’ve called “young Daryl” and some gifsets that I think kind of have a bit of the vibe of this mini-series. If you want to check it, this is the tag: Don’t look back (Sorry but tumblr doesnt allow me to direct link it)

Link to my masterlist with my other works can be found on the description of this blog. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags.

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Months later, Daryl is still thinking about Claire’s words. He doesn’t know much about Merle’s situation, but now he knows he’s indeed getting an early release, though not until months. Daryl still means what he told Claire, he’s not going to stop being her friend, seeing her an Emily, but he can’t help but be nervous about what Merle is going to think and how his life is going to be with his brother back again.

He’s gone to the woods, further than usual, camped the night there, both to try and clear his mind and also to try and hunt a deer. He’s been only successful at the latest, and so now he’s trying to tie the deer to the bike, which is not that easy. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the bike for this, but he wanted to ride.

He rides back, plans on going to see Claire and Emily, give them some deer. Between the kindergarten and Claire working more, he doesn’t see them as often as he did once, but still often enough. He doesn’t want to show up at her place with a dead deer over his shoulders and so first he goes to his place to get it ready. It takes him a while, so when he rides to Claire’s place he knows Emily would be back from the kindergarten and Claire’d have finished working too.

“Hi!” Claire grins when she opens the door. “How was your hunting?”

“Got a deer.” He hands him a pack with some of the meat he got ready.

He walks inside and finds Emily inside that kind of big cage that Claire calls park, playing with some toys. She smiles when she sees him, reaching out to him, babbling something that sounds like “hi.” She does that lately, she stills babbles nonsense but also things like no, mum, and some other little words. Claire has said she’s going to teach her to say ‘Daryl’ and he’s not sure if she was kidding or not, but the idea makes him feel giddier than he wants to admit.

“Hi darlin’, what did you do to end up in baby jail?” He asks as he kneels down next to the park thing, picking Emily up and placing her outside.

“I told you not to call it like that,” Claire says, humor in her voice, as she goes to leave the meat in the kitchen. “It’s a park.”

“A park, yeah, sure, does it looks like a park to you, sweetheart?” He wouldn’t be caught talking like that to Emily outside that house, the idea mortifies him. He’s still embarrassed doing it in front of Claire, but not as much as once he had been. Emily babbles a “no” and Daryl looks at Claire, smirking. She rolls her eyes but smiles too.

Emily holds on Daryl’s hands as she tries to stand up. Daryl helps her steady herself as she tries taking some steps, his smile going wide. She’s always been a fast crawler, but now she’s trying to take steps too. “I’m going to come one day and you’re gonna be walking already, uh?”

“Then she’s going to be spending more time in baby jail. She already manages to get everywhere just by crawling the moment I don’t have my eye on her, I don’t want to think about her walking.”

“Nah, I’ll bail you out.” Daryl keeps helping Emily stumbling steps until the little girl gets bored of it and she sits down on Daryl’s leg, reaching out to grab a stuffed bunny that was one of her favorites.

“Bun.” She babbles as she tries to push it onto Daryl’s hand, he’s not very sure as for what.

“Hey, that’s a new word,” he says as he holds the bunny, still unsure of what Emily wants him to do with it.

“Yeah, a bunny.” Claire goes to sit down next to them. “Like the ones Daryl hunts and I’ve been feeding you, doesn’t that seem conflicting to you?” She jokes, Emily’s little enough not to understand what she’s saying. “No? Then wait until you watch Bambi and Daryl takes you hunting deer.”

Daryl snorts, nudging Claire with his shoulder, but Emily just smiles, unaware, taking another plushy, a fish this time, and pushing Daryl with it again. “What does she want me to do?”

“Don’t know, ask her.” Claire smiles, seeming amused, and she grabs a plushy to throw it at Daryl too. He rolls his eyes at her but can’t even pretend to be annoyed.

For a while, Daryl is silent, holding toys that Emily passes him as she babbles its names, sometimes right sometimes not, half his mind in the little girl, half the other still on his brother.

“Merle’s getting the early release.” He finally blurts out. He waits for Claire to say something, but she doesn’t, so Daryl glances at her. She’s serious and thoughtful, and Daryl guesses what she might be thinking about.

“I meant what I told you, just cos my brother’s back doesn’t mean I’m not going to see you both anymore. That ain’t happening.” Daryl knows how Merle can be, but he’ll think something, he’ll make it work. Claire just shrugs in silence. “You don’t believe me.” He deflates. He holds Emily a bit tighter, like if that could shield him from his emotions, but it does the opposite.

“It’s not that.” Claire let’s out a sigh. “Just…I wouldn’t hold it against you, if you do.” She fidgets with one of the toys as she speaks. “You’ve done enough for us. And Merle’s your brother, and you were always following him before, so-”

“I ain’t my brother’s dog or nothing, woman!” Daryl snaps harsher than he wants without letting her stop, he can’t help it, he’s always hated how he indeed ends up doing whatever Merle tells him. Emily looks at him, startled, like if he had scared her, and it’s like a punch to the gut.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Daryl.” Claire begins speaking softly again. “But you guys were always together, you’re brothers, so if when he’s back Emily and I don’t quite fit in the picture…well, I understand, and-”

“Stop with that.” Daryl cuts her again, softer this time. “I already told you nothing’s going to change.” It wasn’t entirely true, things would change with Merle there, Daryl knew it, but nothing was going to change the fact that Claire was his best friend and that he’d always want to help her to take care of Emily and protect the little girl, not Merle, not anything. He was loyal to his brother, but now he was loyal to Claire and Emily too.

“Okay.” Claire gives him a tiny smile.

“Only thing that can happen is that you will have to put up with my brother sometimes.” Daryl half-jokes, totally aware of how Merle can be sometimes, but Claire already knew him and she isn’t one to scare easy. Besides, Daryl doesn’t really plan on letting Merle around Emily too often.

“I can do that.” Claire’s smile goes a bit wider.

“Settled, then.”

They fall silent again but is not as tense as before. Daryl watches as Claire and Emily play with some construction blocks, passing them some from time to time as they build something without a defined form.

“What’s this supposed to be?” He asks as he passed them the block Emily pointed, way too big to place it on top of the other four that she has placed before.

“Modern art,” Claire replies, reaching out to stop the small tower from falling down. “She’s an artist, you see.”

“I see.” He smirks. “Gonna be a while until she can put a bike together.”

“She doesn’t want to put together a bike, she’s an artist, I told you.”

Emily doesn’t say anything, just passes Daryl another block, babbling as he waits for him to place it on top of the tower.

Daryl has gone out to the woods again, further this time, to the place where his uncle took him to camp as a kid to teach him how to hunt when his father was too drunk and too out of control. That, until his uncle left him too.

He likes the solitude, likes the woods and being out there, likes it better than the town, but after a couple of days he’s more than ready to go back to see Claire and Emily. He had just needed to clear his mind.

For all his words to Claire, Daryl can’t help but worry as days pass and Merle’s release date gets closer. It must be in a week or so by now, or maybe just days. Is not that he doesn’t want his brother to come back, he misses him, it’s just he can almost hear him making fun and what not of him and his friendship with Claire and her little girl. And he’s not sure how Merle’s going to take all the time he spends with Emily and Claire. He doesn’t think he’s going to like it, though. He’s unsure too of what his brother is going to want them to do once he’s back.

Anyway, there’s no point worrying about that now. It feels wrong, telling Claire that he’s not going to stop hanging out with her just because his brother is getting back and then spending more time in the woods, but he thinks she understands.

He has taken Merle’s bike again so he can enjoy it before he’s back, and he has left it hidden in some bushes at the outside of the woods. He should clean it before his brother gets back.

He makes his way back to where he left the bike but before he can reach it, he sees a man stumbling to him, seeming to come from the road. His clothes are ragged and bloodied, his face gray and splashed with more blood, his eyes clouded. Maybe he’s been in some kind of accident, he looks so bad Daryl doesn’t know how he’s walking.

“You okay, man?”

He doesn’t answer, and the more he approaches the more Daryl realizes he doesn’t look normal. Like, at all. A shiver runs through Daryl's spine as he looks at him, he looks beyond ill, dead even. The man begins reaching out for him, growling. Maybe he’s insane.

"Stop right there!” Daryl yells, raising his crossbow, and when the man keeps going Daryl loses the arrow, aiming to stop him but not kill him. The man keeps going though, doesn’t even seem to notice the arrow, so the next one Daryl loses goes straight through his chest. That doesn’t stop him either, and Daryl is dumbfounded for a moment. Before he knows what’s happening, the man throws himself at him with more strength that he seems to have and Daryl falls to the ground with him on top.

He struggles, trying to push him away but the man doesn’t relent, trying to bite him. Daryl manages to get out his hunting knife and stabs the man with it several times, but he doesn’t stop, and not knowing what to do, Daryl sinks it into the man’s skull as hard as he can. That finally makes him stop moving and Daryl kicks him off him when he drops dead on top of him.

Daryl rushes onto his feet, looking at the corpse, a thousand confusing thoughts racing through his mind. He doesn’t know what’s going on or what to do, but before he can think anything else, he sees another man and a woman looking like that going to him. He aims again, this time the arrow going straight to the woman��s chest but that doesn’t make her stop, neither the one straight to her heart and so Daryl aims at her head, and that makes her fall down. Her next arrow goes straight to the man’s head.

Daryl still doesn’t know what to do or what to think, all he knew is that he has to get out of there and back to the town. He takes the bike off the bushes and rides back to the road. There is a car there and two corpses lying on the ground, but Daryl ignores it, driving back to the town.

Halfway there he finds a couple of cars crashed on the road, and what it seems like one of those things, which Daryl is starting to doubt are people anymore, bended on top of someone, seeming to be biting him, or eating him, or Daryl doesn’t know what but he doesn’t stop, speeding up, going as fast as he can. Whatever is going on, Daryl needs to get to the town and check on Claire and Emily.

There are some more of those things at the town, roaming the streets, looking at him when they hear the bike, snapping, while others seem to be eating the people that are dead on the ground, and maybe Daryl is going crazy but he’s pretty sure those are people he knows. He still doesn’t know what’s going on, it just gets weirder and weirder, but whatever it is, it’s not good.

“Help!”

Daryl’s about to ignore the voice pleading for help but a woman runs in front of his bike, making him slam the breaks and almost falling down. Before he can yell at her he sees what seems one of those things, and this time he’s sure he knows her, he has seen her enough times at the park. Without thinking it twice, he rushes to take his crossbow and shoots at the head before she can get too close.

“The hell is going on?” He snaps at the woman who’s stopped in front of his bike.

“That, hell! The dead walking!” The woman seems out of herself but it’s not like Daryl can really blame her. “The end of the world!” Daryl scoffs at that, turning on the engine again. “I’ve seen it on tv, it’s not only here, it’s everywhere, people are going insane like that and attacking people everywhere!”

Daryl’s head has been on Claire and Emily the whole time, but it goes to his brother at that. Everywhere? Does that mean the jail where Merle is too? The knot of worry that’s clenching his stomach gets worse, he needs to go there and find his brother, and then Merle’ll know what to do. But first he needs to check on Claire and the little girl, make sure they are okay. Maybe she can convince Claire to go with him to get Merle or at least he needs to get her and Emily to a safe place, because that town is seeming crazier every passing minute.

Without any other word, the woman rushes into what Daryl guesses it’s her car to drive away. She should be good enough and so Daryl speeds up to Claire’s place. Those things snap their heads at him but Daryl ignores them, stopping just to shoot at them when they’re blocking the way, but he tries to just drive through them, afraid of getting out of arrows, and there’s not enough of them to actually block the road.

Daryl stops in front of Claire’s place, his worry going out of control when he sees the door is open and he straights out panics when he rushes inside and sees blood on the floor. He’s about to call for Claire but then there’s a horrifying gurgling sound and he sees her lying on the floor, hands clutching her throat as blood pours over them.

Daryl straight blacks out for a second but then he’s rushing to her, falling onto his knees next to her, pulling her into his arms. He doesn’t know what to do, panic gripping him as he takes her hands and sees her throat tore open. Claire looks at him with cloudy eyes as she chokes and gurgles, and Daryl thinks she chokes out something that sounds like ‘Emily’ but he’s not sure. He knows he has to find the little girl and keep her safe, but he can’t leave Claire.

He doesn’t know if Claire’s shaking or if it’s him, but his hands are trembling as he presses them to her throat and he’s sure his heart stops when Claire closes her eyes, lying limp on his arms. “No, no, no, Claire, hey.” He all but pants for air as his lungs seem to stop working, he has to do something but he doesn’t know what, the fear that grips his heart telling him she’s beyond help.

Claire’s eyes open to look at him as he shakes her and for a crazy second Daryl dares to have hope, but then she stops chocking and gurgling, her eyes fixed on him but empty, and just like that she’s gone.

Daryl can only stare at her body, his vision turning blurry as tears fill his eyes. He’s shaking, and his lungs burn as he gasps for air. It doesn’t feel real and at the same time it feels too real. It huts like it’s real. Daryl doesn’t think he can move, his body doesn’t seem to respond, but he forces himself to do it, he has to. He has to find Emily and keep her safe, though he doesn’t know what to do or where to go. He has to find Merle, take Emily with him, make sure both his brother and the little girl are safe, and then Merle will know what to do.

He’s holding Claire’s body against him but he makes himself lie her onto the floor to get up, tries not to look at her but he does and for a moment the pain overwhelms him again, threatening to make him crumble and fall again, but he forces himself to shut it and keep going. He rubs his eyes as he takes a deep breath, realizing too late that his hands are wet with Claire’s blood, smearing it over his face, turning his stomach.

Daryl chokes a whimper but he has no time for that, he has to find Emily. The little girl is going to be scared seeing him like that, though. At least she didn’t have to see her mother like that, she’s not around, and for a moment Daryl fears Emily’s not in the house and he’s not going to be able to find her, but it’s past time she was home from the kindergarten and he can see his little boots propped up at the side of the sofa. She has to be there, and this time it’s not going to be too late.

“Emily? Sweetheart?” He calls for her and there’s no babbly answer but Daryl forces himself not to panic and he rushes to her room. She’s in the corridor, sitting on the floor with her back to him as if blissfully oblivious to everything that’s going on, and Daryl lets out a relieved sigh. “Darlin’, we have to go, alright?”

Daryl walks closer to pick her up but stops, his blood freezing in his veins when he hears the growl coming from Emily. No, it can’t be that. She turns around and looks at him with those empty eyes, the same that the things on the streets have, her face drained of color but the red of the blood that has splashed it, contorting into something that terrifies Daryl as she snarls. It can’t be real.

Her little hands reach out for him as she growls and she tries to get up, stumbling a couple of steps before she falls down and resorts to crawling. Daryl can’t move, can’t think, can’t breathe, he feels as he’s as dead as Claire, empty, his mind numb.

Somehow his survival instinct kicks in through his shock, forcing him to stop looking at what is not Emily anymore, to turn away and run out of the house, but he’s not sure how he’s able to do it because next thing Daryl knows is that he’s on Merle’s bike riding as fast as he can, he doesn’t know where, doesn’t care. His mind is still clouded, making him feel numb, but that’s better than the pain. The pain is too much.

He takes a turn, just because, gets into the woods, keeps riding until the wheels of the bike get stuck in the mud and both the bike and him fall to the ground, hitting his head, but Daryl doesn’t care, doesn’t bother to try to get up. He wants his mind to be numb and the pain in his head is better to the one in his heart.

This doesn’t make sense. He still doesn’t know what’s going on but he doesn’t care, all he knows is that Claire is gone and that Emily is…something that is nor her, and it doesn’t make sense. Daryl curls on himself, closes his eyes. Maybe it’s a nightmare, maybe he’ll wake up, his nightmares are terrifying, painful, but they don’t hurt like this, and he knows this is real.

He can’t help his sobs, can’t stop them, neither the tears that burn his eyes. They are gone, he doesn’t understand how or why, but they are gone, his best friend and her little girl, the people Daryl wanted to protect, the people he ended up caring about so, so much, the people that made him happy, made his life better, the people he loves.

It hurts worse than if one of his bolts had gone through his heart, it hurts worse than if his heart’d have been ripped out of his chest while he’s still alive, his stomach clenches and turns, making him want to throw up.

Daryl stays like that, curled, eyes closed, fighting to breathe, until he hears a growl and knows that one of those things are close, but he can’t find the will to get up and fight it, he doesn’t want to move. His survival instinct kicks in once again when the thing gets close enough to reach him, though, making him move like a robot, getting up and facing the thing that growls and snarls, reaching out and trying to grab him

Daryl doesn’t bother to get an arrow on the crossbow and aim, he just bashes the crossbow onto the thing’s head, hitting it hard. The thing fells to the ground, probably dead, but Daryl keeps hitting and hitting, yelling at it, until what was its head isn’t recognizable anymore. He drops the crossbow and kicks the dead body until his legs give up and he falls to the ground.

He doesn’t want to feel. He wants to be numb again, he wants to shut it down, but images keep coming to his mind and there’s no way to stop them. He can’t get it out of his mind, the image of Emily, or the thing with Emily’s dead face.

He closes his eyes tight and he can almost see her when she was so, so tiny, wrapped in the scarf…the first time he held her…playing with her while she babbled…her holding onto his hands stubbornly trying to walk, but all those memories faze and all he can see is her dead face snarling as her dead body somehow crawled to him. Because Daryl knows it, knows that even though she’s moving, she’s dead, no matter he doesn’t understand how, and she’s not coming back

His memories of Claire smiling to him, joking as they three played together, talking with him for hours and hours as they walked, telling him he was his best friend, having his back in more ways than she knew, all them turn into her body dead in his arms, her empty eyes on him, he tries to hear her voice but all he hears is her gurgling as she chocked.

Daryl can’t take it and he curls onto himself again, shaking, his lugs burning as if his body doesn’t want to breathe anymore.

He was supposed to take care of them, to protect them, and he wasn’t there. He should have been there. He should have saved them. They should be alive. He failed them and now they are gone and he’s alone, and it hurts too much to keep going.

“And you call yourself a Dixon? You are a shame. Lying there on top of a pile of brains, whimpering like some pussy. This is all on you, Lil’ brother, all your fault.”

Daryl’s thinks he’s going insane when he hears Merle’s voice. Maybe he’s turning into one of those things too.

“You’ve been like this since you were this Lil’ brat, I always had to drag you everywhere with me, tried to teach you to be like me, and all for this…all I got for a brother is this whining, crying, useless, weak mess…I’m ashamed to call you my blood.”

Merle’s voice ranting again, so clear, and this time Daryl looks up but he can’t see his brother anywhere. He’s really going insane.

“You’re gonna be lying there, whimpering like a beaten dog, until you get your useless ass eaten? Nah, Lil’ brother, you stole your older brother’s bike and now you’re gonna get it back to him. So come on, get your whining ass on that bike and drive it to me, and without any scratch. Come on, Darylina.”

Merle.

He’s right.

His brother might still be alive, he has to. Of course he’s alive. He’s Merle. Merle doesn’t die.

Daryl has to find him.

He tries to get up but his legs are shaking too much. His head thumps from when he hit it when he fell off the bike but that’s good, that’s welcomed. He sits down, takes a deep breath. He wants to be numb again, he needs to be numb again, he doesn’t want to feel, he can’t.

He doesn’t want the pain, the hurt, the memories, the feelings. He shuts everything, he pushes everything down, somewhere where he hopes he won’t have to feel it or see it again. All his memories of Claire and Emily. He doesn’t want anything of that anymore, he can’t handle it. He needs it gone.

He struggles but at the end he manages to push everything down, to shut it down. He has to find Merle. Nothing else matters now but finding his brother.

Daryl gets up, takes the bike, drags it out of the mud. Emily liked to play in the sand and the mud, Claire never minded the little girl getting dirty if that meant she was having fun, she neither minded getting her clothes full of mud. Daryl can almost hear them laughing and tears burn in his eyes again as he gasps for air.

No.

That’s gone.

He has to shut that down.

Or otherwise he won’t be able to keep going, and he needs to find Merle.

He pushes it all down, all the pain, all the feelings, everything, shuts himself.

Daryl drags the bike back to the road, gets on it, kicks on the engine and seeps up, off to find his brother, fast enough he can’t think, fast enough he can’t feel anything that’s not the wind, and he doesn’t look back.

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Well...I told you this was going to be angsty :( I’m really sorry people, but I had this idea in my mind and I hade to write it down. I think it makes sense with how hard Daryl tried to find Sophia, he’s very protective and he likes kids, he didn’t want another one to die, and also it makes snse with how good and sweet he was with lil asskicker. Writing this killed me, I cried, but I also love it.

Next monday a liltte one-shot/imagine based on 9x09 is coming, and then on wednesday a new series begins. I hope you’ll like those! You can read the summaries in my masterlist.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you liked it! If you have a moment, please let me know your thoughts in the comments, your feedback makes my day!rry if there are mistakes.

If you want to be tagged (or removed from the tags) let me know!

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leaves-of-three · 7 years

Text

Day Eleven: Part 3 || The Alps

Connor Murphy x Reader

Word Count: 6439

Summary: The last part of Day 11 which involves awkward family dinners. [This is part of an in progress series. You can follow along here.]

[[Warnings: Mentions of suicide and a dead parent. Mentions of depression.]]

Tag List: [If you would like to be added to the tag list so you’ll be notified when a new chapter is posted, please just shoot me a message.] @hamiltrash-love @neverland-treasures @xdsockmonkey

Author Notes: This was written in parts over a depression fueled week. I hope that they at least vaguely fit together. At least knowing that I’ll have posted something, even if I’m not thrilled with it or wanted so much more from it, will hopefully be enough to ease my guilty conscious for not posting more regularly. xKatie

Out the kitchen window you saw Connor’s car pull up onto the side of your lawn. You felt a wave of relief wash over you. You’d spent the last five minutes listening to Holly chatter on and on while you stared outside. If you had to wait any longer, you might have seriously considered stabbing her. She only seemed to get worse the longer she was around.

“He’s here. I’ll be right back,” you said as you jumped out of the chair.

You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before running out the door. You were starting to have second thoughts on the entire thing. This was a horrible idea. Connor probably wouldn’t even come inside. He didn’t ask for this. He wasn’t going to be happy with you. You swallow and forced a timid smile onto your face, walking over to his window.

He rolled it down and looked up at you, “Did you forget how cars worked? You use the door to get inside.” He pointed to the passenger side door with mild confusion. “You could climb through the window, I guess, if you really wanted but it might be a little awkward.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at him, “Shut up.” His face looked even worse in person. Without a screen in the way, you could make out every little detail of the bruising and swelling. His skin had transformed into hues of purple, blue, and grey. Sickly yellow patches were beginning to poke through under the darker tones. The sight made your stomach churn. You scrunched up your nose, “Shit...you look awful.”

“Hmm, surprisingly not the first time I’ve had a conversation start like that.” He gave you a little grin. “I hope my face doesn’t make you lose your appetite.”

“I’m afraid I already lost it before you showed up...” You chewed on your bottom lip. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to bring this up to him. You should have canceled when you had the chance. “I, uhm, have a favor to ask you. You can say no! You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want. We could always leave if you really didn’t feel like it. I mean, I don’t even really want to do it. The more I think about it, the more awful it sounds. I’m just being dumb. You know what, never mind. Forget it.”

Connor raised his brows, “Are you going to tell me what it is or am I supposed to guess?”

“Yeah, sorry, uh... hold on.” You jogged around to the other side of the car and got inside, perching on the seat to look at him. The memories of the last time you were in here kept leaking into your thoughts. It was hard to look directly at him. The reason his face looked like that was because of you. He had gotten himself hurt because of something you had said. Every bad thing seemed to somehow connect back to you. It was starting to sit heavy on your heart. “Where do I start?” It was a valid question. You had no idea what you were doing anymore. You were sad and empty.

“How about you start by asking me what favor you need?” He took off his seat belt and angled himself to face you. “I promise I’ll be nice.”

You sighed, “I was wondering if you would eat dinner inside with me instead of going out somewhere.”

He went to reply but, as he opened his mouth to speak, you interrupted him, “It’s not that simple! It’s...arg, okay...okay, long story, but apparently my dad has a girlfriend now. Either that or I let a stranger into my house and that stranger is now cooking dinner and going to poison us all and steal what little we have. But basically, there is a wannabe porn star in my kitchen who wants to surprise my dad and eat dinner with us. ...And I may have gotten pissed off and volunteered to invite you inside for a double date with my father.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth faster with each passing second. You were starting to doubt everything you were saying and panic. “Wow that sounds weird when I say it out loud. This was not how I imagined our first date to be. Is it even a date? Oh god, what if it’s not a date. That’s so embarrassing. Why did I do this? What is wrong with me? I’m so sorry. I’m not right in the head. I’m all messed up and nothing feels real anymore and sometimes I feel like I blink and five hours has gone by without me noticing. I cry so much that I get dehydrated because I’m loosing so much fluids from the constant flow of tears that never seem to end. I don’t know how to be happy. Nothing brings me joy except seeing your face but that doesn’t even work anymore. Now when I look at your face all I see is the pain I caused you and it reminds me of Jus-”

You couldn’t say his name out loud so you glossed over it while you continued to word vomit. “I just think of him because he did that to you and that was my fault. Everything is my fault. I’m an idiot. I say I want my dad to be happy but that’s a lie because I don’t want him to date. I don’t like that there’s a strange woman in my house. I don’t like that he didn’t tell me about her. I hate her. I miss my mom. I don’t know how I’m going to get caught up on all my school work. I’m so far behind. I was seriously considering dropping out and running away. Then I’d have to live on the streets or in homeless shelters but at least then I wouldn’t be a failure to everyone because no one would know where I went and they could forget about me. They could be happy and move on without me getting in their way. I’ve hardly ate anything in the past few days and when I do, I feel like I want to puke it back up. My body is rejecting everything because it wants to be empty. I wanted to enjoy time with you but that got ruined. I thought maybe for once something could be normal when we hang out. Then some fucking blonde lady showed up unexpectedly and I’m supposed to be welcoming and hospitable. I hate my dad for putting me in that situation. I wanted to make him feel what I felt when she showed up at our door. I wanted him to walk in and find you sitting there, ready to eat dinner, like he should totally know exactly who you are already. I wanted him to have to deal with a stranger invading his house. I wanted him to feel uncomfortable and confused because I didn’t tell him anything or warn him at all. I wanted to hurt him...what kind of person does that to someone they love? Who the hell makes the people they love miserable so that maybe, just maybe, they’ll start to understand how you’re feeling? I’m a horrible person and a shitty daughter and I was going to use you for my ill doing and I’m so sorry...”

You finally stopped to catch your breath and slumped against the seat rest. You kept your eyes on your hands. You didn’t want to look at him. “Now I’m embarrassed because I just said all that and I want to cry but I’m trying not to do that anymore. I don’t even tell that kind of shit to my journal. I don’t know why I said it to you. I’m not a good person. I’m insane and losing my mind and don’t know how to function properly. I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for any of this.” Your hands fidgeted anxiously together, “I should go.”

Connor had stayed quiet while you spoke. He reached a hand out and placed it on top of your restless ones. They stopped moving at his touch. You still refused to look up at him. You heard him clear his throat, “...You thought this was a date?”

Your head shot up to look at him, mortified. Your eyes were wide with panic. “No! I didn’t think that! I...I...mean...I...” Your breath caught in your throat. Had you misread everything? Of course Connor wasn’t taking you on a date. Why would he? Why would he ever like you? You were nothing. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and pulled your hand from his, quickly turning to the door to leave. You had to get out of here.

“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” He called out to you and grabbed your arm to stop you. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant to say...hey...would you look at me? Please?”

Bashfully, you turned your turned your head to face him. You could feel the heat on your cheeks as you silently wilted from embarrassment. You kept your mouth tightly shut. You should probably stop talking for now. It wasn’t getting you anywhere good.

Connor gave you a tiny smile. His thumb brushed lightly across your skin where he still held your wrist. Your eyes drifted down to study the small touch. It made your stomach seize with adoration for him. “What I meant to say was, I hope you didn’t think that low of me, that I would take you out to a fast food restaurant for a first date. I know you’ve been going through a lot the past few days. I just wanted to take you out and make sure you were okay. ...Also I currently resemble a troll. I would hope that when I do take you out on a date, I would look more human.”

“When you do?” Your voice came out small.

He shrugged, “Yeah. When I do. When you’re ready. I don’t think you are right now.”

He was right. You weren’t ready to start dating. Not after everything you had been through. You hadn’t given yourself any time to heal. Just a few hours ago, you were sobbing in the shower. That wasn’t the sort of person who should rush into any kind of relationship. You took a deep breath, “What if I’m never ready?”

Connor sat on the question for a minute. His brows were knitted together in thought. Then he spoke, “You will be. In time. But even if you’re not, then I’ll still be your friend. I don’t willingly go and get my ass kicked for just anyone. You’re...special. To me.” His words were sheepish towards the end of his sentence, like he was having an internal struggle with himself on whether or no he should say them. He turned to look out his window and away from your staring gaze. You noticed his foot was tapping anxiously against the floor of the car.

“You’re special to me too, Connor.” Without him, you wouldn’t be anywhere. Without him, you’d still be alone.

He looked back at you. His eyes were perplexed and his tone was shrouded in disbelief, “You do?”

It was your turn to give him a warm smile of comfort. You nodded, “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

From what little you knew about Connor, it occurred you that there was a high possibility no one had ever made him feel special before. If you were the first one than you didn’t want to leave anything to chance. You didn’t want him to feel unwanted a second longer. You clasped his hand in yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.

The edges of his lips twitched into a smile, “Is there really a porn star in your kitchen?”

His words cut through the somber air that had settled between you two and you laughed. It felt good to laugh. “Her name is Holly Silk. Tell me that doesn’t sound like the name of an armature porn star.”

His features softened and lit up at the sound of your laugh. You watched his body relax into the back of his seat. “I’m picturing an older chick in a skimpy school girl outfit with pigtails putting a meatloaf in your oven. On a scale of one to ten, how accurate is that assumption. Your answer will be the deciding factor if I stay or not.”

“Okay, first of all, gross.” You giggled, “Second of all, you’re probably at a three on an accuracy scale. She’s dressed in reasonable middle aged woman clothes but the jury is still out on how real her boobs are.”

Connor laughed. It was a delightful sound. You hadn’t seen him laugh like that before. It was carefree. It was relaxed. It was peaceful. It was a nice look on him. “I guess I’ll have to come in and join you for dinner to see for myself. But I’m warning your right now, don’t expect me to be a master conversationalist.”

You beamed at him and leaned across the seats to hug him, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! It’ll be so fun...and by fun I mean awkward and horrible and miserable for everyone.”

He snorted and shrugged you off him, “Okay but what do I say when I they ask me what happened to my face?”

“Just be vague and I’ll try to change the topic whenever I can.” You glanced back to your house. Your dad would be getting home soon. “Should we go in?”

Connor sighed a long, drawn out, dramatic sigh, “Alright but you owe me future Burger King after this. I don’t come cheap.”

It was odd to enter your own house feeling like a stranger. Holly had fully made herself at home in your kitchen. You took note of the fact that she seemed to know exactly what was behind each cabinet. This wasn’t her first time cooking here. It felt like even more of a betrayal from your father. She was important enough to him that he brought her into your home. Yet he never thought to mention her to you.

You cleared your throat with a harsh cough to grab her attention. Connor had stuck close behind you. You could feel his chest practically pressing into your back. It reminded you of a shy child hiding behind their parents leg. “Hey, Heather, this is my friend Connor,” you stepped aside to usher him forwards.

Holly turned around and forced another smile, “Holly. It’s nice to meet you, Connor- oh.” Her eyes widened when she caught sight of his face. She swallowed whatever comment she was going to make as she wiped her hands off on a towel and held it held to shake.

Connor grabbed her hand with a little too much intensity. You watched him tightly squeeze her hand in his with the shake, “Nice to meet you too, Hannah.” He put on a big, cheesy smile for her. One that was caked in sarcasm.

“Holly,” she corrected again.

You had to bite your lip to stop from smiling. You pushed past her into the kitchen to see what she was working on, “How’s the taco’s coming along?” You wouldn’t admit this but it smelled amazing in there.

“I’ve already got everything prepared. If you wouldn’t mind helping set the table, that would be a big time saver,” She followed you into the kitchen. “Steven should be home soon.”

“Yes I am aware of what time my dad comes home.” You opened the cabinet and grabbed four plates. “Connor, would you mind getting the glasses? They’re to the left of the stove.”

You carried the plates to the table and set them in front of each seat. The last time anyone had sat down at this table was last Christmas when your aunts stopped by for dinner. Mostly you just took your meals in the living room to watch tv while you ate. Connor carried a stack of glasses to you and put them next to each plate. He glanced at you to see what he was supposed to do next. You just smiled at him, “Pick a chair and claim it as your own.”

He took the one closest to the corner with his back to the wall. You slid into the one beside him while Holly brought out each fixing and lined them up in middle of the table to create a little taco bar. Under different circumstances, you’d of been excited to enjoy the meal. Instead, guilt and nerves were settling into your empty stomach. Before you had time to think on it too much, the front door opened.

Three sets of eyes all turned to face your father walking in. Each one just as curious as the next for his reaction. He stopped in his tracks, barely having left the doorway, and stared back. He blinked slowly a few times as he took in the scene. There was his daughter, his girlfriend he forgot to mention, and some punk kid with a beat up face sitting around his dinner table.

Holly stood up and walked over to him, kissing his cheek, “Surprise! My business trip got called off early and I thought I would come to surprise you.”

You leaned on your hand and stared down your father, “Yeah dad. Surprise, alright. Surprise, surprise.”

He took a quick second to regain himself after the shock and put a smile onto his bearded face. “Wow. This is...unexpected,” he glanced between you and Holly with worried eyes. “I can see you’ve met Y/N. Has she been, uh, respectful?”

You snorted a sarcastic laugh, “Aren’t I always? Holly’s been so wonderful. She’s been telling me all about the two of you. Funny how it’s the first time I’m hearing of it.”

Your father put his hand on Holly’s back as he stepped more further into his house. “I’ve been meaning to catch you up but, you’ve been so out of it lately, I didn’t want to bother you.” He turned his attention to Connor. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Connor. He’s my date for the evening. We had plans to go out but we decided to change them when other circumstances arose,” you kept your tone curt and your features detached. “I hope that’s okay with you. I wouldn’t want to suddenly throw something at you when you’re not prepared.”

He cleared his throat and gave you a warning look, silently telling you to cut the crap. He stepped forward and reached his hand across the table to Connor, “I’m Steven. It’s nice to meet you, Connor.”

You side glanced at Connor to watch him shake hands with your father. His entire demeanor had changed. It was different from when he met Holly. He didn’t make eye contact and pulled his hand back to his side the second his grip was released. Everything about his body language was more closed off and shut down. You wondered if he was intimidated by your father. Your dad was a big guy, after all. At first look he could seem rather threatening. It was great for being a security guard, awful for meeting any of your potential dates.

“Let’s eat? It looks wonderful as always, Hol.” He pulled out a chair for her to sit in before sitting beside her.

“Yes, Con. Doesn’t it look just wonderful?” Your voice dripped with mockery. Connor shot you a displeased look with his new nickname but otherwise kept quiet.

The table was silent while you each prepared your tacos. You only took one. Every time you put food into your stomach, you’d immediately feel sick and start to reject the contents. Instead of food, you had been surviving off the constant anxiety twisting and filling your empty stomach. You nibbled at the hard shell.

Holly was the first one to break the fallen silence. She placed a napkin across her lap as she spoke, “Steven tells me you’re a great painter, Y/N.”

You hadn’t painted anything in over two year, “I’m mediocre at best. Besides I don’t paint anymore. I ran out of water colors, like, two years ago and never bothered to get anymore. It was just a stupid hobby.”

“She’s being modest. She used to paint these beautiful sunsets. I didn’t know you ran out. You should have told me. I would bought you more,” Steven spoke between hardy bites.

“With what money?” It came out harsher than you intended. You knew it was a touchy subject. He tried to hide it but you knew better. Your family didn’t have any extra money to help fuel a hobby. You hadn’t mentioned it because you knew he would have bought you some. You had stopped asking for things years ago. It was better that way. He wouldn’t feel obligated to get you anything. He could use every cent to save up for important matters.

His eyes narrowed at your question. Touchy subject. He cleared his throat. “We have money, Y/N. I’ll pick you up some after work tomorrow.”

“I don’t want them. I told you. I don’t paint anymore,” You made sure to drive that last point home to him.

He shrugged you off and turned his attention to Connor. You could tell he was getting angry at the attitude you were giving him. It only fueled your desire to piss him off even more. You felt a bit of evil rise up in you and you smiled to yourself. He studied Connor’s face, “What happened there?”

“Hmm?” It was the first sound Connor had made since your father got home. All attention turned to him.

“What happened to your face? You get into a fight?” Your dad gave him a hard, unforgiving look. He was still dressed in his security uniform.

“Oh-” Connor gave you a quick glance. “Yeah, uh, it was a fight.”

“He tried to scam off one of his drug dealers and they had to teach him a lesson,” you stated simply.

Connor tensed. The hard shell of his taco cracked down the middle as his grip tightened around it. “Yeah, heh, what she said. Won’t be doing that again,” he gave a nervous, breathless laugh.

Both Holly and your father stared in shock at the two of you. You chuckled to yourself and took a small bite of your food before speaking, “I’m kidding! God, you guys are so uptight. Chill.” You tuned your attention to Holly, ready to dive in. “Have you ever been married before, Holly?”

She licked her lips and gave you a tight smile, “No. I have not.”

“Why not?”

Your father gave you another warning look, “Y/N. Enough.”

“No, no it’s fine, Steven. Honestly. I don’t mind. It’s good for us to get to know each other more.” Holly was taking things like a champ. You had give her some credit. “I was engaged once. Things didn’t end well. But that’s all in the past. Is there anything else you’d like to know? I’m an open book.”

You scowled a bit and looked down at your half eaten taco. It wasn’t fun messing with someone if they were fine with it.

Your dad decided to step in, “Personally I’d like to know more about your friend. Have you always lived in town, Connor?”

He shrugged, “Yeah.”

“Do you have any siblings?” Holly chimed in.

Connor gave another shrug, “Yeah.”

“Not much of a talker?” She laughed. “I have two older brothers. What about you?”

“Just a sister,” he mumbled.

“Why didn’t you go through with the marriage?” It was your best attempt to steer the conversation away from Connor. He was clearly not enjoying the spot light.

Holly took sip of water and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Despite claiming to be an open book, she was obviously uncomfortable with there the topic had turned. “He, uhm...he passed away. Car accident.”

You wanted to feel bad for her. Really, you did. It was just that your emotions still weren’t working properly. Empathy didn’t seem to be something you were capable of in the moment.

“Oh. My mom killed herself in our bathtub,” you stated it in a matter of fact manor. The second the words fell from your mouth you regretted speaking them.

The table went quiet. You saw Connor tense up out the corner of your eye. Your father glared at you in horror from across the table. You had never once discussed the topic of your mother’s death with him before. When you were younger, he said it was an accident. He never went into detail with you. It was only when you were older that you found out the truth from an aunt. Your mother was a taboo subject for your dad. Anytime you’d mention her, he’d close up and brush you off. The fact that you had stated the matter of her death in such a way, in middle of a dinner table full of guests, would be considered the ultimate form of betrayal to your father. A chill flowed through your veins.

Steven slammed his glass onto the table. His jaw was set tight and his eyes were narrow. He harshly shoved the chair back and stood up, “I think it’s time I drove Holly home. Y/N, I expect the dished to have been cleaned, him-” He pointed a calloused finger at Connor, “-to be gone, and you to be in bed by the time I return. Is that understood?”

You kept your eyes cast down at your lap and nodded meekly.

“I said,” his voice rising. “Is that understood?”

“Yes,” you shot back. You turned to glare at him. Anger began to claw up and out of you. This was his fault. If he had told you about Holly beforehand than none of this would be happening right now.

Holly gently pushed her chair back and stood up. She gave you a sympathetic look. You only scowled back at her. Your father put his arm around her and ushered them towards the door. A moment later, they were gone.

Your anger faded into sadness once they were out of sight. You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. No more crying. You were so sick of crying. A sense of shame blanketed over you and your shoulders sagged under the weight. This was what you had wanted. You had wanted to hurt your father. Congratulations. You had done it. Then how come it felt like shit?

“...Fun dinner. Thanks for inviting me,” Connor’s voice chirped from beside you.

You turned to look at him. He was trying to hide a grin. You frowned, “Something funny to you?”

He shook his head but the grin only spread, “I’m sorry. It was just...such...a shit show.”

The more he tried to hold back laughter, the more you started to feel it too. He was right. It was a shit show. Only about half of the tacos had been eaten. All of Holly’s hard work was thrown away over a single comment. You snorted out a laugh. “What the fuck? Who brings up their mother’s suicide at dinner? What is wrong with me?” The giggles began to burst out of you. There was some dark humor hidden under all the macabre.

Connor shook his head in disbelief, “I thought my family was fucked up. I couldn’t have topped that if I tried.” A few amused laughs came out of him to join in with your own.

“I am so dead,” you said as you wiped tears of laughter from your eyes. “My father is going to murder me.” You shrugged, “Fuck it.”

“Speaking of which, I would like to be out of the way as soon as possible. I’ve already got a dad who wants to murder me. I don’t need another one.” Connor stood up from the table. “Do you need help with the dishes?”

“Nah. Leave ‘em. A little more chaos can’t hurt.” You followed him as he walked towards the front door.

Anger, sadness, shame, laughter...all in the span of five minutes. Talk about some serious mood swings. You didn’t know what was going on inside your head but it was a mess. The quick burst of joy you had gotten was already fading back into depression. The idea of Connor leaving was only helping the heavy sadness along. You didn’t want to see him go.

Connor stood in the doorway. He was shuffling the toe of his boot against the ground. He seemed reluctant to leave as well. You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a tight hug.

“Thank you, Connor. For surviving through this,” you said. You weren’t ready for him to go yet. You were afraid of the emptiness that tended to follow whenever he left your sight. You unwillingly pulled out of his embrace.

There was an awkward pause as you both just stood in the door facing each other. Neither of you wanted to walk away first. Connor scratched the back of his head and took a small step back, “Yeah, uh, no problem. I’ll see Monday, I guess.” He gave you a halfhearted wave as he turned to leave.

You wrapped your arms around your chest while you watched him walk away. Your heart was already starting to ache. He got about half way to his car before he spun around. You immediately perked up with curiosity when he faced you.

“Hey...uh...do you want to go get some ice cream or something?”

You were already in trouble. Hearing your dad’s wrath would be a worthy to price to pay if it meant you wouldn’t have to leave Connor just yet.

A smile broke across your face and you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

“I know it’s up here somewhere! Just...fucking chill,” Connor grumbled as he drove down an old dirt road. The car’s high beams lit up the dark road before you. He kept claiming he knew where he was going every five minutes. As far as you could tell, he was lost.

“The ice cream is melting!” You held two bowls in each hand. Both of them were filled with chocolate icecream and topped with chocolate sprinkles. The icecream was starting to sweat and you could see it pooling up around the bottom of the cups. Connor had insisted you take it go. He claimed he knew of a better place to sit and eat. Your palms were starting to freeze from holding the bowls.

He shushed you and squinted ahead, “There it is! See it?” He pulled the car into a field.

You looked up. You didn’t see much of anything. “I see creepy trees? Are we going to summon demons in a field? This looks like a place you’d burn pentagrams into the ground,” you handed him his cup as he put the car in park.

You didn’t have to look to know he was rolling his eyes. “They’re not creepy. They’re apple trees. It’s an old apple orchard.”

You looked again. Apple trees were nice when they were full of leaves and red fruit. Without the flair, they were just stumpy, dead trees with long, spindly branches. The headlights illuminated the closest trees and cast the rest into dark, ominous shadows. “...Yeah totally not creepy at all.”

Connor turned to give you an unamused look. You batted your lashes at him and feigned innocence. “I’m serious. Totally not creepy.”

“Just trust me.” He pulled the keys out of his car. Suddenly the entire world around you was cast into darkness without the car to shed its light. The eerie feeling of the orchard only intensified. “Get out,” he ordered you.

Your eyes widened in horror, “You can’t be serious.”

He chuckled to himself and opened his door, “I’m super serious. I told you. Trust me.”

“If I get murdered tonight, I have no one to blame but my own stupidity,” you moaned as you exited the car with your bowl of chocolate heaven.

You shivered as you stood outside in the dark. Connor walked around to the front of his car and hoped up onto the hood. He scooted back and leaned against windshield, patting the spot beside him for you.

“In theory that’s really cute but, in reality, you’re basically cleaning a bunch squished, dead bugs off the glass with your back...” You scooped up a bit of ice cream and licked it off your spoon as you stared at him.

He gave you an incredulous look, “You never stop complaining. Do you?”

You smiled as you finished the ice cream off the plastic spoon, licking it clean, “Afraid not.”

You watched him roll his eyes. It was becoming a common occurrence whenever he spoke to you. He shrugged his military style jacket off his shoulders and draped it over the glass beside him, “There. Now get on the fucking car.” Carefully, so not spill any ice cream, you crawled onto the spot beside him and laid back against his jacket.

“Thank you,” you mumbled through another mouthful.

“Shut up and look at the damn sky. This is what we came here for,” he plopped a spoonful of his own ice cream into his mouth. Instead of looking up, you watched his lips close around the spoon. Even if they were bruised and swollen, he still had beautiful lips.

Eventually you let your eyes travel up to the night sky. You inhaled a sharp breath. Without the pollution of light, the sky was a dark black and plastered with bright stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen so many stars at once. It was breathtaking.

You scooted closer to Connor’s side. The next few minutes were spent in silence, staring up at the beauty above, and finishing off the partially melted ice cream. When you were done, you placed the cup off to the side on top his car. As you kept your head eyes upwards towards the sky, you felt his arm snake around your shoulders. He pulled you into him. Your head fell against his shoulder. You smiled softly to yourself. This was worth the drive.

“Make a constellation,” you glanced up at him.

He looked down at you with an inquisitive look. You had never seen him this relaxed before. Everything about him was so peaceful. He was at home here. You were happy you got to share this moment with him.

“A constellation?” He asked.

"Mhm! Make me a constellation and I’ll make you one. Then we can live forever in the sky.” It was getting late. You had your daily intake of chocolate, you were cuddled up next someone special, and you were under a beautiful blanket of stars. It seemed like a good idea.

Connor rested his head back against the windshield and stared up at the sky, “Okay. There.” He pointed his finger into the air. “See that star? The one just to the right of the tree branch?”

You nodded.

“Start with that star. Then go up to that extra bright one there.” His finger moved in an upward fashion. “Then go back down to that little one.” He painted invisible lines in the air as he connected the stars. “Then back up to that bright one and down to that flickering one.”

You imaged a giant letter M painted in the sky, “So what is it?”

“It’s a mountain range. Specifically the Alps,” he replied. “Now you make me one.”

You wanted to ask him why he thought of the Alps as a constellation but you waited. Your eyes scanned over the sky looking for any stars that could potentially make the shape of what you were thinking. “Aha, found it." You pointed upward and drew a triangle with two lines coming out one end. You did your best to describe the stars you were connecting. “It’s a fish. You have to use your imagination. That’s what’s so great about constellations. You could connects a squiggle of dots and call it a bear or some shit. I made yours a fish.”

Connor scrunched up his nose, “Why a fish?”

“Why the Alps?” You shot back.

He shifted his body so he could better look at you, “In Frankenstein, Mary Shelley uses a lot of symbolism to describe situations. Victor flees to the Alps. He’s overcome with the horrors he’s inflicted and his pain of creating a monster. The Alps numb his pain. They bring him comfort. They symbolize the sublime of nature. The beauty that inspires both awe and fear. The mountains are majestic in their beauty but they’re an unforgiving force. ...They day I met you I was reading that book. You reminded me the Alps.” He went quiet and settled back down against the car.

An unfamiliar feeling washed over you. You couldn’t quite place what it was. It was a strange cocktail of nervous energy, pure adoration, and a heavy sadness. You weren’t sure how one could feel such love and heartbreak at the same time. “I chose a fish because it reminds me of the lake. The lake is my happy place. It’s where I go when I need to escape everything but still feel the safety and familiarity of home. It used to be because it reminded me of my mom. But now,” you took a deep breath. “Now it reminds me of you.” You rested your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. Everything shared between you two had been vulnerable and transparent. You wanted to soak in the moment. You didn’t want to forget.

Connor brushed a hand through your hair. His fingers lazily moved against your scalp to dull you into a spell of relaxation. “You know what you said earlier?” His voice was soothing and barely above a whisper.

Through closed eyes you mumbled out a, “Hmm?”

“In the car this evening? When I showed up at your house? You said you didn’t know how to be happy anymore. That you felt empty. That you wanted to punish the people around because then maybe they’d understand how you were feeling?”

You stiffened a little against him for fear of where this might go, “Oh...that...yeah...”

He sighed, “Me too. I understand. I feel that too. I just, I mean, I just don’t want you to think you’re alone in feeling that way. I get it. You don’t have to pretend around me.”

You felt yourself relax against him and nodded silently, “Okay.”

#connor murphy x reader #connor murphy fic #connor murphy imagine #connor murphy #dear evan hansen fic #deh fic #deh

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themadnesscycle · 7 years

Text

What Do You Mean My Body Is Now Your Body (Part 4) : “Do we really have to do this ?”

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

A/N : We’re slowly coming to the end, I think there’s probably like two parts left (and they’ll be longer since I’ll have a whole week break from uni) but I don’t know what to feel about this one, so I hope you will like it. And one last thing, I never really know who wants to be constantly tagged on the future part for this series, so just like this > post < if you want to be on every parts.

Tagged : @psychnsvet , @skyfall8600 , @spider-quackson , @kissed-by-the-universe , @muffinfangirl28 , @lionfart

“Can’t you just be honest with me ?” you stared at Peter who was a nervous mess. “Because I know you, and I don’t really know what is it about, but I know you’re keeping something from me. And the fact I’ve got this weird strength and hearing ability is making me even more suspicious.”

Peter and you were sitting on the sofa, facing each other. It took you a good hour or so to put back the door like it used to, hoping May would never hear about this. Since then, you’ve been questioning Peter about everything.

“Why am I the only one with strength ?” “I don’t know,” he answered.

“Don’t you feel weird ? Anything ?” “No,” he said.

“You used to be, like, pretty strong. I mean, you still are. And that happened just like that.” you snapped your fingers and he shrugged.

Peter’s short answers made you mad, and definitely confirmed that something was up with him.

He was about to speak but you warned him before, “You better tell me the truth, because if I know you’re lying, you’re gonna regret it.”

There was a war in Peter’s head. He wanted to tell you so you could be fully aware of the body you were in. You would discover it sooner or later anyway, but he didn’t want to scare you or worry you. And it would be easier if he was in his own body.

“I’ll tell you, but not right now. Just… give me some time, please ?”

You were about to argue but did nothing. You could tell he was really anxious, and that it must be something big. He was also giving you the puppy eyes, which still worked on your face. And it was even worse on his. You couldn’t tell no to Peter when he did that face.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You’re lucky I can never say no to you.”

Peter smiled, and surprised you by hugging you tight, “I guess we have the same problem.”

Oh.

Your heartbeat went faster, and you were afraid Peter would feel it through the hug so you stepped back.

“You know what ?” you asked without really waiting for an answer, “even if this situation is really weird, I’m glad it’s you.” you blushed a little, and so did Peter, hope rising within him when he thought there was a chance that you could have feelings for him. But he knew that it wasn’t what you meant, or maybe it was, and it was driving him crazy.

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Though there are some things I would rather do… alone. Or even not do, but I’ve to-”

“Peter.”

The boy stopped rambling and looked at you, flustered. The thought of showering in your body, or even using your body was something that disturbed him. He just couldn’t it. If he had to touch you, and he had thought about this more than once, he wanted it to be consensual. And to be in his own body. He respected you too much and was afraid to do something that would not please you.

“I’m not comfortable, either. But we don’t have a choice. I mean, except if you’re ready to boycott the shower and to smell like-”

“Of course not.” he snorted, “I won’t do this to you.”

“Great,” you smirked, “Now, let’s shower before May comes home.”

Peter nodded, even though he wasn’t very pleased. “Yeah, let’s not make it any weirder than it actually is.”

“Okay, this is exactly like at the pool. It’s like we’re in swimsuit.” you told Peter, who was nodding and trying to be positive.

“Yeah. Okay. Right.”

You were both in underwear and facing each other in the shower. The situation was awkward, but somehow funny.

“Do you think we should take a bath ?” you asked him. “I don’t know which one is more comfortable for us.”

“I think a shower is better. It will be quicker.”

You nodded and turned on hot water, relaxing you a little bit. You took the shower head and directed it toward Peter, acting like it was a gun, hoping it would distract him, which worked. He laughed.

“C’mon, (Y/N) ! I don’t have anything to protect me, it’s unfair !”

“It’s only water, you fragile thing.” you smirked, not so long though because Peter managed to block your hands and take the shower hand.

It was his turn to smirk, his eyes full of humor.

“Don’t you dare, parker.”

He laughed, “It’s only water, you fragile thing.” he mimicked you and watered your face and hair.

For a moment, you both forgot all your problems and felt like little kids fighting with water.

“Okay, what about we wash our hair. That’s the easiest thing.”

Or so you thought. Because if you had no trouble washing Peter’s hair, they were so soft and short, it wasn’t the case of the boy in front of you. He was mumbling and grimacing, pulling your hair everywhere and not really washing them. You couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re so bad, Pete. Let me do it.” You shook your head with disbelief.

You washed your hair and massaged your scalp, which made Peter close his eyes. He leaned toward you without realizing it, focused on what you were doing. You bit your lips, trying to ignore the desire to kiss him. Well, to be honest, it was easy. It would be weird to kiss your own self.

“Enjoying it ?” You smirked, and he nodded, eyes half open. “Don’t fall asleep. We still have a lot to do.”

He groaned, “No need to remind me.”

You laughed and washed the hair out. Now, it was time to wash your body. That was something else. Peter understood it by your expression.

“Do we really have to do this ?” He asked.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you took a sponge bath and put soap on it before rubbing it gently on your body. Peter stiffened but then relaxed, realizing it wasn’t that terrible.

“It’s like a massage,” he admitted and you smiled.

“Okay, well, I’m going on my breast, so… just relax. Then you can turn around and I’ll do my back.”

Peter breathed in and closed his eyes, unable to look at you while you were washing softly your breast. You could tell he was so uncomfortable and mortified, so you didn’t say anything, though you were curious.

“Does it feel weird ?”

“Shut up.”

You bit your lips, holding back a laugh, but your body was shaking and Peter noticed it. He glared at you and you put a light kiss on his cheek.

It was too much for this poor boy. Too much proximity. He didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“Okay, you can turn around now.”

Peter sighed and you did your best to be as fast as possible. He would stiffen when you passed on your butt or near your intimate area. Even you were quite uncomfortable. Peter and you locked your gaze on each other, kind of asking permission for you, and him begging you silently not to do it. Your hand made slowly your way to your pants, still hesitating, but you were about to reach it and Peter couldn’t stay still. He grasped, gently, your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I can’t (Y/N). This is too…”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” You reassured both him and yourself. “I’m really not comfortable, either.”

“Can I…” he stopped, looking at you warily, “can I do it ?”

Your cheeks grew red, and you went silent for a minute.

Okay. Okay. He can do it. It’s Peter. And he will be using the sponge.

“Okay.” You handed him the sponge.

You didn’t look, but you heard him breathe sharply. Your cheeks rapidly went red, and so did Peters. He then rinsed the sponge under water and put soap on it before doing circle on your -his- back. It was soft, and Peter was careful. It didn’t feel weird, though the situation was awkward. Saying you were not used to it would be best to describe the feeling, but you still understood why Peter was tense. He went toward his ass, and you immediately stiffened, which made him chuckle.

“You weren’t laughing when I was the one doing it.”

“And you’re not having fun anymore, huh.” he retorted.

“I am having fun.”

Peter laughed, and even though he couldn’t see your face, you tried to keep it straight but Peter’s laugh was a melody you loved too much.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Well, if the situation was different, I would be.” You turned around to see a flustered Peter. God, how you felt bold. You loved to make Peter blush. Causing any reaction from him made you feel confident every time. But then, anyone could make him blush.

You’re not that special, calm down.

“I would be too.”

It was only a murmure. Maybe you wouldn’t have heard that if it weren’t for Peter’s great sense. But you did hear it. And you could also hear racing hearts. Was there a possibility that you weren’t the only one feeling in love ? Or was it the intimacy messing with your hormones ?

#mine #tomholland #peter parker imagines #spiderman imagine #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction

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daisy-chain-gardens · 7 years

Text

Exchange Romance - Part 2

Part 1: https://daisy-chain-gardens.tumblr.com/post/162913902685/exchange-romance (sorry for the ugly link, I don’t know how to make it pretty)

A/N: Hi again guys! Here’s part 2 of my fic ‘Exchange Romance’. I’m not sure how many parts there will be but I have ideas for at least three more. They’ll be roughly one for each month of Betty’s exchange but maybe more if I think of something exciting to happen. Sorry if there are some mistakes as I edited this myself. Also a huge thanks for all of the love on the first part <3

Summary: Jughead asks Betty out on their first date, but how will the night end?

Word count: 3528

A week after Betty and Jughead told, or showed, Archie they were together, they found themselves alone at the Lodge’s apartment. They were sitting on opposite sides of the dining table, surrounded by numerous books and sheets of paper. Betty was copying out notes from one of yesterday’s classes while Jughead typed away on his laptop. The sounds of his fingers on the keyboard interrupted only by the occasional flipping of a page or tapping of a pen.

“Betts.” Jughead said. The room was left in perfect silence as his fingers stopped pressing on the keys. He looked up at the girl sitting across from him. Her hair was hastily piled on top of her head and her glasses sat slightly askew on the bridge of her nose. Jughead couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked, trapped in her own little world and completely oblivious to her surroundings.

“Mhmm.” Mumbled the blonde, eyes trained on the page in front of her until she’d finished her sentence. “What’s up Jug?”

“Um, I was just wondering, I have two tickets to a double feature at the Bijou on Friday. Do you wanna go? With, umm, with me?” He asked, his hand reaching up to grip the back of his neck as he kept his eyes locked on hers.

“Jughead Jones, are you asking me on a date?” Betty’s voice was playful and the way she said his name made his heart pound. “Only if you’re going to say yes.” He noticed the way her green eyes sparkled when she smiled and before he knew what was happening, she’d leaned across the table and kissed him gently.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Her face remained just inches from his and he kissed her right back, hands reaching up to cup her face and bring her closer. She leant further across the table and ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

“Why hello there.” Veronica’s voice startled Betty and she leapt away from Jughead, slipping out off her chair in the process and landing on the soft carpet with a loud thud. “Don’t mind me, just passing through.” She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl at the end of the table and left with a wink, thoroughly amused by the reaction of her new friend.

——————–

The next few days seemed to be never ending, much to Betty’s disappointment. Veronica waltzed into the blonde’s room late on Thursday night and sat down on the large bed without invitation. Betty, who was reading in the comfy chair in the corner, looked up at her friend.

“Everything alright V?” she questioned, closing her book and moving across the room to sit next to the raven haired princess. “No everything’s not alright B. You have a date with Jughead tomorrow and you didn’t even tell me! I had to find out from Archie. Do you know how embarrassing that was Betty? Totally mortifying.” Ronnie sounded exasperated as she put her hand up to her forehead in mock shame but Betty knew she was playing it up. She pulled her host sister into a tight hug from the side and looked up at her pleadingly.

“Oh V, whatever can I do to make it up to you?” The shorter girl’s eyes sparkled and Betty immediately regretted asking. She was probably going to ask to tag along to take photos or something else equally mortifying.

“I want to help you get ready and no protests because I know this is your first date. I’ll help you knock off beanie boy’s socks. Sound good?” Veronica asked, pulling out of the hug to stare Betty down.

“Ok fine. But, we’ll only have half an hour to get ready because the movie starts at five.” The blonde decided it was easier to give in than to try and argue and make it worse she was getting used to Ronnie’s tactics and decided this was probably as good as it was going to get.

“Yay! He won’t even recognise you once I’m done with you. 30 minutes probably isn’t enough time but I’m sure we can make it work. Sweet dreams B.” She stood up and was out of the room before Betty had time to reply. She went back over to the chair to try and continue reading her book but the butterflies in her stomach were too distracting.

——————–

The next school day was agonising slow and Betty found herself unable to focus on anything that her teachers were saying as she absentmindedly drew tiny crowns in the corners of all her books. Ronnie rushed her home and then didn’t waste anytime before sitting her down and applying various creams and powders to her skin. Veronica wouldn’t let her look in the mirror so Betty kept her fingers tightly crossed the whole time.

“Voila! Oh my god, Jughead is going to lose it when he sees you. Even I’m jealous. You look so fab B!” She let out a little squeal before grabbing a small mirror and handing it to Betty.

“Wow.” She let out a awe-filled gasp at the sight of her reflection. Betty had expected Ronnie to overdo the makeup big time with extravagant colours or dark smokey eyes but it almost looked as though she didn’t have any makeup on. Her eyes looked bigger and greener than normal while her lips looked soft and full. Her hair was out of it’s usual ponytail and in soft waves that fell around her shoulders. “Thank you so much V, this is incredible.” She stood up out of her chair and pulled her friend into a hug, squeezing tightly before Ronnie broke away.

“You only have five minutes until Jughead is supposed to get here so go and put this on. Ronnie handed her a long green dress that matched her eyes. She flashed a small smile at Veronica before hurrying out of the room to get changed. The dress fit like a glove and hugged in all the right places without being too flashy for a night at the movies. Betty had severely underestimated Ronnie. She smiled as she looked in the mirror and woke up the butterflies in her stomach again as she thought about what Jughead would think. Just as she turned to walk out of her room and show Veronica, the doorbell rang.

——————–

Jughead stood waiting outside the door, one hand in his pocket the the other fiddling with his hair. It felt strange to be without his beanie but he knew Betty would appreciate it. After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened. He quickly dropped his hand from his hair and shoved it in his other pocket. Jughead’s face fell slightly when it revealed Veronica on the other side but she pretended not to notice and ushered him inside.

“Hey Ron. Have you seen Betts? We need to go soon if we’re gonna catch the start of the first movie.” Jughead said as he sat down on the edge of the couch, his knee bobbing up and down.

“You know that the first half hour is always ads but Betty should be out in a sec. Although I must say, Jug, you clean up well.” His cheeks turned slightly pink as he reached up to fiddle with his hair again. He was just wondering if it was a bad idea leaving his beanie when Betty walked through the door and he forgot how to breathe. She looked gorgeous. The dress, the hair, the makeup, everything. He had a feeling that Ronnie had something to do with it but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He stood up and walked towards her, his hands reaching forward to hold hers.

“You look stunning Betts” he whispered as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“Right back at you Juggie” she replied, copying his tone. Her eyes taking in his white shirt and suspenders which showed off his toned arms in a way she hadn’t noticed before. “What happened to your beanie?”

“I think I can manage without it for one night.” He smiled up at her and the butterflies in stomach started fluttering like never before. Jughead pulled back first and stood beside her, still holding one her hands and suddenly very aware of Veronica, who was pretending that she wasn’t watching them from the couch. “Ok, we’re off Ron. See you at Pop’s after?”

“Yep. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The black haired girl looked over at the pair with a large smile on her face which Betty knew to mean that she was scheming about something. Every thought of Ronnie escaped her mind as the handsome boy next to her slipped his arm around her waist to lead her out the door.

——————–

Ronnie was bored. Her parents were out at yet another event and ‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians’ wasn’t starting for another hour. She reached out her phone a speed dialed Archie, who picked up on the first ring.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He sounded like he was slightly out of breath so Ronnie figured he was probably out for a run.

“Not much. I’m just bored. Do you want to come over? My parents are out.” “Yeah sure. Just let me have a shower and then I’ll be over in half an hour. That work for you?”

“Why wouldn’t it? See you soon. Bye.”

“Bye babe.”

Ronnie busied herself by painting her nails until she heard Archie knock on the door. “It’s open!” She yelled out, closing the bottle of polish with her semi-dry nails in a practiced motion. Archie came and sat down next to his girlfriend on the couch, kissing her as a way of greeting. She kissed back but then stopped abruptly and pulled away.

“Everything alright babe?” Archie asked, the worry evident on his face.

“Everything is fine babe. I just wanted to talk about Jug and B.”

“Oh yeah, he’s taking her to the movies tonight right?”

“Yeah, they left just before I called you. Why is he taking her to the movies? They watch movies all the time. They even did it before they were a ‘together’.”

“Wait, what’s the date today?”

“2nd of October. What’s the date got to do with anything?”

“It’s Jughead’s birthday. You know how he always goes to the Bijou to watch double feature today. Normally I go with him but I guess things are a bit different this year.”

“WHAT! But Betty doesn’t even know? She hasn’t gotten him a present or anything! Oh my god she’s going to freak! I have to tell her just gimme a minute to find my phone.” She started to get up off the couch but Archie grabbed her arm and dragged her down to sit on his lap. His thumb drew small circles on the back of her hand as she leaned into him

“You’ve gotta let him tell her Ronnie. You know how he is about his birthday. I get why he didn’t tell her but even the fact that he invited her to the movies with him is a pretty big deal. I knew he liked her but I didn’t realise he liked her this much.”

“I have an idea.” Archie stopped moving his thumb as Ronnie pulled away slightly.

“Ronnie, you know that we’ve talked about your scheming before. Jug asked me to try and make sure you don’t do anything stupid that’ll end up getting in between them.”

“That’s cute that he thinks you can stop me from scheming Archiekins. Don’t worry, there’s no way this plan will backfire. Trust me.”

——————–

By the time the final credits rolled in the theater it was dark outside. Jughead and Betty took their time getting out of the theatre, neither of them wanting to join back up with their friends and end their date. They held hands as they walked, arms swaying loosely. A comfortable silence had fallen over them as they made their way to Pop’s. The only interruption the bing of Jughead’s phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and laughed when he read the text on the screen. He handed it over to Betty who read it out loud.

“Hey Jug, Ronnie’s staying over tonight coz Dad’s out. Any chance u could stay with Betty?” She let out a laugh before handing him his phone back. “Now I know why Ronnie was flashing around her scheming smile before we left.”

“She has a scheming smile?”

“Have you even met Ronnie? Of course she has a scheming smile!” She bumped into his side softly and then went quiet as she stared down at her feet. “You can come over if you want.” Her voice was soft as a whisper as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and nervous.

“I would love to Betts.” He stated as he took his hand from hers and moved it around her shoulder before kissing the top of her head. She practically melted into him and found herself wishing she live in this moment forever. Walking aimlessly in the cool autumn air, wrapped up in his arms. She felt safe. She felt at home.

“Should we go to Pop’s or just order in?” She asked, pulling away slightly to look up at him.

“I think Pop’s. We’re almost there anyway.” Jughead pulled her back into his side and they stayed like that until the red glow of the diner lit up their faces.

——————–

It was 11pm by the time they got back to the Lodge’s apartment. They were both exhausted but neither of them wanted to admit it and bring their magical evening to an end. Betty unlocked the door and then dragged Jughead to the couch with the intention of watching a movie. Neither of them felt like moving once they’d sat down so instead they stared up at the black screen, making the most of their closeness. She was laying down with her head on his lap as his fingers ran through her hair, just like they were before he’d kissed her for the first time. Even though it was the same, it felt different, more intimate. Her eyelids started to feel heavy and she closed them for what she swore was just a second. After that she was vaguely aware of Jughead picking her up and carrying her to her room before setting her down on her bed. He pulled off her shoes and then tucked her under the covers. Betty found herself wondering if he’d done this before. Jughead then bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight Betts.” He whispered in her ear before turning to walk out of the room. Betty reached out and grabbed his hand, forcing him to turn and face her.

“Jug, could you stay?” Her words were distorted with sleep but they still made him smile.

“Anything for you Betts.” Jughead took off his shoes and then lay down behind her, his arm falling over her hip to hold her hand. “Thank you for the perfect birthday.” He said into her hair, so softly he wasn’t even sure if he’d said it out loud.

“Happy Birthday Juggie.” Betty replied before falling into a peaceful slumber.

——————–

Veronica quietly opened the front door of the apartment in the early hours of the morning. High heels in hand as her stockinged feet padded softly along the expensive wooden floor. The door to Betty’s bedroom was half open so Ronnie took it upon herself to make sure her plan had worked. Sure enough, the two teens were lying under the covers, arms wrapped around each other and bodies pressed together. Ronnie quietly stepped back out of the room, pulling her phone out of her pocket to text Archie what had come of her scheme.

——————–

Betty woke up early and rolled over to find herself face to face with Jughead. She smiled and couldn’t help but think that this was what she wanted to wake up to every morning; this tall dark haired boy in front of her with his messy hair and the lazy smile that played on his lips. She kissed him softly and then snuck out of the sheets to get changed.

Jughead woke up in the middle of the morning, the smell of bacon and maple syrup filled the room. The bed seemed empty without a certain blonde lying next to him so he unwrapped himself from the covers in order to search for her. He found her in the kitchen. She’d changed out of her green dress into sweatpants and a large t-shirt. Her hair was back up in it’s usual ponytail. Jughead found her so effortlessly beautiful that it left him speechless. He watched her from the doorway for a few seconds. She was dancing by the stove top, singing loudly to an upbeat song he didn’t recognise.

“Hey there Betts.” He had to yell from his spot by the door to be heard over the music and it made her jump.

“Holy crap Jug! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He laughed as he walked towards her. She hit his arm playfully when he reached over her to grab some bacon out of the pan.

“What’s all this for?” He asked through a mouthful of bacon.

“Well, you know how you told me last night it was your birthday? We didn’t do anything special so I wanted to make it up to you by making you breakfast.” An absent-minded smile played on her lips as she fiddled with the collar of his crinkled shirt. “Thanks Betts but you really didn’t have to. Last night was the best thing you could that you could’ve given me. Thank you.” He leaned down and kissed her, softly at first but then with increasing urgency once she responded.

“Ahem, morning lovebirds.” Veronica’s unannounced entrance splitting them apart once again as she sauntered over to the bench to pour herself some coffee. Betty turned around and busied herself with the pancakes while Jughead suddenly became fascinated in the ornate fruit bowl. “Relax you guys I’m only joking, kind of. How was your night?” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently over the top of her coffee mug, taking a long sip whilst somehow maintaining eye contact with both of them at the same time.

“It was really fun thanks V. I would ask you the same but I don’t think I want to know.” Betty replied, turning off the element and she slid the last pancake out of the pan.

“Touche B. Hope you had a nice birthday Jughead with your girlfriend Jughead!” Ronnie called over her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen, her large coffee mug still grasped between her hands. Betty and Jughead looked at each other and blushed. They ate their pancakes without much conversation and Betty was reminded of the feeling that she had last night. She found herself thinking that more and more when she was with Jughead. How much she would love to just be with him forever and ever. A smile claimed her lips as she got a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Suddenly, she realised something; she was falling for Jughead.

——————–

Archie found his dad in the kitchen making coffee when he went down for breakfast.

“Hey Dad.” Archie said sleepily as he stretched his arms.

“Hi son. How did you sleep?” The red headed boy froze mid stretch but managed to play it cool, hoping his Dad hadn’t noticed. He turned towards the cupboard to try and find his cereal. “Pretty uneventful.”

“Glad to hear it. Hey, um, you haven’t seen Jughead around this morning have you?” Archie’s face turned the same colour as his hair as he tried to think of good excuse. He didn’t have an issue lying to his Dad he was just awful at thinking on the spot.

“He, umm, I think he said something about going to get some milk.”

“Huh. Well that’s interesting since I did the shopping yesterday.” Fred managed to catch his son’s gaze and saw the panic in his eyes. “Come one bud, where was he really?”

“Ok fine. Jughead spent the night at Betty’s house, well, Ronnie’s house I guess.” Fred was a bit taken aback by how quickly his son had cracked. His answer, however, didn’t surprise him at all.

“Oh ok. She seems like a nice girl. Are her and Jughead getting serious or…” He let the question hang open, knowing that his son would supply an answer.

“Well not serious serious. They only had their first date last night but he took her to the Bijou for a double feature and it was his birthday. That’s pretty serious for Jughead. I think he really likes her Dad. She makes him really happy.”

“I’m glad that he’s happy, I really am. Jughead needs something good in his life at the moment so I’m happy that she’s come around. I just, I just don’t want to see him get hurt, that’s all.” And with that he walked out of the kitchen, abandoning his untouched coffee on the counter, leaving Archie to keep searching for his cereal.

#exchange romance #bughead fanfiction #bughead fluff #bughead #riverdale #betty cooper #jughead jones #veronica lodge #archie andrews #fred andrews #alex's writing struggles #varchie

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thechocobros · 7 years

Text

“SEE LUNA SAFE TO ALTISSIA” - part 7

Pair: Nyx Ulric / Lunafreya Nox Fleuret

Previously: For some reasons, if I insert the Ao3 link here, the post doesn’t show up in the tags. So if you want the previous chapters, just message me privately ;)

Words: 4785

Plot: Luna and Nyx didn’t fell in the Empire’s trap, Nyx didn’t had to use the ring and he survived. What would have happened if Nyx really had the chance to ‘see Luna safe to Altissia’, like he promised to Regis? Here the part 7: Galdin Quay. Magic atmosphere. Dancing. Dino shipping Lunyx in the background. What do you expect to happen? ;)

I have to thank again my beta reader @loveiscosmicsin … and this time. OMG. THE ART. Look at the art this time. @ramibriidge for the drawing and @viianki (yeah, we pulled you in all this too!) for the coloring <3

What an amazing staff I have beyond the curtains <3 I feel blessed.

Somehow, Dino monopolized their attention for the rest of the day. He offered to pay for their drinks and Coctura cooked dishes from the freshest caught seafood they could ever eat. From the water and straight to the frying pan as the chef put it simply. In spite of first impressions, Dino was quite an enjoyable company – if you were ready to ignore his sad flirting attempts with basically every living girl around him. He traveled a lot in his life so he could entertained them with spicy anecdotes about almost everything. For his own sake, he didn’t dare to comment the delicate relationship between the Oracle and the Glaive anymore, but he kept observing every move of them, every eye contact and every slightly touch. That was a bit weird but both Luna and Nyx learned to deal with it pretty fast. Only when the evening came, Dino offered another drink to Lunafreya and left her with Coctura while he casually took Nyx’s arm and whispered: “Can I talk with you for a second?” Nyx was creeped by what the question could possibly imply but didn’t have other choice than please him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as they reached the pier.

Dino smirked and took a key out of his pocket, placing it into the Glaive’s hand. Then he sneered, “You’re gonna thank me one day.”

“If this is what I think it is, I –”

“You’ll gonna owe me big one day, I know.”

“This is getting embarrassing. Me and the Princess, not what you’re thinking and I would neve–”

“Oh, sure, like you can fool me. Anyway, how you use it is up to you. Haven’t you two ever shared a room?”

“Yeah, we did but–”

“So what’s the problem? Look, you have to sleep somewhere, right? Don’t overthink too much, it doesn’t help you.”

Nyx sighed but in the end accepted the key. “Why are you doing it?”

Dino shrugged. “I could write another article about the way I recognize gems among tons of useless stones but… maybe the truth is that I just understand when a man needs help with a girl.”

Nyx bit his down lip and admitted, “That is not a simple girl I can pick up and then let go. That is the Princess. That is the Oracle of Eos.”

Dino seemed deeply puzzled by the insinuation: “Well, beyond that, isn’t she just a girl, anyway?”

Nyx smiled, putting the key in his pocket. “You are not as stupid as you look.”

Later that night, the music was played to entertain the clients and Galdin Quay got even more magical. The soft lights painted in red, orange and yellow the water of ocean, the air smelled like sea and cocktails, the gentle breeze caressed the skin of them all. Luna was so carried away by the atmosphere that she almost forgot her problems. Coctura was constantly excited of being in her company and spoiled her in every possible way, so hunger was the least concern on Luna’s mind tonight.

Nyx decided to stay a bit in the distance instead, watching over her as always, but in the most discreet way. He just knew that she preferred like that right now because of the ‘dream’ and of course he was right. Luna was kind of relieved in not having him around, constantly remembering the sensual moments they shared in the dream. Yet, she looked in his direction every time she could, just to be sure he was still there, never abandoning her. And when she got the confirmation of that, her heart warmed up more than it should have.

After two hours of watching the local band playing music, Lunafreya sighed. Coctura was fun, but all she discussed was about food or recipes while Dino was flirting with a blond girl on the bridge and he didn’t seemed to have any interest in conversing with someone else. In the end, Luna got bored and had to go back to Nyx.

“Maybe I should retire for the night.”

“Really? It’s still early and the night life here is amazing” Nyx said, revealing how much he was enjoying the music and the atmosphere. “You should stay a bit more.”

"I have nothing to do.”

“You could dance.”

“And with who? You?”

Nyx raised his eyebrows and sighed, going back to look to the distance. "Wouldn’t that be nice…”

Luna’s first attempt of making a joke ended in a huge failure, because nobody there was laughing at all. On the contrary, it looked like she just putted salt on a open wound.

“Nyx, I cannot hold my tongue on this any longer. I’m truly sorry about that dream” she started, whispering in a neutral tone, “I don’t know how it happened and I couldn’t control it at the time. I’m also sorry for telling you and for every discourteous act that came right after. Maybe we should both forget about all this and go back to our usual professional relationship.”

Nyx swallowed and smiled, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "Sure. At least until the next time we can have a conversation without you being snappy with me or red in the face to tell me what’s going on.”

Luna rolled her eyes. "Yes, this is exactly what I wanted to apologize about.”

"It’s okay. If we go back to our professional relationship, may I have this dance?”

Luna froze and faltered. "Ah, I…”

Nyx tried again: "Very professional dancing, I mean. I’ll just take it as the olive branch. You know, peace.”

The princess closed her eyes and hid the lips beyond her hand. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, but she also knew what was her duty to do and the two things didn’t coincide.

“Just one quick dance…” she said in the end, hoping that her heart and her mind would have accept such a compromise.

For Nyx it was enough: he tendered his hand, waiting for her to take it. She did it with a certain reluctance and regretted it immediately after, understanding where this would have lead in the moment she noticed Dino glancing at them with a victorious smile, raising his glass in the air.

Nyx didn’t ever had a lot of dancing experience, but the battles of the past forged his body for every kind of movement, so he didn’t take a lot before settling for the dance. He rested a hand on Luna’s waist without looking shy, on the contrary, he searched for Luna’s eyes to sense if that wasn’t too much for her to bear.

Her cheeks were already burning hot, but she didn’t try to escape. She just positioned herself for the dance as the etiquette required and started on. The music was a soft jazz, which didn’t give them the opportunity to really keep the distance.

"Like I said before, Princess, it’s just a dance between two professional people. You can relax. And more, nobody except Dino and Coctura recognized us, so you can just enjoy the moment without fearing of ruining your reputation with a miserable Glaive like me.”

Luna took a deep breath and realized he was right. She was just too tense, so she relaxed her muscles and got closer to him, resting in the end her cheek on his shoulder. "A miserable Glaive…” she smiled. An unexpected feeling of protection and tranquillity invested her, making her closing her eyes. “You’re far from that.”

When a minute has passed and Nyx was sure she wouldn’t have freak out, he tightened his arms around her, smelling the sweet perfume of her hair mixed with the one of the salted sea. He was never been so close to her and the new experience lit up senses he didn’t even know he had. Suddenly, he felt everything at once. Like supernatural powers triggered by her closeness, his taste, sight, hearing, touch, smell were amplified, and at the same time he also experimented the electrical and magnetic vibes she radiated, enjoying them like a breath of fresh air.

"Yeah? What do you think I am?” he asked, knowing that yes, he was such a miserable Glaive. For wanting a woman that was not his to have. “Just tell me if I’m getting warmer or colder.”

Luna placed her arms around him and shook her head. She started to think and think, and the line of her thoughts got darker as the time passed. "Nyx,” she whispered when the song was almost over. She stood on the tips of her toes, reaching his cheek and slightly kissing him right were his small tattoo was. The Glaive almost felt his heart explode in pure joy but totally froze when he heard she saying: “Once we arrive in Tenebrae, I’ll be safe. I won’t need a bodyguard anymore. We should go separate paths. I’m sorry.”

And then, she abandoned his arms and ran away.

Nyx was so shocked he couldn’t move until Dino came, clearly worried by the scene he just watched.

“Whoa, buddy, what the hell happened? Not even the girls I flirt with run away like that! How did you screw up such a perfect opportunity?”

Nyx wasn’t even able to answer. He was just trying to realize the real sense of what Luna just told him, but actually there was no sense at all. He just couldn’t believe at what he heard. Being safe in Tenebrae? No needing a bodyguard anymore? Getting separate? Three sentences hurt him like a stone squashing on his heart, destroying his expectations, mortifying his pride. Nyx mentally knew she never needed him, but in fact, all he hoped was to prove himself worthy of protecting her and cherish her even if he was just a mere immigrant Glaive, with no title and no magic to make him special.

"Hey big guy, are you listening to me? The suite is already paid for the night, you better solve your problem because I’m not getting that refund back.”

Nyx stared blankly at the man before him, thinking about the details he didn’t notice before: the princess’s sad eyes as he watched him, the soft kiss on the cheek which felt like a goodbye.

“Hello! Could you please act like a man and run after her?” Dino screamed in the end, cupping the hands on his mouth like he was using a amplifier. Nyx caught a deep breath and finally straightened up. “Good boy! Now go! Go!”

And Nyx did so. He turned on his heels and followed the Princess down the bridge, until his feet met the white sand. The full moon was ready to illuminate his path, like it was giving him a sort of blessing.

Luna took her sandals off, walking fast in the sea to scroll away the tension and the sadness. The water was warm also at that time of the night, sparkling under the shining moon and the air was so restoring she already felt better. That until she heard him calling her name. “Princess!” She turned around, feeling tears wetting her eyes.

“Go away!” and quickened her pace.

Nyx took really a short while to reach for her, entering in the water like he didn’t care of getting his boots soaking wet. “The hell I will!” He was pretty upset, she could tell only by the sound of his voice. When she saw his face though, Luna realized he was deeply mortified, too. “Have you lost your mind? What crazy idea did you come up with this time? Going on with the journey alone?”

She hadn’t the courage to talk to his face so she turned around a bit and looked down. “Nyx, you just can’t be my bodyguard forever, it’s too…”

“Embarrassing? Inappropriate? Dangerous?”

"Complicated.”

Nyx opened his mouth, closed it again, squeezed the eyes and pointed at the restaurant at his back. “So that’s the professionalism you were talking about just a couple of minutes ago? Wow, the coherence!”

“I’m just trying to do what’s best for both of us and for the rest of the world as well!” Her voice raised in the air a bit more, in a tone of frustrated sadness which was not usual to her.

“I don’t care about me and I don’t care about the world either, because I made a promise to my king to see you safe to Altissia and that I will, even if I’ll have to follow you around against your will.”

“Well, technically, your king isn’t Regis anymore so speaking about duties to the Crown, I’m certain Noctis would be enchanted to know how far you are ready to go just to ‘protect’ me!”

Nyx wide opened his eyes, in a very comical expression: “Excuse me? Are you trying to blame me for doing my job?” He got closer, leaning down on her to see her face in the darkness but she tried to step back, giving up when she noticed she couldn’t hide anymore.

She raised her hand and closed her eyes. “That’s not what I wanted to–!”

"YOU’RE the one having dirty dreams about ME and now I’M the one going too far!”

“Yes, having that dream was my fault but you certainly didn’t help me, with all your teasing and at the same time, being… kind!” She was so desperate she was getting ridiculous, causing Nyx to be even more confused.

“Are you saying I was wrong being nice to you?”

“No!”

“Then I don’t get the point you’re driving at.”

“My point is that I can’t control myself when you are around and this not only scares me but it’s wrong!” she blurted out in the end. “The more I want to be professional, the more I end up closer to you and this can’t lead to anything good. I can’t have it, Nyx. I just can’t. For so many reasons I can’t even start to explain!”

Nyx waited for her to finish the sentence with the mouth open in surprise, then he slowly shook his head and lowered his voice, even if he was still strongly upset when he answered:

“Listen, Princess. We don’t know each other for long, but I dare to say I understood a lot about you, more than you think. And you know what impression you made to me?” He looked her straight in the eyes, with a burning resolution, “You’re a frustrated woman.” Luna tried to reply but he cut her down with a light move of the hand. “Don’t even try to deny it! You’re a frustrated woman. You sold your body and soul to an important cause, and even though this is admirable, you now discover that beyond the façade of the ‘holy Oracle who will save the world with her merciful deeds’ you are just a normal girl which is scared by Kenny Crow and likes to listen to all kind of music on the radio! You love life, even if you’re ready to sacrifice it to appear like the most flawless being of all time and you inspire people. I’m not surprised that with all the people in the world you’re attracted by me - a common immigrant who joined the Kingsglaive as a sign of gratitude for the person who helped him - because for the first time in forever, with me you can do what you really want and not what other people tell you to do. With me you can be yourself and not what other people expect you to be!”

He marked every word with a tenacious gesture and looked at her, talking with his heart in his sleeve. He was so brutally honest, so perfectly sincere, Luna couldn’t help but feel touched. Nobody ever talked to her like that.

"Nyx, I–“

"I’ve not finished, because I want you to know that I know you hide things from me, which probably means I don’t have the whole picture of the situation. But one thing is clear, Princess: you-should-live-your-own-life!” At that point of the preach, he was warming up a bit too much, and almost screamed: “Why do you think you don’t deserve it? After being hostage of Niflheim for years, after being used as a bait in Insomnia’s fall, after being idolized by people, after all the fights you fought in secret, after being the only inspiration of Eos; why do you still think you don’t deserve to be selfish sometimes and do what the hell you want?” He took out of his shirt the necklace with the Ring of Lucis hung on it and showed it to her. “I accepted to take this for you only because I wanted to give you a break, for the Astrals’ sake! You should give the same opportunity to yourself, too!”

After all that yelling, Luna was almost crying, swallowing down every word she wanted to say because it wouldn’t have make justice to the purity of heart Nyx let blow out in that very moment.

For a minute, there was only silence, interrupted by the low crashing of the waves of the ocean.

Then, Nyx sighed and turned around, moving away.

Luna didn’t expected it and screamed in a broken voice, “W-where are you going now?”

“Where do you think? I’m going to sit on the sand, and watch over you, business as usual!” he answered, opening his arms, still very upset. “I told you I will never let you go!”

And so he did. He got out of the water, sat on the beach, trying to recuperate his composure. He took awhile, since he didn’t get so mad since he argued with Selena years before. Exactly like his little sister, Luna was stubborn and spoiled, but she was also more layered and complicated which made Nyx’s job of standing by her side very difficult.

He took a deep and frustrated breath and finally felt better. Looking at the distant figure of the Princess in the water also helped in the end, because if he could ignore the argument they just had, he should have admitted that it was the perfect picture, pure art. Everything of her was perfect: the way she looked at the moon in the distance with a thoughtful expression, the shape of her slender body, the way she let her hair down on her shoulders and turned in his direction.

Nyx swallowed hard.

All the imperfections he - and probably only he - noticed made her so real and so perfect, and such a perfection only hurt him more in the end, knowing she was not something that would have ever been under his reach. Yet, she slowly came out of the water, beautiful under the moonlight like the goddess she used to represent.

Nyx watched her without saying a word, he totally fell under her spell. “Can I sit by you?” she asked after awhile. She was calm now, and even a bit sad. Nyx couldn’t tell if he nodded in response or what, but Luna sat down next to him anyway. Her breath was regular, barely audible because of the waves of the sea and so was his.

“About what you just said…” Luna started, “Every single word was a knife in the stomach but… I fear you are right. Yes. I think I really fear it.”

Nyx couldn’t say a word, her profile was just so ethereal to watch, he was captured by her words and couldn’t react. “My duty is my destiny, Nyx. I held on to this my whole life and I just… can’t imagine myself without it. Not only this, but people are depending on me. Helping Noctis and supporting him during in his ascension means giving hope to the whole world and I can’t falter especially now. Knowing all this forged my existence. You’re telling me to live my own life and do whatever I want but… I just can’t. I never actually could.”

Nyx turned around on the sand, casually touching her side with his knee. “But it’s not right. You know that, don’t you?” he asked, lowering his voice to let her know his concern. “You deserve to be happy.”

She looked at him, allowing herself to admire details she never really observed, like the form of his little tattoos, the scars underneath the beard, the braids in his hair, the changing color of his eyes under the moonlight. Suddenly, all those details were so dear to her, because they were part of him.

“Happiness comes in different forms and perhaps mine is in fulfilling my destiny.”

“This is ridiculous…” he murmured, leaning a bit. They were so close now, she could almost hear his heart beating. He had fire in his eyes when he added: “I think you’re smart enough to know what makes you happy.”

Luna felt her heart sunk, her arms going limp, and whole body go weak. Nobody ever gave her so much credit, so much space, or so much freedom.

Surprising herself, she reached for his hand, entwining her fingers in his, looking for warmth. She didn’t care if his skin was rough or if his grip was too strong. She just wanted him again closer and closer, exactly like in the dream which tormented her for two days already. And his body was there in front of her, ready to surrender. If she only would have let him…

“Are you saying all this just because you want to take advantage of me?” she asked instead.

Nyx didn’t even get mad for the insinuation this time, he was just too enchanted by the rare occasions she was cheeky towards him. “No” he answered, very seriously. “If I wanted to take advantage of you, I wouldn’t have get angry when you asked me to leave you without protection, nor I wouldn’t have accepted to see you to Altissia where you’re gonna marry another man.” He raised a hand, caressing her cheek with a surreal gentleness. “…And maybe I wouldn’t have invited you to dance with me and gone off with the brunette who watched me the whole evening.”

That surprised her. “There was a woman watching you?”

Nyx smiled and with that smile he didn’t caressed her cheek: he caressed her heart.

“Remember what King Regis said to you before he died? He wanted you to live happily. And as long as there’s life in me, I will work to make his last wish to come true. Even though it’s not gonna be with me, even though this would damage me, I want you to live happily, Princess. If this doesn’t prove I’m not trying to take advantage of you, I don’t–”

“It’s enough to me.” Luna swallowed, clutching the grip on his shirt: “I’m sorry, I was asking because my whole life men looked at me like that, they used me, they forced me into–”

“It’s okay.” Nyx shushed her, moving the thumb on her lips, while his whole hand was still cupping her cheek. “I didn’t ask for your reasons.” And then he stared at her lips, letting the desire grow stronger. She noticed.

“This is not good. In the end, I will be the one taking advantage of you.”

“Fine with it …” He sighed, too distracted to pay any heed to the warning.

"Let’s enjoy the moment?”

“Let’s enjoy the moment” he agreed.

Luna closed her eyes and opened her mouth, feeling him putting an arm around her waist to pull her closer. They had to move on the sand until they found the right position, but this didn’t stopped them. She touched his biceps, tracing a line to his neck, holding on to it like it was an anchor in the ocean of her bursting feelings. She longed for the kiss she thought would come, but immediately realized when he backed up from it. She opened her eyes and looked at his yearning look, wandering what made him to hesitate now.

“Ask me,” he begged. “I won’t do anything if you don’t ask me.”

Luna’s eyes got wet. “Nyx…” She tightened the grip around his neck and got so close until their lips touched. His breath was smelling like the cocktail Coctura served them before.

“I just want it to be your choice, Princess.”

“It is. Kiss me.”

She didn’t have to repeat it twice. He immediately rushed his nose against her cheek, kissing her opened lips, lingering on it to feel the flavor and the warmth. It tasted like liberation, like they both finally broke down the dam holding back their bursting feelings. Being that her first kiss, Luna didn’t even know how to handle things, so she let him take control, focusing on what she was receiving instead and enjoying every single instant of it. Nyx couldn’t ask for better. Even though he never allowed himself to indulge on that thought, he instinctively knew how to set his Princess on fire. He bit her down lip, and then the upper one and then he kissed her deeply, stealing her breath. Luna had to shrink back a moment to catch some air but he immediately pulled her closer again, forcing the princess to gasp in his mouth. She didn’t dare to escape ever again.

Nyx putted his fingers through her hair, guiding her moves. Then his hands slipped down on her neck, on her breast, until they reached her hips, where they stopped. He gently pushed her down on the beach and after watching her for a second - her golden hair loose on the sand, the innocent expression confused by her first effusion of affection and yet, the big blue eyes eager for him - he leaned down on her and kissed her lips again, this time with more tenderness, knowing she deserved it. The most beautiful flower of all Eos was in his hands and he needed to take care of it.

Luna putted a hand on his chest, exploring his shape, experimenting new sensations, looking for his natural warmth and then stopped when she heard his heart beating. She immediately understood that would always been her favorite sound from now on.

They didn’t stop for a long while, not even caring if someone saw them or if the temperature was getting lower.

They took all the time they need to learn to know each other’s lips, each other’s movements and breathing. Luna didn’t feel like rushing. If kissing a man for the first time meant feeling what she was feeling right now, she wanted to learn and understand every detail of it and she wasn’t ready to halt. Not now, at least. She let him take the lead and followed his instructions. It felt better than she expected.

In the end, it was Nyx the one who decided to stop, when he started to feel the urge to explore her body and give in to basic instincts. It took all the restraint he could muster to pull away.

“Princess,” he whispered, kissing her cheek and then her ear. She shivered deeply and hold on his back, instinctively sinking her nails in his shirt. He smiled and didn’t complain, because even that hurt was pleasure if it came from her. “It’s better if I stop now.”

She sighed and opened her eyes to look straight at him. She found a sweet note on his face, like he was completely satisfied by how that conversation ended and not just that. Like he was proud of her. “… W-why?”

He raised himself up on one elbow, and looked for something in his pocket. Doing so, he had to distance him a bit and Luna already missed having him on her. In the end, Nyx took out the key Dino previously gave him and put it under the moonlight.

Luna wide opened her eyes and started to stutter: “Nyx, w-wait, I–”

Nyx bit his lip and then started laughing.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face!” he said, his beautiful large smile shining only for her. “Relax. It’s not what you think it is. Or better, it is, but I’m not even gonna enter in the room where you will sleep tonight, otherwise I would totally ‘take advantage of you’. I know, big contradiction to what I said a couple minutes ago.”

Luna sighed in relief but at the same time she rested her hands on his chest. She didn’t want to let him go. “And where will you sleep?”

“I’ll pay for another room. Or in the car.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Luna caressed his face, feeling his beard brushing against her fingertips. They were looking in the eyes like it was the last time and Luna couldn’t help but ask: “Just… another kiss before I go?”

That was a request he would have always accepted. Fearing that it was their last moment of intimacy and that next day Luna would have regretted letting her walls down, Nyx kissed her again passionately and it was his deep devotion that she felt safe between his arms unlike any she never was anywhere else.

Whatever it would have come next, it wouldn’t have change what they felt that night. It was wrong, it was useless, it was not fair, yet, it was theirs and only theirs. And they enjoyed every second of it.

#lunyx #nyx ulric #lunafreya nox fleuret #final fantasy xv #kingsglaive

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thedeadflag · 7 years

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Looking For the Magic (Pt 3)

Tentative title for Option B, the magical Witch Fic WIP one-shot I’ve been struggling to finish. I’ll be posting blocks of this with the tags #lookingforthemagic and #witchfic, in case you don’t want a few thousand words muddying up your dash. I think mobile still doesn’t use the ‘read more’ function, so I figure this would be as good a workaround for folks.

Content Warning (for the story as a whole): transphobia, cissexism, physical assault, misogyny, sexual content

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3 under the cut.

Clarke sat on the couch with her head in her hands. She'd long since lost track of time, only knowing it had been dark outside for a long while. It'd been too easy to get lost in thought, and while she generally tried not to let her masochistic streak take over, she felt it was well deserved given the circumstances.

Hell, if only just the past year. She'd nearly killed Anya at the last major gathering, and certainly took her out of commission for a week or two. She'd heard from Lexa about Anya's recovery from her poison. Anya had only fully got back to a hundred percent just recently. If it wasn't for the fact that her abilities were so rare and valued by the coven, she definitely would have been exiled for her actions against Anya.

Anya had been taken to trial over her womanhood of all damn things, and villainized by the coven over the resulting schism in the membership and council, and yet she poisoned Anya at a major gathering without consequence. The thought of her having held a vendetta against Anya due to a need for justice seemed absurd now, given Anya was the one deserving of it, from the coven and from her.

I poisoned her, I almost killed her. I did that to her...I did that, and I slept like a baby...what kind of monster am I? Clarke wondered, roughly wiping at her eyes with the joint of her thumb. What the hell have I become?

Clarke wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that question.

She'd rushed out of Anya's room hours ago to leave Anya to rest up, reaching the front door just as the other woman's muffled screams reached her ears. She'd made for the outdoors, but the front door wouldn't budge, neither would the windows, or the second bedroom. They were still trapped, and it was like she could smell the death and decay around her from all the ways she'd hurt and nearly killed Anya in the past ten months, all the ways she'd promoted the woman's post-vote social isolation as some sick, twisted form of payback for what she thought Anya had done. She'd been so caught up in vengeance and her grudge that she hadn't clued in that maybe all wasn't as it seemed.

And now there they were, both having paid someone else's price many times over, both trapped together still, and both in recovery, if differently.

She wouldn't cry, couldn't cry, not when Anya was suffering one room over. Not when she'd just been brutalizing a weakened, defenseless version of the woman not long ago. Her stomach was rumbling but she couldn't handle eating any more of the pizza Anya made. Just knowing she'd feasted on it, and left Anya heaped on the ground for hours, when the woman had probably been hungry to start with, it all made Clarke feel sick to her stomach.

She wasn't raised to be cruel. She needed to do better, be better. If Anya had faith that she could, then she had to at least try.

"Anya must be so hungry and sore. I...I can help with both." Clarke muttered to herself as she got up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She turned the oven on and got to making a smoothie, figuring the woman could use as much food and nutrients as she could handle.

It wasn't long before she had a nice cool protein smoothie and a bit of reheated pizza in her arms. Her heart quivered in her chest at the knowledge of who was on the other side of the bedroom door, the evidence of what she'd done waiting on the bed, but she pushed past it. Anya deserved better.

Clarke opened the bedroom door and stilled in the doorframe, eyes poring over the scene carefully, not wanting to disrupt the woman if she was sleeping. That question was answered in a moment when Anya reached up a hand, wiped at her face, and carefully sat up against the headboard. "Do I smell food?"

She let out a sigh of relief at being able to put her plan in motion and quickly made her way to bed, hesitating for a moment before taking a seat beside her fellow prisoner. Anya looked to be in better shape, her healing draught seeming to have gotten to work as usual. It was how wet Anya's face was that worried her, knowing it was too cold, and Anya wouldn't be running a fever, so it couldn't be sweat.

"Absolutely. I'm so sorry for depriving you all this time. My head's been scrambled, but it's no excuse. You must be so hungry!" Clarke let out, earning a small nod as those warm brown eyes stared hungrily at the pizza.

She offered the plate out, and Anya quickly set it on her lap and picked up a gooey slice, lifting it to her nose. "Mmmmn, delicious." The woman practically purred before taking a bite of it.

Clarke found herself in the confusing and curious position of feeling blood rush to her cheeks, feeling more and more inconspicuously out of sorts with every delighted moan escaping the woman beside her. If only I could make her that happy... She found herself musing before shutting that thought process down. It wasn't appropriate.

It was an odd sight, though, watching Anya devour three of her pizza bowl slices and then demolish a smoothie, but the look of contentment that spread on Anya's face upon finishing was more than enough to put a smile on Clarke's.

"So I was thinking, your stomach and ribs must still be sore, and while the healing draught's still working away, I don't want you uncomfortable. Should I put together a hot water bottle for you?" She asked, hoping she wasn't rambling or making a ridiculous suggestion.

Thankfully, Anya just gave a small nod, prompting Clarke to hop from the bed and rush out to the kitchen to boil some water. As she waited for the water to cool enough to be poured into the bottle, Clarke found herself thinking back to that night ten months ago.

She'd been so cold and scared, and had been especially mortified when she'd woken up in the middle of the night, but Anya held her. Anya walked her through it, and made sure everything was in order. Anya had comforted her for no reason other than she wanted Clarke to be comforted.

In retrospect, that wasn't the kind of person who could have struck out at her like that, but she'd been naive, easy to manipulate. She was older now, she knew better now. And she had a feeling that together, she and Anya would find who hurt them, who set them against each other, and would make them pay.

But for now, she wanted Anya to feel the way she had back then. So when she returned to the bedroom with the hot water bottle, she couldn't quite will herself to leave. And when Anya turned onto her side, away from Clarke, and slipped a hand under the pillow, she saw an opportunity.

"I can hold it against you, if you want. That way, you can get some rest." Clarke mused openly, watching the other woman for the slightest of movements that might declare her presence unwanted. The heavy sigh that escaped Anya almost had her slipping from the bed, but then Anya's other hand took hold of the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders, holding them there, leaving the hot water bottle unattended.

A silent acceptance of her plan.

Clarke thought she'd feel relieved, but she only felt anxious as she slipped under the covers and gently reached her arms around Anya's waist, carefully holding the hot water bottle in place and hugging it against Anya's abdomen. In essence, she was mirroring Anya's position from all those months ago, but it wasn't until Anya scooted ever so slightly backwards into her body that she felt any serenity about it.

Almost a year. Ten lost months where they could have been this close the whole time. Ten months of lost friendship, of suffering, of so many missed opportunities and experiences.

Clarke closed her eyes and pressed her face into the back of Anya's neck, her arms holding the woman a little more snugly. She had a lot to make up for, but for the moment, she felt she was right where she needed to be.

Everything felt hazy and weightless as she regained consciousness after her lengthy second bout of sleep. Honestly, she was almost entirely pain-free, her shoulder feeling fine instead of the fractured mess Clarke had made of it not a day ago.

The sun was setting, meaning it was getting close to twenty four hours since they'd arrived. It'd been a long ass day, but at least there was a silver lining. And that was wrapped around her waist and a long cooled off hot water bottle.

It was a bit of a one-way situation, if she were honest with herself. She knew the disgust Clarke felt for her. It was the one thing keeping her from tossing the hot water bottle out of the way and bringing those soft hands to her waist where a guilty part of her might want them, knowing Clarke introduced that barrier for a specific reason.

She couldn't afford to be selfish when she still had yet to salvage a working relationship with the other woman. After all, they'd have to work together to weed out those who had set them against each other. That meant some level of amicability between them, which despite all the miscommunication, pain, and grave errors in understanding they'd made, Anya was sure could be an obstacle.

Again, Clarke made no secret in the past how her mere presence would ruin the other blonde's day. Anya had witnessed plenty of times the pure disgust flashing across Clarke's face upon seeing her, before the woman could school her features. Anya would accept the minimal comfort Clarke offered and would leave it at that.

But goddess, if she didn't want to just be wrapped up. With all that she'd learned, all the hardships she'd endured, and perhaps aided by her rather simple personal code of morals and ethics, tentative forgiveness had dropped away much of the deep seated feelings of pain and loss. It left her feeling like she had earlier that year in February, yearning for Clarke to smile at her, and yearning to be close to her. They couldn't turn back the clock, but she could try to get back to something close to where they'd been back then.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was twisted given their history and Clarke's violence, but Clarke apologized and showed real remorse. Clarke had been manipulated into being wielded against her. Clarke understood what she did was wrong and wanted to be better. That had resulted in the woman doing what she could to comfort and heal Anya to the best of her abilities, and that was a good first step. That had to count for something with how they both needed to move on from that painful chapter of their lives. And while it was unrealistic to expect things to ramp up to something unexpected, Anya couldn't help how she felt, how her memories of her early-mid teen years kept being drawn to the surface now that she didn’t have the spectre of Clarke’s hostility hanging over her anymore.

It was embarrassing. She was a warrior in their coven. She was the sword the council wielded when they wanted something to burn or bleed, but all she wanted in that moment was for Clarke to hold her close and tell her she'd never be hurt again, that it'd all be okay.

It was absurd, but it was what it was. Anya could deny a lot in life, but she knew her heart, and she knew it well. No point pretending she didn't still feel something for Clarke underneath it all.

Didn't change that she couldn't do anything about it, and that she had the willpower to keep to that resolution. At least barring any unforeseen changes.

Though, when Clarke let out a sleepy, annoyed grunt and pushed the water bottle away, Anya might have been frustrated that her will was being tested so soon. And when Clarke's arms settled all cozy and snug against her waist, all she could do was decide that she'd remain very still and quiet, and let Clarke figure out what to do when she woke.

And, well, Clarke deserved a good bit of rest after everything, too. Mental and emotional trauma needed recuperation as well as anything else.

It was maybe forty-five minutes later when Clarke let out a sleepy groan, which combined with the way the other blonde was nuzzling the back of her neck had her thinking she was waking up. Clarke only needed a few extra seconds to confirm it herself.

"Mmmghhn, what time is it?" Clarke mumbled as arms tightened around Anya's waist, nose trailing a brief path down to the crook of her neck.

"Doesn't matter. Go back to sleep if you're tired." She answered quietly, knowing she could stay where she was indefinitely, even if she could probably make good use of the bathroom.

Clarke's arms detached from her immediately, and the warmth of Clarke's body was gone in half a second, the other blonde scurrying away to the other side of the bed in a panic. Well, I guess that confirms she's still disgusted with me...

"You're not in pain, are you?" Clarke asked, thankfully bringing up a topic she could easily go on about if needed.

"Only slight aches now. Whatever that potion was, it's done wonders." Anya relayed, pulling the covers up over her body from where they'd fallen away. It was winter and, wards or not, the cottage was chilly. She didn't exactly have magic to keep her warm.

"That...that's good. Very good. Are you hungry?" Clarke asked, seeming abnormally scattered. She didn't have to put much thought into it, though, since the sound of Clarke's stomach rumbling was sign enough that one of them was.

"Not really, but you are." She said as she reluctantly got out of bed. "I'll wash up then make something to eat."

Clarke let out a loud huff. "You should be resting!"

"And you should be sleeping still, but I guess it's not in the cards, either." Anya called over her shoulder. By the time she finished in the washroom, Clarke still hadn't left the bedroom, which gave her plenty of space to figure out something to eat.

While she hadn't been Clarke's friend these past years, she did end up getting to know a number of things about the woman through Lexa and the time they were forced to spend near each other at events. Clarke had a deep love for gumbo, the spicier the better, but Anya didn't have the time or ingredients to make it, as she checked around. There was enough for her to make pizza about seven or eight times over, but not so much with gumbo.

But she did know Clarke was a fan of chicken and spicy things, so she went about collecting ingredients for an old southwest wrap recipe she used to make when she had a busier schedule and less time to cook. She wasn't big on spicy stuff after just waking up, so maybe she used an extra pan for her own recipe, but it was worth it.

"What smells heavenly?" She heard from the direction of the bathroom just around when she was finishing up with the wraps, filling Clarke's with some extra chicken before folding the ends.

"Food's up. Chicken wraps." Anya answered, plating both of theirs before taking hers to the living room couch. Mostly because there was a cozy blanket there, and a fireplace nearby if she chose to use it.

She was just getting comfortable under the large blanket when a freshly showered Clarke rounded the couch, plate in hand, and scooted in beside her. Sure, the blanket was large enough to cover the both of them, but Anya could hardly keep from pressing against the armrest, wanting to ensure Clarke had all the space she needed.

Anya could feel Clarke's eyes on her as they ate in silence, leaving her completely unsure what was coming next. She'd slept, gone to the washroom, and will have eaten. Nothing to excuse her from Clarke's presence that would likely come across as polite.

"Are you scared of me?" Anya found herself choking on her wrap once she processed Clarke's words, needing a moment to steady herself and take a drink of water before she could even consider a reply.

"No." It was the truth, though after a quick glance, she could tell Clarke wasn't so convinced.

"Then why did you move away from me? And you couldn't get out of the bedroom fast enough, and when I came into the kitchen to get food, you practically rushed to the couch. Like, I'd get it if you are, obviously, and it wouldn't be my place to tell you not to be." Clarke detailed, and okay, perhaps that interpretation made a bit more sense, but it wasn't fear driving it. Just a sense of self-preservation and not wanting to have any more of her ego destroyed.

"I'm not scared. I trust you when you say you won't willingly hurt me. I'm merely giving you your space, Clarke. You've made no secret in the past about not wanting to be near me." She explained at length, hoping to just finish the subject and move on to something else or maybe even a comfortable silence.

"But that was when I thought you nearly ruined my life, and were out to get me." Clarke noted, not really addressing the point at hand.

"Regardless, it still leaves all of that clear...disgust...you have for me. Just because I didn't do what you thought I did doesn't erase that gut instinct. I understood why you used the hot water bottle as a barrier, Clarke. I understood, and I appreciated what you did for me, but you don't have to pretend. I'd honestly prefer you don't." Anya rambled as she curled up further into the corner of the couch, wishing she could light a flame from a distance and get a fire going. There was rarely anything better than a warm fire on a cold night.

After a second or two of silence, she dared a glance back at Clarke, catching the other woman gaping at her, appearing entirely astonished for whatever reason. After all, it wasn't as if Clarke kept her emotions hidden.

She'd just turned away when she felt Clarke's hand lightly grasp her shoulder. Anya kept her gaze forward. "Anya, I've...goddess, I've never been disgusted by you. Take your pick from hate, loathe, whatever, but...not that."

"I know what I've seen, Clarke. You don't have to pretend we're working with clean slates in every area when we're not." Anya pushed, needing to have this topic of discussion done and over with. With the way her heart was thudding in her chest from just having Clarke's hand resting against her, she needed to avoid getting any hopes up.

"No, you don't...urgh!" Clarke blurted out, following her attempt at a denial with a long, drawn out groan. "Look, it's really embarrassing, but yeah, I was disgusted. With myself."

Anya's head swiveled unbidden to face the other woman, more out of confusion than anything else. "How does that make any sense?"

"I'd see you, and sometimes it wouldn't register that it was you initially, but then I'd recognize you, and I'd just...I'd disgust myself with how I reacted to seeing you. It wasn't right reacting to my enemy like that, someone who I thought hurt me so much. I figured I shouldn't have felt what I did, but I did, and I hated that. It disgusted me that as much as I hated you, it could never kill the part of me that thought you were..." Clarke rambled, voice trailing off as she stared at her hands, shaking them in the air and biting her lip in clear frustration for whatever word she couldn't seem to speak.

Still, Clarke had opened the door, broken the dam, whatever. She needed to know. "Thought I was what?"

Clarke's blue eyes flitted her way, a defeated sigh escaping her as her cheeks bloomed red. "Ithoughtyouweregorgeous." The woman spoke quickly and quietly, syllables mashed together in a near incomprehensible mess of sound.

It took a few seconds for Anya to make sense of it, but when it clicked, she was fairly certain her cheeks were equally as flushed. "Oh." She added, needing to give some response despite her confusion, seeing Clarke's nerves escalate visibly.

Honestly, it was hard to fathom that all that time, Clarke had been disgusted at feeling attraction towards her. It potentially made a small amount of sense, even if it took some mental gymnastics, but her shy eyes and anxious posture had Anya thinking Clarke was about a second away from imploding from a deadly mix of mortification and rejection, so she couldn't deny it might be the truth.

And honestly, with the truth thrown her way, especially given Clarke didn't have to disclose it, Anya felt a need to balance the scales. "I had the biggest crush on you, growing up." She continued, immediately feeling the intense heat of Clarke's gaze on her as she kept her focus on the fireplace. Anya wasn't sure she could speak the words face to face, but she could at least air them out. "Goddess, I tried to convince myself back then that it was a small thing, but my eyes would always look for you at the events for initiates. And when I was back home...I was a shit drawer, but when I'd sketch, I'd almost always end up doing your eyes. Never felt anyone really saw me, and I guess I just liked imagining...yeah."

Anya shook her head at the memories, at the sheer amount of paper she'd covered, crumpled up, and tossed out in her teens. She'd been the most embarrassing kid.

"Was...was that why you had me share your blankets that night?" Clarke asked hesitantly, the hand returning to Anya's shoulder and giving it a slight rub. It was nice.

"Of course not. You were freezing, you needed to be warm. Besides, I remember thinking you were dating someone back then, so my focus was just on keeping you warm, and maybe if I was lucky, we could end the weekend as friends. And then it turned into just wanting you to know I had your back, that you could trust me, that you were safe." Anya explained, putting to words her generally simple evolving plans that night, in case Clarke had any misunderstanding over her reasons. Sure, helping the pretty girl and maybe having a future shot at a relationship if everything went right and Clarke turned out not to be straight was something she'd considered back then, but she had known full well it was a pipe dream.

Anya was far more practical than that.

Clarke moved off the couch, gathering both of their plates and setting them on the coffee table before heading to the fireplace. Anya watched at the other blonde struggled a bit with the equipment stocked there, unable to hold back a smile at Clarke's unfamiliarity, but there was a fire going after a minute or two. Perhaps it was unsurprising that Clarke was thinking much the same thing as she had, given the temperature, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

It was Clarke slipping under the blanket and cuddling up beside her that had Anya feeling a little faint. "I guess it's my turn to return the favor and keep you warm, then." Clarke whispered as soft arms wrapped around Anya's nearest.

Anya wasn't sure what Clarke's angle was, and that was dangerous, but she couldn't bring herself to care when Clarke was warm, and soft, and smelled kind of wonderful.

"Sounds fair to me."

Clarke was a little proud of herself.

Between waking up clinging to Anya's wounded body, learning Anya thought she was disgusted of her, and learning Anya once had a deep crush on her, Clarke could say she'd been reeling for most of the past hour or so.

And yet, she hadn't lost it. Neither had she ran, or fucked up. Instead, she'd pushed forward, clarified problems, and worked to resolve them. In short, when it came to the prospects of leaving the cottage happy and with a new connection, there was hope for her yet.

The fact that Anya was much more relaxed was also riveting. It'd been ten months since she'd seen the woman with anything remotely resembling happiness or peacefulness across her face, and it was a damn beautiful sight. Not one she deserved, but one she would try to maintain for as long as possible.

"So, maybe you'll have to show me some of your sketches some day, see how they match up to the real thing." Clarke mused, breaking a comfortable silence in hopes of some stimulating dialogue.

The sound that escaped Anya was magical. Not since her childhood had she heard Anya laugh, and it sounded like the heavens opening up, but it was the gleeful, surprised smile that had Clarke utterly mesmerized. Maybe her crush had been deeper than she thought as well, because in that moment, all she wanted to do was keep Anya smiling as often as possible, for as long as possible, with some more laughter if she was lucky.

"Clarke, I told you, I'm shit at drawing. Nowhere near as talented as you on that front. Now, sculptures...that's different, but I was always terrible at sketching, even if I loved trying to replicate the blue of your eyes with my shitty pencil crayons. I was such a dork." Anya said, that smile dimming a little as she bit her lip and cast her gaze at the fire.

It was official: nervous Anya was endearing. It didn't hurt that the woman complimented her, either. It wasn't often anyone praised her art.

"More like adorkable. But I'd really like to see some of your scuptures if you'll let me. I'm sure they're great." Clarke probed, hoping for some affirmation, wanting a sign that maybe she and Anya were on the same page. Besides, Anya wielded the full power of the elements; she could only imagine the kind of nuanced control that could give a sculptor.

Anya let out another melodic laugh, and Clarke had to keep from sagging against her over the sweetness of the sound. "I think we could work out a time for you to come by." Anya added with a smile that was endearingly shy, and god, where was this woman all these years? "If we ever get out of this place, that is."

"Bathroom window was still warded. Guess there's still some condition for us to work through." Clarke noted with a roll of her eyes.

"Goddess, whatever Lexa and Costia concocted, I'm thankful, but they're gonna have some explaining to do when we get out of here." Anya agreed with a slow nod.

Anya's words stilled the thoughts in Clarke's mind, all of her brainpower focusing on a certain t-word. "What?! You're thankful? Even after everything?"

Anya turned her head and shot her the kind of smile you give when someone just asked a stupid question. The low, amused laugh made her inquiry even more worth it. "Especially after everything. I lost ten months of my life, Clarke, on top of so much more. I don't want to waste another second."

Clarke was sure her heart stopped for how silent everything went. Her mind was racing, working furiously determine if that was a sign, if it was an in, if it was a green light for her to test out something she'd been thinking about, to take the opportunity put out before her.

It was when her vision focused enough to see that same soft, warm expression on Anya's face as that night in the hotel that Clarke knew what she had to do.

Clarke flung herself onto Anya, hands lifting to cradle Anya's face as she pressed their lips together. For a split second, Clarke felt a debilitating spike of fear with Anya remaining still against her own. Then the heavens opened up alongside those supple lips, Anya grabbing at Clarke's top and pulling her down against her fellow witch's gloriously limber body.

In all her life she couldn't have imagined Anya would be so receptive. It was like playing a really arousing game of call and response; everything Clarke did, every kiss, every time she nibbled at the woman's lower lip, each time she rocked into her, each time she stroked her cheek, Anya would respond in kind with something of her own. Clarke knew what she was good at, and she wanted to give Anya the best she could offer, but Anya was clearly just as busy trying to learn what Clarke liked.

Her heart melted that much more, adoring that dedication.

And when her hips rocked into Anya, bringing an airy gasp from the woman beneath her, maybe Clarke decided to shift her focus on filling the room with more of those sounds. Anya only made it easier, head shifting to nuzzle Clarke's temple, lips a breath away from her ear, close enough to hear every gasp, hitched breath, moan, and whimper she could elicit. That combined with Anya running hands through her hair, nails down her back, palming at her ass, legs writhing against her own, body trembling and arching into Clarke's?

All she wanted was more, more, more of the intoxicating woman beneath her, and Anya was eager to give.

So when one of Anya's hands put a little space between them, Clarke wasn't discouraged, knowing whatever it was, it was important.

"I have some things I need...in my luggage...and I need a quick shower, and...and then can we take this to the bed where it's comfier?" Anya asked as she caught her breath. Honestly, the question was a bit out of the blue, but Clarke was all too happy to help out, even if it might mean waiting a few minutes.

"Sure thing, babe. Anything you need me to do?" Clarke asked, leaning back and letting Anya amble out from underneath her, head shaking lightly.

She took a moment to catch her breath and stared after Anya as the woman grabbed a set of luggage by the wall and hauled it into the bathroom. Honestly, it all felt fast, switching gears like they were, but the fact was that she spent about a full year with Anya as her sworn enemy and a primary focus for her attention. She probably knew Anya almost as well as Anya knew herself, and vice versa.

They'd shared an intense connection since that night; perhaps it wasn't such a massive switch going from enemies to intimate. And finally being able to act on the physical attraction she'd harbored for years, on top of the emotional attraction to Anya and her softer side? Even if Clarke wasn't sure that part of the woman wouldn't disappear in a flash, never to be seen again?

She wasn't letting go of this, at least not easily.

Clarke made her way to the bedroom and hoped that Lexa still kept her stash where she remembered it.

#witchfic #lookingforthemagic #clanya #clanya fanfiction

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