#I pray people will listen and stop jumping to conclusions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wall-maria-fritz · 2 years

Note

I read your recent Levi fic and I absolutely love your writing??? May I request a canon verse Levi fic too? A fic where the reader is Levi's wife and she visits him at the survey corps and a lot of the people are in awe of her and are shocked finding out the husband she's looking for is Levi? Just some funny fluff! Bonus points for the reader being more soft and affectionate in public with him so we have a cute embarrassed Levi LOL tysm!

The Wife

Levi Ackerman x Reader (Mayyybe some Erwin x Reader?)

Summary: : A particularly breathtaking woman has decided to visit, and gossip is strife in the Scouting Legion.

Warnings: SFW / mentions of a miscarriage

Wordcount: 7.1K

Genre: Tooth rotting FLUFF

A/N: EEEKK this took soo long! But thank you for appreciating my scribbles, anon! I try :> Also, I absolutely LIVE for this request, I'm so glad you asked for it <3

Maria's Scribblings MASTERLIST

Depending on who you are, Sundays in the Scouting Legion either meant you get to finally have your once a week visit to go home and see your family, or-- if you’re Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Ymir, Christa, Reiner, and Bertholdt-- you don’t have a family to go home to, and so you get to spend Sundays lazing around and keeping post in the Legion’s base.

But it isn’t all too bad! Sundays can be quite eventful if you’ve got a good eye for entertainment. Because where Eren is glad he’s finally fucking free of that bastard Jean’s neighing, the rest of the newly minted 104th recruits of the Scouting Legion get to keep themselves up to speed in the military’s juicy, juicy gossip.

And if they’re lucky, Sundays would let them see scandal unfold! In fact, Ymir can’t tell you how many stories she’s heard of Officers’ mistresses visiting the compound. Or of Officers whose wives just visited the morning before, visiting their mistresses the afternoon later!

For Commanding Officers specifically, affairs are fairly easy to spot since most of them don’t leave the compound even on Sundays, thanks to their mountains of paperwork. No one’s judging them though; they are only human after all. And there is an understanding amongst Legion soldiers that a few trysts with prostitutes—like Squad Leader Zacharias’ happy excursions with a woman named ‘Babydoll’-- could slide every now and then considering their lifestyle. The job doesn’t exactly allow for many long term attachments.

There’s also the matter of figuring out which soldier is sleeping with who.

Did that Squad Leader’s subordinate just stay in his office all day? Not even coming out once?

Or perhaps, who may be secretly married with kids without telling anyone, including a fellow Scout that they’ve been sleeping with.

Maybe a few civilian girlfriends here and there.

Once, Bertholdt had to gently lead out a weeping woman who’s apparently fallen pregnant, and was telling a Scout that the child was his.

Now, Mikasa didn’t give a rat’s ass about it all.

Eren just does his job with an almost impressive single-mindedness, but he reacts every now and then.

Armin tries not get too caught up in it all, but he often ends up being the one to unravel whatever compelling mystery-scandal they’ve got, because of course he does.

Bertholdt just listens quietly, so quietly you can hear him praying to the goddesses that their superiors don’t catch them. But he’s also the one who would end up telling Connie, Sasha, and Jean everything once they come back the next day.

Reiner gives a snide comment or two, always trying to rationalize things before jumping to conclusions. He’s probably the only person who’s actually actively listening to Ymir.

Christa hisses at Ymir to stop gossiping about their superiors’ sex lives, that it’s not right. All while secretly curious about the gossip, but never admitting to it.

And Ymir? Ymir just laughs at Christa, and proceeds to gossip some more. She loves this shit. Lives for it even.

“Oh loosen up! It’s literally my only form of entertainment these days,” she would say.

But there was one riveting piece of gossip that’s got them all glued to every word Ymir says. Yes, even Mikasa.

“I swear I heard that Captain Levi’s got a secret girlfriend somewhere! A particularly young girlfriend, in fact.”

“We’re all but three weeks in the Scouts and already, you’re starting a smear campaign on the Captain,” Christa admonishes.

“It’s not a smear campaign if it’s true,” Ymir quips back.

"Uh huh, and who’s your ‘reputable’ source this time?” Reiner chimes in, shaking out a fresh load of hay for the horses. The cadets have been tasked to guard the main gate as well as the stables nearby for the day’s expected visitors and soldiers going in and out of the compound.

“I overheard my Squad Leader whisper about it.” Ymir’s smug snicker was all Christa needed to pause what she’s doing.

In fact, it made them all pause. If the Squad Leaders were whispering about it, then it must hold water.

Mikasa was the first to speak, nonchalantly going back to her task, “Well, I wouldn’t put it past an officer who would openly beat up a helpless man on his knees just to prove a point.” Eren responded by muttered that he was fine.

“Right? Besides, Captain Short Stack’s in clear need of a good lay!” Ymir guffawed, piling onto Mikasa’s spite. This time, it was Christa’s turn to chide.

“Don’t talk about the Captain like that! It’s not right, Ymir. We’re going to get into some serious trouble because of this.” And as long as it’s Christa disagreeing with something, you best believe Reiner would take her side straight away.

“Christa’s right,” he says, Ymir rolling her eyes at the way he puffs out his chest in bravado. “There’s no reason for us to gossip like hens. Besides,” Reiner grins mischievously to his friends, “I heard Commander Erwin's wife is coming today.”

“And so?” Bertholdt raises an eyebrow at him.

Reiner takes his closest friend in a clutch around his arm. “And so, I heard she’s a hot piece of ass, Bertie!”

Annoyed, Bertholdt shakes him off. “Call me Bertie one more time, and I’ll tell Jean you’ve been fantasizing over the girls he draws.” A threat which promptly shuts Reiner up with a conceding gesture.

“The Commander’s married?” Christa asks curiously.

“And how hot is the wife exactly?” Eren nudges Reiner. Reiner would’ve given the younger cadet the low down if it weren’t for Mikasa’s death glares trained right on Reiner’s jugular.

“Err… I’ll tell you another time, Eren.”

Waving her hands in the air, Ymir intervenes. “Yeah and who the hell cares about Commander Erwin’s babe of a wife anyways—put your hand down, Reiner.”

“And I thought you were a woman of culture,” Reiner grumbled.

Ignoring the blonde man, Ymir continued excitedly. “The meat gets juicier! Seems like Captain Levi’s young girlfriend was his lieutenant.”

There was a collective gasp.

“No.” It was the first time Armin spoke. Ymir nodded enthusiastically.

“Yup! Before Petra, she was the only girl in the Special Ops Squad. Handpicked by our esteemed Captain, of course.” Ymir looks to her friends conspiratorially, her eyes conveying what was said between the lines.

“A-are you saying she… had an affair with her superior?” Armin could barely say the words. Very dangerous words.

“And it seems like the Captain got his favorite pregnant and so she had to be quietly dismissed and sent away. My Squad Leader even mentioned catching her leaving his office well into the wee hours of the night. Even spotting matching hickeys on them both.” Ymir snorted. “Who would’ve thought, huh? Captain Levi? She must be a fucking bombshell for the Captain to even notice her. Or a saint. Because who the fuck wants to deal with Captain Scrooge McShorty? Never thought I’d see the day when I’d hear a woman is actually interested in that midget. But I suppose a rank adds a few inches, eh?”

All while Ymir was yapping along, the rest of the cadets were quiet.

“…So the Captain has a kid?” Eren could barely wrap his head around what he just heard. It just doesn’t check out to him. Captain Levi, for all his singular tastes and dangerous temper, did not strike Eren as the type to take advantage of his young subordinates.

Ymir frowned. “Well. From what I heard, she miscarried.”

Armin was still, “That’s not why she was sent away w-was she?”

In a snap, Christa shook her head vehemently. “Stop that! How can you say those nasty things about another woman, Ymir?! From what I know, Squad Leader Klaus doesn’t have the best track record either, so who is he to judge?!” Christa’s little face was contorted in loathing now. And she was right. Klaus’s reputation precedes him, and it certainly isn’t a good one.

Mikasa sighs, standing by Christa comfortingly. She was no avid advocate for the Captain, but she can recognize blatant misogyny when she sees it. “True or not, talk like that has no room in our job description. The Captain’s personal affairs is none of our business, and frankly,” Mikasa’s face scrunches up in disgust. “I’d rather not know. Let’s just finish up here before the next wave of visitors arrive.”

It was then that a soldier from outside Legion perimeters hollers to the cadets to open the main gate; a visitor was to stable their horse. Bertholdt and Reiner jog to yank open the gates to let in a rider with a lady riding side-saddle on pillion as his passenger.

A very pregnant lady riding side-saddle on pillion, indeed.

Hurriedly, Reiner helps the woman down the moment he saw her condition, being the biggest of the bunch. Once he sets her down in a graceful sweep, very careful to be gentle, Reiner was immediately struck frozen to his spot.

This very pregnant lady was absolutely gorgeous.

Her beauty was only accentuated by the pretty smile she offered the strong blonde soldier, when she beamed up at him with a, “Thank you, Cadet. Would you terribly mind showing my steward where he can stable the horse, as well as where he can rest with some food and drink?”

While Reiner was slack-jawed and stupid trying to formulate a coherent answer, the woman’s steward dismounted and handed the lady a full-looking wicker basket. Most likely bearing treats and food for whoever she was visiting in the Scouts, judging by the wonderful smell of baked goods coming from it. Quickly, Bertholdt and Eren swoop in.

“I’ll stable the horse for your steward, ma’am. We’ll give him some fresh hay, too,” Bertholdt says, already getting a hold of the horse’s reins. He looks to the steward, “If you’ll just follow me, sir. I’ll show where the refreshments and the nearest inn are after I stable the horse.”

And Eren, also already dumbstruck by their new lovely visitor, immediately offered to carry the woman’s basket for her. With an equally charming smile, she thanks Bertholdt, and gratefully hands Eren the basket—whose face blooms into a blush when she said he was too kind.

“She’s… so beautiful. Like, in an elegant way,” Christa quietly squeaks to Ymir who, just as in awe, distractedly replied with a, “Must be the pregnancy glow hormones.”

But something makes her stop.

The woman had a wedding ring.

This wasn’t just any pretty visitor, this was a very beautiful married woman come to visit the Scouts who—judging by the fine horse and the personal steward—must be connected to somebody high-ranking indeed.

“Psst! Reiner!” Ymir nudges at the still stuttering oaf. Her eyes dart to the lady then back to Reiner.

“That’s the Commander’s wife!”

Before the realization fully sunk into Reiner’s ogling face, Armin and Mikasa quickly jumped into protocol.

“I presume you are here to visit your husband, ma’am?” Mikasa asks courteously.

The woman smiles kindly, “I am.” Already expecting that she would have to be escorted to her husband’s office, immediately follows with, “His office is at the Commander’s Corridor in the North Wing.��

In a wordless look amongst the Cadets, the 104th immediately recognized that this lady was indeed who they thought she was at her reply. After all, who else would she be visiting in the Commander’s Corridor of all places?

“Alright, Cadet Braun and I will just go up to inform him that you’re here so that you won’t have to climb all the way up. We wouldn’t you to strain yourself, ma’am,” Armin says, taking the woman’s pregnancy into consideration. But the woman said otherwise.

“Oh, no need for that! He’s a busy man, I understand. And he probably won’t take kindly to you kids disturbing his work. Besides,” she says with a twinkle on her eye. “I want to surprise my husband, considering he hasn’t seen me in months.” A hand smooths over her large belly, telling the Cadets exactly what she means. At that, Armin and Christa especially smile back at her, saying they completely understand.

“But do allow us to go ahead and alert him that you’re here. It’s protocol, you see,” Armin said apologetically. The woman just nods and says it’s all fine, as Armin taps at Reiner before they begin to jog up to Commander Erwin’s office.

Turning back to the visitor, Mikasa tells her that as is also protocol, the rest of them would have to escort her up; also so that they could assist her in her climb up. Hardworking as always, Eren eagerly nods with the basket in hand; always ready to serve, as the woman agrees. And so, with Mikasa and Eren leading the group, Christa walks by the woman right behind the two, as Ymir walks at the tail-end of the group.

As they were walking past the courtyard, Christa looks up to the North Wing—the highest of the livable offices in the base—and then looks worriedly to the woman she and her friends were escorting.

“Ma’am? Are you absolutely sure you can climb up? It’s a lot of stairs to the top of the highest office wing. We wouldn’t want to endanger you.” They’ve reached the bottom of the steps leading up to the Commander’s Corridor, cueing Christa and Ymir to flank the pregnant woman in order to support and assist her up; allowing Christa to hold her hand, while Ymir rest a ready hand at the base of her back.

The woman just laughs indulgently. “Don’t worry Cadet, I’m made of tougher stuff than you think.” She winks at Christa.

“I was once a Scout like you, you know.”

“You were a Scout?!” Ymir gasped in surprise. Mikasa gives her a sharp look for the impolite shock in Ymir’s voice. But the woman didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she humored the question.

“Oh yes, how do you think I met my husband? We were in the same squad when we did,” she smiled.

With wide eyes, Eren swivels and starts going up the steps backwards to exclaim, “Damn, you must be really good!” (An action which Mikasa promptly calls out, jabbing him in the side to make him face front.) For her to be a part of the Commander’s Squad, she must at least be an above average soldier.

The woman just gave a modest shrug, “Well, I was already a veteran when I married. So I suppose I was.”

With thoughtful eyes, Christa asks, “It must have been difficult to leave the Scouts. It’s for a happy occasion of course, but I can’t imagine it was ever easy to readjust to a new life.”

The lady purses her lips playfully, her bright eyes looking up in thought. “Weeell, having to be a Scout is pretty darn difficult, I’d say. Especially when I had to serve at the vanguard before I could become a full-fledged veteran. So setting down a Scout’s mantel was fairly easy.” It was a lighthearted but plainly honest answer. Then her face turned solemn. “But I’d say the hardest part was to leave my husband to it all.”

She looks to the young and curious eyes around her. “There’s something about leaving your spouse to the perils of being a Scout that’s terrifying. Knowing that while I’m safely cooped up with his child in my belly, he’s still out there risking his life with no guarantee that he’d make it out alive. It kept me up at night. Especially knowing how truly dangerous those perils are because I, myself have experienced them. And I would wonder, who would look out for him now? Because it was I who looked out for him.” Like a spell broken, she shakes her head, and her brilliant smile comes back to light up her face.

“Yet still, if a little bit of fear and bravery is all it takes to spend a life with him, to be the woman who gets to love him forever, then so be it. My husband is a skilled soldier. I trust that he can take care of himself.”

Christa—and secretly, Mikasa—all but swooned and sighed at how romantic their visitor’s words were. Ymir meanwhile, was eager to hear more as the group was nearing the mezzanine.

“How was it? Dating as soldiers, I mean. I can’t imagine it was particularly welcomed that you were dating the Scout’s top-dog,” Ymir says carefully assisting the woman through the last few steps. The woman wiped at the sweat on her forehead with a kerchief, and took a deep breath; the flight of stairs already getting to her. Still, she gave her usual lovely smile to Ymir.

“The relationship was certainly kept under wraps. People have suspected that I’m dating someone, but they never could figure out who.” She chuckled to herself. “I can’t imagine how not, with the many times I locked myself in my husband’s office to help him with late night ‘paperwork’ back then,” she says with air quotes, grinning at the Cadets’ blushing faces in realization of what she meant.

“And when I finally fell pregnant, and the cat was out of the bag, people couldn’t believe who exactly I was dating either, much less that he’s the father of my child. ‘How could someone like him, be with someone like her,’ they would say,” the woman laughed.

Ymir-- who was positively charmed by their visitor’s warmth and bubbly energy-- scoffed in jest. After all, it only made sense for a lovely woman to fall in love with an equally lovely man.

“Please, you’re a perfect match for Commander Erwin!”

Meanwhile, walking along the Commander’s Corridor, Armin and Bertholdt—who joined them on the way after he finished his errand— had the unfortunate opportunity to spend the walk to Commander Erwin’s office listening to Reiner gush about how beautiful that pregnant visitor they just had was.

“The Commander’s one damn lucky bloke!” Reiner moans, a hand rubbing his face.

“Well what did you expect? Have you seen the Commander? Of course he’d have a gorgeous wife,” Bertholdt replies blandly, already tired of Reiner’s constant groaning.

“And maybe it’s best not to lust after the Commander’s pregnant wife, Reiner,” Armin reminds nervously, eyes darting around in case anyone were to hear Reiner adulations.

Reiner sighed, “You’re right. Besides, if I were husband to a woman like that, I’d make sure to get her pregnant. I’d go absolutely feral, I’d tell ya!” Reiner smirks, elbowing a wincing and a grossed out Armin and Bertholdt.

“Shut up Rei, I don’t want that image in my head,” Bertholdt deadpans.

“Okay be quiet now, we’re here.” Armin says, as the three stop in front of the Commander’s door.

Bertholdt went ahead and gave three respectful knocks.

Oddly enough, instead of the usual prompt reply of their usually prompt Commander, the cadets heard a series of muffled shuffling and a few bangs on wood. Then finally, came Erwin Smith’s—albeit slightly strained—baritone.

“Come in!”

Armin could’ve sworn he heard giggling after the Commander’s reply, but Bertholdt turned the knob and swung the door open nonetheless.

To their surprise, they found the Commander with none other than Petra Ral in his office.

“Is it just me or did we interrupt something?” Armin discreetly whispers to Reiner, eyeing the slightly disheveled appearance of their Commander as well as the hurriedly awkward way Petra is combing down her ginger hair.

“Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday, Sir. But we’d thought to let you know that you’re wife is here,” Bertholdt announces with a firm salute.

At his words, both the Commander and Petra look to each other with a funny look on their faces.

Confused, Erwin cocks a thick eyebrow. “I’m sorry, who?”

Back at the doorway, the three Cadets blink back. “Err… your wife, Sir?”

It was then that the boys heard a brisk tap on the still-open door behind them.

They pivot to see Squad Leader Miche by the door, smirking at them, and an utterly amused twinkle in his green eyes.

“Sorry to break it ‘ya, boys. But the Commander’s already with his wife,” Miche winked at a peeved Commander Erwin and the blushing ginger girl right beside him. Miche then gives the couple a woman’s name, telling them that she’s here. (He must’ve smelled her in the premises before anyone even had to tell him.)

Extremely puzzled, Reiner looks from the entertained look on the Squad Leader, to his Commander, and now apparently, to his Commander’s wife.

“Then who’s…?”

Before Reiner could finish, Miche simply threw his head back in a fit of laughter, as him and his newest piece of gossip to tell Hange, went on their merry way.

At the mezzanine, the woman stops.

“Commander Erwin?”

The woman blinked at the Cadets who have also stopped walking, looking back at her in confusion now.

She then turns to Ymir with a bewildered look on her face.

“Erwin isn’t my husband.”

“What? Then who are you here to—“

“Lieutenant Ackerman!”

At the sound of that unmistakable screech, the pregnant woman whirls and shrieks back.

“Hange!”

Excitedly, the bespectacled scientist ran over to the woman and gave her the tightest—but careful—of hugs. Immediately, Hange started fawning over her old friend.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mrs. Ackerman herself,” Hange says cheekily, as she went to hold her laughing friend’s hands. “Oh, look at you! Oh my goodness, you’re so big!” She exclaims giddily, gently rubbing the pregnant lieutenant’s belly.

Meanwhile, Christa stammers quietly. “D-did she just say… Lieutenant?”

“…Ackerman?!” Eren added, mouth open.

“Hell no.” Ymir gaped. There was no fucking way.

Beaming prettily, you giggled at Hange. “Well, I’m already at my third trimester!” You took a breath, and held Hange’s forearms. “It’s so good to see you again, Hange. I hope Levi didn’t sass you too much while I was gone.”

“Puh-lease! I’d say it’s Levi who’s had his hands full with me and my shenanigans since you’ve been gone,” Hange chuckles teasingly. She then tilts her head towards Eren and sighs dramatically, “I wouldn’t say the same about Jaeger over there, though.”

Now addressing Eren, Hange tells the Cadet, “Thank your lucky stars, Eren! You’re about to have a helluva stress-free weekend now that Levi’s wife is here!”

Still shocked, Eren just nods absently.

“Well, Lieutenant. I’m sure you’re here to see your Captain?” Hange loops her arms around the woman’s cheerfully. “I’ll take you to him! Let’s pass by Erwin and Petra along the way, I’m sure they’ve missed you.”

And off you two strolled, across the mezzanine and up the last flights of stairs onto the Commander’s Corridor, four flummoxed Cadets trailing behind you.

Reiner, Bertholdt, and Armin’s bafflement was broken by Petra’s squeal at the mention the woman’s name.

“She’s here?!”

Petra then flies out her husband’s office, the boys quickly getting out of her way. At the sight of her best friend at the end of the corridor, she calls out her name and goes, “About time you visited!”

Lieutenant Ackerman hugs Petra back, and soon enough, the three women were already thrilling about the Lieutenant’s pregnancy. Compliments on how glowing she looked, questions about how far along she was, how she was faring with the pregnancy, and if she had a clue about the baby’s gender flew about in giggles and sighs.

In a moment, Commander Erwin himself has followed Petra out to also engulf his subordinate-turned-good-friend in a warm hug.

At the side, Eren was still carrying your wicker basket. When he and the girls finally met up with Reiner, Bertholdt and Armin by the Commander’s office, Eren nudges Reiner sharply.

“She isn’t the Commander’s wife!”

“So we’re finding out,” Reiner grits out. Eren gives out some really painful jabs.

“Is it just me, or did your eyebrows get bushier, Erwin?” you tease.

“Shut up.” Erwin quips back, still hugging you. He looks down at you, smiling fondly, and feigning annoyance in his voice. “You’re lucky I missed you.”

When you finally separated, Erwin held your shoulders gently as he glanced to the flight of stairs you just traversed. “How are you and the baby? The stairs didn’t exhaust you too much did they?”

“We’re fine, and the stairs were nothing, don’t worry. I wasn’t handpicked by Humanity’s Strongest himself for nothing, you know,” You beam up at Erwin who was already nodding in relief.

“Good. Levi would kill me if I allowed you to get strained.”

You roll your eyes, “Levi fusses over me whether or not I get strained. But guess what, Commander,” you had a delicious sparkle in your eye.

“I made cake.”

And like a little kid, Erwin Smith gives a small pump of his fist; he’s always been a terrible sweet tooth. While Hange whoops in joy.

Petra looks to the new recruits who were watching the odd scene before them. It isn’t everyday they see their commanding officers act so ecstatic and carefree, after all. Incredibly far from the usual strict fashion their superiors would carry themselves. Commander Erwin, especially.

Smiling, Petra addresses the Cadets, “Look sharp, Cadets. You’re looking at one of the most exceptional sharpshooters in the three Walls! Graduated first in her class and everything. Even precedes me to the Special Ops Squad!”

“And the Scouting Legion’s finest Lieutenant,” Erwin added proudly, to which you only chuckled bashfully at, lightly swatting at his arm.

“But you kids can call her Lieutenant Ackerman,” Hange shrugged, grinning. Knowing exactly how Reiner, Bertholdt, and Armin would take the new information, despite her nonchalance.

And Bertholdt’s answer delivered just the reaction Hange anticipated.

“Wait. Did you just say--?”

“OI YOU RAT BASTARDS!”

Then like the rumbling thunder of an approaching storm, came Captain Levi Ackerman, stomping in with a smirking Miche just behind him.

And absolutely furious.

“What in the actual fuck made you brats think that letting my pregnant wife climb up the stairs was all fine and dandy?! I swear to sweet Sina’s shit, if something happened to—“

But something makes Levi stop in his tracks.

It was you. And oh, what a sight were you to behold.

The last time he saw you, your baby bump was only just showing. But in that moment, when you made that graceful turn of yours to peek up at him through your eyelashes, a playful smile dancing on your lips, Levi was convinced he must have married a goddess. A faerie woman who has quite utterly entranced him in a spell. A nymph who’s sly smile holds many a delicious promise to a simple man like him.

You looked absolutely divine with your full belly. And his wonderstruck burns deeper at the thought that it was his child that your beautiful body was growing; it elicits something primal in him. His wonderfully gorgeous wife was pregnant with his child, and Levi’s entire being ached to be near her. Ached to protect her and their baby; to provide them with everything their hearts desired.

Then Levi Ackerman quickens his pace to a sprint until finally, you were in his arms, safe and sound…

Until finally, he had you wrapped up in a kiss.

Furtively, Hange whispers to Ymir with a grin, “She’s always been the only who could calm him down.”

Once Levi was satisfied that he’s kissed his wife enough, he looked to you with warm eyes—warm eyes that no one else would see otherwise, if it weren’t for your presence smiling glowingly back at him.

His hands, so strong and calloused, wavered at your belly; hesitant that they might hurt the precious treasure within. Patiently, your soft hands took Levi’s hard ones—hands that have seen so much violence—and held them against the swell of your belly.

“It’s okay, Levi. Hold your baby.”

He held you so tenderly, so lovingly.

“Next time, don’t take the stairs. I’ll be coming down to you, no matter the time of day. ” Levi admonishes in a low voice, gunmetal eyes serious.

You just giggled at what the Cadets would think to be a fairly intimidating face, “You worry too much, darling. As if you haven’t trained me to be tough as nails.”

It could be nothing else but sorcery, the Cadets think. Absolute witchcraft! How in the world could this tiny woman turn the Captain’s temper up on its head just like that? They were like a tableau of the sun and the moon come together—a bright and bubbly girl, with a cold and aloof Captain. And much like the sun and the moon, one’s lightheartedness bounces off the other.

Now, Ymir understood why the Scouts couldn’t believe who she was dating back then. She couldn’t believe her eyes even as she watched Humanity’s Strongest himself envelop the woman in an embrace! But hey, Ymir was at least right with two things—Captain Levi’s lover is indeed both an angel and a bombshell of a woman.

Suddenly, Levi’s soft expression turns sour.

“I’ve also been filled in by Miche, you brats.” Levi’s menacing eyes flash to the Cadets that have accompanied his wife. A look which has promptly frozen the soldiers into attention.

“What kind of dimwit-loving maggot ate at your brains for you lot to think to bring her to Erwin’s office, huh?”

Briefly, Levi wondered if it was a breach of military decorum to smack these nitwits up the head for assuming his lovely wife was Erwin’s and not his.

The Cadets only stood frozen, not daring to say a word. The Captain certainly wasn’t a man whose anger they wanted to incite; even accidentally.

“Hey, hey, Levi, please,” you speak up, cupping your jealous (and adorable) husband’s cheek to make him face back to you, treating him once again to your tinkling laugh. “It’s my fault, I didn’t exactly introduce myself properly. Besides, it’s for the best. We both know that once you’ve got in me in your clutches, who knows when you’ll let me see Erwin and Petra anymore?”

And with your magic touch, the Captain visibly calms down. A little embarrassed (and blushing) that’s he’s been so easily rendered love-struck by his wife’s laughter, Levi sighs. He reaches to stroke the luscious locks of your hair, “And for good reason.”

Levi glares up at his blonde friend’s grinning face.

“He’s gonna finish up all the cake.”

Once the Cadets have been dismissed, you distribute the quaintly packaged boxes of cake to the Smiths, Hange, and Miche. Before you and Levi left for his office, Hange tells you to drop by her lab before leaving so that she can do a check-up on you.

“I know you have a good midwife and doctor back home, but you can never be too sure, eh? I also want to make sure you’re okay enough for the travel back.” She says to you and Levi, something you very much appreciated. You thanked her as Levi, after putting some serious thought into it, begrudgingly promised to bring you over despite the fact that it would leave him with even less time with you.

With an arm around your waist and a hand resting securely on your hip, Levi takes your wicker basket, and leads you to his office at the other end of the corridor. At the back of his mind, Levi knew that news of his wife would spread like wildfire now that the new recruits have met you. But he didn’t mind, because all he wanted was some much needed alone time with his wife.

Even now, on the way to his office, aides and squad leaders have already taken notice of you and the way he was holding you. Stares—both curious and disbelieving—followed them as these poor Scouts wrapped their heads around the fact that their fearsome Captain was being tender to a woman.

A woman who was delightedly telling him about the special carrot cake she made him—his favorite. As well as the artisan jasmine and ginseng teas you got him from Wall Sina. You even brought Levi’s favorite cleaning wax!

But when Levi finally had you behind his office door, all these treats were effectively forgotten. Because in a single husky order from your Captain, he’s got you melting like putty beneath his hands. Moaning his name and whimpering for him to come closer, to kiss you deeper.

And Levi, happily obliged.

The next morning when you woke up, your husband was nowhere to be seen. That didn’t alarm you though, knowing full well that as Captain, he often had a full schedule and has always liked to start his day early. So he’s probably somewhere working out, or overseeing training if he wasn’t in his office doing early morning paperwork.

And then something heavenly hits you. Something deliciously heavenly, to be exact.

You heard your stomach rumble, as the smell of butter, maple syrup, and freshly roasted nuts rouse you from bed and into your maternity clothes. With the morning dew still hanging in the air, you waddle across the courtyard to reach the mess hall where all the food you were craving was, when you heard a horse’s familiar neigh.

Looking up, you find Levi looking every inch the battle hero he was, as he gracefully rode on his great steed, Midnight, whom he’s slowed to trot and then finally to a halt beside you.

“Good morning, Captain,” you greet your husband cheekily.

“Good morning, why are you up so early?” Levi asks, thin eyebrows crunched together in concern. You haven’t even done up your hair yet.

Shyly, you bit your lip, and shrugged. “I got hungry.”

At that, Levi’s eyes widened in realization. Already mentally kicking himself that of course his pregnant wife would be craving for some food. He hasn’t lived with you for so long that he’s forgotten to ensure that you had breakfast by your bedside once you woke up.

‘Duh Levi, you dumbass,’ he thinks to himself

Quickly, he swings himself off his horse, and while firmly holding the reins, goes to you. He cups your face with an earnest and apologetic look in his face.

“I’m sorry, darling. I should’ve brought you up some food, you shouldn’t have had to come down.”

You give him a peck, “Shh, it’s alright. You wouldn’t have known which one I was craving for anyways. And exercise is good for pregnant women, Levi.”

Levi looks back to you softly. “Okay,” he concedes. “But you have to kiss me again.”

And so you did.

Passionately. Devotedly.

It would have been unmistakable to those who witnessed you and your Captain kiss as to exactly who you were to him. Especially once they’ve noticed your matching wedding rings and your very pregnant condition. And it was nice, you think, to finally be able to wear your heart on your sleeve around the man you love; free and unafraid of judgment after years of secret rendezvous and feigning innocence.

It was certainly a thrill for a young woman like you to have unexpectedly attracted the interest of her handsome, older, Captain. And not just any Captain, Humanity’s Strongest, no less! The flirting behind closed doors, heated gazes across rooms, the innuendos, and the whispered promises; it was all as if your life has turned into a novel.

But you and Levi prefer this—to love unrestricted, and for Levi especially, to care fuck all who saw him kissing his lovely wife.

Yet still, when Levi lead you to the mess hall where many Scouts were already having their early morning breakfast at, you once again felt like the foolish young lieutenant that’s gotten herself pregnant, and even worse, has lost the baby. The stares and whispers following you both as you entered the hall took you back to time where stares and whispers felt like a weapon against you. And for a while, walking into the mess hall was like walking into a battlefield with the way you had to hold your nerves together, and desperately tried not to freeze up.

You felt well and truly disgraced back then. There was no denying the quiet but stifling judgement of seemingly all seeing eyes that trailed the girl who dared let Levi Ackerman fall in love with her. Who dared be as careless as to lose their esteemed Captain’s baby, on top of pretty much being branded as a whore.

Of course, Captain Levi promptly and adamantly married you after you miscarried and were safe enough. Levi was the one who convinced you to at least take a break, if not to retire completely, from being a Scout in order for you to safely have your pregnancies. It would kill him, Levi said, if anything bad happened to you while on the job. And he’d be damned if he’d let even a sliver of a chance where you or your baby could get hurt. Not again.

And so while your ordeal as the Scouting Legion’s newest scandal has long since been a bad memory now, you still couldn’t help but anxiously and unconsciously walk a half step behind your husband in order to hide yourself behind him.

Noticing this, Levi takes your hand, and gives it a firm and reassuring kiss.

I’m right here, it said. You’re safe.

But the dread would soon dissipate, as Levi carefully lead you to a table where his squad was already beaming up at you in greeting, morning coffee in their hands.

“Lieutenant! Good morning!” calls out Eld. He was always a morning person.

“I knew you were here! The Captain hasn’t rang us for paperwork all night!” Oluo jibes good-naturedly.

“How’s the mini-Captain going along?” Gunther added smiling, referring to your big baby bump.

“You mean mini-Lieutenant,” Levi says to his squad pointedly. He’s always hoped for a girl. You once joked to him that he only wanted a girl because he wanted to be able to kick their daughter’s future boyfriends’ asses. Levi scoffed at you then, “No shit.”

You just rolled your eyes, “The baby is going along well, Gunther. Healthy and strong just like their father.”

At that, Levi kisses the top of your head tenderly. He then looks to his men, “She’s too good to me.”

Gunther and Oluo chuckle fondly while Eld just raises his coffee cup in salute, “Cheers to that, sir.”

Once you’re settled, Levi asks you quietly, “Will you be alright? I’ll just go and get your food for you.”

You smile up at your indulgent husband, “Yes, I’ll be alright. I’m sure Oluo’s itching to share me the latest gossip, anyways.” You then proceeded to tell Levi what you want to have. “I want the potatoes with lots of butter, okay?” You all but gave Levi your best puppy dog eyes, knowing that he’d protest at you wanting unhealthy food.

Alas, the Captain sighs in defeat. He can’t say no to what his pregnant wife wants. Especially when she looks at him like that. “Alright, fine. For the baby.”

You beam up and give him another peck, “Thank you, darling.” And off Captain Levi went, with you watching the confident strides of his retreating form.

“Who would have thought, huh?” Eld’s voice breaks your reverie. “That our very own Captain and Lieutenant would be married. With a baby on the way, no less!”

“Yeah,” Oluo chimes in. “Who would have thought-- our lovely Lieutenant and our err… less than lovely Captain,” he says patronizingly. Oluo, perhaps more than anyone, would agree that Levi is an exceptional man. But even he could recognize the funny little couple you and Levi made.

You pointed at him, looking past Gunther’s arm which was pouring you a cup of coffee. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

Soon enough, Oluo and Gunther started telling you the buzz now that the new recruits have met you. Apparently, the cadets have been convinced that Levi was dating Petra. So you were quite a surprise to them. Eld even tells you how some of the recruits that haven’t met you yesterday—Connie, Jean, and Sasha, he said their names were—even walked up to this table this morning with very determined faces, asking if it was all true.

And with that, you and your old squad just laughed, feeling very much at home with the company.

Levi decided not to comment on the knowing smirks that the cooks met him with as he requested for extra portions for his wife. Levi knew he was sight to behold— their formidable Captain, gathering as much food as he can for his pregnant wife.

Levi’s used to it all now, the surprised looks and the gaping stares of soldiers at the sight of his undeniably dazzling wife. He’s also used to the confused looks of eyes darting between him, then to his wife, and then back to him, as if the bastards were trying to compute fucking rocket science. And he gets it. Even he has to pinch himself sometimes that this isn’t all a dream; that he’s actually married to the most riveting woman in the Legion.

But as he walked back, tray of all your favorite food in hand, the sight of you laughing with a hand contentedly resting on your belly was all a man like him needed to be satisfied that you’re real. You’re here, you’re real, and you’re his.

Once he’s sat back down beside you, he can’t help but kiss your temple again.

“Eat up,” he says, and it nearly fucking kills him the way your eyes lit up at the sight of the food.

Fucking adorable.

There was once a time Levi was convinced that he would never be one to have a family. That things like that just aren’t meant for men like him. But seeing you happily doing your little dance at how delicious you thought the food was (a truly very funny sight, considering this is Scouting Legion Mess Hall food.) He wonders what other preconceptions Levi had that you, and now your new baby, would be shattering for him.

After all, it was his own little miracle that you chose to love him at all. And at that, Levi has to agree with everyone else—

Who would have thought, indeed.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one, as usual. Maybe too much fun. I guess I'm incapable of writing short fics huh? Also, my inbox has been filling up, and I'm thinking back on writing The Wingman and The Paramour again so I'll be closing requests.

But hey, if you have any thoughts and questions, do hmu! My ask box is always open, and I love talking to you guys. Far better than talking to myself, I'd say. lol.

Edit: Requests Re-opened! HERE are the rules!

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fluff #aot fanfiction #erwin smith x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi ackerman imagines #levi x reader #aot x you #maria's scribblings

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Albedo #Yandere x reader #Honestly it's not very yandere #My sleeping pills don't work again #my writing

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sxltedcxramel · 3 years

Text

Lover’s Quarrel

c!techno x gn!reader

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

: ̗̀➛ Summary: You and Technoblade have been friends for decades, always by each other’s side you two faught alongside each other. That was once in a lifetime, and should never happen again. Unfortunately life doesn’t play out that way and you happen to need him one more time... or maybe they’ll be a change in plans?

: ̗̀➛ Word Count: 1515

: ̗̀➛ Chapters: 1/1

: ̗̀➛ Tag(s): No beta reader we die like ghostbur, c!techno, gn!reader, immortal reader x immortal techno, angel!reader, god!techno, angst, friends to enemies to friends, complicated ik

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of torture and death

: ̗̀➛ Taglist: Here

: ̗̀➛ Link(s): Ao3

: ̗̀➛ Notes: *screams into oblivion* one this is all platonic I didn’t specify 😓 two I barely survived the writers drought (no friken inspiration) but I bring to you my first c!dsmp x reader fic (please be kind I tried-) basically this taks place in really old times and not modern considering how its writter like I just finished reading shakesphere although the idea came while listening to classical music so that it how you will. Also this isn’t edited so my bad if theres mistakes-

The room was dimly lit with candles and the r oaring fire that burned passionately at the fireplace. White tiles were plastered with gold diamonds, the shade almost as if it was antique jewelry, Old but could tell an amazing story. The colour completing the beige-coloured room

You waited patiently, cross-legged glaring at the clock that ticked every second or so. 10 minutes you thought to yourself while you grind your teeth. That man seemed to be early only when it was for his own convenience, how distasteful.

Just as you finished that thought you saw the dark oak wood door being pushed open. A man walks in, he wears a white loosely fitted blouse, with bishop sleeves which was decorated with frilly fabrics. Along with death-black dress pants that were worn up to the waist. His face where his mask usually is is replaced with glasses and the man's delicate bubblegum pink hair is loosely braided and thrown on the right side of his shoulder.

“Your late” you glare crossing your arms

He let out a sigh “Well pardon me for taking a while to get ready, It's almost like you didn’t come here unannounced” he spoke sarcastically.

He walked over to the glass tray and picked up a small glass cup with a gold ring around it and poured himself a drink. He eyes you “Would you care for a drink y/n?”

“I don’t drink”

He shrugs “Suit yourself”

“Technoblade, I didn't come here for idle chatter.”

He arched his eyebrow slightly “Oh?” Techno placed his cup down “Pray do tell, what exactly did you come here for?” You watched him walk to the other side of the room as he said that.

“I-“ you could even finish before being rudely interrupted by a rustling noise. You watched as your patience grew thinner by the minute he took out a black vinyl disc and placed it on a wooden box making sure the oin was adjusted well. A soft tune of the piano came out of the music player.

“Would you care for a dance?” He holds out his hand, you stare at it contemplating whether you should grab his hands, you really shouldn't, you didn’t want to play his games, you wanted what you came for, but then again it would harm a dance. Or course your brain chose the latter considering how you delicately placed your hand in his letting him place his hand on your waist the the other on your shoulder. He lead the way,(just like he always does)

“Apologies for interrupting music helps me think.” He spoke as he spun you around the floor “They calm the voices” . You knew all about the voices, how much they love to chant and clog his brain with different variations of thoughts, perks of being his ex-partner you suppose. But you watched as he hid a smirk, you guess he’s just telling only half the truth. You roll your eyes

“You can finish”

“Wouldn’t you mean start idiot” you snap

“Meh”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, his inability to ever grasp the mood of the situation was flawless. It seemed as if he never cared about the other person's feelings, unless you were the god of death you were out of luck for a serious conversation. You’ve dealt with that for decades

You could remember once in a lifetime the two of you were partners, fast and precise that's how the job went. The blood god and the angel of destruction are an amazing duo. You remember when the two of you used to watch as people begged on their knees for their life or perhaps a mercy kill. Watching as your foes tried to retreat to their bases only for their pitiful lives to end in such a disgraceful manner. At the end of the day the two of you stood in the battlefield side by side knowing the world could shake in fear knowing you two were alive

And you loved it like that desire to make people fear you brought giddiness to your body and enlightened your world. You wanted one thing and it was to get revenge.

Revenge on all who did you wrong from your youth up, and now you were strong enough to bring it tenfold.

Everything was fine, It wasn’t until one day the two of you had sat down for a cup of tea like you usually did on Thursday evenings. He told you he wanted to retire, he was done with the killings and the torture.

He was finally putting down the title ‘Blood god’

At first you thought it was a joke but then you saw his eyes and they were as serious as he could ever be, anger rose up in you unable to process the statement.

How could he leave you like this, he promised to be by your side when no one else would.

A liar that's would your made him out to be

A slap to the cheek was all you left him that day

Now here you were decades later, hand in hand dancing to the sounds of the instruments harmonizing becoming one just the way you two were.

He spun you around gracefully on the tiled floor, there's something about dancing in an empty room that makes you feel weird inside. What was this feeling? Him making you feel weak in the knees, perhaps it was the fact the last time you did this it was when you two were young and reckless. He always seemed to know how to brighten your life,even to the point the friendship you two had was envied amongst the other gods.

He twirled you across the room dipping you slightly “Cat caught your tongue”

You rolled your eyes “As if”

You saw outside the glass panes, the sky was painted a blood orange mixed with lavender purples and hints of blue. The sun slowly sets,bringing the nightfall.

You chuckle to yourself, how romantic of the sky to show such a sight for people who would die before dating each other.

You turn your gaze to the god “I need you one last time” you say cutting to the chase

Technoblade glared at you “I already told you I’m retired, don’t be so stubborn”

“I’m not, your being selfish putting your needs before anyone else's”

He snorts “Isn’t that what you're doing y/n? Or am I reading the situation wrong?” He says sarcastically “Plus I thought you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me, or was that slap something you did on impulse and you couldn’t face me after?”

You grind your teeth “It was not, and why are you making it seem like you're the victim? You're the one who wanted to leave me!” You snapped

He took his hands away from you and pinched the bridge of his nose “See, this is why we cannot have a conversation. You always jump to conclusions” he growls

“I do not!”

“You do! I never intended to leave your side, only retiring. Is it so bad I wanted to stop killing and do something better with my life, and here I thought you’d be happy with it.”

You stared at him shocked, “I..”

Was he right? You were known to act on impulse which did cause problems in the long run but he’d be there to be by your side every time. But yet, you couldn’t fathom the thought of him leaving his life behind to start a new one. Why? You weren’t sure.

Techno sighed “You act so tough when actually you're broken inside. The thing is you weren’t mad at me for retirement, you were mad that things were changing. You're scared of change because you don’t know where you’ll fall between it all.”

The piano falls into a soft handsomely rhythm

The violinist quietly drag their bows delicately

You cast your eyes aside, you couldn’t argue with the truth. You swallow hard fighting back the tears. You couldn’t fathom the amount of times you’ve been in the wrong or how much you’ve hurt him

Stupid

Stupidstupidstu-

A hand is placed on you head

“You think too much, stop that”

“I’m sorry”

“For overthinking or for being impulsive” he questions

“Both” you whisper keeping your eyes on the floor

“And?”

You huffed “You were right about everything”

He grinned showing his pearly whites “I’m sorry what was that? I couldn’t hear you?”

You laughed slightly making your worries go away for the time being “You asshole, get your head out of the skies as if I’m repeating that again”

He chuckles shrugging “Worth a try”

“So, let's get something straight. I’ll help you one last time then I’m forcing you to retire. Seriously you have no say so.” He eyes you “You probably need therapy too jeez”

“Fuck You I’m perfectly fine”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night” he responds ushering you out the room

“Bold of you to assume I sleep”

“Bruhh”

Taglist: @ttakinou @angstyx

#caramel writes #c!techno #c!technoblade #c!techo x reader #gn!reader #angel!reader #c!techno x gn!reader #immortal!reader x immortal!techno #blood god techno #dream smp #dsmp #angst #fluff #not beta read #we die like ghostbur

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kpopchangedme · 4 years

Text

Bang Chan | Royal Affair [M]

Your fiancé had always been audacious but you never thought he'd dare sneak into your royal quarters after nightfall...

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You (ft. a very wise Park Jinyoung)

Word Count: 4.7k

Prompt: “If you keep looking me like that I won’t be able to handle myself” [for @marklee-johnnyseo]

Stray Kids | M.list

You barely had time to register your advisor's toupet before ducking behind a stone bench. Muffling your giggles with your palm, you looked back at Chan who wasn’t doing any better. His eyes had creased, glimmering with amusement, and his cheeks were reddened from your little run. Your heart swelled at the lovely sight. Still beaming, he reached, brushing a strand away from your face. His fingers lingered there, trailing your ear until they were against your nape. The moment stretched into infinity before he claimed them back once your silent laughter died down. Your advisor’s calls echoed, still looking for you in the maze of the French Gardens. He was getting more urgent by the minute but you didn’t mind.

There was not much time left for you two anyway.

Chan leaned in and you removed your hand, tilting your head to receive his furtive kiss. Softly, his lips ghosted over yours, the touch barely a graze before it was gone. Keeping your eyes shut, you savoured the moment as your fiancé’s breath climbed on your cheek until it was in the crook of your neck. His other hand slid on the grass, finding yours to intertwine fingers.

“Write to me,” he demanded in a whisper. A shiver travelled your spine.

“Every day,” you gladly promised, “I’ll expect you back at the palace soon nonetheless.”

Chan chuckled softly, nose tickling your ear. “I’ll come before the first snowfall.”

“Winter is so far away,” you whined right back.

“You’ll pray for a cold Autumn, I'm sure.”

“There you go, teasing me again...”

“I will neither rest nor eat before every single enemy of the throne is defeated...” He was only half-joking. “The sooner the rebellion is quashed, the sooner I’ll be called back.”

“Chan, don’t be foolis–”

“Y/n…” He was more serious when he interrupted your scolding and sat, staring at you intently. “Tonight–”

“Princess!” Chan jerked backwards at Jinyoung’s interruption, startled to have been discovered so soon and you jumped up, panting. “Lord Bang!”

“Sir Park!” The young Lord exclaimed with similar disparagement making you snort.

“The Queen has called you to her chambers,” the advisor quipped back, highly unimpressed, and your stomach sank at the news. “While I believe you – Lord Bang – were expected by the House half an hour ago.” Tugging at your dress that had been goofed by your short escape and run through the gardens, you missed Chan’s magistral eye roll. “The Duke doesn’t like to be kept waiting, my Lord,” Walking the fine line between impoliteness and indisputable truth, Jinyoung smiled haughtily. If you hadn’t just been caught fooling around with your fiancé, perhaps you’d have more ground to call out the royal advisor on his attitude problem, but he was an expert at that game. Jinyoung always won when it came to reason.

“Who would dare make my uncle wait to order me around?” Sarcastic, Chan excused himself before hurrying to the House of Lords, not without one last heavy look your way. He'd probably come to the same conclusion as you; fighting your advisor with words was not worth the wasted effort.

Later, Chan's wink assured. Sure, your coy smile replied.

You would see him soon enough.

Before the first snowfall, he had promised.

___

The night had come, you were now sitting in front of your tinted glass, trying to loosen the knot in your stomach as well as the ones in your hair. Your discussion with the Queen and Jinyoung had made you wary, painting the Duke in a new much grimmer light. You couldn't shake the dread of their suspicions.

They'd said you were getting old enough so they didn't see any point in shielding you from the matters of the throne anymore. As they’d voiced their concerns over the power-crazed leader of the House of Lords only one thing had been on your mind.

Jinyoung's usually wise judgement was unforgiving, he was certain the Duke was weaponizing the rebellion to ensure instability throughout your future kingdom. There were only a few months left before your wedding, before your older sister's planned abdication. The people loved you but you were still young, having the support of the House was requisite for your coronation to go seamlessly.

Something only an alliance with one of the most powerful families could ensure.

Your trust in Chan was unwavering and so was your advisor’s, remarkably so. But said loyalty, as it turned out, was the main cause of your worries tonight.

If Chan married you as intended, his uncle's ambitions would be laid to rest... But if your soon-to-be High King was to never return from his latest military assignment...

Something cold stirred in the pit of your stomach.

If Jinyoung was right, and to your knowledge, he was rarely ever not, this could all be a plot by the horrid Duke to have you marry him instead.

Chan was leaving for the frontlines at dawn tomorrow and now you couldn't help thinking back to his wink, that kiss in the gardens, wondering if this would be your last farewell.

A muffled sound right outside your window pulled you out of your anguish.

You held your breath, listening keenly for a few seconds. Another thud, louder and unmistakenly closer this time. Standing in fear, you glanced back at your door. Should you hail the guards? The last time you had been frightened, it’d turned out to be a simple rodent in your parapet. Against disturbing them, you grabbed your letter opener and tiptoed to the large window by yourself. Just as you were leaning over, a formless shadow hoisted itself up making you yelped in terror. Startled, the dark silhouette raised its head and your hand around the paper cutter loosened.

"C-Chan!”

“I thought I saw an early snowflake f...” Seeing your poor state, your fearless fiancé shut up and lost the dumb smile, still crouched on your stone window frame. “By God, were you about to gut me?”

“Princess?”

There was a knock on your door and the fortune weapon slipped your fingers, falling on your carpet. You might be promised to one another, but sneaking into the royal quarters was still a crime punishable by beheading. Without thinking, you shoved Chan behind the embroidered folding screen in the corner of your room. Thankfully just in time, since half a second later your guard busted in, sword drawn.

“My apologies...” Jackson hastily faced back the door when he caught a glimpse of your indecent attire and put his weapon away. “I thought I heard you scream, your Royal Highness.”

“Y-Yes...” you admitted, heart in a frenzy. “I, uh, thought I saw… A squirrel at the window!”

“Oh,” you cringed at the smile in his voice, “Want me to get rid of it? Where–”

“NO!” Jackson froze again when you yelled, about to step closer.

From his fortune hiding spot, Chan didn't seem worried about his head at all. He had noticed something far more interesting. Blushing furiously, you kicked his shin when he reached for your lacy bodice, discarded over the folded screen. He hissed through his teeth at the hit, making the royal guard glance over his shoulder once again, curious.

“Very well then Princess,” lingering suspicion in his eyes, Jackson conceded half-heartedly, “I’ll keep post.” Relieved, you thanked him and he excused himself. As soon as your door safely shut again, you faced the troublemaker, astounded.

Nevermind the Duke's scheming, Chan would end up executed before your wedding and coronation all on his own.

“What are you doing?” He pulled you behind the screen with him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Wondering…” He pressed a tentative peck on your cheek, undoubtedly heated by his antics. “Is this the haven that sees you undress daily?” Chan’s fingers grabbed a silk ribbon, hooked into your abandoned bodice, and you groaned, highly embarrassed. “I feel like I am having the most vivid dream, love.”

“You shouldn’t have come, you need to leave. If we get caught...” Your skin betrayed you, shivering as he pressed a second kiss to your jawline, at the very beginning of your neck.

“Mmm… Don't want to.” He brought his mouth back to your left ear, breath tickling it. “Are you gonna scream for your guard, Princess?”

“Chan…” You sighed in defeat when he cupped your face, running a thumb on your cheek.

This was nothing like your usual escapades in the gardens or dark, empty alcoves. You were both well aware of it. With only your nightgown on, you could feel the warmth of his body and you were sure that if he looked down, he’d see through the sheer fabric.

“I’m leaving in a few hours,” he lamented, and you weren't sure if he meant your bedroom or for his mission. Since you didn’t protest, he kissed your mouth, soft but firmer than earlier that afternoon. There was no one to interrupt this time, and his mouth opened yours, tentatively tasting your tongue. Throwing decency out the window, you pressed closer, and Chan had to step back and lean against the wall to remain up.

“You are mad.” You accused in a whisper, not minding at all.

“Smitten,” he replied, forehead against yours to stare into your eyes. His arms slid on the fine fabric, stopping where your lower back curved in.

“This is insane,” your own hands travelled on his neck, “we’ll get caught and you’ll get punished.”

“I would’ve died from not seeing you alone before I left.” His lips pressed yours again. “Execution will be far more pleasing knowing I had you unattended.”

“Don’t tease,” you groaned seriously, tilting your head upwards but he only smiled against your mouth.

“I am not, my love… You are killing me.” His tongue grazed your lower lip stealing you an unfamiliar mewl. Suddenly, Chan pushed you to safety, away from him. He seemed almost frightened by the lewd sound, face coloured, lips glistening, breathless.

It got even worse when he finally looked down at your nightgown, your chest was naked, brushing against the fabric. Even in the candlelight, he could distinguish your shaded nipples, very little was left to his imagination. His gaze darkened as his chin dropped, the faint lighting stretching eerie shadows on his features.

“Do you always sleep in this?” Your modesty screamed to cover yourself, but something about the way he hushed those words, almost like an accusation, kept you from doing so. Your chin bobbed and Chan exhaled heavily, running his fingers through your strands. He hadn’t seen your hair loose since you both were kids. Back then you could spend every day together without any adult thinking much of it. “When are our nuptials again?”

“Chan…” You protested faintly at his humour, but he didn't seem to hear the wariness in your voice. His imminent absence and the dangers ahead weighed you down, but he was still high on the thrill of his illicit stunt.

“If you keep looking at me like that…” He heaved, gaze heavy with more unsaid improper things. This was not the look of a boy, but one of a grown man. “I want you so much I’m contemplating treason right now.”

“Oh, just now contemplating treason?” Tilting your head, you raised a skeptical brow. It was your turn to get caught up in the game “You climbed here knowing very well there would be no chaperone, Chan.”

“I mustn’t have thought that far ahead.” He so obviously lied that you quietly laughed, covering your whole face with your hands. “Y/n…” Chan exhaled, as though reading your mind. “Don't worry, I won’t do anything irrevocable. I’m not that foolish, that's not what I am here for.” Misreading.

“What are you even implying?” Faking offence, you backed away, letting him get the full view of your negligee. “Do I look like a lady of the evening to you, Lord Bang?” It took Chan everything to not follow you, drooling. Oddly bashful, he looked away, unable to see you standing near your large canopy bed like that. It’d be way too easy to lay you right here and then. His ears were scarlet at the simple thought.

“I merely wanted to see you before leaving. I would never suggest anything along those lines, your Royal Highness...” His voice was so ushered this time that you almost misheard. You glanced at the door, knowing full well no one would come back until your morning routine.

“I am aware, Chan.” Playful, you waved him, but he didn’t budge, feet glued to the carpet. “You are not a gentleman to climb into a lady’s room at night. You would never!”

His mouth quivered before he snorted; “I am a nobleman.”

“Besides...” You extended a hand for him to come closer again, the picture of Authority. “I’m saving myself for my husband.”

At that, Chan couldn’t resist, his perfect pout broke into a wide smile. “Lucky bastard,” he mused before finally obeying. Your hands slid up his vest as soon as he got close enough.

“Watch your tongue,” you chastised with a grin, “you’re talking about my future king.”

“Apologies, Princess...” He hummed, bending to claim your lips once more. Breathing him in, you let your fingers run through his dark curls as his tongue tasted yours. You felt lightweight, about to break at any of his touches now. When you began leaning back, pulling him down with you, Chan tugged your wrists off him, startled.

His stupefaction was priceless.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Lay with me.” You requested, dead serious. His mouth fell open in consternation. Chan looked at the door, then at you, then at the window.

“You are the one who's gone mad.” He accused, roles reversed. He had only climbed here for a kiss and a farewell, not your ruin.

“Yes,” you admitted, not the least shameful. “My fiancé is leaving for the frontlines and I am mad he is going without questioning his orders.” And I don’t know if I'll ever see you again.

“I am expected to be the frolicsome one, y/n.”

“Love made me crazy.” When you tugged at him again, he didn’t protest any further, falling above you with a sigh. If Chan had sensed your despair he didn't let it show. Your mattress protested loudly at the unusual additional weight. Both of you became stone, waiting with bated breath to be discovered. Thankfully, no guard burst in to save your honour.

Chan watched in a daze as you went and undo the buttons of his vest. It took longer since your fingers were made shaky by nerves. In the end, he sat back and helped, shrugging the garment to the floor. When he laid on top of you, he was in nothing but his own thin shirt. You both stared at the other in marvel. You were used to furtive stolen touches, the heat of his fingers intertwined with yours... This new warmth was outstanding, having him against you so close to your heart felt fantastic, almost skin on skin.

Chan was the first one to get a hold of himself, pressing closer, he kissed you once more. This time, his kiss was feverish and morphed into many. While your hands kept toying with his curls and exploring his large shoulders, Chan showed more restraint, settling for your face and loose hair. Even with just that, you were affected, a mess of pants and laments. None of you seemed to care to stop.

When you felt how hard he was in his pants, you were unsurprised. You had heard of that through the grapevines, eavesdrop on conversations. You had even witnessed two-person being intimate once as a child. Secretly observed one of your guards and a maid fool around. You'd thought about that day more and more often recently. Imagined yourself bent over that chair, Chan buried under your skirt. You'd wonder what kind of sounds he’d made.

“Hey,” Chan shifted his weight to stand on his elbows, frowning, “are you comfortable?” You shook your head, hands sliding clumsily to the buttons of his pants.

“More...” Your order was almost inaudible but his eyebrows raised in awe.

Chan shifted again, raising above just enough to allow you to undo the first button on his crotch. It was involuntary though because he immediately sat back. You followed, kneeling on the bed to kiss his neck as you kept working on your new task.

“Y/n,” he called, voice shaky, “are you serious?” You only hummed in response, tongue tracing his collarbone. You felt him shudder when you finally managed to access his pants. Your hand wrapped around his manhood but you were unsure what to do from then on. Chan’s mouth opened on nothing, goosebumps visible thanks to the loose collar of his shirt. His tip was leaking on your wrist. Gently, you rubbed his thin skin, making him twitch into your palm in response. You paused again, frightened he was hurt.

“S-Sorry…” Biting your lips, you were about to pull away when Chan's hand swiftly wrapped around yours. Head low, he gulped, guiding your palm over his hard sex. You watched your intertwined fingers move as one in the glow of the candles, gaze wide. For someone who was reticent to go on, he seemed oddly powerless now.

“What should I do?” The young Lord asked breathlessly, cupping your cheek to pull you into an umpteenth embrace. “I'm at wits’ end, love.”

“We don't know when you'll be back.” If.

“Yet we are not wedded.”

You would be in a matter of days if it weren't from this stupid rebellion. Your families had originally planned for a summer ceremony. Jinyoung had even pointed that out today as part of his suspicions, though if he found out you were twisting his logic to consummate your marriage in advance... Your advisor would probably strangle you with his bare hands himself.

"Does it matter that much?” Chan stared at your question, eyes shimmering in the shadow of his brow bone. “What is one more promise in front of the Queen and House gonna change? I am already yours.”

“Y/n…” He made your name sound dangerous. Exhaling in defeat, Chan slid his hand up your thighs, a gesture that left your skin humming deliciously. “I never belonged to anyone else.”

His hands didn't stop there, they kept climbing and soon they reached where your legs and hips met. Hiking smoothly your body and raising your nightgown, Chan let them roam you until you were exposed and in an instant, he was over you. Done with shilly-shallying and obviously giving in to his most primal urges. You were all too eager to welcome him, buried by his large chest in your mattress like all those fantasies. You didn’t mind the slight awkwardness of his prentice's ways or his now sloppier kisses. You took it all, shaking yourself from a strange fuse of fear and elation.

He was the one who finally made his clothes fully vanish, keeping you busy and distracted with his mouth. Then he was after your nightgown, delicately rolling it up until you were fully bare under him; skin to skin. Chan's breath was hitched, weakened when he pulled away to observe your reaction, a curious look on his face.

“I love you,” he confessed and you'd have rolled your eyes if he hadn't said it ever so slightly more seriously than all those other times prior.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, so loud it felt like the guards outside might hear it. You cupped his face, thumb running on his cheekbones and on his earlobes while your fingers danced on his nape. Chan shuts his eyes at the caress, shoulders loosening. You wanted to remember him like that forever, swollen, crazy hair, honey skin, feel his weight over yours and his warmth everywhere. He was yours.

Insanely enough, when his eyes opened again to meet yours, you knew he meant more. “Forever,” your fiancé insisted, lips hooking into his familiar smirk.

The following kisses were diligent and purposeful, making you both almost forget your predicament. Almost, because your crotch was throbbing, burning and demanding like never before. If you could only guess, he was not doing much better. Chan's sex was pressed against you, long and stiff, slowly smearing wetness on your lower stomach. Mechanically, his hips rolled forward with each kiss, rubbing you both torturously. You were in shambles, sweating and feverish under him. You needed more of him so that’s exactly what you begged for, in a raspy whisper you didn't recognize of yourself.

Eager to oblige, Chan wandered down, letting his length fall between your legs. His cock brushed over your sex and though you wanted him, your thighs jerked, only being kept apart by his own. He didn't seem to mind, pressing consoling kisses along your jaw and neck as he slowly ghosted over you again.

Chan hitched your legs higher, the tip of him stretching your entrance. It wasn't as absolute as you’d imagined when he made his way inside you. There was no divine uproar, no intense strain, nothing broken or ruined. Ultimately, it wouldn't have mattered, nothing mattered like his ardent breath on your neck and the feel of him as he rocked into you, just a little. Chan moved slowly, soft throbs as though he couldn't bear to pull all the way out.

You wanted him to keep going, could not have borne it either after being this united. He withdrew and pushed into you again, each time a little deeper until finally, he paused. Chan raised above, out of focus, leaning his forehead against yours. There were no words, so he didn't even try. Under your palms, his shoulders were shaky, unstable, and you held on tighter. His hips were pressed into yours, your bodies banded together in a crowning figure.

When Chan moved again it was almost unplanned, a primitive impulse to keep going, feel you, own you. Deadened sounds that could have come from either of you broke the silence of the room, as reserved and furtive as a secret. He pushed into you repeatedly, breathing hollowing with each thrust. His hips became more insistent, hitting yours. Your legs opened of their own accord allowing him deeper, closer. A sense of urgency you had never felt before overpowered you. You tugged him down to claim his mouth, his breath came in pants, hot in your mouth. Your body had started to rock in rhythm as he grinded into you. Chan's own desperation rendered more evident by the way he moved.

His hand slid down on your thigh, pulling you tighter against him, caging himself. You obliged following his lead, both learning together. His head fell back in the crook of your neck, too heavy to be held.

“I love you,” Chan growled in your ear, so unrecognizable it sent shivers across your skin.

You clung to his neck, carried by the need to possess him. “I love you,” your words were hoarse, weak compared to his but his hold still tightened impossibly around you.

He drove into you harder, greedily. Your fingers threaded together, holding on tight as he pressed you to the bed. Overwhelmed by both the need to escape this building throb and wanting to get more of him at the same time, you arched up. Chan's rhythm was stuttering, coming apart as he lost grip on reality. You tilted your hips, spasming around him, unable to keep going and his body shuddered into yours.

Chan held you tight as he came, roughly crushing you into the mattress. You would've protested at the weight, but nothing had ever felt more right than having him inside you like that. He rolled next to you soon after, length falling out.

Silence shrouded your room as both your breathing lulled, solemn witness to the gravity of your conduct. Trembling, Chan pulled your nightgown down to cover your modesty, burning hand lingering on your thigh. You were still squished, held strongly against him and he showed no desire to depart.

“My Lord,” you murmured into his chest, making it shake in response.

“Yes. I am afraid you are stuck with me now, Princess.”

“Oh, what a shame.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled, hugging even tighter.

“So, you have no choice but to come back now.”

If he hadn’t noticed your burden earlier, your comment certainly raised alarm.

“Y/n,” Chan exhaled, prudent. He gazed down at you, peering through his lashes. “Why would you even say that?” He had meant to say it lightly, but something in his tone hinted he wasn’t so honest. Which he realized right away; “I will be back.”

“Mmm...” You held your breath nervously, “Because you promised.”

He brought your hand to his mouth, “Promise.” He kissed it lightly before frowning, “Only if you behave with Sir Park while I'm away.”

“Jinyoung,” you repeated in disbelief at his seemingly random request, “I never thought I'd see the day...”

Chan laughed hollowly, a little easier. “He's not all bad.”

“You know, he said something similar about you earlier… Though I am certain his opinion would wave in light of recent affairs.”

“He did not.” You heard the smile in his voice, muffled by your hair.

“No,” he laughed once more, mouth now pressed to your forehead, “but I assure you I am very well behaved whenever you are not involved, Lord Bang. Everyone knows I am the moral one.”

“Are you, Princess?” Chan rolled over, raising on his elbow to eye you suspiciously. He had found his new natural position between your legs and your heartbeat quickened. “You have stolen my virtue. The bed isn’t even cold yet.”

“No reasonable soul would believe that.”

You tugged him down for a deep kiss, swallowing his laughter; “What a regent and ruthless thing to say, you are going to be good at this ruling thing.” Chan grinded forward with the kiss and you arched reflectively. He hummed in appreciation, “my Queen...”

“My King,” you found yourself echoing nauseatingly.

His chest vibrated against yours in a strangled sound, "I should be on my way."

His impossibly large grin widened when he witnessed your dissatisfied scowl. Chan gathered his clothes and got dressed under your cold scrutiny. Too fast, his bare legs disappeared into his trousers. His vest was next, covering his thin shirt. You pouted, still a wreck on your mattress in your sheer attire. Your room seemed awfully freezing now that you had gotten a taste of what it would be like to share a bed with your husband.

Chan seemed to notice your shiver when you sat up and he cautiously neared the bed. His index raised your chin to force your gazes to meet.

“I do mean it,” he said with a grave voice you rarely knew him, “listen to your advisor and the Queen. You must be particularly careful until I return.”

“Chan,” you hushed, the name barely coming out, “you are the one who needs to be, the Duke–”

Your warning got stiffled by his lips and he delivered, almost making you lose your mind all over. When Chan straightened again, there was a darker glint to his eyes. Barely there before he blinked it to oblivion, but it was enough for you to know your cautioning would've been vain.

He wasn't a child anymore and he certainly was not a pawn to his uncle.

“Do not write anything too scandalous in those letters you promised, love.” Back to his usual poise, Chan was walking back to his exit. “I am positive Sir Park is intercepting our correspondence.”

This managed to make you grin at least, loosening the knot in your stomach. "Of course."

“That must be why the man loathes me,”

“That is just him being wise.”

Chan chuckled lowly, glancing at your bedroom door as he balanced his feet outside your window. “Before the first snowfall, love.” He winked as you shook your head in disbelief, “Thank you for the farewell favour, I am looking forward to our nuptials, Princess.”

And at that, he was gone into the night, your heart and virtue with him.

The separation didn't loom over you like the proverbial sword of Damocles anymore and it wasn't long before you fell asleep that night.

Because you knew this would not be the last you'd see of your playful lover...

Stray Kids | M.list

598 notes · View notes

nalu4emily · 3 years

Text

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 17

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Rated Mature.

"Hey, Flame head! Wait up!" Gray called over, catching the fire mage as he hurriedly made for the guild's exit. "Where're you going in such hurry?"

Turning to catch the ice mage walking straight for him, Natsu stopped to answer, "Home. I left Lucy and Haru asleep this morning, so I better get back to 'em."

"Oh... You've not been at the guild much lately, is everything cool with you?" The ice mage pushed further.

"Uh… Yeah! Been kinda busy and stuff, ya know." The slayer shrugged, not seeming too interested in divulging any further information.

"Well, are ya too busy to come on a mission? It's been some time since our last job together as a team." Gray asked, scratching the back of his head.

"It has been a while, now you mention it… I'd have to ask Lucy if she's feeling up to it yet, she's still not feeling too good… Anyway, catch ya later!" Natsu spoke cheerily and turned back towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle.

"Lucy's been sick for an awfully long time now, Natsu." He heard another voice say, halting him in his tracks, "Are you sure there's not something else going on?" Lisanna came up and elbowed him playfully in the arm.

"Hm?" He replied, retracting his arm back to his side.

"That's right! Lucy hasn't shown her face in months now. Has something happened? Are you guys having relationship issues?!" Levy gasped at the thought, her eyes wide with her mouth hung low.

"Relationship issues?" Natsu cocked his eyebrow in disdain; what kind of nonsense was that?

"I think you're getting a little carried away there, Shrimp. You've been reading too many books again." Gajeel teased, poking Levy's pouted cheek as he came up from behind. "And Lucy hasn't been gone that long… has she?"

"How suspicious… His beloved is sick and yet he's not with her!" Juvia murmured, appearing creepily behind Gray, making him shudder. "What is he hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything! You guys are looking way too much into this." Natsu lied, but for good reason.

The truth was a little more complicated than that. With Lucy being so unwell, she'd not been able to leave the confines of their house, having suffered greatly in the first months of her pregnancy. It'd been hard for the both of them, but Natsu had promised to look after her—to not leave her side, and he'd kept to his word. Having skipped out on job after job, and taking longer and longer breaks between each visit to the guild, it was only natural for their friends to worry and speculate, but it did put him right in the firing line.

He was wasting time. He had to get back to his partner and son, it wasn't fair to keep them waiting. The guild would get their long awaited answers when Lucy returned, which with any luck, would be very soon.

"Can I go now? I got things to take care of." Natsu huffed, starting to get frustrated with their incessant intrusiveness.

Trying to slip out from under the guilds snooping nose, the fire mage was beginning to question whether that was even an option any more, not with the amount of people now crowding him, wanting in on the action. He just hoped the great Titania didn't decide to intervene, then he'd be doomed.

"What things would that be then, Natsu? You're not usually this secretive." Lisanna hinted again, even more curious than before. "I thought you said you had to go home?"

"Just leave the kid alone, he's got his reasons." Laxus shrugged nonchalantly, pretending not to be interested, when really he'd heard everything.

"Yes, listen to Laxus!" Freed jumped in, also creepily appearing out of no where, making the lightning mage quiver. "Natsu doesn't need you all pestering him!"

Said boy sighed, glad to have someone on side and took the opportunity to make his leave—But things were never going to be that easy. The slayer found himself almost smacking his head against the thick, wooden door frame, utterly exasperated, when yet another of his guild mates decided to pipe up and add their two pennies worth.

"Yes, you're right. However, doesn't he usually have the kid with him? Why not today? So many questions that have yet to be answered. It makes you wonder really…" Evergreen chortled to the dubious guild members, hiding her conniving smirk behind her fan.

This was getting out of hand! They were just going 'round and around in circles and at this rate he would never leave. Being backed into a corner, he had no idea what was really going on. His guild mates were chucking all sorts of nonsensical bullshit at him.

Who knew what they were accusing him of? Because he sure as hell didn't know, and was pretty convinced now that they didn't either.

"I've already said Haru's at home with Lucy… The only reason I'm here, is to check in with Mira to make sure everything's ready for his party later. You know, for his birthday today." He explained once again, sighing loudly and slumping forward in despair. "I wasn't gonna bring him in early and spoil the surprise, now was I?"

He wouldn't have bothered with any of it, if it hadn't been for the take over mage and her desire to throw some massive party for the little boy, such was the way of Fairy Tail. But this time, Natsu would've much preferred to celebrate at home where Lucy could be present to enjoy it, too. However, Mira had made her own plans, having suddenly sprung the idea upon the unknowing young man one day in passing, and had given him little choice in the matter—his ultimatum much scarier than Erza could ever be.

"We're well aware of the little one's birthday celebrations today, Natsu." Erza's stern voice echoed through the hall, startling everyone into silence and swiftly marched herself right up to the slayer's retreating body. His heart raced as his worst fear became reality and felt a wave of dread as she approached at speed, her hardened features coming in way too close for his comfort. "However, that doesn't mean I'm any less suspicious of you."

"But why?! There's nothing to be suspicious about, I swear!" Holding his hands up in submission, the fire mage was stunned into silence; his mouth dropping open in disbelief; why were they all so hell bent on this? What even was this? He'd told them what he could; what more did they want? "Lucy and Haru are at home where I left them… What else do you want me to tell you?"

"So secretive and elusive… like you have something to hide. Have you no shame?" Ignoring Natsu's plea, the armoured girl had already come to her own conclusions and summoned one of her treasured swords to point directly at the slayer, her icy glare not the only thing threatening to pierce through him, "Our Natsu would never act like this! He's impulsive and reckless and just downright stupid! What have you done with the real one?"

The fire mage would've taken offence, had the red head not so angrily directed her sharp sword at the bridge of his nose. Narrowing his eyes at the sharp metal so close to him, he gulped thickly, praying to whatever god there was, that today of all days, Lucy might just walk through those big doors, saving him from the hell that was Erza Scarlet.

He shook in his sandals, showered in sweat as the red heads sword tip made contact with his skin, pushing his head right up against the wall, "B-But I am the real Natsu…"

"Then prove it! Explain yourself, now!" She was taking no shit from her fiery companion, not after convincing herself that he was, indeed, an imposter.

Desperate not to be on the receiving end of Erza's wrath, Natsu opened his mouth to speak, but just as quickly shut it again when the old guild doors suddenly creaked open. The sound of an infants voice followed by bickering between two others could be heard filling the loud silence, abruptly halting the interrogation of the defeated fire breather.

"See, Happy! I told you he'd be in here!" The young woman pointed, her eyes landing right on the dragon boy she'd been arguing with flying cat about, only realising moments later the presence of Erza's sword and every eyeball in the building staring unashamedly at her, "Uh… Am I interrupting something?"

"Lucy... you're here..." Natsu croaked in relief, never more glad to see his beautiful girlfriend as he sank to the floor. His voice cracking from the genuine fear the older girl had provoked in him, her sword now fully removed from his face. "My sweet saviour…"

"Uh-oh! Is Natsu in trouble again?" Happy giggled, glancing over at his pink haired friend, taking pity on his horror-stricken features.

"Lucy… You're alive?" Erza stated more than asked, stomping over to the young blonde to inspect her further.

"U-Uh…" The girl in question looked down at herself, confirming that she was definitely alive before looking back up again, confusion etched into her expression. "D-Do you want me to answer that?"

"Maybe you should lay off her a little; I'm sure Lucy's had it rough enough." Gray proclaimed bravely, unable to make eye contact with the unsettled knight.

"Please don't scare her off, not when she's only just returned!" Levy all but pushed Erza out of the way and threw herself at the blonde, who was now trying to balance the new weight along with the baby and herself. "I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you, Lu!"

"I've missed you too, Levy, but I'm sure Natsu's kept you updated." Lucy reassured her, then looked up to all of her other friends, "Hasn't he?"

"Natsu told us you hadn't been feeling well, but that's a suspiciously long illness Lucy, one I hope has a good explanation for making us all worry so much." Erza explained, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That's one long tummy bug!" Mira giggled, walking over to the ever growing group to stand near Lucy. "Anyone would think that you were p-" She paused, eyes growing wide with realisation and darted them down to the stellar mages midriff, before promptly fainting on the spot.

"Huh? Mira! Would think, what?! What were you going to say?!" Lisanna yelled, desperately trying to wake her sister up.

"Oh! I get it!" Gray understood, thinking back to the weird conversation he'd had with Natsu in the park and how it all made perfect sense now. "It definitely explains that idiots weird behaviour." He reached out to pat Lucy on the shoulder affectionately and smiled at her, then turned to smirk at said fire mage still recoiling on the ground. "So that's the way you wanna play? Game on, Pyro!"

Turning his head, Natsu smirked back, accepting the silent challenge as he jumped back up to his feet, looking cocky as ever, "You know it, Frosty!"

"Wait, what does Gray know? Is he a part of it too?" Levy gasped, pointing her accusatory finger at the demon slayer.

"Hell no!" Natsu and Gray yelled out in defence, both offended and totally disgusted by the very thought.

"Then what? What is going on here?" Cana shouted from her bench, having heard everything. "Quit with the suspense and just be out with it already!"

"Juvia understands." Out of the shadows, said water mage appeared before her once 'love rival' and smiled happily at the girl she was about to congratulate, "Juvia is so very happy for you both!" She looked down to her own rounded tummy and placed a hand on it, a noticeable difference in size to Lucy's, "They will be the best of friends, Juvia is sure of it."

Lucy's smile reached the corners of her eyes, relieved the rain woman didn't see this as another rivalry, like their partners apparently did, "Thanks Juvia, I'm sure they will be, despite what their father's might think." They both giggled at the expense of the boys gormlessly standing there, along with the rest of the guild, who still had no idea.

"Hold up! So, what does that mean? You're having a baby too, Lucy?" Lisanna asked, cradling her sisters limp body.

The guild's eyes fell to Lucy, more specifically her stomach where if they looked closely, they would see a small, but noticeable bump stretching out her pink summer dress. She could see the expectant faces of her friends waiting for her to answer, and the warm presence of her beloved dragon slayer come to stand next to her, obviously noticing her hesitancy.

"Natsu, I think you should tell them, I know you're dying to." She murmured, her voice quiet but firm.

"Are ya sure, Luce?" He asked, assuming she'd want to do it after all this time, but seeing the certainty in her eyes and the bright smile lifting her cheeks, he took her hand and turned back to the crowd, not needing any more confirmation than that. He glanced at each person in turn, a sense of pride filling his chest as the words left his mouth, "Heck yeah, we are!"

The entire guild erupted in a chorus of whistles and loud cheers, shaking the very foundations of the building in their excitement for the couple, "Oh, wow! Thanks guys! You're too kind!" Lucy's smile shone brighter than it had done in ages, overwhelmed with glee that their guild mates were so pleased for them.

"They've all been worried about ya, Luce." Natsu whispered closely so only she could hear and leaned in to kiss her cheek, knowing just how much this all meant to her. He took the excitable little guy off her hands, giving her the freedom to catch up with everybody.

"I knew it! I knew there was something fishy about you two! But congratulations guys, that's great news!" Levy cheered, ready to get down to the nitty gritty of every dirty detail.

"You had us worried there, Lucy. For a while, I thought you were never coming back!" Lisanna shared, hugging the celestial mage tightly, probably a little too tight.

"Oh… I'm sorry to have made you all worry, but I'm feeling much better now." The blonde explained, a light tint of pink dusting her cheeks from all the attention she was getting.

She could see Natsu hadn't moved too far away from her and tilted her head to look at him. Chuckling to herself, she could hear Erza try to apologise to him, suggesting the boy punch her right in the face for making such a mistake, a suggestion that was right up his alley, if it weren't for Haru in his arms.

Catching his beautiful blonde staring at him through the corner of his eye, he turned in her direction and winked, grinning as he held the little boy up on his shoulders to walk back over to her, "You feeling alright, Luce?" He asked, worried she may have forced herself into attending the celebrations before she was ready.

She nodded shyly, a little taken aback by the overwhelming attention she was receiving. Feeling his hand once again take hold of hers, she stared up into his confident eyes, then up to the child having the time of his life on his fathers shoulders, "I'm okay, but today's about Haru, not me, and I wasn't gonna miss this for the world." She grinned up at the small boy and reached up to stroke his cheek affectionately, chuckling at his enormous smile.

"You're right! Come on, Lucy! I wanna show you what we've done!" Natsu all but dragged the poor girl outside, Haru and Happy in tow, to show her the sheer amount of effort that had gone in to making Haru's first birthday, special.

The entire guilds courtyard had been lit up like a Christmas tree, with nothing left untouched. Banners and bunting of every colour hung from every post, table and tree. Tables upon tables of delicious food had been laid out with the most gargantuan home made birthday cake (courtesy of Mira) proudly sat in the middle of it all. An enormous pile of gifts had also been laid out, all individually wrapped with little cards to say whom they were from and most importantly, the pool had been filled with all kinds of fun inflatables and toys for all the children to play with.

Lucy looked around in amazement. She couldn't believe they'd gone to so much effort just for a one year old, a child that would unfortunately never remember this, but it didn't matter, she and Natsu would for him. "This is incredible, Natsu! I can't believe you did all this without me!"

"Don't sound too surprised; I can help organise things when I want to. And it wasn't all me, Mira came up with the idea." He looked up to the child above him and chuckled, "You like it, Haru?" The child had no idea what was going on, with no concept of birthdays or parties, he simply cheered anyway, responding to his Daddy's infectious grin, "Good! Well then Luce, let's get this party started!"

With his grin turning evil, he squeezed her hand tight and dived head first into the pool, with no consideration for his, Lucy's or Haru's clothing. She yelped at the top of her voice, her only reply a cackle before being submerged under water, thus setting the mood for the rest of the day.

After a full afternoon of playing with the other children, eating lots of cake and other treats, and opening presents, Haru found himself in the pool once again, this time in more appropriate attire for the water. A pair of cute little lion themed trunks (gifted by Loke), and a cute turtle inflatable ring adorning his middle (a present from Lisanna), made it much easier for him to stay above the surface while enjoying a swim in the water.

Natsu, in his usual flamed swim shorts, also found himself in the pool, diving under and popping back up in random places to surprise the little boy. Haru loved a good game of peek-a-boo, the anticipation of where his Daddy was going to pop up next was just too exhilarating. He squealed and laughed every time he resurfaced, then his eyes would grow wide in anticipation when he dived back down again.

"Gotcha!" Natsu exclaimed, appearing behind the little guy and grabbing his sides. "Does Haru want a go?" He asked, lifting him out of the rubber ring and holding him above the surface with just his hands, letting the infant tread the water to keep himself up, "Look at you! You'll be swimming in no time!"

Lucy watched on from her sun lounger, not remotely amused that the slayer had got her cute dress soaked, or that she now had to lay in just her pastel blue bikini, feeling somewhat self conscious with everyone staring at her exposed belly. She laid comfortably basking in the hot sunlight kissing her skin, trying to catch some semblance of a tan, relaxing while she could. She felt happy, content even, thankful that her symptoms had calmed down just in time for Haru's big day.

It'd been a long time since she'd been able to do this without having to run to the bathroom. With no spell or potion being strong enough to truly rid her of the awful feeling, she'd become well acquainted with the toilet in their house, having spent most of her time with her nose down it. It'd been hard over the last few months adapting to her changing body, her wild mood swings and questionable cravings, but she also knew it would be worth it in the end and it was on days like this, with her friends and loved ones surrounding her that she sincerely felt it.

Smiling to herself, Lucy placed her hand on her small, protruding stomach, feeling the tiny flutterings of the little one moving around inside, "You're an active little one today." She giggled, looking to be talking to herself by onlookers, but she didn't mind. "Then again, you're active everyday."

"Juvia's baby is quite active too, but he's closer to his due date than yours and is much bigger." Juvia said, coming to sit on the next lounger. She cradled her own, much larger bump that'd been covered by a flowy, light green summer dress, finding her regular clothes to form fitting and hot to wear now. "It's quite the feeling when he does somersaults in Juvia's belly."

"He? You're having a boy?" Lucy asked, intrigued to learn more and catch up with her friend.

"Yes, Porlyusica told us the last time we visited. Juvia always imagined she'd have a little boy, maybe watching Haru has something to do with that." She gleamed, looking over to the small fella splashing about in the pool still, having the time of his life with his father.

"I'm so pleased for you! I bet Gray was thrilled!" The blonde exclaimed, knowing he would be.

"Of course! Gray was very pleased. In fact, he made us go out and buy all the boys clothes we could find in the market afterwards. Then he took Juvia home and made-"

"No, it's okay… I don't think I need to know any more!" Lucy felt her cheeks burn red at the very thought.

"Made Juvia dinner…" The water mage finished, furrowing her brows at Lucy's assumption.

"O-Oh… Oops! Sorry Juvia, I thought you were going to say that you guys-"

"Made love? I think those hormones are getting the better of you, Lucy." Cana appeared, wagging her imaginary tail at the slightest mention of sex. "They say you get more horny when you're pregnant. I bet you and Natsu are at it all of the time? Actually, I'm kinda surprised he's not over here right now, with you looking all juicy like that!"

"Cana!" Lucy spluttered, her cheeks burning even more furiously. "You can't say things like that in public!" She didn't want to discuss her sex life in front of others, even if what they were saying was true—when she wasn't heaving of course.

"She's right though, Lucy. Juvia hasn't been unable to keep her hands off of Gray." The blue haired girl reaffirmed, her eyes like love hearts as she thought of her beloved Gray. "And Gray hasn't been able to keep his hands off Juvia, either."

"Wow, looking kinda smug there… You were like that any way…" Cana murmured, shaking her head at the love struck girl.

Well, there went Lucy's relaxing in silence, now she could barely keep from her head exploding—Good ol' Cana! "I don't wanna hear any more!" The celestial mage reiterated, covering her ears for emphasis.

"Oh, come on, Lucy! You're pregnant! That didn't happen by accident! You and Natsu knew exactly what you were doing." Cana retorted, moving herself closer to the flustered girl, her boozy breath permeating the air.

"U-Uh… Well… No, actually. It was kind of an accident…" Lucy admitted, feeling a little awkward by saying that out loud, her friends surprised faces not helping matters, "But it was a good accident!"

"Huh… And here I was thinking you were the cautious type, Lucy… Not that it matters. It's good to let the mood just take ya." Cana grinned, her shock forgotten.

"Don't look so ashamed Lucy, you'll both have another sweet baby to call your own and that's a wonderful thing. I imagine Natsu was over the moon when you both found out." Mira beamed her usual motherly smile as she came to sit near them all, having wanted to get the details on Lucy's pregnancy since earlier, "If Juvia's is a boy, then I bet yours is going to be a girl, Lucy."

"You think so?" The blonde asked back, never having actually considered what the sex would be before, but the thought of having a little girl join the family sounded rather appealing, especially in a house dominated by boys.

"Yes, with Haru as well, we need a little girl to make it more even. And she's gonna have the cutest pink hair and big brown eyes, I can just see it now!" Mira was off in a little world of her own, thinking of blue haired baby boys and pink haired baby girls—she was incorrigible.

"Boy or girl, I just hope that after living in a house full of ravenous beasts, this little one might be more like me. Haru's just a dark haired Natsu, he even laughs like him." Lucy placed her hand where she could feel the little movements of her baby and chuckled down, "But who am I kidding? You've already got your father's energy, that's for sure."

"Hey! Don't say that like it's a bad thing, Luce!" Natsu overheard as he appeared out of no where. "There's nothing wrong with having a mini-me, ain't that right, kid?" He hi-fived the now dry child in his arms, having already dried himself using his magic. "Who cares what they are or who they look like? You'll be in there somewhere, Luce; you're their mother, after all."

"Yeah, you're right." She said, always fascinated by Natsu's simplistic, yet logical way of thinking.

"Any way, it's getting kinda late, I was gonna take Haru somewhere a bit more quiet," Natsu gestured to the current brawl taking place behind him.

"Leaving so soon?" Mira asked, standing to say goodbye to the grizzly birthday boy.

"Yeah, he's all pooped out from the busy day he's had and I think he's ready to go to sleep now. Thanks for organising it, Mira!" He said, before turning swiftly to Lucy, "You coming?"

The bikini clad girl jumped to her feet and stretched her arms up, feeling the tiredness begin to set in, completely unaware of her partners roaming gaze, "Yeah, sure... Just let me put my dress-"

"Lucy! Watch out!" She heard Natsu shout suddenly as she bent to grab the item of clothing.

Feeling herself being pushed back onto the sun lounger, she flailed and reached her arms out to catch herself. Darting her eyes up to see what was going on, she was met with the exposed back of the dragon slayer that had moved to shield her from something. Smoke clouded him and the infant; an unfamiliar heat emanated off of his body. The girl hadn't seen what'd happened, or what she'd been saved from, but if the harsh, heavy breathing of the man in front of her was anything to go by, it was a close call.

"Natsu…" She started, but stalled there after, unsure of what more to say to him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing, you old geezer! Do you have any idea what could've happened just then?!" Natsu bellowed, his voice teeming with rage as his eyes narrowed at the culprit. "You're lucky I was here to catch your stupid attack, or that would've gone straight for Lucy!"

The brawl had come to a complete stand still and Macao, the one that'd thrown a fire ball initially at Wakaba, had gone ghostly pale as the dragon slayer's piercing gaze stared him down. "Hey man, I'm sorry… I didn't even know she was there, it was an accident!" He held his hands up in submission, not wanting to enter into a fight with the maddened slayer, knowing that was one he'd never win. "We got a little carried away, that's all."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I should go all out and see how you like it? Try and dodge this one!" Natsu roared, sending a blazing ball of fury of his own hurtling through the air, aiming it right at Macao's cowering body. Turning hotfooted back to Lucy, the distant cries of the offender being struck by his magic was like music to his ears, his anger satiated.

"Are you hurt, Luce? Did anything hit you?" He did a full search of her body, checking for any kind of injury. His worried eyes eventually fell upon her exposed belly and instinctually brought his hand out to caress it softly, "Is the baby okay?"

Smiling up at him, she brought her own hand to rest on his cheek and pulled him closer, loving just how protective he could be, "Of course, our baby's fine. No need to worry." She guided his palm to where the little one was doing somersaults and allowed him to feel the light pads against his skin.

Unable to keep his infectious grin down for long, he pushed his mouth hastily against Lucy's in a kiss that turned heated all too quickly. Buzzing with adrenaline from the incident, Natsu moved his hand from her belly and tangled his fingers into her hair, holding her in place as he enjoyed the taste of her warm lips.

"That's it, fire breath, you took it too far this time!" He heard Gray shout from behind him, knocking him out of his 'Lucy' trance and pull away, glancing over his shoulder, "Look at what you've done to the pool, you dumbass!" The ice mage pointed to the steaming pit that was once the guilds pool, fuming at the state of it.

"Ha! Looks like you and Juvia are gonna have a fun time filling that back up!" Natsu guffawed, passing the fidgety Haru to Lucy.

"Screw you, Pinky! You're going down!" Gray threatened, launching himself at the fire wizard and starting yet another brawl.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy looked down at the sleepy boy rubbing his tired eyes, and decided to creep away from the fight that just seemed to be attracting more and more people, "Come on then, sweetheart. It looks like Daddy's got himself distracted again." She chuckled, disappearing back inside before anyone had noticed she was gone.

By the time the evening swept in, Lucy had found herself a quiet spot up on a small hill a little ways from the guild, overlooking the lake behind it. She sat cosily against one of the many old oak trees, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the baby laid across her chest, begrudgingly, but slowly falling asleep. She hummed her sweet lullaby to soothe her tuckered out child, hoping to coax him into closing his eyes.

It was moments like this that she cherished the most with Haru, just her and him with no one to interrupt. The atmosphere was peaceful and calm, exactly what she was looking for compared to the ruckus that was the guild's 'after' party that continued on down the street. She could even hear the rumble of their antics from where she sat, but luckily, it was pretty muffled, unable to spoil her quietude.

After weeks of staying at home, it sure made a pleasant change to be watching the sunset instead. She'd grown tired and achy after such a busy day, her feet were sore and her head had grown weary, but still she watched contented as the beautiful evening began to fade.

The young mother could finally hear the soft, even breaths of the slumbering child and gently placed him upon her bent up legs, covering him with her blanket to keep him from feeling the chill in the air. Staring at his little angelic features, she found it hard to fathom how drastically her life had changed compared to just twelve months before. She'd grown so much as a person and gained everything she'd ever wanted and more, making new memories along the way.

She and Natsu had unknowingly plunged themselves into a completely new world, taking on the responsibility of an abandoned child and calling him their own. Haru had opened their eyes to a life they never thought they'd get to experience, especially not with each other. The little boy had brought them together in a way that would forever bind them, creating the family unit they were today. It only seemed fitting to name this day as Haru's official birthday, for it was the day his life, and theirs, had begun anew.

Leaning her head back against the tree, becoming lost in her memories, her eyelids began to close, a wave of exhaustion rushing over her while sleep tempted her in. A rustle of a nearby bush was quick to quash that feeling though, as a startled Lucy snapped her eyes wide open and darted her head over to where the sound had come from.

"Oh, Natsu… It's just you…" She breathed, laying her bleary eyes onto that familiar toothy grin and untameable pink hair, a scaly, white scarf to match. "Tell me, what were you doing hiding in the bushes?"

"Looking for you." He said simply, walking out onto the hillside to join her, having deliberately left out the part that he'd been hiding there for much longer than he'd care to admit. In fact, one might say he'd been there the entire time, watching the beauty that was Lucy quietly sing their son to sleep and hadn't wanted to disturb her until she'd finished. "You left, so I had to come find ya."

"Oh, you didn't have to. I just wanted to settle Haru before he started getting grumpy. It's nice and quiet out here." Her voice sounded airy and light, her eyes half lidded and a little bloodshot. "You can go back and join the others if you want, I'm okay." She offered, but Natsu knew better than that, he always did.

"You don't have to pretend for me, Lucy. I can see how tired you are." He'd learnt pretty quickly in the past few months that pregnancy didn't just make her exceptionally sick, but that it had an array of different symptoms, some physical and others emotional, but all unpleasant and incredibly draining for her. "Why would I leave any way, you're all out here?"

"Happy's not."

"Yeah, and Happy's capable of looking after himself. He's too interested in Carla to notice we're even gone. You know what he's like." Natsu explained, scooting closer to Lucy to take the infant from her legs.

He set the baby down in his lap to keep him warm, the fluffy blanket tightly swaddling his body. The two mages cuddled up to one another, watching the twinkling stars come out to glimmer and shine down onto the glistening water in the distance.

"It's crazy to think it's been an entire year since we brought him home. Who knows where we'd be without him here?" Lucy reminisced, her gaze drifting from the moonlit lake, to the baby snoring peacefully without a single care in the world. "Or where his life might've gone, if we hadn't taken him in."

"We'd be what we always were," Natsu stated bluntly, tearing his own gaze away to look at the girl beside him, "Best friends, going on adventures and honestly, that's kinda the sad truth of it all. As for Haru…" He glanced down at his cuddled up son, smiling sadly as he remembered the first time he ever set eyes on the tiny, lifeless baby, that fateful day, "I made a promise to keep him safe; to make sure he lived… He was always going to come with me, there was never another choice. I just didn't know it then."

"And I'll be forever grateful that he did, because..." Lucy cleared her throat, feeling a little emotional at the thought, "Now, I have you and him! And nothing has ever made me happier! Choosing to adopt a child was the most daunting thing I've ever done, but it's proven to be the best decision I've ever made, one I'll always be thankful for." She gave her own toothy smile, a slight tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she poured her heart out to him.

Natsu felt his heart squeeze tight, her words reminiscent of his own feelings and quirked his lips up at her. Reaching his hand forward, he smoothed his fingers through her golden locks, before coming to rest it under her ear, guiding her to him, "Me too, Luce. Which is why…"

Lucy's breathing deepened the closer she got and felt his other hand come up to hold hers tenderly, paying no mind to him fiddling with her fingers, "Which is why, what? Is there something else?" She asked, cocking her head cutely as their breaths began to mingle. "Natsu?" Her eyes fluttered between his dark ones, waiting expectantly for him to finish.

"I… I wanna ask you something." He murmured just before claiming her mouth, connecting their lips in a kiss so sickly sweet, it made Lucy's belly fill with butterflies.

She could have melted into a puddle right then and there, the feel of his affections always had a way of making her turn to goo in his hands. Her spine shivered and the adrenaline buzzed through her system, not having the capacity to comprehend the words that'd been spoken, for her mind had been taken over by the feel of his hot mouth. Letting go of her hand, he snaked his fingers up to the other side of her neck and pulled her closer, craving those sweet cherry lips that he liked to nip at with his teeth.

Her fingers were now free to roam and touch as they pleased, tangling them up through his hair and tugging on the pink strands at the base of his neck. Desperate for breath, she pulled herself away and gazed into his half lidded eyes for mere seconds, before he impatiently delve down to ravish her neck. The sucking and biting just under her ear caused small gasps and whimpers to escape the increasingly aroused celestial mage, her eyes fogging with lust, until something bright caught her attention.

"What was that?" She asked panting, her voice raspy as she tried to catch sight of whatever it was again. It had flickered like a light, shined like a reflection and sparkled all at once, making her wonder if she'd really seen anything at all.

"What was what, Lucy?" He asked her, not meaning to sound quite so unsurprised, when usually he was the first to go looking for trouble.

"I thought I saw…" She didn't really know what she'd seen, her mind too muddled from the heated moment they were having; maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks? Or worse… someone was spying on them.

Natsu clasped at the hand she had buried in his hair and brought it into view, "Was it this, maybe?" He asked, drawing attention to one specific digit.

Feeling the contrast between his warm skin and the cold hardness of something else against her finger, Lucy peered down in curiosity, her breath stalling when her eyes laid upon the object of confusion. Gasping loudly, she clasped at her mouth, two enlarged chocolate orbs flickered between him and her hand in utter astonishment. Somehow, in the midst of their make out session, Natsu had managed to band the most simplistic, yet beautiful ring onto her finger, where it sat proudly and spoke of untold intentions.

"It's… I-It's beautiful! B-But how did you- When-" She stuttered, too lost in what this all might mean, searching deep within his dark eyes for the answers to her silent, but obvious questions.

"That's the right finger, isn't it?" He asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous, a small pink hue dabbing his cheeks. His heart was beating much quicker than he would've liked, hoping he hadn't screwed up already.

That was all she needed to hear to confirm her suspicions, her brown eyes wet with unshed tears, "N-Natsu, I… I don't know what to say-" She couldn't speak, this was too much and he'd not said anything yet.

"Lucy…" He spoke with every sincerity, taking the ringed hand and entwined their fingers. "I'm not so good with this stuff, but I know that getting married is important to you, which makes it important to me, too. I promised you forever and I guess you could say, this is me making good on that promise." He caressed her soft cheek with his thumb and smiled when he saw the glint in her eyes shine back at him. "So, what do you say? Prepared to commit yourself to this," he gestured to himself and winked playfully, "For the rest of your life?"

Finding herself unable to keep her emotions in check, the girl didn't answer, but instead, launched herself at him, giving him barely any time to move the slumbering child out of the way and brace for impact. Landing on top of the winded dragon slayer, she managed to catch herself with her hands and gleamed down at him, tears falling from her eyes and the smile on her face rivalling his. She leant down and connected their lips once again, taking the lead this time, unable to keep her happiness from pouring out.

To the side, still held in Natsu's opened out arm, was Haru, completely unaware of what was going down, his dreams taking him to far off places. His developing sibling in his Mommy's tummy, however, didn't seem quite so pleased, having been wedged between the two loved up adults as they made out under the sea of stars, had decided to take matters into their own hands. With one almighty kick, the kiss came to a quick halt when Lucy groaned and pulled back, grabbing hold of her bump to sooth the sore area.

"Jeez! Was that the baby kicking you? 'Cause even I felt that one!" Natsu looked surprised, amazed that their baby was so strong, at just five months, that he'd been able to feel the force of the kick against his own abdomen. "Is it still hurting, Luce? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, it just shocked me, that's all. They've never been quite that strong before." She chuckled, sitting herself up and straddling his hips as she looked down to her belly, gently caressing it with her thumb, "You were just trying to tell Mommy to move, weren't you?"

Balancing himself up onto his elbow, Natsu also placed his hand on top of Lucy's bump and smirked, "Or maybe, they were just tryin' to get their Mommy to say yes."

"Like you needed an answer!" Quirking her eyebrow up at his smirk, she shifted back a little as he sat himself up against the tree, laying Haru gently next to them while Lucy remained in place, "But you haven't actually asked me anything yet. Who knows what I could be agreeing to? This is you, after all."

The young man chuckled and grinned his thousand watt smile, knowing she'd catch him out eventually, "Alright, have it your way." The mischievous look on his face didn't disappear, even when he tried to take it seriously, "Will you marry me, Lucy?"

She returned his beaming smile with one of her own, glad to have heard it come from his mouth and nodded her head enthusiastically, "Of course, Natsu, the answer was always a yes."

"Good. Can I go back to kissing you now?" He asked, but didn't bother waiting for a reply and went to pull that enticing mouth back in for a third kiss, hoping this time there'd be no more interruptions in the forms of sparkling rings or unimpressed unborn babies.

But just as their lips were about to touch, Lucy paused ever so tantalisingly close to him and furrowed her brows, causing the boy to sigh impatiently, "What is it now?"

"Have you been holding on to that ring all day?" She enquired, only realising now that he must've got it from somewhere.

"Nah, not all day, just the party. I had to ask Happy to go and get it for me while you were distracted with Haru." Natsu explained, scratching the back of his head, "I was gonna do it myself, but stuff happened and then you suddenly showed up."

"Stuff… happened?" Now she was even more curious; what could've gone on in her absence?

"Yeah… them." He shivered still traumatised, pointing over to where Fairy Tail's guild hall stood, still alive and partying, and Lucy understood immediately just what he was referring to, giving her an insight into what she'd unsuspectingly walked in on earlier that day. "So, I had to change up my plans."

"Oh! Why didn't you just do it tomorrow instead? Rather than make it difficult for yourself." She asked, feeling a little smug when she saw the light go on in his brain.

She'd stumped him there. Always the brains of the operation, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that. He'd wanted to do it on a day that meant something to the both of them, but really, did it matter? The result would've been the same.

Noticing her cocky smirk and the playfulness in her eyes, he rose to the challenge, a fire in his belly, "Because, Miss Know-it-all, today was special, just like you said… And it wasn't difficult… I had it all under control…"

"Uh-huh…" She watched him become a little fidgety as if he weren't quite telling the truth and her smirk widened into a smug, toothy grin, "So you were just pretending to be scared when Erza was threatening you? I get it."

His eyes were sharp and intense, just like they were in battle, the one sided grin to boot as he bore into her playful expression, "Your playing with fire, Lucy…" His voice dangerous and brimming with cockiness.

"Then let it burn." She whispered close to his ear, barely able to get the words out before she found herself being forced onto her back, her hands held down above her head, with a fired up dragon slayer carefully leant over her form.

"You asked for it!" He growled, gulping down a large breath as he connected his mouth to the sensitive skin of her neck, torturing her senses with his loving but fierce embrace.

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

“Helpless” *FINALE*

Mwahahaha I got around the un-even numbering. Well, this is it! I hope you’ve enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I really need to make a Master List of all my “works”, but if you wanna check out my other stuff just type “Rafael Barba Imagine” into the search bar of my page.

As always, big thanks to my lovies:

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@word-scribbless

@chasingeverybreakingwave

The COMPLETE Collection:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

And without further ado, the CONCLUSION!!!!

After your shower and you were in some clean pink scrubs, you decided it would probably be best to go look for the squad. Apparently you were still “a suspect”, so you didn’t want to make it look like you were trying to flee or something.

You found your way back to the waiting room, but only Fin and Carisi were still there.

“...Where’d Benson and Rollins go?” You asked, glancing around the area.

“Well it’s like 4 am, they both have kids, I’d told them we’d update them if anything happened with Barba,” Carisi told you.

“Which you can now do,” Fin added, grabbing his jacket off a chair.

“...I’m sorry, what?” you asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be ‘watching’ me or something?”

“They combed your street and found the gun, the idiots tossed it as they were driving. And as far as your whole ‘hustling’ business, if Barba vouches for you, I’m not gonna bother with a shitload of paperwork just because you got some money out of some old white dudes,” Fin chuckled.

“So you’re off the hook, and I’d really like to sleep in my own bed,” Carisi patted your back as he walked out with Fin.

“I--Are you sure? Olivia isn’t gonna--”

“Olivia’s gonna be a lot of things, but none of it matters legally speaking. So y'all need to work that out on your own,” Fin held up his hands like he was washing his hands of the drama.

“Right. Well I’m sure the doctor will call her,” You really didn’t want to have to talk to her anymore than you needed to.

“Right. Night, Y/N” Carisi waved as they continued to walk down the hallway and out the front doors.

Okay, so now you were alone. On your own. In a hospital. Great.

Suddenly, you remembered the magical sticker. You pulled it out of the scrubs pocket and stuck it to your shoulder. Then you turned to the big doors that read

“ICU: Approved Personnel ONLY”

Well, you were in scrubs.You took a deep breath and made a sign of the cross before you walked confidently through the doors. Hopefully people would just assume you were a nurse.

You were met on the other side with a bustle of doctors and nurses running around, patients being pushed through the hallways; lots of machines were beeping, and you could hear a CODE BLUE down the hall.

“Please don’t be Rafael Please don’t be Rafael…” you closed your eyes and whispered, but were quickly interrupted.

“Excuse me sweetie, are you lost?” An older male doctor tapped your shoulder.

“Oh um-- yeah YES. I am,” you lied. This is what you did best, just roll with it.

“It’s my first day, and I got separated from my group. We were doing rounds, and I believe our next room was the ADA?”

“The ADA…?” The doctor started typing in his tablet, as if someone would add “The ADA of New York” in his patient notes.

“I think his name is Ralph something,” you lied; a nurse wouldn’t be all on the up and up of law people, would they?

“Ah. Rafael Barba. Oh you’re right, it says VIP PATIENT here. He must be something special,”

“He really is,” You sighed, causing the doctor to look at you funny.

“I mean, so I’ve heard,”

“Well it says here DO NOT DISTURB, so I don’t believe you were doing rounds in his room…” The doctor raised an eyebrow as he tilted the tablet towards you. You saw “ROOM 304” next to Rafael’s name.

“Oh, you know what you’re right! I think they said we were NOT rounding on him, y’know cuz he’s the ADA,” You gent;y rubbed your shoulder against his. “I must’ve gotten mixed up because of your beautiful blue eyes,” you batted your lashes, to which the elderly doctor happily ate up.

“Oh well, no harm no foul,” He smiled.

“Ok well I’m sure I can find them, thank you doctor!” you gave him the cheesiest smile and a wink, walking away quickly. You made it into an elevator right before it closed. Luckily, the only other person in it was “Another” nurse, who looked like she might pass out right there in the elevator; she paid you no mind.

You hit FLOOR 3 and rode up to the floor, practically jumping out of the elevator. You turned to see signs that pointed 300-320 left and 320-340 right. You went left, searching the numbers until you saw 304. You looked around to make sure no one had noticed you definitely did not belong there, and when the coast was clear you opened the door slowly and snuck in the room.

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

Fuck, you were caught. You were running multiple scenarios of lies in your head as you turned around, but to your relief it was the nurse who had given you the sticker.

“Ah, I see it worked,” she gestured to the sticker on your uniform.

“It did, thank you so much,” You thanked her softly, your eyes moving towards Rafael’s still unconscious body. You immediately grabbed a chair and pulled it up next to him, stroking his hair.

“Hey...baby I’m here,” You whispered, wondering whether he could hear you or not.

“It says here he coded three times in surgery, but he came back,” The nurse read his chart off her tablet.

“Why….why would I want to know that?” you asked almost angrily.

“...Patients have a lot to do with their own response and recovery,” she replied. “I was just implying he was fighting like hell for something,” she smiled, making you smile for the first time since Rafael had left you at your apartment. God, that moment had been so perfect; how did you get here from there?

“I’ll put a DO NOT DISTURB” sign on the door, no one will bother you,” The nurse put a hand on your shoulder as she started to walk out. “I think he’s going to be okay sweetie, I really do,”

“Thanks,” You gave her a small nod, and she was gone. Leaving just you and Rafael, alone.

“So...I’ve never seen a guy work so hard to get me alone,” You chuckled, calling back to the first conversation you had at Forlini's. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

“Hey so, they caught Arianna and those guys,” you kept talking, praying he was listening. “I think they’re gonna go to jail for a LONG time,” you stroked his hair.

“So, y’know obviously that means I’m out a roommate. Probably an apartment too, I don’t really know what Arianna did about that. Surely she didn’t just get out of a six month lease in the middle of the night, she must have just thought they could abandon the apartment.

“So, if you know of any fancy mahogany couches that are open, let me know,” You tried joking again with a fake laugh, but it just turned into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Rafael,” you whispered. “I never intended for any of this to happen. I should have never even talked to you, I should have just admired you from afar and sniffed your scotch glasses in private like a fucking creep,” you laughed for real between your tears.

“I just--” you started to talk again, but you felt Rafael’s hand squeeze yours.

“....R-Rafa?”

Suddenly, Rafael started to thrash and choke, his breathing tube was still breathing for him.

“NURSE!!! NURSE!!” You jumped up and screamed down the hall; your lucky nurse came rushing in. She quickly pulled the tube out and after a few gasping breaths, Rafael finally calmed down. He was conscious, but his eyes were barely open.

“Welcome back, Mr. Barba,” The nurse smiled. “I think you gave this one quite the scare,” She nodded to you, to which Barba gave the weakest smile.

He tried to speak, but just scratchy gibberish came from his mouth. But his beautiful green eyes were more open and had their sparkle back.

“Your throat will be sore for a while,” The nurse informed him. “....But everything else seems to be doing good!” She checked all of Rafael’s stats on his machines, and the different tubes coming out of his body.

“I’ll be back later-- let you two, catch up,” She gave you both a knowing smile, then walked out the door.

“I...told...you,” he hoarsely croaked.

“What? You told me what?!” You asked him frantically, as if this was some kind of ominous threat.

“I’d….,” He cleared his throat as you grabbed a water bottle off a nearby table.

“I told you, I’d fight for you,” He said almost completely normally after taking a swig of the water.

“...Yeah, well-- I think that was a bit much, don’t you, counselor?” You raised an eyebrow, implying taking a bullet for someone after the first date is a bit melodramatic.

“I mean, here,” he pointed to the bed.

“W-What?” you blinked in confusion.

“I fought to come back,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “For you,”

“Why?” you blinked again, still in awe.

“Because you asked me to,” He smiled, taking his free hand and stroking your hair back as you had been doing while he was out.

“Y-You heard all of that?!” you gasped.

“Well, I thought I had hallucinated it until you just confirmed it for me,” He gave you a mischievous smile.

“Oh my god,” You blushed and hit him softly, forgetting about his tubes and shoulders. He winced in pain, and you immediately started to comfort him again.

“Oh my GOD, what is wrong with me?! Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, carino. And I’m not done yet either,” his words made you stop fiddling with the wires and look him straight in the eyes.

“....Done what?”

“Done loving you, dummy,” he shook his head as if to say “DUH.”

“Oh my god you DID hear all of it!” You put your hands over your face, your face turning red. Then you realized what he had actually said.

“WAIT...did you just say…?” your eyes bugged out of your head.

“I love you, Y/N.” he smiled sweetly, squeezing your hand.

“Really? Are you sure? Because we can just--” He shut you up by leaning over and kissing you.

“Since I saw you sniff my scotch glass,” He cut you off. “I thought ‘I’m gonna marry that weird girl one day’,”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there mister,” You put your hands up. “I mean, you can almost die for me, but marriage? That seems a bit much,” You gave him a tongue-in-cheek smile.

“We’ll negotiate,” He smirked. “In the meantime…” He moved himself away on his bed, adjusting the wires to make a space. He patted it for you to get in.

“I...I don’t think these are made for two people, what if I break it?” You eyed the bed, trying to calculate the weight max.

“I’ll buy them another one,” he chuckled.

“Oh right, with your copious amounts of money,” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, better spending it on that then more ties,” he smirked.

“NO. Never stop buying ties!” You giggled, climbing into the bed with him. He adjusted the arm that wasn’t in a sling around you. You snuggled into him, and he placed a kiss on your forehead. The feeling was back; the safe and warm feeling

And you knew in your heart, you’d never feel helpless again.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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eveenstar · 3 years

Text

ᴄᴏʟᴅ sᴛᴀʀs (ᴍᴀʀᴋᴜs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Summary: You’ve been a gifted child since you could remember, and even though most say it’s a good gift, you feel like this is more of a curse. A death curse.

Tags/Warnings: Attempted suicide, overall angsty and sad.

Note: This is probably the most heavy one-shot I’ve written so far. Also, this is my first time writing for Detroit: Become Human so hello people and let’s pray Tumblr doesn’t mess up my tags again :D I wrote this with Markus bc he’s my favourite and one of my comfort characters. The idea came up with this vid youtube and bc this day has been rather dull for me. Please, anyone who struggles with depression (or any other) and has suicidal thoughts, you are not alone and I’m here if you want a listening ear.

You glanced over to the glowing street lights. The diverse cars going left, right or straight ahead to their future. You wish you could have that future, but you couldn't. At least, you felt like you couldn't. Focusing enough, you'd hear the sirens, the phones ringing and the chatting of the people above you. This building was tall enough to almost touch the sky, but that was your imagination; it only took you 10 minutes to climb up the stairs and get to the rooftop. Was this really the ending for you?

You let out a nervous breath, your mind floating into old memories. You were a gifted child since you could remember, but everyone around you overlooked that. You knew you were special, you knew you were different from the others. However, it didn't matter anymore. Your life was ruined because people were careless. Why have a child if you don't plan on loving them? You were left with your own conclusions to why you were different, so you distorted it and later, you felt guilty for being different.

The cold wind kissed your cheeks as you stared at the pale moon, which seemed to be gloomily staring back at you. All those stars out there, hanging on the dark sky, remind you of yourself. They all seem so alive, yet if you look close enough, they're dead. Just like you. You stared at the even vaster buildings in front of you, then back down at the busy streets. Your heart jumped at the thought of falling. Would it hurt much? Or maybe you weren't going to feel a thing.

Markus.

How would Markus react to your death? He probably hasn't noticed you've been gone for long, but he most definitely did. He's not a human, he's much more intelligent than one. Is he looking for you right now? You wished, you deeply wished you wouldn't hurt him but you can't take the pain anymore. Not just any pain, it's the hollowness inside. You laugh, you smile, you have your happy moments but the emptiness is still there. Eating you alive, destroying and burning you from the inside out. Maybe in an alternate reality, you're happy. Not this one thought, this one has been a bumpy road of life.

Cold tears fell from your eyes, they were as cold as your hands. You tried warming them, but you weren't wearing any good winter clothing for that, and now they're red. Probably not a good sign. The snow reminded you of christmas, and in fact, it would be in two weeks. You told Markus you wanted to decorate the tree this weekend, and now he'll have to do it alone. A quiet sob escaped your lips; how much you missed to do that every single christmas, for some reason you found it peaceful. Not that christmas is a huge thing for you, because it isn't, it stopped being important after childhood. After you realized how much in your life is wrong. After that hollow hole in your chest grew. You can't remember how it was to live without any trauma or mental issue. You could use a hug now.

"(Y/N)?"

You gasped and quickly turned around, just to meet Markus, your boyfriend.

"Markus?"

There was a silence, an extreme silence. You didn't know what to say, but you also didn't need to. He already knew what you were planning to do, and if he arrived just a couple of minutes later, you'd be gone in the blink of an eye. But for now, you were here. Markus tried analyzing your expression; Despair, fear, sadness.

He stretched his hand to you, silently begging you to take it and leave the edge of the roof.

"Please," Markus said, "Come to me, sweetheart."

As if time had stopped itself, you stared at the android. A part of you wanted to accept it, and the other didn't.

You don't know what happened, but your feet moved towards him and you rushed onto his arms. Letting out uncontrollable sobs and apologizes, you hid your face in his chest.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here now, " A harsh breath escaped past his lips, "I love you so much, I'm here for you. We'll get through this together."

He almost lost you, the love of his life. He'll make sure you get all the help you need, and Markus will make sure you know you aren't alone in this journey.

#detroit become human #detroit become human fanfic #markus x reader #detroit become human markus #detroit become human one shot #dbh one shot #dbh fanfic #dbh fandom #dbh markus #dbh markus x reader

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hoekageyama · 4 years

Text

cmfrt

yaku morisuke x reader

warnings: nsfw, smut, uhhhh grey sweatpants (ik im sorry ew)

wc: ~3k

a/n: hi hi! this is my first piece, so pls go easy on me ._. this started off as something fluffy bc my desire for yaku content is thru the roof (as it should be), but ofc i got off the rails and went the soft smut route lmao oops. anyway, i hope u enjoy!

~ also! please don’t consume this content if you are not of age, thnx <3 ~

You and Yaku had been best friends for years. Having gone to the same middle school and practically being next door neighbors. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time together; you two were pretty much attached at the hip. So when Yaku told you that he’d also be going to Nekoma for high school, you were pretty excited but not really surprised.

Throughout high school, the two of you spent as much time together as possible, proving to be difficult at times with every ounce of Yaku’s free time being devoured by volleyball and the endless amounts of studying that was required for prepping for uni. All that aside, the two of you always found time for each other. Whether it be little lunch dates on the weekends, small study sessions in the library, or even facetime hangouts when you were both exhausted and too lazy to actually meet up face to face.

It felt like any other Friday when you and Yaku met up in the early morning to walk to school together. “Y/n, did you finish that history report yet? I’m almost done, but I need someone to review it so I don’t look like an idiot when I present on it.” Yaku ran a hand through his light brown hair and looked over to your slightly shorter form.

You turn to Yaku, noticing how his cheeks were slightly flushed due to the cold wind blowing directly in your faces. “Just about. I just need to finish my conclusion, but it shouldn’t take me too long to power through it. Also, yeah, I can take a look at it. No worries.” You turn away after answering the boy, and continue on your walk, thinking that was the end of that conversation. You can feel his gaze on you suddenly, leaving your cheeks to tint to that familiar shade of red. “Thanks. Also… are you free tonight?” he asks with slight notes of hesitation in his voice. You glance at him through the side of your eye noticing his fidgeting hands. “Yea, I’m free. What’s up?”

Without looking at you or answering, he slows his pace until he’s stopped. Standing and gazing out at the trees that lined the roads, watching as the Maple leaves are shed from their branches, showing the first true signs of winter. You stop alongside him and nudge him slightly with your elbow, “Why’d you ask so suddenly, Mori? Something up?”

He jumps slightly being pulled from his thoughts. He glances over at you, “Oh, uh, no reason really. I was just wondering if you’d wanna come over tonight to study and hangout. We can chill and watch movies like the old times. I have the house to myself and all so…” When you see his raised eyebrow and sly smirk grace his features, you feel your face heat up slightly.

You turn to him giggling, “Oooooh, Mori! I didn’t know you could be such a flirt!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and forces you to start walking again. “If that’s what you call flirting, then the guys you talk to must be braindead.” He pulls you a little closer into his chest, laughing along with you now. You nuzzle your head into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, “Of course I’ll come. As long as you treat me to some takeout tonight.” He nods and smiles, looking at your slightly smaller form clinging to his for warmth. “Deal. We can stop by the store on our walk home, and I’ll get you whatever ya want.” You only nod in agreement, leaving the two of you to walk the rest of the way in a comfortable silence.

As the day moved on, you found yourself getting a bit anxious for your hangout with your best friend. It’s not like you haven’t slept over at his house before. In fact, you and Yaku practically slept at each other’s houses every weekend for as long as you can remember. But what was so different now? Oh yeah, that’s right. It’s because now you were painfully aware of your burning crush on the mighty libero.

The final bell signaling the day’s end rings as you make your way through the double doors of Nekoma. Making your way towards the gym, you see Kuroo and Kai standing by the entrance chatting. “Yo Tets! Kai! You guys seen Mori anywhere?” The two both wave in greeting as you move closer to the duo. “Yea, I think he’s getting changed right now. Should be out in a bit.” Kai states. “You two still aren’t dating yet? You guys act like you're married already.” says Kuroo, rustling your hair. “Oh shut uuuuup already.” you hear Yaku groan from inside the gym. “You’re so worried about our relationship when you can barely hold a conversation with a girl without looking like a nerd.” Yaku scoffs, punching Kuroo’s arm.

The four of you eventually split off into your own groups, making your way home for the weekend. The walk home doesn’t take very long. It’s filled with Yaku telling you about Kuroo’s horrible chemistry pickup lines and complaining about the test you both had coming up. Midway through, you both stopped at the store, picking out ample snacks for your movie night and some dinner for later.

Upon finally trudging through the icy winds, you arrive at Yaku’s house. He unlocks the door, but steps aside to let you in first. “What a gentleman!” you say jokingly as he laughs from your reaction. You slide your shoes off at the door and make a beeline straight for Yaku’s bedroom, plastic bag filled with goodies in hand. Yaku lets out a happy sigh and soon follows suit.

Once in Yaku’s room, you lie face down on his bed groaning. “What’s wrong now, princess?” he asks as he closes the door. Plopping down on the bed next to you with two juice pouches already in hand he nudges you gently to sit up. “I completely forgot to stop by my house to pick up clothes for tonight. All I have in my bag are gym clothes.” you sigh in exasperation as you take the pouch from his cold hands.

“Oh stop. You know you can always just use some of my clothes.” he shrugs while taking a sip of his juice. “I mean.. You’ve done it before. It’s not that big of a deal. I- if you’re ok with it, that is.” he says looking over to you, waiting for your response. You nod in response moving to lie in his lap.

If you didn’t know Yaku well enough, you wouldn’t have noticed the way he tenses slightly, ears the tiniest bit redder than they were moments ago braving the cold of the outside world. “Well then, get me something comfy because I need to get out of this skirt asap!” you say brushing down the edges of your skirt, putting them into place. “I’ll say..” he mumbles. You barely heard it, but it makes your cheeks grow a little red.

After you both finish your drink, you see him disappear into his closet only to emerge moments later with two sets of clothes in hand. He tosses a black t-shirt and a pair of red shorts to you on the bed. Both of which, landing right on top of your face. “I’ll go shower up first since I don’t take ages like some people.” he says with a smirk as he reaches the door.

You giggle hearing his mocking tone “Ok that was one time! And to be fair, it was all your fault. My hair smelled like Yakuult for days after!” He blushes slightly remembering the incident, but chooses to only shake his head laughing to himself as he continues his pursuit for the bathroom.

You lie in his bed scrolling through some app on your phone when you hear the door open. Yaku returns, toweling off his lightly dampened hair, clad in just a pair of grey sweatpants that seem to barely hand onto his waist. You feel your thighs press together tightly as he throws a hoodie on, turning to see your flustered state. “What? Am I too hot for ya?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh shut up!” you groan, rushing passed him and right out the door. You quickly hop into the shower once in the bathroom to cool off your burning cheeks, praying that you can keep it together for the rest of the night.

Soon enough, you’re all dry, dressed, and heading for Yaku’s room. As you close the door, you see Yaku sitting at his desk running his fingers through his hair. Yaku had been working on his history paper while you were in the shower, and it seems he isn’t making much progress. You grab your back and move to sit by him, brushing against his leg with your own on the way down. He feels a shiver rush down his spine at the sudden delicate touch. “You ok, Mor?” you ask when you see him nodding profusely in response. “Yeah just can’t get this paper done. It’s like my mind is racing, but I can’t focus.” You rub his back and lean over to view his paper in front of him. The way you’re positioned isn’t helping Yaku’s brain one bit.

Yaku places a hand on your lower back, ogling at the way your back arches naturally reacting to his touch. He smooths out the back of your shirt, admiring the swell of your ass. He flushes a bit, feeling a dull throb and a tightness beginning to form in his sweatpants, when he notices how short you made the shorts after rolling the waistband up a few times to ensure they’d fit.

You subconsciously rub your thighs together a little while reading through his history report. You hoped that Yaku wouldn’t notice, but unlucky for you he did. He continued rubbing your back, slightly lowering his hand little by little until you felt his rough hand caress your ass. You turned around to look at him, but were met with eyes glazed over in lust. “Hey Mor, you ok?” you ask confused. “I’m fine, baby. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” he says as he drops his hand into his lap in an attempt to conceal the bulge that began growing in his sweats. You shake your head giggling, moving back to your original position next to him. “Nah it’s all good, babe. Just…” you lose all train of thought you possibly had when you glance down and notice the outline of something in his sweatpants. “Hey, y/n, listen. I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen, I promise. I- I just think you look really good in my clothes…. Sorry.” he quickly spits out.

He began shuffling to get up from you when you reach out and clamp a hand around his wrist. “Why are you apologizing, babe? I should probably be the one apologizing. Especially when you’ve made me like this.” you say bashfully, leading his hand to the wet spot that was now visible in the red shorts you wore. He groaned upon feeling the dampness. “What’s all this, princess? Why so wet already?” he coos into your ear, continuing to rub his rough hands against your clothed core.

After building up the courage to get this far, you threw all caution to the wind. “You, Mori. Fuck! I want you to touch me, please.” you let out a little moan as you palmed him through his sweats. You could tell just how hard he was through his pants. “Fuck, baby, I’ll do whatever you want. Just please let me fuck you.” he groans when you press a little harder onto his hardened cock.

Everything that happened next was a blur. Lips smashed together, tongues dancing, teeth clashing every now and then. You finally part lips, gasping for air as he tugs his hoodie off over his head. You follow suit, removing your shirt and shorts, leaving you standing nearly bare in between his legs as he lounged in his desk chair.

His eyes never leave yours as he unhooks your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor with a thud. His hands smooth over your breasts, rolling and pinching a nipple in between the rough pads of his fingers. He places open mouthed kisses from your jawline down to the swell of your breasts. Leaning back to take in the view once more he groans, saying, “You’re so beautiful, baby. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these from me all this time.” you only moan as he moves in to nip at one of your pert nipples. Your hands immediately reach for his light brown locks and begin to tug in response to the stimulation.

His hands move to your lower body pulling off your lace underwear until they drop to the floor. You kick them aside before he grips your hips tightly. “Mo- Mori please, let me ride your cock.” you say through moans as he lightly trails a finger through your soaked folds. He removes his mouth from your chest with a lewd popping sound. He stands up to pull his sweats lower and sits back down in his seat. You take a moment to ogle at the sight before you. His cock, painfully hard, dripping precum from the swollen head. You grab his shoulders and move in to kiss him as his grip returns to your hips.

He hoists you up onto his lap, making you straddle the length in his lap. When your wet core makes contact with the length below you, you let out a lewd moan and grind in his lap. He hisses at the contact and tightens his grip on you to stop you from moving. “Patience, princess.” he groans out as you finally stop your ministrations. He lifts you slightly, aligning himself with your hole before looking up to you for approval. You simply nod your head and lower yourself onto his cock little by little. It isn’t too above average in length, but damn did he make up for it in girth.

You both hiss at the feeling of him being sheathed completely inside your tight cunt, neither of you moving to allow for you both to regain some composure. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight!” he groans, “Just let me know when you want to start moving.” You only nod your head, savoring the delicious stretch in your core.

As soon as you regain your bearings, you look up to him with glazed eyes, “Mori, mo- move please.” He attaches your mouth to his and gently lifts you, gripping your ass tightly. Before long, he let you take control. The pace you set is slow at first while you kiss him tenderly, running a hand through his hair, tugging gently every so often. His cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you, causing you to erupt in another lewd moan of his name. You feel him twitch inside you, he speeds up the pace a bit bringing your ass down harder each time he lifts you.

Before long you feel that familiar heat in your core building inside you. “Ah fuck, I’m c- close” you moan out as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. The sound of his balls slapping your ass is nearly enough to set you off, but when he reaches a hand down to place sloppy circles around your clit. The coil of heat building up finally snaps, and you’re thrown head first into the bliss of ecstasy.

Yaku groans feeling you tighten around his length. He continues fucking you through your high, and his pace begins to get sloppy before he pulls out frantically. Before he can ask you, you get on your knees in front of him and take him into your mouth. He hisses at the feeling of your tongue gliding over his swollen head and throws his head back in pleasure. With one hand in your hair, he pulls you lower onto his cock as he bursts ribbons of heat down the back of your throat.

After removing himself from your mouth and tucking himself back into his sweats, he pulls you back into his lap. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, holding you tightly in his arms. “Mori, I’m cooooooold.” you whine into his shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, huh?”

He moves you onto his bed and quickly disappears to the bathroom. You see him return with a damp washcloth and a cup of water in hand. You let him clean you off as you look around the room for your clothes. “I’ll get you some new clothes ok? Just relax and drink your water while I put these washing.” he says, motioning to the pile of clothes on the floor. He hands you some garments and you quickly get dressed as he moves about the house.

He later returns, only to see you waiting for him with the takeout you had gotten earlier. He plops down beside on the bed for the second time tonight and pulls you into a hasty kiss. “You’re mine, right? I love you so much. I’ve dreamt of this for years. Please stay with me.” he says as he looks deep into your e/c eyes, while cupping your cheeks with his hands. “How can I say no?” you giggle, smashing your lips into his once more before chowing down on your takeout meals. The rest of the night is spent with the two of you cuddled up watching terrible rom-coms. The history report, long forgotten. That can wait for tomorrow.

- again, i’m so sorry at how trashy this is written lmaodfadfj

- if u did read it tho, tysm! ily & maybe send me some suggestions on what to write next. i’m down for whatever rlly. i’m trying to write more often so this is kinda just a warm up for now.

#yaku #yaku morisuke #yaku x yn #yaku x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #yaku morisuke x yn #yaku smut #yaku morisuke smut #all these tags make my head hurt #hoekageyama #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x yn #yaku.txt #hq.txt #hq_xx.txt #maddlibs

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fanfic-collection · 3 years

Text

Loki x Reader: Apocalypse ch 3

As promised, please comment/like/reblog, anything

rebel4fandom

You begrudgingly left the warmth of your apartment. Thinking of Tony, and his friends that you had known, you knew you were able to do more than just huddle in the warmth of your living space.

The next several hours passed with you stomping through the halls, pounding on doors and seeing if anyone was still inside your building. To your relief, it was empty.

So, bracing against the bitter winds, you stepped outside and into the street, making your way to the next building over. Thus, you continued the process. Eventually, you found a small family, hunkered down in their family room. You pleaded for them to go to one of the shelters and with much persuasion and assurance that Tony Stark thought it was the right thing to do. The Avengers all supported it, after all, you convinced them to bundle up and follow you to brace the cold.

The trek to the shelter was long and arduous. You helped keep the weaker members of the family upright, blocking them from the buffeting wind that whipped through the city streets among the skyscrapers. Abandoned cars lined the streets, some with doors left open and snow piling up inside.

It seemed the snow had stopped today, but the wind still whipped up the snow into flurries, creating near white out conditions. You had your face bundled and had managed to scavenge ski goggles but the people you led were not nearly as lucky, you knew some of them were following you blindly. Some of them were stumbling over garbage, fire hydrants, city decorations, and objects you prayed were not dead bodies.

When at last you finally reached the shelter, the people running the shelter thanked you with a warm drink. They were grateful for more living people, but you knew it was filled to capacity and more mouths to feed meant less supplies for everyone else.

The number of living residents you found each day was quickly dwindling, it was only a week in.

Today as you sat inside the shelter, warming up from your trek, you saw another rescuer leading victims in. The Black Widow herself.

“I’m used to Russian winters but damn.” She said stamping her feet in the entrance to the area, her teeth rattling. “Alright it’s been years, but still.” She was shouting over the howl of the wind.

They ushered her inside, closer to where you were sitting with your mug of hot water.

“Hey, aren’t you Stark’s, uh?”

“Cousin or something, yea.” You nodded, telling her your name and holding your hand out to introduce yourself.

“I remember seeing you around the tower and the compound occasionally.” Natasha nodded, “Nice to see a familiar face.” She smiled at you, lowering her scarf and raising her goggles. “Feel like I’m going to have to crawl into a dead tauntaun out there or something.”

“Star Wars?” You laughed.

She shrugged with a grin. “Hey, anything to stay warm. I don’t really see much of anyone these days, we’re spread out so much trying to see how many people we can save around the world while we have the big guns figuring out what’s causing this.”

“Dr. Strange?”

“Yea, without his infinity stone, he’s a lot weaker.”

You nodded, “Shame about that.”

“I’m not complaining too much.” Nat chuckled weakly.

“Fair point.”

Natasha stretched her arms, “Even this bitter cold reminds me I’m alive.”

“We’re all glad you are.”

“There’s quite a few people that are alive again after that blip that we thought would stay dead.” Natasha said thoughtfully.

You nodded, “Yea, it’s weird how some of our biggest enemies became our friends too. Like what’s his name, Peter Quill? He was enemies with that Nebula girl, and then she became their closest ally, and Gamora vanished but, actually I’m not sure how that worked.”

Natasha shook her head, “Yea, you’d have to ask them.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Although, when Thor said his brother sacrificed himself to stop the initial invasion of Thanos?”

You smiled, “I remember him being here for a bit, right?”

Natasha paused then slowly drew out the word, “Yes… He was, wasn’t he?”

“He came here to recover, Asgard didn’t want him, but they gave the Avengers the means to heal him.”

“Just the initial healing, once he could stand, he went back to Asgard. Right?”

“Yea, I talked with him a bit. He really wasn’t what people made him out to be.”

Natasha raised her eyebrow. “Tell that to Clint.”

“I’m not saying Clint shouldn’t hate him, I’m just saying, Loki well, he doesn’t have a silver spoon up his ass like I thought he did.”

Nat quirked her head.

“Some master spy, you think you’d interrogate him and get more out of him. Honestly you seemed to only get what you wanted out of him when you interrogated him.”

“Oh he definitely got in your head, what did he do to you?”

“Nothing!” You held up your hands, “I’m all me. I just, it seems kinda convenient that he talked only about the Hulk and the one thing he gets you to think about is the Hulk. Hardly seems like a stretch that you would draw a conclusion that his plan was about the Hulk.”

Natasha frowned and furrowed her brow, “Are you saying we shouldn’t have trusted Loki and not let them take him back to Asgard and should have kept him weak and in chains?”

You scrambled upright from your relaxed position. “No, no, no! I just, I kept thinking about the interrogation tapes and it seemed really bad spy work.”

Natasha huffed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“I’m going to go look for others, maybe my shoddy work will help elsewhere.” Natasha set down her warm drink and she stalked off.

One of the nearby workers looked at you and shook their head. “Smooth.”

You scowled at them. Downing the last of your drink that it almost scalded your throat, you slammed it on the table and walked out after Natasha, sure to walk in another direction.

When the sun started to get lower in the sky, you hurried back to your apartment. There was no chance of risking being out at night. Any exposure in the dark would be instant hypothermia. Being alone at night was instant death. Thankfully it was still July so the days were longer, and you had more time to get back to your home, but you did not risk any amount of time in the dark.

Getting back to your home you settled back into bed, trying to thaw out and shiver yourself back to life. The heat croaked to life and you looked at the supplies you had collected to sustain yourself. It wasn’t much, but it would keep you going.

Swallowing hard, you turned on the TV and waited to see what news might bring.

A man was being interviewed, some sort of wild animal attack. No. Something else. You recognized Falcon on TV, the new Captain America. He was trying to talk to a survivor in a med unit. The survivor was near catatonic, covered in frost bite and mumbling in horror.

“Get the camera away from him, he’s not gonna talk if you keep shoving that thing in his face.” Sam grumbled.

The camera pulled away but the mic stayed close to Sam.

“Listen, just tell me what happened. Please, this isn’t the first attack, but you’re our first survivor. We need to know what’s happening. You’re ok, I’m Captain America, Falcon, call me Sam, whatever you want, I’m here and I’ll protect you.” Sam bent down and took their bandaged hand in his.

The man stared at Sam blankly, eyes staring into the distance, “They-they,” He stammered, “it… them… those things… they killed my whole family.”

Sam nodded, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Please, anything you remember, what they look like, sound like, anything.”

The man whispered, “Monsters.”

A roar of protests exploded as the press filling the room rushed forward trying to press microphones at Sam and the victim.

You could see the look of exasperation in Sam’s eyes at the press as the victim succumbed to exhaustion, or pain, though you were thankful the heart monitor showed him alive.

Abruptly a gold sparkling circle appeared in the room and the media jumped back in fright. A man you recognized as Dr. Strange stepped out.

“I’m a doctor.” Strange announced. “I’ll be taking over this case.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Everyone out.” Strange dragged out the ‘e’ in everyone.

And then the camera was in a hospital lobby. And you realized you were on your knees in bed, leaning towards the TV trying to know what had just happened, completely bewildered and about a hundred times more frightened.

More than just the cold was killing people?

#Loki x reader #ficbit #reader insert #2nd person pov #fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #Loki #Loki laufeyson #Loki fanfiction #Loki fanfic #Loki x you #no y/n #avengers x reader #multi chapter

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courtlyharlequin · 4 years

Text

Amaranthine

Warning(s): female reader, mentions of anxiety, slow burn (I think), 17K word count, self-indulgence, Vivi’s Vil brain rot with no plot, not proofread

Summary: There was this monster inside your head. It went by the name of Anxiety. To you, it was, and always be, more so of a parasite you couldn’t live with, but you also couldn’t live without. It looked after you in the strangest of times. For the most part, it was a hindrance, cluttering your mind with dark and bitter thoughts, assuming the worst in people you’ve never met before, jumping to conclusions, and crying over the smallest things. It made you extremely aware of yourself and others, for better or for worse. That was Anxiety, the monster in your head. The exact moment in time when it nestled instead into your mind is unknown to this day, festering in the back of your mind. Then there was Vil Schoenheit, your lover, your soulmate, and most importantly, your pillar of support who cheered you on in his own way. He taught you how to tame Anxiety. But alas, a monster will always be a monster.

A/N: It’s my birthdayyyyyy~ so I made a very, very, very self-indulgent fic for myself. While I did write it as a reader insert, it pertains to my mental health, particularly my anxiety, and there may be aspects of it that you may not understand. That is okay. I wanted some feels with Vil on my birthday because I have a case of Malleus syndrome;;;

A/N²: To clear things up, the reader in this fic is female. She is not Yuu (I usually write the reader as Yuu and yes, I’m aware they can be two separate entities). She likes to scrapbook, bake, and wear lolita clothing. She also attends NRC though her dorm is left pretty open-ended. However, it might not make sense if you’re in Pomefiore. This might not work if your birthday is in March either. I’m sorry asdfghjkl;

Disclaimer: Please note that this is not a fanfic that romanticizes mental illnesses. A significant other cannot solve everything. They shouldn’t solve everything. They aren’t meant to fix you; they’re there to bring out the best in you and be by your side when you need them to be. By no means, is it their job to help your completely overcome your mental illnesses. It’s a common trope in fanfiction and gives off mixed signals to me. This self-indulgent fanfic of mine is not meant to give anyone false hope. It is simply a love story that I always wanted to experience. Think of it as my own anxiety story. The only thing real about this is some events like the presentation meltdown though my partner eventually turned into my middle school bully so I just replaced him with Vil because Vil>>>>>>

[ Present Day, Vil’s Bedroom ]

Fwip!

You flinched. You looked up. Vil had flicked your forehead. His eyes were filled with worry, brows creased and his lips strung in a frown.

“Fairest, is something on your mind?” he asked.

“No. Not at all.”

“Hold still for a minute. This lip tint is watery,” he said in a stern tone, tilting your chin upwards

He lined your lips in red and handed you a small mirror.

“Beautiful, my love.”

You stared at your expression. Vil was right. You were beautiful, all dolled up in this getup. You were prettier than usual, that’s for sure. However, the look isn’t for you or your hollow eyes. He snapped his fingers.

“Fairest,” he paused, sitting down on his bed, patting the space next to him, “Come here.”

You obliged.

“Now, talk to me. Don’t deny it. Something is on your mind. You’ve been zoning out all day. If you need a break just say so.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I was just thinking…”

“Thinking?”

“Yes. About the past and whatnot. Trivial things! No matter,” you dismissed, leaning onto his shoulder.

Vil crossed his legs, “How could I help you if you give me such a vague answer?”

Had he truly forgotten your special day, the only day you were willing to break out of your shell and be showered in compliments and praise without feeling like an alien? While you didn’t have a cake to share and you were certain that he wouldn’t want to eat it either, you expected he would remember the date as your lover of seven months now. So far, he only asked you to drop by his room for makeup practice as he just landed a part-time job as a makeup artist. Not that you minded of course. He made you feel beautiful, one of the many reasons you loved him.

“I don’t think it’s something you can help me with. I was thinking about middle school and—”

“Don’t waste your time with those fools.”

“I told you it was trivial.”

You nuzzled against his shoulders.

“It’s been hard lately, you know? I’ve been overthinking again. About silly things. Group projects, you know? Presentations too. Ah, there was this one person who told me to shut up because of a misunderstanding and everyone laughed and I felt— But you mustn’t hurt them!”

You clutched his arm. His posture had stiffened. He gave you a blank expression though his eyes told the whole story.

“I felt a little out of place. Things were going fine until they showed up. It’s not their fault, don’t worry. I was excited to talk to them, but it ended up going downhill. I felt like I was overstepping my boundaries. It was embarrassing,” you continued.

“I know you don’t like it when I say this but it’s not as bad as you think it is. Know that you made progress compared to your pot– first year self,” Vil said, squeeze your hand, “If you want help with your presentations, then I’m here for you— as always.”

Straightforward as always. He never tolerated things he deems piffling, but you were glad he didn’t pity you, not one bit.

“I’m sorry for bothering—”

He placed the tip of his index finger on your nose.

“What do we say instead of apologizing for something we cannot control?”

“T-Thank you.”

“Go on now.”

“...for listening to me.”

“My pleasure, Fairest.”

His finger shifted as he cupped your cheek with one hand, leaning in to kiss your forehead. He must’ve forgotten your birthday, but you mustn’t going to ruin the mood. You watched his back as he gathered his makeup brushes. Vil was a busy man though that was something you were used to as his lover.

[ Two Years Prior, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Are you just going to sit there while everyone picks their partners, little potato?”

You flinched at the sudden comment. Potato? You had a name. Did you do something to be labeled in such a way? Moreover, what was the Vil Schoenheit doing standing in front of your desk? You prayed for the conversation to be brief. Part of you also prayed for him to ask to be partners.

“What are you staring at? Answer.”

You shook your head. This was bad. You were staring at him for too long. While you were dying from embarrassment, you let your gaze linger for a little longer. He was gorgeous. You loved how his blonde hair transitioned into a pale lavender, complimenting his violet eyes, eye makeup, and fair complexion.

Vil snapped his fingers before your field of vision.

“I know you aren’t mute. Answer.”

“Probably…” you said.

“Hah? That won’t do, potato. I’ll be your partner then.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, ‘I’ll be your partner’. Now, move over. We’re in direct sunlight here and it won’t do any good for our skin if we sit there everyday for so long even if we are indoors.”

You nodded, sliding one seat over. He sat down next to you, arms and legs crossed. He seems mad, concerned with something, something else. His body language didn't match his facial expressions though he wasn’t hard to read.

“Why me?”

You bit your lip, cringing at your own inquiry.

“You seem responsible enough to be my partner for this project,” he said, propping his head on his elbow, turning to face the blackboard.

What did he mean by that? Sure, you were responsible, but were you worth noting of? You were decent, not the best but not the worse either. Failing a class meant coming the topic of conversation when a teacher asks you to stay after class for a brief checkup or tutoring sessions. Excelling in a class meant being called out on your exemplary work by teachers. Anxiety was not equipped for either circumstances therefore it tried to help you maintain your grades discreetly. But Vil noticed, indicating that you were overachieving. Perhaps you should purposefully miss a few questions on the next quiz. You got a perfect score last time. It wouldn’t hurt. However, you were partnered with Vil, someone who strived for perfection, someone who stood out against a crowd. The phrase goes “...like a sore thumb”, but Vil stood out like a well polished and manicured appendage. He was beautiful, so beautiful that one had to stop for a moment to admire his beauty.

That was Vil, your partner. You could feel heavy stares in your direction. They were directed at Vil, but you couldn’t help feeling nervous. You fiddled with the ends of your hair, fixating your eyes onto your textbook.

You flinched when Vil pushed your back lightly. You shot him a widened stare, opening your mouth to ask him why he touched you. He placed a finger on your lips.

“Bad posture isn’t good for you. Straighten up and pay attention.”

Heat rose to your face as you adjusted your posture.

[ Library ]

“Mind telling me what this is, potato?” Vil said, throwing a stack of papers onto the table.

Your shoulders tensed. You set your textbook down, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s our project.”

“No. It’s your project.”

“I wrote your name on it too so don’t worry about it. I don’t mind sharing the credit.”

“It’s not about the credit. It’s about the integrity. I dropped by Crewel’s office hours today with a question about this project and he told me that we had already turned it in. Fortunately for you, I’m good at improvising so we’re off the hook. I got our project back so we can work on it together. Scoot over so we can get started. I’m assuming you also did the slideshow, but I–”

As usual, you complied to his demands, allowing him to sit next to you. He was a bit too close for comfort. Your peers could manage with this proximity so you probably could too if you took deep breaths every now and then.

“We only have a day left, you know.”

“I know.”

“So why bother?”

Vil clicked his tongue, throwing his French braid over his shoulder as he slid the stool closer to the desk, “I bother because we’re a team.”

He paused, pondering, “I don’t like things being handed to me either.”

“That’s gold especially since this is coming from someone who’s always too busy to even reply to my texts,” you replied.

As soon as those words left your mouth, you bit your tongue. Was that too much? Should you have just listened to him? Kept quite? How will he react? Will he shame you on social media? Spread rumors? Tell Crewel?

“Listen here, potato. I work various part-time jobs and I run a club. I apologize for my poor time management, but I am here now. You, on the other hand, have only sent me one text pertaining to scheduling and this assignment during the three weeks we had to do it. We are both at fault, got that?”

“Yes,” you murmured, pulling out your laptop.

“Wonderful. You won’t have to rewrite everything. Just subtracting here and adding some words there for smoother transitions. It’ll sound better.”

You bit your lip. You were hoping that because you made the entire presentation, Vil would take up the speaking part out of guilt. Unfortunately for you, he was too self-righteous to give in. He can’t be persuaded either. His eyes were glued onto his own laptop, typing the evening away.

You’ll have to make due.

[ Presentation Day, Alchemy Classroom ]

From the brief time you’ve interacted with him, you knew that Vil was meant to be in the spotlight. He shined brightly, you could feel his charisma even from the back from the classroom. His performance was worthy of a standing ovation. You could never compete with him, let alone get through a single presentation. You had made it through all of your slides, but every time Vil spoke, you felt out of place. Your hands were shaking and you were on the brink of tears. Your peers must think you were incompetent. Their intense stares were unbearable. Did they pity you? Or Vil?

“It’s your turn,” Vil whispered.

You refused. His hand twitched as he grabbed your shoulders. This exchange was awkward enough yet your silent plea for help didn’t reach him.

“Go, potato.”

“No.”

He enunciated his words, “It’s. Your. Turn”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand,” you cried.

Vil’s expression softened. He reached for you and you braced yourself yet it never came. He huffed and proceeded with the rest of the slides.

Ah… crying in the first semester as a first year in high school? Because of a presentation overwhelming you? Wonderful. You’ll never be able to live that down. Should you transfer to RSA then? No, that won’t do. They had mandatory choir classes or so you heard. Maybe an ordinary high school from your hometown then? But what if the headmaster disapproved?

You meekly walked up to Crewel, “I’m going to the infirmary.”

Your instructor only nodded with reluctance. Dissatisfaction was written across his face, but turning down a frantic student in tears for an unknown reason would be frowned upon. You heard him mutter something about the puppies this year being too sheltered. You gave Vil a second glance before heading out. He brushed you off and continued with the deliverable.

You were hopeless.

[ Infirmary ]

You pulled the covers closer to your face, hiding behind your hair. He was there. Why?

“(y/n),” he said.

You inched away from him. He finally called you by your name. Not by “potato”. Why were you a potato in the first place? Was it because you were beneath dirt? Were you that ugly to be beneath him?

“Are you just going to stay here forever? Curfew is soon. You should hurry and get to the mirror chamber.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, potato.”

You were beneath him. The tears won’t stop falling. You were trembling.

“What did I do this time?” he sighed.

His voice was firm. He must’ve been irritated by today’s stunt.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just leave me alone... please.”

The blanket shrouded your eyes. How pathetic. How could you let him of all people see you in such a miserable state? You’ve only seen his social media profile once or twice. Was he the type to post and gossip about others?

The mattress sank as Vil sat down. You hugged your sides.

“Fine then. Be a stubborn potato.”

“... You honestly did nothing wrong. I’m the problem. I can’t function as a human being. I can’t talk to people. I can’t- Well, I can but it’s...”

“Difficult?”

“Yeah.”

“What is there to be scared of? Follow that trick where you pretend everyone is potato.”

Is that where the potato shtick came from? How reassuring. His tone was unchanging in pitch. Was he trying to comfort or criticize you?

“It's more complicated than just being shy. It’s tiring. I don’t have a clear mind. I worry too much. I spend my days in fear. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

Vil pulled the covers off your small figure. You turned to him in a haze.

“I believe the term is ‘anxiety’, potato,” he said.

“Y-Yeah. Was it obvious? It probably was. Pretty silly now that I think about it, but anyways curfew–”

“Did you think I was stuck in some era where I don’t even acknowledge mental health? And would look down on you because you have anxiety? Please. Give me more credit than that. I’m not close-minded. You’re still a person and you have feelings. So you have anxiety. What of it? Certainly no less of a person.”

Oh how your heart fluttered.

“Get up. You can stay at the Pomefiore dorms tonight. I should get you cleaned up. I can’t stand the sight of those red and puffy eyes…. Cheer up a bit, will you?”

He held out his hand. Was this his way of apologizing? It wasn’t his fault you crumbled in the first place so why? What did he want? Did he want to help you out to boost his reputation?

“Why are you helping me?”

“You clearly need help don’t you?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Yes or no, potato.”

“I can’t burden you more than I have,” you shook your head.

“I talked it over with Crewel. You’re fine.”

“I suppose I’m not excused either.”

You shrugged off the blankets and took Vil’s hand.

“No, you are. He seemed to be under the impression that you were actually ill,” he said, tapping his finger against his cheek.

“Then–”

“Leave it for now. We can discuss this over tea. After we clean you up though.”

“Do you pity me?”

What if you sounded desperate? What if you sounded needy? Was that needy? Would he change his mind?

You clamped a hand over your mouth. Vil squinted at you as if he was trying to inspect a stain on a fine textile. He proceeded to grab your cheeks, squeezing them. He exercised his authority.

“I. Do. Not. Remember that. I don’t stoop that low. Good grief.”

“Then... what’s the price?” you cried.

“Excuse me?”

“Your time is valuable, isn’t it? You’re clearly busy. Why are you wasting your precious time on me? Shouldn’t you be compensated for the time I’ve wasted?”

“Yes, my time is valuable, but we can talk about compensation another time.”

He let his hand go, leaving you to gasp in sheer terror. So forceful… he scared you. What did he want from you?

“You coming, (y/n)?”

“Yeah.”

[ Pomefiore Dormitory, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Hold still. After you cleanse your skin with this superfruit cleanser, you have to apply this fir extract to exfoliate. It’ll sting, and it’s even worse when you get it in your eye, so be careful. Try not to move too much, potato.”

Vil dabbed the cotton ball on your face meticulously. You felt like a celebrity with your own hair and makeup team.

“There. All done,” he beamed.

He spun the chair around so you faced the vanity mirror.

“Beautiful. One hundred points for you.”

You gripped the hem of his shirt. He shouldn’t say things like that and expect you not to combust. What’s more was that this attire was incredibly lewd. What if someone came in and got the wrong idea? What if they spread rumors? You were wearing nothing but his shirt after all. It was long enough to reach your knees, but it was his shirt regardless.

“What do you think, potato?”

“It’s nice, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s not for me?”

“Well, I think it does,” he said.

You patted your cheeks. Soft. Oh dear, you were soft.

“Ah, ah. Don’t touch,” he scolded, prying your hands away.

Goodness you were hopeless.

“Eh? Stop crying. No! Don’t rub your eyes either. Let me get you some tissues.”

Annoyance was etched into his speech, but his actions betrayed his words. He never left your side; he wiped your tears with his own thumbs. You held his wrists tenderly. His touch was like a thousand butterfly kisses.

“I’m sorry. I just… Annoying… Nobody… I’m not.. You…”

He sighed, “Don’t apologize for your feelings. You’re not that annoying as you think. Instead, why don’t you try saying thank you?”

“Thank you?”

“Yes, something like ‘thank you for listening to me’. That shouldn’t be hard for you now, is it?”

“Thank you… for not being annoyed with me.”

Vil palmed his face, “Not that bad. We’ll work on it. Twenty points for you.”

You sniffled and broke out into a small fit of laughter. He smiled too, standing up straight. He towered over you. He was a giant. You watched his back as he approached his bed, fluffing up the pillows. His heels clicked and clacked against the flooring. He was still in his school uniform. When was he going to sleep? Didn’t he say he wanted you to stay here? People would really get the wrong idea now. You tugged at his sleeves. Vil turned to you, waiting for you to speak.

“I’ll be going now.”

He grabbed your wrist, “Stay.”

You pulled away from him.

“No, not like that. I’m not going to do anything to you, potato. You really have to stop associating me with other potatoes. I meant stay for some tea. Of course, if you really feel uncomfortable then you’re free to go, but at least let me walk you back.”

“I’ll stay,” you said.

“Wonderful. Give me a moment to fix the bedding. The tea should be ready by then.”

When did he prepare the tea? When you were bathing? When you were changing into his pajamas?

“Vil, if I do stay the night, where will I be sleeping?“

“We have one spare room left over since one student never showed up to the ceremony so you can sleep there.”

You sighed, shoulders at ease.

“Did you honestly think I would let you sleep here? No, potato, I need my beauty rest.”

“No, not at all.”

“You are terrible at lying.”

“I’m not dirty minded I promise!”

“Did I say you were?” he smirked.

Vil had a frisky side to him… how unexpected. Nevertheless, you were relieved. You had insomnia already. If you had to sleep next to Vil… you would never see the dawn again.

“Potato, your tea.”

You jumped.

“Careful! It’s hot and these pajamas are made of silk. I dare you to stain them,” Vil scolded.

You nodded. He handed you a tea cup.

“I was hoping to talk some things over with you, but it’s getting late. You can take this to the spare room down the hall and relax. Self-care time if you will. Here’s a bag for you to put your dirty clothes in. You can drop it off in the morning to the ghosts for laundry. When you get the chance to change, return the top to me. Capeesh?”

“Capeesh...” you mumbled, turning to the door, fumbling with the tea cup.

“(y/n),” he said.

“Yes?”

“Don’t disturb my beauty sleep.”

“Got it.”

“You didn’t let me finish, potato. You can disturb me if you need help with anything else regarding your anxiety. I won’t do things on your behalf, but I’m there to hold your hand. Just not during my beauty sleep, okay?”

“Okay…”

Vil was not lying when he said he wouldn’t treat you any less of a human. Even if there was a monster in your head, Vil treated you like he would anyone. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad. But how could he say such things with a straight face? It sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

No, no, (y/n). You mustn’t catch feelings for someone this quickly. If anything, you were in love with the idea of him, his kindness, how he helped you out and cared for you. But was it even kindness?

Even if these feelings weren’t spawned from the idea of loving him, Vil would never return them. He seemed to be the type to be into someone independent. Or at least someone who was not broken.

Mainly the former, it would seem. He didn’t pack your clothes even though he was the one who demanded that you strip, plunging you into a rose petal and lavender sprig bath. Admittedly, it was relaxing. He said something about lavender having a calming effect earlier. You smelt nice too.

Maybe for today, you could be comfortable in your own skin. Just this once. You smelt really nice.

[ Four Weeks Later, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Alright, puppies. We have another lab project. The details are in the packet. You are to concoct a potion using the ingredients we learned about this unit. Any potion is fine, but Amortentia is forbidden– as usual. This project will be due in two weeks. You will present your findings to the class in small groups. You can choose your partners. You were good puppies for the last few weeks so I’ll let you choose this time. Do not disappoint me,” Crewel said, cracking his whip.

You watched as the class swarmed into a chaotic mass. Students laughed and embraced one another. You scanned the crowd, looking for someone as unfortunate as you, someone without a partner.

“(y/n). Would you like to be partners?”

Oh. Vil. After all this time, you were baffled by the fact that he continued to interact with you after your meltdown weeks ago. What’s more is that he even followed you back on Magicam. He engaged in conversations with you, asking to check answers with you despite passing tests with flying colors just as you did. You never minded per se. Vil always had something to say. He wasn’t talkative, but he was captivating and civil with a hint of sarcasm. He had a lot to critique. Moreover, you two were from different worlds. Whenever he shared stories about his life, from modeling to troublesome classmates, you felt like a child with a new toy. You were immersed, zoned out of your surroundings, your focus on that one, single thing. In turn, you shared your own anecdotes, anxiety struggles and small victories— to which he celebrated with you through small, almost satirized, cheers and affirmations.

You were comfortable around him. Anxiety kept you from advancing your acquaintanceship to a friendship, but you were more than happy with sharing homework answers and making small talk. Vil most likely wanted to work with you because, as he said so before, you were reliable. Or was it responsible? Whatever the word was, you were useful to him. You were noticed in the best way possible. A twisted way to put it, but that’s simply how you felt.

Vil was not what Anxiety said he was and that was more than good enough for you.

“Sure,” you said.

“Wonderful,” he smiled.

You slid over as he took a seat next to you. Away from the sun, just as he liked it. You remembered your first encounter well.

“We’re presenting in small groups this time so you don’t have to worry that much about it,” he paused before continuing, “We can practice. When are you available?”

“Any time, really, I don’t have any clubs.. Or part-time jobs.”

“How does this Friday sound then? I’ll ask my manager to clear my schedule for that day.”

“You don’t have to clear your schedule. I can manage even if you come back late… Just don’t come to me the day before the deadline?”

Were you being too bold with this request?

“Friday then,” Vil said, flipping through the packet, “What type of potion do you want to make?”

“You can choose. I’m not really sure.”

“No, you are sure. You keep staring at that one page. I know you’ve read everything the moment it was handed to you. You certainly weren’t zoning out either.”

If there was anything worth noting about Vil over the short time that you’ve known him, it was that he was observant. Profoundly observant. Perhaps even more than you.

Vil clicked his tongue: “Spit it out, potato. I won’t judge you. I don’t have much of a preference either. We can compromise if we don’t agree.”

“Amortentia,” you winced.

“Now, that we can’t do,” he waved, “Didn’t you hear the professor say?”

“I did, but the structure of this potion is so intricate. I want to try.”

“Aphrodisiacs are prohibited. We can’t do it.”

“I know. I can dream though.”

“Do you have a boy in mind, potato?”

“It’s not like that,” you huffed.

If only he knew. You were head over heels for him– or rather the idea of him, someone who accepted you wholly without ever wanting to tame the monster inside your head. You weren’t sure if you loved Vil for who he was or what he did for you as a classmate. Do mere classmates have afternoon tea in each other’s dorms? Did they engage in small talk frequently?

Vil chuckled, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, potato.”

[ Friday, Library ]

“You’re late, (y/n),” Vil said, leaning against the door frame.

“Sorry.”

“I hope you weren’t planning on skipping out.”

“No, sir.”

“Sir? I’m not that old, you potato.”

You weren’t fond of the session already. While you enjoyed talking to Vil, his strict attitude was oftentimes a trigger for Anxiety. Vil made it rage, rattling against the cage that encasing your heart. It didn’t fancy that. Neither did you.

“Come sit,” he walked over to the desk.

His braid swayed back and forth. You followed him in suit, taking a seat. Vil reached for your shoulders and the small of your back. You yelped.

“Posture is the first step to confidence. If you shrink, you’ll portray your nervousness in the most obvious way possible. Feet flat on the ground and shoulders back.”

You felt exposed, flustered, but not to Vil’s touch. You felt vulnerable to a nonexistent crowd.

Vil stood up and took a seat before you, staring at you intently.

“Now, deep breath. Scan the crowd and focus on a point behind them, away from their eyes, but still in their direction. Remember to look around occasionally so it’s not obvious that you’re staring at the back of the room. You don’t have to make direct eye contact.”

You nodded sheepishly and obeyed. It wasn’t difficult. You could stare into his eyes forever. You hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward if you kept your gaze fixed on his.

“Shall we begin?”

[ Two Weeks Later, Alchemy Classroom ]

“Hold still, potato,” Vil hissed.

He held your jaw steadily as he applied a glossy red lip tint onto your lips. In a classroom. In public. How many people were staring at you two? What did they think? Did they think you were his plaything?

“I don’t see the point in dressing up.”

“Please. Lip tint and a few touch ups isn’t ‘dressing up’. Plus, you’ll feel more confident if you look confident. Own it, my friend.”

Friend? You were his friend? You could feel your cheeks getting rosy. At the same time, you felt a surge of adrenaline. Was it confidence? You were on cloud nine, feeling unstoppable. If he said so, then Vil would be your first friend at Night Raven College outside of your dorm.

But… what if he didn’t mean it?

No, no. he meant it. There was no need for Vil to lie. For him, lying was pointless. It was a waste of time; he preferred to get straight to the point even if it might be harsh on someone’s feelings. You’d learn to accept that his words come from honest intentions.

Crewel blew his whistle, signaling start time. Students flocked to their not-so-small groups. Vil had volunteered for the both of you to go first despite your protests, saying that it would be best to go first so you would not overthink and compare your presentation to others.

“I’m Vil Schoenheiit.”

He squeezed your thigh. The gesture was of chaste intentions, you were sure. Your leg was the only place he could touch in hindsight. Or so you assumed. Regardless, it set your insides on fire, but it made his presence known— as if to say “I’m here, don’t worry.”

Your breath hitched: “And I’m (y/n) (l/n).”

[ One Day Later, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Potato, what are you doing here? It’s the weekend.”

You hugged your sides. He was sweating. You’ve never seen Vil in anything but his school uniform, Pomefiore’s dorm uniform, and pajamas. There he was… standing right before you in a stormy gray tank top. While he was wearing pajama bottoms, the look was foreign to you. What should you say? You never knew he worked out. Were those weights heavy? Is he training for a certain role?

“I have something for you: a small thank you gift for yesterday,” you said, brushing past your thoughts.

“Oh? You don’t have to thank me. I wanted a good grade too so don’t think too highly of me… Simply improving is enough.”

You shook your head, “I insist. I want to do something for you too. I would feel guilty if it were any other way.”

Vil rested his palm on your head. You looked up at him attentively. The height difference between the both of you was immense. Compared to Vil, you were a dwarf.

“What is it that you want to show me?” he sighed.

You jumped with excitement, handing him a small container. He took them.

“What’s this?”

“Open them.”

“Alright, alright. Such a demanding potato…”

You watched him gingerly pop off the lid to reveal your culinary creation. Your eyes wandered back to his violet orbs.

“Potato, what is this?”

Did he honestly not know or did he think you were jesting?

“They’re oatmeal raisin cookies. I made them myself. It’s all organic ingredients, I promise. There’s apples in it too. I know you watch your diet, but I think it would be okay if you ate just one. At least?”

You scratched the back of your neck while Vil stared at them in bewilderment.

“Just one.”

“Yay~”

His furrowed eyebrows softened as he took a bite, “Not bad, potato.”

He placed it back in the container and closed the lid. Your heart sank. Was it just for show? Were they bad?

“Don’t take it personally. They are delicious. I don’t eat too many sweets though. I… also have a meeting with my producers after this. So perhaps later, my dear.”

“Oh alright.”

[ Someday– Your Birthday, Alchemy Classroom ]

You weren’t sure what kind of strings were pulled or if this class had free seating, but Vil gradually sat closer and closer to you. Now, his seat was next to you. He said that it was because he could not stand the other potatoes near his old seat and that he’d much rather sit with a friend who helped him stay on task– which in turn made your heart melt.

Answers weren’t the only things you two shared now. You often brought snacks to share with him. You brought healthy ones like apple crisps and celery sticks for accommodate the diet of your classmate. He only consumed workout smoothies in the morning. He would drink one before he went for a run with no post-workout smoothies to make up for the calories he burnt. For someone who claims to life a healthy lifestyle, Vil was oftentimes too busy to keep up with it. He rose when the sun kissed the tips of the hills. Granted, he could have risen earlier so he could consume his post-workout meal, but his work trails later in the night. Sleep was important to him. Between balancing his beauty sleep and fitness regime, he frequently came to Alchemy with his hair still wet from a morning shower, his eyes caked with concelaer, and an empty stomach.

The first time you offered him something to munch on and regain the calories burnt, he declined. But as these days became more frequent, Vil caved.

“Potato.”

He slumped against his desk– a rare sight from the Pomefiore student.

“You should stop pushing yourself,” you said, taking out a container.

He shook his head.

“A break would be nice once in a while, Vil.”

He rolled his eyes, slipping off his gloves to take off the lid. God, he was so stubborn. He was going to burn out one day.

“I don’t mind sharing food with you, but you should pace yourself. Take a day off”

He shook his head again. Why though? Did his schedule not allow him to? Vil worked late sometimes, but was it worth it?

“Potato.”

“Hm?”

“Do you have anything aside from these cookies?”

You inhaled sharply, closing the lid and shoving it in your bag. They might have crumbled, but you didn’t want him to know.

“Unfortunately, no sorry,” you sighed, clutching your bag’s handle.

“Fine then. I’ll just eat one then.”

“No.”

“Why not? “

“It’s not healthy for you.”

Vil lunged for your bag. His stomach growled. You did your best to stifle a giggle.

“You just said it was alright to take a break,” he said.

“You can’t have them.”

“How come?”

“They’re for me…” you whispered.

“Come again?”

“These are mine.”

He hummed, clearly not buying into your excuse. Perhaps excuse was not the right word because they were for you. They were self-indulgent treats that you made for yourself around this time of year. They were self-indulgent with a miserable origin.

At this point, he was gripping your wrist. Since when was VIl this forceful? He never crossed any boundaries. He was never nosy. Was he concerned? Or did the madness of hunger consume him?

He was akin to a stray kitten. You were the one to offer him food in the first place. There were two cookies. One wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine. Just one. Please don’t eat the other though. I’d like to eat one on my birthday.”

“Birthday? Potat–”

You put your hand over his mouth on impulse. He was going to throw a fit with you for placing your “breeding ground for bacteria” on his face, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded, “But, yes, today is my birthday.”

Crewel’s footsteps echoed through the room, “Silence, puppies!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Vil hissed under his breath.

“I’m not big on birthdays. The attention is too much– plus, rarely anyone celebrates with me.”

“You honestly remind me of that one miserable Diasomnia first year from the class next door.”

The conversation was left at that.

[ A Few Hours Later, Courtyard ]

“Potato.”

“Vil?”

Where did he come from? How did he find you? Class had ended a few minutes ago. What’s more is that you only saw him every other day due to the Alchemy schedules. It was the only class you had with him. You never saw him outside of class, aside from rare encounters in the cafeteria. You ate in the library to avoid people so that was partly your fault too.

“Come with me.”

“Pardon?”

“I won’t take no for an answer. You are the birthday girl, after all.”

He struck his signature pose, one hand on his hip and the other pointed, barely touching his cheek. When did he develop this again?

Wait. What did he just say?

[ Pomefiore Dormitory, Vil’s Bedroom ]

“Here. This is an anxiety journal. Think of it as a diary to write your thoughts down in case you don’t have anyone to talk to”

“Vil, I can't take this,” you said, pushing the notebook away.

“I insist.”

“Still…”

“You said you didn’t celebrate. And that others didn’t celebrate either, no?”

“Yes…”

“If you don’t put yourself out there and let people know, then how are others going to celebrate? And then you go mope around and eat cookies all by yourself in the library with the ghosts?”

Was he watching you? You were sure that there was no one there when the ghosts sang you happy birthday.

“I never said I was moping. I don’t care if I’m all alone. I don’t mind at all. I’m perfectly okay with that. I don’t need to be acknowledged or receive any gifts of pity so please just leave it at that…. I appreciate the gesture though.”

He leered. You took a step back. Was he angry? Why? This doesn’t concernto him. Why was he getting angry?

“I care. So take it.”

You caved, taking the journal. It was similar to the Pomefiore dorm leader’s grimoire: leather bound, decorated in gold decals in floral patterns and peacock feathers. It was pretty. You were a fool. A sensitive and broken fool. You were crying over a notebook, a gift put together at the last minute with tender loving care by a classmate you barely knew. It had been a long time since you felt this happy, this acknowledged.

Vil grimaced, “Oh stop crying already. I told you that I was here for you.”

He embraced you. It was awkward, but wholesome. You never hugged him before. He was warm. Perhaps a little bony for it to be of any comfort, but that was most likely due to the position you two were him. His head pats were stiff. It was ill at ease, but endearing.

Vil was your friend. Though not the closest, you treasured his actions. You weren’t sure how he put up with you. Or why even, but all you were concerned in at this moment was that he cared. It would be lovely to not assume the worst in people for once.

[ Present Day, Vil’s Bedroom ]

What would Vil surprise with you this year? He hasn’t mentioned anything yet.

The makeover was nice, but you weren’t big on makeovers. Did you get to keep this dress? It was embellished with lace and frills– fancy. It was white, pink and floral like the Heartslabyul croquet court. You felt pretty albeit out of your own skin. Vil hummed a soft song whilst cleaning his makeup brushes.

Would that be all? It was your first birthday as a couple. Were you ungrateful if you asked if there was anything else? His schedule was tight. What would he say if you mentioned that today was your birthday? What would he say if you asked if he had forgotten? Would you sound narcissistic?

Would he say the same thing he said to you when you were second years?

[ One Year Ago, Someday– Your Birthday, Hallway ]

“Vil!”

You were so excited to see him again. You couldn’t stop yourself from running up to him.

“(y/n).”

“I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you? Congratulations. It’s a bit late though. How’s being Pomefiore’s new dorm leader treating you?”

He brushed his hair off his shoulders. Ah... a new hairstyle. He was wearing the barette you made for his birthday. You missed the French braid, but you felt that he was more relaxed when he let his hair down (literally).

“Rook. Guide the baby potatoes back to our dorm. Give us a moment,” Vil said to the person he was walking with.

Rook, you assumed. He was bizarre with his exaggerated features and hat. You were certain that the accessory violated campus dress codes. Needless to say, he was beautiful in his own way– just like any Pomefiore student.

“Oui, Roi du Poison. I shall leave you with ta chérie~” he breathed, prancing away with the first years.

“Ta what now?”

“Don’t mind him,” Vil said, “I am doing well, thank you, (y/n).”

No “potato” this time? Not even once? You hadn’t seen him since your second year started, only keeping up with his life through Magicam and story replies. Sometimes, he messaged you to check up on you or ask to compare answers for Alchemy and Potions. You packed snacks for him though that routine eventually ceased as Vil began taking better care of himself, opting only to run when he had the time.

You missed those days, but his well being was more important than your own selfish feelings. You had grown fond of that nickname since he used it so often. It was a term of endearment. It saddened you that he called others potatoes as well.

“Happy birthday by the way,” Vil said.

“Oh! You remember?”

“There you go again. I don’t have the memory of a goldfish– of course I remember. Though I don’t have a gift for you this time around.”

Did you offend him? Did you sound needy? You weren’t asking for any presents. Did it come off that way?

“I don’t need anything so it’s fine.”

Or rather, you didn't expect anything.

“Good grief. It’s your birthday. Chin up. Have the attention on yourself for one day. It’s your day after all. Anyhow,I would love to chit chat more, but my schedule is tight. I cannot dilly dal–”

You reached for his hand, “W-Would you like to hang out at a café sometime then?”

You cut him off. Was that too abrupt? Rude? Uncalled for? You should have let him leave even if you did miss being around him, being friends with him.

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to. I was just thinking that maybe we could spend some time together and catch up. We haven’t seen each other in person too much. I’m not comfortable with too much attention either so yours is more than enough.”

God, what were you saying? That was cringe-worthy. You prayed that he would decline your impulsive proposal.

“I don’t see why not. Very well then, (y/n). Text me the details so I can adjust my schedule accordingly.”

Wait. He agreed? Was he pitying you? No, no. Stop doubting him. Vil was your friend. He must’ve missed being around you too.

[ One Month Later, Cafe Rosé ]

When he said he was busy, he meant it. A month had passed since your birthday and just now were you able to meet up.

You sat in the café idly. He watched you consume your third plate of strawberry shortcake. You glanced at him then at your growing pile of dishes. He squinted. Should you stop?

“Don’t.”

Did he read your mind?

“No, I’m not a mind reader.”

“But you did it again.”

“Your expressions are easy to read. Do yourself a favor and don’t feel bad if you enjoy something and I don’t. Someone who makes you feel bad for getting excited about something– something harmless, something you enjoy, is the worst kind of person. Enjoy your cake, birthday girl. Don’t let me, or anyone for that matter, stop you.”

Vil sipped his hand-pressed superfruit smoothie vehemently.

That was oddly inspiring despite having relevance to your self-esteem and cake. Funnily enough, you did feel better about yourself.

“Excuse me? May I get three more slices of this cake? And another teapot, please?” you called out to a server impulsively.

What on earth were you doing? Was that rude? Did she find you demanding?

“Anything else?”

“That’ll be all for now.”

You turned from the waitress, bringing your attention back to Vil. You cocked your head to the side: “What?”

“Consume cake in moderation, you potato.”

There it was. You’ve been waiting all semester to be called a potato. Pomefiore first years have expressed a strong dislike for the nickname. You, on the other hand, treasured it. Time and memories were built into that nickname.

“It’s fine. I’m paying anyway so don’t worry.”

“You are not paying on your birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday though.”

“We’re here for a belated celebration.”

“So an unbirthday?”

“No, no. Don’t bring the Queen of Hearts’s rules and gimmicks into this,” Vil waved his hand.

He set his smoothie down, The ice shifted, echoing throughout the café.

“I want to pay. I wanted to go here in the first place.”

“Think of this as my belated birthday present for you, atonement for not getting you anything or talking as much we’d like.”

“Vil, I don’t require anything from you. You’re busy. You don’t have to talk to me everyday. I think I would combust if you did. My social battery would drain.”

“That’s reassuring.”

The waitress cleared her throat. Vil nodded, sliding his glass to the further end of the table. She placed the cake slices in a neat triangle before setting the teapot down in the center. Then she followed up with the teacups–one for you, one for Vil. He raised an eyebrow at you. Your server gave a polite bow and dismissed herself.

“Eat one slice. Then I’ll let you pay,” you beamed, sliding him the plate.

He glared at the confection, “Alright.”

[ March, Pomefiore Dormitory Hallway ]

“Bonjour, bonjour! What brings you to our humble dorm?”

Rook was his name right?

“Hello, Rook. I was hoping–”

He scared the living daylight out of you. Where did he come from? Why was nobody else around? You spun your heel and scanned the hall. It was empty.

“Echanté, mademoiselle! Let me guess!”

You yelped, falling backwards. Where did he come from? He was behind you a moment ago. His eyes widened as he lunged for you, hooking his arm around your waist, catching you before you made contact with the ground.

“Careful, careful, little fawn,” he chuckled.

Fawn?

He set you straight then pointed at you. His gloved index finger barely touched the bridge of your nose. This man, Rook, was sending your nerves in a downward spiral.

He smiled at you, resuming like nothing ever happened: “Let me guess– you’re looking for your darling Roi du Poison?”

“Darling… Roi du Poison? Who? Vil?”

“Oui.”

“No, he’s not.. we’re not. We’re just friends. I’m looking for him though bec–”

“Are you here for compensation?”

Rook set Anxiety loose. With a few words, he sent shivers down your spine. Compensation. Would your friendship end the moment you fulfilled his request? It had always been in the back of your mind. The thought of Vil using you to make him feel better about himself shatters you into a million pieces. The thought of owing Vil something for helping you, for being your friend, was heart-wrenching. Was it pity after all this time? Was it so wrong to want to hang out at yet another café? You looked forward to those every month– ever since your unbirthday date. Was your relationship that superficial?

No, it wasn’t a date. You wanted it to be, but it was not a date. You never quite shook off those romantic feelings you felt when you saw a different side to him. Beneath the surface of the poised, strict and sometimes narcissistic prefect, Vil was extremely hard working, passionate, and observant. He was the greatest friend you could ever ask for. You can’t say that he was your best friend, but he was close. If he didn’t feel the same, then that was okay with you. You weren’t even sure if it was love. You’ve had this debate with Anxiety before. It kept telling you that you were in love with the idea of him fixing you. That was not love.

You shook your head. Vil genuinely was your friend. If those feelings were not returned, then you would still be friends. He told you time and time again that you should never feel sorry for the way you feel. If so, then would it be alright to tell him one day? And feel terrible about it later?

“He’s here, isn’t he?” you asked.

“Oui~”

“Rook, (y/n),” a voice from the end of the half coughed.

Pomefiore’s vice dorm leader crossed his arms and gave you a smug smile. Vil. He was decked out in a trench coat and a black turtleneck. Stylish as always, but his hoarse voice told a different story. You rushed to Vil’s side.

“Vil, are you alright?,” you tugged his sleeves, “Your eyes are so puffy. Have you been crying? You’re burning up too. You should rest. Go back to bed this instant. Our café rendezvous can wait.”

He staggered: “No. I want to go with you. I finally have the time.. to see you… I have to make it count...”

“No, Vil. You have a fever. You need to rest,” you said, sliding his arm over your shoulders, ready to haul him back to his quarters.

Rook hummed a bird’s song.

“Would you mind helping?”

The height difference between you and Vil was awkward. His legs are dragged across the floor in a languid manner. One could imagine how uncomfortable that was.

“Non non, little fawn! My hands are dirty. Roi du Poison wouldn’t allow me to taint his beauty with such bacteria. Désolé!”

“Can you at least get the door then?”

“Will do, milady,” he bowed before complying to your request.

He held the door for you as you dragged Vil to his bed. You gasped as Vil’s limbs tighten around your neck.

“Would you mind getting the sheets too? Pull them out so I can tuck him in?”

Rook hummed in response. You plopped Vil onto the mattress. Your companion’s eyes widened, hands thrown in the air.

“Mademoiselle! Careful! Roi du Poison is fragile like a flower’s first bloom.”

“He’ll be fine don’t worry. Now if you could–”

Where did he go? You blinked for one minute and the vice prefect was gone. You shook your head in dismay, turning to Vil and tucked him in bed. He looked so peaceful. His eyes were so distraught and dull before. Did he overwork himself to the point of tears? His room was a mess– shreds of fabric and crumpled balls of paper were discarded on the floor. You could hear his breathing as you made way to his desk.

What’s this? A script? And a sewing machine? What was he making? His sketches were stunning. Was this a side project of his? Was he too busy with films to continue with it? But why were his eyes so puffy?

Whatever the case was, it wasn’t your place to pry. Your fingers trailed off over the sketchbook as you made your way to his bathroom. You didn’t know where he kept the medicine or what kind he used, but it was worth a try to look around.

You opened the cabinet and your face fell. At a glance, he didn’t have anything aside from comesetics. There were a few bottles of potions, but you couldn’t make out the labels. It was best not to guess and check. The least you could do was place a wet on his head to cool down the fever. You peered over the bathroom’s door frame.

He wouldn’t mind. He was breathing heavily. You’ll face the consequences later if it violated his beauty regime. Hurriedly, you grabbed a small towel off the shelf, rinsing it in cold water in the sink. You squeezed off the excess and rushed to Vil, cursing at intervals where the water dripped onto whatever expensive material the flooring was made of. Was it expensive? You couldn’t tell. You placed it on his head gingerly.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Holy… what did you just do? You were taking advantage of him when he was out cold. If he was awake what would he say? Why did you do that? Why did that make your heart flutter?

“F-Feel better, Vil. I’ll be going now. Tell me when you wake up,” you sighed, patting your cheeks down.

You were a fool for initiating such an intimate act while someone was sleeping. You were also talking to said someone as if they were listening. It was best to excuse yourself now. Though maybe a little note would be helpful for when he wakes up. Your sleeves dipped. Your eyes went to the source of motion: Vil.

“Fairest… can you stay?”

You were at a loss for words. Vil called you “Fairest”– as if your other nickname didn’t exist. His face was flushed from the heat and his eyes were red and teary. What to do? What to do? What to do?

Vil tugged at your sleeves and pulled you onto the bed. Your mind went blank. You were on top of him, preventing yourself from crushing him with your weight, hands pinned on each side of his head.

“V-Vil?”

He pulled you onto him, then turned to the side, causing you to face each other. The blankets were ruffled, wrapping you two into a contorted position. The towel slipped off his face. You scrambled out of bed. Vil lunged for you, pulling you back in.

“I said stay,” he pouted.

“I know, I was just getting out of bed to get back in. Wait that doesn’t make sense?”

“It does,” he said, lifting the sheets so you could climb in,

You yelped as he pulled you into his chest, “Vil? What are you doing?”

“I wanted to see you today.”

“I’m here.”

“I wanted to go on another date with you.”

Date? Does he think it was a date too? Every single one? Great Seven, have mercy…

“You should rest. We can hang out here if you want.”

Your hold on his waist tightened. You inhaled the faint scent of his cologne. Perhaps to him, this was a fever dream. Stil, all love takes patience– if what you both felt was love, that is.

“Thank you for staying , (y/n).”

“...Do you want to talk about it? Usually you’re the one listening to me, but I’m here for you too. ”

Vil buried his head into your shoulders, “Nothing much. Just overworked. Stress came to me in the form of sickness, unfortunately. How inconvenient.”

He clicked his tongue while you giggled. Even if bedridden, Vil’s mind was as proactive as ever.

“Were you crying?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer.”

How do you comfort someone? You’ve always been the one comforted, especially from Vil. Were you gaining more from the relationship than Vil did? You wanted him to cheer up though...

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s better to get it off my chest while you’re still here.”

What did he mean by that? You weren’t leaving. Why would you? How could you?

“Do you think I’m more than my appearance?”

He was shaking. Vil was shaking. What could have possibly happened from the last time you saw him? Was he alright?

“Why do you want my opinion? We both know you’re more than a pretty face.”

“Answer the question.”

“Alright, alright. I do think you have a pretty face. You’re gorgeous, very handsome… but you’re also hardworking, diligent, strong-willed, driven, intelligent, observant and more words that I can’t think of to describe how I feel about you. Oh and a great alchemist and friend I might add. Vil, you’re pretty. You’re beautiful. Inside and out.”

Your heart hurt. Calling him your friend didn’t sit right with you. He threw his head back in a fit of laughter.

“Did I ramble too much?”

“No, not at all. I feel much better so thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better then. Whatever happened, I hope you know that it doesn’t define you. If you feel like it does, then remember that I’m your biggest fan.”

Ah, too cheesy. You’ve gotten too comfortable around Vil to think about Anxiety or your verbal filter. When you were with him, words flowed as freely as time.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

He didn’t say anything much about it. Was that not weird for him? Did you offer the solace he was looking for? He merely pulled away from your embrace. You thanked the heavens that his eyes were closed. If he made eye contact with you while you two were still sharing the same bed, you might as well ascend to the afterlife.

“Why do you ask though?”

“Oh I just had a miserable case of self-doubt is all. My manager kept taking roles that type-casted me as beautiful as the main character. I know I’m worth more than my looks- I want to be more than my looks- but so far the industry has told me otherwise… but thank you, (y/n).”

He stayed like that for a while, inhaling and exhaling softly. Was he sleeping? How much time had passed?

“Vil. I have a question for you. You don’t have to answer if you’re not up to it. I know you have a lot on your mind right...” you said, breaking the silence.

“Shoot.”

“Will I be able to see you again after I compensate for the time I’ve wasted?”

“You don’t waste time. You don’t have to compensate for anything. I’m glad you’re here with me. If anything, I wasted your time.”

“But you said that we could talk about compensation later. It’s been over a year, Vil,” you whimpered.

“What do you mean by compensation?” he asked firmly, opening his eyes.

You choked on your own words. This was a bad idea. It might even offend him. Would if offend him? You wanted to know.

“Our first presentation. My anxiety attack. The infirmary. You helped me. I asked why then you said there was a price and we could talk about it later. But that conversation never came up. Why is that? Why did you come to the infirmary that night? Why did you take me in? Why am I here? Why do you still talk to me?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from spewing all of the questions you had for these past months. You needed to know. You needed your heart to shatter.

He sighed, “Good grief, (y/n). You remember all of that still? It’s not as bad as you think.”

He was offended.

“Please don’t say that.”

He inhaled sharply.

“My apologies, potato. I didn’t mean it like that. But to answer your question, I felt guilty especially since I was the one who forced you onto the podium and made you redo the presentation because I couldn’t manage my first major acting role and my academics at the same time. I am sorry that you had to suffer the consequences.”

Vil turned onto his back. He brought his forearm to cover his eyes. Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? Did it hurt his pride?

“I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry that I ruined our project because I couldn’t manage to improvise.”

“You shouldn’t apologize for that.”

“You shouldn’t either. Your feelings are just as valid as mine. Even if you don’t have anxiety, you still can feel anxious and overwhelmed.”

“Touché.”

“And the compensation?”

“You needn’t worry about that. My time is valuable indeed but you’re not a waste of my time at all. You’re worthwhile.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you muttered.

“Hm?”

“What would have been the compensation?”

Vil turned to face you, rustling the sheets, “Are you that curious, Fairest?”

“F-Fairest?”

“Hm, yes it suits you now more than ever. Close your eyes for a moment. This should be quick.”

You obliged, closing your eyes. Vil wouldn’t do something terrible to you would he? He gripped your shoulders and pushed you flat on your back. You felt him shift his leg so he could straddle you. You instinctively cursed yourself in a ball.

“You can relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You loosened your muscles, trying hard not to burst into a fit of nervous laughter. You were scared.

“Fairest.”

“Yes?”

“How was your day?”

“Well, it was—mmmphhh!”

Vil had told you to keep your eyes closed, but how could you? Not when he was kissing you. You had waited for this moment. You fantasized about it, daydreaming, pining for him on the daily. You never saw it coming. Did he return your feelings? After all this time? You mewled as he bit your bottom lip. You were hot, feverish just like your beloved prefect. Was he alright? He was flushed, coughing as you pushed him away.

“My time has been compensated,” he smirked.

His expression quickly changed, “Hey! Why are you crying? Did I hurt you? That was too bold wasn’t it… Goodness (y/n)...”

You cupped his cheeks.

“Not at all. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”

“Feel the same?”

You faltered. Was he toying with you? No, he wouldn’t…

“I-I like you a lot, you know. I don’t know of a time I didn’t. You’re so confident and I adore you for that. I love how you’re always there for me, how you always listen to me, and how you lean on me too. I love how you include me and see me no less than anyone else. I love you so much that my heart hurts,” you paused and moved your hands to clutch your chest, “But if it isn’t love then I suppose that’s fine too. I think I might be in love with the idea of you. It might be a little presumptuous here, spouting nonsense to you, but I don’t want to be just friends. Even if I am broken, I want to make you happy so please accept my feelings-!”

Cheesy. Too cheesy! You’re oversharing, (y/n). Stop. It. Death suddenly seemed like a viable option. You loved him so much that you must die. Yes, that was the only way.

Vil kissed you. This time, it was more of a peck.

“This whole time… you… I love you too, Fairest. I accept you and your feelings. Thank you for being so patient with me,” he kissed the trail of tears running down your cheeks, “You already make me so happy. I love your innocence, your beauty—inside and out as you would say. I admire your strength to help others despite being in a world of your own. I love your selflessness and... your adorable reactions to situations that make you anxious. Please, tug at my sleeves some more.”

You pouted at the last bit. Vil was observant. You’ve come to learn that the hard way. The trait never withered.

He continued: “I will be in your care from now on.”

Ah. He was crying. Smiling too. What a sappy mess of emotions you two were, sobbing in each other’s arms over a mutual confession.

He flicked your forehead, “And don’t you dare call yourself broken. You are not below me and I am not above you. We’re in this together. I love you and you love me and you better love yourself too. You hear me, potato?”

“Yes, but–”

“Did I stutter?”

You pressed your forehead against his, “Will do, Vil.”

He lowered his weight onto you, nuzzling into your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck and combed through his champagne gold locks. You were sniffling. You were relieved that he loved you the way you loved him. You were relieved that you didn’t fall in love with potential. He loved you for you and you loved him the same. What if you weren’t good enough for? No, no, he said he felt the same. Stop overthinking, (y/n).

You were drained after all this worrying. Being plagued by thoughts assuming the worst about him and the worst case scenarios concerning your confession consumed your mind. There was not a single day where your head was clear.

You were exhausted. So, so, so tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of Anxiety. Sleep seemed nice right now especially with Vil laying on top of you. The monster inside your head had gone dormant. All there was the thought of Vil being by your side, loving you and Anxiety all the same.

Your consciousness faded.

[ April, Someday– Vil’s Birthday, Pomefiore Dormitory Hallway ]

“Vil. Vil!!!” you squealed, tackling your lover from behind.

He staggered on his toes, but recovered swiftly. He was tall. The stilettos made him taller. You were up to his shoulders, giggling, slipping under the long sleeves of the Pomefiore dorm uniform.

“Au revoir, Roi du Poison. Mademoiselle (y/n),” Rook chuckled and excused himself.

Vil gave Rook a look of disdain yet the vice prefect skipped along the halls, paying no mind to the daggers coming his way. Your beloved turned to you and smiled.

“Happy birthday~”

“You’re frisky today.”

“I’m excited.”

“I can see that. Thank you,” he pats your head.

“Are you busy?”

“I’m finishing up something. You’re welcome to wait in my room. Might I tell you that you look beautiful today? Red lipstick suits you.”

You followed him into his quarters, seating yourself on the bed, fiddling with the ends of your hair. He called you beautiful. You were giddy over something trivial. It was normal for one to call their significant other beautiful. In truth, he was the fairest, not you. You never minded. You loved watching him flourish in the spotlight.

You watched him undo his bun, letting his hair fall loose. The ends were curled, bouncing on his shoulders. He stepped into the bathroom to shed the dorm uniform off, opting for a black suit with faint floral patterns. Your eyes widened, coming to terms with the fact that he wore no dress shirt underneath the suit.

“You’re eighteen now, Vil,” you mused.

“What of it?”

“Oh nothing. I was just thinking.”

He hummed in response, “Is that so?”

“It feels like yesterday when we were both- what? Fifteen? Nevermind that. It’s silly. Would you like to see your gift now?”

“How does after the party sound?” he asked, lining his eyes with a thick eyeliner.

A thin smirk creeped up on his lips.

The look was similar to the standard ceremonial robes makeup. His silver chain-like earrings, leather choker and red heels threw off the professional look. Vil was striking. From what he told you, his producers had invited him to a party celebrating the release of a film he starred in. It was conveniently on his birthday. He spent the last few weeks convincing you to go with him.

You gave in, but the thought of attending a social gathering with people you had never met before worried you. Vil reassured you that he would remain by your side at all times. You agreed on the spot, putting on a brave face for his sake. He promised to spend time with you afterwards. Just you and him. He even agreed to eat cake.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Thank you. I know you’re excited, but I want to save all the birthday related things for after.”

He set his makeup down and handed you a container of gel, climbing onto the bed while you got on your knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You never let me do your hair.”

“Think of it as a reward for coming along with me.”

“I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that,” you said, letting go of your embrace and popping off the container’s lid.

“I’m thankful, but don’t push yourself for me.”

“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I want to. You’re going to be busy after today. I want to spend as much time as possible with you today.”

He smiled and helped you push his hair back. Dipping your fingers into the cool aquamarine substance, you combed through your lover’s hair, bringing his bangs back. When you finished, he turned around to kiss you. He caught you off guard, but you leaned into the kiss instantly. It wasn’t passionate nor was it chaste. It was somewhere in between as to not smear your lipstick. You reached for his hair to deepen it, but he grabbed your wrists. Right. You had forgotten.

“Later,” he whispered.

Your cheeks were dusted with a rosy tint. Later? As quickly as he pulled away from you, Vil slid off the bed. He passed by his mirror, patting down his suit and hair. Then, he extended his hand to you, “Shall we go?”

[ Land of Pyroxene, Venue’s Rose Gardens ]

Vil said it was a small social gathering. A small party. The amount of people was fair to his description, but the setting was overwhelming. It was sophisticated. There were fae servers and ice sculptures. You were surprised to learn that the soirée was held in his homeland. You were expecting a carriage yet he simply led you to the mirror chamber where the headmaster bid him farewell.

And here you are. You were in a rose garden differed from Heartslabyul’s greatly as the roses were as white as snow. They grew on pickets and hung over your heads like grape vines. It was scenic, ethereal, like something out of a fairytale. There was also a castle in the distance, adding to the regality of the venue.

“Vil! Oh thank goodness you’re here. I almost thought you were going to leave me to fend against all of these actors wanting to know more about you,” a stout woman said, scrambling towards him, “Oh? Is this your– ohhhhh–”

“Adella, this is (y/n). Fairest, this is Adella, my manager.”

Vil paused, cueing you for an introduction. He glanced at you.

“Chin up, dear,” he wrapped an arm around your waist, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Breathe. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Adella was Vil’s manager. Like he said, she’s nothing to be afraid of.

“P-Pleasure to meet you,” you extended your hand out.

She took it with a death grip. Sheer willpower prevented you from wincing.

“No, no, the pleasure is mine. Vil has told me so much about you. And my, he calls you ‘Fairest’ how adorable~”

“What has he told you?”

You heard his breath hitch. Vil’s arm slithered back to his side. Was that too much? You were curious, but what if that made him uncomfortable? You should apologize later.

“Nothing much. I didn’t even know what you looked like even! His pet name for you suits you so well. Oh! I do know that he frequently asks about his schedule because he said that he wants to spend time with the s–”

“That’s enough now, Adella,” Vil said, crossing his arms and putting his weight on one foot.

Shoot. He was displeased.

“Yes, yes, sorry. Shall we go greet your colleagues? You are free to mingle afterwards. I know that there was this one actor who was practically begging me to see you. You weren't here yet though so what could I do? Fufufu~”

“Are you coming, (y/n)?” Vil asked, turning his head to see you trailing behind.

You halted and pointed to the dessert table, “You can go on ahead.”

He nodded and followed his manager to the east side of the garden. You made your way to your own destination. While you wanted to go with Vil, meeting Adella set your nerves ablaze and drained all the social energy you had. Plus, you felt out of place when you stood next to Vil.

Compared to him, you could never pull off silver earrings. A pair of red heels simply looked better on him than they ever would on you. Then there was Adella who was also gorgeous with her messy bun and nude lipstick. She wasn’t a public figure yet you felt small around her presence. She exuded a lovable aura that drew people around her. If you had to meet more people who were meant for the spotlight, celebrities no less, you could never manage through the night. If you avoided strangers, you should be fine. There were cake pops amongst other treats at the table. You were going to have a ball of a time.

You plucked the confection off its stand, examining it thoroughly. It was as luxurious as the party’s decor. The dessert resembled the poison apple the Beautiful Queen from the stories you were told as a child. Gold foil acted as the poison while a red coating of candy melts acted as the skin of the apple. You bit the top off. It was a vanilla sponge cake. Odd for an extravagant event like this as you assumed the flavors would be bolder. Maybe it was the kind expensive vanilla. Were they all the same flavor? You plucked another one from the stand, biting into it. Oh this one was red velvet with a cream cheese filling. Were there other flavors?

“My, my, you sure like the cake pops, don’t you?” a voice cooed.

You turned your head to meet the owner of that sweet voice. He had hair as black as ebony and skin as white as snow. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown. He wore a yellow jumpsuit with a red ribbon which was complemented by a black beret. He strained a smile at you.

“You needn’t look at me like a deer in headlights. It’s okay I like cake pops too,” he laughed.

“Who are you?”

“Eh? You don’t know who I am?”

You shook your head. He blinked twice.

“I’m Neige LeBlanche, lead actor of the film. But, say, since you don’t know who I am, I’m assuming you’re someone’s plus one? You seem kind of young though...”

He took a cake pop from the stand, peeling off the gold foil.

“I’m Vil’s plus one.”

“Vil? I would have never guessed. I thought he said he wasn’t bringing someone. He didn’t seem like he wanted to either...” he mumbled something and paused, “As expected of my senior! Say, what are you to him?”

You pulled the ends of your hair, “I-I’m his girlfriend.”

“Is that so? He never mentioned having a girlfriend. I always thought he was going to end up–”

“We started dating a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my, that’s–”

“I have to go so if you’ll excuse me, Neige. It’s been nice meeting you. Congrats on the film,” you waved.

“No, no, the pleasure is mine, (y/n). I’m glad I got to meet Vil’s girlfriend. You were so sweet! I hope we can talk some more in the future! Oh I know–You should follow me on MagiCam! We can talk there,” he exclaimed, clasping his hands around yours.

He was so bubbly… You didn’t know how to handle him. Was this interaction not awkward to him at all? Your cheeks flushed as you excused yourself. You held your head down low and avoided eye contact with everyone you crossed paths with. Where you were headed to was a mystery, even to you. Anywhere was fine. Anywhere secluded. Anywhere without people, but close enough to trace your footsteps back to the rose gardens should anything arise.

Of course, that was the ideal scenario. In your situation, nothing was ideal per se. You were lost. You had trudged forward whilst looking at the ground, not getting a good look of your surroundings at all. It was hard to tell where you were. If you had known better, you would say that you were in a children’s book. The rose bushes towered high above your head and the castle was closer than it was before. In the center of it all was a gazebo adorned with intricate floral details. There was also a well to the side of the structure. You made your way to the gazebo and sat down on the bench, gazing upon the beauty of the raven sky. It glittered like a thousand fireflies.

You sighed, “The moon is beautiful tonight.”

[ Some Ungodly Hour, Venue’s Rose Garden ]

“Nghh…”

“You’re awake now?”

Vil? What was he doing here? The moon was high in the sky. It was late. You were resting your head on his lap. You sat upright in an abrupt motion.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Ruining the party by running off and falling asleep, wasting your time when you could have been talking to someone more important–”

Vil put a finger to your lips: “I was getting exhausted of people commenting on my looks anyway. You did worry me by running off though. To think that I had to ask Neige of all people too.”

That last part about Neige. Did he not like his co-star? He ran his hand through his hair while you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. You opted to lean your head on his shoulder. Vil reciprocated by placing his head on top of yours, nuzzling it.

“The party is still ongoing so don’t worry,” he said, “Though you could have told me where you were.”

You exhaled. Thank goodness. It would have been embarrassing if it ended.

“Sorry about that.”

“Was it that exhausting for you? I told you not to push yourself for my sake. It makes neither of us happy.”

“At first, no, I wasn’t. I was a bit nervous around your manager but then Neige threw me off for a bit–”

“Neige? What did he say to you?”

“Nothing. He just asked what I was to you and I wasn’t prepared for that.”

“We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?”

Your stomach growled. You looked down at the ground. Suddenly the grass below your feet was the most interesting thing in the world. He took your hand firmly. His grip was different. He held you as if he was about to lose you.

“I had talked to everyone I needed to talk to. I’m done for the day and so are you. I would like to celebrate my birthday now with my dearly beloved if she would please.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. There was no room for apologies.

You rose from the bench, grimacing at the soreness and took his hand, following him to the mirror.

[ Midnight, Vil’s Bedroom ]

Was he mad? He said he wasn’t. But then why was he handling you so roughly? Vil pulled you into the bathroom. He turned the faucet on, drawing water into the bathtub. He grabbed a bottle of bubble bath product and rose petals. He emptied the contents and discarded the containers onto the cool tiles. They rattled and echoed. Vil turned to his cabinets, searching for something. Strands of his loosely gelled hair swayed back and forth as he sifted through his cosmetics. He muttered gibberish as he found makeup wipes. Pulling you towards him, he began to wipe the gunk off your face. His motions were rigid, frantic, like he was wiping at a stubborn speck on a mirror. He turned you around and undid your dress’s zipper. The process was akin to a kitten’s first yawn. Slow, drawling yet somehow winsome. The act was intimate. Vil manhandling you was a first. It spawned many mixed motions. The positives outweigh the negatives, but was he alright? His eyes were ready to cry. They were glossy to the rim. When the zipper reached the end of its path, he pushed you aside and tended to his own face with a new wipe.

“Strip and get into the tub,” he instructed.

Strip? That was off-putting, especially from him. He didn’t want to have birthday sex did he? Or would he leave when he was done with his makeup? It had to be the latter. You held your sides, preventing the dress from slipping down your shoulders. But what if he did? What if he wanted to let out his frustrations on you? Was that it? He said he was more worried than upset, but his actions betrayed his words. He was tense. He could burst at any moment. Vil, as he was now, was a time bomb, ticking away. You feared he might break.

Vil snapped his fingers before you. You flinched. As you regain focus into the real world, you come to the sight of your lover in the tub, hair wet and his body leaning against the edge. His clothes were hanging on the laundry hamper. You looked away, excusing yourself under your breath. A tug on the hem of your dress stopped you in your tracks. He had broken. His eyes were red and puffy though no tears trailed down his fair complexion. You knelt down beside the tub, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“Vil…”

“Could you stay?”

“In the tub?”

“Only if you want to.”

Why is it that he could always see through you? Was your discomfort obvious? No, no, he was merely attentive. Then again, you were equally observant to everyone, especially towards Vil. Your darling was an open book, an easy read– the merit being that his words rarely matched his actions. He was a novel full of metaphors, eloquent tones and arbitrary words. Underneath the complications, he was as simple as the next composition. He was as insecure as any other person, if not more. To read Vil Schoenheit, you mustn't analyze his speech. Words fail in this case. You had to look for the little things: his weight shifting on one leg, his shoulders tensing, his eyebrows furrowing for a brief moment, his shortness of breath, his eyes.

In this very moment in time, Vil needed you. He said there was no obligation, but the small frown on his lips told you otherwise. He was aware of your own boundaries, but at times like these, when he needed you most, your instinct to reach for him, to hold him, triumphed over your murky thoughts. There was mutual trust between you and Vil, two profoundly regardful people. One was observant because he had a keen eye for details and all things beautiful. The other was observant because she was wary of the opinions of others.

Vil turned away from you as you let your dress and undergarments fall to the ground. His eyes were closed when you climbed into the tub.

“You never have to push yourself for my sake, Fairest,” Vil said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your back closer to his chest.

“I don’t mind if it’s for you. I will tell you when I can’t do something, I promise.”

“You better,” he sighed.

You turned around and cupped his cheeks, “What about you? Are you alright? You’ve been so stiff ever since we left.”

You scooped some soap suds onto his hair, lathering and combing though his silky locks while you waited for him to formulate the right words.

“Fairest, do you think I am more than my appearance?”

You stopped mid-caress and nodded. His looks were always a touchy subject. Vil had a severe case of type-casting, a situation where he was only casted for roles with “beautiful” as the main attribute of the character. At first, he was content with them, but as time went on, he felt defined by his appearance. His hard work was futile in an industry that valued beauty over effort. Comments such as “you only got to where you are now because of your face” was a stab in the heart for Vil. He often sought out you or Rook for comfort. It came to the point where Vil frequently declined callbacks.

He continued, “No matter how much I talked to others about my role in the film or attempted to make more connections to those in the industry, they would always comment on my ensemble first. Sometimes they comment on how I look and nothing more.”

“So you feel invalidated for your efforts?”

“Yes, I feel like none of the work I put into getting where I am now. I feel like all I had to do was look pretty and everything will be handed to me… just like Neige. I want to be as pretty as him. I want to be as popular as him. I want to be recognized for my skills and get casted for the best roles. Not superficial ones. I want… I want....”

You embraced him as he choked on his own words.

“This is hypocritical since it’s coming from me, but you should never compare yourself or your efforts or progress to anyone else. You are enough as you are, at your own pace.”

His arms engulfed you. He kissed you, intertwining his tongue with yours.

“I’m sorry,” Vil said, pulling away.

“I’m sorry too.”

“What did I tell you about saying sorry for something that’s out of your control?”

“But you’re apologizing too,” you laughed.

He snorted.

“But I do feel guilty for leaving you alone though. Maybe I could have said something for your sake. I feel even worse since it was your birthday.”

“We’re both pathetic in that regard.”

You scooped water onto Vil’s head. He did the same for you. You looked him into the eyes before averting your gaze. They were as intense as ever.

“I accept your apology though. In turn, you should accept mine.”

“I can’t. Sorry, Vil. You told me that I should never apologize for how I feel. Neither should you.”

“But I don’t have anxi–”

“You don’t have to have anxiety or anything to have a bad mental health day. You don’t have to have anxiety or anything to feel insecure or worthless. Those feelings are valid for anyone”

“You do have a point there,” Vil said as he tousled his hair.

“I have something for you. It may not be your birthday anymore,” you glanced at the clock, “but we haven’t slept yet so in my mind the day isn’t over yet.”

“What kind of logic is that?”

“Does it still feel like a ninth of April to you?”

“Yes, but technically it’s not.”

“Think of it as a feeling then,” you said and climbed out of the tub.

Vil assisted you in the process and got towels for you both. He languidly dried your hair. His touch was soft like a ghost’s embosom. You could barely feel his touch. Then, he waltzed over to his dresser and gave you one of his silk pajama tops. While he was getting dressed, you grabbed your gift for him, sitting on the edge of the mattress waiting for him.

Shortly after, he plopped down on the bed. The pillows bounced on impact. You held the gift bag over his chest. He looked up at you then at the bag. Sitting up, he opened it.

“Well?”

Your lover tore through the tissue paper, revealing a small box wrapped in brown wrapping paper, red ribbon and twine. His eyes sparkled like a child on Christmas Day.

He read the present tag aloud: “‘To my darling: Vil Schoenheit. Happy birthday.’”

He undid the bow, careful not to ruin the label. He found the edges of the wrapping paper and picked off the tape piece by piece and discarded it on the ground. It fell with grace. Vil lifted the lid of the box.

“A book?”

“Open it.”

Granted, you were more nervous than he was. Would he like it? Today was not his day. You hoped to make him feel better. If he didn’t like it in the slightest, you wouldn’t know how to feel. You wanted to see him smile. It was his birthday. He did not deserve to feel insecure because of soirée guests. He did not deserve to feel so small when he was your world. In fact, he deserved the world for all that he was. He worked too hard not to. His efforts deserved to be paid off. Perhaps not every day, but for his birthday, he should have. It was his day.

Vil obliged, turning to the title page.

“Eighteen things I love about you,” he read.

You leaned over his shoulder.

“Did you honestly write an essay about your love for me?”

“No,” you said, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “Just look.”

“I jest, Fairest.”

Vil licked his finger and turned the page.

“Ah. A scrapbook? Let’s see… ‘Number one: I love how—”

You put a hand over his mouth, “It’s embarrassing if you read it out loud.”

“I think it’s endearing. Besides, I live for your flushed face.”

You whined and he let out a laugh.

“I’ll spare you. I’ll only read the first one aloud.”

“That’s fair,” you mumbled.

“I hope it is. Anyhow… ‘Number one: I love how you carry yourself with utmost respect. I love how you know your worth. I love how angry you are when you are undermined– because you know you are worth more than what the current situation offers. Your confidence is contagious as it inspires me to acknowledge my own worth, to be bolder and seek opportunities that are on par to my own capabilities.’”

He paused.

“What?” you asked.

“I like how you included a photo of us as freshman potatoes,” he said, running his fingers over the image as if he was wiping away dust.

“You always were always like a star to me, ever since we first met. It was hard to start off this scrapbook without referencing that.”

You twirled the ends of your hair.

“I’m glad that you see me in such a way.”

His voice was so soft, inaudible even.

“Vil?”

No response. He flipped the book to page two. Then to page three and so forth. He was still. His chest did not rise and fall each breath. He didn’t even blink. He stopped at the last page. It read: “I love you. You as a whole– the person you present to the crowd and the person you present to a select few. I love you for every flaw and insecurity. I love and accept you in the same way you love and accept me and more. I promise to love you forevermore– no shunning, no judging, just staying by your side and watching you grow into a person I fall in love with more and more every day.”

He pushed you down onto the bed and kissed you, dropping the book onto the ground.

“V-Vil…”

A sense of déjà vu washed over you.

He was vulnerable. He knew, you knew. His lips were quivering and his eyes were glossy. But did he like it? You tried so hard not to say that you liked him because of his looks. That was a touchy subject for him. Did that last one come off as too cheesy? You were told you were quite sappy on top of having an ability with words but still…

“What are you doing writing a bunch of wedding vows, you sweet potato?” Vil muttered as he cuddled you.

“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that. We’re barely a month into this relationship so that’s out of the question. I’m pretty sure we’re still in our honeymoon phase too. But that’s how I feel right now. So… What if I wrote a bunch of wedding vows to you? What of it?”

You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Hopefully, he didn’t find your sudden confession cringe-worthy.

“I never said it was bad... I feel the same.”

He let the last part of his sentence trail off into silence.

“Do you feel better now?”

Was that out of place? Did that kill the mood? What if you soured his mood?

“Much better, thank you. I appreciate it and… I love you too. I know I don’t say it a lot, but I think you know that already.”

“I do.”

He peppered your face with kisses. Some were on your lips, Others were on your cheeks and forehead and occasionally trailed down your jawline.

“I also have something else for you,” you spoke up, pushing him off of you so you could grab another bag that you left by the foot of his bed.

“You spoil me, Fairest.”

“It’s not much. Just a cake I made for you.”

“A whole cake?”

“A cupcake, I mean. I know you’re not one for sweets.”

“And you left it in my room with no refrigeration.”

You pointed to the ice pack. He nodded. You pulled out a cake box, propping it open on Vil’s hands and told him to hold still. You placed a candle in the center and lit with a little spark of fire magic.

“Make a wish~”

“What am I? Twelve?”

“You have to make a wish.”

“Fine,” he said as he blew out the taper, “I wish to be with you for as long as possible.”

“You can’t say your wish out loud. It won’t come true!”

“Do you have any intention of separating from me?”

“N-No.”

“I don’t see why my wish won’t come true then,” Vil said as he cut the cupcake in half, handing you a piece.

“I guess you’re right about that.”

“Careful. If you get crumbs on my bed, you’re sleeping in the spare room.”

“...Understood.”

[ Present Day, Pomefiore Hallway ]

One moment he was dolling you up, the next he was wrapping a blindfold around your eyes and led you down the hallway to god knows where. You were still walking straight so you only assumed that you were still in the Pomefiore dormitories. Unless you walked through a mirror. Or maybe you simply had a terrible sense of direction. Whatever the case was, it did not change the fact that you were trembling.

“Vil. Where are you taking me?”

He exhaled. You could hear his chest heave.

“Darling, are you scared?”

Like how you could read him like an open book, he knew you like the back of his hand. You nodded and you felt him undo the blindfold. He held the ribbon in his hand and yours in the other. You looked into his eyes for comfort. He was wearing a single French braid. It was nostalgic. It was like you were first years again. He wasn’t wearing a school uniform, but it was enough to stir up fond memories. Instead, Vil wore a casual ensemble with a kimono-esque silhouette. He wore a white dress shirt with a pair of shapeless, high-waisted black dress pants. A cardigan with an ornate pattern accentuated the look, He wasn’t wearing the barrette you made him for his sixteenth birthday either, but you felt nostalgic regardless.

“I still need you to close your eyes for me though,” he said, putting the hand with the ribbon over your eyes, “I know you’re scared, but please hold on for a little longer.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. You felt his hand leaving your face, but the other was holding yours tightly, guiding you to your destination.

“Fairest, are your eyes actually closed?” Vil asked, breaking the silence.

“Y-Yes.”

You had been walking for a few minutes now. Where was he taking you?

“Vil, do you know what today is?”

No response.

“Vil… You’re scaring me.”

“We’re almost there, don't worry.”

Would it hurt to trust him for a little bit? You trailed behind him aimlessly. Your steps lagged behind his.

“You ready?” he asked, cupping his lanky fingers over your eyes.

You nodded. Whatever could it be? Lacking sight made Anxiety rattle against your skull. Was Vil going to push you off a cliff? Send you to your doom? No, no, no. He wouldn’t. That was too extreme, (y/n). Calm down.

He lifted his fingers off of your eyes, whispering a faint “happy birthday” to you. You gasped. Pomefiore lounge decorated with streamers and balloons– color coordinated to match both the dorm’s interior as well as your favorite colors. Rose petals were sprinkled on the ground. You heard Vil step away from you. You jumped as you heard something pop and turned around to find the source. Before you could react, a swarm of confetti went your way followed by a loud “surprise!”

You blinked twice, pulling bits of paper out of your hair.. You stepped forward and spun your heel. Were you dreaming?

“Hey, are you crying? I forbid you from crying. Your mascara is going to smear. Stop touching your face,” Vil scolded, running to your side, whipping out a handkerchief to pat your tears dry.

He had no confetti on his person. He was pristine.

“Vil… it’s wonderful. Thank you. I’m so glad you didn’t forget.”

“How could I forget? You must give me more credit, Fairest. I may not have the time to be with you every day, but I’m not cruel as to forgot your birthday,” he huffed, pulling you into a hug.

He was right. He could have never forgotten. Was he mad that you doubted him? He didn’t seem irritated. It wasn’t like him to forget such an important date. You’ll give him credit for being a good actor; he fooled you well. He ignored you for almost two weeks. Whenever you brought up your birthday, he brushed over it and changed the subject. You were on edge the entire time. A weight was lifted off your chest.

“I know you’re not one for parties, but I figured I’d go all out for a small group of people you are comfortable with. You’re seventeen now. Rejoice, my dear.”

You pecked his lips, “This is fine. Thank you so much.”

Snap!

“Cute~ Hashtag: Vil-Did-Not-Forget. Hashtag: (y/n)’s-Growth Record. Hashtag: (y/n)-And-Vil-Forever. Hashtag: Birthday. And posted! Happy birthday, (y/n)-chan~”

“Ah. Thank you, Cay-kun.”

“Did you have to do that?” your lover asked, hands on his hip.

“It’s fine, Vil.”

He nodded. You hoped he wouldn’t bicker too much with Leona as the upperclassman was lounging a bit too close to the throne for [Vil’s] comfort. You sighed as he went to the refreshments table.

“You’ve grown for much,” Cater said with crocodile tears, hugging you.

“I’m still the same height.”

“I didn’t mean that, silly.”

“What did you mean then?”

“Nothing, much. You just look happier. Anyways, here’s your present. Continue to blossom, m’kay?”

You took the gift: “Alright?”

“Cater. Mind your manners. You’re being rude. According to the–,” a voice called.

“I don’t think I am, right, (y/n)? Tell Riddle for me~” he pouted.

His eyes widened as the complexion of Heartslabyul’s prefect grew as red as his hair.

“Hey now. Let’s not fight,” Trey, the vice prefect, hurried over to pat Riddle’s back.

You sighed, “There’s nothing to worry about, Riddle.”

You could have sworn you saw a vein deflate on his forehead as he mumbled something about the rules. He handed you a bouquet of roses.

“Happy birthday, (y/n).”

“Let’s take a Heartslabyul selfie to celebrate! Say cheese!”

No one said cheese. The flash flickered before your eyes as you held the flowers close to your nose. Riddle’s eyebrows were scrunched together. He was socially awkward in that aspect.

“Hashtag: Heartsla…”

Cater’s words faded. Since when have you been comfortable taking pictures with him. It was nice. You felt pretty today. Was it because Vil dolled you up to a T? You hugged the bouquet closer to your chest as you walked towards the refreshments table.

“Oi. Herbivore. Watch the tail,” an all too familiar voice groaned.

“Good afternoon to you too, Leona.”

“Here’s your present.”

He handed you a small box and he waved you goodbye. Was he not going to stay? You watched his back get smaller and smaller as he walked out of the Pomefiore Lounge. He wasn’t big on parties either. That was alright.

You continued the refreshments, stopping occasionally and accumulating presents here and there, engaging in idle chatter. Soon, your arms were full of trinkets and parcels. You panted as you set the gifts onto a spare table.

“You’re quite the attraction,” Vil said, sipping on a glass of apple cider.

“I don’t really think I’m–”

“Own it for a day, will you? You look absolutely divine.”

“Thank you, Vil.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “My pleasure, Fairest.”

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