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#a couple of hours ago i could’ve convinced myself i was normal now it’s like oh no no no
munamania · 28 days
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am i cursed to forever be deceptively a little sick. a wee bit off. when does it end
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wandaromanova · 3 years
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Can u do a fic where fem!reader and Nat are broken up and they’re pretty hostile with each other but when one of them gets hurt on a mission they realize they’re still in love and get back together thank u if u write this :)))))))
I Love You
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cussing, violence, that’s it i believe
A/N: hi! i hit 300 followers! i posted my very first story 3 weeks ago and only had like 10 followers then. i can’t even begin to express how grateful i am that i’ve been able to bring people joy (or pain lol) with my stories. thank you. not proofread. <3
Summary: Ex-lovers Natasha and Y/N dance around their feelings for each other. They decide that hostility was the best course of action.
Word Count: 2.5K
(gif is not mine)
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You and Natasha dated for a year and a half before you guys decided to call it quits. It was a mutual agreement, but there was still some sort of bad blood between the both of you that was painfully obvious. The tension could be cut with a knife.
You guys were going great at first. You both understood each other on a level that no one else could. You would do typical couple things in order to compensate for the lack of stability and domesticity you’ve both had in your lives. Movie nights, designated date nights, cuddle sessions in the late hours of the night, and literally every other cliche there was in the book.
However, you and Natasha were both raised in similar environments. From young ages, you guys were trained to conceal your true emotions and that love was for children. So, communicating with one another was something that the both of you didn’t know how to do.
You didn’t try to communicate and neither did she; and there lied the problem. Natasha would absolutely freak on you if you so much as looked at another person. You would get upset if Natasha went on a mission without informing you first. There were so many pointless arguments that occurred between you and Natasha. Arguments that could’ve been avoided or solved if you guys were able to just talk to each other.
You would say that you guys did talk… just in a higher volume than normal conversation. The yelling between you both could be heard throughout the compound. Most times, you would get so fed up and tired from the arguing, that you didn’t even know why you guys were fighting anymore. It wasn’t healthy and you knew it.
You and Natasha never once told each other the big three words. That was a line neither of you dared to cross. Like the Red Room and The Academy taught you both, love was a weakness and was nothing more than a concept believed by children. You’d like to think that actions spoke louder than words, though.
You could feel the love between you both in the way you would hold onto one another after a mission had gone wrong. You could feel it in the way Natasha worried and panicked when you’d come back from a mission with so much as a scratch above your eyebrow. However, you still could not bring yourself to tell her how you felt. Not that it would matter now, considering you guys had broken up.
It’s been five months since the breakup, and at first your plan of action was to be civil with your ex-girlfriend, but she had other plans. Natasha would bark out snarky remarks whenever you would speak up during team meetings. She began to give you cold glares whenever you walked into a room. God forbid you would even breathe in her direction, she would storm out of a room at the speed of light if you did so.
So, you began to act the same way she was. Okay, yes, it was extremely childish thinking. You should be mature, regardless of how Natasha was treating you, but you couldn’t be civil anymore. So you would treat her just as harshly as she did you. You’d send her sharper glares than she would give you. You’d never listen to anything she had to add during mission meetings, being sure to make it obvious you weren’t paying attention. And you would always counter her hostile comments that were directed towards you.
The team was currently sat in a meeting. You and Natasha were meant to be sent on a mission together, to which you both immediately objected.
“Steve, do I really have to go with that over there? I’d rather go myself and risk dying than go with her.” Natasha pointed in your direction and you were immediately offended by her statement.
“No, I would rather go and die than have to hear one more word out of your god damn mouth. You’re such a bitch.” You spoke as you stood up from your seat, Natasha following suit. Natasha walked across the room and stopped in front of you. She harshly shoved a finger against your chest.
“What the fuck did you just call me? You better take it back before I make sure you never talk again.” Natasha glared at you intensely as she stared into your eyes. You returned her stare with a bored expression on your face.
“I said you’re a bitch. What are you going to do about it, Widow?” You asked her challengingly. Natasha moved to pounce on you, but Bucky, who was sitting next to your spot, sprung in and intervened.
“Let her go Barnes. I’d love to kick her ass.” You smirked as your words only enraged Natasha more. She struggled against Bucky’s grip, trying to free herself so she could pound your face into the floor, but she couldn’t break free.
“Okay! Enough. Natasha, you’re off the mission. Y/N, you’re with me. We leave in 10.” Steve spoke with conviction in his voice, fed up with the pair of you. Natasha stopped resisting Bucky’s hold as he slowly let her go. You looked at her with one harsh glare before you took the mission file that was on the table and walked out of the room. As you left, everyone in the room stared at Natasha. She huffed and stormed out of the room as well.
•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•
You and Steve were currently staked out in a van. You guys were spying on one of the leaders of Hydra and an infamous weapons dealer. The man was currently having a lunch with the dealer. You had been sitting there together for about an hour. You were bored out of your mind and pissed that you couldn’t get Natasha out of your mind. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for thinking about how hot she looked when she pissed. The way her eyes would widen, showing off more of her green irises as her eyebrows furrowed together in anger. The way her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths. God, she had such nice boobs.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Fury’s voice coming in through comms. “Okay, we evacuated civilians off of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Remember, wait until they’re in front of the alley before you attack. They may have weapons.” Fury informed you both and you looked onto the monitor to confirm the empty street. Sure enough, there wasn’t a civilian in sight; good.
Steve replied with a quick “okay” before movement from the door of the restaurant caught your attention. “Steve, there they are. Move out, now.” You spoke as you loaded your gun and attached it to your hip. You and Steve jumped out of the van. Steve threw his shield and hit both of the men with it. His shield came back to him as if ricocheted off of the men.
Your gun was pointed at the both of them as you guys approached them. “Meeting in broad daylight? Doesn’t seem like a smart move for two supposedly genius people.” You spoke as Steve searched the two men for any weapons. They didn’t have any. That should’ve been a red flag, but you weren’t in the right state of mind right now.
Suddenly, another van pulled up in front of the alleyway, right behind the vehicle you both had just exited. Hydra Agents with semi-automatic guns filed out of the van. Fuck. You guys were set up. Steve shared a look with you before he threw his shield toward the men and knocked the guns out of a few of the agent’s hands.
You began to fire towards the men with your own gun. You shot them in the shoulders, sending them flying to the ground in pain. You and Steve made quick work of the men and soon enough, there were unconscious men littered across the floor.
You and Steve turned back to the two men you had previously captured as they laid on the floor in shock. They really thought their little stunt would work? Pathetic. Unfortunately, one of the Hydra agents was still conscious. You and Steve failed to notice the movement behind your backs. The man pointed a nearby gun at you and fired 5 shots at you. He missed three of them, but managed to land two into your abdomen.
You fell to the ground as Steve whipped around and actually knocked the man unconscious this time. “Fury, we need backup! L/N is down!” He spoke frantically into comms as he applied pressure to your wounds. Your eyes were open in shock as you tried to process what just happened. You were shot. It really did hurt like a bitch. What are those black spots? God, I want Natasha right now. Wait, what? No, it’s just the blood loss talking.
You fell unconscious as soon as the backup S.H.I.E.L.D agents appeared on the scene. You were rushed back to the Avengers Compound in one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s vehicles, Steve following you after ensuring the two men were detained. As soon as the car made it to the compound, your unconscious body was placed onto a gurney and you were being rushed to the medical wing.
As your body was being rolled through the halls of the compound, you were pushed by the doctors past Natasha. She did a double take and quickly turned around to confirm what she had just saw. Her heart sunk to her stomach at the sight of your limp, blood-covered body. She ran after you without a second thought, fear and dread taking over.
Natasha tried to enter the medical wing where they had just taken you, but she was stopped by a strong hand abruptly placing itself onto her shoulder. “Nat, we need to let them take care of her. We’d only be disturbing them and we need their focus to 100% be on Y/N.” Steve said in an attempt to convince the redhead to stop her plan of barging into the room like a madwoman. Natasha took one last glance at the door before she heavily sighed and walked to the wall across the door. She slid her back slowly against the wall and placed her head in her hands.
“What happened, Rogers?” Natasha asked, afraid of hearing the answer. Steve went over the events of the mission, and all Natasha could think was that she should’ve been there with you. She would’ve jumped in front of that bullet to save you in a heartbeat because she loved you. Wait. She loved you? Holy fuck! She loved you!
Natasha’s heart rate increased rapidly at her self revelation. She has loved you this entire time. God, she was so fucking blind. How could she not see what was right in front of her? She was madly in love with you. She let the things the Red Room drilled into her affect your relationship. Now, she wasn’t sure if she’d have the opportunity to make it up to you. That thought scared Natasha more than any mission ever could.
•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•
1 hour later
An hour later, and the entire team was sprawled across the hallway of the medical wing. Wanda sat beside Natasha on the floor, comfortingly holding her hand. The rest of the team just stood, anxiously and impatiently waiting to hear about your status.
At the sound of the medical bay door opening, Natasha shot up from her spot on the floor and looked towards Helen Cho. “What’s her status? Is she okay? Did she make it?” Natasha immediately fired off questions at the Doctor. The team stood firmly behind Natasha as they looked at Dr. Cho, their eyes asking her the same questions Natasha did.
“She coded on the table a few times. The bullets hit some major arteries, but we managed to stop the bleeding. If she had arrived even a minute later than she did, she wouldn’t have made it.” The relief of the good news radiated off of earth’s mightiest heroes. Natasha almost let tears escape her eyes, but quickly blinked them back.
“Can I see her?” Natasha asked desperately. “Yes you can, but shes still asleep. The anesthesia was very strong so she’ll be out for a few more hours.” Helen spoke as she opened the door for Natasha. She entered and let out a sigh of relief as she caught sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. Natasha grabbed a nearby chair and placed it right beside your bed. She lightly stroked your hair before she gripped your hand.
•❅────────✧❅✦❅✧─────────❅•
3 hours later
You groaned as you slowly open your eyes and were met with an obnoxiously bright light hovering over you. You heard some shuffling before the light was shut off. You turned your head towards the other person in the room and you rolled your eyes at who it was.
“If you’re here to be an asshole, please leave. I’m not in the mood for it.” You spoke as you watched Natasha sit back down in the chair next to your bed.
“I’m not here for that. I wanted to apologize, Y/N. You were right, I was a bitch. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, but I was just afraid.” Natasha began to speak as she seemingly appeared nervous. You’ve never seen her nervous before, you’re pretty sure no one ever has.
“I was so terrified because I love you. Everyone I love ends up leaving me, and I couldn’t watch you leave me. So, I thought it was best if I beat you to the punch.” Natasha looked down to her lap and played with her fingers absentmindedly. Your eyes widened as far as they could go at Natasha’s words. She loved you. She actually, verbally said it. That’s a huge fucking deal.
“I know my logic may not make the best sense, but what does make sense is the fact that I love you. I always have and I was just too stupid to tell you. I’m sorry, I love you so much.” Natasha spoke as she tore her gaze from her hands and up to your eyes.
You reached your hand out for hers and she shakily took your hand in hers. You almost let out a gasp at the contact, you missed her touch so much. “I won’t ever leave you, Natasha because I love you too. I’m sorry too. I was just as afraid as you were. We were both stupid.” You let out a little laugh at your last words. Natasha let out a chuckle as a tear fell from her eyes. Oh god, you’ve never seen her cry either.
“You scared me. I thought you weren’t going to make it. When I saw your body being wheeled down here…. all the blood… I-“ Natasha words were cut off as you smashed your lips against hers. You winced as the pain from your gunshot wounds radiated across your body, but you couldn’t care less about that right now. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that the woman you loved, loved you too. You’d never be afraid to express your love for her ever again.
───────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────────
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sentinelpri · 3 years
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Feverish
You were surprised to have been called to the med bay a little bit past nine in the evening, woken up by your phone ringing and Ratchet on the other end. You clutched your robe close to your body as you raced through the hallway, sleep in your eyes and worries in your head.
The lead medic had given you no explanation, only telling you to come meet him outside of the med bay as soon as you could before he hung up on you.
You wondered if it was an emergency, if someone was injured or dying, if something had happened during patrol- Wait, no. Their night patrols didn’t start for another hour or so, and if it had been an emergency, someone like Bumblebee or Optimus would’ve called you in a panic.
Still, the whole situation was weird, and you were worried, so when you saw Ratchet outside of the med bay leaning against one of the walls, you immediately approached him with your concern etched in your features. 
Upon seeing you, Ratchet stood up straight, then put a strong servo on your shoulder in a reassuring manner before looking down at you. His pale blue optics burned into your (e/c) eyes, and though you tried your best, you couldn’t read his expression.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the medic spoke.
“Optimus Prime has fallen ill.”
“What?” You immediately sputtered, and your eyes flew to the door of the med bay; closed, you couldn’t even see Optimus. You just prayed that he was okay. In the time that you’d known the Prime and his team, you’d seen him injured or sick plenty, though the former was much more common. He never prioritized his own health and tried to push himself to do things, even when he was unwell, so he took forever to recover... Hopefully it wasn’t something severe. “How bad is it? Is he awake? Have you told the team yet?”
“Hey, hey, slow down. It’s nothing crazy, (y/n), so don’t worry,” Ratchet’s words, said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone, soothed you, if only a little. If it were serious or ‘crazy’ as he put it, he would’ve told you directly instead of lying, so you believed him. “This morning, I was the first to wake and go into the kitchen to make myself an energy booster when I saw him stumble in... As in, he was literally stumbling over himself and I could see steam rolling off of him from overheat. He insisted he was fine, but something was off, so I dragged him to the medbay for testing. He’s low on energon and coolant, he was overheating, and there was a minor glitch in his vents from some battle damage that I had to fix. He’s recovering fine, but my main concern is that his chassis seems to be overheating to kill an infection. I think it’s just your run-of-the-mill space bug based on the labs I did, so I gave him some antibiotics.”
“You didn’t answer some of my questions-” You started, now concerned with whether you could actually go and see Optimus or not.
It wasn’t uncommon for the red and blue bot to ignore his own needs, but for him to have ignored symptoms that could’ve turned into something much worse had Ratchet not caught them... You wondered if there was something bothering Optimus that was making him neglect himself, more than he usually would.
“So demanding, you youngin’s,” Ratchet huffed and rolled his optics at you. “It’s not that bad, he’s awake, and no, I haven’t told the others yet. Our nightly patrol is soon and I have to break the news to them somehow, which is why I called you here. You can’t go with us anyway and they need me since we’re down one bot, so I want you to stay with Prime. He responds the best to you...” You blinked and then blushed at that, (s/c) cheeks burning bright. It was true that you and Optimus were close, but for Ratchet to acknowledge it like that... Well, you were flattered. You’d loved Optimus for as long as you could remember, and even though Ratchet surely meant that in a platonic way, it was nice to know that the effort you put into your relationship with the bot meant something. “His condition isn’t from a decline in his physical health- I had to pry like hell to find out what it was, but Prime finally broke and told me that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten an energon cube or ran a self-evaluation to make sure he was functioning properly, which is why he’s energy-depleted and why the damage to his vents went unchecked. He’s so stressed from the leadership that this team needs that he isn’t taking care of himself anymore, and now, it’s led to him falling sick again. I think there’s something else going on in that processor of his, too, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else... I just know it’s more mental than anything.”
You stopped, frowning. What else could Optimus be hiding from everyone? Was he doing something dangerous? Had something happened? Was he breaking down from stress?
“O-Oh.. Okay,” You mumbled and leaned into the servo of Ratchet’s that was on your shoulder, sighing when he ran his thumb over a sore spot on the groove between said shoulder and your collar. The two of you had developed a close bond over the past couple years since they’d been on earth, with you, Sari’s tutor and caretaker, also acting as a second medic for the team with Ratchet’s training. While he’d trained you in how to care for the Autobots, you’d given him the basics of human anatomy and medical care, so with that time spent together, you were close- whether the old grump admitted it or not. “What about his medicine? How often does he take it? Is there anything else I need to do?”
“One pill every six human hours, they’re the white gel capsules that are rationed out on the table by Prime’s med-berth. I just gave him a dose, so don’t get him another one until three in the morning. He also needs to drink plenty of energon, coolant, and lubricant to get better, so make him do it, even if he gets pissy with you- shove it down his throat if you have to... But those are all things that I already told him, and he’s fully capable of taking care of himself. I don’t need you in there to take care of him so much as I need you to stay in there to make sure he doesn’t get up and do anything stupid. You know how he gets when he’s sick.”
“Unfortunately, I do...” You let out a long sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. It was going to be hard dealing with Optimus- hell, you could already imagine how he would be trying to sneak out of the med bay to go on patrol or trying to make you bring paperwork for him to do. You wouldn’t allow either, but considering how much larger he was than you, you’d have to convince him to relax instead of just being able to hold his aft down like Ratchet or Bulkhead could. “I’ll make sure he stays put. I’m assuming you’re taking over leadership until he recovers, Ratchet?”
“As the team medic, I’m second in command, so yeah... I have to. I’d let Prowl do it, but Primus knows he doesn’t want to, and I wouldn’t let Bumblebee or Bulkhead within a ten mile radius of any form of responsibility like this. I’m really the only option.”
“Right...” You imagined what a patrol without Optimus, led by a stressed and grouchy Ratchet would be like, and then cringed. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
With that, Ratchet withdrew his servo from your shoulder and waved at you before turning around and walking down the hallway. You figured that Optimus shouldn’t be left alone for too long, so you quickly entered the med bay and shut the door behind you.
It was dark, with a small night light plugged into the walls that illuminated the room just a bit. You could see Optimus, who looked uncharacteristically pathetic, weakly laying on a med berth with a small side table on the ground next to him. On the table were some energon sticks, a cup of coolant, and the white pills that Ratchet had mentioned. 
“(y/n), is that you?” Optimus asked, trying to sit up, but immediately groaning in what you assumed was pain and flopping back down. His eyes squeezed shut, a strained grimace taking over his face-plates. You pulled one of the stools by a wall-counter to the side of the room where Optimus’s berth was and put it right by his side table so you could sit by him. You were close to his face, so you leaned down to look at it as his optics slowly opened back.
He was sick, and it would take at least a few days if not a week to recover; you could tell just by looking at him. His ocean-hued optics were abnormally dark and foggy, his powder blue faceplates were stained dark with heat, and though he wasn’t steaming like Ratchet had described this morning, there was definitely still heat radiating from his frame.
“Yes, Optimus, it’s me... I’m here to watch over you,” You leaned in to kiss the top of his helm, able to feel just how hot the metal felt against you. When you pulled back, you frowned at the absurd amount of heat- almost hot enough to make your lips sting, while Optimus’s normal temperature was a bit cooler than that of an average human’s by a degree or two. “Ratchet called me down here and told me what’s going on a bit ago. The team’s on patrol right now.”
“Slag, I can’t believe Ratchet told you,” Optimus groaned again, this time in annoyance instead of pain. “I told him not to earlier when he was fixing my vents... He’s probably going to tell the rest of the team, too. I have to get up and go supervise the patrol-” He forced himself to sit up this time, forced back a wince, forced his optics to open fully, but the second you pressed a rushed hand to his chest plates and attempted to push him back, he froze.
“Oh, no you don’t!” You argued, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as a pout formed on your face. 
“Oh, yes I do!” The Autobot argued back without hesitation, but didn’t actually move to push your hand away or leave even though he was fully capable of doing so, only resting one of his servos on the one of yours that was on his chest- stumbling and overheating or not, he was much larger and much stronger than you. Then again, he probably knew that Ratchet would beat him to a pulp the second he recovered if he dared lay a single digit on you to escape the med bay. “As much as I appreciate the concern, I don’t want it nor do I need it, and I certainly don’t want it from my team. It’s bad enough that you know. I know they’ll start asking questions when I don’t go on patrol with them, and if they hear that I got sick from overexerting myself and not getting enough rest and energon, they’ll never let me hear the end of it-”
“Well, maybe that’s what you need, so lay your stubborn ass down! I did not come here with my hair all fucked up and in this stupid robe in the middle of the night when I could’ve been sleeping just to have you run away from me when I’m trying to take care of you! You getting up right now just drives home how bad you are about prioritizing yourself,” Optimus’s plump and normally soft lips, now chapped from dehydration, pulled together into a tight frown- it was the face he made when he knew he was in the wrong. “You’re getting out of your bed when you’re supposed to be resting so you can go lie to your team and tell them you’re fine when you’re not, and for what? Your pride?”
“No, I just don’t want them to worry for me. I’m already stressed out enough and the last thing I need is for that to contribute to their struggles. They’re all dealing with so many of their own problems, and I’m sick of being a burden to everyone around me...”
Optimus huffed, but gave up and laid back down, much to your relief. He still held your hand, though, and you let him- even if he was sick, you didn’t want him to let go.
“You’re not a burden, and just like how they’re dealing with their problems, you’re dealing with yours. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved and respected, and not to insult your acting skills, but... They won’t believe you if you walk out there overheating and struggling to stay standing to tell them that you’re perfectly fine. Ratchet told me how you were stumbling around this morning.”
“I hate that you’re right,” He mumbled, and you wondered why he always had to be so childish when he was sick. 
Then again, as much as you hated Optimus’s stubborn personality, it was a major component of who you’d gone and fallen in love with all that time ago. It was crazy, you thought; just the extent that you loved Optimus Prime to, and how terribly unaware he was of it. You thought it best to keep the fact hidden, as you didn’t know what his feelings were, and he had so much on his plate already... It hurt to think that he didn’t know how loved he was- not just by you, but by everyone around him, who he was always bending over backwards for, completely unaware that they’d do the exact same for him.
“And I hate that you treat yourself like this. Plus, as much as Ratchet threatens us all with consequences for our actions, he’s not going to tell them what’s going on in depth; just that you have a fever and that you’re resting, you know he respects patient confidentiality. He’ll probably even downplay it because he knows that’s what’ll make you happy.”
“No, you’re just trying to reassure me, but...” Optimus paused and let go of your hand, fully settling back into the berth. You took your hand back and looked off to the side, already missing his touch. “I know you want to, and that Ratchet probably told you to spend the night here and take care of me, but I’m alright now. I’ll stay and rest, I promise. You can go to your room to sleep, I know you’re usually not up this late, and I’d hate to keep you up with my problems.”
You didn’t really want to leave him, but you were tired, and you believed his words. His tone was genuine enough.
“Are you sure?” You asked and received a nod in return. So, you stood up and collected yourself. “Okay, if you’re sure... I’ll leave and go get some rest, then come back at three to give you your antibiotics and make sure you’ve got something on your stomach.”
Silence. 
The second you turned around to leave, though, Optimus was grabbing the back of your robe and holding the cloth between his digits, tone low as he spoke again.
“Actually, (y/n), wait... Don’t leave me. I need you.”
You turned back around and looked at him, confused. Hadn’t he just told you seconds before that he was fine and that you should leave to go get some rest so that he could fall into recharge as well? What was with the sudden change of heart? Was there something going on with his physical condition, or was it something else?
“Huh? But Optimus, you said you needed to rest...” You muttered, which earned you a shake of his head in return.
“I will,” Optimus promised. “Please, just stay and don’t question it. I lied to you, I don’t know why, but I can’t be alone right now. Don’t leave me.”
The plead from him was unexpectedly vulnerable, honest, open. You appreciated it, but at the same time, you were concerned about what exactly was going on with him- you felt like there was more to the story than stress and leadership and lack of self-care. While all of that was definitely in character for Optimus Prime, there was something else that he wasn’t telling you about, too. With how close you were to him, it wasn’t abnormal for you to have deeper discussions, but for him to admit that he wanted- no, needed you there with him and couldn’t be alone was something you’d never thought you’d hear in your lifetime.
“Okay, I’ll stay until you tell me to go, then. Thank you for being honest with me.”
With that, you sat back down on the stool and looked at him. A little bit of that light had returned to his optics, but he still seemed like he was in rough shape.
“Thank you.”
Silence again.
Instead of adjusting to get comfortable and slip into recharge, Optimus just sat there with his back against the board of the berth, optics trained on you. It had taken a while to get used to when you’d first met him, but nowadays, you were used to the Prime’s intensity, especially when it came to eye/optic-contact. Still, though, the way he was staring at you now... You couldn’t quite interpret it. Then again, could you usually? Optimus was hard to read sometimes.
“You’re not resting,” You teased, but received a serious response in return.
“I’m thinking, and then I’ll rest.”
“You’re sick, the last thing you need to be doing is overthinking like you always do,” You reached out to him, rested your palm on the side of his face and tenderly ran a thumb over the apex of his cheek. Surprisingly, he leaned into your touch with a smile.
“What if it pertains to you? It’s either I tell you and get my closure, which is daunting, or I sit here overthinking it like I always do.”
You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach and flinched. It had been obvious that something was on his processor, but it had to do with you? What was it? Did it have to do with your feelings? Tense, you talked again.
“...Have I done something? I’d rather you tell me.”
“You’ve made me fall in love with you.”
The words were whispered but still felt so loud, filling the room with their impact in a way that made your cheeks hot and your heart beat hard against your chest.
“Your illness must be making you delusional,” You laughed nervously, but Optimus only gave you a sloppy grin and laughed. You moved your hand to the top of his helm to check his temperature, but it hadn’t changed- as much as you wanted to believe it, you were sure he was being serious and not having feverous hallucinations like you’d initially suspected. Still, you thought it proper to ask. “Do you feel hot? Are you overheating again?”
“No, (y/n), I’m just in love with you,” Optimus peered at you, smile falling a bit. “I mean, yes, I am sick, and I’m still overheating, but I’ve been in love with you for- Ah, I’m actually not sure how long it’s been... I just know it’s been too long.”
There was a pause, in which the two of you seemed to be processing what important things were said; in the span of just a minute or two, Optimus had boldly laid his feelings out for you on the table, unabashed and proud, the tension that came with two years worth of pining that you’d been doing solved so... Quickly. You were surprised you hadn’t felt your jaw hit the floor.
Had he really loved you the whole time? Or was this a recent development? Why was he only telling you now? Had his stress over his feelings for you also contributed to his sickness?
“I’m not sure I can talk about this in good conscience when you’re so vulnerable,” You smiled back at him, (e/c) eyes meeting his ocean-hued optics as you removed your hand from his head. Shyly, he reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “It feels selfish, but... I love you, too, and that’s why I want you to rest and get better, maybe not stress out so much.”
You kissed the back of his servo as he pulled it away, earning what you hoped was a blush and not more symptoms of overheating.
“I’d kiss you if I weren’t afraid of getting you sick,” Optimus sighed. You were sure that you probably couldn’t catch whatever he had going on since he was a Cybertronian and you were human, but you didn’t want to test that theory, so you left it alone.
“It’s okay,” You reached out to hold one of his servos in both of your hands, squeezing reassuringly. “I can feel the sentiment. Just focus on getting better, okay? We have all the time in the world.”
“Sometimes I fear we don’t- Have all the time, I mean, and I suppose that’s why I finally broke down and did this- I like to believe I’m impervious to everything around me, but I’ve already died once, and every time I get sick, I always think about what will happen if I go offline without telling everyone around me just how much they mean. I didn’t want to be scared anymore, not when it came to you.”
“I...” You stood and got on top of the berth so you could sit next to Optimus, curling into his side. “Me, too.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?” The Prime asked and wrapped an arm around you. Gentle. Strong. Warm.
“Would you like me to be?” You asked in return with a tilt of your head.
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll be here,” Optimus looked at you, clearly somewhat doubtful, but you only shook your head with a smile. “I promise, I won’t leave you. Just get some rest, okay?”
“...Okay.”
So, you stayed, and when Ratchet walked in the next morning to see you curled up by Optimus’s side on the berth with your (lip/chap)stick smeared on his servos, both of you sleeping peacefully for once, he couldn’t help but think that Optimus getting sick once in a while wasn’t so bad after all.
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stxrshxpxd · 3 years
Text
professor (part 2) x 90s!damon
part 1
pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader
word count: 2.254
warnings: smut (professor x adult student)
* * *
The next day was calm. I wasn’t in Damon’s class all day, nor did I see him in the halls. The day after that I got an awful headache halfway through the day and missed his lecture. For a minute I began to think that the universe was actively trying to keep us apart after our inappropriate encounter. But then I made it to class the next day and so did he and we were once again in the same room.
He looked even better than normal. He wore his usual dark trousers and belt but this time he had an all black button up. And he looked as if he hadn’t shaved his short stubble since the other day. The biggest difference was that he was wearing a pair of glasses. He had worn them a few times before but they had never looked as sexy as they did now.
It took a while before he dared to look me in the eye, but at last he did in the middle of a speech about J.D. Salinger. His eyes stayed on me for a few seconds and then carried on to look at the other students.
I was still not taking notes. I couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. All I kept wondering was if he was going to deny our interaction or if he was, in fact, constantly thinking about me while he praised his beloved authors.
The lecture inevitably came to an end and I stalled as long as I could folding up my books, watching as the other students left one by one. Once we were left alone Damon turned around and sat on the edge of his desk. We were in the same position we had been a few days ago with similar tension in the air.
I didn’t want to be the first one to speak — I had absolutely no idea what to say — so I sat in silence and mirrored his small smile.
“God,” he sighed in a chuckle, looked around the room swiftly and then let his eyes rest on me again. “There’s no way we can continue doing this, Y/N,” he informed me.
“You sound like you want to,” I said, leaning in over my desk.
He really did. It seemed to pain him to have to decline another round with me.
“It’s not a question of whether I want to or not,” he said. “There’s not even a question,” He corrected himself immediately and walked around his desk. I allowed myself a scan of his body. His broad back, his hips that were tightly hugged by his belt, the modest bulge in his trousers.
“We’re both adults. You’re only a few years older than me. It’s legal.”
“It’s strictly against the university’s code of conduct that a professor sleeps with a student. I could lose my job.”
Damon kept his head lowered and pretended to be busy sorting through papers on his desk. The narcissist in me was taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t willing to jeopardise his career for sex with me, but I shut her down quickly. I understood his situation, of course I did, but I just couldn’t give up without a fight.
“But it’s after hours. And no one has to find out. Doors have locks for a reason.”
Damon laughed at my persistence. He let his head hang low between his shoulders as he propped his body up with his closed fists pressing into the top of the desk. I knew his skinny, yet defined, arms looked so good under his solid black shirt. It drove me insane that I couldn’t see more of his skin.
“Don’t you like my outfit?”
I turned around on my chair so that the side of my leg was facing him. I was wearing a skirt that reached my mid thighs, a pair of white sneakers and a chunky oversized sweater. Damon looked up and stared at my legs for longer than he had probably initially planned. It gave a boost to my ego.
“This comes off like that,” I explained and snapped my fingers, referring to my large sweater. Damon took his eyes off my exposed legs and locked eyes with me, contemplating his decision. I took the opportunity to show him just how swiftly the sweater could be removed, and I pulled it over my head.
“See.”
It laid in front of me on my desk and Damon’s eyes flickered down to look at my thin bra, then at the closed door to his right, then back to my chest, and then up to meet my eyes again.
“Don’t make me beg,” I whined with a pout. A long silence ensued. It was so quiet that I could practically hear his conflicting thoughts. Lust was battling rationality in his mind as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.
“But I like it when you beg,” Damon finally spoke. It was quiet but delivered steadily and wrapped in his silky smooth voice. A tingly feeling, accompanied by a sharp inhale, spread through my abdomen, and I sat upright.
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
Confidence overtook me and I left my seat, made my way over to his desk and was met with slow exhales that hit my face at a regular pace. Damon flexed his jaw continually and stayed still, his closed fists still glued to the top of his desk.
“Please, sir,” I resorted to a whisper. Something primal had taken hold of my brain and was making all my decisions for me.
“I can’t stop thinking about your body. And our.. our bodies together.”
Another long couple of seconds passed of Damon deep in contemplation. A moment later he let his gaze fall to the desk as he relaxed one his fists and patted the smooth wooden surface. That small gesture alone made my mind and body act up in a way I could’ve never anticipated.
I climbed up and sat with my legs folded, my heels digging into the very tops of my back thighs. Finally Damon had caved and given in to his urges, now holding both my cheeks and pressing our lips together. I felt him suck in and hold a deep breath as my fingertips trembled around the buckle of his belt.
People could faintly be heard from outside the classroom, which made everything so much more wrong and so much more exciting.
“I have to lock the door,” Damon said, the first half of the sentence muffled as he was pulling away from the kiss. His belt, half undone, slipped out of my hands as he marched away to the corner of the room.
“Take that skirt off,” he muttered, turning his head back towards me, and he wiped his lips lazily with the base of his thumb. Everything he did left a deep mark in my brain, and I had a few in-depth thoughts about his mouth and thumb and whole hand as I struggled to take my skirt off.
Once off, that mouth and thumb and hand were back again. A wet kiss was placed on my jaw and a steady hold on my waist was established. I returned the favour with an equally wet couple of kisses down his neck and my hands finding their way back to his hips.
Damon’s belt fell to the floor and my bra bands fell down the sides of my arms. Soon after his trousers hit the floor, and my bra was fully off within seconds. I eagerly pushed Damon’s shirt up his torso in an attempt to rid his body of it without unbuttoning it. He laughed quietly at my enthusiasm and grabbed my wrists gently.
“Hold on, love,” he laughed and I sighed in a chuckle as well. My hands settled on his lower stomach for a moment and I accepted a sweet kiss on my lips while Damon swiftly unbuttoned his shirt.
“Go on,” he purred. I opened my eyes to find him shirtless in front of me. A small smile was placed on his soft lips.
I kissed down his chest and stomach and didn’t hesitate much before stripping his underwear off his body.
His breaths grew heavier and louder when suddenly my hand held the base of his cock and my lips hungrily wrapped around his tip. Damon took half a step backwards and held onto the whiteboard behind him.
“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he breathed, trying his best to keep his voice down.
Confidence once again took over everything inside me and I couldn’t help but smirk as I licked a stripe up his growing erection. I caught him between my lips again and hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper in my mouth.
“I think this would be worth losing my job over,” Damon admitted and I laughed momentarily while catching my breath.
“But, god,” Damon sighed, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You’re gonna make me come before you want me to if you keep that up.”
He pushed me back and his right hand fell to my left hip. He let his palm sprawl out across my hip and his thumb began slowly rubbing my clit. He kissed me again and his hot tongue met mine.
“Sir-“ I began begging again — because everything he did only made me more excited for his next move — but he smothered my sentence by kissing me harder. It seemed he, too, was very eager. That beautiful nose of his was pressed into my face now and his glasses grazed my skin.
“Shh,” he whispered, pulling back for a second. When he kissed me again I could feel the wide smirk on his damp lips against mine. Most of all I could feel his extremely skilled thumb still massaging my clit, now having slid under the soft fabric of my underwear.
“I want you completely naked.”
Damon’s whispers sent goosebumps racing up my back and down my limbs. On wobbly legs — and displeased to have his fingers far away from me — I hopped off the desk and shimmied out of my underwear quickly.
I felt my heartbeat in every vein of my body as I kicked my last piece of clothing to the side and eagerly stepped out of my loosely tied sneakers. I visibly let my gaze stick to everything but Damon’s eyes.
His hand reached out to hold mine as he turned both of us around and sat down on his chair, which had been left out of the equation until now. He gave a nod, as if to say “come here”, and I obeyed.
Straddling him, my heartbeat increased further and I was convinced he could hear my pulse at this point. I let a quiet moan out as I sat down and felt his cock begin to fill me up.
“You’re very wet for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered in a whimper and I planted my palms on his chest. It was broad and sturdy and warm. I felt his heart beat persistently against my right hand. It was almost as fast as mine.
An exhale of his name fell from my lips. He instantly made a sound of displeasure and, in the form of a minor punishment, dug his fingertips deep into the flesh on my hips. I thrived off the feeling of him having his way with me.
“Sir!.. Sorry,” I corrected and apologised. Damon’s fingers relaxed a tad but he continuously held a steady grip on my hips as I rocked them back and forth.
“Professor Albarn,” I tried my luck and instantly earned a small grin from him.
“That works,” he purred.
Damon bucked his hips and made me pick up the pace. I gladly did, as the tingly feeling built up inside me. I crashed my forehead into the top of his chair and I tried to contain my sounds, letting them pour right into his ear.
“I know, sweetheart,” Damon murmured in an oddly reassuring, but incredibly sexy, response. His large hand was laid across my back and I instantly felt sweat pearls begin to form under it.
Just as he placed his lips on my neck and sucked a harsh kiss into my skin my body exploded in a prolonged orgasm. I snaked my hands up to gently hold his face and wriggled my head up to rest my forehead against his, as I twitched my way down from my high.
I opened my eyes for the first time in a while and was met with Damon’s gorgeous face. It was hot and the apples of cheeks were tinted red. His glasses had fallen a bit from the root of his nose.
“Fuck,” he cursed and grimaced.
Everything of mine was sensitive and almost hurt, but I wanted to bring him to his edge. And, to be honest, his hushed noises and tensed muscles made me want to continue for hours.
“You’re so- ugh,” he huffed and let another couple curse words out.
Suddenly he half lifted half pushed me off of him and just seconds later came on my lower stomach. He wiped a thin layer of sweat from his left brow and found eye contact with me again. A crooked smile broke out on his face and a beautiful breathy laugh filled the space between us.
“You’re incredibly persuasive,” Damon commented and I laughed as I slid off his lap.
“Any regrets?” I asked in defence.
”None.”
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nanagoswife · 3 years
Text
Please, Don't Go. - Chapter 11
Summary: There's a few moments that Obi-Wan and reader go through with some serious conversations in between.
W/C: 2.5k
Warnings: angst, implied intimacy
- - -
You were pacing nervously. The last you heard was that Qui-Gon was being pursued and Obi-Wan had sprung into action. You knew the ship had lifted off, but you weren’t sure if your other Jedi protector was alright.
So, you were in the usual meeting spot you had with Obi-Wan. You weren’t sure he’d be able to get down here, but you went there all the same. If he wasn’t able to come, then you had some time to think. You would have time to ease your worry.
When you heard the door slide open, you were faced the other way and you paused mid-pace. Turning, you were met by a sight you weren’t expecting. Beside Obi-Wan stood a young boy.
“Anakin, meet Princess Y/N Y/L/N,” Obi-Wan said as he guided the boy further into the room.
“Oh please,” you say before kneeling in front of the boy, “you can call me Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you Anakin.” You reached your hand out and he happily took it and shook it.
The smile on his face was large and bright. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he replied with a bubbly sounding tone.
Without much warning, he hugged you. You didn’t hesitate hugging him back. Whatever it was, you were drawn to this boy. What it was? You couldn’t say.
When Anakin pulled away he smiled, “I like you. You feel welcoming. It’s a nice change from everyone at home.”
“I’m glad you like me because I like you too,” you reply with a boop to his nose with a finger. He giggled and squirmed in the spot he stood as you wiggled your finger against his nose.
As Obi-Wan watched, his heart warmed. He wasn’t surprised you were good with children, but it was different to actually see it. One day, you would be an amazing mother. The thought darkened. If you stayed with him, you wouldn’t have that opportunity. Not unless he wanted to go against The Order even more than he already has.
He snapped back to the moment when he noticed that both you and Anakin were looking up at him. You wore a concerned expression as you clearly saw his smile fade. The look in your eyes told him you wanted to talk. Whether it was because you started having second thoughts before or it was because of seeing him, he knew you just needed to talk.
Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, “Anakin, go find Qui-Gon. If he’s in the cockpit, you should convince him to let you learn how to pilot the ship.”
“Okay!” Anakin’s face immediately brightened as he could hardly contain himself when he practically ran out the door. Obi-Wan closed it behind the boy, leaving you two in privacy once again.
“Is Qui-Gon alright? Are you alright?” you immediately questioned. Your initial worry was the Jedi Knight, but now you were worried about Obi-Wan. What could’ve happened that dropped his smile that quickly.
“Qui-Gon is fine. There is something that we discovered, but I can’t speak of it until we’re sure,” he replied. His voice was low, meaning that he was thinking of a lot more than that.
Taking the few steps, you took away the distance that was between the two of you. You needed to feel his arms around you.
He returned your embrace, but it wasn’t the same. He seemed distant, like he was second guessing what the two of you have. Please, Maker, don’t let it be that Obi-Wan was thinking of ending it.
When you pulled away, you dropped your arms from him and crossed them in front of you, almost like you would when you were sad and trying to gain comfort from yourself, while taking a step back. It pained Obi-Wan to see you distance yourself because of him. He wanted so badly to pull you into him so he could comfort you, but you clearly caught him in his thoughts.
You were the first to break the tense silence, “You want to end it. Don’t you,” you say in a pained whisper as you look at the ground. If he was going to say yes, you couldn’t bear looking into his eyes when he did. You didn’t want to see the sureness he would have in them.
Only, Obi-Wan was taken aback. He never thought that you would think that. His eyes went wide and took a small step towards you, but you only stepped back. You still weren’t looking up, so you couldn’t see his true feelings.
“Of course I’m not, dearest,” he said, reaching his hand out. He was asking silent permission to take your hand in his.
When you didn’t take it, his heart sunk a little.
“Y/N, please, at least look at me,” he pleaded. He wanted you to know he wasn’t leaving you due to the thoughts he actually had often. He did, however, want you to look in his eyes when he finally voiced these worries. Obi-Wan wanted you to know that you weren’t that he was upset, but that he was upset at himself; that he was upset that he may never be able to fulfill all of the usual things couples do.
Slowly, you lifted your eyes to his. It had taken a few moments, but you did. Obi-Wan’s heart shattered when he saw tears in your eyes. It was far from the first time, but it was the first time that he was the cause of them.
“I’m not ending it,” he started, softly. He wanted you to see just how serious he was. “You aren’t the cause of my worries. It’s myself that I’m disappointed in.”
That had gotten your attention, changing your sad countenance to one of confusion, “What do you mean,” you said shakily.
“When you saw my smile drop, it wasn’t because I was planning to leave you. You were so good with Anakin and I started thinking about how I can never make something like a family happen for you. Kriff! I can’t even properly marry you if we wanted to!” His voice began to grow louder as he expressed more and more frustration with himself.
Immense relief filled you as you realized exactly what he meant. If the two of you made it through everything, he would never be able to provide for you. Not the way he would like to. Not without breaking The Code or leaving the Jedi.
Stepping up to him, you cut him off as he was still rambling about it all by placing a hand on his cheek. You offered a sad smile, showing him that you already had thought about it.
“It’s alright, Obi. That was something that I’ve already come to terms with.”
He tried to offer at least a smirk, but he couldn’t. He hated the fact that you accepted it already. You deserved so much more. You deserved a family. You deserved a husband that you could actually love openly.
You painfully could see what was running through his mind. When he went to open his mouth to speak it, you instead kept him from voicing it and pressed your lips to his. It took him by surprise, but he kissed you back.
“I know you think I deserve more,” you say when the two of you separate, resting your foreheads together. “But I don’t want it if it means I don’t have you. Even if I never have a true family, we’re enough. You are more than enough.”
Obi-Wan almost broke right there. He almost let himself go and crumble in your arms. He almost said that he was going to give everything up for you, but you wouldn’t have that. You wanted him to stay a Jedi because you knew he loved it. You didn’t want him to change who he was just to be with you.
At the thought of just how much you thought about his future as he did yours, it was the final push.
Tears built up in his eyes and he fell into your arms. Gently, you guided him down to the floor as his face was pushing into your chest, nose pressed into your sternum. You guided him so that you were both on your knees, until Obi-Wan instead rested on a hip as he wrapped his arms around you.
Resorting to your usual method of comfort, you started to stroke the hair on the side of his head, starting just above his ear and trailing down to the nape of his neck. Your other hand gently rubbed his back. You could feel the material of your gown grow wet with Obi-Wan’s tears, but you couldn’t care. All you cared about is that he was finally letting it all out.
This was why you loved Obi-Wan so much. He not only had the ability to constantly comfort you, but he trusted you enough that he let his normally composed stature drop, allowing you to return the favour.
When he began to calm, you retrieved a handkerchief from a hidden pocket in the gown. After he pulled away, you used it to wipe his cheeks dry and handed it to him to take care of any other needs.
“Thank you.”
“I love you, Obi-Wan. That’s all that matters. I don’t need everything else if it means that I have you,” you replied, bringing a hand to cup his jaw.
Smiling, he moved his head to kiss your palm.
-
The day on Coruscant was a lonely one. Instead of joining Padmé in all of her diplomatic ventures, you stayed in your temporary apartment. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had taken Anakin a few hours ago, not long before the Queen of Naboo joined Senator Palpatine to address the rest of the Senate about their planet’s issue with the Trade Federation.
The time with Anakin had been amazing. Despite what he had been through as a slave, he was quite a happy boy. He was excited about every little detail of the planet as you looked out the window and pointed things out to him.
Now, though, you were alone. You were passing the time by reading a holo book before you heard a knock at the door. A little too quickly, you got up to answer it.
After pressing the button, the door slid open to reveal Obi-Wan. He quickly looked around the room, surveying for anyone else, before suddenly enveloping your lips in his. There was an eagerness behind it that the two of you hadn’t been able to act on in almost a week.
You couldn’t help but giggle, “My, my, the padawan is eager.”
“Only because this is the only night we have on this planet. Alone, if I might add,” he said between kisses, slowly removing the outer layer of your dress. You couldn’t help but move your hand to undo his belt so that you could remove his robes and tunic.
“What about-”
“I’ll tell you later,” you quickly said, cutting you off. Letting out another giggle, Obi-Wan lifted you and carried you to the bedroom.
-
You were tracing circles on his chest as his breathing was starting to even out again. The layer of sweat made the feeling of his skin the best thing you ever felt.
Obi-Wan was relishing in the feeling of your hair pressing against his chest and shoulder. Looking down at you in the soft light of the lamp, he brushed a strand behind your ear. Your eyes sparkled in the beautiful way that he knew was only for him.
“Are you going to finally tell me what happened?” you asked before pressing a kiss to his collarbone.
You pressed a few more, each one making their way up his neck.
Suddenly, he flipped you to your back, which earned a squeal from you, and he hung over you, letting out a chuckle before saying, “Not if you keep doing that. I’m afraid I would tell you something slightly different. Again.”
Giggling, you pulled him down from his position on his elbows so that you could kiss him.
“Okay,” you said with a chuckle as his lips moved back from yours, “I’ll be serious now.”
“About which part, darling?” He said in a teasing tone as he looked down at you with raised eyebrows.
Although he knew you thought that you looked like a mess, he thought that you were utterly beautiful.
“Who said that it only had to be about one,” you quipped back. Obi-Wan practically growled as he dove his lips back to yours.
-
This time, you let Obi-Wan have some time before imploring him to tell you what happened. You wanted to know if Anakin would be trained as a Jedi like he had been promised.
“Unfortunately, my prediction was correct. The council said he was too old.”
“But,” you said. You knew there was more. There was no way that his master would take no for an answer. Not when Obi-Wan had told you how much Qui-Gon studied the prophecies.
Obi-Wan chuckled, “But, my master is adamant about the boy being trained. He said that he would train him, which took me by surprise before saying I was ready for the trials.” He sighed, “I tried to step in to defend his decision, but I’m afraid I had spoken out of turn. Then, they let us leave without giving a straight answer. I know Qui-Gon will train the boy with or without the council’s permission.”
“Poor Anakin. He’s such a sweet one,” you said. Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. He had only known the boy a couple of days, but he liked the boy. Clearly, you did as well.
“I just hope they will change their minds. We don’t want anyone with that kind of signature in the force to fall onto the wrong path.”
You looked up at Obi-Wan from your place on his chest. He was staring at the ceiling, no doubt deep in thought. Lightly, you played with his padawan braid. It had been something that he’d let you do more and more as days went on.
“I’m sure, whatever way it is, Anakin will be properly trained. He deserves it,” you say before attempting to stifle a yawn.
Obi-Wan’s attention was brought back down to you, stifling his own yawn. He encouraged you to sleep as he drew patterns on your back. You were partially on top of him, and he loved it. It allowed him to feel your heartbeat not far from his.
His attention was fully on you as he watched as you drifted off. Only when he was sure you were asleep did he allow his own eyes to close. He focused on the feeling of your skin pressed to his as he let sleep overtake him.
- - -
@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @jaydenwoo @madmax2003
31 notes · View notes
chloelucia13 · 3 years
Text
Chapter 5: Downpour
Tumblr media
Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader
Prompt: After a year free of Spencer Reid, you had finally began to think that you had moved on. A simple (not-so-simple) knock at the door immediately changes that thought, though.
Warnings: Angst, some fluff, lead-up to smut, language, descriptions of violence and gore, mentions of death, pretty routine though
Word Count: 3006
A/N: And we’re on to chapter 5! I hope you all aren’t too upset about the big time jump. Anyways, enjoy, and as always, my tag lists and asks are open!
Tags: @tclaerh​, @jemimah-b99​, @x2moonlight2x-blog​
***
You hate Valentine’s Day.
You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you had someone to spend Valentine’s Day with. Most of your life you had spent working hard to get good grades, succeed in college, and get your doctorate. 
Then Spencer came along. The two of you had been dating for only a few months when Valentine’s had come around, and for once, you understood the charm of the holiday. You both had dressed up for a nice dinner at home, sharing a bottle of wine and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. The night ended with your nice clothes on the bedroom floor and blooming hickeys glowing under the bright sunshine the next morning. 
But now you were alone, and that familiar feeling of dread lingered in the pit of your stomach throughout the whole holiday.
With your knees tucked under your chin and your hands holding a blanket against your body, you sat on your couch watching Golden Girls re-runs. You had a bowl of popcorn you made about an hour ago on the coffee table, but it was abandoned after a few bites. That pit in your stomach made you feel nauseous, too nauseous to eat.
You didn’t know what time it was exactly, but you knew it was late from the absence of light in your apartment, excluding the small glimmer of moonlight shining in through your window and the show flickering on your TV. 
You really couldn’t place why you were so devastated that day. Of course, you knew you felt alone and you were dwelling on the old memories you shared with Spencer. But you had made so much progress in moving on, on not letting him control your life despite his absent presence. You felt as if you had taken ten steps backwards, back to the first few months of coping without him. It was devastating. It was embarrassing.
Earlier in the day, you had even considered buying yourself flowers, just so you could have something else in the apartment to not make you feel so alone. Maybe you’d convince yourself into thinking that Spencer had, in fact, bought them for you, and he was just gone away on a case.
God, you were really losing it.
You were losing it so much, in fact, that you thought you heard a knock on your door.
But then you heard it again.
Your brows furrowed confusedly and you pushed the blanket off your body and turned off the TV before rising to your feet, padding softly over to the door.
You assumed it was Penelope since her frequent visits have not ceased despite the circumstances that took place between two of her best friends. She probably was coming by to comfort you, somehow being able to sense your need for a warm presence and copious amounts of alcohol.
With a huff, you pulled your door open, rubbing your tired eyes. “Penelope, I’m fine, really,” you began before the door even opened fully. 
Your words died in your mouth, however, when you fully opened the door. 
“Spence?”
A shy smile rested on his face, nervously playing with the strap of his satchel as his eyes searched yours. “Hi,” he spoke. “I was- uh, hoping we could talk, but since Penelope is coming over-”
You shook your head. “She isn’t coming over. I just thought you were her, since she’s the only person that really visits.” You cleared your throat, letting your eyes wander over his form. “You cut your hair.”
A soft blush bloomed across his cheeks, his lips curling up into that small smile that you knew so well. That you loved so much. “I-I did, yeah.”
“It looks nice.” The two of you stood there awkwardly for a beat, both of your minds clearly flooded with anxious thoughts. “You can, uh, come in.”
You stepped away from the door, wandering into the living room and flicking on the lights. You could hear the door shut but avoided looking back, that familiar feeling of dread now shifting into panic. 
“Y/N?”
You hummed in response, finally allowing yourself to turn and face him. “Yeah?”
“Can we talk?”
You pursed your lips, averting your gaze to the floor. “Right, that’s, uh, what you’re here for.” After silently gesturing to the couch, you two took a seat, a generous amount of space between you two, and he set his satchel down to seemingly create a barrier (at least, that’s what your mind told you). “What do you want to talk about?”
He shifted in his seat, his gaze set forward on the powered off TV. “These past few days, we were in Pittsburgh for a case. It was a couple, an older couple, who were using murder as a way to work through their relationship issues. To bond.”
You nodded along, a deep line in your forehead as you pondered what all of this was about.
“It just...” He let out a sigh. “It made me wonder if we could’ve been like that.”
You tilted your head slightly. “Murderers?” you hummed.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “If we could’ve grown old together. I-If we could’ve gotten married, bought a house, had kids... Had a normal life.”
You shifted awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle. “Spence...”
“Why did you leave?”
You looked up at him and saw that he now had his gaze settled on you. “What?”
“Why did you leave that day? When I went to help the team and you told me you’d stay?” His eyes searched yours. “I... I got home and you were gone. Your key was on the floor.” He sniffled, his lower lip trembling slightly. “It was like I lost you all over again.”
You didn’t know what to say, but you did know that you couldn’t bear seeing Spencer cry. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“I was gonna fix everything. We were gonna be okay.” He let out a shuddering breath.
“You can’t just fix everything, Spence. That’s not how it works.” You let out a sigh, pressing your palms into your closed eyes.
He was silent for a moment. “I wanted to try.”
You couldn’t help but repeat him. “Wanted?”
He chewed on his lower lip, turning to connect his gaze to yours. “I want to try. God, I want to try again so bad.”
It took all of your willpower to refrain from pulling him into your arms, to refrain from giving in. Instead, you reached out and rested your hand atop his. “You don’t know how much I’d love that.” His face lit up, and a small pang resonated in your chest. “But I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. I don’t know if...”
His face fell. “If you can trust me.”
You shook your head vehemently, leaning closer to him. “No, it’s not that. It’s just...” You blinked away a few tears. “Whenever I let my mind wander, I can’t help but think about what could’ve happened if everything didn’t happen. If Maeve was never in the picture, if it was just us for the rest of our lives.”
“Don’t you want that?”
“I do, but when I remember that it never could’ve happened...” A small sob bubbled in your throat. “It hurts to even think of it. Of what could’ve been.” You pulled your hand away to wipe at your cheeks. “And then my mind drifts off to what could’ve happened if Maeve didn’t leave, if you and her stayed together and were a couple. And it just makes me so... angry. It makes me someone I don’t want to be. Someone so full of-of hate, and disdain, and envy.” 
“But it didn’t happen. I’m with you. I want to be with you.”
Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself to your feet, beginning to pace the floor. “You don’t understand, Spencer. Now, every time I see you, every time I think of you, it just ends with me hurting and full of so much fucking hate. I hate you, and I hate her, and-” You tried to take a breath, your last words coming out as a weak whisper, “I hate myself for somehow driving you away.” You shoved your face into your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.
Spencer’s footsteps sounded, growing closer and closer to you until you felt his presence at your side. “A few weeks ago, JJ was kidnapped and tortured. We found her in time, but that whole time that we were looking for her, I couldn’t help but think about what happened last year. And that was the first time I really, truly let myself think about what happened.” He cleared his throat, gently taking your tear-soaked hands into his. “And I realized that you were the only one who was there for me. The girl whose life I ruined was the person who went out of their way to save me. And I’m so selfish and stupid for not realizing that at all. God, I have an IQ of 187 but I’m the dumbest fucking person I know for not realizing that the best thing I had was right in front of me.”
“Spencer-”
“And then I threw everything away, and I hope you never forgive me for that, because I will never forgive myself for it. My selfishness and idiocy have landed us in a position that I will never fix, and you’ve made it clear that it can’t be fixed. But my selfishness won’t let me accept it, and that’s why I'm here. That’s why I’m begging you to give me another chance, knowing damn well that I don't deserve it. And it’s my own selfishness for making you relive all of it just so I can ask. But I can’t just let you go, no matter how hard how I try.”
You couldn’t fathom a single word to respond to him with, so you just stepped forward, your gaze locked on his as you stood just centimeters apart, your breath mingling with his. “Do you think... Do you think that we’ll ever be okay again?”
He squeezed your hands, his eyes searching yours. “I don't know, but I hope we will be some day.”
“I want to try, Spence. I really do. I’m just scared.”
He nodded, bumping his nose with yours. “We can take it slow.”
You pursed your lips, but a small smile tugged at the corners. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, and before you could even breathe out another word, Spencer’s lips were on yours, his fingers drifting away from your hands so they could cup your cheeks.
In a moment, it felt as if nothing had changed. It felt as though it was any other night, the two of you spending a night together after a case, just enjoying the other’s company and allowing yourselves to melt into each other. Each of his touches rang so familiar, his lips gliding against yours as if they had never left.
You were finally able to move your hands after a few moments, allowing your fingers to glide through his hair and relish in the feeling that you hadn't experienced for a year. 
It ended all too quickly when Spencer pulled his lips from yours, his panting breath fanning across your face as his eyes slowly fluttered open. You let out a small hum of protest, craning forward for a moment before snapping back into the moment, reminding yourself not to push it. 
“What’s wrong?” you questioned, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.
“I-um,” Spencer began, letting out a small chuckle. “I just remembered I brought something for you.”
You tilted your head, reluctantly letting your touch fall away from him as he turned to rifle through his satchel. A moment later he stood up and turned to you, a crooked smile on his face and a wilting bundle of red poppies clutched in his hands. 
“I wanted to hide them so it’d be a surprise, but they didn’t really stay intact.”
Your lower lip quivered, reaching out and taking the bouquet in your hands. “You got me flowers?” you choked out, fawning over the flowers before shifting your gaze to him.
He nodded, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “I-In western cultures, red poppies usually symbolize consolation and peace. In eastern cultures, though, they symbolize love and success.” He chewed on his lower lip. “I figured both interpretations would fit well.”
“They’re beautiful.” Sniffling, you set the bundle down on the coffee table before taking his hand in yours. “I... I don’t really know what to say.”
He squeezed your hand and wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Happy Valentine’s day.” Silently, his eyes flickered from your lips before returning them to your own. “I... I lo-”
Before he could get the words out, words that you were too fearful to utter yourself, you pressed your lips to his once more. he let out a surprised hum, the hand around your waist gripping tightly onto you and searching for a silver of bare skin.
You pulled your hand from his and gripped onto his hair once more, your other hand quickly working at the buttons of his shirt. Your initiative quickly spurred Spencer forward, his hands moving under your top and gliding against your skin.
This was a bad idea. A horrible idea. But God, you’d be lying if you didn’t want it so bad. 
So much for going slow.
***
This February 15th ended up appearing the same as the last, with clothes strewn about the apartment, scattered throughout in the same messy way that hickeys tattered your skin and Spencer’s.
His hands were still on your bare skin when you woke, the sun shining through the pale curtains. 
What was new was the heavy feeling of dread, settling so deeply into the pit of your stomach you could’ve sworn that you felt your tummy distending.
It seemed that your worries were so loud that they woke Spencer up, as a small groan left his lips and he shifted against your back. Immediately you leveled out your breath, letting your eyes flutter closed so you appeared to still be sleeping.
Gently, his fingers caressed your upper arm, his lips pressing kisses against the goosebumps left in the wake of his fingers. You tried with all your might to keep your breath from hitching, but you couldn't decide if it was because you didn’t want him to stop or if you were too nervous to discuss the actions that took place the night before. Probably both. 
Spencer’s fingers had abandoned your arm, instead moving to brush your hair away from your neck and attach his lips to the junction between your neck and shoulder. At that moment your body had betrayed you as a soft moan had tumbled from your lips.
He chuckled against your skin, his hand snaking around your waist and resting against your sternum, fingers splaying out and pulling you close to him. “Good morning, love,” he hummed, his nose nudging under your chin and prompting you to turn your head to look at him.
Your eyes latched onto his gaze, and it was clear that your emotions were translating very clearly through your expressions as he slowly loosened his grip on you. “Spencer,” you sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
You worried on your lower lip, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, you pushed yourself out of his grasp and swung your legs over the side of the bed, eyes searching the wall as if it held all the answers.
Spencer scooted forward, one hand reaching out to trace along your spine while his other arm propped himself up. “Y/N?”
“I thought we were gonna go slow,” you whispered, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him.
“Did... Did you not want to have sex last night?” A look of worry began to settle on his features, and you could basically see all of the panicked thoughts whirring around in his head.
“No, no. I mean, yes, but it’s not that.” You huffed out through your nose. “I just feel like... Like my decision-making skills are impaired, especially when I’m around you. Like all sense goes out the window and I just want to be with you, but it’s not good for either of us to rush into it so quickly.”
He nodded, his gaze dropping to the bedsheets. “I’m sorry.”
You reached out, hand cupping his jaw and tilting his chin up to look at you. “It’s not your fault. I just think that...”
“That we need to take things slower from now on.”
“Exactly.” You gave him a small smile, one that he returned. “Maybe we can start going on dates again, work back up to where we were bef-” You stopped yourself from finishing the word, though you could tell that Spencer knew exactly what you were going to say. 
Before Maeve.
With a final nod, you both were silent, moving out of bed to get dressed. Once you were dressed in a baggy shirt and sleep shorts and Spencer was clad in last night’s clothes, he turned to you once more. “Y/N?” he spoke, sliding his satchel over his shoulder.
“Yeah?” you hummed, letting your gaze fall onto his.
“Can I...” He stepped forward, toe to toe. “Can I kiss you?”
You let out a sigh. “Spence-”
“I just, I need to kiss you one last time. Then we can go back to the beginning.” His eyes were begging, his hands itching to touch you. “Please.”
You weighed your options. On one hand, you didn’t know the next time you’d have the chance to kiss him, and you already were craving your next fix. On the other hand, though, you were worried that it would make it exponentially more difficult to start over after being reminded of how his lips felt against yours.
Wordlessly, you stepped forward and threw caution to the wind.
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Text
About Time [G.W] - Part 5
pairing: George Weasley x OC
series description: on an unexpected night out, George meets the love of his life. and then suddenly loses her. what lengths will he go to in order to find her?
word count: 2.5k
taglist: @p0gues4l @amourtentiaa @305weasley
series masterlist
“Weasley, for two,” George said to the host. After leaving Gringotts, they had apparated to downtown London to a small wizard-friendly restaurant. They were guided to a small table in the corner of the dimly lit restaurant. There was a flame lit in a jar that was sitting on the table, providing some mood lighting.
The table was small and George’s long legs were so cramped that his knees were gently grazing his date’s.
“This is nice,” she said, looking around the small restaurant. The atmosphere was warm and cozy, which was only enhanced by a man playing guitar and singing cover songs for the patrons.
“Have you been here before?” George asked.
“No, I didn’t know this place existed.”
“Wish I could take credit but Fred recommended it. This is his go-to date spot.”
“And where’s your go-to date spot?” she challenged.
“Eh that would be Dans le Noir,” George replied, referring to the spot where they had shared a meal in complete darkness.
She laughed, “No I’m serious.”
“I don’t think I really have one. Every now and then I’ll take someone to one of the bars in Diagon Alley, but truthfully I don’t go on many dates.”
“That surprises me,” she replied.
“Why’s that?”
“You’re very likable and easy to be around. And you’re not too bad to look at either.”
He blushed ever so slightly, “I think I can get along with anyone, but I’m more interested in finding someone I have a connection with and that’s a bit harder to find.”
“Do you feel like there’s a connection between us?”
“Do you really need to ask that question?” He responded
“Hey, I’m entitled to ask that! As of an hour ago I had no idea you were even interested. This has all been very unexpected.”
“That’s fair. Well for the record, you’re the first person I’ve felt a connection with in a long time.”
She let out a small smile before asking, “So what happened that night?”
George sighed, “I still haven’t been able to figure it out. I think I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you so it took me by surprise when you were so…incredible. And then I got nervous because I wanted you to like me and I wasn’t myself. That’s never happened to me before.”
“Well don’t let it happen again,” she replied with a smirk. They were briefly interrupted by a waiter who came by to take their orders. Molly continued the conversation, “I want to call you out for taking me on a proper date only after seeing me for the first time but it seems like you had this all planned out.”
“This was one of many plans.”
“Oh yeah? What were the other plans?”
“The original plan was waiting for you to come into the shop, but you didn’t want to cooperate.”
“I thought about it. A few times actually. But I convinced myself that you had someone else in your life, which is why you were so quiet that night. And I thought seeing you might be difficult.”
George hadn’t thought about her perspective before and it made perfect sense. He wasn’t sure what he could say to make things better, and luckily Molly interjected and said, “So how did you get to tonight’s plan?”
“I considered writing to you at the Prophet, but that just seemed so impersonal. And then I thought about just coming to your workplace to ask you out, but that didn’t seem quite right either. And then Fred found the invitation in the mail. I wasn’t positive you would be there, but it seemed like a real possibility. And now here we are.”
“You’re very impressive, you know that?”
“All for you, darling,” Molly blushed at his comment and George called her out, “Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to be all nervous now?”
“Of course not,” she replied.
“Then why are you blushing?”
She smiled, “It’s just nice to be pursued.”
“I have a hard time believing that guys aren’t throwing themselves at you.”
She considered her words carefully, “There are a lot of guys that are interested in sleeping with me, but romance appears to be a bit of a lost art.”
“Lucky for you, I am quite the romantic.”
“I bet you are,” she smiled. The conversation flowed pretty effortlessly and soon they had finished up their meals and were working on the last of their drinks. As George closed out the tab, Molly asked, “Do you want to go for a walk?”
George smiled, “I’d like that.” He finished paying the bill as Molly sucked down her last few sips before they gathered their things and walked out together.
It was a beautiful night, perfect for a walk through the town. George had his hand in his pockets and Molly took this moment to make a move.
“Wow, you aren’t even going to try and hold my hand?” she commented.
George looked at her and smiled, “You didn’t strike me as the PDA type.”
“Normally I’m not, but I’m willing to make an exception for someone special.” He took his hand out of his pocket and scooped up her delicate hand in one swift motion. He quickly interlaced their fingers and swung their hands back and forth. She chuckled at his enthusiasm.
“So I have an idea for our next date,” George said.
“And what makes you think there’s going to be a next date?” she teased.
“Because I know you can’t resist my effortless charm.”
“I won’t confirm or deny that. But hypothetically speaking, what sort of date are you planning?”
“I’m thinking I’ll get us some tickets to the Weird Sisters,” George felt butterflies in his stomach thinking of their first concert experience together.
“So you’re going to wait two weeks before taking me out on another date?” she countered. George was crafting a response but before he could say anything she added, “I’m surprised, I thought this date was going pretty well.”
“Ah so you do want a second date,” he grinned.
“I would like a second date, but please don’t make me wait two weeks. The concert can be our fourth or fifth date.”
“Now Molly, I know you couldn’t possibly be getting attached,” George said.
“Come on now George, you know I’m way too cool to admit to that.”
“Ah, but you also didn’t deny it.” Molly rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile growing on her face.
They continued walking along the cobblestone street, passing by storefronts that were dark and the occasional pub with a boisterous crowd. George didn’t have a destination in mind, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to spend as much time with Molly as he could get.
“So Molly, I know you’re from the States, but whereabouts?” he asked.
“I’m from Chicago.”
“Oh I’ve actually heard of Chicago. And how did you like it?”
“It’s a great city. Part of me thinks I could’ve had a happy life living in Chicago. But I wanted to explore new places and that wasn’t going to happen in my hometown.”
“Well for the record, I’m glad you decided to venture across the pond.”
“And where are you from?”
“I’m from Devon,” he said.
“Oh nice,” Molly replied.
“Are you familiar with Devon?” he asked skeptically.
She shook her head, “Not at all.” George laughed and she added, “Can’t say we learned much European geography in school.”
“So Devon is on the Western coast. It’s close to Cornwall which you may have heard of.”
“Yes, Cornwall I know.”
“Yeah so we’re a bit further north. And our town is rather small, mostly farms. Muggles primarily inhabit the area so we keep to ourselves for the most part.”
“And how did you like that?”
He sighed, “I loved my upbringing, but there’s a reason I moved closer to the city. I needed a little more action and excitement.”
“Now that I understand.”
“What’s your favorite part about London?” he asked.
She thought for a moment, “I love everything about London. I can’t quite put my finger on why. When I first came here when I was younger, I just had a feeling in my stomach that this was where I wanted to be. I’m a very logical person and I had never really experienced a feeling like that. So I followed it and never looked back.”
“Do you think you’ll stay here long term?”
She nodded, “I miss my family terribly and I would love to be closer to home, but I can’t imagine leaving London right now.”
“Well good. I had to make sure you weren’t planning to up and leave.”
“Nah, not my style,” she joked.
At this point, Molly had slowed her walking pace and came to a halt. George took a few steps ahead and turned around.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.
“Well we’ve reached our destination,” she said. He looked at her with a puzzled look. “This is my apartment,” she said, directing her attention to the window situated on top of the teashop where they were currently standing.
“Did you just trick me into walking you home?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Maybe,” she smirked. “But I’m hoping you’ll come upstairs with me for a nightcap.”
Molly noticed him perk up ever so slightly as a small smile spread across his face. “I couldn’t possibly turn that down.” Molly smiled and gently dropped his hand as she fished her keys out of her pocket. They walked up the narrow staircase that led to her tiny one bedroom apartment. Before unlocking the door, Molly pulled out her wand and muttered a quick spell that George recognized to be a charm to tidy up.
“I wasn’t exactly expecting company tonight,” she explained.
“Does that mean you’re messy normally?” he challenged.
“Well...it's more clutter than anything. Does that…bother you?”
“Not at all. I’m one of six dear, I’m used to clutter.”
Molly sighed with relief as she opened the door to her magically cleaned apartment. It was kitschy and cramped, yet very comfortable.
“Make yourself at home,” she smiled, as she walked over to the bar cart to pour a couple firewhiskeys. George took off his suit jacket and laid it carefully over one of the kitchen chairs. He slipped off his shoes and placed them neatly by the front door. Molly padded over barefoot to the couch and George followed with ease.
“Cheers,” she said, as they clinked glasses. Molly took a generous sip from her glass to combat her nerves. She hadn’t expected any of this and she was surprised at how bold she had acted around George. She liked him and she was sure about that, but she wasn’t quite sure what her next move was.
Molly placed her glass on the coffee table and slid in a little bit closer to George. “Thank you for tonight,” she said genuinely, as she placed a delicate hand on his leg.
“Thank you for giving me a chance,” he replied. George shifted and put his arm around her shoulders. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked.
“I had a wonderful time with you.”
“Can I take you out again next week?”
Molly simply nodded and smiled at him. George sighed and cupped her cheek. “Have I told you how absolutely stunning you are?”
Molly giggled and said, “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“It’s the truth, I’m not just saying that.”
She blushed, “I didn’t think you were. Your eyes said it all.”
“Now that is not fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
“My eyes say it all yet your eyes aren’t giving me anything,” he joked.
“Really? You aren’t getting the message that I’m trying to send you?”
“You’re going to have to try harder darling because I’m not getting anything.”
“Oh, you know what…I’m better at sending messages with my lips than my eyes,” she flirted.
“Is that so?”
“Only one way to find out.”
That was all the encouragement George needed. He leaned in towards Molly, planning to tease her a little but as soon as he felt her breath he couldn’t help himself. He gently placed his hand on the back of her neck and through her hair as his lips connected with hers.
The electricity was unlike anything he had ever felt before. If he thought she was the one before, now he was certain.
“Wow,” she breathed, catching her breath for a moment.
“That good, huh?” George joked.
“Can we do that again?” Molly asked, tugging on George’s tie.
“As you wish,” he said, enveloping her lips in his. It wasn’t long before the two were horizontal on the couch. Molly felt like a giddy teenager and couldn’t get enough of George. His musky scent was driving her wild.
George slowly kissed up her neck to her ear, where he nibbled on her ear lobe. That set her over the edge.
“We should…move to the bedroom,” Molly suggested.
George popped up to look at her, “Are you sure?”
Molly nodded enthusiastically, “I’m sure.” George stood and scooped up Molly in his arms as she giggled and he carried her into the bedroom where the festivities would continue.
X
“Wow,” George said, as he collapsed in bed next to Molly.
“Wow is right,” she said, struggling to catch her breath. She curled into George’s chest as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“I never do this,” Molly stated.
“Well you could’ve fooled me,” he said.
She lightly smacked him on the chest. “I’m not talking about sex,” she chuckled, “I mean that I never bring guys home on the first date.”
“Technically that was our second date, love.”
“Okay well I don’t usually bring guys home on the second date either.”
“Are you trying to tell me you like me?” he joked.
She laughed and said, “I’m trying to tell you that you’re special.”
George felt fuzzy inside. This was the first time that she had been direct with him about her feelings. He was starting to see a future with her.
“So what are we going to do tomorrow?” he asked.
“We could go to brunch…or we could make some breakfast here. And then if it’s nice we could go for a walk in the park. If it’s not nice we can go see a movie.”
“All I want is to spend the day with you darling.”
“Will you take me to your shop tomorrow?” she asked.
“You want to see the shop?” he looked at her with a smile.
She nodded, “I want to learn everything about you.”
George kissed her temple and pulled her in closer to him. “I would love nothing more than to share that with you.”
Molly smiled and pecked him a few times on the lips. She turned and pulled George around her so they were spooning. George kissed her shoulder and wished her good night as she drifted off to sleep.
George was soothed by her steady breathing and felt himself grow tired, but his mind was reeling which was preventing him from falling asleep. He couldn’t believe how perfectly things had gone and that his patience had actually paid off. His instincts were spot on and he knew that this girl was the one for him. George recognized that they were in the early stages of something special, but he knew he had found his soul mate.
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astralaffairs · 4 years
Note
how about #23 "Just pretend to be my date.” with our man thomas? 👀 a good ol' fake dating au
oml i LOVE this prompt and had soso much fun writing this
-------
"Fancy meetin' you here."
You turned with a start to the voice behind you, eyes wide, until you saw who stood there wearing an entertained grin, one hand tucked in his pocket and the other holding a red solo cup. You stood beside the table of drinks at yet another frat party, having just cut away from your group of friends in order to grab yourself something -- you were still too far on the boring side of sober.
"Thomas, hey!" you exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
"I do live upstairs, sweetheart," he said with a raised eyebrow, and you could feel your cheeks heat. You were both well aware you knew he'd been a member of Sigma Pi since you were both freshmen, but this was still one of few times you'd actually seen him at a party.
"I know that," you defended, and he chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. "I just didn't expect to run into you. It's a big place."
"Oh, so you've been avoidin' me?" he challenged, grin broadening, and you rolled your eyes as you poured yourself another Kamchatka.
"What gave it away?" you said, tone dry, and he shrugged.
"That you've gotten pretty good at makin' yourself hard to find," he said, and though his voice was light, playful, when you looked up at him, his raised eyebrow and piercing gaze had you unsure as to whether or not it was a joke. But then his expression relaxed, breaking your stare as he surveyed the party. "Not that I've been lookin' for you, or anythin'."
"Mhm." His demeanor had fallen flat, his nonchalance more jarring than his teasing. He stood with his back against the counter, and when you turned to join him, you playfully checked your hip against his. Though he chose that moment to take a sip of his drink (a coincidence you suspected wasn't so coincidental), you could see the corners of his lips quirk. "Don't play coy, Jefferson; I know how charming I am."
He laughed outright at that, and though your words had been a joke, you were more than ready to take offense at his reaction. "Hey, no false pretenses here. Wasn't I the one who just said I've been lookin' for you?"
He glanced down at you with that, appearing to be entertained by the skeptical look in your eye. "Last I checked, you were the one who denied having been looking for me."
There was a skip, with that. Your tone was challenging, and he recognized it for what it was. While you stared up at him expectantly, your eyebrows shot up when his eyes roamed down your figure. "Alright, then maybe just a couple false pretenses."
"What exactly are you implying?"
"Aw, what, I'm not allowed to have missed you?" His overly-dramatic pout made you smile -- it definitely wasn't that his words were getting to you, or anything; you just didn't feel the need to hide your amusement at his antics. Regardless, you did turn your head to the crowd before you. "'M not allowed to want you?"
You breath caught at his words. His tone had dropped an octave, was closer to a low, gruff hum, and though you weren't facing him, you could tell by how clear his words were that he'd dipped down to murmur the words to you. Your eyes were almost comically wide, and you couldn't bear to turn back to him, couldn't stand to meet his gaze.
"Excuse me?" was all you managed in response, your voice breathy and clipped, and you could feel his warm breath brush over your neck with his light laugh.
"'M I not allowed to wanna spend time with you?" he responded, as though to repeat what he'd said before. The words almost sounded patronizing. His voice was back to normal; you could feel on the skin of your shoulder that he'd moved back to where he was standing.
You wide eyes then held disbelief instead of unease as you looked up at him. He stood casually, a hand in his pocket as he took another sip of his drink, and the only sign you hadn't imagined his words altogether was the tiny, smug grin he wore that told you he was relishing in his effect on you. He let you look on skeptically another moment before he finally glanced back down, shrugging. "What?"
"You've gotta be kidding me," you huffed, and he pursed his lips to keep his smile from growing.
"Now, I'm just not sure what you're talkin' about," he said frankly, and you scoffed loudly enough for him to hear it over the clamor of the party. "You accusin' me of somethin'?"
"Forget it," you muttered bitterly, averting your eyes from his ever-growing ego.
"Aw, don't be so hostile, now." He jabbed you lightly with his elbow, his stare teasing, and though you shied away from the touch, his smile was unfortunately contagious. "I better not have spent all that time lookin' for you for nothin'."
"Not my fault if you're too obnoxious for me to live up to expectations," you replied.
"No worries, sweetheart; you always do." You rolled your eyes, but he didn't seem to be joking; his sharp gaze burned right through you, and a shiver ran down your spine. A skip passed in (relative) silence -- that is, if you didn't consider the ruckus carrying on all around you. You bit your lip when he didn't look away. "Hey, what d'you say we--"
"Y/N!"
You both looked left, following the strident voice that sounded over the crowd, and as if on cue, you both groaned -- and not for entirely different reasons. Your pseudo-ex, Samuel Seabury, was shoving his way through the crowd toward you. You'd dated him in your freshman year -- it wasn't even a relationship, as you saw it. You'd gone on three dates to try and alleviate his fixation on you. You pinched the bridge of your nose when you saw him getting caught behind the football team. (Your hope that he wouldn't emerge from the other side proved to be futile.)
"Cockblock," Thomas muttered into his cup, and you raised an eyebrow at him.
"What was that?"
"Good luck with him," he continued, ignoring your interjection entirely, and when he began to take a step away from you, your eyes widened.
"Hey, you're leaving?"
"I'm not tryin' to spend my night with that weasel." He tried to continue, but you grabbed him by the arm, doing your best to pull him back. Your strength didn't exactly overpower him, but it did manage to dissuade him from his retreat.
"But you're leaving me with him?"
Amusement shone in his eyes at how panicked you looked, and he took a step back toward you. "And what's it do for you if I stay?"
"I need an excuse to get away from him. Please, Thomas?" He looked at you dubiously, though he was clearly intrigued by your distress.
"I dunno about that."
"Come on, please, just--" Though your grip was digging into his arms as you tried to deter him from leaving, it still tightened when you looked back to see Samuel almost having reached you. However, your fraught history with him gave you an idea. "Pretend to be my date."
"What?"
"Pretend to be my date!" you repeated, your voice then all but a hiss, but he didn't look convinced.
"Y/N, I--"
"Y/N!" It was then Samuel who cut him off as he finally sidled up to where you stood, and if you didn't find his presence so disgusting, you might've found his timid smile endearing. "Hey, where have you been all night? I was trying to find you before, but--"
"I just got here," you said, plastering on a smile, and though you didn't bother trying to hold him in place, knowing perfectly well he could pull away from you whenever he chose to, Thomas stood by you, and you loosened your grip on his arm. Fortunately, with the way you stood, you could've passed for a couple -- that is, assuming Sam hadn’t noticed the growing fury in your body language just moments before he reached you. He raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, really?" he asked, and though you rarely gave him the benefit of the doubt, you had to believe the surprise in his doe-eyed stare was in earnest. "Why not? The party started hours ago."
"Didn't have a ride," you replied quickly, giving a shrug that you hoped came off as nonchalant but knew was as stiff as could be.
"But your roommate's been here for hours. Didn't you come with her?" By then, his curiosity had begun to sound more interrogating than innocent.
"Oh! I, uh--"
"She came with me." You let out a sigh of relief when Thomas cut in, placing his other hand atop where yours rested on his arm. You undoubtedly looked as grateful as you felt. "We were out together, before, and I ended up makin' us just a little bit late."
He winked, smiling down at you, and you turned back to Samuel with a shrug. "We might've lost track of time."
"Oh..." He eyed the two of you hesitantly, not quite sure what to make of your dynamic, but Thomas certainly seemed to be enjoying himself.
"'M sorry about that; 's my fault, really." He squeezed your hand, and all the bashfulness in his gaze was painfully contrived, but Samuel seemed to be slowly growing too sour to notice. "I'd apologize for keepin' her all to myself, but can you really blame me?"
"I guess not," Samuel answered slowly, eyes narrowed; he seemed to be searching for anything he could find out of place with the two of you. "So, what, you two are--"
"Really running late," you cut him off, and when he folded his arms, you could feel your smile tighten into a borderline grimace. "So sorry to leave right after running into you, but we promised we'd meet someone."
"Who?" he challenged, and you could feel yourself beginning to tense in fury. You saw Thomas wince out of the corner of your eye when your nails began to dig into his forearm.
"Samuel--"
"'S no one you'd know," Thomas said mildly as he laced his fingers into yours (most likely with the intent of stopping your sharp nails from breaking his skin, but the action looked affectionate nonetheless).
"Oh, are you sure? Because I might--"
"Nah, we're actually only here for a bit. Weren't plannin' to stay long; just promised we'd show our faces at the party, go stop by and see 'em," Thomas reasoned, and despite how annoyed Samuel slowly seemed to be growing, he couldn't say much in response at that point. "Occupational hazard, I guess. Comes along with bein' part of the fraternity."
"Then I guess I won't keep you," Samuel said, voice tentative, and you gave him a stiff smile as you began tugging Thomas away alongside you.
"Thanks, Sam, really." You genuinely gave your best effort at sounding warm as you started on your way past him. "It's always good to see you."
"You too, Y/N!" he replied, and you could hear him growing frantic as you began to push out of earshot. "Y'know, you can always call me if--"
Your eyes widened when Thomas stopped in his tracks, turning back to Samuel, but he ignored your urgent look. "Thanks, but she's got a better offer," Thomas called back at him, and though his voice had been light just minutes before, you could hear the annoyance in it as he wrapped an arm around your waist. You inhaled sharply when he pulled you into him, fingertips pressing into your hip, and your skin burned under his touch. "It'd do you nicely to take a hint, y'know."
You hardly caught a glimpse of Samuel's sullen glare as Thomas promptly pulled you back along with him through the crowd, pressed against his side.
"You're a lifesaver," you sighed, and when he looked down at you, seeing the gratitude written across your face, a grin split his embittered expression.
"I do my best," he replied, squeezing your side playfully. You wore a small, coy smile.
"I'm forever in your debt." Your sarcasm had no bite to it as you walked together, not sure where he was leading you but glad to make your escape, and he raised a playful eyebrow.
"Any interest in repayin' that, sweetheart?"
You laughed when he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Mm, tempting, but I'd really rather just get out of here. I don't want to risk running into dear, sweet Sam again," you huffed, and he chuckled.
"Where are you tryin' to go? Didn't your roommate drive you here?"
You shrugged. "You have any suggestions for me?"
You glanced up just as his smile broadened, but squealed when he turned to you, his other hand meeting your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest. He could feel your pounding heart against his body, could see you swallow harshly, and his smile was shamelessly delighted at your wide-eyed stare. He leaned forward, and you shivered when his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. "I mean, I might've mentioned," he murmured, and you inhaled sharply when you could feel the vibrations of the words against your skin, "but my bedroom is upstairs."
He leaned back after a few moments passed in silence, looking to gauge your reaction, but when you stood perfectly still, hands resting on his biceps, entirely stunned, he raised an eyebrow. Finally, you took a deep breath, and a small smile lurked at the corner of your mouth. You pushed yourself onto your toes to whisper to him, "Care to show me the way?"
Triumph flashed in his eyes. "No need for you to worry about how we're gettin' there." You hardly had time to process the words before he was leaning down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and you yelped. "Anyway, I think now just became the perfect time for us to get back to discussin' just how much you're in my debt."
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poliel · 3 years
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Surprise Egg 12/13: You Saved Buddy
“Of everyone I would’ve thought might decide jump off like that, I never would’ve guessed you’d be one,” Beffica said as she sidled up next to Filbo at the wheel.
“I couldn’t leave Buddy behind.” Not after everything they’d done for everyone else.
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true. Still wouldn’t have thought you had it in you. So… good job, I guess.”
Filbo tensed, gripping the wheel spokes a little harder because whenever she said something nice to him it was always followed by her turning it into a nasty backhanded compliment. … But no such thing was coming? … “Thanks?”
She laughed. “Wow, other than Buddy, people really don’t say nice things to you often, huh?”
“Not really, no.” It was really the fact that it was coming from her though that had put him off a bit. “And uh… I didn’t really do anything other than almost get myself killed so… yeah.” He didn’t really deserve someone telling him he’d done a ‘good job’ because he hadn’t.
“Nonsense, you saved Buddy. Probably anyway, it was kind of hard to see with how far it was and how unsteady the boat was. But I’m pretty sure their chances of dying back there would’ve been a lot higher if you hadn’t jumped down. So good job.” She patted him firmly on the back. “Gosh, I never would’ve thought I’d ever say anything like that to you of all people. But I guess that’s just how life is sometimes.”
“Uh… thanks.”
“Anyway, it looks like Cromdo wants to talk to you too so I’ll leave you to it or whatever.” With a dismissive paw wave, she turned and left.
Filbo turned to see that Cromdo had come up on his other side and was now standing there looking awkward. “Uh… hi Cromdo?”
“Yes uh… hi. I just wanted to say… uh well, how do it put this? Um… Hmmm…”
“You’re sorry you tried to leave without Buddy?” Filbo guessed.
Cromdo perked up, his snarky grin returning. “Yep, that’s it. That exact thing.”
“It’s fine.”
“Wait, you ain’t mad?”
“No. It was… the smart thing to do.” Looking back on it, there was no way Filbo could deny it even if he still hated the thought of it. “That Mama Mewon would’ve destroyed the ship if we’d hung around there for even a few more seconds. And then all of us would’ve been in pretty big trouble. So it’s fine.”
“Oh uh… cool. You sounded awful mad back there though, I ain’t never heard you growl like that before.”
“Oh uh… I try not but… it was a rather heated moment.” He’d growled at the Mama Mewon too even if it was only for at most a second or two. It had just happened not long ago yet and already he felt disconnected from it as if it had happened long ago or he’d seen someone else do it.
“But anyway uh… good job on saving Buddy and all that.” He too patted Filbo on the back before walking away.
“Thanks.”
In the next few hours almost everyone else onboard expressed surprise about Filbo jumping off to save Buddy and some kind of commendation for it as well. It was nice but… weird. Not knowing how to respond, he always just said ‘thanks’ and left it at that. Thankfully everyone was a bit too emotionally exhausted to talk about such things long and thus it wasn’t brought up for long.
Leaving Filbo to focus on piloting the ship as the sun finally rose. Despite that everyone else were finding places, mostly on deck or heading into the cabin to sleep. He’d have to join them soon because somehow even despite how worried he was about Buddy he was still very tired. The lack of sleep last night and the events of it were more than starting to catch up with him. He’d push himself for a little bit longer though.
Some hours later after everyone’s had some sleep and are awake again
“We should endeavor to keep bugsnax a secret,” Snorpy suddenly announced, breaking over the low murmur of conversation that had fallen over everyone milling around the deck.
“Why?” Gramble asked.
It was Floofty who answered him. “While normally I would brush Snorpyington’s fears off as baseless paranoia, we’ve discussed it privately with Triffany, who informed us of what we missed of Buddy’s interview of Lizbert, and all three of us came to the same conclusion. Bugsnax are dangerous and insidious. If we let the world know of them, many would be adventurers would find their way to Snaktooth Island in search of them and would consequently fall prey to their manipulations. Much like how all of us nearly did even despite our initial caution.”
That was a fair point; at the start of the expedition everyone had been wary about bugsnax and their transformative properties but quickly everyone’s fears had gone away. Looking back on it now, everyone had become okay with it much faster than was probably wise and other than Shelda hadn’t questioned it since. But while keeping them secret was probably wise and Filbo agreed with the idea of doing so… “Buddy’s not going to like that.” It felt wrong to take their story away from them after everything they’d suffered through for it.
“I know,” Triffany said from her spot by the cabin door. “But they’ll understand.”
Knowing how passionate they were about it, Filbo wasn’t so sure but, while it would take some convincing, they probably would ultimately concede to the wisdom of it. … “How are they by the way? Have they woken up, yet?” Surely they’d have come out of the cabin by now if they had and it’s not like Filbo would’ve missed them doing so. Though it could’ve been when he was sleeping.
“Last I saw they were still sleeping. Me and Wamby have been taking turns keeping an eye on them. But, if we’re all in agreement about keeping the bugsnax secret, I’ll go wake them real quick to check on them and make sure they know to censor their story.” She turned to look at everyone else gathered on the deck. After getting a general mumble of agreement from them, she turned and headed into the cabin.
With that apparently decided, everyone went back to their soft private conversations or silence. Filbo went back to focusing on steering the ship. He’d never been the best pilot but if the weather continued to hold fair he could probably get them back to the mainland in a couple more days, depending on how long and how often he ended up resting for.
When he got there though, to keep the bugsnax a secret, he wouldn’t be able to go home. … That was fine, he’d already decided with Buddy that he was going to stick with them. He could wait a few weeks to visit his family until the snakifcation wore off. And during that time he’d ensure Buddy rested tons and got plenty to eat and didn’t run about the place nearly 24/7 or splash around in freezing cold water. For once, he was going to take care of them whether they liked it or not. And then maybe once his snakification had worn off he could introduce them to his family. And then Budd could…
“You still don’t want anything to do with the egg, right?”
He looked up to see Gramble had approached the wheel. “Huh?”
“The egg. We’re trying to figure out what do with it now that we ain’t all going to be living in the same town no more. Of course we’ll have to talk to Triffany and Wambus about it too but for now, we’ve decided we’re all going to hole up in Wiggle’s mansion until the snakification wears off everyone else and then decide what to do with it after that. But I figured since it’s biologically yours and Buddy’s we should ask you too. Since you know, initially you at least were going to still see it and the grumpling around and stuff since we were all living real close together but now that’s not the case so… just wanted to ask if you want anything to do with it.”
“Oh uh… I’d rather not have any part in raising or watching it or being any kind of responsible for it general, if that’s what you mean. Maybe when the kid’s older I can act like their uncle or something. Just… don’t tell them I’m their biological parent, please.” That was not the kind of responsibility or pressure he wanted right now or any time in the near future, or perhaps ever. Buddy seemed pretty adamant about not having kids at any point and Filbo was okay with that idea. So maybe they could be one of those childless couples that a lot of the older generations liked to hate on. His parents weren’t going to like that but this wasn’t about them.
“All right.” Gramble almost seemed to sigh. “I still don’t get that mindset but… I guess if it makes you happy then…”
“Buddy’s not waking up.”
Filbo snapped his attention over to Triffany, standing holding the cabin door open. “Uh… hold the wheel for a bit, please Gramble.”
“W-why me?” he stammered but took the wheel as Filbo stepped away.
Ignoring him, Filbo went straight to Triffany, following her into the cabin. “What do you mean Buddy’s not waking up?”
It was Wambus who answered though. “She means they ain’t waking up.” He was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the rear wall next where Buddy still lay, their backpack under their head. “We tried everything but they ain’t even stirring a bit.”
“W-well they’re just really tired, right? They’ll be fine in a few hours.” Because they had to be after everything else, they’d survived.
Triffany gave him concerned look. “Perhaps. I’m worried though. If they continue not waking up then eventually… you know.”
“Well then… if… if they’re not awake and better by the time we reach the mainland then we’re taking them straight to the ER even if that means we can’t keep our snakification a secret.” Before she or Wambus could try to voice a protest, he turned and left, pulling the cabin door closed again, barely refraining from slamming.
“Is Buddy okay?” Gramble asked as Filbo returned, taking the wheel from him.
“No but… but I can’t do anything except get them back to land faster.” And he wasn’t going to rest until he’d done so.
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sorry-apsalar · 3 years
Text
Why Wouldn’t I Be Okay?
This was inspired by a post I saw here on Tumblr that I would link if I could find it again but I can't. Anyway the post said something along the lines of 'imagine Bender recording Fry's voice to replay it to himself later. Now imagine him replaying it long after Fry had passed away'. It was supposed to have been a drabble but it ended up being 2k words long (my own fault for the choice of one of memories I decided to include) instead.
~
“Wait, you’re the only friend I have.”
Bender paused, turning to look back at Fry. “You really want a robot for a friend?” There was no way that could be true because what human in their right mind wanted to be friends with a robot?
“Yeah, ever since I was six.” He looked and sounded completely honest. Bender would’ve suspected it was an attempt at a cruel trick if it wasn’t for the fact Fry had just got done mistaking a suicide booth for a place to make phone calls and not realized the mistake until it had almost killed him; no way someone that stupid could fake being genuine so well. Meaning not only did he want a robot as a friend, he’d already decided that the two of them were friends. … Bender had never had a friend before so…
“Well okay, But I don’t want people thinking we’re robo-sexuals so if anyone asks, you’re my debugger.” Why not give this whole friendship thing a go? If it didn’t work out or he got bored of it, the suicide booth would still be there.
Bender sighed as he stopped the recording. It was crazy how much his life had changed that day all thanks to his chance encounter with Fry and then on a whim deciding to agree with Fry’s decision that they were friends. It wasn’t often he cared to take time to appreciate that but today was certainly a good day for it. … It was a good day for a lot of things.
The heater elements made him run uncomfortably hot and slowed down his other systems a bit but it was nowhere near bad enough to risk damage or automatic shutdown. A little bit of discomfort was worth it because his plan had worked; Fry had cuddled up to him without argument, complaint, or even much hesitation.
Fry was soft and squishy pressed up against Bender’s side. With an arm wrapped so firmly around him, Bender could feel his breathing. It was slowing and evening out as the last of the tension melted from his body. A quick furtive glance revealed that his eyes were closed now too; he was sleeping or in the process of falling asleep. Which wasn’t surprising the cold that had settled in their apartment after Bender had gutted the space heater had woken him several hours earlier than normal, especially for their day off. But it was still nice to see he was comfortable enough with Bender to fall asleep so quickly while they were cuddling like this. If only this could be a regular thing. …
Oh fuck, Bender was hopelessly in love, wasn’t he? Though he probably should’ve realized that upon coming up with this plan and deciding to do it, huh? Not that it mattered how or why he realized because…
Bender pulled himself out the memory. Looking back on it now, he almost couldn’t believe how he’d been so thoroughly convinced that there was no hope of that love being reciprocated. Him and Fry were basically the perfect match.
“I like you for you,” Fry said looking directly at Bender. “You’re great and you’re my best friend. And I love spending time with you whether we’re off on a space adventure or just lazing around the apartment watching TV together. So, I’d like to be more than just friends if that’s what you want too. If not, that’s… okay too, I’d understand.”
Bender did want that even if he’d never dared to actually hope for it. Before he said ‘yes’ though… “Oh, hmmm… what else do you like about me?” There was no way he could ever pass up an opportunity to make Fry say more nice things about him.
“You’re always fun to talk to and you’ve got great ideas for ways to pass the time when we’re bored. And even though you steal my wallet all the time, you always give it back eventually. And you’re a robot and that’s still super cool even if I’m used to robots by now because you were the first one I met and I wasn’t lying when I said I’d always wanted a robot for a best friend. So really by being my pal, you’re fulfilling a lifelong dream of mine. I’ve never thought about dating one before now though, it just never occurred to me until after that uh… kiss experiment we did.”
“Go on.”
Fry gave him a slightly annoyed look that only increased Bender’s enjoyment of the moment. “You’re also very confident, especially in yourself. And you’re also super strong, you can bend metal like it’s made of paper which is super cool. And sometimes you use that strength to open jars for me and sometimes you don’t even make fun of me for not being able to open it myself. Also, even despite our occasional disagreements, we always make up eventually and then we’re friends again like nothing ever happened and… that’s really nice. So… will you go out with me?” He held a hand out towards Bender, offering it.
Ah shit, Bender couldn’t drag this out any longer, could he? He wasn’t programmed to be able to handle emotional situations, heck he wasn’t programmed to have emotions at all. How did he say ‘yes’ without coming off as awkward and desperate? Or without fucking up his chances some other way? ... He had to say or do something! …
“Well, if you’re going to butter me up that much, I suppose we can go on one date and see what happens.” He couldn’t help but look away as he put his hand in Fry’s. That hadn’t exactly come out how he would’ve…
Fry’s grip on Bender’s hand tighter as he yanked him closer. “Can I kiss you again? For real this time, not just as an experiment?” Their bodies were very close now, enough that he could’ve just done it without asking. He didn’t even need to as far was Bender was concerned.
“I just agreed to go on a date with you meatbag, what do you think?”
Fry didn’t do it though, nor did he say anything. He was far too cute and sweet for his own good. It was endearing though.
Bender sighed. “Yes moron, you can kiss me again.”
Finally Fry kissed him again. His lips were warm and soft, an odd sensation but a pleasant one. And just like last time it was over before Bender was really ready for it to be.
“Better than last time?” Fry asked, his face flushing a little.
“A little.” And the first one had already been pretty good, even if Bender would never admit to it.
If only Bender could actually relive any of these moments. The visuals and audio were crystal clear and his recall of his emotions and internal thoughts were also recorded perfectly but it was still just a memory that he was choosing to play the full recording of in his head. No matter how much he wished he could sink into them as if they were happening in real time, he couldn’t. With another useless sigh, he started playing the next one.
As casually as he physically could, Bender strode over to stand by Fry as he hosed down the ship.
Fry turned his head to look at him with a smile. “I didn’t think you’d show up again until after the ship was done being cleaned.”
Bender hadn’t known that that was happening otherwise he would’ve stayed hidden for a while longer. “Eh, it’s whatever, Leela’s not around to order me to help so I don’t have to. But uh… I have a gift for you.”
Fry gave him a skeptical look. “It’s not another thing you stole that you’re giving to me so I get in trouble instead of you, is it?”
“Nope and for once I actually mean that. I did steal it though. But it was a while ago, I doubt anyone cares anymore so you probably won’t get in trouble for having it.”
He didn’t look completely convinced but after a couple seconds hesitation, Fry shrugged as he placed the hose on the ground and turned to face Bender fully. “All right then, what is it?”
Already in his hand and hidden behind his back, Bender pulled out the ring box. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he flipped open the lid so that Fry could see the big fancy ring inside. “Will you marry me?”
His eyes widening, Fry gasped. “I uh… yes, yes of course!”
Bender had expected a ‘yes’ – why wouldn’t Fry want to marry him? – but the enthusiasm was appreciated. Being excited about it was maybe a bit silly but -
“You okay Bender?”
With a jolt, Bender stopped the recording and opened his eyes. Cubert and Dwight hovered in front of him with worried expressions. Which just wasn’t right because they looked like their fathers now – especially Cubert because he was clone – neither of whom had ever been concerned about Bender, or at least not enough to look at him like that. How their sons had grown up to be such softies was a mystery, an annoying one.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Bender didn’t bother getting up from the couch in hopes that they’d leave soon.
“Well,” Cubert said, “You stayed overnight at work again. That’s not something people who are okay typically do.”
“Or maybe I just arrived before you did.” Bender had meant to leave the breakroom and head to probably the basement instead before they’d arrived but they’d just had to come in an hour early.
Dwight sighed and shook his head. “Also, according to my records it’s the one-year anniversary of… well… uh… you know. So it makes sense that you’re not okay, especially today.”
The one-year anniversary of Fry’s death. By some miracle he’d been the last to go, outliving even Leela by almost two whole years. It had been inevitable though, even modern science could only keep him alive for so long. And thus Bender had known it was coming from the very start and had seen all their friends die one by one… he’d never been ready to face it though, still wasn’t.
Despite that, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s been a year, I’m over it. Meatbags die, it’s one of the things they’re most known for. So I’m over all their deaths, including and especially his.”
Neither of them believed him. In fact, they looked at him with even more sadness and worry than before as if he were some poor lonely sap to be pitied. “It’s okay to grieve,” Cubert said. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it, we miss him and everyone else too. And we know how much you two loved each other.”
Dwight looked like he was going to say something in agreement but before he could get a single annoying word out, Bender stood up. “I have work to do.” He went past them and left the room, heading for the ship hanger.
Only one of the two company ships were in. The other was due to return sometime today and when it did, the team crewing it would probably have something for him to do. If not and probably if so as well, he’d be sure to be part of the crew going on the next mission because he needed the distraction. Hopefully it’d be a long one too so he’d have an excuse to continue to not return to his empty apartment.
Ugh, he was actually looking to do work for once and hoping it’d take a long time. That’s how far he’d fallen this past year. … He could delete his memories of Fry and all his friends – he even missed Zoidberg and Scruffy, something he never would’ve predicted. It’d hurt so much less if he did. With help he could even delete them so thoroughly that he wouldn’t even know anything had been deleted.
But… meeting and befriending Fry had irrevocably changed his life.  Those memories not only included his happiest, they were also the majority of his life at this point. What would he be like if he did delete them? … Impossible to say and… he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. So… for now, he’d continue to live with them and continue to hope that maybe one day they’d hurt less.
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invalid-request · 3 years
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So, this week I got rejected at work by a guy I liked, and you know what, I actually feel pretty good.
It's kinda shocking though because this guy was CREEPILY obsessed with me. When N first got hired, it started innocently enough, just looking at me a lot and sometimes trying to give me a nod. One time I was in the break area and he sat right near me (plenty of other places to sit) but he didn't say anything. Then I started to notice he was just almost always looking at me all the time. I'd see him on my side (I don't think he accounted for peripheral vision) and when I'd look, he'd quickly look away. Three times he even dropped what he was holding, damaged a product once! 😅 After some time, he stopped looking away so quickly and let me catch him staring, and he'd hold eye contact for a moment before looking away. Like he wanted me to know that he liked me?
This went on for MONTHS AND MONTHS, him just staring at me every shift while we worked in our separate departments. Kinda lucky for him to be fixated on me of all people, because anybody else would have been incredibly creeped out. But I get fixated on people I like too, so I could totally understand. It was very flattering.
Eventually, he made friends in his own department, but instead of moving on and focusing on them, he started to spend the first half of his shift staring at me and the second half with his friends. Like, I was still priority number one for some reason. 🤷
I remember a couple times he took time off from work, which meant he wouldn't see me that week, but instead of just waiting until the next week, he actually came into the store as a customer. And of course he just happened to browse the aisle in front of my department for a while, looking over at me multiple times. One time he was at the deli, which is super far away and facing the opposite direction. But still partially within eyeline. He had to stand in a very specific spot, and he had to face completely away from the deli to stare at me. No plausible deniability at all.
As weird as it was, I'm a fucking weirdo too, and I actually really liked the attention. He made me feel wanted. I totally had feelings for him of some sort. It's weird because he's not the kind of person who would typically catch my eye (neither in terms of personality nor physical appearance), but he made me feel all sorts of warm emotions. And I was in love with the consistency; he was there day after day; every time I thought "there's no way he still likes me," he still showed up. Never abandoning me, I could always depend on him to cheer me up and remind me that at least 1 person likes me.
What I didn't understand was, why didn't he talk to me? As he started to come out of his shell, I saw that his personality was basically a social butterfly. He talked to literally everybody. Even people in other departments. But not me. I was kind of offended to be honest. Maybe he was too anxious around me specifically?
Well, he did make some efforts beyond just staring, but those efforts were few and far between. There were a couple times where he would try to give me a nod, but I had already looked away (I still had peripheral vision) and I saw him get frustrated. I changed my aesthetic a few months ago and he told me that it was fire. He initiated a few other interactions, but all just natural-seeming stuff like asking me to grab a crate for him or whatever, as if he could pretend we didn't both know he'd been staring at me for months. Maybe he was trying every "natural" way he knew to connect, but since we didn't work in the same department, there wasn't any small talk to build from.
I think he might have showed me to his dad, too. On one of the days he was at the store as a customer, he and his dad came to my department and were standing pretty close to where I was. N dared not face my direction, but his dad had no such qualms and stood facing my direction. (I just kept working, but I was noticing them in my peripheral vision.) "Is that him?" I clearly heard N's dad say not-so-quietly. N responded very quietly, and I couldn't hear the rest of their conversation.
I also think he might have told his friends about me. One day, he and his friends were talking a whole lot more than usual, and I figured out that they'd just had a party the previous night (and N wished they'd had more whiskey! 🙄). Beginning that day and for the next couple of weeks, his two closest friends started to look at me a lot, for no discernible reason. What the heck did N say when he was drunk?
One day, I kinda got fed up with it, because the whole thing was so fucking stupid. Like, okay guy, if you're not gonna talk to me then leave me alone. I don't really need somebody staring at me while I'm trying to work. When he showed up to stare at me, I paid him no acknowledgement at all. The whole day. Toward the end of our shift, I think he started to realize it wasn't a coincidence, and suddenly I couldn't go anywhere without him being there, like he'd entered desperation mode. But I still wouldn't look at him. At the very end of the night, when it came time to clock out, there was a crowd hanging out near the time clock, and he and his friends were all there. When I began to approach the machine, he nearly pushed his friends over to get to the front of the pack, right next to the machine, where I would have to see him. And he just stood there and looked at me like 🥺. To be honest, I found that kind of adorable and it won me back over. I didn't care how dumb it was anymore. Why was he giving me so much time and attention?
Eventually, I decided to stop waiting for him to talk to me, and for me to approach him instead. He might be a good person to have in my life. Since he liked me so much, he'd probably put effort into whatever kind of relationship we might develop and it could be good. Even though he wasn't really my type, that might be a good thing — abuse victims like myself tend to subconsciously gravitate toward people who are like their abusers, so maybe it was good to branch out to a type of person I wouldn't normally gravitate to.
What would I say to him, though? Definitely not some smalltalk bullshit like "how's the weather". That's performative and wouldn't really lead where I wanted. (In fact, I actually did once ask him "how's work"; the resulting exchange was barely even worth remembering.) I also didn't wanna just plainly mention the staring because he might feel embarrassed or attacked. I wanted us to get to know each other and see if there was any connection, that's what I wanted. But in-person clearly wasn't working out because of anxiety and us being in different departments, so what I ultimately landed on was this: I'd ask for his Snap, and we could text.
It was actually way fucking harder than I could've imagined, by the way. I tried week after week and kept discovering new mental hang-ups, and processing them and working through them. ("I'm not good enough", "You can't just walk up to someone and ask that!", "I'm gonna blank or say the wrong thing", "Why can't he do it instead", etc.) And even after I'd successfully convinced myself, mentally, that I should do it and that I wanted to do it, my body literally wouldn't obey. Immense anxiety bubbled in my chest and my body was just like nah. 🙅‍♂️ I tried breathing exercises and other stuff - it was difficult.
But yeah I finally, finally did it. This week, he was working on Tuesday, and he was just absolutely fucking stalking me. Within one hour I caught him staring at me three separate times, from three different vantage points. The third one was even creepy because he was off to the side, and I don't know how long he was looking; it made me kinda jump. So before I left for the day, I walked up to him with determination, overcame my nerves and managed to recite my script:
"Hey, N"
"Hey"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah"
"Do you wanna, like, talk on Snapchat?"
He sure as fuck wasn't expecting that. But he was smiling. "... yeah"
And he gave me his Snapchat. (It was an amazing feeling, by the way. Surreal. I kept expecting to wake up. I did it!)
So I don't know what the fuck happened. When I got home I added him and just sent "hey man how are you?" But he never responded. He didn't see my message because he didn't even add me back! I have no idea why.
There's just not any valid excuse. The username was correct. If he wanted to talk, he would have. I fucking handed him this on a silver platter.
So I guess he didn't want to talk? Then wtf did he want all this time, why has he been staring at me for months and months? Was he just objectifying me? That doesn't make sense—he wasn't just looking, he was trying to get my attention as well. Maybe the appeal is gone now that he feels like he has me? I don't know. It's so weird. I don't get it.
I felt pretty broken at first. This guy has been a part of my life for a while now, in his own weird way. I liked him a lot. I was really attached. I kinda had hopes that maybe we could have had something together. Now that hope is gone. I'll miss our little game.
But I think I've processed this loss in a healthy way. Now I'm mostly just relieved that that whole situation is over. It was a little much. I feel free. Rejection feels so much better than the wondering "what if". And I'm so happy and proud of myself for accomplishing something, and I hope I'll continue to use the skills I developed to approach people more often as I move forward in life.
It's gonna be weird the next time we see each other. I hope he knows he needs to leave me tf alone now. It was endearing before, when I thought he was just too nervous to talk to me, but now it would be creepy to continue. I'm a little scared of him to be honest, now that I realize I might have been wrong about his true motives. 😬 If he keeps leering at me I'll confront him, and if I have to, I can go to HR. 🤷‍♀️😕
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Vesbud First Meeting
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“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened, besides, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?.”
Everyone knows and loves a meet-cute, but our favorite space lesbian moms had a meet-violent. For femslash February, an elaboration of the scene described in Vespa’s wedding vows with some of the author's artistic license thrown in.
co-written with @chobiwolf​
It had been a rough day for Vespa after a rough couple years. She’d managed to get a good steal in and had enough of a score in her pocket to drink the next two nights away without any concerns. It beat the previous few months of staying out of the way of any law authorities, it definitely beat being thrown in prison, only to be released by that...she shook her head, she couldn’t get caught up in dreaming about that near-magical laugh that would creep into the corners of her mind at any moment she wasn’t otherwise occupied.
The bar was nice, nicer than Vespa had any right to, but it was the only place that had a transport lift and at the moment, Vespa was out of any mode of transportation sturdier than a hijacked hovercycle. The number of people packed into the room, the walls practically shaking with the beat of the music being blasted over the hidden speakers hid the gangly woman easily out of the way in a corner to avoid judgemental glares of patrons dripping in the finest of venusian silks and velvets.
Buddy Aurinko thought she'd find her mark here, or a drink at the very least. Even though it had been years since the prison break, Buddy spotted her the moment she walked into the bar. Vespa Ilkay looked the same. It was like years of crime and a hard life hadn't done a thing to knock her down. This was a whipcord of a woman with a shock of razor cut green hair. She may have been huddled over a drink but she radiated fierceness. That quality was exactly what Buddy was here for. That... or a large sum of money and a drink with a cute girl. This was really win-win for her.
She slid into the seat beside Vespa, a drink in hand already. "Can I buy your next round, darling?"
Vespa jumped, face heating up when she realized that someone had managed to sneak up from behind, her hand going to a knife at her side before she laid eyes on the most beautiful woman in the whole damn galaxy. That same woman placed a tentative hand on the arm that had started to shift back to what was, undoubtedly, a knife.
“Oh uh, you don’t have to do that, I can pay my own way even if I don’t look like it.” was the stuttered reply, flicking her eyes over the frankly impressive form sitting next to her. “But I wouldn’t be opposed if you were to join me?”
"No, no, I won't hear of it, and I never repeat myself so don't make me ask again." Her demeanor was not overly friendly. But she angled herself towards the woman in a way that put their shoulders close enough to feel the heat coming off of eachother. "Why, I'm of the opinion that a dashing woman such as yourself should never have to buy herself a drink again." With her smile and the near panic in Vespa’s eyes, Buddy realized she would have to try and smooth things over quickly to prevent a bolt from the bar.
"So what do you say to one round? Your drink looks a bit more like salad than alcohol and I happen to know a few good options around here." She did a once over of the bar seemingly opening herself to a blindspot and making her appear a bit more genuine, though most of what she said was exactly the truth. Oh the trouble she could cause with this one… "Bartender!" A grizzled person who looked like they had less compassion than a swarm of rangian mosquitoes took her order, "Yes, and two of those please, one extra strong for the lucky lady. Oh, and in case it’s not clear: mine should be the strong one since I do seem to be a very lucky lady." She winked at Vespa.
Vespa should’ve kept a higher guard up. She shouldn’t have so readily allowed this woman to completely disarm her, but boy, this woman, this woman was the prettiest, fastest talking, most vivacious human she had never seen. The blush never quite left her face.
"So what brings you to this fine establishment?” Buddy gestured a bit vaguely to their surroundings.
Vespa’s hand didn’t quite leave her knife, but her shoulders lost the tension that had been carried there since she first sat down hours ago. She wouldn’t consider herself one for romance, but this woman....this woman could convince her that maybe a little wouldn’t be too bad. She’d never gotten a drink bought for herself before, and stared with eyes wide in surprise. “Uh just, you know, a place to hang around. What about you? You look like you belong here more than I do. Like I should be watching you in a stream, not, not have you next to me here.”
A bright laugh bubbled out of Buddy. She had never been a stranger to compliments, but she turned quickly to grab their drinks as a distraction from the slight heat she felt flush in her cheeks.
"Here we are! And who knows maybe I am on some stream somewhere," she smiled knowing it was likely Neptune's most wanted or something to that effect, "but I've certainly found this place just as cozy as you have.” The bar was probably the opposite of cozy, it would be listed in the dictionary with the word ostentatious.
“Perhaps even more so since there definitely wasn't a pretty girl at the bar when you came in." She put on a bit of drama, "Oh my, unless there was! Look at me: I've known you for 10 minutes and already a homewrecker. The shame of it! Well, I say shame but I can't actually find a single iota of it in me. So tell me, are you, in fact, here with someone, darling?" She paused to take in Vespa desperately trying to keep up with her manic speech. Buddy sipped from her drink to keep herself from talking more. Maybe she was a bit more nervous than normal. Marks weren't normally this— well this adorable, this dashing, this capable! That last one she was about to test.
Vespa cleared her throat, voice suddenly raspy with nerves. “No. Uh, no, just, just me here.” This woman really did talk a lot and her own head was slightly spinning. “I think I prefer the seat occupied by you instead of it being empty.” She attempted to flirt, cringing slightly at herself at how awkward it sounded. “Uh, Sorry, I didn’t catch your name. It’s gotta be as pretty as you?”
Buddy flashed a smile at her, wide and genuine at Vespa's incredibly honest way of flirting. "The name's Buddy," here she leaned in close and whispered, "and since you aren't here with anyone at the moment, would you like to be, miss…?" she trailed off hoping the other would also supply her name. By now the two of them had slid much closer and the hand she originally had on her knife arm had moved up to the woman’s far shoulder.
“Ilkay.” Vespa blurted out, cheeks tinged a deeper pink still. “Vespa Ilkay. Nice to meet you Buddy.” Her skin was covered in pinpricks where Buddy’s arm was around her, like every single nerve was standing on their head. She felt hot and hoped that she didn’t seem as nervous as she felt. Buddy was leaning in so close that it was like there were only two of them in the whole world.
"Vespa Ilkay…" Buddy knew that name, and she knew ultimately why she had come to 'run into' her, and yet here, face to face, she felt a nagging almost-girlhood crush from her 'tag along with dad to work days'. None-the-less the words slipped off her tongue like silk and she found her drink abandoned as she focused on the woman's face. All harsh, strong edges, and softening honest blush. Hair knocked loose from its gelled, spiked style by the constant shaking head and flustered denial of compliments.
She just couldn’t help herself, what was a little more distraction for one night after all? She brushed Vespa's hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her other hand had come to rest comfortably at the middle of Vespa's back now, trailing lazy circles with her thumbnail. "Why, darling you look positively feverish!" For emphasis she put the back of her hand on Vespa's forehead, "Hm, well I'm no doctor, but maybe another drink would cool you down? Or… maybe you want to get out of this place with me? I could show you an exciting time to be sure.”
Vespa would have passed out right then and there, Buddy's voice like a purr in her ears. She could’ve died and been perfectly happy. The hand on her back felt like it was shooting electric currents into her spine. The only way to make sure she didn’t melt into more of a mess was by running through in her head all the most easily breakable bones in the human body. She ran a hand through her hair, unable to imagine that this was real, it must be impossible, she had to be dreaming.
“I’m fine, I’ll just need a moment.” She straightened up her back, going-anywhere with Buddy sounded amazing. But no, she couldn’t. That was too much. “I’ll get out of here eventually.”
Buddy leaned back and the previous closeness had her wearing quite a dark flush herself. She felt the heat in her face and rather hoped it didn't clash with her hair. A ridiculous thought, one that made it clear that she was flustered herself, though she'd never admit it. She reeled herself in. She was a bit dismayed the rest of her night would not be spent with a companion, but the evening was not a total loss: there still was the money she was here to steal, now, there was just the matter of actually taking it.
Buddy breathed in and looked around trying to feign a bit of embarrassment, eyes cast down with a demure flutter of eyelashes. "I hope you'll forgive me for being so forward. It's not often I come across a lady like you." She looked up, making purposeful eye contact with a visibly flustered Vespa.
"Miss Vespa Ilkay, I do hope we see each other again." She leaned so far forward she saw the panic from the other that this was a kiss. It was not. Her lips brushed the other woman's cheek and she whispered, "Sooner rather than later if you can." She did then press a chaste kiss to Vespa's jawline as she slid out of her seat leaving a hint of brilliant red in her wake. The close contact made it easy to slip the card from Vespa's pocket into her own hand. She stood up fully and cleared her throat. "I do believe I may need to go to the powder room though, so... dear?" She turned Vespa's face to her own delicately, "Do take care of yourself."
Buddy went to the restroom of the bar that she knew had a broken window and a solid escape plan. She had left behind merely one thing besides the lipstick on Vespa's face. One thing in the form of a note written on a napkin. It would probably take Vespa a while to notice it if she noticed it at all. But it read as follows:
Wonderful doing business, darling. Sorry those drinks ended up being so expensive for you. But I did not lie to you, I do want to see you again…. If you can catch me.
--Buddy Aurinko
Vespa Ilkay was love struck. There was no other way to put it. She sat with her drink in her hands, once again staring down at the countertop, but this time, with a fond little smile on her face.
She was convinced that never before had anyone captured any heart so quickly as Buddy had wormed her way into her brain. There wasn’t anything more Vespa wanted than to drag her off to that damn washroom she said she was headed and kiss their brains out against the door, an activity she hadn’t felt motivated to do with anyone before. She looked down at her hand where it had dabbed at the mark on her cheek, a perfect mirror of Buddy’s lips in the palm of her hand. The red lipstick seemed to glow against her own skin.
20 minutes later and the bartender was glaring at her and making snarky comments about buy another or get the fuck out.
Vespa wasn’t particularly looking forward to going to find some dark corner to fall asleep in, but if it had to be done it had to be done. She reached into her pocket for her score to pay for all her drinks and she froze. It was gone. All of it. All that was left was a damn note. She cursed aloud. Scanning over the note, she then cursed her dumb heart for stupidly skipping a beat, dammit, even Buddy’s damn handwriting was gorgeous. Thankfully, there were just enough creds to pay for both their fucking drinks stuffed into her boot she could use. It now meant though that she would have no safety net if something were to go wrong, or even another way off the planet.
She stormed out of the bar, figuring that damn woman couldn’t have gotten far. She went towards the more crowded, better lit part of town. Aurinko clearly knew what she was doing. And someone as fabulous as her could blend in among a crowd more easily than in the dark and shadows. Finally, after what felt like forever of running, she spotted a shock of bright red hair at the opposite end of the street and started to push people out of her way as she was running towards her.
Meanwhile, Buddy slipped through the crowds like a fish through water. She flipped the card a few times in her hands before pocketing it in a holster on her thigh. Sure she turned a few heads here and there but she knew how to disappear when she wanted. Right now she was a bit careless though, having just wooed a pretty lady and gotten the score of the decade, and with barely any work on her part.
Suddenly, she heard a disturbance behind her and glanced back to see that same vivid green hair poke out through the crowd as Vespa not so much ran as plowed her way through the crowd. Buddy smirked, my this one did catch on fast didn't she? Buddy broke into a sprint and rounded a corner into an abandoned alleyway. She only stopped there briefly to remove her heels to make her tracks harder to follow as she crossed through to another backstreet.
The alley Buddy disappeared down of course connected to another side street that Vespa cursed out everyone who had ever worked on it from their first to last breaths of their lives. Her thick boots kept her from completely falling over as she made the sharp turns necessary and though she lost easy sight of the red hair that she had before, she managed to spy it again part way down the next street. “AURINKO!” She shouted off after Buddy, heads turning to look at what the commotion was. A sober Vespa would not have brought so much attention to herself, or to her target. A sober Vespa could slide between people and shadows with not so much as a whisper of clothing brushing against each other. Knives could disappear into backs before the glint of steel was seen, bodies would hit the floor, dead from poison before taste was processed by the tongue. But now, Vespa Ilkay was on a manhunt, willing to slash and burn in a fight against Buddy Aurinko. So,it was normally not a very good thing to draw attention to oneself if you were trying to stay unnoticed, but she wasn’t letting her get away with her score and only way off this miserable planet.
Buddy smiled to herself as she turned another sharp corner into an alley that would take her up a side fire escape and up out of Vespa's reach. But when she got there the stairs were out of sight. A quick glance around showed her their charred remains clinging half-heartedly to the building's side above her. She heard Vespa yell her name and knew she had no time to escape.
“Shit."
Profanity did not become her and she certainly would refrain more were she in anyone's company, but as it was she had no one around to hear her… Thank goodness for that. Though that would not be the case soon. She didn't have a blaster on her and she really would rather not use that on Vespa anyway, so she drew her knife from one of her many thigh holsters and readied herself for a fight.
Turning the corner, Vespa skidded to a stop, knife drawn already and barely caught herself from falling over from the sudden cease of movement when she saw Buddy trapped there at the end of the alley. She grinned, the expression dark and proud, teeth looking more like razors. This was a woman who had fought through blood and liked it.
“Aurinko. You’ve got something of mine. I’d like it back. How about you toss it here and we forget this ever happened.” Buddy looked to be illuminated from the shaft of light spilling over the buildings around her, making her hair look like flames. She still looked strong and steadfast, Vespa knew that this fight wouldn’t be as easy as it may have appeared to be, and only one of them would be walking out of that alley. And Vespa was willing to place money that it was going to be herself.
"I'm afraid that won't be happening today, darling." Buddy flashed a grin of her own, winsome and daring. She took the opportunity then to throw her heels at the woman who not only held an impressive dagger but was glaring them at her as well. Vespa rushed at her. Despite the small space, Buddy was able to parry and roll to her left, deftly avoiding the attack. This was certainly the most fun she had had in years.
The heels were certainly a clever ruse, but Vespa ducked them, internally tsk-ing that they were going to get scratched, Buddy didn’t seem like the kind of person to do that to her clothes, not that Vespa cared, of course.
The run at Buddy still left Vespa with her back to the entrance, she wasn’t born yesterday of course. But she couldn’t help but admire how cleanly Buddy dodged her knife. Nothing that could be considered aggressive was being done yet, they were still circling, feeling the other out.
“Those are my creds, not yours.Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to steal from the less fortunate?” She made another quick swipe at Buddy’s bust line which forced her to take a hop back, though still with plenty of room between them.
Buddy laughed breathlessly at the exhilaration of their fight. They were both so evenly matched that it was more dance than confrontation. She hadn’t felt like this since the day she ruined her fathers prison, just because she could. The day she had first seen Vespa Ilkay.
In her distraction, Vespa got the drop on Buddy and tackled her. Getting the wind knocked out of her chest stunned Buddy enough that when she regained her concentration a split second later, Vespa’s very sharp blade was at her throat, and she felt a small trickle of blood run down the nape of her neck. She still had a hand on her own knife though, and she angled the blade up towards the woman on top of her. She couldn't help but start laughing again, breathless, overtaken, and evenly matched. She looked into the woman’s eyes above her as she tapped the blade to her abdomen.
Vespa was about ready to drive the knife through her, not enough to kill her, someone so beautiful didn’t deserve that. But it was just so she could take her creds and go, but that laugh. It floored her.
She knew that laugh. That was the laugh that saved her. The fiery shock of red hair she only managed to get a glimpse of when she ran.
The starstruck woman didn’t even notice the knife running along her side, a dangerous position she would never allow anyone to get her into in any other situation. The thin blade lightly skimming over her shirt next to her skin sent shivers down her spine. Just, Buddy’s eyes. They were like pools she could get lost in.
It was the most unattractive, ungraceful thing that. Just-just staring down at the woman beneath her, mouth agape. “You-you were the one at the prison. You saved me.” Vespa collapsed one side to roll off of Buddy, still staring at her in shock, unable to process what just happened.
Buddy breathed a sigh of relief as Vespa rolled off of her, and they both lay there on the dusty ground of the alleyway, staring at an alien sky.
“I suppose I was, and I did.” Her voice was nostalgic and drawn out.
She pulled the card with Vespa’s score stored in it from her hoster and held it up above them, an outlined rectangle dangling from elegant fingers standing out against the artificial atmosphere, “Well, we seem to be doing all right for ourselves solo, but don’t you think we’d be better as a pair?” She smirked. Buddy turned her head to face the other woman and smiled at her, no wit, no false charm, but completely genuine and a little vulnerable.
Vespa’s heart still sounded like it was beating in her ears, dazed. Her eyes flitted to the card held in the air above them. She could just reach out and take it, but she didn’t want to, it was like it would break the dream she was in. A minute passed, no sound was heard but their still heavy breathing and the faint sounds of people talking, a car driving by, the headlights casting shadows down the alley. “So?” Buddy asked again, “How about that offer to get out of this boring old dump with me?”
Vespa squeezed her eyes shut, making sure she wasn’t dreaming for the second time that night when her brain caught up to her ears. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds— that sounds great.” Vespa’s eyes opened and she turned her head to look back at Buddy. Somehow, Buddy looked even more radiant than before. Just so hopeful and full of life, like with her, the two of them had the entire universe at their fingertips. “I think a partner in crime could be good.”
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thepancakeboi · 4 years
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118. “Forget the douche. He’s a dick. He’s a dickdouche.”
Divergence AU Part IV
Previous | Next (coming 10/17) | AU list | Prompt source
Fanfic under cut
11/22
Leader of the Phantom Thieves Commits Suicide in Custody
No, he hasn’t. The headlines are wrong. He’s alive-
They’re wrong, but he’s not alive. You killed him.
That’s wrong! He didn’t die, I’m sure of it.
No, you shot him in the head! He didn’t survive.
It was a fake. It was Sae’s cognition of him. It wasn’t him!
Sure about that?
Yes. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t acting like he normally does. He would have-
He was drugged, you fool. He’s as good as dead.
“Shut up!”
I sigh, closing my eyes and pushing away the pages of unfinished work as I lean further back in my chair. I hadn’t meant to yell that out loud. These past few days have been...rough, to put it mildly. No one should have to shoot their friend in the head and pretend to enjoy it. The memories are still fresh in my mind. I couldn’t give a shit if the guard had actually died or not, but Ren...
I’ve continuously told myself that everything worked, that he’s still a part of this world. The rational part of my brain tells me otherwise. There had been so much blood...and that fearful look on his face...
He only looked like that because he realized that we failed.
All I want to do is scream if only to silence the voices in my head. Maintaining the charade for so long is taking its toll on me. I open my eyes as I feel something wet sliding down my cheeks.
Am I...crying?
I wipe the tears and the moisture away, disgusted with myself. I can’t let myself cry. Crying is a form of weakness. You can’t let your feelings show like that. It’ll simply get you killed in the end.
This isn’t getting me anywhere. I shove myself to my feet, hastily grabbing my briefcase as I leave my apartment. What I need right now is a delicious cup of coffee and confirmation that my rival/friend/potential love interest managed to cheat death after all.
The hour it takes me to get from Kichijoji to Leblanc in Yongen-Jaya seems to drag on and on. It’s a relief when I finally arrive at the familiar back-alley cafe. The little bell jingles as I enter. There’s no sign of Ren. “Sorry, we’re closing for-” Sojiro starts to say, only to stop when he sees it’s me. “Oh, it’s you.”
“My apologies for coming so late into the evening,” I respond, my voice a little louder than necessary in the desperate hopes that Ren is still alive and will hear me. “I hope you don’t mind, but could I-”
My words are interrupted by someone barreling down the stairs and nearly tackling me as he pulls me into a hug. “I lived,” a familiar voice whispers in my ear, sounding very smug for someone who just cheated death.
“Ren...” I gently push him away, wanting to verify for myself that it’s truly him. Unless the black-haired, gray-eyed boy holding onto me is an extremely convincing replica, it’s definitely Ren Amamiya. He looks remarkably well for someone who had been beaten up and drugged by the police. The very thought of it still pisses me off. We hadn’t expected anything like that, and it really could have messed everything up. I hate that I thought it had screwed us over. Luckily, Ren must have remembered the plan in the end. “Nobody knows you’re alive, right?”
“Other than the Phantom Thieves and Sae, no. Oh, and Kawakami, but she won’t tell anyone.”
“Good.” I don’t know what else to say, so I just say nothing at all.
“I’m heading home now,” Sojiro says amid the silence. “Don’t forget to close up shop once you’re done.”
“Got it,” Ren answers. We watch as Sojiro leaves, quiet for a few more moments before Ren speaks up again, pulling me close to him once more. “I missed you.”
“I know you didn’t see me for nearly two days, but I wasn’t the one who could have died,” I retort.
“Yeah, but I still missed you.” He rests his forehead against mine, for some reason wanting to be close like this. An impish smirk appears on his face as he notices my blush. “What about you, Akeppi? Did you miss me while I was dead? Did you think about me in all your waking moments? Wonder what could’ve been if we just met sooner?”
“Quit being so overdramatic,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. He doesn’t need to know how I haven’t gotten much sleep the past two nights because of him or how he did, in fact, occupy my thoughts day in and day out. “You weren’t dead nor are you currently dead.”
“But I am dead. Drop-dead gorgeous.”
I avert my gaze away from his beautiful gray eyes. Eyes that a couple of days ago had been completely terrified before-no. I shove that thought away into the deepest recesses of my mind. Now is not the time to break down. Not in front of him. “You must be fine if you’re managing to make jokes like that,” I snark.
“What? I am Joker,” he replies back with a sassy grin to match. The corners of my mouth twitch upward. His grin is downright infectious. The grin drops away as he seems to remember something. He hesitates for a few seconds before asking, “So...what are we gonna do about Shido?”
I jolt at the mention of that man’s name from Ren’s mouth. Outraged, I nearly shove Ren off of me as I yell, “How did you find out about him!?”
His hand instinctively moves, covering his mouth. I recognize the motion, a habit of his when he’s anxious or nervous. Whatever he’s about to say, he’s likely worried about my potential reaction. “I had Futaba wiretap your phone.”
So, he was eavesdropping on me, and when I had slipped up and said Shido’s name in the call after having “murdered” Ren, he and Futaba heard it too. It feels like a punch to the gut. I had been planning on telling him! There’s only one reason I can think of for why he would wiretap my phone without telling me. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
“I do trust you!” he replies immediately, fervently denying the accusation. I want to believe him. “But I had to take precautions.”
“Like what, exactly? You shouldn’t have kept me in the dark!” Hypocritical, I know. I had kept him in the dark regarding who Shido was for months now.
“What if something had changed in the plan?” I open my mouth, about to respond, but he cuts me off. “I know you’ll say you would’ve told me, but what if there wasn’t a chance? If something changed while I was in prison, you wouldn’t be able to tell me.”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“Would you have been able to stand up against Shido?”
What does he mean by that? Of course, I would have tried, but... “I would have fabricated some reason as to why the plans could not be changed.”
“But what if push came to shove? What if he threatened you?” I can feel the blood draining from my face against my will. I wouldn’t put it past Shido. He praises me now, but if I were to try and turn against him, I know he’d kill me off somehow. Knowing him, it wouldn’t be pleasant, either. Ren seems to realize this too. He gently wraps his arms around me, pulling me back into the hug from earlier. “I really did mean it when I said I’d help you. We’re going to change Shido’s heart. Will you join us?”
“I can’t.”
“Huh?” Ren sounds genuinely surprised at my refusal. “Why not?”
“As much as I would love to get my revenge myself, Shido would notice if-”
“Forget the douche. He’s a dick. He’s a dickdouche.”
That gets a hearty chuckle out of me. The way he phrased it is just too amusing. I’m sure he can hear my sarcasm as I reply, “Oh, how marvelous. That was the most profound and articulate statement I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”
“I try,” he says, grinning. “But why not? What’s stopping you from joining us?”
“My schedule is going to be...very busy in light of recent events. I won’t have a lot of free time to be gallivanting with you through his Palace.”
“We can work around it. I know you spent so much time planning this. And I’d love it if you were there by my side when we take him down.”
“We won’t have time to waste. It has to be done before he’s elected.”
“December 18th,” Ren interrupts.
“Yes. You’ll have to be ready for me to say we can enter Shido’s Palace.”
“You know the keywords,” he says. So, he remembers how I hadn’t denied knowing them before. I nod in confirmation. “We have the name and place. But what does he see the Diet Building as?”
“A ship.”
“A ship?” he repeats, making sure he heard it right. I don’t blame him. If I didn’t know that rotten piece of shit personally, I would’ve been stumped too.
“Yes, a ship. He sees himself as the captain of a ship for the elite in a sinking country.” How absurd. “If you go in tomorrow, I would be able to come,” I add.
Ren grins, seemingly happy with this. He then gets this melancholic look on his face. “Our deal’s going to be over soon. Once we change Shido’s heart, that is.”
“No,” I assert, shaking my head. He’s not getting out of this so easily. “I haven’t fulfilled my end of the deal. We still need to prove your innocence in the assault charge. That starts with finding the man who accused you.”
“About that. I...think I might know who it is. I’m not sure, but I think I’m right.”
“Really? Then who is it?”
“...Shido.”
“You’re joking,” I guffaw. Surely he must be kidding.
“Dead serious.” Ren laughs a little, probably because his sense of humor picked up on how he just said he was “dead” serious. So mature.
Once he’s finished laughing, I ask, “Are you telling me that we both were going after the same man this whole time?”
“I guess so,” he replies with a shrug.
I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head at the sheer absurdity of the number of coincidences that have been occurring between us. “Fate works in quite mysterious ways.”
“Fate’s been good to me. I got to meet you. And we got to fall in love.”
I tilt my head to the left, a little confused. “Where did you get that idea?”
“You told me that you love me.”
“I did not,” I deny, clearly lying. There’s no way he could know. He-
“Did too. It was a week ago. I wasn’t asleep,” he adds, nearly whispering the last part in my ear, sending unexpected shivers down my spine.
...wait. There’s something in what he said that is vying for my attention now. Even if he had heard me as he claims, he said we fell in love. Could he...? I have to know. “Hold on, does that mean...you love me?”
The grin that brightens his face could melt through the coldest of hearts. “Yup!”
“But...I’m a bastard son.” I have no idea where this self-deprecating behavior is coming from. However, I need him to realize that the person he thinks he loves isn’t me. I’m not that polite, pleasant boy he met in June. “I’m an utter disgrace to the world...a deranged murderer. Hell, you could have died because of me! And you...you’re special. Perfect. How could someone like you-”
“You’re perfect just the way you are. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”
“I’m not the ace detective you think I am. That simpering personality is just a charade to ingratiate me to the public. That’s not who I am!”
“I know.”
“And? You can’t possibly-”
I don’t have a chance to finish my sentence before Ren’s lips are pressed against mine. My breath catches in my lungs. I can only stare, eyes wide with shock. If I could see myself right now, I’d probably also be blushing. The kiss took me quite by surprise. The air still feels alive between us as Ren pulls away from the kiss, pulsing with an energy I hadn’t noticed before. I find myself wanting more. His smile is intoxicatingly sweet as he says, “I love you. I’ve seen the real you, and I love you for who you are.”
“You’re not just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear, is it?”
“No. I mean it. Just like how I’ve meant everything I’ve said.”
I finally wrap my arms around him. His warmth is so welcome. I didn’t know how much I wanted him like this. I refuse to let him try and save me or fix me or whatever he thinks he needs to do for me. All I want from him is his existence. Nothing more. “I love you too,” I say, resting my forehead against his, much like how he did earlier.
Ren holds onto me a little tighter as he whispers, “Let’s take down the dickdouche together.”
I snicker at his choice of words. “Yes. Together.”
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Copy and Erase: The Past | DRAFT
AN: Characters in this story except for Kira is not mine, this story is based in the MHA universe with my own little AU. Enjoy!
P.S Kira has pronounced Ki-rah
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No-ones pov:
Kira, a second year, was one of UA's top students because of her quirk. Many of the first years looked up to her, third years on the other hand, not so much.
"Just another show off" they always say.
Everyone has a high school crush, whether it's someone older, younger, or perhaps the same age. But at least everyone had had a crush on a particular teacher, these crushes would fade with time, whether its gone within a week or within a year. Kira's however, didn't fade at all. In fact, every day she plans on telling but she ends up failing from embarrassment or convinced by friends not to do so. Considering he was already dating Miss Joke from Ketsubutsu.
Kira often has thoughts of her and Aizawa together, from cuddling to the unholy. Kira has had quite the thoughts from time to time.
Cut to the present day, class 2A was on a field trip for New Years, they went down the coasts of Japan to a beautiful beach to watch the fireworks, Kira was looking at the stars after midnight on the balcony of the hotel they were staying at until she heard some footsteps behind her...
Kira's POV:
I stare into the sky of dancing lights, mind blank and all, just thinking what the future was like. I was in thought when I heard footsteps from behind, they were faint but not too faint. I turn around suddenly to see a man with half-lidded eyes, long, black hair and in some black cat pyjamas of some kind, I couldn't see the printed cat on the shirt considering it was pitch black out here. It was Mr Aizawa, of all people it had to be him.
"What are you doing out so late?" he asked in a dull tone.
It sounded like he had just woke up from a couple of hours of sleep.
"I couldn't get to sleep so I came out here for fresh air" I replied
Aizawa walks up to the railing next to me but a few meters away. I could feel my heart playing swift drum solos on repeat. My face was on fire. I kept my gaze to the view in front of me, watching the stars slowly pass over us. It was an awkward, but comfortable silence for a few moments before Aizawa had broken the silence.
"I presume you're in third year now, considering the past year is now behind us? He asked.
"Uh- yeah!" I stuttered.
"Third year requires much effort and persistence, even All Might could lack behind such requirements, but knowing you, you'll manage nicely" he said with a small smile.
The fire on my cheeks grew, practically my whole face is a wildfire. I fiddle with my thumbs whilst looking at the ground in front of me, this was the PERFECT time to tell him. But I can't, I couldn't
Aizawa's POV:
In the corner of my eye, I see Kira next to me looking at the ground, waving her thumbs over one another. She looked as she was nervous.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
Her expression went from nervous to looking like he had been caught doing something wrong.
"it's nothing, don't worry about it!" she smiled.
She turned back to the view In front of us, this sounded concerning.
"Kira, if there's something wrong you can tell me, I'm not only your teacher but I'm here to help" I told her.
She was a statue, she didn't even flinch. I turn back to face the darkness ahead of me, silence was heard until she spoke.
Kira's POV:
The time was perfect if I only had enough courage-
"Mr Aizawa" I mumbled.
He turned to me with his usual tired expression, honestly, he looked as if he wanted to go back to sleep. I gulped. I can't do this.
"Actually, never mind" I said as I head back inside into the living area.
I ran down the hall to my room, opened and closed the door quietly so I don't wake anyone up. I fell into my bed, mentally punching myself.
"Why was I going to tell him?! He's with someone and he's YOUR TEACHER, why am I so stupid..."
Those words kept circling my head, I scream into my pillow, my muffled screams could be heard through these thin walls. Tears flooded my eyes until I heard a soft knock on the door.
Aizawa's POV:
Kira quickly ran back inside and I was left alone on the balcony. I shove my heads into my warm pockets and decide to head back inside to my room. I walk down the hallway quietly, trying not to wake anyone up until I hear what sounded like a muffled scream coming from one of the rooms I passed. It was Kira's room. I put my ear to the door and heard what was also soft cries. Okay, something is definitely wrong. I knock on the door and the noise of crying stopped flowing into my ears. No answer, I knock again.
"Kira? Are you in there?"
I heard rummaging and the door finally opened to reveal her. Puffy eyes, face stained with tears. She looked as if she was just crying.
Kira's POV:
I managed to wipe the tears off of my face and open the door to see Mr Aizawa standing there.
"Is everything alright?" he asked "I swore I could've heard crying coming from inside your room"
"Everything's good here sensei!" I cheered, ignoring the fact that everything was definitely not good.
I try to close the door, Aizawa thought otherwise. He forced open the door and I just stood there, helpless.
"Kira, look at me, what's wrong?" he asked in a stern voice "I hate seeing you like this"
Tears dared to prick my eyes. I opened my mouth, it had a mind of its own.
"It's just you're so happy with her!" I yelled.
I quickly throw my hand to my mouth, what did I just say?! I couldn't stop myself.
"With who? What are you on about?!" he asked.
Looks like there's no turning back now.
"You and Ms Joke, you two are so happy together, I didn't want to tell you this in the first place because it could ruin your relationship with her.."
Aizawa moved back a bit, still trying to process what he had just heard.
"Aizawa, I love you and I don't I will ever stop loving you until the day I die, probably after that, I will keep loving you" I laughed, also crying at the same time.
Aizawa was still silent, moments before he saw a student crying, now she's confessing to him.
"I didn't want to tell you before but-"
No one's POV:
Kira was still spilling out whatever words her brain could process in the moment until she was stopped by a finger to her lips. Aizawa had soft look to his face, a hint of love but with a hint of regret.
"Kira, I wish I could say the same thing but we both know it's not right, especially since I'm with someone else"
Kira's POV:
I didn't believe the words I was hearing, but he was right. A student-teacher thing wasn't right, even if he wasn't with someone else. Tears started to fill my eyes but I quickly wipe them away before they came flooding out.
"Of course, I understand, I'm sorry for wasting your time," I said quietly, trying to hold back the pain in my voice.
"I'm glad we came to this, I hope something like this happens again in the future, considering it would have both my job and your education on the line" Aizawa said as he began to leave my room.
As the door shuts behind him I fell to my knees, the pain grew larger. Tears finally flooded my eyes, also drenching my once was on fire cheeks. Screams dared to exit my mouth, but I tried my hardest to suppress them. I get up and fling myself into my bed again, I have a feeling this year wasn't going to be the best.
Aizawa's POV:
I sit on my bed, staring at the floor still trying to process what just had happened. My student had just confessed to me, is that normal? Let alone the one I have had a fond of for quite a while now. The truth is, I love her back, but I never accepted her feelings since not only she's a student and I'm a teacher, she's 17 and I'm almost 30. And plus dating someone else on top of that (though I had lost feelings weeks ago). I wouldn't want to risk losing my job and her education. I lie back into my bed and try to clear my thoughts, it wasn't working considering every time my head goes blank she pops into it. I couldn't get to sleep so I decided to head back out to the balcony. After walking down the abandoned hallway, I see someone familiar. Before she was crying, now she was calmly looking out into the ocean, this feels familiar.
Kira's POV:
I had wiped the tears that had flooded my eyes moments before coming out onto the balcony on this cold winters night. Honestly, I could get over this considering its life.
"What are you doing out here?" a familiar tone of voice rang behind me.
I turn my head to my shoulder to see him standing there, still looking tired as ever.
"Just enjoying this peaceful night before it ends" I chuckled.
He comes over and stands next to me, closer than before. I can feel those swift drum solos playing again, I try to keep calm anyway.
"Kira, I'm sorry about before" he said
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you anyway" I smiled
"No, you should've" he said
Then suddenly he softly grabs my chin and turned my face towards his. He was closer than ever this time, to the point where there was no space between us.
"I love you too" he said softly before closing the gap between us.
It took me a bit to process what was happening, but I soon gave in and enjoyed the moment. It was short but felt amazing. We broke apart and he looked into my ocean blue eyes, his eyes were the colour of the night sky that surrounded us.
No one's POV:
Kira and Aizawa stand there, him holding her shoulders, her arms grasping under his, just realising what had happened.
Did they regret it? No
Will anyone know if they regretted it? No
Because, their love will never be spoken about, their love is a secret.
Copy and paste? No
More like, Copy and Erase.
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Shackled - Ch 2
Summary: After nearly ten years, Sam Winchester calls Miriam Bard to collect on a life debt. Unfortunately for Miriam, Sam leaves out a few important details.
Warning: Implied loss of family, grieving, depression, cursing, Demon!Dean, Sam’s tendency to leave out vital details for folks helping him to save Dean (read: Sam’s tendency to be a Winchester), threats of violence, emotional manipulation, mind fuckery (expect LOTS of that in upcoming chapters)
Word count: 1597
Author’s Note: This story would not be possible without @thoughtslikeaminefield , who convinced me to write and finish this story, cheered me on every step of the way, and convinced me that even after over a year of not finishing a single thing, I hadn’t lost my writing after all. MJ, thank you for poking the story til it squeaked. And for the banner. And lots and lots of other things. Thanks also to @cracksinthewalls for checking my work. You make everything you touch better.
If you’re reading this, hi! Have a seat and strap in, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride (in the best way!).
In case you missed it:
Ch 1
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Chapter 2
The wave of sheer malevolence that rolled over Miriam nearly knocked her from her feet, and she only just kept from throwing her arms up in defense.
Nothing was coming at her, no weapons, no attacks or enemies. But the sense that something in this room was absolutely wrong couldn’t be denied any more than she could deny the mental and physical effort she had to exert just to stay by Sam’s side.
Torn, she thought, eyes darting around the enclosure. She wanted to bolt from the room, from the whole bunker, find the furthest cave, and bury herself in it.
And yet...
Moment by moment, she had to fight the urge to walk straight over to the man bound to the chair not fifteen feet away, a chair she couldn't help but notice was bolted to the floor.
What the hell did she think she’d do when she got there, exactly? Where was this coming from?
Her stomach twisted as she forced herself to breathe normally, to ignore the flush rising through her skin, and really look around the newly revealed room.
Dungeon, her scattered mind projected. The Winchesters have a dungeon.
A massive devil's trap, much larger than any of the few she’d seen, was painted on the floor. The sigils were painted in black against the grayish white of the floor; detailed, huge, and precise, the mystical symbols couldn’t help but draw her gaze. She examined the lines for a long moment, studiously ignoring the one thing in the room she suddenly needed to look at.
“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
Dean Winchester had aged a little better than his brother, but he’d obviously weathered some tough times, as well. That his arms were both cuffed and tied to the chair in which he was sitting, his eyes blacked out in true demonic presence, did nothing to ease every instinct within Miriam that screamed for her to run.
Sure, Sam had said his brother was a demon, but…still. Dean Winchester, the Dean Winchester, an actual demon? That wasn’t a fact that could be conveyed through simple words.
“Gretel, it’s been too long. Where’s Hansel? Did a mean old witch toss him in an oven yet?”
The demon smirked at his wit, and Miriam felt her lips drawing back in an involuntary snarl, but Sam’s earlier words echoed in her head, and she throttled down the instinct to find a very swift end to this abomination. Nostrils flaring, she cracked her neck slowly to one side, then the other, closing her eyes for a two-count before opening them again.
Dean watched her, head cocked inquisitively, showing the first signs of real interest since she and Sam had walked in. His obsidian eyes narrowed as he gave her a thorough once over. His gaze lingered on her neck, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he took in the ruined skin, the pulse beating along the column of her throat. When he spoke again, his velvet tone throbbed in her veins, even as his words sent her stomach spiraling.
“Nah, I think the big bad wolf found you both. Ate up baby brother and started in on you for dessert. Bet he thought you were real sweet. Wouldn’t mind sinkin’ my teeth into that neck, either.”
Sam’s hand on her shoulder brought her back to herself, out of the rushing void. She blinked, cleared her throat, tasted blood.
When did I bite my cheek? she thought.
She shook her head like a dog shedding water, and suddenly she was back with herself. She glanced at Sam, looking for guidance on what to do next. Every hunter instinct she had screamed at her to drown Dean in a vat of holy water, or behead him at the very least. Anything to not look into those eyes again.
Those empty, black eyes that pulled when they should repel, that called to her to jump into the abyss rather than backing away from the precipice like any sane person should.
But Sam, the same man who didn’t hesitate to tackle the witch about to finish Aaron off as Dean set fire to the hex bag all those years ago, was frozen in place, his mouth a thin, painful line as his red eyes shone wetly under the harsh lighting. Then he cleared his throat and looked away from his brother as he arranged some flasks on the metal table nearby.
“Dean, I’ve gotta get some supplies for the ritual. It’ll take me a couple of days. Miriam is going to watch you, keep you...company. Then we’re gonna fix this.”
The harsh, gritty laugh that rumbled up from Dean’s chest was as amused as it was mocking.
“Are you still on that crusade, Sam? I don’t need a babysitter. Let me go, and we’ll just forget this whole brainless little scheme of yours. I don’t need fixing.” Dean grinned wider as his brother visibly flinched. “Ain’t broken, Sammy. Just improved.”
Sam’s lips pinched together hard, his eyebrows drawing down sharply, but he didn’t reply, instead turning his attention to Miriam.
“I know it sounds crazy, but we’ve figured out a way to cure demons. I can get my brother back, but it’s not gonna be easy. I have to go get the materials, some kind of specialized stuff, and it may take me a few days. I need your help; our other...friend is dealing with something and can’t get back here, and somebody has to watch Dean while I’m gone, just in case.”
Miriam glanced disbelievingly between the two brothers, one very obviously at the breaking point, if not well past it, and the other seemingly bored despite being chained down.
She took an unconscious step towards Dean before she could stop herself, then planted her feet hard. What the hell was that? she thought.
Dean eyed her speculatively for a moment, taking in her odd internal struggle. His nostrils flared briefly as he inhaled, and a smirk began to curl at the corner of his mouth.
“I think we need to talk in the hallway for a sec, Sam,” Miriam said, her lips pressed into a thin, tense line.
Sam huffed out a breath, and Miriam could see he was relieved she wasn’t outright refusing. As he led the way back to the hall, she glanced at Dean. He’d reverted to his natural appearance; warm, clear green eyes sparkled across the room as he winked at her.
“See ya soon, sweetheart.”
She shuddered and hurried after Sam.
The air in the hallway was by no means the fresh air she’d prefer, but it was bracing and clear after the tense, conflicting atmosphere she’d left behind. She took a moment to gather herself, to get her overwhelmed thoughts into some sort of order. Before she could find her words, though, Sam broke the silence with the last thing she expected or wanted to hear right now.
“I heard about Aaron. I’m so sorry, Miriam. I know it’s a rough time for you right now, but-”
“That's not the point, Sam,” she interrupted before he could finish, irritation and pain flaring hot in her chest. “You said you needed my help. That implies there’s something I can even do here. You want me to watch Dean, but what the hell do you think I can do if he gets out? I can’t hold back a demon by myself! You could’ve warned me, saved me the trip!”
“He won’t get out,” Sam said, his fingers clenching reflexively on the edge of his sling, and he grimaced. “The cuffs are inscribed with runes, and he’s inside a devil’s trap; you know those will hold demons as long as the lines are intact. Those flasks on the table back there are loaded up with holy water. Anything happens, you run like hell, call me, and I’ll be back here as soon as I can.”
He stepped into her space suddenly, and she was overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. He grasped her shoulder with his good hand, leaning down to hold her gaze. His desperation was etched into every line of his face, and she felt a sudden, unexpected affinity to Sam Winchester.
“I had no one else I could trust. I knew if I told you the whole situation over the phone, you might not come. But I never forgot you and your brother, and I never forgot your promise. I knew, out of the few people I could turn to, that you were the only one who’d understand that I’m going to do everything I can to save Dean.”
Sam’s fingers dug into Miriam’s shoulder blade, but she didn’t flinch, holding his gaze for a long, weighted moment. Then she nodded. He was right. Of everything that had happened since she answered the phone seven hours ago, this was perhaps the one thing she really, truly understood.
“You’re gonna have to load me up with holy water, though. Maybe a water gun to hold it. You got a Super Soaker lyin’ around somewhere?”
Sam coughed out a sudden laugh and released her.
“I can do you one better,” he said.
He reached behind his back to pull out a knife from a hidden sheath. He held it out to her handle-first, and her eyebrows shot up as she took in the inscribed, serrated blade. She’d heard stories about that knife, but she never thought she’d actually see it, much less hold it.
“Shit, Sam, I knew you respected me, but I didn’t know you actually cared.”
...
Chapter 3
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ladyoutlier · 5 years
Note
Prompt: I don’t know if this counts as head-canon or not, but I’m interested in the idea that the Crowley’s feet get permanently damaged during the Church Scene (it follows if holy water is permanent death than consecrated ground might be permanent damage as well imo). One day, Aziraphale notices.
Falling was hardly painless. It burned and scarred and left behind a great deal of phantom pains and bad memories. Still, 6000 years was an awful lot of time for Crowley to get used to all that. Let it blend into his identity until it became as much a part of himself as his name. Though he had already proven that names were always up for debate. But it was enough time to let it shift his outlook on life and play a role in everything he did. Soon enough, he all but forgot what life was like without the pain of his Fall.
78 years, on the other hand, isn’t a lot of time for an immortal being to get used to a new source of pain, although Crowley did try his hardest to cope and continue on as normal. He wasn’t sure whether it made it better or worse that this, unlike his Fall, was most definitely self-imposed.
He had made the decision to enter that church to help out Aziraphale. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move considering that Aziraphale would hardly be gone forever if he hadn’t intervened. He would’ve just been preoccupied for a bit up in Heaven whilst he was issued a new body. Likely, he would’ve made it back to Earth before the century was up, and all would’ve been right as rain.
But for some reason, Crowley just couldn’t let that happen. Had to save him the embarrassment as he had put it. Really though, he just wasn’t all that interested in seeing the corpse of his friend, even if it was hardly permanent. And dying probably still hurt like Hell. Aziraphale didn’t deserve that.
So he had tap-danced his way into that church, desperately trying to keep either of his feet from being too scorched by the holy divinity of God. At least the ground no longer burned when it was reduced to rubble. Still, the damage had been done, and, like his wings, his feet didn’t go back to normal. If he had thought about it a bit more, maybe he would’ve came in kneeling. God would’ve had a good chuckle at that.
It hadn’t been hard to play off the constant ache in his step when he walked. His overly dramatic saunter made it easy to play off a sudden stab of pain as just another example of his inability to remain still for too long. Really, he had the whole world fooled, even himself, that absolutely nothing was wrong whatsoever. That’s probably why he didn’t think twice about it when he swapped bodies with Aziraphale.
That’s not to say that Aziraphale felt Crowley’s pain when in his body. No, that wasn’t the case at all. If God’s holy wrath was tied to nothing but a physical body, well, it would hardly qualify as a punishment. This type of pain was linked to the soul so that whatever body Crowley incorporated, he wouldn’t be quick to get comfortable. 
Still, Crowley had never been discorporated, so his physical scars from his walk down the aisle were most definitely present on the soles of his feet. It wasn’t until a certain holy water bath where Aziraphale noticed, and it was very much the reason why he had left Crowley’s socks on for it. He considered keeping it to himself, but curiosity soon won out, and a week after deceiving Heaven and Hell,  he brought it up.
Their common place of evening banter was undoubtedly Aziraphale’s bookstore, but the angel had suggested they go to Crowley’s flat tonight instead. Surely if the demon was in his own space when Aziraphale turned the conversation to his question, he would feel more comfortable answering it. At the very least, he would have a harder time running away. Crowley had thought the change of place odd, but it wasn’t like he was going to say no to Aziraphale.
They were a couple bottles in, relaxed on an L-shaped couch that hadn’t existed four hours ago, before Aziraphale had the confidence to turn the conversation. It was a real shame to bring down the merry atmosphere with this, but this just wasn’t something he could shrug off.
“What did it feel like? Falling that is?” This wasn’t a new question the angel posed to the demon. Every now and then he would ask it, and Crowley would give him a slightly different answer each time.
“Like that warm bubbly God’s grace inside you suddenly got much too hot.”
“Is that how your feet feel too?” Aziraphale asked as nonchalantly as he could.
“What?” Crowley all but dropped his glass.
“I—I just noticed in our little escapade last week where we, you know, pulled one over our respective head offices…” He paused to look at Crowley who stared at him slightly slack-jawed. “Well, I noticed you had scars on the soles of your feet. Rather extreme ones too. And—and considering we can look any way we please and do away with things like scars, I assumed that these in particular must be related to a holy event.”
“Yeah it was.” The demon’s mouth was a thin line. “A holy event.”
“Oh, I do hope you didn’t step in that holy water I gave you. Everything in me said that I shouldn’t give it to you, but I did anyway.”
“Nah, was before that. 1941. Church. You know.”
Of course he knew. Crowley had once again showed up to save the day and, more importantly, his books. It was the kindest act anyone had ever done for him, and the demon refused to let him properly thank him for it. The holy water had been his later attempt at that.
“Dear Lord, Crowley. This didn’t happen to you because you felt the need to save me, did it?”
Crowley cringed at Aziraphale’s tone of voice. Last thing he wanted was the angel’s sympathy—or his guilt for that matter. “I wasn’t bloody certain what would happen when I went into that church. Figure a bit of foot pain isn’t that bad considering.”
“How’s a permanent injury to your celestial being not bad?”
“Well, the Almighty could’ve smited me then and there for stepping foot into Her holy sanctuary. Everything kind of pales compared to that.”
Aziraphale’s jaw practically fell off. “You thought the Almighty might smite you, and you still went in to save me?!?”
“I hoped the whole saving an angel thing would convince Her to go easy on me.”
“Crowley!”
“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
And he meant it. Absolutely one hundred percent meant it. He’d do anything for Aziraphale, although he usually tried to keep him from knowing that.
“I’d rather you not maim yourself—or risk your life—for me. Especially when it’s a non-lethal situation!” Aziraphale was now standing, his wine glass forgotten on the coffee table.
“With how your relationship with Heaven is, I’d say there’s all the more reason for me to.”
“Then I hope you don’t mind me saying that I’ll do the same for you going forward.”
And now Crowley was standing as well. “Of course I mind!”
“So, do you see where I’m coming from? Will you trust me to handle myself.”
Crowley sat back down, defeated, and Aziraphale followed suit.
“I’ll do my best, angel.”
They were silent for a moment with Aziraphale’s gaze turned to the demon’s snakey boots. He cleared his throat and spoke up. “So your feet do hurt then?”
“‘S fine when I’m sitting down.”
“And when you’re not?”
“Maybe hurts a bit now and then.” Crowley shrugged in an attempt to downplay his words as much as possible.
“Is there—”
“No, Aziraphale. Nothing you can do unless you also have a way to make my wings white again. And don’t say bleach. It’s not a funny joke.”
“Never would have thought of it, dear.” He moved closer to Crowley on the couch. “But I can’t stand to sit here knowing you’re in pain.”
A confused yet knowing expression flooded Crowley’s face. “Demons are use to pain, angel. We always feel it. The Fall wasn’t a one-and-done deal. We just get used to what it feels like.”
“Oh.” It’s a small little noise that escapes Aziraphale’s lips. One that holds a lot more emotional meaning than the word’s dictionary one. “Crowley, I—I didn’t know.”
“It’s not like I ever told ya.” He avoided the angel’s gaze. “Like I said, we get used to it. No use crying about some 6000 year old drama, now is there?”
“I’m so sorry. That sounds absolutely awful. I wish I could, I mean, there has to be—”
“Can we please not turn this into a pity party. Really I’m fine. As fine as I’ve ever been anyway. And I’d really just like to get sloshed with my best friend, if you don’t mind.”
It was time to back off. Crowley was done with this conversation. To the demon’s benefit, he had given Aziraphale a lot. Let loose quite a few secrets, and the angel appreciated that. If Crowley just wanted to drink now and have a good time, Aziraphale was going to do his best to give him a good evening.
“Of course. I shouldn’t have pushed you on this. We can go back to drinking.” 
He picked his wine glass back up but didn’t return to his side of the couch, instead remaining next to Crowley. If the demon minded, he didn’t show any sign of it. 
If Aziraphale couldn’t offer him any relief for his physical and spiritual pain, he could at least provide Crowley with his company. Really, that’s all Crowley wanted. Just Aziraphale’s company. Because, even though he didn’t tell the angel, just being around Aziraphale made him forget all about every ounce of pain he had ever felt.
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