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xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years

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🔥A Thought For a Thought🔥

~~~

It was subtle, but (Y/N) could tell he was struggling. The young Squad Leader watched out of the corner of her eye as the newly promoted Captain Levi looked over the reports in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth over the words and his brow almost imperceptibly furrowed. She watched him as he huffed a quiet breath and turned to another report instead, his eyes scanning the page furiously, as if he were searching for the key to some great revelation.

(Y/N) knew the truth. She had never told anyone, never planned to, but thanks to the significant amount of time she spent with the surly Captain, ordered by Erwin to help him manage his workload, (Y/N) could tell. Levi couldn’t read. He had never mentioned it to anyone, had never voiced his concerns with the mountains of paperwork on his desk. He only sat alone in the late hours of the night, trying to discreetly teach himself without anyone knowing that Humanity’s Strongest Soldier was illiterate.

(Y/N) lightly nibbled on the end of her pen as she watched him, pretending to be reading the document in front of her. She was worried about him. She barely knew him other than her brief interactions with him while they worked, but she could see the weight of the stress on his shoulders, see the quick flickers of anxiety flash in his eyes every time he saw the increasing workload on his desk. It also didn’t help that the other soldiers still treated him like shit due to his background. He was a Captain now, so nobody would outright insult him, especially if they wanted to keep all of their limbs, but she knew he knew about the rumors, the whispers, the sneers as he walked past.

Many of the soldiers either hated him for his very sudden promotion or were disgusted by him because of where he came from. It made (Y/N) grit her teeth in anger. People were always so quick to judge, not even caring when his two best friends died, a few of them even insinuating that they deserved to die because of their lives in the Underground.

(Y/N) knew that not only would admitting his struggle with reading and writing make him even more of a target for condescending remarks, but also that nobody would be willing to help him. Nobody would care about a rude, violent man from the slums just because he couldn’t read.

She knew she had to do something. She had been ordered to help Levi when Erwin had noticed that nothing was being turned back in to him, but she knew it couldn’t go on like this forever. Besides, (Y/N) loved to read. She loved books more than anything, they were her escape into a different reality, a whole new world to explore with millions of characters to fall in love with. She had lived a thousand lives, died a thousand deaths, loved millions of times through books, and it made her sad that he couldn’t experience that same joy, especially since it was a great way to relieve stress, something that she knew he desperately needed.

Setting her remaining reports aside, (Y/N) stood and made her way to the Captain, catching his attention as she took a seat at his desk in the chair right across from him.

“Squad Leader (Y/N)? What do you need?” Levi asked gruffly.

(Y/N) heard his rough tone, but she thought she almost saw a flash of relief flicker in his eyes at her distraction, as he placed the reports he had been trying to tackle back on his desk in front of him. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned back in his chair. (Y/N) took a deep breath and looked him right in the eye when she spoke.

“You can’t read, sir. Please, let me help you.”

Levi froze immediately, his whole body tensing as he glared daggers at the woman in front of him. His eyebrow raised when she did not flinch away from the dark glower that usually sent grown men running.

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t tell anyone, I promise, I just want to help you.”

“Why the fuck do you want to help me?” Levi asked.

“Because I can tell you’re struggling, sir, and I want you to be able to do your job effectively. Also, I love to read, and I think you’d really come to enjoy it once you learn how to do it properly.”

“What’s the catch?” Levi asked with an eyebrow raised.

“There is no catch, only that you have to work harder to save humanity by doing the reports on your desk, once you learn what’s actually on them.”

Levi contemplated her for a moment. Despite his inability to read words, he could read people pretty well, and he could tell she didn’t have any malicious intent, but he just couldn’t help but feel suspicious. He already felt a little exposed at the idea that she had discovered his secret, all on her own at that, meaning he was showing more weakness than he originally thought, but he also couldn’t deny that it was a tempting offer.

He continued to appraise her, and even though (Y/N) had the urge to turn away under his intense gaze, she held her own against him, standing tall and showing him that she had nothing to hide. When his silver eyes finally met her’s again, she could tell he was going to accept her offer, the small twinkle of hopefulness that glimmered in his eye making her heart flutter. She knew he wanted to learn, he just struggled with accepting help from others.

Finally, he nodded once, and moved his chair over slightly so she could slide up beside him and position herself at his desk. He was a little stiff, his body tense at the feeling of her being so close to him, right in the center of his personal bubble, but he eventually loosened up a bit as she gathered the reports on his desk and began teaching him the basics.

______________________________

He looked up when the door to his office opened. Not only was it late at night, past curfew for most soldiers, but (Y/N) was the only one who was allowed to come into his office without knocking, so he knew exactly who it was when he heard the squeak of the door handle.

(Y/N) came into his office facing away from him, using her back to push open the door before making her way to him holding a tray with two tea cups, a teapot, and some small cookies. His mouth watered as she came closer and he nodded at her gratefully, taking a cookie and popping it into his mouth. Usually he wasn’t a huge fan of sweets but he had learned, the more time he spent with her, that (Y/N) was an amazing baker and always made them just right for him. He hummed as the delectable taste melted on his tongue before looking down at the finished reports in front of him.

It had been a few months since (Y/N) had started teaching him how to read and write and he was already making significant progress. (Y/N) was an amazing teacher. She was always so patient with him, even when he was being moody, always encouraging him to keep trying until it finally started to click for him. She had started out with doing most of his reports for him, writing out what he wanted to say and then helping him write different sentences from the report on a separate sheet of paper, taking special care to teach him about each letter.

There were some nights where she even read to him from one of the many books she kept in her room, letting him just relax and close his eyes while laying on the couch, letting himself sink into the world of the novel and forget the problems of his real life for a couple of hours. There were other nights where she would randomly flip it on him, and have him read to her, helping him with pronunciations and challenging him with more difficult words and phrases each day.

He normally didn’t care about other people’s opinions, but something about the sincerity in her voice, the light in her eyes when she complimented him; it made him feel so special. On top of everything, she had kept her word and refused to tell a soul, even leaving his secret out of her reports to Erwin each time. He could tell in the way that nobody treated him with more malice than usual, something he was immensely grateful for.

He had to keep from smiling as he thought about her, his grey eyes appraising her as she sat down on the couch with her small bag, her eyes focused on the contents inside while she dug through it, looking for her supplies.

“What’s on the schedule for today, (Y/N)?” Levi asked, moving his reports to the side.

(Y/N) looked back at him and smiled, her eyes glimmering with mischief in a way that had him narrowing his gaze at her.

“Oi, brat, what was that look for?”

“Oh, nothing,” (Y/N) replied cheekily, making Levi grumble to himself while he waited impatiently for her to finish organizing her things.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I don’t believe you.”

(Y/N) snickered at Levi’s blunt remark, reaching for a notebook, a sheet of paper, and a pen from the pile of things she had brought with her. (Y/N) ignored Levi’s grimace of disgust at the mess of things she left on the couch and approached his desk.

“Today, Levi, we are going to be practicing cursive. You will need it for writing letters to the nobles, merchants, and any other groups of people who are associated with the nobility. They will be much more likely to reject requests or ignore your message if it doesn’t look neat and curvy,” (Y/N) said, rolling her eyes in disdain for the nobles and their stupid rules.

Levi scoffed but did not argue. (Y/N) knew he was just reacting to the nobles, his disgust surrounding them carrying over from his days in the Underground. Opening the notebook, (Y/N) flipped to the page where she had spent hours meticulously writing out each individual cursive letter as clearly as possible for Levi to use as a learning tool. Moving around the desk, (Y/N) turned the notebook around for him to see and started by teaching him each individual letter, just as she had done when teaching him normal lettering and spelling.

Levi got a little frustrated with some of the more difficult letters, their shapes and curves making it difficult for him to make them smooth and neat, but he was catching on quickly, taking (Y/N)’s lessons and rolling with them.

When he was finally ready, (Y/N) flipped to a different page in her notebook where she had written out sentences for him to practice, reaching over to grab the blank sheet of paper for him to work on and handing him the pen she had brought.

(Y/N) stood from his desk with a stretch, claiming she had to deliver the stack of finished reports on Levi’s desk to Erwin before the Commander turned in for the night, grabbing the stack and making her way to the door.

“I want you to copy down those sentences until you fill up that entire page, front and back, okay Levi? I’ll check your work when I get back,” (Y/N) threw over her shoulder before closing the door behind her.

Levi, meanwhile, was a little stunned, his face flushing a bit.

“(Y/N) is smarter than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is more attractive than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is stronger than Levi.”

“(Y/N) is a better Squad Leader than Levi.”

Levi stared at the page for a moment before bursting into laughter. It wasn’t a loud laugh, but it was a laugh nonetheless, the quiet sound filling the empty office as he read each sentence again. Levi shook his head at her antics, smiling despite himself as he got right to work.

______________________________

By the time (Y/N) came back into the room, he had filled almost the entire page, his letters getting more elegant with each sentence. He nodded at her when she came in, one that she returned in kind, before he bent back down to finish his assignment. (Y/N) picked up the book she brought with her and read a few pages on the couch while she waited for him to finish, the sound of his pen scratching against the page; the only sound in the small office.

“Done,” Levi said gruffly after a short while, prompting (Y/N) to close her book and walk over to him, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips.

“Let me see what you did,” (Y/N) said, holding her hand out.

Levi handed her the page with a huff, muttering something about her being a pain in his ass. (Y/N) chuckled, knowing he didn’t mean it before looking at the page he had handed her.

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted suddenly, throwing a glare at the raven-haired man.

“What is it?” Levi asked innocently.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Levi, you know exactly what it is!” (Y/N) said with a playful pout, glaring at the glimmer in eyes.

“I won’t know ‘what it is’ if you don’t tell me, brat,” Levi said with a smirk.

“You wrote all of the sentences backwards!” (Y/N) said, turning the page around for him to see.

“Levi is smarter than (Y/N).”

“Levi is more attractive than (Y/N).”

“Levi is stronger than (Y/N).”

“Levi is a better Squad Leader than (Y/N).”

At the bottom of the page, Levi had even written in beautiful cursive:

“(Y/N) is a pain in my ass.”

(Y/N) glared at Levi again when he pretended to analyze the page, his brows furrowing.

“I am so sorry (Y/N), I guess I just read your example sentences wrong. You know how I struggle with reading, especially with this new fancy lettering, my eyes must have just rearranged the words without me knowing. I was wondering why you were so enamored with me when I read it the first time,” Levi said in a monotone voice, keeping the smirk that was straining to ride across his face from showing itself.

(Y/N) huffed and placed both hands on her hips, tilting her head in exasperation despite the twitching of her lips as she tried to keep her features straight.

“Sure you did,” (Y/N) said, sarcasm dripping from her words before she finally caved, letting a bright smile flash across her lips.

Levi’s breath caught at the sight of that beaming smile, but he shoved down the feeling that rose in his throat. Shaking his head, Levi allowed himself to give up the title of Captain for a moment, and let his own lips curve into a smile.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully, ignoring her fluttering heart, before moving back to her chair and pulling out a new sheet of paper, directing him to write the sentences correctly this time.

“I’m pretty sure this is emotional abuse,” Levi deadpanned, earning him a light slap on the arm from the back of her hand.

“It is not!”

“Really? Because I think my feelings are hurt now.”

“Oh for god sakes…”

The two bantered back and forth while they worked until the moon was starting to sink below the horizon, the night sky turning from black to a navy blue. Standing up with a yawn and a stretch, (Y/N) gathered her things and made her way to the door.

“Goodnight Captain, see you tomorrow,” (Y/N) said with a wink and a smile, closing the door gently behind her.

Levi let out a grunt of annoyance but couldn’t deny the warm feeling that was heating his heart and making his nerves tingle as he stared at the door she had just disappeared through, the page of sentences about them still clutched in his palm.

________________________

Levi knew it was his idea to keep everything a secret, knew it was him who told (Y/N) to act professional around him when they weren’t in the safety of his office late at night, but now, as the meeting he was in dragged on forever, Levi felt as if he would give anything to be able to participate in their normal banter, her good sense of humor and sweet voice always turning his bad days around. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to regret making everything secret. He found himself wanting to sit next to her when they ate in the Mess Hall, wanting to spar with her during training, wanting to invite her on a horseback ride around the base.

He shook his head to redirect his train of thought, trying to force himself to focus on the map Erwin was going over for the next mission. He trained his gaze on Erwin’s finger, watching as the giant blonde traced a trail on the map, explaining where each squad was going to be located. But his mind kept straying, against his will, to the woman sitting beside him. He had the urge to brush his shoulder against hers like he sometimes did during their midnight sessions. He then had the worse urge to place his hand on her thigh, to run his fingers along her covered flesh and trace random patterns on her pant leg.

Levi blinked a few times, desperately trying to get himself out of this rut before he did something stupid like act on said urges. He knew (Y/N) probably wouldn’t even react if he touched her leg, maybe a confused look in his direction, or maybe even the light flushing of her cheeks, but it was the other people in the meeting he was worried about. He knew that for them, if he did something like that, it would be completely uncalled for.

He was starting to get really frustrated with himself, his thoughts caving in on themselves no matter how hard he tried to redirect his focus on the meeting. He wanted nothing more than for it to be the middle of the night, back in the safety of his office with (Y/N) by his side, laughing with him and making him feel more human than he had ever felt, and his heart knew that; was using it against him.

Suddenly, all of his senses narrowed to the feeling of something lightly brushing his own thigh. Glancing down as subtly as possible, Levi’s eyes widened as he saw (Y/N)’s hand resting lightly against his leg, a small piece of paper held in between her thumb and pointer finger. Levi was careful not to draw attention to himself as he reached down and took the paper from her, trying to ignore the cold feeling that washed over his body when she drew her hand back.

Pretending to read the notes in front of him, Levi opened the piece of paper, making sure nobody was watching him with quick glances around the room. Luckily, everyone around him was focused on the map Erwin was using, which gave him enough time to glance down at the tiny piece of paper.

“Why don’t we do some reading and writing practice since you’re obviously so entertained by this meeting? What are you thinking about?”

Levi fought the urge to snort and grabbed his pen, subtly writing his own note and passing it back in the same way she did for him.

“Why the hell should I tell you?”

He saw (Y/N) smile out of the corner of his eye and his lips twitched. (Y/N) stashed the note in her pocket and picked up her own pen to write another.

“I’ll tell you what I’m thinking if you tell me. A thought for a thought.”

Levi wrote back.

“Will it be worth it?”

“I guess you will just have to find out.”

Levi really fought back a smirk that time and was quick to write back a response, glancing up every so often to make sure nobody was watching them. This was a dance between the two of them, no spectators needed.

“Fine. I’m thinking that this meeting is stupid and I want to go back to my office.”

(Y/N) smiled when she read his note.

“What else?”

“What do you mean, ‘what else’? That’s what I was thinking.”

“Levi…”

“God damn it, fine! I was thinking that I wish we could talk outside of my office.”

Levi watched nervously as (Y/N)’s brow furrowed when she read his note, her reply slower in its delivery this time.

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

Levi frowned.

“I’m not answering that. It’s well past my turn. It’s your turn now, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Erwin has large bushy eyebrows.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at her note before responding.

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s what I was thinking! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was the award for the most philosophical train of thought ceremony.”

Levi had to stop himself from chuckling at that one, resulting in a low coughing sound that made Erwin pause.

“Levi, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine Erwin, just a cough, proceed.”

Erwin watched Levi for a second before shrugging his shoulders and going back to the plans in front of him, moving on from talking about the route to the battle tactics they were going to have to use on the mission. Levi had to refrain from rolling his eyes as he heard Erwin talk. Levi already knew all of this, this meeting was nothing more than a waste of time.

A light tap on his thigh reminded him of their previous little game before Erwin interrupted, and Levi quickly moved to write her back.

“It’s not, brat. But I know you better than that, what were you really thinking?”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking that you’re right, this meeting is boring, and I wish I could talk to you outside of your office too.”

“Why would you want to talk to me?”

Levi subtly smiled at her when she flashed him a glare at the mocking message on the note she had gotten from him.

“Because despite your main personality facet being dickhead, you actually can be less of an asshole sometimes. Sometimes I even kind of like you.”

“Like me? Are you feeling alright, (Y/N)? Maybe I should take you to the infirmary…”

“I know right? Something must be wrong with me.”

“Alright, that concludes today’s meeting. Remember to prepare yourselves, all of our missions are difficult, but this one could be devastating if we aren’t careful,” Erwin said, bringing (Y/N) and Levi out of their own world and back into the meeting.

“Yes sir!” the collective voices of the soldiers in the room rang out, each one saluting the Commander before filing out.

Levi looked at the Commander for a minute while he saluted him, his eyes narrowing on his face. When they had been dismissed, Levi turned and, when he was sure nobody was watching, leaned down to whisper in (Y/N)’s ear.

“You’re right, Erwin does have bushy eyebrows.”

________________________________

After that meeting in Erwin’s office, (Y/N) and Levi couldn’t stop the game they had started. The pair would find any excuse to meet each other and exchange notes, sometimes hiding them in the most ridiculous places for the other to find.

Levi found one stashed under his tea cup in the cupboard when he went to brew himself some of the calming brew one morning. (Y/N) found one rolled up and hidden neatly in between the cogs of her ODM gear. It was a dance, a game that the two of them shared, both of them entertaining the other with conversations about nothing and everything. They found it was the perfect way to further solidify their surprisingly strong friendship without everyone else asking questions about why they were so close in the first place, Levi still wanting to keep his past illiteracy a secret.

Good morning, Levi! Thought for a thought: I am thinking that you are an ass for making us work so hard yesterday during training. I’m pretty sure my legs are useless now, gone forever. Maybe as punishment I should make you practice writing love letters to every female cadet in the Survey Corps. Have a good day!

~(Y/N)

Levi chuckled as he read the note he had found tucked up in the nameplate on his door that morning, immediately moving back into his office to write her back.

Morning (Y/N). Thought for a thought: You’re a drama queen. Do you want to survive in this world or not? If your legs are gone, they will come back. Also, if you make me write love letters to the women of the Corps, I will end you. Have a good day yourself.

~Levi

Levi pocketed the note and left his office to start the day, eager to hide the note in (Y/N)’s coffee tin.

____________________________

(Y/N) smiled as she read Levi’s note, her eyes sparkling with mirth. It was just so him. She could almost hear him telling her that he was going to end her in person, his eyes narrowed and his brow creased in annoyance at the thought of writing love letters. It made (Y/N) giggle lightly, waving off her friends when they gave her confused looks.

Thought for a thought: Good point. I guess I would rather have sore legs than death. It was kind of a toss up at first, didn’t really know which one I’d prefer, but I guess you’re right. All kidding aside though, that mission is coming up tomorrow, are you doing okay? I don’t want to stress you out, so maybe we shouldn’t do our reading session tonight? We both need to get some rest and the last thing I want is for you to be distracted. Take care of yourself and please don’t die tomorrow.

~(Y/N)

(Y/N) put the note in her pocket and rejoined her friends, who were waving at her to follow them to the training grounds for one last field test of the ODM gear. (Y/N) touched the note in her pocket, figuring she could put it in one of Levi’s sword slots on his gear set. She felt surprisingly sad at the thought of not being able to spend the night hanging out with Levi, but she knew he needed to focus. He was important, not just to the Corps but to her. The surly Captain had definitely grown on her ever since she had been assigned by Erwin to help him with his paperwork, especially since she started teaching him how to read and write. She just wanted to keep him safe.

She would easily consider him to be her closest friend, the one who knew the most about her, her tongue becoming magically loose when she was around him. But he had never judged her, never told a soul any of what she said, always just listening silently, his entire attention focused on her. She sighed and touched the paper in her pocket again, reminding herself that even though he was the strongest person she knew, he was also still human and needed to be protected at all costs.

Raising her head up, (Y/N) set her face in determination and slipped the note into his gear as she put her own equipment on, readying herself for her final flight test within the safety of the walls before she was exposed to the hell of the world in the morning.

____________________________

Levi had felt his heart sink when he read (Y/N)’s note. He knew she was right, they both needed rest and staying up until the early hours of the morning, reading to each other, was not the best way to go about that, but it still made him upset.

The two of them had developed a routine. She came to his office every night after the curfew of the soldiers. What had started out as a secret way for Levi to learn how to read had morphed into a time when the both of them could just be themselves. It was the only time where Levi allowed himself to smile, to laugh, to crack jokes and to act playful. He loved how (Y/N) made him feel genuinely human, not Humanity’s Strongest, not Captain Levi of the Survey Corps, just Levi.

He loved how she called him names without worrying about being punished. He loved how she teased him and challenged him in ways no other person ever had, aside from Isabel maybe. But even then, the sweet, energetic redhead had seen him as more of a brother rather than a friend, and hadn’t treated him in the same way (Y/N) did. The way they interacted was different than any other friendship Levi had ever had.

Sighing, Levi wrote (Y/N) back saying that he agreed with her, and placed the note on the bar of her left stirrup on her saddle. Once he was sure the note was in a place nobody else would see, Levi left the stable where he had been taking care of his horse and headed back to his office, readying himself for his last night in the safety of the walls.

___________________________

Levi tossed and turned in his bed, one leg under the covers and one leg out, his body both too hot and too cold as he tried fruitlessly to get comfortable. He was normally prone to insomnia, but this was one of the worst episodes he’d ever had. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew why.

An image of (Y/N) flashed across his mind and he growled in frustration. She had to be fast asleep by now, there was no point in even entertaining the idea of seeing her. He just needed to get a grip on himself and go the fuck to sleep. He had never had a problem with sleeping by himself before, he could do this. Just because he hadn’t spent a couple of hours hanging out with (Y/N) didn’t mean anything. He could do this.

Levi took deep breaths, trying to force himself to relax. He closed his eyes and rolled over, moving his hands and legs into different positions, trying anything to fall asleep. When all of his attempts failed, he was just about ready to bite the bullet and start getting ready for the very long day ahead of him when he heard the sound of his door being opened very quietly.

Levi looked over, his eyes narrowed, ready to tear someone a new asshole when he froze. Standing in the doorway, shuffling her feet nervously, was (Y/N). Levi felt like he could’ve cried in relief, her presence already soothing him, but he forced himself to focus. Something was clearly wrong.

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Levi asked, sitting up and motioning for her to come over to him.

(Y/N) hesitated but eventually walked over to him. She swallowed hard, her head hanging down.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?” Levi asked as gently as he could, wincing a little at his rough voice.

When she still didn’t respond, Levi felt a little panicked, but managed to pull himself together.

“Thought for a thought?” Levi asked.

(Y/N) looked up and he smiled for her, trying to reassure her.

“What are you thinking about, (Y/N)?”

“I’m thinking I am being selfish.”

“How are you selfish?”

(Y/N) glared at him weakly. “Your turn first.”

“Oh yeah,” Levi said in a low voice that sent involuntary shivers down her spine. “I’m thinking I am worried about you. Now, why do you think you’re selfish?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and swallowed again before answering. Levi waited patiently. He was an anxious mess on the inside, wanting to know what she was going to say, but he knew that if he rushed her that he would risk chasing her away, and he definitely did not want that.

“I am selfish because I care about you and I want you to be safe. I am selfish because I know you need this rest to do well tomorrow but I can’t stay away from you. I am selfish because I want to be near you all the time and I am tired of the hiding. I want to be nice to you even when we aren’t alone. I want to joke around with you and laugh with you and smile at you and not have it be weird. I am selfish because I want all of that even though I know that doing so would humiliate you, that it would reveal your secret of having trouble with reading and writing, that it would just cause more problems for you.” (Y/N) closed her eyes and clenched her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry, Levi.”

“What the hell are you sorry for?” Levi asked incredulously.

“I’m sorry for ruining what we had with my stupid feelings.”

“Do you know what I’m thinking, (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“I’m thinking you’re an idiot. You’re not selfish, never have been. All you have ever done for me is help me, even when nobody else cared. You were always the first, the first to care, the first to be my friend, the first to make me genuinely laugh, the first to make me feel like I am worth something. You are not selfish. I want those things too, (Y/N). You have no idea how many times I’ve just wanted to crack a joke in front of everyone and listen to your laughter fill the hall.”

(Y/N) peeked at him from behind her (h/c) hair, her (e/c) eyes shining with tears.

“Did you know that this whole time I have been unable to sleep because we didn’t spend time together this evening like we always do? This night has been fucking miserable without you. Your feelings about this, about everything, are not one sided.”

(Y/N) looked up then, moving her hair out of her face and wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, a watery smile running across her face.

“Do you know what I am thinking, Levi?” (Y/N) asked.

Levi shook his head.

“I am thinking that I want you to hold me, if you’re comfortable.”

Levi didn’t respond, he just held his arms out for her. (Y/N)’s smile widened and she slowly sank into his embrace, following him as he laid down, his arms holding her against him so they were facing away from each other, her back curled up against his chest.

“Do you know what I am thinking, (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“I like this. I am thinking that I like holding you and I already know I will love being held by you. How do you feel about it?”

“I’m thinking that I love being in your embrace too, Levi. I feel so warm and safe right now, like I can’t be harmed,” (Y/N) said.

Levi tightened his grip around her, burying his face into the back of her neck, reveling in the warm feeling of her pulse and the sweet smell of her shampoo.

“Thought for a thought?” Levi whispered softly after a moment of silence, his eyes closed so that his eyelashes lightly tickled the back of (Y/N)’s neck.

“Go ahead,” (Y/N) said.

“I’m thinking…, that I love you,” Levi said shakily, his heart clenching nervously at her gasp. “I’m thinking that I’ve felt this way for a while but I never understood it. I’m thinking that I have a hard time with words but that you needed to hear this, and for you, I’d do anything. I’m thinking that you take my b-breath away. I’m thinking that I wish I knew how to say more, what to say to make you feel good, but that I can’t other than to say that I l-love you with every shitty inch of my being.”

(Y/N) turned around in his embrace, his arms loosening around her just enough to allow her to move. Levi felt the anxiety attacking his heart, his nerves fraying at the seams as he scanned her tear-streaked face, searching for any sign that he had just fucked everything up.

Levi was surprised instead by a passionate kiss, her warm lips nearly attacking his in her desperation. Levi choked out a chuckle that devolved into a groan as he kissed back hungrily, his arms tightening around her once more. When they broke apart, they were both panting, (Y/N)’s eyes sparkling with love as she met his intense silver stare.

“I’m thinking that I love you too, Levi. I’m thinking that my only regret is that I didn’t tell you sooner, that I missed out on this feeling for longer than I would have. Other than that, I am thinking I am now the luckiest girl in the world. You are amazing, and special, and important in so many ways. Not just because of your title as Humanity’s Strongest, but also because of you as a person. I love you, Levi, so much.”

Levi pulled her back up for another kiss, this one as equally passionate as before, but more gentle, his lips moving over hers in a sweet yet firm caress, making her nerves tingle and her heart light on fire. Holding her close, Levi wrapped himself around (Y/N) completely, resting his chin on top of her head as she buried her face in his chest.

“Take care of yourself, brat. Please, don’t die tomorrow. I can’t lose you,” Levi mumbled.

“You will never lose me, Levi, that, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I didn’t.”

Levi looked down at her one more time, his eyes scanning the determination in her gaze before giving her a light peck on the forehead.

“Good, because I’m going to need someone to keep bossing me around and calling me an idiot.”

(Y/N) flicked his shoulder in tired retaliation and Levi smiled as he felt her own grin against his skin.

“Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Thank gods, it’s you,” Levi said, hiding his grin by pressing his face into her hair, her warm body and sweet scent allowing him to drift off to sleep, the two new lovers enjoying their calm moment of peace together before they would be sent off into hell in the morning.

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jadelynlace · 3 years

Text

When You’re Unmatched Art / Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Request [Ivar x F!Reader]

[you can find the reference for the tattoo Ivar did here. He thought he was being slick, but he most certainly was not. Ivar, your feelings are showing!]

catch up on the porno, I mean series, here.

requested by: @quantumlocked310 ♡

author’s note: thanks to this post, you’ll all be subjected to the written requests. brief mentions of smut under the cut, and love sick Ivar.

synopsis: Ivar finally figures out how to design your first tattoo.

✎

For this to be Ivar’s passion—his mortal life’s calling—he could not, for all of the seconds in the year, figure out how to design your tattoo. There had never, in his professional life, been a client that had given him complete and utter reign. No simple idea, no nudge in a specific direction, hint of any realm no where on the forefront. You told him to design you a tattoo to take up space on your thigh. And that was it. Even after he declined, saying there must be some idea you had, you shook your head and give him control. Total, and utter control. And it was almost too good to be true.

Ivar knew he was screwed, when an entire sketchbook’s worth of pages went torn, crumpled and tossed into the garbage can with failed ideas. Even Sigurd offered no help—not that he was the artistic hand Ivar needed, he was the needle pusher and piercer. Music selector and unruly greeter. Floki only offered his normal words of wisdom, a way of not answering the question but instead making Ivar look deep within himself. “Don’t think about it much, Ivar. Just let your heart and your mind run freely together.” Great. No help. Both of them were caged in a muddled pile of muck and mud and dead leaves and Ivar couldn’t pull them out.

Through every outing the band of brothers went on, you in tow more often than not, Ivar would be at the receiving end of your questions—how he was coming along with it. You had no deadline, you understood his craft took time, but you were far too excited to see. Then came the first hook up—Ivar driving you home because you were too many martinis in, you inviting him up but he declined because it “wasn’t a good idea, princess” and you told him you “weren’t his fucking princess” and he drove around the block twice before finally knocking on your door. Weight against the frame with his temple kissing it, apologizing playfully for his nickname and you invited him in. A game of truth or dare later, Ivar asked you how drunk you were when it was his turn. And you told him you were sober enough to make decisions, clear ones, and then he dared you to kiss him. You felt like a high schooler again. When it was your turn to ask him and he had picked truth, your one question was the end of the game:

“If I asked you to fuck me right now, would you?”

“In a god damn heart beat.”

He was more than screwed when you wouldn’t leave his mind, after you rocked his world and he used your name on his tongue to get himself off the next time his left hand was needed. And then he texted you, asking how your day was, that was it. And after a conversation, playful but real, he was over at your apartment with take out and beer and you two watched true crime and Ivar told you he had seen this one and tried to have you guess before the show told you. When you were right he said you were smart, when he silently figured out an equation in his head, how many liters to grams to degrees, or whatever the hell it was, you almost dropped your beer. He wrote it out for you to show you, a near different language across the page through algebra, and you told him he was smart. The tattoo idea clicked then. The minute Ivar realized he caught feelings, the tattoo idea became so visible he drew it in almost an hour.

There was never a nervousness with him when it came to the day of appointments, even with the most picky of his clientele, Ivar took it as it was gifted because he loved his craft too much to have these types of petty things take up hatred in his heart. But you walked through the shop, shortest of shorts on, a pair of flowing pants in your bag for the event that session went longer and nipped off into the chilling night time air, and both a coffee for yourself and a Red Bull for Ivar. He nearly wanted to throw the ink onto the floor because he was scared that once you saw the design, you’d laugh, you’d call him something pathetic and walk out, and it would be the last he’d see of you. Instead he handed you the artwork, and your eyes scanned the image for almost five minutes, mouth agape and holding it as if it were a map to the unknown, hiding gold and jewels and you asked him if you could keep the sketch. Even with it forever on your skin you nearly begged him for the original artwork, saying something about how you wanted to frame it. You’d never seen Ivar blush before, but you were sure he did when you said that.

The session wasn’t short—it was almost his full day’s work of hourly long needle dabs, buzzing and brotherly bickering between him and Sigurd. Intensive talks between you and him, explain to him the less than glamorous parts of your job, the funnier parts and the teenage humor of the men you worked with. Hvitserk’s track record for receiving the majority of patient vomit on every call and you watched Ivar laugh, smile more than you had known him too and you wondered if it was because of the machine in his gloved hand or if it was you.

Sigurd ducked out right before lunch, picking up with the three of you had ordered and your skin received the welcome break from the on-going buzz. You were quick to kiss Ivar once, lingering lips on his to thank him and he looked shocked for a moment, worrisome that his brother would see before he tossed the fear aside, shoving his tongue down your throat. When it was all said and done, dawned with the artwork on your flesh you couldn’t stop the smile. Neither could Ivar. He’d promised the sketch after he photocopied it for his portfolio and you went home with the sore leg but a full heart. He showed up late, just shy of midnight after cleaning up the day’s worth of work, buying a frame and bringing dinner for the two of you to eat. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of it, even in its red and swollen, tender state, you loved this tattoo, and Ivar took his time treating it for you. Even after his head spent time between your thighs, one hand plastered on the bare skin and the other holding yours. Even after you rode him, artwork in his line of sight and it made him finish quickly; watching the piece on your skin, your palms on his chest as he moved your hips for you. Your head tossed back as you moaned his name when you came, the heavenly sight and you were forever marked with his skill. The after care from the sex went beyond the closeness, holding you as the television played in the background; he spread the lotion over it, his entire hand nearly able to cup your thigh as he made sure to leave no line un-slathered.

“You know I’m going to want another one before this one even heals,” You said to him, craning your neck up to look at him.

“Yeah?” Ivar asked, his hand in your hair. “Where do you think you want your next one to go?”

“On my arm, so I can see it all the time,” You replied, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Who knows, maybe I’ll just cover myself like you do,” You giggled.

“You’re perfect already,” Ivar said through a yawn, his eyes closing, head drooping against yours. “You tell me where you want ‘em, and I’ll do it—but you’re perfect already,”

Ink Drinker Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @queen-sarang @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @walkxthexmoon @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @istorkyou @victoria-styles @quantumlocked310 @xbellaxcarolinax @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @queen-of-upshur @nanahachikyuu @fandomlifeandeverythingelse @ivarhoegh @a5hl3y5ibley @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @youbloodymadgenius @love-all-things-writing @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @tgrrose @synnersaint

*please message me to let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list. specifications for series/ones-shots/blurbs/etc. are also welcomed, as well as feedback.*

full masterlist can be found here.

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jd-loves-fiction · 3 years

Text

➤”I’d like one order of Mando adventure angst with a side of fluff and a dash of spicy bickering. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers flavor (whatever’s on the house) and a nice hot bowl of ‘there was only one bed’

Give my compliments to the chef”

➤ genre: Fluff, Adventure, Comedy(?), Enemies to Partners, Angst

➤ wc: 4.9k (holy shit might be my longest request🥴)

➤ 🌙 Requested: @batarella ❤

"Listen, buddy, I got here first." You attempt to reason with the wall of beskar currently pointing his blaster directly at you.

Maybe not the smartest thing to say when first meeting someone of his reputation, but he can only be doing this for one reason.

He's after the bounty squirming nervously at your feet. And you're in the way.

Why else would he be out here, in the middle of a rocky desert on some faraway planet?

"Step away from him." The voice you hear startles you with its modulated dept. It's more surprising that he even spoke at all, given what you'd heard of the Mandalorian. Although his stature and the silent tension he brings with him is no doubt intimidating, you will not give up so easily after following this bounty so far out from the nearest town. “No.”

His visor tilts to the side, like a frustrated twitch, at your answer. “Maybe.” You rectify, which makes him raise his head in interest. “Do you have a fob?”

“No, I don’t.”

Not that it matters anymore considering yours is broken, but at least now you know he can't follow you if you make a break for it with the bounty.

“How did you find us?”

“I have my ways.” You nearly roll your eyes at his cryptic response, not like you expected anything else from a Mandalorian.

“Do you know why they sent you?” Knowing your employers, you had a clue on what the reason was. They got impatient.

They’d been pretty determined to get a maximum time needed out of you. You’re almost sure you overstepped it.

But to send a Mandalorian? Seems like a bit much.

“They were afraid you’d run off. That you gave the bounty away to the Resistance.” Of course, those bastards can barely trust themselves, let alone a foreigner.

“Well I didn't, and I won't. So you can lower your blaster and we can do this together.” You offer amicably, not yet loosening your grip on your weapon upon his lack of movement.

“You’re out of time. Your deal is off.”

“That’s just-!” You're cut off by a shot buzzing past you.

"Last warning."

Your jaw drops. How can someone be so damn cold?

You raise your finger assertively, about to give him a piece of your mind, when you notice something move by his hip.

And it's green. With gigantic ears. And huge dark eyes that blink at you curiously.

Your head tilts, mirroring the creature. The Mandalorian follows your eyes to find you looking at the child he’s supposed to be caring for.

“Huh. And who is that cutie?” The blaster already pointed at you raises from where it had begun to slouch, alert and cautious. Noticing this, you readjust your grip on your own weapon.

You and the creature continue to study each other, until the Mandalorian pushes the brown bag to where it rests behind his body protectively.

“Are they yours? I mean, doesn't look like the ears would fit.” You speak just to make conversation, stepping closer with miniscule steps. His gloved hand tightens around his blaster, hoping to remind you that he can still shoot you point-blank.

But he hasn't.

"Can you really do much in front of a kid?" You challenge smugly, still advancing slowly.

"He's seen me do worse."

"That right?" Another step. "You planning to shoot me today or would tomorrow work better?"

"Are you always this difficult? Just put the gun down-"

You jump towards him, hooking your foot around the back of his knee which makes him fall to the rocky ground immediately, dropping his blaster. Unfortunately, taking down a Mandalorian is no easy task, so he takes you down with him.

He throws his satchel to the side in the nick of time, it lands on a sand pile. His other arm grabs hold of you to pull you down with him.

You point your blaster at him as he lays beneath you, except it is no longer in your hand. Shit. He punches you in the face hard enough that something will turn black soon enough.

As you fall to the ground he gets on top of you, or tries, as you place your feet against his firm chest to keep some distance. You kick him in the helmet, silently thanking the stars your shoes are steel toed.

Your hand only scrapes against dry, red, sand covered rock as you search for a blaster, either would serve. Despite your momentary advantage in light of the Mandalorian’s confusion after being kicked, his hands quickly come down to cover your throat. You feel the creases in the leather as they’re pressed against your skin, and the beskar over the back of his hands against your chin.

But you still attempt to reach a weapon, a rock would do at this point.

Your arms flail wildly with no real direction, only the need to stay conscious, as if movement would help it. You do, however, notice that he’s purposely avoiding your traquia.

He still does not want to kill you. How sweet. Probably just wants to take you back to the bastards who hired you. They’d surely kill you, and much faster too.

Just as the spots in your vision start becoming overpowering, his grip loosens. You inhale greedily, desperately, gasping and coughing at the released pressure.

You can see his visor move to and fro, searching for something. Once you look to the side, you the child safe in its pile of sand, so it can't be that.

"Dank farrik! He's gone." The bounty. Right. Shit.

"Now," you pause, heaving as your lungs struggle to fill up again, "what?"

He places his hands on his hips, thinking for a moment, before turning his visor to where you lay clutching your sore - but not yet bruised - neck. "I'm going after him."

"I'm sorry-?!" You cut yourself off with a cough as you sit up, feeling grains of sand make their way inside your boots and other places. "You're going after him? This is my bounty! I had him, and I would've been fine if you hadn't shown up."

He keeps his stance, probably glaring disapprovingly beneath his helmet. You huff at his unyielding silence, getting up in his personal space and jabbing a finger into his chest plate.

"I'm about to give you a piece of my mind, so you better listen very carefully. I had it! It was my catch. And from what I can tell, it still is. So you better back off, Mando." Venom drips from your lips as you glare at the tin can on his head as if you could put a hole straight through it.

He relaxes, raising his hands again peacefully, palms up, "Alright, I get it. But do you think they'd take him from you now? Let alone later when you actually catch him? They seem pretty vindictive."

"Well, what do you suggest? You're not going on your own."

"And why not?" He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans towards you.

"You don't have a tracking fob." You retort, leaning towards him as well with your hands on your hips.

The Mandalorian pats himself down where he believes to have stored the small device, only to find all those pockets empty. "You little thief!"

"And you're a liar! Plus, you think I'd just let you take my credits? Come on, with your reputation, you should know better than that." You shrug and suddenly Din is acutely aware that the beeping now comes from your hip instead of his.

"Alright, fine, let's do it this way. We'll look for him together and once we catch him, I'll hand him in and we'll split the reward." He explains slowly, carefully, afraid to set you off.

"Seems good to me." You speak resolutely, thrusting your hand forward firmly, expecting a handshake.

His helmet tilts down slightly as he looks down at your hand, before he reaches out with his own. Just as the leather meets your skin - in a now less life-threatening way - a coo sounds from somewhere at your feet, making you both look down to see the little green creature looking between the two of you curiously.

You look back at it, mirroring it once more, before it smiles wide revealing its tiny little teeth and, oh, your heart might just actually melt.

It's large eyes move down from your face, towards your hands.

You suddenly realize neither you nor the Mandalorian had let go of each other's hand and that a large grin has formed on your face due to the adorable baby. It is promptly wiped off as you pull your hand back just as he does. He looks away while you shrug at the child's inquisitive stare, unaware that the bounty hunter had been watching you and marveling at the bond you'd both formed already.

And so you set out together to look for your target, back towards town, where you had begun your chase.

He can't have gone far or in any other direction, not with the unbearable heat and certainly not while handcuffed. He'd die for sure, you just have to hope he's smart enough to know that.

You walk through town with the fob in your hand, just out of sight. No need for unnecessary attention. The town is tightly crowded, much to your chagrin, so you move slow and are barely able to see over the moving bodies. There’s just too much going on, too many people moving back and forth, shoving past you rudely. If it’d been anyone else - not an experienced bounty hunter - you would have probably been knocked down by the last two men that had scurried past you in a rush.

Without warning, you feel a hand grip your bicep. You immediately ready yourself for a fight, before you realize it belongs to your associate. Once he has your attention, Mando nods towards the edge to the street, against red stone buildings, urging you to follow him. You do, nudging anyone out of the way as you walked against the crowd’s stream.

You’re about to shout over the noise to ask just what the hell he pulled you aside for, considering you’re running out of time, before you follow his visor. Right to a wanted poster of a very familiar scoundrel. From the Resistance? Wanted alive for 8,000 credits?

“That’s one big fish, huh?" You continue to shout in order to be heard over the crowd, which you immediately regret, looking around, paranoid. "Must be important." You comment to yourself.

You look up to see the Mandalorian's back disappear behind the corner. You quickly follow, catching up to his long strides, "What are you thinking?"

He ignores your inquiry, continuing to practically stomp his way through town. "Hey. Hey!" You call out to no avail. Well, you asked for it.

You reach out, grabbing the man by the back of his cape, tightening it around his neck and making it so he had to lean back to follow your hand in order to keep breathing. Your heart beats faster at the rush of power you feel for a moment. "You better tell me what you're thinking, or this is not gonna work."

He taps your hand repeatedly until you let go, rising to his full height and you're back to feeling slightly intimidated as he stares you down, silently.

"I'm thinking that with a price that high you might actually take the bounty yourself."

"Why-?"

The tracking fob. The small object suddenly burned a whole in your pocket.

"Oh come on! You were trying to kill me!"

Your voice raises, arms flailing about. You know you're making a scene, considering this street is so much emptier and therefore quieter than the main one, but for the moment, you don't care. Right now, all you want is to put Mando in his place. Something you know is foolish given that he nearly killed you before and could actually do it this time.

"Yes, but it's still stealing." He spoke with that know-it-all, I'm-better-than-you, tone that just gets on your nerves. Bastard.

You raise a finger in the man's direction, fully intending to continue this conversation and clear your name in his eyes - the reason why is unknown even to you - when a shrill giggle cuts through the air. You look to Mando's hip, where the creature (who's name you have yet to learn) sits, pointing ahead to the entrance to the cantina.

Right at the man of the hour.

What? How?!

The man looks back at you and Mando for a moment, eyes widening as he recognizes you and the fact that this might be it.

Before he takes off running.

You start running before Mando does, easily catching up to the stout man, who's no longer in cuffs. As you get too close to his liking, he takes out a blaster (that you know isn't his) and tries to shoot you in the head. Only to miss and hit your forearm instead.

Hurts like a bitch, but it's better than death.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a steel rope of some kind shoot out and wrap around the fugitive's leg, sending him stumbling face first onto the ground.

Mando walks over to him, barely winded, standing over the panting man and blocking the sun with his body. You can only imagine the man's terrified expression.

You quickly take care of your wound as Mando ties the man up enough that he can't move, wincing as you look at the damage made on your skin. The burning nearly stops the bleeding and it hurts so bad you can barely process it, so you don't think about it, you simply level your breathing while wrapping a cloth around the wound and hope for the best considering it's not too big.

You clutch it to your chest as Mando approaches, pointing at your arm, intending to ask you if you're alright, but you move it to your side before he can. "Are you-"

"We should give him to the Resistance." You speak resolutely, holding back from wincing as your injury rubbed against your pants. It hurt even from beneath a (barely) protective cloth.

“I said ‘we’, so don't you start giving me shit, alright?” You tell him sternly after he crosses his arms, probably getting ready to call you a thief again. “You can't give him to the Resistance because they’ll arrest you, correct?” He nods.

“Well you know bounty hunting isn't exactly legal.”

“You don't have to tell me that, Mando.” You remind him firmly. “So, if we give him to them, we can ask for them to clear your name! And we’ll get double the reward. Two birds with one stone!”

“Do you really think they’d just do that?”

“If someone’s paying 8,000 credits for one guy and specifying they want him alive, then I’d bet they’d do anything to get him, even something as seemingly insignificant as clearing your name.” You explain, gesturing avidly as you do.

A long moment of silence passes before a modulated sigh crackles through Mando’s helmet. “Fine. I’ll go get the Crest.”

“Wait, woah woah woah. Why are you going? How do I know you wont leave me out here?”

“How do I know you wouldn't?” You take a moment to consider his words. He did lie to you, but you did steal from him in a way.

You look down in contemplation, eyes meeting the creature’s. Right, Mando has the kid, who probably isn't fit to be out in this heat for as long as it has.

“He got a name?” You point to the child, who smiles and giggles gleefully.

“Grogu.” You nod, sighing and rubbing your temples. Stars, it’s so hot it feels as if your brain is melting and you can feel a headache coming on.

“You can go. But I want you to swear on your,” You pause for a second, searching for the right word, “honorable code. Swear you’ll come back.”

“You-” The Mandalorian starts, before giving up on protesting at your determined stand, crossed arms and raised chin. “OK, alright. I swear that I’ll come back for you and the bounty. That we need.” He whispers the last part.

“Get to it then. I’m sweating bullets in this heat!”

You sit, back against a nearby rock, searching for as much shade as possible. You don't want to move the bounty back into town for a multitude of reasons, so now you’re stuck just outside of town. Sweat making your clothes stick and it gathers while the headache gets worse and more blood soaks your makeshift bandage, but at least it's silent. That's what you thought about 20 minutes ago, now, you’ve changed your mind.

“The hell did you do to get 8,000 credits on your head?” You ask suddenly, seemingly startling the man who seems to have accepted his fate already.

He sighs, probably just as bored as you, “I have some information they want. That's why they want me alive.” You purse your lips in interest, humming in understanding, before silence falls over you two once more.

Stars, it's hot.

You could cry from relief once you hear the sound of a loud engine getting closer and closer. The 'Crest', as Mando had called it.

You grab the bounty by the shirt, hauling him to his feet rather roughly and shoving him towards the flying hunk of metal that had just landed.

The ship. Mando doesn't come out to greet you.

As the ramp closes and the air is blanketed in a sheet of silence, your mind starts to wander without your permission. You know he has to be handsome under there, what with his broad shoulders and slim waist, deliciously thick thighs and a wonderfully smooth and deep voice that seems to caress your very soul as you hear it. You caught a glimpse of his skin when you pulled at his collar, delightfully tan just begging for you to sink your teeth into it.

Must be the heat. Surely that is the sole reason why you're fantasizing so vividly about a man whose real name you don't know, whose face you've never seen and oh, a man who tried to kill you. But didn't.

Sick of your own thoughts and the loud snores of the bounty, you rise to your feet, climbing the ladder that leads to the cockpit. You wince as you put part of your weight on your injured arm, deciding to climb the rest of the ladder one handed instead.

“Are you decent?” You shout through the thick metal door, hoping Mando can hear you inside the cockpit. When the heavy doors hiss and open, you’re sure he must be.

You sit down in the passenger seat silently, looking up at the stars above for a long moment. The mesmerizing, endlessly dark sky is all that you see at first, from being partially blinded by the fluorescent lights inside the Crest, before the stars come to you, bright speckles that dust the planetary systems all around you. Breathtaking.

You look back in front of yourself to find Grogu already staring at you, head tilted with a smile that shows the slightest hint of tiny teeth. You smile, leaning forward with a raised brow. He leans closer to you, eyes lingering in the side of your face, the one already darkening from Mando’s blow, before dipping down to the arm you hold close to your chest. You let go of it immediately as he does, wanting to shield him from seeing the blood you know can be seen through the cloth.

The child steps closer, as far as he can while up on the dashboard. Mando has to be avoiding you, before he would've seen that movement otherwise.

It reaches out his small hand, squeezing his eyes as tightly as possible while the green limb twitches. You furrow your brows in confusion, what?

The ache on your skin lessens gradually, as if the wound was being lifted from your skin. You can feel it on your arm, it tickles as your skin connects itself around the wound while the burn disappears as if you’d just placed ice over it.

At some point, your eyes close, lulled nearly to sleep by the lifting of the pain, the feeling left behind makes your skin tingle with energy just beneath, your head feels light for a second, as if the blood moved from there down to heal the wounds.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with Mando’s visor trained on your face, silent in a way you can tell he’s speechless. “Eyes on the road, Mando.” You tell him cheekily, voice cracking unexpectedly.

He turns back forward, pausing his steering to pull Grogu forward and away from the edge, before his hands return to the commands. “So, is it far still?”

“No, just a few more hours. The closest Resistance base is just on the next planet.” His fingers flick switches and pull levers, before he seemingly puts the vehicle on autopilot and turns to you. “You can take the cot, you must be tired.”

You blink at him, “And what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” He answers gruffly, not sparing you a glance.

“No, it’s gonna be a few hours, and you’ve been awake for about as much as me so if anyone is taking the cot, it’s you.” You argue back firmly.

He sighs, loosening the cape around his neck as a way to calm himself down, you and your selflessness.

“Alright. No promises that I’ll sleep though.” He acts like it’s a huge burden, as if it pains him deeply.

He takes Grogu in his arms and towards his sleeping nook. The small child smiles at you from over his guardian’s shoulder, and you smile back.

Once he’s safely put away and the bounty checked on, Mando leads you to a space just off the main hull space, where a bed - with the thinnest mattress you’ve ever seen - is pulled from the wall. Oh boy, you can already feel your back aching, but it’s better than sitting in the cockpit on those hard chairs.

So you lay down your weapons while he takes off the bulkiest of his armour. You lay down, curled on your side and away from him, knowing he’ll have to cuddle close to fit. You feel his warmth against your back, but you don't feel his touch quite yet, only the ghost of it. Your gut tightens with pity as you know he can’t take his helmet off. That has to be very uncomfortable.

The lights are dim enough that there is no shadow from your bodies on the wall. You can tell by the space he’s put between you, that he’s about to fall off.

“Are you scared of me, Mando? Can I call you Mando?”

“Sure and no.”

“Which one?” You ask mischievously, smirking to yourself while knowing full well what he meant.

He sighs in exasperation, so you let him be. For only a moment before you're back to being snarky. "Surely you've been this close to another human before, perhaps in a more compromising context."

"Yes and it's usually quieter." You think he might not realize what he just said.

You snort, "Must mean you're doing something wrong."

"That's not-! Just, get some sleep." He says tiredly, giving up on the banter you're pushing. You do as he asks, closing your eyes as you feel the heat of his body move closer to you.

You wake up to a rough whisper of your name and a shaking of your shoulder. Eyes open slowly, squinting against the light shining right at them, before something blocks it and eases your discomfort. The large hand on your shoulder doesn't yet move from its place, gently perched and waiting for you to wake up fully.

You look up to see Mando's helmet over you, seemingly way too close (not that you're complaining), as you can clearly hear him breathe through his modulator. "We're here and we need to talk before you go in."

You follow him to the hull without question, stopping just before the door that leads to it. You rub the sleep from your eyes before blinking up at the bounty hunter, trying to nonchalantly fix your messy hair.

And though he'd never tell you, he thought you looked adorable in that moment. Rosy cheeks, a faraway gaze, lips pursed to hold back a yawn as you brushed down your hair. He was certainly thankful for his helmet in that moment, considering the heat he felt crawling up his neck and settling on his cheeks.

"Plan?"

You clear your throat before speaking, "Right. So, it's easy." You raise a hand to his face when Mando sighs deeply. "Simple, really. I go in, tell them I have the bounty and ask for a little something as compensation along with the credits. See? Easy and simple!"

"Do you think they'll take it?" It doesn't sound as skeptical as you would've expected from him. It's sort of hopeful. Even Mando has to admit to himself that getting chased around and having to avoid and run from x-wings at every turn, got pretty exhausting.

"Let's try it before we start getting doubts." You tell him, determined. "Besides, nothing to lose if you stay hidden, right?"

The planet you landed on is small and green - perfect cover for a Resistance base. You walk along the dirt path leading to it and away from the Crest, coming up to a clearing where you can see the humongous metal doors of the base which seemed to have been dug into a small mountain.

"Stop! State your business." A voice says through a speaker once you get close enough.

"I've come to deliver a bounty!" You keep it simple, no use even attempting to be charming with these folks.

Not long after, the doors part to let someone through, who you presume is a general or something of the sort given their intimidating presence and the flock of guards with their weapons trained on you that follow them.

"We have your credits. Thank you for bringing him to us." You keep your face neutral even as it urges to tremble beneath the pressure of their gaze. You feel the man in question squirm against the arm that grips his bicep. Must really not be a fan.

"That is not all I want." The supposed general, no need to try and figure that out considering you don't want them to remember you more than necessary, raises a delicate brow. "I would like for you to clear someone's name."

"That is not what we agreed on."

"Yes, well, I didn't agree to it myself, so." You shrug, impressed that the general's face remains stone cold, especially considering how much they probably would like to dispose of you given you're dragging out this exchange for longer than what's really necessary.

"You are in no place to make demands." One soldier tells you, pulling out his blaster and pointing it at you, getting more of a reaction from the bounty than from yourself as he flinches.

"Oh, I am in the perfect place to be making demands." You tell him venomously, grip tightening on the man's arm.

"We have you surrounded."

"Just the way I like it." You respond with a wink just to hear the person's stuttering over the modulator on their helmet.

"Very well." The general calls out in order to gain their minions' attention, "Just tell me what name they might be under in our system."

"The Mandalorian. Mando for friends."

Epilogue

"Fuck! Shit, fuck! What was I thinking?!" You yell out in frustration, standing before what remains of your ship, the rest most likely taken by Jawas, who must be long gone by now. "Of course someone would take it apart, why not?! Oh, stars." You wail miserably, crouching into a ball in search of some comfort.

"Hey, it'll be alright. Don't panic." Mando tells you gently after pulling you to your feet and grabbing your shoulders tightly to ground you. "There's two ways we can do this: we go after those Jawas, get your pieces and fix the ship or," Mando hesitates for a moment, fingers drumming along your skin as he turns the words over and over in his tongue until he feels as if he'll get them right once he says them. "you can come with me until you get enough credits for a new one. 4,000 might not be enough yet, but it's a pretty solid start."

His rare optimism brings a small smile out of you and makes your anger settle down almost completely. You'll no doubt have an even deeper hatred for the little shits, but you don't feel as if you'll punch the next living thing you see.

"I guess catching a ride with you can't be so bad, huh, Mando?"

#din djarin #din dijarin fanfiction #din dijarin x reader #din djaren #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #the mandolarian #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x y/n #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x oc #mando x reader #mando and grogu #mando #din

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rufousnmacska · 3 years

Text

Only You

A manorian arranged marriage fic from an anon request -

Do you think you could write an angsty manorian drabble where political/royal pressures and such has Dorian marry someone else + Dorian being mortal has Manon encouraging him? just all that manorian heartbreak+pining. also really love your fics!

This turned into much more than a drabble, but I hope everyone enjoys it! 🤗

Many thanks to @itach-i for beta reading and helping plot things out! ❤️

PART ONE

Dorian hadn’t noticed the cold until his valet wrapped a furred robe around him. How long had he been standing out here? The sun had just broken from the horizon and his breath was pooling in front of him with each exhale. The valet, a gray-haired man named Ruben, disappeared back into the royal suite, muttering something about the foolishness of young men. Dorian smiled grimly, knowing he was indeed foolish. Worse. He was a godsdamned idiot. And he felt numb, as though his body was somewhere far from here, his mind with it. None of it was due to the winter chill. Staring off towards the hills west of Rifthold, his eyes glanced over the many red and gold banners attached to the city’s roofs, snapping in the wind. Part of him loved seeing his people so excited, so proud for the coming celebration. They’d suffered greatly during the war and had worked hard in the rebuilding effort of the last two years. But that small joy for his kingdom was overshadowed by his own despair. How many times had he stood in this spot, watching and waiting and holding his breath until he caught sight of those silvery wings and moon white hair dancing in the sky? He’d known today would be his last chance to watch for her. And since sleep was a fool’s hope, he’d come out to his balcony and stood here for hours, his gaze on the west, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

***

The rising sun shone brightly off the tops of the castle towers, giving the small group of witches their first real view of Rifthold in the distance. In the past, this sight would leave Manon breathless with anticipation, pushing Abraxos to speed up in her excitement. There had been times when her giddy desperation to reach the castle was almost humiliating, forcing her to contain her emotions before she landed. But no matter her control in those moments, Dorian would greet her on his balcony with a ferocious embrace, seeing right through her mask. He always had. Now, Manon wished that truth away, pushing it deep down, along with the nausea roiling in her gut. As they drew nearer to Rifthold, she could just barely make out the decorations hanging from the castle. It almost brought up the meager breakfast she’d eaten not long ago. With the brightening sky, she realized the entire city was decked out, covered in colorful banners and garlands. Of course, a royal wedding demanded finery. She had expected it, guarded herself against it. But her expectations were dealt a swift blow by the reality now facing her. Manon was on her way to Dorian’s wedding. Not as the bride, but as a royal guest. And she had no one but herself to blame.

*****

Six months earlier…

Manon frowned as Abraxos landed on an unusually empty balcony. Though she’d never asked for it, the space had been rebuilt to provide a large enough area to comfortably hold a wyvern. Wrapping halfway around the king’s tower, the balcony offered magnificent views of the ocean to the east and the mountains to the west. As she dismounted, Manon realized that vast western view was what gave Dorian the ability to know she was almost there. Normally, she wouldn’t notice the view because he would be there, scooping her up and taking her inside to say hello in her favorite ways. But tonight, she and Abraxos were alone.

Quietly, so as not to startle Ruben, Manon stepped through the doorway. She needn’t have bothered. The bedroom was as empty as the outside and she heard no sounds coming through the door to the other rooms. Wondering if he hadn’t received her last message telling him when to expect her, Manon sat on a sofa to wait. She lasted less than five minutes before pacing around the room, then finally deciding to go in search of Dorian.

The office was empty and as she continued through to the exterior door, Manon rolled her eyes at the messy desk. How Dorian managed to keep everything straight in the piles and stacks of papers was beyond her. She wasn’t in the corridor long before she heard angry voices echoing up the stairway. Chaol and Dorian had stopped part way up the tower.

“You can’t afford to just dismiss this threat of rebellion. Lord Frey is an ass, but he has the ear of too many other nobles to be ignored.” Chaol sounded winded. Manon didn’t think he came up here very often since his mobility was tied to his wife’s magic. That he was here now to continue this conversation was significant.

“I refuse to give into his demands,” Dorian growled. “He complains about me leaving the kingdom to Erawan, and yet he brags about how he profited from the war. Whatever gold he has in his coffers did not come from me.”

Manon inched back to the door on silent feet. She knew Dorian’s lords were causing trouble, but he’d refused to go into detail about it with her. The thought of anyone claiming Dorian had willfully abandoned Adarlan to Erawan made her blood boil. The valg king and his armies had left a path of scorched earth and devastation on his march to Terrasen. And Dorian had spent the last two years of his life dedicated to rebuilding his kingdom.

Chaol sighed. “Yes, but what he’s proposed in exchange—”

“What he’s proposed will not be considered,” Dorian interrupted. It was a voice Manon had never heard from him.

After a long pause, Chaol continued. “I know how you feel, Dorian. But we need to put emotions aside and think this through. I’m not saying we go along with it. But right now, we have to look at every option.”

“You say ‘we’ as if you would be the one marrying his daughter.”

Manon gasped, covering her mouth to remain quiet.

“It would be a political alliance,” Chaol reasoned. “You wouldn’t have to end things with—”

Again, Dorian refused to let him finish. “Stop. I’ve told you my decision. We will find some other way to placate the rebellious lords. I am not marrying her.”

Soft footsteps punctuated by the clack of a cane sounded as Chaol left his king and descended the tower. When he was gone, she heard Dorian smash his fist into the stone wall, pieces of mortar crumbling and raining down onto the floor. Manon was paralyzed, her hands balled up into tight fists, eyes wide. And that was how Dorian found her when he took the final steps up to his suite.

***

“You misunderstood. Frey doesn’t have enough clout to demand such a thing.” Dorian was frantic, spending the last two hours trying to explain away what Manon had heard. But her face had frozen into a mask, nothing he said could tease out even the slightest reaction.

“You can’t be so flippant,” she said, the stony resolve in her voice starting to scare him. “He’s offered you an out from civil war. If you care about your kingdom, you must do it.”

He was going mad. First Chaol, now Manon. Where was Yrene to talk some sense into them? He cared about his kingdom and his people. He cared so much that he had no life whatsoever beyond the endless meetings and negotiations and squabbles. His sole joy in life was standing before him now arguing that he should marry someone else.

“If I care?” he asked. “I was prepared to die for it. On many occasions. I would gladly give my life. But I won’t give my heart.”

Manon blinked slowly, and he realized she was looking past him. “You once told me you were prepared to give up your throne for Sorscha. Then the war taught you how foolish, how childish that was. And now, as if you learned nothing, sacrificed nothing, you want to do the same thing. Your life and your heart are one in the same.” Finally, her golden eyes met his. “I am immortal. You are not. You need a human queen to give you heirs and unite your kingdom. I will not play a part in disrupting that.”

Dorian searched for any sign - an unshed tear, a twitch of her lips, a clenched jaw. But there was nothing. Nothing on her face except a cold certainty that left him feeling lost, alone. He knew this was an act, a means of protecting herself. And yet, she was right. When they’d parted ways in Orynth after the war, he’d ignored the desire to ask her for some sort of commitment beyond “We’ll see.” They both had countries to rebuild and had chosen that greater responsibility over personal wishes. Dorian told himself then that they had time. Yes, he was a mortal. But he still had a plentiful well of raw magic on which to draw upon, magic that would give him a much longer life than a normal human. And only two short years later, out of nowhere, everything was falling apart.

No, he would not let his people suffer through war again. But giving in to extortion was not an acceptable alternative. He thought of Aelin, wondering how she would handle a situation like this. With the way her people adored her, he knew she’d never reach this point. Maybe Frey and his allies were right. Maybe he’d left them to fend for themselves out of cowardice instead of prudence. Suddenly, Dorian was exhausted, tired of being king, tired of giving up everything he wanted. He rubbed his eyes until they were red

“You know it has to be this way,” she said, having watched him sort out his thoughts. “No matter what they claim, you’ve never once abandoned this kingdom. Which is why you won’t do it now.”

Dorian stared at the ground, grasping for a way out, but his mind felt like aspic, soft and muddled and useless. “I won’t be a king who takes a queen and still keeps a lover.” The ultimatum was hard to voice, but it was true. Despite his rakish history, he’d never taken a new lover without breaking things off with the old one. If ever an exception was to be made, it would be with Manon. But he would never disrespect her, a queen in her own right, by reducing her to a secret paramour and source of castle gossip.

Still stoic, she replied, “I would not expect you to.”

They had always pushed and teased each other, seeing which one would break first and admit their feelings or give in to the desire. Desperately hoping that they were playing that game now, he surrendered. “I want you, Manon. No one else.”

The slightest hitch in her breathing and a tiny flutter of her eyes sent his hope soaring. But, with a firm tone that meant she would say no more, Manon said, “Marry her, Dorian. Save your throne and keep your people from more bloodshed.”

Before he could respond, she walked out the door and climbed into the saddle still strapped to her wyvern. Manon was in the air without a look back, and Dorian sank to the ground, his head in his hands.

*****

Rumors were flying through the witch city faster than the most agile wyverns. Mere months ago, the witches had expected an announcement from their queen, happy news that their kingdom would be united with Adarlan. Some were not in favor of their queen marrying a human, king or not. Others, especially those in the queen’s council, saw it as a good match. A love match, they claimed. But now, after the royal messenger from Adarlan had arrived, the gossip was spinning out of control.

Manon stared at the thick envelope sealed with red and gold wax, the wyvern stamped into it watching her with a single mocking eye. Dorian had once laughed about how significant it was for his royal crest to include a wyvern, a connection forged between their two kingdoms before they had even met. She’d brushed the thought away at the time, rolling her eyes at his insistence that fate was at work. But now, the memory of his teasing voice sank into her chest, adding to the heaviness and pain that had been choking her since she’d left him on that balcony months ago.

“You don’t have to go. No one would fault you for it. We can send Petrah as a representative,” Glennis said, her voice stiff and formal. It was a tone usually relegated for council meetings, not a conversation with her granddaughter.

She was silent for a long moment, still looking at the envelope. Instead of answering, Manon picked it up and ripped apart the seal. The invitation was written in fanciful blue ink with a border of red berries and ivy stamped into the parchment. She frowned at the flowery words that matched the design, knowing the girl must have been behind all of it. The girl. Manon knew she was likely close to Dorian’s age, but she didn’t care. The future queen of Adarlan would forever be the girl in her mind. Even so, it was impossible to miss her name in elegant calligraphy.

Your presence is requested at the royal wedding of Lady Eveline Frey and His Majesty Dorian Havilliard II, King of Adarlan

Manon stopped reading at his name and continued to flip through the remaining pages. They contained notices of the pre-wedding events that the ‘happy couple’ hoped people would attend, despite the possibility of poor weather at that time of year.

Happy. Her eyes caught on that word and didn’t move. She knew it was a lie. And yet, her old doubts and fears flooded back into her mind. She was still heartless despite her efforts to change, he deserved someone who could sufficiently return his affections. She was immortal, he was not. Manon had reasoned that she would rather lose him like this than watch up close as he aged and died. Rather lose him now, when they could both move on to full lives, than be forced to somehow carry on after his death. A magically extended life or not, she could see no other scenario if she continued with him. And if that was truly how she felt, then she wanted to be there and show him they were both better off this way.

Glennis watched her, likely reading every thought that had gone through her head. For when Manon said she was going, her grandmother’s head dipped in resignation. “Then I will accompany you.”

Manon lost count of her attempts at crafting a reply. She began with a simple list of witches who would attend with her, which morphed into a long drawn out explanation of why she wanted to be there. Then she backtracked into a brief, two sentence response. And even then, she had to make several copies until one was legible. The anguish of what she faced kept showing itself in her shaking hand.

Her eyes keep going back to their names and she found herself wondering what the girl was like. Did she like to read? Could she fight with a sword? Would she stand up to the nobility who claimed Dorian was not worthy of his throne? How would she react to him waking up screaming in the middle of the night from a nightmare in which he’d been torturing people?

That last thought made her feel sick. Not because of the dreams that still plagued him - she was well versed in helping to comfort him, just as he knew how to ease her grief and fear after a nightmare. It was the idea that they’d be sharing a bed that turned her stomach.

Gods what was she thinking? There were two months until the wedding. Was that long enough to forget everything Dorian was to her?

Manon knew the answer. And yet, when she read over their names again, she made herself remember why things had to be this way. Adarlan could not survive another war, especially one which tore it apart from the inside out. This was for the best. His and hers. This wedding would be closure, and afterwards, she could move on, search for a suitable consort. Not to become her king. She could not bear seeing anyone else beside her in that capacity. But finding an acceptable male to produce an heir would help to stabilize her kingdom. If Dorian was forced to set aside his heart to help his people, then she would do the same.

When she gave the reply to Glennis later, her grandmother frowned. “I find myself not wanting to send this.”

“It will be us and two sentinels. That’s all,” Manon said, ignoring the witch’s reluctance. “We will arrive the day before and leave immediately after the ceremony.” As Glennis nodded in agreement, Manon noticed she held a royal envelope in her other hand. “What is that?”

Again, that frown. “It’s from Prince Fennick Whitethorn of Doranelle. A cousin of Rowan’s I believe.”

“Was he in Orynth?” She didn’t recall him being there, but her memories from those early days battling Erawan’s army were foggy.

“I don’t think he was.”

Manon took it, examining front and back. The wax seal matched that of Queen Sellene Whitethorn. “What could this be?” she wondered aloud.

Glennis was already walking away, but she turned and said sharply, “I can only imagine.”

Manon was glad she waited until she was alone to read it, for by the end of it, she was sitting motionless, the letter forgotten on the floor.

Prince Fennick Whitethorn, a cousin to both Rowan and Queen Sellene, had written to express his regards and dismay at the news that the King of Adarlan would marry a noble from his own kingdom. He’d felt compelled to write her directly, offering her his support and friendship since he’d experienced something similar a few hundred years before. As Doranelle’s representative at the festivities, he hoped they could meet in Rifthold. In not so veiled terms, he suggested they might establish an alliance of their own, one that would be amenable to both their countries.

Mere hours after speculating about taking a consort and here she was, staring at a proposal. She couldn’t decide between outrage or amazement at the audacity of the fae male. It had certainly taken balls to approach her this way. And at this time. Picking up the letter, she read it over again. From the sounds of it, Fennick had been left heartbroken in his past. A past that extended even further back than her own. Had she not used her own immortality as a reason that Dorian should wed another? Here was an immortal throwing himself at her, eager for alliance. But she wondered if his interest would wane when he was told that at best, he might become her consort. There was only one man who she’d accept as her king, and he was now outside her reach.

She decided not to send a reply. If the fae prince was there, she would meet with him, see what kind of male he was and whether he might bring anything of worth to an alliance. If not, it would be one less thing to worry about.

That night, as she tried and failed to fall asleep, Manon found herself imagining how she might say goodbye to Dorian. They never used the word, choosing instead to focus only on their hellos. It made a twisted sort of sense that this goodbye, this parting that would be permanent, would be the first and last time it was spoken between them.

***

Yrene found Dorian in his office, watching the brutal winter winds send snow whipping through the air outside his window. Judging from her expression, she knew why he’d sent for her. When her eyes went to the letter on his desk, her shoulders seemed to slump, and she sat down heavily across from him.

“She will be attending,” he said, pushing the short reply across the desk in case she wanted to read it. After immediately recognizing the handwriting as Manon’s, he’d stared at it for a long time. As if there might be some sign of hesitation on her part, he’d examined the note, his eyes running over each stroke of ink, again and again. It was flawless. Just like her, he’d thought miserably.

“I didn’t think she’d actually come. It was meant as a formality between two allies.”

“Perhaps that’s why she has agreed. Formality, nothing more,” Yrene offered.

“How do you think Eveline will handle it?” Despite a wedding date only a few weeks away, Dorian barely spoke to his future queen. Yrene had been acting as a go between, keeping Dorian from having to feign pleasantries and interest in someone who he’d claimed looked and acted like an empty doll.

“She has been trained as a courtier since birth. I’m sure she will be as polite and ladylike as she always is.” Yrene rose and came around the desk, standing in front of the window to make Dorian look at her. “She may appear timid and vapid in front of her father, but she is no fool. She knows what this arrangement is and why it’s happening. Your involvement with Manon was never much of a secret. Eveline knows she is not your choice. But like you, she is doing her duty.”

Dorian didn’t reply. He knew his opinion of her was misguided, that it was based on anger at the situation, at her father. Which was why he kept his distance. If he couldn’t keep himself in check in private or with his friends, how could he expect to refrain from unleashing his rage on her with hurtful words? At least, that’s what he told himself. It was true, but some part of him knew that if he gave in and spent time with her, it would make this all the more real.

Yrene’s eyes darkened as she said, “Lord Frey has a reputation to match Chaol’s father. With her mother gone, I suspect Eveline has not had much control over her life. This would be nothing new to her.”

Now fully ashamed of himself, Dorian only nodded. If there was anything he could understand, it was not being able to defy a bullying parent. A new sense of sympathy filled him as he wondered how desperate Eveline must be for a new life. Freedom from an abusive father would be worth the heavy responsibilities and loss of privacy that came with being a queen. Maybe it was time to make an effort. He couldn’t envision a future where he would ever develop actual feelings for Eveline. But he could at least become her friend.

“What else have you learned about her?” he asked.

Yrene shrugged. “Her education has been extensive, and she knows much about the court and how it runs. She enjoys art and music, embroidery …” She trailed off, trying to think of any other attributes worth sharing. “Horse riding. She always seems to be coming back from the stables when I see her. I’ve gotten the impression her father does not approve of that hobby, but she maintains that being a good horsewoman befits a true lady.”

“So, she does disobey him then …” Dorian smiled slightly, recalling how he used to rebel against his parents. Horse riding was much less scandalous. “Does she need any help with the wedding plans?”

The suddenness of his change in tone had Yrene blinking at him. “I don’t believe so. But I can ask her.”

Dorian stood and walked towards the door. He knew if he didn’t start now, he never would. “I will go ask. I’d like to recommend some music.”

“Wait,” Yrene cried, trailing him out into the corridor. When she caught up to him, she asked, “What are you doing?”

The fear in her eyes almost made Dorian turn around and forget his pledge of moments ago to try and accept this. Yrene had always been the biggest supporter of his relationship with Manon. Whether she was helping them arrange a short, secret escape from their duties, or using her sharp tongue to tear down any detractors of the Witch Kingdom, or giving him advice on how to help Manon recover from the loss of her coven … Yrene had always been there. And now, for the first time, it seemed to be sinking in for her that what she had dreamed for her friends – a happily ever after to rival what she had with Chaol – was impossible. It pained Dorian to see it and he pulled her into a hug.

“If there was another way, Yrene, I’d do it. You know that.”

She hugged him back fiercely, her voice shaking as she said, “I know. She is my friend too, Dorian. And I don’t want to lose her.”

Gods, Dorian thought his heart couldn’t break anymore. And here it was, cracking into even more fragments, each time becoming smaller and smaller. “I know.”

Yrene backed away and let loose a string of curses and insults about Lord Frey that left his eyes wide and mouth agape. He’d never heard her speak like that before, had never thought her capable of such filthy language.

Before she could think to apologize, he laughed. “Well said, Lady!”

Red with embarrassment, Yrene burst into laughter too. When they’d both regained their composure, she said, “Come. I’ll walk with you to Eveline’s rooms and catch you up on her wedding plans.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “She is as much a pawn in this game as anyone, and she doesn’t deserve my animosity.”

Yrene nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s a perfectly lovely young woman. It makes things worse in a way.”

When they reached her rooms, Yrene led him inside.

“Your Majesty,” Eveline said brightly. Her dark hair matched her eyes and she gave him a beaming smile. “I was not expecting you today.” She was going through a stack of replies to the invitations.

“Please, call me Dorian. I insist,” he said. “I have one more to add.” Slowly, as if not wanting to give it up, he handed her Manon’s reply. He and Yrene both watched her carefully as she read it.

With the same smile as before, Eveline said, “I’m so pleased the Witch Queen will be attending. None of your other royal friends are able to come due to the weather. Though Doranelle is sending someone.” She paused, thinking. “I can’t remember his name.”

As the two women went through the replies and spoke quietly, Dorian pretended to listen. For one terrible moment, he wondered what the word princeling might sound like from Eveline’s mouth. The thought felt blasphemous, leaving him spinning and trapped between two worlds: the reality sitting next to him, this perfectly lovely woman for whom he felt nothing, and a dream world where he’d wake up happy each morning to snow white hair and golden eyes. A dream that had slipped through his fingers, like the wind gusting wildly outside.

Perfectly lovely. Eveline was lovely, and perfect, with exquisite manners, an impeccable wardrobe, and a distinguished education. But despite that loveliness and perfection, he knew without a doubt that his feelings towards Eveline would never come close to what he felt for Manon. Manon was his mirror, his equal. If beings other than fae were able to have true mates, she would be his.

The thought struck him like a dagger, straight to whatever bits of his heart yet remained. Shaking his head, Dorian tried not to think of Manon, of how this next visit for the wedding would likely be her last. Tried not to dwell on how he would have to live the rest of his life without her, his mate in every way that counted.

Of course, he failed. And when Eveline asked him about what music he’d prefer, Dorian used every ounce of strength he had left to force a smile on his face and answer.

To be continued...

***

Thanks for reading! You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m not sure who all is still out there. So if I missed you, or you’d like to be tagged/removed for parts two and three, let me know.

@itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @awesomelena555 @jimetg98 @over300books

#manorian #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #throne of glass #yrene westfall #chaol westfall #glennis crochan #my writing #manorian fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #only you

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isolemnlyswear · 4 years

Note

hello! can i request a modern marauder (you pick) x popstar!fem!reader (while they're still in hogwarts) to the song breathin by ariana grande as if it were the reader's song? <3 <3

breathin

a/n : this is the most specified request i've ever gotten, so it's kinda shitty ! i really have never wrote anything like this - at all - and i didn’t know if the reader was meant to be a muggle or not ????????? so i made them not one. bc you’re anon i cant ask you questions abt your request, so next time please specify!

continued a/n : wow, this is interesting. i dont like it, but !!! hope u enjoy????

warnings : swearing, bad writing

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @tomriddleswifey @inks-and-jinx @jxsperhxle @punkrific @the-gazette-of-tea @krasivayadarling @orifortheweeknd @fallin-4-ya @incxndio @daisyyy2516 @hoe4cedricdiggory @vsawyer1989

Remus sighed, glaring at the raven-haired boy beside him.

“What, s’gonna be fun!” Sirius grins, and the lycanthrope who’s refuting him simply laughs.

“Fun? Your idea of fun is a packed concert - full of muggles, nonetheless - for this...popstar woman?” Remus says incredulously, and Sirius raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, ho, ho, this is not any popstar, Moony. Plus, what else are we gonna do over the summer? Sulk around at your parents’ house?” Sirius grins again, and Remus lets out a sigh.

“The latter I can agree with. But who is this girl, anyway?” Remus inquires, and Sirius reaches into his back pocket to acquire his phone. Although Hogwarts doesn't allow modern technology, both Sirius and Remus have their own each for the summers. With how phone-centered the modern world is, they couldn't not.

He swipes through to find a picture of you - one obtained from your Instagram, which has over four million followers - and holds it up to Remus.

“Merlin,” he breathes, eyes scanning the image.

You're wearing a brown leather dress, the shoulders poking up just barely. Your hair is framing your face, legs tucked under you in a half-crouch, and you're looking into the camera with lips perfectly parted. It was one you took for the shoot of your newest album, and a particular favorite of yours.

“Gorgeous, right? She’s really talented, as well.” Sirius grins, looking at his best friend, who is unresponsive, with eyes glued on the screen. “Moony?” he waves a hand over the brunette’s face, who snaps out of his trance.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure.” Remus says, blinking a few too many times.

“So, you up for it now?”

“Alright,” Remus replies, nodding at Sirius, who pumps his fists into the air with a grin.

“She's American, but doing a show in London in a few weeks,” Sirius informs, smiling.

“American, huh? How old is she?” Remus asks, settling back into the couch they're perched on.

“That's the best part. She's our age - just turned eighteen.” Sirius grins again, putting his phone away.

“Oh yeah? You say that like she'd notice us. Never gonna happen, Pads.” Remus smiles, shaking his head.

“Expect the unexpected, mon amie.”

---

You're fiddling anxiously with your fingers, hands out of use as someone else is doing your makeup, rather than yourself.

“Almost done, Miss L/N,” Madelyn, your makeup artist, says, brushing a soft highlighter over your cheekbones.

“Mads, I told you that you can call me Y/N. You only do my makeup every day,” you say, closing your eyes as the woman pats highlighter into your inner corner.

“And...” she mists your face with setting spray, “...Done!”

---

About four hours later, your back is facing the crowd that's piled into the venue, stage lights shut off as only the sounds of quiet murmurs and shuffling feet hit your ears.

And then, the lights come on with a thumping click, and you begin the routine that you've practiced time and time again.

The music to your first song, the least vocally challenging of the set, begins, and you turn around with a sway of your hips.

Holding the mic to your mouth, you begin a one-step, two-step rhythm, one that's second nature to you; your eyes survey the crowd, left hand reaching to flip your hair.

The tune changes, and the beat is faster, now, as the lights begin to flash and your voice, in a habitual fashion, changes to match. You stride out rhythmically to the center of the stage.

You crouch in a fluid movement, thankful for the coverage your outfit gives you. It's a black sparkling jumpsuit, bottoms being a high-waisted, glimmering fabric with two side flaps, connected at your stomach to a matching corset-like top.

After a few minutes of usual song/dance routines, followed by cheers from the crowd, you decide it's time for a crowd interaction. It's difficult, resisting the urge to pull out your wand and cast a silencing charm to get the group's attention, but you opt for speech, instead.

"Alright, alright, everybody," you say into the mic with a laugh, eyes scanning the crowd for someone to converse with.

There's one man - his ebony hair is swishing as he speaks - who's bouncing up and down like an eager dog, and you laugh.

"We all excited to be here? In London!" you say, garnering numerous cheers and screams from the group.

"I can tell you are." You walk over to the raven-haired boy, who's in front row, and crouch down. He'd previously cheered extremely loud, confirming his excitement.

The boy makes a loud whoop'ing noise, getting a laugh from his friend.

His friend.

You continue to speak, walking over to someone else, but now your eyes are glued on him.

He looks about your age, with beautifully disheveled sandy brown hair and chocolate eyes. He has numerous scars littering his face, some new and red, some older and whitening.

You can't help but wonder what the scars are from, and you feel a strange attachment to the boy, though you've never spoken before.

And after a while, it's time for your final song. About a thirds of the way through, at your favorite part, you meander back over to the boys.

You lean over, disguising your position as a simple concert move, but you're really staring into the brunette's eyes.

"You remind me of a time when things weren't so complicated." The words fall from your mouth effortlessly, and you're able to search the boy's eyes as you sing. There's a spark in them, a glimmer of light that pulls you in.

"All I need is to see your face." You sing, still singing almost directly to the brunette.

You need to see more of him, you suddenly think. And you continue to sing the song, but all that swims around in your brain is a plan. A plan to erase the mystery behind the boy.

The show comes to a close, but before everyone has left, you pull your manager aside.

"Hey, Martin, this- this is an odd request, but could you ask these two boys to come backstage? That sounds, um, interesting, but would y'mind-"

"What do they look like?" Martin interrupts you, and you sigh in relief.

"One has longer black hair, and the other... sorta sandy brown hair, and some scars on his face. Can you find them from that?"

"I'll try."

You nod and thank him, running backstage to your small lounge and bathroom to await your mysterious visitors, changing quickly into clothes that are more comfortable; a simple silk dress, in a y/f/c hue, and a sweater to go over it.

You fiddle with your wand in your hands, mentally berating yourself.

It was quite a reckless decision, really. It's not like you had a valid reason for inviting these people to such a VIP space such as this. Just because you feel some weird connection to one of them didn't mean you could disregard everything. These boys are probably muggles, and you are not. Merlin, you're getting shipped off to Scotland next year after being home-schooled by your magical parents for eighteen years - just in time for your last year of school -going to a boarding school called Hogwarts (which would be a PR nightmare, but your parents insisted you needed some 'real-life experience').

But amidst your train of thought, you hear a knock at your door - two taps, three taps, your manager's code that it's okay to open the door - and you shove your wand into your (enlarged via Engorgio charm) pocket.

You stride over to the door, fiddling with the hem of your sweater, and open it to see Martin.

"Here they are, Miss L/N." He steps to the side to reveal the two boys, the darker-haired male standing in front, and you refrain from gasping when he steps forward, allowing you full view of the other boy.

The scars on his face are glimmering in the light, and his eyes are warm, pulling you in with every glance. His hair is perfectly tousled, and he's tall, over six foot two, or so you'd guess.

"Come in," you say, stepping aside to allow them entrance. You nod to Martin, signalling him to leave, and he does so, shutting the door and leaving you with the pair.

"Holy shit," the raven-haired boy says, and you realize he's only slightly shorter, about an inch less.

You laugh slightly, gesturing for them to sit down.

"Why are we back here?" the shorter one says, and you smile. He's made himself comfortable, seemingly the more outgoing, but the other one is still standing awkwardly beside you.

"You can relax, I'm not interrogating you," you say, smiling at the taller boy, who seems to let out a breath. "Why don't you introduce yourselves, and then we can talk, okay?"

"I'm Sirius, Sirius Black." The boy runs a hand through his dark hair, grinning.

"Ah, like the constellation? Brightest star in the sky," you say, and he nods.

"I'm, um, Remus. Remus Lupin," the other boy says tentatively, offering a smile.

"Hi, Remus," you say, nodding. "I don't want to assume you know my name, I'm aware you're not American, but considering you're at this concert-"

"Of course, we know your name, we're British, not daft," Sirius says with a playful scoff, and you laugh. "You're Y/N."

"That I am," you say with a giggle, and Remus grins. Your heart stops for a moment, the world coming to a halt as his eyes meet yours.

Sirius clears his throat, and a blush spreads onto the apples of your cheeks. You gulp, looking down.

"So, you didn't answer my question," Sirius starts, tilting his head, but Remus kicks his shin.

"Pads, chill," he whispers, shaking his head. Sirius shakes his head, looking at you.

"It's fine, really. 'M not that interesting, no need to be uptight," you say, smiling again.

"I'd beg to differ," Remus breathes.

After what feels like no time at all, but is really three hours, you've gotten any and all formalities out of the way. Well, all but one - you're still unsure if they're muggles, and they don't know that you're a witch, either.

That is, until Remus gets up to go to the restroom, and something tumbles out of his pocket.

Your first thought is how did something that long fit in a jean pocket, but then you see what it is.

It's a wand, about ten inches, cypress wood, with a small bulb at the end of it. You gasp, and Remus goes pale, stumbling to pick it up.

"Is that-" you start, but Sirius cuts you off.

"It's nothing," he says quickly, but you shake your head.

"That's a wand," you say slowly, and Remus is wide-eyed, nervously fidgeting.

"It-"

"No, no, no," you say, reaching into the pocket of your sweater and pulling out your own. Sirius and Remus simultaneously gasp as you brandish it in your hands, and you grin.

"You're a witch?" Remus asks, jaw slack.

"You're a wizard?" you return, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck yeah we are!" Sirius says, and you grin.

"What school?" Remus inquires, and you purse your lips.

"I was home-schooled, but this year - for my last one - I'm going to this school called Hogwarts? D'you know it?" you explain, garnering another gasp from the pair.

"That's where we go," Remus says, and your eyes light up.

"Really?!" you ask excitedly.

"Yeah! I guess you'll have some friends when you get there, at least," Remus assures, grinning.

"I bet Remus wishes you had a boyfriend to greet you," Sirius says, disguised with some coughs, and you blush. Remus kicks his friend in the shin again, and turns to you with a sigh.

"Sorry, he doesn't know what he's talking about," he says, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Does he not?" you ask flirtatiously, and it's Remus's turn to blush.

"Uh-"

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" you say with a mischievous grin, one returned by the sandy-haired boy in front of you.

#remus lupin x reader #wolfstar #sirius black x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #marauders

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strayinvelvet · 4 years

Text

still at it

work is starting to pile and you kind of expected your boyfriend to support you, not annoy you

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, implied enemies-to-lovers

wc: 1.3k

warning: swearing :(

a/n: happy hearts day, cuties! part of @districtninewriters dear skz, with love. this took so long mainly because of the recent news, yea. i’m so nervous about this i really hope i did the prompt and project some justice. phew (っ＾▿＾)💨. enjoyyy (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

“You’re insufferable.”

You rolled your eyes at the neon yellow post-it note placed on your office desk. It’s still early in the morning and you have a long eventful day ahead of you which is why you tried to get to work as early as possible.

The busy days have officially started for your company. Your partner company is planning to launch a new collection in their fast-growing fashion brand in Berlin and your company, being the most sought out marketing team in the industry, is tasked to implement the most appropriate marketing and advertising plan for the collection. Even the people working for you are already on their desks working on what they are assigned to do. Some are having coffee while some are already writing papers that are nearing their deadline. In conclusion, everybody looked busy and none of them looked suspicious enough to be part of this very eye catching note thing.

Rolling your eyes once again, you sat at your table and picked up the surprise note. Truthfully, even at first glance, you already know the person behind it. How could you forget this one of a kind handwriting, the one you so hated to see back when you were in high school. Han Jisung. That little shit is still going at it.

You folded it in half before placing it in between the pages of your planner. As if on cue, your secretary knocked on your office door asking for permission to enter. As soon as she entered your office, she immediately briefed you of your schedule for today. Meetings, briefings and scheduling of future meetings and partnerships. Exciting. You’re starting to regret all of your life choices.

“Oh and by the way, is this yours?” she showed another yellow note, “this was stuck on your office door.” You sighed. Just how many of these did he make? “Leave it on my table and then meet me at the meeting hall for the first meeting,” you gestured towards your table. “Will do.” with that, she left you to do your own stuff.

“And annoying.”

Yep, he’s one of the decisions you’re starting to regret (maybe not but you like exaggerating). You’re not gonna lie, at this time of the year, you expected little notes that would inspire you, make your heart sing love songs, or rush the blood to your cheeks. These notes, however, only made your blood boil. You swore that when you see him once you’re back from Berlin, he’s going to get it. You kept the note the same way you did to the previous ones. Goodness, if only he wasn’t a major player of your partner company.

You reached for your phone and dialed his phone number and true enough he answered just after two rings, “Are you fucking for real?”

You heard him laugh at the other line before asking your question, “Shouldn’t you be planning our marketing strategy?”

“I am and your lovely notes are helping me big time, seriously. And shouldn’t you be working on the collection’s designs instead of this bullshit?”

“Hey, I am currently approving those that are outstanding. I’m not like you who-”

You know he’s gonna bully you, you just know. So, you quickly ended the call before anymore bullshit comes out of his mouth. With your nth eye roll for the day, you stood up to attend your first agenda.

Hours passed and the series of formal business stuff is starting to get to you. Your butt is sore from sitting all day, plus your muscles are in dire need of a stretch. The last meeting of the day has just been adjourned minutes ago and you and your secretary are taking your time to breathe in your office. "Miss Y/n, your trip to Berlin is in two days. Have you packed?” well until your secretary went to business mode real quick.

“Kim, please, give me a minute,” you laughed but answered her question nonetheless, “Yes, I have and oh, can you try to squeeze in my schedule for the first four days so I could have the last two to myself?”

“That would drain you,” she answered confusingly. She’s not wrong, tho. You contemplated for a while but honestly, you wanted to explore Berlin too and you can’t do that by sitting in a meeting room for a week. “Better than seeing Berlin through a floor-to-ceiling window glass pane.”

Kim nodded, "I will update your schedule. Maybe you should bring your boyfriend over," she suggested which also suggests that she doesn’t know who the notes are from. “It’s a business trip, Kim. And I don’t know if i should agree or disagree with that.”

You both laughed lightly before Kim left you to fix your schedule per your request. You, on the other hand, are willing to give everything just to lay on your bed or have a warm shower. Whatever door is nearer to your entrance. So you left as fast as you arrived at this building just to feel the comfort of your home.

The apartment you were greeted with is not the same apartment you left. You left yours with unfolded clothes everywhere, full trash bin and sink and a disorganized living room. You tend to be messy when you’re ridiculously busy. But this, the place in front of you, is like a whole different scene. Every corner is squeaky clean from the shoe organizer to the kitchen. The apartment lights are also set to dim with candle lights and all but enough to see everything. Soon after, the smell of delicious food wafted through your nose.

The hints are giving you an idea of what is going on.

You went to the kitchen only to see a romantic dinner set up complete with those fancy utensils, fancy food, candles and wine, and of course, a yellow note.

“But i’m willing to suffer for you. Happy valentines, baby”

This dork, you thought while smiling like a goof (which you tried to hide).

“Han Jisung!” you called him. His head peeped through the doors of your bedroom with a big grin on his face. “Were you surprised?”

You couldn’t contain the smile anymore and so you let it out, “come here.” You gestured to him to come over with your arms hanging in the air as if waiting for him to come nearer so you could wrap it around his neck. He came out with a bouquet of fresh daisies in his hand which he had to place on top of the dining table in order to accept your cuddle invitation. Jisung kissed your forehead before securely wrapping his arms on your waist. “Did you like it?”

“Aside from being partly annoyed, yes actually,” you tightened your arms around his neck so you could pull him down to give him a proper kiss. This wasn’t part of your relaxation plan but you are glad to welcome him in your routine, as always. The kiss was starting to get heated when you pulled away from him and loosened your grip, making him look at you with a questioning gaze.

“Thank you for cleaning my apartment and all this.”

“Anything for you, my love,” he kissed your cheek, “and I also did almost half of your work in Berlin so you could relax a little,” then he kissed your other cheek. For some reason, he has to accompany each of his sentences with a kiss. But nevertheless, it still made you giggle. “I’m not thanking you for the notes, though- wait, am i really insufferable?” You looked at him like you’ve just been betrayed. Out of all people, he had the audacity to tell you you’re the insufferable one?

He smiled, “no baby,” he pecked your lips before continuing, “ you just annoy me sometimes.”

“So you just had to annoy me first?” you asked with a smirk forming on your lips.

He shrugged, “guess I’m still at it.” This time, he accompanied his replies with a brush to your stray hair with his fingers just so he could look at you properly. You squished his chubby cheeks together, forming a pout in his already adorable face.

“Yeah,” you pecked the pout you forced, “I guess we’re still at it.”

end.

yayyy omg this may or may not be from an e2l au that is currently sitting in my drafts hmm

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stray kids x reader #han x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids au #han jisung #stray kids scenarios #skz x you #skz x reader #skz au #skz scenario #stray kids

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Note

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right?

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant.

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it.

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda.

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.”

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him.

That would be heaven.

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #anon chatter :)#x reader #oh to have a polite nagito ghost you can pull out chairs for and look up his tragic backstory

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btsmosphere · 4 years

Text

Crossfire | KTH

Moodboard Masterlist

~summary: The night your life blew up sent you on a collision course with the campus bad boy, Kim Taehyung. Though you were well aware of his reputation, it was his doorstep you ran to when you were bleeding with nowhere to go.

~word count: 5k

~gang!au, mafia!au, college!au, angst, fluff, action, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating (warnings apply to each part individually, please read them)

~a/n: this week our gal gets some shit done and comes to a realisation due to Yoongi... also I am once again thanking everyone for supporting this story💜💜love you all,, n for those of you who haven’t heard I’m going to be posting a spooktober story soon so stay tuned...

“I want to help.”

Tae paused in the doorway, a steaming plate in each hand, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“Huh?”

“I want to do something to help, you know, with the plan,” you eagerly pressed on.

“Oh,” Taehyung nodded, but a pout remained on his face as he kicked the door shut gently behind him, “the plan with Shinhyuk?”

“Yep.”

Nervously eyeing him as he shifted onto the bed, you waited for him to speak. Instead, he just passed you one of the plates and began to tuck in.

“Taehyung?”

“Mmm,” he hummed indistinctly, looking up at you, cheeks full of food.

“So… can I help?”

For just a moment, his bewildered stare was all that greeted you and his chewing slowed.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, as if it was obvious.

“Oh. Okay.”

Admittedly, you hadn’t expected it to be that easy. As you began to eat yourself, Taehyung quickly went back to devouring his own meal without a second thought.

For once, the two of you were inside together during the day as it was the weekend and he wasn’t required for anything except a meeting, which was happening at his place anyway. With him here, you didn’t really need anything else to pass the time, but he had still vowed to bring you some more books soon, given that you had worked your way through the first pile completely now.

After last night, and if you were honest with yourself, even before that, any worry about being around Taehyung had faded away. Not only could you easily pass the time chatting, you very much enjoyed your time with him.

However, once you had both finished your food, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door announcing the arrival of the boys and the start of the meeting.

Only four had come as Jimin and Yoongi were out, doing ‘something’. You didn’t ask for details.

Taking the seat furthest from the window, hopefully hidden by Taehyung who sat beside you, you simply stayed quiet for most of the conversation. They didn’t need your input anyway; the plan sounded like it was progressing as well as it could be.

First of all, Jungkook and Namjoon confirmed the first members of Shinhyuk’s group they had managed to pick off, including the leader of a base inside his territory, though the rest were low-level: drivers, informants, dealers, fighters. Not enough to make his gang disappear by any stretch.

Not yet anyway, as Namjoon kept saying in encouragement.

As they resolved to keep digging through rival members, the real challenge was finding an in within Shinhyuk’s immediate circle – the ones who apparently were mainly stationed at what used to be your house.

“All I have is names,” Jungkook sighed, “even though I’m one of them, no one reveals anything about themselves.”

“Even the names might be fake,” Jin reminded him.

“I know,” Jungkook jammed his hands through his hair, “and there’s one – Jintao – he really doesn’t trust me. Makes it difficult for me to do anything. Always has his eyes on me.”

“Y/N can help,” Taehyung cut in then, causing four heads to turn sharply in your direction. You refused to squirm under their glares.

“Tae…” Jin was the first to speak, “it’s dangerous. I’ve been staking out Shin’s clubs and I’ve almost been caught so many times trying to talk to people-“

“She doesn’t have to go out on missions,” Tae reasoned, “a lot of snooping can be done from inside, and since she doesn’t have much else to do…”

“We have access to hackers, Tae,” Namjoon dismissed.

Biting your lip, you looked down. Since Tae had accepted your request to help so easily, you weren’t exactly prepared for this analysis. Perhaps it was stupid to think you would be able to assist these boys.

“She’s just as much a part of this as we are,” Taehyung surprised you with the ferocity in his voice, “she’ll be able to help. And I’ll let her even if you guys don’t.”

Namjoon in particular looked shocked by the younger boy’s unwavering words, but you watched in relief as he gave his assent with a nod, the others raising no further argument.

“What raids are coming up, Jungkook?” Hoseok brought the meeting back on track, prompting Jungkook to relay all the dates Shinhyuk had deals or attacks planned.

You listened as the boys decided which to focus on, though again they were frustrated by their lack of progress. Until Jungkook felt safe again, they weren’t going to counter any attacks, but they could make sure no one would be in the target properties to keep their allies out of danger.

Overall, the meeting left each of you feeling unsatisfied. This war with Shinhyuk was like having an unbearable itch while your hands were tied behind your back. You could only hope their careful preparation would eventually lend them the upper hand when they felt confident enough to retaliate.

With restless minds but nothing to do, Taehyung asked his friends to stay and a movie was agreed upon. As you had observed before, the boys relaxed remarkably quickly, and you were soon laughing with Hobi and Tae as you poured out snacks in the kitchen.

As you collected the packets, Hoseok returned to sit down. You and Tae had barely set foot around the corner when Hoseok let out a yell.

Startled, your head whipped around to find Yoongi standing silently in the doorway, leaning against one side, arms folded and a murderous expression.

“I didn’t see you there,” Hoseok breathed, laughing with a hand over his heart.

Before you could stop it, a snort escaped you, barely choked back, remembering exactly what you had said about Yoongi the night before. Luckily, you weren’t the only one, as you heard Taehyung beside you laughing through his nose, more successful at suppressing the sound.

“I hope there’s good news from the meeting,” Yoongi glared at you two, “I’m going bloody insane dancing around Shinhyuk like this.”

Everyone switched straight back to business mode around you, but you made the mistake of glancing over at Taehyung.

As soon as you made eye contact, neither of you could control yourselves and you had to fight to keep in your mirth. The dark warning glances from the other boys did nothing but fan the flames. Taehyung bit down on his lips as they threatened to break out into laughter; your cheeks ached.

Sinking onto the sofa, Taehyung looked pointedly away from you, shoving his fist into his mouth, shoulders still shaking.

With the tears brimming in your eyes, you didn’t care to listen to Yoongi as he talked about whatever he and Jimin had just come back from. When Jimin came in, a strangled laugh leapt from your mouth before you clamped it shut again, but you had set Tae off again.

The orange-haired boy across the room stared at you both like you were crazy.

“What’s your problem?” Yoongi’s sour face only made it harder to remove him from the ridiculous cartoon stereotype and Taehyung finally broke, guffawing loudly with his head thrown back, before falling against you and clinging to your shoulder, tears running down his face.

Shocked to find Taehyung’s head suddenly pressed into the crook of your neck, your breathless laugh was finally cut off. All you could do was stare down at him with a smile as he pulled himself together, wheezing dramatically the whole time.

At last, he seemed to realise himself and abruptly let go of your shirt. Pulling back, you were face to face for a second, expressions reflecting each other’s surprise, before he closed his mouth and turned back to Yoongi with a flawless poker face.

“Nothing.”

And then you were laughing again.

The prospect of Yoongi almost definitely hating you now didn’t bother you anymore. In the days following the meeting, you had begun to work through the list of names Jungkook had scribbled down of the members of Shinhyuk’s current inner members:

-Gi Beomho- has a Gwangju accent?

-Chaewon/known as Seb

-(Lee?) Minho

-Soonjae

-Jintao

Taehyung had told you his laptop password and you began trawling through the internet for any traces.

Though you were by no means a hacker, one of your friends at college, Jake, had once showed you a few things he knew how to do from his course in computing. Not to mention you were able to stalk someone very efficiently on social media from investigating the hot guy Lisa had seen on the street, or finding Soo’s mysterious girlfriend she refused to introduce to your group.

Now, though, there were no friends laughing around you as you tried to take apart the gang that was living in your house.

After your first afternoon of searching, nothing fruitful came up. When Taehyung had come back in the evening, you were more than happy to abandon the task and join him in your usual dinner routine, falling asleep soon after when you settled down together to watch a film.

But as the days progressed, you became more determined and frustrated in equal measure as you came across few things. You had worked your way through 3 people, giving up only after you had exhausted every avenue you could think to investigate.

Lee Minho took you even longer than the others to rule out, though you suspected from the beginning it was an alias since he shared the name with the famous actor, meaning there was an immense amount of unrelated material cluttering any path to finding the gang member, no matter what you searched.

Slumping back against the headboard, you set the laptop aside and flipped it shut.

Your attempt at working your way through the newest stack of books Taehyung had brought you was much slower than the first time around. Until he came back home, you barely took in the words.

At your side, a notebook containing the few possible leads consistently stole your attention instead.

You had managed to gain access to a couple of police reports on a Gi Beomho in Gwangju, but you would have to verify with Jungkook whether the photo was of the right person, or if you were barking up the wrong tree entirely.

When Tae finally arrived, you anxiously greeted him. Today Shinhyuk had planned his largest attack yet, on a shop that was a front for gang activity, and you knew all the boys had been on standby.

Taking in the scattered books, paper and laptop on the bed, his shoulders slumped.

“Nothing yet?”

“No, sorry,” you confirmed with a sigh.

“Don’t apologise,” he reached out and rubbed a hand along your upper arm to your shoulder. There it lingered, fingers slowly massaging for a moment.

“Were you hurt today?”

In only the short time since he came in, he had only squeezed out a smile once as he tried to reassure you.

At the shake of his head, you felt a knot in your chest release. But he still wasn’t happy.

“So what happened?”

“We didn’t go in at all. It was a lost cause,” he sat on the bed and kicked his shoes off without energy, “he shut the whole place down. It’s done for.”

With another huff, he fell back to lie on the bed. You did the same.

Weighty silence hovered over you both.

You had no idea how long you merely stared up at the ceiling, paralysed, before Taehyung moved. Slowly, he reached his hand out, fingers finding yours. As he intertwined your hands where they lay between you, you simply let your eyes slide shut, squeezing back.

“I know you’ll find something.”

Though you appreciated his support, he said it to assure himself as much as you.

Whether he could see or not, you nodded.

Just then, Tae’s familiar ringtone chimed in the silence. Pulling his phone from a pocket, he held it above him, checking the caller. Deciding it was worth it, he reluctantly pulled his had from yours to push himself up as he swiped across the screen and held the device to his ear.

Sitting up too, you could hear Jungkook’s voice crackling out from the phone.

“Hyung, I think I-I messed up-“

“Woah, Jungkook, what happened?”

“I was in Shinhyuk’s car, and I saw a file in there, he was looking through it, and it had you guys in it! It was labelled ‘bangtan’ and it’s full of information on everyone- I didn’t know he had that, but I just- I panicked, and I stole it, and now I have it but Shinhyuk’s leaving before me and he’ll notice it’s gone and- fuck-“

You caught Tae’s eye as you both listened in horror to the scared maknae.

“Where are you Kook?” Tae demanded, eyes breaking from yours.

“Um, at Y/N’s,” he replied, “the others are just packing away-“

But before he could finish, you had reached over and pulled the phone right out of Taehyung’s grasp.

“Jungkook,” you hissed into the receiver, “there’s two loose floorboards under my wardrobe at the back, they’re pretty quiet to move, can you hide it in there?”

“Uh, yeah,” the boy responded, “thanks.”

You lowered the phone to return to Tae, but suddenly brought it back to your ear.

“And don’t look at any of the stuff that’s already in there!”

“Oh- okay,” the boy sounded startled, but Tae seemed to find your miniature panic hilarious as he took the phone back and hung up.

Saying nothing, he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked at you.

“Oh, shut it,” you ignored the heat rising in your cheeks and shoved him lightly back onto the bed, where he only laughed louder.

“It’s not even- oh you are ridiculous,” you cried as he pulled you down on top of him, only making you turn redder.

In your embarrassment, you tried to wriggle away from him, pushing on his chest, but he grabbed your wrists, bringing you back down, grin ever-present on his face.

“Hey!” you protested, and then, “Ya! Stop! Tae-“

His hands reached down to tickle your sides, and you squirmed away from him again, only to have him follow, ending up on top of you as he mercilessly continued his attack, enjoying himself far too much.

“Ohmygod, ahh, Tae, please, aaaahahaha…”

Struggling, you writhed around, legs kicking out as you shrieked in protest before you finally reached his sides and exacted your revenge. He curled in on himself, giggling and apologising to get you to stop. You did, eventually, only to throw a pillow right at his face, though he easily caught it in the hands he had held up in surrender.

Both collapsing back onto the bed, you turned your head to one side, but you found he was already looking back at you. His laughter had dissipated into a smile which you returned.

“Thanks for helping out Kook,” he said earnestly, eyes boring into yours, “I told you that you would be helpful.”

This time, your heart soared with his praise.

You weren’t hopeful about finding ‘Soonjae’, or anything that could bring him away from Shinhyuk. Having gone through half the list already, the remaining two were the people Jungkook had the least information on.

Trudging through the morning, you were reluctant to take to the computer and be met with more inevitable defeat. Today you felt particularly tired, which didn’t help.

It was strange since you had slept for a long time, waking only after Taehyung had gone, leaving you missing his presence, even if you barely touched him while you shared a bed.

Nonetheless, you found yourself sifting through links and articles online, far from the first page of Google filled with celebrities and international news. With the little information you had on the man, you ended up reading through anything and everything containing the name Soonjae. Facebook profiles, comments on newspaper articles, a GoFundMe page…

Taking a sip of water, you scrolled idly to the bottom of the GoFundMe, which was for a child after all, no gang member, and read the ‘recent’ donations (the most recent being over a year old) and comments. Nothing.

Clicking on ‘show more’, you pulled up the full comment list and scanned through. For what, you weren’t sure. Most donations were small bits and pieces, but among the ones from three years ago, one was a little more sizeable. Along with it came an interesting comment: a woman called Sara was apologising for her ‘previous words’ and wishing the boy well.

You frowned as you read it. Though it was almost certainly unrelated, you were undeniably curious as to what she might have said to target an ill child.

Clicking next on the woman’s account, you decided to try and log in. After employing the password tricks Jake had showed you, you made it. The account had been created the same day as the donation was made on little Soonjae’s page, and appeared untouched since. You supposed this tangent had come to nothing, though you were certainly pleased with your skills after getting into the account.

Closing down the tab, you searched next for ‘Soonjae GoFundMe’. There was the campaign you had already seen, followed by a few that proved to be unrelated as well. You selected ‘next page’ with little hope.

Then something caught your eye.

About halfway down, the name Sara.

Quickly selecting the page, you found yourself on Facebook instead of GoFundMe, but what you found was certainly interesting. It was the same woman from the earlier page. This time she had posted a status:

If anyone on here donates to Soonjae’s fucking gofundme get ready to be cut out of my life XD cheaters don’t deserve your pity

That was certainly interesting. No wonder she had apologised to the boy – it also explained her big donation – probably given out of guilt.

But re-reading the status, you realised she couldn’t possibly be talking about the boy. Unless by ‘cheater’ she meant that he had cheated on a test in school, but you suspected that was not the case.

You clicked on her profile.

Her profile picture showed her holding a little boy that must be around ten, standing on a beach. Flipping through her older profile images, they stopped three years ago. Perhaps she had deleted all previous ones?

Only friends can see Sara’s photos

Only friends can see Sara’s timeline

“Not just friends…” you muttered, getting to work.

Unluckily for Sara, she had used the same password as on her GoFundMe, so you logged in easily.

The first thing you saw was that she reportedly lived in your city: a promising start. Scrolling through to three years ago, you saw only one other post close in time to her attack on Soonjae and his fundraising page:

Sara is feeling: heartbroken X(

That lead you nowhere, so you made your way back up her feed, seeing photos of her son and meals with friends. Few stuck out as anything but happy, all possibly related to the mysterious events of three years ago.

That’s right, delete your fucking facebook. I don’t need to worry about blocking you now XD

Sara is feeling: defeated☹: Just got out of court. Nrs

What was the point in all this? Just to prove something? Well you did, you proved I was right all along

Now you really were intrigued. You needed to find out what was going on, she was definitely linked to a Soonjae in your city, so you had reason to investigate further. Still, as you clicked on the messages icon, you felt very much like a trespasser.

Searching for ‘Soonjae’ at the top, two conversations were pulled up, both from three years ago. One with ‘Park Soonjae’ and one with ‘Help Soonjae’.

First choosing ‘Help Soonjae’, recognising the profile picture as the same image used on the GoFundMe, you read the exchange of messages.

Sara: What the fuck is this?

Sara: I can’t believe you’re pulling the pity card after what you’ve done

Help Soonjae: Excuse me?

Sara: You know what I mean

Help Soonjae: Ma’am, I don’t know you but please calm down. I will block you, this page is only trying to raise hospital funds for my son. I’d thank you to explain how this is ‘pulling the pity card’

Sara: Wait… Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!

Sara: I can’t apologise enough, I thought this was my husband’s page, he has the same name as your son! I didn’t check the page before messaging, I didn’t mean to offend you or your son

Sara: I’ll make a donation to your page to make up for this. I wish your son the best

Read 15:47

And that was the end of that. Wincing with second hand embarrassment, you quickly moved on to ‘Park Soonjae’.

Soon, you realised that the message history was long, but it all ended three years ago. You gave up on scrolling your way to the top, seeing that most messages consisted of ‘I love you’s and reminders to buy milk. The final conversation, however, gave you a lot more information.

Sara: What the fuck is this?

Then followed a screenshot of a GoFundMe page: Help Soonjae win Custody

Sara: You cheated. Maybe you should write that in your description.

Soonjae: Sara, I’ve told you I’m sorry

Sara: And I’ve told you that’s not enough. We are over

Soonjae: I can understand that. I just can’t understand why you want to keep my son from me!

Sara: HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL?!?!

Sara: I never want to see you again, and I don’t want kai to either

Soonjae: How can I make it up to you without going to court? I can’t afford the fees and you know it

Sara: You can’t ‘make it up’ to me. And it’s not my problem anymore if you can afford it or not. I’m blocking you

And that was it.

You wasted no time in opening Soonjae’s profile in a new tab, before taking a screenshot of the messages and logging out of Sara’s account.

Soonjae’s account was indeed deleted, confirming him as the target of Sara’s earlier status update. One search for new profiles under the same name showed no one promising. Your ‘breakthrough’ seemed more trivial now you had taken a step back from it. Without a picture of the Soonjae you had found, you couldn’t confirm if you were on the right target.

You had one last option, and searched for the GoFundMe Sara had sent a screenshot of. At last you found it, though it took a while as it had been declared finished and was from so long ago.

But, once you opened it, it turned out Sara’s screenshot hadn’t included the full photo at the top of the campaign. It had only showed a baby cradled in someone’s arms, but on the site, the full photo extended to show the man’s face.

This time, you did not scroll down.

You just stared.

There would be no need for Jungkook to verify if this was the right man. Those eyes had stared at you before from underneath a hoodie in your own bedroom not so long ago. And the hands that held his son had given you the wound in your side.

“Holy shit…” you breathed, taking a screenshot when you recovered from your shock.

Then you proceeded to scroll down. And it seemed like you had hit the jackpot.

The description had been updated, and the last lines read:

Thanks for the generosity. This page will be deactivated as I have now sourced funding from a private benefactor. Will update those who donated on the court result.

“Tae! Oh my god-“

You froze on the stairs.

On hearing the door opening downstairs, you had presumed Taehyung had returned, but instead, Yoongi stood in the hallway.

“Hi,” he said coolly.

“Sorry,” you murmured, but didn’t retreat back upstairs. Staring back at him, laptop and notebook clutched in your arms, you felt the need to share your breakthrough.

After a few seconds glaring at you, Yoongi moved away down the hallway. Taking a breath, you followed.

“Um, sorry, I thought you were Tae,” you spoke from the door.

“Ok,” came his short reply as he rooted in the fridge.

“Actually, er,” you pushed, making the boy at least turn around and acknowledge your presence, “I wanted to show him something. But… I can show you instead. You know how I was searching up Shinhyuk’s closest members, well, I think I found something.”

His unimpressed face vanished at least a little, and he nodded, taking a swig from the drink he had picked.

“Okay,” you placed the laptop on the island and opened the screenshots you had saved, “so I found this woman’s messages with a Soonjae in the city, they were getting divorced but he couldn’t afford the legal costs to fight for custody of their son.”

Yoongi leaned forwards to read the screen and you stepped aside, worrying your lip. Watching him read, you leaned against the counter to support your tired legs.

“Bastard,” he muttered.

“Pardon?”

“He cheated on her,” he said simply, gesturing towards the screen, drink in hand.

You hummed in agreement and flipped onto the second image.

“He set up this GoFundMe, but see how it says he then received funding from elsewhere.”

“Could be Shinhyuk, definitely,” Yoongi agreed, “I can send Jungkook this guy’s picture-“

“Actually, you don’t have to,” you cut in, “I, er, I recognise him. He was one of Shinhyuk’s that broke into my place.”

“Shit,” Yoongi breathed, turning to take a look back at the man on the screen, “good catch.”

“Thanks,” you couldn’t help but smile, “so… what now?”

Setting his drink aside, Yoongi bent over the counter and opened a new tab, sending the images to his own email, along with a final one of Sara’s details on Facebook.

“I think we have enough to work with. We can use the details for leverage and approach him.”

“Nice,” you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling. Even if only Yoongi was around to see it, you were just proud to have hopefully helped bangtan get another rival under their belt, and get closer to defeating Shinhyuk.

It seemed Yoongi had finished with the laptop, even though he hadn’t yet left the kitchen or even picked his drink up again. Awkwardly, you stepped closer to shut the laptop and slide it off the counter.

Taking a stride back towards the door, you hesitated.

“Well, erm, thanks, I’ll just- yeah.”

“Wait.”

You turned back around, surprised at just how small Yoongi’s voice sounded. Not knowing what to say, you waited as he stood shuffling his feet.

At last he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Listen, I’m sorry for, you know… trying to kill you that time,” he said. His voice was quiet, as if a lower volume would allow him to pretend he never said it.

“Well there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear,” you chuckled.

“No, I really am,” he spoke stronger this time, actually looking at you, “I know I haven’t been the nicest and-“

“No, it’s okay,” you flashed him another smile, “I know you were just trying to protect Tae.”

He fell silent again for a moment, and you thought that might be it. But something was still on the tip of his tongue and he looked down, one hand coming to scratch his ear.

“I want to tell you I’m happy for you guys. You seem… well, really nice, and I know Tae thinks so too, and I trust him, so… yeah.”

Gulping, he looked up at you, trying to hide his mortification at the barrage of emotion he had just released. You just stared back at him, lost for words.

Maybe he had said something wrong?

“A-and, thank you for doing this work on Shinhyuk’s gang, it’ll really help us. What you did was really impressive-“

“I-I’m sorry,” you finally spluttered out, “what did you mean when you said you- you’re… you’re happy for us?”

Looking back at you, his eyes widened.

“Shit, are you guys not-“

You tried to swallow down any signs of how flustered you were, clutching the laptop tighter in front of your chest. Perhaps he didn’t mean what you thought he might-

“I thought you guys were dating. Shit.”

You couldn’t agree more with that last sentiment.

Just as you opened your mouth, without knowing what you planned on saying, you were saved by the bell. Or rather, the door.

Tae had finally come home. It would be an understatement to say he was surprised to find you and Yoongi together, in conversation too apparently. Hopefully Yoongi had finally quit his tough act and exposed his softness that Tae had insisted you would find eventually.

Yoongi was quick to inform Tae of what you had dug up on Soonjae. Taehyung put his hand on your shoulder, sending you a proud grin that made your heart race as he told you he knew you could do it.

The whole time you were aware of Yoongi watching the interaction, and you excused yourself as soon as you could, leaving the boys to themselves.

Practically running up the stairs, you were left panting as you closed the door to the bedroom. Just one short burst of speed had knocked you out, but that concern barely crossed your mind as you surrendered to the mattress, thinking only of what Yoongi had told you.

He thought you were dating? Ridiculous…

But then why had the suggestion got to you so much? Sure, you shared a bed with the guy, and you enjoyed being with him, and liked it when he held your hand or hugged you…

Fuck.

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plaidbooks · 4 years

Note

Prompt: I am your new neighbor and I got locked out help. Lawyer Sonny because that man needs to loosen up and get a friend.

Locked Out

A/N: This ended up being slightly different than you asked, but I agree that Sonny needs a friend! I hope you enjoy and thanks for requesting!

Tags: none, just a bad day

Words: 1220

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @shroomiehomie @glimmerglittergirl @alwaysachorusgirl @joanofarkansass @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @dreamlover31 @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell

Today was the worst day on a pile of bad days. You couldn’t even be happy that it was Friday, the weekend stretched in front of you. Saturday would be spent sleeping in to recover from your exhaustion and trying to pull yourself out of your shitty mood. And then Sunday would be dedicated to cramming as many errands and chores together as possible before work on Monday. You hated it, hated the monotony…and your job. Even thinking about work on Monday was enough to clench your jaw, frustrated tears in your eyes.

Of course, the elevator in your building was busted, so you started climbing the stairs to your apartment, your anger increasing with every step you took until you reached the 4th floor. You shoved your hand in your pocket, clenching your key in a fist. You stuck it in the keyhole and turned, but it held fast.

“Oh, come on,” you muttered, trying to turn it again. But the key didn’t move. Gripping the doorknob, you tried to force it to turn, but it stayed resolutely locked. You redoubled your efforts, one hand trying to turn the key, the other trying to turn the doorknob.

“Let me in, dammit!” you yelled through clenched teeth. You continued trying until the key snapped in your hand. You let out a frustrated growl, pounding on the stupid door, calling it every name under the sun.

You didn’t even hear a person approaching you from behind. “Uh, may I help you?”

You whipped around, face to face with a tall man in an immaculate suit, attaché in hand. You scoffed—this man trying to help you—before turning back to your door.

“I don’t need your help. My damn key broke, and I need to call a fucking locksmith,” you spat back.

The man shifted uncomfortably. “Um…that’s my door though?” It was a statement, but he phrased it like a question, obviously not wanting to piss you off more.

You stopped fighting the door long enough to look at the address. 4B. You groaned—you were 4D. Unbidden, tears flooded your eyes, spilling over and down your cheeks. You leaned forward against the door, not wanting this stranger to see you cry—especially since he was a neighbor—but being unable to stop your tears.

“H-hey, it’s fine! I’ll call a locksmith, okay?” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. You heard him give the details to the locksmith, and you moved to sit against the wall, sobbing against your knees.

The man hung up, then leaned against the wall opposite you—not like he could go home. You took care of that for him. “He said maybe 20 minutes before he’s here.” You nodded vaguely, still hiding your face. “My name’s Dominick by the way…” but you were hardly listening, stuck in a loop of self-hatred and misery.

Sonny fell into silence, unsure how to cheer you up. But your little sniffles were making him frown. “Look, everyone has a bad day…I’m not upset or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he tried.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” you muttered, your voice muffled.

He let out a soft sigh. “You’re not, I promise. Humans make mistakes, especially when upset. It happens—” “Please stop talking.”

Sonny shut his mouth, resigned to waiting for the locksmith while he scrolled through emails, trying to ignore your soft sobs.

Eventually, the locksmith appeared. Sonny shook his hand, then explained what had happened and how he’d need to unlock both doors. The man laughed at your stupidity, and your face grew warmer in humiliation. You moved aside, letting him work on Sonny’s door, but Sonny instead directed him to your place. He figured you’d want to get out of there quickly.

The locksmith took about 2 minutes to pop your lock open, and without saying thank you, you rushed in and slammed the door behind you. You needed a hot shower and to really cry, to let it all out. Besides, you had a spare key inside.

Sonny winced as the door slammed shut. “Guess you’re paying for this, then?” the locksmith joked, grinning and elbowing Sonny in the ribs.

“Y-yeah, that’s fine,” he replied, still thinking about how upset you were. The locksmith went and knelt in front of Sonny’s door, working on pulling the broken key out. But his mind was working on something to do for you. Since becoming an ADA, bad days were happening more frequently in Sonny’s life, and he was trying to think of things he’d like to cheer up. An idea came to him just as the locksmith popped his door open.

“Thank you,” Sonny said, pulling his wallet out and paying the man. He went into his own apartment, setting his case down and moving to change into a Henley and sweats. Then, he started taking out pots and pans, setting in on dinner.

************

After standing in the shower until your hot water ran out, you moved to pour yourself a drink and then flop on the couch. You thought about bed, about just sleeping this shitty day away, but alcohol may help. So, you sipped idly, watching whatever was on tv, replaying the whole week in your head.

There was a knock on your door, but you ignored it; you didn’t want to talk or see anyone. But they didn’t go away, knocking again. You clutched your glass tighter as they knocked a third time. Slamming your drink down, you stomped over to the door, throwing it open.

“What?!” you yelled as you answered.

Sonny stood in your doorway, blinking. He shuffled uncomfortably, then held up a little container. “I thought I’d make you some food? I know when I have a shitty day, I don’t want to cook….”

You closed your eyes, cursing yourself for yelling at him. “I—thank you. It’s just…it’s been a week….”

“Look, I get it. Everyone has bad days, weeks. Including me. We just gotta pick ourselves up, remember the good things in life…like free food,” he ended with a smile. Your lips twitched upwards, and he gave you a bigger grin. “There’s a smile.”

His mood was infectious, and you smiled for real. You took the container gratefully, placing it on the table just inside your door. Sonny turned to leave, making it a few steps before you went after him.

“Wait!” you said, making him stop and turn back towards you. Without thinking, you launched into his chest, hugging him tightly. Sonny hesitated a moment before he wrapped your arms around you loosely. “Thanks again, for everything.”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against your cheek. “No problem; we all need help sometimes.”

You slowly let go of him, leaning away. “What was your name again?” you asked, embarrassed that you just hugged someone you didn’t know.

“Dominick. But you can call me Sonny, if you want.”

You grinned. “My sonshine on a rainy day.” That made him smile, a big, goofy grin that made you melt. “I like Dominick, though. It’s a good name.”

“Yeah, I like it too…. Well, enjoy dinner. I’m going to go do some dishes. Have a nice night.”

“Thank you again…. Have a good night, yourself.”

You both separated, going to your respective apartments, smiling like a pair of idiots.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing #it's been so long #I forgot how to tag these #Anonymous

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

* * *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully.

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

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giftofwonder · 4 years

Text

The Tomb (Dabi x f!Reader) - Part Six

A/N: As always, thank you all for the love and support. I appreciate all of your feedback and hope you like this part. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

WARNINGS: Cursing/Swearing

TAGLIST: @mikasackrmann @missalicebaskerville @liitlesushi @bonemarroww @winchescumberholland @mira-mirach @babayaga67 @iiashleysykes @orenjineki @badbitchfor2dmen @tsukki-uwwu @jamaisvusbitch

Christmas was two weeks away, so you spent much of your time teaching Dabi about your world, hoping that when he was around your family, nothing would seem amiss. You figured everything would be fine as long as he had a general understanding of most things, though you doubted they’d believe he was a reanimated corpse from ancient times, anyways.

He had handled himself just fine with your team at work, even befriending a few of them. However, the topics that were brought up mainly revolved around the tomb or daily life, and Dabi at least was a bit more familiar with the culture there than here.

Your story would be that he worked on your team and was rather new. He had a vast knowledge on the ancient times, and so you had met while calling him in to help deciphering artifacts and old text.

By this point, he had a decent enough inventory of topics he could speak on fairly well. It wasn’t great, but your parents only knew the basics of conversation in the language, so hopefully you could pass it off as communication errors and use the excuse of language barriers to translate for him.

In the meantime, though, you tried to teach him as quickly as you could. Television helped a lot, he spent a good amount of time flipping through channels and trying to absorb what he saw, asking questions as he went.

While he did that, you kept yourself busy buying him Christmas presents. You had explained the holiday to him, and he had seemed happy about it, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to reciprocate much. You had stashed the gifts for him in your spare room, excited for his first Christmas.

You let him decorate the house with you, and you were glad to see him having fun with it. You had been very entertained when you plopped a Santa hat on his head and he looked in the mirror, seeming almost offended by it. But moments later, he was running around the house with it on, continuing the tasks you had given him without a care in the world. He had even thrown out a “Ho ho ho!” when he brought you garland from the other room, but he had stomped away, his face flushed, when you had doubled over laughing at the unexpected catchphrase.

On Christmas Eve, you had dressed him up in warm clothes and dragged him from the house and into town. Dabi was adjusted to the cold from the desert nights, but he was still thankful for the warm layers you wrapped him in.

He hid the bottom of his face in a scarf, the rest of his damaged skin covered other than under his eyes. He felt better that way. When he was alone with you, he felt confident. You looked at him like he was perfect. Flawless. But the stares he got when he left the house made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t fear like he had become accustomed to, but rather pity and sadness. He hated it.

You led him to a horse drawn carriage they had set up in the town square. Since it was Christmas Eve, it wasn’t too busy out, and you were thankful to be able to get in quickly.

You climbed in first and Dabi made himself comfortable at your side, his arm wrapping behind your back to hold you close to him. He thought the small lights that decorated the trees were beautiful, making them look like they were full of stars, as was the pond that reflected them, that the carriage circled. He had never felt so relaxed. He spent his whole life fighting to survive, but the time you were in seemed like it held no real threats or danger.

The society he remembered had crumbled and the world had moved on. It satisfied him to know there had been change.

As the ride came to an end, Dabi got out and helped you down. You held hands as you pulled him over near a small cafe stand and grabbed you both some hot chocolate. You had learned that Dabi loved it, and aside from wine, it was a very requested drink with him.

You passed by small shops in the town square, Dabi was looking at the world around you while you window-shopped. You had finished all of your shopping, and the food to bring to your brothers for Christmas dinner was already made.

You felt Dabi still and his grip tightened on your hand. Your attention was dragged away from the shop windows and you saw his eyes wide in amazement.

You followed his gaze to see what had surprised him when you began cheering, excitement bursting though you.

“Look Dabi! It’s snowing!” You exclaimed while throwing your hands up, all but skipping out into the snow and giving a little twirl.

Dabi laughed at your childlike behavior, but followed you out from the covers hanging over the store fronts to feel the snow on his skin. He held his hands out, feeling the frozen droplets against his warm palms. You hummed as you spun around, your tongue peeking out to catch the snowflakes on it, and Dabi felt his chest tighten, something he noticed would happen now almost every time he looked at you. You stopped spinning and your eyes landed on him, bright with mirth, as you grinned.

Dabi wasn’t very sentimental, really. He had very few times in his life that he would consider carefree. However, these small moments with you, full of joy and warmth, he would forever keep in his heart.

You ran to him and hugged him, pressing against him as you babbled on about luck and a white christmas. While he wasn’t completely sure of what you meant, he could see that you were happy, so he figured it must be good.

You finished the walk home, getting inside and tugging off your coat to replace it with a soft knit blanket that you threw over both you and Dabi as you sat together on your sofa. The silence was comfortable, and you relaxed into his side just enjoying being with him, until you glanced up and saw the clock on your wall. You decided that you had waited long enough.

“Hey Dabi, you remember how I told you that you give gifts on Christmas?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Okay, good! I’ll be right back, you wait here!” You said giggling as you flung the blanket off of you and sprang up from the couch to run upstairs.

Dabi sat, still cozy underneath your blanket, waiting for you. A few moments later, he watched you come back down the stairs, pretty and colorful bags filling your hands. You sat them on the ground at his feet. His eyes were wide as he realized all of these were the ‘presents’ you had mentioned, and that they were probably all for him. His eyes flicked to your reddened face.

“Is it too much? It’s too much, isn’t it?” You groaned, your hands cupping your cheeks in embarrassment.

Dabi shook his head at you, a smile reaching his lips that he couldn’t stop.

“Is this...all for me?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded eagerly, pulling gifts from the bag to sit beside him and push into his hands.

You watched him as he held the gifts, twisting and turning them in his hold, admiring the paper and ribbons that decorated them. You had definitely went a bit overboard, but your family didn’t exchange presents, so you weren’t too concerned with the cost. Beyond that, it was Dabi’s first Christmas and you wanted him to have a good time. He didn’t have a lot of possessions, coming to your world with nothing, and he usually wasn’t overly accepting of gifts on a normal basis. You had tried many times to get him to pick things out for himself, but he would always shrug it off, saying he was fine. He only really asked for things he needed, and those requests were rare. But this was a holiday, an occasion where you were meant to give and receive. Surely, he would allow you to spoil him just this once.

He started opening the gifts, working his way through the pile, holding each item delicately as if it were porcelain.

At the end, you took and discarded all of the wrapping paper, taking it to your trash can in the kitchen. When you turned around, you found Dabi standing close behind you.

“Did I do okay? Do you like them?” You asked hopeful, but nervous.

Dabi pulled you to him and kissed you deeply. His hands held you firm against him, the action warming your heart and making your stomach flutter.

He pulled back slightly to whisper a “yes” and “thank you” against your lips before leaning in again.

You hoped the dinner with your family would go just as smoothly.

__________________________________________

The next morning, you woke up alone. You rubbed your eyes and groaned, pushing yourself out of bed and going to search for Dabi.

You found him at your kitchen table, hunched over, blocking whatever he was doing from your view.

“Good morning.” You mumbled, walking closer as his head whipped up to look at you over his shoulder.

“Stay there.” He demanded and faced forward again.

You were too groggy to argue, holding up your hands in defeat as you leaned against the door frame, watching his back as you yawned.

A few minutes later, he stepped to the side and turned to stare at your face. He looked apprehensive but excited, and you held a poker face as you stared at a torn up trash bag, some scraps of wrapping paper, and a discarded bow in a pile on the table.

You looked at him, but his expression hadn’t shifted, other than the small hint of worry that had appeared.

You looked back at the table and stepped forward, glancing down at the mess and furrowed you’re brow, the gears turning in your half asleep and foggy mind. Was this...a present?

You looked to him from the side and then reached for the gift, pulling the pile apart. You found one of your picture frames face down on the table, but when you picked it up and turned it towards you, you saw he had replaced it with a photo that you two had taken shortly before leaving the excavation sight.

It was a picture of you sitting on the steps of the tomb. You were laughing, with Dabi behind you, his arms around your waist and his chin plopped on top of your head, shooting a goofy grin at the camera.

Your gaze softened at it and your thumb stroked the glass over his face as you smiled gently. Dabi sighed in relief at your reaction, the tension leaving his shoulders as he relaxed, glad that you were happy with it.

He didn’t go into town without you. Between too many unfamiliar things and the language barrier, it would be too hard for him he figured, but after you had given him so much last night, he wanted to give you something in return.

One of the diggers you worked with had developed the photo and given it to him on the day of your departure, and he had held onto it, waiting for a good time to give it to you.

You turned to him, pulling him into a hug as your head rested against his chest, holding him tight in your embrace. You leaned up to kiss his nose, and then brushed your lips across his cheek.

“Thank you, I love it.” You whispered in his ear, and he felt his heart speed up as blood rushed to his cheeks. He closed his eyes, pressing himself tighter against you. His nose burrowed in the crook of your neck, and he kissed your skin softly.

__________________________________________

Soon you were both getting ready, and then loading your car to head to the family dinner.

Dabi noted how sour your mood had become, the way your shoulders were tense as you drove, knuckles white gripping the steering wheel.

“You don’t want to go.” Dabi commented. It didn’t sound like a question, but you answered anyways.

“No. Well, it’s not that. It’s just...weird, I guess. I’m excited to see them, but at the same time, it’s always like I’m an outsider. Which, I get it. I’m gone a lot. But it always just feels awkward. Plus, everyone is coming this year, so I just know something is going to happen. When everyone is under one roof, there’s bound to be at least one argument. Hopefully, this year they get off my back about marriage at least.” You finished with a laugh. Dabi nodded.

“Youll be able to tell them that soon you’ll be my wife.” Dabi agreed, his tone very matter-of-fact, but his words still made you flush.

“Yeah, I can tell them that.” You said softly, your expression tender.

__________________________________________

Dabi was glad when the car finally came to a stop. Driving made him nauseous, and he hated that it was so frequent here in this time.

You grabbed the food from the backseat, and made your way up the street to your brothers house, Dabi following behind. He stood off to the side, nervous hands pulling at his sweater as you knocked on the door. You heard muffled yelling and a second later, your brother answered, throwing open the door to step out and pull you into a hug.

“Well, look who finally decided to come for a visit. About time you got here. Everyone’s inside. Oh, and I brought my friend too, the one from college who always thought you were cute.” He laughed as he pulled back, only then noticing Dabi standing off to your side.

“Oh, uh...who’s this?”

“Dabi, my fiancé.” You smiled, your head tilting to the side as you beamed and your brother choked.

“Your WHAT?” He gawked.

“You heard me, didnt mom tell you I was bringing someone?” You laughed, lifting a brow skeptically.

“No...but I mean...he’s so....really? HIM?” He asked, looking Dabi up and down, his face grimacing.

“Yes, him.” You sneered back, stepping beside Dabi, bracing the food in one hand so the other could reach out and grab his, intertwining your fingers together.

Your brother looked between the two of you before he sighed and rubbed his face. He offered a greeting to Dabi, and you informed your brother about the language barrier. He groaned out a hello so Dabi could understand, and then quickly turned to go inside.

Dabi’s nerves were shot. He couldn’t understand the verbal interaction that had just taken place, but he already knew how it went. The body language and facial expressions were enough to tell him exactly what your brother thought of him, and he anticipated he’d get the same reaction from the rest of your family.

He was torn between wanting to leave before it got worse, and the desire to march you inside and bend you over the table, giving your family a show while rubbing it in their faces that he was who you wanted, just to spite them.

He was torn from his dilemma as you squeezed his hand, your finger rubbing his knuckles in both an apology and an attempt at comfort, as you led him inside. He clenched his jaw, but allowed himself to be pulled along behind you.

The rest of your family greeted you, running up to get hugs and kisses, telling you how much they had missed you and how beautiful you looked. One by one, you saw their expressions falter as they noticed Dabi behind you, all offering similar reactions to the one your brother had given. They were just so rude. So unapologetically rude. You felt the anger stirring in you, but tried to calm it, hoping it was just from shock, but that the rest of the evening would get better.

After the awkward greeting with your family, Dabi had found a seat by himself, and your brothers cat had immediately climbed into his lap. He said he’d be fine while you dropped the food off in the other room, shooing you away while his gaze wandered down to the cat, a lazy grin on his face. You figured it would be okay, as your family seemed content to avoid him, so you gave a weak smile and nod, telling him you’d be right back, before heading out of the room. You made your way to the kitchen, setting the tray of food on the counter. You sighed, trying to force the negativity from you as you took a moment to just breathe. A hand rubbed your back and your head quickly turned, seeing your brothers friend behind you.

“Don’t beat yourself up, babe. It can only get better from here, right?” He offered, his tone nonchalant.

“Hello to you to, Keigo.” You sighed, stepping away from him, trying to put some distance between the two of you.

You folded your arms across your chest as you stared at him, leaning your hip into the counter. You didn’t have anything against him, in fact, he was probably the only friend of your brothers that you had ever gotten along with. But, he was a shameless flirt, and as charming as he could be, you just weren’t in the mood to deal with it right now.

“Your brother didn’t mention you were bringing a date. I’m not going to lie, I’m a little crushed.” He pouted, putting his hand over his heart.

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter and heading for the door.

“Well, guess that’s how it goes. You win some and you lose some, right?” You shrugged. Just as you reached the door, about to push it open, he called out.

“Hey, if you change your mind or your...whatever he is, doesn’t work out,” he started, sauntering up behind you until he was pressed against your back, “just know I’m here.” He finished, his hot breath sweeping across your neck.

“Don’t hold your breath, bird brain.” You scoffed, pushing open the door.

Keigo chuckled behind you, following you out as he muttered the word “feisty”. You held back the urge to roll your eyes again as you made your way over to Dabi.

He looked up and smiled as you approached.

“At least someone here likes me,” he commented as his hand stroked the cat sleeping peacefully in his lap.

__________________________________________

Dinner was tense. Your father and his wife stayed silent for the most part, making offhanded comments to themselves, casting quick glances between you and Dabi.

Your brother and Keigo tried to make small talk with the family, pretty much ignoring Dabi entirely.

Your mother just gawked the whole time at him, flinching every time their eyes met.

Your step father and half-siblings were really the only saving grace.

Your stepfather tried to talk with Dabi using the bits of the language he knew, and what he couldn’t say, he asked you about. How you had met, work, your plans. Dabi was thankful for him. Your half-siblings lacked boundaries, asking Dabi a lot of things he couldn’t understand, but they chatted away to him without a care in the world. When they noticed his confused face, they’d pull imagines up on their phones or try to gesture things to him. He was just as lost, but he’d smile and nod just to get them to continue, welcoming the distraction.

Eventually, Dabi asked to go to the bathroom and you pointed him in the direction. You offered to go with him, but he shook his head, telling you he would be right back.

The second he was gone, everyone’s eyes were on you.

“What?” You asked, your mouth full of mashed potatoes.

“Look, we all know you’ve been away from home, you’re single and lonely, I’m sure. And I know I’ve been pressuring you for a while to be with someone, but, you know, it doesn’t have to be just anyone.” Your mother said dryly, taking a sip of wine.

“Me being with him has nothing to do with you.” You frowned, not liking where this was going.

“Come on, sis. Keigo’s got money, he’s got looks and charm. Rumor has it that he’s great in bed, too.” You brother threw out with a wink.

“You date him them.” You shot back with a glare.

“He came all this way to see you, and you’re not even gonna spare him a glance?” Your brother chided, with Keigo awkwardly waving to you from beside him, a lopsided smile gracing his face.

“Why would I? I’m with Dabi. He makes me happy, and he’s a good guy. I get that you guys are shallow, but he’s who I want.” You sneered, anger boiling inside that you were struggling to hold back once more.

“Oh come on. You want HIM? I can hardly look at him, I don’t know how you could stand waking up every morning to that.” Your fathers wife chimed in.

“I don’t really care what you can and can’t stand looking at, you frigid bitch.” You snapped, seeing red.

Your father raised from his seat.

“You will not speak to your mother that way, and you will stop this foolishness. You are not going to continue playing around with that boy. Send him back to wherever he came from, because it’s over.” Your father spoke sternly.

“First of all, that lady isn’t my mother. I hardly even know her. Second, Dabi isn’t going anywhere.” You said, rising from your seat as well.

“You will not be with him. I will not allow it. I forbid it!” Your father yelled, his face red as the veins stood out on his forehead and neck.

“Like hell you do! I’m going to marry him and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop me!” You yelled back.

“You’re not marrying that boy and that’s final!” He growled back.

“I can and I will! I’ll be damned if any of you are going to tell me how to live my life!” Your fist smashed down onto the table, shattering your glass beneath it as you shouted.

“If you don’t stop this right now, consider yourself disowned!” Your father spit out, his heated gaze on your face. The rest of your family was quiet, shooting glances between the two of you.

“Well that’s fine by me! If you really cared about me, you’d want me to be happy.”

“I do want you to be happy. We all do. That’s why I won’t allow you to throw your life away on that charity case.” You father said, rubbing his temples.

“You don’t even know him! You hardly even know me!” You called back exasperated, unsure if you wanted to laugh or cry. You were in hysterics, waving your bleeding hand as you spoke. You mom stood, drawing your attention away from your father as she gave her opinion as well.

“Honey, I love you and I want you to be happy. You’re my baby and I want what’s best for you, but that man...Dabi...he’s just so...so damaged. I just can’t understand why you are so dead set on being with him.” She spoke softly, but her tone sounded like she was scolding you and you hit your breaking point. You screamed.

“Because I love him!”

You had failed to notice that Dabi had returned, paused in the doorway listening. On your last sentence, you had unknowingly yelled in your second language, providing Dabi with the only words exchanged that he could understand.

He didn’t know what was said before, but he could guess. He decided then that he hated your family. Partly, because they had judged him so harshly, but also because he’d never seen you so worked up. So angry.

You turned away from them and your eyes landed on Dabi. You marched from the table, grabbing his hand as you led him outside. He couldn’t lie, he felt a twisted sense of pride. You’d fought for him, challenged your family for him. You had bled for him. It was the first time you had said you loved him.

You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He would burn the world to ash if you asked him to. You were his, and he was yours. In his life, he had never known love, but he knew it now. It was you.

__________________________________________

The drive home was silent. You had shifted from anger to something else. Disappointment? Maybe. Sadness? A bit.

You were hurt. Stunned by the cruel reactions from your family. You imaged some friction, sure. But not like that. This was something else entirely.

What was supposed to be a happy day had turned sour, and you were bitter.

When you pulled into your driveway, you shut off the car and just leaned back and sighed, closing your eyes. You felt warmth on your thigh, and cracked open an eye to see Dabi resting his hand there for comfort, while he blankly stared out the window at the snow covered ground.

“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice low. The silence had given him enough time to think on it. His pride fading when he realized your relationship with your family, that was already strained, was now probably permanently damaged because of him.

“No, don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Dabi. You didn’t deserve any of that.” You said, voice cracking as you rested your hand atop his.

He looked at you and saw the tears in your eyes, along with the few that escaped down your cheeks. He wondered how many more you would shed for him. Because of him.

You got out of the car and made your way inside. He followed you to the bathroom, and you climbed into the bath together, where Dabi just held you for a while. He had no real experience comforting someone, but he figured if he was going to try for anyone, it was you.

When you got out, you both put on pajamas and headed down to the living room to watch a movie.

When it ended, you untangled yourself from him and the blanket was quickly thrown off of you as you pushed yourself up from the couch to stand, a faint “oh, i almost forgot” leaving you as you scurried off.

You returned a moment later holding a small rectangular box, much like the ones he had found in your room that held your jewelry. You held it out to him, a small smile painted on your face. He took it carefully and you plopped down beside him on the couch again.

You leaned into his shoulder as his hands roamed over the box.

“It’s another Christmas gift.” You said softly. He paused.

“No, you’ve already given me enough.” He said holding the box out to you stubbornly.

You gently pushed it back towards him.

“Open it.” You said.

He sighed, pulling off the lid to stare at the contents of the box with confusion.

“I don’t know what this is.” He said, picking it up and inspecting it.

“I’m pregnant.” You whispered, hiding your face in his shoulder. His whole body stiffened, his eyes glued to the white stick he held in his hand.

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Twenty

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome to the end of our tale, everyone! Thank you so much for reading and enjoying over the years. I love you so much and appreciate you more than words can say. Here's to 2021, my friends! Ad Victoriam, and stay safe! Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @wrestlingfae, @toxiicpop, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto, @nelba, @mechanicalism, @commandershepardshtole, @valkyriejack and @kovu-the-mythical-being. Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

Part Seventeen: Preparations

Part Eighteen: Divide And Conquer

Part Nineteen: Lucky

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains holiday celebrations, brief emotional distress and unprotected sex. Stay safe!]

Time seemed to pass both too fast and not fast enough.

Synths were accommodated, reprogrammed at their wishes or helped to adjust to their new lives. Doctor Amari and the rest of the Railroad had no shortage of work, and Desdemona eventually tapped MacCready and Cait to oversee their caravan logistics back to the Capital Wasteland.

"And the people of the Commonwealth slept soundly, for the greatest monster was gone." Nick had remarked, touching the brim of his fedora in a half-salute. The old detective quickly appointed himself as head of first impressions in Diamond City, making certain that no trouble befell any wayward synth that accidentally wandered in. There was still a lot of work to be done to repair the Broken Mask incident, after all.

New settlements sprang up overnight and while there may not have been total harmony, there was the sensation of the whole Commonwealth heaving a sigh of relief. Recruits flocked to the Minutemen and Brotherhood in droves as Piper's Publick Occurrences spread the word of their successful campaign against the Institute.

Commonwealth boogeyman decimated by combination effort: Brotherhood Of Steel and Minutemen join forces to save Boston from bodysnatchers!

Deacon had effortlessly deflected Piper every time she asked for an interview, the mysterious man more than content to keep the Railroad shadowy. The less everyone knew, the less they could tell, and that suited him just fine. "You did real good, Icebox. Helped a lot of people."

Elder Brandis sought approval to establish a permanent outpost at the Boston airport ruins, the former paladin keen to send the Prydwen back to the Capital Wasteland. "Oh the Prydwen's a fine ship, but put me in the field any day!" The airship, once a proud symbol of the Maxson reign, now served little purpose aside from blocking the sun on occasion. Scribes laughed and played in the massive shadow, kicking up dust until the circle where the litany trial had taken place was nothing but a memory.

X6-88 had floundered for several weeks, the courser falling into a depressive slump that not even Curie could rouse him from. Oddly enough, it was Preston who ended up being able to haul him out of the darkness, the lieutenant making a point to visit the courser to drag him from his room for target practice and other low-effort patrol duties. "Sometimes all folks need is a hand, General."

The courser went on to reluctantly take the role of defective defector, working as a consultant to the Minutemen to help ward off any future attacks by desperate coursers or Institute scientists. Preston found his input invaluable, and the duo could often be found in the lieutenant's quarters poring over threadbare maps and trading tactical information. Preston also seemed to have a calming effect on the synth hunter, helping to blunt some of the cold steel edge that X6 had honed his entire life. Add on to that the constant caring presence of Curie, and they made a strange but surprisingly effective trio.

With the new supply line firmly established between the verdant utopia of Starlight Drive-In and Oberland Station, the strain of the prior lean months finally eased a bit. Faces grew less pinched even with the increased burden of the synths, and many settlers began to tentatively plan for a small celebration in the beginning of the winter.

"'The Holidays' is what they been callin' it, real simple and succinct. Some freaky hodgepodge of everyone's traditions. I guess a lot of folks on that fancy director's board also celebrated around this time of year. Not that the synths would know, naturally." Hancock had muttered, his expression sour. "Poor bastards always workin', and they ain't got fuckall to show for it. Seems like a shit deal."

Elder Brandis granted Danse an extended leave of absence after the toppling of the Institute without the paladin even requesting it, the large man dumbfounded for a moment upon receiving the news.

"If you're up for it, I could use a hand back at Sanctuary." Vega had grinned up at him, her eyes squinting a little under the force of her smile. "A lot of prep work goes into a holiday, after all."

...

Danse had taken it upon himself to retreat from Shaun's previous bedroom when he accompanied Vega and her son back to Sanctuary. He debated heavily on returning to the airport; after all, there was no real reason for him to stay in Sanctuary Hills, at least none that he dared to dwell upon. The few small projects that Vega had to manage were easily accomplished and he was left a bit lost in the wake of the excess of his leave.

Vega, however, had begun framing in what was once the carpark for her house. Sturges helped of course, and once Danse caught on he was touched by the gesture.

"I don't want you to feel like there isn't room for you just because Shaun is back." Elizabeth had said, lugging a chunk of scrap metal from the wreckage of her car.

The paladin had to take a moment, claiming sawdust in his eye as the culprit.

Now Danse lived in the area she had partitioned off for him, uncertain if he still believed he was intruding. Those thoughts were troubling, because if he could get comfortable…

What if Vega eventually decided that Shaun needed a father and what if...what if she chose a real man? Really real, not a sham like Danse was. And if she did, what man would permit Danse to stay? What real man would permit a synth that was currently entangled by these...human emotions to remain on their property, even if Danse proved he wasn't a threat?

What man would believe him if he claimed to have no interest in Vega? Hell, Danse didn't even believe himself.

But he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted to tell Elizabeth...well, there were a lot of things he wanted to tell her.

His silence was more of a burden each day, and Danse knew he must seem sullen. It gnawed at him; it felt like lying every time he choked the words back down because it wasn't the right time or he just didn't know what to say, and he didn't trust himself not to say something foolish.

He decided he would wait until after the holiday gathering. Whatever the verdict was, it shouldn't take away from the joy she was clearly feeling over the festivities. So Danse threw himself into helping Sturges, Mama Murphy and the Longs around Sanctuary.

Secretly making a toy truck for Shaun had been a painstaking process fraught with peril. Mainly because Danse was somewhat indelicate and carving tiny wheels had never been his area of expertise. Oh certainly, he could build a survival camp with nothing but a combat knife and time, but a toy...

The paladin had spent countless hours creating prototypes in his cobbled-together room as he pondered the path he should take, sometimes working into the wan light of the morning. He eventually showed the truck to Jun, immensely fearful that Shaun might not enjoy the toy. Danse couldn't recall his own interests when he had been Shaun's age, and thus fell back on the other man's expertise.

"It looks good! Sand the wheels a little more, maybe give it a coat or two of paint." Jun praised the pensive paladin, turning the vehicle over in his hands to examine it. "Kyle loved these kinds of things y'know, trucks and trains and little toy boats." His gaze grew distant for a moment, the rough plaything stilling in his grasp. "Marcy thinks she's pregnant." He said abruptly.

"Pregnant?" Danse repeated without meaning to, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

Jun nodded jerkily. "It's been three months now. She's scared, Mr. Danse, real scared. Thinks something bad will happen."

"What can we do?" The paladin asked sharply.

Jun gawked up at him, seeming confused. "We?"

"I am unfamiliar with this process. What needs to be done?"

"I...I don't follow, Mr. Danse."

"To simplify the duration! What precautions can I-"

"Whoa, hang on." Jun protested. "We aren't sure if the general will even let us stay here with an extra mouth to feed. I've been trying to figure out how to bring up the subject." He admitted.

"You haven't even told General Vega yet?!" Danse squawked.

"W-Well, no! I figured maybe we would...we'd see how the winter went and play it by ear." Jun mumbled, seeming defensive.

Danse seized the other man's arm, heedless of his protests as he hauled him across the front lawn to Vega's abode. Today was the day that Vega had planned to sort through decorations; there were many left over from the fall holiday the Commonwealth had been preparing to celebrate before...well, time had stopped for most when the bombs fell, it was understandable that faded pumpkins and skeletons would still grace crumbling walls with their orangey-cream presence.

Vega looked up from the veritable pile of brittle, salvaged decor in confusion when Danse barged into their...her home, the paladin immediately halting and offering a sharp salute. "Danse! I...uh, what's wrong?"

"Mr. Long has something he needs to discuss with you immediately." Danse informed her, tugging the other man forward.

"I-I...er, General, you…" Jun struggled to speak, twiddling his fingers wildly. "M-Marcy--"

"What's wrong, Jun? Is she okay?" Vega asked, getting to her feet and shooting Danse a worried look. "Did something happen?"

"B-Baby." Jun squeaked. "Pregnant."Backhand went still, her freckles stark against the fresh pallor of her face. "I'm sorry, General, I know we haven't discussed it beforehand a-and I know food's been better as of late...I-I guess she got enough nutrients and got healthy enough for...er, well, you know." Mr. Long looked like he wanted to disappear into the ground. "We should have spoke to you sooner; I don't know if she can leave with the weather being--"

"Wh-Where are you going? Why leave, what?" Vega stammered, "Jun, you can't travel now, if something goes wrong-!"

"We weren't sure if you'd let us stay!" The thin man interrupted her frantically. "This is your base, after all, and you didn't sign on for an extra person to worry about."

Vega inhaled deeply. "Danse, could you give me a minute with Mr. Long?" She requested, her voice suspiciously even.

Danse obeyed, closing the front door gently and meandering a pointed distance down the main thoroughfare so as not to eavesdrop. He had a relatively good idea of how the conversation would go, despite Jun's misgivings. So he wandered down to the huge tree at the end of the cul-de-sac, fiddling with the truck in his pocket absently as he stared upwards at the barren branches.

"Y'know kid," Mama Murphy piped up from her customary chair on her porch and the paladin turned to face her, giving the elderly woman his full attention. "When I had the Sight, I saw this place. Sanctuary." She nodded in the direction of the river, then gestured upwards. "The bridge, and this tree. Massive and old, worn out from all those years." She cocked her head, giving Danse an appraising look. "The tree though, it was...covered in lights. Like what you see in the pre-war mags. The Holidays, shinin' like a beacon of hope at the end of the tunnel."

Danse hummed, the vaguest beginnings of an idea taking root in his mind. He couldn't bring Vega's old life back, but maybe...maybe he could bring something from it back to her. Like what you see in the pre-war mags.

"I think you're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, kid." Mama Murphy's smile was knowing, the old woman reaching over to pet Dogmeat. The dog seemed to materialize out of thin air sometimes! "Now get to it."

...

Backhand was already scurrying around the kitchen when Danse rose on the morning of the Holiday celebration, the paladin pausing only momentarily to yawn in the doorway before sleepily offering his assistance. "Is there something I can help with, Vega?"

"Uh, Sturges, he said something about you and stuff from Goodneighbor, I think?" Elizabeth replied, obviously preoccupied with whatever she had in the semi-functional oven. Danse nodded, trudging across the kitchen to tug on his boots by the door.

Shaun bounded out of the bathroom, his face still damp from his morning wash. "Oh, can I help too? Please Mom, let me help Mister Danse and Mister Sturges!" He begged.

"You'd better stay right where Danse and Sturges can see you." Backhand instructed him sternly, one oven-mitted hand gesturing to indicate the gravity of the situation. "Otherwise you're coming straight back inside. Go put on your warm coat."

Shaun cheered in delight, racing back to his room.

"It's okay that he's with you two, right? I know he's not your responsibility." Backhand continued in an undertone to the paladin.

Danse's throat tightened and it took him a moment to respond, "I don't mind at all. He's a very well-behaved child."

"Let me know if he's an issue and I'll bring him back inside. I just need to get this done and the oven is being all-"

Danse stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders, deliberately schooling his expression into something more stern. "General, you're doing a fine job. Stop worrying."

"Am I? Shit, I really hope so." Elizabeth mumbled, tipping her forehead until it rested against his chest. Danse prayed she couldn't hear his heart, hammering merely from her proximity. God, his body was nothing but an embarrassment waiting to happen. "I've never really done this crap. Not sure if I'm cut out for it."

The momentary respite was broken when Shaun reappeared in his oversized flannel and oilcloth jacket, the child bolting past the two adults to put on his boots. Danse reluctantly released Backhand, noting how flushed her face was but not really daring to dwell on it. "I'll...I'll watch him." The paladin said, his voice a bit stilted. "I promise."

"Thank you." Backhand mumbled, wiping her eyes and then returning to coddle…whatever it was in the oven.

"Ready, Shaun?" Danse asked the boy, who nodded rapidly and extended a hand.

The snow outside was still fresh from the night before and Danse took a moment to appreciate the view of the Commonwealth covered in a thin layer of white. Off in the distance, the towering crimson insignia of the Red Rocket gasoline station stood stark against the backdrop of the gray sky. Even further down the road slumbered the empty shell of Concord, the tallest of the town's dilapidated buildings only just visible from the paladin's position.

Shaun tugged at his hand, pulling his attention back to the present. "Mister Danse, Mister Sturges is waiting for us!" The child announced, waving up at the engineer who was currently settled into a crook of the brittle branches that graced the tree on the cul-de-sac island. "Hi Mister Sturges!"

"Howdy fellas! Come to give me a helpin' hand?" Sturges called, grinning down at the two of them.

"What assistance can we offer?" Danse queried, wary that the other man might suggest Shaun climb up to him. His fears were quickly allayed when Sturges instead asked Shaun and Danse to begin untangling the long strands of old lights.

Hancock and his ilk had arrived from Goodneighbor, bearing the gifts of dubious treats and many, many mangled strings of lights. Goodneighbor had always been drenched in neon, after all, so Danse had assumed the ghoul mayor would be the best person to call upon for aid. It would appear that Hancock had delivered in spectacular fashion.

"With your help, we'll have this place lookin' pretty as a picture in no time!"

…

Maybe she had bitten off slightly more than she could chew, trying to cook a traditional dinner. Backhand sighed, glumly poking at the cold poultry with a wooden spoon. Her cooking skills had never been much to write home about in the first place, and this only served to solidify that fact.

"Oh Mum, I'm so sorry. The old oven just isn't how it used to be." Codsworth commented, his mechanical voice tinged with melancholy.

"It's not a big deal, Codsworth. I hate to waste the food, that's all." Backhand muttered, assuring herself that she wasn't fighting back frustrated tears, her eyes were just tired. "Damn thing didn't even get to the warm phase."

"Mum, if I might suggest…?" The robot started hesitantly, carrying on when she nodded. "Perhaps it can be salvaged. After all, we make bread in that same pan by tucking it beneath the hot coals out front. What do you say, shall we give it a go?"

"Got nothing to lose, right?"

"It will be just fine, Mum! You're an adaptive sort." Codsworth remarked, drifting out the front door to stoke the usual cooking fire to life once more. "Indeed, just fine!" He called.

Vega shook her head ruefully. "Oh I'm sure." The woman grumbled. "Can't cook and comes with baggage. What a catch ol' Vega is." At least the bread had come out well, in spite of the brisk weather. She could thank whoever for that small favor.

Once Codsworth had coaxed the embers to life in the fire pit, Elizabeth bundled up and brought the still-cold cast-iron pot outside. Maybe it had been wishful thinking to believe that the oven portion of her stove would still work. Or even heat at all. It had been promising earlier in the week, but this might be a blessing in disguise. If the whole house had gone up due to a cooking malfunction...well, the holidays wouldn't be too happy then, would they?

"Please cook." She begged under her breath, troweling hot coals onto the battered dutch oven lid. "I need this, y'know? Just a little victory, that's all I'm asking for here."

"Shall I get started on the tatoes, Miss Vega?"

Elizabeth nodded, only half-listening to Codsworth. She knew she would have a good forty five minutes to an hour to wait, and it wasn't as if it was colder outside than it was inside. The joys of semi-functional heating!

Vega shook her head at herself after a second, since when did she dwell on everything that Sanctuary wasn't? At the end of the day, it was her home. She wouldn't trade it for the world, and she knew she had much more than most people.

At that thought, her gaze wandered to where Danse and Shaun were. The larger man had Shaun on his shoulders while he patiently unwound a massive bundle of flickering string lights. Shaun, for his part, was passing the untangled lights up to Sturges. The engineer slid down the ladder so he could reach the child, looping the lights over his arm before climbing back up and painstakingly placing them in the gnarled grasp of the tree's limbs.

The manufactured cheer that the lights had given off pre-war was still somewhat there, though the radiant colors were washed out to pastel and the warm whites had gone dingy gray. Instead of it being a melancholy reminder that her life had changed irreparably, Backhand was overcome with gratitude. For her son's safe return, regardless of his synthetic makeup, and for the man who was currently carrying Shaun on his shoulders. For her home, for her family.

A family.

Perhaps she was getting a little ahead of herself. After all, Danse was still adjusting to life in ordinary time. It would be selfish of her to voice her feelings to him while he was coming to terms with everything that had happened. For better or for worse, their lives were different now.

It ought to be enough that he was in her life at all. She should be content. His presence alone was a miracle; for all intents and purposes he should be dead. Yet there he was, mere feet away, helping to brighten up the holiday celebration.

Tonight there would be a multitude of visitors. God only knew how many would arrive from settlements near and far, to say nothing of Goodneighbor, Diamond City, the Prydwen and the Castle! It would be an incredibly busy evening for certain. Hancock had arrived early with a posse of ragtag drifters from Goodneighbor, all of them offering gifts of food or scavenged ornaments to decorate. Hence the massive mound of lights that was currently being diligently sorted through.

The aforementioned ghoul appeared to have delegated the task of quality checking the lights, as his form currently leaned against the faded blue siding of her house. With cigarette smoke wafting from his mouth and nasal cavity in equal amounts, he seemed content to just watch the chaos unfold.

"Aren't you a little chilly?" Backhand queried, raising an eyebrow. The mayor was still clad in his usual garb of...for lack of a better term, repurposed period dress. Granted it wasn't seasonably cold out, at least not like how she remembered it being before the bombs dropped.

"Nah, we ghouls run pretty warm. Ham's like a portable space heater." Hancock answered, giving her a lazy grin. "Cute of you to worry, though. I must be growin' on ya'."

"Whoa there, let's not get too crazy."

"Whatcha' think, General?" Sturges shouted from his perch, waving to get her attention.

Danse turned in place, appearing to realize that she was watching as his hands flew up and grabbed Shaun's legs, stabilizing the small boy on his shoulders.

Backhand couldn't keep from smiling when she called back, "it looks wonderful! Keep up the great work!"

"That ain't the only thing that looks wonderful, right Sunshine?" Hancock snickered, rolling his eyes at the now-sputtering woman. "You better give the Brave Little Toaster the ride of his life, that's all I gotta' say."

"Hancock!" Vega hissed, making a half-hearted swipe at the mayor. "You fuckin'--"

"Ah ah, little pitchers!" Hancock scolded, tilting his head to the side to draw Vega's attention to the rapidly-approaching form of Duncan, MacCready's son. "Gotta' watch that mouth of yours, Sunshine."

"This ain't over, ya' raisin-lookin' bastard." Backhand snarled under her breath, pasting on a friendly smile for Duncan while Hancock wheezed with laughter. "Hey bud, how's things?" She greeted the child, who grimaced.

"Dad's kissin' Miss Cait again. S'gross." The little boy announced, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"That does sound pretty gross." Hancock piped up before Backhand could reply. "But you like seein' your old man happy, right? The lady makes him happy. Simple as that."

"Yeah, I guess. Can I play with Shaun?" Duncan asked Vega, eyes wide as he seemed to take in the tree covered with lights.

"Go ahead, kiddo! Just be careful and stay away from Sturges' ladder." Elizabeth warned, grinning when the little boy took off with a whoop.

Cait and MacCready strode up after a moment, both of them red-faced. MacCready bent double, his hands on his knees. "I'm not built for these bullsh--awful conditions." He panted. "I don't know how the kid does it. He was nearly dead a few months ago and now he's out here kicking the snow in the a--er, butt."

Backhand glanced around, and then snorted. "You call this snow? It's a dusting. Back before-"

"Ah ah, easy now Mumsicle, we ain't got time for yer trip down memory lane." Cait teased. "Work to be done, aye? C'mon then, General, shape up. What you doin' on the ground anyway, all crouched like a mother hen broodin'?"

"I'm cooking." Vega replied tersely.

"Oh aye? Looks like yer shirkin' t' me, love. Codsy can manage that mess, c'mon." Cait seized her elbow, levering her up out of the snowy grass. "Now, what needs doin'?"

...

The day was a whirlwind of arrivals, preparations and well wishers. Elder Brandis even stopped by briefly, taking precious time away from his all-consuming duties to distribute some useful supplies and catch up on the gossip.

The Diamond City trio graced Sanctuary with their presence shortly before noon, Nat scurrying off to play with Duncan and Shaun while Piper made a beeline for Hancock's merry band. Nick was more keen to meander around the outskirts of the groups forming, amber eyes taking in his surroundings.

Preston appeared midafternoon with X6, Curie and the entire O'Brian clan in tow, later than expected but apparently they had stopped to help out a settlement along the way.

The cul-de-sac soon rang with the laughter of the rambunctious children; even little Siusan was permitted to briefly toddle about in the trampled snow under the watchful gaze of Eamon. The weather was chilly but the sun had broken through the clouds throughout the day, sending momentary waves of brilliance across the Commonwealth.

Every table and chair that could be salvaged had been assembled on the old foundation at the end of the cul-de-sac, and it was there that the adults began to gather as the sun set. Metal drums loaded with wood were lit, providing heat and illumination to the many guests of the Commonwealth's first official potluck dinner.

"Or rather," Piper amended, clearing her throat with a touch of self-importance as she tapped her notepad, "the first documented official potluck dinner."

The large tree twinkled and shone in the fast-approaching darkness, the occasional flicker or broken bulb doing little to diminish the cheer it provided. The food was distributed, Backhand's roast chicken disappearing without a hitch. The young woman couldn't help doing a mental dance of victory, delighted that Codsworth's quick thinking had saved that particular endeavor.

Vega found a place to sit somewhere in the middle of one of the many long tables, red from the praise of her companions and the persistent chill in the air. She got even redder when Preston loudly proclaimed a toast, to the General!, her lieutenant tipping his bottle and everyone else following suit.

"I remember when I first met the general, she was half-dead on her feet." Preston began the story, his smile fond. "Sturges couldn't even believe our luck. Hell, none of us could. When freedom called, our general answered!"

Backhand, who had lived the story and knew all the ins and outs, found her attention wandering to Danse while Preston regaled the crowd with his tale. The paladin seemed to be listening closely, his meal forgotten. Deacon even began to thieve bits of chicken and tato out from beneath his nose, the Railroad agent shooting Vega a sly wink over his sunglasses.

Backhand shook her head at the other man's antics, then focused her attention on Preston. "...'Lurk queen, a huge, mean seabug, taken out by landmines! The Castle was ours once again, and we all had General Vega to thank for it." The lieutenant stated firmly. "The one who can get things done in the Commonwealth, the one who gave folks hope when it was in mighty short supply. We uh, we owe you a lot, ma'am." He raised his bottle once more. "To General Vega, leader of the Minutemen!"

"To Elizabeth!" Hancock yelled, echoed by half the damn populace as Vega tried to wave it off, the young woman laughing awkwardly. "To our Sunshine, the hero of the Commonwealth!"

"Synth savior, a regular knight in shining armor." Deacon teased.

"Well done, General Vega." Danse said warmly, "I can't know for certain whether the Brotherhood itself would be proud, but I certainly am." His praise for whatever reason made Vega's blush feel like it would scorch her skin.

Oh she knew damn well why, she was just being willfully oblivious at this point.

"Speech! Speech! Is that not zee norm for zis sort of occasion?" Curie called, the diminutive synth currently sharing X6-88's coat as well as his plate of food. X6 didn't seem to have any reservations about the matter, his arm slung around her shoulders without a care in the world.

Much to Vega's chagrin, the majority appeared to be in favor of such a vocal endeavor. She attempted to laugh off the suggestion to no avail, and finally got to her feet. "Alright, alright, settle down. I'll say a few words if it'll get you all off my damn back." She grumbled, her body thoroughly warm now with a combination of embarrassment and gratitude. "I uh…"

Vega trailed off as she looked out over the ragtag gang of expectant faces staring back at her. So many friends and neighbors, finally getting the chance to breathe. The chance to celebrate the fruits of their labor...it was sobering.

"I can't thank you all enough for...well, for everything that you've done. You all sacrificed so much for this peace, stuff I could never imagine doing even before the bombs dropped." She cleared her throat. "My mentor, Sergeant Shaun Cathan, was a great man, and he often had some very succinct or choice words which I'm not about to repeat in polite company."

"Aw c'mon-!" Zeke began to protest loudly, his voice fading as he noticed the small gaggle of children still gawking at his power armor.

Backhand continued, her jaw set firmly, "but one thing I can say that he told me is this: a leader who permits their pride to impede their decisions is doomed to failure. Pride built the Institute, and that same pride rotted it to the core. Pride built the Brotherhood of Steel, the Minutemen, and we've seen the both of them nearly toppled." Vega clenched her fist. "Pride brought nuclear fire down on Boston, but people hauled themselves outta' the ashes of that fire. Good people, tough people. Folks I knew. Folks I cared for, even if some of 'em did spend a little too much time on the Cape. If pride can do so much effin' harm, I expect simple compassion and decency to do just as much good. Hell, more than that. Humanity's built itself back up after the cluster that was armageddon, and we ain't through yet."

She tipped the jar she had been drinking out of towards the crowd, sternly studying the collection of scavengers, families both new and familiar.

...

"So here's to you, my friends. To all that you've done, and to all that you will do."

Vega's salute was rigid, pre-war. Like her helmet on the table beside her, scraped and covered in faded sigils. The mixture of candlelight and the lights on the tree reflected off the worn lenses of her glasses, shielding her eyes from view. Danse wished desperately that he could see her eyes; more than anything he wished to stand up and flat-out state what she had done for him to every soul there, display his...admiration.

Was that even the right word? Admiration, adoration, affection--

His face was strangely warm all of a sudden. Danse flinched, staring down at his mug of coffee with single-minded intent as the buzz of conversation around him picked back up. His mind raced, pieces falling into place in a nigh-unstoppable rush.

Affection. Like...what he had felt for Cutler? Almost. A little to the left of that. Brighter.

Happier.

Not perfect, nothing could ever be perfect. But...

"Elizabeth Vega?" A male ghoul's voice barely penetrated the paladin's consciousness, his words not really registering until, "Beth, it really is you!" The ghoul exclaimed. "I thought I was crazy! It's me, Beth. It's Nate."

"...Nate?"

Danse's head whipped up so fast his neck popped in warning, the paladin having been only tangentially aware of the conversation happening mere feet away from his position. But at that particular nickname his entire being snapped to attention, eyes darting sidelong from where he had been intently studying his mug of coffee.

The ghoul man that Vega was currently speaking to was an inch or two taller than her, with a single tuft of dark hair that still remained over his left ear. He appeared absolutely delighted, but Vega seemed...wary.

"Beth," Danse heard him say once more, and he watched Backhand visibly tense. "I never thought I would see you again! After the bombs dropped--I mean how the hell did...is that Shaun? God, he got so big!"

"Nate, is there something I can do for you?"

Nate.

Danse's breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry. Nate? Nate her ex-husband from before the war? Nate, the man who had divorced her once he found out she was pregnant with his child?

Somehow he had managed to survive?

Oh, what an incredibly bitter thing to think! Danse was somewhat startled by his own dark path of reasoning. But it wasn't untrue; his mind railed at the unfairness of it all.

The paladin stood up, his mug of coffee forgotten. He wasn't exactly certain what he was about to do, but he also wasn't going to do nothing. He cast around wildly for a plan as he approached Elizabeth from behind around the table, and Danse latched onto what was probably the least intelligent course of action that he could have conjured up.

"Elizabeth," the paladin called, loud enough to be heard over the general hubbub. She turned and Danse briefly spied a look of intense relief on her face before he enveloped her in his arms. "You appeared cold, figured I could warm you up a bit." He reasoned aloud, smiling benignly over her head at Nate. "Who's this?"

Vega began to introduce him even with her face still comically buried in Danse's chest, "Nate, I'd like you to meet-"

"Paladin Logan Danse, Northeastern chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Danse interrupted her smoothly, extending a hand to Nate. "I've heard a great deal about you, Nate. It's a privilege to meet you, and a welcome surprise to see that you endured the radiation."

"Uh, is it? Well I-I guess it is." Nate looked flummoxed and crestfallen all at once, glumly shaking Danse's hand. "I suppose you two are, er..."

"Vega is my partner, yes. For over a year now." Danse replied once the other man had trailed off, his tone saccharine-sweet. He heard Vega gasp against his chest. "She is a truly incredible woman. I'm immensely lucky."

"Yeah, I...yeah. Uh, I have to go...talk to--I'll see you later, Beth." Nate squeaked, sidestepping away from the two of them and making a beeline for the road.

"I can't even believe it." Backhand's voice grated with tangible irritation. "I cannot even fuckin' fathom--I...dammit, why him?!" She seethed into Danse's jacket, clenching her fists on his hips. "Phew, boy, I sort of thought I'd already dealt with all that resentment." The woman admitted unhappily.

"You do things in your own time." Danse replied quietly. "Are you alright?"

Vega went still for a second. Danse felt her unclench her fists, hands going slack on his body. Had he misspoken-?

"In my own time, huh?" Vega muttered, almost like she was thinking out loud. "I...I'll be back in a little while, Danse."

…

I'm not panicking. Definitely not panicking. One hundred percent not panicking, totally fine.

Backhand scurried away from the paladin, trying to hide the tell-tale redness of her face. She needed to find either Mrs. O'Brian or MacCready, fast.

As luck would have it, MacCready found her. The former merc tapped on her shoulder as she bounced up on her tiptoes to search for Mrs. O'Brian. "Hey boss, Shaun wanted me to ask you if he could sleep over with Duncan tonight." The man began after she whirled around to face him.

"Yes." Vega replied, perhaps a little too quick and definitely too enthusiastic. "Mac you're a lifesaver, I was just about to ask-"

"-for me and Cait to watch your kid so you and the tin can can get some alone time?" MacCready smirked, giving her a wink. "Dang General, I don't think I've ever seen you so red! Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Shut up, Mac, you're so exasperating." Backhand jabbed a teasing finger into the center of his chest. "You talk, Mayor, and I'll know." The threat was toothless; the both of them grinned at each other after their fierce staring contest. "Thanks for everything."

"Don't mention it. I figure getting you some Brotherhood...uh, Steel, heh, is a pretty decent way to make up for the fact that I didn't bring you a present." Mac shrugged, fiddling with the bill of his hat. "I have beef with the Capital Brotherhood, but these guys...I mean, they don't seem all bad." He allowed grudgingly, giving Vega a gentle nudge with his shoulder. "Go on."

A bracing shot of whiskey shored up her tenuous spark of confidence and Vega marched back to Danse, the large man now engaged in conversation with X6 while Shaun, Duncan, Bridget, Nat and Matthew swirled around their ankles.

Danse was saying, "--collateral ramifications would be inadvisable, I suggest a soft breach. With adequate preparation-"

"Adequate preparation on your part borders on over-caution." X6 interrupted him dismissively. "However, I will take it into account and speak with Preston on the matter. He seems to share your morality. A pity."

"Play at the unfeeling machine all you want, X6." Danse retorted. "It does you no favors. You have people who care about you now, and you would not have asked for my input if you believed the endeavour would be futile."

"True enough, Paladin." The vaguest hint of a smile tugged at X6's mouth. "You are capable."

"I suppose that is the best that I can hope for."

"Hey, Danse? Can I uh, have a little chat?" Backhand asked, stifling a hysterical giggle when Danse immediately looked guilty. The paladin nodded, bidding X6 farewell and attempting to sidestep around the children who were currently playing tag in an ever-tightening circle. "Not um, here though. Let's go to my house, okay? Shaun, you're all set to stay overnight with Duncan, Mac and Cait, right?"

"Yeah!" Shaun replied breathlessly, pausing in his chase to give his mother a massive grin. "Already brought my blankets over and everything. Mister MacCready said Duncan and I could sleep in their wagon, and that he'd tell us Grognak stories!"

Danse's brow furrowed. "We are leaving the gathering, then?" He asked, looking a bit distressed when Elizabeth nodded. "A moment, please." He turned back to the children, calling for Shaun.

The boy bolted away from the group, skidding in the muddy slush. "Yeah, Mister Danse?" He asked, his impatience plain.

"I, er. I...happy holidays." The paladin mumbled, extracting a small bundle from his jacket pocket and giving it to the child.

"Whoa, for me?!" Shaun practically crowed, tearing through the old newspaper to reveal the gift.

It was a sturdy carved vehicle, its edges sleek and smooth. The wood was coated in shiny green paint, giving the little truck a distinct air of newness in this post-apocalyptic world. Danse swallowed audibly as Shaun stared down at the toy without saying a word.

Backhand closed her eyes, hoping and praying that the kid remembered his manners. She hadn't even known Danse had planned on giving him something. Did he make the truck himself? It was wood, not the usual plastic or aluminum of pre-war children's toys. When had he found the time to make a toy? She suddenly remembered his uncharacteristically wide yawn that morning and her eyes flew open, darting to look at Danse. He had been staying up, hadn't he?

"I love it, Mister Danse!" Shaun interrupted her mental panic with his enthusiastic eruption, smiling wide and bolting forward to hug Danse around the waist. Danse's own relief was evident, the large man patting the child on the back with an awkward chuckle.

Oh Jesus, I'm not going to cry, Vega insisted, taking a deep breath. Nope, won't do it.

"Mom look, look what Mister Danse gave me!" Shaun exclaimed, as if she hadn't been standing right there the whole time.

"It's really cool, right?" Backhand grinned, rumpling his hair and then giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Make sure you wash your face and brush your teeth before bed, okay? I hope you and Duncan have fun. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom, I will. Thank you again, Mister Danse!" Shaun rushed to say, clearly eager to return to his friends.

"Alright, go on." Vega tapped the end of his nose, "go have fun." She watched him scramble through the slush, nearly tripping again. "Jesus, he's a bull in a china shop," she sighed, making Danse snort. "Shall we, Paladin?"

He fell into step beside her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket and his back ramrod straight. He was silent until they were actually in Elizabeth's living room, the young woman barely able to shut the front door before he started babbling, "if I offended you earlier, if I-I overstepped my bounds, I apologize. I just recalled what you had said about the name he used for you and I'm afraid I started moving before I could reconsider-"

"Danse, do you remember how we started all of this?" Vega cut off what promised to be a downright incredible justification, cocking her head to the side. "How we met, and what happened?"

"You came to our aid at the Cambridge police station. Then you carried on assisting me with our mission. You helped acquire the deep range transmitter. You greased my armor." Danse paused, fidgeting. "You...said it was alright if I wanted to kiss you."

“It’s alright if you want to kiss me, you know.” Her smile was gentle. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Vega nodded, smiling once more. "The offer still stands, naturally."

"I...things are different now. I'm different. You still...even now, after everything that you know about me?"

"Of course."

"I didn't want to believe you felt that strongly about our...about us." Danse was smiling, actually smiling! "I'd given up hope a long time ago that I would ever be enough for anyone. I was never...enough. Smart enough, or strong enough or...well, just enough, I suppose." He shrugged, his smile fading. "With what happened between Maxson and I, and previously with Cutler…" The large man trailed off.

Vega took a deep breath, nodding furiously. "I do feel strongly for you. Danse, I know that this is a lot, b-but I...uh, I think I love you." She gestured up and down at the speechless paladin, feeling the heat that bloomed fresh on her cheeks. "Not just the wrapping, y'know, but uh. The whole package. You."

His look of shock and confusion slowly dissolved into something unreadable, and he broke eye contact for a moment to stare down at his boots.

"Uh, it's okay if you don't reciprocate! O-Or even if you can't reciprocate, I'm not going to be offended!" Elizabeth rushed to add, waving her hands nervously. "I know that this is a lot to dump on you all at once, I-I'm sorry. I don't want you feeling pressured to give me an affirmative answer just because you don't want to hurt my feelings or whatever."

"I...I can't say that I haven't thought about it." He admitted softly. "But Shaun, he needs--Vega, I'm not really human."

"Neither is Shaun, but I don't love him any less." Elizabeth replied. "Shaun is my son. For all intents and purposes, he is my real son, Danse."

"It's one thing to overlook it for a child, Vega. But I'm...what if something goes wrong with me? What if there's some sort of fault in my programming, and that's why I'm like this? What if-"

"It's alright if you don't want me, or even if this is too much right now. I know, it's a lot." Vega interrupted him, her heart sinking but determined to make damn sure he didn't feel pressured.

"Christ, that's not what I meant. I just want to make certain you know exactly what it is that you're agreeing to." Danse cut her off, his shoulders rigid like he was bracing for impact.

"I understand, Danse. I've understood for a while now." Elizabeth dared to rest her hand on his arm. "I want to be with you. I know that nothing in this shitshow of a future is guaranteed and I want to have something good in my life before my inevitable demise at the hands of some overconfident mole rat."

Danse nodded stiffly, and then grabbed her by the lapels of her canvas coat. Vega found herself abruptly pinned against the wall, Danse's mouth hungrily seeking her own. "You mean that?" He panted.

The brush of the stubble on his face reminded her of their first kiss in the Cambridge station and drove home the differences between he and Nate for the hundredth time. Nate was always clean-shaven, favored pecks on the cheek and lived saturated with cologne. But Danse was grizzled, earnest, reeking of the outdoors and power armor grease. Nate had been eloquent, while Danse was taciturn or tripped over his words. Nate was cold and calculating, and Danse…

Danse was fiery and raw, more vulnerable now than she could ever recall him being before. His knee nudged against her thigh and without conscious input, Elizabeth parted her legs for it and threw her arms around his neck to try to urge him even closer. "Yes, Danse," she gasped. "Oh, Jesus, yes, fuck-ing shit--"

She ground herself down against his leg, relieved that everything seemed to be functioning normally and somewhat impressed by her body's ability to mount such a rapid response after a two hundred-plus year dry spell!

"Language," Danse rumbled in reply, his hands tugging her heavy coat off of her shoulders. "Too fast?"

"No, hell no!" Backhand protested, "not fast enough."

"Shh," Danse rested his hands on her hips, shoving up her shirt slightly so he could touch bare skin. "I have you, Vega." Vega pushed herself excitedly into his grip, grinding on his thigh and arching her back. The way his breath hitched sent shockwaves to her core; the way he watched her...

"Danse we should...we should-" Vega's voice wavered as Danse laved her throat with tender kisses. "-should--bedroom, bed."

"Yes." The paladin growled, making no move to actually follow the direction. That is, until he hoisted her up to rest on his hips.

Backhand yelped, her thighs gripping his sides tightly. "H-Hey!"

Danse pressed his forehead to her own, brown eyes attempting to read her soul. "Elizabeth…" he sighed, his expression gone hopelessly soft. "I should warn you, if we...if you do this, I...listen, I can be a little--a little wordy, sometimes. If I am speaking too much-"

"Hey, no, you talk as much as you'd like, okay? Doesn't bug me at all." Vega assured him, slightly curious about what this might mean. Wordy?

"Elizabeth, you are everything that I never knew I was looking for." Danse murmured. "When I lost Cutler, I didn't think I deserved to be happy again. I assumed that my failure would continue to darken any future triumph, and when the majority of Gladius was...I feared that I was unfit for my rank. How could anyone have faith in my skills after such a catastrophic loss of life?"

"It's hard being the one making the choices. You have to be able to bear the burden of responsibility and also the burden of guilt." Vega reasoned, sympathizing with his plight.

"You had faith in me, though. You didn't even know me, but you didn't judge me for my inadequacy and you allowed me some damn peace. I'm just sorry you had to go through that abuse at Maxson's whim for my sake." Danse cupped her hand in his own, pressing kisses to her scarred knuckles. "You've already done so much for me, Vega. Let me undo you?" He offered seriously, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I uh, I-I can't say I've ever been propositioned quite like that!" Backhand stuttered, certain that her flush covered her entire body at this point.

His laughter, heard so rarely, washed over her like a tidal wave. "Forgive me."

"Only if you keep asking me to have sex like that." Vega shifted her hand in his grip, intertwining their fingers. "C'mon, bedroom."

"It's not just that." Danse tried to protest, shaking his head. "I care about you. About your wellbeing. I want to make you happy."

"You do. So happy. I'm so glad that you're here with me still." Vega turned in the doorway of her room when he set her down, seizing Danse by the collar of his worn t-shirt and tugging him into her arms. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Danse."

"You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that."

"It's the truth, though!" She insisted.

Danse surged forward, his kisses still rough and demanding as he fought to claim her affection. But she gave it freely, all he could ever want and more.

He stripped her of her shirt and dragged his own off over his head, chuckling at the way she greedily drank in the bare skin he presented. "See something you like, General?"

He was hairier than she was used to, but Backhand decided it suited him. Nate, after all, had been absolutely adamant that body hair was grotesque, and now look at him. He'd likely never have to worry about that again.

Thinking of Nate yet again put a frown on her face and Danse paused, giving her a quizzical look. "Is something amiss?"

"Oh! No, I'm sorry. I was just remembering. Nate was all…" Elizabeth gestured vaguely at Danse's chest. "He shaved everything. I'm not used to all...well, seeing so much."

"Is it off-putting? I assure you it's within the Brotherhood's hygiene guidelines, but if you don't like it I-"

"No, I love it. It's new. I've seen your arms, after all, I knew what I was getting into." Vega teased, grinning to ease his worry. "If you can accept all my stretch marks and leftovers, I can definitely handle your chest pelt."

"I'm planning on doing far more than accepting." Danse cradled her breasts in his palms, the paladin lowering his head to draw his tongue over one of her nipples. "I don't care." He soothed when Elizabeth tried to stammer out something else in regard to her stretch marks. "I don't care. It doesn't make you any less desirable to me, Elizabeth."

Vega squeezed her eyes shut, kissing his forehead as he continued to cautiously rouse her peaks until they were stiff and aching for more. Then his thumbs took over, stroking in slow, firm circles that made her quiver from head to toe. "You...you're really good at that." Elizabeth said faintly.

"I'm pleased you think so." Danse grunted when her fingers found his belt buckle. "It has been a significant amount of time for me as well, I...my excitement may be a bit obvious." He admitted, his smile sheepish.

Vega's breath caught in her throat, her hands trembling as she struggled to draw down the worn zipper of his jeans. The underside of his cock throbbed against her palm when she dared to slip her hand into his briefs, his skin searing and smooth.

Danse huffed out a breath, crumpling a little at her tentative touch. "Elizabeth," he groaned, hiding his face in her neck as he rolled his hips eagerly into her hand.

"Keep saying my name like that." She ordered, laughing when the paladin nodded rapidly into her shoulder. "I love you, Danse."

...

Danse rumbled again, words failing him while Elizabeth's fingers wrapped around his cock. This seemed like a dream, another one of his fantasies brought into being. He couldn't seem to do anything aside from stare down at her hand.

"Hey, Danse?"

He jerked to attention, eyes flying up to meet her own guiltily. "Y-Yes, Vega?" He stuttered.

"Do you...uh, y'know." Backhand fumbled to undo the button on her jeans. "You can, if you'd like." She finished awkwardly.

No sooner had she given him permission than Danse was pulling her hand out of his pants, urging her backwards onto her bed even as he kissed her battered knuckles again. "Yes." He grated out, kneeling to untie her boots so he could get her pants off. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes."

"A for enthusiasm, big guy." Elizabeth teased, lazily fingercombing his short hair back. Her veneer of composure was shattered when the paladin eased her underwear down her legs, the young woman covering her face as if she was embarrassed. "Listen, just uh, go easy on me. It's been over two hundred years, after all." She reasoned weakly.

Danse swallowed hard. Cutler had always praised his dirty talk, the calculated way he could take apart a person with his words and touch alone. Maxson hadn't appreciated his speech, granted, but perhaps…

"You're saying you don't want me to bury my fingers in you, Elizabeth? You don't want me to open you up, work my way into that beautiful, flushed little cunt of yours?" Danse rasped, two fingers tracing lightly on her pubic mound. Her cesarean scar was faintly visible, and he felt a brief flare of concern before recalling that was indeed where the scar was from.

"Oh, Jesus. Okay." Vega gasped, blue eyes wide in what Danse could only assume was shock. "Keep that up and you won't have to worry about using anything else. Fuck, Danse, have some pity here." She pleaded, burying her hands in her hair.

"Language. Do you deserve my pity? How would you earn it?" The paladin queried, the heel of his hand applying steady pressure to her mound now.

"I can be good, Paladin! I can be really good. So good." Her breathless use of his title had Danse's cock pounding, though he tried not to make it obvious. "Please Danse, please touch me…"

Danse climbed up onto the bed alongside her, gently parting her labia with his fingers. "You'll be good for me, Elizabeth?" He asked, propping himself up with an elbow.

"Yes, please."

She had wonderful manners. Danse grazed her clit and her breath stuttered, the paladin spreading the liberal lubrication that she had already created with deft, slow strokes of his index. "Please, what?"

"P-Please...Danse."

He cautiously eased one finger into her, exhaling raggedly when her hand sought out his cock. "Vega-"

"Shh, let me." Elizabeth hushed him, her smile a little dreamy as Danse crooked his finger and rubbed in just the right spot. "Oh, f-uck, Paladin, you--"

"Language, Vega. Can't have you being a bad example while I'm knuckle deep in your cunt." Danse admonished, groaning when she whimpered. "You're so tight, this could take ages. We'll need to come up with some stretches to cope with this." He teased gruffly, sliding in another finger and spreading her open. "Mm, Elizabeth, you need to relax. Relax." He murmured, latching onto her breast.

He felt her pussy clench down around his fingers and he took a greedy suckle from her breast, making Vega cry out his name, "Danse!" She twitched and writhed under his deft attack, her thighs quivering even as she tried to spread them wider for him. Her hand fell still on his cock, not that Danse minded. It had always been more about his partner, he couldn't care less if nothing was done for him. Watching someone else fall apart because of him...now that was its own reward.

"What do I need to do to get you there, hmm?" Danse taunted playfully, tonguing sloppily over the peak of her breast. "What will it take, Elizabeth?"

She arched her back in response, pressing her breast firmly against his mouth, and Danse gently nibbled on the sensitive area she had offered up. Elizabeth sobbed out, shoving one hand down to her cunt to spread herself even wider for his plundering fingers. "More, Danse! Please please please-" she begged, her moan when he pressed a third finger into her absolutely enough to have Danse hurrying to talk himself down. "Yes, Danse." She was practically growling, her arousal something primal and untamed.

If Danse had his way, it would stay like that forever.

"What is it that you want, Vega?" His inquiry was almost lazy, three fingers stroking in and out with much less resistance now. "Hmm, I wonder if you're wet enough to take me."

"You can't just-" Vega made a noise of dismay. "That's not fair, Danse, that's not fair, you know it's not. Please, please fuck me."

Jesus. Danse almost choked on his own breath, letting his fingers slip out of her cunt. "How do you want me?" His voice broke noticeably. It felt like a lifetime since he had been desired, wanted in such a blatant and strangely pure fashion. She loved him. She wanted him inside her. Wanted him to make love to her. Wanted him.

The speed at which she flung herself up a little higher on the bed made Danse want to laugh, but then she was arching her back and looking over her shoulder at him and he suddenly forgot how to breathe for a moment. "This okay?" She panted, brown hair all tumbled around her face as she took off her glasses and pitched them in the general direction of her bedside table.

Danse nodded hurriedly, kicking his pants off. "If you need me to stop, just grab my hand." He instructed.

"This isn't exactly my first time getting fucked, Danse-"

"Language," the paladin reprimanded her with a chuckle, greedily fondling her rear as he mounted up behind her. "You have such a beautiful form, Vega." He murmured, leaning over to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. "An absolute vision."

"I do have nice tits."

Danse rolled his eyes, slipping his hands down to grope said breasts. She gasped out, rocking back against him as he agreed, "yes you do, that can't be denied. Soft, the perfect size, they fit in my hands so well, and so sensitive." He found himself laughing when she whimpered again. "Don't offer up all your weak spots unless you want them taken advantage of, Vega."

"The only thing I want to take advantage of right now is the raging hard-on I can feel." Elizabeth wriggled and Danse grunted, shuddering. "Pl-ease Danse, please put it in me."

The paladin slipped his cock between her labia, the hot, slick flesh pressing against him mercilessly as he teased her. He suddenly felt her fingers on his cock and then-

"Fuck." The paladin grated out the uncharacteristic curse through his teeth, his fists meeting the bedding on either side of her body as he fought the urge to thrust himself home in one breath.

Elizabeth half-collapsed while he slowly, slowly rutted into her, the woman panting and clawing at the blankets. "Mmmgod, Danse-" she slurred, sighing loudly. "So good, fuck, Danse…"

Danse toyed with her nipples, stupidly snarling "language," as she keened in reply. "I'll take care of you, Elizabeth. Be good for me." He pressed a kiss to her temple, smirking at the way her body quaked when he finally bottomed out in her. "That's it, look at you, taking all of me so well," he praised. "Now, how can I make you come?"

"Fu--Please use your big cock to get me off, oh please Danse!" She begged and Danse fondled her breasts yet again.

"You don't want me to touch you here, just like this?" He asked, stroking over her nipples and lingering to tease the area. "They're so hard, though, begging for my attention."

Backhand made a noise of despair, burying her face in her pillow.

"I think you need me to play with them, don't you? You like when I touch them like this." Danse muttered, thinking out loud and coming to that realization even as the words left his mouth. "What is it about it that you like?"

"S-Sensitive." Vega whimpered, "feels good."

Danse rumbled again, bending over to press his chest to her back so he could whisper in her ear, "does it feel good when I'm inside you, Elizabeth? Can you feel how hard I am for you? Feel how badly I need you?"

Elizabeth gifted him this pitiful sound, canting her hips and clenching down around his cock so tightly it took Danse's breath away. "Yes, I love it. I need you too, Danse." She murmured, shifting back and forth ever so slightly.

"Good. I'm glad." Danse took hold of her hips, seating his cock as deeply as he could in her cunt. Elizabeth whined, burying her face in her pillow again as he slowly began to make love to her.

Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, had never been a man who took sex lightly. It was too important. Even after everything that had happened with Maxson, Danse still held to that belief. The display of vulnerability, the offer of power in exchange for pleasurable release, the brief moments of tenderness in an existence that was soul-crushingly difficult…

It was serious. It always was.

Vega's arms gave out and she slumped onto the bed, but Danse followed her down. Covering her with his body, the paladin thrust into her again and again, her soft whimpers and cries of his name music to his ears. "What do you need, sweetheart?" He asked raggedly when she began to squirm and arch back against him. "What can I give you, Elizabeth?"

"Fuck me, Danse!" She pleaded, turning her head to the side so she could see him.

"Language," Danse smiled, kissing her temple again. "But understood, ma'am."

…

For the first time since she'd awoken to an irradiated hellscape, Vega was wholly content to just lay down and be taken care of.

Danse was huge, proportionate to his already overgrown size, and he made the most incredible sounds when she inadvertently squeezed down on him. Groans burring in his chest like some untamed animal; he seemed content to just slowly fuck her into oblivion. Which was honestly more than she thought she would ever get.

Her fantasies, much as she'd believed they were wrong or silly at the time, didn't hold a candle to the reality of having Danse on top of her. She had gotten off more than once to this exact idea, being dominated and pinned by the massive paladin. This was a dream come true.

Elizabeth whined when he bottomed out in her again and just rutted himself back and forth slightly, making her feel every inch of his cock. The underside of his dick throbbed against the spot that made her see stars and then, the bastard, he slid his cock out of her cunt to press the head to her clit for a second. "Turn over for me?" He requested, punctuated by a gentle smack to her ass.

Vega rushed to obey, eager to have him back inside her as quickly as possible. The woman spread her legs wide so Danse could settle in between them and when the paladin did, he shifted upwards to kiss her tenderly.

"I've wanted this for so long." He admitted quietly.

"So have I!" Elizabeth replied in delight, her grin beaming. She was sure she looked like a mess, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat and her face all flushed. But the way Danse was smiling at her…

She found she didn't really care about her appearance at this point in time.

"I love you." Danse murmured as he slid back inside her.

"I l-love you, Danse." Vega stuttered, the natural curvature of his cock applying steady pressure to her g-spot. "Make me feel so good, fuck."

"Language." He growled, making her laugh and then moan.

"Feels too good, brain can't cope." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck and tugging him closer until all he could do was grind down into her in a merciless manner. The motion flung her towards her peak, disconnecting her mouth even further from her brain and making her ramble into his ear, "God, I love you so much, make me feel so good--"

"I love you too, Elizabeth." He panted into the hollow of her throat, "you feel incredible. Outstanding."

Elizabeth wasn't sure how she could feel both so aroused she thought she might die and so annoyed that she wanted to explode. "Danse, did you just call my pussy outstanding?"

"It's not an incorrect statement, from my perspective. It's perfect. Wet and tight and hot." The paladin praised her freely, a hand lowering to apply gentle pressure over the scar on her lower stomach. "Beautiful."

I am not going to cry, Vega told herself sternly as she hid her face in Danse's neck. Definitely not going to cry, not going to.

A sob somehow escaped her as she came and Danse froze, his whole body flinching when her cunt clenched down on his dick. "V...Vega?" He asked tentatively.

"I'm fine! I'm fine, I promise, m'not hurt or anything. My brain is just dumb." Elizabeth hiccupped, rubbing her eyes. "I'm okay, Danse, I'm fine."

The paladin seemed uncertain and she couldn't blame him, she didn't seem fine even if she felt a thousand times better than she had in literal months.

"I swear I'm okay, that was just...it was really intense, y'know?" She mumbled awkwardly, unable to make eye contact anymore.

She felt Danse shift his weight and then he settled down on top of her, holding her close and tight. "You're sure?" He murmured, "if you're overwhelmed, that's entirely acceptable. I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, shit no, you feel incredible. I'm not going to be able to walk after this." Vega huffed, giggling a little when he rolled his eyes. "Keep going, okay? It feels fantastic."

"If you're certain." Danse acquiesced, kissing a hot trail down her neck when she nodded. "Let me know if you need me to stop."

Watching his forearms cord with muscle as he propped himself back up again, Vega's mouth went dry. "I have to say, this might be the best night of my life."

Danse pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, the tenderness of the action a wonderful contrast to the needy way he sheathed his cock in her body once more. "I've thought about this." He confessed again, punctuated by a roll of his hips. "What you'd sound like, look like beneath me. You put my imagination to shame."

"What did I do in your dreams?" Backhand asked, unable to keep from breathlessly laughing when Danse hid his face in her neck. "So shy, Paladin! Even with that huge cock in me?"

"It's lewd, Elizabeth, I-I'm not proud of it." He mumbled. "Shouldn't have thought of you that way." He spread her legs wider, one hand on the back of each knee to urge her to bend.

"Mm, you thought about fucking me? Nice to know I'm not the only one with dirty thoughts."

"I did not." He protested staunchly. His cock slid back and forth between her pussy lips in a purposeful teasing motion. "I thought about how...I thought about how good it would feel to make love to you." He continued, his voice wavering slightly as his dick brushed her entrance and he plunged deep yet again. "Thought about how good I could make you feel."

Now it was Vega's turn to be shy, the woman looking away from him and flushing.

"It was still inappropriate at the...time, but I assure you it was never about that. I am not-" Danse struggled for a moment to find the words, before he sighed and rested his forehead against her own. "This already isn't simple, and I know I make it miles less so. Forgive me."

"I feel like it's pretty simple." Vega gasped, twitching as his fingers landed on her clit. "I f--fuck, Danse--I feel like it's real simple. You like me. Love me, yeah?"

"It's more than that, dammit." Danse growled, rubbing her clit in merciless circles. "What you did for me...how can I ever be worth your affection? Hell, your time?"

Elizabeth threw her head back, arching her entire body up into his chest. "Whatever good I give to you," she moaned, almost exasperated that they were even having this discussion, "you deserve it. Take it."

Danse's hands latched down on her hips, thumbs stroking back and forth over her pronounced stretch marks as he fucked into her so fiercely that Vega swore she saw stars. His pelvis ground against her own, body hair providing a delicious new sensation that had Vega grasping at the blankets in an effort to keep herself grounded. "I'm going to come, Elizabeth." Danse panted. "Where do you-"

"Inside." Backhand implored him, "come inside me, Paladin, please come inside me-" Her voice broke as she begged and Danse groaned loud, the sound incredulous.

"You...inside? Are you sure?" He asked through gritted teeth, dark brown eyes conveying his uncertainty. In reply, Vega dug the heels of her feet in beneath his rear, effectively locking him in place.

She caught a handful of his hair, gently tugging it until he leaned down again so she could seethe in his ear, "yes."

"Oh, dammit." With that wonderfully characteristic swear, Danse shoved his mouth against hers gracelessly. The heat in her belly spilled over from the onslaught of his enthusiastic thrusts and Backhand cried out, fingernails digging into his back when she came a second time.

Danse, either spurred on by her sounds or by the way her pussy gripped his dick (maybe a combination? Backhand mused) found his release seconds after, his voice breaking and dropping into a lower tone as he moaned her name. Her real name.

Elizabeth.

Vega cupped the nape of his neck, guiding his face into the hollow of her shoulder. "Lay down, sweetheart, you're shaking." She murmured, stroking over his quivering back.

"Don't want to flatten you." Danse rasped, his dick still throbbing inside her.

"Lay down. It's okay." Elizabeth flexed her bicep. "I'm strong, I can handle it." Danse laughed wearily, almost immediately going limp on top of her. She wrapped her arms back around him, fingers digging into the knots that she found to ease out the tension. "There, isn't that better?"

"Mmmmuch." Danse slurred into her neck, sounding exhausted. "Love you."

"I love you. Sleep, okay? We'll get cleaned up later. Right now though you seem like you could use a nap."

Danse nodded, the tangled mess of his hair mashed flat against her cheek in the process. "Want...to be a good parent." He mumbled several minutes later, just as Vega had thought he was dozing off. Danse propped himself up with one arm, cradling Vega's cheek in his palm. His thumb absently traced the cryo burn marks from the stasis as he continued, "a true partner for you. I don't know if you...if you even want me in that capacity, I--I don't know whether you would prefer that Shaun thinks of me as simply your friend, but I-"

"Danse," Elizabeth interrupted him sternly, raising an eyebrow. "Someone who's simply a friend wouldn't be balls deep in me."

Danse sputtered, his blush spreading down his neck to his chest. Despite his proclivity for dirty talk in the moment, he was endearingly embarrassed by her blunt words. Vega felt her heart pound as he floundered to collect himself, the large man looking away.

He's really nothing at all like Nate.

"Danse." Her voice was gentler this time, unmistakable affection bleeding through. "I would have to ask Shaun, of course, and I'd like to have an adjustment period before I do so that he can get comfortable with the idea on his own, but…" The young woman swallowed hard. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? Oh sure, she could handle the vulnerability of being naked and fucked with absolute abandon but this? This was where her brain drew the line? Unbelievable, Backhand grumbled at herself. "I think the odds are in your favor." She concluded with a grin.

"You...even though I'm not-?"

"He's probably the last person to care about that kinda' stuff, Danse. C'mon." Vega chided, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. "Now. We are...absolutely disgusting. We need a bath big time."

"I...you're right, of course." Danse agreed absently, still seeming shocked at the whole scenario. "I should...w-we should bathe. Er, at the same time. To save water." He didn't meet her eyes, his attention focused somewhere by her left shoulder.

Elizabeth laughed, bumping their foreheads together before carefully scooting up the bed. His cock slipped out of her and she couldn't help her sigh, the noise echoed by the paladin who tilted his chin to catch her with a kiss.

"You are amazing." He breathed when they parted, his smile small but sincere. "I'm...I'll be hard-pressed to keep my hands off you, Elizabeth."

"Why bother?" Vega asked, chuckling as he ducked back in for another kiss.

...

Hours later, Danse laid awake while Elizabeth slept peacefully on his chest. The paladin stared up at the ceiling, his mind running rampant.

The future.

He hadn't really dared to think about it since discovering his true identity. Hadn't felt like it was something he deserved. After all, if he was just a machine, it hardly mattered. But Elizabeth…

She thought it mattered. She wanted him. Wanted him to stay with her. Wanted him to act as a father. Pending Shaun's approval, of course.

It was surreal how much his life had changed, how far they had come in such a short amount of time. Danse was a little overwhelmed by it all, if he was being honest. Scared, yet hopeful at the same time. And, he thought as he wrapped his arm around Elizabeth, incredibly, immensely grateful.

This new world was unforgiving, the universe coldly testing the mettle of a man time and again. But Danse had finally come out the other side, and he liked to think he had changed for the better.

Whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Ad Victoriam, General Vega. Thank you for having faith in me.

#fallout 4 #fallout four #paladin danse #paladin danse x sole survivor #paladin danse/sole survivor #paladin danse imagine #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #slow burn #Eventual romance #The Happy Ending #that's right #paladin danse x f!sole #fo4 companions imagine #fo4 companions #epilogue #the gang's all here

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breathings-of-the-heart · 5 years

Text

Imagine Levi Confessing his Love for You

A/N: THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ THE TEXT BELOW BEFORE PROCEEDING THANK YOU :))

HERE IS A TIMELINE / EXPLANATION / BACKGROUND INFORMATION BECAUSE CASE THE TIME SKIPS OF THIS STORY ARE CONFUSING: I’m sorry for that everyone, I know the dates are sloppy and as a whole this fic doesn’t make too much sense; I tried to edit this piece as best I could to make the story as easy to follow as possible, but seeing as I can’t unpublish part 1 or 2, the cleanup still leaves things bit unclear. These imagines were originally chapters of a longer Levi x Reader fic that I decided to discontinue, which is why there are so many loose ends. Here was my original intention for this story, broken down for the few who choose to read the Author’s Notes lol.

We are going to do this in the order of the 3 part fic (I also put attached all the links to the titles)

Part 1: Imagine Relating to Mikasa About Loving Someone in the Military

The scene is set during the events of SEASON 1 of Attack on Titan, BEFORE the Female Titan Arc. (Y/N) was also hand selected by Levi to be part of the original Special Operation Squad; she bit her hand at the dinner table along with Petra, Gunther, Eld, and Oluo to show their dedication and understanding towards Eren wayyy back in the beginning of the series. The Survey Corps is making preparations for their first attempt to go to Shiganshina since the Fall of Wall Maria and not only uncover the mole who killed captive titans Sonny and Bean, but also to get to Eren’s basement.

Part 2: To Love Another

The flashback and opening scene in the beginning of this writing piece (where (Y/N) and Hange are talking to each other) occurs shortly after (Y/N) wakes up in the infirmary room, before anyone breaks the news that she, aside from an injured Levi, is the last surviving member of Squad Levi after Annie killed the others in the Forest of Giant Trees in her female titan form. Hange’s intentions were to bring the (Y/N) and Levi together so they would be able to support each other during this mutual loss. But alas, (Y/N) accepts his rejection and the two suffer the aftermath of this tragic news alone. To read this arc for context/bonus content to get a better understanding of this mini series, see my posts (as a sort of prequel, if you will) Imagine Levi Finding you Injured on an Expedition and Imagine Being the Last Member of Squad Levi To Survive to fill that time gap :)

In real-time, all of Season 2 and Season 3 Part 1 have gone by with limited interaction between (Y/N) and Levi. This part of the story is occurring during Season 3 PART 2, (spoilers) after the Coup D'etat, and after Historia becomes Queen. (Y/N) is no longer an active soldier, having sustained injuries too severe to be reliable in combat. She remains useful to the Corps as a battle strategist, however, which allows her to stay. The Scouting Regiment is currently preparing to go to Eren’s basement in their second attempt, knowing Reiner and Berthold will be waiting for them there.

Part 3: Imagine Levi Confessing his Love for You (YOU ARE HERE)

This part takes place pretty much a week or so after the events of “To Love Another.” It is revealed how much (Y/N) has isolated herself in the months between Parts 1 and 2 from not only Levi, but Hange, the only one besides Mikasa who knew about her feelings for Levi prior to their falling out. (Y/N) confesses her feelings for Levi before the mission to Shiganshina in Season one, and the fic parallels itself and comes full circle once their final interaction occurs before the second and final mission to Shiganshina, for which, (Y/N) is unable to go for her death would be almost certain. She seen to be more valuable inside the walls, where she can carry on the duties of the Survey Corps should the entire regiment collapse during the mission. This is the final part :)

I HOPE THAT CLEARS THINGS UP!

requested by @a-single-uwo @dracq and @little-diva-gurl and a lovely anon who def isn’t the happiest that this took so long. Deepest apologies! Hope this was worth the wait. I also hope this post finds everyone safe and in good health during these crazy times <3

~~~~~

Dread bottled up in the bottom of your stomach, which threatened to fall down to your knees. Even Hange’s eyes brimmed with concern when she informed you that Levi requested your presence in his office; all of which was out of the blue, uncharacteristic, after months of him being accustomed to giving you your space.

Feigning annoyance, you stared at the soldier dummy two paces ahead, dented heavily with the marks of your punches. The sun was beating down on the early autumn day, and heat waves rose from the ground. It illuminated the glistening perspiration sliding down your figure, torso rising and falling in short breaths of exhaustion.

Hange watched you carefully from a distance. She noticed your tense muscles, clad in a sports bra and boxing shorts; the lack of attire made it impossible to hide the sudden tension and stiffness embedded in your lean muscles, a tell tale sign of distress. As a creature of observation and analytics, the Squad Leader could sense your discomfort as if it was written across your forehead.

The brunette watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead and yell in frustration, turning towards her direction and moving to land a kick at her head.

Unfazed and in possession of sharp reflexes, Hange took a step back, only to watch as you twisted mid-air and landed a 360 Crescent kick to the dummy-shaped bag, which broke open on impact under the force of the blow. Sand poured out of its opening and spilled onto the ground in a steady stream that grew less heavy as the seconds passed.

“I’ll have to admit, you are getting better, but (Y/N), don’t get your hopes up,” Hange cautioned. “The problem does not reside in your muscles. No matter how well you learn to fight like you used to, Annie crushed your ribs and threw you to the ground: it's your lungs that will never recover. You can’t come with us to Shiganshina tomorrow like this.”

Hunched over with hands on your knees, you regained a regular breathing pattern and began to feel the explosive pain in your chest. Airways blocked, you began coughing, willing the oxygen to enter your body.

“Let me humor myself, Hange-san. If I don’t try, I might go insane.”

It was almost tragic that such a young soldier was out of commission; you were full of promise, rivalling Mikasa in skill. Hange knew you were itching to do what you trained for your whole life: Coming to Shiganshina and putting it all on the line had always been your number one goal. You didn’t want to be left behind again, to die bitter and alone without the only people you cared about.

“Regardless, (Y/N), you’re stalling,” Hange smoothly shifted the topic of conversation back to what brought her to you in the first place. “He still has that power over you, huh?”

"It'll pass eventually," you sighed, hoping the words were true.

You bowed towards the tall female. She smiled in return, shaking her head softly.

Whilst pacing away, said person stopped you once more.

“(Y/N). For what it’s worth, I stand by what I said before. Don’t look so nervous, okay?”

Her words replayed in your head, a haunting ghost of the not-so-long ago past. Time was strange, that way. It seemed like everything happened yesterday yet in another lifetime, all at once. “He loves you, more than he’s ever loved anyone. Surely you know that.”

Stupid, you thought, how I might have believed it once.

As you made your way down the hall, numbness crept into your body once again. You were too proud to admit you were afraid, especially with the Section Commander’s radiating sympathy, but everyone knew the once friendly dynamic between you and the Captain transformed into one more distant and cold. With each step towards the door, you felt the icy chill grow and that fact alone shook you to the core.

But it didn’t matter, seeing as Levi was of superior authority. There was no way around it.

Your hand shook as it raised to knock.

~~~~~~

“Name and business,” Levi spoke, voice muffled by the closed door.

“It’s (Y/N), sir. I was hoping to speak with you.”

There was a pause, and in that time you considered the option of fleeing back to your room and retreating back to a life of emotional safety, normality. It wasn’t too late to forget.

It had been a week since you spoke to Mikasa on the rooftop, after realizing the deep shit your heart decided to put you in. You didn’t think Levi would notice the distracted nature of your behavior-- tried to make it as subtle as possible whilst you figured out what you felt for him.

But before you could explore other options, Levi muttered a stern “enter.” You knew with the first expedition back to Shiganshina tomorrow, and the prospect of death closer than it has ever been on a mission, it was now or never.

The room was dim, small, warm, and thick with building tension. Shadows danced across the Captain’s face, sharp features lit by an orange flame. Only candlelight, sourced at his desk, assisted your adjusting eyes.

Your nose was hit with the smell of tea and cleaning products upon entry. This fact made you smile despite your bundling nervous energy. It was a familiar place, filled with memories of late night conversations (granted, of mostly you speaking and him listening), witnessed only by the large piles of paperwork. It started here and resulted in a natural, growing fondness kept secret to all except you two and the moon looking in from the window.

This man was your squad leader, your commander, your trusted comrade. There was no need to be afraid-- Not unless of course, you held the potential to shatter such damn a delicate relationship.

And you did.

Was it worth it?

Your gaze gravitated towards the center of the room where the Lance Corporal sat. And in that instant, your smile evaporated instantly. He placed his pen down, gracefully resting his cheek on his fist and lazily tossing the raven locks out of his eyes-- they landed on you, piercing yet drowsy and indifferent upon first glance. He was beautiful, as always. The allure was nearly sickening; unfair to the rest of the world.

Looking closer, however, he was anything but relaxed. The observant eye could see his countenance stirred something different. He seemed sharp and focused, ready to dart out and wrap himself around your heart, squeezing tighter with every breath you took. And you felt it-- the heart palpitations, which got worse at the sight of him.

He seemed… different. Dangerous, like a storm stirring in the distance, and the inevitable downpour that comes with it. The dark circles under his eyes told tales about the insomnia; a fresh cup of caffeinated black tea even rested on his left, steam rising out of it. And whilst attraction was undeniable, your concern always came first.

Levi was never quite good at getting proper rest before a mission.

“(Y/N),” The word was breathy, yet his voice was rough.

You shuffled in your spot, your name on his tongue making your stomach churn with desire.

Levi seemed to pick up on your affliction, getting out of his chair and gliding towards you. Everything happened fast and slow all at once, starting off with a momentaneous rush of air and the collision of your back with the office wall. A small shriek filled the air, out of place against the silence; was that your voice? The pain should’ve been there, but it wasn’t.

Then the seconds dragged out. Levi was a new person, setting your skin aflame as he gripped your wrists and pinned them against the wall. His lips brushed your eartips, which turned red the instant the raven’s breath fanned over them. This normally reserved, disciplined man unleashed something you had never seen before.

“Finally ready to talk to me about why you’ve been acting so strange, brat?” he whispered.

This wasn’t supposed to be so dirty. He was angry, but the mood was established in layers: something more sinister existed beneath.

The scent of fresh pine filled your nostrils until your brain went foggy. Levi was close--so close, and with the fact that you’ve been avoiding him mixed in with the fact that you missed him for it, all bets were off: there was no stopping the words that came out of your mouth next.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you whispered back, looking him dead in the eyes, no fear this time.

His grip on your wrist slackened.

“Hm?”

You took in a deep breath, ready to leave it all on the line, and spoke.

“I like you a lot, sir. And not in a comradery type of way. I-I just thought I’d tell you before, you know, we leave tomorrow.” Your gaze found the floor again, too timid for your own good. But the statement was said, and it was finite; there was no turning away from it.

The Captain’s eyes went wide and gleamed brightly at you. His chest felt lighter and as he looked down at you in speechless awe, staring at anything but his face in your adorable embarrassment, he realized exactly why your absent look irked him those days ago. Why your lack of enthusiasm and lighthearted-ness gave him a strange sense of frustration.

Levi never felt more awake, more hyper aware of his surroundings.

The feeling of your chest pressed against him, the heat of those rosy cheeks, the pounding within his ribcage, the moon hitting your pretty face. With your figure in his arms, after the blissful seconds passed, everything felt, for once, okay.

Until it wasn’t.

Gaining the courage to look back up at him, you all but tore apart at the scowl on his face as demons flitted through his beautiful brain and polluted the image of happiness. Levi grew more indignant by the second, all but throwing your arms he held back at your sides like they were poison to the touch.

Tears pooled in your eyes as the soft expression you didn’t get to see turned sour, disgusted-- the Captain’s lips curling into a snarl as he imagined what he could lose if he opened up his heart for this girl in front of him to take. The risk and pain of falling for someone, in the world the two of you lived in. And all the stoic man could think was how he allowed this charade to come so far.

No, he wouldn't allow it.

“Get out, (L/N)” he commanded, harsh and unforgiving.

You were trembling, body feeling detached from reality as it moved, convincing itself that it was simply a nightmare. Levi’s cruel demeanor all but shattered you as you looked wide-eyed and his anger grew, the short man pacing behind his desk and bringing a hand over his face. His free one crumpled into a fist, knuckles turning white as he slammed it on the wood, the loud bang making you jump; the fear, grief, confusion coming all at once until it choked you and your vision spotted black.

“I said GET OUT!”

The room stilled and Levi looked up to face you cowering near the door, a single tear rolling down your cheek. He stilled at the sight, the weight of his words dawning upon him.

“I-I’m sorry,” you gasped before racing out of the room.

Had you looked back, you would’ve seen Levi’s outstretched hand betraying his body, desperately reaching out for you, gray eyes filled with pain.

But you knew now you’d never be dumb enough to spare him that second glance-- and maybe that was the right call, seeing as his feet moved in the direction you left, only to shut the door left askew in your wake.

~~~

The Captain’s gaze was on you more than necessary, but it was clear the two of you had the same thought: You focused everything into this discussion, melting into the emotionally-detached soldier your duty commanded, just like Levi did. His words had no ulterior motive, no deeper meaning. They were monotonous and empty.

Or so you thought.

Levi stood up the second you came in, but your gaze fell to the ground in submission.

“Hange said you needed to see me, Captain?” your voice was small and weak; you kicked yourself for it. How pathetic.

“Damn you...”

The man said nothing more, brushing his fingers along your cheekbones and you everything hit you like whiplash, the memories. Levi ran them along your face, down to your chin to lift it gently, so that for once you’d let your eyes meet instead of looking at the ground like a coward.

When they did the man’s breath hitched in his throat, because although your (eye color) orbs were no longer as vibrant, they were still beautiful and entrancing; why hadn’t he ever appreciated them before?

"I missed you, brat," he spoke firmly.

You felt a churn in your abdomen as you watched his eyes study the details of your face and take in every feature, committing it to memory painfully slow. You were paralyzed, his face inches away from yours and forcing buried emotions to resurface as months of restraint came undone. He didn’t speak, holding you delicately after not being this close for far too long and discerning what he’s been missing.

“Um, Captain? What are you...?"

You bit your lip, feeling puzzled and confused as you remembered the hate in Levi's orbs the last time you saw him like this.

All you could see now was how quickly his emotions shifted from serenity to fury that fateful night, and as you recollected the way Levi lashed out, all chaos and fury, he retracted his hand.

And you flinched away.

The Captain froze.

“Don’t-- don’t fucking do that,” he growled, his urgency startling. “I would never hurt you, (Y/N).”

Your eyebrows furrowed, all inhibition thrown out the window the second Levi’s countenance flashed with hurt at your response to his touch. You let your fear go and emotions free at the irony of the raven’s statement. Your mind went into overdrive, recounting every instance you wanted to give up and leave, drown in yourself, give up on finding purpose in the aftermath of rejection and Squad Levi’s death and your permanent injury changing your way of life. Things you faced alone, because instead of rekindling any semblance of a relationship, Levi tossed everything away and berated you for feeling.

The man who resided here cut your heart expertisely like the countless swords he wielded then disposed. He did not have the right to look at you so kindly; did not have to right to fan the flames of false hope. But here he was, procrastinating until the very last day to take initiative regarding those actions.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered, forgetting your composure.

“I’d advise you not to speak in riddles,” Levi spoke in a low and even voice, no real malice as he addressed you and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You took a deep breath and fought to remain calm, grabbing Levi's wrist to keep him from touching you.

“Please don’t toy with me, or mock my feelings like this. Why did you call me here? You made it plenty clear how you feel about me, Levi. What else is there to say?" you begged, the lack of closure driving you insane.

This was the first time you used his name, an unprecedented amount of spite and pain expressed through it, because you wanted Levi to remember this moment. It was over: that time of feeling sorry and ashamed of yourself for being nothing other than human. The remorse was gone, and the heartache was fleeting.

“Tell me, dammit!”

His was overflowing.

“You want to know how I really feel about you, (Y/N)!?” the Captain shouted, voice rising because for a man who relied on impulse and action on the battlefield it was fucking frustrating, watching the woman in front of him live this way for the simple reason that he was not good with words. "The thoughts that go through my head when you can't even bear to look at me?!"

"No, that's not what I asked. I already know that you don't--"

"--Fuck this."

Relying on instinct to guide him, Levi leaned forward and kissed you.

The second his lips met yours, you melted on the spot, knees giving out beneath you. Tongue sliding into your mouth, Levi simultaneously lifted you into the air, feeling lightheaded as you moaned into him, eagerly returning the kiss. His hands were everywhere, grasping at your waist, clutching the back of your head, running down your thighs. You were in such a state of euphoria that nothing else existed.

Your own digits threaded through Levi’s raven locks and pulled needily, emitting a growl from his throat as he bit down on your lower lip. He reveled in the feeling of your legs around his waist as your soft lips worked against his own, hungry and relentless. The kiss was passionate and you’d imagined it a million times over, but this-- Levi successfully ruined you for any other man.

The need for oxygen pulled you apart, Levi’s strong arms keeping you in the air as his eyes remained shut; he pecked your lips once, then twice, savoring the moment until it mournfully passed.

He was hesitant to break the silence, but you deserved it. You waited long enough to hear the truth, and he knew his time was running out; you weren’t going to wait for him forever.

“(Y/N)...” he began to speak, forehead resting on yours as he panted softly to catch his breath. “I dreamt of you last night. I have been for days.”

“Levi--”

“--Just listen,” he interrupted, unable to stop himself from kissing you softly once more. “Neither of us are running away this time.”

You fell silent as the man let you down, pulling you into his solid chest as you buried your face in his shirt, patiently listening. His calm heartbeat thrummed soothingly in your ears like a metronome.

“Isabel, Farlan, Oluo, Petra, Gunther, Eld. They all knew that what they meant to me. And I them."

One of the only things that made it easier to say goodbye, you thought with a bittersweet pang in your chest.

"With us, it's different. I died in every dream, (Y/N). Every one. And in every single one, you lived on believing I never loved you. Call me selfish, but I...”

You pulled away from the stoic man, searching his gaze as he trailed off. Shyly, you interlaced your fingers, his larger hand enveloping yours and you prayed to whoever was listening upstairs that all of this was real.

“I just can't leave until you understand...”

He clutched you impossibly tighter, eyes squeezing shut.

"...that you, are everything."

~~~ Extended Ending ~~~

A soft hum filled the air, the tune dreamy and sweet as you repeated the melody once again. You smiled warmly as hands wound around your waist, pulling you closer to a toned and shirtless Captain Levi, silken sheets tossed haphazardly on top of the two of you. His breath sent goosebumps on your neck as he kissed your shoulder gently, warmth deliciously intoxicating.

Giggling now, you turned around to face him, the man’s onyx hair ticking you softly. You captured your lips in his with one smooth movement and snuggled closer, taking in the small slice of heaven that was home in his arms, legs tangled together. Feeling unbelievably content, like your heart might burst, you leaned forward and rubbed your nose against Levi's.

Although he wasn't smiling, the look he was giving you revealed his own sensation of happiness.

“I never thought you’d be the cuddling type,” you remarked devilishly, scrunching up your nose as you teased him.

Though your tone was lighthearted, you were painfully aware that the moment was ending. You internally cursed the sun as it started to set, orange light peeking in through the window shades to signal the coming of night. Levi said nothing, looking deeply into your eyes, and like always, it felt as if he could read the contents of your soul.

But it wasn’t vulnerability you felt: on the contrary, you knew you would never find as safe a place as here. With him. Finally.

“Levi...” you swallowed, humor all but gone. “Now you have to come home.”

To emphasize your point you sat up on the bed, legs tucked neatly underneath you as you stared imperatively at your lover.

“Mhm. We’ve wasted enough time,” he agreed, taking you by the wrist to pull you back on top of him, to bask in this personal paradise if only for another minute.

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