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cheelduh · 3 years

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How to Not Kill a Ginger (High School Au!)

Part 5 to the series hehehe

Parts: 1 2 3 4

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Synopsis: Childe’s stomach stirs when you take care of him, and he’s not sure if it’s because of his major crush on you or just plain old diarrhea.

Warnings: Swearing. Graphic descriptions involving the true idiocy of teenage boys.

Words: Abt 2.6k

Note: Sorry I sort of half assed this. I have big ideas for the next part tho ✨😮‍💨

If there's one thing you're sure of, it's that Teucer knows how to throw one hell of a tantrum.

Him and his brother, Anthon, under your watch, manage to get into a petty squabble that's been airing for the last fifteen minutes. You've done everything, from offering candy to promising an extra hour on the switch, but your efforts do not bear fruit.

What did you tell Childe again? Oh yeah, that babysitting kids was a breeze. Apparently it's not a breeze. Maybe something more like a shart. A chunky, messy one at that.

"Listen dude," You reason to Anthon, the oldest of the bunch gently. "Where did you hide his toy?"

Anthon sticks a tongue out at you, and you nearly cry at the intensity of the insult. "Not telling."

Your patience runs thin.

"C'mon Anthon," Tonia lectures from her chair on the table like the godsend she is. "Just give him his toy back. You're being so annoying." She's taking the words right out of your mouth.

"Not until he apologizes!" Anthon crosses his arms, huffing. "He ate my cheese string!"

"There are more cheese strings!" You exclaim, opening the fridge to prove your point. "I'm sure Teucer's sorry for taking yours. Just pick another one."

"But it's not the same! He took the last cheddar and mozzarella one, now there are only mozzarella ones left." He speaks in between Teucer's wails. You wonder if this is a daily occurrence.

Tonia sighs, gets up from her chair, and hands the eldest her cheese string. "Just take this and give him his toy back."

Almost immediately, Anthon reaches a hand behind the tv table and pulls out the miniature Mr. Cyclops, then throws it point blank at Teucer's feet.

Teucer wails louder.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, shoulders sagging under the stress of being a temporary teenage mother.

Then you take a deep breathe, voice booming over Teucer's cries, Anthon's grumbling, and the clicking of Tonia's tongue. "Let's make a cake!"

Everything in the room stills. Even Teucer's loud cries comes to a halt, and he inhales so sharply that the streak of snot over his lip goes right back into its origin.

You wince inadvertently.

"Poggers!" Anthon cheers, and his siblings join in, laughing and clapping in excitement.

Tonia's eyes widen in confusion when she briefly pauses from her rally. "Wait a minute. What are we celebrating? We can't bake a cake for no reason! It won't taste nearly as good."

Everyone stops to ponder.

Then you snap your fingers in realization, and the kids huddle around you. "How about a 'get well better' cake for your big brother?"

They erupt in cheers again, but you shush them gently, wink an eye for extra measure. "We have to be quiet! He won't get better if we wake him."

The three nod in understanding and begin shushing each other, failing to conceal their giggles.

As you watch them making their way into the kitchen, bounce in their steps, you can't stop the warm smile that reaches your eyes.

That smile soon becomes a frown of horror when Anthon cracks an egg over Tonia's head.

The cake is not half as bad as you thought it would be initially. Between mixing the ingredients and ceasing the kids minus Tonia from being menaces to society, you were able to find middle ground.

Eventually Anthon found interest in finding ways to lick the batter whenever you turned around, and Teucer found comfort in your left leg, latching onto it as if it were a life line.

Just like how Venti latches onto his stupid little bottle of wine disguised as a water bottle. Seriously, you’ve never talked to him sober, and at this point are afraid of what’s he’s like lucid.

Tonia had been the only one taking things seriously for the most part, except for the sprinkles-to-icing ratio. She drowned the entire cake in sprinkles, the mere sight adding on the ghost of an ache in your teeth.

It looks like twilight sparkles took a fat dump on it.

"Okay besties," You inwardly curse yourself for giving into Gen-Z vocabulary as you brush your hands on the apron. "I think we've done a pretty decent job."

"It looks so pretty!" Tonia grins widely, eyeing the edible pearls she strategically placed. She quickly strikes down a finger Anthon tried to poke into the icing, with the accuracy of a true warrior.

You shudder at the thought of Childe teaching her how to stab someone with safety scissors.

"Can we add candles?" Teucer asks, but Tonia clicks her tongue in distaste.

"It's not a birthday cake." She crosses her arms judgementally. The power in her glare reminds you of La Signora, strangely enough.

You ruffle his copper coloured locks anyways, and his grip on your thigh tightens. "We can add candles if you want Teucer."

He nods his head and snuggles deeper into the side of your leg. Your heart warms up considerably.

After the candles are poked in, you try to shrug him off. "C'mon dude, just for five minutes. You don't want me to drop the cake before your brother can get a bite do you?"

Reluctantly, he obliges, and runs off to help Tonia collect utensils to take up to Childe's room.

Anthon's on door duty, kicking away any toys that serve as obstacles in your way like a professional soccer player.

Once you four make it up the stairs in front of the designated room, Anthon doesn't bother knocking. He barges in like he owns the place, chin up high and a signature smirk on his face that he probably learnt from his older brother.

Childe fumbles awake, kicking the air whilst in shock by the chaotic sound of the door hitting the wall and Teucer screaming "Happy Birthday!" at the top of his miniature sized lungs as he runs in to plop right on top of his older brother.

His bewildered expression soon turns into something of a loving smile as he begins to process what is happening, eyes lighting up despite the deep bags that frame them.

Tonia places the plates on his side table, right next to the empty soup bowl you placed there earlier. She climbs up onto the bed as well to join in on the hug.

Anthon approaches at last, hands in his pockets as he coolly acknowledges his older brother. Instead of a bone-crushing hug like the other two are indulging in, his opts for a fist bump that Childe happily reciprocates.

Then finally, between the shield that are his siblings, his cerulean eyes land on your near the doorway, then trail down to the cake in your oven-mittened hands. He averts his gaze back to your own, and grins so wide his cheeks start to throb.

"Big brother! We made you cake." Teucer moves his head from his chest to face him. "So you can get better."

Childe's laughs ring in your ears, but you don't shy away from the sound. It's a pleasant, something that you wish to hear more of in the near future. Sure enough he laughs a lot at school, but the genuineness of it at home, surrounded by his siblings, stirs something deep within you.

"How thoughtful of you." He ruffles his hair, then his eyes widen as he ushers the two off of him. "You guys can't be near me! I don't want you to fall ill as well."

"But-but how will we feed you the cake without getting close to you?" Tonia frowns, and her two brothers nod in unison.

You chuckle lightly, approaching the bed with the cake in your hands. "I'm sure he has enough strength to feed himself. The hugs and kisses surely must've energized him."

To be honest, Childe's all green in the face and the last thing on his mind would be to indulge in the cake. You understand the feeling all to well. With his nose clogged up, throat all sore, there's no way he'll stomach it. It took a lot of nagging on your part to get him to finish the soup earlier as well.

He blows the candles anyways, clapping along his siblings and letting Tonia drop a fat chunk of the golden cake onto his plate. You find it endearing, regrettably so. His dedication to keeping their dreams is admirable in more ways than you can count.

This is the same guy that wears meme shirts to school, topped off with douchey sunglasses to give him a pristine vibe. The same guy that punches holes in walls like a Kyle. The very boy that flexes his toned biceps in-front of you during lunch time, successfully ruining your appetite.

"Wait a minute..." Childe inspects the cake closely, narrowing in on the candles. "Why is there an eleven?"

Teucer scratches his neck sheepishly. "Those were the only candles we had left."

After another short-lived laugh, Childe manages a bite as everyone stares in expectation, the sound of a tight crunch enveloping the room, making you grimace in secret. If Childe feels like puking out his guts right now, he's doing a hell of a job hiding it from his darling siblings.

You're glad nobody forces you to take a bite, or it would've been a double homicide right then and there.

Soon enough, one by one the children file out of the room, satisfied with their visit. The reality is that they don't want to miss an episode of backyardigans.

Once they leave, you approach him with a napkin. He gets the gist, spitting out the remnants of the cake you slaved over for about two hours.

"Colour me impressed." You snort, moving the cake aside so you can take a seat on the open space next to him. "How're you feeling?"

"Amazing." He exclaims, eyes red like a crackhead's, nose runny, with goosebumps kissing his pale skin. He sure does look...amazing.

"Cool." You say, abruptly getting up. "I'm gonna vibe with the kid—"

His hand shoots out from underneath the blanket, clammy palms wrapping around your wrist to keep you locked in place. You gulp in anticipation.

"You kissed me." Childe reminds you, eyes twinkling in mischief, a vicious grin plastered over his stupidly handsome face.

You try not to choke on your words. "You have circumstantial evidence at most." No attempts are utilized to pull away from him.

He raises a teasing brow, and you give in because the tension is thick. Thicker than the tension between Albedo and Kaeya when the latter shamelessly unzips his front to show more of his biddies. You have no idea why he hasn’t been dress coded yet.

"Fine." You snap out of your impure thoughts, and huff out, frustrated all over. "I kissed you on the cheek."

"Still a kiss though."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. Also, cute nails." He points out, hand moving down to grasp your fingers. The act is intimate, his caress gentle and caring. Despite his brash, violent personality, he shows you a completely different side to him that hatches butterflies in your stomach.

"Thanks." You show off the bright jewels on your index. "You have a real nail technician in the house."

Tonia has some serious talent.

When he taps one of the jewels, you slap his hand away. "Careful there dude. These cost me a fortune."

His chuckles die down and he smiles again, but this time apologetically. "They didn't trouble you too much did they? I know they can be loud."

"I like loud." You answer him truthfully. "They're fun to be around. Not nearly as chaotic as you."

He blinks in mock offence, eyes narrowing shrewdly. "You come into my house, talk to my siblings, and have the nerve to insult me? Right after taking advantage of me?"

"If you don't shut up, I'll also have the nerve to rip you a new one." You reply dryly with the innocent curl of your lips.

"Bet."

You're about to lunge at him and scream a string of obscenities that no one has ever heard of before, but the Archons are listening and you don't want his siblings to grow up without someone to look up to. Wait a minute—scratch that. You'd be doing them a favour if you wiped his existence right here and now.

You have a fragile heart though. So you sigh, and grab a fistful of sheets in both hands instead.

Childe's grin turns into a petrified scowl.

"Oh no," He pleads, weakly fighting you back. "Have mercy! Please!"

You have loads of mercy. Just not enough for him.

When you have him wrapped in a successful bundle, Childe can’t help but beam, laying limp in his confines.

“What are you smiling about?” You inquire, pulling out the medicine from his box, pausing momentarily in shock. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me you’re into these things you freak.” Head snaps up so fast you nearly suffer from whiplash.

He’s about to answer you but his words turn into a fit of shallow coughs.

“I’m into whatever you’re into.” Childe’s shrug is nonchalant. “Even if that means I have to be tied up. Kinky by the way.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you hold the spoon up. The dark reddish medicine swirls in deep hues.

“Shut up and open your mouth.”

“Girlie, I don’t think you understand how contradicting that statement is.”

You momentarily wonder if it’s too late to abort yourself.

—

Childe awakens at the crack ass of night, sweat slick, sticky all over, tousled hair sticking to his forehead. He’s a panting mess, eyes darting around the dark room, inhaling, exhaling, mind in a haze from the fever. Gaining somewhat of a grip on reality, he fumbles around to turn on his lamp, throat parched and in need of water.

When he manages to find the switch, he recoils at the brightness, adjusting to the sudden change in his vision. On his side table, there’s a bologna sandwich tucked safely in plastic wrap, a glass of room temperature water, and a bottle of painkillers.

His eyes disregard most of the things, finding interest in the bright pink sticky note next to the painkillers. Unable to ignore the dryness of his throat and the pounding of his head, he quickly gulps a pill down with most of the water, instantly feeling the relief of hydration.

Then, he pounces on the note, giddiness overtaking him despite the pang in his muscles, and the general feeling of absolute shit.

I had to leave. Don’t worry about your siblings, they’re all tucked in and fine. Except for Anthon maybe. Apparently he’s mildly lactose intolerant and thought it was a good idea to overdose on chocolate milk when I was busy with Teucer. Anyways, get better soon stupid.

— Y/N

He safely tucks the note under his pillow, edges of his lips turned upwards, warmth flooding his veins when he takes another look around his surroundings.

The room itself is cleaned, floor cleared from the initial clutter and the cool shiny collector’s knives he buys off of Amazon safely hung over the wall, not littered on his desk like they usually are.

The homework he was supposed do, but most likely wouldn’t, is already completed, stacked neatly atop each other.

Childe swears his heart bursts in his chest, exploding into tiny particles that overheat his entire body.

There’s no way in hell a few days worth of homework is gonna bring his failing mark up, but then again it’s the thought that counts.

While the sandwich is catered to his nausea, bland and plain for easy digestion, an easy fill, it’s the best meal he’s ever had in his life.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe #childe x reader #fanfic #genshin oneshot #genshin tartagalia #kaeya alberich #tartagila #venti genshin impact #albedo #teucer #genshin archon #tartagalia x reader #tartagalia genshin impact

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ancientwastedlores · 4 years

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The Support System (Ch: 4)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Find this chapter on AO3 here. Links to the first three chapters are below. Let me know if you want to be tagged when I post new chapters, and also my ask is open for fic requests :) I might take some time to get to them, but I WILL get to them!

AO3: The Support System Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter: 4/? Warnings: N/A Audience: general.

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CHAPTER 4:

The next morning, you wake up with Loki’s arm and leg draped over you. You get out from under it and peer at the TV. It’s paused on the fourth episode. Maybe Loki saw you had fallen asleep, or maybe it was the other way around... you don’t remember. You leave him to sleep and go to brush your teeth, amazed at how completely normal you’re treating this to be.

For whatever reason, you’ve seen Tony Stark get drunk, but never seen him hungover. The man is a miracle worker. Bruce is holding his head in his hand, and no one else wants to talk, but Tony is practically bouncing off the walls. He must have 15 cups of coffee in him, you think to yourself.

You sit down at the table with the Avengers, who all lift their heads to look at you.

‘What?’ you ask. ‘It’s your turn to make the breakfast, didn’t you remember?’ Tony asked.

You shoot up, having completely forgotten that the cook doesn’t come in on weekends and the responsibility for breakfast and dinner falls on one Avenger a week.

‘Sorry sorry sorry, I’ll get right to it, give me a few minutes’. ‘No worries, we’re still working on our coffees. We haven’t been up long’ Nat reassures you.

You smile at her and then run frantically run get your ingredients together.

‘Good morning’ Thor walks in, all smiles. Everyone else groans at the noise. Another man you’ve never seen hungover, but it would make sense for a god, wouldn’t it?

Bruce turns to look at Thor, then narrows his eyes. ‘Did I… Did I cry last night?’

‘Yeah, you cried because that child over there…’ Tony points at you, ‘lifted Thor’s hammer’ ‘I’m not a child, I’m 22 years old’ you protest. ‘Yeah, okay kid’ Tony says. ‘Hello’ Loki greets and another round of groans greet him.

You quickly jump to defend that to him, ‘They’re just terribly hungover, Loki’.

He smiles at you and walks over. ‘Can I help you?’ ‘You actually can. Tell me you know how to make poached eggs?’ ‘I wish I could’ ‘Can you toss some tomatoes around in a pan?’ ‘Never done that before, I could try?’ ‘Can you slice the bread?’ ‘Yes, that I can do for you’.

You hand him a large bread knife and a loaf of uncut brown bread, and instruct him to cut the slices thick.

Tony’s eyes widen at you handing Loki a knife that large, but says nothing. You notice, and badly wish to make a show of it, but decide not to.

You turn to the stove to make your poached eggs, while the crust of the bread cracking under the knife act as music to your ears. You don’t cook much, but when you do, you love to smell and touch and hear everything. Loki cuts the slices as instructed, and after toasting them, and places them all on plates, ready for you to lay the eggs on them. You add tomatoes and mashed potatoes to the plate as well, and wash your hands quickly to cut some fruit.

Loki leans over as you cut an apple. ‘Can I show you something?’ he asks. You look up from your task without stopping it, ‘Of course’

He creates five clones of himself, which each take two plates and walk to set them down on the dining table. You laugh. ‘That’s amazing!’

Everyone else is sceptical, but hearing your laughter, they stay put. They still glare at all the Lokis setting their plates of food down, but the clones promptly vanish after the task.

‘You could cook us an entire meal and not lift a damn finger’ you tell Loki.

He looks genuinely glad you enjoyed the show. He takes the one remaining plate that’s yours and waits for you to bring the fruits over. You finish up, wash your hands again, and sit at the dining table with the rest. You notice Loki has shifted from his usual seat to one right across from you. You steal glances at him while you eat, recounting the previous night when you watched Doctor Who together. However, it’s the episode you keep recounting, not actually sitting next to Loki watching it.

‘What plans today?’ you hear Tony ask. ‘Pep and I are going down to Clint’s, he said he needs help fixing up some farm equipment’. ‘Can Bruce and I join?’ Natasha asks, to which Tony says yes.

Everyone else has plans outside; Rhodey has a camping trip planned with his friends, since it’s a three-day weekend. Vision and Wanda are moving out of the tower to a nearby apartment, and want to set that up, and Thor wants to take Jane to Asgard.

After everyone has ticked off their plans, they ask you what you plan to do. Normally, you join in on whatever Tony is doing, other times you meet with your friends from back in S.H.I.E.L.D, but you see that Loki has no plans, and no one has included him in theirs either. You look across and notice him picking at his food, trying to not think about it.

‘Oh, I’m staying in the Tower with Loki and marathoning Doctor Who again’ you say.

You feel Tony’s gaze burn into you, while the others silently continue to eat.

‘Have fun’ you hear Bruce say. It sounds forced. ‘You too’ you still say.

You walk into the lab to pick up a few papers and see Bruce and Tony.

‘Aren’t you guys leaving?’ ‘Yeah, in a second, we just needed to put the stone back. Can’t leave it open for an entire weekend’ Tony says. ‘Hm, fair enough’ you go to your table and pick up another set of papers Strange sent over. He certainly has you doing a lot of reading!

‘Do you want one of us to stay back?’ Tony asks. ‘Whatever for?’ ‘You KNOW what for, you can’t be alone with him in the Tower’. ‘I’m NOT alone, the tower is full of security and staff... although why the Avengers Tower needs security, I don't know'. ‘You know what I mean’. ‘No, I really don’t’ you’re getting a little annoyed now. ‘Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have preferred ONE person being on your side vouching for you, being there for you, when you thought the worst of yourself a few years ago?’

Silence.

‘Well, why does it have to be you?’ Tony asks.

‘Because... it’s no one else’ you sigh. ‘Because I’ve been here for a whole year, he has been here longer, and in all that time, it’s been no one else. And I know what that’s like. YOU know what it’s like, how can you let anyone feel that way when you personally know how terrible it feels?’

‘He just wants you to be safe’ Bruce says. ‘I know’ you place your hand on Tony’s shoulder. ‘Tony, the burden of the world doesn’t fall upon you. You don’t have to be responsible for every single thing’.

He looks at you, his face inscrutable. He finally shrugs and pulls you into a hug. ‘You be safe, okay? If there’s literally anything, you call me. I don’t care if it’s 4 AM and you’re dead, you call me’.

You laugh. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, assuming the after world has good phone reception’.

‘If you’re carrying the phones I issued, they'll work anywhere’ he lets go and winks at you. ‘Now get outta here, go watch your time travel show’.

You walk into your room, expecting Loki to already be waiting there with the remote in hand, but he isn’t. You wonder if he’s playing a prank on you and call out his name. Setting the papers down, you look behind the curtains, open up your closet, and check the washroom. Nothing.

Where is he?

Figuring he’ll appear when he wants to, you start on the pages Strange sent you.

About an hour later, the door to your room opens. You look up see it’s Loki.

‘Hey, where have you been!?’ ‘Where have I been!? Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for an hour’ he says. ‘Aren’t we watching it here?’ ‘No, I told you, since we’re alone, I thought we’d watch it in Stark’s theatre’.

Oh right. Stark also has a theatre in the residential wing for movie nights. He mostly screens horror films, much to your annoyance, so you rarely ever go there. But you never considered watching your favourite TV shows on there.

‘That’s an amazing idea, why did I never think of that!?’ you push your notes and papers aside and get up. ‘I also got the staff to get us some traditional movie snacks’ he informs you.

You squeal and clutch his wrist, and pull him out the room as you do so before letting go quickly. You don’t know it, but you just sent tingles up and down his body, and he is now smiling the biggest smile walking behind you.

You sit at the back of the theatre, the seats next to yours and his full of snacks. Popcorn, cookies, nachos, chips, even hot dogs. You wonder how the conversation went between Loki and the staff member he asked to fetch all of this on a Saturday for just two people.

The marathon begins.

Tuesday morning, the rest of the Avengers come in to work. You’re already awake, and decide to greet them all at the reception.

Rhodey trudges in first with his rucksack, stinking to high heaven. You gasp and try to push him away as he tries to hug you. ‘You took Stark’s jet, it has a freaking shower, Rhodes!’ ‘I thought it would be more fun to hug you like this, what’s wrong, don’t you like it?’ he asks innocently. ‘Shut up, go take a shower, oh my god my eyes are burning’.

He laughs and drags his rucksack along.

Tony and company come next, carrying their bags. Clint is on the phone, most probably with his wife. You greet them, and Tony asks how your weekend was.

‘Excellent, I may have put on a little weight with all the snacks I ate, so I have to work extra hard this week’ you joke. Natasha hugs you, and lovingly pokes your stomach. ‘You’re back on training right after breakfast'. ‘Yes ma’am’ you give her a small salute.

The rest of the company moves along and Bruce stays back. ‘Are you good? Tony was worried’.

‘Yeah, I had a great time. We literally just watched the show and ate’. ‘Okay…’ Bruce sighs from relief. ‘Good to hear. I’ll see you in the lab’.

Thor comes in next. You greet him too, and he wordlessly walks up to you and envelopes you in a giant hug.

‘What’s happening’ you ask. ‘Heimdall saw you’. ‘That’s the watcher dude?’ He laughs, still holding you. ‘Yes, the watcher dude. The watcher dude says Loki hasn’t been this happy in ages, and I think you’re doing a good job’.

You weren’t trying to do anything, but you're glad to learn Loki is in fact enjoying your company. ‘It’s no trouble. He’s fun to spend time with, we enjoy a lot of the same things’. ‘Like what!?’

You wish you hadn’t said that, because what you’ve spent the weekend talking to Loki about is the Infinity Stones. Not the sentience, because you knew that would be a bit much, but certainly about its powers, the previous owners, the seventh that was destroyed by Adam Warlock, its place in the cosmos, and much, much more.

You can’t tell Thor this, of course, because it would be interpreted differently.

‘Just, you know. Time travel. And other planets. He told me about Asgard’. This wasn’t a lie. ‘That’s nice’ he smiles warmly at you. ‘Well, I have some work in Asgard, I only came to drop Jane off and thank you. Goodbye’. ‘Bye’ you say. You hear a thud, the Tower shakes, and Thor disappears.

Finally, Wanda and Vision walk in and greet you. You aren’t that close with them, but you're always nice to each other.

You go for breakfast, and things go on as usual.

There’s a week left for the extraction mission, and Tony informs you that he expects it to take about a week, five days if he were coming, but he isn’t, causing Natasha to roll her eyes.

A group of arms dealers are expected to be in New York next week. Your mission is to infiltrate the warehouse in Queens, where they are working. Tony has found out they will be getting a new shipment of weapons in a week, and bit by bit, your team is to break down their networks in Hong Kong and Dubai.

You’ve been on field assignments before, but never this long, nor this big. Nervousness isn’t even a word in your dictionary, you’ve been preparing for this so long, you feel like you could kill it in a single day. Tony senses your fire and has been “subtly” trying to direct that energy into training.

‘I know what you’re doing, I’ll be fine’ you protest. ‘I just don’t want you bouncing off the walls during the mission. I know how excited you get’.

Even Bruce wants you out of the lab after a point because you won’t stop talking and walking around, being a total distraction. Bored, and having trained and training new S.H.I.E.L.D recruits, you decide to see what Loki is up to.

You walk in on him reading in the living room.

The living room is huge, furnished in white with subtle gold embellishments. Tony considered asking every Avenger giving their personal touches here and there, and decided it wouldn't work, because Thor wanted red, Natasha wanted black, and Vision thought minimalism was a good idea, while Rhodey disagreed and asked for a water feature. So Tony listened to no one and just did what he wanted.

‘What are you reading?’ you ask, walking in.

Loki shows you the cover. American Gods.

‘Why are you reading that?’ ‘I think it’s amusing how the writer has painted Odin’.

You smile, remembering that in the story, Odin is a fallen god.

‘I leave in a week’ you say. ‘Yes, I know’ Loki says, without looking up from his book.

You wait for any sort of acknowledgement that he’ll miss you, or at least to be safe. When you get nothing, you shrug and sit down across from him.

‘I’m bored’. ‘Uhuh’. ‘Do you wanna fight me?’ you ask, quite casually. ‘What!?’

You grin at him. ‘I’m bored, and also excited about the mission, and I don’t know what to do with all this energy’. Not having sparred in ages himself, Loki puts his book aside and stands up. ‘Where?’ ‘Training room’.

#loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fanfic #marvel fan fiction #avengers fandom #tom hiddleston #twhiddleston #tom hiddlston x you #marvel fandom

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jastiss-blog · 6 years

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Trial by Fire Chapter 4 (Ignis x OC)

Hello guys! Decided to pick things up here as we are closing in on Episode Ignis (unfortunately? Fortunately? I’m not sure which).

Chapter 4 - Hunger. In which Ignis and Callie meal prep, get sassy in the kitchen together, and Ignis starts to have a crisis.

No warnings currently apply, SFW at this time.

[Previous Chapter] [AO3] (might have helped to have this the first time. I was tired. lol

Tagging @hypaalicious and @gudetamazing

At home, Callie was freaking out. Her apartment was in complete disarray, the stresses of training life not affording her much energy with which to clean. Something about Ignis screamed "neat-freak" and thus, she decided she should take the time to pick up before six o'clock. At further inspection, it would be a larger job than she initially thought.

Glancing at the clock, Callie noted that she had about three hours to get things situated before her visitor arrived. Surely that would be enough time...

The piles of dirty laundry strewn about the room laughed mockingly. Garbage from hastily eaten TV dinners and bags from fast food cackled. Perhaps she really did need to get more sleep, but the message was clear: it would be tight. Time to get to work.

Callie liked the apartment they had stationed her in. It wasn’t too big, which pleased her, as she was alone. The living room, dining room and kitchen were one large space, making it feel bigger than it was. Callie lamented her lack of cooking skills due to how upscale the kitchen was with its sparkly black countertops and fancy faucet. Oh well. Perhaps she could learn some day. Hell, if she and Ignis remained friends, maybe she could beg him to teach her.

Crownsguard initiate life left her with a large conundrum: even for a small apartment, her schedule left her with very little time to do anything beyond fall into bed each day. There were days that the exhaustion had been so great, she didn’t even eat before falling onto her couch fully clothed, finding herself deep in slumber within mere moments. Habits such as those led to her already trim physique to become borderline skeletal, a fact that Ignis apparently took great offense to, henceforth landing her in the position she was.

As such, she briefly stopped cleaning to put on an upbeat playlist on her phone for motivation before returning to flitting room to room, never tarrying long. The thought came to mind that she should likely stick to one area at a time, however, the nervous energy witnin her demanded movement. Life as a hunter had been singularly lonely, leaving her precious few she would deem a friend. She worried that Ignis would find her accommodations lackluster. What a funny thing to worry about, she chided herself. Friends don’t suddenly stop being friends over your housing situation. Yet, the worry remained, spurring her to clean faster.

With the restroom and living areas immaculate, Callie checked the clock and was startled to find it glaring 5:53 back at her. Ignis was nothing if not punctual, and the kitchen (the most important room for their planned activity, no less) was still not up to par. Rubbing her hand over her face in irritation, she cursed her lack of focus.

Six o'clock on the dot and there was a knock on her door. A mere few pieces of trash remained.

“Just a moment!” Callie called out. She took a detour at the trash bin before turning down the music and making for the door. When she reached to open it, she lamented not taking a shower instead of simply changing her clothes. It was too late to go back; she swung open the door with a smile.

She was briefly stunned into silence at the sight of the great tactician in the closest thing to casual clothing the suspected he ever wore: a simple white button up tucked into black slacks, sleeves rolled and cuffed at the elbows. A grocery bag adorned his right arm, the muscles flexing to compensate for the weight. Callie stared a moment longer than necessary, watching as Ignis gave her a self-conscious smile, prompting her to finally greet her guest.

“Ah, hi! Welcome!” she hailed, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter with a sweep of her right arm. “Please, come in!”

“Good evening, Callie,” he answered, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “It’s been ages.”

At that, Callie loosed a hearty laugh. She shut the door as he entered the living space, turning to face him with her hands planted on her hips.

“Years, Ignis,” she mock complained. “How could you? Not even a letter. Six save us.” The pair laughed freely, during which Callie noted Ignis’ easy mirth. Though it was true that she bared her soul to him over her family and ambitions, he had always been reserved, humor always on the wry side. Seeing him laugh prior to that moment was a true rarity. Ignis took a cursory glance about the space before making a beeline for the kitchen. He hefted the bag on the counter with the most counter space and that time, Holly tried her test to not be as obvious in her observation of his rippling muscle. It simply wasn’t polite to ogle a guest who had so graciously come to her home to assist her in getting her nutrition back on track. Again, Ignis smiled and she suddenly became aware of why he held so many titles; absolutely nothing escaped his sharp gaze. Sighing, she attempted to conceal her blush by rubbing her eyes, (mostly) feigning exhaustion.

“So, what’s on the menu tonight?” she asked, moving to join him in the kitchen. Though well-finished, the kitchen was petite, barely allowing space for the two of them to be present simultaneously. Callie approached from behind, leaning around Ignis' left shoulder, steadying herself with her right hand at his waist and left at his bicep that she could peer into the sack of groceries. His muscles contracted under her touch, a gentle gasp passed his lips and she drew back slightly, eyes apologetic.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” she laughed.

Ignis silently thanked the Astrals she assumed it was fear he felt. In truth, her touch set his body aflame, and he simply hadn’t been prepared for his extreme reaction. He was aware of his attraction to her, a bright pyre burning ever-present in the back of his mind, refusing to be dampened. Try though he may to be vigilant, the char was licking at him, threatening to rend all to ash.

"No worries," he answered as casually as possible. "I thought we might start simple: daggerquill breast and garulessa steak with saxham rice and vegetables. You can prepare a large quantity and store it in the containers I've brought and simply heat up a serving when you arrive home. If you’d like, I brought enough for us to enjoy together this evening, but I shan’t impose if you'd like to dine alone."

Callie rather enjoyed the implications behind "start,” and the offer to enjoy a meal together. "That... sounds amazing, actually. Of course, you’re welcome to stay. You’re going to all this trouble for me. Let me grab a notebook so that I can write all this down."

Ignis chuckled as he retrieved a small notebook from his breast pocket and opened it to the first page. "No need. I've taken the liberty of starting a recipe book for you. It has a few to start that shouldn't be too difficult, even considering your current level of skill."

"That's so sweet of you, thank you!" Callie gushed, gripping his arm and smiling happily up at him. "Wow, I never realized how tall you are. Then again, everyone's tall to me. I think I'm all of five-foot-two."

The strategist paused in his task of laying out the required ingredients, throwing his coiffed head back in a hearty laugh. "You are rather, ah, dainty for someone bearing the name Mortifera." They laughed easily for a few more moments before Ignis looked curiously around the space.

"I'll need a large baking sheet and quite a few spices. Do you have them readily available?"

The raven-haired woman chewed her bottom lip and squinted her eye in thought. She glanced quickly at the list of spices needed. "The baking sheet, yes. The spices, absolutely not. I don't even know what some of these are. If you need salt and pepper, I have you covered."

She couldn't help but laugh at the cringe Ignis gave at her confession.

"I suppose it's a good thing I had the foresight to purchase the requisite spices," he groused. "I do wonder how you've managed to feed yourself before now."

"Hey, now," she fired back, poking him in the chest with her index finger. "Frozen meals and takeout are perfectly acceptable-"

"Astrals, Callie, do not finish that sentence," Ingis interrupted, nose wrinkling. "Please hand me the baking sheet."

As Callie turned to the wall behind Ignis, she attempted to recall the cabinet housing the baking sheet. The upper cabinets were too small… she bypassed the stove, eventually finding them in her large lower cabinet near the corner. When she turned to hand him her prize, they bumped into each other.

“Sorry!” Callie grunted as they collided. “The perils of a narrow galley kitchen!”

Ignis blushing was a strange sight, indeed. Though Callie had witnessed it a handful of times, it somehow never normalized for her; he oozed confidence in the training room and when discussing matters pertaining to Lucis. To have him then stumble when presented with social interactions was an interesting juxtaposition.

“Quite alright,” he breathed, his hands straying on hers a moment when he retrieved the sheet from her. It was then she noticed he still wore his gloves.

“Why don’t you take those off?” she asked, tugging at his index finger for emphasis. She paused before laughing raucously. “I’d make a joke about pulling fingers but I can see you’re a distinguished gentleman.”

Withdrawing his hand, Ignis smirked at her before turning to set the baking tray next to the vegetables and meats that were to be placed upon it.

“A distinguished gentleman that often travels with Gladio, Prompto and Noct,” he said, reaching for a blade to chop the vegetables with. “I assure you, I’ve likely heard the very same joke countless times. I may have laughed at it a time or two as well. The world may never know. Now, let’s get these vegetables chopped.”

“Just a man, after all,” Callie laughed. She retrieved the knife from Ignis and began chopping them. “Big, small, does it matter? Also, I see you deftly ignored my suggestion to remove your gloves. I promise I don’t have any diseases.” “To your preference,” he clarified. In truth, he was avoiding removing his gloves for a handful of reasons. There was no need; he frequently crafted meals with them on. They offered a certain level of protection should his constantly buzzing mind lapse in judgment and by that point, his hands were ultra sensitive from being encased in leather more often than not. Most importantly, Callie's touch was already overwhelming, so why push things further?

The woman in question glanced sideways at him while she chopped, watching as he regarded the cuts of meat they’d be using for the evening, questions hanging silently between them. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, he paused his prep and began removing his gloves.

“Wow, so they do come off,” Callie jested, setting aside her knife as she finished her vegetables. “There goes my theory of you being an android.”

“Indeed,” the strategist agreed, giving her a wry smile. “I’m not entirely convinced you aren’t a vampire, yet. Are you ready to tackle the protein?”

“Touché. I am ready, master chef.”

As they worked to season the cuts and get them onto the baking sheets with the vegetables, Ignis preferred to guide that Callie could pick up the techniques required to prepare meals in the future. From his vantage point at her side, he was able to watch her mannerisms: how she stuck her tongue between her right teeth and bit down when she was concentrating, how she raised her right eyebrow and deadpanned when things didn’t go her way. It was, in a word, adorable, and he found himself smiling through it all.

“Look, rice is easy. I can handle that part,” Callie proclaimed once the meat and vegetables were in the oven. “You can go sit, if you like?”

Ignis nodded. “I’ll be but a moment, if you’re sure.”

He took a few moments in the restroom to reign himself in, washing what felt like every single cell on his hands and splashing some cool water on his face. Dealing with dignitaries was one thing: it was his duty and therefore, easy for him to separate himself from anxiety to do what was needed. During council, he had no time for anxiety, nor were any particular social skills needed. In the presence of someone he felt a connection outside of brotherhood with, he felt awkward and bumbling. It was a singularly uncomfortable sensation.

It was time to leave the restroom, lest his host become suspicious. As he turned the handle, the sound of muttered curses reached Ignis' ears, followed by a peculiar smell. His feet carried him automatically back to the kitchen, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

The sight that greeted him stop Ignis in his tracks, a dumbfounded expression painting his face. Callie was frantically trying to stop the pot of rice from boiling over, waving her arms wildly at it as if it would have any stopping power. She was cursing under her breath, but the tactician could just hear her…

“Gods damn it all, and I just told him I could manage… fucking hell, stop, stop, stop!” It didn’t stop.

The scene was too much to witness, causing Ignis to loose a great guffaw, pitching forward to brace himself on his knees as he laughed. Callie whirled around in a panic, meeting his laughing form with steely eyes.

“Laugh it up, Scientia!” she drawled. “When you’re finished, help me tame the monster that I’ve created, will you? Damn it!”

As the laughter subsided, Ignis sidled over, pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger and clapped a hand on Callie's shoulder. “I’ll handle this.”

All in all, when the pair sat down at Callie’s black dining table just big enough for two, the meal was delicious. Ignis had managed to salvage the rice and both the meat and vegetables were baked to perfection.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me,” Callie said, smiling.

“It's nothing, truly,” Ignis dismissed, embarrassed. “I, ah, it is my duty to assure that... those in direct service to the king are in top form.”

Callie's quicksilver eyes twinkled, but if she saw through his bluff, she chose not to voice it. When it came to dinner, however, she sang a different tune.

“Six, my compliments to the chef,” Callie all but moaned. “How do you make something so simple taste so good?”

Though Ignis flushed at her tone, he grinned all the same at the praise. “Proper preparation and seasoning. It’s something that will come in time until you won’t need the recipe book at all… unless it’s to concoct your own.”

When Callie didn’t answer right away, he noticed how slowly her eyes were blinking, how her jaw seemed to give a great effort in chewing. Exhausted though she clearly was, Ignis couldn’t help but briefly admire her beauty.

“Mortifera,” he scolded. Her eyes slid to meet his, her lack of protest at her given name telling. “If you needed to rest, you should have said so. Ready yourself for sleep; I shall place these in containers for you and tidy up.”

Fire lit in her eyes then, albeit a dull spark compared to its usual roar. “Ignis, no! I can’t allow you to clean my apartment. Look, I’m enjoying your company but… yeah, I guess I’m tired. I’ll clean up. You can go ahead and go. Thank you again for coming today.”

She turned and took their plates to the kitchen and began cleaning up when a hand landed gently on her shoulder. Callie looked up to see the royal adviser looking fondly down at her, a serene smile adorning his handsome face.

“Please,” he said simply. “I insist.”

That she trudged off without complaint was a victory. However, many minutes later she hadn’t returned or made a sound, prompting Ignis to investigate.

“Callie?” he called, knocking on the door she disappeared behind. “Are you alright?” No answer came. After a minute, he knocked again.

“Callie? Astrals, I hope you’re decent. I’m going to open the door a touch to make certain you’re alright,” he warned. When no answer came again, he turned the handle and pushed. He briefly took in the room: a large window opposite where he entered in the small room that housed a bed and a single dresser with naught else. Two doors in the room lead to presumably a closet and perhaps an en suite restroom. Minimalistic, like Callie. Speaking of, his eyes cast around, searching for her.

The sight that met his worried emerald gaze was an endearing one. Callie lay face-down on her bed, still clad in her day clothes. Her feet dangled off the edge of the mattress, her mouth open and snoring softly. “Goodness,” he breathed. Contemplating a moment, he decided she looked rather uncomfortable and moved to tuck her in. As he swung her legs around and nestled her head properly on her pillow, he tried not to notice how smooth her muscles were, how he enjoyed being in such close proximity with her. When she was settled, he drew the comforter around her and clicked off her bedside lamp. The moonlight streamed in through the window, highlighting her raven strands platinum, her pale skin ethereal, glowing. As he turned to leave, a gentle smile touching his lips, he paused. Unable to resist her siren's call, Ignis returned to her side and pressed the softest of kisses to her forehead. He hadn’t noticed his eyes fluttered shut until her hand grazed his cheek, causing them to fly open. Ignis panicked, but it was simply Callie reaching out in her sleep. “So handsome,” she whispered. Her long fingers traced his lips before her hand dropped back to her side and she resumed snoring.

It was then Ignis decided to take his leave. Gathering his things, he turned off the lights as he went. Finally, he locked the door and made for Noct's R8, reaching for a can of Ebony once inside. After the day's events, he needed to unwind and thus set a course for the freeway; a long drive at high speeds never failed to help untangle the threads of his wayward thoughts.

As street lamps streaked past and caffeine rushed through his veins, Ignis considered his position: married to his duty to Noct, no time to dedicate to a potential partner. It wasn't the first time he found himself wanting to pursue a relationship; it appeared his lack of experience with such emotions often led them to overwhelm him rather quickly. This, however, felt different.

He sighed and decided to let things play out as naturally as possible. At some point, as future king, Noct would need to take a bride and Ignis would finally be able to relinquish some of his duties to the future queen. Until then, he would simply have to make do.

#ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #ignis scientia #ignis x oc #lots of snark #complicated emotions #sleepy callie #final fantasy xv #ignis stupeo scientia

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