#it tastes awful i thought it was just my country but apparently this is the same everywhere tastes like weirdly sweet vomit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mad4turtles · 1 year

Note

I'm not sure if you're still doing writing requests, but I really loved your oneshot about Leo coming out to Splinter - it brought a few tears to my eyes thinking about my own coming out experience :') if you want, could you maybe do something about Mikey giving Usagi "The Shovel Talk"? It doesn't have to be serious, I just thought it'd be funny if Mikey went all Dr. Delicate Touch while Leo tries not to die in the background. Hope you have a good day/night! :D

I'm so sorry this took FOREVER to get out, I went through several drafts before I finally had to say it was fine XD Hope you enjoy :3

---

First Impressions (Part 2)

Miyamoto Usagi has become a regular guest in the Hamato household.

After introductions went about as smoothly as one could expect—Splinter warring between outrage and panic and glee that his Baby Blue was dating, and the rest of the family stunned that Leo actually has game (or maybe Usagi is just as dumb as he is)—the clan don't go long without seeing him wandering the lair, usually side by side with Leo.

In hindsight, that makes the death glares Donnie drills into the back of the rabbit's head make much more sense, but that's another issue.

Apparently, they'd been together three weeks before the introductions, and Mikey believes it. Just yesterday, he'd caught them through the crack of Leo's open bedroom door sitting together on the bed, sharing a pair of earbuds as Leo shuffled through his Spotify playlist, letting Usagi in on his atrocious taste in music.

“Hey, glam-rock is the shit,” Leo nudged Usagi's shoulder. “And you can't talk when all you listen to is J and K Pop, classical, country and Lofi.”

“Shut up, baka kappa,” Usagi nudged him back, grinning wide and showing off the buck front teeth that Leo found adorable. “Classical is thought-provoking, good for meditation. And I'll have you know Lofi is calming, something you never are about anything ever.”

“Okay, I will allow that just this once but you cannot defend country or K Pop—”

“Contrary to popular belief, not all of your western music is about human Christian values, tractors or drinking—in fact, give me your phone, I'll show you my jazz playlist—”

“No!” Leo pulled his arm up, holding his phone out of Usagi's reaching paws even as the rabbit clambered over him. “Knowing you it'll be some awful jazz-lofi remix or somehow have Catholicism involved, people are getting creative in converting the masses—ow! No, get away from me—!”

“Your music sucks! You must be properly educated! Jazz is soothing for the soul!”

“But Queen! David Bowie! Prince!”

“All of the Hidden City knows you're gay, Leonardo, you don't have to blast it on speaker, too!”

“You attack me?! I let you into my house! I trusted you!”

“Gankona baka! Kōfuku shite horobiro!”

“Conejito idiota! ¡Fuera de mi trasero!”

They'd tousled for a bit before falling over on the bed and giving into giggles, barely any space between them. Leo's cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright and his grin a wide, dopey thing. Usagi called him a fool and nuzzled his nose against Leo's, earning a delighted chirp from the slider, and it was the happiest Mikey had seen him in months.

He's so in love it's gross. Mikey means that in the best way.

And Usagi seems like a nice guy. A really nice guy.

But they've been fooled by a pretty face and flowery words before. Last time, Leo had to bail them out. This time, Leo is too high up on cloud nine; he won't notice the danger until it's too late, and the fallout will be devastating.

Leo is strong, the strongest of them all as far as Mikey's concerned, in little ways they've never noticed until he'd showed them all by locking himself in hell with a demon. He's faced bigger, scarier things than any teenager—any person—ever should. But relationships? Dating? Being vulnerable with another person, opening your heart and trusting that person to take care of it, and in turn care for theirs? That's a beast of a different calibre.

Heartbreak happens to everyone; it's just how life is, and ignoring the ugly truth of it serves no one. Leo had barely survived his physical body breaking under metal fists driven by hatred and mindless bloodlust. Mikey doubts even he, with all that strength he possesses in spades that have carried him through some of the worst moments of their lives, would last long with a wound that deep.

Mikey loves him too much to let that happen.

(That, and he really doesn't want to kill Usagi, bail costs a lot, and not even Donnie has that much in his many wired accounts.)

So the trio meet up in Donnie's lab late one night and make a plan.

Miyamoto Usagi is gonna learn what'll happen if he messes with the Hamato clan.

~0o0~

A week later, Mikey corners Usagi at the front door.

The samurai in training doesn't startle when he drops from the ceiling or flinch at the smile that would have his brothers running for the hills. He smiles back, adjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder.

“Hello, Michelangelo. Nice of you to drop in,” he says, completely straight, and Mikey kind of wants to die. Leo did say they've been dating for a while. More than enough time for him to be a horrible influence on the otherwise straight (ha) laced samurai.

“Hey, Usagi! Here to see Leo?” Mikey asks like it's not obvious.

Still, Usagi nods. “That I am. We'd talked about some traditional Japanese snacks he hasn't tried before, so I bought some from the marketplace near my home.” He unzips his bag to let Mikey peek inside. “I'd be happy to share some with you and your brothers. I may have over-purchased.”

Mikey is dazzled by the array of absolutely delicious-looking snacks—including mango-flavoured mochi, oh be still his heart—but he shakes his head. Focus. Leo's heart and Usagi's continued existence depend on it. “That's great, Usagi, but I'm good for now. Actually, we gotta talk with you real quick before you see your boy. May I take your bag?”

Usagi blinks at him. “Oh. Um. Certainly?” He zips the bag up and shrugs it off, handing it to Mikey, and damn, he wasn't kidding. Did he buy out the whole store?

Mikey shoulders the bag and smiles. “Perfect! Now, stay still so Donnie doesn't accidentally knock you out.”

��Okay—wait, what—?”

Donnie drops from the ceiling and shoves a pillowcase over Usagi's head.

And as Mikey expects, Usagi doesn't immediately struggle or fight: he freezes, an innate rabbit instinct kinda like how Mikey retreats into his shell. He almost feels bad for exploiting that weakness. Almost, because it gives Raph enough time to grab him in his massive arms, pick him up and carry him off to the atrium. Mikey and Donnie follow behind, the latter wearing an unsettling grin that tells Mikey he's enjoying this far more than he should.

Blindfolded and trapped in Raph's solid grip. Usagi doesn't panic. Though his voice carries a twinge of worry when he says, “Is this a game? Am I being kidnapped? Did Leonardo put you up to this?”

“All will be revealed in good time,” Donnie says with a chuckle meant to sound ominous but it comes off as dorky. “Just relax, don't ask any questions and everything shall run smoothly and without the removal of a thing attached to another thing, like your head from your neck.”

“Alright?” Usagi says. Mikey bumps his hip against Donnie's and scowls. Donnie rolls his eyes.

They reach the living room, Dad's chair thankfully unoccupied, and Raph drops Usagi into it. Mikey sets the duffle bag down and quickly zips to his room to grab the sweater, glasses and pants, shrugging into them. When he returns, Donnie has just finished duct-taping Usagi's arms to the chair—

“Donald!”

“What?” Donnie has the gall to look offended. “This was your idea!”

“Not to tie him up!”

“Who's to say he won't run, hm? He's a rabbit and they're fast as frick, we'd never catch him before Leo gets back, and then our whole plan is ruined. Also, no teenager is comfortable talking about 'feelings', so I'm just taking extra precautions—”

“I can still hear you, you know,” Usagi says, the pillowcase still over his head. He doesn't seem bothered about this whole situation, which both amuses and concerns Mikey a little.

“You shush, or I'll bring out the chainsaw,” Donnie says.

Mikey looks at Raph. “You didn't think to stop him?”

Raph folds his arms and shrugs. “I'm just the muscle here, big man. This is your show.”

Dr Feelings appreciates the level of trust and respect Raph has for Mikey that's been a slow-growing thing these last few years. Dr Delicate Touch wants to strangle his oldest brother for being a wise ass.

He rolls his eyes instead and gets in position while Donnie sets up the projector. He nods to Raph, and the snapper pulls off the pillowcase.

Usagi blinks, adjusting to the brightness and looking around. “You blindfolded me to take me to the living room? Where I've been multiple times?”

“Shush,” Donnie hisses, “second warning. We'll be doing the talking here, bunny boy.”

“Don, chill,” Raph says, looking seconds from bursting out laughing. “We're just here to have a nice, friendly chat.”

Usagi arches a brow, pointedly dipping his chin down at his taped arms.

Raph's smile twitches, a drop of sweat trickling down his brow. “... I'm just the muscle?”

Mikey clears his throat loudly, snapping their attention back to him. He smiles and rolls his shoulders back, relaxing into the role that's become a blessing these last few months than the curse it was two years ago (at least to his brothers).

“Good evening! I'm Dr Feelings, and welcome to my newest seminar—!”

He clicks the button for the next slide on the PowerPoint, a photo of the three turtles glaring down at the camera from a high angle, a shovel in Mikey's hands. Underneath, the title reads in comically bright, bubblegum pink letters--

“—Shovel Talks!”

Usagi stares at the slide and then at each of the present turtles. Mikey keeps his smile bright while his brothers (mostly Donnie) no longer hide the touch of sadistic glee in theirs.

“... ah,” he says carefully. “I see the position I'm in now.”

“See, I don't think you do,” Donnie drawls on Usagi's right, Raph looming over on the left. “So we are going to educate you, and do not interrupt or talk until you are spoken to as we have much to go through and very little time before our dearly devoted dum-dum returns from April and Splinter's distraction outing. Dr Feelings,” Donnie turns to Mikey and gestures grandly, “Proceed with your first slide.”

“Thank you! Let's start off by asking our patient some simple questions. Question one!” Mikey flips to the next slide titled 'Spill The Tea' with a doodle of a teacup underneath it. Under that is a photo of Leo flashing a peace sign at the camera with a goofy grin. “What are your intentions towards one Hamato Leonardo?”

Usagi blinks. “... I would think my intentions were obvious? We're dating, are we not?”

“Sigh, yes, we can see as much given how you two are all but attached at the hip whenever you're so much as in the same vicinity,” Donnie mutters before getting right up in Usagi's face with a glare, fisting the front of his blue hoodie and shaking him once. “What we don't know is why you are dating Leonardo! Were you dared to by compatriots or colleagues of similar age or older for a cruel joke? Or are you a spy sent from a yet unknown enemy seeking to destroy us from the inside, integrating yourself into our inner circle by seducing our resident feeble-minded little gay only to turn on us at the last second, surrendering us to your evil leader and shattering the heart of the boy who fell in love with a person that never truly existed?! Speak, heathen!!”

Usagi stares at Donnie with wide, mildly disturbed eyes. Donnie glares at Usagi, right eye twitching.

“Jeezy heckin' creezy, Don,” Raph squeaks after a beat. “How long've you been holding that in?”

Donnie whirls on Raph with a half-crazed grin without releasing Usagi's hoodie. “The whole dub, baby!” he says.

Raph facepalms.

Mikey gathers himself quickly and clears his throat again. “Donald, if you would please let go of our patient—”

“Prisoner, guilty until proven innocent—”

“—patient, so we can hear his clear and honest answer? Don't you test the waters of my patience, boy, I will bring out Dr Delicate Touch on your ass.”

“Language,” Raph sighs, working Donnie's grip from Usagi's hoodie and bodily lifting him up and away from the rabbit. Donnie goes without a fight, but not without a spitting glare aimed at Usagi. Ignoring him, Raph offers Usagi a smile, cementing his role as the Good Cop. “Sorry about him. Just answer the question so we can get this over with.”

“And we'll know if you're lying!” Donnie adds. “I have lie detectors under the seat that'll fry your cotton ass six ways to Sunday—!”

“There are no lie detectors.”

“Raaaaph, you're ruining it, I'm trying to instil fear—!”

“Yer doin' enough of that to me right now! We were worried about Dad goin' all 'Daddy with a shotgun' on him when we really should've been watchin' the 'Overprotective Twin with his Middle Child Nonsense'—!”

“May I speak, now?”

Usagi's tone cuts through the idiocy as neat as the katana he wields, and the boys fall silent. Raph sets Donnie down, and Donnie steps back, his glare fading to make way for open confusion and surprise.

Mikey, who'd been on the cusp of dropping the act and wringing his brothers' necks, takes in Usagi's expression—purposefully neutral, the way he shuts his eyes as he takes a breath, his fingers drumming the armrests he's tied to while the heel of one foot bounces on the floor—and wonders if they've crossed a line here.

Then Usagi sighs, slow and measured, and opens his eyes. “I understand why you're concerned,” he says. “Leonardo has been through... a lot, to put it mildly. You all have, which is why you're so protective of one another. I admire and respect that; you hold true to the ancient belief that founded your clan centuries ago. Anata wa hitori janai, I believe. Leonardo told me about it. About the Shredder, the invasion... and the prison dimension.”

A shudder runs through the brothers. Mikey sees Donnie's jaw lock, Raph's fingers curling into fists. Mikey pulls at his fingers and bites his lip. “... he told you?” he asks in a smaller voice than he intends.

Usagi's gaze softens minutely, and he nods. “Not everything, but yes. I never prompted, but... he saw me fit enough to know.” His brows furrow, his frown deep and angry as he glares at his lap. “It sickens me to hear what that creature put you through—what he did to Leonardo. And it frightens me to think of how you'd come so close to losing him... how I'd come so close to never meeting him at all.”

Oh, Mikey thinks, almost floored. Oh wow.

Usagi takes another breath and raises his head, meeting each of their gazes. “... So yes, I understand your fears regarding our relationship and your hesitance to trust me. Leonardo's well-being will always be your top priority. He's precious to you.” Then Usagi smiles. It's small but bright, warm and quietly delighted, proud and certain. “He's precious to me, too.”

This time Mikey is floored. Oh. Wow.

“To answer your question, Dr Feelings,” Usagi continues, heedless of the turtle's altering perception of reality, “my intentions towards Hamato Leonardo are simple: I want to protect him. I know he's more than capable, and knowing him, he'll never ask me for help outright. But when he does, I want to be there—no, I will be there, because I care about him. Very much. We haven't known each other long, but my life is brighter and better with him in it, and I'll do whatever I must to keep it that way.

“I want to make him as happy as he's made me because he deserves that much. He deserves every good thing in this world.” He shrugs, flashing a bashful, buck-toothed smile. “For now, I hope he can settle for just me.”

Mikey stares. Donnie stares. Raph stares.

Oh. Wow.

Either he's the greatest liar ever, or they've had him pegged so wrong. But then, not even Big Mama, the Queen Bee Bitch of lies, could fake that kind of devotion.

No, Usagi really is just a good guy. A great guy.

“Dammit!” Donnie cries, throwing his hands up. “I can't even fully hate you ironically anymore, what the hell!” He hangs his head with a sigh. “I suppose I shall have to settle for 'jealous older twin suffering from attention withdrawal from the younger twin' until further notice. Also, you get to live another day. Congrats.”

Usagi smirks. “Thank you, I think?”

Raph rolls his eyes, but he's grinning from ear to ear, slicing away the tape binding Usagi to the chair and helping him to his feet without prompting. He drops a heavy hand on Usagi's shoulder, his grin widening when the rabbit doesn't buckle under his strength. “What I think Donnie means to say is... well. We're glad you have Leo's back. And we're sorry for thinkin' the worst of you when we're all still gettin' to know each other. I mean, we've seen how happy you two are together, and we just—well, we wanted to—”

Usagi huffs a laugh, patting Raph's massive bicep. “As I said, I understand. My sensei often warns me against jumping to conclusions, but it's different for family. Especially younger siblings. I should know, I have a little sister.”

“Right?! You get it! My little brothers are literal demons even the devil's too scared to look at, but you get it—!”

Mikey shoves his way between them and barrels into Usagi for a hug, squeezing him tight. The rabbit squeaks in surprise and possibly pain, but his arms carefully come around Mikey's shell a heartbeat later, a chuckle running through him. “I suppose this means I have the youngest's seal of approval?”

Mikey nods against his chest, raising his head to beam up at the rabbit. “You do. Welcome to the family!”

“Thank you. I'm honoured to—”

“But we didn't finish the slide show, so I'll run a tee-ell-dee-arr for you. Hurt Leo and you die.”

“... ah.”

“They'll never find your body,” Donnie adds, “because I will reduce it to atoms. I have a ray in the works, I can show you the blueprints.”

“And if that fails, Raph will break every bone in your body and dump you in the Hudson!” Raph says brightly. “Ever swim there? Pretty deep. You find all kinds'a weird stuff. A rabbit yokai won't stand out much.”

“... I understand. I'll definitely deserve one of those fates.”

“Oh, you will,” Mikey chimes. “Thank you for understanding, and thanks for coming to our TED talk!”

“Pretty sure I did most of the talking.”

“I will yeet your ass across this house—”

“Are you chuckleheads done harassing my boyfriend, or can I have him back now?” drawls a familiar voice that has them leaping a foot out of their shells. They turn to find Leo leaning against the back of the couch with one arm, the other hand propped on his popped hip. He arches a brow at their stares.

Mikey jumps back from Usagi to wildly point at his immediate older brother. “How long have you been standing there?!”

“About a minute,” Leo says. “I've been behind the couch the whole time, though.”

“What?! When'd you get back from hanging with Dad and April?!” Raph cries.

“Never left,” Leo pushes off the couch and swings his arm around Usagi's shoulders upon approach like its second nature. Usagi leans into him likewise, one arm curling around his waist. “I kinda figured this whole 'shovel talk' thing was gonna happen sooner or later, so the minute April and Splinter tried to drag me out for a 'father-son-daughter thing' the same day Usagi said he'd come over, I knew you assholes were scheming and told 'em I wasn't leaving.” His eyes narrow a little, and Mikey almost shrinks back. “Didn't think you'd tie him up, though, or that Raph would just let it happen.”

“I'm just the muscle!”

“And I am hurt and offended that you all thought so little of my absolutely innocent Bunny Boo! You look at this face—” He unwraps his arm to squish Usagi's cheeks between both hands—“and tell me there's a single bad thought behind those beautiful pink eyes!”

“Weonawdo,” Usagi mutters, fur tinted pink with embarrassment.

Quick as a whip, Donnie says, “There's not a thought whatsoever if he's dating you.”

“You're a thot.”

“Different words and spelling. And it takes one to know one.”

“Die.”

“You first.”

“Both of you knock it off,” Raph sighs, pinching his brow the way he's done since he first knew the pains of being the eldest. It's a miracle there's not a permanent mark between his eyes. He turns to the rabbit. “Sorry, could we borrow Leo for a sec? Then I swear you two can finally go hang out and... do whatever two teenage boys do when they're head over heels for each other but still in their parent's house so they gotta keep it PG, 'kay?”

“Um, wow?” Leo scowls, dropping Usagi's face to plant his hands on his hips. “Who do you take me for, a horny teen with no self-control around my significant other?”

“That is exactly what we take you for,” Donnie says.

“I don't!” Mikey says, raising his hand. “You're just a dumb gay hoppin' mad for your bunny boo!”

Leo's eye twitches. “Gee. Thanks.”

Usagi snickers, taking Leo's hands, and Leo instantly melts like putty. “It's fine, Leonardo. I'll wait in your room and get the snacks sorted,” he says, then he leans in to kiss the corner of Leo's mouth. Right in front of everyone.

It's not something he's done before—being openly affectionate with Leo when his siblings or fathers were around—but then Mikey isn't surprised.

Maybe this whole 'hesitance' and 'mistrust' thing hasn't been as one-sided as he'd thought.

Mikey never knew a slider could turn pink, but Leo manages it, steam funnelling out of his ears as the rabbit walks away, grabbing his duffle bag as he goes. There's a pep in his step, and Mikey wonders if the kiss or their acceptance put it there.

Once he's gone, Donnie breaks the silence, staring in the direction Usagi had left in—“Should I get the tranquillizer?”

“You've done enough today.” Raph puts a massive hand over Donnie's face and shoves him onto the couch, ignoring his indignant squawking as he faces Leo. The slider collects himself quickly and crosses his arms, flashing that devil-may-care grin that irritates and amuses Mikey.

“So? You gonna tie me to the chair and subject me to the horrors of dating life via Dr Feelings?” Leo drawls, “Or are you finally gonna admit that you were wrong about my totally amazing and hot boyfriend?”

Raph sighs. “Yes, we may have taken it too far—and in Donnie's case, we were overly paranoid, even by my standards, but we learned our lesson about jumping the gun. Again. And you were right.” He smiles, broad and warm. “Your boy is cool with me, little brother. You got yourself a keeper.”

Leo blinks, his smirk falling. “... wait, wait—for real?”

“Did you not hear his heartfelt speech not even two pages ago? It was rather dramatic and moving,” Donnie says absently from the couch, eyes now on his phone to avoid looking anyone in the eye, but Mikey knows what's up. They all do, but they're nice enough not to say anything. “And if I'm being honest—which isn't saying much because I can't lie for shit and you can clock one with an accuracy that borders on mystical—I don't actually think your new beau is inherently evil. I cannot say that I like him... but I approve. For now. My earlier threats still stand, though, so please try to keep him in line, or I will turn him into a hat.”

Leo falters again in the face of sincerity, however masked, from his twin. “...oh. Um. Wow. That's—uh, cool. That's cool, Dee, I, um... thanks...”

And finally, Mikey steps forward, shrugging off the sweater, glasses and pants. “What? You really think it's that odd that we're lookin' out for you? It's like Usagi said, you're precious to us, bro! And he was damn right sayin' you deserve every good thing. You deserve to be happy with someone who cares about you as much as we do.”

He darts forward again even before Leo's eyes take on a misty sheen, bundling his brother in his arms as much as he can and squeezing. “And if Usagi makes you happy, we're happy too.”

“... you guys,” Leo whines, his voice thick as he holds Mikey impossibly close. Donnie tosses his phone aside to hop up and join the hug, cheek resting on Leo's shoulder. Raph lumbers over and plucks them off the floor, nuzzling the top of Leo's head with a low grumble from deep in his chest.

Later, with mostly dry eyes and a megawatt smile, Leo jogs off to find Usagi. Mikey stands with his eldest brothers and folds his arms. “Our work here is done, gentlemen.”

“But we didn't really do anything,” Donnie says.

Mikey swishes his cape and departs.

“Where the hell did you get that cape?!”

~0o0~

The following week, Mikey corners Usagi at the front door and tackles him with a hug. Usagi laughs and returns it freely.

In the living room, Donnie's eyes are glued to his laptop, fingers typing away. He lifts one fist, Usagi wordlessly bumping it as he sits on the couch with Raph. Setting his comic book aside, Raph reaches out to ruffle his white bangs and chuckles when Usagi's paw bats him away.

Leo enters from the kitchen and immediately brightens when he spots Usagi, leaping over the top of the couch to bounce in the open space beside the bunny. “Hey!"

“Hey, yourself,” Usagi snickers. "You couldn't possibly have missed me that much to come running as soon as I walk in."

Leo swings an arm over the top of the couch, the other pressing a hand to his forehead in a dramatic swoon. "Parting is such sweet sorrow," he bemoans, batting his eyelids at Usagi, "that I shall say good night till it be morrow!"

Mikey laughs so hard he gives himself hiccups. Raph chokes on his soda. Donnie whirls on Leo, looking downright mutinous. "You did not just quote Shakespear so you could flirt with your boyfriend!"

Leo gestures to a madly grinning Usagi trying to hide behind his hands. "It worked, though! You guys hate it when I use the cheap pickup lines off Google, so I consulted the world's finest wordsmith instead."

"You are abusing and defiling William's good name! Thou crusty batch of nature!"

Leo rolls his eyes. "Whatever. You're just jelly 'cause I've officially got more game than you."

"Or Usagi has terrible taste in men."

Leo opens his mouth to say something he'll probably regret, but Usagi swiftly intercepts with a kiss on the cheek that stops him cold. "I thought it was creative," he says, "Much better than your awful pickup lines."

At that, Leo forgets Donnie completely, leaning in with a dumb grin to peck Usagi on the lips. Raph shakes his head with a secret smile, and Mikey giggles as he lays across Raph's thighs, Switch in hand.

Donnie gags. “Get a room.”

“But keep the door open!” Splinter calls from—somewhere.

Usagi tugs an ear over his face, flushed and embarrassed. Leo throws his head back and laughs.

Mikey grins, basking in the glow as he plugs into his game. He can get used to this.

---

Reblogs are appreciated :3

Feel free to send more requests <3

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #leosagi #rottmnt leosagi #rise usagi #miyamoto usagi #my writing #fic request #i love these idiots

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cielospeaks · 1 year

Text

b6 temp tri thoughts

bc hoo boy for me who hated b3 there is a lot to unpack.

firstoff b3 itself thoughts. gosh what a fucking disappointment of a story. for me this was where heroes story started to go downhill. initially gacha was kinda lame but the story was nice or at least bland and unoffensive (aka b1), and from b3 on the gacha was better but the story was much much worse.

before b3 i actually liked the starter trio bc sure, they were boring, but they seemed responsible enough. just like super generic standins for the usual lords/ect. after b3 their personalities developed. () was a fucking control freak and jerk, the sort of person who lectures you on your own customs and tells you why your beliefs are wrong, and also guilt trips you into complimenting them. () is a fucking stalker who has shit taste in relationships and people, thinks abuse is romantic, and is like the embodiment of being positive in a nasty way. () is a horrible leader, a kissass, and has none of the original characters likeable traits (defender of the weak, funny, ect) and instead is just ‘i love money’ memes.

the other characters introduced arent much better. gosh dang eir i was rooting for you to be a pamina character when you were first introduced. now i just feel like. the tired man with his cigarette looking done with everything. like i havent liked eir since b3 so i dont hate her now or anything but like. ok good for you youre a piece of shit.

honestly this is just gonna be me ripping b3 a new one so ill skip to the temptri story. as a premise its not bad, def better than b2s story: hel is left rulerless so the person who’s taken over needs to get rid of the other heir for like. competition. something something i think its like addressed in game of thrones or something idk medieval royalty politics. its like why macbeth sent assassins after duncan’s sons even tho they were out of the country. so the god/dragon of eir’s birthplace, who was also apparently her nanny, saves her life by merging with her and they go on a quest to retrieve the souls of eir’s dead subjects. like ok yea thats vaguely interesting sure go off.

the good: a little more development on hel/ymir. i also do like ymir! shes like the mom whos kinda a pushover, like if her kid (friend’s kid) wants to eat candy late at night she’ll do it bc she feels bad she wasnt in the kid’s life enough sorta thing. having the magic dragon being kind to the protagonist is such a fucking refresher after b2 of n ifl just threatening and demeaning fj orm (and laegy) for like five chapters (until they decided shes redeemable at the fucking last minute despite her being awful. but anyways i digress). i dont have a problem with her. cool good for you.

im having a separate section for ganglot bc i really liked her. like esp seeing the fan reaction against her and how badly shes written in the story makes me like her infinitely more! oh my gosh!

-shes actually dutiful at her job. like shes a really cool i think the word is anti villain? a character who actually has noble and good motivations but does it in a chaotic way/that is destructive to the protagonist. or something like that. theres a mess left over bc of the order’s swaggering and someones gotta clean it up and shes gonna be that someone bc her guardian is dead now, killed by her guardian’s adopted daughter. like her motivations are understandable, she’s after eir for medieval politics plus you killed/helped kill my role model slash mother figure who i thought was also your mother how fucking could you.

-shes that trope of “guy has a bitter animosity toward their presumed rival but said rival is just a dude. who acts normal abt it”. and gosh i love that trope. (herb, sal (from f g o and amadeus the movie version too), randall monsters inc, the list goes on i bet) its a good trope and i always love to see girl characters written with beloved traits of guy characters (gosh i wish there were more characters that arent guys written with wholesome kind jock kronk type characteristics. high school au feng is basically that. but again off topic). i feel bad for ganglot bc she just had to choose the person to have a vendetta against who would actually fuck her up out of proportion but. -doctor idv mourn emote-

-her design is nice and her backstory makes her personality/character more sympathetic. i like the classy formal look, it fits as her being a handmaiden and very dutiful, kinda like the maids/butlers in 14. im so grateful they didnt make her an au version of the main characters like the fan theories were saying. she was abandoned as a child and is older than eir/adopted presumably before eir was, which means she couldnt be those characters even if they wanted her to be. fuck you eat shit fall off your horse. anyways. she basically had nothing and was taken in by someone who not only provided for her needs but offered herself as an example. im willing to bet that seeing hel gave ganglot a purpose/something to look up to, and that hel, while providing for her needs, probably treated their relationship more as a business/apprenticeship sorta thing. in fact theres even stuff that said that ganglot loved looking after eir, which makes it seem like she was kind to eir (which makes what happened even more sad/pisses me off) and only hated her after she killed hel. and considering ganglot didnt know abt what hel did to eir, she wouldnt know why eir rebelled against her. and eir never fucking explains it to her. to ganglot it must look like eir just was like “oh woops looks like im a princess to a pretty lively fairyland happily ever after kingdom im ditching your goth busy realm of the dead to go fuck off and escape from my responsibilities and also imma help some pet self insert of a kill-happy spoiled ass prince and his friends kill your boss slash role model byeeeee -nail polish emoji-”. like idk. its totally relatable and understandable why ganglot would want to kill eir.

-her fatal flaw that leads to her demise is her kindness/mercy. which is something you almost never see with villains, esp ones that are supposed to be unsympathetic. like maybe in a series with an antihero who takes advantage of them falling for a trick or something. or like joseph joestar outwitting the pillar men, but then its less kindness and more like “honor/chivalry” being outwitted by wiliness, which imo is completely different. this is like if the hero is pleading for their life before fighting the villain, the villain decides to give them this out of mercy, and the hero, without explaining anything to the villain who presumably was their friend before, just fucking sacrifices their friend’s life to murder the villain from within in order to kiss up to their longtime abusers who have a sad backstory uwu and that makes it ok. gosh i fucking hate some aspects of this game. anyways i think a villain who has a point whose mercifulness leads to them being killed by a dirty trick is kinda interesting and at least new.

the bad:

-gosh i hate the u b w ripoff in the plot. like please just get a better plot point dont rip off a fucking boring f ate story. their appearances were played up but ultimately did basically nothing but motivate eir, potentially to do worse things but then again thats up in the air (no pun intended) how much of what she chose to do was “for my friends!” and how much was her own idea.

-the jokes abt eirs new design. i dont have a problem with her new design, or even her decisions. it makes sense, seeing shes spent the last however long around these assholes that maybe she’s changed for the worse (or rather from a blank slate to something worse than that). but what i do have a problem is w the “jokes”. no assholes you cant just “cure” depression for one what these characters have is more akin to life altering trauma and just bc theyre wearing brighter colors and smiling more doesnt mean their “depression is gone/cured”. i dont like the in game explanation for idunn but i have my version which is (imo) more meaningful and in character. i think for eir technically it makes more sense with the lore given, as besides askr, which treats her like a pet or a trophy, ymir is the first person in her life whose treated her decently, and in a parental way at that. so yea, not really w the design but definitely with the fans jokes. shut the fuck up.

-the writing. like as a sort of tragedy of people not fucking communicating a la spi derman 1 (2002) or an episode of conan its fine, in fact its pretty good. like for those reasons (+ the sort of medieval drama aspects) i like it or rather dont have a problem. its that those aspects are basically just glossed over for a generic and not really morally substantial “good wins evil loses” angle that this series likes to take. its not as bad as b2 where “sure this person basically kept your life as a carrot on a string to get you to fight your mutual respected former dead enemy who that person dehumanizes, and also they constantly belittle and threaten you but hey they had a crush on your ancestor so that makes them a good person uwu in the end”, but its still not great. like i said ganglot is a really cool character and very multi faceted and sympathetic, but the series just treats her like “hels evil successor who hates eir for no reason” and the fandom calls her incompetent so im just like. i will bite you but im also too tired. idk. i like ganglot. she seems like kind of a workaholic young lady who both is the “i serve someone and am super faithful but they really dont deserve me” trope i unfortunately like (i say unfortunately bc its fucking annoying bc i always end up hating the person theyre faithful to unless its beet and schooby and in that case beet is just too lovable to hate, and also he never asked to be idolized also so him being greedy is something you cant blame him for).

-i think if the story was done better? or like a version id actually like? theres not much id want to change. i think to make eir actually sympathetic she should actually try to communicate what she learned abt hel/what hel did to her to ganglot, and ganglot either ignores her or shuts down eir, or ganglot still cant forgive her even knowing the truth. something like that. a quick fix and that makes everything better. have a flashback to when they were younger and ganglot being kind to eir, and make it more of a moral conflict eir has against fighting and killing her former friend. kinda like the scene in spi derman 3 (2007). ok enough spiderman references id also address what happens to hel after the story. either eir kills ganglot and resumes the responsibility for both the realm of life and the realm of death. or she is able to defeat but not kill ganglot, while recognizing her as an enemy also has the strength of character to recognize she’d be a good ruler of the dead, and gives her blessing/relinquishes her claim to the throne while leaving, never to see her again or something. idk.

id also personally just eradicate all mention of (u b w characters) from the story and make the ending not that eir goes back to her “friends in askr” but that she goes back to set things right, not as their tool and pawn but as the leader her people in the realm of life (and depending on which the realm of death) need, acknowledging her responsibility to her people and her independence. but nooooOOOoo she goes back to the people who treat her as a toy like all happy to be that way. this years story and the protagonists happily sacrificing others for their schemes and then having the gall to act sad abt it afterwards as if tehy werent the one who twisted the damn knife istg

#negative #kinda. i just want to unpack some thoughts #truth be told im not really feeling huge on this story #its just. character: has a rivalry with some guy and a sad ending to their story #me: oh gosh. oh gosh i need a moment. just give me a moment #tho im kinda glad. maybe its years late but heres a b3 character i actually like #i do kinda like the idea of her being a friend/acquaintance of the kasumisquad. i hc she does her own thing basically #there also needs to be a support group for axe wielding dead enemies of the main characters who are weak for the avista family #gameblogging

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watevermelon · 3 years

Text

Just Enough | Diluc (Genshin) x Traveler!Reader

✧ Summary: Between freeing Dvalin and pursuing the Geo Archon, you were constantly moving forward to find your brother with hardly a second to look back. You were in a rush to find your lost sibling, not realizing how your heart had stopped in Mondstadt. Visiting the city while waiting for things to die down after Rex Lapis’ death, you return to a… jealous Diluc?

➳ Spoilers for the Dark Knight Hero quest and some of the manga background ➳ Notes: lots of fluff, slight angst and jealousy, character development, mutual pining at one point, a long one-shot that covers the (1.0) beginning of the Liyue story ➳ Navigation

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If he had only asked you to stay.

To say that these past few weeks were a blur would be a severe understatement. For months you were simply a lost wanderer, traveling from world to world for any sort of clue that could lead you to your brother.

And in just a matter of weeks you were suddenly Mondstadt’s hero.

From bringing peace to Dvalin’s heart to meeting Mondstadt’s infamous Dark-knight hero, you were familiarizing yourself with a people and a place for a world you knew you did not belong to. Learning of the history of the Seven Archons, the Gods’ of contracts or of freedoms, suddenly you were being thrust into it all at once.

You shared the burden of knowledge with a few of Mondstadt’s elite, the true God of Freedom walking in plain sight to the citizens of his nation. And with him, were the quick allies you found side-by-side when fighting a dragon.

It was all happening so suddenly and Lord Barbatos himself was giving you directions to the next country over, to continue on your journey in meeting all seven Archons to Liyue.

To this day, you could fondly recall your final celebration in Mondstadt.

“To think that despite his small stature he can drink so much.” Kaeya commented from his seat at the table, eyes slid in the direction of Venti at the bar next to you. You could see the impatient stare behind Diluc’s eyes, not at all happy that their God was indulging himself so freely.

“Honorary Knight, Mondstadt thanks you for your service.” Jean formally stated, for the nth time since Dvalin had been freed.

“I’m just glad I was at the right place at the right time.” You answered back, offering a placating smile in return.

“Humility doesn’t pay for dinner!” Paimon hmphed next to you.

“But aren’t we at a feast now?” You countered, gesturing to the table.

She sighed again before moving to get a taste of some of the honey roasted ham. “Fine, don’t blame me when we have to settle into that poor excuse of a tent!”

“Please, do not feel you are in any rush to leave.” Jean offered, “You are welcome lodgings at our Favonius Headquarters.”

“With the other Knights of Favonius?” Diluc asked, face completely blank if not for the small upward tilt of his left brow.

Kaeya flirted with you from across the room, uncaring of the other partygoers, “You could always stay with me.”

You laughed lightly and responded, “That’s a hard pass.”

The Cavalry Captain simply shrugged, offering it to you again if you changed your mind before grabbing another glass of wine and walking with Jean toward the busy table.

Barbara was trying different dishes and offering some to her older sister, spouting descriptions with medicinal purposes and flavors that compliment one another. Lisa was no better as Amber egged both of them on, completely sober as she continued to feast on the food laid before her. Other Knights of Favonius that you recognized were scattered about, enjoying the first truly peaceful night in the past few weeks.

“You are welcome to stay at the Dawn Winery, while you look for your brother.”

He relished in the sight of your smile.

“Thank you, Diluc.”

That was three months ago.

And since then you had been thrown into more of not your business but suddenly IS your business, business.

You remembered your last day before setting off from Mondstadt. The Knights of Favonius would surely call on you again and so you had quick goodbyes with Jean and Kaeya the day before. Venti was saved for last, a somewhat light-hearted and yet somber goodbye as he was the first and last person for you to see in Mondstadt.

But Diluc… How could you even start that conversation?

He was the lone wolf with a prickly reputation and an even worse sense of patience. You remembered the first time you even spoke to him, clipped words meant to get straight to the point. Not to mention that he was the first person to antagonize Kaeya, who was one of the few people you kinda trusted in the beginning.

It was not until the side adventures, the little quests you did one-on-one that you realized how much more there was to the edgelord that was Diluc.

Of course, he was still the strict type to focus solely on the mission.

But you realized more about why Diluc had come to be this way.

‘The uncrowned king of Mondstadt.’

As you worked together against the possible abyss invasion of Mondstadt, you poured over strategies and testing of his slime potion. And while slimes were not the hardest enemies to fight, he still complimented you on your form and appreciated your quick style with the sword.

You had a unique style, unlike Kaeya or anyone else of this world.

“Elegant, but deadly.”

You took that as a compliment.

And little by little Diluc opened up to you, cluing you into his personal history.

He and Kaeya were step-brothers, growing up together at the Dawn Winery. How he knew Jean since he was child and once served as her superior in the very organization he now despised. How he still has things to protect, to avenge. And while his description about what happened to his father was nothing more than a quiet stare, you were still grateful that he was entrusting you into his world.

You remembered Kaeya’s words as he discovered Diluc’s nighttime secret:

“I’m glad you’re working with an assistant.”

Kaeya’s tone may have come out scathing, but you knew better. Kaeya and Diluc used to be close, close enough to entrust their lives with one another. There was no doubt that Kaeya still cared about his brother, but with Diluc pushing everyone away….

Again, you were so appreciative that he chose to let you in.

When Kaeya finally left the bar, you turned to Diluc with a smile. “I think my work tonight earned me at least one glass of wine?”

That broke a small smile on his face, not the slight tilt on the sides or the wistful, far off look he got when he recalled something beyond your knowledge.

“Alright.” He waved over a nearby waitress, all of the customers tonight employees of the Dawn Winery. “Let’s take this up to the balcony, I’m going to close up anyway.”

“Oh?” Paimon’s squeaky tone somehow went up another octave in curiosity, “I just remembered I have to ask Venti something! Why don’t you two enjoy your date alone.”

She flew away before you could swat at her for her teasing words, blush apparent on your face. Diluc kept his flat face as he maneuvered things behind the bar, wiping at something before putting something in the below cabinet.

To your surprise, he handed you a bottle and two glasses, motioning with his head toward the second floor. Charles was among some of the ‘customers’ tonight, taking his usual spot behind the bar as Diluc stepped out.

You followed him wordlessly, walking up the steps and out the second-floor door closely behind him. He pulled out a wooden chair next to the table outside, you taking the seat underneath the stars as he plopped down alongside you.

“I thought the stars here in the city would get overcrowded by the lights.” You admitted, “But they’re beautiful even here.”

“Yeah, they are.” Diluc agreed, making you smile before turning to him.

“You’re not even looking at the stars.”

The pyro-user simply smirked, before looking up at the starry sky with you. You relished in the moment, glad to have some time alone with Diluc. Many had commented that the winery owner was so elusive, missing from the bar weeks at a time and unseen within the city walls. And yet here he was, enjoying the crisp air and a glass of wine with you.

“Thank you.” You started.

“Shouldn’t you be demanding thanks from me?” Diluc asked.

You laughed lightly, “Yeah, cause I’m sure that the abyss mage would have totally kicked your ass without me.”

Diluc had that slightly amused expression on, looking a bit more light-hearted as he turned to you with a slight tilt at the corner of his lips.

You continued, “I mean, thanks for entrusting me with your secret.”

Diluc paused, looking you straight in the eyes, probably to gauge your honesty. And he would concede that there was nothing else there. You wanted to be his friend, the first in a long time to have approached him without your own agenda regarding either the winery or his fortune.

In return, he poured you a glass of wine and replied, “You’ve long earned it.”

“Thank you, Diluc.” You took the glass and felt your heart flutter at the brush of his fingers. “I’m glad I got to know you.”

“I’m glad you’re in my life too.”

He shot you another one of his genuine, millisecond smiles before pouring some from the bottle for himself.

“Wine and not grape juice today?”

But he did not answer, instead eyes latching onto the rise of goosebumps on your arms. You could not help it against the crisp Mondstadt air, naturally feeling a chill at this time of night. Without a word, he shrugged off his outer coat, the thick black one he wore at almost all times of day, and rested it casually on your shoulders.

You muttered a small thanks as you snuggled into it. Diluc’s iconic dark coat, a complete contrast to yourself. While you wore a white dress with open sleeves and plenty of skin, Diluc wore black covering most of his body with the exception of his neck and face. Seeing it on your shoulders only reminded you of that fact.

“Don’t need you getting sick anytime soon.” Diluc stated plainly, as he returned to his seat.

You huddled into it more and replied, “Aw, Diluc cares.” Again, you were rewarded with another flat expression. “Or rather, if the events of today are to show anything, you’ve always cared. Just in your own, protective way.”

He slung an arm across the back of your seat, leaning closer before stating in a low voice. “Don’t forget that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, the both of you basically sharing the same breath in your close proximity. His scarlet eyes, usually a searing color when on the battlefield, looked surprisingly tender only inches from yours.

“You mean so much to me, Diluc.” You whispered back, afraid that anything above a whisper would punctuate this amorous atmosphere.

He slowly dragged his face alongside yours, stopping beside your ear and continuing in his low voice. “So do you.”

There was no stopping the shiver of anticipation that crawled up your spine.

You could feel the small smirk grow against your skin before he pulled off and grazed his lips against your forehead.

The expression on your face was practically begging him to kiss you. From the small lean in your side against his arm slung around you to the way your eyes slowly fluttered closed, it took all of his self-control to stop himself before he pulled you closer. He wanted nothing more than to grasp you by the back of your neck, relish in the way you melt against him. To kiss you now and tomorrow and maybe even the morning after at the winery.

Diluc had to remind himself that in less than a week you were going to be long gone.

He did not want to ruin this memory a week from now, asking what if and why. And so he settled on a simple kiss above your brow before leaning back in his seat, enjoying the moment he had with you tonight.

You were disappointed, but actually not surprised. It was a feat in itself that you were so close to Diluc in this short amount of time, it would do no good in pressuring him into anything else. But also, another more rational part of you, had to remind yourself that getting attached to the people of this world would only make it hurt more when you had to return home.

This was for the better.

But no matter how much rational thought Diluc used to push you away, you were sure that you had already fallen for him. From the small interactions with Diluc, you could barely recognize the moment that you were completely enamored with him. It was not during the first time you saw him fight or even the night he leant you his jacket. No, you feared it was much before then.

To think you had gotten attached to Diluc in such a short amount of time.

But then you had to say goodbye.

“Safe travels.” Diluc stated from behind the bar when he saw you enter on your last day.

You were not sure what you expected, a drawn out goodbye or a fore longed hug, but Diluc was still, well. He was still Diluc. And to see him re-erecting his walls before you left for your journey was a sad thought, but needed while the two of you were hundreds of miles away from one another.

But you would regret it if you didn’t say anything.

Instead you settled on, “I’ll miss you.”

The hopeful look in your eyes spelled out exactly what you wanted to hear back.

Diluc instead replied, “You fight good.”

“Oh. Um.” The hesitation was clear in your voice.

Was this really how you were going to leave things?

But with Diluc turning his attention back to the wine glass he was previously wiping, yes. It seemed that this was exactly how he wanted to leave it. Paimon scoffed, but said her own goodbyes before flying away.

“Goodbye, Diluc.”

Outside the tavern, you let your frown grow at that interaction. After everything you had been through together, Diluc complimented you on your fighting? Then said peace out?

“That was really lame.” Paimon commented aloud as she floated alongside you. You could not help but internally agree, but you had a whole journey ahead of you. At least the busyness of Liyue would keep you busy from dwelling on that conversation.

But as you said goodbye to Venti, the both of you stood in silence under the giant tree staring at the city. You thought about going back three times, to get a proper goodbye out of Diluc. But doing so would do neither of you any good, since it would only open more issues.

“No more questions about the other Archons?” Venti asked, voice surprisingly serious.

“Can’t think of anything.”

“None even of a certain… winery owner?” You could almost hear the smile in his voice.

You rolled your eyes and responded, “You’re such a little shit.”

“Hehe.”

You both continued to stare at the city, the marvels of its people and history within its high walls. To think Barbatos and Dvalin were finally free, because of your otherworldly intervention. Venti was truly thankful for you, and while he knew his words were on the more mischievous side, he knew that you understood.

Venti’s voice permeated the air. “Be safe in Liyue.”

You smiled back and offered him a tight hug, replying. “As always.”

To think that the same day that you stepped into Liyue, Rex Lapis was murdered before your very eyes. It was like the Gods actually hated you, having to rely on a Fatui to run away from the government officials hot on your trail.

Since then you had been working with Zhongli to prepare for a parting ceremony. From running around for certain types of Jade materials to singing to flowers, you were happy to take a second to yourself at all. You were afraid that trouncing around Liyue with a bounty on your head would do you no good and often stayed in the wild areas. Visits to the city were for necessities only, which often left you relying on the ever so truthful Childe or the mora-averse Zhongli.

More than three months after your initial departure to Liyue, you stepped back into the walls of Mondstadt’s bustling city, a commission nearby and you figured you were safe simply due to your reputation under the Knights of Favonius.

Venti was the last face you saw and the first face that greeted you, beckoning to join him for lunch. With your final commission of the day finished, you joined him with a smile and ordered some honey roasted ham.

You recounted some of the news to Venti, meeting many of the adeptus and how out of touch they seemed with the region. You described Zhongli from the funeral parlor who always felt like he knew more and played a higher part in Liyue (and you inwardly noted how Venti’s eyes lit up in recognition at the name). And also, Childe the Fatui Harbinger that had you on edge.

“You’re hanging out with a harbinger?” Venti asked.

“Uh oh.” Paimon reacted.

“Well.” You remembered your last encounter with Signora. “It’s complicated.”

Venti paused before sighing, “Is he cute?”

“That’s not why!” You huffed back instantly.

“So he is cute!”

“And rich!” Paimon added, joining in on the teasing.

“Not the issue here.” You stated, “He saved me from the Millelith and helped me get into contact with the adepti.”

Venti’s mischievous smile from the earlier teasing turned blank, as if he was fully ingesting your words. “... Why would he do that?”

“Huh?”

But Venti quickly recovered, waving away the question and urging you to move past it. “Just thinking out loud, continue. What happened after?”

And so you recalled everything from then. How the soldiers followed you all the way up the mountain and how you had to defend yourself from people that were supposed to be on the same side as you.

How there was someone out there with the strength to take down a God.

Venti laughed at you for like, twenty minutes.

After his laughter subsided, he held a hand over his stomach and asked. “They think you killed Rex Lapis?”

He took another look at your pouting face and laughed again.

It only made you scowl further. “I’m glad you think my supposed war crimes are so funny.”

“I think I’m missing the punchline again.” Paimon added.

“Hehe. You’ll be fine.” Venti shot back his mischievous smile, “Besides, I’m sure you’re looking forward to laying low here with a certain… someone here.”

You paused and put your fork back down, “What are you trying to say?”

“Well, the Dawn Winery is throwing a festival tonight.” Venti stated clearly, “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Wait, really?”

The mischievous light was back in Venti’s eyes, “I’m sure the winds of fate have brought you here purely on coincidence.”

You sighed and turned to him fully. “You trying to fight, old man?”

“Hehe.” His signature giggle, one you found almost endearing, was undoubtedly mocking you. “We should go together later.”

And true to his word, somehow you found yourself with the Anemo Archon heading over to the bar. To think that it was Venti who introduced you here and now he was bringing you along again.

That is, if you even had a chance to make it inside at this rate.

The area was packed to the brim, all the seats outside in front and on the side of the building already taken. There was a line out the door, many hopeful young women with gleaming eyes trying to get a one-on-one conversation with the current barkeep and owner.

You peered into the open door and saw Diluc and Charles behind the bar, the red-head adorned with his usual flat-expression. It was the first time in months since you had seen him, but he looked exactly as the day you had left. Still the same colored wardrobe and prickly atmosphere, Diluc was still, Diluc.

What did not help was the ever growing line of flirty men and women trying to vye for his attention.

It only seemed to further nail the pit in your stomach.

Was this… jealousy?

You didn’t dwell on the thought for long.

Instead, you considered for a single-second if you should just turn tail now, but Venti must have seen your hesitation and grabbed you by the arm to walk inside. Dozens of eyes followed you on the way in, many people recognizing you as the young hero of Mondstadt and honorary knight of Favonius.

The crowd was surprisingly less inside, but knowing Diluc he probably would have tried to corral everyone to the outdoor areas. Venti continued to lead you towards a table in the back and you saw a familiar red-bowed Outrider.

“I didn’t even know you were going to be here today!” She greeted you excitedly.

“Tone-Deaf Bard here convinced us to stay the night.” Paimon replied.

“Oh?” Her voice lifted in a tone that only spelled trouble, “No matter, I’m glad to see you in one piece.”

“I��m assuming you’ve heard.”

Amber stretched in her seat and lowered her voice, smile turning to a smirk. “Well, I won’t confirm anything. But my suspicions are that the blonde person the Knights were pursuing for stealing the Holy Lyre may be the same blonde person running from the Millelith.”

“What a crazy theory.” Paimon responded as she cleared her throat.

“At least it’s just a theory, right?” Amber replied. “Anyway, we’ll hold the seats. Do you mind going up to the bar to order?”

Paimon chimed up as she floated down into the wooden seat, “Yeah, you should go.”

You barely had a second to object before Venti agreed and was motioning for you to go back to the bar. If not for their eager stares at you, you would have rolled your eyes at how obvious they were being.

“Fine, fine. I’m going.” You stated aloud, getting up from the seat you inhabited for at most ten minutes.

Turning towards the bar, you took in a deep breath to collect your thoughts. To think you fought the Wolf of the North and Oceanid with more courage - it was just Diluc.

“Long time no see.” You greeted, trying to sound extremely casual. “Bottle of wine for one of your favorite people?”

Diluc looked at you for a quick second, then back down to the bar, then rapidly snapping back up to you in surprise. “Hey. Of course.”

Unsure what to say, you responded back with a simple, “Thank you.”

“Didn’t know you’d be in town today.”

“It was all coincidence. Venti told me about your event tonight.” You mentioned, motioning behind you to the table where the three of them were waiting. Amber waggled her eyebrows in response and you turned back to Diluc in embarrassment.

But he was looking at you the entire time. “For a war criminal, you look well.”

“Ugh, not you too.”

“Ironic how you delinquents always return here while hiding it out.” Diluc did not answer, instead openly teasing you.

Honestly, it was a little ironic that you and Venti ran here after stealing the Holy Lyre, just to end up back here while the Millelith were on the hunt for you.

Instead you replied, “They didn’t release any names.”

“Right, it’s probably some other sword-wielding blonde with white clothes and access to the Anemo vision.”

“Obviously.”

To think you were so involved in Teyvat's politics. An otherworldly being with no prior connections to the people or nations was somehow involved with the highest ranking people of every country you’ve stumbled into.

Everyone from the Dvalin team knew about your primary objectives: to find your brother and regain your full power through the seven Archons. And when news of Rex Lapis’ death reached Mondstadt, Diluc could almost physically feel the dread in his heart that something had happened to you. And when the Millelith released their man-hunt of your exact profile, there was no doubt that you were involved.

To see you standing before him, in association with an Archon of all people, it was like a breath of fresh air on his heart. You were here in the tavern, fine and even enjoying the night.

A large part of him wanted to ask about your journey, what was it that had you on the run again? But with the growing line out the door, he knew he barely had time to keep this conversation going.

So instead, Diluc grabbed glasses and a bottle of wine from beneath the bar and asked, “Spare a few minutes for me later?”

You nodded quietly, handing him the necessary Mora before returning back to the table.

Amber did not pull her punches, “So, you guys dating yet?”

You almost dropped the bottle, but Venti was quick even through his laughter.

“Yeah and I’m the Archon of Snezhnaya.” Paimon replied sarcastically.

“Shut up.” You pouted, “It was just nice to see each other after all this time.”

“Oh so you had a good conversation? Did he ask you to stay after? Are you going to stay the night? Did he offer for you to stay at the Dawn Winery?” Amber spit out question after question, not a sense of patience or tact in her words.

Venti was still laughing like the Archon of assholes he was.

While they prodded through their multiple questions, you tried to wave them away to another conversation topic. If Amber was prodding you like this, you could only imagine that the other Knights, such as Kaeya and Jean, were also aware of your strange relationship.

Amber tried to push it a bit more, but you were able to spin the conversation to ask what the others were up to. It was interesting to hear about the little tasks in Mondstadt, small commissions that the Knights take care of in the city as well as guarding the areas further out into the country.

And while you hated to drift off with them sitting right in front of you, your mind often wandered toward the red-head behind the bar. Diluc had personally asked you to stay back later, undoubtedly to speak to you about something one-on-one. Would it be cowardly if you left early? Would the others notice if you tried to make a break for it at one point?

Again, it seemed as if Venti was capable of reading your mind, lightly calling you to attention and putting a casual hand on the back of your chair.

He was not letting you get away from this.

Venti even shifted the conversation to you, asking about Liyue and the local adventures you had while in the city. Unable to ignore the direct questions, you told them about the stories of the people you met so far and the strange events you seemed to be dragged into.

“Wait, start over.” Amber cut into your most recent story about a ship just outside of the Liyue city. ”You just glided down onto the Pearl Galley?”

You paused then replied, “Well. I mean the ship was just sitting there outside the harbor and I was curious.”

“And so you boarded a luxury ship without an invitation?”

“Yeah, so?” Paimon answered with a question, genuinely confused.

“And yet you wonder how you keep getting involved in all these crazy schemes.” Amber answered ambiguously.

“Well, eventually I did get an invitation.”

“But after you were already on the ship.” Amber pointed out. “How did you even glide that far out?”

“I climbed to the top of the nearby mountain and then just dropped down.”

“Wow.”

“Is it really a surprise?” Venti commented, “She doesn’t even follow the proper stairs here in the city. Don’t think we don’t see you climbing over every wall here in Mondstadt.”

“You’re such a weirdo.” Amber sighed with a smile, “You’re lucky we love you so much.”

You continued on with your stories, some in the city and others within hidden temples deep in the wilderness, puzzles and timed traps masking treasures you sought to find. Amber and Venti listened on in rapt attention, asking questions here and there and even teasing you about your constant climbing.

You hadn’t even noticed how the bar patrons were starting to slowly thin out.

The night with Venti and Amber was such a refreshing feeling compared to the nights you spent staring up silently at the night sky, only Paimon at your side. It was nice to hear and speak to other people, to not be on the run and always looking over your shoulder.

Feeling a light tap on the side, you turned to see Diluc standing at attention.

“Hey.” He greeted you again.

“We were just on our way out!” Amber exclaimed, standing instantly with Venti not far behind her. “Mondstadt’s star Outrider has to be up bright and early tomorrow.”

“Which is why you’re both leaving…?” You asked.

“It’s my duty to ensure the safety of the city and we said we were going to discuss something.” Venti answered ambiguously.

You crossed your arms, “Discuss what?”

“The— !” Amber paused, “The thing. You know, with the stuff at the Seven Winds Temple.”

“Right! Let’s get going.” Venti turned to Paimon at the last second, “I think this will interest you.”

Paimon winked at you before turning to Diluc, ”Right, the stuff!”

Diluc motioned you to follow him and so, once again, you found yourself following behind the Pyro-user out the second-floor balcony. However, instead of sitting at the table, you learned against the railing while Diluc stood to the side.

“Wasn't expecting you to be gone for so long.” Diluc started with a flat voice.

You turned to him with a slight grimace. “I’m sorry, I ended up getting caught in something important back in Liyue.”

More important than him.

The implication was quiet in the back of Diluc’s mind.

But that would always be the case. To think that the first person in years to open up his shell was someone who could only be in his life temporarily. You intrigued him to the high heavens - the strange mix of both pride and humility as you fought and carried yourself. You were strong, but merciful. Kind, but a purveyor of your own brand of justice.

It had been a while since he met someone with such genuine reservations as you.

But your time together was already ticking down, from your time in Mondstadt to your time in his world. You were looking for your brother and who knew if he was even in Tyvat currently? It would be unfair to be bitter towards you. And so he resolved long ago to simply cherish the moments you had together.

So instead of snapping back, Diluc teased you.

“I’m sure. I’ve heard of your extensive… wanted days.”

You sighed aloud, “How did the news travel here so fast?”

Diluc smirked, “First Barbatos and now Rex Lapis? What kind of luck do you have?”

“The worst kind.”

Of course, there was something he wanted to learn more about. After he had caught wind from Katheryn in Liyue, Diluc still wanted to be informed about your current situation. To think that you were in close association with one of the high Fatui Harbingers after Signora personally attacked you, it was almost like you were openly inviting trouble.

It also did not help that many of the gossip mills included how attractive this particular Fatui was.

He goes by the alias of ‘Childe.’ Young, but deadly!

A Fatui, but doesn’t wear his mask - for good reason! He’s quite the looker.

I wouldn’t mind if he impaled me somewhere. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Needless to say, his sources did not alleviate his worries.

Of all people? A Fatui was one of your close associates in Liyue? A party of him wanted to snarl, the thought a worse downgrade from the Knights of Favonius. At least he knew Kaeya would do you no harm; he doubted the same could be said about Childe.

Archons, why did he care so much?

Diluc told himself multiple times that your abrupt parting was necessary to keep himself from getting too attached to you. But it hardly mattered when he was worrying this much anyway in spite of that.

Fuck, why did he just let you walk away like that?

Diluc was not going to make the same mistake.

He turned to you and asked, “Like the Fatui kind?”

You sighed, “Believe me, I don’t like it either.”

“And yet somehow here we are.”

“It’s complicated, okay?”

“When is it not with you?” Diluc asked, more hypothetically. And while from anyone else, it may have felt offensive, you could tell from his tone that it was just a tired sigh.

“Tell me about your journey.” He continued.

“What?” You answered with a question, genuinely surprised. “It’s a long story, not all that interesting.”

Diluc took a step forward, taking the spot next to you against the rail as your shoulders touched. “I want to hear it from you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, “Okay.”

And so you recounted your journey to find the Geo Archon, how the adepti set up strange puzzles and at some point you swore you were pulled into a teacup that somehow contained a full domain.

There were also other missions on the side, other things you would do to collect Mora or materials if you were going to get any stronger. Some of them made sense — doing deliveries, clearing abyss camps, and other mercenary like duties. Other instances, not so much.

“Only you would accept a commission from a ghost.” Diluc teased as you recounted the treasure in the mines.

“In my defense, I didn’t think he was a ghost at first.”

“Right. Nothing suspicious at all about a transparent old man in the middle of an abandoned village.”

“I was reading the poster he was showing!”

“And when did you realize he was a ghost?”

“... After I met three other ghosts.”

Diluc cracked a smile at that, only making you pout more. You had adjusted your postures overtime, standing against with rails to your backs as you faced the tavern.

“He paid me good Mora!”

“How…?” Diluc thought about it before waving it off, “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

You laughed back before you saw the lights inside the tavern switch off, complete darkness in the windows as the remaining employees packed up and went home.

“Oh wow, I hadn’t even realized how long we were out here.” You admitted, “I’m sorry I took up so much of your time.”

“Don’t apologize. I wanted to spend this time with you.”

“Still, it’s already late.”

“You’re right. Where were you and Paimon going to spend the night?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” You admitted, “Venti convinced us to stay, but I don’t even know where he is.”

Diluc pushed off the railing to stand facing you, “You could stay the night at the winery. We can retrieve Paimon tomorrow.”

What game was he playing? Your disappointing departure with Diluc cutting you off and now he was asking for your time and space back into his life? You hated that he pushed you away just to pull you back in at his convenience. And while you understood his personality tended to keep people at a distance, you had your own limits as to what you could withstand.

“... Diluc, what are you doing?”

“You’ll have to be more clear.”

You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and hamper down on your rising temper. “Come on, why are you being so nice to me?”

He stared at you expectedly, blank eyes urging you to continue.

It only served to make you more angry.

“Diluc, when I left you hardly blinked. And now that I’m here, after months of us not talking, you want me to spend the night?”

“I told you before how much you meant to Mondstadt.”

To Mondstadt? Not even to himself personally?

You decided it was better to confront him cleanly asking, “Why didn’t you kiss me that night we were drinking here?”

Diluc paused, not a single hint of surprise on his face as you addressed the situation head-on. “Why should I have?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t feel it. There was something between us.” You scoffed.

He noticed your use of past tense.

“Does it honestly matter? You would’ve left anyway, I saved us both the trouble.”

You visibly recoiled in response. “Is that what this is about? I have to go to Liyue and the other counties, Diluc. I have to find my brother.”

“I know that.” Diluc cut in, before you got the wrong idea. “You don’t think I’m acutely aware of that fact? The fact that this is my home and not yours. That one day you’ll find your brother and I’ll never see you again?”

“Wait.”

“Believe me, I know better than anyone that you’re off to find your brother. And I’ll help you in any way that I can.” Diluc continued, not heeding your confused attempts to stop him. “But let’s not pretend like I was anything more than a stepping stone in your journey.”

“That’s not true!”

“Oh?” Diluc’s tone was almost challenging, “It’s not? So once the dust is settled, if I asked you to stay here with me, would I be enough?”

You stuttered over your words, “I --”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse because we both know the answer.” He cut you off, “I was trying to save myself from that before it happened.”

“Will you let me speak, you idiot!?” Your voice cut through the silent evening air.

Diluc paused, standing a good ten feet away from you and looking angrier than you’d ever seen. But he did, thankfully, stop talking.

“Is it crazy to think that I feel the same way about you?”

“What?”

“Diluc, I’m just me!” You answered, “I have nothing to my name but an objective to find my brother — if he’s even alive at this point. I need to try and I need to continue on this path…”

He crossed his arms, but stayed quiet as he listened.

“But just because I have so much ahead of me, that doesn’t I don’t care about where I’ve already seen.” You took a few steps toward Diluc as you spoke, “You mean so much to me and I wouldn’t ever want to throw that away.”

“You won’t have a choice if you have to leave this world.”

“If!” You pointed out, “Diluc you’re so worried about the future, about me walking away from you forever, but it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“And suddenly there’s an alternative?”

“There’s always been one, you idiot! You just never bothered to actually talk to me.” You put your hands on his chest, the light material of his dark clothes underneath your palms. “I would’ve tried. If you asked me to make this work, to come back to you at the winery back then, I would’ve done it.”

Diluc closed his eyes, taking in your words as his hands snaked down to your wrists.

“Don’t give me empty promises.”

“I mean it!” You defended, “You aren’t just another person, Diluc. I—“

He opened his eyes then, reflecting back to you as hopeful and curious. “You…?”

“I care about you more than you know.” You settled on, still unsure about the extent of your feelings. “Why are you giving up on us before even starting?”

You stared right back at Diluc, his silence paramount to the inner turmoil you were sure he was going through. From his late father to the betrayal from the Knights, there were plenty of reasons why Diluc was so hesitant to connect with other people.

But you’d be damned if you didn’t try.

Your hands felt heavy against his chest. Despite your small demeanor and even smaller palms, the weight of your hands seemed to play seesaw between his heart and mind. He had logical reasons to keep you at a distance, but here you were trying to carve your way through back to him.

It had been a long time since he cared about anyone like this. And Diluc could not even recall the last time he wanted to sorely kiss someone at all. But how could he not want to now? You stared up at him, eyes blazing with determination as you tried to convey your feelings.

“You mean so much to me.” Diluc stated after a few silent minutes, “Let’s make this work.”

The smile you shot him was wide and radiant, a private blessing that only he was gifted tonight. He wrapped his arms around your waist, eager to feel more of you — to envelop you in his arms and keep you within them tonight.

One hand strayed upward, carding itself in your hair and pulling you closer until both your eyes fluttered closed. The soft skin of your lips slotted against his, an endearing frenzy to give one another tender pecks. You could not help the happy mewl that escaped your lips as Diluc licked against the crease of your skin.

Moaning aloud to his tender touch, Diluc was eager to explore every inch of your wet cavern. There was no battle of tongues, simply moving in tandem as Diluc dominated the kiss. You tried to maneuver to give him more access, but with your height difference it was the best you could do.

Diluc lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist and lightly tapping the other to do the same. Eyes clouded with lust, you did as instructed and quickly felt the soft thump behind you, the wall of the tavern helping hold you upright.

You fell more and more into the passionate lip lock, pushing to match his intensity as Diluc connected you in one of the most intimate ways possible. One hand was still in your hair while the other continued its scandalized trail downward.

You prayed to Barbatos that nobody heard you outside the tavern.

The both of you would later attribute this impassioned frenzy due to the prolonged time apart and mutual pining (culminating in a mistake outside on the balcony, twice inside the bar, and the rest of the night back at the winery).

For the first time, you enjoyed the morning sun streaming in through the windows, a lazy arm strung across your waist as you snuggled in the chest of the man you were growing to love.

Diluc woke long before you, hand threading through your hair silently as he resolved to remember this moment. You kissed at the naked skin of his chest twice before nuzzling him, feeling the light arm pull you closer.

“Good morning.” You started, voice muffled against his skin.

But you would have never expected Diluc to be so affectionate.

He kissed the top of your head, murmuring in a low tone. “Good morning, my love.”

Nothing about your relationship was perfect. You still fought and cried like every other couple. But you both knew that what you had was real, willing to fight for it no matter the obstacles that came with the future.

It did not matter that Tyvat was not your home.

Wherever Diluc was, that was where you’d return.

---xXxXxXxXxXx---

Extra: “What if they end up fighting?” Amber asked the other two as they walked down a side-street of the city.

“Then we’ll find out the moment it breaks out. Trust me.” Paimon replied. After all, your Anemo power would only serve to make any fire larger.

“They’ve both been in that pining puppy phase for so long, I doubt it’ll come down to that.” Venti added.

“500 Mora says they’ll be dating by the end of this week.” Amber bet.

“1,000 that they’ll be together by tonight!” Paimon countered.

“10,000 that they’ll be joined in every way by tonight.” Venti added, the mischievous tone not missed by either woman.

“You tone-deaf bard!” Paimon exclaimed as she slapped her hands over her red cheeks. “The traveler is more dignified than that!”

Amber had a hand on her chin, “Dating? Probably. But more than that…?”

Venti held out a hand to both, vying for both to shake one and accept the bet.

Nothing, but a couple of suckers.

Amber grumbled once when she heard the news, but otherwise excitedly congratulated you two on finally accepting your feelings. Paimon’s whine could probably be heard in a fifteen mile radius and Venti’s proud smile didn’t help either — accepting the easiest twenty thousand Mora he ever made.

And, just to gode the tiny guide a little more, Venti turned to Paimon in the middle of her complaining rant.

“Hehe.”

---xXxXxXxXxXx---

A/N:

The festival idea comes from Diluc’s story 1: “The winery holds festivities from time to time. These events are routinely attended by enthusiastic fathers, eager to introduce their wonderful daughters to the young and single winery master.”

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osakaso5 · 3 years

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IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 6: Wishing

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Sogo Osaka: Tsunashi-san, thank you for bringing us to this limited edition Rabitty-kun shop.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It's no trouble at all, really! I never got to play with a Rabitty-kun, myself.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I was planning to come check this place out for the show anyway, so I'm glad you two could tag along.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Thanks for sending us the photo from when you were little, too! Me and So-chan were super hyped about it!

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ahaha! It's a little embarrassing, considering what a country bumpkin I must've looked like.

Tamaki Yotsuba: You looked cute standing on the beach, almost like a girl.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Huh..!? Nobody's ever told me that before! I've always been tall for my age...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okay, maybe not like a girl, but your arms and body were all skinny and stuff. What do you call that again? Slendy...

Sogo Osaka: Slender.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah, that. You had the same face, but you weren't all buff.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh, okay! I didn't know that's how I looked... What did you think, Sogo-kun?

Sogo Osaka: Um... How should I put this...

Sogo Osaka: It... It was more than I could bear.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: .........

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, you sound like a creepy old man!

Sogo Osaka: No, I didn't mean it in a weird way! I've juat never had a taste of such a different type of Tsunashi-san..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Taste...

Sogo Osaka: Uh... Maybe "taste" isn't the right word for it, but it was very satisfying to see..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Satisfying...

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, you gotta stop it with the big explanations and be more casual! Call it cute, or nice, or something!

Sogo Osaka: Nice! It was nice! Very nice!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ahaha! Thank you!

TV on Shop Window: ...The secret to Rabitty-kun's birth!

TV on Shop Window: Who would've thought our famous mascot had such a story behind him!?

TV on Shop Window: Look forward to our 6th Anniversary Rabitty-kun! Toi toi toi~♪

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah, here it is.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Wow! They've got Rabitty-kuns in all kinds of colors! I wanna go touch them!

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun, you must ask the clerks for permission first...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: It looks like these are samples. Go ahead and touch them.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'll go with this one first...

Red Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Hold me!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Whoa! It's so cute!

Orange Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Pet me!

Hot Pink Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Yawn... Let’s go to bed!

Sogo Osaka: You're right... They're really cute.

Grey Rabitty: Ooh ooh! Tyt ty tyt ty ty ♪

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah, this one seems to be singing something!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Wow! Where do you push to make it sing? Is it here?

Turquoise Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! That tickles!

Sogo Osaka: Maybe it's here?

Yellow Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Dum dum dum dee dum ♪

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah, it danced! So-chan, let go of it! It's trying to dance!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I'll make this one dance with it!

Dark Red Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Chaka chaka chan chan ♪

Tamaki Yotsuba: Awesome! This is so much fun!

Sogo Osaka: They're so energetic.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I think you're supposed to feed these carrots to them? Go on, Tamaki-kun, give it a try.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okay! I'm gonna give one to this guy...

Green Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Nom... nom... nom... Yummy~!

Tamaki Yotsuba: It ate! What about this one?

Rosy Brown Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Chomp, chomp, chomp! I want more!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ahaha! This one eats a lot!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Hmm..? Look, they have a guide to exchanging defective toys.

Sogo Osaka: There were malfunctioning toys mixed in with the ones they released a few years ago. It says they'll exchange those for working ones, free of charge...

Sogo Osaka: Maybe these samples are the defective toys... But how exactly are they malfunctioning..?

Navy Rabitty: Ooh... ooh... Help.. me...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Holy crap!!! Why's this one so creepy..!?

Pink Rabitty: Oh, ooh... Don't... leave me...

Ivory Rabitty: Oh, ooh... You... saw..?

Pale Green Rabitty: Oh, ooh... Ehehehe... Eehehehehe...

Sogo Osaka: These ones are definitely defective..!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: They're awful..! Why would anyone make them like this..? The poor kids who had these must've been terrified...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah, seriously! If I had to sleep with one of these, my mattress would be all soggy the next morning!

Sogo Osaka: You'd wet the bed?

Tamaki Yotsuba: So what if I would!? And I don't mean right now, I mean if I was still little!

Sogo Osaka: If you were little, then it's not something you could control much, anyway...

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah, why don't we take a break from these Rabitty-kuns, and go look at those ones instead?

Tamaki Yotsuba: What..? "Face three Rabitty-kuns against each other, and they'll go into gossipy teenage girl mode".

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: "Gossipy teenage girl mode"..?

Lavender Rabitty: Oh. Em. Gee. I think my nail just broke.

Light Blue Rabitty: It's gonna be 36 degrees today. Lame af.

Ocean Blue Rabitty: I'm like, low key freaking out about this test tho.

Sogo Osaka: ......... I guess they don't do the "ooh, ooh" thing in this mode.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, they've got an "office workers in an elevator" mode, too.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Apparently they have a Showa-era small talk version as an extra rare option, too.

Sogo Osaka: Do children really play with modes like this..?

[Phone rings]

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yukirin's calling me... Hello!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Huh? Seriously!? You guys found the uncle who took my picture already!?

Sogo Osaka: What!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I knew that legendary detective could help..! Okay! Thanks!!!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Guess what! They said they found the guy!

Sogo Osaka: That's great, Tamaki-kun!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: What business did you have with a legendary detective?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I need a photo from when I was little, so I was looking for this uncle who took a family portrait of us.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Oh, I see...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Awesome! Now I get to show off my picture, too!

Sogo Osaka: I'm happy for you.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Let's take another picture you can show off. I want one of the face you're making right now.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Right now?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Yeah. Your smile is so nice, I want us to have something to remember it by. Come on.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ehehe... This is a little embarrassing, but I'm still super happy! Thanks, Ryu-aniki!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Thank you, too!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah... So-chan, wanna be in the pic?

Sogo Osaka: Me?

Tamaki Yotsuba: You found your photo, too. We can both show Ryu-aniki how proud we are. Right, Ryu-aniki?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Of course! I'd love for you to be in the picture too, Sogo-kun.

Sogo Osaka: A-alright.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hurry up!

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Stand next to each other. Laugh on three. One, two, three...

MEZZO": Ahahaha!

[Snap]

- - - -

Sogo Osaka: I'm glad your family photo will be found soon.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Me too.

Sogo Osaka: I'm sure Aya-chan would be happy about it.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah. I'm glad you'll get you and your uncle's photo, too.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Is it gonna make it to the show, though?

Sogo Osaka: It will. I'm flying to pick it up at our nearest yacht harbor tonight.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Tonight? You gonna be okay?

Sogo Osaka: I'll be fine. I have tomorrow off, anyway.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Apparently my pic's coming in the mail. Ah...

[Rainfall]

Tamaki Yotsuba: It's raining.

Sogo Osaka: ...Not to mention the wind is really strong all of a sudden.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Can your plane leave in this weather?

Sogo Osaka: I... I think so. But I should hurry to the airport, and you need to get back to the dorm...

[Thunder]

MEZZO": Ah...

MEZZO": ...A blackout..?

- - - -

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I'm home. And completely soaked.

Kaoru Anesagi: Here's a towel. Take off your socks, shirt, and pants. There's a hot bath waiting for you.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: You're here too, Anesagi-san?

Gaku Yaotome: There was a power outage until just a minute ago. Apparently some parts of Tokyo are still dark.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: What!? That sounds bad.

Gaku Yaotome: It's not the only bad thing here. Your bath's a little too hot...

Tenn Kujo: Hot as in, practically boiling. Want to go take a dip?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Thanks.

Tenn Kujo: What is that?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Ah... They're gifts for you and Gaku. I thought the Rabitty-kuns were too cute not to buy any.

Gaku Yaotome: Ahaha! Fair enough!

Tenn Kujo: I'm getting all nostalgic.

Ocean Blue Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Hold me!

Kaoru Anesagi: Gosh, how adorable. I'll take care of you, little one. Come here.

Ocean Blue Rabitty: Ooh, ooh! Rat tat rat tat ♪

Kaoru Anesagi: Heh, it's singing.

Kaoru Anesagi: Hey. Does any one of you know why Rabitty-kun says "ooh, ooh"?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I don't Is there some bigger reason for it?

Kaoru Anesagi: Apparently it's based on a child's imitation of a famous sweets mascot.

Kaoru Anesagi: Which one was it, again? The one with a crown, a closed mouth, and an overall neutral expression...

Tenn Kujo: A crown..? Doesn't ring a bell.

Kaoru Anesagi: It's right on the tip of my tongue, I swear. It's still around, too, and you see it everywhere. It's also got a ribbon, I think...

Gaku Yaotome: Mascots with ribbons are a dime a dozen.

Kaoru Anesagi: Sometimes flames come out of its back, and it punches things. Sometimes it gets so emotional, it starts spinning fast. Ugh. I can picture it in my mind, but I just can't remember the name.

Kaoru Anesagi: In any case, it's something that originates from before the CEO of Toi Toi Toi was making the kind of profit he is today.

Kaoru Anesagi: He tried to turn his parents' business into a toy shop, but he just couldn't make it succeed.

Kaoru Anesagi: Apparently that's when he saw one of the neighborhood kids mimic the mascot I was talking about.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: And that kid was the basis for Rabitty-kun?

Kaoru Anesagi: Yep.

Kaoru Anesagi: Apparently the kid said something along the lines of "His mouth is closed, so he probably talks like, 'ooh, ooh'!"

Kaoru Anesagi: Then the kid would start dancing while singing "ooh, ooh", and that was the blueprint for Rabitty-kun.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Wow..! I think it's really nice that Rabitty-kun was technically born out of a child's idea.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I'm sure the CEO must really like kids, too.

Kaoru Anesagi: From what I heard, he's had a rough life. He was separated from his sibling, and when they reunited, he had to fight the reason for their separation...

Gaku Yaotome: Fight..? I can't even imagine what that might entail.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Everyone has something going on.

Tenn Kujo: How did he and his sibling reunite?

Kaoru Anesagi: Their parents were photographers, and they both just so happened to have a photo that proved their relation.

Gaku Yaotome: Maybe they kept each other's faces in a locket or something.

Tenn Kujo: There's no way it'd be something that cliché.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Still, I'm sure they were happy to see each other again.

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: Those two should be happily walking home right about now, too.

- - - -

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, wait up!

Sogo Osaka: I need to hurry to the airport. If the weather gets any worse than this, all flights might be cancelled.

Tamaki Yotsuba: There's a blackout, and you're soaking wet! What if you can't get home, and you catch a cold!?

Sogo Osaka: You can go home if you want...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Why are you always like this!? I swear, you haven't changed at all!

Sogo Osaka: .........

Tamaki Yotsuba: You seriously can't even ask me to come with you!? Grow a backbone already!

Sogo Osaka: ......... That's not why.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Then what is it!?

Sogo Osaka: It's not that I'm afraid of causing you trouble. I want to prove something to you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Prove what..?

Sogo Osaka: We may not have had the best lives, but we haven't done much bad, either.

Sogo Osaka: So... This isn't a punishment.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...So-chan...

Sogo Osaka: I'll go, Tamaki-kun. And once I'm back, I'll show off my picture, and you'll get to see what my uncle looked like.

Sogo Osaka: I'm... I'm going to treat this as an adventure. And I'm going to ward off any disasters.

Sogo Osaka: Because I learned that from you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ......... But...

[Toot toot!]

Tamaki Yotsuba: .......!? Someone got out of that car...

Mysterious Man: .........

Sogo Osaka: A masked man..!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: W-what do you want!? Stay away..! Ah..!

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun..! ...Don't you dare do anything to him..!

Mysterious Man: ........!

Sogo Osaka: .........!? You're...

[Tap tap tap]

Sogo Osaka: Ah..! Wait, please..!

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan!

[Wroom...]

Sogo Osaka: ...Are you alright, Tamaki-kun!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: That guy gave me this.

Sogo Osaka: A parcel... Did you see how he looked when he gave you this?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Dunno. He was wearing a mask and sunglasses, so I didn't really see anything.

Sogo Osaka: I see...

Tamaki Yotsuba: But, for some reason... I kinda didn't get a bad vibe from him.

Sogo Osaka: ......... Neither did I. He felt familiar, somehow...

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...What do you think this is?

Sogo Osaka: I don't know... Let's open it.

Tamaki Yotsuba: What if it's a bomb?

Sogo Osaka: ...I hear no ticking, but we should still be careful. Hand it over, I'll open it.

Sogo Osaka: There's no people around, probably due to the rain. You should stand back, too...

Tamaki Yotsuba: ........

Sogo Osaka: ...Or don't.

Tamaki Yotsuba: You sure?

Sogo Osaka: Yeah. We'll open it together. I'm sure we'll be fine, because of the rain.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...You sure it won't explode?

Sogo Osaka: It probably won't... In this kind of rain, any spark should fizzle out instantly. Though we can't be 100% sure.

Sogo Osaka: Besides, you're a good kid. If there's a higher power, then I'm sure the'd want to reward you, not punish you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...I don't wanna have nay more regrets. Are you sure this isn't stupid?

Sogo Osaka: I don't want any regrets, either. Which is why I refuse to act like a coward.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...Fine. Let's open it, So-chan.

Sogo Osaka: Yeah... Here I go.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...Maybe there's a fuse hidden in the paper..?

Sogo Osaka: ...This is oil paper, so it doesn't get wet in the rain... Ah...

Tamaki Yotsuba: It doesn't look like a bomb... What's that rectangular thing?

Sogo Osaka: ...It's a photo, and a card...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Card? What's it say?

Sogo Osaka: "Dear customer. Here are the pictures you ordered."

Sogo Osaka: "I can't thank you enough for the help you once gave my brother, so I've included your friend's photo, as well."

Tamaki Yotsuba: Wait... Could it be..?

MEZZO": The legendary detective..!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Is that how the guy knew where we were!? He wasn't a shady guy, he was a private eye!

Tamaki Yotsuba: But what does his brother have to do with me? And I dunno who the friend he's talking about is, either...

Sogo Osaka: ...Tamaki-kun, look...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Huh..?

Sogo Osaka: My uncle... This is the picture of my uncle and I. Look, here he is.

Tamaki Yotsuba: And a mini So-chan...

Sogo Osaka: ...Uncle... It's because I had him that I'm making music now.

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...So-chan... Look at my photo, too.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ta-dah! That's Mom, that's little Aya. And that's me...

Sogo Osaka: It's a tiny Tamaki-kun...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah. So what do you think? You can stop staring at your uncle, already.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hey. Say something.

Sogo Osaka: I think it's a wonderful picture. Your mother looks gentle, beautiful, and...

Sogo Osaka: ...I've finally had the chance to see her...

Tamaki Yotsuba: .........

Sogo Osaka: Tamaki-kun... It must've been so hard for you. But you're fine now.

Sogo Osaka: It's going to be fine...

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...Yeah...

Tamaki Yotsuba: You look like you had a rough time, too... Being in this stuffy place, wearing stuffy clothes. ...But at least you could still smile.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Hey, little guy. Believe it or not, but you're gonna be making music in a couple years. And I'm gonna sing your songs with you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So, it's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay.

Sogo Osaka: Yeah...

Sogo Osaka: Thank you, Tamaki-kun.

- - - -

Tsumugi's Thoughts: And that...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: ...Is how all 16 idols got their pictures, safe and sound.

- - - -

Mister Shimooka: Well then, it's about time we got Welcome to Kids' Room started!

Re:vale: OK!

TRIGGER: Alright.

IDOLiSH7: Yaaaay! Let's gooo!

ŹOOĻ: Yeah!

Mister Shimooka: It’s the moment of truth! We'll be taking a look at these idols' childhood pictures!

Mister Shimooka: But before that, it's time for our special guests!

Mister Shimooka: Please welcome the CEO of Toi Toi Toi, Jiro Ito!

Mister Shimooka: As well as the man who gave a loan to Toi Toi Toi when it was on the verge of bankruptcy, Taro Ito!

Sogo Osaka: Huh?

Torao Mido: Hmm?

Mister Shimooka: Let's give both of the men who made Rabitty-kun what he is an equally warm welcome!

Mister Shimooka: Here they come!

All: Ooh, ooh!

???: Hello. I'm the CEO of Toi Toi Toi, Jiro Ito.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah..!

Tamaki Yotsuba: That's the uncle who took our picture..!

The End.

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2021 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool #other translations

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chamomileteainabuttercup · 2 years

Text

Thoughts on The Book of Boba Fett Chapter 6

Well, we could get almost anything in terms of quality this week. Will we see Din, or has he fucked off into the background again? Will I have to tolerate the Mods? How are we one episode from the end of this season when so little has actually happened in the present timeframe? What has Boba named the baby rancor? Can we look forward to another appearance by renowned jizz musician Max Rebo? Let's see.

I just checked with me and I've officially given up hope of seeing Cobb Vanth, and that's mostly because there isn't time to do anything interesting with him, not without abandoning all sorts of other things that I accept should be given narrative priority because they were raised first (not because I find them more personally interesting than Cobb Vanth, hubba hubba). I will now relocate my hope for him to The Mandalorian season 3.

If the whole of Boba's show has just been used to set up the events of the next season of Din's show, well, Boba's a supportive friend and I love that about him, but it would be unfair and it would leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Presumably we will see more of Boba this week than just in the Previouslies. PRESUMABLY!

oh god I just thought of the worst thing

what if they kill Boba Fett and season 3 is among other things about Din avenging him

jesus why do I have to think of things like that

fuck that thought!

Temuera Morrison is hot

(that thought functioned as a palate cleanser)

we've got a shitty desert, we've got some goons in pixie hoods, we've got a Hamilton Beach ice cream machine full of... something

FUCK ME THAT'S COBB VANTH

oh jesus Cobb you have no armour you're practically nude and you're ALONE now I'm afraid YOU'RE going to die you're just going to be bumped off in the first minutes of the episode I have it paused in genuine dread please don't give me more and more bad feelings, show

ugggghhhhhhhhhhh

aw he's made up a meaning for his stripey belt buckle, that's adorable

I like how vague his boundary-drawing is, "out there" to "out there"

please be safe Cobb

incidentally how did Cobb get here

the pixie goons have a car, I don't see his bike or anything, he no longer has a jetpack enabling him to drop down from the sky, apparently he just approached them on foot in the open in broad daylight and they didn't notice until he talked.

Cobb, you are a diplomat

and they... demonstrated a lack of critical thought, given that the sexy cowboy was posing them no inconvenience and allowing them to depart unharmed

yes, retire, retire to a lovely little moisture ranch with your Mandalorian gentleman friend and live in peace and contentment (and abundant moisture)

WELL it's the opening titles AND Cobb is not yet dead! Superb!

okay, I realise that the spice is loose in a box that can be flipped open without even operating a catch to make it easy for Cobb to overturn it with his foot, but if spice is a valuable commodity, why is it loose in a box that can be flipped open without even operating a catch

do they not have plastic bags in space

no bras and no plastic bags

also we're seeing a lot more of Cobb's neck than previously - saucy

CHAPTER 6 - FROM THE DESERT COMES A STRANGER

bugger me days, that's Din Djarin

fucking seriously, if we don't get Boba for another whole episode, I will riot

I say this as someone who loves and cherishes both Din and Cobb

but Boba has earned this

anyway nice pointy hills

okay, there's Artoo, now why when finding a Jedi was such a production before can Din now just go directly to Luke's hideout? Did he stick a tracker on Grogu, like Spock sticking one on Kirk in The Undiscovered Country? Or are they going to retcon it to say that Luke did leave a forwarding address?

ugh I hope Luke looks better than he did last season

I say this as someone who loves and cherishes Luke Skywalker!

"Hello, friend," said Din Djarin to a droid.

okay, it is getting up my nose that this is apparently no quest at all, Din can just go right directly there. It's as if he could always have looked Luke up on Spacebook. I mean, did Cara or Fennec or Bo-Katan or someone else who actually watches the news tell him, "That dude who just took off with your kid is called Luke Skywalker, he lives on such-and-such planet"? (But if Bo-Katan knew Luke Skywalker was a Jedi and where he could be found, why wouldn't she have directed Din to him instead of to Ahsoka, who isn't taking pupils? Or as well as Ahsoka? So presumably not her?) Why am I having to do so much work to figure out how Din knows where to go, in all the vastness of space, to find some washed-up twink who didn't even introduce himself?

nice beetlebot

the robots are very cute, I am glad they know how to lay a drystone wall, it is a dying craft in many places

Artoo has activated his unhelpful little shit subroutine

once again, Din is wearily exasperated by whimsical bullshit

HE JUST WANTS TO SEE HIS BABY BOY

THERE'S A BABY BOY

okay yes, his face is not MOVING yet but so far Luke looks considerably better than last time

no eat froggy, Grogu - yes, I know, this is boring -

okay catch froggy with your evil powers! I like it!

Grogu's like "aw man, my last dad was fun."

levitate ALL the frogs

only in this way will you actually impress the little ratbag

he's just swooshing Grogu along, which is admittedly cute and solves the little legs problem

Luke, your hair is too brown. Please just get some Sun-In on that. You and Leia being twins doesn't mean you have to match.

Welcome back! You have not remembered what I, as an audience member, am most interested in - who the hell got you out of there and then lost you again

(maul maul maul maul maul maul)

"The galaxy is a dangerous place, Grogu." "No shit, Master Skywalker! Would you like to look at my memories of some of the things that have tried to personally eat me over the past year? How about the times I was shot at? Nearly burned alive? Drained of blood by a mad scientist? The time my dad yeeted himself into a dragon's maw and left me to be raised by a cowboy? The baby shackles?"

Ahsoka's there too? And Din doesn't have an obvious question for her like, "If you're an old friend of Skywalker's family, why did you just send me to a seeing stone instead of giving me a referral? Do you realise my baby got kidnapped by evil robots? And I met my BFBF (best friend Boba Fett), but that is beside the point."

At what point is Ahsoka supposed to have learned this?

What was the point of last season's quest!?

Ahsoka if you stonewall Din Djarin about seeing his baby so help me I will slap the blue and white thing off your head.

at least Din is asking one pertinent question

FUCK OFF AHSOKA look I'm sorry Ahsoka, we go way back, I love you, but STOP DADBLOCKING

HE CAN BE A FOUNDLING AND A PADAWAN AHSOKA IT'S CALLED BEING BICULTURAL IT'S CALLED HAVING A BLENDED FAMILY

STOP IT AHSOKA

you know what Din? It is okay to want to see him for yourself! You love him! It's a good thing! Balance between love and duty is possible and healthy!

bug OFF Ahsoka!

Din please find the self-esteem in your heart to tell her to bug OFF

jesus wept

and so Din just walks away LEAKING BLOOD FROM THE HOLE IN HIS CHEST WHERE HIS HEART WAS

and Luke LETS GROGU WATCH HIS FATHER FLY AWAY WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE TO HIM

LIKE HE'S BOBA FETT

OF WHOM THIS SHOW OSTENSIBLY IS THE BOOK

Grogu - kick his twink ass.

you know what I don't even care that he put him in a backpack, I'm surly now

fuck you Luke that jump was adorable

hey do you remember that Samurai Jack episode with "Not fly. Jump good"?

I love Samurai Jack

wasn't the greatest fan of the continuation/final short season because I didn't feel Jack needed a love interest/didn't find that particularly believable as how Jack in particular would fall in love BUT I am glad he got back to the past. (whachow)

for me the greatest example of who Samurai Jack was is the episode where he gets his hand stuck inside the magic orb imprisoning the fairy who could grant his wish to get home but if he uses that wish to get home she'll be trapped in the orb forever, and he has to have a big fight with only one hand usable, and at the end he just smiles at her gently and says, "I wish we were free."

I love Samurai Jack you guys (this time I didn't italicise it because the first time I meant I love the show Samurai Jack and this time I meant I love the person Samurai Jack)

remember when he infiltrated a rave wearing a Cat in the Hat hat

We are almost halfway through episode 6 of 7 of The Book of Boba Fett and I don't see BOBA FETT. This is a RIPOFF.

I LOVE GROGU BUT WHERE IS BOBA FETT

I'm bored

I wish I was watching Samurai Jack

or a show with Boba Fett in it

I mean Grogu's cute as hell no matter what I always enjoy seeing him but I don't need these time-chewing scenes of Luke giving him Jedi 101, I need to know what's going on with BOBA FETT and his friends Din Djarin and Fennec Shand

I DIDN'T ASK FOR THE AHSOKA AND LUKE SHOW

did you notice how apart from the very first scene the story of this episode appears to have nothing to do with its title

can you WRAP this shit UP

much like the Armorer wrapped whatever that is up

are you two going to even let him have the gift his father brought for him so he can KNOW he's still LOVED and REMEMBERED?

"so much like your father - who murdered many small children, in fact, Grogu's classmates"

DON'T LET THE BABY TAKE A NAP ON A ROCK IN THE MIDDLE OF A STREAM YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT CHILDCARE

and off she fucked, having contributed nothing of benefit and pissed me off to no small extent

okay at least we're back to Tatooine and Din, having checked off his side quest and once again emotionally seppuku'd himself, can go and see Boba

(hug hug hug hug hug hug)

Din just flies straight in through the open garage door without so much as a radio exchange about permission to land because this FORTRESS has no fucking SECURITY is this how KRRSANTAN GOT IN TO NEARLY MURDER BOBA IN HIS BED????????????

would have enjoyed hearing Din talk back in piggy grunts

FINALLY

TWENTY-EIGHT MINUTES IN

BOBA FETT

Fennec, if everyone in the room doesn't already know what you're recapping, you have bigger problems than Din can solve (and he might actually need this recap but isn't in the room yet)

I mean literally your team is Krrsantan, some misfit youths, two green piggy guys, a baby rancor and maybe Danny Trejo, I don't know if he stuck around.

okay so here's what I want

Din walks in

sees Boba with his helmet off all handsome and re-melanined and re-eyebrowed

sparkly filter and "Dream Weaver"

"This is the Mandalorian, Din Djarin" - when did he get there? Why is Boba apparently only noticing and acknowledging his appearance now?

with nothing more than a look and a nod and no visible emotion, when Fennec couldn't stop smiling at the sight of him

Din did you just volunteer Cobb's village for a fight again

I can't be mad, classic Din

that is a really good hood ornament

who the fuck is that inferior Rick Grimes-looking cowboy with a red scarf why does he get a close-up

(although it would be funny if red scarves are fashionable in Mos Pelgo because everyone admires Cobb)

ADORABLE TWINKLY-EYED SMILE FROM COBB

Temuera Morrison can twinkle his eyes like nobody's business, couldn't he have got a little eye-twinkle in the previous scene?

yep, Cobb is immediately impressed with the hot-rod, satisfying

and immediately asks about Grogu because he is a good egg like that

thank you, someone expressing sympathy for Din's loss (even if you did put it on the same level as an admittedly super cool suit of armour)

"more careful" says the man who faced down four armed pixie goons alone in the cold open

yes you can buy him a drink, you can also hold his hand and stroke his hair

oh, they're changing the town name (to what it was in the book that introduced Cobb Vanth)? just in between now and the cold open, when Cobb referred to it as Mos Pelgo?

"that's a city folk fight"

"See, that's what I like about you, Mando. That big smile of yours lets you get away with anything." I love you Cobb. I do.

BUT I'M STILL FUMING ABOUT THE SIDELINING OF BOBA FETT IN HIS OWN SHOW

he'll see what he can do, for you, because he loves you

now for a town meeting, I hope featuring authentic frontier gibberish

this is the stranger from the desert?

HEY JO

be safe Cobb be safe Cobb be safe Cobb

okay, the deputy can get shot, that's all right

HAT

CAD MOTHERFLIPPING BANE

shoot him and TAKE HIS HAT COBB

his hat looks a lot smaller than it did in the cartoons

the deputy continues to volunteer for a shootin'

Cobb cannot believe he hired this guy

srsly Cobb maybe Jo, who clearly has a good head on her shoulders, would be a better choice?

is it really sticking your nose into something to ask the name of someone who already knows your name?

at least people are talking ABOUT Boba Fett

BE SAFE COBB BE SAFE COBB BE SAFE COBB

Jo snipe him from the window!

Deputy I don't know what you think you are sneaking forward for but if Cobb gets shot because of you I believe I've mentioned I will riot

MY COBB NO

it looked like it hit his shoulder, it looks like maybe he moved a little? PLEASE BE ALIVE COBB

the subtitles are giving us some terrible extra dialogue like "Something's wrong with the marshal!" no shit, he just got shot!

well now I guess I have to riot

is Max Rebo in tonight?

WHY ISN'T THERE A SHOT OF MAX REBO

oh fuck they're doing a The Untouchables with a bomb in the camtono

SHIT

well now I'm glad if Max Rebo wasn't there

so now Luke lives in a stone beehive

I'M NOT INTERESTED IN YOU RIGHT NOW LUKE SKYWALKER

TINIEST CHAINMAIL TEESHIRT

MITHRIL VEST

Luke you manipulative turd

HE CAN CHOOSE BOTH

GROGU LOOK HIM RIGHT DEAD IN THE EYE AND TAKE YOUR BESKAR

GROGU THIS SCHOOL SUCKS THINGS WILL NOT END WELL HERE

DID

DID BOBA FETT EVEN GET TO SPEAK ONCE IN THIS EPISODE

THIS PENULTIMATE EPISODE OF THE SHOW THAT BEARS HIS NAME

WHAT THE FUCK MAN

and they're still throwing new cards on the table like Cad Bane

Okay I thoroughly enjoyed the Cobb Vanth scenes (other than the parts where I was paralysed by dread) but otherwise, WHAT WAS THAT?

did Temuera Morrison get injured or sick at some point during the shoot and large parts have to be rewritten around his availability?

okay me now, on behalf of Boba and to a certain extent of Cobb:

#the book of boba fett #book of boba fett #bobf #tbobf #the book of boba fett spoilers #book of boba fett spoilers #bobf spoilers #tbobf spoilers #boba fett #boba fett spoilers #spoilers #featuring a short break for how much I love Samurai Jack

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ackerfics · 3 years

Text

the parent trap — levi ackerman (ii)

part one | part three

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

—warnings: fluff (dad! levi) and an original character that was annoying to write

— summary: altair came home, only to find a thorn wedged in his little family.

— word count: 5.5k

— authors note’s: i finally have a sort of banner hhhhsdjwhd i figured that i should make one for every character that i’ll be writing in this blog so that i won’t run out of gifs. this is long overdue but i was writing this while having breaks from our backlogs the past week. happy reading !!

Levi Ackerman never liked waiting but when it comes to the only living memory he has of you, he was willing to stay under the harsh glare of the Sun’s rays.

He was only standing among the other people waiting for their family members and friends for about thirty minutes and he was already cursing California’s weather. He needed some rain once in a while. As he looked down on the asphalt, the white plane he was anticipating finally landed, the steps rolled down and various people started trickling out. Though his face remained stoic, Levi still craned his neck to get a glimpse of his boy (curse the people standing in front of him, making him realize he’s smaller compared to them), hair the same cut as him and a bright grin that matched the bright California Sun. Eight weeks was a long time and the sight of Altair Ackerman adjusting the duffel bag over his shoulder was making his heart melt.

Was his little boy growing so fast? Because Levi swore there was a new air surrounding his son, the older man watching Altair looking at him all star-struck.

With a small smile, Levi spread his arms wide and called out, “Come here, brat." He was already anticipating the barreling boy heading straight for him. With a grunt, Levi wrapped his son in a tight hug, lifting him from the ground and planting a kiss on his forehead. Weird, the little boy of eleven always whined about his kisses, saying that he was already nearing his puberty and that he didn’t need them anymore. Levi brushed the thought from his mind, thinking that Altair probably received the kiss because of homesickness, and placed his son on the ground.

A few seconds passed by and the young Ackerman only stared up at his father like he carried a thousand Suns on his shoulders. Tears were slowly building up in his eyes, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist and nuzzling his head against his father’s toned stomach. Levi smiled gently, placing one of his hands on Altair’s hair, ruffling it until they’re tousled. “You miss me that much, Al? Well, I kind of agree. Sending you off to the other side of the country was my biggest regret this summer.” When Altair looked up, Levi couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“So, Dad, how’s everybody at home?” Altair asked, staying close at his father’s side while the black-haired man wrapped his arm around the little boy’s shoulders. “How are Petra and Uncle Eyebrows doing?”

Levi had to hold back his small scoff of laughter. “Petra is fine, she’s doing a number on the house because you’re finally home. Eyebrows will be visiting tomorrow but there’s a package from him waiting for you in your room as we speak.” He pushed the button of his car keys, unlocking their Jeep Wrangler and walking away for a moment to place his son’s bag in the backseat. “In short, they’re great and they can’t wait to see you.” He glanced at his little boy, who was standing patiently, and instantly thought that the summer camp mellowed out his brazen personality. Nodding his head towards the car, the two of them immediately set off to their part of town. “A lot has been happening around here during the eight weeks you were away. So don’t be surprised at what you’ll find at the house when we go back home.”

“A lot has happened to me, too, Dad,” Altair stated, his eyes focused on the cityscape passing by. He turned to his father with a half-smile. “I feel like I changed to be a more rational person.”

“Wow, summer camp was a good thing for you, huh?” Levi answered, silver eyes on the road ahead. “To think you said that. You must be getting old. Please don’t, I much preferred you to be my little boy for as long as it will take. What got you thinking this way when you’re at camp?”

The little boy shrugged. “Nothing, it’s just, seeing you for the first time,” he saw how Levi glanced at him so he quickly picked up, “in a long while made me realize a few things, Dad.”

“Wow, you sound so grown-up. It’s almost like you’re a new person.”

Altair froze for a moment before laughing. “By the way, Dad, you look taller to me earlier, too.”

“You didn’t have to go there, brat.” A comfortable silence enveloped the father and son until, “Oh, I forgot to mention, there’s some Oreos in the dash. You’re probably hungry after the flight.”

The raven-haired boy didn’t think twice in opening the compartment in front of him, gleefully clutching the pack of Oreos his father bought for him. After thanking Levi, Altair stuffed his face with the decadent biscuits that the former couldn’t prevent his small laughs from coming out. His son was a tough cookie but when it comes to his favorite treats, he instantly turns into a gushing, excited kid his age.

It reminded him of you actually.

As the tall buildings turned into lush green sceneries, his mind drifted to the memories he always clung to at random times. This time was one of those random moments when his mind was filled with thoughts of you. The divorce hit him like a thick wall but he couldn’t deny that he agreed to it because he knew you were happier with that. Who knows? You could be married to another person in your home country and Levi didn’t have a clue, mainly because he had to put up this façade that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. He felt guilty seconds after telling Petra to take down any framed pictures of you around the house because he couldn’t fathom looking at your beautiful face again. But as they entered the emerald sea of tea trees, Levi played the memory of when you first met. It was by chance, really — he just happened to be at the same place at the same time with you during college. He remembered how you effortlessly carried yourself without a care, how you listened to your friend blabber about certain topics.

For some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

It was safe to say that Levi felt an arrow passing by his chest and suddenly, all he could think about is you.

“The plantation is absolutely breathtaking, Dad.”

Altair’s voice interrupted his thoughts, his eyes glancing at the little boy who was in a trance while staring into the tea trees. He slightly furrowed his eyebrows at the use of vocabulary. While watching his son grow up, he never once heard him exclaim his awe of things that way. There are exceptions, of course, but not that much. It almost sounded like how you would always describe Levi’s eyes, sending the gray-eyed man’s heart thumping in his chest at the mere thought of it. He tried calming down his fast heartbeat but to no avail as he kept picturing you with the softest eyes, feather-like hands, and voice suited for a lullaby that were always the subjects of his dreams at night. Those dreams were mainly the reason why he chose not to sleep, spending the early morning hours in the kitchen while indulging in his son’s favorite combination, which is disgusting but tastes so well together. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and responded a hum to what his son said.

“You sound like you haven’t seen the plantation in forever,” Levi joked, missing how Altair once again froze, the latter’s eye twitching as he squirmed in his seat.

“Uhm, I think it’s because I’m so used to tall trees the past eight weeks, Dad.” Altair laughed lightheartedly, dismissively waving his hand. “But,” he prolonged the word, “if there’s something at camp that stresses me out, I’ll just picture our plantation in my mind. It sort of gives me peace for a couple of minutes until a brat comes up to me, challenging my position as the fencing champion for one week.”

“A fencing challenge?”

“Yeah, Dad, he was pretty awesome,” Altair shrugged.

“So you made a friend?”

The little boy turned to the dark-haired man with an expression of disbelief. “Your tone sounds like you don’t believe me. Have you no faith in your son, Dad?”

Levi scoffed a laugh. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m genuinely curious about this brat you’re talking about and how he challenged you for the title of fencing champion in the summer camp. I don’t know,” he shrugged, one hand raised in the air, “does he even treat you well? Or was he scared because of how you look at people? You got that from me apparently. I just don’t want my brat being shunned by others, okay? I was actually worried the whole time you’re away. Worried for the people there, that is. Because they’re missing out on this amazing boy.”

The older Ackerman’s rambles made Altair chuckle. There was always something when his dad took off in the worried state — it made his heart warm and he couldn’t help but answer the main question posed by Levi. Altair hummed under his breath, eyes set on the roof of the car, phrasing his answer so that it wouldn’t reveal too much. Stuffing an Oreo in his mouth, he muttered. “Actually, he was courteous, Dad.”

The dark-haired man glanced at his son, shaking his head at how the crumbs clung to the side of Altair’s mouth. Taking one of his hands from the steering wheel when he saw they were the only ones driving under the canopy of trees, Levi reached out and quickly cleaned his son’s face free of Oreo crumbs. Going back to focusing on the road, he slightly smiled, voicing out his question, “'Courteous’?” Levi turned to his son, who was conspicuously grimacing and hiding it by eating another Oreo. “What, all of a sudden you’re so proper?” The man’s gray eyes flickered to his son’s fingers. Taking the boy’s hand, he examined them for a moment before going back to the road. “You’re still biting your nails, huh?”

Altair perked up, his voice becoming pitchy, covering it with a cough. “Dad, you noticed!”

“What do you mean by ‘noticed’? You’ve been biting them since you could chew. The number of times we had to tell you to stop is ingrained in my brain so why would I only notice that now?”

The onyx-haired boy turned his body so that he would be directly facing Levi. Blinking, he escaped his dad’s question with a, “But I’ve decided to stop it, Dad. I finally realized how horrid it is as a habit, Dad.”

“There you go again. ‘Courteous’, ‘horrid’. I’m pretty sure I didn’t send you to finishing school.” Levi smiled. “And why do you keep saying ‘Dad’ in every sentence? Not that I don’t like it but I just noticed it since your plane landed.”

Altair chuckled lowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was doing it, Dad.” When Levi made a full laugh, the little boy grinned. “So sorry, Dad.” The two shared a few laughs before Altair cleared his throat. “Do you know why I kept saying ‘Dad’? You want the truth?”

“’Cause you missed your old man so much?”

A sad smile painted the gray-eyed boy’s lips, making sure that Levi didn’t turn his head to catch his melancholic mood. He chose to look out the window to avoid tearing up while staring at his father’s side profile. “Exactly. It’s because my whole life,” he cursed at the slip-up, “I mean, you know, for the past eight weeks, I was never able to say the word ‘Dad’ at all. Not even once. If you ask me, a father is an irreplaceable person in a kid’s life. The friend who challenged me to a fencing competition had no father to take care of them, to see them take their first steps or hear their first words. It got me thinking that there are probably kids my age who didn’t see their fathers even once, let alone call someone ‘Dad’. I mean, there’s this whole day dedicated to celebrating all the fathers in the world. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, Dad. I couldn’t imagine not saying ‘Hi, Dad!’ or ‘How’s the tea shop, Dad?’. Something will always be missing if I didn’t have you.”

Levi’s heart melted, his insides turning into a gushing mess at the words of his son. He couldn’t even imagine his life without his little him, following around like a lost duckling when he was a toddler learning how to walk. He couldn’t imagine his days without his boy reaching his chubby arms just for him to lift his cuddly body in his arms. He couldn’t imagine his nights without reading a bedtime story to a drowsy Altair, eyes looking at him as if every story is worth listening to. The first part of Altair’s little monologue reminded him of the other bundle of joy that the nurse gave him when you gave birth all those years ago. He swore that day that he will shower equal love and affection on his two brats but it turns out, it wasn’t meant to be. The other half of Altair was far into the sea with you and there was a time that he wanted to visit, however, the strength never came into him. But for now, he was thankful that Altair got home safe and sound, no scratches and face lighting up with precious emotions.

“Holy shit.”

Levi laughed at the curse. “Now you’re sounding like your old self.”

Altair’s eyes widened at the arch welcoming the car to the estate. Your name was in bold letters, vines of vibrantly colored flowers making the entrance even more magical. The little boy glanced at Levi and he could see how the older man’s eyes turned soft at the name, his shoulders drooping slightly as if he finally entered into an ethereal place. Facing forward, Altair had a conclusion. Levi Ackerman, his father, is still very much in love with you, his mother. His insides were buzzing with excitement and he couldn’t wait to phone someone from across the sea at his discovery. The plan was coming together and he didn’t even start a thing.

The house was more than what was described to the gray-eyed boy. Every wall was covered with groomed vines, splashes of color can be seen because of the flowers growing between the greens. It looked like a manor in those romance movies he watched a few years back. A balcony above the main doorway overlooked the driveway and front yard. The air was so clean that the little boy rolled down the windows and took a deep breath, the therapeutic yet faint smell of tea wafting through the perimeter of the house. Without another word, Altair stepped out of the car once Levi parked it at the side of the front yard. His eyes were full of stars as he looked up at the two-story building in front of him, the maroon of the bricks and the green of the vines calming his pounding heartbeat in the best way possible. A bark from the balcony made him crane his head, the fur of a golden retriever catching his eye.

He was finally here — he was home.

“Oh, my God, he’s home!”

A shout came from the inside of the house, shocking Altair from eyeing the canine on the balcony. He could faintly hear Levi snickering behind him as the older man took out his bag from the backseat of the car. A woman of short strawberry blonde hair was running towards him, under the arched front door, and then engulfing him in a warm hug with her thin yet firm arms. This must be Petra, his nanny and head maid of the household. He reciprocated the embrace, nuzzling his head on the woman’s neck. She smelled of spice and a hint of orange and Altair found himself craving some juice in an instant. Pulling away from the woman, he found out how pretty she is. Freckles dotted her cheeks, eyelashes framing warm brown irises, and a smile that can blind him at any second.

“Look at you!” Petra tried measuring Altair’s height with a hand, exclaiming, “Oh, you grew! We miss you so much!” Patting the boy’s shoulders with her hands, she leveled her stare with Altair. “Don’t you dare let your old man talk you out of going back to camp, okay? You need adventure every once in a while.”

“Okay.”

“You hungry?”

Altair shrugged with a smile.

“I made cornbread, chili, and I squeezed some orange for some juice, too.” Petra noticed how Altair kept staring at her with a sad smile, piquing her interest. “Hey, bud, why are you so quiet? Is something wrong?”

“I think he needs to take a shit from all the traveling,” Levi interjected, the orange duffel bag on his shoulder and one of his hands inside a pocket of his jeans.

“No!” Altair yelled, cheeks aflame with heat, and eyes flittering between the two laughing adults. “I don’t feel like taking a shit … it’s just, I,” he paused, inhaling tea-scented air, “I just miss home so much and I’m happy to finally be here.”

With Petra’s arm wrapped around Altair’s shoulders, the two followed Levi into the house. The strawberry blonde woman kept glancing at the little boy at her side, sensing something amiss from how he acted. There was something not clicking for Petra and it flared, even more, when Levi’s dog, Captain, came running from the second floor to give Altair a welcoming. Only it wasn’t that warm and cuddly welcome the boy received from the two adults, it was full of barks and growls from the golden retriever directed towards Altair. Pushing the doubts from her mind, Petra had to intervene since Captain showed no sign of stopping and Altair was stuck on the wall.

“What is wrong with you, you goofball,” Petra scolded the dog, gently putting her hands on the canine’s head and ruffling his fur. “This is Altair.”

“I think it’s because I smell like camp,” Altair murmured, stepping away from the dog with small steps until he found himself in the living room. Behind him, Petra was telling the dog that it seems like he doesn’t recognize one of his owners and Altair took everything inside him not to flinch at the remark. However, the interior design of the living room caught his eye and the worries building up inside his mind vanished in an instant. There was a huge fireplace in front of an arranged long couch and armchairs. Paintings were placed immaculately around the room, matching with the color palette of browns and beiges. Overall, it looked like a manor and Altair was in awe that he spoke in a British accent, forgetting his crafted persona. “Wow, this is better than the pictures.”

“Kiddo, what do you want to do first?” Petra called out as she entered the living room. She straightened one throw pillow on the long couch before turning to the little boy who schooled his features into a blank one. “Do you want to eat and then unpack, or we could unpack and eat? Or we could eat while we unpack.”

“You mean I can eat in my room?”

Petra furrowed her brows, crossing her arms across her chest. “Well, yeah, that’s a definite possibility.”

“Al,” Levi shouted from the kitchen, hands occupied with a bowl of chili and a spoon. “When you’re done, come on down. I want you to meet someone.” Levi glanced at Petra, who was pursing her lips, knowing who this person Altair’s going to be introduced to. The gray-eyed man narrowed his eyes slightly as if telling his friend to not tell the boy before him. “The chili’s good, Petra, thank you.” He then turned around to get some more chili for the guest, brushing off how Petra rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Dad!” Altair yelled.

“Okay, Al,” Levi replied, a smile can be heard in his voice.

The little boy’s eye followed his father until he went out the patio with two bowls of chili. Everything blanked out when he saw Levi placing one of the bowls in front of a woman dressed in a tight-fitting dress. Altair couldn’t see the face of the woman but he could tell she was way younger than his dad. Levi kept standing at the other side of the table, with the woman leaning forward, probably trying to impress his father.

“Hello, handsome,” the woman said in a sultry voice.

“Hello,” Levi replied in a flat voice, hands gripping his bowl of chili.

“So did you tell him?”

“I was getting to that but he was tired and he needs to unpack. It won’t hurt to be patient since you’re only a guest here.”

The woman scoffed. “And chili? Really, Levi?”

“Mr. Ackerman.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Tch.”

Altair leaned towards Petra’s side, dropping his voice in a whisper. “Tell me what?”

“We’ll talk about this in your room, Al,” Petra whispered right back, steering the boy to the stairs but not before glancing back at the two people on the patio. She hoped Levi will take care of this situation before it gets worse. “Even though your father told me with a glare to never tell you this first, I might have to because we don’t want you snapping at that woman. It’s best to keep a clear mind when around her.”

Altair dropped his duffel bag on the floor when they finally entered the safety of his room. There was a wrapped parcel with a card saying, ‘welcome home’, and Altair concluded that this was Erwin’s gift. Petra and he sat on the floor, the woman opening the bag and taking out the topmost items. She handed the camera to a distressed Altair, pursing her lips at how the boy’s thoughts can be seen in his eyes. While she was taking out some of his clothes, Altair stood up and went to his window overlooking the wide backyard. The little boy’s eyebrows met again in a glare that mirrored his father’s too much as he looked down from his window, distaste, and confusion evident on his scowl. Petra sighed, knowing that if Altair wasn’t told what the truth is, he will be in one of his moods where not even a plate of chili and a pack of Oreos can quell his snappy attitude.

“Trust your dad, kiddo,” the strawberry blonde tried for a casual tone.

“Who’s that?”

“That woman is Cynthia Maryland from San Francisco,” Petra answered, patting her lap from imaginary dust, and crossed the room to stand beside the boy. “She was this publicist, or so she claims, and tried to strike a deal with your dad regarding the ongoing popularity of your tea shop and its branches. That is why I told you to watch what you say to her, just a snap of her fingers and she will paint the tea shop and your family in a bad light. But it seems like she’s selling something other than tea.” The two of them watched the Cynthia woman try to wrap her arm around Levi’s, the latter snatching his limb at the speed of light and walked ahead, ignoring the whines of the young woman as he relayed the ideas that revolved around her work. The message that Levi wasn’t interested in her didn’t reach the brunette woman, following him with eyes filled with faux adoration that made the two grimace. “Ugh, disgusting. She’s taking the word desperate to another whole level.”

Altair narrowed his eyes. “I think the word desperate has her picture on the internet. Why is she so adamant?”

“Of course, it is. Look at it this way; your father is this grumpy, middle-aged, short man and that woman is a young, pretty thing begging for his time of the day. Who in their right mind would try to suck up to him these days? I mean, not that I was describing Levi as this unattractive man but I saw her in the city bank last time I was out for groceries, and let me tell you, that woman is a snake trying to check your dad’s worth. Al, do you think there’s really something going on between them?”

“So she wants him for his money?”

Petra nodded, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately. “That’s about right, kiddo.”

“Does he like her?”

“You have to hear from your dad about that.”

And that was what Altair wanted to know, giving Petra a quick wave and running downstairs to where the woman had his father in her clutches after changing into some swimming shorts and a shirt. There was no way that this was happening. His father who didn’t bat an eyelash on any woman the past eleven years was giving this stranger attention. Everything in the plan will be in shambles if this goes on. The poor boy’s mind was a mess and it became worse when he stepped out into the pool, the sight of his father standing beside the lounging chair with the young woman lying on it like she owned the house. His father’s back was to him so he couldn’t discern what expression he had as he stared down at the woman flaunting her figure for all the plants in the poolside to see. The woman was talking about something until Altair caught her eye, the little boy controlling himself from flinching.

“There’s the little man of the hour!” Cynthia gleefully announced, waving her hand high in the air.

Levi turned around and his hardened gaze became soft at his panting son. Glancing at the woman on the chair with unreadable eyes, he murmured, “I’ll be back with the new brew. You can keep my son company while he swims.” He tenderly ruffled Altair’s hair as he passed by the boy, giving him a rare, breathtaking smile. “Behave, Al.”

The woman grumbled along the lines of not introducing her to Altair but she quickly changed her face into a kind one as she faced the boy. Upon seeing the blank expression on the gray-eyed boy, Cynthia tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Hey, sweetie,” her eye twitched when Altair visibly scrunched his nose in disgust, “my name is Cynthia Maryland and I’m a special friend of your father’s.” She sat up in the lounge chair, straightening her posture to make an impression on the kid. With an award-winning smile, Cynthia continued, “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Altair Ackerman that everyone has been talking about. I actually looked forward to this all summer!”

“Really? Well, here I am.”

Cynthia cleared her throat at the still icy look Altair was giving her. “You’re so adorable. The way your father talked about you, I was expecting a sweet little toddler but here you are, already nearing adolescence. The way he talked about how you’re the most special person in his life right now, it’s so heartwarming and probably the reason why I like him.” Altair rose an eyebrow at this. “Enough about me, the spotlight is on you, young man.”

“I’m nearing twelve.” Altair tilted his head. “How old are you?”

Cynthia giggled. “Twenty-four.”

A fake gasp rang through the air. “Only thirteen years older than me. You’re practically my older sister. You know, I never had a sibling. Must be nice to be recognized by Dad and be well-acquainted with the rest of the family members before you get adopted. It’s a good thing Dad’s the one adopting you. He takes great care of our dog so I’m sure he’ll take care of you like he takes care of Captain, too.”

“Excuse me?”

A ringing phone broke the conversation, the noise coming from Cynthia’s glittery purse. The brunette suppressed a groan of annoyance, schooling her features in a close-lipped smile while taking out her phone. Altair didn’t think twice turning around and sitting at the edge of the pool. His eyes never strayed from the blue waters, ears perked up to eavesdrop from the pesky woman. If a stranger saw him at the moment, one would think he was thinking of murdering the pool but he never strayed his gaze from the water, his low laugh of disbelief ringing through the vicinity at the woman’s words. It seems like she was telling someone off and that she was taking care of things perfectly in the Ackerman estate.

“I’m sorry to inform you but Levi will be out of the country at the date of your visit. I’ll call you later, bye.” Cynthia sat up on the chair, placing both of her elbows on top of her knees, and leaning forward to regard the little boy who swiveled his head too quickly when he heard his father going out of the country. “So, Al, how was camp? Was it fabulous?”

“Dad is flying out of the country? For what?”

Cynthia laughed, glancing at her phone. “Oh, no. I just had to tell a little white lie to get him out of something. You know, Al, I have never heard a man talk about his son the way that Levi talks about you. You two are incredibly close but seeing the two of you together, well, it’s like he has a little him.”

“Well, we’re closer than close.” Altair stood up from the side of the pool and took his shirt off, leaving him in his swimming trunks. Glancing at the woman, who was faking a smile, he responded with a fake one as well. “We’re all each other has like always.” He made a cannonball in the pool, splashing water everywhere. There was a shriek of surprise from Cynthia, screaming about her designer dress and make-up, to which Altair didn’t hold back his smirk. Emerging to the surface, he shook his head before planting an innocent smile on his face. “Sorry. Did you get wet, Cecilia?”

“It’s Cynthia!”

“Oh, my bad, Cindy.”

Cynthia groaned in aggravation, her kind façade dropping. “And it just splashed on my clothes. Don’t worry about it, Al.” She tried making herself presentable again with a strained smile. Her hand raked through her curled brown locks, ruffling them for a little volume and flipping them over her shoulder. She walked towards the side of the pool, her heels clanking against the stoneworks. It was Altair’s least favorite sound now, along with her horrendous giggles that were too high and pitchy. He’d rather prefer your soft laughs that seem to sound like fairies but that thought was interrupted when Cynthia crouched in front of Altair, her smile hiding something sinister behind those bloody red lips. “Hey, guess what. I know your dad has been lonely—“

“He’s not lonely,” Altair cut off with a blank face.

“I know he’s not lonely,” Cynthia rolled her eyes. “But your mother has been out of the picture the moment you were born. It appeared to me that she couldn’t handle the responsibility of taking care of an infant so she left.”

Lies.

“Levi told me one time while we were riding about out how lonely he was without someone to lay in bed or to make love with.”

Disgusting.

“So I expressed my feelings for him because the more time we spent together, the more time I fell in love with a man like your father. He was everything.”

Do you mean, he has the money?

“I was genuinely surprised when he told me he felt the same way and before you knew it, we were dating. He told me while on a date last week that he wishes for you, Al, to have a mother’s love and affection, and with it, he proposed to me.”

Bloody woman, she’s ruining the plan!

“I would like to be a great mother to you, Altair Ackerman. I would shower you with all the love your mother couldn’t give you because she’s too selfish.”

A static noise rang around Altair, his eyes murderous on the smug woman by the pool.

“I have the new brew—Al, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Levi slid his sharp eyes on Cynthia. “What did you tell my son?

Her grin was like the devil. “Nothing, Levi, just the truth.”

Altair only looked down with gritted teeth and teary eyes, murmuring along the lines of, “Mum is not selfish. She’s every good thing here.”

That night, Altair locked himself in the bathroom, his phone in hand. Dialing a very familiar number, he waited for the other person to pick up with half-lidded eyes. When his voice answered the phone, Altair immediately dropped his American accent. “It’s me. We have a major problem here. A pest made herself known. What’s your situation over there?”

#aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #modern au #i hate writing whiny bitches hhhhswujd #levi #rorywrites

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Cabin in the Woods [18+]

Jackson Neill x Female Reader

For @storiesofsvu’s Fall Bingo! Requested by @resparza!

Summary: You and Jackson take a trip to New England that goes slightly awry.

Warnings: NSFW, nipple play, fingering, praise, slow gentle sex until the end when it gets a lil rough. Fluffy fluff & the tiniest bit of angst (so Jackson can reassure you). Trans male version here

3,350 words

Jackson made a tiny mistake with the timing. He booked your leaf-peeping getaway for mid-October, when the leaves in the city were just beginning to turn.

When you arrived at your cozy Airbnb in the mountains of Vermont, you were greeted by the awe-inspiring sight of… sticks.

“Goddammit. I forgot how geography works,” Jackson griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’d been in a sour mood for most of the drive up I-91 when the scenery started to look distinctly more ashen than orange halfway through Massachusetts.

“It’s like we time-traveled two weeks into the future,” you marveled at the bare tree branches rattling in a chilly breeze. Your rustic cedar-shingle cabin was surrounded by forest and at the end of a long dirt driveway. Even without the screen of leaves, you couldn’t see any neighbors.

“So much for leaf-peeping. There are no leaves.”

You picked up a bright red maple leaf from the driveway. “Found one!”

He chuckled at your enthusiasm and shook his head. “If I made our reservation a week earlier, the foliage would be, you know, in trees.”

“Found another!” you pointed at the colorful ground, grinning. “There’s another!” You picked each one up and tossed them at him like confetti.

“Alright!” he groaned, curling his elbow about your neck like a shepherd’s crook to wrangle you in. “I see you refuse to have a miserable time. Won’t even wallow with me for two seconds?”

“I think it’s pretty.” You turned in his arm and kissed him.

The tip of your nose was cold, but your lips were warm as he kissed you back and tried to look on the bright side. Just because things weren’t going to plan didn’t mean he had to relapse into his ingrained Catholic guilt.

***

Since the publication of his book, Meyerism: A New American Religion, Jackson Neill had been receiving threats from the eponymous cult that had him on edge. Not only was he afraid for himself—he wasn’t so macho to pretend otherwise—but he worried about you or his kids getting caught in the crossfire. The deeper he dug into the Meyerist Movement, the more he was convinced they were capable of anything.

This vacation was supposed to be a way to leave all that behind for a weekend, but stress clung to him like spiderwebs.

At least the weather was cooperative. Friday afternoon was clear and sunny—just the right temperature to sit out on the porch with a hot cup of cider. After unpacking, you settled down with Jackson on Adirondack chairs and listened to the sounds of nature as the fading sun slanted orange and red through the forest.

Pops of bright color still stood out amid the dull grey-brown landscape like flames—late trees that had waited for your arrival to change.

“You’re right: it is pretty,” Jackson conceded, your hand nested in his. Your fingertips were getting cold, so he held them to his lips and blew on them.

Tomorrow, you’d go on a nice hike with a beautiful view of the snow-capped Green Mountains. The trip wasn’t a total waste, Jackson thought. He tried to relax.

***

The next morning, you awoke to the pounding of rain on the roof and Jackson pacing downstairs in the living room. The entire cabin creaked and groaned with the force of the wind, and you quickly pulled on a sweater and wool socks before padding down the stairs.

Jackson was tapping at his phone, muttering under his breath, before finally tossing the useless device on the couch with a dry laugh. His apparent crankiness couldn’t have been that bad, though—he’d gotten up early to light about a hundred votive candles, filling the dim living room with flickering golden light. He must have been planning something romantic.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“No signal out here in God’s country,” Jackson rolled his eyes at a wooden cross decorating a door frame, which had not been visible in the listing photographs.

“Isn’t there Wi-Fi?”

Jackson stared at you with lips so thin they vanished into a fine line, and eyes that looked ready to shatter like exploding light bulbs at any moment. “Storm knocked out the power.”

Oh. That was why he lit candles.

“And our hike is canceled, unless you want to go out in that.” A freezing mix of rain and sleet rattled the window panes.

It was easy to let another person’s bad mood get you down, but you tried to stay positive. He’d been so tense lately, he needed support. You both needed this vacation to go well. “That’s OK. We can stay in and get cozy with the fireplace.”

“You would think so,” he gave a humorless chuckle, shaking your arm off to sulk into the open-plan kitchen. “The listing said breakfast was included, but the refrigerator is empty. We’ve got… toast.”

“Maybe we can drive into town? Find one of those quaint little bakeries.”

“Out into the cold,” he sighed. “And we don’t have internet to look a place up. No wonder the host thinks they can get away with starving us—I can’t even call to complain!”

The wall of positivity you’d constructed groaned and cracked, and the anxiety it held back began to stream through. You sank down onto the couch.

Oblivious, Jackson hunted through the charmingly rustic (and empty) cabinets with an increasingly frustrated frown. “This trip is a disaster.” The words stung as surely as if he called you a disaster.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” He turned. Your voice was so quiet he barely heard you say anything.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated so he would hear, lower lip trembling with the effort.

It took him three strides to cross the entire cabin, and he was on top of you, kneeling in front of the couch, stroking your face. “Hey, no, no… What are you talking about?” His green eyes were soft as the hay fields you’d passed yesterday as they searched yours.

“It was my idea to come here,” you sniffed.

“I know.” His head tilted, and frown lines creased his forehead. “I wanted this weekend to be perfect for you, and I can’t get anything right. I don’t know why you’re sorry. This is my fault.”

“But it’s my fault you’re miserable. I thought getting away from the city would be relaxing. I wanted some alone time with you. But you’re not having any fun. I just don’t want you to be upset…”

Something changed in his eyes.

“I… I’m not upset.” His thumb gently stroked your cheek. “I’m not upset at all—not at you. Maybe at myself. Fine, entirely at myself. This was your trip, and I fucked it up. I hate disappointing you.”

A hint of a smile crept back into your face. You covered his hand with your own and turned into it to kiss his palm. “Jax, you could never disappoint me. All I wanted out of this trip was to spend time with you. So long as we’re together, I’m happy.”

“You don’t look happy.” A flicker of a self-deprecating smirk. “Guess I ruined things by being a grouch, huh?”

Your face once again threatened a smile. “No…”

“Yes. I’m a big mean grouch. Come on, you can tell me off,” he grinned, leaning close to your neck and purring his words against your earlobe. “Punish me. Throw a handful of sleet down my shirt. Push me into a pile of wet leaves.”

“Nooo!” you squirmed beneath him, fighting a laugh as he invented tortures for himself and kissed them into your skin.

“Come on, I deserve it.” He pulled back, and a smile broke across his face like dawn to see how your eyes had brightened.

“Alright, alright. Maybe just a little sleet.”

“From now on”—he pressed his lips against your neck again and sucked lightly at the beat of your pulse point—“I promise”—he nibbled his way over your jaw—“to appreciate every moment of our vacation”—his lips ghosted against yours—“and make sure you feel good.”

You pulled him down onto the couch with you, falling back onto the cushions as his lips melted with yours and his tongue hunted for a moan inside your mouth. He found one, long, slow, and tortured as you tasted the raw heat of his apology.

“Mmm,” you hummed as if a chocolate truffle were melting on your tongue. “You want to make me feel good?”

“Yes,” he sighed back, lips moving against your cheek and his hips lazily grinding against your thigh.

“I have a few ideas about how you could do that…”

“So do I.”

His long fingers slid down your stomach and slipped beneath the waistband of your flannel pajama pants. You drew a sharp breath as his pads grazed the top of your slit, and he paused, looking to you with lust-blown eyes for permission to continue. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you angled your pelvis to move his fingers onto the aching bud of flesh that sent hot shivers out beneath your skin at the contact.

“Seems we’re on the same page, Dr. Neill,” you whispered, and captured his lips again.

Moaning into the kiss with a dark, gravelly rumble, Jackson let his fingers venture deeper into your folds. You weren’t drenched for him yet. Moments ago, you had been on the verge of crying, and he still had to reassure your body that it was wonderful and loved—but he was a patient man and enjoyed taking his time. Each breath and sigh was a signal he attended like a rapt student in the front row of the classroom, his own pleasure coursing through his veins as he played with your pussylips and brought out your trust and desire.

“Shirt off.”

Nodding, you peeled the hem up over your stomach, and he sat up to help you wriggle it off over your shoulders. While he was at it, he pulled off your pajama bottoms and stripped to his boxers.

“Hey, I’m cold,” you whined, pouting as goosebumps began to prickle over your naked arms.

He pulled the fleece blanket off the back of the couch and covered you both with it. “I’ll keep you warm, querida,” he purred as he lowered himself over you.

A hot flush spread over your skin. You loved when he spoke Spanish—sweetly, with the vocabulary of a 1950s telenovela, and full of diminutives the way his mother used to speak it to him as a child. A well-placed querida or cielito could send shivers up your spine. It was nothing compared to the back-arching jolt a moment later when his tongue teased your nipple.

You cried out, fingers curling sharply into his hair as if his tongue carried an electric charge, unsure if you were trying to push him off or pull him closer and make sure he never stopped. As he gently sucked and your sensitive flesh pebbled into a stiff peak beneath his circling tongue, you were leaning toward the latter. Head thrown back, you gasped out his name, begging for more.

He worshiped your chest, eyes flicking up to meet yours with a playful, attentive expression, but he didn’t give you more, no matter how you clawed at the back of his scalp. His tongue worked in gentle, leisurely circles, tracing one fully before moving on to give attention to the other.

Fingers delving back between your thighs, he found your clit swollen and throbbing. You let out a startled, sobbing moan as he stroked it, your back arching, clinging to his head almost painfully tight to brace against the overwhelming sensation. If he kept touching your two most sensitive areas at the same time, you were going to come fast.

“Easy…” he soothed, sensing your agitated level of arousal. “I want to make this last. Can you be good for me and wait?”

Whimpering, you nodded and loosened your tight grip.

“Yes, Dr. Neill.”

“Good girl.”

As he languidly serviced your nipples, he dragged his fingers lower, through your folds. It still made your skin prickle with wanting, but without direct contact with your clit, you wouldn’t come as fast.

When he found your entrance with the pad of a finger, it was slick enough to press inside without resistance. You let out a delicious, tortured moan as the long digit penetrated your tight walls, opening them a little at a time.

“Fuck, you’re so warm. So wet. That’s my good girl.” He lifted his face from your chest to kiss you in praise.

Your hips writhed to push the finger deeper as you kissed him back. He was hungry to reconnect with you—to go slowly and spend as much time as he could sharing pleasure with your naked body—but you were starving. You might explode if he didn’t fuck you.

He moaned softly as your wetness swallowed more of his finger. “Feels like you’re sucking it. Trying to pull me in. You must want more.”

“Yes… please,” you whined, your hands gripping at his broad shoulders.

A second finger stretched your entrance, and he began slowly fucking you with both.

“Oh, fuck. More! Harder,” you moaned.

“You sound so desperate,” he observed casually. “Like one of my students trying to cram for a test.” Heavy-lidded bedroom eyes betrayed his desire, but he wore a cheeky grin and did not increase his pace.

Wet sounds of flesh filled the cabin, so slow it was torture. “Please, Jackson… please let me come. Please…” you begged, but he just kept watching you studiously, worshipfully, as he fingered you slowly. Enough to keep you begging, but not enough to let you finish.

He was straddling one of your legs, and his cock pressed rock-hard into your thigh. Every so often, you would feel it twitch, usually when his fingers massaged a sensitive spot inside that made you give a satisfying noise, and he could feel your pussy gripping around him. Then he would murmur, “You’re so beautiful. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Only when you were a drooling, trembling mess that could barely string two intelligible words together did he start to actively roll his hips, rubbing his erection against your leg.

“Do you want more?”

“Y-yes,” you sobbed.

He sat back on his haunches, and you wailed as his fingers slipped from your yearning wetness, leaving you so empty. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked softly, so tenderly that “fuck” sounded like the most romantic, poetic word in the English language.

“I love you,” you replied, which wasn’t technically a yes, but made Jackson’s breath catch suddenly in his throat.

“I love you, too, mi corazón.” He tugged the elastic waistband of his boxers down over his straining cock, and, taking it in his hand, notched its thick head against your entrance. His forehead rested against yours as he demanded huskily, “Now tell me you want me inside you.”

You gasped. He was so big and blunt against your tight pussy, you almost didn’t think he could fit. But you knew he could—and you knew that was why he always warmed you up so gradually, so agonizingly, so he would never hurt you. With the crown of his cock stretching your opening, the temptation of being filled by him was so close that an unbearable ache drowned out every other thought.

“I want you, Jackson. I need you.”

A thrill rushed through you as his walls came crashing down. His hips canted forward, and a pleasurable burn filled your depths as his cock stretched you open farther than seemed possible—and you watched his mind empty in that moment. All the stress and worry were gone. Nothing was on his mind but you and how good you felt wrapped around him. Nothing existed for you but him between your legs and the ragged sound of his breathing.

As if to seamlessly replace his fingers with his cock, he set the same languid pace. At first, the difference in girth was enough to make it infinitely more intense. Relief cascaded through you as your pleasure finally began to build toward a finale, heat pooling in your lower body with every thrust. Dipping his head, Jackson found a hardened nipple and sucked it until you were babbling incoherently, hips jerking to add to the depth and friction he was giving you.

“H-harder,” you whispered, and this time, he didn’t tease you.

Your pussy coated his cock with so much cream, he knew you could take all of him. Knew you were ready to snap, and so was he—so his hips pounded faster, thighs slapping your skin, heavy balls swinging against your ass.

“Yes… yes… yes…” he breathed rhythmically, chasing his climax as your arousal coated his cock and slicked your thighs.

“More,” you rasped, though your fingernails were already digging red crescents into his back, the stretch almost too much. He needed a stress release, and you wanted to be his outlet. “Let yourself go.”

A final barrier broke inside him, and he took you so quickly, it was more like jerking himself off with your body than making love. Nothing went through his mind but seeking his own release. For a moment, Even you vanished, and there was nothing but his cock surrounded and gripped by unbelievable warmth. You cried out in pleasure at the new depths he struck with reckless abandon.

His hips stuttered. “Fuck!” he gasped, fingers gripping the couch cushion as his hot seed painted your inner walls.

He panted, going still. After a few moments of catching his breath, cock twitching the remainder of its contents into you, he wiped the sheen of sweat off his brow and opened his eyes.

“You didn’t come, did you?” He gave a sheepish sigh.

“It’s OK. Sometimes it takes me too long… It was fun anyway.”

“Stop that. Whoever gave you those excuses is a fucking idiot.”

Keeping himself sheathed inside you, he reached between your bodies to stroke your clit. You gasped out, finding your body responded quickly with waves of molten heat exploding between your thighs. You were still close to finishing.

Jackson circled his hips, using his spent, tender cock while it was still hard. Though each movement was overstimulating and made his body cry out to stop, he savored the way you responded to the pressure: your eyes squeezing closed, your breath growing shallow. He lowered his mouth to your chest again, stroking your clit faster as he flicked his tongue and rocked his hips in shallow thrusts. Your moans built, louder and more strained, back arching beneath him until finally, you came, walls crashing around him, convulsing and releasing, then clenching down again as your whole body shuddered with wave after wave of ecstasy.

Jackson’s mouth popped off the bud of your nipple as a pained moan tore from his throat. His exhausted cock suffered as your pussy involuntarily tried to milk another orgasm from it, but there was a smile on his lips. A breathy laugh.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re perfect.”

You lay together for a while under the blanket. Even after you’d recovered, your shared body heat was incentive enough not to want to get up yet. The storm outside didn’t relent, and despite the warm light of a hundred flickering candles, the air inside the cabin was chilly. Soon, you would start up the fire in the rustic stone hearth, and you could stay cozy inside all day roasting marshmallows and reading books or playing board games. After a brief trip into town for supplies, that is. Besides, you would have to brave the storm to make good on your promise to slip some ice down his shirt.

For now, Jackson’s face was buried contentedly in the curve of your neck, hot puffs of breath tickling your skin. You held him in your arms, combing your fingers through his hair.

“So,” you murmured. “Enjoying our vacation yet?”

You felt him smile. “It’s everything I needed.”

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags: @beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @isvvc-pvscvl / @shroomiehomie / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq / @madpanda75 / @alwaysachorusgirl / @bananas-pajamas / @leanor-min / @mad-girl-without-a-box / @katierpblogg / @worldofvixen / @sassyada / @detectivebarba

#Jackson Neill x Reader

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

#obikin #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #fanfic

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Note

Harry forget a special date night with his girl because his ex calls him. He don’t have feelinhs for his ex but he don’t wanna be rude so he answer and forget everything. After a week of silence he give his girl a big suprise to make everything alright

okkkkk this got really long on accident oops :) i wasn’t really sure how i wanted this to go, and i got slightly off track of your request? but i hope you like it!

make it up

warnings: angst, relationship fights

word count: 4k

You huffed in frustration, checking your phone for the tenth time tonight. You wanted to give Harry the benefit of the doubt, you really did. Maybe he was stuck in traffic. Maybe his producer had told him he absolutely had to stay late and finish some last minute work. Maybe he had gotten in an accident and his mangled car was laying at the bottom of a ravine somewhere. Maybe his phone had died.

The more excuses you tried to come up with, the more you realized what had really happened. He had forgotten. He had forgotten the date you had been planning together for weeks now, the one to celebrate the end of his tour. The one he had been talking about constantly, smiling about how excited he was to finally have you to himself for a few hours. Of course, he was incredibly grateful to his entire team and everyone who made his dreams reality, but sometimes he just wanted to sit down to a nice meal with you.

The two of you had barely had a second alone together since he got home a month ago. You had expected things to back to normal soon after he got home, but unfortunate that was far from what happened. You didn’t know there was so much for him to do after the tour was officially over. He still had to attend countless meetings with his team, discussing what things went well and what didn’t. He had to sit through hours and hours of interviews, answering questions that you really didn’t think were important. He just had to do so much; from how little you saw him, it felt like he was still halfway across the world.

The more minutes passed by, the more hope you lost. You had been fully dressed and ready, sitting at the kitchen table for over an hour now. He was supposed to be home at exactly 5, giving him enough time to get ready and make it to the 6:30 reservation at your favorite restaurant.

It was currently 6:10, and there was no sign of him. You had called him three times and sent at least 10 texts. This wasn’t like him. Even when he was busy, he always made time to shoot you a quick text to assure you he was okay and not ignoring you. But not tonight. Tonight, there was complete radio silence. Since Harry wasn’t answering, there was only one other person you knew to contact.

“Y/N, hi! Is everything ok?”

“Hi Sarah! Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Well, Harry got a text during one of the meetings. Apparently it was urgent, because he rushed out of there right away. Didn’t even say what it was about. We thought it was you.”

“Uh- no, no I haven’t heard from him at all. When was this?”

“4:30.”

“Oh,” you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. So he wasn’t ignoring you because he was in a meeting; he hadn’t been in a meeting for almost two hours.

“Y/N, I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Sarah comforted.

“Maybe,” you bit your lip. “But why is he ignoring me?”

“...I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe he’s not by his phone. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Y/N.”

“You’re probably right,” you sighed. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course, anytime. Text me when he gets in. He’s an idiot for leaving you out of things, but I still want to make sure he’s ok.”

“I know how you feel,” you smiled sadly. “I will. Goodnight.”

-----

“So, I think the biggest thing we need to figure out is the merchandise. Harry, if you could get a head start on picking colors, maybe thinking of designs? Or if you could-”

She was cut off by Harry’s phone dinging loudly. He sighed silently in relief, smiling apologetically as he pulled it out of his pocket. He had been trying to pay attention, he really had. He just couldn’t concentrate on anything. All he could thing about was how he would be home soon, kissing the love of his life and finally having some time together with you. He could tell his absence had been hard on you, even though you tried to convince him you were ok. He knew it hadn’t been easy for you, because it had been absolute torture for him. He loved touring, he truly did. He loved the adrenaline rush of performing for thousands of people. He loved traveling; seeing new things and meeting ne people. He loved his job. But it was incredibly difficult to be away from you for so long. He hated not being able to hold you whenever he felt like it. He hated waking up alone in a different country every week. He hated only getting to see you for a few hours on a Skype call every week. He hated being in a different time zone, constantly playing phone tag and replying to messages hours after they had been sent.

So, when his phone went off, he reached for it quickly, hoping to see a text from you. He was unpleasantly surprised.

Lucille: We need to talk

Harry frowned. He hadn’t heard from his ex girlfriend in almost a year, since before he met you. They had broken up even before that, but they had remained friends. He quickly texted back.

Harry: Is everything ok?

Lucille: it’s urgent. Meet met at the coffee shop?

Harry knew exactly what place she was referring to. The quaint little shop had been their favorite place when they were together. It was fairly secluded from the street and not well known, so Harry wouldn’t be hounded by fans and paparazzi.

Harry: I’m in a meeting, and I’m not free tonight. Are you ok?

Lucille: it’s an emergency. Please come right now.

Harry’s eyes went wide. He didn’t still have feelings for her, but she was a friend. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he would feel awful if something bad happened and he had refused to help.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Mitch spoke.

“Harry, what happened? Is it Y/N?”

“Uh- I have to go,” Harry said, abruptly standing up and leaving the room.

-----

“Lucille?” He asked, looking around the little shop.

“Harry, I’m so glad you came,” she smiled up at him from their table in the back corner. He made his way over to her, concern on his face.

“Did something happen? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I just... I need to talk to you.”

“Lucille, why would you do that? I thought something horrible happened,” Harry sighed, sitting in the seat across from her.

“I didn’t think you’d come if you weren’t worried,” she explained, stirring her coffee.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She had always been dramatic, and not in a good way.

“What is it then? Why do you need to talk to me?”

She didn’t respond, she just pushed the second coffee cup toward him.

“It’s your favorite,” she smiled.

“Thanks,” he took a small sip, grimacing slightly. His taste had changed since he met you. He couldn’t stand black coffee anymore. He reached for a sugar packet, ignoring the shocked look on her face as he mixed it into the dark liquid.

“Really, Lucille, why am I here?”

She sighed, setting down the stir stick.

“I think you know why.”

“I really don’t,” he said sincerely, looking up from his cup. “You said it was an emergency, but you seem completely fine.”

“I’m not fine, Harry. I’m in love.”

“That’s good!” he said, completely misunderstanding the look on her face. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”

“No, Harry,” she sighed. “I’m in love... with you.”

He drew back, slightly shocked at her words. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m still in love with you, and I think you love me too.”

“Lucille-“

She cut him off. “No, Harry listen. Why would you come here if you weren’t? Why would you drop everything, leave a meeting, and come to a random coffee shop to meet me? You said you weren’t free tonight, but here you are.”

“Because you’re my friend!” He exclaimed. “You said it was an emergency, I couldn’t just ignore you. But I’m with Y/N, and we are very happy together. Speaking of her...”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, wincing when he saw the time.

5:37. Y/N’s going to kill me.

“Lucille, I have to go. I was supposed to be home at 5.” He stood up, ready to rush home. He felt terrible for being late and he prayed he would be able to move their reservation back an hour or two.

“Oh, so she’s that controlling?” She asked, her voice laced with condescension.

“No,” he quickly shut her down. “We have plans tonight.”

Her face fell and she looked crushed. “Please don’t leave.”

“Lucille-“

“Please,” her voice lowered to a whisper and she looked like she was about to cry. He sighed, sinking back into his seat.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to love me,” she looked quickly with tears on her face. “Like you used to.”

“I’m sorry, Lucille. We broke up. We aren’t together anymore. I’m with Y/N now,” he repeated his sentence from earlier. He pulled out his phone again, ready to text Y/N that he would be a few minutes late. He knew she would be upset, but at least she would know he was okay. His plan was wrecked, however, when his phone didn’t light up immediately. He tried again, jaw clenching when he realized it was dead.

“Ok, I really have to go. I can’t text Y/N to let her know I’m okay, so she’ll be worried.”

“Don’t!” She cried out, getting the attention of the few others in the shop. “She’s not as good as me. She doesn’t love you like I do! I’m better than her.”

Harry took a deep breath, trying very hard to stay calm. “Don’t speak about her like that.”

“It’s true! We were so good together, Harry, don’t you remember?” She leaned forward, grasping his hand in hers. “Don’t you want that back?”

“No,” he pulled away. “I don’t. I love Y/N. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but it’s the truth, and I have to go.”

She grabbed him again, her sad face turning angry. “You will regret leaving me, Harry. I know all your secrets. I can spill things that will ruin you.”

“What, you’re blackmailing me into breaking up with Y/N?”

“Yes,” she said smugly.

“Fine. Do it. I don’t care.”

Her face fell. “What do you mean?”

“Ruin my reputation. I have Y/N, someone who loves me for who I really am, and not what the press is saying about me. That’s something you two don’t have in common. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he stood up, her hand falling away. “I have somewhere to be.”

-----

You had given up. You had changed out of your dress and into your pajamas. You were sitting on the couch, holding a book that you weren’t really reading. You were just waiting for Harry to come back. He better have a really good explanation.

Just then, you heard his key in the lock of the door. You sat up straighter, not taking your eyes off the book. You didn’t respond when you heard him call your name. You kept your head down, eyes glued to the book.

“Y/N,” he said, cautiously walking toward you. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re alive, then?” You said quietly, not looking at him.

“I’m sorry-”

You didn’t let him finish. You stood up, still not looking at him as you walked out of the room. He followed you as you made your way up the stairs and to the guest room.

“Y/N, what are you-”

“I’m sleeping in here tonight,” you said, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind you.

You heard a quiet knock on the door before his voice came again. “Please open the door.”

“Just leave me alone, Harry,” you said, pulling back the covers and climbing into the bed.

You hadn’t locked the door, but you realize you probably should have when you heard it softly click open.

“Go away,” you sighed, laying on your side and facing away from him.

“Please let me explain,” he said, sounding desperate.

“Not right now.”

“Y/N, just-”

“Harry,” you said harshly, cutting him off. “Please. Leave me alone.”

-----

The next few days were very unpleasant. You refused to speak more than three words to Harry. It was all one word answers and leaving the room as soon as he walked in.

You wouldn’t even stay in your bed with him at night. He had tried pulling you into your shared room, begging because “I can’t sleep without you.” You refused, pulling away from him and locking yourself in the guest room. Then he had tried following you in there, looking devastated when you pushed him out.

Finally, Harry had had enough. He couldn’t handle not being able to talk to the love of his life. He needed to talk to you. He needed to tell you all the minuscule details of his day, from what flavor muffin he had for breakfast to what color shoes Mitch had worn that day. He needed to hug you and kiss you and ask you what you wanted for dinner. Most of all, he needed to sleep next to you. He couldn’t take this anymore. He had to take Benadryl every night because he literally could not fall asleep without you.

He knew what he had to do. It’s not like this was some last minute thing, either. He had been planning this for months, since before he left for his tour. There was just a lot of finalizing to do before he could show you. He couldn’t wait anymore, though, so he picked up his phone and called his real estate agent.

-----

Harry followed you into the guest room before you could manage to shut the door behind you.

“Get out,” you said, not looking at him.

“No.”

This made you look up. So far, he had completely respected your wish for privacy, but apparently not anymore.

“Fine, then stay in here, but I’m leaving,” you went back to the door, but he grabbed your wrist before you could open it. You turned around, yanking your arm out of his grasp.

“What do you want?” You asked in frustration.

“I want to talk to you.”

“I don’t think there’s much to say, Harry. You forgot. You were excited- I was excited for this dinner, we were planning it for weeks. Then you forgot. You came home three hours late and you didn’t even let me know if you were ok. You could have been hurt or something, and I wouldn’t have known!”

“My phone died!” He defended himself.

“You could have used someone else’s! Where were you anyways?”

“I was with Lucille,” he said, looking very guilty.

“Oh, lovely! You stood me up to hang out with your ex. That’s just great.”

“That’s not what happened! Will you just let me explain?”

“Fine,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I- I have to show you something first.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “What is it?”

“Uh- you have to come with me.”

“No, Harry. Tell me.”

“I can’t,” he said sincerely. “It’s- please trust me, and come with me.”

“Trust you? What reason have you given me to trust you?”

“Y/N, please.”

“Alright,” you sighed. “Where is it?”

“We have to drive there.”

“Harry, it’s ten o’clock at night. I’m not going anywhere right now.” You narrowed your eyes. “You just want to get me in the car so I can’t walk away!”

“No- well, that’s an added bonus, but I promise, I really do have a place to show you.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your arms back to your sides. “Fine. Do I need to get dressed?”

“No, you’re totally fine,” he promised, looking down at his hoodie you were wearing. Even when you were completely pissed at him, you still wore his clothes. This brought a small smile to his face.

“Come on,” he held out his hand, not wanting to make the first move and upset you. You hesitantly took it, allowing him to lead you out of the house and into the car.

-----

You pulled up in front of the nicest house you had ever seen. The front was illuminated with lanterns and there was a large stone fountain capturing your attention.

“Where are we?” You asked, your confusion momentarily covering your anger.

“Come on,” he ignored your question, climbing out of the car and coming around to open your door. He helped you out, not letting go of your hand when you stood up straight. He walked you closer, an excited smile lighting up his face.

“Harry, seriously, what are we doing here?”

He still didn’t answer. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a key. Your eyes went wide as you began to understand what was going on.

He swung the door open, pulling you inside. You squinted, trying to see where you were as your eyes tried to adjust to the sudden darkness.

His hand found the light switch, flicking it on and washing both of you in the glow of the huge chandelier. You turned to him, your eyes still wide.

“Harry... what did you do?”

Suddenly he looked very shy. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as he looked around the huge room.

“I... kind of... bought a house.”

“You did what?” You sputtered. “You bought this house?”

“I did,” he smiled.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you buy a house just so I won’t be mad at you anymore? Because if you did, that was the stupidest-“

“No!” He cut you off. “No, that’s not why. I’ve been looking for a long time. A really long time. I’ve had my eye on this one for a few months now, I just figured... this could help me make it up to you.”

You were silent for a few seconds, staring into his eyes. He held his breath, not knowing what was going through your head.

“Are you crazy?”

“A little,” he laughed. “Are you... are you mad? About the house?”

“No,” your face softened when you saw how nervous he looked. “I’m not.”

“That’s good,” he blew out a big breath in relief. “Because it’s, like, 100% ours now. Not much I could’ve done if you were mad about it.”

“Which is why,” you smacked his shoulder. “You’re supposed to house shop with the person you’re going to be living with.”

“I know, everything’s just been so crazy lately. I knew you were stressed and I didn’t want to make anything worse.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you said, stepping closer to him. You hesitantly brought your arms up to wrap around him.

He seemed just as hesitant as you. He hovered his arms above your back, not sure where to put them. You pressed your face into his chest, inhaling his cologne and pressing against him. You hadn’t hugged him in so long. When he felt you relax, he finally put his arms down and hugged you back.

When you finally pulled away, there were tears in your eyes. His face became concerned again, bringing up his hand to wipe his thumb along your waterline.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, keeping one arm latched around you like he was scared you would run away.

“Because I’ve been awful to you the past couple of days. I shouldn’t have been so mad in the first place, I should have just listened to you and let you-“

“Wait a minute,” he cut you off. “You had every right to be angry. I promised you I would be home on time. Then I wasn’t, and I didn’t let you know. I was in the wrong here.”

“Maybe, but you didn’t deserve to be treated like I treated you. I never even let you explain where you were.”

“Do you want me to?” He asked.

“If you want to,” you exhaled shakily, trying to contain your tears.

“Like I said before, I was with Lucille- which I know sounds really bad, but just let me explain, yeah?”

You nodded, pulling away and taking his hand. You brought him over to one of the couches in the living room, pushing him gently to sit with his back against the armrest. His legs splayed out across the cushions, and you settled between them with your back against his chest. You leaned your head back, soothed by his rhythmic breathing.

“I was in a meeting and I was bored out of my mind. I got a text and I thought it was you, so I checked it. But it wasn’t you, it was Lucille. She said it was urgent , she needed to see me right then. I told her I couldn’t because I was busy but she kept saying it was an emergency. I didn’t think I could just ignore her, because what if something terrible happened? So I left the meeting and went to the coffee shop. She told me...”

You looked up at his face when he stopped talking. “She told you what?”

“She... said she loves me,” he explained, looking upset. “She freaked out, told me she “knew I loved her too” and that “we could be together again”.

“What... what did you say?” You asked, your voice a little shaky. You knew Harry loved you, but he had been with Lucille for over a year. It didn’t help knowing that Lucille was a beautiful model.

“I told her I was in love with you,” he said quickly, seeing the panic on your face. “I reminded her that she and I broke up a long time ago, and that I’m with you now.”

You relaxed a little, leaning against him again. “Bet she loved hearing that.”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “She actually tried to blackmail me into leaving you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, she said if I don’t leave you she’ll spill all my secrets and ruin my reputation.”

“What are you going to do?” You asked worriedly, sitting up to look at him.

“Nothing,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean nothing? Harry, you dated for over a year! What does she have against you?”

“Honestly, not much that I know of. I don’t exactly have any deep dark secrets,” he smiled.

“I guess,” you bit your lip. “Still.”

“Well, what would you suggest I do?” He joked. “Sue her?”

“Maybe, yeah. Defamation and all that.”

“Oh, definitely, I think that’s the way to go.”

“Absolutely,” you laughed, before a serious look came over your face again. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, don’t-“

“Listen to me,” you said, looking into his eyes. “I was wrong to treat you so badly. You didn’t deserve that and I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“Of course,” you leaned against him again, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Let’s never fight again, ok?”

“Ok,” he smiled. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve not been sleeping at all the past three nights, and I’m about ready to collapse. This house is fully furnished. What do you say we go find our bed?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

#harry styles #harry fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

A story in three parts

Middle

This is a crime family/mafia au so expect some violence. The Mingxicheng in this part is established.

When Jiang Cheng comes to, he groans in pain. His head is throbbing, there’s a bad taste in his mouth and his arms feel as though they are dead.

Jiang Cheng blinks his eyes open fully, hating how the world tilts for the first few blinks and when he finally sees his surroundings, his stomach drops in fear.

He’s in a warehouse, tied to a chair and Xue Yang is grinning maniacally in his face.

“The little princess finally came to,” he says, his voice full of glee, and Jiang Cheng tries his best to get away from him, but he’s tied to a chair—that’s what’s killing the feeling in his arms, too—and there is nowhere for him to get away to.

“What do you want?” Jiang Cheng presses out, aware that his voice is shaking and he hates himself for how weak he is, for how easily he is to scare.

“Ah, straight to business, I see,” Xue Yang says, and he sounds disappointed. “I hoped to play some more.”

“Don’t be stupid,” someone else suddenly says from behind Jiang Cheng and he tenses in fear of what that person is going to do, but then Su She steps around him and Jiang Cheng relaxes slightly.

Between those two, it’s definitely Xue Yang he needs to be more afraid of, Jiang Cheng knows that well, and so he barely keeps an eye on Su She.

Which is a mistake, Jiang Cheng realizes with ringing ears, when Su She punches him square in the face.

“You’re probably wondering what we want from you,” Su She says, sweet as anything, once Jiang Cheng managed to right himself again.

“I’m not, actually,” Jiang Cheng bites out, trying to get past his fear, spitting out the blood that’s gathering in his mouth and Xue Yang laughs straight in his face.

“Oh, that sure sounded differently just a few moments ago,” Xue Yang says and then gets out a knife.

Jiang Cheng tenses in fear, a cold shudder running down his back, but when Xue Yang walks up to him, he tries to squirm away. He’s getting nowhere of course, not with how tightly the rope cuts into his arms and when Xue Yang puts the knife to his cheek Jiang Cheng freezes.

“Listen here, little princess,” Xue Yang whispers and he puts more pressure behind the knife.

Jiang Cheng is sure that by now he must be bleeding, even though he can’t actually feel the pain through his panic.

“Don’t call me that,” Jiang Cheng still hisses out, because he has to be contrary no matter what, but it only seems to delight Xue Yang that much more.

“Aw, the little princess has some bite,” he mocks him and then swiftly moves the knife from his cheek to his neck. “But if the little princess isn’t careful, my hand might just slip,” he says, punctuating the last words with increasing pressure on his neck.

“Don’t kill him yet,” Su She suddenly speaks up but Xue Yang still hesitates for long moments before he moves away.

“It doesn’t matter if he’s alive or not as long as his parents come for him,” Xue Yang says with a shrug and now Jiang Cheng begins to shake for real.

His parents are not going to come for him, that much he knows, and as soon as Xue Yang and Su She realize that, he’s dead.

His father will probably not even notice that Jiang Cheng is missing, even if someone should demand a ransom, and his mother will only see this as a training opportunity.

Jiang Cheng knows that he’s too weak, too soft for the family business—always has been—and his mother will certainly think that this is what he deserves if he can’t even manage to get himself out of this situation.

But Jiang Cheng doesn’t enjoy being the heir to an underground organization; doesn’t want to spend his days training and fighting and killing when all he really wants to do is become a veterinarian but he realizes now that his stubborn wish is probably going to cost him his life now.

Wei Wuxian might come to his rescue—he delights in fighting and is good at it, too—but Madam Yu sent him out on business. By the time Wei Wuxian will return to the country, Jiang Cheng will be just another body, dropped into the harbour.

“You’re wasting your time,” Jiang Cheng spits out, despite the cold grip of fear around his heart, and gets another fist to his face for his trouble, but that side of his face is already numb, so it’s not like he feels it much.

“And why is that, little princess?” Xue Yang drawls out, moving the knife against Jiang Cheng’s neck once again. “Are you so unlovable that no one will come for you?” he asks with a lunatic smile and while the thought cuts Jiang Cheng deeper than any knife could, he nods.

“Yes,” he says, once he thinks his voice will hold and he relishes the way both Xue Yang and Su She freeze. “If you think my mother will come for me, you’re mistaken,” Jiang Cheng goes on, forces out between clenched teeth. “She’ll probably thank you for getting rid of some useless baggage when you deliver my body to her.”

“As if she would thank us for killing the heir,” Su She says with a frown, but Jiang Cheng can tell that he’s already doubting his actions.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Jiang Cheng says with a laugh. “But my father made Wei Wuxian the heir,” he tells them, trying not to let it hurt him yet again, but of course it’s always useless.

He knows his parents think very lowly of him for wanting a more normal life, a life that doesn’t involve constant killing and fights and territory disputes and it should have stopped hurting long ago, but of course that’s not how that works.

He’s useless and unloved and Jiang Cheng knows it well.

Not completely, a tiny voice in Jiang Cheng whispers and he tries his damn hardest to push that thought away.

It’s even more unlikely that Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue are going to come after him and Jiang Cheng knows it.

Lan Xichen left the trade a long while ago—preferring to be a teacher instead of taking over as the head of the family—and Nie Mingjue is not going to risk war with the Jin’s when he’s already in a constant fight with the Wens.

“You can tell Meng Yao that you fucked up big time by getting me,” Jiang Cheng spits out, pushing every thought of Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue away, and instead he thoroughly enjoys how wide Su She’s eyes get.

“You—” he starts but Jiang Cheng only laughs in his face, uncaring of the knife on his neck.

He’s going to die here anyway; a clean cut on his throat would probably be less painful than whatever Xue Yang has planned for him.

“You think I haven’t seen you run after Meng Yao like a lovesick puppy? Who else could be behind this, it’s not like either of you ever had an original thought in your lives,” Jiang Cheng snaps out and it’s only because he knows that he’s going to die here that he dares to be this brave.

“His name is Jin Guangyao,” Su She hisses and Jiang Cheng laughs in his face.

“Just because Jin Guangshan decided to give him a pity name doesn’t mean I have to use it,” Jiang Cheng hisses and then his vision goes dark when Su She hits him yet again.

“Shut up,” Su She yells and Jiang Cheng laughs because it’s so easy, so goddamn easy to rile him up.

“Calm down,” Xue Yang says and that makes Jiang Cheng laugh again, because Xue Yang has made quite the name in their circles for a number of things and being calm is not one of his defining features.

“You said we need him alive,” Xue Yang reminds Su She and when he eyes Jiang Cheng, his blood runs cold.

That’s a mad scientist looking at his next test subject and Jiang Cheng really wishes he would have managed that cut before.

“Maybe we don’t,” Su She spits out and then kicks Jiang Cheng right in the stomach with enough force that the chair topples over.

There’s no sound of breaking bone which is the only reason that Jiang Cheng knows he didn’t break anything, since he can’t feel his arms anymore, but his head hit the concrete rather forcefully and his vision goes yet again dark and spotty.

Xue Yang pulls him back up by his hair and Jiang Cheng clenches his teeth against the painful sound that’s trying to escape his lips. He might be the weakest Jiang that ever has been, but he’s not going to give them the satisfaction of screaming.

Not yet.

If Xue Yang gets to do with him as he pleases Jiang Cheng is under no illusions that he’s going to break rather sooner than later, but not yet.

“Any signs of that bitch yet?” Su She suddenly yells into the warehouse and it’s only then that Jiang Cheng realizes that they are not as alone as he thought.

Su She and Xue Yang definitely came prepared because there are about fifteen to twenty henchmen hanging around in the warehouse and if Madam Yu were to come, Jiang Cheng would worry.

Even is mother is just one person after all. But since she absolutely will not come to save Jiang Cheng from this dilemma he just finds the massive presence of henchmen amusing.

All these people called here to see one pathetic little person die. Jiang Cheng wonders how many of them will think this a waste of their time and how many of them will dare to say that directly to Su She’s face.

“Nothing is happening,” one of the henchmen replies and Su She klicks his tongue in apparent displeasure.

“Where the hell is she?”

“I told you, she’s not going to come. You went after the wrong one. Should have gotten Wei Wuxian if you wanted my mother to show up,” Jiang Cheng tells them and gets another cut to his cheek for that.

“You shouldn’t be speaking so much,” Xue Yang says as he leans down. “Maybe I should take your tongue, how would the little princess like that?” he asks and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes because he doesn’t think it really warrants an answer.

When Xue Yang cuts his other cheek Jiang Cheng figures Xue Yang didn’t like that answer much.

“So you think no one is coming for you, huh?” Xue Yang asks him, staring at his knife as he turns it around and around. “Why aren’t you begging for your life, little princess?”

“What use is there to beg a madman?” Jiang Cheng snaps back and Xue Yang still for a moment before a dangerous glint enters his eyes.

Maybe Jiang Cheng should have just held his tongue for once in his life, he thinks, right before Xue Yang drags the knife down Jiang Cheng’s front, putting just enough pressure on it to cut open his shirt.

“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you, little princess,” Xue Yang drawls out and Jiang Cheng can tell that he wants to get started with that right away, but suddenly there’s a sword pressed to the underside of his chin.

Xue Yang freezes and slightly backs away when the sword makes him, and Jiang Cheng cranes his neck around to see what is going on.

He did not expect to see Lan Xichen behind him.

“Xichen?” Jiang Cheng whispers and it’s only then that Lan Xichen tears his eyes away from Xue Yang and looks down at Jiang Cheng.

“We’re here, my heart,” Lan Xichen says and does something with his other hand that loosens the robe bound around Jiang Cheng.

Lan Xichen leans down to press a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s forehead and it’s only then that he seems to notice the blood on his cheeks.

“You’re bleeding,” Lan Xichen says, and his voice is hard and Jiang Cheng has never seen him look so cold. “Someone made you bleed,” he goes on and his glare turns towards Xue Yang, who has the good thought to back away a few more steps.

“Xichen, it’s not so bad,” Jiang Cheng tries, because he knows that Lan Xichen left this life for a reason, that he never wanted to kill again and Jiang Cheng isn’t sure if he can stand it if Lan Xichen breaks that promise to himself for Jiang Cheng.

“That’s Zewu-Jun,” one of the henchmen whispers and immediately panic breaks out where before everyone was frozen in surprise.

“Kill him!” someone yells, but before anyone can pull their gun, Lan Xichen is already moving, Shuoyue steady in his hand.

Jiang Cheng stumbles up, not entirely sure what he’s going to do or how he’s going to stop Lan Xichen, but he just knows that he has to try. But before he can decide on anything, two arms encircle him from behind and pull him towards a chest.

Jiang Cheng stiffens, before he recognizes the embrace and he fully leans into the body behind him.

“Mingjue,” he whispers and is rewarded with another kiss to his temple.

“It’s okay now, my heart,” Nie Mingjue whispers and tightens his grip on Jiang Cheng. “We got you know.”

“Mingjue, shouldn’t we—Xichen—he—” Jiang Cheng tries to say, but Nie Mingjue only hums, turning his gaze towards Lan Xichen.

It almost looks like he’s dancing from one henchmen to another, but whenever he leaves no one is left standing, Shuoyue nothing more but a silver flash in his hand.

“He’s magnificent, our light, isn’t he?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng has to admit that Nie Mingjue is right.

It almost looks like art, the way Lan Xichen is moving, the way his hair is flowing behind him and Jiang Cheng could watch him for hours.

Except that Lan Xichen never wanted to kill again and he walked away from the family business for good.

“He shouldn’t do this, he doesn’t want this,” Jiang Cheng whispers, and he’s ashamed to find that his voice is shaking with how relieved he is that at least someone came for him.

“He wants to,” Nie Mingjue says and kisses Jiang Cheng’s cheek, mindful of the cut there. “For you, he’d lead his family into war if it would protect you,” Nie Mingjue lowly tells him and Jiang Cheng shudders with his words.

“And you?” he dares to ask, slightly turning around in Nie Mingjue’s arms. “What would you do?” he wants to know and Nie Mingjue gives him a wicked smile.

“I would let Huaisang burn the world for you,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng has to close his eyes against the tears that are threatening to spill over at that.

They all know that Wen Ruohan is only still alive because Nie Mingjue hopes to kill him personally; Nie Huaisang has at least a dozen plans that would kill him instantly if not anonymously and the only reason that hasn’t happened yet is because Nie Mingjue is telling him not to.

If Nie Mingjue would just unleash Nie Huaisang onto the world, letting him do what he wants, however he sees fit, it would be pure chaos. Some days Jiang Cheng suspects it’s only Nie Mingjue’s strong sense of right and wrong that stops Nie Huaisang.

If that should fall away—if Nie Mingjue should give him his blessing—Jiang Cheng can barely contemplate it.

“I thought no one was coming,” Jiang Cheng admits, shaking with how weak that makes him, but Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen know about his family life, about his insecurities.

Jiang Cheng thinks that maybe he can tell them this much as well.

“They wanted to kill you,” Nie Mingjue says and his voice is dark.

“And I thought they would,” Jiang Cheng whispers and Nie Mingjue turns him completely around and crushes him to his chest.

“Never,” he promises. “We would never let that happen to you. We will always come for you,” Nie Mingjue promises him and Jiang Cheng lifts his hand to grip his shirt.

“Does he need help?” Jiang Cheng asks when he thinks that his voice is steady, and he startles only slightly when a third hand lightly touches his back.

“No, I don’t,” Lan Xichen easily says and then tugs Jiang Cheng out of Nie Mingjue’s arms to take a good look at him.

Lan Xichen is covered in blood, but he seemingly doesn’t care about that at all, because his gaze is entirely fixed on Jiang Cheng. There’s still a cold glint to it that makes Jiang Cheng shudder.

“Where are you hurt?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Some punches to the face, one kick to my stomach, the cuts you see,” he sums up, and he knows that he came away pretty easily from this.

Xue Yang’s face promised him so much more pain than those simple injuries.

“I should have made it hurt more,” Lan Xichen lowly says and Jiang Cheng can feel an incredulous laugh bubble up in his throat when a painfilled groan reaches his ear.

It seems like Lan Xichen did not immediately kill all of them, but left some of them to suffer.

“Xue Yang and Su She?” he asks and Lan Xichen’s face instantly darkens.

“Dead,” he promises and Jiang Cheng has no reason not to believe him.

He saw how deadly Lan Xichen was with Shuoyue. If he says they are dead, then they are.

“I should have killed Su She the moment he left the family,” Lan Xichen goes on, clearly beating himself up over that, and Jiang Cheng steps forward to cup Lan Xichen’s face between his hands.

“You saved me,” Jiang Cheng says. “That’s all that matters.”

Lan Xichen works his jaw at that, clearly wanting to argue, but Nie Mingjue puts his hand to Lan Xichen’s neck and lightly squeezes.

“Our heart is safe, my light,” he lowly says. “It’s okay. You can come back now.”

Lan Xichen relaxes as he hears his voice and he takes one deep breath before that dangerous glint vanishes out of his eye.

“My heart, are you okay?” Lan Xichen asks, and now he’s the Lan Xichen Jiang Cheng recognizes because his voice is soft and slightly panicked and Jiang Cheng knows way better how to deal with this than a vengeful, murderous Lan Xichen.

“I’m good,” he promises him, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“He thought no one was coming for him,” Nie Mingjue says, and Jiang Cheng has a split second to feel betrayed by that, before Lan Xichen crushes him to his chest.

“We will always come for you,” he whispers and Jiang Cheng clutches to his shirt, completely uncaring that Lan Xichen is getting blood all over him.

“It’s just—my mother didn’t,” Jiang Cheng whispers, even though he damn well knew that his mother would never bother to come for him.

She probably thinks that he should manage to break free of this himself, and if he wasn’t strong enough to do so, then so be it.

“That’s because she doesn’t know how to love you right,” Nie Mingjue says and Lan Xichen nods in agreement.

“Not like we do,” Lan Xichen adds and Jiang Cheng’s eyes start to burn again.

“Can we go home now?” he asks, his voice choked up, and Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue immediately lead him out of the warehouse towards their car.

Lan Xichen slides into the back with Jiang Cheng, while Nie Mingjue gets behind the wheel and it’s not long before they are on their way away from the warehouse.

“Let me see, my heart,” Lan Xichen says and he tilts Jiang Cheng’s face this and that way to get a good look at his face, but it’s clear he doesn’t have anything at hand to treat Jiang Cheng’s wounds with, so Jiang Cheng is content to wait until they are home.

Once they get there, Lan Xichen immediately rushes him into the bathroom.

“Shirt off,” he demands and usually Jiang Cheng would give him a lewd look for that, but his head is still aching and he’s beginning to really feel all his injuries, so he simply obeys Lan Xichen’s orders.

Lan Xichen sucks in a surprised breath when Jiang Cheng shrugs the shirt off and it’s enough to bring Nie Mingjue to their side as well.

“You should have made it hurt a lot more,” Nie Mingjue presses out as he reaches out to trail his fingers over the bruises left behind by the rope Xue Yang bound him with.

Jiang Cheng is probably lucky if he regains all of his feeling in his arms, going by how tight they were.

“I should have,” Lan Xichen darkly agrees and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“You got me out, that’s all that matters,” he tries but that doesn’t seem too reassuring for Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue.

“My soul, get the big first aid-kit,” Lan Xichen instructs Nie Mingjue after he takes a deep breath and Nie Mingjue turns around on the heel of his foot.

Jiang Cheng can hear Nie Mingjue punch the wall a few times, before he regains his control and he looks down at his feet.

“I’m sorry to make you worry like this,” Jiang Cheng says, trying to hide the already blossoming bruises on his chest, but of course Lan Xichen doesn’t let him.

“He’s not mad at you,” Lan Xichen says and even though Jiang Cheng knows that, it still makes a tiny knot of worry in his chest disappear. “How do you feel?” Lan Xichen asks him, as he gets started on cleaning the cuts on his cheeks and Jiang Cheng shrugs, but immediately regrets that decision.

“My head is throbbing,” he admits and Lan Xichen hums at that.

“Probably a concussion and the aftereffects from whatever they used to knock you out.”

“Blunt force,” Jiang Cheng drily says, because he does remember very well how something had hit him from behind.

Lan Xichen huffs out a laugh at that, and then he makes grabby hands when Nie Mingjue comes back with the big first aid-kit.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t think it’s entirely necessary to bring out the big guns, but before he can argue, Nie Mingjue sends him one look and Jiang Cheng closes his mouth again.

“Let us do this for you,” Nie Mingjue says, and leans forward to brush a kiss over Jiang Cheng’s forehead.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng sighs and then allows Lan Xichen to disinfect all of his wounds, even those that are only bruises, and then Lan Xichen diligently dresses all of them up.

“I feel like a mummy,” Jiang Cheng mutters when Lan Xichen finally deems him done and Nie Mingjue laughs at that, which makes Jiang Cheng suspect that he’s right about it, too.

“Are you hungry?” Nie Mingjue asks him when he leads him out of the bathroom and Jiang Cheng carefully shakes his head.

“I want to sleep,” he whispers, damn well knowing that neither Lan Xichen nor Nie Mingjue are going to let him sleep uninterrupted with a concussion.

“You can doze,” Lan Xichen very predictably yells from the bathroom and Jiang Cheng would roll his eyes at him if only his head doesn’t feel like it would explode any second now.

“I definitely need to lay down,” Jiang Cheng says, exhaustion finally making itself known and Nie Mingjue is quick to lead him to the bedroom.

“Come here, my heart,” he says as he lays down first, and then he pulls Jiang Cheng into his arms.

Jiang Cheng isn’t always down for cuddling, but today he thinks there is no safer space to be in then Nie Mingjue’s arms, and so he settles down easily.

“I’m glad you came for me,” Jiang Cheng mutters, and feels Nie Mingjue brush a hand over his head.

“I’m glad we were in time,” Nie Mingjue gives back just as lowly and Jiang Cheng moves closer to him, tries to entirely hide in Nie Mingjue’s arms.

It doesn’t quite work, but when Lan Xichen joins them and moulds himself to Jiang Cheng’s back, it almost feels like enough.

“I thought I was going to die,” Jiang Cheng suddenly sobs out, everything hitting him at once now and he can feel how Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue tighten their arms around him.

“But you didn’t,” they try to reassure him, but now that the tears are flowing, Jiang Cheng can’t stop them anymore.

He cries and he cries, and then he cries some more, and all the while Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue patiently hold him and tell him how much they love him, and when Jiang Cheng finally calms down, he instantly drifts off to sleep, headache be damned.

At least in the arms of his light and soul there is nothing he has to fear.

Next part

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#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingxicheng #mafia au #crime family #violence #blood #some murder of side characters #hurt/comfort #injury #a little bit of fluff

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

You’re gonna go far, kid [Punk! England x reader]

Synopsis: Ever since coming to England to study, you haven’t had the time to do what made you come in the first place--tourism! The only friend you have is an exchange student from Russia, Ivan, so why not kill two birds with one stone? He schedules a little playdate with Arthur, a local, so he can show you around the hottest spots in London. You two immediately hit it off. Ivan is quick to notice his interest in you, so he starts teasing the poor man and making things hard for him. Camden is the last destination, and there’s no saying when he’ll ever see you again. Will he be able to get over himself and ask you out before the night ends? Note: Attractions are italicized and have a link to a picture. Wordcount: 4,641 The reader is referred to as she/her.

This was the day you had been dreading, and yet, looking forward to. The first part was easy to explain. Picking up your hot latte, you set it down after a quick sip. You didn’t even have time to enjoy it. Not when you were typing away at your keyboard like a speed demon. You promised your friend you would finish your assignment before today’s meet-up, but your procrastination habits were a bitch. Nevertheless, you were eager to uphold your side of the deal, even if it meant stressing your hair out to get it done.

So long as he didn’t show up before you were done, right?

After burning your tongue for the second time that morning, you let out a small groan at the sting you felt but gasped at what you saw outside the window. It was a sound made from genuine terror--rather than the quiet streets of London at seven AM, you spotted a man pressing his face right up to the glass. And he was staring at you, menacingly.

Anybody would’ve been creeped out by the sight, but you knew the guy. “Aha--Ivan! Hey! Morning?” You began rather awkwardly.

He waved in response, and his glower melted away in exchange for a childlike smile. “Dobroye utro, (F/N)! I hope that’s not your assignment you’re doing.” He hummed, placing two hands on the glass to peer at your screen from outside. Oh shit. Glancing briefly at said screen, you turned it away before clicking the upload button.

“Of course not.” You grinned, shutting your laptop immediately after. “I was just... Surfing the net. Checking Instagram. You know?”

“Is that so? I’m gonna check.” He made his way inside. And in no time, he was looming over your shoulder to start browsing through your internet history. You, on the other hand, were sweating balls.

“You’re so funny, (F/N). Who checks Instagram on their computer?”

It seemed like only yesterday he was the oblivious exchange student from Russia who had no concept of social media. He had been a country bumpkin through and through, but a few semesters after befriending you, your influence rubbed off on him. Even you had no idea what went through your head when decided to talk to him, the intimidating new kid who spoke broken English, but there was no turning back now. He was attached to you by the hip and picked up on your habits faster than you could deal.

He only became more of a menace when he discovered Twitter.

A displeased expression contorted at his expression when he saw that there was no evidence of you ‘surfing the net’. Google Docs couldn’t possibly count, after all. “... Hm... Apparently, not you. Why didn’t you finish this yesterday, sunflower? Remember our promise?”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I passed out last night. But hey, I technically finished it before you came, didn’t I?”

He craned his head from side to side in thought. “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, you know what that means.” Ivan coiled his arms around your neck and a sickeningly sweet smile curled up at his lips.

“You will come with me to Moscow for Christmas!”

A chill ran down your spine at the thought. Going to Russia was bad enough. But during Winter? You were never good with the cold. If you could barely handle London, Moscow was out of the question. “Oh God, please no.” He nodded giddily. “I’m never going to Russia. Maybe I’d consider it during Summer, but--anyway, that’s not the point here! I didn’t break any promises so I won’t be turning into a popsicle this year. Got that?”

He pouted. “Aw...”

“You damn sadist.”

“Hehe.”

“I wonder how you even became friends with him. Arthur, was it? Poor dude.” You mumbled, but he didn’t look all too offended.

He tapped his chin and hummed. “Now that you mention it.” Then, he let out a short laugh. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it was a happy little accident.”

“Unfortunate.”

“But don’t worry! I don’t plan on bothering you as much as him today.” Ivan clarified, earning a slow nod from you. Phew. The clock was inching closer to eight and you weren’t much of a morning person, so hearing that was like music to your ears. “That’s why I wanted you to finish your work yesterday. I want him to be the only one making mistakes! It’s interesting to see him mess up and get embarrassed.”

You had to wonder if he was using ‘interesting’ as a synonym for fun because he was clapping. “... Ivan, you really are a sadist.”

The two of you stayed in that café for another hour or so, ordering some breakfast during your stay. Once the table was cleared and the bill was paid, you and he caught a bus to the London eye. You could marvel at the iconic ferris wheel for a few minutes as you walked up to the London aquarium next to it, your first stop. The building was huge to start with, and it didn’t look like they’d be storing fish in there considering how fancy it was. But wasn’t everything in England fancy?

“He should be waiting in the front. Look for a short grouchy man with a bad taste in fashion.” You shot him a weird look, beckoning him to elaborate.

“... And blonde hair.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll try my best.” Glancing around the sea of people filled with tourists, couples, and families, you skimmed the crowd for someone who fitted the description--but to no avail. It was only when they walked up to you both did you find the guy. He had short and choppy blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face, and under his fringe was a pair of lime green eyes staring on with a neutral expression. And did Ivan say he had bad taste?

You couldn’t agree. Yes, his charcoal pants were ripped and he had a bandana tied around his neck with a Union Jack on it. But he still had a kind of style you liked. Under his black leather jacket was a gray shirt, and combined with the piercings in his right ear, you couldn’t help admiring him for a second.

“Arthur! I was wondering if you were trampled because we couldn’t find you.” Ivan began, causing the said man to furrow his brows. And boy, were they thick.

“You just arrived, so don’t start now you twat.” He grumbled. Ivan never teased you for your height, even when you were a little shorter than the Brit. He always found it cute, but you figured it was only because you didn’t care. The Russian always found amusement in poking fun at others, after all. “Anywho, I’m glad I won’t be spending the whole day alone with you.”

Turning to you with a soft smile this time, he held out a hand for you to shake. “Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.”

You shook it, but not without a laugh. It hadn’t even been a minute since meeting him, and his personality seemed to clash violently with his appearance. He sounded so prim and proper, but his outfit screamed punk rock.

“(L/N). (F/N) (L/N).”

He released you from his grip. Placing his hands on his hips with an accusing stare, he felt a grin upturn his lips. “Are you copying me, (F/N)?”

“I don’t know. Do all British people introduce themselves like James Bond?”

Arthur clicked his tongue. “... Not all of them. Just a force of habit.”

“Mhm. Right, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m a student here too and I could only imagine how busy it gets for you--so thanks for coming out today!” He didn’t respond to those comments and simply nodded.

Ivan stayed quiet in the back, but he was probably reading the atmosphere like he always did when he didn’t speak.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde turned on his heel and closed his eyes. “As much as I’d like to stay out here and chat, we can do that in the aquarium. Wouldn’t wanna waste our tickets, do we?”

While the group of three wandered slowly through the establishment, Ivan lingered in the background while you walked in the front with the Brit. For the first ten minutes, you’d look at him expectantly, gesturing for him to join in the conversation. As the mutual, wasn’t he supposed to be the icebreaker? He’d shake his head every time, offering you a smile as if to say, go and make some friends. But soon, this brief spell of irritation morphed into gratitude.

“I’ve been here probably a hundred times, so don’t take it personally when I don’t seem as excited as you.” Turning to him to watch his face as he spoke--which was filtered through a bluish tinge from the Antarctic setting-- you only caught a brief glimpse of it before he turned away. Huh. Maybe it was just you not paying enough attention.

Either way, what came out of your mouth next would surely grab his.

“Don’t worry about it. But hey, this is the first time you’ve been here with me, so look alive, won’t you?” It happened to be a slip of the tongue, something bold and improvised, but luckily, he reacted fairly quickly before the regret set in.

“Oi, you better not be flirting with me already,” Arthur grumbled, feeling another smile come as he heard you chuckle. Since when was he this expressive? He pinned it on the fact that he was starting to have a little fun himself.

“Couldn’t imagine it.” Before he could add anything else, you hopped in front of the penguins and started waving your friend over with great gusto. “Ivan, c’mere. Arthur, mind taking a photo of us?” Once he joined your side, the two of you held up peace signs for the Brit to snap a photo.

“Ivan, change your pose. We can’t have both of you doing the same thing.”

The said man moved his peace sign to the back of your head so he could stick two fingers over it. “Is that better?”

“... Better.” Trailing his emerald eyes to you, he felt his cheeks heat up a touch at the sight of you grinning ear to ear. What the fuck, Arthur. Just take the damn photo. And that was exactly what he did, showing you both right after. Whatever just happened, he boiled it down to him idealizing a stranger. That was right. He had yet to get to know you, so his perception of you couldn’t be any better at this stage.

But there was one thing he couldn’t deny.

“Damn, I look really ugly in this. You two better not post this anywhere.” You settled a hand over the screen to lower it with a nervous laugh. Then, you looked away, and what was that? You looked a little flustered.

You were cute.

Hanging his head to look at the photo, he knitted his brows together. You? Ugly? He couldn’t imagine it.

“... I bet I could take an even uglier one of you.”

Spinning back to him, you folded your arms. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head slowly, and the amusement in his voice made it blatantly obvious he was lying.

“That’s what I thought.”

Walking off at that, Ivan followed. Because he was behind him, he could brush his shoulders against his. Arthur looked up at that, but almost wished he didn’t. Ivan was smiling down at him so shrewdly, it was threatening. Then, he raised a hand to his mouth so he could laugh softly. “Huhu. You like (F/N)~”

His eyes flew open and blood rushed up to his face. “What the hell gave you that impression? I literally just met them!” As adamant as he sounded, he knew deep inside he liked you, but only platonically. Your personality was refreshing, and talking to you was as easy as breathing. Even if it wasn’t platonic attraction, he was endlessly frustrated the other figured it out earlier than he could.

Whatever it was, he was certainly more sociable than usual, even to the point of being a tease. And not to mention the rosy cheeks. Maybe he should’ve just kept his trap shut--otherwise, his huge outburst let Ivan milk the obvious. Fuck. He even started to giggle like a schoolchild.

Giving him a rough shove, he muttered a string of curses under his breath. “I bloody hate your arse, you know that?” He hissed, his face now redder than a tomato. God, why he did have to be born so pale? Every slight change to his complexion was jarring, and it was embarrassing.

“Don’t hate me because I’m right,” Ivan hummed, joining his side as your back came into view. “Once you realize, it’ll be too late. I’m not letting you have (F/N). I will always be (F/N)’s number one.” Lighting up at that, he skipped off to you in the front. “Wait for me, sunflower! Don’t leave me alone with Arthur!”

Arthur stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. How annoying. If he was going to continue being a little tyke, then he figured he’d up his game as well. He didn’t know what that exactly entailed yet, but he’d do it. Ivan didn’t even sound like he wanted anything more than friendship, so what was with that? Pointing a finger at him as he walked off with you, his face scrunched up.

“What did you even call me out for then, you idiot? I’m supposed to be guiding you both!” Picking up his pace at that, he slotted himself between you and him. Flashing you a brief smile, he gave Ivan another push without breaking eye contact. “It’s a tight fit for three, so he’ll stay in the back.”

“Hey, no fair!”

By the time the whole aquarium was toured, you and Arthur were laughing to yourselves while leaving through the exit.

But the joyful atmosphere was short-lived.

The Ferris wheel just outside was the next stop, and the Brit offered to splurge a little to have a carriage without strangers. That way, you could run around as much as you wanted, even if that meant leaving the two men to sit in their lonesome. While Ivan was sitting on the bench in the centre out of his own volition, the same couldn’t be said for him.

Sitting back to back to the other, he pressed his legs firmly together and leaned over in a hunch. Then, he dug his hands through his hair, all while keeping his round eyes fixated on the ground. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, and his head was spinning like a carousel. What was he thinking, taking you here? That was right. This was an iconic destination you couldn’t miss, that was why. He was initially planning on staying back there on the ground, but you were so excited, he couldn’t help but hop on with you.

Fuck. Maybe Ivan was right about him. But he wouldn’t let him know it. Speaking of the guy, he didn’t know if he was sitting there by choice, or just rubbing it in. While he was incapacitated by fear so he couldn’t even stand, he was sitting there because he wanted to.

“You should’ve stayed on the ground if this was going to happen.”

Arthur screwed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around his stomach. “... Shut up.”

“I was just saying.” Ivan murmured, looking at him over his shoulder. Poor guy. He really was down bad, wasn’t he? Down bad for you, that was. Too bad Arthur was hoping he wasn’t convinced--but it was too obvious. So all Ivan wanted was to prove his point, and later on, keep you away from him. But maybe he’d save it until after the ride was over. “... This ride is thirty minutes long. You’ll live.”

He heard the other groan. “Thirty minutes? How long has it been?”

“Mm... Ten.”

“Fuck me.”

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before you would pull away from the railing and return to the company of the two. Arthur had been praying that somehow, you’d leave him alone sitting there, pathetically, but he couldn’t expect something so cold from you. So while he hung his head, he wasn’t surprised to feel your hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” He heard you ask, but he never looked up.

“... Yeah. Just give me a minute.”

“I have. Ten, actually.” Taking a seat beside him, you leaned down to peer at his face, which was a few shades paler than normal. He didn’t even have the energy to respond, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. Concern immediately contorted at your features, especially when he looked so shaken. “Arthur, you look a little sick. What’s wrong? Can you talk?”

He shook his head slowly before managing a weak smile at you. “Sorry, love.” It didn’t even faze him he just called you that. He was far too uncomfortable to feel the embarrassment from a nickname he should’ve saved until a little later.

“I’m not... Too good with heights. Never have been... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His voice was slow and faint, and you were beginning to suspect he was having a panic attack. “... Sorry if I seem a little lame.”

“No, of course not.” You frowned. “Things like this happen. Just breathe with me, okay? You can do it. Just count to ten.”

Arthur took a deep inhale. “... Okay.”

Around ten minutes later of these exchanges, he calmed down some, especially when you kept on reminding him that the carriage was finally descending. Once the ride was over, you had to help him up and walk him out. Now that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, it didn’t take long for him to recover. Even then, you remained rather cautious and stuck with him on your journey to Soho. By the time everyone took their seats in Circolo Popolare, a beautiful Italian restaurant Arthur so kindly booked, you were still looking out for him.

Leaning over to rest your head on the table, you glanced up at his face with a soft smile. “... You okay now?”

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded. You didn’t need to be this observant with him considering he was well now, but he loved your attentiveness. It wasn’t something he was used to. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. Now quit worrying about me, alright?” Rubbing the nape of his neck at that, you couldn’t help lingering on his body language for a moment.

It didn’t matter what he dressed like, or what his personality was. He could be endearing when it came to it, and a total softie too. And the thought made you smile even wider. If he thought you were cute, then you thought he was adorable. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” You slowly turned to Ivan, the action making Arthur tense up a little.

Reaching out to your hand, he took it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

The feeling of his warm fingers around yours made your heart skip a beat. Did he just? Your thoughts manifested into your look of shock, and you darted your eyes over his neutral expression to try and decipher it. Before you could come up with anything, there was a phone in your face, followed by a flash.

“Wha--?”

He turned the screen to you to reveal a photo of you, and in your opinion, it was the least flattering picture anybody had ever taken of you. “I said I’d take an uglier photo of you, didn’t I?” Arthur grinned, the words acting like a cold splash of water to bring you back to reality.

“... You sneaky little shit.” You growled. “Delete that right now!”

“How about no?”

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Arthur.”

“I think you already have, love. You’re smiling right now.”

You stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, you reached out to snatch his phone right out of his hands. Tapping furiously on the screen to get rid of it, you heard his chair scrape back violently as he tried to retrieve it. “Why, you--”

But it was too late. Gone forever. Lost in the abyss of cyberspace. And so, he immediately channelled his frustration by jabbing his fingers into your sides. “If I can’t have that photo of you, at least let me do this!” You burst into a fit of laughter so loud, nearby patrons turned their heads. Only then did he pull away, leaving you to recover through breathless wheezing.

“Fuck you, Arthur.” You whispered, but it was on an affectionate note more than anything. As you glowered at him from your seat, you never noticed Ivan doing the same thing, but he was glaring at the Brit for an entirely different reason. Arthur had to be the most self-aware person out there, and to make a scene in a restaurant like this? He really fell for you, didn’t he?

When he realized Ivan’s scorching gaze burning into him, he froze.

Not just out of how intimidated he was, but the epiphany that he was right all along. Why else was he acting so out of character? The only explanation was this--in the short time of being with you, he may or may not have developed a little crush. But that was no problem, right?

All he needed to do was to ask you out.

But that would prove a task easier said than done, especially when Ivan decided to attach himself to you by the hip after that stunt. That cunning bastard knew what he was doing. After a little window shopping around Bond street and Mayfair, he stuck to you like a tattoo, and kept it up until night fell. While the group walked around Camden, Ivan kept you by his side with a firm grip on your hand.

When you asked why he was suddenly so clingy, he simply justified it with, “It’s dangerous for small people like you to wander around at night!”

But Arthur called bullshit. Especially when the other went ahead and smirked at him right after saying it. Maybe he liked you too, but was refusing to admit it. How hypocritical. If not, then he probably didn’t want you making friends when you were the only friend he had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to back down so easily. Camden may be the last destination for the night, and perhaps, the last time he’d see you again for God knows how long, but it was his trump card.

If this didn’t sweep you off your feet enough to get you to pull away from Ivan, nothing would.

As a town famous for its thriving nightlife and punk culture, it encompassed everything he was passionate about, and he’d give anything to show it to you. So he included a visit to the bar here on the agenda today, one that hosted live music. While you and Ivan got comfortable in your seats, Arthur never made a move to sit down.

It was already dim inside, so you never noticed him leave. The next time you saw him, it was a few minutes later when he was on stage with a few other musicians. Leaning forward with surprise, you watched him strap on a bright red electric guitar. Walking up to the microphone, he adjusted that. No way.

You were still trying to process him being a professional performer, but a lead singer as well?

The second he strummed the strings to start a guitar riff, he opened his mouth to start singing.

Play this while you read

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youtube

Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time

And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

His fingers never stopped moving as he belted out note after note. His voice was so different to how he talked, you had to do a double take. He sounded a little more rasp, a little more punk. To say you were impressed was an understatement.

Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance

And no one even knew it was really only you

While he jammed out on stage, he was electric. The energy in the bar exploded, and he had everyone singing along. You could almost see the confidence in him shoot up from the excitable crowd, because he was smirking.

Nice work, you did.

You’re gonna go far, kid!

Turning his head to you as he sung that line, you raised a hand to your mouth. Whether he did that on purpose or not was a mystery. But no words could describe how attractive it was. Hell, it even made you mind blank for a few moments. This was Arthur? He was like an entirely different person! Needless to say, you were completely star struck.

You couldn’t even make out what Ivan was telling you when the music was blaring in your ears. But you didn’t care. Arthur had you caught in a trance with his voice and guitar all until the end. When the song finally ended, the band bowed graciously and threw up hand signs as the audience erupted in applause and cheers.

When he stepped off the stage, you didn’t hesitate to run up to him. There, you practically pounced on him for a tight embrace. “Oh my god, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play so well! And sing, too! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You exasperated, pulling away to be met with his dazzling smile. It was the first time you’ve seen him so energetic, as if performing sparked a fire inside him that burned with youthful intensity.

“I was dying to show you all day. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I had to save the best til’ last, didn’t I?” He grinned, feeling his heart swell up with warmth as he watched you light up.

“Well, good on you! I loved it!” Squeezing him again, you felt his chest shake under his laughs. When you pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. But it felt so natural in the spur of the moment, even he didn’t seem to care.

“Thanks again for today, Arthur. I really appreciate you taking us out today. You completely blew me away.”

The way how you phrased it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. That was right. He still had to ask you out. And with Ivan watching on from afar, this was his chance. The thought reddened his cheeks, but while you had his face in your hands, he couldn’t feel more comfortable. “Is that so? If that’s the case, how about I take you out again?” His expression grew serious. “A proper date, I mean.”

It was your turn to blush, but you managed a quick answer.

“No need to look so serious, love. Of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

He chuckled and leaned in to peck your lips. “Stealing my vocabulary now, are we?”

“Stealing kisses now, are we?”

“Touché.”

Now a third wheel of the group, he breathed out a soft sigh and rested his cheek on his hand. “I guess my job here is done.” It didn’t really look like it, but he had been trying to play the wingman all along. Arthur was always one to go a little crazy when he wanted something, and only more so when he was desperate. So all he gave him was a little push in the right direction.

Maybe he would thank him later, but for now, he’d leave you two be.

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia #aph #aph england #england x reader #aph england x reader #arthur kirkland #request #oneshot #hetalia x reader #Axis Powers Hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア #alfredosauce50 #hetalia fanfic #ivan braginsky #aph russia #aph russia x reader #reader insert #x reader

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace ) Jungkook x OC

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Author’s Note : This isn’t a chapter update. Just a snippet of how they met ;)

Two Years Ago ~ How they met.

“So, first day at work?” My sister gave me a bright, vibrant grin as she watched me shimmy into my slacks , struggling to yank the skin tight fabric up my legs.

I was half tempted to just choose something a little less form fitting but, Jung Hoseok, my soon to be boss was a hot piece of ass and I wanted to make an impression.

The kind of impression that would end in me , under him , horizontally. And him well, inside me preferably. God , he looked so hot in those fitted suits of his , dark hair falling into his face . That sharp as a blade jawline and that beautiful damn smile. He was so humble and friendly, which meant that he had a gorgeous daddy dick and knew exactly how to use it.

My sister, so attuned to my thinking , read my mind like a book.

“Don’t even think about sleeping with your boss again. That's how you got fired the last time remember?” She said sharply.

I rolled my eyes.

“I quit. Because he lied about being divorced. There’s a difference.”

“Still Hobi is a stickler for rules , don’t do anything stupid.” She warned.

I grinned a bit.

My perfect, holier than thou sister would never understand the thrill of good sex, I thought . And one look at Hoseok told me that he had bomb dick game. And men didn’t really care about rules when they saw my ass in this particular pair of pants. It was a theory tested and proven.

“Its not stupid to want to ride a gorgeous man into the sunset. It’s the only fairytale ending I believe in “ I said loftily.

“Well, I’m only looking out for you , Areum. I am incredibly proud of you for landing this job. Jeon Inc., is one of the biggest conglomerates in our country. You did well.” She looked annoyingly bright and cheerful for someone who had actually got up at the ass crack of dawn to make me breakfast and had then driven half way across Seoul to deliver it at my apartment.

I loved her with my whole entire heart but my sister had a tendency to sometimes treat me like I was still five years old.

Which I loved, most of the time.

But not when I was already running late for the first day of work.

“unnie, i love you but you need to go suck Seokjin’s dick and leave me alone.” I grinned wide at her and she turned an alarming shade of red.

“Areum!!!!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you’ve familiarized yourself with all the Office policies, right?” Hoseok narrowed his eyes at me and I groaned.

“Yes.” i muttered, morose.

“Yes?”

“Yes sir.” I groaned. God, he made me want to kneel down and suck his dick but also made me want to knee him in said dick, at the same damn time.

“Especially the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office and the dress code.”

I gritted my teeth.

Ugh, no amount of daddy dick was worth putting up with being talked to like an errant school girl ,

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, we have a well stocked wardrobe department in the fifth floor. I would suggest you go change into a more suitable pair of work pants “ He waved his hand, dismissing me and I turned around, trudging back to my desk.

So much for nailing the boss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was a little awed that the company had a bunch of things for the employees . Things I’d never heard of before. There was an actual ‘nap’ room where you could take a twenty five minute nap , once a day. A wardrobe department for when you needed to change your clothes and a whole garden out in the terrace for team meetings that were informal.

Apparently, the entire set up had been designed by the younger Jeon kid, Jeon Jungkook. The whole thing was patented in his name and he was also a super talented digital artist, evident in the bazillion gorgeous murals mounted all over the office, all of them signed with a beautifully scripted “JK”.

I hadn’t met him yet but he was apparently incredibly smart, incredibly handsome and also the biggest man-whore in the entirety of Seoul.

Which fair enough. i didn’t begrudge good men the right to pussy. And if he was getting so much of it, he was probably good at what he did. That was cool.

What wasn’t cool, was him apparently leaving his cum stained fucking pants in the closet in the Women’s section . The same closet i had dug into five minutes ago looking for appropriate clothes , only to have my hands met with a damp, sticky white mess that clung to my fingers like ...well like cum.

“What the fuck....!!!” I screeched in disbelief, stumbling back and landing hard on my ass, shaking my hand in despair like that could get rid of the grossly disgusting mess that now coated my digits.

Completely out of it, I wiped the mess on my blouse of all thing, realizing a split second too late , what a bad idea that was.

“Oh, gross!!” I sobbed out in disbelief .

“You alright, angel?”

The words came from right behind me and i whirled around, surprised.

I got the wind knocked out of me as i stared at the fine , fine specimen standing in front of me. ‘

it was a face that looked like it was straight out of the most luxurious fashion magazines in the world. Beautiful ebony black hair that fell into deep, almond shaped doe eyes. Eyes that fairly glittered with mischief. He had a nice strong nose and a beautifully red pair of lips , quirked up in a wide smile.

“You alright?” His voice was perfect, not too deep but with a masculine cadence to it.

He was completely shirtless, grinning like it was going out of style, as he pulled on pants over his gloriously muscled thighs. I watched him carefully tuck his underwear in, before buttoning the pair of jeans up.

He was tall, just a little shy of six feet and had the body of Adonis, with broad shoulders, beautiful pecs and drool worthy abs that tapered to a ridiculously tiny waist.

I stared down at my hands and his eyes followed mine.

“Oh, my bad. I thought that was the closet for the used clothes.” He grinned unrepentant.

it took me a second to realize that it was his cum.

I was covered in his cum.

“What?!” I hissed in disbelief , staring at him in pure horror.

He held his hands up.

“This is not my fault. The girl told me she’d swallow every drop of it and then choked half way through-”

“Oh my fucking God...” I groaned in disgust.

“Although I’m not complaining now... Wouldn’t have met you if it weren’t for her... What’s your name, pretty?”

I stared at him, slightly slack jawed.

What kind of a man whore-

I froze.

No way. It can’t be.

“Jeon Jung Kook.” I said drily.

His eyes widened.

“Well now you have the advantage ....i don’t know your name.” He pouted.

“You should be in a cage.” I snapped, turning back to grab the nearest skirt. I moved to leave but he stepped in my way, blocking the path with both hands held up.

“What are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

Jungkook chuckled.

“Come on baby..Don’t be mad.. Its just a little bit of cum. Granted you did not get the pleasure of getting it out of me yourself but that can easily be remedied if you just-”

“You will not have a dick to cum out of , if you don’t move right now.” i warned him.

Jugkook’s eyes widened at that.

“Um... you do realize who I am?” He smirked.

“A man whore with bad taste in hook-ups? A girl who can’t even swallow? Really Jeon, how desperate were you ?” I smiled.

His eyes danced at that.

“ Not as desperate as I am now.... Go out with me.”

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Not happening. Get out of my way.”

Jungkook let out an actual groan at that but he moved aside nonetheless.

“What??..come on, please , angel, just one date.....”

I shook my head.

“ I’ll send you the bill for my dry cleaning Jeon.” I flipped him off before stalking right out of the room.

“Gonna make you fall in love with me, new girl.” He called out from behind me.

I scoffed at that.

Yeah right.

Author’s Note : I had to write their first meeting okay???? I’ll update tomorrow or the day after .

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@unicornbabylover

@ggukkieland

@yoongisdragon

@aamxxrii

@brooky95

@apollukee

@taesgalore

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut #bts au

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kpophours · 4 years

Text

Way to You

➵ Stray Kids: Bang Chan x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, friends to lovers AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, a teeny tiny bit sexual suggestiveness (nothing explicit)

➵ word count: 5.7k

You are in trouble.

You are in really big trouble.

Staring at the sleeping person beside you, you think about what to do next.

Maybe you could move to a different country, take on the maiden name of your mother and become a dog sitter. You like dogs! Love them, even. Cats too, you’re not picky.

Or maybe you could apply to be one of those people being shot into space to colonize Mars. It’s probably chill up there - not many people, and even better: no Chan. Probably no wifi too, though. But well, you like reading so you could always pass time by bringing enough books, right?

Or maybe, as an easier and far less dramatic solution: you could just pretend to not remember anything from last night - honestly, from the way your head is pounding right now, it doesn’t even seem that far fetched.

For now you decide to just slide out of bed before the man beside you wakes from his deep slumber, and to flee from his house, hoping no one is going to see you. No witnesses, no crime, right?

At least you’re still wearing a shirt and most of your underwear, so … it could be worse.

Probably.

Right?!

You take in a deep breath and carefully lift the blanket, slowly wiggling towards the edge of the bed. Before you can successfully escape though, Chan beside you groans, and wraps one arm around your waist to pull you close to his own warm body again. You almost squeal, but manage to press your lips together to stifle the noise.

Chan’s breathing is soft and steady - so for now, he’s still asleep, but you need to get away from him as quickly as possible. So you try to escape for a second time, carefully prying his arm from your body and placing it back on the mattress. This time, you successfully slide out of bed, silently landing on your feet and almost losing your balance - you are in desperate need of some water, it seems. Dehydration is no joke, kids. Quietly, you slip into your jeans and grab your bra dangling from a bedpost. You also look for your purse but after being unable to locate it, you finally tiptoe out of the room. As soon as you’ve managed to close the door behind you, you exhale, relief spreading through your whole body. You’re fine, you’re good, you’re almost out of here! You pretty much run towards the bathroom, and suppress a groan when you see your tired hangover face staring back at you in the mirror. After drinking some water straight from the tap, you wash off the pitiful rest of your makeup, put your hair up into a ponytail and deem yourself ready to leave the solidarity of the bathroom again - and to face whoever’s already awake.

The frat house is almost eerily quiet at this time of day, so you try not to make a sound while sneaking downstairs, cringing whenever one of the steps creaks under your weight. You sigh in relief when you’ve finally made it downstairs, and begin to smile when you spot your purse dangling from the back of a chair. To your delight, the keys to your flat, your wallet and phone are all still in there. Maybe the world isn’t as bad of a place as you’re sometimes making it out to be. “Morning.” You squeal and turn around, hand clutching your chest. Hyunjin chuckles when he sees your shocked expression, and silently toasts you with the mug he is holding in one hand. “Well don’t you look lovely so early in the morning.”, he teases, and you stick out your tongue at him. “I’m very sorry to inform you that not everyone has been blessed with a perfect morning face, oh dear Adonis.”, you just answer, and he grins. “Want some coffee”?, he asks, already reaching for a second mug, but halts in his movement when he sees your hesitant expression. Your eyes slide towards the stairwell and back at the young man in front of you again. “I- I should go.”, you say, and he just nods, hand falling away from the coffee pot. “Sure. Have a nice day, then.” For some reason, he seems disappointed, but you try not to give it too much thought. So you just smile at him, before ducking out into the hallway to grab your shoes and jacket, quickly leaving the frat house behind. It’s a cold morning for early autumn, mist hanging between the trees and making it difficult to see, and you bury both hands in your pockets while walking towards the direction of your flat. It’s weirdly quiet, and you’re almost regretting your decision to leave the house so abruptly, even though it was probably the more… sensible thing to do. Chan and you have a long, complicated history - missed opportunities, bad timing, broken hearts. For some reason, it just never seems to work between you guys. There’s always either another person standing between you, or some miscommunication happens, or he is suddenly leaving to spend a term abroad in Australia or or or … the list goes on and on. You’ve never managed to find your way to each other.

Yesterday was his welcome back party, and as part of the “inner circle”, you’d of course been invited to join the surprise gathering as well. You truly love and adore all the boys living at the frat house, even though you want to smack Minho pretty much 24/7, really dislike Hyunjin’s perfect face and superior smirk whenever he plays beer pong against you, and are almost a bit annoyed at Jeongin’s cuteness (you would probably let him get away with literal murder). You also can’t believe the amount of chicken Seungmin manages to eat in a day, and have long lost count of how many times you’ve had to drag Changbin out of the cave he calls his room so he’d finally see some sunlight again and get that vitamin D. No wonder he never grew past the 1.70m mark. Felix is the only one you’d never say anything against, the man being too sweet (and cute) for his own good. He is just sunshine personified. You’d legit burn down cities to protect him. You had met the seven young men during your freshman year, all thanks to your then new roommate and your now best friend Jisung. The others had pretty much accepted you with open arms, and almost just as quickly, you had fallen head over heels for Chan. But who can blame you? Not only is he incredibly handsome, but also funny, witty, smart and always down to clown. Your perfect man in the shape of a talented, beautiful goofball. And he seems to be more than interested in you as well, often shamelessly flirting with you, touching you more than necessary and generally being a total sweetheart towards you.

And yet - … and yet … for some reason, it just never seems to work between you two. Fate is against you, apparently.

Exhausted, you unlock the front door to the flat you share with Jisung, hoping that he is either still at his girlfriend’s place, or deeply asleep. You need a long hot shower and some alone time afterwards.

And coffee, lots of it. Or tea. One or the other, you’re honestly not picky.

Sadly, fate is against you yet again: Jisung sits at the kitchen table, dark eyes almost entirely hidden by too long hair falling into his handsome face. He should really get a haircut. As soon as he lays eyes on you, he gives you a cheeky smile. “Good moooorning.”, he says, tone of voice way too cheerful so early in the day. You sigh internally, but give him a small smile in return and murmur a greeting back. “You look awful.”, your roommate then states, and you roll your eyes at him. “I guess my exterior reflects my inner self, then.”, you grumble, and take the mug of coffee he is sliding your way with a curt nod of your head. “Rough night?”, he asks, lip twitching. You give him a critical look, gnawing on your lower lip. Jisung had left the party around 1am, his girlfriend getting tired and finally wanting to go home.

So how much does he know?

Knowing the boys … they might have instantly texted him, telling him about you staying the night.

With Chan.

In Chan’s room.

After not having seen him for six months.

After having pretty much confessed to him only seconds before he had to take a cab to get to the airport to leave for his term spent abroad.

What can you say, timing has never been one of your strong suits.

Jisung is still staring at you, obviously waiting for your answer. You snap out of your thoughts and take a sip of coffee. You grimace when the bitter taste hits your tongue; Jisung always likes his coffee a lot stronger than you. Pretty much the only strong thing about him though. “It was… long.”, you finally say, and place the mug back on the kitchen table, “And I really need a shower now.” With that, you quickly leave the kitchen again, ignoring your roommate’s low chuckle.

Oh that bastard so knows.

Meaning you have to add a few names to your death note.

Monday is the worst day of the week.

Monday should just cease to exist. Why can’t the week just begin with a nice, chill Tuesday?

You like Tuesdays. Tuesdays are cool.

Mondays on the other hand… They just don’t sit well with you.

“JISUNG, I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS BEFORE I’M GOING TO BREAK DOWN THIS DAMN DOOR!”, you yell, and continue to hammer your fist against the locked bathroom door.

He’s been in there for almost an hour now, probably using up all the hot water. You can’t believe he’s doing this to you. There’s only about twenty minutes left before you have to leave for your first class, and you definitely need a hot shower and some concealer. Maybe a miracle. Where’s your make-over-sequence when you need it?! Why are you not a young heroine in a quirky rom-com, then you’d probably look perfectly styled all the time. But no, you’ll probably have to go to class with greasy third-day-hair, sweatpants and the biggest eye bags the world has ever seen. Fifty shades of dark circles under your eyes - the perfect movie title should your life ever get turned into one. Probably a solid 10% on Rotten Tomatoes, maybe 15% if the viewers feel generous. Your life just ain’t that interesting so far.

“JI-FUCKING-SUNG!” You kick the door - or well, you want to. Because in that second, your roommate finally decides to open it, so you accidentally kick his shin instead of the wooden door. He yelps, and doubles over in pain. “Hey, I thought you were a pacifist. Violence is never the answer and all that stuff!”, he complains, voice laced with pain, and you feel like, 20% sorry. Or maybe only 15%. “It’s your own fault if you need half an eternity to get ready.”, you scoff, and squeeze past him to get inside the bathroom and to finally take your long awaited shower. “Aren’t you a joy to have around in the morning.”, Jisung just replies, and you flip him off before closing the door into his puffy morning face.

You’re almost late to class, but not because you took too long in the bathroom, oh no. This is Jisung’s fault again - being the annoying parasite that he simply is, he used up the last of your favorite tea, meaning you had to search through the kitchen cabinets to find your less tasty emergency back-up tea. Finding it had taken way too long, because about two weeks ago, Jisung had randomly decided to move everything around inside the cabinets, and now you can’t find shit anymore. He should really get a hobby or two.

You’re out of breath by the time you reach the lecture hall, and almost frozen to death thanks to the temperature dropping way too low last night. Your hair is still wet because you didn’t have time to blow dry it this morning, so you know you’ll look like a crazy witch in approximately half an hour. Having unruly hair is fun. “Hey, Y/N!”, someone yells as soon as you walk through the door, and you jump, almost spilling the back-up tea all over yourself. Thankfully, you manage to maneuver the small thermos flask away from your body, so the hot liquid spills onto the floor instead of your clothes. You shoot a silent apology to the cleaning staff. Your eyes zone in on the person responsible for your near-death-experience, and you groan when Minho flashes you a cheeky smile. It’s way too early to deal with demons, you decide, and are about to turn around and search for a more welcoming or even unfamiliar face in the crowd of students, when Hyunjin appears at your side, mirroring Minho’s gleeful expression.

“Hell’s empty and all the devils are here.”, you mutter under your breath, and Hyunjin laughs, before shoving you towards the empty seat beside Minho. “Stop quoting Shakespeare, you drama queen.”, he just says, and takes the seat on your other side. “I still don’t understand why you had to take the same class as me this term. There are endless other classes you could have chosen. Endless, I’m telling you!”, you mumble, expression grumpy. Minho chuckles. “And rid you of our extremely pleasant company and highly amusing commentary? Never.” You just scoff and open your backpack, rummaging through it until you find your small notebook and pen. Call you old fashioned but you actually like to take notes by hand, eyeing Minho’s sleek MacBook Pro with slight distaste (and maybe a hint of envy). Hyunjin’s doing… better, you guess, because he too is taking notes by hand, but he just has a random assortment of loose paper instead of a bound notebook. You already know he’ll have lost half his notes by the end of the day and will probably ask to borrow yours. Oh that sweet chaos boy.

“How was the rest of your weekend?”, Minho asks, “You were gone by the time we all got up on Saturday, people were really sad and disappointed by your sudden disappearance, you know.” His tone of voice is innocent, too innocent. You know exactly who “people” includes. Oh, you know it way too well. “I had things to do.”, you answer curtly, eyes stubbornly trained at the front of the room where the teacher’s just trying to set up his laptop. You hope he’ll hurry, because you really don't want to continue talking to Hyunjin and Minho. But apparently, the teacher is a hopeless case, looking at the different cables with a big question mark on his face. What is it with boomers and technology, honestly. “Come on, my dude. Please hurry.”, you whisper, watching the man intensely, both eyebrows drawn together. You try to send him mental strength, because he actually looks like he’s about to cry. You’d go and help him if you weren’t sitting at the very back of the lecture hall. Hyunjin pokes your cheek, and you jump. “Answer us, coward.”, he says, sounding way too pleased. “My weekend was fine. The hangover was uncool, but I spent the rest of the day destroying Jisung at Mario Kart and eating greasy food, so it could have been worse. Sunday was uneventful, I just caught up with some of my reading materials for class this week.”, you recap your last two days in a flat voice, “How about you guys?” “Those were the oh-so-important things you “had to do”? Groundbreaking, truly.” You ignore Minho’s sarcasm and begin to play with the cap of your pen. “Well we had to clean the house after Chan’s welcome home party, of course. And then he showed us some of the pictures he took in Australia - there was this one really cute one where he was cuddling a koala, I’m sure you’d love it.”, Hyunjin tells you, and you’re this close to kicking him. How dare he put the mental image of Chan cuddling a koala in your head. You hate how much you love it. Just because you really like koalas of course, this has nothing to do with Chan himself. If you repeat it over and over again, you might actually believe it one day. Probably not. Ugh, Hyunjin and Minho are truly the worst possible friends you could ask for. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these. “Cool.”, you just murmur, and thank the Heavens above when you see that some student has finally taken mercy on your teacher and is helping him set up. Soon after, the lecture begins, and as annoying as Hyunjin and Minho may be, they usually do take their studies seriously, so they finally shut up and leave you be. You sigh in relief, and begin taking notes as well.

You don’t even know why you agreed to come.

You don’t want to be here.

At the frat house.

Again.

You were just here last week, and everyone knows how that ended.

You had managed to avoid seeing Chan all week - not that it was difficult, seeing as you don’t share a single class with him. But he hasn’t texted you either, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a teeny tiny bit disappointed.

You grind your teeth, cursing Jisung and his stupidly cute hamster cheekies and puppy eyes. You hate to admit it, but you’re prepared to give him just about anything whenever he looks at you with his deep brown eyes while puffing out his cheeks. Honestly, what did the Universe think all those years ago, bringing him into your life?! Why couldn’t someone else have answered your ad about searching for a new roommate? Why did it have to be Jisung?

This whole mess is really just Jisung’s fault.

If it weren’t for him, you’d probably never have met the perfection that is Christopher Bang Chan.

“Are you trying to set the house on fire by staring at it? Because I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m pretty sure it ain’t gonna work.”, your best friend says, voice laced with barely hidden glee.

He knows how much you hate being here. You had only agreed to come after Jisung had promised Chan wouldn’t be here this evening. Pinky-promised, even! But you already see his car parked outside the frat house, and that can only mean one thing - Jisung has betrayed you. That bastard. This is how Jesus must have felt when he found out about Judas’s betrayal. Or Caesar, when he was stabbed by those closest to him, including his own son Brutus. You really can’t trust men. Your heart aches for your other best friend, but of course she just had to graduate top of her class and therefore go attend the most prestigious university in the country. Meaning she’s about a thousand miles away from you right now. In the end, you really can’t trust anyone, huh. But especially not men. And especially not Jisung, it seems.

“You’re less funny than you think.”, you just answer flatly, and your roommate scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. We both know the Universe has blessed me with both devilishly handsome looks and an amazing and unique humor.”, he replies, and now you really want to smack him. But being a self-proclaimed pacifist, you just take in a deep breath and decide to only think about all the ways you would murder him if you were a cold-blooded killer and not a usually soft tempered college student. “Come on, don’t be a party pooper and let’s finally go inside, I’m freezing.” And with that, your best friend simply drags you towards the front door.

Judas and Brutus have nothing on Jisung, you decide. Because the second you step inside the living room of the frat house, you’re greeted by the charms (the Chan arms). It’s way too cold to be wearing a sleeveless shirt, but Chan didn’t get the memo apparently. Or maybe it’s because he’s just so hot, he doesn’t get cold, like ever.

You grimace at your own lame joke, even though you thankfully didn’t say it out loud. That would have been embarrassing.

There are a few other people here already, maybe about 15 in total, and everyone greets you and Jisung warmly. You smile and return hugs, and before you know it, Changbin has handed you some wine in a red plastic cup. How very fancy, you truly feel special tonight.

He then pushes you towards the four old, mismatched sofas taking up most of the living room space, and orders you to sit down. You’re so surprised by his commanding tone, you actually follow his request without much protest. For a few minutes, you just stay quiet and observe the small crowd of people, taking a sip of wine from time to time. It’s dry, too dry for your liking, and you’d rather have a cup of tea right now. Or well, maybe a shot of vodka - because suddenly, Chan is making his way towards you. Your eyes dart around the room, and you desperately try not to look at him. He looks so good. Too good. No one needs that much beauty, this is truly just excessive. His black hair looks so shiny, you just want to run your fingers through it. And his deep dark eyes, perfect to drown in. You just want to touch his arms and see if his muscles are as hard as they look. He even has a perfectly cute smile, that bastard. It’s just too much, he’s just too much.

Before you can get up and flee from the scene, Chan falls onto the ground beside you, and gives you his signature cheery smile. His lips look incredibly kissable in the dimly lit room. Ugh.

You quickly look away.

“Hi.”, he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. He has too much power over you, and he doesn’t even know it. “Hi yourself.”, you answer quietly. “How you’ve been? We haven’t seen each other all week.”, he asks, leaning closer, his right arm brushing against your left one in the process. He smells really good and you can’t help but deeply inhale. “Yeah, I’ve been quite busy.”, you explain, still avoiding to look at him, but out of the corner of your eye, you see how he raises both eyebrows. “Busy? It’s only the second week of class. I didn’t know you’ve become such a geek while I was gone.”, he says, but his soft smile indicates he’s just joking. You shrug, and take another sip of the too dry wine. You grimace again.

It’s disgusting, really, and you don’t even know why you’re still drinking it.

Chan takes the cup out of your hand, and eyes it suspiciously before taking a sip as well. His face says it all, the wine truly is disgusting. “What is this!? A liquid from Hell?!”, he asks and shudders, and you break into a smile. “Considering you live with at least two demons, it’s not that far fetched.”, you answer, and he tilts his head to one side. “What did Hyunjin and Minho do now?”, he sighs, and you shrug. “They were themselves.” Chan chuckles, mumbles “That actually says it all.” under his breath and leans back against the sofa. He’s still looking at you, and you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. Really uncool of your body to just betray you like that. Mind over matter, you think, and dare the blush to just go away and leave you be. It doesn’t work though. Years of evolution and you’re still unable to command your body the way you want to. How incredibly rude. Darwin would be so disappointed.

“I missed you, Y/N.”, Chan suddenly says, his voice barely above a whisper. You finally turn towards him, and lock eyes with him. His expression is soft and his eyes earnest. You give him the smallest of smiles. “I… well, I missed you too.”, you finally confess, heart fluttering when he breaks into a bright smile. He lifts his hand to brush some of your hair behind your ear, all while still intensely looking at you. Your heart rate immediately flatlines, and you think you might have a very spontaneous case of strong asthma, because your lungs are apparently giving up on you as well. You basically drown in Chan’s eyes, their warm brown so familiar.

“MY DEAREST DUDES AND DUDETTES!”, Seungmin suddenly yells - a beautiful alliteration, you think -, making both you and Chan jump. You hurriedly bring some space between your bodies, almost having forgotten about not being alone in the room. You can feel Hyunjin, Minho and Jisung looking at you, all three sporting matching, shit-eating grins.

Maybe being a pacifist is not the right way to go through life after all, because right now, you really just want to punch them. Only lovingly, of course, but with enough strength nevertheless.

“Thank you for joining us on this wonderful Friday evening, and welcome to this month’s game and drinking night! I see most of you have already found your seats, so everyone who’s still standing, please go and sit on your butt, thank you very much.” Seungmin grins and waits for everyone to follow his words. He should really consider quitting law school to become a tv host instead of a lawyer. When everyone’s finally seated, he grabs an empty bowl from the shelf behind him and holds it up into the air, its blue glass catching the light. “Everyone, please write down your names on the slips of paper provided for you, and then we shall begin playing our first game of the night.”

It takes almost ten minutes for everyone to write down their names, mostly because there aren’t enough pens for everyone, so people keep fighting over them. After everyone’s finally done, Seungmin collects the slips of paper again, and puts them in his bowl, shuffling through them. “First game of the night is Seven minutes in Heaven.”, he says, his smile cheeky. You groan internally. He can’t be serious. But apparently, he is - because he fumbles for two paper slips, about to declare the first names. “Fingers crossed for it to be Hyunjin and Minho, just because I wanna see their faces.”, you mumble, and Chan beside you chuckles. “Well now I really want to see that, too.”, he replies in a low voice, leaning closer so you can hear him. You gulp nervously, and are about to answer, when Seungmin clears his throat. “Y/N, Chan? Did you not hear me?”, he asks innocently, and you turn towards him, both your expressions questioning. For someone so cute looking, Seungmin can be really evil sometimes, his smile almost devilish right now. “You’re the first ones up. Now go, have fun. Your seven minutes will begin as soon as you close the door behind you.” You’re actually speechless for once, just blinking at the man in front of you. This can’t be happening. He can’t be serious. There is no way this is a coincidence. You know Seungmin and the other boys too well for that. God, you really should have written all their names into your death note when you had the chance. You’re about to demand for Seungmin to show you the slips of paper in his hand, when - “Uh, well… Let’s go, then.”, Chan finally says, and takes your hand in his to help you up from the floor and drag you towards the little broom cabinet under the stairs.

How very Harry Potter-like.

The last thing you see before Seungmin closes the door in your face, is his stupid smirk.

Oh how much you hate him and the others right now.

It’s dark inside the cabinet, only some light falling through the slits around the door, but it’s too dim to see anything. Dust tickles your nose, and you have to suppress a sneeze. Chan standing opposite you clears his throat. “So.”, he says, and you shift from one foot to the other. The cabinet is small enough for your bodies to be almost touching. You can feel the heat radiating off him and want nothing more than to cuddle to his chest. “So.”, you repeat. “Here we are.”, Chan says. You just chuckle and nervously rub the palms of your hands together, air thick with tension. Before you can say anything else, Chan takes a step closer to you, hot breath fanning over your face. He smells like mint mixed with alcohol. It’s a nice combination, you think. But then again, you’d probably like anything on him. He’s Chan, after all.

Your Chan.

You shiver involuntarily, his close proximity making you almost a bit dizzy. “Are you cold?”, he murmurs, voice low and silky. Goosebumps rise all over your body and you shake your head - until you remember he obviously can’t see it in the darkness. “Not really.”, you whisper back, breath hitching when he suddenly wraps both arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest. You can feel his rapid heartbeat under the palm of your hand, mirroring your own. “Why did you leave last week?”, he asks, sounding more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard before. You gulp and bite down on your lower lip. Guilt washes over you. “Technically you left first - for Australia, remember?”, you shoot back, a really weak and sad attempt if you’re being honest. “You know I never would have left if I didn’t have to.”, he says, and you sigh. You know that, of course you do. Chan is a nice, good guy, a really nice, good guy. It had been stupid of you to confess your love for him right before he had to go. In the end, your broken heart had been no one’s fault except your own. You take in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do - I wasn’t sure how you’d react, waking up next to me after all those months of not talking.”, you confess, voice soft and tiny, and duck your head.

Chan’s hand brushes against your cheek, and he lifts your chin with two fingers. “I would have been happy. I would have kissed you good morning before making you some tea. And then I would have stayed in bed all day, cuddling you and showing you all the cool pictures I took in Australia.”, he murmurs, thumb tracing gentle patterns on your cheek. You exhale, sounding wobbly. “That would have been nice.”, you answer, and can almost feel his bright and relieved smile. “Well, tomorrow is Saturday again. So maybe we can just have a do-over.”, he asks, lips awfully close to your own now. “I think I’d like that - I’d really like that.”, you mumble against his lips, and then - finally - he kisses you. Fireworks burst behind your closed eyelids, and you quickly wrap your arms around Chan’s neck to pull him even closer. Now that you’ve started, it seems you can’t get enough of each other - what starts out as a slow, romantic kiss quickly becomes a clashing of tongues and teeth, and when he bites down on your lower lip, you can’t help but moan into his mouth, a hot, tingling feeling shooting through your entire body. All you can think right now is that you never want this moment to end - you’ve been waiting for this for so long. You’ve been waiting for him to finally find his way to you. And you yourself are just so, so tired of running away from him. Never before has anything ever felt so right.

You’re interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, and immediately jump apart, breaking the kiss. You’re both breathless, chests heaving, and even though you can’t see right now, you know that your hair is a total mess, your lips are swollen and your cheeks flushed. “Your seven minutes are over, so you better be decent!”, Minho says from outside, and before either you or Chan can reply, he opens the door. Light floods the tiny cabinet, and you blink against it, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The first thing you see when your eyes have finally gotten used to the brightness again, is Minho’s shit-eating grin. He stands in the hallway with both his arms crossed and head tilted to one side. “Well, well, well. Heaven sure seems to be as magical as they say, huh?”, he just says, and you really want to smack the grin off his stupidly handsome face.

But Chan just laughs, and grabs your hand, lifting it to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. You’re ready to just faint right there and then, knees almost buckling from the sweet gesture. Who cares about Minho’s stupid grin when Chan is being perfect again. “Truly magical, yes.”, Chan just answers good-humoredly, and tugs you out of the broom closet, “Well, if you’d excuse us now.” And with that, he simply drags you up the stairs and towards his room. “Hey, where you’re going?!”, Minho and Hyunjin yell in unison, and you look over your shoulder to give them a cheeky grin. “Chan has some pictures he wants to show me - someone told me there’s a really cute one where he cuddles a koala. I finally want to see that now.”, you answer innocently, and wink at them. Chan laughs and quickly pulls you close, kissing you again. You ignore the clapping and cheering noises the others make downstairs. God, your friends are really embarrassing sometimes. But maybe you’re not as sorry anymore about not having written any of them into your death note. Because as stupid and embarrassing as they often are, you do truly adore every single one of them. “You know what, I think that particular picture would make a really cute background for your phone.”, Chan murmurs against your lips, and you raise both eyebrows. “Oh, I bet.”, you just answer, and smile at him.

… Spoiler alert: it’s actually the perfect background for your phone.

[masterlist] | [requests]

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sapphiics · 3 years

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All I wanna get is(just a little more closer)

a/n: I listened to Nights by Frank Ocean for a good two and a half hours straight writing this.

dt: @ellesgreenaway india you are the sole reason i finished this I really needed the encouragement thank you so much babes

word count: 1.7k

content warning: none! it’s barely angsty and includes a happy ending

———

“You didn’t have to walk me home.”

“I mean I’m pretty sure you were invited to at least three different after parties.” JJ continues, turning towards Elle. The two of them were walking home from the last football game of the season. Their last one ever, senior year finally upon them.

“Parties that I’m not even remotely interested, seeing as how you’re not gonna be there.” Elle’s hair tossing over her shoulder as she looks at JJ. Her silky brown hair, curly and damp after tonight’s game.They’re natural, sitting just below Elle’s shoulders, framing her face perfectly. JJ’s always liked the curls.

Truth be told, JJ’s liked just about everything concerning Elle Greenaway, since the day she looked out her bedroom window to see a U-Haul truck parked outside, a young girl moving boxes into the house across the street in November of junior year. It didn’t help that Elle happened to be a star soccer player at her old school, and their similar interests meant JJ and her had 5 classes together. Or that she wore the same vanilla perfume single day, a scent JJ couldn’t get out of her head.

But it was when Elle really started being close with her, the two of them practically joined at the hip, that JJ’s innocent infatuation turned deeper. When they started going to practice together, getting lunch, meeting up outside of school. Sleepovers in JJ’s bed, their legs intertwined under the heavy quilt she uses as a comforter. She can still remember the first night the two of them shared the same bed, facing each other with their hands folded under their heads. The following morning brings the brutal news to JJ’s heart, that she has the biggest crush on her best friend. A crush that’s only intensified as the months go by, to the point where JJ finds herself both wanting to be around Elle constantly, and wishing the brunette was far away from her as to prevent further heartbreak. But Elle was irresistible, and JJ couldn’t avoid her even if she wanted to. So she shoved it down, deep down into her stomach, convincing herself that she and Elle could be friends. Just friends.

Only ever friends.

The ever so prominent fact that Elle still thought JJ was dating somebody only made matters worse.

She wasn’t wrong to think so, considering up until three days ago, JJ had been in a steady relationship with Will Lamontagne. The charming country boy, Will came to their school just a couple months before Elle did, and him and JJ hit it off like nobody else. He was sweet, unassuming, and treated her with nothing but respect. From the moment he met her parents, Mr & Mrs. Jareau have been daydreaming over their future wedding. Everybody expected them to make it, the one couple from high school to go the distance, stick it out to the inevitable end. Half the town’s got bets on them getting married right after graduation.

But Will wasn’t clueless, and JJ had never been the best at hiding her emotions. After all, there was a reason they worked so well together for so long. He may not be her great love, but he knew her and her feelings, a fact that kept JJ with him for almost a year. Despite how much he loved her, and he did love her, Will knew it wasn’t reciprocated, and JJ was never going to break his heart. Nothing surprised her more than to see him at her doorstep that Tuesday afternoon, a medium-sized cardboard box in his hands.

Her volleyball sweatshirt hanging over the edge, a picture of the two of them at homecoming sticking out of the box. The overwhelming sorrow she could feel radiating from him as he broke up with her already made her feel awful, but it was the sincerity in his voice when he told her to be with who truly makes her happy that broke her. A pointed look ,silently telling her that he knows, brings tears to her eyes and forces her arms to wrap tightly around his neck. Twisting her hands in his shirt and breathing in the smell of aftershave and pine that always came Will, JJ loved him more in that moment than she ever could remember in the 8 months they’ve been dating.

Which brings her back to the present, where she finds Elle looking at her strangely, a nervous yet curious look on her face. Which unnerves JJ, considering Elle isn’t nervous about anything. She’s always been the more confident, teetering on brash, one of the pair. “I found out something interesting today,” Elle starts, “Apparently somebody broke up with their long term boyfriend this week and neglected to tell me.” Her mildly accusing tone caused JJ to stop and turn fully towards Elle. “I figured it wasn’t important,” she shrugs, “ I wasn’t heartbroken and we had a busy week to focus on anyway.”

“You guys dated for nine months, this is practically a divorce.” Elle laments, looping her arm through JJ’s and leaning into the blonde, “Obviously you’re feeling something about this, and I want to be there for you.” Her voice turns soft at the end, and JJ finally meets Elle’s eyes, the care and love in her face shining.

The love JJ can see Elle has for her is almost stifling, stealing her breath and making her heart ache. What she would give to have that love mirror hers, for Elle to want the same things JJ’s wanted for the past year. The two of them stare into each other’s eyes, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and JJ can smell the strong scent of Elle’s trademark icebreakers. She could've sworn Elle glanced down at her lips when her tongue poked out and swiped against them, glossing over the cracks caused by the impending winter. Whatever was happening between them ended almost as soon as it began, a fleeting moment that passed far too quickly for JJ’s taste.

“So don’t bottle it up and tell me next time,” Elle says, giving JJ an exaggerated eye roll, following up with a large grin across her face as she starts to pick up speed. JJ lags behind her, not ready to go home just yet. They still reach her house in no time, and JJ finds herself desperate for more time with her, just the two of them in their own little bubble separate from the world. She gradually slows as they approach her walkway, JJ hoping she doesn’t have to say anything, that Elle will just know what she wants.

“You wanna go to the park?” Elle suddenly says ,the words ones that JJ desperately wanted to hear. She nods feverishly, her cheeks heating up as Elle slides her hand down her arm, grasping JJ’s. The pair walk in relative silence, Elle’s soft hands fitting perfectly into her own, their shoulders pressed together as they march towards the tiny playground in their cul-de-sac. It’s only when they’re sitting side by side at the top of the slide when Elle finally spits out what JJ can tell she’s been waiting to say all evening.

“ Why are you so okay about this?” At JJ’s surprised face Elle backtracks, “ I mean if you dated for so long and you loved each other then how are you so okay about it? It took me a good month to get over my last girlfriend, and we weren’t half as serious as you and Will.”

JJ sighs, the words on the tip of her tongue since the breakup really settled in, “ I guess I just wanted something more, I mean Will is a great guy, but I want to feel more than just complacent in a relationship, you know?” JJ lets out a small huff at the end, her breath clouding up in front of her. “ I felt so guilty about it, but I never,” she pauses, an odd sense of vulnerability she’s scared to give in to settling inside of her, “ I never yearned for Will. I mean, he was there and he made me happy, but I would be completely okay without him.”

“I just want someone I can’t live without, someone who I want to be with always.” Finally letting out what she’s been thinking this entire week, she’s surprised to see Elle sitting closer, her hands in both of JJ’s.

“You want passion.”

Elle turns her entire body towards JJ, keeping their hands intact as she stares into the blonde’s eyes.

“You want someone who can’t be replaced.” JJ can’t look away, even as she feels Elle’s hands slide up her arm. Her breath starts coming quicker, and she can feel her hair getting pushed back by Elle’s slender fingers as they get impossibly closer.

“You deserve to be completely in love with whoever you’re with JJ. You deserve the best.” Elle sliding her hand closer to the back of JJ’s head, their noses grazing each other. “You think so?” JJ’s voice a small whisper she slides her fingers towards Elle’s waist, her heart near beating out of her chest. The insecure part of her brain convincing her that this was a dream, one of the many she’s had about her best friend.

But then Elle leans in that last inch, cradling JJ’s head in her hand, and there was no doubt in her brain that this was real. Cause Elle’s lips were just as soft as they looked, and they moved against JJ’s in a gentle yet all-consuming way that wiped away everything from her mind except this moment. JJ could taste the fruitiness of Elle’s raspberry gum, and the peach slushie they shared during halftime was still faint in her mouth. It’s like everything she was missing out on, all the emptiness she felt when with Will, was getting filled to the brim by Elle and her kisses, overwhelming JJ in the most addictive way.

When they finally separate, small pants the only sound they can hear as their foreheads touch, something akin to fear strikes through JJ. The knowledge that nothing is ever going to be the same between them hitting her like a freight train.

“ I do,” followed by a chaste peck, “ Of course I do.” And Elle’s grinning at her, trailing her long fingers through JJ’s hair, easing every single worry she could possibly have.

taglist: @greenaway-lewis @scandinavian-punk @ssajelle @morcias @suburban--gothic @jemilyology @rosesblueviolets @willlemonheadsupremacy

#jelle #jennifer jareau #elle greenaway #jennifer jareau fic #elle greenaway fic #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jelle fanfiction #cm #criminal minds #fic rec

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eryiss · 3 years

Text

Summary: Forced to be sociable by his so called friends, Laxus finds himself attending a five week cooking class. An insulting and stupid idea, and one he resents them for doing. He would have thrown it in their faces, if it weren’t for the smug prick teaching the class, with his handsome face, delectable body, and annoyingly enticing way of keeping Laxus on his toes. [Fraxus One Shot]

Notes: Hi. I wrote this on my phone while sitting on the beach, so who knows how it’ll turn out. But it’s got them both being cocky, both being flirty, and both being in love, so what else could you want. Hope you all enjoy it.

Links: FFN, Ao3

Set To Boil

Or: 4 Times Freed taught Laxus a recipe, & 1 time Laxus returned the favour

Week One - Pizza

"Laxus, you need to get out more."

"Laxus, there's no reason for you not to give it a try."

"Laxus, you're an antisocial brat and you need to get out more."

Fuck them all. Fuck Evergreen for her haughty sense of self belief. Fuck Bickslow for having no tact and being and coming up with good points. Fuck Makarov in particular, for being a rude old coot who threatened to change the damn lock. And when Laxus found out which of the interfering bastards had been the one to come up with this stupid idea, then fuck them too.

It was ridiculous. Yes, perhaps Laxus had become somewhat insular as of late. Maybe his friends had been putting in more effort than him as of late, but it was important. He was newly hired in his sports journalism career, and he needed to focus on his writing.

What he did not need was a five week cooking course!

Why the hell did cooking courses even exist anymore? If you wanted to learn to cook, there was this brilliant new invention called a computer. They had hundreds of step by step recipes, none of which required Laxus to trudge through a damn rec-centre at eight at night!

Seriously, fuck them all.

He was late, too. The bus had missed his stop, and as such he was now ten damn minutes late. He was half-tempted to leave the rec-centre before he found his classroom - Ever, Bicks and Makarov wouldn't find out if he didn't use the damn voucher, after all - but then he would have to spend the next five weeks thinking of ways to pass the time every Thursday night. He really needed to move out of Makarov's damn apartment; the old bastard apparently had nothing better to do than to keep tabs on him. Bastard.

He was in front of the classroom door before he knew it, and he faulted. Dammit, why had he agreed to do this? Why couldn't the bus have gotten him there on time? Why was he nervous about this?

No; he was a grown man dammit. Fuck his nerves,

With false confidence, he walked into the classroom. Eight benches, all with sinks, ovens, cooktops, an array of cutlery and equipment, and a basket of ingredients filled the space. Five people stood behind some of the benches, and Laxus somewhat guilty slinked towards the nearest bench, at the back of the classroom.

"Mr Dreyar, I presume," A voice, deliciously smooth with underlying authority, made Laxus pause.

He looked up to see a man standing at the front of the room, behind a larger and more professional looking cooking worktop, and Laxus paused. If you were to encapsulate all of Laxus' ideal qualities in a man, his new teacher was apparently as close a person could come. Tall, obviously with some muscle, tight and sharp facial features, a little pale, and with long hair. He wore a button up shirt that hugged his form, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off a near-indecent amount of his forearms. He was quirking his eyebrow towards Laxus, and he felt ensnared by the expression.

Dammit, of course. Almost every other cooking class in the country would inevitable be taught by a homely housewife or a tedious Ramsay wannabe, but not his. He gets a stud with veiny forearms, high cheekbones, and narrowed eyes that made Laxus shiver.

He couldn't justify it, but Laxus was inclined to blame his grandfather for that.

"There's a bench up here, if you'd like to take it," The teacher said, motioning towards one of the cooking stations at the front of the room. Laxus cringed; even in school, he'd been one of the kids who sat at the back. That wasn't a habit he was ready to lose.

"I'd rather stay here, if it's all the same to you," Laxus mumbled, annoyed at himself for not speaking clearly. There was something about teachers that just… what did you call someone who intimidated you but also kind of excited you at the same time?

God, this was going to be awful.

"And I prefer it if my students arrived to my lessons on time," The teacher smirked a little, and Laxus almost stuttered in search of a reply. "And, as tends to happen with a student who shows up late on the first day, you'll likely act out further. As such, I want you close by so I can keep you on the straight and narrow," He tapped his finger on the surface twice. "This counter, please."

Though only a few steps, the walk to the counter at the front of the room was humiliating, it served to make the asshole teacher appear less hot, if nothing else. Because Laxus definitely did not like a man who knew how to be firm with him.

This was going to be hell, wasn't it?

At his assigned counter, Laxus felt a little lost. Nestled in the ingredients was a recipie - they were making pizza, apparently - and Laxus slightly found himself floundering. The cooking lessons weren't just to make him more sociable; he had no idea how to cook.

The teacher, who was looking at him from behind his work surface, sighed and approached Laxus. In his hand, he held a chopping board with what appeared to be a large mound of dough. He placed it before Laxus, who drowned down at it.

"Normally I would have taught you how to make dough yourself, but my plan's require the full hour," The teacher said, as if that was an explanation. "Rather than you lagging behind and not getting the whole experience, you should start from the same point everyone else is at. So put yourself to work and start to kneed this. It'll require a few more minutes to get to the right consistency."

Laxus looked down at the dough, grinding his teeth. Kneeding was rubbing it, right? And occasionally you punch it? That didn't sound right.

"Like this," The teacher said, pulling the chopping board towards him. He started to kneed the dough - it wasn't what Laxus thought it was - and the attraction came back with a sudden force. God dammit, why did his sleeves have to hug his biceps like that? That just wasn't fair.

The dough was pushed towards him again, and Laxus rolled up his sleeves and started to emulate what the teacher had done. The teacher didn't leave, and Laxus squirmed a little under, and found himself speaking to fill the silence.

"I ain't gonna learn, y'know," His mouth said before his brain could intercept. "Don't give a shit about cooking."

That a'boy Laxus. Turn up late, fail at a basic thing, and insult the guy's career. Real classy.

"You will." The teacher said, as if it were undeniable.

"I will?" Laxus scoffed.

"You will," The teacher repeated, smirking, "Once you realise what a good home cooked meal taste like, you'll be desperate to learn what else you can do."

"You seem awfully confident about that…" He drifted off; he didn't even know the damn guys name,

"Freed," The teacher supplied. "And I am confident. You'll love cooking by the end of it. I'm sure."

"You talk a big game," Laxus chuckled a little. He almost forgot he was kneeding the dough, but Freed looked down at his hands and grinned a little, which got Laxus to pause. Just because he was kneeding dough it didn't mean he cared; it was basically a workout. That was all, and Freed needed to know that. "If you're that sure, then I'm gonna insist you eat everything I make, no matter how shitty it turns out to be."

"So long as you don't sabotage yourself on purpose, I can agree to that."

Well, Laxus had slightly wanted to make Freed eat combinations of food that tasted like crap, but this could work. Laxus really was that bad of a cook, Freed might not be able to know the difference.

"Deal," Laxus nodded, offering Freed a hand to shake. The chef did so immediately, with a firm squeeze and… oh damn, those veins!

——

Week Two - Curry

Laxus had been right. Even putting in the effort and following the recipie as best he could, he was still a shitty cook. Unless, of course, a curry was meant to be accompanied by a waft of dark, burning smoke when you opened up the oven. Laxus coughed a little as he removed the dish from the oven, placing it on the counter top while shutting the oven door with his foot,

Freed was storming over immediately, flapping at the smoke with a dish towel and immediately turnoff the extractor fan on to suck up the smoke before it reached the detector. He had previously been working with a pink haired bastard, who was snickering at Laxus' failure. Asshole.

"What on earth did you do to it?" Freed demanded, more confused than angry.

"I followed her recipe," Laxus retorted indignantly. "Can't blame me."

"Everyone else has the same recipe and they've managed fine," Freed muttered under his breath. "Explain to me what happened."

Laxus bit down the instinct to tell Freed to choke on something, patronising ass that he was. He had made a deal with Freed the week prior that he would do what he could to make the most of the lessons, and he would enjoy knowing how to make a few meals, so admitting his mistakes was something that he would have to do. Even if it was to a smug, ego-centred teacher who Laxus could definitely take in a fight without breaking a sweat,

Maybe he should suggest some boxing lessons. Laxus had given up pro fighting the year before, but kept it up for fun. If Freed was acting like Laxus was stupid for not knowing the basics of cooking, Laxus would act like Freed was stupid when he didn't understand how to box.

Fantasising about punching Freed in the stomach - which was no doubt toned and sexy as hell - made talking through the process easier. Freed wore a slight frown, apparently not seeing anything wrong with what he had done. Laxus was about to boast that he was right, and that it was Freed's instructions that had gotten the burned pile of mush that filled the room with smoke, but Freed's expression turned to one of understanding when he looked at the oven,

"These work on Celsius, you set it as though you were using Fahrenheit," Freed explained. "You essentially nuked it."

Fuck. God-fucking-dammit!

He could have dealt with it if he was unable to do some cooking thing he'd never had to use before. But this? Misreading a piece of paper and setting the wrong temperature on the damn oven, how the hell had he managed to do that? It was humiliating! He was a grown ass adult, a retired sportsman who was forging a career to be respected. But an oven had made him look like an idiot who couldn't do anything for himself. Fucking brilliant.

With clenched fists, he rested against the workbench and leant on it with closed eyes. This was why he didn't do shit like this; he needed to keep in his lane and do what he was good at. Not cook, not have this weird hate-boner for his teacher. None of this.

"How soon after the class do you need to leave?" Freed asked, cutting through Laxus' spiralling thoughts. He frowned, but answered.

"Don't have any plans after."

"If we start again, we can have you finished ten minutes after class. That way it won't be an act of futility," Freed said, and rolled his damn sleeves up again. Thankfully he was moving around the counter, turning the oven down and fiddling with appliances fast enough to stop Laxus' eyes from lingering. "I can teach you how to spice things to your own tastes, as well. Normally that's next week, but I can advance you for your troubles."

"Advance me?" Laxus frowned. "Kinda need to be good at the basics first."

"You are, everything you said was correct. You made a small mistake that I should have noticed," Freed shrugged, walking to the counter he taught from and taking a box of ingredients to place on Laxus' desk. "I thought you'd learn better left to your own devices, and while I expect that was true, I shouldn't have left you alone. That was my mistake and as such, I'll amend it. We'll make a curry suited towards your tastes."

This was an olive branch, Laxus was sure of it. Freed had apparently noticed Laxus' shift of mood, and took the blame for Laxus' mistake. He was thankful of it, but it was still embarrassing.

Thankfully, a way of saving face had presented itself.

"I don't know if I can believe ya," He said with a small, somewhat forced smirk. "I mean, you don't have a record for keeping promises, do ya?"

"Don't I?"

"You told me you'd eat some of everything I made," Laxus shrugged, looking towards his pot of 'curry' that lay stagnant in the pot. It was grey, somehow. Food shouldn't be grey. "That was a lie."

Freed sighed, but didn't back down. He pulled a dessert spoon from one of the drawers, carefully scooped up some of the ruined mush and brought it towards his lips; damn they were pretty. He openly winced at the smell, swallowing preemptively as it got closer to his mouth. He glanced towards Laxus for a split second, who was watching him with crossed arms expectantly, and let out a resigned sigh. He opened his mouth, took in the spoon, then ate.

First he gagged, then he coughed, then he struggled to swallow. Even though Laxus had worked hard, and a small part of him thought Freed was exaggerating, he laughed at the reaction. Freed was fighting to keep the burned, disgusting food down. Once completely swallowed, he turned to Laxus with a wince.

"Delicious," He lied, trying to hide how thoroughly unhappy he was.

"If that's the case, there's plenty more," Laxus smirked, and Freed actually winced. That, of course, spurred Laxus on further. This was more fun than cooking. "Eat up, I don't mind."

Freed seemed to think for a moment, before standing up straight, rolling his back, and doing something Laxus never would have expected. He pulled out a plate and a ladle, scooped a portion large enough to fill two fully grown adults would struggle to finish no matter what the taste, and placed it on the countertop as if it was something to be proud of.

"A deal," Freed proposed. "I want to teach you one on one for the rest of the session. No distractions, no changing the subject, simply me telling you how to cook. Essentially, until you've cooked something successfully, I want your full attention."

Laxus nearly scoffed, Freed already had that. Instead, he said: "What's my 'delicious' curry got to do with that."

"If you make an attempt to distract me, to get out of lessons in some way, or continue with the mindset that this course is not suited to you, then for the rest of your time learning under me, you'll stay after class and clean everyone's dishes until I'm satisfied with the result."

Laxus winced a little. "And if I don't do any of that."

"I'll eat all of this," He motioned to the plate of ruined food. "And you may watch me do it."

Thinking for a moment, Laxus grinned. "Your funeral," He then glances at the food and winced. "Possibly literally."

Freed waved off the comment, stood beside Laxus with his new range of ingredients, and began explaining the basics of how to get a flavour you desired from your ingredients. On instinct Laxus wanted to taunt the man, suggesting the best way to get a flavour was with a take-out menu, but he managed to stop himself before the words slipped out. Mainly it was to avoid four weeks of dish washing, but also because he hasn't seen Freed like this. He was passionate when he spoke about cooking, and Laxus didn't want to ruin that.

And when Freed's arm slid against Laxus' as they moved, somehow at the same moment Freed looked at him with a genuine smile, Laxus felt shivers roll over him. This was… there were worse ways to spend a Thursday evening.

——

Week Three - Chicken Soup

"Y'know, if you're gonna make such a big deal about-" Laxus cut himself off. Holy shit.

He had been ready to blast into Freed about puntuality. Laxus had gotten to the class on time, only to see that Freed was not there. Eight minutes into the lesson, the door had opened, and Laxus was fully intending to lambast Freed about how much of a big deal it was when Laxus was late, and yet Freed was just as bad. He only stopped when he saw the state Freed was in. Because dammit, the man was drenched to the bone.

What the hell had happened to him? Sure it was raining, but Laxus knew he had a car, and surely the walk from the parking lot to the building hadn't been that bad. He looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a lake and lost.

"Everyone to your work stations please," Freed instructed, removing his coat as he walked to the front of the class. "I apologise for being late, but it shouldn't be too much of an imposition if we all focus."

Laxus was focusing. Focusing on the fact Freed's white shirt was clinging to his chest, showing off strong pecs and the taunting glimpse of a six-pack. It was a temp tight sight, and far too indecent for a classroom setting.

He shook his thoughts away. He needed to focus, because last week's lesson had proved a lot of things. One: Freed was willing to eat a whole plate full of disgusting food to prove a point, which wasn't relevant but Laxus still thought funny to think about him gagging and going green. Two: Freed was actually a damn good teacher, he just apparently hadn't know what Laxus needed from him until the latter half of the class. Three: Laxus actually could cook, if taught well. Because the second curry he'd made was indescribable, and it had tasted just as good when Laxus had cooked it two nights prior.

So, the lessons were actually working, and Laxus decided he was going to fully allow himself to be a student. Groping the teacher with his eyes wasn't going to help that, so Laxus remained quiet and let Freed explain the lesson.

To learn how to flavour things correct, they would all be making a series of different soups throughout the hour. Five basic recipes has been placed on their workspaces, and an entire array of spices, ingredients and flavourings had been scattered through the room. The point of the exercise was to follow the recipes, but also put other ingredients into their soups while doing it so that they can experiment with flavours. It was pretty smart, and Laxus felt like he had an advantage given Freed's impromptu lesson with spices the week before.

Once Freed stopped talking, they began cooking, and Laxus felt oddly confident in himself.

About ten minutes into the exercise, Freed made his way to Laxus' workstation. Wordlessly, he picked up a plastic ladle and scooped out a small amount of the soup Laxus had cooking. Laxus watched with only a small amount of anticipation as Freed brought the soup to his lips and swallowed it, and didn't focus on the flipping of his stomach as Freed smiled at him.

"It's very good," he praised, and Laxus did not preen at the words.

"Thanks," He muttered instead. "Any advice?"

Freed smiled a little at the request, placing the ladle in the small sink. "I'd use sea salt from now on, it'll bring out the flavour of the chicken more. But your instincts have served you well, it works very well together."

"Oh, thanks," Laxus mumbled awkwardly, and Freed didn't help by leaning over the table to look at Laxus' recipe, bring their faces far too close. Thank god the heat of the room has fixed the slight transparency of Freed's shirt, because knowing about the body below the clothes was tempting enough with him this close. If he could see the man's body, he might explode.

"You've put everything you've added onto this, haven't you?" Freed asked, tapping the recipe that had Laxus notes covering it. Laxus nodded weakly. "Then, if you can recreate it as it is now,I then it's time to experiment. Pick something at random to add and see what it tastes like. If it's bad, remake what you've already done."

"Anything huh?" Laxus quirked a brow. "You know you have to eat it, right? You wanna give me this much freedom after last week?"

"So long as you choose your ingredients thinking it will taste good, I'll uphold my agreement," Freed shrugged. "Though I must admit, I'd prefer not to spend the night with stomach cramps and a bucket beside my bed again, if avoidable."

Laxus barked out a laugh. "Kinda thought I'd killed ya when you didn't show up on time. What happened?"

"My car's broken down," Freed explained, looking over the herbs Laxus had added. "It took longer to get here than I expected."

"You walked in this?" Laxus glanced towards the heavy rainfall beating down on the windows.

"Indeed," Freed nodded. "Not my smartest decision."

Laxus winced a little at a roll of thunder exploded outside, apparently trying to make sure Freed knew just how stupid his decision had been. Freed didn't seem too bothered by it, though, and instead walked towards the old woman who worked behind Laxus, tasting her version of tomato soup and giving her advice on how to give it an extra kick.

The rest of the lesson continued on like that. Freed would work his way around the room, helping where he could. Laxus experimented on his soup, finding parmasean to be the missing ingredient.

Freed actually licked his damn lips after trying that. Did he know what he was doing to Laxus?

Once the lesson was over, the storm still lighting up the sky, Laxus walked to the door of the rec-centre. Freed was lingering there, wrapped up in a large red coat and clearly not looking forward to his walk home. Laxus understood that; the rain was so hard it probably would hurt to be under it.

"I'll drive ya home," Laxus said, his tone not leaving room to argue.

"What?" Freed asked. "No, that's not-"

"Didn't give you a choice, did I?" Laxus crossed his arms.

"You intend to kidnap me?" Freed joked.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded. "If you walk out in that, you're gonna get sick for no reason other than your own stubbornness. If that happens, the. Eat I can do for you is give you the recipe for this," he patted the container of chicken soup he held, "but I kinda think driving you might make more sense."

Freed considerd before speaking. "I insist on paying for gas, at least."

"Course you will, I ain't a cheap date."

The words came before Laxus could stop himself, and a flush of worry spread through him. Freed simply laughed, murmured a teasing "I expect not," and walked towards the door. He held it open for Laxus to walk through, and with a small grin, Laxus did so, with Freed by his side.

When the rain hit them, Laxus didn't care, and it certainly didn't diminish the silly smile that he hoped Freed couldn't see.

——

Week Four - Meringues

"What are you looking at, Laxus?"

Freed seemed amused as he spoke, and he walked towards Laxus' working area. Laxus had been trying to catch his teacher's eye for around a minute, with probably a stupid little grin on his face. He couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed about being caught out.

The drive home with Freed has been a long one - thirty minutes in the car; how long would it have been if he'd walked! - and they'd talked throughout. Laxus had learned that, until recently, Freed had been a professional chef for the TV show 'Sabertooth Chefs', a cooking competition watched by millions. He was off camera, making the meals that the celebrity judges claimed they had cooked to use as an example for their contestants. Apparently he quit because of a lack of passion.

That, and apparently Rufus Lore - the judge he cooked for - was obnoxious and could barely bake a loaf of bread if left on his own.

Laxus spoke about his own life. How he'd felt obligated to quit his pro-boxing career after a nasty head wound that resulted in his scar. How he was now a freelance writer who did sports analysis for some of the sports magazines and websites. Freed had seemed impressed, and claimed he'd watch out for his work.

They were closer now, and as such Laxus felt comfortable joking with him.

"I've got a question," he said when Freed was close. "You said you'd taste everything I cook, right? Well, for food, tasting something means you're experiencing it, right?"

"I suppose," Freed agreed, though seemed to know he was walking into a trap.

"Well, with meringues, you showed us that trick, right," Laxus smirked. "Where if you've made it correctly, you can turn the bowl over and the mixture won't fall out."

"Yes," Freed was wary now.

"Well, you also said for the best experience," he put emphasis on the word, "then you tip it up over your head. If you've done it right, it stays in the bowl. If you ain't, it covers ya."

"I did say that," Freed muttered.

"Well, if you're gonna experience everything I make, surely you should do it." He smirked; and pushed the bowel of mixture towards him.

Freed looked down, resignedly.

Then he perked up and reached into his pocket, pulling out a coin. He flipped it with flair and caught it, covering it before either of them could see the result.

"Heads or tails?" He requested, and Laxus chuckled.

"Heads."

Freed removed his hand, and Laxus let out a cry of triumph. He nudged the bowel towards Freed, grinning wide and ridiculous as Freed openly sighed. Laxus crossed his arms to hurry the man up, and it seemed to work.

With quick, resigned movements, Freed lifted the bowel. The thick white mixture jiggled slightly, and Freed turned it upside down above his head before he could stop himself.

And… it stayed in place.

For a moment, Freed seemed to be wincing in anticipation, before a look of triumph flooded onto his face. He turned the bowel back over and placed it on the counter.

"Kinda anticlimactic," Laxus said, picking up a spoon.

"But it means you did it correctly," Freed smiled. "You can take solace in that."

"Guess so," Laxus nodded. "Or I could do this."

With neither showmanship nor hesitation, Laxus used the spoon so scoop a dollop of the mixture up and flicked it towards Freed's face. For a moment, all Freed could do was blink, and Laxus burst into stifled laughter.

It had splattered over his lips, nose, and left cheek. Equal parts ridiculous and oddly attractive.

"Mister Dreyar," Freed spoke calmly, but he was trying to hide a smile. "I will be seeing you after class."

He turned away. Laxus snickered.

Although it was tempting to be a dick for the rest of the lesson, Laxus behaved himself. This was the only lesson that they did on desserts, and Laxus wanted to learn. That, and he felt Freed wasn't going to take his little prank lying down, so he probably shouldn't piss him off further.

When everyone else was gone, and Laxus was left alone with Freed, there was a moment of quiet. He motioned for Laxus to approach the desk. Laxus did so.

He was hit in the face by a spurt of ketchup.

It continued, splattering across his face. He gasped, and Freed apparently aimed for his mouth at the moment. It was a stupid moment, not helped by the noise the bottle was making, and eventually the spray died out.

Neither man spoke for a moment.

They both started laughing at the same time, and Freed handed Laxus a napkin to clean himself with.

"You're an asshole, you know that right?" Laxus said with mirth in his voice. "You still got the balls to want a ride from me again?"

"Is the offer still available?" Freed chuckled.

"Sure, just as long as you don't mind me getting some glue and those decorative feather things from a store on the way back," Laxus smirked. "There's a smug asshole who needs to be tarred and fathered."

"Perhaps I'll get the bus," Freed grinned, then frowned a little. Perhaps without thinking, he reached up and stroked Laxus' cheek to rid it of a remaking fleck of sauce.

They both halted, frozen for a moment, and Laxus' mind was set alight. In that moment he knew one thing for sure; he couldn't let Freed go.

——

Week Five - Solyanka

"That will be all for our time together," Freed said, standing at the front of the class. "I hope you all enjoyed your time together, and that you've all learned something. At the risk of promoting myself, I have other courses available that last longer and offer more flexibility with what you'll cook, if you want to further your culinary pursuits. If not, then it was a pleasure working with you all, and I wish you well in your endeavours."

It was weird seeing Freed using his teaching voice; the things he said weren't Freed-like. It was kind of funny.

Laxus hung back when the rest of the class funnelled out. Some of them spoke to Freed before leaving, orbits just left, but Laxus decided to hang back and wait. As he did, he pulled out a small plastic tub from a bag he'd brought with him, waiting for Freed to take note. Once everyone was gone, Freed saw him still standing at the end of his cooking surface.

"Laxus," He said, and he seemed pleased Laxus was still there. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, just wasn't ready to leave yet," Laxus passed it off as a joke, but the stopped himself. "I, Erm, well, there's this recipe my family's been making for years. Generations, actually. Just wanted to know what you think."

"You want me to critique a family recipe?" Freed frowned.

No. No he didn't. He wanted to share something with Freed that was important to Freed. It was ridiculous to think, but this old Russian dish was something he had loved for his life, and he wanted Freed to love it too. It seemed stupid now he was thinking about it, but they only really had food in common right now, and Laxus felt like it was his turn to add something to the conversation.

"It's called Solyanka," Laxus said instead of answering the question. "It's a soup. For sausages, olives, cabbage. A lot of things, really."

Laxus didn't say anything else, and picked out a pot from the cupboards to place on the stove. He emptied the contents of the container into the pot and stated to bear it up.

"It tastes better when it's not been reheated but-"

"It smells beautiful," Freed said, cutting through Laxus' backtracking. "And I'm sure it will taste just as good."

"Thanks," Laxus mumbled a little.

As they waited for the soup to heat, there was a comfortable quiet between them both. Freed seemed engrossed in the cooking - the growing scent, the occasional stirring - and it gave Laxus the chance to watch him. He had known Freed was hot from the moment he'd seen him, but he was also fucking beautiful. His hair was pulled out and flowing over his shoulders, and his expression was calm and relaxed.

Laxus was glad he had done this, suddenly. He would have regretted it. This couldn't be the end of his relationship with Freed; it just couldn't.

He went to speak, but Freed went first.

"I think it's time to take it off the heat," He said gently, as if wanting to avoid offending Laxus by telling him how to cook his meal. Laxus quickly removed the pot from the heat.

With now familiar movements, Laxus pulled out two bowls and poured them both a portion. Laxus sat on one of the stools, waiting a little nervously as he saw Freed spoon some of the soup up and take it into his mouth.

"Wow," Freed whispered. "It's incredible."

Pride bloomed inside Laxus, and he didn't tamper it down. This piece of Laxus had pleased Freed. It had made Freed smile such a brilliant smile that it was like a shot to the heart. He was speechless, and Freed spoke again.

"You're incredible, Laxus," he said with equal sincerity.

"What?" Laxus frowned slightly.

"You're incredible, Laxus," Freed repeated, smiling now. "You've made these five weeks remarkably fun for me, and I'm sad to see you go."

"I'm sad to be going," Laxus mumbled, unused to speaking honestly about these kinds of things. "These have been… the best part of my week."

"Mine too," Freed admitted, and the words sent lighting throughout him.

There had been a small part of Laxus that had thought it had been in his head. He felt like he and Freed had been steadily growing closer and closer, in a way that couldn't exactly be called platonic. It felt like this was the moment where a choice had to be made. Laxus could either hide from his feelings, as he had often done in his life, or he could take the dive. Just like he'd done when he had quit his job. Just like he'd done when he'd come to the class in the first place. Just like he should have been doing all his life.

Freed was going to speak, but the urge to act overtook Laxus and he moved before it could dwindle. He launched himself toward, took Freed by the back of the neck, and kissed him.

It wasn't perfect, but the imperfection made it better.

The feeling of the desk jutting into his hip might have been a bother, but it was nothing compared the the brilliance of soft lips moving against his own.

The lingering spice on Freed's tongue could have been a distraction, but it only added to the searing sensation flying through him.

The scent of Laxus' Solyanka might have drawn focus, but instead it nudged with Freed's cologne and created a beautiful feeling of mingled familiarity and uniqueness.

This was the type of kiss that was unforgettable.

Freed's hand was grazing the back of Laxus' neck, scratching at the usually untouched skin in a way Laxus was tempted to put at. He smiled a dopey smile, leaning further into the kiss.

When they pulled apart, breathless and smiling, they couldn't look away from each other.

"Don't know how this works with a chef," Laxus began in a whisper. "Don't wanna offend your sense of pride, but d'you maybe wanna get a bite to eat some place?"

For a stagnant second, that felt like an eternity to Laxus, Freed didn't say anything.

"I'd love that," Freed nodded a little, though his head still rested against Laxus'. "So long as you don't mind me critiquing everything?"

The joke was trumped by the honesty in his voice. Freed really wanted it!

"I can deal with that."

They shared a quiet, private smile. One that promised excitement, passion, and if Laxus allowed himself to be optimistic, perhaps a future as well.

#Fraxus #freed x laxus #freed justine #laxus dreyar #fairy tail #fanfic #writing #one shot #Word Count: 6k

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