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#my voice pitches up for the arrival of those i am fond of. it is genuine; moreso perhaps; but ive no fondness for the sound of it.
killerpancakeburger · 26 days
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I'm the powder, you’re the fuse
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SUMMARY: Soap finds out that his girlfriend is a skilled mercenary. And that he likes it... a lot.
PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader
TAGS: Established relationship, Badass!Reader, Smitten!Soap.
WARNINGS: Canon violence, mention of: blood, death, kidnapping/hostage taking, torture, weapons, suggestive content (Soap is Horny), military inaccuracies, swearing.
WORD COUNT: 1.9k
A/N: yes I am still writing the civilian fic with Ghost and Soap... but then I had this idea and thought I could finish it ""quickly"". Written on mobile so if there are mistakes feel free to tell me!!
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Soap let out a yawn big enough to dislocate his jaw, staring at his captain with mild resentment.
“This couldn’t hae waited til after breakfast, sir?”
“‘Fraid It could not, John. Actually in just a few minutes you'll be barking at me to know why we haven't gotten a move on already.”
Johnny looked back at his superior with perplexity, before glancing over at his teammates around the table, hoping for a scrap of information. Ghost remained imperturbable while Gaz shrugged.
“We received this video thirty minutes ago. Addressed to a certain Sergeant MacTavish.”
His captain turned on the projector and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall behind him. It was his teammates’ turn to glance at him questioningly, and to him to shrug with ignorance.
The Scottish soldier rubbed his face in an attempt to get rid of his lasting drowsiness as the video projected on the white screen facing them was starting.
A group of armed men in balaclavas were occupying a room. The one in the front spouted the classic ransom demand in exchange for a hostage. Nothing worth being summoned at the crack of dawn for.
Then the spokesman moved aside, revealing their detainee, bound to a chair and gagged, shooting daggers at her captors, and Soap almost knocked over the table with how brutally he stood up. Carried away by white-hot fury, he slammed his hands on the table.
“Fuckin’ - what the fuck is this!? When did this happen? Where are those fucking bastards? I -”
Rage had roughened his usually smooth voice, granting it a gravelly pitch, turning his shout into a growl.
“Control yourself, Sergeant”, interrupted Price, “It's not over yet.”
On the screen, the same man as before grabbed your hair, ignoring your murderous glare, forcing you to look at the camera, and coaxed you with disdain before taking off your gag:
“Come on doll, gonna have to beg real pretty for your man to get him to rescue you.”
The second your mouth was freed, you snarled at him, baring your teeth like you were about to bite.
“I'm gonna rip your throat out with my bare hands, you f-”
“Fuck, someone muzzle that rabid bitch”, swore your agressor, your belligerence clearly having thrown a wrench in his plans.
Soap could not help the flare of pride soaring in his chest at the view of your defiance and your grit.
After receiving their orders, the team left the room to prepare themselves for the assault. 
“A friend of yours?” asked Gaz, while Ghost questioned “Ya know her?”
“That's mah girl”, admitted the Scotsman, a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away. The cat was out of the bag. For your own sake, you had been a well-kept secret, but it was blatant that it didn’t protect you.
“Been together for a year. Never meant to drag her into this, though.”
“She sounds like a bloody riot, mate.” teased Garrick.
“She doesn't seem fazed to be taken hostage. Mainly pissed.” pointed out Ghost, wary.
“She's fearless.” admitted Soap with an enamored little smile. “Doesn't mean we don’t have to get her out of this though.”
His expression shifted from fondness to cold determination.
“‘F course.”
“We've got your back.”
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“Gaz? You copy?” called Ghost over coms.
The afornamed was tasked with overwatch. His response arrived, marked by hesitation.
“...  I don't think she needs our help, guys.”
“The fuck s’that supposed to mean?” grumbled the Lieutenant.
“It'd be better if you'd see for yourselves. Third window on the right, second floor.”
Ghost took out a pair of binoculars and pointed them at the given position.
“Fooking hell…”
The expletive was mumbled with a mix of surprise and… awe?
“What? What! Lemme see L.T.!” pleaded Soap.
Ghost quickly passed him the tool, eager to make him shut up. The sergeant hastened to shove them against his face. His gaze took in the sight in front of him and he let out an appreciative whistle.
“Steamin’ jesus…”
He drank in the view that was your bloody display of fierce skill and deadly efficiency. You staggered between the enemies with fluidity, making them seem like clumsy amateurs. Slicing a throat there, shooting a head here, he watched with fascination as you used a dead attacker as a human shield.
“I think I'm hard.”
“TMI,  Soap.” 
Gaz coupled his comment with a gagging noise.
“Can ye blame me! Mah lass is oot there bein’ a bonafide badass ‘n’ that's the hottest shit a've ever seen.”
“M not blaming you for being a horny bastard, I'm blaming you for not keeping it to yourself.”
“If you two are done bickering, we could go pick her up.” groaned Ghost.
Letting Garrick past, he grabbed Soap by the shoulder as he was walking by him.
“You knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That you were going out with a killer.”
“Nae, but it turned out to be a good thing, didn’t it? Cannae imagine how badly this would have ended with a civilian. The wounds, the trauma…”
Ghost let out one of his grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.”
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Positioning themselves near that final entrance, Soap nodded in response to Ghost's hand signal, waiting for him to break the door down. They were still on their gard in case some of the assailants survived.
In the ensuing silence, your voice reached his ears through the wall he was propped against.
“Come on doll”, you taunted, imitating your captor's scornful tone from earlier, sickly sweet then venomous. “Tell me who you work for and I won't gouge out your remaining eye.”
Johnny gulped. Eavesdropping on this definitely did not help with the… situation in his pants.
The racket produced by Ghost dealing with the door had the merit to make him focus once again. 
His body moving automatically, his training taking over, Soap charged into the room, pointing his rifle at the only person left standing there. Like a reflection of himself, you were aiming your own firearm at him. Your eyebrows were frowned in concentration, your eyes glinting with cold determination. Then recognition dawned on your face, and you heaved a sigh of relief, lowering your weapon.
“It's you! You scared the shit out of me.”
Relief flooded through him at the sight of you, bruised, battered, and blood-spattered, but alive. He tossed his gun aside as you put down yours, ready to embrace you, but Ghost's voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Back off, Soap.”
An order. Johnny stared at him in shock.
“What the hell, L.T.?”, he hissed in his direction.
You docilely raised your hands in the air as the masked man lined up the end of his gun's barrel with your head.
“Worst rescue party ever”, you mumbled to yourself.
“Sorry, Johnny”, grumbled Skullface, not sounding sorry in the slightest, never taking his eyes off you. “But do your usual conquests take down a dozen armed men on their own?”
Illustrating his words, he gestured with his rifle to the ground littered with corpses. The man you had started to interrogate - the only one left alive - whined in pain.
“So what's your deal? Ya a mole? Shagging Johnny for intel?”
“Ghost!” Soap gasped, offended for himself as much as for you. “M not some clueless newbie!”
You made a face at the question. You understood where he was coming from, hell you’d do the same if the roles were reversed, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed sharing details of your sordid past, especially with a stranger. The less people knew about it, the better.
“I used to be a mercenary for a family who did organized crime. Been clean for years though.”
“Oh yeah? They let you leave just like that?”
“The boss’ daughter had a soft spot for me.”
The lieutenant stared at you for a few more seconds, as if judging the veracity of your statements through sight alone, before lowering his weapon.
A resounding “Bonnie!” rang out. Next thing you knew, your boyfriend's muscular arms closed around you, causing you to yelp, pain running through you at the overeager contact. Soap cursed and apologized profusely.
“Bloody hell, a'm sorry, didnae mean tae hurt ye. Are ye alright? Show me where it hurts. If those bastards leid a hand on ye, I swear-”
There was something both flattering and arousing with how the more Soap lost his cool, the more pronounced his accent became, and the rougher his voice sounded. You placed a finger across his mouth to put an end to his verbal onslaught, an endeared smile on your own.
“At ease, soldier. I'm OK, just some bruised ribs and a busted eyebrow.” you summarized while pointing to the trickle of dried blood on the side of your face.
He leaned his forehead against yours, a gesture that felt terribly intimate, an adoring grin adorning his lips.
“Cannae believe ye wiped out those sorry fuckers all on yer own. Fuck, that's hot.” he confessed in a subdued tone.
You threw your head back in laughter, only to wince when your sore ribs manifested themselves.
“Never heard that one before. Could get used to it, though.”
You laced your fingers behind his neck, nonchalantly leaning against him, not fighting back an impish smile. Soap's hands grabbed your hips in response. Your roguish expression must have gotten the better of his restraint, because one breath later, he was hungrily pressing his mouth against yours. You replied in kind, swiftly deciding you did not care for his colleagues’ presence, and he moaned in appreciation.
After a minute or two, you broke the kiss against your will, remembering an issue that needed to be solved. You smiled, amused by the vision that was Soap chasing your lips blindly, then pouting when you refused him.
“So you guys are gonna take care of the bodies, right…? I can deal with one or two, but this is a bit much.”
The last soldier, the one you didn’t hear from yet, a pretty man with dark skin that Soap would later introduce as Gaz, assured you that they would handle it.
Transferring your attention back to Johnny, you noticed a trace of guilt in those ocean eyes of his, as he was staring at you.
“Something wrong?”
“Ye not mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?” you frowned.
“It's mah fault if those bastards took ye.”
“Oh, Johnny…” you sighed wistfully, cupping his face. “I knew what the risks were when I chose to date a soldier. Plus, there will always be a chance that my past catches up to me. I was pretty fucking mad when I got a hood shoved on my head and my arms twisted behind my back before getting hauled away in the middle of the fucking night, but not at you.”
Once they gathered all the intel they needed and dragged away the only survivor, the team and you left the building. Your testimony was required for the mission report, so you accompanied them without protest, longing for the care that would be provided by their medical facility.
As you were walking to their vehicule, hand in hand with Soap, you noted how he couldn’t take his eyes off you.
His cerulean eyes kept greedily roaming all over you, like you were a vision so dream-like it was making him doubt your reality, like you would vanish the second he stopped contemplating you.
“Yer one badass lass, y'know that? ‘M so proud o’ ye. Proud tae be yers.”
A/N: Ghost's "grunts that Johnny knew meant “I disagree but it's not worth debating you about it.” " is based on my grandma 💀
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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years
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Hi babe! How you doing?
Since winter this year is terrible, snowy and cold I was wondering if you could do those sweet drabbles for our wolves and reader they have huge crush on who spends winter at Kaer Morhen and sneaks into their room and bed searching for warmth in the middle of the night?
A/N: Hi babe! I hope you like this :)
***
Lambert
You moved through one of the many corridors within Kaer Morhen, clutching the blanket that acted as a cloak around your shoulders. 
The corridor was dark with the exception of torches that were lit every few dozen feet along the stone wall. They were strategically placed outside of every room. 
Though most of the rooms on the floor were empty, you were still careful to be as quiet as possible. You knew how sensitive a witcher’s hearing was and you didn’t want to be the reason one of them was woken up. 
You came to a stop outside of the last room on the left. The door was shut, though you expected it to be. The young wolf inside was probably sleeping. Anyone in their right mind would be sleeping at three in the morning. 
You knocked twice on the door, frowning at how loud the sound was. It seemed to echo down the corridor, bouncing off of the stone walls. 
I hope Eskel doesn’t hear that.
There was no response from the witcher inside of the room, so you tried again, this time adding his name to the knock. 
“Lambert? Lambert, are you awake?”
A rustling noise could faintly be heard from beyond the thick wooden door. It was pulled open with a loud creak. 
Lambert stood there in nothing but a pair of trousers that hung low- perhaps too low -on his hips. Your eyes flickered over his chest, over the scars and hair that sparsely covered his muscular torso. 
“The hell are you doing up so late, bug?” He asked, voice groggy with sleep as he rubbed the side of his face. He didn’t notice you staring as he was still trying to force his eyes to open up. 
“I-I just- I’m sorry to-to um-,” You suddenly regretted deciding to leave your bed. Embarrassment settled into the pit of your stomach. “It’s just…. The-The fire in my room, it went out some time ago. There was a gust of wind and I don’t really know what happened. I tried to layer up with what I had but it didn’t work. It’s too cold.”
You rubbed your hands together. Whether it was from the cold or from nervousness, you weren’t sure. 
Lambert looked down at you, brows furrowed together.
“So your room’s too cold to sleep in tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m so sorry to bother you. I-I didn’t want to wake you up. If you could just maybe help me start the fire-,”
“I don’t want to walk all the way down there right now.” He cut you off. His answer made your stomach drop, but then he continued. “Come in here. You can stay with me for the night.”
“Oh, Lambert. I-I couldn’t do that.”
“Yeah you can.” He stepped aside and gestured for you to enter his room.
Even from out in the hall you could feel the heat coming from his room. How could you say no?
You stepped into his room, eyes flickering around, curiously taking in what you could see. 
With the light coming from the fireplace, you could only make out a few notable features of his room. The first was an easel set up in the far corner. The next was a stack of books next to the foot of his bed. 
Lambert didn’t give you enough time to examine his room any further. 
“You can get into the, uh, the bed.” He said, still lingering by the door. It was shut but he stayed near it for whatever reason. “If it would make you more comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Lambert, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”
“I don’t mind.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Floor in front of the fire is nice. And I don’t…. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pull anything on ya if we share a bed.”
Your eyes immediately left his and instead found a space on the floor between the both of you. 
“I-I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t think that.” You murmured quietly, offering a small smile to him. “You’re a kind man, Lambert.”
“I’ve been called many things, bug, but kind ain’t one of them.” He rubbed the back of his head. “You can get comfortable first. I’ll get in after you.”
You nodded your head, pulling the throw blanket off of your shoulders and laying it across the foot of the bed. 
Lambert pretended not to watch you as climbed into the bed and got comfortable on one side. He said nothing when the side you chose to get comfortable on was the side he preferred. 
“Okay.” You spoke quietly from underneath the thick pile of blankets. “Do you always sleep with this many blankets?”
“Yeah.” He got into bed next to you. “I’m always cold, especially here during the winter. It gets cold as fuck.”
You nodded, shifting around a little on the bed. You rubbed your feet together, trying to get the warmth to spread to your toes. 
“Are you okay over there?”
“Just…. Just trying to get warm. It’ll take me a minute but I’m okay.”
“Here.”
You weren’t too sure what he was doing as your back was to him, but suddenly you could feel him against you. His body gave off an incredible amount of body heat that had you pressing back into him without even realizing it. 
“This okay, bug?” He asked, his warmth breath tickling your ear. 
“Yeah.” You giggled softly. “Thank you, Lambert.”
“Wouldn’t want you to freeze to death. Then I’d lose my kind guy badge you just gave me.”
Eskel
You knocked on the door to Eskel’s room, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You rubbed your hands together in an attempt to create some sort of heat but it was really no use. You were chilled straight to the bone. 
Your room was freezing cold and no matter how many blankets or how many layers you put on, you couldn’t seem to get warm. 
The door to Eskel’s room opened quietly. He appeared, hair messily tied back with a few strands falling around his face. The tunic he wore was unlaced and revealed a good portion of his chest where the top created a V. 
“Y/N, it’s early.” He looked over his shoulder to the window to confirm his own words. It was still pitch black outside. “Is something wrong?”
“I can’t sleep.” You frowned. “It’s freezing cold in my room. Do you think it would be okay if I stayed with you for the night?”
He looked at you for a few moments, lips parting but no words coming out. 
Your heart began to beat faster with anxiousness. You didn’t want to overstep and you didn’t want to scare him away. The two of you had been flirting lightly here and there over the winter and you didn’t want to ruin that. 
“If you’d rather not, Eskel, it’s no big deal. I can go bother Ciri-,”
“No, that-that isn’t necessary.” He cut you off. “Please, come in.” 
You held his gaze as you passed him, a smile on your lips. 
Your eyes flickered around the room, landing on his bed. It was neatly made as if he had never even tried to go to sleep. At the foot of the bed was a book. It was open with the pages down on the bed. 
“It doesn’t look like you were sleeping.”
“I-I wasn’t.” He admitted sheepishly. Eskel closed the door and moved into the room. “I was reading.”
“Would you read to me?” You asked him, picking up the throw that was laying across the foot of the bed. 
“If you’d like. You can get under the blankets if you want, Y/N.”
“This will do just fine right now. Your room is rather warm. It’s quite pleasant.”
He sat down on one side of the bed, leaning back against the headboard. You sat next to him, leaning against him. He was hesitant to put his arm around you, but as he did you seemed to melt right into his side. 
“Are you comfortable?” He asked quietly, looking down at you.
“Very. Thank you, Eskel.” You smiled. 
Geralt
You pulled the brush through your hair, letting out a heavy breath. 
“You look like something is on your mind.”
Your eyes flickered over to Jaskier. He was stretched out across your head reading a book while you did your hair for the night. 
“What do you mean?”
“You’re staring at yourself in that mirror.” Jaskier sat up, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. “You usually aren’t that narcissistic, so something must be up. What is it, darling?”
“Nothing.” You shook your head, putting the hairbrush down so you could braid your hair. 
“Is it Geralt?”
“Jaskier.”
“I only suggest it was him because earlier this evening when we had dinner, you practically refused to look at him. I thought the both of you were…. rather fond of one another.”
“I thought so too. But I suppose since I am no longer the only one here he can bed, I serve no purpose to him anymore.”
“Y/N, you know you mean more to Geralt than a simple fuck.”
“He sure hasn’t made it seem that way since Yennefer arrive. Though I don’t blame him. She’s is a beauty.”
“She is, but all evil things are beautiful.”
“She’s not evil, Jaskier.” You rolled your eyes at him. 
“You didn’t see her and the Djinn.”
You finished your hair and stood up from the vanity, moving towards the bed. 
“He hasn’t paid me a second glance since she’s come. I only feel stupid for thinking that he no longer felt anything for her.”
“You know that isn’t how their…. predicament works, Y/N. You know he has no control over his feelings for her.”
You stayed quiet. Jaskier watched you for a few moments, wishing there was something he could do to help you feel better.
“I’d like to go to bed now, Jakier.” You told him.
“Okay, darling. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Jaskier.”
***
A few hours later, you were still awake. Not only were you unable to sleep, but there was a draft in your room that made you cold. 
After laying there for a while tossing and turning, you decided to read. You turned the page just as someone knocked on the door to your room. 
“Who is it?”
“Me.” Geralt’s deep voice came from the other side of the door 
“I’m in no mood for talking, Geralt. I’m trying to sleep.”
“I can hear your teeth chattering.”
“The only way you can hear my teeth is if you’ve been lingering outside my door.” You sat up, eyes focusing on the door.
You heard the witcher let out a heavy sigh. 
“Can I please come in, Y/N?”
“You may open the door.” You adjusted the shoulder of your chemise and pulled the blankets up to cover your chest. 
Geralt opened the door and stepped inside. Golden eyes flickered around the room, searching for something. 
“Did you leave a window open?”
“No. My room sometimes gets cold during the winter months. That’s why I tend to stay with Jaskier.”
Geralt nodded. His eyes fell on you. 
You shifted around a little on the bed. 
“Well? Did you have something you wanted to say or did you just come in here to look at me while I’m in my nightclothes?” You raised your brows at him. 
Geralt cleared his throat, eyes darting down to the floor for a moment before lifting to meet yours. 
“I-I don’t…. I’ve noticed that for the last couple of days you and I….” He trailed off, unsure of what to say or how to word what was going through his head. “You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”
“Like the plague, yes.” You stated matter-of-factly. You looked down to the blanket and smoothed out the material. “I don’t wish to step on anyone’s toes. This keep may be big, but it isn’t big enough to last the entire winter feuding with the few who are here.”
Geralt furrowed his brows at you. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.
“Now if you’ll please excuse me, Geralt. I’d like to try to sleep tonight.”
Geralt locked his jaw, frustrated. 
“You’ll freeze if you stay here for the night.”
“Then so be it.” You stubbornly laid down in bed and brought the blankets up over your shoulder.
“Can I….” He grunted. “Can I stay with you for the night? At least to keep you warm?”
You swore your heart skipped a beat. You wanted to tell him no and to even start raising your voice at him. But you were far too cold and too tired to fight. 
“I suppose.”
Geralt moved across the room and kicked his boots off. He pulled the blankets back and climbed underneath them. 
“Won’t Yennefer be upset that you’re underneath the same blankets as me?” You looked over your shoulder at him. 
“She doesn’t care what I do. I am my own person. I’m an adult. I don’t have to ask for her permission to do anything.”
“But…. aren’t you two….?” You didn’t finish your sentence. 
One of Geralt’s arms slipped around your torso. He pulled you back into him. 
You could almost immediately feel his body heat coming through both of your clothes. 
“No, we aren’t.” His answer was soft. His breath was warm against your neck. “Is that what’s gotten you so upset with me?”
You said nothing, allowing yourself to sink back against him. 
His hand that rested on your stomach began to trace circles there. 
“Please understand that it’s a spell. Whatever I do feel towards her, it was forged in a last wish I made years ago.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to remember that when we are all in the same room and you forget that I exist.” You murmured.
A breath left his lips. 
“I am sorry, dove.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “I’m looking into ways to get rid of the spell. I don’t want it getting in the way of any real…. Any real feelings I may have for anyone else.”
His words made something in your chest flutter. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. 
“Good night, dove.”
“Good night, Geralt.”
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If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(
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krabstick32 · 3 years
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Girl Code
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Pairing: Giyuu x Reader
Synopsis: Having crushes are hard. Especially when your best friend and the person you like seem to be hitting it off. 
Tags/warnings: very very very light angst, mostly fluff uwu
a/n: first of all, happy new year! school got reaaaal busy, so whew! it’s been a while! not gonna lie, I really missed writing stuff! I got a few days worth of break, so hopefully I get to finish a few backlogged reqs. (I think I only have two left, but to those two, I sincerely apologize for the wait! I’m planning to write them as headcanons to get them out faster, so I hope you don’t mind!)
to @aliaisreal​, thank you so much for requesting and being so patient with me 🥺 i apologize in advance if it’s not very good :(( it’s not my best work, but I hope you still enjoy it and that it’s somehow worth the wait^^
Link to the ask: Request by @aliaisreal​
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As the Insect Pillar, and the successor of the Butterfly Estate, Shinobu Kocho was one busy woman. She has a lot of responsibilities on her plate such as slaying demons, concocting medicine, and the like, so it was safe to say that she had no time to babysit anyone but—
“Shinobu!” The door bursts open and one of her… self-appointed responsibilities come prancing right through the threshold. “How about we go out to the village and have some lunch, hmm? My treat!”
Even if her skin felt like it almost flew off in shock, her smile stayed the same as she arranged the papers she intentionally threw around her desk when you came barging through the door. It wasn’t like you immediately coming in shocked her or anything. No, not at all. “Hello to you too, (F/N). Not that I particularly mind, but why so sudden?”
At that, your cheeks turn an adorable shade of red. In your excitement to invite her out to eat, you forgot to greet her first. “Ah, hello. But, back to the topic of lunch!”
Shinobu didn’t really change the topic, but she waved a hand as an indication for you to continue.
“Well, you seem stressed lately. I was hoping to treat you out y’know? And then you could rant and tell me all about it—only if you want to of course, no pressure at all!”
She sighed. For the past few days, Shinobu was starting to get a little frustrated with the current medicine she was trying to make work. On top of that, she needed to handle so many other things, and do missions, check in on patients, cook—well, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but it was starting to get on her nerves. 
It was no surprise that you were starting to notice because even if you seemed a little too enthusiastic at times, you were still her best friend and a pillar at that—you wouldn’t be here without being exceptionally skilled and observant. Overenthusiasm aside, she—and everybody else included—knew you meant well. 
“I don’t know,” She hums, excited to see how you’ll react. “Are you done with your portion of the work? You looked a little distracted earlier, what with Tomioka-san—“
With the mention of the water pillar’s name, your sweet closed eyed smile turned sour as you immediately placed your hands on her mouth to stop her from continuing that sentence. “Y-Yeah! Yeah, I’m done! You know I don’t slack off. All the patients are fine and I've stitched up the few whose wounds opened.”
She was just teasing. Shinobu was well aware of your skill and work ethic, and while Shinobu was gifted in medicine, particularly pharmaceuticals, you had an uncanny knack for cutting people apart, and stitching them back up again. You were as skilled with a scalpel as you were with a sword.
“I’m just teasing (F/N)-chan.” The Insect Pillar replied, and couldn’t help but want to push more of your buttons as your face seemed to relax at the thought that she wouldn’t mention a particular someone. “But are you sure you’d rather invite me? I’m sure you’d rather ask Tomio—“
If your face was pink before, you were absolutely glowing right now as you put back your hand on top of her mouth. “Shinobu! You know I...you know I don’t like him like that! Besides, I am positive he likes someone else.”
She shrugs your hands off—which were slightly clammy, ew— as she shows you a devilish smile that has you sweating more. “Lie all you’d like, but I don’t think that’s something someone who ‘doesn’t like him like that’ would say, don’t you think?”
Ah, teasing was fun, but teasing you and tomioka were one of the few pleasures in life she made sure to enjoy.
“...Stop teasing me or I will eat without you.”
“Okay, okay, let’s go to that ramen shop in the village.”
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Everyone didn’t give the great Inosuke-sama enough credit!
He was raised by boars, grew up in the wild, and treated the mountains like his home. Insouke may have lacked skill in what society normally taught, like proper etiquette, and reading, but the wild was a great teacher on its own, and taught him things he wouldn’t have learned in the company of other humans.
Spending his entire life out in the wild, Inosuke was able to learn how to heighten his senses, particularly his sense of touch, and how to observe. He may have been clueless in the socially acceptable ways to voice out what he sees, what he feels, but Inosuke is perceptive, and that’s what people normally wouldn’t associate with someone who was as stubborn as a rock, and as brash as a beast.
Inosuke—and Kentaro, Nezuko, and Monitsu for that matter—usually spent their time at the butterfly estate. The three of them—mostly Tontaro, really—helped the girls. Cooking, laundry, cleaning, lifting heavy things, were simple chores that they did, and afterwards, Inosuke would often find himself looking for you and Shinobu.
He always felt this...fuwa-fuwa feeling around the two of you, and he thought both of you were like that Gengoro, his sister, and reluctantly Chuitsu.
There was a day where Shinobu was out on a mission, leaving you partially in charge of the butterfly estate, and spending some time with Inosuke. Personally, you found Inosuke to be interesting due to his origins, and overall, he was fun to be around with. Surprisingly, both of you really complimented each other despite being both huge balls of energy and enthusiasm.
That day, you and him were having a little spar by one of the yards around the estate. To an outsider, it was absolutely funny seeing him, who had a more built body compared to your lithe frame, getting thrown off and beaten to a pulp with a wooden stick. If Shuitzu were here to see the spar, he would be laughing his ass off in that pissy, slightly disgusting high-pitched tone at the many times Inosuke was thrown down. Manchiro would probably observe though, and would probably encourage him that he could beat you one day while helping him with his wounds.
Contrary to popular belief though, Inosuke was well aware he couldn’t beat you, at least not yet. Regardless of the way you looked, he could feel it in his skin that you were a formidable opponent who could easily break his bones if you wanted. Seeing your strength for himself was an opportunity he saw where he could get stronger, even if it did frustrate him a little. Or a lot.
“The great Inosuke demands a rematch! A rematch!”he demands, fussing against the ground as you lower your sword and stand up straight from your last breathing form.
“Ahaha, okay, okay! But I’m feeling a little tired…” you pause and place a hand on your chin with a thoughtful look. In a few seconds, you snap your fingers and turn back to him with a bright smile. “Ah! How about we take a break first? Then you could go back to handing me my butt?”
Inosuke knew you weren’t tired and that technically, you were the one handing him his ass. You weren’t heaving a lung out like he was, or sweating bullets. You were the picture of calm and collected, pristine like untouched snow, without a hair out of place.
Inosuke huffs and pushes himself off the ground. “Fine! Insouke-sama permits it!”
“Wonderful! Wait here.” You chirp and pad back into the butterfly estate, leaving Inosuke to unceremoniously plop back down to the ground.
A few minutes pass, and he feels his skin tingle—someone was here, but they didn’t seem to have any malicious intent. It would have felt different if there was.
He looks up from his spot on the ground and spots the hanhan baori guy, his face looking the same as it did the past few times Inosuke saw it. The odd guy was just passing through the gate when Inosuke pushed himself off the floor, wooden sword pointed between Pochioka’s eyes.
“Hanhan Bao—!”
Before Inosuke would have finished his proclamation to fight, you were back standing at the engawa with a tray of sliced fruit, and bamboo cups filled with cool water. “Inosuke? What’s wro—Giyuu! What brings you here?”
Huh. That was odd.
“(F/N)-san.” Inosuke goes uncharacteristically quiet as his eyes darted between the two of you.
It was completely unmistakable. Hanhan Baori’s mouth moved when you arrived. Inosuke honestly thought Dohioka was a magic statue before this day.
You turn to Inosuke and place the tray in a safe spot. “Here, eat first. I’ll just ask what Giyuu needs, and we can spar right after, ‘kay?”
“‘Kay.”
At his response, you give him a warm smile and pat his head (there was that darned fuwa-fuwa feeling again!). He watches as you and Tapioka move a few meters away, settling underneath the shade of a tree to talk, a bit too far away for him to hear.
He doesn’t think he needs to though, because your body language said it all.
Your face was a little flushed, your smile looked even sweeter. Hanhan baori’s mouth was curling upwards in a smile, and his eyes looked fond. A suspicious combination for someone who he previously thought was a statue up until now. But he digresses. He’s never seen you look so...like this. You smiling wasn’t much of a surprise, but with Pachinko around...it was different, and Tochioka seemed more open to boot. There wasn’t much of a doubt in his mind. There was something between you two. He just couldn’t put a name on it—but there was something. Maybe he should ask Monjiro about it.
He munches on the fruit thoughtfully, watching you smile softly—softer than he’s ever seen—as you seem to answer a question Torioka asked you.
Yep, definitely something up between you and Tomioka.
Maybe he should extend his help. After all, the great Inosuke-sama was the kind ruler of the mountains. Pushing you two along would be a piece of cake.
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Shinobu catches you pouting by the window in your joint office. It was adorable, considering how your cheeks were puffed, and your eyebrows were furrowed, but with your personality? Sulking wasn’t like you. “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”
Surprised, you jump and turn to find the Insect Pillar with her ever present smile painted on her face. It seems softer though, kinder. “Huh? No, nothing’s wrong!” You disagree, pushing yourself off the chair and tidying up the papers scattered on your desk.
She watches you with a small knowing smile on her face. “What, didn’t see Tomioka-san today?”
You paused for a moment, imperceptible to any outsider, but to Shinobu, who has spent so much time around you, that momentary lapse in movement was enough of an indicator. “...No.”
Hit the nail right on the head!
“You are a terrible liar (F/N)-chan. I thought the two of you were getting along? Should I go put poison in his tea?”
At her suggestion, you turn back as your skin pales. It was largely concerning how easily Shinobu could do that. “What? No! He did nothing, I swear it!”
“Awfully defensive,” The Insect Pillar snickers, before taking a seat on her chair and turning to you. With you pouting at her, Shinobu is reminded of how fun it was to tease you.
“Shinobu-chan.”
“Teasing.” She raises her hands in a move to placate you. Well, annoying you was fun and all, but she was concerned for you, more so than wanting to piss you off. “Anyway—jokes aside, you know i’m always here for you, right?”
You knew that. She was always willing to listen to your problems, but you couldn’t exactly tell her that you’re trying to distance yourself from Giyuu because he liked her.
Truth be told, you were getting along with Giyuu, so much so that you’ve started to like him as more than a friend. But, you cared for Shinobu and you wanted her to be happy. She and Giyuu made more sense than you and him.
“...Yes.”
“And that I love you like a sister, right?”
Despite all the teasing, you knew Shinobu really cared for you. She may like to push your buttons, but oddly enough, it reminded you of one of your siblings, so you didn’t mind. Just like your relative, you knew they did it because they wanted to distract you from your problems. An odd way of doing it, but they really would have gotten along.
“Yeah.”
“And that I can easily kill a man and hide his body?”
“Shinobu-chan!”
She laughs, the sound very similar to bells, and you can’t help the bitter thought that maybe Giyuu liked someone with a mellow voice like hers. “Kidding! Kidding! Well, kind of on that last one.”
You pout, and she brushes off her statement with a near irresistible bribe. “Alright, how about we go get some food? My treat.”
Awfully tempting. But there was still one more concern in your head.
“No poison?”
“Have more faith in my, (F/N)-chan!” Giggling, Shinobu slides the door open, and beckons you over. “Now, let’s go—I’m sure you’re hungry!”
“You didn’t answer my question!” You say, trailing after her in mild worry, feelings momentarily forgotten as the thought of food replaces it.
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It was any other early evening in the butterfly estate when the Water Pillar barged in through the doors, blood dripping from an open wound on his chest, with the oddest expression on his face.
Maybe what should have alarmed the butterfly girls were the deep scratch marks on his chest. Instead, it was the near half-crazed look on his face. Tomioka-san’s face never moved from it’s impassively cold stare, why was now any different?
“Where is she?” He rasps.
Aoi, who was standing at the entrance with Kiyo upon his arrival, was brought out of her shock. “Tomioka-sama, lie down. Kiyo will lead you to a room and I’ll get Shinobu-sama immediately to take care of your wounds.”
“No, where is she? Where’s (F/N)—”
From the end of the hall, you came down to see what all the huff was about. You were taking inventory of the supplies since it was a little slow today, but the ruckus urged you to go out and take a look.
“Giyuu? What’s going on he—ohmygods, Giyuu, are you alright?” Seeing Giyuu pale—well, paler than normal—and bleeding all over the floor was not what you expected though.
“(F/N)...” Seeing her alive and breathing eased Giyuu’s worries, so much so that he sags in relief. He would have dropped down the floor if it weren’t for your quick reflexes.
Lightly, he feels you press a hand to his head, wiping the sweat forming on his brow. 
“Giyuu? Stay with me, we’re going to fix you right up, ‘kay?” There was no doubt in his head that you could. He’s been in much worse really. The blood loss just wasn’t doing him any favors.
Regardless, he shakes his head and just savors you being here, warm and alive.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I thought you were dead.”
“Dead? Who, me? No, silly! I just sprained my ankle, so walking’s a little hard, but i’ll be fine!”
“I thought I was going to lose you...” He was starting to babble. The blood loss was starting to affect him more than he’d thought.
“Lose me? Don’t worry, I’m not going away any time soon.”
“Good…” Giyuu breathes out a sigh of relief. He liked the thought of you living for a long, long time. “I like you a lot.”
With that admission, his head slumps over your shoulder, and his body gets heavier, prompting you to nearly drop him with the weight of his sudden confession and his mass.
Aoi and Kiyo watches, shocked beyond words as your face continuously gets redder and redder. Whether it was from the exertion, or his words, well, everyone knew exactly what was causing you to look like a freshly plucked apple.
“H-Hah?! Wait, Giyuu? Giyuu!”
And that is the sight that greets Shinobu. She was back from a report to Oyakata-sama, so seeing you all red and flustered with a fully grown man who was bleeding all over her floor and who was about to fall over and kill you—with his weight, or with his words, Shinobu could easily guess which—was an especially unusual sight, but unfortunately, not really unexpected. And mildly infuriating.
“Tomioka-san, you total dunce! Get treated first! Ugh, (F/N)-chan, don’t let him fall, he’s losing blood!”
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“Ow—“ Giyuu grunts, the bandage being wrapped around his torso a little too tight for his taste.
“Tomioka-san.” Shinobu starts, her hands continuously steady as she wraps the bandages with precision and efficiency around his chest. “I don’t think we’ve had a heart to heart chat about (F/N)-chan, don’t you think?”
After Giyuu’s surprise confession, you and Shinobu were able to drag him to a nearby room. He was passed out cold, and between you two, carrying a fully grown man would still be difficult, even if you’ve both had special pillar training.
He woke up a few minutes after you were done stitching the open gash at his stomach which caused his bloodloss (and slightly embarassing fainting spell). These unfortunate series of events have led him here, painfully being bandaged by none other than Shinobu. It wold have been nice if you were the one doing it, but Shinobu sent you to go look for more bandages with this sickly sweet look in her eyes—which you barely noticed in your worry. The worry was sweet, but now he knows Shinobu’s motives. Interrogstion.
Giyuu could do nothing else but nod, doing his damn best to not flinch, and keep still.
“You see, she really likes you, you know? I’ve never seen (F/N)-chan happier than she is when she’s with you. Honestly, I don’t know why she does, and what she sees in you but I like seeing her happy. You and I both know that she deserves it.”
Giyuu watches her wrap the bandages with practiced ease albeit with a little more force than necessary. Hearing Shinobu talk about you so fondly has him feeling grateful that you had someone who cared so deeply for you, and who was so willing to do anything to keep you happy. Even if the brunt of her attacks did fall on him, he could understand where she was coming from.
“She does,” Giyuu says, surprising Shinobu as she finds the softest, most fondest look she has ever seen on Giyuu’s immovable face. For a moment, Shinobu could see that he cared so much for you—as much, if not more than you cared for him—and she knew that he would never do anything to hurt you.
Unbelievable. She can’t believe he passed her test so easily.
She lets out a heavy sigh, turning back to the task at hand with a saccharine smile ready on her face.
“All that said, If you hurt any part of who I see as my beloved sister, I'll make sure to use my medical expertise to ensure you don’t get a chance to spread your genes—”
The door slides open with a nice loud clack, preventing Giyuu from hearing the rest of Shinobu’s sentence. Just as well too. He doesn’t think he’d want to hear the rest.
“Shinobu-chan! I’ve got more bandages for Giyuu!”
“Ah, thank you, (F/N)-chan!” The Insect Pillar smiles, taking one of the fresh bundles you offered, as you moved to the side of the room, arranging the medical supplies for easier access.
Shinobu leans down, under the guise of tying the gauze, as you flit around the room, spreading sunshine in your trails. None of you mention how you blatantly avoid eye contact with Giyuu. But it’s not like he’s initiating any either.
“I don’t think I need to continue my sentence.” She mumbles under her breath. “Do you understand?”
Giyuu winces as she tucks in another piece of bandage, grumbling in response. “Loud and clear.”
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BONUS:
Later that night, Shinobu left the two of you alone in Giyuu’s hospital room to talk it out. It was a little awkward at first, but as the two of you melt the ice, your usual sunny personalty—ironic, as you were the Snow Pillar—takes over. Throughout the course of the evening, you take out his hand with his permission, and have the time of your life holding it. It was a little funny how stiff and unused he was being at hand holding, but you found that to be one of his unexpected charms. And it wasn’t like he was complaining. He actually found it adorable how small your hands were, and how it fit really well against his own.
“So you don’t like Shinobu?” You ask a little shyly, playing with the tips of his fingers.
Against your skin, you feel him shiver in disgust as he looks slighty disgusted by question. “Gods, no, never.”
“So you were serious about liking me? It wasn’t a joke?”
“I don’t think I’d joke about that in my final moments.”
You giggle, feeling a little silly for even questioning it. But really, you don’t think you could be blamed for it. “You have a point.”
The two of you stay in comfortable silence for a while. He watches you trace vague shapes against his palms and he’s never felt so at peace before, than he did at this moment. After a while though, a curious thought strikes him, and he can’t help but want to ask.
“...What made you think that?”
The tips of your ears stain pink before you look away and bring one hand to your cheek. “Well I thought you two liked each other, and it seemed like she suited you much better than I would.”
“I only ever liked you. I thought I was being obvious.”
As blunt as ever.
“Ahaha!” You laughed, getting flustered in spite of the warmth pooling into your chest. “Well, I guess not enough for me.” It’s not as if you were able to notice. You did think he liked Shinobu after all. “By the way, why did you think I was going to die?”
He look up at the ceiling. “One of Tanjirou’s friends...that boar kid told me you couldn’t walk, and that you couldn’t move.”
“Inosuke? Oh, that…that actually makes a lot of—a lot of s-sense!”
Giyuu watches you fondly as you laugh. In your defense, the thought of you spraining your ankle being blown out of proportion by none other than Inosuke was funnier than you ever expected.
“Don’t laugh.” Giyuu pouts. It was the most adorable thing you’ve seen. “By the way he said it, I really thought you weren’t going to live to see another day.”
You breather deeply, giggling a little as you look at him with mirth and happiness dancing in your eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll explain it to him tomorrow. But I guess I should thank him. If you weren’t nearly half-dead on your feet, neither of us would have confessed.”
“Yeah. I‘ll go with you.”
“Cool! Cool...Um, Giyuu?”
“Yes?”
“Could you maybe… perhaps, say that again?”
“Say what, again?”
“That you like me?”
Giyuu chuckles, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I like you.”
He’d say it a million more times if he gets to see you smile like that again.
“Heehee, I like you too Giyuu!”
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a/n: i got a little sick of rereading this so many times, so, apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes!! i hope ya’ll liked it though uwu
also, are any of you playing genshin impact? man, that game saved my sanity, and at the same time caused more insanity....it’s fun.
if u guys wanna play, feel free to send me your uid’s! i’m at world level 6 so i can go into most worlds :^)
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sushi0989 · 3 years
Text
Pick Me If You Want To (part 3)
Summary: Set in the early 1950s, you are an aspiring photographer that is currently working at a toy store until you make your big break. During a surge of Christmas shopping, you are first met by Wanda Maximoff, a mother of twin boys and married. She leaves her gloves, which gives you the opportunity to meet her again. She takes fond of you, and you of her, but her messy divorce with her husband, Vision, risks the custody of her twins. Does she continue your blossoming relationship or fight for her kids? Based on the movie Carol
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Warnings: smut and explicit content, don’t read if you’re under 18! 
Word Count: 6k
A/N: After this chapter, I think it’s going to take me longer to get content written and published because I want to take my time with writing and making sure that it’s good before I post. Enjoy reading! <3
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You and Wanda arrived at a rundown motel in Ohio to stay the night. You wished you had the ability to drive so that Wanda didn’t have to exert all of her energy, but alas you did not. Despite appearing a bit ragged on the outside, the interior of the motel was quaint and surprisingly polished. You dragged your ratchet luggage to the front desk while Wanda effortlessly tugged hers along since all four of her wheels were working properly unlike yours. She found your clumsiness adorable as she attempted to conceal her giggles while you struggled.
The old man at the front desk, however, was not amused by your failure at picking up your luggage as he found it frustrating since it was not that hard to maneuver. As the two of you reached him, he already filled out most of the form. You took notice of his posh demeanor even though this had to have been at most a 2-star motel. Who does he think he is? He wore a light blue dress shirt with a black tie, his shiny bald head was his most striking feature. His peppered gray goatee was thin and his thin-rimmed glasses were held together by tape in the middle.
“I have a two-bedroom suite on level 2 room number 3. Could I get your name and the number of nights you plan to stay?” he asked with little civility due to his irritants for your lack of professionalism. Wanda took notice of the man’s behavior and responded in the same manner.
“Wanda Maximoff and one night is enough. And why don’t you get some manners and help my friend with her bag instead of silently judging her?” Wanda huffed and raised an eyebrow. After he wrote down the information, the man cleared his throat and walked around the desk while muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch. He assumed that you lacked the knowledge of rolling your bag by the handle, but then he noticed that one of your wheels was broken and understood why you were struggling. 
Wanda laughed at him, not making any attempt at hiding it this time. You couldn’t help but laugh with her and the two of you walked past him to get to your room. The man gave up and carried the luggage up to your room instead of dragging it along the carpet. The still night allowed your giggles to echo into the atmosphere, but it eventually stopped as you neared your room. Wanda unlocked it with a key the man, who was struggling with lifting the bag up the stairs, gave to her in the lobby. 
There was nothing too alluring about the room, it was quite average. The two twin beds, both an interesting orange color with stripes, had a few feet of space in between them. There was a window next to the front door with curtains that matched the color of the bedsheets. The bathroom had the basics: a shower, toilet, sink, and soap. You were surprised there was toilet paper as well.
“I expected worse,” you admitted with a pleasantly surprised expression as you took in the room. You heard the man’s heavy panting get louder as he neared your room, practically stumbling when he placed your luggage inside. 
“That’s what happens when you make assumptions without doing a bit of digging,” Wanda teased, the man rolled his eyes and muttered “Merry Christmas” as he left. She quickly shut the door while you flopped back into the bed nearest to the bathroom, claiming it as yours. 
“If I’m feeling this tired then you must be exhausted. You should get some rest,” you told Wanda who opened up her bag and pulled out some pajamas. You watched as she dug through to look for something, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration and her teeth nipping at her bottom lip. 
“I will, I want to take a shower first, but I can’t seem to find my towel,” Wanda continued rummaging through her bag, but you understood by her huffing and puffing that she must have forgotten to pack it. “Here, let me get mine out of my bag,” you insisted and rose from your bed. Wanda assured you she brought it even though you both knew she didn’t. “Oh, please it’s no big deal. I’ll take a shower in the morning and I’m sure it’ll dry by then,” you waved her off as you easily found your towel in your luggage.
You handed her your light purple towel and she hesitantly took it with a sigh, there was nothing she could really do; either accept your offering or try to find a rag in the cabinet that would most likely be moldy. 
“Thank you very much,” she smiled with gratitude and you nodded back, her smile bringing a shiver up your spine and fluttering in your stomach. It was something about that dark red lipstick that made you go crazy. No. You can’t let her get to you or else this is going to be another Steve situation where you’ll end up breaking her heart. Besides that she is a soon-to-be divorced mother of two children, you definitely aren’t ready for that. But her lips.
Wanda blushed when she saw you staring her lips up and down, but then you got flustered when you realized that she caught you and quickly turned away. Neither of you mentioned it, so Wanda made her way into the bathroom but caught a glimpse of you smiling at your thoughts. 
While Wanda showered, you could hear her humming some songs you had never heard. It was pure bliss to your ears as you laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. How were you falling for this woman so quickly? A woman. You would have never thought you would be head over heels for a woman in this day and age. Sure, you’ve had some crushes on girls, but you would brush them away since it was taboo. But with Wanda, there was something more alluring about her. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed to reciprocate those feelings back to you.
The way she comforted you when Steve left was something you were so grateful for, but that is what was sending you to your tipping point. You knew that this wasn’t just you craving her touch, but also her heart. Right now, however, you needed to make sure you were also there for her. She’s in the midst of a heated divorce with her husband and about to lose her husband, so you couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. If she wants to get closer, then she will have to make the first move. 
“Go with the flow,” you muttered to yourself as you pulled at your fingers.
“What was that?” Wanda hummed as she stepped out of the bathroom, your towel wrapped around her body and steam infiltrating out of the bathroom. Her body was moist and glistening from the excess water, her hair sopping wet with water dripping from them. You were speechless. You immediately covered your eyes out of respect. 
“God, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to stare,” you quickly apologized which earned a chuckle from Wanda. “Oh don’t worry you can look. I’m covered up, am I not?” she teased and bit her lip seeing you fluster at her response. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you continued to ramble. “Please, would you think I would come out like this if I was uncomfortable?” she questioned, but you didn’t answer.
“Well, the answer is no. I forgot to bring my clothes with me into the bathroom,” she stated as she walked over to her bed where her pajamas were neatly folded. You gradually lowered your hands from her face and glanced at her state. Damn, did she make your towel look so good on her. 
She picked up her clothes and scuttled back into the bathroom and you sighed. Trying to not make the first move was going to be extremely difficult for you. 
Your thoughts began to wash over one another as sleep loomed over you. You were completely passed out by the time Wanda was out of the bathroom. You were lying on your side in fetal position on top of your sheets. Wanda quietly walked towards you and gently pulled the folded blanket over you and made sure it covered your whole body. She watched as you nuzzled your head deeper into your pillow and let out a sigh when you cuddled the blanket for warmth. 
Wanda ingrained this moment in her mind and quietly left the room in search of the motel’s telephone which she spotted near the stairs that led to the first floor. She dialed a phone number and stood patiently until she heard the line connect.
“Hello?” a groggy voice answered. “Vision, let me speak to the boys,” Wanda requested with a hushed voice. “They’re already in bed, Wanda. It’s nearly 11 pm,” he replied with annoyance. Wanda bit her lip, she just wanted to talk to her children and wish them a Merry Christmas since she didn’t get the chance to in the morning.
“Vision, please,” Wanda didn’t want to beg, but she missed her boys. She wanted to see their faces lit up as they unwrapped the train set she had ordered. The train set you recommended. 
She heard Vision sigh as he stepped away from the phone. “Hello?” a high-pitched tired voice answered. “Merry Christmas, Tommy! Is Billy with you, too?” Wanda’s heart warmed hearing the voice of her child. She yearned to hug them and kiss the tops of their heads.
“Yeah, I’m right here, Mom,” Billy replied also with a tired voice. Wanda smiled to herself listening to them, she imagined them standing there half asleep rubbing their eyes.
“How was your Christmas? Did you enjoy the train set?” Wanda asked. She knew they would love it because they were into building things and using their imaginations, just as she and Pietro would also do as children.
“It was so cool! We played with it all day, thank you, mom!” The two of them responded at the same time, making Wanda chuckle. The cool wind outside began to pick up causing Wanda to shiver.
“Okay boys, go to bed. I’m sorry I woke you. Be nice to your dad and grandparents and I’ll see you both when you get back,” she said sternly trying not to let her voice break. The twins said their ‘I love you’s’ and hung up the phone. 
Wanda sighed as she went back to your room and silently shut the door once again. She turned off the lamps that lit the room and got into her own bed facing you. She stared at you as she dozed off as well, your peaceful expression being the last thing on her mind as she fell into a deep slumber once her exhaustion hit her.
The morning sunlight seeped through the cheap curtains of the hotel room and shined directly into your face. As you became aware of your surroundings, you could hear the birds singing outside filling the atmosphere with their beautiful tunes. You opened your eyes facing away from the window so you wouldn’t blind yourself.
A faint rhythmic snoring caught your attention, so you turned around seeing Wanda sprawled out on her bed still sleeping soundly. One could easily disregard it, but the room was so quiet that you couldn’t help but take in this moment. You didn’t find it to be obnoxious, unlike Steve’s. His snores would start deep in his throat and wake you even when you’re blacked out. You eventually convinced him to get diagnosed with sleep apnea and he had to learn some breathing exercises to lessen them, but they still persisted and now you could proudly say you can sleep through a train passing by.
You figured you should get up and take a shower now before Wanda does so that you guys could hit the road as soon as you could. You stretched your back once you sat up on your bed and saw your towel draped on a chair sitting in the corner of the room. You were reminded of Wanda’s after shower figure: wrapped up in your towel, red hair dripping wet, body shining from the condensation of the steamy shower, and now you were going to use that same towel.
You picked out a casual outfit to wear so you could be comfortable on the drive and you quietly slipped into the shower as to not wake up Wanda. You let the shower run for a minute so the hot water would come through, and it relaxed your body as it hit your skin. Wanda left her shampoo and soap sitting on the side of the tub, so you figured it would be okay to use it for yourself. The smell of peaches was pleasant, you could only imagine how it would smell on Wanda. As you finished up, you rubbed lotion on yourself before putting on your clothes.
The cooler air of the room was a punch to the face, but you received another punch when you saw Wanda’s backside completely bare, only wearing her undergarments. Thankfully she didn’t notice you come out of the bathroom drooling at her appearance, so you stumbled back into the bathroom making sure you gave no indication you exited in the first place. 
Wanda heard the click of the bathroom door and quickly turned around only to see no one there. She briskly put on her black slacks, a blue blazer over a white blouse, and tied a red ribbon around her neck, and knocked on the bathroom door to let you know that it’s okay to come out. 
“Don’t worry I didn’t see anything,” you stammered as you walked out of the bathroom trying to be nonchalant about the situation. “Are you saying I look bad with no clothes?” Wanda faked being hurt with an exaggerated gasp, but you took it literally.
“What?! Of course not! I didn’t say that! You look grea- I mean, you look perfectly fine,” you replied defensively but bit down on your tongue to try not to embarrass yourself more. “I’m just teasing you, darling. Enough of that, we need to hit the road if we want to get to Chicago by tomorrow tonight,” she exclaimed, resuming packing up her clothes.
You decided to leave your towel out and laid it across the back seat of the car to let it dry. The old man from last night was replaced by a younger-looking man who seemed to be much nicer. He was happy to assist you in taking your broken luggage into the car without any hesitation. He insisted that the two of you try out the breakfast that the motel provided to their ‘esteemed guests’ in the dining hall. 
“I felt so esteemed last night by Mr. Baldyhead,” you muttered under your breath as you and Wanda walked to the breakfast bar. Wanda snorted when attempting to suppress her laughter at your comment. There were more people than you had expected. 
You gathered eggs, a couple of pancakes, and strawberries onto your plate and took a seat at an empty table towards the center of the room. Wanda was still eyeing the bar, so you waited to begin eating until she came. A man with sleek combed back hair in a suit gave a sly smile at you from the table seated at the table next to you. You reciprocated by giving a shy smile back and he proceeded to get up to introduce himself. 
“The name is Loki Odinson, lovely to meet you two ladies,” he held out his hand in front of you and you brought up yours to shake it. “Nice to meet you as well, my name is y/n, '' you replied with a timid voice.
“What is a beautiful young woman like you sitting here all alone?” he inquired as he turned his head to see if anyone was with you. “I’m not alone, my friend is still gathering some food,” you pointed at Wanda who was now on her way. She had a confused look when she noticed the mysterious tall man, and he looked over at her and nodded in understanding.
“Hello?” Wanda said to the man with her eyebrow raised, “Do you need anything, sir?” He took a few steps back over to his table, “No, no, I just was making small talk with y/n over here. What brought the two of you here?” he asked, obviously wanting to continue the conversation. He must be alone and bored, so he’s just trying to keep himself busy, that’s what you told yourself at least.
“We are actually heading to Chicago, this is just a pit stop for us,” Wanda explained as she relaxed once she realized the man was harmless. She took notice that you had been waiting for her before beginning to eat, so she lightly kicked your foot to get your attention to tell you to eat. 
“I’m headed there, too! I’m actually a traveling salesman so this is my daily life to go from one place to another,” he exclaimed with excitement. He continued to explain how he first acquired his job and what he’s doing now as you and Wanda listened intently to him, finding his outlandish stories entertaining.
“So when my dad kicked me out of the house, I went down a really dark path and got roped up in some illegal schemes. The big boss guy of this cartel wanted me to go undercover and infiltrate their rival to steal this gem that originally belonged to him, and since I was new, no one would suspect me of being a double agent. Anyways, it didn’t go over well because my brother, who works for the authorities, caught both cartels and, me being his brother, he let me go. That led me to discover my passion for sales marketing and exploring cities, so here I am now!” He concluded his very long story.
“You were part of a drug cartel?” you asked in disbelief. This guy definitely talked way too much to be a part of a cartel, somebody would surely shoot him in the face to get him to shut up. “I know it may seem crazy at first, but I assure you it’s no lie,” he laughed, but you and Wanda looked at each other with wide eyes. 
After talking to the man for another twenty minutes, and him attempting to sell you some magazines, the two of you finally got up from the dining hall. 
“I need to make a phone call to Monica, why don’t you go get settled in the car and I’ll meet you there,” Wanda touched your shoulder and you nodded, trying to ignore the tingling feeling of her hand on you. 
“Hello Monica, how’s it going?” Wanda spoke into the phone. 
“Vision came by my house looking for you. He was drunk and I told him off. I also might have told him you were going to Chicago with y/n,” she said hesitantly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t do anything, Wands,” Monica tried lightening the mood, but the pit in Wanda’s stomach said something otherwise. “He’s trying to take full custody of the boys, Mon. He’s gonna poke and prod through any little misgivings of mine he can find to make sure of it. And I don’t want him getting his hands anywhere near y/n. I’ll call you when we reach the next stop, thank you for everything Monica,” Wanda hung up the phone and took a few deep breaths to collect herself.
There was no way he could find anything that could sway the judge in his favor. She was their mother for the love of god. What kind of monster takes a mother away from her children? 
Wanda entered the car and forced a smile at you which you didn’t think much of. You two finally left the small Ohio motel and were back on the road. This time you wanted to ask Wanda more about her life story since you spilled all of yours leading up to the first pit stop.
“Oh well, my parents were quite well off thanks to my grandparents. Their marriage was arranged so all of my life my twin brother, Pietro, and I had to endure their bickering on a daily basis. He was and still is, one of my best friends. We would run off into the woods to this little pond that was so clear that you could almost see the bottom where the crabs would crawl. We’d spend most of our time creating imaginary worlds and pretending we were in the old wild west or flappers in the 1920s or knights in the renaissance. Those are the memories that outshine the terribles of my childhood,” she smiled as she reminisced, you were leaning the back of your head against the window watching her while listening intently.
Her smile faltered, a sad one replacing it. “When my parents tragically died in a freak accident when we were 10, Pietro and I had to move in with my mother’s parents. Living with them was nice, but they couldn’t handle us so we were shipped off to separate boarding schools. Pietro went to an all-boys one while I attended an all-girls one. Being without him really… sucked. My first few months there were miserable until I met Monica. She became my bestest friend and we still are to this day,” she let out a slight chuckle and you smiled with her.
Wanda glanced at you for a moment as she contemplated her next statement. “She was also my first love,” you raised your eyebrows and bit the insides of your cheeks. Your assumptions from earlier were correct then, but it still hurt to hear it out loud. 
“Interesting,” you replied and turned away to look out the window, making Wanda furrow her eyes at your sudden change in demeanor. You knew you had no right in being mad at her, they obviously weren’t together anymore. But you couldn’t hide your slight jealousy, and Wanda thought it was a bit endearing that you cared so much.
“Anyways, so the two of us were together for a few years until we realized it wasn’t meant to be, but we stayed very close friends. My grandparents arranged for me to marry Vision because it would be a good step for our family businesses since his family was a rival to mine, but we went on a few dates before we settled on the engagement. Being married to him was nice at first, and then we had the twins, and then things went downhill from there I suppose,” Wanda shrugged her shoulders and sighed. 
You were now feeling guilty for your rude behavior, so you put your hand on her leg to show your sympathy. “Sorry for being rude right there,” you apologized and Wanda assured you that it was okay. 
Wanda knew you might be wary of answering her next question, but she figured after spending over twelve hours with you on the road the two of you had grown quite close. You already had ripped out a fart which signified you were already pretty comfortable around her.
“How did you meet Steve?” she pressed her lips together when she felt you tense up against her even though your side was barely touching her. 
“We met through a mutual friend and we hit it off pretty well. My friend set us up on a date after seeing us connect so well the first time we met, and then it just blossomed from there. He and I worked well for the first year we were together, the honeymoon phase is what people call it I hear. We were two people madly in love, but he just never matured as time went on. He always expected me to make breakfast or do his laundry out of my love for him,” you explained while pulling at your fingers. You felt fine speaking about him for once, you didn’t feel guilty anymore for breaking up. That was all thanks to Wanda and her assurances.
Wanda nodded in agreement, she knew by how you were that you loved being independent and striving to meet your dreams without anything or anyone weighing you down. Steve was dead weight to you achieving your aspiration of being a photographer. He didn’t even have the decency to get you a good camera.
“Well, I’m glad you broke things off with him because he obviously didn’t know how to treat you right. You are a lovable person, don’t think twice about that,” Wanda gestured for you to come closer to her, so you pressed your side up against hers and relaxed your posture.
Wanda placed her right hand on her lap trying to get you to place yours on top, and you took the hint and inched yours slowly but surely up to it. Wanda smiled when feeling your grip tighten around her hand. You felt safe with her, that you could trust her words. As the car ride went on, you fell asleep, your head resting on Wanda’s shoulder and she didn’t make an attempt to shrug it off. She enjoyed the feeling of you on her. 
The next motel was much nicer than the last one, even the workers were much nicer than the bald guy. It was late in the afternoon when the two of you arrived, the both of you starving only having had breakfast in the morning. Once you both had settled, you suggested you go to a nicer restaurant for dinner which Wanda immediately agreed to, both deciding to wear fancy dresses to blend in. The two of you snuck into the fancy five-star hotel across the street and nonchalantly chatted to not draw attention.
The waitress asked for your room number and name, “Maximoff, room 623,” you answered without hesitation and Wanda gave you a knowing look. “Right this way, Mrs. Maximoff,” the waitress gestured and led the two of you to a table with two chairs.
You were in the mood to really satisfy your tastebuds, so you chose to order lobster. Wanda looked at you wide-eyed, but you gave her a cheeky smile with a wink, so she ordered filet mignon. As the two of you waited for the food, the conversation came so easily between the two of you. Effortless. 
“You sang very nicely in the shower this morning,” Wanda commented while taking a sip of her red wine. You raised your eyebrows, “I didn’t know you were awake. I would’ve shut up if I had known I was too loud.”
Wanda waved you off, “Oh please, I enjoyed it. It was almost as good as the first time you sang to me.” You blushed, but the wine in your system gave you a newfound sense of confidence that urged you to continue the banter. 
“If you liked it so much then why don’t I sing you to sleep tonight?” you suggested seductively with a smirk. Wanda was a bit thrown back that you countered back, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked this side of you. 
“I wouldn’t mind that,” she replied with a low tone, biting her lip at the thought. 
When the bill came, you told them to place it on the tab and the waitress nodded quickly. Wanda laughed so hard to the point she snorted which caused you to laugh at her. It was a nice moment, one you wish could last forever. 
The two of you were buzzed, giggling all the way back to your motel room and it only continued once you were there. Wanda pulled out a bottle of champagne from her bag and popped it open, the cork leaving a small dent on the wall. This caused you to roll on the floor with laughter, you each took swigs straight out of the bottle which only added to your drunken state.
You were both sitting on the floor right next to each other leaning your backs against one of the beds. “Are you going to sing to me now?” Wanda inquired with her champagne bottle pointed at you. “Well if you insist, M'lady,” you replied as you cleared your throat. 
The only lyrics you could remember at the moment were the song you had sung to her while playing the piano. This time as you sang, you stared into her enchanting emerald eyes, your gaze never wavering from them so she knew every word was directed at her. 
“Everybody loves somebody sometime. And though my dreams were overdue, your love made it all worth waiting for someone like you,” as you finished the song, you noticed Wanda leaning forward, so you did as well. Her lips slightly puckered out and her eyes were closed, so as you neared her, you closed yours and anticipated for the moment your lips were in contact with hers.
Even though you were expecting it, the feeling was completely different than what you had expected. She was the light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel you had been lost in your entire life. You always thought Steve was meant to be it, but no, he wasn’t. You were completely wrong and now you had your answer.
Wanda’s lips were soft but also overwhelmingly persistent at trying to savor every little bit of you. Your hands were gripping her waist, slowly massaging it as her hands rubbed your neck. The alcohol made your actions clumsy and less methodical, it was more about rushing to get to what you had been craving for quite some time.
One of her hands caressed your bare legs and slowly made its way up to your dress. You shuddered, but you wanted more. You tugged her arms to get her up onto the bed, unzipping her dress from behind and allowing it to fall to the ground when you had her stand up. 
Your eyes met with Wanda’s hungry eyes as she turned around, she launched at you crashing your lips together once again as if she was a breath of fresh air after drowning at sea for so long. She pulled down the straps of your dress, allowing it to fall as well, both of your chests now bare. The back of her legs felt the bed behind her, and so she allowed herself to lie back onto it.
You climbed on top of her, your legs straddling her torso, and you continued to kiss her lips passionately. You trailed kisses down her jaw to her neck before settling on a point of her neck that caused her to sigh deeply. She guided your hands to feel her chest, and you obeyed, allowing your hands to sensually massage them. 
“Please touch me,” she pleaded, letting out another sigh. You trailed your mouth and latched onto her nipple and your tongue circled around them. You allowed your hands to glide on her stomach and down to the band of her underwear, tugging them down. You gave the same attention to her other nipple and Wanda couldn’t hold the moan she was trying so hard to suppress.
Your tongue made her feel like she was jelly, each kiss you gave held so much passion and love that she had been craving from the first time she had spoken to you. The glint in your eyes told her all of the potential you had hidden within you, and now you were expressing it to her. 
You continued your kisses down her stomach, her back arching with each one from the sensitivity building up inside of her. You kneeled at the edge of the bed and pulled her towards you by her legs. You kissed her inner thighs up until you were met with her core which was radiating heat. You gave a languid lick on her sensitive center and she tried squeezing her legs together at the feelings, but you forced them apart by putting them over your shoulders.
“I’m not done with you yet,” you retorted with a smirk and Wanda grabbed the sheets into her hands to brace herself for what was going to come next. You latched your mouth onto her clit, giving slow circles with your tongue to tease her. Her moans were soft, but you knew she wanted more, so you then slipped one finger inside of her causing her to gasp. 
You pumped your finger in and out slowly while continuing to lick her clit, and the feeling was becoming all too much for Wanda, but you persisted. You felt her grinding her hip to create more friction and her hands were pushing the back of your head into her more. You added in a second finger making Wanda whimper, but she hadn’t asked you to stop yet.
You felt her walls clenching against your fingers, so you went faster. She cursed obscenities which only motivated you more, you curled your fingers making Wanda let out one last moan originating from her gut. You slowed down and took your fingers out of her, licking up the juices she released making sure not to add to her sensitivity.
Her legs were shaking and you knew she was exhausted already from the car ride. You crawled up onto the bed next to her and she cuddled up to you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck. She leaned in and kissed you, tasting herself in your mouth. “All I asked was for you to sing to me, but you really outdid yourself with that,” she whispered against your lips.
“Maybe I just wanted to listen to you sing to me,” you chuckled as you pecked her lips and pulled the sheets over the two of you. Wanda furrowed her eyebrows, “Hey we’re not sleeping yet, I still haven’t gotten my turn with you.”
She seductively bit her lip as she threw the sheets off of you and straddled you. “I’m not gonna stop you,” you smirked and she leaned down and kissed your neck, not even attempting to stop the sigh that escaped your lips. You knew this was going to be one long night that you were going to never forget.
When the two of you woke up in each other’s arms, you dreaded getting up, you just wanted to lie in that position forever, but it was time to hit the road again. You freshened up in the bathroom while Wanda said she was going to go check out in the lobby. 
“Mrs. Maximoff, right?” the woman behind the counter confirmed. Wanda nodded her head and the lady gave an envelope with her name written on it. “It came by this morning for you,” she explained and Wanda frowned as she tore it open.
Wanda’s heart dropped, letting out an audible gasp as she marched her way to the car where you were putting in the last of your things. You saw Wanda’s face and you furrowed your eyebrows at her. “Wanda? What’s wrong?” you questioned, but she was completely frantic at the moment.
“Where’s my suitcase? Where’s my fucking suitcase?” Wanda kept shouting as she dug through the trunk. She found it and pulled out a revolver and your heart literally stopped. “Wanda, you’re scaring me,” you said, but she continued to march over to the room that was right next to yours from the night before it and slammed it open. You trailed behind her.
That’s when you saw Loki standing in his sleepwear with a set up of cameras and audio recorders located right at the shared wall with your room. Wanda was furious and pointed the gun at him. “Where is the tape?” she demanded and Loki gulped the frog in his throat.
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sageinacage · 3 years
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ok retry because tumblr deleted the prompt from your askbox >:( how about a fic with lee!eret and ler!foolish where foolish knew that eret was ticklish in the past, and now in present day, he wants to know if that fact is still true and tries to discover it for himself? i love ur fics btw!!! :D
Old Pal summary: foolish is curious if his old friend eret is still ticklish. a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THEIR DYNAMIC I APOLOGIZE THAT ITS PROBABLY A BIT OOC BAHAHA warnings: n/a w/c: 1.6k DSMP, Platonic
~
‘Was the sun always this bright?!’ Foolish squinted in thought, looking up at the clear sky as he raised his hand to block the rays of light aimed right at his face. He huffed, lowering his hand and leaning against the furnaces he set up in his construction area.
It was a sunny afternoon, a light breeze brushing through the leaves on the trees scattered around the area. Foolish was busy today, working on the mansion he was commissioned to build for his friends Ranboo and Tubbo. It was a beautiful building so far, so much done but so much to do still.
“What time is it?” The shark-totem hybrid asked himself, opening his inventory to grab ahold of his clock. He smiled to himself. It was only one in the afternoon, a perfect time for a lunch break.
He walked down the path, going back to town. As Foolish walked, he took the time to look around, looking at the buildings around him. He smiled as nostalgia filled his heart, then filling at a newfound speed when he saw the castle.
Arriving at the gates of the castle after a swift speed-walk, he walked in. You see, his old pal Eret lived in the walls of the gorgeous castle, and Foolish was one loving guy and just wanted to see his friend.
“Eret- King Eret? Are you hooome?!” He called out, chuckling at the echo he heard. Amused by the echo, Foolish kept on yelling. “Yoo-hoo, Eret! Your pal is here!” He continued to shout, laughing at each echo he heard back. About to shout again, he heard a chuckle; one that didn’t belong to himself. Foolish whipped around, seeing a person wearing the signature sunglasses of his friend.
“Eret!”
“How’s my friend doing?” They smiled, opening his arms for a hug. Foolish, being much taller than the monarch, bent down to surround them in a tight hug, lifting them up with him as he stood up straight. “Alrihight, put me down, Foolish!” Eret laughed warmly, being put back down on their feet only after a dramatic whine from the hybrid.
“Still a big softie, I see?” The monarch chuckled, fixing their shades which got tilted from the big hug Foolish gave. “Eret, you’re talking like I haven’t seen you in years. Well- I mean, it has been a while…” He rubbed the back of his head, bashfully smiling at the light chortles Eret produced. “It has been a while, you goof.”
The two had some good laughs as they ate lunch together, catching up on what has been going on in each other's lives; but also talking about memories they remember. One really stuck with Foolish, a memory of when they used to playfully fight all the time. By ‘playfully fight,’ I mean tickle each other.
“Foolish, do you remember our old tickle fights? Those were always so fun.”
Did they just read his mind? Foolish’s eyes widened before he composed himself, smiling. “Yeah, I usually won them as well.” He sniggered, earning an exaggerated gasp from his friend. “You did not! I was usually the victor, don’t lie to yourself!” Eret laughed, picking up Foolish’s and their plates to bring them to the kitchen.
Foolish smiled to himself, then looked up in thought. ‘Were they still ticklish? Could someone even lose ticklishness? Am I still ticklish?’ The hybrid hummed as thoughts played in his mind, not noticing Eret’s fond smile at the doorway of the living room. “Whatcha thinking about there, pal?” They smiled, Foolish cowered sheepishly at the sudden voice.
“Oh- Eret! I didn’t notice you were b- back already!”
“You’re nervous. What’s on your mind?”
“N… Nothing!”
“I don’t believe that, Foolish.” The monarch sighed, sitting on the soft couch near the table. “Why don’t you sit down?” Eret offered, Foolish slowly making his way to sit next to them on the pillow-filled couch.
“Are you sick? You’re quite red.” They furrowed their eyebrows, placing the back of their palm on Foolish’s forehead. “I’m fine, I promise!” Foolish smiled, snickering to himself at how Eret really never changed. They’ve always been so kind and caring, always taking care of their friends and people who mean loads to them.
“You’re lost in thought again, friend.” Eret smiled, the other crossing his arms. “You can tell me what’s on your mind, you know I wouldn’t judge you for anything.”
“Are you ticklish, Eret?” Foolish blurted out, Eret’s raising their eyebrows in surprise, but melting into a soft smile. “Why were you so nervous to ask that, you goof? Though I don’t know if I am… maybe? Who knows.” Eret thought, before chuckling at Foolish’s sudden expression: it was a mix of surprise and happiness. It was a quiet moment- until Foolish’s little smirk turned into a wide, toothy grin.
“Let’s test it. I think it’s fair if I reclaim a few victories of my own, yeah?” Foolish giggled evilly before diving his fingers down to squeeze their waist. The sudden jerk the monarch produced exposed the truth. Yes, Eret was still ticklish. Definitely.
“Fooholihish!” Eret laughed playfully, holding Foolish’s wrists; but not pushing him away. “Aha! So you are still ticklish!” Foolish excitedly announced, his squeezing fingers turning into fluttering fingertips up Eret’s ribs over their dress shirt. “Nihihice obsehervation!” The sassiness is definitely still there as well, apparently.
Foolish hummed in thought, trying to remember any sweet spots. You could practically see a lightbulb appear over his head as his face lit up. “Whahat are you plahanni-IHIHAHAHA- FOOLISH!” Eret squealed, throwing themself back on the couch. Foolish’s hands gently squeezed up and down their thighs, eventually settling on the spot right above their kneecap.
Laughing at the sudden cackle, Foolish stopped his squeezing to just rake his slight claws up and down their thighs instead. “It looks like getting a victory will be easier than I thought, huh?”
Eret shook their head. “You neheed to t- try haharder than thahat, paha-AHAHAL, NOHOT THEHERE!” They threw their head back, glasses almost flying off as the squeezing started up again, moving to the under-sides of their thighs. The mix of squeezes and raking on the backs of their thighs was driving Eret mad, the feeling nearly unbearable.
“Fiiine, it would be fun to figure out your tickle spots allll over again, don’t you think?” Foolish sniggered, slipping his hands out from under them, only to wiggle his fingers over Eret’s stomach. They immediately sucked their stomach in on reflex, squirming gently to get away from the impending claws over his belly.
“Oh? What’s wroooong, Eret? You think you can get away from my tickles? Is that it?” Foolish raised an eyebrow, lowering his hands before Eret could get a word of retaliation out. The monarch kicked their legs, arms crashing down to weakly shove at the attacking hands. “F- FOOHOLISH! SHUHUSH!” Eret let out more high-pitched giggles, a few hiccups peppering through their laughing fit.
“No, I don’t think I will. It’s fun to talk about how ticklish you are, and how much I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you! Laugh for me!” The hybrid teased, cooing little noises at the monarch as he wagged a single claw over their ribs, as his other hand prodded on the side of their belly. “Oooh, maybe instead of the ‘King of the SMP,’ you could be the ‘King of Giggles!’ I like that better. What do you think about that, King?”
Eret shook their head, face growing red and warm at the new title bestowed onto them. “STOHOP T- TAHALKING!” They playfully rebuttal, earning a head shake from Foolish. “That wasn’t very nice, King of Giggles! I think I should humble you a little bit, yeah?” Before Eret could retaliate, their words evaporated into nervous giggles as they felt the bottom buttons of their dress shirt come undone.
“Y’know Eret, a while ago when we had these tickle fights, you always did something that made me lose every time. Do you remember what that was?” Foolish started, then smirked. “I believe the technique is called a ‘raspberry.’ Does that ring a bell, Eret? I bet it does, you’re blushing right now.” He smiled, pushing the bottom of their shirt aside.
As they felt cold air brush over their belly, shivers rushed over them and butterflies erupted in their stomach, now excited giggles bubbling up from their throat. “Juhust do ihit!” Eret complained, digging their heels into the couch behind Foolish.
He laughed, leaning down. “Alriiight, you technically asked for it, though!” Foolish smirked at Eret before planting a large raspberry right underneath their navel. Screw Foolish and his strong shark lungs. “F- FOOLIHISH- YOHOHOU WIHIHIHIN- I GIHIVE! PLEHEHASE!” Eret managed to get out through their laughter, grabbing a pillow to protect themselves with as they caught their breath.
“One win for Foolish, let’s go! Looks like I’m in the lead now.” Foolish crossed his arms triumphantly, a proud smile plastered on his face. “Wehe’re tahallying up wihins now?” Eret asked, fixing their crooked glasses. The hybrid nodded at them, putting his hands on his hips as he stood up.
“Hmm, I better get my lead back then.” Eret smirked, Foolish’s proud grin shifting into a skittish smile. “Wh- what? Wait, Erehet. Yohou don’t need toho!” He shook his head, putting his arms out in front of him as a ‘defensive mechanism.’
“Watch yourself, old pal. I think it’s time I discover your tickle spots now.”
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thezebrawlw · 3 years
Text
Donna Beneviento x Maiden.
I'M A BIT ANGRY 'CUZ WHEN I FINISHED, MY COMPUTER DID SOMETHING WEIRD AND RESTARTED AND WHEN I LOGGED IN AGAIN EVERYTHING WAS ERASED AND AAAAAAAALSKDFGKJDFKA
Warning: Mild suicidal content // Mentions of sexual abuse.
(A/N): (I'm still studying English, so if I have a mistake, I apologize)
Summary: A maiden arrives at the Beneviento mansion. What will happen when Donna begins to live with her?
(I'll do a part two, because I don't want this to be too long.)
- - -
The day the maiden arrived at the Beneviento mansion, it was raining. The door opened effortlessly. Not even the toxic pollen from the plants would drive someone crazy enough to come close to the house, so there was no need to have locks.
A chorus of high-pitched voices scared the young woman "what are you doing here" "how did you get in?" "You shouldn't be here" "Let's play with her, let's play with her"
The young woman felt scratches on her arms and on her legs, someone bit her arm and pulled her hair hard enough to almost rip it out.
"Please, I just want to hide," the woman yelled.
"You shouldn't have come in, stupid girl" "Now you belong to us"
Suddenly the dolls fell to the ground and crawled back to their places.
The young woman saw a shadow materialize in front of her. It was a slim figure, covered entirely in black, opaque cloth. The figure was carrying a doll in wedding clothes in their arms. It was from that doll that a hollow voice came out.
"You shouldn't have come in, stupid girl. Now you're never going to be able to come out."
"I don't care," said the maiden, "if you want to kill me, just kill me. I'd rather perish under the hand of a noblewoman than die from those hunters."
"You're not worth Donna's time" the doll spoke again.
"If you don't want to murder me, then let me serve you" implored the maiden "your house will always be clean, the fire will always be lit, there will be no dust shavings on your beautiful dolls, just please, let me stay here, Lady Beneviento"
Donna didn't move. Beneath her veil she had an arched brow, confused by her request. The pollen must have made her hallucinate enough to make her say those things.
"Change those old rags that you have as clothes and find something to clean", say the doll.
"Yes My Lady"
"The name’s Angie and the only Lady here is Donna. Got it, muddy face?"
"Yes, Miss Angie"
From that day on, the young woman became the servant of Lady Beneviento.
Working there would be easy if it weren't for the mischief the dolls played on her. If she swept, the dolls would run around the little mountain of dust. When the floor was freshly waxed, the dolls dragged their knives on the wood. At night, the dolls would not stop laughing or making sounds of babies crying. They also watched her sleep, sometimes sitting around her bed.
But the maid never complained, she just looked at the mess they made with a tired smile, as if she was watching little children do mischief. Even if they watched her sleep, the only thing she could hope for was to be killed, but that never happened.
During the first weeks Donna tried to induce the maiden some hallucinations, but it seemed not to work, she assumed that her new servant had some kind of immunity to cadou and by extension to the pollen of the flowers that grew around the mansion.
Donna watched her and evaded her in equal moments. The leader of the Beneviento was locked in her room or her workshop for most of the day, so te only way to keep an eye on the maiden was through her dolls.
It was for that reason that the maiden always walked with a small retinue of dolls behind her, like a mother duck with her chicks. She was used to it by now.
That's how Donna realised that the maid was a very good singer, but a distracted cook. She was thankful that she didn't need to eat, just a drink now and then, because she didn't think she would be able to eat coal with sugar in it.
She also noticed that the maid was an active conversationalist. She talked a lot and about everything. The dolls listened to her and little by little they began to join in the monologue.
The young girl listened attentively and that was how she learned the dolls's names, where they were located in the mansion and what they liked to play with.
Watching her, Donna also noticed that the maiden looked out the windows, a melancholic smile kept on her face when it snowed or when the sun made an appearance.
One particularly snowy day, the dolls pulled the maid to the front door, asking her to come out and play for a while.
"I don't know, I don't think Lady Beneviento will give me permission"
"It will only be a while, it will only be a while", said the dolls.
The maid had never asked Donna for anything since she arrived. Donna hadn't spoken to her either, if she needed something, Angie would be the one to speak in her place.
Then, a dark figure appeared on the stairs. It was Donna accompanied by Angie. The doll spoke for her.
"You can come out"
"I... Am I allowed, My lady?"
Donna nodded. Angie spoke.
"If you promise to stay in the garden"
"Yes, yes, thank you very much, My lady, Miss Angie"
Donna allowed Angie to join the others and then went to her room. From her bedroom window, she watched her servant and her dolls play in the snow. The young woman made small snowballs and distributed them to those who only asked one, becoming the person in charge of making ammunition for the doll's games.
Angie began to converse with the young woman. Thanks to her connection, Donna could hear her.
"Why did you come to Beneviento mansion, mudy face?"
"They were chasing me"
"Who?"
"Hunters. They know that my mother was a witch and that her blood runs through my veins. They are afraid that I'll curse people."
"Would you do it?"
The maiden laughed, a wicked, sing-song laugh.
"I already did it" under her clothes, she showed an exquisite necklace made with rose petals. "The petals of this rose are tongues of the people who tried to abuse me."
In her room, Donna froze. This young woman could be dangerous if offended enough. Would her witchy nature be of any benefit to Mother Miranda? She decided to keep her longer and also to ask the dolls to stop their pranks.
One night, the maiden slept peacefully, too peacefully, so peacefully that she awoke in the middle of the night. It was not normal to sleep like this as the dolls were still making noises. When she lit her room with a candle, she realised that she was alone.
She went out into the hallway and heard sobbing and banging upstairs. She ran to Donna's room and found the dolls by the door.
"My lady?"
Angie's voice answered.
"Go away."
"Do you need anything?"
"Go away."
"I can get you something to drink if you--"
"GET OUT!"
Then a group of dolls armed with knives followed the young woman to her room. She locked herself in and felt lucky to be alone.
Donna's anxiety attack ended around three in the morning, so it was to be expected that she would wake up after midday. She also knew that her attack had caused some dolls to break, so she grabbed Angie and left her room.
She noticed that there was no one in the corridor. Donna looked for her dolls and found them in their respective places, they were broken, but there wasn't a speck of dust on their bodies.
Donna asked if they had returned on their own, but the dolls replied that it was all thanks to the maid. Donna busied herself with her dolls upstairs and when she came down to the living room, she found the maid carefully cleaning the face of one of her dolls.
"You are ready, I will now place you on the table so that... ¡My lady!"
Donna smiled under her veil.
"What are you doing?" Angie, as always, spoke instead.
"I figured you wouldn't be feeling well, so I decided to accommodate the dolls instead. Is... it okay?"
Again, Donna did not answer. Instead, she turned her attention to repairing the broken arms and legs of the dolls, apologising quietly to each one for hurting them.
The maid continued her work on the cleaning and that was the first time the two had been in a room together for more than two minutes.
In the night, some of the dolls still in need of repair talked to Donna, all of them telling her about the maid and how pleasant her company was. They told her that the young woman was a good listener and that although they could not feel warmth, they were sure that her touch was warm because she was almost always in the kitchen.
The dolls also tell Donna that the young woman (they all referred to her as "mudface" thanks to Angie), was very good at playing hide and seek and sometimes helped play tricks on other dolls.
Donna realised how fond they had become of the young lady, so she decided to thank her in her own way.
In the morning, the maid found a small box wrapped in a ribbon. Inside was a pair of woollen gloves to protect her from the cold and a note in elegant handwriting that said "thank you".
Donna looked out of the window at the maid. She was hiding behind a fountain so that Angie would not find her. The day was snowy and somewhat cold, but it was no problem for the maid because her hands and neck were protected by gloves and a scarf.
Both items were Donna's creation. The leader of the Beneviento continued to make small gifts for the maid as a way of saying thank you for the care she took of her dolls.
When the game was over, and thankfully spring was in the air, Angie and the young lady sat down to enjoy the sunshine and make a couple of wreaths.
She finished making one for Angie and placed it on her head, then made a larger one and told her to give it to Donna.
She looked up and found Donna watching her, the maid smiled and waved, though Donna remained still.
The gift was well received by Donna and in gratitude she knitted another pair of gloves.
The end of winter was all about giving small gifts. It was no longer about gratitude, the two women liked to see each other wear or use the gifts they each made.
A flower necklace dipped in amber, a hood for the cold, a jar of biscuits, a flavouring made from pleasant-smelling herbs...
Donna left her room more often, sharing space with the maid. The evenings were quiet, but not uncomfortable. She still didn't speak directly to the young woman, so Angie always had to step in to make small talk.
The young woman, despite her nature, tried to speak little so as not to make her mistress uncomfortable, for which Donna was grateful.
On one occasion they were both in the library, each reading her own book. They were not sitting close together, but within sight of each other. They were silent, until Donna let out a little giggle. The maid couldn't help but glance in her direction, eyebrows arched and a half smile on her face. She had never heard Donna laugh before.
"Are you having a pleasant reading, my lady?"
Beneath her veil, Donna stood still. Angie was playing somewhere and couldn't answer to explain the reason for her laughter, so she just nodded.
From that day on, the maid tried to make Donna laugh more often. Sometimes just making funny comments or other times telling jokes to the dolls, making sure Donna was close enough to listen.
Donna laughed more often and was in a better mood. You could see it in the way she walked and in the new dolls she created. Even in the laughter that could be heard from her room when she was talking to Angie.
But one day, her progress in confidence slipped back.
This is the end of part one.
Part two is here
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sandwichfox · 4 years
Note
Can you do a Hc of how the main 6 would react with a child apprentice (like one of the spells goes wrong and the apprentice is transformed temporary to a kid?)
Asra
★ Oh no. He told you that the rosehip had gone bad, remembers explicitly saying “don’t use the rosehip, I’ll bring some from the market later”. Of course, he can’t scold you for it now, since you’re currently sitting on the floor bawling your eyes out. Also, you’re approximately six years old.
★ He’s just coming through the door, but he can already tell what happened. Your knees are scraped and the stool you were sitting on is laying next to you on the floor. It’s likely you fell over when the brew exploded, and you’re now so small, it must’ve felt like a great height. There’s red potion splattered on the walls and ceiling. How much had you used? It’s supposed to only turn a light peach color. 
★ He’s by your side in a second, bags forgotten at the entrance. He closes the door quickly with a wave of his hand and kneels next to you to look at your scraped knees. You’re sniffling now, wiping at your soft cheeks with the back of your hand. “They don’t hurt too much” you hiccup “can you tell me where I am?” Your voice is so high, hilariously polite in tone. You just got scared, he realizes, finding yourself thrown off the stool and all alone in the shop all of a sudden. You’ve stopped crying altogether in favor of looking up at him with big, curious eyes. 
★ “You’re in my shop. I’ll still put some salve on them, don’t get up” he searches the cupboards for the tin, his mind elsewhere, at least he knows what went wrong, though it’ll be a hassle to fix, he starts piling ingredients for the cure in his arms. “What’s this?” You ask from behind him, face press against a jar of lacewings. He scoffs and sets the ingredients on the table. You haven’t changed, then. “Lacewings, I told you not to get up” his tone is amused, he approaches with the salve just as you skip to another corner of the shop. “They don’t hurt. What about those?” He manages to get a hold of your shirt, now a dress on your tiny form, and laughs as he applies the ointment “snail eyes” and your look of disgust makes him burst out laughing. 
★ Asra’s careful not to go into many details of your life, or what happened with the spilled potion. You don’t seem to remember being older and he wants to advert a possible crisis. Instead he answers your incessant questions as honestly and patiently as he can while he works on the cure, and finds that he doesn’t need to entertain you much otherwise. You look delighted when he asks for your help passing him ingredients. Then peeling the physalis enthusiastically when he asks you to. He doesn’t need them for the cure, but you had been putting off the task all week. Asra smirks to himself. 
Nadia
♠ Nadia calls out your name, rushing into the room, brows furrowed with worry. She had been just about to come inside when there was a flash of bright light, a sharp bang, a startled cry, and then a clatter of falling bowls. 
♠︎ “Darling?!” Her voice is tight as she approaches your writhing form, you’re slumped against the bookshelf, seeming to be tangled in a length of fabric. She quickly comes to your aid, peeling the curtain of fabric back from where she assumes your face must be. “I heard a crash and thought-… oh my” In your stead, staring right at her with unabashed wonder, is a child. You, she realizes with dawning dread, you’re the child. 
♠︎ “Who are you?” You breathe, reaching out towards her face and then, seeming to remember yourself, pull back with an embarrassed look. “Are you a princess?” Nadia can’t help her smile. “Countess, actually” Your eyes go impossibly large “oh” you look around “sorry about your bookshelf.”
♠︎ Nadia knows she should have gone to Asra immediately, but aside from your current -ahem- situation, you don’t seem to be in any pain or discomfort. On the contrary, you’re unabashedly lively. And, as she’s come to find out, you’re letting yourself be spoiled, for a change. Look, she was already on her way to the shop, alright? You were the one who pointed out the bright, colorful balloons when the carriage passed by the market.
♠︎ It was worth it, Nadia thinks, when you’re back inside the carriage. She moves the big -shiny green- stuffed beetle (a beetle, what a peculiar child) out of the way so you can rest your head on her arm. You’re sleeping, all tuckered out, you don’t even move when she wipes at your round, sticky cheeks with a wet cloth. “To the shop” she tells the driver, and maybe feels a smidge guilty about wanting you to stay like this a bit longer. She won’t though, it was just a thought. Though she’ll remember your fondness for smoked, salted almonds when you’re back to normal. 
Julian
♦︎ He swears he hadn’t meant to startle you. It’s just, you had been working on that spell for hours now, and he could see you growing increasingly frustrated every time it failed, sparks sputtering and fizzling before going out. He intended to make you take a break, calling to you from the other room and then poking his head in when you didn’t answer. He approached you gently, calling your name again. You didn’t even seem to hear him, tongue between your teeth and gaze severe with concentration. Julian sighed and tapped your shoulder.
♦︎ You jump, flailing just the slightest bit, but it’s enough. In a moment the sparks between your hands glow green then blue then white. He barely has time to gasp before he’s being thrown back, ears popping with sudden, suffocating pressure. And then it’s gone. Nothing more than a ringing in Julian’s ears and an upset inkwell left as evidence of the sudden explosion of raw power. 
♦︎ Julian rubs at the back of his head where it hurts. Then spots the pile of clothes on the floor, the very ones you were wearing. He’s rushing to you so fast that he has to blink to clear the spots from his vision. “Are you alright?! I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I-“ he’s cut off by a long, drawn out groan from you, surprisingly high-pitched. And then he realizes you’re… you’re… -huh- the wrong size. 
♦︎ You look at him and shriek, startling him into a yelp, “oh! I won’t hurt you, I’m not a criminal, or… anything like that” even as a child (a child! he’s trying not to freak out) the expression on your face makes his stomach clench “I promise, you’re safe” you look sideways at him, unconvinced “I’m a doctor, actually. So, well quite the opposite of a criminal then, don’t you think? I heal people. Or, well, try to“ If anything, the already scared look on your face turns worse, mouth turning down at the corners into a terrified scowl. Oh no. 
♦︎ Well, he certainly can’t fix this on his own. Especially not with you keeping a very careful distance, looking at his hands with sharp suspicion, as if you expected him to be carrying a giant secret syringe that he just hadn’t revealed yet. Besides, this has to do with magic, so he wouldn’t be able to help, even supposing you’d let him. So here he is, shifting nervously after having knocked at the shop’s door. He looks behind him to check that you’re still there, only for you to squeak and hide back behind the lamppost, not hidden at all. Julian sighs. 
Muriel 
♣ Muriel knows you’re at the clearing, you’ve come more and more often to practice spells (the shop was too small and you had broken one too many jars). He can hear you shifting and muttering incantations, even through the trees. He comes into the clearing just as something goes wrong, the light between your palms glows brightly and then seems to be absorbed into your own body, pulsing under your skin once before throwing you back. 
♣︎ Muriel doesn’t even think, just throws himself between you and the trees before you can hit them, landing on his chest instead with a small oof. You look up to him, surprised. “Muriel! Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to happen, heh, but thank- oh!” Suddenly you shout, doubling over in pain and clutching at your own skin as you… shrink?
♣︎ He grabs you tighter, terror gripping him tightly as you writhe in his arms. “What’s wrong?” He asks, panic speeding up his heartbeat “what’s wrong? What hurts?” You stop suddenly, turning to look at him with confusion on your face. Your small face. Your round, child face. “Nothing hurts” you tell him, puzzled. Muriel drops you. 
♣ Strangely, you seem to trust him immediately, uncaring of his towering height or scowling face. You’re holding his hand and skipping by his side on the way to the shop like nothing’s the matter. He tries to soften his expression when he turns down to answer a question or coax you towards a less crowded path. You reward him with a small smile, it’s the same one he knows, but it’s missing a front tooth. 
♣ After a few minutes of silent walking Muriel notices you glancing up at him every few seconds, shy blush on your face, mouth open as if to ask a question, then turning forward again. “What is it?” he asks after the fifth time this happens. You start, looking down again. “You’re very tall” you mumble. Muriel’s cheeks turn pink. “Yes” he says simply. “Oh” you pause, “can I-“ you look down again “I- maybe- I bet you can see everything.” Muriel sighs and picks you up to place you on his shoulders. He can’t help the small grin at your delighted squeal. 
Portia
♥︎ “Helloooo?!” Portia looks up from her chopping board at the call, halfway through slicing the strawberries for dessert. You should be coming for dinner, but she remembers you were practicing some spell or another near the fountain, you shouldn’t arrive until much later. She furrows her eyebrows and walks over to the window. A small figure comes stumbling into her garden and then promptly gets their foot snagged by a graspgourd. Portia wipes her hands on a washcloth and hurries outside. 
♥︎ “Are you alright?” She asks gently. The child looks up and Oh, oh no. As soon as you see her you lower lip wobbles, but you bite down on it to keep from crying. “I woke up in the forest, I walked all over but I think I’m lost. Do you know where I am, miss?” She kneels down at your side to untangle the vine from your ankle, brushing gravel from your scraped knees “Oh, just Portia is fine, you’re actually not in the forest at all” she smiles kindly, “you’re in the palace gardens, specifically my own little patch. Would you like to come inside while we figure something out?” Her eyes twinkle with amusement at your look of wonder, seemingly forgetting all about the fall as you get up. “Gardens?! But they’re so big!” She extends her hand and you take it, following her inside her cottage. 
♥︎ She’s curious about what you remember, and about how you were as a child. She’s told you countless stories about her childhood in Nevivon, but you obviously can’t do the same, considering your lack of memories. She tries not to pry too much though, it’s difficult, considering how trusting you are. It honestly worries her a bit, how easily you opened up to her, what would have happened had you found someone else instead of her? No use dwelling on it though, and she wants to think it was just her amazing personality that made you trust her so easily. 
♥︎ “Are you hungry?” She asks, she notices you clutching at your rumbling stomach after finishing a particularly dramatic story, you remind her a bit of Ilya, when he was a young boy. You look up in surprise and she giggles. “Let’s see what we can find in the pantry, huh?” Should she call someone at the palace? No, what would they be able to do? Hopefully this is only temporary, but she doesn’t want to assume it will go away on its own. “Thanks, miss Portia” you say as she hands you a plate with snacks, she has given up on correcting you. 
♥︎ She knows a bit of magic, but not enough to reverse something like this. Perhaps she should call Asra, that seems like the safest bet. She can’t stop looking at you. You’re sitting at her table, nibbling at a slice of cornbread and turning a jar of jam this way and that for inspection as you eat, your legs swinging happily under the table. You’re adorable. “Miss Portia?” You ask around a mouthful of bread “when is your cat coming back?” She had sent Pepi to go get Asra while she kept an eye on you. She’s trying not to think too much about the current situation, there’ll be time to freak out after you’re back to normal. Hopefully Asra will be able to do something. Portia hums. “It shouldn’t take long.”
Lucio
▲”Can’t you go any faster?” Lucio grumps. You look up from his metal arm, incredulous. “Listen, I’m the one that’s doing you a favor here. And maybe you’re not aware that I could charm it into slapping you in the face, if you keep on like that” He turns red. “Right, sorry.” he says sheepishly, then keeps quiet for maybe a few precious seconds “but it’s taking so loooong.” “Lucio-” you start, then take a deep, calming breath. “Maybe you should try fixing an alchemical arm, infused with unfamiliar magic, see if perhaps you do any better.” you mutter, “keep still.” He twitches his finger, just to spite you. 
▲”Ugh!” You shriek, magic glowing brighter in your hands as you jump “you’re such a child!” The glowing red behind the plates of his arms sparks with a pop, blinding him. “Ow” Lucio protests, blinking furiously, he opens his eyes and turns to you. But… you’re not there. He swivels his head around for a second before he spots you, getting up from a pile of fabric and dusting yourself off casually, lifting the too-big strap of your gown back onto your shoulder with a dignified swipe of your much-smaller-than-before hand. 
▲ Air escapes him in a -very dignified and not at all shrill- scream. You trip back over the hem of your dress when you take an alarmed step back, just as the guards burst into the room. “Send for Asra!” He shouts. They don’t even say anything, just take a look at his face and step right back out, slamming the heavy wooden door and plunging the room back into silence. “Who’s Asra?” You demand, gathering up your skirt until the fabric is bunched up in your arms. You approach Lucio cautiously, seeming to size him up “and who are you?” Lucio drops his head into his hands, of course you wouldn’t remember anything. 
▲ Asra arrives maybe an hour later, interrupting your discussion. “Well?...” comes a high, inquisitive voice. “Well what?” Lucio sounds tired. Maybe this is not as urgent as the guards made it seem. “You say you’re the count, where’s your throne, then?” Lucio blinks “We’ll of course I have a throne, it’s just not he- Asra!” He doesn’t think Lucio has ever looked happy to see him until this very moment, his very gaze seems to be pleading for help. Asra looks at you, sighs “I know how to fix it, but it’ll take a while, I trust you can care for my small apprentice while I work?”
▲ “Asra” he whines “I can’t deal with this, I don’t know how to care for a child” Lucio mutters miserably, you shoot up immediately “I’m not a child!” he looks up at you and waves a vague hand in your direction “you’re like, five”. “I’m ten” you say haughtily, looking down your nose at him “and you’re old.” You add, for good measure. Lucio lets out an indignant squawk. Asra laughs and laughs.
-
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mimisempai · 3 years
Text
When you kiss me, you speak to my soul
Summary:
5 times when Loki receives an unexpected kiss and once when he gives one. (or more)
______
This story inaugurates a new series.
"Together, for all time, always"
This series is my way out in case our boys don't canonically have a happy ending.Background: After the events of the TV show, all the members of the TVA are aware of their status as variants and decide to work together on a better TVA. The main team is composed of Loki, Mobius, Sylvie and Miss Minute. The rest will come as time goes by. The stories do not necessarily follow each other.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203465
3123 words - Rating G
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1.
"Okay Loki! You know that in order to get your time travel pass, you have to prove that you know the rules perfectly."
Loki, annoyed, rolled his eyes and sighed,
"Honestly, I'm a rehabilitated variant, god of mischief, who saved the TVA from its slavery, that pass should be granted to me without going through any fucking tests!"
Miss Minutes jumped in front of Loki and pointed her little finger in the direction of Loki's nose, "Ttttt a god don't swear! And when the new TVA administration, of which you are a part, put the rules in place, you all decided to start over. With a new, admittedly less rigid, but still regulated basis that you signed up!  Come on, only two more points to validate!"
Loki grumbled, itching to send the little clock flying.
Unperturbed, Miss Minutes continued, "Tell me the basic rules of time travel? "
Loki began to recite in a bored tone, "Do not interact with yourself, do not interact with your ancestors, do not interact with historical figures. Don't interact with the big events in history even if it means not being able to save everyone. Pay attention to small details and use your time wisely.
"Perfect my little Loki!"
"Hey, a little respect Miss Mimi!"
The little clock coughed and Loki noticed a slight flush on her little cheeks.
"Well, then explain to me the three major paradoxes of time travel."
Loki, keeping the same jaded look on his face, recited again, "The Grandfather Paradox, if you go back in time to kill your grandfather, you effectively kill your father, and therefore yourself. The Predestination Paradox is simply when your past self is the very cause of your need to travel back in time. This creates an endless loop of travel, which is why it is also called a closed causal loop. Finally, the Bootstrap Paradox. It occurs when something is returned, often to the traveler himself, negating the need for its creation in the first place."
The little clock jumped all over Loki's desk, clapping!
"Yay my little Loki! You'll be allowed to get your pass validated!"
Loki, happy but irritated by the little machine, asked him, "So that means I don't need your lessons anymore, right?"
"Absolutely!"
Loki rubbed his hands together as he said, "Perfect."
He began to move his hand, thinking of a spell to cast on the annoying little clock.
A voice whispered in his ear, "Loki... what did we say about spelling those weaker than ourselves?"
Loki turned to Mobius with a pout, "but Mobiuuus, just a little spell!"
Mobius bent down and took the hand with which Loki was about to cast his spell.
He said softly, "These hands do such beautiful magic, it would be such a shame to make them cast second rate spells."
He laid a gentle kiss to the back of Loki's hand and then walked away with a quiet step.
Loki, slightly surprised, touched lightly with his other hand the place where Mobius' lips had lingered.
Then he got up quickly, knocked over his chair and ran behind him.
Miss Minute, who had witnessed the scene, raised her eyes to the sky and returned to her screen.
2.
Mobius was waiting outside the elevator.
"Mobius!"
Mobius turned around, Loki was coming towards him with a quick step. He looked at his watch and said with a slightly reproachful tone, "You'll really have to learn to be on time!"
Loki, with a cheeky grin on his face, replied, "I find I'm making progress, yesterday I was 13 minutes late and today only 11."
Mobius rolled his eyes and was about to answer him when they were interrupted by the voiceover from the elevator.
"The elevator is momentarily out of order, please use the service stairs."
Mobius walked to the door next to the elevator and held it open, waving his hand towards Loki.
"After you."
Loki walked past him and began to descend the stairs.
Almost arriving at the bottom, Mobius, on Loki's heels, put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face him.
"What's wrong?" Loki asked him, surprised.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine," Mobius replied softly before taking his face in his hands and leaning in to kiss him.
A few moments later, they separated to catch their breath.
Loki gasped slightly, asking Mobius, "I'm not complaining, but what was that for?"
As they finished descending the stairs Mobius replied, "It was the perfect opportunity to reverse the roles, for once I was the one who had to bend over to kiss you."
Loki was still smiling as they walked through the door.
As they passed by the elevator, the door opened to reveal the other members of their team.
"Huh? Is the elevator fixed yet? We took the stairs because they reported that the elevator was momentarily out of order, like... three minutes ago."
"What? But we got on it three minutes ago, four floors higher than you."
Loki looked back at Mobius with a little doubt.
Mobius replied, "Just because you're the god of mischief, doesn't mean you're the only one who can use it."
3.
"Argh, for crying out loud, dates, more dates, always dates!!!"
Loki rubbed his eyes trying to fight the fatigue that was overtaking him.
He stood up, took a few steps to stretch his legs before returning to his seat and continuing to flip through his files.
"Need a helping hand?"
Mobius put his hand on Loki's shoulder and gently squeezed it before sitting down across from him without waiting for an answer.
He continued, "I know this isn't your favorite part of the job, Loki, but it's part of it and I'm glad to see that despite your reluctance, you're not afraid to pitch in.
Loki grunted, "I just don't think it's fair, Sylvie never has to do this kind of work. She's always out there."
"Have you been traveling through time, through all kinds of apocalypses like her for that long?"
"Hmph!Always the voice of wisdom huh?"
Mobius snickered, "Me? No, of course not, but the wiser of the two of us, that I am."
"You prick!" muttered Loki.
"Hey, I heard that!"
They both immersed themselves in the files.
After two hours, Mobius saw Loki get up.
"I'm going to stretch my legs for two minutes."
"Okay."
Five minutes later he saw a small bowl of salad appear in front of his eyes.
Loki said to him as he sat down, "to make up for my bad mood of earlier."
Mobius put his hand on Loki's forearm, "Loki, there is nothing to forgive.  You are allowed to have mood swings. I'm not asking you to be someone else. But thank you for the consideration."
He ate the salad Loki had brought him while the god got back to work.
A little later, he was disturbed in his research by a light snore, he looked up at the familiar sight of Loki asleep, his head on his crossed arms.
He had a fond smile. He knew that this kind of work must seem tedious to someone like Loki and yet, even though he grumbled and acted like a drama queen on a regular basis, it didn't stop him from working seriously.
Looking at the time, he thought they had worked enough for today.
He stood up and whispered in his partner's ear, "Loki, wake up. It's late. We're done for the day."
As Loki slowly opened his eyes, Mobius placed a kiss on the top of his head before getting up and going to put the files away.
Loki straightened up and was stretching again when Mobius returned.
"Was I dreaming or did you kiss me on the head?"
"Unfortunately my sleeping beauty's lips weren't accessible so I had to settle for kissing the top of her head to get her to wake up."
Mobius winked at her and headed for the door.
He turned and said again, "Are we going home?"
Loki, who still hadn't gotten used to the warmth these few words provoked in him, quickened his pace to join him.
4.
When Mobius arrived at the cafeteria, he saw Loki concentrating at the dessert counter.
He joined him, placing his hand on his lower back to signal his presence.
"You look completely absorbed in the contemplation of these desserts. Do you have a favorite?"
Loki turned his head toward him and grumbled, "There's always so much to choose from. And every time there's a new kind. I don't even know what to choose. In Asgard there was fruit and... fruit."
Mobius was amused every time Loki was faced with this kind of problem. He made it an insurmountable challenge. This time, Mobius offered to help him.
"If you want we'll take several and share."
Loki nodded, " You choose, because I don't know what to take."
"Okay, go sit down, I'll pick and join you."
Mobius took a sample of several desserts, located the table Loki was sitting at and joined him.
They spent the next hour sharing the dessert plate. It was just the two of them left in the cafeteria. Loki was finishing the tiramisu while Mobius was bringing a last spoonful of chocolate mousse to his mouth.
"So, have you made your choice? What's your favorite?"
Loki licked his lips and replied, "Undoubtedly the tiramisu."
He put his spoon down and asked Mobius, "What about you?"
Mobius, who was sitting next to him, moved closer and looking at Loki's lips, murmured softly, "I'm hesitating between the chocolate mousse and the tiramisu."
He closed the distance between them and placed his lips on Loki's. Loki parted his lips and let Mobius explore his mouth with his skilled tongue. Mobius finished the fierce kiss with a light bite on Loki's lower lip, soothing him with a final lick. Then he moved back.
"I think in the end, tiramisu is my favorite."
5.
They had just returned from the mission and were in the locker room.
Loki was putting his things away in his locker. As always after a successful mission, he was so excited that he was talking non-stop.
Replaying the events in detail, and because he was Loki, he didn't hesitate to emphasize the moments when he and Mobius had been particularly good.
The rest of the team was used to it and listened with one ear.
Mobius smiled fondly.
Continuing to babble, Loki followed the rest of the team for the post-mission debriefing.
As he walked out the door, he felt himself being pulled back. Then a hand reached into his hair and pulled out the tie that held it together.
He looked back at Mobius who was putting the rubber band in his pocket.
"Mobius?"
Mobius walked over to him.
"Why did you do that?"
Mobius replied with a mischievous smile, "Because when you have your hair tied back, I can't do that."
He raised his hand, and pushed behind Loki's ear the strands of hair that fell over Loki's face, letting his hand linger on the god's neck.
" Neither this."
With his hand on the back of Loki's neck, he ran his fingers through Loki's hair to comb it before gently grabbing it and pulling his head back slightly.
Having cleared with this gesture the throat of Loki, he deposited a rain of butterfly kisses.
Loki sighed, his lips parted, "Mobius..."
Mobius moved back again leaving his hand in Loki's hair.
"Nor this."
He raised his second hand and joined it with the first on the back of Loki's neck, tangling his fingers in the long black strands before pressing gently, forcing the god to tilt his head forward. Their lips were so close that each could feel the other's breath. Mobius pressed his lips to Loki's, his fingers clutching his hair as the god's hands found his waist.
Their kiss was long and slow, and when Mobius pulled back, nipping at Loki's bottom lip, He saw that his eyes were clouded and his mouth wide open.
"That's exactly why I like you better with your hair loose."
With a smile, he kissed Loki briefly on the cheek and headed for the locker room door, the bouncy step of one who has just won a victory, oblivious to Loki's hungry stare.
+1
Loki had had enough.
Mobius obviously enjoyed starting fires with Loki and never extinguished them.
Loki was on edge.
Not that Loki didn't appreciate Mobius' spontaneous displays of affection and kisses, the man was extremely inventive and talented, but he felt like a ball of clay in his hands.
His pride as a god of mischief was at stake!
He had to regain the upper hand, just a little, just a few moments.
"Hoho miss Minutes, looks like someone needs to get laid!"
"Hey Syl! I'm just a pure little watch. I don't want to know anything about your sex lives!"
Sylvie sitting with her feet up on Loki's desk fluttered a paper cutter in the air and snickered back, " Which sex life Mimi?"
The watch returned to the screen and grumbled, "Never mind, Loki and Mobius's love life is none of my business! Hmph!"
Loki with his hands on his hips and a dark look in his eyes, muttered to Sylvie, "Don't you have a job to do instead of gossiping with that piece of junk clock?"
"Hey jerk! I heard you!" Shouted the little voice from the monitor.
"It's so much more interesting to watch you mope about your mustachioed prince."
Loki slumped into the other chair, a sulky look on his face.
"It's not so bad though?" asked Sylvie, studying him, her chin on her hand.
Loki told her everything, from the kiss on his hand to the fiery kiss in the locker room.
"And you dare to complain?!" Sylvie asked him, quite irritated, "You have a man who is completely devoted to you, and full of attention for you.  Do you realize how lucky you are?"
"Wait, Syl! It's not that I don't like it. On the contrary, but... argh" Loki tugged at his hair, "I don't know how to say it, before, the Loki before the TVA, I've always been a hedonist who enjoys the pleasures of life, who takes and throws, but now, even though I'm still a hedonist, I don't just want to consume anymore, I want to give too. And right now I feel like I'm the only one receiving."
"Aw, you're cute you know."
"Hey! Don't make fun of me!"
"But no, well just a little bit, but really Loki, the fact that you're thinking about this, shows how much you've evolved right? Have you even tried talking to Mobius about it?"
Loki shook his head, "You know me, I often talk a lot to mask my insecurities and also because I like to listen to myself talk, but anyway what I mean is that when it's serious I'm unable to express myself properly."
"And show him?"
"How?"
Sylvie rolled her eyes, "Loki, are you the god of mischief or not? You are capable of seducing anyone! Don't embarrass me!"
A few moments later, alone in his office, he thought back to this discussion.
How could he surprise Mobius?
Mobius who knew how to read all his tricks...
Of course! The answer was obvious!
What better way than a direct approach!
He waited for the right moment and went to Mobius' office, sure to find him there.
As he walked through the door, Mobius looked up, a smile blooming on his face as he saw Loki.
"Loki!" He wanted to stand up, Loki stopped him by waving his hand. With one hand he locked the office door and with the other, using a flick of his wrist, he turned Mobius's chair around before walking towards him.
Then, without warning his lover, he straddled Mobius' lap and framed his face with his hands before throwing himself on Mobius' mouth.
Mobius pushed him back slightly and managed to articulate, panting, "Wait, wait, wait Loki! What's the matter with you? Not that I'm against it, but I'm surprised, pleasantly surprised, that you'd take the initiative like this."
Loki with his forehead and lips against Mobius' replied, equally breathless, "The problem is that my lover has been teasing me all week, kissing me everywhere and at any time, and hasn't given me a chance to return the favor, so now you shut up and let me kiss you! It's my turn!"
As Loki resumed the interrupted kiss, Mobius decided, with the last fragment of coherent thought he possessed, that all he had to do was enjoy it. He just ran his hands over Loki's hips pressing him closer until there was no more space between them.
He tried to control the kiss, but Loki would not let him, and finally, after a brief struggle, he gave in to the kiss and the shivers of pleasure that ran down his spine.
He believed to be out of air when Loki moved back slightly and fixed him, the eyes shining with satisfaction, licking his lips like a cat which had just devoured a pot of cream.
They slowly caught their breath and Mobius couldn't help but gently tuck a lock of Loki's hair back behind his ear in a gesture that was becoming more and more familiar.
Loki leaned into Mobius' hand.
"Hey Loki, more seriously," Mobius told him softly, "does it bother you that I'm acting like this? Because you know you can tell me."
Loki sighed, "It doesn't bother me per se, it's just the lack of reciprocity, the fact that I'm receiving a lot and giving nothing."
Mobius shook his head with a smile, "Sweetheart," he couldn't help but notice that Loki seemed to appreciate the endearment, "that's not how it works. When you kissed me just now, did you feel pleasure?"
Loki, indignant, protested, "Yes, of course I-"
Mobius put a finger to his lips.
"It's the same for me, you know. I am aware that in your head the gears are spinning wildly non stop, but in such cases, don't think. Just enjoy it, there's nothing selfish about it."
Loki nodded, then passionately kissed his lover once more, until they were both out of breath again.
Then Loki traced a path of kisses from Mobius' chin to his ear and nibbled on his lobe before whispering, his breath making Mobius shudder, "The rest is for later my love..."
He stood up and headed for the door while swaying his hips, fully aware of the gaze that followed him.
Then before he walked through the door, he threw over his shoulder, with a mischievous smile, "I too can light a fire and make you burn for me."
_________
Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰
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scullydubois · 3 years
Note
What about a time when mulder meets up with scully to go for a walk with queequeg?
i may have gone overboard here, but how could i not? this prompt is so precious, thank you.
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Friday Night with Queequeg, 2.4k--set in season three
“I can’t, Mulder,” his partner insists, her voice dialed up a few intervals for dramatic effect. “I’ve got Queequeg to worry about.”
Mulder drops his Washington Nationals tickets on the desk in disappointment. How lame to be overshadowed by a dog. “That fluffy little guy?” he whines. “Or girl, I'm not sure.”
“He’s a boy.”
“Okay well, he reminds me of one of those Tamagotchi things, have you seen the commercial?” Mulder rambles while shuffling various stray papers from his desk into a single incoherent stack. He’s careful not to sweep the tickets into it. “It’s a pocket pet--”
“I know what it is, Mulder. I have a godson.”
“And is Queequeg not just a glorified version of one of those?”
“Yes, I suppose you could say that. He needs food and attention and care. But, in case you didn’t know, he is also real and capable of giving much of that back to you.”
“Eh, reciprocated affection is overrated,” Mulder jokes, though life would be a lot damn easier if he believed that. “And it’s one of the few Fridays where we’re not traveling or jet-lagged or wholly tired of each other.”
Scully purses her lips. “I see significantly less of Queequeg per week than I do you,” she mutters, and Mulder wonders whether some of her feigned contempt might be genuine. He’s used to being subtly disliked, but the thought sure makes him sad.
Seeing the passion in his face dissolve, Scully realizes that he’s backing down. It’s not like him to back down, no matter how frivolous the issue is. She knows this about him if she knows anything. It’s as if he’s giving up, and that strikes her more than anything.
“Haven’t you ever had a dog, Mulder?” she asks, ignoring the chair in front of her to perch on the edge of his desk.
“Once. After Samantha.” He laughs out of pure scorn. “I think it was my parents’ way of trying to replace her.”
Scully frowns. She should know by now that any journey into his past will turn into a probe of his eternal wound, and that’s no fault of his own.
“What was its name? And were you fond of it?” Scully feels like a therapist--hopefully a kind and supportive one.
“Sparky. I’ve got no clue where the name came from, or the dog for that matter. He was just kinda there one day when I got home from school. And then in a few months, he was gone in the same way. Taken to my uncle’s cause my parents couldn’t stand all the upkeep.”
A thought pops into Scully’s head that is evidently shared by her partner. “No, he didn’t “go live on a farm’ or whatever, I was old enough not to fall for that,” Mulder insists. “He really did go live with my uncle. Lived like seven more years.”
Scully raises an eyebrow. “But did you like him? Were you sad when he was gone?”
“I was sad about a lot of things at the time, Scully.” He opens his desk drawer and pops a piece of gum in his mouth. He’s out of sunflower seeds. “But about the dog? Eh, he was fine to have around but it wasn’t a quintessential boy and his dog moment. He was already a couple years old and well into his grumpy old man phase, if I remember correctly. And he was a mutt, so I think my parents hated him because he didn’t match the furniture.”
“Mmm.” Scully rolls her tongue over the roof of her mouth. It would be a shame to put Mulder through this whole conversation only to insist that she can’t attend the game. But she wasn’t just making excuses. Queeqeug has been home alone all day. and she always takes him for a walk when she gets home from work. He’s used to their routine now, sitting there at the door when she unlocks it like he’s got an alarm set. He gets his dinner when they get back home and falls soundly asleep. Scully’s convinced this is the only thing keeping him from rebelling for being on his own for ten hours a day, and she doesn’t want to test that theory.
Mulder glances at the office clock. 5:46. First pitch is at 7:05.
“How about this...” He props his feet up on the desk to give himself the air of confidence that he’s lacking. “I’ll run over to your place, walk him, make sure he does his business...the whole shebang. You can finish up here then take a taxi to the park, and I’ll meet you there. Sound good?”
The edges of Scully’s lips turn downward. Mulder notes that today, they are brushed over with a very nice coral. Must be a new shade.
“Do you really care that much about me attending this game?”
Mulder shrugs. Yes he does, but he’ll be nonchalant about it. “I bought the tickets cheap through a newspaper ad. I just thought it would be nice for the two of us to do something that’s not chasing phantoms.”
“Phantoms?” Scully’s left eyebrow arches. “Have I finally broken your spirit?”
Mulder smirks. “Sorry, I thought flattery might get me somewhere here.”
Scully taps a heel against the ugly linoleum floor. He’s so adamant about this...boyhood loves stick, she supposes.
“If it means that much to you, go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when you’re late for the start of the game. Queequeg takes his time.”
Mulder claps his hands together. “That’s fine, that’s fine!” Surely he can hurry the canine up. “You take one ticket and head to the seats, and I’ll find you.”
Scully pulls her lips into a thin line, a hint of humor gleaming in her eyes. “Okay, Mulder. Do you have your key?”
He nods, pulls on his jacket, and edges toward the door. “See you there, Scully!”
“Bye.” Scully smiles at the empty office. Her partner’s enthusiasm is endlessly endearing.
---------------------
Mulder has no time to register that he has no clue where Queequeg’s leash is, or if he’s supposed to bring some sort of bag to pick up any...ehm, droppings, or if there’s some special trick to walking a dog that makes it look easy when it’s secretly hard. In fact, he can’t recall ever walking Sparky. Thirty years old and never walked a dog before...surely that qualifies him for the Guinness World Record books.
Queequeg is alert at the door when Mulder opens it, and he’s glad the thing is more teddy bear than canine--he doesn’t have to deal with any barking or biting. He checks the coat rack for a leash, then begins rummaging around in the front table when he comes up short. It’s all old issues of girly magazines he never would have expected Scully to subscribe to.
Begrudgingly, he looks into Queequeg’s beady eyes. “Where’s your leash, boy? You wanna go for a walk? Show me where your leash is.” He uses a baby voice he didn’t even know he had.
Queequeg does nothing but paw the ground in annoyance.
“I know the feeling,” Mulder quips. He pulls out his phone and chooses Scully’s name from the speed dial list.
It rings and rings, then goes to voicemail. Mulder ends the call, grumbles, then tries the office number instead. She picks up after one ring.
“Hello?” her dainty voice projects through the line.
“Scully, you haven’t left yet?”
“I was just locking up the desk. Is there a problem?” she asks like she knew there would be.
“I can’t find Queequeg’s leash.”
“It’s by the pantry, next to his treats.”
Mulder sighs, heads into the kitchen. “And I suppose I have to take his treats too?”
“Uh-huh. And there’s plastic grocery bags in there that you can use to clean up after him.”
Mulder opens the pantry, sees the hoard. “I feared so.”
“We always go left down the block,” Scully tells her partner. “There’s a patch of grass that way he likes to chew on.”
“And how much does he pay you for such indelible service?” Scully doesn’t listen to a word he says, but she’s at the dog’s beck and call apparently.
There’s a bit of silence as Scully decides not to reply with a smartass remark. Then--”I’m leaving the office now,” she murmurs into the phone. “Better hurry up or I’ll beat you there.”
During this teasing, Mulder attached Queequeg’s leash to his collar. Now, as he tries to lead him into the living room, the dog refuses to move.
“Uh, Scully?”
“Yes?”
“I put his leash on, but Queequeg won’t budge.”
“Do you have the treats?”
Mulder shakes the treat bag and makes kissy noises to encourage the canine. (How humiliating.) Still, nothing.
“He doesn’t want to come with me,” Mulder says. “Even the treats won’t lure him over.”
“Are you sure it’s the right treats?” Scully asks.
“Since when are dogs picky about their treats? Treats are treats. And these are the only ones in the pantry.”
“Huh.”
“If you’re rolling your eyes, I can’t see it,” Mulder mutters.
“I’m not rolling my eyes, I just--we’ve never had this problem.”
“Has anyone else walked him?” Mulder wiggles the leash, which does nothing.
“My mom.”
“Well, maybe he doesn’t like men,” Mulder remarks.
“He lived with Clyde Bruckman…”
“Exactly.”
Scully takes a quick exhale. He has a point. “I’ll head over, okay? But I doubt we’ll make the game.”
“We’ll see.” Mulder sighs. He’s being...well, cockblocked isn’t the right word for it--but something like that--by a dog.
-----------------
Scully arrives half an hour later to find Mulder crouched on the kitchen floor rubbing Queequeg’s belly.
“Am I interrupting something?” she teases. The dog rolls over and leaps into excitement at the sound of her voice, abandoning Mulder altogether.
“Hi buddy.” She scratches his ears and dodges his attempts to lick her face. “You ready to go for a walk?”
Queequeg whimpers and sits as if she commanded him to.
Scully looks to Mulder with a brilliant, taunting smile. “I think he’s ready.”
Mulder stands up, every disk in his back rebelling against him. “That thing--” Mulder jabs a finger in Queequeg’s direction--”has a Jekyll and Hyde situation going on.”
“Really, cause you seemed to be having a great time until I came in.”
“No, no, no, don’t spin this. I had to get down on the kitchen floor because he wouldn’t move! What was I supposed to do while we were waiting for you, ignore him?”
Scully shrugs, tries to hide her smirk. “Well, if you were so bothered by him…”
“Whatever, whatever. Let’s just go for the walk, okay? I don’t want to miss this game, it’s against the Red Sox. It should be good.”
Scully takes Queequeg’s leash from her partner, gestures for him to go ahead. “After you.”
------------------
It’s a beautiful spring night--the perfect occasion for a baseball game, Scully will give Mulder that. The sun is drifting down the cloudless horizon, and the chill that has hung in the air for months is finally admitting defeat. The sidewalk is crowded with other dogs and their humans, eager to end the week on such a lovely note.
Queequeg trots blissfully in the usual direction. Scully lengthens her stride to keep up with him--for once she and Mulder are walking at the same pace.
“So this is DC on a Friday night, huh?” Mulder says, glancing around at their fellow pedestrians and bicyclists.
Scully nods. “If you got out of the office before seven, you’d know.”
“Doubtful. My usual impression of DC on a Friday night is the traffic on the 14th Street bridge, and I’m pretty sure I can witness that at all hours.”
Scully allows herself a sidelong glance at her partner. She had never realized someone could be too dedicated until she met Mulder.
“Have you ever considered getting a pet?” she asks tentatively.
His gaze snaps to her. He chuckles and sticks his hands in his pockets. “My complex has a hefty monthly pet fee. Rent is already bad enough.”
“Well it’s not like you go out often…” Scully starts, knowing this is short of a compliment. “You’re not a big spender, surely you have the extra cash on hand.”
“Ha, thanks,” Mulder responds. “Should I put that on my resume?”
“I just mean that…” Queequeg finds his beloved patch of grass, and they pause to let him chomp at it. “...you could use the companionship of a dog. Or cat, if that strikes your fancy.”
“I have enough companionship, Scully. More than I know what to do with. Have you heard my answering machine?”
“A woman from an 800 line is not companionship, Mulder. And you never actually answer any of your messages. Friends don’t count if you never see them.”
“Ouch.” Queequeg finishes up, and they resume the walk. “And what are your plans this weekend, Scully?” he asks, hoping to catch her in her own hypocrisy.
“As a matter of fact, I’m going to visit my mother tomorrow afternoon.”
Mulder busts out laughing. “You’re a real party girl!”
She ignores him, focusing on Queequeg. “But you get my point, don’t you? It’s not good to be alone all the time.”
“I seem to recall being told that we spend more time together than you and your dog,” Mulder wisecracks.
“That’s different,” Scully swears. “That’s work.”
“That’s the bulk of modern life, my dear.” He delivers this statement in an old-timey mid-Atlantic accent like some leading man of the 40s. It makes Scully smile.
“I have an idea,” she says, her eyes sparkling.
“Oh boy.” Mulder glances at his watch. 6:51. Damn it. “We’re gonna miss the game.”
Scully nods. “Let’s go to the animal shelter instead.”
Mulder stops. It makes Queequeg, and therefore Scully, stop too. “What?”
“You could make some dog very happy, you know. And Queequeg would have a playmate...I think it would be really good for you, Mulder.”
“Come on, I can’t just adopt a dog on a whim.”
“I did.”
“Shit.”
Scully laughs. “You’re realizing there’s no way out of this, aren’t you?”
Mulder grins. “Yeah, I--” He looks down and sees Queequeg taking a dump in the middle of the sidewalk. Scully readies the plastic bag she brought, then bends down and scoops the pile up like it’s nothing.
Mulder screws up his face. “On second thought…”
“Nuh-uh.” Scully ties the bag and taps it against Mulder’s arm. “You’re empty-handed, take this. It’ll be good practice.”
Mulder frowns but takes the bag. His partner’s huge smile is not lost on him, and it makes him smile despite himself. She knows how to get what she wants, and he has a feeling this one will benefit him too.
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Text
A Good Deal
lets not talk about what day it was bogizens... 👀 this is part of the hallmark june weddings event we did in the bog!  
it’s also on ao3 here!
Warnings: insecure eskel, stressed triss, honestly its pretty fluffy., could be classified as mild emotional whump.
_____________
Triss was frantic when Eskel trudged up the stairs to the back door in the kitchen. He paused for a moment, leaning against the railing where he could just see her through the window in the door, box braids falling out of her loose bun, some sort of sauce smudged on her forehead, her arm muscles standing out and furiously beating the ever-loving shit out of whatever was in her bowl. Fuck, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A little scary too, but that was his type.
“Afternoon, Gorgeous,” he called through the screen door, waiting for her to unlock it.
Instead of her normal ‘Afternoon, Handsome,’ he got a snappy, “If any bit of your clothing has been at the fire station, take it off out there. I just got the floors clean, and I don’t have time to do them again before the wedding.”
“If you wanted a striptease you could have just asked,” he chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head and kicking his boots off. All of him had just come from the station.
“Eskel, please,” her voice was about an octave higher than when he liked to hear those words normally, and the tightness at the end of her words made him worried.
“I’m clean, ish, can I come in?”
When she let him in she only gave him a quick peck before it was back to what Eskel could now see were egg whites.
“What’s wrong?”
That was apparently the wrong question. Triss dropped the bowl back onto the counter and braced herself against it, hanging her head. Her shoulders looked so tense Eskel thought the muscles might snap, “Fucking everything. Yen’s parents are getting in tomorrow and I only have the middle floor flipped because Annalee called in sick and Taylor is nowhere to be found, and I have to get this breakfast prepped because I have to make sure there’s food for the girls to eat while they get ready. Then I still have to call Jaskier and see when he’s bringing the cake and décor over and I have to run into the store to get the food for the next three days while they’re here and one of Yen’s aunt’s is allergic to everything under the fucking sun! Oh! And I also need to tell Jask to do everything last minute as far as the cake goes because I don’t have the fridge space and-and there’s still a goddamned molehill in the backyard where they’re having the ceremony and-“
Eskel wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing one hand over her sternum and one over her stomach, and held her tight while he whispered, “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out. Just take a minute to breathe for me?”
She took a shuddering deep breath and let it out as she rested her head back against his chest, brushing a stray braid out of her eyes, “…and I have a headache…”
“That,” Eskel mumbled, pausing to press a kiss to her forehead, “we can fix quickly.” He pulled them over to her medicine cabinet and handed her some ibuprofen and a large glass of water, also insisting she sit and eat something.
After a minute or two of Triss picking at some leftover pasta salad she groaned and shoved it away, “ and my mother called.”
“How’re Sheila and the dogs?”
“Fucking unbearable,” she grumbled, pitching her voice up and scrunching her nose to imitate her mother’s nasally voice, “ When are you settling down? I was so excited when you said wedding! Haven’t you hired an inn manager yet? Why do you still clean rooms? Did you read that diet book I sent you?”
Pushing her pasta back towards her after the last question, Eskel did his best to remain casual and calm, “I thought she hated me?”
“She hates all of my partners on principle, but you’ve made the top spot for ‘least hated’,” Triss shot him a little smirk as she aggressively stabbed some more pasta, “I told her I’m quite settled and we’re happy for now and to get her nose out of other people’s business- yes I see the irony .”
Eskel forced a bit of a laugh and tried not to bite his lip. He’d been thinking about this since Yen and Renfri’s engagement party. The way Triss looked at him while the couple gushed about how they were so excited to spend the rest of their lives together (and torment some relatives with making it official) had settled in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Every day, he flip-flopped on whether there was a little hope there or if she just thought it was sweet. And every day he berated himself for not bringing it up, but he had never even entertained the idea of marriage. Hell, his main relationship had been a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Geralt, and the few before that had been rocky at best. He wasn’t cut out to be a husband. Certainly not to someone so kind and gentle and fiercely loyal and sharp as Triss. What did he have to offer? A dangerous job and nasty burn scars for their wedding photos?
She must have sensed his hesitation and pushed her pasta over to him, “Eat. I need to keep cooking… and clean the top floor.”
He hooked an arm around her waist as she walked around the little kitchen island they sat at, pulling her close and stealing the keys out of her pocket, “I’ll go get groceries after I clean the top floor. Is the laundry started?”
“You’re too good to me, Teddy Bear,” she sighed, placing a kiss on his forehead.
“Not good enough.”
She frowned, resting her palm over his jaw and searching his eyes, “We’ll come back to that when the inn is ready.”
As he stood, he stole a quick kiss and darted up the stairs, “You’re taking a nap when the inn is ready!”
-
It had all come together in the end. Triss even got some impressed looks and glowing reviews from Yennefer’s family when they arrived. The periwinkle went beautifully with the gardenia Triss had woven through the lattice around the backyard and Eskel had managed to make the moles disappear and patch the grass so even she couldn’t tell where they’d been.
Eskel watched Triss dart around the property, even after her job was done, making sure everyone was comfortable and everything ran smoothly for the girls and as much as he tried to push it down, he was just reminded of how she deserved so much more. More than a scarred, overweight firefighter with a killer therapy bill and a studio apartment that looked more like a hotel room than a home.
As he was watching the different couples swooping around the tiny courtyard dance floor, hands materialized on his shoulders, immediately digging in right where he held tension.
“Now it’s really over,” Triss whispered in his ear.
“Oh? Will you take that nap now?” Eskel shot her a grin over his shoulder as he covered one of her hands with his.
She smiled at him as if he’d said something adorably cute and inaccurate, “I’ll take a dance ?”
Standing up and spinning Triss once before pulling her close to his side, Eskel sighed, “I guess I’ll have to settle for that then.”
Giggling a tad bit deliriously, they made their way onto the dance floor and snuck into a space between the other couples. Eskel did his best to relax and stay in the moment. He took deep breaths and mentally listed little observations about his surroundings, most of which revolved around Triss, and he even tried to distract himself by making some rather suggestive advances, but no matter what he tried, he was still thinking about what she deserved and how it was everything he wasn’t.
Triss rested her hand on his cheek and gave him her trademarked wide-eyed worried look, “Are you alright? Is your knee acting up?”
“M’fine,” he lied, “Just the champagne.”
“Bullshit.”
He should have known she’d call him on it, even in the middle of a wedding she wouldn’t let him get away with anything. Just another reason he wasn’t good enough for her.
Glancing around nervously, Eskel whispered in her ear, “Can we do this later?”
“Absolutely not. You’ve been acting strange for weeks now and it’s making me crazy,” Triss tapped on the point of his chin firmly, calling his attention back to her as they swayed and stepped in a small circle like everyone else.
“Been making me crazy too…” he mumbled, only receiving a furious glare that urged him to continue, “You’re… Triss you’re perfect. I love you more than anything and anyone I’ve ever loved before…”
Tears welled in her eyes as Triss brought them to a standstill, gripping his arms for dear life, “But?”
Eskel couldn’t help tucking her long thin braids behind her ear and caressing her cheek, “But I don’t know why you’re with me. Every time this wedding gets brought up I think about how you deserve someone so much more… whole than I am. Someone who can give you what you want and who doesn’t have a horribly dangerous job and doesn’t look like the Pillsbury doughboy…”
“First off,” Triss started, almost growling as she dragged him off the dance floor and in through the back door to the kitchen, “I thought you were breaking up with me so please lead with what you’re nervous about next time,” Eskel followed, absolutely dumbfounded as he was sat down on a stool like he was in trouble with the principal, “Second, I find your extra weight sexy as hell- no arguments! That is my opinion and it is final . Third- and this one is important- you are the most thoughtful, caring, kind, and gentle person I have ever had the absolute pleasure to share a room with, let alone sleep with. I decided you’re what I wanted a long time ago. No one else has ever told me to take a nap before” she giggled, pausing to hold his face between her hands, “You don’t need to be anything other than you for me to be happy.”
She wiped a tear from his cheek with her knuckles, a fond smile playing on her lips as she drew him in, hugging him tightly so his head rested on her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed like he was scared she might disappear if he didn’t hold her tight enough.
“Thank you,” He whispered.
“You’re welcome,” Triss whispered back, trailing her nails over his scalp and through his soft hair, “Anytime you need a reminder you tell me. Deal?”
Eskel sniffed and pulled himself back together, leaning back to give Triss a quick kiss, “Deal.”
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aio-rya · 3 years
Text
"Give me a sign" — Leona x reader
One shot requested by: Anon
『Btw anon, I'm sorry I didn't have the Anon mode on until like two days ago.』
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Days kept going on as [y/n] started being fond of everyone they met at NRC, specially the Braincell Squad along Epel, Jack and yeah, Sebek, who sometimes joined them too. Most of the time, when they were not causing trouble at their dorms, they gathered at Ramshackle for "studying". Though there was one day a week [y/n] used to sneak out, following Epel around to his Magift practice.
The last time they saw a game was when they were hit conveniently by the disc thanks to Grimm's movements, but [y/n] was not really interested on the game, oh no —those getaways were to see someone. Indeed, the same person why they lurked around Savanaclaw with Jack by the end of the day. And everything was fine until...
"What the hell are you doing here, herbivore?" the lion man asked behind them. [Y/n] froze right there, crouched behind one of the seats of the bleachers.
Did I forget telling that [Y/n] felt Leona doesn't like them? Well, now you know.
"I... Epel" they answered nervously and without context, putting a strand of their [h/c] hair behind their ear. "He forgot his water bottle and..."
"Tsk. Whatever you are doing here, do it fast and go away" he interrupted, rolling his eyes and passing by them as if that never happened.
And this was the day to day of [y/n] and Leona whenever they got to see each other. The matter was that he, Leona Kingscholar himself, felt sort of intimidated by the little human —why? He didn't know. It was sort of an allergic reaction or something, he felt his heart beat harder, his cheeks burning hot like feber, sort of a knot on his stomach and words flew away from his head.
"Hey, Kingscholar! I... Brought you these" [y/n] said as they extended him two special meat sandwiches from the cafeteria.
Leona turned around on his napping spot, looking at the human, then at the food and then, he turned around again, giving his back to the little one, who still held the sandwiches towards him.
"I Don't need them..." the lion said, and dismissed them with a movement of his hand, "Ruggie has already brought me something".
"I... I See" the human said, withdrawing his hand. "Then... You're gone. Again" they sighed while realising Leona's breath got a slower pace, he was asleep. There was nothing to do but leave; said and done.
Lucky was the big cat that they've already left when his ears twitched on signal that he was not sleeping, his eyes slightly opened, listening to the human voice with a trace of worry left behind. "It couldn't be sadness, or is it?" he told himself, turning to face the glass ceiling of the Botanical Garden with his hands behind his head.
"You really dismissed [y/n]'s food? They even fought with me for that since there were only three of those things left, ya'now?" Ruggie's voice snapped him out of his trance as the hyena threw a packed meat sandwich over his stomach. Then he heard a wrapper being opened as he sat down, looking at his friend at the moment he bite a sandwich —exactly the same like the one he threw at him a few seconds ago.
Ruggie realized about that and stopped, "What?" he asked towards Leona, still munching a piece of sandwich, when the lazy lion lifted a finger pointing directly to the food. "I'm not giving it to you" he stated in a possesive tone, holdingh tighter his food.
"It's not that” the dorm leader growled, “But... You said there were only three left..." Leona mumbled, unwrapping his food and starting to bite it too.
"Oh yeah, [y/n] gave it to me when I passed them back on the front gate of the Garden. They only needed one for his raccoon friend, even though, they got the other one for you” he continued munching while explaining the ruckus they caused on the cafeteria for those limited dishes. "Hey Leona!" Ruggie snapped his fingers in front of him "Are you okay? It's not like you to space out that obviously."
"I think I'm sick" he reflected out loud while making a pitch of his empty wrapper to the rubbish.
"I think you're lazy~ shishishishi"
"Don't go too smart" Leona shot him a wry look and sighed. "I think I'm allergic to that herbivore or something like that."
"What? C'mon, you're not serious" Ruggie sneered. Leona grunted, "Okay then, why do you think that?"
"Because..." He turned away, aware of his blush. "When [y/Ln] is near, my chest aches and I feel as I wanted to cough; also my stomach feels strange, as if I were hungry but also anxious? And there is this thing on my face... I run a fever every time that herbivore is near...."
"Buuuut~"
"But I like its smell. Or its presence" he finished with nothing more than a whisper.
"I see!" the hyena almost shouted, starting the lion, "You love them."
"Another joke like that and you're gone" he stared at Bucchi, angry but ashamed.
"Oh man... I'm just being honest" the blonde shrugged starting to walk away, "do as you wish but be careful. I don't how for how long [y/n] is going to bear you."
"Maybe he was tired", Deuce tried, quietly.
"Told you", Ace seconded him. "He's just like that, you cannot change him and... Have you thought that maybe he just doesn't like you? I mean like... Around him as he do with anyone else?"
"He was nice once" [y/n] tried to bring as an excuse, "After the Blot thing, he was someway nice. But... I did something wrong?"
Jack shook his head, "You should forget him. He's not the one, and I'm sorry about this but Ace is right..."
"Can I record that?" Trappola laughed, trying to open the camera of his phone.
"Shut up" Howl snapped, joining the laugh while hugging the little non-magic human between them.
"I think I can handle it. I mean... Nothing lasts forever and this little scratches heal with time" they tried to smile, eyes teary.
"Hey, we're here!" Epel cheered, "if you need to cry, to talk or you just want to mess around a little, call us!"
"That's why I call you my friends" and finally, the genuine smile appeared, "I'll sleep on it, I swear".
And both of them did: Kingscholar and [y/Ln]. Unfortunately, they reached two very opposite conclusions.
The little herbivore began to let go of their feelings, now they were no longer around Savanaclaw or the Magift training or even on the third years classrooms, they were free. Of course it still hurted whenever someone mentioned Leona, or at the Dorm Leader meetings or even when he was lurking around the cafeteria. Specially the last one was odd of the lion, and everyone around him noticed —even Vil started asking around what in hell happened to him.
"Ah, Ruggie-san" he said with velvety voice.
"Prefect Schoenheit" blonde hyena answered.
"Is Leona okay? He has been... Nicer than usual"
"Ah, you too. In fact, he's not really fine. His heart is about to break" Ruggie said, a bit worried as Vil gasped, not as an act but in genuine surprise, "his herbivore grew tired of him..."
Well, you see... Since [y/n] started getting rid of their unrequited love, Leona accepted it. And now it hurted so bad every time he got to see his herbivore: there was no "H-hey Leona..." or "Hello Kingscholar!" or any kind of cheerful greetings, everything tuned into a cold "Good morning/afternoon, Prefect Kingscholar", "Excuse me, Prefect Kingscholar" —they even stopped bumping into him, no more visits to his napping spot at the Botanical Garden and even when they got to Magift practice, Epel will always arrive alone. The knot in his stomach and the fever on his cheeks turned into a harsh pain on his throat and a burning heat on his eyes.
Meanwhile, Braincell Squad and first years club was proud, their little human finally was free and not depressed by the mistreatment of the Prince.
A couple of months passed until one evening, after clases, [y/n] made their way back to Ramshackle when heard someone sobbing, that scared them since Epel was having a hard time. By following the noise, they bumped into Leona and immediately tried to avoid him, but the lazy lion was not that slow; he walked quickly and grabbed their shoulders.
"Please, stop avoiding me" he said, not bothering on hiding the trembling of his voice.
"I... I am not" they said slowly, "Pref--"
"Don't" he grunted painfully, "Come back to call me Leona with that lively loud voice. Wake me up from my naps again, stare at me in the hallway so I can stare at you when you look away..." He sobbed again, weakening his grip, about to let his arms fall, "I... I am sorry."
"Why... Why are you apologising?" they asked, turning around to face him.
"Because I treated you so bad, and I... Thought I had an allergic reaction... To you" Leona whispered, [y/n] giggled.
"As far as I know, you cannot be allergic to a human" then they caressed one of Leona's braids, he stared at their [e/c] eyes, a pale gleam reflected on them. "It's fine, don't worry. We can still be friends".
He shook his head and caught them between his arms.
"I have denied it for too long. You deserve more, I was so mean, but I don't want to be just a friend" he explained tenderly, burying his nose on their hair, aspiring its sweet perfume.
"Leona, I'm not sure--"
"Just give me a sign..."
Silence. They just stayed like that, holding each other, [y/n] biting his bottom lip as Leona rubbed their back. When he finally was ready, understanding the situation and letting go of them, he got interrupted by a hold on his collar.
Then, a soft, sweet and warm pair of lips slammed against his.
It was a kiss full of fear and sadness that slowly turned into a gentle one. Full of untold feelings that tangled and finally were silently confessed.
"Is this enough?" the human asked, caressing his lover's cheek.
"It is more than enough... My loved herbivore".
—・ Φ・—
I melted with Leona's soft side, I don't know where I got the inspiration but I felt this took too long. Hope you like it too!
«Please do not repost or translate without permission»
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heyheyloki · 4 years
Text
Dark Star
Summary: The prince of the Clover Kingdom and Yami speak on important matters.
Yami Sukehiro x M!Reader
Word Count: 2701
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The Clover Kingdom. A place were magic ran through the streets from the royal kingdom to the forbidden realm. Under the rule of the Wizard King, Julius Novochrono, peaceful times were possible. During those peaceful times made an unexpected miracle occur, the first prince of the Clover Kingdom was born. He was born with exceptional magic power, much like his father, as well as inheriting his father’s kind and gentle nature. As well as an extreme fondness for magic.
There was no easy way of saying that a lot was expected of him. Both from his own kingdom that he would one day rule, and those of his Magic Knights that his father commanded. Each of the captains had high expectations for him, as well as deep respect for the young man that would command them one day. Though, there was one captain didn’t care much for that. Captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro. 
It was a shock to you at first when you were old enough to understand your title, your status. You tried way too hard to try to make Yami respect you on the level the other captains do. It was entertaining to your father for a while, and just overtime it became a normal thing. Yami would always be calling you stupid nicknames, beat down on you for the smallest things like height or lack of muscle, but the one thing that got under your skin was the way he effortlessly able to disrespect you in front of other royals. It was one thing when it was just in front of your father, but another to do it with high standing royals around. 
You were going to be the Wizard King one day. With your skill, power, influence, and trust within the people, no one doubted that you would be next in line. They were excited of course, you were Julius’s son, they believed you would accomplish what your father had and then some. Though, when you were around the captain of the Black Bulls, some second-thoughts grew. Simply, they thought of you still a mere child, despite you reaching the age of twenty, they still saw some childish antics within you shine disgracefully with Yami. 
For this reason alone, you called Yami down to the royal capital. You knew you needed to get some things straight with him, even if you had to detach yourself from the budding joy you found within his teasing. He was the only one that made you feel like you could forget your title, sure, but you knew that if it kept up it could cost you more then what you were willing to lose.
As you were dealing with paperwork in your office, a transmission spell appeared in front of you with Marx’s face clear to see. You gazed up from the endless white sheets filled with headache inducing black ink, happy just to have a new sight in front of you. 
“What’s wrong, Marx?” You asked with a soft smile. You were always fond of your father’s handler. He was kind, and always tried to put your father in his place when it came to his duties about being the Wizard King. In truth, he was like family to you in way. 
“Sir, the captain of the Black Bulls has just arrived.” He explained with a deadpanned expression. You knew he wasn’t a fan whenever Yami came to the capital, after all, he tends to poke fun at Marx’s haircut.
“Thank you,” you hummed out. “I’ll be right there.”
You watched as Marx nodded in conformation before ending the call, his magic dying in turn. When you stood up from your desk, you paused. Your hands laid flat against your wooden desk, chest falling as you took in careful breaths to calm your racing heart that pounded with anticipation, anxiety, and excitement all in one. Once you knew you had a grip on your emotions, locking them away in a steel prison, you patted down on your clothes to rid any dishevelment before traveling the halls that led outside. 
Your footsteps were loud in your ears throughout the entire way, though, that didn’t stop you from rising your head and keeping your eyes forward. When you reached the outside of the palace, you paused and locked your eyes on the man before you. He was as disorganized and without a care in the world. Normally, all magic knights have some sorta of uniform throughout their entire squad. Yami was different. He allowed his squad to wear whatever they pleased, as long as they had on the Black Bull’s robe. He was absolutely no exception to this. All he had on was a simple white tank top that showed off his wide, muscular shoulders and black pants. 
You gulped hard, taking in a final breath as you watched him approach you. The cigarette that hung in his mouth was taken between his fingers, the white smoke leaving his mouth and nose before disappearing into the air. 
“Whatcha summon me for, princey? I was planning on playing the gentleman’s game of chance, yanno.” Yami asked, his tone unwavering in the ears of the prince. 
“You could do well to show his highness at least some respect.” Marx uttered out at the captain.
“Shut it, Mushroom-head. Princey and I are about to have a conversation.” Yami calmly said. “I bet Julius needs some supervising, why don’t you go and leave us be?”
Marx was held his tongue reluctantly in your presence. His eyes darted towards yours, asking if you wished him to leave. You stared at him for a moment before nodding your head, leaving Yami and you outside of the palace. 
“Let’s take a walk.” You said calmly, your voice smooth and down to its natural pitch. You began to walk forward, your feet guiding you past Yami’s body without any other words.
When you past him, it was like as if the air had turned unbelievably cold against his skin. It was an odd sensation, and one he was frankly not fond of. His charcoal hues made sure to never let you leave his line of sight, watching as your back faced him in such a distant manner that left a sour taste across his tongue. In that moment, he took a puff of his cigarette, his mind numbing as he stopped his thoughts from wondering.
“Whatever you say,” he muttered under his breath before his own body started to catch up to your own. 
You both walked into the common realm side by side in mild conversation. You greeted your people with a gentle smile and calm demeanor, some afraid to approach you with Yami at your side. But, what got away from you was the small glares he was making at people who tried to approach you. It wasn’t long after when both of you came to a food stall and grabbed something to eat, the chance to talk to one another in peace finally came around.
“What you wanna talk about anyway?” Yami asked. “You better not have dragged me out here for nothing. I’ve a very busy guy, yanno.”
You rolled your eyes. “Busy doing what? Gambling?”
“Ouch, and here I thought you knew me better, Princey.” Yami chuckled, his shoulder bumping into yours in a playful manner.
You sighed, patting your shoulder to numb the rushing heat that came from that single area. After a moment of silence, you took in a deep breath and said, “What I requested and frankly, command you to do, if not that complicated.”
“Oh? And what would that be?” Yami asked with a coy grin across his lips, his eyes shining with something hopefully that caused butterflies to rumble within your stomach.
You composed yourself once more. You were the prince of the Clover Kingdom. You were a prince, for God’s sake. One man, a man that was older and a long time friend should not be able to effect someone like you like this. Then again, he was. And it was seriously starting to get under your skin.
“The other royals think little of me.” You said. Yami’s smirk quickly dying. “They believe me to be a mere child, even if I am an adult, they see me like an irresponsible child that is not fit to run the kingdom.”
“How come? You do something to piss them off?” He asked curiously.
“Not exactly.” You hummed. Your voice growing uncomfortably cold when you hissed out, “It’s because of you.”
“Me?” Yami questioned with widened eyes.
You nodded. “They think my being around you is causing me to become influenced by the Black Bull’s rough nature. I’m not asking much. All I request of you is to act professional around me when it comes to outings in public. Stop your advances.”
Yami remained quiet. The only sounds you were able to hear were the faint sound of your people chattering with one another over the deafening loud intake of nicotine from Yami. His breath louder than any yell that Asta has made in your presence.
Then, he moved. You thought he would leave and just follow your orders. You prayed, hoped even that he would just obey you and walk away. Save you the heartache of standing next to him and not be yourself with the only one you could truly be the real you around. Not some prince. Not the next leader of the Clover Kingdom. Just, you.
However, that was just wishful thinking. It felt like a volcano was suddenly woken up within you when you felt his large, muscular hand stand across your lower back. It was like as if he didn’t have his dark magic anymore, but flame instead, causing his fingertips to have the smallest flames upon them. It was slower than normal, at least in your mind it felt like that before he hooked his fingers roughly into your side and tugged you into him.
A small grunt came from your chest when you felt your body and his connect. The cold air that was taunting both of your bodies completely gone, now, only warmth enveloped you. Though, it wasn’t comforting. It was hot, steamy, and frankly uncomfortable. You knew it was your nerves that ruined the experience, but in a way you knew this wouldn’t be as calming as you would have liked. Overtime though, you suspected it would get to that stage.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” he paused. His breath low and rough against your ear, “but the last time I checked, I don’t take orders from you.”
You felt your hues widen for a split moment, your throat downing a large gulp that made you even more nervous. You knew Yami liked to have his fun, to flirt and make mild advances from time to time. And yeah, perhaps it made you eventually fall for the boorish man, but he had never escalated to this much contact before. It felt weirdly good, though, you did suspect yourself of turning into puffy before the man that grabbed you when he started to slowly lower his large hand. Gripping into your clothes harder with every passing second.
You weren’t about to sit around and let him do whatever he pleased. Especially if it met he gained the upper hand in the situation.
Quickly, you swallowed your nerves and gazed up at the man. For a moment, the look in his eyes startled you to the point of goosebumps across your royal skin. It was as if hundreds of emotions piled onto one another to create the perfect gaze that was both seductive and terrifying. Still, in all your years of living, you had never backed down from a fight.
You did your best to hide your immediate reaction and quickly change it into a cocky, yet frustrated expression that painted on your face. You couldn’t help but still feel that unease pit that rested in your stomach, though. You thought, maybe even for a second, that he knew.
“I’m just asking a simple request.” You stated. “One day, when you do order to me, I will get you back for this, Yami.”
Yami kept his gaze onto you, a low hum rumbling from deep within his chest before gripping a bit rougher around your waist. Your bodies basically having no room to breathe on their own.
“It’s not that simple.” He stated. “Who cares what those damn nobles say anyway? Aren’t you the prince of the Clover Kingdom? I thought you were the one that gets to decide what you do and don’t.”
“Well, I do require the trust of my people and that does tend to include ‘damn nobles’. All I ask is to respect me as you would my father when others are around.” You explained.
“Yeah, well,” Yami started out saying. His eyes flickering for a moment away from your eyes. “That ain’t gonna happen.”
“And why’s that? I am your prince, yanno.” You asked, a questionable look in your eyes. It was one thing for Yami to tease you, but this was getting ridiculous. He was supposed to respect you as a prince. He did it with your father, and he knew him from a young age. So, what was so different?
“Well, there is one reason.” Yami stated with a sly grin. 
You cocked your head to the side, your breath hitching at the swift moment your eyes got a hold of. Yami, without any hesitation, grabbed his Black Bulls rob from his body and let it fall upon your head, effectively hiding your face from any on lookers. Yami, in that moment, had you all to himself. And he took it without a second thought.
Before your lips could form out words, you felt a pair lock onto yours. They were soft, sweet and yet the faintest sensation of cigarette smoke caused those lips to tingle more than normal. 
You hesitated for a moment. Everything need to calm down in your mind before you even tried to kiss him back, let alone take the lead. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want this, it was just so unexpected. The man that you admired, maybe even loved, had actual made a move that you never even dreamed of doing. You just didn’t have the time. As the prince, your responsibilities got in the way of doing anything that you would have liked to do. So, you’ve never kissed anyone either.
Yami knew this. He practically knew everything about you, because of that, he didn’t move. Though, after a moment or two, he began to lead. His lips moved slowly, showing that he wasn’t in a rush. You appreciated that. 
He began to follow his lead, syncing his movements with yours for the best feeling. It didn’t take a second longer after to feel the way your heart beat. It was like a bullet train, almost going so fast and so hard to break from your ribcage and collide with Yami’s heart. There was something about it that was romantic, exciting yet on the other side of the coin it was scary. Scary solely because you didn’t notice how hard you had fallen for the Black Bulls’s captain until he pressed his lips to yours. 
When he pulled away, it didn’t feel real. The tingly sensation trailed away from your lips and down your entire spine, a shiver taking over your body. It was a second or two after you fluttered your eyes, hoping that he would continue and never stop until you both drew your last breath. When you did open to look at him thought, that prideful yet loving gaze Yami gave to you was unmistakable.
“I’m not going to follow your orders.” Yami stated lowly, his voice so husky and close to your sense of hearing that made your feet suddenly shift under you. 
You nodded, understanding why. It wasn’t for lack of respect. He had that for you and more, maybe even more for you than your father. It wasn’t that at all. Instead, he just couldn’t bear the thought of not being himself around you. He didn’t want to fake your relationship, no matter what it was, and no matter for how long. Once again, this one damn guy had done something unpredictable. One thing that allowed to throw your title away and just be yourself.
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mxchowind · 3 years
Text
Words Unspoken
Xiao x reader
Warnings: angst/fluff???
This is my second fic! I decided to go with xiao because he really appeals to me as of late and so baby too- ;; i changed up the reason to why he’s fond of almond tofu too for the content- anyways i hope i didnt write him too ooc- if i did, i apologise deeply,, enjoy!
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He had known. 
Mortals were nothing but lights that faded away with the time’s span. He knew, of course. The ‘Mighty’ and ‘Illuminated’ Guardian Yaksha, names given to him that don’t mean a mere mora.
To him, you meant the most. Though the man would never admit himself, or did he?
Time erased pain.
But never had it healed his scars. What a lie it has been. 
Xiao hid, from all that seeked. From all of the memories of you. To think, he was such a dense, foolish idiot- an idiot who loved you. And still do, he’d like to believe. 
-
Of course- out of all, tonight’s wind blows gently. He dislikes it, the tranquillity all resembles you too much. The gentle-living spirit you were- once. Upon his very wish Xiao finds himself asking, begging for you to come back.
But a replacement? He never asked.
Lumine’s arrival sure had people in favour, and people starts to dot and comment on how similar you and her are. Both spirits of freedom and love, supposedly that is said. He didn’t like that.
You were, and still are special, even if that no longer lingered in anyone else.
The ever so radiant smile of yours could warm any cold heart up, that, he has experienced first-hand. A dangerous adepti, they say? None of that was him in your mind. The time you two had spent together, under countless stars beneath the vast expand of skies, were always cherished by both. His eyes soften at the very thought of you- though sorrows come right after. 
Lumine is a different case, however.
All the times she tried to please him to get information- it’s different. The aura she gives off is nothing subtle as yours, and warm too. Your scent is much more pleasant to him, or perhaps just the thought of you brings a slight smile to his stone-cold face. Xiao could go on and on about you to anyone, really, but he won’t.
It pains him to think back to that eventful night-
When all was lost.
-
You had lived long enough to withstand- let alone, battles. But this one was quite the fate-changer. The one that left you in blood and tears, not your own but his. That desperate look on his delicate face- by Archons, Xiao has such pretty features you’d wonder he should like to be working in a tavern for the girls. 
All jokes aside, regret fuelled.
Of course, once again you decided to leave his field of vision, dealing with the terror of a creature on your own. Not that he disapproves, you were outright a swordswoman, gifted with the blessings of Anemo, like his own. Dealing with such small amounts wouldn’t be an issue normally, as you often received commissions. Only if you had known..
..when the reinforcements came.
-
‘‘Hey!! Are you even paying attention??’’
The small pixie screams in his ears, wincing in pain from the high-pitched voice she possesses. Expression stonic, the ravenette decides to ignore her fully. What was that? Flashbacks of what seemed to be thousands of years ago-
Then Xiao suddenly realises. It was when he lost you. 
Pain, pain, pain. Kill them, kill everyone.
Thoughts racing through his mind- it takes a while, and enormous strength to resist, before his eyes land on her. Lumine. 
‘‘What do you want? I don’t have time to spare for foreign travellers.’’ 
As cold as he blurts those words out, he means it. No, he cannot withstand the sight of them for any longer- the memories flooding back to his mind, no matter how much he tries to push away. It hurts, he wants someone to cling onto, and he knows, the only one to do it would be you.
‘‘We’re not looking for trouble! The boss lady said you know something about what is happening recently- we brought this!’’ Lumine chirps, handing him the freshly made Almond Tofu.
No, please. No. 
-
It was a breezy afternoon, the wind blowing past your hair gently, directing your way to him. Recently you discovered this new recipe- and couldn’t wait for him to try it out. As you hummed a tune, ever so lively, filled with life, Xiao waited for you patiently. You two were often sighted together on the top of Wangshu Inn, and you were said to be the only one who would make the Adepti smile, even if it was a little. It was true, your smile could brighten anyone’s day up, even the dangerous man. 
‘‘Xiao! Look!’’
‘‘Calm yourself first.’’
You gave an apologetic smile, before the brand new dish got shoved into his face. At first, he looked away- what new recipe might you have stirred this time? But the scent of said food filled his mind as you picked up the spoon, scooping some.
‘‘Have a try!’’
‘‘.. I have hands, too.’’
In all reality, he was embarrassed. Without a further thought he picked up from where you left off, and swallowed the tofu whole. It tasted- gentle. Almost as if you poured your heart into making such a dish. Its almond flavoured taste lingered on his tongue for a while more, before eagerly scooping another spoonful. 
You smiled. His facade was worn off, and Xiao right then was just Xiao. His duties forgotten, his raging heart calmed, and he was just Xiao, someone who longed for more and more time to be with you, and to have more of this delicious plate too. 
Your laugh echoed in his mind.
That was when he chose Almond Tofu over every other dish. It was because of you. Only if time allowed you two to dance in everlasting joy. 
It didn’t.
-
‘‘Stop spacing out!!!!’’
This annoying pest, the ravenette curses without fear. As Xiao turns his gaze finally back on track, he realises that you’ve been on his mind more than ever today. Why is that? Is it because he can’t stand people comparing you with Lumine- 
Never. You can never be compared with her. You’re- far more- dear.
‘‘So, Xiao, what would you do about this situation right now? The Moon Carver sent me.’’
Instead of being content to help, he turns his eyes away. 
‘‘I am no longer interested in being in contact with mortals. Go.’’
Any other day Xiao would give a gratified reply, but not today. You’re simply occupying his mind too much, perhaps this is it. He still wants to remember- 
Go away. Go away. Please.
Stop, stop it. Stop coming back. 
‘‘Geez, what a let-down!! Let’s go for now, Lumine,’’ At least that little thing knows what not. They took their leave in silence,
Just like you did. 
-
It rained.
It rained, as if the whole world cried. 
With blurred vision, monsters easily took you down no matter how much effort was made to struggle. That, he knows.
He wasn’t strong enough to protect you. He failed. 
Let alone, you were the last person he wanted to lose. 
Blood, blood, blood.
Blood everywhere. Blood coated you. Recalling, when Xiao turned around to see such a sight- his eyes widened in shock-
Don’t leave, please.
At least not yet, not when he didn’t make clear of his feelings-
But time was not his to command. 
His eyes, wet and stained with rain or tears, you do not know. The pain pierced through you like arrows, it hurts, but none is able to save you. The gash is too big, and deep too.
His hands. The ravenette’s hands are so gentle even under the harsh gloves. Carefully, he lifted you up from the ground, and it was him who spoke first. 
‘‘Don’t go, it’s a command.’’
You chuckled lightly before the voice faded into weak whimpers. His own voice was shaking, it pulled your heartstrings. 
‘‘You- you’re not even smiling, Xiao. Come on, at least give me a smile- whether it’s the last time i would see it..’’
How could he decline such a request?
Smiling was harder than supposed. 
Gathering all that was left in him- a smile formed. It was genuine. Something no one but you had seen- that was enough for you. To be the luckiest person to see his smile. It hurts. You wanted to see more, maybe you two would have a future together, and smile, always, then he could learn how to make Almond Tofu and take care of himself and-
Too much to wish for.
‘‘Xiao-’’
He silenced you. With his lips.
Had he known it was the first, and the last, you indulged yourself fully, sinking deeper into the sweet, airy kiss. The taste of metallic was awful, but what was even more- you didn’t know if he was crying, or just the rain.
‘‘You know.. I love you, Xiao.’’
So that was the word. 
Love. 
To think, how foolish he was- in love with a mortal. 
But he was, and nothing could change that. He loved you.
‘‘Don’t go, then. Don’t go.’’
His voice laced with desperation- he begged to the Archons, to someone, to save you. No one would, he knew. Before he knew, you went, quietly. 
You were gone.
Rage filled him. Putting on the mask he could feel power surging through every part of him- destruction. 
Kill, kill, kill.
The rest of the monsters advanced, but only ended in a bloodbath as he unleashed himself. That village was never heard of again in history. 
Throwing the mask away, Xiao leaned down, back to you.
‘‘I love you too, [Y/n].’’
151 notes · View notes
lovelyirony · 4 years
Note
Hi! “If I fail, I’ll fall apart/Maybe it is all a test/because I feel like I’m the worst / so I always act like I’m the best” -Oh No! This is one of my favorite lyrics ever, and I'd really like to see what you bring out of it :) You're amazing, ily! 💞
what if maria had more of an effect on tony’s upbringing than most? howard’s still a dick but make it funny
Tony has known he was probably not the best human on earth ever since he was five and his dad made a bigger deal out of a dead man’s birthday than his own. 
At age five, you don’t really know a lot about the world yet. There were about two things that Tony didn’t know that he wishes he did know: 
1.) The word “fuck.” It would have helped with a lot of his situations. 
2.) The concept of jealousy. He probably could have gone to a child therapist or some shit, he’s not sure if those even existed back then, or if his parents would have even let him go. 
(After all, he’s supposed to be their perfect little boy, just the right amount of precocious and the other amount being something like genius or respectability.) 
It is actually his mother who takes the reins on his life. Howard has effect, he has huge effects. 
Maria is a socialite who absolutely refuses to let her son succumb to Howard’s devil-may-care attitude that he’s so infamous for. Her son is going to be well-mannered, respectable, and know exactly how to treat a lady of high social standing. 
This involves training at a young age. Six would be a fine age. 
It’s not Howard who sends him to boarding schools, it’s Maria. She ensures that he goes to the finest schools available, most abroad in Europe. She trains him out of the American accent, into something a bit more refined. 
He spends summers learning different languages and different skills. He learns how to fence by the time he’s ten, and becomes quite proficient at it. 
She quizzes him on established families, up-and-coming families, and never keeps him far from her sight. 
Anthony Stark is not going to be a wild-child, she decides. 
-
Anthony isn’t, for the most part. Sure, he usually stays up past what is acceptable for the night to work on some mechanic stuff and uses the word “damn” a bit too much for his mother’s liking, but that’s the reason make-up and apologies were invented. 
He follows rules and is known to smile like his mother and enjoy listening to quartets play out in the open air during the summer months. He travels to Europe and participates in various activities and is the talk of many socialites who eagerly await his arrival. 
He’s a portrait, holding still for all’s approval, and he’s not quite sure how to move. 
That’s troublesome, he thinks. 
The problem is this: Anthony Stark doesn’t have any interests outside what is required. He loves working on inventions, and they are necessary for the company to survive, but his father hates any robotic invention he pushes for, and mother thinks that if he tells people he’s rather fond of AC/DC then he’s a plague to society and will be shunned. 
(He doesn’t say it to her face but they haven’t shunned Sunset yet, and she’s a whole world of problems, so rock music is the least of their problems.) 
There is one thing that he pushes for: university in the United States. He’s been traveling to Europe since he was a child, and he honestly needs to do something for himself. 
Maria is not pleased. 
“So after I sacrifice so much for you, this is how you repay me?” she asks him over dinner. 
He places his fork to the correct side. 
“Yes. This is how I am repaying you. By getting a perfectly respectable college degree from a critically-acclaimed university that anyone would be lucky to attend. Not to mention it might reflect badly on Stark Industries if I don’t go to an American college. Do I not trust American institutions to run an American business?” 
“You shouldn’t.” 
Anthony laughs. 
“Mother, they cannot teach me anything that Europe can’t. Let me go to college in the United States. Please.” 
“No.” 
It takes Howard to convince her, and a.) Howard doesn’t even like Anthony that much, and b.) he also doesn’t like his wife that much. 
“He’s going to a damned college here, Maria. We don’t need him to go to any more of that fancy bullshit you call school over there.” 
“Fancy bullshit, Howard?! Bullshit?! You mean what has gotten him this far in life and will make him a better man of social standing than you?” 
“My god, is social standing all that matters to you? What are your little friends going to do, choke on their silver spoons when they find out that your son is going to an American college?” 
Jarvis also convinces her. 
“It will be easier to monitor his progress from a shorter distance,” he advises. “And you can visit frequently.” 
Anthony gives him a very dirty look. Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to mention that. 
Oops. 
-
But, Anthony gets his way. He’s going to MIT, and he has a roommate. 
(Okay, so mother doesn’t know that. But he supposes she will if she ever visits. Or maybe not considering if Tony can successfully convince his roommate to “disappear” for at least a day.) 
-
Rhodey does not give a singular shit about high society anything or anyone. Anthony Stark is a name he registers, but doesn’t recognize. 
“Anthony’s a mouthful,” he says a week into their cohabitation. “You have a nickname or something?” 
“Ah...no? I mean, not yet,” Anthony says. 
“How do you feel about Tony?” 
“I...I suppose that that is alright.” 
“Are you from Europe?” 
“No, from New York.” 
“Well holy shit, you sure as fuck don’t sound like it.” 
Anthony--well, Tony now--learns quite a bit about American schooling and what he’s actually supposed to be doing to pass off as normal. 
Rhodey (yeah he got a nickname that ended in ‘y’ too, Tony said he wouldn’t be the only one) takes him to the thrift store and tells him to pick out some clothes. 
“...there’s a shirt that’s advertising a restaurant from Montana.” 
“And? Does it look hilarious?” 
“Is that the point of this?” 
“Fashion is supposed to make you like what you’re wearing or like yourself. I swear if you say that those boring black suits make you feel better about yourself, I will be dragging you to any therapist that will take us for at least five dollars.” 
“Five dollars?” 
“Maybe less if I can negotiate.” 
“Hey!” 
Tony learns how to have fun. He loves it. 
Rhodey makes him go to record stores and find the bargain bin, and they play the warped records and laugh as voices go up and down in pitch. Tony blasts Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden until the RA begs him to go to bed and Rhodey throws all of his pillows off of his bed. 
In return, Tony teaches Rhodey how to read other’s facial expressions, dress for any occasion and be the best-looking there, as well as avoiding any sort of conflict by bringing up past embarrassments. 
“Are you serious about the color of my shoe affecting my social standing?” Rhodey asks, trying to shove his foot into a shoe that was a brown color that Tony had described as a “golden mahogany.” 
“Yes, I’m dead serious.” 
“No fucking wonder everyone says eat the rich all of you are so fucking pretentious. It’s brown, Tony.” 
“Tell that to any high society woman over fifty.” 
“I will.” 
As it turns out, he ends up doing it much sooner than anticipated. 
Tony’s parents come to visit. 
They call him Anthony. Which is gross. Rhodey hasn’t used the name “Anthony” in about six months. 
“I wasn’t aware that you were his roommate,” his mother says. 
“Well, here I am,” Rhodey says. “Name’s also on the information they sent out to the parents about the living situations.” 
Tony tenses as his parents brush off the obvious comment on how little they actually know about his situation and move right into the room. 
Maria stops at the huge poster of a rock band. 
“I assume that this is...James’?” 
“No,” he says timidly. “It’s...it’s mine. Their use of movement on the guitar strings-” 
“Take it down,” Maria demands. “It’s unsightly.” 
“Oh give the kid a break,” Howard says tiredly. “For once he’s not listening to you talk about the merits of paisley prints.” 
“I’m training our son for a more successful life than yours,” Maria hisses. “Of course, you’d have to stay away from your friend Jack to understand that.” 
“Rhodey, leave,” Tony says. “Trust me, it gets messier from here.” 
He does think about it. How easy it would be to walk out and check in with a couple of his other friends and talk about how crazy Tony’s parents are. How he could check back in near dinner time and then Tony could tell him all about how terribly it went. 
But Tony already looks terrible, and he’s doing that weird thing with his hands where he wrings them and then remembers he’s not supposed to wring them and makes it worse. 
“No,” Rhodey says. “I am staying until the bitter end. Who knows? Maybe I can give your mom a heart attack when I ask her the difference between kelly and forest green.” 
Tony grins. 
“You can leave any time, it’s about to get...interesting.” 
Tony’s family is quite dysfunctional. They can put on a good front in public, for what it’s worth. 
Howard is impressed that Rhodey’s planning on going into the Air Force and then talks about Captain America for a lot of the dinner. Rhodey is very uncomfortable and then asks about business and Maria rolls her eyes and orders another glass of wine. 
After Howard finishes up talking about some contract and making vague threats against businesses that Rhodey thinks might actually be in trouble, it’s Maria’s turn. 
“So, Rhodey, where is your family from?” 
“We live in the Boston area,” Rhodey answers. 
“And what do your parents do?” 
“Dad works as a consultant for a local construction company, and my mom works as a high school history teacher. They both like their jobs.” 
“Hm,” Maria remarks, and it’s so light and casual and yet so cutting. Tony can see how Rhodey squirms, and he can’t just let it stand. 
It’s one thing for Maria to cut her own son down until he’s nothing. Still fucked up, but Tony can handle it. He’s been handling it for years. 
“Rhodey, how did your mom come to want to know she liked teaching?” Tony asks. “That sounds like it could be really hard to figure out.” 
“Oh, well it all started when she was in high school and wanted to change how one of her teachers treated students. It was a really inspiring moment for her.” 
“That sounds really cool,” Tony says. “What does she like most about her job?” 
“Probably the kids,” Rhodey says. 
The conversation carries on about Rhodey’s family until their dinner arrives and his mother manages to cut in with more questions. 
“So, what else does your mother do?” 
“She volunteers at the local food kitchen and helps some of the younger kids at the after-school program,” Rhodey answers. “She also makes a mean Thanksgiving turkey.” 
“Would you look at that,” Tony says. “Mrs. Rhodes sounds like a fine cook, I wish I could say the same for you, mother.” 
“Oh?” 
Howard actually laughs at that as he signs for the bill. 
“The kid is right, Maria. At some points I think your kitchen is only used for decoration.” 
“Oh, and you know how to cook, Mr. Stark?” Maria asks, raising her eyebrows. “I’d love to see you make anything other than coffee.” 
“I’ll make toast.” 
Rhodey laughs, and so does Tony. 
“Ready to go?” Tony asks, and part of it is a way to get away from an isolated conversation, and part of it is to make his parents leave for their hotel room sooner. 
“Tony, I want to have a talk with you before we retire for the night,” Maria says, and Tony tenses up. 
Rhodey can’t protect him from that, and he squeezes Tony’s hand as they walk behind his parents. 
“It’ll be okay,” he whispers. 
“Maybe,” Tony says. “Maybe.” 
Rhodey goes into their building, and Howard waits in the car. He nods to Tony on his way out. 
“You’ve...changed,” mother says. 
“Well, that’s how humanity goes,” Tony says dryly, looking anywhere but her eyes. 
“Rock music? These snappish remarks towards your own mother? I don’t know if this college was such a good idea.” 
“It is,” Tony says. “I just...learned new things and incorporated it into my life. Nothing the matter with that.” 
“Nothing wrong with that?” Maria reiterates, surprised look on her face. “Rock music is for other people, you know things that others don’t know! You can perform violin and piano, you don’t have to listen to the personal manifestation of a headache!” 
“And if I like that headache?!” Tony asks. “If I like something that’s outside of what you approve, why so angry about it? Is it because you finally can’t control every single aspect about my identity? Is it because I’m not like your perfect little toy that you can make walk and talk how you like?” 
“You know it’s not that.” 
“Isn’t it?” Tony asks. “Because you want me to change every single interest that I’ve found I like by myself. I bet you want me to listen to Bach for fun.” 
“I do not want you to change from who you are,” Maria says. “You have eaten at the finest restaurants in the world and now you brag about making something called ramen in a microwave. A microwave?!” 
“A surprising amount of families in America have them,” Tony says. “And I’m a college student! I’m supposed to eat crappy food and then laugh about it in twenty years!” 
Maria turns red, and her lips screw up into a tight line. 
“I don’t think you should be here,” Maria says. “You’re forgetting your place. Your roommate is...” 
“My roommate is what,” Tony starts, glaring at her. “My roommate is what, mother? You want to honestly finish that sentence?” 
“He’s not good enough!” she yells at him. “You are a Stark!” 
Tony stares at her for a moment. And then another moment. 
“Leave,” he says. “Get the hell out of here.” 
“You don’t tell me-” 
“I do,” Tony says, using his full height to his advantage. “You can tell me how many times I’ve fucked up as many times as you want, but you never talk about James that way ever again.” 
He twists on his heel, forcefully opening the door to the dormitory and not once looking back. 
Rhodey finds Tony back in his room when he gets back from getting ready for the night, and Tony is clutching a pillow and laying face down on the bed. 
“You know, you’ll have to turn over eventually to get some fresh air.” 
“Leave me to die, Rhodey. Oh my god.” 
“That bad?” 
“That bad. She’s probably going to try and put me in a prestigious college or some shit.” 
“Oof. Wanna fake your death and run away?” 
“Please.” 
“Well, too bad. I have a test next week, and you need to do your poetry notes.” 
“But poetry sucks.” 
“It only sucks because you don’t like modern poetry, suck it up and pull it out of your ass or something.” 
“Ugh, fine.” 
Maria is trying very hard to get her son away from MIT and towards a fancy school in Europe. She doesn’t even care where, just away from his roommate and his classic rock posters and the dormitory. Anthony needs an environment where he can focus on networking, meeting more people. 
Howard says no. 
He can’t even bother to remember her son’s birthday, and he says “no.” 
“We need Anthony to go to an American school, and nothing is better besides maybe Cal Tech, and he’ll have to finish another year of college and Hammer Industries can use that as a sign of an unsteady heir.” 
“Well then get rid of his roommate.” 
“I’m not doing that, you’re asking for a PR death sentence.” 
“He’s a bad influence.” 
“No he’s not,” Howard says tiredly. “The kid is finally standing up for himself, and you hate that.” 
“I don’t hate that he can be his own person.” 
“You just wish he were his own person under your specifications,” Howard drawls. “He’s staying at MIT, that’s final.” 
“Hmph.” 
Howard rolls his eyes. 
“Go back to planning whatever charity gala you’re hosting this week, honey. I’m sure things will be fine.” 
Maria doesn’t speak against her husband, just fumes and decides she’s going to try to get Jarvis’ opinion. 
-
Edwin is also a flat no. 
“He will not forgive you if you do this,” he says, pouring her tea and adding in one sugar cube. “He loves his school, he talks about it all the time.” 
“And what, he calls you?” 
Edwin Jarvis realizes he shouldn’t have mentioned this. 
“At times, madam. At times. Will that be all?” 
“...that will be all.” 
Jarvis does bring up a good point. Besides her, of course, he knows Anthony best, even if he does keep calling him Tony. Anthony will grow out of that nickname soon enough. 
She has hope for her boy. He will most likely grow out of this silly little phase in life and finally appreciate her lessons. 
Tony Stark doesn’t. 
Well, he learns her lessons. Can appreciate some of them and how much he hates that he uses them. 
But he learns a far more important lesson from Rhodey, and it shapes everything: 
“You’re your own person, and you’re far better as your own person,” Rhodey says. “I wanted to kick the shit out of you when we first lived together.” 
“You did?” 
“Of course I did!” Rhodey explains, gesturing with his coffee mug and getting yet another stain on the pillow. (Laundry again. Ugh.) “You talked like you were from a movie from the forties, it sucked.” 
“Oh, you mean the transatlantic accent?” 
“It’s pretentious, just ditch it. You’re interesting enough to listen to on your own. I listen to you talk about how much you hate Picasso sculpture, don’t I?” 
“You do,” Tony admits. 
“So then be yourself. Use what your mom taught you sometimes, but otherwise don’t.” 
“You sure?” 
“Of course I’m sure, I’m a fucking genius.” 
Tony snorts. 
“Okay, Mr. ‘I Forgot to Run the Dishes Again.’”
“I already said I was sorry!” 
-
Tony takes Rhodey’s advice into account when he walks into any board room. He wears the worst possible shoes with every single suit, usually uses all sorts of cultural references that fly over the old board members’ heads. 
He does things his way. It’s unconventional, it’s unpredictable, and it earns him a reputation. 
He’s in an interview in a suit and patterned tie (patterned with tiny robots), and the woman is smiling in a plastic way on the other side. 
“Now, a lot of people are saying you’re taking the business world by storm with your unconventional methods and personality. What helped you formulate this, your father?” 
“Oh god no,” Tony says, laughing. “He’d probably curse me to hell and back for even wearing this tie. My mother would drag me back down to hell again for this.” 
“Then who helped you with this?” 
“Rhodey, who else?” Tony asks. “He always gives the best advice, even if I’ll deny that about fifteen minutes later. He really is the reason that I’m who I am today.” 
“Seems like a great guy.” 
“He is. He always is,” Tony says with a grin. “Except, of course, when he doesn’t fold his laundry, that bastard.” 
The interviewer laughs and moves on, but Tony smiles to himself. 
He doesn’t have to be the best, he just has to be Rhodey’s. That’s all that matters. 
164 notes · View notes
yslkook · 3 years
Text
#customer centric (4)
#corporate masterlist summary: you arrive in tokyo and spend a few days catching up and reminiscing. jin comes as well, with a few old friends that you haven’t seen in years. Or, you wander around the city visiting familiar places and go to a club with people you haven’t called friends in years. word count: 8656 warnings: cursing, parental death, discussion of mental health, lots of alcohol a/n: this is part 1/2 of being in tokyo!! this is the top i envisioned for oc lol
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You missed Tokyo, and Tokyo missed you. The city itself brings bittersweet memories to you, memories of your childhood with your dead father and grandmother passing through your mind as if you’re watching a movie.
Your dad had brought you to Tokyo every summer when you were young, until you were about seventeen or eighteen. Tokyo had become more of a second home than a vacation place for you.  You haven’t been here since college, about two years before your dad passed away. But despite that, it feels like home.
You can read, write, and speak Japanese fluently, which is part of the reason why you’ve been such an integral part of the team so far. The company’s sister branch is in Tokyo, and it’s not your first time visiting the branch, or interacting with your team members based in Tokyo.
You’ve wondered often, quite bitterly, if your fluency in Japanese is the only reason you’re even still on the team. Your boss and his boss at least trust you enough to be the responsible party for your team- there’s only one other member of your team here, Sana. But she’s relatively new, so the responsibility has fallen onto you.
That’s alright. You operate well under pressure.
You’re joined by your small knit team, Sana, Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon had managed to finagle with the budget enough that you could arrive a day early, on Friday, and spend the weekend in Tokyo before the workshops began on Monday.
And Seokjin would be flying in on Saturday morning with some of his friends. You’re grateful that at least Jin was coming. Whenever Jin makes these spontaneous types of trips, they’re bound to be eventful. 
Monday and Tuesday will be filled with workshops, proposals and pitch meetings. You made Jin promise that he’d spend time with you during the weekend, so that you could show him some of the treasures you remembered from the city. Despite your many years of friendship, you had never been to Tokyo with Jin and you want to show him some of the places Appa used to take you to.
You’re excited. Even if Jungkook, with his big, sparkling eyes and his natural curiosity is coming along. Seeing him, even though it’s been well over three months that he joined the company, sends you down a dangerous path that isn’t fair to him or to you.
You have to constantly remind yourself that it’s not his fault and you shouldn’t be mean to him. It’s not his fault that your boss and his boss are out for your blood and refuse to give you recognition. But you can’t help but feel like he’s part of the problem that has faced you for the last three years. Part of the same awful old school, conservative mindset that so many of your peers were part of as well.
The leadership at your company needed a drastic overhaul, but you would be the last person to voice those thoughts out loud. Unless it was to Jin. 
You know Jungkook doesn’t deserve your unspoken rage. You can admit that, but you’re not saint enough to channel it somewhere else. You’ve mellowed out considerably from the initial few months, but you could stand to be a little warmer to him.
After all, the way his bunny smile takes up half of his face when he offers it up to someone so worthy… that means nothing to you.
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You arrive in Tokyo with your team at around eleven AM, and you check into your hotel rooms about an hour later. Jungkook and Sana had planned the logistics of the trip, from the hotel to the taxi service to lunch, dinner, and the company sponsored happy hour on Monday and Tuesday. 
Because you were in Tokyo for work, you fully planned on using your company card to the fullest for the next few days. This company could kiss your ass, and you would be more than willing to spend as much as you needed to as a subtle ‘fuck you’. It was your version of flipping off your boss, for when he would have to approve your expense report sheet. 
Namjoon had given you Friday to yourselves, to get acquainted with the hotel room and the area itself. Sana and Jungkook had done a good job with choosing the hotel- it has a wonderful view of the city from the rooftop, and being inside the sophisticated hotel with it’s hues of black and white and pops of color and elegance. This regal building screams opulence and you’re bathing in the luxurious feel of it all.
The diamonds of the chandeliers hanging high above you glint in the dim light of the lobby, bouncing off of the sleek, black piano and adding to the romantic air. Was this a love hotel? You scoff to yourself, keeping your head down as you exit the hotel and head in the direction of your favorite park, the Happo-en Garden. 
When you had told your therapist that you’d be coming to Tokyo for the first time since your father’s death, she had immediately picked up on your hesitation-
“It feels weird to be there without him. Almost like the place doesn’t exist if he doesn’t,” You scoff, wringing your hands together.
“It certainly exists without him. And you do, too,” She says kindly, “Maybe you’ll feel close to him when you go there.”
And she was right, as she usually is. You sit alone at a freshly painted red bench with a box of street snacks, including some of Appa’s favorites. The sunshine glimmers against the still lake in front of you, hues of green fading to orange and red reflecting in the murky water. 
This park was a favorite of Appa’s-
“We’re still in Tokyo, but it feels like we’re so far away. Right, sweetheart?” He asks, dark eyes shining. Appa’s hand tightens around yours and you nod excitedly.
“Yeah! Like we’re close to the princess’s castle!” You gasp.
“That’s right, but the only princess I see here is you,” Appa smiles and you beam at him, all smiles and sunshine.
The memory is from when you were maybe seven or eight years old. Everytime you came to Tokyo with Appa, you always came to this park. Specifically to this area, where Appa claimed that the sun shined on the leaves and the water in a specific way that made everything feel like magic.
You had always scoffed at him, especially as you grew older and the lines around his eyes grew deeper. But you still entertained him. You never saw that magic that Appa claimed to see, but now, you wonder how you could ever not see it.
A breeze ruffles through the trees, whistling as it threads through your hair and running over the water. The clouds part for a moment, allows a burst of sunbeams to spread over the water and you gasp at the sudden golden filter over the surroundings in front of you.
Another breeze, one from your left side, presses against your shoulder and your cheek. Almost like it’s whispering to you. You whip your head to the side, only to find nothing next to you. You feel like you’re floating, with the gentle caress of the wind to keep you company.
You eat your snacks in silence, embracing the way that it feels like the wind is Appa’s caress against your skin.
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By the time you return to the hotel, the sun is beginning to go down and a bittersweet sort of happiness settles in your heart. You feel closer to your dad than you have in a long time- this city was bound to feel like home with its welcoming arms curling around you warmly. You had spent the better part of the day visiting old sights and places that you had frequented to with Appa. 
It was peaceful, like a walk down memory lane. You could almost see your younger self bursting at the seams with joy at all of the new places. You could almost see her so eager to learn and demanding that Appa teach you Japanese immediately.
You wonder where that girl went. She’s lost, buried beneath layers and layers and maybe someday you’ll find her again.
Stopping by one of your favorite restaurants, you order all of your favorites times three. For your colleagues to have something to feast on when you returned from your day trip. You hadn’t been on your phone for most of the day, choosing to mute the group chat with your colleagues so you could truly be alone. 
Once you approach the familiar blue neon sign of the restaurant, you send them a text:
you: evening all. dont worry about dinner, Im bringing lots of food back sana: look who woke up from her coma namjoon: did you put it on your card? you: of course i did. you dont have to remind me joon ;)  you: want to have dinner together? jungkook: ya where should we eat Namjoon: come to my room, it’s room 1804 you: ok, be there in about thirty min
With your heart feeling full, brimming with fondness for your teammates, you pay for the heavy bags of food and make your way back to the hotel. You can’t help but smile as you walk with a little pep in your step.
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“You should have asked one of us to help you,” Jungkook says reproachfully, taking half the bags from you.
Your arms ache, not that you’ll admit your stubbornness. You only smile sheepishly, “It was only a fifteen minute walk.”
“And this is a lot of food,” Jungkook muses, peeking inside as his doe eyes sparkle in anticipation.
“It’s our first team dinner in Tokyo. We deserve it,” You shrug.
“I also bought a few bottles of wine,” Sana chirps, dangling two bottles of red in her hands, “We deserve it.”
You laugh and she winks at you. Namjoon is already setting up the many boxes of food on the mahogany wooden desk in the corner of the room. The curtains are pulled back, affording you of a breathtaking view of the city lights and the now hanging moon high in the sky.
“The boss has the best view, huh?” You tease, nudging his shoulder.
“Jungkook picked it,” Namjoon shrugs, “I just wanted to share the view with you all.”
“How sweet of you,” You say sincerely, “Dinner with a view. That’s pretty romantic. And Jungkook has good taste.”
Jungkook’s ears flush at your praise and he covers his ears for a second. Not that you notice. You sit on the floor, across from Jungkook and offer to scoop food onto everyone’s plates for them. You ignore their protests and do it anyway, quietly asking how much of each they want. Sana fills up plastic cups with wine and labels everyone’s cup with a black marker so you can all keep track of them.
“How classy of us,” Namjoon snorts but says thank you to Sana.
“Did you bring wine glasses in your luggage?” Sana shoots at Namjoon, “I didn’t think so.”
You stifle your laugh behind your hand and shake your head. “Feels like college, if only those cups were red,” You joke.
“My roommate still uses red cups sometimes, for casual purposes,” Jungkook says softly, “It drives me up the wall. Like, can you drink out of a normal cup or what? I get flashbacks to beer pong almost every morning.”
You laugh a little harder at that, and the sound is sweet in Jungkook’s ears. He wants to see if he can get you to laugh like that a little more.
“I mean, we’re grown now. I can’t believe Taehyung sometimes, having his morning orange juice in a red solo cup. It’s heinous.”
Your eyes are overflowing with mirth, the sound of your genuine happiness echoing in Jungkook’s ears and he can’t help but smile in return.
“Morning orange juice,” You mutter, “That’s adorable. Taehyung? That’s the name of your roommate?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, “We did undergrad together and he’s an aspiring art gallery curator. He’s actually coming here tomorrow-”
“Wait, hang on,” You say after chewing through a mouthful of noodles, “Is this Taehyung, as in Kim Taehyung who you snuck into that bar with and he ended up getting absolutely hammered and stealing three bottles of alcohol? Before getting kicked out and Jin and I took you both home? That Taehyung?”
The fondness with which you speak of Taehyung unnerves Jungkook. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, “That Taehyung.”
“Sounds like a real class act,” Sana says dryly.
“Wow, I haven’t seen him in years,” You exhale, “I think Jin’s bringing some friends from college tomorrow, too.”
“Yeah, he mentioned a Jimin and a Hoseok,” Namjoon adds.
“Damn, Sana, maybe we should’ve brought our friends, too,” You murmur, teasing but honestly, you don’t really have anyone you would’ve asked to bring, “Can’t wait to see what this boys weekend brings.”
You fully anticipate that Seokjin will rope you into whatever shenanigans they have planned, and you don’t even feel bad about crashing. You make a mental note to let Sana know of whatever plans they invited you to, so that she wouldn’t feel left out.
They don’t ask where you were all day, and for that you’re grateful. The lines of professionalism are beginning to blur for you, and you don’t want to burden them with your feelings and problems. You don’t want them to think differently of you for trying to catch a glimpse of Appa in your memories. 
Jin would say you were being silly, but you can’t help it. Maybe someday, but not today.
But Jungkook does wonder. Where were you all day? When the group chat was going off, you were silent. It was none of his business, but he’s curious. And he’s curious about you. You hadn’t changed out of your day clothes or taken your makeup off. He can see the nearly gone darkened stain of your gloss on your lips and the curl of your lashes. Jungkook keeps his eyes above your neck, knowing that if his eyes begin to wander he would be even more of a goner than he already was.
It’s September in Tokyo, meaning that it was warm during the day and somewhat chilly in the evenings. Your dark green long sleeved shirt is tucked into your shorts, complete with a black belt, leaving your tanned thighs on display. Jungkook thinks he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking from your shorts, but he thinks he imagines it. 
Until your shorts ride up just a little and he sees an array of colors and the fleeting sight of a flower on your upper thigh. Jungkook swallows nervously and stuffs his face full of udon noodles without hesitation. If his mouth is stuffed with food, then nobody will look twice at him and he can keep his thoughts to himself and ogle at you in peace. 
The logic makes sense in his head.
Your voice carries over to Namjoon, telling him that you’ll be picking Seokjin, Jimin and Hoseok up in the morning with the rental car.
“Hey, if Taehyung is arriving at the same time, do you want me to pick him up?” You ask, turning your gaze to Jungkook.
“Huh?” Jungkook asks. You roll your eyes.
“Taehyung. If he arrives at the same time as Jin, Jimin and Hoseok, do you want me to pick him up?”
“Er,” Jungkook says eloquently, “He’s actually been here for the last week. Thanks, though.”
You want to say that Jin would cause a scene and whine at you if you didn’t pick him up from the airport, the prince that he is. But you keep it to yourself- after all, he’s somewhat of a boss to Jungkook and Sana. 
You nod in understanding and shove more noodles and meat into your mouth. You stretch your legs out in front of you and Jungkook doesn’t look away, instead allowing his eyes to rake over you shamelessly. Nevermind that Namjoon and Sana are right next to him, probably wondering why he’s staring you down so intensely.
The four of you spend the rest of the evening discussing your plans for the weekend, avoiding the topic of work altogether. It’s nice, you can almost believe that you’re all just four friends making a weekend getaway without the confines of work looming over your heads.
Namjoon offers to split the remaining food amongst the four of you and puts equal amounts of everything into each container for all of you to take back to your rooms.
And then Sana pours more wine for each of you and you feel yourself beginning to get more and more relaxed with each sip you take. You want to open your stitched together lips, tell them how it’s been so long since you’ve had alcohol with anyone who wasn’t Jin. You want to tell them that you like red wine more than white wine, but nothing beats soju-
“What’s your favorite kind of wine,” Jungkook asks. He comes to sit next to you on the floor, stretching his legs out. His shoulder brushes against yours and you feel something like electricity at the soft touch.
“Um… I like reds over white wine. But I haven’t had that many reds to say which kind is my favorite,” You muse.
“Guess we’ll have to try some more red wine, huh?” Jungkook says, his eyes sparkling and bunny smile on display. 
Your heart warms and sputters at the same time.
“Yeah,” You nod breathlessly, “What about you? What do you like?”
“I’m not picky. I don’t really like cabernet,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “Too bitter for me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” You giggle, unable to believe that such a noise is coming out of your mouth. Despite Sana and Namjoon having their own conversation on the other side of the room, it feels like it’s just you and Jungkook for a minute in your own bubble.
“I like a good chardonnay, too. Nice ‘n crisp.”
“Me too, I love that crisp taste of a good white wine,” You reply, unable to keep your eyes off of him for longer than a second. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are a pretty pink and you wonder if his cheeks are as warm as yours are.
“Thought you didn’t like white wine?” Jungkook murmurs, head tilting inquisitively. 
“I prefer red, but if there’s white wine in front of me, I mean,” You shrug, “It’s not like ‘m gonna say no.”
“Oh? We’ll have to test that out, too,” Jungkook smiles, “I like soju the best. Nothin’ beats soju.”
“Yeah, peach and green grape,” You say knowingly, “The only flavors with rights.”
“Exactly. You get me,” Jungkook nods with wide eyes. He asks you about Tokyo, if you come here often. You answer him somewhat vaguely, but tell him that you grew up reading, writing and speaking Japanese. He looks impressed by that and the fondness in the lines of his lips startles you.
You chalk it up to the romance of this city making you soft and pliant to his doe eyes and the warmth of his smile. He’s so easy to get lost in- you find yourself leaning closer to him to hear what he has to say about his own travel dreams. He wants to go to New York City and Bangkok and Athens- the way his eyes light up constricts around your heart.
Every part of him radiates warmth and you want to be draped by it. He says something that makes you smile and laugh, and you swat at his shoulder reflexively. Jungkook only looks at you in that way. The way that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. He’s good at that.
He has hearts and stars in his eyes for you and it makes you choke.
Maybe you had imagined it all because you remember where you are. You’re in your boss’s hotel room and he’s standing right there. Jungkook sees the spark in your eyes disappear immediately and you pull away just as quickly, as if the moment had never happened.
He won’t deny the sting, but you’re so easy to get lost in. The fog in his mind clears, and while it’s only been a few minutes that you’ve been alone. It feels like much longer. But Namjoon and Sana are still deep in conversation, his dimples on display and her smile bright.
You pull away but your dark eyes are still wide and focused on him, stars swirling in your irises and Jungkook thinks he might fall into this wonderfully brown abyss held in your pretty face. Finally, you move away from him on the floor, almost immediately missing his warmth. You look back at him as you move to get some water, the same curious look on your face.
Your face is burning, and you’re surprised you’re able to keep this cool for this long. The urge to bolt from Namjoon’s hotel room and back to your own is one that you have to fight. But instead, you stay planted where you are. Jungkook confuses you, you hardly even know him and you had let him get so close to you. It’s not something you usually do, but what unnerves you is how nice it felt. The closeness of him, his eyes on you and only you. Are you bothered by it? 
No, you realize. No. You quite liked it. You’re supposed to hate him- he represents everything you hate. A young kid, a boy, raising quickly through the ranks of your corporate world, while you grasp at straws. 
Does he? Does he represent everything you hate? What a load of bullshit.
You swallow again. You need to leave.
“Hey, Joon,” You say softly, touching his elbow, “I’m going to head out. It’s getting late and I’ve gotta head out early tomorrow.”
Jungkook’s heart drops. He’d made you so uncomfortable that you were abruptly cutting your night short. Because of him. He needs to make this right.
“I’ll walk with you,” The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth before he can stop them. His heart is pounding in his ears- he needs to apologize before you hate him even more.
“Okay,” You reply with a smile, “Here are your leftovers.”
“I’ll walk with you both,” Sana says, taking her bag.
With that, you say your goodbyes and leave Namjoon’s room to the elevators. Your head feels like static, a wave of thoughts congealing into something impenetrable. The doors ding shut, all three of you standing on opposite ends of the elevator. You can’t look at Jungkook, you can’t see his doe eyes. Not right now.
Sana calls your name, “Thanks for the food.”
“No problem, Sana,” You murmur, “See you tomorrow.”
And then it’s just you and Jungkook in the elevator. 
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says immediately, “I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry. If you don’t wanna talk to me outside of work, I get it-”
“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. You take a step forward, close enough to him that you’re in his orbit. “You didn’t… You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Jungkook. I would have told you if you did. You just… confuse me.”
The last bit comes out as a vulnerable whisper and all Jungkook can do is nod. 
“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You say clearly, casting him a look over your shoulder as you exit the elevator. Your eyes are guarded once more, as if the night hadn’t happened. As if he hadn’t fallen for you even further. You wash him away from your bloodstream quickly and Jungkook feels his heart aching once more.
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By the time you pick up Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok from the airport and arrive at the hotel, it’s nearly noon. The car ride back was fun, dare you say it. It amazed you how Jin still remained close in contact with people you went to college with. It felt natural, talking to Jimin and Hoseok. As if years hadn’t gone by.
They were hot, and that was your first assessment when you had met them at the airport. Jimin and Hoseok had both embraced you in tight hugs, without any regard for whether you wanted one or not. You found that you didn’t really mind.
You didn’t know how you were going to survive this weekend surrounded by these many attractive people. 
“We should celebrate. For this reunion,” Hoseok says.
“Jungkook is here, too,” You reply, “A great big university reunion right here in Tokyo, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting you guys work together now,” Jimin says.
“Wait, you guys are friends still?” You ask.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Jimin says, genuine confusion in the handsome planes of his face.
You suppose everyone else is better at making and maintaining friendships than you are. It stings a little, having so many people from university in the same place. In the city that already holds so many memories for you. But you’ll embrace it, because that’s what you’ve been working on. Embracing change.
And of course, what was a boys weekend without a night out at the club? Jin had all but demanded that you come, in true dramatic fashion- I can’t go out without you, you know. I can’t believe you’re considering leaving me like this. I’ll die there without you.
It didn’t take much from you to roll your eyes but agree and tell him that you were inviting Sana.
“Go pregame and get ready with your boys,” You had urged him, “It’s so rare you all are together like this. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Are you sure?” Jin asked with uncertainty and you had only smiled warmly at him. 
“Yes, Seokjin. I’m sure. I’ll be crashing the party soon, don’t worry,” You reassured him and he left your hotel room. He promised to text you when to come and you just nodded, shooing him away.
That had been nearly two hours ago, and you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup with Sana getting ready in the bathroom. Music is playing through your phone and once you’re done with your lip gloss, you make drinks and prepare shots for you and Sana.
“You’ve gotta tell me how you’re friends with so many hot men,” Sana says, taking a seat on the bed.
You scoff, “I’m really only friends with Jin. The rest of them come with Jin, we’re hardly friends.”
“Oh?” Sana asks with a skeptical raise of her eyebrow, “You all went to school together, right?”
“Yeah… Something like that,” You say lightly, “Jin kept in touch with all of them. I didn’t.���
You leave it at that and Sana knows not to press further.
“They’re all nice guys. I always had fun with them,” You say fondly, “You will, too.”
“Cheers to that,” Sana grins, “We look hot. Let’s take a picture.”
“Should we send it to our boss,” You roll your eyes.
“Yeah, that would send him off the deep end. He’d be here in five seconds, dragging us out by our ears,” Sana rolls her eyes as well with a laugh.
You try your best to make Sana feel as comfortable as she can with you. At least so that she’s comfortable when you go meet up with the guys later. You know it can be intimidating being around people who are so close, but they’ve always been welcoming.
It begs the question- why did you let them all go?
You don’t have time to unpack all of that. By the time Jin texts you, telling you to come to his suite on the eighteenth floor, you and Sana are three drinks and two shots in.
You’ve drank more in the last two days than you have in the last year alone. At least that’s what it feels like. 
You make sure to take your hotel card, phone and wallet and ensure that Sana does as well. Giggles erupt from the both of you when you enter the elevator, and excitement thrums in your veins. The liquid courage bouncing around in your veins makes you feel relaxed and you tug Sana’s hand out of the elevator once the steel doors open.
You text Jin from outside his door, you can already hear the loud peals of laughter and the beat of music through the walls. You wonder if they’ve gotten any noise complaints yet, but probably not- his room is the only one on this side of the hotel. He probably did this on purpose.
When he doesn’t answer your text, you decide to knock obnoxiously and Sana giggles at your impatience. On your fifth knock, the door swings open and you see Jin’s tipsy face complete with reddened cheeks and his broad smile. 
He hugs you like he hasn’t seen you in years, he even lifts you off of the ground a little bit. Your heart flutters with affection for him as you whine for him to put you down.
“Jin!” You shriek, “At least go inside, dummy- stop embarrassing me-”
He finally puts you down and holds you by the shoulders to take you in. His eyes are sharp and he says nothing as he assesses your outfit, apparently deeming you as acceptable as he waves you inside. He says hello to Sana, who returns his mellowed out hug graciously.
Jin hands you both full cups, and you trust Jin enough to know it’s a yummy but strong drink. You grip your cup tighter and allow Sana to go in front of you. The last thing you want is for her to feel left out, so you want the guys to be introduced to her first.
Besides, they all already knew you.
Jin does the introductions quickly, the guys all warming up to Sana and bringing her in for hugs as well. Her cheeks are flushed, and you knew she’d feel flustered. They’re intense in their friendliness and it would make anyone feel flustered and warm.
And then their eyes land on you and you wish you could melt into the floor. Six pairs of eyes stare back at you- apparently Yoongi had also decided to come as well. 
College reunion indeed.
You stay close to Jin, offering them a weak wave of your fingers and a smile. 
“Hello boys,” You say dramatically,  “Long time no see.”
“Jin’s been hiding you all to himself, hasn’t he?” Jimin says, not bothering to hide the way he’s looking at you. And you don’t mind, not really- you know you look good.
“I just saw you this morning. When I picked your sorry ass up from the airport,” You reply and Jimin pouts at you as everyone around you laughs at his expense. 
“Still so mean,” Jimin murmurs and you roll your eyes.
And with that, alcohol continues to flow as the chatter continues on.
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You cast another glance to Sana, making sure she’s not by herself. You relax when you see her talking to Yoongi and Hoseok, smiling to yourself at how quickly she takes to them.
“Hey pretty,” Jimin says, seeing you near the alcohol and joining you.
“Hey you,” You parrot back and he smiles at you in that sweet, disarming way, “Want a drink?”
“You always made the best drinks,” Jimin says, handing his cup over to you. You ignore the way your chest tightens at his use of past tense.
“Maybe you just never knew how to make drinks,” You murmur, “Probably still don’t, huh?”
Jimin laughs lightly at that as a silence falls between you both. “You look good,” Jimin exhales, “You doin’ alright?”
You never know what to say to that. “Yeah. You look good, Jimin. You doin’ alright?” 
“Yeah. I’m still in Seoul at the dance school. Don’t be such a stranger,” Jimin murmurs and before you can protest, he pokes your forehead affectionately. 
“You’ll ruin my makeup,” You complain but give him a small smile, “Jimin. ‘M glad to see you. All of you.”
Jimin looks like he wants to say something more. But he bites his tongue. This isn’t the place to pick a petty fight, so he lets it go. Jungkook approaches you both, resting his arm on Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin groans dramatically and Jungkook only offers him a smile and a giggle.
“Cup’s empty,” Jungkook says, wiggling his cup to both of you, “Stop hoggin’ the alcohol.”
“Blame Jimin. Everything’s his fault,” You tease and Jimin rolls his eyes at you both.
“It is, isn’t it?” Jungkook grins and Jimin slips out from under Jungkook with another roll of his eyes. “Hey, you met Taehyung yet? My roommate? You ‘member him?”
His eyes are slick with alcohol, and yet they still sparkle at you like you hold all of the answers to the universe in them. He has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. It unnerves you, like many things about him do.
“No, where is he?”
Jungkook shouts for Taehyung to join him and you wince. All of a sudden his sandy haired roommate pops up from the direction of the living area and joins you at the drinks table. He looks a far cry from the boy you had driven home that night many years ago.
You knew being in the presence of so many attractive people was going to kill all of your brain cells by the end of the night.
Taehyung calls your name and nerves seize you inexplicably. 
“You remember me?” The words escape your lips before your brain has a chance to stop them.
“Course I do? The pretty girl who saved Kook and I at that one bar that I’m still banned from?” Taehyung grins, his eyes sweet and sincere.
“Jin was with me too, don’t forget him,” You say dryly, “Nice to see you again after all this time. And you’re Jungkook’s roommate?”
“Unfortunately,” Jungkook chimes in, earning him a laugh from you.
Taehyung is magnetic when he speaks to you, honey dripping from his tongue as he tells you about his journey as an aspiring art museum curator. Passion lights up his dark irises, his smile matching the intensity of it and you’re certain he has this effect on everyone he speaks to. They’re both so close to you, in your bubble and the scent of their cologne wafts into your nose. 
You drink more. You don’t know how to cope with all of this. So you drink.
Jungkook tells you that they’ve been roommates all through graduate school and they had recently moved into a new, bigger place. Now that they were both making a little more money. You find yourself benignly jealous of the life they live- two close friends living together and living for these kinds of nights with their other close friends. The bond they built and strengthened over the years is obvious in the way Taehyung holds Jungkook close, the way Hoseok lights up the entire room and makes everyone smile just because he’s smiling, the way Yoongi and Jimin bicker like an old married couple… Namjoon has already slotted himself within the group. Jin probably introduced him to them a while back, you realize.
Jungkook excuses himself to use the bathroom, leaving his cup next to Taehyung on the table. Taehyung’s gaze makes you nervous- the shift in his eyes is apparent as he lazily rakes his eyes over you.
“Kook told me he was workin’ with you again,” Taehyung murmurs, “What he didn’t tell me was how pretty you are.”
“What a line,” You say flatly and roll your eyes. To your surprise, he laughs, his smile making you smile as well.
“Just bein’ honest,” Taehyung shrugs, “‘Snot everyday you see our hot grad school girl after five years.”
“You’re full of it,” You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully, “‘Our?’”
“Jungkook was-” Taehyung starts but he’s interrupted by the man himself. Jungkook was what?
“You talkin’ about me?” Jungkook says, elbowing Taehyung. Taehyung only shakes his head and hands him his cup, before excusing himself. He throws you another charming smile and if you weren’t so on edge, your knees might have buckled.
“He’s…” 
“A pain in the ass?” Jungkook supplies, “Yeah.”
“No, I was gonna say he’s interesting,” You laugh. A short silence settles between you both, giving you a moment to really take him in. You itch your chin nervously before pushing your lips to the rim of your cup and watching him.
You’ve always known that Jungkook was somehow handsome, sexy and cute all at the same time- wide, doe eyes, pinchable cheeks, pretty smile, and then his body… His thighs strain against the tight material of his pants and you’re certain it’s deliberate. His button up shirt is loose but still molds to his muscles in that way where it leaves you wanting more. His shirt is buttoned at the elbow, giving you a peek to the smattering of tattoos on his forearm. His dark hair is parted in the middle, all soft and shiny, and a little long. It settles over his forehead, almost in his eyes, effortlessly. Two hoops in each ear glint in your direction and you swallow nervously.
Jungkook catches you looking at his tattoos- how ironic, considering he’s doing the same of you. The satin black top you’re wearing has a plunging neckline, giving him a view of the tattoos stemming from your upper arm to your clavicle.
It also offers him a teasing hint of your bare chest where if you turn to the side just a little, he catches a glimpse of even more. It makes him swallow, just as nervous as you. The top itself is loose, only cinched a little at the waist but your pants are tight, your strappy heels adding even more dimension to your legs.
You nervously twist the layering of gold necklaces around your neck. Jungkook has always thought you were beautiful, but he’s never seen you like this. Not even when he knew you years ago.
“Your cup’s empty again,” You laugh nervously, offering to make him another drink. You don’t know what to do with your hands, wanting to keep busy.
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes, “Yeah.”
He tries to keep his eyes on your hands, really he does. But you bend forward just a little and his eyes immediately flit to your plentiful chest. 
Jungkook thinks he might die, and what a way to go.
You pull away from the table, handing him his drink and he thanks you quietly. Jungkook ignores the way your eyes shine curiously at him, and he buries himself in the confusion fuzzing up his mind.
Jin, to your relief, pulls you away from Jungkook before you can do something incredibly stupid. Like let him burst through your carefully structured walls even further than he already has.
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Typically, clubs are not your favorite place to be. The intense crowd, the neon lights, the smoke… It’s all over the top. Usually, you can’t even hear yourself think over the music. Though, you don’t mind the sense of anonymity in such a crowded place. Besides, you’ve heard great things about IBEX, so you’re curious about it.
It’s a huge place, easy for everyone to split up, but still small enough that you can easily find your group. You urge Sana to go have fun with the guys as you order a round of drinks for everyone. As one of the oldest of your friends, you felt that sense of responsibility for them. Even if you hadn’t called them friends in years.
You signal them over once the drinks are ready, catching Namjoon’s eye and beckoning him over. They slowly begin to surround you, shouting thank you’s over the music. Jimin slings his arm around your shoulders as if it’s nothing. As if he’s known you for all this time.
It makes you feel warm. He gazes at you with crescent eyes and a full smile. It makes your heart thump heavily in your chest.
“Cheers,” Jimin says, tearing his eyes away from you and towards the group. His toast elicits a sequence of ‘cheers’ from everyone. You scan across all of them before your eyes inevitably land on Jungkook. He’s looking at you with a smile, the kind of smile that makes you wonder if it’s a smile only for your eyes.
Your smile matches his in intensity, neither of you pulling your gazes away. Until Jin pulls you away from Jimin, exclaiming that he needs to dance with you. His best friend.
The moment passes, and you make sure Sana is okay. She’s conversing with Yoongi now, and he’s laughing at something she’s saying. It makes you feel warm. Again.
You allow the music to pump through your veins as laughter bubbles from your lips freely at Jin’s antics. You entertain him, copying his coordinated movements with his same enthusiasm. You can tell he’s drunk, from the fiery flush in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He abruptly pulls you close to him for a tight hug and holds your face in his hands.
“Jin,” You giggle, “What you doin’?”
“I love you,” Jin giggles, “Y’r my best friend, ‘n I love you.” He always got like this when you were drunk, so affectionate. You wonder how he knows exactly what you need to hear, when you need to hear it.
“Can’t wait for you t’meet Yuna when we get home,” Jin slurs.
“I’m excited, too-”
“She’s nervous y’know,” Jin continues as if you hadn’t said anything, “Knows y’r my best friend.”
“Jin,” You exhale, “Even if she doesn’t like me, you clearly like her. I shouldn’t matter-”
“No,” Jin says sharply, “Why d’you think you don’t matter? You matter to me.”
“Jin-”
“Stop it,” He silences you and you comply with a sigh. 
“She doesn’t have to be nervous around me,” You finally say.
“You can be a little scary when you want to be,” He teases.
“That’s exactly how I want to be known,” You scoff and Jin laughs, swaying with you offbeat to the music. You stand with Jin like that for a few minutes, sipping on your drink and giggling at his antics.
“Seokjin,” You murmur, voice a little shaky, “I never say it but… I-I love you. So much. You’re my best friend and my rock. I don’t know who I’d be without you-”
“You’d be you,” Jin says without missing a beat, “You’d be scary, intense, kind, genuine, petty, funny and beautiful with or without me, sweetheart.”
Jin sees wetness in your eyes and pulls you in for another hug. “None of that,” Jin murmurs, “Hey, let’s take a picture ‘n send it to Grandma. She’ll get a kick out of that.”
You stand in Jin’s arms, in the crowd of people surrounding you and not paying attention to you. Despite the throng of people around you, it feels like it’s just you and Jin, and your friends in the club.
“Let’s get back to our friends,” You say, “They probably think we’re making out-”
“You would be so lucky,” Jin scoffs, “Only Yuna gets this handsome face.” You pinch his cheeks affectionately and coo at him.
“Hey, by the way,” Jin says, “Not to be totally unprofessional here. But I’m pretty sure Jeon Jungkook has the hots for you. Kid won’t stop lookin’ at you. Not that I can blame him, I mean look at your tits.”
With that statement, Jin walks away from you, leaving you confused and curious- two words becoming increasingly common with your thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.
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“Hey pretty,” comes a sweet voice to your right side. You already know it’s Jimin before you meet his sincere eyes.
“Hey you,” You reply, “Wanna dance? We used to always be in sync.”
If Jimin is surprised he doesn’t show it. He only takes your drink and finishes it, placing it on a high table near you. He walks behind you, a hand on the small of your back as you weave through the crowd easily. Bodies push back into you but you only dance along with them to move past. Jimin pulls you closer to him once he finds a spot, pulling you into his side. He turns you so that you’re facing him, the lights of the club illuminating the sheen of his lips and the shine in his eyes. You push a stray strand of his silver hair back behind his ear.
“I meant it you know,” Jimin murmurs, for your ears only, “You look good.” You lean into him at his praise, a hand on his chest. Your nails press into the soft material of his dress shirt and he tightens his grip around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles. 
“You do, too,” You reply easily, “You always did.”
Jimin scoffs but you look at him earnestly. “I mean it,” You say with a smirk, mimicking his words. He says nothing, only holds you and rolls his hips into yours to the beat of the music. He watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. You snake a hand to the base of his neck and lightly scratch as he presses his nose to your neck. You’re lucky he’s holding you tight- you’re certain you’re knees would buckle if it weren’t for him.
It’s been years since anyone danced with you like this. You let out a soft sound into his skin and Jimin groans, pressing his hips into yours even more slowly if possible.
“Why’d you leave,” Jimin breathes into your skin, “Missed you. Missed my friend.”
“I was a mess,” You mutter, “I’m still a mess.”
“You’re here now?” He asks, looking at you with big eyes. Jimin cups your face tenderly, and you’re not sure how many of these kind touches you can take for one night.
“Yeah,” You say faintly, “I just… couldn’t. I still can’t.”
You won’t apologize for mending your own cracks the way you needed to. And Jimin knows that. “Don’t be a stranger,” Jimin says and pulls you in for a hug.
“Jimin,” You mumble, “I missed you, too.”
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Barely stifling a yawn, you look around for your group. They’re all within eyesight of you- Sana and Yoongi were still engrossed in conversation with each other, Namjoon with Jin, Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung with Jungkook. Taehyung casts a look over to you and immediately whispers to Jungkook. It shouldn’t surprise you that they both saunter over to you, standing on either side of you. Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans against you as if you’re old friends. At this angle, you can see the expanse of his tanned, golden skin since the top few buttons of his shirt are popped.
“See somethin’ you like?” Taehyung asks coyly with a wink.
“No, just wondering why you’re wearing tinted aviators inside,” You mutter, pointing at him, “You look like an asshole.”
Taehyung laughs, throwing his head back good-naturedly, “You clearly don’t know fashion. You must think you’re hilarious.”
Before you can retort, a yawn overtakes you. “Are we boring you?” Jungkook teases.
“No, ‘m just tired,” You blink to force yourself to stop yawning, “Hey, you guys wanna get ice cream?”
“Yes,” Jungkook says instantly.
Taehyung nearly snorts but agrees. By the time you and Jungkook say your goodbyes, and you ask for the tenth time if Sana wants to come with you (she declines, opting to stay with Yoongi), Taehyung is nowhere to be found. Jungkook rolls his eyes, his phone vibrating with a text from him-
taehyung: you’re welcome 
“Tae’s not coming,” Jungkook says slowly, wondering if you might change your mind if it’s just you two getting ice cream.
You shrug, “His loss. I know a great place.”
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Taking Jungkook to one of your favorite ice cream places that you used to come with Appa to feels intimate. But it feels right and you’re not bothered by it. Once you buy your respective cones (you pay for both before Jungkook can even fumble for his card), you head back outside for a short walk towards the hotel.
The ice cream place itself was close to the hotel, though you had to Uber here from the club. It’s a nice night for a walk, a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. You and Jungkook fall into an easy conversation, talking about the silliness of your shared friends.
He looks nice under the moonlight, you decide. A light breeze lifts his hair up briefly before it flawlessly settles over his forehead.
“I can’t keep up with you,” Jungkook whispers, his words carrying into the night air.
“What do you mean?” Your heart picks up immediately at the anguish in his tone. The air between both of you shifts immediately. What was easy becomes hardened, the space between suffocating you. You can physically see him pulling away from you. Months, or maybe years, of frustration seems to be coming to a head right here. Right near your favorite ice cream shop.
“One sec you hate me. The next, you’re asking me to get ice cream with you,” Jungkook says, something familiar and icy curling in his brown irises. It always looks so off-putting, the callousness in his eyes. It seems to be directed at you so often these days.
“I don’t hate you-”
“You avoided me for 2 and a half months. You’re only talking to me now because you have to!”
“That’s not true-”
“Oh, really? You telling me that you the last two and a half months was all in my head?”
You stay quiet, because he’s not wrong.
“That’s what I thought,” Jungkook says to himself, tearing his eyes from you. The cold look in his eyes has returned and it makes your heart ache. He can’t look at you like that, you can hardly bear it.
“I’m fucked up, I get it. Don’t think I don’t get it-”
“You left. Without a goodbye and now fuckin’ five years later- my dream girl’s my colleague and she hates me.”
A sudden, chilling epiphany douses you- he has no idea why you left. You know him well enough to know that he’ll feel awful once you tell him. Apparently none of his friends had told him. Maybe they thought it was your story to tell. It’s not much of a story, not really. It’s the story of a heartbroken girl with commitment issues.
Your face drops. Maybe he’s hurting you the same way you hurt him. But it changes nothing.
“You can’t even look at me now!”
“You listen to me, Jungkook,” You hiss, “I’m not your dream girl. I’m nobody’s dream girl, so let’s get that straight. I’m awful a-and terrible and mean- and… 
“My dad died,” You finally whisper, “Appa died and I couldn’t handle grad school so I dropped out. Dropped off the face of the earth. Got the first job I could, for Grandma and me. 
“I fuckin’ dropped out, my daddy died and I can’t look at you sometimes because it fuckin’ reminds me of when I was happy and I can’t chase that feeling because I don’t know what it feels like anymore!”
Jungkook’s eyes are wide, pretty pink lips parted in speechlessness. Fuck. You’ve ruined any chance at friendship with him, you know that. So you bury the dagger even further in whatever this is and you turn on your heel and run. Because that’s all you’re good at. Running. Your eyes are blurry with freely falling tears and the sound of your own heaving sobs are loud in your ears. 
You leave your heart out on the streets of Tokyo, near your favorite ice cream shop but you don’t even hear the sound of Jungkook chasing after you.
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lu-undy · 3 years
Text
Chapter 97 - SBT
Here it is!
"Are you comfortable like this?" 
"Yeah… Thanks, luv'." 
Lucien slid his arms under the surface of the water to hug his lover. Both of them were in the bathtub, Mundy sitting between Lucien's legs. The lights were off in the bathroom, except for a few scented candles, and there wasn't a sound to be heard apart from the soft tickling of the bubbles popping at the surface of the water. 
"Lu', uh, I'm still… I'm still worryin' about it all…"
"Do me a favour, mon amour."
"Mh?"
"Forget about it, just for tonight. We can worry tomorrow, no one is chasing us."
"Yeah, but-"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Lucien cut him and hugged him tightly under the water. "You need to relax. You cannot remain stressed like this or you will have more grey hair than I do."
"I like your grey hair, Lu'..."
Lucien smiled.
"Do you really or is it just to make me feel better about it?" 
"No, it's the truth, I really love your grey hair, 's beautiful."
"So are you, all of you." Lucien answered and slowly let his hands splay on Mundy's naked skin before gently stroking his torso, chest and stomach in soft movements.
"Mmh… Thank you so much…" Mundy leaned his head back on Lucien's shoulder and the Frenchman smiled. He slid his fingers through the Aussie's short, brown locks of hair and started to knead his scalp. "Orh… God, yeah…" 
"Sshh, mon amour… Relax, and let me take care of you…"
"Lu'...?"
"Oui?"
"Please, talk to me…" Mundy rolled up his eyes and closed them as he hissed in pleasure. 
"About what?" 
Lucien's fingers were working wonders on Mundy's tired head.
"Anythin'... Talk, sing, anythin'... Just wanna hear you…" 
"Ah." Lucien got his mouth closer to Mundy's ear and whispered. 
"Je l'ai trouvée devant ma porte 
Un soir que je rentrais chez moi,
Partout elle me fait escorte, elle est revenue, la voilà…"
Mundy smiled and Lucien saw his chest heave under the waves of air that he knew oh so well. It was the beginning of the first song that Lulu had sang, all those months ago, more than a year ago now. La Solitude. 
Lucien did not sing all of it. He soon stopped and just whispered.
"Mon amour… I am so proud of you… Such courage…" 
Lucien's hands slithered from Mundy's hair to his shoulders.
"Oh… Lu'... Gosh… Hah…" 
Mundy's eyes were still closed. He felt the thin lips he loved so much on the side of his neck, behind his ear, nipping. The kisses were wet mostly from the bath water. 
Suddenly, Mundy's skin was very sensitive. He felt his hairs spike up everywhere and he was aware of every little flow that Lucien induced with his seductive caresses. 
"Lu'... W-what are you doin'...?" Mundy smiled with his eyes closed and the sight of it filled Lucien with joy. 
"I am taking care of you. It is my duty and pleasure…"
"Oh, Gosh… Y'know I'm sensitive there, please…" 
Lucien was brushing his hands on Mundy's hips, left and right. 
"Oui, I know." He simply answered as he felt Mundy's body struggle to not melt into jelly in his arms. "Don't resist it… Yield to me…" 
"God, not the voice… the whispers…"
"Relax, Mundy. Laisse-moi m'occuper de toi, laisse-toi faire… Fonds dans mes bras, je suis là, je prends soin de toi…"
[Relax Mundy. Let me take care of you, let yourself go… Melt in my arms, I am here for you, I take care of you…]
Mundy's breath changed. His chest heaved and he arched his back slightly. Lucien's lips were on his ear while his hands slowly slid up to his chest. He massaged there, gently, as he went on whispering whatever came to his mind to take Mundy's away from his problems. 
"I am yours, Mundy, I am yours and the sight of your naked body so pliant in my hands is a godly delicacy for my eyes… Look at you… So sensitive, your eyebrows twitch at every touch, no matter how delicate it is. Non, please, don't clench your jaw, relax everything in you and let yourself fall in my arms as limply as you can…"
"I… I can't…"
"Why…? What is the matter..?"
"Y-you're… Can't be limp everywhere…" Mundy blushed. He didn't know how to phrase that better, his brains were like jelly. 
"Mmh, is it?" Lucien's index fingers circled the little spots of darker skin on Mundy's chest and the Aussie's breath hitched. 
"Hah! Gosh, Lu'...!"
"Very sensitive we are, non?"
"Y-yeah… Hah… Please…"
"What do you want, Mundy? Do you want me to…" Lucien's hands slid down and dangerously close to Mundy's private area. The Aussie removed Lucien's hands fast. 
"No! Please!"
The Frenchman immediately removed his hands. 
"I… I am sorry, mon amour, I thought you wanted me to-"
Mundy stood up and exited the bathtub. He grabbed a towel and wiped himself dry. 
"Mundy…?" 
He then turned to Lucien and helped him out, silently, before drying him too. He wrapped his still damp, long hair in a towel and hugged his naked body. 
"What is the matter, mon amour?" 
Mundy's head was buried in the crook of Lucien's neck and his eyes were closed there. 
"I… Thank you so much…" 
"What for?" 
"Just bein' here for me and… Always puttin' me first and…"
"It is my pleasure." Lucien hugged him back. "You just need a bit of comfort."
"Only you can do that." 
"Do what?" Lucien asked.
"Make me feel better." 
Lucien smiled and Mundy finally looked down in his eyes. 
"I love you, Lu'. Love you so much…" He took Lucien's delicate chin between his fingers and pulled it into a kiss. "Love you… and need you…" 
Lucien's hands slid on Mundy's back, between the scars. 
"I am here.. for you…" 
They spoke between kisses, when they could afford to divert their attention away from the other's lips for a few words. 
"Lu'..." Mundy's kiss grew more heated. It might be Lucien's hands on his hips… 
"Orh, oui…"
...or his own hands on Lucien's softness. 
The Frenchman frowned. Mundy's hands behind him were playing a dangerous game, a game where Lucien's knees would lose. 
"Mundy…" 
Lapping sounds resonated in the tiled bathroom and the towel on Lucien's hair fell to the floor. 
"Lu'..."
One of Mundy's hands slid up along Lucien's spine, making his skin prickle under the calloused digits, whilst the other stayed where the Aussie loved it and kneaded, squeezed tenderly and pulled gently. He wanted to feel all of Lucien in his hands. Lucien's knees were fighting for some strength as his hands grasped Mundy's shoulders. In case his legs failed, at least he would hang from the Aussie's shoulders… And he was on the tip of his toes too, trying to reach his tall lover's lips without ever breaking contact. 
Their breaths grew louder and as Lucien was slowly losing his balance, Mundy turned and pushed him against the wall. There, Lucien would be at least resting part of his weight against it. 
The Aussie didn't waste any time and dived to the Frenchman's neck. 
"Mon Dieu!"
He bit it and Lucien's eyes snapped wide when he felt the sharp canines sting. He bit his lip and hung on to Mundy's body, as best as he could. 
"M-Mundy… Hah…"
To help Lucien stand even more, Mundy pushed his hips against the Frenchman. The sudden meeting of their intimacies punched their guts warmly. 
"Grand Dieu…." 
Lucien screwed his eyes shut and let Mundy kiss, claw, pull, grab, and bite wherever he wanted. 
"Need you on the bed, Lu'..." 
"Take me… Oh?!" 
Mundy put his arms below Lucien's thighs and powerfully carried him in his arms. The Frenchman wrapped his legs around the Aussie's waist and clung to him until they arrived in the bedroom and Mundy delicately laid Lucien on his back, on the bed. 
"Gosh, you're gorgeous…" 
It only took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness, and they took advantage of it to forget about the rest of the world. In their pitch black, soft universe, there was only them. However hard they opened their eyes, they couldn't see anything else but each other, and however hard they strained their ears, they couldn't hear anything but their moans, their hitched breaths, syllables of love, wrapped under the bed's cover, in the secrecy of their own world. 
"Oh oui… Oui, Mundy…" 
The Aussie was on top of Lucien. He had one hand in his hair, grasping the silky cinder locks firmly. His other hand held both of them where their desire burnt the most. And he clenched his grip, massaging along the lines of their veins, reading in Braille what Lucien didn't dare say, because it wasn't like him. It wasn't like him to be too blunt, too crude. As he did in life in general, he carefully chose his words in the sheets too, for the pleasure to grow without crossing the line and breaking it all. 
So what Lucien couldn't say, he conveyed differently. A loving and slow roll of the hips, a slightly higher-pitched whimper, a syllable laced in a thin whisper, because the sentence would be too much. 
"More…" 
Mundy's hand released his own masculinity to only focus on Lucien. 
"Non, please… You and me…" 
Mundy smiled and kissed the corner of Lucien's lips before wrapping his fingers again around both of them. 
"Oui… Oui…" 
Mundy's other hand slid down from Lucien's hair to his face, grabbing his bearded jaw and pulling. He too, needed more of his lover. 
"Hah… Oui…" Lucien loved it. There weren't enough words to express it, or maybe he just didn't know them. So for lack of a better way to phrase it, he whimpered, his moans jumping an octave higher in pitch. 
"Like it when I hold you…?"
Lucien nodded, his lips still against Mundy. He couldn't answer with words. 
"Right then…" 
Mundy's hand slithered down to Lucien's chest, his fingers drowning in the short, salt and pepper chest hair. He pinched a nipple and Lucien's voice jumped again as his back arched. The Aussie chuckled and bit his lover's ear. His hand continued its journey down until it went lower than the first. 
"Ohf-gnh! Mundy!" 
With a hand on their lust, and the other below Lucien's, the Aussie grinned maliciously. Lucien's eyes were shut and he didn't see it. He could only feel the confident hand cup, caress and massage the two treasures that Lucien kept underneath his member. 
"Sensitive there, eh?" 
Lucien's hands had slid to Mundy's hair and clenched. He nodded again. 
"I like it… Ooh, y'liked that, didn't ya?" 
Lucien's dignity had left the room a long while ago. There was nothing else to save, so he yielded and his vocal chords sang a song that Mundy revelled in. It was high in pitch, almost feminine and definitely weak, something that the hunter appreciated deeply. He liked hearing the confident and gorgeous man lose his composure and there was something beautiful and raw in Lucien's vulnerability; something that tickled the Aussie in his body as much as in his pride. It was shameful, perhaps, but part of him was far from shy and liked the position of power, not in a cruel way, but just knowing that he was in control and able to satisfy his lover, he was in a position of predator, not prey. Oh, yes, he enjoyed pulling the wanton moans, the weak whimpers, the syllables of Lucien's pride collapsing. He liked it all as much as he liked providing enough comfort and trust for Lucien to abandon himself that way, to be as defenseless as he wanted, to lower his guard and enjoy the luxury of the safety in Mundy's arms. 
"Mundy… please…?" 
"Right, enough teasin'..." Mundy lay on top of Lucien and let his entire body weigh on the Frenchman. His arms slithered left and right around the silhouette of the singer, the spy, the partner in crime, in life and now, in the sheets. He hugged Lucien powerfully as he kissed him hungrily. There was nothing to lose that he hadn't lost yet. There was no obstacle, no limit in his head, no barriers, no secrets. 
"Mon Dieu…" Lucien's eyebrows arched high up and he could feel his eyes warm up. "Please, take me…" 
"Whatever you want, darl'..." Mundy added a quick kiss on Lucien's lower lip while the Frenchman was trying to catch his breath and relax. A second later, a pop resounded in the room, and a smell, the smell of lust, diffused in the room. 
"How do you want me?" Lucien whispered. 
"However you want me to take you, luv'." 
And Lucien flipped to lie on his stomach. 
"Yeah, that's perfect…" Mundy couldn't resist and dived in that softness that beckoned his eyes. He couldn't resist it, there was no way. He lapped, bit and savoured as Lucien's hips jerked on their own occasionally. "Mmh… So soft…" 
Another bite and Lucien whimpered. 
"Please…!" He begged and Mundy felt the outcry resonate between his own legs. 
"Gosh, yeah…" He put his hands on Lucien's softness and pulled, left and right before kissing and lapping. 
"Please, Mundy, I… really need you…" Mundy had noticed that indeed, Lucien was rolling his hips on the bed. "Oh! Oui!" The Frenchman grabbed a pillow and buried his head in it, to solely focus on the new sensation. Mundy went slowly and prudently before he added more to the play. 
"Breathe, luv', you're doin' great… Take your time…" He kissed Lucien's behind and thighs repeatedly.
"More…"
Mundy did as Lucien asked and could feel the Frenchman slowly adjust to the sensation. Now, Lucien felt the same burning front and back. 
"You… I need you…" 
"Ssh… Let me just… Yeah, look at you… You're perfect…" Mundy had added yet another finger to the play and Lucien's tears started beading at the corner of his eyes. It wasn't because of the pain, but the frustration, the anticipation, the slow burn was killing him. 
But soon, Mundy withdrew and Lucien whined as a complaint. 
"Just a second… Didn't know you could be that impatient, eh…?" Mundy lay on top of Lucien's back and the Frenchman raised his hips. "Oh… Yeah… P-perfect…"
Lucien bit the pillow below him to smother his moans that Mundy could hear nonetheless. It took a few seconds of exquisite agony before the Aussie was entirely in the safety of his lover's body. "Yeah… Orh… You feel… so nice… Hold on…" He grabbed Lucien's shoulder from behind, as leverage, and started to roll his hips. "Ohohooo… Yeah… Yeah…!" 
Each roll of his hips was met by Lucien's eager ones. And the game started to get hotter, both started to sweat… 
Lucien turned his head away from the pillow to catch some fresh air and Mundy caught the corner of his lips. His hands slid one across Lucien's chest, the other on his throat. 
"Oh! O-oui!" 
Mundy's eyebrows would have jumped if he wasn't so busy. He didn't know Lucien had that… side to him. The one that complemented Mundy's baser, hunter instincts, the prey side. Mundy's fingers laced around the Frenchman's throat, careful not to squeeze too tightly but enough to feel the fragile column of delicate flesh, the source of Lucien's voice, of his songs of pleasure, of his sounds of lust. 
Mundy paused for an instant and pushed a lock of Lucien's long hair away from his face. 
"Love you, Lu', love you so much…"
"Hah… Mundy… Why… Why…" Lucien panted.
"Why, what, darl'?" Mundy lay on top of Lucien still and hugged him. Their breaths soon synced. 
"Why did I have to wait so long for this?" 
Mundy smiled. 
"Cause you come across as a posh snob, not someone who likes bein' put in his place…"
Lucien smiled, his eyes still closed. 
"And all it took…" He answered. "Was an outstanding sharpshooter…"
"Apparently, yeah. But I'm not a sharpshooter anymore, luv'."
"Non, it is true. And yet, anything you have done from the moment I saw you use your rifle to today, all of these things led me to be underneath you now and… well, dare I say, sing my pleasure in octaves unheard of before…"
"Mmh…" Mundy kissed his lover again and again, Lucien turning his head as much as he could to meet his lover's lips. "I love you… I love takin' care of you like that…" Mundy tightened his grip on his lover and raised his hips slowly before pushing them back. 
"Oorh…" Lucien's eyes rolled up in bliss and he bit his lower lip. Mundy's break was over and soon, the bed started to creak as the springs in the mattress suffered in rhythm with Mundy's hips. 
Mundy stuck his cheek to Lucien's, both slid against each other with the sweat.
"Listen to me… Y-you're everythin', ok? Y-you're so… important… Can't stop thinkin' about you… I see you everywhere, in everythin', I don't want you to go… I wanna stay with you, always… Uh-hold on… There!"
"Arh!" 
Mundy had slipped a hand where Lucien was craving it. 
"Listen to me, I-orh… I'm gettin' close… You're gettin' me… so… bloody… close…"
They were both out of energy. Mundy's abs and thighs burnt, Lucien's lower body didn't respond to him anymore, it was totally controlled by Mundy's hips and what they held in between.
"Hold on… need to kiss you…" Mundy withdrew from his lover who complained with a whine. He gently rolled him to face him and smiled as he caressed his face, pressing his sweaty forehead against Lucien's. "No, please… Don't be sad… Here… Uh, Gosh you're perfect…" 
Mundy positioned himself again and asked for his thighs to make one last effort, to carry him and Lucien till the end. He was in pain, drained of energy and panting hard. Lucien pushed his hips back to help him. Oui, they would conclude together.
"Arh… L-Lu'..."
Mundy slid his fingers through Lucien's long hair, raking his scalp with his calloused fingers. Both opened their eyes and stared intensely, Mundy, his brow furrowed and focused, his jaw clenched, Lucien, his eyebrows arched high up and tears at the corner of his eyes, looking up to the only man he should ever show weakness too. Because it wasn't weakness, it was trust.
"Oui… M-Mundy, hold me… Kiss me… Mon Dieu!" 
The Aussie obeyed and stuck his lips to his lover. But both felt it. Their high was imminent. Lucien dug his pristine nails in Mundy's back and wrapped his legs around his waist as the Aussie's hips slowed down and pushed impossibly further, chasing a pleasure that now crashed in waves through his entire body. 
"Mundy!" 
"LUCIEN!" 
Perle and Soot woke up in a flash from the other end of the corridor, their ears pricked up. Mundy's roar had slashed the air as he let himself collapse on his lover.
Their ears rang with the fading ripples of Mundy's outcry in the air, their hearts were beating a samba on their temples as their breaths galloped to catch the oxygen in the room. Once abundant, now it felt like none was left.
Instinctively, their eyes closed, they found each other's lips and clung there. The rest of their bodies were too weak. They needed to rest, catch their breaths and wait for the blood to flow back everywhere. 
And so they waited for their breaths to calm down. None of them realised it but they fell asleep in that position, making one still, in the safety of each other's arms. Their bodies and mind blacked out for God knows how long. 
When Mundy opened his eyes again, the sky was still dark but some early birds were chirping. 
"Mmh… mon amour…"
Kiss… Kiss… Kiss… 
Shy pecks were landing down in the crook of Lucien's neck and along his bearded jaw.
"Mundy… Let me sleep…" 
"Not a chance."
Mundy felt Lucien's legs stretch under the blanket and soon, the Frenchman's limbs laced sensually around his lover.
"Ya clingy lil' panther." 
"Mmh!" Lucien protested but his moan soon melted in the velvety chuckle that Mundy loved so much. The Aussie raised the duvet and covered them both before kissing the Frenchman some more, pushing him deeper and deeper into the mattress itself. "Someone woke up in a playful mood, hm?" 
"Well, I had a good night, and I woke up still in the arms of my darl', so yeah…" 
"And your darl', as you call him, is delighted."
More lapping sounds under the cover of the duvet, Mundy still on top of Lucien. 
"How d'you feel?" 
"Some areas are a bit… sore." 
"Ah, sorry, my fault." 
"Oui, it is. But I do not hold a grudge against you for it." 
They rolled and Lucien climbed on top of his lover, lying flat on his naked body. 
"Would a massage help…?" Mundy slid his hands down Lucien's back. 
"Are you asking more for me or for you?" 
Mundy chuckled. 
"For you, of course."
"Mundy…?" 
"Right, maybe a bit for me too, eh." He gently caressed Lucien where he liked it most. 
"Ah, gently, please…" Lucien pushed the cover away from them and the sunlight hit their naked and lazy bodies.
"Yeah, don't worry. I'm not gonna squeeze it." Mundy looked down on his torso. Lucien looked like a mermaid sunbathing on his chest of the same colour as the sand. His long, cinder hair was flowing on Mundy's torso. The Aussie caressed it. "Love your hair, darl', so soft and beautiful." 
"Merci. I love you entirely." Lucien gently scratched his lover's chest hair, next to his own head. "I had the most pleasant dream last night." 
"Oh? What was it?" 
"There was a feral, wild Bushman, an outstanding sharpshooter."
"Ooh, what did he do?" 
"Things that my lips cannot say."
"Why?" 
"Because it isn't made for children's ears."
"Where d'you see a kid?" Mundy asked. 
"There…" Lucien pointed at the door. 
"Meow…?" 
"Yeah, hold on, guys, let me cover Papa… He's all nakey nakey, eh…?" Mundy pulled the cover up to their waists and the cats trotted in the room before jumping on the bed and brushing themselves on both of them.
"Bonjour, les enfants." Lucien moved to lie next to Mundy, his head on his shoulder and both Perle and Soot lay between them. They loved being showered in scratches and their purrs grew louder.
[Hello, children.]
"Meow?" 
"Yeah, Sooty boy, I know you want your brekky. Give us a minute to wake up, yeah? We also need a good shower…"
The black male with green eyes headbutted Mundy affectionately and the Aussie gave him a cat kiss in response. 
"Meow." Perle called and Soot immediately raised his head to her. She gently walked to the edge of the bed, her fluffy paws sinking in her masters' body through the cover, and jumped down. 
Soot was quick to follow his wife out of the bedroom. 
"Pearl's the one who's leadin', eh?" Mundy said as he watched Soot trot to his companion.
"So am I." Lucien cheekily answered. 
"Think you need to rethink that after last night, hm?"
"Do I?"
"Mh-hm." Mundy nodded. 
"Make me, then." Lucien cocked a cheeky eyebrow.
It took a second trip of the cats to pull the lovebirds out of bed. 
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