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lewdbabies · 3 years

Text

~The neighbor ~

part 2

nanami kentox reader smut

warning: MDNI, 18+, Raw sex , praising kink, Language, Rough sex, Breeding, smut

Part 2

Work was slow as usual, after morning hours the cafe tends to slow down lunch and dinner were served but it wasn’t very popular. Judging by the way Nanami was in a rush earlier it seemed he didn’t have time to stop by for his regular Black coffee. You lean against the register catching up on the latest novel you’d been reading. Your boss is in the back doing “Inventory “ which really meant taking a nap in the office. You glance at the clock perched on the wall, 1:30 pm, you sigh time was dragging on today. You turn your attention back onto your book engrossing yourself in the literature.

“Hello may I see the lunch menu please”

You jump.

You’d been so enraptured by your book you hadn’t even heard the door bell ring.

“Y-yes W-welcome let me grab that for you one second” you slam your book shut and quickly squat down grabbing a laminated lunch menu.

You look up and you’re met with brown eyes.

He smiles grabbing the menu, your hands brush lightly. You’re panicking, this is the first time he’s ever came to the cafe for lunch. He nods walking to A booth furthest from the entrance, you watch in awe admiring his physic. You grab a towel and begin to buss tables giving him time to decide what he wanted. Your eyes keep darting over at him blushing every Time your eyes meet. He doesn’t seem to mind he gives you a small smile in response.

After a while you walk to the register to grab your note pad and pen. You reach in your pocket for your lip gloss dabbing some on before making your way over to his table. He’s looking down, his brows scrunched in focus.

“Is anything looking good” you call out cheerfully.

“Yes you are” his tongue slides across his lips.

“Pardon?” You asked unsure of what you heard.

“I said yes it is” he rubs his chin staring directly into your eyes.

You ignore it deciding you’re just hearing things, He points to a item on the menu.

“This will be fine “ he states.

“The eggs Benedict, Alright and for your drink?” You scribble on your note pad.

“Black coffee should suffice” he nods to himself in approval.

“Alrighty I will have that right up” you rip the paper from your pad and start towards the kitchen.

“Order up!” You call back, sticking the ticket up.

You were in charge of making all the coffee related orders, came with being a barista/cashier. You didn’t mind though, you learned to Create lots of different foam patterns. Coffee making was fun if you made it, you even created a couple secrete menu items of your own.

You reach for a mug, pouring the freshly brewed coffee inside, steam swirls from the cup. You set the mug ontop of your silver serving tray and make your way back to his table. He’s looking through a stack of papers, his briefcase sits open on the table top.

“Here’s your coffee” you grab the glass in an attempt to hand it to him unaware of how hot it is. The glass burns your hand causing you to drop it out of reflex. It crashes down spraying all over Nanami’s suit and paper work.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” You grab a fist full of paper towels frantically trying to clean off his suit. You pat the spilled coffee from his lap, He shifts in his seat.

“Uhn-“ he makes a soft noise catching you off guard.

You bolt up your face is red hot, you look away in embarrassment.

“I-I can pay to have this dry cleaned! Ugh I’m such a klutz-“

He interjects “no it’s fine you don’t have to do that”

“Please allow me too I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t” you bite your lip in guilt.

His eyes darken at the sight of you standing there looking so remorseful and innocent. He looks away for a second debating his next move.

“If you insist, the jacket only will be enough I assure you” he says slowly, sliding his coat off. His arms bulge through his white button down shirt.

He hands you the jacket hesitantly You’re dying of embarrassment.

“I’ll have this back to you tomorrow I swear it” you blurt quickly walking away.

“That coffee was a nightmare to get out kid” The dry cleaner complains.

You give an apologetic look as you sign the ticket finalizing the payment.

“Thanks again For getting it done so quick Danny”

“Yeah yeah yeah next time tell the guy to make the coffee land in his mouth got it” you laugh as you wave goodbye walking out the door. You check your phone , 6:10 pm, Nanami asked you to be there at 5:30 but work held you up today.

Luckily the dry cleaners is around the block from your apartment like most things. Before you know it your apartment entrance is in sight, You push the elevator button. It takes forever as usual, when it finally arrives you walk inside. Nanami lived on the same floor as you just opposite sides. You walk down the hall that connects your building’s searching for unit 12.

Your phone lights up, it’s a text from nanami ‘having trouble finding me?’ You laugh to yourself stopping to type back.

‘Closer than you think’ just as you press send the door in front of you swings open.

You jump with a fright, he sure had a way of scaring you. He’s standing there dressed completely different from how you were use to seeing him. He wore a green long sleeve top, Casual dark jeans , his eyes were covered by strange glasses.

“Come on in” he smirks.

You step over the threshold laying the jacket across his cream couch. His apartment was clean, not regular clean, everything was perfectly in its place. Despite all the lighter themes there wasn’t a spec of dirty anywhere in sight.

“I’m sorry I’m late work-“ you explain

“I understand, would you like a drink “ he disappears into the kitchen, returning with two wine glasses and a bottle of an unknown expensive looking champagne.

“Uh-uh yeah sure”

You sit on the couch crossing one leg over the other nervously. The space beside you dips as he sits next to you. You watch the muscles in his hands twitch as he pours your glass. You squirm in your seat, squeezing your legs tightly together.

‘Is he smirking’ you think to yourself watching him out the corner of your eye.

He hands you the drink before pouring his own. He watches curiously over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip, His stare sends a twitch through your clit.

“You like Austen as well?” He asks, you give a confused look.

He continues “ The book you were reading earlier” you realize he must have caught a glimpse at it earlier.

“Oh, Yes I do she is one of my favorites actually” you admit.

He reaches over tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry im kind of a neat freak I hope I didn’t offend you-“ he doesn’t move his hand away.

“N-no it’s okay” your body is warm, the alcohol creeps up on you slowly. Before you can stop yourself you nuzzling closer into his palm, his thumb strokes your cheek. He slides his hand to the nape of your neck gently pulling you closer as he leans in.

“Is this okay?” He breathes parting his lips.

Your breathing becomes erratic as you glance down at his lips inches from your own.

“Y-yes...” he runs his tongue gently over your bottom lip before capturing them in a hungry kiss.

He briefly breaks away removing his glasses setting them on the coffee table. In one swift motion he grips your waist hoisting you onto his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck in surprise. You lean into him pushing him into the couch cushion his hand travels up your back to your neck pulling you to his waiting lips. “Mmm Uhn-“ He moans slipping his tongue between your lips.

You grind against him the clothing between you becoming an unwanted barrier. His skillful hands slide up your back release your bra clasp, he pulls away flustered and messy hair’d. You lift your arms as he slides your shirt and bra above your head tossing it into the far corner.

“Keep your arms above your head” He orders.

You obey holding your arms up, His tongue attacks your strained nipples. He sucks gently, Using his hand to tease the other, it’s too much to take and your arms drop.

“Arms up or I stop, Little one” you whimper raising your hands above your head.

He sucks your hard bud into his mouth giving it a soft nip sending lighting between your thighs.

“Ah Ah Please mmmnh-“ you plead for more. His hands travel up your skirt pushing your panties aside invading your soaking folds.

“Mmmm so wet already” he brings his fingers to his lips tasting your excitement.

“You’ve been dreaming of this haven’t you, watching me stroke my cock through your drapes at night “ he plunges two fingers inside your slippery hole. You gasp holding back a scream as he finger fucks you slowly.

“Take it out” he demands.

You waste no time unzipping his pants and freeing his pulsing member. You stroke his length admiring how big he is.

“Sit on it” he grips your waist positioning your entrance with his tip. He strokes your slit teasing you making you beg for more.

You grind against him pushing down desperate for him to fill you up. He lets out a feral growl slamming you down on his cock mercilessly.

“Fuck yeah take it, Ah you like the way I stretch your little pussy don’t you” he slaps your ass bouncing you up and down.

He rails into you at a feverish pace, your hips colliding relentlessly.

“ Look at me, Look me in my fucking eyes, show me that pretty face while I fuck you” he groans.

You look at him tears of pleasure staining your face as you get closer to your climax.

He grabs your hair crashing his lips to yours entangling your tongues.

“Ah Ah I’m gonna cum” you cry out, he Drills harder into you biting the soft skin of your neck.

“Cum for me princess, yeah just like that, good girl” he moans.

“Look at me, Look at me, show me how you cum baby, Ah fuck” it sent you over the edge your walls clench around him juices washing over his twitching cock. His eyes roll back as he messily pumps into you filling you with cum. You fall forward, he wraps his arms around you holding you together. You’re both sweat drenched and fucked out depending on each other’s bodies for support.

“You should have spilled coffee on me sooner” he states seriously.

You look at each other in silence before breaking into uncontrollable laughter.

“I agree” you say smiling like a idiot.

~the end💗 comment please tell me who you’d like to see next 🥵🥲

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #sukuna smut #smut #jjk fanfic #nanami fanfic #fanfic #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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rqnvindr · 3 years

Text

delicacies

pairing: baker!childe x gn!reader

genre: fluff, modern bakery!au, suggestive

w.c: 1.5k

warnings: making out lol

synopsis: moving to a new country was quite the adventure. and you found new areas to travel further within the cute boy right down the road’s ocean eyes.

it had been a total of two weeks since you arrived in italy. getting settled was your top priority, but now that you’ve got your place set up and are getting used to college life in a new country, it was about time you started checking off some of the more leisurely activities on your checklist.

the streets were clearer, less busy than usual, on the weekend you enter the bakery. it seemed like an unpretentious, small business, with the simple, yet homely, beige walls and the old vinyl in the corner playing soft tunes. the bell rings when you enter, but no one seems to be behind the counter when you examine the array of cakes in the front display.

“welcome! i can help you when you’re ready to order!” a perky male voice interrupts you in the middle of eyeing a slice of strawberry cake. you look up to see a ginger with a warm smile, the crinkles around his blue eyes genuine.

“hello! i was hoping to get this slice of cake right here.” you point to said strawberry treat.

“ah yes. my older brother has been WAITING for someone to try his new signature strawberry cake. but there honestly can’t be anything special about something that tastes the same no matter what.” you can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes as he takes the cake out to put it in a box.

you raise an eyebrow. “complaining about your own products? that doesn’t seem like a very good marketing strategy, but i suppose reverse psychology will do its job.”

“you sound like you know about sales quite a bit.” he smiles wryly. “are you a business major?”

“yup! i actually just moved here to study at the local university for an overseas program.” you only knew this guy for a maximum of 30 seconds, and he had already seemed so open and was able to read you like a book. it made you want to know more about him in exchange.

“so your family bakes everything here?” you ask.

“yes we do! my parents usually do the baking while my siblings and i work varying shifts here up front or stocking up the inventory. but we too, also experiment with different recipes to sell new things.”

you hum in response. “you must have a lot of siblings then.”

the boy chuckles in response. “i do. i don’t know what i’d do without them.” he sounded so happy while talking about his family and it made you feel warm just hearing about how they worked together.

“is this a competition for how much we can learn about each other within a span of a few minutes.” he smirks. “when we haven’t even learnt each others names yet?”

you inspect his attire, pausing at a name tag pinned to his shirt pocket. “ajax? nice to meet you, i’m (y/n).”

“well, (y/n), hope to see you again after trying my brother’s cake. hope it makes you realize that you gotta go for the chocolate or vanilla, not something that wasn’t meant to be a dessert in the first place.”

“i mean it was good so i came back for another one?” you can’t help but laugh when the same boy you met at the counter last week shakes his head.

“and you came to order right around closing time too, huh? guess this makes you a new challenge for me.” you avert your gaze to the ground, suddenly feeling nervous from his chastising.

“fine, you can lose the pouty face. i’ll accept your questionable taste just this one last time.” he pushes his hair back with a sigh after packing up your order and you catch yourself staring.

and of course, just when you allow yourself to indulge in the sight of a mysterious sea of unanswered questions in his blue eyes, he locks eyes with you. he knows you’re checking him out, causing him to smirk coyly.

“ajax,” you begin, preventing the atmosphere from heading somewhere more tense. “have you lived here all of your life?”

“as a matter of fact, no i haven’t. my family has been around, but i think we’ve finally found where we’re supposed to belong here. i’ve been living here long enough for people to start calling me by two different names too. ‘tartaglia’ and also ‘childe’.”

hm. so he was attractive and went by multiple names....

“‘tartaglia’? interesting, sounds like you’ve even earned yourself a name amongst the locals here.”

“i don’t know why they named me after the guy from that one play, though. maybe it’s because i leave a little bit of a stutter in people’s lives.” childe winks.

stutter, huh.

you thought he was just being a boastful young man. until you found yourself just happening to visit the bakery during times you predicted he’d be there.

childe was like a peacock strutting his stuff out in the open, captivating, and divine. you had never met someone so adventurous yet down to earth at the same time. one moment he’d be bragging about his ventures with his friends, and then next thing you knew he’d do a 180 if his little brother called in the middle of your conversation.

it wasn’t just his actions. he grew more bold with his words too. eyes shooting stars as he looked you up and down, noticing the new outfit you wore just for him when he purred about how good you looked and how it was always a treat to have someone as sweet as you visit after a long day at work.

he was always full of surprises. you’re reminded of that when you find him standing behind the counter in a hoodie and jeans instead of his usual work attire.

“what’s up? disappointed that i’m not wearing the apron?” childe exits the space separating you two, and stands dangerously close to you. “don’t worry, i can put it back on when i show you the new frosting i’m working on.” he chuckles and rubs your shoulder, the small exchange of body heat making you feel warm all over.

“a new product, huh? is this to help your family business or to compete with your siblings?” you watch him count the cash at the register with your hands tucked underneath your chin.

“sweetheart, even a guy like me can take on baking as a hobby rather than just a way to make ends meet or pick fights.” with that, he slides the cash register drawer closed. “come on, it should be processed by now.”

you slowly follow childe into the back. as promised, he puts the apron over his casual clothes, the sight rather domestic.

he dips his finger into the light pink frosting after giving it one last stir and licks it off. the sight makes you shiver and lick your own lips.

“mmm. so i guess strawberry does taste pretty good. if done right of course.”

“what made you change your mind, mr.strawberry-anti?” you smirk.

“baking is a delicacy. i was never a ‘strawberry-anti’, just wary of how it’s supposed to mesh with desserts for the sake of compliancy. i made this frosting to test it out some more, and as a special treat. for you.”

before you can receive his gesture to claim your treat, childe gives you the same glimmering look that he always uses before pulling at your heartstrings even further.

and it becomes way too much for you to handle when he leans his face closer to yours.

“here, have a taste.” childe teasingly presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. he continues to leave gentle pecks on your lips, and you let out shaky breaths every time he pulls away.

“why did you stop?” you whine and he hovers over your entire body this time, pushing your hips onto the counter.

“hm, not enough? come closer then.” you wrap your arms around his neck, this time, getting a real taste of his creation when he claims your mouth whole.

you grip onto his hair when he adds more pressure into the kiss, pulling especially harder when he nibbles on your bottom lip. as if having unlocked the key to your greatest depths, he effortlessly slides his tongue into your mouth, and you moan upon tasting the lingering strawberry flavor mixed with the feeling of your tongues connecting.

much to your dismay, you both pull away for air. your breaths mingle hotly before he coaxes you into taking a bit more for yourself. not long after you savor the sweetness, childe’s lips are back on yours. the way he sucks the cream off your lips makes your head spin, making you forget about everything else but this one boy in front of you, the mystery boy in a foreign country who sent you through a rollercoaster during only your first month of living here.

“ajax...” you breathe out his name when he lets go of your now swollen and red lips. the boy proceeds to kiss your cheek and jawline gently, laughing softly against your skin.

“i can’t help it, baby. it tastes even better on you.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #childe x reader #childe fluff #childe imagines #childe scenarios

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bluefuckboy · 3 years

Text

vampire!Dabi x m!reader

A/N: not enough Dabi x m!reader out there so here’s a contribution with a twist. Reader works at a bloodmobile donation center and receives a late night visitor...

WARNINGS: blood (obviously), non con elements, body horror, very brief references to homophobic slang, implied virgin reader, implied death,

Word Count: 4,276

“Thanks again man!”

“Yeah no problem.”

Except it was a problem. Or rather more of an annoyance, even if you were on the end shift anyway. Protocol was two people for transport back to the hospital, but your coworker was very adamant that if he didn’t get to his girlfriend’s right at 9pm then they were over. You’d neglected to ask how he “forgot.”

You were more than capable of managing the bloodmobile by yourself. It was just a little lonely since the drive back to the hospital was close to an hour. Not to mention the time it took to double check donation storage before you could even head back.

You were midway through the A- donations when you heard a knock at the door. It had been at least twenty minutes since your coworker left. It was past 9pm now and everyone at the donation event had left around seven, so you were slightly wary to go to the door.

Upon peering through the window on the door you saw nothing initially. Just the parking lot illuminated dimly. There were shadows from the trees that made strange shapes on some of the parking spaces. It made you slightly anxious, so you turned to go back to the donations when another rap sounded on the door.

This time there was a man in front of the door. He was tall and lanky, his messy black hair was tousled by the slight breeze. A cigarette was perched between long, pale fingers with black nails and what looked like tattoos that came up to the wrist. His other hand was tucked into the pocket of a trench coat, black of course, which almost reached the heavy duty combat boots he was scuffing impatiently on the pavement.

He tapped on the glass of the door with a knuckle, but didn’t look up, opting to take another drag of the cigarette while casting a bored look in the direction of a streetlight.

Your hand hovered over the door handle. You knew opening the door was probably a terrible idea, but for some reason this guy had piqued your interest. You were curious to find out what the heck he was doing in front of a mobile blood donation center at this hour of the night looking like the long lost member of My Chemical Romance.

You slowly unlocked the door to the bus and opened it a crack. The man turned around and looked up at you. His face was pale, and eerie. There were multiple piercings studded across his cheeks, and up to his ears. The lower half of his jaw was heavily tattooed, the ink winding down to his neck and disappearing below the collar of his shirt.

You cleared your throat.

“Can I help you?”

“I dunno, can you?”

The question was mocking and he ended it with a toothless smile. His tone irked you and you informed him that you were done taking donations.

His brow lowered and he mused, “Donations? I thought this was a late night food truck. I even brought my crazy straw.”

He produced an impossibly twisted black straw from the trenchcoat, holding it up for you to see. You stared at it as you tried to come up with a response.

“Sir, this is a mobile blood donation center, not a food truck.”

The man tutted his tongue and peered past you slightly. You moved to block his view of the inside of the bus. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms, taking another long drag of the cigarette and blowing the smoke a little too close to your face for it to be a mistake.

When he spoke it was almost to himself, mumbling, “I don’t know why I even bother to make conversation.” He chuckled. “And what a waste of a clever joke.”

He laughed again and then sighed, letting the cigarette dangle loosely between his fingers. You were thoroughly confused now. Your confusion turned to disgust and slight horror as he brought the cigarette back to his lips. Instead of taking another puff, he drove the still lit butt into the center of his tongue, putting it out without even batting an eye.

You gaped at him, speechlessly watching as he tossed the butt aside. He was unfazed, despite the fact that he had surely just severely burned his tongue. He was merely stretching now, as though he were getting ready for a workout.

After coming back up from a deep toe touch he quipped, “Nothing like a nice palette cleanser, hmm?”

You blinked at him, and then suddenly he was making his way up the steps casually. You put out an arm.

“Excuse me, sir, I can’t let you in.”

The statement made him laugh.

“Letting me in. How 18th Century. You’re cute.”

He made to come into the bus. You tried to stop him, but suddenly found yourself unable to move. It was like the muscles in you body were cramping all at once.

The man easily slipped past you and there was a strange sense of foreboding building as you tried to move again. Pain shot through your legs and you grit your teeth. You were able to move your eyes and found yourself staring into the face of the man as he stood in front of you.

Up close you could see the dark circles under his eyes, heavy bags that accentuated his gaunt features. His eyes were unsettling, cerulean and dangerous. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away. As you stared at them they seemed to flicker between a darker color momentarily, but it could have been a trick of the terrible lighting within the bus.

You watched as the man shut the door behind him and strolled slowly through the bus. He had his hands clasped behind his back, casually peering at the equipment as though he were looking through a library.

Upon finding the open intake box you had been sifting through, his eyebrows went up and a smile crept across his face. He knelt down in front of it and picked up an A- donation packet. He tucked it under his arm and then shuffled through the other packets as though he were looking through a collection of vinyl records.

“Any AB-?”

The question was directed at you and you were suddenly able to move your tongue again, which had felt like it was stuck to the roof of your mouth.

You tried to keep my voice steady as you said, “Sir I need you to put that down and please leave.”

He looked over at you with an amused expression, then turned back to the donations.

“I’ll take that as a no then. At least you’ve got a couple O-‘s. Always a safe bet, if a little bland.”

He sighed and then did something which would have made your jaw drop if you could have. He stabbed the crazy straw into the bag and then took a long sip of the blood. He swallowed, smacking his lips.

“Decent enough I suppose.”

He took another sip and emptied the bag, tossing it aside before moving on to the one he had tucked under his arm. All you could do was stand motionless and watch as he picked out a few more bags and sat casually on one of the donation chairs.

He propped his boots up on the chair and leaned back, sipping form a bag of B+ plus. You could feel sweat dripping down your back. Your muscles were painfully tense and you could feel fatigue setting in, but you couldn’t relax.

You tried in vain again to move and the man’s unusual eyes flicked up to you. He wiped a bit of blood clinging to his lip and sucked his thumb into his mouth. It was overtly obscene and clearly done to annoy you as he knew what he was doing was not only illegal but downright disgusting.

You could feel your legs starting to shake and were worried they might go out and send you flat on your face. Instead, you found yourself suddenly released from whatever strange force had been holding you hostage.

It was so sudden you just fell to the ground in a heap. The man laughed.

“How graceful.”

Despite the feeling of utter exhaustion that was washing over you, you were somehow able to get up and spin around to face the man. You were a bit larger than him and you needed to get him restrained before making a call to the authorities and figuring out what inventory he had decided to drink.

You moved to grab a strap from the chair he was in, quickly buckling it over the wrist that was by his side. His eyebrows went up, but he didn’t make a move to try and fight as you put the straps at the bottom of the chair over his feet so he was bound by all but the hand that held the bag he was still sipping from.

He swallowed and said, “Do I need to give you may safeword?”

Before you could snap back at him for the sexual comment, he lifted the bound arm up. The restraint broke like a piece of dental floss, snapping in half. The restraints on his feet were broken just as easily and you backed away slightly as he swung his legs over the chair and stood up.

He inspected his wrist, even though there were clearly no marks on the tattooed skin. The bag he had was tossed aside and he looked at you.

“I don’t usually prefer to play with my food, but I suppose if you want to have a little fun we could. I prefer fresh anyway.”

Before you had time to react he was grabbing you by your lab coat, swinging you onto the chair as though you weighed nothing. He practically threw you onto it and you felt you head hit the wall of the bus behind it.

“Whoops,” the man said, cracking a smile.

Your own blood went cold as he parted his lips for this smile. His canines were abnormally long, pressing into the soft flesh of his bottom lip. As you looked into his eyes, you saw they had a reddish tint to them, almost staining the blue, glinting as he leaned closer to you.

Your mind went to the tales of blood sucking monsters you’d heard growing up. But those were just stories and fairytales. This had to be some psychopath or sexual deviant who got off on a kink that had to do with bodily fluids.

The man was inches from you face and you found yourself unable to move again. You were stuck sitting in the chair sideways, your legs dangling over the edge. Your heart was racing, making blood pound in your ears.

You felt a chill run down your spine as the man leaned forward. His breath against your skin as he spoke was almost unnaturally hot.

“Sounds like a marching band, doesn’t it?”

Somehow you knew he was referring to the pounding of your blood in your ears. You felt something wet on your neck and the marching band was a cacophony of sound. His tongue was right at your pulse point.

His voice was almost a whisper.

“I’m sure you say this daily, so hopefully you won’t be too surprised. This may sting a little.”

Your eyes went wide as he suddenly sunk his teeth into the column of your neck. You could feel the two points of his canines drive deep, puncturing your skin easily. Your body spasmed as he pulled the fangs out. Blood oozed from the wound, but it was lapped up before it could drip over your collarbone.

The man went back to the gouges and this time you felt yourself jerk violently as he began sucking. A hand was suddenly on your upper thigh, then another on the opposite side of your neck, holding you there. It felt like receiving the world’s most painful hickey.

You shuddered and the hand on your thigh tightened. The man had a strong grip, and was putting just enough pressure to give a warning. Not that you could move if you wanted to. You weren’t in control of my body anymore.

You were hyper aware of each area of your body he was touching. The skin of his hand against your neck was cold, but his mouth on the other side was warm and damp. You could feel his tongue press into the holes. The sensation was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

For some reason it wasn’t pain you were feeling. There was a strange warmth spreading over the back of your neck and down your shoulders. The man pulled away from your neck for a moment. You could hear him swallow as you felt saliva and blood begin to drip onto your shirt, staining the collar of your lab coat.

He put his mouth on you again, but this time there was no sucking. Just the feeling of his tongue laving over the broken skin. It made your stomach drop and your mind began to feel foggy.

You didn’t know how much blood you’d lost. You could still hear the pounding heartbeat in your ears, but your body felt off. You must have involuntarily jerked again because the hand on your thigh slid upward, almost pressing into the dip of your pelvis.

The man must have been trying to keep you from jerking. But the feel of his thumb at the jut of your hip combined with the pressure of his long fingers around your side was making you feel strange in a different way now.

His lips against your skin was now sending heat to other areas of your body. You felt panic begin to rise in your chest. All the sensations were too much for you to handle and the lack of control over your body led to a response you hadn’t anticipated.

The man pulled back and you were mortified as he glanced down at the obvious bulge in your jeans. He raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose that explains the poor flow.”

He sighed and you could feel cold air rush into the space between him and you as he backed away. There was red at the edges of his mouth. He did a circular swipe with his tongue to lick it away and you felt your pants get even tighter.

Your cheeks were burning and you wanted to cover yourself, but you were still unable to move. The man had put a finger on the side of his face, tapping it in thought. You inhaled sharply as he suddenly swiped his thumb over the twin punctures on your neck, gathering a thick glob of blood.

He put the digit in his mouth and sucked on it in thought briefly before saying, “You humans never change.”

You were able to move your eyebrows down, relaying a confused expression to which he replied, “You’re all driven by libido. Just the slightest stimulation arouses you. It’s rather annoying actually.”

He tutted his tongue and your eyes widened as his hands were suddenly at your belt, unbuckling it deftly. He pulled you toward him, yanking off your pants. You felt your breath quicken even more. You could see your cock tenting your boxers. You wanted to disappear.

However the man had other plans. You nearly jerked off the table as he put the tip of his pointer finger on the head of your cock. He rubbed at the fabric of your boxers. You could feel they were damp.

The finger was moved to the waistband of your boxers. The man tugged them off, not being gentle as he dragged them over your flushed cock. You inhaled sharply and desperately wished you could do something, anything, to stop him as he took you in his palm.

He gripped you, musing, “I’ll never understand the hype over drinking from you virgins.”

The blush on your cheeks spread down your neck and chest and the man laughed.

“I suppose there is the thrill of seeing you come undone at the slightest touch.”

He moved his hand up slowly and thumbed over the head of your cock, which was practically dripping now. You shuddered and let out a pathetic noise as he dug the nail of his thumb into your slit.

“You’re particularity responsive,” the man said, rubbing in a slight circular motion, “Do you perhaps, hmm, what do they call it these days? Bat for the other team?”

The man gave you a ornery smile. You couldn’t say anything. Your tongue was stuck pressed up against your bottom teeth. Even if you could speak it was a subject you didn’t want to talk about, especially with some random psychopath.

However said psychopath was now bending down, pushing your legs further apart, saying, “If you swing that way then perhaps you haven’t found yourself a catcher.” His hooded eyes glanced up at you briefly before he continued in a lower voice, “Or maybe it’s a pitcher you’re looking for, hmm?”

Your whole body spasmed violently as he brushed the pad of his thumb over your asshole. His slang was outdated and embarrassing, but it was obvious he was experienced. The thought excited you more for some reason.

The man grinned and suddenly you were able to move. You gasped loudly as your mouth dropped open. The spit that you hadn’t bee able to swallow dribbled down your chin and you grabbed the edge of the chair to keep myself from tipping over.

You glanced down at the man and was met with a sultry gaze, combined with a vulpine smile. You tried to bring a hand up to push him off, but you had no strength. It was taking nearly all of your energy to try and lean forward and close your legs to try and cover yourself.

He brought the hand not on your cock up to your torso, pushing your shirt up. His fingertips were like ice against your heated skin and you couldn’t resist him as he lightly pushed you so you were lying on your back, legs parted, completely exposed.

You gasped as you felt the man take your cock in his mouth. There was no warning, no tongue teasing beforehand, just the tightening of his throat around you as he took all of your cock in.

Your nails dug into the cheap leather of the donation chair as he pulled off, switching to sucking on the head of your cock while chilled fingers made their way down to cup your balls. You shuddered and then cried out as you felt a finger ghost over your entrance.

The man’s wet maw was on you again, saliva dripping down your shaft as he teased you. You whined slightly as he leaned back after sucking half of you for a brief moment. He was looking at you with lewd curiosity.

You were surprised as he leaned forward so your faces were inches apart. His eyes were definitely tinged red now and his features seemed sharper, the angles more prominent. You gaped at him and then cried out in pain as he suddenly bit you again.

It was a different spot, closer to the junction of your collarbone and neck. The bite was harder, but for some reason the pain was arousing now. He pulled back and you didn’t have time to react as you felt his mouth on yours.

His lips were cold, but everything else was hot. You could taste the copper tang of your own blood in your mouth as he snaked his tongue sinfully past your lips. His fangs tested your bottom lip for a moment before he started kissing you so forcefully it felt like he was trying to devour you.

When you finally parted you were gasping for air. Blood and spit were dribbling down your chin and you could see saliva dripping from the man’s fangs as he gave you a feral smile. Then his hand was cupping your chin, his thumb dragging your bottom lip down.

His voice was husky as he said, “It seems you’re enjoying yourself.” He yanked your face toward him. “Unfortunately I can’t finish eating until we can take care of this it seems.”

As he spoke he pumped your cock a few times, making you squirm under him. He smiled and then you were gagging as he stuck two fingers into your mouth.

“I’ll let you do the sucking for a while,” the man said.

His expression made you nervous so you obediently began sucking, despite the humiliation you felt each time you heard the squelch of spit. When he was satisfied with the amount of your spit he’d gathered on his fingers, he pulled them out abruptly.

He moved his hand below your waist and you jumped as a slicked finger nudged at your hole. The man’s mouth was back on the new bite and it felt like your body was going numb. You could feel him suck at your neck as he pressed a finger into you.

You’d never tried any anal play before, so the feeling of someone pushing their finger into your asshole was so foreign you instinctively jerked away. The finger slid out and the sensation made you shudder.

You shut your eyes and hoped that you might have lost enough blood to pass out. But you could feel every sensation as the man’s finger entered you again. He was relentless in his sucking and now you were beginning to feel dizzy.

Your mind was hazy and when you came back to yourself the man had worked two fingers into you. He curled them upward and you felt like you’d been struck by electricity. It was pleasurable and you could feel more precum drip from your cock as he moved his fingers inside of you.

The man’s other hand was suddenly on your cock, putting pressure in just the right area. He twisted his fingers as he pumped you slowly. It was too much and you cummed so hard you saw white.

Your ears were buzzing and the room was spinning. It felt like you were having an out of body experience, especially as you felt the man’s wet tongue tracing down your abdomen. You couldn’t lift your head to look, but you could feel as he swirled his tongue against your skin.

The wet sensation was gone and you heard him say, “I wonder what the police will come up with as an explanation? After all accidents do happen, but certainly they’ll have never seen a scene like this.”

You felt his nails sink into your thighs. They were abnormally sharp and you cried out. The man retracted his right hand and his face came into view, going in and out of focus as you tried to stay conscious. He caressed your cheek briefly and then the nails which were more like claws, were digging into your scalp.

The man forced your head back and kissed you again. This time the fangs that nipped at your bottom lip drew blood. It rushed into your mouth when he pulled away. There was red dripping down his chin and his fangs glinted as he licked them.

He placed an almost chaste kiss to your bloody lips. When he spoke his voice was almost a hiss, hot air just ghosting over your mouth.

“Such a shame really. A young man with his whole life ahead of him. Oh well. At least we were able to have some fun though, hmm?”

He pulled back enough for your eyes to focus on his face. His eyes were clearly red now, just like the blood that was smeared over his face. The sight was horrific and you felt sick.

Red tinged saliva dripped from his fangs as he opened his mouth to say, “My condolences.”

At those words you closed my eyes and braced yourself. Of course he was going to finish you off. There was no way he’d let you live. If he truly was a vampire like the legends of old, you knew far too much now. Plus you were nothing more than another meal.

You felt his nails rake down your thighs and then he bit into your inner leg. You could hear a scream echo in your foggy mind and you assumed it must have been your own. The man clenched his jaw with so much force, a terrible, wet crunch rang in the air.

He’d gone for your femoral artery. You only knew of it because you had studied it, browsed the pages and diagrams, reading how long it took to die after it had been severed. Was it a minute? Less?

You could feel your heartbeat becoming irregular. Blood, your blood, was seeping into the material of your jeans and your vision was beginning to go dark. What little feeling you still had in your body sent shooting pain through your leg and pelvis. The horrifying crunch must have been one of your bones.

Your vision blurred and for some reason your mind recalled the man’s question earlier regarding the blood types you’d gotten donations of for that day. AB- was what he’d asked for. It so happened that you were AB-, a fact you’re sure he found out as soon as he sunk his teeth into you. He’d gotten what he was looking for after all.

As the world faded away completely, you wondered if it was a cruel irony or almost poetic.

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x m!reader #vampire!dabi #vampire dabi #dabi smut #dabi x you #dabi x male reader

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neonacity · 3 years

Text

HYACINTHE | Chapter 2: Jaemin x Reader

Summary:

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal.

There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. tw: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader

CHAPTER 1

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

------------------------

"So you want to be a doctor?" Jaemin asked as he took a bite off the crust of his pepperoni and cheese pizza. He could have easily eaten it like any other person, but of course, he refuses to be normal and chooses to do even this his way.

I shrugged and tucked my legs under me with a sigh. We were currently sitting on an expansive field of grass overlooking a cluster of abandoned factories, the first place that Jaemin actually asked me to hangout with other than his regular visits in the cafe. It was a couple of minutes of drive away from the city—and is honestly kinda sketchy looking—but at twilight, the place transforms into a peaceful sea of green with the clear night sky watching over it.

"I'm trying to be a doctor. A surgeon, to be exact."

He turned and gazed at me quietly for a few seconds, his slice of pizza halfway into his mouth.

"Trying?"

"Yes. Getting into the medical field… It's tough. And expensive. I can take the endless studying, but the money… that can be so hard to get by sometimes."

"Why? How much is it?" He asked innocently, a small frown etched between his eyebrows. Jaemin wasn't lying when he said he doesn't know how to do friends. In fact, there's a lot of things he doesn't seem to know. Normal ones too, almost as if he lives in a bubble of his own. It has always intrigued me, how someone can be so out of touch with things, but of course I never took it against him.

"Hmm… really expensive. Usually students like me can get loans but that will have us strapped into long years of paying them off even after finishing our studies. I did get a partial scholarship though so that helps, but the day to day academic expenses are just expensive so you know…"

"Doesn't your job at the cafe cover that?"

"No way," I answered quickly with a short laugh. "Well, barely. But it isn't comfortable. If I want to get a side gig that can pay for everything, I might as well work at a strip club. Or find a sugar daddy," I answered off-handedly as I popped a french fry into my mouth.

"You don't want to go to strip clubs. They're dangerous."

I choked a little at how seriously he said that.

"Why do you sound like you know so much about them?" I grinned and teasingly wriggled my brows at him. He didn't answer, taking another bite of his pizza instead.

"Just… don't even think of doing that, okay?"

"Jaemin, do you really think I can pass off as a stripper? Relax. I know that's one job I'm underqualified for."

"Overqualified. You're too pretty to be one."

He said that so casually I didn't even know what hit me until he had moved on to another topic.

"You know if you need money, I can help."

I gave him an odd look, still reeling from that compliment he just gave.

"How?"

"I can give you money."

I blinked at him.

"In exchange for what?"

"Nothing. I can just give you money."

I stared at him like he had grown another head.

"Why?"

He looked at me like I was asking such a common sense question.

"Because you need it."

"Jaemin, you're not my sugar daddy. Is this how you always offer help to your friends? Because I am seriously so concerned for you right now."

"Well, if you want, I can also be your sugar—"

I slapped his arm before he could even finish what he was trying to say.

"Ow! That is not very sugar baby-like of you."

"I'm going to wring your neck, I swear."

He flashed me his grin and dropped himself back on the grass, his arms behind his head. It was dark, but the moon threw just enough light on the curves of his face to compliment his features. His eyes twinkled back at the stars looking down on us and I forced myself to look away after realizing how much my heart started beating harder in my chest just by staring at him.

I don't know when I started feeling this way towards him, but it is for sure not the first time I noticed where my emotions were going. It is odd… how these things happen. One day everything was going well like normal, until all of a sudden there is a skipping of a pulse after a smile, a flushing of the cheeks when he laughs. Everything is normal, until one day, it's all just free fall.

Of course, I'm not stupid enough to do anything about it though. Jaemin has been nothing but a good friend, but the fact that I still know nothing about him is a big factor, at least for me. Lately, I felt like he was trying to open up more of his world to me—case in point, these quick escapes to this field—but there are still barriers there, walls that seem too steep to be broken down.

"I wanted to be a surgeon too…"

His voice was so quiet that I barely caught it when he spoke again. I looked back at him and caught the pensive look on his face, the same one he would always have whenever he thinks nobody is looking his way—that expression of longing that seems to overwhelm him every time he retreats into his own world.

"You can still be one though… it's not too late yet," I whispered as I leaned back so that I was laying beside him. I rolled to my side to face him better, my eyes scanning his moon-washed features.

He chuckled and briefly looked at me.

"I wish it could be that easy, but it's really complicated."

"Why?"

He rolled on his side as well so that we were facing each other. The stare he gave me was so intense, it felt like he was pouring his heart out to me, except he can't do it with words. I tried my hardest to meet his gaze, my own way of telling him that he can if he wanted to... That I am his safe space.

"Didn't we agree on not asking questions?" He asked in a soft whisper.

"I never agreed to such a thing."

"But you've been trying your best."

That made me purse my lips. My gaze moved away from his momentarily as I tried to weigh my words.

"Until when can I not ask questions…?"

"Until when can I ask you to do it without you leaving me…?"

Our eyes met again. In that exact moment, I knew we were both on the same page despite the unsaid words and the secrets.

"Until I can, Jaemin."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

------------------

"Hi, hi! What's your specialty here?"

It took me about three seconds to register the boy currently beaming at me by the counter. I was going through some inventory so I had my back turned to the door for a little bit but I sure was expecting to hear the small bell by the entrance ding to alert me of new customers. I was about to open my mouth to answer when another boy strolled towards us, coming from the area where we have our pastries on display. There were… two of them I didn't notice?

"Yah, Chenle. They have cheese bread. Buy me some."

I softly cleared my throat and tried to plaster on my well-practiced service smile.

"Um… hi. Welcome to Brick and Beans. Would you like to have a cold or hot drink? I can recommend our best-sellers for each."

"What does Jaemin-hyung usually order?"

My smile dropped and I stared at the duo in front of me. Who are these kids?

"I'm Jisung and this is Chenle. We're Jaemin-hyung's friends."

The taller of the two answered as he seemed to have picked up my confused expression. I nodded slowly, my eyes scanning the visitors. They look just a little bit younger than Jaemin, maybe about two to three years tops, as noticeable from their more careless, youthful air.

"Did… Jaemin recommend our place?"

The pair exchanged glances before they both broke into giggles.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"What the hell are you two doing here?”

The three of us whipped our heads towards the source of the voice by the door. Standing there was Jaemin, his face tensed as he stared at the two boys in front of me. It’s obvious from the looks of his reaction that he did not, at all, recommend this place to his friends.

I was about to call out to him when the door pushed open behind him again to reveal two other boys.

“Yah… I told you to distract him, Jeno-hyung!” Chenle whined while Jisung pointed at his friend as if silently telling everyone that it was all his idea in the first place. The one I assume is called Jeno shrugged and dug his hands deeper into his pockets. He looked almost the same age as Jaemin but with a more muscular build that reminded me of some of the athletes at my uni.

“I tried. Haechan slipped. Go blame him.”

My gaze moved to the other one standing on Jaemin’s right at that moment. He is a little shorter than the other two boys crowding the door but there is something about him that seems wilder than the two. His eyes sparkled as they met mine and his lips twisted up into a slight smirk as he knocked back the lollipop he had into the other side of his mouth. He crossed the space between the entrance and the counter quickly with long quick strides and leaned his hand into Chenle’s shoulder to peer down on me.

“Ah, so that’s why this is your favorite place, Jaem. How selfish of you to keep it all to yourself~”

“Um…”

Jaemin finally moved to approach us quickly, his eyes moving between me and the three boys in front of my counter. The boy called Jeno wandered into the cafe, looking at the bags of beans and tea packs we have on display at the far side.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea they were coming,” he told me apologetically, his face strained. I couldn’t really understand why he was so worried but I gave him a smile to assure him that everything is fine.

“Hey, it’s okay. I have no customers anyway so I’m glad your friends came over.”

I have a feeling there is more to his anxiousness than I could understand.

“She’s right. We’re just here to have some coffee,” the boy, Haechan, said as he winked at me. “So what do you recommend, miss? I won’t have anything Jaemin loves to get, if it means having his death concoction.

That made me laugh a bit. Jaemin’s frown deepened.

“Well, we have really good Chia tea and some hot chocolate. Our cocoa is sourced from the Philippines so—”

“According to online reviews, their blueberry cheesecake is bomb,” said a new voice that followed the opening of the cafe door for the third time in the past ten minutes. All of us looked around to see a new visitor with black and blonde hair falling over his eyes. His thin frame was covered by a light jacket and he glanced up from his phone to talk to us as if he was right there with us from the beginning.

“Do you have it right now?”

“Uh… yes.”

“Seriously, who else did you crackheads invite?”

Jaemin turned to Haechan and the rest of the guys with an expression I couldn’t quite paint.

His answer came with the cafe door dinging open again.

“Yo, man. Am I late?”

Jaemin gave one look at the boy with blue hair, groaned, and cursed silently to himself.

-----------

“Go back there and hangout with your friends,” I nudged Jaemin slightly by the shoulders as he continued to fume silently beside me. I was finishing the orders of the group and he seemed to still be adamant in keeping his distance from them for as long as he can.

“I don’t hangout with assholes.”

I chuckled. He looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Hey, language. Why are you so pressed, anyway? They just came by to visit. I’m glad I have customers.”

For a moment, I thought he was not going to give me any answers again. Jaemin simply stared at me, his arms crossed over his chest for a few full heartbeats.

“I don’t think I should get you any deeper into my life as it is,” he finally said quietly, voice just loud enough for me to hear over the humming of the espresso machine. I looked up at him, surprised by his words and the fact that he actually replied to my question.

“I suppose I cannot ask what that means…?”

He gave me a small tight smile. Just then, the microwave beeped to tell me that the food I was heating was ready. We both looked at it and Jaemin took the chance to push himself off the counter he was leaning on to grab a tray.

“I’ll take care of it. We’re making your job harder today, at least let me help serve those dorks.”

I nodded and wordlessly let him put some of the drinks on his tray. I did the finishing touches on the blueberry cheesecake the guy called Renjun ordered before loading it on mine.

When we both walked to the table that the rest of his friends chose, the boys had already busted the jenga game that we usually offer to our customers. Jisung, Chenle, and Haechan were in the middle of sabotaging each other with their pulls while Renjun and Mark—the last newcomer—were peering over Jeno’s shoulder who I assume was playing a game on his phone.

“Here are your orders. I added extra powdered sugar on your chiffon cake, Jisung,” I said with a smile as I arranged everything on their table. The youngest boy looked up at me with sparkling eyes as if I’ve given him the world. The others took their orders after giving their own variations of thank you.

“Thank you, noona,” Jisung said before turning to Haechan to “whisper” in his ear.

“I like her.”

“She can hear you as clear as day, Jisungie.”

“Well, if you need anything, just call out to me alright?” I said with a polite smile, already feeling a little bit more relaxed around the group. I’m sure Jaemin has his own reasons to feel anxious about his friends being here, but they all seem like your regular boys to me. I’ve always wondered what kinds of acquaintances he has and I’m glad to know these are the ones he has around.

“Wait, can’t you hang out for a while?” Haechan asked as I took the trays with me. Jaemin was quick to answer, throwing dagger glances at the other.

“She has work.”

“There are no customers.”

“You can go back if someone comes. You’re only serving us right now, anyway,” Renjun quipped as he took a bite of his cake. My eyes moved to Jaemin just in time to see his jaw tighten a little bit. He did look a little bit resigned though so I decided to compromise.

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes. I haven’t had my break yet,” I said with a slight smile. Mark patted Jeno’s thigh to give way for me to sit on the space where he had his leg up.

“So, are you and Jaemin-hyung dating? For how long now?” My ass haven’t even touched the seat yet when Chenle shot the question. I looked at him, completely taken aback.

“Chenle, you don’t just ask people that out of the blue,” Mark said, despite the small playful smirk that he tried so hard to hide. He turned to me apologetically then, “I’m sorry, he doesn’t go out often.”

I was too taken aback that I failed to notice how Jaemin didn’t even try to deny Chenle’s assumption. I glossed over it and chose to take another route instead.

“Do you guys all live together?” I asked with genuine interest. Jaemin did say that he doesn’t get a lot of chance to socialize but it seems like it applies to all his friends, too.

“We all live in the...same apartment, yes,” Jeno said carefully.

“Oh… roommates.”

“We grew up together, actually,” Renjun pointed at Jisung who had his upper lip covered with powdered sugar as he shoveled cake into his mouth. “Jaemin birthed him.”

“That’s right,” Jaemin said so seriously with a straight face beside me.

“So you’re also childhood friends.”

“I guess you could say that. Chenle and I both came from China but we grew up here.”

I nodded, already invested in knowing more.

“Are you studying? Or are you always here?” Haechan asked me as he deftly removed a block from the Jenga tower he had reassembled.

“Mm, yes. I’m on pre-med right now.”

Jeno gave a low whistle and lowered his phone a bit to look at me.

“You’re going to be a doctor?”

I smiled. “Hopefully a surgeon, yes.”

“So does that mean you’ll be stitching up wounds and getting bullets off flesh and things like that?” Chenle asked. I laughed at how specific the situations he gave were.

“I can actually do them right now, but yes. My father used to be a doctor too and I helped him around his clinic before he died so I know the basics.”

“I didn’t know about that…” Jaemin spoke up beside me in a quiet voice, breaking his silence.

“About what?”

“About your parents.”

I laughed. “You never asked.”

“So are you living alone?” Mark followed through.

“Right now, yes. I lost my parents a couple of years ago but I do have an auntie living right in the next city.”

“Man, so you’re working and studying at the same time. You’re tough.”

“Thank you, but it’s not really anything new to college students like me. How about you guys? Are you in college?”

The boys exchanged quick looks with each other.

“We’re all, uh, home schooled,” Renjun finally answered.

“Oh… I see. That makes a lot of sense.” Just then, my eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. I started slightly after realizing that my fifteen minutes of break is up.

“I have to go though, sorry. I’m alone right now so I have to work on multiple things,” I said apologetically as I picked myself up from my seat. I gave everyone a quick smile before retreating behind the counter.

I didn’t look back to see how Jaemin stared at me as I left and how he finally caught Mark who was staring at him in return.

The two boys didn’t have to speak to understand each other, but the younger one easily got what his captain clearly told him with his gentle gaze.

Be careful.

----

Chapter 3

126 notes · View notes

fallout4reactsblog · 3 years

Note

What if a sole survivor that’s a teenager(like 14-16 years old) begins to view the companions and faction leaders as parental figures, before slipping up and accidentally calling them “mom” or “dad”? Just a thought.

Ada: “Ah, shit.”

Sole patted themself down, checking their pockets, before sighing. “I knew I should’ve taken the time to skin those mole rats.”

“Is something missing?”

Curious, Ada leaned over to check the project they were working on. They slid to the side to accomodate her.

“I just don’t have enough leather to finish my armor mods. I wanted to put some pockets in my chestplate so I could carry a couple extra rolls of duct tape, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Leather?”

She checked back through her mental inventory, sizing up what she was carrying. Enamel bucket, ashtrays, pack of cigarettes...

“Ah, here we are.” She pulled out a baseball glove and handed it over. “Will this suffice?”

“Oh, yeah, this is perfect!” They beamed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime.”

If either of them noticed sole’s little slip-up, neither of them said a thing.

Cait: Sole reminded her too much of herself, some days. She knew their jaded expression, their thousand-yard stare, the haunted look of a kid who’d seen more than they should have. She knew more about them than they’d probably like, which was how she knew to stop them before they could do something they’d regret in the long run.

“No chems,” she said, plucking the canister of X-Cell out of their hands before they could get too close a look at it. It still felt dusty from its years laying in a Concord Speakeasy, and she wiped her hand on her pants.

“I know,” they huffed, rocking back on their heels. “I was just looking.”

“Well, don’t.” She tucked it into a back pocket, making a mental note to either toss it in the closest river or sell it first chance she got.

“It’s not like anything bad can happen from just looking at it, Cait. I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“You better not have been. If you start doin’ that shite-”

“I know.” Somehow, their tone remained patient. “I promised I wouldn’t do chems, and I won’t, okay, Mom?”

The breath left her like she’d been sucker punched. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, eyes wide, unable to form a thought, much less words. Was it really like that? Had she really let things go this far? How long until she ended up like-

“I mean, uh, Cait.”

She glanced up to see their face beginning to turn red, and they ducked their head.

“Sorry, it just slipped out. I don’t, I mean, I didn’t-” They huffed. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to be a parent or anything, and I don’t mean that you should, I just...”

They prattled on nervously, as if trying to comfort both of them, words going right past Cait’s head. To think sole thought of her as a mother. She couldn’t have that responsibility. Her parents had been trusted with a child, and look how she’d turned out. She couldn’t take that risk, not with sole, not when at any moment some switch could flip inside her and she’d turn into the monsters that had raised her.

She’d known this was a bad idea, right from the start.

Codsworth: “I was thinking about putting another mod on my pistol today,” they said, hunched over the kitchen table. They were poking at some circuit board or another, something that they’d never have been allowed to touch before the war. He eyed the screwdriver in their hands warily.

“A fine idea,” he said, resigning himself once again to the fact that a new world meant a new way of life for mum and sir’s child. “Perhaps a larger magazine?”

They chewed their lower lip thoughtfully, tightening a screw. “I was thinking something more quick-eject, you know? Speed in battle and all.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“The only reason I hadn’t done it was I needed some more adhesive. But since Carla stopped by again and she had some duct tape, we should be set.”

“As I recall, Miss Carla had more than enough for an extra set of sights as well. You asked me to remind you when you had enough material for a large scope, and by my measure, you should be there now.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” They nodded thoughtfully. “We can get that old hunting rifle in working order again. Thanks, Dad.”

He froze. Dad? Him? No, that wasn’t right. But they’d said it so casually, as if they hadn’t even realized they were saying it. Surely, they couldn’t have forgotten sir already. They’d had years with him as their father. Such things couldn’t be forgotten so easily.

“Sole.” He tried not to make his tone sound warning.

They, too, seemed to have realized what they’d said, ears beginning to turn red. “Sorry, Codsworth. I was just working and not thinking about it, and-”

“It’s alright. Such slip-ups happen, after all! We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t become a habit. After all, I’m simply the family Mr. Handy. Hardly a father. I wouldn’t want to take sir’s place.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

“No need for apologies! We’ll simply call this a learning moment, for both of us.”

They sighed, “Sounds fair,” and returned to their work.

Curie: “You have your stimpaks, yes?”

They patted a pocket. “Got ‘em right here.”

“And your bandages?”

“In my bag.”

“Extra ammunition?”

They sighed. “Stop fussing, Mom. I told you, I’ve got everything I need.”

She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. That was certainly an... interesting choice of words.

“You see me as a maternal figure?”

“What?” They adjusted the straps on their bag, refusing to make eye contact.

“You referred to me as your mother. I am simply curious when you began to perceive me in such a role.”

“I don’t.” Their cheeks flushed, and they turned away further. “I didn’t call you ‘Mom,’ either.”

“Oh, but there is no need to be embarrassed! It is only natural for such things to happen. Your brain is still maturing, and as the primary provider of such maternal care in your life, it is predictable that you would-”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” They turned hastily to the door. “I’ll see you in a few days, Curie.”

“Certainly. Au revoir.”

As she watched their retreating back, she let herself consider the happy hum in her chest. Did she want to be sole’s mother? Was it that she wanted to be their mother specifically, or was there simply a general maternal instinct that was now surfacing? It was intriguing that such an instinct could exist in her, since she could never have children, but perhaps there was some lingering Ms. Nanny instinct that was affecting her. No matter what, it was certainly interesting.

If sole saw her as a maternal figure, she’d do her best to provide.

Danse: He found sole leaning against a wall, panting. There was blood splattered across their armor, gun dangling loosely from their fingers, but they were smiling, which was good enough for him.

“You look exhausted,” he said.

They laughed a little and smeared some of the blood from their cheek. “That was quite the fight. We should’ve brought some backup, huh?”

He glanced over at the scribe Quinlan had sent along, who had been of even less use than he’d expected, but decided to let that go and focus on sole. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You fared quite well on your own, and for your level of training your performance was impressive.”

Their eyes flicked over to meet his. “For real?”

“I would never lie to you, especially in your field evaluation. You’ve come a long way.”

He caught a hint of their smile before they ducked their head. “Thanks, Dad.”

He paused, sucking in a breath. While it wasn’t an uncommon mistake, it wasn’t one he was exactly willing to overlook. Still, best to approach things tactfully to avoid embarrassment for them. “What was that?”

They wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What was what?”

The scribe, tapping at the terminal, decided that was his moment to be useful. “You called Paladin Danse ‘Dad.’”

“No, I didn’t. I said, ‘Thanks, Danse.’”

He allowed himself a smile. “I didn’t know you saw me as a father figure, sole.”

“I don’t.” Still, their flush of embarrassment betrayed them.

He waved a hand through the air. “It’s alright, Knight. You wouldn’t be the first to refer to their sponsor as Mom or Dad, and I sincerely doubt you’ll be the last.”

Really, they were a good kid. Young initiates usually tended to find a substitute parental figure in the ranks, and of all sole’s options, he was glad it was him. He could keep them on the right track, make sure they didn’t go astray. With any luck, they could probably take his position someday.

All in all, this was a good thing for both of them.

Deacon: “Deeks, how does this jacket look on me?”

He glanced up from the hats in Fallon’s Basement to see sole tugging on the sleeves of a leather jacket. It was a bit rough around the edges, but it was just worn enough that he could believe it had seen some action. It wasn’t really their style, though; Agent Whisper tended more toward a softer kind of spy work, based more on charisma and less on punching people in the face.

“I like it,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “It’s a new look for you.”

“I was thinking I should add a more badass disguise to my collection. Try for that intimidation factor every once in a while, you know?”

He tossed the idea around a moment before agreeing. “We could make it work. It’d need practice, though, and some other accessories.”

“We could go get a bat from Mo while we’re here.”

“Now you’re talking. You put a couple nails in that sucker, and boom. You’re halfway to badass city right there. We’ll just have to teach you how to actually use it so you don’t stab yourself by accident.”

“Yeah, sure, but you’ll teach me, right, Dad?”

He nearly choked. Shit. Did sole know something he didn’t? No, that couldn’t be true. He’d never had kids, despite how much Barbara wanted them. Plus, sole had known their father. He’d seen the body, still half in cryo in 111.

That left the fact that sole had come to see him as a father figure, which left him in the awkward position of either shutting that down, probably hurting their feelings in the process, or just letting it slide. But could he even consider the latter? He couldn’t be a father, not in this state. He couldn’t lie every other word and still consider himself a decent parental influence, now could he?

Still, that voice in the back of his head nagged, “Barbara would want you to say yes. She thought you’d be a good dad.”

“Deeks?”

They looked at him quizzically, obviously still looking for an answer.

He sighed and, just this once, gave in. “Sure, kid. I’ll teach you how. It’s not that much different from their intended use, really...”

Desdemona: She always had a certain fondness for sole’s reports. She never got to hear much about the missions, just a quick affirmation of success and not much else. Sole, though, sole always told her a story, starting from the beginning and highlighting anything that they thought was interesting.

“But, you know, they’re just raiders,” they said, twenty-some minutes after they’d started. “In the end, H2 got where he needed to go. Highrise will take it from here.”

She smiled and ruffled their hair, making them laugh. “Good work, agent. You’re making all of us proud.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

They froze immediately, realizing what they had said, but their moment of embarrassment was cut short by Tom’s sigh of relief.

“Finally! You know how long we’ve been waiting for this? You took so long to join the club.”

Glory caught sole’s look of confusion and added, “Everyone calls Dez ‘Mom’ at some point. It’s basically a rite of passage.”

They looked to Dez for affirmation, and she could only nod.

“It’s true. It happens to everyone, sooner or later. I’m more than used to it by now.”

“You sure?” they asked, voice still hesitant.

“Positive. The only one that hasn’t is PAM, and she doesn’t have the capability.”

“Give her time,” Tom said. “She’ll get there.”

Gage: “You’re being stupid,” he snarled.

They glared back with surprising intensity. “You’re being a prick. You said yourself, I’m the Overboss. Things go how I want them to.”

How they’d managed that little trick, he didn’t know, but he hated it more and more every day. “Bein’ the Overboss doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to anyone. You’re still new here. You better show me some respect.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dad,” they snapped.

That only pissed him off more. “What did you just call me, you little shit?”

They blinked, anger seeming to cool for a second. “Gage. What else?”

“No, you called me Dad.” His temper settled in return, hovering at a simmer. “Like this is some sort of family reunion or some shit.”

They snorted. “As if.”

“Don’t try and take it back now. I heard you.”

“You’re old and losing your hearing. Old fucker.”

His temper flared again, and despite that he knew they were baiting him, he couldn’t resist. “What was that?”

“What, I need to enunciate everything for you? Do you need your hearing aids, Grandpa?”

“What the fuck is a hearing aid?”

“What do you think, dumbass? It lets you hear better when you get old and lose your hearing. Like you.”

A knock on the door interrupted what he was going to say, and he snapped his mouth closed with irritation.

“Overboss?” The voice was muffled through the door. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” They dusted their hands on their pants, anger instantly melting into a mask of cold determination. “Come on, Gage. Work to do.”

He huffed and resolved they would finish this later.

Hancock: He was always impressed with how well sole handled Goodneighbor. It went to show that they were much tougher than their age and pre-war softness let on; that this kid who looked like they’d never even handled a gun would shoot you without question if threatened. He’d seen how they’d handled Finn.

“Cold today,” they said, blowing into their hands. “This wind is killer. You wanna head inside and check up on things while I barter here?”

They gestured in the general direction of KLEO’s shop, and he chuckled.

“I dunno. Maybe the big, bad mayor better stick around to make sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble.”

They rolled their eyes. “Come on, Dad. I can handle myself, you know.”

They realized their mistake before he did, eyes widening, jaw snapping shut. He faltered, snappy words dying in his mouth before he got hold of himself again. Dad? Were they kidding? Their face said they weren’t.

“Woah, now.” He held up his hands. “It ain’t like that, kid. I’m not exactly the fatherly type, y’know. Cool uncle, maybe, but I ain’t anybody’s Dad.”

They huffed, clearly embarrassed, and diverted him by saying, “Bet you’ve been more than one somebody’s Daddy, though.”

“That’s more like it.” He nudged them in KLEO’s direction. “You go do your shopping, and I’ll go make sure they ain’t burnin’ down my town while I’m away.”

“Sure. If I’m not here when you get back, I’ll be in Hotel Rexford.”

“Sounds fine. Get me somethin’ nice while you’re at it, huh?”

“Alright, but I’m charging you a convenience fee.”

Content that they were back on the same page, he agreed and went to find Fahrenheit.

MacCready: “Your fever’s gone down a little.” He rested a hand against their forehead. “Seems you’re gonna pull through.”

They smiled a little, eyes still hazy with sickness and medicine. Soon, they’d be on their feet again, he hoped.

“I bet you’re a good dad, Mac,” they said. “Duncan must really love you, huh?”

He let out a sigh. Sole had been strangely emotional ever since they got sick, which had annoyed him at first, but lately he’d just come to accept it. After all, there wasn’t much he could do about it, was there?

“Jeez, I don’t even know if he remembers me. It’s been a while since I got to see him.”

“He remembers you. I mean, I remember my dad, and he’s been dead for a couple hundred years now, I guess.” They laughed a little, as if they’d said something funny. “But you should go see him. Take a break. I’ll be fine without you.”

“Nah, we’ll go together. After all, he’ll probably want to meet you.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. He’ll probably see you as some kind of adopted older sibling or something. You’ll get along.”

They exhaustion in their laugh betrayed them. “Sure, whatever you say, Dad.”

There was a wryness in their voice, an almost mocking note that told him they’d meant it as a joke, but long after they’d fallen asleep, he sat at their bedside, watching them. He’d thought he was joking, too, but now that he was along with his thoughts, he had to wonder. Maybe he did want them to meet Duncan, and maybe he did want them to get along like siblings. Could he do that? Was that wrong?

He sighed and rose from his chair. No use worrying about it now. Sole had probably been joking about him going to DC anyway. After all, there was work to be done here.

They definitely weren’t going anywhere until they were better, though. For now, he had to focus on making sure they pulled through.

Maxson: He watched them across the table as they studied the map of the Commonwealth spread between them. It was a crude battle plan, mostly consisting of bottlecaps and buttons, but it was enough for them to discuss. He found he was regularly impressed by their knowledge in this area; in many ways, they reminded him of himself at that age.

“What if we swung south?” They pushed three bottlecaps across the table. “The way C.I.T is set up makes anything but a direct assault difficult, but we could try to split their forces, or at least their fire.”

He hummed, considering. “You’re still assuming we can’t assemble Prime in time.”

“Right. I’m concerned they’ll force our hand before we’re ready. We need to be prepared for that.”

“If you hope to split their fire, we’ll have to split our forces. That means we’ll need more men overall and be pulling more away from the airport, leaving us vulnerable.”

They scrunched their face as they thought about it. “You’re right, but in these circumstances we’re already at a disadvantage, don’t you think? We’re outgunned and outmanned.”

“Both of which can be overcome by outplanning them.” He leaned back in his chair. “What you lack in physical strength can often be overcome with mental acuity.”

They glanced away from the diorama to look at him. “That’s pretty good advice. Nice one, Dad.”

He felt his heart skip a beat. They had already returned to the diorama, now considering the forces around the airport, but he suddenly couldn’t focus. Sole considered him a father figure. Did he mean that much to them that he was someone they looked to for guidance, not just on the Prydwen, but in all aspects of their life? To be a father to them, to be able to guide them, was more than he could have ever asked for.

He cleared his throat. “I believe you mean ‘Elder,’ Knight.”

“Hm?” They looked up again.

“You referred to me as something else. I’m reminding you that the proper title is ‘Elder.’“

“Oh. My apologies, Elder. It won’t happen again.”

He sighed. “I ask that you’re careful around the others. That is all.”

They nodded, mind clearly already on other things.

Nick: He watched them poke around Earl Sterling’s apartment, careful eyes taking everything in. He lingered by the doorway, letting them do their thing, curious to see how it would play out. He was taking a bit of a risk letting them work the case, but he figured he could clean up any mistakes they made along the way.

Mistake number one was probably letting them pick up all those beers, but he figured as long as he watched them sell them all, it would be fine.

“Aha!”

Triumphant, they emerged from where they had crouched on the floor, brandishing a piece of paper.

“Find somethin’?” He flicked his cigarette to the side, nudging it out with the toe of his boot.

“Some sort of receipt, I think. Facial reconstruction with Dr. Crocker. Appointment date... should have been sometime around his disappearance.”

“That means ol’ Doc could’ve been the last to see Earl alive.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Good work, kid.”

They flushed with pride and perhaps a bit of embarrassment at the praise. “Thanks, Dad.”

He raised an eyebrow, hoping they would realize their mistake on their own, but they were busy tucking the receipt into their bag. It seemed as though they hadn’t noticed at all, and after a moment of thought, he decided not to mention it. After all, there was no need to embarrass them. They’d realize what they’d said eventually.

Plus, it was kind of nice, in a way.

Piper: “You’ve got ink on your face.”

Sole glanced up from the freshly-printed edition of the paper, fingers wandering to their cheekbone. “Here?”

“Little to the left.”

“Here?”

“Less to the left.”

“Here?”

“Oh, just hold still.”

She leaned over, wiping the ink off their cheek with her thumb. It smeared a little bit, but was a marked improvement, and she scrubbed the rest away with the heel of her glove.

“There you go. Good as new.”

They nodded and returned their attention to the paper. “Thanks, Mom.”

They seemed to realize immediately, eyes widening, and Piper felt a sharp pain in her chest.

“Aw, Blue, you know I’m not really...”

They visibly deflated. “I know. I’m sorry, Piper.”

“Not like that.” She leaned forward, putting her coffee to the side. “I’m not upset by it. I’m just not that kind of person, that’s all. I’m like your older sister, not your Mom. I wouldn’t want to replace her. It’s not a big deal, just, you know, get it in your head.”

“Older sister?” That seemed to perk them up a bit, and she smiled.

“Yeah. You’re still part of the family, Blue. Just not like that.”

They smiled. “I guess I’ll take it.”

Preston: The first sign was always the quiet. Sole wasn’t likely to stay quiet for too long; they were always listening to the radio, humming or singing along. When it was quiet for too long, that usually meant they’d either wandered off without telling him, which was never good, or they’d fallen asleep somewhere.

Sign two was the glow of a lantern at the workbench. It wasn’t uncommon for them to work late into the night, but that was always accompanied by the sound of work: the screech of metal on metal, the hum of an engine, the rattling of loose hardware in its drawers.

Quiet and light together meant they’d fallen asleep at the workbench. Again.

“Sole.” Gently, he shook their shoulder. “Come on. You can’t sleep here.”

They sat up, bleary-eyed, a sheet of orange plastic cut from a pumpkin stuck to their cheek. Almost unseeing, they looked up at him with a sleepy, questioning hum.

“Come on.” Gently, he pulled at their arm.

“Sorry, Dad.” They rubbed their eyes, rising on unsteady feet. “I’m going.”

A smile crept to his face as he led them across the Sanctuary street to their home, making sure they got settled. Almost instantly, they were asleep again, long hours of hard living catching up to them all at once. Quietly, he closed the door behind him.

It was too good to be true. They were just tired, and mistook him for their father in the dark. But still, a part of him wanted to believe that it was possible. Maybe he could be a father to sole. He could show them how to make it here, in this unfamiliar world, and support them as they grew into the General he knew they could be.

Maybe, just maybe, they would let him.

X6: He watched them pace back and forth in front of the door, coat tails swirling with every pivot. They adjusted their lapels for the fifth time, sighed, and glanced around for a clock.

“It’s only four twenty-five,” he said. “You’ve still got twenty-five minutes.”

They sighed and sank heavily into a chair. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

They groaned and dropped their head onto the table. “You said it was thirty minutes to go, like, an hour ago.”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

He set his gun on the table with a sigh and set his sunglasses beside them. “If you keep worrying about it, you’ll only work yourself up more, and the time will seem to pass slower. Your best move would be to get a cup of coffee and relax.”

“I can’t relax.” They leaned back in their chair. “It’s my first meeting as the director. Half of the Institute already hates me because I’m so young, so if I mess this up I’ll be out on the street by dawn. This is no time to relax.”

“If you don’t relax, you’ll be more likely to make a mistake.”

“I know, but it’s easier said than done, Dad.”

He blinked. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them properly, but his hearing was beyond satisfactory. If he’d heard it, they’d said it, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Case in point. You’re upset, you make mistakes. Like that.”

They sank their head into their hands. “You’re right. I’ll- I’ll get some coffee. Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize. Humans make mistakes, after all.”

294 notes · View notes

that-one-weeb-but-starwars · 3 years

Text

Fairy Gone Wild| Omega

Note: Omega sees you flying and runs off to investigate while they're stationed, and what little girl thats been no where but Kamino, doesn't like a Fairy?

Omega x "Fairy" Male Reader (platonic- we dont do that illegal shit here bud-also- I watched strange magic again soooooo.....yeah)

Omega watched the hanger casually. Watching Hunter take Inventory.

They had been grounded for about a week. Omega didn't mind much though, but she had rather been out in the town finding new things.

Thats when she seen it, a person on the sky, large wings spread across there back as they soared up high with the clouds.

She stood up on the crate as she looked up with a bright smile.

"Hunter! Hunter!" She cheered rushing over, trying to keep her eyes on the person as she climbed down and rushed towards him.

"Omega- Watch were your going. Be careful," Hunter spoke, "what is it?"

Omeag moved her eyes to look up at Hunter, "see! Up there!"

Hunter looked up and so did Omega.

"I don't see anything there." Hunter responded looking in the sky as Omega frowned, unable to find the person.

"But- it was just there. I swear! She or he had wings! This big!" Omega spoke streching her arms out.

"Wings?" Hunter asked Tech coming over to talk to Hunter.

Omega nodded, "big ones! They...they were...I think they were colorful! I don't know! But they were up in the clouds! You should of see it Hunter! Huge wings!"

"Wings? On a human?" Tech questioned, "thats not plauseable. No human that has wings exist."

"But I seen it! You have to believe me!" Omega pleaded.

"Omega it may have just been your imagination." Hunter responded, "Atleast you have an imagination."

"But Im telling you! I seen it!" Omega defended.

"Hunter." Tech spoke.

"We can talk more about what you seen later." Hunter told, "Im sorry Omega. I have to get this done. Maybe Echo will take you?"

Omega sighed as Hunter and Tech walked off.

Yeah, Echo will take her.

Except Echo was in town and so was Wrecker. She looked back up at the sky as the clouds moved by and there the person was again.

Rushing into the ship she grabbed her bag and light bow. Then quickly rushed out the hanger, Tech and Hunter not even noticing her leaving as she had even ran right past them.

Rushing into town she followed the figure as quick as possible occasionally loosing it in the clouds, but soon it started to descend and vanished behind a building.

Omega cut through the ally ways and said multiple excuse mes as she seen the same wings in an alley way across from her's and were quickly covered with a Poncho as the figure started walking away.

She rushed as quick as possible to the figure, grabbing onto the end of the cloak.

"Hey!" She called out as the figure looked down at her, it was a young man, his eyes colored like crystal balls, as they were a rage of mixed colors.

"Can I help you?" He asked, taking his hood off, revealing his hair which tucked under the rest of his cloak, a dark brown color.

"I um..." Omega spoke, "seen you flying."

The young man smiled at her, his lips a soft rosey color.

"Did you now?"

Omega nodded, "I uh....like your wings. They looked pretty up there."

He got on one knee, his tall form bent down to her height.

"Well thank you." Y/n smiled but looked around, "where are your parents kid?"

"My. Parents?" She asked as Y/n frowned.

"Its okay. I don't have any either." He responded, "My names Y/n."

Omega smiled, "I'm Omega!"

Y/n chuckled at the enthusiasm, "Well Omega do you have any friends? Are you traveling with someone?"

Omega nodded but soon frowned, "But there busy."

"Oh." Y/n responded, "Do you need help getting back to them?"

Omega shook her head no, "No. But I seen you! And I thought you were really cool! We're you born with wings!"

"I was." Y/n responded, "but I have to get groceries. So walk and talk?"

Omega nodded following Y/n, he was much taller than she first realized, but seen his shoes and was estatic.

"What are those!?" Omega asked happily.

"Hmm?" Y/n asked looking down at his feet, his boots covered in vine and flowers, "My boots."

"How did you get them like that?!"

"Uh...You know I don't know." Y/n laughed scratching the back of his neck, "thats actually a good question."

The two walked through the streets, mirgating towards the market boxes with produce. Y/n scanning over the fresh produce, pickinh out some fruit.

"Is it just you?" Omega asked Y/n nodded.

"Its been just me for some time now."

"Oh." Omega spoke, "you should meet my friends then!"

Y/n smiled, "maybe when we go back to them- but first. Wanna be my helper in picking out the best fruits?"

Omega nodded happily as Y/n picked her up. They both contuied to chat happily, Omega had happily found a new friend a cool one at that.

Meanwhile-

"I LOST OMEGA!" Hunter shouted.

"YOU WHAT!?" Echo argued him and Wrecker returning with supplies.

"Shes was here! On the crate! And now shes gone!"

"What do you mean now she's gone!?" Echo shouted, "You lost our- the- You lost the kid?! If she was just siting there how'd you loose her!"

"I don't know! She was telling me she seen some thing flying in the sky-" Hunter was telling but realized, "she went after that thing! Shes in town!"

The group contuined to argue, especially Hunter and Echo.

"You lost her! Why didn't you just listen!"

"Well Im sorry that I was busy trying to keep us alive! What about you!?-"

"If you'd of asked I would of came back and got her!"

"That looks great Omega!" Y/n smiled as Omega put the vegtables in the satchel Y/n had, "that should be enough. Say. Why don't we get something to eat? You must be hungry!"

Omega nodded happily, Y/n setting Omega down as she had been in his arms for reaching over the stand.

They walked tona food stall.

"Blue milk and chocolate please. Two of them." Y/n asked the lady as she nodded.

"Can I also have two of your bagel and loxes?"

"Of course."

The sandwhiches were made and the warm drinks served, Y/n paying as they started down the street together. The sun had gone down and the lights from stalls lit up the area.

"Now that we have dinner lets sit someone."

They found a water fountain not far away a large one in the middle of a court yard. Omega sat on the ledge and Y/n on the floor agaisnt the structure, as someone was playing music for credits near by.

"This is good." Omega smiled biting into the bagel, "what is it?"

"A bagel and loxes." Y/n told her biting into his own food, "I use to make them all the time when I caught fish by the river I use to live by."

Omega swallowed her food, "what planet did you come from?"

"You know..." y/n spoke licking his lips of creamcheese, "I don't remember, I just remember something called Order 37 being put into play. They took the whole planet and started taking people. Over. Some bounty guy I don't know."

He took a drink of his warm milk, "Im not really worried about it. I don't remember of my planet or my family anyways. I can't miss something I've never had right?"

"You don't wish you had friends or family?" Omega questioned as Y/n shrugged.

"I don't know. Should of, could of, would of, Am I right." Y/n questioned, yet it sounded more as a statement, like he didn't care.

"I know I'd miss my friends." Omega responded, "And...I do miss some of them."

Y/n looked back at Omega looking down sat at her food, "hey. Kid, its okay. You've made new ones."

"But she was all I knew...for a long time." Omega admitted, creamcheese whipped arcoss her cheek.

Y/n moved to sit on his knees infront of her napkin in hand, "hey, it doesn't mean you'll never see her again."

He wipped her cheek as she cried and Y/n frowned.

"I-I miss her."

"I know." Y/n soothed, "its okay to miss her, but would she want you crying?"

Omega shook her head no, "see. So. When you think of her you shouldn't cry. You should be happy thinking of her."

Omega nodded as Y/n smiled smally, wiping her tears, "come on, lets finish up and then maybe we can go looking around for some stuff, maybe we can make a plushie or something that looks like her?"

Omega was quiet, as Y/n patted her head, sitting besides her she leaned into Y/n's side. The male smiling as they contuined to eat.

"This is really good..." Omega spoke tears still falling as she forced back her cries as she ate.

"It is. Isnt it?"

They finished their dinner, Omega's face tear stained as they left hand in hand back into the market looking for supplies to make a quick stuffed animal.

The bad batch was running all around town at this point looking for the lost girl. Even in the crowded street it was Echo who seen the little girl, hand being held by a man who was pocketing items he had just bought in his satchel.

"Omega!"

Y/n laughed as Omega told him a joke, but looked back seeing who called her name.

"Something wrong?" Y/n asked.

Omega shrugged, "I thought I heard someone. Its nothing."

Y/n nodded as the two walked off, Echo slowly starting to loose them.

"I see her! Shes with an adult male!" Echo spoke into his comn system, "on the main street!"

"Im on it!" Tech shouted back rushing towards the last known location.

The two laughed as they turned a corner, walking down a less busy street.

"Omega!"

They both turned around, Tech standing geared up hand ready to grab his blaster.

Y/n stepped infront of the small girl.

"Tech?" Omega questioned.

"Stand down!" Tech argued he unwilling to budge as Y/n stood read as well, his blaster concealed somewhere amongst his poncho.

"Kid- stay behind me!" Y/n argued.

"But Wait! I know him!" Omega argued.

"Its not him Im worried about!" Y/n defended as there was a chuckle behind Tech.

"Well well. I get to bag two legends in one day. And they both pay well."

"Hop of my dick Sing!" Y/n argued.

"How much your wings goin for now? Hmm? My little fairy Prince?" Aura Sing questioned.

Tech slolwly moved back, hands ready to grab both blasters as a sort of tringle formed.

"You know for a head as big as your's you'd think there'd be some knowledge in there." Y/n smirked as Aura Sing growled.

A three way stand off with two bounties to count for.

"I can not wait to mount your god damn head on my god damn wall!" She demanded, "Right next to that some of a bitch Hondo!"

"Oh you're still mad about that?"

"You slept with him!" Aura Sing argued.

"Uh no. That's not what happened. Its Hondo. Who the kriff sleeps with Hondo, its not my fault Im just better looking that you."

"Watch it!" Aura Sing argued, "You took him from me!"

"The only think I took from that man hoe was his stack of credits!" Y/n defended.

"Thats it!" The bounty hunter shouted pulling her blasters nd shooting at both Tech and Y/n.

Y/n quickly grabbed Omega darting off with the help of his wings down the less busy street.

"Tech! We have to go back and help him!" Omega cried.

"He's got armor! We don't!" Y/n defended, "he'll be okay!"

Y/n was shot in the arm suddenly, crying out he held Omega tight as his wings wrapped around both of them, sending them to the floor as they rolled, forward, people screaming and running for cover.

Y/n kept Omega sheilded with his wings, but gripped his arm in pain as he looked behind him just to be pulled from his protective hover and tossed onto the floor.

"Omega!" Y/n shouted, "get away from her!"

Getting back up he was pinned down to the floor, "We don't wanna hurt you!"

"Get off me!" Y/n argued, the man walking over quickly who held a blaster in his hand as Omega was starting to sit up.

"It's been ordered sir, Excute order 37-"

Y/n's eyes widened as he struggled under the larger mans grip.

"Just take me! Just don't hurt her!" He begged as Omega looked over at Y/n.

"Wrecker! You're hurting him!"

"Wait- you know this guy!?"

Wrecker got off Y/n as he immediately sat up, Omega rushing over to him, quickly hugging him as Y/n hugged back.

"You're okay! You're okay! Y/n spoke happily as Omega hugged him.

He pulled away from her with a smile, "You're Okay? Right?"

Omega nodded, "Im fine. But you got hurt."

"I'll be fine." Y/n responded with a smile, "We have Sing to deal with- you're friend."

"Omega! Who is this!" Hunter demanded.

"This is who I seen flying in the sky! His names Y/n!" Omega introduced, "This is Hunter, Wrecker and Echo! But Tech's still with the bounty hunter!"

Just as that was said Tech came running around the corner for cover.

"Get down!"

Omega was grabbed by Hunter as Y/n followed ducking behind some crates.

"And that!?" Hunter argued.

"She wants me dead. Thats my bad!" Y/n argued, "the usual bounty hunter!"

"Get out here and face me! One on one!" Aura Sing argued as the street went quiet.

Y/n pointing in the direction of an alley way as the two nodded, slolwy crawling there way into more cover.

"I'll distract her while you two run." Y/n whispered, "notify the others somehow too."

Hunter nodded.

"But you'll get hurt." Omega defended quietly.

Y/n smiled, "that's okay kid, I've taken on worse."

Taking his poncho off his wings spread freely slowly making his way up and into the air "wait."

His hand was grabbed as he looked down at Hunter.

"Thank you."

Y/n nodded as he quietly flew ontop of the building, staying low as possible he made it across a few more.

Hunter grabbed Omega's hand as they crept towards the alleys entrance Hunter nodding to the group of three across the way.

"Hey Aura Bitch!" Y/n shouted as the woman whipped around.

"There you are you man whore!" She shouted angirly, firing her rifle at him quickly.

"Now!"

Hunter picked up Omega as the batch of clones ran, Aura Sing focused on the shoot out with Y/n.

"Hunter! He'll die!" Omega argued.

Hunter looked back to see the two hand and hand now. Punching Sing across her face.

"I think he's got it under control!" Tech argued.

"But! Hunter!" Omega pleaded.

"Im sorry kid!" Hunter argued, the group running off faster, as Y/n had started lifting Sing up into the sky..

#star wars the bad batch #tbb omega #the bad batch omega #star wars omega #omega bad batch #Star Wars

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ejzah · 3 years

Note

I was wondering if you do a fic where kensi is being super clingy, and deeks is kind of concerned but also finds it cute? Thanks!

A/N: I struggled with this one a bit for some reason. This one is set in maybe early season 5. And because it’s me, I had to throw in some angst.

***

Don’t Stray Too Far

“Hey, where are you doing tonight?” Kensi asked, appearing in front of Deeks’ desk as he packed up his bag.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I was planning on just going home and probably zoning out on a documentary or something.

“Oh. You want some company?” He could tell she was trying to sound casual, but she had her arms tightly crossed and seemed tense.

“Uh, sure,” Deeks agreed, not sure where the awkwardness was coming from. They usually didn’t plan things out that much anymore and half the time Kensi just appeared at his door and invited herself in. “You want to grab a burger or something on the way?”

Her face brightened and she reached out like she was going to touch his arm, but then caught herself at the last second and tucked her hair behind her ear instead.

“Great, I’m starving. I’ll grab my bag and meet you outside in five.”

About an hour later, they were sitting on his couch, watching some movie that Kensi had chosen. Deeks couldn’t help glancing back at Kensi every so often. If he thought about it, she’d been acting a little weird for the past couple days.

Even when they weren’t directly working together, Kensi seemed to find reasons to find him. Yesterday she’d volunteered to help him with weapons inventory, even though it meant she ended up staying two hours later than she needed to.

She’d also brought him coffee every morning this week, offered to drive him to a surfing competition he planned to attend on the weekend, and at the moment, she was pressed right up against his side. He could feel every breath she took, the slight lift of her chest against his arm.

A part of him wondered if this was a completely unsubtle and circumventive way of telling his she wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Deeks doubted it though. Any time they even got near the subject of their “thing”, Kensi shied away.

For the moment, she seemed content to use him for a pillow while she munched on the remnants of her fries.

“You know, I might stay and watch the competition with you on Friday,” Kensi said during a commercial. The fingers of her right hand fiddled with cuff of his sleeve, making contact with his wrist every so often. He wasn’t sure if she was even aware she was doing it.

“You want to come to a two day surfing competition?” he clarified dubiously.

“You made it sound like fun.” Deeks rolled his eyes and almost laughed at the ludicrous idea that Kensi would enjoy spending her weekend surrounded by a bunch of surfer dudes.

“Kens, you hate it when I talk about surfing for more than five minutes. What’s really going on?”

“Do I need a reason for wanting to spend time with my partner?” She pulled away from him, now on the defensive. She added, “I mean, if you don’t want me there, I don’t have to go.”

“No, that’s not what I said.” She ignored him, starting to get up, her absence immediately leaving him cold, and he gently tugged her back down. “Hey, hey, Kensi, just hang on a second. I would love if you came, but I need to know what’s going on first. You’ve been acting weird for days.”

“You really know how to charm a woman, Deeks,” Kensi drawled, crossing her arms, but not resisting when he pulled her back beside him.

“I’m serious, Kens. You’ve been...for lack of a better word, clingy,” he said, wincing a little at the descriptor. “I’m honestly kind of worried about you.”

Kensi huffed out a sharp laugh, and crossed her arms, avoiding his eyes.

“I don’t like to be away from you for too long,” she admitted quietly. Deeks’ mouth dropped slightly before he caught himself and tried to force a neutral expression. “I feel like if I let you of out of sight, something will happen to you. And I only just got you back.”

The vague reference to his torture and trauma subsequent made something in his stomach clench, but he pushed it down, reaching for Kensi’s hand. She let him take it, still avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure if s he was angry at him or embarrassed.

“I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” Kensi glanced up sharply at that, her eyes glinting with something that he was terrified were tears.

“You can’t promise me that. We are always in danger from our jobs. And you do ridiculously crazy things like surfing and buying motorcycles.” Her voice cut out on a sharp noise that might have been a hushed sob. She brushed at her eyes and pressed her lips together as she shook her head. “I can’t lose you again, Deeks.”

He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but feared she would push him away. Instead, he squeezed her hand again, looked her directly in the eye.

“I promise you that I won’t take an unnecessary risks,” he repeated. “I can’t promise you that nothing will ever happen to me again because we both know that’s impossible. But I will do everything in my power be your partner, and friend, for as long as I can.”

Letting out a shuddery sigh, Kensi crossed the small space between them and wrapped her arms around him.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly, pressing her face into his shoulder for a minute. When she pulled away, she brushed her fingers down his cheek with a soft smile. “I’ll always need you.”

***

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #pre densi #angst #anonymous prompt #ejzah fanfiction

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dandyxrandy · 3 years

Text

After-Shoot

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Length: 3k

Warnings: Protected Sex ; My Spanish sucks so Google translate helped. If a phrase is wrong, PLEASE reach out to me so I can correct it. Also not beta read. So if mistakes found, again, reach out. The easier for you to the read, the happier I am.

Gif Credit: @pedrospascl

It couldn’t get any worse, you told yourself. It really, really couldn’t. This was the first time you were invited to have coffee with another in God who remembers how long and you ended up being late. Not only were you late, but you were cold and soaked to the bone from the rain that ended up being a whole hour earlier than the forecast predicted and really, you should've known better than to listen to any predicament of weather because it was usually wrong anyways.

You checked your phone again and it was still dead as a door nail. You had dropped it in a puddle earlier when you tried to answer the call from Pedro, no doubt wondering where you were, and it shorted out the motherboard. You would have to replace it whenever you got home and you honestly had half a mind to just turn around and do just that. That would seem silly, however, with you being more than halfway to Pedro’s apartment where he had invited you for an afternoon coffee get together the day before when you worked together on the Style Magazine photo shoot.

You were really, really tired of having a shit day. Frustrated and in near tears you saw the place that Pedro was staying in for the time being while he was in your state. It was a nice condo type home with large front windows that overlooked the city, the style modern and sleek.

You let out a small breath, even as the storm crackled above you, and tried to muster your resolve up. You were a mess, but hey - you were here, right? Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset with you. It wasn’t exactly your fault that you had to park six blocks away because there wasn’t any closer parking nor was it your fault the weather was wrong.

You took a deep breath and rang the doorbell and before the small chime even ended the door swung open, Pedro filling the entire frame. Oh. He looked absolutely stunning. His soft curls were slicked back against his head and he wore one of the outfits from the shoot the previous day. One of the ones you had commented on, to be precise. His eyes took a long drag over you, from head to toe, his jaw working from one side to the other. His irritation seemed palpable.

“I see the coffee isn’t the only thing that’s cold.” His hand slid down the door frame before dropping to his side, a hefty sigh heaving from his lips. “Come on, let's get you inside and warmed up. I have some spare clothes that you can wear.”

You felt sheepish following him inside. He didn’t even give you time to explain and once the door was closed you were able to try.

“Pedro, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to be late.” You, shuffled in behind him, following him to the bathroom where he grabbed you a towel. “There wasn’t any parking and my phone died and I just - please don’t be mad.” And you did feel like crying then. You could tell he wasn’t happy with you and that on top of being cold and tired, you felt a little part of you break.

He reached out with the towel and brought it to your face, gently wiping away the raindrops that stuck to your cold skin.

“You have nothing to apologize for, guapa.” He brought his other hand to your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into the touch a little. You blame it on how he was so warm and you weren’t. “I was worried that something had happened. And then worried you stood me up.”

“Stood you up? Yeah - okay…” You laughed at him but when you caught his gaze you saw it had softened considerably. He looked relieved and you noticed the slight part of his lips as he turned away, going to another room and reappearing a moment later with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that looked like it would even be big on him.

“Why don’t you change into some dry clothes. We can throw your wet ones in the dryer.” He nodded to the clothes dryer that was in the bathroom. “I’ll go make us some new coffee while you swap out.” He set the clothes down on the toilet seat and gave you a half smile. “Mi casa es tu casa.”

He left you then with a soft closing of the door and you felt a flood of relief course through your body. He wasn’t mad or upset or hell - anything that you thought he may be. Instead he was kind and courteous and worried, and you’d be damned if that didn’t make your heart melt even more. You thought of the moment when he had opened the front door and the dark look in his eyes and the tick of his jaw. It made a low heat curl in your belly at the memory.

Was it wrong to think those things of someone who clearly wanted what was best for you at that moment? Pedro was, in all essence, taking pity and caring for you and all you could think about was warming yourself up by crawling into his lap. You were horrible, you decided, but the kind of horrible that could be forgiven later.

You did change out of your clothes then, pausing as you tried to decide if you were going to keep your bra and underwear on but argued they would just soak the dry clothing. Off those went and joined the pile in the sink. You did a quick rub down with the towel to at least try to get most of the water off and then squeezed it through your hair before you stepped into the sweatpants and large tee-shirt, silently thanking the world at how warm they were. You wrung out your clothes as best as you could before you tossed them in the dryer and pressed ‘start’.

When you opened the door the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit you and it instantly set you at ease. You padded your way into the kitchen but didn’t find Pedro there and instead turned to find him sitting on the couch without his red suit jacket on. Two cups of coffee set on coasters in front of him and a small spread of sugar and cream were there, too. The entire set up screamed ‘casual but obvious effort.”

“Hey…” You rounded the side of the couch and sat next to him, unsure if this was alright. It was just your nerves.

“Hey. I see everything fits well!” He teased lightly. “I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee so I figured I would let you do your own. I also turned the heat up a little to help get you warm.” Which would explain the missing jacket.

Pedro took one of the cups and pressed it into your hands, his own wrapping around yours for a moment. “If you’re still too cold I can grab you a blanket or a sweatshirt.”

“I think I have enough of your clothes on. If I end up with more I’m afraid that you might not get something back.”

“Is that so?” The corners of his mouth quirked up in a devious smirk, hands coming to his own cup of coffee to lift to his lips, eyes peering just over the rim of his mug. “Well, I will have to take inventory of all articles of clothing before and after you leave.” Was he flirting with you?

You hid behind your own cup of coffee, blushing. “What I mean is that it looks expensive and I could never afford some of the clothes you wear.” Even though you were pretty sure these ones were borrowed from the wardrobe department from the shoot.

“Hm. Here I thought you were wanting a little memento from me.” He chuckled and you nearly choked on your coffee as you inhaled it a little too quick and it went down the wrong pipe. He was flirting, now, you decided as you tried not to die.

“Hey, hey now…” His hand came to your back, patting you lightly to help you cough up the coffee. “Didn’t mean to make you choke! You okay?” He was finding far too much amusement in your predicament and you were caught between laughing with him and locking yourself back in the bathroom to wait for your clothes to finish drying.

It took you a minute but you finally stopped coughing, your eyes burning and your pride non-existent. Pedro’s hand, however, was still on your back. He was no longer patting in efforts to help you but now his fingertips were stroking over the gentle curve of your spine, thumb pressing into the muscle just beneath your shoulder blades.

“Sorry.” You croaked, voice scratchy from the coughing fit. “I wasn’t expecting to be called out so quickly. You certainly know my end game.” You hid your embarrassment with sass and you had to put the coffee down before you did any damage. Pedro’s hand stilled as you moved, but he didn’t stop touching you, not even as you leaned back again.

“You’re still cold. I can feel it through the shirt.” His arm slid across your shoulders as he tucked you closer to his side. You both sat in a stretch of silence as he waited for the silent permission of his touch. You realized he was stiff and not as at ease as you thought he would be. You rested your hand on his knee, fingertips curling against the red cotton of his pants as you leaned in against him, nose tucking against his side. You felt him relax then.

“Thank you for this.” You whispered as you let your fingers trace his kneecap.

“Of course. I couldn’t let a damsel stay in distress.” He let his other hand, now coffee less as he set his mug on a side table, come to yours on his knee, fingers lacing to hold your hand. “But I do have a confession to make, if I may…”

“Hm?” You felt warm and cozy. You hadn’t quite expected that you were going to find yourself cuddling with this charming man today, but you weren’t going to complain either. The weather had taken a toll on you and you were quite ready for a nap. Pedro wasn’t helping either with the slow inhale and exhale of his breath that rocked you like a boat on a lake. Gentle and lovely.

“I would very much like to kiss you.”

He squeezed the hand on his knee before unlocking their hold and bringing his fingers to your chin, turning your face to his. He bumped your noses a moment, lips ghosting just over yours in a teasing breath.

“May I?” He whispered. “Please, tell me what you want.”

You shifted, your thighs rubbing together as you felt the curling heat span in your belly and you suddenly felt very, very hot. Pedro kept his gaze steady on yours, never once faltering as he waited for your consent. He was so close that you could smell the hint of coffee on his breath, the smell of the aftershave and cologne on his skin.

“Please...yes, Pedro.” He tilted your chin a little higher, lips just touching. A mockery of a kiss as he smiled wickedly. “Please, kiss me.”

He did then, his lips pressing firmly into yours as his hand slipped to cup your cheek. Neither of you moved for that moment, letting each other take in the press of your mouths until you let your hand slip a little higher, fingers tracing the seam of his pants on his inner leg and it broke the reserve he had. Pedro groaned low and he all but lifted you into his lap, your legs splaying on either sides of his hips.

His mouth never left yours as he moved, his hands coming to grip the gentle curve of your hips, pulling you closer to him, yours breasts pushing steady against his chest. He groaned into your mouth as his hips rolled up and you felt the sudden hard length of him against your thigh.

“Fuck -” You moaned out at the feel of him. “I've wanted to do this since the moment I saw you, hermosa.” Pedro’s voice was husky against your skin as he moved his hands under your ass, fingers tight as he shifted your hips together, pushing his clothed cock up into your hand. “You lit up the room, you know. The moment you stepped foot into the light, I was taken away. Captured.”

You couldn’t help but let your fingers curl around his length and give a gentle squeeze, testing the size of him and oh - oh, he was large beneath your fingertips. Pedro tipped his head against yours, lips ghosting along your nose.

“Take off your clothes.” He breathed and you moved with him to pull your shirt over your head, his hands immediately coming to undo your bra and let your breasts hang free. His head dips to take a nipple in your mouth and you arch into the wet heat and you hiss when he sets his teeth against the sensitive skin.

“Shit - Pedro. I need - “ You needed him out of his shirt, too. But it was hard to coerce him out of it when he was attached to you like he was. You pushed him away a little, trying to create space enough to get him out of his shirt, your fingers working at the buttons in a clumsy haste.

“Bed.” Pedro grunts and you two move off of the couch, peeling from each other. You still kept your hands on him as he guided you to the bedroom and you both all but fell into the large bed. Pedro rolled to the side to flick on the bedside lamp to fill the room with a soft glow and the light highlighted the deep amber in his eyes. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

“C’mere.” You motion to him as you lay back on the plush pillows, arms stretched out to take Pedro in. He comes above you and rests on his forearms as he slides a knee up between your legs, making them spread wide and he settles there, his hips rolling into the crux of your thighs.

You arch up to meet him again and he presses a kiss against your mouth, licking you open. He tugs at your pants insistently and you lift your hips up to let him shimmy them over your soft curves and down your legs. You kick them off in a haste and Pedro pauses, lifting himself to lean back on his knees, staring down at you. You blush under his gaze because it's so heavy, so slow. You don’t remember any man, any person for that matter, who looked at you like that. It was so needy.

“Eres tan hermosa. You are so beautiful.” He reaches out and drags his fingertips along the side of your face, down your neck and across your collarbone. He keeps going lower and lower, mapping your body out with his touch until he comes to touch your between your legs. His fingers tease your outer lips first, a gentle drag of his knuckles and then he moves in deeper, pressing a thumb against your clit and circling.

You moaned as he pressed a little more firm to work you into your pleasure and the tip of a finger teased you open and curled. Gods, he was good at this. You clenched around him and he added a second finger, curling up to rub against the textured spot inside you.

“Pedro.” You moaned out as he continued to work you and you felt your climax climb, your body taught with need. “Pedro, I’m - fuck, I’m close. Don’t stop. Don’t -”

“Por favor, mi amor. Cum for me.”

You did as he told you, your eyes closing and head tilting up to close out the world as you focused only on your orgasm. He continued to stroke you inside, his thumb continuously applying the delicious pressure on your clit and only eased up after your thighs stopped trembling, returning to a soft stroke.

Pedro caught your gaze as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, slipping them against his tongue, sucking in, tasting your orgasm that he brought out of you. He left you breathless. You parted your legs again as an invitation and his gaze dropped to the movement. Pedro shimmied his pants off, tossing them over the side of the bed and you wanted very much to touch him but he instead fumbled with the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom.

You watched as he rolled the condom on with an ease and he moved over you again, taking your hands in his, twining your fingers together. It was an intimate gesture and one you adored. Pedro seemed like he couldn’t get close enough to you, even as he pressed his flush skin against yours.

He slid into you easily with how wet you were and he bottomed out in you almost immediately, stretching you full. Pedro lets out a groan, his head dropping to yours as he rocked into your cunt. He was so intimate in this, so incredibly loving, and to a person whom he only just met. You felt him love with his entire being and it was a gorgeous act that he gifted you.

“I won’t last long, I’m afraid.” He grunts out between thrusts. You bring your legs up and around him, pulling him closer and his thrusts turn into a grind. You were still blissfully sensitive from your climax earlier and you were more than okay with his admission. He took care of you first, above his own pleasure. “Please, Pedro. It’s okay. Please, just...it’s good.” You didn’t know what to say in his softness but you knew it was the right thing because he ground into you harder, his hips snapping as he tightened his grip. His mouth dropped open in a silent moan as he came, his rhythm breaking into stillness.

“You will have to forgive me.” Pedro breaks into a wide smile against your neck as he relaxes against you, his weight dropping like a blanket. “You are far too soft for any man to last long.” He pulls from you and glances down to take off the spent condom and set it in the trash that was next to the bed. He settled beside you, his head propped up on his hand, his other tracing along your stomach.

“You flatter me far too much.” You giggle, smacking his hand away. It instead settles against your face, his thumb brushing under your eye.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asked.

The offer wasn’t one you were expecting. In all honesty, you didn’t really expect any of this, but perhaps you were naive when it came to what coffee dates entailed now, not that you were complaining.

“Of course.”

You didn’t think he could light up any more than he already was, but he did. His face became childlike and gleeful. He was adorable, really.

“Fantastic. I’ll make sure we get some proper coffee in the morning. Promise.”

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #writing #well shit looks like i finally banged out another one.#ill throw this on Ao3 later #pedro #pascal #randywrites

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hamburgerhelpersotherhand · 4 years

Text

Infatuation P1

Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn

Warnings: Casual Joe thoughts and stalking/watching from afar

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic... and I chose Netflix’s YOU of all things. This doesn’t specifically take place anywhere on any timeline, but know that Joe and Love are together. I don’t know if I should continue this but I felt like it needed to be posted.

There you were.

You are currently Love’s favourite customer and, as I watch you, I can’t begin to see why.

You’re not really interested in what’s on display, are you? You come in every day, glance around as if you’ve never seen the place, and slowly make your way to the front counter.

You don’t even say anything when you find yourself waiting alone, but you do toy with the bell charm on your bag. It’s almost like a replacement for your own voice.

You know, by the way you’re looking around, it almost seems like you’re searching for something... or someone. Should I feel threatened? You come in three times a week and hog Love’s attention like a spoiled kid.

Now you’re checking the time on your phone. Do you have somewhere else you have to be? Relax, Y/N, you’re just in Anavrin.

“Y/N, can you proof read this for me?” Forty walks into frame with his phone in hand, saving you from your awkward wait.

I click my pen and pretend to be taking inventory.

“I don’t know, I’m waiting for Love.” You say quietly. I almost didn’t catch that.

The conversation seemed to stop and I glance up to see Forty’s lips puckered. He’s thinking.

“Well, I don’t see her anywhere and it’ll only take a minute.” He continued suddenly. “Please, please, please?”

A little annoying, I will admit. But his request doesn’t feel like something you’d turn down-and I already spot you nodding your head. He hands you his phone and you begin to read.

Your lips are pursed and your eyes are moving back and forth. Either you’re a fast reader or Forty used a very large font size. Do you read often? Your bag looks big enough to hold a couple books.

You’re very petite, reserved and seem like just the type to secretly enjoy a steamy romance novel. As they say, It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.

“Sorry for the wait, someone left one of the spice caps loose and I had to clean the mess.” Love steals your attention away from Forty’s phone. He’s quick to take the device back from you. He looks frustrated.

“Oh, it’s alright! Forty was keeping me company.” You say, but Forty is already walking away- more specifically, walking towards me.

My attention is momentarily taken away from you while I look down and pretend to examine the books that came in this morning.

“Hey old sport, can you proof read this?”

I look at him, his phone, and then glance towards Love. He seems to notice and also glances back.

“Hey, Love has her friends and I have mine.” He snaps his fingers infront of my face and I look at him. “Right now is friend time and your creepy silence is not allowed.”

“I-“ before I can even get two words out, he’s got his phone in my face and an expectant look in his eye.

It had been a long day of enduring an earful from Forty. He’s passionate for his craft of the week, I’ll give him that.

But you... you left hours ago, yet you were still on my mind.

Love and you were in the back kitchen and I knew. Love doesn’t just take anyone into the kitchen, especially not a customer... no. You’re much more than that. Aren’t you, Y/N?

You two prepared a lunch together, as you did every time you found yourself at Anavrin.

“Will, I’m planning a ‘get together’ on Friday.” Love snapped me out of my expressionless daze. “In all seriousness, I just want to relax with some friends at home. Will you be there?”

“That depends, am I invited?” I reply with a quirked smile and an innocent look in my eye.

“Of course you are! Come over around 3, I’ll need help with dinner.” She doesn’t actually need help with preparing dinner, but I can tell she’d prefer the extra set of hands.

“I’ll be there.” I smile, a real genuine one too.

This is a nice conversation and all, but I want to find out more about you, Y/N. “While dinner is on the table, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and grab lunch with me tomorrow?” Im asking this because I know you’re coming in for your secret lunch dates with Love. This question is just the bait I need to get a conversation going.

“Oh. I don’t know about that. I kind of have plans with Y/N during my lunch break.” Bingo. Just what I wanted to hear. Well, not really but you get the point.

“Y/N... Is that... the...uhh...” This is all an act. I’m pretending to search for the name, but she’s never actually mentioned you to me directly before.

“She’s a customer.” Love says. Downplaying the meaning behind your relationship and keeping it professional? Are you two hiding something or am I just losing it?

“Is she the girl with the bell on her bag? There was a girl jingling something on her bag around noon.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely her.” Love nods. I like how reserved she’s being, despite feeling a bit frustrated that I couldn’t find out more. It’s almost like Love is tempting me to find you on my own.

“I guess lunch can wait then. I’ll be looking forward to dinner on Friday.”

Love leans forward and gives me one of her softest kisses. I return the action and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

My thoughts almost naturally start to drift to you again.

It’s another day at Anavrin, but I don’t see you anywhere.

Love is in the back kitchen, lost in her own cooking trance as per usual. She looks very beautiful with that focused look on her face.

But where are you? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago and yet, there’s no sign of you.

At least, not until I start to hear that little chime on your bag.

“Thank you for the input. I might not do anything with what you said, but I’ll definitely consider it.” That’s right... Forty knows you too. He’s talking about his story again and you seem interested. I can’t tell if you’re genuinely into it or just being nice.

When you come into view, Love looks up and spots you. You don’t notice her right away, but she smiles in your direction.

I spot your lips moving but I can’t make out what you’re saying. Damn it, Y/N. You have to get out of that mumbling habit.

Forty takes a sip of his drink and nods in response. Before I know it, you’re both going your separate ways: Forty hovers around some books while you go towards the back kitchen.

I look back to Love and see her eyes staring right at me. She’s looking with an unreadable expression... then she smiles, waves, and I wave back with a smile of my own.

I remember Forty and turn around.

“I kind of don’t like the placement of these.” Forty rotates a finger around the display. I ignore his statement.

“Who’s that girl?” I look towards the back kitchen. “I see her come in like every day but she doesn’t say a word.”

He seems to think for a bit as he spins whatever remains of his drink with his reusable straw.

“That’s Y/N.” I wait for him to continue. “She’s an old friend of Love’s. Y/N is back in LA and I guess Love just wants to spend time with her.”

“Who is she to you?” It only feels natural that I ask this. Forty seems to trail behind you, but it could be because you’re a recognizable face.

“I took her out on a date once.” He sips his drink. “Then she pretty much ghosted everyone when she moved.”

Now that... that makes me curious... I now want to dive deeper than I would have, if just to find out why you ghosted Love of all people. She’s good for you, she’s good for everyone.

There’s always the possibility you moved away with family, but I’d like to believe there’s a better story in there somewhere.

I think it’s time to see how reserved you really are, Y/N.

#you #love quinn #joe goldberg #poly #polyamory #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader #short story #oneshot #fanfiction #joe goldberg x reader #love quinn x reader #forty quinn #forty quinn x reader

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pressedinthepages · 3 years

Text

Family Business

Chapter 3: Date Night

A/N: Whoops, our hands slipped. Myself and Margaret (@sometimesiwrite) have completed another chapter about these two silly boys! In this episode, Eskel sees a new side to Julian, and they finally are able to go on their first real date. But will all go as planned? Only time will tell.

also, I, Erica, will not apologize for making Lambert extra sexy.

Warnings: discussion of past death of a loved one, super soft flirting, loss, mourning, brief mention of religious-based homophobia, slightly NSFW texting (nothing explicit), unnamed character being an ass to a hostess, maybe...another k*ss?

Previous chapter: Here! Erica’s Masterlist: Here! Margot’s Masterlist: Here!

ENJOY!

Eskel’s phone vibrated in his pocket as he passed a latte to the last customer of the breakfast rush. It was 10:24. Perfect. Plenty of time to clean up, check the espresso, and… take a look at the notification he knew was waiting for him on his lock screen. He checked around as he rinsed the cloth for the steaming wand and wiped the countertops. Geralt was sipping away at a glass of ginger-apple-kale juice (typical), and Lambert was busy cleaning off the panini press, apparently hellbent on breathing in as much of the cheesy bread fumes as possible (he always did love the smell of a grill top). No new customers. All clear. Eskel pulled out his phone and saw a text notification—Julian.

Still up for helping out? I am...stressing.

Eskel smiled at his phone screen and thumbed in his passcode. I’ll see what I can do, but as you know, Lambert had to dress me yesterday so… you have fair warning.

Three little dots floated on the screen. Julian was typing. Eskel glanced around to make sure no one was waiting for help and that Lambert was minding his fucking business.

Ok, option one:

And then, an actual photograph of Julian sitting in front of his mirror wearing a tastefully loud dress shirt—black with white vines and flowers. As Eskel examined the photo more closely, he realized that the young man was also wearing a… a well-fitting pair of dark boxer briefs. Thankfully, the hand not holding the phone was resting in his lap and obscuring anything salacious. Eskel blushed bright red and immediately lowered his phone. He breathed out slowly. Okay. Okay! This is… this is okay. This is a normal adult thing to do. Eskel’s mouth was very dry as his phone pinged again. There was no reason to be feeling embarrassed or… Then again, maybe he hadn’t meant anything by it. After all, Julian was younger, less inhibited, had fewer hangups about modesty. And even if he did mean to be an absolute scoundrel, this was… healthy. Yeah. Healthy. Eskel arrived at the conclusion that, at the very least, Julian trusted him, and he clung to that as he opened his phone back up, desperately wishing he wasn’t at work.

And option two:

Now Julian had on a pair of pants, thank Christ. But Eskel couldn’t help but laugh. They were bright red corduroy bell-bottoms and potentially the most atrocious things he’d ever laid eyes on, even with his self-reported lack of fashion sense. Julian was also sporting a navy vest. But this was no ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill kind of vest: it was decorated with large jewel-tone flowers emulating stained glass, and covered so much of the base colour it was barely visible. What was perfectly visible was Julian’s bare torso underneath. Arms, shoulders, and the top of his chest were on full display, while a coquettish tilt of his head gracefully extended his neck. Jesus. Eskel could just make out the crease and dimple of a grin on the side of Julian’s face in the mirror as he turned his head away. You cheeky little bastard.

Eskel’s fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment before settling on a reply. He didn’t want to encourage him too much and risk an… awkward situation at work. On the other hand, he still deserved a little credit for boldness. Well, those are two very different options Julian.

Julian’s reply was almost instant. I CAN HEAR YOUR JUDGEMENT FROM HERE.

Eskel chuckled, Only of your fashion choices, I assure you ;)

Meanwhile, across town, Julian gaped at his phone in amused surprise. He...that bastard winked at me...good. Julian looked over the piles of sequins, florals, polyester, and lycra he’d stripped out of his closet, feeling quite pleased with himself. His eyes tracked to the one chair in his bedroom on which he’d carefully draped his already-ironed outfit for that evening. (Oh come on, give me some credit. I’m not completely helpless. I know how to dress for a date).

Julian shucked off the pants, a favorite, and let the vest fall to the floor. He carefully pulled out a pair of bright, sparkly golden boots and zipped them up to his knees before striding back to the mirror. He snapped a quick picture, cropping it to show just enough and still be considerate of the recipient. His phone shwooped it back to Eskel, and Julian worried his bottom lip while he waited for a reply. Had it been too much?

Eskel’s phone buzzed in his pocket as he handed a coffee and a muffin to a customer. He reticently reached into his pocket. How far was he going to take this? His heart beat a little faster as he opened his phone to reveal the photo. “Yup okay, that’s…” He closed his phone and leaned heavily on the counter, exhaling a little too intentionally.

“Mouth a little dry?” Geralt was beside him holding a glass of water with a slice of cucumber happily floating inside.

“I—what? No, I’m…”

“Texting with the Boy? Just drink the damn water and try to keep it cool.”

“Yeah, that’s great advice, Geralt, thank you.” He drained the water in a few gulps and heavily set the glass back on the steel counter, “Jesus.”

Geralt said nothing, but took the glass away, giving his brother an encouraging pat on the back. His amused laughter was audible, though, as he grabbed his iPad for inventory.

Eskel took a deep breath and opened his phone again: Perfect. You’ll fit right in.

Eskel sighed as the bell on the door chimed three times in quick succession, a line already forming as his new customers looked over the cold case. Right on time. His phone vibrated once more in his pocket while he started taking orders, and he stepped over to the espresso machine as Lambert took over the register.

***

Julian ran his hand through his hair, letting it flop artfully back down as he gave himself one last once-over. He had on a dark pair of jeans which he’d rolled up just high enough to show a peek of his bright fuschia socks, which somehow didn’t class with his red Doc Marten brogues. The shirt he’d actually chosen to wear was navy blue with red, fuschia, and turquoise plaid accents on the inside of the cuffs and collar, pearlescent buttons glinting down the front. He’d arranged his sleeves carefully for an optimal pop of colour, and he’d left just enough buttons open to be both casual and flattering—showing off a hint of chest hair and clavicle—while still being subtle.

Julian’s phone let out a muffled ding from...somewhere in the room. “Shit, where’d I put my…” He hadn’t heard back from Eskel all afternoon. He probably got busy, he told himself, but a part of him still couldn’t help but worry he’d pushed too far too soon. In his joyful impulsiveness, he’d lost track of the fact that they hadn’t really talked about anything—boundaries, preferences, that kind of thing. It made sense that they hadn’t, they’d only just had their first date (kind of). But after the fiasco of the previous night, he’d wanted Eskel to feel wanted, appreciated.

He eventually did find his phone, tucked just barely under the edge of his bed after a somewhat frantic shaky-handed scramble. How it ended up there, he’d never know. A text from Eskel blinked at him from the screen and Julian’s lips turned up in a soft smile as he unlocked his phone with a cold thumb.

Sorry for the late reply, had a bit of a busy day. Just finishing getting ready, can’t wait to see you :)

Julian held his phone to his chest and sighed, happy and relieved, turning to the mirror propped up against his closet door. “Okay, Jules. You can do this. He likes you. He kissed you. He was flirting with you this morning, and you did not scare him off. It’s just dinner. Everything’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be lovely food, and...wait, where are we going again?”

Right on time, his phone dinged again. Here’s the address for the restaurant. Should be about a fifteen minute walk from your place.

Great, thanks. See you soon :) Julian looked at his watch. Shit. “Okay. Time to go.” He paused with his hand on his doorknob, “Uhh, phone, wallet, keys… do I need a jacket? What temperature is it?” It was an awkward temperature. Jacket would be too warm. No jacket would be too cold. “Oh my God, fine, I’ll carry it.” With that, he locked the door behind him and clattered his way down the musty, worn stairs of his walkup and out onto the sidewalk.

Eskel nervously loosened his tie a little, not wanting to look too rigid, and adjusted his sleeves. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. It’s just dinner. He likes you… Jesus, he better like me after all that.” He gave his hair a final mist of salt spray (he may have been out of touch with fashion, but the one thing he would always pride himself on was his hair). His mind wandered back to their kiss the previous night and felt a thrill tingle through him. It had been so unexpected and so… was heartfelt the right word? It had been passionate, but not just in a sexy way—though it had been that, too. Eskel was discovering that Julian was proving himself capable of a great amount of emotional depth as well as unbelievable cheek, and he was genuinely looking forward to seeing him again.

He glanced at his watch. Here’s the address for the restaurant. Should be about fifteen minutes from your place, he typed hastily, wanting to give Julian a grace period in case he really was struggling to figure out what to wear—though Eskel had strong suspicions that he already knew full well what he was planning on wearing and that the morning’s texts had been for his sake alone.

Eskel carefully pulled the tan jacket over his shoulders and peered around his living room in case he’d forgotten anything. His eyes landed on the framed photo above the fireplace. He took a tentative step forward, “Hey, Jo. You’re still lookin’ real good, you know that?” He took a few steps closer, and modeled his outfit. “Not bad, right? I’m, uh, listen, I’m going on a date tonight. I’ve met someone.”

He leaned against the mantle, hands resting on either side of the recently-dusted frame, a melancholy settling over him as he looked at the familiar face. He shok himself out of it, “I think you’d like him. A lot, actually. He’s, well he’s a lot of things, but he’s…he cares. And I think he could make me happy if I play my cards right.” He smiled, “Thought you’d want to know.” He glanced at his watch, “Alright. Wish me luck.”

He gave a loving wink to the photograph and turned to the door, feeling for his keys in his pocket before letting it lock behind him.

The breeze blew gently through his hair as he waited for Julian outside the restaurant, going over the list of Fun Things To Ask On A First Date in an article he had pulled up on his phone. It was a cool evening, but it was clear that winter had more or less had its last laugh: the crocuses were starting to come up in the planters on the sidewalk, and the air had that sweet smell that only came with warmer weather. A beam of sunshine illuminated the sidewalk and passersby as Eskel kept an eye out for his date. He wasn’t waiting long, though, and smiled wide as he caught a glimpse of well-coiffed chestnut hair and a flash of bright blue coming towards him.

Eskel greeted him with a kiss on each cheek, but he was quickly pulled into a firm hug. Julian pulled back so his blue eyes could give Eskel a proper once-over.“You look unbearably handsome, Eskel, how dare you.”

“Julian, you look very nice. Can’t help but notice you’ve worn, let’s see, none of the options you tormented me with this morning.”

“Are you disappointed?” Julian asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope,” Eskel replied simply, opening the door and letting his date enter first.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Julian cooed as he brushed past catching a whiff of mellow cologne—smokey and sweet with hints of cedar and maple. They were greeted by a young woman at the host stand who smiled gently at the two of them.

“Hey, Jess” Eskel smiled in return, carefully placing his hand at the small of Julian’s back.

“Eskel! It’s been a while since you’ve stopped in, I guess the cafe’s keeping you three pretty busy. I’m so glad it’s doing well!” Julian glanced back and forth between the two of them as the gears finally clicked into place. Jess led them to their table, tucked away in a private corner, and Julian slunk into the booth as she walked away.

“You didn’t tell me that this was your dad’s restaurant!?!?!” Julian hissed lightheartedly.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to think my whole family would be watching us,” Eskel cheeked as he filled Julian’s water glass from the carafe on the table, and was met with a quizzical look. “In all honesty, it’s one of the few places I can always get a table on short notice this late in the week. Besides, it’s comfortable.”

A few more gears clicked. Of course. This was a public place where he not only knew the staff, but also knew the space like it was his home: he’d worked the bar, served guests, hosted… He felt a sense of ownership and belonging. It didn’t matter whether people stared and whispered, because he knew the placement of every single piece of glassware and cutlery, and they didn’t. The restaurant itself was like family to him.

Julian nodded understandingly, and grinned as their server approached the table. He was tall, with honeyed skin and dark wavy hair, startlingly green eyes, and an impeccably-groomed goatee. “Hello there, can I interest either of you in any drinks to start off?”

They each ordered a glass of red wine and Eskel sat back, quietly observing his companion. Julian’s sea-blue eyes were flicking back and forth over the menu before him, his brow furrowed at the sheer number of different options, some of which contained ingredients printed in Italian.

“Can I make a recommendation?” Eskel cocked his head with a smirk.

Julian pursed his lips for a moment, glancing up at his date before gluing his eyes back to the menu. “Yes. I am terribly out of my depth.”

“I said the same thing to Lambert last night. Listen, why don’t I order for us, and we can both relax a little?”

Julian’s eyes swept over the menu one last time, “Please, God, yes.”

“Anything you don’t like, aside from spicy?” Eskel asked, taking Julian’s menu from his helpless hands.

“Not a huge fan of alfredos.”

“Well, that’s fine, we’re both drinking red and that doesn’t pair with cream sauce, I wouldn’t allow it, anyway,” he answered back. It was an offhanded comment, but Julian caught the radiant heat off Eskel’s flare of confidence as the restaurateur casually glanced over the menu. This was a different Eskel, completely in his element with absolutely no doubt in his mind that he was correct about every decision he was about to make. Julian wanted to jump across the booth and pick up where they’d left off the night before. Instead, he sipped his wine, savouring the palette as it tingled the back of his throat and warmed his stomach.

“You’re very sexy when you talk about wine pairings.”

Julian watched a pretty pink flush spill up Eskel’s chest and neck, just barely tinging his cheeks. Their server had impeccable timing, choosing that exact moment to make a beeline to their table. “And how are we doing over here? Ready to order?”

He may have been briefly flustered by Julian’s comment, but Eskel’s tone immediately shifted into that of a professional in his home environment, “We’ll start with the carpaccio with the truffle oil, please, and then I’ll have the penne calabrese, and he’ll do the spaghetti carbonara. And could we get a bread basket before the starter, please?”

“Of course. All delicious choices, I’ll get everything started for you.” Their server left them once again, and Eskel felt Julian’s fingers brush over the back of his hand.

“I don’t know how to explain this,” Julian murmured, barely loud enough for Eskel to hear, “but that was incredibly attractive.”

“What, ordering food?” Eskel laughed but didn’t move his hand away. Instead he let himself relax into Julian’s touch.

“Well, yes, but there was more to it.” The musician’s slender fingers gracefully coasted over the landscape of knuckles and veins—accentuated by years of pouring neatly from full bottles and carafes, and carrying water glasses and full plates. “It was your demeanour; the way you held yourself, looked out of your eyes, it all shifted a little. It was subtle, but it’s… sexy.”

Eskel smirked and leaned back in his seat, letting Julian’s fingers lazily fiddle with his, “Really?”

“Yes, really. It’s—you’re confident and in your element. You’re highly skilled.” Julian paused for a moment, scanning this new Eskel in his natural habitat, “You could take over and serve this entire restaurant if you needed to. Couldn’t you?”

“Easily,” Eskel answered, his brow set in easy certainty. His expression quickly softened into an easier smile, and he gave his date a little wink. “But don’t tell the—”

“So sorry to interrupt,” their server had glided his way over to the table with surprising stealth, “but the chef was wondering if he could have a word with you, Eskel.”

Eskel sighed, clearly having wanted to avoid playing Backup Owner for the night, “What, about the order? Or is it something else?”

Their server shook his head, his dark locks shaking over his forehead, “He wouldn’t say, just asked me to bring you back to him for a moment.”

Eskel deflated, looking conflictedly back to Julian. It was part of his life, being in the restaurant business meant being on-call almost any time during business hours for any number of things. Still, if this date was going anywhere meaningful, he didn’t want to start their entire relationship by abandoning him to tend to a work crisis. Julian reluctantly let his fingers drift away from Eskel’s hand, “Go on, I’ll be fine here, it sounds important. Just don’t get roped into working in the kitchen?”

“I may be a workaholic, but I’ve never once abandoned a date at the table. Back in a sec.” Eskel heaved himself out of the booth and followed the waiter around the dining room and through the doors to the kitchen, fully ready to step into his Owner’s Son Who Used To Work Here shoes.

However, it wasn’t the head chef waiting for him. It was… the owner’s son who used to work there.

“Hey! How’s it going out there?”

“Lambert. What are you doing here?”

“Well, you never let me wear my chef’s coat at the cafe, so-”

“Sorry, let me try again: what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Okay, okay, fine, I’m here to spy on your date. Happy?”

“Of course not!”

“You’re both looking good tonight. I mean his shirt? Bold, makes a statement, mature-yet-playful—although I have some questions about his taste in footwear. But hey-hey-hey, is he holding your hand? It looks like it, but I can’t see the wall side of the booth from the pass—”

“Lambert…” Eskel could have sworn he felt his hair actually bristling, “I cannot fucking believe you—that you would have the-the the audacity to think it would be appropriate to just—I mean, on a Thursday. How many people’s schedules did you have to mess up in order to work tonight?! Do you even remember how to be back here?”

“Please, I’m a professional. Like riding a bike.”

A metal spoon fell to the floor with a loud clatter and Eskel took a long, deep breath, “Listen, we’ll talk about this later—and believe me, we will talk about this later—but right now I have a very handsome, very thoughtful, very patient date (who does, in fact, have very soft hands), waiting for me in the dining room.”

“Okay, okay, go, I’ll text you later. But hey, hey, listen: you’re doing great, big guy. Really great. Love the menu for tonight. And the wine pairing? Ballsy to order the wine first but, damn, when you know, you know.”

“Thanks, Bert.”

“Go get ‘im, tiger!”

“Unbelievable,” Eskel muttered as he went towards the kitchen door. “Corner!”

Eskel strode back to their table, and found Julian looking intently at something in front of him, chewing on a slice of bread from the basket that now sat on the edge of the table. As Eskel got closer, he saw it was a phone, and immediately felt the lack of weight in his own pocket.

As if sensing him, Julian looked up, his eyes sparkling under the comfortable lighting in the booth. “W-pray tell, my chivalrous date,” he murmured as Eskel came to a hesitant stop at the edge of their seats, “why do you have a list of Fun Things To Ask On A Date?”

Eskel slowly, carefully slid into his seat across from Julian, feeling the tips of his ears starting to burn. “I-uh...found the article earlier...a-and, well, like you, I was feeling a little nervous... here, you know what, we can just forget you ever saw tha-”

He reached for his phone, but it was quickly held out of reach, “Oh, nononononono, we are so doing this,” Julian smiled wickedly, his chestnut hair flopping as his head bobbed with glee. Eskel dragged his hands up his cheeks and rubbed his eyes dejectedly, glancing around to see if any of their fellow restaurant goers could help free him from the private hell that was going to be the next twenty minutes.

“Question One: What’s one thing you want to ask me but you’re too nervous to?’ Ooooh starting dramatically,” Julian twinkled his fingers for punctuation.

“Oh God, do we really have to—”

“Oh yes. We do. Come on,” Julian waved him on in encouragement, “no wrong answers, I promise. Only a bit of fun.”

Eskel groaned, leaned back in his seat, and folded his hands in his lap. “Alright, fine. How old are you?”

“Twenty-six,” Julian answered without hesitation. “How old are you?”

Eskel grimaced, “Forty-two.”

“And yet you don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Hey, I work in customer service, I know a placation when I see it,” Eskel smirked playfully. “Let’s—can we move on to the next one?”

Julian grinned sympathetically, turning back to the screen. “Question 2: zodiac sign?”

“Hmm, late February, that’s Pisces, right?”

Julian smiled and nodded, “Indeed. I’m a Taurus. Stubborn-yet-endearing, thank you very much.”

“I don’t know all that much about star signs. What does all this mean?”

“Well, it means we’re compatible, in theory. Pisces are generally loyal, empathetic, intuitive, private… Taurus tends to be stubborn, patient—can be a little possessive, but I’m working on that. According to one horoscope, I apparently ‘dislike synthetic fabrics’ which is patently false as previously demonstrated by the contents of my closet.”

“Yes, and thank you for that, by the way. It was worth almost having a heart attack at work.”

Julian winked as he scrolled along down the list. “Glad you enjoyed that, because I know I certainly did. Now, what’s your lOvE lAnGuAgE?”

Eskel frowned, “What’s a ‘love language?’”

“Oh, it’s how you show and accept love. Here,” he opened the quiz on a new tab, “You can do it while I’m in the restroom.”

Eskel gratefully accepted his phone back and watched Julian meander his way to the men’s room. He breezed through the quiz questions, thinking he may as well be with his niece at a slumber party and wondering whether they were going to be playing Never Have I Ever next.

“Physical Touch, apparently,” he answered, pocketing his phone as Julian slid back into the booth.

“Well, we’re proving very compatible this evening. I’m the same. With some gifting thrown in from time to time. Where’d you put the phone?”

“You mean my phone? In my pocket.”

“Well, give it, I want to keep asking you questions!”

Eskel leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand, “No, I don’t think I will. Later. I want us to enjoy ourselves. Actually enjoy ourselves. And the carpaccio will be up soon.” As irritated as he was with his younger brother having commandeered the kitchen, he was looking forward to the promise of an impeccable dinner. He was feeling more relaxed now, largely thanks to the joyful enthusiasm of his date, but he didn’t want to rely solely on the dubious contents of a Cosmo quiz to make a meaningful connection. Julian let himself get lost in the freckled honey-nut-hazel and the secret sadness tucked behind them. Eskel, too, took the opportunity to look, really look, at Julian’s almost-too-blue and the subtle edge hiding amongst the kindness and charisma. And so they just...looked at each other for a moment. No pretense, no joking. Taking each other in.

Julian startled at the sudden sensation, but smiled as he realized Eskel had taken his hand. He’d broken their eye contact to make sure he didn’t knock anything over in the process, but now that he’d found his bearings, the cafe owner looked back across the table to his date, “You know, I… want this to work.”

The young musician’s eyes grew big and his cheeks flushed hot with the sudden outpouring of sincerity. He already cared about Eskel more than he thought he should after so short a time, and it was both a shock and a relief to know that Eskel might be experiencing the same thing. “W—I—”

“I know that it’s early. And I know there’s a lot we still don’t know about each other. And a lot that we’ll need to figure out, and maybe we won’t be what the other needs and that’s fine. We can always go our separate ways. But I want you to know that I’m… taking this seriously.”

Julian tried to put words together, but was cut off by the re-return of their overly-handsome waiter. A large plate of thinly-sliced raw beef tenderloin was presented, prompting an abrupt release of their hands. Eskel thanked the waiter, and Julian’s stomach rumbled as he scrambled a bit to close the gap in their conversation. But what could he say to that?

He intercepted Eskel’s hand on its way to a slice of bread, “Thank you. Really. I’m taking this seriously, too. I mean that.”

Eskel gave a small sideways smile, “Let’s eat.”

Julian carefully took a portion of the carpaccio, set it on his own little plate and took a bite, and oh god the most delightfully combination of flavours and textures met his tongue. They ate contentedly, not sharing many words, but also finding it hard to look away from each other. What an excellent evening. The food was exceptional, the wine was warm and bold—hell, the whole week had been so pleasantly unexpected that they both settled into a kind of trance.

After a few minutes and with not much appetizer left, Eskel topped off their water glasses. “Alright then, my turn,” he said, dusting his hands free of bread crumbs and wiping his mouth on his napkin.

Julian blinked and swallowed abruptly. “For…?”

“Picking the questions,” Eskel pulled his phone back out and kept it well within his grasp. “Come on, there are actually some good ones in here, believe it or not.”

Julian nodded and shrugged, “Ask away.”

Eskel cleared his throat as he scrolled through the list, finally settling on his three questions. He learned that Julian worked days at an artisanal candy shop in town where he was in charge of making marshmallow animals, which he clearly enjoyed as well as having the skill and patience to do. The next question revealed that Julian had an irrational hatred of polenta, and Eskel despised parsnip, citing that they “taste like carrots wearing perfume.” The final question turned the conversation to their childhoods which proved a little more serious. Julian, it turned out, had grown up in a small, predominantly Christian town. Needless to say, his well-meaning, churchgoing parents had had a difficult time adjusting to the fact that their one and only precious little angel was, in fact, undeniably homosexual.

Eskel’s phone found its place in his pocket once more while he collected his thoughts. “I’m sorry if that brought up any—”

“No no, it’s fine! It’s a part of my life, it made me who I am now.” Julian gently set his now-empty plate aside.

“Do you, uhm, are you still in touch?”

“With my parents, you mean? Yes. We had a bit of a rocky start when I came out, but once I shipped off to university and they had some time to think a little, we started over. It’s—they try. They don’t always get it right, but they try.”

“Could be worse, I suppose. Still...”

“Family’s what we make. Sometimes we’re born with family, and sometimes we find it. Sometimes it’s a bit of both. We’ve all come a long way in the last few years.”

“That’s good to hear, I’m happy that they’re able to be supportive.”

Julian nodded, stroking his thumb over the back of Eskel’s knuckles. “Enough of my sob story, your turn. Best part of your childhood.”

“Well, once we got old enough that Lambert wasn’t ‘the baby’ anymore, we started running around causing havoc. Of course, I always tried to keep the peace, but my brothers are fucking maniacs. It’s not that I never got into any mischief myself, I was always just...better at not getting caught. I don’t think that either of them know the definition of the word ‘subtle.’”

“No, not from what I’ve gathered,” Julian smirked as he cast a quick glance at the kitchen doors. Eskel followed his gaze and caught a hint of Lambert’s hair ducking out of view and he shook his head.

“Truly? He is the bane of my existence. I love him to death, but he may end up in the fucking wall tonight,” Eskel sighed, rubbing his weary face as Julian laughed brightly.

Their server came around with their main course, and refilled their wine glasses before leaving them to their dinner. “Now, I know it’s tempting to eat the whole thing,” Eskel began as he dusted fresh parmesan onto their plates from the little bowl between them, “but we do still have dessert. My advice: don’t be a hero. We can bring home leftovers.”

“You’re going to kill me with all of this,” Julian sighed as he spun his fork in the fresh spaghetti before slurping it up. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he tried hard not to make undignified noises at the dinner table. Eskel chuckled joyfully and ripped a slice of bread in half, dipping into some of the sauce. Julian thought if Eskel committed to their…. whatever this was… even half that much as he was committed to his food, he could count himself pretty damn lucky.

“Is this how you grew up eating? Just this? Casually? Every night?” Julian wondered aloud as he continued to stuff his face as gracefully as he could.

Eskel shrugged, “More or less. Of course, we dress it up for the restaurant, and it wasn’t always pasta. Same idea though, especially when Ma was still around. Pops is pretty protective of the recipes nowadays.”

“He’s very protective of all his children, then,” Julian winked, twirling his fork for another mouthful of pasta. “When did—I mean, if you don’t mind the question, when exactly did your mum… uh?”

Eskel smiled, “No, I don’t mind. Geralt was ten, I was nine, Lambert was… five I think? He doesn’t remember much, bits-and-pieces here and there, but Pops gets out the photo albums once a year on Christmas.”

“Wow, so he like, raised you.”

“Pretty much,” Eskel nodded proudly. “He stepped up well. Of course, everybody makes mistakes. But here we are! He kept us all alive, and that wasn’t an easy feat.”

Julian shook his head with a laugh, “No, I bet not. I imagine he’s proud of you, though.”

Eskel shrugged, “Yeah. We try not to bring too much shame on the family.” A little hazel-eyed wink lightened the mood and the two continued to enjoy their meal and each others’ company. Eventually, Julian pushed his plate back.

“I absolutely cannot eat anymore if I’m going to have dessert. This was delicious.”

“I’m glad you liked it. It’s a favourite of mine.” Eskel got the attention of their waiter, “Could we get these boxed up please?”

“Absolutely. Any interest in dessert?”

“Two espressos and a tiramisu, please. And two spoons. Thanks.”

As they waited for their dessert, Julian reached across the table, waggling his fingers for Eskel’s phone. “My turn, please!”

Eskel begrudgingly handed Julian his phone, and he immediately opened the page back up. “Are you… a morning or a night person?”

“Night. I hate mornings.”

“Ironic, since you chose to open a coffee shop.”

“I know. I still haven’t forgiven myself. You?”

“I can be a morning person if I need to be, but I prefer staying up late. I write better in the evenings.”

“You have about a minute and a half before the espresso gets here,” Eskel said with a smirk, his ears having pricked at the sound of the espresso grinder kicking on.

“Okay, okay. Last one: why didn’t your last relationship work?”

Eskel went quiet. Cleared his throat. Stared at his hands on the tabletop. “I’m not going to avoid that question, Julian, but I’m going to table it for now because I don’t want to answer it here. Later,” he added with an affectionate touch to the back of Julian’s hand.

The musician tilted his head sympathetically, “Of course. And obviously, you don’t have to tell me. But if you want to, I’ll listen whenever it feels right.”

Eskel nodded and straightened his tie, giving himself something to do with his hands. “Thank you. I do want to. Just...not right this second.”

“I completely understand,” Julian reassured him before chancing a glance at the kitchen door which was swinging suspiciously.

The waiter returned with their parceled pastas, and then once again shortly after with a beautifully layered, barely-holding-together tiramisu, and their coffee.

Eskel sipped on his espresso as Julian daintily dug into the dessert-y corner nearest him: it was the creamiest, moistest, most delicately sweetened tiramisu he’d ever tasted. “Dear sweet Baby Jesus and the Mother... Eskel—and I need you to answer me honestly—do you, or do you not, know how to make this? Because if you do, I—you’re not going to have to work very hard to keep me around.”

Eskel smirked and set his now half-empty cup down, “It’s a family recipe, we can all make it. It was kind of a rite of passage growing up. You know Papa trusted you in the kitchen when he put you on Dessert Duty.”

“Maybe you could teach me someday?”

Eskel narrowed his eyes over the rim of his small demitasse cup, “Hmm maybe. Not yet, though. I still have no proof you’re not working for a rival restaurant. Someday. For now, I have to entertain the possibility that you’re a double agent.”

He took his own hearty spoonful and flashed Julian a bright smile as he chewed. Lambert had prepped this. He could tell. Every element was executed with clinical precision, from the saturation of the biscuits to the subtle eggy sweetness of the custard—even the dusting of cocoa on top was perfectly proportioned with the rest of it. Lambert had truly, from start to finish, outdone himself, and Eskel couldn’t help but think his younger brother’s hijacking of the kitchen was about more than just spying on his date. No, he’d wanted it to be perfect, as good as it possibly could be; though of course he’d never say it. He didn’t have to. Lambert was a snarky pain in the ass with a heart the size of a cruise ship. This was him saying it.

Having polished off the remains of their dessert and espresso, Eskel went to the restroom and settled the bill while Julian put on his jacket, and the two made their way to thank the hostess one last time before heading into the now-dark evening. As they approached the host stand, however, Eskel stopped walking. He was in earshot now, and didn’t like what he was hearing.

“...don’t understand, what about that table?” An irritated middle-aged man and his dinner companion were standing in the doorway.

“Once again, sir—and I’m very sorry—but that table is reserved and there’s a one-hour wait without reservations.” Jess was clearly flustered, but holding her own as Eskel hovered nearby.

“Well, then, where are the people whose table that is?” The man blustered, pointing to a recently-vacant, un-bused table.

“I’ve phoned them, and have been assured they’ll be here within their five-minute wind—”

“You know what, that’s okay, we’re going to take a seat, thank you,” the man pushed past, no longer even looking at Jess, clearly speaking solely for the purposes of shutting her up. On his way, he collided with the broad-chested, half-Italian-half-Polish son of the restaurant’s proprietor.

“That table’s reserved,” Eskel said, coolly. Julian felt a shiver down his spine as this new Eskel he’d caught glimpses of all night took full form. He seemed to occupy twice the amount of space he had before and the vague threat of physical force loomed in the distance like a far-off thunderstorm. Oh my. Julian took a few measured steps back, not sure quite what to expect. Still, it wasn’t fear that whirled in the pit of his stomach. Rather it was something much warmer, a mix of admiration and curiosity that turned over and over as he watched the scenario unfold.

“Excuse me?” The man’s watery eyes flashed indignantly as he looked Eskel up-and-down. He scowled and made to step around, “Mind your own business.”

“This is my business.” Eskel once again put himself between man and table. “To be more precise, it’s my father’s business, but we’re a close family.”

“Well, then, you should train your staff better. This girl has absolutely no idea what she’s doing. We have a reservation! We told her we had a reservation, and now she’s telling us we have to wait an hour because of her incompetence. It’s a liability to your business, having staff that can’t handle simple things like reservations, can’t keep track of a simple thing like that, you ought to fire that girl!”

Eskel looked over the man’s head to Jess who shook her head, shrugging helplessly as she pointed to the reservation list. “This woman,” Eskel continued, “has been with us for seven years and has helped us to streamline and optimize our reservation system at least three different times. She’s more than competent, she’s an asset, and now I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You think you can come into my father’s restaurant—any restaurant—and insult the hostess, refuse to abide by carefully structured systems and policies, and force your way to a table that’s meant for someone else? There is no table for you this evening.”

Julian’s eyes widened as he watched from his safe distance, pretending to scroll on his phone so as not to draw attention to the fact that he was hanging onto every word of this interaction. Eskel was magnificent: grounded and calm, his tone still polite but inarguably authoritarian. Julian would stake his life on Eskel not being a violent person if he could avoid it, but for someone his size, even the vaguest possibility of an altercation would be enough to make an opponent question their choices.

“What?!” the man blustered again, utterly aghast at being denied.

“I will repeat myself once: you are not welcome in this restaurant tonight. Within five minutes of walking through that door, you’ve abused and disrespected the staff, and abused and disrespected the policies of this establishment. I wish you and your companion a pleasant dining experience elsewhere.” The crossed arms as a final punctuation were almost over-the-top, but the gesture drove the point home.

Julian glanced over to Jess. She was clearly finding the whole experience immensely gratifying (who wouldn’t? It was every service worker’s dream come true). But there was something more behind her relieved expression that told Julian she was also deeply touched. It was easy to see why: Eskel at peak protectiveness may as well have been a lioness or a mother bear warding off a potential threat to her young. Besides, he was clearly enjoying himself.

“Unbelievable. This is unacceptable. I’ll make sure the Star and the Herald hear about this.”

Eskel said nothing, but gestured with an open palm towards the exit, taking a few steps forward. The irritant had no choice but to vacate the premises. There was a moment of silence as the dust settled and after a deep breath, it was Eskel who broke the silence, “Sorry about that, Jess. Are you okay?” He tapped her elbow in familiar reassurance. She nodded, taking a sip of water. It was fine, she was just a little flustered. “Want to step out for a minute or two? I can watch the door. That is—if…” he gestured to Julian, having suddenly remembered exactly why he was there in the first place. He received a flippant wave and a shrug (‘yes of course you can send the flustered hostess on a break’) and took Jess’s place at the host stand while she went through the kitchen to get some fresh air.

When she returned, Lambert poked his head out the kitchen door and whistled to get Eskel’s attention, “‘Ey! Tutto bene?” All good?

“Stiamo bene.” We’re fine, Eskel answered with an easy shrug. “Chiamerei Papà.” I’ll call Dad. He held the door once again for Julian as they made their exit, pausing to say goodnight to Jess with a familial kiss on the cheek and a reminder that his number was still on speed-dial for a reason. The two stepped out of the restaurant and,—after a final pause for Eskel to call Papa Vesemir and explain what happened—fell into a slow and comfortable amble.

The two of them walked leisurely, their shoulders bumping back forth for a while. Julian glanced up into the sparkling stars overhead and back down to where the moon shone over Eskel’s skin. He noticed that Eskel seemed a little tense, and he knew that it wasn't because of the most-recent incident. No, a question was pressing very loudly into the creases of Eskel’s forehead, and Julian so desperately wanted to know the answer—not to be nosy, but so that he could help in some way, maybe. But in the last few days he’d already gotten the sense that Eskel was a private man, and that any amount of prying would only lead to friction.

Eskel’s hand fidgeted nervously with the keys in his pocket as they wandered down the ambling side streets of Little Italy—most of them one-way with barely a car in sight in contrast with the busy main drag. He thought back to the photo above his fireplace. If he was going to take this step, it was now or never. If it went badly, there was no great loss. A good few dates, maybe the possibility of something more, but no heartbreak. If he waited, he would only run the risk of making things much worse for much longer. They wandered into a small park where a modest bridge stretched over a pond filled with ducks and small fish. They crossed halfway and stopped in the middle, relaxing in the little pocket of nature tucked away inside the large city.

Eskel took a deep breath, worrying his lower lip slightly with his teeth, and Julian couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched him gather his thoughts, wondering exactly what information he was about to be smacked with. Does he have a secret family no one knows about? Maybe he’s a secret agent. That’d be coo- no, Jules, stay on task, he’s clearly going through it.

“So…” Eskel kept his eyes trained on the far side of the pond, watching the ducks float and mingle under the stars.

“So…” Julian said, resting his elbows gently on the old, weathered wood of the bridge rail.

“You asked earlier about my last relationship, and I would like for you to have an answer.” Eskel sighed and ran his hand down his face, discreetly scratching at the long scar on his cheek. “It’s...it’s not a happy story, I’m afraid.”

Julian stayed quiet, letting Eskel take the time he needed to say whatever it was he needed to say. His hand twitched to reach for him, but he pulled back. Let him have space. Does he need space? What if he doesn’t want space? Damnit, Julian, he’s a grown man, he’s fine just let him… be.

Eskel turned and leaned against the railing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. When he spoke, his words felt rough in his throat, but it felt good to be saying them. Felt right. “I was married before.” Julian’s eyes widened as he raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know why, but Eskel had given off a strong bachelor vibe, not at all what he would have expected from someone who’d already been settled down before. “College sweethearts, got married the summer after we graduated, got situated together as best we could—you know, nice apartment, grown-up furniture, houseplants. We made plans to move out of the city, saved up enough to put a small downpayment on a home somewhere quieter. And we did. Front lawn, backyard, space for a garden. It wasn’t much and it was right by the tracks, but it was ours. Packed everything up, rented a U-Haul (we didn’t have much stuff)... A week and two days after we moved in, a drunk driver ran a red going 100 in a 50 zone and ploughed into the passenger side door—damn near tore the car in half. I wasn’t alone.”

“Oh, shit,” Julian breathed, his eyes welling with tears, “I-I don’t know what to say, except I am so sorry…”

Eskel shook his head, still adamantly staring into the distance, his voice a little thick, “Thank you, Julian, you don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to know. I’ve moved on, but I still love her, if that makes any sense.”

“I understand. Thank you.” Julian rested a hand on Eskel’s shoulder, and received a grateful squeeze from Eskel’s hand as it came to meet his. “So… I do have one question. If it’s alright, if not I can save it for another time if you’d rather not—”

Eskel shrugged dismissively, “No, no, it’s all on the table, you should be able to ask. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just… you said… her?”

Eskel nodded, “Yes.”

“So you…”

“Found someone I loved.”

Julian nodded, feeling the tears finally break through and trickle down his cheeks, cooling in the night air. He cleared his throat, “Eskel? Could I maybe—unless you want some space, which is fine, you can just tell me but—could I hold your hand? I just, I feel like I want to but don’t know if you—”

Eskel slid his hand over the rail and grabbed onto Julian’s hand, their fingers intertwining gently. Julian squeezed, scooting a little closer to Eskel so that he could feel the warmth radiating from beneath his soft suede jacket. Julian sighed softly, mirroring Eskel as they both looked over the water. “Why now? Why me?”

Eskel finally looked over, and Julian met his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright and full of mourning and pain and something lighter, something that felt a lot like hope. “I think you came along at a good time.”

“Did you… I mean… have you been with many—”

“I’ve gotten all the rebound out of my system if that’s what you mean,” Eskel smirked brightly and Julian was surprised at the relief he felt to see joy come back to his companion’s face. He nudged Julian’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. At least, when it comes to people. Clothing is a different story, I’ve said as much myself. I like you, Julian. And I meant what I said about taking this seriously. You know, I… this might sound odd, but I like the way you make me feel. It’s a good feeling. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to kiss you.”

It was slow and fluid, the way Eskel turned to face Julian, gently sandwiching him between the bridge railing and his own warm body. He didn’t crowd, didn’t press, but the soft wool of his sweater met the crisp cotton of Julian’s button-down and a thrill turned in Julian’s stomach as two large hands cradled the sides of his face. Julian swallowed and reached a tentative hand to Eskel’s right cheek. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but almost leaned into the musician’s cool fingers as they traced the jagged lines.

“May I?” Eskel’s whisper was almost plaintive and Julian could feel his breath trembling as he nodded.

Their lips crashed together and they both breathed deep in a mutual swell, noses filling with cologne and freshly laundered clothing, and the crisp smell of dampness that rose from the chilly water below them. Lips, hands, tongues, hair, bodies pressed closer, their breaths misting in the cool spring air. Only the soft sounds of sleepy ducks and the latent rumble of distant traffic could be heard as the two sunk into each other, relished one another. For Eskel, it was part-relief, part-comfort, hope and reassurance. For Julian it was also hope, but a hope that he could be good enough, be someone for Eskel to rely on, trust in. And so far, much to his amazement, he seemed to be succeeding.

When they did finally part for air, neither of them seemed keen to stray far. Eskel leaned his forehead against Julian’s, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath. Julian, however, couldn’t keep his eyes still, drinking in every ounce of Eskel that he could reach. “You, uh…” Eskel swallowed in a gulping breath, “you still have time to run for the hills.”

Julian chuckled and touched their lips back together sweetly, unhurried, a soft peck in the moonlight. “I’m not running anywhere, I promise.”

Julian could feel Eskel’s smile pressing into his own lips, and he knew he was a goner. “Good. That’s very good…”

They stood there for a while more, lingering in each other’s space as the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, hazy and golden. Though, as more clouds threatened to cover the stars in a dewy mist, Eskel murmured in Julian’s ear, taking his hand and leading him down the path towards Julian’s apartment. They took their time walking back, chatting quietly, sometimes playfully bumping shoulders until they finally reached Julian’s door. It was late, almost 10pm as they stood at the front of the walkup, both feeling slightly chilly.

“I would invite you in but… roommate. And I haven’t told her I’m seeing anyone, so. Not that I expect—er, I mean, whatever you, uh—”

“We’ll figure it out,” Eskel said calmly with a hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Plenty of time.”

With that, they said goodnight, and Eskel promised, once again, to text when he got home.

Meanwhile, Lambert had his back pressed up against the side of the restaurant, its windows dark and oblivious to the shenanigans taking place in its side alley. The usurping chef moaned as his bottom lip was gently pressed between a set of teeth, tugging gently, wantonly, with the promise of leaving him tender and swollen and wanting for nothing by the end of the evening. He knew what Lambert wanted, the smarmy asshole was an open book, and the waiter was always happy to oblige. Besides, Lambert wasn’t the only one getting something out of it. Oh no, this was an equal transaction, enthusiastically participated in by both parties.

Lambert threaded his fingers into thick, dark waves of hair and swallowed the moan he received in response. He felt the pair of hands around his waist slide down to his backside and squeeze tightly, grinding their hips together sloppily, desperately.

“I uh-” Lambert gasped between their lips, “I wanted to thank you again for helping out tonight, Aiden. It uh, I know how much Eskel needed that and-”

“Quit being such a sap and shut up so I can kiss you,” Aiden growled, pushing Lambert harder against the cold brick wall at his back and Lambert was very quickly at a loss for words. Did he have to be up at the ass-crack of dawn to go into the cafe? Yes. Was this just the beginning of a—hopefully—very long night? Aiden hooked a finger in Lambert’s belt and began tugging him towards his car. Yes, yes it was.

***

#family business #collab #eskel/jaskier #eskel/julian #fluff #modern au

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koeyohte · 3 years

Text

It’s bright in the hallway. Sunlight streams in from the expansive glass doors and windows just a few steps away in the atrium. The campus has received many remodels in the past few years and I’m fortunate to be taking two of my semester’s classes in this airy building.

I’ve never been good with school. Other students could casually discuss what they’d learned or cram their study session in the night before an exam and do just fine. I’ve always needed extra help - after hours work from the teachers, tutors, extravagant memory solutions. I’d finished high school last year and now was waiting, alone, outside a closed wood door where my english literature class would take place; not for a while though, I think, glancing down at my phone. I’m always early to class. For now, I’m sitting on the floor, plucking at stray fibers of material from my jean shorts and wondering if wearing leggings would have been a better idea. The tile is a cold shock to my skin whenever I touch it.

I’ve been taking this class for three weeks now - two days in each of those weeks on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I look hopefully down the hallway, toward the atrium. There’s usually a quiet young man who arrives early and waits across from me. He keeps to himself and is always reading something. I think he’s nice to look at, though I would never admit it out loud. He’s a bit unusual looking - angular features compliment a frame that’s thin and wiry, but with broad shoulders that make him appear larger than he likely really is. His hair falls just past his shoulders, which is unusual around here. I’ve never seen a man around my age with long hair. When I’m sitting on the floor, he seems rather tall, but when I’m standing, he’s actually about the same height as me. I don’t know anything about him but it’s nice to share the otherwise lonely wait in the hallway with him. I feel like there’s something calm and even comforting about him, though I’m not really sure why.

Twice, I’ve switched up what side of the hall I stand on, just to see what he’ll do. He stood farther away during the first week but after I accidentally dropped my notes and he picked them up for me in the second week, he’s been standing a little closer, still always across from me. I remember noticing a narrow but long scar across his wrist when he handed me my notepad. His hands were rather rough when they brushed mine. He hardly met my eyes and was quick to move away again, like he was uncomfortable with being near me. The dark circles under his eyes were much more apparent up close.

I look up when I hear the doors of the atrium open and my heart skips a beat.

He’s buried in his phone just like he has been every day before. He makes his way down the hall, barely looking up even once, and comes to lean against the wall opposite me like he always does. He looks past his phone to nod at me, which I wasn’t expecting. I try to smile at him but it comes out like more of a grimace. He doesn’t seem offended and brushes his long hair from his face while he continues to read. His hair is a strange, dark blond color and it frames his sharp features in a way that makes it difficult for me to look away. He doesn’t seem to attract much attention from anyone else but I realize as I stare at him that I find him oddly handsome.

I guess that explains why I’ve randomly thought about him more than a few times this past week. That’s new for me.

Confused by my revelation, I look away before he can notice. I don’t even know his name. There’s a subtle smoky scent that I now recognize is coming from his bag. It’s sweet and herbal rather than stale and dusty. His clothes are the same as always - a button down, earth-toned shirt with dark grey slacks. He looks like he should be working in an office.

He doesn’t say much and he won’t speak unless spoken to. I’m not sure if that’s just how he is, or if it’s a manners thing, or if he actually despises small talk. He seems too buried in deep thought for it, from my observations. He’s always reading something, whether a book in his hand or something on his phone. I can tell they’re not text messages by the way he brings the phone up and stares at it while occasionally scrolling for the entire 20 minutes we usually stand in the hallway.

It’s surprising and a bit bewildering to admit that I like looking at him, but it’s true. That being said, I find just about everyone nice to look at in some way. It’s confusing sometimes. I’ve never felt anything more for anyone, though, despite being pursued more than once. It just hasn’t happened yet I guess. I’m in no rush, so it’s alright with me. Unintentional flings don’t seem enjoyable and I can’t imagine being so intimate and open with someone who doesn’t plan to be there in the future. Unlike Sun, I think to myself - she’s been with lots of people, and while some of them still spend time with her just as friends, others have left a bad taste in my mouth. She’s easily forgiven them. Or forgotten. Maybe both.

Someone else walks between us and when I glance up, I’m surprised when the man across the hall looks quickly away from me. I watch him for a moment, wondering how long he was staring. Maybe he wasn’t. Instead of looking back at me, he scratches at his chin and tucks his phone away, looking at something over my head. I find myself glancing upwards, assuming there’s a flyer I must have missed, but there’s nothing there. When I look back at him, he’s watching me again, but he startles.

“Sorry,” he mutters and looks away. He sticks his hands into his pockets and avoids my gaze. I’m not sure what to say. That it’s okay? That sounds weird, possibly even creepy. Should I ask him if something’s amiss? That might be weirder.

He’s looking at me again and this time, he doesn’t shy away from my own gaze. His light eyes trail down to my knee, where I realize he’s eyeing a small cut from where I had banged it on one of Sun’s short coffee tables last week. He looks like he wants to speak but he’s holding himself back.

“Ran into a table,” I say awkwardly, gesturing at the wound. It’s just a small red line now. The man looks back to my eyes and nods.

“Looks recent,” he says after a moment. His voice is mellow and lighter than I expected it to be. He sits in the first row, close to me in our class, yet I’ve rarely heard him speak; certainly not more than a simple yes or no. “Not from this week, though.”

I tilt my head at him, surprised he can tell. “How’d you know?”

Something passes across his face. He looks almost disappointed - or angry? “I’ve seen a lot of… cuts,” he mutters. He shakes his head but falls silent again. His expression is mellow as he stares at the tiles between us. Relaxed, he’s very nice to look at.

I feel myself start when he blinks up at me again. I’m wracking my mind for something to say. There’s a palpable tension in the air - either that, or I’m just incredibly nervous, for some reason.

“What happened to your wrist?” I blurt, glancing at the pale pink line that reaches over his skin. He pushes his hand further into his pocket and I fear I’ve crossed some invisible boundary with him.

“Nothing,” he responds quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper. His posture is stiff now and he’s avoiding my gaze, so I don’t press him.

“What do you do?” I ask, hoping a change in subject will make him feel more at ease.

“Metal shop,” he mutters simply. He’s still not looking at me. Deciding he’s done with the conversation, I just nod and go back to my phone. Sun’s sent me a picture of some plants she wants to buy for her patio.

“What about you?” he asks after a moment. I’m glad that he’s not giving up so soon. He still looks upset, or frustrated, but his posture’s relaxed a bit.

“Just… this right now. I’ve been around.” I pause, realizing how that sounds. “I mean - I’ve had a few odd jobs. Nothing serious. Coffee shops, library, things like that.”

At mention of the library, the man perks up. “What did you do there?”

“Just inventory, organizing shelves, scheduling shipments from one branch to another.” I watch his features change, almost dramatically, from brooding and gloomy to fascination.

“I assume that means you like to read?” he asks, standing up straighter. He takes his hands from his pockets and folds them. He crosses one leg over the other and suddenly appears much more comfortable than he ever has in the hallway. The newfound engagement on his face makes him much nicer to look at.

“I do,” I begin, but before he can ask me what most everyone does, I hurry on, “but mostly nonfiction. I had to focus on school for so long, I hardly had time to read for fun reading. I’m just now getting into it again.”

To my surprise, he nods as if he understands. Most people find what I’ve said to be ridiculous, or a poor excuse to avoid reading as a hobby.

“I’m like that sometimes, too,” he says. “I’m always reading something, though reading purely for enjoyment is something I only very rarely get to do. I’m….” He tilts his head to the side and sighs as though he’s about to tell me something ludicrous. “I’m in the midst of a collection of European cavalry history, right now.”

I nod, unsure of what to say. It doesn’t sound particularly appealing to me, but I can understand the draw for someone who knows more already than I do. I try to smile in place of empty words, and the man drops his gaze to the floor again.

I notice a tear in the belt loop of my shorts and start to pull at it. They’re one of my favorites, as they actually fit. I have exceptionally wide hips, so everything is either too tight in the thighs or too loose everywhere else. I grumble when the string gets caught on my ring. I wear a thin silver band around my ring finger on my left hand - I grew tired of people trying to hit me up. Free from the devious string, I glance down the hall, but first I steal a glance at my classmate.

I nearly startle when I notice his eyes are resting on me again. It looks like he meant to just glance at me but upon noticing my staring, now he is too, in an effort to hide his intention. Whatever it was.

My heart is pounding in my ears. I can feel my pulse in my chest.

“Jeans,” I say weakly, shrugging at the string in my hand. The young man nods once. I see him swallow and lower his phone from his face.

“I had a sister who wore a lot of them,” he says slowly, as though he’s considering each word before he speaks.

I notice how he chose his words - “had” a sister. I offer him a polite smile.

“I’ve never had a sister.”

“Brothers?” the man asks. I shake my head. He shrugs. “More resources for yourself.”

I open my mouth to respond, then realize that nothing natural comes to mind. What an odd thing to say.

“I suppose,” I finally say. He had started to look at his phone again but when I speak, he pauses.

“You suppose?”

I look away. There’s an edge to his tone that wasn’t there previously. He seems frustrated with my comment. His brows lower and the creases along his mouth deepen. Whatever attraction I did feel toward him fades slightly. The man straightens himself up and tucks his phone into his pocket.

“You don’t get anything to yourself with six siblings,” he elaborates. A subtle, tired smile flashes across his face at my expression of surprise. “That’s all I meant.”

Realizing that he noticed my disenchantment with his tone, I begin to feel guilty.

“It’s alright,” I manage, hoping he’ll forgive my reaction. I’ve always been sensitive to people’s behavior. I assume it has something to do with a handful of particular years during my childhood. My mother went through something that I was too young to understand, but I didn’t miss the things she did and said to me before she found herself again. I’m quick to assume the worst from people rather often. It’s something Sun likes to remind me about, if she isn’t criticizing my willingness to help people.

“Seven of you?” I ask, realizing the man is still watching me.

He nods. “We’re fosters… so, none of us are really related. Different ages, come from different places….” He looks suddenly uncomfortable and trails off, looking away. He sticks his hands back into his pockets, shoulders slumping. He looks like he wishes he hadn’t told me.

“That must be difficult. I can’t imagine that.”

“Hmm.” The young man looks back to me. “It can be.”

A few other classmates are starting to arrive. I’m disappointed that we don’t get the hall to ourselves anymore. The man pulls his phone back out and resumes his reading like I’m not there at all. I get the distinct impression that his foster family is something he doesn’t speak about much and probably didn’t mean to offer to me.

The rest of the wait goes by as usual. Relative silence in the hall is replaced by shuffling shoes, the rustling of paper, the clamoring of heavy books against tile, and chatter.

The door to the classroom opens, the last of the previous class files out, and the professor beckons us inside. I take my place in the front row, all the way over to the right, where I’ve made a corner against the far wall. The man follows and sits two seats away like he always does. The professor does all the talking, until discussion time. My quiet companion and I aren’t exactly fans of speaking to the class. The professor hasn’t called on us yet and she doesn’t this week, either.

Once dismissed, I gather my things and wait patiently for the young man to take his so I can leave. He’s shuffling papers in his bag and muttering to himself. He looks upset, so I pretend to read a message, but am glad to see one from Sun to respond to anyway. She’s got some exciting news about a new girlfriend, it seems. I begin to type a reply but the man groans and moves aside, pinning himself uncomfortably against the table.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Go ahead.” He waits for me to pass him and I notice how he recoils further as I do, as if being near another person disgusts him. His knuckles are white against the table and he’s turned his head away from me like he’s afraid I’ll look too closely. I try not to think too much about it, hoping it’s not personal to me. I pause just after him when I notice the way he paws frantically through his things.

“You okay?” I ask, lowering my phone. He looks up.

“Yes. I just… lost something.”

“Can I help?” I start to move closer but he quickly straightens up, picks up the bag and sighs heavily.

“No. Thank you.” Clearly frustrated, he strides past me toward the classroom door. I’m surprised when he holds it open and looks expectantly at me. I thank him and sweep out into the hall.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask again when he trudges past me. He frowns.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t seem fine. He seems to be silently fuming. His brows are low and the creases in his face are deep. I remind myself that I don’t know him and it’s best to leave him be. Despite the way my feelings get carried away so easily, I have to remind myself that they shouldn’t choose my decisions for me. It’s very difficult, especially when I see someone upset or in need. Sun likes to tease me about it, telling me I’ll spread myself thin trying to provide more attention to everyone I’ll ever meet than I ever do for myself.

Some days, I think she’s right.

I leave my disgruntled classmate behind and go to stand outside, waiting for my mother to pull the car up. We share the vehicle, so she dropped me off today. She had work for a few hours while I was on campus and doesn’t always get off on time. I could be waiting here awhile.

I look up when someone comes to stand next to me. It’s my classmate, and he’s fidgeting like he’s distressed or like something is wrong. His hands are flexing like he’s in pain and he’s gritting his jaw. I don’t ask him this time if he’s okay. He’s staring straight ahead as if I’m not there.

“You getting picked up?” he asks suddenly. I nod and ask him the same. He barely hides a scoff. “Ah - no. They would never… no. I just....” He frowns and looks down. “Nevermind.”

“Wait.” I follow him as he steps back toward the building. He looks strangely on edge, like a frightened, injured animal. I feel myself hiding an eye roll at the way he stares at me like I’ve caused him further upset. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask if you’re alright - but... do you need anything?”

He looks offended until he realizes why. “I’m sorry,” he begins, turning around to face me again. His voice is thin and suddenly soft. There’s something gentle in the way he speaks to me now. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not… socializing isn’t my strong suit.” He looks sheepishly away again, hand anxiously rubbing at the strap of his backpack. I can see how worn it is there. “You don’t… have a lighter, do you?”

That’s what the herbal smell was.

“Sorry, no.” I don’t have anything against smoking, but I’ve never done it myself. Sun does, sometimes. I’ve sat in her room in the cloudy, sweet haze while her company languished around, discussing things they weren’t ever quite relaxed enough to allow themselves the luxury of doing before. It’s a great time it seems, but I won’t try it with so many strangers around. I trust Sun with my life, but she has a lot of strangers in her room sometimes. Some come and go swiftly and others stay for weeks.

The man casts me a small smile. I hate how charming he looks like that.

“Darn. Hope you won’t think any less of me for it, anyways.”

“What makes you so sure I’m thinking about you at all?”

I’ve spoken before thinking. I feel my face flush bright red. He blinks at me for a moment, then looks away. Neither of us say anything for several breaths. The tension is stifling.

I close my eyes and shake my head at myself.

“That - that was… I didn’t mean it like that.”

The man laughs quietly and I see him reach up to scratch distractedly at the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. He looks shabby but in a confusingly enticing way.

“‘S alright,” he mumbles. I allow myself to look at him for a moment while he’s busy looking anywhere else but at me. His face is lightly shadowed and his sharp features cast sunlight across his forehead and the bridge of his hooked nose. His eyes are light, unlike my own. As I look, I notice pretty, almost yellow centers. I’ve heard of heterochromia but I can’t tell from here if that’s what’s there for sure.

He looks at me again and I notice out of my peripheral vision that my mother’s little blue car is turning into the driveway.

“My mom’s here,” I announce, unsure of how else to proceed. The tension is still there but it’s not as taut. The man looks up and backs away from me as though he shouldn’t be seen so close. He’s chewing his lip but as the car pulls up to a stop, he just looks away from me again.

“See you,” he says, and turns back into the building before I can even respond. I open the passenger door and climb in, not allowing myself to stall, and glad when my mother doesn’t ask any questions.

#modernAU #short story #ch1 #idk what im calling this yet

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misssunflowersandsangria · 3 years

Text

Clover

Happy @yamanaka-week ! I love everyone’s submissions so far! I kind of combined two different prompts but I’m still late. Forgive me! This one explores Inoichi and his wife’s relationship which I took a ton of creative liberties with because I can and there’s very little information about them. Hope you enjoy it!

Prompt: Flowers and Legacy

Flower Inspiration: The flower symbol of this clan is the bush clover which symbolizes a "positive love".

Summary: Inoichi wasn’t expecting to meet her during his shift at the flower store. She was beautiful, sweet, and fascinating. It wasn’t easy for him to express himself but he found that flowers were always the answer.

Clover

Inoichi sighed, staring at the people that passed by the window. He’d rather be out there enjoying the sunshine or on a mission. Caring for the store was part of his responsibilities though.

He’d already helped a few people that morning including Shikaku. He was buying a bouquet for some unnamed troublesome woman. To which he’d teased his teammate relentlessly.

Despite how he might complain about working at the store there were some perks and he provided an important service to the Leaf. He couldn’t count the number of confused and flustered men that he helped that came in. Who were looking to either impress or to appease someone. The comfort he offered when arranging flowers for memorials was immeasurable. Or the hope he shared when people stopped by before their visit to the hospital. Whatever the occasion or reason, flowers were always the answer and he was happy to provide them.

Still, days like this were long and boring.

The bell rang jarring him from a quick nap. He looked up, seeing a beautiful, unfamiliar face. She had chestnut brown hair styled perfectly at the top of her head. Her clothes were clearly expensive from the intricate embroidery to the gold buttons. Her eyes though were soft, warm, and brown. Glittering in excitement at seeing the various arrangements.

He felt a bit self-conscious in his store apron but put on his best grin.

“May I help you?”

She shot up surprised at his voice. “Oh, yes. I need to order an arrangement to be picked up in a few days.”

“Sure, I can help with that. Anything in particular?”

She looked around avoiding his gaze. “It’s for my um future in-laws.”

He was a little disappointed by the revelation but continued to collect a few stems. “You don’t seem too excited.”

“No, that’s not it. They’re a wonderful family. My fiancé just isn’t who I thought I’d end up with. But I guess arranged marriages are like that.” She sighed gently touching a rosebud.

“Have you met him before?”

“A few times, he’s a family friend but there’s no attraction there. We’re better as friends. He knows it too but family responsibility wins out .” She knew that it was wrong to complain. She could have been forced to marry some horrible, unknown man but it still wasn’t what she wanted from marriage. Her family was part of high society and wealthy. This was just how things were done in their world. A simple life with a man she loved was all she really wanted though.

Inoichi hated the disappointment clear on her face. As an attempt to distract her he broke off the flower from a stem to place it casually behind her ear. Her skin flushed at the soft touch.

“Help me pick out a few flowers. I’ve found that being around them helps clear the mind.”

They spent the afternoon together as he asked more about her past and future plans. He taught her about the different flowers and their meanings. She was sweet and attentive. He was charming and knowledgeable.

Inoichi found her to be fascinating and beautiful. Her company was welcomed and wanted. As the afternoon shifted towards evening he hated the idea of saying goodbye.

“What’s this?” She asked, seeing the small flower he held out to her.

“It’s my clan’s flower. A purple bush clover. They stand for optimistic love.”

He placed the small blossom in her hand but held onto her fingers. “Stay positive perhaps you’ll find that love you’re looking for.” She blushed brightly at the gentle gesture, taking the delicate flower in her hand.

“Perhaps I will. Will you be here tomorrow? My family will be here for a few days. It would be nice to have someone show me around.” Even she was surprised by the request. She would have to make up a story to her mother but it was worth it to see the handsome man again.

“I’d like that.”

—

“Are you sure you want to do this? Her parents and the clan will probably kill you.” Choza was surprised by the late-night, last-minute request from his friend and teammate. He and Shikaku were sure that Inoichi lost his mind.

Inoichi just nodded as he packed his things. “Never been more sure of anything.”

Choza couldn’t argue with that logic. “Alright then, InoShikaCho live and die together. Let’s go get your bride.”

They made their way to the rendezvous point. There they found Shikaku standing there, on guard and ready. Inoichi needed his team there. Not only to be witnesses for the wedding but also because he needed people he could trust to back him up. He was relieved to see that Shikaku had been able to sneak his fiance out of her room without anyone noticing.

Inoichi smiled brightly seeing the dazzling eyes of his future bride turn to him. Excitement and relief on her face. She ran towards him and he happily scooped her up.

“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.” She muttered against his chest. Her heart was beating wildly and she never felt more alive. The small purple bush clover that he’d given her was tucked carefully into her skirt.

Marrying someone that you just met was incredibly crazy and reckless. Still, he knew that they were meant for each other. Playing it safe was never his style anyway.

“Get ready, you’re about to do one more. Still want to marry me?” When his striking eyes met hers she knew her decision was the right one. She kissed him sure and steady. Knowing in her heart that this is what she wanted.

“More than anything.”

—

“Was grandma and grandpa mad?” Ino asked with wide eyes. She’d asked her father about how he and her mother met. She wasn’t expecting this but it was terribly romantic. Like the fairy tales, he would read to her.

“Furious. Thankfully though the man that your mama was going to marry had run off to be with the person he loved. So in the end it worked out and we were lucky enough to have you.”

Her eyes began to flutter close as she fell asleep in her father’s arms. “Think I’ll ever fall in love one day?”

“I guarantee it my little blossom. He’ll make the flowers bloom for you.”

Ino sighed wistfully thinking about her parents' love story. It was part of the reason that she kept working at the store. Convinced that one day the love of her life might come in and sweep her off her feet.

“Sai?” She looked up confused hearing the welcoming bell ring.

He greeted her warmly with what she hoped was a genuine smile on his face.

“Hello Ino, I have an odd request if you don’t mind.” She was intrigued by what it could possibly be.

“Sure, of course.”

“Would you mind if I painted in here ever so often? I’ll find a corner and keep to myself so I don’t disturb you or your customers.” She considered the request carefully. Sai was unlike anyone else in the village. He was quiet, blunt, and reserved. But handsome, talented, and when he wanted to be charming. When he called her Beautiful it always left her a flustered mess. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in him.

“I'd enjoy that actually. It would be nice to have some company. It can get boring here.”

“Thank you Beautiful. I’ll start tomorrow if you don’t mind?”

She hated the grin that crossed her face at her nickname. “I look forward to it.”

“You’re supposed to be painting.” Ino teased the pale man who just returned it with a handsome grin.

“And you’re supposed to be watching the store.” He reminded her before placing a kiss on her forehead.

Ino grinned and kissed him one last time before hopping off the counter and settled into his arms.

After daily visits and numerous conversations about flowers, life, and everything in between Sai had become a fixture of her day. Her worst days were usually when he was off on missions and she had to be there alone. She’d stare wistfully at his paintings that she’d hung around the shop just to make it feel like he was there.

Ino found herself falling in love with him while the flowers bloomed around them. It really wasn’t her fault. Yamanakas fell hard and fast.

“I really do love this store,” Sai mumbled into her hair.

“I do too. A lot of pretty magical things have happened here.”

—

Inojin sighed annoyed. His parents were still annoyingly in love and it didn’t matter that they were all at the flower shop. In public, at their place of business. If his father wanted a kiss from his wife he did just that.

“Ahem, am I the only one done with counting the inventory I was in charge of.” The couple laughed at being scolded by their son.

Ino just smiled and embarrassingly kissed her son on the cheek. “Sorry Jin, great work kid. You’re free to go.”

“Really?”

“Yes, your father and I will take your shift for the afternoon. Go hang out with your friends.” He didn’t need any more of an explanation and bolted out the door.

Ino grinned feeling Sai’s arms wrap around her. “Want to go make out in the back like we used to?” She could feel his smirk against her skin. He lightly kissed the outline of the purple bush clover tattoo hidden under her shirt.

Ino giggled as she turned the store’s sign to close. “Why do you think I sent him away?”

Perhaps the Yamanaka store wasn’t the legacy her father left her to protect. Rather it was the stories, hope, and love that flowered and blossomed in those four walls.

Flowering (Yamanaka Week 2021 Collection)

So I know Ino’s mom doesn’t come up almost at all but from what I gathered looking at her and the episode she was in it was easy to see her being in some elite family. Especially one where arranged marriages are common. And so this story was born. It’s kind of nice when there’s no canon material because you can write anything you want and no one can tell you it didn’t happen that way. Also if you look up whats the actual meaning of the Japanese bush clover it actually stands for melancholy or unrequited love. So I kind of like the spin Papa Yamanaka had for it. Anyways forgive me for being late. Have you ever had too many ideas that you kind of just sit there and not do anything? Well, that. Thanks my lovely blossoms. I love you all!

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starrysupercell · 3 years

Note

So... Now that your writing bug is back... Could we get a drabble of Belle and Byron with the sibilings theory? Go ham :)

Lmao. This was at the top of the list ahaha what do you mean

Anyway, I'm still getting a feel for Belle, but for now I'm going for a mix of Kissing Kate Barlow's montage (not the backstory- the tone. Important.) and a very, VERY light dose of Azula... mostly for the siblings thing!

......and yet again I make it a set-up to a story rather than a drabble or one shot. Like some of the other stuff I've written, I wonder if there should be oneshot followups? x.x we'll see..

•🐍• Risk & Reward •🦝•

"Byron." Piper said sternly.

"That's odd. I don't remember hearing a knock.." Byron said lightly. He sat in his chair, faced away from the door, from her, from the world. "Or saying come in."

"There's been reports of the Goldarm Gang being seen around here." Piper went on. "We need to take action. Either hire more security, or outfit the building with further measures."

She heard the rustle of a newspaper page being turned. "There's no need for concern." Came his nonchalant response.

The woman placed her fists on her hips. She would not be casually dismissed like this. "You're looking at the news yourself. You know this isn't just another band of petty criminals."

Byron closed up the papers, folding it up neatly before swiveling around and turning to face Piper. "You're right. I do know that."

He was smiling, in that particular way where he knows something she doesn't. How infuriating... but begrudgingly comforting.

She sighed silently, then smiled passively. "I know there's no use trying to find out what's going on with you. I also came to let you know I'm putting in a request for a week off."

He leaned his head in his hand, frowning. "You have no faith in me, Piper."

"I have some faith in you." She smirked, "I do have matters to attend to, actually. This isn't a luxury getaway. A couple of old friends are looking to start bounty hunting. I wish to lend my support."

"I see." He muttered, looking to the side. "Very well. We'll find a way to manage without you around here. Thank you for letting me know."

"It's no problem." She said, recognizing that tone and demeanor. "If things go well, I can be back sooner?" She offered.

Byron shook his head. "That won't be necessary... You take care of your business, Piper," He looked pointedly down at the grainy quality of the main headline's picture. "And I'll take care of mine."

[ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ]

The rumors were only just starting, so he figured that there would be some window of a time frame to prepare some things. Currently, he was recording inventory, and had plans over the money and several safes he had. (Even without this Golden Arm threat, he was a very careful man.)

He wouldn't be surprised if she had already started to scope the area around here. That no-good, sneaky turncoat, gold-lifting thief of a sister..!

Byron frowned, his jaw clenching and his temper easily flaring at the thought of her.

He sighed, smoothing out a part of his hair with his fingers. There was no use for paranoia or anger here. It'd only hinder him.

He focused about which modifications to his place. Piper was right, but he knew brute force wouldn't work. His sister was crafty, but still lazy no doubt. When you take the easy way out, you're bound to always be a weaselly, good for nothing...

He blinked. Focus.

[ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ]

That week's work of preparation went for both sides. Belle sat with her drink as she checked out the lobby of the place. She had a more casual set of clothes to avoid detection. Jacket, gloves, no trademark glasses. She would stay low.

This place was popular for sure. Reports from other members confirmed as such.

She wasn't so surprised, considering who owned the place, but she was surprised at the ambiance. Cheery piano music, tame audience and a prim and peppy bartender. If this wasn't just a cover for anything on the sidelines, he turned out to be such a sellout!

Belle's grin was shrouded by the held to her lips. Too bad her little brother never grew a backbone and left those control freaks. For him that is. This was just a pit filled with gold just begging to be tapped. And she intended to answer those calls. The sooner, the better.

She downed her drink, and stood. She left enough to cover it and then plenty. As she passed by the performing bot, she left a generous tip for him as well. He gave a grateful bow, and continued his musical jig.

The heist pulled here would more than cover these 'losses,' but anything that goes towards bots was well worth it. Belle idly tugged at her jacket sleeve as she walked out.

They would strike soon.

[ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ]

The first day of the following week, Piper returned. She hummed a tune as she walked into the bar, and headed to the back.

Things went swimmingly. Poco and Primo's friend, Amber, got her start thanks to Piper's investment. Her first job went well enough.. in the end. It was a productive week overall. The group even went out for a celebration afterwards, where, Piper recalled with a fond smile, that mysterious woman left quite an impression on her. She looked forward to seeing her again.

Her recollection of that magical night came to a screeching halt when the ruins of the place came to her attention.

"What in the..?" She muttered, looking around at the broken tables and more.

"Watch your step!" Barely advised, working on cleaning up a section of the room.

"Oh, Byron didn't heed my warning, did he?" She lifted her dress slightly to walk around the mess. "It'll do him well, if he has to learn this way." she complained as ladylike as always, "Maybe now he won't dismiss me, though I still won't think it likely. I still expect to be paid to work too."

"So that's what you really think." Byron said, leaning against a wall. He was amused, and straightened up. "Follow me. Both of you."

The robot and lady glanced at each other, but followed the owner of the place.

"We may have been hit, but I assure you that not a thing of value has been taken." He monologued as he led them down the hall. "The destruction of the place was only superficial, caused by the anger and frustration of an uncouth band of petty bandits."

Piper listened and noted they entered his office. So what kind of trick did he pull?

"Praytell, Sir. You're saying the only thing we have to worry about is the funds and time to clean up the mess?" Barley asked.

"That's right." Byron responded, a tint of pride to his voice. "I've replaced every precious gem and all the gold we've had stashed with lookalikes and Fool's. They've got nothing!"

He walked over to a section of a wall behind his desk and let a laugh escape him as he removed a frame from it. The wall behind was removable to show an empty space. "To add insult to injury, I left the most valuable item we owe in here." He reached in, pulled out the fake back cover and revealed a medium-sized box. "So it was right under their noses, and they left completely empty handed!"

"The most valuable?... Byron..." Piper frowned. "I trust you know well, but don't you think that was a risk? That precious statuette is sought after by everyone. It shouldn't be used as a trophy."

"Quite." Barley agreed. "With all my respect, Sir, you did this without even informing me." He sounded upset.

"...It's still here," Byron said weakly to his defense after a pause. He sighed. Maybe he had let more of his emotions guide his defense of their business. "I suppose.. I was letting things get personal. I'll admit it." He turned the box toward himself, and went to press the combination of numbers that would open the safebox. "Perhaps, I haven't been completely honest either. The leader of the Gold Arm Ga--" As he pressed the last button of the lock, the box lid flipped open and a light electric shock ran through his body, freezing him in place.

Piper gasped. Barley's arm reached out, roughly smacking the metal box out of Byron's hands and into the ground.

The box landed, and the only thing that fell out was a single slip of paper.

"It's missing!" Piper exclaimed.

Barley was near Byron in an instant. "Are you alright?" He asked the man leaning heavily against the wall.

The salesman didn't answer. His eyes were hyper-fixated on the single spilled content of the box. He pulled away from the wall and the service bot and leaned down to pick up the torn scrap.

'Dumbass!' was the only thing scrawled on it. Byron scrunched it up in his fist.

[ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ] [ ($) ]

"Shelly!" Belle cheered, "Pass me our winnings!"

A young woman with dark hair and an eye patch grabbed the shining figure of a cactus, adorned with priceless jewels.

She tossed over with a grin, and Belle caught it.

The leader of the Gold Arms stepped on a chair, then the table. "Look here, folks!" She called for attention. Her bandits instantly quieted their idle buzz. "We all did great last night. That slippery eel may have thrown us for a loop, but as usual, we united prevail!! Together, we've hit the jackpot!" She held the statuette up for her crew to see and cheer on. "When they cover this, the Golden Arm Gang will be unforgettable! And if we stick together, we'll always be untouchable!"

Cheers, and their celebratory times went on. Drinking, chatting, cheerful.

Belle grinned and hopped off the table at the crowd's energy. She pocketed the figurine. Life was finally good.

She sat and eyed the bag of loot they took along despite its worthlessness.

Maybe it wasn't so bad? The false gems could be used in a scam, she supposed, Some folks didn't know how to separate reals from placeholders.

She looked through it, and noted a box that had been unopened. Oh. That might have been when they were trashing the place when they discovered a lot of the valuables were actually cheap fakes.

She clicked the simple lock mechanism of the box open, just to sate her curiosity. There was a small, square sheet that was neatly tucked into the recently-opened box that held the mystery fog.

'Dunce.' It said, written in a very neat cursive.

"Ah, shit," Belle said, feeling lightheaded. She realized far too late. "That little...." she slumped forward, out cold. Her golden arm dropped the container.

A poison fog traveled from the box throughout the room, slowly knocking out the rest of the thieves in the hideout. They were fine, but all would wake up in an hour or so with pounding headaches and heavy nausea for days to come.

Just a little gift exchange amongst siblings, nothing more.

#siblings conspriracy theory #sct #Brawl Stars #Goldarm Gang #Belle #Byron #Siblings Theory #Bartenders #yes there was a Piper/Tara mention bc I'm weak #Ms. Fortune 😍#Skins #my writings #I have so much to say but I'll let it be #request but also self indulgent sibling rivalry that was set into motion bc of shitty parent(s)..... whoops is this too personal #anyway enjoy! i really like the dynamic between byron piper and barley now #expect more of them too

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sky-squido · 4 years

Text

Turn Back Time (A Linked Universe Fanfic)

Part one of the Time’s Travels series

GUYS I WROTE A FIC! This is the first fic i’ve ever put anywhere! Wooooo!

WE GOTS SOME SWEET SWEET TIME ANGST. Lotsa mentions of death and dying, though, so if that’s not your cup of tea, then don’t read this fic. Get cho’ tissues, pals, cuz this is gonna hurt. There is Certified Fluff™, but you gotta work for it. Inspired by this fic I read: https://dinfeanoriel.tumblr.com/post/189094362202/dusk-falls

The group had noticed Time growing more and more weary every time they barely escaped a harsh battle. They could see the bags under his eyes, the way he seemed to be losing weight, and the way he dutifully kept a journal that was suspiciously always tucked out of sight. When Four woke up once during Time’s watch, though, he could see it sitting by his side.

Time was out patrolling when Legend broke the group out of their evening routine. "Does anyone know what's wrong with Time?" he barked out impatiently, drawing everyone's attention. "The old man looks like he's on death's door. Don't tell me you guys haven't noticed."

A chorus of downcast faces gave him his answer.

Before they could discuss it any further, Time returned. If he noticed the heavy silence in the group, he didn't comment on it.

Legend’s comment sparked something inside of Four.

Legend's right. We have to do something!

But what, Red? Time isn't going to tell us anything he doesn't want to. Nobody can make him crack, not even Twilight.

…

Oh no. Vio, what's your idea.

Remember when we woke up in the middle of the night with that terrible headache once?

Yeah?

Who was on watch?

Time.

And what was he doing?

Realization hits the other three.

Keeping a journal.

Vio that's terrible.

It's for his own good, Green! We need to find out what's wrong with him so we can help and we all know he's not going to tell us of his own free will.

I hate to say it, but I think Vio's right.

As usual.

Shut up.

But how are we going to get ahold of the journal in the first place?

What if we ask Legend for help? It was his idea.

We can distract him, and Legend can snatch his journal.

Won't Time realize it's missing?

Not if we can keep him distracted long enough for Legend to figure out what's wrong. He doesn't need to read the whole thing

Good idea. Let's get Legend alone.

Four stared into the fire the group was sitting around. During his internal dialogue, conversation had picked back up again, though strained.

"Do you guys think we need more firewood?" Four asked, making pointed eye contact with Legend.

"I doubt it," Sky replied, "we have a little pile over there and it's getting pretty late."

"Better safe than sorry," Legend yawned, getting up and stretching, "I'll help."

Four nodded his thanks and began heading into the woods with Legend. Twilight's suspicious gaze followed them, though he made no comment.

"What's your plan?" asked Legend the second they got out of earshot.

Four gave him the rundown of everything he had come up with so far. Legend nodded his approval.

"It was a good call asking me. I've got a book that could probably help me translate his Hylian."

"How long should I buy you?"

"I'll need a decent amount of time; a few hours tops. Do you think you can do it?"

"Consider it done."

"Consider what done?"

The two conspirators whirled around, hands on hilts, until they spotted Twilight casually leaning against a tree, arms crossed.

"Twi, you can't stop us. I get that you two are close and all, but-"

"Who said I was going to stop you?"

The two blonds froze.

Twilight pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“It kills me to watch him do this to himself but no matter what I try, he won't tell me anything! He doesn't even seem to think whatever he's doing to himself is wrong! I want to help him, more than anything, and I think this is the only way"

Twilight knew firsthand how obsessed Time could get with his regrets. His desire to teach Twilight the sword had kept his shade from rest for who knows how many years. Twilight knew exactly how Time could get caught up in his head to the point to self-destruction and he didn't want to see it come to that.

"I'll help Four distract Time."

Legend nodded, surprised but grateful.

They split up to gather wood—they had to keep their alibi strong after all—and returned to camp.

"Took you long enough," sassed Warriors, but the three didn’t comment. Instead, Twilight and Four walked up to Time as Legend headed to his own bedroll to organize his inventory. Luckily for him, his spot sat on the edge of the campsite, just like Time's.

He didn’t catch what Twilight and Four said to Time, but Time got thoroughly engrossed in whatever conversation they ended up having, so Legend decided to make his move. He took his box of rings and—with a heavy sigh—tipped it sideways, letting them spill across the floor, rolling towards Time's bedroll and gear.

Warriors glanced over at the sound.

"You good over there, Legend? You need help organizing your jewelry?" Warriors teased, eyeing the rings scattered across the ground.

"My jewelry could kill you so you all better keep your distance while I clean this up," he bit back. To his satisfaction, the group accepted his explanation, not wanting to get cursed by any of Legend's... exotic magic.

It was under this guise that Legend rifled through Time's things, pulling out a small leather journal from between some masks, pocketing it, and picking up the rest of his rings.

He shuffled back to his bedroll, put his box of rings back, and slid the Book of Mudora out of its pocket in his bag. As some of the first stars winked into the sky, Legend began deciphering.

There was no title or date or any sort of preamble. The first entry was rushed and short, only a few sentences. It looked more like Time had jotted down a quick piece of info he wanted to remember for later rather than any sort of journal.

The first word he deciphered was his own name.

He hurriedly deciphered the rest, his blood growing colder with every word.

"Legend: I'm sorry. I'm so f***ing sorry. Tell Hyrule I love him. Tell Warriors I don't actually hate him. Tell—"

Eager to read what followed, he continued deciphering, but to his horror the next word was another name and a new entry.

“Warriors:”

He stopped translating. These were the dying words of his friends, his brothers. The first passage sounded like the very thing he'd cough out with his final breath, something so important and personal that it couldn’t be said until there was no chance of being able to say anything ever again. He looked over at the campfire, at his laughing brothers, and silently closed the Book of Mudora. Whatever needed saying, they’d tell him themselves. These were private, heartfelt words.

He wondered how Time acquired said private, heartfelt words.

He also wondered how many more pages there were and began skimming.

As Legend flipped through the short, clipped sentences, he saw that most of them ended with a sharp, dashed line. Some had small numbers at the bottom, a x2 or x3 and once, a x7.

There were too many. Far too many.

He saw his own name multiple times and wondered how that was even possible, how one person could die multiple times. He thought of his uncle, who had died before his eyes and, though Legend had brought him back, would probably die again eventually.

If Legend had had to guess, he’d say Time had copied down at least 100 dying statements. That was over 11 times for each of them.

Again he wondered how Time had collected so many dying words—different dying words—of people who were, at the moment, still alive.

He wondered why Time had bothered to write them down at all.

But one small question, one he'd had for a while but dismissed, bubbled to the surface.

Why is Time named Time?

A small pebble hitting him in the head snapped him out of his thoughts. His head whipped over to its source and he saw Four looking at him urgently, Twilight stalling as Time began to stand up. Legend got the message and hurriedly tucked the book back where he found it, clutching the paper containing his translations in his curled fist.

Four volunteered for the first watch. Twilight took second. Legend grabbed third.

They all knew they wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

When Four went to wake up Twilight at the end of his watch, he shook Legend awake as well. A furtive glance toward Time told them that the Old Man was slumbering soundly, or at least appeared to be. Not taking any chances, they moved to the opposite corner of the campsite, talking in hushed voices.

"What did you find?" Four asked Legend urgently, clearly restless after spending his watch in suspense.

Legend sighed.

"It's not good."

Twilight's eyes narrowed and Four's face became a mask of focus, his eyes glinting purple in the firelight.

"His book contains a lot of entries, short little snippets, never longer than a few sentences. There's gotta be about a hundred of them. They all go along these lines." He read his own passage, the only one he had had the heart to fully decipher, and Four and Twilight's gazes shifted from focus to shock and fear.

"The journal is filled with our dying words. Dozens of them. This one... it's.... it wouldn't be inaccurate," he manages to force out.

"I've gone back in time to prevent someone from dying before. I know it's possible. But that involved the Triforce and… I've only ever done it the one time. But I have one question for you two:" the two listened at rapt attention, understanding and horror filtering into their gazes as he asked his burning question: "Why is Time named Time?"

A cacophony of voices burst through Four's head, causing him to curl in on himself and pull on his hair. Twilight absently put his hand on Four's head, petting him in a hollow pantomime of comfort as he stared brokenly into the fire.

"We've all died," Twilight started. "Dozens of times. All of us, dead. And he watched as every single one of us breathed out our final words and then turned back the clock to save us."

"I always thought he had an uncanny ability to swoop in and save someone in the nick of time," remarked Four, collecting himself.

"But what do we do with this information?" asked Twilight, the tears in his eyes sparkling in the firelight.

"We can't very well ask him to stop, can we? He's saved our lives countless times and we didn't even know it!" asked Four, the red flames of the fire dancing in his eyes.

"He should have told us," Four bit out abruptly, seemingly changing his mind. He froze in shock for a moment before looking up and letting his eyes reflect the blue of the night sky. "He chose to shut himself up for months, watching us die time and time again. He's an idiot is what he is. He could have told us so we could help him when he rewound time. He could have told us how we died so we wouldn't make those same mistakes again! He could have told us so we could comfort him after he watched us die in his arms!"

Twilight, with his arm now around Four's shoulders, beckoned for Legend to sit next to him. He complied, and Twilight pulled him close, soaking in the warmth of two of his very alive, very breathing, brothers. The three boys sat under the stars, tears sparkling in their eyes and running down their faces.

"We have to confront him" stated Legend, leaning into Twilight's side.

"Do we tell everyone else?" Four asked, eyes drooping from exhaustion after already taking his watch and then having to wrestle to keep himself in line in light of the new information.

"We should start by talking to Time," Twilight growled, eyes steely, "I don't want the others finding out like this."

He felt Four nod sleepily into his side and Legend hum his agreement. Twi thought about how he had the chance to comfort and be comforted by his brothers in the light of this news but Time had never had such luxury, even after doing so much more for so much longer.

---------

Wild rose with the sun as he usually did, glancing around the campsite to orient himself. The whole camp was fast asleep, Wind sprawled over Warriors and burritoed in his scarf. Sky snored lazily, spread-eagle on the ground next to his bedroll. Hyrule slept curled up, the closest one to Legend’s empty sleeping bag. Time laid completely still and silent in his bedroll save for the slow rise and fall of his chest. Twilight, Four, and the aforementioned Legend's sleeping bags were all empty and as Wild moved towards the fire, he saw why. Twilight sat on the ground, his back against a log, staring into the dying embers of the fire. Four was curled up against his left side, snoring lightly, while Legend curled into his right. Wild smiled deviously and pulled out his slate, the camera rune already selected, but upon being leveled by the broken, tired, grief-stricken eyes of Twilight, the smile fell off his face and he put the slate away.

He began preparing breakfast somewhat awkwardly before asking quietly: "you wanna talk about it?"

Twilight didn't move, staring into the embers some more. Wild didn't think he was going to get an answer out of him until he heard a stern "if you are ever hurting, no matter how big or how small, tell me. Please."

He looked over to see Twilight looking at him with an urgent, pleading gaze.

"This is about Time, isn't it," Wild replied.

Twilight's shoulders rose, startled.

"I'm not an idiot,” Wild started defensively, “I saw the looks you three were giving each other after Legend's outburst and then you all went off into the woods together and then took watches and now I find you out here snuggling with Legend of all people? You guys figured it out, didn't you. It’s not good, is it." It wasn't a question.

Twilight sighed, defeated. "No, it's not good, cub."

Wild glanced up from his cooking. "What is it?"

Twilight shook his head.

"You hypocrite!" he started, before getting shushed by Twilight. He continued in a whisper, "you tell me I have to tell you everything that's bothering me and not five minutes later you withhold what's eating you from me! I'll tell you what's bothering me: this!"

Twilight opened his mouth to respond—

"Give up, he's got you cornered."

Twilight looked down to see Four staring up at him. He sat up, stretching, before continuing. "We might as well tell him."

At all of the noise and Twilight's shifting, Legend began to stir, moaning and blinking slowly before sitting up with a start. He looked around, disoriented, until he realized he had fallen asleep on Twilight. When he spotted Wild barely holding back a snicker, his face turned the same shade as his pink bangs.

"You should have woken me up," Legend said in a huff, pulling at his tunic, "I said I was taking the last watch."

Twilight didn't tease him like Legend had thought he would, instead saying, "you needed the sleep more. Besides, I wasn't going to get any, anyway."

"Whyever would that be?" asked Wild, trying to inject himself back into the conversation.

"We read Time's journal," started Legend, waving away Twilight's protests with a hand, "and found out that… we think… well… we haven't been as successful as we thought we were. On this adventure, I mean."

At Wild's cocked head, he continued.

"We have reason to believe that we've died, all of us, numerous times, and Time's somehow been turning back the clock to save us before that happens."

Wild listened intently, running his right hand up and down his left arm as he waited for the water to boil. Understanding slowly crept across his face as he looked up at the trio.

"He must have watched us, all of us... so many times. And he never said anything. Never asked for comfort or recognition..."

Four cut in "or even telling us that we had died and warning us how to avoid it later."

Wild thought for a moment before adding "well, he usually does give out pretty cryptic advice after battles," he gasped, "you don't think—"

"I do think," replied Legend, nodding solemnly. This was a point he hadn't previously considered, but it fit his theory.

Wild continued making breakfast in relative silence as the sun continued to rise. Warriors seemed to wake up before the Wind Burrito™ snuggled him back into dreamland. Time sat up, rubbing his eye, and began to start his morning routine.

"Hey old man!" Four stage-whispered, to the horror of his three companions.

Time looked over at them curiously.

Four waved him over and he obliged, standing slowly before picking his way through camp. He cocked an eyebrow at Four, a carefully blank expression on his face, but now that Four knew what Time had been going through, he could see the grief in Time's eye and could imagine that Time must have been seeing his broken, twisted corpse whenever he looked at him.

The smallest hero stood before the tallest before leaning into his chest and wrapping his arms around him. "Thank you for keeping us safe," Four said into Time's tunic.

Time looked around in confusion before Twilight barreled into him, doing the same.

"We're safe. We're safe thanks to you," Twilight said, wrapping his arms around his mentor from the side. Wild didn't hesitate to follow Twilight's lead before squeezing himself next to his own mentor. Legend watched as tears began to fill Time's eyes and he looked down at who the Old Man saw to be his own children.

"But Pops," Legend drawled, eyes narrowed and a hand on his hip, "f***ing talk to us about it. That's what we're for, right?"

He was met with Wild reaching out and grabbing his tunic, pulling him into the group hug. Tears were streaming down the left side of Time's face and he melted into the arms of his boys, relishing their beating hearts and warm bodies.

They broke the hug after a few moments, Time furiously wiping his eye and the others sniffling slightly and wiping their own. Time tried to collect himself, gravity sinking into his voice as he said: "so you know, then."

Twilight opened his mouth to reply but Legend jumped in first. "No thanks to you! We watched you slowly deteriorate for weeks, Old Man! We thought you were gonna drop dead and you didn't f***ing say anything! The only reason we know is—" Legend cut himself off, realizing he was getting carried away and not wanting to divulge too much.

"The only reason you know is...?" Time questioned, voice growing stern. Legend squirmed for a moment before Twilight stepped in, finally asking: "how many times?"

"You'll have to be more specific, Pup"

"How many times have you rewound time to save us?"

"As many as I needed to."

"That's not a number," growled Twilight, leveling a glare icy enough to rival Time's own.

Time sighed. "Eighty-seven."

Legend's brow furrowed in confusion. There were a lot more than 87 entries in Time’s book. Time noticed. "Sometimes I had to do multiple people a run," he explained. Legend looked up in shock. Had time figured out that Legend had read his journal? Legend wasn't surprised; Time was one of their sharpest members, after all.

"A run?" started Twilight, "a run? You've got a cute little name for it and everything, don’t you. Eighty-seven times, huh? How many runs were you going to do before telling us?"

"Twi," said Four evenly, putting his hand on the teen's arm. He looked at him pleadingly, silently asking him to back down.

Twi sighed, deflating. Time could see his anger for what it really was: worry, fear, love.

Legend figured that Time was onto him anyway, so he decided to come clean about the journal.

"Yeah, but Time," Legend began, almost pleadingly, "why did you have to keep that Hylia-forsaken journal? So you could keep a lovely chronicle of the pain of watching us die over and over again? Why—" he bit back something resembling a sob— "did you write down all of our last words?" Legend asked, searching Time's face.

"In case something happened and we couldn't get your real last ones. In case I couldn't fix it. Because... I thought they deserved to be recorded. I know firsthand that traveling through time causes new timelines to be born. That that Legend is dead in a world where he always will be. Just because I left that world does not make it any less real or that Legend any less dead."

Wild's eyes widened in realization. "You didn't just fix it right away, did you?" He asked. "You buried us, didn't you."

"Every time..." Four trailed off, staring into the distance.

The group descended upon Time again, wrapping him in another, fiercer, bear hug. They got interrupted by Wild's pot boiling over and they quickly untangled while he went to salvage their breakfast. It was good timing, though, as the rest of the camp was beginning to stir, Warriors finally breaking free of the snuggle clutches of the Wind Burrito™ and Hyrule blearily rubbing his eyes. Wind began to unroll himself from the burrito, and Sky began to stir.

Sky, Wind, Warriors, and Hyrule eventually joined the others for breakfast. They all sat around the fire before Wind piped up. "What happened?" he asked Wild. Sentences trailed off as everyone waited for Wild's response. "Something happened?" he asked, trying his best to act nonchalant, but the others had caught on. "Breakfast doesn't taste the same and you've all been awfully quiet," Wind elaborated. Hyrule eyed Legend. He did seem rather off. Warriors' searching eyes caught Twilight's, looking for an explanation, but Twilight's only response was to flick his eyes up to Time. Sky turned towards Time and smiled slightly. "You look better," he remarked simply, startling everyone. "You don't look quite so broken anymore." The group stared in shock at that. He turned to the group. "I won't press," Sky shrugged as an explanation. "He's doing better. I don't see how prying would help."

"Just because you aren't aware of the actions someone took to cause a given outcome, that doesn't mean the outcome would have occurred without their aid," Four cryptically contributed.

The Links in the know shot surprised looks at Four, who glanced softly at Time.

"Would someone please explain what's going on," pleaded Warriors. Time sighed, setting down his empty bowl. He began explaining, but instead of giving them the facts that the other Links had puzzled out, he told it like a story. He told them the story of how Legend, after getting stabbed from behind by a lizalfos, had died in his arms. He told the Links how he had quickly committed his last words to memory, scribbling them down in his journal. He told the Links how the weight of his ocarina hung on his belt, how memories of rewinding time to save lives ran through his head, how he knew that other timelines branched off every time he rewound. He told them how they buried Legend and he read his last words out of his journal as the remaining eight wept. He told them how he had explained to the other Links that there was a way to get Legend back, but that they would never see that other world. He told them how he hugged them all goodbye before playing the Song of Time and materializing right behind Legend, decapitating the lizalfos before it could get to the red-clad hero. The group stared in awe and shock at Time, but also at Legend. Hyrule leaned farther into Legend's side, sniffling. Legend wrapped his arm around the brunet's shoulders.

Time trailed off after he finished his story, allowing the others to figure out for themselves that he had done that whole process 87 times. That there were 87 timelines out there where they were heartbroken, destroyed, dead, and Time had vanished, promising a better future for a different group of Links. "I could only pray that Hylia erased those timelines when I prevented their existence, but I could never be sure. I had to make sure each timeline was the best it could be before I left it."

At that, something dawned on Sky and he rushed over to where he had the Master Sword sheathed by his bedroll. He drew it and wrapped his hands around the hilt, staring at the blade intently and mumbling under his breath. The group watched in confusion, eventually collectively realizing that Sky was asking Fi if she knew what had happened to the other timelines. Sky paused for a moment as though listening before slumping down in relief.

"She says that when you prevent a future, the alternate timeline ceases to exist as if it had never happened." Sky smiles warmly, "the only thing that causes a timeline to continue, even if it has been prevented in another world, is the interference of the Triforce. Legend's not dead. Nobody is. They're all right here."

Time's eye widened in shock. He broke down in that moment, hundreds of lives lost no longer weighing down on him. Wind dove into his arms, the other Links following suit in the third and teariest group hug of the day.

"If only someone could have told you this 86 'runs' ago" muttered Legend under his breath before getting smacked over the head by Hyrule.

---------

After that morning, they would have liked to be able to say that everything went back to normal, but that would have been a lie.

A few days later, they were ambushed in the middle of the night. Hyrule had been on watch, and despite him waking everyone up, they couldn't get prepared in time to defend themselves very well. Twilight had woken with a start to Hyrule's cries, reaching for his sword before getting yanked back by a fully armored Time just in time to watch a spear from one of Sky's moblins crash down where he would have been standing. Twilight stared at Time in shock, who was still clutching his ocarina in his left hand. Twilight froze at the sight before his mentor shook him. "There's no time. Guard Wild's back."

Twilight didn't need to be told twice. Time finished off the moblin and Twilight grabbed his sword, rushing to protect Wild. The battle ended shortly thereafter. It had been a quick, previously deadly, calculated strike. Clearly, their enemy had a very strong grasp on tactics. As the group cleared out their camp, Twilight whispered something in Wild's ear. The younger gasped in shock and the two rushed to where Time was packing up his bedroll and tackled him in a hug.

"Thank you" whispered Twilight into Time's tunic. Wild gingerly picked up Time's hand and placed it over his beating heart like he'd had to do a few times with Flora after the Calamity.

"I'm alive. I'm safe. It's okay."

Needless to say, the group got rather accustomed to the sight of Time in tears, but they also hugged him far more as well. After the battle, Wind spotted Time writing in his journal. Had he been able to read any of it, he’d know that it had said:

Twilight: It’s going to be okay. I love you.

Wild: This isn’t goodbye and you know it. Just play that ocarina of yours and we’ll be right as rain.

“Hey, Time.” Time looked up. Wind continued, “because you know now that the other timelines stopped existing, you don’t have to write those down anymore.” Time started as if he were about to say something before Wind suddenly got an idea. “What if we all wrote down our words so you don’t have to! We could all write out everything we might want to say so you don’t have to copy down those short little sentences anymore.”

“Some people did that in the army,” Warriors butted into the conversation. “It was common practice to write that kind of stuff down for your next of kin before heading out. It’ll make your life a heck of a lot easier, Old Man. Besides,” he added with a wry grin, “I’m not gonna spill out my guts if I know I’m just coming back anyway.”

Time relented. He knew from experience that they never had time to get out everything they wanted to say in those final moments. He nodded his approval and that evening, the whole group solemnly wrote out everything they didn’t want to leave unsaid.

---------

Once, while the group had been trekking through the Snowpeak of Twilight's world, Wild pulled out his shield and prepared to surf down a particularly steep and icy hill.

"Cub." Twilight scolded, "Don't. You'll get yourself killed."

"It's never happened before!" replied Wild cheerily before they all froze, realizing what he'd just said. They turned to Time.

Time shook his head gratefully, "not as of yet. But I still wouldn't—"

That was all the encouragement Wild needed before readying his shield again. Right as he was about to jump, he felt a hand snare the back of his tunic, stopping him. He turned and was met with the face of Time, a new, haunted look in his eyes, and an ocarina clutched in his left hand.

Wild was noticeably less reckless after that, much to the relief of everyone, especially Twilight.

That night, Four sidled up to Time and asked quietly, "how long did we look before giving up?"

Time sighed, "using the ocarina takes a toll on me. I try not to use it unless it's absolutely necessary."

"How long."

"A few days."

At that, something in Four's eyes flashed red and he found Wild, dragged him by the tunic and shoved him into Time's arms. "Give this man a hug," was all he said before heading back to rejoin the others around the fire. Wild didn't need to be told twice.

Time began to look healthier and healthier, no longer on the verge of death. He had to travel back less and less frequently because of his group's newfound self-awareness and he never had to travel back more than once for the same event. He had also been spending less time in each alternate future, only ever sticking around long enough to ensure that there was no other option before they smiled and told Time they’d see him later.

"Moral of the story," chirped Legend happily one day over dinner, "always read your friends' journals without their permission."

Hyrule thwacked him over the head with his spoon.

---------

Bonus:

“There’s no way he survived that fall, Twilight.”

“He has to have. He wouldn’t let something this stupid kill him.”

“Yeah, actually, he kind of would.”

Hyrule hit Legend in the back of the head.

“Are you gonna rewind?” Four asked Time.

He sighed. “There’s no way he’s lasted this long with those injuries. We very well might starve out here anyway considering Wild has all the food. We’ve tried everything. Even Wind’s pendant isn’t helping.”

“Besides,” Sky points out, putting his hand on Twilight’s shoulder, “Wild won’t have to go through all that pain if we rewind.”

“But,” Time adds meaningfully, “let’s not resort to altering the flow of time for the sake of convenience. It’s not exactly easy for me to pull off. Sometimes I miss.”

The group nods solemnly.

“So we’re going back, then?”

“I think we’ll have to.”

Time grabs his ocarina before Legend stops him.

“So when you rewind time, none of us will remember this, right?”

“We’ll walk along the cliff, Wild will ask if the stunt will kill him, I’ll tell him yes, and we’ll keep walking. None of this will happen.”

“Sweet,” says Legend, a mischievous glint in his eye. He walks over to Warriors. “Hey Warriors.”

“Yeah?”

“You suck at life.” Legend punches him in the face. “Turn it back, now!”

Time does not, in fact, turn it back. Instead he watches in amusement as Warriors punches Legend in the face. Then, he starts playing the ocarina.

“I’ll punch you in the face!” yells Legend over the music, but Time’s smirk reminds Legend that he won’t remember to.

Hyrule smacks Legend over the head again for kicks before they finally cease to be.

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