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arewelonely · 3 years

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Eugenia, The Fat Lady.

—

They were idiots when they arrived, and they were idiots when they left. Seven years of schooling never changed this, but it amused her to watch their progressions all the same. Their bickerings, their romances, their stressors. Sweaty kids stumbling in after Quidditch, nervous energy tittering off of them when they left in the mornings before N.E.W.T.s. The ones who could barely muster up the energy to say the password, the ones with glassy eyes and a lack of facial expressions. Eugenia saw them all, and a few of them saw her back.

She had been named Eugenia by her painter. But the man was a prat, and the dark cloth forbade her from seeing the world until she was nailed into the Gryffindor door, so he deserved none of the credit. Instead, her friends raised her–Eugenia and Anne scampered throughout the portraits, seeing how far they could jump (Anne was too afraid of tripping, so Eugenia always won, sometimes skipping past three paintings before turning around to wave at her friend). At nighttimes, they sang throughout the hallways, giggling as their voices echoed and seeing how loud they could get before another painting called out for silence or a professor was summoned to bid these rambunctious kids goodnight.

The two obviously did this less during school times. They were too tired: Anne from directing the new students around the castle from her perch at the top of the Grand Staircase, and Eugenia from making sure that only the correct students were allowed in her common room.

Thank Merlin, she was stationed outside of Gryffindor. She had heard stories about the other houses: the portrait outside of Ravenclaw’s common room had to come up with a riddle each time a student entered, and the Hufflepuff portrait was far too lenient on who they allowed in! The Slytherin students sounded far less kind than Eugenia’s Gryffindors, but that also could have been a rumor. The students were difficult to understand–far too many streams of gossip and incredibly few facts. They sometimes chatted right in front of her for oh so long before giving the password… she rolled her eyes and huffed as loudly as she could each time. She had things to do, songs to practice, didn’t want her mouth full of grapes and cheese when it finally was time for her to ask for the password. She was not unreasonable, Eugenia, but the students were just little pricks. Joyful little pricks.

By her twenties, she had mastered getting back from just about any point in the castle to her station in under ten minutes. This was no small feat, and her chest swelled proudly each time she beat a student back to their common room.

“Password?” she’d sniff, chin held high.

And they’d give it to her, unaware she had been exploring some uninhabited hallway just a few minutes before. She and Anne were still friends, and they still frolicked around the castle whenever they got a chance.

Anne kissed her first, very briefly right before the end of class rush, and Eugenia felt the blush blossom across her cheeks before she was left alone in her hallway, hearing the students’ chatter coming closer, feeling her lips tingle from her friend’s touch. They went farther in the months following, and they were merry and laughed at each other as their limbs tangled, Eugenia’s head dipping backwards to let her giggles climb to the sky.

She had never wanted a romance; didn’t feel the need and couldn’t find the want in her chest, but this was fun and she had always loved Anne’s company and Anne was fine with the lack of romance–she had another lover a few floors up, anyway.

In the days when Anne and her other friends were all occupied, or when the rush of students in and out never seemed to end, the creatures around her kept Eugenia company. They enjoyed grazing from painting to painting, and Eugenia was blessed with ponds and blue skies, so she got to experience the most wonderful array of animals. Her favorite were the hippos, but the birds and butterflies were lovely as well. Many of them liked her, but a few just did not care–a bird even pooped on her head once, and Eugenia barely let out a screech before she was jumping up and waving them out of her frame. It took them many months of repentance before she allowed any animals back in her scene.

“Are…?”

Eugenia stared down at the girl–well, a woman, really. It had been, what, four years since this one had first entered the castle? And what did she want now? “Yes? Would you like to give me the password? I don’t have all day, you know.” And she didn’t, she had plans later: a picnic with a new friend… if she could get away.

The girl fumbled with her hands. She was usually much more composed, really. Betty, her name was. Gryffindor Captain. Usually held her shoulders high, said the password quickly, let Eugenia get back to her life.

“Yes, sorry,” Betty murmured. “I just, I saw you and another woman here earlier, and I was wondering… are you two, er, a couple?”

Eugenia snorted. “No, we are not.” She stared down at Betty’s face as it fell, as fear darted over quickly. “We are friends, Anne and I. We live like the Greeks,” she gestured with her grapes. “Don’t have time for that coupling nonsense.”

Betty blinked quickly. “Ah, so you…”

Eugenia cleared her throat. Alright, she could move this conversation along. She was supposed to picnic at sunset, and at this rate she wouldn’t get there until the moon had risen fully. She crossed her arms and shifted on her seat. “It’s Euphraïlde for you, isn’t it? The Lestrange girl?”

Betty’s head jerked up, her curls bouncing, her eyes wide. “I–uh…”

“Personally, I thought it was an odd choice,” Eugenia informed her. “A Slytherin and a Gryffindor? Really?”

“Oh, no,” Betty shook her head rapidly, “she’s so lovely, don’t think like that! She’s kind, and funny, and she just…”

Eugenia raised her eyebrows when Betty’s words ended and a pretty smile took over her face. “Did you have a password for me?”

“Do you have a name?” Betty blurted.

Eugenia sniffed. “I do.”

“May I know it? I’ve been here for a while, I was realizing I just don’t really know much about you.”

The hippos behind her gave a grunt and she held in a groan. “My name is Eugenia.”

“Eugenia,” Betty smiled again. “My name is Betty.”

“Yes, I know, you’ve been here for four years. Now, do you have a password or not? I have a picnic to get to.”

Anne teased her about it afterwards–“no longer anonymous, are you?”–“other students have known my name, you can shut up now”–but Eugenia couldn’t deny that this was different. Betty brought her girlfriend by a few weeks later, and even though Eugenia truly wished to keep the Gryffindor space closed (she had enough students bothering her already), she was forced to let Euphraïlde in after she saw how timid the girl was, how she bounced back and forth, and how Betty’s arm never left her back.

Eugenia placed her head in her hands when the door swung shut behind the two. She would hate it, this idea that had just popped into her head. Anne would be far too happy about it. But it was necessary.

In her thirties, Eugenia made sure to invite all her lovers to her portrait at some point or another. She enjoyed the company, she did, and she enjoyed the looks on her students’ faces when they saw her with a new suitor, gender be damned. Some of the students were idiots, but they always had been, so this was not too surprising. Some of the students were like Betty, and smiled at Eugenia softly, nodding at the people in her frame before heading off to class. Some of the students asked her name, and she begrudgingly gave it each time, if only for equity of information–Eugenia knew far too much about all of these dumb students, it was only fair they know a piece of her as well. Unequal relationship if not.

“So you do have a relationship with them?” Anne asked, and Eugenia scoffed, pushing her shoulder until she fell backwards into the flowers. Anne grinned up at her, and Eugenia hid a smile.

She supposed the nickname some students adopted for her only made sense; not everyone asked her name, and everyone needed something to call her. While she might have gone with ‘Lady Who Guards the Gryffindors’, Eugenia understood this was too long for everyday conversation. And so, The Fat Lady she became.

She had started meeting with Brian a few years ago. He was a decent enough man when he was Headmaster, and his painting was quite a delight. He enjoyed making the climb from the Entrance Hall to Eugenia’s nook, and always kissed her cheek before departing at the end of their time together.

“Are you free next weekend, Brian?” Eugenia would ask.

“Brian The Third,” he’d toss over his shoulder, jumping over a rock or across a stream.

She’d smother her smile. “Are you free?”

“Depends on whether you call me by the proper name, Eugenia dear.”

And she never would, and he’d always return.

He enjoyed lavishing her with food–“you’re my queen, darling, and I want to treat you well in every aspect”–and he blessed her with smooches every chance he got. He was particularly fond of her hair free, and sometimes she’d sneak down to his portrait in the dead of night, locks curled around her shoulders, to kiss him awake.

“It is okay with you,” she confirmed, “that we aren’t… together?”

Brian raised his eyebrows and tossed a grape in her mouth. “We are together right now. We were together last night.”

“But we–”

“And you’ll return to your Gryffindors, and I’ll come visit you. If you’d like.”

Eugenia nodded. “Yes, I’d like that. But I don’t…” she pressed a hand to her chest, pushing on her sternum, wrapping a hand around her waist.

“I like you as a person,” Brian told her. “I like spending time with you. I like when you kiss me. I like to kiss you.”

“I like to kiss you too.”

Brian tossed another grape, and it bounced off of her breast. She rolled her eyes at him when he grinned. His smile faded, though, and his eyes were sincere. “Then?”

“Then nothing,” Eugenia told him. “Just checking.”

Brian hit the other breast with a grape and Eugenia cackled, then pelted him with a few in retaliation.

By her forties, Eugenia was fairly confident in her singing. It called her lovers to her, it repelled students, and honestly, what more could she ask for in a talent? She enjoyed that this was part of her personality to students–just being The Fat Lady was only moderately degrading, and she liked that they’d groan when they heard her, coming up the hallway. Sometimes she’d serenade them, making the loud ones blush, making the shy ones grin, telling stories of her youth–how had it been so many years already? Headmasters had come and gone, past students’ children were entering the halls… Eugenia shook her head and sang louder.

The day she discovered she could crack a glass with her voice was an outstanding one. She yipped with glee and the dog asleep on the lawn next to her groaned at being awakened.

“No, you don’t understand,” she chortled, “my voice! Is so stronggggg!” She leaped into the air and sang until Anne came to congratulate her.

Eugenia knew her fifties would be the prime of her life–and this was only partially because she would be fifty until the end of time. Her youth had happened, and honestly, she was still in it, but also, what had to change? She was as plump as could be, had friends and lovers all around the castle, and fairly decent working relationships with the professors and students, after only a few years of strife in regards to the volume of her singing. The students were still idiots, but there was the occasional one every now and again who was halfway decent, and many each year with whom she had talking relationships–“no, Anne, like a professional talking relationship, like I have with the professors–no, those aren’t real relationships, no, go back to your portrait now, shoo.”

There were a few students for whom Eugenia refused to bend the rules. Poppy Pomfrey was allowed to visit her girlfriend Minerva, and Rubeus was allowed to reenter when his friends brought him by. Eugenia was all too happy to play innocent when Albus would ask her if the boy had been seen in the castle–he was a prick as a student, a prick as Headmaster.

Tom Riddle, however, was not allowed to enter. Eugenia hated the way he watched the others, and she didn’t like his smooth mannerisms–namely, the way he informed her there was someone he had to meet inside, rather than respectfully asking for entry. She never allowed a non-Gryffindor to enter alone, and the flare of his nostrils when she told him no was enough to ensure he was never allowed to enter at all.

She wasn’t surprised when she later found out Tom’s goals. She had seen the students grow more fearful over the years. She saw the Muggleborn students watch over their shoulders a bit more. She made sure to sing louder when they were in the hallway, so they knew they were never alone. She let no Slytherins into the Gryffindor common room for several years.

And then Sirius Black stood in front of her one day. And he had the correct password. And as much as Eugenia tried to sniff her way to superiority, this Slytherin-born child would not let her.

“Oi, narrow-minded hag, let me the fuck into my common room!” He stomped his foot, the petulant kid he was. “I have the password, you imbecile, I literally told it to you, what more do you want?”

Eugenia crossed her arms. “You’re telling me you’re a Gryffindor.”

“I literally came in here last night.” He gestured to her wall, eyes wide. “I literally slept in there. I’m a Gryffindor.”

“But your fa–”

“Don’t you even dare,” the boy marched forward. His eyes were dark and his hair long. He stopped right in front of Eugenia’s face. She didn’t allow herself to back away. “I am a Gryffindor.”

She held his gaze. He was strong. His jaw was set. And Eugenia let him in, closing behind him with a smirk as he swore strongly in passing.

The boy did not like her, calling her “piss off” and “go to hell” (to which she responded that this portrait was, in fact, her home, and she would be here indefinitely)–and Eugenia didn’t like him, except for the fact that ‘hell’ was a Muggle concept and even as he swore at her she saw the corner of his mouth lift. She saw him talking with the Muggleborns in their year. She snuck around the castle to see what he got up to in his downtime, and saw him causing mischief absolutely everywhere. Anne tried to convince her that she liked him, and, as per usual, Eugenia told her off.

She most certainly did not like that Potter boy–equally as cheery as his father before him, far too loud and incredibly obnoxious, waking her up in the middle of the night, entirely invisible, to let him in and out of the common room. Hogwarts at night was a serene place, not one for immature children to roam around. But her job was her job, and she could not deny a Gryffindor entry.

“You know,” Anne told her one day, resting her chin on Eugenia’s shoulder, “we were exactly like them.”

“No, we were not.”

“Yes, we were. Two young kids, flirting and running around–”

“Flirting?”

“Have you seen Sirius with Remus?”

Eugenia frowned.

“Watch them, I’m telling you.”

And Eugenia watched them, and she made sure to invite Anne around, and Circe, a new friend from a few floors up. She kissed Circe square on the mouth as Remus walked up one day, bade her farewell, and waited while Remus gathered himself before sputtering out the password. Eugenia was pissed when, a few years later, he and Sirius woke her up as they snuck back in late at night. Yet, she couldn’t deny that her chest warmed when she shut the door behind them, hearing their soft murmurs from inside.

“I have a question for you,” Eugenia asked Sirius one day.

He pushed his hands into his pockets (jeans, of course–why wear something wizard when Muggle would do?) and smirked. “I was going to give you the password, calm down.”

“No, not that,” Eugenia shook her head. “You’re not a Slytherin.”

Sirius crossed his arms and stepped backwards. “I thought we discussed this years ago.”

“Calm down, boy, we did. You’re not a Slytherin, but your family is. Don’t you have a brother here?”

Sirius lifted his chin. “Depends who’s asking.”

Eugenia snorted. “I am.”

“What’s your name?”

Eugenia sighed. “Eugenia.”

“Well, Genie–”

“Don’t call me Genie.”

“–there is another Black child in this building. He lives down in the dungeons, with the brainwashing brats.”

Eugenia inhaled. Offering favors was always difficult. And unenjoyable. But she remembered Betty, and knew it must be done. “You could bring him here, if you wanted. I do occasionally allow Gryffindors to let members of other houses in.”

Sirius’s face froze. “You… yeah?”

“To visit,” she quickly clarified. “This could not be a habitual act. Strictly occasional.”

“No, yeah, of course…”

“Hm,” Eugenia pretended to think. “Perhaps in return, you and your friends could wake me up less in the middle of the night, because it truly is quite rude.” She leaned back and popped a grape into her mouth. “Just something to think about.”

Sirius’ mouth twitched.

She hummed. “I’ve seen that Severus lad around though, and I don’t think he is welcome.”

Sirius laughed. “No, Snivellus is not.”

“I don’t like the way he talks to Lily,” Eugenia informed him.

Sirius nodded. “We don’t either.”

Sirius had a new nickname to add to his repertoire after that, and although Eugenia corrected him brashly every time he asked what wish she would grant, the name ‘Genie’ stuck. She noticed that Peter liked this new name, in particular–he had always winced when calling her ‘The Fat Lady’ in the past, and she felt he made more eye contact with her in using this new name. He was the only one she wouldn’t correct. James said it too gleefully, Remus with too much unfounded sass, and Sirius was just an asshole.

The asshole grew up, though. He mentioned offhandedly that Eugenia, despite all her warts–“hush child, I’m voluptuous and incredible”–was better behaved than the portraits that lived back at the Black house.

Brian was here for this, and he raised his eyebrows at Eugenia after Sirius had left. “You’re better than the portraits at his home?”

Eugenia did not let him come back to her portrait for a few weeks, purely out of principle. But she made sure that her insults were much less harsh after that. The boy was a Gryffindor, after all. He should feel safe at home.

She and Anne talked often about how odd it was that their students never really returned. Yes, some did, as professors, but they didn’t really. Minerva nodded at Eugenia kindly when entering the common room, but there was a bit of embarrassment as well–Eugenia had known her when she was bumbling around with the school nurse. Eugenia was a third party in what was now a friendly professional relationship.

Eugenia wanted to mention, somehow, that she knew much about sexual relationships coexisting with friendships, and friendships taking priority, and that, honestly, Minerva didn’t need to worry so much–Eugenia had been mentioning this to her for years, hadn’t she?–but there was never really a time, and Minerva was an adult now. Minerva was an adult, and the world was at war.

The portraits huddled together right outside the room where the professors discussed this war. They listened for anything that might alert them to what was going on in the world outside, and they ran around to tell their friends and dispel of nervous energy after the doors burst open and the news seeped out.

It did not surprise Eugenia that James and Lily had a child so soon after graduating. The two were always too dramatic, even though Lily had always made sure to never use that stupid nickname that Eugenia missed from time to time. It did surprise Eugenia that they died not even two years after the child’s birth. It distressed her that she knew the murderer. It bothered her, greatly.

Eugenia would let none of her lovers see her for weeks. She walled off her portrait and let in only the Gryffindors. Some students begged for their significant others to be let in, and Eugenia refused. She understood a war rampaged. She just didn’t want to allow it inside Gryffindor.

It was Poppy who came to her one day, many months after James and Lily’s deaths. The sweet boy Peter had died. Sirius Black was in Azkaban. Remus Lupin was lost to the world.

Poppy sat across from Eugenia, her knees knobby, her frame smaller than when she had anxiously paced back and forth, waiting for her girlfriend to come out for their date.

Eugenia would not give her the pleasure of speaking first. “Spit it out,” she hissed.

“Your judgement is sound,” Poppy said.

And the women stared at each other, and Eugenia could not make the words leave her throat.

“You do a good job here,” Poppy told her.

“I never get to see them again,” Eugenia whispered. “They leave, and they take their mischief with them.”

Poppy’s smile was wobbly. “And we are not there anymore to heal them.”

Eugenia spent the night in silence, and the next morning she informed each Gryffindor who left the common room that she would again open the doors. “But I have jurisdiction,” she said.

“Of course, Genie,” a fifth-year replied, winking at her. “You know best.”

She tried to hold back her flinch at the nickname, waiting until the child had turned the corner before she shuddered. A hippo rumbled behind her and she turned around to flip it off.

Severus came back a few years after, and it was as if he had never left at all. Tall boy, not grown into himself yet, sitting at the professors’ table when Eugenia peaked her head in. She didn’t like to sit in the Great Hall paintings–too much commotion–but enjoyed hearing the gossip. Sacrifices had to be made for gossip.

Eugenia liked whispering ‘Snivellus’ as he walked past her, hiding behind a rock in a landscape. He stopped and turned around, eyes darting every which way, and Eugenia held her snort. She gave a full belly laugh when he was gone, though, and scampered off to tell all her friends, her dress waving behind her.

She knew Harry Potter had to come at some point, but his wide eyes and horrific scar were not any easier to see with this vague preparation. She sang louder on his first night than she had in decades, and Anne sat a few portraits away to listen.

Harry’s friends were questionable, but of course he didn’t have a wonderful pool to choose from. Ron was too happy, Hermione was nosy and asked Eugenia’s name the first day the two met, and Neville forgot the password and made Eugenia late to far too many picnics for her to count.

Circe, from her position up by the towers, tried to get Eugenia to befriend a Slytherin–she pretended that wasn’t her motive, but how could it not be, sliding the boy’s name into every other conversation and using adjectives such as “lonely” and “snarky” to entice her? A Slytherin had to be brought by a Gryffindor, though. Eugenia had never let a random non-Gryffindor inside, and she certainly wasn’t going to start with Draco, a boy who made Hermione cry and hit her knee on Eugenia’s frame in her rush to get inside. The cheery boy Ron even lost his cheeriness every once in a while due to this lad. The slugs were funny, though, although Eugenia visited the infirmary that night and heard Poppy discussing the intense dehydration they had almost caused.

She and Anne spooked Draco for the next few months in any downtime they could find. It was like they were teenagers again, and the two adored it, stealing kisses in between jumping from portrait to portrait and calling his name–

“Draco…”

“Draco!”

“Draco, over here!”

“Draco…”

–so he didn’t know where to look.

Hogwarts was unsafe again, but Eugenia wasn’t really sure it had ever returned to safety. Since she had seen that boy Tom stand in front of her, she had always been a bit on edge. She found it ridiculous that Albus was still in charge–the previous headmaster hadn’t lasted nearly this long, and he didn’t have as many issues with her being a bit late to her post. Albus was a bit more of a stickler in that sense, the obnoxious man.

Eugenia tried to tell Minerva that she would make a better headmaster, and while she could tell the woman was pleased the first time she mentioned it, the conversation seemed to bring her annoyance more than anything else afterwards. Minerva’s strides would increase so Eugenia was in a full-on run between portraits, following the professor back to her classroom after a meal. The exercise was enjoyable, though, and Eugenia did snicker when telling the tale to Brian a few nights later, so it all was worth it.

Relations with Circe grew difficult, however. Eugenia feared at first that she hadn’t made herself clear, or that Circe wanted more from her–

“No, no, I’m fine with what we have,” Circe said, pushing her hand through her hair. She bit her lip and wouldn’t meet her lover’s eyes. “It’s just hard to watch. There are students here whose lives you could change.”

Eugenia scoffed. “Excuse me? I let them in and out of their rooms every day; they can’t function without–”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Circe placed a hand on Eugenia’s. “Of course you’re a presence in their lives. Of course their lives change because you’re in it. It’s just… you have the ability to do more.”

Eugenia pulled her hand away.

“I don’t understand why you won’t take the lost ones under your wing.”

A jolt ran through her. Circe’s eyebrows knit together.

“I just… you could do so much.”

“Take the lost ones under your own wing,” Eugenia snapped.

“I’m trying. I talk to them, I do, but they don’t listen…”

Eugenia laughed. “And they would listen to me?”

“They have to talk to you, you quite literally have a space where they could feel at home–”

Eugenia stood, pulling her dress up, over her shoulders. The fabric felt wrong. Too heavy on her body. “They have to talk to me? Oh, no, they don’t.”

“Don’t leave,” Circe pleaded. But she remained seated, and bit her lip. “I just mean, you could make Gryffindor a place for people to feel at home. Like you do for the queer kids. Like you do for everyone.”

“Not everyone,” Eugenia said, and she turned to walk away, Tom Riddle’s face pounding in her brain.

Severus Snape, who still walked these halls.

Draco Malfoy, fast asleep in the dungeon.

Sirius Black, the boy she let con her.

Remus Lupin reentered the castle the following year. Eugenia watched him walk in with Anne, the two muttering about his face, the facial hair they had watched him grow, the scars they had witnessed appear. Eugenia noticed the same inability to form a full smile that she had seen from many students before. She understood why he felt blank.

He sought her out and she was grateful for it. He just strolled up one afternoon, and she looked at him solemnly.

“Password?”

He cracked a smile. “Ah, no, not today. I just wanted to come, and…” he looked around at the empty corridor.

“Am I the only one who knows?” Eugenia asked.

Remus met her eyes. “Yes.”

It fell silent, and Eugenia’s voice shook when she spoke next. “I hate him.”

Remus’s face wobbled into a smile. His voice barely made noise at all. “I love him.”

And Eugenia closed her eyes and sobbed, loudly and for a long time. When she opened her eyes, Remus was gone, and a crowd of students waited to be let into their common room.

Harry Potter was not like his father, and perhaps for this alone Eugenia liked him more. He was quieter, more respectful of others’ space and ears, and his snark was sparing but when it came out, it bit. Eugenia had to work very hard to hide her smirk each time she overheard it, and she loved that.

Nights were a bit quieter without Circe. Eugenia still had Anne, and Brian, and a few others, but she was more hesitant to make new friends–lovers or platonic. This castle was only so large, after all, and avoiding Circe’s disappointed looks took up far too much energy. Eugenia spent more time with the animals, letting cows come to graze and sheep curl up at her feet. She perfected the whistle to get her favorite dog to come and shoo all the animals away when the smell became too much.

But there was very little she could do when an animal existed outside of the painting. She couldn’t do anything but watch as the black dog in front of her watched her open her eyes. She didn’t know what was happening as the dog grew–

“Oh, fucking Merlin,” she breathed. She clutched her arms.

Older, yes. Withered. But the same hungry look in his eyes. Same glint like he knew more than she did. Same disrespectful stance, walking closer to her.

“Genie?” he whispered. “Genie, let me in. I need Harry, I need to–”

“Remus!” Eugenia screeched, like someone would come. “Minerva!” Her voice echoed down the hallway and Sirius turned.

“Re–what?” He shook his head. “No, Genie, I need Harry, let me in–”

“There is no way I am letting you in, Sirius Black–” she raised her voice again– “Sirius Black!”

“Eugenia!” he hissed. “Let me the fuck in, I need to get to Harry, he’s my godson–”

“Sirius Black!”

“Fucking–Eugenia, let me in!”

“Someone help me! Someone come! Sirius Black is here!”

“Oh, fucking shit, I–” he reached around the edges of her frame and Eugenia held herself, leaning backwards. He pulled and pulled, his face contorting and wincing each time Eugenia screamed louder. “Peter is in there, I need to get that son of a–”

“Get the fuck away, you shithead! You’re mad, Peter is dead, you–”

“Let me in–”

Sirius began to claw at her painting, and she shrieked and ran back. Her dog was barking now, and scurried off to other portraits. She could hear the castle come alive with the animal's yelps. Sirius stared at her, his jaw shifting, breathing heavily. He swallowed, morphed back into an Animagus, and scampered away.

There was very little Albus could do to console her. She tried to explain this to him many times–he had been obnoxious as a student, too rigid as a Headmaster, and now, clearly, not nearly rigid enough, if a murderer was on the loose in his school. Albus tried to explain that she’d have all the time and peace she needed, and he had her moved elsewhere for recovery. She swore at him all the way. She did not need to be moved, she needed confirmation Sirius Black had been locked up again. She needed Tom Riddle gone. She needed every Slytherin checked for their true alliances.

Eventually, she returned to her post at Gryffindor. Eugenia contemplated cutting off all her hair over the next year. She wondered if a lack of hair would give her a new mindset. She kind of wanted to grow a whole new part of her that had never seen tragedies before.

Brian sat with her while she cut it off; he spread the hair in the breeze for the birds to build nests with.

“Will you still find me attractive?” she asked.

Brian laughed. “It would take the work of a very dark wizard indeed for me to no longer find you gorgeous. Just… gorgeous.” He held her face in his hands and smiled. He kissed her softly. Eugenia walked back to her portrait slowly, listening to the sounds of the castle. She lay down in front of the Gryffindor common room and slept.

Age had not granted Ron Weasley any more quietness. Eugenia kept waiting, but even four years after she first met him, he spoke loudly and with glee. He made Harry and Hermione laugh far too often. Naturally, it was the moments when he and his trio were silent that intrigued Eugenia the most.

“Yeah, he’s at Professor Lupin’s house, he’s sending me letters–”

“I really can’t tell Mum, she’ll be horrified that Sirius Black is communicating with you–”

“No, I think she knows, I think they’re all working together–”

“I really don’t think so, I mean she was really–”

Eugenia stood up, and the sudden movement startled the three. “Are you talking about Sirius Black?”

Harry blinked. “Er, yes.”

“What are you doing with that man?” She felt her heart pump. “Is he here? Are you in danger?”

“No, no.” Harry stepped closer. “He’s innocent. He’s my godfather.”

And Eugenia listened, and her limbs barely waited to let the three in before sprinting down to Albus’ office. She screamed at his door until he came out, and she screamed at him once he stood in front of her.

She berated him for ruining this man’s life, for ruining that boy’s life, for keeping two people apart who very clearly needed each other. She screamed until her voice ran out, and then sat while he spouted bullshit at her, gulping water from the stream next to her. She interrupted him when her vocal cords worked again, and informed him he was to never stand in front of her again, and she would never allow him inside the common room again, and she–

Eugenia put her hands to her head.

“You’re an absolutely awful excuse for a headmaster.”

Eugenia saw Minerva on her stalk back to her portrait, and Minerva’s eyes dripped with tears. Her mouth opened, and Eugenia nodded, and heard Minerva’s steady voice grow shaky as she walked farther away. Good. Minerva would handle this.

She stopped Harry the next time he exited the common room alone. She told him she had known his parents. She told him he was most like his godfather, but that she could see parts of all of them in him. She loved the look on his face when she spoke of his family.

“Would you… I mean, could you tell me about them sometime?” Harry bit his lip and Eugenia nodded.

“I would. Perhaps you could do less sneaking out in the middle of the night, as payment.”

Harry blushed. “Ah, right.”

“It’s just, I’m fast asleep, you know. And then I’ve got to let you out, and then back in…”

Harry pushed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, no, yeah. Well, thank you.” He smiled up at her, and Eugenia felt her heart beat. “Your name is Eugenia, right?”

Eugenia leaned back and nodded slowly.

Perhaps it was time to bring this awful nickname back. Perhaps a boy’s sass could bring his adult self some comfort. Perhaps Eugenia wanted to change her own legacy in this castle, in her home.

She waved her grapes around in the air, and spoke to the boy. “Yes.” She smirked pleasantly. “I go by Genie.”

#eugenia #the fat lady #wolfstar fic #jily fic #harry potter #hp #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #the marauders era #marauders fic #arewelonely #gn mes amours

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years

Text

NCT Dream reaction : you give them a handmade gift

M.list

Genre : fluff fluff fluff

Word count : 2.5K words

Mark Lee

*sigh* my overworked baby, SM pls let him rest

he probably forgets to eat from time to time or just doesn’t time to

which breaks your poor little heart :<

so when Mark stays in the recording room until late in the night once again, you don’t go to him empty handed

you go to him with a handful of homemade cookies!!! ヽ(^◇^*)/

when you enter the studio, Mark’s slumped figure immediately straightens up, tired eyes lighting up at the sight of you

he turns in his chair and stretched out his arms to you with a puppy face and your heart :((( just :((((( melts :(((((((((( wow mark no need to kill us all with your babie culture

but who are you to say no to this angel with somewhat less appropriate thoughts but you didn’t hear this from me so you don’t hesitate to walk into his open arms

he lays his head on your stomach, nuzzling into you and cuddling up to you like a clingy koala bear as you run your fingers comfortingly through his hair, lightly massaging his head

with the serene atmosphere you almost forgot why you came so you pulled away from Mark, your heart clenching at his whine and bring the bag with the cookies out of your backpack and thrust it in his hands

he looks from you to the bag and back with eyes so wide and innocent your brain almost short circuited at the utter cuteness

he digs into it once you prompt him to, a soft ‘woah’ coming out from him once he was hit with the sight of freshly baked cookies

“daaamn these are so good, babe” your eyes shine with pride

as he sticks one in his mouth, munching delighted at it (◠‿◠✿) , he grabs you with an arm, sitting you on his lap like a baby that you are and prodding your lips with another cookie he grabbed out of the bag

“oh no, I made these for you, I don’t-”

he doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he pushes the cookie in your mouth, watching you fondly as you start munching on it and patting your head with a gentle hand

“you’re so much cuter when you’re not nagging”

*GASP*

the Disrespect

Huang Renjun

this baby probably also showers you in his own gifts such as paintings or drawing of you sooo

it’s only proper that you also gist him something made by you (°∀°)

you work your cute ass off to perfect the most adorable Moomin key-chain you can come up with *huff*

the day you finally deem it good enough to be shown to the top artist Huang Renjun you sweat buckets as you approach him

Renjun is busy on his iPad as you paddle over to him and stick the key-chain in his face with a dumb but proud smile “here”

Renjun turns to you with a blank face “what is this?”

●‿●

when I tell you the blood drained from your face and you died 50 times internally, your soul just left your body and you saw your life flash before your eyes ‘well life was good, time to say goodbye eyy’

you manage a loud and definitely not artificial laugh

“HAHAHA JUST AN UGLY THING I made I MEAN FOUND HAha ʰᵃ!!! Hey doesn’t it look like you in the morning?!”

that’s when you knew you gotta bolt the scene

but Renjun of course couldn’t let your embarrassment end there the grumpy little gremlin

he snatched the keychain from you and curled his other hand around you, gluing you to his side and you froze as you looked into his sparkly wide eyes ( Renjun’s eyes are galaxies fite me )

“you made this for me?”

“uh yeah”

warning : you were strangled to death by Renjun who deemed that a simple ‘thank you’ just couldn’t suffice, you had to die asphyxiated by his bear hug

“thank u thank u thank it’s so cute, I love it so much! I love you so much!!!”

“do you love me more than Moomin?”

warning 2 : he threw you away faster than he captured you in his deathly cute hug

“know your place, no. 2″

(¤﹏¤)

Lee Jeno

so Jeno is just a biiiiit upset at you maybe

okay maybe a bit more than just a bit

because you might or might have not broken his favorite cup which, mind you, was also a gift from you, when you were at the dorms

so now this overgrown baby gives you THE stinky eye and makes sarcastic and grumpy remarks with any chance he gets

and honesty as much as you love him, you’re ABSOLUTELY DONE with his pettiness :’)

that’s how you find yourself seated at your desk with a blank cup, acrylic watercolors and brushes spread everywhere as you squeeze every ounce of willpower to finish what you started

so after 2 mental breakdown, painted fingers and a veryyy dirty desk, you finished painting a cute design on Jeno’s new cup

you let it dry and didn’t waste another second to bring it to Jeno who still sulked at the dorms

once you were let inside, you trudged over to Jeno who was sat at the couch, refusing to get up and greet you with kisses as he usually did and slammed the cup on the coffee table in front of him

his frown turned into a confused puppy face so fast his duality amazed you once again, he lifted the cup gently, running the tips of his fingers gently over the paintings you worked so hard to complete for him

“are you still mad, nono?”

his silence was quite unnerving as you started to tire yourself out, your voice weakened by worry, but he lifted his head, looking at you with eyes so soft your heart fluttered wildly in your chest

“mad? you-you did this for me and you think I’m mad?”

he put the cup down much gentler than you and stood up from his seat, engulfing you in his arms, one of his hands squeezing you impossibly close to him and the other one cradling your head to his chest

“I think I just fell in love with you once again”

“if you fall in love just from a painted cup I should be more careful when I leave you alone”

he chuckled at your witty remark, kissing the side of his neck

once you broke apart, he placed his new favorite cup on the highest shelf and turned to you with a shit-eating grin

“i’ll put this here so maybe you won’t break this one too”

“sleep with an eye open tonight, lee” (☉‿☉✿)

Lee Donghyuck

so another overworked baby of mine bless his soul

his schedule is so packed so even though he’d cuddle with you until the end of times you actually didn’t get to do that as often as you’d like

and we all know how whiny lil cutie baby Haechanie can get when he doesn’t get what he wants :’))))

and since unfortunately you can’t be beside him all of the time like he wants you to, you decide the next best thing : you knit him a scarf !! you even stuck a tag made out of a soft material with a drawing of a smiley sun to one end of the scarf

he looks so shocked when you skip into his room and lovingly strangle him with the scarf

and you swear you could see his eyes glisten when you tell him you made it yourself and he remembers the bandaids that seemed to grow in number every day which you always shrugged of when he asked

although the tears may be from the lack of air ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

n e way, he looks so thankful as he wordlessly cradles your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and taking the time to litter kisses over every single one of your small injuries, whispering a soft ‘i love you’ at the end

you swear your heart runs leaps through your rib cage

he just loves you so so much and would appreciate anything you give him

you bring his face back up and press a huge *smooch* on his lips and you both giggle in between your kisses

why so cute you lovebirds?!?

he brings the scarf everywhere he goes, to the dorms, to every show, concert, whenever he travels somewhere, no matter the season

it becomes his lucky charm

once, Renjun sends you a picture of your Hyuckie sleeping cuddled up to the scarf, his nose nuzzled into it

“you know I won’t let him forget about this. EVER” you smirk at Renjun’s text, typing back a reply

“pls do” ( ಠ◡ಠ )

Na Jaemin

this sweet boi hold close to his heart anything you give him

so there’s literally no reason to stress over the bracelet you decided to craft for him

but you being you of course you want to rip your hair out every time something doesn’t go your way ah the levels of patience are definitely soaring through the roof

you even swallowed your pride and asked Jeno for help (read as used him as a puppet) so you were sure you’d get the right size

so after doubting the colors, patterns, material, your entire life choices, you asked Jaemin to close his eyes the next time you met up

with extra shaky fingers, you wrapped the bracelet around his wrist and fumbled to tie it properly

“I’m not getting any younger over here, y/n”

“shut up, mommy jaemie”

he managed to slap the back of your head even with his eyes closed (>‘o’)>

so when you finally tied a sturdy knot with your chicken fingers, you let him open his eyes and beach let me tell you the way his entire face broke into a smile at the sight of the pretty bracelet around your wrist

the sun seemed to pale in comparison with his precious smile, jaemin lights up the world no question, there’s no way you can convince me otherwise

“oh my God, my baby spent time making me such a pretty gift, I must have saved a country in my previous life, come here, let me smooch you into next week (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ “

so that’s how you ended up trapped in Jaemin’s embrace FOREVER

he kept on complimenting you the entire day and made it his mission to boast to every member he could get is hands on about his pretty gift made by his even prettier baby, he’s such a sucker for you no joke whipped culture right here m’am

“Jaemin, the the threads are getting dirty, don’t you think it’s time to take it off-?”

“I’ll die wearing this ʘ‿ʘ“

Zhong Chenle

among all of his ultra expensive things he has, he is dead sure that you’re the most precious in his life

he often told you he’d give up every penny in his bank and all his fame as long as he got to keep you by his side

he regarded you as a ray of warm light when the world left him cold and he swore he’d fight off anything and anyone who dared to hurt you

so this is how he found himself a bit confused and extremely guilty over how he is supposed to fight himself, watch and learn baby

he never meant to upset you, especially over something you poured your blood, sweat and tears into perfecting it just for him

sure, you were aware the Chinese patters you sewed carefully into a pristine white material weren’t perfect, but the way he laughed in you face once you offered it to him toppled your negative emotions over

he wasn’t aware that you sewed it yourself when he made fun of it

“jeez, where did you get this from, Y/N, the clownery fair? even though you should report them for to costumer protection for its ugliness”

“maybe I should report you for being a bitchy prick” ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

you glare at him and storm away, slamming the door

chenle, the most oblivious and babiest boyfriend : (Θ︹Θ)ს well shit

but of course you couldn’t stay mad at him for long when he sweet talked his way back into your good side basically every minute of the day after finding out from Renjun (this angry angel helped you bless his soul) how hard you worked to sew that

so even though you’re still sulking a lil bit

you accept to come over at his house and as soon as you enter his room you’re shook

where one of his posters once hung above his bed now stood your sewing project proudly

you stared in awe like （’◎’）

“but I though you said it’s ugly”

“that’s before I knew it’s made by you. Anything you did is directly promoted to gorgeous, admirable, incomparable-”

ヾ(＠⌒▽⌒＠)ﾉ

3 weeks later while cuddling

you : *GASP* “I’m so sorry for calling you a bitchy prick, baby”

Park Jisung

he is a giant as much as he is a baby and you agree with me even if you don’t

babies are fascinated by almost anything, especially colorful things

which means Jisung is also fascinated by colorful things ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

so when you met and you pulled out a few origami figures of different, lively colors, Jisung : (✪㉨✪)

“woah, how did you do these?”

“they’re like basic origami figurines”

if he wasn’t amazed enough already

when you picked up a purple frog and pressed on its bottom and it jumped, Jisung jumped up with it

“WOAH, how did you do THAT?”

you didn’t have the heart to break his innocent awe and tell him it didn’t take longer than 5 minutes to make that frog

so you just settled for a shrug and a simple

“magic, Jisung, magic”

at that, he straightens up in his seat, his awestruck expression fading into a serious one as he grips your shoulders tightly （´＿｀）

“you’ve been lying to me, haven’t you?” ~(｡☉︵ ಠ@)>

“what do you mean, sungie?”

“you’re a wizard!!!!!!!!!”

*facepalm* *internal sigh* *whale noises because cuteness levels are just too high*

“uh, yeah sure, baby, whatever floats your boat”

you try to turn away to hide your growing smile, but jisung isn’t having it

“no, you can’t leave me like this!! teach me!!!1!”

he grips your sleeve and looks at you with such wide innocent eyes as if you’re another wonder of the world and you swear you melt on the spot

“well, you know, my services aren’t free” (¬‿¬)

“what do you want?”

“kisses?” ( jisung shutting down )

“k-kisses? kisses??!? i mean *clears throat and buffs up* yeah sure, that’s all? i can do kisses” ( this baby blushed after only mentioning it but okay boss baby go off I guess ) (*~▽~)

he could’t even be disappointed when he found out origami was nowhere near to magic when you spoiled him with kithes all evening *cue a red Jisungie*

#cznnet #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream #nct fluf #nct angst #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct renjun #nct mark #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin #nct chenle #nct jisung

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generallybrontidefeelings · 3 years

Text

News for you

A/N: OKAY, gave myself a break to write this lil thing because I needed some fluff from the angst pit I dug myself into. Written for @221bshrlocked #maggies17 writing challenge! Thank you for the prompt, madam, I had fun with this :) also any mistakes belong to me!

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader, Javier Peña x you

Summery: Javi and Steve recruit you, a humble photographer, for a hop, skip, and a jump of a mission. It goes sideways.

Prompt: 66 “I’ve decided to write a how-to manual and you’re going to be the ‘what not to do’ example.”

Warnings: unbeta’d. T rating, a swear word? Tension, adrenaline! fluff, hiding in the trunk of a car? Protective DEA agents. A smooch! A very self-indulgent comfort fic

Words: ~3K ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Javier-ommph.” His shoulders bonked your nose as he turned himself over and around in the trunk of the bronco, further squishing you between himself and Steve. “It’s been three hours. If no one shows up, I’m going to kill you!”

“Okay, honey, later,” he mumbled, looking past you out the rearview window. Low yellow light from the Bogotà street lamps hit his eyes and left the rest of his face in the shadows. His chest rose and fell as he scanned outside, past your head. Behind you, you hear Steve fiddling with his sidearm, clicking the cylinder into place. It’s the lowness, the calming choice of words that make the situation really click for you.

You had stayed as still as you could on your side, sandwiched between the DEA agents’ shoulders. Imagining yourself cartoonishly small helped the awkwardness of having to choose between your ass bumping Steve’s hip, and your thigh lying against Javi’s. The three of you lie very still, listening.

This wasn’t your job. Your job was to sit in the CIA designated office, walk files back and forth between offices, and develop crime scene photos. That was it. It was not as Javi had phrased it ‘doing us a huge favor’ by playing ‘date’ for the evening so he and Murphy could discreetly plant a camera in a hotel room across the way from some sicario’s hideaway. Without thinking too much about it, you tucked your nose against Javi’s shoulder and worked on compartmentalizing what was happening around you. He smelled like faded vetiver, the orange he’d eaten while waiting for Steve to install the tiny camera, and sweat drawn on by the humidity. He met your eyes, glowing sharp and dark under the lamplight, and you saw his apology in them.

The back of the bronco opened you inhaled sharply and squeezed your eyes shut, yelping as Javi’s whole body lands on you, and preparing for noise.

“It’s clear, agents, you can come out.”

The image Carillo found when he opened the trunk would have been comical. The gringos bodies squished impossibly in the trunk of the Bronco; Murphy and his dumbass long legs curled upward like a dried-out harvestman blinking in the flashlight glare, and behind him, Peña practically lying on top of a you - a woman he vaguely recognized from the embassy if he squinted. And it didn’t look like the way Peña normally lied over women. Your face heated up under the warm flashlights and your own welling relief.

When the car door started rattling, Javier had tried to crawl over you and push you behind him, or under him, somewhere not as vulnerable. But in the cramped quarters, he’d only gotten as far as moving his back completely on top of you so you were the big spoon - a big spoon who was near suffocating and panicking. His ass fell heavily into your hip bone, sending a shooting pain down your leg. All you could see was Javi’s shoulder, and the blinding flashlights of the Search Bloc men.

“Did you get the camera installed?” Carillo asks, as you try to stay still under Javi’s deadweight.

“Yeah, it’s in.” His voice reverberates through you, and you want to smack him for dragging you into this situation.

“You better get up, Peña, or you’ll suffocate that poor woman.” Your eyes popped open, and you gave in, smacking Javi on the shoulder until he moved. You hissed when you tried to sit up, your hip burning and calve cramping at the same time. The flashlights died, and you were back to sitting in the orange hued shadows inside the Bronco trunk.

“All right, lady?” Steve asked, hanging his legs off the trunk of the car. Men with rifles stalk around the vehicle, one reporting to Carillo, another two keeping sharp eyes out. It’s quiet for the amount of bodies milling around.

“Yeah-ow. I’ll be okay.” Javi was moving quietly, looking apologetic, glancing between your sore hip and your face.

“You’re heavy, Peña,” you say, more to let him know you’re all right, all right enough to give him shit. His lips quirked up a little, and he let his body stretch out, leaning on the trunk ledge. You gently massaged the area that hurt while Javi and Carillo talked together, only catching a few words here and there. It feels like forever later, you sandwiched again sitting on the edge of the trunk between Steve and Javi, swinging your sneakers in little arcs, trying to control your facial expressions. You see Carillo jerk his chin at you, and Javi looks you over before answering. In an unexpected display, Carillo smacks Javi on the shoulder as well, saying what you guess is an expletive before turning and gathering his men.

“Okay, here’s where we are.” Javi leans on the trunk bed again and bumps your shoulder with his. “The camera is on and transmitting, which is good. Bad news is the sicarios are on alert. Search Bloc wants to escort us home while they keep up the hunt.”

“Do you own a gun?” Murphy’s question breaks your staring.

“No, not yet. I meant to…” you trail off as he shakes his head. You know it’s stupid of you not to have any protection. This is Colombia, and you’re a single woman on American government paycheck. You finish lamely, holding your elbows: “I meant to get one.”

“If they saw her they might be looking for her. Have her stay with you for the night.”

Javi’s eyebrows raise imperceptibly. You want to say ‘no thank you’ and ‘let’s do it’ all at once. He got you into this mess anyway.

“Sure, that’s fine.” You let out the breath you’re holding, actually relieved. You didn’t want to go home to your lonely, dark apartment after this. Not for a little while.

Search Bloc escorts the three of you back to the apartment complex, and you’re ushered inside the building one group at a time.

“Play nice,” Steve mumbles as he steps out of the bronco for his turn into the building. You watch him saunter in under the harsh lamplight.

The driver calls back some directions, then takes off driving. You turn to Javi in the backseat, distress written across your face.

“He says we’re going around the block a couple times then they’ll take us in. Relax,” he suggests, and without preamble, slips his hand around your folded ones in your lap.

It’s a tense ride. Every corner you close your eyes and take a slow controlled breath. And every time Javi’s hand squeezes yours, the other wrapped around the grip of his sidearm. When the Search Bloc boys bring you back to the complex your sneakers scrape against the pavement up the stairs, then against the hardwood until Javi’s door clicks shut behind you. Then, only then, do you give in to your body's demand to breathe deeply.

You gather your surroundings - it’s a cushy place, raised kitchen leading back to a bedroom and recessed living area. It would be homey if not for the messes on every surface; mostly cigarette packages, cassette tapes, half-empty glasses. The domesticity distracts you from the reality outside, of tire treads rushing through water run-off along the road. Headlights sweep across the edges of the ceiling to illuminate and fracture the room. It’s exactly what you expect for Javier Peña.

“Is your hip all right?” Javi is lighting a cigarette, but watching you intently. You lift your left leg a bit and shake it. Only a lingering ache remains.

“It’s fine. A bath will help it,” you say. He nods and puffs out the smoke. You don’t know what to do, so you reach behind you and hook your fingers into the waistline of your skirt and look anywhere but him. The swish follows you down to the couch where you sit, and absently fiddle with the fabric.

“I know that was more than I asked of you, and I appreciate it.” He pushes his stacks of magazines back into tissues and a crystal ashtray so he can sit on the coffee table. “You did well under pressure.”

“I belong in a lab, Peña,” you say, leaning your chin on your knuckles. “I’m glad I could help, but don’t ask me to do that again. Ever.”

“Cross my heart.”

You smile at him. He’s stupidly handsome; he’d caught your eye the day you’d begun working in the embassy halls in the CIA rooms. You did your part, telling him ‘no’, and pulling confidential files out of his hands, and exchanging barbs daily. But that didn’t stop the tender flame of attraction that grew; you knew it wasn’t your place to harbour it, especially when the rumors of how he behaved with informants reached your ears. It didn’t matter, you decided. It didn’t dissuade you, so you let that little flame smolder freely, content to do your work and content to treat him as Agent Peña. Now in his living room, in the fluorescent kitchen lamplight, you wish all that would go away so you could sleep on his couch in peace.

He didn’t help, calling you ‘honey’ and leaning on your desk to sweetly ask for specific rolls to be developed before others. He didn’t help at all, jamming his foot in the dark room door before you locked it, asking in his softest voice if he could get a look at them before anyone else did. And he helped the least when in his enthusiasm at whatever break he found in the photos, he’d draw you in by your shirt sleeve and press a grateful kiss to your temple before scribbling down whatever connection he had made. You were always grateful for the red lights hiding the heat that rose under your skin.

“Do you have any spare blankets?”

He looks around, like it’s the first time anyone’s asked him. “No, I don’t.”

“Not even a throw?” Exhaustion leaks into your tone. It’s nearly midnight, and you just want to sleep. Javi stands and shrugs his jacket off. He extends his hand and you take it, letting him lead you down the hall to his bedroom. It’s neat, smells faintly of his cologne and smoke and soap. Before you knew it, he was pushing a big t-shirt into your hands and sitting himself on the bed’s edge to undress. You took the opposite edge, gingerly taking your sneakers off and groaning at the relief of being able to wiggle your toes.

You decide modesty is for people who don’t identify drug cartel hired guns for a grocery money, and slide into Javi’s bedsheets in your underwear and his borrowed t-shirt. The light in the room clicks off, and you listen to Javi rustle around getting comfortable with your eyes closed. His hand lands on your thigh over the blankets.

“You’re okay,” he says low, and you respond by resting your hand on top of his wrist as you drift into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How you got here

“It would just be for a couple hours,” Javi had said, standing over your desk with Steve and your supervisor. Murphy did his part playing skeptic, arms crossed, and his striped tie on too tight. Your supervisor mirrored him, glaring at Peña for asking for such a favor. A big favor. Dark room specialists don’t grow on trees, and you had rolls of film to get processing today.

“Why can’t one of your informants do this?” your supervisor asks. You raise your eyebrows at Javi.

“Well, an informant you have to pay.” Murphy tilts his head to the side. Uncle Sam’s purse strings had been a little tight this quarter. “And she’s already on payroll.”

“It’s up to you,” your super says, leaving you under the hopeful stares of Javi and Steve.

“Look,” Javi leans on your desk, getting low enough to make the conversation private, “you don’t have to do anything dangerous. All we need is to use the hotel room to set up a camera looking into an apartment across the street. You would give us a plausible reason to be entering the hotel, and could help us identify the guy if he shows up. So we’re shooting in the right direction.”

You squint at Javi. He’s playing the biggest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. Crossing your arms on your desk, you lean forward so you’re even closer to his face, close enough to smell the last cigarette he had was at least an hour ago. “Do you need help setting up the equipment?”

The twitch in his cheek tells you everything, just as Murphy answers “yes.”

“Okay, I’ll bite, fellas.”

“It will be in and out, honey. Shouldn’t be more than two hours.” His eyes are reassuring as you grab your handbag.

The hotel clerk speaks with Javi as Murphy stands at your side with a hand lying stiffly on your waist, an appropriate distance from anything intimate, and just firm enough to give the impression of a pleasant couple.

He gets a key, and the three of you reach the room without a hitch. You help Murphy get the little camera up and transmitting. Javi keeps an eye by the window, looking out the translucent curtains.

“Bad news. Fuck,” Javi murmurs, and it makes your blood go cold. Murphy stops packing up the bag your equipment had come in and kicks it under the room bed. “We gotta get to the car.” Murphy reaches for the phone, dialing.

“What’s wrong?” you ask anyone. It’s too vague, you can’t tell what the private language of partners is communicating to one another.

Javi left the window, signaling to Steve to hurry up with his phone call. “Someone ratted on us, we need to get moving.”

“I thought you said this wouldn’t be dangerous,” you hiss at him. You see him huff in frustration, and immediately feel bad. “Javi…”

He smooths his hand under your elbow. “Honey, I’m sorry.”

The three of you make a graceless exit out the back service stairs into the Bogotà twilight, street lamps already on painting things in hazy greens to the humming of cicadas. Your sneakers whisper on the pavement, one hand gripping the back of Javi’s jacket; you feel silly doing it, but you don’t want to lose him, even if he’s inches in front of you. Steps away from the car, your heart is beating loud enough you barely heard the agents agree on where to lay low.

“Trunk?” Murphy whispered. He had one hand hovering on the center of your back, the other on his revolver.

Javi flicked his head to his partner, nodding. “Trunk.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where you ended up

You woke up because something radiating heat was just downright uncomfortable in the already unbearable Colombian humidity. You wiggled into cooler sheets, only it followed you.

You realized it was because it was an arm, thrown over your middle. As carefully as you could, you looked over your shoulder to the owner of the arm.

Light trailed in through the gauzy blue curtains, backlighting Javi’s features and bare chest, laying shadows across his slack face. Uninterrupted by his chatting and clothing, you let yourself take him in; a soft chest inflating rhythmically, and a broad shoulder that collapsed on itself, either from weight, or it’s reach for your own body. You turned back over and nuzzled into the pillow, happy you’d led him lead you to his bed to sleep next to him. You couldn’t imagine being able to sleep soundly without someone there after hiding for your life for hours. A shudder runs through you at the thought, triggering Javi’s breathing to hitch and he draws you closer.

“Javi,” you murmur in warning. He’s really too warm. He groans back at you, palming your hip but not removing his arm, and you push a little into his hand. “Is there a manual for making quick exits?”

“You gonna run away, baby?” You preen a little under the name, and compensate by pressing your heating cheek into the pillow.

“No,” you say, letting your eyes fall closed and just enjoying the feel of his thumb brushing over the back of your hip bone through his old shirt. “But I’ve decided to write a how-to manual and you’re going to be the ‘what not to do’ example.”

He shuffles closer to you so you’re leg to leg. “Yeah? For what?”

You send your top leg out so he can rest his bare thigh between yours. You start in a sing-song voice: “‘What not to do for an effective escape: don’t bring an extra person with you when your means of escape is a car trunk that only fits two bodies, not three.”

“You fit just fine,” he says, and you shiver at his nose bumping your clothed shoulder.

“I was squished.”

He snorts. “I got news for you: you lived. Even if you got squished. That’s what I call effective.” You hum when you feel him lift over you and press a kiss to your temple, then your cheek. Turning your head you graze his lips with yours while finding his eyes. They’re still sleepy, not quite open all the way. You don’t even have to lift your head to press your mouth to his warm pliant one, and he returns it gently; it’s different from the excited affectionate ones he plants on your head in the darkroom. You just want to let him know you are alive, and grateful. It’s fleeting, and you know in a week or so it will crack your heart a little more.He breaks it first, pressing a second, then a third into your lips, telling you he understands.

He lies back behind you, pulling your frame against him, into his warm chest. “Go back to sleep, honey.”

You pull the sheet around your chin and enjoy the sensation of being held by Javi, if only for a couple more hours.

Tomorrow you’ll be back at the embassy, explaining your role in a DEA operation turned Colombian military operation to your superior, and you’ll be thinking about how Agent Peña is a much better big spoon than you are.

#maggies17 #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña #fanfiction #narcos #writing challenge #fluff #it's mostly fluff and a smooch #it's really self-indulgent #narcos fanfic #narcos netflix #steve murphy #steve!#javier peña #horacio carrillo #@221bshrlocked

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capriccio-con-espressione · 4 years

Text

Birthday Present | Pt.2

(GIF cred)

Genre: Smut

Warning: Sub!Ten, Dom!Reader, Femdom, Dry/Pillow humping, Blindfold, Handjob, Pet play, Hair pulling, Spanking/Belting, Degradation, Pegging, Vibrators, Thigh riding, CFNM, Profanity, Edging, Tooth-rottingly cheesy ending, Ten is lewd and loud and cries

Word Count: 2511

A/N: This is the sequel to this ask (and kudos to @yangyangthelightskin for sending the original ask in 😘😘 and thank you @sunflowerkeen to request a full version of it as well ). Indulge in some seductive Ten!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

You feel surges of bliss consuming your body as Ten's lewd moans and gasps corresponding with your every slap fill the air, spicing and heating up the atmosphere, and the way his bottom rocking and perhaps deliberately brushing against your palm certainly isn't helping.

"Umphh…" Ten's breathing pattern becomes more and more ragged, indicating his building arousal as your gazes meet while you suddenly begin to gently rub his pulsating hard-on. You can easily detect the evident lust in the crescents of his eyes, knowing too well he can see the way you are toying with his cock as well as how the back of his flesh ripples against your every slap.

"Say, since when have you planned to do this? Seducing me like a little whore you actually are?" You break the ice as you suddenly land a slap on the back of his rock-hard balls, drawing out a nice long breathy whimper from him.

“W-When last time we w-w-w-watched T-The Handmaiden together...ahh…” Ten stutters out in a moany voice as you devilishly begin stroking his glistening cock. “I-I couldn’t wipe your facial expressions out of my head when you...mmphh…”

“When I what? Specify.” You order with a grin, though already knowing too much what he’s referring to.

“W-when that B-BDSM scene came up...your h-hungry dark gaze...t-the way you b-bit your lip...oh God...don’t stop mmmm…” Ten manages to gasp out an answer as you are palming his tip, his whole body shaking at the tantalizing stimulation yet his tied hands behind his back can do nothing to support his buckling form.

“You should’ve come clean much sooner.” You darkly add. “Say, you must have wished me to fuck you right there after that movie just like this if Lucas weren’t there to ruin the mood, am I right?”

“Hnngh I don’t think so-ahh!” Ten’s feigned smirking expression soon falters into a yelp while you harshly slap his ass as a warning.

“Liar.” Your fingers roam up and down on his perineum, drawing out whimpers after whimpers from him.

“Hahh fuck yeah...I wish you had r-ruined me like more than this...all I fantasized about you…”

“Now you want more? You want more, you greedy little slut, huh?”

“Ahh-oh yes fucking please…make me your nasty little kitten...ahh...use the things in that box...”

“Oh, you mean this? The particular one you told me to unbox later instead of opening up in the party? Now I can see why...” You immediately reach for the black box lain on the armrest of the couch, before carefully opening it, revealing a set of tortoiseshell-patterned kitten ears with a matching collar with a bell and leash on it plus a furry tail plug, and last but not least, a lacy blindfold.

“Look how prepped I am…” Before Ten can finish his sentence, you flip him over, slamming his body into your embrace as you entwine your lips with his, feeling the smooch getting gradually wetter and messier whilst low grunts and moans vibrate through the plump flesh that tasted like champagne. Your hand snakes down again to fervently jerk him off as you feel him crumble onto your body even more, whilst deeper and deeper you both fall into the frenzy state of boiling lust, with the remains of his clothing coming off as if you're both gradually stripped of the last bits of your rationality.

All of a sudden you withdraw your hand, leaving the boy on your lap mewling with a great sense of loss.

“You’ve really got all the things fully planned out, haven’t you? Come.” You beckon as you untie Ten’s hands, before adorning him with the accessories while he crumbles to his knees pliantly. “Let’s not spoil the fun by unleashing the dirtiest side of you too soon.”

“You mean us...the dirtiest sides of us...”

“You know the safeword rules? The color system?” You change the topic into a more serious one.

"Red means to stop everything, yellow is to slow down, green means…" Ten slightly chokes at the sensation when you pull on the leash attached to the collar to test it. "...fuck yeah…"

"You sure you want to go further, so I can use my best boygift to whatever extent I want?"

"Green."

"You sure you're going to let me take matters into my own hands and let me be ruthlessly sweet but also cruel on you?"

"Green. Look at this..." He gestures to his twitching cock as he sighs when you insert the tail plug into him after some profuse lubing. "...It's so fucking hard for you and only for you..so fuck me and take me down a peg every way you want…"

"Good boy." You cradle his jaw before leaning in to plant a soft brief kiss again. “Now follow my lead.” You pull on the leash, guiding his crawling form across the living room to your bedroom.

Ten’s intense eager gaze burns into you all the time as he moves with his back deliberately arched, his ass swiveling from time to time, his brazen attempt to allure you still evident.

“Now sit.” You order in a stern voice when you reach the desired designation, as the prettily-adorned boy immediately sits up on his ankles, his tongue darting out coquettishly to moisten his lips.

“Think I didn’t notice your lewd behavior just now?”

Ten goes silent though his expressive smirk already says everything.

“Speak.”

“No I-”

“Words.” You cut him off with a firm tug on his hair as he moans out with a ditzy smile in response. “Do I give you permission to use human words, kitten?”

Ten mewls out with a provocatively indignant huff, pouting, then attempts to reach up and claw at you, yet fails because you pull him away to the other side of your body with the leash, making him fall to the ground.

“What a bratty kitten.” You concluded with a smirk while scratching his chin as he nuzzles you，his eyes closed at the enjoyment of your touch. “Since you want to be a naughty horny kitten rutting in heat, I’d let you. Come here.” You coo as you sit on the bed with your legs spread wide, while motioning him to sit on your right thigh, as he immediately leaps up at your order.

“Now ride it.” You command, still pulling on the leash. “Ride it like a keen little kitten eager to please.”

Ten soon commences humping your thigh back and forth, eyes boring hungrily into you as wanton moans at the friction leave his parted lips, making you unable to take the weight of his stare as well as the wonders of his hips anymore, both of his cock and your core dripping with need.

“This shall hinder you from arousing me too much…” You grin coquettishly as you blindfold him with the lace you remembered to bring with you from the gift box, while tracing your fingers on his torso afterward, pulling his face close to you with the leash. “I want my naughty little kitten who thinks he can toy with my heart as much as he pleases with those pretty kitty eyes completely overpowered and humbled…” You growl into his ear, sending shivers down his spine, sensory deprivation evidently heightening his arousal.

You then wickedly pull out the tail plug slightly, making his motions seem as if he’s pushing back and pleasuring his sweet spot on his own. “Fuck yourself, my pretty boy pet.” You feign sweetness in your voice as continuous broken gasps begin rolling out of those luscious lips. “Looks like my cute little kitten is desperate, should I make him cum now hmm?”

The only syllables that Ten can utter are urgent yet breathy mewls, which you take as confirmation to your slightly degrading question.

“Yet bad needy kittens like you don’t deserve the privilege to cum yet. Kneel.” You cruelly conclude as you yank him on the leash, supporting his weight with your arm while standing up and lifting him off your thigh, forcing him back on his place on the ground with your foot pressing down on his thigh.

“Who do you think you are, messing around with my mind with that smug sensuality of yours hmm?” You pull and sway slightly hard on his leash, but still in a controlled manner, while uttering out every single word, making his body jolt and shake helplessly just like a rag doll for your entertainment. “Now you should get the taste of your own medicine...” You chuckle as you drag him even closer to the bed, putting his hands on it. “Crawl onto the bed right now.”

You reach for the two fluffy pillows situated at the end of the mattress as Ten begins to fumble his way to the spot of your desire, then you instruct him to lie on his stomach after placing the pillows underneath his pelvis. “Fuck the pillows just like you imagined I would do to you.” You demand whilst dishing out a belt from your closet. “Continue the little show for me that was somehow interrupted earlier…” You simper while pulling out the tail plug, before tapping the leather on his ass and drawing out shivers of anticipation from the blindfolded boy.

Ten drives into the pillows, burying his face into the mattress as if he’s basking into the warmth of euphoric paradise, as red marks and loud snaps commence blossoming on his seductively swiveling rear.

“Fuck you are really something, aren’t you?” You taunt as you land another loud smack on him again. “You are enjoying this a bit too much, aren’t you? My little slut…” You conclude before lashing out several consecutive blows.

Just then you hear Ten mutter something under his breath. “What is it, my sweet little kitten?” You inquire, now worried.

“Green…” Ten breathes out, this time a bit louder. “Greengreengreengreengreen…”

“Awwww you insatiable one…” You coo when caressing his now red flesh. “I’m gonna wreck you until you’re a helpless begging mess…”

You then fish out your magic wand vibrator from your bedside drawer, then retrieve the ribbon that Ten used to mesmerize you early on, before instructing him to lift his ass up and tying the wand to his swollen red cock, just to switch to the highest setting immediately, making the kitten boy fall back to the pillows again while desperately moaning out loud.

“This is the punishment you get for riling the birthday girl up…” You darkly comment as you resume whipping him again. “And don’t you dare cum unless I say so.”

Moans after moans of prurience emerge from the boy as you fully lash out on him while still pulling his head back on the leash. Ten’s hair is now a ruffled mess, trickles of tears oozing out from the blindfold, making his confident appearance a while ago seems laughable now.

“Do you want to cum, my depraved little kitten?” You inquire condescendingly again as you yank on his hair, as he fervently nods in response, his whimpers so desperate that sound utterly pathetic.

“But sadly you can’t until I’ve had my fair share of fun yet…” You devilishly grin at Ten’s suffering, while switching the vibrator completely off, before grabbing the lube and your favorite strap to the play. You climb onto the bed, sitting down next to him once you’re fully equipped and have him lubed and prepped. “Ride it.” You order once he’s guided to the proper place, where his entrance is right on top of your proudly girthy strap.

Ten’s facing you with his backside, hips making enthralling motions as he bounces up and down on your cock, while whimpering sweetly and throatily. You grab his hips to support him, fingers sporadically tracing and scratching along his body to fire up signals to his senses even more. Ten’s breathing gradually accelerates as he’s building up closer to his next orgasm after getting denied too many times.

“Does my little kitten really want to cum this bad?” You whisper while switching up the vibrator again, earning gasps of surprise and vehement nods from him. “If you really want to, bend over and let me use you like the little fucktoy you only deserve to be.”

Ten lets out faint cries upon the humiliating sentence and quickly obeys. You lube up your strap once more, before positioning yourself and slamming into him ruthlessly, switching on and off the vibrator from time to time to tease the already destroyed boy up, as you can tell that he struggles to heed the rule of using no human words. “You may now use your pretty human words to beg now, my sweet little pretty boy..”

“P-please just let me c-cum...s-stop teasing me…” Ten cries out.

“You promise to be my good little kitten instead of acting up like a lust-filled pervert?”

“Y-yes please!”

“Are those all the words you can think of? I can’t feel your sincerity.” You taunt as you switch off the vibrator while pulling him back with the leash. “Where’s that bad kind of player who was witty and naughty and thought he could have his way with me?”

For a few seconds, Ten’s mind is completely boggled as all he can make is incoherent sounds. “Please please please allow me to cum...it’s driving me crazy...I’ll be a good little kitten only for you so please...I’m begging you…”

Upon his choked voice, you can tell he’s nearing his breaking point. “Cum for your birthday girl then, my cute little kitten.” You softly speak as you switch on the wand again, finally granting the sobbing boy some release after a loud throaty cry.

“You’ve done so well and beautifully for me, baby….” You remove the restrains on him while begin soothing his spanked flesh and still heated body with some lotion after you both come down from your high, as Ten meekly leans into you for a tight embrace.

Some tranquil silence passed between your afterglow as you both hug each other tightly, both knowing too well that this relationship has crossed its line to another level.

“Hey, “ Your giggle breaks the silence. “I know this may sound cheesy and lame, but I have to say this.”

“What?” Ten lazily responds as he reaches up to plant a kiss on your cheek, making you internally flustered despite your cruel appearance just moments ago.

“Thank you for trusting me this much to fulfill your fantasies.”

“You did great as well, much better than my own imagination.” Ten flashes that reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter a little again. “What’s most beautiful about sex is the mutual understanding and chemistry between the partners even when no words are exchanged. After being such great friends for this long, I do believe we can make it, from the bottom of my heart.”

You just nuzzle closer to him, not willing to break this intimate harmony after those enchanting profound words, knowing you just received the best birthday present you could get, ever.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Tagging: @lovingonrepeat

Thank you for motivating me to write this when I hit the writer’s block due to my hard-pressed life outside Tumblr <3

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wendip-week · 3 years

Text

Prompt: Time-Travel

Prompt – Time Travel

It was another fine day in Gravity Falls. Squirrels were chasing each other, baby birds were chirping for food, and the local citizens went about their business, blissfully unaware of the rumored-weirdness that surrounded the valley.

In the town’s tourist-trap, the Mystery Shack, two young workers were sitting behind the register, looking bored. One was a short, scrawny pre-teen with shaggy, brown hair covered by a cap featuring a pine-tree. The other was a tall, lanky redheaded girl in flannel and sporting a trapper-hat. They were the best of friends (or partners-in-crime, depending on who you ask); and at that moment, they’d rather have been anywhere else.

“Ugh! Dipper! Why’s your uncle making us sit here? This place is half-dead! We’ve had, what? Sixteen customers all day, and maybe three of them wanted to buy something?” the girl said, laying across the counter.

“Yeah. Well, it’s Stan, Wendy. ‘Any potential sucker is basically a customer, and customers have money, so don’t miss an opportunity to get some!’”

“Nice one. But seriously, dude, I wish we could go on some adventure. Heck, I’ll take anything: scary or cheesy,” the girl said confidently.

“Really?” Dipper replied, looking at her. “You’d stoop to something out of our B-movie collection?”

Wendy paused, clearly giving this some thought. “Well…”

“The Crawling Deer-Demon-Duck is hiding in that condemned-house, Cassandara!” Dipper said in a low-baritone, his face pouting with mock-bravery. “What kind of brave seventeen-year-old slight bad-boy would I be if I didn’t go in there alone to try and stop it?”

Accepting his challenge, Wendy stood up. “Oh, Drewson! You can’t! It’s too dangerous!” she replied, adopting a terrible accent of a Southern-belle. She put the back-end of her hand on her forehead dramatically, while using her other to grab his sleeve. “I won’t let you go into that condemned house where the Deer-Demon-Duck is hiding!”

Dipper gently moved her hand away and faced her more directly. “But you have to let me!”

“Oh, Drewson!!!” Wendy lamented, now looking Dipper in the eyes.

“Cassandara…” Dipper did the same…

The two’s faces came closer and closer…

Meanwhile, from two different ends of the Shack, a couple of thirteen-year-olds watched with interest. One, a fit-looking, freckle-faced girl with brown hair, stared with wide-eyes; she had her hands over her mouth as she barely suppressed a squeal. It was just too cute and hilarious! The other was a bulky young-man with copper hair. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling.

Wendy and Dipper’s faces were now inches from one another; neither breaking the act. Just as it seemed they were about make contact…

*FLASH!*

“Bwaaaahhh!!!” cried out a voice of pure-chaos.

…A white flash of light and a subsequent familiar-sounding snap caught them off-guard (and momentarily blinded the duo).

“Hey!” Dipper shouted.

“What the heck?!” Wendy replied, blinking to get her sight back.

“You guys! That was adorable!” Mabel, Dipper’s twin who sported braces, a homemade sweater, and thick, long brown cried out.

“Mabel?” said Wendy. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to hear all that!” the energetic girl told her friend while holding a photo-camera.

“W-We were imitating a scene from one of our movies!” Dipper replied quickly, his face suddenly a deep-red.

“Tomato-Potato! A smooch-scene’s a smooch-scene! Look!” Mabel told them, holding up an instant-photo. Looking closer, it featured Dipper and Wendy, inches apart and puckered up. “And I thought your only chest-hair was scrapbook-material, Dip!”

“Mabel, you better throw that away!” Dipper told his sister, while Wendy just shook her head, a hand covering her eyes.

“Nope! Scrapbook-ortunity!” Mabel opened her scrapbook and, finding a spot that was (relatively) empty, put the photo in. “Boom! Now, I just need some glue! Be right back!”

Mabel ran into the house to look around, leaving her brother and friend alone and little embarrassed.

Dipper looked at his redheaded crush. “Sorry, Wendy. She didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s whatever, dork. I mean, we were kind of cutting it close. That’s what happens when you play chicken.”

“Yeah… I’m gonna destroy it before she gets back,” Dipper said, reaching out for the scrapbook.

“No, don’t!” Wendy replied, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Wendy, you know she’ll show people. What’ll our friends think? I don’t want you to get embarrassed,” the younger Mystery-Twin said to the redhead.

“Thanks, but if everyone starts laughing, we can just say we’re great actors. After all, I’d pick you over the lead in that cheesy-film any day,” Wendy reassured Dipper, a gentle smile on her face.

Not knowing what to say, the blushing twelve-year-old just awkwardly chuckled.

“Hey!” shouted a gravelly-voice from inside the house. “Can somebody help me with this pimple on my back! I don’t need it bothering me on my next tour!”

Wendy turned to look at her dork, looking a little nonplussed. “…We should probably run before Stan singles us out.”

“To the roof, you think?” Dipper asked.

“Nah, I’m starved. Let’s hit Greasy’s. There’s a great lunch-special if we hurry.”

The nigh-inseparable duo quietly rushed off, leaving the gift-shop completely unattended. With that, the two customers slowly approached the counter, awkwardly looking around.

“Well, that was adorable and weird,” the girl told the boy around her age.

The large boy shrugged. “Definitely right on the latter.” He turned to face the girl. “How has your day been progressing?”

“Uh, fine I guess?” she replied, not used to hearing a greeting in such context. “How about yours?”

“Can’t complain. So… the gift-shop’s abandoned, it looks like,” the boy said, looking around.

“I guess so. Someone could steal something from here and no one would notice.”

“True. Looks like the rumors of this place sparing every expense were true,” the boy said with a chuckle. “Are you planning on stealing something?”

“No! Of course not!” the girl replied with a huff. As the boy looked away, she discreetly took a glance at the scrapbook left behind.

“Well, that’s good. Lots of punk-teens wouldn’t think twice about robbing this place blind,” he told her.

“Fair point,” The girl replied. She reached a small hand out. “I’m May, by the way.”

The other teen answered by clasping it with a meaty-looking hand of his own. “Cool. That’s my sister’s name. I’m Danny.”

For a second, the girl called May’s eyes widened, before narrowing suspiciously. Danny suddenly realized she wasn’t letting go of his hand.

“No, it isn’t,” she replied curtly. “My brother’s Danny!”

As she said that, the other teen frowned before his eyes mirrored the girl. They stared momentarily before pouncing. May attempted to pull “Danny” toward her. Danny, however, was ready. He spun and pulled the hand still clasping his behind the girl’s back. With her momentarily caught off-guard, he pushed her into one of the aisles. He quickly snatched the scrapbook from the counter before racing out the door. May, after stopping herself from hitting a wall, turned to see no scrapbook near the register. She immediately rushed outside to find the boy.

Behind the Mystery Shack, Danny was going rummaging the somewhat sticky-pages of the book he snatched, careful not let anything besides some glitter fall out from between. Finally, his eyes settled on his objective. He was just about to take it when-

“Hey, you!” Danny turned towards an angry-looking May, her fist punching her other palm. “That’s stealing! I don’t know who you are, but I’m not letting you have that!” she shouted.

“Please!” he replied. “As if you weren’t planning on it. I’m smarter than I look, you know!” he accused the girl, who gritted her teeth at his comeback. “And for your information, I’m me! And you’re not you!”

With that, the two of them raced towards each other. This time, however, May slid between the large boy’s legs and got behind him. Before he could react, she grabbed him underneath his shoulders. With him successfully in a headlock, May reached for the book in the redheaded boy’s hand. Realizing what she was trying to do, Danny swung back-and-forth, trying to make May let go of him.

Caught off-guard, the strong girl actually lost her grip on one of his arms for a minute, though she quickly regained it by getting her arm around his neck. However, this wasn’t enough. He reached behind, and this time, he got ahold of May’s shirt, enabling him to throw her off, despite her attempts to hold onto his head. (She even grabbed and stretched his mouth in the process).

She landed with a thud but was quick to get back on her feet. And May was immediately shocked by the sight before her. Next to this guy’s feet was the scrapbook of Mabel, apparently dropped when she made him throw her off. But on the other side of “Danny” laid what looked like a rubber-mask of his face. The head on his body now sported something else: a head that she could only describe as resembling an oversized pistachio, but with red-eyes and sharp teeth.

The creature posing as a human, realizing he was exposed, quickly grabbed his mask and slipped it back on with a growl. Now indiscernible from a human, he wagged what May assumed was a false finger, clearly ticked by that. He charged at her, only for her to roll out of the way. She tried a roundhouse-kick, only for the disguised teen to catch her foot. When May tried to break out, she lost her balance, enabling Danny to catch her from behind the same way she had him.

However, May was ready this time. As this guy grabbed her underneath her shoulders, May somersaulted backwards and caught Danny’s neck with her shoes. With all of her might, she used her legs to throw Danny forward, headfirst! He landed with a loud thud, giving May time to grab the book and escape.

Danny, checking to make sure his mask was straight, raced to catch up to May. He went around the side and rushing in the general direction she ran, saw her carefully moving around a large hole not too far from the Mystery Shack. Taking off a hand-shaped glove, he launched a vine-like appendage and grabbed May’s leg, tripping her and pulling her back. At the same time, she dropped the book near the edge of the long drop. Danny rushed forward and picked it up.

Of course, by this time, May was back on her feet. She charged with all he had and slammed her shoulder into the creature’s costumed-midsection, making him drop the book again. “OW!” They both shouted after May made contact.

Danny rubbed the spot where he got rammed with one hand and pushed her back with his other. He then looked at the pained girl strangely. “That was… You tackle just like May does; only weaker. Who are-? Hey, you okay?”

“Do I look okay?” May was clutching her shoulder, and as the boy could see more plainly, it didn’t look quite right.

“You’re hurt.” Before Danny could say more, the edge of the hole he was standing by gave way. He fell and, because he was still holding onto May, ended up pulling her in, too.

They both fell, screaming all the way down, only realize that they didn’t seem to be getting there anytime soon.

“Wait… I know what this is! We’re in the Bottomless Pit!” May said in realization.

“Oh, yeah! Haven’t seen the inside of this I was five…” Danny thought out loud.

“So you say!” May snapped. “Stop pretending already and tell me what the heck you are! Running into you is like crashing into a tree-trunk! What the heck?!”

Danny paused. “Okay, seeing as you look like you’re hurting, and I’m not, I’m going to call a truce. I’m willing to talk if you are, but I’d rather check your arm first. Is that cool with you?”

“Fine,” May grumbled, seeing no options at the moment. She was at a disadvantage, and if this monster could reach her, she’d be in trouble.

“Alright. Now, stay calm and try not to freak out.” Danny took a hand-shaped glove off and from where it was, slowly extended a vine in May’s direction. It gently went around the teenager’s midriff and pulled her towards him. It was plain to see she was suspicious. “Let me see…” Using his other hand, he poked May’s shoulder.

“Augh!” she grunted.

“Yeah… Looks like you dislocated your shoulder,” Danny assessed with a shudder. “You meatbags and your weird bodies.”

“MEATBAGS?! Look who’s talking!”

“Hey, it is basically what you are. You’re like, mostly water, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah…” May admitted awkwardly. “But that’s still rude.”

“Right. Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “Look, we can’t do anything until we come back up, so we might well as chat and find what the heck is going on here; maybe why you want that scrapbook so much.”

“You took it first,” May replied. “What about you? Also, would you mind letting go of me?”

“Can do.” Danny retracted his vine, allowing May to freefall on her own, then slipped his glove back on over his branch-like hand.

“Okay, so… who the heck are you? I’ve lived in Gravity Falls all of my life; I know that names being alike isn’t some coincidence.” May said.

“Agreed. I’m Danny Pines,” said the strange-teen. “And I’m assuming you’re May Pines.”

“Yeah. May Pines: daughter of Mason and Wendy Pines,” May stated proudly.

“Those are my parents’ names,” Danny replied, an eyebrow raised.

“Weird. My brother’s human, and he doesn’t look much like whatever that costume is you’re wearing. Are you being honest that you’re who you say you are?”

“Yes, I am,” Danny replied, starting to sound annoyed. “Look, I’m a plant-person, okay? So is most of the family, along with the half-the-town where I’m from. We wear disguises to blend in with humans… And what’s wrong with the way I look?”

“Well, for starters, my Danny’s not built like you. He’s muscular, but like the lean-kind. And he’s tall. You kind of have a build like my uncles on Mom’s side of the family. Plus, your face kind of looks like Aunt Mabel’s. He’s got more of one that looks kind of like Grandpa Dan,” May said thoughtfully.

“Huh. Go figure. I never actually wondered if my disguise was accurate… As for my height, I can safely tell you I’m taller than I look. I basically slouch in this costume,” Danny told her. “And my May’s costume doesn’t have you so good, either.”

“Really? Why?” May asked.

“Well, her mask has red-hair and no freckles. And your nose definitely isn’t Mom’s.”

“Oh. I always wondered how I’d look with red hair…” May thought out loud. “Uh, so… why the heck were you trying to take that book?”

“Why do you need it?”

May sighed in resignation. “Look, I’m looking for an anniversary-present for Mom and Dad. I remember Aunt Mabel told me about some cute picture in her scrapbook that went missing. It was that little scene with Mom and Dad from a little earlier. Apparently, it disappeared. It’d be a good gift, and I thought maybe it was me taking it after Blendin Blandin loaned me his Time-Tape that caused it disappear. Now, I’m wondering if it vanishes because you steal it.”

“What a coincidence. I was planning on getting that as an anniversary present for them, too. Well, my version of Mom and Dad.”

“Yeah… How’s that work again? I’m already assuming this is probably one of those Other-Dimension/Universe deals. Or maybe even another timeline,” asked May

“Really? How would that last one work? New timelines always replace old ones, right?” Danny replied.

“I don’t know. I don’t do this for a liv-Oh! We’re coming back up!”

About a minute later, the two thirteen-year-olds found themselves back outside the Bottomless Pit, not a minute gone by since they fell in. Immediately, they stepped away, quick to attend to more important matters. Well, besides the picture in Mabel’s scrapbook, anyway. (Danny quickly picked that up).

“Alright,” Danny said after making sure no one was around. “I’m not an expert, but I’ve been taught the basics of human-skeletons. We’ve gotta fix that arm.”

“Right. Uh, one sec.” May used her good arm to pull a coin-purse out of her pocket. From there, she pulled out a piece of wood with some bite-marks and stuck it in her mouth. “Do your worst.”

Danny put one hand on her forearm; the other on her shoulder. “This is gonna hurt. I’m going to count to five. Got it?” May nodded, and Danny counted. “One… Two… Five.”

A shrill, girly scream echoed through the valley. A scream rivaled only by those who were unfortunate enough to stick an appendage into the infamous “Pain Hole”.

“You okay?” Danny asked, concerned.

“Yeah,” May grunted, rolling her shoulder a couple of times. “This actually happens more often than you think. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.

“Well, I guess that’s one thing you humans have over us,” the boy said, shaking his head. “Your broken limbs don’t have to stay broken. We need to regrow ours. It’s pretty rough.”

“I guess… So, is your time like that lizard-people timeline or something? Dad and Aunt Mabel said something like that happened or was talked about when they were hunting for treasure one time.”

“I don’t remember either of them talking about that,” Danny said, shrugging. “All I know is that my version of Mom and Dad were turned into plants outside of Gravity Falls, and that there was time-travel involved. Come to think of it, I wonder if maybe Time-Wishes have something to do with this.”

May raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

“They’re paradox-free, but what if they don’t line up with the future. And they can’t be part of a time-loop, either. That’s another paradox. But splitting timelines might make for a good technicality, especially if they lead to the same futures or something.”

“…You read a lot of science-fiction, don’t you?” May deadpanned.

Danny shrugged. “When I’m camping. Yeah.”

“So… you think maybe we come from different branches and that this is a shared-moment in the past?”

“In a nutshell. No pun intended.”

May shrugged. “Anything’s possible. So, how are things in your timeline? Is the Shack still standing?”

“Yeah. Uncle Soos is doing a great job with it.”

“Nice! Does Arctica exist in in that time? Do you like-like her?” May asked in a sly voice.

“N-No! I mean, uh, yes… and no!” Danny replied quickly.

“Oh my gosh! I knew it!” May said, almost squealing. “Everyone knows! Me, our parents, our friends! Aunt Pacifica sure approves! So does-!”

“Wait! Pacifica… She’s alive in your time?” Danny asked, looking a bit shocked.

“Yeah. Is she not…? Oh, man! What happened?” May replied, looking very concerned.

“She just got sick. Last year, I think. That kind of thing’s one drawback to being human, I guess. Still, everyone was there, so I think she was comfortable, at least,” Danny told his sister from what might be an alternate-timeline.

“Shoot…” May thought out loud.

“Sorry to bring the mood down. So, does Chaz still try to keep his distance from you and your cooties?”

“As if! He’s just intimidated by my tackle!”

“Sure… No doubt that’s why he and Drake Jr. tried to discover a vaccine for them,” Danny said with a chuckle. “Dad thinks they might be onto rediscovering the Philosopher’s Stone instead.”

“So, Aunt Mabel married Uncle Drake in your timeline, too?”

“Yep.”

“Great… Two versions of our uncle to pass on his terrible driving skills two different versions of our cousin,” May said in exasperation.

“Don’t forget our siblings…” Danny added.

“Siblings? What siblings?” May asked.

“…You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Seriously, we have them? What are they like?” May said with interest. “Younger? Older?”

“All of the above. Dang. I wish I had my special phone-glove so I could show you pics. Too bad I didn’t want to accidentally leave it.”

“Shoot! Lucky!”

Danny laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

May smiled, then looked at her aunt’s scrapbook. “That photo’s still in there.”

Danny rummaged through it and found the page with said photo. The siblings from different timelines both stared, admiring the young versions of their parents doing that corny, mock-romance scene.

“What do you wanna do?” Danny asked her.

“I don’t know… I want it, but you’ve got as much right to snatch it as I do,” May replied. “I wish we both could take it with us.”

“You know, maybe we can,” Danny said after a minute.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t the Shack have a magic photocopy-machine in this time?”

“…And Mom and Dad are gone, so we might be able to pull this off!”

Meanwhile, Mabel was in her and Dipper’s room in the attic, which had basically been torn apart in a futile-search.

“Come on, Mabel!” The sweater-loving preteen said to herself. “Where’d you put that extra glue?”

The Mystery Twins of different timelines slipped through the currently-unguarded gift-shop of the Mystery Shack with ease, only to run into an elderly, bespectacled man in a fez, faded-white tee-shirt, and boxers in the living room, who was sitting on the couch, watching tv. The man turned to face them.

“Hey!” he said gruffly. “No exploring the house unless I’m leading a tour! Back to the gift-shop with you.”

Danny approached him, a hand behind his back. “No. Back to sleep with you.” Danny brought his concealed hand out from behind him, a large flower blooming from his wooden hand. He blew what looked like pollen into the old man’s face. The man was out in an instant, drooling all over himself.

May took the tv remote and flipped through a couple of channels. When she was satisfied, she abandoned the remote and joined Danny, though not before laying a soft kiss on the scary-looking man’s temple.

“Love you, Great-Grunkle Stan,” May whispered. She turned back to rubber-suited variation of her brother. “Let’s go.”

The two kids wandered down the hall towards the back, where they found a beaten, worn-out copy machine with words like “Danger” and other warnings on and around it.

“So… if I remember correctly, Dad said this’ll clone whatever you put into it,” May said. “It’s how Great Grunkle Stan made copies of the Journals that triangle-dude ruined.”

“Right,” Danny replied. “Seems straightforward. I think I’ll make two. This way, we don’t have to steal anything.”

“Sounds good. Let’s just remember not to get either wet.” May stepped out to check the living room.

Meanwhile, a heavy-set young man in a cap and a shirt with a big question-mark stepped into the living-room. “Hey, Mr. Pines. I just finished fixing-Oh, cool! You’ve got anime on!”

Soos Ramirez sat down on the couch, his gaze focused entirely on the tv-screen. He didn’t notice the teenage-girl peering around the corner, nor the bright and completely-noticeable flash from down the hall. He also didn’t notice two teens step back into the gift-shop, the boy holding three identical-copies of what looked like Mabel’s scrapbook.

In the Mystery Shack’s gift shop, May sat the scrapbook back down on the counter where she and Danny found it.

“Alright! Are we good to go?” May asked Danny.

“I think so. I made whole scrapbooks that we can maybe use for Aunt Mabel sometime. I bet she’d like to see her old pet-project again,” Danny replied.

“Great idea. You know, if it’s not us that steal the photo, I wonder what happens to this one.”

“Beats me. But no time to find out. Someone’s bound to come back any time now.” Danny said, handing one of the copies to May.

“You’re right… Hey, I’m sorry I kind of jumped you when we ran into each other. I thought maybe I violated some time-bureau thing and you were an agent or something,” May replied with sincerity as the two of them walked out of the entrance.

“That’s alright. No harm done. I’m sorry you hurt yourself trying to hurt me,” Danny replied to the girl.

“It’s fine,” May told her… sibling. “You know, it would be cool if we could hang, but with whatever this is, I don’t see how that’s possible any time soon.”

“You’re right,” Danny agreed, almost regretfully. “I don’t know how time-travel works, and I don’t Blendin’s inclined to tell someone who got the drop on him.”

“Huh?!”

“Nothing!”

The two stared at each other, not knowing what else to say. Finally, May broke the ice: “Awkward sibling-hug?”

The Mystery Twins embraced, awkwardly patting each other’s backs before separating.

“So, before we go our separate ways, can I ask you a weird question?” Danny asked sheepishly.

“Sure. What is it?” May responded.

“What’s like having a nose? A real one, I mean…”

Meanwhile, Mabel Pines had just come back downstairs. “I can’t believe I forgot I have one in my sweater’s inner pocket. What a silly-Mabel I am!” she said to herself, chuckling.

She stood by her scrapbook on the counter and tried to work the cap to the new glue-bottle off.

At the same time, a customer, who had come into the empty gift-shop just before the girl came down, went to approach Mabel and ask about getting rung up. Unfortunately, there was a snowglobe left on the floor by some child earlier that day. The man suddenly tripped on it and fell forward, only to stop himself by catching a fan. Said fan immediately started blowing on high, blasting Mabel’s hair all over her face and blowing a certain photograph into the yard, where an odd-looking goat caught in his mouth and ate it.

That was a dark day for Mabel Pines… who immediately planned to try to convince Dipper and Wendy to reenact that scene again.

The Pines twins from alternate futures faced each other, holding out their respective Time-Tapes (with the tape pulled out appropriately) and holding tightly onto their respective scrapbooks. The two got one last look at each other.

“Bye, Danny,” May said to her secret monster of a brother. “I love you, and I hope Mom and Dad like your gift.”

“Likewise, May,” Danny said, looking a bit sad. I wish you could see the others… I’d have liked to see their reactions meeting you.”

May gave him a soft smile. “Hey, I got to meet you, at least.” Danny smiled in response.

The Mystery Twins let the tape on their devices retract. There was a flash of light, and it was like they had never been there.

#wendip #Wendy Corduroy #Dipper Pines #Gravity Falls #WenDipWeek #fanfic #time travel #submission

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birds-punch · 3 years

Text

The Three - Way Scandal

Summary: When Mickey Mouse accidentally stumbles upon his best friend, Donald Duck kissing two certain Caballeros; the mouse quickly takes it upon himself to investigate if the duck is cheating on Daisy or not.

Characters: Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Goofy, Daisy Duck, Panchito Pistoles, José Carioca, Several other Disney Characters.

Pairing: Donald x Panchito x José (Three Gay Caballeros), Donald x Daisy (past!)

Notes:

This is literally the first OT3 fanfic I’ve written in a long time and not to mention the very first time I actually written Mickey, Goofy and Minnie so I apologize if I made anyone OOC in this.

I also used Google Translate for the Spanish and Portuguese words that Panchito and José speaks in this fic, so feel free to tell me if I got anything wrong and I’ll quickly fix it.

“Hey Minnie, have you seen Donald? He wasn’t at the door earlier.” Mickey asked, getting off the stage after he introduced himself to the crowd.

Minnie looked up from her schedule, tapping her chin with her pen. “Sorry Mickey, I didn’t see him either. But Panchito and José are here tonight, why don’t you go ask them?”

Mickey’s expression lit up at the suggestion, “That’s a great idea! Thanks, Minnie!” He said giving her a wave, before walking off to find the two birds.

Surely finding two colourful looking birds would be easy right? Well apparently not, because after going through the entire theatre and checking every single table along with the foyer, (where he got the same answer from Daisy) the mouse still couldn’t find the duck. Letting out a tired sigh, Mickey went back to sit on the red couch that’s near the dressing rooms and the back entrance to the stage.

‘Where could Donald have gone off to?’ The mouse thought to himself, trying to come up with some ideas on where his best friend might’ve gone to.

As if the universe finally got tired of him trying to figure out, the sound of three muffled voices came into ears. Turning his head into the direction of the noise, Mickey found himself face to face with Donald’s dressing room door. Quickly getting off the couch, he walked over to the door about to knock when he noticed that it wasn’t even locked or closed properly, showing a gap large enough for anyone to peek through.

Despite knowing that’s incredibly rude to listening in on other people’s conversations and spying on them at the same time. Mickey couldn’t control his curiosity or his impatience from peeking through the gap, tuning his round ears towards the conversation.

The white duck fiddled with his work jacket, looking quite uneasy towards two familiar birds.

“Ooohh... I’m so nervous guys. I’m not sure if this is gonna go well for us in front of everyone.”

José immediately stepped in, a calm supportive smile on his beak, “It’ll be alright, meu patinho. Don’t forget that this not only you’ve been waiting for a há muito tempo, but also Panchito and I as well. We’ll be here by your side, up on that stage tonight.”

Panchito also stepped in, placing a hand on the duck”s shoulder. “Being nervioso for this big confession is normal, Mi Patito. But I promise everything will be alright in the end and if no one accepts us for what we have together,” the rooster then shook a fist in the air. “Iré a ellos y los haré comer mi puño!”

Mickey felt a rush of confusion go through his body. He doesn’t remember asking the Three Caballeros to perform for tonight or Minnie changing the schedule a little. They’re probably just here to visit their friend.

A smile finally forms on the mallard’s face, before wrapping his arms around the two Caballeros in a two way embrace.

“Thanks guys, I really needed that.”

“You do not need us to thank us, meu amor,” José replied, returning the hug. “Panchi and I tell you these things because we love you very much and are proud of how far you have come and how brave you are.” The parrot finished, taking Donald’s cheek into his hand.

“I love you guys too.”

Hearing those words was still as powerful as the very first time he told the pair his feelings of love a long time ago. Taking the initiative, José gently placed his beak over Donald’s before letting Panchito do the same.

Mickey’s mouth dropped open in shock at the scene that was happening right in front of his eyes. A million questions ran through his short circuited head. ‘When did this happened?!’, ‘Why didn’t Donald tell him and Goofy?’, ‘How long have they all been together?’

The mouse rubbed the back of his head, still trying to process what the Three Caballeros just did in Donald’s dressing room. He couldn’t believe that Donald had kept this secret relationship to himself for a very long time and so well that no one had even suspected that anything had changed about the white Pekin. But... if Donald didn’t tell anyone other than the fact that he either bi or gay (not saying that the mouse has anything against it.), does that mean it’s because he’s cheating on Daisy?

He immediately shook his head, trying to erase that last thought.

‘No way! Donald may cheat at anything, cheating in a relationship just isn’t like him!’ The star thought to himself furiously. A second thought then invaded his mind, ‘Then again... Whenever Donald and Daisy are together and Minnie and I go on double dates with them, he never really smiled on any of them.’

Mickey started to walk away from Donald’s dressing room towards the stage. But if that was the case, why would Donald even be cheating on her? Well, he’ll get some help trying to figure this out later. He must go and introduce the first cartoon to the guests.

“Hey Goofy!”

Said Goof looked up from the table he was serving.

“A-hyuck! Hi Mickey, what’s up?” He greeted, placing the ordered dish on the table.

The mouse looked around, before gesturing to his best friend to come down so he could whisper in his ear.

“There’s something I need your help with at the moment. It might have to do with Donald and Daisy.”

Goofy turned to look at his friend with surprise, already forgetting that he’s supposed to head back to the kitchen.

“Gawsh Mick. Is there something going on between Donald and Daisy?”

Mickey opened his mouth but then closed again, pursing his lips. Is this really a good idea? Getting Goofy involved in all this? Getting Donald to stop cheating on his girlfriend is one thing but he also doesn’t want to ruin Goofy’s friendship with the duck as well!

“Mickey, what wrong?” The dog asked, looking at how worried his best friend looked.

Drawn out of his thoughts by the waiter, Mickey looked up for several seconds then looked back at the table where Panchito and José were seated at, the two birds speaking to each other before getting off their seats and heading straight for the foyer, the parrot taking with him a glass of water. The mouse then turned back to look at his friend, still looking concerned as ever.

“Okay, Goofy I’ll tell ya. But not where everyone can see us.”

“WHAAAAAATTTTT?!!!!” Goofy’s voice echoed through the entire building.

“Shh!!” Mickey quickly shushed his best friend, looking around to see if Goofy’s outburst attracted any attention.

Goofy covered his mouth to prevent himself from yelling again.

“Are you sure, Mick? Is our pal Donald really cheating on Daisy with Panchito and José?” The black dog asked, still shocked by what his best friend told him.

Mickey scratched his chin, “Well I’m not really sure, until we get all the facts. It all might just be an inside thing they do together. But I did saw them heading for the foyer, so they be looking for Donald right now and we have to go see what they’re up to!”

With that, the two best friends quickly headed into the foyer before hiding themselves behind a pillar. There was Donald at the door greeting Pogo, Perdita and their one hundred and one children. After finishing with the last puppy, the duck wiped the sweat off his forehead in a show of exhaustion, before slowly looking up to see his fellow Caballeros coming up to see him again, a smile growing on his beak once José handed him the glass of water.

“Gawsh Mickey, I’ve never seen Donald look so happy to see someone like that before.” Goofy whispered, peeking out from behind the pillar with said mouse.

“Yeah...” the mouse couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealously at how happy the duck looked with his two fellow Caballeros. Not even he saw Donald this happy through all the past years they’ve spent together.

Panchito then said something that made Donald shook his head, smile still attached on his beak. Mickey believed he heard the duck saying he can’t take a break because he’s still quite busy tonight and that he wants to go over what he plans to say in front of the guests. José then placed a hand on the duck’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear that made the white mallard turned red before trying to cover his face, feigning annoyance as his two best friends (unknowingly) watched in surprise.

Before Mickey and Goofy could even try to process Donald’s extremely flushed face, Panchito then gently grabbed the duck’s head, pressing a soft kiss on the top of the duck’s beak before allowing the Brazilian Parrot have his share of kisses with the duck.

Goofy’s eyes bugged out and his mouth went slack jawed at the sight. He couldn’t believe his eyes! Panchito and José are smooching their best friend Donald and he seems to be enjoying it.

“I-It really is true... Our pal Donald is a cheating heart...” The dog muttered, still watching the three birds shower each other with loving affection.

“Yeah I... I guess there’s no point denying it anymore.” Mickey sighed, sounding quite sad that there’s a chance both his and Goofy’s friendship with Donald is ruined.

“What are we gonna do, Mick? Donald can’t keep cheating on Daisy like this!” Goofy whispered.

The mouse rubbed his chin in thought. “I’m not sure Goofy, but I remember the three of them discussing something about announcing to the guests up on stage tonight. Maybe if I can stop Donald and the other Caballeros from getting up on the stage, we might just be able to get this all sorted out.”

“Okay, but how’s that gonna work?”

“First; you go find Daisy while I’ll stall for time and once she’s here; Donald, Panchito and José will have to explain themselves to her, making them run out of time to get on stage and announce what they’re gonna say.”

Goofy saluted, “Got it Mick!” He than ran off to go find Daisy, leaving Mickey to continue watching the three birds talk to each other a little longer before making their way to the backstage, unaware of the spying mouse.

Donald wheezed from nervousness, going through some breathing exercises with Panchito and José, the two of them gently holding his shoulders.

“That’s it, Donal’. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out.” José spoke softly, helping the white duck.

The rooster gently shushed in his ear, “It’s alright, mi Patito. We’re right here besides you and we’ll be together on that stage.” He then nuzzled the duck’s head feathers in a comforting manner.

A tiny smile grew on the duck’s beak, from his lovers’ support and the slow nuzzling on his head. The smile slowly changed to a determined expression as confidence slowly began to surge within in, his chest starting to puff out.

“Alright, I can do this! Panchito, José, come on! Let’s get on that stage!!” The duck spoke with much spirit and energy, immediately marching for the stage in a straight line. The two Latin birds shared a look of surprise before breaking into a small run to keep up with the confident Pekin.

“Pato, wait!” José called out, stopping just behind Donald who was an inch near the curtain. “Shouldn’t we wait for senhor Mickey first?”

“Aw, phooey!” Donald scoffed. “We don’t have time to wait for Mickey to introduce us, I’ll do it myself!”

“Whatever you say, mi amigo.” Panchito shrugged, unable to stop a proud smile from growing on his beak at how brave and confident his American boyfriend is.

“Donald, wait!” Mickey panted, stopping just front of the three birds as he tries to catch his breath.

The three birds watched the exhausted mouse with bemusement before the white duck turned back towards the curtain, not listening to his best friend due to being too focused on his current goal.

“Sorry Mickey, but We gotta go up on stage now.” The duck then hooked arms with Panchito and José, all three of them heading onto the stage as Mickey watches helplessly.

Upon seeing the crowd of Disney Characters sitting at the tables with all eyes on them, the duck chuckled nervously as he pulls his shirt collar. The two Latin birds gave their American lover’s arms a supportive squeeze, still holding onto to him. Letting himself take a very deep breath, he managed to regain the strength to speak.

“H-Hi everybody. Unfortunately we’re not here to perform tonight,” Several disappointed groans echoed through the auditorium, the crowd obviously wanted to watch the trio sing, like the previous times they were here at the house. “But we got something incredibly important to tell all of you.” Unhooking his arms, Donald took his two lovers’ hands in his’. Here we go, it’s the moment of truth.

“Panchito, José and I. We’re a-“

“Donald, stop! You can’t do this!!” A certain mouse exclaimed, quickly running up on the stage.

The American Pekin looked incredibly outraged, temper rapidly starting to rise. “WHAT?! WHY NOT?!”

Panchito and José quickly took hold off the angry duck’s arms to stop him from beating up the mouse, but they each still looked just as vexed as their boyfriend.

“Isn’t it obvious, Donald?” Mickey asked, trying his best to keep his cool and guard in case the duck goes after him.

“NO MICKEY, IT’S NOT IF YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT IN THE NAME OF DISNEY YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!” The duck responded, struggling to put up his fists.

“STOP CHEATING ON DAISY, DONALD!” Mickey finally yelled.

Every guest in the auditorium gasped in shock from what their favourite mouse just yelled at the duck. Whispers started to fly around the tables between each Disney Character, everyone wanted to know what’s going on.

Donald’s expression turn from anger to utter confusion, loosing the adrenaline from wanting to punch the mouse as Panchito and José looked at each other, just as equally confused.

“Say that again, Mick?” The white mallard said, having trouble trying to process what he was just accused of.

Mickey’s expression also melted in bemusement. “Stop cheating on Daisy, Donald...” he repeated, also sounding confused.

“What’s going on here, boys?” Said female duck asked, walking onto the stage with Goofy and Minnie following behind.

Every single eye in the building landed on Daisy, as Donald facepalmed himself, silently asking himself why is this happening to him.

Thankfully José spoke up for him, “Nossas desculpas senhorita Daisy. It seems our amigo, senhor Mickey is accusing our Patinho of cheating on you.”

Daisy’s eyes widen slightly, looking at Mickey then at Donald and the two birds before sighing to herself, shaking her head. “Mickey, you’ve got it all wrong. Donald isn’t cheating on me; we broke up a long time ago.”

Another loud gasp went through the audience who were watching everything that unfolded right in front of their eyes. Mickey open and closed his mouth, unable to find the words to say when Donald chimed in, fiddling with the rim of his uniform jacket.

“Mickey, I broke up with Daisy so I wouldn’t cheat on her with the two guys before I started dating them. She knew the whole time because I had to tell her I love Panchito and José, I didn’t want to lie to her.”

The mouse took a while to process what the two duck’s just told him. Another question however, was on his mind. “But if you told Daisy a long time ago, why didn’t you tell me or Goofy until now?”

Donald slumped slightly, still fiddling with his jacket. “Because it wasn’t safe for all three of us at the time.”

Everyone in the audience immediately went quiet as they watched, Panchito and José gently placed their hand on the duck’s shoulder with sadness in their usually bright and energetic eyes.

A sigh passed the duck’s beak. “When all three of us started dating two years after our movie came out in 1945, we couldn’t have an open relationship because of society at that time and aside from Daisy and my three nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie. no one would’ve understand what we have together. So all three of us with Daisy’s help, kept it a secret from everyone else.” Donald then let out a short laugh, “We’ve almost been caught a few times before, but somehow we still kept it under wraps.”

Shortly after the white mallard spoke his word, Panchito quickly took over.

“But you see Señor Mickey, now that sociedad has become more open minded and free, the Three Caballeros talked about finally coming out and we all agreed to tell everyone tonight at the House of Mouse.”

José then noticed that Mickey looked rather downcast, covering his face with his hands.

“Você está bem, Mickey?” The parrot asked just after Donald and Panchito noticed that something was wrong with the host.

“No.” The mouse replied, lifting his head up to look at his best friend, “I’m so sorry Donald. I should’ve asked you what’s going on between you and the other Caballeros instead of just assuming you’re cheating on Daisy and ruining your confession to everyone.” Mickey then turned to look at Goofy, “I’m really sorry I got you involved in this too, Goofy.”

The waiter simply brushed it off, “Aww, Mick. It’s fine. You were worried for both Donald and Daisy, I was too.”

Donald placed a hand on Mickey’s shoulder. “Well, the whole coming out wasn’t really how me and the boys expected it and I was pretty mad when you tried to stop us, but in the end we managed to do it and it seems everyone here, is okay with it too.”

As if on cue, everyone in the crowd started clapping and cheering as a show of support as Mickey pulled his best friend in a hug, saying his own words of support.

“What a night this turned out to be, huh?” Donald asked his best friend before saying a goodbye to Winnie the Pooh and Piglet.

“Ha ha, it sure has.” Mickey’s smile weaken a little. “I still can’t believe how much of a jerk and an idiot, I acted towards you and your boyfriends though.”

Donald sighed, “Mickey I already told you, it’s alright. It was kind of my fault as well since I didn’t tell before the show started.”

“You wanted it to be a surprise and I kind of ruined it.” The mouse rubbed the back of his head. “But it still turned into a surprise somewhat.” He remarked, laughing a little.

“Yeah, did you see the look on everyone’s faces when you accuse me of going behind Daisy’s back? That was priceless!”

The two best friends fell into a small fit of laughter when José rushed back inside the club, just stopping at their feet.

“Meu bem, it’s an emergência!” The green parrot said in between pants.

Donald quickly rushed to his Brazilian lover’s side. “What’s wrong, Joe? Are you hurt?!”

José shook his head, smoothing out his cream coloured jacket. “Não it’s not me. Do you remember, what you Americans called him...uh what’s the termo?” He snapped his fingers, trying to think. “Ah! That air headed dog called Gaston? He just said some really palavras horríveis about the three of us and Panchito just challenged him to a gunfight!”

The duck wakked in shock before grabbing a chair and running outside. “Panchito! Hang on, I’m coming!” He then ran off onto the street.

“Donal’ wait, you’re going the wrong direção!” The Parrot turned to the mouse and shook his hand in a way that would’ve made the rooster proud. “Sinto muito Mickey, but I must go and help my namorados now. Obrigado pelo seu gentil apoio, despedida!”

With that, José ran into the direction of the duck, swinging his black umbrella around like a sword as Mickey watched on from the inside of the House of Mouse.

#house of mouse #the three caballeros #three gay caballeros #panchito pistoles #jose carioca #donald duck #Mickey Mouse #goofy #minnie mouse #daisy duck #Disney #fanfiction

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

Top 5 Characters in ANF Who Would’ve Made Better Love Interests Than Kate

There are a lot of mixed opinions on TWDG: A New Frontier. Some people like it, some don’t, and some people hate it so much that they refuse to accept as canon in the series. Extreme? Yeah, but hey, to each their own.

One thing that always bothers me when I do my replay of the series and this game is how much Kate is forced on us and even kinda punishes us for not romancing her. Like, no offense, but I’m not really interested in dating my sister-in-law, especially when her husband is actually alive, and even if she wasn’t my brother’s wife, she’s still not a character I have chemistry with, y’know?

And every time I play, I can’t help but think that almost anyone else in ANF would’ve been a better romantic interest for Javi over Kate, so I decided to make that the list for this week.

I would’ve loved more choices and for the game to actually show Javi’s canon bisexuality outside of a flirty line with Jesus that most players didn’t even pick. Just sayin’.

I do want to note that if you enjoy the romance with Kate and the relationship between her and Javi, that’s totally cool. Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean you can’t ship them, y’know? I’m not here to try to change your mind or tell you you’re bad for shipping something I don’t because I’m not a dingus. You do what makes you happy, friend. :)

Besides, going off the stats, a majority of players romanced her so if anything, I’m the weirdo. This list is just for fun!

Before we start, just wanna say a big thank you to @pi-creates for helping out with this one! Really appreciate it! Now, here are my top 5 characters who, in my opinion, would’ve made better love interests for Javier than Kate.

5. Jane if the writers didn’t turn her into a dead potato

Oh man, you should see your face right now.

Wait, wait, stop! Before you click outta here in a huff with your “Kenny good Jane bad” grunts and come yell at me, just hear me out-- this entry is mostly a joke and the other four on this list are serious, okay?

I needed someone to put at #5 and after talking over some options and going back and forth.... Jane came up as a joke and then kind of made the list. Because really, I thought about it. I was like, “Would I really rather have dingdong “whatever happens stay out of it” potato face Jane as a love interest over Kate? Do I dislike Kate as an option that much?” and Pi and I talked about this for a while and yeah.... yeah I would actually.

When I said anyone but Kate, I guess I really meant anyone.

Trust me, I know, I’m just as surprised. I guess this really says a lot about my feelings for Kate. I didn’t know I disliked her this much either.

But for fun, let’s entertain this idea of the writers NOT pulling the ol’ character assassination on Jane and she made it to Richmond with Clementine and AJ because--

Jane: "One time I ate glass because I was drunk and thought it was sugar."

Javier: "I gambled on my own baseball matches and disgraced myself for money."

Jane: “Well, I dragged my little sister around with me after everything went to shit until I finally gave her what she wanted and left her to die.”

Javier: “I wasn’t there when my dad was fighting cancer and when I finally showed up, I was too late and he was already dead, then he turned and I bashed his skull in with a piece of wood.”

Jane: “I shot a dude’s dick off once.”

Javier: “Oof. I insulted an old lady’s cake and then shot her eye out.”

Jane: “I screwed a guy when I was supposed to be securing a place for some lady to have her baby and it resulted in the death of a teenage girl.”

Javier: “I screwed my brother’s wife.”

Jane: “...”

Javier: “In my defense, I thought he was dead.”

Jane: “That’s fair.”

Clementine, exasperated and emo: “Oh my god.”

....I mean... we might be onto something here, c’mon--

Okay, now onto the more legit entries.

4. Conrad

Now listen... I know, okay? I know. I know this one can be seen as a bit problematic considering the fact that Conrad, in his grief and anger over Francine’s death, held a gun to Gabe’s head and threatened Javi and Clementine.... plus Javi can literally murder him.

...and if you don’t do anything, Conrad with murder both Gabe and Javi and you’ll get a “YOU ARE DEAD” screen...

But we don’t talk about that because it’s not canon.

I know, but listen... I’m allowed to have ships that are difficult, as are you, and this is my list so... there.

If Conrad was a love interest that’s the route I’d take because I love him and I think a relationship between him and Javi could’ve been so damn good if properly done.

I just find Conrad to be an interesting character with a great arc that you only get to see if you don’t shoot him... which is what most people did, so they missed out. And like, I get it, I get why y’all shot him but maybe next time you play, you could consider not doing that?

So here’s the thing, Javi and Conrad share something-- they both lost loved ones because of shithead Badger. Javi is heartbroken after Mariana’s death, Conrad is devastated after Francine’s death, and they both handle that in different ways. Conrad becomes so focused on revenge and getting into Richmond, that he’s willing to threaten two kids in order to get what he wants but the thing is... that’s not him.

He even says so himself when you keep him alive-- he genuinely apologizes for what happened and will end up coming back to save Javi’s life in ep4. The potential for this to work as a relationship? It’s there... the only problem is that my confidence in the writers handling something like this is low, but let’s pretend they used their time and brains wisely-- ya got yourself a classic slow-burn friends to enemies to friends again to lovers romance and I’m here for it.

3. Paul “Jesus” Monroe

A lot of people really like the idea of Javi and Jesus and wanted him to be a romantic option, and I don’t blame them. They have chemistry in the scenes they share, and Javi can straight up flirt with him at the end of the season, and it’s super cute... of course, I wish we had more but Telltale was too scared to actually show Javi’s bisexuality outside of that one line, I guess.

But, anyway, this ship has a lot of sweet fanart that we love to see.

The only real reason he isn’t higher on the list is that Jesus is apparently already in a relationship at this point? I guess? From what I’ve been told? Listen, I don’t read the comics, I don’t watch the show, I just go off what y’all tell me. Plus, I believe Kent joked about Jesus having someone in each community during the commentaries so like... that’s a thing?

But let’s pretend that we throw that all out and Jesus is single and ready to be in a committed relationship with our boy Javier here. Like I mentioned above, these characters have a believable chemistry from the moment they meet and I think that has a lot to do with how charming they are by themselves. Those different charms work well together.

I also enjoy how much of a badass Jesus is when it comes to fighting off walkers. Javi has a lot of force that you feel with each hit, while Jesus almost has a lighter but just as impactful hit? I dunno if I’m explaining that well-- basically, Javi strong but Jesus can bounce off walls and do cool shit with weapons that feels effortless.

It’s a combo of fighting styles that I love, so these two fighting together? *chef kiss*

There’s also Jesus’ morality and how he wants to see Javier make “good” decisions, y’know? Sure, he gets pissy if you murder the shit outta Badger, which is mostly just Telltale showing you consequences, but I get it. He sees a lot of potential in Javi, more than Javi himself sees. And unlike certain characters, Jesus doesn’t completely hate you for doing something he doesn’t agree with to a frustrating degree.

If the game gave us the option to pursue Jesus as a love interest, he and Javier would’ve been such a badass couple with a sweet romance.

2. Eleanor

This one might come as a surprise to those of you who know my feelings about Eleanor... as in, I don’t like her. I never forgave her for the shit she pulled in ep4/ep5, and now every time I replay ANF and she shows up? Well, all I really hear is the hissing of a snake.

But, putting those feelings aside and looking at her from a different perspective, I do believe that she would’ve made for a better love interest than Kate assuming that if you romanced her, she wouldn’t rat everyone out to Joan, y’know?

Hell, most people believed that Eleanor was going to be the second option with Kate back when the episodes were coming out, and for good reason. The chemistry is there in the flirting, and their relationship could’ve been super cute.

Of course, Eleanor being a love interest also comes with things becoming awkward with Tripp, but c’mon-- as awkward as pursuing a relationship with your sister-in-law and never telling your brother after finding out he’s alive? Nah, I don’t think so.

Plus, for the first three episodes, Eleanor’s not a bad character. In fact, she’s pretty damn likable, she deeply cares for the group and wants to use her medical skills for good.

And you can tell through the dialogue that she and Javi are fond of one another... well, I guess until they shove the Kate thing in our faces and suddenly Eleanor’s like “oh, I thought you two were a thing??” like... Eleanor, we were flirting and I totally rejected all of Kate’s advances last episode I mean??

If she were a love interest, instead of turning on us, she would... y’know, not do that and instead help us out. We have a couple cute moments like back in ep1 where she’s patching Javi up but this time with a smooch? Super cute.

1. Tripp

Okay but seriously, why wasn’t Tripp a love interest?

He’s the perfect option. I just-- uuuughhhhh.

They already have a great believable bromance, so why not take it a step further and make it an official romance? Oh wait, that’s right, ya gotta kill off 95% of your determinant characters, I forgot. Sorry Tripp.

Well, fuck that. Out of all the other adult characters, Javi has the most chemistry with this man. I believe them more than I believe him and Kate. Sure, they got off to a rocky start the progression of their relationship felt natural with every episode.

That scene where Tripp is confiding in Javi about his feelings for Eleanor? And in turn, Javi can confide in him about Kate? One of my favorite scenes. I only wish there was an option to tell Tripp he can do much better and set the path for the romance.

Seriously, I’d probably feel more okay about the romance with Kate if Tripp were the second option. That way, Kate wouldn’t be so forced onto the player, the writers confirming Javi’s bisexuality on Twitter or whatever wouldn’t feel like they were trying to earn points without actually showing representation, and we would’ve gotten the beauty that is Javier and Tripp.

Also, then Tripp could make it to the end without dying that dumb death of his that no one likes.

And if I haven’t convinced you yet, then look at these swaps Pi did--

--and tell me they aren’t fucking perfect?? You can’t, because look at them.

Where’s my Tripp route, Telltale??

---

Honorable Mentions

-If I wasn’t sticking to just ANF characters, Luke probably would’ve made the list because that’s apparently a popular combo and I dig it. -Pudding... because Javi fucking loves pudding. -Honestly Max probably would’ve been a better love interest than Kate oof--

---

So, whattya think? Do you agree with this top 5 or nah? Do you have a favorite Javi ship? Let me know, I’d love to hear from you. :D

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Times Lee was the Absolute Best

#twdg t5f #twdg javi #twdg javier #twdg kate #twdg gabe #twdg mariana #twdg clementine #twdg tripp #twdg conrad #twdg eleanor #twdg jane #twdg kenny #twdg jesus

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babbushka · 3 years

Note

Hi Z! 💙 Happy Hanukkah! Hope you have a lovely first night of Hanukkah✨ this scenario of a big ol’ Hanukkah party with Mob!Kylo and family filled with competitive dreidel playing, moments away from the party for soft moments and eating some sufganiyot with sugar filled kisses. I can’t wait to see what you come up with, I’m not Jewish but through your blog and fics, I have learned so much about Jewish culture and traditions. 💙

(1k, fluff & a lot of kissing!)

Kylo’s standing in the kitchen, arms crossed and facing the window that overlooks the city below, when you find him. He’s staring down at the snow covered buildings, seeing the glow from candles in apartment windows, menorahs burning steadily. In his own penthouse, a grand party has been thrown for your family and friends. He can hear the sounds of dreidel playing and singing and laughter coming from the rest of the apartment, but here in the dark of the kitchen, Kylo is able to take a couple of steadying breaths.

It’s the first Hanukkah since he murdered his sister, and the holiday had turned out to be tense because of it. No one in the family knew concretely that he was responsible, of course, but that didn’t stop his mother from accusing him six ways til’ Sunday.

“I was wondering where you had slipped away to.” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts just at the perfect time, your arms sliding around his thick waist to hug him from behind.

If there was one thing Kylo could always count on to make him feel better, it was you.

He lifts one of his arms and you duck underneath it, pressing yourself up against his side as that arm snugly fits over your shoulder. You’re so pretty, he always thinks. With your beautiful face and kind eyes and well fitting clothes. You always looked so put together, and by comparison he sometimes feels like he’s falling apart. Maybe that’s dramatic, but the holidays always bring out the drama in people, don’t they?

“Just needed a minute, that’s all.” He says after a few moments of companionable silence together, and you hum in understanding.

“You can go upstairs for the evening if you want. I’ll make an excuse for you.” Resting your head on his chest, your hand reaches across your chest to hold his where it’s hanging off your shoulder. You too look down at the streets below, watching the snow flurries fall.

“No.” Kylo replies quickly, his voice deep and sure when he says adamantly, “No, I want to be where you are.”

“I can call the party off, then. Kick everyone out so it’s just the two of us.” You offer, knowing how little he liked things like this, and not wanting to push his comfort zone too far. If the guests were overstaying their welcome, you wouldn’t hesitate to show them the door.

He knows this, and he gives you a very small smile there in the dark, leans down to kiss the top of your head.

“It’s okay, really.” He pulls you both away from the window with a sigh, “It’s nice seeing everyone…just…”

“I know.” You move with him, “I’m glad she didn’t show.”

“Me too.” He brings you to the kitchen island, and you hop up onto it so that you’re both eye-level. Kylo sees the big glass cloche filled with sufganiyot and lifts the dome up, “Split a donut with me?”

“Yes please.” Your face brightens up considerably at the thought of sweets.

You pluck one from the pile, fresh and still warm. Ripping it into two, you give him the larger of the two pieces and his chest warms with how you always do that, always giving him the better of the two halves. Ironic, he thinks, when you’re the better half by far.

Eating your halves in relative silence, save for some humming and chuckling, Kylo dives in for a kiss before he even knows he’s doing it. He loves you so much, wants to be close to you always. His lips are sticky with powdered sugar and jam, but so are yours, and the smacking smooching sounds that it makes only make you smile wider.

Your arms sling around his shoulders, eyes slipping closed as Kylo deepens the kiss. He nibbles and suckles at your lips until they’re bitten and swollen, and then he kisses you some more. You sigh against his mouth happily, content to be here with him while the party goes on outside.

Adjusting your positions slightly, Kylo steps between your legs to get closer to you, wanting to hold you. His nose bumps against yours as he gulps down air, breathing into your mouth and you breathing into his, until the both of you are dizzy and smiling and tingling all over.

You rest your forehead against his, lips ghosting over his, feeling so warm and so in love with him in this picture perfect, atmospheric little scene you’ve built together. Just the two of you in the kitchen, the falling snow illuminating the candles by the window. He kisses you again and again, unhurried and slow, carefully. He savors you, every moment that he can get with you is a moment that he considers miraculous, and what better way to celebrate Hanukkah than by celebrating a miracle of his own?

Soft little moans and sighs pour out of your throat and into Kylo’s chest, and he has to force himself to step away just a fraction of an inch, otherwise he might carry you upstairs and whisk you away from the party altogether.

“I like these, we should get them tomorrow.” Kylo says, voice deep and low, almost inaudible. You steal his breath away, just the nearness of you, and he has to clear his throat to get the words out.

“They might be sold out, I know they were doing pre-orders only because of the holiday.” You whisper, remembering how busy the bakery down the street had said they were when the donuts had been delivered only an hour or two ago.

“I’ll make a couple calls.” Kylo says with a small wave of his hand, and you can’t help but grin.

“Big shot.” You tease, kissing him chastely once more.

“I am the boss.” He smiles against your lips, and you have to bite back a laugh at that, at the notion that he was really in charge.

“Sure honey, whatever you say.” You bite at his lower lip playfully, eyes closing once again as Kylo shakes his head and kisses you deeper, the taste of your love on your tongue absolutely irresistible to him, “Whatever you say.”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #mob au #mob!kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fluff #Anonymous #cowboy answers

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nicb0723 · 4 years

Text

Find Your Worth

John Wick x Reader

Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.

A/N: Marcus is alive

Word Count: 12,357

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The next shift you work Officer Saunders stops in and introduces himself as Jimmy. He’s the same officer friend John did the favor for that fateful day and he’s also the officer who helped you get Max put away. What are the odds?

“He hasn’t come around or anything, right?”

You’re stocking the medicine section and squating on the floor, so you have to keep looking up as Jimmy keeps asking you questions. “No, sir. I haven’t heard anything from him. I actually heard he’s in rehab, so that’s good?”

“You hear that from John?”

“Yep. Don’t ask me how he found out.”

Jimmy smirks and adjusts his police cap on his head. “John knows a lot about everything it seems.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s kind of annoying.”

He laughs and helps you up when you’re finished with the last box. “I can see why John likes you, you tell it like it is.”

Smiling, you walk behind the counter to start on the schedule for next week. “Yeah? I probably annoy him too then.”

“Hmm, not the way he tells it. I’ve never seen him--” Jimmy gets cut off when his radio beeps loudly and he has to go. Before he leaves he tells you to give him a call if anything comes up, and you wonder what he was going to say.

A few days later John wants to take you out to celebrate your promotion, but you tell him that the movie and sushi were plenty, but thank you anyway. He goes silent until he shows up at the gas station a few hours later.

“Hey!” You greet him with a warm smile. You secretly love it when he surprises you at work. “What’re you doing here?” John is wearing a suit again and you instinctively reach to his forehead where there’s a cut and bruise forming. “What happened? Are you okay?”

He grabs your hand before you can touch his sensitive skin. “I’m fine, just work.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized he had a job since you saw him last. He kept texting you every day like usual and didn’t mention it. For some reason it hurts your feelings, that he would keep something from you. “You didn’t tell me you were working.”

“It was quick. Didn’t even have to leave town. In and out.”

“Oh.” You don’t really know what to say. “Okay.”

He’s still holding on to your hand and he’s just looking at you with a small grin.

“What’s that look for?”

“I mean, maybe my face does hurt a little.”

“Really?” You’re instantly concerned. “You want me to look at it? Do you want some aspirin or something?”

Slowly, he shakes his head, looking at you intently. “I think we know what the best remedy is for a bruise. How’s your foot?”

You realize that he wants a kiss and push him gently away. “John, stop. I was seriously worried.”

He laughs at your innocence and bows his head for forgiveness, but he’s still smiling.

“Is that all you came here for?” You ask, bored of his antics but really it’s all just an act. You still get the butterflies.

“Well, no, Miss Assistant Manager, I really do want to take you out to celebrate.”

You sigh loudly. “I thought we already talked about this.”

“No, you talked about it.” John follows you up to the counter when the bell dings, signaling a customer came in. You quickly ring the couple up and they’re on their way back to a van full of screaming kids. John keeps himself busy looking at the magazine rack until you’re done.

“I have a feeling you won’t take no for an answer?”

He gives you the most pitiful expression, making you feel guilty. “If you want me to be sad, I’ll take the no.”

“Fine, John. But I have to work the next few days and I don’t really feel like going out.”

“I can cook. Just come over after your shift tomorrow.”

You give him a doubtful look. “You’ll cook or order take out?”

“I can cook… do you like grilled cheese?”

Laughing, you lean against the counter and smile. “Actually, that sounds good. Want me to bring anything?”

“Nope. I got this.” He tells you confidently. His phone beeps and he briefly looks at it. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I might be tired and grumpy after my shift, just warning you.”

He’s looking at you like he wants to do something, maybe give you a hug or tuck your hair behind your ear. He doesn’t though and starts to step towards the door. “I like a good challenge. You remember where I live?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Text me when you get home tonight.”

“Okay.” You never do and that just makes him frustrated until he texts you first, about thirty minutes after he knows your shift is over. He’s done it every night since going to the movie. You know he still has the motion detectors cameras on his phone so instead, you just wave at the cameras.

Still though, it makes you feel special.

You end up bringing some homemade cookies you had time to bake since you didn’t have to be at work until eleven this morning. You got off at seven and the day had dragged on. Around seven thirty you get to John’s house, lit up and inviting.

When you walk in you can’t mistake the smell of scented candles in the air. You try to hide a smile when you see John in the kitchen and he has on an apron, busy with whatever he’s making. He doesn't hear you until the dog makes a scene and demands your attention, wagging his tail and almost knocking you over.

You gladly give it to him after putting the cookies on the counter and kneel on the floor, petting him and giving smooches.

“Pooch! Off!”

The dog immediately obeys and runs towards John.

“Can’t a girl get some love around here?” You ask, setting your purse down. You wore your tight jeans and took off your sweater in the car, leaving you in a black tank top. Usually you don’t show this much skin, but it’s hot out today and the air is broken at work.

John is good about not staring for too long, but he definitely notices. “No. I’m jealous.”

You walk towards him and open your arms for a hug. It’s the least you can do. “Hi. Thank you for making me dinner.”

His smile is worth the slightly awkward hug, which you have to stand on your tiptoes for. His hands are careful on your back, like you’re made of glass.

“How was your day?” He asks, pulling out a stool for you to sit and keep him company.

“Long. Boring. I’m only slightly grumpy and tired.”

He grabs some white wine. “I think I can help with that. Or would you rather something else?”

“No, that’s perfect. Thank you. How was your day?” You don’t drink much wine, never really being able to afford it, but you can tell this bottle is expensive. It’s smooth and crisp, and it does make you relax.

“A little busy, actually. I have to go out of town next week for work.”

“Oh really?” You’re glad he’s telling you about a job this time. You don’t think a lot of people get to know about John Wick’s life and you like that he includes you in it. “Where are you going? Or maybe you can’t tell me?”

He’s focused on chopping lettuce. “California, probably San Francisco but the target might move.”

“Do you get to have any fun after you’re… done? Like, explore the city or anything?”

John shrugs and moves on to slice a tomato. “It’s not really a vacation. And I’d like to get home.”

“You probably want to rest, right?” You don’t mention that he might have to heal too, from the looks of quick jobs John has had, you can’t imagine how he’d come home after a job that lasts a few days. The bruise on his forehead has faded a little, and the cut is small but deep.

“Yeah. And lately I have things to look forward to now.” He glances to Pooch and then to you.

You’re getting really good at dodging his comments. “Do you want me to watch him while you’re gone? I’d be happy to.”

“I already promised Cassey, but thanks for offering.”

“Okay, just know the offer is always there.” You’re only a little disappointed. You like being able to help John out, especially after everything he’s done for you.

He smiles brightly and grabs a plate of steaks you hadn’t seen, but you were wondering what that great smell lingering in the kitchen was. “Are you hungry?”

“No grilled cheese?”

“I was joking, I can at least grill some meat for you.”

You clutch your heart and head over to the table, first grabbing the bowl of vegetables he was slicing up. “My prince charming.”

He laughs and gets the glasses of wine he had poured. This is perfect. It’s not fancy, but it’s really nice and you can tell he put in some effort. Both of you slide into chairs and he picks up his glass to clink it with yours. “Congratulations on your promotion. You deserve it.”

You blush and smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all of this. We should have just gone out.”

“Nonsense.” He says and starts in on his salad. “I agree with you, this is better than sitting in a restaurant.”

You take a bite of your steak and moan. “This is so good. I can’t remember the last time someone cooked for me. I ate out all the time when grandma was in the hospital. This is a great treat.”

He puts his fork down and only hesitates a little, meaning another comment is about to come. “You know if you lived here, we could do this all the time.”

Avoid and deflect, your new strategy. “So, San Francisco, huh? Have you ever been there before?”

He just shakes his head as usual at the way you change the subject. It seems you both are catching on to each other. “A few times. The food there is good. I don’t really leave the hotel much besides for work.”

“Do you ever get nervous, like before doing… whatever it is you’ll do?”

He takes a sip of wine. “Not anymore. I used to though. But now I do research, prepare, and survey first so I know what I’m walking into.”

You’re very intrigued. This is all so interesting. “How did you get started? I mean… was this what you wanted to do?” That would be really weird if John did choose this life. Choose to kill people. You don’t know if you can still hang out with him if he says yes.

“No, no… not at all. It’s actually a really long story. So is how I tried to get out.”

You look at him thoughtfully. “Sucks being good at something that you hate, hmm?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Okay, just one more question and I’m done.”

John smiles and tells you to go ahead.

“Is it a natural talent or did you have to train?”

“Both. I went to an assassin school. In Russia.” He shifts in his chair, and you can tell he’s wondering if he’s telling you too much. “And Italy.”

Your eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what you could call it.”

Wow. You had no idea something like that would even exist. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

He laughs softly. “I wish it was just a movie sometimes.”

“Well, if it were a movie you wouldn’t be sitting here with me eating this delicious steak.”

“That’s true. Are you sure it’s good?”

“Mmm.” You say with your mouth full and after you swallow, “Positive.”

Both of you continue to eat and when you’re almost done John asks, “Did I see some cookies on the counter?”

You nod and tell him not to judge. “I haven’t baked in a long time.”

“No judgement,” John agrees. “Do you think you can stay awhile and we can watch a movie or something?”

“Yeah, I don’t have to be at work until late afternoon.” You stand to help clear the dishes. When John starts to protest you tell him to stop it and you’re helping.

The kitchen gets cleaned up fast and both of you fall on to the couch easily. You both had busy days and both of you are tired, so the TV is low and something is on, but you’re not really paying attention. After John gets up to let the dog out and grab some cookies, he sits closer to you.

You side eye him suspiciously, but he just breaks a cookie in half and offers it to you.

“Hey! Not bad,” You’re impressed with yourself yet again.

“I would pay you to make these for me.” John says seriously.

You elbow him in the side. “Just tell me when you want a batch and you got it.”

“Score.” He quietly celebrates a victory which makes you giggle.

Before you know it, he’s covering you up with a blanket and turning the TV off. You must’ve fallen asleep because you’re completely stretched out on the couch and it’s incredibly comfortable.

You don’t want to get up but instead you yawn and mumble, “I should go home.”

John kneels down beside the couch and you can feel a fingertip brush the hair out of your face. “It’s too late for you to drive.” He whispers softly. “You want to sleep in the bed? I can sleep down here.”

You don’t open your eyes and hope that he keeps touching you. “No, this is so good.” You tell him sleepily. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I can leave. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“Don’t apologize.” His voice is still soft, and so is the touch of his thumb against your cheek. “Of course I don’t mind. Just come upstairs if you get uncomfortable, okay?”

“Mm’kay.” You wait for him to gather the dog and turn off all the lights except one in the kitchen before he goes upstairs. Then you hear the sounds of the water running as he washes up and footsteps towards his bed. You weren’t lying, the couch is very comfortable but your jeans are not and you wiggle out of them, leaving you in boyshorts underwear and thin tank top. You slide out of your bra too, and toss your clothes in a pile on the floor. You figure you’ll sleep for a few more hours and then head home, before John will see you in the morning.

You sleep hard for a while and the sound of whining startles you awake. Pooch is crying, his snout practically in your face and you sit up, trying to figure out where the hell you are. You eventually recognize the living room and assume he has to go outside, so you tip toe towards the sliding glass door and open it for him. He doesn’t go out and cries some more, staring at you and walking in between your legs, bumping at your knees.

“What do you want? Food? Money?” You whisper and he starts up the steps towards upstairs, turning around to look at you again. He’s waiting for you to follow him? And then you hear a bang, like something heavy fell on the floor above. You hear John grunt and it doesn’t sound good at all.

Rushing past the dog, you run up the stairs as fast as you can without falling. There’s hardly any light but you can make out shapes of furniture as you start to wake up. “John! Are you okay?” You whisper loudly because what if he’s just fine? You’re probably panicking for no reason. He doesn’t answer though and you find him sitting on the floor, his back leaning against his bed.

“What’re you doing down here?” You run your palm over his forehead and push his hair from his eyes. He’s sweating and clammy. He must be running a fever. “John, are you sick?”

“I don’t know.” He finally answers, and he’s holding the side of his stomach. “I think… I think it’s my appendix.”

You reach to turn on the lamp on the bed side table and you both squint at the sudden brightness. “Are you sure? Let’s get you back into bed.” He’s really heavy and you’re probably not helping very much, but he does manage to lay back down, hand still clutching his side.

You sit on the bed, pushing up his t-shirt and pulling away his hand. “I don’t see anything.” Running your hand down his stomach, you notice it is a little swollen. It’s usually flat and slim under his tight t-shirts. Not that you’ve been looking or anything…

You also see a smatter of scars across his skin, a long jagged one under his belly button that probably came from a fight and from the looks of it, John is lucky to be alive. You stare for a little too long until he groans softly.

And damn. He’s holding his right side.

“Okay, no problem.” You tell him calmly, trying to get him to look at you instead of squeezing his eyes shut from pain. “I’m just gonna drive you to the hospital and they’ll fix you all up.”

“I usually avoid hospitals.” He breathes out, finally looking at you. “What’re you wearing?”

Oh God. You look down at yourself and your tank top is not really covering anything up, especially as you’re leaning over and your legs are bare, underwear completely on display. You quickly situate yourself the best you can. “Um, I got comfortable. And that’s not really important right now.”

John leans back on the pillow and whimpers again, but this time not because of the pain. “I can’t believe the first time you’re in my bed and I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Alright here we go.” You ignore him and start running around his room, not caring you’re just in underwear right now. “We gotta get you some pants and some shoes and your wallet. What else…” Talking to yourself helps calm your nerves and eventually, after opening his huge closet and most of the dresser drawers, you find some sweatpants and slippers he can wear. “Okay, we gotta get you downstairs. Are you ready to walk?”

John looks you up and down again, his face flushing and he grumbles. “Yeah, I’ve had much worse than this.” He has to stop a few times down the stairs though to breathe, waiting out the sharp pains until they dull enough so he can keep going.

You put his arm around your shoulders and your arm around his hips and the both of you go slow and steady. “Good job! You’re doing great. We’re almost there. Do you know where your wallet is?” Your voice is high and squeaky but you can’t help it. You know you need to hurry so his appendix doesn’t burst.

“It’s in the bowl.”

You find it quickly and leave him to lean on the couch while you shuffle back into your jeans and turn around so you can slip your bra back on. You find your shoes by the other side of the couch and realize John must have taken them off for you. That was sweet. “Okay, purse. I just need my purse and then we can go. Oh and my keys.” You walk back into the kitchen and find all of your stuff and rush back to John, who is walking slowly towards the closet.

“Here, wear my jacket. You’ll freeze.”

You slip the suit jacket on and smell John all around you. It’s so good. Focus. “I have your phone, do you need anything else?”

“We’re taking my car.”

“You can’t drive!”

John just looks at you, sweaty hair falling in his eyes. “You can drive my car.”

“Umm… No, I don’t think so.”

“C’mon, let’s go.” John uses the wall to steady himself until you catch up to him, circling your arm carefully around his waist to help. You realize his whole body is shaking.

“John, I can’t drive your car, what if I crash it?”

“You won’t.”

You feel bad for arguing with him when he’s sick, so you don’t say anything else and guide him gently to sit down in the passenger seat. You lean over to put his seatbelt on and you swear he smells your hair.

“Okay, I can totally do this. Where the hell am I going?” You ask as you press the button to open the garage door and start the car. John finds his phone that was in your purse and turns on Maps.

“If I do go to the hospital, this is where I go.”

You put his phone where you can see it and the hospital is actually pretty close, only about a ten minute drive. “When did you have to go to the hospital last?”

He looks very uncomfortable and stiff so you reach over and grab his hand. He quickly threads his fingers through yours and leans back a little. “Uh, I got shot on a job and drove three hours.”

You try not to seem horrified. “Why didn’t you stop somewhere else?”

“I thought I could get the bullet out myself.”

Perfectly reasonable you think to yourself, sarcastically. “You couldn’t do it?”

John whimpers when you drive over a few bumps, but otherwise this car is a smooth ride. “There was too much blood and I also sprained my wrist, so I couldn't get a good grip.”

“Is this worse than being shot?” You ask, trying to keep him distracted.

“Neither are fun.”

You bite at your lip as you concentrate on the road. There’s no traffic because it’s so late and the hospital is close. “You’ll probably go right into surgery. I’ll check in on Pooch, okay? Is there anything else you want me to do?”

“No.”

You’re surprised he agreed so quickly and glad he doesn’t give you a hard time about it.

“Are you sure?”

There it is. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay well, just stay at the house. Use the garage door opener to get in and out. Eat whatever you want. You can stay in my room, don’t--” He grabs at his stomach and winces, “don’t sleep on the couch. And his food is in the laundry room and he likes to run around in the backyard.”

“Anything else?”

He squeezes your hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course, John.” You pull up to the emergency door and put the car in park. “Friends take care of each other, right?”

The car door opens and you hurry around to help John get inside. You stay with him as long as you can, talk to the doctor, give the nurse your phone number so they can call you when he’s out of surgery, and try to fill out as much paperwork as you can. When it’s time for you to leave, you lean over John and press your palm to his beard.

“It’ll be over before you know it, okay? I’ll be here when they’re done.”

John weakly smiles at you and they start to wheel him away.

All you can do is hope you got here in time and that everything goes okay.

The drive back to your apartment sure is different in John’s fancy car. You don’t really want to drive it more than you have to and just stop by quickly to pack a small bag with your medicine, some clean clothes, and your old laptop.

You leave John’s suit jacket on the back of a kitchen chair. You like that there's something of his at your place.

Back at John’s house it’s quiet. Not too quiet though. It’s peaceful here. The dog is plenty company and you nap in his bed just because if you didn’t, he’d probably know and never let you hear the end of it. It really is the best bed you’ve ever slept in. Never mind the fact it smells like John, the pillows are soft and the sheets expensive. Definitely not from Target, like your own.

The kitchen is spacious, but you don’t cook anything except some toast to go with your bowl of cereal. You do eat the rest of John’s fruit though, and remind yourself to stop at the store so he has some fresh food in the house when he gets home. The only thing you feel slightly guilty about is taking advantage of the amazing bathtub adjacent to his bedroom. He only has some shaving cream, soap, and shampoo so you don’t think you’re completely invading his space, but it still feels weird.

The view really is fantastic and you drink coffee, just staring out the window for the longest time. You look over to the lake and think about that day. You can’t see the picnic table where you first met John and for that, you are grateful. You still know it’s there though, but what matters is that you are on a completely different side of it now. You think about living here and how things could be. The fantasy is quite compelling, but that’s really all it is. It’s fun to think about though.

You get anxious for John to be out of surgery and you can’t stop looking at your phone. To keep occupied you walk around his living room a few times, noticing something new each round. The old books on the coffee table, the candles in the corner, and Pooch’s toys here and there. You half expect to find piles of picture frames, but they’re gone. There are a few photos of Pooch on the refrigerator door, but that’s it. The house could easily be considered cold and empty, but somehow it’s not.

You finally get a call that John is doing well and ready to go home. He’s pale when you enter his recovery room and you immediately go to his side.

“Hey, you feeling better?”

“Mmm.” He mumbles, still sleepy from the drugs. “Good as new.”

“Are you ready to go home?”

He nods, his eyes blinking slowly and you listen as the nurse explains that he’s lucky he got here when he did because his appendix didn’t rupture and just had to be removed. John needs to rest, he can’t get the incision sight wet or dirty, drink a lot of fluids, and he can’t lift anything over ten pounds. You get the prescription for his pain pills and she leaves you to go get a wheelchair.

You go downstairs to get the car and John sleeps the whole way home.

Getting him in bed should be interesting, but he’s more stable than you thought he’d be. You don’t try the stairs though and instead put him on the couch, covering him up with a blanket and putting the dog outside for some quiet.

“Do you need anything?” You ask, sitting on the edge of the couch and you rub his shoulder a little.

“Just you, here with me. Thanks for staying.”

“Duh, I’m happy to.” You smile, and it’s so true. You owe John a million debts in favors and this is just the start. “I’m gonna run and get some food and your pain pills, okay? You’re just going to sleep for awhile.”

“You’ll come back?”

“I promise I’ll be right back.”

He takes your hand from his shoulder and kisses the back of it, pressing his warm lips to your skin. You would have gotten a flutter of butterflies, but he promptly falls asleep and you doubt he’ll even remember the gesture.

You let the dog back in and calm him down before you leave so John has company if he wakes up. The trip to the store is fast and you’re glad you had already packed a bag so you don’t have to stop at your place. It feels weird driving your own car again, but you can’t bring yourself to drive John’s now that you don’t need to, but the memory behind the wheel will always be there.

It’s starting to get dark when you arrive back at his house and you peek in the living room to see if he’s up. He’s petting Pooch and sitting with a pillow behind his back.

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay.”

You leave the bags of groceries on the counter, not being able to resist going to him. “You know, he came to wake me up last night.”

John looks surprised. “Really?”

“Yep, he saved you.”

“No,” John laughs softly. “You saved me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.”

“Drive yourself to the hospital?” You guess and he shrugs. Yeah, he would have. You point to his stomach and you can see the bandage through his white shirt. “You’re gonna have a scar.”

“Yes, another one.” He sighs, but it’s not sad. It’s just a fact.

“Are you hungry? You must be. How about some soup?” You get up from the couch and pat Pooch on the head. John grabs your hand to keep you there.

“Seriously, thank you.”

You roll your eyes and smile. “You would’ve done the same for me, right?”

Ah, that seems to get at him, finally. He scoffs and lets your hand go. “Okay, you’re right. It is weird accepting help after all this time.”

“Told you.” You poke at his beard, where you think there’s a hidden dimple and head to the kitchen. “And it feels good to help you, so I get where you were coming from.”

“Good.” He struggles to get up and you go back to his side.

“What’re you doing?”

He holds his stomach and uses the couch to help him stand. “I have to use the restroom.”

“Oh,” You help him walk slowly down the hallway and the more he walks, the more balanced he becomes. You leave him to do his thing and turn on the stovetop, dumping the premade soup you had bought in a pot and turn the oven on to warm some bread. The kitchen is so nice and everything seems to be brand new, shiny stainless steel.

John makes it to the kitchen all by himself and goes to the counter to sit down. You want to tell him he should probably go lay on the couch, but his color is coming back and he looks more awake.

“This is not how I planned the rest of our night going.”

That makes you perk up. “And what exactly were you planning?”

“Well, not a trip to the hospital. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You shake your head and pull out a chair to sit by him. “I got my shifts covered for the next few days. Consider me your nurse, Mr. Wick.”

First shock and then heat crosses his face. “Are you sure? I feel terrible… but not enough to send you away.”

You laugh and get up to find some bowls. “It’s absolutely fine. I have a ton of vacation hours I didn’t even know I had. And all the high school kids want more hours before school starts. I can work on the schedules from my computer, so you have nothing to worry about.”

His eyes track your every movement, even when you open wrong drawers or cabinets, he never corrects you. He’s letting you find your own way and just watches you thoughtfully. “I’m gonna take you on a real vacation.” It almost sounds threatening.

Smiling, you don’t say anything as you pour the soup and gather warm bread in a basket. “Bon appetit.” You tell him sarcastically. Grocery store soup is not the best, but it’s all you could come up with at the last minute. He doesn’t eat a lot anyway and is quickly full after just a few bites. You bet he’ll be wanting some more food in a while, but all the drugs are still in his gut.

He watches as you clean up, the same look in his eyes while you were making dinner, like he can’t believe you’re still here. You let him observe and do your own thing, getting Pooch some dinner too, fresh water and letting him out while you rinse off the dishes and put the rest of the groceries away.

When you’re all done, you turn to him and ask if he wants to go to bed.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower first.” He says, “I feel gross.”

“John, you can’t do that, remember?” You tell him, opening the glass door for Pooch to come back in for the night. “You can’t get your bandage wet.”

He groans in frustration. “Great.”

You lean over and pretend to smell his armpit. “You do stink,” and he instantly smells himself, glaring at you when he realizes you’re joking.

With the most pitiful look, he pouts. “Help?”

“What’d you want me to do? Give you a sponge bath?”

His spirit lifts and you haven’t seen him smile like this since yesterday. “Are you offering?”

You lean against the counter and stare at him. “Are you serious?”

“I think my appendix bursting is the best thing that ever happened to me.” He slowly gets off the chair and starts to head upstairs.

“It didn’t burst!” You call out after him and start to turn out all the lights. You consider grabbing your overnight bag you had put in the living room. You can’t imagine not sleeping in the same room as John. What if he needed something? You get it and jog up the stairs. You find John in his bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet seat, waiting for you. “It did not burst.” You repeat, having a feeling that John is acting like this just to get attention but you doubt you’ll never know for sure.

He pouts some more. “It felt like it did.”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m going into nurse mode, so no funny business.” You’re stern but you really have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. You decide to just pretend you do and go to his closet to get a bunch of towels. You lean into the shower and grab the soap and shampoo, then start the water in the sink to get it warm. He’s watching you here too, but his gaze is less intense and softer than you have ever seen before. “This might hurt, take your time.” You help him slowly take his shirt off, trying not to jostle his side, and throw it to the floor.

Your breath catches in your lungs. This is the first time you’ve seen him up close without a shirt and the scars littered across his chest are in all different shapes and forms, some faded almost white while others still pink and fresh. You’re relieved when you see that they’re all closed up at least, and healing. You wonder if he stitched them himself or if he had help.

He watches while you take in your fill and you get embarrassed. “I’m sorry,”

“It’s fine, I got to see most of you last night.” He teases. “This is only fair.”

Now you’re embarrassed for an entirely different reason and you can feel the burn on your cheeks. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

He smirks and blushes too. “I definitely remember.”

“Shut up,” You tell him, with no force and you grab a washcloth to get it wet and soapy. “Okay, you can probably do your front by yourself?”

He seems disappointed but takes the towel from you, quickly rubbing over his chest and arms, up his neck and face. You give him a fresh cloth with just warm water so he can wash the suds away. Motioning for him to turn sideways on the seat, you slide your fingers through his hair. “Do you want me to wash it?”

“Mm.. maybe tomorrow?” His head is bent down and he seems to be almost swaying at your touch.

You get the soapy towel from him and start on his shoulders, letting the water drip down his tattoos. “What does it mean?” You ask, tracing the ink, not being able to help yourself.

“Fortune favors the brave.” He answers and pauses. “I got it while I was in the Marines.”

That explains a lot. You notice the two crosses, the large one on his back and the other on his shoulder. You think back to the first day you met him, asking if he was religious and he didn’t answer you. The tattoos only add mystery and you don’t want to press him anymore, but it’s hard to look away. They’re captivating and your interest only increases when you start to count all the scars carved into his skin here too.

You have to take a deep breath to get it together and quickly finish up. He probably thinks you're crazy for staring so long.

“Do you want to put on a clean shirt?” You hand the wash cloth back to him so he can do whatever he needs on his lower body while you step out.

“No, just some clean shorts. They’re in the top drawer.”

You try not to look at his underwear and grab the first pair you see, then hand them to him. He hesitates before asking, “Can you sleep in the bed? Like we did at your place?”

“Yeah, of course.” You see his shoulders relax as soon as you agree and he smiles. “I’ll get changed out here. You finish up and I’ll tuck you in.”

He’s beaming now, but you can see he’s starting to get tired. “Best nurse ever.”

You shut the door and get into your pajamas, another tank top but shorts this time, and pull back the covers. Pooch is sprawled out on his bed and you try to think of anything else you need before you lay down too. Crap. Quickly, you go back downstairs to get some water and his pain pills. When you get back, John is sliding under the sheets in just a pair of black boxer briefs.

You don’t let the sight get to your head and set the glass by John, handing him a pill after. “Take this.”

He stares at it blankly and then smiles at you. “I’d rather have a kiss to make it feel better.”

That does get to your head and you're dizzy with affection. You don’t know how much longer you can keep up this game of cat and mouse with him. “Take it and we’ll see.”

Eagerly, the pill is swallowed and you crawl into bed, scooting close to where John lays very still. He looks very pleased with himself and you roll your eyes before gently kissing him on the forehead.

“There.”

“I feel like my injury deserves at least two.” His voice is low and deliberate, but he’s teasing. You sigh, pretending to be annoyed, and give him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek, right above his beard.

“Happy?”

He nods once and with reflexes you’re surprised are so fast, grabs your arm before you scoot away from him. “Thank you for staying.”

You put your head on his pillow, your nose rubbing against his shoulder back and forth. Carefully, you place your hand on his stomach above the bandage. “Does it hurt?”

He puts a hand on top of yours. “Less than a bullet, more than being stabbed.”

You grin against his skin. “Ah, I totally understand.”

“What are you going to go to school for?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re still taking classes in the fall, right?” He waits for you to nod. “Well what for?”

You hadn’t really given it much thought, knowing you’d have to take prerequisite courses before a decision had to be made at the community college. “I don’t know yet. Maybe business… why?”

“I was just thinking…” He turns his head to look at you. “You would make a really good nurse.”

You giggle softly and pull yourself away to turn off the light. “John, I can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“Oh…”

The light switches off and you start to get comfortable. John pulls you towards him again and this time you protest.

“I’m gonna bump you in the middle of the night.”

He doesn’t let go. “No, you won’t. It’ll make me feel better.”

The bed is big enough, but you lay next to him, planning to move away once the pill kicks in and he passes out. He surprises you though, by lifting his arm and scooping you even closer so you’re completely pressed into his side with his hand trailing down your back.

“Sometimes I bleed a lot…”

It’s dark and you can’t see his face, but his body is really warm. “What?”

“After working… I’m usually bleeding somewhere.”

“Sounds like you need to get better at your job.”

“Haha.”

“John?”

“Hmm?”

“If you bleed on me, I will puke all over you.”

He yawns and presses his mouth to your forehead. “I can’t stand the sight of puke.”

You try not to because he’s falling asleep, but the irony makes you laugh. This would never work.

The next day you let John sleep while you make bagels and peanut butter. You cut up an apple too and decided on tea instead of coffee, which you’re sure he’ll be mad about.

You’re right. He is grumpy and until you offer to wash his hair, he’s frowning the whole morning.

You find a stool in his office and make him lean his head back in the bathroom sink. You play with his hair longer than you had planned, but seeing the blissed out look on his face is worth it. Your fingers really start to massage his scalp until he lets out a little moan, his lips parted and suddenly he opens his eyes. You notice again what a soft brown they are.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

Nails gently scratching at his neck, you stop and start to squeeze up the back of his head. “What’re you talking about?”

“You’re going to have to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because… it’s starting to feel too good.”

Immediately you freeze and don’t dare look at his lap. “Oh! Oh… sorry… that’s not what I was trying to do. At all.”

“I know.”

You rinse his hair and twist a towel around, just like you do for yourself after a shower. “Feel better now?”

Right away, John takes the towel and pats his hair dry, going to sit on his bed. “Yes, thank you.”

“Well, I think I’ll take Pooch out for awhile and then head home.”

He looks up, startled. “What? Why?” “Why what?”

“You’re not staying?”

“John, you need to rest. You should just sleep and watch TV all day.”

“Yeah, but… do you have to work?”

You shake your head and sit on the bed too. “No, not until tomorrow.”

He starts to smile at that. “So, you can spend one more night?”

You give him a look. “You were fine last night, you slept like a log.”

His face falls again with concern. “Did I snore? Did you not sleep? Were you not comfortable?”

“No, I was fine.” You were more than fine. You woke up cuddled into John while he was still sleeping and you let the fantasy run through your mind for a while, probably more than you should have, and now he wants you to stay. It’s becoming a little intense and then you brilliantly decided to wash his hair, which was probably torture for the both of you. You need a mental break. You need some space. “I’ll stay if you promise to rest, how about that?”

“I'll do whatever you want.”

You walk over to the big window in the bedroom and look out to the view again. Maybe you can walk to the campus and see about what classes you should take. It would only take about fifteen minutes to get there. Or you could take Pooch to the lake. When you look out the west side of the window you can see a ton of people already unpacking their cars and sailboats are leaving the dock. When you tell John what your plans are he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

He presses his hand to his side, above the stitches and his shoulders slump too. “I just… I wanted to do those things with you. You should go, of course. I just wish I could too.”

“It looks too hot out for all that.” You change your mind when you see how sad he is. You couldn’t possibly go now. An image of the both of you holding hands and taking a walk around the lake floats through your thoughts. “I’m just gonna take him out front and throw the ball around, and then I have some work to do.”

John breathes out and leans back on a pillow. He’s starting to get tired again. “Okay.”

“Do you want to go downstairs? Read? Watch some TV?” He doesn’t say anything and grabs a remote from his bed stand. What you thought was an armoire is actually a stand for a TV when the doors slide open. “Well, that’s convenient. Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m good.” He mumbles, his eyes starting to blink slowly. You watch as his head falls a little and you cover him up with a spare blanket, shutting the TV off and closing the blinds before you leave.

It actually is really hot outside and Pooch is panting as he brings you back the yellow tennis ball for the fifth time. He stops at a noise and takes down the driveway, running fast and you call out but he ignores you. You try to yell his name in a more alpha voice, like John does but that doesn’t do anything except make you feel like an idiot. When you get to the shrubs at the front of John’s property you see a young girl on her bicycle, talking to Pooch and petting his head.

“Hi?” You greet and think this must be the neighbor girl who watched the dog while John was staying at your place. “Are you Cassey?”

She smiles up at you shyly, shielding the sun from her eyes. “Yeah! Can Pooch play with me?”

You laugh and tell her just for a few minutes. It’s hot and it’s time for his lunch. She seems fine with that and gets off her pink bike. “Are you John’s new friend?”

You’re surprised that she knows who you are. “Yes, I guess that’s me.”

She giggles as Pooch attacks her with kisses, his weight making her sit in the yard and she screams in delight. It’s a really cute scene. Cassey has brown pigtails and a shirt with a sparkly rainbow on it. Pooch suddenly turns towards you, running at full speed and all you can do is sit in the grass too, until he gets his fill of more kisses before he darts back to Cassey, running circles between the two of you and wagging his tail.

“Do you like it when Pooch visits?” You ask, standing up and brushing green stains from your jeans.

“Yeah! We have so much fun! Dad will take us to the lake and he chases all the ducks around!”

You gasp. “Your dad chases ducks?!”

“No, silly.” Cassey laughs and rolls around on her stomach. “Pooch does!”

“Ohh, right.” You start to walk up towards the house and the mailbox catches your eye. Doing a good deed for the day, you empty it and take the stack with you. “Well, we have to get back. It was nice meeting you, Cassey. Have a fun day!”

“Bye!” Cassey kisses Pooch on the head one more time before getting her bicycle. The dog runs after you and almost crashes into the door. You can’t help but giggle a little to yourself and he plops down in the middle of the kitchen, panting and drooling.

Sitting on the couch, you freeze in place and listen as John gets up and uses the bathroom upstairs. You hope you didn’t wake him. You toss the mail on the coffee table and boot up your old laptop so you can make the next schedule for work. Technically, you could wait until you go in tomorrow but at least you’ll have a head start. A few hours must pass and you’re so involved with numbers and spreadsheets, you don’t even notice John is walking down the stairs, barefoot and still in his pajamas.

“Morning.” He mumbles and gingerly lays on the couch, his feet nudging your thigh.

“It’s like…” You look at your watch. “Shit, it’s already three! You must be starving. I can’t believe you slept that long.”

There’s a low rumbling sound and you realize it’s your own stomach growling. Instead of laughing, John quickly gets his phone out and orders food.

“Pizza will be here in thirty.” He tells you, shifting so he can see you better, his arm draped along the back of the couch. He rubs at his eyes and wakes himself up, then runs his hand through his hair.

Thankfully, you get distracted by your computer again until he pokes you with his toe. It makes you smile, but you still don’t pay him much attention. “What’s up? Do you feel better?”

“Yes, I feel a lot better.”

“Good, ‘we heal in our sleep’ is what my grandma always told me.” You pat his foot, then see a mistake you made on Sam’s schedule and move to fix it.

“What’re you working on?”

You close the computer and finally look towards him. “Just a schedule for work.”

“What’s that?”

“My laptop.”

“What century was it made in?”

You push his foot away. “Very funny.”

He’s watching you again, with a small amused smile, like he’s making some kind of list in his head. “What else did you do today?”

“Oh! I met Cassey and she played with Pooch for a little while. I got your mail.” You point to the stack on the table. “And then I guess I got caught up in work.”

John looks at the envelopes and stretches his neck to see Pooch laying on the kitchen floor. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” You grin and put the computer on the table, settling in by John’s legs and leaning your elbow across his shins. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Tomorrow you go for a check up and they’ll take that bandage off.”

“No more sponge baths?”

“I don’t know,” You tease lightly. “Never say never.”

Shock makes his mouth hang open. “Seriously?” “Yeah, I mean what if you get shot again? Or get stabbed?” You tsk at him, but still smiling. “You really need to work on being a better assassin.”

John moves to sit up, and you think he’s mad but he clears his throat and gives you a stare, his hair falling in his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I’m excellent.”

“Mmhm.” You touch his shirt with your fingers, knowing exactly where the scars are on his skin. “Says who?”

“All the dead people I’ve killed.”

That makes you scrunch your nose in distaste and he just smiles, leaning over to take the mail in his lap.

“What was the hardest job you’ve ever had?”

John stops looking through the pile of envelopes and raises an eyebrow.

“What? I’m curious.”

“The sight of blood will make you puke, but you want to hear about that?”

“That bad?”

“Let’s just say I’d rather ease you into one of those stories. Ask me something else.”

“Hmm.” You put your feet up on the coffee table and think. “Do you mainly use a gun or a knife?”

He laughs. “You are in a curious mood.”

“It’s more interesting than doing schedules.” Your foot nudges your computer and John takes the stack of mail again, and nonchalantly answers your question.

“Yeah, mostly guns and knives. Anything I guess… a book, a pencil, a car… mostly my bare hands.”

He says it all like it’s nothing, like he’s telling you a grocery list. You stare at his hands as he rips open paper. Wow. That’s oddly hot and gross at the same time. He’s not paying attention so you closely watch his long fingers and wide palms, and you imagine them handling a gun… then handling you. John suddenly leans back and sighs loudly, a large card in his lap.

It snaps you back into reality. “What’s that? It looks like a wedding invitation.”

He nods and tells you it is. “My friend, Marcus… he’s getting married.”

“Is he an assassin friend?”

John seems to be stuck in his own head and he’s just staring at the swirly gold print.“Yeah, he’s mostly a sniper though.”

“Interesting. Have you met his fiance?”

“No… we don’t usually get involved in each other's lives too much.”

“Why?” You grab the pretty card and glance at it.

“It just…” John looks at you with sad eyes. “Complicates things.”

“Well, I think it’s nice he invited you. You should go.”

“By myself? I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

He takes the card back from you and throws it on the coffee table. “Just not my thing.”

The door buzzes with the pizza and John tells you it’s all paid for. It smells amazing and you set it on the kitchen counter, then grab some cans of soda from the fridge. You’d love to finish the wine from yesterday, but not while John is on pain pills. Pooch stirs and finally gets up, probably hungry too so you grab his bowl and fill it while John slowly gets himself to a seat.

He finally has an appetite since his surgery and eats half by himself. You’re hungry too, so you don’t talk too much, but you can see his mood is improving by his small, shy smiles. You realize he must’ve been hungry all day and that’s why he was grumpy. You should have known.

“What? You’re looking at me funny.”

“Nothing,” But you can’t help to smirk, figuring John out is fun. “Hey, how about I go with you?”

“Go where?”

“To the wedding. I can be your plus one.” You instantly regret the words and cringe at your own stupidity. “Uh, I mean… if you don’t already have someone to go--”

“I don’t!” John interrupts before you can take inviting yourself back. “I’d love it if you came with me.”

“Really? Are you sure?” The plates need to be cleared and you get up, gathering napkins and dishes. You have a better understanding of where everything is in the kitchen now. “I mean, I don’t know if you want me meeting your friends…”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You look down at your jeans with grass stains and wrinkled tank top. Your hair is in a messy bun. You feel very plain. “I just don’t think I’d fit in.”

John is confused. “Because you’re not an assassin?”

Ugh. How can guys be so dense sometimes. “No… look, remember how out of your league I am? I just don’t want your friends to think you’re with some loser or make fun of you or something. But I guess if they know we’re just friends it wouldn’t matter. Obviously we would never be together, they would know that… right?” By the time you’re done your cheeks are on fire.

John doesn’t say anything and grabs a cookie from the plate you left on the counter. You go to the fridge and get the milk you bought and one glass, setting it in front of him. You break a cookie in half and dunk it in the cup, and John does the same. When he speaks, it comes out quietly. “I’m disappointed.”

It’s like a punch in the gut. “I know, I’m sorry. I wish I could be fancier… like when you wear your suits, I just don’t--”

“No… no.” He stops and leans on the counter, not meeting your eyes at first. “I’m not disappointed in you. I don’t think I ever could be.” His eyes lift, gaze intense. “I’m disappointed in myself.”

Now you’re confused. “Why would you be?”

“Because all this time I thought I was doing a good job of showing you how special I think you are.”

“Oh…”

His hair falls in his eyes and his long fingers push it back. “I guess I need to do a better job.”

“No.” You try for a smile, but it’s a weak attempt. For a distraction you start to clean up the counter. “That’s not the way it works. I have to know that on my own. I shouldn’t have to have a man tell me I’m special for me to believe it.” You stop cleaning to rub at your forehead. All this growth can be so frustrating. “My thinking is so damaged.”

“You’re not damaged.” John says. “I just wish you could see what I see.”

You ignore his comment. “Maybe you should bring a date to the wedding. Like, a lady who would actually look good with you.” Who wouldn’t be embarrassing, or plain, or work at the gas station.

He gives you a very disapproving look.

“John, I’m sure you know a ton of attractive women who would die to go out with you. It shouldn’t be that hard to find someone.”

He sighs and gets up to let Pooch out. “The only woman I’m interested in going to that wedding with is standing in my kitchen. So, you’re right. It shouldn't be that hard.”

You bite at your lip, torn of what to do. Maybe you’ll ask your therapist for her advice at your next appointment. So, you’ll tell him that. Kind of. “How about I think about it, okay? I promise that I will.”

John smiles, and you think he knows what a big step it would be if you were to go with him. He lets Pooch back in and locks the door.

It’s early, but both of you are tired. John needs all the rest he can get and your adrenaline is finally fading. You turn out all the lights and he reaches for your hand, but you hold on to his elbow instead. “Bed?”

“Bed.” He leads you up the stairs slowly and gets washed up. You take your makeup bag and go to the guest room to do the same. The tub is the size of your entire apartment and you’re bitter that no one is enjoying this immaculate room.

The both of you meet in bed, but this time you keep your distance a little. You can tell he washed his chest because his skin is damp. He exhales loudly as he relaxes and you grab the remote control.

“So fancy…” You murmur when he shows you which button to press and the cabinet doors slide open.

“Functional.” John corrects you. He scoots down to put his head on his pillow and somehow he’s magically closer to you. It’s a slick move. He spreads his legs under the blankets and his foot lightly touches your shin. When you don’t shy away and pretend to focus on the TV, John moves his foot slowly down your leg and wiggles his toes against yours.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks.

“Very. Are you?”

“You’re so far away.”

Laughing, you turn towards him. “I’m literally right here.”

He blinks slowly, watching you.

“What?”

“I like having you in my bed.”

You play dumb. “I know, right? It’s so comfortable. I feel bad making you sleep in mine.”

“Wasn’t bad at all.”

“Yeah?” You lean up to turn the light off and now it’s a lot darker, with just the glare from the screen flooding the room. “You could move in with me, ya know? I’ll show you how the simple people live.” You’re teasing but the shock on his face is priceless. “What’s that look for? You can’t imagine being without your extravagant bathtub?”

“No, I’m just wondering if your apartment allows dogs.”

You’re completely dumbfounded and you try to punch his shoulder, but those reflexes get you again and suddenly you're pulled in the crook of his neck, his arm draped over you again like the night before. You lay your head on his shoulder and it’s so comfortable, you briefly forget this isn’t what should be happening, but then you can’t bring yourself to care enough and move.

“Cuddling with a patient is very unprofessional of a nurse.”

John squeezes you hard. “It’s a good thing you’re not a nurse.”

You smile, closing your eyes and you should be sad that this is definitely the last sleepover. But you just have a feeling it won’t be.

“So… then after that we woke up and I took him to his doctor appointment, even though he probably could have gone himself, and then he took me out to breakfast. And then I went home and took a nap before work.”

Beth, your therapist, is smiling at you. “Wow, that’s quite a few days you had.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What would you say is the part that sticks out the most?”

You think for a minute and shift the pillow behind your back. The office is hotter today and she has a fan blowing in the corner, plus the window open. She’s sitting across from you and in the short time you’ve known her, it’s hard to believe how she can already read you and how gentle she directs you into different ways of thinking, silently challenging and almost making you wonder if you’re coming up with your own ideas. This is the first time you haven’t cried at a session, but it’s only half way over so there’s still plenty of time.

“I don’t know. Maybe that I was able to get John up and to the hospital pretty calmly. I mean, I was nervous but I still did it.”

She nods. “Exactly right. If you were put in the same situation, maybe a few months ago… how would you have handled it?”

“Hmm... well, I doubt I’d be somewhere like John’s house but if I were at work or something? I probably would have froze and let someone else take over.”

“Do you think a part of yourself is starting to have trust in your capabilities?”

The thought makes you feel the prick of tears at your eyes. You haven’t trusted yourself in a long time. Every choice, every thought was essentially wrong and you would turn to grandma. Her word became your world, whether you knew it or not. She made all the decisions and you were fine having her do it for the both of you. It was just easier and then it became a habit to let her lead your life. You were too young to know you were even letting it happen, and at the time it was what you needed, but now you have to learn how to live on your own.

“I still second guess myself all the time. And that can be exhausting… but I’m trying.”

“What if you didn’t second guess yourself? What if you allowed yourself to make mistakes along the way?”

“What if I make a mistake and lose John?”

“Okay, well what if you don’t make a mistake and lose John anyway? What if something happens and it doesn’t work out, by no mistake of your own. It just wasn’t a good match. What would that mean?”

You look out the window and frown. “It would mean that I’d still be okay. By myself. I can take care of myself.” You would really miss him though, and just the thought breaks your heart. The ache is exactly why you’ve been keeping your distance. The fear of rejection is much easier to deal with than a shattered heart. Right now, it’s the fear of losing his friendship that is overwhelming. “But… he’s the only friend I have. What if… what if my appendix burst or something, and he wasn’t around anymore. I don’t know what I would do.”

Beth smiles and her voice is soft. “Let’s say that happens. What would you do?”

“I don’t know who I would call. I don’t have any other friends.”

“You don’t think Carla or Sam would help you?”

“Maybe, but I’d hate to bother them.”

She tilts her head, confused. “Why do you think they would be bothered by you asking for help?”

It makes you think about what John had asked you the other night. If you would have helped him and you didn’t hesitate. If Carla or Sam needed you, you’d be there for them too. Maybe you’re not such a burden. Grandma often didn’t let you ask for anything. She would figure it out for you or you’d go without. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. It’s something we can work on. But, I think they would both be very kind to you if you did need their help. And remember, you can always call 911 if it’s an emergency.”

You look down at your hands sheepishly. “Right, of course.”

“Good.” She says, pushing up her glasses and sipping her coffee. “Now can we talk about the wedding?”

“Okay.”

“I want you to close your eyes and envision you and John at the wedding.”

The thought makes you smile.

“And now think of the worst possible thing that could happen.”

Your smile instantly fades.

“What happened?”

“John and I were dancing and I tripped and fell into the cake.” You feel silly, but Beth is nodding to validate it.

“Okay, good. Let’s talk about it. Do you think if you had a plan in place for that not to happen, that you would consider going?”

You shrug. “Maybe.”

“Well, let’s try it. Let's say you do fall and trip into the cake. What would happen?”

“Everyone would laugh. I would embarrass John. I would ruin someone’s wedding day.”

“Those are possibilities. What made you trip in the first place?”

You close your eyes and think about the image of shoes in your head. “My heel got caught on something.”

“And what’s something that would prevent that from happening?”

“Um… I could wear flat shoes? Something I’m more comfortable in.”

“Yes! Perfect! What else?”

“Hmm... I’m not sure.”

She nods, encouraging as always. “That’s okay. Soon this type of thinking will become easier. What if you saw where the cake table was set up and you danced on the other side of the room?”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Keep your eyes closed. I want you to put yourself in John’s place, or maybe even the bride and the groom. And they just saw one of their guests' trip. What do you think they would do?”

“Probably want to make sure she’s okay.”

“Are they laughing? Are they mad?”

“No.” You open your eyes and breathe. “Do you think I should go?”

“I think you should give yourself permission to go, if you want. It might feel like it’s too soon for something so out of your element, but that’s entirely up for you to decide.”

You look at the clock and it’s time to leave already. You have a lot to think about, but in a very different way that you’re used to.

Sam just left to go home and change for this pool party he’s been talking nonstop about for days. You already miss his excited chatter and now it’s quiet in the store. You’re mopping up the floor after someone dropped a bottle of juice and the toilet was clogged when you got here, but thankfully that’s been fixed. It’s going to be a really long day.

There’s a pile of applications you need to read through, and you’ve been dreading the task for a week now, but Carla really wants you to hire more help. The stack is huge and daunting, but you sit behind the counter and get ready to tackle it just as the door jingles.

You don’t look up and assume the customer will come to you when they’re ready. A cup of coffee, your favorite kind, is set right in front of you and now you can see John’s tall figure as he approaches.

The coffee smells amazing and you can’t hold back a smile. “What’s this for?”

“Nothing.” He replies easily. “Just wanted to stop in and say hi.”

You’ve never had this before. Never had a friend who would ask how your day was and after you tell him about the toilet, the juice, and the applications he would suddenly stop by so effortlessly. It really means a lot to you. You’re beaming and John has to tear his eyes away, otherwise you feel like he’d stare at you forever.

“Well hey, thank you.” You come around the counter and tug at his shirt for him to come closer. “Can I give you a sticky hug?”

He laughs and bends down to fit in your arms. When you’re about to pull away, he grabs you closer and smells your neck, his nose sensually running down your throat. You flush and squeeze his arms as you move away from his touch.

“Was it orange juice?”

“What?” “You smell like orange juice.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yeah it was.” You smell your own hair and it does smell like citrus. Perfect. “Well, how are you feeling? You were supposed to see the doctor today, right?”

“Yes, apparently I’m a fast healer. I told him I had a very good nurse taking excellent care of me.”

You roll your eyes and take the coffee, taking a big drink. “I hope you didn’t say that. You sound like a pervert.”

John laughs and takes the coffee from you, taking a small sip for himself and then handing it back. “That was a very G-rated few nights and I’m a pervert?”

“I guess I am the one who did flash you.” You pull back your coffee when John reaches for it again. “God, I was the pervert all this time!”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” He frowns when you protect your coffee and gets distracted by the memory, looking briefly at your chest before he catches himself and looks away.

You smile when you see pink on his cheeks. “What’re you up to tonight?”

He leans on the counter and pretends to look at all the lottery tickets. “I have to get ready for that job soon.”

“John…” You’re troubled and worried. “You can’t take that job. You just had surgery.”

He shrugs. “I have to. I don’t have a choice.”

“But you’ll get hurt, you’ll pull your stitches out and lord knows what else.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.” He doesn’t seem upset at all.

“Well… can’t you postpone it? Or tell them to get someone else?”

John has a small smile when he finally meets your eyes. “I appreciate that you’re worried about me, but that’s not how it works. It’s just for one night and I’ll be back… and you can take care of me again.” He tries to joke but you’re not laughing. He reaches to rub your arm up and down. “C’mon, it really will be fine, okay?”

“No. Not okay.” You are not happy. Those stitches are still fresh and you can’t imagine the pain he’ll be in, not after what you saw the night he had to go to the hospital.

He sighs and he’s still rubbing your elbow with his thumb. “Well, what do you want me to do?”

You shrug and sulk, crossing your arms over your chest. “I hate seeing you get hurt.”

“It’s my job, remember?”

You inwardly cringe at that because the last thing you want to do is make him feel even worse about his job. The least you could do is be a supportive friend… about killing people. It’s still strange to think about. “Yeah, okay.” You admit defeat. “I just wish there was a way I could help. Or be there or something.”

“Do you want to come with me?”

You raise your eyebrow. “To San Francisco?”

“No, the target moved. He’s actually in the city now. I’ll be at a hotel while I do business. You could stay there if you want and see that I’m okay when I come back. You’d be perfectly safe.”

You grab the schedule and remember that Sam wanted another shift, so you took an extra day off. It's scary, but you want to say yes. “Are you sure I won’t be distracting you or anything?”

John tucks his black hair behind his ear and shoots you an unbelievable grin. “I don’t mind your distractions.”

You’re highly suspicious that he’d get sick of your distractions sooner or later. “Can I be your assassin secretary?”

“No.”

“Can I order room service?”

“Yes, that you can do as many times as you like.”

“Alright fine, I guess I’ll go.” You act bored of it but you’re really nervous and have no idea what to expect. John tells you that he’ll pick you up at your apartment in a few days and bring clothes or whatever else you want.

You follow him out the door and thank him again for the coffee. “I still can’t figure out how you know this is my favorite.”

“You were drinking it at the laundromat that one time.” John explains. “It was the first time I saw you with an ounce of happiness. So I went to the place and asked what you ordered.”

Your mouth falls open. “You did that?”

He gets his keys out and turns to look at you. “Yeah.”

“But you would do that for anyone? Not just me?”

John doesn’t say anything, but smirks as he walks away, leaving you to watch as he goes. You wave to him when he drives away and try not to overthink everything that just happened.

TBC Chapter 4

#keanu reeves #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x y/n #romance #fan fiction #find your worth #chapter 3

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Shuu Route ー Finale

ー The scene starts on the Parade’s venue

Yui: ( It just keeps on getting more crowded for some reason. )

Shuu: Oi, give me your hand.

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah...

Shuu: It’d be a pain to find you if we were to get separated, so this seems like the safest bet, no?

Yui: Yes...

( I suppose I’ll tightly hold his hand back in response... )

*Rustle*

Shuu: ...Ah.

...

Yui: ( Ah...He did the same for me. I’m so happy... )

ー The two of them start walking around

Stall owner: Oh, we meet again!

ー A flashback ensues

Stall owner: The gentleman over there is your boyfriend, isn’t he? If you’re fighting, you should give him one of these to make up.

ー The flashback ends

Yui: You’re from back then...!

Stall owner: Fufufu, judging by the looks of it, you were able to patch things up with your boyfriend.

Yui: Yes, thanks to your help.

Stall owner: I knew it. Unlike back then, I could spot the smiles on your faces, so I realized right away.

Yui: Thank you very much for what you did back then.

Stall owner: No need to thank me. Aah, more importantly...

Mr. Boyfriend!

I didn’t get to say this last time but...Take good care of that lovely girlfriend of yours, okay? Don’t let go of that hand, understood?

Shuu: ...

...No need to remind me, I know.

Stall owner: Fufufu.

I’ll stop bothering you now. Enjoy the Parade to your heart’s content! The best to both of you!

ー The stall owner leaves

Shuu: Good grief...

Yui: ( Fufu. He really is a nice guy after all. I’m glad we were able to show him that everything’s good between us again. )

( Besides... )

( I was so happy to hear Shuu-san’s ‘I know’... )

Shuu: What?

Yui: Ah...No...It’s nothing.

Shuu: Despite that, you have a grin on your face though. ...Hm...

Female Vampire A: Say? Isn’t it time for that soon?

Female Vampire B: Ah! The showpiece of the Parade, the floating lanterns, right?

Female Vampire C: That’s the one thing I look forward to the most every year! We have to secure a spot with a good angle!

Yui: ( Lanterns, huh...? )

Shuu-san, since it’s such a rare opportunity, why don’t we move to another place as well?

Shuu: Right.

...I know the perfect spot for us to watch the show in peace.

Yui: The perfect spot?

...And where would that be?

Shuu: Well, you’ll see once we get there. Follow me.

Yui: ( ...? )

ー The scene shifts to Saint Nore Park

Yui: ( We’ve walked quite a bit since then but everywhere’s full of people! )

( I can’t see any places which would be ideal... )

Shuu: ...Look, it’s in sight now.

Over there.

Yui: There, you mean...The ferris wheel...?

Shuu: Exactly. If we get on there, we should be able to get a good view of the floating lanterns, right?

Yui: Wah, you’ve got a point...! I’m sure we’ll get a beautiful view!

Shuu: I’ve had my eyes on that ferris wheel because it seemed like the perfect place to enjoy a quiet nap.

I didn’t think it’d come in useful here though.

Yui: ( Fufu, how very much like him. )

ー The scene shifts to inside the ferris wheel

Shuu: Watch your step. You’re careless after all.

Yui: Y-Yes ーー There!

( Phew...I haven’t been on a ferris wheel in forever, so I’m a little nervous. )

ー The ferris wheel starts moving

Yui: ( The underground keeps moving further away... )

Shuu: The lanterns should appear soon. ーー Look.

ー Yui looks through the window

Yui: Ah...

Yui: How pretty...!

Shuu: Yeah...

Yui: Somehow it feels like I’m dreaming...

Just a few hours ago, I was fearing for my life, but now I get to enjoy all this...

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...? Is something wrong?

Shuu: No...

I was just thinking how much longer I’ll be able to spend time together with you like this.

Since I’m sure I’ll be left behind all alone one day as well.

Yui: ...Shuu-san...

( It’s true that he’s a Vampire and I’m a human, so one day... )

Shuu: ...However.

I won’t worry about that.

Even if you’re no longer next to me, my feelings for you will live on.

So you can rest assured and stay as a human.

Shuu: ...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ( ...All living beings are fated to die one day. )

( Even if this means one goes before the other. )

( Love is what binds them together. )

( ...Forever... )

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfshuufinale

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dovveling · 3 years

Note

Why must you keep giving me opportunities to spam your ask box 😔

❣️ When did your OC first realise they were in love? How did they react to the realisation?

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)

BESTIE THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME I'VE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE A WEDDING SCENE--

❣️ When did your OC first realize they were in love? How did they react to the realization?

- Unfortunately, it was love at first sight-- Even if Iolas would rather drop dead than admit this. He probably saw the incredibly ostentatious portrait of Lucio in his wing and was taken aback by how attracted he was to this man who was supposedly dead. It only got worse after Lucio got attached to Iolas through the ghost binding within canon-- Iolas the whole time thinks Lucio's romantic advances are just for fun and doesn't expect Lucio to love him at all. All the While he's completely in love with Lucio. (even if he acts like a rude little shit to him 50% of the time) It isn't until Lucio asks him to go traveling in the upright ending that's when Iolas realizes that Lucio is serious about him and even if it scares the shit out of him he can't help but believe him. The events of everything come crashing onto him and he realizes that He's 100% in love and cannot escape it.

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)

(THANK YOU-- I will put this under a read more because the next two answers will be LONg but look under if you wanna see two idiots fall in love)

The sun hung low in the sky as Lucio makes his way to the palace gardens. He has asked Iolas to meet him out by their favorite spot in the garden maze. the blonde smiles remembering how the two of them had found the hidden spot while goofing around and shoving each other into the hedges. It wasn't until one hard push sent Lucio through the hedge and where he expected to land on his ass but he found himself on the other side of a portal with Iolas calling for him from the other side. After Lucio had ushered the other man through the portal the two looked over a hidden meadow that seemed to be somewhere close to the center of the maze.

Lucio could picture it perfectly; the stark white gazebo in the center, the perfect sun rays that sprinkled the fluffy grass, and the willow tree with its small leaves that dripped and trickled. He loved when the wind would blow and the tendrils of the willow would tickle up the wooden beams of the gazebo and scare Iolas into laughter every time the leaves would brush against his lover.

As Lucio draws closer to the portal before he stops and stares at the ring he had spent hours picking out. He had never fussed so much over a gift for someone. He never had to worry about gift-giving, because anything he picked out was glamorous and simply perfect. this however wasn't just a gift. It was a question. It was a statement and soon as he would think he was close to picking he would look and see a flaw and wonder if Iolas could see it and if he did then he'd never get to hear the answer he so desperately wants to hear to the question He'd rather not be asking.

So many times Lucio doubled back on himself about the personal. Is this just too much? could he see himself getting married when his last marriage was such a failure? Then He would hear it. Iolas' laugh and the sunlight hitting his lover's coffee skin and every reservation burned away and was replaced with a deep desire to make this person his and only his.

Lucio steels himself as he pockets the ring, almost dropping the bottle of champagne he forgets he was holding. As he pushes through the portal the blonde's heart skips a little at the sight of his lover resting on the side of the white gazebo, wearing a white robe that Lucio had gotten commissioned to match his iconic white suit. His lover seems to be lost in thought, their crimson eyes gazing over the tree line until Lucio steps closer and knocks on the wood with a playful tune. His wolfish smile triggering a similar one on his lover's face.

"Hi, my Darling--" Iolas starts before pulling Lucio over by his collar to meet his lips. With a giggle, Iolas watches Lucio hop over the median of the gazebo instead of using the very close opening that's just a little be over to the side of them. Lucio tries to steady his face. He doesn't want to come off too excited or nervous. He needs to play it cool so Iolas doesn't suspect anything, but it's too late Iolas gives him a curious look. "What are you planning? I know that look."

Lucio however holds his hands up after he places the bottle of champagne down on the railing in front of them. "Why do I always have to be up to something huh? Can't a man just meet his lover in a secret hole in the woods for some late-night drinking and maybe some late-night macking?" the blonde throws the magician a wink, which is met with a playful smack that Lucio is too found of.

"Did you bring glasses, Oh Count of Macking?" Iolas teases with a click of his tongue and to that Lucio's face freezes for a second because he did not think about the glass part of drinking, but his shock lasts for a split second before he nudges his lover with an elbow and a cheeky grin. "Can't you just magic something up for us--" Before Lucio can even finish Iolas throws his head back, his whole body shakes with a genuine laugh, one that Lucio only sees when Iolas reacts to his particular stupidity. "Absolutely not. I cannot manifest glassware, but fret not Lulu I prepared for this." The silver-haired man stands on the railing of the gazebo and reaches up behind one of the posts and brings down two champagne glasses. Lucio helps the shorter man down before taking both glasses and leaning down to give his lover a short kiss on the head.

Snickering to himself Lucio places the glasses down and pops open the champagne. "See? Who needs magic when you have a lover who has the spirit of a squirrel. Why are those even up there?" Iolas can't seem to hold back his laugher and starts into a long dialogue about how the last party they hosted he was tasked with disposing of all the drinks Lucio downed after getting into a drinking match with Julian and at some point, he got too fed up hauling all the empty glass wear to and fro so he eventually gave up and used the portal which was much closer than the garbage. Soon as he finishes that story Lucio makes note that not only does he not remember this drinking contest at all, but he also notices that the whole upper layer of the Gazebo is littered with small drinking glasses of all shapes and sizes.

This brings the two of them to a comfortable speed of talking, to which Lucio adds more flavor by introducing the drinks. The sun finally settles and the garden lights are now on and thanks to all the glass wear in the gazebo there are small reflected lights scattered within their own space. Slowly the stories of their day dwindle and eventually, they huddle close to each other so they can look under the top of their gazebo and point out stars. Lucio watches the small warm lights bounce off his lover's face and his heart races. He can't chicken out now.

"Iolas." Lucio stops the silver-haired man mid-sentence as the other was just going on about his zodiac sign and how it will be visible in the sky until he hears his name.

Iolas pauses fully, not use to hearing his full name exit his lover's lips unless it was during a more intimate and scandalous situation. So he hides his hesitation with a smile and he answers the blonde with the same tone he just used but extracted with a deeper tone to lighten the mood. "Lucio." The count starts to fidget but just laughs when Iolas mocks his serious tone. "No really, uh... Listen for a second." Iolas' face now turns from curious to worried. " Uh oh. that's a real serious tone. What did you do?" Lucio brushes him off, biting his lip and rubs the back of his neck. He feels so lame doing this, but that's the point.

Lucio stands up straight taking Iolas' hands, looking directly into those red eyes. Something in him wants to run away, but the ring sits heavy in his pocket and he opens his mouth only to close it so he can bring Iolas' cold fingers to his lips. Iolas' however is completely taken aback. His lover has been romantic before but he was much more used to their back a forths of one-upping each other and superficial hyping each other up coupled with nightly flings where he ended up in the blonde's bed. So this sudden tenderness was jarring.

The magician could feel that dark feeling creep to his shoulders that say he shouldn't get his hopes up, that he's happy filling the count's time till he finds a real suitor. Even if Lucio was a temporary General at the palace was still a completely different status then Iolas and Royals don't have court magician as suitors. So he was happy to bid his time with Lucio because even with the teasing and snarky remarks that sometimes hurt Iolas' loved the other man's company, but love doesn't change status. Love doesn't guarantee a happy ending. He knew this from experience and learned his lesson the hard way.

So It was the last thing Iolas' expected when the taller man pulls out the biggest ring the magician has ever seen and gets down on one knee. Iolas' first thought is that he wants to shake his head so he can wake up. Then when air fills his lungs he realizes he is awake and this is happening. More than happening he's been silent for too long but all he can hear is the stinging sound of his fears buzzing in his head. The buzz is deafening and He can see that Lucio is speaking but he can't hear him.

You will just disappoint him. Iolas' thoughts curse. Better yet he'll disappoint you somehow. A shaky breath leaves him and all he can do is blink and look at Lucio with watery eyes. "I-- I'm sorry please can you say that again." Iolas stops and closes his eyes just so he doesn't have to look at the ring that's almost blinding with its meaning.

Lucio's normal wolfish grin falters but only returns once he hears Iolas speak. "I said. We should get hitched, ya know?" Lucio sputters, shit. "Look. Like I was saying we're surrounded by losers, Pet. Who else am I gonna get to match me other than you huh? come on, look at me. Then look at you! we're perfect for each other.. ya know?" Lucio now looks nervous as he speaks. Unable to keep eye contact. ...and.. I love your laugh."

This seems to pull Iolas' from his fears a little even enough to get him to let out a weak laugh. "What? what does that have to do with anything?" Lucio pouts and glares at his lover just a tiny bit. "I love your laugh! and I don't want anyone else to have it. I deserve it, I get you to do it most and I think you owe me. So like.." Lucio ushers Iolas' to the ring, his legs are starting to buckle. "I wouldn't admit this to anyone else but my knees aren't what they use to be so can we--" Iolas stops him with a curt turn, his shoulders shaking.

The blonde stands suddenly, his whole body rigid. This was it. the rejection he warned himself about. He's ruined everything, his heart screams to go back. Iolas is probably laughing at the proposal and Lucio's tacky way of offering himself. It isn't until the sound of a stuffy nose echo through the silent night that Lucio realizes his lover is crying and instantly he steps forward a different kind of fear gripping his heart. " W-wait-- wait, why are you crying? You never cry--" He falters and fidgets his hands around his lover unsure if he wants to be held or not.

Iolas turns finally, his red puffy eyes are turned down in a grimace as they glisten in the dim light. "Yeah, you idiot I never cry and look at what you made me do." His tone is harsh but it's followed by a sad shake that ruins any intention of anger. "Lucio I... I don't know how to do this." Lucio's heart slows but he's thrown for a loop and Iolas can sense his confusion and clears his throat as he wipes his leaking eyes. "No one has ever, wanted me like this before. I don't know if I can-- How do you know you want this? What if I disappoint you? What if you get tired of me and regret ever meeting me? At least if we keep things like before you can just get rid of me if I'm too much and I won't have to--" Lucio stops Iolas this time as he brings his lover close by pulling on his crossed arms.

"You won't have to worry about falling in love?" The blonde answers with his own sense of sadness, his eyes looking down at their feet before meeting with Iolas' who only nods in response. Lucio is a bit thankful that his lover didn't outright say no and is at least contemplating the idea of things. "No I had the same thoughts and honestly I don't know how I'm sure. I just... am." Lucio's normal bravado comes back now that he feels more secure in the conversation. "I know that I love seeing you every day. I know that I love sleeping with you every night. I know that I don't want anyone else to hold you the way I hold you and I know that you feel the same way about me." At that the blonde swallows hoping he isn't wrong. "But mostly I know I don't ever want you to leave. If you were to leave, do you know how fucking boring this place would be? I would set the parlor on fire within minutes of you being gone." The cheeky grin is back and Iolas snorts at the idea and manages a smile as he is now fully embraced by his lover.

Lucio rests his head on the shorter man's head and hums, kissing the top of it. Slowly he pulls Iolas back so he can look down at him. "But it's not just about what I want... you kinda need to want those things too." Now it's Iolas turn to nervously look away and slowly as the shorter man's courage builds he tights his grip in Lucio's jacket and more tears fall down his face as the realization comes crashing onto him that he'd do absolutely anything to be with the man in front of him forever. Before He can answer he shoves his face into Lucio's jacket rubbing his head back and forth on the soft fabric. "You moron-- Of course I want all that."

The blonde can't resist the urge to tease the other man however and laughs to himself. "I'm sorry, could you say that again I couldn't hear you from inside my jacket." Iolas hits the taller man's chest with a laugh before he goes to wipe his damp eyes yet again. "You know for a fact that I said YES-- urgh, gods look at what you did to my make searing the hell am I going to fix this now--" Iolas' whining is stopped short by his lover picking him up in a searing kiss that continues as the blonde twirls them both. With a firm grip on Iolas' was it Lucio Looks up at the magician with a smile that could blind the gods. "I wanna hear you say it." Iolas rolls his eyes, a large pout crosses the silver-haired man's lips as he kicks his legs from his newfound lifted position.

"I have zero ideas what you're talking about--" Iolas protests but Lucio shakes his head. "Say it or you are never leaving this gazebo." Iolas is about to rebuttal but the look in Lucio's eyes is that yes he is serious. Iolas' expression softens, even if it's despite himself. "Of course I'll marry you, LuLu." Lucio bounces in his spot and spins the both of them once again but this time continues to spin around the whole gazebo till Iolas can't help but laugh and struggle against the crazy man holding him. "Stop-- Lulu Stop we're gonna--" but it's too late. Lucio's legs trip over themselves and with zero grace they both tumble onto the hardwood floor.

Iolas rolls onto his back and groans, dizzy and sore his eyes dart over to the man beside him who is just as dazed. slowly Iolas entwines their hands with a smile and Lucio is about to kiss his lover's fingers before he remembers the ring. The blonde springs forward, getting up like the fall meant absolutely nothing but Iolas takes his time sitting up as his lover fumbles to find the ring he dropped.

Soon as it's found Lucio slides over, the scraping sound of the fabric of the taller man's pants on the hardwood makes the magician giggle. Iolas has to give the other man sheer points for his enthusiasm. Pompously Iolas sticks his left hand out, to which Lucio plays along and kisses the other man's ring finger dramatically before slipping the large ring onto Iolas' hand.

Carefully Iolas' holds his hand out to the light and observes the sheer size of the ring and can't help but grin. Lucio practically radiates waves of anticipation on his lover's thoughts "Was this the biggest ring they had?" Iolas wiggles his fingers, acting as if he's unimpressed. Lucio simply feeds back into him. "How dare you." Lucio sneers, pulling Iolas into his lap as he sits, unable to be on his knees any longer. "I had this one custom ordered. Not only is it the biggest ring in stores, but it's also the biggest wedding ring, period." He speaks into the shorter man's neck before he kisses it, The count's tone never faltering while he speaks. This sends Iolas into a giggle fit. He knows for a fact that this ring physically cannot be the biggest but another part of him can see Lucio putting up a fight with store owners about the pitful size of their rings to the point where he just orders them to make him a whole new size.

"Of course, I knew my Lulu would only get me the best. He not capable of anything less." Lucio preens in the praise and Iolas strokes the back of his fingers against his lover's face. For a moment they stay like that, both of them processing what exactly just happened and what this means for their future. Iolas is the first to break the silence with a soft hum as he presses against Lucio's chest. "Thank you... Lucio." the taller man responds by nuzzling his nose into the shorter man's hair with a confused hmm. "I never thought I could do this... but for the first time, I'm not scared." Lucio smiles at that. and squeezes his lover in his arms.

"Good. We can both be fearless together."

💋 Who is the best kisser? (if you’d like write a short smooch scene!)

(I WILL TRY MY BEST TO KEEP THIS SHORT SINCE I JUST WROTE YOU A WHOLE FIC ON ACCIDENT ON MY LAST ONE)

The sound of wood creaking fills the otherwise quiet room as Lucio pushes his lover against the doors of his chambers. Lucio places on hand on the hip of the man under him and huffs a breath through his nose that leads to a soft moan as their lips bump against each other awkwardly for a second. Iolas snickers within the brief pause and pulls Lucio down by his collar. Now controlling their embrace the shorter man pushes the blonde backward and with a searing bite, he slams the count onto the disgustingly huge bed placed in the middle of his room. Breathless Lucio stares up at Iolas his bottom lip red and puffy from the bite, which only makes Lucio's slurry grin look even more dangerously attractive.

Iolas steps in between his lover's spread legs and uses one of his hands to tip the taller man's head back with a grunt. Lucio's hands wander over the man before him, knowing his place he doesn't try to switch their positions. He loves when Iolas gets pushy he knew if anyone could match him in greediness it would be his lover. Iolas however preoccupies himself with tracing his thumb over Lucio's red bottom lip till his nail presses a little too hard and draws just a few drops of blood to the surface of his lover's pale skin.

At the sight of this Iolas captures The count's lips once against and shamelessly sucks on the blood he just conjured. the kiss devolves as Iolas holds Lucio's head still with the grip on his hair and once the magician pulls back Lucio's face flushes at the sight of his blood dripping from his lover's lips. Lucio's voice comes out breathy and needy as he pulls against Iolas' grip on his hair. "Do that again."

#love asks #ask box #please read this i think its sO CUTE i would love feed back--#I AM SO SORRY I WROTE A WHOLE ASS FIC FOR THIS HA #the arcana mc #oc apprentice #lucio x apprentice #lucio x mc #my writing

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