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dulcesiabits · 3 years

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a minor inconvenience.

summary: When the prefect falls sick for a day, all the first years rush to Ramshackle to take care of Yuu.

notes: sickfic, fluff, friendship, drabble, Yuu + first years, they/them pronouns for yuu, mentions of other twst characters (silver, lilia, malleus, leona, ruggie, vil, rook, riddle, trey, cater), 1523 words

a/n: Letting a sixteen year old child beat up your traumatized students with their weird pet cat and morally dubious friends is not therapy, Crowley!!

Help! Yuu’s dying!

Honestly, in hindsight, letting a panicked Grim (who didn’t even have opposable thumbs, how the heck did he figure out how to use their phone?) text the first year group chat was not Yuu’s best idea.

In their defense, however, they were wracked with chills, a sore throat, a horrible cough and a runny nose, so they weren’t exactly in the best mindset to make smart decisions.

And to be fair, Grim was just doing it out of genuine worry-- he couldn’t exactly go to class without his partner, since they each made up half a student. When he had asked how they were doing, Yuu could only moan a “IfeellikeI’mdying.” Grim, who didn’t have more than two intelligent thoughts even on a good day, assumed the worst, and fished out Yuu’s phone.

It was all done in good faith! There was nothing to be mad about. Grim, who was self-absorbed, worried over them! Even if he disguised it as a “If my number one henchman dies, I’ll have no one to buy me tuna.”

That was what Yuu was trying to convince themself of when their friends, Ace, Duece, Jack, Epel and Sebek, broke down Ramshackle’s rusty, creaky door, magic pens out, worked up in a lather, certain Yuu was on death’s door.

It was cute that their friends were so worried! No, it didn’t bother Yuu whatsoever that they would need to scrounge up the money to get the door fixed! It didn’t make their headache any better, but it was fine. They were fine.

Still, they couldn’t stop themself from shooting a sharp glare at Ace and Deuce, who tried not to look Yuu directly in the eye. Deuce carried homework that Yuu had missed, and Ace had a lunchbox from Trey.

Jack was holding a bag full of medicine and medical supplies from Sam’s, his tail drooping (Yuu forgave Jack on the spot).

Epel held a hastily packed container of homemade chicken noodle soup, which smelled so tantalizing that Yuu decided the boy could do no wrong.

Sebek held a questionable vial of medicine (?) that he swore up and down was a classic fae remedy to any malady. The burbling purple bubbles and bitter smell did not convince Yuu that it would be helpful.

Grim was sulking on the end of their bed, loafing with his paws tucked underneath him like an ordinary house cat. “My henchman can’t get better if you keep bothering them,” he grumbled when everyone had trooped in.

“You’re the one who invited them over,” Yuu said sternly, before looking back at their friends and adding, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“We thought you were dying,” Ace said immediately.

“Don’t be mad, Yuu,” Deuce added. “We’ll help you fix the door.”

“I can set it back in frame,” Epel said thoughtfully. “I’ve seen my papaw-- my grandpa fix doors before. So I should be able to do it... I think.”

“Enough of that, human. Drink this,” Sebek bellowed, shoving his vial under Yuu’s nose.

Yuu shrank back into their pillows, trying not to make a face. Now that they were closer to the vial, the strong odor of melting plastic assaulted their nose. “Thanks, Sebek. I appreciate it. I think I’ll be okay, though.”

“What?! Master Lilia himself prepared this brew, and you would refuse--” Sebek began, just as Grim piped up.

“Huh? Are you trying to make Yuu feel worse--”

“I think what Yuu is saying, Sebek,” Jack interrupted, as Deuce hastily covered Grim’s mouth, “Is that they need to eat something first. It’s hard to eat medicine on an empty stomach.”

Sebek frowned, but lowered his arm. Yuu would have hugged Jack on the spot. “I see! Well, as soon as you have some food, you should drink this. Master Lilia promises that it will cure you right away!”

“That’s great.” Yuu made a mental note to get someone to dump it down the sink when Sebek wasn’t looking. They appreciated the thought, they really did. But they knew what Lilia’s cooking tasted like, and they highly doubted fae medicine would work on humans.

“We’ll go prepare the food,” Ace said quickly, giving a side eye to the vial. “Let’s go, Epel. You too, Sebek.”

The three boys left, leaving Jack and Deuce to fuss over Yuu.

“This is all the homework you missed,” Deuce said earnestly, dumping some books on Yuu’s night stand. “If you need any help, you can just ask us. I might not be that helpful, but I’ll do my best!”

Jack held out his plastic bag. “Here. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I thought that if you were in trouble, well... you would need as many of these as possible.”

Yuu took the bag from Jack, gingerly sifting through the contents. “Thanks, guys. But, wow, it really looks like you cleaned out Sam’s whole store, huh?”

“Well, Leona heard that something was going on, and Ruggie came with me to go shopping for supplies using Leona’s money. He was the one who suggested we get a bunch of things. He might have bought something for himself on the side, though.”

Huh. The idea that Leona and Ruggie, people who usually only did things if they benefited from it, cared about their wellbeing was touching.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Deuce said. “Trey made you food! Riddle helped with some, and Cater said to feel better soon! He said you definitely can’t miss the next Unbirthday party!”

Grim perked up at the mention of food, drifting closer so he was nestled near Yuu’s legs. “Perfect! I was getting hungry!”

“It’s not for you,” Deuce scolded.

“Eh, it’s fine. I don’t mind sharing.” Yuu smiled, pulling out fever medicine from the bag Jack had handed them. “Hey, can someone help get me a glass of water?”

“I’ll do it,” Jack said immediately, heading out with the fever medicine in hand.

Deuce gingerly sat on the edge of Yuu’s bed. “Class wasn’t as fun without you and Grim. Even Ace was moping.”

“Hah! Of course you would miss the great Grim.”

“Don’t get used to it, though” Yuu informed Deuce. “I’ll feel better again soon. What would you two do without me?”

“We probably wouldn’t get in as much trouble, for one,” Ace said suddenly, his head popping up from the side of the door frame. Marching in, he plopped by Deuce’s side on the bed. “Scoot over.”

Deuce did so with a grumble as the rest of Yuu’s friends walked into the room. Epel was carefully balancing a tray full of soup, sliced fruit, and sandwiches. Jack and Sebek followed, the former holding a glass of water, who handed it to Yuu.

Yuu drank it in a few gulps as Sebek watched them with furrowed eyebrows.

“I can’t seem to find my medicine, human,” he boomed. “It is a shame. It seems I must nurse you to health myself. Rest assured! You are in capable hands!”

“That is kind of the reason we’re here,” Epel muttered under his breath. Then, more loudly, “Here. I was going to make you soup by myself, but Vil saw me. When he asked what it was for, and I told him I did it because I was worried for you, he decided to make his own... healthy version of it. There should be.. lots of nutrients in it, he said. Rook also showed up and added some... meat... I think.”

Homemade soup from Vil Schoenheit himself? Yuu could sell this stuff for major money. They were honestly surprised so many of their upperclassmen cared about their health. They always seemed to get on the dorm leaders’ nerves with the trouble they got into. So it was nice to see so many people to worry over them.

“Oh, yes. My young master and master Lilia wish you to feel better soon! So you absolutely must, or else! I also wish the same.” Sebek’s cheeks pinken at his own words. “So does Silver, I suppose,” he added as an afterthought.

Yuu gingerly picked up a sandwich. It was easy to tell which of the food had been made by Riddle. The sandwiches were sloppily cut and the ingredients uneven. The fruit slices were lumpy, with bits of peel stuck on them. Still, the image of Riddle, normally so intimidating and stern, fumbling over making a simple sandwich was so out of character they almost laughed.

Grim picked up a sandwich, humming happily at the taste. Epel and Jack were talking about how to fix the door. Deuce slapped Ace’s hand away from trying to steal a slice of fruit. Sebek was brushing off the drawer, exclaiming at how dusty it was, and how it wasn’t healthy.

Yuu smiled, relaxing into the bed and biting into a sandwich. It was nice to know that despite being an outsider who wasn’t even from this world, they had found a group of good friends. They were going to be okay.

(Well, that appreciation would last only until they discovered that Ace, Sebek and Epel had made a mess in the kitchen.)

#liya writes #twisted wonderland #yuu #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #twst #twst yuu #grim #twst grim

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quothethemenevermore · 3 years

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I'm sorry for being absent for months, but to make it up I got a new hyperfixation and wound up writing a new story:

Warning: contains soft, safe vore and mentions of panicking.

It came to no surprise after everything that happened that Gordon was a little jumpy when it came to certain things. The dark, gunshots, sudden loud noises. Hell, sometimes even the sweet voice made him jump if it was shrill enough. Even as months passed and Benrey wasn't acting as antagonistic as they had before, it still caught him by surprise.

So of course, when a sudden high note rang through the house, he grew wary.

He was folding laundry when it happened, and he jumped, the fabric falling out of his hands. Immediately after he registered what it had been, he swore.

"Dammit, what did I tell you about being so loud with that?"

Sometimes he knew his roommate couldn't help it. The person was an eldritch alien being, after all, and he didn't know everything about them. But there were a lot of times they would do it just to get a kick out of him.

So when he didn't get a response, his worry only grew. "Benrey?" He called, waiting for a moment to see if he would receive some kind of answer. But like before, there was silence.

He picked up the shirt from where it had fallen onto the bed and tossed it back into the basket before turning to go check their room.

It wasn't completely quiet in the house, the music from whatever game they had been playing before the shriek- it sounded similar to minecraft's soundtracks- rang softly through the hall.

It was only interrupted by Gordon knocking on the door. "Benrey?"

Usually, he got a response, whether it was a taunt or even them no clipping through the door to answer them, there was hardly ever a time in which they didn't at least acknowledge that Gordon was looking for them. But this time, the silence only continued. Anxiety welled in his being, making his chest feel heavy.

If Benrey was playing a prank on him with this, he was going to kick their ass.

He opened the door, ready to… Well, he wasn't sure what exactly to expect but he was sure he'd be prepared enough to handle it. As the door swung open, he was met with the music getting louder, being closer to the source, a few fading orbs of teal sweet voice, and a missing alien.

Teal, what did teal mean again?

Tommy thought it would be a good idea for him to make a general list of the sweet voice colors and meanings after agreeing to let Benrey be his roommate. If he remembered correctly, teal had a few meanings, and the only one that made a small amount of sense to their disappearance was surprise.

Benrey could teleport, so maybe they forgot they agreed to do something and got reminded? But why wouldn't they tell him before they left? Did something happen? Gordon's mind was running, throwing together different scenarios, each one worse than the previous.

There was a thud, not exactly loud, but enough to get his attention. That, and a shadow suddenly covering his room through the window. He halfway debated going to find something to defend himself before looking, but if it were just a bird he'd feel silly. It wouldn't explain the shadow, but.. whatever. There was a plate of glass between him and whatever caused the thud, so at least he could run. He quickly walked over and pulled the curtain back, finding… nothing. Well, not nothing, but it certainly wasn't the view of the yard it had once been. Instead, it was a solid sheet of dark blue. Almost like the color of Benrey's hoodie.

And just like that, his mind jumped to the worst.

They grew back to the size they were in Xen, they got bored of being under the radar and they're trying to attack them again-

Okay Gordon, breathe.

Why would they choose now of all times to do it? Especially out in the open like this? There was probably a good explanation for this, if he could even get one from Benrey.

If he could even go talk to Benrey at this height.

The thought of it made him shake, he couldn't deny that. Yea, they changed and weren't as bad to deal with, but they had also tried to kill the whole science team, not to mention the ambush.

Taking a shaky breath, he pulled his phone out. If Benrey was too much at the moment, then maybe their friend could help. Tommy knew more about Benrey than any of them.

G- Hey Tommy, I've got a question.

T- Hi, mister Freeman! What do you need?

G- Okay, so do you know why Benrey would change their size?

T- well, their human form isn't their real form, so sometimes they'll change their form to fit that form better.

Well, that made sense, he guessed. But why the sweet voice?

G- Okay, but they also left a trail of teal when they left. With a really high pitched noise. Does that mean anything different because of their shifting?

Gordon wasn't sure he liked how long the three dots played on the screen, appearing and disappearing as if Tommy was re-writing what he wrote.

Finally, after one last time, the message appeared.

T- It might have come as a surprise? It's instinct for them to be in their real form, and sometimes they might forget to do it before it takes over.

G- I guess. Thanks, Tommy.

T- No problem! Are you going to talk to them?

G- At this height? Probably not.

T- I think you should. I think they'll appreciate it, at least try to! :)

G- I guess.

Well, he knew Tommy probably wouldn't fault him for not going through with it. With a sigh, he shut his phone off and put it back in his pocket.

He guessed it couldn't exactly hurt to try. And maybe have a long talk about what all to expect from his roommate, because they had said nothing about growing since Xen.

He made it to the front door before he hesitated again. He didn't think Benrey would try to attack him again, but what if they did? He was completely defenseless this time, there would be nothing to stop them from actually killing him. He shivered at the thought. But, he told Tommy he'd try, and he was this far already. He could probably stay distanced far enough that he could see if Benrey was going to try anything.

With that in mind, he steeled himself and walked out the door, rounding the corner of the house only to falter in his steps.

They were huge. For just a second, he saw the dark red chamber of Xen, and his breath caught in his throat.

No, this wasn't Xen. This is his backyard, bright and cheery compared to, plus Benrey didn't have a hoodie before Xen. He was fine, they weren't trying to kill him now. He repeated that, and breathed with the numbers, until he finally felt steady again. Within that time, the alien had yet to see him, their head leaning against the roof, faced away from him.

"Hey!"

That got a quick shrill note of teal sweet voice before their head turned to meet his gaze.

Did their eyes always glow that bright? "Oh, hey. Sup."

"Not much, other than you being absolutely fucking humongous. Seriously, man, how many more abilities are you hiding?"

"Wanna find out?"

He was about to open his mouth to decline his offer, on instinct, but he stopped himself. Benrey was really just offering to have this conversation? No fussing?

"Sure, man. Tell me what else you can do so you don't fucking scare me again."

"Wha- you got scared? Lil' chicken hat?" A smirk stretched the corners of their mouth. "Fuck off. You can't just grow big suddenly and not expect people to freak out. Nobody here is that fucking big." "Yea, lameass humans stuck all tiny and shit." There was something else said quietly, but their voice was rumbling as is and it was completely muffled. Not that Gordon really cared at that moment, he just wanted to know what else to expect from the alien before him.

"Whatever. What even caused you to grow? Tommy said it was instincts." They seemed to freeze for a split second, not answering long enough to swallow back the sweet voice trying to escape.

"Yea. Kinda sucks, being trapped in a small bod all the time." That seemed slightly rushed, if Gordon was being honest. "Well, what other instincts do you get? Kinda need to be aware of this stuff if you're living with me, dude."

If they weren't trying to hide anything before, they certainly were now. He watched their shoulders hunch slightly, their eyes leave him and, of course, sweet voice leaking from their mouth. It.. was still teal?

"Come on, you can't be that surprised about me asking that."

That little pinprick of worry made itself right back at home in Gordon when instead of a snarky remark, Benrey sat in silence for a long moment. "S' not that teal."

Okay, maybe Benrey was still trying to fuck with him. His shoulders dropped only by a fraction, though.

"That makes no sense. The only other teal there would be other than with green is hungry. And it's not like you can't go find something to eat at that size."

"S' not that hungry, either. You can go back inside, I'll shrink down later."

Wow, was that not concerning at all.

But Gordon couldn't- no, wouldn't just leave after a remark like that, because honestly? Out of all the weird things he's heard Benrey say, that's one of the things that he can't puzzle out. He'd reason that the giant wasn't hungry at all, but the way they're acting is really throwing him off.

"What do you mean, 'not that hungry'?" He had taken a few steps forward during the course of their conversation, but when Benrey turned to look at him, pupils blown wide and an almost- okay, a hungry look on their face-, he regretted being so close. His heart twisted painfully, and he had to fight with the lump in his throat so he could speak.

"Um.. whatcha planning there, Benrey?" He took a step backwards slowly, hoping that it wouldn't trigger any sort of other instinct into seeing him as prey. Anymore than it already is, apparently.

Benrey blinked, and his pupils shrank. "Whuh? M' not planning anything. You're the one who asked, idiot." Okay, insults definitely not helping. An icy feeling crept down his spine as he took another step back. "Okay, so why won't you explain all.. this?" He waved a hand towards the alien. "What does any of this mean? And why hide it? You didn't really hide any of your other abilities."

He could distinctly remember one of his first conversations with them being that they admitted to not being human. Didn’t really hide the teleporting or respawning either.

"Yea but most of those I can control. Plus, it's private information, why would I share that with someone who doesn't have their passport?" He purposely ignored most of the words that they used.

"Because I'm trying to get past all of the weird shit but if I don't know what the hell I'm dealing with, there's no way to? I'm making an effort to learn about you, man. The least you can do is help." He huffed, standing his ground. At this point, he was more annoyed than scared.

At least he's not moving away anymore.

Out of anything to happen with their instincts, it had to be Gordon to find him. Just their luck. And they could tell he was getting scared of them. They couldn't blame him, but it didn't make them feel any better about the situation.

"It's really not that big a deal, just something common for my species. Doesn't involve you."

"Hate to break it to you, but since you're living with me, it kinda does." "Doesn't mean it won't freak you out." "Fine, does Tommy know, then?" "..No."

His brow quirked, and at his current miniscule height, it was a comedic sight. If it weren't such a serious conversation, they would have laughed. As it was, a thought crossed their mind.

Gordon said he talked to Tommy earlier, didn't he? What all did he spill? It didn't seem like Gordon knew about the storing thing, so maybe Tommy saved them. Or doomed them to have to explain themself. Dammit.

"So if I called him, right now, he wouldn't know what you were talking about?" "Don't do that. Tommy's busy. With, uh.. dog stuff."

"I'm pretty sure he can multitask." With that, his hand moved- at his size, it was hard to see what he was doing, but it didn't have to take Sherlock to deduct what he was planning. Without thinking, their hand moved faster.

"Wh- dude, what the fuck! Put me down!"

Oh, he was in their hand now, curled in a loose fist. Closer than he had been before.

At this height, he was extremely fragile compared to them. A single false move could end horribly. The urge to protect him only grew stronger. Plus, it had been a long time since Gordon had been so small compared to them. They could feel his legs kicking at the bottom of their hand, and something fluttered inside his palm.

He couldn't tell if the rapid pulse was from the humans hands or his heart. That was what cleared their mind enough to think past their instinct. After a moment of thinking, they figured the human was smart enough to not try and jump off their hand, and turned their hand as they unfurled it, causing the man to clumsily fall into his open palm. "Whoops."

It took a moment for him to recover.

He hadn't actually thought that Benrey would make a grab for him, and for a solid minute his brain couldn't think past a single thought.

Panic. Fight or flight finally kicked in, and he squirmed to the best of his ability against the hold on him. He was still frantic to escape, the almost blank stare they gave him making him extremely uneasy, but he couldn't help but note how gentle the hold had been. It didn't hurt, nor did it make it hard to breathe. Even so, it didn't make it okay, especially when the only apology he got was being tossed onto their open hand with a 'whoops.'

"Dont fucking 'whoops' me! You can't just grab people without their permission! What were you thinking?!" A shrug. He didn't fight the yell in frustration that bubbled out of him.

"Well, don't make such a big deal out of things, lil.. fussman." "Big deal out of what? Wanting you to not hide shit from me?" "'M only hiding what you don't wanna find out, man. Protecting you."

"I'm asking to know what you're talking about! If I don't like the answer, then that's on me! This shouldn't have even gotten to this point, dude! Just tell me already!"

"Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you." He wasn't prepared to be lifted higher to Benrey's face, stumbling slightly with a yelp. They waited for him to get adjusted before explaining, now at a close enough point that they could easily see the human's face.

Being so close to them, Gordon could see the hesitation in their eyes before they started.

"The sweet voice means hungry, but not hungry for food. We have a thing where we can hold smaller things we care for in us, like an extreme hug." It seemed they were going to say more, but they ended with a (thankfully soft) trail of sweet voice. This one was a pearl-like color, which he had learned meant worry.

They waited anxiously while Gordon processed what they said.

"Wait, holding people in you.. so.. you eat the people you care about?" Ah, there it was. The panic had resurfaced. "Yea, and?" "And? That kills people!" "What? No, it doesn't."

"What, is your species incapable of digesting things? Because I'm not buying that shit after seeing half the things you eat, man." The human was figiting, and Benrey feared that he might throw rational thought out the window and jump off anyway. Their other hand came up, close enough to help if he tried anything. It didn't help that their mind had other ideas to keep him from running.

"No, they don't go to the same place food goes. They go to a different pouch for holding friends."

Right, Benrey's a shapeshifter. Can't forget that.

"Okay. So you have the ability to safely eat people that are close to you. And that's an instinct thing?" They nodded, and he noticed that their pupils had dilated again.

Wait.. do they want to eat me?

He must have had a hard time hiding the fear, because their eyes softened after a moment. "Won't do it if you don't want to. But you're all tiny and vulnerable, easy to hurt, and I'm not. Can protect you, that's what the instinct's about."

Oh. That would make sense, like taking care of their young. But even then, the idea of being eaten, even if he knew it was safe, was just a little unnerving.

Not to mention the fact that their size was still reminding them of Black Mesa, and everything that had come with it.

Their gaze trailed Gordon's hand as it rubbed against the scar above his prosthetic subconsciously, his eyes starting to glaze as his mind drifted. They didn't need to think hard about where his mind was going.

"Don't have to do it, dude. Here." They started lowering their hand to the ground, slowly to not make him panic. The sudden jolt brought him back, and he looked up at Benrey.

Their eyes were never good at betraying emotion. Usually, it was their sweet voice that told him how the eldritch was feeling. At that moment, though, he could see concern.

Genuine concern. About him.

"I- hang on." The hand stopped abruptly, throwing him off balance again, but he had a bigger topic on his mind than the slight inconvenience.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with doing that, but I'm not… afraid of you because of it. Like I said, I asked to know, so it's on me if I didn't like it.." Oh, he was rambling. He tended to do that when he was worked up, and this was quite a situation to get worked up about. He was only interrupted by a quick note from above, followed by the smell of blue raspberry.

"Need to calm down. Getting all fussy again."

Despite the flood of calm through his body, he couldn't help the huff of annoyance. "I'm tryin' to make you feel better, dick." "And 'm fine, I'm a great cool. I'll shrink down a little later and be back inside. Just gotta wait it out."

"And you're just going to sit out here. Alone."

"Yea?"

With that, Gordon got himself situated on the hand that held him and took a deep breath. "Well, not while I'm here. I'm not gonna just leave you alone to your thoughts."

He got bbb'd in response, before he was lifted back to where he was before.

...their teeth definitely weren't that blunt earlier, he was certain about that. "Thats, uh, on you then. Like you said earlier."

"You said you wouldn't do it without my permission." "You never outright refused, either."

Didn't he?

Now that he thought about it.. he hadn't said no. Just that he didn't know how he would handle it. Their pupils had bloomed to cover most of their eyes, and focused solely on him. It made him feel uneasy, but it's not like they could stop it.

"I guess I didn't…" He swallowed, hard, as Benrey awaited a specific phrase. He could back down. He would probably get set on the ground and see them in a few hours.

Or he could pull himself together and try to help them settle the instinct for a while. It really didn't seem like they wanted to hurt him, otherwise they would have by now.

"Just how much would this help?" "A lot."

As rare as it occurred, he felt like they were telling the truth.

"I… fuck it. Why not? Just.. don't ignore me. If I want out, let me out." "Well, yea." They said it like it was the most obvious thing, and he knew that was the best agreement he'd get. "Okay. Ready as I'll ever be, I guess. Not exactly what I thought I'd do today, but.." He trailed off as he was brought closer to the mouth before him, and God, just how tiny was he compared to Benrey right now? The height comparison had always been off, but in Xen he was kinda focused on not dying. Now, he couldn't help the thought. He was tiny.

Probably big enough to fit in their mouth, though.

He wasn't sure what to expect from this, but he should have seen the tongue coming. As is, it got him from his torso up, warm and large. He hadn't expected it, but it hadn't exactly scared him. When they pulled back, he grumbled as his vision remained blurred.

Fucker licked my glasses. I should have taken them off. His hair was also starting to stick to his forehead, wet with saliva. He removed the offending frames and held them to the side, rubbing his face with his sleeve. "How about a warning, next time? So I can take these off before you fucking ruin them." His answer was a chuckle, and he felt two trunk-like fingers gently close over his hand, taking the glasses out of his grasp. "I'll just take them. Problem solved." "Problem solved except I'm fucking blind." "'S not like you'll need to see where you're going." "Keep fucking around and I'll just go back inside."

"Wha- no, man, come on. Don't leave, please?" He sighed, imagining the puppy eyes they were making through the blurred shapes he could see. "Fine. Let's do this."

"'Kay."

And then his legs were enveloped in warmth. His hands gripped at the palm underneath him, startled at the sudden change. As he tensed, everything stilled around him. He took a minute to gather himself, then gave a nod to continue.

He was pulled in to his waist next, but it didn't startle him as badly this time. In fact, compared to how warm it was in Benrey's mouth, it was kinda chilly out here. His hands had just left their palm to wrap around the part of his torso that remained out, when he felt their tongue curl under him and he was pulled in the rest of the way.

There was a soft click as their teeth closed around him, but it was barely registered compared to everything else that Gordon was bombarded with.

It was hot, almost uncomfortably so, and completely dark, and there was saliva soaking into his clothes. It seemed like the muscle beneath him was restless, shifting around him as he gathered his bearings. Finally, he managed to get himself settled on his knees, hearing a squelching noise as his hands settled into the flesh beneath him. It pulled a grimace from him.

He could hear them breathing, but the loudest sound by far was the rumbling noise he could pinpoint below him.

Was that.. purring? That shouldn't surprise him, honestly. Just another thing to add to the list of things he's finding out about his roommate. Still, it hadn't really clicked until now just how much the alien was enjoying this. Just how badly did they want to do this?

As he collected himself, it seemed that Benrey was getting impatient. He couldn't tell at this point if their instincts were rushing them or if they were purposely fucking with him as he was flipped onto his back with no warning. "Hey!" It hadn't been a yell that needed a retort, but it got a snort out of the alien regardless.

That bitch.

He was pushed and flipped around some more, getting more soaked in saliva as they progressed. He would complain more, his clothes hanging heavy on his frame and his hair plastered to his face and neck, but he knew that for what was coming up it was necessary. Unless they could also handle that via shape-shifting, in which he would be pissed if he found out. Finally, he was gently pressed against their pallet, and a hum echoed around him, rumbling his surroundings and echoing through his body.

He took that as a warning for what was next, and couldn't help the sudden racing of his heart. He couldn't exactly say this was anything like he was expecting, though. If it weren't such a weird concept as a human, he could even see how their species could find this comforting. It was warm, and he couldn’t really deny how nice it would feel being so close to someone he cared about.

…Yea, he accepted at this point that he didn't hate Benrey anymore, or ever really wanted to to begin with. They were good company when they weren't trying to escape and survive.

"I think I'm good, go ahead." He called out, receiving another hum in response, and closed his eyes.

His body started slipping backwards as gravity shifted around him, and he took a deep breath to calm himself right before Benrey swallowed.

His feet were suddenly ensnared, and before he could even register that, another swallow echoed around him and the rest of his body followed suit. He wasn't sure if he could hurt them, so he tried not to move. Still, he couldn't help his figiting as his breath started to run out. Out of anything his thoughts tried to provide for this part, it wasn't nearly as bad. It was kind of a tight fit, and being forced down was a bizarre feeling alone, but it wasn't like he was being crushed. It seemed more like a gentle kneading. He wondered if Benrey was purposely being gentle or if that, too, was a species thing.

All in all, if he could actually breathe, it probably wouldn't be as bad.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted as he jolted to a stop. For a split second, he felt nothing but panic, thinking he had gotten stuck, when the muscles beneath where his feet had stopped opened and he was suddenly forced down, landing a little harsher than he wanted to.

The first thing he noticed was that the air was somehow fresh as he quickly refilled his lungs. It had a sharp, fruity smell to it, not unlike their sweet voice. The second thing, also likely related to the sweet voice, was that Benrey had lied about not needing to see where he was going.

The chamber he had landed in was not dark like he expected, but lit up with a faint teal glow.

Actually, if he focused, he could see other colors too, like happy yellow and even a little pink. It probably would have looked prettier if it wasn't so damn blurred.

"Wow…" he couldn't stop the word from escaping, as he continued to look around in awe. This… was definitely not what he was expecting from this.

The chamber itself was still slick, likely had to be, but it was also soft. His hand sunk into the floor beneath him and he was reminded of memory foam as he lifted it and watched the flesh slowly rise back into place. The glow was not so intense it hurt to look at, and it was comfortably warm.

"So…" he jumped when Benrey's voice rumbled from around him. "How are you liking the extreme cuddles?"

"Can you hear me from in here?" Gordon yelled back. "Yea. Hear you loud and clear, little too close to not be able to."

"Yea, okay." "So.. is this okay?" A new color joined the mirage, a lavenderish-white once again. "Dude, this is fine. It's still weird, but… not that bad."

He could hear the grin in their voice. "Yea? Cool." And then they were purring again, and Gordon smiled. "Glad you're feeling better."

The glow seemed to get brighter where he applied pressure, he noticed. He ran his hand against the wall, watching as the trail his hand left got brighter, and feeling as the purring got louder, rumbling the entire chamber. For a moment, he debated finding out how loud he could get them to purr, but decided that would be better for another time. For now, he still wanted to learn about this.

"Hey, I have some questions."

The purring got quieter, but didn't stop fully, distorting their voice slightly. "Shoot." "Is this where your sweet voice is made?"

"Nope. Got another pouch for that. Just connected the two." "Okay. How is the air breathable in here?"

"Friend pouch's connected to airways. Filters the air like lungs do." "Wouldn't it have just been easier to connect it to your lungs instead of having two organs filtering air?"

"Came that way." "So there's some things you can't change by shapeshifting?"

"Nah, I could but it's too much work. Have to figure out how to safely do it and stuff. S' why my human form matches yours. Easier than trying to figure out where I can make things function."

He nodded, taking in the information. "Okay, I think that's all I got. What now?"

"Uh, you could take a nap. I'd be normal when you wake up, let you out before I shrink." "I don't know if I can sleep in here, man." "Wanna try?"

It was pretty comfortable, he wouldn't lie. But there was one more thing he wanted to make certain of, a final fear he wanted to put to rest. "What if I want out?" "Like, now?"

"Yea." There was a huff of disappointment from above, but it was quickly followed with "'Kay, hold on."

So Gordon waited to see how he would be taken out. He figured that Benrey would just spit him back up, and tried to mentally prepare himself for the squeezing again.

He wasn't prepared to see a giant hand clip through the wall, an undignified squeak escaping him as it came towards him.

Like before, it gently took him into a loose fist before pulling out of the wall, without a single indication that the hand had even slipped through the walls of flesh and muscle. Before he could pull his thoughts together about that, he was set on the ground and not a moment after Benrey was back to his normal 5'3.

It was… jarring to see the alien that had just held him and eaten him alive be shorter than him again.

"So…" he started awkwardly, unsure what to even say about the situation, before the air quickly reminded him of how soaked he was. "I need a shower. And I think we're going to order food tonight. I don't feel like cooking." They nodded. "Yea. Okay." As the two started back towards the house, Gordon stopped at the door. "Can you grab me some towels? Don't want to walk in the house sopping wet."

"Yea.. and, um…" they trailed off, looking away with a small hum of pink sweet voice escaping their mouth. "Thanks for doing that. Helped a lot." "Yea, no problem, man. Thanks for letting me out and not just ignoring me." He finished with a snort at the offended look he received. "Told you I would listen." When they only received a laugh in return, they huffed and turned to go get the towels he asked for.

As he waited, he mulled over all the stuff he learned about his roommate today. It was certainly not how he thought today was going to go, but he found that ...he didn't mind too bad.

He wouldn't mind if he found Benrey in need of some "extreme cuddles" again.

#non fatal vore #sfw vore #soft vore #hlvoreai #g/t vore

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Mine

5. Draw me like one of your French girls

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.3k

At this point, I’m seriously considering commissioning my own fanart.

It all started the next morning at our first press release. Somebody had the bright idea to show me some fanart that’s been rolling in the past few weeks of a certain k-pop rapper and I. Not gonna lie...we look good together.

Too good.

Then again, everything about Min Yoongi has seemed pretty good since I woke up to a couple more texts from him this morning. I passed out after his late-night/early morning apology, but he sent another text not long after.

4:32 MYG: So does this mean I’m forgiven? Bong-cha made it sound like you enjoy holding grudges.

9:02 MYG: Morning. I hope everything goes well with you today...is it alright if I keep texting you?

9:02 MYG: Just so I can keep tabs on everything. I don’t want this to get too out of hand for you.

Obviously the poor man is just as worried about all of this as I am. I couldn’t help but give a sleepy chuckle when I woke up to his messages.

So far, I’ve done a wonderful job of ignoring how nice it felt to wake up to a good morning text.

I’ve also done a great job at keeping calm and breezing past any weird questions from the current press conference I’m in. That is, until a Korean reporter (I have a hunch they’re from Dispatch) pipes up not only with a question, but with visual aids!

“Cara, do you mind if I ask you a question? Would you like a translator?”

Reminding myself to be gracious and kind, I shake my head. “Go ahead. I should be alright without a translator, thank you.”

The reporter nods, shuffling forward until they pull a paper out of their file in hand. She gives me a sickly smile, passing the paper up to our security guard who does me the honor of bringing it right to my outstretched palm.

“This is one of the newest renderings, I was just wondering how you have been feeling about this entire situation?”

I already guessed what this was going to be about, but the picture in my hand confirms it.

It’s fanart.

To be honest, it’s very well done. It’s a watercolor, the artist placed us walking along a rainy sidewalk. Hand in hand, Yoongi’s gummy smile on full display while I look down at my toes.

Sebastian whistles beside me, clearly as in awe of the artwork as I am. Before me the reporter still wears her smile, waiting for a response. I pass the paper down the line, allowing Rhea to get a chance to admire the fanart.

Maybe it’s the boost of confidence I received upon reading Yoongi’s text this morning that has me grinning back at the reporter with a saccharine smile.

“Did you draw this? It’s very well done.”

Not everyone can understand Korean in this press conference, but the few that do start chuckling. The reporter blanches for a moment, smile faltering.

“N-no, but if you could answer the question-”

I’m sure I look very disappointed as I look down at her. She definitely works for dispatch; she practically reeks of it. Maybe that’s what gives me the boldness I need as I realize that I’m not even her direct target; Yoongi is.

Yoongi’s nice. I don’t think she is.

“Oh, everything is going fine. Honestly, I should get in touch with this artist. They’re very talented.”

The reporter’s eyebrows flick up, sensing a new method of attack. “Were you thinking of commissioning your own?”

“Honestly, I might consider it. Maybe it’ll make my aunts quit hounding me every Thanksgiving about my love life.”

With that, the paper is handed back to the security guard, but the reporter motions for him to keep it. Confused, he hands it back to me. I turn it over so I don’t get caught staring at it during the conference. That’s the last thing Yoongi or I need right now.

As the reporter takes her seat again, I can’t help but feel a little triumphant. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

🌙

12:22 ME: I never said you were forgiven, did I?

As soon as we get out of the press conference we are ushered into a van which takes us to another interview. I figure that now is as good a time as any to text Yoongi back, seeing that this morning I woke up late and was too flustered to come up with a response.

“Who are you texting?” Sebastian asks. “Is it your friend that always calls you?”

I consider lying to him for a moment, but realize that it might actually be nice for him to know. He can keep me from being unrealistic when I start to fangirl.

He may also help me to keep that promise I silently made a while ago: to not go so easy on Yoongi. Right now, it’s proving harder than expected to dislike him.

“Nosy.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’re grinning at your phone like an idiot, that only happens when you get texts from me.”

“Ha! Right. It’s a secret...kind of. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll try my best not to.”

Taking an unnecessarily big breath, I spill my secret that I’ve kept for approximately 12 hours.

“It’s Yoongi.” When there’s no immediate reaction from him, I backpedal. “Also known as Suga?”

Before Sebastian can respond the ping of my phone pulls my attention away.

12:26 MYG: Oh good, you responded. I was getting worried you were actually mad. So is it alright if I keep texting you? I don’t want to mess with your schedule.

“You’re smiling again.”

I look up to see an annoyed Sebastian Stan. He’s not very good at sharing attention, and it would appear that Yoongi is no exception.

“How strange, I didn’t realize.”

12:27 ME: That’s fine.

12:27 ME: But I am mad!!

12:28 MYG: Hahaha sure

“Cara, we’re here.” Sebastian says as he clambers out of the car. I follow after him, pocketing my phone.

There’s a few cameras outside waiting for us, but we’re able to make it inside the building without too much fuss. Once we make it into the room where we’re supposed to have one of our interviews, Sebastian pulls a paper out of his back pocket.

“What’s that?”

He smirks at me, unfolding the paper. It’s the fanart from earlier. I didn’t even realize that he’d pocketed it.

“Tell Suga I say hi, at least.” He poses with the papers just below his chin, giving the best puppy dog eyes he can muster up. It’s rather convincing, if I’m being honest.

“You weirdo,” I mumble as I snap a photo. I’m quick to send it off to Yoongi, captioning it.

12:37 ME: Sebastian says hello.

Our interviewer is just about to come into the room when I receive a response. Not having the self-restraint to put my phone away, I quickly take a look. Sebastian peers over my shoulder, curious as well.

12:40 MYG: Winter Soldier!!!

12:41 MYG: Hi. Did he draw that?

I cackle, quickly translating the message. Sebastian looks appalled. “I have better things to do than draw fanart!”

“Yeah, like write fanfiction, right?”

He grins at me. “Obviously.”

12:42 ME: No, but he says he’s writing fanfiction.

12:42 ME: We’re about to start an interview rn but I’ll tell him to send you his rough draft later. 😏

Interviews pass, and it isn’t until I’m finishing up dinner that my phone pings with another message from Yoongi. I nearly impale Sebastian with my fork as I lunge for my charging phone; he’d come into my hotel room to eat dinner with me.

“Watch it!” Sebastian grunts, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. We were promised lunch by Rhea earlier but it ended up just being a small snack as she was whisked away by a long-lost friend. The two of us managed to control our hunger for as long as possible, but Sebastian wasted no time calling up some food for us before we even got back to the hotel.

We barely beat the delivery boy here. He wasn’t all that surprised that we were American. Sebastian had tried out some very choppy Cantonese. What did end up surprising him was that he was delivering a meal to the Winter Soldier. I was able to sneak into my room undetected while the boy’s eyes were bugging out as Sebastian signed his hat.

“Sorry,” I mumble around my food.

9:12 MYG: I’m still waiting for the rough draft.

I translate the message to Sebastian, who cackles and promises to get started on it as soon as possible.

9:14 ME: Sorry, Sebastian said he’s still trying to write it. I’ll let you know when it’s ready!

9:15 MYG: That’s alright. I’ll be patient.

9:15 MYG: I saw a clip from your press conference today.

My stomach lurches as I realize what clip it was that he probably saw. Does he think I’m some crazy fangirl now? I mean, I might be. But he doesn’t need to know that.

9:18 ME: I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?

Sebastian notices my change in expression and shoots me a worried look. “Everything alright?” I shrug.

“Yeah...I just hope I didn’t get him in trouble with what I said at the press conference today. I think that reporter was trying to go against him somehow.”

“He’s a big boy. Did he say anything about it?”

I look back down at the messages even though I already know what he said. My stomach lurches again as I see the three little dots at the bottom of the screen.

“No, not really. He just said he saw a clip or something. He’s typing right now, though.”

9:20 MYG: I thought I was the worrier. No, you didn’t. How was the rest of your day?

“What’d he say?” Sebastian grabs our cartons of food, tossing them into the wastebasket.

“He’s just…”

“Are you blushing?!” My friend stares at me from across the room, eyes wide. “No way! You like him!”

“No! No I don’t!”

“Yes you do, don’t lie to me! You’re so into him!” Sebastians hurries back over grinning wide. “Wow, he must be a good texter.”

That really is helping my blush. “Nooo, he’s not. He’s just nice. That’s it. It’s just fun having someone nice to talk to, you know? He feels really bad about everything and - Sebastian quit it - and it’s just sweet of him to care. That’s it.”

Sebastian stops looking at me with his puppy dog eyes and leans back in his chair, a contemplative look overtaking his features. “I thought I was nice to talk to.”

I pause for a second, breath getting caught in my throat. “Y-you are. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He shakes his head, giving me an award-winning smile. “No, I know. Aren’t you going to respond?”

“Oh! Yeah!” I focus on my phone again. There’s an uneasy feeling rising in me at Sebastian’s comment, but I brush it off for now. He’s always been bad at sharing his friends. He’s the same with Anthony Mackey, I’ve seen it up close.

9:25 ME: True, I’ll let you worry. My day was good, just finished up dinner. How was yours?

“There, I-” I look up proudly only to find Sebastian’s chair empty and the door clicking shut. “...I did it.”

MYG: It was great. Got lots of work done.

MYG: Have you decided if you’re going to come to the festival or not? Also, Bong-cha says hi.

ME: Wow, she can’t even tell me herself. No respect. No, I honestly didn’t even think about it today...but I’m pretty sure we’re all going either way.

MYG: Haha she’s not happy with your comment.

MYG: She’s reading over my shoulder, I promise I’m not reading our conversation out loud. Is your director making you go?

I just miss the chance to respond as my phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Bong-cha, quit reading my conversations you little weirdo.”

“Hey, how’s it going with you? I’m great, thanks for asking.”

“Are you still in the room with everyone?”

“No, just left. You should see Yoongi right now, though.”

“Why?”

“He looks like a kid in a candy store every time he gets a text from you. It’s adorable.”

“Yah!”

My friend’s cackle soars through the phone, and I swat at the air as though I could somehow get her to stop.

“Please tell me you guys are coming to the festival.” Bong-cha’s sudden change in tone has me pausing, chewing on my lip.

“We are. Why?”

“Come stay with me!” Bong-cha shouts. I jump up, a grin already working its way onto my face. “It’ll be just like old times. And, I was looking at the schedule you sent me...there’s a couple of nights where you’re done relatively early. We could go do something fun!”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. My phone is buzzing with incoming texts, but I ignore them for now. “Yeah, that’ll be fun. I’m not sure if I can come stay with you-”

“C’mon,” Bong-cha whines. “I never get to see you anymore. We’ll make it work! Oh, I’ve gotta go, Tae brought Yeontan. But let me know!”

With that, Bong-cha cuts the line and leaves me on the other side caught between excitement at seeing my friend and dread at having to come face to face with Yoongi. Texting is one thing; but actually spending time with him?

“Just be his friend,” I mumble to myself. Settling down, I attack my food once more. The space where Sebastian sat before makes me furrow my brows.

What’s going on with him? I mean sure, we’re really good friends. But we still see each other constantly, why would he be so possessive?

It’s probably all just in my head. My phone light up with the texts I received a couple of minutes ago while I was still on the phone, and this time I physically cannot restrain the smile that comes through as I realize Yoongi is still texting me.

MYG: Really no pressure about the festival. I know Bong-cha really wants to see you, but please don’t feel like you have to come and hang out with us.

MYG: We’re not even that cool, anyways.

MYG: Are you just hanging out with Sebastian tonight??

I stare down at my phone for a moment, the smile being wiped from my face. Plopping down heavily on my bed, I close my eyes and power off my phone.

Yoongi is nice. So nice, apparently, that I can’t even tell now if he’s trying to get me to stay away. The fact is simple: he’s a nice man who has a reputation to uphold and is trying to keep everyone happy. That includes me.

He’s nice for texting me and trying to make sure I’m doing alright. Any decent human being would do that. But there’s also the fact that I’m new to this game in the spotlight and I know that I’m not going to be able to keep my feelings out of this.

I take a moment to breathe, forcing myself to push away the impending panic that sets in. This is no way to live, and I know that I’m only setting myself up for heartbreak when someday I don’t wake up to a good morning text from Yoongi.

It’s only been one day of communicating and I can already feel myself getting too attached.

Powering on my phone again, I flinch at the new texts.

9:17 MYG: Bong-cha just told me her evil plan. 😩 Did she tell you about it on the phone?

9:31 MYG: Sorry if you’re busy! Just text me back when you can. Let me know about your plans for the festival, too.

Even though I’m itching to text him back and waste away the rest of the night talking to him, there’s another more pressing matter I have to face. Quickly getting up and leaving my phone there in order to fight the temptation, I grab my room key and head a few rooms down. A quiet knock and a few seconds later and Sebastian is opening up his door.

He looks down at me warily, and I feel almost like we had a fight because of the way he’s looking at me. Emitting a loud sigh, he shakes it off and grins down at me in a way that makes me question if I even saw the previous expression at all.

“Hey,” I mumble out weakly. Moving past him into his room, he follows silently behind me.

“Hey…?”

Without another word I land face first onto his bed, the action pulling a laugh from him. Good. His laugh reminds me that this is real. This friendship is real, and Sebastian for all his annoying teasing, is a true friend.

Bong-cha is miles away and busy. She’s also biased. So Sebastian is the next best thing.

“I’m freaking out,” the pillow muffles my words but I know he hears me loud and clear. The mattress dips on one side as Sebastian settles onto it, and a moment later a hesitant hand begins kneading the flesh at my shoulders. I let out a satisfied sigh.

“What’s going on?” His tone is gentle, and the sound of it nearly tugs some tears out of my eyes.

“I’m pathetic, Sebastian.” I clutch his pillow and bury my face farther into it. “I’m so pathetic! I’ve literally never met the man before in my life, and I’ve spent the last 24 hours sending a few texts back and forth and I already feel like I’d jump off a cliff for him!”

Sebstian’s hands pause in their kneading for a fraction of a second before continuing on. “I told you you liked him.”

I turn to look at him, and again I catch that wary gaze before he drops it. “Really? ‘I told you so’? Rude. I need help, Sebastian. It’s never going to happen, he’s just being nice, and I just need to be cordial and get through this. Right?”

He nods, contemplating a bit. “Sure. He seems like a great guy. But at the end of the day, the two of you are just caught up in a weird media frenzy and that’s it. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I guess.” I huff, flipping onto my back as I stare up at the ceiling. “Why do I like him though? Am I just desperate?”

Sebastian stands up and laughs. “No way. If you were desperate you would be falling for me, not some inconvenient, crazy famous kpop star.”

Somehow his words make me laugh, the feeling easing the panic a bit. “You’re right, I guess.”

🌙

I end up passing out in Sebastian’s room only to wake up at 3 am and find myself a little too close for comfort to my co-star. Gently untangling myself from his mess of arms and legs, I sneak out of his room and back to my own.

Half-asleep and looking the part, I groan at my reflection in the mirror as I try to brush my teeth. Pointing at my reflection with my toothbrush, I give myself a pep talk.

“You are not pathetic,” pause to spit, “you’re not desperate,” rinse out the brush, “you’re just friendly. You’re practicing making new friends, and Yoongi as well as all of BTS are a part of that. That’s it.”

So when I finally settle down into my cold and very empty bed, I don’t feel very guilty sending Yoongi a late-night text. He never texted me again after the last one I saw, and I easily brush off the feeling of disappointment and replace it with relief.

3:13 ME: Yeah, we’re going. No, I have no idea what the evil plan is. Do we need to come up with a counter-plan? And sorry I never responded...I was busy annoying Sebastian and left my phone in my room. Good morning! This is payback for your late texts last night!

I fall asleep easily after that, double checking that my phone is on silent before snuggling deep down into my pillows.

Honestly, what do I even have to worry about? Everything is going great with promotions, the movie is finished and should be well received, and in a couple of days I’ll get to go see Bong-cha and make new friends!

Into the silence, I can’t help but laugh. I’m not dumb enough to believe that everything will go as planned.

Especially not as my dreams take over and the only thing I can dream of is a man in a black suit, turning around to greet me over and over again. I can never quite see his face, but somehow I know him.

Even in my unconscious state, I lie to myself and say that it’s not Min Yoongi.

Previous - Next

Taglist is open! Ready to head to Seoul next time?

taglist: @taylorroe3 @eusticenatalie @agustneeds @oceandeep @prdshobi

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Telenovela (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Telenovela Rating: PG-13 Length: 2300 Warnings: None Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in 1990. Summary: Javier, Steve, and Reader have to get a motel.

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou

“Javier, do you only know where the shitty motels are in this country?” You groused, shielding your eyes from the setting sun as you stared ahead at the dilapidated motel which boasted FREE AIR CONDITIONING. That seemed highly unlikely.

Javier took off his aviators, passing them to you as he looked to Steve in the back seat. “You willing to drive twelve hours back to the city?”

“Uh…”

“That’s what I thought,” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, giving you a lingering look before he climbed out of the car. “I’ll get us the rooms.”

You arched a brow as you turned around to look at Steve. “I think we don’t have much of a choice.”

“Yeah, I got that vibe too.” He quipped as you both climbed out of the Jeep and followed Javier into the motel office.

As you anticipated — there was no air conditioning to be found inside. Behind the older gentleman at the front desk sat no less than five fans, all running at the highest setting in an attempt to cool down the room.

Steve folded his arms across his chest as he stared at the back of Javier’s head as he parsed things out with the motel owner. He turned towards you, “What’s going on?”

“For fuck’s sake, Murphy. Learn. Spanish.” You slapped him playfully in the arm, shaking your head. “Hang on,” You told him before you stepped forward, pulling your badge out of your back pocket and laying it on the desk for Miguel — the owner — to review.

You turned back towards Steve then, “Unsurprisingly, he didn’t believe Javier when he said we were just three co-workers.”

“What?” Steve questioned, before his eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes, pocketing your badge. “Optics.” Hell, sometimes you were fairly certain there were people in the DEA that didn’t realize they had a female agent on the team. That you weren’t just a local that had got roped in to working as an informant.

You glanced back towards Javier and Miguel, throwing in a snarky comment about Steve’s inability to speak Spanish which earned you a grin from Javi.

Murphy was lucky he had the two of you — otherwise he’d be fucked.

“Unfortunately,” You explained to him. “They only have one room available for tonight.”

“Fucking typical.”

Miguel filled out the reimbursement form for Javier, passing it back across the counter with two room keys.

“Gracias!” Steve offered, before he followed you and Javier out of the office and back into the sweltering heat of the early evening.

The motel room was about what you expected it to be. There was one bed in the center of the room, which fortunately looked like it had clean sheets. But the hideous carpet had several questionable stains, which matched the curtains that covered the window.

“Well...” Your brows rose upwards, “I’ll sleep in the chair.” You told them as you stepped into the room. “You boys can have the bed.”

Javier scoffed, “You’re not sleeping on the chair.”

“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” You protested. “It’s fine, Javi.” You moved towards the chair, sinking down onto it.

It was shit. One of the legs was clearly shorter than the rest and there was no cushion to the pleather seat.

“See.”

He glared at you, “Steve, you’re sleeping in the chair.”

Murphy gave a short laugh, “Nice try, Peña.” He crossed his arms across his chest, shaking his head. “You can sleep in the chair.”

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, staring Steve down. There was something unspoken that was exchanged in that look — one you weren’t privy too. “Fine.”

You rose to your feet, looking between the two of them, before your gaze fell to the bed. “It’s a King. I bet it would fit the three of us.” It would be a tight fit — but it would solve whatever this stalemate was.

“Javier will be fine in the chair.” Steve stated firmly, scratching at the back of his neck. “Right?”

“Yeah.” He rocked his jaw slowly, before looking towards you. “You want anything from the D1?”

“I’ll come with you.” You suggested, “Murphy can you get our shit out of the Jeep?” You questioned, passing the room key to him.

“Yeah, sure.”

Javier raked his fingers through his hair, glaring at Steve again. “What do you want?”

“If they have any of that apple stuff…”

“Postobón?” You questioned. “I’m buying you a Spanish textbook for your next birthday.”

“I think he’s just putting on,” Javier suggested. “If he doesn’t know the language, we get to do all the hard work.”

You snorted, “Then he’d know what I said about him in the office.”

Javier grinned at you. “That was a good one.”

“Oh, I know.” You smirked, before looking back towards Steve. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

——

The D1 was a five-minute walk down the road from the motel. The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon by the time you reached it.

“You gonna tell me what the fuck that was about?” You questioned, shifting the basket from one hand to the other as you grabbed a couple bottles of Postobón, loading the basket.

“What was what?” Javier questioned, arching a brow as he looked at you.

“That look between you and Steve.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I really don’t mind sleeping in the chair.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll get a couple hours of shut-eye and hit the road at first light.”

“Alright.” You studied him as he turned back towards the shelves, grabbing a bag of chips off the shelf and stowing it in his own basket. “What? Are you afraid to sleep in a bed with Steve?” You teased lightly. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell the assholes at the embassy.”

He flipped you off.

“I’ll even promise to keep my hands to myself.” You arched a brow, a smirk playing over your lips. “Unless you’re into the alternative.”

Javier nearly dropped the bottle of lemon-flavored Postobón he’d grabbed for himself. “Fuck off.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just a suggestion.”

Something about the look he fixed you with made a shiver run down your spine. It was hard to read what the look meant, to begin with. Did he hate that suggestion that much? Usually he didn’t take much offense to the barbing comments you exchanged with each other.

But Javier was a hard one to read on a good day, sometimes.

———

You sat in between Steve and Javier on the bed, staring at the TV screen across the room. After thirty minutes of fussing with the antenna, Steve had managed to coax the television into working.

“One of you is going to have to interpret,” He complained as he settled on a channel that was playing re-runs of Gallito Ramírez. Something that both you and Javier were willing to settle on, given that Steve wasn’t going to understand it anyways.

“Eat your chips and hush.” You quipped as you nudged him in the ribs playfully. “If you watched more telenovelas, you’d likely learn Spanish.”

“I know some Spanish.” He said as he ate a chip. “Is that guy’s name Javier?”

“Wow.” You snorted.

Javier met your eyes and chuckled, “At least he knows my name.”

“Oh, fuck you both.” Steve huffed, taking a sip of his drink. “What’s the synopsis.”

“It’s stupid.” You answered, “Javier — Gallito — is training to become a boxer. He’s in love with Carmenza, but she’s from a wealthy family above his social class.”

“She also wants him to quit boxing.” Javier added.

“Yeah.” You nodded your head, looking towards Steve. “And then there’s this other woman—”

“Diana.”

“Who he’s also in love with. She’s in the same social class as him.” You stole a chip out of Javier’s bag, taking a moment to eat it before you continued. “But he belongs with Carmenza.”

Steve tilted his head to look at the two of you, “And you’ve both watched this?”

You nodded, “It ended back in… 1986 or 1987. It’s always on at night.”

He arched a brow at you, “Really?”

“Get your head out of your ass, Murphy.” Javier snapped. “Neither of us sleep. And this shit’s always on.”

“I wish I had Margarita’s hair,” You remarked as you leaned towards Javi and rested your cheek against his shoulder.

“Well, since I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on… I’m going to take a shower.” Steve dusted his hands off on the front of his jeans, before he moved to get out of the bed. “Javier, get your bed sorted out.”

“Real funny.” He sat his drink aside and moved to get out of the bed. You watched him as he moved towards the corner of the room, pulling the chair towards the table.

“Are you sure you don’t mind sleeping over there?” You questioned, tucking your legs beneath you as you sat up, your eyes drifting back towards the TV as the main characters kissed. “Carlos has the best hair.”

Javier rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine sleeping over here. It’s not so bad.” He said as he propped a pillow up on the chair. “See?”

You looked back at him then, smiling a little. “We’ll see if you think it’s ‘not so bad’ in the morning.” You teased lightly, “Did you know they got married in real life?”

“Hmm?”

“Carlos and Margarita.”

He pursed his lips, “Not surprised.” Javier nodded his head towards the screen. “No one can act that in love with someone and not really be.”

“Like you know anything about love.” You scoffed as you climbed out of bed, rolling up the two bags of chips and using the hair tie on your wrist to close them up.

You caught him staring at you as you looked back at him, but he looked away quickly, his eyes fixed on the TV again.

Then again — what did you know about love?

———

“How are you doing over there?” You questioned, your eyes barely able to make out the outline of Javier in the darkness of the motel room. You could hear him shuffling around in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position.

He wasn’t going to find one.

“Go to sleep.” He grumbled, huffing again and — from what you could hear — the chair must’ve threatened to tip over on the bed leg as he tried to find a better way to sit. “Fuck.” Javier swore as something that sounded like an arm or a leg hit against the little table that was beside the chair. There was another solid thud, which sounded more like a person hitting the floor.

“For fuck’s sake, Javier.” Steve hissed out. “What are you doing?” The bed dipped beside you a second before he turned the bedside lamp on.

You tried hard not to laugh as you took in the sight of Javier sprawled out on the floor with the table toppled over on him. “How the fuck did you do that?”

“Piece of shit chair—” He cut himself off as he hauled himself up off the floor. “Goddamn piece of shit knocked itself over.” Javier explained lamely, pushing his fingers through his hair as he looked towards the bed. “I was trying to prop my legs up.”

“Yeah.” You pursed your lips, fighting the urge to laugh at his plight. “Javier, there’s plenty of room over here.” You gestured at the expanse of real estate between you and Steve.

“I’m fine.” He insisted, looking towards Steve briefly. You turned to glare at Steve, catching his gaze as he sighed heavily.

“Stephen Murphy.” You warned him, “I don’t know what your deal is. But let the poor man sleep in the bed. Otherwise we’re both going to be paying for it tomorrow.”

“Jesus Christ.” He raked his hand over his face, sinking back against the bed. “Fine, whatever. Get up here Javier.”

“The chair isn’t—”

“I will knock you unconscious with that chair if you don’t get over here and lay the fuck down, Javier.” You seethed. “You’re gonna sit over there, huffing and puffing all night and none of us are gonna get any sleep.”

“Technically,” Steve interrupted. “I was asleep before he fell.”

You glared at him. “As I was saying,” You settled Javier with his own look. “Get over here and lay down and shut the fuck up. Both of you.”

Men. The great lengths men would go to, just to avoid having to sleep in a bed with each other. Though, Javier had refused to sleep in the bed with just you too. Regardless, they were both being idiots about the situation.

“We’re going to be twice as tired tomorrow if we don’t get some sleep and frankly, I’d really love it if you two didn’t fight like old women the entire way home back you didn’t get your beauty sleep.”

“For the record,” Javier nodded his head towards Steve. “He needs a hell of a lot more beauty sleep than I do.”

You snorted, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Javier feigned offense as he climbed up into the middle of the bed. With both you and Steve on your sides, Javier had plenty of room between the two of you.

“Better?” Steve asked as he shut off the bedside light, sending the room into darkness once more.

“Much.” Javier answered him as he reached towards you and rested his hand against your back for a brief moment. “Thank you.” He added and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

“Whatever.” Steve mumbled, thinking Javier was thanking him. You swore your back still burned in the wake of his touch and you had to talk yourself down from getting anywhere near that ledge.

Javier wasn’t that guy.

This wasn’t some cheesy telenovela.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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oh-so-scenarios · 4 years

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ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs...♠| 08

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Aɴɢsᴛ, sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ,

A/N: Unedited. This is kind of a filler chapter. Finally entering Phase 2 of this story. Lol yall don’t know what that means, but my goodness did it take a while. Please ignore any typos!

(Word Count: 6.1K)

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Y/N:

He hates me. I know it. I crossed the line. That’s probably what I did. I kissed him on the cheek? I confessed my feelings and probably made him even more uncomfortable? Way to go Y/n! Way to go!

It’s been 7 days since the Charity Gala, and while things were buzzing in the news about the transportation company that was being sued for the “loss” of the real artworks, Hoseok has been ignoring me like the plague. Or so I think.

Jennie and I are at the headquarters as much as we are at the hospital and in each visit, and I haven’t seen Hoseok once. No one said anything about him, or where he might be, so I can only assume I angered him. My heart feels...crushed? I thought there was a warm moment, a real moment somewhere in that night of fake hugs and smiles.

It must have been the alcohol getting to my head, thinking that something was...beginning. It was silent as Jennie and I cleaned up the operating area, the patient still not woken as he rested in the recovery bed.

This is 3rd surgery Jennie and I have performed for the black market. I seem to be the only uncomfortable, seeing as Jennie hums calmly while stripping the dirty gloves off her hands and slipping off the disposable plastic apron to reveal the dark blue scrubs that I also wore. I copied her motions, slipping my gloves off and throwing the apron into the trash bin.

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on my hips. After the patient was awake and well enough to leave, we’ll have to come back and clean the area better.

I looked over at Jennie who stared back at me with a knowing look, “Jungkook said he was buying fried chicken for everyone.” She spoke softly, glancing towards the knocked-out patient. I wordlessly walked past her to the sink, washing my hands with soap and drying them off.

I moved to the side, giving her the space to do the same. Her hair was pulled up into a high bun, and though I nagged her about that being inappropriate for surgery, she looked like a chich college student.

I stood by the sink waiting for her while she hummed to herself. She’s been very happy lately. It’s because of Jaehyun. He makes her happy, and the love radiating from her was depressing. She cheered me on, telling me that the kiss on the cheek was a brave move. It was a great move! I was being assertive!

But why do I feel like shit? Not a single text, not a call or even an order passed down to Jungkook. Hoseok is missing in action, and no one wants to admit it. If he didn’t hate me before, he hates me now.

We walked out of the room and out the lobby area, finding a chaotic scene. Six men seated around the large round table, fussing and bickering with boxes of fried chicken sat between them. I snickered at the scene, watching Jin stood from his seat to yell at Taehyung.

“You said you didn’t like Lemon pepper! Why are they over on your side!” His voice echoed through the place, while his eyes widen. He shook his head vigorously and his face turned a bright red. Giggles emerged in the room as Taehyung pushed the basket of chicken across the table.

I quietly walked up to a seat beside Namjoon who showed me a kind smile.

“Done with the surgery already?” Jimin chimes. I nod, glancing over the different types of chicken. Jennie sits about 3 seats away from me, digging into the food right away. Namjoon pushes a basket of some wings, silently offering it to me.

“Is Hoseok avoiding me?” I asked softly, I was hoping they wouldn’t hear me. That the loud smacking of lips as they ate would drown out my words, but everyone stopped to look at me. Yoongi’s brows furrowed and he looked towards the others as if they had the answer.

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked from beside me. I sighed, leaning forward, looking over the wings once more.

“I haven’t seen him since the gala, and he’s not ordering me around like he usually does…” I trail off as I realize I sound like a whining child.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at me, chewing the last of the food in his mouth before speaking.

“Boss traveled Y/n, I thought you knew,” Jungkook said a matter of a fact. My mouth made a small O shape, embarrassment consuming my whole body.

“He traveled?” I questioned, looking to Jin who was nodding slowly.

“He left 2 days after the gala, he has some business in Japan. I told him to tell you, but I guess he didn’t.” Jungkook adds with his eyes focused on the wing in his hands. His gaze flickered up to me knowingly.

Jungkook hasn’t asked me what we were arguing about at the gala when he interrupted, the ride home is silent, while I sniffled and wiped my tears. I can’t be certain why I was crying. Maybe it was because he thought so little of my feelings? Or he found it so hard to believe that someone could like him?

“Why would Boss avoid you?” Namjoon asked, before pointing at the wings he set in front of me. It was silent order to start eating or he was going to take them for himself.

I reached forward and grabbed one wing, twisting it around with my fingers. I can’t be sure what the flavor is, but that didn’t matter right now. The room grew quiet, some chewing and shuffling containers being all that’s heard.

I sighed, “I kissed him--”

��You kissed boss?!” Jungkook exclaims in...excitement?

“--On the cheek!” I add quickly, not wanting him to jump to conclusions.

“Wow noona” Jungkook said with his wide eyes gleaming, “and what did he do?

I shrugged, “Nothing. He didn’t say or do anything.” I took a bite of the wing, looking up to see all the guys at the table smiling slightly.

“So what were you so worried about?” Taehyung voices as he reaches for a napkin to clean his mouth.

“I thought I crossed the line? I didn’t want to anger him or come on too strong.” I was hesitant to say anymore. I only really talk to Jungkook. This is the first time I’m really having a conversation with anyone. Other than Yoongi of course. I didn’t feel uncomfortable though.

The older guys, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi, weren’t strangers; but they certainly weren’t close friends. They work the closest with Hoseok, so I don't see them as often as I do Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. They do the more of the details for Hoseok. They aren’t as eager to share as the younger guys.

“Hoseok will only protest never encourage.” When Seokjin says it like he’s solved the case, my brows furrow. I’m not following.

After meeting my unclear facial expression, he sighed and leaned back in his seat.

“He didn’t say anything, so he didn’t hate it. If he didn’t like it, he’d let you know for sure.”

“That’s just how Hoseok is.” Yoongi adds simply, “And if you are so curious to what he’s up to, just call him.”

“Call him?”

“Duh. If you’re bothering him, he won’t even pick up. You’ve already gone ahead to do something bold like kissing him, you can’t get bashful now.” Yoongi starts to work on another wing, taking a big bite before reaching for the open water bottle on the table. He pushes his hair back, despite the thick headband that was already feeding that purpose.

Jennie hadn’t spoken this whole time, too busy stuffing her face with wings. I kept eating while she wiped her mouth with her arm, my eyes widening at the uncharacteristic behavior. Jaehyun is rubbing off on her and that’s clear. Jennie used to be ...stiff. A bit stuck up but not enough to come off as a bitch.

She had high standards and expected only the finer things, yet she would also go with the flow of things, not wanting on the chance to experience something she could later brag about. Since meeting Jaehyun, she has loosened up in terms of the proper chip that was on her shoulder.

“I say,” She takes a sip of water, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her water to take.

She repeats herself, “I say you keep on with what you’re doing. Be forward. You have to be with a laid back guy like Hoseok. Call him, holding his hand, kiss his cheek and all that. If he says he doesn’t like it, stop.”

Taehyung claps his hands together, “We won’t say anything about it and act oblivious! Just do what feels right and we’ll act like it’s nothing new!”

Taehyung pumps his fight up into the air, the whole action being something you’d expect if he was drunk.

“Operation ‘help Boss understand Y/n’s feelings’ is a go!”

“He understands,” I mumble, “I told him that I liked that despite his lifestyle.”

Taehyung shook his head, “No Y/n...we need him to understand!” He deepened his voice on the word ‘understand’.

“Hyung is very smart, but he’s also...dense when it comes to things like this. For him to understand, he needs to see actions. Once he feels like he’s got a handle on the situation, he’ll possibly respond or make a move.”

I chuckled, “You really know Hoseok really well.”

Taehyung kisses his teeth, “I’ve been studying the mystery that is Jung Hoseok for 8 years now.”

~!~

It sounded so easy when the others were talking about it. Call him. Don’t text him, but call him. But now that I am lying on my bed, the butterflies in my stomach were overwhelming. I look at the clock on my wall to see that it’s nearing 10pm, I’m sure he’s awake.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling and finding his contract. I pressed his name and watched the screen change as the number dialed. I placed the phone on speaker, staring up at the ceiling while I waited, hoping to hear his voice.

A few more rings later, and it went to voicemail. I sighed, hanging up before it could start recording. Of course, he’s busy. According to Namjoon, Hoseok is going for his actual investment work. One day I’ll get Hoseok to tell me more about his investment company. It’s thriving and doing well.

I turned onto my side, sleep suddenly growing heavy on my eyes. It’s been a long day and I was finally feeling the tiring work of the day while my body relaxed and went slack against my bed and pillow.

I don’t remember how long my eyes were closed before I felt a buzzing vibrating the bed. My eyes fluttered open, and though my vision was blurry, I could make out the caller ID.

I grabbed my phone quickly, swiping to answer and hitting the speaker button. I set it down on my bed, staring at the black screen while soft breathing sounded through the iPhone speaker.

“Doc.” He said quietly. He sounded bored, with no sense of urgency or sleepiness. I looked at the clock again. It is 11:34pm.

“Hi.” I croaked, eyes widen at my own voice. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could.

“I woke you up.” He said, almost sounding sorry.

I shook my head slowly as if he could see me lying there in my bed, with my hair a mess and my baggy T-shirt and shorts.

“I don’t mind. I don’t work tomorrow.” I answered. There a beat of silence, and I can hear cars zooming in the background.

“You called me?” He sounded annoyed, not because I called, but the fact that I wasn’t speaking.

“Yeah,” I replied softly, “I didn’t realize you traveled.”

“I guess I didn’t tell you, it was sort of last minute. I had to handle some business.” He replied.

“Oh, I see.” I pause for a moment, “I hope I’m not bothering you when you’re busy.” I rush out that last bit, my nerves getting to me.

“No, you’re not.”

“Ok, cool. Umm...how much longer are you staying in Japan?” My desperate attempts at preventing an awkward silence.

“Why?” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Do you miss me?” He chuckles soon after, showing that he was teasing. I bit on my bottom lip nervously as he laughed. I gripped my bedsheets in on hand and closed my eyes, thinking of how I should be bold. Without opening my eyes I spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I miss you a lot.” Hearing the words leave my lips caused my skin to tingle. My eyes remain closed while I listen to Hoseok on the other line. His laughter dies down and I heard a slight shuffle. He doesn’t speak for a short time, leaving me in my dread and fear.

“I’ll be back in 4 days,” His teasing tone was no more, he spoke simply and plainly. My shoulders drop in relief. He’s ignoring my statement, which I regret even saying so him ignoring it is for the best. I heard more shuffling and what sounded like a car door closing.

My eyes stay closed as I speak again.

“Good,” My voice is light, sleepiness taking hold of me again. I yawned lightly, and we sit in silence for a little while.

“Go to bed, Y/n.” Sounding like he was ordering a child. But I was too tired to say something smart.

“Good night Hoseok, sorry for bothering you,” I muttered.

He takes in a deep breath, sounding like he made up his mind on something, “Y/n?”

I hum in reply, irritation rising as he was keeping me from falling asleep.

“Whenever you start missing me, just call me.” He said the words casually, but he spoke quietly this time. My eyes snapped open in surprise. He cleared his throat, showing discomfort with his own words. He’s nervous? I looked at my phone in time to see the screen flash to black as he hung up the phone without a goodbye.

What...did...he--

He said to call him whenever I start missing him? I laid there with my eyes wide and my mind empty. My heart racing to the point of my vision vibrating as I stared blankly at the wall opposite of me.

The conversation was short, awkward and almost forced but...it wasn’t awful. I would like to think that he enjoyed our conversation. He also didn’t say anything about the kiss or the gala. But it was nice to have a small normal chat.

Whenever you start missing me, just call me.

My lips turned up into a shy smile, “He’s too cute.” I say to no one in particular.

To say, nothing had changed...wrong. But to say things had changed would also be wrong. Hoseok hasn’t brought up the gala, the kiss or even the investigation being conducted on the small delivering company that is being accused of swapping the real art with fake art.

Hoseok wasn’t really attempting to make conversation, but he wouldn’t suggest hanging up whenever we sat in silence. He comes back from Japan tomorrow, but I’ve called him 2 more times in the past 3 days. Usually later at night, when he is on his way back to the hotel. Calling him the second time was harder than calling the first time.

Whenever you start missing me, just call me. What was that? Where did that come from? He doesn’t make mention of it again, and neither do I. But it feels like his words loomed over us with every conversation we had. Like he wanted to say something about it but was waiting for me to bring it up.

I stared up at the ceiling as I heard the shuffling of bedsheets and blankets. Unlike the other times I called, Hoseok was actually in his hotel bed this time. Since our conversations were barely conversations. I’d ask him how his day was, I’d get a one-word answer followed by me desperately trying to keep the flow of things going. I wanted to try and dig deeper. If he doesn’t want to tell me. He won’t.

“Hoseok?” My voice sounds quiet and lacks confidence. When he replies he sounds distracted and I can faintly hear his fingers tapping away at his phone screen.

“Yeah?” He sounds distracted.

“So you took over for your father when you were 16?” I asked timidly, a slight tremble in my voice. I heard another shuffle, with a small sigh following after.

“Yeah,” He answered, “No big deal.”

He was trying to brush it off, but I wasn’t going to move on that quickly.

“It must have been scary...dealing with the death of your father, but also being ushered into such a big role.”

“I don’t want your pity.” He hissed. My heart dropped a bit, feeling the peaceful chat turning dour.

“I’m not pitying you, I just imagine it must have been hard.”

“I managed, I had the guys to help me out. I did what was expected of me and I turned out fine.”

I opened my mouth to reply but he kept speaking, so I sat and listened.

“My dad was sick, and I knew what was coming so I was ready for it. I prepared and was able to move forward.”

“How do you prepare for something like that? Taking such a big role I mean.”

He groans, “I don’t know. I just stopped hanging out with friends, I stopped my hobbies and things like that. My relationship with the guys also changed. It was...rough.”

My eyes perked up, “You knew the guys before?”

Hoseok lets out a humorless chuckle, a bitterness underlying the action.

“They were my best friends before I became their boss.” He sounded sad, and I felt sad as well. There was a longing in his voice. How much as his relationship with the boys changed? They seem...close, right? I wouldn’t exactly call their relationship the typical friendship, but I wouldn’t say it’s lacking.

Before I respond, ready to reassure Hoseok, a thought enters my mind. I don’t know what their friendship was before, and how or why did the guys agree to do such work for Hoseok? Were they already aware of Hoseok’s father and the lifestyle he had?

“They’re still your best friends now.” I inject, wondering why he was speaking in the past tense.

He scoffs, “Nah, I wouldn’t agree.”

“Why?”

“They just work for me at this point, I doubt they like me anymore.” The statement sounded so insecure. My brows furrowed and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The flashbacks to Taehyung’s cheeky smile as he spoke about Hoseok were battling the words I just heard.

“What?” I shake my head, “What would make you think that? Has the boss, employee overshadowed the friendship? Is that what you think?”

He doesn’t respond, leaving me with his calm breathing as a sign of his distress.

“I don’t think it’s that way at all Hoseok! If you feel that way, I think you should talk to them about it.”

When he still refuses to speak, my heart grows heavier. Does he go around just thinking everyone holds some sort of animosity, does he? The conversation at the gala makes sense, and a light bulb flickers on above my head.

Do you really like me?

“Why are you so keen on having everyone detest you?” My tone comes out a bit rougher than I intended, but it doesn’t seem like he noticed.

“My line of work doesn’t really let me be a people person.”

“But that’s work, isn’t it? There’s a time where you gotta shut the work mindset off...right?”

Another beat of silence, my own breathing sounding louder than Hoseok’s. Another shuffle from his end and a grunt. I’m guessing he was changing his position on the bed.

“Go to sleep, doc. You’ll see me tomorrow.” That’s all he said and the line disconnected. He hung up.

Once again I’m left lying in my bed with my thumping heart and my thoughts. What a ball of secrets Jung Hoseok is. Just what is going on in that head and heart of his?

~!~

“We did the best we could,” I said to Jennie as we walked down the hospital hallway. We trailed behind Dr. Lee who was looking down at his clipboard. Our heels click against the tile floor, as we zoom towards room 323. We were on our way to check on a patient who just woke from a surgery we performed the day before.

We already knew this was going to be a rough one. A terrible car accident has left a couple in a sad state. The wife, an older woman in her early 50’s had damage to her legs, leaving her partially paralyzed. Only temporarily. With proper physical therapy, Ms. Cho will be able to walk again.

As for Mr. Cho, he is stuck in a sleep-like-state. A coma, one could say, however it is believed that he can hear his surroundings. Though we did surgery to stop the internal bleeding, the seriousness of his injuries can’t be known until he awake.

I glanced at my outfit, the yellow dress seeming too bright for the depressing atmosphere we were going to enter. However, the yellow dress was significant to my mood. The happy butterflies floating around my stomach were clouding my focus.

It was a dress Jennie gifted me a few months back, and it sat in my closet collecting dust. The dress stopped right at my knees, it’s shaping being form-fitting with being skin tight. The hem of the skirt ruffled out, giving it a spring vibe. The whole dress was covered in white polka dots, less than you would regularly see for the pattern. The v neck wasn’t deep enough to be inappropriate, and the sort sleeves also had the same ruffle as the skirt hem. My white heels complimented the whole look.

When I strolled into work today, Jennie was sipping her coffee, only to have her eyes widen as she choked.

“Wow,” She breathed, “You look hot!” I cringed, gesturing my hands for her to bring her voice down. She was being too loud. A few nurses turned their eyes, raising their eyebrows.

“Mr. Jung must be returning today,” one of the nurses at the help desk muttered loudly, “I heard he hasn’t been at any board meetings because he traveled.” I turned my head towards the voice to meet a teasing set of eyes.

I stared at her and she shrugged, “Am I wrong?” She giggled looking me up and down. The other nurses giggled along with her.

“It is that obvious?” I whispered to Jennie. She took another sip from her Starbucks cup before she gave me a thorough once over. She takes a look at my outfit, a cheesy smile pulling at her lips while her eyes moved up to my face.

“Oh hell yeah.” She chimes. I grunt, covering my face with both hands.

“He’s going to think I’m such a try-hard.” I groaned then adjusted my white doctor’s coat to try to cover the dress more.

Jennie bites her lip, the red lipstick that painted them not smudging one bit. She brought her coffee cup up to her lips as if to take a sip. She raised her shoulders and turned her body to the side as if she was hiding something from me with her body.

“Y/n, I’d be more worried that you’d make him hard.” She whispers just loud enough for me to hear. My face heats up and a coy expression grazes my face.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so!” She exclaimed, winking at me.

We stood there waiting for Mr. Lee to arrive. He told us to meet him here at noon, and it’s already 12:23. The longer we stood there talking, the more I noticed glances my way from patients and fellow workers.

“Is the dress inappropriate for work?” My face scrunches up and my insecure questions slip from my lips.

“No, not at all. You’re just giving off different vibes than usual. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you look good.”

Before I could reply, Jennie spoke again, “You talked to him on the phone yesterday?”

“Yup,” I said popping the p, “The conversation gets...better. It was very weird at first but it’s smoother now. You can tell he doesn’t usually do that kind of thing.”

Jennie nodded in an approving manner, “That’s sweet.” She smiled and took another long sip of her coffee from tossing the empty cup into the nearby trash can. She turned back around just as Dr. Lee rounded the corner.

“Took him long enough,” Jennie said under her breath. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, giving me a better look of her outfit. She wore a simple black turtleneck, the fabric looking too thin to protect from any cold, and a sage green skirt that was shorter than my dress with black heels. Her red lipstick popped and her slicked-back ponytail with the side part made her look so slick.

Jennie takes more risks with her outfits than I do. She dances right on the line of a provocative and voguish. No wonder this amazing dress I’m wearing is something she bought me. My hair was down today, Jennie telling me that pulled the outfit together more.

“Sorry for being late ladies. I-” Dr. Lee’s voice catches in his throat as he looked up from his clipboard. He gawked at me, blinking his eyes repeatedly and racking his eyes down my body. He snaps out of his trance not a second later, looking back to my face and shamelessly smiling at me.

“Dr. L/n, you are...breath-taking.” He said honestly.

I roll my eyes, “Thank you, Dr. Lee.”

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

I falsely give it some thought, “Mh, sure! I’ll be sure to bring Mr. Jung along.”

His smile drops at the mention of Hoseok, but the flirty nature in his eyes doesn’t change.

“Well, I’ll always be here.” He said with a wink, looking down at his clipboard again.

“And that’s unfortunate.” Jennie jeered back.

And that’s how we ended up where we are now, marching down the hallway to deliver not so good news to an older lady. By the time we reached the door of room 323, yelling could be heard. A thin and harsh voice was shouting while the calm voice of a nurse battled on.

Dr. Lee opened the door and all the noise stopped.

“Ms. Cho.” Dr. Lee said as he stepped in and we followed.

“Where is my husband?!” She shouts.

Dr. Lee sighs, “Please Ms. Cho, give us some time to help you understand what is going on.”

After she yells on for a few more minutes, Dr. Lee manages to calm her down. Her chest rises and falls intensely as lays back in her hospital bed. Her brows were furrowed and she glowered at us. Her gaze shifted between the 3 of us. Dr. Lee is going to do most of the talking, and we were just here to give the details of the surgery and the results.

Jennie and I took some time to explain to Ms. Cho the results of her surgery along with the condition of her legs. We had to pause for a moment as she cried. I made sure to give her a tissue and tried my best to comfort her. After we finished updating her on her condition, came the hard news of her husband.

There is no easy way to break news like that. And it’s always hard to see how people handle news like this. One of the nurses rubbed her back as she sobbed. Her black hair falling into her face.

We were in there for quite some time, setting up her physical therapy appointments. Jennie was discussing with Dr. Lee while I spoke to the nurse regarding the changes to Ms. Cho’s care.

“Young lady,” Ms. Cho suddenly says to me, sniffling in the process. I look over at her, showing a small smile.

“I know you have many patients to take care of, and you probably hear this a lot. But...my husband is my everything. Please do whatever you can to save him. Money isn’t an issue.” It’s hard to believe this soft-spoken woman was the same angry voice shouting earlier.

Her bloodshot eyes were tired and sad, but in general, she looked young for her age. Her skin lacked wrinkles or any significant sign of aging.

I smiled at her, “Of course Ms. Cho, we will do our best.”

A small smile pulls at the corner of her lips and I watch her eyes move to my white coat, “Dr. L/n?” She reads my name.

I smile, “Yup, that’s me. Y/n L/n.”

“A lovely name for a lovely girl.” She says softly.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I must say you’re also very beautiful.”

She laughs slightly, having it fade off into a sigh, “My beauty is all I have at this point.”

She throws a gentle punch at her legs, “These things are useless.” She mutters.

“Ms. Cho, you won’t be in a wheelchair forever, we can promise you that,” I assured her.

She looks towards Dr. Lee and back at me, “Is that guy any good? His rehearsed smile and strong cologne are throwing me off.”

I cough to hide my laughter while the nurse closes to me giggles with her hand covering her mouth.

“Dr. Lee is one of the finest doctors I know, he won’t lead you astray. His smile may be a practice, but if there’s one thing that is genuine, it’s his love for helping others.” She nods like my words put her doubts to rest.

“Thank you Dr. L/n, and I apologize for yelling at you earlier. That isn’t like me.” She looks down shyly, clearly embarrassed by her previous behavior.

“Don’t worry about it Mrs. Cho, I would have reacted the same way. You just went through a very disorienting series of events. I wouldn’t expect you to be poised.”

She smiles but soon gasps as if forgetting something.

“And the other driver? How is he?”

While I explained the conditions of the other driver, who also had serious injuries, Jennie and Dr. Lee came back from the corner of the room they were standing in.

“Mrs. Cho, you’ll be staying with us here at Seoul Sky Hospital for some time and we’re happy to have you. We will do whatever we can to give you a steady recovery; we will also work to look after your husband.” She nods, showing a strained smile. After a few more words, we start to shuffle out of the room. I am the last to leave, giving her a small smile.

~!~

I’m sitting in the passenger's seat of the car while Jennie sits in the back with her arms stretched up across the seat. Her back leans against the door while her eyes are closed. Jungkook is driving yelling at Jin who is on speakerphone.

“Boss agreed to buy dinner, and you wanna eat chicken...again? Let’s get noodles!” Jungkook whines. I giggled as he pouts.

“Yah! He said we could order whatever! I’ll order chicken and you order noodles!”

“Why do we have to order from too different places?” Jungkook replies.

“Just figure something out!” Someone barks in the background. It sounds like Yoongi. I can just picture Hoseok sitting among the chaos.

I laughed at their banter, but it came out a bit chopped. My nerves were getting to me. I was quiet most of the ride, but just like everyone said, be bold. Do whatever feels right. What’s the worst that could happen? He could reject me? Embarrass me in front of all the guys, and make the atmosphere?

Yikes! I just cringed at the thought.

I shut the car door and followed behind Jungkook and Jennie as he did the regular door unlocking as well as the double doors. Everyone was in the “lobby” area. Jimin and Taehyung stood around Yoongi who sat at the circular table. They were clearly annoyed him, as he sat there with a blank face as they poked at him.

Jin sat a few sat away from Yoongi and had a smaller MacBook opened.

Namjoon stood in front of the chalkboard, writing and a few things, and beside him was Hoseok. My heart hammered a bit. I could see most of his back, and a bit of his side profile. He on the circular table, some papers in his hands. He was looking between the papers in his hand and the words that Namjoon was writing.

He wore an oversized red t-shirt, and grey joggers with black sneakers. He wore one of those fancy Rolex watches on his risk and his hair was a bit messy.

There’s that same old focused face of his.

Jungkook left my side, heading towards Jin who I guess was ordering food. Jennie gave me a knowing smile and nodded towards Hoseok. I walked further into the room, feeling self-conscious as I caught the guys' attention. I no longer had my white doctor’s coat to hide in.

One of the guys' whistle and I ducked my head down shyly. Namjoon turns around at the sound but Hoseok doesn’t seem to care.

“Hi everyone,” I said shyly as I got closer.

Everyone says their hellos, well everyone but Hoseok. Namjoon smiled at me, his gaze flickering to Hoseok quickly. Namjoon turned back to the blackboard and continued with what he was writing.

Jennie also went about greeting everyone, saying her hellos before taking a seat at the table. She leans back and grins while crossing her arms. I act oblivious to the fact that everyone was secretly waiting for me to approach Hoseok. I walk around the table, ending up on his right side.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Hey,” Hoseok replies pausing for a beat before looking at me. I don’t miss the way his eyelashes flutter and his eyes flickered down my body quickly.

“How was your flight?” I asked just as his eyes met mine again. His eyes were narrowed

“It was good.” Since he was seated on the table, his line of sight was my face, making us the same height at that moment. He refocuses on what Namjoon is writing.

There’s that warmth I always feel when he’s around. His presence is so...comforting.

I stare at his profile for a second more and just...do what feels right.

I take hold of his bicep while leaning forward and I did the same thing I did at the gala. I kissed him on the cheek. I pulled back, my face still close. He looks at me, eyes wide. I smile in response, almost wanting to laugh at the deer in the headlights expression that was on his face.

“I’m glad you’re back,” I spoke softly. His eyes, no longer wide, scanned over my face. His eyes narrowed and he looked at me...wantingly? My eyes widen in response. Whoa. I drew back completely, taking my hand off his bicep and noticing just how the atmosphere in the room changed.

I faced the board, flustered by Hoseok’s gaze on me.

“S-so what are you writing, Namjoon?” I asked quickly and my heart fluttered, wondering if Hoseok’s eyes were still on me. And they were. I could feel his eyes on the profile of my face. I drew in a deep breath, trying to seem interested in what Namjoon was telling me.

Something about someone going around Korea saying they are ‘Seok’ the mafia head and creating trouble. Someone is basically pretending to be Hoseok.

I nodded understandingly.

“Boss is looking hungry,” Taehyung sang playfully as he walked around the table.

Jennie snickers and to no one, in particular, says, “But not for food.”

I turn to look at Hoseok just in time to see his gaze move from me to the paper in his hand. He scoffs, in a light manner this time, and a small smile stays on his lips as he goes back to reading the document. Chuckles sound through the room at Jennie’s remark. Hoseok doesn’t say anything, focusing on the work at hand.

But the red color of his ears said it all.

“Cute.” I cooed to myself, and Hoseok heard, his red ears getting even brighter.

Hoseok, I’m gonna break those walls down Brick by brick.

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Thank you for reading! Like, reblog and let me know what you think :)) I also have a question for you, how do you view “Y/n” in terms of personality and character? Also any predictions?

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Demon Summoning

This is the third place prize of my blog giveaway for @moonlightreetops, where a girl summons a demon. Hope you all enjoy!

F reader X M demon, 2,564 words.

The candles flickered around the summoning circle. You knelt in front of it and gave a nervous glance at your friends. Their faces were all partially obscured by shadows, but you could make out that they were anxious, but full of resolve. You flipped through a few pages of the book in front of you and squinted at the lines of text.

“We summon you from beyond the barrier, from beyond our plane. We bind you to us with our gifts-” Here, you paused and pricked your finger with a needle, squeezing out a drop of blood into the circle. Your friends followed suit, one at a time. The candles seemed to glow brighter, flickering more frequently. “Take the offering and emerge into our realm. Serve us and we will serve you.” Your voice grew louder as you concluded the chant. “I summon you to our realm, bind you with my blood, and call upon your service! Come now to our realm!”

A gust of wind whipped your hair back and the candles flickered violently, though none of them went out. You peered into the circle, but it wasn’t glowing or shimmering, and there was nothing in the middle.

“Wow,” you said. “That was anticlimactic.”

“You didn’t say the ending right!” Emma said. She abandoned her part of the circle and snatched the book away from you. “You said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. That probably ruined it!”

“You try reading this tiny cursive in dim candlelight,” you protested. “I did my best!”

“We shouldn’t have given the nonbeliever the job of reading,” Tom said, disappointment etched over his face. “It needs to be done with intent.”

“It’s my house!” you said. “If you wanted to do the reading, you should have done the ceremony in your dorm.”

“We’re not allowed candles in the dorm,” Lewis said. He lounged back, rubbing his neck. “Speaking of the dorm, I need to get back soon. Got class in the morning. C’mon, Mel.” He took his girlfriend’s hand and stood up. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“We should probably be getting back too,” Emma said. “Can I keep the book, though? I want to look at the summoning stuff. Maybe we can try again later?”

“Sure.” You handed her the book and stood up. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”

Your friends filed out of your house and you started gathering up the candles. You never should have agreed to do the summoning circle thing at your house, you thought. A bunch of wax had dripped onto the floor and it was a pain in the ass to get up. Not to mention that the chalk took a bit of scrubbing to get off the hardwood.

Finally, you finished cleaning away all trace of the circle. You gathered the candles together and went to put them into the cabinet.

As soon as you opened the drawer, the prickling sensation of someone looking at you hit you full force. You whirled around and almost screamed.

Someone was leaning over you. Someone very obviously not human.

He was tall, nearly a foot taller than you were and his skin was a rust red. Horns spiraled from his head, uneven in size and shape. Fangs poked out from under his top lip. His arms were wing-like, with thick, brownish-gray feathers and hooked, claw-like fingers. His legs were even stranger than his arms, with large, taloned feet and feathery legs. His tail was long and scaly, tufted in another clump of feathers. He wore no clothes, giving you a good view of his muscular chest. His hair was shaggy and pitch black, pulled back into a short and scruffy ponytail.

You felt abruptly dizzy and your stomach rolled unsettlingly. “Oh my God,” you whispered.

His upper lip curled, giving you a better look at his enormous fangs. “I have nothing to do with Them,” he said. His voice was deep and rumbling. “Do not speak his name in my presence.”

You sagged against the cabinet, using it to keep you upright. “You’re a demon.”

He tilted his head a little. One of his ears, which was long and tufted with a few feathers, twitched, an unexpectedly cute action. “Yes. Did you not realize what you were summoning?”

“We summoned you?” Holy shit. You hadn’t expected it to work. “But you didn’t appear in the circle!”

“I am to appear only to my master. You spoke the incantation and offered your blood, so you are my master.” He bowed, which put his head on level with yours.

“We all offered you blood,” you said. “Shouldn’t you be bonded to all of us?”

“There can only be one master. You spoke the incantation and offered your blood first, so I was summoned and bound to you.” He looked at you with bright orange eyes. Despite the color, they were surprisingly human.

“How do I release you?” you asked. You did not want a demon hanging around your house. He tilted his head at you again, eyes shimmering with something like curiosity.

“There is no release until the contract has been fulfilled.” His tail twitched, scraping against the ground. “Until I have completed the terms set for me, I am bound to you, as you are bound to me.”

“Okay,” you said, feeling a little frustrated. “What are the terms?”

There was a very long pause. The demon blinked at you, seeming confused. “The terms are set by the summoner when calling upon the demon,” he said. “You should have set the terms when you spoke the incantation and offered your blood.”

“I didn’t,” you said, trying not to let panic sound in your voice. “Should I set the terms now?”

The demon’s tail twitched again, coiling behind him. “The terms have already been set. If there were no terms, you would not have been able to summon me. The terms need not be spoken out loud, or even be consciously understood. You used a desire from your subconscious in order to summon me.”

You dropped your face into your hands. “Great,” you mumbled. “So we have no idea what it is that will release you.”

“I am not pleased about this turn of events either,” the demon said. “I cannot release myself from the binding until you have fulfilled the terms of your contract.”

“Does that mean we’re bound together? Do you have to constantly be around me?” you asked, eyeing him nervously.

“Physical proximity is not necessary, but I will need to remain on this plane until the contract has been fulfilled. Additionally, as part of the contract, you are required to maintain my well-being while I am on this plane.”

“Which means?”

“You are required to give me a place to stay while I remain in this plane or you will be in breach of contract,” he said.

“If I’m in breach of contract, does the contract end?” you asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “Breach of contract declares the contract null and void, but it also requires a certain level of payment.” You gestured for him to continue. “If you break the contract, you’ll go to Hell. Immediately.”

“Okay. Not breaking the contract, then,” you said. “I- am I already going to Hell?”

“No. Upon death, I gain temporary ownership of your soul, typically for the same time you held ownership over me. Unless, of course, you break the contract, in which Hell gains ownership of your soul.”

You let out a breath. “That’s good, at least.” You walked over to your couch and sat down. The demon followed you, standing awkwardly off to one side. “Do you have any idea what I wanted when I formed the contract.”

“I will know when it is accomplished,” the demon said. “But I cannot tell what it is before then.” You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“I didn’t expect this to work,” you said. The demon sighed.

“To be honest, I am not sure how you managed to get it to work either,” he said. “Most summoning ceremonies are finicky. You’re fortunate it went as well as it did. There are many demons who would take advantage of your naivete to wander the Earth and do as they please.”

You looked at him. “But you won’t?”

“I have no desire to do much on this plane. I have no grudge against humans.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “That may be a clue. Demons are often summoned for a purpose. There must be something to this task that I would be particularly good at.”

“What are you good at?”

“I am often summoned for mediations and other forms of conflict resolution.” You frowned at him. “I am skilled at fostering relationships between people, from platonic to romantic. My particular specialty is as a lust demon, but I can-”

“Nope! It’s not that one!” you said. He looked at you steadily, apparently unimpressed by your protestations. “It’s not- I don’t need your help with that.”

“Are you sure? It would have been subconscious, so there is a possibility you summoned me for it without realizing.”

“No, I think I would know. Trust me, it’s not that. I wasn’t thinking about that at all,” you said. “I was think about…” You trailed off. “Uh.”

“Maybe you’ll remember in time,” the demon said. “Or we will find out eventually, when the contract breaks. Or eventually you will die and the contract will break naturally.”

He sounded remarkably unconcerned about that. You frowned. “So we’re stuck with each other for a little while.”

“So it would seem.” Silence fell over the room.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Larest,” he said. “Yours?”

You told him your name. He held out a hand toward you and you shook it. “I look forward to staying with you,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to rest. Being summoned is exhausting.”

He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. You left him and headed up to your room.

You woke to the sound of someone clattering around in the kitchen. Upon heading downstairs, you were surprised to find Larest standing over the stove, fussing with what appeared to be a large platter of French toast.

“Are you cooking?” you asked.

“Being unable to fulfill the contract means that I have a lot of time on my hands. I may as well fill it with something useful,” he said. “Demons don’t need to eat, but cooking is relaxing.” He offered you the plate. It smelled good and an experimental bite told you that it tasted good as well.

“Did you have any revelations about what your end of the contract might be?” he asked as you sat at the counter.

“No. I was thinking about how stupid the demon summoning was,” you admitted. “Maybe I wanted my friends to be proven wrong?”

He considered that. “No. That would be an unfulfillable contract. This has to be something I could reasonably do.”

“Oh.” You took another mouthful of French toast. “Then I don’t know.”

Larest sighed. “Then the search continues, I suppose.”

Despite the pressing concern of a demon in your house, work and school were still vital. After assuring that he would be okay in the house on his own, you left.

When you returned, the sight of your place stunned you. He had cleaned it. Top to bottom, everything had been dusted and reorganized. “As I said,” Larest spoke when he saw you, “I get bored when I’m not fulfilling contracts. I needed something to do.”

You could have hugged him. You almost did, except that he still looked rather fearsome. “Thank you. I’ve been trying to get up the energy to clean this place for ages, but I’ve never had the time.”

He seemed to swell with pride at the compliment. “I’m glad you appreciate it. Not many people bother to thank the demon they’ve formed a contract with.”

“That’s rude,” you said. “And you didn’t have to clean the house or make me breakfast. I appreciate it.”

Larest dipped his head to you. “And I appreciate your appreciation.”

Days passed. You settled into a routine with Larest- you would leave for work, after he made you breakfast, and you would come home to a neat house and, if he was feeling up to it, dinner. On weekends, Larest seemed content to hang around the house, but he would often disguise himself and run errands with you.

Days turned into weeks and the weeks started to spread into months, but no progress was made on breaking the contract. If you were being entirely honest, you had to admit that you weren’t putting a lot of effort into attempting to break it. It was nice having someone else around, and Larest was good company.

You sat together one night, casually draped over the couch. There was movie playing on the TV, but you were having a hard time focusing on it. One of his hands was resting on the couch next to yours and that was taking up most of your mind.

Slowly, you moved your hand over toward his. Your pinky fingers were less than an inch apart. Less than a centimeter. Barely a hair’s breadth from touching.

Your fingers touched. It felt like a sharp tingling sensation jumped through your arm and into your chest, making your heart race. Larest shifted, turning his head to look at you. Your eyes met.

His face broke into a small, but startlingly bright smile. His hand gently wrapped around your own.

And then he sat bolt upright and gasped. His hand slipped away from yours.

“What is it?” you asked. He turned to you, eyes wide.

“The contract,” he said slowly. “It broke.”

“It was fulfilled?” You stared at him, but he didn’t seem to be joking. “How? What did you do?”

There was a long pause. “I believe,” he said after a moment, “I may have just… thought about the fact that I love you.”

You felt your mouth open, but you couldn’t speak. “It would not be the first time a demon has been summoned by someone who wanted love,” he said. “I assume you feel similarly?”

“Yes,” you said, finally finding your tongue. “I love you too.” You glanced him over, half-expecting him to vanish. “But now that the contract’s been fulfilled, can you stay here?”

“I’ll be recalled to Hell within a few moments,” Larest said. “But there is another thing you can do.” He leaned forward and spoke hurriedly into your ear.

A few days later, you gathered your candles and the summoning book and set up the circle again. You knelt and spoke the incantation. Blood dripped from your finger onto the circle and you focused your thoughts.

There was a rush of wind and you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, Larest was standing there, wings spread.

“Mortal,” he said, “have you determined your terms of the contract?”

“Yes.” You stood. “In order to fulfill the contract, you must stay with me for the remainder of my life, living as my partner and lover. Upon my death, I pledge myself to you in the afterlife.”

Larest beamed and stepped out of the circle, enfolding you in his wings. “I should think this will be quite an easy contract to fulfil. I look forward to it.”

#exophilia #demon #demon boyfriend #monster #monster boyfriend #monster lover

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unsettledink · 3 years

Text

Touchy Feely - Fluffuary Day 17

Prompt: Post heat/rut

Word Count: 2209

Summary: Their first heat was a disaster from start to finish. So this one? Tony doesn't have a clue what to expect.

It’s not that Tony is complaining— not really. After all, what is there to complain about?

Maybe the fact that Quentin has been asleep, half on his lap, for what feels like hours and Tony’s legs are very numb and he really could stand to pee.

Or maybe that Peter is completely conked out, utterly useless when he should be the one doing all the taking care of things, like the alpha he is. Instead, it’s looking more and more like it's going to fall to Tony, as the only member of this little group that’s not completely exhausted.

Tony has never been so glad to be a beta in his life.

Quentin stirs, a little shift to the side and a huff of breath; Tony looks down at him, unsure if this is about to be good, or… not so. If Quentin’s heat has finally broken, or if he’s going to be up for yet another round that no one is going to look forward to.

Quentin shifts again, his eyes opening, slowly. He blinks, Tony watching closely. Frowns.

“Oh my god,” he says, his face scrunching up. “I feel disgusting. Ugh,” and Tony feels a wave of relief. It’s over. “Seriously,” Quentin adds, “what the hell. I’ve never felt like this after a heat.” He levers himself up, groaning. “It feels like there’s fur in my mouth.”

“You’re so whiny,” Peter mumbles, still curled up with his eyes closed, and Tony has to smother his laugh while Quentin glares over at him.

He leans past Quentin and grabs the glass he brought over earlier— mostly for himself, honestly. “Here,” he says.

Quentin pushes himself up the rest of the way until he’s sitting and gulps it down. “Alright,” he says, stretching, “I’m going— fucking— okay,” he snaps, twisting his head to try and get a look behind himself. “Who came on my back, seriously? Why? That’s disgusting.”

“Don’t look at me,” Tony says. Peter sighs.

“Fine,” Peter says. “It was me, look— it just— I wasn’t planning on it or anything!”

“Disgusting,” Quentin repeats. “Move, Tony. I need to shower as of yesterday.” He brings his hand up, runs it through his hair and down the back of his neck; freezes. Tony can just barely see his face, how he’s gone wide eyed, fingers following the line of his collar. Did he forget about it? Granted, he was already pretty out of it when Peter put it on.

“Uh,” he says, hand still on it. “I— this. This probably shouldn’t get soaked?” and it’s kind of funny to hear him sound so uncertain; it takes a bit to rattle him. “Can— will you—”

“Oh,” Peter says. Pushes himself about a bit and sort of crawls over to Quentin, leaning against him. “Sure, I’ll get it.”

He fumbles as he’s taking it off, Quentin’s head ducked, baring his nape. His shoulders have gone stiff, tight, unhappy about something. That they—okay, Peter, but it’s still both of them—even put one on him?

Or that it’s coming off?

The latter, Tony decides as Quentin half raises his hand when Peter pulls the collar away, reaching for his neck before he stops himself. Peter notices, because Peter’s really taken Tony’s ‘you know, you can read up on this stuff too, kid’ to heart.

He gets his hand around Quentin’s neck, pulling him back, Peter plastered against him. Kisses the side of Quentin’s neck, and lower, over the bond mark, right where Quentin had complained about Peter coming on him, marking him even more.

Quentin shivers, his breath a little shaky as he exhales. Tony can see him perfectly like this, tipped back by Peter’s hand, mouth open and eyes closed and gone all soft again, all wanting and picture perfect omega again.

He opens his eyes slowly, dazed, and catches Tony staring at him; well, Tony’s hardly ashamed of that. Blinks, and then blushes, creeping up along his jaw, his ears going red first. “Lemme go,” he says, “I need— I need to clean up.”

He’s off the bed the second Peter lets go, practically fleeing, and Tony takes a moment to get in a good look at that ass, fuck.

“Hey!” Peter calls. “Don’t take forever! The rest of us feel pretty gross too!” Sighs when Quentin just waves a hand at him and flops back down. “Ugh,” he says. “He’s so hot. How are you both so hot? It’s not fair.”

Tony snorts. “Go take a better look in the mirror, baby,” he says and Peter wrinkles his nose. Tony actually doesn’t feel bad at all; he got his shower earlier, while they were both passed out and wouldn’t miss him. They still had, though, Quentin rolling over and clinging the second Tony got back in bed.

“You know,” he tells Peter, getting up and stretching himself, “that shower is more than big enough for two. We’ve tested that out enough.”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “But I’m a little worried he’d like, kick me out or bite me or something. He was so touchy last time.”

“He’s always touchy,” Tony says, and it’s true. “Come on, up. You know he’s going to pitch a fit about getting back into a filthy bed.” To be fair—not that he particularly wants to be fair when it comes to Quentin—it’s pretty bad.

Peter grumbles the whole time, low level cranky little complaints. “I don’t know how other alphas manage this all by themselves,” he says as they haul off the sheets. “I would be failing so hard right now if you weren’t here.”

“Don’t ask me, kid.” Tony gives the sheets a wary look. This… is not his area of expertise. “You good with this? Got it? Cause I’m going to see about getting us some food.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer.

Peter’s gone when Tony gets back, but the shower’s still running. Or running again, because Quentin is sprawled out on the bed, looking much better.

His head pops up. “Is that food?”

Tony looks down at it. “No,” he says. “Definitely not. What gives you that idea?”

Quentin glares at him. “I’m starving, give it here.”

Well, that had sort of been the plan; still, the urge to annoy Quentin is always present. “What if I’m saving it for Peter?” He settles on the bed, sliding the tray onto the nightstand. “Maybe you should ask to share nicer than that.”

There’s a moment where Tony’s not sure if Quentin’s going to explode, or sulk.

Or neither, an option Tony hadn’t considered. Quentin leans in, shifting until he’s right along Tony’s side. Tucks his face into the curve of Tony’s neck, his lips just brushing skin when he speaks. “Tony,” he says. “I’m hungry. Can’t you do something about that?” and even if Tony doesn’t have a gland there, doesn’t have those instincts, he still shivers.

“Goddammit, Quentin,” he mutters. “Yeah, take whatever you want. It was for you all along anyway.”

He feels the huff of breath as Quentin laughs, the press of lips as Quentin kisses that spot before he leans in a little more. “Tony,” Quentin says, dragging it out. “Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

What is he— oh. Huh. “Are you actually asking to be fed?” Tony says incredulously. That does not seem like Quentin’s thing.

“Maybe,” Quentin says. “Kind of just wanted to see if you would.”

“If you want,” Tony says, and he would.

Quentin hesitates, pressed against him. “Not this time,” he says finally. “Maybe another though. And—” His hesitation is longer. “Would you—”

There’s a movement by Tony’s thigh, Quentin pushing the collar along the bed.

It’s so, so tempting to make a fuss over it, see just how red he can get Quentin. But Tony doesn’t, in the end; he can practically feel how Quentin is near squirming in embarrassment and yet he still managed to—sort of—ask.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he says. “Here, chin up,” and Quentin keeps his eyes closed as Tony closes it around his throat.

Peter comes out while they’re eating. Or rather, while Tony’s nibbling a little and Quentin is devouring every bit he can. “Oh my god, food,” Peter says. “Yessss!”

He reaches forward and Quentin growls.

“...no?” Peter says after a long, silent moment, he and Tony both staring at Quentin, who doesn’t even seem to notice. “What, you don’t share now?”

“Get your own,” Quentin tells him. “Tony brought this for me,” and… okay, maybe Tony had implied that, but he hadn’t meant—

Peter looks at him and Tony shrugs. It’s probably not worth arguing about, if Quentin’s in that kind of mood. “Fine,” Peter says, crawling onto the bed. “Will you get me something too, Tony?”

“No,” Quentin snaps before Tony even has a chance to tell Peter yes. “Ugh, Peter. Go away.”

“What?”

“Go away,” Quentin says. “I am so tired of smelling you. All alpha everywhere; just go somewhere else for a while, okay? I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Wow,” Peter says. “Rude,” and he looks a little hurt, not that Tony blames him.

Tony catches Peter’s eyes, rolls his. “Come on, kid,” he says. “Let give him some space to sulk on his own then.”

Quentin huffs and grabs Tony’s wrist. “Not you,” he says. “I didn’t say you could go. You barely smell like anything at all. What?” he adds. “I don’t want to be alone, that’s ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Peter mutters. “Whatever. I’m going to go sleep for a week, and then I’m never going to let you live it down that you wanted Tony for this instead of me.”

“Peter,” Tony says, “no, hey, don’t leave me alone with him!” but it’s too late.

Quentin finishes eating, completely ignoring how Tony’s sniping at him, and curls up on the bed. Tugs at Tony until he lies down next to him, and then Quentin attaches himself like an octopus, clinging and all over Tony. He’s quiet, hopefully falling asleep.

Tony’s nearly there himself when Quentin sits up. “Where’s Peter?”

“What?” Tony says. “What do you mean?”

Quentin frowns at him. “What do you think I mean?” he says. “Why isn’t he here? Where did he go?” He hesitates, a slip Tony will do him the favor of ignoring. “He should be here.”

He cannot believe this. “He’s not here,” Tony says, staring up at Quentin, “because you sent him away.”

“Why would I do that?” Quentin says. “That’s stupid. It doesn’t make any sense. Get him back.”

Tony pushes himself up. Look, he can forgive a certain amount of… weirdness, with Quentin being an omega and all, but this is— “Are you kidding me?”

“Get him back,” Quentin insists. “I don’t like this. He should be here.”

“Friday,” Tony says, “will you tell Peter to get back here asap because his omega is being a pain in my ass.”

“I’m not,” Quentin says, and he doesn’t sound like himself. Doesn’t look like himself, the way he’s curled in; not much, but far more than usual. “He should be here, that’s all. Why wouldn’t he be here? He’s not mad, right? He’s not— nothing happened, did it?”

He’ll never, ever tell Quentin—because it seems like a perfect way for Tony to get his head bit off—but he’s a little pitiful like this, all worried and fussy. Maybe Tony doesn’t have the same urges Peter might, but he’s not a complete asshole. Not in the face of those eyes.

“Oh, you are going to murder me when you are back in your right mind and remember this,” Tony says. He sets his hand against the back of Quentin’s neck and Quentin twitches. “No, nothing bad happened, sweetheart. He’s not mad at you.”

“But he’s not here—”

“Ugh,” Peter says, almost stumbling as come through the door. “This had better be good. I was nearly asleep. What is it?”

“You were gone,” Quentin says, almost sulky. Tony half expects him to cross his arms, for fuck’s sake. “You’re supposed to be here and you weren’t. Where were you? Why did you go?”

Peter’s mouth is hanging open; he looks at Tony and Tony can only shake his head. “Don’t bother,” he tells Peter. “Just come here.”

“Seriously?” Peter mutters, but he curls up on the bed next to Quentin, who promptly shoves him over more, lying down and wiggling around until he’s got them right where he wants them. “You’re so bossy,” Peter says as Quentin pushes his head to the side, burying his face against Peter’s scent point.

“Shhhh,” Quentin says, and reaches behind him until he finds Tony’s arm; yanks him forward, wrapping Tony’s arm around his waist. The way he’s got his head stretched out, Tony just knows Quentin’s going to end up snoring. He pulls at him a little, trying to get him rearranged just enough that won’t happen.

Quentin cracks open one eye and growls at him, softer and higher pitched then what Peter had gotten. Tony sighs, and gives up.

“So, so bossy,” Tony whispers, and Quentin nods. Smug bastard; of course he’d be pleased with that. Just like an omega to get them both wrapped around his finger.

Or, well. Around him, quite literally.

#fluffuary #quenterony #tony x peter x quentin #starker #spiderio #quentony #my work #fanfiction #series: happenstance

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friendship-ended-with-pokespe · 4 years

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Kirby and the Dangerous Gourmet Mansion!? Chapter 4

The airship was gracefully landing right in the middle of the field. In front of where Kirby and Waddle Dee were watching, the entrance door opened without a noise. From there, the one to show himself was...... “Just as I thought, it's Meta Knight!” Kirby shouted.

“Long time no see, Kirby, and Waddle Dee too.”

Meta Knight, the owner of the airship, lightly nodded to the two and slowly came down from the ramp. Meta Knight is a mysterious swordsman who hides his face with a mask. Not just his face, but neither his birthplace nor his past is known to anyone. He's a gentleman who dislikes cowardly acts, but would occasionally join hands with King Dedede in order to accomplish his own goals-to sum it up, he is a swordsman whose creeds or intentions are all wrapped in mystery. No one even knows where he usually lives. At times, he would appear in Dream Land like it suddenly came to his mind. Right now, for him to have arrived......by any chance, it might mean a precursor to an incident......!? “Lord Meta Knight......what brings you to Dream Land?” Waddle Dee asked nervously. “Ah. It’s because I received an invitation to a party.” Answered Meta Knight in a carefree tone. The invitation......! Both Kirby and Waddle Dee reacted to that word. “That means......it can't be......” “I wonder if you guys know? A birthday party for someone called Mrs. ParfaitLike who moved to Dream Land......” “Just as I thought!” Shouted Kirby and Waddle Dee at the same time, who both jumped at Meta Knight. Meta Knight stumbled in surprise. “Hey......what gives......!?” “Now that’s Meta Knight! You’re friends with Mrs. ParfaitLike!?” “N-No, it's not that I’m friends with her, but I've met her before at another party, so......I got invited just because of that.” “Hey, show us the invitation!” “D-Don’t jump around, Kirby!” Rebuking Kirby, Meta Knight showed a sealed letter. “This is it.” “Wow! Is this the real thing!?” “Of course.” Taking out the invitation from the envelope, Kirby and Waddle Dee looked at it thoroughly. “This is really it...... It’s written all properly. It says......“Please come to my birthday party. I’ll be waiting with all my heart!”” “Wahhh! You’re so lucky, Meta Knight!” “I thought I said not to jump around!” Avoiding Kirby and Waddle Dee, Meta Knight put the invitation away. “Just what is all this fuss about?” “It’s because I also want to go to the party! But I can't, since the invitation didn’t come!” “You want to......go to the party?” “Yeah, of course!” Not losing to Kirby, Waddle Dee too raised his voice. “His Highness is also waiting for the invitation! He's looking forward to it, wondering when it’ll arrive......and yet!” “I see.” Understanding the situation, Meta Knight nodded. “Actually, I’m also in a bit of trouble, you see.” “Trouble? With what?” “It’s written in this invitation that they want me to come with a partner, since they’re going to dance all night long. So I need a partner. However, I don't have anyone to accompany me with.” Opening both his hands, Meta Knight shook his head. “Since I can't find a partner, I was about to inquire if it's alright that I want to attend alone.” “......Partner......!” Kirby jumped up.

“I'll be your partner! Bring me with you, Meta Knight!” “H......Hmm. I don't have any problem with what......however......it’s a dance party, yes? Kirby, can you dance?” “I sure can! Bon festival dance is my speciality!” “No, it's not a Bon festival dance. If you can't do dances like waltz, or tango......” “Waffle? Dango? Yeah, I also love waffle and dango!” “Wrong......you got it all wrong, Kirby.” Meta Knight is being pushed down by Kirby’s vigor. “Umm, Lord Meta Knight......” Said Waddle Dee timidly. “What is it, Waddle Dee?” “His Majesty is also waiting for that......invitation.” “......Hm?” “Can’t you take both Kirby and His Majesty to the party as your partner?” King Dedede may be selfish and capricious, but he is his precious lord as far as Waddle Dee is concerned. He wants to grant that wish of his if possible. Crossing his arms, Meta Knight groaned. “That's a lot to ask of. I'm determined to have only one person as a partner. Kirby or Dedede, you can't choose both.” Waddle Dee glanced at Kirby. Kirby kept quiet with a stiffened expression. Kirby is always optimistic, but is so stubborn when entwined with food. It definitely fills him with determination to not back down. (In this situation...... It's unlikely that anyone would concede......) Waddle Dee was lost in his thoughts. Kirby is his best friend, and King Dedede is his precious lord. He wants to grant whichever one’s wish, but...... “In any case, let's go visit King Dedede. Shouldn't we decide after hearing his opinion?” Said Meta Knight. “Umm......” Kirby had a dissatisfied look. “If you take someone like King Dedede, he’ll without a doubt spoil the party. I’m pretty sure I'll be a better pick......” “We need to decide that fairly. Well, let’s go.” Meta Knight turned his cape.

Castle Dedede was shaking violently. Having heard Burning Leo’s report, King Dedede was running about in anger. “Shoot! That jerk Kirby! He's so darn repulsive!” “He really is......” Complained Burning Leo, his eyes dim with tears. “He's so cruel! He had the nerve to use my fire power, and......waaaaaah!” “Stop crying, so irritating! You’re the one to blame, you good-for-nothing!” King Dedede kicked Burning Leo in a fit of anger. Just then, with Meta Knight as the lead, Kirby and Waddle Dee were about to enter the room. Easily avoiding Burning Leo rushing towards him, Meta Knight greeted him with elegance. “It's been awhile, King Dedede. It's good to see you healthy as always.” “Hm......? Is that you, Meta Knight? What brings you to......” In mid-sentence, the king noticed Kirby behind Meta Knight. His expression changed. “KIIIIIIIIIIIIRBY!!!!! What the heck did you come here for!!? So that’s it, you came to destroy Castle Dedede! I can't allow that, therefore I'll be your opponent!” “Settle down, king. Kirby has no relation to this. Your business is with me.” “What did you say......?” “It’s about a certain woman’s birthday party.” Meta Knight took out the invitation. King Dedede stared intently at the invitation. “D-Don’t tell me that’s......ParfaitLike’s......!”

“Correct. Do you know Mrs.ParfaitLike?” “I never met her before. I have heard of a large and showy mansion built on the shore of Lake Dedede though......” “......Lake Dedede, you say?” Meta Knight was suspicious with what he heard. “If I’m not mistaken, I heard that her mansion is near the bank of a river in the western edge......?” “That’s right. That lake is called Dedede Lake.” “......This is the first time hearing that.” “It’s common sense in Dream Land! Take a look!” King Dedede pointed at a large map attached to the wall. Approaching the map, Meta Knight read out the toponyms written on it. “Mt. Dedede, Lake Dedede, River Dedede, Valley Dedede, Dedede Plains......here or there, it’s all Dedede.” “Hahaha! Duh. Since I’m the great ruler of Dream Land!” “......The original toponyms have all been erased and rewritten.” “Be quiet! The toponym isn’t worth worrying about. The problem is that invitation.” King Dedede stared at Meta Knight in envy, and paced around restlessly. “In the first place, why is it that the invitation has arrived to you jerk and not me? So the mailman is cutting corners......or is it that they got the address wrong......hmmm......” “For that reason, I have a proposal for you. In order to attend the party, a partner is needed, but I don't have anyone that’s suitable.” “......Did you say partner?” “Yes. Therefore, I want for either Kirby or you to go with me, but......” King Dedede paused suddenly. “You mean to say......that you want me to come with you to the party?” “I don’t mean that I chose you, not yet. It's either you or Kirby.” “ARE YOU SCREWING WITH ME!!!?” Yelled King Dedede with his face all red. Meta Knight shook his head in astonishment. “I wouldn’t screw with anyone or so, but you’re discontent with being my partner? I see, after all, you are prideful. It can't be helped then. Forget what I said. I'll choose Kirby as my partner.” “Yippee!” Kirby jumped about in delight. King Dedede hurriedly stopped Meta Knight who was about to leave the room. “N-No! That's not it. I just wanted to say that you were screwing around in saying that you were wavering between me or Kirby. I’ve got to be the more suitable one!” “......Oh?” Meta Knight paused, and turned to face King Dedede. “So you are interested in being my partner.” “Y-Yup. If you say that's the only way, it can't be helped. Let's go together as partners!” “......I didn't really say that that's the only way......” “If you took someone like Kirby, you'll be humiliated! Anyhow, that guy is impolite, vulgar, and on top of that is unbelievably gluttonous!” “Which one!? Don't you, King Dedede, eat like a horse as well!?” Retorted Kirby, not wanting to lose. Muttering, “They're all the same......” Meta Knight stepped in between the pair glaring at each other. “Wait, let's not quarrel over something like this. Let's decide it fairly.” “How!?” “That's right......with rock-paper-scissors, for example.” King Dedede laughed as if he was belittling him. “Rock-paper-scissors is for children. For men, a test of skills should do it!” “Alright! Bring it on!” With a sigh, Meta Knight interrupted the pair who seemed like they could start fighting at any moment. “Didn't I say to wait? Tedious quarrels aren’t what I desire for. If you can't be satisfied with rock-paper-scissors, I can't ask you guys anymore.” “Huh!?” “I’ll find another partner. Farewell.” “W-Wait!” In a panic, Kirby and King Dedede clung onto Meta Knight. “I love rock-paper-scissors! Rock-paper-scissors is the best!” “M-Me too! Hurray for rock-paper-scissors!” “......Hurry up and start then.” Putting some distance between them, Kirby and Dedede glared at each other. “Let’s go, Kirby!” “I won't lose!” “Then......rock......paper......!” “Wait.” Meta Knight calmly stepped in between the pair. “What are you saying? Don't interrupt us, Meta Knight.” Complained King Dedede. “King Dedede, why do you have a hammer hidden in your back when it's rock-paper-scissors?” “Huh? Ah? T-This is......” In a panic, King Dedede dropped the hammer that he was hiding and so made a flimsy excuse. “It's for my protection! I can't win rock-paper-scissors without this!” “Liar! You were planning to strike me with it, yeah? That's sneaky, King Dedede!” To Kirby yelling, Meta Knight told him calmly. “Kirby, that goes for you too. Right now, you were in an ‘Inhale’ stance with all your heart.” “......Huh? R-Really? I was just taking a deep breath......” Kirby whistled like he was trying to avoid the inconvenience at hand. Meta Knight sighed. “Dear me. Can’t you guys have some decency for just rock-paper-scissors?” “We......can......probably.” “I can’t trust you guys.” At that moment, Waddle Dee was watching in the corner of the room, and nervously opened his mouth. “Erm......I was thinking of something......” “Hm? What is it, Waddle Dee?” “Since His Highness and Kirby both want to go to the party......I feel that narrowing it down to one person is a bit pitiful.” “But only one person is to be selected as a partner.” “Yes. So I was thinking about it......” “Ah! I get it!” Kirby jumped up. “Me and King Dedede could go together! Meta Knight can stay at home!” “Ohh? For Kirby, what a great idea. I agree!” “Yay!” Forgetting their usual animosity, Kirby and King Dedede held hands together in delight. Meta Knight shook his head. “-I'm the one that received the invitation. It makes no sense for me to not go.” “But you know......” “No buts. Why don't we hear Waddle Dee’s idea to the end?” Receiving encouragement, Waddle Dee shyly made a proposal. “Wouldn't it be great if both His Majesty and Kirby took one role?” “Both take......one role?” “Yes. Since His Highness is large, while Kirby is small. If Kirby gets on top of His Majesty, and hides it well with a cape and a cloth, I believe they’ll be seen as one person.” “A two-on-one role......huh.” Turning his head towards Kirby and King Dedede, Meta Knight stared at the two from the top of their head to the tip of their toes. “Indeed, that might be a great idea.” Kirby and King Dedede looked at each other in the face. Both of them couldn’t even imagine what’ll happen to them. “Let's try it out. Kirby, try getting on top of King Dedede.” Said Meta Knight. “......Wha......” “If you don't want to, I won't take you to the party......” “I get it! I’ll do it!” Kirby sprang up and got on top of King Dedede’s head. The king frowns all of a sudden. “Why is it that I have to be your stupid stool!?” “If you don’t want to, the party......” “I get it, I get it! I don't have any complaints!” “Sorry Waddle Dee, but can you bring the king’s cloak?” “Right away, sir!” From King Dedede’s closet, Waddle Dee brought out a gorgeous cloak. Meta Knight put the cloak on King Dedede and Kirby to conceal them. With the king’s head and entire body completely hidden, Kirby's face is the only thing poking out.

“Hmm, looks good. With this, it looks like one person.” “It’s suffocating!” Complained King Dedede. “Loosen the cloak a little. How about now?” “Hmm......well, I can tolerate it so-and-so.” “By the way, King Dedede, is dancing your forte?” “Hm? Did you say dance?” “Yes. At Mrs. ParfaitLike’s party, a dance will be held all night long, it seems. It's not my favorite, but it’d be impolite if you don’t dance to at least one song.” “Hahaha, leave it all to me! For me, dancing is a forte of forte!” Yelled King Dedede, while suddenly breaking into a dance. Swaying his hips, he’s skipping left and right noisily while at times uttering: “Wahoo! Dedede dance!” Kirby, on top of the king’s head, screamed. “H-Hold on a sec, stop that! I might fall down!” Meta Knight was bewildered, but came back to his senses with Kirby’s voice. “Stop, King Dedede. That's not the dance I want.” “......What did you say?” “Can’t you dance more elegant and stylishly?” “Huh? But it was really elegant and refined.” “What was......I'll be humiliated at this rate. Let’s practice waltz at least.” Skipping gently, Meta Knight took King Dedede’s hands. “Are you going to hold my hands and dance?” “Of course. It's waltz, after all.” “Isn't it weird to do it with a man?” “......Hmm. You're right, now that you mention it.” Meta Knight pondered over it. “I forgot all about it. Usually, a dance is done in pairs of men and women......we have no choice but to to trick them by cross-dressing as a woman......” Kirby stared in amazement. “Huh? Then are you going to cross-dress? Wow, I wanna see!” “Not me! You guys are going to take the female role.” “We are?” “Me......cross......dressing?” King Dedede was trembling in his voice. “Yup. You might hate it, but there's no other way. Endure it.” “Yeah! I hate it so much, and it's unbearable, but I'll still endure it!” “......King Dedede? Your voice is energetic......?” “You're imagining things! I hate it and can't endure it! The heck are you doing, Waddle Dee!? Hurry up and bring me the clothes! That's right, cosmetics too!” “Y-Yessir!” Once more, Waddle Dee opened the king’s closet, and brought some more clothes. “Which one should I choose......?” “You idiot! Isn't there a dress with more frills!? That one, the one that's pink and has a large ribbon!” “Y-Yessir!” “King Dedede......” Said Meta Knight, shuddering in fear. “Why do you have a dress like that? Not to mention cosmetics......?” “To not be bewildered at any situation, those who are kings are always fully prepared!” “I-I see......” Throwing off the cloak, King Dedede changed into the dress chock-full of frills that Waddle Dee brought. “It’s a bit too tight. The dress seems to have shrunk.” “No, I think you got bigger......” “Did you say something?” “No, not really.” “How is it? It suits me, don't you think!?” Running up to the mirror, King Dedede casted his whole body and was absorbed in it. On top of the king’s head, Kirby groaned and was about to fall down. “T-This is awful......I feel gross......” “Shut up, Kirby! To you, this beauty can't be understood. Now, next up is the make-up, and-” “Wait, King Dedede.” Meta Knight stopped him. “What's the point of you doing the make-up? Your face is hidden. Kirby's face is the one that's out on the surface.” “......Mm?” “If you're gonna do make-ups, you’ve got to do it on Kirby.” “Eh!? I'm the one to put on makeup?” Shouted Kirby in surprise. “I've never worn makeup before! I don't want to!” “Endure it. Help me out, Waddle Dee.” “Right on it!” “I don’t wanna......” Kirby reluctantly jumped down from King Dedede’s head. Waddle Dee rushed over with a complete set of cosmetic tools containing lipstick, mascara, etc. “Let's start. Hold still, Kirby.” “Waddle Dee, have you done makeup before?” “I've helped out His Highness before, so I do know how to, sir.” Applying foundation on Kirby’s face, Waddle Dee then applied a pink blush. As one would expect, he's skilled with his hands precisely because of getting pushed around by the king everyday. “Rose pink for lipstick......purple for eyeshadow......and plenty of volume for mascara......all done!” Kirby dashed to the front of the mirror, and looked into his face with make-ups on. At that moment, Kirby staggered with his breath taken away. “S......S......So......!” “What is it, Kirby?” “So......!” “Are you that shocked? It's not that much......” “So-So cute~~~!” Holding both his hands to his lips, Kirby jumped around. “I couldn't recognize myself! I had no idea I look this cute with make-up on!” Kirby turned around and made eye contact with Meta Knight, who fell into silence. “Hey, hey! You think so too, right, Meta Knight!? What should I do? It's too cute!~” Kirby blinked with the eyelash that was lengthened thanks to the mascara. “Erm......it’s iffy......but......” “Iffy? How?” “Well, it might be cute compared to King Dedede......” “What did you just say!? Do you have a bad eyesight, Meta Knight!? Surely you know that I'm a hundred times cuter than this grossness!” “Who are you calling gross!?” “Hey, stop arguing. From now on, you guys are literally one in flesh, since you two will be one person.” Kirby and King Dedede both grudgingly stopped exchanging glares. “Hmm......I'm not inclined to do so, but it can't be helped. It's all so I can go to the party.” “Yup. Let's get along until the party ends!” “Alright, looks all good with this.” Meta Knight turned to face Waddle Dee. “Can you modify the dress so that King Dedede could completely be hidden?” “Yes!” “Also, after that, prepare a wig to put on Kirby.” “Understood!” “I'll leave it to you.” Meta Knight looked back at King Dedede and Kirby. His expression is hidden behind a mask, but......a tremendously worrying aura is hanging over his whole body. “Anyways, both of you, make sure that no one gets suspicious of you.” “I know that!” “You can leave it to me!” King Dedede and Kirby both did a fist pump. They are in such a sync that their tense relationship they always have seemed like all a lie. “For now, how about we practice dancing......” “Yessir!” In enthusiasm, Kirby once again jumped on top of the king’s head. Taking King Dedede’s hands, Meta Knight started practicing waltz. “One, two, three......one, two, three......no! You move with the direction that I'm leading!” “You’re noisy......ah-, waltz is so boring. Dedede Dance is so much trendier and elegant......” “Be quiet and practice.” On top of the king’s head, Kirby was entertained in the beginning, but gradually became bored with nothing to do. “Ah-. So boring. I want to dance too.” “You have the role of the ‘head.’ It's better for you to just smile without doing anything.” “That's boring though-. I got it, I'll just sing. Lalala~! What nice weather~! What a nice breakfast~. Lalala~!” “Stop singing!”

With King Dedede’s dance not having improved at all, and Kirby’s arbitrary behavior not having subsided at all...... Finally, came the day of the party.

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#kirby novels #kirby of the stars #light novel #translation #kirby #waddle dee #king dedede #meta knight

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Ruinenlust, 1/2 (Max/Violet) - Puppy

A/N: Oh, wow it’s been a while since I posted. It’s good to be back. First of all, I’d like to thank @artificialpuddle for beta'ing; your comments are much appreciated. Second of all, I hope you enjoy this.

AO3 Link

Summary:

Ruinenlust - German. To take pleasure in ruin.

A few weeks after the events of “Peripeteia”, Violet and Max try again at another escapade with a little more preparation this time.

“If only you knew what you looked like right now…” The mistress smirked, putting one of her vinyl-booted feet on her kneeling, blindfolded submissive’s shoulder. The other was placed between her submissive’s feet, the top of the boot growing slick with arousal. The room was nearly quiet, only the sounds of heavy breathing filled the silence.

Laura kept as still as possible; her mind focused on keeping still, not letting any more of her neediness show. The ambiance alone could push her past her limits; the combination of the slow, sensual music and the nearly degrading naughts being directed towards her nearly made her burst. If only she could get some more friction against her goddess’s boot. She only stopped as she felt her love’s breath go hot against her.

Her Goddess, her Mistress, her Everything leaned towards her, bit a hickey into her neck and then whispered into her ear,

“Max, did you get in my smut stash?”

The grey haired girl, startled by the shift in volume, quickly clapped the paperback shut as she nearly fell out of the loveseat. A copy of Tainted by the Chains of Love ended up at the shorter girl’s feet. It was originally found in a thrift store as something to fill the bottom shelf of Violet’s pin-up magazines and other pulp novels.

She could have lightened the conversation, but they both knew she was never one to sugar coat things. There was no use lying to her either, especially over something so trivial as a book. “Do forgive me. I was under the impression the bookshelves were communal?”

“You’re good. Just tell me before you’re gonna borrow anything from that shelf, kay? I was worried I lost it.” Violet bent over and picked up the novel, recognizing the bookmarked page. “Oh, you’re at a spicy part too.”

Max’s lips pursed into an awkward smile as her girlfriend further through the pages. She half expected her to read an excerpt aloud. “That is… definitely a word I would use to describe it.”

“Didn’t realize you were into this dime store stuff. I figured this was too raunchy and dirty for your tastes.” She scrunched her nose in fake disgust.

Max didn’t respond as she slumped back onto the loveseat. “I… I figured I’d try something different?”

“And that’s completely valid. I guess I should ask what you think of it so far.” Violet stared into her girlfriend’s eyes that waited for a response. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby.”

“Well… um…” Max flexed her finger repeatedly, as if she was reaching for the right thing to say. This type of literature wasn’t in her radar; hence it was harder for her to review. Most of the time she veered away from those types of books, but there was something about this one that made her want to keep reading. Was it the fact that the woman she loved so dearly had read it?

Nevertheless, she decided to humor her and still give her opinions. “I think it’s good so far…”

“Maxie, you’re a good chunk into it. Surely you have more to say… About the plot, how much of that there is.” She slightly raised the pitch of her voice, clearly getting some satisfaction from the secondhand embarrassment.

Max nodded her head, swimming through her thoughts to find coherent sentences, as she straightened her posture. “The writer seems to definitely know what they are talking about. The dynamic between Laura and Rachel isn’t just a thinly-veiled excuse for abuse, unlike some novels I can name. There is open communication and safe words and Rachel listens when her sub says no or when she wants to stop and… Yes, I know it’s basic human decency, but it’s just so…” She squealed with excitement. “And the dynamic… it’s just perfect and-”

“By god, you’re a nerd.” Violet couldn’t help but let out a laugh. There wasn’t a response this time. “Is something the matter, booboo? I’d normally get, like, a slap on the wrist for that.” There was still no answer. “Come on, I don’t hate it as much as I used to. I’m a masochist now, remember?” She shimmied closer towards Max, the pink silk from her robe brushing against her love’s skin and her breasts nearly at eye level.

She sighed, holding her head in her hands. The embarrassment crept from her face into every fiber of her being. The reminder of the last time they did something of this sort, plus Violet’s remark about her infodumping, rubbed her slightly the wrong way. “Yes. About that. I’ve still been thinking about the other week, and-”

“While we’re on the subject of that, I’m still surprised at how well you did for your first time domming. I’ve been thinking, and-”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“No.”

“If I was that bad, you can just tell me. Honesty and all…”

“Far from it. You were great!” Violet complimented earnestly, or as earnestly as she would allow herself to get. Apologizing, nor vulnerability for that manner, was never really her strongest suit; it was still too early in the relationship for that sort of thing. “I want to thank you for that… I’m sorry if that whole experience made you uncomfy and… I want to make it up to you.”

“Really?” The silver-haired girl blinked at her girlfriend, staring as if she had grown an extra head. Was she being serious? After all of the things she had said and done, Violet was still proud of her. “But… I hurt you!”

“But you didn’t harm me, and that’s what mattered. Also wasn’t topping that one time your idea? All because of those goddamn cat ears.” She chuckled, thinking about the situation in hindsight.

“And I kept spritzing you with that bottle,” She ignored the compliment and got slightly more defensive.“that must’ve been annoying.”

“Isn’t that the point? What matters is I liked it, you hear me? You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. Now shut up and let me return the favor, okay?”

Max nodded her head, suddenly growing timid at her girlfriend’s demeanor. “What is it you want to do?”

Violet’s face grew a mischievous smirk; she’d been planning her strategy the moment she saw Max reading on the loveseat. She leaned into her girlfriend’s ear and whispered, “How about we recreate one of those scenes from this book? Would you like me to ruin you, Miss Maxine. I bet you’ve wanted to be in Laura’s position from the moment you picked up that.”

“Yes…” Max blushed even more scarlet. She stopped herself as the logical and modest parts of her brain took over. “No, wait… shouldn’t we go over safe words and limits first?”

“We’ll get to that! I just wanna confirm if that sounds like a good idea. Granted it’s one of mine, so it’s good by default.”

“Violet!” Her lover chastised.

“Okay, I deserved that. Do you want me to do those things to you? We don’t have to do it exactly by the book.” Max nodded her head. “Perfect, let’s get playing! But first, have you eaten anything today?”

There was silence.

Violet sighed as she cupped her girlfriend’s face. “Max. My darling. Love of my life and-”

“I’ll be fine…” Max interrupted, slightly whining as she slowly got out of the loveseat. “Please don’t worry about me. Besides, I’m not hungry.” She lied through her teeth.

It was still quite early in the afternoon and she had been too engrossed in the literature to think about bare necessities. At least she remembered to shower; that’s always a good start.

“For all the times you fuss at me about not eating, you should take better care of yourself. I don’t want you passing out.” Violet pulled Max close, then sat her down at the kitchen table. “I’ll fix something real quick and then we’ll get to it. I promise.”

The two further negotiated as they had their meal. They set limits and safe words, and it seemed as if nothing had changed since last time. Max was a little unsure about hickeys since she had a presentation the next day, but Violet calmed her down. When in doubt, there were always clean turtlenecks on standby.

“Now, last thing. Do you want me to be kind or cruel?”

Max took a bite of her salad and contemplated, as if her partner had asked a trick question. One could easily be disguised as the other given certain circumstances. “Kind,” she swallowed, unsure of her answer. “But also cruel. Possibly both? I’m sorry; I still don’t understand.”

“Let me rephrase that. How far do you want me to go? I mean, there’s a big difference between calling you a cumslut and calling you stupid.” The black-haired woman clarified, drumming her fingers on the table as she waited for an answer.

It wasn’t hard to tease Max; there were many things about her that were practically a bullseye for bullying. She was the kind of girl who would take too long to get ready, yet look like she barely had any makeup on. The kind who’d talk during a movie she’d seen ten times before just to spout trivia, quietly going on until shushed. She was practically a grandmother when it came to social media and she was just so… rigid out in public. It was too easy to make fun of the things bullies had told Max for years (her hair, her height, and the way she spoke to name a few), plus it was wrong.

Yes, Violet was a bitch, but she still had standards.

“As far as you want.” Max continued, starting to protest yet not sure of what. “I swear… I can take it.” A hush fell over the kitchen. “I’ll safeword when I feel uncomfortable. I promise.”

Violet swallowed a mouthful of spinach and sighed, “I know you will. I trust you, but will you remember when the time comes?” A hush fell over the kitchen. “It’s just- in the past it was hard for you to come out of your subspace and I don’t wanna make you cry. Well, at least in a bad way. We should have discussed this earlier, but I got distracted by other things and-”

“Now look who’s being fussy.” The grey-haired lady teased as she finished up the rest of her meal. With a small grunt of protest from her partner, she continued. “Well… calling me stupid or worthless is a hard no, and other things in that vein. Nothing negative about my body. And… I think that’s it.”

“Perfect.” Violet shot up and took her and Max’s bowls. “I’ve got to get ready, but remember. As soon as I see you next, your ass is mine. Give me about thirty-ish minutes and I’ll be ready for you. I have some research to do.” She strode towards the door, flipping through the pulp novel’s pages for emphasis.

“Sounds good to me, darling.”

“Then it’s a date!” As she pulled herself into the bedroom, the newly appointed mistress quickly stuck out her head and winked before closing the door.

Max could only imagine the preparations at hand.

#rpdr fanfiction #violet chachki #max malanaphy #violax #lesbian au #s7 #fluff #ruinenlust #puppy #tw kink #kink negotiation

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fan4196 · 4 years

Text

Mother-in-law (Part 5)

Hey everyone I decided to write another Part for this multi-chapter. This is the last one, hope you like it. Enjoy!

A big thank you to @angry-slytherin again for beta reading :)

Today it's a little crazy in the Karev household. Alex is running around like a headless chicken, cleaning and preparing. Jo is trying to keep the twins entertained while she helps Alex cleaning. They really underestimated how big their new house is and that they need more than a day to clean it completely. They thought it would be done in a day like they used to be with the loft, but nope. They aren't even half done and they have to be at the airport in an hour.

"Ok, Alex screw it. Let's leave it dirty. Pick up the toys and laundry and leave the rest. They will understand." Jo's screaming from the guest bathroom into the hall where Alex is cleaning.

"But it has to be perfect." Alex's shouting back, not noticing that Jo's already walking towards him.

"Why are you so nervous? It's not their first time with us." Jo's softly speaking, hugging her husband from behind, stopping him in his motion.

"I know. But it's their first time in the new house. With their own rooms. And I want them to like it. I want everything to be perfect." He's nervous and tense. Turning around in his Jo's arms, she pulls him into a kiss.

"They will like it. Dirty or not. The loft wasn't that clean all the time either. They know how it is with us. Speaking of them. We really need to go if we want to be at the airport in time. You know your kids need hours until they sit in the car." With a last kiss Jo turns around and puts the cleaning stuff away. Alex puts his shoes on and graby the shoes of his kids.

After dressing the twins, picking out toys for the car ride, packing snacks and buckling them up in their car seats they are finally on the way to the airport.

"Daddy I'm so excited. I missed them." Emery is shouting excited from the backseat.

"You did? I'm sure they missed you too, Emy." Alex answers his daughter, watching her through the mirror.

"Are they staying forever now, daddy?" Shs askes.

"No. Just until the next holidays. Then they visit their mom again."

"Why don't they live with us all the time daddy? We have a big house now. And they have their own rooms."

"That's right, Emy. But remember what mommy told you about coparenting?" Alex's still watching his daughter through the mirror. Her hand is on her chin, making her fake thinking face.

"It's when the mommy and the daddy are not together and the kids live sometimes with the mommy and sometimes with the daddy, right?" She watches Alex nod and smiles proudly.

"That's right. Good job. And that's why Eli and Alexis aren't living with us all the time. They live with us and go to school here and in their holidays they are with their mom in Kansas." He tries to explain it as simple as he can. Even though he knows that his four year olds are crazy smart, he makes it easy for her to understand.

"I wish their mommy would live here too, then they could be here all the time and play with P and me." She's saying quietly, while looking out of the window, diving into a daydream.

Jo places her hand on Alex's neck ruffling sofly through his hair, smiling at him. With a quick glimpse to the right he smiles back. God he's so thankful that after everything he did he got her back. He was almost certain that he fucked it up this time. After meeting each other again on Christmas at his mom's a few years ago, everything changed for him. He said it in his letter, because it's true, seeing her again made it impossible to walk away from her again. He and his twins moved to Seattle. He took the job offer he got from Bailey and he became a dad for their twins too. They coparented in the beginning and Jo and him started as friends again. They hung out and drank beer, when the kids were asleep. They shared donuts in dark supply closets and had long conversations on park benches, while their kids were playing on the playground. Jo slowly stared trusting Alex again and the love, that was never really gone, came back. They started dating, with Alex taking her to the most romantic restaurants because that was something they left completely out the last time. But they wanted to do it right this time and they wanted to make it work, for their kids. So they started completely new and bought a big new house, with rooms for everyone, a month ago.

The airport was overfilled today, with all those people coming from their summer vacations. So they hold onto the peanuts hands a little tighter to not lose them in the crowd of people also waiting for their loved ones. Alex checks his phone for the sixth time now, afraid that his other twins got lost somewhere on their way from the plane to the exit.

"There they are. Don't fuss, daddy they made it home safely." Jo jokes, kissing his cheek softly, then turning towards the exit, waving at the twins. Their little twins jump in excitement for their big siblings return home from Kansas, greeting them with big hugs. Jo hugs them next.

Alex loves that his kids get along so well and that his twins accepted Jo that quickly. He huggs his twins too, than they make their way to McDonald's to eat some lunch. On their drive home the car is filled with chatter and laughter, which not only fills Alex heart with joy, but also Jo's, who's smiling in the passenger seat.

At home they showed the big twins their new rooms and let them unpack.

Alexis closes her now empty suitcase as Jo walks by her open room door.

"Hey Jo. Can I talk to you for a second, maybe?" She's asking her kind of stepmom shyly.

"Sure." Jo puts the laundry basket down and walks into Alexis room, sitting down next to her on the bed.

"What's up? Something wrong?" Jo's asking.

"No- well not here. I love my new room. Thank you." The ten year old thanks Jo again with a smile.

"Oh of course, sweety. I'm happy you like it. Your dad wanted to paint it pink first." A laugh escapes Jo's mouth.

"No I love the green you picked. It's ectually my favorite color. But there's something else. I have this friend Taylor. We're best friends since kindergarten, we are very close and tell each other everything. It's just- it feels good to do things together. But I think that I maybe- I think I like him a little more than as a friend." Alexis stars to explain her problem when Jo interrupts her.

"Oh Taylor's a boy. Ok. Sorry. Keep going."

"I think I like him but I don't want to tell him. I'm afraid it will ruin our friendship." She's looking down to her hands sadly.

"Ok. I see. Should I tell you a story?"

Alexis nods without saying a word.

"I had this friend." Jo starts. "We hated each other at first. He was a douchebag. He was mean, called me names, gave me scut to do all the time. One day I lashed out and screamed at him. From that point on we became friends. We went to a wedding together, we got drunk and broke into a hotel room- Ok forget about that- anyway we got closer. We hung out and I started to fall in love with him. But I didn't want to tell him because I was also afraid it would ruin our friendship. So I started dating another guy. He wasn't the nicest so we broke up. My friend was there for me, he took care of me and one night in a dark supply closet of the hospital he told me that he loved me too. And it was the best feeling in the world. We kissed for the first time and it was magic-"

"What happened to your friend? Did you break up and loose him?" Alexis interrupts Jo with her question.

"No. He's still my best friend." Jo tells her with a smile.

"Really? Is it uncle Link?" The girl is a little confused.

"No. It's your dad." Alexis is speechless.

"Wow."

"Sometimes you have to risk something, to get something great. I was really afraid to tell your dad about my feelings but to be honest we already knew what we felt for each other. So if it feels right for you to be with Taylor then tell him how you feel. Maybe he feels the same. Sometimes boys are just as shy as girls when it comes to their feelings. So make the first move maybe it's good in the end."

"Thank you Jo." Alexis pulls her into a tight hug.

"Any time, Alexis. If there's anything you want to talk about you can always come to me. I can listen and I can give advices if you need them." Jo's pulling out of the hug, brushing a lose strand of hair behind Alexis ear.

"Ok. One more thing. Could this maybe stay our little secret for now?"

She's asking sweetly, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, which she obviously doesn't have from her father.

"Sure." How could Jo say no to those.

"I want to talk to Taylor first, than I will tell dad. Ok?"

"Or we tell your dad now and after you told him your secret I will tell him mine." Jo says cheekyly.

"What's your secret?" Alexis askes immediately excited.

"I'm pregnant." Jo whispers happily, waiting for Alexis reaction.

"Oh my God. That's so awesome, Jo." She screams excited, hugging Jo tightly. "Let's go tell dad. He can't be angry at me when he hears he's gonna be a dad again."

"That was my plan." Jo smiles.

Alexis grabbing her hand, pulling Jo out of her room.

#Jolex #jolex #jolex fanfic #jolex babies #jolex forever #jo x alex #jo karev #jo wilson #alex karev #Grey's #greys #Grey's anatomy #grey's fic #fan.4196

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we-always-hit-our-ass · 4 years

Text

Flyboy (Floyd Talbert x Female! Reader)

this is my first fanfic, like EVER. and i really wanted to write for Band of Brothers for a really long time now. sooo here’s my best shot at it. an i know this trope has been done a lot buuuut i can’t help myself. i hope i did well on my first ever fanfic

Description- It’s been a while since you had the time to enjoy yourself, and you finally get to spend it with the boys at the Currahee Party. As the night goes on, the boys decide you had a little too much fun after making a bet with Joe Toye. On the journey back to the barracks, you drunkenly slip out a few words to a certain guy you have your eyes on.

Words- about 3.7k (oh wow)

Warnings- intense drinking, and vulgar language(i mean… it’s the Easy boys) rest is just fluff an two idiots fallin for each other ig <3

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Adrenaline rushes through your veins, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling the whole way down to the building where the party was gonna be held. You spent your time making sure you looked good.

Hopefully good enough to catch that boy’s attention… Ever since you met him at Camp Toccoa, all of your thoughts were occupied by who other than Floyd Talbert.

The way he looked in his PT uniform, his God-awful jokes, and that goofy smile of his. Any woman would have to be mad to turn Floyd Talbert down.

You two would joke like no tomorrow, and some of the Easy Company men would say that you two would make a good couple (to both of you guys’ embarrassment, but you two lowkey kind of like it).

You don’t really hang out with him as much as yo, Liebgott, Bill, and Frank do, sadly. But you both made sure to make the moments you two spend together last.

He was like an angel, and he never fails to make your day just a tad bit brighter. No matter how many times Sobel punishes you, if you get to his cute face or hear his sweet voice, guess what? Everything else but him doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

It was understatement that thinking of him led you to getting into trouble by Sobel. How many times did he make you run up that fucking hill just because you were distracted by some annoying, pissy, and undeniably cute bastard?

You gave up on keeping track after the fifth time.

No matter how many times you try to push him out of your head, he somehow keeps crawling back. You just wished that he would see you more than his best friend. And that was the one thing you hated about yourself…

But this night wasn’t about him. Oh no, this is the night where you finally get off Camp Toccoa and escape Sobel’s never ending complaints. You finally got the jump wings you and you’re boys deserved.

After this, you’re gonna fight at Normandy and you're gonna show America the greatest soldier in existence. But it couldn’t hurt to catch his eye at this party tonight. Sooooo...

You dressed to impress.

You made damn sure that everything about was absolutely perfect. Some light makeup to highlight your key features and to make your lips and (E/C) eyes pop. You decided to leave your (H/L) hair down and to slightly curl your (H/C) locks.

The day you wouldn’t be soldiers’ eyes with the way you looked tonight was the day hell would freeze over. The way you looked tonight and you couldn’t help but be flattered when the boys whistled and complimented you on your look.

“Golly (Y/N), who are you tryna impress tonight? And oh Lord, please tell me it’s not Sobel.” Perconte jokes at you, wrapping an arm around your soldiers.

“Relax, relax, you sure as hell know it isn’t Sobel. I’m doing this for myself.” You throw your subtle lie at Perconte while nudging his arm off.

“You see boys, this is where I call bull. No matter how many times we go to bars, not one time, not ever have you ever put in this much effort.”

“Shut up Perco, I never put effort because I know I already look good. Unlike a certain someone I know.”

Your (E/C) eyes drift over to Perconte’s and you decide to lightly ruffle his hair before you jokingly punch his arm. Even though you were smiling, you were, in all honesty, a nervous wreck inside. The cogs and gears in your brain kept turning and, damn, was it giving you a headache.

You were trying really hard to catch his eye tonight, and you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip by your fingers so easily. Fingers nervously patted down your uniform for any creases. Your arms reached to adjust the hell out of your hat.

You twirled your strands of (H/C) hair on your fingers out of nervousness. Lastly, you decide to fix the tan skirt that hugged your legs ever so nicely. The pads of your fingers were turning ghostly white from how hard you were gripping the ends of your blazer.

Huffing out in exasperation, you decide to run your hands to smooth down your uniform for what seemed like ages.Joe, like the older brother that he is to you, walks over like he somehow notices your nervousness.

Steady arms wrap against your shoulders as he pulls you to his side. His eyes glance over at your anxious face before starting to speak.

“Hey c’mon, doll, what’cha nervous for? You look beautiful enough, I mean it. Now stop fussing over your clothes or else you won’t have hands before we even get to Normandy.”

Joe’s words reassure you and you look up and stare ahead at the dirt road in front of you.

“God! When I’m done, my liver’s gonna shut down,” Guarnere states loudly, cigarette between his lips and arms reaching over to pull you and Perco close to him.

“And both of you assholes better make sure the replacement that comes afterwards comes just as close as being as hot as me!”

A breathy laugh escapes your lips at Guarnere’s words, the beam in your eyes never leaving since Easy Company got the news that there would be a party just for them. With good food, no Sobel getting annoyed for no valid reason, and beer.

Lots, and lots, and lots of beer.

And that was what caught all of Easy Company’s attention.

“Not on my watch Billy-boy. Wouldn’t want a freshman who could only aim his piss instead of his shot to replace Ol’ Gonorrhea! Don’t you think so (Y/N)?”

Perconte’s eyes turn to you, lips pulling upward into a smirk.

“Well in that case, I wouldn’t mind if some newbie replaces Old Faithful over there.”

You joke, making sure to raise your eyebrows and to look at Bill to look at his reaction.

“C’mon (Y/N), I bet you only want that because you don’t want competition!”

He shows off his famous eat-shitting grin while he nudges your arm slightly.

“I swear on my life that I could be dancing, spinning, and reciting three passages from the Bible, and I could still shoot a Kraut from 1000 feet better than you.”

“You talk a lot of shit for a sober man, Guarno.”

Finally making it to the building. Bill opens the door and you, Perconte, and Liebgott walk inside.Your eyes were met by all of the Easy Company getting absolutely wasted.

You even quickly lost count of how many men were downing glass after glass and how many men were already halfway to heaven. Shouts and cheers filled the air and your once anxious mood dissipated at an instant.

You turn your head to look at your buddies before Bill cracked a smile.

“Try not to die before me, alright you pricks?”

Rolling his eyes, Joe flicks Bill’s forehead and you chuckled for a few good seconds.

“No promises Bill.”

Bill smacks your’s and Joe’s heads before walking over to sit at an empty seat with Bull.

Frank leaves the doorway to saunter over to Johnny. Joe flashes a quick grin and gives you a pat on the back before quickly joining Bill and sitting at another empty seat at the table.

A smile tugged at your lips as you spotted two of your best friends at the bar. Walking briskly to the surprisingly not the occupied bar, you throw a smile at Toye and a wink at George, who gladly returns it.

“Now tell me (Y/N), how much money are ya willin’ to bet that I could drink more rounds of beers than you?”

You scoff loudly as you smack Toye’s shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I could drink three times as much as you can Toye. So unless you’re planning to lose good money, then I suggest you drop this.”

“5 bucks, (L/N), take it or leave it.”

“I’m not stupid enough to pass up a bet that I know I’m winning. Count me in Toye, but you’re gonna regret this.”

The glare he gave you made you burst out laughing and after recovering you gave your attention to George. You lean over the counter to put your hand on George’s shoulder while beaming him a cheeky smile.

“Alright Georgie, you heard us. You’ll be the judge, okay? Now hurry up and pour us our drinks, I'm looking forward to a real nice hangover in the morning.”

“Aye aye, private.”

Plopping back down to your seat, your eyes wandered across the room and, boom, there he was in all of his glory. Floyd Talbert, stealer and breaker of hearts.

Your stare lingers for what seems like days and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. My God, you could never get enough of him, no matter what you may push yourself to think.

He was already a bit tipsy, you observed. Slowed down movements, slurred speech, and rosy cheeks. All of a sudden those beautiful chestnut eyes of his met your (e/c) ones.

You could’ve sworn that his face was getting redder after you two made eye contact.

You were sure that yours was.

The world kind of started to slow down, and it felt that you and Floyd were the only people in that room. His goofy smile made you return one of your own while the world continued to dance around you.

You were hypnotized by Floyd, there was no other explanation.

Little did you know that he was feeling the same.

Not wanting your little encounter to be awkward, you decided to give him a demure smile while raising your hand to wave at him. You giggled like a schoolgirl when you saw him waving back at you, glass of beer still in his hand.

Almost forgetting about your bet with Toye, you suddenly yelped when Joe came to tap on your shoulder.

“Yoo-hoo, earth to (L/N)? Don’t tell me that you’re drunk already, though i’m not complaining. I’ll be all too happy to get 5 bucks from you.”

Joe smirked as he watched you recollect yourself from your flustered state, failing to come up with sentences and only managing to stammer words that didn’t make sense. Joe laughs before rubbing your shoulders to help you calm down a little. The clinking of glasses on the wooden surface causes you to look up at George.

“Two beers for the lovely couple, now just call me up if ya need more. Or throw your glass at me, either one works.”

After throwing a light glare at George you face Joe, who smirks at you, thinking that you’ll be done after two glasses.

Well he’s wrong, cause you know you can handle more than two glasses.

“Good luck.”

“I don’t need it Joey. No need for luck when I know I’m going to win.”

George then counted down from…

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three…”

“Go!”

And as soon as George shouted those words from his lips, you and Toye rushed to get your drinks and down them as fast as you can. George couldn’t even see your arms move for your glasses.

You quickly brought the cool glass to your mouth and downed the liquid like your life depended on it. It burned as it went down your throat, but you could care less. You just needed fun and those five bucks tonight.

When you finished you slammed the glass hard on the table, so hard that you feared you could’ve left a dent on the wooden counter. You slammed back your empty glass about the same time Joe did.

You both desperately called out for George and George hurried over to take your cups and refill them.

“Didn’t think you’d make it this far, Joey.” You directed at him a teasing grin and were met by a playful roll of his eyes.

George came as fast as he could and slammed the two glasses in a similar manner as he did before. Like before, you and Joe rushed for your glasses and heaved them up faster than light.

Soon a crowd started to form around the two of you. The bar suddenly became louder than before and your adrenaline burst through the roof. However, now that Floyd was in the crowd, you couldn’t help but burn up again. (E/C) eyes flickered over the crowd, searching for him.

When your eyes finally landed on him, you couldn’t be more surprised when he was already staring at you. The slamming of the glasses caught your attention and you proceeded to gulp the amber liquid.

Round after round of beers, you started to feel lightheaded. The lights seemed to blind you and the pounding your head was only made worse by the cheers and shouts of the crowd around you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t drunk. Images were blurry and sounds weren’t as clear as they were supposed to be.You could barely make out any sentences or words that anyone was saying.

Mumbled words and incoherent sentences passed by your lips, and you could barely look straight ahead without seeing double. You swear you were on your 30th glass of beer… You looked over at Joe and he didn’t seem to be better than you were.

“Alright kiddos, last round. You two don’t look so good.” George muttered, or at least that’s what you think he did.

The redundant sound of the glass slamming on to the wood barely registered in your mind before your whole head became too heavy for your neck to support. The last thing you felt was your forehead making hard contact with the wooden surface of the bar counter.

The last thing you heard was the crowd yelling and your friends shouting for someone to help you.

The last thing you saw were those beautiful chestnut eyes and softly tousled dark brown hair.

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

You groaned as you felt your body being shaken and as your eyes slowly opened, you could start to make out gentle words being said in your direction. Slowly but surely, you start to gain back your consciousness.

The quiet was the first thing that hit you. The loud yelling and shouting and the clinking of glasses of beer seem to have disappeared. Suddenly you come to your senses that you’re not in the bar anymore.

You swiftly turned your head around to see exactly where you were, but that only seemed to give you a headache. Groaning out, you raised your to feel something for support.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), I got you now.”

A sudden burst of energy went through you when you heard the voice.

You, slowly now, turned your head to see who was talking to you. Your vision was still blurry, and the pounding in your head still hasn’t stopped.

“Joey- That you- no, no, no… Are you Percy? Perseus…? Oh! Perco… No. It doesn’t sound like you. Ahhh. You’re Guadamalarkey, I don’t know. That doesn’t seem right…”

You called out a few names, but none of the names seemed to fit with the voice you just heard. You continued to slur and ramble incoherently, but you were stopped when the voice started again.

“You’re that drunk? Thought you could recognize me by now.”

Huh? Who’s he-

Oh.

OH.

“Flyboy? Is that you...?”

“Jesus (Y/N), Flyboy? C’mon, we should get you to bed.”

“Yeeah.. Flyboy… Flyboy Tablets. Right?”

You muttered quietly, still unknowingly clinging on to his crisp blazer. Floyd laughed, and there it is again. The blushing and the stammering. Floyd didn’t really seem to notice though, as he was enraptured by your parted lips, glazed eyes, and the soft yet husky ramblings of your drunk self.

“Close enough, (Y/N). We really need to go get you to bed, okay?”

Soft, gentle circles were rubbed on your back, and it worked slightly enough to calm you down and to stop the dizziness and lightheadedness. Floyd picked you up gingerly from the dirt road you were sitting on for the past few couple of minutes.

He helped you get up, and you clumsily wiped off any dirt that was clinging on to your uniform. Floyd had carefully put your arm over his shoulder and gingerly wrapped his other arm around your waist.

A slight pink tinge appeared on his cheeks as he looked over at you.

What he would do to kiss those lips of yours. He mentally scolded himself for thinking about you in that way while you were under the very, very heavy influence of alcohol at the moment.

Floyd was taking his time when helping you walk. He kicked tiny rocks and pebbles out of the way to make sure you wouldn’t trip, and every time you would stumble he would put his arm in front of you, while his hand was tightly gripping on your blazer.

After a few minutes of walking, you turned to him with your glazed (E/C) eyes and ever so slightly leaned in closer to him. You two stopped near the barracks, just outside of it really.

The sky was dark and stars were shining, it once again felt like they were the only people in the entire world.

“You know, Flyboy… I- I liked you ever since I saw you… Like.. l-like like, I suppose?”

Did he- Did he hear right? Floyd knew he wasn’t as drunk as you, but he had to have been drunk enough to have had heard whatever you were saying. There is no possible way that he had just heard you say those words correctly.

His eyes widened and no amount of drinking could have made his cheeks burn red brighter than right now. Floyd’s breathing slowly picked as he looked over at your disheveled, yet oddly cute and beautiful appearance.

You were so, so, so close…

Just one more inch and his lips would be touching yours.. But he controlled himself, and urged himself to listen to your slurred speech.

“An- and- every time, every single goddamn time, I h-hung out with you... The feelings just got wor-worse… I really didn’t want to like yoooou.”

Oh yeah, he was definitely drunk.

“But I couldn’t stop… You know? I really like yo-you, Flyboy… I think I love you too.. Really love you… You just make me so happy and you could make me sm-sm…. Smile.”

You continued while smiling like an idiot, and Floyd was burning up by the second.

“No matter how many times that prick Sable curses at me, just o-one good look at you. My troubles are awaaaay..”

“You’re really drunk, (Y/N), you’re probab-”

“But I do! I really do, Flyboy…”

You suddenly whined out, interrupting him. You knew what he was going to say, and you had to prove to him that you really did love him from the start.

You were burning up so fast already. Whether from the alcohol or from your close proximity to Floyd, you really didn’t know. Floyd really didn’t know how to respond, but he thought that since you were drunk, whatever he’s going to say to you… You’ll forget it in the morning.

“(Y/N), I-I know you’re just drunk. And that you’ll forget this shitfest in the morning. But I actually lik-love you too. You’re so smart,”

He says while caressing your (S/C) skin, leaving goosebumps where he touched.

“So beautiful and funny,” His fingers brushed over your parted lips and your breath hitched for the 100th time in this minute.

“And so fucking brave and kind.” Floyd quietly murmured, only intending for only him and you to hear.

He looks up to your dazzling (E/C) eyes with his equally stunning chestnut ones. You stare at each other, and you could see nothing but warmth and pure, genuine love inside of his irises.

He takes his time to examine your face again. You rest in comfortable silence, the only sounds you could hear were both Floyd’s and your heavy breathing.

“I don’t care if you’re gonna forget my words tomorrow… I just need to get it off my fucking chest… I love you. I love you so much (Y/N), and I literally don’t know what I’m going to do without you.. When I saw you looking like that, my heart burst…”

Now you knew you were really drunk, and you stood there in shock, stupefied reaction pasted over your face.

“Every time you’re talking with any of those guys. I just… I get so jealous, but I'm too much of a coward to let you know how I feel.”

How many times have you blushed or had your breath taken away because of this guy? But he still continues, glancing up and down between your hands woven between his and your alluring (E/C) eyes.

“You’re perfect to me, and fuck what anybody else says, ok? And I know you’ll just forget this in the morning bu-”

Without any thought crossing through your mind, you yanked on his tie and pulled him towards your face.

Finally, finally!

After months and months that turned into years of pining… You were finally kissing Floyd fucking Talbert.

His wide eyes slowly closed as both of you melted in each other’s touch. His arm snaked around your waist so your chest was flush against his. He reached up, fingers following your jawline and slowly making its way to run its way through your disheveled (H/C) hair.

The kiss was so tender, and you could’ve died right there on the spot. The lips you imagined kissing you all over were right there. You couldn’t help but want more.

You wrapped your arm around neck, and tilted your head slightly to deepen the kiss. (S/C) colored hands running through his short, soft hair, slightly pulling on the roots.

Truly, nothing else mattered, and you two were finally one.

As you two broke the kiss, your eyes slowly wandered up to meet his. You were entranced to see that he loved that kiss just as much as you did.

You two gasped for air and your chests were heaving up and down.

Love was all you really felt right now.

Drunk or not, you both really didn’t care.

“I know I’m not going to forget this in the morning… Now will you shut up and kiss me again, Flyboy?”

And he did.

Over, and over, and over again.

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

“SEE I TOLD YOU SHE WAS TRYNA IMPRESS SOMEONE!”

“Shut up, Percy!”

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

whoooo what a doozy, gonna write speirs next ;)))))

btw sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes or making any characters too OOC

5 bucks back then is like about 74-76 dollars today

#band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #floyd talbert #floyd talbert x reader #band of brothers fanfiction

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aetherarf · 3 years

Note

Yay, requests are back! :D

Can I please requests Aobai, Michi, and Tamsin(your ocs) with a cinnamon roll s/o getting kidnapped?

Full prompt: the S/O is one of the few, if the only, people in Teyvat who love the character. They are supposed to meet up with them for a picnic but are kidnapped by some bandits trying to make ransom/get revenge/just be horrible people and send a letter to the character.

Preferably with some comfort where the S/O gets rescued, but if you really wanna make it angst that's your choice.

Little surprised, ngl, that anyone cares but I might as well put them here.

Here is Aobai's about page, here is Michi's, and here is Tamsin's.

wow it took me awhile but i got the about pages done too!! sorry for. the delay lol. twas a lot of work.

[ didnt have as much comfort as wanted but WHATEVER i wanna go to bed ]

[[ WARNING: VIOLENCE ]]

[[ Summary: Just avoiding problems doesn't always seem to warrant people causing problems with you... Oh, but that doesn't mean that they won't raise hell in their own way to keep you safe.

Total Word Count: 2'450

Aobai Word Count: 670

Michi Word Count: 819

Tamsin Word Count: 961 ]]

Aobai

They didn't even have time to leave when Aobai appeared.

He looked over the group of people, unamused as there was chatter,

"Excuse me," he said, voice oddly soft, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Well-"

Then there was silence as the group of people all looked at the massive man-beast, who was glaring down at them with no small amount of rage in his eyes, even if he just had his arms folded over his chest, ears folded back.

"Look," He said, "You have two options here. You leave," he glanced over at you, who was staring at him with wide eyes full of tears, tightly bound... likely injured.

"And you leave them with me... Or I kill you. Simple."

One man walked towards Aobai, "You're all talk, big--"

"Love," he spoke over the man, "Just keep your eyes closed until it's all over, okay?" He asked, and you closed your eyes tight, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

"You can't just ignore-"

Aobai unfolded his arms, and swung his fist effortlessly, teeth clattering in the man's head, jaw broken in an instant, and he collapsed to the ground...

Dead, with a single hit.

Humans were far more delicate than they'd like to admit. A single blow could cripple them eternally, or kill them.

Several of those who attempted on kidnapping you had already ran off--a wise decision, to flee than to fight a man the size of a bear, but one had held you close, hand tightly holding your hair as a blade was stuck to your neck--

"Don't," The man said, eyes wide and wild, "Don't move, or I'll kill them."

He just stopped moving, "Fine. Am I moving?" He asked, "No. What do you want, you pathetic little cretin?"

That insult lead to the man tightening his grip on your hair, trembling, letting the blade lightly scrape your skin--too dull to inflict actual damage thus far, but...

You gasped for air, terrified.

"Buddy," Aobai said, softly, "You know, you don't have to do this... Let me guess, you've been forced into this spot from something you can't control... Money, debt, family, wanting to keep yourself safe..."

The man slightly loosened his grip on your hair,

"... What? What about it?" He tightened again.

"I can make all that go away--Just set the knife--"

In an instant, his catalyst hovered above his hand, and he held it like an object, throwing it forward, the disgusting noise of crunching bone right next to your ear as you were dropped to the ground, the hot--then suddenly oh so cold sensation of blood hitting the side of your face.

He walked over, and you heard him kick something--likely the man who was just threatening to kill you, and with one deft movement, he picked you up like you weighed nothing--to him, honestly, you probably didn't.

A claw protruding from his fingertip swiftly cut all ropes binding you, all without having to set you down, and finally, he removed your gag, "You can look now." He said, softly, and hesitantly, you looked up at him...

Splattering of blood on his face, and his pupils were... small. Probably still running on the adrenaline rush.

"Did they..." he hesitated, "Did they do anything to you?" He asked, softly, and you shook your head.

"No, just... roughed me up." You laughed weakly, just to cough, "I... I'm tired. I just want to go home."

Aobai pressed a kiss to your cheek, "Of course, we're going right home... Let me take care of you, little cub, alright?"

You nodded, sniffling and wiping the tears from your eyes, and he just shifted you gently in his arms, holding you a little closer to himself... No matter what happened before, you were safe now, in his arms was probably the safest place in Teyvat.

"... Hey, love, what do you think about getting a bodyguard? I can't be with you all the time, but I can keep you safe through another, if you wish... what's that look for?"

Michi

"A picnic," Michi said, barely looking at you, "If you bring the food, then maybe."

You agreed, and they just chuckled... Even still, they found themselves putting no small amount of effort into cooking your favourite dish, packaging it up and tying a cute little bow on top...

They already knew what was going to happen, a surprised gasp and a thanks, and Michi would lie right to your pretty face and say they just got this and had someone ask to deliver it to you, and pretend they didn't spend the past two hours making it perfect.

Michi found themselves to the pre-determined meeting spot, looking down at the food spread out over a blanket, they setting it down amongst the rest as they looked around curiously...

You weren't in sight.

Suddenly, they noticed a paper distinctly placed right in an empty spot, where you, or maybe they, were meant to sit. Did you bail? Not that they'd be mad, but they'd be very disappointed.

Michi.

We have them.

Come alone, and we can promise their safety. We just want information.

And then a long spiel of information about the location--about how to go through the process of ascertaining your safety.

They sighed, as though this wasn't a ransom note for the information they had locked away in their mind, more valuable than any amount of mora they could demand.

"I thought I told you," they said, to nothing in particular, "Never to talk to anyone who knows my name."

And then they started walking, hands in their pockets, without a care in the world...

...

When they found themselves to the building, it was in the middle of the city... odd. Maybe they thought that it was better, since this was a run-down area where even the local law enforcement didn't want to tamper with, leaving it mostly forgotten.

But they knew this warehouse--Enough that they avoided the 'guard', in stolen, falsified attire that was standing by the entrance, and instead walked around the wall...

And found where it slightly indented inwards.

With a brief kick, the false wall came down like it was made of little shards of glass, hitting the ground in a pile that flattened under their boot like a pile of half rotten leaves.

Walking between the walls, in the, admittedly quite uncomfortable, crawlspace, they kept their eyes closed, listening intently...

And eventually, they heard it.

"So," it was a man's voice, one they've heard before, but didn't care enough to put a name to the voice, "Where's Michi?"

"I don't know," you said, honestly, "They... they don't tell me."

Tsk tsk tsk, they thought, You know better. Just say 'I don't know'...

"Well, you best hope that they come soon," there was the sound of a blade unsheathing, scraping against its metal scabbard, "Or else."

You whimpered, they could almost imagine your nodding, just trying to pacify them...

Nimble hands found the long-since-sealed hidden doors, doing their best to silently undo whatever paste had been forced into the cracks to shut it wholly, until it was open enough for them to slide through the crack, standing in complete shadow as there were a few people talking, and you were sitting in a chair, staring down at the ground, motionless as they ignored you.

Michi stalked over, and gently covered your mouth with their hand, whispering softly into your ear--

"Let's get out of here before they notice."

You turn to look at them, seeing their piecing gaze staring right at you...

You nodded, and they grabbed your hand, leading you through the cramped, uncomfortable, and... possibly filthy crawlspace, until you found your way outside, hearing distant shouting from inside as Michi, as gracefully as possible, helped you stand on solid ground where there wouldn't be something to trip over--alive or otherwise.

"Don't worry," Michi said, sweetly, "Just keep walking. They're idiots."

You nodded, as Michi guided you along, until you got out of the darker part of town, to the place Michi had been renting--specifically to have a place for you to visit them, Michi fussing about for a few minutes, the sound of rushing water,

"Hey," Michi looked up at you, "You're dirty. I started a bath for you."

And that meant, I know you're upset, I've run a bath for you so you can feel a little better.

You nodded and smiled, "... Thank you, Michi." You said, softly, and Michi looked at you, baring their emotion freely for a moment...

".. I don't deserve any thanks, shoo, before I decide to leave and not come back."

Once again, they didn't meant that. They would be right there, waiting for you with a freshly made bed with still-warm blankets, and a meal made for you to eat when bundled up all cozy and safe, then only leaving once they were certain you were dead asleep...

They never wanted to abandon you, after all.

Tamsin

Hours of preparation, making sure every little thing would taste good--even if it was a little hard to figure out if they themselves could enjoy it, on half of their tongue it tastes foul, on the other half, pleasant.

... Just another oddity. They hoped it would be good, and maybe it was a bit too much food, heavy and hard to carry, but if there was variety, surely there'd be... something you liked! They hoped...

They protected the basket, holding it close to their chest, just trying to keep their head down as they found their way past town ( it was easier just to skip the questions, after all ) and left back to nature--where they found peace, and enjoyment, with everything... and themselves.

How perfect it would be--Just a quiet day, where they loved, with the person they adored...

...

Until finally, they got there.

You weren't there. You had promised, promised, that you'd be there early, to set up a few things, just to make it a little cozier, even if clean grass was the most cozy thing in their opinion.

Setting down the basket, they opted to look around the grand old tree--maybe you climbed it? They liked climbing...

... Did they?

No, no, they did. Most of the time, at least.

But you weren't in the tree, or anywhere near, and instead, they found a note.

Get the experiment from the Sumeru Academia. There's a hefty reward for whoever can bring it to the boss, and to the buyer.

They stared at in horror, looking around desperately, half hoping this was some cruel joke, but... It wasn't. They knew it wasn't.

Reaching down to the grass, a little seed of elemental energy appeared in their palm, and from it a vine grew, reaching to the grass...

That way.

They closed their fist, and the vine disappeared into little shards of dendro energy, as they continued to where the surrounding life told them to go.

Humans could be cruel, but plants never lied.

...

Eventually, they found themselves to an old building, overtaken by nature, and with that little vine again, it told them that many people had invaded their new home. With a silent promise, they swore to return it to the plants that had overtaken it, and, ever so gently, found their way in through a window, minding the mushrooms that ate at the surrounding wooden frame. They were just minding their business, they needn't be squashed.

Hiding behind a rotting crate, they stared at you sitting there, bound with ropes--definitely not from this place, they were free of decay--and countless people talking, yelling.

"That's not the one we're looking for! What kind of stupid intel did you get? Now we have a random bitch to deal with."

"Look, I didn't get any information on how they looked! Maybe if you told me literally anything I could've avoided this!"

As they yelled-a sound that was brutal and painful, they stalked over to you, hiding in the poorly lit light, and noticed the gag over your mouth...

How they wanted to hug you and to apologize a thousand times over...

But instead, with a small blade, they cut the ropes around your wrists, abandoning them to the ground--you made a soft noise of alarm, and they didn't listen--just moved faster, as they heard the terrifying sound of approaching footsteps.

Finally, the one around your mouth was cut off, and they stood up, seeing the group-- "Wait--that's the one we're looking for!"

"See! It worked! Not how it was supposed to, but--"

"Shut up and get them!"

Tamsin wrapped an arm around you, holding you close, and reached towards the roof as though they could grab it, but the sound of old wood creaking had broke out, and they clutched a fist, pulling it down quickly--

As though it was connected with invisible thread, the ceiling crashed down on them, only just scarcely missing the both of you, crushing those who had caught you before.

"Tamsin, what-"

Instead of saying anything--of course they wouldn't, they never said anything, they just grabbed your hand and ran out of the building, just far enough to be out of sight, out of the reach of them...

But they never left the building.

... More for the plants to eat, they thought, morosely, before looking back at you, your dazed expression... and moved a hand to cup at your cheek, looking at you in fear, desperately looking over your expression.

"... Thank you," you whispered, softly, both exhausted and exasperated. They pressed a kiss to your lips, then wrapped their arms around you in a tight hug, hiding their face in your torso for several long moments... Until, finally, you pried them off.

They patted around their form for a moment, until they found a small notepad, scribbling down a single word--Home?

"Yes, I'd be happy to go home."

As you walked, both of you stopped at a hill--one with a massive, ancient tree atop it, and Tamsin hesitated... It was well past sunset, so that little picnic wasn't really a good idea at this point, but they quickly rushed up the hill, waving to the tree, and came back down with a basket,

"... Do you think it's still good."

Tamsin just shrugged with a smile.

When you both got home, Tamsin unpacked everything--and, well, it wasn't bad. What was supposed to be hot was lukewarm, what was supposed to be cold was melty, what was meant to be crisp was a little soggy...

But in the end, it was very enjoyable, even if Tamsin seldom ate a single bite, and preferred to just cling to you the entire time, pressing small kisses of apology to your neck, even if it truly wasn't their fault in the slightest.

#genshin oc #genshin impact oc #michi #aobai #tamsin #hurt and comfort #bark ocs #// ???#bark writes #request #anonymous #barks ocs

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years

Text

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (5/5)

A/N: The last chapter to this fic. It's a long one and I gotta say that I've had a lot of fun with this one. After I post this chapter, I'll be sure to post the masterpost for this fic. And of course it'll be available on ao3 soon enough.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

__________

Chapter 5: Adore You

If you had to draw a map to find the way home once you were captivated by the gaze of those trustworthy, soft eyes of his, you would surely run out of ink; pools of blue, unwavering in their affection, drew you in, and you were willing to drown in them. There were facets about them that fascinated you as much as the scales of a butterfly did; they did not shimmer, but they gleamed and sparkled; it's what made you pause and search for a wisp of an acquaintance that very first time you saw him; finding a familiarity that threatened to sweep you away. Why you even found fire in those eyes; it was there in his moments of determination and passion. Oh, how their color shifted with his moods was a type of magic you wanted to spend the rest of your life being mesmerized by. To be sure he wasn't mistaken, he dare not blink; exhibiting the full spectrum of what Billie Eilish described as ocean eyes; he had to be sure. "Y-you do?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I do."

It wouldn't occur to you till later, that he had given you a choice. For instead of the typical proposal question, where it was more asserted, Rick asked in a manner in which there was equal footing; it spoke volumes of the respect he had for you. With shaky hands, he slipped a ring whose stone was as clear and blue as his eyes and cut perfectly like a rose, the band covered in gold vines and silver leaves which weaved together; he made it himself, and if you thought back far enough, you could remember when he was ambiguous about his plans to create a new type of stone. Honestly, you didn't realize it would be for this.

"Gosh," he sniffled. "I-I promised myself that I w-wouldn't cry."

But cry he would; fat, sloppy tears that blinded one's vision. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, and fought to regain composure, but lost to the new wave which followed. You gently pried his hands away from his face, softening at his tear-stained cheeks. "It's okay, you can cry if you want to. I already know how tender you are."

Goodness, how long had he wanted to do this? For while it had almost been two years in which he had last attempted to, it might've been on his mind for much longer than that; eating away at his clarity; at the self-confidence that was torn down and repaired daily. You were grateful and proud that this man wanted you; that he finally gathered the courage to ask and do as he intended and wanted. You….you had wanted this to happen, but did he know that? Your ocean of inquisitions thought otherwise.

However, it was time to quiet and quell his despondent thoughts. Your fingers dug into the collar of his sweater; the tang of nervous sweat and something so him which wafted off him made you yearn to bring him closer. The puffiness about his eyes didn't discourage you from pressing a kiss at the corner of them and from his throat came a choked sob and you were surrounded by the sounds of his disbelief; this cacophony was breaking your heart. There had to be something you could do to ease him. "Ricardo," you started, "considering the suddenness of the occasion, should we, in like fashion…my dear honey man, would you like to get married today?"

This new tidbit caught him off guard; so much so that he stopped crying; good. Now, he was the one who was unsure of whether this was real life or a simulation. He ran his fingers through his hair, double-checked his equipment, sprayed himself with water, and completed equations that had taken this earth dimension's leading mathematicians decades to understand. What you thought was odd was when he caught a pigeon, scanned its anatomy, and found it was sound; you were going to have to ask him about it later. "Rick, did you hear me?"

"Y-yes," he focused, "but what d-do you mean today? How?"

You figured he would have easily come to a conclusion, but then again, what do spacemen have to do with the price of bread?

"I mean that we don't have to wait if you don't want to." You slid your palm over his tattoo, memorizing with your fingertips where his skin was slightly raised. "We can just go down to the justice of the peace if you'd like."

"And y-you would be my wife today?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I think that's how it works."

"But what about a-a…"

"A wedding ceremony?" you interrupted. "Well, we can have one later. We can plan it however you want, and invite all our friends. There can be so much celebration that we'll be knocked out for a week. Until then, I just want to make you happy, and I believe the sooner the better. Okay? So, if we're going to do this, just tell me now and I'll go get the proper paperwork."

It never ceased to amaze you how easily he flitted through emotions as though it were the weather, and with vigor, he lifted you up and vibrated with joy. "Boy, golly gee…this really - this really razzes my b-berries! This is…wow, I-I can't believe it."

You couldn't believe his word choice either. "Oh, you better believe it, because now you're stuck with me and I have you all to myself. However, you're going to have to put me down now because the office closes at five. There are a few things I need to do before then."

Letting you down, he happily waved goodbye despite the fact that it wouldn't take long to get what you needed for this impromptu occasion. Though, when you entered your house, you took a moment to think about your father. There were things you still didn't understand, like why he never told you about his friendship with Rick, or why you two never really discussed what he'd do if you got married; if he had been here, maybe you two would have talked about which flowers would look best as centerpieces; like whether roses or mums were cheerful enough or if this really was a good idea; if such an age gap was surmountable. Yet, in a way you felt as though you were honoring him; for your father and your mother had been unconventional and had gotten married without all the showy displays then road tripped a bit before settling here; you were simply following tradition.

Maybe, you didn't have to know about the why's and what-ifs, but focusing on what you could do seemed a whole lot easier to do. You kicked off your sneakers and dashed upstairs. You knew where your important documents were, but you thought that choosing a cute outfit would take a little longer. You wanted a certain vibe, one that would make things easier on him and then it came to you; why not revisit an old favorite; one that reminded you of his eyes; always, forever blue.

When you returned, you found him pacing around. He was deep in thought, and it took a moment for him to notice that you had returned. Almost comically, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and he started to cry again. "That's th-the dress. From that one time."

"It sure is."

With a twirl, you flaunted the blue chiffon dress, and felt like a dream; his visible adoration was not lost on you. It was a relief that this time you hadn't taken an hour to fuss or worry that you weren't dressed for the part, and you weren't wearing shoes which would kill your feet, but instead rocked some converse. "These shoes are made for walking and that's just what I'll do."

Unlike you, Zeta-7 wanted to fuss and choose something dressier, but you somehow managed to convince him that his blue button-up would be fine, and no tie was necessary; hidden ray guns were allowed just in case this happened to be the day that the Gromflomites attacked; not even Earth-based military scanners would be able to detect them. Though, you did allow him to fix up his hair, because one, you thought he was quite handsome with it combed back, and two, it's what he felt he needed to do to look the part. "How do I-I look?"

"Like the man I'm going to marry. Are you ready handsome?"

With a nod, he grabbed the folder with all the documents he needed. "Y-you bet."

______________

At the courthouse, the entire security staff grouped together and teased you about your keys; you should've known that you'd face trouble once you went through the metal detector; you had a lot of keychains; they were from the days when you and your father would go shopping together. Like Rick, he liked yard sales and thrift stores; sometimes he'd get grab bags and there would be vintage keychains, and he'd give them to you knowing you'd like them. You were told by one of the older guards that it wasn't natural for a grown woman to have a set of keys that weighed five pounds. Zeta-7 began to worry, but you told him you could handle it, and you figured the guards were bored and had nothing else to do. What you didn't tell them was that the main reason your keys were heavy was that you were carrying two sets; yours and your father's old keys; Rick knew, but he respected your wishes to leave it be.

Despite this, you two made your way to the right office; it only took fifteen minutes of going to lobby after lobby, free coffee, and endless rugs in all this indoor nothingness. And nobody knew better than Rick when it came to how much you hated paperwork, but nonetheless, you went through the painstaking process of signing this and that, wondering why they didn't make it easier for people by asking yes or no questions; this better not become someone's confetti. Rick breezed through it all, and you were slightly jealous that he knew what he was doing, but it was due to the fact that citadel paperwork was a lot more frustrating and difficult; he had to go through stacks of it weekly; poor man. While he sat quietly, you were in-between forms that had to be signed in triplicate and heard the gossip coming from the people who were working in the back of the office. What they didn't know was that their ignorance made you more determined; you'd fought your own expectations, that of others, as well as what seemed right to do long enough and no one, not even death itself was going to stop you from doing this; it was the best thing you could ever do for yourself and for him as well. You breathed a sigh of relief when you and Rick finally signed the marriage certificate; finally, it was done, and he watched rapturously as you set down the pen so that he could kiss you without refrain.

If you hadn't known better, you'd say the world shied away; dissolving into a plane of nothingness as he enveloped you with a strength that was deceptive for a man of his years; he had become a little more confident; it might've taken a few years, but all you knew was that it suited him. Being nurtured and cared for, as well as loved in the right sort of environment did wonders on Zeta-7; so much so, that he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and still manage not to damage it. It wasn't shocking that some found this outward display sweet, and you almost had hope for humankind, but then there was a laugh or two from the back; you made a mental note to consider moving off Earth. No one was going to ruin this moment for him, and relishing the moment, you chased his mouth for a second kiss; you know, to prove your point.

And if you hadn't already been proud of him, what made you even prouder was what he said on the way out. "Please stop laughing at m-my wife. Th-that's very rude."

His wife? Yes, you were his wife now. It's strange how you could wake up and wonder what you should have for breakfast and be here where you were now; in a whole new chapter of your life; wondering what will come next. Confusing yes, but not something to be afraid of; you welcomed this happy transition.

Back at the car, you were still recovering from his earlier outburst; the like which was almost out of character. "Did you see the look on her face? I thought it was going to fall off with how far her jaw dropped. Wasn't it a sight?"

Though, he was busy staring at the ring on his own hand which you had picked out when you two made a stop at a consignment shop earlier. It wasn't that complex like yours, but he loved it. "All I could see was - was you."

"You flirt."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and in turn, he laughed a full-on belly laugh; this happy noise was music to your ears. "Gosh, I-I mean it. Y-you, look so pretty today." A bit shyly, he commented. "Blue looks very good on you."

"Thank you. So, how should we celebrate? A trip to the moon perhaps? Going across the universe? Maybe a kaiju fight with Matango? Or watching Spiderman 2? Honestly, I'm game for anything."

You had decent shoes on and didn't care what he wanted to do because you were happy if he was happy. And as though it were just another afternoon, he glowed with happiness when he asked. "Mrs. Sanchez, do you - do you want to go get some ice cream?"

Some things will never change and you didn't mind that. "I'd love to. As the author, L.M. Montgomery once said, 'I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.' And, you know, it's so true. I intend to go all out with the toppings today. It's certainly that kind of occasion."

______

He couldn't seem to want to let go of your hand; as though the world would fall away if he didn't and that this would turn out to be a cruel dream. Still, you humored and spoiled him. As intended, you got all the toppings; Rick thought it was a kids dream come true with the amount of candy you had in your waffle bowl. And since you had enough to share, you took the liberty to feed him. He chatted on; offering charming stories from his band days; unlike other Ricks who were in a rock band called Flesh Curtains, his band had been a jazz and bossa nova trio; the band name had been comprised of a numerical equation; if you had named them you would've called them the Zeta Bytes.

Now, Rick wasn't a messy eater, but during one of his more excitable stories, he spilled a bit on the corner of his mouth. Ready with a napkin, you wiped it away, and couldn't help but laugh at how boyish it was. Giving your hand a squeeze, he absentmindedly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand; adoration coloring his voice. “You're t-t-too good to me.”

"There's no such thing. If anything, I gotta spoil you rotten."

You found no hindrance in his mood and this time he didn't think twice about kissing you then and there as he liked while you were still holding the napkin; fear and shame of public displays of affection being one less thing to worry about now. Who cared if your ice cream was melting, because your heart was melting; his mouth tasted of chocolate and promises. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled away; his promise whispered against your lips. "I-I promise I'll be good t-t-to you."

Being loved suited him; it really, really did wonders on his countenance and it made you wonder what else he could now do.

_________

By now you were a little tired, but Ricks contagious energy invigorated your spirits; you bet he could've come up with an invention and completed it today if he stayed this hyped up. Instead, he used that energy to make fresh rolls to go with the leftover acorn squash soup; you hadn't been that hungry, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. And when dinner had been eaten, you helped him with the dishes; nothing you hadn't done before, but his spirit was lighter and more at ease; he even bumped your hip with his as a gesture of playfulness. After cleaning up the kitchen, he decided that he'd like to take a shower and refresh himself and in the meantime, you stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the beauty of the night. In this part of town, despite the light pollution, you could see a fair amount of stars.

You had never studied astronomy, but Rick had shown you in diagrams and in textbooks of their names and explained how they were formed; to him, their complexity was like poetry, and it made them beautiful. You couldn't recite it by memory, but you had a feeling that beyond your current comprehension perhaps there was life amongst those heavenly bodies, despite the heat or deadly gases; if you had learned anything about space, it was that worlds were more along the lines of art and beauty than fields of science which were easily explained. Yet, in the air, where there was a sweet perfume, thick, but intoxicating, only where you were currently mattered; you saw that in the leftmost part of the yard there was jasmine which was currently in bloom; its blanket of flowers reminding you of snow. Hadn't you read of this somewhere before? Maybe.

In the grass near your feet, grasshoppers leaped away, and crickets chirped their songs. And you relished the strong breezes and the song of the night which may consume a melancholic heart if it were searching for tragedies instead of sweet dreams. And it had only been a few hours ago when you had thought that all of which transpired might've been a dream. Though, whatever truths that had come to light in the hours after the simulation, you were glad of them.

In the dark, sights and sounds were heightened and mesmerizing, albeit curious in its own right; if it hadn't been for the sound barrier Rick had on his property, you would've heard the obnoxious sound of the next-door neighbor's TV as they watched infomercials. Still, it was a beautiful night. Sitting on the bench which overlooked the whole yard, you thought of what wonderful things you'd like to share with Rick, and then he found you. For his part, he had changed into something more relaxed; into a light blue button-down that was similar to the one he was wearing earlier, but this one was softer, and it was paired with navy pants; it reminded you of blue pants Rick with his attire, but it was cute and suited him. With him, he had brought over a tray of goodies and you two ate cookies and cakes and drank earl grey under the moonlit night.

The pause in conversation gave allowances for observations. For example, you took a good long look at him as he sipped his tea; admiring how casual he appeared tonight. Without his labcoat or sweater, his identity seemed separate from that of his dimension jumping, scientist self; making way for the person deep inside; the friendly neighbor who won your heart without even trying. He noticed eventually that you had been staring at him, and he broke the silence with his inquiry. "What are y-you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about you cutie. You um….you look really good in those blue pants of yours. Thinking of taking up modeling anytime soon?"

"N-no," he answered with an air of obliviousness that you found endearing. "not unless my next work assignment requires it. Gee, why do you ask?"

"Hmm, it's because you wear your clothes well. I always thought you did, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it."

He ruminated on what you said for a few minutes, before setting down his cup. "Did you - did you always find me attractive?"

"No," you confessed. "but you're the only person I've ever really been attracted to. I…..I always liked the fact that our relationship was built on something more substantial. You see, the more I got to know you, the more irresistible I found you. Though," you winked. "those teeth of yours were always too cute to resist."

This truth of yours made him comfortable enough to relinquish one of his own. "C-can I tell you a secret?"

"It's not much of a secret if you tell me dear, but you can tell me anyway."

Wringing his hands together, he confessed solemnly. "That day y-you tripped on the sidewalk nearby my house, I-I almost decided not to cross the road."

Not cross the road? Hmm, it had been an option. In your mind's eye, you could imagine it; the tall, lanky figure of a man debating against his better judgment on what he ought to do; so close but so far; knowing that he was altering the course of his future and putting yours at risk. Poor man, having to wallow over a moral dilemma like that. "Why is that?"

"Gosh, y-you….I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."

It could've been taken that way, but you never thought so. "So what changed your mind?"

"I thought you were going to cry, and I-I didn't… I didn't want you to suffer anymore. I thought t-to myself, that if I got t-t-to know you, then you wouldn't have to be lonely anymore."

When he said this, you nearly couldn't look at him; not because he knew more than he let on, but because who knows what paths you two would've taken if he hadn't shown up that day. Tears bit at the back of your eyes, and your nails bit into your palms. "Dear, love isn't always a cure for heartache," He tensed up at this, but you knew you had to tell him. You weren't upset because you had guessed as much, but being assured of it cemented the fact. "but I'm sure that without you, without your friendship, I might not be here right now. I think I was depressed, and from time to time I still feel that way. I…I have thought of ways to make my troubles end, ways you might not have been proud of, but you've shown me a better way to live. I think…no, I know that by expanding my horizons, I understand now that there's so much to look forward to, and not to take life for granted. Why," you paused, fighting the tears which threatened to fall. "you reminded me that I gotta make the most of this crazy, unpredictable life, and I'm happy that I'll get to do that with you."

He understood and accepted this answer and gave you a look of adoration and pride; the like that you hoped you'd always remember. And when you two were done with tea, you both took a walk about the garden. The sweet perfume of jasmine intermingled with that of the scent of his soap, and combined with the candor of his speech made this place feel like a well of comfort. He followed behind you as you two spoke, and you were conscious of the fact that with his freshly washed hair brushed back, it made him more appealing. His hands were in want of yours as he matched your pace, and you felt slightly mischievous as you'd skip or teased him to catch you; it wasn't long until he gathered you in his arms and laughed, and you asked without much seriousness for him to let you go, but while he loosened his grip, he didn't let go entirely. "Gosh, y-you make me feel so young. It - it feels so good to have you in my arms."

"Oh, really?" you giggled. "That's great to hear."

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he sighed. "It's unfortunate that I'm so old."

"That's okay. I like you as you are. It goes well with your personality."

"Thank you mi corazón. It feels good to hear that. However, can I-I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"¿Si hubiera s-sido más joven, habría marcado la diferencia?"

"If you had been younger? I don't know. Possibly," you admitted. "I might've been less reluctant about my feelings at the beginning, but I truly don't know. I'd like to think that I'd still would've fallen for you anyway. You're a wonderful man Ricardo, you don't have to doubt that, anyone can see that. It doesn't matter how old you are, but it's who you are."

"Y-you're right." With reluctance, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, and he wondered. "It um - it's getting late. Should I-I walk you home?"

Was he forgetting that he didn't have to? Maybe not. Perhaps he needed a sign; one that said that any suggestion of further intimacy was alright. "I thought I was home." you answered, "Don't you want me to stay?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yes, I-I-I-I do."

"Then it's settled. We'll have a big sleepover," you brightened. "and it'll never have to end. I'll borrow a pair of your pj's and hog all the blankets because I'll get cold."

"And in - in the morning," he added warmly, "w-we can have pancakes."

"Yeah, and watch enough interdimensional cable to make us go blind."

"But I-I might have to work tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll just have to eat all your snacks until you come back. We might have to take a trip to Costco at some point because they sell these mushroom crisps that are to die for."

Standing under the persimmon tree, he stepped forward and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Y-you can have whatever you want," With a strong arm slipping around your waist, you felt almost shy at the way he smiled protectingly down at you. His warm breath ghosted about your ear, and his voice was above a whisper as he confessed. “because I-I-I finally got you princess and I'm not - I'm not going t-to let you go.”

At the sound of this pet name, you felt a slight warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn't laugh it off as you had once but agreed with warmth. “You may do as you please, Mr. Sanchez.”

And so he did. Without hesitation, he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. His eyes sparkling with humor, promise, and a confidence that was somehow so very appropriate on his face. "I love you. I-I-I always have. From the time I first held your hand, I knew it had to be you. I would've been a fool if I - if I hadn't tried. Even now, it's hard to believe, but it's starting to sink in."

"Me too. It's unbelievable, but it's true and we have the paperwork to prove it."

Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips. It was so gentle, it was as though you might break if he tried otherwise. Kissing you again, he sighed against your lips. "It's beautiful out t-tonight."

"It is."

Pressing a hand to his cheek, you softened. "But I think I'm ready to call it a night. Why don't we go in?"

Weaving his fingers with yours, he softened. "Okay."

You used to think to yourself and wonder if his house would ever be ready to receive you, but what you now realized was that it had always been ready, and only you had been waiting for it all to catch up; for him to know what he wanted and to be courageous and say; for you to know what you needed, and to accept that being yourself didn't make you any less attractive or unique and that you weren't alone; you had never been alone, for he had always been waiting. His home, why it was always home, but it was always home because he was what grounded you and you were what grounded him. And you felt so married to him then, and everything felt as it should. Nothing had really changed, except for a title, and a promise; for you two were friends as you had always been; him the happy go lucky old man, and you the silly neighbor who met him by accident, but you couldn't deny that you loved him with your entire being and so did he. As promised, he intended to do everything in his power to protect you, even as you two were getting ready for bed. His body seemed to curl around you as to shield you from whatever monsters could be hiding in the dark.

So, when it happened that you rested your head upon his chest and felt the temptation of sleep washing over you, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and confessed softly. "I can't wait to wake up next to you."

Fin

#doofus rick #doofus rick x reader #rick sanchez x reader #J19ζ7 #j19z7 #rick j19z7 #Rick and morty #Rnm #rnm fanfic #rnm fanfiction #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fanfic #multi chapter #marriage #my fanfiction #my works #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfic

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Note

I for once am in a mood for quindo fluff. Some playful bickering perhaps?

Given that you’ve asked me for this twice, Percy, I would have felt very bad not giving it to you.😂😂😂😂 Here’s the Quindo bickering content of your dreams, but from Remy’s POV! Set during junior year, and briefly featuring two more fictional hockey players of my creation.

Also on ao3, in the ficlet collection. (Ask/send me anything about the crickets!)

junior year | october

The commotion in the kitchen wakes Remy up from the best nap he’s had in awhile, and that in and of itself is a sin.

Naps are not only a spiritually enriching experience, they’re also essential. Remy is slowly learning to use them as a remedy for the fact that he only gets so many hours of sleep per night. Ben keeps telling him that he should look into taking melatonin or something for the insomnia, but it always feels like a problem for another day. The other day it’s a problem for has yet to come.

So today, after he wakes up at five AM and does not fall back asleep, he spends the better half of the morning in the library busting out his entire upcoming paper for HI 387 (British Empire). When he finishes formatting his bibliography, he feels his primal nap instinct coming on, and the sky outside looks gray, which just helps the urge along. He gathers up his stuff, walks back to the house on Beech Street, changes into sweats, and flops into his bed with his feet on the pillow and head on the pile of stuffed animals at the end of the mattress.

Only God and Ben Shaley can judge him for his stuffed animal collection.

Some indeterminate time later, he wakes to the noise downstairs. He can’t make out exactly what’s being said, but he’d know Quinn’s shrill voice anywhere, piercing the stairwell and creeping right up into Remy’s room.

There’s a steady rain drumming on the window, and he lifts his head off of his arm. He feels like he accidentally imprinted the sleeve of his sweatshirt onto his cheek, if the weird bumpy sensation when he runs his fingers over his face is any indication. This is a sign of a good nap. Unfortunately, it’s been interrupted.

Downstairs, Quinn is still talking. He has one volume, and it’s loud.

Remy buries his face in between his stuffed snake and his duck, and sighs.

He lays in bed for a minute more, weighing the merits of attempting Naptime Part Two versus going downstairs to see what the fuss is about. In reality, he knows that there’s probably no fuss at all, and that Quinn is just on another of his random rants which must double as practicing onstage projection based on how loud and animated he can get. Remy fishes through his plush pile until he finds his phone, where he checks the time— it’s 3:02, which means he slept for at least two and a half hours. If he tries to go back to sleep now , there’s no way he’ll ever be able to get to sleep at the normal time to go to sleep.

So he rolls over, sits up in bed, and rubs his eyes. He feels a mighty yawn coming on, but it doesn’t actually hit him until he fixes his shirt— somehow, under his hoodie, it bunched all the way up to his chest in his sleep. And the ankle seam on one of his joggers is up to his knee.

Wow. It really was a good nap.

The yawn hits him when he stands up and out of bed. He kind of feels like a zombie, walking after such a deep sleep. He guesses it isn’t such a bad thing to be so well-rested. It’s been awhile.

Downstairs, Quinn’s voice persists. When he opens his bedroom door and steps out into the hallway, another factor comes into play— somebody is cooking down there, and, well, okay, he can say ‘somebody’ but the smell tells him without a doubt it’s Nando. It smells like that spicy chicken soup recipe he loves making on rainy, crappy days, and Remy had no idea he was hungry, but all of a sudden his stomach growls like a feral cat.

Jeez.

As he heads down the stairs, slow but steady, he can gradually start to make out Quinn’s words. “... do not understand even in the slightest how you can work like this—”

“Baby,” he hears Nando laugh, which puts a temporary stop to Quinn’s tirade. “I swear, there’s a method to my madness!”

“Oh, it’s madness, alright,” Quinn replies. “I mean, goodness , Sebastián—” There’s a clatter of dishware, like someone has put something in the sink. “You’re building an entire tower over here!”

Remy rounds the corner into the kitchen just in time for Nando to protest, “But I’m gonna clean it… promise!”

Quinn is the first thing he sees, orange-haired and pint-sized in a baggy (obviously stolen) sweatshirt and gesturing snappily. He stands next to the counter. “The issue isn’t that you’ll clean it eventually,” he’s saying to Nando, who leans against the stove with a goofy grin on his face and a ladle in his hand. The huge pot on the burner behind him, Remy wagers, must be the source of the smell. “The issue ,” Quinn adds, “is the mess.”

Which, okay, yeah. There’s a mess.

Nando has stacked the sink full of obviously relevant dishes, and both counters are laid with evidence that he was there, from cutting boards to empty cans to knives. Nando being a disaster cook isn’t new news, not to Remy or to Quinn or anyone else in this house— but he must have struck a nerve with Quinn today, by the looks of it.

Quinn looks ready to gear up for another rant, and Remy’s half-asleep brain doesn’t really love the thought of that, so he cuts in before he can. “ Crisse , Q,” he says, rubbing his eye as he stands in the kitchen doorway. “Is there a national emergency?”

Quinn folds his arms and lets off a sigh, leaning his hip against the counter. “There may as well be.”

Nando is grinning at him, like he’s trying not to laugh. “ Baby .”

They’re not alone in the kitchen, though— Ben is at the table by the window, sketching by the looks of it, based on his huge spreads of paper and the pencil stuck into his bun. Jordy and Sam are playing cards at the same tabletop Quinn is leaning against, and X is next to them, on his phone. “Stay out of it, Rem,” Ben remarks, turning in his seat to face him, with a half-grin on his face. “He is on the warpath .”

Quinn snaps his head over to Ben. “I am not on the warpath,” he says. “I am maintaining a sense of order.”

Nando puts his hand over his face and makes a noise like he’s trying not to laugh. Quinn whips back to him and jabs his finger at him menacingly, which is really hard to do when you’re 5’6 but your boyfriend is 6’4. Quinn does it anyway. “ Sebastián Hernandez , you are going to get it—”

Remy suppresses a laugh of his own, and slumps into the chair across the table from Ben. “How long has this been going?” he asks, in a low voice.

Ben is still grinning. “Like ten minutes?” he replies. “He got in from his drama thing and unleashed holy terror.”

Remy sighs. “Great.”

“I hear you talking about me, Ben,” Quinn calls across the room, despite the fact that calling is completely unnecessary given the size of the kitchen.

Ben shields his face with one hand. “White flag! I surrender. I’m sorry, your majesty, for my great offense—”

“ Benjamin .”

Ben winces, and pulls the pencil out of his hair. “Message received,” he remarks, and goes back to his spread of papers. It is drawing stuff. Remy doesn’t understand architecture homework, but Ben is great at it.

Remy watches as Quinn walks back to the sink. He turns the faucet on, as if to conquer the stack of Nando’s cooking collateral. “How do you people live like this?”

“How are you surprised?” X asks, not looking up from his phone but grinning like crazy. “You were in here all last year.”

Which is true. Although Remy just moved into Beech for his first year this preseason, Nando lived here last year, too. Quinn is well familiar with the disasters he makes in kitchens, particularly the Beech kitchen. At least freshman year, he was relegated to the shitty student kitchen in the basement of Wilson Hall, the freshman boys’ dorm. Beech Street gives him a space of his own. Which is good because the whole team gets to eat his food. But bad in the process of making said food.

“I’m not surprised, Xander,” Quinn says, turning to X, in a slightly less homicidal tone. He holds a soapy blue sponge in his left hand. “I merely wish that a certain boyfriend of mine would learn to clean up his messes—”

“I told you, baby,” Nando replies, stirring his soup with the ladle, “I’m gonna clean, when I’m all finished. What’s the use of cleaning during the process, when I’m just gonna make a mess again on the same surface?”

Quinn turns off the sink, presses his fingers to his own temple, takes a long breath, and replies, “What’s the use of keeping your empty bean cans on the counter?” He points the sponge to the counter, where there are, in fact, empty bean cans everywhere. His point makes a flicking motion and sends a stray sud flying into the air. It lands on the floor. “ Empty bean cans , Sebastián.”

“They’re just cans,” Nando replies.

Quinn bristles, puts the sponge in the sink, and dries his hands on a kitchen towel. “And the rubbish barrel,” he replies, pacing to the counter, “is right there.”

Quinn scoops the cans off the counter, opens the top of the nearby trash, and drops them into the bag beneath. With a hmph , he turns his pointy, freckled nose up at Nando, like he’s saying so there.

Nando blows him a kiss, which intensifies Quinn’s rage. “Thanks, mi amor .”

Across the table, Ben is still grinning even as he draws, like he wants to laugh, and Remy can’t blame him. This is not at all an unfamiliar dynamic— since their earliest days dating, Nando and Quinn’s relationship has been characterized by bickering like they’re an old, married couple.

Well, okay. In actuality, their ‘bickering’ looks more like Quinn bitching at Nando and getting nothing but heart eyes in return. Nando is a simp, and Quinn is an irritable priss, and they’re in love.

Remy doesn’t get romance, but he knows it works for them.

Ben looks up from his sketching, and catches Remy’s eye across the table. He wears the unmistakable smile of someone who is going to cause problems on purpose. “Duck,” he murmurs, in a mischievous voice with volume only for him. “Watch this.”

“Oh, God,” Remy mutters, but it’s too late.

Ben leans over the back of his chair and remarks, “Y’know, Quinny, you talk mad shit for someone who can’t cook to save his life.”

Remy snorts into the neckline of his sweatshirt. “ Ben .” At the stove, Nando guffaws. Jordy and Sam, who, as wise, observant bystanders, have chosen to remain quiet right up until now, both start heckling like their brains are connected. (They’re a D-pair, so they probably are, come to think of it.) “ Yoooo ,” Sam mumbles, and Jordy lets out a quiet, “Oh, shit.”

Flushed pink in the face, Quinn whirls on his heel to face Ben and Remy’s table. He has the energy of a tea kettle that’s ready to start screeching. “ Benjamin Shaley .”

Ben grins, owning his chirp. “What, so you can dish it, but you can’t take it?”

“You’ve gotta get used to that,” Jordy cuts in. “Being manager comes with the responsibility to get chirped…”

“Oh, trust me, Jordan.” Of all the people in the kitchen, Jordy seems to have irritated Quinn the least. “I am well accustomed to the chirping.”

“Yeah, Jordy,” Nando adds, with a big grin as he pulls up a steaming ladle of his soup. “He’s been dating me for two years.”

“Oh, please ,” Ben replies, because he is clearly not done. “I’ve never heard you chirp him in your life , Nanny. All you do is kiss his ass.”

Remy snorts again. “ Yoooooo !” Sam cries.

Nando drops his ladle into the pot. “ Rho ! I do too chirp him!”

Ben laughs wildly. “You do not ,” he says. “You don’t dare chirp him. You’re too busy simping twenty-four-seven.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you chirp Quinn,” X offers, still grinning at his phone.

Remy jumps on the bandwagon. “They kinda have a point, Nanny,” he says, and waits for the reign of terror to descend upon him.

But Quinn has apparently tuned out. Rather than participate, he has chosen the duration of this exchange to tidy up Nando’s counter mess. He throws away trash— the fragments of a poblano pepper, the remaining bean cans, a bag that held frozen corn. Then he deposits the cutting board into the sink with the knife Nando was using.

“There we go.” He wipes his hands on the dish towel, then turns around to face their side table again, and Remy thinks for a second that he’s going to take another shot at Ben. Instead, Quinn looks to him , which is terrifying until he says, very evenly, “Hello, Remy. I heard you had a nap.”

“Uh.” Remy isn’t sure if Quinn would kill him if he laughed. He can turn on a dime. It’s terrifying. But also beneficial, for managerial purposes. “Yeah,” he tells Quinn. “It was a good nap.”

“Well, good.” Quinn dusts off the front of his sweatshirt. It says Hernandez on the sleeve, as if its sheer size on him wasn’t proof enough that it’s stolen property. “I hope we didn’t disturb you too much.”

“Oh—” Now Remy does let out his laugh. He doesn’t dare tell Quinn that yes, actually, he did wake him up. He really did need to get up for the afternoon, so it doesn’t matter. “Uh, no. It’s fine.”

“Good.” Quinn smiles, then turns back around, walking to Nando by the giant soup pot. He rises on his tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “Isn’t that better?” he asks him, gesturing to the clear countertop.

Nando is still grinning, like the huge simp he is, and smiles sideways at Quinn as he stirs the soup. “Much better, baby.” He wraps him up sideways in his arm. Quinn gets swallowed by the sheer size of him, as usual. “Thank you,” Nando adds, and gives him an actual kiss.

Quinn is still flushed in the face, but now it’s that cheesy blush Remy has watched Nando give him so many times. Just like that, Quinn has cooled off, and the noise level in the kitchen is better for it. Remy looks away, because watching them together always feels like an invasion of privacy, even when they’re engaging in mild PDA. He thinks it’s just a him thing.

Nando keeps cooking. Quinn keeps him company. Ben gets back to drawing, and X to scrolling, and Jordy and Sam to their cards. The rain keeps pattering at the windows, and conversation returns to a normal level, and it’s a perfectly normal Sunday afternoon.

Yeah. Remy doesn’t get romance. And he definitely never will. But he loves this team, and he loves this house, and he really loves his friends.

#crickets #quindo #rat boy #ficlet #ao3 link #mini quinny #nandoooooooo #rhode island headass #kiersey men's hockey #kiersey college #mel writes

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