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trashyocstash · 1 year

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next chapter of the aran/cadhla fic

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

Cadhla awoke in the morning, the sun's rays hitting her face. She smiled, having had a pleasant dream involving her and Aran at the beach and getting to see him topless…she blushed just thinking about it.

As she laid on her bed, the memories of her day with him yesterday hit her. Aran had been so kind and helpful, and sure he clearly had an ego, but Cadhla didn't mind. She enjoyed his company, and couldn't wait to see him again.

She yawned and stretched her arms, then slipped out of bed and into her kitchen, intending on making breakfast. But when she opened a cabinet door, it hit her..

There was no food.

So far she'd just been eating fast food, and knew she couldn't do that forever. Cadhla knew she needed to head out and get herself some groceries later. She'd been busy with work and spending time with Aran, and that combined with the fast food she'd been eating meant that getting groceries had completely slipped her mind. Well, at least now she'd thought of it and looked forward to spending time cooking and baking. She didn't have to worry about appliances either as the apartment had come with some already.

For now, she was hungry and decided to simply order some McDonald's breakfast food. Once that arrived, she relaxed and watched some TV.

As she did so while eating her food, Cadhla thought about how things were going for her in Dublin so far. She'd come here for work, excited to land a job working for the WVBA, but had never imagined she'd gain a crush thanks to it. Aran was friendly with her, and she greatly appreciated him, her heart raced just thinking about him and how handsome and muscular he was…

She blushed and shook those thoughts from her mind, choosing to instead focus on her breakfast and the TV.

Once she finished eating, Cadhla got ready for the day, before heading out to do some grocery shopping. She looked up places in Dublin to buy food, and made her way to the nearest one.

As she got her food, Cadhla felt…nervous. Sure Aran had helped her out yesterday, but she was still new, and thus still felt out of place. It was difficult to go from a place with nearly 6,200 people, to a place with over a million people.

Considering she'd gotten Aran's help before, she decided to text him, maybe it would make her feel better.

"Hey Aran!" She texted.

A few minutes later, she got a response. "Hey."

Cadhla felt giddy inside that he had responded, she smiled and gave him a reply. "I'm at a grocery store right now, I don't think I've ever gone shopping in a place with so many people!"

"Heh, don't worry about it. You'll get used to it. If it helps, just ignore the crowd." He texted back.

She figured that advice might help her. "Thanks, I'll try that."

Soon, Cadhla was looking at some different pancake mix options when her phone buzzed. Another text?

She picked it up, and Aran had sent her a picture. Upon checking her messages, she saw an adorable grey Irish wolfhound puppy, wearing a black collar with a green shamrock shaped tag on it reading "Lucky". There was also an accompanying message from Aran. "Thought you'd wanna see my dog, Lucky."

"Oh he's so cute! I love him!"

"I knew you would."

It was out of the blue to get that picture, but Cadhla appreciated it. She figured he just decided to randomly share Lucky with her, or maybe he was trying to cheer her up. Either way, she appreciated it, and wondered if she'd ever get to meet Lucky.

Cadhla put her phone back in her purse, and continued grocery shopping, settling on one of the boxes of pancake mix before browsing more of the store.

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Later on, she finished shopping and returned home. Cadhla put her groceries away, and when finished, checked her phone. There was another text from Aran.

"Wanna go on that beach trip later?"

She smiled eagerly seeing the text, of course she would, she couldn't pass up spending time with him and was interested in Dublin's beaches. Plus she had a bikini she could wear and other stuff for the beach. She quickly texted him back.

"Of course! What time?"

It took a little bit, but he replied. "1pm. I'll go to your apartment, just tell me the address."

She texted him her address and got a "Thanks!" as a reply. Cadhla felt excited, and began getting ready for the beach trip with him. At the back of her mind, she thought about that dream of hers coming true…

Soon enough, it was 1pm and Aran arrived, a bag with stuff for the beach in hand.

"You ready?" He asked.

She picked up her own bag and nodded. "Yep!"

"Then let's get going."

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They soon arrived at one of Dublin's beaches, Dollymount Strand. Cadhla saw Aran and her heart sped up and her face was a deep red.

He was topless, revealing his strong chest and stomach muscles. All he was wearing was some sandals and a pair of green swim shorts. Cadhla's mind was racing, but she managed to gather herself together and take off her top and shorts, revealing the bikini she was wearing underneath.

Now it was Aran's turn to ogle, she was in a yellow bikini, and wearing her usual sandals and necklace, but with the addition of a flower in her hair. He stared at her curves and cleavage, she was a lovely sight. But he knew he knew had to hold himself back and just smirked. "You look great."

"I do?"

"Yep, now come on, they got kitesurfing here."

Cadhla smiled and followed him over to where they could go kitesurfing together. She'd never tried it before, but thought it would be fun, especially with Aran around.

The spot on the beach that offered it was called "Pure Magic", and Aran was pretty eager to try. There was an instructor who seemed to know who Aran was, because he was petrified the whole time. It didn't help that Aran gave him the stink eye if he looked over at Cadhla a little too long.

Cadhla was enjoying herself at least. She felt at home in the ocean, and soon got the hang of it. Aran followed her and they both had a blast. When they finished, Aran gave the instructor another stink eye.

He then looked at Cadhla. "Wanna grab a bite to eat? There's a cafe here called Happy Out we could head to."

"Sure!" She agreed.

They got their food and drinks there and headed back to their spot, sitting on towels together. Cadhla looked at the water and smiled. "I've always loved the beach back home, I spent so much time snorkelling, swimming and sailing there so I…feel at home in the ocean in general…is that silly?"

Aran chuckled. "Nope, I get it. Hell I know there's people terrified of the ocean," He smirked. "You're braver than them."

She giggled. "I guess you're right."

Aran thought about how he noticed that she seemed like a natural out there, kitesurfing, he figured now it was down to how comfortable she felt out there. She wasn't afraid of falling in the water or anything like that. He was glad to have helped her feel closer to home, and also thought about eventually getting his hands on a boat for her. In the meantime, there was at least something else they could do.

"Hey after this, you wanna go swimming?"

Cadhla grinned at that. "Of course!"

That grin made his heart beat in his chest, and he felt flustered that she got that reaction out of him, so tried to ignore it.

Once they finished eating, they ran off to the ocean together and started swimming. Cadhla was a natural, swimming gracefully with not much effort, and Aran happily followed her.

"Now why didn't you become a swimmer? Seems like you'd be great at that." He wondered aloud to her.

"I guess it's all more just a hobby for me, I love art, I've always loved using computers so…I guess graphic design just came naturally to me and something I'm passionate about." She replied.

Aran smiled. He'd never say it aloud, but he was glad she chose graphic design, he wouldn't have met her otherwise.

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

After their day at the beach, they put their clothes back on and headed for a pub Aran told Cadhla he liked.

They ate some food and chatted together when someone approached Cadhla, clearly interested.

"Hey there cutie."

Cadhla frowned, clearly bothered by the unwanted attention but too nervous and shy to say so.

Luckily, she had Aran with her who noticed she was uncomfortable and stared daggers at the other man. "She's not interested."

The other man looked annoyed. "You her boyfriend or something?"

"Nope, but I don't have to be to tell you to back off."

"Well too bad for you, cause I'm not going anywhere."

Aran stood up, and the man soon recognized him, muttering out a "shit" in response. Aran smirked. "Too late to back down now."

Cadhla watched as a fight broke out between Aran and the other man, who was clearly drunk judging by the way he was fighting. She appreciated Aran standing up for her but she didn't want this.

She approached the two, a bit cautiously. "Aran…please stop.."

He heard her and stared at her, letting the other man go in response, who ran off terrified and had a beaten up face.

Cadhla sighed. "We should go."

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

They left the pub and Aran drove her home. He grinned proudly. "Were you impressed or what?"

"I don't want to see you fighting over me..you didn't need to go that far.." She replied.

Aran frowned, he got into that fight to impress her, but it seemed it didn't work. "I did it for you, that guy was being a creep."

"I know but…it escalated too fast.."

He didn't reply to that, and soon Cadhla spoke up again. "I…do appreciate you protecting me though…I know your heart was in the heart place.."

Aran blushed and smiled. "You don't gotta worry about any creeps with me around."

"I'm glad..just…don't take it that far again unless you've got no choice."

"I gotcha."

They soon arrived at her apartment and said their goodbyes. Cadhla changed into her nightgown and laid down on her bed, thinking of everything that happened today.

Aran had protected her, not in the way she would've wanted but knowing he cared enough for her to do so made her heart beat fast in her chest. She just hoped to avoid any unnecessary fighting in the future, rather hoping the next time she'd see him fight would be in the ring.

There was also the beach trip, how fun that was and how she got to feel close to home…plus there was the sight of Aran topless that kept entering her mind. She rubbed her legs together and blushed, knowing the pleasant dreams that awaited her tonight.

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As for Aran, he thought about how he defended her from that creep, how he thought about the sight of her in her bikini, how he brought her to the beach because he knew it aligned with her interests.

Was he developing feelings for her? He shook that thought away, love wasn't his thing and it certainly wouldn't change with Cadhla's presence.

#aran/cadhla

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

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road trip headcanons [ genshin guys ]

prompt: road trip hcs for the genshin guys characters: albedo, childe, dainsleif, diluc, kaeya, scaramouche, xiao, zhongli w/ gn!reader word count: 2.3k words warnings: none? fluff, modern!au

a/n: for all the guys,,, besides the unreleased ones/ones we haven't met in quests HAHA

albedo

when asked to create a road trip playlist, albedo is the type to queue up scientific podcasts. he says they're relaxing and that being idle in the car is a great time to learn.

if he's not the one driving, he 100% has a blanket and is cozy in the passenger's seat. if there's no conversation, he might as well use the time to sleep, right?

but, if you ask albedo about his current research or begin to tell him about your day, he'll be wide awake and either listening or blabbing away. unlike how he reacts to most people, conversations with you never bore him.

if you do nag him into playing music instead, he'll play classical music. it's mentally stimulating, okay?

he'll have fun telling you species of trees that the two of you pass.

is an excellent driver. he's smart and driving is a piece of cake for him. probably the best driver of all of the guys listed here and he's very quiet with his frustrations as well.

if you let albedo fall asleep, he'll fill the car with soft snores before abruptly shaking his head as he sits up, awake.

if conversation lulls and he's not driving yet can't sleep, he'll pull out his sketchbook and (not-so-secretively) draw pictures of you.

... will likely ask to stop for ice cream. he has a sweet tooth... use it as a chance to steal a kiss with the excuse that he has ice cream on the corner of his mouth!

will plan what hotels you stop at ahead of time because albedo knows you'll get tired and he wants to ensure that you're well-rested, as compared to having to sleep in the car for part of the time.

childe

is a pretty decent driver but takes aggressive drivers as competition, so don't let this man drive in the city.

childe will stop for fast food if you'd like, but also enjoys preparing snacks for the two of you to take. look, he cut you a little bag of strawberries in the shape of hearts! he's kind of a dork about this so hype him up, he'll get flustered but in a good way.

has a playlist of 00's bops that he knows every single word to. WILL make you duet promiscuous with him.

he's pretty noisy, but burns out quickly in energy. after an hour or two of singing, he'll likely suddenly get kind of mellow and go quiet for a few minutes hehe.

will find anything and everything to talk about. he doesn't want you to get bored!

tries to drive the car more than you because he doesn't want you to feel obligated to drive ;;; he just wants you to relax!

will point out weird license plates or bumper stickers he sees on other cars.

whenever you two stop to use the bathroom, he probably ends up kissing you for several minutes in the parking lot lol

inadvertently messes up his sleep schedule by napping too much

definitely dreams of you in his sleep and sleep talks through it. the two of you can have a conversation while he naps in the car, but he won't remember any of it nor will his contributions even be coherent.

dainsleif

naturally, he's just kind of a... quiet presence. you'll have to handle the aux cord or start conversation, otherwise dain will sit there brooding in his own thoughts.

probably hasn't been on a road trip with anyone before, but finds himself really appreciating your company as he drives!

is a good driver but absolutely gets confused by toll roads. forgets his wallet in his luggage, which is packed securely in the trunk, so he's fumbling for spare change whenever the two of you pass one.

probably doesn't like fast food but will begrudgingly eat french fries from mcdonalds if you stop. (get him a happy meal... you can watch him fumble with the toy for a few minutes)

doesn't like to sleep if you're driving. he knows you're capable, he just has a natural tendency to worry that something will happen if you're not awake.

dainsleif will tell you stories of his past if you ask him, but only if you've been on the road for a few hours. there's something about the soft intimacy of being in the car with you for that long that makes him want to share parts of himself with you, but only if you wish to hear them.

if you two pass a truly scenic area, he'll stop to take your picture. he's sentimental, okay? it'll take a bit of coaxing to get him to take a selfie with you, though.

refuses to go above the speed limit. dain says they're there for a reason. however, if you call him a bootlicker for this, he refuses to go no less than 5 over the speed limit from then on.

doesn't recline his chair whatsoever. his legs and torso are perpendicular.

... will want to hold your hand as he's driving. sure, two hands is safer, but he likes the feel of your hand in his!

diluc

offers to just buy the two of you first class plane tickets to wherever you wish to go, even if it's only an hour or two drive away.

doesn't really get the appeal of a road trip at first, yet agrees to go anyways... he can't resist when you look at him with such pleading eyes.

after you explain the appeal to him, diluc nods as if he understands, then offers to pay for a driver so the two of you can sit in the backseat together. he clearly does not understand.

making diluc eat mcdonalds for the first time on a road trip. is baffled by the concept of a bts meal. eats it anyways. is slightly mad you got a happy meal and he didn't because he's jealous of the toy.

probably packs a whole charcuterie board as a snack or whatever lmfao but FRESH GRAPES,,, fresh grapes galore,,,

whips out a clear cup full of grape juice and starts chugging it while driving until you lecture him that a cop will probably think its wine and pull the two of you over.

if you're driving, diluc unabashedly just stares at you when he thinks you're not paying attention. he finds you pretty, okay?

doesn't really know the songs you play on the aux too well, yet hums along to them under his breath if he can pick up on the melody.

doesn't like small talk, but it's not small talk if it's you! diluc... might not be the best conversationalist for the hours you're in the car together, but he'll try, just for you!

will book a really nice hotel for the two of you then immediately just tugs you into bed with him. just because the two of you spent the whole day in the car together doesn't mean he's had enough of you yet -- it's not like he could just reach over and give you a hug in the middle of driving!

kaeya

the best music of all of the guys. easily the most trustworthy with the aux. probably has a pretty decent singing voice, yet won't sing louder than a soft melody.

likes to stop for fast food on the road, but also really tries to find local restaurants in the area for the two of you to eat at. he figures giggling with you in a booth is a nice break from the eyesore of the same repetitive scenes while driving.

whines if you don't hold his hand, whether it be you driving or him driving. you can't sit there looking that cute and not hold his hand.

will snore if he falls asleep so you're probably gonna have to wake him up whenever he dozes off if you want to stay sane.

definitely speeds but then nearly breaks whenever he sees a possible cop car. if you weren't awake before, you certainly are now whenever he abruptly changes the speed.

is really experienced with city driving, so if it makes you anxious, he's your best bet.

will randomly comment on how cute you look while driving and will also curse out anyone on the road who makes you angry while you drive. he's supportive! plus he finds it fun

likes to drive into the night. its especially nice for him if you're in an area with low light pollution. he finds the night sky fascinating and, much to your surprise, knows little constellations and will point them out to you.

likes to play a game when the two of you are on the road. he describes a person that the both of you know in abstract terms and your job is to guess them. whenever kaeya starts off with a negative description, you know he's talking about diluc.

he's often busy with work and kaeya finds that love is stored in the little things, so being able to spend this time with you, even if it's the mundane task of driving, means the world to him.

scaramouche

surprisingly doesn't get road rage. instead, he gets passenger road rage, in which he gets really angry if people seem like they're trying to fuck with you while you're driving.

very knowledgeable about little hole-in-the-wall places to stop on your drive... no, he didn't make an itinerary, stop looking at his phone!

doesn't really like to stop for fast food either. would prefer to stop at a sit-down restaurant, mainly so you can relax.

it's hard for you to irritate him, but you realize you can push his buttons by asking 'are we there yet?'. scaramouche will passive aggressively gesture to the gps and estimated arrival time.

if you ask him again immediately after he does that, he'll start muttering prayers in snezhnayan that you can't understand. if you didn't know him better, you'd be petrified.

this is your ONE CHANCE to smother him in compliments. he has nowhere to run away. instead, he has to sit there while you tell him how lovely and cute he is, all while slowly turning into a tomato in the process.

probably only wears pajamas during the road trip. why look fancy when you could feel comfy?

subtly offering snacks and drinks all the time to you. he just wants to make sure you're well taken care of, even if he can't necessarily communicate it in the nicest way.

you can tell he's about to fall asleep when he starts getting all sappy to you. you're his soft spot and scaramouche just... really wants you to know how much he appreciates you. no, he's not crying. harbingers don't cry. look away. your eyes are deceiving you, just like the stars.

xiao

bounces his legs constantly in the car. he doesn't ride them very often and is unused to the mechanical movements, so bouncing his leg soothes him.

also gets a bit antsy after a while, so he's nearly clawing at the walls by the time the two of you stop to take a break and walk around.

clenches the steering wheel a bit too hard... but you don't comment on it. he looks tense enough while driving.

surprisingly has pretty decent music. it's likely just a generic lo-fi playlist he found on spotify, but its a far cry from what you expected him to actually play.

like diluc, xiao will stare at you while he's driving. he's an admirer, and he finds the way your brow subtly furrows as you see something in the distance to be utterly mesmerizing.

call him out for it and he gets all embarrassed, but will also grumble about how he loves you under his breath.

he's kind of clumsy with a kamera whenever the two of you stop, but he likes to take pictures of everything!

sometimes, when the two of you are sightseeing wherever you decide to stop, you'll suddenly notice that xiao is no longer by your side. look behind you and you'll find xiao stopping to pet and talk to any dog that the two of you pass.

likes to buy you little trinkets from gift shops if they remind him of you. oh, the little sculpture is the same color of your eyes? oh, it's an object that has your birthstone in it? oh, it's a cute stuffed plush of your favorite animal? xiao's secretly buying it while your distracted and giving it to you in the car.

zhongli

music isn't very necessary when you have thousands of years of information stored in one being right next to you!

likes to use the road trip as driving practice... he's still acclimating to living with humanity.

uses a gps just in case roads have changed, but is very familiar with the terrain and tells you stories about different areas you pass through.

isn't too familiar with the human side of things, so it's up to you to figure out where the two of you will stop for lunch and dinner. just... no seafood for him, please.

likes to hold your hand while he's driving and rub his thumb back and forth of your knuckles. he finds it comforting.

you had to explain to him what a road trip consisted of before the two of you set out (as, y'know, he used to be a god and is used to teleporting places) and zhongli is utterly enthralled by the concept.

part of humanity that zhongli is still trying to grasp is how it's okay if results aren't immediate. sometimes the fun is found in the journey, not the destination, and zhongli truly understands that during his road trip with you.

while he has eons of information of his own life to share, zhongli also enjoys sitting back and discussing your own life stories. sure, they might not be as grand as tales of the archon war, but they're you, so zhongli adores them nonetheless.

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Win Me Back

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader’s ex-boyfriend comes back to town, he finds a way to make amends— with a little help from her niece.

Category: FLUFF

Warnings: None other than a few swears :)

Word Count: 3k (I barely made the limit, folks, that was hard lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my entry for @homoose ‘s 2k Celebration!! And if this fic seems familiar, that may be because it’s a re-telling of the car-wash scene from Ramona and Beezus 🤭😂 It’s one of my favorite movie scenes of all time, it never fails to make me squeal, and I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!

Also! I tried very hard to find the scene for you to watch incase you haven’t seen the movie, but the ones I did manage to find on YouTube cut out THE BEST PARTS, so I’m sorry 😭 But in case you want to know the ~vibes~ I tried to capture and don’t feel like watching the movie, I made THIS post last night with some dialogue/background from the scene if you’d like to read it! Obviously it’s not required since what I’ve written is quite different, but it is encouraged 😊

I hope you like it!! And if somehow you haven’t followed Moose yet, you should! She’s the sweetest ❤❤❤

***

Y/N found an abundance of upsides to taking neighborhood walks with her niece. For one thing, it gave her a distraction, something to focus on as she made sure eight-year-old Piper wouldn't wander too far from the sidewalk. She found solace in quizzing her on the multiplication table as they made their way around the block, an activity in which Piper enthusiastically flaunted her love of numbers.

It was also nice to stay outside and take in the warm sun and soft rustling of the trees, though every once in a while all of it wasn't enough to keep the memory of Spencer at bay.

After all, it was kind of hard when he was back in town, and after all these years he was reaching out to her like he hadn't broken her heart in the first place.

"You seem sad, Auntie," Piper said, grabbing Y/N's hand as the turned the corner.

Y/N swung their arms together gently, smiling down at her with a tilt of her head. "Why d'you think that, hon?"

Piper gave a little shrug, her ponytail blowing softly behind her. "You don't smile as much. And you always smile when you're with me... And you asked me the same times equation 3 times in a row just now. You're distracted."

Y/N couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her. You sound just like Spencer... Instead, she told her, "Aw, I'm sorry, Kiddo. My mind is just in a... confusing place right now. But I'm very happy that you got to come stay with me this weekend, you always brighten my day." She punctuated her sentence with a little boop on Piper's nose, to which she giggled and asked for another math equation.

The two of them continued around the block a few rounds, though on their fourth and final one, Y/N noticed very familiar car parked just outside her house.

Heart jumping into her throat, she stopped in her tracks, and Piper kept going only to be pulled back slightly. The girl turned to her aunt and furrowed her brow. "Auntie, why did we stop?"

"Um... I just wasn't expecting any company today besides you..."

Y/N certainly wasn't ready to discuss everything that was going on with Spencer to anyone, let alone her eight-year-old niece who wouldn't probably understand or care anyway. So she explained it the best way she could, quickly coming up with a plan to avoid him as long as possible.

"See the car parked over there?" Y/N asked, and Piper nodded. "Well, that's an... old friend of mine... And we haven't talked in a long time because we don't really get along anymore. So when we get up to the house, he might try to talk to us, and I'm going to tell him that we're busy."

"He's not mean, is he?"

Sensing Piper's reservations, Y/N reassured her while letting her own contempt for her ex fuel the conversation. "No, but... He broke my heart. And he—"

"Y/N... Hi..."

She nearly jumped, mostly from surprise, but also at the fact that hearing her name coming from his lips and his voice and just him brought back a flood of feelings she'd rather have forgotten. Still, she turned to him and cleared her throat. "Spencer... Hi."

Piper suddenly let go of Y/N's hand, a small scoff escaping her. "Oh. Spencer..."

The two adults turned to look at her with surprise, though it was Spencer who spoke up. "You... know me?"

"Mhm," Piper returned with a nod, crossing her arms. "I heard Mom and Auntie talk about you yesterday, and she says you have a stupid, beautiful face."

"Piper!" Y/N screeched, heat rising to her face. "I... You can't tell people that, I— That's not... I..."

"Oh... I'm sorry, Auntie," the little girl said quietly.

Y/N was fully prepared to dig a hole and stay buried in it forever, and her embarrassment grew even stronger when Spencer spoke up again. "It's okay," he reassured gently, a small laugh sounding from his throat that regrettably gave Y/N butterflies. "You're auntie's definitely right, I do have a stupid face."

Before Y/N could stop the conversation altogether, Piper cut in quickly, being sure to add, "And beautiful."

Spencer's eyes flicked up to Y/N, drawing her in with amusement and charm, a fact which she hated to her core. Because it was working, and that was annoying as hell. "Yep," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "And beautiful."

And then the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, flashing her the most amused, stupidly perfect smirk.

Piper started talking again, and for the second time that day, Y/N wished she hadn't even said anything at all, keeping this whole situation to herself.

"But we can't talk to you, because you broke Auntie's heart, and we're busy. C'mon, Auntie. Let's go." Piper grabbed Y/N's hand and led her up the rest of sidewalk until they got to the driveway. And even though it might have been childish to completely ignore Spencer as they walked past, not giving him a second glance, quite frankly she was quick to abort the situation as soon as possible.

Unfortunately for her, Spencer was persistent.

They were almost to the steps up to the door when he called out. "Piper! Can I ask you something?"

The little girl turned around, losing grip of Y/N's hand and greeting his gaze without batting an eye. "Sure."

Damn kids and their willingness to be nice to strangers, Y/N grumbled in her head.

"I know... your auntie is an important person to you, right?" Spencer inquired, walking up the driveway with his hands in his front pockets. Y/N swallowed, most certainly not noticing how the sun perfectly highlighted him in a glow that made him look more beautiful than stupid.

Piper nodded.

"Well... She's important to me, too. And I really hurt her feelings, but I want to make it up to her. Would you be kind enough to let me try?"

Damn him, Y/N grumbled yet again. Damn him, damn him, damn him to hell... Why was he so charming?

He'd always known that kids were a soft spot for her, and when they'd dated, they talked a lot about having some of their own one day. Every time they took a walk in the park and they passed a kid, they always gravitated to Spencer, giving him the biggest smiles, and in turn he would give them a high five or perform a little magic trick to make them smile even wider. And Y/N melted into a damn puddle every time.

He knew exactly what he was doing, using Piper as a means to win her back, but even still, she knew that because of his gentle nature, most of it was... well, nature. Deep down, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that he was a kind person. They may have ended things on bad terms, sure, and Y/N could pretend he was cruel all she wanted— The truth was that no matter how their relationship ended, he was a good man at heart.

And that's why it hurt so much.

Y/N thought for sure Piper would fall into his web, but she was pleasantly surprised when the girl responded with, "I don't know... I don't know if I trust you yet."

You and me both, Kiddo, Y/N thought to herself.

Spencer laughed again. "That's fair. Look, you can say no, but... How about I give you something in return?"

"Spencer, that's no—"

Piper crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, interrupting Y/N before she could finish protesting. "How much we talking?"

"Piper!"

"Well, I was going to offer to show you a magic trick, but I suppose I could work you a deal... I only have a hundred bucks on me, would that be enough?"

Sure enough, Spencer pulled a one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket, and the young girl's eyes went wide. Y/N's did, too, but more likely than not it wasn't a means of excitement.

"You have yourself a deal!" Piper squealed with a jump. She ran over to take the money, meanwhile Spencer looked up at Y/N with a smile.

She didn't return it.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked softly. Kindly.

"Well, I'm babysitting Piper today, so you'll have to come back another time," she returned a little coldly, hoping that she and Piper had just scored a free Benjamin to pig out on ice cream while Spencer was left waiting forever for a conversation that was never going to happen.

Funny how eight-year-olds always had a way of making things more difficult for you.

"Auntie, Spencer and I made a deal. He gave me money, and now he has to make it up to you. Remember?"

Y/N groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I remember..."

"Well, how about I... take you guys out for lunch? My treat? If it's alright, we can go to McDonald's..."

"The one with the play place?" Piper gasped, immediately turning to Y/N. "Oh, Auntie, please can we go? Please, please, please?"

She looked up at Spencer, shaking her head in exasperation as he smiled at her, those sparkling honey eyes reeling her in whether she wanted them to or not. Then she turned to Piper and sighed.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

***

Y/N was surprised Spencer didn't try to talk to her more on the drive over. Though, Piper did most of the talking, telling Spencer about how much she loved numbers and math, and he even quizzed her on some multiplication equations on the way.

If she wasn't so annoyed with him, Y/N would have melted completely.

It was the getting into the restaurant that worried her the most, though. She knew that once Piper ran off to play while they waited for their food, he would spend whatever short amount of time he had trying to win her back. And she was afraid of two things, mostly that she would end up crying in the restaurant, making a scene and wishing she'd never agreed to go, no matter how heart-broken Piper might have been. But there was also a small part of her, nestled deep into her heart, that was afraid she'd fall for him all over again.

He certainly made falling easy.

When the three of them stepped into the restaurant, it was easy to see how excited Piper was to be there. She gently tugged on Y/N's sleeve before looking up at her. "Nuggets, fries, and Sprite?"

"Apples, too, and you've got yourself a deal," Y/N said.

Piper nodded, not really caring but eager to go and play. So she sighed and nodded, leaving her with a, "Be careful!" as she saw the girl quick-walk over to the play area. There was a decent crowd that day, but thankfully no one in the restaurant seemed to have any grievances or knacks for trouble.

Spencer on the other hand... Y/N scoffed to herself, thinking how he was the most troublesome person in the area.

He proved her point by nudging her with his elbow. "She's a fun one."

"Yeah, she's somethin' alright," Y/N grumbled. "I can't believe you bribed her just to talk to me... If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were being romantic. But I do know better, and you're just stubborn."

Spencer laughed, but she refused to look at him. "Aw, come on, give me some credit. You know I can be a little of both."

This time Y/N did look at him, squinting in a glare, like she was contemplating. "Eh... five to ninety-five. Leaning in favor of stubborn, of course."

"Obviously." The amusement in his voice made her hate his stupid, beautiful face even more than usual.

Thankfully he kept the conversation short after that, at least until they ordered. Since it was Spencer's treat, she milked his wallet for as much as she could afford to on fast-food. She ordered a large chocolate milkshake and enough food for her and Piper to share for dinner later— and probably lunch the next day, too. The amused chuckle Spencer let out as she was ordering did have her believing maybe she was being a bit childish. But the longer she thought about it, the more she stood by her actions.

He did break her heart after all. The least he could do was compensate through chicken nuggets and French fries.

The only thing she didn't count on, though, was how long it was going to take to make all her food, not to mention getting things done for other people. As she and Spencer made their way to the table, she realized she'd have to talk with him longer.

Spencer took advantage of this, naturally.

"So... How've you been?"

Y/N scoffed. "You show up out of the blue five years after you break up with me, and then have the nerve to ask me how I've been, in a McDonald's? Yeah, I've been great."

He sighed, his eyes flitting down to the table. "I know, I'm... I'm sorry. And I know I should have—"

"Spence, please don't... Look, I know... I know why we broke up, and I came to terms with the fact that your job was just to dangerous for us to be together, but... I mean, you weren't even willing to work it out, you just... ran away. That hurt."

"Y/N... I'm so, so sorry that it happened that way. I think about it almost every day and how much I wish I could have changed it..."

"But you can't change it. And now you... you show up here after all this time to—to what? Win me back? Use your kindness and your charm to reel me back in, like that'll somehow make everything better?"

He looked up at her through his eyelashes, the sight almost breaking her. "Maybe..."

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, Spence, because I do... I've dreamt about the day you'd come back and apologize, begging me to take you back... But I can't get hurt again. And you have to understand that."

"I do... Just..." His hands reached out across the table, gently touching hers. The feeling sparked something in her, something nostalgic and warm...

Something that felt a lot like home.

He was going to continue his speech, but a knock on the glass separating them from the playroom on the other side jolted them apart. It was Piper, a stern look on her face. "Don't try anything, Mister... You're still on thin ice."

She turned away then, running back to the slide when Spencer sighed. "I thought we had a deal."

Y/N laughed, nodding at Piper through the glass. "Even a hundred bucks and free food isn't enough to win someone's trust." Spencer looked over at her and waited, visibly swallowing. But Y/N flashed the smallest of smiles before finishing, speaking quietly, yet with all the truth and firmness in the world. "You have to work harder than that."

"Duly noted," Spencer replied, his gaze never straying from hers. "Looks like me and my stupid, beautiful face have some work to do."

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair as Spencer grinned like a fool... A stupid, beautiful fool. "Oh, alright... You know what... If you weren't paying for my mountains of food and giving me a ride home, that thin ice you're on would have just shattered under the weight of that comment."

"Oh, come on, it was funny."

"No, it really wasn't."

"Yeah, it was."

He stared at her, smiling until her forced frown slowly and reluctantly transformed into a smile of her own.

***

"Thank you for lunch, Spencer! And for the hundred dollars!" Piper skipped past him and up the driveway, stopping to turn and wave with her Happy Meal toy in hand. Y/N was carrying a bag of leftover food and half a milkshake, her stomach already regretting every choice she'd ever made.

"You're welcome, Piper," Spencer said, smiling at the girl. "And thank you for letting me get a chance to set things right with your auntie. You really helped me out today, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Just don't break her heart again, or I'll break your stupid, beautiful face. It'll turn into a stupid, ugly face then."

Y/N mentally face-palmed herself, turning to Piper and telling her to go inside and wash up. The girl gave Spencer one final wave and a smile as she did so, leaving the adults alone once again.

"Thank you..." he said quietly, shifting on his feet. "For giving me a chance. I really want to make things right with us... Make up for the way I hurt you, and... try harder. You deserve that much."

Years of heartache and trying to get over him begged Y/N not to believe it, but deep down she knew he was being truthful. He wasn't the type of guy to come around like this—especially with all the work travel he did—just to manipulate her into heartache again, with empty promises and hurtful intent.

She knew he was really willing to try to make things right, and that was a big start.

"Thank you... for saying that... And for making Piper's day. I know you didn't really mean to bribe her, but the fact that you did it anyway is absurd, so... I guess I have to give credit where credit's due."

Spencer laughed, and this time Y/N didn't hate the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at the sound. "Well, I'm glad I could at least amuse you today. Does... this mean my romantic to stubborn ratio shifted a little bit?"

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Hmm... twenty to eighty."

"Still leaning in favor of stubborn, I suppose..."

The smile they shared in that moment felt more like the ones they used to share back then, officially kickstarting the slow, meticulous mending of their love.

"Obviously."

***

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444tsumu · 3 years

Note

HAPPY 100 MARS!!!/&/&: AHHH! okay so i’d love a tier three if you didn’t mind! i wanted to know which 3 characters would smoke ouid and what you think smoking with them would be like? ily tysm!

▭ WHICH CHARACTERS SMOKE WEED?

includes matsukawa, hanamaki, suna

warnings drug use, explicit content, doing things under the influence, implied sexual content, slight nsfw.

authors note lol ik some people don’t like the whole “w*ed” and dr*g use hc but it’s all fiction and based on my own personal opinion (: i don’t mean to offend anyone lol i smoke too <3

This is a long one, beware <3 also it’s also my dream blunt rotation LMAO

𖥻 MATSUKAWA, ISSEI !

definitely the philosophical stoner

always has a question or an answer

depends on how much he’s smoked though

eyes get really red and he looks really hot

prefers backwoods over regular papers

always smoked regular papers though bc woods are bad for you (:

does that thing where they lick the paper and look at you at the same time

the hottest man smoking ever god please

always makes sure to have you sitting on his left so that he passes it to you first

loves smoking people out

doesn’t really care if you put in money or not

if issei is around, everyone is getting high

smokes makki’s unemployed ass out like everyday lmao

loves to hotbox

lights you up for the first time and tries to get you into another galaxy

“if you’re gonna get high, at least do it right”

definitely funny as fuck when he’s high

always definitely ready to fuck

very touchy when he’s high

will hold on to you for a long time and forget he’s doing it

but if you make him let go he genuinely feels the skin contact nearly rip off

calm down mattsun your possessiveness is showing

tries to explain all the different types to you but forgets mid sentence

literally cannot formulate a single structured thought

definitely leans in to make out with you more than once

loves shotgunning with you

already lazy but when he’s zooted he’s UNBEARABLE

he really does wanna fuck but ends up smoking too much with you because you played chicago and forgot

doesn’t really get hungry for food but munchies?

ate all of the snacks

has no remorse for his actions either

stares into the deep nothing for like 10 minutes

just to snap out of it and look around suspiciously

“do you guys hear that….?”

“…..no?”

“………..the paint is screaming at me?”

ok buddy don’t ruin this for everyone else

knows how to french & ghost inhale

has argued with makki many times over the earth being flat

doesn’t really think it’s flat

ends up believing it is after makki told him the world was actually dome shaped

has a grinder shaped like a dragon ball

not a peer pressuring kinda guy but thinks everyone should get high at least once

definitely gets iwa and oikawa to try

loves getting oikawa high cause he thinks the guy is fucking hilarious

laughs at everything

just a great guy, especially when he starts smoking

falls into a weed coma and doesn’t wake up for like 3 days though

treats it like it’s a regular hangover

definitely falls asleep with his entire body on top of you and no remorse for the weight

says “i’m fried” and isn’t embarrassed about it for whatever reason

he’s hot so no one judges him

𖥻 HANAMAKI, TAKAHIRO !

definitely a comedian when he’s high

always the funniest guy in the room

when him and mattsun are together though?

undefeated

him and issei both smoked for the first time together

after that though?

they became unstoppable

don’t get me started with after volleyball season ended

prefers bongs because he thinks he looks cooler lmao

everyone assumes makki is high but they don’t know he actually gets high

offers to smoke you out cause you’re hot lmao

makes fun of you when you cough

even though he still coughs

hates hotboxing because he can’t handle it

but refuses to pussy out so he’s always the first one to agree

in his own words

“my mother didn’t raise no bitch”

makki please

ideal smoking partner

is one of those people that fuck the passing rotation up because he refuses to pass it to anyone but you

secretly does it because he doesn’t want anyone else’s lips touching yours

prefers to smoke with just his close friends but doesn’t mind a session

doesn’t like shotgunning cause he starts thinking his breath smells bad

gives in anyways because he doesn’t want you doing it with anyone else

loves when you put your legs on him

the pressure gives him chills

makes jokes 24/7 because he likes hearing you laugh

can’t french inhale but mattsun taught him how to ghost inhale and he hasn’t stopped since

takes videos of himself cause he thinks he looks cool

realizes he looks like a fucking idiot but fuck it we ball

falls into a weed coma with his head on your lap and his phone unlocked and still on

does that thing where he lights it up with it in his mouth and looks really fucking hot while doing so

has a breaking bad rick & morty rolling tray and is really proud of it

gets really into music when he’s high

will sing along to all the songs while he’s packing the bong

as i repeat

looks hot while doing so

definitely a hungry high

orders food before you even get to ask

“makki, want some snacks?”

“oh nah it’s cool, i already ordered mcdonald’s”

“????? we just finished smoking????”

prefers smoking over drinking but will do both when he wants to go big or go home

eyes get really low

talks kinda slow but really deep and it’s fucking hot

laughs by throwing his head back and it’s really cute

gets cold when he’s high

it doesn’t matter the season

he gets fucking cold and it makes no sense

so he’ll need your body heat to warm himself up (;

𖥻 SUNA, RINTAROU !

a confused high

no doubt about it

this man never knows what the fuck is going on

ik everyone complains about the stoner!suna hc

but i think it’s fucking hot lmao

always has like 2 blunts rolled and on him at all times

is one of those people that will use any excuse to do it

“……(sighs) i’m gonna go take a smoke break.”

“suna we just got here??”

“exactly”

likes joints and edibles the best

not much of a hungry high or munchie high

but he hyperfixates on a certain food and will eat it until there is nothing left

ate an entire pack of gum in one sitting before

definitely watches cartoons the minute he starts to feel the buzz

rarely talks unless to pass it to you or make a single joke that has you about to pee yourself

he doesn’t say much but when he does?

the man leaves an impact

hates smoking with other people

doesn’t like when they fuck his blunt/joint up

hates smoking joints rolled by other people unless he watches them do it

always complains when you ask to smoke with him but secretly loves it

shotguns with you and acts like nothing just happened

hello sir how dare you make me fall inlove like that

forgets everything so don’t try to say anything important to him

zones out because he’s too busy imagining fucking

but then forgets about fucking and starts thinking about what’s on the tv

can’t hold a conversation but will go in-depth as to why spongebob squarepants was more than just a sponge

“no you need to listen to me, patrick star is much more than just his best friend—”

“….rin what the fuck are you talking about?”

“you’re asking me like i know? pass the blunt.”

definitely got into smoking in high school but didn’t actually do it like that until college

lies on his drug tests lmao

smokes after every win as a celebration and smokes after ever loss as a reliever

lmao seek help sir

definitely tries to get you to take your shirt off when he’s in the moment

swears it’s because he’s doing you a favor but really just loves how you look in his clothes when he’s high

doesn’t really know when to stop because he’s never greened out before

all his supplies is a simple shade of black

he’s a simple man

can do all the smoke tricks

but won’t do it in front of anyone cause he hates when people point it out

likes hotboxing because it gets him higher faster

is actually friends with the guy he gets weed from lmao

his perfect date with you was that one time you guys stood home and did nothing but smoke and watch family guy

tears up every time he thinks about it

has a picture of himself with two blunts in his mouth and his eyes really red and it’s really fucking hot

giggles even though he tries not to

uses pens when he can’t physically have weed on him

doesn’t really like it because the pen high makes him knock out after a few pulls

once rin falls into a weed coma???

don’t even think about trying to contact him cause that man might as well be dead

doesn’t wake up to save his own damn life

you can smack him and the most he’d do is probably groan and turn his head lmao

211 notes · View notes

poppunkporco · 3 years

Text

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader fic)

the one where you walked me home (porco x reader)

contents: porco x fem reader, mentions of marcel galliard, childhood friends, best friends to lovers, fluff, pining, alternate universe - college/university, modern au, bisexuality, smoking, porco galliard-centric

rating: teen and up audiences

summary: When he walks her home that night, Porco realizes he might have feelings for his childhood best friend. He has no idea in hell how to deal with it but he tries.

word count: 5079

notes: i just thought it'd be interesting to try writing a modern au porco/reader fic in a more porco-centric POV. what i try to do here is explore how he deals with the soft sappy feelings of slowly realizing he's in love since he's pretty bad at emotions and even more so when it's not a [strong, violent type of feeling]

*fic loosely based on this song:

*this is also cross-posted on ao3

***

2:40 AM at an empty parking lot behind a 7-Eleven. The nearest lamp post flickers weakly with its dimming orange light as Porco sets down his third empty beer can on the concrete with a yawn.

“Hey,” he says, lightly shrugging the shoulder against which she leaned her head on. She doesn’t budge from beside him. He rubs the lethargy off his eyes.

They’ve been sitting on this parking block for almost three hours now-- since they left the gig hours ago at the pub just across the university. They’d just spent the past few hours ranting about midterms and how fucked up alienated labor is along with the absence of ethical consumption under capitalism-- and how everyone is forced to participate in it, talking about trips they’d like to make in and outside the city, their ideal lovers, and anxieties about the future. This was a thing they did now and then, usually on Fridays and Saturdays-- seeking a kind of cathartic escape from their hectic academic life in each other’s company. A friendly rendezvous they’d jokingly call dates every now and then.

He leans forward just enough to get a peek at her face, partly obscured by the mess of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

So she’s asleep.

His eyes dart towards their things lumped together beside her feet-- their backpacks sitting atop an A4-size sketchbook along with the last unopened beer can.

Porco idly clinks his finger against the top of the beer can he had just emptied as he breathes out a wistful sigh.

Somehow, she always reminded him of his long-gone brother. Not to say that she shared even a bit of Marcel's fairly easygoing yet charming demeanor. Because she was far from that. She was loud with a crude mouth-- more like Porco himself, really-- except that she at least was kinder, more pleasantly charismatic towards other people than himself. And in that way, yes, she did remind him of Marcel. But there were other things-- pastimes and memories that reminded him of his brother when she came to mind. They’d known each other even as kids. Back in middle school, Porco remembers how she’d visit their home on the weekends so the three of them could build a Lego city which Marcel himself had drafted on the back of one of his sketchbooks. Those two were always quite the artists even as kids-- Porco recalls fondly. His brother had been the one to introduce her to Porco during one of those weekends. He didn’t like it at first-- how Marcel would seem to pay more attention to her at times as they animatedly sketched parts of the city on paper in the middle of assembling the Lego blocks. He’d eventually learned to be tolerant of her presence at least as the weekends passed by and the city gradually came to life-- vast with skyscrapers, houses, trees, vehicles, and lamp posts. Porco distinctly remembers building a garden with her beside a house that resembled the Galliard residence. He had assembled the green pieces that resembled leaf blades onto the flat Lego board, while she topped them off with tiny colorful flower pieces. It was honestly quite fun and it became a thing he eventually looked forward to on the weekends with Marcel.

But all things come to an end and at times, at points where they feel like they’re not supposed to. Porco knows this well.

In Marcel’s old room, the city remains hidden away, unfinished.

It was on a rainy day when Marcel had met an accident on his way home with a schoolmate. Onlookers had witnessed him racing against the red light to push Reiner away from the path of an incoming vehicle.

Even if it was an accident, Porco despises Reiner after that. He'd decided to never talk to him after the incident but as fate would ridiculously have it, they’d meet again in high school-- as classmates, nonetheless, to his dismay.

It was after this same incident that Porco had grown closer to her-- the only other person who possibly knew Marcel almost nearly as he himself did. She knew about the city and she knew about his sketches, after all. In the first few days after his brother’s wake, they’d simply talk about Marcel as they walked home together after school and how they both missed him. Those walks home would eventually involve detours at the nearest Mcdonald’s where they’d get nuggets and buy a Happy Meal-- the ones that came in flimsy cardboard packaging printed with colorful cartoon mascots-- for the sake of getting the collectibles that came with them. It was a thing they never really grew out of. Even now, as college kids, whenever they’d find themselves eating out together at the nearest Mcdonald’s after their Philosophy classes scheduled on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they’d get themselves a Happy Meal, even if they sometimes earned puzzled looks from the cashier as they engaged in quick, petty quarrels as to which collectible they should get.

Soon, Porco feels her shuffle in her seat beside him, the weight of her head now off his shoulder. She rubs the sleep off her eyes with a yawn.

“...should go home,” she drawls, accidentally kicking one of the empty beer cans sprawled in front of them on the concrete. It lands right at the feet of a passer-by who in turn shoots her a cold glare before kicking the can back in her direction. "I-- hey, uh, sorry about that," she apologizes, louder than necessary. Said passer-by only clicks their tongue in annoyance as they raised a middle finger at her before walking away with a muffled swear under their breath.

She exchanges incredulous, befuddled looks with Porco for a few silent moments before eventually letting out a snort and bursting into a fit of stupidly drunken laughter with him.

“...is what I mean… fucking capitalism... makesnasshole out ofveryone,” she remarks, broken phrases drawn out in between chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I got it for the tenth time,” Porco says, laughing with a roll of his eyes. He stands up and stretches out a hand in front of her. “Now can we go home? Can’t exactly start a revolution when the alcohol’s fucked you up that bad,” he says with an impatient sigh.

“Yeah? How do you know? Did Karl Marx write that?” She languidly takes his hand.

“No, but-- fucking… well, I don’t know. Maybe? Indirectly? I mean, we did just give in to consumerism,” Porco says with a sharp click of his tongue as he pulls her up to stand.

“Well… yeah. I guess so.”

“Anyway.” Porco places a palm at the top of her head and urges her to face him. “You seem more out of it than me. I’m walking you home this time, alright?

”She shrugs languidly. “Sure, whatever,” she says, her words muffled as she falls face first into his chest.

“Give me the fucking keys,” he says coarsely after her third failed attempt at unlocking the door to her own flat. In the dim light of the hall, Porco tries to make out the shape of what he recognizes as the right one among the five keys dangling from her keychain. He sighs, frustrated as he finally unlocks the door.

“How the hell did you--?” Confused, she eyes the keys still dangling from the door. “Why wouldn’t it open when it was me?”

“For the love of--” Porco runs a palm down across his face with an exasperated sigh. “You were forcing the wrong key.”

“Oh.” She snorts trying to stifle a chuckle. Porco pulls the keys from the door and hands them to her along with the sketchbook he’d been carrying.

“Thanks.” She gives the door a light push before finally taking a step into the flat. And then a sudden stop. She pockets her keys and lets the sketchbook fall on the carpeted floor of the foyer. She tilts her head pensively for a few moments, staring blankly at the darkness of her room. Porco raises an eyebrow in confusion. She turns on her heel to face him again.

“What is it?” he asks.

She stands on the tips of her toes, eyeing Porco with what felt to him like newfound curiosity. She rests a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

Her other hand soon reaches up to cradle the side of his face. It comes as a surprise, but not the kind that made you flinch or visibly react in some way. This was simply… unexpected. Weird. And somehow new.

She’s looking at me. And she’s looking like she’s waiting.

And what is she waiting for, exactly? He feels a nervous lump in his throat, swallows it down. He has half the mind to lean his face closer as he, too, looks at her-- and he looks at her like he’s waiting.

Alas, whatever this is-- it ends where it feels like it’s not supposed to.

“‘Night, Porco,” she says with a feeble smile before falling back flatly on her feet.

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” he says, tentatively glancing at his side.She crouches down to lazily pick up the sketchbook before finally entering her flat again. Porco catches her giving him a tiny wave through the crack of the door moments before she completely pushes it closed. He bids her goodbye with a curt nod.

Once the door closes, he rolls up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time.

3:15 AM. Porco raises a palm to his cheek. The ghost of her touch lingers on his skin.

***

“Are you serious?” Porco scoffs. “Y/N, you’re not even watching the film.” He leans his head against his palm with his arm resting on the side of the couch.

“Sure I am,” she says, unpinning her hair before letting her head fall on his lap. As she types out a message on her phone, Porco manages to make out Pieck’s name at the top of the chat box.

“You keep checking your phone.”

“It’s fine. We’ve both seen this film before anyway. I told you-- I’m just rewatching it for my paper on Nietzsche.”

“So you dragged me into this for what?”

She gives a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know. Felt like it. Just wanted to bother you for a good film.” She finally sets aside her phone to look up at Porco with a shit-eating grin. He sighs and flicks a finger against her forehead. “Ow. What the fuck.”

“At least try to look like you’re actually watching,” Porco says, turning her head to face the TV screen.

"Fine, fine," she says with a grimace as she kneads the pain away on her forehead.

They’re now about an hour into Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. As lovers Joel and Clementine ran through the memories-- hand in hand mapping the history of their relationship-- the ups and downs-- scenes of the two playfully mocking the film at a drive-in theater, a stroll through the flea market leading into talks of having a child, lovemaking underneath the covers as Clementine told Joel about her insecurities rooting from childhood-- all these small intimacies that nonetheless revealed to each other their flawed, detestable selves along with reasons they probably shouldn’t be together, Porco realizes it.

He looks at her, notes the way the flicker of the TV screen daintily lit up her solemn face and how she’d break into a smile every now and then. She’d brush the back of her hand against his knee and point at the TV screen to tell him that this was among her favorite parts so he absolutely had to pay close attention. A bit funny considering she was the one who wasn’t paying much attention to the film during the first part, Porco thinks. At least she’s watching now, even as he can’t help but watch her instead.

As he absentmindedly brushes a hand against her hair, he wonders if they could be something more, wonders if they’d be anything like Joel and Clementine-- imperfect, but nonetheless worthwhile. They’d known each other since they were kids and he can definitely make a list of things he doesn’t like about her-- like the way she’s too loud and frisky and never seemed to take the right things seriously, how scatterbrained she was that she’d forget the schedule for a midterm exam and how her room always seemed to be in shambles, the way she was so stubborn she’d easily get upset at something as simple as choosing to eat at a fast food different from the one she insisted on, how she’d smoke in his dorm no matter how many times he’d told her that she could get him in trouble for it. But it's not like he's perfect either. She’d told him that he came on too headstrong at times and that’s why a lot of people felt intimidated by him-- a trait that had gotten him into fights and eventually, long afternoons of detention back in high school. She says she hates the way he thought himself too strong to cry in front of anyone and how he’d grown dismissive of opening up to her as they got older. Whenever they’d get into heated fights, she’d tell him that all you ever are is angry and how he was pretty shit at saying sorry like he meant it. And despite all of these, they had remained close friends over the years. They’d promised each other that they’d get better-- slowly, but surely-- even if that was something easier said than done. He could live with that. He would.

***

“Hey, uh--” Porco breathes out a puff of smoke as he hands her the cigarette. He gazes distantly at the parade of city lights before them-- from the headlamps of the vehicles passing below them on the bridge, the streetlights, and the buildings overhead. “--do you still like Pieck?”

She suddenly lets out a cough and a puff of smoke at that. She gapes at Porco incredulously.

“Pock, it’s been three years since we broke up. And that was high school.”

“Look, I know that, but--” he sighs. “I was just wondering.”

She laughs. “That’s not really what you wanted to ask, is it? There’s something else.” She raises an eyebrow at Porco. He rolls his eyes at that, irked at how easily she could read him. “So ask.” She passes him the cigarette and he takes a drag of it.

“Ok--” he says with a sigh. “--Have you liked any other girls after her?”

She raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“No, not really. Nothing serious, at least. I mean, I did have a crush on this girl who sat beside me in English class during freshman year. But... that was freshman year, you know? Nothing ever really came of it. And you know I would have told you if something actually did, anyway."

“I see.”

“There’s more you want to ask,” she says with a cheeky smile.

“Ok. Fine.” Another drag of the cigarette. “How about-- boys? Have you liked any guy at all since then?” The city lights blur against the filter of smoke. Porco refuses to meet her eyes even as he feels her gaze on him-- heavy with something he could not exactly put his finger on. He knows she’s not smiling anymore and from his periphery, he thinks he senses a swallow in her throat. She turns to the city overhead.

“Yes, actually.” She takes the cigarette from him, smiling fondly upon the light brush of their fingers. “I-- you know, even though I’ve known for a long time that I liked both guys and girls, I still find myself doubting that sometimes. When I’m attracted to a girl, I sometimes think that maybe I was just gay all along. And now that I find myself actually liking a boy again, a part of me entertains the thought that maybe me liking girls was just a phase and maybe I was straight all along. But... I just know it’s not like that. And yet, what people say still gets to me-- they’ve got a way of making you think that being bi isn’t a real thing. Even though it is. I know because... I’m real, right?”

“Yeah. You are. You’re… you’re here.” The corner of his lips turn up as he says it. “I get it. I mean, I think I’m the same.”

“Really?” She turns to gape at him.

“I suppose I’ve never told you this either because it’s so fucking embarrassing, but…” He sighs defeatedly, kneading his temples with unease. “...I made out with Reiner in high school.”

She regards him with a scandalized look.

“Dude, what the fuck. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I do, alright? It’s just that… teenage hormones and shit. I was stupid and he’s stupid. I-- I don’t know what I was thinking that time. But… I do wonder sometimes--” He scratches his head tentatively. “--what my brother was thinking rushing in to save him from that accident. Like… just what did he see in that meathead that was worth saving?”

“And did you find your answer to that when you were making out?”

Porco eyes her with a deathly glare.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, so you did,” she says with an impish grin.

Porco flicks a finger against her forehead.

“Ow-- hey! Stop that,” she says with a grimace. “I mean, I don’t blame you. Reiner’s hot.”

He clicks his tongue at the remark before hastily seizing the cigarette from her grasp to take another drag. "Not like he's the only guy I ever found ho-- I mean liked."

She laughs.

"We should head back," he says coldly.

"Sure.” She nods. “Though… is there anything else you wanted to ask?"

As the filter of smoke hangs between them, Porco wonders about the boy she likes.

He shakes his head. "No. It's nothing."

***

“It was like deja vu,” Porco says, sighing into his phone as he shifts to lie near the edge of his bed. “Except in this dream… before she said goodnight, we, uh--”

“You kissed?” Pieck suggests from the other line.

“Well… yeah.” He puts a palm to cover his face, feeling the flush on his cheeks as he says it.

“So you like her,” Pieck says, almost breaking into a chuckle.

“I, uh…”

“I get it. She’s charming and reminds you of Marcel.”

“That’s…”

“I’ll be honest with you.” She sighs and Porco senses a smile from her tone. “Remember when I said I broke up with her because uni was getting too busy? The truth is that… I feel like you two always seemed to get along better than I ever could with her-- and it probably has to do with Marcel. When I realized that, I’ll admit I did start to feel jealous. I thought back then that you two might eventually get together. After all, you two were both still in high school, while I was already away in uni. It left me distraught for months so I just... decided to break it off. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s been years and it’s not like I haven’t dated anyone else since then. And in hindsight, that just might have been for the best. I mean, you confiding in me about her right now-- I think-- is a testament to that. Because you realized it too, didn’t you?”

“Oh." He pauses. "I never thought that you-- Pieck, look, I--”

“Pock, if you feel guilty about it just because I used to date her, don’t. It’s not anyone’s fault. That… that she just loved you first. It’s circumstance. She met you and Marcel first before me.”

That she loved you first. As Porco echoes the words in his head, he becomes acutely aware of the beating in his chest and the warmth swarming his face. He buries his face in a pillow and screams into it.

“Hey, Pock? You ok there?” Pieck chuckles.

“How do I-- you think I should tell her?”

“Well, it’s the honest thing to do. And I genuinely think you don’t stand to lose much by doing so. Even if by the littlest chance of her not returning your feelings, I don’t think confessing would ruin your friendship. Might be a little awkward at first, but I don’t think she’ll end up hating or avoiding you at all.”

“You sure you’re not just sayi--”

“No, Pock. I’m not just saying this because we’re friends. I’m saying it because it’s what makes sense.”

“Ok, well… thanks,” he sighs. “And by the way… I’m sorry I called you this early. I know you’re probably busy especially since it’s your thesis year.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you told me. Frankly, I do find satisfaction in knowing my speculations are correct. And you guys… you two are more predictable than you think-- if I’m being honest,” Pieck laughs.

“Well, I suppose being predictable isn’t so bad… if you’re right.”

Once they bid each other goodbye on the phone, Porco remains sprawled across the bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He rests a palm on his cheek, internally cursing Marcel as he feels the warmth streaming his face once again.

***

“Fuck,” Porco swears under his breath as they both ran towards the car, their feet splashing against the puddled ground as the rain cascades. A looming thunder rolls across the night sky as they make it to the safety of the vehicle.

“So… still not convinced that trying to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday at midnight was a bad idea?” Porco says, trying to catch his breath as he sets down the paper bag on the space between their seats.

“Well, I’ll admit it kinda sucked that you had to have your car still parked in school. And in my defense, I didn't expect the drizzle to cascade so soon on the way back. But you know what? It’s fine. We got what we needed and that’s all that matters. I’ll stand by this being a good idea.” She laughs as she peels off her drenched jacket. “Oh, by the way, where can I put this?”

“Just put it in the backseat,” Porco says as he peeled off his own jacket.

“Got it. Here, give me yours too,” she says before turning to place both of their drenched jackets in the backseat.

“Thanks.” Porco switches on the car’s dome light and the windshield wipers. The car’s interior now warmly lit, he rummages inside the paper bag, then hands her a box of chicken nuggets along with a plastic fork. “You want the fries now or later?”

“Later’s good. Thanks.” Porco acknowledges her with a nod, then leans back on the car seat with a languished sigh.

The rain patters incessantly against the windows over the rhythm of the windshield wipers. The faint yellow glow lulls from the ceiling of his car. He recalls a rainy evening spent staring out the window as he nervously waited for Marcel to come home. A distant memory weighs heavy on his eyelids.

“Porco. Are you ok?”

“What? Yeah.” Porco shifts lightly in his seat, slightly startled. “I just… remembered something.”

“What is it?”

“The rain. It just reminded me of Marcel.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, he was…” She puts down her food and lightly wipes the sides of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Back then, I considered him as something a little more than a best friend. I like that he liked my drawings and how he never made fun of them… even though he was ways better than me at it,” she recalls fondly.

He scoffs. “So… are you guilt-tripping me for something I said about your drawings when we were twelve?”

“You were an asshole, but you should be glad I’m past that.” She rolls her eyes with a sigh. “All I’m saying now is that Marcel was... really special to me.”

“What-- did you have a crush on Marcel or something?”

She snorts. “You could say... it was something like that. Yeah.”

Figures. He nonchalantly crosses his arms in front of his chest. The pattering rain fills in the lull in their conversation.

“I like your drawings too,” he finally says.

“That’s why I drag you along every time I go out to draw. You like watching me, right?” She teasingly raises an eyebrow as she says it.

“Well, sure.” He shrugs awkwardly in his seat.

“Tell me. What else do you like?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see…” he sighs, feigning annoyance with a roll of his eyes. “I like it when I’m in the middle of pulling an all-nighter at Tim Hortons… and you go on and disturb me just to get a Happy Meal on a rainy Friday midnight.”

“Yeah?” she chuckles. “What else?”

Porco turns to glance at her. As she meets him with a playful grin, his mind races with answers.

I like it when you steal my jacket and you leave me to freeze to death in the cold of the cafe’s AC. I like it when you go on a chaotic, semi-coherent drunken rant about how badly you want capitalism dismantled. I like it when you remember Marcel. I like your hair. I like how your hands unpin your hair before you rest your head on my lap.

He scoffs-- more in reaction to his own thoughts than at her teasing. Who knew he could be that embarrassingly sappy? “What are you… getting at?”

“Nevermind.” She shakes her head, still smiling. She laughs while timidly raising a palm to her cheek. “Can we share your fries now?”

***

“So I’m thinking of getting a tattoo,” Porco says, settling himself on the dormitory steps faintly lit by the porch lights hanging on both sides of the entrance.

“Cool. So where do you want it?” She sits beside him while setting down her things-- a shoulder bag and a sketchbook on the concrete step.

“I was just thinking on my arm,” he says, pointing a finger at a spot on his skin.

“What do you want it to look like?”

“Not sure yet.”

“I could draw you one.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure. I could do it right now.”

“Really?”

She takes the ballpoint pen out of the spring of her sketchbook and begins to doodle something on his arm. Covering her drawing with a cupped palm, she chuckles while mischievously peering up at him.

“I swear to god, if you’re drawing something embarrassing-- Oh, fuck you.” Porco laughs, managing to take a peek at the ink drawing of a cartoon porcupine with the hair on its head stylishly pushed back. Below the drawing, it writes 'porcopine.' He pulls his arm away from her grasp.

"What? You don't like it?" She grimaces.

"Porcopine? Really?"

“What? It's cute,” she says with an offended click of her tongue, reaching for his arm once again.

Below the word 'porcopine,' she then writes the phrase 'i <3 you.'

Porco furrows his brows upon reading the phrase, then lets out a chuckle. “What does this--?” he asks, pointing out the inked words on his skin.

“What do you mean? It is what it is.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

“How do you mean it?”

She tilts her head pensively and squints at Porco as she gathers how to describe exactly what she meant. She supposes that he’s right-- a clarification was indeed necessary. This kind of thing could get confusing, after all. When you’ve known each other for so long in a relationship such as this, lines tend to blur. One day, you could both feel like the bestest of friends, and then like lovers the next.

“I mean it in a way that I wouldn’t mind marrying you.”

“Oh.” Porco gapes at her for a moment. “Ok,” he says, letting out an awkward chuckle.

“What’s with that reaction? I’m serious, Pock.”

“I just… I mean, to be honest…” He furrows his brows, carefully pondering his words. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you either.” Porco scratches his head sheepishly.

“Ok then,” she chuckles, shifting in her seat to face him. “We could build something. Something bigger than a Lego house. Maybe one with a garden. A story with a perfect ending.”

“Yeah? And if it’s not perfect, what then?”

“Something worthwhile, then. An ending that feels like an ending.”

“Ok. I can live with that,” he laughs.

“Porco.”

As she cradles his face in between her palms, Porco becomes acutely aware of the flush in his cheeks.

Then, slowly, she leans closer to gingerly place a kiss at the tip of his nose.

They soon find themselves both chuckling at what was probably the most blatantly romantic gesture between them thus far.

“So, uh, what are we now, exactly?” he asks awkwardly as they soon pull away.

She shrugs. “Lovers? Best friends who would marry each other? Though the latter is kind of a mouthful if you ask me.”

“Yeah. Let’s go with that first one.”

“Say, Porco.” She tilts her head questioningly at him. “You want to tell me how this night ends?”

“How the hell should I--”

She puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. “Hey. Lovers now, remember? I’m not the only one telling this story. So tell me.”

“Ok. Let’s see,” he sighs. And so he indulges her. “It ends with you beside me. We’re lying down on my bed.”

“Clothed or naked?”

He gapes. “Are you seriously even consi--”

She flicks a finger against his forehead as she regards him with a mischievous smile. “Just answer the question.”

“Ok, fine,” he resigns, lightly kneading his forehead. “Look, I want to say naked because my AC’s broken ri--”

“Naked it is, then.”

“Clothed.” He glares. “For tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” she says, scratching her head in resignation. “You sure you’re not having second thoughts about letting me stay tonight, though? Not worried you might wake up with a bunch of porcopines on your face? Or I don’t know-- dick drawings?”

“Fuck off,” he says with a chuckle.

“So… what is it, really? You want me to stay or you want me to go?”

Porco sighs before slowly leaning his face closer to hers.

“I want you to stay,” he says against her cheek, before placing a chaste kiss on her skin. “Whatever I wake up to in the morning, I’m sure it’s worth it.”

#porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot fanfiction

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doubleshotofsomething · 3 years

Text

To Hell & Back

Part Two: “Lucky for me, your kind of heaven’s been to hell & back”

Summary: You still hate Bucky. But you need him to keep you from going to jail... So, what’s the harm in inviting him over to dinner?

Prompt: “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Warnings: Angst?? (i think). Probably typos( which will be fixed). Implied violence.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part one [In case you missed it]

----

It's Saturday.

Your day off. Well, what used to be your day off until it was turned into a family therapy session.

Well... Not an actual therapy session. It is literally just dinner with your family, including your sister's husband - a man you refuse to identify as your brother in law for reasons that will end in you being called the j-word. The husband, because he's the only son-in-law your parents have, has been dubbed the "referee" of the Saturday Sessions.

Each session, since you've been discharged, has made committing murder seem more and more appealing.

So appealing, that you're standing in front of your neighbour's door with a basket of muffins and a please-keep-me-from-committing-felonies smile.

Bucky, because he just spent the afternoon searching for a new bar, is standing on the other side of the door. Both confused and frightened to see you at his door voluntarily.

"Is there a bomb in that basket?" He asks, eyes roaming over you suspiciously. "Believe me, it's not gonna work."

You blink at him, then at the basket. Then back at him. "Why would I put a bomb in a muffin basket and then hold it?"

He raises a sceptical eyebrow at you.

You huff. "Fine, they're poisoned. I accidentally added laxatives while making them-"

"Accidentally?"

"Yes, accidentally-" you glare at him. "-they're not for you. They're from us."

He blinks at you, confused. You haven't spoken to him, actually spoken to him, for a few months. You avoid him like he has a disease and when your paths do cross, you just glare at him like he threw your cat into on coming traffic.

It's been a few days since the coffee machine incident. He has a brand new one - better than the last one - sitting on his kitchen counter, waiting for him to develop the courage to give it to you. It should be easy. He has mastered the art of making amends.

But... He can't, for some reason, bring it to you.

"Wait-" he frowns, your words finally registering in his head, "-did you just say from us?"

You set the basket down. "So, remember when you broke my one shot at happiness?"

"Oh god." He forgot how dramatic you are, as well.

"Yeah, you can fix that little error by being a doll and-" you pause, then frown, struggling to find the right words.

"Muffin poisoned your tongue?"

"I'm trying to ask you to be my plus one for tonight's dinner-" you grit your teeth, your blood beginning to boil. "-at my parents house."

You didn't look him in the eye when you said that. And by the sounds of it, he doubts this is something he should be going to. Or something you should be going to. Not if it brings out this side of you.

"Who are the muffins for?"

They were for your sister. You broke her nose last week, which was never your intention, and the guilt has been eating you up alive since. The punch was meant for her asshole husband.

"You coming or not?"

"Let me grab a wine and the keys."

"We have muffins. No need to waste your good wine on mediocre tastes."

"I'm bringing the wine."

"If you make us stop to pick out flowers, I will watch porn with the volume on full blast every night for a week."

"Why are you always so violent?"

"So, how bad is it?" Bucky asks.

You've been in the car for a half an hour, because you chose the busiest route and the most congested during rush hour, and that's the first thing either of you have uttered since you politely dragged him out of his apartment.

You shrug. "Three roads lead to this one, so we'll be here another half hour."

"I mean the situation-" he drums his fingers against the wheel. "-you literally chose to be in a car with me, for the longest time possible. Either you want to get there late or you don't want to get there at all."

"Maybe I just like spending time with you."

Bucky scoffs, but doesn't question you further.

The car is silent, aside from the traffic outside, and you could almost relax. For just a moment, you could close your eyes and imagine you're somewhere else.

But you can't. Because you're not. You're on your way to a dinner that shouldn't be happening and is only happening because you're part of your neighbour's redemption list.

Because he just had to have a conscious.

"I punched my sister last week," you mumble.

Bucky wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He has met your sister, a handful of times - at the hospital, outside your room and outside your apartment door.

Every time she'd come over, she would knock hard enough to make him think she's part of SWAT team. And each time, he would could hear you scramble to switch off all devices that could alert her of your presence inside.

One time, you'd both arrived a few minutes after each other. His door was closer and already open, so you shoved your grocery in his hand and dived into his apartment to hide from your sister. He had to pretend he hasn't seen you since you left for work , and that the packet of sanitary pads that fell out were for his girlfriend.

He didn't have one.

He wants to laugh, because he doesn't like her at all. But he doesn't, because she's your sister. "What did she do?"

"She married an asshole-" you scoff. "-and decided to get in the way and I tried to punch said asshole."

At this, he grins. "And you need me there because?"

"I need you to keep me from trying to kill him," you begrudgingly admit. "I'm too high maintenance for prison."

"How bad is this guy that you need me to help you not kill him?"

"Bad enough that I'm gonna need you to park a few blocks away from the house," you turn to look at him, his confused eyes meeting yours for a quick second. "I told them we're taking the bus."

"Wow."

"Which means we only get to spend less than two hours there, if you drive a little slow-" you pause when he drives passed a McDonald's. "-hey, can we stop and get milkshake?"

He deadpans. "We have dinner plans with your parents."

"I get that you and them might have gotten along since you decided to be a hero," you glare at him. "But they're not as cool as the hospital visits made them seem."

Your parents have invited him over to dinner a handful of times, and each time he had to decline. You and him weren't on the best of terms, and he didn't want to make things worse by showing up for dinner without your knowledge.

He knows, first hand, that a few interactions aren't enough to give the full depth of a person. But he saw how devastated they were, how heartbroken they were, at the sight of tubes and needles sticking out of you.

He doesn't believe, he can't believe, for a second that they're as bad as you say they are.

But he won't argue with you. Not about this. "We'll get milkshake after."

"Hey, remember that coffee machine you br-"

"Oh, fuck you!"

***

You're not a fan of wine. At least, not the wine Bucky brought to the dinner.

An hour into the dinner and you've already had enough glasses to have Bucky worried. The wine is halfway to empty by the time dessert rolls in, and when your sister's husband clears his throat, you abandon the glass and drink straight from the bottle.

The second hour into the dinner is where things got interested. Interesting enough for Bucky to take the bottle from you before you could throw it at someone's head. Mainly because he wanted to throw it at someone's head. Your sister's husband's head to be specific.

Just as your mother gets up to start making tea for the muffins you brought, Bucky is the first on his feet and the first to use the 'we have to get going before we miss the bus' excuse.

You grin at him, vision slightly hazy from the wine you drank on an empty stomach.

"Mhmm," you hum as you cling into him to get to your feet, "the bus. We gotta- the bus. Bah-yeee."

"I'll make sure she gets home safe," he promises to your parents and they believe him.

Hell, you believe him. If there's one thing you can trust your neighbour to do, it's to save your life. But not your coffee machine.

He guides back to the car, which is parked exactly where you told him to, and he's never been happier to have listened to you. You sing all the way back, some ridiculous song about when you're fat and old, and you're the most content he's ever seen you.

Drunk off wine, eyes glassy and smile wide, as you try to mimic his steps. You sigh when you get into your seat, even though you fight him on opening your own door, and fumble lazily with your seat belt until he helps you clip it in.

Your struggle to find a comfortable position, but forget all about that when he parks the car outside your favourite coffee shop. You're out before he can even unclip his seatbelt and you're inside before he makes it to the door.

"Hi," you whisper-yell as you lean against the counter. "Pssst. Hi. Hello."

The barista blinks at you. Bucky cuts in before he can get a word out. "We'll take coffee. Filter. And anything that's bread-"

"-don't listen to him, he breaks hearts for a living. Sometimes he rips them out." I jab your pointer finger against the countertop. "I will take the strongest coffee you've got. I'm in the mood for bad decisions and-"

"We'll be at the booth, in the back." Bucky gently pries you from the counter. "One coffee and two bottles of water-"

You try to smack his hands away. "Why must you be so- Barnes, I swear to god, I will take your parking space."

He shoves you into the booth, then takes a seat opposite you. You attempt to make a break for the counter, but the glare he fixes you with is enough to keep you in your place.

It should scare you. The look he gives you. You know what he is capable of, without mad scientists to control him, you know the damage he's done. It takes a special kind of strength to face people like the flag smashers, and a special kind of crazy to go after them.

Bucky is both. And yet, his glare doesn't scare you. So much so, that you return it.

"I hate your brother-in-law-"

"Sister's husband," you cut in to correct him. "I refuse to recognise him as my anything."

He nods. "Right. So, let me get this straight-"

Bucky pauses as the barista sets down the coffee, the water, two croissants, some breadsticks and a garlic roll. When he's satisfied that there's nothing else, he leaves you alone with Bucky and the breads.

"You got work tomorrow-" he puts sugar into your coffee and stirs, before handing it to you. "-so you're gonna need to eat as much, so that it absorbs all that wine."

You glare at him but still do as he says. He's right and you'd rather sulk than admit it.

"So," he clears his throat to get your attention. "Your sister is an asshole, that married an asshole. And your parents are enablers of all that bullshit?"

You nod, practically shoving the garlic bread into your mouth. You didn't touch the food your mother cooked and, other than that milkshake Bucky bought you, you haven't had anything to eat all day.

"Instead of just sending you to therapy-" he scrunches his face in disgust at the thought. "-I can't fucking believe I'm advocating for that, but instead of paying for therapy. They do that? Host a dinner, sit a circle and kumbaya the problems away?"

Taking a sip from your coffee, you continue to nod. "Is it helping?"

He frowns, meeting your eyes. "What?"

"The mandated sessions-"you swallow. "-I heard you and Wings talking about it."

Thin walls. Shared balconies. Despite not being in each other's life, both of you know more than enough because of your apartments.

Your balcony and his are separated by a small barrier, but you can still hear his conversations - and visa versa- if you leave your glass door open enough when he's out there.

The wall that separates your apartment is thin enough for him to pick up on your habits. You don't think you're a creature of habit, but he would disagree.

He can tell, just from your foot steps, what you're going to watch or do in the living room. From the little sounds you make, he can tell which series you're binge watching for the umpteenth time and which one is on just for background noise.

If you weren't a creature of habit, he wouldn't have found you in time. You wouldn't be sitting in front of him, asking about his wellbeing, instead of dealing with yours.

"Wings is Captain now," he corrects, and you accept the deflection.

You would never overstep, or push. Not with him. Never with him.

"If Captain, why Wings?"

Narrowing his eyes, he pushes the bread sticks closer to you. "Fine, Captain Wings."

Again, you obey the silent instruction.

"Where were we-"

"We were plotting an asshole's abduction," you tell him, "and then dropping him off at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean. If that's not available, then maybe near Dyer Island."

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Why would we drop your sister’s husband on an Island?”

"It's a place, with a shitload of great white sharks."

"And you know this because?"

"I like to always be prepared."

"For what?" His brows furrow. "Do you just know random places to dump people that–"

You cut in. "–will lead to an inevitable death by natural causes? Yes."

He stares at you. Actually stares. Openly, at you. He can't remember the last time he did that, looked at you, for no other reason than to just look.

You didn't always hate him. When he first moved into your apartment building, and the landlord introduced you too, you were indifferent. He didn't think you knew who he was, most people don't at first glance, so he was relieved. Indifference was definitely better than everything else.

That was until you walked passed him and Sam in the lobby of the building, a week after he moved in.

"Sarge–" you nodded at him, as you checked your mail. Then nodded at Sam as you made your way out of the building. "–Wings."

You knew, you always knew who he was, and just didn't care. That was refreshing, to say the least.

The hate only came that night, or the following morning, he wasn't sure. All Bucky knows is, he meddled, and now you hate him for it. For saving you.

He's tried to talk to you about it. Countless of times, he's tried, and each time you hate him a little bit more. Or so it seems.

He wants to talk about it now. It's obvious in the way he's looking at you, like he can't believe you're here, in front of him. You can't either, but you won't ever admit that to him.

Hell would sooner freeze over before you actually admitted that maybe, just maybe, he should have meddled sooner.

You won't. So, instead, you put down the bread stick and sit back. "I know a really cool coffee place... If you still need a new place to hang."

It's an olive branch. You don't ever say what you really mean, he knows that, and he smiles at that little fact. That he knows that, he knows you.

"Is the barista as dramatic as I hear?"

"Only to strangers that break down her doors," you shrug. "Oh, and guys who break her coffee machine–"

"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

You grin. Because you're just as petty as he is.

---

Tags: @sunflowerxbarnes , @ginger-swag-rapunzel , @arctic-duchess

#Bex's 1.5K Meme Challenge #Bucky Barnes #marvel masterlist #x reader #reader insert #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel writing challenge #part 2 #neighbours au #enemiestolovers au #bucky fanfic #series #mcu x reader

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stab-the-son-of-a · 3 years

Text

And We’re Live

“This ought to be fun.”

The man, the being, the figure, doesn’t introduce himself, of course not. He needs no introductions, not because he’s notable or particularly renowned, but because he refuses to. You may call him the announcer, capital and article optional, as that’s what he is, and all he will be.

The Announcer adjusts the display on the screen for the optimal viewing experience. On it is a dim, possibly damp even, basement, with a small crowd of people huddled inside. Three is company, but four is a crowd, and this collection of people is certainly a crowd crammed inside.

Three men, one woman, but only one of the men stands. He’s one of the only ones who can, as one man is clearly too weak to, and the other, the older man, has a broken leg. The woman could stand, but her faint wavering even while sitting down belies the fact her balance is not yet restored from the head injury that left a streak of blood dried in her hair.

“You recognize these, don’t you?” The Announcer asks. He asks you, in fact. You can’t recall the color of his eyes, the tone of his skin, or anything, though you can recognize his attentions on you even through the screen. “Yes. You. It’s been some time since you’ve last seen or heard from them, but I’m sure you remember.”

The Announcer smiles. It appears, a flash of expression, but you can’t remember the emotion behind it or recognize any other feature of his before he fades away in your mind again to nothing more than a vehicle of your entertainment. He knows this. He is not the star. Your gaze slips back toward the more interesting people. Thom nods off, cradled against Dale’s side opposite to Jaden, and Summer is half hidden behind Dale’s bulk. Half, because her focus, even as fuzzy as the concussion leaves her, never wavers from Jaden. Focus, and wariness.

“When last you saw the unfortunate guests of the Pierce couple, they were not enjoying their stay. I’d wager they enjoy it less and less as the days pass. How long?” The Announcer laughs. It’s as unremarkable, and unmemorable as the rest of him. He answers his own question. “Long enough, let us say. Such trivial matters don’t lessen your enjoyment of the main event, does it?”

You feel like maybe the announcer winks, inviting you in on some inside joke or exclusive club.

On the screen, Jaden Pierce towers over a floor-bound Dale Gibson, an ugly smirk on his features, and dangles a water bottle in front of them.

The Announcer speaks a final time. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your show, my whump aficionados.”

Jaden slowly uncaps the bottle, the seal crackling being the loudest thing in the room. Preening under the cumulative weight of his captives’ stares, he asks, “Aw did you guys want any? There’s only one bottle and really it’s like, unsanitary as hell and super nasty to share so. Take your pick, babes, which of you is desperate enough to earn it?”

“Go to hell you bastard,” Summer croaks. Clearing her throat, she glares, as if that would cow him. Instead, it seems to encourage him, a smirk growing on his face.

Jaden rolls his eyes at the display. “Ooooh I’m so scared.”

“Please. You can’t mess with this like you have our food,” Dale reasons. “We can’t last as long without water. I’ll- I won’t eat. Just please, they need water.”

“Pretty sure you’re showing every sign of dehydration too, so why aren’t you arguing for more water for all of you?” Jaden shifts the bottle to hold it in the crook of his arm before he crouches down and cups Dale’s chin, forcing their gazes to meet. “Oh that didn’t occur to you, did it? Look at those eyes. Anyone ever tell you that you got eyes that tell a story?”

Dale doesn’t justify that with a response, setting his jaw and silently returning Jaden’s curious stare with a furious glower.

“Get your disgusting hands off him,” Summer snarls. Jaden’s attention flickers to her, and Dale immediately moves to reach out for Jaden’s face, cupping his cheek and bringing their gazes together once more. Or at least, it did, but surprise has Jaden jerking back from the contact, eyes wide and jaw clenched. Unsure of what to do with his hand, or if his impulsive action just ruined any hope of good will from their captor, Dale slowly withdraws his hand back to cover Summer from Jaden’s potential retribution.

After a few more tense moments, he seems to find whatever he was looking for, or come to some sort of decision.

“Jesus H Christ but you’re boring these days,” Jaden grumbles half-heartedly, but he does shove Dale back. The older man tips, just barely catching himself from dragging an semi-conscious Thom to the floor with him. Noticing the fact Thom barely reacted to the motion, the young man stands back up and takes a few curious steps to the side, an odd expression on his face as he studies his collection from a new angle, and especially the branded man. “So… Uh. What’s up with Thommy boy? He seems a little... not poggers.”

“You branded him,” Dale points out evenly, forcing his panic down. “He needs proper medical attention.”

“Well, yeah, he got branded sure, but Sunshine there looks right as rain after her little Jack and Jill impression down the stairs, and she didn’t even need anything. So why hasn’t he gotten over it yet?”

“He’s starving,” Dale explains, right as Summer snarls, “Are you really that dumb?”

That’s the perfectly wrong thing to say, as Jaden flips- his eyes dark and hateful, lips twisted into a sneer, focus entirely on her now. Dale flinches back on instinct, free arm extending to block Jaden’s path to Summer. Dale knows, Summer knows, Jaden knows, that it won’t do anything concrete to stop him, but the younger man still does not advance.

Silence descends on the room, heavy and oppressive like the midday heat leaching into the basement.

Though Dale pushes her back, bodily places himself between Jaden and his two charges, Summer continues. “How could you be this... stupid? I can see your report card now. ‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Moron, look into McDonald’s applications’.”

Emboldened by the silence, and undeterred by the way Dale whispers for her to stop, Summer adds, “Now I know we’re going to go free. You’re going to forget something so fucking simple and get yourself in trouble. And the whole world will forget all about you, you miserable mistake of a human being.”

At the almost petulant look on Jaden’s face, Summer bursts into short, sharp laughter. “I can’t be the first to point out you’re a failure! You’re going to ruin your worthless life-”

“Be quiet,” Jaden orders. Growls. His grip on the water bottle has the plastic bloating and deforming, the flimsy packaging crinkling. “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you. Do not test me.”

“You’re too incompentent to make me do anything, idiot,” Summer fires back.

“Fucking BITCH!” His shriek ends with an abrupt and solid crack.

Dale hurries to gather Summer in his arms, to check her neck and her head. A heavy, purple bruise blooms on her face and jaw even as the swelling shuts her eye. “Come on, Summer, come on,” he whispers, “just open your eyes and look at me.”

Thankfully, despite the lurid color, she is only a little unsteady and dazed and forces her clumsy arms to prop herself up properly. Swallowing a furious sob, Summer screams at Jaden’s retreating back, “You’re fucking pathetic!”

Three hours later, Lab Coat Lady entered the basement, flanked by Jaden bearing that damned pistol. When Dale tried to get his attention, Jaden silently raised the gun to the center of the older man’s forehead. Only when Dale slumped and allowed the woman in pink access to Thom, even as his heartbeat climbed ever faster and higher in his throat, did Jaden lower his threat.

Sluggish and flushed with fever, Thom struggled to cooperate as the woman ordered, except for her last demand- to remain still- as she readied to pour a faint yellow liquid down his throat. She glanced up at Dale, then Summer. Quietly, she offered little explanation (“Hydrocodone”) before tipping it back, and, when Thom realized what had hit the back of his throat, she expertly covered his mouth and nose and held his jaw shut.

Dale watched it all, feeling like Judas.

Only after his motions slowed and his eyelids drooped did the woman in pink release her hold enough to settle him onto his back.

From there, she debrided his burn, slathered a generous amount of antiseptic cream, and bandaged the wound with a silvery material, all under Dale’s watchful eye.

The woman approached Summer next- and again, as soon as either she or Dale moved, Jaden leveled the gun at Thom’s head. Both captives froze, a single, too long moment of realization that despite this effort, he might still decide to blast a bullet into Thom’s skull; blissfully unaware, Thom dozed in a drugged haze.

He kept the gun trained on Thom the whole time the lab coat lady attended to Summer’s head injury, cleaning out blood from the wound and her hair. Summer, even if only for a moment, leaned into the rhythmic sensation of fingers gently carding through the freshly detangled locks. After that was settled, the pink coated woman checked her pupils and eye tracking, and apparently gave her a clean enough bill of health. Her carving on her lower stomach received the same treatment Thom’s branding had.

The silence began to itch, like a week without a shower, and Dale clenched his fists as best as his broken wrists allowed. He just wished someone would speak and explain this abrupt change. Was it because of what Summer said? Had they gotten through to him somehow?

Dale stared at Jaden, expecting him to say something, make some sort of joke or verbalize his threat or name what they owed for this kindness. Jaden acted like Dale didn’t exist at all. It was unnerving, the same way it was unnerving to see teachers outside school hours, or parents when they were children- someone with a previous persona acting entirely differently from what one could expect of them. Unexpected was never a good sign when it came to Jaden.

“On your back,” Lab Coat Lady directed him, pushing him back, powerless, helpless in everyway. He couldn’t defend himself on a good day, let alone stuck supine. He couldn’t even fight back as she pushed down on his chest and drew his hands away from his body. “Cooperate. Things will go smoother.”

They did. His wrists were rebandaged, and his leg braced. That simple act alone brought tears to his eyes, both from the metal pressing against the swollen flesh, and the relief of loose bone finally finding stability. Again, he tried to find Jaden’s gaze, to lock eyes and try to understand, but the man didn’t glance in his direction at all, though he had to feel the weight of his stare.

Wiping her hands down with sanitizer again, the pungently clean smell permeating the poorly ventilated basement, Lab Coat Lady pulled out three prescription bottles. Haphazardly, Boomer, Thom1, T2, and a sun were written on the bottle lids in sharpie. The lids themselves had timers on them, presumably counting down to the next doses. Next to emerge from the bag was four more water bottles. Just as silent as Jaden had been the whole time, the pair left the basement and latched the door behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Summer whispered after a few minutes.

“I don’t know,” Dale admitted, struggling to sit back up, even as Summer reached over and helped him to change positions. His gaze dragged back to the locked door, and his mind to the man who had walked out. He didn’t know that man at all. He hadn’t considered that sort of behavior in Jaden’s abilities. His palms began to sweat and shake as he checked the bottles left behind.

Thom’s was more hydrocodone and an antibiotic. The instructions were clearly detailed on the side of the bottle. The same for Summer’s, another antibiotic. Dale had been… not prescribed, but given, pain relief. Tylenol-3, codeine. The bottles were light, and almost more full of air than medicine, but they contained an unimaginably heavy question within: Why.

#live feed series #lf lab coat lady #lf jaden pierce #lf summer ramirez #lf thom grisham #lf dale gibson #drugs tw #medical whump #brief unreality #mild body horror #ask to tag #broken bones #starvation mention

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marvelship-oneshots · 3 years

Text

NIGHT SHIFT (STONY)

AU where Steve is a cashier at McDonalds and Tony is a regular [1.3k words]

When Steve and Tony first met, it was totally casual. So casual that it didn't mean anything for the both of them. They even forgot about it. It was a cold November night and in New York it was raining. Tony was just out of the club he spent the night partying at and he was so drunk he could barely stand. He thought that stopping at the nearest McDonald's for something to eat and a cup of coffee was the best idea. He could hear his father's words "you're a 27 years old man, the future of the company, you can't go out and party like a child". But in his opinion, it was exactly because he was a 27 year old man that he could go out partying until he felt like it. And to be honest, it was not like his father, may he rest in peace, could stop him anymore. Steve was working his night shift, like every other night. He had picked up that job that no one wanted to do, in order to pay for the expensive art school he was studying at. Between his two jobs he didn't have much time to catch up with his homework but the good news was that during the night shift the restaurant was never particularly busy and usually it was just him. Him and that one customer that from a certain point on became a usual. Steve noticed him the very first time he walked in, mostly because it was the first customer to ever come in during the night shift. He didn't pay much attention to him though. Steve gave him his cheeseburger and his black coffee at around 3am, watched him pass out on a table, ignoring him, and then gave him a donut and another black coffee once he woke up. Other than that, Steve didn't even look at him in the eyes. Tony, however, had plenty of chances to look at Steve, too bad that the next day he had already forgotten about him. Something at the back of his mind told him that there was something special about that McDonalds, but he would have never guessed that it was the tall, blond and handsome cashier. So, the next Saturday, after yet another party, he went back there. This time, he was a hell of a lot less drunk and managed to avoid passing out on the table, looking at Steve instead. But that was not the last time Tony went back to that McDonalds. He actually took up the habit of crashing there after a long night partying, every weekend and sometimes even during the week. And every single time, his now new favourite employee was there. Steve eventually started noticing him. A first he thought he was somehow weird that the same man showed up every single Saturday, smelling like alcohol and cigarettes, in what once were very fancy clothes. They still were fancy, but they had suffered the heat of a night of partying. Tony still looked good though, even if it took him forever to realise it. But as soon as he did, Steve's homework and assignments became pretty much Tony-centered. Tony looked old, well, older than Steve, that's for sure. Steve was a 19-year-old boy and his facial features were still pretty much boyish. He wasn't even sure he could even grow a beard. Tony had a beard, a perfectly shaven beard, probably making him look older than he really was. This didn't stop Steve from fantasising on his mysterious client. The first thing Tony noticed about Steve were his broad shoulders and his perfectly shaped body. It was difficult not to notice Steve's body, even under those hideous gray t-shirts, and Tony could only imagine how Steve would look with any sport t-shirt or a tailored shirt, or even better, without them. But if Steve ever asked, Tony would tell him that the first thing he noticed were his eyes. Which, in truth, were the second. Lastly, he noticed that the boy might have been way too young for him, and he was for sure not looking for a playboy. But Tony kept showing up more and more often and he always spent the night. When he wasn't drunk,he stayed awake, sometimes working, sometimes just, kind of creepily, staring at the blond man. Steve, on the other hand, spent his nights staring at Tony, justifying by reminding himself that it was all for academic purposes. Truth was that not even half of all of his sketches and

drawings were submitted to his professors as assignments, the others he kept for himself.

It took Tony several months to build up the courage to talk to Steve. In his mind, he had to ask him for his name, and maybe, just maybe, ask him if he was interested in drinking a cup of coffee with him, right there and right then. But Steve was studying his history of art manual for an exam he had that week, for the first time not really caring about Tony. And Tony's brain went to mush and his playboy personality spoke of him. "I thought that the David was in Rome, not working in this McDonalds" Tony said, leaning on the counter, hoping to meet Steve's eyes. "It's actually in Florence, thank you very much" Steve replied, not looking up from his book. Tony ordered his cheeseburger and went back to his table, where he stayed until Steve finished his shift. If Steve had been any other person,he wouldn't have made any effort to at least have him to look at him. Usually, people would chase after him, but Steve was different. He had set his mind on going out with him and when he did set his mind on something, he was determined to reach his goal. For a year, every single night, Tony went back to the restaurant and every single night he tried a different pick up line. At first, he started with something very subtle, he didn't want to creep him out, more than showing up every night like a stalker might have already done. But ten, seeing that Steve was totally indifferent to them, he upgraded his game. The pack up lines became more shameless and dirtier and Tony started writing them down, crossing the ones that didn't work, which were all of them. Steve was clueless and oblivious, always had been. His problem was that he noticed Tony's attempts to catch his attention, but he didn't believe that he was really interested in a simple cashier.

Tony was tired of trying. It had been a year and he hadn't made any progress so far. He decided that that night he would try one last time and, if it didn't work, he would move on, going back to partying and getting wasted. He walked into the restaurant, fixed his tie and walked towards Steve. Tony leaned on the counter, waiting for Steve to look at him. When the blond finally took his eyes away from his sketchbook, looking at Tony, he finally spoke. "Are you a parking ticket? Because you have FINE written all over you" Tony winked at him, while Steve was still looking at him. "Are you flirting with me?" Tony smiled, rolling his eyes in his mind. "Have been for the past year, but thank you for noticing" Steve blushed and looked down at the cash register to hide his red cheeks. "In that case, it was the lamest pick up line in existence" he replied, once the redness went away. "Don't worry, that's just plan A" Steve looked confused. "And what's plan B?" "To take you hostage" Tony replied way too quickly. Steve blushed again, thinking back to every interaction he had with Tony, remembering every single pick up line Tony had used with him. He cringed thinking at the very dirty and not-so-subtle une he used and especially at how he had never reacted. "This is crazy" "Well, usually crazy works. So tell me, is it working?" Steve shrugged. "Maybe" "Do I need plan B or are you going on a date with me on your own?" Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess it's better that being taken hostage"

#stony #stevetony #tonysteve #steve rogers #tony stark #steve x tony #tony x steve #stevextony #tonyxsteve

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oshbluepacific · 3 years

Text

Discreet

Type: Angst

Character: DO Kyungsoo x Reader

Words Counted: 3k2+

questions and request are available / masterlist

To you, being an idol isn’t the easiest job in the world. Or the most ‘joyful’ one either. It’s almost like a one-way ticket with no way to return to where you came from. You’re in it, to make a living out of it. There are ups and downs on being an idol. Yes, being an idol means you get the opportunity to see the world, meet new people, being invited to the A listers party, and to inspire people all around the globe. But, being an idol has it’s down too. People would literally comment on everything you say, do—even wherever you go. One false movement then you could end up in the gossip column or even be thrown at a scandalous news to the world. Small conversation with the opposite sex might attract new romance rumors, when really—they’re just having a friendly conversation. If you’re going on a hiatus, people might think that you’re hiding something, of you’re waiting until some scandalous news about you die down before you go back. It’s hard.

But it’s harder when you’re dating another idol.

You met him right after an award show. At that time, it was raining and you were wearing a revealing dress. It was cold, so you were hugging yourself basically.

“You cold?” A voice asked you. You turn to see none other than the man standing with a matching blue suit.

“Ah, yeah… My manager is… somewhere, I guess… She left my coat in the car, so here I am, freezing to death.” You joked, and he let out a chuckle before he could take his suit off.

“Here, wear mine first.” He said giving it to you.

“Oh, no it’s okay! I’ll be okay—” “Just wear it, it’s fine…” He said putting it on to you. He then leans in closer to your ear.

“There are photographers above us, I just don’t want them getting pictures that they shouldn’t take.” He whispered. You turn to him, who was pressing his lips together firmly as he took a step away.

“Keep it, maybe we’ll meet again someday.” He said before walking away from you as you pull his suit tighter to cover you.

“Congrast on the win by the way!” He shouted happily and you just smiled.

And you’re glad that the both of you crosses paths for the second time. He was out with his friends, while you were dining by yourself. Wearing a black hoodie and sweats, while he was wearing a black cap, a white t-shirt and a sweatpants with a pair of sandals.

“The girl with the dress is now the girl with sweats.” He said as he approached your table, and you just giggled.

“Since, my dress was too revealing for the paparazzies, I need an outfit that covers most parts of my body too.” You winked and he chuckled.

He looked at his friends for a brief second before turning back to you.

“So listen, I’m with my friends right now, but I would really love to have a meal with you and get to know you a little bit more in the future, so… can I call you or text you later?” He asked. And you just smiled before both of you could exchange phone numbers.

You talked to him almost everyday until he finally asked you out on dinner. He didn’t want any public media knows about it, so he invited you down to his place where he cooks all of the meal.

“You cook this much?” You asked as you approached the dinning table in his house.

“Yeah, I didn’t know how much we’d both be eating, so… I made this much.” He said.

You turn your head to him and he was smiling from ear to ear. “The more the better.” He said.

He asked you to be his girlfriend on the third date, which was at his place, and the both of you were just watching Netflix until you both got into an intimate conversation.

“Umm… I don’t know, I think it’s too risky.” You whispered before his forehead could touch yours.

“I know… but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He said.

You could feel his hand on your back, pulling you closer into his arms.

“If you don’t want to do it, it’s fine—but I really want to take this chance, even it’s risky.” He said.

“Nobody can know about us—especially the media!” You pointed out to him, staring deep into his eyes.

“Especially that.” He said.

“We have to tell both of our manager so they can help us with our meeting plan, so no media can ever see us.” You told him, and he nodded his head.

“Of course, we’re just going to keep this out from the media, and our friends.” He said.

“Okay…”

“Okay… So you want to do this?” He asked as his eyes traveled down to your lips before he could look back into your eyes.

“Yes, yes, I want to do this with you.” You nodded your head with a smile, your arms reflexively moved, wrapping it around his neck.

“Okay…” He said in a low voice before he could press his plump lips on yours.

You’ve been dating THE Do Kyungsoo—the singer and actor—for 6 months now since that night he asked you to be his girlfriend. You kept this information really close. Your head agency and also Kyungsoo’s head agency already knew about this, and they agree to keep it as a secret as long as it can. Both yours and Kyungsoo’s manager knows about it too, and both of them have been working together to keep all sorts of public attention, medias, tabloids, fans away from you and Kyungsoo. They also helped to arrange on how you get to Kyungsoo’s place without being spotted, or the other way around it and it has been working so well—

So far.

You were currently eating lunch with you co-star near where you were shooting your drama. You could see some fans whispering as they pass by and some of them let out a squeal of excitement. Not long after that, public media starts to trickled in one by one.

“Ah, the media’s here.” Minjae said, prepping himself to get off from his seat.

You looked over yoru shoulders and you could see people hurling the front door with their camera ready in hand.

You nodded your head before getting up from your seat.

“Shall we go?” You asked, and Minjae nodded his head.

Before you could leave the place, you thanked the owner by bowing your head slightly as Minjae followed you. He pulled your hand so that he exit the building first, pushing the both of you through the paparazzi and exciting fans.

Questions were started being thrown at the both of you. Starting from the questions about yoru drama, then to yours and Minjae’s dating life.

“Can you tell us what the drama is about?”

“Can we confirm that you guys are having an off-screen romance?”

“KIM MINJAE WE LOVE YOU!”

“Is it true that you’re dating (Y/N)?”

“(Y/N), are you dating DO Kyungsoo at the moment?”

You heard the question, but you didn’t react to it, otherwise people would already get a confirmation. You and Minjae didn’t answer to any of the questions and proceed to Minjae’s car.

“Aish… can people move aside, we’re trying to get out from this place.” He said turning his car engine on.

You let out a light laugh, but really your head was too distracted by the question that was asked by the media.

“(Y/N), are you dating DO Kyungsoo at the moment?”

As Minjae drove his car slowly out from the parking space, you fished yoru phone out from your purse to send a quick text to Kyungsoo.

Hey, are you busy today?

You send the text and as you reached the set, you got a reply from Kyungsoo.

From: K

Just finished rehearsing, why?

But, as you were about to reply, your director was already calling out for you and Minjea to get on the next scene. So you placed your phone back into your purse before you get back into your job. But as the day goes by, you didn’t feel safe, everything was distracting, you lose focus, to the point Minjae asked you if you’re okay. Right after the shoot, you thanked everyone before proceeding to go straight home. You plopped yourself on the couch of your living room as you opened yoru phone.

4 Missed Calls from K

3 Unread Messegaes from K

From: K

Are you home?

For: K

Yes

As you placed your phone on your stomach, you let out a sigh before you could feel your phone vibrating on you.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey, I’m on my way to you right now, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” Kyungsoo said, and you could feel your body went rigid as you sat up. He must’ve known something.

“Soo, I don’t think that’s a good idea, I’m scared if the media has secretly followed me home.” You said, getting up from the couch, stepping out to your balcony.

You saw a couple of people hiding behind the bushes, seemingly ready for Kyungsoo to be caught red-handed to come by to your place.

“Where are you right now?” He asked you, his voice was stern.

“I’m at my apartment.” You answered him, your eyes still looking down on the people below.

“Let’s just meet at my house—but make sure no one is following you.” He added.

“Okay.” You said, walking back inside before locking your balcony glass.

“And (Y/N)…” Kyungsoo called.

“Yeah?” You stopped your tracks as you were putting your coat on.

“Becareful okay? I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” You replied before you could hung up the phone and went straight down to your car.

By the time you hit the road, you knew you were being followed. But you made turns that just didn’t make any sense, you stopped by McDonalds to kill time as well.

When you got back into the road, Kyungsoo called you.

“Where are you? I’m already here, waiting for you.” He said in a worried tone.

“I’m on my way, I was driving around and stopped at McDonalds first, so that nobody is really suspecting a thing.” You told him.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you okay? Becareful.” He said again.

You hung up the call and continue to drive towards Kyungsoo’s house… while trying to enjoy the fries you just bought.

You parked your car and you can already see Kyungsoo waiting for you outside. He was wearing a khaki pants and black sweater.

“Hey, come in.” He said, taking your hand before closing the door and locking it.

He then greeted you before pulling you into a hug.

“How was your day?” He asked you.

“It was fine… Until I finished up lunch with Minjae, and then suddenly someone asked if we’re dating—I got distracted.” You told him, pulling away from his hug.

“You mean, you and Minjae dating?” Kyungsoo asked.

“No Soo, I mean us…” You said, your voice getting small.

You can see his expression changed, and his jaw clenched after you said it.

“I know, because I was asked the same question as well when I walked out of the studio and…” He then walked to the living room where his laptop was sitting on top of his coffee table. He took it with his hand and he showed you the screen.

THE MULTITALENTED DO KYUNGSOO IS DATING THE BEAUTIFUL NATIONAL ACTRESS, (Y/N)

You turn to Kyungsoo, who has his arms crossed on his chest. You took the laptop from him before taking a seat on his couch and proceed to read the article.

It is no mystery that DO Kyungsoo is one of the most favourite idol in the world. And (Y/N) is one of the rising star in the acting world, and is currently working on a drama with Kim Min-Jae. Fans are speculating that there will be an on-goingm on and off screen romance between the two actors. But to what we know is, the actress is having an off screen romance with the Idol, DO Kyungsoo. Both DO Kyungsoo and (Y/N) has been spotted together last month but, none of them shares any statement about their relationship.

You read the article further and it just makes you nervous and furious even more. You placed it back on the coffee table before bringing your legs up against yoru chest.

“My manager sent me the article, and I told him that I want to talk to you about it first.” He said and you reply by nodding you head.

“Did he say anything else?” You asked him, but your eyes avoiding Kyungsoo’s.

“He gave me options.” He said, his tone sounded heavy.

You turn your head to finally look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s either, we verified the news, and announce that we are indeed dating, or, we have to part ways for a brief moment.” He said.

“How long?” You asked him, but he just shrugged.

“You know it’s a bad idea to come out as a couple for the both of us right?” You asked him. He pressed his lips before letting out a long heavy breath, agreeing to the hard truth.

Kyungsoo is planning on coming back with a new album with his friends, while you’re still working on your drama. You thought about the damage if you both come out to the public as a couple. Kyungsoo’s music wouldn’t be supported, so will your drama. Fans would start to attack you—especially you, because you know how fans are in this industry. You thought about other scandals that might turn up. Having a relationship with Kyungsoo then, media might stir it up that you’re also having a relationship with Minjae, because most of the time you’re going to be seen with him.

There was silence between you and Kyungsoo, both of you deep in your own thoughts. You then suddenly felt Kyungsoo’s touch on you knee and you turn to him. He gave you a small, assuring smile before you could smile back. You knew that he has made his decision.

“You want to take a pause?” You asked him.

“I think it’s best we take a pause first, right?” He asked again, and you bit your bottom lip before nodding your head.

You stared at his closed laptop, feeling your eyes started to sting.

“I don’t want it to pause, but we have to right?” You asked him, tears started to stream down your face. Kyungsoo quickly moved closer to you as you scrambled yourself to get into his embrace. You could feel his arms pulling you tighter.

“It’s not fair.” You whimpered burying your face on his chest.

“I know… but I think this is what’s best for you too baby.” He said, and you just nodded your head. You hate that what he was saying was right.

“Hey… look at me.” He said, pulling your face and he let out a chuckle as he saw your crying face. He always find it very cute.

“I thought taking Chanyeol and Sehun to a club would be hard, but this is much harder than I thought. He said, sucsessfully made you laugh a little. “We’re taking a pause, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t be there for you, that doesn’t mean that I won’t take your calls or answer your text okay? I’ll try to be there for you as much I can.” He said, only to make you tear up again.

“Maybe right now is not the right time for us to be together, but I’m certain that we’ll be together again soon enough when the time is right.” He smiled, despite how heartbroken it is to see you cry.

You both stayed like that for hours until it was time for you to get back home. As you both walked towards the door, your steps and heart felt really heavy. You turn around before you quickly could put your arms around Kyungsoo’s neck. He was surprised at first, but only to hug you tighter seconds later.

“I love you (Y/N)… so much, this is the hardest decision we both have to agree on.” He whispered, and you could tell he’s trying his best not to cry too by the sound of his voice cracking.

“I don’t want to let go…” You whimpered, but you heard him chuckle.

“Don’t be silly, you have a shoot to do tomorrow right?” He asked, pulling his face so that he could see you.

He tucked strands of hair behind your ear as he gave you a warm smile.

“I love you.” He said again.

“I love you too Soo.” Your voice sounded so small, it was almost a whisper.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You felt his grip on your side getting stronger, his lips getting warmer as his tongue explored your mouth. You got your hands all tangled up in his hair as the other one gripped his shoulder.

You’re going to miss his kisses.

You’re going to miss his touch.

You’re going to miss his attention and love.

You’re truly going to miss him.

You didn’t want his kiss to end, you didn’t want him to let go of you, you didn’t want this relationship to take a pause. You don’t want to leave. You don’t want this to happen. You wished all of this was a dream.

Once his lips parted from yours, both of you were gasping for air before you could meet his eyes.

His hands moved to the sides of your face before he could look down on the ground, and you could heard him sniffed.

He cried.

“Be careful okay?” He said, a tear stream down his face.

You nodded your head and he kissed your cheek and you lips for the last time before he could fully let go of you.

You opened the door and walked towards your car. You got into your car and tried to control your mind and you breathing because you’re going to be behind the wheel. You start your car and you saw Kyungsoo standing in front of the door. You saw him with a smile before raising his hand, waving to you. You smiled before you pulled away from the driveway and drove back to you apartment.

As you reached your apartment, you closed the door behind you before you could lean your back to it and slid down to the floor as you started crying. For the past 4 months everything was in the clear. 4 months went by beautifully. But anything beautiful could come to an end as well. You thought about where did it went wrong? Where did you both slipped? Has somebody been spying on the both of you all month long? You continue to run through you memory before turning up empty handed and drag your steps to you bedroom. You changed into you sleepwear and as you were washing your face, you just noticed how puffy your eyes are and how messy your hair was.

Slipping under the covers, you kepts sniffling, and tears just kept on streaming down your face.

“I love you Kyungsoo…” You whispered to yourself, hoping that maybe you both could be together again.

Because you felt your happiest when you’re with him.

32 notes · View notes

taizi · 4 years

Text

it’s a better place since you came along

the adventure zone taako & angus mcdonald 7k words

read on ao3

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

***

In which Taako answers a general “help wanted” ad that actually changes his entire stupid life.

There’s a baby crying somewhere.

Taako, left waiting in the foyer by a harried maid, has nothing else to do but tap a foot, twist one of the rings on one of his fingers, and count the long seconds that the plaintive wail continues to echo through the cavernous house.

Listen, he may not be a very good dude, just in general, and for a healthy plethora of reasons—but there’s a prickling sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach, as one minute passes into two, and the sounds of distress go unheeded.

What in the fresh fuck, he thinks, when another member of the house staff drifts through the room without any sense of urgency. If he knew shit about magic beyond a few travel-handy tricks and the occasional intuitive transmutation, he’d assume this was some sort of elaborate illusion. Maybe a sort of test played on unsuspecting hopefuls who came to answer the help-wanted ad.

Unfortunately for Taako, he remembers all-too well what it feels like to be an unwanted child, outcast and always alone. As it turns out, he has a very particular Achilles’ heel and he’s not overly thrilled to discover it.

“Well, I didn’t need the job that bad,” he tells himself, as he gets up to single-mindedly fail this stupid test. And nevermind that he kind of really did.

‘Confidence is key’ and ‘fake it till you make it’ are two mantras that Taako could live and die by, so it’s with long, unchecked strides that he crosses the grand foyer and chases the miserable cries up some stairs, down a long corridor, and finally into an out-of-the-way bedchamber at what must have been the back of the house.

The cries stutter when the door clicks open, and Taako gets a glimpse of a tiny round face peering at him through the bars of an ancient-looking crib. The sudden appearance of this strange elf in his nursery seems to have surprised the little human, but not for long. After about two seconds, he screws his face up and screams with renewed vindication.

Taako winces, his sensitive ears twitching back at the onslaught. This is way above his paygrade, but he used to babysit younger kids in the caravans while their parents were busy or drunk, in exchange for a hot meal or a few coins. He’s not totally out of his depth here.

“Hey, little man,” he says by way of hello. “Trying to bring the roof down, huh? No, I dig that. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but this house of yours is ugly as hell.”

Taako doesn’t raise his voice, because what the hell would be the point? There’s no way he’s winning that contest of wills, and nobody wants some lunatic shouting at them when they’re this fucking distraught, anyway. He just crosses his arms on the side of the crib and leans down to get a good look at the kid.

The baby’s face is tacky and snotty, dusky skin flushed darker with exertion, curly hair a tangled mop. But he’s a cute little guy despite himself, probably a year old or thereabouts, not that Taako is in any way a decent judge of that sort of thing. As Taako talks to him in a conversational tone, his awful, heaving sobs peter out.

The tearful gulps are better. The way he lifts pudgy arms up to be held, not so much.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taako says, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. “I’m not even supposed to be in here. You have no idea how culturally insensitive people are when it comes to elves and babies. Your mama walks in and sees me holding you, and then she’s calling the guard, and I’m getting hauled off for attempting to spirit her little heir away, and we both perpetuate an archaic myth that all elves are equally capable of and greedy for voluntary childcare. Let me just say—from personal experience—that is not the fuckin' case.”

But he reaches a hand into the crib and lets the little human clutch at it. Tiny, clumsy fingers wrap around Taako’s much bigger ones and hold tight. The baby’s eyes are wide and curious now, soaking up Taako’s every word without a damn clue what any of them mean.

Taako almost forgot he knew how to do this. It’s been months since Glamour Springs, since Sazed ditched him on the road. Taako’s been living a half-life, made up of odd jobs and never staying for too long in any one place, and for all that it’s absurdly one-sided, this is the longest conversation he’s had since then, too.

“One of us is pretty fucking pathetic,” he confides. “And it’s not the screamy baby.”

“Ah, this is where you’ve gone,” a voice from the doorway says.

Taako jumps in alarm, and looks around in time to watch a man step into the nursery. He bears a striking resemblance to the baby in the crib, though he’s graying at the temples and his face is lined with too much age for him to be an immediate parent. Grandparent, probably. Distinguished, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than the entire cumulative worth of everything Taako currently owns, leaning heavily on a walking cane.

He doesn’t look as though he’s about to ring the alarm, but Taako is still a little keyed up. Given the way he’s been living, the feeling of getting caught, even for a moment, activates his fight or flight response.

“Sorry,” Taako says lamely. “I heard him crying.”

“I don’t doubt it. His parents, my daughter and her husband, died recently. An accident on the road,” the man says. There’s some sorrow there, but it’s pushed back and away. Compartmentalized. “He came to live with me, but the transition hasn’t been an easy one. It seems as though all he’s done is cry.”

Taako doesn’t melt even slightly for the poor kid, because he’s made of sterner stuff than that. But he does let him hold onto his hand for a little while longer. It’s not hurting anything.

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

It wasn’t a nanny ad. It was just a ‘general help wanted in exchange for room and board’ type of deal. He wouldn’t have shown up to take the job in the first place if it had specified providing 1) cooking, 2) companionship, or 3) childcare, and that’s for damn sure. He believes in playing to his strengths, and while vapid charm is certainly one of them, being personable and likable for any extended period of time is not.

And Taako absolutely doesn’t know what to think of this old rich guy who seems to be operating under the illusion that thirty seconds is plenty of time to get enough of a read on some rando to then trust your child to them. For real, and from the bottom of Taako's heart, what the fuck?

He’s only been acquainted with this particular child for about five minutes, but his ears go back and his hackles go up at the idea of someone just walking in off the street to take charge of him.

Maybe there’s some crucial insanity element to parenthood that Taako just isn’t fucking picking up. Maybe total and complete willingness to just ditch your kid at a moment’s notice is part of the package. Sure would explain a few things about Taako’s childhood.

But… this old manor house is clearly in the middle of nowhere. Two hours from the nearest settlement, where the job posting was hiding beneath other flyers on the board in the square. Taako wandered the woods all afternoon and almost gave up finding the place before the chimney smoke tipped him off.

It’s remote. Safe. And, at a glance, more comfortable than any of the inns and caravans Taako has lived out of since his auntie died.

He’s not qualified for this position, but since when has that ever stopped him? It’s not like he went to culinary school, either, and for awhile he was one of the most famous chefs on the continent. A baby can't be that much work.

Fake it till you make it, he thinks, and then faces the old man with a smile.

“Hell, I’m already here. Might as well start now.”

Aside from Taako, there are three other members of staff on the books, and none of them are full-time. The maids come in every other day to do the cleaning and the laundry and bring in groceries, that sort of thing. The groundskeeper only works the weekends.

They like Mr McDonald well enough, the girls confide in Taako over tea on his first night there, and the pay isn’t bad, but he’s forgetful. Doesn’t think to eat until he feels hunger pains, that sort of thing. Don’t be surprised if you get paid twice some weeks, or not at all others.

“He’s just not interested in running a household, I think,” the older of the two imparts, ancient at seventeen for all the weariness in her eyes. “I’m glad he finally found someone to take care of the baby. I felt bad about him crying all the time.”

Baby Angus had seemed to surprise both teens by being agreeable and downright adorable, perfectly content to be tucked into the crook of Taako’s arm and soothed to sleep by the rumble of his voice.

Did any of you try, like, holding him? Taako wants to ask acidly. Seems a little fucked up that Taako, of all people, is more on top of this than anyone else. But the maids are little more than kids themselves, and it seems as though grandpa isn’t completely with it.

About a month after Taako first wandered in, grandpa proves it.

“It was before Angus was born,” Mr McDonald says, digging through the many drawers in his study, looking for some expensive rich person thing he’d acquired at auction four years ago. There’s an empty crystal tumbler sitting on the liquor cabinet, next to a half-empty decanter of whiskey. “We went to Goldcliff for a charity fundraiser. Marquis proposed to my daughter that night. You remember, Taako?”

Taako, halfheartedly poking through stuff on the desk while Angus chews on the end of his braid, replies, “Sure do, homie. Hell of a party.”

He finds a photo in a stack of letters and pauses. Two humans are pictured with their arms around each other, handsome smiles on their faces for the camera, a baby cradled tenderly between them.

At the bottom, in looping handwriting, someone wrote ‘Marquis, Angela, and Angus.’ There’s a little heart drawn under the names with such care that it, in itself, is something of a revelation.

Angus’ parents wouldn’t have let him cry himself sick in a faraway room. They wouldn’t have let some stranger be holding him now. They abandoned him, but not on purpose. Not the same way Taako’s family did.

This kid was loved. He’s due love. And all he has is an absent grandpa and a shitty elf looking after him.

“Check it out, Ango,” Taako says quietly, holding the photo up so the baby can see, carefully out of reach of those sticky fingers. “Your genes are killer. You’re gonna outshine the whole damn world.”

He pockets the photo with a sleight of hand he perfected at ten years old, and then guts some ugly painting in the service hallway in the name of repurposing the frame, and then he and Angus stage a tactical retreat.

The nursery was too depressing, just in general, so one of Taako’s first acts as nanny was to move all the baby stuff in with his. He had his pick of any of the second floor bedchambers, and he chose one overlooking the overgrown gardens, with a pretty bay window that it only took like two hours and a handful of stubborn Prestidigitations to scrub clean.

He enlarges the photo, slides it into the frame, transmutes it to look like a more professional job, and then sets it in place of pride on one of the empty shelves.

“Gang’s all here,” he says. He bounces Angus a few times, eliciting a toothy smile from the kid.

Lordy, Taako thinks, she’d be laughing her ass off if she could see me right now.

The thought comes out of absolutely nowhere and disappears just as quickly, sliding right out of his mind like water through a sieve. Then Angus makes a sudden dive to grab one of the charms hanging off the brim of Taako’s hat, and he has more immediate things to worry about.

Living in a house is weird. Having the run of the place is even weirder.

Taako is certainly not the type to sign up for extra responsibility, and he’d be the first to say as much to literally anyone who asked. Keeping himself alive has always been trouble enough, and now he has a whole ass extra person he’s in charge of, too.

But as time drags on, he realizes he’s been pretty solidly assimilated.

When McDonald forgets to give Catherine the grocery allowance before he fucks off on one of his bi-monthly business trips to Neverwinter, Taako forks over his own gold without feeling the sting of it too badly. He practically writes his own checks around here, anyway. He can make up the difference whenever.

When crotchety old Boniface came in from the gardens looking for an answer about the freshly broken fountain, he bypasses McDonald’s closed office door entirely to demand guidance out of Taako instead. Taako is in the library, laying on his stomach to supervise Angus’ painstaking and artistic destruction of a probably priceless but unfortunately racist oral history Taako found on one of the shelves, and gives Boniface the go-ahead to gut the old eyesore.

“If it dies, it dies,” Taako says plainly, passing Angus a new red crayon. Boniface, pleased that he’s allowed to demolish something, makes it a point to ask Taako about these things first from then on.

When Ezra shows up in Taako’s suite one morning with tearful eyes and an ugly burn from the temperamental furnace in the basement, neither of them stop to question why she ran all the way up here. They’re both reasonably intelligent people, after all, and Taako is quick to cast a nonverbal Helping Hand. He doesn’t need to overthink it. The burned skin on Ezra’s arm is shiny and red, but repaired.

The girl surges forward to hug him, visibly rethinks it, and then changes course and scoops Angus up for a hug and a noisy kiss on the cheek instead. Angus shrieks in bald delight, and Taako finds himself smiling.

So, yeah. It’s weird, the whole thing is weird, but he wouldn’t say it’s bad.

McDonald is a kind but largely absent presence in their lives. When he’s home, he’s shut up in his study. Angus hardly seems to recognize the man anymore, only watching him with solemn brown eyes from the comforting circle of Taako’s arms. It doesn’t really sit well with Taako—he didn’t take this job to upstage any relatives or be a replacement parent—but he’s already nanny to a precocious two-year-old, he can’t also be nanny to a seventy-something-year-old retired scholar. If McDonald wants to be a part of Angus’ life, that’s on him. It can’t possibly fall on Taako’s shoulders.

“And even if it did, I have a bad back,” Taako informs Angus. “You’ll have to do the heavy-lifting for me, sweetpea. How’s that sound?”

“Okay, Taako,” Angus says gravely. If there’s a tiny part of Taako that’s fucking delighted every time this tiny miracle says his name, he squashes it down good and hard and no one is the wiser.

It feels a little bit like nothing exists outside this spacious manor house. The extensive grounds might as well be a magic barrier between Taako and the rest of the world. It won’t last—nothing good ever does—but for now he allows himself to pretend that it will.

Taako and his little shadow swing into the kitchen around noon one day to find Catherine in tears.

This is so far from the norm that Taako actually draws up short in the doorway. Angus toddles right into the back of his leg, loses his balance, and plops down hard on his padded bottom.

“What’s this all about, darling?” Taako asks warily.

Catherine is sharp in all the places Ezra is soft, and while it makes her much easier to understand—a girl after Taako’s own black, shriveled heart—it also makes her approximately one million times more difficult to comfort, as likely to bite at a helping hand as accept one.

At the first sign of her vicious temper, he’s gonna grab his kid and bail. There’s fruit and bread in the larder that’ll see them through to dinner, and if not, he's not above bribing Ezra to run interference.

But Catherine just lifts her head out of her hands and says, “I burnt the stupid soup!”

Taako blinks. He stands still so Angus can use one of his legs as leverage to pull himself back upright, and cups the back of the boy's head in silent praise when he manages it on his own.

“Okay,” Taako says slowly. He can piece this shit together. “The soup is burnt. And you’re cheesed about it because…you feel really strongly about soup.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snaps, but it’s without any real heat. “I just. I can’t get anything right today.”

Ah. Okay. So it’s one of those.

He hesitates for a moment, and then leans down to scoop Angus up and balances him on a hip. Angus knows not to toddle into the kitchen unsupervised, and rarely gets to toddle in at all when there’s cookery going on.

Taako himself rarely goes in. It feels too much like tempting fate. But his feet carry him forward, and he leans over the pot of thick and creamy chicken and dumplings, and right away he can smell the problem. It caught on the bottom of the pot and scorched.

He’s never worked in this kitchen—and he never will—but he remembers the steps. It’s mise en place. He reaches into the spice cabinet and withdraws a small tin shaker.

“Cinnamon,” he says at length, offering the tin to Catherine.

She stares at him, losing some of her steel for a moment. “Really?”

“Really,” Taako says, and firmly steps back. The six-second exchange has left him feeling tense and sick, his appetite fully and completely fucking out of the picture.

Angus is a perceptive little monster, and settles more heavily into Taako’s arms. He heaves a very pointed sigh, something he started doing to communicate that he’s feeling particularly safe and content. It makes Taako’s chest hurt in a much different way than impending panic attacks tend to, and he presses a kiss to the kid’s curly head.

“Thanks, angel,” he says.

“You’re welcome.”

“Holy shit, Taako,” Catherine says, looking up from the soup with awe in her eyes. As he watches, she tries another spoonful, and then she actually laughs out loud. “It worked!”

He finds himself searching her face for—sickness. Shortness of breath. Something.

It’s stupid. The people he killed in Glamour Springs didn’t show signs of death for days.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” Catherine goes on. “Could you teach me?”

“I don’t,” Taako blurts. It comes out sharper than he meant for it to, sudden and a little bit too loud. Catherine’s smile tapers. Angus lifts his head off Taako’s shoulder. Breathe, idiot, Taako tells himself. Be a fucking person for two seconds. “Cook, I mean. I don’t cook. Or, uh, teach. I’m kind of useless. Pretty, though.”

He flips his hair. It makes Angus giggle, but Catherine isn’t an easily-amused toddler, and she’s not buying it.

Her eyes are sharp, and seem to peel through layers of Taako’s bullshit like a knife. And then she scoffs, and mimics his hair flip with her wrist even though her hair is only about two inches long, and the tension drains out of the room like someone pulled a plug in the floor.

“You’ve been teaching Mango to read,” she says dryly. “And Elvish. And magic. But okay, Mr I Don’t Teach.”

“He’s my fucking protege. That shit’s different!”

“Shit!” Angus agrees cheerfully.

“Whatever. Now that I know you’re secretly a fountain of knowledge, I’m dragging you in here the next time I fuck up a recipe.” She studies him for a moment, and adds, “You don’t have to cook, Teach. If it bothers you. I just…I need help sometimes.

Taako feels himself relenting. This house is turning him into a fucking pushover.

“I know, Cat,” he sighs. “Try to find one person who doesn’t.”

“Alright, little man,” Taako says, tugging Angus’ collar straight. “What are the rules?”

“Hold your hand, don’t talk to strangers, aim for the eyes if I can reach them, knees if I can’t,” his boy recites gravely.

Next to him, Ezra stifles a snort of laughter. Boniface, waiting by the loaded carriage, looks reluctantly amused. Catherine says, “Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to give you a kid?”

“Uh, your boss,” Taako says without looking at her. He stands up from his crouch as the front door closes, and they all turn as McDonald comes down the steps to join them in the crumbly courtyard.

“Are we ready, boys?” he asks with a smile. “Neverwinter is waiting.”

Honestly, Taako has been sick with dread over this trip for the past two weeks, but he wouldn’t know how to go about explaining that. And he sure as hell isn’t sending Angus off alone with his absent-minded grandfather. The kid probably wouldn’t make it home.

It’s not as though Taako has been sequestered in the manor house for the last five years. He’s ambled into the settlement with the girls now and then, has gone farther up the road to buy from caravans for Candlenights gifts, has let himself be bullied, cajoled, blackmailed and bribed into helping Boniface lug imported plants home from the train station.

But this is fucking Neverwinter. The Jewel of the North.

“Taako? You okay?” Angus says from somewhere near his elbow.

“Just dreading three hours on the road playing I, Spy with you, boychik,” he lies smoothly. “Go pet the horses so we can get that out of the way.”

Angus looks mulish for a moment, but he does insist on petting the carthorses before they take the carriage literally anywhere, so he lifts his head and crosses the courtyard with great dignity. Taako watches sharply until Boniface rolls his eyes so hard Taako can practically hear it and hefts Agnus up in one huge arm to better reach the giant creatures without running the risk of getting fucking trampled.

“I’m making the salmon at home tonight,” Catherine says abruptly, a non-sequitur that takes Taako by surprise. “If I don’t fuck it up, I’m gonna cook it here, too. So don’t be late, Teach.”

“I’ll a hundred percent eat your share if you’re late,” Ezra adds. Her smile looks a little strained.

Taako has not been subtle. He’s been freaking out right out loud where anybody could see it. Get it together, asshole, he coaches himself helpfully.

“Cat,” he says earnestly, “your salmon is literally the only thing I have to live for.”

She groans and pushes him away from her. Angus has finished with the horses and returns to Taako at a run, even though they’re all going to be walking back across the courtyard to the carriage in like one minute anyway.

McDonald is handing out a few last minute instructions. They’re mostly things that have already been taken care of, errands that have already been run, the ushe. The girls nod along politely, but there’s a level of uncertainty lingering above them like a cloud. They look as nervous about Taako leaving as Taako feels.

Now, Taako is many things—an elf, a failed chef, a murderer, a dime-store wizard, and one lucky nanny—but he is not some mercurial fairy tale creature. He’s not going to vanish from their lives the second they lose sight of him. He could if he wanted to, and he will if he has to, but he doesn’t want to. For now, he doesn’t have to.

So he lifts a hand and says, “Back soon.”

But for some reason, it fucking hurts.

The trip is about everything he expected it would be: long and boring. Angus gets bored with I, Spy within about ten minutes, the interior of the carriage is a little too tight to practice his cantrips, and Boniface seems to be aiming for the roughest parts of the road on purpose. Taako tries reading aloud from one of the Caleb Cleveland books, but McDonald keeps interrupting every time they get to the good, mysterious parts, so Angus and Taako trade a loaded glance and wordlessly agree to save it for later.

Still, it’s not awful. Angus at six years old is bright-eyed and relentlessly clever. He wants to be a detective like Caleb, and has taken to solving little mysteries around the manor house, like who left the jam out on the counter (Taako, and what are you going to do about it, pumpkin?) and who tracked the mud inside the undercroft (Boniface, obviously, that’s where all the booze is, and he literally works in mud all day. You didn’t have to put on your detective cap for that one).

Needless to say, Taako would burn the whole world down for this kid.

With no choice but to spend time in his grandson’s company, Taako can see Angus’ innate charm going to work on McDonald. There’s something wistful in the old man’s eyes, affectionate and more than a little bittersweet. He stops interrupting as Angus starts to describe his latest case in great detail—the mystery of the missing tarts!

The tarts are wrapped up and waiting in Taako’s bag for when they inevitably get snacky during the trip, but he's not going to tell. He kinda wants to see how far the kid takes this one.

By the time they board the train, Angus is tuckered out. The excitement of a trip so far from home is wearing off after hours in a carriage, and Taako ends up carrying him into their sleeper car and putting him to bed in one of the bunks.

McDonald takes a seat at the small table and watches without commentary as Taako extracts the boy’s hat and glasses and wand without waking him, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. And then, out of habit more than anything else, he murmurs the only Elven blessing he remembers, quite literally ‘sweet dreams.’ He remembers Auntie saying it to him, and…someone else, maybe? He remembers that it always made him feel loved to hear it.

“Hiring you was the best thing I could have done for him,” McDonald says suddenly.

Taako turns with a trademark smile on his face, only as charming as it needs to be. “Hiring me was the best thing you ever did, period.”

His boss smiles back, but there’s an edge to it that Taako can’t translate. This is the most present and aware he’s looked in the last five years. Taako isn’t sure he’s ever had this much of McDonald’s attention.

“There’s another reason I wanted to take the two of you with me this week,” he says.

It’s ominous as fuck, and as the train lurches into motion, pulling away from the station, Taako realizes that he’s effectively trapped here, in a way he never was at the manor house. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because McDonald’s smile warms a bit, and he gestures at the other chair.

“It’s a good thing, son. No need to be nervous.”

Taako sits in an irreverent collapsing of limbs to prove that he isn’t nervous, actually. McDonald pulls a bunch of papers out of his briefcase and sets them on the table. They look official as fuck. McDonald’s signature at the bottom draws Taako’s eye—huh, so that’s his first name. After this long, it would have felt a little awkward to ask. Beneath that is the signature and seal of a notary.

“What am I looking at here, Charlie?”

McDonald’s lips twitch. He probably cottoned onto the name thing.

“Well, this isn’t an easy conversation to have, and I probably could have picked a better time for it, but.” He glances over Taako’s shoulder at where Angus is sleeping. “It’s probably better if the boy doesn’t overhear until it’s sorted.”

“I hear ya. That little bugbear is all up in everyone’s business all the time,” Taako says proudly. “Just the worst.”

“He’s amazing,” McDonald says. That sorrow swims into his eyes now, an ancient, ruinous thing. “He reminds me of my daughter every time I look at him.” Oh. “It’s been…hard to look at him sometimes.” Oh.

Taako carefully reevaluates his opinion of Angus’ absent grandfather. Not too much, because the dude still should have been around, but, you know. Some.

Taako tries to imagine losing somebody, how much it must hurt. He tries to imagine looking like somebody, a family resemblance, a belonging at face-value. He’s never experienced either, but there’s still a bitter pit in his throat, a feeling like if he swallows too hard he’ll start to cry. So he sits very still instead.

“But still, he’s my only grandson, and I want him to be taken care of when I’m gone,” the man goes on. “I’m getting on in years, and I probably don’t have much longer left—oh, Taako. It’s alright.”

Taako is certain he didn’t move. He’s still doing the sitting-very-still thing. Then he realizes his ears betrayed him, pressed back flat against his head. Goddamn things.

“No, it’s uh. Taako’s good, don’t. Just.”

It’s the human age thing. He doesn’t want to think about it. He waves McDonald on, a tight rolling gesture. They really need to power through the rest of this conversation while Taako still has enough self-control left to not do something really embarrassing in front of his boss, like have a whole emotion.

McDonald takes pity. Thank fuck.

“It’s normal to want to get your ducks in a row,” he says. “I’m not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon.”

“Alright, let’s organize these ducks,” Taako says with unwarranted enthusiasm. He’s trying to trick himself into it. “Fucking ducks, am I right?”

“Angus is my heir. When he’s of age, he’ll get the estate and everything that goes with it, as well as his parents’ properties,” McDonald says, once again reminding Taako that he’s a rich old fuck. Istus. “But that’s still more than a decade away. If something should happen to me, I don’t want him to end up a ward of the state.”

Taako blinks. In the back of his mind, he realizes that he has become one of those elves that would one-thousand-percent kidnap a human baby if it came down to it. Leave Agnes in an orphanage? His Agnes? It would literally have never occurred to him.

“Custody cases can be so long-winded. The easiest way to circumvent the whole mess would be to adopt you into the family,” McDonald says, super nonchalant about flipping the world upside down. “That way Angus has an immediate next of kin that no one would question.”

He looks up when Taako doesn’t say anything and frowns at whatever Taako’s face must look like.

“You don’t have to use the surname if you don’t want to. It’s mostly just for the sake of paperwork.”

“I can’t,” Taako blurts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t insist that you change your family name if it’s important to you—”

“Not—not that, who gives a fuck about my family name,” Taako says too loudly. Angus shifts around for a second, like he might wake up, and Taako snaps his mouth closed so hard it hurts his teeth. In a whisper, because it’s all he can manage without giving into the urge to scream, Taako forces out, “I—I’m—I can’t.”

In the nightmare scenarios that still sometimes plague him in the middle of the night, when everyone else is asleep and he’s alone with the voice in his brain that fucking hates him, the choices always boiled down to either leaving Angus behind or taking him on the run. Both choices were fucking awful for a myriad of different reasons, and left Taako pacing his room tirelessly trying to think his way out of an unsolvable problem.

The idea that he could become a legal part of Angus’ family as simply as signing a piece of paper is so far-fetched and ridiculous that he can’t wrap his mind around it.

But bringing all his shit into Angus’ life? Signing up for this only to get snatched away the second the paperwork goes through and the militia finally finds him? Leaving his dirty laundry all over the front yard like the worst fucking house guest imaginable, and then peacing out to spend the rest of his long-ass fucking elf life in jail, while Angus was left to just…deal with that?

He couldn’t. He can’t. Every single option is bad. He shouldn’t have stayed. He should have known he would fall in love with that baby on day one. It’s really fucking stupid that he stayed.

“—aako. Taako.”

Taako jerks his head up. His ears are twitching and his hands are shaking and McDonald has probably been saying his name for awhile.

The man’s eyes are bright and steely. They look exactly like Angus’ do sometimes, when he wakes Taako up from a miserable meditation, when it’s just the two of them in a huge house surrounded by a crumbling garden.

“Tell me,” the man says sternly.

At a fucking complete loss, Taako just…does.

When he’s finished, McDonald looks at him really hard for what feels like a long time. Then he pulls a pair of reading glasses out of an inner pocket of his coat, poises the business end of a fountain pen against a fresh sheet of paper, and starts asking questions.

It’s a business-like, no-nonsense exchange. Taako is wiped out, emotionally he is the equivalent of a damp rag wrung out to dry, and he has no wherewithal left to lie or deny or deflect.

When they’re done, McDonald has filled three notebook pages of blocky handwriting, and Taako is swaying in his seat. He watches somewhat vacantly as McDonald nods to himself and rummages in his briefcase for a stone of farspeech.

“We won’t reach Neverwinter until morning. Get some sleep,” he says, and his voice is kindly again, the way it was before. Taako stares at him. “And don’t tell me elves don’t need it, please. I wasn’t born yesterday, and you nap twice as much as my grandson ever did.”

Well, it would be nice to get one last unnecessary snooze in as a free man, Taako supposes, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb into Angus’ bunk. It’s a familiar ritual. The kid squirms to accommodate him without fully waking. Taako tucks an arm around him and buries his nose in that riot of curly hair.

He hears McDonald say, “You’re not much more than a kid yourself, are you?” but that might have just been part of a dream.

He hears someone else say, “That can’t be broken or lost or taken away, it’s always going to be so important,” but Taako thinks that, whoever that was, they were very clearly wrong.

Taako wakes up to a six-year-old’s warm brown eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners in an urchin sort of way, and it’s the only tell Taako needs. His kid has been up to some mischief.

“Grandpa said you were tired and I should let you sleep,” Angus reports cheerfully. “He also said that there was a nice lady selling flowers a few cars down, and I ought to go buy a few!”

Ah. Taako glances down at the ruin of his hair. It looks like about a hundred snowberry blossoms were worked into the thick flaxen braid. It’s going to be an absolute pain to brush out later. He’ll probably find bits of plant in his hair for days. He loves it.

He risks a glance in McDonald’s direction.

The man looks amused by their whole general existence, which is fair. He also doesn't look like he's about to summon the guard to have Taako hauled into the brig, which is a fucking relief and a half.

“The world changed while you were asleep,” he says significantly. “Would you like to sign the papers now or with your pardon?”

Angus says, all in one breath, “You should sign the papers first! Grandpa says then you’ll be my family! I mean, you already are, so I’m not sure what the point is, but it must be important. Look at how official they are!”

Taako feels about four cups of coffee behind this conversation. He scoots off the bed, spilling into one of the chairs at the table, and folds his hands.

“Charlie. Buddy.”

“I stepped out for two minutes,” McDonald says defensively, “and I thought he was asleep!”

“That’s the oldest trick in the book,” Taako mutters. His heart is doing something really complicated and largely unnecessary, fucking backflipping in his chest, at Angus’ thoughtless ‘you already are.’ Like it was a given. What the fuck. “Can you go back to, uh—the world changing? A pardon? What’s up with that?”

“An old friend of mine is a cleric,” he says pushing a steaming cup in Taako’s direction. “Level nine, or thereabouts. She owed me a favor from when we were in school together, when I—well, that’s not important. What is important is that she was happy to cast Discern Location to find your old stage manager.”

Taako fumbles the cup, almost drops it. He sets it down hard.

“What the fuck? No, hold that thought. Angus, I love you. Get lost.”

He’s really banking on the kid being more stir-crazy than curious, and sure enough, Angus hops right off the bunk and sprints for the door.

“Okay, I’ll be in the dining car! You’re not s’posed to take food back with you, but I’m gonna see how many pastries I can fit in my pockets so you won’t be hungry when you sign the papers that make you my family! Love you, bye!”

“A three-hour carriage ride followed by six hours on a train was the worst fucking idea,” Taako says severely. “He’s gonna be on eleven when we roll up to Neverwinter. They might not let us in.”

“He’s just excited,” the old man says, with the tranquility of someone who isn’t going to have to child-wrangle all day long. “I told him I had good news for you.”

Taako is fidgeting, turning the cup of coffee around and around in his hands. It’s leaving a ring of condensation on the table.

“You found Sazed?” he asks, and hates how small his voice sounds.

“We did.”

“He probably hates me,” Taako mutters. “I ruined his life.”

McDonald takes the cup from him and sets it down on the other side of the table with a firm clunk.

“Pardon my language, but you didn’t ruin crud.” Taako mouths ‘crud’ in bewilderment, but McDonald isn’t finished. “I was suspicious of your story when you described the way those people died. Those aren’t the typical symptoms of deadly nightshade, and I’d never heard of a transmutation spell failing in that way before. So I looked into it. Or, I should say, I had a few friends look into it.”

“Are you in a cult?” Taako asks. He can’t help it. He’s one part genuinely curious and two parts hardwired to deflect any time someone tricks him into having a serious conversation. “We frown on cults in this family. Mysterious shadow organizations are never a good thing, no matter what greater-good shit they’re peddling.”

“I’m very rich and belong to very elite social circles,” McDonald says dryly. He’s unmoved by Taako’s general everything. “This whole thing took about three calls. I wish you would have told me about this five years ago, but I do understand why you didn’t.”

Taako doesn’t have a cup to fuck around with anymore. He stopped wearing jewelry when Angus was a baby and literally everything smaller than an apple was a choking hazard, and he never really got into the habit of it again, so he doesn’t have rings to twist around his fingers, either. He wrings his hands instead.

“If it wasn’t the elderberries,” he chokes out, and doesn’t make it any farther.

“It was arsenic,” McDonald says. His voice is kind again, but not so much so that it’s painful to hear. “Sazed was questioned within a Zone of Truth. He admitted to—okay,” he cuts himself off, putting a hand on Taako’s shoulder. “We’re done talking about it for now. Just take it easy.”

Taako doesn’t uncurl from his chair until the door rattles open and Angus’ voice fills the room. He’s found a dozen things to talk about in the ten minutes he’s been gone, and is very proud of himself for all the contraband pastries he managed to make off with. There’s a cheese danish wrapped very carefully in a napkin, only slightly squished, that he presents to Taako with a showy flourish that he really only could have picked up from too much time around one particular idiot.

Taako accepts the danish, and then hauls Angus up onto his lap, and then says, “Charlie, baby. Pass me that fancy pen.”

For the first time in almost eight years, Taako is cooking for an audience again. His hands are shaking, but as long as everyone else is politely pretending like they don’t notice, he can do himself the same favor.

I fed those people their death, but it wasn’t on me, he recites inwardly for the seven millionth time, a nervous mantra. My magic was good. My cooking was good. I was good. It wasn’t on me.

He looks up from the counter where all his tools are laid out and his ingredients are arranged. Ezra is bouncing in her seat, Boniface is lingering in the doorway like he doesn’t care but he also isn’t leaving, and Catherine’s eyes are wide and moonlike and younger than Taako has ever seen them. Angus has place of pride, a seat on the counter by the sink with the best view in the house.

“Okay,” he says. “What are the rules, pumpkin?”

“No swiping ingredients, no magic in the kitchen, and no taste-testing until you say it’s okay,” Angus rattles off promptly. “Autographs at the end of the show are three gold apiece, photos are ten, and the overall experience is absolutely priceless.”

Over the sweet sound of the rest of his audience groaning at him, Taako goes on blithely, “And what are we cooking today?”

“Macarons!”

“And who’s your dude?” Taako asks, pointing a whisk at him. Angus giggles, and Taako’s hands aren’t shaking anymore.

In a month, Angus is going off to a summer camp out past Rockport. It’s Caleb Cleveland-themed, and the whole thing sounds extremely nerdy and book-cluby, and Angus is desperately excited. He’s also desperately nervous about being away from his family for three whole weeks but he’s trying to keep that on the down-low. He’s very grown up at nearly ten years old.

Taako can respect that. He also bought the kid a stone of farspeech, because actually fuck that.

And while Angus is off having his first away-from-home adventure—since the girls think that Taako’s just going to be useless and mopey the whole time, and Boniface already threatened to bury him in a flowerbed the first time he whines about literally anything—Taako is going to go do something cool, too. There’s always some interesting jobs posted on Craig's List up in Neverwinter. He’ll be able to find something to occupy his time.

But for now, he’s gonna make some goddamn desserts.

“Come on, Ango,” Taako wheedles, “who’s your dude?”

“You, papa.”

I’m good, Taako reminds himself. He looks at his kid, who only deserves the best this piece of shit world has to offer, and thinks, I can be good.

#the adventure zone #taz balance #taako taaco #angus mcdonald #taz fic #my writing #better place #ladies i dunno but i gotta work in like 3 hours and i wrote this instead of sleeping

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spookysweet-heart · 3 years

Text

Dream Boy

Request: “Phantom x soulmate reader 👉🏼👈🏼 he’s one of my special interests”

Fandom: NateWantsToBattle

Parings: Phantom x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Gonna be honest here I wrote this while I was kinda out of it (lack of sleep) but the funny thing is, while I was looking for AUs to write I found one that relates to sleep. Dreams to be specific. Thank you to @the-real-comically-insane for requesting! The collage was made by me! Edited by @semiproeagle23

Ever since you were a kid, you’ve always had this dream about a boy. At first, you thought it was just your little mind making up a friend to play with while you were asleep. As you got older so did he, sharing experiences and stories of your days. The laughs, the crying, you grew up with this kid through it all.

The downside to this, besides being dreams, is that you’d always forget them as soon as you woke up. The only thing you’d remember was the boy, how he looked like and sounded, but you realized you could never remember his name either.

You were currently at the dining room table sketching out a portrait of the boy. Your roommate was passing by to get to the kitchen when they looked over your shoulder. “So this is the dream boy you’ve been telling me about? He’s really cute.”

You sighed as you looked up at them. “He is, but I just hate that I can’t remember anything but how he looks and sounds like.”

“Hey, c’mon, don’t think like that. Look, you’re gonna find him one day, everything’s gonna make sense when you do.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you poked their cheek. “Easy for you to say. You found your soulmate already.”

They ruffled your hair a bit, making you giggle. “Yeah, sounds easy, but it wasn’t. I was the same as you, frustrated, worried that I’d never find them. But then one day, I walked into my first lecture of the new semester and there they were, sitting in the middle rows.”

“I wish that could happen to me. Who even thought this would be a great idea, only seeing your soulmate in your dream and you have to try to find them in real life without even remembering their name??”

“I know, but you’ll be fine. Trust me. C’mon, let’s go out to eat dinner instead.”

“Was it your turn to make dinner tonight?” Standing up from the table, you looked over at them.

“Yes, but I don’t feel like cooking, so I’m offering to buy dinner. Same thing anyway, if you think about it.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Sitting their car in the parking lot of McDonald’s, you handed them their bag of food.

Taking it, they smiled over at you. “So, (Y/n).”

Raising an eyebrow at them, you drank some of your soda. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Melanie and I were wondering if you wanted to go down to LA for the weekend.”

“This weekend??”

“Yeah! We thought it would be fun!”

Taking a bite of your food, you thought about it for a second. “Why LA, of all places?”

“Why not? It just sounds like a fun little vacation. Plus it’s LA! We might meet a celebrity! How cool would that be??”

“Well, I guess you’re right. That would be pretty cool.”

“So does that mean you’re in?”

“Sure, sounds like fun, and I kinda need it after this semester.”

“Yes! A weekend getaway, here we come!”

Getting home after dinner, you were excited to get to bed. You were so excited to talk about your weekend plans with the dream boy.

Smiling to yourself as you got comfortable in your bed, you couldn’t help but giggle a little, feeling excited to see him again.

Feeling yourself drifting off to sleep, you let yourself relax as everything went black.

“Hey you, nice seeing you again.” Hearing a voice, you slowly opened your eyes and smiled when you saw him again.

“Hey,” taking his hand in yours, he helped you sit up. Looking around, you realized you two were sitting on a picnic blanket surrounded by a beautiful meadow. A light breeze passed, feeling cool on your warm skin. “I got some exciting news today.” Smiling and looking up at the sky, you noticed it’s a pretty pink color.

“Oh? Do tell!” He smiled down at you, seeing your eyes shine as you got excited.

“My roommate, their partner and I agreed to go on a road trip to LA this weekend and I’m honestly really excited. It’s been a while since I’ve had a little vacation. I think it’s gonna be fun!”

“Wait wait wait. LA? Like Los Angeles?”

“Yeah? Why?” You tilted your head, feeling a little confused.

“We won’t remember this anyway but. I live there...I live in LA!”

Blinking, it took you a second to process it, but when it hit you, you immediately tackled him into a hug. “No way!! That means...that means we have a chance!”

“It does! It really does!” Gently caressing your cheek, he leaned in, kissing you sweetly. “I hope it happens…”

“So do I…” Laying your head on his chest, you sighed, feeling relief. Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running through your hair.

Since that night, there had been this heavy feeling in your chest. You didn’t know why. You weren’t nervous or scared about the trip. You knew you were all prepared, but your roommate just said it was the nervousness of the unknown because you didn’t know exactly what could happen that weekend.

When the day finally came and you all arrived at the hotel, you noticed that that heavy feeling in your chest felt a little lighter, for some reason.

“Hey (Y/n)! Check it out, they have a club connecting to the lobby! Wanna check it out?” Your roommate was pulling at your sleeve in excitement.

“How about later? We should get settled into our rooms first.”

“You’re right...we can check it out after dinner.”

“For sure! I mean, it does look like people are enjoying themselves.”

“Drinks will be my treat tonight, alright? You buy tomorrow night’s.”

“Alright- wait a minute, I never agreed that I’d drink!”

Your roommate only laughed as they made their way to the elevator with their partner.

“Excuse me? Your keycard's ready.” The lady at the front desk smiled at you, handing you the bright red card.

“Thank you so much.” Taking it, you picked up your bag and made your way to the elevator.

“Of course! Enjoy your stay!”

Feeling exhausted, you were happy to get into your room. Immediately after closing your door, you tossed your shoes off and laid down on the bed. Sighing a bit, you felt very relaxed on the soft bed. You were just about to let sleep seep through, but your phone ringing woke you up. Seeing that it was your roommate, you picked up the phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Wanna go explore?”

“I just took off my shoes…”

“Put them back on? C’mon, it’s the first day. I’ll buy you anything you want.”

“You’re already buying drinks tonight.”

“Yeah, so? C’mon, let’s go!”

Rolling onto your side, you pushed yourself up so that you were sitting up on the bed. “Alright, alright.”

“Yes!”

“I want lunch though…”

“I got it covered, Melanie knows a really good spot we could try.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in the lobby soon.”

Ending the call, you laid back down in bed. “Why can’t I say no…” Getting up, you slipped your shoes back on. Grabbing your phone, wallet, and keycard, you headed out of your room. Closing the door, you weren’t paying attention when you turned around to head down the hall, and accidentally bumped into someone, making you drop your keycard. Before you can pick it up yourself, the other person beats you to it. “Sorry about that-”

When you two looked at each other, your eyes widened as your mind was suddenly flooded with memories of your dreams.

“(Y/n)?”

“Phantom?”

“It’s you! Holy shit, it’s really you!”

Phantom wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug.

Hugging back, you smiled while taking everything in. “This is actually happening…”

“It is...Now that I remember...thinking this. I honestly didn’t think I’d see you this soon into your trip..”

“Weird right?” Pulling away, you smiled up at him. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I own this hotel. I assume you and your friends booked rooms here?”

“Yeah. Wait, you own this hotel??”

“Yes, it wasn’t easy, but this is my building.”

“That’s amazing I-” Feeling your phone vibrate in your hand, you saw it was your roommate calling. “I’m sorry, I kinda have to go. My friends are waiting.”

“Wait, um, before you do. Would you want to get dinner with me tonight?”

“I’d love that.”

“Great! I’ll pick you later then.” Phantom leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“I’ll see you later…” Your cheeks felt warm as he let go of your hand.

“See you later.” Phantom smiled, watching you disappear around the corner, feeling his heart flutter in his chest.

#Phantom #phantom nwtb #phantom natewantstobattle #natewantstobattle egos #battle boy #battle boys #battle egos #battle ego #YouTuber Egos #youtuber ego #x reader #reader insert

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kulaykape · 4 years

Text

Ina Kingsley x MC

Left Turns & Parallel Parking

A lil' one shot while I take a break from writing my mini-series. I wanted to get Lilian involved a little bit, but I'm still fleshing out her character, so I don't know what I'm going for with her yet.

I went along with @jenxespinoza's idea of Lilian being a neurosurgeon, which is briefly alluded to. And imma tag @sakaily bc they asked 😂😂 enjoy!

•••

"I'm really happy you came with Ina to see us, Ali," Lilian said as she and Aliyah walked to the parking lot, "Charlotte's been wanting to see Leon again for a while."

Aliyah smiled brightly. This was so domestic that it was disgusting… and she loved it. "No prob. Charlotte'll be a good big sister if you ever have another kid, by the way. Leon already likes her more than me," she replied. Which, ouch. But understandable, given Aliyah was 17 years older than him.

Lilian chuckled. "I'm sure he knows there's no replacing the person that raised him," she consoled, "I can't imagine how hard it was to, though. I had Charlotte my junior year of college, but you were 19 when you got custody of him?"

A frown ticked at Aliyah's lips, but she played it off and nodded. "Yeah. It was a whole… thing," she chuckled weakly.

'A whole thing' meaning dear ol' mom and her new man had damn near assaulted Aliyah after the trial. A quick follow-up for a restraining order was subsequent.

As Aliyah was starting to realize how wild her life was, 'cause holy shit, she and Lilian got to the parking lot. Ina had said she'd load the kids into Aliyah's car while the two of them finished cleaning up in Lilian's apartment.

"So where are we headed?" Aliyah asked.

Lilian hummed, a mannerism that Ina also had before answering any question. "Wherever the kids want to eat, I guess," she answered, "Thank god you drove here. I'm not partial to taking the subway with this many people in our group."

"Hm? Oh, no, Ina drove," Aliyah said as she pushed the metal door open with a loud squeal, "I don't usually let people drive Alicia around, but I consider it a stepping stone in a relationship." She smiled amusedly.

Ina had been curious as to why Aliyah's car was named after another woman, and since Aliyah gave her explanation, has developed an unreasonable jealousy of Alicia Keys.

Lilian stopped in her tracks while Aliyah continued walking towards her black sedan, engine already rumbling quietly a few yards away. "Wait, what?"

Aliyah turned to look back at Lilian, hands stuffed in her pockets. "What?" She asked, equally confused.

"You let- hold on," Lilian stalked towards the car and nearly had a stroke when she found none other than big sister dearest behind the wheel. Lilian knocked on the window of the passenger side and Ina lowered it as she began to sweat.

Lilian leaned through the now open window, and in her mom voice, said plainly, "No."

"Lil-"

"No, Ina. Not in a million years."

Aliyah shot a questioning look to Charlotte, who was sitting in the back with Leon. The seven year-old shrugged. "Uh… you want me to drive?"

"Yes."

"No. I drove here, I can drive us to the restaurant."

"We're getting McDonald's!" Charlotte called.

Ina looked into the backseat, frowning. "Are you sure? I was hoping we could get something a little more filling," she said, "What about you, Leon?"

"McDonald's," the five year-old proclaimed.

"McDonald's, Olive Garden, or Gordon Ramsey's restaurant, you are not driving us there," Lilian cut in. Aliyah opened her mouth to try and defend Ina, but Lilian's wrath was actually unnerving her.

"It's fine, Lilian," Ina insisted, the stubborn ass.

Lilian looked back at Aliyah, wordlessly begging her to take her side.

Aliyah, with her mouth hung open like a fish, was speechless. Should she side with Lilian and just drive to McDonald's, and then risk her girlfriend getting upset at her? Or should she side with Ina and then feel the wrath of a very protective mother?

"Uh…"

Unfortunately, decisiveness isn't one of Aliyah's strengths.

"Lilian, the last time you were in a car with me was years ago," Ina said, "I can drive just fine now."

Lilian let out a groan as she (very) reluctantly started to open the passenger door. "We're all going to die."

"Ah," Ina stopped her, a shadow of a smirk on her face and her finger held up, "You should sit in the back with the kids."

The younger sister's jaw dropped as Aliyah wheezed behind her. "You are the pettiest person I know, Ina Kingsley!" She exclaimed as she moved to the back seat instead, looking at Aliyah, "Make sure she doesn't get us all killed, please."

"Was she really that bad?" Aliyah asked, "I mean, she got us here just fine."

Lilian shuddered as a memory rolled over her, and she shook her head. "I'll tell you in the car," she replied, "Oh lord…"

Aliyah shrugged, before reopening the passenger door and smiling at Ina as she climbed in. "Hey, babe," she greeted, leaning forward to peck the Professor's cheek. Charlotte and Leon gagged dramatically. "Don't kill us all, okay?" Aliyah asked, patting Ina's cheek sardonically.

"I'll try my best," Ina replied with a chuckle as she switched gears and started pulling out of the parking garage, Lilian watching her like a hawk the entire way through. Ina glanced up at the rear view mirror, and stuck her tongue out at her little sister.

The car was quiet for a few moments on the road, save for the good-natured bickering between Charlotte and Leon (they were gonna be a trip when they were older, all the adults could tell). Lilian was silently trying to not have a heart attack in the backseat, and also not to think about Ina's nightmarish track record.

Traffic had begun to build up (it was New York, duh) and Ina slowly rolled to a stop behind the car in front of her. Lilian flinched nonetheless. "Ina!"

Aliyah tried not to snort as an exasperated look passed over Ina's face. "You're fine," she replied flippantly.

"Hm, funny, I remember you saying those exact words after you'd rammed mom's sedan into a light post," Lilian retorted, "And might I remind you, I was very much not fine."

This time, Aliyah couldn't help but guffaw. "You crashed into a light post?" Ina's face flushed red, and she kept her eyes stubbornly on the road.

"It was horrible," Lilian said. Ina's eyes met hers in the rear view mirror, silently begging her 'no'. Lilian smirked evilly. "And the worst part was, there was absolutely no reason for her to crash."

"Lilian-"

"It was like that one scene from Bob's Burgers where Tina slowly crashes into another car."

Aliyah guffawed once again, leaning her head on the dashboard while Ina seethed silently. Aliyah's shoulders shook as she sat upright once again, giving Ina the most shit-eating grin she had ever seen on her (which was saying a lot).

"You know, just 'cause you're a lesbian doesn't mean you have to try and embody every stereotype," Aliyah quipped, causing Lilian to snicker while Ina let out a sigh, "Also, that is the lamest stereotype you could've chosen."

"Wait, aunt Ina's lame?" Charlotte piped up. Ina made a sound like she was in pain.

Aliyah turned back in her seat, nodded, and mouthed 'yes' at the littlest Kingsley.

Something not unlike a low growl left the Professor's body as the light turned green and she realized she was babysitting children. She ignored both of the younger "adult" women in the car while they high-fived, and drove on.

With a flick of her wrist, Ina turned the left signal on and merged into the turning lane. She blew a shaky breath out of her lips that didn't go unnoticed by neither her sister nor girlfriend. Both looked suspiciously at her.

"What is it?" Lilian asked, voice shrouded in sweetness but actually lowkey very threatening.

Ina's eyes flicked to both of them for a moment then back to the road. "I… may not be particularly deft when it comes to left turns," she admitted.

"What, we didn't make any left turns on the way to her apartment?" Aliyah asked. Ina shook her head. Aliyah sighed. "Well, just make sure you turn the wheel in the right direction. Right meaning left. You know what I mean."

"Thank you, Ali," Ina said dryly.

"Of course, babe."

Leon squeezed his nose so his voice sounded nasally and high-pitched. "Of course, babe."

Aliyah threw her head back and laughed just as Ina started to make the turn, and doink.

"Ow! Jesus Christ, Ina!" Aliyah cradled the right side of her head after it bounced off the window from the sharpness of Ina's turn. Ina winced harshly while Leon started to snicker (Charlotte had the compassion to try and not to).

"Shit! I'm so sorry Ali, are you okay?" Ina reached a hand out to squeeze Aliyah's knee, but Aliyah scrambled to take it off and put it back on the wheel.

"Both hands on the wheel!" She exclaimed sternly. Ina shrank away sheepishly while Aliyah continued to rub her head.

"Good job Ina, you almost gave your girlfriend a concussion," Lilian quipped.

"You're next, Lilian Kingsley," was Ina's immediate reply. And Lilian knew damn well that her big sister didn't play around, so she stifled a very smart reply.

---

"Can we play music?" Charlotte asked once they were halfway to wherever the hell they were going, 'cause Aliyah was pretty sure they'd passed three different McDonald's by now.

"Sure, kiddo," Aliyah said as she grabbed the aux cord, "What do you want me to play?"

"Taylor Swift!" She exclaimed. Aliyah nodded (albeit a little reluctantly) and started to scroll through the infinite songs in her playlist.

"No, Eminem!" Leon said.

Aliyah threw her little brother a look as Ina and Lilian started to laugh. "The heck do you mean Eminem?" She demanded. The little boy shrank away sheepishly. Aliyah put on her stern voice. Not quite as good as Lilian's, but it'd do. "Leon, what've you been listening to?"

"Uh… Eminem?" Aliyah huffed before turning around and continuing to look for Taylor Swift on her playlist.

"What's your favorite song by Eminem, Leon?" Ina asked. Aliyah gave her an unappreciative look.

"Real Slim Shady!"

"Oh god," Lilian covered her face as she started to shake with laughter.

Leon and Charlotte started to chant the chorus to Real Slim Shady- and Aliyah was praying that was all they knew- while Aliyah scrolled furiously through her playlist. Ina tapped Aliyah's arm before she could get to the Tay-Tay portion of her playlist.

"Play Queen," Ina asked quietly.

"The kids aren't gonna like Queen," Aliyah replied.

"They need to learn culture," Ina retorted.

"If you want them to learn culture, then why are you asking for Queen?" Lilian said. Ina gasped as if her sister had just twisted a knife in her side. Aliyah nodded in agreement.

"You too?" Ina said, incredulous, "But you're a musician!"

"And you're an anthropologist," Aliyah said, unblinking, while Lilian laughed at her sister's expense. "You can talk about bones, and Neanderthals, and old sticks all you want, but I don't think music is your strong suit," she added with a smirk.

"Old sticks?" Ina repeated, this close to giving up on life, "What is it that you think my career entails again?"

"Old sticks," Aliyah said once again without missing a beat, "Like the ones at the museum you showed us."

"Those were the remnants of spears from the Middle Paleolithic era!" Ina exclaimed defensively. Aliyah tried not to let a guilty smile sneak onto her face, because the nerd in her had thoroughly enjoyed the impromptu date at the museum. But harassing Ina was still her favorite past time.

"You know, as far as I'm concerned, Lilian's the only real doctor in this car," Aliyah said, and Ina practically vibrated with irritation.

"Aw, that's very sweet of you, Ali," Lilian said. She was very familiar with the 'harass Ina until she pops a blood vessel' game, and she and Aliyah did a mental fist bump.

"But I thought aunt Ina's a doctor too," Charlotte said, thoroughly confused and have since forgotten about her music.

"I am a doctor," Ina huffed grumpily.

“A doctor of old sticks,” Lilian said. Ina pursed her lips and stayed very silent.

Aliyah squeezed Ina's arm as she started to shake with laughter. "Babe, we're just joking," she said. Ina threw her an unreadable look, before giving the brake pedal momentary a push. Aliyah jerked forward with a yelp while Lilian nearly screeched. The kids laughed, enjoying the rollercoaster simulation.

"Ina!" Lilian snapped.

"That's what you two get," she said simply, with the biggest, winningest smirk on her face as she drove on. The two of them grumbled nervously as Ina continued her drive down the highway, mentally brushing off her shoulders.

"Are we at McDonald's yeeeet?" Charlotte asked, "I'm hungry. I want nuggies."

"Nuggies won't fill you up," Ina replied, and Aliyah couldn't help but snort at Ina using the word 'nuggies'. "We're going to a restaurant on Fifth."

"…do they have nuggies?"

Ina sighed. "Charlotte, don't you want to eat something a little more… fulfilling than chicken nuggets?" She asked, "And what if Leon doesn't-"

"I want nuggies too," Leon chimed.

"Yeah, me too," Aliyah said. Ina glared at her and she began to snicker. "Okay, okay, just get us there, Professor." While the kids groaned in disappointment Ina switched gears into sixth and sped down the highway.

Eventually, they got onto Fifth Street, and back into the heavy congestion of the main roads. It was times like this that Aliyah missed growing up further down south, where you could actually drive instead of just starting and stopping every second.

Ina started to slow down by the sidewalk, next to a building with its name written in big, cursive, neon letters. Charlotte gasped dramatically. "I know this place! They have a chocolate fountain!" At that revelation, Leon started to grin as well. Ina smiled privately to herself as she rolled to a stop next to a parking spot.

Aliyah looked at her. "You know you have to park in the spot, right?" She quipped. Ina nodded.

"Yes, I'm aware," she let out a sigh and Aliyah's stomach dropped.

"...You can't parallel park either, can you?"

"How hard can it be?"

"Extremely, actually," Lilian interjected, "Aliyah, maybe you should-" Aliyah had already moved to open her door, but Ina stopped her.

"Stay in the car, I can do this," Ina said, the determination and pride riding on all of this in her voice. Aliyah found it ridiculous, and it showed in her face.

"Ina, if you dent my car," Aliyah switched to Spanish so that the kids couldn't understand, "No sex for a month." Lilian guffawed as Ina winced.

Charlotte cocked a brow in hilarious Kingsley fashion. "What'd she say, mama?" She turned to Lilian.

"Erm… she said that she won't let aunt Ina drive again," Lilian said, still snickering.

Ina breathed out a slow breath, trying her best to ignore Aliyah's steel gaze on her as she switched into reverse. There was a significant amount of room for her to work with between the two cars, but she didn't exactly have a driving record that inspired confidence.

She made damn sure that her glasses weren't going to fall off her face as she slowly started to back in, hands clenching the wheel tightly.

"Aunt Ina, are you okay?" Charlotte asked, causing Ina to jolt, "You look… uh… constipated." Aliyah once again found herself leaning her head against the dashboard while Ina's face flushed red.

"I'm fine, Charlotte," she said patiently, before refocusing on the parking spot. After a few more tense moments of an anxiety-ridden Ina and some death-staring from Lilian, the car was sitting nearly in the parking spot.

Ina took the key out of the ignition with a triumphant smile while Leon and Charlotte whooped (about the food, of course). "Wow. We're alive," Lilian said, grinning as she patted Ina's shoulder, "Aside from nearly giving Aliyah a concussion, not bad, sis." And in spite of the ever-apparent snark, Ina could hear a hint of pride in Lilian's voice. "I'll go take the kids inside," she added with a wink, before starting to load the kids out.

Aliyah chuckled as she watched Charlotte and Leon Naruto-run into the restaurant, Lilian trailing behind them. She reached over and squeezed Ina's hand, and the Professor turned to look at her just in time to catch a cheeky kiss squarely on her jaw.

"Ah!" She yelped with a chuckle, "I take it your ultimatum has been null and voided?"

"Honestly, I probably wouldn't have been able to uphold it," Aliyah said as she kissed Ina's nose, watching in amusement as it scrunched up, "But just so you know, I am driving us home."

Ina deflated in relief. "Thank god. I think I lost five years of my life just from this drive," she said. Aliyah chuckled as she squeezed Ina's thigh sympathetically. "Is your head okay? I'm so sorry about that…"

"It's fine," Aliyah said, rubbing her head subconsciously, "But you need to slow the hell down on those turns."

Ina nodded. "Noted for the next time I drive. Which will be in another few years," she smiled as Aliyah laughed, and leaned forward to catch her lips in a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry for being stubborn," she murmured against Aliyah's mouth, "I had to prove a point to Lilian."

Aliyah rolled her eyes as she tugged on Ina's lip playfully. "You're stubbornness almost earned me a concussion, but we're not gonna talk about that," Aliyah said as she gave Ina one more enthusiastic kiss on the lips, "Now c'mon. You drove us all the way here, let's go eat." Ina smiled as she got out of the car, and the two of them walked towards the restaurant, hand in hand.

~end~

#ina kingsley #professor kingsley #queen b #ina x mc

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yoon-kooks · 4 years

Text

Rule No.7

Pairing: BadBoy!Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, BadBoy!AU, Camping!AU, College!AU

Summary: During a camping trip for your nature seminar, you spend a day and night with Jung Hoseok despite how starkly different the two of you may seem. Based on your close observations, the resident bad boy comes equipped with seven unspoken rules…

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: one (1) brief mention of s-e-x

A/N: happy birthday @chiwoopsie !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 👼💖

Strong gusts of wind blow in your face as you attempt to read the paper instructions on how to pitch a tent. You’ve honestly never gone camping before, so everything is quite foreign to you. Still, you took it upon yourself to set up camp while the rest of the folks began to prepare supper.

It’s fine. You’re strong and independent. You can decipher the diagrams in the instructions and show the wind who’s boss. Everything’s fine.

Snap.

You really hope a twig just snapped and not one of your tent poles. Nope, it was definitely a tent pole.

For about twenty seconds, you just stare at the broken pole on the dirt. You must’ve stepped on it while being pushed back by the wind. That damn wind.

“What are you staring at?”

You whip your head around and nearly jump when you see darkness peering over your shoulder at the fallen pole. He may be wearing a casual white tee and jean shorts, but Jung Hoseok has always been a shroud of darkness and mystery to you. Especially with that bad boy reputation of his.

That doesn’t mean you aren’t intrigued by him though. In fact, it’s just the opposite.

“Don’t scare me like that, Hoseok,” you say. “And what are you doing here anyway? You’re supposed to be helping everyone else make dinner.”

“I’d rather not do all that team bonding shit with the rest of our class,” he shrugs before pointing out the broken pole again. “Besides, it looks like you could use some help here.”

“I was doing fine without you, you know.”

“You don’t even have anything set up yet.”

“Okay, Mr. Camping Expert, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me set it up then?” you giggle, handing him the paper instructions.

“A rookie mistake is relying on the instructions.” He tears the instructions up right in front of your face. “Pitching a tent should be intuitive.”

“If you say so…” You squat down to watch Mr. Camping Expert get to work. Before you know it, the broken pole is fixed and a whole ass tent is popped up and ready to go.

“Were you following along?” he puts you on the spot.

“Totally,” you lie. You would’ve been paying closer attention if he hadn’t moved so quickly without explanation. “Actually, can you show me again step by step?”

“You’re hopeless, Y/N,” he sighs but walks over to your pile of untouched tent equipment.

“I’m not hopeless,” you nudge him with your elbow. “You’re just good at everything, Hoseok.”

“I know,” he snickers at you. As much as you want to call him out for his arrogance, you don't have much evidence that suggests otherwise. For as long as you’ve known Hoseok, he’s always been quite smart, handsome, and for lack of a better word, good with his hands.

Rule #1: A bad boy never shows any sign of weakness.

After struggling to get your first tent up, the several others that follow come with more ease thanks to Hoseok’s guidance. In no time, all of the tents are assembled.

“Are they still cooking?” you look down the east side of the river. Sure enough, the rest of your class is still trying to start a proper campfire without the help of a lighter. You’re not one to be impatient, but setting up all those tents did get your stomach growling.

“Someone’s hungry,” Hoseok teases. “Should we slip away?”

“And go where?”

The boy points in the opposite direction of your class, toward the west side of the river. He starts walking in that direction, somehow knowing you’d follow him.

“Are you going to catch a fish for me?” you jog up to Hoseok. You don’t know why, but that sounds oddly romantic to you.

He chuckles at your innocence. “No, but you can get a Filet-O-Fish from the local McDonald’s over here.”

You make the surprised Pikachu face. “But we’re probably supposed to stay-”

“We don’t always have to play by the rules, Y/N.” He tilts his head at you with a smirk. “Are you coming or not?”

As hungry as you are, there’s something else that lures you in. You want to know Jung Hoseok. You want to know why you know so little about him. So you tag along.

Rule #2: A bad boy is always right, even when he’s wrong.

“So what are you gonna tell the professor when we get back?” You take a healthy bite of your Filet-O-Fish.

“That’s my question for you, Y/N.” The boy leans over and snags one of your fries. “Think carefully.”

“I’ll just say I was babysitting the resident bad boy, Jung Hoseok,” you giggle.

“Try again,” he says, though your comment did elicit the tiniest smirk from him.

“We could say I was brought to the point of exhaustion after setting up those tents and I needed something in my stomach ASAP.” That technically wouldn’t be lying.

Hoseok shakes his head, “I swear, you’re too pure for your own good.”

“Well, there needs to be somebody to balance out your nonconformist tendencies.”

“Is that the real reason why you tagged along? To make sure I stayed out of trouble?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just think you’re an intriguing species.”

“Species…?”

“Yeah, a bad boy.”

“Can you please stop calling me that? It’s nauseating.” Hoseok gets up and heads for the exit. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

“Wait, Hoseok,” you say as you throw the remainder of your meal back into the bag to save for later. As soon as you catch up to him, you have to ask, “If you’re not a bad boy, then what are you? You’re not exactly a saint, you know.”

“I’m just not an easy person to get along with,” he sighs.

“But I-”

“You get along with everyone, Y/N.” He walks further ahead of you as the tents come back in sight. “That’s part of your charm.”

No, he’s wrong.

Thankfully when you return to the campsite, no one thinks twice about where you might have strolled off to. You’re a responsible and good kid after all.

“Hey, Y/N, I was looking all over for you,” one of your classmates waves over to you. “The professor said we get to pick our tent buddy. Wanna be mine?”

You glance over to the lonely Hoseok sitting down by the river. There’s no way in hell he’d willingly share a tent with any of your classmates. But if he had to choose, maybe you were the safest option. “Actually, I already promised Hoseok…”

“Hoseok?” Your classmate widens her eyes. “I didn’t know the two of you were so close. You guys seem like complete opposites to me.”

“Yeah, he helped me set up all of the tents,” you praise the boy from afar. He deserves as much credit as you do. “Did you know he-”

“Is that McDonald’s?” Another classmate jogs up to you and points at your greasy bag.

“Ah, yeah…” You feel a bit bad that you’re one of two people not eating the curry that the rest of your classmates cooked. “You guys can share it if you want.”

“Thanks, Y/N! You’re the best!” They skip away with the McDonald’s as though they had just won the lottery. You, on the other hand, have lost your appetite.

As the sun begins to set, you find Hoseok still staring out toward the river while everyone else gathers around the campfire. He’s always been a lone wolf, and part of you wonders if it’s intentional or not.

“Are you always this solitary?” You plop down next to the boy on the log.

“Are you always this needy?” He throws back at you.

“No, but I did want to ask you something important,” you ignore his teasing. “Do you want to share a tent with me?”

“No thanks.”

“Can you at least pretend like you put some thought into it?” You’re highkey offended with how quickly he came to that conclusion. “I already told everyone we’re paired together.”

“Of course you did,” Hoseok shakes his head before stealing a peek at you for a reaction. “But I suppose it’s fine. Because if I had to pick one classmate to sleep with, it’d be you.”

Your surprised Pikachu face comes out once more. This time, your cheeks are also red like the Pokémon’s.

“I’m kidding, Y/N, really.” He raises his hands up in defense as you square up. You jab his hands twice for good luck.

“So you really don’t mind if we share a tent?” you ask.

“I don’t mind being around you,” he says. “You’re tolerable.”

Rule #3: A bad boy never admits his true feelings.

“Should we go get situated in our tent then?” You stand up and stretch out your limbs. The sun is just about to go down and you’d much prefer to continue the conversation in the comfort of your tent than in total darkness out there.

“You can go ahead. I’ll meet you there later.” He gives you a wave goodbye to reaffirm the fact that he needs some alone time. Without you.

Rule #4: A bad boy always keeps his distance.

“O-okay,” you back off. “I’ll leave the lantern here with you, though, so don’t forget it on your way back!”

As you make your way back to your assigned tent, you pass by the line of lively, lit-up tents filled with fun and laughter. In fact, your tent at the end is the only one with the lights out. Not that you mind too much, but part of you does long for the company of a friend.

If you’re “tolerable,” why does he push you away?

No, you’re just as guilty as he is.

“Knock, knock! Y/N, it’s us.” Several of your classmates wave from outside your tent. If not for the label on their lantern, you’d have no idea who they are.

You crawl over, unzip your tent door, and give them a tiny wave hello.

“A bunch of us are going to play Truth or Dare if you want to join in.”

You put on a smile. “It’s been a long day and I’m a bit sleepy, so I’ll have to pass. But thanks for the invite!”

“Okay, goodnight, Y/N!” They zip the tent back up for you and head back into the fun and games of the tent next door. And just like that, your opportunity to escape the solitude comes and goes. You really do appreciate the invite, when your peers reach out to you, and yet, you push them away just as Hoseok does.

After unrolling your sleeping bag, you lie down on top of it in the dark. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let Hoseok keep the lantern with him. Especially when the dark can be a lonely place.

Suddenly, a floating light catches your eye from outside the tent. You watch curiously as the illumination grows. Once it’s around the size of a glowing head, it hangs around for several minutes as you stare.

“Hoseok?” You’re 99% sure it’s your tent buddy being weird. He doesn’t say anything, but the light flinches as if he’s been caught. “Are you trying to peep at me?”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “I’ve been looking for the zipper for the past five minutes, but it’s kind of dark, you know.”

You pick yourself up and unzip the tent for a second time. Sure enough, Hoseok is crouched down with the lantern in hand. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

“I didn’t think you were in the tent.”

“Where did you think I was?” you laugh, gesturing for him to enter your shared home for the night.

“In another tent? Hanging out with everyone else?” He sets the lantern down in the middle of the tent.

“They came and asked me.” You plop back down on your sleeping bag. “But I turned them down.”

Hoseok raises his eyebrows, as if this comes as a shock to him. Surely he’d been under the impression that you were the social butterfly of the class.

“So you’ve just been lying here in the dark this entire time?” The boy unrolls his own sleeping bag and takes a seat facing you.

“Basically.”

“If I had known that…” His words trail off until they’ve become inaudible.

“Huh?” You turn your attention to the boy. His face has a soft radiance you’ve never noticed before. Perhaps it’s the fluorescence of the lantern, or perhaps it’s not.

“Nothing.”

“That sounded like something to me, Hoseok.” You push yourself up into a cross-legged position with your chin propped up by your hands.

He sighs because he knows you aren’t going to let him off the hook without an explanation. “If I had known you were just lying here like a fool, I would’ve come back sooner. That’s all.”

You blink at him with a puzzled expression. “What were you even doing all this time?”

“The same as you,” he chuckles, “Nothing.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment. He really sat all alone in the dark because he didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want to hold you back from your other friends in the class. That much you understand.

The funny thing is, you don’t really have anyone you consider a friend in this seminar. Your classmates might gravitate toward that friendly smile you wear, but truthfully, you’ve always struggled to make a connection beyond that. It’s as though you’re everyone’s friend, but no one is yours. That’s why you, too, were sitting all alone in the dark.

“We’re more similar than you think, Hoseok,” you yawn, curling back up. “You and I are both solitary creatures.”

“Is that why you volunteered to set up the tents all on your own?”

You nod. “And I would’ve gotten away with it too if it weren’t for you, Mr. Camping Expert.”

“My bad.”

“No worries. It’s like you said,” you glance at him before closing your eyes. “You’re tolerable to be around.”

“Right, you’re… tolerable.” You hear him lie down and get comfortable on his sleeping bag.

More silence.

“Hoseok, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“When are you going to drop the facade?”

“What facade?”

“The one that nauseates you.” The bad boy one.

He pauses to get his response some thought. “When you earn it.”

Rule #5: A bad boy plays hard to get.

“You’re doing it again,” you giggle yourself awake and sit upright once more. You see through it. You don’t know how, but you do. Your long day of observing the bad boy phenomenon must have taught you a thing or two.

“What do you want from me?” He does what sounds like a cross between a sigh and a chuckle.

You turn the light out, blinded by the darkness and trust that is Jung Hoseok. “I want you to make a move.”

The boy shuffles around on his sleeping bag, probably pondering in thought. To make a move or not to make a move? That is the question.

“Fine,” he finally says.

Rule #6: A bad boy always accepts a challenge.

“You’re more than tolerable. And I like your company.” His voice gets louder ever so slightly as he closes the gap. “Does that move satisfy you?”

You nod and smile to yourself. “I like your company, too.”

When you swear the boy is sitting right in front of your face, you stay silent and still to see what he’ll do next. For a while, he just sits there. His slow breaths tickle your skin.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

Two soft lips just barely graze yours before planting a solid kiss on your cheek. A very smooth move indeed.

“I found you,” he pinches your cheek in victory.

“Leave it up to the bad boy to plant a kiss on my cheek in total darkness but not find the tent zipper with a lantern.”

“For the last time, I’m not a bad boy.” From the way he ruffles your hair and pats your head, you almost believe him. Almost.

“What are you then?” you prompt him with the same question as before.

“I’m not an easy person to get along with,” he says softly. “But you can be the exception.”

Rule #7: A bad boy can disregard all other rules around those he cares about.

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violetsbaudelaire-archive · 3 years

Text

Title: The Cloud That Took the Form of a Demon In My View - Chapter One

Fandom: Julie and the Phantoms

Relationships: Background Julie Molina/Luke Patterson

Summary: After the death of her mother and the demonic possession of her father, Julie Molina hunts the supernatural with her best friend Flynn. She pursues a nomadic life until a string of suspicious bathtub electrocutions draws her back home to hunt down a ghost. (Supernatural AU)

It had been a 13-month search and nothing had come of it. Nothing pertaining to the being Julie and Flynn were looking for. They had found and removed varying other supernatural beings but not their target, a demon whose name neither girl knew. Julie was sitting at a desk in a cheap hotel, one of many in the months that had passed. She was looking at the odd happenings around the country as she always did hoping to find a lead on their demon. Where one odd occurrence happened, another wasn’t too far behind and demons usually loved to get into trouble. Flynn had gone out to buy fast food breakfast and hadn’t come back yet. It wasn’t long enough to worry most people but it worried Julie. She tried to logic her way out of worry as she scrolled. There’s probably a long line. There’s always a long line to get coffee before work.

Just as she repeated those thoughts to herself again, she found an article. To most, it could be ruled off as an accidental bathtub electrocution. The problem was this was the third this week, all in the same city: her hometown, Los Angeles. She sighed and minimized the page. They were close to Arizona, a little while from LA but they had no intentions of returning. At least, not until the demon inhabiting her father’s body could be found. If the demon even still had it, Julie thought to herself macabrely. She shook it off. Her dad was still alive, full of demon or not.

The door swung open and caused Julie to jump out of her skin. Her hand instinctively flew to the cross necklace she had started wearing with her other jewelry since her dad’s possession.

“Sorry I’m late,” Flynn said, balancing a bag of food and a cup holder in her hands, “There was a long line at McDonalds.”

Julie dropped her hand.

“Are you okay?” Flynn asked when she saw her friend’s face. She put the food on the table and came closer to Julie. “Was there something in here?”

Julie shook her head. “You scared me coming in.”

“Ghosts and demons don’t use doors,” Flynn said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, well, someone possessed by them might. Or maybe a witch, vampire, werewolf, or something else.”

“Anything that comes in here has a death wish. We’re the most badass hunters in America.”

“Yeah,” Julie said, as if trying to convince herself. Then, she added more confidently, “We are.”

“Anyway, did’ya find anything?”

“Yeah. Ghost in LA.”

“Are you ready to go back there, Jules?” Flynn asked softly.

“I think so. Besides, it’s been awhile since our last ghost.”

Flynn didn’t look entirely convinced. “It’s okay to not take this one. Someone else will get it.”

“No, it’s okay. We won’t be there long.”

“You’re not going to see your aunt and Carlos?”

“I’m not ready for that conversation.”

Flynn nodded. “Are we going after breakfast? Or?”

“Yeah, after breakfast.”

Los Angeles was a strange place for Julie. It was her home but it was also the place where she had lost everything she ever had. Returning reminded her of this but also of failure. It reminded her of the empty seats at her graduation. Going home meant she had to accept that her and her little brother were orphans now - not without loved ones but faced with a loneliness that could never end. Julie had to find her father, not just for herself but for Carlos.

Flynn opened the bag and divvied up their breakfast. Julie pushed her food closer and began to eat, trying to find the bright side of this situation. Flynn was the first to come to mind. Even if the world turned against her, Flynn would be by her side. Her mother, though passed on, was still a bright side. Nothing, not even permanence of death could take her memories of joy and music that they had shared. The possibility of her dad being out there was a bright side. With this in mind, Julie finished her breakfast with her mind more at ease.

Flynn wasn’t the best driver but she liked to drive nonetheless. Julie was the more capable driver but she was a better navigator. She found it easier to navigate when she wasn’t avoiding drivers worse than Flynn on the road. Being the navigator also meant choosing the music and Julie wanted something upbeat for the road. California had gotten so far from her and Flynn that it would be a day or two before they reached it. It was the longest road trip with few stops they had gone on in awhile. Flynn turned the key in the ignition and Julie scrolled through her playlists. She found a song and selected it just as Flynn pulled out of the parking lot.

At some point Julie had fallen asleep. She blinked as she took in her surroundings. “Where are we? Flynn, I was supposed to be navigating.”

“It’s okay. I’m handling it,” said Flynn. “You barely slept at all in the last motel. You needed sleep.”

“Thanks.”

After a minute, she added, “I should drive. You need sleep too.”

Flynn shook her head. “I had a Redbull.”

Julie gave her friend a look. “Flynn.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll pull over,” Flynn said and she did. Seat belts unbuckled and they switched places. Almost as soon as Julie pulled off the shoulder, Flynn was asleep. Julie looked amusedly at her friend. She drove until the sun rose again and they were just outside Arizona.

Then it was a quick stop at a gas station to buy a less than satisfactory breakfast. It was time like these Julie missed her mom especially. It was Saturday morning and in a time that was starting to feel like an old movie, she would be watching cartoons with a much younger version of her brother and eating a fresh, hot breakfast her mother had made.

“I said that’ll be 10.50,” the cashier said irritably. He was the usual sort someone would see at a gas station in the middle of practically nowhere: some old man whose love of life was fading faster than his hair.

“Sorry,” Julie said quickly, pulling the cash out of her pocket. The cashier checked the money in the light then put it in the register. He slid her breakfast across the counter and asked if she wanted a lottery ticket or a pack of smokes. Yes, he had said ‘smokes.’

Julie made a face and grabbed the black bag her food had been put in. “I don’t smoke, or gamble.” She headed toward the door and added, “Have a nice day” as she went out. He didn’t get the chance to return the formality. Gas station cashiers have a way of making people uncomfortable, even if they do nothing at all. This one was no different.

Flynn was waiting in the driver’s seat. Julie opened the bag and handed some of the food to her. Neither said anything as they made their way back to the freeway.

California was a refreshing sight after over a year of navigating unfamiliar places. Los Angeles was especially so. Julie watched the buildings of the Citadel Outlets pass by in the window. She was home.

The occurrences described in the article had been occurring in a residential part of town made up of mainly middle class families. The victims were disproportionately teens. The types of teens who bring their cell phones into their bathrooms. Julie wasn’t an expert on electricity but these incidents struck her as odd. Not many people got electrocuted in their bathtubs. Based on her Google searches over the past day and a half, a cell phone isn’t enough to electrocute a person in a bath. It has to be plugged into the wall. Then it has to fray or fall into the bathwater. It takes a great deal of stupidity or negligence. Put a ghost in the mix, however, and everything becomes more likely.

Flynn was checking them into a new motel when the news of a new electrocution came in. This article confirmed Julie’s suspicions of a ghost and made this trip less of a waste of time. Nothing at all had been plugged in when this teen girl had gotten into her tub. Her mother had checked on her only minutes before her death. Then when the police arrived, a frayed extension cord had made its way from a drawer into a socket then into a wall. It was far too strange. And when Julie told Flynn, she agreed.

Flynn pocketed their room key and they headed for the car.

Usually Julie and Flynn’s adventures involved abandoned buildings so Julie was unsure what to say when they arrived at the Ford residence. She was too young to be a police officer and too old to be a girl scout. She knocked on the door anyway.

A distressed middle aged white woman answered the door. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying it.”

The woman moved to close the door. Flynn interrupted her. “We’re not selling anything, Mrs. Ford, we’re here about your daughter.”

“It’s Ms. Ford. I’m divorced,” the woman corrected. “And the police were just here.”

“We’re not police,” Julie said. “We hunt the supernatural. We think your daughter’s death wasn’t an accident.”

The woman frowned. “I’m desperate but I’m not that desperate. Three boys about your age came around her an hour ago saying the same thing. They said they were looking for a ghost in this neighborhood.”

“Don’t you think it’s weird four different teens have died the same way in the past week?”

“Yes,” the woman said. “But teenagers are stupid.”

“Even your daughter?”

The woman shrugged. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Ms. Ford went to shut the door again but Flynn stopped her. “Do you know where those boys went?”

“Something about the junkyard down the road. The blonde one said something about it being a good spot to hide something.”

“Thank you,” Julie said. “I hope you find answers” - she clutched her cross necklace - “I know what it’s like to lose those you love.”

Ms. Ford nodded sadly and shut the door.

“Do you think those boys are trying to find the object the ghost is attached to?” Julie asked Flynn.

“Yeah,” she said. “But why in a junkyard?”

“Good place to hide something you don’t want found.”

By that point, they had made it back to their car and proceeded to get in.

Then, it was off to the junkyard.

#mine #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #supernatural #juke #julie molina #flynn jatp #luke patterson #reggie peters #alex mercer #supernatural crossover #finally finished chapter one #i'm working on the second one already #lmk if you enjoy this

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unloved-cadillac · 4 years

Text

Leather Jackets and Glasses Two

Y/n L/n, the leader of the notorious gang called The Scouts. Placed in Rose high, Y/n is in her senior year but things take a turn when she starts getting interested in a certain boy named, Levi Ackerman. Follow the journey of heartbreak, betrayal and love between two people who were destined to be together.

Chapter Two:

-What do you mean “you keyed the teacher’s car”!? Did you or did you not!?

My father yells at me. So yeah. He found out what I did.

-it’s not my fault, he was being an asshole. Dad, is 57 a bad score?

He looks at me curiously.

-Not really. I mean you passed. Why?

-When he gave me my paper, he freakin scoffed and rolled his eyes. He looked at me like some low life. So I taught him a lesson.

My dad chuckles. He leans down and cups my cheek.

-Honey, i know you did good. He is an asshole for doing that. Teachers are supposed to uplift your spirits and try and push you further because they believe in you. I can have a “chat” with him on Monday.

He finishes and kisses my forehead.

-Thanks, Dad. I wish I could say I was sorry.

-Don’t push it.

His stern voice caught me off guard.

-Sorry, sir. May I leave now?

He nods and I wake up and leave to my room. It seemed I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking because I bumped into someone, making me fall to my ass.

-Oh Jeez Y/n. I didn’t even see you.

Mike says as he offers his hand to help me up.

-Yeah,you giant.

I wake up and dust my pants.

-I heard what you did to your teachers car. Not bad, kid. I did worse.

I raise my eyebrow to that. Mike always seemed so chill and not one to cause fights. But that was before I saw him and my dad interrogate one of our ex members. I can still hear his bones crack from Mike crushing that guy’s arm.

-What did you do?

-No no. I’m not giving you ideas. What did your dad say?

-Nothing.

He hums in response and starts to walk away.

-Hey Mike?

He turns to face me.

-You know what...never mind

I take off running to my room leaving Mike confused. I take out my phone as I enter. I dial a number and wait for them to pick up.

-hello?

-still on for tonight.

-aww HELL YEAH. Same time?

-yeah. I gotta sneak out though. So I might be a tad bit late.

-it’s fine. As long as you’re coming. Everyone is gonna be there.

I perk my ears up.

-everyone?

-yeah. From our grade. They wanted a pre-prom thing or something. Is it cool?

I smile.

-It’s perfect

~a couple of hours later

I put on my jacket and boots and head to my window. I jump out onto the roof and make my way to a ladder I left there earlier. I climbed down and make my way out of the years. So as you can see, I have been sneaking out for a while. It’s not like my dad cares, he never caught me and plus those guards are shit at their jobs. I hop over my gate and walk to the end of my neighborhood. I take a left and see Mikasa’s car, waiting. I hop into the passenger seat.

-Hey.

Mikasa says as she puts her cigarette out.

-Took you long enough.

-Yeah. Had some trouble with the ladder. Anyway, everyone is there?

-Yeah. Fucking sucks. All the nerds and jocks are there. Eren and Jean are there already too.

I smile. Nerds. Only one comes to my mind.

-Alright let’s go.

I tell Mikasa. She nods her head and puts the car into drive and we make our way to the party. This party was at the end of town. So it takes a good 15 minutes from my place. It’s at an abandoned scrapyard where not many people hang out. This place was perfect. It had these big old cars where you can chill in, some cool scrap metal. It was our little getaway.

-So...I see you have your eye on someone.

Mikasa tells me. I look at her confused. How the fuck...

-I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I say and look out the window.

-Yeah. Sure. I’ve seen you look at him. Eren may be stupid enough to believe you were looking at Reiner but I saw you look at Levi.

I widen my eyes, still not looking at her.

-Ok. Fine. But just so you know, he’s there too.

Mikasa smiles. I look at her and smirk.

-Stays between us.

-Don’t need to tell me twice.

The rest of the car ride was quiet apart from Mikasa’s radio playing. “Dead!” by My Chemical Romance was on. Perfect.

By the time we pulled up to the scrapyard it was half 8 at night so it was already dark out. Mikasa parks the car and we jump out.

-Yo look who’s finally here! Y/N!

Eren shouts from the fire. People looked at me and cheered. I look at the crowd looking for a certain someone.

-Finally. I thought you weren’t gonna come.

Eren says as he puts his arm around me.

-What are you drinking?

I take the blue cup from his hand and sniff.

-Vodka and Redbull.

-Jesus. As if you don’t need the extra energy.

I laugh. We go to the big fire that was burning in the middle of the yard. Only seniors were there so I knew everyone.

-Y/N!

I hear my name and turn to the source.

-oh fuck.

I whisper to myself. Reiner. That dipshit. He is such an asshole. Remember earlier when I told you that I was fairly popular, especially with the boys? He was one of the boys that just won’t give up.

-Reiner.

-Aw. No hi? I ran all the way across the yard for you.

-Well I didn’t ask you to.

I say as I sip my drink.

-So mean. Well, you won’t be mean on prom night. Because I’m gonna be your partner.

-Oh for fucks sake, Reiner. I told you. I don’t want to be your partner.

-Then who are you going with?

-Nobody. I’m not going.

I lie. In fact I was going. I wanted to trash the place. But when the time comes I’ll tell you about it.

-Aww come on,Y/n? Why won’t you give me a chance? I’ll treat you so good. I’ll do whatever you want. And when I say whatever, I mean whatever.

He finishes his sentence with a wink. Gross.

-Yo! REINER. COME THROW SOME BALL WITH US!

Someone calls out to him. He turns to them and yells out a “COMING!” He turns to look at me, smiles and runs off. I swear that guy tries so hard. As I take a sip of my drink,at the corner of my eye I see a couple of people coming to the yard. I recognize them immediately. Levi and Farlan.

-Levi Bro! You made it!

Isabel runs up to him and he ruffles her hair. Cute.

-And no “hey babe” for me?

Farlan asks Isabel. She laughs and kisses him. I’m not gonna lie they made a cute couple. Apparently, Isabel had no interest in Farlan at first. She never cared for finding a boyfriend. But one day, a bet was made that she couldn’t get his number in one day. She ended up telling him a shit joke and caught his interest. She had no intention of falling for him, but she did. She won the bet and his heart and I thought that was beautiful. It turns out I was daydreaming, again, because Eren is poking me.

-Yes, my hyperactive rodent?

I finally turn to him.

-I live for your weird names. Anyway, they starting a game. Come join.

-No Eren. I don’t do these games.

-Please,Y/n?

-No. I’ll watch though. Go.

He pouts but he leaves. I refill my drink and I make my way to an old car near to hear the game and sit on the bonnet. I look to my left and see someone sitting on the car next to me, but I ignore them and listen.

-Alright, seniors. It’s been an awesome night so far. So let’s play a game. Today’s game is Never Have I Ever. Everyone has to play. Even those sitting on the cars. Including you too, Levi.

I hear that name and look to my left. Holy shit, HE was sitting there. He scoffs and looks at Farlan who was sitting on the ground with Isabel on his lap. He turns and looks at me for a split second but does a double-take. I smile and wave a small wave. He widens his eyes and waves back.

-OK! First up, Sasha!

Connie points to her. She has her face stuffed with McDonald’s but speaks anyway.

-Nemver hamve I emver eaten Sushi.

I raised my eyebrow at that. That’s a weird one.

-Sasha, have you never eaten sushi?

Connie asks her. She shakes her head.

-it’s fucking disgusting. It’s the one food I won’t eat.

-Haha. Alright. Everyone if you didn’t eat sushi before, take a sip of your drink.

Yeah, everyone tried sushi so no one drank. I sneak a glance to my side and Levi also didn’t drink. Good to know.

-Ok. Never have I ever broken a bone.

Jean says. A few drink and I do too.

-ok whoever drank tell us what you broke.

Connie tells us.

-I fell down the stairs and broke my leg.

-I bumped into a door and broke my nose.

-I got knocked and broke a few.

A couple of people say. I laugh at some.

-Y/n?

I look up.

-You drank. Tell us.

Connie says. I smile.

-I got into a fight and broke my wrist and collarbone.

Many widen their eyes. Jean smiles. He smiles cause he remembers that fight.

-Hardcore, man. You aren’t labeled as dangerous for nothing, huh?

I shake my shoulders and chuckle. I sneak a peak to my left and see Levi staring. I smirk. He didn’t drink yet. Maybe he really was a good boy.

-Y/n. Your turn.

I put on a thinking face. Then I smile and say my line.

-Never have I ever had friends with benfits.

Many drank. Almost all. And few glances were sent. I look at Levi and he didn’t drink. Mmm.

-Now that was a good one, Y/n. Already getting dirty. Alright, Levi. Your turn.

I turn to look at him and see him look down. It’s quiet for a bit but then he speaks up.

-Never have I ever been arrested.

Jesus. That is unexpected. I would drink but surprisingly that never happened. But I did see Jean sip and Mikasa sip. The air got a bit tensed because Connie was gonna ask them about it. Until I caught his eye and slowly shook my head. He cleared his throat and smiled.

-Jeez Levi. Good one. Alright. Hange. You’re next.

Connie smoothly says. I look at Levi.

-That was good one. Why ask that?

I ask him. He looks at me. My God. This boy just got sexier to me.

-I don’t know. I felt like there needed to be a wilder one.

He says. I smile. I like his voice. I want him to speak again. But we get interrupted by Connie.

-Guys did you hear? Hange asked if you ever sent a nude.

I make a disgusted face and so does Levi.

-Jesus Christ no. What the fuck.

-Yeah Four-Eyes, what the fuck?

He turns to look at Hange. She was sitting between Erwin’s legs as he wraps his arms around her. Yes,they were dating and they also got together by chance. Erwin was her locker neighbor and he mistakenly tried to open hers instead of his. They laughed and a few days later got together.

Levi just swore. He just said “fuck”. I guess he wasn’t a good boy after all.

-Levi.

I say his name to catch his attention. He looks at me.

-Yes?

-Why did you give me your handkerchief the other day?

He blushes and looks down. He doesn’t say anything for a while.

-Your hand was bleeding and it looked like you didn’t have yours on you. Did you think I would just let you suffer like that?

He quietly says the end part. It was soft but I caught it. I smile.

-You’re sweet,Levi. Thank you. By the way you’re not getting it back.

-It’s ok. Keep it.

He says. I tilt my head. He really is strange. We weren’t even paying attention to the game anymore. So I just drank and looked at him. I guess he sensed I was staring so he looked at me.

-Y/n?

I snap out of my daydream.

-Oh sorry was I staring? I just can’t get enough of your cuteness.

I tell him. He widens his eyes and looks away, hiding a blush. I smile. He is so easy to fluster. The night progresses and people start to leave around 12. I stick around for a while with my gang. As we are chatting I see Levi and Farlan leave. He looks at me and I smile. He waves to me.

-I knew you liked him.

Someone says to me. I turn to that someone to see Mikasa light her cigarette.

-Shut up. I don’t like him.

-Tell that to your face. You can fool anyone with your stoicness but not me. I can clearly see that you’re blushing.

It was my turn to widen my eyes and look away. Fuck.

-Just take me home.

I say and Mikasa chuckles.

-Sure.

We leave and I see Levi and Farlan by their car. It looks like it’s not starting and the engine sounds like shit. Isabel tries starting it but the engine just give out.

-Dammit. I just got this fucker fixed last week.

I hear Farlan scream.

-I told you not listen to Kenny.

Levi responds. Kenny? That name seems familiar. But I brush it off and grab Mikasa’s arm.

-Hey. It looks like they are having car problems.

Mikasa smirks at me.

-Wanna help out?

I look at her and squint my eyes.

-..yes.

-Alright. Let’s go.

We walk up to them and Mikasa taps Farlan’s shoulder.

-Hey. You guys ok?

Farlan looks at us. He instantly recognized us.

-Oh. Oh yes. This damn car gave out.

Farlan tells us.

-Can I have a see?

I ask Farlan. He nods his head and make my way to the engine. I ask Isabel to try and start it. When she presses the accelerator there’s a weird sound coming from the back of it. I look inside and see something weird.

-Uhm Farlan? Do you have a pair of pliers?

He looks in his boot and pulls out a pair of pliers. He gives them to Levi and Levi comes and gives it to me.

-Oh. Oh, thank you.

I take it from Levi and smile. I stick the pliers in the back and pull out a wire.

-Ok, Isabel. Let’s try it one more time.

And when Isabel starts it, it successfully starts.

-WHOOHOO!

Isabel yells and Farlan moves to thank me.

-Thank you, Y/n. Thank you so much. How can I repay you?

I shake my head.

-Nothing. Just bring the car by Pixis’ Shop downtown. Tell him I sent you. He would do the car up for free.

-Whoa, what really?

-Yeah. Also, your engine is shit right now. Whoever did it before really did a number on it. It looks like they either didn’t know how to do it or they hated you guys.

Farlan laughs at that.

-That’s what Levi said. Our uncle recommended the shop. Levi said that they were gonna fuck up the car because they hated our uncle.

I look at Levi and he smirks.

-Yeah well, be careful on the road ok?

-Yeah. You too, Y/n. Thank you again.

-Thank you, Y/n!!!

Isabel shouts. I wave them off and walk to Mikasa’s car. She starts the car and we head off. Halfway through the drive Mikasa says something.

-He was staring the whole time.

I wake up from my light slumber.

-Huh?

-Levi. That whole time you were working on Farlan’s car. He didn’t take his eyes off of you.

I click my tongue.

-Nah. Perhaps it was the fact that I was working on his brothers car and also I’m a gangster and he was trying to make sure I didn’t fuck with them?

-Nope. This was a different look. I can’t put my foot on it but it was different.

-Hmm

I respond to her analysis. I roll my eyes. No. There’s no way he is interested in me.

===

*In Farlan’s car*

-Levi-bro! Y/n is so kind. Don’t you think? I didn’t expect her to know about cars, if im being honest.

Isabel tells him. He hums in response.

-I saw you two talking to each other at the party. You seem close.

Farlan says to Levi.

-No. We only recently started talking.

-But she’s super pretty up close, huh? And I think she likes you.

Isabel tells Levi as she leans on Farlan’s seat.

-No. I don’t think so.

-Why not???

-She has so many other options. Why would she go for the nerd of all people? I think she’s interested in Farlan.

-Levi! No! I’m with Isabel and I’m 120% sure she knows that. You really need to put yourself out there and stop thinking low of yourself. Plus, Y/n doesn’t seem like a person to go for someone who’s taken.

Levi clicks his tongue and looks at the road.

No. There’s no way a girl like her would like a guy like me...

———————————————————————

Here is Chapter Two. Feel free to message if you want to be added to my taglist.

Tagged: @windex-princess-gia

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #snk #aot fanfiction #Levi x gangster!reader #Captain Levi #modern au #high school au #rivai ackerman #Leather Jackets And Glasses #LJaG

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