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#taking a short break from this now but i'm already looking forward to preparing parts 2 and 3 of tgog and also tfk
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“You sat next to me on the airplane and fell asleep on my shoulder and I don’t want to move you cause you look so comfortable. Oh and you’re hot.” with tenoch please and many thanx
Whoever you are nonnie, I love you.
Summary: Tenoch is heading back home for a little vacation after the success of Wakanda Forever. With all the flight cancellations due to short staffing he volunteers to downgrade his seat so he can leave on time. He didn't expect to end up next to you.
Fluffy Meet Cute
AN: Not proofread because I'm too lazy right now.
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He was exhausted to say the least. Two cancelled flights and a 4 hour delay and Tenoch finally found himself boarding a plane back to Mexico. He had been looking forward to the first class seats he had original booked but with all the disruptions he had opted for economy class to get himself onto the next flight home.
The whirlwind of press tours and special appearances after the success of Wakanda Forever was something Tenoch was incredibly grateful for. But his schedule had increased 10 fold. With some coordination with his manager he was able to get three weeks off to go home and relax and see his family. He had never been so thankful to get a break in his life.
He was one of the first to board the plane and opted for an aisle seat. Already feeling himself getting sleepy, he put in his AirPods and stared off into space. He wasn't worried about being recognized as he still had his cap on and opted to keep his mask on until the flight took off. He would rather not cause a ruckus considering his new found 'super stardom' as his manager liked to call it. Surprisingly it took awhile for anyone to ask to sit in the seats next to him. When someone tapped his shoulder he looked up.
You stood there looking timid wearing a comfortable crewneck pullover, jeans, and sneakers. You wore no hat or mask and when you gestured to the window seat, Tenoch only nodded and stood up to let you scoot in. The actor was thankful that his face was mostly covered or else you probably would have noticed his jaw dropping a little at the sight of you. You were his type to a tee. He noticed you having difficulty with your carry on and easily lifted it from your hands and arranged it in the overhead.
"Just go sit. I can do that for you," he replied, glancing at you again. You smiled at him and whispered a quick 'thank you'. Tenoch tried not to smile stupidly back at you. You were stunning and he was trying to get his thoughts in order. If he wasn't so tired he would have made a witty comment or started flirting with you.
You took your seat at the window as the rest of the passengers continued to board the plane. Tenoch glanced at you and took his aisle seat, contemplating moving over into the middle seat so he was next to you. The actor had spent the better part of the last two years being hyper focused on his work, especially with his entrance into the MCU. He hated to say it but he was a little rusty when it came to flirting.
There was another tap on his shoulder and Tenoch looked over to see a woman with her child. "Would it be okay if you took the seat next to you? There's a seat behind yours and my son would be able to sit in front of me. There are no more seats next to each other."
Tenoch obliged immediately and moved to the center seat. The boy was around 10 years old and smiled up at him. "Thank you, sir."
Tenoch noticed the boy had a Namor shirt on and smiled knowingly. He helped the boy get belted in as they prepared for take off. Once all settled, Tenoch took off his hat and pulled his mask down. There was a gasp from the little boy as well as from you next to him.
Tenoch put a finger to his lips to quiet the boy. The boy nodded and was practically giddy with excitement. The boy whispered, "You're Namor."
"Yes I am. But I need you to stay quiet for me ok? It's late and a lot of people will be sleeping while we fly back home," Tenoch instructed him gently.
"I will. Can I take a selfie with you?" The boy asked pleadingly. Tenoch ruffled his hair and told him he would once they were up in the air.
True to his word, once the plane had reached cruising altitude Tenoch took a picture with the boy using his mother's phone. The mother was happy but far too shy to take her own picture with him, although the actor offered. Tenoch settled back into his seat while the boy put on some headphones and started to drift off to sleep with a smile on his face. Tenoch adjusted the blanket to make sure it didn't fall off the dozing boy.
"That was very sweet of you Mr. Huerta," You whispered to him.
Tenoch looked down fondly at the boy before turning to you, "It's the least I can do. Seeing kids like him reacting so positively has made it all worth it."
"You were amazing in the film. I do think Namor overreacted a little bit when he offed Ramonda," You replied teasingly.
Tenoch chuckled then stuck out his hand for you to shake, "Call me Tenoch. It's nice to meet you."
"Y/n. It's nice to meet you too. I won't bother you for a picture as much as I'd like to brag to everyone that I met Agua Papi. But I am exhausted and need to catch some sleep," You replied as you unfolded your blanket and wrapped it around yourself.
Tenoch couldn't help but blush at the nickname. He'd had his fair share of admiring fans over the years but the attention he was now receiving was leaving him a little flustered. Just like that he had missed his opportunity to strike up a conversation with you. He suppressed the sigh that was building in his chest and turned his music back on. The actor leaned his head back and turned to you slightly before closing his eyes.
He didn't know how long he was sleeping for when the need to use the bathroom woke him up. Tenoch moved to stretch when he felt a weight on his shoulder. When he turned he saw the crown of your head. That's when he realized that you had fallen asleep and unconsciously leaned on his shoulder. Immediately he froze, not wanting to disturb you.
Tenoch was stuck in the best way possible. Now that you were leaned against him he was intoxicated by how good you smelled. It had to be your shampoo or your perfume. He didn't know but he would be happy to sit there forever if it meant he would smell that scent. But his bladder was screaming at him.
After a fierce internal battle, Tenoch decided he would have to get up and hopefully not wake you. With the most care he could muster he turned slightly towards you and brought his hand up to your face. He cradled the side of your face and used his shoulder to gently shift your head so you would turn into his palm. You sighed in your sleep and Tenoch froze.
You were now nuzzled into the hand he had brought up to your face. He couldn't help but stare at your face as you dozed softly in his touch. Once you had settled once more, he leaned your head against the side of the plane. His hand cupped your cheek with affection before relinquishing his hold and slowly getting up. Tenoch celebrated silently at the success but realized he would have to get around the dozing boy as well.
He stared down at the boy for a moment and listened to the quiet plane. Most of the passengers were asleep or enjoying their own silent activities. As the actor attempted to slide past the boy without jostling him, the child stretched languidly and looked up. The boy's eyes grew wide before he giggled softly at the awkward position of the man in front of him. He lifted his short legs onto the seat, making room for the older man.
"Gracias, ninito," Tenoch whispered to the boy with a smile. As he headed down the aisle of the plane he didn't notice that you had woken up and were watching him.
You were blushing to yourself. You had woken when he had put his hand on your cheek but you had been to nervous to say anything. His hands were soft but strong and feeling how gently he moved you made your heart skip a beat. You hadn't meant to lean on him but you had a tendency to fidget a bit in your sleep.
"He thinks you're pretty," the boy suddenly whispered to you, leaning across the open space of Tenoch's chair.
You blushed, "I'm embarrassed that I fell asleep on him."
"He looks at you the way my sister's boyfriend looks at her," the boy continued
"And how is that exactly?" You humored the boy, although you didn't believe him.
"Like he wants to eat her," the boy said non-chalantly. Your eyes grew wide at his pronouncement. "My mama says that's a good thing."
Without another word the boy settled back into his chair, curled in a ball to allow Tenoch the space to get back to his seat. You were left speechless and contemplative. It had been like a dream when you had sat down and realized who you were sharing a row with. Not only did you love Tenoch Huerta, the actor, but you appreciated his activism and intellect. He was someone you admired deeply and of course found incredibly attractive. But were you shy and had shut down at the prospect of actually seeing your idol in real life.
Just as you were considering if you wanted to ask Tenoch for a picture before your flight landed, he started making his way back to his seat. You nodded at him as he sat back down. He whispered to the boy, apparently telling him he could stretch out again since the boy moved his legs off his seat.
"Going back to sleep?" Tenoch asked with a kind smile on his face.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lean on you," you apologized.
"No need to apologize, I also leaned on you. I'm just much taller than you are," he chuckled but kept eye contact. You could feel a blush growing on your face at his attentiveness. He was more handsome in person. He had a five o'clock shadow but was otherwise clean shaven. From this close you could see some of his white hairs peeking through his black strands at his temples. You admired him as he did the same to you. Tenoch took in all your features marveling at how each fit together so perfectly. From your nose, to the shape of your eyes, to the slight upturn of your lips. It had been a long time since either of you had felt like you were in the presence of someone beautiful.
The moment stretched between you two. Taking each other in and forgetting to speak. When you finally locked eyes you would swear that your pupils must have exploded at the same time his did.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's not every day I get on a flight and sit next to someone I admire so much," You babbled out as you looked away, patting your cheeks to try to get your blush to fade.
"You admire me?" Tenoch asked, his voice low, his eyes never leaving your face. He could tell that you were flustered but his heart was racing. The Latin man was a pleasure seeker, had always been, but the satisfaction that had flooded his senses at seeing your eyes darken with desire was unparalleled.
You didn't notice Tenoch leaning closer as you babbled your response, "Of course I admire you. I mean, not only do you play Namor and helped bring indigenous Mexicans into the spot light, but you also actively speak up for minorities and against colorism. Your activism is only outdone by your extensive list of acting credits. Which I also have to say is impressive since you really tried to work with up and coming POC creators."
Tenoch paused and couldn't help but smile. He didn't want to sound conceited but talking about some of his past work was one of his favorite topics. Some of his short films were passion projects that he took on almost exclusively because he wanted to help that director or writer as much as he could. The only way he would be able to see more people like him on screen was empowering the people who would cast those faces.
"What have you seen?" Tenoch asked curious.
"Everything." You laughed, embarrassed at the admission as you finally met his eyes again, "Not to sound like a stalker or anything. But when I really like an actor I watch everything they have ever been in to the best of my abilities. I just got done watching your entire filmography a couple weeks ago."
It was Tenoch's turn to blush. He started to pepper you with questions about your opinions on some of his work. Soon you were both fully engaged in an in depth discussion of Latin Cinema, colorism, and racism among colonized societies. Although whispered, the excitement and chemistry that exuded from the conversation was palpable.
A couple hours passed and you let out a yawn. Your conversation had devolved into jokes about long flights and what Tenoch had planned for his vacation. He looked at you concerned, "We still have another hour and a half until we are supposed to land. You should get some sleep. I didn't mean to keep you up."
You smiled and, feeling bold, you took his hand, "I have enjoyed every minute of staying up talking to you, Tenoch."
Tenoch looked down at you fondly and squeezed your hand. You yawned again and Tenoch took his other hand and placed it on your cheek, "Sleep now, hermosa. I'll wake you when the plane starts to land."
Tenoch gently guided your head to lean back onto his shoulder. You leaned in and relished the feeling as sleep overtook you. You felt him squeeze your hand again but not let go as you drifted off to sleep.
You were the one to wake up once the announcement was made that you would be starting your descent. Tenoch was asleep, his cheek pressed to the crown of your head and his hand still wrapped around yours. Your heart was racing and you honestly thought you might be dreaming. His hand was so much bigger than yours. His shoulder firm and muscular. He smelled fresh despite the hours he had spent in the airport and on the plane. You didn't want to break this peaceful spell that you were under.
The seatbelt light came on and you knew you had to wake him. But impulsively you decided to pat his cheek slightly to stir him as you sat up. As he blinked and stretched you reached over to pull his seatbelt around and clipped it. His hands covered yours that were dangerously close to his crotch just as the pilot announced that landing out be starting momentarily.
You were leaned over in front of Tenoch, his hand still on yours that gripped his belt, your faces millimeters from each other. Your breathe intermingled. Time seemed to stop as Tenoch looked into your eyes then glanced down at your lips. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you instinctively leaned into his touch.
"Are you guys going to kiss?" The boy's voice broke through the moment and you immediately pulled away and sat back into your seat. Tenoch took a deep breath and addressed the boy, "She was just helping me with my seat belt."
"That looked like more than that," the boy said skeptically.
Before Tenoch could reply the intercom announced the successful landing and soon the off boarding of the plane. Tenoch put his mask and cap back on and you readied yourself as each row took their turn getting off the plane. The actor helped the mother and son with their luggage and sent them off in front of him. He turned to you and you could see the smile in his eyes despite the mask.
"I'll get your bag for you, hermosa," He whispered as you made your way into the aisle. Tenoch offered to carry your bag as you disembarked but you insisted on carrying it. You walked companionably through the tunnel and onto the gate with your shoulders bumping into each other occasionally.
Tenoch was shyly glancing at you every now and then and you were sure you were blushing bright pink. You separated when you got to immigration. But you caught Tenoch looking at you a few times across the way, and he winked at you each time. He was waiting for you after and accompanied you to baggage claim. Tenoch, ever the gentleman, helped you retrieve your luggage and walked with you down the terminal to where arrivals was located.
Once there you both realized at the same time that this is where you parted, probably to never see each other again. You turned to Tenoch and took his hands, feeling bold after the positive interactions. "This has got to be one of the most pleasant flights I've been on thanks to you. It was amazing meeting you. I guess they were wrong when they said 'don't meet your idols'."
Tenoch leaned in to whisper into your ear, "This was definitely the best flight I've been on. I could spend hours, days talking to you. Thank you, hermosa."
You blushed again and welcomed the hug that Tenoch initiated. As you pulled away you received a phone call. Tenoch also reached for his trilling phone. You shared one last look and shrugged your shoulders as you answered the phone and turned away, heading to your ride that was no doubt the one calling you. You didn't see the way Tenoch was watching you with wistful eyes as he barely listened to his manage as they asked him how the flight went.
"It was great. The best," Tenoch replied as he made his way out of the airport.
...
Alright friends, cute, simple. maybe too simple. give me a break I love meet cutes.
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brightwingedbat · 1 year
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👀 (@commanderhorncleaver)
A thing I was meant to finish this year but kept putting it to the side, post EoD talks with Nastazya and Rox. Got the main chat down but not the beginning or after parts, put a read break because it's pretty long. Naz and Marcus visiting her at the isles, partly to get away from the wintery Tyria weather. Marc is off fishing however. -Rox and Nastazya having introductory talks I haven't sorted out yet- "Gotta say, wasn't expecting to hear you were having another cub. After, well, everything." Rox's thoughts fall back to the utter chaos the world has been through that past few years, she finds herself fortunate that she can share a relaxing time with her friends now, the sounds of the sea nearby bring a calm to her. "Look at you, though I don't think that belly's as big as the last time." A short laugh utters from Ragewelder's muzzle, now that was a time, carrying her twins while going after Joko. "It isn't, I can assure that. As much as I love my son and daughter, I'd be more than happy to just have one cub this time."
"Ha, yeah, I suppose taking care of one cub is a lot easier than two." Taking care of cubs... That brings back fahrar memories, nostalgic, yet painful for the brown-furred charr. She wants this to be a brighter day though, meeting the commander with a smile. "It's a wonder how primuses even manage. If matters ever line up here, I'm glad I'll have the Olmakhan ways."
"Oh, don't even remind me about primuses..." Ragewelder archs her head back, a sigh escaping her as that one day comes to mind. "I watched over five cubs once, with Marcus, and I could not handle it. Give me a grown warband to lead over being a primus any day..."
"And there's the Nastazya I'm used to, you never really change." Rox always finds it amusing when the Commander gets like this, usually she's so stoic, but around friends she lets loose. "Speaking of never changing, I know I'm hardly one to talk but I don't think I've ever seen you without your hair in braids like that." She starts to wonder how different the Commander would look with a new hairstyle, at this point it's very much a part of her appearance she can't picture her without it.
"My braids?" A tinge of bittersweetness hits Nastazya's chest as the scenes of her childhood arise, those braids of hers, there's a simple but important history behind them. Her paw raises up, gently brushing over a cherry-orange plait, as if looking for comfort. "It's... something I won't ever change, they're important." A soft sigh from her lips, accompanying a wistful expression.
"...Is everything alright? I didn't mean to bring up something that might hurt-" Rox worriedly looks to the orange charr, halting herself as she catches her friend gently shaking her head still with that same look on her face. "It's fine, it's doesn't-" Ragewelder realises, there's no point trying to push it off, Rox can clearly read her well. She takes a breath, a gentle tone in her voice she's rare to use. "It hurts some, but it's also... A fond time, I treasure it. I think it'd be good to talk about it, talk about those happy memories I have."
"As long as it's not too much, you're here to relax after all. Don't wanna ruin that for you." The Olmakhan assures, the last thing she wants is to make a friend who has already suffered so much deal with further pain. Always so caring, Nastazya thinks. Rox has never been one to push her to speaking, but always gave that option to let her. It's something she's long valued. "I appreciate your concern, but I wouldn't offer to talk if it was."
"Alright, if you say so. I'm all ears for you, then." The ranger at last relents, leaning a slight forward in interest. Another view into the Commander's history? Not something she wants to miss out on. As she prepares to speak, those fond memories rush into her mind, a treasured moment with the cubs she grew up in fahrar with. "When I was young, a scrappy little cub in fahrar, my primus' mate came to visit him once. She had her hair styled similarly to this, my warband could see it in my eyes, I wanted the same." She gently shakes her head, chuckling as she thinks about how childish this sounds. "It's so... silly, thinking back. All six of them, Tullia, Clio, Graw, Faust, Howl and Dinky... They all did whatever they could to help me braid my hair, even going to find clips and ties for it." "Your first warband... Now I get it. Those types of memories, those are the most precious ones for charr like us." If this was years back, Rox would have been hurting a lot more at the memories of her warband. Time with the Olmakhan has let her heal though, she can focus on the times she enjoyed. "They are, and that's exactly why..." Nastazya looks down to her long braids, each one is significant to her, each one. "That's why I won't ever change these braids, even when I undo them when I bathe, I always fix them back just like this. My friends- Family. Each one of them made one."
"I never realised, all this time you've been using your hair as a memorial to them…" Rox responds softly, it's honestly a very heartfelt act, it shows how much the Commander cared for her first 'band. "Which one did which?"
Nastazya smiles, then points a claw to each length of hair as she describes the cub that fashioned it. "Faust taught them all how to do it, his is this one beside my face. Tullia made this one that circles beneath my ear. Clio made this one, just behind it. This tiny one was Dinky's work, he may still be with us, but I keep it all the same. These last two huge ones were done by Graw and Howl, fitting for the two big guys back then."
It's heartening to hear how preciously the Commander speaks about her braids like this, about her old warband family. It's a side rarely ever shown, Rox feels special to be able to hear this side of her. "...You know, beneath that strong Commander exterior, you're a really sweet person. I'd bet all of them appreciate you carrying on, keeping them close in your own way." Ragewelder smiles lightly, a soft expression as she glances back to her friend. "I'm certain they do." She returns to her typical sitting position, her paws off her braids. A slight tilt of her head as she addresses that other part. "And Rox? Keep that sweetness thing between us, I have an image to uphold."
The brown charr tries to stifle her laugh but ends up snorting instead, the Commander really doesn't change. "I got it, you can always trust me. I'll be sure to keep you being a gentle, sweet and overall precious person under wraps." A larger smile spreads on Nastazya's muzzle, she's rubbing it in even more, and yet she finds the playfulness amusing herself. Still, best not let it go too long. "Okay, that's quite enough Rox-"
-Marcus would interrupt this part by rushing in excitedly shouting about a huge fish he just caught-
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meowmageddon · 5 months
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December 2023 Reading Update!
Despite how busy November was, I finished a bunch of things (though there were two short novellas and a DNF in there, to be fair)! So there's a bunch of mini-reviews ahead, balanced by the fact that December is a quiet month for publishing, so I don't have anything big to highlight coming up.
So here's the Keep Reading break for the Long Post ahead!
November Mini-Reviews
The Forest Brims Over by Maru Ayase - 4 stars
Each of the chapters is told from a different perspective, circling inward to Rui herself at the end. There's a lot of examination over gender roles and iniquities, though it plays a little softball with the subject for my taste. I tend to prefer when women are allowed their full rage, and kinda feel some folks were let off the hook a little easy.
Lone Women by Victor LaValle - 5 stars
This was a wild ride; I understand why folks can't say too much about this one, because the journey takes many unexpected turns. What you can expect is for the chills to come from human sources at least as often as supernatural ones. I'm more interested than ever to pick up The Changeling from LaValle now, as I've heard it's incredible, too.
Fresh Dirt from the Grave by Giovanna Rivero - DNF
As much as I enjoyed the first couple stories, there were iffy things in the next two or three that put me off, particularly with portrayals of Indigenous folks and disability. Chose not to finish and to leave it unrated.
The Crane Husband by Kelly Barnhill - 4.5 stars
Heartbreaking. Hard to say much without revealing too much for this short novella. Just be warned it's a lot of parental neglect and abuse for the main character.
Feed Them Silence by Lee Mandelo - 3 stars
I could make a full post as long as this one about my thoughts on this little novella. I will say the main character's already a mess going in, and the time spent with the wolf is actually not a whole lot. I could see the points the book was making, but the execution wasn't quite there for some of them. The prose was good, and I'm still interested in their novel, Summer Sons, for now.
Current December Reads
Speaking Bones by Ken Liu
Almost halfway through! Just got through a battle that lasted 100 pages, due to interludes about the development of the technologies involved, and that's delightfully typical of this series. 😹
Loot by Tania James
Almost 1/3rd through. Pleasantly surprised by how much I'm enjoying this, so far. As a history nerd, I personally recommend looking up the situation in Mysore, India around the time of Tipu Sultan's reign for extra context and immersion.
Organ Meat by K-Ming Chang
Less than 50 pages in, but already noted down so many bits of prose I adore. This is absolutely not for everybody, both for sheer quantity of bodily fluids and functions mentioned, but also its shifting narrative style. So far chapters have been in first person POV, third person POV, and pure dialog written in a script-like format. Absolutely loving it.
Recent Acquisitions
The Lizard Prince and Other South American Stories
I forgot to mention I received my copy of this from Iron Circus Comics a couple months ago, after backing their crowdfunding for it last year! This completes their Cautionary Fables & Fairytales series, covering the stories of six continents!
Tomb Sweeping by Alexandra Chang
My pick from Book of the Month for December! It's an anthology of short fiction spanning the US and parts of Asia.
There's a lot to do this month for the holidays and preparations for the new year, so I'm not loading up my reading radar for now. If I finish Loot, I'll likely pick up my other giveaway win, Our Shadows Have Claws, so I can review it. If I finish Organ Meats, the next library read will depend on a few things, including how accessible my preferred branches are with holiday hours and inclement weather concerns 🙀
Until next time, look forward to my posts for my Favorite Reads of 2023 and Favorite New Music of 2023, which I'll migrate here in lieu of the traditional Twitter threads.
Thanks for reading, and happy holidays!
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alumort · 1 year
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Ao3
First - prev - next
hii its me again :DD enjoy!!
Enjoy cuteness while it lasts :P
Lee loved cooking and so, his job was something he usually enjoyed. But there were times when it was… Too much, for his spirit and his upper back.
He had to constantly move around with barely any break outside of lunchtime or when there were barely any complicated dishes to do– he was extremely delicate with decorating food, so Choza tended to assign him to pastry more than anything else, and sometimes to watch over what other people made. It took a lot of control that the cook had slowly gained with the years, and his gaze could now identify even the smallest mistakes with errors in food decoration, he now even complained to his newer coworkers about that.
God, was he becoming a grumpy old man? Lee was just eighteen and he was already getting annoyed at younger people's errors… Well, they did deserve his anger at times, that wasn't part of his imagination. But they had to prepare perfect dishes to suit the nobles' taste, so perhaps being strict wasn't too bad.
Choza had already told him he might even get a promotion by how well he worked! Perhaps Lee wasn't a knight yet, but there was a chance that he would be able to afford a small home for his sister and him at any moment, he didn't save most of his money for nothing after all. Their roommate thankfully didn't pry where he shouldn't, although his huge white dog was a bit clingy to both siblings from time to time they were good company anyways.
Work was good for him to spend some time focused on his thoughts and receiving some coins while doing it. Lee didn't have much to complain about.
At one point Tenten approached him as he was preparing biscuits, to which he groaned by instinct without even looking at her. The brunette giggled, resting her head on his shoulder before talking.
"Your boyfriend wants to meet you tonight," she whispered with a playful smile, separating herself from her brother while he now looked at her with curiosity in his eyes. "He saw me when I went to fetch some stuff, and asked me to 'tell Lee we'll train after dinner.' Then he smiled."
The black haired man wasn't annoyed by the interruption anymore; instead his face brightened up and he let out a huge grin without even realizing.
"Oh! Thanks for telling me, Tenten!" Lee said, more excited about finishing his work than he had been the hours before.
"It's no problem. I'm sure you two will have lots of fun tonight, isn't it?"
Lee felt his face warming up just by seeing his sister's smirk, so he decided to look away and focus on what was in front of him, ignoring her teasings until Tenten got bored and went to prepare the sesame dumplings she and Lord Hizashi enjoyed a lot (and, of course, stealing some in the process without anybody noticing).
He had a long day ahead, and time seemed to go even slower now that he was actually looking forward to something; it had been a while since Neji and him were able to say anything else apart from a quick 'hi' in the hallways, almost as if the brunet was now wary of being with him.
But everything had been alright the previous weeks, months even. What had changed in such a short time? Had Lee done something bad without realizing? Perhaps he would find out later, hopefully his boyfriend was in the mood to talk.
Well, that's why he had sent him a message… Lee quickly moved his head to the sides, trying to stop distracting himself with his thoughts just enough so the food wouldn't get burned.
~
And soon the moon switched places with the sun, marking the hour that the prince and the cook were supposed to meet.
There was barely any light to guide his steps apart from the stars and the moon itself, and a sense of dèjá vu invaded his mind as he walked towards Neji's garden while trying to not be seen by anybody. Lee knew the path by heart by now, and it didn't take long for him to reach the place he had to be in.
With a lantern illuminating his body, his partner was there, welcoming him with a tight embrace before saying anything at all– the cook couldn't help it but smile, returning the hug without wasting time, hiding his face on the crook of Neji's neck in silence.
For a moment, Lee forgot how worried he was about everything, exhaustion fading away just by having the other man close to him even if no words were exchanged at first. And god, he really needed that hug after so long, held by the prince who loved spending time with him without expecting anything in return.
"I missed you," the cook muttered, his voice barely audible even if the only thing surrounding both men was a profound silence.
Neji separated himself from Lee only for a moment, carefully placing a hand on his cheek and carresing it in gentle circles, observing his partner before talking.
"I missed you too. I'm sorry, I'll explain everything, just–" A soft sigh escaped from his lips, and the brunet bit his lower lip without even realizing it. "I'll explain everything later. Just… Let's start today's training, shall we?"
The black haired man squinted his eyes, finding strange how elusive his partner was being about something he probably had no idea about. But there were many things he wasn't allowed to know, royal disputes and diplomatic stuff like these– if something serious was going on, Neji would definitely let him know sooner or later. For now it was time to pick up the wooden swords, and spar as if they were enemies with real weapons in their hands, dodging in a silent dance filled only with their panting and nothing else.
At one point, fighting with his partner stopped being a hard thing, with his movements growing more and more predictable through the passing of the years. Strike, strike, stop… Neji had a certain rhythm in how he moved that Lee now knew how to analyze, trying to take him by surprise but without hurting him at all– and soon the brunet was on the ground, strands of hair blocking his sight, that he didn't even try to remove as the cook was practically pinning him down. His sword was far away from his hands, and no matter how much he extended his harms the brunet wouldn't be able to grab his weapon once again.
"I won," Lee announced with a huge grin on his face, looking at his boyfriend as he talked. He let go of him and laid by his side in silence, observing the bright stars and the moon that was right on top of them.
Without saying anything, Neji rested his head on Lee's shoulder, letting out a content hum while a little smile decorated his face. The cook didn't even know how to react, too anxious to move although there was no real reason to be anymore. Perhaps he was still nervous to be discovered by someone who shouldn't be watching at all.
"... you're getting the hang of this, love," the prince muttered, closing his eyes as he talked. "I have basically taught you everything I know– you should go and find a better mentor. I don't know what else to tell you, apart from that I'll be here if you ever want to spar again."
Lee tilted his head to the side, trying not to pester his boyfriend, who simply got more comfortable on the grass, looking at nothing in particular as it was obvious he was deep in thought.
"Why are you saying this? We will keep seeing each other, Neji! … Right?"
His partner tried to hide his trembling lips to no avail, still deciding to avoid any kind of eye contact with the other man.
"I'll be quite busy for a couple of days. You see, my father– there's no secrets in the castle, and he's… Not fond of the person that has won my heart. He doesn't like that we're together because you're not a nobke," Neji admitted, playing with his hair as he talked, his gaze focused on the grass underneath himself. "Father wants me to be with a noble and so, he has arranged quite a few dates for me with some people from other kingdoms… In hopes that I'll find my other half in one of them, you know? I haven't talked much with you because he's observing me most of the time now.”
Oh, of course. Lord Hizashi didn't like to see his son meddling with a cook, no matter what Neji thought or even wanted. Politics came first, to keep peace or that's what the man said when he thought Lee wasn't listening— those times in which he had to hide in the closet after sex just to not be found by the king or the maids that tended to warn of their presence by knocking, knowing well what was going on.
It was a miracle that they were able to spend any time together at all, away from the crowd and just with each other's company, with the stars and a small lantern as their light.
There was no way of figuring out how much time it would pass until they were able to just… Lay side by side in peace once again, not worrying about anything but the possibility of rain. All Lee wanted was to remain there, chatting with Neji about whatever they felt like talking about all night long.
But that seemed to be far away from reality now, and so they exchanged kisses without caring how much time passed, knowing well that months could pass before they would be able to kiss each other again.
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liapher · 3 years
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oh haha you know when you hand in your thesis and then shift into rabid design mode
On a serious note though, DTA (besides just being very engaging to read and fun to analyze and speculate about) was the one thing that managed to fix the creative block I'd had since the start of the pandemic, and I'm super grateful for that. Literally the first thing I did once I had a reasonable amount of free time this year was to come up with the original designs for these covers and then toying with the idea of adding some chapter illustrations.
This was a very fun exercise in thinking about how to design a series of books (this time I got to do this a lot more thoroughly than the first time around, and it’s, uh, certainly managed to give me a new sense of appreciation for what publishing houses are doing :-)) and a neat new way of getting to interact with the text, and it’s been so cool to see all the different designs that other people have been sharing (and how different those design directions all are!) ☀️
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peachyysugaa · 3 years
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troublemaker
― dancer youtubers!lee heeseung x gn!dance major!reader
sparks fly when the top two dancers on youtube collab!
genre: slow-burn fluff, s2l
wc: 3.9k (omg i'm sorry) + 2 twitter pics
warnings: probably some wrong dance terminology, slightly suggestive (the dance is just 😳), short timeskip, it's cheesy please bear with me
part of my youtuber enhypen series, the fifth upload! feel free to read on its own~ ♞──────────────────────────♞
you finish off your last move with your arms wide open, your chest heaving up and down from lack of breath. smiling nevertheless, you know you absolutely love the feeling of getting your breath taken away after dancing because you know it meant you did your best. you walk towards the camera lens and peek at the comments through your open laptop.
"did you all enjoy that?" you ask breathlessly grinning. the flooding comments are filled with compliments from your cover of nct u's boss. however, one comment, in particular, caught your eye as others seemed to reply to it.
heeseung ✔ 2s ago wow that was amazing do you wanna do a collab sometime? 😊
line break insurance you've failed me 5x already
your eyes widen as you let out a gasp. "is that the lee heeseung?" you accidentally say out loud. you wince at the realization of your mistake. the comments are both praising you for your success in getting noticed by the other top dancer on youtuber and relating to your remark.
heeseung ✔ 3s ago haha yes it's me dm me if you want to hear more about it 🤍
"oh wow... this is really cool..." you state before blinking to get you out of your stupor. "well everyone, that's going to be all for y/n's motion of dance today! thank you so much for tuning in, love you!"
you wave goodbye for a few more moments and then shut off the broadcast, closing your laptop as soon as you do. you blink twice and suddenly let out a scream.
you stop with a gasp and cover your mouth with your hands because you cannot believe you forgot that your dance studio isn't the most soundproof of places. "sorry, other dance students..." you whisper to them but more for yourself.
taking a look around your escape, your passion, you can't believe you've made it to where you are, being praised as one of the top dancers on such a vast social media platform like youtube. if anything, you guess it runs in your family, after all, you are related to choi yeonjun, who is considered 4th gen's it boy.
though people were skeptical of you at first when you came on the youtube scene as a dancer after your older brother started taking more to modeling and acting, you quickly proved them wrong by showing them your talent and bloomed from then on. of course, you can't forget to mention the person who skyrocketed just around the same time as you.
and that was the aforementioned lee heeseung. you sigh as you finish packing up your clothes and things to head back to your dorm, glancing out the window to see the sun beginning to set. it seems today was a rare early finish for you.
"i could go for a coffee... i need to finish my classics essay anyway," you mumble to yourself, throwing your bag over your shoulder before hitting the showers and changing into a more casual set of clothes. the finishing touch is a baseball cap that sits snug on your head. tightening the strap on the back and grabbing your backpack and dance bag, you finally take your leave of your beloved dance studio and return the key on the way out. fresh air meets your face, allowing you to take a whiff of the cherry blossoms that have been blooming for a month or so as you make your way to the campus café.
ding ding, the coffee shop's calm doorbell welcomes you as your nose is hit by the sweet smells of freshly ground coffee beans. "welcome!" one of the servers calls at the counter, smiling at your figure that walks closer to order. "what can i get you?"
"hi, may i have..." you scan the menu quickly for a familiar drink. "a honey cinnamon iced latte please?"
"of course, name please?"
"choi y/n," you reply.
if they recognize you, they don't make any notion of it, simply scribbling your name on the plastic cup as you make your payment. you're grateful for the normal interaction and the peacefulness of the café, especially after a surprising stream. "i'll call you when your order's ready, choi y/n-ssi," they inform you with a warm grin.
"thank you," you smile back before going to find a seat. spotting a relatively private area close by with only a pair of boys sitting at the booth, you decide to take the booth two spaces away from them. one boy, you notice, sits taller than the other, but his face is covered by a baseball cap. the other looks like a freshman, his cheeks accentuated by a pair of deep dimples.
as you take your seat, you can't help but think the boy with dimples looks rather familiar but can't seem to place your finger on it. shrugging, you simply begin preparing to write your essay by taking out your laptop and notes from your classics ge. the moment you finish is when you hear your name being called.
"choi y/n-ssi, your honey cinnamon iced latte," the server's voice calls. on your way to receive your awaiting drink, you can finally hear the voices of the two boys sitting two booths down from you.
"did your crush just say choi y/n?" the one with the hat says.
'yes, that's me,' you think to yourself nonchalantly.
"weren't you just watching their stream, heeseung hyung?" another voice says as you pick up your latte and thank the server.
wait, heeseung? as in lee heeseung? it's when you turn around with your drink in hand that you notice the two males looking straight at you. now you're able to make out the features of the boy with the cap, and there's no mistaking it.
"lee heeseung?" you mutter out loud at the same time he speaks out yours.
well, maybe that wasn't what you were expecting today, but hey, life is full of surprises, even if they are one after the other for you. after that unexpected encounter, you and heeseung acquainted yourselves, he invited you to sit with them, and now you're sitting at their table, awkwardly sipping on your latte.
"right, so should i leave?" the other boy, who you found out is studytuber and vlogger yang jungwon (which is why he looked familiar to you), blurts out. you chuckle as heeseung shakes his shoulder lightly. "what? you two clearly have to talk about something, i need to study."
"yea, yea, lover boy. make sure you say bye to your crush on the way out," the male dancer teases, causing the younger one to turn bright red.
"don't call me that, hyung," he mutters before picking up his bag and leaving the booth. sure enough, you watch as jungwon passes by the counter and erupts into a nervous mess the moment the server beams at him.
"ah... so he likes them?" you think out loud.
"yup, it's been almost four months now. i'm the reason he even knows this cafe and that server exists," heeseung mentions, making you nod courteously. he turns his attention back to you with his hand placed under his chin. "but their relationship is besides the point. let's talk about us."
"d-did you have to put it that way?" the forwardness catches you off-guard, and you suddenly have a harder time swallowing a sip of your coffee.
"sorry," he says with a teasing smile. "i just think the collab i mentioned would be good for both of us, and it'll be really fun too."
"i agree, people who like you will come to me and vice versa," you nod. "but do you know what we would be dancing to?"
"so does that mean you're in?" he asks, smile starting to grow on his face. wordlessly, you roll your eyes and hold out your hand for him to shake. that's when his full smile comes out, causing your cheeks to heat up as you think about how much more handsome it makes him look. taking your hand, heeseung shakes it with his vigorously. "alright, dance partner, we have a deal."
after much deliberation and research, the two of you finally agree on troublemaker by the duo hyuna and hyunseung. heeseung suggested this song, stating that he always wanted to do the choreo with somebody and that it's destiny that both males have a name that starts with h and ends with seung. quite frankly, it's not like you could find much anyway, besides some cool music bank mc stages, it is cool that troublemaker was originally an opposite-gender duo in the korean entertainment industry.
the choreography however is an entirely different story. at many points, hyuna's body is touched by hyunseung and vice versa, but if they can do it and stay professional, then you believe you can too. besides, dancing will always be just dancing. heeseung also assures you that if you want, the two of you can just have your hands hovering, which makes you feel relieved to have an understanding partner.
hours pass by, and you and heeseung decide to meet at your usual dance studio daily after all your classes, which wasn't hard because he also frequented the same one.
"i still can't believe we attend the same university," you say aloud as the both of you pack up your laptops and supplies.
"i know right, you would think one of us would recognize the dance studio we go to 24/7, right?" he laughs. "although, i've seen you use a different one sometimes."
"do you really watch my covers and streams often?" you ask baffled. he and you wave the workers goodbye and make your way to the brisk evening air waiting outside as the staff sends you off.
"i do, is that so hard to believe?"
"a little," you reply sheepishly.
"well, let me walk you to your dorm and prove to you how much of a choi y/n stan i am," he boasts, and you let yourself laugh freely as you walk beside him to your destination.
it's strange, knowing a famous youtuber you watched also knew and followed you, but then again, you're not exactly nobody either. when heeseung drops you off, he admits that he actually lives a few floors above you and that you two can walk home together after each rehearsal. it's even stranger, knowing a famous youtuber literally has been on your campus, in the same dorm building as you, and this whole time, the two of you have both been clueless as to the other's existence as an ordinary college student.
speaking of which, he can't be a dance major, right? otherwise, you would've already seen him! these thoughts keep you tossing and turning to the point you don't register when you fell asleep. when you wake up, you feel as if you didn't get any sleep at all, but get up and ready nevertheless, going through another regular day as a dance major.
by the time your classes are over, you walk out of the studio yawning about to stop by your dorm to freshen up and maybe fit in a nap. you're holding a hand over your mouth mid-yawn when a voice starts talking to you.
"good thing i stopped by to get coffee." you open your eyes and close your mouth to see lee heeseung holding two cups of coffee. he's dressed in an oversized white shirt and grey sweatpants, a common dance practice outfit, so why is your heart skipping so many beats. "yo, choi y/n."
"heeseung," you say, still shocked. he hands you the coffee, which is actually the same flavor you got yesterday. "thanks."
"no problem," he replies coolly. "maybe we should take a break before we get to it?"
"i'll be fine, how about we can start watching the choreo?"
"they're always ready to dance," he nods with an impressed smile. "as expected of a dance major."
the two of you walk inside and book a studio for a few hours as you raise an eyebrow at him. "wait, what major are you?"
"music production."
"that makes so much sense!" you say relieved, stepping into the studio room for the umpteenth time. "i was racking my brains wondering what major you were."
"so the famous choi y/n is curious about me?" he smirks. you groan and facepalm in response. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. let's watch the video on my tablet?"
nodding, the two of you watch carefully, eyes glued to the screen at your respective roles. you hold your breath at some touchy parts but also notice that both idols were able to shine in their solos.
"a few tweaks here and there, and it'll be perfect," heeseung comments once the video is over. "but let's go over some boundaries, yeah? let me know what you're comfortable with and what you're not."
"right," you agree, once again relieved to have such a safe and understanding partner like him. "well, i think i'm okay with you touching my arms, shoulders, and hips like hyunseung did to hyuna. i just need some time to get used to it."
"alright, that sounds good," he says nodding with a hand under his chin. "then for today, i'll just hover my hands over the places they need to be."
"what a gentleman," you tease.
he rolls his eyes playfully at you. "let's start marking."
and so that's what the two of you start on. with the video on the tablet, you go through the motions with the speed lowered, eventually picking up more moves until you're able to follow at the normal speed. as expected of the top two dancers on youtube, the two of you are quick on observing and learning the dance and get done with basic marking within 20 minutes or so.
after marking, you take a quick water break to watch the video again in full detail, officially beginning your first real practice. as promised, throughout the entirety of marking, heeseung has kept his hands to himself, but you've become comfortable enough to have him do a little more.
before you start practicing for real, you decide to speak with him. "hee," you call him as he puts down his water bottle.
"hm?" he confirms that you have his attention, looking up with his large doe-like eyes while wiping his mouth off from some excess water.
"uhm.." you fidget with your top a little before mustering up some courage. "you can do light touches now for the choreo."
"really? are you sure?" you nod at his question, causing him to come up to you and ruffle your hair lightly. you bat his hands away with a pout, smoothing out the mess he made as he laughs at you. "that's great, y/n," he says with a bright smile, unknowingly making your heart beat a little faster as you nod again. in your head, you rush to cover up the physical reaction with an excuse that it's just from the amount of exercise you've done.
the two of you stand in front of the mirror, ready to go. before the music starts, heeseung turns to you and says, "just let me know if i make you uncomfortable at all."
"i'll be fine," you reassure him with a small smile. that's when the song begins, and the sparks start to fly. every move flowed like water, yet every touch between the two of you was like electricity as if the two elements were working together instead of fighting. even though the touches are light, they still put chills up your spine, in a way that you can only describe with the phrase "meant to happen."
was fate moving its course to put this match together, or were you imagining it? you're not sure, but you grin while catching your breath once the first practice is over. falling to the floor softly, you sit with your hands splayed behind you and let out a relieved sigh. "ahh... dancing is so... great!"
heeseung chuckles at your reaction and offers a hand to get you up. "i'm glad you think that because we got a lot more practice ahead of us, partner."
"yup!" you say with a widening smile. the moment you took his hand, you felt an electric jolt that almost made you let go. getting up, you shake it off and barely catch the expression on your dance partner's face. "is something the matter?"
he blinks a bit before he's shaking his head with that charming smirk of his. "nope! let's practice!"
practice, practice, practice. that's how the next few hours go. and just like the day before, heeseung walks you to your dorm building, this time the conversation about how excited the two of you are for the recording.
that's basically how the next four or so days go, now that heeseung came into your life. your daily routine of wake up, eat, class, dance, repeat was shaken by him, because now he was a part of it. it's an indescribable feeling, hanging out with him. the best word, or phrase actually, is the same one you used while dancing with him: meant to be.
so when you finally get to the day of recording, you almost don't want it to end. at least, that's what you're telling your best friend and makeup artist, kim sunoo.
"friend, you're telling me that you and this guy have been following along to..." he tells you to look up as he curls your eyelashes. "a dance like that for four days and you've been getting shocks this whole time?"
"i mean, yeah?"
"y/n, i love you, but you're missing a little something, aren't you?"
"wha-!?"
"pucker up, sweetie, we're making your lips look kissable," sunoo commands. you do an eye-roll but do as he says. "if you don't ask him out or do something by the end of this, you can at least kiss your best shot at a boyfriend goodbye with luscious lips."
he finishes applying the color and asks you to rub your lips together and make that pop sound. "perfect," your best friend compliments. "go out there and get your mans."
"thank you, sunoo!" you say, gazing at your reflection in the mirror and loving the way he accentuated your features. "by the way, you're all talk. you should ask your celebrity crush out when they appear on your channel."
"i'll get there when i get there!" he whines and starts pushing you out of his dorm room. "just go get 'em, tiger."
with that, you make your way to the dance studio where heeseung is waiting for you, dressed in hyunseung's iconic suit with the leopard-patterned blazer. your heart quickens, seeing how much more handsome he looks dressed up, hair slicked back and some makeup done. he looks up upon hearing the door open and his mouth slightly hangs open as well.
the both of you are silent as you approach him, in your equally bedazzling outfit, sheer to mimic hyuna's stage dress. "you look amazing," the two of you say at the same time. stunned at the simultaneous sentence, you two immediately start guffawing at how this was unlike your usual interactions.
"that was so awkward!" you blurt out, unable to contain your laughter.
"yea, not like us at all," he admits while he wipes a stray tear from laughing too hard away. smiling at each other, you admire the way his eyes reflect your image and sparkle. "you ready to get this show on the road."
"ready as i'll ever be." the two of you get into your positions on the opposite ends of the room, and heeseung starts the camera and the music soon after. you take each step slowly to meet him in the middle as he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips to give it a kiss while smirking. you keep your face professional as the two of you take a few steps forward, the back of his fingers curled over the front of yours.
starting back-to-back, you walk forward a bit before the beat drops and heeseung's part begins. you're on autopilot as you dance your fingers from his chest to his shoulders, and then the chorus comes. hips swaying, you're able to feel his hands' light taps on your body as the two of you lose yourself to the music you've danced to hundreds of times this week.
then, it's your killing part as you lipsync hyuna's rap and take bold steps around heeseung's body, ending up behind him to bring your hands over his shoulders and make a scratching movement across his chest. you step towards his side, do your thing, and walk away as if playing hard to get.
you wait for his part during the bridge and make a side glance towards him before moving towards him and performing the hip-heavy part of the chorus together. your partner moves his face up along your arm, taking it in like you're a statue. you then act like you brush him away when heeseung gets close enough. after this second chorus, you're leaving him to do his big solo, watching carefully as he makes his every move precise and crisp yet flow well.
it's the last chorus now, and this time, you can't take your eyes off each other as you finally face one another. you stay drowning in his shades of brown without a single misstep until you have to walk away from him. you wait for him to come towards you, back slightly turned away as he jaunts forward, making his way to be captured by your hand behind his neck.
the last breath of the song is the one where you're supposed to turn your head away as his own chases yours, but this time, you brave forward and lean in close. the music fades away, but all you hear is his breathing, feeling it against your own.
you stay like this, ensnared in each other's arms, forgetting about everything except the person wrapped close to you as you feel his every breath against your lips and every inhale and exhale under your hand. he searches your eyes, looking for some kind of sign. "do you mind if i—"
that was all you needed before you're pressing your lips against his. it only takes seconds for him to kiss you back, moving his hands from their previous position on your hips to hold your face. becoming breathless from dancing was one thing, becoming breathless from kissing heeseung was another thing entirely, it was in a league of its own you note as you pull away and rest your forehead on his.
"we'll have to edit that out," you say after what seemed like ages of taking each other in while chuckling.
"i have a better idea than editing."
"oh, and what's that, handsome?"
"look at you getting all bold, troublemaker," heeseung replies with that smile of his. he shakes his head, moving away from you and taking your hand in his. "how about we go on our first official date as youtube's top dancer couple?"
"that does sound like a better idea," you agree, your own smile widening.
"then let's make it happen, sweetheart."
bonus! - click for full images
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taglist: @cha-raena @imjustme-things @misoiishi @rikitaiyaki send an ask to join the taglist! :3c permanent taglist: @fiantomartell
a/n: wow this was a long one!! i'm not sure if i detailed all the movements well, but i hope you all enjoyed it nevertheless <3
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rosie-chaeyoung · 3 years
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☽ 𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲 [ 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘁 ] ☽
title ; 3am - red velvet - irene
summary ; It’s late at night and the world was asleep. Well, except for Irene. When she wakes you up in the middle of the night for her personal needs things quickly take a turn.
word count ; 2288
pairing(s) / group ; irene of red velvet
warning(s) ; 18+, mommy kink, use of handcuffs, oral sex ( giving ), fingering, dom!reader, sub!irene
genre ; smut
༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧ ༉‧₊˚✧
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Quiet crickets sang a song of slumber as the sun had set in for a soft slumber. It was a peaceful night to say the least. Y/n and her girlfriend, Irene, both lay in bed asleep. The world outside snored quietly as the couple slept peacefully. A cool breeze blew every now and then making Joohyun move closer to her taller girlfriend. The clock ticked by slowly, each minute taking it's time to show. Irene's eyes peeked opened, her long eyelashes batted as she turned looking to her lover.
She was still asleep, but she was gorgeous. Her (h/c) hair fell on her pillow and her breathing was steady. She looked so peaceful. The brunette on the other hand was now in distress. She was now wide awake. Tossing and turning on her back, she was having trouble going back to sleep. The last few memories she had weren’t helping. Small flashes of the wet dream went through her mind, they were much too vivid to let go. “Ah. Wait, go f-faster Y/n" Her breath hitched, this was becoming too much to bare alone.
It felt all too surreal. “Moan my name baby" She turned on her side, slightly gripping the bedsheets underneath her frail form. She had to stop thinking about this. "Y-Y/n.. please.." Irene could feel her face turning a dark shade of red, she was becoming hotter and hotter by the second. "Louder baby" With a breathy sigh she realized she couldn't take it any longer. Either she was going to get out of bed or do something rash. “Ah~! I'm about to cum, Y/n~!" She easily decided the ladder. Irene pushed herself up from the soft mattress, putting both her hands on her lover.
She shook her side to side whispering a soft, "Wake up" each time. This continued for about two more minutes before the (e/c) eyed girl started to grow conscious. She opened her eyes, sitting up to look at her lover. "What? I'm up.." Y/n rubbed her eyes and stretched. She had no clue what time it was, but it was way too late for this. "I, um need your help with something." the idol trailed on. Y/n looked at the clock, '03:24' it read. "What's so important for you to wake me up this late? Are you alright?"
Y/n, now fully awake, gave all of her attention to the brown haired female. She figured it must’ve been important if she got waken up for it. Hopefully nothing along the lines of being hurt. “I'm horny.." Joohyun mumbled. Was she ashamed? Slightly, but it was either tell her or deal with this for the rest of the night alone. Y/n groaned rolling her eyes. "Baby, you woke me up at three in the morning to tell me you're horny?" She sighed out. It was unnecessary, she could’ve easily waited a couple more hours.
Or, she could have fixed the issue herself. Anything would have been better than being woken up this late. Irene furrowed her eyebrows and gently pushed her lover to lay on her back. She climbed over from her part of the bed to Y/n's. Straddling her girlfriend’s waist, she sat on top with an annoyed look on her delicate features. Y/n, in return, put her hands on Joohyun’s small waist looking up at the pouting girl.
"What's wrong now?" She asked aloud. Irene ran her hands across the h/c haired girls toned body, she trailed her finger lightly up and down. "I'm being serious about this... And you won't help me! I’ve helped you whenever you need it!" Her pout seemed to sink in deeper at her statement. Y/n exhaled, this was somewhat her fault. The only time her girlfriend became whiny like was when she was needy. Usually every time she became needy she would take care of her. She was just so tired right now though. So reluctantly, she agreed. "Fine fine. Damn, you're lucky I love you.."
The dominant female changed around their positions so she was on top and Irene lay on her back. "But since you did wake me up, we’ll play by my rules. So tell me just how badly you need me.” She laid her hands on Irene's thighs, pushing her legs more and more apart. She slid her knee in between her lovers aching legs, and let out a stiff laugh when Irene bucked her hips forward. "Seriously Y/n, hurry up! This isn’t fair so stop teasing me!" Irene glared up at the dominant female who still hovered her.
Although Y/n smiled, her eyes quickly darkened once she heard the sentence slip from her lover. Reaching up she pulled her wrists together holding them in one place. Her tone started off condescending as she spoke, and slowly let it trail for a better effect. “Listen babe. You woke me up for this. I could be asleep. But you're horny, so tone it down. Okay?" Irene listened and shrunk back into the bed letting her pout return. "Yes..." She lowered her head leaving only a few inches between the two. "Yes what?" She urged on. Irene's cheeks grew hot again but responded. "Yes mommy."
Now pleased, she leaned down capturing the elder females lips in her own. Irene moaned into the soft kiss letting Y/n slide her tongue deep into her mouth. Turning her head to deepen their struggle for dominance, the pale skinned female happily gave in midway. Y/n leaned over to the side of her bed feeling around for a certain object, their lips still connected. Finding what she wanted, she sat up showing her toy to the submissive girl. This was personally one of her favorites. “What? No! You know I hate being handcuffed!"
Irene told her while looking at the silver play thing. "Exactly. That’s the point of this babe." Y/n leaned downward locking the handcuffs to Irene's wrists. She squirmed already hating the new feeling. Irene never did like these restraints, because when she's in them she can never touch her girlfriend. Leaving scratches on her back was a huge turn on for Irene, so to not be able to do that upset her greatly. She hated this. Y/n chuckled looking at Irene's vulnerable state.
"Don’t make that face. You and I both know this is what happens when you get all bratty." But this seemed like too much talking for her liking. Y/n once more leaned down and let her hands find themselves underneath Joohyun’s shirt. She tugged at it, before pulling it off leaving her in a black lace bra and panties. Fortunately enough, Irene never sleeps in pants. "It seems like you came prepared." She teased. The brunette shook her head disagreeing.
"It just sort of happened..." Y/n shrugged her shoulders while going to unclip and take off the lace bra. She didn't waste any time enveloping her significant other. Putting Irene's sensitive bud in her mouth and twirling the other in her hand, Y/n watched Irene let out soft moans. This was her joy of being in control, the trill that ran through her. The only thing she wanted to her was her name being moaned over and over, and as of now she was getting that. "Y/n, ah, please." She panted out.
Y/n loved the feeling of teasing the brown eyed female, this was pure torture. Trailing light and soft butterfly kisses down her toned body Irene was having trouble with the silver restraints on her wrists. Hating the feeling of being tied down she tugged at the cold cuffs, hoping they would come loose. But they didn't budge. Y/n finally tugged the hem of Irene's matching panties, already feeling how soaked they were.
She smirked, her lover always made teasing easy. She always so sensitive to her touch, just the slightest of moves and she could have her older lover turn into a hot moaning mess. The best example of this would be now. "Aww, did you really need my attention that badly?" Y/n began pulling the black lace material off Irene's slender legs. In return, Irene tugged her legs away. "Wait."
Y/n looked up to Irene's dark and lust filled eyes, she was so stunning. She made a humming like noise telling her to continue. She would never do anything without permission, so if she needed to wait then she would do that. "This isn't fair. You have to take off your clothes too. I can’t be the only one naked here." So that’s what she wanted ? She laughed at her submissive's order. She knew it wasn't fair, but she also knew that teasing was still fun.
So she did take her clothes off, just not as quickly as Irene wanted. She put her hand on her shirt hem pulling it off slowly, doing the same with her shorts. "Y/n! Please, I really need you right now!" Irene had been holding back her pleas, but this was her breaking point. She wasn’t even sure how she held onto them this long truly. Her lower regions were throbbing with anticipation and her body was so hot she could’ve swore she would set the bed on fire.
Her breathing was off, and she couldn't hold in anymore of her waiting. She wasn’t the only one having fun though. As mentioned, this is what really turned on Y/n. Being in charge wasn’t always easy, especially with someone with an attitude like Joohyun’s. Yet, times like this really proved she was where she belonged. "As you wish princess." In one big motion she took off the last bit of clothing clinging to her body. Irene, now feeling self conscious of her own body, closed her legs.
Y/n noticed this and almost immediately spread the brunettes legs. With one hand on her hip and the other on her thigh Y/n didn't waste much time going to work. All it took was a few small licks, a bit of sucking, and she was already a throbbing, moaning mess. Joohyun arched her back multiple times letting Y/n stick her tongue fully into her. Her moans were becoming louder by the second as she began tugging harshly at the handcuffs.
She hated not being able to touch her, it was one of the things that just drove her crazy. "Y/n, o-off. Take these off m-" Her 'sentence' cut itself short as another loud moan followed her words. Her climax was coming fast and it was coming hard at that. No, not yet she couldn’t let it happen yet. She wanted these off of her first, she hadn’t to get them off. She pulled harder at the restraints, at this point she was just trying to run away from the pleasure. It was becoming too overwhelming for her.
Y/n made room with her tongue by adding in two fingers. And once she was adjusted, a third to maximize her pleasure as much as possible. Irene's legs began to shake and she began to squirm in her place. "Ah! Y/n! J-Just move your hand, f-faster!" She wanted to ride out her climax and this was her way of doing it. Just to tease her a little more, Y/n slowed her pace slightly. “What’s the magic word?” Joohyun began to push herself toward her lovers hand as she was able to stutter out the word.
“P-Please..” The one little word was all Y/n needed to continue. She went back to her same actions but this time sped things up significantly. Using her thumb Y/n circled around the elder females most sensitive part making her throw her head back, and soon enough let the knot in her stomach break. Breathing heavily she laid her back on the cool bed. It was the only thing in the room that didn't seem hot.
Y/n didn’t consider herself an impatient person, but at the moment she could definitely see why she may be label that way. She pulled Irene's legs apart again and began to ease her into another climax. Irene was sensitive though, so any sort of stimulation down there would be torture. "S-Stop it..." She whined out weakly. There was little fight put up before her legs began to tremble from pleasure once more. The h/c-ette began all over again to give her girlfriend the satisfaction she deserved.
She started to squirm again and now bite down on her lip. "Fuck!" She let her swear slip from her mouth. Once more she arched her back off the bed letting her moans fall out simultaneously. The knot formed over, and soon broke again. Small sighs of pleasure floated from her as she gripped the sheeting beneath her. She had hit her climax for the second time. Joohyun yelled out in pleasure, moaning the (e/c) eyed girl's name.
She let out one last shaky moan until she let herself cum. She sighed in relief, the pleasure was over. "Good girl, you did so well." Y/n moved the wet, frizzled hair from her pale girlfriend's face. She was a panting, sticky, sweaty mess. And that's how she liked it. She reached up unlocking Irene's handcuffs and throwing them to a random corner of the room. Irene quickly clung to Y/n pulling her back down on the bed with herself. After a moment of breathing in her sweet scent, she flipped their positions.
She now straddled Y/n who laid under her satisfied with the past events. Irene showed off her pearly white smile looking into her lovers eyes.
"Round two?" ~
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swcetnight · 3 years
Text
It’s Definitely You || kth (m.) 1
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synopsis:
Working as a barista in NYC has its perks, but when your ultimate dream of being on the Broadway stage tends to come crumbling down, the only thing that raises your spirits is the comfort of a complete stranger… who seems to have known you for far longer than you thought.
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masterlist here
→ pairing: taehyung x barista!reader (also musical theatre performer cause I had to)
→ genre: fluff, angst, future smut | strangers(ish) to lovers… i won’t give the truth away... gonna have to read and find out for yourself ;))
-> warnings: self doubt, adorable plant names... there's really not many warnings for this chapter!
→ word count: 7,973
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authors note:
alrighty everyone... here we go! (i’m so nervous) this is the first chapter of this series (which it took me 50 years to figure out whether I wanted this to be a series or a two shot... lets just say that it's gonna be a long one, so I think that a series is the best way to go)! this story is really near and dear to my heart, so 1. I really hope you enjoy it and 2. I hope all of you know how hard it was to write this into words... my goodness. now, make sure you look for clues throughout this series... there's a secret in here that won't be revealed for a while ;)) but if any of you have ideas, please be sure to send an ask while we wait to find out together! anyways, I hope you enjoy !!
authors thanks:
a HUGE thank you to @hantaev and @monvante for beta-reading and being so so supportive of me and this little (but not so little) story... y'all truly have no idea how helpful you've been and how thankful I am to be friends with both of you! forreal, y'all are the greatest and I'm sending you all my love!!
also, if you are enjoying this story, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask (on or off anon) and let me know your thoughts, feelings, theories, etc!! i would love to hear from all of you 🤍
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If time-travel existed, you would be on the first time machine and head back to 2 years ago. A time when you had a free schedule and were able to go out on Friday nights. A time when you felt confident in yourself and were raring to pursue theatre. A time when you didn't have this job (cause apparently, theatre is impossible to get into) that forces you awake at 4 in the morning for the opening shift.
You can't say you don't love your Barista job because you do. Still, when your alarm wakes you from the beautiful dream of performing on the big stage, you have to use everything within yourself to crawl out of your sheet cocoon… and that is unacceptable.
What's even more unacceptable is the fact that your co-worker, Jimin, hasn't arrived at the Academia Cafe yet. You have about 30 minutes to prepare for the morning peak; brew coffees, set up the bakery items, clear the boards "coffee of the day," etc. The problem is, it takes up all of the 30 allotted minutes— and you can't start prepping early because Jimin has the keys to the cafe.
You’ve worked at the Academia Cafe for about a year now, taking a break from your endless theatre audition schedule— since that was getting you absolutely nowhere. No matter how badly you want it, nothing seems to work. No matter how many times you practice, it never seems to be good enough. Let’s just say, you took this job at the cafe because you were over the repetitive let downs.
… But here you are, with a “Jimin being late” let down.
[To: Jimin ☕️] hey, you almost here? times ticking, keys!
You stuff your phone into your winter coat pocket, the brown material catching snowflakes as they fall gently from the cloudy sky. You love this weather; it's always been your favorite. When you were little, you used to pretend to be a dragon; running all over your front yard and releasing heavy breaths that chilled in the air and spread like smoke. You don't enjoy the cold, but the entire feel of winter has you cozying up in a blanket with hot cocoa and a good book… nothing could beat that.
A buzz in your pocket catches your attention.
[From: Jimin ☕️] Hey! Look up.
Your eyes immediately lift to see Jimin smiling a few feet away, shuffling through the snow as he drags the keys out of his pocket. He's sporting a heavy blue coat that reaches down to his knees — making his short stature appear even smaller — topped with a matching blue beanie. Despite his tardiness today, you’ve always been fond of Jimin. He's like a ray of sunshine, beaming through the skyscrapers of the city and making everyone around him happy just by flashing a single smile. Honestly, you wish you could sneak some of that happiness from him and lock it somewhere safe... so you can save it for a time when you need it most.
"Your timing is impeccable." He laughs, gently placing the keys into the front door lock. "You texted me right as I was rounding the corner."
"I'm telling you, Jimin; we're always on the same wavelength."  Smirking, you make your way through the doors of the cafe, greeted by the warmth that surrounds you like your sheet cocoon did this morning, but accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee. "Except for the fact that you, my friend, are late, so now we only have twenty-eight minutes until opening."
Old, rustic book pages litter the cafe's dark walls, executing the dark academia theme flawlessly. You have to give the interior designers a hand, what with the black stools and high dark wood counters etched with different story pages. You wonder if anyone took the time to read the stories that covered the cafe; maybe the stories moved them in a personal way. Maybe there was a reason why they read them, a part of the butterfly effect of their life.
With a quick survey of the main room, you shuffle into the back to put your belongings away. "You would think it would be less busy on the streets because of the snow," Jimin calls, already working on the first batch of light roast coffee. "But unfortunately for me, that was not the case, and I nearly lost my life multiple times on the way here because of how slick it is."
A laugh emits from your lips, echoing in the backroom as you throw your apron over your head.
You begin with date labeling all of the pastry items, placing them accordingly onto the pastry cart; croissants, muffins, scones, etc. Then, you move onto organizing syrups and setting toppings along the bar where drinks are made. Bar is your personal favorite position-- since you're able to make the drinks… Plus, you're so busy that your shift goes by way faster. The sooner you're done, the sooner you get to go home and sleep.
“All set?” Jimin questions when you finish setting the steaming pitchers next to the espresso machine, tossing the rag he used to wipe down tables into the sanitizer bin. You give him a nod, taking a quick once over of the bar. “Alright,” he claps, “let's do this.”
This morning runs like every Friday morning, busy and fast. The sounds of coffee glasses clinking and the calling of customer names at the hand-off station echoes through the air.
Ahhhh, the scenery in coffee shops; the quiet hush over the room as soft jazz plays over the speakers. It’s soothing, all encompassing, and extremely helpful for motivation… You used to go to a local cafe for homework when you were still in school.
You take a breath, relaxing against the back counter as you overhear a conversation a group of regulars are having. It’s the usual small talk: the weather, families, sharing pictures of recent events. Coming up with questions of the day for customers becomes easier after knowing their stories, so you subconsciously listen in often.
Because of this, you almost don't notice the man waiting at the register, wholly delved into the neighboring conversation— only looking over when you hear your name called.
"Y/n?"
You turn your head, catching eyes with the stranger behind the counter who holds his credit card ready. The first thing you notice is that he's young, probably around your age, wearing a brown turtleneck and white slacks. His eyes are dark, standing above his perfectly sculpted nose and lips. His hair is dark as well, forehead drowning within the wavy bangs that fall over his eyebrows as he takes you in. To be completely honest, he's probably the most handsome man you've had the pleasure of seeing… is that weird? You don’t know him… maybe that is weird.
The second thing you notice is that he looks completely anxious, hands grasping the edge of the counter like there's a thousand-foot drop below him. Why is he looking straight at you while doing that? Maybe you should call Jimin to take ove-
“Is it really you?” He questions, taking you aback.
"I-" You clear your throat, walking forward to meet him at the register, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
With an intake of breath, he releases the counter as he studies you. Was he… crying? You swear his eyes were not this bloodshot three seconds ago.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?...possibly.
You shake your head slightly, “I… I’m sorry. I don't-"
Wait… is he a regular? You swear you haven't seen him come into the cafe before. Shoot.. What if he is? The number one thing your boss has made perfectly clear: remember the regulars, so they come back and feel at home; recognized. Customer connection was the most important thing at the Academia Cafe… He's probably a regular.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
He's staring at you. Full-on staring, jaw slacked. Shifting uncomfortably in your keds, you eye beside you to see Jimin working away at a macchiato. You consider changing places, nearly walking over to him before the customer speaks again.
"It's- It's Taehyung."
You force a smile, nodding while he continues to stare at you. He seems a bit more hesitant, his eyes looking in different directions but ultimately falling back onto your own. Even if he tried, he couldn't hide the rosy color that spreads onto his cheeks. What was this guy's problem?
"Taehyung! Awesome, well, what can I get for you today?" You chirp, attempting to brighten up your increasing discomfort. He might have mistook you for someone else, you decide, jumping back into your customer service personality: kind and quick to the point.
Taehyung doesn't move, training his eyes on you. You've never had a man's undivided attention before, since boyfriends were never an option. When you were a teenager, you stayed home most of the time in your hometown, and the boys there were all just in it to take your pants off. You avoided them and never really caught their attention, so you can't help the uncomfortable blush that grows on your cheeks. It’s short lived though, your nerves dissolving as soon as you notice a single tear fall onto the front of his shirt.
Oh. Okay, he’s definitely crying.
"Sir..." You begin, leaning in closer to avoid drawing attention. "Is everything alright?"
"I…" The shake in his voice is evident as he puts his credit card back into his wallet, still refusing to break eye contact. “Excuse me." Without another word, he turns on his heel and rushes towards the exit, clocking a customer in the shoulder in his rush. He apologizes quickly, bowing to them before glancing behind to make eye contact with you once more.
You wish you could read minds, wondering what the hell is going through his brain… but you notice the tiniest gleam of a hopeful smile that hides on his lips.
And then he’s gone.
“I swear it was the strangest thing, Jimin.” You speak nervously, tugging at the strings of your apron and lifting it over your head. It had been busy all day, despite a quick thirty minute break when everyone had left and the cafe was suddenly a deserted island. You appreciated the busyness, it made your shift go by faster. Right now, all you wanted to do was go home, eat a fat bowl of icecream and distract yourself from the events of today with a movie. Thank God your shift was over.
“Maybe he thought you were someone else?” Jimin insists, taking a bite into the extra Blueberry Muffin you’d accidentally heated when you were distracted by the events that occurred earlier.
“Yeah? Well, I must be the spitting image because he was totally freaked out.”
“You never know, y/n. Or, maybe he just used that as an excuse to talk to you.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, throwing your rolled up apron at him harshly before you grab your belongings.
“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious. This guy looked like he had seen his ex… He was crying. I don’t think he was into me.”
“Maybe his eyes were watering from the cold wind?” He offers.
“Enough to cry actual tears?” You scoffed, “C’mon Jimin.”
He shrugs defensively, picking up his things so the two of you can head out a few minutes earlier than usual. Whenever the baristas have a chance to leave early, they take it. “If he comes back, then ask him: hey, dude, what’s your deal?”Jimin works his way through the cafe, throwing an excess chair upside down onto the table with the rest of them.
You hold your hand above your heart, which is still beating at a faster pace due to this discussion. Can hearts even beat this fast? This can’t be healthy… “Oh wow, you have such a way with words. That definitely won’t make him feel uncomfortable!”
Yes. Sarcasm coping mechanism.
“Y/n.” Jimin meets you at the door and puts his hands on your shoulders, making extra sure he has your attention. “Go home. Don’t think too much into it… He was probably high or something and mistook you for his ex that dumped him and now he’s moping through the city and getting into all sorts of trouble and he’ll forget that he even came here tomorrow morning. Okay?”
You nod slowly, exiting the cafe with Jimin on your tail. "Don't worry, y/n." Jimin adds, "He probably won't even come back." He locks the door and gives you one last thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction, calling out at the last second. “See you tomorrow!”
The forced smile on your face appears again (looks like this was a regular occurrence today), waving him goodbye.
Yeah… tomorrow.
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Jimin was right. The handsome crying stranger was probably never coming back.
It has been a few weeks since you met him for the first time. Now, it feels like a distant memory. He hadn’t shown up to the cafe the day after the encounter, or the day after that, or the day after that, and eventually you’d come to the conclusion that he was probably never going to show his face again out of pure embarrassment. You can’t say you blame him. You’d be embarrassed too if you stared at and cried over a random stranger.
Still, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment... You'd kind of hoped you could figure out what his problem was, maybe ease his mind a little if you really did look like a past lover. You would make sure he knew that it wasn't you. What if he was avoiding the cafe because he literally thought you were someone else? Great… now you just feel bad.
"Y/n? Are you listening?" Jimin beckons over the phone.
"Huh? What?" You bounce back to reality, the soft comforter of your bed lying beneath you as you stare out the window. Thanks to your wonderful apartment search, you have a beautiful view of the city. Jimin had helped you find a place when you first moved here. The two of you had met when you visited to check out the first apartment options; he even took you out for a drink afterward to celebrate the first days' completion. Jimin had immediately clicked with you, as he does with everyone-- he was the kind of person to make friends insanely quickly. He must've been super popular in high school... unlike you.
"Y/n Y/l/n. I am giving you a chance to meet more people, and you're not even listening to me!" He cries, a light smack coming from the other end (probably from him slamming his hand on the table).
"Okay, okay-- I'm sorry. I'm listening now; what's up?"
With a deep sigh, he speaks again. "Party. My house. Tonight. It's not gonna be wild, don't worry... it's just a get-together with some of my friends, and you can have a few drinks if you would like to."
Gnawing at your bottom lip, you look over towards the clock on your nightstand. 5:00. "I don't know..." You begin, the bed shifting as you raise into a seated position. "I have to work tomorrow morn-"
"Already got your shift covered." He deadpans.
"What??"
"I already got your shift covered, so you have no excuse."
This sly guy.
"Who covered it?" You question, setting the audio to speaker-phone as you rummage through old text messages you haven't gone through (to prep for your "thank you for covering my shift" text message).
“Jin.” Noted.
“So…” Jimin continues, “are you coming?”
You can't even remember the last time you met new people, let alone gone to a party. Parties weren't necessarily your thing, especially with your busy schedule of workdays and auditions-- you just never had the time. You should be excited, right?
Well, you aren't.
"Jimin, I don't know… I'm not really a huge fan of parties." You mumble over the phone, picking at the lone string that popped out of its stitch on your comforter.
"Y/n, it's a small get-together, and it's not gonna be that kind of party. Believe me; it'll be really chill. It's just me, you, a few other coworkers, and some friends from my journalism class."
You chew at your bottom lip, looking over at your closet to see a single green cocktail dress that you hadn't worn in years. The memory of the dress was a good one… you had just finished up curtain call for The Addams Family and wore that dress to the after-party. It's a short sleeve, layered green dress that flows just over your knees, the same color sash tying the waist in a floppy bow. You blush at the memory of winning best dressed.
A pause, “Okay.” You conclude. “I’ll go.”
Jimin was honest about how chill it would be; soft music plays in the background as the group sits around the table playing cards. A basketball game is playing on the TV, desperate for attention as a player scores a 3-pointer, but no one is watching. Shuffling of cards is the only sound heard in the room as the game continues.
The atmosphere is calm… quiet…
“BULLSHIT.”
The immediate crumble of everyone’s mood causes the loud “HELL YEAH” that makes you jump in your seat.
"And that is how it's done, Ladies and Gentlemen." Jungkook (your fellow coworker) claps, his smile brighter than the sunset that seeps through the curtains on the opposite side of the room.
"And that's on cheating!" Jimin picks up the cards in the center of the table, gathering them clumsily back into a pile.
"It's called having skill," Jungkook replies, holding his hands up as he smirks at his opponents.
"No, it's called luck." Yoongi finalizes as he puts his hand of cards down on the table with a roll of his eyes. You haven’t met Yoongi before until tonight. He’s one of Jimin's friends from Journalism Class.
When you arrived, you decided to sit out of this round and learn to play before joining the game-- knowing you; you would've been crushed within the first minutes of playing. Card games weren’t exactly a skill of yours— board games on the other hand were where it’s at! That, and charades. For the sake of the party, a card game didn’t sound too bad this time around— so you poke at Jimin to give you the hand as he serves cards for everyone else.
“Wait, wait, wait—“ Jimin pauses, his hand disappearing beneath the table to grab his phone. “Hello?”
“I’m not Irish, so does luck really count?” Jungkook questions in a hushed whisper, nudging Yoongi in the side.
“Oh hey...yeah... it’s apartment 205.” Jimin continues.
“You’re so funny, Jk. Maybe you’ll actually become successful if you choose stand-up comedy rather than becoming a musician.” Yoongi replies nonchalantly, his cat-like eyes staring at the abandoned pile of cards before he seems to come to the decision to shuffle them himself. He gives you a small smile when you hold your hand out to signal that you’re joining in this round.
“Mhm, you can just walk on in! Doors unlocked… okay.. alright, see ya in a minute.” When Jimin's phone is down, Yoongi passes a hand of cards to him.
“Think you can beat me, Y/n?” Jungkook asks,”Since apparently these four can’t?” He motions to Yoongi and Jimin, glancing at the other two players of the game: Hoseok (Jimins other classmate) and his girlfriend, Faith.
“I think I can.” You say, smirking at the determined expression on Jungkooks face. Even if you weren’t very fond of card games, there was one thing you were even less fond of: losing.
“Mmm, might want to rethink that, but okay.” Jungkook replies. The two of you are death staring when the sound of the front door creaking open catches the attention of everyone else at the table. Jimin shoots out of his chair.
“Taehyung!”
You freeze.
"You-" He pauses, taking another sharp breath and running a hand through his hair. If you thought he couldn't get more attractive, you were wrong. "Do you know me?"
Attractive? Yes. Psycho?... possibly.
“I’m so sorry, there're so many people that come to visit us and sometimes I forget the regulars!” You apologize. “That’s my fault… remind me of your name again?”
"It's- It's-."
“Taehyung, you just missed me creaming everyone in bullshit.” Jungkook boasts. Your eyes are glued to the side of Jungkook's head, not daring to make eye contact with the source of your nerves the past few weeks.
“Oh did I?” The familiar, deep voice utters.
Okay.. you can’t help but look…
Holy—it’s actually him.
Immediate regret sinks into your soul when you see him. God, he’s even handsomer than you remember. A white woolen sweater hangs over a pair of his black pants, matched with white sneakers and accenting the head of dark wavy hair you’d been thinking about since you last saw him.
“Yep!” Jungkook continues. “And now Y/n’s about to get shitfaced too.”
The moment his eyes swiftly glance your way is the moment you crumble and turn your head back to Jungkook. You had hoped to make a sly remark, something along the lines of “in your dreams,” but you’re caught breathless from the tension in the room. The tension only the two of you are aware of. He must be tense too, right?
“I wouldn’t underestimate her.” You hear out of Taehyung's mouth, stealing a look at his face once more. He’s smirking at Jungkook, hanging his coat on the hook beside yours, oblivious of the way you’re basically dissecting his every move.
“Have you met Y/n?” Jimin questions, provoking Taehyung's eyes to fall back onto yours. This time, you don’t look away.
He doesn’t answer right away, making you more nervous than you should be— the silence deafening as you make to explain, “We-“
“No.” He states plainly, cutting you off. An innocent smile plays on his lips as he looks at Jimin and places his messenger bag beside the door.
No? Uhhh, was he not the guy who pretended to know who you were and cried in front of you without even explaining why? Nope, it’s definitely him.
“I’m Taehyung.” He calls in your direction, offering you a boxy smile and a small nod, “Don’t let Jungkook fool you. A girl pinched him when we were in grade school. He barely lasted five seconds before running away screaming.” Taehyung moved to the table, sitting beside the man he just brutally embarrassed.
“That girl was terrifying. She was way taller than all the other sixth graders. It was an unfair situation.” Jungkook protested, sinking in his chair as he shuffled the cards he held in his hand.
You couldn’t help but stare dumbly at Taehyung. Was he embarrassed of his outburst at the cafe that he just hopes you forgot about him? You guess you didn’t exactly meet each other, other than a few words exchanged before he disappeared out the door. He probably doesn’t want his friends to know about what happened. Or did he not recognize you and completely forgot about the whole ordeal?
Okay, it’s fine… totally fine.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” you laugh, “no more coming in late, Jk. Or I’ll have to pinch you.”
Jungkook merely rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. You see the crinkle in Taehyung's eyes as he laughs, the boxy smile taking root on his face again… a smile you’ve begun to enjoy the look of.
Hey. Snap out of it. This guy is so confusing. That’s a red card.
You straighten up in your seat, catching Jimin's attention when you move towards the kitchen, motioning with your hand to signal that you’re getting another drink. You have a feeling you’re gonna need some more alcohol to get through the evening.
Jimins place is clean, every knick knack placed neatly where it belongs; accompanied by the smell of potted plants that he keeps by his windows. Little name tags are attached to the plant stems: Flo, Sprout, Bob. He names his plants. Sweet.
He, like you, has a great view of the city too, a mid-size window perched above his breakfast nook where a small potted plant (quotabley named “bean”) grows. The city is bustling below as you reach for a beer, shrugging off the fact that you hate beer, but at least the taste will distract you from Tae-
“Hey.” You hear a soft voice call from the kitchen archway. When you turn you nearly drop the bottle out of your hand. Taehyung gives you a soft smile.
“Hey! Uh.. did you want a beer, or are you a wine guy?” You question, cringing at how much higher your voice sounds at his close proximity.
“I— Sorry, neither.” He starts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he makes his way around the island. “I uh- I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
You nod slightly, “Yeah of course… what’s up?”
“Um,” he’s nervous, you notice. “I just wanted to apologize about the whole thing at the cafe a few weeks ago.. I was— not in the right state of mind.” He meets your eyes hesitantly, “you just look like someone I know from a long time ago and it kind of.. took me by surprise, I guess.”
Jimin was right. You offer him a smile, shaking your head in disbelief, “You know what, I truly thought that was the reason… It’s totally fine. I’m not who you think I am, by the way.”
A flicker of something crosses his features at your comment, something you can’t quite pick up, but he changes it quickly to a smirk. “Obviously.” He laughs, “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.. I’m not weird, I swear.”
“Mmm, that’s what they all say.” You tease.
He laughs, a soft sound that you want to hear over and over again. “You’ve got me there.” He takes a pause, placing his hands on the island countertop. “Let’s start over? If that’s okay? I didn’t want to mention it when I came in because I wanted us to have a fresh start.”
You push down the questioning thought of who this woman he mistook you for was, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “That’s totally okay.. clean slate?”
“Clean slate.” He finalizes.
“Straightforward,” You add, “I like it.”
He gives you a warm smile, the same edge in the way he looks at you dances in his eyes before he breaks it off, sliding the bottle of beer out of your own hand. “Actually, I think I will have a beer. You don’t seem like a beer drinker, anyway.” He turns quickly, smirking at you before striding out of the room. “Thanks, Y/n!”
Protestations die on your lips as he disappears from the room, your beer along with him. How rude. You can’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn back to the cupboard, skipping the beer and pouring yourself a second glass of wine. You weren’t a beer drinker, after all.
Although you weren’t one for parties, you couldn’t help but admit the fact that you were having a good time. No, a great time. All of you are seated in Jimins living room; a plate of chips sits on the coffee table, which was the hot spot of the night (considering there’s hardly any remaining). Others in the group still have a glass of alcohol in their hands, the tipsiness evident by the slurring of their words. You had stopped yourself after half of your second glass, playing it safe since you still have to walk home after the party. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway-- your family history being the root of this decision.
It isn’t the games that made the night this enjoyable, or the food, or the movie that is currently playing over Jimin's television (which, by the way, is Moulin Rouge, because half of the room enjoys musicals, and the other half enjoys regular movies. So, you decided to settle on a movie musical). None of that matters, except the fact that you’ve never felt this carefree in a long time.
For one night, you can put aside your cafe job, auditions, and never-ending to-do lists and just have fun. Real fun. Even in the audition rooms, it has never been fun for you. It’s been nerve-wracking to a fault and always ends with a “thank you for taking the time, but we’ve decided not to accept you this time around,” or a callback, which ultimately concludes with the same grueling fate.
But this is different.
This is a group of people who genuinely want to spend time with you and get to know you… with no “not this time’s” or open-ended questions.
Especially with Taehyung. You’re surprised at how quickly the two of you seemed to hit it off, despite the awkward introduction. Now, it feels like he’s known you for years… in the best way. You’re comfortable talking to him, chatting together during the movie about the plot points or songs you find specifically endearing. You had initially planned to sit next to Jimin… but ended up next to Taehyung on the couch.
It just happened.
He enjoys musicals as well, you learn. Maybe not as much as you do, but at least he doesn’t despise them. He’s one of Jimin’s friends from their shared art class. He loves the color brown. His favorite food is watermelon. He does illustrations for Jimins journalism projects (which, in your opinion, are exceptional from the photos he showed you during the movie while the others were engulfed in the film). He wishes to pursue traveling journalism, where he draws what he sees rather than taking pictures. His whole aura is warm… like a heated blanket that envelopes you whole when you feel him shift beside you on the sofa. A small reminder that he’s still there.
Okay, you’re liking his presence way too much.
He finds romance movies corny but a guilty pleasure nonetheless. This, the reason why he agreed to watch Moulin Rouge despite the cheesiness in the beginning. In the end, it was anything but cheesy.
"Well, that was stupid." Jungkook scoffs, slamming the remote onto the neighboring loveseats' armrest. The once loud room filled with music is now quiet from the after-effects of the movie.
“I told you it was sad!” Jimin exclaims. The two of you had seen this movie before in theatres… and this was nothing compared to how the ending hit the first time. “Y/N was nearly choking. She was crying so hard when we saw it.”
An immediate blush rises onto your cheeks as you shake your head in defiance, trying to hide the tears that had been stinging your eyes for the last thirty minutes. “Who wouldn’t cry at that??”
“Taehyung probably didn’t. He never cries.” Hoseok deadpans. Ha. You can’t help but remember the tear that ran down his face in the cafe… He never cries?
With a quick look over your shoulder, you find that Taehyung is no longer seated on the couch. When did he get up? You attempt to shrug off your curiosity, pivoting back towards the chip table where only sad little crumbs remain. You were worrying way too much over a man you quite literally just met tonight… even if it felt like you’ve known him for much longer.
Taehyung eventually reappeared, stating that he had to use the bathroom— you ignored the fact that it took him a solid 30 minutes to get back to the party. It wasn’t your place to ask any questions, especially since he lifted a smile onto his face the second he reentered the room. See, y/n… nothing to worry about.
It wasn’t long before you insisted you head home, knowing that you’d curse yourself in the morning if you stayed out past the sunrise. If you did, you’d sleep through tomorrow, and that would be awful. You’ve done this a few times… and every time, you felt like you had wasted an entire year of your life.
You move to grab your purse and jacket, which are hanging comfortably on the hook beside the front door. With a small smile, you bid everyone goodnight— smiling as they resume a card game around the table at one o’clock in the morning. It’s nice to know that the group of you hit it off… now; you can look forward to plenty of get-togethers in the future.
Your mind is bustling with all kinds of ideas: picnics in central park, late-night broadway shows, hangouts at the caf-
“Y/n!” The soft calling of Taehyung's voice causes you to halt near the exit, turning on your heel to see him jogging towards you. He had haphazardly thrown his jacket over him since it’s still being tugged onto his body as he runs. His hair becomes even more chaotic in his haste… Why do you want to run your hands through it?
“Hey!” You squeak, interrupting your thoughts before they trudged down a guilty road. “What are you doing? Weren’t you going to play another round?”
He gives you a smirk, catching his breath as he holds out your house keys. “You forgot these! You were really moving fast… sick of us already?”
“Wh— oh my god, thank you!” With a quick swipe of your hand, you’re stuffing your keys into your pocket with a grateful smile. “Also, hardly.”
You admire the way his eyes light up at your confession. “Well.. since you don’t want to leave us so quickly.. how about I walk you home?” He seems almost hesitant asking, but you can’t help but applaud him for actually taking the initiative to inquire.
You shake your head, pulling the strap of your purse farther up your shoulder. “You don’t have t-“
“I want to!” He cuts you off quickly, catching you by surprise as he moves past you to open the door. He glances back, taking in your reluctant expression, “It’s not safe this time of night Y/n… You shouldn’t be alone.“
You know he didn't mean anything by that statement… But the idea of someone genuinely caring and not wanting you to be alone makes your heart swell. Jimin cares about your safety of course, but this feels… Different.
This is the reason why you allow him to walk you home.
The snow crunches beneath your feet, like a symphony that beckons you home. You’ve been feeling exhaustion seeping into your bones for the last ten minutes, but Taehyung's occasional brush of his arm as he walks beside you keeps you wide awake. He doesn’t think to apologize for accidentally touching you, but you blame it on the time of night. Delusion.
“How long have you lived in New York?” You question, wrapping your coat tighter around you to kick out the nipping air.
“About a year now,” He responds, shuffling his feet, “though it feels like way longer. You?”
“Three years.”
Taehyung turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Wow, way to one up me.” With a teasing smile he continues, “You must know this city like the back of your hand.”
The truth is… you don’t. You came here for the sole purpose of making it on Broadway... you never really took the time to focus on anything else. Part of you wishes you had learned more, craved more, wanted more with your life—then you wouldn’t be so miserable when the one thing you do want doesn’t work out. “Yeah… kind of.”
If he hears the somber tone of your voice, he ignores it, turning against the wind as he walks backwards down the sidewalk. “It’s overrated in my opinion.”
You raise your head at this, “Why is that?”
“Everyone here has dreams… and those dreams get crushed more often than not.” He shrugs, “No one cares if you want to succeed, only if you already have.”
You stare at him for a moment, awestruck by the weight of his words. “But,” he adds, turning back towards the wind, “the ones who never give up and continue to chase that dream can become successful. Despite all of the no’s they might face, they always hold on till they hear a yes. That sounds like true success to me.”
Turning your head, you stare at the side of his face— admiring the way his hair tosses back a bit against the harsh winter winds. His words hit you way deeper than he probably realized, sinking into your chest with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. You’ve been contemplating recently on whether or not to give up on your dream… that maybe it just wasn’t going to work out for you. You have been trying for so long, and have repeatedly been let down. There was no way Taehyung could have known, which is why his words hit you as hard as they did. Despite the hardships, you’ve been here for three years and you’ve never given up or stopped trying to chase your dream.
That was an achievement, right?
“To be honest… I've heard a lot of no’s in my three years of being here.” You speak softly, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “Sometimes it feels like there will never be a yes… but here I am. At least I'm still working— at a coffee shop, not on the stage.”
“It’s admirable that you keep going.” Taehyung glances at you over his shoulder. “It makes you different from a lot of people who have left the city when they faced failure. It’s something to be proud of. Plus, coffee shop or big stage, you’re in New York City and pursuing your gift. It’s special.”
When your eyes meet, you smile at him, feeling a sense of victory the longer you hold his gaze.
“Don’t give up, Y/n. No matter what.” He speaks genuinely, leaning towards you to nudge you gently on your shoulder. You can’t help but laugh at his playfulness, giving him a nudge in return before your eyes downcast to your winter boots. The snow on the ground is fresh, powdery and sticking to the toes of your shoes. “Plus,” He adds, sucking in the chilly air, “you've got what others don’t have…”
This time when you meet his eye he has a serious expression, making sure he has your full attention as you round the corner towards your apartment building. His gaze is genuine, captivating… and a part of you hopes that the close proximity of your apartment wouldn’t cut this moment short. Finally, he speaks.
“You have passion.”
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Taehyung's words weigh on you for the rest of your night. It started off as something simple, looking up audition songs for an upcoming off-broadway show your agent was telling you about. Then, you went to learning it. After that, putting on makeup. And finally, completely forgetting about your sleep schedule and filming an entire audition tape in your room at 2 in the morning (and you were belting… your poor neighbors). It wasn’t until four that you finally turned in for the night, not bothering to take off your makeup or get changed-- simply falling onto your pillow and blacking out the moment you hit it. You were definitely sleeping the next day away… but at that moment, you didn’t mind. Having a day off from your busy schedule wouldn’t be so bad.
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“I sent in an audition tape two nights ago.” You speak confidently, wiping down the back counter that’s littered with coffee grounds. They stick to the rag like glue, tiny dots scattered along its white surface. If it weren’t for your apron,
and your expertly rolled up white turtleneck sweater, you would look alot like this rag right now.
“Did you?” Jimin questions from the bar, sleeving the cup before placing it on the handoff counter.
“Christopher! Medium cappuccino!” He calls, multitasking while he cranes his neck to still hear you.
“I did. I feel really good about this one..” You add, meeting him beside the bar as he lifts the pitcher up and down to create the latte-art of a flower in the center of the mug. You have tried sooooo many times to make latte art… and every time it ended up looking like a glob. A big, distorted snowball. Jimin was the master of latte art, always finishing it off beautifully with a whip of his wrist. The foam atop telling a story. “It was so late-- I was totally out of it… and yet I actually enjoyed myself while filming it. I just imagined being there.. In center stage.”
“I’m happy for you, Y/n!” He smiles, turning to place the hot mug next to the cappuccino.
“Caleb! Medium caramel latte!”
He was only half listening to you. The cafe was bustling, so it truly wasn’t Jimin's fault that he was sidetracked— but nothing could hold back the small smile that played at the edge of your lips. You had actually enjoyed singing for the first time in a while.. all because of Taehyung's Academy Award winning pep talk. Who knew that all you needed was for someone to tell you like it is. With a minuscule smile, you turn back towards the counter and lift the latte you’d whipped up this morning to your lips. Your distorted snowball is fully on display at the top.
Despite the busyness, the front register is deserted, giving you time to think for a moment about the pep talk... or rather, the person who gave you it.
“I think Taehyung likes you.” Jimin deadpans.
Uhhh… You nearly spit out your snowball at that— clearing your throat as you set it down slowly onto the wooden countertop. He speaks as if this is a natural conversation starter… it’s not.
“I’m sorry?” You croak.
“Taehyung.” He repeats, turning his head in your direction with a knowing smirk. “I think he likes you.”
You give him a scoff of disbelief, watching as yet another group of regulars enter through the door. “That’s not true, he just doesn’t know me… so he made an effort to talk to me.” If you weren’t studying the group, you would've seen Jimin giving you a scrutinized look.
So, now you have his attention.
“Y/n. It’s so obvious… He spent the entire night talking to you, he left moments after you did to give you your keys and he never came back. If that isn’t someone who’s interested, I don’t know what is.” Jimin is an expert at multitasking, finishing off two drinks at the same time and calling them out.
“Well, Jimin, when people don’t know each other, they get to know each other. It’s this thing called talking and becoming friends.” The sentence hangs in the air as the doorbell chimes, signaling that yet another customer has entered the cafe and into the swarm of regulars, but the two of you disregard the sound and continue on through your bickering.
“I’m just saying, Taehyung doesn’t usually talk to girls.” Jimin adds, wiping his hands off on the white rag seated beneath his espresso machine. “Even if they wanted his attention, he didn’t give it to them. I mean— he’s nice to girls, don’t get me wrong.. but he’s never talked to them like he did with you on game night. I don’t think he’s dated anyone since he got here.”
“He’s career driven.” You say quickly.
If you thought his smirk couldn’t get any wider, you were wrong. “Yeah, girls don’t know that about him— meaning he told you, and not other girls.” Jimin deadpans.
You stare blankly at him. There’s no way. No way that a guy as attractive as Taehyung would even think about looking at you like that. There’s just no way. You’ve never had a boyfriend... or even a guy friend, until Jimin. Eventually, you’d accepted the fact that maybe you just weren’t that interesting. Maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Maybe you couldn’t flirt…. okay, you definitely couldn’t flirt— but that’s besides the point.
“He’s not interested in me.” You conclude.
“He is.” Jimin counters.
“He’s not.”
“He so is.”
“He’s so not.”
“Y/n. I swear to you. He’s interested and you need to shoot your shot.” He whisper-screams, throwing the rag in his hand onto the bar.
“Taehyung is not-“
A clearing of someone’s throat from beyond the register cuts your argument short, nearly making you lose your balance when you see who the source was.
You’re fairly certain you’ve turned pale.
Taehyung stands in front of you, eyeing between the two of you with an awkward expression. God, how long has he been standing there? “I figured I should step in before the two of you start fist fighting.”
“Hey!” The shrill of your voice causes you to wince.
“Hey.” He says with a smile, folding his arms in front of him and raising his eyes to the menu above your head. You can’t help the glare you send towards Jimin, who's notably holding back his laughter as he moves to the blender, the station farthest from the register. Ridiculous.
“What can we get for you?” You ask routinely, trying not to make it obvious that you were just talking about him… and praying that he wasn’t there to hear what the two of you were talking about.
“Hmm…” He looks especially good today, wearing a brown, long coat and a brown plaid scarf around his neck. He wasn’t kidding when he said his favorite color was brown, that’s for sure. It suits him. His hair is wavy, flowing to a point just under his eyebrows with a split off center, giving you the tiniest glimpse of his forehead. “How about an americano with hazelnut, and some cream?”
“We can do that for ya!” You have to force yourself to stop looking at him, pressing the buttons to ring up his order before you forget. You nearly overlook ringing up the hazelnut syrup. Why were you so dazed? He’s already placed his credit card into the chip reader, but your foggy brain asks anyway. “Anything else?”
“Yes, actually.” He speaks as you move towards the bar beside the register. Grabbing an empty pitcher, you pour the milk inside and reach for the steamer. He drops a dollar into the tip jar, not giving you enough time to thank him for the unnecessary effort before he speaks again. “Are you free later?”
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NEXT CHAPTER
enjoying this story? please be sure to like and reblog!! It would really help me out, and i would love to hear your thoughts and feelings regarding this work 🥺🤍 thank you for taking the time to read!!
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Text
Gabriel x Reader • I don't deserve you •
Season 13 spoilers!
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The glass slipped out of your hand and crashed on the ground, shattering in a hundred pieces.
"What?", you breathed into your cellphone, not believing what Sam just told you.
"Gabriel isn't dead.", he said again. "Are you okay? I heard something breaking."
You didn't answer him, hang up and rushed out of your apartment.
"(Y/n)?", Sam asked into his cellphone and then heard the peep of you hanging up on him.
Sighing he leaned back in his chair.
"What did she say?", Castiel asked, standing in the middle of the room like a misplaced statue.
"Nothing. But I guess she's on her way."
Not even 10 minutes later the door of the bunker was thrown open and quick steps hurried down the stairs.
Heavy breathing you stopped in front of Sam: "Where is he?"
"In your old room.", he answered and went ahead. "But don't get scared. He is in a really bad state."
You had prepared for the worst but the moment Sam opened the door your heart dropped.
The walls were covered in hinochec words and Gabriel was sitting in the corner of the room, hugging his knees and rocking slightly back and forth.
"Gabriel...", you whispered shocked, walked over to him and kneeled down.
Slowly he looked up at you.
He had two big cuts on his forehead, blood all over his mouth and face, his nose looked like it was broken and his brow was burst.
His usual golden whiskey-colored eyes were dark and full of fear, pain, and hatred.
But as soon as he looked you in the eyes you could see a small gleam of hope, it was a short flash but you had seen it.
Trembling he leaned forward and laid his head against your shoulder.
Carefully you placed your arms around him and hugged him tightly.
"What happened?", you asked but Gabriel didn't answer, he just hugged you back, burying his face in your shoulder, so Castiel answered: "He got captured and tortured by Asmodeus, he took Gabriel's grace to make himself stronger."
"Oh my god...", you whispered, caressing Gabriels back. "So that's why you don't heal yourself."
"It's not only that. He could if he wanted to, we still got some of his grace but he doesn't want to take it.", Sam explained while showing you a small vial with the light blue grace inside. "Maybe you can convince him to take it."
He gave it to you and Gabriel flinched back, trying to get away but you grabbed his face with your hands and made him look at you: "Why not?"
He didn't talk to you again but his eyes spoke volumes. Looking at you as in pain he begged you not to make him do it. Even so, he would have if it was for you but he still begged you.
With a heavy heart, you put the grace in your pocket and turned back to Sam and Castiel.
"He doesn't want to take it and I'm not going to force him. Bring me some towels and warm water, I'll try to clean him up."
Some minutes later you were sitting on the bed with Gabriel and cleaned his face carefully from all the blood.
He flinched every time the wet towel touched one of his wounds but didn't make you stop. His hand was laying on your leg the entire time and his gaze was fixed on your face, watching every movement you did.
"What?", you asked as you noticed that he was watching you and chuckled. "Do I have something on my face?"
A smile crept on Gabriel's lips: "No...", he said with a raspy voice. "I'm just so glad to see you again."
"Me too...", you admitted and looked away, feeling the anger again about the fact that he let you believe he was dead the last year."I thought you were dead."
His eyes got sadder again: "I'm so sorry about that... I ran away from all this, I'm a coward. "
You couldn't handle that he was talking bad about himself even if he was right, so you pulled him into a tight hug: "You are. But I forgive you."
"You shouldn't...", he admitted with so much guilt in his voice that it nearly hurt you.
"Shut up. I'm just happy that you're still alive right now."
You placed a sweet kiss on his forehead.
Gabriel suddenly had the little vial with his grace in his hand and stirred it around.
He opened the vial and his eyes followed his blue grace as it flew out and into his mouth.
His eyes light up in a light blue and all his wounds were gone.
Before you could ask why he had done this he grabbed your face with his hands and pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you softly.
Shocked and furiously blushing it took you a second to kiss back.
"I really don't deserve you.", he whispered and pressed his forehead against yours, starring with his whiskey-colored eyes into yours.
"No, you don't.", you chuckled and Gabriel pinched your nose in response.
Suddenly Sam stormed in the room with his cellphone on his ear, a scared look on his face.
Slowly he lowered his hand with the phone and looked at Gabriel:
"He found you."
Soooo I hope you like this one shot, maybe I'll write a part two because I can already hear you complaining about the cliff hanger like ending Even though you all know what is going to happen 😂
Let me know if you like it and want a part two❤
Much love to you💖
My Wattpad: @/lilakudo
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Unexpected Places (Pt. 01 of 11)
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Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader
Word count: 2.8 K
Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.
Next part (02)->
{Vikings Masterlist}
×
Sailing Into The Unknown
Walking fast, you keep up with the two Norsemen coming right behind you. Unlike the rest of your maids, who were caught hiding or trying to leave the castle, you were found in your chambers. You knew they'd find you, one way or another, and you'll have much more to gain if you keep fear and despair away from your mind.
You knew this day would come. Your father, the King, was sure of it, and so were you. The political implications of King Ecbert and King Aelle in the last years brought you to this moment. An attack was imminent, and when you were told the Vikings were once again clashing on your cost like the waves, you knew this was inevitable. The only thing you can hope now is that they'll either let you live or give you a quick death. You're a threat, that's obvious. Aethelwulf may be the heir, but you're forth in line after his two sons. And that puts you in a dangerous position.
A yelp from one of your maids gets your attention, and you give her a look. You get why they're scared. These men look like monsters to them, speaking a strange language, dressed in dark, hard material, covered in blood. And everything they were told about the Norsemen, is that they're all savages. Worse than animals, soulless. Fortunately for you, one of the few things you actually wanted to do that your father allowed was to learn the Vikings language. Ecbert taught you himself, and you feel relieved to know what they're saying.
When you reach the main hall, you're pushed to the center, near a table. The maids all stick together, trying to pull you with them as they fall to the ground, using their skirts to dry off the tears. But you stand up, looking around. The place is flooded by them, the so-called monsters. Some are chatting, laughing even. Some of them have their eyes on you and on the other ladies. There's no way to know what will happen next, but you know who's in charge here.
The legend, the man they believe to be a descendant from the Pagan god, Odin. Ragnar Lothbrok. If you want to stand a chance to get out of here alive, that's the man you need to talk to. And, as if being called, he comes from the hall, alongside two other men. He looks, at the same time, exactly how your father described, but also very different. A paradox. His eyes scan the room, and, as you make your way over him, they lay on you.
One of the men who were with him come forward, standing on your way. Looking up, you sustain his stare. “I wish to speak with Ragnar.” You say, trying not to smile at the confused expression on the man's face. Nobody here expects you to speak their language.
“Princess (Y/N).” Ragnar sings songs, and the man steps aside. He has an axe in his hand, playing with it as he comes closer to you. “I was just having a small chat with your dear father.”
“Did you kill him?” The answer is obvious, but still, you need to know. The funny expression on his face changes and he pinches his eyebrows together “My father always said that, if he had to die at all, he'd like to be killed by you.”
“Oh.” He exclaims, glancing at someone behind you. “His wish was granted.”
Nodding to yourself, you look down. You have been preparing yourself for this moment ever since the news of Ragnar's return arrived, but still, your heart sinks a little. “Alright then.” It sounds stupid to ask him to simply let you go. This won't happen. Still, you don't want to face death scared, like your maids, crying and yelling. So, standing before Ragnar, you push your hair away from your shoulders, exposing your neck. “Do it already.” With both hands on your hips, you take a deep breath.
But Ragnar doesn't move, his lips break into a smile. Slowly, he leans closer, his mouth on your ear. “What are you doing?”
“I know you'll kill me. But I don't want to go like them.” Tilting your head at your maids, you shrug your shoulders. “I don't want to be taken as a slave either. So I guess that's it, king Ragnar.” Unlike him, you keep your voice as loud as before. You don't mind being heard.
“Do you–”
Ragnar is cut off by someone's shouts. Soon enough, a man comes, being held by two of the Norsemen. When they move a little, you recognize Edward, the man you were supposed to marry in a short amount of time. He's hurt, a black eye and a wounded lip. The men throw him on the floor, and he stands on his knees. Perhaps you should pity him... But no. It may not be kind of you, but you can't pretend you feel something you don't.
“Princess (Y/N), my lady.” He mumbles, trying to get to his feet and failing. “Stay away from them.”
Ignoring him, you turn to face Ragnar again. “As I was saying, there's no other option in this situation, so you might as well get done with it.” Giving the axe a look, you raise your eyes again. “I'm ready.”
“Don't be stupid, (Y/N)! Get away from him!” Edward shouts, and you run a hand through your hair, frustrated. Even now, he still tries to tell you what to do. You're tired of being ordered around. At least in death, you want to make it on your way.
“Shut up, Edward!” You burst out, moving to stand a few feet away from him, talking in his language since, of course, he wouldn't even dream of learning the pagans tongue. “It's over, don't you see it? We're both dying today, and honestly...” Now, you can say it. You can finally say it, and you can't help but smile. You'll be dead in a minute, but you never felt so... Free. “I'm happy my fate is to die by the Vikings... That's far better than marrying you.”
When you're done talking, Edward jerks forward, too fast, managing to grab your arm with one hand and hitting your face with the back of the other. You taste blood on your mouth, falling to the ground, but easily pushing yourself back up as the Norsemen pull him back, away from you. “You little whore!” He tries to set free, but it's useless. A laugh escapes your lips. “I'm so glad you'll die today. I'm so glad you'll join your devil of a father.”
With a hand on your jaw, you stare at him, shaking your head lightly. “You call then savages, but you were the only one in this room to hit me.” Turning away from him, you return to where Ragnar stands, watching the whole commotion. “So, king Ragnar?”
You can tell he's thinking. About what, you have no idea. From what you've heard, they don't need much thought before killing someone. “I could kill you right here, princess, but this speech you just gave got me interested.” Pacing around you, he swings his axe, resting it on his shoulder. “My wife, a former princess herself, might actually like you.”
“Aslaug?” A man says, and Ragnar looks at him. Following his gaze, you see a man with blond, dirty hair, pulled back in some kind of braid. “She hates Christians. I don't see how she'll like this one.”
“Well, I've never seen a Christian act like this. Have you, Bjorn?”
“No.” The man admits, eyes finally meeting yours, just before you look away from him.
“Well, my wife has been pissing me off lately, so anything that might distract her for a bit sounds like a good idea to me.” He speaks slow, and some people laugh. “So, Princess (Y/N). I will let you chose your fate.” He's back at your face, looking down at you. “Would you rather come with me to Kattegat, or would you rather die here, with your crying maids?”
Giving the women a look, you weigh the odds. Death is final, the very end. Life is full of possibilities... But are you willing to risk it? “Would you keep me safe? I mean...” Gesturing at the other men, you sigh. “I'm sure you understand what I mean.”
“Nobody touches the princess,” Ragnar yells, his voice echoing through the walls. “Is that enough?” He asks you in a much lower voice.
“I guess it is.”
That said, he walks away. Following him with your eyes, you see as he stops by Bjorn. Bjorn Ironside, his oldest son. His name is also well known here. Ragnar tells him something before disappearing, and his son gives you a look. It doesn't take long for you to understand Ragnar told Bjorn to keep an eye on you, since, as you walk down the beach to the boats, Bjorn silently walks beside you, like a bodyguard. He helps you climb up on to the boat, a strong hand on your waist, pushing you up.
When you finally start sailing, you get an idea of their army. Too many boats, filled with far too many warriors. You can't help but make your way to the back of the boat, watching as your home grows distant. But calling it home is a compliment. This was just somewhere you lived, surrounded by people who always expected something of you. Where you were forced to act a certain way, just because you were unlucky enough to be born a princess.
What's coming now, is completely unexpected, unforeseen. If anyone ever told you you'd be sailing away from Wessex, in a Viking boat, you wouldn't believe them. But the feeling that really gets to you, leaving you utterly perplexed is that you feel... Good. Free, even. You can't even count how many times you desired you could just disappear, leave everything behind and go somewhere entirely new. Maybe you're crazy, your mind completely lost already, but you somehow find joy in it. In sailing away, into the unknown, with the very people you were taught to hate and fear.
But this is far better than what your future was holding back there. An unhappy marriage with a disgusting man. This is far better.
Days after you left Wessex, a violent storm starts falling at daybreak. The rain comes lightly at first, but by the moment you stand up, it starts pouring. One of Ragnar's friends, named Floki, stays on the edge of the boat, holding on tight with one arm, the other stretched out. He's laughing, saying things you don't quite understand the meaning of. It's about Thor, and Odin, and othter of their gods. He seems unaffected by the crashing waves. Stumbling, you leave the protection of this dark fabric they hanged above the ship, getting on your knees next to Floki. You don't know what's soaking you, the rain, or the waves, high enough to hit the boat.
“Hear this, Princess?” Floki yells, trying to make himself heard above the deafening sounds. “This is–” A huge wave hits both of you, and Floki almost falls back. But he regains his balance, laughing even louder.
“Will the boat sink?” You ask him, yelling at the top of your lungs. “I can't swim! If we sink, I'll drown.”
“So will I,” Floki answers, glancing at you before turning his attention back at the ocean. This makes you burst into laughter too because you never thought someone who can't swim would face the waves like this.
“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, and you turn around, pushing wet hair away from your face. Bjorn comes your way, grabbing both your arms and helping you stand up. “What are you doing here?”
“She's mesmerized by the powerful waves!” Another wave, hitting both you and Bjorn as well. You're knocked down, your back against Bjorn's chest. But despite the sting you fell on your leg, Floki's laughter makes you giggle. These people are crazy. Nobody on Wessex would be this happy, this carefree in such a storm.
“Come.” Bjorn pulls you with him, back to the safety of the handmade roof. He helps you settle down, and as he does, you lock eyes with him. You've never seen blue eyes like this. “Stay out of the rain.”
“Floki is in the rain. Why can't I?” You snap back, not really enjoying the bossy tone.
“Let the girl have her fun, Bjorn.” You recognize Ragnar's voice, and you find him rowing, trying to keep the boat moving despite the violent waves. There's an empty seat beside him, so, pushing yourself up, you make your way there.
“Mind if I help?”
“If you think you can.” He breathes out, and you nod, grabbing the oar. “Keep it steady... Push, then pull.” He tells you, and you mimic his movements. The thing is heavy, and it takes only a few seconds for your arms to start hurting. But you keep up, ignoring the looks you're getting. No woman would be allowed to do such thing in Wessex. So you're enjoying it, even though you're strength is nothing compared to the rest of them.
When the heavy clouds are blown away, and the sky is once again blue and serene, you bend over the edge of the boat a little, just to better see where the ocean meets the sky, on the horizon. The chaos was replaced by a low chattering, laughter, and giggles. You're mostly on our own, not really speaking to anyone but Ragnar. He's a curious man, and he's curious about you. You're not sure why though.
“Here.” A voice makes you turn around, sitting down. Bjorn offers you a cup of water, which you take and drink after muttering a ‘thank you’. When you give him the empty cup, you wait for him to walk away so you can resume your horizon watching, but instead, he settles down beside you, letting out a heavy breath. “We'll reach Kattegat in a few days.”
“Finally.” You burst out, playing with the tips of your hair. “Sick and tired of this boat already.” Chuckling, you glance at him. He's already staring. “So... Bjorn Ironside. What are you doing talking to a Christian? People here don't really seem to be fond of me.”
“The truth is they're trying to figure you out.” Bjorn lowers his voice, and your eyes scan through the men. “Ever since you stood up with your neck exposed to my father's axe.”
It doesn't seem much of a big deal to you. “I just didn't want to die like those other girls. Whining and crying.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. “I mean, I really thought there would be no other way, so I'd face death with some dignity.”
“Don't tell anyone I said this but...” He leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. “You kinda sounded like a Viking right now.” Then, he stands up and leaves, back to his chores.
You're confused, to say the least, but you guess that was a compliment coming from a Viking himself. Taking a deep breath, you move to where you were, staring at the calming waves.
And Bjorn was right. Eight days after, you're arriving at Kattegat. The many boats stop at the decks, and yours is one of the first. There's a sea of people here, waiting for their loved ones. As you step out of the boat, you don't really know where to go. Everyone is hugging, kissing, telling about the successful raid. You just start walking then, following the flow until you feel someone grabbing your arm. “This way,” Bjorn says, tilting his head at where his father is going. “He wants to introduce you to Aslaug.”
The Queen who hates Christians. Great.
The main hall of Ragnar's house is full. First, he talks to the people, telling them everything they took, everything they found. There's a huge fire in the center, flames reaching high. You're at the corner, half-hidden behind Bjorn's shoulder, eyes flying through the place. You quickly recognize the Queen, seated on a chair beside Ragnar. She's very pretty, dark hair cut off to her shoulders. But she looks... Bored. Very uninterested in this.
By her side, close to the floor, you find a pair of eyes set on you. It takes you by surprise since you weren't expecting anyone to find you among all the people. But he did. Ragnar told you a little about him. His youngest son, Ivar, the Boneless. The cripple. It's not hard to recognize him, but your eyes don't search for his deformity. They're locked on his face, trying to read it, trying to understand why he won't look away.
Suddenly, everybody standing in front of you moves, creating a passage that leads to the very center of the hall. Glancing at Bjorn, you see when he gestures for you to go. And so you do, stopping only when you're standing before Aslaug. She doesn't seem very happy about it.
“And who this might be?” She asks, taking a sip from her cup.
“This is King Ecbert's daughter, princess (Y/N).” Ragnar answers. “She has some spirit, so I thought she'd make a good friend for you since you too were a princess once.”
“A Viking princess.” She snaps, looking you up and down.
You should probably say something, but what? The woman doesn't like you, and why would she? The big question now is what will happen to you next.
“(Y/N) isn't like the other women,” Bjorn speaks up, and you give him a look. He's pacing around, playing with a knife. “While her maids were sobbing and begging for their lives, she stood before Ragnar, accepting her fate. I've never seen one of their women do anything like that.” You don't get why he's doing this. Probably Ragnar's orders, or something like that. “She even helped with the oars when a storm reached us, after staying on the edge with that crazy ass Floki over there.” He gestures at the man, who loudly giggles.
“And what does this all mean?” Aslaug breathes out, clearly annoyed.
“Why don't you give her a chance, wife?” Ragnar sits back on his chair, taking Aslaug's hand. “Talk to her, see if there's anything in common and if you don't like her, well... I can send her to live with Lagertha.”
“Who's Lagertha?” You mutter, to nobody in particular.
But the name makes Aslaug sigh, and she stands up, putting the cup down. “Fine then. Come with me.”
With no other choice, you follow her inside. But on your way, you walk by Ivar, who's holding a clutch. You try hard no to, but your eyes find him nevertheless. He quickly looks away, and you keep walking, deciding not to give it much thought. He probably despises you like most of the people here.
Aslaug has some slaves prepare you a warm bath. And, much to your dislike, she stays in the room as you take off your clothes and step inside the tub. But it doesn't take long for you to relax as one of the girls starts washing and brushing your hair.
“Did you sleep with my husband?” The question comes with an angry voice, and you're not sure what startles you more. The anger or the question itself.
“Of course not.” She gets on your sight, pacing around.
“Do you want to sleep with my husband?”
Then, it clicks. She thinks Ragnar brought you here because he desires you. And that's a very dangerous thought for a Queen to have. “No, I don't.” Resting both your arms on the edges of the tub, you look up at her. “And even if he wants to sleep with me, I won't accept it. That's not the reason why I'm here.”
“And why are you here, so far from home, little princess?” She doesn't sound like she actually wants to know, but you get the feeling that this time you can actually say the truth. Here, there's no reason to keep it hidden, locked in. You can say how you feel about everything, even the things that could've got you imprisoned or even dead in Wessex.
“I'm willing to tell you if you're willing to listen, Queen Aslaug.”
At first, there's silence. But then, Aslaug drags a chair, placing it near the tub before sitting down. “Well, since I have nothing better to do at the moment, let's hear it.”
×
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babylooneytoonz · 3 years
Text
The Vessel [Pt. 3]
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader
Summary: While you are trying to figure out why the Witcher is so abhorrent towards you, he finally gives you a hint as to why he doesn't like you. Also, you realize something— Yennefer and her spells can never go wrong.
Warnings: Geralt being a dick is what.
[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]
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It had been weeks since you slept with Geralt of Rivia, but you hadn't been feeling any different. If it were up to you to say, you would say that Yennefer's plan didn't work— although you couldn't muster the courage to ask her directly if it did.
What made you so sure that the plan hadn't worked was the fact that Geralt and Yennefer had been fighting about something since a few nights and you could feel the strain in their relationship starting to show up. This hunch that you had only strengthened when one day, you unknowingly stumbled upon an argument between the Witcher and the Mage.
It was almost a week after that night on the Great Mount. Geralt had been indifferent towards you since then— not even bothering to spare a glance in your direction when the four of you were in the same proximity.
You were now back at Redania— your home, but so were Yennefer , Geralt and Jaskier— staying at your place like unwanted guests who were exceeding their stay.
Jaskier held two heavy logs in either of his arms, while your own hands were stuffed with the eggs from your coop, that you were intending to cook up for dinner tonight, when you heard shouting from one of the rooms upstairs.
"It was you that said that the plan would work. It didn't work, clearly."
You could recognize Geralt's voice from afar; broody, low and devoid of any emotion.
"Aren't you going to go check in on them?" You turned towards Jaskier and frowned, your eyes shooting upwards, fixing on the topmost stair before you withdrew it and fixed it on him again.
"Me? Stuck between a broody Witcher and a scary Witch? God save my poor soul then." Jaskier commented back as he placed the logs by the fireplace and began to light it.
"Jaskier—" You couldn't help but smile at him, as you placed the eggs on the table and blinked, turning towards him, "Yennefer isn't a witch, she is a mage. Besides—"
Before you could complete your sentence, Yennefer's shaky voice reached the both of you, and you couldn't help but wonder what was actually going on between the two of them.
"I don't understand what's gotten into you, Geralt. These things take time. Why won't you let the spell take it's due course?"
"Yen, your spell failed. It's high time you realize that."
You shook your head to yourself as you busied yourself with trying to prepare the stew for dinner, but your ears were fixed on them.
"You don't question my spells, Witcher. I know what I'm doing. Besides— now to come to think of it, did you even fuck her right?"
Jaskier couldn't help but snort, but when he looked at how red you suddenly were, he immediately masked his expressions as he propped himself next to you.
"Did he, [Y/N]?"
"Jaskier, I'm not having this conversation with you," You shook your head at him, exasperated that he was still bugging you with this question, "Now can you please help me out? I need help with the stew, Jas'." Jaskier stood up, whistling to himself as he fixed himself next to the pot, stirring it while you began working on getting the bread ready when the door above slammed shut and heavy footsteps began descending down the stairs. Both you and Jaskier turned to see a very annoyed Yennefer walk towards the front door, without her Witcher in tow, just like he already was.
"I've got some business to attend to in Novigrad, Jaskier." She pointedly ignored you, and you couldn't help but bite back the words threatening to spill out of your mouth. Living under your roof, she was behaving like you were an outsider. Secretly, you were thrilled that she was leaving , even though it was for a short while.
You watched, through the window as a portal suddenly emerged just outside of your barn, and she disappeared through it, leaving you and Jaskier gawking at each other, Jaskier finally speaking, "I say, trouble in paradise?"
"It's none of your concern, Jaskier. You really need to stop meddling with other people's businesses. Now would you be kind enough and go ask your friend to come down? Dinner's almost read—"
"Jaskier, come on now. We're leaving." Geralt cut you off as he finally appeared, all dressed in his tunic and breeches, his sword peeking out from behind him. You parted your lips, ready to ask him where he was off to but it was like he had already anticipated that this was going to come, so finally he looked at you, but with the same indifference with which he had treated you so far.
"It's time we move on. Keep the coin. Seems like Yennefer's plan failed after all—"
The sheer coldness in his voice stung you like a thorn but you didn't let him realize that. Slowly, you lifted the cloth, wiping your hands with it, trying to act just as indifferent towards him— even though you felt like you had been betrayed, which you mentally cursed yourself for.
This was going to happen one day or the other— and wasn't it better that they were finally going to be out of your life now? And not later when they would mercilessly pull your babe away from a mother's breast and call it their own?
"Where are we going, Geralt? We can atleast stay for dinner, a man needs to eat—"
"We will roast a deer on our way, Jaskier." Geralt's irritation was evident from his tone, so the bard turned towards you, choosing now to ignore the Witcher with a sulk on his face.
"Oh Jaskier," you whispered, softly, "Don't you worry. I'll quickly pack some food for you, for the way."
"Oh hush, woman, don't go so soft on me, I would want to switch the roles with that broody gentleman over there."
Your cheeks suddenly felt like they were on fire; and you were sure you had turned a tomato red. You instinctively looked away, quickly finding yourself a distraction at the table as you began packing some bread and ham in a cloth satchel for him to take along with him— fighting back the smile that craved to break out.
"Jaskier, you are free to stay here for as long as you want, the minute I get on Roach, I leave," grumbling, the White Wolf slammed the front door shut as he walked off, your eyes suddenly widening, as the smile was quickly replaced by a lingering hurt upon listening to his words. Why did he hate you so much? Was it because you couldn't give him— them— the child they so desperately wanted?
"Okay thank you for the dinner, and don't, like DO NOT mind him, he has always been a grumpy ham."
Jaskier took the satchel, flinging it over his shoulder, whilst at the same time grabbed his lute and immediately darted out, and by that time, the Witcher was already trotting towards the main path. You fixed yourself by the front door, watching the poor bard struggle to catch up with him and once the two of them were out of sight, you went back inside.
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If there was anything that turned a bright way for you after the three of them stepped out of your life for good was the fact that you had enough coin on you now to last for atleast a year. You bought three new goats so you could milk them and sell the milk in the village, along with the eggs.
But the void remained—
The night's were the most difficult, because there were nights when you woke up to a dream where a certain white haired, amber eyed man was laying in bed with you, his thick palm resting on your waist, your back pressed against him as he spooned you.
Maybe it was because you couldn't sleep that night too, that you did not miss the strangled groan that you heard from outside your window. You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes as you leaned over the window to look out but you couldn't see anything. Just then, someone began pounding on your front door, startling you.
It didn't take you long to run down the stairs, still dressed in your chemise, your arms wrapped around your arms as the knocking became frantic and urgent. When you opened the door, you felt like someone had kneed you in the gut—
"Jaskier?" The bard looked a mess, his clothes were bloody and dirty, his hair slick and sticking to his face.
"I didn't know who else to go to nearby. Geralt needs—" Jaskier began, and the two of you turned towards Roach. Geralt was although perched atop, he was now arching forward, his body almost limp, his head resting against the saddle.
"What happened, Jaskier?" You ran out towards Roach, who whinnied at you, perhaps having sensed that something was wrong with her owner. You placed your palm on Geralt's shoulder, but the minute your palm came in contact with him, he grunted and looked up, and you saw how weak and pale he looked, "I told J-Jaskier — I'm f-fine.. Jaskier.. Jaskier..fuck.. Novigrad.. I asked you to take us to ... Novigrad."
Geralt of Rivia was injured, the flesh on his side had almost been ripped apart by what looked like claws, and yet he was being a stubborn pig. You grabbed him by the fabric of his tunic, balling the fabric as you began literally dragging him off the horse, paying no heed to his annoying murmurs.
"Jaskier, can you help? I alone cannot get him off, you know?"
Helping Geralt walk into your home was a difficult task but somehow, you and Jaskier convinced Geralt to do it. You sat the very injured Geralt by the fire and knelt down in between the space of his legs, using gentle fingers as you rolled up the torn fabric of the tunic. He hissed when your fingers came in contact with his clawed flesh and that's when you saw how massive the claw marks were.
"Who did that to him, Jaskier?" You let go off the big man as you stood up, your hands now caked in Geralt's blood. You ran up to one of the wooden racks that stood by the fireplace with a dozen glass bottles on it. You grabbed the mortar and pestle, placing it on the table in front of you, as Jaskier lowered himself on a chair, now wiping the blood off his face with a washcloth.
"I swear you should have seen it, it was the tallest harpy I have ever seen— well technically, it's the first harpy I've ever seen," he mumbled, and you couldn't help but give him a weak smile as you began to look for the ingredients to make a paste for Geralt's wounds.
"What are you looking for?" Jaskier asked, intrigued, as he watched you fiddle with the glass containers.
"Turmeric, Jaskier. It will stop his bleeding, although had he been human, that injury would have killed him— instantly," you pointedly stared at Jaskier, and he gulped nervously when your words finally registered into the back of his mind. You quickly turned away, resuming your search for the other ingredients. You pulled out two containers; one with lotus petals and the other one containing chamomile, placing it on the table, next to the mortar and pestle.
"Jaskier, while I prepare the paste, can you get Geralt to lie down by the fire? And take off his—" You pointed towards his tunic that was already ripped apart, hanging loosely by his side. Jaskier immediately nodded, getting to work.
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You knelt down next to Geralt. His eyes were open, but his face was sweaty and his breathing was uneven; his lips tightly pressed together as he stared at the fire. Your fingers delicately moved over the gashes on his side, and he didn't flinch as much now.
"Can you sit up, Geralt? I need to bandage your waist."
That's when he turned towards you, regarding you briefly as he grunted, pushing himself up slightly and you quickly bandaged his wound with a cloth, securely tying it around his waist before he fell back against the makeshift bedding you had created for him by the fireplace.
You were finally done tending to the man's wounds so you stood up, moving to wash your hands by the sink, when Geralt's voice reached you, startling you.
"I told Jaskier not to bother you. Yennefer could have fixed this."
Your head sharply turned towards him, and you parted your lips, but it was as if your words were lodged to your throat, refusing to come out.
"You can't put all the blame on Jaskier. He could have left you to rot, stolen your mare and left, but he stuck around to ensure you were brought back to safety. You need to learn to swallow that thick ego of yours and give the bard some credit," you intentionally chose not to talk of Yennefer.
He grunted in response, shifting slightly so he could get comfortable, his body tilted at an angle towards the fire that you could see more of his back— full of old scars— this one will be adding to it soon.
"Are you a healer?"
His question pulled you off track.
You shook your head, wiping your hands with a clean cloth, reaching out for one of the blankets that you had stored for yourself as a winter supply, placing it over Geralt's legs— with half a mind that you will have to fight him for this act too— but much to your surprise, Geralt of Rivia accepted the blanket, pulling it over his chest.
"No, not a healer, just a woman with a passion to know things. You see, living alone you need to know certain things as you never know what life is going to throw your way."
"Hm," he fell quiet, and all the two of you could now listen to were the embers erupting from the fire.
The next few minutes, Geralt was quiet, so assuming that he had fallen asleep, just like the bard had; already snoring away to glory, you pulled your chair closer to the fireplace, lowering yourself against it as you began working on another blanket for Jaskier.
"You should have said no."
Startled to hear the low broody voice again, you looked up but this time found Geralt sitting on the makeshift bedding, the pads of his feet resting against the floor, his back turned towards the fire but his face turned towards you.
"Geralt, you should lie down—"
"You should have said no to Yennefer, but you agreed although you knew what she wanted to make you do."
"Says the man who makes a living slaying monsters. Would you say no to a good bounty if that meant being paid enough to last you a year?" You snapped at him, not meeting his gaze.
"You needed coin, there were thousand other ways to do it."
"Like what, Geralt? Don't you think I tried all these ways you are talking about?" The half done blanket now lay forgotten at your feet, and you were standing, towering over Geralt, your lips trembling with rage. How dare he?
"There are many brothels in Redania that I know of that would have gladly taken you in."
"You know what, Witcher?" You spat, "I'm NOT having this conversation with you. I don't like you anymore than you like me, so there's no point in even speaking. Once you are well enough, I would gladly have you out of my home."
You turned away from him, and then blinked, for you couldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, as a thick chunk of a tear rolled down your cheek. Swallowing bitterly, you began climbing up the stairs, rather loudly, when Geralt mumbled, "You won't see us when you wake up tomorrow, don't worry."
Ignoring him, you reached the topmost stair, but when Jaskier began speaking to Geralt in a low voice, you couldn't help but pause, inching your ear towards them so you could listen to what they were saying.
"Why do you insist on being like that with her, Geralt?"
Jaskier's words were followed by what sounded like a bitter laugh, and a cough.
"I knew you were awake. I wondered why you didn't jump in to defend her like you always do, Jaskier."
"That is not the point, Ger—"
"If you must know why I can't stop being the way I am around her is because every single time I see her, I'm reminded of the false hope that Yennefer gave me, Witchers are sterile, and that's how it is, I should have known than to fall into Yennefer's words."
He was hating for you something you hadn't even done. You gave him hope, or Yennefer did?
You would have stood there and continued listening to what more he had to say, but you couldn't help it— your face turning sour, when sudden nausea hit you. Your palm instinctively flew up to your lip; making you almost double over and your eyes lifted up, scanning the area for anything you could use to relieve yourself. Grabbing an empty basket that lay close by, you fell down on your knees, your knees scraping against the wood of your flooring and you began wretching out the contents of your stomach, sweat trickling down your forehead as dread filled you up. You were scared that Yennefer's spell had worked. Your palm flew to your flat belly and you pursed your lips together, blinking away the tears and wiping the corner of your lips.
Now that you had wished for the spell to fail, it had perhaps, worked. Maybe things weren't destined to go about the way you wanted them to— all you wanted was to watch Geralt of Rivia leave you alone for good and never come back [Wishful thinking]. But if, the spell had worked, it meant that you were probably carrying his Witcher baby, and that meant, you will have to see more of the white haired man with amber eyes, whether you liked it, or not.
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the shrooms cafe
part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba
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hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!
this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)
shrooms cafe masterlist
my masterlist
warnings: none
word count: 2k
"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.
"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft
music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.
-----
After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.
-----
“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”
She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"
"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.
She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.
----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.
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marvelmusing · 3 years
Text
Making Time
Mobius M Mobius x Reader
Part 2
My Masterlist
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“1985, huh?” You say, looking up from the briefing Mobius has just handed you.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll spot a delorian?” He jokes, making a Back to the Future reference. You smile at him, remembering when you’d first mentioned the movie. You hadn’t been at the TVA long, to your knowledge.
You’re sat in one of the cafes, explaining something about the timeline to Casey, and you make an offhand reference to the movie. To which, Casey looks even more confused. You glance at Mobius, who’s been sat next to you, watching your teaching with a smile. You offer them both a small smile, at yet another reminder that you’re from somewhere very different from the rest of them.
“Neither of you have seen it have you?” Mobius shakes his head.
“Not a lot of chances for watching movies when dealing with the timeline. Should we get the chance, I’d love to.” It’s a few days later when you give him the chance.
“Honey, I’m home.” You hear Mobius call out, which brings a smile to your face. Whilst you had your own apartment, you much preferred staying with Mobius, like you did when you first arrived at the TVA. You hear him set down a pile of papers in the kitchen, before making his way into the lounge where you’re sat waiting for him. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“What’s all this?”
“Back to the Future. I went through my file, and managed to find a version that I watched that was uninterrupted. Then I isolated it, and copied it onto one of those cassette reel things, so that it’ll play on your mini projector.” You pause, before adding, “I probably put too much effort into this but, I thought we could have what my time considers a movie night?”
“A movie night?” Your face falls slightly, feeling embarrassed by your suggestion.
“We don’t have to-“ you start. He shrugs off his jacket and settles down next to you.
“Did I not tell you I wanted to watch it, should I get the chance?”
“Well, yeah.” He gestures to the projector.
“Let’s get this show on a roll.” You grin at him, before quickly pressing play on the projector. Mobius leans an arm on the couch and pulls you to his side. “You finally have clearance to access to your file, and you use it to watch Back to the Future?”
“What else was I supposed to do with it?” You joke.
You and Mobius head to the cubicle where you left Loki this morning. You spot him wapping against the desk with a magazine.
“Training going well?” You ask him. He leans back in his chair, attempting to look casual.
“Yeah.”
“Is that my jet ski magazine?” Mobius asks him. “Put it down. Gear up. There's been an attack. Let's go.” He hands Loki the jacket he’s been carrying. You set the briefing down on the desk, and follow Mobius. Loki trails behind you. “Put it on.” Loki shrugs the jacket on, adjusting the collar before posing.
“Nice.” You tell him with a smile.
“Good. Yeah, smart.” Mobius says distractedly. You soon reach the Timedoors, where a small group of hunters have gathered to wait. B-15 opens up the briefing.
“C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant. But which kind of Loki, remains unknown.”
“They're the lesser kind, to be clear.” Loki specifies. B-15 sighs,
“Let me see the back of that jacket.” Loki does a small turn, showing the group the back of his jacket, where the bright orange letters reading VARIANT stand out. Everyone is the group shares a small smile. You’re glad you don’t have to wear one of those anymore.
“Very subtle. Well done.”
“I don't want anybody out there to forget what you are.”
“Oh, your only hope of capturing a murderer?”
“No. A cosmic mistake.”
“That's enough.” Mobius interrupts.
“Lovely.” You hear Loki murmur.
“Here's the deal.” Mobius begins. “When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant.” He skims through a few of the Loki Variants that the TVA have caught before. “And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include: shapeshifting, illusion projection, and my favourite-”
“Duplication casting.” Loki interrupts
“Illusion projection.”
“No, they're two completely different powers.”
“How?” You ask him.
“Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure. But you already knew that.” He explains. You catch a glimpse of Mobius’s smirk before he says,
“Okay, take a breath. Noted. We're gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki.”
“Why?” A hunter stood beside you asks.
“Because whoever this Variant is, we haven't been able to find him. So let's bring in an expert.” Loki looks around at the group before adding a quiet,
“That's me.”
As the hunters prepare themselves, you hear Loki ask, “Do I get a weapon?” You laugh lightly,
“No chance.”
“Well, I'll have my magic back. Is no one concerned about that?”
“Of what?” Mobius asks.
“Me betraying you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You know that we’ll just catch you again.” You tell him.
“And how's betraying us gonna get you any closer to the Time-Keepers?” Mobius adds. Loki leans forward, his attention fixed on Mobius.
“An audience with the Time-Keepers is on the table?”
“Keep that focus.” Mobius tells him. The three of you follow the hunters through the Timedoor, and out into 1985 Wisconsin. Your group makes their way through the crowd of the Renaissance fair before entering a large tent. It’s dark inside, with only a few lanterns to light your path. You watch as B-15 bends down to grasp examine a helmet left abandoned on the floor.
“So he's taking hostages now?” She says, turning to Mobius.
“The Variant's never taken a hostage before.”
“Maybe he's upping his game.”
“Or he pruned her.” One of the hunters remarks, you frown at his callousness towards his colleague.
“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.”
“I think you underestimate, actually...” Loki begins.
“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 orders. Mobius sets a hand on your arm, and the two of you head to the exit.
“Come on.” He says to Loki.
“Wait. If you leave this tent, you'll end up like them.” Mobius stops beside Loki.
“What do you see?”
“I see a scheme, and in that scheme, I see myself.” Loki begins to ramble about an old Asgardian saying.
“Two units. He is wasting our time.” B-15 interrupts.
“Okay. Come on, Loki, make a long story short.” Mobius encourages.
“We need to look for C-20.”
“That's exactly what the Variant wants you to do. It's a trap. He's waiting for you outside this tent.”
“Should I secure the reset charges?”
“No. He wants me. I'm the key to his plan. He knows that I'm stronger. And he rightly believes that together we can overthrow and rule the TVA. But that's not what I want. I have a new purpose. I'm a servant of the Sacred Timeline. And knowing what I now know about his tactics, I can deliver you the Variant, but I need assurances.” He says, looking to Mobius. You glance up at Mobius, frowning slightly. Surely he isn’t believing what Loki’s saying? His eyes catch yours and there’s a small twinkle in them. You hide your smile. Loki circles around Mobius.
“Yeah?” Mobius offers.
“Assurances that I won't be completely disintegrated the moment the job has been done.”
“Right.” Loki leans forward, before whispering,
“We'll need to speak to the Time-Keepers at once. They're in graver danger than we realized.”
“He's lying. Just playing games. There's no one out there.” Mobius calls out to the group.
“Reset the timeline.” B-15 orders.
“You had me for a second. My ears are sharp too.” He points at Loki’s chest. You follow Mobius out of the tent.
“Well that went well.” You remark, hearing Mobius sigh. He runs his hand over his face.
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You’re tucking into your lunch when you spot Mobius. He picks out a drink and a salad before making his way over to you. You give him a small smile,
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
“How did it go with Renslayer?” He sighs, leaning his head back, before getting comfortable in his seat.
“Well, our Loki hasn’t been deleted yet.”
“That’s good then?” You offer. He sighs,
“Yeah. Though he’s getting more and more talkative.”
“You did say he loves to talk. Where is he now?”
“I’ve left him with the archives, hopefully he’ll be reading for the next few days. Or at least long enough for me to finish lunch.” He begins to eat his salad. Just then, Loki scampers in looking like a manic puppy.
“I found something.” Mobius shakes his head, keeping his attention on his lunch,
“No, I said don’t bother me until you've read all the files.”
“I have.”
“Every file?”
“Yes.”
“Pertaining to the Variant?”
“The answer isn't in the files, it's on the timeline. He's hiding in apocalypses.”
“Which apocalypse?” You ask.
“Any time in history? There's, like, a million of 'em.” Mobius adds.
“Ragnarok. Are you familiar?”
“Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people. I'm sorry.” Loki pauses looking down.
“Yes, very sad.” He immediately perks up again. “Anyway, it got me thinking. Nexus events happen when someone does something they're not supposed to do, right?”
“Well, it's a little more complicated, but, yeah.”
“Great. And then that thing they're not supposed to do, cascades into a whole range of other things that aren't supposed to happen.”
“And so on and so forth, until eventually, a new timeline branches. Yes?”
“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.”
“Exactly. So, let's just say...” He picks up the salad bowl from in front of Mobius.
“Mm-hm. What are you doing?”
“...your salad is Asgard in this scenario.” Loki continues.
“It's not Asgard, that's my lunch.” Mobius complains, the pouting clear in his voice. You lean forward, a hand on your chin to hide the smile at Mobius’s reaction.
“It's a metaphor. Just hang in there.”
“I want that salad.”
“And I could go down to Asgard before Ragnarok causes its complete destruction and I could do anything I wanted. I could, let's say, push the Hulk off the Rainbow Bridge.” He picks up a salt shaker and puts a large sprinkling of salt across Mobius’s salad.
“There he goes.” You say, feeling rather invested in this metaphor.
“The salt's Hulk?” Mobius asks, clearly not as enthusiastic as you.
“And I could also... Set fire to the palace.” He picks up a pepper pot and shakes the pepper across the salad.
“No, just stop. Don't set fire to the palace.”
“Okay? I can do whatever I want to do, and it would never matter. It wouldn't go against the dictates of the timeline because...” He sets down the shakers after nearly emptying them both. He heads to the table behind you. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, God!” Mobius sighs.
“You!” Recognising the voice you look up to see Casey looking very confused.
“Nice to see you. I just need this for a second. Thanks.” Loki picks up Casey’s carton of juice, before sitting back down at your table. “Because the apocalypse is coming. Ragnarok, Surtur will destroy Asgard no matter what I do.”
“No, don't do...” Mobius sighs as Loki empties the carton over the remains of the salad.
“There's the apocalypse.” You say with a sigh, offering Mobius your bag of chips.
“That's the apocalypse?” He asks, taking a handful of chips from you with a smile.
“Ragnarok obliterates the salt. Ragnarok. There it is.” Loki gestures to the ruined salad with a proud smile.
“What am I lookin' at?”
“Okay, it was a clumsy metaphor. But you see what I mean. It doesn't matter. It could be any apocalypse. It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova. If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction, then nothing that I say or do will matter, because the timeline's not gonna branch. Hence, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever he wants, and we wouldn't know!”
“Not bad.” You offer.
“Take me to a real apocalypse, to Ragnarok, I'll show you.” Mobius chuckles,
“Yeah. So you can run away back to your homeland? No.”
“No, I'm not going home. We can go anywhere.”
“I'm not taking you for a stroll along the promenade, much less an apocalypse.”
“Oh, Mobius, come on! What could possibly go wrong? We gotta properly test this theory.”
“Well, here's a fun theory. You lure me out into the field, and stab me in the back. And that's a theory I don't wanna test.”
“I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's such a boring form of betrayal.” He most definitely would stab someone in the back.
“Loki, I've studied almost every moment of your entire life. You've literally stabbed people in the back, like 50 times.”
“Well, I'd never do it again, because it got old.” You both laugh at this. Mobius looks at you, and you shrug.
“Might as well try it?” You offer. Mobius nods,
“Okay.”
“Okay, look, you don't trust me, you can trust one thing. I love to be right.” Loki adds. That certainly isn’t a lie.
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Tagslist: @n0obmaster69 @mackycat11 @wibblywobblyjeremybearimy @boriqs @morganwilliams @greeneyedblondie44
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grailfinders · 3 years
Text
Fate and Phantasms #196
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Today on Fate and Phantasms we're building the last of the Three Goddesses Alliance, Ereshkigal! (It took her long enough to show up.)
Eresh is a Grave Cleric for relatively obvious reasons, as it lets her do pretty much everything she does- raise the dead, care for the dead, raise the dead properly, cause earthquakes, and start pandemics. Maybe don't do that last one right now, we're kinda busy with one already. It's a shame Soul Cage is a wizard spell, but pobody's nerfect.
Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!
Next up: Now all of China knows you're on the naughty list.
Race and Background
Ereshkigal is part chthonic god, part human thanks to being a pseudoservant, that means Fallen Aasimar is a pretty good choice for her. You get Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Healing Hands to heal with your hands, and the Light cantrip to help the mortals with their dumb mortal eyes, using Charisma to cast it.
She's also the Three Goddess' Representative on behalf of humanity, trying to squirrel some away to prevent them from being entirely wiped out. This gives her proficiency with Intimidation and Religion, as well as an extended spell list we'll go over as it comes up. If you're wondering about the Intimidation: Yes the fandom thinks she's cute now, but you have to remember she's still a god of death. Most people aren't going to be as chill with her.
Ability Scores
Wisdom is first, Ereshkigal spent millennia honing her art alone in the underworld, so either she has a super high wisdom or an incredibly low one. But high wisdom works better for the build, so we'll go with that. Second is Charisma- some people love you, some people are terrified of you, those are both charisma. Your Dexterity is also solid, because your armor is not. Your Constitution is above average because while we don't need it for the build have you SEEN her HP stat? Your Intelligence is okay. You're not dumb, we just need other stuff more. Finally, dump Strength. You're a bit awkward with that spear, but we'll get some stuff to make it work later.
Class Levels
You're 100% Grave Cleric, so we'll just get into it. Starting off in this subclass gets you proficiency with Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as Persuasion to show off your awkward charms and History because you're literally older than the written word. At first level you also enter the Circle of Mortality, so your healing spells automatically heal for max HP on creatures with 0 HP, and you get a suped-up version of the Spare the Dying cantrip that uses a bonus action and has a thirty foot range. You also get Eyes of the Grave, meaning you can sense undead creatures within 60' of you if they're not behind cover. It won't tell you about their identity though, so make sure you don't pick a fight with Strahd, you're still only level one. You can do this Wisdom modifier times per long rest. Starting in a spellcasting class also gets you Spells, surprise surprise, and having a Ravnica background gets you even more. Being a grave cleric gets you Bane and False Life for free, giving you easy access to curses and HP boosts early in the game. Something I want to bring up about the ravnica background before we move forward: I misread how these backgrounds work before. They add spells to your class' spell list, not your spells known. That means builds where you pick spells every level only get the opportunity to learn those spells, they don't just get all of them for free. Clerics can prepare spells from their spell list every long rest anyway so it's not a big difference here, but it is something I'll have to go back and fix for the other members of the alliance and Ishtar. Anyways, you get Illusory Script added to your spell list, not exactly something you'll probably use. For spells you can actually choose, grab Resistance for a goddess core that adds 1d4 to your next save, Thaumaturgy for when you need to get dramatic with extra magical effects, and Toll the Dead to do just that for some necrotic damage. You can also choose to prepare spells like Command to flex your authority and Protection from Evil and Good to flex on your sister.
Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in two flavors. Turn Undead takes care of undead that fail their wisdom save, and Path to the Grave will clear out anything else. Spend your action to curse a creature, giving vulnerability to the next attack that hits it. Rules as written you can't target a mountain with this, and you definitely can't get the bonus for an Earthquake spell, but I'd allow it for the cool factor. Alternatively, you can Harness Divine Power to spend one use of Channel Divinity for an extra spell slot which is a level equal to or less than half your proficiency bonus. You can do this once per long rest, but that will grow as your Channel Divinity uses do.
Usually your third level doesn't get you much of anything as a cleric, but since you're a fallen aasimar you get a Necrotic Shroud, spending an action to get really spooky for a minute. Mechanically, this is your big ghostly form, and it'll frighten nearby creatures that fail a charisma save, and for the minute you're transformed you'll deal an extra bit of necrotic damage once per turn. You can go ghost once per long rest. You also get second level spells now, including your freebies Gentle Repose to prevent people from rising back as zombies and Ray of Enfeeblement, which weakens a creature's weapon attacks for up to a minute. They can make a constitution save to shrug it off, but not until the after the spell's already hit, so at least you'll get your money's worth. Thanks to your background you can also learn the spell Enthrall, making it harder for people to notice anyone but you. As someone who's existed in this fandom for any period of time, I can confirm Ereshkigal definitely has this ability. You can also prepare spells like Spiritual Weapon to have a spear that actually hits good and Protection from Poison for more goddess core shenanigans. Finally, make sure you pick up Silence. I'm still not entirely sure how we'll build Tiamat, but that should help shut off her immortality.
At fourth level you get your first Ability Score Improvement, which won't actually be improving your ability scores. grab the Eldritch Adept feat for the Armor of Shadows invocation so you can cast mage armor on yourself for free. You also learn how to cast Friends to make it easier to make friends and terrify your enemies.
Fifth level clerics get third level spells, including your freebies Revivify and Vampiric Touch. You're the god of the dead, so people should only really die when you want them to. Alternatively, you can Animate Dead to summon some skeletons for your own uses. You can also use Spirit Guardians to get more ghostly defenses. They'll slow down creatures of your choice in your area, and if they fail wisdom save they'll take radiant and/or necrotic damage, with it getting halved if they succeed.
At sixth level you get a second use of Channel Divinity per short rest, and a second use of Harness Divine Power per long rest. You also become a Sentinel at Death's Door, shutting down a critical hit near you as a reaction, turning it into a regular attack Wisdom Modifier times per long rest. Sure, you can bring people back later, but this is way less expensive.
Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells, like Blight and Death Ward. It is really hard for flowers to grow in the underworld. You can also use Leomund's Secret Chest thanks to your background, or you can prepare Banishment to throw Tiamat back where she came from, use Guardian of Faith for more ghosts, and leave an Aura of Purity around you to give your allies the blessings of Kur.
Eighth level clerics get another ASI, and this one will improve your ability scores. Kinda. We're grabbing another feat, but being Shadow Touched will improve your Wisdom by one point. It lets you cast Invisibility or Disguise Self once per long rest for free, or you can cast either spell as if it were a normal spell on your spell list. Now you can really make yourself look ghostly, if a bit undersized for your boss fight. Your destroy undead also bumps up to hit CR 1 creatures, but that'll blow up your skeletons as well, so be careful with it. Finally, Potent Spellcasting adds your wisdom modifier to your cleric cantrip damage. Nobody can toll the dead harder than the god of the dead.
Ninth level cleric, fifth level spells. Antilife Shell prevents anyone from getting too close to you, though it also means you can't get close to them without breaking the spell. It's almost poetic. Anyway, you also get Raise Dead, which is like revivify but with a more lenient time frame. You can also instigate your very own christmas event now with Contagion! This spell poisons a target, and at the end of each of its turns it has to make a Constitution save. After succeeding three throws, the spell ends. If it fails three throws, it gets a disease for the rest of the week. The closest thing to Sumerian Flu is probably Filth Fever, which gives disadvantage on saves, checks, and attacks that use strength, but there's all sorts of diseases you can give people. Technically this isn't a contagious disease, but talk to your DM, I'm sure you can work something out. You can also use Hallow to turn your room into a little slice of the underworld, shutting down your sister even further.
Tenth level clerics can invoke Divine Intervention with a 1 in 10 chance of getting a free favor from your god. Your god is you, technically, but it'll make more sense later. You can use this once per day, but it takes a week to recharge after it actually works. You can also cast the Light cantrip now. You could do it before, but now it's stronger.
Destroy Undead grows to hit CR 2 undead, and you can cast sixth level spells. Create Undead makes stronger undead for your army. Sadly dinosaur skeletons aren't available, so you'll just have to settle for ghouls. At higher levels you still won't get dinosaurs, but you can get ghasts, wights, and even mummies! Just be careful you don't stop recasting the spell, mummy rot can be rough. You can also summon a Heroes' Feast for more blessings from Kur, and you can take on an Otherworldly Form for another ghost transformation. This spell makes you immune to fire and poison damage as well as the poisoned condition. You can fly 40' per round, get +2 to AC, and you can attack with weapons using your wisdom twice per attack action. You're stuck with the UA version of this spell, so it takes an action, but on the plus side this just gives you an excuse to use Spiritual Weapon more.
Use this ASI to bump up your Constitution for more health. Health gets added retroactively, so you get +12 HP now instead of just +1. It's pretty nice.
Seventh level spells! Resurrection further cements your control over death with a time limit of a century, and you can also Plane Shift yourself (or an enemy) into the underworld.
Destroy Undead hits CR 3 creatures now. Not even mummies can stand up to your power!
Fifteenth level clerics get eight level spells. If silence won't keep Tiamat down, Antimagic Field should do the trick. The one problem there is it's only a 10' sphere around you, and you rely on magic way more than Tiamat does. You can also cause Earthquakes, turning a very large area into difficult terrain, disrupting concentration, knocking creatures prone, and destroying structures in the area. The one problem here is that you can't fly, so be careful where you're pointing that thing.
Yet another ASI. Use this one to finally max out your Wisdom for super strong spells and better protection from crits.
If you make it to level 17, you get the super powerful ninth level spells. Also, Destroy Undead hits CR 4 creatures, and you become a Keeper of Souls, stealing away some of a dying enemy's soul to heal an ally based on the creature's hit dice once per turn. Right though, ninth level spells. True Resurrection brings someone back even if they've been disintegrated 199 years ago. It's expensive, but you can always grab some gems from your sister if you're pressed for cash. The benefits of sharing a body.
At eighteenth level you get a third Channel Divinity and another use of Harness Divine Power. Really get those paths to the grave filled, it's kind of your thing.
Use your last ASI to grab the Tough feat for 38 HP now and another 2 next level. You have one of the highest HP stats in the game, this only makes sense.
Your capstone level is an improvement to your Divine Intervention. You know how I keep bringing up multiclassing as a con when we include cleric levels? This is why. Your divine intervention now always succeeds. Period. I mean, it makes sense. You are the god giving you power. But yeah, you get guaranteed god-level power freely given as an action. You truly have the power of god and anime on your side.
Pros and Cons
Pros:
Clerics have a good variety of spells, and you take it even further with your background. You can heal but you're not completely hosed on your own like Medea Lily, you can deal damage and still do stuff outside of combat unlike your sister, and you have utility without your build being dominated by it like Hundred Personas.
You might not be good in a one on one fight, but you don't get into those that often thanks to your skeleton army. If you just dedicate harnessing divine power to keeping them in line, you can have nine extra bodies on the field to turn the action economy in your favor.
Even when we're not talking about spells, you're still really supportive of your team. Shutting down critical hits and stabilizing your allies quickly will seriously improve the longevity of your party.
Cons:
Dabbling in so many areas of magic means you're unfocused, so you won't excel in any one. You won't heal as much as Medea, deal as much damage as Ishtar, or be a skill monkey like Hundred Personas.
You also rely on magic completely for combat, which means stepping into an anti-magic zone can be deadly. This is especially bad for you, since an anti-magic zone will probably be the best way to deal with Tiamat.
You might have an undead army, but your best spells are area of effect and you're a cleric. Destroy Undead is kind of a big deal for you.
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windywooshes · 3 years
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Zhongli x Reader [short]
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Liyue Harbour was a bustling nest of life. Each corner and narrow alleyway hiding secrets, stories and treasures. One may find themselves lost in these busy streets, especially at the late hours when people return from work, enjoying their spare time alongside family, friends or colleagues.
Even if Zhongli felt lost when walking the different bridges and stairs, he always knew where the destination lied. Awaiting his very return. Years over years. Decades over decades.
As one particular fish out of this busy vast ocean, has always brought him tranquility and connection. A sensation of peace he dreaded to feel, he begged to receive. And especially as the eldest god, one that brought a new light into his rather monotone and disruptive life.
With pressure and responsibilities pressing on to his back like a falling boulder, it was just a matter of time until the brunettes legs would succumb to its weight.
But every time he was so close to lose to this wave of anxiety, a hand lifted it up a bit for him to breath in peace and steady his footing again.
Once it was a beautiful flower which graced the rocky pike of the highest mountain in Liyue. Another time it was a loyal feathered companion, following his steps and singing sweet notes of calm. A fieldworker who he shared the exhausting days and relaxing nights with. A secret lover and admirer which hid away in different forms through Teyvat but always found their way back to the side of the Archon. Or was it the other way?
Rex Lapis looked forward to descend, to see which form they have taken with every new meeting they shared. And it would lead to his tensed muscles and mind loosing up a bit. Taking in the moment. Feeling the connection between his folk and him.
No matter how often he hid amongst his own people, it was only with them that he felt true connection to the lands he once fought for and forged with his own bare hands.
„Zhongli!“
The man released the deep breath he held before, opening his amber eyes, he was quick to spot the source of his awakening from daydreams. Turning around he saw a waving figure approaching him amongst the crowds of unknown and familiar faces, a basket full of various wild goods and Qingxin flowers carried on their back which almost threatened to explode. A smile spread on his face, immediately when he saw them.
„(Y/N). I see you have returned well from the mountains, I'm relieved.“
He gently took the backpack made out of straw from the (H/C), but not before pulling out one of the flowers from it and carefully tucking it behind (Y/N)'s ear. He couldn't help but sight in delight to see his darling unharmed. (E/C) shining in happiness as they linked their right arm with his left one to start moving to the apartment they shared in the bustling city.
„How was your work? I hope the parting ritual of the Geo Archon is not straining you too much...you always end up overworking even over your shift. Have you eaten? Did you drink enough?“
While his significant other bombarded him with questions about his well-being, Zhongli let out a laughter. Being cared for like this was something he never experienced before. The people of Liyue and guests from abroad have treated him with respect and love but just as one would do for a deity. No one ever asked his condition, his thoughts and problems as he was seen as the greatest of the gods. Withstanding the Great Archon war all these millennia ago and still holding his ground until the day of this year's ritual. That has been going on until some years ago. When he was once again met with the same spirit which followed him through his first days of godhood. A lone voice which asked for him to be well, to be safe, to offer their shoulder to cry on, to offer their hand in aid. It was that time which made his mind play with the idea of his departure from the heavy position he was seated in. To leave the throne in exchange for peace. This time has arrived just some days ago.
Creating a replica of his form to release once the Rite of Descention was upon him. Letting go of his old life, almost tossing it to the side.
But before his proclaimed death, he descended to make sure to find his way through the new Liyue as it is now. To find a job which would provide him coverage from questions and suspicions...
.
.
.
And to maybe find the soul which warmed his stone cold heart with its presence and prayers.
To his luck, it didn't take him 5 minutes until he was met with a collision between (Y/N) and himself once he left the doors of the funeral house. Both feeling a spark right from the start on which evolved into a deeper connection over the time.
Moving in together was not a problem as the (H/C) already offered him to stay over until he finds himself a place to stay and he has never even tried to leave the presence of the other one. The comfort which was shared too addicting.
Living with (Y/N) felt as if he had spent his entirety in the harbour. The distance he always felt, vanishing whenever he felt their hand gently touching his own. The fire which was lurking at the back of his mind ceasing with one look into their beautiful (E/C) pearls. The weight on his shoulders raised with a single laughter of their voice.
They were his medicine which he needed desperately over all these thousands of years. And he couldn't help but break into a gentle smile whenever his sweetheart crossed his mind. Outshining the most perfect Lapis in whole Teyvat.
Placing down the basket next to the kitchen, Zhongli trotted his way to the shared bedroom to hang up his jacket before returning into the main room. Watching them prepare today’s meal and already placing his gloves to the side to help them out.
(Y/N) was already in the flow of cutting vegetables and other ingredients to put in today's stew. To their dismay, a pair of warms wrapped around their waist, pulling them into a unusual tight hug from behind, breaking the work flow.
A gentle kiss placed on their neck before the man nuzzled his face next to it, sighting in delight. This was all enough to let them sink back to Zhongli's form in relaxation. Feeling his breath tickle against their skin as he started to mumble three simple words of appreciation.
„I love you.“
„I love you too~“
It's always during such small moments, Zhongli knew that he would be save and well in his new life. The fear leaving his scarred body, replacing it with love and appreciation for his significant other. Enjoyment and love occupying his heart.
Being not-so-lost in this always evolving harbour after all, as he had already found himself a place he can call home.
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paversandplatters · 3 years
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||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (6/10)
Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)
Reader x multiple
Chapter 6: Found you.
Philza doesn't see the unexpected obstruction in the middle of the road until it's almost too late. The problem is he's far too engrossed in lecturing his younger proteges after one of them so boldly insulted his longtime companion and friend sat beside him. See the youngling seems to be plagued with diarrhea of the mouth. Philza sits behind the wheel of his rumbling winnebago, relentlessly chewing the ears off of Tommy, who is currently slumped in his seat, struggling to actually pay attention to what the older man is saying.
"May I remind you, if it hadn't been for Techno, this convoy woul-"
"LOOK OUT!" The angular masked man, deck out in leather and denim sits up with a start, eyes wide and fixed on something he sees through the massive windshield. Philza jerks the wheel and stands on the breaks. The contents of the RV shift. Water bottles, canned, goods and other heavy items tumble off the shelves and cubbies, a few crash onto the tops of Tubbo and Tommy's heads, eliciting a colorful string of curses. Both men slam forward as the trailer skids to a sudden halt. Philza and Techno flop back into their seats blinking, breathless, in the side mirror they see the long line of vehicles- pickup trucks, RVs, four-wheelers and even a few sedans- forming a chain reaction of lurching skids, every member of the caravan screeching to a stop, one by one in a billowing cloud of carbon monoxide.
“What in the hell is that?” he sucks in a breath, still gripping the steering wheel as he tries to focus on the figures standing blithely in their path less than twenty yards ahead of them.
One of them is a tall, Caucasian man, dressed in a tattered green pullover with the hood pull up and over an unsettling white mask- the only marking on it being a very minimal smiley face ‘:)’. In front of him stands a much shorter woman in an equally ragged black sweatshirt and jeans. She has one of her muddy boots propped up on the front fender of a fancy Cadillac SUV- the big black kind often used by shady government types- which is currently parked and idling in the middle of the road. The strangest part of this tableau is that the woman is smiling. Even from this distance, she aims her ultra bright grin at the convoy’s lead vehicle as though preparing to sell some new line of kitchen knives.Techno goes for his .38, which is stuffed down his boot.
“Easy Techno, easy…” Philza takes another deep breath, waving the weapon off. He’s a man approaching his early thirties, Philza wears a well worn graphic-t the design too mottled by age to be recognizable. His face marked with the faintest signs of age, his pouchy eyes radiate a certain kindness. “This seem like a group of the living, no sign yet that they aren’t friendly. Just keep your eyes peeled.”
Techno shoves the short barrel pistol under his belt.”you stay here Phil, I’ll go-”
Philza puts his hand up “No, no… Techno I’ll go. You tell the others to keep their cool and tell them to stay inside their vehicles.” The younger man reaches for his two-way radio as the older man climbs out of the cab.
Over the thirty seconds- the amount of time it takes him to struggle down the running board steps, and scuffle across twenty feet of pavement- a chemical reaction occurs. Unseen, subtle, undetectable to anyone other that the three coming to face each other in the middle of the asphalt two lane. It bubbles up within Philza unexpectedly and as powerfully as an electrical charge passing through him. Instantly he dislikes the large fellow looming behind her.
“Morning sir.” The woman occupying the road says with a gleam of neighborly congeniality in her eyes. Philza can see two others behind the tinted glass of the Escalade- Two young men sat in the back seat, their moods and demeanors are unknown. Their hands hidden, their spines rigid, muscles tightly coiled.
“Hello there…” he calls back, faking a smile. He can feel the eyes and ears of his people on the back of his neck. They need fresh souls and strong backs to help with the maintenance, fuel runs and heavy lifting involved in keep the caravan going. At the same time they must be careful. A few bad apples have passed through the group in recent months and have threatened Its very existence. “Something we can help you with?” He inquires.
The thousand kilowatt smile brightens as she adjusts the hem of her sleeves, almost as if she were readying for a sales meeting. “Didn’t want to sneak up on you back there.” She sniffs and covertly follows Philza’s gaze to the ever looming figure behind her. “You never know who you’re going to run into out here in the wilds of biter country. Your group here seem to have it down to a science, traveling in that little cavalcade of yours, always moving… Safety in numbers - it’s genius really.”
“Thank you.” He keeps his artificial smile plastered on to his face.
“That’s quite a vehicle you got there…”
“Thank you.”
“Is that a Cadillac?”
“Yessir, two thousand and seven, still runs like a top.”
“Looks like it’s been in some rough scrapes.”
“That it has..”
Philza nods pensively “What can we do for you? You seem like a woman-“ his eyes flit to the man behind her once more. “Who’s got something on her mind.”
“Names Y/n, just a fellow survivor trying to get by, avoid the unsavory types, the four us have had our full of it.”
“Uh-huh.” He scratches his chin. He knows what's coming and doesn't like it one bit. It doesn't feel right. “ what can we help you with? We’ve got some extra petrol if that’s something you’re interested in… if not we’ve got some bottled water on hand?”
She pours on the charm. “That's kind of you. These are difficult times. The biters out here are often the least of our problems, you have to be real careful. I wouldn't expect you to just take in any old stray you find along the road.” Her expression softens, her eyes filling with sadness and humility. “ Sir, we are good, hardworking people who need a place of refuge if not only for a short time, we need medical treatment, food and the safety of fellowship. It never occurred to us that solace might be found and a moving target like the one you've got here.”
The daylight has dawned enough now for Philza to clearly see the young men hunkered in the Escalade, obviously injured, nervously waiting. he swallows and licks dry chapped lips. “I'm going to have to ask if the two in the Caddy could maybe go ahead and show their hands.” She turns and gives them a nod, one by one the people in the SUV hold up their hands, revealing that they are unarmed.
Phil nods. “I appreciate that. Now may I ask the number and type of weapons you might be carrying?”
She grins. “It’s not much. Got a couple of nines and a shotgun. Big man’s got a snubby. Not much left over in the way of ammo, I’m afraid.”
He nods again and starts to say, “Fair enough, now if I might ask you to-”
Out of nowhere, a number of unexpected noises and quick movements in his peripheral vision interrupts his spiel and makes him flinch as if a bomb has just gone off. A figure from behind him approaches at a dead run, arms pumping excitedly, voice caterwauling-
“HOLY SHIT!! CHRIST, IT’S HER, I TOLD THEM IT WAS HER- I JUST KNEW IT-!!” The young protégé, dressed clad in red and white comes charging toward Y/n, Big man jerks back, reaching for his weapon taken completely by surprise.
“It’s okay! He’s one of ours!” Philza calls out shooting his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s alright, he’s harmless!” Y/n has her face suddenly aglow with emotion, eyes wet as she spots the kid, seeing the grey scarf still tightly knotted around his belt. She opens her arms.
“I fucking knew it!” The young man plunges into her arms. He so much taller than she remembers, that fact makes her heart ache. “I was worried you might’ve been dead.” He murmurs, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. The woman hugs him back, stroking his head with maternal tenderness. The young man begins to softly weep.
Y/n shushes him, murmuring soothing words. “I’m not dead yet… still that ‘cranky-old ass bitch’ you met in that hole.”
The young man now sobs into her neck. “I missed you… I tried coming back for you, but I was afraid… by the time I got help, you were already gone… I just.. I just didn’t think…”
She shushes him again “Now that’s enough of that, I told you not to bother looking back now didn’t I?” Her hand move to rub circles over his back. Nick pokes his head out the window with a furtive look. “What’s the deal..? Are we staying with these people or what.” Philza looks over at the two still embracing and smiles.
“looks like you’re already apart of the family.”
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