#I don’t even have 100 followers yet but gosh you all are so nice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

delicrieux · 4 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

4K notes · View notes

justkending · 3 years

Text

Moral of the Story. Chapter Four.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all this time to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count:

A/N:

Chapter Four:

Bucky groaned as the alarm blared throughout the room. Rolling over to his side, he threw his head into the pillow. That didn’t stop the beeping like he had hoped, so with a groan he pushed up, smacking the red numbers that screamed at him. He rolled back onto his back and blinked up at the bare ceiling.

Today was the day…

_________________

Y/N couldn’t seem to sleep at all, so she woke up early at 6:30 jumping into the shower. Having the extra time, she took it to have a nice long soak in the hot water. The schedule of the day running through her mind.

The chance of them running into each other was practically at 100%. They had a time frame of 9-10 to get in and sign what they needed. Mr. Murdock said something along the lines that it would take about 30-45 minutes to get everything finalized and copied.

So yeah… Within an hour frame of needed 30-45 minutes of signing shit and getting multiple copies made, meant Bucky and her would most likely be sitting next to the other as it was done.

She let out a tired and irritated moan as she finally decided to turn off the water. She had it running for so long, her hands were prunes and the water was becoming lukewarm. The world was telling her to suck it up and move on with the day.

____________

The car ride there was dreadful. Every stop light just elongated the inevitable meeting. Every turn brought him closer to the terrifying reunion.

He was running early to begin with, but after hitting traffic from a wreck, he was now running just a few minutes behind. So weaving through the people who didn’t understand New York traffic was his specialty in showing up in time.

____________

She stopped at the coffee shop by her house before really heading to the attorneys office. The car ride to the place was easy and smooth on her end. From coming from the outskirts of Brooklyn, the inner city traffic was avoided for the most part. So she was there early. She even had a second to sit in her car and drink the latte she had bought. Something about Brooklyn latte’s was 10x better than anything California had.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact they actually had cold weather to pair the hot drink with, whereas where she now lived, the lowest low in temperatures was 70 degrees.

________________

Getting there with just 3 minutes to spare, Bucky rushed out of the car and walked with a hint of speed to the door that read Nelson and Murdock Law Firm.

No sign of Y/N yet, but as he walked in, he heard a shout from the street that caused him to turn as soon as he walked in. He didn’t have a second to register what the shout was about as he took two steps in and ran straight into someone’s back.

“Whoa!” he said, using his hands to brace himself on the mystery person's shoulders, and the other person making the same exclamation. “Oh God, I’m so sor-”

Before he could finish the apology, the women turned showing the face of his matured high-school-sweetheart.

“Oh,” he let out in a breathy turn. He could tell just from past experience with her, she had a snarky comment on her tongue at the run in, but upon seeing him, the words died on her lips. “Hey.”

She looked great. Like, really great after all these years. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful gal to begin with, but you never know how someone’s going to age. However, she looked almost the same.

Sure, she had aged some, but just like a nice bottle of the finest wine in all the vineyards of California. Maybe that was her secret given her new home.

Her Y/H/C hair was styled in loose curls. It was voluminous with a healthy shine to it. She had on an off white, canvas dress that cinched at the waist with buttons going down it. And she had a layered gold necklace going down her chest where the buttons were undone. She looked both professional yet casual at the same time.

Bucky realized he had been staring when she awkwardly looked around her trying to not pay attention to his analyzing eyes.

“Hey,” she said, letting out a deep breath.

She didn’t miss how good he looked either. Even in those facebook pictures that she had found the night before, the ones she found him just as attractive, they didn’t do the real man justice. His hair was just as long as the most recent picture his mother had posted, and he looked more muscular than she ever remembered. The scrubs didn't do his build justice.

He was wearing a navy blue v-neck tight fitting t-shirt. A brown leather jacket that looked as though it was tailored specifically for him and him alone. And lastly, he had on a pair of jeans that of course, fit in him all the right places.

There was a very awkward silence as they stood there not knowing what else to say. Neither now looking at the other, but instead looking at every little inanimate object item in the office.

After what felt like eons of the most tense silence to exist, Bucky was about to speak up again, but was cut off from another person running in late.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry guys,” the voice sighed, out of breath from what they presumed was running to get there on time. “Foggy was supposed to pick me up and we were going to ride together, but he got food poisoning last night, so I had to take the train last minute.”

The man had dark brown hair, a nice suit, and a pair of sunglasses on even though it was overcast today and the sun was barely peeking through the heavy clouds.

“Foggy?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head.

Bucky turned back looking at her with the same question on his mind, but watching the small action of confusion brought him back 10 years. God, it had been so long he had almost forgotten the little mannerisms she had that he found adorable. And damn her for still having that adorable action.

“Oh, right. Franklin Nelson. My co-attorney,” he nodded. “We’ve been friends since we were in college. Friends call him Foggy.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded with a kind smile.

“Anyway, I won’t bore you with my morning chaos. I’m sure you two are ready to get this over with and go on about your day,” he smiled, and pulled a walking stick out from around him as he closed the door. One that neither had realized he had been holding until now. “You two much be James and Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Matthew Murdock.

“It’s nice to meet you Matthew,” Y/N replied sweetly.

“Yes, thank you for helping us out,” Bucky nodded, placing his hands nervously in his pockets.

“It’s my pleasure. I’m so sorry about everything that you guys are having to fix,” he said apologetically. But I’m sure you guys want to go about your day, so please, right this way,” he motioned to the door that was across from them.

Bucky and Y/N both shared an impressed look on their faces as they watched him maneuver through the office gracefully.

They followed close behind him and once they were seated in the chairs in front of the desk, Bucky began to fidget in his spot. Sure the office had been redone and really didn’t look much like it had all those years ago, but the layout was the same. And all it was doing to him was bringing back memories he hated trudging back to the surface.

He subtly looked over at Y/N and saw her sitting in perfect posture watching Matthew as if if she were to look at him and only him, then she wouldn’t have to face Bucky.

Why did he expect anything less? Of course she hated him just as much as she had all those years. She was probably dreading this meeting just as much as him. That small speck of hope that maybe they could be somewhat normal and civil upon meeting again after all this time, completely faded at that point.

“Ok, this really shouldn’t take all that much time since Foggy and I went ahead and wrote up all the things that needed signed and double checked. So we should be able to breeze through all this,” Matthew nodded, bringing up a thick file that looked as though it had tabs on the side organizing them.

Y/N looked over wondering just how he knew the difference between documents and noticed on each tab, there were bariel markings along them.

“If you don’t mind me asking, out of all places to live, why New York? It’s got to be hard getting around such a crazy busy city given.. ” Bucky asked, but didn’t finish not sure how to word it. Y/N snapped her head in his direction and smacked his arm. “Ow!” Bucky jumped, sending her raised eyebrows. “What the hell?”

“I’m assuming you’re asking because of this,” Matthew laughed casually as he pointed to his glasses. “Don’t worry. You would be surprised just how often I get asked that.”

“Yeah, it was just a question,” Bucky pouted toward Y/N while rubbing his assaulted arm. The two falling back into their old behaviors rather fast.

“I wasn’t always blind. I mean I have been for a good chunk of my life, but I’ve lived in New York my whole life as well,” Matthew went on to explain as he moved papers around. “If anything it would be harder for me to get around if I moved any place else. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

“That’s impressive,” Bucky nodded, getting comfortable in his seat.

“Eh, it’s either learn or get bumped around the sidewalk of a place full of people who don’t give a second glance to anyone who’s in their way,” Matthew shrugged. “Oh, I need to go grab something before we start.”

He maneuvered through the room leaving the door open as he went across the office. Tension filled the air as they were left alone for a second time in the past 5 minutes.

Y/N was sitting straight forward, her eyes wandering here and there around the meeting room, but careful not to go over to Bucky’s side of the room. He looked down seeing her hands were fiddling in her lap. She was tapping her thumbs together while his leg bounced up and down.

Bucky had opened his mouth to start to say something, but even he wasn’t sure what was about to come out. Lucky for him, Matthew came back in and went back to his seat.

“Sorry about that. I thought I had it all, but needed to get some pens and one last paper I left on the printer last night.”

“You’re fine,” Y/N said professionally, but kindly. “I have one quick question, if you don’t mind.” Matthew nodded her on with a soft smile. “What exactly happened to Hammer after all this chaos was discovered?”

“Oh, yes. He, uh, he will not be an issue to anyone else to put it lightly. His license was revoked and terminated and he is currently on trial for money laundering and malpractice,” he answered.

“Serves him right,” Bucky mumbled, and instead of getting a smack to the arm, Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Ok, if you two are ready, let’s begin,” Matthew smiled before grabbing the first set of papers.

The two straightened in their seats and the process began.

After a few minutes of just signing, Matthew started to make notes of updated information for the two.

“Ok, Mrs. Barnes, sorry, Y/N,” he corrected quickly. “What is your line of profession at the moment?”

“I work at Horizon Labs in L.A. It’s a company a friend and I from college started up. I’m a Sustainable-Conscious Financial Advisor for a lot of smaller businesses as well as some bigger ones we recently just became partners with,” she answered.

“Horizon Labs, huh?” Matthew said with an impressed look. Bucky turned to look at her as she lightly blushed. “I think I listened to a podcast about them. You guys help companies use recycled goods and find energy efficient technology, right?”

“We just redirect them to people who can help them get those resources. It’s practically just connecting the companies that would work great together in helping the environment,” she nodded humbly.

“That’s amazing,” Matthew smiled. “We need more people and companies like that.”

“Thank you.”

He made note of that on a computer. “I’m assuming with all that, you have to be a little too busy for a second job, right? I don’t need to make note of another?”

“Uh, actually,” she added, Bucky’s already focused eyes on her quirked at her response. “I just invested in a Woman’s shelter with another friend of mine. I haven’t really got to do much with it, but it is a second job as of lately.”

“Wait? Nat?” Bucky caught on.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded almost shyly. Probably the second time out of this whole meeting that she actually made eye contact with him. “My company works with them in getting some of the resources and items they need for the shelter. I talked with Nat and I invested into it some to help with some with their financial advisements.”

“Wow, th-that’s,” Bucky faltered. “That sounds like you,” he said with a breathy laugh thinking about how maybe she really hadn’t changed all these years. That being one of the ‘reasons’ they had broken it off, how people change and all. But that’s a story for another time.

Y/N didn’t show a response to his words, but she did take them in.

“So you run a woman’s home and you run a well-off business that promotes eco-friendly resources for the environment?”

“Well, I don’t run the woman’s home. That’s all my friends doing. I just help where help is asked if I can,” she answered once again humbly. No sense of egotistical pride hinted in her explanations or answers.

“That’s extremely impressive Y/N,” Matthew gushed some, and Bucky noticed the smallest form of attraction come off the lawyer. He straightened at that. “I’ll make a note of it. And you Mr. Barnes. What is your occupation?”

Bucky relaxed his shoulders and focused back at the issue at hand. Trying to not get jealous of something that wasn’t even his to be jealous of.

“I’m one of the head occupational therapist at Stark Theracorp,” he answered. Now it was Y/N’s turn to look at him intrigued. “I run the geriatric occupational therapy floor and manage our equipment and employees. ”

“Two very impressive people in the work field from what I’m getting,” Matthew chuckled some as he made the notes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to ask about income from the both of you for the record. If you want to write it on a paper and hand it to me you can or if you are comfortable saying it outloud that works too. Either way, I’ll have Foggy add it in later to the finalized papers.”

“Wait, so we aren’t finalizing it today?” Y/N asked, somewhat shocked.

“Did Foggy not tell you?” Matthew asked. “I thought he reached out to you before this meeting.”

“I don’t believe so,” Y/N shook her head.

“Well, the reason this one is so quick is because I just need a few signatures and updated notes on you two. After that, I’ll make the altercations for the official papers and I’ll send those to you both on their own to get the final signature. You can either bring them to me here, fax them, or have them sent via mail after you signed off on them.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded. The look of defeat in her posture and facial expressions.

It hurt Bucky a little seeing her reaction to it. Did she really want to get away from him that bad? Was he that much of a nuisance in her life? I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be divorced 9 years ago, but he didn’t want it then and it still hurt seeing just how much she wanted it now.

“That’s not an issue is it? I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Matthew apologized.

“No, no. It’s ok,” she said in reassurance to him. But she let out an almost bitter laugh before she spoke again. “We’ve been married for the past 9 years apparently. What’s a few more days?”

“I guess that’s true,” Matthew laughed with her.

Bucky rolled his eyes discreetly. He really hated how she was reacting with all this. It wasn’t surprising, but doesn’t mean it hurts any less seeing how badly she wanted out of the situation.

“Mr. Barnes, are you ok with that?”

“I’ll survive a few more days, I guess,” he returned just as bitterly as Y/N. The two looked at each other one more time, but this time, anger and annoyance was clear on both of their faces.

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask! It keeps things more organized for me. If you comment, I most likely will not add because I loose them:)

- Tags will be closing soon.

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobley @ximaginx @vicmc624 @leyannrae @lonerlovescompany @jessyballet @angstysebfan @tita127 @semistablecentenarian @im-a-light-child @alyssahowden @studiesinspanish @natyvwe @rebekahdawkins@fanfictionjunkie1112 @millennial-teenybopper @scotlandasshole @aquariusbarnes @shinykoalacat

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @heyiamthatbitch @lizzymacy555 @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @pham-tastical @livstilinski

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @princess-annna

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes reader insert #justkending #bucky barnes #reader insert #marvel reader insert #marvel au #marvel au series #marvel series #bucky barnes x y/n #moral of the story #highschool sweetheart #highschool sweetheart series #marvel bucky barnes

164 notes · View notes

gojology · 4 years

Text

Coffee With Extra Sugar.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | Whew! I finished this after 1 hour and holy crap this is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written, I hope you like it. I’m literally sweating. 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo Satoru x Teacher Fem! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2,314 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Gojo Satoru, the man who didn’t ever get rejected, got rejected by you. Unknowingly having a teensy tiny (or maybe not) crush on him, Nobara gets you to go on a coffee date with Gojo. Through the jumble of mixed feelings, you accept, and find yourself in a position you never thought you’d be in. One-shot. Often times, you found yourself enjoying a nice cup of coffee with extra sugar after teaching the exceptionally unusual teens that Gojo had forced onto you. One was unlike any other, Sukuna’s vessel. Even with the threat of death looming over his head, he was one of the happiest teens you knew. Bouncing around, reminiscent of Gojo in a way. The most remarkable thing about him though, were the eyelids below his very own. Marking Sukuna’s existence on the boy’s body. The other boy, named Fushiguro, had a troubled backstory. His father was the only one to have a complete lack of cursed energy. Maybe that was why he was always brooding, he always seemed to be off in his own land. As for the only female, she was your favorite student. Nobara was albeit, a bit cuckoo, but that’s what you loved her for. Outside of the educational setting, she made an amazing shopping buddy and had an endless bucket list of things to do in Tokyo. Headstrong, stubborn. Happily willing to give you any sort of advice in men, even though she didn’t seem to show a particular interest in them. You told her all about the weird stuff that Gojo would do around you, and she always said that he might have a thing for you, but you never believed it until now. The latest event had been when you were lounging in one of the spare rooms at Tokyo Jujutsu High, drinking another cup of coffee after the extreme levels of stress and torture that was training the trio. Gojo had casually strolled in, loudly announcing himself as he slid the door roughly shut. “Oh (Y/N)! I was looking all over for you!” “Really? I wasn’t. Leave me alone, I’m not talking to someone who calls himself a teacher and then dumps a buttload of crazy teens onto me.” you calmly replied, sticking out a pinky whilst sipping your coffee. Although you found your eyes to be glued onto Satoru. He dramatically stuck a hand onto his chest, leaning backward just a little as if he had been told he shouldn’t have ever been born. “Me?! Oh no, I wasn’t dumping the kids onto you sugar. I’m a busy guy, being the strongest sorcerer and all.” he gloated, grinning a little. You grunted before pulling out your phone. “Pay attention to me, why don’t you?” he muttered softly, digging his hands into his back pockets. Did you hear that right? Clearing his throat, he loudly sat down next to you, even though there was another chair on the other side of the table. Crossing his legs, he began to speak. “So, (Y/N), I felt really bad for dumping the kids onto you, and I thought, hey! Why don’t I take you out for a meal or two? You know we don’t really know each other out of work and I’ve been meaning to talk to you more-” “No.” “Why not?” combing his hair with his hands, he almost looked sad, but you knew where it was going to go. You had seen Gojo date girls for 2 weeks and break up with them after. It’d be weird to date a co-worker for an astounding total of 2 weeks and then immediately get broken up with afterwards. Besides, he was probably horny and hadn’t found a girl willing enough to talk to him back, even despite a face and body that looked like it was sculpted by the Gods. “I know what you do with girls, just fuck with them, not looking for that.” You scrolled through the article you were reading, something about some 11 year old child getting their cancer removed miraculously, probably a super nice jujutsu sorcerer. The silence grew between you two, Gojo’s eye shifting to you when you weren’t looking, and your eyes shifting to him when he wasn’t looking. You almost wished you were a bit friendlier. “Right.” he mumbled to himself, before getting up and walking to the door. You felt something bad growing inside of you. Looking back at you one last time, he shut the door. “I’m telling you, (Y/N), Gojo-Sensei was trying to ask you out, ARE YOU THAT DENSE?” snapped Nobara, who was busily lecturing you about how you had seriously fucked up. “I didn’t know!” you whined, “I thought he was just being stupidly friendly! It didn’t cross my mind!” “Gosh, woman, men aren’t hard to work. Gojo is 100 times easier, hand him a box of candies and he’ll probably whip out a ring. All you had to say was yes!” “...What if I didn’t want to say yes?” you shot back. “Hah, shut up, I’ve heard the way you’ve described that man, acted as if he descended down from heaven” You definitely didn’t have a crush on him, but you did let your mind wander sometimes, in some indecent areas sure, but wasn’t that true for everyone? “Okay, and what do you want me to do now? Want me to just.. Go talk to him and ask for the chance back? That’s embarrassing, and as I said, I don’t have a thing for him.” “I’ll snag that chance back for you, but you seriously owe me one. I’ll even get Fushiguro and Yuuji on board, but they’re almost always doing stupid stuff and I have to convince them with the weirdest shit to get them to cooperate.” “Nobara, no cursing first of all, there was no reason to, plus I don’t NEED the date, why are you even-” “Oh shut up.” The next day, you found yourself urgently rushed to a coffee shop by a poorly disguised Nobara, Yuuji, and a less then willing Fushiguro. You scanned the shop, the scent of coffee so strong it wafted out of the interior. Gleaming windows with, “Kento and Coffee Inc.” proudly painted on the window. Wearing a white t-shirt and a long trench coat, with a long plaid skirt, you found yourself self-conscious. Were you too overdressed? Nobara had told you that you were supposed to dress in a cute “dark academia” (whatever the heck that is, she showed you a few pictures of it online though.) style of fashion. “Don’t worry! Just follow whatever I said earlier, I’m an amazing Cupid and I just know there’s something between you two! I’ll be in the corner, watching you guys, just don’t mess up!” Nobara chirped, handing you a red scarf to borrow from her closet. You hastily threw it on, taking a deep breath in and breathing out. Trying to casually stroll into the coffee shop. There Gojo sat, casually dressed in a black t-shirt. A pair of circular black shades perched on his nose, lazily eating a cake pop. Your heart skipped a beat, even though he probably didn’t even try with the outfit he wore, you still found him absurdly attractive. He jumped up, “Oh fuck, I thought everyone ghosted me.” he looked at you, tilting his head slightly as if he was confused. “I thought Yuuji and the crew were gonna be here too. Didn’t ever show though, do you know what happened to them?” “O-Oh, um, yeah, I think I heard that Yuuji and Nobara got distracted and was going to some newly opened sushi restaurant instead. Fushiguro didn’t wanna thirdwheel or something like that.” You swore you saw him smile slightly. “So it’s just you, and me?” You looked around, hoping to God that Yuuji would pop up and tell the world about his love for Jennifer Lawrence. “It would.. Appear so.” He clasped his hands together, beckoning at the cashier at front. “I’ll go get some coffee for us, any idea what you want yet?” “Uh, just coffee with extra sugar.” “Gotcha.” You found yourself staring at his hands, playing with the hem of his pocket as he walked up to the small line. His fingers were impossibly long, and you couldn’t help but realize how veiny and large his hands were. Snapping yourself out of your daze, you grumbled, taking the trench coat off, it had suddenly gotten hot. Pulling out your phone, you pretended to read, but in actuality you found yourself ogling his impossibly tall body, and how undeniably hot his voice was. It was alright to find him attractive right? Sure, you hated a lot about him, like, like... Well, you couldn’t think of anything off the top of your head right now. But you for sure knew you hated him. Yuuji snickered, “Gojo’s girlfriend is getting flustered, look at her cheeks.” He giggled, pointing at you. Fushiguro slapped Yuuji’s pointed hand down, hissing at him, “You’re going to fuck over this operation. Didn’t your mom ever tell you to NOT point?” “I don’t even have a-” “SHHHHHHH!” Nobara shushed them, gesturing to Gojo now walking over to the table where you were sitting. He slid the chair out and sat down, grunting as he did. He looked down at you. “So, anything new with the kids?” You gulped, a warmth flooding to your cheeks, the way he looked at you made you feel weird, and you couldn’t find yourself to make a cheeky remark. “U-Uh, um, no, uh, Fushi-, I meant Yuuji, he’s doing as good as usual... And uh, Nobara’s doing pretty good too! Fushiguro’s just... Uh, you know, haha” you giggled nervously, “acting as normal.” He laughed, “That’s Fushiguro, guy doesn’t even crack a smile. Yuuji’s a special one isn’t he? No idea how he acts all cheerful even though he knows he’s gonna, you know.” “Guy doesn’t deserve it.” “I know.” you pursed your lips, not wanting to talk about such a serious topic. Seemingly noticing your discomfort, he turned his head over to the cashier who was now loudly shouting, “Order 132! Order 132! Two regular coffees with extra sugar, 2 donuts, 4 cake pops, and a slice of cake!” “That’s our order~, what good timing!” Gojo sang, immediately springing up to fetch the coffee and the absurd amount of sweets Gojo had ordered. “Gojo-Sensei sure does have a sweet tooth.” Yuuji pointed out, looking at Gojo casually walking back and handing you your coffee. “Yuuji, did you seriously just notice that?” “Yes. Why? Do you look at Gojo-Sensei eat? You’re really weird Fushiguro.” Fushiguro let out a sigh, and Nobara giggled, but now all their attention was focused at the pair, drinking their coffee. “So, uh, any idea why the kids invited us here?” he said, playing with his strikingly white hair. Your stomach did backflips, it looked so soft. Wait, fuck, why were you even thinking these things?

“Uh, yeah, something about.. Um,” FUCK. You were supposed to say you didn’t know. “Something about... Putting us on a... Blind date?” You mumbled sheepishly, Nobara crumpled on the table, murmuring about how stupid you were. Shit, fucking shit, you weren’t supposed to be honest.

“Really now?” Gojo inquired, lifting an eyebrow and putting his arm on the table, leaning his face onto his hand. He took a bite out of his donut. Now your face was really burning, why were you acting so strange? Could it be true? You had a crush on Gojo Satoru? At first, you wanted to reject it, but the feeling settled in. It made more sense to you then not having a crush on Satoru. The feeling of regret when he tried asking you out, the many times where you found yourself ogling when he was naked, the amount of dreams you had about him. You really did have a crush on him, huh? You stammered, a rush of self-confidence flooding into you, “Fuck it.” you breathily mumbled, “I like you, Satoru.” The doubt settled in as soon as Gojo looked at you, wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. Nobara was even shocked herself, she had never seen you as headstrong as this. Fushiguro and Yuuji were in an intense discussion about their preference in women, well, more like Yuuji, Fushiguro was ignoring him, looking at the wall instead of the surprising twist in the date. “You like me, (Y/N)?” “Fuck, yeah, yeah I do.” you looked at his shades, oh how you wish you could see his eyes right now. A slow grin spread across his face. “I like you too, (Y/N).”

Nobara, now quietly cheering and shaking Itadori and Fushiguro gesturing to you two, chewed them out for not seeing the events building up to the climax.

“Really?”

“Yes, really, sugar.”

Everything felt unreal, you had never thought you would find yourself in this position ever, was this a dream? You tried pinching yourself.

He snickered, “No (Y/N), this isn’t a dream. I really do like you.” he rubbed the back of his neck, readjusting his crooked shades. “I would even say I’ve liked you for a while.”

It had never dawned on you that he wasn’t being flirtatious just to be flirtatious, he was actually actively trying to

get you.

“I can’t wait to tell the kids this.” he grinned to you, smiling widely. “Fuck, this feels like a dream to me too. I didn’t think you actually showed any interest in me.”

You couldn’t even be cheeky back, you were in a state of euphoria.

“Actually sensei.” you turned to look who was talking, Yuuji was excitingly bouncing up and down. Fushiguro looked like he wanted to be launched off a roof. “We set up the blind date.” Nobara smiled, looking at the pair. “You know, I’ve always seen the romance and chemistry between you two, and you guys finally worked it out like adults!”

Why did you get the feeling that she was mocking you too? Regardless, you had walked into the coffee shop single, and you walked out with the guy who had stolen your heart for years now, without you even realizing. All thanks to Nobara.

336 notes · View notes

dreamsfreckles · 4 years

Text

[11:27a.m] JealousyIsFound

GeorgeNotFound x reader

Fluff

Just some jealous simp gog content - enjoy!

You, Sapnap, and George were sitting in a small booth at a rustic coffee shop. Dream and your other friend still had yet to arrive, giving you and the two boys a good thirty minutes of sitting around to do. You and your other girl-friend decided it would be fun to take everyone shopping at a new mall that opened up nearby. Luckily, it wasn’t too difficult to convince the boys to come. You have fantastic guilt tripping skills. With all jokes aside, everyone was excited to spend the day together and explore the new shopping center.

Sapnap was the first to arrive; it’s kind of weird that he is the most punctual of the bunch. Then you came, almost dropping your purse and slamming into the side of the building after using the wrong side of the door. And finally, our beloved George, who looked like he would rather die than come shopping with everyone. Dream and your friend were carpooling and called in to tell you that they would be late due to some traffic on the highway. So for the time being, you, Sapnap, and George decide to go ahead and order a treat from the bakery side of the shop.

“What are you getting, y/n?” You shrug your shoulders at Sapnap. “I don’t know, I’m indecisive.” You sigh. George looks over at you with a surprised look on his face. George has noticed every time you go out, you usually go with the same thing: an iced caramel macchiato and a double chocolate chip muffin. “No muffin?” He questions. You scrunch your nose, looking at all of your options. “I don’t know anymore... everything looks really good today.” You mumble. ‘That’s weird,’ George thinks. You scan your eyes over the display cases of pastries once again. Feeling hopeless, you elbow Sapnap in the side. “What about you samsung, what do you want?” Sapnap rolls his eyes at the nickname. “I think I’m just going to get a cheese danish. Those usually slap.” He confirms. You hum in agreement. “Maybe I’ll copy you.”

George furrows his eyebrows and looks at you two judgingly. “Are you guys okay?” You and Sapnap both peer at George. Sapnap is the first to speak. “What? Cheese danishes are good!” George scoffs at his answer. “Whatever.” You giggle at George’s response to Sapnap, causing George’s ears to flush. George forced himself to look away from your smiling face and up to the menu. He shouldn’t get this nervous when you look at him like that... it was your normal face! Nothing special to him! You have the same ugly face all the time! Why would it make him nervous..? Once George was finished arguing with himself in his mind, he decided he should probably choose what he wanted as well.

Once you all chose your preference of baked good, you headed back to your booth. You slid into the right side, followed by Sapnap, with George across from you on the other side. George decided to go with an everything bagel with cream cheese while you and Sapnap enjoyed your danishes. “You’ve had their danishes before, right?” Sapnap asked you, unwrapping his. You shook your head. “No, I usually just get their double chocolate muffins. Are they good?” Sapnap looks at you incredulously. “Are they good, you ask? Oh, they aren’t just good. They’re incredible.” George watches you and Sapnap, amused. “How often do you come around for these cheese danishes, Sapnap?” George mocked. Sapnap looks at George with challenging eyes. “A little less often than your mom and I’s date nights.” You immediately facepalm. George’s eyes narrow and he lets out a sarcastic “ha ha.” After facepalming the pain away, you get started on unwrapping your pastry. This attracts George’s attention. “Let me know if you like it.” George proclaims, earning a smiley ‘okay’ from you.

Sapnap glances between your guys’ exchange, already figuring out underlying emotions between you two. He feels a wave of mischief come over him. Why not mix things up?

Sapnap turns his head to face you, a smirk on his face. “Y/n, has anyone told you that you look really nice today?” You gasp at the compliment. “Oh my gosh, really? No, no one has! I thought I looked like a mammoth today, thank you!” you smile at Sapnap, astonished by his compliment. That was so nice... ‘I wish George would say something like that to me..’ you thought to yourself.

George glances at you and Sapnap in disbelief, mildly irked that he said that to you. Since when did he care about what you looked like?

About 15 minutes go by with Sapnap still flirting with you and George sulking in his seat. You’re still smiling. He looks down to his bagel. Bouncing his leg, he looks at you again. You’re laughing now. George begins to sweat a little. He looks out the bakery’s window to calm himself. He turns towards you again. You’re giggling. Fucking giggling. George rolls his eyes, facing more towards the window again. Is this for real right now? Are you seriously into Sapnap? George fidgets in frustration. This is torturous to George.

As if on que, Dream and your other friend finally stumble in through the bakery glass doors, peering around to look for the table. George raises his arm to catch their attention. “Dream, over here!” he calls out. Dream turns at the sound of George’s voice and smiles once he sees him. “Finally!” George exclaims in relief whilst Dream jogs over to pull him into a hug. “I’ve been stuck with these nimrods for too long.” George sighs. Dream chuckles at him and glances over to you and Sapnap. “Should we leave now since you’ve been waiting so long?” Dream suggests. “Well if you and y/f/n want a pastry or coffee then we can all wait.” Sapnap suggests. “The danishes are superior here.” y/f/n scoffs at Sapnap. “We know Sapnap, you’ve only mentioned that to us 100 times before we even had plans on meeting here.” You laugh at her and Sapnap and then look over at George who is already looking at you. He playfully rolls his eyes, causing you to giggle with him. “Well...” Dream starts. “I’m kind of ready to go, do you want anything y/f/n?” She shakes her head in reply. “Nope, I’m ready.” And without further debate, you were off to Dreams car to leave for the mall.

Once you all made it to the parking lot, standing by Dream’s car, you all discussed the seating. Dream drove a jeep, which provided the perfect amount of seating for all of you. Sapnap ended up calling shotgun so he could DJ whilst dream drives; leaving you, George, and y/f/n to all sit in the back. You three played rock, paper, scissors to establish who sits in the middle, resulting in you losing to sit in between them. George sat to your right and y/f/n sat to your left. It was a kind of uncomfortable squeeze but thankfully since you were in such a good mood, you weren’t too bothered by it. Plus George was warm so...

As you shifted around to get comfy, George threw his arm over the back of the seats behind your head; basically having his arm around you. Facing the other way he awkwardly coughed into his fist, cheeks tinged pink. Smooth George, smooth. Noticing his arm, you shyly played with your fingers in your lap, a small smile on your face.

“Alright!” Dream begins backing out of the parking spot. “Time for some shoppin’!” everyone collectively agreed in excitement. George sighed in content with you leaning into him.

This will be interesting...

Hey guys! Hope you like it! <3

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I suddenly got inspiration to finish it up! sorry for errors! Let me know how to improve :)

Sapnap is next hehehe

also, this has the potential for a part 2... if anyone is interested... LMK!!!

459 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

innocence - 27

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: my god i really took a whole month to write this. i am sooo sorry, but i was a bit stuck with the narrative. thankfully it’s moving forward. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N watched him walk up to his bag to removal a navy blue square box. She furrowed her brows, leaning on her hands on the worn out duvet from her teen years as he sat by his side. His cheeks were dusted pink, lip stuck between his teeth as he handed it to her. Y/N merely looked at him like a child who knew nothing of the object that had been placed on top of her hands. All she knew was that it was in her hands and felt more expensive than the homemade present she had manage to hid under all her chunky Christmas outfits Bucky deemed unnecessary. He was nervous, heart pounding under the several layers of clothing he was wearing to protect himself from the cold. Rebecca had warned him to be careful, maybe to thread around lightly as she could be freaked out. His pace seemed to slow down as he walked up to the bed were she was so innocently and calmly looking at her. It’s gonna be fine, Barnes, man up, he told himself.

- You don’t have to accept it. I just ... I thought you might want it.

- Bucky, you’re rambling. - she cocked her head to the side, giving him a teasing smile as he sat by the bed. - The only reason someone should be so nervous is if they’re proposing.

- Uhm ... - he rubbed the back of his neck as he set the box on the bed. All the colour drained from her face and she put her hands in front of her mouth.

- Are you proposing? Gosh, did I ruin it? Oh my I ruined a proposal, again.

- Not quite. - he gave her a toothy grin. - And when did you ruin a proposal?

- Long story. - she rested her chin against her hand.

- Well, when my ‘ma died she left me and Rebecca a lot of stuff. - he opened up the old blue velvet box to show a small pearl necklace laying against the padded black satin fabric. - She left me this ... outta all things. Said I should give it to a nice girl someday but I’d never met a nice girl until I met you ...

- Bucky. - her lips almost pouted as she tried not to get her emotions get the best of her. It was nothing special, it was really nothing special but to hear him, the man she was so hopelessly in love with, say she was a nice girl was making her heart beat faster.

- You don’t have to wear it ... it’s probably too old and ... well I just wanted you to have them. My dad gave it to my mum before he got shipped off and I thought I’d give them to you ...

- Wait, you’re not being shipped off, are you? - she wrapped her arms around his neck. - Because if you did good news first and bad news last, I’ll be very upset.

- No, no, no. I’m not being shipped out ... I think I’m to old for that. - he chuckled. - The point is, he gave it to her as a labour of love and I want it to give it to you as a labour of love too. Except without the shipping off.

- Bucky, it’s beautiful. - she looked down at the box. - And it’s not too old.

- It’s over a hundred years old.

- You’re over a hundred years old. - she gave him a teasing look, kissing the corner of his mouth. - Maybe I fancy things over a hundred years old.

- Yeah? - he smiled at her. - Do you wanna put it on?

- Can you help me? - she handed him the pearls, turning around to face the mirror in front of her bed. Bucky draped the small pearl string around her neck, clasping it at the back before putting his hand on her shoulder, his head resting in the curvature between her neck and shoulder. Her finger traced the imperfect circular shapes of the pearls, soft smile on her lips. - Bucky, they’re beautiful. Thank you.

- Thank god you like them. Sam’s been in my head all day sayin’ you’d think they’re too old. - he kissed her neck as she laughed. - Besides, I didn’t really know what to give you. I can’t really give you the moon.

- The moon sounds like it’d take too much space in the house. Can you imagine? I live in a one bedroom flat, I barely have space for me and my thoughts.

- Stop it. - he held her chin to turn her face so he could kiss her. - You know, missy ... you still owe me for that stunt you pulled in the airplane.

- You know I would love to finish it ... - she threw her legs over his. - But I have to go with my mum tomorrow morning to pick out last minute gifts and she is an early bird.

- Uhm ... you torture me. - he wrapped his arms around her. - But I’ll let it slide this time.

Bucky couldn’t sleep that night, he stood up all night looking at her; the way the moon illuminated her skin against the dusty blue sheets, the pearls drapped over her beautiful skin. Bucky thought in that moment he was the luckiest man in the world and that maybe it was all worth it. Maybe falling from the train, becoming HYDRAs fist, Zemo, wars, everything ... maybe it was worth going through all of that because if he hadn’t gone through all of that, he wouldn’t be what he was today and he wouldn’t have met her. It was worth knowing it, it was worth having her. He remembered his mum reprimanding him every time he’d break up or start seeing yet another girl “James Barnes, you gotta stop playin’ around and find yourself a nice girl who you love and loves you back for who you are”. He didn’t believe her, he knew why girls were into him, or into the uniform so he didn’t really believe someone would want to stick around with him being a soldier. But Y/N, Y/N loved him with that and even all his nightmares and trauma. He couldn’t help but want to keep her safe despite that being what his job entailed, and it made his blood boil whenever he thought back to how someone had broken into her place, into her safe space. It made him more upset he hadn’t figured out who done it. Not even Steve or Natasha found any clues, it was almost as if it never happened but he had pictures, he had pictures of that word written across the mirror.

He could not stop thinking about it, he couldn’t sleep about it. He hadn’t been able to sleep in a while, afraid something would happen to her while he was asleep. He had failed to protect her, someone had gotten into her home and god... something could have happened and he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to defend her. He couldn’t even do his job right. He couldn’t protect his girlfriend.

Bucky stood up all night until the early morning when the clock shone 7:30 AM. She moved around, signalling she was more awake than asleep. He smiled, kissing her forehead as she opened her eyes.

- Morning, princess.

- Buck, you need to sleep. - she said in her cute sleep filled voice. - It’s too early for you.

- I don’t need sleep. Super soldier, remember, doll?

- That can’t be right. - she rose up from the bed, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. - You sure you’re okay being alone? I could ask my mum ...

- Go have time with your mum, princess. I’ll be fine, promise you.

- Do not let my sisters give you any trouble. Or my brother ... or any of my sister’s husbands. You know what? You’re allowed to cuss them out if they do.

- I’m sure it’ll be fine. - he watched as she got dressed and covered into layers upon layers. He had forgotten how cold England was. - You don’t have to worry.

- Yes I have. They’re very persuasive, they’re lawyers. They will convince you to do things you don’t even want to do with you noticing.

- I’ve been through mind control before, I’m sure I can handle it, doll face.

- Doll face? - she smirked. - That’s a new one. You sure you’re not trying to butter me up so I finish what I started.

- Nonsense. - he got up from her, slowly walking up to her, hands resting upon her waist as he whispered against her ear. - It’s not like you need any buttering up isn’t it, princess?

- I ... - her face grew warm at the thoughts that filled her head.

- Y/N! Honey, are you ready? - her mother’s knock on the door, followed by her opening it just the slightest bit interrupted her sex filled thoughts. - We don’t wanna catch a confusion.

- Yeah, mum. Just saying bye to Bucky.

- Oh, Bucky ... there’s breakfast downstairs if you want. The boys are all up, maybe you can socialise.

- Mum ... - Y/N said through a tight smile as the three walked from the bedroom into the hall.

- You worry too much. - her mother ushered down the stairs to the door where her father was leaned against, waiting. Y/N kissed Bucky goodbye before being pushed out of the house.

Bucky couldn’t say he was particularly comfortable. It wasn’t that her family wasn’t nice, they were as inviting as one could be but he barely knew them and the last thing he wanted was to scare them off or leave a bad impression. After all, there wasn’t a lot of his family Y/N had to impress and whatever was left of it she had left a great impression but her family, well, her family probably did not expect a 100 year old soldier bodyguard dating their actress daughter. Yet again, who does?

He walked into the dinning room where most of her family was sat down happily eating breakfast until they became aware of his presence. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, ready to mumble an apology before Aunt Petunia was grabbing him and seating him down on one of the free seats.

- So, Bucky, what do you want to eat?

- Uhm ... just black coffee is fine. - he spoke and as fast as he did, a cup of coffee was in front off him.

- Don’t you want anything to eat? Oh, is this a super soldier situation where you cannot eat? Is it because you’re a 100? Honey, do you need any medication?

- No, no, m’am. I’m just not a breakfast person.

- Uhm, I see. Did you sleep well? I couldn’t sleep all night with Sophie ... - Petunia looked at Claire who rolled her eyes at her. - Crying all night.

- I’m sorry that we can’t control when a baby cries, Aunt Petunia. - Claire replied before returning to feed some crushed banana to her baby.

- Babies. - the old woman rolled her eyes, before redirecting her attention towards Bucky. - Do you want them?

- Pardon?

- A baby. You want a baby right? Y/N has always wanted babies ... of course she keeps forgetting she won’t be fertile forever.

- Uhm ... I don’t know, Y/N and I haven’t really discussed having a kid.

- I don’t wanna know about that. I wanna know if you want a baby.

- I don’t know if I can have a baby. - he sighed, looking at any of Y/N’s siblings for help.

- What do you mean you don’t know?

- Bucky. - Claire interrupted her aunt. - Do you mind getting the mail? We haven’t checked our post box since we arrived and it’s probably pilling up.

- Yeah. - he got up from his chair before he could be asked any more questions.

Could he have a baby? He didn’t know; Steve couldn’t and Steve hadn’t. gone through all the brainwashing and shock therapy he had gone through. Besides, he refused to know and he didn’t really care about it. Why would Bucky Barnes, an ex murderer for HYDRA, want to bring a kid into this world? No, the world was better off this way and he did not want to know the answer anyway despite the idea of a family haunting his fantasies. Thankfully Claire had saved him and for that alone, he was almost certain she was his favourite sibling out of all. Checking the post wasn’t too hard and surely no one would ask about his family planning on the way to the post box.

He let the door behind him as he passed through the snowy ground until the postbox which, despite most of Claires belief, was quite empty except for a few postcards, bills and a particular letter that caught his attention. He looked around before putting the rest of the mail under his arm and started to inspect the letter. It had no stamp, no sender, not even an address, just Y/N’s name in the front written in cursive. Bucky knew he shouldn’t open her mail but he just didn’t trust it and as he ripped through the envelope, his suspicious heightened.

You cannot hide, whore.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @bbabysbaby @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir

144 notes · View notes

ssa-dg · 4 years

Text

Walls are Built to be Knocked Down

Overview: this takes place in season 7 episode 2. You joined the BAU after the death of Emily and JJ’s departure. However when they both come back, everyone is shook up.

TW: mentions of drugs, murder, rape (it takes place in the episode). Adult themes

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female) reader

Word count: 3352

Author’s note: so I have been wanting to write another short story about Spencer but couldn’t get myself to do it. Glad I got inspired by episode 2 of season 7. This is when Spencer is still mad at JJ about Emily. The unsub is the one who is neuro-divergent and is obsessed with his brother’s wife. If you have any suggestions on how to write a better Spencer Reid, I would love that. I struggle with writing an accurate Reid because he is supposed to be so smart and I’m the type of person who has been told she’s “dumb” so it’s an insecurity of mine. Give me advice if you have any just be nice. P.S. the formatting on this is so weird. I don’t have my laptop rn because it’s getting fixed and the mobile version of this app sucks lol

You and Spencer were never really good friends. You two were good coworkers and you always got along well, but it took Spencer a lot to let people behind his wall. So when you joined the team from the whit collar unit, after Emily’s death. You could tell everyone on your new team was grieving, and because you didn’t know them all that well you didn’t pry. Though slowly each member let things slide to you about their grieving. You didn’t expect that to happen but you weren’t surprised. You were always a reliable person, old friends would come out of nowhere just to talk to you about their problems, or random people in cabs, on the subway, etc. You just had that air about you, one that was dependable, nonjudgmental, and understanding. Your family called it your superpower.

So when Emily turned out to be alive and JJ and Hotch knew the whole time, the team was stunned. You didn’t fully comprehend the travesty of what they went through but you understood the pain and relief that accompanied them. Knowing they probably had 100 million different conflicting emotions swirling in them you suspected they’d be going through “it” the next months.

As JJ walked into the BAU with Prentiss talking about how she had passed all the qualifications to finally become a profiler, JJ saw Spencer come out of the elevator. “Hey, where have you been?” JJ asked him, “I wanted to do brunch this weekend”

“I had to deal with some stuff with my mom,” he flipped through the pages in a file to avoid eye contact with his friend, “have you seen Y/N?” he finished.

“Uh, she’s at her desk I think,” Spencer sped off to your desk. “He hates me,” JJ finished.

You sat at your desk looking over case files when Spencer came rushing up to you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you and looked around.

“What’s up?” You asked expecting there to be a reason he came to your desk.

“Nothing just wanted to say hi,” he saw JJ and Prentiss go into the round table room.

“Well, hi,” you laughed and followed his gaze to your two co-workers. “Ahh, I see,” you said out loud.

His head looked down at you,” what do you mean ‘ahh, I see,’?” He was obviously annoyed by your statement.

You raised your hands up in surrender, “nothing, nothing. Shall we go?” You stood up and tilted your head towards the conference room. He nodded his head.

When you guys walked in and you went to sit in an open seat next to Morgan, Spencer lightly grabbed your elbow and pulled you the opposite way and had you sit between him Emily and JJ. You just looked at him knowing what he was doing. Although you gave him a glare to indicate you didn’t like being manhandled by him, you secretly enjoyed it. You were unsure why it did it but it created a feeling in you that you were not ready to associate with your coworker. He just gave you a bit of a ‘don’t-say-anything’ glare and looked back down at the file. You rolled your eyes and felt Prentiss looking at you. You shrugged your shoulders as if to say ‘I don’t know why he just did that’.

In walked Rossi and Garcia, “look master of all things Italian, I am having a Fellini festival at my house this weekend and I must serve the beautiful food of his country.” Garcia insisted.

“Maybe you should show a Disney movie and stick with burgers,” Rossi responded, still a bit offended by the pig substitute.

“You know, Rossi, you could always give Penelope a cooking lesson,” Derek suggested.

“I could help,” you spoke up from across the table. Everyone looked at you confused, “You all act like I’m not Italian. I used to go back there every summer to visit my extended family,” you rolled your eyes and defended yourself.

“Oh my gosh that would be amazing. That would be like- that would be like the iron chef meets the BAU,” Garcia looked back and forth between you and Rossi. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you and looked at him. His scrunched up eyebrows and set jaw told you that he didn’t know that about you or maybe he forgot. You just smiled at him, and tilted your head like it was nothing.

“And we could do it at your house,” Garcia looked over at Rossi.

“I don’t have a house. I have a mansion,” he laughed.

“All right let’s get started,” Hotch instructed.

Everytime JJ talked at the round table, Reid couldn’t even look at her. He kept his gaze down and you saw the muscle in his jaw bone tighten as he clenched his it. The victims were girls who all looked the same, helping a bit to narrow down the victimology. The dump sights also helped narrow down the geographical, although nothing was ever set in stone right off the bat. Everytime Spencer spoke you could tell there was hidden meaning beneath it all directed towards JJ.

On the jet you dug in deeper into the case. You started to notice Spencer stuck close to you, as if you were an extra layer of shielding from JJ. He sat next to you and when JJ spoke he’d either look down at the files in his hands or at your files in your hand. “Dave you and I will talk to the parents.Y/LN head over with us to the police station, and get us set up. Go over what they have and talk to the detectives. Morgan and Prentiss go to the disposal sites. JJ, you and Reid to the abduction sites,” Hotch ordered. JJ gave a soft smile to Spencer and you felt him tighten up next to you, and look away from her. Her smile faded into concern and annoyance and looked at you for help. You just shrugged unsure how to help.

Once you collected all the information on the crime board at the station you helped out Hotch and Rossi at the coroner's office. Then you got the call that there was a third victim. There he burned the woman’s tongue with sulfuric acid. As you, Rossi, JJ, and Reid looked over the body. The quips JJ and Reid were throwing at each other was escalating quickly.

“— instead of dealing with it. He’s acting out,” JJ looked up at Reid as she spoke about the unsub but also meant it for Reid. If looks could inflict pain, the look Reid responded to JJ with would have seriously injured her. Spencer walked off in anger. JJ looked around for help, or maybe back up. You looked at her giving her ‘I’ll take care of it’ look and went after Spencer.

Once you caught up to him and tried to talk to him he wasn’t having it. He quickly dived into perfecting the profile and ignored all conversation about anything else. He was reinforcing the walls he built around himself.

Now back at the station, you all delivered the profile to the police force. Spencer was still not looking at JJ.

Once the profile was delivered Spencer went into the room where the BAU was working out of, JJ following him.

“Spence. Look we gotta talk about this,” JJ insisted.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he responded.

“I get it, okay? You’re disappointed with the way we handled Emily,”

“Listen I have a lot going on alright,”

“You know what I think it is, you’re mad that Hotch and I were able to hold our micro-expressions at the hospital. And you weren’t able to detect our deception,” JJ finally getting angry and defending herself.

“You think it’s about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend,” the tears beginning to well in both of their eyes, “and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“I couldn’t,”

“You couldn’t or you wouldn’t,”

“I couldn’t,” she shouted and defended herself.

“What if I started taking dilaudid again. Would you have let me?” he asked.

“You didn’t,” she answered, confused why he was asking.

“Yeah, but I thought about it,” he confessed, and hurt even more that she didn’t realize how low he actually was during that time.

“Spence,” she called out as he tried to walk away, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late, all right?” He walked away from her.

“Reid,” Emily called for him and looked back at JJ.

You followed Spencer out the door. You knew it was risky to seek him out right now but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to try and help him. You couldn’t explain the pull he had on you right now but you usually followed your instincts and they hadn’t let you down yet.

“Spencer, wait up,” you tried to catch up to his long strides.

“Are you here to tell me off, or ask me to apologize to JJ? Because if so, don’t waste your breath. I’m not going to,” he angrily twirled around to you, which made you stop yourself before running into him.

“I wasn’t — I wasn’t going to say that. I know why you’re mad. And I think the way your acting is justified, maybe a bit immature but it’s justified,” you answered.

Spencer looked confused at your response then angrily he said “why am I acting this way then? Why am I so justified?” He was testing you in some way. If you said the wrong thing he’d yell at you too, and he would build that wall around himself so high no one would ever be allowed in again. He was hurting and right now he felt like hurting others was the only way to feel like he was in control.

“You feel betrayed. You understand why Emily had to fake her death. You understand why no one on the team was allowed to know but you don’t understand why JJ was in on it and how she kept her cool. You don’t understand how she could watch your heart break over the loss of a loved one and stand there with the knowledge to save you from all your grieving. JJ is your best friend, you trust her and love her. And best friends are supposed to help take away the pain, and you feel betrayed and taken advantage of because of that,” you finished. You could tell by the look he gave you that the wall he was building was not prepared for you to hit it so hard it cracked. His face went from openness and feeling seen, to defensive and angry at you not giving him a reason to yell at you. “You want her to understand and feel the pain she caused you. which might be why you are acting out? But when the time comes you’ll forgive her because you know deep down what you need JJ and her friendship and eventually you’ll remember all she did for you. Right now you’re hurting, but the way you get rid of that pain isn’t about being mean or hurting her, you’ll need to remember your love for your friend. And find it in yourself if you can forgive her. Am I right?” You asked him, but you already knew the answer. He let out a sigh and looked down at you. He looked at you for the first time in all his time of knowing you. You understood what he was going through more so than his closest friend, and even more so than some of his teammates who had known him for years. How could he have overlooked you for so long. He quickly looked down at your lips and the tension between you two changed. The breathing between you two became heavy and noticeable. He turned quickly and stormed off.

Eventually you all caught the unsub and saved the young girl. This time on the plane though Spencer sat in the back. He spread his stuff across the table indicating he didn’t want anyone to sit there. You took the hint, and even though you had never been close to Spencer other than him using you today for an emotional defense, you felt a coldness being away from him. A coldness, you didn’t even want to know where it would lead you.

Emily walked back to him after a short time on the plane. You could tell what she was doing and thought it was a good idea. You looked at them and analysed their behaviors. You saw the shift in them as Emily laughed for a second and from the back of Spencer you saw him move in his seat to avoid the subject. Emily leaned in as she began to explain her side of what had happened. Spencer was still mad, but by the way his shoulders sloped he was more tired than angry.

You got dressed up in one of your favorite black dresses with knee high black boots and a fancy long coat. As you pulled into the parking lot, you were a bit self conscious about what you were about to do.

You walked up the steps, found the door you were looking for, and knocked lightly. You heard some shuffling around and then heard the door unlock.

“Hey,” you spoke softly as you took in Spencer standing before you. He quickly looked you up and down and smiled, “what are you doing here? I thought you were helping Rossi teach the others how to cook?” He asked.

“Well I was, but I thought my friend might need me more tonight,” you softly smiled at him. “I was wondering if you wanted to go get something to eat,” you shyly asked, “or if you have plans, we can do something another time,” You looked at his attire and enjoyed the blue sport coat he was wearing, along with the colorful shirt under it. His hair was brushed with a light amount of product in it. It was like he was ready to go out.

“No, I was actually going to go to Rossi’s,” he admitted and you knew what that meant for him. It was more than going to Rossi’s, it was actually forgiving JJ and Emily.

“Well, I can take us, if you want,” you offered as you jingled your keys in front of him.

He gave a soft laugh, and nodded his head as he grabbed his stuff from his apartment.

“I just need to stop somewhere real quick to pick something up,” you added.

When you showed up to Rossi’s you were obviously late. But the smile on everyone’s face as Spencer walked in the room was worth it. You walked behind them with your arms wrapped around Derek and let everyone take in Spencer. You quickly handed Rossi, the cannoli’s you made and brought for desert.

After everyone said hello and got to cheers their wine glasses, it was time to cook. Instead of you cooking, Rossi decided you needed to help supervise. As you reminded everyone what the texture of the pasta had to be, and how the pancetta should look like cooked, you felt yourself always catching Spencer’s eyes and smiling.

“What’s that about?” Emily asked from behind you.

You turned startled by her, “what do you mean?”

“You and Reid, you guys came together and now you won’t keep your eyes off of each other. So what’s going on?” She asked.

You shook your head, “nothing is going on. I just gave Spencer a ride,” you responded.

“Uh-huh,” Emily skeptically looked at you. You rolled your eyes at her. Once you knew Emily wasn’t looking you slipped a glance at Spencer again and saw him smiling and laughing at something Garcia said. You couldn’t help but smile at them.

“I should say thank you,” you heard JJ say behind you.

You turned and looked at him, “why?” You asked a bit confused.

“You brought Spencer here, and he’s talking to me again. I can’t help but think you had something to do with that,” she answered.

“I didn’t do anything. He came to that conclusion on his own,” you responded.

“Well, either way, thank you for being there for him. I know he has a hard time opening up and trusting people,” she whispered. You nodded your head unsure how to respond. Out of everyone on the team you knew JJ and Emily the least as they weren’t on the team when you joined and had just returned.

As the finishing touches were put on everyone’s pasta you took a seat at Rossi’s big dinner table. You were used to sitting next to Garcia and Rossi. You expected the same people to sit near you but Spencer was quick to steal the seat where Garcia usually sat. You looked up at the young doctor standing over you as he placed a bowl of pasta in front of you. His smile told you everything. The weight of his anger had lifted and he felt rejuvenated. You gave him an odd look as he placed his glass of wine in the spot next to you. He just gave you a goofy face back. You ignored it, but you couldn’t help the feeling bubbling in your chest as you over thought him picking the seat next to you instead of next to the others like JJ, Emily or Derek.

You felt bloated after your meal but it didn’t really matter to you because you felt loved. With your Italian heritage, eating and sharing moments like this is where you felt most loved. This was no exception. You loved this BAU family that you were a part of. As the night went on and moved from the dining table to outside in Rossi’s backyard. You crawled into a loveseat couch and Spencer followed and sat next to you. You pulled a blanket off the back of the seat and draped it across you both. Spencer smiled in gratefulness.

“Say Grazie to the wonderful Y/N, for making and bringing the cannoli,” he announced and brought out the delish Italian treat.

“Oh my gosh I love cannoli,” squealed Garcia. Each person grabbed one and a silence fell over the group as they ate their cannoli. You couldn’t help but snuggle into Spencer a bit as the night moved forward and the talking kept going.

Slowly people left. Hotch was one of the first to go as he had to get back to Jack, then Derek and Garcia, next was JJ and Emily, and you and Reid.

The drive back to Spencer’s was filled with music theory facts, as the two of you got on the subject because you played your favorite songs playlist. One by one you each played songs that mean something to you. You enjoyed hearing the songs that made Spencer Reid, Spencer. They were all over the spectrum of music from classical to pop to indie to folk. You two sat in the parking lot for about an hour before you felt yourself yawning often.

“I should go so you can get home,” Spencer noted sadly.

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” you agreed.

“Unfortunately?” His right eyebrow was raised flirtatiously.

You blushed, “yeah, I had a fun night with you.” You looked down in embarrassment.

Spencer moved to place his hand on yours. He hesitated for a second then covered your hand. “I had a fun night too,” he admitted. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Good, because I still owe you a dinner,” you added playfully.

Spencer pulled his lips in and bit them, then let them slide out into a soft smile. “I look forward to it,” he responded.

He waited at the apartment complex entrance for you to pull away.

The memory of tonight would be one you cherished for a long time.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #david rossi #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #derek morgan #criminal minds season 7 fanfics #criminal minds imagines #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #ssa-dg

200 notes · View notes

gb-patch · 4 years

Text

Ask Answers: January 28th, 2021 (Part 2)

Here we’ve got asks that aren’t to ask a question but are just really nice messages. Thank you all for sending us such kind comments ;v;. It’s seriously heartwarming to see so many people having good experiences with the game. I don’t even know what to say to such sweet responses.

We’ll keep doing our best and thank you again to each and every one of you for giving Our Life a chance ❤!

Hello! I've been following this account and have been following the development of 'Our Life' for a few months now, and I just wanted to say thank you for all your hard work and dedication you have put into the game. It astonishes me how much choice you have during the sequence of Our Life and am excited to play the full version now, I am downloading it as I write this message. I've had a great time seeing the demo transition into to the full game and just wanted to write two words. Thank you.

Anhhhhffbgdfbhujk!!! Congratulations on the release, I’m playing the game right now! Thank you all for your hard work and I can’t wait for the Step 3 DLC to come out, I’ll probably wait for the Step 3 DLC to come out to experience everything, but until then, I still have a lot to play. Thank you once again!

finished my first playthrough just now. it just felt so wholesome ??? 100/10 would do it again. i laughed. i cried. i got angry. i felt second-hand embrassment— i got so into it i was left in literal tears after getting my first ending. the art, the storyline, the music, and COVE HOLDEN– UGH IT WAS LITERAL PERFECTION ❤ THE WAIT WAS WORTH IT. THANK YOU FOR MAKING SUCH AN AMAZING GAME 🥺😭 this made my 2020 better, i can't wait for step 4 in 2021 ❤❤

So I was following you guys on itchio for years and uhh did I stay up til 6 am on a school night to finish the game? Yes. Did I sob my eyes out during step 3 as a 20 year old having doubts about life and adulthood? Absolutely. I can't form proper sentences right now due to lack of sleep but just wanted to say thank you for making it. I honestly feel lighter and I feel like it changed my views on future to be more optimistic... I can't wait to replay it! Thanks again!

I love how Our Life turned out!! I keep replaying it and can't stop squeaking and giggling!! Thank You for creating it ♥

okay i have actually fallen in love with cove and cannot WAIT to marry him 😭

Hi! I played through 'Our Life' yesterday and I just wanna say how refreshing it was to be able to have Cove be 'high initiative' and also have so many opportunities to initiate affection from the player character! As a pretty flirtatious/affectionate person myself, I notice that a lot of VNs don't give players that agency, and affection can be kinda 'carrot on a stick' if that makes sense. You guys did an awesome job! I look forward to seeing if there are more of those moments in Step 3 & 4 :)

I have to say I was pleasantly surprised by the option to choose Cove's level of initiative in step 3! As much I love the option to choose I personally enjoy have the romanced character take the lead without my input so when I got to step 3 and had to option to make it so that Cove initiated affection without as much input from me I was really happy! You guys seriously added so much freedom in terms of choices, it's almost baffling that the only thing you have to pay for is optional DLC!

I absolutely loved everything about the game and I really want congratulate the team for making the game such a satisfying experience.

I look forward to step 4

❤️❤️❤️❤️

* and sorry for my bad English

Just finished my first play through and I loved it! I've been looking forward to the game and it definitely was worth the wait. Thank you all for your hard work and can't wait for the extra dlc!

Till then, hope you guys gets some well deserved rest🤗

Love you guys, thank you so much for your hard work. :)

Ok, so I just finished Our Life and, wow. I have never cried at a video game before, ever. Thank you so, so much! Its one of my favorites.

this isn't a question, but i just wanted to say how much i enjoyed our life 🥺 i've been patiently looking forward to the full game for a few months now, and i couldn't be happier with it! i've only played through it once so far but the outcomes of the choices i made were all so soft and wholesome 💗 i can tell that everyone who was involved really worked hard and you all did an incredible job! i can't wait to see what else is in store 👍

i’d just like to say how addictive our life is!!! i constantly played it during quarantine and now playing the full release is so amazing to me!! i love that i’m still discovering dialogue bits with different personalities and actions!!! i have to admit that i’ve been wishing the day to pass faster all day during school so i could go home and play again. mentally i’m not the healthiest and our life being released has boosted it up so much, thank you for creating such an amazing game!!!!!

Hey, I just wanna say I played our life two times and it still give me the same feelings. I was really looking forward to this game before it came out and I kept on replaying the demo. This game is such an amazing experience and I feel so happy playing it. I am not really a person good with words unfortunately but I do honestly love this more than anything in the world. Thank you for making it and I hope that you will continue to make more games like our life. This game really makes me happy and I can't thank you enough

Just wanted to say that Our Life really made me feel seen as an 18 year old trans man who's been struggling with change as of late and I can't thank you guys enough for it. I just finished the main story and currently released DLC's and gosh, I can really only say... woah. Just, woah. The messages are somehow exactly what I needed to hear right now, and they brought me a lot of comfort in this really weird and confusing time in my life. Can't wait to see what comes next in this lovely story <3

I am honestly in love with Our Life. The graphics, the soundtrack its just *chef's kiss* It was so worth the wait for it. I can't wait for step 4. Keep up the good work GB Patch!

good people i have just finished Our Life and let me say, it was beautiful. rarely have such non-fantastical moments (and even some fantastical moments) brought me to tears like this game has, and i don't even have the dlc (yet). i don't know how you did it but it felt like i was playing a slice of life anime. i had waited with baited breath to play this since i played the demo and my expectations were not just met but surpassed. from the bottom of my heart thank you for this game

I found the game by chance and I am so so glad I did. It’s so inclusive and made me feel so incredibly seen. Seeing that my gender identity and sexuality were possible just meant the absolute world to me. I’ve never seen something like this and it just made me so incredibly happy. Thank you for the absolutely amazing game and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

Hello! I downloaded Our life earlier this week and I'm only now getting the chance to play it (Very busy and stressful week) I'm so excited to play and I wanna say thank you for making this adorable game!

I just finished my first playthrough of Our Life and I can't even express how much I love it. Cove is absolutely precious and has killed me several times, and the art and soundtrack is beautiful. I love all the small different choices. I'm very interested in the Derek and Baxter DLCs and the rest, can't wait!!!!!!

thank you for "Our Life Beginnings & Always" it has to be one of the best visual novels i ever have played and i just dont want it to end (i know it will, but damn it! i want to have a wedding night, have children and die of old age with cole! XD) when i play it it always makes me tear up (in a good way) and i am most definetly going to buy all the dlc that you make! thank you for this lovely game and all the work that went into it! (ps: i also loved "lake of voices" )

You guys are incredibly talented and im very proud of you all! You've really outdone yourselves w/ OL and i cant wait to see whats next to come for you all :)

i really love that you can be trans in Our Life! not a lot of games do that so i just wanted to say thank you!

Guuyyss!! I just wanna say! Thank you sm for the headscarf option in the MC creator! I especially loved that little detail where MC quickly slips the headscarf on before greeting Cove, I've never felt so immersed :'D Not that the rest of the game wasn't immersive btw, but since I wear my hijab most of the time that little addition really felt like something I would do! So thank you for that <3

I've been watching "Our Life: Beginnings & Always" development for quite some time, and I gotta say its wild to see it finally release. Its so unique in the way relationships work- even character creation. I've cried multiple times over this game while playing. I can't thank y'all enough for a game with these kind of mechanics, and representation. its rare I get to feel im really playing as myself in games like these. Everyones outdone themselves. this'll certainly be one I keep coming back to.

I've been following the development of Our Life from way back when the first demo dropped and it still blows my mind how many choices and customizations there are (love that update for the MC's bedroom btw!) and the fact that the game remembers them - it really feels like your very own coming of age story! I was so immersed I cried at the end :') Can't believe I experienced this game for free lol. I can't wait for future DLCs and Step 4! Good luck with all your upcoming projects dev team!!

Just wanted to say I love Our Life and I'm thankful it exists. Thank you so much! I love the little world you created and all the people in it. Especially Cove! This game makes me so happy!

Just poping in to say hi and that ilu guys ^^, remember to take care of yourselves!

Hi!! I just wanna thank you for creating such an amazing game. Our Life is one of the few dating sims I’ve found that let’s me be a male mc, it’s really hard to find dating sims that let me be gay. Our Life is my new favorite dating sim to just sit down and playthrough whenever I’m having a bad day so I just wanted to let y’all know how much I appreciate all you’ve done. 🤍

Fan from australia here

Just wanted to reach out and let you know how important this game has been to me. I came across it at a really rough time ( that I’m still going through ) and it’s been one of the things that’s driven me to get up and out of bed sometimes.

This game and cove both hold a very special place in my heart and I can’t wait to see more of him in the DLC and Step 4

Much love ♥️

I know this isnt exactly the main focus of the game, but i really love how we can customise the mc personality wise! This is the first time i've played a game like this where the mc actually does and says exactly what I would do and say in certain situations and its such a breath of fresh air!! It's also so cool how the other characters can pick up on it!!

Cove Holden saved 2020 (my 2020 anyways) I would die for him

Sorry for this being out of the blue, but after playing through Our Life I wanted to thank you for the experience. I don’t know if I’ve ever played a game that has made me cry happy tears TWICE lol. It’s beautiful, scenic, inclusive, and absolutely amazing..have a great rest of 2020 and I honestly cannot wait for the rest of it :,) (ps. The ending song is stuck in my head)

I think you guys might've ruined visual novels for me forever. I'm not sure I'll be able to play another without comparing it to Our Life and I know if I do that I'll be disappointed every time because of how amazing it is. I bought the DLCs before playing the base game it's one of the best impulsive purchases I've ever made

Thank you so much for making our life! It's my favorite visual novel ever and I just can't articulate how much being able to just be honest with my responses instead of going for whatever would make the love interest happy means to me? I reccomended it to evry friend I have that plays visual novels because this is the best one I've ever played!

Just wanted to say that I absolutely adore this game! The childhood friends tropes is my favorite thing and this game delivers! Cove is the sweetest thing, infact all the boys are good boys. Super excited for all upcoming dlcs!

Hi, I just want to thank you for making such an amazing game like Our Life. Tbh, I was following the game’s development for a while, but me and my family moved away from my childhood town just a few days before release, so I really connected to this game. You all did amazing!

hey just wanted to know that i completely loved ol: b&a and it was so good and love cove more than i’ve liked any fictional character, it’s now my comfort media. thank you so much

hi i just wanna say i really enjoyed all of the representation in our life b&a! there were characters with a lot of different body shapes, pic characters, lgbtq+ characters, and you get to choose your own pronouns and sexuality!!! so tysm!!

This isn't a question, I just wanted to say that Our Life is incredible. Ever since I finished it, I've been looking for other visual novels to play so I don't play OL so often that I start memorizing the lines before all the DLC comes out, but I keep coming back to it. It's really one of a kind, I think you all ruined other visual novels for me because I haven't enjoyed another VN like I have this one since I read it ❤.

i think our life b&a is the first game where i felt like cove loved me, not the character i play as which is really nice for someone with kinda low self esteem so THANK YOU

I’ve been playing Our Life practically nonstop since yesterday. I just want everyone who worked on it to know how much the LGBTQ inclusivity means to me. As a closeted trans ace guy in an unsupportive household, I can’t emphasize how much of a comfort this game has been to me. Everything about it is so wholesome and heartfelt. I’m excited to see what other games you make in the future 💙

- A demibiromantic ace transgender man who may or may not have cried over the option to be myself in a game for the first time ever

Csn i just say i really appreciate how you handled MC deciding to use they/them at different stages. Mainly because alot of games don't pay much attention to the body the mc was assigned at birth if they player chooses nonbinary like it does with male/female. And it was just nice to be able to play an mc who just thought gender was kinda 'meh' for them but still felt good about the body they were born with (like myself). I guesd it boils down I'm really appreciative of the hard work it must've taken for you to make all those options possible & still have them matter.

I just wanted to thank you all for Our Life. My mental health hasn't been in a good place recently and it has become my favorite form of escapism/way to cheer up. It's idyllic setting and fantastic characters are such a good way to wind down, I love it. Also, I've been dreading 2021 due to classes starting and general stress, but the DLC and your next project have given me something to actually look forward to :). I'm so excited for them and now I actually have a reason to be happy that it's 2021. Sorry if this message is a bit weird, I just wanted to thank the team for their hard work and for creating something so incredible <3

I've gotta say this is one of the most repayable games I've ever played, if not the most. Usually after i do a playthrough or two of a game i have to wait awhile before playing again otherwise it feels stale. But i haven't had that problem with our life because of the sheer ammount of player agency. Everyone who works on tbe game should feel incredibly proud of themselves because you've created something amazing.

I just wanted to say thank you for Our Life. I'm sure you get this a lot, but it really pulled me out of a mentally tough spot in my life. So thank you.

who needs therapy when you have our life: beginnings and always? haha no but seriously this game is my comfort game, and even though i can’t join your patreon at the moment please know i am always supporting you and i am so excited to see everything you have in store! everyone who works on the games is so so talented

All DLCs have nice content. 😡😡

And I love them all!!💗💗💗💖💖💖💕💕💕

#our life #Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #ask #gb patch #gb patch games

121 notes · View notes

averyonelovesjack · 4 years

Text

learning to raise a baby ~ daniel seavey

requested: yes:)

Can you please do an cute imagine about y/n and Daniel having a baby together and taking care of the baby and figuring the parenting stuff out together. Ur amazing

summary: follow a few different events in the life of daniel and y/n learning to raise a baby.

warning(s): baby, literally too lazy to edit this i’ll come back later lmao

word count: 2608

author’s note: i have such baby fever omg

disclaimer: i def need to clarify that i am 18 years old and do not have a baby and i have no close friends with babies (in person, at least) therefore this is purely fiction. i watch a LOT (i mean A LOT) of family vloggers and like teen mom accounts raising their kids, so basically all of my knowledge comes from that. i hope no one takes offence to my depiction of it, but my intention is purely just to write this cute fic idea, and i don’t want to pretend like i know anything about parenting or raising a child or anything like that!! okay that’s all!!

I could barely see my feet as I painfully took in another breath of air and started walking forward. Awoken at 3am with terrible back pain and a pool of amniotic fluid at my waist, Daniel and I now rushed to grab our hospital bag and make our way to the labor and delivery section of our nearest hospital.

everything went so fast. before i was actively having a child, it felt like my pregnancy would never end, but now that it’s actually happening and i’m having a child, it felt like pregnancy flew by.

just a few days ago, i was sitting on the countertop in my bathroom, impatiently waiting to see if i was pregnant or not in hopes that daniel wouldn’t get home from the studio early and find me. i had just given daniel the surprise of his lifetime when i woke him up at four am to tell him i was pregnant because i just couldn’t keep it from him anymore to do a fun reveal. i remember how we both cried, too excited to even go back to sleep.

just a few days ago, daniel and i were sitting in my obstetrician’s office as we got to hear our eight week old fetus’ heartbeat for the first time. we both cried. it feels like just a day or two ago we cut into a pink colored cake and found out that our precious baby girl would be coming. all of the breakdowns about what stroller to buy and which crib matches the nursey best felt like just moments ago. and now, all of a sudden, i’m ten hours into labor and i’m ready to push.

pushing was painful, but the thought of holding a sweet babygirl soon just kept me going. daniel squeezed my hand tight, standing by the end of the bed watching our beautiful daughter make her way into the world.

i gave the final push and soon i heard a cry that made everything in the whole world worth it. they say you never truly understand love until you’ve had a child, and as soon as i held our daughter, i felt an overwhelming sense of truth in that statement. i never knew such a distinct moment could be the greatest day of my life, but as soon as i laid my eyes on her, i knew that i would never get a day greater than this one.

our daughter laid on my chest for a while as daniel sat by my head, holding both my hand and hers. eventually, the nurses cleaned her off a bit and wrapped her tightly in a swaddle for daniel to finally hold his daughter. i watched the tears fall from his bluer than ever eyes that never left her little face. by the way she settled in his arms and fell asleep, i knew i was going to have a daddy’s little girl on our hands.

it felt like forever, just watching daniel and our baby getting to know each other. soon enough, though, the doctors finished with the stitches and i heard a knock at the door.

within seconds, both of our parents came into the room, bearing wide smiles. daniel sat in the seat next to me, both of us staring at the beautiful baby in front of us.

“does she have a name?” keri asks, slowly walking up to the two of us, careful not to be too loud.

daniel and i look at each other, and then i give him the nod to tell everyone. “callista avery mae seavey.”

“our little baby callie.” i smile at the name. daniel and i both loved the name callie, but wanted it to be a nickname. avery was after his bandmate who really helped us through this whole preparing to be parents thing. mae was a pretty nickname from my side of the family that was good to separate avery and seavey. our little callie mae.

***

it was three am and both of us were awake to callie’s loud screaming. turns out that daniel and i had a very colicky daughter who, when awake, wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. daniel was in the nursery trying to grab more diapers and wipes that, out of exhaustion, we forgot to restock last night when we ran out. i held callie in our arms, rocking her gently and trying to get her to go back to sleep.

“does she have a dirty diaper?” daniel asks, placing the diapers in the corner of our messy bedroom. a few days into callie’s life, we realized we should’ve left the changing table in our bedroom until she was ready to sleep in the nursey, but both of us were too tired to even think about moving the furniture around. so for now the corner of the room was storage and a changing pad on the bench was our late night changing table.

“i don’t think so.” i answer, giving him an exhausted look. “her diaper isn’t heavy and i tried to feed her, but she doesn’t seem to be hungry. i think she just woke up and is being colicky again.”

“how long did the doctor say the colic will last?” daniel asks.

“she didn’t.” i sigh, going to take a seat on our bed as i continued to calm callie. daniel sat beside me. “go back to sleep, i got her.”

“no, i know you’ve been awake all night. try to go to sleep, i’ve got her.” daniel says, and then takes callie from me. “did you take melatonin tonight?”

“yeah.” i say. “i know your body goes through a lot of changes postpartum, but i’m really not liking the insomnia.”

“okay, well, you lay down, and i’m gonna sing to you both, okay?” daniel says and then starts to rock callie to sleep as i laid beside them. and then he started to sing softly.

***

callie was born a little over three months ago and daniel and i haven’t had a date night since then. when we fearfully realized that last week, jack and anna were both quick to offer some help. we hadn’t felt comfortable leaving callie yet, especially since she wasn’t always the easiest. we had lots of help and people offering, but neither daniel nor i were good at asking for help. that’s definitely something we’re both still working on, especially now that we have a baby.

finally though, jack and anna convinced us. originally, we were going to leave them with daniel’s parents, but anna and jack were pretty convincing. jack had lots of experience since he himself is a dad, and anna was very close with gabbie when she had lavender. jack also decided to invite zach for some more company, which was cute.

daniel and i had a hard time saying goodbye to callie, even though we really were only going to be out for two hours at most. we knew neither of us could stay away for that long.

the restaurant wasn’t too far from the house, which was nice because it cut down on our time away from callie. i think both of us were a little nervous to leave her. we both know that she’s three months old and other people are more than capable of watching her for a few hours, but it’s still hard to not be worried about all of the things we could be missing out on.

“oh my gosh, anna just sent a picture of callie.” daniel says in the middle of our dinner, holding up his phone to show up me the picture of our daughter in the adorable pajamas her aunt bought.

“i miss her.” i admit, knowing he was feeling similarly. “do you think they had a hard time getting her to sleep? i hope she’ll be good for them tonight.”

“i’m sure she was fine.” daniel says, then later . “you know, maybe we should skip dessert. relieve them a little early.”

“she’s growing up so fast.” i tell him. “i’m not ready for her to keep growing.”

“we’re gonna blink and she’s gonna be cursing us out because we wouldn’t let her go out with her friends.” daniel continues. “not that we would do that, because honestly, i’ve always thought we’d be a little cooler than that.”

i laugh at his comment. “oh, we’ll definitely be cooler than that. we’re not gonna be the lame strict parents that doesn’t let their kids go out with their friends.”

“oh definitely.” daniel agrees. “except i will be strict about doors open if someone is over. i don’t care who she’s in her room with, but that door better be open. i am taking no chances.”

“i feel like that’s fair.” i add. “i know we’re parents, but wow, until i think about that future, i kind of forget.”

“i’m very glad that’s a long ways away.” he comments. “i’m barely ready for her to be three months old, we do not need to get ahead of ourselves. take this parenting thing one step at a time.”

“i could not agree more.” i smile, leaning over the table to kiss daniel’s lips gently.

***

i walked out of my one year old’s nursery with her in my arms. we watched as daniel and anna hung balloons up around our california apartment. it’s just about an hour before callie’s first birthday party, and now more than ever, i could not be more grateful for daniel’s family’s offer to help us set up.

rather than fighting with figuring out food for the party, we decided to get it catered. christian and tyler offered to go pick up the food at the restaurant for us, which was extremely helpful. his parents were setting up some decorations around the front of the apartment.

i had just put callie in her adorable dress that i specifically picked out for this party. we weren’t the type to throw parties, so we weren’t 100% sure what to do or what to expect, but we decided to just stick to family and close friends. callie was too young for us to strictly invite her friends over. at this stage in her life, her friends were whoever was at mommy&me that week.

the party was going to be small. daniel’s family, my family, daniel’s bandmates and close friends, and then my close friends.

thankfully, we finished decorating and setting up with about thirty minutes left to spare before the party. rather than worry, i decided to just sit on the couch with anna and daniel. keri took callie from me, wanting to spend some time with her granddaughter, and giving daniel and i a brief break before the party started.

“i cannot believe she’s a year old.” anna exclaims to me. “you guys have been parents for a year. that’s crazy to think about.”

“it’s definitely a little bit weird.” i giggle in response.

“you guys make it look so easy, being young parents.” anna says. “i know i’m younger than you guys, but still, i cannot imagine having a kid anytime soon.”

“i didn’t think i would either.” i tell anna. “for me, i wasn’t really ready until i met dani. i realized that i was ready because i wanted to do this with him. it’s different for everyone, i’m sure, but at least personally, that’s how i knew we could be parents.”

daniel wraps his arm around me on the couch, kissing my cheek softly. “yeah, it’s the same for me. when you find someone you want to do everything with, it gets easier to imagine yourself parenting together.”

“that is really cute.” anna says. “this is what i mean, when i say you make it look easy!!”

“it’s definitely not easy.” i laugh. “but it’s a little bit easier when you work as a team. we talk things through and decide together, instead of just making decisions separately. it’s a lot easier to feel like you’re making the right decision when you talk things through.”

“and that is all the parenting advice you get, because while i am most definitely ready to be a dad, i am not ready to be an uncle.” daniel says, getting protective over his younger sister.

“being an uncle is way easier than being a dad.” anna laughs. “but trust me, i’m not having kids any time soon. at least not intentionally.”

“well, i have to be the cool uncle. someone’s gotta bail the kid out of jail and hide it from you.” daniel jokes.

“first of all, why would my kid go to jail??” anna asks. “and second of all, you might’ve been first in the race for cool uncle before callie arrived, but since becoming a dad, you’ve fallen behind. the cool uncle can’t have kids, that’s not how that works.”

“well i’ll break that standard, because i’ll be the cool uncle.”

“i just want to be the aunt that gives good advice at one o’clock in the morning.” i tell them. “someone’s gotta do it. i expect that for callie, anna, so i will do that for your kids.”

“oh, of course. nothing but the best for callie. and future kids.” anna agrees. “speaking of, future kids? any thoughts on that? mom wants me to scope that out.”

“eventually.” i smile. “sooner rather than later.”

***

daniel took callie on a walk. he’s been really adamant about spending at least thirty minutes a day on a walk with her. now that she’s getting a lot more balance and ability to take a lot more steps, he loves taking her to the playground a few blocks from our apartment. usually, i like to go with them, but today i made up an excuse about things i had to get done at home.

i felt especially grateful for that routine of his today, because i needed a few minutes to myself. i’ve been feeling particularly nauseated recently, and as soon as i woke up the other day, i could feel that i was pregnant again. in the past, i had always thought that when i was paranoid about being late, but now that i’ve actually experienced pregnancy, i can feel that there’s a little fetus inside of me.

daniel and i haven’t exactly been trying, but we haven’t been taking as many precautions as we were when callie was first born. now that she’s over a year old, we feel better about having another baby. we weren’t too rushed, because we lot spending time with just our little girl, but we didn’t want to wait too long and have her grow up without a sibling. having a sibling was always a priority of daniel and i’s. seeing as we both grew up with siblings, we know how important it is to have a sibling.

my stomach fluttered with butterflies as i followed the instructions on the pregnancy test. after realizing i was pregnant with callie, i had bought a ton of tests that i didn’t end up using because it was so obvious that i was indeed pregnant. that was extremely helpful for right now when i don’t have time to go sit in traffic for thirty minutes just to go to the pharmacy.

i sat on top of the counter, leaving the pregnancy test face down while i tried to scroll through tiktok and distract myself. it was probably the slowest five minutes of my life, other than finding out about callie.

the timer went off on my phone. i take a deep breath and carefully lift the pregnancy test off the marble bathroom counter.

pregnant.

149 notes · View notes

gem-rewatch · 4 years

Text

SU rewatch- S1E11- Arcade Mania

Hey, long time no see!

I’m desperately bored in solitary quarantine at university right now, and decided to try and pick this SU rewatch series up again for fun. It’s been a while since I’ve watched through the show in order. Plus, now that this show is completely finished, there’s plenty more connections to make. I can’t promise I’ll be consistent with this, but at the very least I can have fun trying to make a few more posts at my leisure.

Anyways. With that business out of the way. Let’s get right on to the show!

We begin with yet another mission Steven’s guardians have brought him along on! I believe this is the fifth mission we know of that he’s accompanied them on so far. (Lunar Sea Spire, Inverted Pyramid, the unknown mission he returns from in Tiger Millionaire, the desert, and now this one.) It’s really sweet seeing the Gems begin to trust him tagging along more often. There will come a day in the near future where missions become routine for Steven, but in these early episodes, you can really tell that each and every one is a brand new adventure.

In terms of plot, though, this episode is honestly Future Vision: The Prequel.

We learn a lot about Garnet’s abilities and her role in the team here, even if all of these details aren’t spelled out word-for-word quite yet. Hints towards her future vision we see this ep include:

Garnet moving ahead of the group to be in the perfect spot to catch Steven when he falls.

Her flawless moves while fighting and dodging the monsters.

Her becoming a master at the rhythm game later in the episode.

Like, damn. Look at this.

Look at her go.

My Q U E E N!

I had to gif all of this just because it’s such a beautiful and smooth sequence of animation.

If there’s one thing all of the Crystal Gems can 100% agree on, it’s that Garnet is friggin’ amazing.

Garnet: “Let them go. They’re just parasites. If they want to be a problem, they’ll have to answer to me.”

So, does this statement mean that- at this present moment- her extended stay at the arcade was entirely beyond her future vision? That the only futures she saw were ones where she was actually present to deal with containment of the Gem parasites? Given that later scenes insinuate she’d never been to the arcade before, and would have no “data” about its games to factor into her internal understanding of the world, this seems likely.

I adore the gradual palette change here, from shadow, to setting sun. It’s a nice detail that adds so much more life to what could otherwise be a rather mundane transition scene. It seems like unique palettes were more common in early SU- I wonder why Crewniverse stopped implementing these as often later on?

Pearl, entering the arcade: “Humans find such fascinating ways to waste their time.”

Thanks, Pearl. Love you too. <3

This sequence of Pearl failing at playing a car chase/road rage game hits so much different knowing what happens in Last One Out of Beach City. It’s genuinely radical how far she grows in confidence from this point, because here, she seems so shackled to rules and guidelines. Now that we know about her rebellious past, it might be tempting to write this characterization off as “early series weirdness,” but... I don’t think that’s what’s happening here.

Instead, I wonder if she’s working through grief-related regression.

Think about it... the pain of Rose’s passing is still so fresh for her. She was a rule breaking rebel once, yes, but she spent all of those days at Rose’s side. And I get the sense that she’s poured so much of herself into keeping Rose safe, into the rebellion against Homeworld, that without those, she’s caught in a vacuum. What IS her purpose now, when the very person she rebelled for is gone?

So she slips back into old pearl-like habits. Chronic rule following, and a fear of deviating from norms. How familiar. Thankfully, much of her arc throughout the show is her directly growing beyond these habits to live boldly as her own Gem.

The friggin video game when Garnet knocks its head off: “TELL MY WIFE I’M SORRYYY!!!”

Yo, what the fuck. This line is both hilarious and messed up, all at once. Please tell me the game isn’t sentient.

Aaaand here we finally introduce Garnet to the video game sensation that is Meat Beat Mania! This game is perfectly suited to her and her power of foresight because its patterns are algorithmic and not vulnerable to spontaneous deviations, and thus easy to predict, with enough input. She’s probably getting a quick rush of satisfaction with every correct move, and she barely has to exert any energy with her future vision to get that rush. After years and years of wading through endless possibility at every avenue, this video game’s patterns must be a rejuvenating breath of fresh air.

It’s addicting.

...Kinda makes me think of how I get sometimes when I play solitaire on my phone for an hour straight. After a while, I barely even think, I’m just shuffling through my deck and moving cards almost on automatic. I don’t have to use much energy to play, and it gives me animated fireworks every time I finish a match. It’s a win-win.

Amethyst: “I’MMA WIN AN AIRPLANE!”

I don’t know what it is about the way Michaela Dietz says the world “airplane,” but this makes me laugh every time. Does... does she think she can win a genuine airplane here because she saw Onion win a tiny motorbike from the ticket booth?? Amethyst, oh my god. XD

She’s got the spirit, this wild child.

So, moving on- we meet up with our crew later the next morning, Garnet nowhere to be seen. There’s an interesting exchange I’d like to highlight real quick-

Pearl: “If we’re supposed to fight a giant foot, Garnet would let us know.” Amethyst: “Yeah, Garnet’s the boss!” Pearl: “Well, we’re all a team. Garnet just has heightened perception that guides us towards our mission objectives.”

Considering the specific phrasing Pearl uses here- “heightened perception” instead of “future vision-” did Garnet outright tell the two of them to not explain her powers, just like she told them not to mention she’s a fusion? Because I’m pretty sure no one ever uses the phrase “heightened perception” again in reference to her powers.

Given the fact that Garnet chose to keep the knowledge of Ruby and Sapphire under the table until she felt Steven could understand her better, my guess is that this is a similar scenario.

Ahah, I genuinely can’t tell if this is Steven being gullible, or just impulsively playing along with Amethyst’s antics. Still- gross, kid. Don’t wipe your wet cereal face on your shirt! Ew! :O

When he goes outside and starts to use a kiddy metal detector to scan for quarters... so THAT’S where he finds his arcade money! Because I can’t imagine Greg is financially able to give him that much to spend on non-essentials at this point in the show.

Okay, so... I just want to bring light to the fact that Garnet has literally been in this arcade ALL NIGHT LONG.

It was evening when she first arrived here- the sun was visibly setting in the background, and when Steven, Amethyst, and Pearl left, the sky was dark. But now it’s morning. Steven was just seen eating breakfast. And Garnet is STILL HERE.

Does this mean Mr. Smiley locked her IN? I have so many questions... Did he try to get her to leave, only to be intimidated by her complete lack of response? I would kill to know more about this interaction. Poor Mr. Smiley. That man deals with so much bullshit in this town, huh?

Geebus, is Garnet a solid wall. Previous episodes have shown Steven forcibly shoving whole tons of food, and swinging a mini-freezer over his head, and yet he can’t get her to budge even an inch.

I absolutely adore how he climbs up her frame like a koala, though, ahah. Cute.

Meat Beat Mania announcer: “That’s rare!!” Steven: “Oh my gosh...!”

I take these two lines as evidence that this is the first time Steven’s ever seen Garnet’s eyes. Specifically, the fact that there’s three of them. Which, makes sense- since Garnet is still really reserved emotionally at this point, and is only begins to get in the habit of taking her visor off to show Steven her full face later on in the show.

This expression deeply hurts me.

Steven’s so distraught here- because the others are in danger, the town is in danger, and he doesn’t have his trusty, dependable guardian who catches him when he falls and beats up scary monsters for him. Without her, the whole team is vulnerable and blind.

He feels alone. He feels... powerless.

And so he responds to that confusing, powerless feeling by trying to compensate with his own power. When all other routes he can think of fail, he smashes the video game console.

It... uh, it works... but once again, Steven entirely fails to consider the consequences, huh? He experienced a little bit of character growth in this regard in the episode Serious Steven, but even past that it’ll remain an recurring issue for him. Hell, his impulsiveness is a general character flaw even stretching into SUF.

In summary, though:

Poor Mr. Smiley. He works so hard, and doesn’t deserve this BS. ;-;

#su #su meta #steven universe #arcade mania #garnet #amethyst #pearl #mr. smiley #jen rewatches su

121 notes · View notes

kitkat1003 · 4 years

Text

Where the Sea Meets Earth

Ao3 Link

Summary:

Tang's life has fallen into a steady, comfortable routine, one he feels no need to change.

So he doesn’t.

Until he has to.

Note: Hi! Lowkey used an idea from @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off when it came to Pigsy's rival. They make great content, give them a look! As always, shout out to my beta reader, @imnotcameraready, the most kind and patient editor out there. She edited this all in one night, the mad lad. Send love her way!! She goes by UncrownedKing on Ao3, check out her stuff! Anyway, have fun!

Tang’s routine is simple. Get up, watch Pigsy make breakfast. Steal an egg or two that Pigsy definitely didn’t make in preparation for such thievery. Follow Pigsy around as the noodle shop is set up for the morning. Listen to the hiss of oil in a hot wok, water bubbling in a tall pot, knife against the wooden cutting board, each slice precise with practice.

Admire the way Pigsy’s arms bulge with muscle as he lifts heavy boxes of spices, meat and vegetables. Watch the sweat on his brow build up as he tosses the ingredients in the wok, stirs the broth, sticks a pinkie in before pulling it out to taste the concoction, tilting his head to the side in thought every time before reaching for a different spice—

Chuckle when MK scrambles down the stairs, a second before being late. Wave back when MK greets him enthusiastically. Listen to Pigsy bark orders. Watch MK vanish out the store door, listen to the sound of the delivery cart starting up. Wait for the customers to come in.

Sometimes, between the breakfast and lunch rush, he will vanish into the town. He’ll peruse the shelves of a bookstore, maybe get a book or two. Then, he’ll come back to the restaurant and watch Pigsy work until closing, with the occasional interruption from MK or Mei. Pigsy will make dinner, and they’ll eat while watching TV before ending the night, asleep next to each other.

It’s a steady routine, one Tang feels no need to change.

So he doesn’t.

Routines are brought on by repeated motions and consistent action. He finds himself considering them more and more, these days. Tang follows the lines back, through time, to trace where each routine began, as Pigsy yells at MK to get going.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He lives off a trust fund from his late parents, as well as a few checks from his work in historic preservation. His family has passed down the stories of old for years, and he knows them well and by heart, because at 18 his memories had come flooding in, and suddenly he was older than time itself and yet just old enough to have sake enough that creating books and speaking on historical inaccuracies is easy to turn into a living.

A few years ago, he gave it up because it hadn’t seemed important to bother anymore after his parents died. The next year he’d wasted time coasting through town after town, sharing random tales for a meal, trying to forget that he was alone, until….

Two years ago, he watched Pigsy throw a customer out of his shop, threatening the unruly guest within an inch of his life, and thought Well then. Something interesting.

Tang had actually gone to the rival noodle shop first. It seemed a bit more inviting. Pigsy, for all his culinary achievements, is still very closed off, and his shop certainly reflects that. Sometimes, Tang wonders if Pigsy would get more customers if he’d change his attitude, but he never brings it up, because what would Pigsy’s Noodles be without Pigsy?

He watches from afar a few days, until the Pigsy’s rival shop owner not so subtly nudges him over, and the moment he walks in, he’s knocked to the ground by a very exuberant noodle delivery boy.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry—are you alright?” Tang sits himself upright to the sound of frantic apologies, seeing a kid no older than 18 fretting over him as if he’d been stabbed instead of simply knocked over.

“It’s fine,” he starts, a little annoyed but not rude enough to make the boy more panicked than he already looks to be.

“MK, what did you do?!” Comes the familiar gruff voice from the kitchen, and the boy—MK, Tang has gathered—helps him stand as the chef walks out of the kitchen, hands on his hips.

“I didn’t notice him coming in—I just knocked into him—it was an accident!” Tang worries, then, because MK seems scared, but those worries are swept away when the chef takes a deep breath and slowly, his stance relaxes.

“It’s fine, kid, just get those deliveries out, ‘kay?” his voice is so gentle, Tang remembers now he was taken aback. Now it feels so natural for Pigsy’s voice to be gentle. “I’ll take care of this.”

MK nods to that, jittery and anxious, and walks out with a forced slowness that Tang can tell is from worry and guilt. Once he’s left, Tang turns back to Pigsy, who lets out a breath and mutters something about how ‘this kid is gonna be the death of me’ before looking up at Tang with what Tang later learned is his customer service expression.

“Alright, c’mon in. Welcome to Pigsy’s Noodles, home of the longest noodles.”

At that, Tang has to snort. He saunters over to the barstools and sits as Pigsy goes back behind the counter, into the kitchen.

“I don’t know if long is the metric you want to brag about,” he snarks, settling easily.

Pigsy grunts in reply, already back to cooking.

Two minutes later, Tang gets a bowl of noodles placed in front of him.

“On the house,” Pigsy grouches, before Tang even thinks to reach into his coin purse. “For the trouble.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very sound business practice,” Tang laughs, taking a sip of the broth after it cools a little.

It was the best he had ever tasted.

“Don’t get any ideas about it.” Pigsy fidgets with his chef’s hat, face settling into a scowl, and yet Tang can tell it was all bluster with no substance.

He pulls a pair of chopsticks out of the free container, snaps them apart, and eats as customers flit in and out of the shop.

Despite the fact that he never stays in one place for too long, Tang finds himself sticking around more than just a few weeks, trailing through the streets and eventually finding himself back at the noodle shop. The noodles are delicious, cheap, and he finds the company of the chef a comfortable one.

Things get far more interesting when the delivery boy, MK, comes down late and gets an earful for it.

“Sorry—I stayed up late drawing the autobiography of Monkey King and I missed my alarm!” MK bows in apology, frantic, and Pigsy runs a hand over his face, pointing MK to a dirty table to clean.

MK gets to work quickly, but Tang turns to him with a curious expression.

“You like Monkey King?” he asks, and he hears Pigsy groan from the kitchen.

“Here we go,” Pigsy mutters, but he does nothing to stop MK from turning to face Tang with a wide, blinding smile on his face.

“Do I! He’s so cool, and strong, and handsome, and interesting! I’ve watched the animated series like, fifteen times!” he rushes up to Tang, pushing a very worn, bound together book.

Tang flips through it, more out of politeness than anything else, and finds himself pleasantly surprised by the intricacy of the sketches, the love poured into pages, notes on the stories themselves scrawled out next to the drawings.

“This is...surprisingly accurate,” He glances over at MK, who preens at the praise.

“Thanks! I’ve been drawing these, since, like, forever! It’s going to be Monkey King’s autobiography. Uh, unofficially, anyway,” MK rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s always nice to see the younger generation so interested in history,” Tang grins with pride as he adds, “You know, I know essentially every Monkey King story. I even wrote an academic paper on them. Published.”

He watches MK’s excitement grow. “Really?! Oh my gosh, that’s so cool! Can you tell me one? Pretty please?!” He’s bouncing on his toes, and Tang can’t help but chuckle.

“I could tell you a tale or two,” he starts, watching as the shine in MK’s eyes grow. “But I need something in return. A bowl of noodles, perhaps?”

MK’s smile drops, and he fidgets.

“I don’t know if I have the money…” he mumbles, mostly to himself, and then he turns to Pigsy, a question in his eyes.

“No,” Pigsy says, immediately.

Tang has never seen someone use puppy dog eyes like a weapon before, but MK pulls them off like a pro.

MK’s hands are clasped together. “Please?”

“I got bills to pay, kid! I can’t be giving free meals to strangers!”

“Well, I’m hardly a stranger,” Tang teases, smile widening when Pigsy reddens. “We met yesterday, remember~?”

“Shut yer yap,” Pigsy grinds out, but Tang has seen Pigsy far angrier, from his reconnaissance days at the shop across the street, so he isn’t worried.

Pigsy turns back to MK, mouth clearly open to rebuff the kid, but MK’s puppy dog eyes have been turned up past 100%. Tang watches as Pigsy crumbles beneath their gaze.

“Fine,” he grits it out between clenched teeth. “But this is a one time thing! I don’t have time for freeloaders around here. And not now! I got ten orders to make, that you have to take out,” he points to MK, who is nodding his head so quickly his face becomes a blur.

“Okay! So, in like an hour, okay Mr.Tang?” he turns to Tang, who grins, calm as ever.

“I’ll be here,” he responds, voice even, and MK busies himself with cleaning up the tables before Pigsy hands him the orders.

When MK disappears, Pigsy sighs.

“You know, pretty sure it’s rude to use kids to get free food,” he says, and Tang can only chuckle again.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I’ve used my knowledge to score many a meal before, this is no different. You’d be surprised what people will give for an interesting story.”

Pigsy snorts, at that, and rolls his eyes.“You a good storyteller, at least?” he asks, and Tang puffs out his chest proudly.

“The best.” After all, his papers got him a pretty good amount of wealth, so he’d hope he’s good enough to earn that.

Pigsy turns back to his prep work, shaking his head, but Tang sees the barest hint of a smile, before Pigsy turns away.

Despite protests from Pigsy, Tang comes back the next day with another story and receives the same free bowl of noodles. He doesn’t get noodles every day, not stupid enough to think that Pigsy could afford to give him one daily, but he appears at the noodle shop every day regardless, if only to watch the hustle and bustle of the place, watch Pigsy work.

Pigsy works with practiced motions, not a single measuring cup or spoon appearing in his hand. Pinches, handfuls of colorful spices thrown in with fresh vegetables. Tang watches him string out the noodles from fresh made dough, dropping them in the broth, stirring, always test tasting, constantly adding something else, another pinch of spice, until he’s only somewhat satisfied.

It’s a familiar feeling. The need to constantly make better, the chase for perfection. Is it any wonder, then, that Pigsy’s shop thrives? Customers learn that deliveries are often better than eating in, because Pigsy’s attitude is abrasive and he’s loud in the kitchen. Regardless, he runs a big enough business and makes good money, enough to keep MK as an employee despite MK’s many missteps.

Tang learns, through snippets of conversations, that MK lives upstairs. Pigsy gave him the job and the room. MK doesn’t talk of his parents, or any of his family really, but he has a friend, Mei.

Mei is as loud as MK is, and she’s familiar in the same way Pigsy. These people he meets at the noodle shop who come for company just like he does, lives slotting into each other with ease. Talking to them is like picking up a conversation left off a thousand years ago, stumbling only for a second before falling into the familiar groove.

Tang slowly learns the group dynamic, learns that MK’s parents haven’t spoken to him since he was kicked out, that Mei stays as far away from her home as she can for as long as possible, that Pigsy has nothing to his name besides his shop and himself.

Sees the family, the foundation, centered around the little hole in the wall restaurant, and keeps himself rooted, just for a little while.

The shop is closed every third Sunday of the month. That is the only day that it is consistently closed. Pigsy works seven days a week, twelve hours a day, without fail, except for that third Sunday. Tang forgets, one month, and catches Pigsy heading out in the early morning.

“What, forgot you can’t steal food today?” Pigsy greets him with a frown that softens into something like a smile.

“Maybe I don’t come for the food,” is Tang’s snappy reply, and he watches with satisfaction as Pigsy pauses, thinks, and then turns a dusty rose color.

Turns out, Pigsy’s ears blush with his cheeks. “Anyway, going on a walk? I might join you,” he turns.

Pigsy stares at him, as if he can’t tell if Tang is serious or not, before he sticks his hands in his pockets and starts walking. “I’m going shopping. Don’t get in my way,” is the response, and Tang takes it for the acceptance of the company that it is, and catches up to Pigsy with ease, stepping in time with him.

The perks of having long legs.

Tang watches as Pigsy charges his way into the market, eyes sharp for the best ingredients, the ripest vegetables—or, the vegetables soon to be ripe, to save for the later weeks. He gets a practiced amount for every ingredient that goes into his food.

“Have to get the meat weekly, but the produce can last if I make it,” Pigsy explains, and Tang nods.

“That makes sense. I never notice a drop in quality, regardless of the week,” he comments.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure anything tastes great to a freeloader,” he grumbles.

“I’ll have you know I have a refined palette,” Tang huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pigsy laughs then, raucous and loud, a sound Tang has never heard from him before. His heart pitter-patters quickly in his chest, and he thanks everything that his scarf hides his face and that Pigsy is short enough to not be able to spot his blush.

“Okay, wise guy,” Pigsy’s voice draws him back in. “You ever cooked yourself a meal before, then?” He elbows Tang gently, or as gentle as Pigsy is able to be, and Tang stumbles a bit before replying.

“Well…,” his voice alludes to the obvious answer, and Pigsy laughs at him all over again.

Tang decides he likes the sound.

A few months after Tang has cemented his spot at the noodle bar, Pigsy goes to usher him out of the shop one evening as he closes for the night and stops, right before heading up the stairs. He turns to Tang with an unplacable look.

“Where are you even staying?” Pigsy asks. “Not a resident, I think I’d’ve noticed a newcomer that was moving in.”

Tang shrugs at the thought. “Wherever.”

Typically, he’ll head out to a busy bar and ingratiate himself to someone, convince them to let him join their party, and sleep on a random couch. He’s always gone before anyone wakes up, to be sure he misses the questions that would come from the house’s inhabitants. If he can’t manage that, well, he’s not above sleeping on a bench somewhere. It isn’t cold out yet, so he doesn’t worry about it.

Tang very well could get an apartment, with the amount of money he has saved. He could, but then he’d be trapped.

He’d have to say that he’s settling down, that a place is going to become home. And no place has really been home, not since his parents died and he walked through empty hallways and empty rooms that once meant something and now meant nothing to anyone besides himself. He’d sold the house, stored the memories away, burned the rest and ran before the smoke cleared.

How could he stay, when there was nothing left? He’d settled in for the long hall, cemented himself as something soft like the earth, and then it had been ripped away from him like roots, tearing up the soil and leaving a mess in its wake.

So he became stone, and left without a word.

Pigsy stares at him, something almost like concern on his face. Tang watches Pigsy’s eyes glance up towards the stairs, and then back to him. Deliberating. Tang tilts his head to the side, ever curious about the concern. He knows Pigsy cares, and he knows Pigsy, beyond the gruff exterior, is pretty soft, but he’s surprised by this development. He didn’t think that care would be extended to, in Pigsy’s words, a freeloader.

Then, Pigsy sighs.

“I’ve got a couch, if you’re interested,” he says, and Tang

Tang just follows Pigsy up to his apartment. There’s a hallway at the top of the stairs, a door they pass by that Tang can hear pop music playing in.

“MK’s place,” Pigsy says, before Tang can ever ask the question.

They reach Pigsy’s apartment door, at the end of the hall, and head in.

It’s a cluttered space. Well, everything save for the kitchen is cluttered. The kitchen is pristine, so much so that the rest of the apartment pales in comparison. It’s not dirty, there’s no trash or dishes left out, but there are just random items, magazines, cookbooks strewn about the rest of the living space.

“Sorry about the mess.” Pigsy says as he pulls off his chef’s hat and coat, hanging it up by the door. He takes off his dress shoes, and pulls out a pair of slippers from a bin, putting them to walk on the carpet. He glances back at Tang expectantly. Tang pulls off his scarf and hangs it up.

“It’s no problem. I wasn’t an expected guest, I’m guessing?”

Tang takes off his shoes and pulls a pair of slippers from the bin. He isn’t surprised by the kitchen being clean, but he is a bit confused by the clutter. Pigsy takes care to keep his work space pristine, scrubbing it to sparking at the end of each work day. Perhaps this is a product of that, and Pigsy just is too tired to care as much in a space that is more his than it is his profession.

Somehow, that makes Tang concerned. He can’t pinpoint why.

Pigsy pulls off the random items from the couch, throwing them aside but scattering them further. He grunts in response to the rhetorical question.

“I’m gonna get a pillow and blanket. Don’t break anything.” Pigsy trudges off, and Tang looks at the clutter, and then at the perfectly good, half empty bookshelf.

By the time Pigsy gets back, Tang is sliding the last book onto the shelf. There’s still the other items that are less easy to categorize, but Tang would be remiss if he left perfectly good reading material to collect dust on the floor.

Pigsy opens his mouth to say something, and then abruptly closes it. He tosses the pillow and blanket on the couch.

“Uh...bathroom’s down the hall on your left. Night.”

Then, he vanishes into his room.

Tang finishes cleaning, and then goes to bed himself.

It becomes part of the routine. Pigsy never demands he come upstairs, but he never shuts the door on Tang, either, and Tang will never shoot down a free place to stay. Pigsy gets used to him, even. Sees Tang sitting on the couch, makes dinner, hands Tang a plate whatever it is and drops down on the couch to watch TV.

If it isn’t making fun of trash TV, Pigsy screams at cooking shows.

“You can’t just throw onion in it and expect it to work out!” he shouts.

Tang laughs. “Very bold from the guy who only serves one type of dish.”

Pigsy turns red. “I can make other food!” The argument is sound.

“I know,” Tang assures him, taking a bite of the steak salad Pigsy prepared. It’s the best he’s ever tasted. “You just choose not to, which I don’t understand. Why only noodles?”

The question throws Pigsy off guard, and Tang waits patiently for him to collect his thoughts. Finally, Pigsy sighs.

“They’re what I like to eat, I guess. Besides, if I made a full scale restaurant, I’d hafta get more cooks, hire waiters, ugh,” Pigsy looks disgusted just thinking about it. “The kitchen’s my place, I don’t trust any two bit cook to get it. I mean, just look at the ones on TV!”

He gestures to the television, as if Tang hasn’t been watching. Tang nods, glances at the screen anyway. “I like how the shop is. It’s small, but it’s good. Bigger doesn’t mean better.”

At that, Tang has to laugh. “You would think that,” he responds, and at Pigsy’s confused look, he gestures to Pigsy’s stature.

“Shut up,” Pigsy says with a blush. Tang can’t stop laughing, and Pigsy cracks a smile.

Living with Pigsy, Tang finds out, means dealing with all of Pigsy. This includes the moments where Pigsy can no longer keep a lid on his already hair-thin temper.

The clutter of the house suddenly makes sense when he comes up to the apartment to see Pigsy throwing books around the room, raging face red and pained and furious in a way Tang has never seen before.

“Bastards!” Pigsy shouts, voice hoarse.

He’s been clearly shouting for a while. His knuckles are bruised, and Tang spots a few dents in the wall.

“I’ll kill em! I-,” He freezes, upon seeing Tang standing by the door.

Tang watches as Pigsy reigns in his rage, somehow, forcing his shoulders to drop, standing up straight, letting out a breath. It looks painful.

“I see something’s bothering you,” Tang comments, direct and gentle as one can be when trying to talk to someone on the precipice of blind rage, as Pigsy breathes heavily.

“Leave.” Pigsy spits it out with a vitriol that is not aimed at Tang, but at something Tang isn’t a part of.

Tang knows this, and he won’t let Pigsy drown in it. He stands still, as the storm rages in blue eyes.

“No,” he is stone, hands clasped together. Pigsy grits his teeth, clenches his fists. The wave rises and crashes down.

“GET OUT!”

It’s loud enough to make Tang wince, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

At that, Pigsy goes boneless, slumping down on himself. Tang steps forward, carefully, quietly, and directs Pigsy to the untouched couch.

Untouched because it’s Tang’s bed, Tang’s space. Because Pigsy would only destroy himself and his things, would only rage at the things he deems worthy, and Tang wonders, why does Pigsy think himself worthy of this hatred, the anger that sits in Pigsy’s heart?

Pigsy sinks into the cushions. Tang takes his bruised hands and holds them, letting Pigsy breathe.

“MK’s folks,” Pigsy finally spits out. “They found out the kid’s got a good job and an okay place, and now they want a cut of his earnings.”

The tone of Pigsy’s voice is nothing short of derisive, and Tang understands the fury now. It’s funny, that he knows Pigsy enough to tell the difference between rage that’s performative and fury that’s real, but it’s not that hard for him.

Fury like this comes from care, and there is no one Pigsy cares more about than MK. MK, the boy with the sunshine smile who likes Monkey King and drawing and will work himself to death for anyone’s approval.

“I’d have told em to shove it, but MK’s got a soft heart, and they told him it was paying back for all the trouble they had raising him.” Pigsy laughs, and it’s very, very bitter. “Like they raised him. Mei probably was a better parent than they were, and she’s his age. Bastards.”

Tang swallows the information, takes a deep breath. He wouldn’t consider himself easily angered, but this? This makes him furious. He doesn’t express his fury like Pigsy does, isn’t destructive, is cold and quiet and deadly. But he saves that for later, for when he can look up MK’s parents and figure out how to ruin them when it comes to their jobs, their social standings, their lives.

“Technically, that could be charged as harassment,” he suggests.

Pigsy snorts at that, at least.

“Yeah, but MK’s only 17. He’s turning 18 in a few months, but until then they could drag him back, charge me with kidnapping, ruin his whole life just because he isn’t their fucking lap dog,” The rage returns, and Tang watches as Pigsy carefully clenches his fists, as if he were too quick about it he could hurt Tang.

It strikes Tang, then, that he has never been afraid that Pigsy would hit him. It never crossed his mind. Because how could it?

“I’m gonna commit a felony,” Pigsy mutters.

Tang snickers. “I’ll drive,” he responds.

Pigsy looks up at him, and Tang hopes the expression on his face bleeds the sincerity he feels.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near the driver’s seat of my car,” Pigsy smirks as he says it, and he relaxes a bit more, the anger draining out of him like water through a sieve.

Tang wasn’t aware that he was tense himself, but he relaxes a bit, too.

“But you’ll get blood on the steering wheel. And besides, it’s no fun not having a criminal record. I ought to start it sometime, right?”

“You don’t know anything about me, if you think this’ll be the beginning of my record,” Pigsy half laughs.

Tang shrugs. “You’re right. But, I’d like to.”

Pigsy looks up at him, then, the red in his face smoothing to something dusty and rosy and beautiful. Tang looks away first. “But, first, you need some ice and bandages for your hands.” He gets up to grab it.

When he comes back, Pigsy tells him all about the boy who would come in with exact change for the cheapest bowl of noodles, once a week every Friday. How the boy would ramble on and on about everything, and Pigsy would listen out of politeness, and somehow that turned to a fondness he couldn’t shake. How that boy came rushing in, half soaked in the rain, hiding out just for the moment before he was going to keep running. How Pigsy had thrown caution to the wind and moved mountains to get the kid to stay.

Tang listens, disinfecting the areas on Pigsy’s knuckles that are cut instead of just being bruised. He wraps them, gentle, and places ice on both. Even then, he doesn’t let go of the hands, lets them settle in his grip like they’d always belonged there.

“You’re a kind person, you know,” he says, when Pigsy is done. And he means it, too, thinking of MK alone on the streets, thinking of MK turning out like he did but without the funds to support him, a drifter with nothing and no one. It makes his stomach churn.

“Nah,” Pigsy shrugs his shoulders. “Just had a lot of time to get into practice with it.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Tang lets the conversation end, and turns on the TV. He cleans up the room when Pigsy falls asleep.

Pigsy makes him noodles the next day, without comment. Tang smiles and eats.

A lot of people miscategorize Pigsy as fire. Tang would like to propose a different point of view.

When he sees Pigsy, he sees the sea.

The ocean is never calm, but it can fall into a rhythm. Small waves, rippling waters. Crashing against the obstacle that is land, constantly pushing, constantly trying, constantly moving.

Pigsy will rage like a storm, he will shine like water in the sun, and he will fall into a rhythm as he works. He will push back against the rock that is indifference, and, like the ocean, he surrounds anything and everything, connecting every person he comes into contact with, as if they were the continents themselves. He ebbs and flows, forcing himself into the issues that plagues those he cares about, and yet pulls back and gives them space, never demanding anything other than their time, if they could give it.

The ocean is not harsh, nor is it merciful, but it is a force of nature all the same. And, if you weather its storms, it will carry you wherever you need to go.

And Tang sees a man who gives MK a reason to stick around when all MK wanted to do is run, Tang sees a man who never lets Mei skip a meal regardless of her status and wealth, Tang sees a man that makes sure Tang has a warm and safe place to stay, and sees the ocean carrying battered ships to shore.

Learning about MK’s family has opened up certain topics. Tang knows it’s only a matter of time before Pigsy asks about his life. That doesn’t stop him from stiffening, from going stone faced, when Pigsy finally brings it up.

“I don’t hear you talk about your folks,” Pigsy mentions offhandedly.

When he turns around and sees the expression on Tang’s face, he frowns.

“No,” Tang responds.

He says nothing else. Pigsy doesn’t press. Just turns back to making dinner. And Tang stares at his reflection in the teacup. He takes a sip. It burns his tongue, but he doesn’t feel it.

“They died. Nearly two years, now,” he finally says, and it’s like dropping a weight off of his shoulders.

Pigsy grunts in acknowledgment. Doesn’t give him the sad stare, the ‘oh I’m so sorry’, he just glances back with something softer than pity and closer to empathy.

Somehow, it lessens the dull ache in his chest.

“They good ones?” Pigsy asks.

Tang smiles, just a little. “Yes,” he breathes, and it hitches, thinking about how they pushed him forward, how they never demanded but always encouraged. Tang wasn’t good at making friends, not close ones anyway. But that never mattered, because his parents were there.

And now…

“Mine are gone too,” Pigsy says, after some time and mostly as an afterthought. “It ain’t easy, dealing with it.”

Tang huffs a wet laugh, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes.“No, it isn’t,” He responds.

Pigsy slides a bowl yanduxian soup, with some some skewers of meat, and sugar coated haws for dessert. Quite the array of a meal. Pigsy sits across from him, and starts in on his own meal.

Tang eats. It’s the best he’s ever tasted, as always.

Looking up at Pigsy, something in his chest warms. He thinks about his parents and it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“I think they’d have liked you, if you’d met them,” he says, softer than he feels, because he’s never said anything about love but this is as close as he can get.

Pigsy looks up, cheeks glowing, and he smiles and Tang melts, just a little.

The apartment becomes lived in. During one of their shopping trips, Pigsy gets Tang a different outfit, muttering something about Tang needing something to wear when his clothes are being washed. Two outfits becomes three, becomes four, all hung up right beside Pigsy’s sleep shirts and chef coats. Tang gets his own toothbrush.

He buys himself books and they fill up the empty space on the bookshelves. He buys alcohol, stores it in Pigsy’s fridge and laughs off the comments about his poor taste in baijiu. He was never one to settle in, he never thought he could again, but slowly Pigsy’s apartment becomes their apartment and the change in his mind as he thinks of it leaves him wide eyed and spiraling.

Pigsy takes it all in stride, greeting Tang in the morning with something on his face that looks...pleased? Tang doesn’t understand it, and yet it makes his face feel warm when he thinks about it.

The winter months roll in, because while they have a weather tower to regulate weather it does not mean that they can ignore the need for seasons, and the apartment becomes colder.

“Do you not have A/C?” he curls up tight, beneath his blanket, and still shivers.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you didn’t freeload all the time, I could afford to use it!”

Later, Tang will find this all as a facade. He knows Pigsy would never blame him for being without the funds to pay for heating. In fact, the noodle shop does better in the winter months, because of the desire for warm, filling food to combat the chill. He will later find out that Pigsy forgoes the A/C in his apartment to save up money to give MK a yearly Christmas bonus, both as a present and so MK can heat up his room.

In the moment, however, he just turns away with a huff.

Pigsy sighs. “The bed’s warmer,” he says.

Tang stares, blankly, until it finally hits him what Pigsy is suggesting. “Why, you cad! Trying to bed me when we’ve barely courted!” He leans back on the couch dramatically.

“Shut up!” Pigsy looks very flustered, and Tang grins, leading Pigsy to snap some more. “You were the one complaining about being cold!”

Tang sips his tea, and shrugs. Pigsy turns back to dinner to hide his blushing face.

That night, he moves to sleep in Pigsy’s bed. It’s a pretty large one, it isn’t as if there isn’t room for the both of them. The move is purely practical, after all.

Pigsy sleeps in a tank top and boxers. Tang wonders if the tank top is for his sake. They both get in the bed very stiff, neither wanting to acknowledge what’s happening. Tang curls up under covers, back to Pigsy. The bedroom is indeed warmer. Tang imagines the small heater sitting in the corner is likely the reason.

He turns his head. Pigsy is already asleep, trails of light from the outside signs segmenting his face. He’s snoring. He looks calm.

Tang stares for longer than he thinks he should, before he lets his eyes slide shut.

It becomes routine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As whole, as Tang reminisces on the moments bringing him to his position, he’s quite glad he decided to stick around. It’s a strange place, this city, full of danger and mystery, now that MK is the monkie kid, now that the demons are free, but at the same time little has changed, and that is something Tang can appreciate. Every morning he settles at the noodle shop and lets life continue, predictable, comfortable.

And maybe that’s his mistake. That he thinks he can coast forever. The sea is many things, but predictable is not one of them.

The downfall starts when Mei mentions that one of her aunts has been trying speed dating.

“She made the mistake of signing up for the straight couple’s night. She told me that when she realized, she left faster than the speed date itself!” Mei taps her fingers on the noodle bar, giggling along with MK at the thought.

“Speed dating doesn’t make sense. I mean, how can you figure out if you like someone in a minute?” MK crosses his arms over his chest and ponders.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I knew I liked you in sixty seconds,” Mei boops Mk on the nose, and he laughs, before making a face. There’s a mixture of emotions there—disgust, confusion, fear?

“Yeah, but that’s different. We’re friends,” he stresses that last word, looking at Mei expectantly. “Just friends.”

“Well, duh! I was just saying,” Mei rolls her eyes.

Tang watches the tension roll out of MK like a breeze. He wonders...but will never waste an opportunity to snark, so he sets the thoughts aside for a moment and leans back on the counter.

“I’m sure I could charm anyone in sixty seconds. Where is this happening, exactly?” he asks.

Mei gives him a look. “I’m pretty sure speed dating isn’t for people who are already taken,” she tells him, and Tang blinks, confusion painting his features.

“What do you mean?” he asks.He jumps when Pigsy’s knife slams hard against the wood of the cutting board, harder than normal.

Tang frowns. “Pigsy, you alright?”

“Peachy,” Pigsy growls out, from the kitchen.

Tang stares, before shrugging it off. Pigsy’s moods aren’t entirely predictable, after all, and it isn’t as if anything terrible has happened today. Pigsy’s cooking smells as heavenly as ever.

He turns back to Mei and MK, but they’re disappearing out the door, MK with the next batch of deliveries in hand. Tang tilts his head to the side in confusion, before shrugging.

Oh well.

Pigsy is still stilted, when they head upstairs that night. He’s quiet during dinner, quiet after dinner, and instead of watching TV he goes back to the kitchen to make a dessert. Tang follows, sitting at the kitchen island, watching how Pigsy shuffles about, glancing occasionally at a recipe. Cocoa powder, flour, eggs, different ingredients come out. The oven is preheated.

“Something’s clearly bothering you,” Tang says, finally.

Pigsy stiffens. Runs a hand down his face. Sighs.

He keeps working, throws the dessert in the oven, sets a careful timer.

Tang waits, and waits.

The kitchen is silent, save for the ambience.

“What is this, Tang?” Pigsy’s voice is hard, hands resting on the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched as he finally speaks up. He sounds exhausted, from days and days of work. Tang frowns. “You steal food from my shop, you sleep in my house—you live with me, for pete’s sake, you—what is this that we have?”

And Tang, Tang doesn’t know what to say.

“Is this even something?”

He’s basked in the freedom to be himself, with Pigsy. A label defines, a label makes you inseparable. Tang comes and goes as he pleases, he doesn’t get pinned down, he’s one and alone, with Pigsy by his side.

He has called himself a ‘father figure’ to MK, but that is inherently different. There’s a degree of separation, with that label. He can still leave, and MK will not be too bereft. MK has others, Tang is just one. Pigsy wants more than that, he doesn’t want the separation, and Tang is always unsure.

“I just—” And there’s something quiet and breaking in Pigsy’s voice.

Tang says nothing.

“Whatever you want from me, Tang, you have it. I’ll-I’ll give you everything, just—”

Blue eyes, like the constant tide of the ocean, meet earth in Tang’s brown ones.

Tang is afraid he could erode.

If he stayed.

What would he become, if he shifted his foundation?

“Is there a point to this?” Pigsy asks. “Or am I just something you keep around? To say you have one?”

Tang knows that he is a man of words, of stories, knows he is Triptaka, is Tang Sanzang, and myriad others placed in the body of a single man, knows he has more knowledge in an inch of his brain than most gain in their entire lives, but he has nothing to say now.

His thoughts halt at the wounded expression on Pigsy’s face.

More than just anger and softer than just hurt, settled between an aching heart and a broken one.

“I…,” he starts, and then his mouth clicks shut, because he is, before and now, a coward eventually.

Whether he is captured by demons or putting his foot down against others’ bad behavior, he falters. And he is terrified, because the swell of his heart, the affection that warms him enough to burn, is too much to bear, to articulate.

So instead, he says nothing at all.

And he knows he’s erred, because Pigsy turns his back as the timer dings.

He pulls the set of mini cakes from the oven, sets them down on the counter with forced gentleness. Tang flinches at the harsh bang of the oven closing. Watches Pigsy’s chest rise and fall with harsh breaths that hitch with an emotion Tang can’t place, before Pigsy swallows, steels himself, stills. Clenches his fists as if readying himself for a fight. Tang doesn’t know what the battle is, wonders what side he’s on.

“Forget it.” He hears, finally, and Tang feels his heart jump in his throat.

The words sound like a relent, like something giving way. It strikes him like a spear through the chest, and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

The mini cakes cool in a few minutes, but it may as well be hours with how silent and still the kitchen is, and Pigsy sets one on a plate for Tang, placing it in front of him with a fork. Chocolate lava cake, something Tang had mentioned off handedly as an interesting dessert to try. Of course Pigsy remembered. Why wouldn’t he?

Pigsy vanishes into his room. The door slams shut. Tang eats.

It’s the best he’s ever tasted, like always.

He sleeps on the couch. It’s cold.

Pigsy doesn’t open the shop, the next day. Tang leaves early in the morning, before breakfast, to give him some space, and comes back from his leisurely morning walk to a closed sign hanging on the door. Unlike the last time, MK waves at Tang, hopping down the stairs excitedly. Pigsy gave him the day off, because Pigsy isn’t feeling well, apparently.

Tang sees the worried lines in MK’s expression and promises he will make sure Pigsy is okay. MK runs off, to meet Mei at the arcade, and Tang heads up the stairs. He passes MK’s apartment door and stands in front of Pigsy’s door.

He knocks.

“Pigsy?” He calls, loud enough that he can’t be missed. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Silence.

Tang doesn’t know how to handle rejection, didn’t think it possible, from Pigsy. In the two years they’ve known each other, he has never been rebuffed. Has never been told, in no uncertain terms, to leave. Pigsy has shouted it without heat, before, but it has never rang true.

He stands outside the door for twenty minutes, trying to swallow something akin to fear crawling up his chest, as he slowly realizes the door isn’t going to open. He waits another ten minutes after that, processing the realization, the pain in his chest.

“Alright,” He says, finally, and he prays Pigsy doesn’t hear how his voice shakes. “Get well soon. I’ll see you in the shop.”

He should demand to be let in. He should kick down the door, do something. Be bold, be brave, courageous.

But he never was a fighter, so he turns on his heel, and leaves what is left of their relationship on the welcome mat.

He walks through the city, again, because he has nothing better to do now. There is no comfort from stepping into the noodle shop and feeling like home. There is no barstool with his name on it, no random bowl of noodles appearing at his seat inconspicuously, no begging for a story from MK, no fond looks from blue eyes in the kitchen.

Tang had settled into routines and expectations. The rug has been pulled from beneath his feet as he tries to grasp the idea that the comforts have crashed into dysfunction. He tracks every minute of the two years he’s spent here, tries to trace the beginning of the end like a true crime investigator, and still, he can’t decipher why the equilibrium shattered.

Change is a product of existence, Comes a memory from his days as a monk. You must let life flow like a river, accepting the directions it will take.

But Tang isn’t a monk anymore, and he is not flowing like a river or any such nonsense that sounds far more like what Sandy would say. He is analytical, he is intelligent, he is knowledgeable. Despite all of that, he is stumped by this situation, by what he is to do.

The answer, of course, is the simplest, but Tang is pretending not to be ignoring it, because acknowledging the solution means making a choice he can’t undo. To decide if he wants this to be set in stone. Can he tie himself down like this, can he make that choice to stay, forever if it comes to it?

At the same time, hasn’t he already? Just a day without being able to go into the noodle shop leaves him aimless. A day without Pigsy and he is lost, without much to do or see. He has centered himself about the warm air of noodles and the gruff smile of the chef making them.

And that is so, so terrifying. When you give everything, when someone is your everything, what happens when they leave? He’s dealt with that enough with his parents, and to become a pair, to be a part of something, he doesn’t think he has the strength for it.

But Pigsy gives and gives, and promised Tang everything, if only Tang would stay. And Tang is a coward, but not enough to ruin something so simple, so kind, and so honest.

He makes a decision, and heads to the bank.

The next day, the noodle shop opens. Tang is there when it does, settling into his barstool without fanfare. He follows Pigsy’s movements with sharp eyes, notes the rumpled form of his shirt, how his pants aren’t tucked into his dress shoes, how his feet shuffle against the tile instead of stomping with purpose. Pigsy moves slow, turns to look at Tang and has bags under his eyes—or could they be red from crying? Tang isn’t sure.

His heart aches, as Pigsy regards him with something like heartbreak. Pigsy says nothing, turns back to his work, and Tang watches.

Step one.

He heads to the market between the lunch and dinner rushes, picks out the ingredients from memory. He’s walked with Pigsy enough times to know what it is that he has to get. He comes back to the shop with an armful of grocery bags, heading upstairs to their apartment. Pigsy never locks it during the workday, and Tang uses that fact and knowledge to his advantage.

He has no idea how to do this, but he chops the vegetables and meat and sets the water to boil. Brings forth the memories of two years of watching Pigsy make the same thing over and over, and maybe looks up a recipe or two on his phone for reference.

By the time Pigsy comes upstairs, when the shop closes, it’s ready. Tang pours the servings into two bowls, and nearly jumps and drops everything when the door opens.

“Welcome home,” he says, braver than he feels.

Pigsy stares at him, at the bowl of steaming broth, and sets his chef’s hat on its hook. He pulls off his shoes, puts up his chef’s coat, leaving him in a t-shirt and slacks.

Tang watches Pigsy’s movements instead of thinking about how to approach the situation. He gets a little distracted, until Pigsy hops up onto one of the island chairs, pulling a bowl towards himself. Tang sits across from him, waiting for Pigsy to take a sip.

Pigsy takes the chopsticks offered, as well as the spoon. He takes a sip. His face remains carefully neutral.

Tang takes a sip a few moments after. He promptly sputters into his bowl, and laughs.

“God, this is terrible!” he can’t stop laughing, and he can see a smile peeking at the edges of Pigsy’s mouth. “I tried to make it like yours, but I guess I’m coming up short,” he glances at Pigsy, looks him up and down.

Pigsy’s face is dusted with a pleased blush. “Shaddup. And hey, it ain’t worse than my first attempt at cooking.”

Tang snorts at that one. “I doubt that. But, do tell. I don’t think you’ve ever told me why you decided to become a cook in the first place, anyway.”

This is the start. Tang makes Pigsy a meal, and Pigsy tells him a story.

That night, he sleeps next Pigsy, like usual, and traces the way the moonlight sets upon Pigsy’s face. He needs to do more. He needs to be more, and he’s pretty sure financial support would be somewhat helpful, so he schemes.

Step two.

A few days later, as the air between them settles into something like normal, he appears one afternoon, change in his pocket and bills in his wallet.

“A bowl of noodles, please.” He sets the money on the counter. It’s enough for at least three bowls of noodles, but that’s by design.

“Keep the change.” He evene winks, like it’s a joke

Pigsy eyes the money and then gets the most offended look on his face, as expected. Before he can make a move to either argue or even respond, Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and explains.

“Didn’t you know? This month is my charity month. I go to different establishments and pay to keep them afloat.”

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pshh, I don’t need your charity to keep this place runnin’! Pigsy’s Noodles is a thriving establishment,” he rebuffs.

“So you’re refusing my service?” Tang responds, like a challenge.

He raises a brow, and watches as Pigsy gets redder and redder.

“One bowl of noodles, coming right up,” Pigsy manages through gritted teeth.

Tang hides a laugh behind his hand as Pigsy scoops up the money and grumbles, shoving two of the bills into the cash register and one into the tip jar.

Because MK had been bemoaning a lack of sketchbook paper, a lack of money for replacing such, and just like every time MK talks about something he wants, off handed or to complain because that’s how he deals, Pigsy will take some of the money that should go to the shop into the tip jar when MK doesn’t look, smiling to himself when MK excitedly realizes that, thanks to the tip jar, he can get what it was he thought he couldn’t—

Because Pigsy gives and gives and gives, pieces of himself scattered across and holding together the people he’s chosen to keep close, regardless if Pigsy is the one who ends up falling apart in the end, and Tang wants to fill up the spaces that Pigsy has lost from his generosity.

Tang takes his bowl of noodles and smirks, like he’s won. That night, when they’re sitting on the couch and watching TV, Pigsy leans his head on Tang’s shoulder.

“You coulda just said you wanted to start payin’ rent,” he mutters.

Tang snickers. “Where’s the fun in that? You got so red, I thought you were going to become a tomato.”

At that, Pigsy sits up.

“I’ll show you a tomato—c’mere!”

Maybe it’s a bit dangerous to challenge someone who knows all of your ticklish spots. Tang laughs until he cries, and concedes to Pigsy’s victory.

Step three doesn’t really register. He doesn’t think about it, because the first two steps have brought him back into that comfortable routine. Maybe he might have fallen into the same bad habits, if not for his hyperawareness of Pigsy’s moods in the following weeks. He doesn’t want to miss something, like he did before. He wants to be attentive, be kind.

He wants Pigsy to never again think of or ask the questions he did, that night. He wants Pigsy to know, immediately, what they are. Even if Tang is afraid to define it.

It’s a typical day at the shop, but Pigsy is a bit more tired than normal. Some days, this happens. Pigsy would never hire another chef, even though he has enough business to afford it, and being the only cook in a bustling restaurant means little breaks and consistent exhaustion.

Tang still makes them dinner, most nights. He tries a new recipe each day, because why not? Pigsy takes to each one like a food critic, and his descriptions have Tang in stitches every time—

“I never thought you could turn broccoli into soup.”

“Okay, so I cooked it too long!”

“You liquified a vegetable! Without blending! That’s like...did you use magic on this? Tang, did you use magic on this.”

—He’s not a very good cook, yet, but Pigsy eats anything he makes anyway.

Today, Pigsy is already tired, and he clearly doesn’t have the energy to deal with an annoying customer.

He has to anyways.

“This isn’t what I ordered last time! I ordered your original noodle bowl two weeks ago, and it tasted far better than this!” The irate woman slams her empty bowl on the counter.

Tang wonders if she understands the irony of complaining about a meal she finished.

“Ma’am, I make every bowl of noodles the same. I’m the only cook here. You either ordered somethin’ else, or your taste buds changed in two weeks.” Pigsy isn’t polite to customers like these, but Tang has to commend him for holding back, for still calling her ‘Ma’am’. Tang has a few different names he’d call her.

“I know what I ordered, and my tastebuds didn’t change. You clearly made it wrong! I demand a refund immediately!” She shouts in his face.

Pigsy goes from pink to red. “Look, lady, you finished your meal. I ain’t giving you back the money for shit you ate.” He spits, and she leans back, aghast.

“The nerve!” She leans back, aghast. “I don’t know what I expected from a pig—”

She freezes as a pair of chopsticks sticks its way between the two angry faces.

“Excuse me,” Tang starts.

His glasses flash, and he doesn’t bother standing. His arm divides the space, as he leans back in his chair with a bowl in his free hand. He pushes her back, ignores the look of confusion on Pigsy’s face. “I suggest you get over yourself. This behavior certainly isn’t doing anything for your looks.”

The woman leans back, crosses her arms.

“And you are?” She hisses.

“I’m his partner,” Tang says, and surprises himself with how easily the title falls out of his mouth. “And you don’t get to talk to him that way. If anyone is acting in poor taste, it’s you.”

Pigsy’s face is slack, his eyes are wide, and the red of anger on his face has given way to the dusty rose Tang has come to expect as Pigsy’s blush.

The woman opens her mouth, finger raised. Tang raises his eyebrow in waiting. But then she huffs, turns on her heel, and leaves.

Tang doesn’t give her a second thought, turning back to his own bowl of noodles—which have tasted the same in the two years he’s been eating here, so she’s full of it, clearly—before glancing over at Pigsy, who is staring at him with eyes full of something.

He has never seen Pigsy’s eyes shine like that before.

His face warms, and he buries it in his scarf and bowl. Pigsy smiles, and turns back to work.

That night, they’re sitting on the couch after eating another concoction that could barely be called food— “You’re getting better at this.” “You don’t have to lie to me.” “Bold of you to assume I would spare your feelings when it comes to your cooking skills.”—and Pigsy’s hand slides away from his lap and rests on top of Tang’s. Casual.

“My partner, huh?” Pigsy says over the buzz of the television.

Tang flushes. “It seemed an appropriate word to use.”

“Sure.”

Pigsy’s voice holds a laugh, and Tang could leave it here, he could. It would be far too easy to settle, to let it fall complacent.

But Tang has let the ocean lap at his heels, and now all he wants to do is dive.

“Hey,” he turns Pigsy’s face towards his, and—

Pigsy’s lips are warm.

Pigsy’s eyes are blown wide, and Tang closes his quickly, worried about the response, worried about Pigsy’s reaction.

Dimly, in the back of his head, he thinks ‘It’s the best he’s ever tasted’ and he has to squash the laugh that bubbles up his throat, because it isn’t appropriate right now. Pigsy's snout practically crushes his nose, and the sharp hairs on his face prickle Tang's skin.

He breaks away. Pigsy’s smile is blinding, a rare event. His face is flushed, both of them are flushed and Tang fidgets with his glasses. There’s a beat of silence, as they stare at each other, before they both turn back to the TV to avoid the ever so awkward eye contact.

They watch whatever’s on, for a minute of crushing silence.

“Alright,” Pigsy finally sighs, long sufferingly fond, and he leans against Tang as if tang were his rock. The ocean crashes against the sea, and the rock stays steady. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

Tang inclines his head so it’s resting on top of Pigsy’s. The rock erodes, and becomes something new. Moves with the ocean, given enough time.

“Where else would I get free food?”

Pigsy laughs.

#lego monkie kid #freenoodleshipping #Tang #Pigsy #kitkat1003 #monkie kid tang #monkie kid pigsy

111 notes · View notes

pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

Text

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series: The Rewatch pt.3

Ok, full disclosure: I should not be doing this right now. But I've been thinking about it since yesterday and, well, I reckon I can go over 1x4 and 5, and then move on to my actual work. So here we are. I'm really, really excited for these two, so without further ado, I'll dive right into:

1x4: It's hard to believe that I couldn't see... the majority of what happens in this episode when I first watched it

Why is Nini such a pro at making a scene with whoever her current boyfriend is in the middle of a public place? I mean, I get it that she's upset about EJ going through her phone — who wouldn't be — but maybe - and this is just a friendly suggestion — she could try and discuss that in private, not start a shouting match within view of all their classmates. Just saying.

'Ricky would never steal my phone' — well, perhaps not, but he's not quite above deleting stuff from it, either... I wonder if whoever is writing this show knows that there are many other ways to make a relationship unhealthy... it's not funny anymore. Just repetitive.

Ahhh Natalie and her emotional support hamster! At least there's one good thing about this scene.

Sure, Ricky, blame Big Red for the fact that you misplace your stuff... a very nice best friend he's got, indeed.

Gosh, everything is so awkward and there is just so much tension all over the place — Ricky's parents, then EJ and Nini, and then Carlos just being oblivious to the fact that they just broke up... you know, that last part just made me laugh. And then Ricky's reaction to his parents legally separating just broke my heart. That boy's been through too much.

Big Red being completely clueless about theatre terms is super funny and endearing, but let me just put myself in his shoes for a sec. He's followed his best friend into a badly thought-out scheme to get back together with his ex, got dragged into joining the crew, and is now expected to know what everything is. I would not put up with that... ok, who are we kidding, I'm a massive pushover and would put up with anything, but my point is... he shouldn't have to. At least people are doing the bare minimum to help him learn and nobody's laughed at him for not knowing. That's the good thing about this crew.

Ok, so I have posted about my thoughts of their take on What I've Been Looking For before, back when the episode was brand new, so I won't go into detail about that. In short, I think they've got the arrangement all wrong considering that it is a plot point in the original movie, but... the execution is funny. The scene is about Nini and EJ's post-breakup tension and it shows. I just kind of wish now Miss Jenn had pulled Nini out and put Gina in, even just for this rehearsal — and I might or might not be saying this as a Portwell shipper.

Miss Jenn is done with the students' personal drama and honestly, I'm right behind her. These kids are being completely unprofessional — and well, I realise that we can't expect them to be professional at this stage, but... they could at least try to concentrate on rehearsal and not their personal lives for a second.

Ricky hugging a cushion is my spirit animal. That's it, that's the comment.

Ahhh the tension between EJ and Gina though... 'around here seniors don't follow sophomores' — well, we'll see how it goes, Mr. Senior.

What gives Nini the right to shout at strangers about their relationship? I am honestly so frustrated with her these days. Wonder why I never was during season 1. The reasons are all there.

'He loves you' — yeah, like a little sister, he does. Also, Ash is so precious, always trying to see the good in other people. EJ 1.0 is so lucky he had her as an example.

Ok, I'm not going to go into what an amazing best friend Big Red is because we all know that (plus I'm saving it for a certain scene in 1x5), but this must be so hard for him. I mean, he's trying his absolute best to help Ricky feel better and distract him from his problems, and Ricky is turning everything down. I mean, I guess I understand where he's coming from too, but I'm unable to look at things through the lead-centric lens alone anymore. I'm more aware of non-lead characters now (some more so than others) and this is putting a whole new spin on my perception of everything that happens.

I've got no idea how Big Red can sleep with all this noise, though. I could never. But to each their own.

'perfect on paper' — that's EJ 1.0 to a T. I've got to give Nini that.

Ricky wearing the pride t-shirt... we love to see it.

See, this is why I keep forgetting why I ever shipped Rini and then remembering again... their chemistry is just so on-again-off-again, and here it's definitely present, but I just need a couple with consistent chemistry, you know. Hey, isn't that kind of what All I Want is about? Kind of. I don't know. I've been unable to listen to that song ever since it got big irl. I have this... problem with media that becomes popular and mainstream... I mean, I never hold a grudge against things just for being popular, but I just... relate to underrated stuff much easier. Not because it's underrated, but it just so happens that nearly everything I like and relate to is underrated in some capacity. Even HSMTMTS itself — it's practically unheard of here in Bulgaria, so I would not have found it if I hadn't been looking for it specifically. Ok, this comment got derailed several times. I guess I'll just stop here and move right on to 1x5 at this point.

1x5: A bedazzled tablecloth, a perfectly balanced unicycle and bad reception at the barn... not the perfect ingredients, but they can still... Work This Out

'Miss Jenn says that's a life in the arts... well, that and almost constant unemployment' — alright, I know this line is not supposed to be funny, and that it's a painful reality for a lot of people, but... maybe it's the delivery. I just laugh every time.

See, this is what I mean when I say I want to see consistent chemistry — Seblos have it. I mean, I really don't want to jinx things, but... they do.

Big Red seems to be in a more... outspoken mood today, I guess you could say. Too bad Ricky is still shutting everything he says down. Seriously, Big Red and Seb should start a club for people who try their best to be there for their loved ones and still keep being shushed.

I might be super frustrated with nearly everything Nini says and does (can somebody please tell me why that is?), but... flushing her dress down the toilet? Major mood.

Listen, I love Miss Jenn and that she's close to her students, but... emerging from a toilet cubicle and inviting herself to Kourtney and Nini's girls' night was... Will Shuester level of questionable.

Ricky being the mature one about his parents separation is... I mean, it's admirable, but how did he move past the impending depression of last episode and towards being the one who tells his dad to get up and move on? Well, I mean, good for him. But I think the issue is far from buried yet.

'Friend of the year'? Ricky? I don't think so. First of all, if he were, he'd know that Big Red does not have two left feet. Wasn't it you, Ricky, who was stumbling over the steps in HSM a couple of weeks ago? You're one to talk. Plus Big Red's been listening and trying to help while you've just been spouting off about your personal problems for... how long has it been now? I get it, Ricky has issues that he needs to work through, but he's almost legally blind in both eyes when it comes to Big Red.

Ok, but Ricky is the epitome of 'cannot solve his own problems but has a suggestion on how everybody else should solve theirs' in this episode. Maybe take a step back and listen to your own advice?

'My parents think I'm bonding with the livestock' — I've got no idea why I find this line so funny, but I do. And I've got so much love for this entire scene. Carlos' reaction to Seb's response to his invitation is just... the most adorable thing ever! My heart might just burst. Especially given what we're about to go through tomorrow in 2x10... I am. Not. Ready.

The entire karaoke scene just reminds me of... pretty much every extended family reunion on my mum's side. Her cousins love karaoke and are also completely tone-deaf. I love it that they're able to have fun with it, but my ears are still recovering from my great aunt's birthday party two years ago.

'When did you become Nini?' — Why does Mr. Mazzara know so much about his students' dating lives? I mean, Miss Jenn does, too, but he doesn't strike me as someone as invested in them as her. Idk, it just struck me as kind of weird.

'I didn't agree to photos' — please, EJ, I'm sure you'll want memories from your first fake-dating gig with Gina... once you're no longer fake-dating, you know. Boy, these two are going to have stories to tell to their grandchildren.

I've said some stuff about Nini, but... 'a bedazzled tablecloth' is the funniest description I've heard for Gina's homecoming dress.

'Maybe it's not actually about you at all.' Yeah, you tell him, Reddy! Ricky needs to get over himself.

The way Big Red sniffs out the drama, though... I was not-so-randomly reminded of that moment in 2x9 where Seb was like Carlos. and Big Red was like, 'Are you guys fighting?'...

Big Red doing a comedic lip-reading of Gina and EJ's dramatic scene is absolutely hilarious. I might or might not have sold my heart and soul to him after seeing that scene for the first time. But I just remembered how he said earlier that maybe he can't read lips and that just makes this 100% funnier — he was basically like a child who can't read yet making up a story based on the pictures in a book, and I mean it in the best way possible. He's a theatre dark horse, this one, and they should all be intimidated — or inspired, whatever they choose — by his hidden talents. Gosh, I love this guy. But can you blame me?

'You think I'm actually going to confide in you?' — Absolutely. You can't bully someone from your position of authority over them and then act like you're their friend. I do know now that Mr. Mazzara has hidden depths, but he had no right to be as rude to Carlos as he was in 1x3. He was right about one thing, though — Carlos doesn't need a dance partner to dance.

Ricky saying he was going to apologise to Gina and counting that as an apology is giving me major TJ/ Buffy flashbacks. I wonder why that is... * sarcasm *

Nini feeling like a fraud makes me actually sympathise with her for a second. But I feel like Nini's flaw of defining herself through boys and Ricky in particular has been addressed one time too many now, since it was first addressed here in this episode. If they make her and Ricky get back together again in season 2, I will riot. [side note: I feel like the Born to Be Brave scene says a lot about both Rini and Seblos as couples. Nini and Carlos both feel, in the moments leading up to the song, like they are incomplete without their partners. Ricky, too, has built his personality entirely around Nini at that time (and is still not completely over that in s2). And then the song comes in to remind them that they don't need a partner to be happy. I'm just thinking of Big Red's 'perfectly balanced unicycle' comment from the promotional materials, and of how he and Ashlyn, even when they're dating in s2, are never portrayed as being incomplete without each other. I guess there's a reason why they're the Beta Couple of the show — their relationship drama is nearly non-existent, and when it does exist, it's just caused by them caring too much about each other. Every other couple on the show should learn from them.]

Everybody supporting Carlos during the Born to Be Brave number just warms my heart so much... I am actually crying real tears. And then the end, when Seb finally shows up, right in time for the slow dance... I have a lot of feelings about this scene.

Seblos' dialogue here still kind of makes me cringe a little... but like, in a good way.

Yikes... Miss Jenn's getting into trouble... I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But she's lucky she's had enough time with her students for them to love her enough to fight for her. Still, this is a topic for another episode, and so I won't expand on it in this post.

Well, that's it. That was 1x4 and 5. Those were pretty much my favourite episodes when season 1 was airing. And I can definitely see why, even if my views on some things have changed due to stuff that happens later. But, as I constantly say, that's what rewatches are for. In other words, 'once more, with feeling this time' as my choir director used to say.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts: the rewatch #nini salazar-roberts #ricky bowen #gina porter #ej caswell #ashlyn caswell #ashlyn moon caswell #big red redonovich #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew smith #kourtney greene #hsmtmts miss jenn #hsmtmts mr mazzara #rini #seblos #redlyn #portwell #jnk

19 notes · View notes

planetesastraea · 4 years

Text

On the tip of his tongue

Read Part 1: On the Tip of his Fingers

Geraskier, Modern AU - Explicit - 10 179 words - Warnings: none

Character study, developing relationship, banter, feelings, Geralt vs words, bisexual!Geralt, bottom!Geralt, top!Jaskier, first time, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex. Also contains pizza (mentioned)

Betaed by the wonderful @oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co

Read on AO3

That morning Jaskier got woken up by a soft but firm hand on his shoulder and a husky voice saying his name.

“Hmmf?” was his very articulate reply, definitely worthy of the Creative Writing and Composition in Medieval Times professor he was. “Three words or less,” he would always say to motivate his students to answer questions during class and to start a conversation. Damn, they would have been proud.

“I gotta go,” the deep voice whispered and the previous evening suddenly came back to Jaskier. Geralt. Wow. Geralt . He sat up and blinked a few times before realising his eyes were open but the sun wasn’t up yet. Geralt was but a silhouette in the dark, his smell a mix of long-forgotten aftershave and well remembered sex.

“Mmokay,” Jaskier mumbled, rubbing one eye with his palm. “Thanks for telling me,” he said sleepily. There was a pause and he realised the sentence didn’t land well.

“Sorry. Didn’t want to sneak out,” Geralt replied tightly.

“Yeano, yeah- I meant it. Sorry. Me,” Jaskier said, pointing towards his own face in the dark, and thus proving the point to no one but himself, “not a morning person.”

Geralt snorted softly. Jaskier was overcome with a powerful wave of fondness and a guttural need to reach out and kiss him. Gods bless adorable bi himbos at law.

“I should get going,” Geralt said and Jaskier thought he heard some hesitation in his voice. The mattress dipped slightly as Geralt moved to stand up, and Jaskier reached out blindly. His hand found the inside of Geralt’s elbow and then slid down softly to the man’s wrist, finding his palm.

“Wait,” Jaskier said and Geralt waited. Then it dawned on him that he was supposed to say something . “Do you want to… see me again?” he offered, truly bringing his A-game as the (supposedly) most romantic man in the continent. (He was not boasting. It had simply been brought to his attention by many of his exes, and who was he to question the opinion of the people?) He tried not to sound too hopeful but it was too early in the morning and his acting skills needed a warm-up. After all, one couldn’t just naturally wake up that good.

The silence stretched in a way that made him uncomfortable, especially since Geralt was practically invisible in front of him. Geralt’s fingers brushed his and something in his chest relaxed, but only for a moment.

“I can’t,” Geralt started, making Jaskier’s heart drop, “make promises.”

And okay that wasn’t the worst he could have said but also - uh what ? “Okay? Well I- I’m not asking you to?”

“Hmm.”

“Geralt, I- I had a really nice time with you, you know? And I’d really like to have more… nice times with you. And not just sex, I mean, yes, sex was fantastic, it was , but also, well- what I mean is, I don’t expect you to like, abandon your life or whatever, I just-” he was running out of breath. “Gosh I’m talking too much again, fuck, please, say something? I’m getting zero feedback here and you have to know I’m gonna keep talking until you cut me off-”

“Sorry,” Geralt sighed, his fingers threading between Jaskier’s. “It’s just- This is… I haven’t been with someone in a while and,” he said with hesitation and left the sentence unfinished.

And never with a man , Jaskier thought, pretty sure of what was coming next. “Right,” he said, feeling his throat tighten. Not like he wasn’t used to falling for people who just didn’t have the same life plan- or day plan , even.

“But I think I would,” Geralt said, “like to see you again, I mean.”

“Wait, what?“ Jaskier’s brain derailed.

“I’d like to see you again?” Geralt repeated and it sounded even better the second time.

“Oh.”

"I… had a nice time, too.”

“Oh. Good,” Jaskier whispered, relief washing over him and unlocking the door to yearning. He moved forward, closer to Geralt, his hand sliding up to his shoulder, finding his cheek and feeling the beginning of a stubble under his fingers. “Good,” Jaskier murmured again. Feeling Geralt lean into him was the best reward. He moved his head closer and his nose rubbed softly against Geralt’s, the intimacy sweeter than some of the sex he’d had in the past.

Geralt inclined his head slightly and pressed a chaste, tender kiss against Jaskier’s lips.

Once they parted, phone numbers were exchanged and the soft wish of getting in touch soon was expressed - or, rather, as Jaskier put it as he walked Geralt to the door, “in touch and, well, in touch .” A freaking poet.

The morning after they “had a milkshake” - as Jaskier nicknamed their first close encounter - Geralt had gone home right before sunrise to find Eskel wide awake, sitting on the living room couch, a book on his lap. Eskel had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “Coffee?” was all he had said and Geralt had been oh so grateful.

In the days that followed, he learned a bit more about Jaskier. He taught both poetry and musicology at university, gave private lessons, and performed with his band from time to time. Spring meant preparing finals, helping students to rehearse for auditions, and getting ready for the upcoming festivals The Bard would participate in. Between his schedule and Geralt’s, over a month had gone before they saw each other in the flesh again. But texting? Texting was definitely a Jaskier thing.

A couple of hours after Geralt had left, Jaskier had sent him a text saying “my bed misses you” . Geralt had promptly walked from one meeting to another, only realising at 6.30 pm during a phone call from Assengard, as he caught sight of the restaurant from across the street, that he had left Jaskier hanging. He tried to think of something clever on his way to pick Ciri up from her fencing class. To his surprise, his idea had worked very well on Jaskier.

Of course, as with most things concerning Jaskier, Geralt quickly discovered, it was prone to get out of hand. The man had decided that “the milkshake” would become “a thing”. The fact that Geralt’s favourite order at Denise’s included a vanilla milkshake with cream on top was apparently hilarious for reasons Geralt could not understand.

Since then, Geralt would receive texts from Jaskier every few days, ranging from “thinking of u” to “which one of these says ‘I am a 100%-responsible adult person who will turn your child into a virtuoso if you allow me to teach them?’” with a picture of two button-down shirts attached.

Geralt had left him on read , the bastard.

After the six most frustrating weeks of his life - yes, more frustrating than the whole summer he spent sharing a flat with a Spanish model who had very loud, very heterosexual sex on the other side of their paper-thin, shared bedroom wall - Jaskier finally got his hands back on his favourite lawyer’s ass.

They had agreed Geralt would meet him at his place that Friday after work. And so, Jaskier spent the afternoon trying to convince himself he could mark students’ essays, and was absolutely not in the hellish head-space where nervousness meets horniness. (He made it through five so he counted it as a win.)

He had changed outfits three times in two hours, and had promised Essi he absolutely was not falling for some seemingly perfect person who would then turn out to have a secret wife, three children and a dog (“Well since you’re asking, he has a very public ex-wife, one daughter, and a horse.” “A horse?” “Yup.” “What the hell?” “I have no fucking clue.”)

Jaskier was busy adjusting a sofa pillow to make it appear tidy-but-casual when the bell rang, making him jump out of his skin.

When he opened the door, Geralt looked like he was two seconds away from running back down the stairs and disappearing forever in some mysterious vineyard near Toussaint. Geralt, being the absolute asshole that he was, also looked like a fucking god amongst humans so Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him once again. He had almost forgotten how stunning the man was.

“Hi,” Geralt said.

Jaskier shook himself out of his dreamy smitten state and felt a tingle in his cheeks as he blushed. “Hey, come on in,” he said, waving the man inside.

Geralt had his hair tied in a casual bun and was wearing a black winter coat way above Jaskier’s pay grade. Gods, what a sight. Jaskier was fucked .

“Are you-”

“So how’s-”

They both started and stopped at the same time, which made Jaskier laugh and Geralt shake his head as he looked away, a side of his mouth rising into a smile. Boy, Jaskier thought, if Geralt was half as fond of him as he was of Geralt, they’d be married in three years, move to a farm in five, and adopt every stray dog in the area a year after that at the latest.

“Can I take your coat?” Jaskier offered.

As Geralt nodded, Jaskier got his hands on the lapels of Geralt’s coat, fingers absent-mindedly pressing against Geralt’s chest, feeling the soft wool, and the strong pecs underneath all the layers. A moment passed and he realised Geralt hadn’t moved an inch. He stopped staring at his own hand and, as he looked up, realised Geralt was looking at him. Or more like, looking at his mouth.

There was a beat and they both moved forward, catching each other’s lips.

“Fuck, is it ok to say I’ve missed you?” Jaskier breathed between two kisses.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, pushing Jaskier against the door and leaving his lips to kiss and suck the skin of his neck.

“Ah, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” he half-moaned and got Geralt’s mouth back against his, kissing like he just couldn’t get enough- because he couldn’t. Geralt got rid of his coat, letting it fall onto the floor.

“M-maybe we should take a second to hang it. It looks expensive.”

“It’s a gift from my ex,” Geralt mumbled against Jaskier’s skin, biting tentatively at his Adam’s apple.

“Or we could stomp all over it,” Jaskier deadpanned. Geralt laughed against his throat and Jaskier felt it resonate through his chest.

“So you’re the possessive kind, then?”

“Uh,” Jaskier bit his lip, “only if that turns you on.”

Geralt kissed a line up to Jaskier’s ear and caressed him through his trousers as he nibbled at his earlobe. In the softest, most quiet whisper, he murmured: “It does.”

Jaskier groaned with pleasure and Geralt kissed him in earnest, his hand still fondling the man’s inseam. He pressed his pelvis against Jaskier’s and both moaned from the supplementary friction.

“Let me try something?” Geralt asked against Jaskier’s lips before promptly getting down onto his knees.

“Oh, wow, okay,” Jaskier gasped as Geralt went straight for his belt. “Ah- w-wait, you- you sure?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, undoing the man’s button and zipper until Jaskier’s hands came to rest softly over his.

“No, I’m serious, you don’t have to.”

"I know,” Geralt answered, looking up at him. “I want to.”

“Okay. Okay. Just stop if it’s not good with you, right?”

“Right.”

He pulled Jaskier’s trousers down, not wasting any time. The curved line of his hardening cock was obvious under his underwear and Geralt slowed down, caressing the back of Jaskier’s thigh with one hand, the other moving up to his crotch. He palmed Jaskier through his boxer briefs (his navy blue boxer briefs) and was delighted to see him try to control his breathing through the surging wave of desire.

“Take them off for me?” Geralt asked, his voice rough with arousal.

Jaskier breathed out shakingly and slid his thumbs under the waistband, pulling his underwear down under Geralt’s relentless attention. Unable to stop himself, Jaskier took his own cock in hand and stroked himself, humming with pleasure with the first movement of his wrist. Geralt was sitting on his ankles, mesmerised.

“You like watching?” Jaskier asked, and even though the answer was pretty obvious, Geralt didn’t say it out loud. He raised to his knees, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s thighs, every breath softly tickling Jaskier’s skin, the hand maintaining its rhythm.

Moving upwards, Geralt’s tongue darted out to lick Jaskier’s balls, surprising him so much the back of his head hit the door, generating a moan which turned into a wince and then back into a moan again. Geralt’s smile shaped the kiss he pressed on Jaskier’s thigh as his fingers brushed through the man’s pubic hair, and slid up to find Jaskier’s hand, slowing it down.

Jaskier felt Geralt’s hot breath coming closer to his cock and had to bite his lower lip when the other man’s lips brushed against his fingers, kissing them one by one, silently asking him to let go. Jaskier didn’t need much convincing until, of course, fuck his goddamn unstoppable brain, a thought occurred to him.

“Wait!” he exclaimed and, at least, was blessed with the sight of Geralt looking up at him with surprise, his lips apart, tongue visible, and… Fuck, he looked so innocent and yet devilishly hot like this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Just- safety, right? You can, uh, get STIs. From, you know, sucking off someone unprotected. So you should be safe, you know.”

“Uh,” Geralt frowned. “Do you have STIs I should worry about?”

“No, I’m clean. I just mean, you know, in general.”

“I don’t need sex ed, Jaskier.”

“I know,“ he said, unconvincingly. "I’m just saying. Cause, like, it matters, and, you… well, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded even though he didn’t really. “Anything else?” he asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“Well, you shouldn’t take my word for it.”

“What?” Well, he only had himself to blame, right? He did ask.

“That I’m clean. I mean you can’t take people’s word for it, sometimes people just-”

“ Jaskier. I’ve slept with strangers before,” Geralt said bluntly, missing the brief pained look on Jaskier’s face at being classified as a stranger . “You’re clean. I’m clean. If you’re fine with this, I’m fine with this.”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. I am. Sorry,” Jaskier shook his head. “Did I just ruin it? It’s just, it matters you know, so I figured-”

“Jask. I get it. It’s fine,” Geralt said, rubbing his thumbs on each of Jaskier’s hip bones. “Can I suck your cock, now?” he asked softly. Jaskier’s worries disappeared from his mind instantly, and he nodded enthusiastically about twelve times above the consent limit.

Geralt took him into his hand and stroked him, slowly but firmly, further limiting his brain’s already diminished access to oxygen. Geralt’s other hand had reached out to fondle his ass and his fingers began to lightly drum along the back of Jaskier’s thigh, brushing softly, ghosting against his skin, and sending a brand new kind of sparks of want to Jaskier’s cock.

After a few strokes, Geralt brought his lips to the base of Jaskier’s shaft, kissing the hairs in a way one could have described as chaste if it hadn’t been happening so close to another man’s dick. He then proceeded to drop fuller kisses on the soft skin of Jaskier’s cock, pressing his lips against the skin almost reverently as his hand kept working Jaskier. When he was satisfied with the soft noises and the sound of fast breathing above him, he guided his hand back to the base of Jaskier’s cock, pumping a few times before guiding the tip of Jaskier’s dick to his mouth as he licked .

“Fffuck-” Jaskier gasped, and Geralt smiled.

Wetting his lips, he opened his mouth and wrapped it around the very tip of Jaskier’s cock, kissing it wetly, his tongue running against the underside. He let go, only to kiss the side of the head with an open mouth and then took Jaskier’s cock again.

As soon as he had run into Geralt at the bar, Jaskier had been both mindlessly infatuated and completely unsure what to expect. Geralt’s enthusiasm for learning to give head was definitely one of the things he didn’t see coming.

Geralt’s hand fondled his butt cheek again. As he pressed the tip of his fingers lightly against his sacrum, Jaskier sighed and angled his pelvis forward the way Geralt’s hand invited him to. Geralt took a slow breath through his nose, obviously trying to relax as much as he could as he moved forward, taking in a little more of Jaskier in his mouth and sliding his lips over the ring of Jaskier’s cock.

“Oh,” escaped from Jaskier’s lips as Geralt drew back slightly and took more of him again. “Oh darling, oh, yes, that’s good,” he stammered, caressing Geralt’s cheek before drawing back and slapping his hand against the door to ground himself and to restrain from grabbing the back of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt groaned softly at the loss, reaching out for Jaskier’s hand, closing his eyes as soon as he felt Jaskier’s touch again. He moaned as he kept sucking him slowly, clearly enjoying the guiding hand on his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” Jaskier moaned. His thumb rubbed softly against Geralt’s stubbly cheekbone before his hand slid against his cheek and jaw encouragingly. “Oh, that’s good, yeah that’s- Keep going, love,” he whispered again.

Biting his lower lip, Jaskier kept caressing Geralt’s cheek, whispering sweet nothings and sliding his fingers through the other man’s hair, convinced Geralt would have purred around his cock if he could.

"That’s really good, sweetheart,” and as Geralt enthusiastically took him a tad deeper, he just couldn’t help himself. “Oh, that’s my good boy ,” he moaned and Geralt all but choked on his dick.

Pulling back and resting a hand against the floor, half-slipping on his discarded coat, Geralt coughed and tried to get his breath back from choking on his own spit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry-” Jaskier kneeled by him hastily - and heavily . Having his jeans pooled around his knees wasn’t exactly helping him be graceful. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Geralt rasped, a bright shade of pink all over his face. He coughed again.

“Do you need a drink or something?”

Geralt laughed brokenly through a cough. “To help me forget I could have bitten your dick off?” he asked and Jaskier huffed.

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled, brushing away the hair across Geralt’s face as he leaned to kiss him. “This cock has seen worse.”

“That’s always comforting,” Geralt mumbled against his lips.

Jaskier laughed and caught his lips into another kiss, enjoying the way Geralt sighed comfortably, and held on to the back of his neck. His hand wandered to find the hem of Geralt’s shirt and slipped under his waistband before he arrived at a bright idea. “What if - and I know it’s going to be a very bold, and novel concept, but hear me out - what if we stopped using my front door and living room floor as acceptable fucking surfaces and straight out moved to the bed?”

“Hmm,” Geralt mused falsely. “Didn’t know there was anything straight about you,” he snarked and was met with a playful slap on the breast accompanied by Jaskier’s cackling laughter.

“Oh, look who’s talking now!”

They fumbled to get Jaskier back on his feet - “well I do love to spend time on my knees” - and got rid of the jeans which were annoyingly getting in their way, to then move on to the bedroom.

His bedroom, Jaskier decided, was absolutely ruined . Nothing would ever look better than Geralt sprawled on his bed, naked, his hard cock pressed against his lower belly. If Geralt ever decided to break things off with him - a thought which, despite people often calling him dramatic, he knew was perfectly realistic - Jaskier would have to change the room entirely. He would repaint the walls, get new furniture, burn the bed, maybe, or - to simplify - move places. No, there was no way a single soul could ever sleep on sheets which had touched Geralt’s skin without missing his presence like any respectable bard would miss their medieval lute.

At that moment, however, this bard was straddling Geralt’s lap, his arms around Geralt’s neck, while being held around his middle and kissed languorously. They were both naked, every inch of skin yearning to feel the other, and not a single thing was amiss.

“Would you like to touch yourself for me, darling?” Jaskier asked between two kisses, his voice low and syrupy.

A groan came from the bottom of Geralt’s throat and vibrated against Jaskier’s tongue.

“Fuck, I love the noises you make,” he whispered against Geralt’s lips, catching the man’s tongue in another open-mouth kiss.

Geralt started stroking his own cock and howled, and Jaskier broke the kiss unintentionally, unable to stop smiling at the sheer bestiality of the man.

Jaskier smacked his lips against Geralt’s a few more times as Geralt chased his mouth for more. Curving his hand around Geralt’s cheek, he kissed him one more time before slipping his thumb on his lips. He didn’t expect Geralt to kiss his finger, chastely, then lick its tip and lustfully take it in his mouth. Jaskier didn’t sigh as much as he whined .

“Would you prepare yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, making his intentions clearer, his voice a bit hesitant but hopeful.

Geralt let go of his thumb, letting Jaskier caress his lips lovingly. “Maybe it’s better if you do it,” he said, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s palm in an obvious attempt to hide his face.

“Is it?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt closed his eyes, something like regret written on his face.

“I’m not very good at it,” he grimaced.

“You’ve done it before?”

Geralt hummed, uncomfortable. “Since last time,” he clarified. “It didn’t really- I don’t know, maybe it’s not my thing,” he shrugged, still avoiding Jaskier’s eyes.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered, his voice coated with kindness, unable to stop himself as he tipped Geralt’s chin up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. “You can’t become a virtuoso on the first try,” he said.

Geralt frowned but then hid his discomfort behind a playful look. “Are you saying my ass is a musical instrument-”

“Shush, you!” Jaskier giggled. “I’m trying to be serious, for once!” he chastised him.

Geralt snickered and hid his face back into Jaskier’s hand, softly kissing his wrist.

“Maybe you had one of the best orgasms of your life the first time you rubbed one out but we , regular human beings, had to work for it,” he paused for more dramatic flair. “L ong and hard and again and again …” he wiggled his eyebrows and Geralt snorted. “We learn what feels good and what doesn’t. Just because you’re ol-” Geralt gave him a pointed look “ -der doesn’t mean you don’t need to get to know yourself.”

“Nice save,” Geralt deadpanned.

“I know, right? Almost seamless,” Jaskier smiled back, clearly full of shit, and went in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed. “I think I’d rather-” he hesitated, “get on with it, you know.”

“Get on with it?” It was Jaskier’s turn to raise an unconvinced eyebrow.

“Yeah, just get it done.”

“My, what a romantic you are,” Jaskier snickered and Geralt rolled his eyes, trying to make amends by rubbing Jaskier’s skin with his thumb where his hand rested on his hip.

“You just said it, first times suck. I just gotta- get through it and then, well. Hopefully, we get to the good stuff.”

“G- get through it ? You know this isn’t CrossFit, right?”

Geralt snorted. “You know what I mean,” Geralt said, then bit his lip as he frowned, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s. “You know I’m not-,” he waved his hand, “good at this.”

“Words?”

He puffed. “Yeah, words.”

“Yeah, I got that. I hear you.” Jaskier smoothly brushed a strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear. “There’s something else I heard. ‘First times suck’ ? Well challenge accepted, my dear,” he said and Geralt laughed as he kissed him again.

Geralt let himself be slowly pushed down to the bed as they kissed, his hands moving up Jaskier’s back, feeling the muscles along the way. His hand reached the back of Jaskier’s neck, covering it for a moment before he buried his fingers into the man’s hair as they softly ground against each other.

Jaskier slid his hand between them, giving both of their cocks a pull before moving lower. “Raise your legs for me, darling?” he asked in low tones, sliding his hands under Geralt’s knees. He could feel Geralt slightly tensing up as he set his feet to the mattress. It didn’t feel like it had anything to do with the scar Jaskier had brushed with his fingertips.

“Shouldn’t I be on my hands and knees?” he asked in a breath while Jaskier’s hands found their way back to his chest.

“You could,” he kissed a spot on his jaw, caressing Geralt’s pectoral. “You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier?” his voice was fairly tight and Jaskier faintly wondered if it was any clue to the state of his ass- and then kept the thought very much to his stupid dick-jokes self.

“Nah, not necessarily,” he whispered, trying to make his hands into a calming, solid presence against Geralt’s skin, caressing his breasts, his ribs, his clavicles, lining his scars with the care they deserved. Whichever God carved this man’s body, Jaskier swore to worship them until the end of his days.

“It can be straining to hold that position. Also…” Jaskier raised himself to face Geralt, picking up the man’s hand as it slipped over his shoulder and kissed the root of each finger. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said. “We don’t have to do it today.” He weaved his fingers between Geralt’s and kissed their tips. “And we don’t have to do it ever.”

Geralt’s face became closed off as he took a slow breath in, bolting up the gates before Jaskier had a chance to read him. He raised to meet Jaskier, his hand finding the perfect place at the back of his neck, and kissed him earnestly.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said against his lips.

“Yeah?” Jaskier gasped. “Got you, loud and clear,” Jaskier whispered and leaned into another kiss.

He broke away from Geralt to reach his nightstand drawer, pulling out some lube and condoms. He grabbed a pillow, invited Geralt to raise his hips and slid it underneath.

“Now, where was I?” he said under his breath, settling between Geralt’s legs and rubbing their bodies against each other. Geralt moaned and wrapped a leg around Jaskier’s pelvis, grinding back eagerly.

Holding his thigh with one hand, Jaskier began kissing his neck, licking and biting the skin at his throat, intending to take care of every inch of Geralt’s body. He licked one of Geralt’s nipples, extracting a moan from Geralt when he sucked and scraped his teeth against the strong muscle of his tit. Feeling Geralt slowly relax under his hands, he headed lower, kissing the pale hairy line that led from his navel to his cock.

He squeezed Geralt’s cock gently, carefully caressing the tip with his thumb and watching the precome spread, shiny against the soft skin. He looked up at Geralt as he moved his hand steadily up and down, a spark of ecstasy jumping from his heart to his cock at the sight of Geralt, eyes closed, biting his lower lip. Every moment assured Jaskier that pleasuring this man was actually his entire life’s purpose.

Geralt hummed with pleasure as Jaskier wrapped his lips around his cock, already struggling not to buck his hips when Jaskier took more of him in his mouth.

Jaskier couldn’t help but hum around his dick as he took it in, playing with depth and rhythm like a true maestro, his fingers threading through the light grey curls of Geralt’s pubes. He then let go of Geralt’s cock with an obscene pop that made him laugh and licked up from the spot right above Geralt’s balls.

Geralt’s hips stirred in both pleasure and surprise.

Jaskier got his hands back on the lube as he kissed and licked the man’s balls, encouraged by the whines and groans that escaped Geralt’s throat. He warmed his lubed fingers against each other and caressed Geralt’s ass with what he wouldn’t deny was absolute adoration. “Can I touch you, darling?” he asked, his voice a bit rough.

Geralt breathed a “yeah” and sounded almost like he was begging but Jaskier gracefully didn’t comment on it. (He, however, definitely took note.) Instead, he slid a hand between Geralt’s cheeks and brushed a finger against his hole as his mouth drove back down Geralt’s beautifully thick cock.

Jaskier teased a little, trying out different pressures against the man’s hole before the song of Geralt’s moans left no room for doubt. He slid his forefinger in while his other hand caressed Geralt’s inner thigh and finally felt the heat of Geralt’s body wrapped around his finger. He pulled back slightly and pushed again, this time steadily driving his finger deeper, synching his hand with the movements of his neck.

Despite Geralt’s frequent struggles with words, his gasps and moans were graced with great clarity and proved sufficient to let Jaskier know he was right to keep going. As far as non-verbal cues go, he also quickly found delight in feeling the walls of Geralt’s ass tightening around him and the taste of more precome coating his tongue.

“ Ah , your mouth,” Geralt moaned, reaching out and grasping onto Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier closed his eyes and moaned, aching for better friction than the bit of sheet he could rub his cock against. Grabbing the lube with one hand, he couldn’t help but jerk himself a couple of times as Geralt’s hand kept pulling his hair with each bop of his head.

Pointedly slowing down and looking up, he waited for Geralt’s attention to focus on him. He made a point of keeping their eyes locked as he shamelessly pulled up and let go of his cock. “D’you want another finger, honey?” he asked, perfectly aware of how depraved he had to look with his hair astray and his lips as probably as crimson as the tip of Geralt’s cock.

Geralt pulled him closer and met him with a crushing kiss as he nodded and moaned against Jaskier’s brow. “Hm- wait,” he breathed, holding Jaskier back as he started to let go, “I haven’t touched you at all,” he complained, his hands cupping Jaskier’s ass in a kind but firm grasp.

“Ah- It’s alright, love,” Jaskier said. “We’ve got time for that,” he smiled against Geralt’s lips but before he could leave again, Geralt grabbed his hand.

“I want you to feel as good as I do,” he breathed.

“Oh, trust me, darling, I’m feeling fantastic,” Jaskier grinned. They kissed one more time before Geralt let go of him and Jaskier drove his attention back to his lover’s lower body.

Geralt sighed as he settled his head back against his pillow, muttering something about how Jaskier was going to kill him.

Jaskier brought one hand at the base of Geralt’s cock, put his mouth back to work and fingered him a little while longer before adding another slick finger. Geralt whined and Jaskier reached out for his hand, threading their fingers together, hoping Geralt would know it was his way of checking in before Geralt sighed “ Yeah, s’good ,” in a tone that sounded pretty far gone.

He fucked Geralt with his fingers a few tentative times and curled them softly on the way out. In case he had any doubt his fingers were brushing against the right spot, Geralt’s hips jerked, driving his cock further down Jaskier’s throat.

“Ah, fuck ,” Geralt moaned. “Fuck, sorry,” slipped from his lips as if he was holding back so many more words.

Jaskier squeezed his hand in reassurance and kept sucking on Geralt’s dick until he could feel him tremble. He rubbed against Geralt’s prostate, drinking in every noise leaving the man’s lips, every movement revealing his pleasure.

“Ah, Jask,” Geralt moaned again, clutching to Jaskier’s hand like nothing would ever be able to make him let go. “Jas- Jaskier, ah , Jask, wait, I’m gonna-”

His hips buckled and his back raised from the mattress as he came, mouth open, gasping. He moaned and groaned as Jaskier kept fucking him onto his fingers until he was done spilling.

Jaskier slid his fingers out of Geralt’s ass, unable not to pull on his own cock even as he wiped off his mouth and tried to catch his breath, resting his forehead against the soft flesh of Geralt’s hip.

“Fuck,” Geralt whispered as he stretched, the last tingles of pleasure leaving his body. He brought his hands to his face, covering his blush and groaned “ fuck ” in a wholly different tone.

“Hey,” Jaskier gasped, slowing down the movements of his wrist and bringing his other hand to touch Geralt’s arm. “Hey, you alright?”

“Hmm,” he groaned from under his hands.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked and Geralt huffed.

“I just came like a teenager, darling ,” Geralt mumbled, the edge of his sarcasm largely smoothed out by post-coital bliss.

Jaskier chuckled. “No, you didn’t. You held up really well,” he said, caressing Geralt’s forearm. “My charms were simply too mighty for you to keep it in any longer,” he whispered, and kissed his other wrist and hand, hoping Geralt would emerge from his hiding place.

Geralt groaned again, unconvinced, but let his hand slip away when Jaskier kissed his knuckles, allowing the other man to paint his cheek with the sweet brush of his lips.

“I wanted you,” Geralt whispered, in a weak, almost plaintive way.

“I’m still right here, love,” Jaskier whispered back. “You still have me,” he said at the corner of Geralt’s lips, pressing his mouth softly against his. He found Geralt pressing back with the same tenderness then savouring the taste his own come on Jaskier’s tongue.

They stayed like this for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s arms, slowly kissing and holding each other.

“Do you need me?” Geralt asked after Jaskier buckled against his hips involuntarily.

“If your schedule allows it,” Jaskier joked, hiding his face in his neck and humming as he rubbed himself against Geralt.

“What do you want?” Geralt asked, caressing the length of Jaskier’s back, pressing his fingers along the muscles, waking up every fibre of Jaskier’s body.

“This,” Jaskier murmured, “This is perfect.”

He rubbed himself slowly against Geralt as the man covered him in caresses, the callousness of Geralt’s hands contrasting with the softness of his gestures. He ground against Geralt’s hip lazily, welcoming the pressure of Geralt’s hands on his ass, feeling the imprint of each finger into his flesh. His cock was still smeared with lube and the mess he’d spit onto Geralt’s pelvis made for a dirty, wonderful help.

“You look so good like this,” Geralt whispered, kissing a spot under his ear. “You feel so good against me,” he said softly, his tenderness almost making Jaskier come on the spot.

“ Ah , please, touch me,” he begged and Geralt reached for his cock like a servant knight, enthusiastically escorting him to rapture as Jaskier fucked into his hand again and again and again , his shout resonating through the bedroom as he came.

Geralt held him as Jaskier made his way back down, their bodies sweaty and well spent, comfortably intertwined.

After a while during which Jaskier’s mind drifted and fluttered between sleep and consciousness, he adjusted his body to kiss the side of Geralt’s jaw.

“Care to be introduced to my shower?” he asked sleepily.

“Hmm. Good call,” Geralt nodded, and pressed a kiss against his temple.

When Geralt walked out of the shower, freshly cleaned up and smelling like Jaskier’s lemon soap, his clothes were neatly arranged on the bed. He got dressed and followed the sound of Jaskier’s humming, finding him in the kitchen frowning at some delivery menus. He was biting his lip, seeming pretty conflicted and Geralt surprised himself thinking: shit, he’s cute.

He kept expecting to have a change of heart any minute now. It was, after all, bound to happen, the next logical step, the most probable outcome: one morning he would wake up and realise that surely this had all been fun but he wasn’t into it anymore. He just had gotten a bit confused and wasn’t actually feeling so much for this man- or any other man, or any other person for that matter.

After splitting up with Yen, he thought he’d never grow fond of someone enough to want anything (at least anything more than sex, but even sex was quite low on his list of priorities). With Jaskier, though- it was like every other day, Geralt would find another thing he’d like to share with the handsome man who had run into him and insisted on sticking around.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, noticing him in the doorway. “So I was thinking, either Casa Lauretta or Athumani’s Kitchen , what do you think? And before you say anything- I know , take out again, but I can’t both try to seduce you and subject you to my cooking.”

Geralt snorted. “You’ve had me in your bed already. Twice. ” he said, raising a playful eyebrow. “At what point will you consider me successfully seduced?”

“Uh, I don’t know, some time between the third dog and the second honeymoon, I guess?” Jaskier pretended to ponder.

Geralt blinked at him and his smile froze on his face. He often struggled with words to begin with but Jaskier mastered the art of leaving him speechless. Banter was his realm. Jaskier knew the terrain by heart and he revelled in it. He was light on his feet and quick on his toes. Every time Geralt tried to play his game and stepped towards Jaskier, the distance separating them seemed to grow.

He felt like a novice trying to catch up with a man who had hiked the trail his whole life, knew its twists and turns by heart. No matter how much he tried to relax and enjoy the sights by Jaskier’s side, he still felt the man would always be ahead of him. Like he would never be able to catch up and stay stuck in the land of the new and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. “What’s in these cupboards of yours?“ he asked, brushing past Jaskier to open a few of them. At first, the answer seemed to be both everything and not much at all . But after initial confusion, he realised Jaskier might actually have a system.

Items weren’t sorted by kind but rather by what goes well together: canned mushrooms next to rice, coconut milk next to curry powder, sliced bread between jam and mustard. He wasn’t sure why "365 Lesser-known Eastern Medieval Poems” was stacked with cereals, or why Jaskier’s watch was in a bowl, but he could find out with time.

Something tickled the back of his neck and he realised Jaskier was playing with his hair, a bit of a smitten look on his face. As Geralt looked at him, Jaskier froze and blushed.

“Sorry,” he said, retreating his hand. “I love your hair,” he said sheepishly.

“I lost my hairband somewhere,” Geralt said, looking around.

“It looks good like this too,” Jaskier said. “Pretty sure it looks good all the time,” he smiled and brushed an escapee strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear.

And here it was: another immensely confusing thing about Jaskier. The man radiated self-confidence 99% of the time. He could bathe in the attention of a crowd, flirt shamelessly with a complete stranger and whisper the filthiest words, dirtiest things- he could fantasize out loud about getting married to a man he’d only known for a few weeks. Yet there was also a shyness about the smallest of things, a vulnerability . It made Geralt want to pick him up and take him to safety- and he was perfectly aware of how ridiculous that sounded. But it felt like maybe, Jaskier’s hidden, more reserved side was a path where they could meet halfway.

He leaned towards him and kissed the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

Jaskier smiled and his whole face illuminated. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good,” Geralt nodded, taking his attention back to the cupboard. And so here he was again, taking a step back on what had started to feel like a comfortable route and stiffly navigating in between the metaphorical potholes on the road leading to Jaskier. As it turned out, talking about how his ass felt after getting fingered was not Geralt’s forte either. But Jaskier - in a moment of extreme humility - had described himself as a master of words and rhythm and that’s exactly what he was. He could use any word, touch upon any topic, express any emotion. Jaskier had a whole planisphere at his disposal, a means to take any road; Geralt had shitty directions and a compass that only told North once in a blue moon.

“No pain?”

“No,” he answered, closed the cupboard and exited Jaskier’s personal space to grab the menus. “Maybe delivery’s better, you’re right,” he said.

“Hmm,” Jaskier answered. “You do that a lot,” he pointed out.

Geralt gave him a look above his shoulder. “What?”

“Changing topics. Avoiding conversations,” Jaskier explained lightly. His tone was not judgemental. He was merely making an observation.

And so, “I’m not,” Geralt lied. He only realised he had lied the second he heard himself. Fuck . “I didn’t realise there was more to say.” Less of a lie. Not quite a half-truth.

Jaskier sighed softly and settled next to Geralt, pressing his forearms against the kitchen counter. "Margherita, then?” he asked. Geralt could see the tight shape of his lips and the square angle of his shoulders. Jaskier had obviously seen right through him but was dropping the subject for his sake.

“You’re disappointed,” he said and Jaskier’s head shot back up to look at him.

“With the pizza options?” Jaskier joked weakly.

“With,” he hesitated. “Me.”

“No-” Jaskier argued right away, raising his hand to cut him off. But Geralt knew how it was, what people expected, not unfairly, versus how little he could offer.

“It’s fine,” Geralt said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I-,” he paused to weigh his words carefully, eyes focused on the menus. "I’m not very good at-” he hesitated then snorted under Jaskier’s confused look. “ Opening up ?” he said, raising an eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction.

Jaskier laughed and reached out to rest his hand over Geralt’s. “Well, we’ve talked about this,” he said, with a shine in his eyes. “Practice makes better.” Geralt hummed, looking at Jaskier’s hand over his. To his surprise, Jaskier retracted his hand somewhat suddenly and he missed the weight of it right away. “And it’s not like we know each other that well, as you said,” he shrugged, at the edge of Geralt’s field of vision.

“I am ok,” he said, answering Jaskier’s previous question more honestly. “Bit weird but ok.” His brain then caught up with Jaskier’s words a moment too late; as you said ?

"Okay,” Jaskier said, offering a shy smile. “I- it’s okay if it doesn’t come naturally to you. I just- well, I’d just like you to be more comfortable with me. But we’ll get there, right?”

Geralt swallowed, closing and opening the hand that was resting on the counter to get rid of a slight tremor. Saying yes would have been another lie. He couldn’t make that promise. He had tried before, thought that maybe if he forced himself to be enough then things would work out eventually- but they hadn’t.

And so it would have been easy to say no , to back off entirely. He could tell Jaskier he wasn’t interested in building something, just wanted an easy fuck, to experiment a bit, and had simply gotten lucky enough to find a guy who wasn’t repelled by his shitty personality and off-putting scars. It would have been so easy- to tell Jaskier, “I don’t know what you thought you were getting out of this, but you won’t get me .” It was complete and absolute bullshit, a sad pack of lies, but it would be so much easier. He could get back to his life, his job, his kid and the handful of friends he still had, and never think about blue eyes or milkshakes again.

If only the thought didn’t make him nauseous.

Fuck, he wanted this.

“This isn’t casual for you, is it?” he asked, voice tight, and Jaskier startled, almost taking a step back. His face made an odd succession of expressions and he opened his mouth a couple of times before closing it again.

“I- I can be casual. I can be very casual. That’s not a problem, that’s not a- but I-,” he sighed and brushed his hand through his hair nervously. “Fuck, you really don’t fuck around, do you?” Geralt tried to come up with something to say but Jaskier shook his head, his voice way calmer now even if a bit wavering. “No. No, I don’t think I want to be casual with you. And- And you- you don’t w-”

“Me neither,” Geralt cut in before panic took over Jaskier.

The man’s eyes grew a little wider. “You neither?” he asked, and fuck if that wasn’t the most obvious display of naked hope Geralt had ever seen on anybody’s face.

Geralt shook his head and Jaskier seemingly had to fight a full-body shiver.

Jaskier walked the two steps separating them and kissed Geralt with his entire soul. When he pulled back, Geralt leaned into him again for another taste of his tongue. He brought a hand to Jaskier’s cheek and kissed him with feeling. When they parted, he kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s, the tip of his fingers grazing the short hair behind his ear.

“I’m not used to wanting…” Geralt said. “Sex is good. But usually I don’t- I don’t want more. With you, I- I don’t want to ru- to leave . And it’s…”

“Weird, isn’t it?” Jaskier offered, his voice tight but tone playful. The shy smile on his lips was a delicious cherry on top, making the teasing even softer. (Little did Jaskier know that a cherry was the only thing in Geralt’s opinion that could ever improve a creamy vanilla milkshake.)

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier kissed him, and after working through so many words, Geralt ran out of things to say. “So, yeah. Margherita’s good,” he whispered, and it was his turn to make Jaskier laugh. The man cleared his throat and sighed like a weight had been taken off his chest.

“I can’t believe you said all that before even knowing Lauretta delivers vanilla milkshakes,” he said and Geralt poked him in the ribs until they half-wrestled, laughing, Jaskier’s back hitting the fridge- and they were kissing again.

They talked over dinner for a while. Jaskier came up with questions for Geralt to answer, helping him ease into a casual conversation. They teased and flirted and laughed, and soon ended up in bed again, tasting each other’s skin and leaning into each other’s curves.

“Full disclosure?” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s mouth as he was straddling him. “I really fucking love those tits of yours,” he said, cupping Geralt’s chest with his two hands. Geralt scoffed in between two kisses.

“They’re called pecs,” he said, enjoying the way Jaskier’s hands were basically venerating his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Jaskier replied, “I, good sir, am an artist, not an anatomist, and these are definitely some of the most magnificent boobies I have ever had the chance to see, touch and lick,” he said, brushing a nipple with his thumb while kissing Geralt’s jaw.

Geralt snorted and kept caressing Jaskier’s incredibly precious ass.

Jaskier sighed with contentment. “So, tell me your secret,” he mumbled against Geralt’s skin, finding a tendon in Geralt’s neck and following it with his lips, tongue and teeth. “How does a corporate lawyer get as buff as you?”

Geralt’s laugh was more of a scoff as he felt the more-or-less accidental brush of Jaskier’s cock against his.

“You’re one to talk,” he groaned, getting his hand into Jaskier’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. “Have you seen yourself, Professor?”

Jaskier suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “I- well- I mean I’m nothing close to- Your body is,” he huffed, seemingly at loss for words which was a very odd thing coming from Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, bringing his hand to the small of the man’s back, and squinted. “You know you’re hot, right?” he asked seriously and witnessed Jaskier dissolve into a fit of giggles, ducking his head and blushing even harder.

“I’m- nah, I’m not-”

“ Jaskier ,” Geralt repeated with intent.

“I mean, I’m fine but I’m not- you’re like a, a- an underwear supermodel.”

Geralt snorted. “Right, they do love bodies covered with scar tissue in underwear magazines,” he said self-deprecatingly, making Jaskier frown.

“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he chastised.

“If you say so-” Geralt shrugged.

“I do say so. Les Dessous de Beauclair can go fuck itself,” Jaskier replied and Geralt snorted again.

“Point still stands,” Geralt said. “You’re hot.”

Jaskier looked away again, biting his lower lip. “Wh-,” he started and then closed his mouth right away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Jaskier? I’m the one who isn’t much of a talker. There can’t be two of us,” he said, and Jaskier laughed, then hid his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s shoulders.

“What do you like about me?” he asked, his voice so small Geralt barely heard him. He let a moment pass, wondering where to start and how. He slid a hand at the back of Jaskier’s neck, caressing the short strands of hair.

“This,” he said. “Your hair right here. It’s short but long enough that I can grab it,” he felt Jaskier smile against his neck.

” Kinky ,“ Jaskier whispered.

“And I like your eyes,” Geralt said, too focused on picking the right words to get sidetracked. “At the bar, I-” he hesitated, pacing himself. “I noticed your eyes first,” he said and swallowed.

Jaskier hugged him tighter. “I love your eyes too,” he mumbled into Geralt’s hair. "They’re incredible.”

Geralt managed to duck his head and press a soft kiss below Jaskier’s ear. “Your cheekbones,” he said, his mouth finding the sweet spot at the base of Jaskier’s neck. “Your shoulders,” he whispered, kissing Jaskier’s clavicle, loosening their embrace to keep going lower. “Your collarbones,” he nipped his teeth at the bone above Jaskier’s chest, “they’re really, really hot,” he said and Jaskier giggled, still hiding his face by pressing his forehead against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt brought his hands up Jaskier’s back and felt him shiver, Jaskier’s hips startling gently against his, bringing a soft moan from the both of them. “Your back,” he said, “I really love your back- and your ass, gods ,” he linked his hands behind Jaskier’s neck and rolled his hips, their moans echoing through the room. “ Ah , and those fucking arms of yours,” Geralt whispered. “Have you seen those arms?” he repeated, still softly rubbing their cocks together with slow movements of his hips and caressing Jaskier’s arm. “I’m sure you could lift me up with those arms,” he said and Jaskier groaned. “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you- would you like to hold me up and fuck me?”

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moaned, his face pressed against Geralt’s cheek. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes please, yes,” he begged, and Geralt grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and pulled just enough for Jaskier to whine with pleasure as they both rushed in an almost bruising kiss.

Jaskier had a hard time pulling away from Geralt, but finally managed to turn towards the bedside table to retrieve lube and condoms.

Geralt flushed himself against his back, tearing a moan from Jaskier as his hand directly went for Jaskier’s cock and Geralt’s dick rubbed against his ass.

“Oh fuck, yeah- yeah , we gotta do this some time too, darling,” he panted and Geralt groaned, grinding against him.

“You would like that?” he breathed, his voice low and coated with desire.

“Gods, I’d fuck you anyway you want, darling-” he moaned, “-but fffuck , if you keep going, there isn’t going to be much left of me.”

Geralt chuckled against him. He pulled back, freeing Jaskier from his embrace and sitting back against the wall.

Jaskier kneeled in between his legs and tore the package open, sliding the condom on his cock, realising after raising his eyes that he was under Geralt’s scrutiny.

“You okay?” he asked at the exact moment Geralt breathed “Come here.”

Somehow they crashed into each other, and yet fit each other’s shapes perfectly.

Geralt raised on his knees, thighs parted, Jaskier’s hands moving from his cock to his balls, making his hips jerk and his teeth close on Jaskier’s lower lip as he moaned. Jaskier slid his fingers further, caressing the sweet spot of Geralt’s perineum, making Geralt break the kiss as he gasped.

“Fuck, please, Jask-”

“I’ve got you,” Jaskier murmured, kissing him again and coating his fingers with lube.

Geralt tried his hardest not to jerk himself off here and now, attempting to focus on rubbing Jaskier’s cock while his other arm rested around the man’s neck.

Jaskier teased the rim of his asshole and got a quick return on his investment as Geralt pulled a little harder on his dick, tearing a moan from his lips. He chuckled a bit breathlessly and slid a finger inside Geralt easily. It didn’t take long at all before a second finger joined the first.

“You okay, darling?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt nodded against his cheek.

For a while, they stayed like this, settled against each other, Jaskier slowly fingering him until Geralt couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers and asking for more.

When three fingers curved into him and caressed his prostate, Geralt thought he was going to come undone. “Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaskier-,”

“Good?” Jaskier asked a bit worriedly.

“Fuck, yes , good,” Geralt bit in a tone that was halfway between “how the fuck could it be anything but good” and “don’t you fucking dare stop” , making Jaskier laugh again.

“Okay, darling- still love the enthusiasm,” Jaskier said while Geralt whined and begged until finally, fucking finally, Jaskier agreed he was ready. Jaskier slid between his thighs, his strong, well-built arms around Geralt’s middle and Geralt realised it was probably the first time he had been held like this in his entire life.

“Touch yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, his mouth against Geralt’s before Geralt shook his head.

“Can’t- gonna come if I do,” he breathed and Jaskier kissed him again.

“Please?” he asked. “I want to make sure it feels good,” he whispered, holding onto Geralt’s middle tighter.

Geralt complied and before long Jaskier’s hips were rising to meet his body. He felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock slide between his buttcheeks and touch the soft of his ass and he startled, pulling away and pressing back against Jaskier just as fast.

“Fuck,” he swore as Jaskier whined. “Please, Jask,” he moaned as the hand on his cock started shaking. He then felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock against him again, and the steady push of Jaskier’s hips as the head of Jaskier’s cock entered him. He whined as Jaskier pushed further and lowered himself as slow as he could with the lone strength of his thighs and Jaskier’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Ok?” Jaskier asked breathlessly. A gasp was all Geralt managed. His thoughts were an endless thread of fuck fuck fuck he couldn’t sort out in any order. “Yea- ah,” he broke, “ fuck ,”

“Is it too much?” Jaskier asked, “I can- I can stop, do you need me to stop?”

“ Don’t ,” Geralt moaned, clenching every single muscle in his body to keep Jaskier against him and eliciting a cry from Jaskier. His arms were around Jaskier’s shoulders, his forehead against the man’s temple. Geralt was holding onto him with everything he got.

“I just-” he tried to take a slow long breath thinking about everything he had learned through meditation and managed one ragged breath. “You’re a lot,” he managed in a sigh, clenching around Jaskier despite how much he tried to relax.

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat half-way between pleasure and laughter. “I get that all the time,” he said cheekily.

“Don’t- don’t make me laugh,” he said, chuckling breathlessly, and Jaskier joined him, both trying to breathe through the involuntary clenching of Geralt’s inner muscles and the accidental movements of Jaskier’s hips.

They laughed into each other’s mouths as they kissed, mouth open, tongues licking each other’s lips, teeth biting softly, teasingly. When they were both ready, Jaskier pulled himself down as he helped Geralt raise on his knees and they met again, moaning and groaning.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered again and by then, Geralt had no fucking idea. He had never felt so tense and relaxed at once, uncomfortable but so fucking fantastic. His nerves and his ass were on absolute fire but it was good, it was good, it was so, so-

“So good,” he growled, aware that every part of his body was probably shaking in Jaskier’s arms. “ Ah , don’t stop,” he moaned, and Jaskier, incredible, astonishing, wonderful Jaskier did not stop .

Their hips moved in sync, feeding Geralt with the kind of friction he had never imagined could feel so good.

He let himself relax entirely into Jaskier’s embrace, sliding against the whole length of Jaskier’s body, pressing torso against torso, his forehead against Jaskier’s sweaty fringe, their noises brushing, their mouths breathing the same air.

“Ye-ah?” Jaskier moaned. “You like it? You really- ah , fuck- you- ah , you feel so good, does it feel good, tell me-” he rambled, far, so far from actually needing the reassurance.

Geralt groaned. “ Yes ,” he whined, “I like it, I like it, I like you , please,” and Jaskier whined and then did something- Geralt didn’t know, something, somehow, maybe went harder or faster or different, but he pulled and pushed and Geralt lost his fucking mind. He did it again and again, kissing Geralt, licking his neck, biting on his earlobe, caressing his nipples, bruising his hips in his grasp, pulling on his cock, whispering into his ear and making him whine and moan and shout until Geralt begged to be undone.

“I’ve got you, love,” Jaskier said, “I’ve got you.” Jaskier pulled harder on his hips in a half-broken groan, making Geralt slip towards him a little more.

Geralt arched his back, moaning in delight from the new angle. His neck was left exposed for Jaskier to kiss and lick, and breathe against Geralt’s skin. Every cell in Geralt’s body was burning and electric, and boiling. Everything felt so good and so much and so Jaskier , so he begged, begged again, and again for Jaskier to hold him and kiss him and fill him as he came, and so he did. He came, held, and kissed, and filled, and perfect, and Jaskier came, too, gasping into his mouth as they fell into each other.

For a moment, there was no other sound apart from the unsteady breathing and an occasional moan from the two of them as they slowly, comfortably, came back down to earth. Jaskier moved first, turning his head to kiss Geralt’s cheek, pushing his long white hair away from his face, and Geralt turned his head lazily towards him, leaning into a kiss.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered, probably for the hundredth time and Geralt, for the thousandth time, hummed and nodded. Soon they would detach from each other, groaning from the discomfort of their sensible muscles, their come-dirtied bellies and lube-stained sheets anything but glamorous.

But for the time being, they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders, eyes closed, content with the feeling of holding and being held.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered.

Geralt hummed questioningly.

“Stay for breakfast?” Jaskier asked. He missed the soft smile that drew on Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #the witcher fic #the witcher #bisexual geralt of rivia #bottom geralt of rivia #top jaskier #my writing #mine: no warnings #mine: geraskier #mine: modern au #mine: of fingers tongues and toes series

52 notes · View notes