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pretzel-box · 2 months ago

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In case I haven't told you: I love you.

Streamer AU Chapter 10 [Finale]

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Established Relationship

Words: 9,4k

Authors Note: This is the official last chapter for this series and my blog. Thank you all for your support.

You sat on a chair at the kitchen counter, tinkering with your new keyboard. All the keycaps were pulled off as you swapped the old, plain ones for a custom set of resin-poured, sparkling caps. You’d spent a small fortune on these, enough to make even Sebastian raise an eyebrow as he walked by to grab a cup of coffee.

"You know, one of those caps could pay for my whole breakfast," he remarked, leaning over your shoulder and picking up one of the keys—the ESC key. It was a deep lapis lazuli blue mixed with a golden hue, with tiny koi fish suspended inside. The tiny keycap was a masterpiece all on its own, and even Sebastian’s gaze lingered a moment longer as he examined it.

You laughed, rolling your eyes as Sebastian inspected the tiny piece of art between his fingers. "I don’t hear you complaining when I splurge on things for you." You teased, nudging his arm playfully.

He smirked, setting the keycap down carefully, but not before his fingers brushed yours, lingering just a moment too long. "True, but I at least pretend to be reasonable about it." He countered, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin.

You arched an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh, is that so? I seem to remember a certain someone nearly buying an entire set of limited-edition streaming lights last month."

He chuckled, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Only because I knew it would make my streamer setup look amazing." His eyes sparkled as he held your gaze, the playful teasing fading just slightly, replaced with something softer, warmer.

"Well." You replied, trying to keep your composure despite the flutter in your chest, "Maybe I got these just to impress my favorite…roommate."

Sebastian laughed, a rich sound that made the moment feel more intimate. "Guess that means we both have good taste, then." he murmured, his fingers still lightly brushing against yours, as if neither of you wanted to pull away first.

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you glanced over to the corner of the room, where Sebastian’s laundry basket sat conspicuously overflowing. "Good taste, sure." You replied, smirking. "Though maybe your taste in doing laundry could use some improvement."

Sebastian groaned, leaning back against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. "I knew there was a catch to all this charm."

"You’re lucky I didn’t toss it all in the tub and call it ‘artistic installation.’" You teased, poking him playfully. "But hey, since you’re such a reasonable spender, maybe you can be reasonable about getting those clothes folded sometime this century?"

He raised an eyebrow, smirking as he folded his arms. "Maybe if someone would promise to make dinner while I do it?"

You feigned a thoughtful look, tapping your chin as you eyed him. "Fine. But only if it’s one of those nights where you’re my sous-chef." You said. "You know, like last time, when you almost sliced your finger but made the best pasta I’ve ever tasted."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Deal. Just don’t get too used to me in the kitchen—I don’t want you thinking this roommate thing comes with free cooking classes."

You snickered, leaning a little closer. "Oh, please, you love being my sous-chef. Plus, I think I caught you enjoying it last time."

He shrugged, pretending nonchalance. "Maybe I did." He said, his voice low, his gaze flicking between you and the pile of ingredients waiting on the counter. "Guess I don’t mind spending a little extra time with my favorite chef."

"Alright, hun." You replied, giving him a playful nudge toward the fridge. "Let’s get to work before we both end up ordering takeout."

You pulled out a recipe card, tapping it on the counter thoughtfully as Sebastian finished stacking his laundry basket against the wall. “Tonight,” you announced, “we’re making risotto.”

Sebastian’s face lit up with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Risotto, huh? I thought that was, like, advanced level.”

You gave him a mock serious nod. “It is, but don’t worry—under my expert guidance, I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge.” You winked, grabbing an apron and tossing one his way. He caught it midair and slipped it over his head, looking surprisingly domestic in the soft light of the kitchen.

The two of you moved around the kitchen, gathering ingredients. Sebastian was on vegetable duty, meticulously chopping onions and garlic, his brows furrowed as he concentrated. You snuck a peek at his handiwork, grinning.

“Not bad.” You said approvingly, bumping his shoulder with yours. “I think you’re getting the hang of this.”

“Only because I have an exceptional teacher.” He replied smoothly, flashing you a grin. “Though,” he added with a chuckle, “I’m pretty sure you gave me onions just to make me cry.”

You laughed, watching him chop with surprising finesse. “I have a weakness for pretty boys with tears in their lashes. Onions aside, I think you’re ready to take on the mushrooms.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at the bowl of fresh mushrooms with a dramatic sigh. “You’re sure this isn’t just you delegating all the tough parts?”

“Maybe.” You said with a smirk. “But also, mushrooms need love, and you seem like the right person for the job.”

While he chopped mushrooms, you turned your attention to heating up a pot of vegetable broth on the stove. The savory aroma of garlic and onion began to fill the kitchen, and you stirred the mixture in a pan, glancing over at Sebastian as he focused intently on his task.

After a while, he leaned over to inspect your progress, watching as you stirred the rice, coating it in the golden mix of garlic, onion, and butter. “Looks like you’re the expert risotto-stirrer.” He teased, resting his chin on your shoulder for a brief moment. “When do I get to try?”

You nudged him with your elbow, laughing. “Soon, sous-chef. I have to make sure it’s just right.”

He watched, fascinated, as you added a ladle of hot broth to the pan, explaining as you went. “See? You don’t add it all at once. You let each addition of broth absorb before adding more. It’s all about patience.”

“Patience?” he repeated, giving you an amused look. “Not exactly my strongest trait.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting him a grin. “Well, consider this your culinary crash course in patience.”

For the next twenty minutes, you took turns stirring and adding broth, chatting in between as you shared old memories, random stories, and silly jokes. There was something intimate about the process, each of you moving with careful rhythm, enjoying each other’s company in the warm, quiet space of the kitchen.

"Remember that time we played that cooking game on stream with just one arm each? And you fried a rat?" Sebastian laughed, recalling the iconic moment. It was one of your very first streams together.

You gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me! You told me to be culinarily creative for our dear customers."

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back against the counter, his laughter warm and unrestrained. "Oh, I remember. How could I forget? You had the chat in absolute stitches when you served that poor pixelated rat like it was a five-star dish."

You placed a hand over your chest, feigning offense. "Excuse me! I was merely following instructions. You explicitly told me to be ‘culinarily creative for our loving customers.’ I just… took it to heart."

Sebastian wiped a tear from his eye, still grinning. "And you succeeded, alright. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so passionate about frying something that was absolutely, one hundred percent not food." He mimed holding a frying pan, doing his best impression of you earnestly plating up the rat. “Gourmet rat, fresh from the chef’s hands.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his impression, remembering how you’d tried so hard to keep a straight face on stream, while the chat had been exploding with laughter. "Hey, I’d like to point out that I even garnished it with a sprinkle of virtual parsley."

"Yeah, and I had to pretend it was edible." Sebastian replied, still grinning. "The things I do for the art of streaming."

With a grin, you shrugged. “Guess it just shows what a great team we make, right? You keep up appearances, and I…” You paused, smirking, “I make the riskiest, most questionable food decisions.”

He looked down at you, his smile softening as he held your gaze. "Yeah." He murmured, "I guess it really does. We’re one heck of a team."

There was a gentle silence, one filled with warmth, as you both let the memories linger, the familiarity and playfulness wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. After a moment, you nudged his arm. "So, cooking game or real life—think you’re ready for another ‘creative’ culinary adventure with me?"

He chuckled, leaning a little closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Only if you promise me no rats this time."

At one point, he reached over and brushed a stray bit of flour off your cheek, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You’ve got a little something there.” He murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a soft expression that made your heart skip a beat.

“Thanks.” you replied, your voice a little softer than intended.

With the risotto nearly ready, you handed him a wooden spoon. “Alright, sous-chef. Moment of truth—taste test.”

Sebastian took the spoon from you, giving you an exaggerated nod before taking a careful bite. His eyes lit up as he tasted the creamy, savory dish. “Wow,” he said, nodding appreciatively. “I actually helped make this? Totally doesn't taste like pixel rat.”

“See?” you replied, laughing. “You’ve got more culinary skills than you think.”

He laughed, taking another spoonful. “Okay, I’ll admit, this is pretty fun. You might turn me into a chef yet.”

Together, you plated the risotto, sprinkling a bit of parmesan and fresh parsley on top. You each carried a plate to the small dining table, which you’d quickly decorated with a candle and a couple of mismatched napkins to make it feel a bit more special.

Sitting across from him, you clinked your fork against his with a grin. “To our first official cooking date.” You said, feeling a mix of pride and warmth.

“To the world’s most patient teacher.” He added, giving you a smile that made your cheeks warm.

You ate slowly, savoring not just the food, but the easy conversation and gentle glances shared between bites. Occasionally, he’d sneak his fork onto your plate, taking an extra bite with a laugh as you swatted at his hand.

After finishing, you both lingered at the table, caught in the comfortable glow of shared laughter and the lingering warmth of the meal. Finally, as you stood to clear the plates, Sebastian reached over, gently grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“You know.” he said softly, his gaze holding yours, “I think I’m starting to like cooking. Especially if it means nights like this.”

His hand stayed warm against your skin, and for a moment, you forgot about the dishes, the kitchen, everything around you.

“Well.” you replied with a smile, “Then I guess we’ll have to make it a tradition.”

He nodded, his smile softening as he released your hand, but not before giving it a light, lingering squeeze that promised many more evenings like this one.

The laughter still lingered in the air as you finished washing up from dinner, the lingering warmth from the meal creating a quiet, comfortable bubble around the two of you. Sebastian was drying the last of the dishes, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he talked about what to stream next week, teasing the idea of recreating your infamous “gourmet rat” moment in real life.

But then, a sharp knock echoed from the front door, slicing through the ease of the evening. You both paused, glancing at each other, puzzled by the unexpected sound. Who would be stopping by at this hour?

“I’ll get it.” He murmured, his voice low, as he dried his hands on a dish towel. You watched as he walked toward the door, pulling it open with a curious, cautious expression. But when he looked up, his whole face shifted. There, standing in the dim light of the hallway, were two police officers. Their stern faces were blank, unreadable, and behind them, a few more officers were stationed just outside. The sight of them sent an uneasy chill through you, and your stomach twisted.

“Sebastian Solace?” The officer closest to him asked, voice flat and all business. Sebastian blinked, bewildered.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” He asked, looking back at you as if trying to gauge if you knew anything about this. But before you could even register the question, the officer took a step forward, holding out a pair of handcuffs. It was like a perfect scene from your favourite drama, as if the characters jumped out of the television to fool you.

“Mr. Solace, you’re under arrest on suspicion of multiple homicides.” The officer said, his words like thunder in the silent apartment. “Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

The words took a moment to sink in, and when they did, it felt like the air had been ripped from the room. You stood frozen, mouth open, as Sebastian’s face went from confusion to utter shock.

“What?” He stammered, voice thick with disbelief. “There must be some mistake—I haven’t done anything. I don’t even—” But the officer was already reaching for his wrists, pulling them behind his back as he clicked the cuffs into place with a heavy metallic clink that reverberated in the space. The sound was sharp, final.

"Wait!" You exclaimed, stepping forward as panic washed over you. “This is insane! You can’t just—he hasn’t done anything! Sebastian couldn’t—”

The second officer turned toward you, his gaze steely. “Ma’am, I understand this is a shock, but please step back. We have probable cause, and Mr. Solace will be given the chance to explain himself at the station.”

Sebastian’s head turned, eyes wide as they locked onto yours. "I… I don’t know what’s going on," He said, his voice wavering as he struggled to keep calm. "I didn’t… I didn’t do anything." His eyes, usually filled with easy confidence and warmth, were filled with a mixture of confusion and fear, a look you had never seen on his face before.

“I know you didn’t.” You managed, voice choked. “This has to be a mistake. Tell them!”

But the officers were unmoved, beginning to guide him out the door, leaving you standing in the hallway, rooted in disbelief. You reached for his hand one last time, and he turned to you, gripping your fingers tightly, as if that small touch was an anchor. “It’s okay.” He said quietly, though the panic in his voice was clear. “I’ll sort this out. Don’t… don’t worry about me.”

But how could you not? How could you let them take him, when you knew deep down, in every part of you, that Sebastian was incapable of such a thing?

As they led him out, each step growing heavier, you were left alone in the silence, the stillness deafening. Sebastian’s plate was still on the table, his jacket draped over the back of the chair. It was as if he had only stepped out for a moment, and yet, he was gone. You could still feel the lingering warmth of his hand in yours, the echo of his words ringing in your mind.

You stumbled back against the counter, struggling to breathe as the weight of what just happened settled on you. Someone had framed him. Someone had set up this impossible, unfathomable trap, and Sebastian had walked right into it. And now, the life you’d built together—the quiet mornings, the shared streams, the countless inside jokes—all of it hung in the balance.

“Sebastian…” You whispered, gripping the edge of the counter as if you could steady yourself through sheer will. Your mind raced, images of him, terrified and alone, the weight of this false accusation pressing down on him. You had to do something. You couldn’t just stand by while the man you loved was being treated like a monster.

But as you looked around the quiet, empty apartment, you felt the sinking realization that things would never be the same. The warmth and laughter of the evening had been replaced by a cold, harsh reality, one that you couldn’t ignore. And as you stood there, a single, urgent thought echoed in your mind, louder and louder with each passing second. This couldn't be how it ends.

Hours passed in a blur, each moment more surreal than the last. You sat at the kitchen table, hands clutching a mug of tea you hadn’t even touched. The entire apartment was in disarray: Police officers moved from room to room, rifling through closets, drawers, and even the cabinets in search of… what? Evidence of Sebastian’s so-called crimes?

The entire scene felt like a waking nightmare. You watched in despair as they moved into Sebastian’s room, handling his belongings like they were pieces of some sinister puzzle, prying through his private life without hesitation. The familiar warmth and comfort of the apartment was stripped away, replaced by the cold efficiency of strangers treating your life as a crime scene.

“Ma’am?” A voice jolted you from your thoughts. One of the officers, Detective Hall, took the seat across from you, fixing you with a hard, calculating stare. He placed a notepad on the table and flipped it open, pen poised, ready to capture your every word. This wasn't just a small round of questions. It felt like the pen was a gun that he was holding against your forhead, wanting you to say that he wanted to hear and not the truth you believed in.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steel yourself. “I already told you.” You said, voice barely above a whisper, it was slightly shaking from the pressure. Your whole personality crumbled under the sheer panic. “Sebastian didn’t do this. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Detective Hall tilted his head, his lips curling into a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you want to believe that, but I have to be honest. The evidence suggests otherwise.”

You swallowed, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He’s kind, thoughtful… there’s no way he’d ever—”

“Let’s go over this again.” The detective interrupted, his tone patient yet cold. “You’ve been living with Mr. Solace for some time, yes?”

“Yes.” You answered, nodding slowly. “Some time...”

“And during that time, have you ever noticed anything… unusual about him? Unexplained absences, strange behavior, anything that might seem insignificant but could have been a red flag?”

The question felt like a trap, and you shook your head quickly, heart pounding. “No. Nothing like that. He’s just—he’s always been a good person. A little messy with his stuff sometimes, but that’s it. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.” Any wrong word could mean Sebastians end. Saying less means providing more support for your boyfriend.

Detective Hall leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Are you sure you’re not trying to protect him? It’s natural to want to defend someone close to you, but sometimes… people can hide dark sides we don’t see.”

“No, you don’t understand—Sebastian’s innocent.” You insisted, feeling the words burn on your tongue. “He wouldn’t—”

“But he did.” Hall’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air with brutal efficiency. He fired the imaginary gun at you with the following statement. “We’ve found DNA evidence at multiple crime scenes that match Mr. Solace’s. His fingerprints, his hair… even traces of his blood.”

The room spun for a moment as his words hit you like a physical blow. You gripped the edge of the table, forcing yourself to process the revelation. DNA evidence? It made no sense. How could that be possible?

“That… that can’t be right.” You stammered, shaking your head in disbelief. “There has to be a mistake. Maybe it’s someone who looks like him, or maybe the samples were contaminated—”

Detective Hall raised a brow, as if amused by your attempts to explain it away. “It’s no mistake. We’ve triple-checked. Mr. Solace’s DNA was found at every single crime scene. This isn’t a matter of chance or coincidence.”

You felt the weight of those words settle heavily, like stones in your chest. This was the kind of evidence that would seal a conviction, the kind of irrefutable proof that would convince a jury. But you knew Sebastian. You knew his heart, his kindness, his gentleness.

“He’s… he’s been with me.” You whispered, half a lie, desperation slipping into your voice. “We’re always together. If he was gone, I would have noticed. He’s not… he’s not capable of this.” There where times, where he was alone. You knew you couldn't cover Sebastian in that part.

„Well, last week, monday evening around 7...Where was he? With you?“ „Well he wasn't with m-“ „Then he wasn't always with you. Listen, we just wanna solve this case. This isn't a witch hunt to spill innocent blood.“ Hall’s gaze softened for a brief moment, as if he pitied you, but his tone was unwavering. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think, ma’am. It’s possible that there are sides to people we love that we never see. You wouldn’t be the first to be blindsided.”

Anger and frustration flared within you, mixed with helplessness as you struggled to find the right words. “No… you’re wrong. You have to be. He’s innocent. I don’t know how his DNA got there, but I know him, and he’s not a murderer.”

Detective Hall sighed, closing his notebook as he got up, leaving you trembling at the table. “I understand this is difficult to accept.” He said, his voice almost condescending. “But it’s better if you start facing the facts. If you think of anything—anything at all—that could help us, I suggest you reach out.”

You watched as he walked away, his words echoing in your mind like a curse. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating in their familiarity. Your hands trembled as you clutched the edge of the table, the mug of tea long forgotten and cold.

Detective Hall’s words echoed in your mind like a haunting refrain. DNA evidence. Fingerprints. Hair. You had fought so hard against the growing sense of dread, clinging to the belief that there had to be some explanation, some way to rationalize it all. But as time passed, the weight of those words settled on your chest, heavy and inescapable.

The more you thought about it, the more the pieces started to come together in a way that made your stomach churn. Sebastian’s late nights spent in the studio, the times he seemed distracted or distant, the odd comments he’d made that you’d brushed off as quirky or eccentric. What if there had been more going on?

You felt your breath quickening, the panic rising in your throat like a tide. The laughter and warmth of earlier days felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the horror that now loomed over you. How could you have been so naive? How could you have trusted him so completely?

Suddenly, it felt as if the walls themselves were pressing in on you, closing around your heart until you could hardly breathe. “No, no, no.” You whispered to yourself, shaking your head furiously. “He can’t be guilty. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t…”

But as you said it, doubt crept into your heart like a dark shadow. The evidence was overwhelming, and deep down, you knew it. There was a part of you that wanted to scream, to deny the truth, but the realization that the person you loved might be capable of something so horrific shattered your defenses.

You stood abruptly, pushing away from the table as your chair clattered to the ground. Your heart raced, and you stumbled into the living room, pacing back and forth as tears began to stream down your cheeks. “Sebastian… how could you?” The question hung in the air, heavy and full of anguish.

You could see his face in your mind—the smile that lit up his eyes, the kindness in his voice, the way he made you feel safe. But now, the image began to twist, tainted by the knowledge that he might be hiding something monstrous. You pressed your hands against your temples, fighting against the overwhelming sense of betrayal that surged within you.

What if the good times had all been a facade? What if he had been playing you all along?

Your legs gave out, and you sank to the floor, sobs breaking free as your entire world collapsed around you. The warmth of the apartment, once a sanctuary, felt like a prison. You buried your face in your hands, the weight of despair crushing you. “I believed in you.” You cried, voice muffled against your palms. “How could you do this to me?”

The sobs wracked your body, and you could feel your heart fracturing with every breath. The pain was all-consuming, a tempest of emotions swirling within you—anger, betrayal, sorrow. You felt utterly alone, abandoned in a nightmare you couldn’t escape.

It felt as if the walls themselves echoed your despair, a cruel reminder that you were trapped in this reality. The tears flowed freely, and you gasped for air, each breath feeling like a betrayal to the love you once held so fiercely. “Sebastian.” You choked out, the name a whisper tinged with heartbreak. “Please tell me this isn’t true…”

But deep down, a seed of doubt took root, a dark whisper that you couldn’t silence. And as you sat there, broken on the floor, you realized with chilling clarity that you might have to confront a truth you were terrified to face. Sebastian’s guilt. The possibility that the man you had loved so completely could be the monster hiding in plain sight.

The thought sent another wave of anguish crashing over you, and you curled into yourself, the weight of despair dragging you down into the depths of an all-consuming darkness.

The days turned into weeks, and the world outside faded into a distant blur. You had once filled your life with laughter and joy, sharing your passions and adventures with Sebastian on stream. But now, the only sound that echoed in the emptiness of your apartment was the relentless ticking of the clock, a constant reminder of the time that had passed since he was taken from you.

Sebastian’s execution had felt surreal, a nightmarish sequence that played out in slow motion. You had sat in the courtroom, heart pounding, as the gavel struck down on his fate, each word from the judge slicing through you like glass. “Guilty.” The word had reverberated in your mind, drowning out everything else. The cheers from those who had come to watch felt like daggers in your back, as you struggled to comprehend how the world could move on when yours had shattered.

In the days following, you had retreated into yourself, cocooning in the memories of what once was. The apartment felt hollow, the air heavy with the absence of his laughter and warmth. You’d tried to continue with your life, but every attempt felt futile. The vibrant colors of your past had drained away, leaving only shades of gray.

You found yourself staring at the walls, the pictures of you and Sebastian hanging like ghosts of a happier time. You avoided the streaming setup, the computer untouched and gathering dust. You couldn’t bear the thought of performing for an audience that had reveled in the spectacle of his downfall. The playful banter, the inside jokes—everything that had once felt like second nature was now suffocating.

It was in this state of isolation that you began to notice the ringing phone, the unknown number flashing on the screen each time. It became an annoyance, a constant reminder of the outside world that you had closed off. You ignored it at first, but as the calls persisted, you felt an overwhelming urge to pick up and shout into the void, to let whoever was on the other end know that you didn’t care. You were done.

“Just let it go.” You whispered to yourself, gripping the phone tightly in your hand, willing it to stop. But it only rang louder, taunting you, as if demanding a response. It felt like a ghost of your past, lingering reminders of what you had lost. You buried your face in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks as you mourned for Sebastian—the man who had filled your life with love, laughter, and joy.

Days turned into weeks, and you often found yourself walking the familiar paths that you had taken together, hoping to feel a connection to him, to find something that could ease the ache in your heart. You walked to the small coffee shop where you’d spent countless mornings, the barista greeting you with a sad smile as if he could see the heaviness in your soul.

“Are you okay?” He asked gently, his voice low as he handed you your usual drink.

You forced a smile that felt hollow. “Yeah, just… missing a friend.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, understanding etched in his features. “Take your time. We’re here for you if you need anything. I'm sure your friend will return soon.”

You returned to the apartment, the silence greeting you like an old friend. It was a comfort and a torment all at once, the echoes of Sebastian’s laughter haunting you at every turn. You stumbled through the rooms, feeling his presence everywhere, yet completely gone. The kitchen was a battlefield of untouched dishes, and the living room still bore witness to the chaos of that fateful night.

And yet, you felt compelled to keep ignoring the outside world. You and Sebastian had built a sanctuary here, and now it felt like a tomb—a space to remember and mourn, but also to be consumed by grief. You couldn’t bear the thought of facing Painter, or anyone else who might remind you of what you’d lost. Their calls went unanswered, your heart too heavy to even think of engaging with anyone.

But one night, as you sat curled up on the couch, a sudden urge struck you. You picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the contact list. It was almost automatic, a reflex driven by a desire to feel connected to someone, even if it was only a shadow of what you had with Sebastian. You clicked on Painter’s name, your heart racing as you prepared to dial. But just as your finger touched the screen, the phone rang again, the same unknown number flashing before you.

You hesitated, a surge of anger rising within you. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?” you cried out into the stillness, your voice trembling with a whirlwind of emotion. You had no strength left to deal with this mystery, this constant reminder of a life that felt irretrievably lost.

With a trembling hand, you answered the call. “Hello?” The word felt foreign on your tongue, like a brittle leaf falling from a tree in autumn.

A pause followed, stretching into an eternity, and then a voice emerged from the silence, dripping with smugness and taunting glee. “A wonderful evening, isn’t it?”

Recognition hit you like a slap, anger and disbelief coiling in your stomach. “Who is this?” You demanded, your heart racing as you tried to mask the tremor in your voice.

“It’s me… Allison.” She said, and you could almost hear the smirk in her tone. “I’ve been trying to reach you. You see, I want to meet you. In person.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The mere mention of her name felt like a punch to your gut. “What do you want?” You spat, the words sharp and laced with hurt, a raw wound that refused to heal.

“Oh, come now.” She chided, her voice honeyed yet poisonous. “You must know by now that I have the information you crave. The kind of juicy details that could change everything. And let’s be honest, you could use a little excitement in your life after all that’s happened.”

You could almost picture her, leaning back in some luxurious chair, a smug smile on her lips, relishing every moment of your turmoil. “What makes you think I’d want to hear anything from you?” You countered, trying to maintain the semblance of strength. But beneath your bravado, you were shaken, your heart aching at the memories that flooded back, memories of trust and betrayal.

“I know you’re hurting.” Allison pressed, her tone shifting, turning almost persuasive. “But the truth is, I hold the keys to unlocking the real story. You think you know what happened? Think again. Sebastian’s innocence? It’s a farce, darling.” She laughed lightly, and it sent a chill down your spine. “You need to hear what I have to say.”

A cold dread settled in your chest, mingling with your fury. How could she speak of Sebastian like that? Your mind raced with confusion and anger, torn between the desire to protect his memory and the nagging curiosity of what she might reveal. “What do you mean?” You demanded, your voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m not going to just give it away.” She cooed, her tone patronizing, like she was speaking to a child. “But I promise you, once you hear me out, everything will make sense. This isn’t just about Sebastian. It’s about the bigger picture. The real culprits behind the chaos that’s torn your life apart. And believe me, darling, it’s going to be quite a revelation.”

A sick feeling settled in your stomach as you wrestled with your emotions. You were weary of being trapped in this darkness, of the isolation that suffocated you. But could you trust her? Deep down, you felt that small flicker of hope—the chance that perhaps, just perhaps, she might hold some truth that could change everything.

“Fine.” You said finally, your voice steadying as you took a deep breath. “But this better be good. I don’t have time for games, Allison.”

“Good! Meet me at the park, by the fountain. You know the one. Tomorrow at noon. Come alone.” She instructed, her tone brisk and commanding, as if she knew you’d comply without question.

The line went dead, and you stared at the phone in disbelief, a storm of emotions swirling within you. You felt the shadows of your grief deepen, intertwining with the threads of a truth you had yet to confront. What was she playing at? Was this a trap? But the thought of Sebastian’s name hanging in the air like a ghost pulled at you, urging you to seek answers, no matter how painful they might be.

You spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, the weight of uncertainty heavy on your chest. As the sun rose the next morning, you felt a mix of dread and determination settle in your bones. You had to know the truth, even if it meant facing the very person who had turned your world upside down. You were willing to confront your fears if it meant uncovering the secrets buried in the shadows of your past.

As you prepared to leave, a part of you wondered what you would discover in that conversation. Would it bring you closer to the truth, or would it only lead to more heartbreak? Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: You were no longer willing to let fear dictate your life. Today, you would seek the truth, whatever the cost.

The morning air was crisp as you made your way to the park, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. The sun peeked through the branches of the trees, casting dappled shadows on the path ahead. As you approached the fountain, a wave of nausea washed over you. You had no idea what to expect from your encounter with Allison, but the tension was palpable, thickening the air around you.

You spotted her seated on a bench, casually flicking through her phone, the picture of nonchalance. She looked up as you approached, a smile playing on her lips that sent a chill down your spine. “You came.” She said, her voice light as if you were simply meeting for coffee.

“I’m not here to play games, Allison.” You said, forcing your voice to steady despite the tremor in your hands. “What do you want?”

She motioned for you to sit, and despite every instinct telling you to run, you complied, tension coiling in your stomach. “I wanted to talk about Sebastian.” She said, her tone shifting to something more serious. “You need to understand the truth of what happened.”

“The truth?” you echoed, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. “What do you know about the truth?”

Allison leaned closer, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something darker. “Oh, darling, I know everything. I know what you’ve been through, the heartbreak, the isolation. I know you still believe in Sebastian’s innocence.” She paused, savoring your reaction. “But here’s the thing: He’s not innocent. Not in the way you think.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What are you talking about?” You shook your head, trying to deny the implications of her words. “Sebastian would never—”

“Would never what?” She interrupted, her voice rising with feigned innocence. “Kill? You see, it’s easy to point fingers, especially when the truth is so beautifully complicated.” She leaned back, a smirk spreading across her face. “And I should know, because I orchestrated it all.”

A cold dread settled over you, a sickening realization dawning. “You’re lying,” you said weakly, but even as you spoke, the pieces began to click into place. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “I took my time, did my research. I switched out evidence, planted things to frame him perfectly. You see, the cops would never suspect the innocent ex-girlfriend, would they?” Her eyes sparkled with malice. “And I had just the plan to make sure it all fell into place.”

“Why? Why would you do this?” The words came out as a choked whisper, your heart racing as the reality of her confession settled in. “What did Sebastian ever do to you?”

Allison laughed, a cruel, mirthless sound. “Oh, sweetie, it was never about Sebastian. It was about you. I wanted to see you broken, to watch your world crumble. You had everything I wanted—his affection, his attention, his life. I just thought it would be so much fun to take it all away.” She paused, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “And I must say, it’s been quite the show.”

“Stop it!” You shouted, your voice rising in desperation. “You can’t keep getting away with this. I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them everything!”

“Oh, but you won’t.” She purred, leaning closer, her voice low and threatening. “Because I’ve already taken care of that. The evidence against Sebastian is airtight. His DNA was at the scenes, his clothes were planted. I even collected hair samples—he won’t be able to escape this.”

You felt your world tilt, your heart racing as the realization hit you. She was right: She had manipulated everything, and there was nothing you could do to stop her. “You’re insane.” You whispered, your body shaking with disbelief. “You can’t just play with people’s lives like this!”

“Why not?” Allison shrugged, her expression unfazed. “Life is a game, and I simply play to win. And right now, you’re just a pawn in my little chess match.”

A shuddering breath escaped you as the weight of her words crushed down on you. “You’re a monster.” You said, fighting back tears.

“Perhaps.” She said, her smile widening. “But I’m the one in control here. And you’re left with nothing but the truth—a truth that will haunt you for the rest of your life. Think of the fun you’ll have trying to navigate this new reality.”

You felt your heart break all over again, shattering into a million irretrievable pieces. “You can’t get away with this.” You said, but your voice lacked the conviction it once held.

“Oh, but I already have.” She replied, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “And if you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, who knows what might happen next?”

The weight of her threat hung heavy in the air, and you realized the truth of her power over you. The world felt like it was closing in, your vision blurring as the enormity of it all washed over you. With a sickening feeling of despair, you understood that you were utterly alone in this twisted game.

As you rose from the bench, every part of you screamed to run, to escape the grip of her twisted reality. But deep down, you knew you couldn’t. Not yet. The fight was far from over, but now, it was a fight for survival, and you had to gather every ounce of strength to confront the darkness that threatened to consume you. The battle was just beginning, and you would not let her win.

You stepped back, shaking your head as if that could somehow dispel the reality of the situation. “You’re delusional, Allison.” You said, but the conviction in your voice was wavering. “This can’t be real. You didn’t plan all of this from the beginning.”

Allison laughed again, a sound that echoed through the park like a chilling wind. “Oh, but it is real, darling. Every moment we spent together, every laugh we shared on those calls, it was all a performance. I played the role of the girlfriend to perfection, didn’t I?” She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a manic energy. “I had you all wrapped around my little finger, believing I on his side while I was orchestrating your downfall.”

Your heart raced as you felt the blood drain from your face. “No… No, you can’t mean that.” You stammered, disbelief mingling with a sickening realization. “You were there when Sebastian was arrested in court. You acted like you cared!”

“Cared?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I was reveling in your pain! Watching you grieve over someone you believed was innocent while I knew the truth all along was the highlight of my little game.” She paused, her expression shifting to something darker. “And the best part? I’ll always be three steps ahead of you.”

The breath caught in your throat, a chill running down your spine. “You’re a monster.” You whispered, your voice trembling. “How can you do this?”

“Because it’s fun.” She simply repeated, shrugging her shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “And let’s be real: I’m the only one who understands the beauty in chaos. This world is just a stage, and I’m the star of my own show.”

Every word dripped with malice, a taunting melody that twisted your insides. “You’re not a star, Allison. You’re just a pathetic coward hiding behind a mask of cruelty.”

She tilted her head, a smirk still playing on her lips. “But it’s the mask that gives me power, don’t you see? I can walk into any room and make people believe whatever I want them to believe. I’ve turned everyone against Sebastian. The evidence I planted, the stories I twisted—it’s all there. You can’t change the narrative once it’s set in stone.”

A fresh wave of anger surged through you, igniting a spark of defiance. “I won’t let you do this. I’ll find a way to expose you!”

“Oh, sweet naïve darling.” She mocked, her laughter sharp and cruel. “You think anyone will believe you? You’re just the broken girlfriend of a murderer. Who would trust your word against the solid evidence I’ve crafted? You’ll be seen as the girl who couldn’t let go, who couldn’t accept that her boyfriend was a monster.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again, each piece piercing you deeper. The weight of her manipulation suffocated you, leaving you gasping for air. “Why, Allison? Why all this?” You begged, desperation creeping into your voice. “What did you gain from ruining our lives?”

She leaned back, crossing her arms with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “I told you. It’s all a game, and I just wanted to see how far I could push you. I wanted to watch you crumble, to see you lose everything you held dear. It was beautiful, really. Watching you struggle to come to terms with Sebastian’s guilt while I quietly reveled in your despair.”

As her words sank in, a wave of grief crashed over you, threatening to drown you in its depths. “You’re sick.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “You’re not a person...��

“Call me what you want.” She said, her tone breezy, as if your words didn’t affect her. “The truth is, I’m the only one left standing. You’re the one who has lost everything, and I’m just getting started.”

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. She was right. You had been so focused on saving Sebastian that you hadn’t seen the bigger picture—the twisted web she had spun around you both. You felt like a marionette, dancing to her strings, and the weight of your helplessness crashed down on you.

“And trust me, darling, I plan to keep it that way. The game has just begun, and you’re the perfect player. Let’s see how long you last.”

With that, she stood up, brushing off her clothes with a dismissive gesture. “I’ll be watching, of course. You won’t be able to escape me, not when I’m always just a step away, waiting for you to make your next move.”

As she turned to walk away, her laughter echoed behind her, a haunting reminder of the chaos she had unleashed in your life. You felt the tears finally spill over, hot and angry, as the weight of betrayal and loss crashed down around you.

The heavy silence of the dimly lit store enveloped Allison as she stepped through the door, the creak of the hinges echoing through the darkness. The air felt thick, laden with anticipation, and she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her. The usual comforting scents of paint and wood shavings were replaced by an unsettling stillness that set her on edge.

“Painter?” She called, her voice slicing through the gloom, only to be met with silence. She squinted, trying to make out any shapes in the shadows, but the darkness felt alive, shifting around her as if it were aware of her presence.

A moment later, a soft click broke the stillness as a solitary bulb flickered to life, casting a weak glow across the room. Painter sat behind the counter, his features partially obscured in shadow, but the intensity of his gaze was unmistakable. He leaned forward, his hands clasped around a canvas and some expensive painting tools as he sketched, and the tension in the air thickened.

“Well?” He asked, his voice low and steady. He didn't bothered to even glance at her. “How did it go?”

Allison stepped closer, her heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. “It went exactly as I planned.” She replied, a smirk creeping onto her lips. “She’s fragile, Painter. Perfectly broken, just like we wanted. The meeting was… enlightening.”

Painter’s expression remained unreadable, but the way he tilted his head indicated he was hanging on her every word. “Enlightening how?” He pressed, his voice sharp.

“She is ready for the next step.” Allison continued, the thrill of her deception washing over her like a warm wave. “I spun the tale beautifully—she’s drowning in despair. I made sure to emphasize how she was the one left behind, how she had been played all along.”

“Good.” Painter replied, nodding slowly. “You have her right where we need her. But what about your end of the bargain? You have what you promised me?”

Allison laughed, a sound laced with a hint of darkness. “Of course. Everything is in place. I took care of the evidence. The hair samples, the clothes. No one will ever suspect a thing. It’s all beautifully orchestrated, just like a well-crafted film.”

Painter’s eyes gleamed with interest, and he leaned back, a satisfied smile slowly spreading across his face. “You’ve truly outdone yourself, Allison. I knew I could count on you to bring chaos to life.”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s just another day in our little game, isn’t it? But let’s be clear: I’m not here to play forever. I want my reward.”

“You’ll get it.” Painter assured her, his tone serious now. “But remember, the game isn’t over yet. There’s still more to be done.“

“I’m already steps ahead,” Allison replied, her confidence bubbling over. “She has no idea who’s really pulling the strings. With Sebastian out of the picture, and with me in her life pretending to the enemy, I can manipulate her emotions. It’s a beautiful arrangement.”

“Just ensure she doesn’t catch on too quickly.” Painter cautioned, a warning lacing his words. “Her grief could turn into something more dangerous if she realizes she’s being played.”

Allison waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about that. I know how to handle her. Besides, she’s already broken. It won’t take much to keep her under my control.”

“Good.” Painter said, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Let’s keep her that way. I have plans for her, and we need her to stay in line.”

As the weight of their conversation settled around them, a shared understanding ignited in the darkness. They were both architects of chaos, and together they would build a world that thrived on manipulation and deceit.

Allison stepped back, a grin spreading across her face. “This is just the beginning, Painter. I can’t wait to see how this unfolds.”

Painter leaned back in his chair, a gleam of malice in his eyes. “Neither can I. But remember, the shadows are watching, and we must stay one step ahead. Let’s make sure that the show goes on.”

With that, the two conspirators shared a knowing glance, the darkness of the store wrapping around them like a cloak, sealing their plans in the hushed stillness of the night. The game was far from over, and they were ready to play.

In the dim, cluttered backroom of the art studio, the air was thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the soft scratching of Painter’s pencil against the canvas. Each stroke was deliberate, each line imbued with a manic energy that crackled like electricity in the air. As he meticulously worked on capturing your likeness, the glee within him grew, bubbling to the surface like a sinister tide.

The whole sequence of events had been a carefully choreographed dance, an intricate play penned solely by him. From Allison’s arrival at the café to the shocking announcement of Sebastian’s (faked) death, every detail had been crafted with precision, each moment calculated to elicit the maximum emotional response from you. It was all part of his grand design—a masterpiece of manipulation that he reveled in as if it were the finest work of art.

Painter leaned back, admiring his handiwork, his heart racing with a mixture of excitement and something darker. Yes, he was in love with you, utterly and completely, to the point where he would twist the very fabric of reality itself to ensure you would see him as your savior. For him, love had morphed into an obsession, one that transcended the boundaries of morality and reason. He had watched from the shadows as you and Sebastian grew closer, the connection between you blooming like a flower in spring, and it had driven him to the edge of madness.

The red strings of fate, which folklore claimed intertwined the lives of soulmates, had become a web of control and manipulation in his mind. He had to act before it was too late, before you were irrevocably lost to Sebastian. That was when he had reached out to Allison, a face from your past, and transformed her into the perfect pawn in his game.

“Skilled, wicked, and naive.” He murmured to himself, a cruel smile spreading across his lips as he remembered the lengths he had gone to secure her loyalty. He had paid her handsomely to infiltrate your life, to steal Sebastian from you, to take your identity, your streaming account, your very essence. It was all too easy to convince her that she was invincible under his protection, too blind to see the truth—that she was nothing more than a tool, a disposable piece in his elaborate scheme.

Painter’s thoughts raced, the joy of his manipulation coursing through him. The climax of his plan had been the final confrontation with Allison, the dramatic reveal that would shatter the illusion she had created. It had all been a performance, rehearsed to perfection. He had relished the moment, watching as her bravado crumbled and the reality of her situation settled in like a heavy fog. She had believed she was in control, but he had orchestrated every twist and turn, and now the stage was set for her downfall.

Yet, despite all his efforts, there was one unexpected variable—your unwavering loyalty to Sebastian. Painter had believed that once he exposed Allison, you would run to him, your savior, the one who had seen the truth beneath the layers of deceit. But you had returned to Sebastian instead, drawn back to the very man he had orchestrated the demise of. In that moment, rage ignited within him, a blazing inferno that threatened to consume everything he had built.

There was no other choice; Sebastian had to go. The thought danced through his mind like a dark melody, sweet and intoxicating. Painter was rich, clever, and dangerously unhinged. He had the resources to make anything happen, to erase any obstacle that stood in his way. It was an easy task to hire the right people, to ensure that the nine murders he orchestrated would lead the trail of blame directly to Allison.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he recalled how he had twisted her mind, making her believe she was untouchable. She would take the blame for everything, painted as the guilty party in a crime that was all his doing. It was a beautiful, tragic irony that thrilled him; the naïve little pawn would never see it coming. The moment she was caught, the world would believe her to be the real villain, and he would be the silent spectator, the mastermind hiding in plain sight.

But Sebastian? He would not be lost to the world. No, he had arranged for his dear friend to become a living test subject for Urbanshade, a dark experiment that would keep him alive, twisting in the shadows. Painter’s smile widened as he imagined the day you would finally see through the fog of lies and betrayal, when you would recognize him as the one who truly cared for you, the only one who had ever understood you.

“Soon.” He whispered, a predatory glint in his eyes, “You will see me, and then all will be right in this world I’ve created.” The canvas before him captured not just your face but the very essence of his twisted love, a love that would stop at nothing to ensure you were his and his alone.

As he continued to sketch, the darkness of his intentions wrapped around him like a cloak, and he couldn’t help but feel that, in this sinister game of puppets, he was the true artist. Each line, each shadow, was a testament to his genius—a dark narrative that would soon unfold, revealing the depths of his obsession and the horrifying lengths to which he would go to have you in his grasp.

Painter had played everyone. Sebastian, Allison, and especially YOU.

#roblox pressure #sebastian solace #pressure #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #pressure x reader #sebastian solace fanfic #streamer au

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ajmasch · 5 days ago

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@here4hualian kissmas day 18: playful kiss

Xie Lian’s husband was a shapeshifter. He had a myriad of different faces and he swapped them out as easily as changing clothes depending on the occasion or his mood. His xiao-Hua form for when they visited Puqi village or when he wanted to emphasize his youthful, mischievous nature, an older form when he wanted to command attention and respect, his true form for more vulnerable moments, moments with just the two of them and close companions.

Some days, Hua Cheng preferred a female form, and Xie Lian would spend the day with his wife in a form that she had confessed drew on whatever small features she could remember of a mother who died so long ago.

Some days, Hua Cheng didn’t feel particularly human at all. On those days, Xie Lian would wake up to the feeling of a wet nose and a brush of fur against his face. He opened his eyes to the sight of a one-eyed fox, sniffing his face and wagging his tail excitedly.

“Good morning, San Lang,” Xie Lian greeted. The fox licked his face excitedly, bouncing up and down on the bed.

“Alright, alright, let me make breakfast first, then we’ll play. Okay?”

Hua Cheng yipped his agreement and scrambled down off the bed before racing towards the kitchen. Xie Lian laughed and ran after him, bare feet comfortable against the carpeted floors.

After a quick breakfast, which Hua Cheng devoured just as excitedly as he did in his human form, they made their way outside to a garden. They had a lot of games they liked to play on these types of days. If Xie Lian was more tired, he would throw objects for Hua Cheng to fetch, or watch as his husband performed wild tricks, but Hua Cheng’s favorite was when Xie Lian would wrestle with him.

They chased and tackled and rolled around, trying to pin each other down. Whoever was successful celebrated their victory with a flurry of kisses to the other, whether it was Xie Lian showering Hua Cheng’s fluffy face with kisses or Hua Cheng covering Xie Lian with nuzzles and licks.

At the end of the day, when they were all worn out, they retreated back to their bedroom. Hua Cheng curled up against Xie Lian’s side and relaxed as fingers stroked through his soft fur, lulling him to sleep.

#tgcf #merryhualiankissmas #hualian #hua cheng #xie lian #tgcf fanfic #fox hua cheng

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m-jelly · 5 months ago

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Ulterior Motive - Chapter 3

Levi x reader

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, mafia, Gangs, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Gangsters, Yakuza, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, True Love, First Love, Yandere aspects, Protective Levi Ackerman, Possessive Levi Ackerman, Tattooed Levi Ackerman, Blood and Violence, Eventual Smut, Childhood Friends

In this chapter: You spend with friends in different ways this chapter. You face your feelings and open up to Levi as you try to end the fake engagement, but Levi also confesses leading to the engagement becoming real.

Ao3

Part 4

The softness of the sofa in the hotel was incredible. Your back and head were against the seats while your legs hung over the arm. The top of your head was touching Lucas’s as he lay in the same position as you with his legs over the other arm of the sofa. It’d been a few days since you’d moved into the hotel room and you hadn’t seen Levi much, so you were lonely and wanted your friend. Lucas and Shino came over to spend time with you. Shino was sitting nicely in the armchair while you and Lucas lay on the sofa.

Shino eyed his crossword and hummed. “Bob Marley song and the second word is soldier?”

You looked over at Shino. “Buffalo soldier.”

Lucas smirked and started singing a few lines before speaking. “Damn good song.”

You wiggled your toes. “It is.”

Shino wrote down an answer to another question. “Peach is missed a lot at the club.”

Lucas groaned. “So many horny men asking us about you. It’s a bit annoying.”

You hummed a bit. “I’m sorry.”

Shino put his crossword down. “Don’t be sorry. Lucas is being an ass.” He glanced over to the front door and saw Levi enter. “Good afternoon, Mr Ackerman.”

Levi pulled his jacket off. “Afternoon. I wasn’t expecting you both here.” He walked right up to you and pressed his pelvis against the arm of the sofa, put your legs on either side of his hips and massaged your ankles. “Hello, bunny.”

You smiled at Levi. “Hello, you here for a bit again?”

He leaned over and placed his hands on either side of your head making your heart race. “I’m staying this time.” He eyed you as you panted a little from arousal. “I want to play.”

Lucas had rolled over and was smirking a bit as he gazed at Levi. “You talking about sex or something else?”

Levi looked up and locked eyes with Lucas. “How about I talk about cutting pieces of your skin off instead of you being nosey?”

You poked Levi’s squishy cheek. “Don’t threaten my friend.”

Levi looked back down at you. “Forgive me.”

Shino walked over to Lucas, grabbed him by his belt and lifted. “Come on.”

You looked upside down at Shino and Lucas. “Wow, so strong.”

Shino placed Lucas on his feet and noticed the dark look in Levi’s eyes. “I’m strong, but Mr Ackerman beats me with raw strength and power. He’s impressive.”

You looked into Levi’s eyes. “Really?”

Levi kissed your cheek. “I’m the strongest in my group.” He pulled back and turned to your friends. “I need a word with you both.”

You shifted on the sofa, sat up and grabbed the arm of the sofa. “Be nice, please?”

Levi caressed your cheek. “Don’t worry. It’s all work.”

You slipped off the sofa and hurried over to your friends. “Wait.” You hugged Lucas tightly. “Thank you for coming over.” You released Lucas and hugged Shino. “I really appreciate it. I missed you both.”

Shino smiled and hugged you back. “We missed you a lot too.”

Lucas grinned. “We missed you big time. We’ll visit again.”

You stepped back and whined a bit. “I’m glad. We’ll do something fun next time.”

Levi ruffled your hair. “I’ll set anything up you need. I’ll be right back, okay?”

You smiled. “Sure thing.” You waited for Levi to leave with your friends before going to the bedroom. You swapped your nice clothes for very comfy ones. “Better.” After dressing you moved to the sofa, put the TV on and watched a few Youtubers you liked.

Levi entered the room again and approached you. He stood behind you before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and held you. “It’s just you and me now.”

You reached up and held his arms. “Is there something you want to do?” You turned your head and smiled. “Maybe watch a movie?”

He pressed his lips against the top of your head and sighed. “Mm.”

You turned around in his arms making him release you. You cupped his face and looked into his eyes. “You seem sad.”

He smiled a little. “You know, you’re the only person who has ever been able to read all my emotions.”

“Maybe because I care and I pay attention.”

Levi wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “I just have a lot of thoughts going on. I feel like a monster.”

You rubbed his back. “You’re not a monster.”

He assessed his thoughts and your comments, he felt like a monster. Seeing you lying around with Lucas, giving them hugs, smiling at them and cuddling too. All Levi wanted to do was pick you up, run away with you and then lock you up in a comfy soft room. He’d make sure you were looked after, but you could never leave him, ever. He felt terrible that he had such dark thoughts because you were so adorable and sweet, but that was part of the problem and he was sure some man would want to take you away from him.

Levi sighed and mumbled. “I just want to lock you up and keep you as mine.”

You pulled back and gazed at him. “You want to lock me up?”

He blushed hard. “I ah…I…that was meant to be said in my head.” He lowered his head as he felt ashamed. “I told you I’m a monster.”

You gripped the back of the sofa. “Would it be a comfy soft room you lock me up in?”

He gazed at you. “What?”

You hummed a laugh. “Well, if you’re going to lock me up, you could at least give me a nice comfy room.”

Levi growled a bit before looking away. “Careful what you say.”

You climbed over the sofa and walked right up to Levi causing him to hold his breath. You leaned up towards him, your lips dangerously close. Levi didn’t know that you loved the idea of him running off with you and locking you up. You wanted Levi. You kissed the corner of his mouth before moving over to the mini-fridge.

Levi raced up to you, he grabbed you making you squeak before lifting you and sitting you on the counter. He slammed his hands on the counter on either side of your hips. He panted as he gazed into your eyes, a deep possessive desire in his eyes. He tilted his head a moment. “You’re playing with me on purpose, aren’t you? You know, it’s dangerous to play with me.”

You giggled. “Is the big bad wolf getting hungry?”

“Well, there is a delicious bunny in front of me.”

You tilted your head to the side and hummed in thought. “I might be disappointing.”

Levi massaged your hips. “Who would dare make you feel this way?”

“Just how the world is.” You hummed a laugh. “Thanks for getting angry for me.” You slung your arms over his shoulders. “So, umm…”

He placed his hands on your thighs. “Yes?”

“Have you ever thought about maybe dating and finding a serious girlfriend?”

The look he gave you was as if you had just said the most offensive word in the world. After a few beats, the look was gone and it was back to his normal stony look. He huffed. “Why would I need a girlfriend when I have you?”

You slipped from his touch. “But I’m just for pretend.” You stretched and clicked your joints. “Mm.”

Levi watched you closely and admired your body. A pretend lover is not what he wanted from you, he wanted it to be real and he was working hard on changing that. He was going to charm and woo you so you’d fall for him. Levi was going to have you, he wouldn’t dare let anyone else have you.

He softly called your name. “Are you free tomorrow?”

You tapped on your phone. “Ah, no. Do you need me for a thing?”

He stared at you. “Not really, nothing urgently. What plans do you have?”

You sat on the sofa and sighed. “The other hostesses are going to a mixer. I’m not interested, but I’m going to support the other ladies.”

He walked around the sofa and sat down as he held back his anger. “You’re going to a mixer? Even if you’re there to support your friends, there will be men after you.” He reached over and played with your hair. “How could they not want you?”

You nibbled your lip. “Mm.” You thought about his words and read his expression, he was clearly unhappy about the idea of someone else taking you from him. “Well, I was planning on keeping my engagement ring on anyway. I’m not looking for some random weird guy. I have high standards.” You smiled when you saw how happy Levi was. “I won’t let anyone near me. I’m Levi Ackerman’s fiancée.”

Levi pulled you against him. “Damn fucking right you are.”

You hummed a laugh. “You know, if you ever do meet a woman you love please don’t resist her. Let me know and I’m happy to walk away.” You reached up and touched his cheek. “I want you to be happy and in love. So, be honest with me and let me know, okay?”

He hugged you tightly. “Mm, no more talk of women or men coming into our lives.”

“Okay. Deal.”

You adjusted your dress and felt pretty, but you made sure that you appeared normal and not trying for a man. The look you were going for was a supportive friend and not looking for a date, but with the way Levi was looking at you from the doorway, you had things a bit wrong. You fixed your hair and gazed at him. “Something wrong?”

Levi pouted. “Too pretty.”

You walked over to him. “You said the other ones were too petty.”

He turned his head. “You’re too pretty.”

You poked his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re stroppy. It’s hard to leave you.”

“Then don’t.”

You hugged him. “I promised my friends.”

He hugged you back. “You’re a good person.”

You pulled back. “I try to be.”

He released a long sigh. “Do you need a lift?”

You shook your head and grabbed your bag. “No, I’m getting a lift. Thank you though.”

He followed you like he was a lost puppy. “You’ll message, right? To make sure you’re okay?”

“Of course, I’ll keep you updated.” You let Levi guide you outside to your meeting spot. “I don’t think you need to worry. It’s you I’m worried about. You haven’t been without me in the hotel room for weeks. Are you going to be okay?”

He whined a little. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to cancel?”

He shook his head. “You promised your friends. Don’t let me come between you and your friends.”

You rubbed his back as you gently smiled. “I’ll try and come home early.” You looked up as a car pulled up. “Oh, there she is. Hey Pop.”

The window rolled down and a beautiful blonde grinned brightly at you. “Sup, Peach. You ready?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

She eyed Levi. “That your fiancé? Hot stuff.”

You leaned over and kissed Levi’s cheek before whispering. “I told everyone I’m taken at work, hope that’s okay.”

Levi purred. “I was made for the role. Enjoy your time with your friends.”

You waved to him before getting in. “Ready.”

Pop drove off and smirked. “Fuck, Peach, that man is a fucking God. I bet it’s hard to keep your hands to yourself.”

You thought about how you and Levi were with each other, it was almost like you were a couple even though you were supposed to be pretending. “He’s very attentive and cuddly. He’s always touching me.”

“Lucky girl.” She sighed. “He obsessed?”

“Deeply.”

She groaned. “You’re so lucky!” Pop whined. “I wish I had that.”

You smiled at her. “You’ll find a nice man and if you don’t, that’s okay you can love and spoil yourself.”

She pulled up and winked at you. “You’re damn fucking right!” She got out and towered over you, she was such a beautiful tall blonde beauty with confidence rolling off her. “Maybe there will be a nice guy here.”

“I think there will be.”

She strutted to the BBQ place and entered first. “Looks like there are people here already. And counting the people, it looks like we’re one man down which means…” She smiled at you. “You are safe.”

You let out a long sigh. “Good.”

She led you to the sitting area and ensured you sat on the end away from everyone. She smiled as she chatted to your friends and the men that had come along. In total, there were four girls including you and three guys. While Pop seemed to gain all the attention, you nursed your drink and enjoyed your meat cooking on the hotplate on the table.

“Hey.”

You turned your head and stared at one of the men who decided to sit next to you. “Uh…hello?”

He smirked and put his arm around the back of your seat. “You looked lonely.”

“Oh, I’m here just to support my friends and keep an eye on them. Like the mum.”

He looked you up and down. “A hot mum.”

You laughed awkwardly. “Ah, right.”

“So, why are you not trying to get with a guy?”

You showed him your left hand. “I’m engaged.”

He laughed. “But you came to a mixer.”

You frowned a bit because you’d already explained why you were there. “Well, as I said before, I’m here to keep an eye on everyone as the mum of the group. Just pretend I’m not here.”

“That’s impossible because you’re hot.”

“Umm, I’m engaged. I’m not looking for someone.”

He shuffled closer. “But I am.” He yelped in pain when someone bent back his hand. “The fuck!?”

You looked up and felt your heart race. “Levi.”

Levi was in a tight white shirt and smart trousers, though he was dressed down he still looked like he meant business and commanded respect. “Tch, she’s taken, asshole.” He released his hand. “These the type of men you invited to your mixer?”

Pop pouted. “Damn loser hitting on a taken woman! Sorry, Levi.”

Levi wiped his hands clean. “I brought friends who are better than these men.”

As he cleaned up and the three men ran off, the room began to fill with attractive young and old men from Levi’s gang. All were respectful and charming to your friends. It made you think that you should have gotten Levi to organise the mixer so your friends could meet decent men. You knew that these men would be kind and good because Levi was their boss and he taught them well.

Levi sat next to you and sighed. “Damn scum.” He looked over at you to see you were staring with a cute smile. Blood rushed to Levi’s cheeks making them a cute pink. “Tch, what?”

“You missed me so much you had to crash my mixer?”

He pouted and looked away as he put his arm over the back of your chair. “I was in the area.”

“Uh-huh.” It was a lie, you knew it but he wouldn’t fully admit it yet that he missed you. “You know, if you wanted to come you could have asked.”

His eyes widened as he contemplated your words. “I didn’t think it was an option. Huh…” He ruffled his hair as he felt slightly silly. “Well, I’m here now so you don’t have to be sad anymore and miss me.”

“Sure, sure.”

He picked up a menu and pretended to scan it with his eyes. “Hmm, not bad.”

You smirked. “You own this place, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You bumped your body against his. “Knew it. All the best places are owned by you. You set a good standard and target for them to meet.”

He tossed the menu on the table. “I want families to have a good time at my restaurants, just like I did as a kid.”

“Well, I was having an okay time, but it became great after a while.”

His steel blue eyes sparkled as they captured you, he had no idea what you were on about but he was excited to learn where this was going. “What made it better? I would like to know so I could put that in place elsewhere.”

You giggled. “Well, that might be hard.”

“Why?” Confusion was etched on his face, he was cute like this.”

“Well, it got better when you arrived.”

The cute crimson colour returned to his biteable cheeks. “Oh…well…thank you. You also make everything better.”

You hummed a laugh and began cooking some meat on the hotplate. You placed everything on some rice and scooted up to Levi. “Let me feed you.”

Levi whined a little. “S-Sure.”

You smiled as you fed him some meat. “Is it cooked to your liking?”

“Mm, yes.” He licked his lips. “You know, you don’t have to do this. I don’t think people are looking.”

You frowned at his comment before it clicked. “Oh, well I wasn’t thinking about making a show for others. I was just wanting to do this for you.”

Levi grabbed the bowl and leaned closer to your lips. “And what about you?” His gaze was so alluring and intense. “You should eat something.”

You gulped hard as a strong feeling and desire bubbled up. No matter how much you fought this feeling, you knew you wanted to kiss Levi. Your heart throbbed for Levi. The feelings you had for this man were screaming at you, you were in deep and you had loved this man since you were a kid. It stung your heart because you were sure a man as wonderful as him wouldn’t want a woman like you.

“Hey.” The softness of Levi’s voice snapped you out of your dark thoughts. He gently caressed your cheek. “Is everything okay? You look really sad, almost broken.”

You tapped your head against his shoulder as you fought tears. “I umm…can we go somewhere to talk?”

He peered at your face and knew this was serious and needed to be said in private. “Of course. We’re close to my place. Will that be okay?”

You hummed and nodded weakly. “Yes.”

He slipped out of his seat, took your hand and softly spoke to Pop about why you were leaving. It seemed your friends were very understanding, you were sure they had seen your tears. After speaking to them Levi guided you out of the restaurant. You were surprised that you weren’t ushered into a car but instead led down the street to a large apartment block. The lift smoothly took you both up to the very top floor, the penthouse, which was very spacious and modern. Everything was spotless and clean within it, which most would assume was done by a maid but you knew Levi had cleaned the place. All the latest gadgets were there to aid Levi in his cleaning and busy life.

Levi walked past you. “Do you want something to drink? Change of clothes?”

You clenched up tightly as your emotions burst out of you. “I can’t be your fake fiancée anymore.”

He froze on the spot as his stomach dropped. As he slowly turned to you he saw the emotions running through him and darkness seeped inside him, you couldn’t leave him, he wouldn’t allow it, you were his and he deeply loved you. However, he needed to stay in control. You were in pain and he had to care for you. He couldn’t overreact.

He released a long sigh. “Explain.”

You rubbed your tears away. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

He walked closer and sternly said your name. “Why?”

You shook on the spot, you didn’t want to admit your feelings but you knew you had no choice. Once you uttered the next few words, you knew your friendship was over. “Because I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I can’t pretend to be your fiancée anymore, I just can’t because I so badly want it to be real.”

All of Levi’s hopes for the two of you were real, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. It was a dream come true for me. Compelled by his emotions, Levi wrapped his arm around you with his hand on your lower back. He tugged you against him as his other hand tangled in your hair. His lips crashed against yours in a passionate but messy kiss due to emotions being raw and out in the open. The two of you clung together as your tongues moved together, you were both greedy for each other and it was clear by the way you were kissing and touching each other.

Levi pulled from your lips and panted. “Be my real fiancée.”

Your heart raced. “Wh-what?”

He cupped your face and moaned your name as a lovesick look took over his eyes. “I’ve been in love with you ever since we were kids. I will admit that making you my fake fiancée was a ploy to keep you close.” He gripped your upper arms. “I refuse to let you go. I wanted you as mine.” He gazed at you. “I just loved you so much and so deeply. I didn’t want another man to have you.” He lowered his head. “It’s why I get possessive and jealous when men touch you and get close to you.” He released you and put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m just crazy about you. I love you. I just love you.”

“Levi, look at me.”

He looked up at you. “Yes?”

You smiled at him. “Do you really love me?”

“Fuck, yes.”

You threw yourself at Levi and held him tightly. “Mm. Good.”

Levi held you as he said your name. “I will warn you, if you say you are mine and we’re together I will be possessive, protective and deeply loving. I’ll want to be with you all the time. I’ll want to spoil you. I’ll want to give you all my love. It might be too much, so please tell me if it is too much.”

You gazed at him with a sparkle in your eyes, if only he knew that you would be the same. You smiled. “You know, I’m just as crazy.”

Levi felt a rush of excitement. “I knew it. You’re my soulmate.” He held your hands and showered them with kisses. “So, what do you say? Will you be my fiancée? Will you marry me? Will you be mine for life and beyond?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

His lips crashed against yours again. “Mine.” He kissed you again and sighed. “You’ll move in with me, right?”

You pressed your face against his chest and hummed. “Yes.”

Levi hugged you. “Mine.” He released you. “I need to get you moved in!”

You watched in awe as he started making calls. “Umm…”

Levi smiled at you. “All under control. Why don’t you get changed and relax my little bunny.”

You nodded and felt like you were in a daze. You patted your cheeks as your heart fluttered. You came to a stop before his wardrobe and then chose some comfy clothes of his and changed. After feeling comfy and surrounded by Levi’s perfect scent made you happy. You shuffled out of the bedroom and watched Levi as he gave people orders as they moved your things.

Levi stormed over to you causing you to giggle. “Come here.” He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Naughty bunny.”

You squealed in delight. “Levi.”

He threw you on the bed before crawling over you. “Stay here. I don’t want anyone to see how adorable you look.” His lips met yours again. “You’re so pretty.”

You covered your mouth with your hands as you felt flustered. “Thank you, handsome.”

He leaned down and gently pressed his lips against your chest where your racing heart lay. “I hope my love seeps into your heart.”

“It does.”

Levi climbed off you and put a blanket over you. “Rest easy, okay?”

You curled up a bit. “I will.”

He handed you a remote. “Watch anything you want. I’ll be back.” After dealing with moving your things into his home, he made sure your clothes were left in boxes by the bedroom door. Levi refused to disturb you while you were resting. When the chaos was over, he went in and checked on you to find you softly sleeping. “Adorable.” Levi changed into comfy clothes and ruffled his hair before lying on his bed next to you. He smiled knowing that he had succeeded in getting you as his. He wrapped his arms around you as he said your name. “I love you.”

#levi ackerman #levi #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x y/n #fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi x you #levi x reader #levi x yn #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #levi attack on titan #levi aot #jelly fanfic #jelly fanfics

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jolalibrary · 2 years ago

Text

a handful of birthdays

captain john price x f!reader wordcount: 3k | warnings: cod typical fashion, fluff. an: reader's callsign is ash, because...

The first birthday you spent together he didn’t know the day held any important significance.

He was gruff, all smirks and cigar smoke. The drinks flow too easily after a successful operation, liquor burning the back of your throat as you try to keep up.

On another plane, somewhere else, you’re sure you do.

Tonight, Price must know that it’s hitting you quicker, swapping your drink for water, touching the end of his nose at you—our secret.

Then, his knee is pressed against yours, occasionally bobbing up and down. The movement sends vibrations up your bones at the same time as the music crackles through the speakers.

Some songs you knew, some you didn’t—but he knew all of them. Occasionally finding him lip-syncing to them, not realising anyone—least of all you—was studying him as intently as you were.

It arrives slowly, your feeling for him. Beginning at admiration and ending somewhere at quickened heart rates and sweaty palms.

Sometimes, more especially in moments like this, when he’s soft and laid back, he makes your chest tighten. Feeds your mind and soul with ideals you’re not sure you’ll ever get. A little British home somewhere, a bay window and plenty of walnut furniture for him to bend you over. A girl can dream—you tell yourself. It provides the basis for wishful thoughts and serene daydreams.

It isn’t until far later. When you weren’t able to be as surreptitious, your brain still fuddled and slow from spirits you had no business drinking doubles of.

His fingers brush against the side of your knee, hidden, cautious. The table empties as darts entertain the others, leaving the two of you in the booth.

“Should stop staring at me, love.”

“Why’s that?”

He leans in, basking you in the scent of smoky leather and fresh earth. “A man might think you like looking at me.”

He had no idea when he lay chapped lips against yours what the day was. As his palm cups your cheek under the stars and moon, tongue sliding past your lips as the two of you lose all decorum in a dark, damp alleyway.

Price gave you a present you had wanted for ages—one you had never felt brave enough to ask for. It was make-believe, something too good that your fingers would never truly have.

Yet, here you were, fists clenching around his jacket, wondering if you can pull the beanie from his head to run your fingers through his hair.

“Do you kiss all your subordinates, Pricey?”

“Only the pretty ones, love.”

You never told him what the night was to you. Not even when things become messier, your bodies become just as acquainted as your lips. His calloused fingers burned notes and secrets into your hips as he made you feel full and good, over and over.

In time, he fills a space in your life you hadn’t known was there. Entering and filling the space all carved just for him. He asks the little things when you’re lay on his chest, favourite colour, cake, drink…

But, each time that question comes up, you skirt it. Distracting him, throwing him off from the conversation either with a long kiss or a flirtatious stare.

Because it’s gone on too far now, and you’re not sure how to undo it.

So you don’t.

Joining your lips with his, fingers cradling his cheek.

Your second birthday arrived, and the two of you had blurred the line between what you both were.

Colleagues. Lovers. Friends.

A mess of knitted-together feelings and odd statements you didn’t have the true capacity to untangle.

An entirely different one than the year before.

You were caked in blood, mud and soot. The wind knocked from your lungs, cold and warmth spreading in ripples through your stomach as you landed on your back—stones embedding into your vest and clothes.

You felt each one. Small lumps you wanted to wipe from the pressure points, but the pain in your stomach stopped you.

He was on his knees (fewer lines, and less facial hair—than he has now). The look then was the same as it was now, secretive panic hidden behind duty and pride.

The latter is something akin to what you imagined for your special day.

You’d hoped to have him on his knees when you woke. You had just hoped it would be on something solid, with less moss and more carpet.

Blue eyes twinkled down at you, like a jewel from the ocean. Your hand grasping his vest, scarlet coating in soft waves over your fingers—warm, and slick.

He’s solid. Real.

Not a fantasy—very much a reality.

“The fuck—”

The taste of copper hanging heavy in the air, peppering your tongue and burning the insides of your nose. You wonder if it’s doing the same to him.

Bypassing the soft mix of the blonde and brunette moustache to crawl into his brain—to root yourself somewhere you shouldn’t be found.

You have experience of that.

Being in places you shouldn’t be. His bed, for one of them—

“Listen t’me, Soldier—”

He’s paling. Visibly.

The shade he has become required him to go through a quick transition to get there. It makes the dirt and dust on his cheeks stand out more than they already do. But it’s his eyes—those blue icy things which force warmth into your cheeks. The sight of them making a breath cling to your throat, sticking, struggling to escape or be swallowed.

You’d listen to him forever. Your eyes slowly blink, clinging to him with all your mustered strength.

“—Keep y’hand here for me. Can y’do that, love?”

Love.

It rolls from his tongue, sliding into your ears like sweet syrup.

John has called it you before—but your Lieutenant never has. He refrains from even looking, letting himself believe he has nothing to be absolved from. As if he doesn’t take you apart at every chance he can get—the legs of your cot bed having stories many would love to hear.

His gloved fingers click, right in front of your face.

“Ash, keep ‘em on me.”

“M’birthday, Pricey.”

You don’t mistake the line between his brows. The one he lets escape—allows to crack his facade. He tries, though. Bottles you up and hides you behind layers and walls so complex, you wonder whether he’d have been a good bricklayer.

This, though, he struggles to stuff down. Unable to stifle the range of emotions which must hammer into him—equalling the thinnest, briefest line to appear before his brows smooth out, evening back to the face of a stiff, stern lieutenant.

“Say h-happy birthd-day to me.”

The pain is dissolving. Slowly fading, a numbness spreading. You’re not a fool—you remember the training, the signs.

“Please, John.”

You never ask him for anything.

Not a handhold. Not a hug. Nothing outside of four walls of secrecy and privacy. You let him take, and you willingly give. So, you hope—pray with the smallest margin you have left—he’ll bless you with this.

“No, love,” he whispers, sliding one hand under your knees and the other under your neck. “Still be y’birthday when I get you to Evac.”

The third birthday you spent with him, you’d awoken to fingers curled inside of you and his head between your thighs.

Your legs parted for him as his breath blew on your core like you were both a candle and a cake he was about to devour.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your core, his tongue drawing a circle against you before plunging between your folds.

Your nails find his scalp, fingers carving through his hair as thick whimpers slam into the quiet of the morning. Trying to swallow his name, throat sore from saying it like a chant only hours ago as he made you come undone over, and over again.

It was rare for the two of you to be amongst the countryside.

Off duty—alone.

It had taken a moment to grow used to it. For guards to drop and fingers to mould with him.

The small cottage nestled into a hill, surrounded by beech trees and cooing birds—the scent of his smoked cigars still hanging in the air, swirls of it still appearing in the crack of light through the unopened curtains.

You want to take me away? Don’t act surprised, love. Y’insatiable. A good dirty weekend might make y’listen more. Surprised you know the word insatiable, Captain. Less of that. What? Captain? But that’s your new title.

You came around his fingers, his gruff and deep voice coaching you through it—reminding you how good you are, how pretty you are.

It wasn’t until you were watching squirrels chase, mug warm in your palm did he call for you. Having been told to sit down, rest up. One of his football shirts keeps you decent in case walkers passed the cottage and the unshut curtains.

Your name fell gently from his lips into the air, as though any louder and nature would scurry away. Maybe it would, with how his voice so often boomed, how it carried through walls, your muscles and bones.

Teeth bite down from saying a comment, the words thankfully catching as you turn to find him with a small porcelain plate in hand, and on top of it, the choux cake from the bakery window yesterday.

“Happy birthday, love.”

It pulls from you with ease, your smile. More so as he pulls his other hand from behind his back, a single candle and lighter in between his fingers.

“Bit different from how we spent the last one, aye?”

“A touch.”

He laughs, in that low way that he does. “C’mere then, gotta blow out y’candles for me.”

“Do you want me to make a wish too?”

“If there’s something y’wanna wish for, why not?”

There isn’t.

You think, placing the mug down on the side table, shuffling towards him as you feel your face burn and your ears warm.

I’d only wish for you, John.

The two of you promised not to mix work with pleasure.

Something you had both done well at keeping until Laswell called. Her voice is all direct, but with an added sprinkle of softness—the tone you’ve come to know as begging.

It’s different from the one she uses when she’s sitting at your table, a bottle of wine undone and John’s hand on your knee.

That’s Kate.

A friend—someone who doesn’t like brussels sprouts with their roasts, but likes broccoli and peas.

His lack of surprise told you he’d been briefed, but the clench of his fist told you he wasn’t happy about it. The microexpressions of Captain John Price are well ingrained in you—having spent years learning them, curating a museum dedicated to them in your mind.

No one knows the two of you are… well…would you say together? Kate, when we figure it out, I’ll let you know.

If he hated you being around him here, in his task force he’d handpicked, he said nothing. Nodding firmly, all short. Handing you a file and continuing with the briefing.

After it finishes, it’s easy to accept a drink.

To fall behind the silent, tallest member—the one you have heard of the most—and the smiling Scot, the one who was bursting with questions that he wouldn’t allow himself to ask.

He waits until there’s a drink in both your hands. Gesturing it to you, beating John—something you’re not entirely sure if he’s happy about or not.

“Ash not your name then?”

“Is Soap yours?”

The Scot smirks, teeth slowly appearing. “Y’funny, lass.”

“Ash3—arsine.”

Soap’s brows knit, having already lost him—confused him. A sight which almost makes you chuckle, allowing it to escape if not for the way you feel him stare. All silent, still brooding—likely trying to unpick how he feels about this.

“It’s a colourless gas,” you continue. “Highly flammable. It apparently smells like garlic—I hear. Can’t tell you if it’s true—it’s quite poisonous.”

Soap’s head tilts, and you allow your eyes to scan over the others. But you linger on a pair of blue eyes not beside you, watching as the captain smirks against his glass, hat tilted down to cast shadows over his eyes—like you wouldn’t be able to feel them sweeping over you in thick, torturous waves.

“I like to make things go boom and I like garlic, Soap.”

He’s scrunching his nose when you look back at him.

“She’s windin’ you up, Johnny.”

You grin, tilting your glass in Ghost’s direction.

“He’s right, I am kidding, it’s actually because—”

“Lass, if there’s more science, I cannae’ take it.”

You nudge him as you laugh, swirling your glass, the ice having slowly melted. “What’s left behind after things go boom, Soap?”

“Smoke. Death… shit—ash.”

You smirk, lifting your glass as you drain it. “Boom.”

Boom, you think when your back meets brick.

A firm hand on your hip, another hand flat against the space close to your head—an explosion of sorts happening behind blue eyes, making you unsure if you’re about to be ripped apart or made to feel whole.

Momentarily, he throws it all away as he slots his mouth over yours. Having some semblance of normal as he kisses his love, his adoration and appreciation with each movement of his lips.

“Y’shouldn’t be here.”

“Oops.”

John grits his jaw, tightening it. “Love—”

“Who better to keep me safe, than my Captain.”

“I’m everyone’s Captain.”

You shrug, drawing shapes on his jaw—his chin. “John.”

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

“That’s better.”

The sixth time his bones were aching, muscles heavy.

The two of you were running on fumes and prayers.

Neither of you were able to sleep the night before. You had tried, but the memories the two of you had made in his place, had made you nostalgic.

Needing him. Wanting him. Never tiring of him even if packing had almost taken you to a new level of exhaustion.

John had been more than obliging to fuck you slow, deep. Making you still feel him, even now, hours and hours later. A goodbye to the place, to the memories, and just because.

Each time he gets the chance, John makes up for the times he couldn’t. Making you whimper, shiver and cry his name. He leaves little marks on your skin that he goes to find a day or two later, either remaking them or kissing them softly.

Your hands clutch the box, carrying it through the bright red door, the sea of black writing scribbled against brown boxes greets your eyes in the empty room.

It had been a dream—a pipe dream. One you’d let take you to sleep when the wind ran through trees and rain hammered against leaking ceilings.

It had been there, something to cling to when he’d held your skin together. It rolled from your tongue in slow whispers when he’d been injured, providing something to hold on to. To fight for.

Now, it was a reality.

All real and magnolia, with a white ornate fireplace he said he’d fuck you in front of in the winter. The fireplace is the second thing in your life you truly fell in love with—the first being him.

It warms you, the memories. Even as the spring weather slides through the open door, biting into exposed skin. His scent is already nestling into the corners of the home you’ll share, greeting you as you return with the last box.

You watch him dig his thumbs into his back, keeping an eye on him as he stares around—likely taking in the blessed reality the two of you were able to carve.

“Honey, I’m home.”

He looks over his shoulder, sweat beading on his forehead, tiredness swirling around his eyes, but he still chuckles. Still smiles.

“Y’gonna say that each time you bring a box in?”

“Unless you can think of some other way to keep me quiet, yeah.”

He snorts, a short puff of air as he takes the box from your hands—placing it on top of the others.

You fully expect him to walk past you, not bracing as he tugs you forward, pulling you by your hips into him—palm flat to his chest and the other on his arm.

So often, his smile is tight, almost like it’s forced. But here, under the roof the two of you bought and the walls you’ll slowly decorate, it’s gentle, soft—full of love.

“Better.”

“What?”

He shrugs, studying you as he slides his hand down your spine to cup the back of your jeans. “Y’being this close.”

“Sweet talker.”

“Only for you, love.”

“I’ve seen you on missions, John. I know you can turn that on and off like this.”

Your fingers click, eyes shimmering and smirk full of teasing.

You know he’s yours. The light catching the metal on his finger all being proof of it. Remembering the way he danced with you under flickering fairy lights to a slow song full of romance and guitars. Him in a suit, you in something white.

Now, the walls of your new home you’re both standing in cementing it—how much he’s yours.

Always been yours, love. Even if you don’t know the lyrics to the good songs.

Wrapping your arm around his neck, you nuzzle into his neck, staring around—unsure how two people amass so much when they’re barely home.

“Lots of rooms.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Swiping your tongue across your bottom lip, you lift your head, tilting your hips into his. Watching a mini explosion happen in his eyes—darkness blooming across blue, swirling and dancing until it tries to hide in the shadows.

“Your back able to fuck me in each of the ground floor rooms, or you tired, old man?”

His jaw tightens, lips pursing as he brings you flush against him. “Less of the old, soldier.”

“Oo, soldier? Apologies, Captain.”

He grins, breath dancing over your skin as he ghosts his lips so close—almost brushing them to meet yours. “Haven’t given you your birthday present yet.”

Smiling, you let your fingers flutter over his chin. “Colour me intrigued.”

“Close the front door, love. Don’t want the neighbours to hear you thanking me for being a good gift giver.”

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price cod #john price #cod price x reader #cod price #cod x reader #cod john price #captain price #captain price x reader #cod captain price #price x reader #john price x female reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #captain price x you

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triangle-strategy-notes · 29 days ago

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Giovanna Concept Art

Giovanna's concept art! Translation notes and image ids below the cut.

Translation Notes:

"Mineral Maniac" could also have been "Mineral Mania".

"Pre-game, fatigued" was a little ambiguous because the kanji at the end wasn't really a word, but the character had a potential meaning of "to become fatigued", so I just went with that.

"100% bedhead" was literally "all bedhead" or "complete bedhead."

All the sound effects were swapped out for more English-sounding ones. The "YAAAWN" was "Fwahh", the "SHING" was "PAAA", and the "Mnn" was "Naa".

"For the sake of research, the chosen dyes were applied..." was a little hard to parse and I feel like I might have missed some of the meaning. Literally it seemed something more like "for the good of research, the right/right-hand dyes were used on..."

"Boots from school for ease of mining" was also kind of weird, might have been saying something more like "cheap school mining boots [to be used for mining]"

The "Gal Who Studies the Playing Field" heading was literally something like "Game-Board Studying Guy [gender neutral]".

The "Gal Who Studies the Playing Field" heading and the same heading but with "Alternate" attached seem to kind of be swapped, but that was how it was on the original page, so I left it.

Image Id:

[id: Two pages of concept art from the Triangle Strategy artbook centered around Giovanna. The first page has a colored and uncolored version of her canon portrait, as well as a designer's note that reads, "The contrast between Giovanna's soft, fluffy design and the sharpness of the rock is really an appealing point of contrast, isn't it? (Rina Yoshiura)".

The second page has several drawings of Giovanna, most of which highlight her sleepiness or her messy outfit. She's labeled "Mineral Maniac", and her necklace has a note that reads, "The stone around her neck is the first one she ever found." She holds a shining gem with a "SHING…" sound effect. One sleepy drawing is labeled "Pre-game, fatigued". By her hair on another drawing is a note that says, "True color is blonde, messy parts are dyed sections." A note pointing to her lab coat reads, "For the sake of research, the chosen dyes are applied to the clothes and hair". She is noted to have large gloves and large boots as well as a pair of magnifying glasses with lenses that can be lifted and lowered. Another note explains that she "wears a lab coat over her underclothes". Next to a sleepy and disgruntled drawing there is some dialogue that reads, "Mnn… What a hassle… I'll just put off whatever I don't want to do". Another drawing of her yawning has the caption "Always sleeping" and "100% bedhead".

The second half of the page is labeled "Gal Who Studies the Playing Field (Geologist?)" and "Gal Who Studies the Playing Field (Geologist) Alternate". There is a drawing of a much more severe version of Giovanna with dark hair and a scholar's outfit. Some details are pointed out, including some suspenders on the back of the outfit and a small ice axe and case of mining accessories that she wears on her hip. There is also a caption that reads, "Uses the first gemstone she found on her own as a brooch." Another note points to her boots and reads, "Boots from school for ease of mining". An illustrator's note at the bottom of the page reads, "Using the uptight-looking young woman on the lower half as a springboard, she eventually became an eccentric character who's completely absorbed in researching stones and wears a lab coat over her underthings. The colorful paints on her clothes are pigments extracted from the stones. (Urushihara Tatsuaki) /end id]

#triangle strategy #ts artbook character ref sheets #triangle strategy artbook #giovanna koppel #whenever I look at giovanna I'm simultaneously going 'haha same :)' and 'GIRL GET YOUR LIFE TOGETHER....... '#we are unfortunately two peas in a dysfunctional constantly-spacing-out pod #but I love her lots and her character stories still make me cry laugh #and!!!! she's also the last playable character I had to translate! still have more NPCs like symon and silvio #but the main 30 on the team roster are all now finished #one of these days I want to put together a pdf that's essentially just the book in english #maybe once I have the NPCs done I'll work on that #then keep it updated as I go through the environmental stuff

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wonderfull-star · 6 months ago

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Me before watching season 1 of Undervese fully: Wow, it's Ink! The well-known funny skeleton artist! Yes, he is also on the same side with the Classic, Fell and Swap! And he'll definitely be on their side until the very end of the season, right? Right…?

Me after watching the season 1 fully: What the hell is going on in this series??! Who is the hero and who is the villain??! And why did an incomprehensible, terrifying inky demonic creature straight from the deepest depths of hell stare straight into my soul??

Even Nightmare was a little scared! Although I didn’t expect this from him. Of course, I saw a lot of videos where Ink is depicted as soulless with an evil, scary face, but I still didn’t expect such a large-scale betrayal. Ink is a real scammer. When I watched the episodes, Error seemed MUCH more sane to me. At least he was doing his job all along. Error even concluded a truce with Ink and canceling of which Ink was to blame. What did Ink do throughout the series? Yes, anything but definitely NOT the protection of au’s. Oh yes, I remembered! For him it's just a game! And no, I’m not discussing the problem of the plot, but rather its merits. Like.. Yes, yes! This is what I expected! They showed us what Ink really is like without his paints. And that is, that person on which it is definitely better NOT to rely. Not only because of his memory problems and many oddities, but also because, having lost his paints, he will simply not care about anyone(well,even with emotions, sometimes Ink doesn’t care either). When I looked at the moments with Error I was like: what’s wrong? I've seen many people portray him as a crazy psychopath (well maybe a little) while Ink is portrayed as a "hero". However, I had mixed feelings while watching it. While at least Error was fulfilling his purpose, Ink sometimes did all sorts of nonsense, pretending to be a “good guy” and disappearing at the most inopportune moment. Error didn’t even intend to touch anyone at first. Until, of course, Ink and Fresh came to interfere and started acting like idiots. Now I don’t even remember why at one point Ink came to Error (when he was just watching Undernovela). Probably just to torment him (as he usually does in company with Fresh). Fresh is just added here for background. For the beauty and aesthetics of the series, so to speak. And Error basically like a punching bag. Now I don’t understand why Nightmare still hasn’t joined all this “fun” of Ink and Fresh. I'm sure that there are more negative emotions in Error himself than in all multiverses. Oh, yes, then there would be such an exciting plot where Nightmare carries poor XChara, exhausted and beaten by life, across all the damn multiverses for the sake of his sadistic pleasure (Nightmare, your true goal is in the anti-void,tho).

I just feel sorry for Classic, Fell and Swap. They were the most suffered by what was happening. In Undertale, everyone was waiting for Sans to finally come to a stupid picnic, while Cross deleted Fell’s whole damn Snowdin, and for Swap, his entire universe was destroyed while its inhabitants were in a stolen Underfell's Snowdin and stood motionless like mannequins in an abandoned clothing store 💀

What a funny Undertale cartoon 😊

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atla-genderbender · 10 months ago

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ATLA Gender Bender: Firelord Ozai

"You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher."

The principle behind this AU is to swap the genders of the main cast (Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Zuko) and other characters where it enhances the story. This means that most child characters, like Azula and Suki, are also swapped, but adults are swapped on a case by case basis. This is especially true for characters who had a formative influence on the main characters, like parents and other role models. If you swap a given character and their parent(al figure)s, this alters the character's personality more than swapping that character without swapping their parents. Sometimes this effect is subtle, and sometimes it is large. This is why I would avoid swapping the genders of a character's parents, unless it makes sense to do so.

In the case of Zuko's parents, I do not think it detracts from the story to swap their genders. I would even go so far to say that some things are enhanced by swapping both Ozai and Ursa. Female Ozai fits surprisingly well into the role of an "evil empress". "Urson" also works as a "papa bear" character. A female Ozai would contrast well with a female Zuko, serving as a "good queen" "evil queen" dichotomy. I also find it fascinating to think about what would change and what would stay the same if Ozai's gender was also swapped.

I picture female Ozai being no less evil or sadistic as normal Ozai. Unlike Ozai, she would have to maintain the image of a good mother to her children, and a good daughter to her father. This is especially interesting if she is the first female Fire Lord in a line of male Fire Lords. She would be a queen who has to strike the perfect balance of femininity and power in order to please her court. A woman who possesses bewitching beauty to conceal a wicked, sadistic soul. I think she would be very narcissistic and cruel, obsessed with being beautiful and powerful at once.

I attempted to convey this through her design, which could be tweaked in many respects. To explain the rationale behind her design, the Fire Lords of Avatar draw from East and Southeast Asian influences. Firelord Ozai's hairstyle is Chinese inspired (see: atlaculture.tumblr.com/post/65…), but his clothing is Burmese inspired (see: atlaculture.tumblr.com/post/63…). As such, I decided to base the hairstyles of female Fire Lords on East Asian hairstyles worn by female rulers.

It feels inevitable that female Ozai would be compared to Wu Zetian. I wanted to minimize these comparisons, and make it clear that female Ozai is not supposed to be a representation of Wu Zetian. Doing so would unfairly demonize a real historical figure. Still, I could not resist including a couple of elements inspired by Fan Bingbing as Wu Zetian in "The Empress of China" (see: dwvyw8kf1avne.cloudfront.net/s…). This is what inspired female Ozai's red makeup, and the stylized phoenix headdress that she wears. Other design elements are not inspired by Wu Zetian, but other portrayals of powerful queens and empresses in Chinese dramas. Namely, Empress Du Feihong in "The Glamorous Imperial Concubine". I hope that the final design is so stylized that it is clear that she is not supposed to represent a real historical figure. I attempted to simplify her headdress in a way that could be easy enough to animate while still making it clear that she is wearing a ridiculous amount of gold and rubies on her head. This is meant to contrast with female Zuko's design. Where female Zuko is humble, female Ozai is vain.

In the end, I am dissatisfied with the design I came up with, for reasons I will explain under "OUTFIT DESCRIPTIONS".

This design approach diverges from the design principles behind the one female Firelord shown in Avatar, that being Izumi. I took liberties with hairstyles, but did not change the masculine style of robes. I felt this would diverge too far from the pre-established rules of Avatar. Additionally, I think it creates an interesting contrast between a feminine hairstyle and masculine robes, especially if Ozai and "Zuka" are the first female Firelords in a long series of male Firelords.

The phoenix imagery actually makes more sense if Ozai was a woman, since the fenghuang is traditionally a feminine entity. I also think it would be cool if she was still named "Ozai", kind of like how "Ty Lee" is very feminine but has a masculine name. It would also imply that "Ozai" isn't the name she was born with, but a name she adopted for its meaning "large presence".

I picture Grey Griffin as the voice of female Ozai. Specifically, how she voices adult characters, like Ming Hua in LOK and the female Viltrumite from Invincible. I don't think that she should have the same voice as Azula, but Grey Griffin could give her a venomous and vicious voice that would fit her really well.

OUTFIT DESCRIPTIONS:

1: Firelord Costume

I am dissatisfied with the hairstyle I came up with for female Ozai's Firelord costume. I have written previously about my concerns that viewers would conflate her with the real life Wu Zetian. In order to minimize these comparisons, I tried to make elements of her hairstyle abstract instead of authentic to real life costumes. However, I do not think I was successful in achieving my goal. When I first started drawing female Ozai, I knew little about hanfu, and have since learned more about traditional Chinese costumes. The crown that I gave her is clearly inspired by fengguan, which is a distinctly Chinese element. Given Ozai's affinity for phoenixes, I can't not picture female Ozai wearing some sort of fengguan. The design I came up with is flawed, as it is something that "looks Chinese" without being authentic to Chinese costume design. This could come across as offensive. The best approach would be to fuse the Chinese element of the fengguan with other cultural influences, so that the result is something that is not specifically Chinese. I took some time to try to come up with a better design, but to be transparent I am approaching creative burn out with this project and was unable to come up with a better design. I guess this speaks to my limits as an artist.

With all of this said, these designs are best viewed as a first draft and not the final product. These are meant to give an impression of what her character would look like, and could use more sets of eyes to review and improve the design.

2: "Phoenix Queen" Costume

In the second costume, her cape is somewhat inspired by Maleficent's cape in "Sleeping Beauty". Maleficent's appearance also helped inspire female Ozai's widow's peak and facial structure. As I mentioned before, her costume is inspired by the real life apsara. She has dressed herself in the image of a goddess of fire.

3: "Phoenix Queen" Costume, after removing crown and cape

The third costume is supposed to be how female Ozai would appear at the start of her fight with "Aangi". I intended for her to have the same body type as the female Viltrumite "Thula" from "Invincible". I also think that female Ozai's voice would sound like Thula's. I picture her as a warrior queen who spends a lot of time training, giving her an athletic and muscular appearance. I think she would appear more physically intimidating if she has some muscle mass on her frame. This being said, there are a lot of different athletic body types. A less bulky but athletic body type could arguably fit her better.

4: Appearance after being defeated by "Aangi"

The fourth costume is supposed to be how female Ozai would appear at the end of her fight with "Aangi". Since she doesn't have a goattee, I think "Aangi" would grab her by the gold part of her top. I think it would be cool and dramatic if "Aangi" ripped this part of her costume off. In the heat of battle, female Ozai loses the gold parts of her costume, and a waterbending attack by "Aangi" washes off her makeup, exposing her as a false goddess.

Her finger nails and toenails are painted and sharpened, to resemble the talons of a phoenix.

Like what I’m doing? Consider leaving me a donation via Ko-Fi.

#ozai #avatar the last airbender #atla genderbender #genderbending #rule 63 #gender bender #genderswap #genderbend #my art #my headcanons

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obxone · 2 years ago

Note

Heyy,I would like to make a flansty request for JJ 28. and 24. with some fluffy ending perhaps?

I love your writing sm!

I hope you enjoy! Thank you for your request!

“JJ is here,” Kiara murmurs in your ear as she passes you on her way to deliver the food to her tables. You grimace as you let yourself back into the main room of the restaurant.

You notice the three pogue boys crossing the room to take a few empty seats at the bar that stretches across the left wall. John B is in front, with JJ right behind him. Your skin prickles at being near him again after last night.

“Hey!” John B flashes his teeth in a bright smile when he sees you. The smile quickly vanishes when he takes in your face. “What the hell happened?”

“I fell down the stairs,” you offer, shouldering quickly past them before JJ and Pope can get a good look at you. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” John B mutters, following behind you closely. You step behind the bar, and he starts to follow, but Kiara’s dad is there preventing him.

“Not happening, John B.”

He groans with a roll of his eyes before he turns his attention back to you. “Who did that?”

You sigh and turn to look at him as you wipe down the bar top to keep from meeting his gaze. “Stairs. I fell last night. I should’ve paid more attention.”

“Stairs?” JJ asks, leaning onto his elbows across the bar top now. You look at him, your shared secrets are unspoken between you. He frowns, hands tightening into fists.

“I fell.”

John B scoffs before reaching across to lift your chin. You jerk back and slap away his hand.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Don’t lie to us.”

“Guys,” Pope tries to intervene to keep the peace. Aware of the bustling restaurant and the prying eyes of Kiara’s dad.

“She’s lying,” Kiara mutters when she appears. “Dad, can we have a moment?”

“Sure, Sweetheart,” he responds, looking at you, but you ignore it. He goes and you sigh and lift your head, knowing that this would not end until they got what they wanted.

“Jesus!” Pope reaches forward to touch your face, but you take a half step back and wince, turning your face away. The curtain of your hair covers the damage.

“Why are you lying?” JJ growls.

A sinking feeling consumes you at his accusation. Last time he had sworn he would not keep your secret any more, and he would not let you lie to your friends. He is holding true to his words as he stares at you accusingly.

“I. Fell. Down. The. Stairs.”

“Bullshit!”

“JJ!” Kiara and you both respond as a few surrounding tables flick their gazes over to your group at his outburst.

“Sorry, but don’t lie to us! No secrets amongst Pogues. We agreed.” He says, those blue eyes burning with concern as he stares at you.

“I’m not a pogue,” you say, your tone much sharper than you intended as you toss the cleaning cloth onto the bar top. “Full-blooded kook, remember?”

His eyes flash with regret at your words, and he withdraws from leaning over the counter. “I tried to apologize.”

“But you meant what you said last night,” you supply, nodding your head as you fight back tears. “And you are right, JJ, I’m not a pogue. I don’t belong.”

“You said that?!” Kiara turns her dark eyes on JJ, who immediately looks down at the top of his boots. Shame filling him.

“Not cool,” Pope mutters. John B seconds it not so subtly, and you sigh before turning to swap out the drink canisters to brew a new batch of sweet tea.

“It’s fine, guys. JJ is right.”

“JJ is not right,” Kiara snaps and reaches for you, but you dodge her attempt.

“He is,” you say again, meeting his gaze head on. “Right, JJ?”

“No.” He stares at you still, ignoring the burning, angry gazes of his friends. “My girlfriend is a pogue, through and through.”

You close your eyes, and it causes a tear to roll down your cheek, but you quickly wipe it away. “I’m taking a fifteen minute break. Don’t follow me. Any of you.”

Without waiting for them to respond, you quickly slip outside and plant yourself down on a curb stop at the end of the parking lot.

“You are lying,” JJ says, plopping down next to you. “Stairs, really?”

“What do you expect me to say?” You ask, turning to look at him. “Mommy Dearest hurts me? She is madam governor of the entire island, no one will believe me.”

JJ frowns and scrubs his hand down his face. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, leaning against his side. Your head on his shoulder.

“What can I do?”

“Just hold my hand, please.”

He does, his larger hand enclosing yours. Your fingers thread through the spaces between his.

“We can’t pick our family, right?” you whisper.

JJ does not respond, instead, his lips press to the crown of your head. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“We both said things.” You squeeze his hand. “I love you, Jay.”

“I love you.”

You smile before turning your head to look at him. He grins, flashing his dimple before his lips press to your forehead.

“I don’t want to be without you.” You confess.

“Me either.” He drops his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my family.”

“You are mine too. Even if I’m a full blooded kook.”

“Don’t ruin this, Baby.”

You giggle, and he joins before sighing. “Can you come to stay at the Chateau for a few days?”

“I have a bag in my car. It was either the Chateau or Kiara’s.”

“She’ll sober up soon.” He rubs his hand up and down your side, and you hum in agreement.

"She always does," you supply before smiling again. "It just means I get time alone with my boyfriend and our best friends."

"P4L."

#outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x you #request

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sofasoap · 1 year ago

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Lastochka AU - Strange blind date

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: One and only time you want to twist Gaz's neck off.

AU to my Lastochka series

WARNING: Mature Theme. Crack Fic. I repeat. Crack fic. don’t take it so seriously. Swearing, alcohol use, innuendos.

A/N : part 2!!! I don't know. Thanks to @siilvan for bouncing and plotting the story with me, and @nrdmssgs post inspired me.

masterlist

“Oh Crap.” Gaz quickly flicks his eyes towards his phone, looking at the caller ID flashing up on the screen. He knew the time had come. He threw his controller towards Soap as he grabbed his phone, he mumbled, “Wish me luck.”

“Why?” Soap stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth as he took over the controller and the game.

“Someone is going to kill me.” With that parting word and look of confusion on Soap’s face, Gaz quickly darted out of the common room and into the corridor.

“KYLE GARRICK!!!” Quickly pull his phone away from him, ears ringing from you screaming down the phone.

“DID YOU REALISE WHO YOU SET ME UP WITH FOR THE DATE?!!!”

“Come on, trust me on this!” Gaz pleads.

Throwing the last bit of your clothes into the washing machine, you swap the phone onto the other side of your shoulder as you put the powders into the washing compartment, “Last few times you said this, it turned into disaster.”

“Well, not all of them ended in disaster??”

“Well, how about that IT guy? He was nice enough wasn’t he?” Gaz said meekly.

“How about that girl you set me up with in London?” You huffed as you slammed the machine door closed and set it to wash. “She was only using me to try to get close to Johnny!”

Oh you felt an off vibe from that girl the moment you sat down. She wouldn’t shut up about Johnny, and she practically ignored you when he came to pick you up at the end of the date, eyes all glued on him.

“He was nice , yes, but to be honest? Too nice and bland.” you sighed. You felt bad for that guy. There were moments of good conversation, but there was no chemistry there. You ended up introducing him to your mate instead, and now they are happily together. You two stayed as friends.

“Alright, trust me on this one really.” he emphasised on the word trust.

“I am having a very hard time trusting your judgement on people’s character now.” You sighed. For someone who is in such a elite task force and the only person in his batch to endure both physical and mental torture simulation? He is really crap at seeing through people’s true character.

“Price knows him personally, so you know he is a good quality sort. I guarantee you he will treat you nicely.” Gaz reassures you.

And you let Gaz talk you into it. Again.

“He will come and pick you up. I’ll send you the details! Don’t worry, I already warned him of all your likes and dislikes.” You really don’t like that conspiring tone he has in his voice. He is up to something. You know your friend.

Standing right in front of your apartment, all nicely dressed up, you begin to wonder what this person is like?Is he young? Or older? Does he live in this part of the world as well?

A black car suddenly pulls out as your mind was clouded with dark thoughts, you snapped back into reality as you heard it honking at you.

Price knows him, so there is a high chance of him being in the military? You seriously don’t think Price has much of a social life outside work. To be honest, dating a military man wasn’t on top of your list. You have enough heartaches sending your brother and friends off on mission all the time and not knowing in what state they will return. Walking out of the gate, or being rolled off the plane in a body bag.

Hum. somehow it looks very familiar. Too familiar.You narrowed your eyes with suspicion.

A dark slicked back hair man with an aviator stepped out from the driver side of the car, with a huge smirk on his face.

Fuck.

“Hello Lastochka, we have met again.” Pulling down his aviator, “You look very beautiful.” he commented casually.

“Why are you here?! Are you stalking me?” Stepping back from the kerb, ignoring his compliment, you questioned him alarmingly.. Maybe it’s time to move house, or find a new job. Or maybe you need to move countries. Or go underground.

Nikolai’s lip turned down, feigning a hurt expression on his face. “Come on, not happy to see me?” he lamented.

“I don’t need to see you today. I am waiting for someone to pick me up.” You wave your hand dismissively, trying to be as polite as possible.” Now can you please move along.”

Nikolai blinked a few times, slight surprise and amusement on his face. “ What are you talking about? I am here to pick you up for your date.”

Ok, he is definitely stalking you. “How do you know I have a date?”

“I know your date very well, let’s just say.” That cryptic smile on his face again.

You already started plotting all sort of different ways to torture or kill Gaz in your mind.

“How?”

Putting his hand over his heart, winking, “I am your date, my little bird.”

He chuckled as he observed the different expressions flashing across your face.

“Don’t blame Gaz or Price for this. I asked them first.”

Nikolai walked around the other side of the car, he opened the passenger side door, bowing like a butler as he urged you into the car. You feel like de javu, you have no choice but sighed and gave up on resisting, and slid into the car.

Ok, add Captain Price onto the hit list as well. At this moment you are beyond care that he is your brother’s superior or someone who you look up to almost as a life mentor.

After a short drive and parking his car, you had a good look. He brought you to the riverside boardwalk, a nice part of the city centre where your new colleagues had mentioned about when you ask them what and where are places to explore in this city.

“I booked a table at a bistro on the side of the river, they serve really good local food. Gaz mentioned you haven’t had a chance to try out the local cuisine?” he smiled down at you warmly.

Shaking your head to answer his question, “Been too busy with moving house and thrown straight into work. I haven’t had time to really check out this area yet.”

Holding his hand out, waiting for you to accept his invitation. You gulped. Is this really a good idea?

“You’ll love the food there. Come. We still have a bit of time before the restaurant opens. Let’s take a walk along the river?”

Before you can register, your arm is already out stretched, he gently takes your hand into his large callous hand. So warm. So… safe?Taking a peek at his side profile as both of you stroll down the walkway. A face etch and hardened with traces of battle and wars, you noted. A tired fatigue hidden behind the wall of resoluteness. A look you are too familiar with. Your heart actually aches at the thought. Aching for him.

“Now, along this river.. Is where the civil war started.” pointing towards the far side of the river, “ they tried to land a helicopter there, but ended up crashing it.” he sighed. “A pity. It was quite a nice one too.”

He pulls you in closer to him, carefully shielding you from the large group walking towards you, crowding the walkway, leaving limited space to pass through.

You can feel the heat radiating through his body, hint of leathery musk and sandalwood smell of his cologne and familiar whiff of cigar you often smell on Price. You instinctively lean in even closer to him. Wanting to smell him more. Feel him more.

It feels very intimate. Almost.. romantic?

Ok. scratch that. The romantic level suddenly dropped below negative.

The rest of the walk was dotted with anecdotes of historical facts of the city, occasionally him pointing out good spots to hang out or to avoid.

Dinner was full of surprises too. True to Gaz’s word, he already knows what your likes and dislikes are, and ever being the gentleman, pulls the chair out for you, lets you decide on the food, the drinks, and makes small suggestions here and there.

When you flick your eyes at him, silently asking for help when the waiter starts speaking in a local dialect which you haven’t quite got the hang of, he slides in to help, without pushing in and overtaking the whole situation.

He let you lead the conversation during dinner. Letting you ask him all the questions. Almost all the questions.

This man is officially a bigger flirt than Johnny. You declared.

Probing him carefully, “Nikolai isn’t your real name, is it?”

“Why would you want to know?” Taking a sip of his grappa, he leaned slightly forward, closer to you, “So you can call out my name… in private?”

“In your dreams.” tapping your fingers on the table, “First date is still in progress. We haven’t even decided on a second date yet.” you scoffed, face heating up slightly with embarrassment.

Cocking his eyebrow, “Oh? Already thinking about the future?”

“I am a planner. I like to think ahead.” He wants to be a tease? So can you.

His smile broadens as you banter with him. Why does he look so pleased?

At the end of the night,he walked you to your door, making sure you got in safely. This is where you two part ways for the evening. But not before he grabbed one of your hands carefully, cupping your face with another, gently caressing your cheek with a thumb. He murmured a few words in Russian, voice too low for you to catch anything. Looking into your eyes with his deep brown orbs, he brings up your hand, lip lingering on your knuckle for a few seconds, and finally giving it a soft kiss, and bid you goodnight.

Leaving you standing there, stunned. And burning like a furnace.

Holy heaven. You are NOT falling for this charismatic man already. No. You are NOT.

“You set me up with HIM! The guy who threw you out of the helo and nearly killed you!” You screamed again.

“Well I am still alive…?”

“.... it was actually nice.” you admitted, begrudgingly. “He wants to take me on a second date.”

“And he nearly killed me by driving like a maniac!” you slump into bed, haven’t bothered to change out of your dress.

“You lived? Didn’t you? And you got to work on time.” He laughed. “So, are you going to tell me how the date went?”

“Did you say yes?”

You bit your lip. “Um…..”

“Ah,come Lastochka, let me take you on a helicopter ride and show you around this beautiful city! Don’t worry, You will be nicely secured with a seat belt. I promise I won’t throw you out of the cockpit like I did to Gaz”

Lord have mercy, why did you agree to this second date?

Tag list:

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@preciouslittlecreature@floral-force@jynxmirage@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

@glitterypirateduck

@whydoilikewhump

@alypink

@liyanahelena

@caramlizedtomatos

@ashwasherelol

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