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aurathian · 2 years ago

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leather -- ao3

for @zelinktines23 -- prompt leather

She went to bed that night cold. Silk was always chilly.

She was born in the lap of luxury. From birth, Zelda knew glittering gems, poofy, expensive dresses, the finest foods and the softest fabrics. She spent her days with the most exclusive tutors and among the perfectly manicured flowers of the courtyards. In the morning, she woke up long after the sun, and then her maids would gently, relaxingly prepare her for the day. In the afternoons, she’d have a large lunch, attend lessons, and read her books in the grand library. By the evening, after feasting on whatever gourmet cuisine was served that night, she was in a silk nightgown, crawling under her silk covers and resting atop her silk pillow. Princess Zelda had not known hardship until she met him.

She was eight when she met Link, son of the leather craftsman who was one of the sole suppliers of leather goods to the Royal Army. Her father, the King, was close friends with him, and Zelda always saw him requesting a new bag or riding gear for her mother or herself.

She liked Link. When he would visit on delivery days, she’d invite him to play in the garden. When he was over, they played like she never had before. When she played in the courtyards with the children of her mother’s friends, they had teatime or played with dolls or talked about boys and their cooties. When Link was over, it got dirty.

He launched balls made of various substances–mud, moss, clumpy dirt, sometimes snow–at her, usually dirtying her dress but oh how she did not care, because for once she really felt like they were playing, not just making polite conversation over hand-me-down, antique dolls because they had to. She launched mud balls and snowballs and dirt balls right back at him.

By the end of it, she would get a scolding from her mother, but she didn’t really mind; the reprimands were worth it.

Which is why that night she had invited him to sit on her bed next to her.

After he left, laying in her smooth, cool sheets, she wished she could smell leather again. That earthy, slightly sweet scent that seemed to follow her knight everywhere he went. Sure, some of that aroma lingered on the silk of her bed, but it was different. It was so much more pleasant when he was really there and she could feel his skin under her fingertips and his hand in her hair…

Maybe she had gone too far. Maybe she had pushed him by begging him to place his hand on her barren shoulder (scandalous!) or to look her in the eyes. For a pair as inseparable as they were, both by duty and feelings, they barely even made eye contact.

Zelda hated the protocol, and she hated how obedient Link was. Just once, she wanted to unravel him. Just once, she wanted him to put his hand on her body because he chose to. Just once.

She went to bed that night cold. Silk was always chilly.

And that next morning she rose at her usual time and did her usual things with her usual personal knight, who acted as he usually did: silent and unfazed, like nothing happened. It was a usual day.

Even though Link was acting like normal, she wanted to know if he was thinking like normal, too. She certainly wasn’t. Anytime she addressed him, her eyes wandered down to his lips. He kept his trained on whatever was behind her, be it a wall or a window. Sometimes, he knelt on the floor. Was it because he didn’t want to talk to her? Did he hate her now? He was supposed to kneel when he was addressed by anybody of royal stature, but they had spent so many years together that this was… unusual.

“What are you doing?” she asked him at one point, her tone biting and sharp. He winced.

“Kneeling, princess, as I am meant to,” he mumbled. Link couldn’t see it, facing his leather boots on the ground, but tears pricked the eyes of the princess he was sworn to protect.

“Fine,” she hissed, turning and walking away. Obediently, he stood and followed.

They turned a corner where a maid scuttled up to them and told the princess that a new leather delivery was here, and that her father requested she receive it since he was unavailable. Of course, Zelda obliged, and the princess and her knight made their way to the courtyard which was riddled with trainees, some in pairs and others sparring with dummies. At the entrance was Link’s father with a wagon of boxes.

Zelda knew how the deliveries worked. She often accompanied her father to receive them. She also knew that most of these boxes weren’t for the army, but for the nobility who visited the castle often enough that they simply had their commissions delivered there instead. Bags, clothes, sometimes furniture.

“Hello, your highness,” Link’s father greeted warmly. “And my son.” To his son, he nodded, and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s a big delivery this week.”

He began unloading the boxes while Zelda signed off on some paperwork. Link and some other soldiers nearby helped haul the boxes off the wagon and to the side. By the end, there was only one small box left, which Link’s father picked up and handed to Zelda.

“For you, princess,” he said.

“Oh, but I didn’t–”

“No, no, I’m sure you did.”

Link’s father took his wagon and rushed away, leaving a befuddled princess with a tiny box. When she glanced at Link with a brow arched in confusion, he only shrugged and looked past her.

She continued with more of her usual duties and then at nighttime, as usual, her personal knight hung about her room while she brushed her hair. Except they were both silent and it almost turned her red–not with embarrassment.

“Link,” she said, his name slicing the still air, “I’m sorry.”

Her anger was at herself.

“What?”

“We can’t act like nothing happened,” she sighed, setting the brush down. “I’m sorry. Last night– I– I shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”

Link didn’t say anything, only hung his head and twiddled with his thumbs–so unusual of him–and kept quiet.

“I feel bad. I know you don’t feel that way, and it was a mistake for me to… to even think of that.”

“Zelda,” he mumbled, “you never opened the box my father gave you.”

“Huh?”

“Just open it.”

It sat on her nightstand, the cords holding it shut still intact. She’d wondered about its contents all day but never had a moment to open it. Tentatively, Zelda reached over and grasped it, pulled it back to her, and carefully unwound the cords. She pried it open and fished around inside, moving aside the tissue stuffed in to ensure whatever was inside didn’t break.

It was a jewelry box. A dark, simple jewelry box made of leather.

“This must be someone else’s order,” she mused, examining the box.

“Open it.”

Zelda rolled her eyes at him with a smile, muttering something about boxes in boxes, and unlatched it.

Inside was a silver necklace with a small, delicate diamond pendant, nestled within the velvet folds of the box. Gently, Zelda lifted it out of the box, hanging it off her fingers so the pendant spun ever so slowly, just enough for her to admire the details.

“I never ordered this,” she said again. “And your father doesn’t make necklaces, so–”

His lips were on hers.

Wait, what?

When did he even approach? He’d been on the other side of the room leaning against a dresser, watching from afar as she opened the leather jewelry box and took out the diamond necklace. He hadn’t moved an inch, and she knew that because she had watched him out of the corner of her eye the whole time. So when did he get here?

It wasn’t like it mattered anyway, she thought, melting into him. He smelled of leather, sweet and earthy, and his textured skin against hers felt right, warm, like everything she had ever dreamed of.

When he pulled away, she found herself moving toward him, lonely at the loss. They gazed at each other for a quiet, soft moment.

“Was that a bad idea?” he asked, all sense of decorum and–thank the Goddesses, Zelda thought–protocol flying out the window.

“No,” she hummed, reaching her hands up into his hair to pull him in for another kiss as his hands, soft as leather, found their home on her silken skin.

#zelinktines2023 #zelinktines #zelink #zelda #link #leather #zelinktines 2023

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kazeofthemagun · 2 years ago

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@relentless-understudy asked the summoner:

😊

A good dream

The wind carried the hot breath of desert air. What little yellowed grass still lingered between rock swayed gently as harsh terrain slowly gave way to a golden savannah, spiraling crags pointing towards the sky like brazen spears. The sun was low on the horizon, descending steadily over the western ridge. Soon, only the twin moons would be left to gaze upon the vast steppes of Windaria.

Lir Hassan stood ever imposing, a fortress city painted in hues of various colors. But, most of all - blue. It was always this shade of blue, this simple design that adorned billowing flags and made up the ekkti that had come to be painted upon his features. Home. Not one of his birth, nor of his lost bloodline, but a home to his heart nonetheless.

The hustle and bustle of the fortress town had resumed, citizens lured back onto narrow streets by evening. Here and there, merchants peddled their wares underneath canopies of patterned fabric, the waning daylight casting a soft red glow through hanging cloth.

"I can pay you an honest three hundred saki, kind Sir, but four hundred you will not squeeze out of me." The soft voice of his small companion had taken on a hint of annoyance, or, perhaps, disappointment. To think some would try to swindle him so..! But, alas, he was no fool and though small of stature he was, his confidence was not and he could barter rather effectively. "It smells like the sea, yes, but even such finds had gone down in value with the recent opening of trade routes. Yes, I do know what I am talking about, thank you very much."

The furry white creature shook his head, the light organ upon his forehead buzzing with an electric yellow glow. Though calm he may appear, a Moogle's emotions were most apparent in their lanterns. "Tis a good quality, but good luck finding buyers with such prices. Hmph." Kupo's blue eyes stared with a certain snarkiness, and he huffed. "Four Winds."

The summoner observed in silence as his partnered Missionary haggled with the third seller in a row. Well, he almost had it, but not quite. Endlessly contesting prices did not exactly serve one well when they still left with nothing by the end of the day.

A soft hmm escaped the Wind Warrior's lips, similar shade of blue gazing down upon his companion with eyebrows riding a tad higher than they tended to rest. "Just buy it already. I will lend you the hundred. You need time to cook it, still."

"She's just going to get mad at us for spending this much on spices, Rorahm." The Moogle complained, crossing little arms beneath his folded wings. "Traditional Malatuurese cuisine is expensive. I wanted it to be a good gift, but Winds! The audacity to still charge that much."

Kupo was funny (adorable) in the rare moments he got angry. It almost prompted a chuckle out of the gunmage, steeled blue gaze softening with a silent laugh in his eyes. His partner knew that look well, and promptly gave a jab to his shin with a wingtalon.

"Ow." Black Wind pretended to be hurt, drawing out the noise in the most sarcastic deadpan he could muster. "It's okay. She will not have your hide. We can afford."

"Really? I mean -"

"Get it."

His companion seemed to finally be won over, accepting the hundred saki from the summoner and paying for the satchel. He gave it one last sniff, just to be sure it was exactly what he needed.

"I think... I think Pelo is going to like it very much." He smiled, holding his purchase close to the chest. "Thank you."

Perhaps the Wind's eyes were not the only thing smiling - nobody could ever tell with the way his cape covered the lower half of his face. It was a look so rare upon his features, brought out by the only two people who could heal his troubled heart. And one of them was right there, in front of him. "You have to pursue that which is close to your heart."

He was so very glad his dear friend had found a love. It was something so very needed in such uncertain times. Who knew when the trade routes would be closed off again, or when their savings would run dry - this opportunity could disappear in the flash of a centipede's jaws in sand.

Feeling guilt over spent money was unavoidable, but hopefully their hides would not be had. Hopefully.

"...Ahh, I am so happy, Rorahm!" There were sparkles in sky blue orbs, and the Moogle's lantern was shining brighter than ever. "I'm going to make this count. It will be so good."

"I bet it will be." The Wind hummed, eyes closing contendedly.

His right hand rested on his companion's head, petting white fur gently.

#You get a dream about the good old days on Windaria and a certain NPC I need to write more cuz I love him #totally not Kaze shedding a tear in his sleep as he relives something mundane and kind instead of violence #[[ask response #relentless-understudy #[[drabble #I realized I never made up a name for Windaria's currency #[[Dear Gunmetal ║ Moogle Kupo

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jenngerbread13 · 1 year ago

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#FFXIVwrite2023 - Prompt #3

Decided to use my adventurer's tarot since it was a 'free day' Decided to start with the past card today, and will write the present and future later. Past - The Ooze (Reverse) - If you are too empathetic and nurturing you will become overwhelmed. Do not shoulder everyone else’s problems. Take care of yourself first.

I’m over this. I’m over this. I’m over this. I’m done. I’m not dealing with it. Absolutely not. First pulled here against My will. Having to absorb light just to save others. It doesn’t make me feel good. No Y’shtola to talk to. Urianger is hiding something again. And all in all of course the fucking Ascians show up. Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck all of this. I just want to go home, ignore the blasted echo and age peacefully until I die. I’m the daughter of merchants. Not some hero. Not a savior. Just me. Just Kerina.

Kerina stomped past the Manager and threw open the door to their suite, swiftly closing and locking the door behind them. Smells assaulted their nostrils and they turned and looked, their table fully stocked with food. Narrowing their eyes, they looked around on the door for any signs of forced entry before they heard a familiar voice speak up from behind them.

“From the Exarch, I think. With that mirror of his, he can watch your every move, you know. He’ll be glad to know you’re at least staying healthy. With me here, he’ll probably think you’re talking to yourself, however,” Ardbert stated, watching Kerina turn around, pointing to a note on the table “Still, he’s keeping you well-fed.”

Oh. Oh hells no. There was no way they were going to let that absolute wannabe hero with no social skills, and a knack for wanting to steal their triumphs & hard work to be seen as a hero themselves watch their every move.

Kerina turned on their heels, fury dripping off them as they made their way back over to the door as Ardbert called out to them “Wait, wait, at least take a rest first, it would be a shame if the food went to waste. I could tell you all about Voeburtite cuisine, if you’d like.”

Stopping in their tracks, their shoulders slumped down, as they physically reminded themselves to unclench their jaw and hands, before facing the table and Ardbert with a look of exhaustion and sighed. “You’re right. I hate it, but you’re right.”

Sitting down and pouring themselves tea, Kerina grabbed what looked like an orange from the basket, beginning to peel it revealed light pink flesh inside. It tasted like an orange but mixed with a grapefruit. Facing him, they sat there eating with a half smile “I’d offer you some but I know it’d be rather useless. I feel like I’m being a bad host.”

“Ah, I know you’d be a good one, after all, you’ve been rather accommodating to me once I figured out there was at least one person on the First that could hear me. Better than that one time we were all invited out to a godsforsaken feast. Sent all over, forced to collect rare ingredients for our own feast. If that sounds ridiculous, it’s because it was.” He said, standing between seats at the table.

Kerina laughed, swallowing the piece of fruit they had in their mouth before pointing the fork at him and nodding, a wide grin on their face “Oh, gods, I’ve done that too. Some banquet of heroes where I had to go fight this giant swamp beast called a Goobbue just to get some moss off its back to bring the seeds to a vintner to make a rare wine. Let me tell you I passed up on that wine at the banquet. I’d rather stick to the meads and ciders. I at least know what that’s made of.”

Ardbert laughed as well “I see we’re not so different after all. What else did you and your friends have to fetch?”

“These Goblins in our world, I suppose the most similar race here would be the Mords? But not quite. They make this super stinky cheese but it’s actually quite delicious when paired with savory things like roasted vegetables or grilled meat. However, they set up camp in the absolute worst place and their production of cheese and other goods just had them beset by all sorts of animals, including dragons. So as you’d imagine I had to clear out their camp and protect them from the threats before we could even get the cheese.” Kerina smiled, picking at the fruit, ignoring the sandwiches. They figured the fruit to be safe but after the bloody banquet, they would not be touching any food offered to them that they didn’t see prepared themselves.

“Really? All that for cheese. I remember having to deal with the Pixies for what felt like hours trying to solve a riddles when Nyelbert just rolls up, answers five of them like it’s not anything but a mere child’s game and wanders off with the gin bottles I was tasked with collecting. Had I been tasked with helping Branden lug the kegs from Wright, it would have gone easier.” His face a melancholy mix as he laughed, clearly remembering the good times before.

They talked until Kerina could hold their eyes open no longer and before Ardbert left, they leveled with him “Listen, I enjoy our talks, but can we make it a thing where instead of me wondering if you’re looking in on me, like I know there’s no ‘night time’ here per say, but between 10 bells in the evening and 6 bells in the morning, just give me privacy, unless otherwise asked?”

“I’d see no problem with that. I’d talk with the exarch however, I mean judging by his people’s faith in him he seems to be a decent sort, the mirror-watching not withstanding.” Ardbert offered.

“Oh trust me, I will be marching down to his little room first thing in the morning to give him a piece of my mind about that,” Kerina shuddered “Boy needs to learn his boundaries before I smack the hair off his ears.”

“It’s Emet-Selch we should be concerned about, though. Him and the Ascian in white have both come to our world now to talk to us. The one in white told us the only way to save our world was to bring about the rejoining. Desperate, we heeded their words, not knowing the flood was of their own making. They cannot be trusted. None of them. But he did have one thing right: one should not fight blindly.” Lamenting, he noticed Kerina’s eyes go wide.

“Ah, so you’ve met Elidibus as well. The one robed in white. Odd duck that one. Can’t decide if he just wants to fight me or kill me. Never met Emet-Selch before, though. Just be glad you didn’t have to deal with the crazy one.” Kerina replied, looking around the room for a bin to put the peels in of the fruit. “Lahabrea was a piece of work, let me tell you. Absolutely unhinged. Didn’t seem to care he was destroying his own plans just so he could set off something he called the Ultima weapon. Nearly succeeded in destroying me. Was left with a nasty ringing in my ears afterwards.”

“Sorry to hear that, I know how injuries that never truly heal can feel. We’ll speak on the morrow, yeah? I’ll keep to those rules as long as I can feel like I’m not alone anymore.” Looking hopeful, Ardbert smiled at Kerina as they nodded before disappearing.

About to shrug off their clothes and sleep, thinking back to his statement about the Exarch, Kerina sighed and only took off that which would make sleeping uncomfortable, like the belts and jewelry, deciding to sleep fully clothed that ‘night’ after they closed the thick curtains which blocked out most of the ever-cursed light.

#ffxivwrite #ffxiv writers #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv writing challenge

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colemonroe · 1 year ago

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Grinning wide as he felt just that sense of peace settle over him the moment he saw Taliah snuggled up in his bed, Cole couldn’t help but feel comforted by it, just like he couldn’t help the way he just leaned into that feeling like it was a lifeline– maybe it was. “Y’know I love it when ya call me that, right?” He murmured, his grin only growing as blue eyes traced over her features, drinking her in, “Been doin’ it for years, I know, but…just hits different now.” Everything about them tended to hit different now, and he didn’t pretend not to know why. He loved her. He felt safe with her, and he’d never felt that way with a woman before. This was something wholly new, something uncharted for him, and it was everything.

Seated on the side of the bed, her pressing her lips against his palm, Cole shook his head, “Yeah, I do.” Of course, he needed to thank her. Yes, she’d stepped into her role so seamlessly, but that didn’t mean he should let her efforts go unnoticed. He knew even without it being said that being his old lady wasn’t an easy ride– at all. On the surface, it could’ve easily appeared to be that way, but being the President’s old lady was damn near the hardest, yet most revered station in the clubhouse– it wasn’t just some title, some flippant status to entertain on a rainy day…it was something real, and there was a part of him that felt guilty for subjecting her to that, but there was also the more rational side of his brain that reminded him that there was no one more deserving of it, or more capable of it, than Taliah Tezel. She was up for the task– he’d known that even before he’d fallen for her, but it was even more apparent to him now.

Chuckling softly at the mention of Kip, he nodded, “Of course it is– only question is, are we gonna cook him southern cuisine, or Turkish?” Not that Cole cared either way, he was more so just pushing for a laugh and a reaction that didn’t feel so serious in a time when he felt so forced to be this stoic figure he never wanted to be in front of Taliah. Nodding as she spoke, he knew she was right– this was inevitable, and whoever was behind it just needed a point to push off from. “I know you’re right,” he murmured, lacing his fingers with hers while the other hand stayed steadily pressed against her cheek. “It’s just…knowin’ they’re gonna come for people and it can’t be stopped ‘cause of somethin’ I was a part of?” Shaking his head, he breathed out a long sigh, “Just don’t settle right, is all.” But…Taliah had this way of talking him down, of settling him when nothing else could– he’d known that for years now, but it was just that much more profound recently. She could get him to see an alternative, other than strictly blaming himself just because it was easy for him to do that. “They saw their openin’ and took it, whoever they are,” he muttered, not even really blaming them for it because as a fighter himself, looking for an opening and learning how to exploit it was the difference between a knockout punch and falling flat on your ass. “We just gotta be ready to swing back.” And they would be, he’d make sure of it. Switching gears somewhat, he found that his smile easily mirrored hers and he nodded, “Me too. Just hate it ruined our first date, y’know?” So naturally, he’d need to make up for that, “Means we need a do-over.” Following her lead and selfishly wanting her to take care of him even though she didn’t have to, he paused, taking a moment to haul his wifebeater over his head and sling it onto the floor, Cole climbed into bed, effortlessly sidling up behind her and hugging his arms around her. It felt like coming home, but then again, something about holding Taliah always had. “Got a couple things in mind,” he prompted, pressing a kiss to her cheek as one of his hands found her own, lacing their fingers together, “If you’re interested.”

Unfortunately, she couldn't say she'd been shocked when yet another town gathering fell to shit. The only positive was that nobody had been killed, but personally speaking, the demands the anonymous person wanted were what concerned her. Dante. Now, considering he was dead, she worried about what that meant for the club, for the town as a whole. Still, there wasn't much time to dwell on those thoughts, not when she had other things to do. Nobody needed to tell her that being Cole's girl now changed things, she already knew it did and so, she simply adapted to her new role within the club and led the charge. Every member was accounted for, every partner, friend, and family member was contacted, everyone was safe. It was only a matter of making sure people were fed and comfortable, normal things she'd done for years, only now, it was her voice they looked to whilst Cole was busy in the meeting room. It was strange that it didn't feel strange to her, and having a private word with Rowan really helped assure her she was doing what she needed to be.

It was hours before everyone had begun to settle, she made sure to do one last sweep around everyone, Kip especially, he was the youngest and newest, Taliah just wanted to be sure he was taking it all in his stride. Finally excusing herself into Cole's room, she was relieved to get out of her heels and dress, a quick shower and straight into bed pj's and bed. Sleep would of course elude her, there's no way she could settle until Cole came in, so when he finally did, a warm smile and sigh of relief washed over her features. "Hey, angel." Soft, tired eyes follow him around the room, waiting patiently for him to finally make his way into her space. It had only been a few hours, but not only had she missed him, she'd been anxiously waiting to check in and make sure he was okay.

Turning her cheek into his touch, she brings her hand up over his and presses a kiss to his palm. "You don't need to thank me." Taliah shrugged. "Everyone's safe, that's what matters. Kip is handling it well, too. He's adorable, I felt compelled to invite him for dinner at the end of the week, so I did... Hope that's okay." Chuckling softly, she takes his other hand and squeezes. "Hey, no... None of that. It's done now, can't change it, just have to get ready for whatever that means, yeah?" Sighing quietly, she shakes her head. "I think this would have happened at some point regardless, you know? Using Dante is just an excuse for whoever it is to start swinging. Even if they did get him back," which was obviously something she knew was impossible, "do you really think that someone who actually has secrets that could ruin people is just going to forget about it? No, they'd expose them anyway so... At least this way they don't win twice, I guess." Frowning slightly, she wasn't sure that came out entirely how she wanted it to, but she was just saying what she felt was true. "Besides, it was only the ending of the night that was bad, I enjoyed the rest." Flashing him a dimpled smile, she leans her head close to his and steals a soft kiss. "I've been taking care of everyone but you for hours now, so come on, your turn," smiling, she shuffles back in the bed and holds her arms up, prompting him to climb in and let her wrap her arms around him.

#( ft; taliah tezel. )#( taliah 010. )

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tennessoui · 2 years ago

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“Alright, I love you.”

ah bless!!! ok this is from the same universe as "when all we have are shadows" (aka the bartender au on tumblr)! this takes place probably about 2 months after they really truly get together at the end of the fic.

(from this list of prompts)

(1.4k)

Obi-Wan has absolutely no idea how he’s ended up here, making a college student poached eggs at seven in the morning because the boy had admitted to never having them before in his life.

That’s where Obi-Wan is. He’s dating a boy who thought poached eggs were fancy cuisine until five hours ago when he’d mentioned it offhandedly while curled up on his chest, pressing messy, lazy kisses to his skin between pointed words about how it would be amazing if they went on a vacation together after Anakin finished this year of school.

Not even his last fucking year of school, mind you.

He’d said something like how nice it would be to go to some romantic city and fuck on the balcony of a hotel room, taking breaks only to eat fancy foods, like dark chocolate and poached eggs—

He’d been playing rather obviously with the skin around Obi-Wan’s ring finger, below his knuckle. Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to handle that, so he’d asked about the egg thing instead of asking him why he suddenly seemed so completely set on making Obi-Wan have to ask him if he’s really, seriously trying to get Obi-Wan to propose to him.

Now it’s seven in the morning, and Anakin is sitting up on Obi-Wan’s counter top, shirtless and in sweatpants that are definitely not his. His hair’s being pushed back from his forehead by a bandana, which makes the little pieces stick out everywhere. He looks devastatingly adorable.

There’s no way in hell that he actually, really, wants Obi-Wan to marry him.

“You love me,” he declares, apropos of nothing. Obi-Wan cracks an egg against the countertop so hard it splatters everywhere.

“What?”

“You said so,” Anakin swings his legs out slightly, brushing his foot against his thigh insistently until he turns around to look at him. Anakin offers him a grin. “A week ago. We were on the phone, and I said I had to go because I was about to take an exam, and you said, ‘Alright, I love you,’ and then you hung up.” He scowls at him, crossing his arms over his chest. Obi-Wan is pretty sure he has egg yolk dripping from his fingers, but he sort of wants to reach out and wipe that frown off of his boy’s face. “I failed the exam. I couldn’t concentrate.”

Obi-Wan blinks and turns around to wipe his hands on a kitchen towel. “I didn’t notice,” he tells him, looking back for a second before focusing on the eggs. “I apologize if the words made you…uncomfortable.”

“I thought you meant them,” Anakin says. “But then you haven’t said it again, even though I’ve been very loveable since then just in case.”

Anakin has been an unmitigated brat, and they’ve fucked at least three times in the bar this week alone. Loveable. For fuck’s sake.

“Do you want me to love you?” Obi-Wan asks, carefully cracking another egg.

“I want you to marry me,” says Anakin, and the egg goes over the stove in a spray of yellow and clear fluid. “I think those are supposed to go into the pot,” Anakin points out.

“I think I need you to stop talking,” says Obi-Wan, staring into the rolling water. “Maybe go to your room.”

“You can’t send me to my room, Obi-Wan, I’m twenty years old.”

God, he can’t just say that. Obi-Wan is going to have heart palpitations if he keeps just saying stuff like that. “Anakin,” he says, quite calmly, “why don’t you sit down at the table? This isn’t a conversation we should have like this.”

And put a shirt on, he wants to say. Maybe a bag over your face. You’re too distracting.

As Anakin gets situated, Obi-Wan washes his hands and turns off the flames on the stove. Just once, he’d like time with Anakin to go how he expects it.

“Alright,” he says, sitting down across from Anakin. The boy looks nervous now, sort of moody, like he’s deciding whether or not he’s going to throw a fit and the next five minutes will determine it for him. “Anakin, you are twenty years old.”

“Almost twenty-one,” his boy points out mulishly. Oh god, he’s already getting petulant.

Obi-Wan switches tactics. “Anakin, you’re right,” he says, even though the words hurt coming out of his throat. “I do love you.”

The admission makes Anakin light up like he’s just swallowed the sun or something.

“You’re wonderful, Anakin. Lovely and gorgeous and clever and kind. A lot of people are going to fall in love with you in your life. I promise, it won’t take much,” he smirks slightly, but Anakin just blinks at him, confused. “You can’t—there are things—marriage is something—you can do it more than once, obviously, but it’s serious. It’s not enough that someone loves you, alright? Plenty of people are going to love you. You have to love them as well.”

“But I do love you,” Anakin says.

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Obi-Wan lies, because it’s nice to hear as much as it hurts to hear. “But—”

“No, it’s true. I’m in love with you,” the boy interrupts, standing and rounding the table. “I’ve been in love with you since before we started actually dating. I’ve been in love with you for months, even when I was still sleeping with other people. I loved you more every time, wanted you, not them. And it got worse after we got together, because now I see you all the time and it makes me never want to stop seeing you. I hate going back to my place. I hate leaving you. My lease is up in a month, so I thought, I want to move in with you. But that doesn’t feel like enough. I want more. I want everything, I want to be your husband too. Don’t you want me to wear your ring?”

“Sweetheart,” Obi-Wan hopes he sounds as pained as he feels, even as he lets Anakin push him back from the table and climb into his lap. “That’s not how relationships work.”

“Why not?” Anakin asks, sounding curious. “If the two people in the relationship want it, then why can’t they work like that? Unless—do you not want to marry me?”

“I—fuck,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, wordless. Ten minutes ago he’d been making poached eggs. Now Anakin is looking at him like he’s trying to break his heart open. “I mean, I—I would, darling. But marriages—they’re…permanent.”

How can he say that he’d love to marry Anakin? That his fear is being divorced by Anakin? Where are the words to tell his boy that?

He can’t find them.

“Yes,” Anakin agrees, like he thinks Obi-Wan is being stupid on purpose. “Sorta like my love. For you. Permanent.”

Obi-Wan leans back to look him fully in the face, darting his eyes between both of Anakin’s. What if he says no and Anakin thinks that means he doesn’t love him? What if Anakin breaks up with him? What if Anakin decides he needs to be in a relationship with someone who thinks a little less loudly and constantly, touches him more eagerly, someone younger and prettier and just as insane as Anakin is? Fuck, if he lets him go, Anakin could be married before the end of the year.

But if Obi-Wan marries him, then he’ll at least know who’s going to meet Anakin at the end of the aisle. He’s going to know that the person Anakin marries will do their best to treat him how he deserves, because it’d be him. It would be him Anakin curls up next to and falls asleep with every night. It would be him that Anakin gives all of his gross morning kisses to, as well as his post-teeth brushing morning kisses. It would be him Anakin comes home to, him Anakin leaves with.

Ah, fuck it.

So Obi-Wan is engaged now.

“Anakin Skywalker,” Obi-Wan says. He should have a ring. He should be on one knee. He should probably not be doing this at all, but Anakin doesn’t seem to care about shoulds. “Will you marry me?”

Perhaps he can at least convince Anakin into having a long engagement. Yes. He can be firm on this. After Anakin has graduated university.

But when Anakin shrieks and laughs and leans forward to kiss him joyfully, crying yes into his mouth, Obi-Wan feels even that resolve begin to falter.

#asks #any obi-wan can negotiate anything he wants #except a relationship with anakin #especially this obi-wan and this anakin #prompt fill #obikin #bartender au

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versadies · 3 years ago

Note

hello! congrats on 1k, i saw that you opened an event so i would like to try and join in!

Capricorn + Jean and Beidou + any hcs! + either fluff or angst (you can decide whichever <3)

unexpected (hc scenario, mermaid au and royal au)

penpal: ty for requesting !! hope you don't mind me making this request into an au hc <3

prompt: capricorn the sea-goat, first word soulmate au

pairing/s: jean x gn!reader, beidou x gn!merman/mermaid!reader

sypnosis: hc on how you unexpectedly meet your soulmate.

includes: mermaid!au in beidou's part, royal!au in jean's part, no angst just fluff, grammar error

while the soulmate system exists in teyvat, so do merfolks.

merfolks have been known as a myth among the nations, with no signs of their existence that's known to humans.

however, it's the complete opposite in the sea.

as a merfolk, you've heard numerous tales of those who are above the ocean.

whether it'd be haunting myths, stories of merfolk meeting man, and so on– you grew up to despise them, always hearing the same thing in all the tales everyone had spilled on you: when a human meets a merfolk, unfortune will arrive upon the merfolk.

so when your peers started gushing and dreamily talk about encountering a human after a romance tale between a mermaid and a human arises around the seas, you were astounded. how come people change their minds so quickly after reading some fantasy?

being destined with a human is a terrifying thought for you.

the elders would reassure you that such possibility is rare for everyone in the sea, telling you that the infamous tale is nothing but just fiction.

that eased your mind a bit,

until you came across to her.

while hanging out with your friends, one of them dared to swim towards the nearest land with everyone following much to your dismay. of course, being worried of the consequences they'll face, you decided to follow as well to keep an eye on them minutes after they left you alone.

due to losing sight of them, you had no idea where they went and continue to swim straight ahead, hoping that they're not far ahead.

which led you to where you are now, hiding behind the stones and take a peek of the shore, trying to spot your merfriends by the area.

unnoticed by you, a person is slowly sneaking behind you.

"well isn't this interesting," your eyes widens from the sudden voice of the stranger, causing you to turn around and see a human.

without hesitation, you immediately turn away from the human's eyes and swam back to the ocean, ignoring the calls of the brown-haired woman who was trying to get you to come back to the shore.

as soon as you finally see the familiar silhouette of the city, you slow yourself down and try to calm yourself, your heart pacing faster than the fastest merfolk in the ocean.

not long after, you heard the familiar sounds of your friends' fins and saw them heading towards you with excited looks on their faces.

"you should've went with us, y/n. it was a blast!" one of them exclaims.

"we literally saw a human, a literal human by the shores. they looked more different than how the elders described!"

you couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief. at least they didn't know what you did.

however, your relief was short-lived when one of your friends pointed out something.

"...wait, you've met your soulmate already?"

your breath hitched from your friend's statement, looking down at your wrist with disbelief. you felt your heart sank at the words imprinted on your skin that is now glowing before your own eyes.

"oh dear." you mumbled to yourself.

your deepest fear came true.

among the seven kingdoms, your favorite is mondstadt.

the kingdom of freedom is truly worthy of its name, with their people being welcoming and their palace being welcomed by all, it was something that makes them different from the rest.

not only that, the kingdom has also worship a god whose name is imprinted on your wrist.

the moment you found out about the fact that barbatos is actually a god that mondstadt worships for, you didn’t hesitate to stay in the kingdom longer than you usually do in other nations, hoping to encounter a person in the town who will say the exact words that’s imprinted on your wrist.

although you love to stay in the kingdom of freedom, you still travel from place to place, wanting to continue on your passion while waiting for your soulmate to meet you.

of course, whenever you’re finished in traveling to a few nations, you always find yourself going back to mondstadt with the feeling of a welcoming home.

during your recent visit to the kingdom, mondstadt is currently celebrating the windblume festival.

you aren't exactly unfamiliar with the celebration, especially with how the townsfolk you've encountered have always mentioned the festival with gleam and excitement.

unfortunately for you, you were a bit late to experience the games that were being held around the land but everyone reassured you that you're luckily enough to be just in time for the grand ball.

from what you've heard, the grand ball is the closing ceremony of the festival, whereas the ruler of the kingdom chooses a lucky mondstadtian as the windblume star and formally offer a flower from the nation to barbatos. once the star has offered a flower to barbatos, everyone around the ballroom can give their chosen person a flower that they see fit as a windblume.

so you thought to yourself: why not try out the grand ball?

you’re honestly glad that you’ve decided to come to the celebration.

the ballroom was just as enchanting as what everyone described it to be, with different kinds of flowers being plastered all around the room, the delicious mondstadt cuisines that are displayed by the tables, the exciting music playing in the background– you wanted to applaud mondstadt for such an amazing work.

being a traveler who isn't exactly a mondstadtian, you would be lying if you said you don't feel out of place in the room. although everyone is nice to you and the party is as fun as you imagine it would be, you still feel like you don't belong, the awkwardness seeping through your body as you watch everyone having fun in the ball.

it didn't help that one of the servers accidentally spilled dandelion wine on your outfit, causing you to feel embarrassed around your peers.

as a getaway, you excused yourself and ran outside from the ballroom, your cheeks starting to warm from the embarrassing experience.

to cool yourself down and get some fresh air, you decided to try and find your way to the entrance of the palace, wanting to get outside as soon as possible and get back to the party at ease.

however, as soon as you went out, you realized you weren't by the entrance of the palace at all. instead you're in a garden with a person standing nearby, who's rather busy practicing sword fighting–

while wearing a huge gown?!

before you could watch her in awe, the woman stopped when she notices your presence, eyes widening in surprise from the sudden intrusion.

"o-oh uhm," you immediately look away from the woman's gaze, glancing in other directions in fear of encountering yet another embarrassing moment. "sorry about that. i was supposed to go back to the entrance but i think i got lost so uh..."

as you try to give the lady an excuse, you didn't notice how her eyes widens slowly from your words, looking down at her wrist to see the words imprinted on her skin glowing back at her.

"dear barbatos." she spoke up, looking back at you in disbelief.

you were suddenly taken back by surprise, looking back at the woman. "..wait i'm sorry, what did you say?"

the blonde haired woman’s hand slowly covers her own mouth, hesitantly walk towards you with a relieved look on her face. "it's you.. you're.. you're my soulmate."

from her words alone, you immediately look at your wrist, your heart paced faster when you noticed the glowing words in your skin as well.

"i uh," you let out a light laugh, stumbling a bit from the shocking discovery. "i didn't expect this."

the woman laughs as well. "i have to say the same as well,"

you watched as she kneels slightly in courtesy, her blue gown slowly dropping down to the cold hard ground.

"my name is jean gunnhildr, the acting ruler of the kingdom of freedom. and you are?"

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ultralovedeluxe · 4 years ago

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Hey I love your work! Would you mind doing Rohan with prompts 41 and 43 whenever you can? And maybe nsfw if your comfortable? 👉🏼👈🏼

Have a good day/evening!

Oml I love YOU so much! I'm a big fan of your work so I was nervous when writing this (it's very rushed oml), I hope you enjoy though!

Yandere! Rohan Kishibe with prompts #41 and #43

'I'm all you have left now'

'They didn't know you belonged to me so I had to get rid of them!'

Warnings: yandere behaviors, cheating accusations, manipulation, slut-shaming, inappropriate use of stands, non/dub con, blow-jobs, nsfw

Dating the famous mangaka Kishibe Rohan would be an honor to most people. He's a man of power and fame, who wouldn't want to be with him? The moms who hang out at the park always tell you that you should feel like the luckiest person in the world. They'd tell you that a million girls would kill to be in your shoes.

Although you love Rohan with all your heart (and you should feel deserving of his love), you sometimes start to wonder if dating the great Kishibe Rohan is worth it.

You met Rohan at an art exhibit in France. You had been a model for several pieces in that said exhibit, so obviously you had to come along for the event. Meeting Rohan was a love at first sight. He had asked if you would want to model for him sometime, and you had agreed. Soon after one visit and project, came after another, and then another, until you were working mainly with the mangaka. You can't say you didn't like it though, you enjoyed being in Rohan's presence. He was chivalrous when he wanted to be, and you found his sarcastic nature be quite humorous in fact. You spent so much time with Rohan in fact, you would have considered him a friend. Your relationship with the mangaka was no longer just work related, the both of you had become good friends.

However, the real problem in your friendship with Rohan began to show when your parents were involved. Your parents tolerated Rohan (or at least you thought they did), but they were getting annoyed with the fact the mangaka kept hogging your time. You should be modeling with professional photographers, or modeling for famous designers. But instead you're being used as reference from some manga artist in Japan.

You understood your parent's point of view in the subject, but you enjoyed working with Rohan more than you did any other project you had worked on. You continued to visit Rohan, despite your parent's protests (and Rohan couldn't have been happier).

The more visits that happened, the closer you got to the mangaka. It wasn't long before Rohan had asked you on a date. Eventually multiple dates leaded to the both of you starting a relationship. You knew your parents would hate Rohan even more now, but he didn't seem to mind. He'd always tell you that he didn't care what your parents thought about him, he was content with having you as a partner. Even if your parents did find out about your secret relationship, you highly doubt they would react dramatically. Sure, they'd really, really dislike it, but they wouldn't disown you for it. After all you were a grown adult, you should be able to make your own decisions right?

At least that's what you thought. One day, Rohan made an unexpected visit on your front door step. You didn't expect for him to be there, nor did you know how he got your address (considering the fact you lived in a completely different continent), but you didn't think much of it since you thought this could be your chance to properly introduce Rohan to your parents.

The introduction went by smoothly, Rohan was getting along with your parents, and your parents seemed to accept that Rohan was your partner. However, it did seem a bit suspicious that your parent's dislike of Rohan turned into an approval almost in a span of a few minutes. They had even agreed to let you move out with Rohan. While you could admit that you and Rohan had been planning to live in Morioh-Cho together, you didn't think it'd happen instantly. And that your parents would agree nonetheless. Regardless, you and Rohan accepted your parent's blessing's and left France.

You vividly remembered on your plane flight to Morioh-Cho, Rohan had whispered in your ear while stroking your hair softly, "You must be lucky to have me right [first]? I'm all you have left now.."

Life in Morioh-Cho was sweet to say the least. It was a drastic change from living in a fashion capital of the world, to a small quiet place where there was much to do. Nevertheless, you truly enjoyed your new life, it was better than going to photoshoots every week. Speaking of which, you never do photoshoots anymore. Rohan convinced you to quit your job as a model (since he is wealthy enough to provide for the both of you anyway), and you had agreed. Though, every time you mentioned getting a job to Rohan, he'd simply call you an idiot for wanting to work. He'd ask you if he needed step up his game for you, and you'd only close your mouth in the conversation.

Your relationship with Rohan was a drastic change too. From what was sweet, humble dates every weekend, went to being locked in a home for what was everyday. Rohan would spend hours in his art studio, drawing multiple pages for his manga. He'd tell you to not go out while he was working. But even then, that's most of the time.

You'd be lying if you didn't find this type of behavior weird.

"I'm leaving to go visit Italy for a couple of days [first]. Do you remember the rules?"

You nodded and kissed Rohan's cheek before handing him his suitcase. "Don't go outside unless we run out of groceries, don't let people inside-" Rohan cut you off "Especially those idiots Josuke and Okuyasu" he said scoffing at his distaste for the boys. You only sighed in response, "Especially Josuke and Okuyasu. Hope you have a good trip love" you smiled holding his hands close to your chest. Rohan kissed your lips softly and mumbled a quick 'goodbye' before leaving your shared home. You sighed and walked into the kitchen, before sitting down on a chair. You respected his rules, and you didn't want to lie to him, but you were bored out of your mind. You wanted to go out and have fun. Not to mention, although you know that Rohan could buy you whatever you wanted; but you wanted to have some money of your own. You can't rely on Rohan forever. You had decided that tomorrow you'd start looking for a job (any job, part-time even, you just wanted some type of job to keep you entertained for a while). Rohan would get mad sure, but you promised you'd discuss when he'd come back. You were sure he'd support you

You were sure of it.

Looking for a job was harder than you thought. It seemed that nobody wanted to hire somebody who only had 'model' on their resume. Sometimes you'd wish you had taken on other jobs other than modeling, maybe then people would hire you. Regardless, you kept looking, desperate to find a job somewhere.

In the end, you ended up finding an Italian restaurant after hours of searching. You stepped in and was greeted a tall, blonde Italian man. "Hello good afternoon my name is Tonio, welcome to my restuarant" he greeted you while smiling at you sweetly. You smiled awkwardly and muttered a quick 'thank you', "Um Tonio san, I'm not here to eat..but I'd like to ask you if you are hiring. I can't cook, but I can be a waitress!-" you exclaimed, leaving Tonio in a small shock. He looked at you up and down before smiling at you once again, "Well I don't usually hire people since I'm doing good on my own, but I guess a little help wouldn't hurt.." he told you. You smiled back and hugged him, "Oh thank you so much! You don't know how much I struggled finding a job today-" you let him go, "Uhm, sorry.." you mumbled. He chuckled and led you to a table.

The two of you talked a bit for a while, you told hima bout your modeling career and your relationships, while he told you about his journey to Japan and Italian cuisine. You both shared laughs and stories together, you had a good time. Your time with Tonio became even better when he officially had hired you as a waitress! You were happy, and you couldn't wait to tell Rohan when he got home!

"Well I'll see you next week Tonio!" you shouted as you left the door, carrying the bouquet of daisies Tonio had gifted you. Tonio smiled, "I'll see you then bambina!".

You arrive a little later than planned (guess you spent too much time talking to Tonio), but you finally made it home safe and sound. You might as well start cleaning, since you weren't going to sleep any time soon. As you opened the door, you were met face to face with Rohan. You dropped your daises on the floor, and began to think of all the apologies and excuses you could think of. But it was no use, excuses would only make Rohan's anger boil even more.

Why was he even here in the first place? Wasn't he supposed to be in Italy by now?!

"Rohan I-"

"Save it, I don't want to hear a word from you" Rohan growled angrily before walking towards you. He had pulled out a pen and you felt as if you passed out.

Rohan had used Heaven's Door to read the pages of your life. He looked for the information of today, and when he did, he was fuming. He read his newly learned information out loud, gripping onto your hair in the process, "This man named Tonio is so handsome, and he cooks too.. I feel like this skirt is a bit risqué, but oh well.." with that last sentence Rohan had the last straw. He removed his stand's effect on you, but not before writing a few things.

Once the effects of Heaven's Door were gone, you began to feel a heat between your legs. Noticing you were on your knees, you crawled your way to Rohan, "Rohann, feel so hot need you.." you mewled out. Rohan was furious with your previous behavior, but maybe this would help you learn a few things. "So you were tempted to cheat on me right? I bet you would’ve enjoyed if that Tonio flipped your skirt right?" he said slapping your face in the process. You whimpered, "No no no no, that's not true..please need you. Need you so bad" you were starting to tear up just by him insinuating you were going to cheat on him. Rohan looked down at you, gods you looked so pathetic, just like he wanted you to look like.

"Such a fucking slut" he said unbuckling his pants, eager to have your warm and needy mouth all around his cock. Once he finished doing that he looked at you dead in the eye, "Suck. Suck like the whore you are. Aren't you ashamed [first]? I bet you also sucked Tonio’s cock in that job interview right?” He said watching you as you sloppily sucked his cock. You probably aren’t even thinking right now, your just hungry for his cock right? Such a little slut. “And to think your parents didn’t like me. They just didn’t know you belonged to me. But that’s fine I had to get rid of them regardless..” he chuckled before he bucked his hips into your mouth repeatedly.

Rohan grabs you by the hair and begins to push your head down his member, sinking your mouth down to his pubes; much to your displeasure. At the moment however he didn’t care what you felt, sluts like you don’t mind right? He continued to do so for a few more seconds before he came in your mouth, groaning loudly. He came inside your mouth, and there was so much of it you couldn’t help but to cough some out.

You laid your head on his lap and breathed out softly, before Rohan lifted your chin up and grinned,

“Who said we were done?”

Dating the great Kishibe Rohan would be an honor to most people. Who wouldn’t want to be by his side. Unfortunately for you, dating Kishibe Rohan was not a glitter and sparkles.

Being Kishibe Rohan’s personal cum dump isn’t much better either.

#yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere rohan kishibe #yandere rohan x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba imagines #rohan kishibe #jojo no kimym na bmken #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #yandere rohan

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sunlight-moonrise · 5 years ago

Text

The Five Dates (Reid Request)

Summary: Reader decides that she wants to help Spencer experience the things he missed out on when he was a teenager.

A/N: I had a couple of people ask for a part 2 to The Five Times so here it is. Originally was gonna leave that fic as a standalone but writer’s block on my other WIPs led to this sequel. I strongly recommend reading the first part before reading this one so that the story-line makes more sense. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and @wishingwellwriting for being fantastic betas. They have amazing fics, so if you need another Spencer Reid fix, they can most definitely deliver. Enjoy!

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

The first date I had with my neighbor, I don’t think it really counted as a date.

Spencer and I were eating dinner at my apartment after he told me the man who tried to attack me was in custody. We were sitting on the couch with the TV on but I didn’t know what was playing since we were talking the whole time.

He told me that he does magic tricks, enjoys ghost stories, and loves to learn. In return, I told him my favorite hobbies, some habits that I can’t get out of, and food that I enjoy cooking. He listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word I said. It was amazing being able to spend time with someone like this. It felt like I’ve known him for years rather than a few months.

“…and that’s probably my worst experience from school,” I finished, recounting the tales of my teenage years. “What about you? Anything you wish you can take back from the early days?”

Spencer suddenly turned away from me and became silent. I looked at him in confusion. Was it something I said? Did I offend him?

“Oh, I—I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out as a whisper because of how low I spoke.

He quickly shook his head, as if driving away some bad thoughts that plagued his mind. “It’s not you. It’s just that I was a 12-year-old prodigy at a public high school in Vegas. I didn’t have a lot of fun experiences.”

I could hear the sorrow in his words when he told me this. I know how cruel kids could be, especially to someone they considered an outcast. My heart ached for the little boy who went through so much misery at such an early age.

There were a few more seconds of silence before I had a lightbulb moment. “Well, maybe we can change that,” I suggested. “We can do some things that typical teenagers do.” A million ideas immediately came to mind. We can go bowling or ice skating or bike riding.

“I don’t know. I kind of got over that point of my life.”

“Oh.” There was no hiding the sadness in my voice, which made me feel worse. There’s no reason for me to feel dejected over his statement. I shouldn’t be so selfish.

Spencer must have sensed that something was off with me because he quickly tried to correct himself. “It’s not that I don’t want to have these experiences. I just find it embarrassing that I haven’t had them yet, even now.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Spencer. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed with me,” I assured him. I moved my hand towards his as an offer to hold, which he surprisingly took. His hand completely enveloped mine. “Tell me some things that you’ve always wanted to do when you were younger but never got the chance.”

He took a moment to think while I anxiously waited for his response. “I never had the chance to have a sleepover. I had too many responsibilities at the time. I always wanted to go to a festival or a carnival. I also—” he suddenly stopped talking. I noticed his face turning slightly red as he bit his lower lip, his other hand patting against his leg.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“I-uh always wanted to wine and dine a girl, maybe take her to see a play or movie. I wanted to take an evening stroll and just stargaze for a while.” His voice became smaller the more he talked. I hated that he started to feel self-conscious around me but knew that it couldn’t be helped. I was going to change that. I was going to make sure that Spencer Reid experienced teenage fun.

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” he said, removing his hand from mine. “I have to go in tomorrow and I am sure you have an early day as well.”

“Let me put these dishes away and I’ll walk you to the door.” I grabbed our plates and walked to the kitchen, placing them in the sink. My mind was racing with thoughts on what to do for Spencer. When I returned to the living room, he was already by the hallway, grabbing his belongings.

I slowly opened the door for him, watching as he stepped out of the apartment. Before he made it too far, I grabbed the sleeve of his arm, prompting him to turn around. Here goes nothing.

“Spencer Reid, would you like to go on a date with me?” I asked, the pitch of my voice a lot higher than normal. Despite feeling nervous, I made sure to look him in the eye and maintain contact. He stared back at me, mouth agape while his face was turning pink.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, looking down at his feet. Mental note: build up Dr. Reid’s confidence, at least around me.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” I answered honestly. I smiled at him when I noticed his lips tugging upwards.

“Yes. I would like to go on a date with you, (Y/N).” The smile on his face was adorable and I was happy to be the cause of it. “Uh m-maybe I could get your number, so that we can talk,” he added.

“Sure.” I took my phone from my pocket before giving it to him. He put in his number, a bit slowly but I wasn’t complaining. I saw it as more time I got to spend with him. Once he handed my phone back, we just stood in front of each other for a while.

Before I lost my resolve, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his cheek. Before either of us could do anything, I muttered a quick “Goodnight Dr. Reid,” and closed the door. My heart thumped erratically as I slid down the door.

“Goodnight (Y/N)” I heard through the block keeping us apart. His footsteps got quieter and quieter until he eventually opened and closed his own door.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely infatuated with Spencer Reid.

●●●

The second date I had with Dr. Reid, I was a nervous wreck.

Spencer and I have been texting back and forth these last few days. Luckily, we were both free this weekend, so we planned on going out. I haven’t told him yet where we’re going, much to his dismay. The only hint I gave him was to dress casually.

I’ve done some research and found that there was a food festival happening Saturday afternoon. A lot of local restaurants will have stands and distant establishments will be sending food trucks. Their theme is “Around the World” so we’ll get to explore various cultures. I’m hoping we can learn some new things from the different cuisines that would be showcased.

Saturday came around and I made sure I had everything ready. I wanted our date to go off without a hitch. I wanted this to be one of Spencer’s best experiences.

I heard a knock on my door, causing my heart to pick up a bit. I don’t know why I started to sweat. Sure, I’m going on a date with a good looking and successful man but there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? Right.

I heard another knock, more hesitant this time. I quickly made my way towards my door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Thank the angels I took in that breath because I immediately lost it again at the sight of him.

Spencer was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Lavender roses and red carnations were a few that I could identify. I think the purple flower might be an orchid.

He lifted them towards me, a slight tremor in his hands. “These are for you.”

“They’re lovely Spencer, thank you.” I grabbed the flowers from him, taking in the smell of the blossoms. “I’m going to put these in a vase. I’ll be right back.”

I made my way to the living room to do just that. I grabbed my bag and a jacket before checking myself in the mirror one last time. Happy with my appearance, I returned back to Spencer. I shut the door behind us as we walked towards the elevator.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Spencer said as we entered the elevator. I can tell he was still nervous, the thrumming of his fingers against one another and the bouncing on his feet a few signs hinting towards his anxious state.

“You look dashing as well. Although I do remember telling you to dress casually, mister,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face at the sight of his own.

Spencer was wearing a dark pair of slacks with a light purple button-down shirt. His hair was slicked and combed back. He was rocking back and forth on his beat-upped chucks and I can see the mismatched socks peeking through. He looked a bit silly, especially considering where we are going, but handsome nonetheless.

“I don’t have casual clothing. Plus I wanted to look good for you.” I could feel my face getting warm because of his words. “By the way, it’s doctor.”

I giggled at his comment, which caused him to laugh as well. We exited the elevator and out of the lobby.

“We’re going to take the subway to our destination,” I informed him. “It should take less than half an hour to get there.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“It’s still a surprise, doctor,” I beamed at him.

Fortunately, we did not experience any delays on the train. We spent the duration of the commute getting to know one another even more. He told me some stories involving outings with his co-workers and I could tell that he really loved each and every one of them. I shared some work stories and funny memories with my colleagues as well.

Once we got to our stop, I grabbed his hand and led us to the festival. It was a 10-minute walk from the exit. I turned to him as soon as I saw our destination within our sights.

“A food and wine festival?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when we were talking the other day but I thou—“

“I like it, especially since I’m spending the day with you.” There goes my heart again, picking up pace as if I ran a marathon. I’m sure he says these things on purpose just to see me flustered.

Spencer squeezed my hand in his and we explored the grounds. We decided to share a plate from each stall so that we can experience as much as possible. Spencer walked us to the first stall he saw, which showcased food from the Philippines.

“Did you know that Filipino food draws roots from their neighboring Asian nations as well as some Spanish countries?” he stated as we looked at the menu, “It is considered to be a perfect blend of Western and Eastern food. Actually—” he suddenly stopped himself. I looked at him curiously, wondering what caused his interruption.

“Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I want to hear what you have to say. Let’s order something and you can finish telling me.”

He smiled brightly at me and squeezed my hand. After ordering a siopao to share, we sat at a table while he finished telling me facts about Filipino cuisine. As a matter of fact, he told me a lot of information about various cultures and countries as we walked from vendor to vendor.

We tried risotto from an Italian booth, which Spencer said was not as good as his friend’s cooking. We also got carne asada tacos from a Mexican food truck, where I discovered that tomatoes, dragon fruit, and vanilla originated from Mexico. We ate some sake nigiri sushi from a Japanese stand. I found out that Spencer cannot use chopsticks to save his life. I decided to feed him so that he doesn’t accidentally drop our food. We ventured to numerous vendors and had our fill in almost everything that was offered. We even had desserts and some drinks.

By the time Spencer and I made it back to our apartments, we were both stuffed. I was close to going into a food coma and I knew Spencer wasn’t far behind either.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in my life,” he commented as we stood in front of my door.

“You and me both. I’m sure I gained 10 pounds,” I joked, enjoying the way he laughed at my attempt at being humorous. I still held his hand in mine, not wanting the evening to end, but I knew it had to. We had spent the whole day together and we were tired.

Spencer made the decision for us. He lifted my hand, placed a chaste kiss on my knuckles and wished me sweet dreams before he retreated to his own home.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely charmed by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The third date I had with Spencer was ruined, but then fixed.

I was organizing a picnic basket when I received a call from him. I was puzzled as to why he was calling, especially when we’re supposed to meet up in a couple of hours.

“Hey (Y/N)” His voice came out gruff as if he just woke up.

“Hi Spencer, are you okay?” I heard some coughs coming from his end and I immediately became concerned over his well-being

“I don’t think I can go out this afternoon. I’ve been sick these past few days. I was really hoping to get back on my feet by now. I am so sorry.”

Before he could say anything else, because I knew he would in his remorseful state, I interrupted him. “Spencer, it's fine. We’ll raincheck,” I assured him. He tried to thank me, but another set of coughs came over. These sounded worse than the first ones.

Spencer managed to get out a goodbye before hanging up the phone. I contemplated what to do. He sounded so sick and miserable on the phone. He likely has a sore throat, maybe even muscle aches. The idea of him alone and shivering caused a dull pain in me.

I decided that I was going to see this man. I could make him something warm to eat and lend him my thickest blanket. We could even watch a movie together too.

With that in mind, I made some chicken soup and herbal tea. I put the items in containers before placing them in my picnic basket. I grabbed my largest and heaviest blanket, placing it over my shoulder. It wouldn’t fit in the basket, no matter how many times I folded it. Lastly, I grabbed my laptop, so that we can stream movies. Spencer once told me he wasn’t big on technology so I had no idea whether he owned a TV or not.

Once I had all the essential items, I made my way across the hall, knocking on his door. Unsurprisingly, it took a while for him to open the door. I waited a minute or two before he answered and was disheartened by what I saw.

Spencer was pale, well paler than usual, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. His under eyes were dark and his nose was so red. He wore a robe over his pajamas. He looked as if he was about to fall over any second now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing the blanket wrapped around me. His voice was slightly slurred and he was leaning on the doorframe to keep himself up.

“Well I figured since I couldn’t take you out on a picnic, I’ll take the picnic to you.”

He looked down at my hands, noticing the basket I was holding.

“You shouldn’t be around me, you’ll get sick.”

“Spencer Reid, you’re worth the cooties. May I please come in?”

He relented, leaving the door open for me to follow. I took in his apartment, appreciating his more vintage style. He had a massive collection of books, some of them in languages I couldn’t even identify.

“You have a miniature bookstore in here,” I commented. I turned towards him, seeing his figure laying down on the couch.

“I like to read,” he simply said, the words muffled by the couch cushion he was lying on. I went towards him, shrugging off the blanket from me and placing it on top of his lap.

“If you get cold, use this to keep you warm. I’m going to heat up the soup and tea. Try to stay awake for me.”

Spencer nodded his head, bunching up the soft material in his hands. I quickly grabbed the content from the basket and dashed to the kitchen. It took me a few minutes to find where he puts his utensils, but I had everything taken care of in no time. I even found a tray to help me carry the food.

I brought the dishes to him, warning him of the heat. “I hope you like chicken soup and ginger tea. I added some honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.” He thanked me, holding the bowl close to him to keep him warm. I settled myself on the couch next to him, happy that he wasn’t complaining about our proximity.

“I have my laptop with me. We can watch some movies if you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.” We ended up watching The Matrix and Minority Report. Spencer tried his best to stay quiet during the films, but couldn’t help but to comment about certain technicalities and improbabilities. I found his rambling endearing, adding in my own opinions after he finished sharing his thoughts. I had to remind him to not strain his voice when he got on a tangent on how the idea of living in a simulation is not possible. He lost me once he started talking about quantum physics.

Spencer looked at the clock, noticing the late hour. “Are you going to leave?” His voice was low, and I am positive it was not because of his ill state. He was talking with passion and intensity a few moments ago.

“Do you want me to?”

“No. Is that selfish of me?” My heart skipped a beat. Knowing that he wanted me to stay with him gave me feelings I couldn’t quite describe.

“Of course not, Spence. We could have that sleepover you missed out on,” I stated enthusiastically. He stared at me for a moment, and I wondered if I misunderstood the situation. Before I could apologize for my assumption, he started talking.

“That’s the first time you called me Spence.” He’s right. All this time I’ve been addressing him as Spencer or Dr. Reid. “I like it,” he finished.

“Let me grab my pajamas and some toiletries. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I sprinted to my apartment, changing into my sleepwear and grabbing my necessities before returning to Spencer’s. I am sure I was there and back under five minutes.

Spencer and I continued our evening playing board games. We played some chess (which I lost at) as well as poker (which I also lost at). He showed some card tricks and tried to teach me a basic one. I couldn’t do it as smoothly, but he said that with practice I could become a magician.

I knew the night was coming to an end when he began to yawn every few minutes. Despite saying that he could stay up longer, his body needed to recover.

“You should take my bedroom,” he offered after coming back from the restroom, “You’ll be comfortable there.”

“Absolutely not. Slumber Party rules dictate that we sleep in the same room.” He laughed at my proclamation.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. Now I’m going to use your bathroom. Do you keep your spare sheets in the closet?”

He nodded drowsily as I made my way to his bathroom. I did my nightly routine and grabbed a blanket from the closet. When I returned to Spencer, he was already dozing off.

He looked so peaceful at this moment, I’ve never seen such a look on him. I kissed the bridge of his nose and made my way to the armchair.

I settled myself as comfortably as I can.. Before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard a “Goodnight” coming from his direction. When I peeked to see if he was awake, his eyes were still closed but he had a wide smile on his face.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely captivated by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fourth date I had with Spence, he was in charge.

Spencer told me that he wanted to take me out as a way to show his gratitude. I wanted to tell him that it was unnecessary, but he looked so eager and I didn’t want to take that away. Plus, I was looking forward to whatever he came up with. I know that with Spencer, I am bound to have a good time.

He kept everything a secret for me, which was no surprise considering how our first official date went down. The only thing he told me was to dress nicely, yet comfortably.

My body was pulsating with excitement. I made sure to spend extra time with my makeup. I didn’t want to go overboard, but I definitely wanted to accentuate my features. I chose to wear a maxi skirt with my favorite blouse. I added a few accessories and paired everything with some heels.

I didn’t have to wait long before hearing a knock on the door. He always seems to have impeccable timing. I practically floated towards my door with how happy I was.

Spencer was dressed in black dress pants and a deep blue button-down. The outfit was accompanied with a dark tie and blazer combo. He even had dress shoes on, which came as a surprise since this man loves his chucks.

“You look as handsome as always, Doc.” He smiled at my words. I love that he was more comfortable with my compliments. It seems like we came a long way from him stammering over his words and fidgeting with his hands. Although I must admit that I am going to miss his bashful behavior.

“I got this for you.” He revealed what appeared to be a corsage in his hands, the flowers of the accessory matching the one pinned to his blazer. “Uh- I-I know it is probably a bit um juvenile. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“Spence, I love it. And I’ll love it more if you put it on me.”

He beamed at me, taking the corsage out of the casing and carefully securing it on my wrist. He was so gentle and patient while doing the task. Once he was done, we headed down to the lobby.

“I hope you don’t mind that I am driving,” he said as we made our way to what I assumed to be his car, a two-door pale blue Volvo. I was not surprised, this is his exact style.

“As long as you get us to our location in one piece, I don’t mind at all.” He opened my door for me before settling in on the driver’s side.

As Spencer drove, we talked about the antique style of his possessions. He shared that his Mom had a similar taste and he was very close to her when he was younger. I wanted to ask more, elated that he was telling me about his family, but decided to hold back. The way his voice wavered as he was talking showed me that this was a major effort for him. I decided to share some stories about my family and their influence over my own lifestyle.

Time always seems to fly with Spencer because before I knew it we were already parked. Being the chivalrous man that he is, Spencer made sure to open my door for me. He held my hand as we walked to the restaurant. I admired the ambiance of the venue. There was a band playing soft jazz music and lights scattered upon the ceiling. The décor was beautiful and the overall atmosphere was very cozy.

The hostess led us to our seats after Spencer informed her of our reservation. We sat at a corner table, providing us the perfect amount of privacy.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine recommended this place. He said that it was the perfect place to...uh, woo a girl.”

“Well, I am entirely wooed. But that is mostly due to the present company.” He smiled at me, before looking at the menu. I decided to do the same after noticing the pink tint at the tip of his ears. I still got it.

The rest of our dinner went smoothly. We ordered our meals as well as a glass of wine, in which I was informed of the many health benefits that come with drinking a glass of red. I was able to convince Spencer to show me a magic trick using a coin and napkin. He did it multiple times, yet I couldn’t find out how it worked. We talked about music, literature, art and so much more. We were so deep into our conversation that we didn’t notice our food had arrived.

My food smelled amazing and tasted even better. I couldn’t help but ask Spencer for a bite of his. He was willing to share as long as he got a piece of my food as well. We ended up splitting our meals with each other.

After paying for the entire bill, much to my protest, Spencer took my hand and led me out of the restaurant. I thought it would be the end of our night together but was wrong. Spencer said that there was one more surprise for me.

The car ride this time was a bit on the longer side and I wondered where on earth he could be taking us. It wasn’t until I saw a sign that a large smile appeared on my face.

“A drive-in theater?” I excitedly asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I hope you don’t mind watching a scary movie.”

“As long as you don’t mind me holding you when I get scared.”

“Deal.”

It was not difficult to find a good spot to enjoy the film. I screamed and jumped multiple times for two hours straight, much to Spencer’s amusement. He attempted to distract me by telling me facts about certain aspects of the movie which marginally helped. By the end of the film, I had started to get drowsy due to all the mini shots of adrenaline.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as he drove us home. I could hear the uneasiness in his question. I’m not sure why he was nervous, this was hands down the most fun I ever had on a date.

“Of course, Spence. This had to be the best date I ever went on. Thank you.”

He smiled widely at the road and I made sure to cherish the moment. It was not often that I got to see such a large grin on Spencer’s face. Happiness was such a good look on him. It makes him appear much more lively and handsome.

I closed my eyes, allowing them to rest momentarily. I didn’t expect to be so tired from an outing. The motion of the car driving on smooth pavement was almost like a lullaby that lured me into a light slumber.

I’m not sure how much time has passed before I was lifted into someone’s arms. If it wasn’t for the scent of coffee and cinnamon, I surely would have panicked. I felt the press of warm lips on my forehead and couldn’t stop the sigh that left my mouth. I buried my head deeper into the arms that cradled me.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I definitely adored Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fifth date I had with Spencer was unplanned.

Spencer has been going on cases more often recently, so we didn’t have a chance to meet. We’ve been texting one another, even calling if time allows it, but I wanted to see him.

When he told me that he was finally flying back home, I decided to meet him at his job. I considered whether or not this would be crossing boundaries, but chose to accept the consequences of my actions later.

The drive to the building where Spencer works was not as long as I imagined. After receiving a visitor’s pass from the front desk and a vague direction of where to go, I found myself lost on the sixth floor.

“Can I help you sweetheart?” a feminine voice asked me. I turned to see a brightly colored fashionista in front of me. I was in awe of her vibrant attire. “Hun?”

“Oh uh, I’m sorry. I’m—I’m waiting for Spencer Reid to return. Umm, is there a place where I can wait for him?”

She beamed at me, her comforting smile providing me some relief. “The team isn’t coming for another half hour. You can wait in my office if you’d like.”

I nodded my head and followed her, taking in my surroundings. I have never been in such an official building before.

“Here we are,” said the kind stranger, leading me to a room filled with a bunch of monitors and computers. “I’m Penelope by the way. I work with Spencer and friends.”

“I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s neighbor.” I practically saw a lightbulb go over her head as she let out a squeal. Penelope started talking a mile a minute, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. It wasn’t until she saw the bewildered expression on my face that she paused and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Spencer has spoken about you a few times. I didn’t want to assume initially but I figured who you were earlier. Our resident genius doesn’t get many visitors here.”

My face heated up. I was stuck on the fact that Spencer spoke about me to his colleagues, the people he considers his second family. I wondered what he said. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing, he always seems to catch me at some mortifying moments.

“Anyway,” Penelope continued, “you have to tell me about yourself. Spencer doesn’t share enough details and I promised not to search you up.”

For the next half hour, Penelope and I traded information about ourselves. She told me how she got the job as a technical analyst and some other activities she does outside of work while I told her about my typical routine and favorite pastimes.

Penelope’s phone vibrated and she immediately looked at her screen. “They’re here. Let’s go meet them upfront.”

We walked back to where I came from, standing in front of the elevators. We didn’t have to wait long for the doors to open before I saw a pack of people exiting. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer, he was the tallest in the group.

Spencer was currently looking at his phone, typing something on the screen. He finally brought his head up once he put his cell away and I felt mine vibrate with a notification. Once his eyes landed on me, he pushed past the people he was with and darted towards me.

I opened my arms as he drew me into a tight hug. It is a shame that I have not embraced Spencer more because he gives the best hugs. Everything about him automatically puts me in a tranquil state of mind.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once he put some space between us.

“I wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay. I missed you.” That beautiful smile graced his face one more. How is it possible that this man is in my life?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Spencer and I away from our bubble. My face heated up as I saw his friends surrounding us.

“Who’s this pretty lady Reid?” asked the muscular man. I looked at all his colleagues, recognizing the blonde as the woman who was at his apartment a couple of months ago. That was when I mistakenly thought she was his girlfriend. She smiled at me, no doubt knowing who I was.

“This is (Y/N), she’s my gi—uh she’s my ummm …” he trailed off, glancing at me. I didn’t notice that we have yet to establish our relationship with one another.

“I’m his neighbor,” I finished. Spencer introduced me to his team before telling me to wait while he gathered his belongings. During his absence, Penelope convinced me to join her for a girl’s night out in the future with the other ladies. I couldn’t say no to the offer, her enthusiasm was seeping through her pores.

When Spencer returned, he grabbed my hand and said his goodbyes while leading us to the elevator. I saw Penelope whisper excitedly to the muscular man that I learned was named Derek, before the doors even got a chance to close.

“My car is here. I can drive us back home,” I informed Spencer.

He nodded his head as we exited the building and made our way to the car. I know that Spencer does not particularly like to discuss his cases, so instead I asked him questions of the places he has been at recently and whether he had the chance to explore. He animatedly told me of a book he purchased that was in a foreign language as well as a vinyl record he got at a music store.

“Can we go to the park?” he suddenly asked. I was a bit confused but decided not to question him.

“Yea, sure.”

The park was not far from where we currently were. After finding a spot and getting out, he took my hand in his once again, leading us down a serene trail. The sound of crickets chirping while the soft wind breezed through us was very relaxing. I looked up at the sky, taking in the tiny visible stars and full moon.

Spencer stopped walking in the middle of the trail, tugging my hand so that I was closer to him. He stared at me as his tongue brushed across his lips.

“(Y/N)?” His voice had that shy tone once again.

“Yes, Spencer?” He brought his hand up to tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“May I kiss you?”

My heart started racing at his question. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. My voice was stuck in my throat so I nodded my head instead.

Spencer’s hand gently held my cheek as he leaned down towards me. I closed my eyes once his soft lips landed on mine, wrapping my free hand around his neck. He tasted sweet, as I knew he would. I pressed more firmly against him, enjoying the sound of his moan when I swept my tongue across his lower lip. He allowed me to explore his mouth as he did the same to me.

I pulled away after a while to catch my breath. Spencer placed his forehead against mine, breathing heavier than I have ever seen.

“(Y/N)?” he panted out, his voice a lot more confident than it was beforehand.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I looked into his gentle hazel eyes, embracing all the emotions he was showing me through them. That gorgeous smile adorned his face once more. He looked so beautiful right here.

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Spence.”

I captured his lips this time around, relishing the warmth of his mouth on mine.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely in love with Spencer Reid.

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silma-words · 4 years ago

Note

Another prompt for Adrian and MC...

Number 5 / "say please"

not sure how you want to take this one, but I thought the smut could be next level... have fun! 😂

N/A: Omg I cannot thank you enough for this prompt @mssukeyna! This was so much fun, and a great prompt to push me a little out of my comfort zone! I literally woke up 2h earlier every day so that I could write more before work ;) I hope you’ll like it!

~~~~~

Choices: Bloodbound

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Ellie)

Rating: Explicit (NSFW, 18+)

Genre: Smut.Smut.Smut

AU Chronology: Bloodbound AU (after book 1 – the events of book 2 never happened) – ‘Inevitable - Arc I: Before we part’ (Masterlist)

Summary: “We are travelling for business, Ellie, we’ll have to behave like professionals”, he had warned her, although he did not look so convinced about it himself….

Inspired by the following nsfw-prompts: #5. for sex in public / “say please”

Words: 4200

**Disclaimer: Characters and background plot are the property of Pixelberry.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Down to business (Part I?)

Getting to travel was one of the perks Ellie enjoyed the most about her job as the CEO’s personal assistant. She never really had any opportunity to get out of her small town before she moved to NYC, and had always been of a curious nature. This job was a dream come true on that matter. But some trips were better than others. The ones that revolved around business negotiations, although exciting in their own ways, were not her favourites. By far, the ones she preferred were the ones that were meant for networking, for Adrian to maintain his relationships with previous business partners. There had not been many of those since she had started working at Raines Corp. but she loved those very much. These business trips revolved mostly around socializing. And socializing was one of her strengths.

But the reason she liked these trips the most was not because of the fancy dinner parties, the pricey hotels, or the designer dresses she got to wear to play the part. No. What she liked the most were the times she could have to herself in between social events, to explore around and satiate her curiosity about ‘the rest of the world’, and the times when she could get Adrian all to herself. He was more relaxed during these trips. More light hearted. More playful. As well as more tuned to her cues than when they were travelling for more serious business. And that, she loved to play around with. A lot.

Adrian was always doing his best to keep up the façade of the boss-assistant interactions between them when they were in public. And she completely understood why. Truly. But that was also so tempting for her to do her best to weave her way through that invisible barrier he was tentatively setting between them.

She would brush his fingers when he would hand her a drink. Sneak a hand up his thigh under the table at dinner. Fiddle with her long strands of hair to attract his attention to her neckline. Oh, his poker face was good. Spot on. Decades of practice truly paying off. But whenever she played her cards well, she could see that façade slowly crumble down. His cheeks slightly changing colour as she would whisper sweet - well maybe not so sweet - nothings to his ear. His Adam’s apple moving slightly at the sight of her legs shifting as she would change position on her seat, her skin exposed through the slit of her dress. His speech suddenly stammering slightly as she would slowly caress the inside of his calf with her foot, whenever she had been sitting across from him at dinner and had felt bold enough to risk reaching blindly under the cover of the table cloth.

She always made sure to keep her face composed so that the other guests would not notice how Adrian’s reactions were directly connected to her. But she would also cast him a challenging look as soon as the moment had passed, to make it perfectly clear that the game was on. And never once had she received back any kind of response that would indicate that Adrian was not on board with this. He might play the game by pretending that this behaviour was totally unprofessional, but they both knew that Adrian had never been anyone who cared much about the rules.

This time, their ‘socialising trip’ had led them further from home than ever before. Ellie was finally given the chance to fly out of the country and get a glimpse at Europe, with their first stops leaving her in awe at the wonders of the Italian countryside where they had stayed for five days to catch up with a couple of Adrian’s old ‘friends’ who had chosen to retire there. She did enjoy the socializing parts way more than she had anticipated: who would have dared to complain about the exquisite cuisine, the tours of the vineyards, the breath-taking views over lakes and mountains, and the luxurious guestrooms they could discreetly retreat to when the schmoozing was getting boring and the yearning had become too much.

The last part of their ten-days trip had also reached beyond of her expectations: she had always dreamt of discovering France, and although their journey would not grant her her secret wish of seeing Paris, she found out that the luxurious hills and valleys of the South-West of France were as equally magnificent as what she had seen so far over the last few days. There was so much history around, old medieval castles and ancient caves that she wished she could explore, that her curiosity and excitement seemed to be only matched by Adrian’s nerdy enthusiasm. European history was not necessarily his strongest suit, but he did know quite a few things about it, and gladly shared with her his knowledge about the places they travelled through. His expertise on French wines was definitely spot on though. And kind of sexy too.

Their guest was – unsurprisingly – a wealthy investor who had inherited a prosperous estate from his great-grandfather who was, originally, the business partner Adrian had been trading with at the beginning of the twentieth-century. Pretending to be his own descendant was apparently something Adrian was quite used to. Even though their current host – Emile – was pretty obnoxious.

They dined, visited local investors, attended a couple of art exhibitions grand opening nights. And indulged on wine, local delicacies, and smouldering gazes in between polite handshakes and casual conversations. Ellie’s French was not really up to the challenge when other guests could not speak English, but luckily Adrian was doing quite well in that department – another sexy trait to add to that very long list that Ellie kept filling up in her head.

That night, their host had been planning a special treat for his guests – Adrian and Ellie among a larger group of about thirty: a tour of his private ‘art collection’, followed by a fancy garden-party on his estate. Ellie had been looking forward to it, until the tour had started and she had realised that most of these ‘pieces of art’ were actually ancient remains that Emile had bought from lucky ‘discoverers’ around the world and snatched from the hands of archaeologists and museums to fill up his own little private gallery. As the tour was going on, she kept grumbling by Adrian’s side, drawing the attention of a few other guests that were marvelling at these stolen relics and obviously did not care much about how these had been acquired. As the group proceeded to move on to the next room, Adrian discreetly motioned her to move aside and slow her pace, grinning at her once they had managed to place themselves at the tail of the touring group.

“I know this is grating you, but this is quite a common thing these days – there is no point sulking about it now while there is not much we can do about it”.

“You’re the one to talk, ‘Mr-I-glare-at-that-old-British-dude-for-buying-an-original-John Trumbull-canvas-to-decorate-his-guestroom’!”, she retorted challengingly. “These objects are as important to historians as those Revolutionary War paintings you keep talking about. They shouldn’t be kept in here only to be displayed once a year to a bunch of rich morons who care more about how much he paid for it than about what these objects were”.

“I know, I know…” Adrian admitted with a sight, raising his hands in surrender. “But as I said, there is not much we can do about it now. Let try to survive through this tour and enjoy the night.”

Rolling her eyes, Ellie let out an annoyed sight and finally nodded, her tensed shoulders still betraying her frustration.

The tour proceeded, Adrian and Ellie sharing eye rolls and annoyed looks every time Emile would brag about the price of a unique item. They always kept behind when they could, making a point of looking at some of the glass panels in detail to at least try to learn a little something out of this display of wealth. But that revealed to be a nearly impossible endeavour. There was barely any labels or information attached to these objects whatsoever. Nothing there to keep them distracted from that never ending tour. Well. Apart from each other.

It started with just the tingle of his breath in her neck as he was hovering above her to look at an old grease-lamp from some ancient cave. And then continued as she would casually hook her arm through his while staring at the antic statue of a Roman god. And a brush of his fingers down her spine as he stood behind her pretending to listen to Emile’s dull blabber. Her hand sneaking along the side of his thigh as they followed the group around. The light pressure of his hand on her lower back as he led her to move past him into yet another room.

Pretending to pay attention to their host was increasingly difficult. Preventing their faces from betraying their very unprofessional thoughts even more so.

“I know I have said this before but…”, Adrian whispered in her ear, a playful smile forming on his lips, “I love that little tempter of yours… it makes me feel… a lot of things”.

He could hear Ellie’s heartbeat race in her chest at his words, even though she was keeping her eyes trained on the display panel before them, doing her best to keep her composure while the predatory tone in his voice was making her knees tremble slightly. The other guests were buzzing around them, pointing at glass display cases here and architectural features there, oblivious to the heat surrounding the two secret lovers as if the bubble Adrian and Ellie had formed around them had turned them into two of those trinkets exposed around the room that nobody was truly paying attention to.

Trying to break through the thick air that had been lingering between them, Ellie shifted on her heels to follow the flock of people that were regrouping to move along, casting a knowing smile at Adrian, and holding his gaze for a few seconds before walking away.

But before she could turn left into the next corridor, she felt his arm wrap around her middle, only to swiftly whoosh her aside to a secluded corner of the room, out of sight from the rest of the group thanks to one of the strong pillars that supported the roof of the exhibition room. A gasp escaped her lips as he sprung her around, pressing her back against the cold marble as he eagerly captured her lips in a searing kiss, his hands pressed against her neck, and his torso edging closer to her chest as she was gradually yielding to his powerful embrace.

Trailing her fingers up his neck until they reached his hair, she eventually gave a gentle tug so that she could make a break for air, their lips just a few inches apart as she teased, breathless: “I thought we had to keep our public appearances strictly professional, Mr Raines?”

She felt his grin against her mouth more than she could see it. “Well, what we are doing now is purely professional, Miss Reed. If there was anyone left around to see us, I’d just explain how I was telling all about...” he paused to nibble at her lower lip for a few seconds, “... about the sturdiness of these eighteenth-century pillars...”.

“Eighteenth century, han?” she giggled against his lips, her voice catching in her throat to form a silent moan as Adrian’s mouth began to trail down her chin to follow her jawline.

Her mind struggling between the will to keep her eyes open to check that no one was in sight, and the tantalizing swirls of his tongue against the skin beneath her ear, the shivers that were running down her spine quickly sorted that battle for her. She let her eyelids drop and her head fall back to rest against the stone behind her, focusing only on Adrian’s touch and on the way his hands had now started to drift from her neck to her shoulders, inching lower and lower as his mouth tasted the salt of the skin down her neck and along her collarbone.

Her hands unconsciously travelling from his hair to his back, they suddenly grabbed his shoulders a little tighter to press him closer as she felt him reach for the fabric of her dress to bunch the black silk over her hips. It took all of her will to remain silent when Adrian wedged his knee between her legs, her lips tightening in a thin line to repress a whimper as his fingers trailed down one of her thigh to her knee so he could lift her leg up against his hip, pressing himself forward to conquer the empty space between them.

She could feel his grin against her windpipes when her hips started to grind against his of their own accord, the tight grip of his fingers against her rear sending waves of heat down to where their bodies met.

“I think one of us should keep an eye on that corridor, in case anyone is sent out to look for us” he whispered against her skin, before lifting his gaze back to her, his golden eyes glimmering with mischief. “Would that be a mission you’d be happy to take on, Miss Reed?”

“Of course” she manages to answer, her voice croaking from anticipation.

“Good.” he grins. “Then, you’ll have to face the other way…”

She barely had time to register what he meant before she felt the heat of his body replace the cold marble that had been pressing against her back. She instinctively reached forward to place her palms on the pillar as Adrian resumed his pressing touches eagerly, one arm wrapped around her chest to keep her close, and the other finding its way between her thighs.

She could peek at the corridor ahead of them from where they stood, most of their bodies hidden by the imposing column that seemed to edge closer and closer to her as Adrian’s touch became more insistent. But being able to see ahead did not mean that she was actually looking. Even if she had wanted to fulfil her ‘mission’, the pressure of his left palm against her thigh and the hand that slipped under the fabric of her cleavage made it near impossible to focus on the task. The soft bites and kisses her neck were subjected to were not helping either.

Not being able to see or touch him was like torture, his quiet groans vibrating from his chest to her ribs, and his arousal pressing firmly against her back like a wicked promise that was for now beyond reach. Her back arched involuntarily when a firm hand grabbed her breast, his warm breath beneath her ear betraying his grin as the fingers on her thigh started to wander towards the edge of her underwear, playing with the seam of the lace before sneaking underneath with a deliberate slowness that had her whimper behind her tightened lips.

The light graze of his fingertips against her swollen nerves was all that was needed to weaken all muscles in her body, making both of them dangerously tumble forward as her arms gave in, removing the only leverage she had against Adrian’s pressure in her back, which had been keeping her so far from being flushed against the cold marble with no room to escape the sweet torment of his heated caresses.

Even though her eyes were now shut, she knew that Adrian was watching closely her features when she let her head fall back to rest in his shoulder, her brain going into overdrive when his touch became more pressing, kneading her breast and drawing lazy circles against her centre relentlessly. It was not long before she lost the last bit of control she had left over her own body, her lips parting slightly to let a moan escape, quickly muffled by Adrian’s mouth covering hers in an attempt to preserve the silence around them.

That might have worked perfectly, if only he had been able to kiss her with more restraint. Instead, his tongue had quickly found its way through her parted lips, brushing hers in patterns mirroring the movement of his fingertips between her legs, swallowing her whines as if he could taste her own pleasure through the ragged sounds that he was drawing out of her.

She was itching to touch him. One of her hands had left the cold surface of the pillar to find its way to his head and tangle in his hair, her entire body squirming against his to seek the friction that she was craving for. She knew he was trying to make her lose her mind. And it was working. She could feel his fingers slide gradually further down against her core, dipping into the wetness of her folds before retreating back, drawing growl after growl each time.

She could tell Adrian was relishing this by the way the corners of his mouth curled against hers. It was only when he suddenly pulled away from her swollen lips that she finally opened her eyes again, the lust and wickedness of his gaze sending a shiver all the way down to her toes. He had stopped moving, simply holding her petite form against his chest as tight as deemed possible, his golden eyes anchored to hers with an unmistakable gleam of challenge and promise.

“Adrian…” she mumbled feebly, desperately trying to grind against him but unable to resist his hold on her.

He smiled, remaining silent for a few seconds, before finally breaking the stillness with a low, husky voice, in a tone that was somehow both inviting and commanding: “Say please”.

There was no hesitation in her response, no control, her rasped voice echoing around the room as she begged, breathless: “Adrian, pleeeaaase…”

Thankfully, he did not make her say it again, barely waiting a few seconds before plugging a finger into her dampened slit, followed nearly immediately by a second, resuming his circular patterns over her swollen clit with the pad of his thumb. Withdrawing and dipping back into her with maddening slowness, she could feel her muscles clench around his fingers and her knees start to quiver as the pleasure was slowly building in.

Her dilated pupils could not tear away from his golden eyes, silently begging for more as he increased his pace, his hips grinding voraciously against her back, his mouth inches from hers as if resisting the urge to kiss her so that he could revel in the sweet music of her feverish whines echoing around them.

“Adrian… this is… so…” she tried to mutter between her gasps.

Adrian’s eyes flashed with a voracious gleam as he purred against her lips with a proud smirk, “so… good?”.

Her lips pursed weakly to form a teasing grin. “So… unprofessional”.

His smirk only widened further at her words, his hands suddenly moving away from her burning skin to grip her hips, making her head jerk up from his shoulder in surprise. She was about to complain when he swiftly swirled her body around and crashed his lips onto hers, pushing her back against the pillar, the contrast between the cold marble and the heat of her skin making her jump a little in his grasp.

It was not long before Adrian’s hands had found their way back beneath her dress, his fingers reaching hurriedly for the hem of her thong as his mouth started to descend from her mouth to her chin, roaming over her neck and her collarbone, until he sunk to his knees before her, skipping the parts of her that were covered by fabric to head straight for the space right below her navel. Dragging her underwear down her legs, he only broke the contact between his warm lips and her skin so that he could guide the lace over her heels, quickly shoving the fabric in his pocket before capturing her pulsing nub between his lips, not wasting any minute before expertly starting to explore her aching core, nibbling and suckling with an unmatched dedication.

Her hands were roaming all over his head, tangling her fingers in his hair and pushing her hips forward to demand more, her lower lip caught between her teeth to repress the urge to cry out with every stroke of his tongue, or every time the deft fingers that were slithering up and down her inner thigh came close enough to tease her entrance before retreating back wickedly. As much as part of her wanted to pull him back up to his feet and beg him to take her now, the other part could not even fathom the idea of making him stop his godly work between her legs.

There was no more coherent thought going through her fogged brain. Fragmentary visions of heated memories and unspoken fantasies were flashing before her eyes, mingling with the rousing sight of Adrian down on his knees before her, tasting her fervently in every way that she had ever dreamt of being tasted.

When she felt the intoxicating warmth of his mouth suddenly leave her centre, her mind unconsciously thanked him for ending this sweet torture, expecting the yearning in her core to be satiated soon enough when she would finally get to feel him inside her.

But that sweet release never came.

It took her a few seconds to realise that Adrian had jerked back up to his feet and hurriedly pulled down the fabric of her dress, unceremoniously grabbing Ellie’s waist to move her away from their hiding spot, releasing his grip once she was standing beside him in front of one of the display cases, their back turned away from the corridor.

She had to grip the edge of the display case to keep herself steady, her knees still trembling from Adrian’s handywork just a few seconds before, her eyes opening and closing at a maddening pace to try to clear her clouded brain and regain her senses. It was only when she heard the distinct sound of a pair of heels echoing towards them that she finally understood.

“Monsieur Raines?”, they heard a woman’s voice call out at a distance.

Adrian’s cheeks were flushed, and his hair completely tousled, but he made a quick work of fixing it as well as fixing his shirt with a smirk, mastering the art of regaining his composure in a flick of an eye, like the annoyingly perfect businessman that he was. Ellie fumbled around in an attempt to do the same, fully aware that she would never be able to be as efficient as Adrian, especially in the state of desperate yearning that he had just put her through. She was still panting, her heart thumping in her chest, pupils dilated and cheeks hot from so much blood rushing to her face, both from arousal and from the embarrassment that she knew was about to come.

Ellie jumped a little when the woman’s voice finally reached the room they were in: “Ah, Monsieur Raines! Je vous ai trouvé! Le buffet va commencer, si vous voulez bien rejoindre les autres invités dans le jardin?”.

Ellie had no clue what the woman had just said, and was in no shape to turn around and let the woman see the state of her. She was so grateful that Adrian knew exactly what to say and how to behave casually to buy her a few more minutes to sort out the mess he had made of her… although hearing him speak French was not helping much getting her arousal under control, as he politely answered the woman: “Merci, nous vous rejoignons dans quelques instants.”.

Ellie sighted with relief when she heard the woman’s footsteps retreat, turning around to face him, glaring at him with her best attempt at a reproachful scowl.

“That was….” she started, before being interrupted by Adrian’s mouth on hers, as he pressed a soft kiss on her swollen lips, before pulling away slowly with a grin.

“… unprofessional?” he teased, earning a falsely unamused eye-roll in return.

“We better get going, the party is starting, and all of the other guests are gathered in the gardens now” he announced, translating what the woman had said, but not releasing Ellie from his embrace just yet.

“I am in no state for socialising now” she admitted with a grimace, although she could not fight the teasing grin that was starting to form on her face. “I will never be able to focus properly after this… all I will be thinking about is sorting out this… hum, unfinished business…”

Adrian’s hold tightened a little more around her waist at her words, his eyes still gleaming with mischief and never leaving hers when he stepped slowly away, grabbing her hand to start dragging them both away from the room.

His voice was husky and full of promise when he casually answered with a teasing smile: “Well… unfortunately, we’ll have to play along a little bit longer I’m afraid… but I will certainly be looking forward all evening to the second part of this… unfinished business…”.

~~~

N/A: If anyone else is as eager as Adrian to see how ‘Part II’ of their little ‘public indiscretions’ is going to play out, let me know, and I’d be happy to oblige 😉 This prompt has inspired me way too much, thank you so much for the ask @mssukeyna 😉

~~~

Tagging @adriansbiss , @itsjustwinter , @shanzay44 , @purvishraick, @thefrenchiemama

@choicesficwriterscreations

#bloodbound #bloodbound choices #adrian raines #adrian raines x mc #bloodbound fanfiction #cfwc #choices fanfiction #play choices #choices stories you play #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week #asked and answered

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stiltonbasket · 4 years ago

Note

For the renouncement verse I’d love to see a continuation of the one with Xichen and Lan Qiren, with pregnant-with-a-girl wwx being gently coerced to be lazy for once in his life by, apparently, the entire lan clan

(author’s note: double prompt this time! and please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

Anon 2: helloooo for the renouncement verse, do you have anything during wei ying's pregnancy, like lwj fretting over wwx bc i feel that wwx would still do crazy experiments even whille he's pregnant?

Wei Wuxian is not particularly good at sitting still.

In fact, everyone who knew him at Lotus Pier when he was a child—and everyone he met at the Cloud Recesses, too—knows that he prefers scaling little cliffs and swimming and climbing trees to resting, even under a physician’s orders; and that never really changed until the last four years of his first life, which were riddled with barely-hidden illness after the loss of his golden core.

But his resurrection returned him to full health, and full strength, so that even the strange fits of nausea that began soon after his wedding (which Wei Wuxian naturally blamed on the bland cuisine of his married home) turned out to be a baby instead of some weird kind of mountain plague. Lan Zhan hasn’t been worrying any less since they found out about the little one, of course—if anything, he seems to be worrying more—but the point is that Wei Wuxian is well into his fourth month, which means that his sensitive stomach is back to normal again, along with his dislike for staying in bed.

And since Wei Wuxian is only with child instead of actually sick, why would he stay in bed when he could be up and causing trouble? He wouldn’t, and he won’t, which is why he cheerfully disregards all of Lan Xichen’s warnings about rest and spends the fifth day after the healers give them the news experimenting in the jishi.

With fire talismans.

And smokescreens.

And a great many other things that horrify Lan Zhan past the point of speech when he comes crashing into the workshop, and get Wei Wuxian bundled right back into bed with Xiao-Yu keeping watch to ensure that he remains there.

(He also set the jishi’s chimney on fire, which was probably why his husband broke the door down instead of lifting the locking talisman, now that he thinks about it.)

“You cannot take such risks,” Lan Zhan says hoarsely, cradling Wei Wuxian’s flushed face in his hands and pressing their brows together. “Wei Ying, xingan, anything could have happened if you had breathed in the smoke, or if you grew lightheaded while the door was locked, you—my darling, please, please leave such dangerous things for after the baby is born. It is not safe for either of you.”

“It was only a little fire,” Wei Wuxian protests, before Lan Zhan leans in and presses a fervent kiss to his lips. “And I had purification talismans in the room to keep the air clean, anyway. I’m fine.”

“Suppose they had failed?” his husband counters, tracing the curve of his cheek with a finger that shakes so much that Wei Wuxian nearly bursts into tears at the sight of it. “Suppose the fire spread from the hearth, and you could not put it out in time? What would I have done then, Wei Ying, with my heart’s beloved and my child in danger?”

“Well, I suppose...”

“No more experiments,” Lan Zhan tells him. “At least none that you cannot safely perform in the jingshi with Xiao-Yu and myself close by. Please, sweetheart.”

Wei Wuxian promises to stay out of his workroom, since he still hasn’t quite worked out how to say no to Lan Zhan yet; but he does refuse to keep off his feet, because that suggestion comes from Lan Xichen instead of Lan Zhan.

“Find something safe for me to do, then!” he complains. “I’m not an invalid, Xichen-ge! In fact, I feel stronger than ever. I’m going to go swimming tomorrow, just wait—”

“You will do no such thing!” Lan Xichen cries, horrified. “Suppose you catch cold? It is nearly winter, a fever of the lungs this late in the year could kill you!”

And then he tells Lan Zhan, the traitor, and gets Wei Wuxian banned from entering any body of water except for Zewu-jun’s hot spring until the baby arrives. He isn’t even supposed to bathe there without supervision, because the warm water might make him dizzy enough to drown without someone there to watch him even if it does wash the tension out of his back and shoulders.

Even Lan Qiren seems to be determined to keep both Wei Wuxian and the little one in the best of health, which he discovers when he stalks over to his uncle-in-law’s house in the sixth month to tell him that Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen are being tyrants.

“I’m not allowed to mess around in the jishi anymore,” Wei Wuxian grouses, counting on his fingers as Lan Qiren sighs and fills up his plate with braised pork and plenty of healthy greens, seasoned strongly enough that even Wei Wuxian wouldn’t mind eating a full serving of them. “I’m not allowed to go swimming—” and here Lan Qiren pours him a cup of sweet soymilk and pushes the dish of warm potatoes closer to Wei Wuxian’s side of the table— “and I can’t even teach anymore, since I lost my balance and sprained my wrist in the lanshi just one time!”

“You are heavier than you used to be,” the older man observes. “If you had not caught yourself in time, the fall could have seriously hurt you, let alone the baby.”

Wei Wuxian lays his head down on the table—as well as he can, that is, with the baby in the way—and groans. “I know,” he says, aggrieved. “It’s not that I want to put us in danger, but I’m so bored, and I have to be useful somehow.”

Lan Qiren freezes with a cup of tea halfway to his lips. “Useful?”

“I’m the Chief Cultivator’s husband, xiansheng. I can’t just sit around doing nothing,” Wei Wuxian huffs. “If I can’t work on my talismans, and I can’t teach, and Zewu-jun won’t let me do any of the sect work because he’s afraid I’ll get tired, what can I do?”

The teacup thumps back onto the table with a sharp clattering sound. “Wei Ying. Nephew, that is enough. I will hear no more of this.”

Wei Wuxian lifts his head in surprise. “Ah?”

“You are not here to be useful,” Lan Qiren says severely. “We are your family, and this is your home, and you may do whatever you please in it. Have you been so poorly treated here that you must sit here before me, scarcely three months from your confinement, and fret about doing nothing when you ought to be resting and preparing for the child’s arrival? Because I will have words with Wangji if so, make no mistake, and—”

“Lan-xiansheng, no!” Wei Wuxian cries. “That’s not what I mean, it’s just…”

He has the rest of the denial on the tip of his tongue, but a tear rolls down his nose and plops onto the steaming lotus roots before he can say anything.

It hardly makes sense to him at first, because he truly does love tinkering with spells and talismans in his workshop, making cultivation as accessible to people without golden cores as he can, and he loves teaching the baby disciples and going on night-hunts with his own faithful little flock of juniors; but his body has made its exhaustion very clear in the past several weeks, and sometimes all he wants to do is curl up in Lan Zhan’s arms and sleep the day away with his childrens’ voices keeping him company from the next room.

And Lan Zhan wants him to rest and let him dote on him more than anything, so why does Wei Wuxian keep fighting it?

“It’s not his fault,” he murmurs, dimly aware that the plate of hot-and-sour potatoes looks suspiciously damp. “It’s just… me, I guess.”

“Eat your food,” Lan Qiren tells him, sounding suspiciously gentle as he puts a sweet bean cake into Wei Wuxian’s bowl. “And make sure you finish your tea, I put strengthening herbs in it.”

His uncle-in-law comes back to the jingshi with him after lunch, along with Lan Xichen, and the three of them have a very long talk with Lan Zhan while Sizhui and Jingyi babysit Xiao-Yu; Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren offer him and Lan Zhan advice, and Lan Zhan pulls Wei Wuxian into his lap and comforts him without bothering about the impropriety of it, until he can finally nod off to sleep when the two of them are alone again.

“I’m really not a bother to you, Lan Zhan?” he whispers, tucking his face against his husband’s chest and listening to his heartbeat. “You don’t—mind, that I can’t do very much with this baby?”

“No, never,” Lan Zhan chokes. “Wei Ying, why didn’t you just tell me you were feeling this way? You cannot imagine how much I want—how I need—”

“Need what?”

“Let me look after you, sweetheart,” his husband pleads. “Let me look after you both. Give me the privilege of satisfying my beloved’s every wish, and soothing your fears when your heart is heavy, and keeping you and our little one well. Please, xingan?”

(Upon further reflection, perhaps it is a good thing that he never learned to say no to Lan Zhan, after all.)

#wangxian #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #renouncement verse #my fic #wangxian arranged marriage au

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quidfree · 3 years ago

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prompts,.,, fem tdbk and a date gone very wrong ? ❤️

ohhhh my god anon. pump this shit directly into my veins i love this whole premise let’s go. also all inspired by whatever the fuck horikoshi was doing in this

just so everyone is on the same page here, it is not a fucking date.

it’s lunch. a singular lunch. people do that shit all the time. even katsuki does lunch, sometimes. she went to that semi-shitty diner place with kirishima that one time when the food hall was shut because some dumbass first year exploded into goo or whatever. and todoroki does lunch, too- her and deku were on some shitty lunch date like a week ago, as evidenced by deku’s even shittier selfie of them having a grand old time doing whatever the fuck they do alone.

fuck, not a shitty lunch date. a shitty lunch. whatever.

the point is lunch is a normal non-date thing people do, and the fact katsuki and todoroki are maybe not the usual suspects for it is just circumstantial. it’s not like they planned it ahead of time, or made some big thing about it. they literally arranged for it in public, so obviously todoroki didn’t think there was anything weird about it. and there isn’t! they’re both going to be in tokyo on the same day, and todoroki’s always happy for any excuse to spend less time with her old man, and katsuki sure as fuck wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to avoid her hag of a birth-giver for a few blissful hours, so when todoroki had very nonchalantly gone ‘oh, bakugou, we could do lunch then”, it wasn’t like she had any real reason to tell her to go fuck herself. like, yeah, maybe a year ago, on principle, she would have, but even katsuki can only take so much trauma-bonding before she resigns herself to the reality that she’s stuck with half ‘n half for life, one way or another, and she may as well suck it up and approach civility because said moron is determined to ignore her open malice until she plays along anyways. they’re... you know, whatever. friends. or something. jesus.

the point being that it’s not a date, and the fact that she’s getting increasingly annoyed at her limited wardrobe is just because she would have packed more shit if the crone hadn’t insisted that they ‘pack light’ so they could get cheaper train tickets for less luggage. it’s just annoying that she can’t wear anything that’s not screaming holiday.

it occurs to her as she sits and scowls at her suitcase that her mother has been watching her from the doorframe for some undetermined amount of time, which is criminal mainly because she’s a goddamn hero-to-be and getting snuck up on by anyone is a blight upon her good name. she tries to disguise the ego damage dealt by glowering murderously in her progenitor’s direction.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“you know,” the she-devil says, cocking a hip, “if you want to borrow something nicer...”

“i wouldn’t be caught dead in your shitty clothes!” katsuki snarls, which prompts the witch to immediately scowl back.

“watch your damn mouth!”

“watch your waistline! no way in hell are we the same size!”

“why you little-”

the interruption at least reminds her that she is obsessing over her clothes ahead of meeting todoroki for lunch, which is so humiliating it kickstarts her brain again long enough to grab some normal shit and get the hell out of there.

on the walk she checks her phone again. the previous day she’d had to bite the bullet and make the first move, todoroki’s infamously terrible communication skills making themselves known once more, and their ensuing conversation had been so mortifying she’d nearly cancelled all-together.

to: Half ‘n half

Yo asshole are we still meeting tomorrow or what

I’m busy as shit

from: Half ‘n half

Yes. TS

to: Half ‘n half

What the fuck is TS

from: Half ‘n half

I was signing off.

to: Half ‘n half

SIGNING OFF ON YOUR OWN TEXT

YOU THINK I DONT KNOW YOUR DAMN NAME

from: Half ‘n half

[Pin attached]

Does here at 12.30 work for you?

to: Half ‘n half

Yeah whatever

Don’t be late

And don’t think I’m forgetting the fucking signing off thing

from: Half ‘n half

Glad you can make time for mockery in your busy as shit schedule.

the venue looks like some rich person shit, which she semi-expected, but it means a lot of people give her weird looks as she makes her way inside, probably on account of the shorts and t-shirt she’s wearing if not her general vibe. some old woman actually drags her purse to her, which makes katsuki sorely tempted to bare her teeth and maybe hiss for effect, though she settles for scowling and shoving her hands in her pockets. it’s 12.27, because she wasn’t going to be late but being any earlier would have given off some dubious impression that she’s eager to see todoroki, except now she kind of wishes she’d just come for 12.30 because if there’s some reservation bullshit she gets the feeling she’s going to start fighting with the waiting staff, and then-

“bakugou,” todoroki calls, from inside, raising a hand with unnecessary formality. “you made it.”

“course i made it,” katsuki grunts, absolutely not relieved as she by-passes the suspicious looking waiter to join her outside. “think i can’t ride the damn underground by myself?”

todoroki is wearing jeans cuffed at the ankles and a white t-shirt on top of which she’s thrown on an open button-up with the sleeves rolled up, and she looks casual and normal and incidentally kind of like they dressed to match, but the important part is that she doesn’t look dressed up at all, so katsuki was totally right about the non-date situation, and also isn’t the only one totally underdressed for the shitty venue.

“you look nice,” todoroki says then, completely shattering katsuki’s brief moment of reprieve. “i’ve never seen so much color on you.”

katsuki almost chokes on her own tongue, but the worst part is that the asshole seems completely nonchalant about the weird as shit observation, focused on her stool as she takes a seat on the balcony. which- what the actual fuck? since when does todoroki issue compliments unprompted- of the non-professional variety, at that? and what the fuck does she expect katsuki to say now- return the compliment? say thanks? is this whole thing some kind of exercise in psychological torture?

well, fuck it. she can’t look like a little bitch just because todoroki said something inanely positive. two can play that game.

“yeah. you look half decent yourself. did you hire someone to dress you for the occasion?”

todoroki blinks up at her in surprise, which is totally a win and would make her more smug if she could stop feeling so weird and prickly all over. for a dangerous moment todoroki seems on the verge of blushing, but miraculously the world rights itself and the usual deadpan persists, one brow quirking up in completely feigned ineptitude.

“there was a compliment somewhere in there, so thank you, i think. i thought we were past this vendetta.”

“we’ll be past this vendetta the day you burn your piece of shit hero suit,” katsuki retorts, back on familiar ground, and relaxes long enough to squint down at the menu.

this turns out to be a mistake.

“the fuck? is this whole thing in french?”

“oh,” todoroki says, after a beat. “that makes sense. i thought my english had deteriorated.”

“are you- you didn’t know? you recommended the place!”

“it was the nearest place to our hotel,” todoroki defends, now having the decency of looking slightly put out. “coq can’t mean what i think it means, can it?”

“that’s chicken, asshole,” katsuki hisses, flinging the menu down. “great, now we’re going to have to flag down one of the shithead waiters and ask for a japanese menu. excuse me! hey! yeah, i’m talking to- what the hell, did he just blow me off? hey, jackass! you with the shitty mustache!”

“sorry about that,” todoroki interjects, when mustache asshole turns an offended stare their way. “do you have the japanese menu?”

“we only serve the food in its authentic form,” mustachioed asshole says, with frigid self-satisfaction. “might i suggest google translate?”

“might i suggest my foot up your ass, you shitty-”

“that’s fine,” todoroki says, in a flat tone that implies otherwise. “we’ll make do.”

the waiter sniffs pretentiously as katsuki thinks about all the ways she could beat his ass into next tuesday, running an aggravated hand through her hair when the wind rustles it into her face. she’d half expect todoroki to suggest they fuck off elsewhere, but when she looks back her way she finds an ill-boding gleam of determination in her eyes despite the impassive set to her face, and it’s a testament to how fucked in the head ua has made katsuki that she feels a sort of sick thrill of recognition at the sight. todoroki’s in stubborn bitch mode.

“i’ll have this,” todoroki says, sure enough, pointing to the most expensive item on the menu. “and also this. and one of those.”

the waiter’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull, and todoroki looks unfazed in katsuki’s direction, tapping pointedly at a sleek black and red credit card in her wallet. “bakugou?”

well, if endeavour’s paying....

“sure,” katsuki says, slowly, and then turns her meanest smile the waiter’s way. “i want the frog legs.”

mustache clears his throat, attempts condescension. “we don’t serve that here.”

“you’re a gastronomique restaurant,” katsuki says very loudly, as other clients turn to stare, “and you don’t have fucking frog legs? is this a joke? does this napkin say authentic french cuisine or am i hallucinating?”

“i can ask the chef,” the waiter demurs, casting a nervous glance at the muttering snobs nearby, and attempts an ingratiating smile. “anything else for you, mademoiselle?”

“what did you just call me?”

once the ordering debacle is over, todoroki slants katsuki what may well be an apologetic glance, vaguely contrite frown sitting pretty atop her usual dead-eyed stare.

“i probably should have read up on the place ahead of time.”

katsuki is well within her rights to chew her head off, she thinks, but food’s on the way and she got to yell at the asshole who gave her the once-over when she came in, so she’s feeling forgiving, even in the face of todoroki’s annoyingly doll-faced apology. the bitch really has to do the bare minimum and she looks like a fucking kpop idol.

“yeah, whatever. i always knew you were a shitty ops planner.”

todoroki, who is an asshole, looks relieved at her generous forgiveness for all of a second before she quirks a brow. “between the two of us, i only count one person who has actually spoken the words ‘shoot first, ask questions later’.”

“that was in a training simulation,” katsuki protests, outraged. “and you know damn well the actors were annoying as shit!”

“i did find them slightly too committed to the role,” todoroki concedes neutrally, which totally means she agrees with katsuki 100% and is being precious about it. katsuki scoffs.

“least the view’s decent.”

“the-“ todoroki starts, in weirdly confused tones, until she follows katsuki’s gaze outward and nods in understanding. “oh, the skyline. yes.”

what else katsuki could have meant she doesn’t fucking know: they’re sitting pretty in the middle of tokyo. the only thing the hellhole of a restaurant has going for it at this point is the cityscape.

todoroki stares out into the distance for a good long moment, and with the breeze her negligently loose hair whips this way and that, red and white blur where the two halves mingle. instinctively katsuki itches to braid it flat so it doesn’t tangle. if todoroki asked her she’d tell her to just cut her damn hair into a bob or something- it’s not like icyhot has any attachment to her princess hair, and she’s got the obnoxious bone structure to pull off any length. not that she’d mention this last part. or that she’s given it much thought. it’s just fucking obvious.

if todoroki could keep her mouth shut throughout the rest of the meal, it could be sort of nice. tokyo skyline, and companionable silence, and presumably edible food. worse ways to kill some time, and way less incriminating than anything that may be said otherwise.

“i think this is the part where we make small talk,” todoroki says instead, sadist that she definitely is, as katsuki grimaces feelingly her way.

“no, we don’t.”

“well, we don’t. but this is the part where we should.”

“i don’t even believe you can last a minute of small talk, icyhot.”

todoroki looks pensive, mismatched eyes thoughtful. “...how has your day been?”

“uneventful,” katsuki says, combative, and eyes her watch. todoroki does not give.

“this place seems nice.”

“you don’t even think that.”

“how have you been finding tokyo?”

“noisy.”

“the weather seems-”

“no.”

“you look nice.”

“you said that already, dumbass,” katsuki grunts, palms crackling with sweat, and does not at all read into the way todoroki makes a stupid little movement with her mouth that could ungenerously be interpreted as a pout.

“well, i meant it, so i’m saying it twice.”

“give it up, half ‘n half, just ask me about training.”

“...how is your training?”

“i did this thing yesterday,” katsuki starts, leaning back in her chair, and from then launches into a very technical and barely exaggerated retelling of the batshit insane stunt she pulled off with her quirk the day prior. todoroki’s focused attention is gratifying, in a totally platonic non-weird way- it’s just that her parents couldn’t very well follow why exactly said stunt was as insane as it is, but todoroki obviously can, and also there’s that thing with todoroki where pulling a reaction out of her ice queen act is admittedly more satisfying than most people. it has jack shit to do with the fact katsuki’s got a very minor complex about todoroki paying her her dues, and even if it did then that’s entirely fucking reasonable considering she still hasn’t forgiven her for the sports fest incident.

it is a little weird having todoroki’s sole focus on her outside of hero shit, though. it’s not like they really hang out one on one outside of school or work. it’s kind of- unnerving. yeah. unnerving, to be making prolonged eye contact, todoroki’s expression intent but not intense the way she gets in fight scenarios, frowning lightly because she has resting bitch face but apparently genuinely interested. it’s kind of a relief that todoroki asks questions- moves them safely into a conversation, so katsuki’s not just sitting there talking and sort of dry-throated. fucking waiter, leaving them water-less.

it’s fine. they talk about training, and quirks, and then todoroki pushes her hair behind her ears and leans forward to demonstrate on a small scale this thing she’s trying to do where she melts her ice and refreezes it in rapid succession so it causes what is essentially ice rain, but there’s logistics and shit that need to be worked out for it to work the way she’s thinking it might, and katsuki knows her thermal shit so they start scrawling maths over the napkins, and then bicker over the finer points of first year chemistry, so when the food actually arrives to interrupt them todoroki’s startled blink is weirdly relatable, like she also forgot where they were.

the waiter’s there and gone before they’re really recovered from the brief misplacement, which katsuki registers only when she looks down at her empty glass.

“goddamnit- how hard is it to bring us water?”

“they only offer sparkling,” todoroki says, gravely, then outpaces katsuki’s disgust by placing her hand over her glass, ice rising before she switches hands and melts it down. “tell me if the temperature’s off.”

intensely mollified and trying not to look it, katsuki sips it. “’s fine.”

“okay,” todoroki says, faintly pleased, and tilts her head to look down at her food. “i have no idea what any of this is.”

“moron,” katsuki snorts, except it comes out way fonder than it has any rights to, and from beneath the convenient curtain of hair todoroki’s smiling a little, so she hastily stabs a frog leg and gets to eating before anyone gets any ideas.

the actual meal goes okay-ish. most of the stuff todoroki ordered is extremely pretentious french cuisine, and todoroki secretly has the culinary adventurousness of a five year old, so it befalls katsuki to impatiently attempt every dish and pronounce it edible before todoroki will deign to brave it. she’s still trying to bully an unyielding todoroki into attempting the weird bird soup thing when there’s commotion nearby. it takes the both of them approximately three seconds to spring into work-mode; katsuki’s on her feet poised for a fight before she’s even consciously thought about it, scanning her peripherals, and she doesn’t even need to look to feel todoroki unconsciously covering her back, cool sting of air signalling her quirk at the ready.

the commotion turns out just to be some old dumbass choking, relaxing them both out of their stances as she falls back to let todoroki ahead. they’re both uber-qualified for first aid shit, but she’s self-aware enough to know even todoroki’s bland reassurances are usually preferred to her bedside manner. unfortunately, the whole entourage seems to be braindead, because they’re all crowding the old guy in a panic while he chokes, his wife in shrieking hysterics.

“oh, my god, he’s choking! he’s choking! sugar-plum, stay with me!”

“fuck me,” katsuki mutters, unethically thinking that she would personally prefer choking to being married to someone who calls her sugar-plum, but todoroki’s pushing ahead with implacable calm, so she trudges after her anyways.

“excuse me. excuse me. i need access to your husband.”

“who are you? don’t touch him! help! get this woman off my husband!” wailing hysteric yells, bosom heaving dramatically. katsuki is starting to suspect she poisoned him on purpose or some shit, because no way does anyone talk like that in real life.

“she’s a fucking qualified first aid provider, lady, shut up and let her through!”

thankfully, the woman seems on the verge of an outrage aneurysm, which drags her focus away from suffocating her choking husband to dramatically pointing at katsuki long enough for todoroki to duck past her and reach the guy as he turns purple.

“how dare you speak to me that way? who do you think you are?”

“ma,” chinless moron number one says, clearing his throat. “i think that’s one of those future pros from TV.”

“what?”

“you know, ma,” chinless moron number two adds, glancing nervously between them. “the one that explodes things. you know. from UA.”

katsuki takes great pleasure in watching recognition dawn in the old cow’s beady eyes, but in any event there’s a hacking noise and then the old man’s coughing out a bone into his plate as todoroki steps noiselessly back from the table.

“he’s fine now. enjoy your dinner.”

“god, that was gross,” katsuki says, as they ignore the woman’s sputtering and return to their seats. todoroki tilts her head.

“not really. if he’d thrown up it would have been.”

“not the choking guy,” katsuki scoffs, casting a glance back his way. “his wife. talk about theatrics.”

“she seemed more afraid of us than her husband dying.”

“for good reason,” katsuki mutters darkly, spreading out in her chair. “i hate civilians.”

“i don’t think she recognised us,” todoroki counters, pensive, and absent-mindedly takes a bite of the weird soup before she screws her face up like a betrayed kid. “oh. you didn’t say it was sweet.”

the look on her face thoroughly distracts katsuki from asking what other reason the pearl-clutcher could possibly have to be so terrified at the mere sight of them; instead, she chokes back a laugh, stifling a grin. “what are you, five?”

“i don’t think i like this,” todoroki says, mournful, which makes katsuki grin harder. she can’t help it- todoroki looking stupid is her kryptonite.

“then don’t pick a restaurant where you can’t read the menu, next time.”

todoroki’s midway to looking up, but for some reason her expression transforms instantaneously, which makes katsuki reflexively try to quash her amusement. todoroki always gets weird when she’s smiling.

“next time?”

motherfuck. obviously she didn’t mean next time like next time, she meant next time like- hypothetically, in the future, when todoroki’s on a lunch date with someone else. a lunch non-date. she’s just about stopped sputtering furiously long enough to try and express this sentiment when it occurs to her that todoroki seems- pleased, one eye soft sky-blue when katsuki accidentally meets it, and that draws her up short long enough that she ends up just muttering lamely to herself. fucking todoroki.

on the heels of this utter embarrassment, she downs the rest of her water, scowls in a neat 180 at everything in sight, and wonders for the first time in her life how the fuck extras get through dates. not that this is one.

it’s fine. they’re done eating, and no one’s died, and katsuki is no longer fifteen and thus mostly trusts her ego to lick its wounds and recover from the ordeal. even if they stick around for desert that’s only another half hour of this to endure. as long as todoroki doesn’t make any sudden moves they’ll be fine.

...the problem is, of course, that sudden moves are todoroki’s modus operandi. katsuki has not forgotten the bitch calling them friends on national television in the same breath that she was vociferously denying them being anything of the sort. in todoroki’s fucked up brain, they’re always ten steps ahead of whatever they actually are- considering katsuki’s come around to privately acknowledging she’d take a couple more stakes through the gut for the asshole, in todoroki’s world they're practically hitched.

platonically. platonically practically hitched. this is not a thing, goddamnit. no matter the weird looks aizawa’s been giving them, or utsushimi’s nefarious schemes, or the alarming cardiopulmonary condition katsuki’s been developing of late. she’s not some shitty yuri protagonist pining over the nearest female bishōnen in her vicinity.

admittedly if she was to pine over anyone it sure as fuck wouldn’t be some guy, but that’s besides the point, since pretty damn near every person on earth is just some guy by her standards, regardless of gender. the fact that todoroki is not one of said people is entirely irrelevant.

her internal irritation is so distracting that she misses the tremors nearby until entirely too late, by which point todoroki’s stupidly perfect brows raise an incremental fraction and she goes: ‘oh’.

when todoroki goes ‘oh’, some shit is about to go down.

katsuki turns slowly with an impending sense of doom, and sure enough, the sight that greets her is so nightmarish she seriously reconsiders whether the entire day has been just that.

“don’t freak out,” a giant building-sized deku booms, apologetically, as his hideous giant face stares at them. “it’s just a quirk thing.”

it’s probably a good thing katsuki has gone speechless with outrage, since it permits todoroki’s constantly composed ass to ask useful questions katsuki probably would have coated in a fair amount more threats and cursing.

“midoriya. i didn’t know you were in tokyo.”

“well, i wasn’t meant to be,” deku says/booms like a foghorn, as the restaurant clientele shrieks and stampedes behind them. his sheepish expression is even more punchable when magnified. “it’s a long story. it’s almost sorted out now, though. i just saw you guys from over at the NPA office and thought i’d come ask if you maybe wouldn’t mind lending a hand? i wouldn’t ask but there’s going to be a lot of cleanup and your quirks would be really helpful to-”

“we’ll do it as long as you shut the fuck up,” katsuki yells, to cut him off, massaging her temples. “the monologuing’s bad enough when you’re not about to burst my fucking eardrums, jackass.”

“oh, sorry! i’m trying to be very quiet but this body’s just hard to get used to- thank you so much for helping, i didn’t mean to come bother you on break...”

“it’s fine,” todoroki says, and then seems to realise that her monotone doesn’t reach midoriya’s giant-ass ears and clears her throat, raising her voice to a shout. “it’s fine. let me go deal with the bill and then we’ll go.”

“sorry?” midoriya whisper-shouts, craning his monstrous head closer to them, the sight of which will haunt katsuki for the rest of her life. “i can’t hear what you’re saying!”

“she said she’s going to go pay for our nice fucking lunch,” katsuki hollers, with no small sense of satisfaction, as deku winces and todoroki slinks off. “since you want to come crashing it like a dipshit.”

“sorry, kacchan!” deku begs off, flapping hand gestures creating enough wind to knock over a nearby umbrella stand. “i just thought it would be a lot of help if you came to oversee the fall-out- especially with the building damage-”

“we’re good,” todoroki announces, to katsuki, apparently having given up on matching her in decibels. she’s got that classic hero look on her face, already in work mode, but just when katsuki’s about to do the same and jump into action, the look wavers a little and she frowns vaguely awkwardly. “thanks for doing lunch.”

“huh?” katsuki stutters, thrown, and then scowls at nothing in particular, stalling. todoroki’s the one who paid, albeit indirectly- it’s typically weird of her to be all formal about it all of a sudden, leaving katsuki to attempt to wriggle them out of the awkwardness of the moment. “i didn’t do shit except show up and eat, weirdo.”

“it’s been abnormally hard to show up and eat in the circumstances,” todoroki replies, a little wryly, and more concerningly a little resigned sounding. which is just unnatural, because todoroki may have expanded her range of emotions considerably since first year but resignation is not on her usual roster, and there’s nothing to be resigned about unless she had some kind of vested interest in this whole fiasco playing out any better than it did.

which she didn’t, obviously. katsuki’s been through this. she chose the nearest possible venue and rocked up in jeans and a t-shirt, and- and why is the fact that todoroki never dresses so normally out of class only now occurring to her, again?

she’d said ‘i think this is the part where we do small talk’. the part of what?

“yeah, whatever,” katsuki says, automatically, as her brain plays catch-up, which is the excuse she will forever stick to for what leaves her mouth next. “should have known you’d be a lousy date.”

todoroki goes ‘what?’ at the same moment deku does, ten times louder and more bug-eyed, which reminds katsuki that 1) deku is still there, 2) deku is still as big as his martyr complex, and 3) deku is the fucking worst, and allowing him to trap her into friendship is somehow responsible for this, she’s sure of it.

“can we go handle this fucking mess or what?” katsuki snaps, instead of screaming or breaking deku’s very large nose or maybe self-immolating in abject humiliation, hands erupting into explosions as she jumps onto the balcony railing. maybe if she throws herself headfirst into the debris she’ll concuss herself and turn amnesiac.

“um,” deku is saying, when she turns a withering glare his way. “um, yes! yes! yeah! let’s go do that!”

so she jumps skywards, explosions blasting her high into the air, and very scrupulously does not look towards the sounds of slick ice forming just behind her until todoroki skates into her peripheral vision, hair waving flag-like behind her. ahead there’s a building with a crater clean through it where deku must have erupted from, though when she turns to comment she finds him a fair deal behind them, lumbering pace slowed further as he avoids stepping on anyone or anything along the streets. instead her eyes lock on todoroki’s where the latter is staring at her, face unreadable, and she bristles hard enough to disrupt trajectory, correcting course rapidly before she plummets into an office.

“what?”

“i’m a lousy date,” todoroki repeats, neutrally, over the wind. katsuki grits her teeth.

“and what about it?”

she’s bracing for a lot, but not the horrible, sickening eye-crinkle thing todoroki does, dark eye twinkling even as her expression stays carefully impassive. “you think you can do better, then?”

“hah?”

“next time,” todoroki intones, very precisely, and then dips ahead like a complete coward as katsuki goes a color never previously visible to the human eye, sifting through about fifteen emotions before she decides to stick to outrage.

“what the hell? you suck at asking people out, icyhot!”

“you don’t have to say yes.”

“what, you think i can’t do better than this mess? you’re on, asshole.”

“i look forward to it,” todoroki says, gravely, and then there’s a collapsed building to handle and shit to do and if anyone wants to ask why katsuki is so especially gleeful in blowing shit up they wisely keep their mouths shut. she just likes the job, all right.

(for the record, it’s still not a date until katsuki says it is.)

#qui repond #qui ecrit #anon #prompts #tdbk #todobaku #fem todobaku #fem todo #fem baku

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because-of-a-friend · 4 years ago

Text

Bestfriend!Mingyu College AU

MASTERLIST

Thanks for the request @caratcakemix !!! This is my first time writing something like this so I hope I did ok!!! But I enjoyed it because I like pushing myself to do new things! There’s two more requests after this and then I’m going back to finishing the Falling Flowers series! Love you guys!!! Thanks for all the endless support and patience!

Word count: 4.3K

Warnings: (Most likely terribly written) angst (I’m so sorry, I feel like it’s so bad)

Summary: You and Mingyu had always been best friends. It’s been that way for as long as you can remember. But when the line between friendship and something more gets blurred, will you take it further or lose each other completely?

“No Mingyu, I don’t feel like walking all the way over to your dorm,” you sigh, kicking off your shoes as you enter your own living space, “it’s across campus.”

“[Y/N],” his voice drags your name out in a long whine. “Pleeeeeeeease, Dokyeom went home for the weekend and you know I hate staying here by myself!”

“Your dorm is not haunted, Gyu. It’s just the old pipes making those noises.”

“What do you even know about pipes,” he grumbles before silence overtakes the conversation.

You sigh when he doesn’t say anything else, “If I stay there, will you buy me food?”

You hear rustling on the other side as Mingyu is undoubtedly fist pumping in victory, “YES! YES! I will!!!! Thank you!”

“Ok, give me a bit to shower and grab some stuff. The food had better be there when I arrive,” you hang up and throw your phone on the couch. You sigh in defeat. It’s always been annoying that Mingyu has been able to get you to do anything with hardly any effort, but for some reason, lately it’s been more frustrating than usual. The thought prompted you to zone out for a moment, your mind racing to find an explanation.

You shake your head, attempting to clear your thoughts, before finally moving from the spot where you had been standing to go get ready.

*******************************************************************************************

The strange frustration you have with Mingyu settles down in the back of your mind and doesn’t leave.

But it’s easily ignored when Mingyu opens the door of his dorm to let you in, wearing a comfy looking hoody and a bright smile, and holding a plate of wings from your favorite chicken place down the street.

You step in while lifting the plate up out of his hands. Mingyu laughs at your forwardness and follows you into the living room area.

“Are we watching movies?” you ask around the first chicken wing that’s already been shoved into your mouth. “I don’t have any homework this weekend, so I’m down to do whatever.”

Mingyu shuffles over to where you’re sitting on the couch before slumping down to lay his head in your lap, “Yeah, let’s watch that new action movie.”

“I’m tired of action movies,” you grumble.

“Well I hate all the horror movies you like watching,” he whines.

“Let’s compromise and do suspense then.”

Mingyu reluctantly agrees. However, the two of you spend the majority of your evening scrolling through movies and shoving chicken into your faces.

“Thanks for doing this, [Y/N],” Mingyu suddenly mumbles, right as you two are about to fall asleep, awkwardly crammed onto the tiny dorm couch. The annoyance pops back up to the front of your brain right before you fall asleep.

*******************************************************************************************

The next day the two of you waste time playing games, binging shows, trying to get ahead in school (not), and snacking. Mingyu keeps thanking you for staying with him.

“I guess it’s an occupational hazard when your best friend is an unbearable extrovert,” you tease. “You’re just lucky I didn’t have a date or something this weekend.”

Mingyu laughs loudly in response, “Yeah, you on a date.”

“Hey!” you say throwing a pillow at him. “I could have a date, jerk face. What do you know about my romantic life?”

“I know that you turn down every date that comes your way.”

“No, I only turn down the dates you try to set me up on because your friends are creepy.”

“Creepy is harsh,” Mingyu argues.

“I guess so... but the guy that wore fedoras all the time was creepy.”

“Ok that’s true, I should’ve seen that one coming.”

“The rest weren’t so creepy as they were just incredibly hard to get along with.”

“Maybe you’re the one that’s incredibly hard to get along with,” Mingyu teases before another pillow is thrown at him. “I’m just saying, maybe don’t be so... picky. Lower your standards and date for fun instead of trying to find your soulmate.”

You get quiet for a moment as you consider his words, “I guess you’re right. I mean I’d like to have the experience of dating in college.”

“I’m so glad you said that!” Mingyu exclaims clapping his hands and plopping down in front of you.

“Did you say all of that just to convince me to go on another date with one of your friends?” you roll your eyes.

“Maybe... But! I think you’re really going to like this one! I met him through Dokyeom. His name is Soonyoung, he’s a dance major who’s a year older than us. He’s super nice, entertaining, and is always fun to hang out with!”

You sigh and give Mingyu a look, “Ok, you know what? Fine, let’s do it.”

Mingyu is always able to get you to do whatever he wants you to, and it’s getting more and more annoying.

*******************************************************************************************

You always got nervous before the dates, although you’re not sure why. Maybe it was just restlessness over the thought of wasting a night with a guy you most likely would not call again. But this time, Mingyu’s words spun around in your mind. You were going to try this time to just go with the flow and have a little fun.

You stood outside the restaurant. It was a little fancier than your usual college student cuisine, but not so nice that you had to worry about what you were wearing. Which honestly made you sigh in relief. One of the guys Mingyu set you up with took you to a super nice restaurant for the first date and ended the night with a discussion about marriage. You’re not sure you had ever fled a date so fast.

“Hey, you’re [Y/N], right?” your attention is grabbed by a voice in front of you.

He’s tall, almost as tall as Gyu. His hair is bleach blonde and he’s got the biggest smile on his face.

“That would be me!” you return the smile. “Soonyoung, correct?”

“Correct! You ready to go inside?” he asks before gently guiding you with a hand on your lower back.

You’d be lying if you said the gesture didn’t send butterflies into your stomach. With most guys, you’d see the action as creepy at best. But something about Soonyoung felt... comfortable.

Soonyoung sits across from you at a tiny table, nervously petting his hair down, “So um, Dokyeom told me you’re a STEM major. That’s really impressive.”

You laugh a little, “If you call scrambling to finish assignments until 2AM every night and hardly knowing what I’m doing impressive, then yeah I guess so.”

“Oh come on,” he insists, “Even just getting into the STEM program at our school means you must be incredibly smart.”

“Well what about you? Being a dance major is just as difficult if I heard correctly. You just have to overwork your body instead of your brain like I do!”

Soonyoung agrees readily to the point, “That’s true, I guess college is just hard for everyone, huh?”

“Very true,” you affirm.

The conversation continues easily. Soonyoung is lovely to talk to. His jokes are all funny instead of offensive, his habits are cute instead of gross, he’s polite instead of overbearing. Soonyoung is a nice change of pace from the other guys you had been on dates with. But...

There wasn’t anything there. I mean there should be at least a little bit of romantic attraction to date someone, right? Otherwise, you’d just be leading them on.

“Hey Soonyoung,” you say towards the end of the date.

“What’s up?” he asks, his smile never fading.

“Can I ask you something that’s potentially strange to ask someone on the first date?”

Soonyoung furrows his brows for a second before nodding, his smile returning, “Ask me anything!”

“How do you feel right now... about me?”

“I feel like you’re really nice...” he laughs a little.

“No I mean like romantically... there’s...”

Soonyoung pauses for a moment, considering what you said and how to proceed with his words.

“There’s nothing right?” you finally put it out there. Soonyoung nods slightly with your words. “I mean I really like hanging out with you!”

“Me too! You’re so much fun!” he agrees.

“And this is way better than all the other dates Mingyu has set me up on.”

“You wouldn’t believe some of the stories I have from the dates Dokyeom has been setting me up with!” Soonyoung adds.

“It’s just that there’s...” you trail off.

“Nothing,” you both say together before laughing.

“And I don’t want to write this off completely, because I do like hanging out with you,” you pick back up. “But can we maybe just be friends first?”

“Yes, yes! That sounds amazing!” Soonyoung’s smile grows wider than it has the whole evening.

“Ok then we’re splitting the bill, I saw you trying to sneak it out of my sight.”

“Ok, but in that case, I’m walking you home.”

*******************************************************************************************

Your friend group grows a bit after that because you and Soonyoung actually do become friends. Like... really good friends. Soonyoung comes over all the time and honestly you’ve never enjoyed life more. After being stuck with a friend group that was mostly people you knew before even coming to college, it was nice to make a new friend.

Soonyoung was really a wild card in your life. He liked different things than most of your friends, so he really pushed you out of your comfort zone. Even though you’re not dating, you still feel like Soonyoung has helped you experience so many things that you wanted to, to have the full college experience.

It’s mostly the little things that you didn’t even know you were avoiding: going to parties, staying out all night, cutting class for a day to drive out of town for no reason. Soonyoung is just all fun all the time.

He’s also just a really good friend, always kind and supportive. And honestly, you like the idea of Soonyoung being around for a long time.

“I thought you two were going to put it off? You know, just be friends?” Mingyu asks as you’re telling him how much you like Soonyoung.

“I mean yeah, but that was awhile ago,” you shrug, not looking up from your laptop.

“But you don’t want to rush it, what if you scare him off?”

Mingyu has always been able to get you to do anything he wants you to, and it’s starting to make you mad.

*******************************************************************************************

You start to wonder if Mingyu is just jealous that you haven’t been spending as much time with him. So, you decide to clear your schedule for some quality time.

And he’s... different.

Usually Mingyu is all teasing and sarcasm with you. Everything is comfortable, but still distant. It’s been that way for as long as you can remember.

But now, it’s different.

He talks so kindly to you. He does random things for you. Affection has become slightly more intimate.

You don’t really notice, thinking he’s just reached another level of comfort in your friendship. And honestly it’s nice. You feel even more at ease around him, if that was even possible.

“Gyu,” you say one day, when there’s a tiny voice in the back of your head is begging you to ask, “are we... ok?”

He nods, linking his arm with yours as the two of you walk towards your favorite coffee shop, “Of course we are, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know, you were... distant for awhile... and now...” you trail off.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was just going through some stuff, but I shouldn’t have just ignored you like that,” he leans over with his other arm and ruffles your hair.

You nod, comforted in the feeling of Mingyu next to you.

After that day, you go back to spending more time with Mingyu, realizing how much you missed him. And you realize something, you want Mingyu in your life for a long time, too. You can’t imagine life without him. He’s always been there, and you know he always will be.

*******************************************************************************************

Choi Seungcheol is throwing a giant party at his frat house before the winter break. And while you usually avoid going to frat parties, Dokyeom, Soonyoung, and Mingyu all berated you until you agreed to go.

You sigh as Mingyu drags you towards the car. He leaps into the back with Dokyeom and you sit up front with Soonyoung. You all jam out as you drive to the frat house. You’re feeling elated to just be spending time with your closest friends. The feeling immediately disappears when you reach the street the house is on. There’s like a million cars outside and the party looks insane.

The boys sense your hesitation, prompting Dokyeom and Soonyoung to hang their arms over your shoulder and drag you towards the house.

“Can’t we just have a movie marathon?” you groan.

“Relax, [Y/N],” Mingyu says, “we’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

You lose sight of them two minutes in.

You sigh angrily, being pushed around by excited people rushing by, hating the taste of your drink, feeling a headache coming on, and feeling way too sober for being at a frat party. It’s been too long since you’ve seen one of the boys and you’re starting to get restless.

You find Dokyeom first, but he’s in the corner flirting with someone you can’t quite see and you decide not to ruin his moment.

After moving on, and making your way through the house, you finally spot Soonyoung by himself on the couch. You happily plop down next to him, relieved to have found a friend.

“Hey [Y/L/N]!” Soonyoung exclaims. “How’s it going?”

“Not as good as you’re doing, you are wasted buddy,” you laugh.

Soonyoung laughs and nods his head, “I am!!!!” He rolls back and laughs, before rolling back up and frowning, “Why aren’t you???”

“I don’t know, I just don’t feel much like drinking tonight,” you shrug before smiling brightly at Soonyoung who is nodding along to your words like a tired toddler.

“Hey [Y/N],” Soonyoung says sitting up straight and looking into your eyes.

“What’s up, Soonie?”

“I really like you... I mean, I really like that you’re in my life.”

“I like you too, Soonyoung, I’m happy that you’re around.”

The world sort of pauses as you and Soonyoung stare into each other’s eyes. You can tell he’s leaning forward. You feel a lot of emotions, and before you’re able to figure out what they are, you start to lean forward too.

Before your lips meet, something lands in your lap. “Hey guys!” Mingyu yells as he sits in between you.

“It’s Mingyu!” Soonyoung exclaims, hugging him.

“Oh god, how drunk are both of you?” you sigh, feeling... disappointment? Relief, maybe?

“Hey [Y/N],” it’s Mingyu calling you this time. “I’m tireeeeed.”

“What do you want me to do about it, Gyu?” you pinch his nose for half a second.

“Take me home pleeeeeeeeeeease,” he whines.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but we drove here with other people who may not be ready to leave yet.”

“Take my car,” Soonyoung interjects.

“What?” you ask, caught off guard.

“Yeah, me and Dokyeom usually sleep over at Cheol’s parties anyways, and it seems like you two really want to go home. Just come get us in the morning?” You want to argue with Soonyoung, feeling guilty about leaving suddenly after...

“Yeah, I’ll come get you guys tomorrow,” you say softly, sharing a brief moment of eye contact with him before dragging Mingyu up off the couch. “You two stay safe and call me at anytime if anything happens.”

Soonyoung agrees before standing up to find Dokyeom. You drag your best friend towards the door as he points around wildly saying “To the dorm!’

Mingyu has always been able to get you to do whatever he wants you to, and that day, it makes you angry.

*******************************************************************************************

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?” you ask as Mingyu plops down on his couch.

“I’m too drunk for whatever you’re about to ask about,” Mingyu grumbles with his face in the cushions. Your rage flares.

“No, we’re talking about this now, because we’ve been putting it off for too long,” you stomp over to the couch. “What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?” his voice is strained.

“Did you interrupt me and Soonyoung on purpose?” you ask.

Mingyu doesn’t respond.

“Kim Mingyu! Answer me!”

“I told you to date for fun, not to find your soulmate,” he suddenly pipes up.

“Do you think I think Soonyoung is my soulmate? I just really like him, what’s so wrong with the idea of us being together?” you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“Stop yelling,” Mingyu whines, his hands flying up to cover his ears.

“No! Tell me what your problem is!” you say, feeling tears pricking your eyes.

Mingyu falls silent again.

“Just say it Mingyu,” you demand. “Tell me why you don’t want me to date Soonyoung.”

Mingyu says nothing.

“Fine, I’m leaving,” you say, grabbing your stuff and stomping towards the door. “Don’t bother calling me tomorrow.”

Your heart is heavy as you leave.

*******************************************************************************************

You drop Dokyeom off in front of the dorm the next morning, apologizing for not walking him up. He assures you it’s ok, sensing the tension coming from you when he asks if Mingyu got home ok.

“You wanna get breakfast?” Soonyoung asks as soon as Dokyeom is out the door. “I feel like we gotta talk.”

“Breakfast sounds great,” you say pulling away, ignoring the rest of what he said.

You two go to a little coffee shop down the street after Soonyoung admits that he could probably stomach a pastry better than a full meal. You laugh as Soonyoung tiredly cradles his coffee. You two eat and talk casually for a few minutes.

“So I guess we should address what I almost did last night,” Soonyoung says finally setting his coffee down.

“Right,” you agree, deciding to let Soonyoung take the lead on the conversation and go with the flow.

“It was a mistake. I was drunk and all over the place and I shouldn’t have done it,” Soonyoung says, bowing his head. “Honestly [Y/N], you’re a really great friend, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin what we have. I like where we’re at and I don’t see any reason for it to be anything else.”

“I agree,” you smile, still not fully sure of your emotions.

Thankfully, you have a friend like Soonyoung to straighten them out for you.

“If I’m being honest, [Y/N], the moment I saw you and Mingyu together for the first time, I kind of knew my chances of dating you were at a zero.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, your heartrate accelerating for some reason.

“It’s just... the way you two are around each other. You do everything for each other. You just... know each other. You really care about each other. You’re comfortable with each other. And the way you look at each other is just...”

Soonyoung pauses for a moment and stares at you, his bright as ever smile still plastered on his face.

“I just think that you two have something special, and you’re both afraid to admit it.”

You spend the rest of your breakfast with Soonyoung staring out the window and just watching the world outside.

*******************************************************************************************

You don’t talk to Mingyu for the rest of the semester. Every time you see him on campus you avoid him.

You can’t get what Soonyoung said out of your head, but you’re still just so pissed at Mingyu. Although, you’re not sure why. Was it how weird he got when you and Soonyoung first started hanging out? How he interrupted you two the night of the party? How he refused to be honest with you afterwards? A combination of everything?

You both go home for the break, and your heart cracks a little every time your mom asks why Mingyu hasn’t come over to hang out at all.

You realize at the end of the day, you just miss your best friend. You can work through the other stuff with him, but you can’t really live without him.

Almost as soon as you realize this, your phone dings.

Gyu: Let’s meet up at the park tomorrow, we need to talk

Mingyu is able to get you to do whatever he wants you to, and this time, it’s sort of a relief.

*******************************************************************************************

The park is covered in a light layer of snow, the yellow and orange leaves on the trees peaking through. You are bundled up, trying to ignore the freeze biting at your fingertips. You walk slowly around the perimeter of the park. You see Mingyu sitting on a bench from a mile away. You pause to just stare at him, bundled up in a puffy coat, staring up at the snowflakes coming down.

*******************************************************************************************

“C’mon [Y/N]! Aren’t you excited for the third grade?” Mingyu says as he balances on the bench to walk across the edge.

“Not since we had to move schools,” you grumble.

“It’ll be fun! We can make new friends!”

“You’ll make friends.”

“[Y/N], don’t be so negati-” Mingyu started before falling off the bench. You pause in surprise staring at your best friend on the ground. You jumped forward to lean next to him.

“Are you ok?” you asked gently.

Mingyu gulped before nodding, “Yeah it’s just my hands.” He lifted them up to show that they were all scraped up.

“C’mon, my house is closer, let’s get you cleaned up,” you said. Mingyu sniffled a little as you lead him towards your house. “You’re ok,” you insisted, “you’ve got me.”

*******************************************************************************************

“Mingyu are you sure we’re allowed to do this?” you asked, looking around nervously.

“What do you think someone’s gonna do if they catch us? Arrest us?” Mingyu said from underneath the bench where he was carving his initials into the wood. He slid out and stood up before grabbing your arm and pulling you down. “Your turn.”

You slid under the bench and stared at Mingyu’s initials. “You’re making sure no one’s walking by right?”

“Geez [Y/N], you’re the biggest scaredy-cat thirteen year old I’ve ever met, live a little!” Mingyu laughed.

You huff before beginning to carve your initials next to his.

*******************************************************************************************

“So what are you gonna do, huh? Run away?” Mingyu has his arm around you as you’re crying on the bench in the middle of the night.

“Maybe,” you say between sniffles.

“Do you realize how stupid you sound? Where are you going to go? C’mon [Y/N], we only have two years! Two more years before we graduate and we’re out of here! Then we’ll go to college and live it up!”

Mingyu takes his arm from around your shoulder to poke your side until you’re laughing.

“We’re gonna be ok as long as we’re together.”

*******************************************************************************************

You sigh happily at the memories before making your way over to him. You sit silently next to him, your fingers slipping under the wood to feel that your initials are still carved into the bench.

“I checked too,” Mingyu says breaking silence. You hum in acknowledgment. “I’m sorry [Y/N]. I got... jealous. You and Soonyoung seemed like you had something really... deep. And I didn’t realize how much that would affect me until I saw it happening. But I want you to be happy so-”

“Me and Soonyoung agreed to be friends,” you interject.

“Oh,” is all Mingyu says but you don’t miss how his tone lightens at the realization.

“You know Soonyoung seems to have this idea that we’re in love,” you say, pushing Mingyu’s shoulder with yours.

“Does he now,” Mingyu laughs into the chilly air, before there’s a moment of silence.

“I know whether he’s right or wrong about my feelings... but... what about you Gyu? How are you feeling right now?”

“I feel like when I saw how much you enjoyed hanging out with Soonyoung, I thought I was going to go insane. I feel like the day you were upset with me after the party was the worst day of my life. I feel like the days when I thought our friendship was over were the darkest period of time,” Mingyu says slowly before looking over to you. “And I feel like when I’m with you is when I’m at my happiest. I feel like when I look at you, everything makes sense. I feel like when I have you by my side, I can do anything.”

You grab his hand, hoping you are not once again going to end up crying on this bench.

“I feel like I love you [Y/N], and that I always will.”

Mingyu finally fully faces you after saying his piece.

“I love you too Mingyu, more than anything in this world.”

*******************************************************************************************

“Can you two stop being so gross,” Dokyeom groans as you and Mingyu giggle together on the couch. Mingyu responds by pulling you closer, and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You push him back, “Hey stop being such a jerk to your roommate, he knows where you live.”

“Yeah, see, at least [Y/N] is on my side!” Dokyeom exclaims.

“Wow betrayed by my own partner,” Mingyu says, but he’s got love in his eyes as he gazes at you. You smile before pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Ugh, gross, [Y/N], I thought you were on my side,” Dokyeom shakes his head.

“Sorry, that was it, I promise,” you laugh in response.

“Well I hope you two lovebirds are ready to be interrupted, me and Soonyoung are throwing a game night with all the boys,” Dokyeom says, turning back to his laptop.

“Hmmmm, sounds like you’re going to have to let me stay at your place tonight,” Mingyu grins.

“Is that so?” you smile back before sneaking a kiss to his lips while Dokyeom is looking away.

Mingyu is able to get you to do anything he wants you to, and these days, it’s hardly a bother.

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starrypawz · 3 years ago

Note

!!!! HANDS 🥺 33 aaaaand 37 for Gerry? 🙏♥️

Hand Holding Prompts

(Two fics for the price of one) Gerry and Nemo shennagins with a bonus 'If somehow Nemo met Gertrude' thrown in.

33. bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

Nemo’s hands are warmer than he’s expecting.

(Although he’s not sure why he’s expecting them to be cold).

Tries not to think about that too much, drums the fingers of his other hand against his thigh, tries to focus on a spot on the wall.

37. not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

There’s a cafe.

There’s nothing remarkable about it, it’s the sort of cafe that exists in every town and city across the United Kingdom. There might be slight variations on a theme but they feature white plastic topped tables that never seem to be totally free of lingering coffee stains, and have a chance of being slightly wonky, menus on laminated plastic offering staples of British cuisine, most of which come with a side of chips, chunky white mugs.

bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go

Nemo’s hands are warmer than he’s expecting.

(Although he’s not sure why he’s expecting them to be cold).

Tries not to think about that too much, drums the fingers of his other hand against his thigh, tries to focus on a spot on the wall.

Nemo’s gentle, gentler than he’s expecting (But he’s not sure why he’d expect different). Bites his lip at the (overly familiar) sting of antiseptic against skin, swallows down a swear and tries to keep his focus on that spot on the wall.

Nemo’s thumb gently brushes over pale skin, long fingers topped with chipped, black nail polish. They try not to think about how slender his hands are. How they seem intended for much more delicate things than the various marks scattered across his hands hint at. Feels a little sour twist in their stomach if they think too hard about the potential causes as they catch the edge of a faded scar on his palm. Worries their lip as they try to only focus on clearing the blood and grime from his knuckles.

(Tries not to think about how warm his hands are, how small theirs look in comparison to his, how in another life, hopefully a better one these hands would only know soft touches, and how in this one how much they want to be the one to let those hands know some softness)

Gerry blinks, eyes drift from that spot on the wall, closes his eyes for a second. Fatigue gnaws at him, the circles under his eyes (the ones under the smudgy black eyeliner that he’s forgotten when exactly it went on but he knows is overdue for removal) will be even darker come tomorrow. He tries to focus back on the wall but fails, eyes drifting towards something more interesting.

Which means he’s now looking at Nemo, paying way too much attention to how they catch their lip and the concerned furrow of their brow as they work on his injured hand. And he starts getting stupid, sleepy thoughts involving his other hand (which is desperate for something to occupy itself) reaching out and tucking the lock of black, curly hair that’s fallen in front of their face behind their ear, let his fingertips just brush the shell of their ear, wonder for a brief, dumb moment just what would happen if they let their fingers brush the spot just under their ear, wonders if Nemo would tilt their head and let him continue his way down their neck, would they squirm if he reached the juncture between neck and shoulder?

“Looks worse than it is,” Nemo’s voice cuts through the late night silence between them just as his thoughts are wondering silly, sleepy things about how the buzzed side of their hair would feel under his fingertips but he barely registers it. He does register the reassuring, gentle squeeze that follows.

He settles for gripping the edge of the table for now. Watches as Nemo opens up an adhesive dressing and places it over his hand, tries not to think too much about the press of their thumbs as they ensure it stays in place. Thinks instead about the small mercy of them finding a Boots with a Midnight Pharmacy where the sudden appearance of two slightly battered Goths at an ungodly hour didn’t raise any eyebrows. And more importantly didn’t lead to any concerned calls towards police, ambulances or any number of other organisations that would’ve been overly concerned and asked too many questions.

He loses the touch of Nemo’s hands for a brief moment and it affects him more than he cares to admit. Watches as they carefully unwind the roll of gauze and then despite his best efforts feels himself jump as their thumb presses that sensitive, meaty part of his palm just next to his thumb.

Nemo stops suddenly, doesn’t let go, eyebrows raised in silent concern and he gives a nod of reassurance and tries not to start thinking stupid thoughts about stormy grey eyes as they get back to wrapping his hand. Nemo gently manipulating his wrist to get into the correct position.

“All done,” Nemo’s voice barely registering again.

Gerry looks down at his bandaged hand, turns it this way and that. By this point he’s far too familiar with how professional wound care looks.

“You’re… good at this,” Gerry breaks the silence, just barely. As if there’s some holiness associated with this shade of silence that comes with being awake at an ungodly hour and to interrupt it is blasphemy.

Nemo’s still holding his hand, thumbs barely brushing a chipped, black nail polish covered nail, looks up and those stormy grey eyes meet his pale blue.

Nemo clears their throat, looks at him and then away briefly as if embarrassed before looking back.

“I… there was a point I wanted to be a nurse-”

not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

There’s a cafe.

Sort of place that typically attracts ‘salt of the earth’ labourer types, school kids playing it loose with what time they actually arrive at school, overly nosy gaggles of ‘bubbly’ women, young mothers with prams catching up with other mothers. Sort of place run by a solid, sensible sort of person, broad smiling and prone to calling people ‘Love’.

And the ever present scent of fried food that depending on circumstances is either enticing or nauseating. And as Gerry realises today unfortunately it’s leaning more towards the nauseating. (Seems he’s not quite shaken that last brush with The Corruption)

Utterly unremarkable, which probably makes the presence of an elderly British woman and two Goths stand out like a sore thumb.

He does wonder what people see if they look over at the table, he’s had enough moments where people have assumed Gertrude his is mother and even a few times assumed grandmother (Which Gertrude seems less impressed by when that happens) and even a few where the pair of them have played into that assumption.

Do they see a prim and proper British mother with her Goth son and what he knows people will assume is partner? Maybe if this was a more upmarket cafe people would wonder if it was a meeting between a University Professor and two of their postgraduate students.

Either way, in a fairly unremarkable cafe sits an elderly British woman and two goths with two cups of tea (Gertrude’s a step or two down from builder’s tea with one sugar, Nemo’s an altogether milkier and sweeter affair and Gerry’s a coffee, black as humanely possible).

Gerry takes a sip of his coffee, prays it will do something for the nausea.

On the surface, the meeting has been polite enough. Gertrude hasn’t come over as across as anything other than a polite well to do academic and Nemo has been ‘polite but closed off’. But Gerry is far too used to reading situations for potential conflict and can pick up on the tension that’s not unlike two unfamiliar cats meeting in an alley who are deciding if they’re going to fight.

And it’s making his already grumbling stomach complain even more.

He takes another sip of coffee, a little too much in one go, too warm, too bitter all at once and manages not to splutter as he swallows it down.

He’s suddenly aware of that creeping ‘eyes on the back of his neck’ sensation that has Gertrude’s own particular signature to it. Not so much ‘overly nosy gossip’ like the group of women clustered around a table in the corner who are talking and downright cackling way too loudly for this time in the morning. It’s more in the vein of ‘stern schoolteacher who just caught you passing notes in the back of the class’ (not that he really knows what that feels like).

He doesn’t say anything but looks up from his coffee, Gertrude is writing some notes, looks up for a moment and Gerry meets her eyes with a look that with a dose of adolescent petulance he’s far too old for says an indignant ‘What?’

Gertrude says nothing but her expression changes to a slightly too smug knowing smile. One that somehow comes across a little too soft, even maternal.

And that’s when Gerry realises Nemo’s hand has sought his out under the table, he can feel the brush of fishnet gloves against his palms, lithe fingers wound carefully with his. He can also feel the tension that’s running from Nemo’s shoulder and pressing against his hand as they squeeze. Any harder and he’s sure Nemo will start vibrating.

Shit

He tries to relax, allows his thoughts to unwind a little, tries to channel his own tension down through his body and through his toes into the floor and it almost works. He feels Nemo’s tension lessen a little and breathes a silent sigh of relief.

He maintains eye contact with Gertrude the whole time, it’s only a brief few seconds but it feels like an age. He can’t quite read her expression, amusement? It seems like she’s vaguely amused. Approval? No he wouldn’t go that far.

Fuck…

Oh Fuck

She thinks… oh shit no she thinks this is adorable

Fuuuuuck

He realises Nemo’s wrapped their foot around the back of his calf, more grounding, For them? For Him? Both he’s not sure. Either way it does lessen the sensation of wanting to sink through the cafe floor.

Despite his best efforts his cheeks flush red. Gives Nemo’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Gertrude breaks their eye contact going back to asking Nemo another question seemingly innocent to any curious bystander but actually hinting at something much deeper.

#tma #the magnus archives #gerard keay #gerry keay #gertrude robinson #tma nemo

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