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allnewalldifferentwildspider · 4 years ago

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Zuko & Katara's Relationship Dynamic

This is like the third or fourth time I've tried to write up this post so please bare with me.

Oh wow. That video. Hopefully everyone has seen it now. Not only did it articulate arguments I've been making for years, but it also brought up ideas I had never thought of or noticed before. Watching that and watching the second half of Book 3 again (because it's my favorite) made me want to redo my zutara dynamic post.

I'm going to be using the tiny bits and pieces the show gave us to see how Zuko and Katara's relationship looks and how it would look if they gave us more because...Bryke really fucking hated zutara. I mean, I guess they did.

Katara is compassionate; Zuko is empathetic

A lot of anti-zutara arguments have said that Zuko and Katara could never be together because they would constantly fight and hate each other and it end sooner than later. Not only does this actually describe maiko, but that argument would need to ignore the characters' actual character.

One of Katara's biggest character traits is how compassionate she is. She has a drive to help others and ease their pain. Whether it's getting Aang out of the iceberg or healing a Fire Nation fishing village, Katara will go out of her way to help someone in need.

Katara: No. I will never ever turn my back on people who need me.

Zuko is very emotional and passionate person. As much as he tried to hide it to appease his father, Zuko does want to open up and connect with people. Unfortunately, aside from his uncle, most of the other people he knows are like Zhao and Azula. Not the most understanding of crowds. But because of this he can pick up what people are really thinking and feeling. Think of it as a defense mechanism he developed growing up around people like Azula.

Get these two kinds of people together and you get the crystal catacombs scene. Katara lashes out at Zuko until she breaks down. When she does Zuko opens up with empathy since they have something in common. This creates the beginning of an understanding between the two. Zuko uses that to finally open up to someone who isn't his uncle and Katara listens and reaches out to help. Contrast to the first episode of Book 3 when Zuko tries to voice his thoughts and concerns to Mai and she...doesn't really care.

Something similar happens during The Southern Raiders. Zuko figures out that Katara is taking out her anger of being separated from her father by The Fire Nation onto him and even connecting her mother's death to him.

It's not the first time Zuko has done this either. He easily figured out that Sokka was planning on going to The Boiling Rock. He does it again during Sozin's Comet when he tells Katara that Aang needs to figure out what to do about Ozai by himself.

There's a noticeable pattern of behavior by the time Sozin's Comet arrives. Zuko voices his concerns about meeting his uncle again and Katara is right there to help him through it.

Zuko's empathy combined with Katara's compassion creates almost a cycle of understanding and emotional vulnerability that the two can't really get with anyone else. One notices the other having concerns or problems and goes to give comfort by words or by actions.

Zuko still has a temper but so does Katara

Even after Zuko's fever dream character change thing, even after The Day of Black Sun, he still has it in him to yell at anyone who commits even the slightest transgressions against him:

Aang: That one felt kinda hot. Zuko: Don't patronize me. You know what it's supposed to look like. Aang: Sorry, sifu hotman. Zuko: And stop calling me that!

Sokka: So all we have to do is make Zuko angry. Easy enough. *pokes him with his sword* *annoying laugh* Zuko: All right! Cut it out!

Maybe it's the firebender in him or maybe he really is just like that. Basically if you annoy him, he'll let you know. What people sometimes overlook is that while it takes Katara a bit longer, she also gets worked up when people upset her.

Toph: What's the matter? Can't handle some dirt, Madame Fussy Britches? Katara: Oh, sorry, did I splash you, mud slug?

And remember, it was Katara getting angry at Sokka that even broke the iceberg that revealed Aang.

Katara: Ugh, I'm embarrassed to be related to you! Ever since Mom died I've been doing all the work around camp while you've been off playing soldier! Sokka: Uh... Katara? Katara: I even wash all the clothes! Have you ever smelled your dirty socks? Let me tell you, NOT PLEASANT! Sokka: Katara! Settle down! Katara: No, that's it. I'm done helping you. From now on, you're on your own!

The point is that it is both Zuko and Katara that are very passionate and emotional people. One of them isn't emotionally dominating the other because they both wear their emotions on their sleeves.

This also comes in to play when they set goals for themselves. When Zuko sets a goal, he puts everything into it. Katara is the same way. The difference is that Zuko's drive sometimes gives him a one-track mind while Katara is more flexible. Like for example Zuko being so focused on finding Aang before Sozin's Comet that he ignores Toph's story about her childhood versus Katara wanting to go to the North Pole but taking time to stop and help whoever they come across.

This passion also fuels their values and how strongly they stand by their beliefs. I already put The Painted Lady quote up above but Zuko's morality is what is making him so angry at himself during The Beach. He knows what he did was wrong, but he couldn't face it yet.

Sometimes their emotions get the better of them, but it's only because they are passionate about what they're doing.

Their natural teamwork is amazing

I can't provide a lot of clues in this bit because it's more of a visual thing. Just consider how flawlessly their plans worked during their attack on The Southern Raiders. Especially when you consider that it was a stealth mission so they barely even said anything to each other during and it still went incredibly well.

You could see it again during their mock battle with The Melon Lord. Sokka must have noticed because he paired them together to deliver some "liquidy-hot offence." And they pulled it off, again, without having to say anything.

They've only been a team for a few weeks(?), days(?) but they act as if they've been doing it for years.

They trust each other's judgment

Piggybacking of the previous point, Zuko and Katara have only been a team for a while but there seems to be a level of understanding in terms of judgement. They both know that whatever the other chooses is going to be a well-thought out decision. Maybe it's because they see each other as the mature members of the group even though Sokka is the same age as Zuko? I don't know.

Aang disappears right before they embark on their fight against the Fire Lord, and out of nowhere, Katara puts Zuko in charge.

Zuko: Get out of the bison's mouth, Sokka. We have a real problem here. Aang is nowhere to be found and the comet is only two days away. Katara: What should we do Zuko? Zuko: I don't know. Why are you all looking at me? Katara: Well, you are kind of the expert on tracking Aang.

and that wasn't the first time in that episode that she went along with one of Zuko's decisions

Katara: Aang, don't walk away from this. *She begins to walk towards him as a hand touches her shoulder to stop her from doing so.* Zuko: Let him go. He needs time to sort it out by himself.

As a lot of people have pointed out during the entirety of The Southern Raiders, Zuko never gives a suggestion on what he thinks Katara should do. Aside from making it a stealth mission, he follows her lead the entire way.

Katara teases Zuko (and he lets her)

The fun one. This one has two parts: pre and post The Southern Raiders.

Before The Southern Raiders, Katara was tolerating Zuko. She was still angry with him about the betrayal at Ba Sing Se. Getting little jabs at him was the only thing that was really helping her from loosing her cool around him.

Katara: I'm sorry. I'm just laughing at the irony. You know... how it would have been nice for us if you lost your firebending a long time ago? Zuko: Well it's not lost. It's just weaker for some reason. Katara: Maybe you're just not as good as you think you are. Toph: Ouch.

He just finished yelling at Aang and Sokka but all he does is glare at Katara. She does it again, but to be fair, he kind of set himself up for it.

Zuko: It's a sacred form that happens to be thousands of years old! Katara: Oh yeah? What's your little form called? Zuko: ...The Dancing Dragon.

Then comes post The Southern Raiders and...yeah, she's still picking on him and he still lets her. Granted it's a lot more playful this time around.

Zuko: They make me totally stiff and humorless. Katara: Actually, I think that actor's pretty spot on. Zuko: How could you say that? Actor Uncle: Let's forget about the Avatar and get massages. Actor Zuko: How could you say that?! (Cut back to Katara wearing a satisfied grin on her face and she looks to an expressionless Zuko as he slouches in his seat.)

I love pointing it out every time. She teases him and he does nothing about it.

Katara: Er, no. I was looking for cooking pots in the attic and I found this. Look at baby Zuko! Isn't he cute? Oh lighten up, I was just teasing.

And she admits it!

So what can we take away from this? From what little time they were given together (thanks, Bryke) it seems that Zuko and Katara really understand each other on an intimate emotional level. They can sense when the other is distressed and offer comfort. They're both passionate in and out of combat, for better or for worse. They're comfortable with each other as if they've known each other for years even though it's such a short time. Katara also likes to add a little bit of playfulness in there with Zuko letting her have her fun, again, showing how comfortable they are with each other.

I do think their relationship could have gone to romantic sooner than later if you would have given it a bit more time. Like first half of a hypothetical Book 4.

To me, at least.

#zutara #zuko #katara #anti kataang #anti bryke

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sunnyville36 · 3 years ago

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First star I see tonight

Requested from anon

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Themes/warnings: **allusions to trouble sleeping, insomnia**, late night/early morning dates, Chan being a soft and tender boy™️, so much fluff like a LOT of fluffiness

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: This is not meant to be used as a model of behavior to support all those who have trouble sleeping or sleep disorders. Reader in this scenario knows what Chan's character deals with, knows he has treatment and support systems available if/when he needs or wants them, and behaves the way they do at the request of his character

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There’s something special about that time of night, where one day turns into another. You read somewhere once that people like you found comfort in it because it was the one time where everyone else was asleep, where you were free from the demands of others. The part of the day you had control over. And you suppose that theory was right in your case.

So you never have a problem waiting up for Chan. You know he loses himself in his work; comes home sometimes too restless to fall asleep right away. While you care deeply about him getting the proper rest, you never want to make him feel pressured by you. So the two of you venture out, him in his hoodie and you in your woolen cardigan, usually to walk the paths along the Han river.

That’s exactly where you are tonight, following the path lit up by the light of the lamp posts. When it’s this late (or should you say early) you never feel rushed, meandering arm in arm slowly down the sidewalk, taking in the city and each other’s presence. His busy schedule means you don’t get a ton of time together, so you appreciate every moment you do, whether it’s listening to him gush about his latest project or simply holding hands in peaceful silence.

You come upon a fork in the path, and the grassy spot between the two diverging trails is covered in tiny bunches of white and yellow flowers. Some might call them weeds, but you’ve always thought they were a sign of nature’s beauty, especially now, when the light from the lamp post is giving them a delicate glow. Your companion follows your gaze, catching sight of the little buds, and plucks a couple from the ground, holding them out to you. “Just like you,” he says, dramatically bringing the other hand to his heart, eyes glinting with mirth, “the light in my darkest of nights.”

“Channn,” you fake whine, blushing at his cheesiness and hiding your head in his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to put the little flowers behind your ear, placing a kiss on your temple and whispering a simple “Thank you for being with me.”

---

It’s 1 AM and you’re heading over to Chan, planning to surprise him with some homemade food at the JYP building where he’s been holed up all day. Making your way past the front desk and up to his studio, you knock lightly on the door, his head turning to see you raise your loosely packed bag of food.

“Up for a late-night snack?”

Down in the courtyard, you set out what you brought on one of the round patio tables, Chan sliding into the chair next to you with a blanket draped around him.

“Jjapaguri?!” he exclaims, eyes lighting up at the sight of your huge container of noodles.

“And mochi for dessert,” you answer, incapable of stopping the smile that takes over your face from his little fist shakes of excitement.

He scarfs up the noodles like you knew he would, raving about how good you’ve gotten at making them. You tell him about the class you’ve been working on all day, about how you’re excited for the date the two of you have been planning for the weekend. When it’s time for dessert, you each take your little mochi and hold them up, bringing them together to “toast” like you would champagne glasses. In his other hand, Chan records your tradition on his phone like he always does, saving the short looping video before taking a huge bite into his ice cream.

His mouth is still full when you whisper, “You know what Bin would say about this?” And after a moment of silence for him to swallow…

“You’ll get a stomach ulcer!” you declare in unison, both cackling at your rather poor impressions of Stray Kids’ resident wisdom-giver.

“I’d say these are worth it,” he says, extending the blanket to wrap around you as well.

You smile back, scooching closer to rest your head on his shoulder. “I would too.”

---

It’s especially late for Chan to be out, but the boys have the next few days off, so you’re not too worried. A few minutes later, you hear the sound of the door opening and his voice calling your name.

“In here!” you reply, and wait for your boyfriend to find you in the living room.

He comes around the corner of the hallway, and you’re immediately struck by how nice he looks, his loose white button up giving his skin a pretty glow.

“What’s the special occasion?” you ask.

“Oh nothing,” he replies nonchalantly. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

He leads you out into the hallway and to the elevator, punching in the button for the top floor of the dorm. You keep quiet, not wanting to ruin whatever surprise it is he has in store for you. At the top level, he takes you to another tiny staircase that you assume leads to the roof, his hands coming up behind you to cover your eyes as you reach the door at the top.

“Okay, no peeking!”

He guides you out the door into the warm night air and across the roof a little before removing his hands with a “Surprise!”

You open your eyes to see a tiny two-person table adorned with candles and a thin-stemmed vase with flowers. Two plates of food and a bottle of wine are set out, and soft music is playing from somewhere in the background.

“Chris…” you breathe out, almost lost for words.

“I got special permission to bring you up here,” he says, arms snaking around your waist. “So we could have a real late-night date.”

This is the most extravagant, thoughtful, and romantic gesture anyone has ever done for you. “It’s beautiful,” you manage to whisper as he walks you to the table, pulling your chair out for you.

“After you, my love.”

The two of you spend the next few hours on your special date, catching up on everything you’ve been doing and enjoying the serene quiet of the city at this hour. The food is delicious, and you can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off your boyfriend for any longer than a few seconds, absolutely wonderstruck by how lucky you are to be with him.

You’re preparing to head back downstairs when Chan moves his chair closer to you, holding out his phone. “I have a little something for you, Y/n.” He places the phone in your hands and taps the screen, your heart beating in anticipation.

What appears is a video, a montage of photos and videos of the two of you from all of your early morning adventures over the last year. The images are set to a soft instrumental, one that sounds very similar to one he played for you the other night that you mentioned was one of your favorites. And overlaid with the music is Chan’s melodic voice, quietly reciting...

Star light, star bright

First star I see tonight

I wish I may, I wish I might

Have this wish I wish tonight

Some of the pictures you recognize; the obligatory thumbs up selfie you’d taken with the similarly-formed sculpture in Olympic Park just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, the mochi “toast” from your impromptu meal a few weeks ago. But many are ones you’ve never seen before; ones of you. One of you looking out at the sunrise from a grassy spot you stargazed in one night; one of you walking along the river, your form framed against the backdrop of the city lights. You never noticed him taking these photos of you, and there’s something so intimate about having your partner catch glimpses of you no one else has seen, capturing you as a living memory.

As the video comes to a close, you hear Chan’s voice whisper one last line.

You are my wish forever Y/n

Near tears, you wrap him in the tightest embrace you possibly can, his arms circling around you to reciprocate. You’re overwhelmed by the emotion of what it feels like to love a man like him and be loved in return, so you let him hold you for a long while, cherishing every second. When you finally pull back, you take his face in your hands, wanting to make sure he hears what you’re about to say.

“Thank you, Chris. You are my forever wish.”

---

Is there really a thumb sculpture in Seoul's Olympic Park? Yes!

As always, happy to hear your thoughts, and thank you for reading!

#stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz imagines #skz fluff

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

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Only Time Makes It Human

Hi, hello I was so excited to write this story you don't understand! I hope you all like it, I'm open to suggestions for part two or even part three hehe, I just like this concept a lot, lol i even made a Spotify playlist to listen to while writing. And I dont do that very often.

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Summary: he shouldn't have let Hange drag him to that frat party with Petra as his date, not when she knew you'd be there with someone else.

Tags: college au!, Angst, eventual fluff, slightly nsfw

Warnings: mentions of smoking, cheating, drinking and of you squint hard enough there's some nsfw, literally it's a frat party, you know how college students are

Disclaimer: drink responsibility if you are of drinking age, don't smoke, absolutely don't drive while being drunk, also I don't own the characters, but you already know that.

The deafening sound of pop music abused Levi's ears to the point his head was pulsing. His drink, a ratty cheep lager that was disturbingly common in such parties, stood in a red plastic cup in his hand, not even halfway drank. It was the watery taste he despised; when he wasn't much of an alcohol drinker, he was adamant about bitter tastes in beverages, a preference he hadn't managed to fight in his whole life time.

He shot an ominous glance at Hange and Petra. Stood right in front him, swaying their hips and smiling at each other as they shipped from their makeshift cocktails, they were more than surprised whatever they had dumped on their cups was consumable.

Petra in particular, beamed everytime she looked his way, auburn locks of her grazing the sides of her kind face as she swayed closer to him. The way his eyes never landed on her until it was necessary guilted him more than he wanted to admit. Mainly because Hange had set them up, and also because he shouldn't have been frying his brain with thoughts of someone else when he was with her.

But sometimes he couldn't help himself.

In an attempt to shut his brain down from making generously misery thoughts, he locked his hand around Petra's waist, sipping ever so slightly off his beer in the meantime. He didn't miss the way she lowered her head to smile, the sheer maroon tint on her cheeks. She fidgeted her fingers around her drink, shooting happy stares to Hange, Erwin and Mike as she went to rest get head on Levis shoulder.

Hange softly smiled back, curling her lips on an upward curve then brushing of three long to stare at the couple with ogling eyes. She focused on the conversation Mike and Erwin were having, as if it was something important enough to get lost into.

"I'm just wondering where Nanaba is, she said I'd find her here." Mike spoke with a puzzled voice, bobbing his head around to scout for the familiar blotch of short blonde hair that acostumed the face of his long term lover.

"Ah, she's with (y/n), silly. They're probably somewhere around if you want to say hi." Hange beamed.

Levi's eyes went wide and his hands numb at the sound of your name; he couldn't believe the plastic cup hadn't slipped off his palm. It had been so long since Hange had mentioned you so casually in a shared conversation, at least before him that is. It was more than natural to assume his friends hadn't cut ties with you, in contrast to his previous belief.

It was unlikely they were working against him on this situation, but his mind couldn't stop from running in possible imageries between them and you. Were they going to that cafe near campus with you when he denied their invitation? Did they spent some nights at your new place, drinking and driving you on watching horror parodies, when you despised it?

He shook his head trying to brush bubbling thoughts of you away from his mind. With a quick look at Petra, he decided to gulp down the warmed up lager, in hopes of finding relief in a stronger refill.

He despised the way beer didn't spritz on his tongue in it's warm state, but he refused to cringe at the aftertaste. Meanwhile, on his left, Petra enthusiastically bobbed her weight between her legs at the sound of another well known song. He didn't bother to comply to her moves, his eyes averted bitterly to the emptiness of his cup, yet he couldn't eagerly decide to step out of the comfort of his position.

Strolling around meant that he could come across you and he wasn't sure whether he wanted that or not.

Yet, Hange was adamant about dragging him, through the crowd to the kitchen counter, seeing his need for a refill as an excuse to get a new drink to mix to her cocktail.

Familiar faces fleet the kitchen, strolling around with numerous cups in their hands, heading to all directions. Levi pinched his nose in annoyance; the stench of sweat and smoke numbed his nostrils making him snicker, disgust masking the look on his face.

Setting his goal as to find a closed bottle of whiskey, his hands managed to work fast to their task. Upon discovering a single bottle that was still intact he twist the cap open, skillfully bringing the rim of his cap underneath the bottle's opening. Copper liquid poured in gushes in the red plastic, filling it to its maximum capacity.

The bigger the drink, the more chances he had to get a little drunk, maybe forget about you in the process.

"Are you thinking about her, shorty?"

Hange's voice rang in his blank head for several seconds fighting to elicit an answer out of him. He fought back, merely for a moment. If he knew Hange she would have kept pressuring him to answer her question on front of every one else for the rest of the night. He was trying to fix his mood with at least some alcohol, so he wouldn't let Hange ruin it.

He hesitated to speak loud enough for his voice to reach her eardrums. Admitting to his pain made it real, and he hated still being sentimental when it came to you. At least Hange would keep her mouth shut if she got her rightful answer.

"Well I do, I suppose." He muttered below his breath, gray eyes never averting to her direction.

Hange curious expression immediately transformed into one of pure mischievous excitement that, he had to admit, was pretty unsettling. He knew that look on his friend's face, he couldn't fight it even if he wanted to so naturally he wished he had bit back on his answer. Nevertheless, what was done was done.

"It sucks doesn't it?" Hange spoke, pointer finger stretching to fox her glasses.

"It makes me feel lonely."

"Well don't make your self suffer, shorty." Hange's eyes softened as she threw a playful punch on his bicept, her drink long forgotten on the counter. "You could try to be friends with her."

"It's not that I want to suffer, it keeps me going sometimes. And no, I don't want to."

With squinted eyes and a disappointed gaze Hange shook her head at him and grabbed her drink from the wooden counter. Her mouth formed in a disapproving smirk causing her cheeks to squint and scrunch in an almost too comical manner. Levi knew he should have paid, absolutely, no mind on stressing over it; whether she was right or wrong she wasn't in a place to judge him for any of his choices, especially on the ones on his romantic life. And even more executionally, on ones she had helped him make by setting him up with Petra.

Not that he had anything against Petra.

He actually enjoyed her company. The cute little remarks she'd make for him, the way she cared for anything he did or the way her eyes would ogle at him as if he was a god. She could keep her space clean and she was kind to everyone in the sweetest manner. On top of that she had a girl next door type of beauty, auburn hair parted messily according to any occasion and round hazel eyes. All in all Hange had been right to point out she looked good on him.

Tonight, Petra was shining in her favorite pastel layers. A soft strawberry lilac turtleneck with flared sleeves as a base, topped with a powder blue strappy dress and finally completed with velvet baby pink Vans. Cute sparkly pins were accessorising her hair and numerous necklaces with moon and star charms shone on her neck. The effort she had put to perfect her aesthetic had indeed paid off; she looked like a fairy under the erratic lights of the party. She had achieved her initial goal to stand out from the occasional soft girls around the crowd, signifying she was Levi's girl.

With Levi's popularity amongst ladies, she had to be effortlessly perfect.

And she was, for as long as she was concerned.

Levi shot his eyes to his friends' direction, catching quickly glimpses of the way Petra danced with Hange. Erwin and Mike were nowhere to be found for now, as he assumed they would be searching for Nanaba.

He cringed at the chaotic arrangement of things; Nanaba had distanced her self from the group because she was your childhood friend so her relationship with Mike naturally came second to not forcing you into the same group as Levi. As if Levi wanted to be forced to be in the same group as you.

Fortunately, you had plenty of friends as to not to stick onto his group.

He was gulping a mouthful of his drink, copper whiskey watering down his dry throat as if he hasn't drunk anything in hours, when his eyes met yours in the crowd. His heart immediately skipped a long beat, chest heavying at the sight of your flushed face.

Maybe, on second thought, you hadn't actually noticed him.

You stood outside of the massive glass window proudly downing the shot in your hand after cheering on it with Eren. There was joy written on your makeup accessoried face; with your eyes squinted and your smile spread to your face asour hips moved according to the music engulfed in Eren's palms. Your hair swayed with each one of your movements, (h/c) locks landed messily on your face and shoulders mirroring Eren's to perfection. Levi couldn't help but notice how Eren's man bun was coming undone on the erratic movements his made.

As you slightly squated, attempting to perk your buttocks in the air for your partner to grab, your baggy jeans tightened their hug on your body in perfection. Levi remembered having seeing you in those baggy cargo jeans from afar on a few occasions, always thinking how good they looked on you, always admiring how you could always lull off your desired aesthetic effortlessly.

It was true that had he not seen you flawnting your effortless dark urban style, he would have thought that Petra had been the only girl who could show anyone how dressing aesthetically could be achieved. But you were something different. They way your breasts sat firmly at the bustier bits of your spaghetti strapped top, adorned by the corset like nature of the torso tube looked magnificent paired to your jeans. Your jet black Dr Marten's boots peaked from the flared finish of your jeans, giving the look a 90s grungy edge along with your all natural -be it for your dark maroon lip color.

Looking around, amongst numerous art majors like you he couldn't find someone who could mimick the way you pulled it off.

There fore, on a way he didn't blame Eren's hands as they traveled down your curves and touched tenderly at your torso. Even if the motion pulled any string in his heart that wasn't numbed by his alcoholic beverage.

He loathed you looked so good, and he loathed the way you danced to the loud tune as if no one was around.

With another big gulp on his whiskey, he felt the world slowing down around him.

As your eyes finally met -this time it wasn't just him imagining things- the tune changed, mocking him for gawking at you while taking your side against him. He noticed you mouth the lyrics to him, your head turned to his direction as his eyes struggled to rip away from your form.

Your moves on Eren became more intimate, more suggestive as you scratched the nape of his neck, bringing your mouth close to his ear to whisper words Levi couldn't have known of. Quickly, Eren pulled away with a pouty smile, displeased that he had to pull away from you. It was in that second that Levi's chest tightened dangerously, as Eren's lips brushed chastely on yours, noses bumping on eachother.

In an attempt to shook the image out of his head he turned on his heels, cup squeezed in hand and stomach growling in anxiety as he marched to his group of friends. Smiling faces welcomed him but he paid no mind in reciprocating the slightest glance. Levi wasn't exactly the type to bounce back immediately after having experienced his heart sinking in such horrid way.

Unsurprisingly for him -seeing that he was used to things only going downhill after a shitty event- Mike appeared out of the blue with Nanaba linked on him through their elbows. It wasn't in fact Nanaba that shattered any remain of his, already ruined, mood, but the person that clung into her palm.

More specifically, you.

"Heyy!!" Hange screamed, hands stretching towards your direction, already pulling you in her embrace once you reached her velocity. "I have missed you so much, where have you been these days!"

"Hange we went out for launch yesterday." You giggled through your squished cheek.

"Noo, that was ages ago I miss you everyday."

You shot a judgemental look at Erwin from Hange's back as she began to pull back from your embrace. The lisps and slips of her tongue were starting to become prominent as she poured words before you in an excessively fast paced manner, leaving you unable to come up with a way to respond to her, let alone understand what she had been saying.

Erwin scratched the back of his head an but his lip in response, shoulders rising up in an unbeknownst manner.

"You shouldn't let her drink that much. You know how she gets." You scolded, looking around the faces of your friends, trying your best not to let your faint voice get overlapped by the loud reggaeton beat.

Once again as Levi's eyes locked gazes with yours your breath hitched inside your chest.

His hand strode out to Petra's waist, pulling her closer almost too automatically for anyone not to notice. The commotion caught your eye, but you never flinched, much to your demise. Petra's hair swayed to the right as her smile widened from the sudden affectionate gesture, making you sick to the stomach from how soft and fragile and enchanting she had managed to look.

"Anyways I just came to say hi, I'll go find Eren now-"

Your words were cut short as your aforementioned significant other showed up bouncing in excitement beside you. Mirroring Levi's actions he pulled you close in a swift movement before ensuring he gave soft smiles to everyone. Hange excitedly greeted him back as Nanaba and Mike caught him up in casual conversation.

Levi watched as the brunette whipped his head whenever he flawnted on his achievements, causing Nanaba to shoot him awkward smiles and Mike to shrug him off in the process. You could see the despair in their faces as Eren egoistically carried on the conversation, but you tried to shrug it off for the moment as you conversed with Erwin.

Your mind wouldn't stop ordering your eyes to attach themselves into the picture perfect couple ahead of you, who paid no mind to your mere existence. In a way you blamed yourself for having caused this. Had you uttered a single hello to them you wouldn't have received such treatment. It served you right for knowingly intruding their space with the intention to make your presence known to Levi.

If you knew if the way Levi's eyes fell onto you everytime you looked away, you wouldn't have had yanked Eren's hand in an attempt to gain his attention.

"Ah sweetheart, I'm sorry, Yeagerbombs with your Yeager boy?" Eren blinked his emerald eyes into yours, pride splattered in his smile for his -cringeworthy to anyone else but himself- pun. You couldn't help but let out a nervous snicker of a laugh as he yanked you close to him again, pleading eyes landing into Levi's stormy gaze.

For you, the world seemed to stop in the moment as you took in his dimly lit face and delicate features. The music fell deaf to your ears as you gawked at him, hands trembling and tongue tied in words that you failed to recognize.

That mellow melancholy in his eyes, the adorning eyebags, the way some short coarse hairs on his face tried to mimick his neatly kept undercut, it all seemed unreal to you.

How long had it been since you had been so close to him? Nowadays it seemed the two of you had moved on to whatever. You had tried so much to avoid eachother that your timing never allowed the two of you to meet, not even for a the slightest, in hopes of forgetting about each others existence.

What downed you, though, from your precious pink cherry blossom rainfall bubble was that Petra was wrapped lovingly around him, her aesthetically pleasing image fitting conveniently with your little fairytale background, throwing you out of it.

By faintly excusing yourself from the group you let yourself lose on Eren's grip as he slipped you away from the crowd and towards the kitchen.

Levi didn't want to have to take a trip to the bathroom of a sorority house. In thought it seemed disgusting and unsanitary, but he had so much to drink that his body had been begging and screaming to him for some sort of relief.

He assumed the upstairs bathroom would be clean, supposing there weren't any horny young adults crushing their reproductive organs against eachother as there would normally be at any party of this nature.

With a steady knock that elicited no answer or even a simple grunt from the other side of the door he knew he was good to go. With a movement of his wrist the handle twisted and he slowly let himself in, eager to get through the process as fast as possible.

A few moments later and the fly of his distressed jeans was being zipped up again, tucked neatly under his black crewneck's bottom. He scrunched his sleeves up above his elbows and run his hand under the sink, waiting for the water to warm up.

His face looked tainted in the mirror; puffy eyebags and a deadpan expression while his lips stayed chapped. In an attempt to look presentable he run his now excessively washed hands through his front bangs tagging slightly to form a little volume at the roots.

He hadn't expected to swoon so easily at the sight of you being playfully entangled with Eren. He hadn't expected his heart to sink at the sight of you being explicitly affectionate with anyone before him and he wondered if it was simply due to the fact that he hadn't been accostumed to it. He certainly hadn't expected of Eren to step in and swoop you away before his very eyes; the pain of seeing you next to a friend of his seemed even more devastating for a few seconds.

Nevertheless, the little shit had always had an eye on you, even if he liked to consider himself as a protegee if his.

Levi wondered if you had felt that loathing feeling as well. Petra hadn't been that private about their relationship, with her constant posts on Instagram, her continuous snaps of him on a daily basis. Whereas he hadn't seen you post many things in the course of eight months.

He had brushed off the idea of scrolling through your socials a numerous times before finally agreeing on linking with Petra. Secretly he'd search for your shared photos, hoping they'd appear out of nowhere on your profile. Secretly he'd stare at his archived posts, contemplating on whether he should keep photos of a better time protected or whether he should delete them.

Now with his back against the sink to prevent himself from catching his reflection judging him, he unlocked his phone and tapped the familiar fuchsia icon. As expected, Eren's profile icon flashed in a pink and orange ombre circle before all others, signaling he had posted a story. Not supressing his pulled heartstrings who were set to call the shots tonight, Levi tapped on the icon with such force that a loud tapping sound filled his ears.

The video loaded painfully slow, his data connection giving in to the thick bathroom walls. Eren's face flashed on his screen, sheepish smile adorning his features."There's no hope for us!" He spoked in blurred pronounciation. "Even the anti smoker is smoking!" In a quick sequence the camera angle shifted on you, apathetically taking a drag out of a freshly rolled cigarette while cussing him out in a stern tone.

Silently he scrunched his nose and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Surely you still hadn't learnt from past mistakes. In seldom occasions you'd smoke while mixing your drinks, nothing unusual for people at your age; although Levi knew better than to do it consciously, you sometimes did. He had been strick and unforgiving on you, snapping out on you the following day for not taking good care of yourself. Clearly his short temper had only pushed you to riot now that you were away from him.

When the door shot open, causing him to jump and nearly let his phone slip away from his grip, he couldn't bring himself to realise for how long he'd been sitting in the bathroom, replaying Eren's story.

His eyes quickly recognised you as you shot your arms to pull your hair away from your face. He had seen you from every possible angle, a feeling that once upon a time had made him feel sick and trapped, pushing him to make stressed decisions. Every little detail of yours was curved in the back of his brain, awaiting for moments like this to unleash. It was easy like that to recognize you for miles ago.

As much as he'd like to, he didn't make a move towards you, afraid that maybe if you saw him out of all people in this state you'd jump in fear.

Nonetheless he couldn't help the silent inquiry concerning your condition not slip off his mouth. "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." You gulped, supressing the urge to spill your stomach's insides before the person behind you. "It's just- my ex is here and I- I guess I got stressed and I smoked and I drunk too much and ugh-" you cringed at the way you overshared your personal matters with a stranger, although you momentarily found comfort in the action. No one could judge you if they didn't know you, right?

"You don't say!"

Of course luck wouldn't be on your side. Ever since you laid your eyes on him a few hours ago you knew it in your heart this night would fall in crumbles, but did it really have to be this way?

You jumped, startled at the sight of Levi's familiar face, ignoring the way your heart fell as hard as a rock in your stomach, ignoring the vertigo like feeling to numb the poor organ. Puke hitched in your throat and you ripped your eyes away from his form in a panicked state. Your stomach emptied in the porcelain toilet, leaving atrocious sounds as it burned and scratched on your throat. You feel your whole body go weak with every shot of your stomach. Your hands couldn't keep their grasp on your hair; they quickly fell near your legs.

Levi crouched to your side in a heartbeat, his quick instincts getting the best of him as he grabbed your hair tenderly in order to keep it away from your face.

"Fuck, just how much did you even drink?" He whispered, hand reluctantly reaching to soothe down your back.

"You should know." You barked. "You were staring. How dare you?"

He had grown accustomised to quite make out your mutters by assuming what you were feeling in the moment. Athough, as your excessive vomiting came to an alt, you yanked your hair angrily out of his hands, refusing to associate yourself with him anymore.

As you meticulously washed your hands and mouth you noticed his stretched hand shielded the way to the door, blocking you from exiting. Your dizzy state didn't allow you to be feisty as you fixated your interest in swooning over the way his arms looked with his sleeves rolled up. You took a mental note to scold yourself for that very fact once you were sober enough.

"I have to go to my friends, thanks for helping me."

"You're not going anywhere." You noticed his breath hitched as he spoke. Was he equally as drunk? Wasn't he supposed to handle his alcohol like he had always said? Just how much had he had to drink? "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why you drunk so much."

Your silent thoughts geared up inside your brain, ready to skyrocket out of your mouth the moment you opened it to speak. "It's because you're here and you're with her and seeing the two of you in action is only making it real!"

Levi erratically blinked at your word vomiting. He hadn't expected you to just spill out those words without a notice it a warning, hell, even a little warm up would be nice to help him form a preserved reaction without becoming a drunk stuttering mess.

Without warning your hands wrapped around him, chests pressed against each other in the firmest way possible, sending shivers down his newly sweating spine. Normally, he'd say he hated the way you nuzzled against the crook of his neck, wiggling your nose through his crewneck sweater to coo into his warmth. Normally, he'd pinch himself and wake up and you would disappear, never to been seen laying beside him in such manner again.

Normally his blood wouldn't pump profoundly in his veins in excitement and lust as your touch and your smell.

As the sweet aroma of vanilla and pergamont englulfed his nostrils his arms loosened around him before jumping to the sides of your face, yanking it away from his neck. His next move was crucial; thumbs tenderly stroked on your cheeks as his stormy eyes looked silently into yours. He could only listen to his heartbeat as he crushed his mouth against yours in a feverous manner.

His body pushed against yours in need to pull you into the kiss as you responded with equal effort to your passion. Fortunately for him you had spent minutes trying meticulous wash out any smell or taste away from your mouth with some oral hygiene products you had happened to come across in the cupboards. The fact that he was drunk didn't mean he was inconsiderate of his need for everything to be clean.

All in all, be wasn't sure how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his car, topless with your tongues genuinely battling for dominance.

He must have been in a haze as he pushed past and out of the crowd, erratically trying to remember the general direction in which his car was parked.

As his hands gripped everywhere he could find his eyes didn't dare to shoot open. Existing in this moment, dry humping to your hips from underneath you. Tiny bumps adorned your skin every time he touched you. The freezing air of December had finally brushed its effect on both of you, soft shivers shook your whole form and he couldn't help but notice.

He couldn't think straight, despite wanting to though.

Your lips launched in the soft spot on his neck in an effortless manner. To him it was obvious you hadn't forgotten his own anatomy; all the places that you touched teased him perfectly to submission making him sink into the black industrial seat.

Your hands passionately grabbed the back of his hair, elbows colliding with the skin just under his collarbone.

"I've missed this, I've longed for this."

Your words, whether they were intentional or not, slit through his chest and set fire to the wound, causing another wave of stressful passion to spread from his stomach to his whole body. Chaste kisses were places all over his face, underneath his bangs, on his eyes, even the tenders corners of his jaw.

Your noses crashed, your breaths mingling in the air as your lips found his again.

You moved your lips in perfect synch, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle that were fabricated to fit perfectly on eachother. It hurt you that your bodies were working against your sober wills. You made another note to punish yourself for that as well once you were in your right mind.

His hands wrapped tighter around your back, crashing you impossibly closer next to him. Your chest fought to rise and fall as squirms escaped you, engulfed into his mouth.

"We shouldn't do this here, I'm not up to voyeuring anyone." He remarked, but fell silent as you placed another brushing kiss on his lips before pulling back to slightly nod in agreement.

Before you knew it you were wrapped in his jacket, your top long forgotten in an unseen corner of his car. His own charcoal black crewneck shielded his body from your sight as he hit the pedals of his car almost too closely to the allowed speed limit.

Long forgotten were his friends and date to the first party, long forgotten were any attempts to find excuses for whatever had ignited what was happening.

The trip to his apartment was quicker than what you had expected; maybe it was for the alcohol in your system that left you in a constant vertigo, but your head wasn't getting any better. The warm golden Christmas city lights adorned every single aspect of the streets and captivated your eyes spreading their heat into your whole form. With Christmas around the corner the current situation felt even more alluring to indulge into.

Christmas always meant Levi, in a way.

You swore you only blinked for a second once you entered the apartment building front door but when you opened your eyes you were before his door.

As always, it read 25B.

In a flash you were underneath him in his bed, hair sprawled everywhere around you as his lips angrily assaulted your collarbones. You didn't trust your drunk antics to tell you if the night was still young, but you assumed it could still labor a few more hours of the greediness between two long lost lovers.

"I" he started acting kissed on your lips as his hands came to mingle with the button of your jeans. "Want you to know." Another kiss was placed on your lips. "That" another "I-"

This time you cut him off with your swollen lips on his, sucking all air out of his lungs. "Just kiss me and we'll talk about this afterwards."

Your eyes throbbed as light entered their cavities, reflecting on your irises despite your best wishes. You had only just shot out a hand to shield them from the warm rays of sun when panic stabbed through your chest like a murderous intruder.

They blueyish grey tink to the walls and the futuristic design of the drawers and nightstands were all too familiar to you. They stood there, mocking you on all their dark chocolaty color for being unable to come up with an immediate answer to your whereabouts.

Your head was being occasionally jolted in throbbing hot pain as you decided to look around you in the matress, in hopes of recognising the person to whom the newly sounding grunts belonged to.

To your utter shock and disbelief, Levi shot up from his position on the bed. You watched as his eyes widened at the sight of you, grey orbs slightly shrinking in shock and realisation.

"What did you-" he began but soon his hand shot up to his own throbbing head. "Shit just how much did we have to drink?"

"Okay I have a better question," you added to your shared misery "are you as naked as I am?"

It was on rare occasions that you had seen such irrational panic mask Levi's face, yet this time must have been the most striking one amongst the ones you could recall. His skin had lost at least two shades of color, his lips parted slightly. His forehead was cringled as his eyebrows were skyrocketing away from his eyes.

Although when he opened his mouth in an attempt to confirm the obvious, he was quickly cut off by the sound of his doorbell being rung, along with three stern knocks on his door. Even his phone started ringing from beside him, adding pressure to his momentarily frozen state. He picked the divice in his hands, fingers shakingly making their way to the acceptance button.

"Hey Petra!"

"Hey love!" You heard the cheerful voice fill the air through his speaker. Petra had a really loud voice, you noticed, it was either that or that your head was about to explode from the hangover. "I'm outside, please open up, you left without even saying goodbye and wouldn't pick up your phone. I'm so worried."

"Tch, give me a second I'll get changes and we can have breakfast at that cafe you like." Levi grunted, his thumb reaching to rub soothing circles on the prominent vein in his forehead.

"Can I come inside?"

Shit.

"Yeah yeah." He spoke as he hit the closing button, his phone being slammed against the bed. His head turned to you, only to reveal a section of his throat that was bruised in lovemarks you had left on him. "Hide, stay silent, I don't know which one, just do it."

After his harsh order, his eyes never had a chance to reach yours as he got up from the bed to sprint to his dresser, hurriedly searching for the only washed black turtleneck he owned. He hadn't even had a chance to look himself in the mirror, but knowing you, you couldn't have held back from munching on the skin in his throat.

Upon his quick discovery, he threw on a pair of gray of sweats that he recover from the hanger behind his door.

You didn't dare speak, hell you didn't even dare move, the fear of being discovered in such pretentious position -as the third person- in a house you once had lived in overtook your natural senses and your irrational thinking. Your heart didn't cease to sink as moments later you heard the door click open, then immediately close.

The familiar buzzing sound of silence filled your ears a few moments later. This time realisation kicked in immediately in hopes of drowning your mind in excessive amounts of overthinking. That's how it was then?

Your head plopped down the pillows, sinking deeper and deeper with each passing second. Your heart skipped essential beats and your breathing hitched in your throat. Only one question stood on top of others.

What had you done?

Tags because yay: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 and @ackermans-freedom-inc because I know they were excited for this story and the new addition to my taglist (??) @alrightberries 👉🏻❤️👈🏻

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi #levi snk #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman imagine #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi imagine #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader

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uwua3 · 4 years ago

Note

hello! it's me again!! um.. can i request a day at an amusement park with taichi please? i feel like he doesn't get enough love.

thank you so much for requesting, clover~ ♡ please enjoy this super fluffy piece, just for you~ ´͈ ᵕ `͈ ♡°◌̊ i put lots n lots of #LOVE in it! <3 i love you with all my heart!!!

summary: even cupid deserves love, too!

warnings: bad relationship (slight mention), envy/jealousy, loneliness, misunderstandings

author’s note: happy valentine’s eve eve, my friends! i’m sooo #Happy !! i love valentine’s so much ♡(*´･ω･)(･ω･`*)♡ if you are Free on February 14, i am here waiting with flowers <3 (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞⋆**💐 (please celebrate v-day with me TT) ~ in celebration of my favorite holiday, please smile at this fluffy headcanon of taichi as the lovely, adorable cupid! 🏹💗 i love you all!

word count: 3,567

music: heart attack – loona (chuu)

stupid cupid.

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

every year, taichi spent valentine’s day alone

february 14th was another day of being absolutely single. but, for him, there was nothing better than seeing love in the air

especially as the “cupid” working all february long!

as cupid, taichi looked forward to becoming the epitome of pink & red hearts every year. it was a job no one else except him could do; who else to predict the probability of relationships than the matchmaker himself?

taichi loved love! he always could tell when people had crushes on others growing up like it was second nature. he couldn’t even count on both hands how many successful relationships he’s gotten together

love came easy to taichi. it was everything valentine’s was: floating heart balloons, bouquets of red roses, sights only romance movies would show, chocolates that came in heart-shaped boxes, poems from the heart, and so much more~!

the moment taichi set his eyes on someone, it was like he was the one who loaded the arrow and fired it. he knew who liked who, it was what he did best. his intuition was second to none, he was the amusement park’s cupid

for a month, all taichi had to do was sit at a booth and predict a person’s love life leading up to valentine’s day. it was easy money considering his success rate was 99%!

(we don’t talk about the time taichi accidentally caused a break-up... but, that’s beside the point!) (at least they’re happy now...)

yet, there was one thing wrong: taichi was loveless

despite being made of love, breathing love, living out of love, taichi had never celebrated valentine’s. it seemed like all the arrows missed him completely

taichi had never experienced any of the things that made love love, but that was okay! sure, it was a little lonely seeing happy couples all month but... it was worth it to see the smile on people’s faces! love wasn’t just romantic, platonic love was super important!

still... taichi forced himself to smile to apply the heart-shaped blush to his cheeks. there was a part of him, a hole in his heart, that longed to know what valentine’s felt like

FEBRUARY 1 — taichi fluttered the pair of angel wings excitedly, happy to be back in his valentine’s attire. he couldn’t help but jump up and down, squealing about how good it was to be “back in business”

even without his usual pink & red contacts, taichi’s eyes would’ve had heart-shaped pupils with how much love he had for this holiday season! as he greeted his coworkers for the first time in a year, taichi stood out amongst the crowd of workers listening to their orders for the day

as usual, taichi would be the cupid at a small, glittery booth that was louder than life itself. sure, it was a very discreet and low-budget set up, but it always was a fan favorite to catch this valentine’s season

taichi couldn’t help but run off to his station the moment he was dismissed, his wings flapping behind him and sling of heart arrows jostling. he almost slid past his stool but skidded, luckily landing in the right place with a bright grin on his face

when the afternoon officially began with people beginning to come in to the amusement park, taichi tapped his feet with exhiliration. showtime!

“welcome~! find out your love fortune this valentine’s season!” taichi happily advertised, putting his heart and soul into gathering the attention of the masses. slowly but surely, people began flocking to his side, unable to resist the teen’s infectious love and happiness to be here

it was like taichi raised the bow & arrow and fired into the squad. it captured the hearts of a hundred as people sat down across from him, seeking his love & relationship advice

there was a multitude of ways taichi could make someone’s day. whether it was reading love oracle cards or mixing up candy hearts, taichi loved putting on a show for people to enjoy

during a gap between couple sessions, taichi leaned his cheek against his hand and quietly whined to himself. he had recently just met such an adorable and lovey-dovey pair, even he felt sick with how much sweetness there was!

taichi wished he had that... before looking up. suddenly, his heart skipped a beat

it was like the gods & goddesses of love had heard his prayers because today was the first day he saw you

someone passed by the forming line. you hadn’t even noticed him, but taichi had certainly noticed you. when the moment passed and you disappeared, taichi had to focus before getting back into his cupid persona, smiling charmingly like nothing had happened

but, something did happen. taichi had just experienced love at first sight!

taichi hadn’t even had time to load his arrow before you hit him with his

it’s not like he was going to see you again, though... taichi’s loveless life wasn’t a romance film. nor a sappy piece of literature, unfortunately

though, for once, cupid wished he had someone to share this special month with like everyone else

FEBRUARY 3 — taichi was in charge of the valentine’s decorations comimg up. this was perhaps, the best news he had received in his entire life

there was something about folding a million origami hearts that made taichi’s own heart grow a thousand times larger. it was calming during his breaks to fold and fold again, with no thought process behind a skill that came naturally

as taichi cut the colorful paper into the perfect size with ease, he was humming the latest pop song on the radio before he heard something that made his heart break

arguing?! in the loveliest season of the year?!

taichi glanced around and noticed a distinct couple. the pair was fighting rather publicly despite the other person trying to keep their voice down and calm their partner down. before taichi could turn away and mind his own business, they sighed and turned in his direction

taichi felt his breath hitch in his throat as his hands froze, the paper suddenly bent in his tight grip. it was you, the person from two days ago!

so much for it being an one-time thing... taichi could already feel the butterflies in his stomach just at the thought of this being fate. twice in a row? did this mean something?

as taichi tried to search through his brain for what the chick flicks and rom-coms liked to say, you had already left with the person you were arguing with. as they walked ahead of you, you hung your head low with the shame and embarrassment of public humiliation

for some reason, taichi hated seeing you like that despite not knowing anything about you. he was irrationally frustrated as well; how could anyone just make you sad like that and not apologize?

taichi figured he could do one last love reading for the day

when you passed by his booth, you didn’t notice how taichi had left a surprise in your jacket pocket

you exhaled softly when you arrived home, leaning on the door and closing your eyes. when you put your hands in your pockets, you paused as you felt something between your fingers

pulling it out, you noticed a small red origami heart. inside, was a message in a messy, hurried scrawl

“leave them, you deserve better. be with someone who makes you smile! — cupid ♡”

despite everything, you smiled

FEBRUARY 5 — taichi barely had time before there was a person at his booth: you

before taichi could even process that you were real, you spoke: “i broke up with them.”

taichi blinked. this was the first thing he’d learn about you, and it wasn’t even your name! this type of news usually wouldn’t make taichi feel like this, but he was honestly over the moon. he didn’t need to know anything else to know your previous partner had little to no consideration for your feelings

he’d definitely be a better boyfr—wait, what?!

“oh.” taichi said lamely, but his heart jumped when you laughed. it was a nice sound, one that made him think of giant teddy bears and sugary sweet candy. taichi wondered how hard the arrow hit, it must’ve gotten bullseye

“what’s your name?” you took the words right out of his mouth, and taichi blushed under the attention. despite being the main focus of the valentine’s event every year, it was different coming from you. it was like... you were really seeing him

“cupid, at your service!” taichi quickly jumped into character, bowing with a flourish. if he was in an anime, he’d be sparkling with rose effects right now, taichi thought proudly

but, you didn’t clap or amuse him like his other customers. instead, you observed him with a questioning look. it was like you were picturing him without the valentine’s attire, without the wings, bow & arrow, and glitter across his face

“i meant your real name.”

taichi blanked. you were a surprise; he had never been this speechless in his entire life... it was honestly kinda embarrassing for him, taichi was flustered for once

“but, why do you want to know?”

“because you make me smile.”

when taichi told you, you said it aloud and he finally understood what it meant to have a crush

all it took was one conversation and taichi was head over heels for you

FEBRUARY 7 — taichi had never been a target of love before. no one had ever liked him, nor had he ever developed a serious crush on someone before. he was far too busy fixing everyone’s disaster of a love life, never mind his own!

yet, it was like the world aligned so you two could meet. taichi swore the stars aligned, fate was working its magic so you both would meet at this giant amusement park during the most romantic month of the year

even though it had only been a week or so since taichi first met you, it felt like you two knew each other for your whole lives. after getting over the fact you made his heart beat way too fast, taichi quickly warmed up to you and vise versa

while you only came to actually thank cupid for helping you get out of a bad relationship, you realized you very much liked the person behind the angel wings. taichi was everything you expected and more, with his personality that reminded you valentine’s maybe wasn’t so bad

speaking of, taichi was absolutely in hysterics when he found out your stance on valentine’s

“what?! what do you mean you don’t....” taichi took in a deep breath, as if it pained him to continue. “you don’t like valentine’s day?!”

you knew it was ironic to befriend literal cupid when you didn’t have a taste for romance to begin with, but you tried to hide your entertained expression with a lighthearted eye roll

“i’ve never celebrated it. it seems like a capitalistic excuse to buy a bunch of overpriced stuff, to be honest.”

you physically winced when you heard the crack of taichi’s poor, poor heart. his puppy eyes widened at your revelation and leaned forward, uncharacteristically serious for his cupid persona. luckily, he was taking a fifteen-minute break so the curtains were drawn to hide his immense sadness

“b-but!” taichi spluttered, his brain running a million arguments at once, which was way too fast for his mouth. “it’s valentine’s day! it’s sooo romantic! love is everywhere! how can you not love love?”

you thought about it some more before shrugging, crossing your legs and trying to not break taichi’s heart even more. the poor cupid, it looked like he was going to cry like a baby

“why do you love love then?”

only you could render taichi silent. he had never been truly asked that question before, nor had he reflected on why he was the first person to become cupid every year

when taichi struggled to answer, you waited before he started speaking. it lacked the usual wonder and excitement he always had, it seemed like it was almost... personal

“i love love because... love is who i am. i didn’t...” taichi stopped, as if considering sharing with you before continuing, not giving you the second to tell him he didn’t have to. he wanted to, anyways

“i didn’t have love to call my own, at least, not the way i wanted it. so, i made my own love. i love people, i love the world, i love everything. everything deserves love! just because i love a lot, doesn’t make it any less special.”

you thought taichi would’ve said the expensive bouquets florists made of the prettiest roses. or the largest stuffed animals holding stitched plush hearts in their paws. or sunsets with classical music playing in the background like a nicholas sparks film. not... not that

“okay you sap, maybe valentine’s day isn’t that bad if you like it, then.”

taichi’s wings fluttered and he sat up, a smile upon his face

“i promise, valentine’s day is the best!”

now, that i’ve met you, taichi thought

FEBRUARY 9 — taichi came to work only to find a bouquet of flowers upon his booth. they were the grandest displays of affection yet, with the best-smelling hundred petal roses he had ever imagined

you, on the other hand, weren’t so impressed

“cupid, have you stolen the heart of another?” you said in the tone of a dramatic shakespearian actor, pretending to swoon when taichi hid his face in the flowers

“i... usually get flowers like these when i work, it’s nothing, really.” taichi mumbled, holding the flowers to his chest as a warm feeling spread across his body. he usually never got flowers, this was the first time someone had found his charms alluring enough to gift him such a pricey present

one look and you already knew he was lying. your heart fell a little when you noticed how happy taichi was, but you pretended to not care as you winked at him

“oh~ taichi has a lover now, huh?” he giggled in response, adamantly denying it despite holding the bouquet like it was his most prized possession. you glared a little harder at the red roses more than you’d like to admit

why were you feeling so... jealous? it’s not like you wanted the flowers or anything so—oh

when taichi turned that lovesick gaze towards you, you suddenly felt like you were on a sugar rush

when taichi performed his role better than ever with his newfound love for all things traditionally romantic, you watched off to the side

you reached up to your chest to feel the arrow, but to no avail

have you fallen for cupid?

FEBRUARY 11 — taichi shuffled the cards professionally, but his behavior was anything but that. the last time you had sat on the other side of the booth was days ago, but here you were, waiting for your love reading

when taichi met you, you weren’t a person who heavily believed in love. romance wasn’t something that made you happy nor did valentine’s day make you count down to february 14th like him. yet, you suddenly paid for a reading

you stared expectantly at him, your face once again unreadable and hard to distinguish. even if taichi was friends with you, he never mastered the art of reading you like a romance book. it was one of his most prominent talents, too, so it was strange why he couldn’t

you only showed him what you wanted him to see, unfortunately. regardless, taichi did the whole shebang, theatrics and all even if you had seen it a thousand times by now

“welcome to cupid’s love booth! let me read your love life~” taichi laid out the pink cards in a pretty, attention-grabbing manner before asking you to pick three. you did so relatively quickly, which taichi admired you for (he had once sat waiting for someone to pick, but they had taken nearly ten minutes. there was only so much cupid could do)

when taichi flipped them over, it was surprising, to say the least. of course, you didn’t understand a thing as you waited for him to explain. however, taichi fell quiet, reading the cards with furrowed eyebrows

“awww, come on, cupid, give it to me straight. am i destined to be single forever?” you joked but a part of you worried about taichi’s reaction. even though he wore his heart on his sleeve and always expressed his feelings, he had never reacted this negatively to a reading before

taichi laughed at your joke, but it felt like a customer service one. it seemed strained and before you could ask if he was okay, taichi’s brilliant wink put him back as the amusement park’s favorite cupid

“is there someone you’re not telling me about~? it seems like you have a friend you like, am i right?” taichi had hit bullseye; how did he know just from those cards? you didn’t answer, just offering an innocent shrug as if you didn’t care. you very much did, though

“so i am! i’m seeing that you’ve recently liked them, ahhh, young love~” taichi sighed, as if in love with the concept already. “looks like love’s in the air, my dear, so don’t worry about a thing! they like you back, without a doubt.”

you looked up at this, eyes wide before returning to your nonchalant state. taichi wondered what that could’ve meant even as he tried to maintain his shaking hands

“they do? how do you know?”

taichi held a finger to his lips, as if it was a secret only cupid could know

“shhh, i just know. trust me, they’d be a fool to not like you back.”

you could tell it wasn’t cupid just talking, and you knew what you had to do

“i’ll ask them to be my valentine tomorrow, then.”

taichi’s heart broke but... as long as you were happy, how could he say no?

FEBRUARY 13 — taichi wished he had a valentine. if only you liked him, maybe he would’ve asked you, his first crush, to be his this month (and even longer). but, you were somewhere else, asking someone else to be your valentine

taichi frowned, finding it hard to maintain his happy excitement forever as the line began becoming longer and longer. taichi huffed, looking around as if you’d suddenly appear. but, taichi’s life wasn’t a movie...

“hey cupid, why so sad?”

taichi turned around to see the biggest plushie he had seen in his entire life. it covered your entire frame, with the dog ears flopping over its giant black eyes cutely. in its arms was a red heart with the cursive words “i like you!” in white stitching

before taichi could even react, you peeked over the plush’s shoulder with a slightly embarrassed look

“can you take it already? i’ve been getting weird looks from everyone i’ve walked by.”

taichi took the plush and placed it on the seat next to him, about to speak before you pulled out an even bigger bouquet from behind your back

they weren’t just red roses. they were a rainbow of them, ranging from pink, white, yellow, blue, red, and even black! taichi could barely even count how many there were before you passed it to him, doing your best to not pass out and die from how sappy this all was

“see, these are even better than the bouquet you got last time. i clearly am the better, uh, person for you, you know?” taichi didn’t have the time to respond before you turned around again and presented a display of chocolates, all of them heart-shaped and tied in ribbon

“you like chocolate, right? yeah, of course you do, i also got—” before you could keep rambling, taichi gently held your hand. your heartrate skyrocketed and you froze, unsure of what to do when taichi was looking at you with his heart eyes

“you got all of this... for me?” taichi was genuinely amazed and flattered, a light dust of red across his cheeks at how romantic all of this was. you blushed as well, looking away bashfully

“i mean, yeah. i don’t see anyone else around.”

“but... you don’t like valentine’s day?”

you sighed, knowing the next words out of your mouth are word he’s going to never let you forget

“but, i like you.”

“but... i thought you liked someone else?”

“stupid cupid, i like you. only you.”

taichi stood up, not as cupid, but as himself. when he softly turned your head towards him, he smiled gently, squeezing your hands with all the appreciation in the world

“i like you, too. with or without the romance, i would’ve said yes to being your valentine no matter what you did.”

you breathed a sigh of relief. sure, you didn’t love love like taichi, but... he deserved it

“i have an idea.” you proposed, leaning in closer as taichi awaited your response with bated breath

“you should open a kissing booth.”

“you’d be my only customer.”

“then give me my kiss already!”

FEBRUARY 14 (valentine’s day) — every year, taichi spent valentine’s alone. until, he met you

“stupid cupid, i like you.”

you and taichi were shot by cupid’s arrow this valentine’s day

#nanao taichi #taichi nanao #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #taichi x reader #a3! taichi #a3 taichi

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago

Text

Nightclub, Hero Edition

—080—

Post-break-up partying isn’t really your style, but when your friends drag you out to the nightclub, you don’t really have much of a say. You’re standing in line waiting to get in when a shiny sports car pulls up. Who should get out but Ground Zero and Mind Jack. The underground hero, Mind Jack (Hitoshi Shinsou), spots you in the crowd and keeps his eye on you all night. Evidently, so does his friend, Katsuki Bakugo. After a surprise run in with your ex, Neito Monoma, Hitoshi and Katsuki show off to Monoma how the two of them together can please you better than he ever could.

Katsuki Bakugo and Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

All minor characters are aged up. I do not write minor x adult fiction.

—080—

Contents: public sex, voyeurism, threesome, fingering, light hair pulling, praise kink, double penetration, overstimulation

“The hell you mean, you can’t go?” Katsuki glared at his friend.

His fists clenched at his sides. One day out of the week out of the entire month. He had one night to blow off some steam, and there was nobody who could back him up. Eijiro nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Look, man, I’d love to, but I already made plans. Maybe you could find another wingman?”

“What’d you say? You think I’m gonna take some shitty extra with me on my one night off? I bust my balls every damn day for this freakin’ city, and I can’t even get my best wingman with me?”

Pro-hero work wasn’t what he expected it to be. Sure, he had the money, the clout, and the entourage of girls (and sometimes dudes) who fought each other for a millisecond of his time.

“Mina’s been planin’ this thing for weeks now. I can’t just back out now,” said Eijiro.

Katsuki’s eyes flitted to someone else in the group. Denki felt the immediate power of Katsuki’s anger in one glance. Denki threw his hands up in that universal sign of surrender.

“Don’t look at me, dude. I’m on duty that night. Besides, maybe if you weren’t into kinky shit—”

Katsuki slammed his palm on the table. A silent threat to blow it up. His face screwed up into that gremlin mask he wore when he was extra obnoxious. But at a closer look, one could barely see the tinge of red in his cheeks.

“When I need your opinion, Spark Plug, I’ll ask for it!” Katsuki grabbed his drink and started angrily draining it as he slouched in his chair.

“What if I called Shinsou?” Denki offered.

“Why’d I do a stupid thing like that?”

“Because you’d be surprised about how much you and Shinsou have in common?” Denki was already scrolling through his phone as if looking for something. “He doesn’t patrol on Saturdays, and he’s single. What’s the worse thing that could happen?”

Katsuki growled while Denki texted. Denki’s phone pinged every time Shinsou sent a response. Denki put his phone into Katsuki’s face.

“See? Looks like he’s down for it!”

Katsuki swatted Denki’s hand away. Chewing on his straw, he was forced to choke down his pride. He had only a few words with Shinsou, and he didn’t like the guy. He didn’t like many people either, but did he have much a choice if everybody else was bailing on him? It wasn’t as much fun all by oneself.

“J-Just, tell him to meet me at Supernova. Nine o’clock sharp, and he better not show up in a shitty outfit either.”

This outfit wasn’t your idea. Your friends put you in those skimpy little jean shorts and a pink midriff-baring top just as they put you up to come out tonight. You’d rather watch Netflix in bed wearing a comfy hoodie. Would you be stuffing your face with your favorite ice cream? Yes. Going out to nightclubs with your girlfriends and drinking away, your sorrows wasn’t usually how to get over a break-up. You are a fully grown woman and wanted to decide how best to get over a two-year-long relationship. You really should have thought of that before you got friends.

Two of the four girls dragging out into the night after dollying you up were already tipsy. Pre-game partying, they call it. You’d literally rather be anywhere but out tonight.

The five of you wait in line for fifteen minutes waiting to get in. A flashy red car pulls up and parks. You watch with scrutinizing eyes who steps out. Camera phones are flashing in the vehicle’s direction as soon as the passengers exit. You recognized the blonde by his scowl. Ground Zero. But the other one? You have no idea. He looks like the underground hero, Mind Jack, but since there were so few pictures of him on the internet, you couldn’t be sure. Fangirls screamed and pressed against the velvet ropes as the gentlemen sauntered up to the front of the line. You craned your next in time to see Bakugo flash a VIP pass, which permitted him and his friend early entrance into the nightclub. Just before they went in, Mind Jack looked down the line of those waiting before his eyes landed on you. You flush red as he glanced at you and gave you a knowing smirk. Mind Jack quickly followed behind Bakugo into the nightclub.

Your friends stared and asked incessant questions. They had less of an idea who Bakugo was bringing with him, but they all seemed to agree that he was hot. You couldn’t deny the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. There was something about his penetrating glance that made your insides warm and fuzzy.

You were to wait another twenty minutes before even getting inside to find out why you caught his attention. Half your friends went to the bar while the other half tried to drag you out onto the dance floor. You barely managed to escape and find your own secluded spot at the bar where your other friends couldn’t see you. Your only drink for the night was going to be that bottle of beer, and that was it. Exciting, no, but you planned to arrive home mostly sober enough to binge watch that new romantic comedy until daybreak and avoid going home with a complete stranger. Anonymous sex just wasn’t your type of post-break-up healing routine.

You stood against the wall watching other people have their fun. The music was something you could probably dance to, but maybe after you finished sipping your beer. As you scrolled through your social media after becoming bored with people-watching, you suddenly looked up. You could not escape the sensation of someone watching you. You glanced around the nightclub in a panic then settled on the cause of your anxiety. Indigo eyes were eating you up from across the dance floor. He was seated in a VIP lounge with Bakugo. His friend seemed more interested in talking than he was, which suited him just fine as it allowed him to stare at you.

A shiver ran down your spine. Mind Jack couldn’t want anything from you, could he? You thought about all the girls your ex-boyfriend compared you to. You were too prudish, and when you did have sex, you weren’t all that adventurous. You wanted to like sex just like everybody else did. Whether it was you or your partners, you couldn’t tell. You sipped your beer, chiding yourself.

This is a mistake. I should just check out and go home.

You almost turned to find one of your friends when Mind Jack caught your eye again. You glanced up at him to see Mind Jack whispering something to Bakugo. He had his hand cupping his mouth so you couldn’t tell what he was saying. Not that it made a difference at any rate with the club’s pulsing, beating music thrumming in your ears. To your shock, Bakugo turned his red eyes towards you.

You couldn’t help swallowing hard and downed the rest of your drink. You thought it best to sneak away and grab one of your friends before you did something silly and out of character. You tiptoed unto the dance floor, brushing past gyrating, sweating bodies. Two of your friends joined the others dancing and didn’t even hear you calling out to them. A pair of strong hands reached out and touched your waist.

“At least let me talk to you before you start running for the hills.” A voice said next to your ears.

You gulped again. You never heard this voice before but felt its timber shoot pleasure all the way down your spine. You felt the warmth of his body pressing against you.

“Um,” you licked your lips. “I’ve never done this before. I-I don’t really go out to clubs.”

“Relax. I’m not going to bite.” The stranger spun you around to face him.

You faced those indigo eyes up close and personal. This close, you could see the dark shadows beneath his eyes. He was pale beneath the strobe lights.

“Unless you’re into that sort of thing,” he chuckled.

“Are you, are you at least going to give me a name before you try to dance with me?” You stammered.

“Mind Jack, but you can call me Hitoshi.”

“Is it safe for you to give me your real name? Being an underground hero and all?” You asked.

“Let’s just say I’m very comfortable getting to you. How about you give me your name, or else I’ll start calling you kitty.”

Your face turned beet red, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol you just finished off. Shinsou pulled you close to him so that your bodies pressed together.

“Y-Y/N L/N. I’m Y/N L/N.”

“Well, L/N, can I have this dance?”

“S-Sure,” you answered.

Hitoshi lowered his hands to your hips and looked for permission. You laced your arms on his shoulders and nodded. Throughout the first song, you apologized for not knowing how to dance and stepping on his toes. Hitoshi squeezed your hips, and you couldn’t deny how his hand felt on you. Your lower belly was full of butterflies at this point. You wondered if a single bottle was all it took to make you lose all inhibitions. You were lost in your own thoughts as well as Shinsou’s burning gaze when a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

“Mind if I cut in?”

You knew that voice. It couldn’t be. Could it?

You were spun around landed in the chest of none other than Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero himself. Your face turned a brighter shade of red. Your body moved parallel to his as the music pulsed in your ears. Katsuki’s hands wandered to your lower back and hip as he pulled you close. He leaned his head towards your neck. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, giving rise to goosebumps. Your heart fluttered in your chest. Your nails dug into his shoulders as if begging him to stop or continue; you could no longer tell at this point.

Another set of hands pulled you away or tried to. Katsuki’s hold on you was too strong to remove you entirely away from him. Hitoshi appeared behind you. His hand reached behind the back of your neck and turned your face towards his. Katsuki kissed the juncture of where your shoulder met your neck while Hitoshi claimed your lips. You moaned at the dual sensation of two men kissing different parts of you at the same time. Your legs instantly turned into Jell-O. If not for the set of hands holding you up, it would be easy for your legs to give out from beneath you and make you collapse on the floor. Alcohol officially had nothing to do with you making out with one pro-hero while another kissed your neck. Hitoshi ran his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission for entrance. Slowly, you opened your mouth to permit him. Hands ran up and down your torso and the top of your thighs. Between them, you were gripped, groped, and caressed in ways at your ex would have never. You became lost in the flavor of Hitoshi when you heard a deriding laugh even above the pounding music.

You didn’t realize that you closed your eyes the moment Hitoshi started kissing you. When you opened them again, standing before you with a sneer on his face was your ex-boyfriend, Neito Monoma. His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked at you stuck between two men.

“It’s been less than what? A week? Couldn’t decide which one, so you decide to be a slut with both of them?” Said Neito.

“Hey, Monoma,” said Hitoshi.

“Wh—”

He stupidly fell right into Hitoshi’s trap. Neito stood there dumbly in the middle of the dance floor with that vacant stare.

“Monoma, stand there and watch us please your former girlfriend better than you could.”

Katsuki chuckled against your skin. “Yeah, ya damn extra. Stand over there with that dumb, shitty look on your face.”

Katsuki’s hand slipped into your shorts. With everyone drunk and dancing and the lights pulsating, the dimly lit nightclub gave him plenty of coverage. His fingers quickly found your clit. You shivered when Katsuki began to work you into a fit. Your back arched forward, but Hitoshi’s arm snaked around your stomach to keep you close to him. Hitoshi’s lips graced your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin. Katsuki picked up the pace of his fingers to match the fast beat of the music drumming in your ears. Your gaze fixed on Monoma, who could do nothing.

Katsuki slammed his mouth on yours while the rough pace of his fingers never faltered. You moaned against him as his tongue viciously, hungrily explored your mouth. Hitoshi secreted his hand beneath your shirt and cupped your breast through your bra. The sensations made you forget that you were in the middle of a nightclub dance floor. Your back arched like a bow. Your eyes closed and screwed tight as Katsuki brought you over the edge. You moaned into his mouth with your hands, reaching for his hair and pulling hard. Your hips bucked against him as the waves of pleasure crashed into you. When you finally came down from your high, Hitoshi helped support you against his firm chest. Katsuki slowly pulled away. He and Hitoshi quickly rearranged your clothes to make you look as inconspicuous as possible. That was a little easier said than done with your completely blissed out face and the thin sheen of sweat covering your body.

“Hey, Kitty,” said Hitoshi. He whispered next to your ear. “Wanna take this party elsewhere?”

You glanced at Monoma. He was set free from Hitoshi’s quirk, but he still stood there. His face was red. Looking down, evidence of his arousal embarrassingly stood out like a sore thumb. Monoma gave you one final sneer before running off.

Whether to hide his hard-on or take care of it, you didn’t care to know.

“Who’s place?” You asked hoarsely.

You had your arm on Hitoshi’s back, and he put his hand on your shoulder. You walked out of the club like that with Katsuki leading the way. You quickly sent a text to your friends that you met somebody. Judging by how many people were staring at your exit, it was safe to say that they would have figured out who you were going out within no time at all.

Hitoshi rode in the back with you while Katsuki drove. Five minutes into the car ride, Hitoshi worked the button off your shorts and wriggled his hand inside. He kissed you fiercely, occasionally looking into the rearview mirror to glance at Katsuki. What was he doing egging Katsuki on? Katsuki shifted in the driver’s seat with each passing glance at you and Hitoshi fooling around in the back of his car.

Hitoshi’s fingers weren’t as thick and calloused as Katsuki’s, but the slim fingers felt too damn good. You were moaning into Hitoshi’s kiss. You reached up and pulled his hair as he slipped his fingers into your panties and between your slick folds. He pumped his fingers slowly, at first, inside of your slit. One finger, then two, and as soon as you were a proper mess for him, Hitoshi added a third. He broke away from the kiss to watch you ride his fingers.

Your sensitive body jolted with every thrust of his fingers. Your hips bucked into his hand, and you rode him until you saw stars. Katsuki pulled into the driveway of his miniature mansion, opened the garage door, and pulled in. The car was secured, and the door closed. He turned off the radio. The wet squelching your cunt made taking three of Hitoshi’s fingers filled the car. You hadn’t even realized that the car had been turned off. Katsuki shifted in the driver’s seat to get a good look at you.

“Come for me.” Hitoshi kissed your ear.

You obeyed. It didn’t take much to have you coming again. Drool seeped out of the corner of your mouth as your inner walls clenched around his fingers. Hitoshi pulled out slowly. He gave his index finger a long suck, humming as he enjoyed the taste of you.

“How does she taste?” Asked Katsuki.

“So good. I can’t wait to taste the rest of her.”

Hitoshi helped you out of the car and carried you up to Katsuki’s bedroom. Even in your delirium, Katsuki’s bed appeared bigger than it needed to be. He laid you out on the pillows, hair fanning the silk and goose feathers. Your shoes were taken off but not the rest of your attire. You sat up a little as Katsuki and Hitoshi slowly pulled off their clothes. They climbed in bed with you completely naked.

Just like before, you were pressed between them. Hot hands and nimble fingers worked under your clothes, caressed your skin, and gave you goosebumps. Katsuki and Hitoshi took turns kissing your lips until you couldn’t tell whose tongue was shoved down your throat. Your outfit was simple enough and easy to remove. Piece by piece, it was all taken away and thrown into some unknown corner of the room. Your nipples were pinched until they looked more like rosebuds. On your breasts, neck, and shoulders bloomed dark bruises. You sighed into their touches, kisses, and love bites.

Hitoshi slipped his slender fingers back into you and teased your hot, wet slit. Warmth pooled inside your lower belly. He pumped his fingers slowly in and out.

“Fuck, she’s soaked down here.” Hitoshi sucked your neck. “I don’t think she can take much more of this.”

You shook your head in agreement. Your brain was fuzzy with lust and anticipation. You came twice already and just with their fingers. How much better would it feel with their cocks? Those turgid members pressed against your lower back and your stomach. You felt the ridges of each, and the hard lengths made your wall clench. This felt wrong, taking two men at once, but so, so right.

“God, please fuck me. One or the other, both, I don’t care. I can’t pick, just please somebody fuck me!” You begged.

Katsuki kissed you hard. He stole your breath away, and only when it seemed that he took more than your breath, he released you, licking your lips.

“I love a girl who knows what she wants.”

He pulled away to settle down on the pillows and leaned against the headboard. Katsuki curled his finger towards you in a ‘come hither’ motion. You crawled on the bed up to him. Katsuki’s hands seized your hips and forced you to straddle his hips. His thick, rigid member protruded against the crack of your ass. Hitoshi wasn’t far behind. The mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled behind you. His hands reached in front of you and groped your breasts.

“Ever had two cocks at the same time?” Asked Katsuki.

Your mind was too focused on Hitoshi’s experienced hands playing with your breasts and pulling your nipples taut. All you could do was shake your head. You couldn’t help but feel a little naïve with the two men who obviously had more experience than you.

“Then you’re in for a treat. Come here, princess.”

Katsuki pushed you back slightly and lifted you up. You were placed over his cock before letting you sink slowly unto it. The ridges and veins of his cock brushed against your walls to create even more slick. The entrance was painless despite his size and his length almost brushing your cervix. You straddled Katsuki’s hips with his cock buried deep. Your cunt felt so full that you were left in awe and your jaw hitting the ground. Katsuki grabbed your arms to pull you flush on top of him, your soft breasts against his hard muscles.

He kissed you again, this time distracting you from Hitoshi pressing behind you. You squeaked when felt the blunt end of Hitoshi’s cock press against your already stuffed entrance. His fingers squeezed inside and pumped. You cried out as you were slowly spread open wider. Hitoshi pushed and pushed his cock inside of your walls until there was no more room for even a pinky finger.

You moaned into Katsuki’s chest. Unceasingly, your cries filled the room—pain mixed with the pleasure which made you drool. Hitoshi tried to pull out, but you groped behind you and found his hand.

“Gimme, gimme a minute. It feels…so good,” you whined.

Both of them allowed you several minutes to adjust to their cocks being inside of your cunt at the same time. Somewhere in the middle of waiting for you, one of them started petting your head like you were a cat. You couldn’t but mewl like one as you tried to move your hips stuffed full.

“You ready, princess? You sure about that? Because once I start, I’m not fucking finishing until I’ve got my cum spilling out of you.”

Katsuki bucked his hips upwards. You gasped, and your eyes flew wide open. Hitoshi moved forward. The tight fit of those two made you sit up slightly and grab the headboard. Your knuckles turned bone-white with how hard you gripped the carved wood. Hitoshi and Katsuki moved in tandem with each other. Katsuki’s rough hands palmed your breasts. His groping was harsher than Hitoshi’s, but you liked the feel of being so nicely abused like this. His teeth grated your stiff nipples. Katsuki pulled one into his mouth and sucked hard.

You tossed your head back. Hitoshi’s hands ran up and down your sides and all the way down your thighs. He grunted against your shoulder, murmuring how tight and wet you were for them. Grabbing some part of you, they began moving faster within you. Tears and sweat comingled on your face as you rode them both. Your ships could barely keep up with their powerful thrusts sending you into heaven. You clung to the headboard for dear life.

The sound of wet flesh slamming together resounded in your ears along with their compliments. Never had you heard such lewd things whispered or shouted at you in the heat of passion.

“There you go, Y/N. Just like that. Taking it like a pro,” said Hitoshi as he nibbled your ear. “Your first time too, I’m honored, kitty.”

Katsuki stopped suckling on your breasts long enough to groan himself. He played with your tits some more and pumped himself harder into you. His hot length reaches your cervix, making you scream.

“Oh, fuck, yeah. I love all those pretty sounds you make,” Katsuki grunted.

You couldn’t speak. At least, nothing that would be comprehensible. Words came out as a garbled mess. Your vocal cords were more preoccupied with moaning and screaming as you were rammed in both directions. Your hips moved faster. You were no longer in control of your own body, but it moved towards one goal without you. Hitoshi and Katsuki matched your speed then surpassed it. They both gripped your hips to pin them down and take full control.

“Be a good girl and let us finish you off, okay?” Said Hitoshi, and he pecked your cheek.

“Let us take care of you like a good slutty princess that you are,” said Katsuki, bruising your hips while Hitoshi grabbed your thighs.

You didn’t move but allowed them to do what they pleased. You were pressed, squeezed, and bounced on their cocks with more enthusiasm than you thought they could muster. An erratic pace was set until both of their cockheads brushed against that secret spot inside your body. You couldn’t tell which one came first, but the result was the same. As ropes of cum filled your insides, you basked the warmth of it. Searing white-hot pleasure speared down your back, reached down into your lower belly, and exploded. You could bare scream as your walls clenched around the two cocks.

Hitoshi kissed your shoulders as he pulled out with all gentleness in mind. “Very good. Yeah, just like that. Good job,” he praised.

Katsuki carefully did the same. You hissed at the emptiness after having been stretched so wide that your womb might burst. Slick cum seeped out of your cunt just like Katsuki promised. Hitoshi fetched a glass of water, and he and Katsuki helped you drink it without spilling it all over your front.

“Drink slowly, dumbass. You don’t want to make yourself sick, do you?” Katsuki griped.

After such rigorous activities, it was no wonder that all three of you landed in a sweaty yet sated pile on Katsuki’s enormous bed. Silken covers were pulled over you, while your eyelids drooped closed. Two sets of arms snaked around your waist. You were too tired to tell the boys to share. There was plenty of you to go around.

“In other news, pro-hero Ground Zero is once again under fire for yet another controversy. He was seen at the nightclub Supernova, arriving with underground hero Mind Jack. Ground Zero and Mind Jack were seen by witnesses dancing with a young woman. Some witnesses state that Ground Zero put his hand inside the woman’s clothing and performed an explicit act with her in the middle of the dance floor…”

Retired UA professor, Shouta Aizawa, stopped listening to the news report. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he wondered what he had done in a former life to deserve this.

“Goddamit,” he sighed.

—080—

EDIT: I realized just before posting there is one small continuity problem. Bakugo told Kaminari to tell Shinsou to meet him at the nightclub, but I wrote that they arrive together in Bakugo’s car. It’s going to stay like that because I’ve been trying to write this thing for hours and I’m too lazy to worry about something like that. Forgive me. Let’s just pretend that Shinsou has a car break down or something.Also, I wouldn’t necessarily label this as Bakugo x Reader x Shinsou, as that implies Bakugo x Shinsou. Not that there’s anything wrong with that ship, but I feel like they’re both Dom’s in the fan fiction canon. I’d have to see or write more interactions with them before labeling an entire chapter as previously stated. That being said, you can interpret it as polyamory anyway. I’m not going to be mad if you do.

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strawbwrry · 4 years ago

Text

fulfilled - cho seungyoun

word count : 6.3k words

includes : cupid!seungyoun, angst, fluff, lotta love, and a whole lot of character development!

@celestial-lasagna hope you enjoy it! - [starlight]

—

The concept of soulmates is a daunting one, the idea of having someone meant for you, somebody perfect for you, somewhere out in the world, is a bit difficult to think about. What happens when Cupid, the man who at the snap of his fingers could pair you up with the love of your life, falls in love himself? Does he give up on her? Or does he risk everything he has just for the possibility to be with her?

—

He snapped his fingers, in just a few moments the pair of women just across the street would begin their journey to a beautiful relation, he watched them walk right into each other, watched as their flushed faces, and fumbling hands struggled to figure out what to do, that was his tenth pairing of the day.

Life was bleak. Even with the exciting task of pairing people with their soulmates whether it be platonic, or romantic, what else was there to it? He himself could never fall in love, he could never tell any one of his friends about his secret, he would never be allowed a family, he could never work. He felt empty.All he does is set people up, walk around town and pair people he knows who fit each other well. With everything he needs being paid off by his superior, there’s nothing left for him to do. He walked around without much purpose, simply putting one foot in front of the other not caring where he ended at the end. As time passed he occasionally paired a few people, used some of the cliches, he could only smile watching each pairing’s small shy smiles and blushing faces as their first meeting occurred, watching a love begin to bloom, and as much as he hated the sense of uselessness he felt being able to do nothing, it did bring him joy watching as each pairing began their slow trek to either romance or friendship. He stared at the couple from a distance, deep within him he felt only a pang of jealousy, “No point in hopeless thinking,” he said to himself, letting his mind wander.

“What if there was a point in hopeless thinking?” He jolted away from the sudden noise beside him, placing his hand over his chest, he turned to look at the woman beside him. He looked her over briefly, beautiful hair, fluttering eyelashes, kind yet mysterious eyes, and a small smile, something deep within him felt wrong, something felt sad, and as much as he hated to do this, he ignored it. “What would the point be then?” He said through a small laugh brought on by the way he had been scared, “It shows you what your not thinking about. If you keep thinking about something you’ll never be able to do, then your ignoring the possibilities of what you could do. If you move past what you can’t do, then you can commence trying to start doing what you can.” He stared into her eyes wondering just what she knew, he felt almost read, like a book left wide open. “I guess you’re right, but how do you move on from pointless thinking and move into thinking with a purpose?” She hummed quietly to herself, fidgeting with her bag a little bit as she tried to think of a proper answer to his question, “You accept it?” She answered with a tone of uncertainty, “You either try and do what you can’t and learn from your mistakes, or accept that whatever you want to be able to do is impossible for you, and try and do or find something else your passionate about...I guess?” He grinned at the woman, “My name is Cho Seungyoun, what’s yours?” She smiled back at him, “I’m [L/N] [Y/N].”

—

“You either try and do what you can’t and learn from your mistakes, or accept that whatever you want to be able to do is impossible for you, and try and do or find something else your passionate about...I guess?” It had been nearly a week and he continued to think about her words over and over again, her voice echoing in his mind.

He paced around his apartment tidying it up, picking up abandoned singular socks, fixing up the pillows resting on his couch, picking up spare papers, placing books back into his bookshelf, then he heard his doorbell ring. Putting down the small laundry bag he’d been carrying around to put his clothes in he walked over to his door and opened it curiously, who’d come around this late at night? As he peered through the crack of his opened door he was shocked to say the least when he saw the women who’s words had been weighing on his mind for nearly a week straight. There [L/N] [Y/N] stood, at his doorstep with a suitcase in hand, and tears streaming down her face, and a scared expression plastered onto he face. “Seungyoun? I’m sorry I’ve been looking for my friend’s apartment and I can’t for the life of my seem to find it, so I decided to ask the owner of the first apartment I saw for help to her apartment, I’m so sorry.” He opened his door fully and invited her in, “Oh no! Don’t worry [Y/N], please come in and have something to eat, you look exhausted from carrying that suitcase.”

—

The room was quiet as he brought in a small plate of snacks for [Y/N], placing it before her, “Are these snacks okay? I wasn’t sure if you’d like them, but I also haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while so I don’t have much.” He stopped briefly feeling awkward before looming at her to ask, “Would you like something to drink?” She smiled picking up some of the snacks laid out on the plate and beginning to eat them as her stomach quietly grumbled, “Can I have water? If it’s not too much of a bother?” He nodded quickly heading back into the kitchen, “Of course not! One glass of water coming right up.” His feet padded against the floor of his kitchen, he continued to think about her words, even as he opened the tap to put water into her cup he could only continue to think about it, he cleared his mind as much as he could and walked back to his table which he sat on the floor across from her, and placed the cup near her, “Thank you!” Her voice chimed as she took a sip and continued to eat. “You’re welcome.” He smiled gently, “If this isn’t too invasive is it okay for me to ask why you’re carrying a suit case with you? And trying to find someone’s apartment at 2 in the morning?” He examined her reaction carefully, watching as her face’s reaction stalled and her smile faltered, it was personal. “I had to get away from someone quickly. I did the first and only thing I could think of and I asked my friend if she’d let me stay with her while I get up off my feet and can find a way to make a stable income. Not to mention find a place to live and make sure I never have to come near the person I’m trying to get away from.” Her eyes landed directly onto his, “The reason I was crying at your doorstep was because I felt as if a man was following me, you can never feel to safe out, especially this late at night.” Seungyoun nodded accordingly, “I will admit I was very shocked to see you at my door step at 2 am, but I’d love to help you find your way to your friends apartment, I’ll walk you there, especially now that you said you felt as if someone was following you.”

“Thank you so much Seungyoun! Once again I’m sorry I dropped in on you but, guess I got lucky huh?” He was taken aback by that statement, “Lucky?” He questioned with a small confused smile. She nodded finishing up the plate of snacks he’d brought her, “I don’t know anything about you besides the fact that your name is Cho Seungyoun, that theres something troubling you, and now, where you live. You let me come into your home, brought me snacks, a glass of water and awkwardly stared at your palms wondering if asking me what was wrong would be too invasive. I could’ve rung some weirdo’s bell, could’ve stumbled right into some kind of danger, but I didn’t. I got lucky.” She paused to finish the stub of water at the bottom of her glass and got up to stretch a bit, “I have her address right here, will you walk me to it?” After a short moment of waiting he instantly stood up and nodded as he began to fiddle with his clothes, he walked over to the desk near his bedroom and picked up his phone and shoved it into his back pocket. “Yeah let’s go.” They walked over to the door way of his house, she sat down on the steps to adjust her shoes, Seungyoun stood near her slipping his feet into his untied converse and beginning to tie his shoelaces quickly, and picked up his keys. She stood up and reached her hand out towards her suitcase only to be stopped by the pale hand belonging to the male besides her, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take it for you.” She shyly nodded along feeling her face become hot, “Thank you.”

They exited the apartment silently, walking side by side as Seungyoun looked at the address scribbled onto the paper, he took a left turn down the sidewalk, he then heard a sharp inhale coming from his right side and turned to see her as she quickly moved her forearm to wipe her tears away from her eyes. He stared at her and she looked at him and smiled sadly through her tears, “I’m sorry, don’t mind me, I guess I just needed to let everything go.” He sighed and let go of the suitcase placing it down on the floor and opened up his arms, “I could give you a hug if you want.” She silently looked up at him, admiring his face illuminated by the moonlight casting its gentle light upon them in the dark street. Without answering she walked into his arms and rested her head against him, gently gripping at the fabric of his thin cotton shirt as she tried her hardest to weep silently. He wrapped his arms around her and held her, gently keeping her close to him as she let it all out, he could feel her tears wetting his shirt but he didn’t care in the slightest. She trembled against him, and as much as he knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he couldn’t help it.

His eyes wandered onto the figure of a male nearby, he felt dread fill his stomach as he realized a truth that he knew would come, they were meant for each-other. He double checked, triple checked even, but he couldn’t deny what he saw, an amazing match. He felt a pair of eyes look at him, he moved his gaze down to the person wrapped in his arms and smiled, watching as their gaze went shy and she looked away. He giggled to himself and lifted his thumbs up to her face and gently wiped her tears, “Are you ready to continue?” She nodded as she shyly pulled herself away from his arms, he picked up her suitcase and again they began to walk. Seungyoun turned his head to look back at the male just across the street working at the convenience store. “I have to,” he thought to himself as he made the choice to pair them up together, his left hand snapping discreetly at his side.

She silently laughed at herself, earning a baffled stare from Seungyoun, “You must think I’m a strange person, showing up at your door crying, coming in to eat snacks and explain my personal problems, then crying into your shirt at nearly 3am while you’re helping me find my friends apartment. I must’ve looked so pathetic showing up at your door.” She continued laughing quietly, “You met me at a truly low time in my life haven’t you?” He continued walking straight knowing exactly where her friends apartment was, it just so happened to be the same building where a few of his friends lived, he let out a breathy laugh, “I guess I did didn’t I? I don’t think your pathetic. I do think that you’ve been holding all your troubles and misfortunes inside as to try and put a strong face on though. Crying isn’t weak nor pathetic, it’s always been my opinion that people who can express their emotions as needed are some of the most respectable people I’ve known. You’re going to be okay [Y/N], trust me when I say that, and if you want me there I’ll stay by your side and help you along the way.” She smiled to herself as she gently adjusted her hair from being in the way of her face, “I’d love to have you there.”

“This should be it.” Seungyoun said as he stopped right in front of a door, his right hand still lightly gripping the suitcase he’d been carrying for the entirety of the walk from his place to the apartment complex. It was a mere second before he felt her arms wrap around his neck, “Thank you so much for everything.” He hesitated for a few moment, his arms timidly wrapping themselves around her waist. As her grip around his neck loosened his arms began to fall, letting one hand barely ghosting near the left side of her waist. He felt butterflies in his stomach when she leaned in and placed a small kiss on his cheek, she let go and gave a small smile, “I’d give you my phone number but I don’t currently have a phone.” Though his cheeks now red he laughed at her words, his arm falling down to his side then coming back up to run through his hair he looked at her smiling, “Well if you ever need anything you could come to my place, just, not at 2am.” She giggled in response, he found himself laughing along with her, a silent affection beginning to grow deep inside his heart much to his knowledge that this would only ever end badly. “Well I think it’s time for you to wake up your friend, and for me to head back home.” She nodded, “Thank you for everything Seungyoun.” He smiled sadly as he tried not to think of the sad reality, “It’s no problem. Bye [Y/N]!” He began to walk, his hands shoved into his front pockets as he took steady strides, he looked back to see her waving, “Bye Seungyoun!” He smiled and waved before ruffling his hair and shoving his hand back into his front pocket. He turned back just one last time feeling happy to see her friends door open and [Y/N] hug her friend tightly and enter into her apartment. He felt his smile fade from his lips as he let the moment pass.

—

“Are you going to go through with it?” Seungyoun felt a chill come down his back at the sudden noise coming from besides me, “Of course I’m not going to Myungja, do you think I’m that stupid? The only reason I’m still alive is because of this stupid job if you can even call it that,” he stopped in his tracks and turned his head, a small smile placed onto his lips, though it didn’t convey happiness, “I don’t want to drag [Y/N] into this mess Myungja. If I do end up falling in love with her, then you can just kill me right then and there and replace me just like you did with the last when he fell in love. Leave her out of this.” His smile faded, “You know, I only begged you to come back so I could watch over my mom, now that she’s gone I could care less whether I live or die.” The ghostly figure of the woman behind him sighed angrily, “Shouldn’t you be more appreciative that I even gave you the chance to watch over your mom till she died?” Seungyoun scoffed as he kicked small pebbles resting on the sidewalk, “Please I wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t killed me to begin with.” She inhaled sharply who which Seungyoun laughed, “What didn’t think I’d find out? I’m not dumb I know very well where you’re from and what you’ve done. How youve tortured your descendants and prey on men who remind you of your very own lovers from long ago.”

“Not to mention how you terrified your daughters, left then left to brutally kill your husband and his new girlfriend early in the morning. Sure you made me a cupid because I look just like the man who impregnated you then left, cause you wanted to cause me pain, cause I remind you of the daughter that you think caused all your pain, but get over yourself, you never had a soulmate.“

—

Two months of knowing [Y/N], it had been two months of knowing her, and he knew he was falling in love, each moment, whether she came to simply talk about how their weeks have been, or came to cry on his shoulder about her fear of the future, or even if it was her confiding her deepest secrets in him, he loved every second he spent with her. He deeply enjoyed each fluttering moment, the moments he felt incredibly warm at just her touch, all the time he spent admiring her when she was unaware, the moment he’d catch her staring at him, every single moment. This night she just so happened to comeback drunk, a silly smile plastered onto her face as she stumbled, the grip onto her purse loose, Seungyoun watched her walk excitedly in front of him, he had just returned from a small walk to fulfill his daily cupid tasks only to come back to see [Y/N] heading right for his door, she stopped right in front. She took a deep breath then rung on the door, he came from behind her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder as he slid his key into the keyhole and felt her tense up beneath his hand, “Don’t worry [Y/N], it’s just me.” She reached up to grab his hand placed onto her shoulder to throw his arm across her shoulders, “Can I have something to eat Seungyoun?” He laughed smiling at her odd behavior, “Of course, come on go in [Y/N].”

After removing her shoes and laying her bag by her shoes, she plopped herself onto the floor near the small coffee table placed on the floor, “Ramen please!” Seungyoun laughed, “Your wish is my command.”

—

He giggled softly as her head began to droop after finishing her ramen, “[Y/N] go lay down on the couch and sleep I’ll wash your plate.” Reaching his arms across the table he gently picked up the plate, and stood up, walking towards the sink and set it at the bottom. His right hand got the sponge and his left picked up the soap, and so he began washing the plate, letting the warm water fall, his attention focused purely on the bowl in front of him which is why he was taken aback at the arms that suddenly wrapped around his waist, and the sudden warmth behind him. “[Y/N] go to sleep you’re tired.” She let out a grunt in disagreement, “But you’re warm.” He sighed and finished washing the dish and placing it onto the dish rack, and quickly washed off the chopsticks, once again placing them into the dish rack. He dried his hands off on a small rag beside the sink and turned around to hug [Y/N], gently patting her back as he let his own back press up against the edge of the sink. “I’m tired.” He laughed at her small voice, “Yes, I know. Come on I’ll walk you over to my bed so you can rest. I’ll be in the living room don’t worry.”

—

His eyes wandered over the sight for just a bit smiling at how your hands tightly held onto the bedsheets in your sleep, moving every so often, he gently adjusted the blanket then stood up and left his bedroom, leaving the door open just a smidge. He plopped himself onto the floor and rested his head onto his arms placed upon the coffee table. Letting out a breath he’d been holding in for a while, in a sudden gust of air moving through his living room he inhaled sharply, “What do you want?” The ghost sat besides him laughed, “You’re so rude Seungyounnie.”

“Please never call me that ever again.” She rolled her eyes and paced through the room walking through him, causing chills to go straight up his spine, “You’ve really let the place go haven’t you?” He lifted his head up and turned his face to her, “Get to the point already. You’re stalling and it’s annoying the hell out of me.”

“Feisty aren’t we?” She paused before walking towards him and taking his chin between her thumb and pointer finger, “Have you made a choice yet?” His eyes shifted away from her and he pulled his face away from her grip, “Yes. I have, but you know what?” She grinned evilly, her mouth twisting into a smile that’d strike fear in anyone’s heart, “What?”

“I don’t plan on telling you what my choice is. At the end of the day would it change anything for you to know what my plans are? No matter what my fate is in your hands, so I guess you’ll just have to patiently wait to see what happens.” He gave her a small smile, “Thank you for a second chance at life, for letting me fulfill my final wish, and even giving me the chance to experience love. I’m afraid it’s time for you to go since she’s starting to wake up.” He watched the shocked figure begin to fade away, then gently rested his head onto his arms again. “I guess all I have left is to accept it.”

“Accept what?” He turned his head to meet eyes with [Y/N], now very awake, and very sober, “Don’t worry about it [Y/N]. Does your head hurt?” His eyes stayed trained on her, letting himself have this one last day, letting himself smile happily for one last time. “It hurts a little bit but, it’s fine.” Her head rested on his shoulder and her hand gently grabbed onto his arm, “Seungyoun, could I talk to you about something?” She turned her head up and was shocked to see his face so close to hers but paid it no mind as her eyes bored into his, “What do you want to talk about [Y/N]?”

“There’s this guy I met, his name is Wooseok, and he asked me out on a date and I told him I’d give him a response after I thought it over for a bit. There’s only one thing stopping me from going out on the date, and how do I say this,” She paused her face growing hot from the close distance of their faces, she suddenly turned away, “Its you. Can you tell me what we are? I just— I really like him, but I really like you and I just wanted to talk about it with you.” Seungyoun smiled sadly remembering that late night when he made the difficult decision of pairing her up with the guy working very near them at the convenience store that was placed just across from them. “[Y/N] I love you,” Her face whipped over to stare at him, her eyes filled with confusion, “But, I really think you should go on that date. I think that it’s something you should do.” He lifted his free hand and gently placed it onto her jaw, he rested his forehead on hers and laughed to himself as he tried keeping his tears from falling, “I’ll go on the date, but before I say goodbye to this, to us, can I kiss you just once Seungyoun?” He let his tears fall freely as he nodded, he twisted his face and let her lips fall onto his, just once. He smiled softly into the kiss, feeling a moment of total complete and utter joy having her for just a moment. For just that moment he felt warm, he felt a love he’d never felt before. He pulled apart from her, it was very brief kiss really, but within that short while he let all his feeling go, he let go of his selfish desire to love someone. He knew the first second he met her he’d never be the same, but as he let his tears fall when she moved her head to rest on his chest, he knew one thing. He’d never regret this.

—

He sat on a park bench waiting, his hand busy mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, that is till he heard a footsteps approaching him. It’d been nearly two years since he’d seen [Y/N], he’d been traveling a lot and she’d been busy with work, her home, and her boyfriend. They stayed friends of course, weekly phone calls, and a FaceTime in which he got to meet her boyfriend. He was a very handsome man, brown hair, sparkling brown eyes, pink lips, the man by all means looked perfect. That wasn’t what Seungyoun liked though, he enjoyed the louving look glazed over his eyes when he looked at [Y/N], he didn’t exactly seem the most open, but Seungyoun rested easy at night knowing [Y/N] had someone in her life that loved her. That in of itself was enough for him.

He looked up from his phone to see [Y/N], the same beautiful smile plastered onto her lips just like all the afternoons spent over his coffee table laughing over unimportant things, his heart fluttered. He stood up and went to give her a hug, grinning ear to ear when they pulled apart, “It’s so good to see you Seungyoun!” His wise smile still stuck to his face he giggled,”It’s so great to see you too [Y/N]!”

—

“Waaaah your engagement ring is so pretty, when did he propose [Y/N]? And why didn’t he ask for my approval?” She laughed from across the table, “Well that’s actually why I wanted to meet up with you, I wanted to invite you to our wedding!” Seungyoun smiled happily, his hand barely holding onto her as he examined her ring, “I’d love to attend your wedding [Y/N], when you know send me the date, time, location, and dress code because I’m absolutely going,” he let her hand go and chuckled, “I’ll even buy myself a nice suit to go.” The silence that followed was tense, he was happy, she was happy, yet something lingered in the air, an unknown sense of discomfort.

“I never told him about us, I only told him you’re one of my best friends. You don’t have to be on edge Seungyoun.” He stared into her eyes, “There’s something you’re not telling me, what do you want to ask [Y/N]?” He cursed himself internally, he changed the subject totally ignoring her words, she saw right through him. “You know me too well Seungyoun,” She smiled rather shyly, “I don’t have anyone to walk me down the aisle, and I was wondering if you’d do me the favor of walking me down the aisle the day of my wedding.” She looked up and was met with his shocked face, “Of course you don’t have to do it! I was just wondering since— There’s no one in my family to do the job and I want someone important to me to walk me down the aisle. So I couldn’t think of anyone else besides you to do it.” Seungyoun smiled, his hand once again met hers and held it lightly, he then locked her fingers with his and held her hand firmly, “I’d be honored to have such a job on the day of your wedding. Of course I’ll do it [Y/N]! I was just a little bit shocked you’d want me to do that on your wedding day.” Her hand tightened, gripping back at his hand, “I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”

—

Seungyoun’s hands nervously adjusted his suit, he tightened his tie, and anxiously stuck his hands into his pockets, “Thank you so much for doing this for [Y/N].” His head whipped back to meet with the shorter man’s eyes, he smiled, “It’s an honor to walk her down the aisle Wooseok. Please take care of her. You’ll never find anyone quite like her.” Wooseok smiled shyly, “I’m really lucky to say I’m getting married to her aren’t I?” Seungyoun chuckled softly and moved to stand right in front of Wooseok, they’d become friends in the recent months and truthfully it made Seungyoun happy, gave him peace of mind knowing Wooseok. He placed both his hands on his shoulders and grinned, “Very lucky. Treat her well. Or else.” He lightly shook his shoulders and the both of them laughed as he let go of his shoulders, “Seungyoun! [Y/N] wants to see you!” One of her bridesmaids yelled from the door of where the men were getting ready, he gave Wooseok a parting smile and wink then walked to the door, he walked besides her as they ended up at room where the bride and her bridesmaids were getting ready. As he stepped into the door he instinctively bowed before looking up and seeing [Y/N], his eyes gazed upon the sight of [Y/N] in her gown, he felt his eyes water as soon as he saw her. He walked closer to her being careful of her gown as he went in to give her a hug, he let himself cry a little bit as he felt his heart ache in his chest. “She’s okay.”

“You made the right choice Seungyoun, she’s okay Seungyoun,” he repeated to himself over and over again, trying to drill it into his head that his choice was right, upon feeling [Y/N] begin to shake in his arms he pulled apart to see tears gently brimming at her eyes which he instantly began to gently dab at her eyes, “I’m so in love with her.” She began to laugh, “I don’t know why Seungyoun but I just felt so sad when I hugged you.” He chuckled looking at her affectionately, “Are you ready to get married?” She smiled at him, “I will admit I originally never even intended in getting back into a relationship. I’m here now and even if I was having cold feet earlier, I want to get married to Wooseok, I really do. I will admit though, I wish things between us had gone differently.” She stood up and neared her lips to his cheek and placed a chaste kiss to the area just below his cheekbone, “Nevertheless Seungyoun I’m happy everything played out how it did. Even if nothing happened between us I’m convinced we’re soulmates. Just simply platonic soulmates.” He chuckled shyly feeling a blush come up to his cheeks, and then moved his hands, he took her hands into his and smiled, “You know what [Y/N], maybe your right.”

—

It was starting, the moment was starting, Seungyoun laughed at the nervous expression plastered onto his face, “You look beautiful.” She smiled widely and linked her arm with his and was handed her bouquet, “Seungyoun I love you. Thank you for doing this.” He smiled gently flicking her shoulder with his free hand, “Stop thanking me, I’m honored to be important enough to have such a role at your wedding,” they began to walk, “Its now or never [Y/N].”

He led her outside and the flower girl began to walk, the doors were opened for them and with their arms linked they began their slow walk down to where Wooseok was. As they walked in he smiled proudly at the quiet whispers talking about the bride’s beauty. With each step they took Seungyoun’s heart got heavier. Dread gathered at the base of his throat but as he looked at Wooseok and saw his eyes become shiny as tears built up in his eyes, as his eyes stayed focused on [Y/N], staring at her like the only woman in the world he felt a sense of happiness wash over him. Though painful, as they neared he let the link between their elbows break, he gave her a gentle hug, and turned to Wooseok and whispered quietly, “Cherish her.” He nodded lovingly as his hands took hers after she handed her bouquet over to her maid of honor. “I will.”

Seungyoun sat down on his seat, “She’ll be just fine Seungyoun.”

—

Seungyoun excitedly rushed down the hall, in his hands were two bouquets of flowers and a small balloon entangled around the larger of the two bouquets. He had once again began back on his life of traveling around the world paring people up with the lives of their life at the snap of his fingers, but chose to focus on one type of soulmates, platonic soulmates. He felt anticipation build up in his chest as he pushed open the door of the hospital room his best friend sat in, as he opened the door he was greeted by the sight of an exhausted Wooseok fast asleep on the chair besides the hospital bed, and [Y/N] gently cradling a baby girl in her arms. She grinned up at him, “You came so quick! I thought you were across the world just two days ago?” He chuckled walking closer to her to place his hand on her head to gently mess up her hair, “Well when your best friend tells you they’re going into labor, you get on a plane as soon as you can and make sure you get there to meet your new niece.”

“You’re incredible Seungyoun. Why did you buy two bouquets of flowers?” He gently leaned into closer to the baby, looking at the small baby girl in her arms fondly, “I wanted to be the first man to buy her flowers.” [Y/N] smiled looking at the beautiful flowers now placed besides the other small gifts brought by some of her other friends, “Well I’m happy to announce you’re the first man to buy her flowers.” He chuckled softly as he felt his heart burst when the small baby began to smile at him, “She’s adorable [Y/N].”

“Do you want to hold her?” He nodded, he pulled off his jacket and placed it on the smaller chair in the room afraid the material of his jacket would be to rough, he then neared [Y/N] being careful with the baby’s head. The baby was small, she gently squirmed as she was transferred from one person to another, cradling the baby was an experience Seungyoun never expected to feel. He adjusted his arms ever so slightly and was pleased to see the little girl begin to get sleepy, when he lifted his head to inform her mother he smiled fondly seeing [Y/N] who had just been awake now fast asleep. With both parents fast asleep Seungyoun couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. He moved to sit down on the chair where he’d hung his jacket, he gently rocked the little girl watching as her eyelids closed and soft noises escaped her mouth, “Oh honey the wonderful things I could say about your mother,” he giggled, “It’s Uncle Seungyounnie, I didn’t think I could love anyone more than your mother, but now that I look at you all I want to do is protect you from all the evil of the world. I’ll be the best Uncle I can be. I promise you that honey.”

—

“Angel, hold onto my hand tightly!” The little girl tightened her grip onto her uncle’s hand, “Your mommy and daddy would kill me if you got lost.” She smiled, “Seungyounnie will you win me that monkey?” Seungyoun turned his head to look at the monkey hung up on the game booth stall, “Of course!” The little girl excitedly let go of his hand and ran towards the stall, Seungyoun sat on the stool placed in front of the water squirter then picked up the girl and sat her on his lap, “Angel watch this.” He grinned placing his money down, a teen, two dads, and a little kid joined the game right after, he smiled widely watching what looked like stars twinkle in her eyes as she look at the monkey, “1, 2, 3 DING!” The game had started and Seungyoun had no intention of losing, his eyes focused on the target, smiling widely when the water continuously hit the center point, “DING DING DING!” “Player three! What prize would you like?” Seungyoun grinned happily then watched as the little girl happily pointed towards the monkey, as she took the small monkey into her arms and cuddled it she left forward placing a happy kiss onto his nose, “I love you Seungyounnie!”

He never really had a reason, from the moment he died till the moment he was brought back he’d felt empty. As his eyes gazed upon the little girl who meant so much to him he felt a longing deep in inside his heart fill up with a kind of joy he’d never felt before. His love for the little girl was indescribable, Seungyoun was convinced this little girl would change lives some day, just like she’d came into his and changed his life. He felt fulfilled.

“I love you too my little angel.”

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years ago

Text

Rough Drafts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of a murder scene, argument, angst, and cursing.

A/N: Okay, so I know I said I was gonna publish this yesterday but I got Cassandra Clare’s newest book and I couldn’t put it down. I seriously love that lady. Omg. Anyways, it’s here now! And it’s angsty! And there’s gonna be a fourth part soon I promise! For real. Don’t forget to reblog, comment, send me an ask or a message and overall just adore me so that I may continue to feel good about myself. As always thank you for supporting me and I hope you enjoy!!!

[ Part One | Part Two ]

___

An incredulous laugh bursts from your lips, your nails cutting crescent moons into the palms of your hands as you try and convince yourself that this isn’t actually happening.

“Do you have alibis for your whereabouts on Monday, June eighth, Saturday, June thirteenth, and Thursday, June eighteenth?” Spencer can see your leg bouncing rapidly under the table, your eyes flying over the pictures and the expression of Emily Prentiss. You seem genuine, but he can’t trust himself to get an accurate read of you anymore.

“I, uhm, I- I wouldn’t know off the top of my head. I keep a planner, I’ll forget things otherwise.” The burst of iron in your mouth is not something you’re unused to, having chewed your cheek so badly that the skin there has broken under your teeth.

“We’ll need to see that.” Emily isn’t sure whether or not she believes that you’re guilty, watching the way you seem to unravel before her. When you look at the crime scene photos, it isn't with any pleasure, but with disgust. Your nose wrinkles a little at the bridge and you keep looking away as the blood from your face starts to drain.

Either you’re a really good actress or you aren’t the unsub.

Emily says as much as she flips through the small teal planner that you’d willingly given them. Due dates for chapters, publishing events, book signings and days for book tours fill most of the pages in your most neat handwriting. Dates you plan to go visit your mother, grocery shop, doctor’s appointments, even plans to go somewhere and write.

Everything is explicitly stated, that way you’re never unsure of what you meant to tell yourself. That is, until around three weeks ago when a handful of days are notated with an ‘S,’ followed by a random doodle. Sometimes it’s a tiny heart drawn absentmindedly while you discuss the plans over the phone, other times it’s a cartoon bunny or a top hat.

Garcia is the first to take notice of it, her fingers faltering in their constant thrum against the keyboard in front of her. She glances out of the side of her glasses, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Looks like lonely girl found herself a boo.”

“That makes sense,” JJ says from the chair she’s pulled into Penelope’s office from the bullpen. A pen is stretched between her hands, her posture relaxed into the curve of the stiff, government-issued rolly chair.

All the girls have gathered into the tech analyst’s room while the men take turns interrogating you. Well, all except Spencer. He just stands behind that window watching your every move with eyes like a hawk. “What doesn’t make sense is why she keeps it secret even in her personal planner.”

“Maybe she has a stalker? That could be who is doing all this?”

“Then she wouldn’t keep careful notation of everything else going on in her life. A stalker would follow her every move, not just her romantic interests. Even if he is in love with her.”

“A partner, maybe? Like the days they planned the murders or days they were acted out?”

“None of the days line up with the crimes, save for this one,” Emily leans the book toward the two women with her finger just underneath June fifth, the day Alison Crane was abducted from outside her campus dorm room. It’s the third ‘S’ scribbled into the corner of a day in the entire book.

“And there is nothing else written in relation to this ‘S’ character?” JJ shakes her head, looking for any clues that could be nestled among the loops and curls of your writing. Reid would be better at this, he was the graphology expert among them. So why wasn’t he back here helping?

“Then I guess we better try and get her to talk about it. Meanwhile Garcia, we’ll get Rossi and Reid to head over to her apartment and you can hack into her computer?” Penelope spins the chair, a flash of bright colors and blond hair. She clicks her tongue in response, throwing up a fingers gun and winking.

“Whatever you need me to do, I’m on it like sexy on Derek Morgan stepping out of the shower in a towel.”

After some arguing, and maybe just a little bit of pleading, they manage to convince Reid to join Rossi on a trip to your apartment. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, standing in your living room. Not because he’d been here before, but because he’d never been here before.

The empty mugs that litter every surface, smelling of old coffee and your favorite coffee creamer (he only knows it’s your favorite because you explicitly ask for that creamer at every coffee shop the two of you have ever gone to), is unfamiliar to him. He’s invited you to his apartment at least three times. How come he had never been to yours?

Small pages and notebooks of scribbled ideas and dialogues cover just as many areas as the coffee cups do, your handwriting messy and cramped in every note. It’s almost like you couldn’t get the idea out of your head fast enough.

The bed in your room is meticulously made without a wrinkle in sight, but that could be because of the obvious bed you’ve made yourself along the salmon pink couch that stretches out in front of your TV. A multicolored crochet blanket is thrown haphazardly over the back, a pillow still slightly squished against the arm.

On the coffee table is a half opened laptop, a notebook with red and black ink scribbled in the lines, and a still full cup of coffee. Rossi makes quick work of calling Garcia and helping her get patched into your computer. It’s strange, watching her move the mouse on your screen from miles away.

Reid never stops moving, walking the length of your studio apartment with his eyes peeled for any kind of information he could find. It’s obvious that you spend most of your time in the main room, which houses the kitchen, a small dining area, and the living room. A door leading into your room branches off to a small bathroom which is just as disorganized as everything else in your house.

Hair products, skin washes, and all kinds of makeup are scattered across the sink and back of your toilet. It’s funny because every time he’s ever met up with you, you’re bare faced and your hair is still drying from the shower you took before leaving your house. The tube of lipstick he picks up makes him think he doesn’t really know you at all.

On the nightstand in your room is a bottle of water with the label ripped off and the two Rossi books you’d bought that fateful day in the bookstore. The label from the water bottle is stuck between the middle pages of one of the books. The passages in question don’t lend anything to connecting you as a homicidal maniac, let alone a serial killer.

Back in the living room, Garcia is snooping through every aspect of your computer.

“I don’t know whether or not the be freaked out by her web history. There’s a lot of murder-y questions here. ‘Signs of a post mortem amputation,’ ‘How much blood can you lose and still live?,’ ‘Most brutal ways to be killed.’ It’s creepy.” Rossi is flicking through the notebook from the table, his eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of the abbreviations and scribblings of another writer.

“She writes crime novels so it isn’t entirely strange for her to be looking at those types of things.” Thankfully, the defense of your web search history comes from the older man who looks up as Garcia delves deeper and deeper. Spencer had thought it first, but hadn’t said anything to avoid suspicion. He’s smart enough to know that the truth has to come out eventually, but he wants to be sure of your innocence (or guilt, he reminds himself a bit glumly) before he reveals your link to him.

“I’m not seeing anything she could be using to contact a partner unless her partner is one of the publishing people she’s constantly messaging via email.” At this Spencer stops, leaning against the back of the couch with his weight resting on the heels of his hands. The stance appears relaxed. He is anything but.

“Why do we assume she has a partner?” Reid asks, impatiently pushing a stray curl away from his face. Rossi glances at him curiously, otherwise undistracted from the shake the movement gives the couch.

“Oh, Prentiss, JJ, and I were looking through her little teal book earlier and the only thing not explicitly stated was just the letter ‘S.’ It’s why they came back to interrogate and they sent you guys to her house. I thought they told you.”

Spencer wants to beat his head against the wall.

“That isn’t a lead, Garcia. You have to tell them that ‘S’ isn’t her partner.” The mouse on the computer screen falters, several saved documents for different rough drafts of books or drabbles are pulled up the way you might have papers scattered about in front of you.

“What is it? Do you know who ‘S’ is?” Rossi is turned sideways on the couch, looking over the back and up at the distressed man in front of him. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots when they make eye contact. Penelope impatiently whines over the phone.

“I’m ‘S,’ I’ve been seeing her for the last three weeks. I’m sure if you tell me the dates then every single one of them will be days that we’ve had plans together.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Before anyone has the chance to say anything else, the door to Garcia’s office opens and a second voice filters through Rossi’s phone speaker. It’s JJ.

“Let Reid and Rossi know there’s just been another murder.”

This time it’s a fifteen year old girl. Her hair is black and wet, her lips are as blue as the sky, and she’s naked. Water droplets from her skin have soaked into the sheet of paper that was layed over her chest. The bathtub she’s in is completely empty, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that she was drowned there. The bruises on her shoulders from the force the unsub used to pin her down are dark against the contrast of her already pale skin.

...The man leaned over the tub, his eyes squinted in thought and his lips skewed a little to the side. Ryder stayed focused on the crime scene, for the most part. But even detectives of her caliber, and higher, could easily get lost in the eyes that look up at her from beneath long golden-brown lashes.

“Detective?” She blinks the distraction away, looking back at the girl, her black hair wet and spiraling like the snakes on Medusa’s head against the ivory siding of the drained tub. Ryder can’t help but wish the girl had been lucky enough to turn her killer to stone. Maybe it would have saved her.

“Agent.” She crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man across from her, pretending to look for any useful clues. Ryder had gotten to the crime scene fourty-five minutes before the pair of FBI Agents had walked in. The man, who had introduced himself as Supervisory Special Agent Matthew Gray, had decided to join her in the second floor bathroom. His partner, a woman named Katherine Swift, had taken to looking for clues through the rest of the house.

Agent Gray is beautiful. It’s the only adjective that seems to stick to him with certainty, every other aspect of his personality just as elusive as the exact color of those eyes. Even as short as his hair is, the golden brown tendrils are unkempt and curl every which way. Ryder has to force her hand to stay at her side and not reach up to smooth an alfalfa that does nothing for the serious expression on his face.

She keeps imagining what it would feel like if he reached out to kiss her, curling his fingers into her hair and bringing her unworthy lips up to meet his. He’s tall so she would probably have to stretch a little, but she wouldn’t mind. Not when his hands are tangled in her hair and he’s giving her the kiss she’s been silently begging for since the moment he flashed that crooked grin at her.

The imagination is so vivid that she jumps when her own partner, Detective Russo, comes around the corner of the hallway and straight into the bathroom...

The paper crinkles in the evidence bag as Morgan places it on the table, trying to ignore the daggers being glared into him on the other side of the mirror.

Nobody on the team had been very happy with Spencer when they heard the news about your relationship, Hotch had nearly snatched him by the scruff of his neck when he made to go into the interrogation room. But after several minutes of thoroughly explaining himself, Hotch had sent Morgan in. To say Spencer was infuriated was an understatement.

“Do you know what this is, (Y/N)?” You look down at it, twisting the evidence bag so that you could read the Times New Roman font you always wrote in when writing in Microsoft Word. The words cover the front and back of the copy paper, but you don’t have to read it through all the way before you know what it is.

“It’s a page from my newest book.” The bag scratches against the tabletop as you push it away from you, crossing your arms over your chest. Your face is stoplight red with embarrassment at the thought of Spencer reading this page, mostly because you had pulled so heavily from your own thoughts when first meeting Spencer to write Ryder and Gray’s first meeting. You created Matthew Gray to write about Spencer Reid in a way that felt less ‘high school diary entry.’

“More specifically, it’s from the book you just started working on about a month ago. The one that only you and your agent have access to.” Finally, Morgan sits. Before, he’d just been pacing around you the way a lioness might stalk around her prey before she launches an attack. It made you uneasy, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

“Do you know where we found it, (Y/N)?” His muscles bulge against his shirtsleeves when he leans them up on the table. Derek Morgan is a very attractive man, you’ll give him that, but if making you uneasy and putting you in the room with a attractive man to fluster you was their strategy then they should have sent in Spencer.

“My computer.”

“We found it on the body of a dead girl.” Another picture joins the ones already shuffled around the table. You can barely look at it, nausea and tears building in your throat at the sight of another person dying the same way you’d written in a story. When you don’t respond, Morgan continues.

“‘She was found at the bottom of an empty bathtub, a pale leg hooked over the edge of the porcelain siding, and her arms pinned to her sides in death. Bruises discolored the skin at her shoulders, and Ryder knew at first glance that her cause of death would be asphyxiation by drowning.’” He drops the paper back to the table, having picked it up to read the passage from the end of the page.

“That’s wrong,” You say, leaning back over the table to look at the paper again. Derek looks down, like the words might have changed in the moment he looked away, but the text stays exactly the same as before.

“That’s exactly what is written here.” You shake your head, pulling the bag back to you and wrinkling your forehead in thought.

“I don’t doubt that is what you read, Agent Morgan,” Your eyes fly over the page, reading the end of the excerpt with overwhelming relief. The bag sticks a little to the pad of your index finger as you tap over the paragraph in question. “But I rewrote this scene only two nights ago. It’s on my computer, I’m sure your tech analyst can confirm my claim. This girl, Bella, she doesn’t die from drowning anymore. Her hands are tied above her head to the faucet and she’s strangled. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be by her sister or her girlfriend.”

JJ rushes back to Penelope’s office, on a mission to confirm your statement just as you had suggested. Meanwhile, Morgan’s mind is rushing to figure out the mess he is currently sat in. You lean back in your chair now, unsure if the dizziness you feel is from lack of food or the sudden realization that they couldn’t pin this to you anymore.

“I’m not your bad guy. If I was doing this to prove to my mother that my writing is good, that I chose the right career, as your profile says, I wouldn’t change the scene in my book and not change the murder.” In Morgan’s earpiece, Hotch tells him that you were telling the truth about editing the scene two nights ago.

“Unless you planned it to throw us off track. We know about your relationship with Spencer, you’ve probably found out all kinds of things to do to keep us from catching you.”

You clench your teeth, straightening into your chair and pinning Derek down with a look you’d learned from your mother. It makes him think of his mom, your eyes narrowed and your gaze so cold that it could cause frostbite. He watches curiosily as you tilt your chin up a little, trying to hide the pricks behind your eyes and the wobble of your lip. Derek notices them, the entire team notices. They’re trained to notice.

“I want a lawyer.” You say simply, you voice is sharp and quiet but it does the job of slicing through the tension already building in the room.

“Come on, you don’t need a lawyer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong again, Agent Morgan. I do need a lawyer. Because even though I have full-heartedly trusted the justice system since I was in diapers, and even though I came to these offices willing to help your team in any way that I could, you are still trying to use me as a scapegoat instead of actually doing your fucking job and finding the bastard who is killing people in my name.

“A study from criminal law bulletin says that 10,000 people are wrongfully convicted of serious crimes every year. One in every twenty-five people sentenced to death are innocent, Agent Morgan. Just since 1973, more than 160 people were exonerated from the death penalty. That’s not even counting the people who were killed. But you sure as hell aren’t about to make me apart of that statistic because you want to waste your time trying to piece an investigation around me. That’s not how you’re supposed to do your job. So until you can remember how to do it correctly, I do need a lawyer. Thank you.”

By the time you finish you’ve leaned over the table, your index finger jammed into the wood to make your point. It feels like your chest is on fire as you slam back into your seat and cross your arms, determined to keep your silence for the rest of the time you were forced to sit here.

Everyone on the opposite side of the mirror is stunned into silence, their eyes focused on you even as Derek gathers all the things from the desk and walks out looking a little flustered himself. If Spencer was totally honest, your outburst was actually kind of hot. He has to remind himself that you may have killed eight people in cold blood.

Your lawyer makes it to the BAU in record time, his red hair expertly gelled back from his face. His icy blue eyes only cracking when he sees you sitting by yourself in the interrogation room. Spencer can tell by the way that he lowers himself on the balls of his feet to talk to you, reaching out to touch the hand that sits on your thigh, that he knows you personally. He likes you, actually. Spencer tried to tell himself that it doesn’t make him glad when you pull your hand out of his and awkwardly pat his arm.

He’s been lying to himself a lot today.

Hotch is the one to go back in the room, he was the best at dealing with lawyers. Unfortunately his best wasn’t enough to keep you in custody and soon your lawyer, who Spencer learned was named Jeremy, was walking you out of the room for the first time in six hours.

Your back cracks when you stand, your shoulders rolling back to try and ease some of the stress you’d been holding there since this morning. The sound of the door swinging open for you is almost heavenly, the feel of the air outside of the room is damn near enough to make you cry.

When you look to the side, ready to leave out the second door that leads into the hallway and away from this mess, you meet eyes with the only profiler of the BAU that you hadn’t seen that day. Spencer looks back at you with an expression that you find hard to put into words.

He almost looks sorry, the regret evident in the slight widening of his eyes, but at the same time his chin is tilted up like he is facing an enemy he has vowed to take down no matter the cost. His shoulders are squared, but his arms are uncrossed and his palms are open.

And even though you knew you wouldn’t be there without him knowing, the reassurance that Spencer knew and even suspected you is like a blow to the chest and stomach. It robs you of air, causing you to stumble.

Jeremy reaches to steady you. You shake him off, pulling your eyes from the young doctor and focusing all of your attention on the door knob.

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” Your tone of voice is more harsh than you intended but you’re still struggling to collect oxygen, even when you slide into your car by yourself, it feels like you can’t get enough air. The walk from the BAU offices to the parking lot had passed in a blur. Jeremy’s talk about staying at home and keeping your head low had gone by even faster, and now that you have time to truly be by yourself, everything hits like a ton of bricks thrown at you from a speeding train.

In the midst of your panic attack, gasping for air into the palms of your shaking hands, questioning everything about yourself and your career, you don’t register the shuffle of movement in your backseat. You’re so deep in your mind that you almost don’t notice the cool press of a gun barrel against the back of your neck until a familiar voice lifts your head from your hands.

“Drive.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #dr spence reid #spence reid #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds

762 notes · View notes

chiwhorei · 4 years ago

Text

a cigarette between friends

pairing: k. ukai x fem!reader

word count: 3.4k

genre: angst, implied smut, 18+ minors dni

warnings: implied smut, no actual sex scene; death of a parent; fwb; cursing; smoking; drinking; characters are 18 i do not, would not, and will not write minors

hymns: mover awayer by hobo johnson, it ends tonight by all-american rejects, and closing time by: semisonic

After the ceremony ends, even just a few hours removed, the reality of adulthood starts to settle uncomfortably in both of their chests. This would be the night that changes everything.

“I have to say it.” They both think to themselves and brace for the impact this night is bound to bring.

Ukai Keishin and Sawamura y/n sit on the roof of y/n’s house and watch the sky melt from pink to deep purple. They should be out with friends or family, rejoicing in the freedom that graduation has brought them, but neither have many friends anyway. Not ones worth more than this rooftop and the view above them. “Cheers, Kei. We’re celebrating.” She says grabbing a pack of cigarettes and lighter from the windowsill behind her. She rolls her big, doey eyes and smacks the bottom of the box. She lights one and passes it to him after a few puffs. “Volleyball is over, one cigarette won’t fucking kill you.” She was wrong. That one cigarette would stop his fucking heart every time he watched her take a drag. The way she talks with it bobbing between her teeth was just as intoxicating as the six-pack of beer next to them.

Never has the tension between them been so thick. There are words hanging like nooses from her tongue, but for the first time in her life y/n couldn’t say what was on her mind. Ukai is always on the receiving end of the sharp comment shooting off of her lips, and he always dishes back what is served. The more they hurl verbal weapons, the closer they are pulled together. There was a magnet impeded in each respective skull and they always come crashing into one another.

If anyone ever saw them together- or caught them together- during school or before Volleyball practice, they were fighting. The steam rising from both parties was palpable whenever they were within ten feet of each other. No one knew what it was like in these moments, though. No one knew what the pair was like behind a closed door or on top of a roof. They were truly inseparable.

The only times y/n is quiet is when sucking on Ukai’s tongue.

It goes one of a few ways with Ukai Keishin and Sawamura y/n. There are plenty of late-night booty calls or summoning each other out of pure boredom. Most often, however, their screaming matches end in hate fucking. That’s how this all started anyway.

“Maybe if you could take your head out of your ass, Ukai, we would be able to finish this project without ripping each other’s throats out.” She whispers at him in an even tone, glaring across the table they share at the library.

Being in the same classes was already grating on both of them. Whatever subject, they would be at odds. Constantly prolonging class discussions just to try to win the competition they created for themselves.

Ukai didn’t actually care to debate the meaning of Cordelia's death in King Lear, but since Y/n had an opinion he surely wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to piss her off. This fighting came to a head when they were paired together for a literature project at the beginning of their third year. Everyone around them braced for impact when the pairs were assigned, realizing the cluster-fuck about to unfold.

“And maybe you could take the stick out of your ass.” He grumbles, but then a sadistic grin spreads across his face. He picks up his chair and drags it to the spot directly next to her. He leans right into her ear, “Unless that’s where you like it, Miss Perfect.”

His comment was a gamble for sure, Ukai knows that the hot tempered girl next to him will probably hit him with her notebook, but if he shocks her, he wins.

“I usually don’t start with things up my ass. Plus, I’m into blondes.” A small shrug and bored look was all he got. Dammit. He should have known that he wouldn’t faze her that easily. Still… She doesn’t acquaint her hand with the back of his head, so he decides to push her a little further.

“How about we take a break and I can relieve some of your tension, y/n.” She stops writing in the sea of papers in front of them and looks at Ukai with unwavering eyes. Her stare is so intense he starts to prepare for the worst. At least in the position they’re currently sat in she can’t kick him in the balls.

“Okay.” Y/n starts packing up her things and Ukai is reeling. Nothing shocked her, and even if he had propositioned her, Y/n always had control.

Whichever way it starts, whether the tension threatens to boil over or just out of boredom, it ends in with him slamming her against the nearest surface while she pulls on the short brown hair at his nape. She has an amazing way of bringing out passion in people and Ukai is no exception. She challenges him at every turn. She elicits rage, anger, frustration- but he comes back for more like she’s holy communion.

“What are we doing?” Ukai is agitated by the silence that has consumed the past few moments. Y/n scoffs at his quip and takes the cigarette from his hand, bringing it to her plush, disarming lips. “Come on, what’s some room temperature beer and a cigarette between friends?” Now it was his turn to scoff.

“I’m not sure we would be considered friends, princess. We’re,” He pauses to contemplate, rubbing the bottle he’s holding between his palms “more like business associates.” The comment feels like poison in his mouth, even though it receives the intended chuckle from y/n. He takes a hearty sip from his beer to wash down the taste of his own words.

He wasn’t lying, these two are not friends. Ukai, even if he was closer to a delinquent than a valedictorian, lives in a different world than y/n. He has athletic talent and a drive to compete, he has a group to belong to and a uniform to adorn. She mulls around with the crowd who directly opposes structured sports. Every time they’re shuffled into the gymnasium for a pep-rally, her friends jeer and taunt as various captains speak words of encouragement.

She hates her friends almost as much as she hates everyone else. She never thought liking vinyl and horrible black coffee were interesting traits, definitely not ones to develop a whole personality around. Y/n thinks it stupid to oppose society without a good reason. She has plenty of reasons, but the friends around her never made compelling points. Even so, she doesn’t have to like the people around her to understand the need for a place to belong. Until she found somewhere to truly be herself, they would have to work. Not that it matters now, even freshly out of graduation, she knows she isn’t going to see anyone from high school again.

“Business associates, huh? Is that what you call this-” She motions between them with the beer bottle in her hand, “thing that we do? Is Hate Fucking right under the NASDAQ when you check the stocks in the morning?” Her comment was sharp but her actions directly contrast. She moves to sit in between his legs and presses her back to his chest. Even if she’s not offended by his comment, she craves the intimacy of his arms wrapped around her. She craves to prove wrong a point she cannot argue. Every time she leans into him is a silent claim. She touches him in a way that no one else does. Y/n would never be seen at one his games donning his number or cheering him on, that was an action reserved for a girlfriend. She wasn’t there to jump into his arms after a win, but she was surely there to take his frustration out on after a loss. Her touch was not that of a romantic, but it served a purpose for both of them, and she revels in that control.

It’s not like he minds, pushing his hands under the shirt that hangs so deliciously on her petite frame. His shirt. He rests his calloused palms on her stomach and she reaches up to run her hand over the back of his hair.

Ukai is addicted to the feeling of her skin. Her soft, curvy body and the smell of strawberry lotion mixed with the faint trace of smoke clouds any rational thoughts. The feeling of her thighs wrapped around him could keep him up at night. At the beginning, sex was more than enough to quench his thirst. The fucked out look on her face in those moments was like methadone. However good that feeling was though, it quickly became insufficient. The real drug is this moment, with her in between his legs and his chin resting on the top of her head. If her sex was methadone, this is heroine.

The comment she made was almost lost by the feeling of her flush against his hard chest. Where he was almost drunk on the feeling of her bare ass pressed into him, she wasn’t flustered in the slightest.

Sawamura y/n was unmatched when she spoke. It seems like she employed a whole writers room to push out bitchy comments. How was she able to counter his dumb remark with a pointed jab and lay into his chest in a way that’s making him want to protect her? How are both possible at the same time? Fuck, he has to tell her before he chickens out again. He doesn’t know where to begin, but his words tumble out in a small voice.

“We don’t always hate fuck, y/n.” He’s referring to the fact that they do spend time together with their clothes on, but his tone implies something different. The accusation is not lost on either of them. She doesn't show it, but his hushed confessional knocks the breath out of her lungs. He was right again.

She can’t deny the soft touches she places on his face after falling into bed together, studying his features as they let their breathing steady. She can’t deny the times she presses her small hands into the dips of his shoulder blades after a grueling practice. She can’t forget the night he came to her after being beaten to a pulp, and she will never forget the way he grabbed her thighs to ease the pain with each swipe of antiseptic on his beaten face.

“Ukai Keishin, why are you calling me at three in the morning. This better be important.” Y/n uses his full name as a sign of her frustration and it feels like a knife piercing his skull.

“Your parents are gone this weekend, right?” He doesn't mean to sound like a prick, but the throbbing in his head is making him lose his senses. He coughs and blood spatters on his hand.

“Yes, but my brother’s asleep so if you’re coming over you have to be quiet. My window is open.” She whispers into the other end of the line and he hears her getting out of bed.

“I can’t come through the window. I’m at your front door.” The idea of climbing the tree in her backyard and jumping up to the roof seems impossible in his current state. He hopes that the tone of his voice is enough to stifle any argument from her. It seems to work as the door to her house is unlocked as quietly as possible. Upon opening it, she nearly screams at the sight in front of her. Ukai is leaning against the door frame with a beaten face and a small, apologetic smile.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” He stumbles and y/n helps him inside. She puts her hands around his waist and hauls him clumsily into the bathroom. She sits him on the edge of the bathtub and grabs the first aid kit from the closet with shaking hands. “Is she shaking because she’s concerned for me? Or is she just pissed?” His inner-monologue is drowned out by the feeling of his own heartbeat in his swelling eye.

Y/n runs a washcloth under warm water and turns to face him. He looks up and is able to see her clearly for the first time- as clearly as he can with one good eye. Her bed head is the first thing Ukai notices, h/c locks wildly spilling over her shoulders. She looks exhausted. The bags under her eyes are deep and it looks like she’s been crying. “That wouldn’t be from me right? Surely not, if I ever did something worth crying over, she would just yell at me.” He watches the form in front of him, clad in nothing but an over-sized shirt from a band he doesn't recognize and- he lifts up the shirt slightly- yeah, a pair of underwear.

If she notices him staring at her, she doesn’t say anything and approaches him with the washcloth. She looks so different standing above him like this, she looks like-

“An angel.” He says out loud, only realizing it when the sound of his voice hits his ears. “Hardly Kei. Stop being weird.” She chuckles at his dizzy comment and lifts his chin up, at least her nickname for him is back on her lips, where it belongs. “This is going to sting but you have to stay quiet. If you wake up my brother I will kill you.” Y/n stands in between his parted legs and starts to dab lightly at the blood under his nose. He winces and grabs her thighs to anchor himself, biting his tongue to stifle a painful grunt. Her honey-sweet thighs keep him distracted, at least a little, from the sting of the rag making contact with his face.

“What happened?” Y/n asks so softly it is almost a hum.

“The guys and I were just hanging out- ah, ouch- and some prick from the basketball team started messing with one of our first years. They called him a queer, so my fist attached itself to the douchbag’s jaw.” He says simply and digs his nails into the spot right below her ass.

“And I can guess that said basketball douchebag had friends.” Y/n puts a band aid on the gash under his blackening eye, and Ukai lets out a low chuckle.

“Yeah, but I’m the only one who really got hurt.” She sighs and cleans the dirt from his shaved hairline with feather-light touches.

“Don’t expect me to tell you that you’re a hero, Kei. I think what you did was stupid. There are better ways to support gay rights than getting your ass handed to you.” His desire to stand up to injustice was commendable, even if it was rough around the edges, but she wasn’t about to stroke his ego by voicing that opinion. She steps away slightly to clean up the small pile of wrappers and gauze, and Ukai immediately misses having his hands on her bare legs.

“I wouldn't expect a gold star from you, y/n.” He clears his throat in an awkward series of coughs and takes the aspirin and glass of water from her outstretched hands. ‘Can I ask you a question?” He swallows the pills thickly and sets the cup next to him. He plays with the hem of her sleep shirt and looks up at her, awaiting her acknowledgement. The way his fingers tug at the fabric makes him feel like a child.

“I’m not blowing you just because you got hurt.” That damn tongue of hers, so sharp no matter the situation. She puts the first aid kit back and wrings the blood out of the washcloth in her hands, skin tinted pink under the water before running clear.

“You can ask me whatever you want, but I’m going upstairs to sit on the roof.” He follows y/n like a lost puppy, he’s only ever been in her room so walking through these halls feels like an intrusion. Ukai winces as he climbs out of her bedroom window into the cool night’s air.

“Were you crying?” He asks as she lays her head in his lap and blows cigarette smoke in his face, an action he usually finds annoying. He grimaces but lets it slide without complaint. Maybe it’s the late night, or the news that she received a few hours ago, but his presence is calming her racing mind. So as to not look too out of character though, she gives his earnest question a harsh scowl.

“Maybe. Why do you care?” Y/n tries to quell her fastened heartbeat at the thought that he cares about if she’s been crying. The night’s events really must be taking a toll if she’s started caring about that. She takes another deep, cancerous inhale and ashes the cigarette in her fingers with a practiced flick.

“You’re an ugly crier, it’s weird seeing your face all sad instead of bitchy.” Maybe an asshole comment isn’t the best idea, but Ukai knows exactly what reaction he would receive. Even if he doesn’t know what upset her, he knew that the insincere insult would make her laugh. She did, she laughed loudly and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She needed that, and he knew it.

As her giggle subsides, she looks up at his bruising face, She reads his eyes like a book, they tell of fondness and concern where she usually sees anger or agitation. Ukai hesitates, but cards his fingers through her hair that has cascaded around his lap. The tender action feels foreign to them both, but she makes no move to stop him as he scratches gently at her scalp. The silence around them is ringing in both of their ears.

“It’s my dad. My mom took him into the city for an appointment yesterday, he was admitted on the spot. He’s not going to make it more than a few days.” Y/n blows a smoke ring into the crisp air and continues, “He’s been sick for a long time. Like, a really long time. I mean he was so frail when I helped him into the car yesterday, but I didn’t expect that call. I don’t think you can ever expect that call.” She doesn’t realize she had started crying again until his rough hand meets her cheek to thumb away the escaping tears.

This shouldn’t be happening. Even if the circumstances are tragic, and his intent is genuine- it’s selfish to love the feeling of his comforting gesture. Y/n let’s Ukai do so much to her, but this moment feels like she is stealing from him. She’s a thief, but she indulges herself, resolving to make sure this never happens again. In this moment, this horrible night, she leans in shamelessly and memorizes the feeling of his sweet, strangers touch.

“My brother and I are going to see him tomorrow. I haven’t told him yet. He deserves one last night of sleep. His childhood ends tomorrow.” Ukai holds the shaking frame in his arms, tightening like she would disappear.

His heart breaks for her and the nine-year-old boy in the next room. The boy Ukai has never met. Why would he know y/n’s brother? He only ever comes to this house to get off and sneaks away before the sun wakes in the morning. There’s no love here, there shouldn’t be, but his heart breaks all the same.

“Kei,” she exhales a cloud of smoke from her nose and sits up to face him. “I need to tell you something.” His hands start sweating frantically and he knows it is now or never. He has to say the thoughts that are burning a hole in his tongue. Y/n and Ukai spoke at the same time. Both said one sentence that would hang off of this fucking rooftop for the next eight years.

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you.”

“Kei, I’m moving to California for college.”

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#haikyuu x reader #coach ukai x reader #ukai x reader #ukai keishin x reader #ukai keishin #haikyuu!!#tw: smoking

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jacksjoke · 4 years ago

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Title: someone here loves you Pairing: Mork and Pi, Mork and Mueang Nan Summary: Pre-series into episode 1 character speculation Ao3 link

Mork likes to think that he’s got a skill in reading people. His talents prove handy in pretty much any situation Mork could find himself in, and after years of relationships avoided that Mork could tell would’ve ended on an unfortunate note (romantic or otherwise), he fancies his skills sharper than most others’. Thanks to him, his younger sister had turned down the date of a boy in her class who’d later ended up trying to steal goods from a local shop; and he’d successfully coached one of his old high school friends on how to end a friendship that he wasn’t happy in. So yes, Mork’s fairly confident.

On the other side of that, whether it be metaphorical or literal, Mork doesn’t like to be under a spotlight. He prefers to be the guy on the sidelines cheering on his friend rather than having to be the poor sucker bombarded by obsessive fans. Mork, in his time as Mueang Nan’s closest friend, has come to see that this isn’t an exaggeration. Mork rarely uploads content on social media, Mueang Nan posts at least one update per day. Mork’s account is private and although he has a lot of followers, he hasn’t reciprocated in kind. Mueang Nan is public and his posts always receive at least 200 comments from strangers, while Mork will get 50 from people he’s spoken to in person.

He doesn’t fault Mueang Nan at all; he grew up in a remote northern village where he hadn’t had a mobile, barely a television, so for Mueang Nan to enjoy social media to the extent he does is totally fair. Even if he hadn’t grown up the way he did, Mork wouldn’t fault Mueang Nan for something as small as liking Instagram or Facebook.

It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day, because his well-honed talent has already told Mork that Mueang Nan is a genuinely good guy. Out of anyone, Ai’Nan actually deserves to be as well-liked as he is, and on Mork’s end he’s content to live on the blurred edges of relative obscurity than be made daily the center of a stampede. He’ll leave Mueang Nan to pseudo-celebrity life and remain virtually invisible by his side. That’s ideal, really.

But a boy nudges his glasses further up his nose, tugging red-bitten lips between his bracketed teeth in a bout of nerves, and within a moment, the fellow first-year knows that if no one else ever knew who Mork was here or anywhere, he’d want this boy to know.

It’s orientation, as cliché as that may be, where Mork first sees Pi. As a fellow first year, Mork hasn’t met Mueang Nan or really anyone that he’d feel inclined to befriend, and so catching sight of Pi in the crowd of anxious freshers lands a hit square into Mork’s chest. He can’t see his name-tag, blocked in as he is by other students, but to see him here in the sciences is proof enough that they’ll at least share one or two classes.

And Mork is so happy to be correct. The dentistry student’s name is Pattawee, commonly Pi, and he’s nothing like any crush Mork’s ever had before. He often spots Pi in conversation with another boy, occasions which generally end in elbows thrown into each other’s chests or Pi dragged down into a headlock. Pi’s raucous laughter imprints upon Mork’s thoughts to prompt unbidden smiles from him, and Mork can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed. The boys are obviously nothing more than friends, so Mork wants to hold onto the hope that Pi is single. He keeps a consistent eye on him both in class and out, and never has he seen Pi spend time with anyone else on campus. Whether or not Mork will ever stop being a loser and talk to him before he is taken by someone else remains to be seen.

Well, they have spoken, per se, though not at any great length. Pi favours the back row in lectures, Mork always sits nearer to the front; and half the time, Pi packs his bag in record speed and is darting from the room before Mork has even closed his notebook. All this adds up to the unfortunate fact that opportunities for Mork to ‘coincidentally’ run into Pi are pretty much nill. The one time he’d managed to run into Pi had been unfortunately literal.

Mork had been glancing at his phone for the time and it was enough of a distraction that he’d stepped out into the hallway and directly onto Pi’s ankles. To Mork’s credit, Pi had paused in front of the door to adjust a stubborn zipper on his backpack and directly blocked Mork’s path (a miracle if Mork’s ever seen one). Rather than the usual meet-cute a romantic might expect, Pi had spun on Mork with an affronted air and hissed, “You can’t see me here?”

“You’re in the middle of the doorway!” Mork had pointed out, his mouth moving faster than his brain. Pi snorted and spun away with a glare as though Mork was the problem here, and there ended Mork’s first and thus far last conversation with his crush. That was four months ago in February.

By the week following Valentine’s Day, Mork begins to suspect that Pi is plotting his murder, as everywhere Mork goes, Pi appears as well. Only at the beginning of this month, Pi’s behaviour would’ve thrilled Mork. But now he recognises Pi’s comments on Mueang Nan’s Instagram, and he can see that Pi’s giddy attention slides right past Mork to Mueang Nan. If he deigns Mork with a look, it’s one of disdain and annoyance, at best. Mork doesn’t have to be a genius people-reader to know that his crush… is crushing on his closest friend.

Mueang Nan doesn’t know, of course. He assumes everyone is just incredibly friendly, so any special treatment he receives tends to go over his head. Pi’s also never spoken to Mueang Nan in real life, likely similar to Mork’s own inability due to general nerves. It’s sort of surprising to Mork, considering Pi doesn’t come across as someone afraid of anything or wont to give in to anyone’s demands. But for as much as he trails after Mueang Nan (and by extension, Mork), Pi hasn’t yet said a word, and neither has Mork about his true feelings.

Hands shoved in his pockets, Mork is just entering the building for a morning class when he hears murmuring from a nearby hallway. He pauses in his steps to look and —

“It doesn’t sound sincere,” Pi complains to himself. “Nan, I know you like choux cream desserts…” The dentistry student is stood there with a box in his hands and talking to the wall. Mork would say that’s the strangest thing he’s seen Pi do, but that’d be a lie.

Their last spoken interaction hadn’t been the greatest and, since then, Pi’s only ever shot daggers via sneer Mork’s way, his certainty that Mork wants to ‘steal’ Mueang Nan of no help on that end. Maybe choosing to sit back silently isn’t helping either. If Pi already dislikes him so vehemently, what’s a little teasing going to hurt?

“I know you like them,” he says near Pi’s ear, “so I stole some for you.”

Mork comes to find within moments that it can go very badly, actually. He ends up alone in the hallway, his handkerchief covered in clotted dessert cream, and asking why luck has screwed him once again. (Probably his attempt at a joke is what screwed him, but he’s going to ignore that for now.)

Pi is insistent that Mork is out to get him, so convinced as he is that Mork’s goal in life is to destroy Pi’s, but Mork knows he can’t let this go. Pi is already thoroughly blinded himself against Mork to the extent that there’s really no way Mork could tell him the truth and be taken with sincerity. Anything he says is seen as a dig, so how can Mork help if Pi doesn’t trust him? He isn’t about to out his best friend, but Mueang Nan isn’t interested in dating or anything of the sort. He’s always kind to Pi because that’s who he is, and he’s never one to decline a new friend, but… this won’t have the happy ending Pi has been hoping for.

If Pi continues down this road, Mork knows he’s only going to be hurt and disappointed until the day he’s honest with Mueang Nan and met with the truth of why. And if Pi’s going to be hurt, which Mork would never want, maybe he can put in some effort to… redirect his affection? It’s sort of self-serving, but Mork will say instead that he’s baking two pies with one oven: make Pi like him and thereby willingly move on from Mueang Nan, never having to be hurt at all.

He recalls Pi’s doe-eyed gaze behind his glasses that morning and thinks that maybe there’s a chance. Once he really knows Mork, maybe he’ll be swayed. Maybe.

Mork has to give thanks to Mueang Nan’s obsession with posting status updates because tonight’s brings about another miracle: Pi comes to the club. Mork knows he’s there for Mueang Nan, but if he intercepts him on the way in, who’s going to call him on that?

He hangs back for a moment as the bouncer gives Pi a quirked, disinterested eyebrow. He can’t blame him entirely when Pi’s wearing his shirt tucked in with worn-out sneakers, but as always, Mork finds Pi’s authentic personality charming. He throws an arm over Pi and revels in the feeling of his classmate brushing his waist, again when he pivots Pi away from an oncoming tray of drinks. And there again are Pi’s wide eyes on him, making Mork almost forget that they’re in a hallway that smells mostly of stale smoke and strangers.

He takes pictures of Mueang Nan and Pi to be helpful and show the latter that he is in support of, not against, Pi’s crush, because that’s the truth even if it isn’t the whole truth. He stands beside Pi at the table; one, because he wants to and two, as further proof that he isn’t the one here with a crush on Mueang Nan. Mork thinks that it’s going perfectly fine until Pi shoots him a look full to the brim with something too close to dejected for Mork’s liking before fleeing the scene.

He finds Pi in a pile of garbage beside the dumpster, and his heart jumps where it hides behind his ribs. How the hell had this happened in the two minutes Pi had been away from them? But when Mork tries to express his sincere sympathy, Pi just snaps, “You convinced Mueang Nan to take pictures with me because you want people to look down on me!” and Mork’s at a loss. That can’t be possible. Who in the world could look down on someone as unapologetically obstinate as Pi?

“People look down on you? Who?” Mork asks, sure that if he had names he’d clear up this misunderstanding. If ‘clearing up’ entails his beating them into the concrete and/or possibly suing for slander, that’s his prerogative.

But Pi just shoves him off and leaves in a cloud of anger, on his face the very hurt that Mork had planned to avoid. Instagram proves Pi’s point to a devastating degree. Pi is seen as pathetic, like he said. Pi. Loud, courageous Pi… who acts out to avoid being confronted as the timid loser everyone sees him as.

Later that night, his washed handkerchief hanging between his fingers, it occurs to Mork that he might not be as good at reading people as he thought.

“I’m sorry, Pi.”

#my writing #futs #fish upon the sky #morkpi #thai bl #fanfics #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfictions #mlm #someone here loves you #bl series #links

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pbandcas · 4 years ago

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Where the Love Light Gleams

So I took a small break from my Endverse Advent Calendar series to write some Christmas fluff! this is for @diminuel (for inspiring me on Twitter and also for being an absolute omega!Cas supporting treasure)

tags: omega verse, omega!Castiel, Alpha!Dean, mpreg, Jack and Claire are Dean and Castiel's kids, family fluff, proposals, and inappropriate humor, pregnant Castiel, Pregnant Eileen

pairing(s): Dean/Castiel, Sam/Eileen

characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Wincheste, Eileen Leahy, Jack Kline, Claire Novak

Read on AO3

Where the Love Light Gleams

Christmas, Dean decided, wasn’t actually so bad anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that they weren’t constantly moving around and could settle in one place for the holiday. Or if it was because they weren’t constantly fighting for their lives anymore or trying to stop another apocalypse. Or if it was because the bright smell of cloves and honey and sunlight after a storm permeated the air around him. The smell of content, happy omega, the smell of his content, happy omega. Cas was once again rearranging the small pile of gifts under their tree. The rainbow lights reflected soft smears of color in his dark hair. The blues and yellows bringing out his eyes, the reds and greens stained his cheeks and nose. Dean couldn’t help the happy rumble in his chest at the sight. They had only been officially mated for a few months. Cas had just started his pre-heat mood swings and finally demanded Dean either bite him and claim his ass or he’ll go find an alpha who would. Who was Dean to turn down such a romantic request. Now they proudly wore each other's bite and Dean— well Dean had plans.

See being mated, they didn’t have to technically get married. They were already together, till death do them part and all the jazz because as Cas had mentioned many times before, Angels mated for life. Even little Graceless, earthbound Omegas, but Dean wasn’t an Angel. Though he did believe in mating for life, he just— had other customs he wanted as well. Which was why, hidden away in the branches of their Christmas tree was a little black box with a little silver ring inside. “I think if you move them around anymore, the paper will rip and you’ll ruin Christmas.” He said with a slowly widening smile. Cas blinked over his shoulder at him owlishly before he frowned down at the gift in his hands. With a tilt of his head Cas set the thin box down on the very top and sat back on his heels. “I am… nervous.” Cas admitted softly, sadness and anxiety saturated his scent causing Dean to frown. Before he could say anything else though Cas shook his head and pushed himself to stand. With one hand on his hip and the other on his chin, he murmured softly, “I want everything to be perfect.” Rolling his eyes Dean walked up behind him and circled his arms around his mates waist. Propping his chin on Castiel’s shoulder he pressed a soft kiss to his mating bite before peppering more kisses up the side of his neck and up to his temple. “Everything will be, Angel. You worry too much.” Content Omega was back and the Alpha in Dean preened at being the cause of it. “Now come on. Help me finish up cooking before Sam and Eileen get here.” “You are under the assumption they will arrive before Jack and Claire.” Cas shot back with raised brows, an amused smile playing across his lips. “At least your brother and his wife will help cook… your children will not.” True, Jack was always more than happy to help, however, they’d all agreed long ago that he was never allowed in the kitchen. And Claire, well, Claire just didn’t like to help. Dean barked out a laugh at that and he nudged Cas’s cheek with his nose affectionately. “They’re your kids too, honeycake.” He paused for a minute before his grin widened. “She’s not even related to me, but Claire is pretty much a spitting image of me at her age. I love it.” Cas rolled his eyes and wiggled out of Dean’s grasp. “Of course you would. Alphas. I swear.” ————— They managed to get the last pies in the oven as they heard the bunker door open. Instantly loud arguing was heard and Dean shot Cas an amused smirk. “There is no way anyone could go to every house in a single night to deliver presents. Magic reindeer or not.” Claire growled with an eye roll as she sauntered into the kitchen. Jack followed hot on her heels and a wide smile on his face. “But it’s magic, C. Anything can be done with magic.” He turned his happy grin to Dean and Cas where they’d moved from the ovens to come give them hugs. “Isn’t that right, father?” He let Cas wrap him in a tight hug as he waited for Dean to speak. The hunter snorted, gave his o wn hug, then stepped back to ruffle Claire’s hair. The younger alpha groaned and shooed his hand away.

“Well duh.” Dean said in exaggeration, rolling his eyes for extra effect. “How else would there be presents here for you otherwise?” Jack’s face lit up at that and he all but scrambled from the room leaving behind a trail of cinnamon and rain.

“Oh! Are there?” He called excitedly as the door swung shut.

Claire snorted but sent a grin Dean’s way before turning to Castiel. Her face visibly softened as she smiled. “How’ve you been, dad?” Cas let the pleased expression take over as he opened his arms in invitation. To no one's surprise, she took it instantly and wrapped her arms around the omega. Whether she’d admit it or not, both Dean and Cas knew she adored Castiel.

“Busy.” Cas laughed as he pressed a small kiss to her temple before letting her go. “It has been like wrestling a hurricane to keep this one from actively hunting.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Dean. At Claire’s snort Dean rolled his eyes. “He wouldn’t know what a vacation was if it bit him on the ass.” They both laughed as Dean sputtered in indignation.

“It was a mating leave, Cas. Not a vacation, and after the holidays we’ll be right back at it.” He pointed a warning finger at them both, Cas raised an eyebrow and Claire snickered behind on hand. “Now. I’m going to go make sure the other one hasn’t opened anything yet.” With that he swept from the room, grumbling about ‘cheeky omegas’ and ‘nosy brat alphas.’

The second the door shut Claire whirled on him. “Did you tell him yet?” She demanded practically vibrating in excitement. Cas shushed her with one hand as he peered at the door, making sure her voice hadn’t carried.

“Not yet.”

“Ugh, Daaad.” She whined and crossed her arms over her chest, “What are you waiting on? For him to smell it first?”

Truth be told that had been Castiel’s biggest fear thus far. That Dean would smell it before he had a chance to tell him. He’d managed smothering the change so far but he knew it was just a matter of time. “I’ll be telling him tonight.” He said with a soft smile and happiness rolled off him in waves. “When we do presents.”

“Cas! Claire! Sammy and Eileen are here!”

They shared one last look before Claire clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m so happy for you, dad.”

——————

The second the two stepped into the main room Cas was swept up into a hug, his feet barely brushing the floor. Sam’s bright apple smell enveloped him in a content bubble and he couldn’t help the smile from blooming on his face. “Hello, Sam. I trust all has been well?” The tall alpha rumbled out his agreement as he spun them in a half circle. Cas could pick up the second Sam’s nose twitched and his scent grew curious as he scented the air around Cas. “Don’t say anything.” He whispered quickly, eyes glancing up at Dean who’d just released Eileen with a wide grin.

“Come on now man, that one’s mine.” Dean teased as he came over and pulled Sam into a bear hug. Sam rolled his eyes but pat him on the back anyway after letting Cas slip away to greet Eileen.

“So, how’s mated life treating you?” Sam’s shit eating grin grew when Dean’s ears flushed bright red and he mumbled ‘shut up’ under his breath. He was smiling fondly after his omega though. It was all so disgustingly domestic and Sam almost didn’t believe it was actually Dean. “That good then?”

The smell of satisfied alpha washed over them both as Dean turned his gaze back on his brother. “It’s been amazing, Sammy. Like. Seriously,” His eyes jumped to where Cas and Eileen were now excitedly talking to Jack. The young beta was showing them something on his phone and they couldn’t hear what exactly they were talking about but it was clearly entertaining. From the other side of the room Claire was poking around with a CD player, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. “I’m happy, man.”

There was a triumphant sound as Claire managed to get the music to turn on and instantly ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ started filtering through the room. Beside him Sam smiled, “That’s good, Dean. That’s really good.” He patted him on the back once and then, “You deserve this. You deserve each other.”

“Enough about me.” Dean said in embarrassment, “How are you and Eileen doing? It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together.” He looked over the dark haired woman where she now sat beside Castiel in front of the tree, her hands resting lightly over her protruding stomach. “She’s looking quite… large.”

Sam scoffed with a smile. “She’s pregnant, Dean, you know that, of course she’s large.” The expression turned fond and the apple scent around them sweetened. “Things are going really well. Just hit six months and the little bugger is super active.” The almost longing look on Dean’s face made Sam’s heartache. His brother had always been the more pup oriented of the two. Always talking about wanting to settle down and raise a family. “Have you and Cas talked about… you know… having pups?”

Dean didn’t say anything for a long moment and then, “Sometimes.” His voice was distant as he watched the two omegas laugh quietly as Claire plopped down beside Cas, her feet instantly coming up to rest on his lap. “Though it’s usually when he’s in heat and begging me to--”

“Oh ew, Dean! No, don’t even. I don’t need to know that.” Dean gave him a wolfish grin and waggled his eyebrows but the effect was lost when his scent dampened. “Mating habits aside,” He groaned, face twisting in disgust, “Have you talked about it while both of you are lucid?” Dean only shrugged and Sam pursed his lips, one eyebrow raised, “Why not, Dean?”

“Because I don’t know if he’d actually want a pup with me.” He shot back, the air burning around him, causing Sam’s nose to wrinkle. The next second the strong soothing smell of honey overtook them. Both blinked dazedly as Castiel popped up to wrap himself around Dean, his face pinched in a frown as he scented at his mate.

Looking up Dean, Cas pressed a hand against his mating bite. “You are distressed. Why are you distressed?” Turning to the younger Winchester he frowned, “What did you do?” Sam put his hands up and shook his head with a laugh.

“Nothing, Cas. We were just having a conversation.”

“Well, time for conversation is done. It’s time for food.” With that he turned on his heel and stalked away toward the table currently being set with food by Jack and Claire. Dean shot his brother a long suffering look that was only mildly put off by soft pine. They’d talk about it again later. He knew that, but for now he followed his omega toward the rest of their family.

——————

“Oh my God.” Claire burst out with a laugh as she pulled out a pair of soft looking pajama pants from the box Jack had handed her. They were bright yellow and covered in little cheeseburgers and she grinned at Jack, “These a fuckin beautiful.”

From the couch Cas ‘tutted’, “Language.” Claire rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Cas before turning back to Jack and giving him a hug. The cheeseburger pants grasped tightly in her hands as she rubbed the back of his head affectionately.

“Thanks, J.”

Jack seemed to preen under the praise as he said brightly, “They match Dean’s hotdog pants!”

Dean nodded approvingly as he eyeballed the bright pants, “That they do.” He turned slightly toward Cas and nudged his side, “You and Jack need a pair now. I’m thinking fries for the kid,” Jack’s face lit up as Dean tossed him a box he had at his side. Not breaking eye contact with his mate he smiled, “Great minds think alike, ya?” Dropping his voice lower he muttered, “Soda’s for you, my little juice box.” Cheeks instantly burning Cas looked away from him, wide eyed and mouth gone dry.

As Jack pulled out the red pants covered in fries, Claire handed Castiel an almost identical box. Cas frowned, his face still burning at Dean’s comment, at the box in his hands then glanced between the two, “You planned this.” Dean shrugged, smirk firmly in place as Cas opened the box and pulled out dark blue pants covered in soda cups, the straws each a rainbow of colors. “Did you pick them out?” He asked Claire tentatively, alarm raising as the two alphas looked at each other with matching smirks.

The look was all he needed to know before he was wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Sam and Eileen cackled on the love seat and Castiel shot them a glare. “You are all terrible people.” Sam shrugged one shoulder as he wheezed through his laughter, Eileen patting his back while stifling her own giggles.

Beside him Dean let out a soothing rumble and nuzzled against his cheek. “Oh come on, honeycake, it’s all in good fun.” Cas huffed, but let himself be soothed at the same time. The rest of the presents were handed out. New matching knit sweaters for Sam and Eileen from Jack and Claire. A new rifle for Claire, much to Castiel’s displeasure. A new laptop for Jack. A card from Cas to Eileen that neither alpha knew what it said but there were tears and hugs and happy smiles.

Then Dean was raising to his feet and grabbing something hidden away in the uppermost branches of their tree. He cleared his throat and all eyes around the room snapped up to him. First on the box in his hand, then to his content smile and crinkled eyes and the rainbow lights haloing his blonde hair. Jack’s head tilted in confusion as Claire choked on her cocoa, eyes widening.

Happy honey and cloves flooded the room instantly as Dean took another two steps forward before falling to one knee in front of where Castiel was still perched on the couch. “I know you know what this is and what’s going on… so do I still have to say it?” Cas nodded quickly, voice catching in his throat.

“Dean! Of course you do!”

“Shut your face before I take your shit back.” Dean wagged a threatening finger at Claire who snickered back. Turning back to his mate he huffed, but he smiled again anyway, “I love you, Cas. You know I do, and I’m happy to be your mate. Always.” Castiel bit his bottom lip as his eyes sparkled with flecks of brilliant gold amongst ocean blue. “But I’d be even happier if you’d be my husband.”

In lieu of answering Cas merely launched himself off the couch and tackled Dean to the ground. Both of them laughing as their mouths clashed together, none too gently and their family cheered around them. “So that a yes?” Dean murmured against Castiel’s lips after a moment of kissing him soundly.

Cas pulled back enough to give a small, soft lick to the mating bite on Dean’s neck before he nodded. “Yes. Of course yes.”

——————

The night was just starting to wind down when Claire gave Cas a pointed look in the kitchen as they were refilling their mugs that Dean didn’t miss. From his spot in the chair he raised an eyebrow at the silent standoff. Finally it seemed that Cas won when Claire threw her hands in the air, grabbed her, Jack and Eileen’s mugs and stormed out to rejoin the others.

Dean watched Cas shake his head in exasperation before he picked up Dean and Sam’s mugs. He passed Sam his on the way past, the younger Winchester took it with a soft thank you. Pausing briefly by the tree Castiel picked up a small thin box that everyone had noticed, but hadn’t mentioned. Stopping beside Dean’s chair he held out the cup in one hand and the box in the other. Dean furrowed his brows when Castiel’s scent turned apprehensive and he quickly turned away to go back to the kitchen.

As Cas picked up his cocoa and took a large sip, eyes nervously on Dean’s face, waiting for his reaction before quickly flitting away. There was a slight rustle as he slipped the wrapping paper off, then cardboard coming apart, then… silence. One beat. Two. Then the wobbly sound of photo paper moving against itself.

Taking a deep breath, Cas held his mug tightly between his hands and wandered back over to stand behind Dean’s chair. He hadn’t dared to look at his alpha’s face yet but he watched mesmerized as his fingers trailed over the black and white photo almost reverently. “This-- Cas?” Licking his lips, Cas leaned over the back of the chair to wrap his arms around Dean’s shoulders.

He was still staring at the sonogram when he whispered, “Cas... is this…” He broke off, hand starting to shake slightly. Cas let his scent soften enough that faint vanilla could come through the fresh rain and honey. He pressed a gentle kiss against his alpha’s temple and when he smiled he knew Dean could feel it too.

“That’s your pup, Dean.” The cocoa was dangerously close to tipping but neither of them noticed as the scent of joyous alpha saturated the air. “Merry Christmas.”

—————

Curled around his omega later that night the enormity of it sunk in all at once. With a feather light touch Dean pressed his hand against the Angel’s lower abdomen. The softly content answering purr told him Castiel was still awake, though he was completely pliant in Dean’s arms.

Stroking his fingers over the still flat plane of Castiel’s stomach Dean pressed his face into the hair at the nape of his neck. “That’s our pup.” Dean breathed in amazement, heart threatening to rip from his chest with how hard it was beating. “That’s our pup.”

Christmas, Dean decided, wasn’t actually so bad anymore. He has officially decided it was because of the bright smell of cloves and honey and vanilla wrapped in sunlight after a storm.

#my writing #destiel #omega verse #omega!castiel #omega castiel #alpha dean winchester #alpha!dean #spn #supernatural #A/B/O #jack kline #claire novak #saileen #cw: mpreg #Christmas fluff #deancas #top!dean #bottom!cas #I Stan bottom!Cas

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bluesfortheredj · 4 years ago

Text

Forever starts now - RT.

Rufus’ eyes are locked on the ceiling above him as his nimble fingers fidget with the hem of his shorts while he sits nervously on the sofa; one of his legs unable to stop bouncing up and down anxiously. Outside in the street you shrug your coat higher up your neck as the rain begins to seep inside your jacket, and you quickly press the doorbell again to try and hurry the man inside up; it was freezing and your hair was now absolutely drenched with thick strands of it stuck to your cheeks and neck.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter, hopping from one foot to the other.

Finally the door opens to reveal the slightly dishevelled looking guy in a pair of his comfiest shorts with his hair put up in a messy knot. His free hand rests on his hip and he gives you a wonky smile as he takes in your appearance.

“You look wet,” he smirks.

“I’m absolutely soaked,” you huff.

“Better come in then.”

He steps to the side to allow you entry and shuts the door as soon as you’re safely out of the way, then you slip your boots off and hang your coat up before he gestures to the lounge where you flop down onto the soft couch with a sigh.

“So what brings you out in the pouring rain?”

“Did you really expect me to stay at home after hearing that voicemail?”

“Ah.”

“Yeah… just tell me one thing; do you mean it?”

His expression turns serious and he takes your icy hands in his before looking directly into your eyes to confirm his sincerity, “of course I mean it. I know what you stand to lose, you know what I’ve sacrificed already as well, and I wouldn’t have done any of this if I wasn’t completely sure about being with you.”

“Well that’s a relief,” you chuckle, “because-”

A bang from upstairs interrupts your sentence and the two of you both look up at the ceiling at exactly the same time, just as there’s a shuffling on the floor. You soon turn your attention back to Rufus and snatch your hands away from his before covering your mouth with them at the sight of his suddenly panicked expression. His face reddens as his eyes flick from your gaze to the white expanse above you both, and he shakes his head as he brings his hands up either side of his face in surrender before gently bringing them down to his thighs as if pushing something away.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, “I… I’ve just… you’ve got someone here.”

You slowly rise from the sofa while he mirrors your actions with his arms open and palms flat almost like he was trying to calm a frightened animal, but you soon move past him to the hallway where he attempts to get a grip on one of your arms; failing as you wriggle out of his grasp each time.

“No,” you snap, pointing your finger at him with a shaking hand, “no.”

“(Y/N), please, it’s not what you think, I-”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you even dare.”

Your eyes are narrowed at him as you pull your boots on along with your coat, then you back up to the door and exit just in time to hide your tears from him. The rain disguises the stream of misery that pours over your cheeks as you scuttle down the road as fast as your feet will take you, and yet when you reach the corner of the street you can’t help but look back to see if he was daring to follow you or if the other person had left. Neither sight greeted you, and with one last forceful sniff you turn away and continue your journey back home with a renewed determination as you pull your phone out and delete the voicemail you’d travelled half way across London for; all you could hear in his voice now was empty promises.

This wasn’t what was meant to happen, you’d come to tell him that you were going to break up with your boyfriend so you could be with him, that it was him you were in love with and not James. This didn’t happen in the films you’d seen, they’d lied to you, this was meant to be the most romantic part of the film where the two main characters kiss while getting soaked by the rain, neither of them giving a damn about the weather as they finally get together after a couple of hours of back and forth about whether it would happen or not. Reality sucked.

“Where have you been?!” James asks with genuine concern as you finally get home.

“Out,” you shrug, peeling your sodden clothes from your body as you avoid all eye contact with him.

“You’re wringing wet,” he sighs, attempting to help, “you need to get warmed up else you’ll catch a chill.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“I’ll run you a hot bath.”

“James, would you just please leave it?!” you snap, “I’m not a fucking child,” urgh, you sound like a complete bitch.

He backs off, finally getting the message that he so frequently ignored, and you hang your coat up before shutting yourself away in the bathroom and letting your body shake with sobs as the sound of the water running from the shower head covers the noise of your heartbreak. You felt awful of course, mere feet away from your boyfriend while you cried over another man; it was a truly horrible act and you were just as upset with yourself as you were with Rufus in all honesty. The only redeeming factor that you had was the fact you hadn’t physically cheated, but you are sure that emotionally cheating is equally as bad if not worse being as your love had now completely faded for the man outside the bathroom door with whom you’d spent the best part of three years with and had shared in the highs and lows of your life. It was quite the situation you had gotten yourself in to, and all you could feel for James now was utter contempt; the things that had only slightly bothered you about him before now absolutely unbearable. There’s a knock at the bathroom door just as you take a look at your phone to see ten missed calls from Rufus, and you let out a weak questioning ‘yes’.

“It’s Ru,” James states, “he says he can’t get through to you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I lost my phone,” you lie through the door, “I’m fine.”

There’s a mumbling as James relays the information you’d just given him, then you quickly undress and try to wash the truth of the matter off of yourself.

“I know you, (Y/N),” James says quietly when you reluctantly join him on the sofa in the lounge, “something’s not been right for a long time.”

You close your eyes and let out a deep breath, ready for confession, “you’re right…”

“I don’t know how you found out, but-”

You do a double take at James and his unexpected admission, “wait, what?”

“I… I’m in love with someone else.”

Your chest stills as you hold your breath, wondering whether to come clean about your own feelings for someone else but James continues talking before you get a chance, and you decide to keep everything to yourself, especially after the disaster earlier.

“I’m so sorry but you know things between us haven’t been great for a while and it just sort of happened… I promise I haven’t cheated on you, I-”

“It’s okay,” you smile as you place a hand on his arm to calm him down, “it’s absolutely fine, and I know you’d never cheat, you’re not the type of guy to do that.”

“Are you okay?” James frowns; confused at how calm you’re being.

“I’m fine,” you nod, “I can’t deny that things haven’t been the same between us for months. I’m glad you’ve found someone who deserves you in their life though. Truth is, I don’t. You’re too kind and caring for someone like me; I’ve been horrid to you the last few weeks and I’m deeply sorry about that.”

“No, no, I shouldn’t have been so overbearing and clingy, I know I can be annoying and-”

“James, seriously, just stop. We’ll take the blame 50/50 yeah? You don’t need to try and persuade me that it’s you’re fault because it’s not; we’re equally to blame and that’s that.”

“Fine,” he chuckles, “we’ll share it. I am sorry though, I didn’t mean to fall for someone else.”

“Don’t be sorry that you’ve found happiness! These things just happen sometimes,” you shrug, wishing that your gamble on love had paid off as well as James’, “listen, I’ll pay rent for the rest of the month but I’ll move out by the end of the week okay?”

“So soon?”

“Why delay anything for longer than we have to?” you smile, “a new start is exciting right?”

“Well, yeah, but where will you go?”

“You seriously need to stop worrying about me. I’ll move back to my parents’ house; it’ll be nice to not be directly inside the city, you know I’ve never completely warmed to living in London.”

You’d be away from everything and everyone, and right now that’s what you desperately needed. You wonder whether you’d walked in on Rufus and his ex, or whether it was someone else, someone you’d maybe met before or maybe not at all… your thoughts were torturing you now. Did it matter who it was upstairs? Sort of. It mattered to you. You needed to know whether it was just sex or something more. But it wouldn’t matter if you moved away though, and he wouldn’t matter either hopefully. Out of sight, out of mind.

James agrees to your terms and sure enough by the end of the week you’re saying your goodbyes, packing up your car and returning home for the first time in years. It didn’t feel like a step backwards, it felt like a new beginning, and although your parents were hot on questioning you about what had gone on between you and James, you simply explained that the two of you had fallen out of love and you were taking the opportunity to get out of living in London. The commute to work wasn’t so bad, and to be honest you’d spent the length of your journey getting from one side of London to the other before, so considering you were travelling in from the outskirts it wasn’t too much of a difference overall. It can be tough when you see how well James and his new girlfriend are getting along on social media but only because you imagined that you’d be in the same position with the person you were still harbouring feelings for. Out of sight, but not so much out of mind apparently.

“Hello,” you sigh in defeat, finally answering a call from Rufus after three weeks of ignoring him.

You were on the train home from work and completely exhausted after a long week, so this was a fragile moment for you anyway and that’s the only reason you didn’t reject the call. Well, that’s what you were telling yourself anyway.

“Finally!” he exhales, “I went to see you and James said you had moved out after you two broke up, then I went to everyone we know and they wouldn’t tell me anything!”

“Well I did ask them not to, so it’s good to know they took that seriously.”

“(Y/N), please don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Don’t do- are you joking?! Fucking hell Ru, I went to yours that night ready to start a new life with you and you had someone upstairs already! I mean, fuck, you don’t waste time do you?! And now you’re asking me to not cut you off ever again?!”

“I didn’t mean that… don’t hang up, please. I didn’t mean…” he pauses to groan, “can we meet up?”

“I don’t live in London any more and only travel in for work, so I don’t think so.”

“I’ll come to you then. You must be at your parents’ house, right?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Just give me five minutes, please. I’m literally begging you. Five minutes.”

You rest your head against the window of the train as you allow yourself to give him five minutes of your precious time, “fine,” you breathe.

“Tomorrow afternoon?”

“Fine.”

“I’ll see you then. I love you.”

“I will be setting a timer for the five minutes,” you state before hanging up.

You can’t help but laugh at the whole situation as you put your phone away; it was almost as if you were floating in mid-air after going from one stable relationship to the prospect of another one to now absolutely nothing. Maybe you deserved it after the lying and deceit you subject James to, but then again so did he in the end. Maybe it was something you’d done in a past life that now cursed your current one; never to be happy and in love again. In all honesty, you were worried. Worried that you’d see Rufus’ face and feel completely powerless as all of your feelings came rushing to the surface again. It was easy to appear defiant and angry when it was through a phone, but seeing him in person, being the presence of the one you truly loved, well, that was a whole different matter and you were terrified of falling into his arms within a matter of seconds.

A coffee shop in town is your chosen point to meet and you get there early to practise your stony, unimpressed expression that you planned on wearing for the entire five minutes, then you put your phone on the table when you see him queueing to get a drink, ready to bring up the timer. It was funny how serious you were about timing him, but you couldn’t let it show that you were amused by the stubbornness you had within you. He sits down with a coffee for him and a tea for you, then you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Ready?” you ask, your finger hovering over the start button.

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Ready?”

“I guess.”

You hit the button and the seconds begin to tick as Rufus eyes the screen nervously before lifting his gaze to meet yours.

“Right… well… it wasn’t what it seemed that night. Sarah was picking up some of her stuff that she’d left and when she knew it was you there she purposely dropped some of her shit on the floor to make you think that she was there for other reasons. She knew it would look bad, especially with what I was wearing that evening, but then when do I ever wear anything else? She then came downstairs after you’d left and made one last attempt at trying to win me back which then prevented me from following you, and by the time I chucked her out you were completely out of sight and I had no idea what to do because I didn’t want to turn up at your place and cause a rift between you and James. But then you didn’t answer any of my texts or calls so I had to ring James, and then you went and disappeared for three weeks and I’ve been going out of my mind with worry! James told me what went on between the two of you so I was frankly quite confused that you didn’t think to tell me because now there’s nothing standing in the way of us being together, and I love you, I just really fucking love you.”

You glance down to your phone, “and you only took three minutes.”

“Rest assured, that’s the only time I’ll be taking three minutes for anything.”

You manage to stifle a laugh at his comment as you bring your tea cup up to your mouth to hide the hint of smile that had crept across your lips unintentionally, then take a sip of drink.

“So…?” he prompts.

“Were you tempted?” you ask.

“To what?”

“Give in to her advances?”

“No! Never. Not even when she kissed me.”

You bring your cup up to your lips again and raise an eyebrow at him, “she kissed you?”

“I was being polite and went to kiss her cheek but she turned at the last second to try it on with me. Needless to say she was not happy when I pushed her away.”

“Bitchy move.”

“To say the least! I was fuming with her after she pulled that stunt upstairs when you were there.”

“Hmm,” you hum, “did the job, didn’t it?”

“Unfortunately, yes. If you’d given me the chance to explain then and there we could be happily shacked up together by now.”

“I panicked! What else was I meant to think?! We were literally ending parts of our lives to begin another with each other, so second guessing yourself for an easier life wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing for me to think would it?”

“Okay, I get it. What now though?” he asks as he finally takes a sip of his drink while a stray lock of his blonde hair falls from the messy bun it was tied up in and comes to a stop at his knuckles.

He tucks the hair behind his ear once his drink is safely back on the table, then he looks up at you with that innocent smile of his while his eyes plead to your better nature. Neither of you had gone into this without fully understanding what it could do to your lives, and you were both ready to end relationships to be with one another, him already having done so, so surely this should have been an easy answer.

“Well that depends… have you changed your mind since-”

“No! I want you,” he frowns earnestly as his arms slides across the table at speed so he can take your hand between his warm digits, “I’ve waited so long for this… we’ve waited so long for this. I want my life with you to start now; not a second later than it has to.”

You nod your head at his words and bring your free hand to rest on one of his wrists before giving it a reassuring squeeze, “I was really hoping you’d say that,” you sigh in sheer relief.

“So we’re finally doing this?”

You nod in response, the feel of his hand tightening around yours signifying the start of your long awaited relationship, and he scrapes his chair across the floor towards you so he can press the first of many kisses to your face. The two of you may have been sat in the middle of a coffee shop but it was as if you were in your own little world at last, and nothing could burst that bubble.

#rufus taylor #rufus taylor imagine #rufus taylor x reader #rufus taylor fanfic

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vickyvicarious · 4 years ago

Note

Eliot sweet talking Nana into sharing her secret family recipes so he can get more vegetables into both Hardison and Parker.

I was just going to write a short headcanon post about this but then the first line popped into my mind along with a line about Eliot utilizing his retrieval skills, and then next thing I knew this was a fic. First in this fandom so go easy on me.

(AO3 link.)

The carrot cake was the final straw.

Eliot knew his partners had terrible diets, okay? It was impossible for anyone to miss that, the way Hardison would just fill up any empty space in any fridge with orange soda, or Parker would get more cereal than was physically possible to store in the cupboard until there was at least one box permanently sitting on the table. He was well aware, and he’d been taking steps for a while to deal with matters.

He bought Hardison a fridge of his own - a mini fridge - and just poured out any soda he found anywhere else. He impressed upon Parker that just this shelf was for cereal and solemnly swore to her that he would never let it get beyond half-empty before filling it again. In the meantime, he filled the rest of his kitchen with actual ingredients, and always had a bowl of fruit out so they would have something healthy as an easy-to-grab snack. He didn’t put anything Parker liked hidden on a high shelf, because she’d find that fun; just small decoy portions while he kept most of his chocolate inside an old Wheat Thins box at the back of the cracker shelf. Speaking of chips, if he opened the bag of a good brand, then Hardison would gravitate toward it once he’d finished his Cheetos instead of going out to buy more, so that was just a matter of letting him buy one bag and then watching the level and timing when to get the other stuff out.

They both ate meat well enough, though Hardison liked to put in requests for absolutely sacrilegious misuses of various cuts; when Eliot humored him and actually destroyed his fish or brisket or whatever else as requested, he actually did seem to enjoy it, which was... very wrong, and disappointing, but at least the food was still going in his body. Parker quite liked some types of pasta now, and she seemed to enjoy when he put effort into plating things up nicely, but she was still a work in progress on any actual mealtime like a family (or a date. Not that Eliot hadn’t had to eat on the run plenty of times before, but - he’d had to. You don’t walk in to a table set for multiple healthy, delicious, innovative courses he’d been cooking for hours and then just grab bites as you wander around the room! He’d had wine out! Norah Jones playing softly in the background! No candles because he wasn’t an idiot, but it was clearly a romantic meal! What the hell kind of untrained toddler behaviour-).

Breakfast was easy, since they both liked eggs and there were a lot of ways to go from there. Breakfast potatoes were a hit too, and bacon, and they’d even eat oatmeal if he smothered it in sugar so that was something. For lunch, Hardison at least appreciated a good sandwich. Granted, usually only a stolen one because he didn’t like to make any kind of food at all that didn’t come out of a plastic package with microwave instructions on the side (and that had been an argument for the ages, the microwave one. Frankly most things could be heated better on a pan or in an oven, and those that were meant for the microwave were usually mass-produced garbage Hardison really didn’t need in his diet, but he disagreed vehemently and in the end that was one battle Eliot had definitively lost), but once Eliot caught on, he just started making double whatever he ate. Parker scoffed at the idea of lunch, for some reason, claiming that a granola bar or a brownie would get her through till dinner, but if he packed a lunchbox to look interesting and then gave it to her, she’d usually eat it. He just stocked up on bento boxes and made various kinds of colorful and/or childish looking foods and they came back mostly empty so that was good enough.

(Hardison claimed to have gotten jealous about it. Eliot was pretty certain he was making fun of him, so obviously he said he’d be caught dead before packing a lunch for him. He was a grown man and could do it himself.

“She’s a grown woman!” he complained, pointing at Parker, who was sitting perched on the back of an armchair nibbling away at her kraken bento - black noodle limbs, gyoza face, and grabbing a little egg scuba diver. “Sh-she should have to - this is discrimination!”

“Stay away from my octopus,” she squinted menacingly. When Hardison just glared mulishly back, she hugged the food closer to her chest. “It’s not for you, this is my little dead man.”

She popped the egg into her mouth and chewed, never breaking eye contact.

He turned back to Eliot to complain some more, but apparently that was only an attempt to fake her out, because he tried to grab the gyoza barehanded and she screeched, flinging her chopsticks at his face before fleeing across the room. Noodles got everywhere, Hardison had two little round bruises on his cheek the next morning, and somehow Eliot wound up packing everyone lunches every morning after that, and putting notes on them to label who each one went to.

He did not put sappy notes instead the boxes. He wasn’t their parent, okay. The notes inside the lunch were only ever reminders they needed for the con, like Parker’s character’s peanut allergy and how she needed to have the attack exactly two minutes after the mark joined her at the break table, or for Hardison to lock Lucille II behind him because even if he could track down someone who took off in her, he really shouldn’t have to again.)

Anyway, Eliot had something of a system down at this point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was workable for the most part. The one exception was vegetables, which they both hated. He’d tried to hide them several times, but they often picked them out or he just couldn’t stand to puree broccoli into a little garnish/dip just because his girlfriend and boyfriend were both giant babies about actually eating them whole. He had to eat the food too, and he enjoyed himself some veggies like any sane person would. They ate the ones hidden in their lunches almost half of the time, and sometimes other varieties, so he tried not to focus on that too much. Baby steps, he thought. First regular meals at all, then vegetables later.

But the carrot cake.

That was just too much.

It was cake. It was covered in cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake wasn’t anything but decadent, at least not the way Eliot made it for Hardison’s birthday. It was sweet, had just the right texture from the roasted pecans, the perfect hint of cinnamon and ginger. Not a complicated dish by any means, but pretty well near perfect, in Eliot’s no goddamn need to be humble opinion.

Hardison scrunched up his nose.

“Oh,” he said, not accepting the large slice Eliot tried to give him. “Eliot, I’m hoping this is a joke and you have my Red Velvet in the fridge?”

Parker let him hand her the plate, ate a bite, spat it out, then just started eating straight frosting off all the sides.

Eliot could feel his hands twitching. He very carefully set down the knife.

“What’s wrong with my cake?” he asked. Gave them the benefit of the doubt, and tried a bite: delicious.

“I mean... it’s a carrot cake,” Hardison said delicately, as though Eliot had made some kind of mistake and he felt a little bad pointing it out to him.

“So?”

“Carrot, Eliot.”

“Cake, HARDISON.”

“I like the frosting,” Parker interjected, and Eliot glanced over to her. She’d moved on from her own plate and was just scraping fingerfuls of frosting directly off the top of the cake. His cake. His cake for Hardison’s birthday, his beautiful cake -

“Babe, we love you but you gotta know vegetables don’t have any place in a dessert, that’s just wrong. C’mon, you really didn’t make me something else? Really?”

“THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” Eliot bellowed and stormed out of the apartment. He took the cake with him.

He brought it to Sophie and Nate, since they were in town and they weren’t insane like some people he knew.

“People you’ve, uh, chosen to dedicate the rest of your life to,” Nate pointed out around a mouthful. “I mean, you knew what they were like.”

“Oh, hush, Nate, don’t you get it? They’ve hurt Eliot’s feelings,” Sophie explained. She ate another bite, hummed approvingly, then waved her fork around to emphasize her words: “For Eliot, food is life. He wants them to lead long and healthy lives, he wants to live with them and show his love for them and keep them safe, and they just rejected that. It’s not all about the vegetables, y’know?”

Eliot was never sure whether he loved Sophie best or least of all.

“It’s definitely all about the vegetables,” he said, crossing his arms. The pair of them exchanged a look and then smiled at him warmly, like he’d just done something cute.

“Fine! Forget it,” he snarled, pushing himself roughly to his feet.

Behind him, Nate grunted the distinctive grunt of someone receiving a pointy elbow to the side, then cleared his throat.

“Okay, okay - wait! Wait, all right, I might have one idea.” When he turned back, Nate was rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “You’ve tried featuring the veggies, right, and hiding them. I’m sure you’ve lectured them both to death about why they should be eating more vegetables, but that’s not going to work on them, is it, because there’s no connection there. Ad novitam is only going to get you so far, you need the, the personal touch, a little ad misericordiam if you will.”

“I am not telling them it makes me sad when they don’t eat their greens,” Eliot said firmly.

“But it does,” Sophie said lightly. She met his glare with a soft smile, and popped another bite of cake into her mouth.

“N- Well, no, obviously, but you’ve got to think it through, Eliot. Step away from the situation. How can you imbue the food itself with emotion? Not for you -” Nate spoke a little louder as Eliot started to answer, “you’re not our mark here. What kind of food, with vegetables, is going make them feel an emotional connection?”

Eliot subsided, frowning down at his own plate. That... was actually a pretty good point.

“Hm, my favorite is still that little restaurant in Paris, with the exquisite quiche. But, I suppose hard-scrambled eggs are a bit of a guilty pleasure,” Sophie mused. “Mum was never any good at cooking.”

“You too?” Nate turned to her. “Yeah, my dad could set water on fire. I remember eating from my meal plan at college - the cafeteria, mind you - thinking how good the food was in comparison.”

The solution clicked into place. (Of course it did, they’d practically hand-fed it to him.)

Eliot stood up and grabbed his coat.

“Oh, are you leaving, Eliot?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned back to smirk at them. “I’m gonna go steal Hardison’s childhood.”

Once upon a time, Eliot had been a retrieval specialist. You name it, he got it back. Sometimes it was actually a they or even a them, on occasion. He’d committed arson for a pair of scissors, had gathered up a scatted set of Fabergé eggs from seven different countries and two different mafias, had traveled more than once through airport security with a live frog in his pants. The business was a strange one, but he’d been the best at it. And in the years since he left, his life hadn’t exactly gotten less weird; Leverage saw to that.

Breaking into an old woman’s home and stealing a book of recipes would be easier than taking candy from a baby. Of course, Hardison made sure to keep his Nana safe, and from everything he’d heard she could certainly take care of herself, but still it wouldn’t be any great challenge for Eliot to just break in and take what he wanted. He could do it and leave without her ever knowing he’d even been there.

He rang the doorbell, and gave her his best smile when it swung open.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Eliot. Can I come in?”

(This was Hardison’s Nana, he’d never do wrong by her like that. Anyway, it wouldn’t even work. For this he needed her direct input.)

Nana was a short, soft-looking woman. Her hair was pushed back with a purple headband, and she wore loose comfortable pants and a clearly old t-shirt covered in child-sized paint handprints. She exuded a sort of maternal air that had Eliot relaxing into the visit almost despite himself. They’d only ever spoken on the phone, and he’d admittedly felt a little awkward about his plan due to that detail alone. He knew Hardison would love for them to meet her, but it just hadn’t happened yet - honestly, Eliot had been reluctant before, worried that she would find him wanting, and he’d always been relieved that no plans had crystallized into anything solid.

Certainly, despite welcoming him in and getting them all set up on the couch with home-made lemonades, it was clear she felt suspicious. A few minutes in, she dropped the small talk altogether to pin Eliot with a steely glare.

“I’m fairly certain Alec wanted to be here when we met so he could brag some more about how hot his partners are,” she said, making Eliot flush. “And I’m just as certain nothing has happened to him, or it wouldn’t be you here to tell me, so that just leaves me confused.”

She raised an eyebrow, letting him take his time responding.

He looked down at his lap. Ran a hand through his hair, feeling... not less confident that he’d get those recipes by the end of this visit, but certainly more bashful about it.

“Uh. Yes ma’am,” he said. Quickly corrected himself, remembering her insistence over the phone, “uh, Nana. See, he doesn’t actually... know I’m here...”

“I’d guessed as much,” she said wryly.

“Right. Um, I actually wanted to ask you something. There’s something I want to do for him - well, for them - but I need your help to do it right.”

She stared him down a moment longer. Then her eyes widened, and she sat back in her seat with a little gasp, hand over her heart.

“Oh, Eliot,” she said warmly, leaning forward again to grab his hand and hold it between hers, “Oh, sweet boy, of course he’ll say yes. You should hear the way he talks about you, Alec’s been head over heels for years. I may not have met Parker personally, but I’m sure she will too. You don’t have anything to worry about, trust me on that.”

“What?” he croaked. “I... w-what?”

His voice broke in his throat. He wanted to yank away but he felt frozen in place. He didn’t understand how she’d - okay, no, he could easily see how she would draw the wrong conclusions from this situation, but they were the wrong conclusions! He’d never even considered marriage since Aimee, let alone proposing to Parker and Hardison. It wasn’t like a three-way marriage was even legal, and even if it were he would never. It was too much - not too much commitment, he’d already promised the rest of his life to them both, but still too much, somehow. He’d never dare.

“I know Alec doesn’t think too much of the institution in general,” Nana said, waving a dismissive hand, “but if you do he’ll understand that. He might not need it but he won’t say no if you ask, hon. I can promise you that.”

Eliot meant to deny the very idea. Instead what came out of his mouth was a shaky:

“...Are you sure?”

Hardison’s Nana - his Nana too, she insisted, even after Eliot finally managed to clear up the misunderstanding - was truly a gem of a woman. He could see so much of who Hardison had turned out to be in her kindness, her cleverness, her sense of humor. She’d broken out the picture albums for him, and had even kindly let him keep one photo of a gaptoothed little Alec in a horrible bowl cut, grinning proudly and brandishing a blue ribbon next to his science project. To Eliot’s complete lack of surprise, he’d won every year with zero competition from his peers.

(He told her that he wanted the picture to make fun of Hardison with. It was true, but she still just patted him on the shoulder and told him to keep it. Didn’t say a word when he tucked it into his wallet with unnecessary care.)

They talked for a long time. She gave him a journal to copy directly from her personal recipe book, a lovely clothbound thing spattered with grease and burnt at one edge, smelling of spices and old paper; clearly well used. She told him it was passed down from her mother, who’d put in lots of her mother’s recipes. Eliot took notes as she talked him through every one. He had a good memory but he didn’t want to miss a thing, and her recipes as written were bare bones. He could cook a delicious meal from them easily enough, but it wouldn’t have her heart in it, not like what he wanted to make.

Just talking could only do so much, and eventually they found themselves in the kitchen, demonstrating techniques and favored spice blends. It was nice, just in and of itself. Eliot rarely got to talk shop with other cooks, and it had been a long time since he’d eaten anything home-made by someone else. Nana never went to school for this stuff, but clearly her long years of experience carried their own weight, because she knew what she was talking about.

It was late in the night by the time Eliot left her house, feeling himself flush to his ears as she kissed him on the cheek before waving until he’d driven away. And this after wrapping him up in a tight, warm hug just inside the front door.

“Alec’s done well for himself,” she said, and winked. “Now, next time I want you to bring that young lady of yours as well, you hear me? Make that a promise.”

“I will,” he said.

It was nearly three AM by the time he got home. Parker crashed out of the dark the second he stepped inside, clinging to him as he caught her midair.

“You made Hardison sad on his birthday,” she told him sternly, and headbutted him hard on the temple. As he winced, she pressed her nose down against his shoulder and took a long sniff. “You smell like lemons.”

“You made me sad on Hardison’s birthday,” Eliot sighed. “I mean, mad.”

“Doesn’t matter, you made him sad so I’m not sorry,” she said, and snuggled close.

Eliot carried her through the apartment, avoiding bumping into any furniture through the ease of experience, and into the bedroom. Hardison was sprawled across the mattress, fast asleep with a frown.

Setting Parker down, Eliot got undressed and climbed into the bed. He scooted behind Hardison, leaning up on an elbow to swipe a gentle thumb over the furrow between his brows. It came back, so he wiped at it again, and kissed Alec’s shoulder when he huffed a little and his face relaxed. Eliot kissed him one more time, then lay down behind him with an arm draped over his side.

Rather than going around the bed to the free space on Hardison’s other side, Parker crammed herself onto the mattress right behind Eliot, pushing him further into Hardison and determinedly spooning him.

He craned his neck up to look at her in the dark. She met his gaze solemnly and squeezed tighter, slipping a leg between his.

Eliot fell asleep warm, entangled in the two loves of his life.

He woke stinking hot, still entangled but a lot less happy about it. This happened every time he slept in the middle; he didn’t know why he kept letting it happen. Every single time he’d wake abruptly, heart thrumming in an instinctive alert to something wrong... Only to realize that something was just Parker drooling on his ear, or Hardison’s morning breath in his face, and (every time) both their limbs all wrapped up around him and each other in a very sweet, sweaty, and constricting mess.

The first few times he’d suffered through it, unwilling to wake them. Still basking in the fact that he was here, that he got to be a part of this. But Hardison slept like the dead, and Parker had the ability to wake up and go back to sleep pretty much indefinitely, so Eliot had no compunctions about shoving them aside anymore. He also knew that the other two were night owls who would happily sleep in to eight or even ten if left undisturbed. Eliot woke habitually at five regardless of how late he’d been up, maybe six at the latest; morning snuggles just really weren’t practical.

He wriggled free, clambering over Parker and catching her when the bed dipped and she nearly fell to the floor. Her eyes shot open, clocked him, then dropped shut as she went right back to sleep. He left them there and went to go take a shower, then wandered into the kitchen, grabbing up his new cookbook from his jacket pocket on the way.

Eliot was operating on only a couple hours of sleep; Nana didn’t exactly live next door, and he was frankly lucky he’d got out the cake relatively early in the afternoon, to be able to catch her awake at all. It wasn’t like he’d ruined Hardison’s whole birthday, just that last part they’d set aside for the three of them. They had already hung out with Nate and Sophie in the morning, and Hardison had a long phone call with Nana even before that. Parker had even given Hardison her present: a little statuette originally from a museum in Delhi if Eliot wasn’t mistaken. It was some god or something, but bore a striking resemblance to an Ewok, a detail she’d correctly guessed Hardison would love. He’d been planning on giving his present after the cake, at which point they were going to, on Hardison’s specific request, have a very normal and boring date at home. There had been a lot of jobs lately, so that must have tied into his desire for domesticity - that and ‘birthday rights’ to force them to watch all his nerd movies and lose at various video games.

They hadn’t planned anything for today either, so it wasn’t like those plans couldn’t still happen... And in fact yesterday hadn’t even been Hardison’s real birthday, just the replacement day they’d agreed to celebrate on when a con ran through the actual day. But in the cold light of day he felt a lot more stupid about taking a vegetable-related risk on Hardison’s cake, and then reacting stupidly when they didn’t like it. To be fair, he hadn’t considered it a risk at all, hadn’t even been thinking of his ongoing quest to feed them better so much as the fact that carrot cakes were good and he knew Hardison liked cream cheese frosting - but still. Sophie may have hit the nail on the head, but it was still a stupid and immature nail to let get in the way like he’d done.

He had to at least try to make it up to him.

Accordingly, the breakfast casserole Eliot put together was about as far removed from a healthy meal as any non-dessert in Nana’s cookbook. A baked blueberry French toast creation with lots of sugar, it actually was more of a dessert than anything else. It also took hours in the fridge, but that was alright; not the first time Eliot getting up so much earlier came in handy.

He took the time that it spent in the fridge to clean the apartment. He got out his gift to Hardison, swept and mopped and watered all the plants. Did some laundry, meditated a bit. Pretty much just puttered around for hours, steadily feeling worse and worse about his outburst the day before. Parker had been accepting if not forgiving, and didn’t need an explanation; Hardison might not feel the same. Eliot didn’t expect him to; he was the one clearly in the wrong. He really couldn’t regret the outcome of meeting Nana and getting her recipes, but it should have been on any other day.

He managed to time the casserole just to when the other two got up; just as Eliot pulled it from the oven, Parker wandered into the room.

“Ooh!” she said, and approached with a clear intent to stick her fingers directly into the hot food. Eliot intercepted her with a glare and a whap with his oven-mitt. She retaliated with a vicious pinch to the back of his hand and grabbed a blueberry off the top, tossing it into her mouth and wincing as she burnt herself chewing it.

“Quit that, it’s Hardison’s,” he told her.

“Hardison!” Parker yelled in what appeared to be terror, because of course she would. “I need your help right now!”

He came tumbling into the room, still only half-dressed and clumsily wielding Parker’s taser at the couch. When he saw only the two of them calmly watching him, he attempted to hide it behind his back.

“Oh hey, what’s up everyone,” he said nonchalantly. “Breakfast? Awesome. Smells like something Nana used to make.”

Parker went over and kissed him as she stole the taser out of his hand. She held it up in front of his face.

“Mine,” she scolded.

“Hey, I was ready to defend your life,” Hardison said, mock-offended. “What, you want me to run into an ambush empty-handed? Come on, baby, look who you’re talking to.”

“If you’d let Eliot teach you MMA like me then -”

“Then what, you’d use it as an excuse to choke me out again? I know what you’re after, I recognize that look in your eyes -”

“Hey, come’n eat.” Eliot put two full plates of breakfast casserole down on the island. He braced himself, ready for Hardison to keep giving him the silent treatment or outright call him out on his behavior.

It didn’t happen.

“Morning Eliot,” he said as he came over to grab a stool. He leaned across the island; when Eliot was too surprised to meet him halfway, he rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to grab his face and pull it close enough for a quick kiss. Then he plopped down into his seat, inhaling deeply at his food. “Oh man, this smells exactly like Nana’s Blueberry Thing, I loved that as a kid. How’d you know?”

Eliot slowly sank down from his tiptoes. His stomach hurt a little from being yanked up against the edge of the island, his lips still felt the impression of Hardison’s. He... really didn’t understand.

“Uh, Nana said you liked it best,” he replied a little too woodenly. Neither of his partners seemed to notice.

“You been talkin’ to her without me?” Hardison asked, before taking a bite and moaning. It wasn’t a sex moan - Eliot knew what those sounded like - but it was damn near. “Did you turn into her? What the hell, this is it, this is the Blueberry Thing!”

Parker was at her own plate the moment Eliot said Nana; she was always fascinated by any mention of the woman, and would probably taze him for meeting her first. Right now, she was digging into her own plate, eyes closed.

Eliot cut himself a serving too and sat down to eat with them. He felt tentative, somehow, embarrassed.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Went to talk to her last night. Got some recipes.”

The food was good. Sweet, warm, filling; clearly a comfort meal. He dug in.

When he looked up, Parker and Hardison were both staring at him. She opened her mouth, paused, and then fell silent with a glance to Hardison. He was staring at Eliot, mouth open.

“What the hell, hon?”

Eliot clenched his jaw. He knew what he should say. He’d spent all morning prepping himself to say it.

“...You never opened my present,” he said instead.

Hardison squinted at him.

“Yeah, I wasn’t gonna without you there,” he said pointedly.

“Right, well, here,” Eliot said and shoved it his direction before going back to his food. He could feel them staring at him but didn’t lift his head, kept shoveling bite after bite into his mouth as he heard Hardison final tearing at the wrapping paper, grumbling incoherently to himself.

A moment later, the angry mumbles got louder when he opened the first box to reveal the second one.

By the time Hardison got down to the final layer, a small paper booklet six boxes in, Parker was snickering rudely and his muttering was about half swear-words. Eliot still didn’t look up, kept waiting until Hardison actually read the gift.

(He’d thought it would be funny, obviously. He’d thought it would be hilarious, to watch Hardison getting more and more irritated by the wrapping paper. And he knew the gift itself wasn’t anything much, but Eliot usually prided himself on being good at getting people things they didn’t know they wanted, or didn’t think they’d ever get. He knew it was childish and kind of stupid right from the jump, but money didn’t really mean too much to Hardison, and he was confident he’d love this.

After his behavior last night, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Immaturity took on a different tone right now.)

“‘Eliot Tickets,’“ he heard Hardison read off slowly, then - “no.”

He glanced up sharply, but it’d been a sound of delight. Hardison’s eyes were wide and he was flipping through the pages rapidly with an ever-widening grin.

“No nerd jokes for twenty-four hours, back massage, favorite food, favorite sex, get-out-of-scolding free, dessert for dinner, oh my god Comic-Con?! Get to play with your hair, get to pick your cover, computer lessons, videogames, sleeping in, what kind of goldmine is this -”

Parker leaned over his shoulder as he kept going, pointing out her favorites as they worked their way quickly through the rest of the little booklet. It wasn’t horrendously long, but long enough: one ticket for every year. Twenty-eight in all.

Twenty-nine, including the piece of paper Eliot had slipped in front of the last page at seven-thirty this morning, before carefully re-wrapping every box.

“‘One I’m sorry,’” Parker read out loud. She met Eliot’s eyes as she asked, “Are you gonna use it?”

Hardison hummed thoughtfully, then picked it up to reveal the last page.

“No, I’mma save this for just the right time,” he said, waving it in the air. He looked Eliot in the eye and smirked meaningfully. “You messed up, man, you didn’t put an expiration date on any of these.”

“Dammit,” Eliot grumbled, like he’d just realized.

(It hadn’t been a mistake.)

“Don’t need that right now anyway,” Hardison continued, tucking it back into the middle of the book. “This, on the other hand - this one I’m cashing in now.”

Eliot took the little piece of paper Hardison ripped free. He sighed.

“Really?”

“Hell yes, now get in here - and no complaining, them’s the rules you made your own self. You too, Parker, c’mere.”

Eliot stood up and rounded the island, halting with a sigh just before reaching Hardison, who stood to meet him. He ripped the coupon in half.

“All right, here goes.”

Tucking the pieces into his pocket, Eliot stepped forward into Hardison’s outstretched arms, tucking himself in close and hugging him back tightly. A moment later, he felt Parker collide with them both, one arm over his shoulders and a leg around his hips. He sighed again, this time into Hardison’s shoulder, and let himself sway when they did, a gentle rock back and forth.

He closed his eyes when they started to sting.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into Hardison’s shoulder after a long minute. “Shouldn’ta left.”

“That does not count, Eliot,” Hardison told him firmly, and didn’t let go. “I did not use my coupon, I still got my coupon, you aren’t getting out of anythin’ with that you hear me?”

Parker snickered behind him.

“Not getting out of anything at all,” she said, and squeezed tighter. “We’ve got you trapped.”

(The next time he fed them vegetables, it was a Nana recipe and Hardison ate without complaint. Parker ate because she wanted to know what it felt like to be a little Hardison, and proclaimed the experience ‘like one of my harnesses’ which was obviously a very positive review.

The next time he fed them vegetables and it wasn’t a Nana recipe, they exchanged a look and then each ate exactly half of their servings. The rest they snuck back onto Eliot’s plate one bite at a time like he wouldn’t notice. He let them get away with it and looked down at everyone’s empty plates afterward with a weird content feeling relaxing his shoulders.

The next time he saw Nana, her words on Hardison’s bragging proved embarrassingly correct. She and Parker got along like a house on fire, and if left alone too long would probably cause a house on fire, and Hardison just watched them with a giant grin like he didn’t see the danger. Nana asked Eliot if he’d considered what they talked about last time right in front of them both, proving beyond all doubt that she shared Hardison’s love of driving him goddamn crazy for fun.

The next carrot cake he made was for Sophie and Nate. He refused to call it a thank you, but she did and also asked him to make that little French quiche she’d talked about like she honestly expected “it had spinach, I think, something green anyway, it was very light, and some kind of unexpected spice too?” would be enough to go on. Nate was no help whatsoever.)

#leverage fic #leverage ff #leverage ot3 #hardison/parker/eliot #thiefsome #my fic #anonymous #replies #aah they are hard to write much as i love them

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years ago

Note

What do you think the Animorphs would be like playing D&D? Not "the Animorphs in a D&D world", but the Animorphs actually sitting down and having a campaign of D&D. Like the classes/races they'd pick, their play styles, wacky shenanigans (because we all know it would happen).

[Credit to Cates for 100% of the character builds, and most of the lore, in this AU. In case you were wondering, I’m the Jake-style “never read the manual” chaotic-dumbass bard of our campaign; she’s the Marco-style “uses the rules exactly as much or little as needed” DM.]

It was decided almost right away that one on the team had any alignment. As DM, Marco attempted to start there, only to have Ax begin questioning whether the manual’s explanations of “good” and “evil” truly captured human ethics on a grand scale. Tobias claimed that Ax was looking at it all wrong, that the moralities were only default behavior types within the game, and that within this particular context morality didn’t matter. Cassie got very concerned about the idea of context-dependent morality, Rachel declared that the book was stupid and short-sighted for claiming that destroying things was always bad, Jake quietly asked for the fourth or fifth time if this game was actually a good idea…

“Fine!” Marco announced. “You’re all amoral characters. Happy?”

“‘Amoral’ implies that we’re immoral, doesn’t it?” Cassie asked. “Or that we exist outside the spectrum of moralities?”

“Just…” Marco rolled his eyes. “Everyone leave that spot on your character sheet blank, okay? If it ever comes up, we’ll deal with it on a case-by-case basis.”

“Yes,” Ax said, “although you never did answer my question about the implied ethical structure of this universe.”

After that, character creation went fairly smoothly. Kind of.

“Why does Dennis need a backstory, again?” Jake asked, looking down at his sheet.

“Dennis?” Marco said. “Dennis?

“You already said I wasn’t allowed to use ‘Dylan’ or ‘Brad’, so…’”

“C’mon man, this is D’nD. There are no Dennises in medieval fantasy epics.”

“Fine.” Jake crossed out and rewrote the name at the top of his character sheet. “Why does Keith need a backstory?”

“To explain his motivation.”

“You just said that the whole time we’re going to be chased around by orcs and whatnot. Isn’t not dying enough motivation?”

“You really don’t understand this game, do you?” Rachel said.

“I really don’t understand this game,” Jake agreed.

“My character’s a dragonborn rogue named Joan, and she’s the greatest gymnast of all time.” Rachel added a Dexterity marker to her sheet with a flourish.

“I thought I was a dragonborn,” Jake said. “Is that allowed?”

“Yeah, we can have as many dragonborns as you all want.” Marco shrugged. “We just can’t have multiple bards. And since you called dibs on that class, and Rachel wants to be a rogue, we’re fine.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jake said. “I just want to help out the team. Or, uh, Keith does?”

“Great.”

“So that’s my backstory, right? Being a bard?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, at the same time Marco said, “No!”

In the end, Marco declared that if neither Rachel nor Jake could come up with a proper backstory, he was making their characters cousins. Tobias, who had a better flair for the romantic, declared that said cousins were from an internationally feared family of highwaymen.

“So does that get us any extra skills, coming from a family of pirates?” Rachel asked.

“Maybe it’d explain how good your character is at gymnastics,” Jake said. “Because of riggings and all.”

“Highwaymen.” Marco looked up from where he was trying to salvage Keith’s stats from the hopeless tangle of Jake’s incorrect math. “Tobias said you guys are highwaymen, not pirates.”

“What are pirates but highwaymen of the sea?” Tobias asked, tilting his head in thought.

“Just put us down as jewel thieves.” Rachel made a note on her own sheet. “Jewel thieves of diverse methodology. Wherever jewels can be found, there we are with threats of violence to take them away.”

“By the way, why is Ax now a tiefling?” Tobias asked Marco.

“I told Marco I have no preference for my class and race,” Ax said. “And the word is most pleasant, tea-fling. Ffflllling.”

“They’re blue and have tails.” Marco smirked at Tobias. “It’s perfect!”

Rachel and Jake might’ve been vague on the idea of backstory, but Ax was quite definite.

“I am Eldrias the tiefling, fffflllling, paladin. She was raised by cows,” he announced.

“Don’t you mean raised by wolves?” Jake said. “Isn’t that a thing, raised by wolves?”

“Uh-huh,” Marco said, “since your land-pirates make perfect sense.”

“Wolves are beautiful animals, but they pale in comparison to cows,” Ax said. “Among other things, wolves’ meat is not so succulent and does not pair nearly as well with french fries.”

“Okay then,” Jake said, “raised by cows. Got it.”

Becoming a barbarian was Cassie’s idea. She spun through the manual in a rapid burst of pages, brushing gentle fingertips over the beautifully rendered illustrations, and then pressed it shut. “Barbarian,” she said. “That’s the one that can protect the team the best, right? So I’ll be a barbarian.”

Marco laughed. “All right then. Barbarian it is. Anything else in mind, for this barbarian of yours?”

Cassie tapped a finger against her lower lip, fluttering through the first several pages of the manual once again. “I could make my character a big, tall guy, right?”

“Sure.”

“But I want pointy ears.” She grinned at the rest of the table, somewhat sheepish.

“Half-elf barbarian, then?”

“Half-elf barbarian.” Cassie looked down at the sheet in front of her. “He can be named Reisgalan Von Schwartzel of the Morsgalath Half-Elves, Lord of the Plains and Wielder of…” She glanced around. “What’s that thing with the spiky ball on a stick?”

“Mace,” Rachel provided.

“Mace is that spray you use on bears and muggers,” Jake said.

“And it’s also a spiky ball on a stick.” Marco glanced at Cassie’s sheet. “You have a backstory for Reisgalan Von Whatshisface?”

“Hmmmm. Can I be widowed and have a tragically dead prince I must avenge?”

“Is it me?” Jake smiled hopefully.

“What?” Cassie frowned at him. “No. That’d be horrible.” She looked over at Marco. “Uh, can my character be a guy and also have a dead husband? Is that allowed?”

“Yeah, sure,” Marco said. “I’m the ruler of this universe, so I say it’s fine. And Tobias is the designated rules lawyer, so he’ll probably have some reason that it’s not.”

“I am not rules-lawyering!”

Marco looked at Ax’s character sheet, and then pointedly back up at Tobias. “Ax, how did you end up as not just a paladin, but a paladin that’s even more overpowered than the standard build?”

“Paladins are allowed.” Tobias shrugged. “It’s right there in the manual.”

“Ax, how you have splint armor?” Marco demanded.

“Paladins can wear Heavy armor,” Tobias sing-songed.

Marco growled.

Ax squinted at his character sheet. “Tobias says when I get to Level Three, I will take the Oath of Vengeance and take a Vow of Enmity. I will know the spells Thunderous Smite, Command, and Detect Magic.”

Marco’s face was turning an interesting shade of red.

“Oh, and Eldrias the paladin is taking Great Weapon as her Fighting Style.” Tobias wasn’t bothering to hide his smirk. “It’s all perfectly legal.”

Ax frowned at Marco. “Banging your head against the table with that level of force may have an adverse effect on your brain’s ability to function.”

“I’m not rules-lawyering for selfish gain,” Tobias said loftily, looking over Marco’s prone form. “And besides, Ax is new at this. He needs all the help he can get.”

“You find yourselves in a magical land.” Marco made a wild gesture in the air. It was probably meant to look dramatic and mysterious. “A land known as Falicornia.”

“Marco sucks at naming things,” Rachel whispered loudly.

“Rachel sucks at listening,” Marco whispered more loudly.

“You were saying?” Jake asked.

“This magical land is under threat from the dread god Cthulu! You must stop him through using the Philosopher’s Stone, which is powerful but cannot be used except by those who do not wish to use it. It contains many powerful temptations for the bearer. You must journey across the land, facing many dangers, to bring it to the only magical mirror that can destroy it before Cthulu has the chance to rise from that mirror and take over the world.”

Cassie raised her hand.

“Yes?” Marco said.

“Why does Cthulu want to take over the world?” she asked. “Does he need it for something?”

Marco sighed. “He wants to take over because he’s Cthulu. Any other questions?”

“First question: did you steal more of this plot from The Lord of the Rings, or Harry Potter?” Rachel said immediately. “Second question—” She turned to Ax. “Have we showed you those movies?”

“He’s reading the books first,” Tobias said.

“I’m reading the books first,” Ax agreed.

“You were saying about Cthulu,” Jake said to Marco.

“Yes. He wants to take over because he’s Cthulu,” Marco glared at Rachel. “Just because.“

“Actually,” Tobias said, “the original version of Cthulu was kind of like the Silver Surfer of Norse Mythology, and his motivation—”

“He wants to take over because he’s Cthulu.” Marco took a deep breath. “Anyway. Moving on.”

“Okay, you’re here.” Marco pointed to the G.I. Joe figure sitting in the middle of their somewhat crudely drawn map. “The goblins are…” One after another, he set four white pawns from his mom’s chess set around the G.I. Joe that represented Jake, forming a half-circle that separated him from Ax’s Smurf, Cassie’s My Little Pony miniature, and Tobias’s Precious Moments angel figurine. “Rachel is, uh…” He set the teddy bear pencil topper several inches back, between two goblin-pawns. “There. So.” Marco looked up at Jake. “You’re under attack. You’re up first in initiative order. What’re you going to do?”

Jake frowned, surveying the scene in front of him. “I have magic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, so I’ll use magic to turn myself into a bird, and then—”

“Yeah, no.”

“Then I’ll turn my teammates into birds, and they can—”

“You cannot turn yourself into a bird, you cannot turn anyone else into a bird, no one is turning into a bird or any other animal at any point in this game.” Marco glanced over at Tobias. “No offense.”

“Oh, I totally agree,” Tobias said. “A Level One bard performing an animal shapes transmutation? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Anyway.” Marco pointed at Jake’s G.I. Joe figurine. “Assuming we’re sticking to handheld weapons, what else do you want to do?”

“I… shoot the goblin?” Jake suggested. “With my…” He flipped over his character sheet, squinting at his own handwriting. “With my board-sword.”

“Pretty sure you meant ‘broadsword,’” Rachel said. “Okay, Jake killed the goblin, now what?”

Cassie peered over Jake’s shoulder. “It could just be a sword made out of boards, you don’t know.”

“Jake only has thirteen out of sixty odds of killing the goblin on one go,” Marco said.

Tobias flipped open his own manual to the entry on goblins. “Where are you getting these numbers from?”

Marco selected two dice from the pile, handing them both to Jake. “Oh, I just figure that if the goblin’s got an armor class of seven and five HP, then Jake’s got a thirteen-in-twenty chance of scoring a hit and then a two-in-six chance of it being deadly, given his hit dice. So if you reduce twenty-six over one-twenty down it’s thirteen in sixty. Like, point-two-one-seven out of one. Simple math.” He gestured at Jake. “Roll those.”

“You and I have very different definitions of the word ‘simple.’” Jake looked up. “Uh, ten and the other one says four?”

“You grievously injured but did not kill the goblin,” Marco said graciously. “Now it’s the turn for this leftmost goblin, who is going to run and stick a sword through Rachel…” He rolled, and winced. “That’s fifteen to hit, and two damage?”

“What’s that mean for my little rogue?” Rachel waved her pencil topper at him.

“You got stabbed,” Marco said.

“Uh-huh.” Rachel picked up her pen and sheet. “Where?”

Marco shrugged. “The leg, let’s say. Uh, upper thigh?”

“Mm-hmm.” She wrote that down.

“Okay, then.” Marco glanced at his sheet. “Next in initiative order is—”

“I cast psionic blast as a Level One spell, which would cause additional damage to fiends or the undead. Are they undead goblins?” Tobias asked.

Marco rolled his eyes. “Nope.”

“Then they each suffer three points of damage and do not have the opportunity to make saving throws for the next minute and a half,” Tobias said. “That’s my first spell slot today.”

“Okay.” Marco tipped over one of the goblin pawns. “That one’s dead. Cassie?”

“That one’s threatening Ax?” She pointed at the pawn within the same square as the Smurf figurine.

“Yep.”

She nodded. “Then I smash its head in with my mace.” She rolled. “Eight to hit, eight damage?”

“Oh yeah, you just annihilated that one.”

“Good, good, so now can I mace the one that attacked Rachel?”

“Cool your jets.” Marco held up both hands. “You don’t get to do multiple hulk-smashes in one round until several levels up from here.”

Cassie wilted a little. “Okay. But I want to run over next to that one to be ready to mace it soon.”

“All right, center goblin is going to try and swing his big old greatsword at Cassie as an attack of opportunity…” Marco rolled. “And that’s a miss. Rachel, you’re up.”

“I’m unconscious,” Rachel said.

Marco gave her a blank look. “No you’re not.”

“Yes she is,” Ax said. “You just allowed that goblin— gob-blin? Goo-blin? —to stab her.”

“I did not allow— The dice—” Marco took a deep breath. “Rachel, you only took two points of damage. Go ahead and make a turn.”

“Okay, you clearly said…” Rachel glanced at her own notes. “That the goblin stuck its sword through my upper thigh. And apparently these are pretty big swords. No way in hell that misses the artery, not if I’m only about human-sized at the time. You also said that the goblin has its sword back, which means it pulled the sword out, which means that by now I have definitely lost enough blood to be unconscious. It’s just basic logic.”

Marco opened his mouth halfway. “That’s not how damage functions in this game,” he said at last.

“No, she’s right,” Jake said. “She wouldn’t necessarily be dead from blood loss by now, but on the super-narrow chance she’s still conscious, she’s not going to have the, like, grip strength to be shooting people with arrows or anything. That’s just how getting stabbed works.”

“Actually…” Tobias looked up from where he was sorting his flash cards of wizard spells. “In combat time, each turn is six seconds. So it hasn’t been five minutes of game-time. It’s been less than three seconds.”

“So this goblin managed to stick its sword all the way through me, pull it loose, and then get back into position to make a different attack in less than a second?” Rachel said. “And I don’t need to take a second or two to react to having been stabbed?”

“Yes!” Tobias said.

“This game is not closely aligned with the timing and functions of real combat,” Ax pointed out.

Marco let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a shriek. “No shit, Sherlock! Can we please just play by the rules?”

“I’m just saying it’s not realistic,” Rachel muttered. “You get run through the leg with a sword, you bleed to death. That’s how it goes.”

“Would you please shoot someone already?” Marco said.

“If you insist.”

At Level Two, Tobias’s gnome wizard joined the School of Divination for exactly one game. “He’s rules-lawyering things that haven’t even happened yet,” Marco cried, throwing out his hands like this was the greatest injustice ever visited upon humanity. At which point Tobias decided that discretion was the better part of valor and switched to the School of Evocation. Marco’s eye stopped twitching.

“No, no, no.” Marco leaned over to look at Jake’s roll. “You add your charisma modifier to your attack roll, and then your strength modifier to your damage roll.”

“So he adds twelve to his roll?” Cassie looked at her own sheet. “I add seventeen to my roll?”

“Modifier. Not the whole stat. Mod-if-i-er.” Marco groaned loudly. “Is Tobias the only one who even tried to read the manual?”

“C’mon, man.” Jake shrugged, grinning. “When have you ever known me to do the assigned reading?”

“I have Tobias here to summarize the manual for me,” Rachel pointed out. “Why bother?”

“I did attempt to read the manual. Man. Well. It was not the most boring human book ever written, but it was very repetitive.” Ax glanced around at all of them. “Not to say that all human books are bad, even if they are all repetitive,” he added quickly. “Take the books of Harry Potter, which are acceptable in addition to being repetitive.”

“‘Acceptable’?” Tobias shook his head. “‘Repetitive’? You, sir, are wounding my entire species — one of my species — Just don’t diss the Potter.”

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ professor,” Ax intoned.

Laughing, Tobias leaned over to bump their shoulders together. “I take it back. I love you, Ax-man. Never change.”

“Anyway,” Cassie said, “we elected Tobias party leader, so he’s the only one who really needs to know how to play, right?”

“‘Elected’ is a pretty strong word for it. The way I remember it, I was like…” Marco put on a deeper voice, “‘Who wants to be party leader?’ and Jake yelled ‘NOT IT’ so loud that he probably startled pigeons in the next county over. And then Tobias was the first one to recover from the shock long enough to volunteer.”

“I didn’t yell it, I said it,” Jake mumbled. “Said it enthusiastically.”

“And you’re wrong. We did nose-goes.” Rachel tapped her own nose to demonstrate. “Tobias lost.”

Ax’s eyes widened. “So you and Cassie covering your noses was a primitive selection procedure in the manner of duck-duck-goose? I thought we were all simply being polite by hiding our hideous human orifices from one another.”

“Anyway,” Tobias said, “as party leader, I’m declaring that we can whine about noses — and bipedalism — at a later time. For now, let’s play.”

“Ah, yes.” Ax looked down at the dice, and then back up at Marco. “Who was attacking whom, again?”

Marco stared around the board, and then back at the dice. “Like I remember that now!”

It was a small miracle that they all kept showing up after that first week. Tobias and Marco were the only ones with both the skill and the enthusiasm to be any good at the game. Cassie and Rachel lacked the necessary motivation: Cassie tended to get lost in long conversations with NPCs and never advanced the plot at all, whereas Rachel was likely to start climbing the walls with impatience after half an hour of sitting still. Ax and Jake were both reasonably enthusiastic but terrible: Jake paid no attention at all to the math, and Ax paid too much. They had one set of dice between the six of them, if one was generous and called rolling a d6 twice the same as rolling a d12. (It wasn’t, but Marco’s and Ax’s attempts to explain this always made everyone else’s eyes glaze over.)

Seriously, though, Marco knew perfectly well why they kept showing up. And it had nothing to do with everyone getting on board with Tobias’s super-geeky idea. They’d tried Dungeons and Dragons, and they hadn’t actually started liking it.

It had nothing to do with the storyline. Or the dice. Or the characters. They weren’t here for swords or goblins. They didn’t drop everything to spend four hours a week in each other’s company because they liked the game.

Duh.

Of course, even their love for each other could be tested, at times, by their sheer incompetence as players.

“We’re still in the undercave?” Jake groaned, looking at the game board. “We’ve been down here for like six weeks!”

“Yeah, ‘cause we’re stuck.” Rachel glared around the table. “Because we keep trying to fight the ooze monster and then almost dying. Because we suck at this game.”

“Still say there should’ve been illithids,” Tobias muttered. “We’re in the cave of the illithids, but instead we’ve got apocalyptic ooze where there isn’t supposed to be any. That’s why we’re stuck.”

Marco sighed into his hands. “For the last time, man, we’re not having any stupid mind flayers in this game. There is a way out, I promise you, if you guys would just stop and figure it out.”

“I stab the ooze?” Cassie suggested.

“You take fourteen acid damage and permanently blunt your sword.” Marco didn’t bother to look up. “Just like last time.”

“Ugh.” Cassie wrote down her new HP. “At least I ruled out repeated stabbing as a way out?”

“Okay, okay.” Jake stared at the game board, yet again failing to take the this map not to scale memo. “We can figure this out. Is it a cave kind of like those caves under Leeran?”

Marco lifted his head, tossing his hair out of his face. “I got schlooped back to Earth before you guys got to see those, remember?”

“They were very beautiful,” Ax said, “and also full of toxic eels. So perhaps Prince Jake’s comparison is apt.”

“The real toxic eel is the friends we made along the way.” Rachel tilted her chair back, picking at her manicure. “Think we should just call it a day?”

“No, no, Jake’s right.” Cassie stared at the board. “I believe in us.”

“It was kinda cool in the Leeran caves, so sorry you missed it,” Jake said to Marco. “I was dead and missed the Battle of Trafalgar, though, so it all balances out?”

“The Battle of Trafalgar was not cool at all.” Marco rolled his eyes. “It was a battle. It was gross and loud and bloody. Is no one going to try anything else?”

“I pull out my rope and my flint, I set the rope on fire, we all die of smoke inhalation,” Rachel drawled. “There, I got us out of the cave.”

“And into the afterlife,” Ax said solemnly. “If, indeed, this game has an afterlife. It was designed by humans, so I assume… Soom. That it must.”

“Look, if we could just fight the mind flayer instead,” Tobias said, “there are clear strategies in place for how to fend off psychic attacks, and even if a few of us end up as mind-witnesses we could still use a handful of different spells—” He swung his copy of the manual around to face Marco, pointing to a spot low on the open page. “If you’ll just look at what the book says…”

Marco slammed the book shut, hard.

Tobias had to yank his hand back to avoid smashed fingers. “Watch it!” he snapped.

“Guys,” Jake said. “Let’s—”

“Rule. Zero.” Marco flattened a hand on top of the closed book. “I’m the DM here, and I get to say that there are no mind flayers and definitely no mind witnesses, because I say so. I’m the Ellimist of this little universe, and you don’t get a counter-argument.”

Rachel snorted loudly. “Bad comparison. Tobias argues with the real Ellimist all the time.”

“Only when he’s doing something stupid.” Tobias was looking at Marco, not at her. “Or breaking the rules of his own game.”

“Tobias…” Jake inhaled slowly, massaging the bridge of his nose. “It’s just a game, okay? Marco… We are kinda stuck, dude, no offense. Couldn’t we at least try to fight whatever it is Tobias wants, see if that gets us out of here?”

Marco pushed to his feet, face flushed. “I’m running this game, because you people decided I should. And I don’t give a fuck how much Bird-Boy complains, this game is not going to involve anyone getting psychically mind-controlled. It will not feature alien tadpoles that crawl inside people’s brains and take over their bodies.” He swept a hand across the board. “There will be no illithids, there will be no brain golems, there will be no controllers—”

Marco snapped his mouth shut.

There was a long silence. Tobias stared at the floor.

“Mind-witnesses,” Marco said at last. “I meant mind-witnesses.”

THUNK.

Figurines and dice scattered everywhere. The play-dough lump of ooze flattened underneath the second game board Cassie had just dropped on top of the first.

“Anyway,” she said, giving everyone an embarrassed smile. “How about we switch to Monopoly for a while?”

“I call being the little dog piece,” Rachel said, pulling the box open.

“I’m sorry,” Tobias whispered to Marco, as Ax began clattering through the pieces and asking Jake questions. “I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah.” Marco pulled the bank toward him and counting out notes. “Same here, man. Uh, y’know. Sorry I…”

“We’re cool. We’re cool?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Does this highly successful roll mean I have first chance to stab Income Tax with my—” Ax squinted at his game piece “—car? So I’ll be attempting to inflict damage on Income Tax by running it over?”

“Many have tried that strategy,” Rachel intoned. “None have succeeded so far.”

“You know that your beloved manual lists exactly the same stats for hawks, eagles, and owls, right?” Marco asked, grinning evilly.

“What? No.” Tobias frantically flipped toward the back of the book.

“Anyway, is he right?” Cassie asked as Tobias searched. “Are we all supposed to be dead right now?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Marco said. “Yes, the explosion would have done a lot of damage to all of you—”

“Thanks, Jake,” Rachel snarked.

Jake sighed loudly. “How was I supposed to know you had to throw the hand grenade after you pulled the pin?”

“You mean the part where Ax and Tobias were both yelling ‘toss it, toss it,’ and you were like ‘no, I’m gonna do an investigation check first’?” she said. “And then we all died?”

“Actually, I believe Cassie was raging at the time when the ceiling fell on us all,” Ax said. “Therefore, her damage would be halved.”

“Hell yeah!” Cassie laughed. “So it’s just…” She peered at Marco’s roll and winced. “Everyone else… in the entire party… who automatically failed a death check. Right, Tobias?”

“No,” Marco said loudly, “because Jake cast Teleportation Circle and got you all out of there before the ceiling fell.”

“But Tobias believes that that would be allowing too many actions on a single turn. Uurn. Earn,” Ax said. “And that Jake wouldn’t have time to set up the circle even if he did have a bonus action left.”

“For fuck’s sake, do you want to end on a total party kill?” Marco demanded.

Rachel smiled sweetly. “It’s not a TPK if Cassie’s still alive.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “Oh, in that case—”

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Tobias sounded outraged.

“Am I dead?” Rachel pouted. “Just when this stupid game was starting to grow on me.”

“No, not that.” Tobias stabbed a finger on the page. “It says right here. ‘For hawk, see: eagle.’ It fucking classifies hawks as a fucking subspecies of eagle!”

“What were you just saying about us following the manual at the expense of our lives?” Marco said smugly.

Tobias stared in betrayed horror at the page for another second. And then he tossed the entire book clear over his shoulder and out of the room. It clattered loudly in the hall.

“So as I was saying, Jake cast Teleportation Circle,” Marco said. “And teleported you all out of there.”

“So we’re… not dead?” Cassie asked.

“Given the nature of teleportation, perhaps we are both dead and not, existing in the gap between states,” Ax said. “Like when our consciousness was trapped in z-space, and yet our matter remained on Earth. Or we exist in multiple universes at once, some in which we have died and some in which we yet live.”

“Yeah, cool, Schrödinger’s party,” Rachel said. “Blah, blah. Anyway, I’m gonna punch Jake in the arm for being a dumbass. In-game and out-of-game.”

“Good luck with that.” Marco cackled his evil DM cackle. “The only universe I care about is the one where the whole lot of you give me an initiative roll. Because I didn’t say Jake teleported you to a safe location, just a different one.”

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sorry-apsalar · 4 years ago

Text

I Kissed a Bot and I Liked It

I started watching Futurama recently on a whim (currently only a few episodes into season 4 so if things aren't consistent with stuff that happens later in the series, that's why) and I'm really enjoying it so far except for a few things. Mainly the compulsory heteronormativity that's present in every episode (that I've seen so far) that deals with romantic relationships (with sort of one exception but it doesn't really count in my opinion). Which is mostly whatever, it's to be expected, especially since it's an older show but the Fry/Leela stuff is frustrating because personally I feel like they don't have good romantic chemistry (I'm open to this changing later but I doubt it will) and this is just another case of 'there's a male main character and a female main character and they're friends, therefore they must have romantic feelings for each other' that I've seen a hundred times before. It's aggravating enough that it spurred a fic idea for an AU where Fry is a repressed gay man. I decided to make it an Xmas gift for myself for reasons and because why not?

So Merry Xmas everyone, especially me!

The future was great. Everything about it was grand and exciting and Fry had friends now. Yeah, sure he was still a delivery boy but he was delivering a variety of things across space alongside his friends. And yeah, sure his living area was smaller than he would’ve chosen and it was technically a closet but he was roommates with his best friend and despite being a closet, it was still a little bigger than his old apartment had been. So, the future was great in every possible way even if parts of it made little to no sense.

Luckily, he had friends so some of those things that made no sense, he could ask about and have explained to him. Sometimes they didn’t even make fun of him for not knowing. There was one thing though that he was afraid to ask about. What exactly made it a scary thing to ask about he wasn’t sure of but it wasn’t because he worried they’d think him stupid because everyone already thought that and honestly it was true, brains weren’t his thing. The more often it popped up though, the more he wanted an explanation. He finally reaching a breaking point on that one evening when watching TV with Bender after returning home from work.

In an episode of All My Circuits two of the side characters ended up hooking up. Which wasn’t weird in itself, it was a soap opera, everyone was pairing up and breaking up all the time, but what was odd was the fact that it was two dudes. It was far from the first time Fry had seen such things in the past month or so he’d been here for, in other shows, movies, and even in prior episodes, same-sex couples popped up fairly frequently and if there was ever any issue with the couple, that was never one of them. So…

“Hey Bender,” he said as the credits for the episode rolled, glancing over at Bender sitting on the couch next to him, “those two robots that got together at the end there are both uh… men, right?”

The look Bender gave him reflected how stupid of a question that was. But how else was he supposed to broach the topic? He wasn’t good with words. “Man-bots yes, what else would they be?” Bender replied, sounding annoyed as he looked.

“Well uh… I don’t know but…” Unable to maintain eye contact, Fry looked away, instead focusing his gaze on one of the many crumbled cans of Slurm on the floor by the coffee table. He shouldn’t have brought this up because it was… uh… awkward or something. But it was too late now and he needed to understand because he just did. “If they’re both man-bots then why are they a couple?” And why wasn’t that viewed as remarkable by anyone else? “Isn’t that a thing normally only men and women are supposed to do?”

“Wow Fry, of all people I didn’t expect you to be homophobic.”

“What?” Fry snapped his gaze back to look at Bender. “I’m not… whatever you just said, I don’t even know what that means.” Which meant it could describe him but the context made it sound bad so it wasn’t him… probably. ‘Phobic’ meant fear, right? What did ‘homo’ mean though?

“It means you hate gay people,” Bender said as he pulled another cigar out of his casing. “Though I suppose that was common back when you came from now that I think about it.” After lighting up, he blew a cloud of smoke in Fry’s general direction. “I forget how primitive you are sometimes. That’s fine though, I hate humans so we both harbor hatred for an entire group of people. Though my hatred’s justified while yours isn’t.”

Fry coughed, waving a hand in front of his face to clear the smoke. “I don’t hate gay people.” He never had even if that’s what he’d been lowkey taught at the church he’d been forced to go to as a kid and young teen. “I just… it’s supposed to be a sin, right? Like… you go to hell forever if you chose to be gay. Though… I guess I don’t really believe in God anymore so… I don’t know. But still… that’s normal now? Or uh… or least acceptable? To choose to be gay, I mean?”

The look Bender gave him this time might’ve been a concerned one if it had come from almost anyone else. “You don’t ‘choose’ to be gay. Did you meatbags really used to believe it was a choice?”

“Uh… that’s what I was always taught. Or that like… gay people are confused and think that being able to recognize that another man is attractive means you’re attracted to him.” And that that was wrong and shameful and should never be admitted to once one was cleared of that misunderstanding. Because marriage and love and all that was supposed to be between a man and a woman for the sole purpose of making babies or whatever. The fact that that viewpoint was no longer common a thousand years later wasn’t surprising now that he really thought about it but somehow it seemed significant.

Bender took another puff from his cigar before replying. “Well, it ain’t a choice. Now shut up, the next episode’s starting.”

Fry sighed as he pulled his legs up onto the couch to hug to his chest as he turned his attention back on the TV. But now that the topic had been brought up, he didn’t seem able to fully focus. The fact that the episode dealt with the gay romance and treated it like every other side romance in the show made it even harder not to think about. Not that there was even a whole lot to think about, just that that kind of thing was socially acceptable now. Which was… a good thing, yes, definitely a good thing. It didn’t affect him any of course, he was attracted to women and only women, but it was good for the people it did affect. …

“What about robots?” he eventually asked.

“What about them?” Bender didn’t even look away from the TV.

“Is it a choice for you? Or are you manufactured that way? And if so is it a choice whatever or whoever is making you makes or is it like random or something?”

“Oh, you’re still thinking about that, huh? That kind of thing develops at the same time as our personality so it’s not a choice anyone makes. It’s complex stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”

That was undoubtedly true but before Fry could drop it, he wanted to know one more thing. … “What about you? Are you uh… you know?”

With the start of the ad-break, Bender finally turned his head to look at Fry again. “Are you asking if I’m gay?”

Fry nodded. How rude was it to ask that kind of thing? Surely it had to be mostly chill since it was socially acceptable now.

“What’s it’s to you? Why do you want to know?” Oh no, he seemed offended. Though that might just be him being him.

“I’m just curious.” There was no harm wanting to know that kind of thing about one’s best friend, right? “We’ve been best friends for a whole month now and I don’t even know what kind of people you’re into.”

“Very well,” he relaxed, seemingly taking that as an acceptable answer, “if you must know, I’m pansexual.”

“Um… does that mean you’re attracted to pans?” What else could it mean? This was the future and lots of things were weird and Bender was a robot so maybe that was just a thing.

“No! What kind of idiot would even think that? It means somebody’s gender plays no role in whether or not I find the attractive. For me the only thing I care about is if they’re a robot.”

“Okay, I guess.”

“What about you Fry?” Bender pointed an almost accusing finger at him. “Now it’s your turn. Are you gay?”

“Uh… no.” It almost sounded like a question even to his own ears. But he wasn’t gay, he was normal, always had been even if he had been picked on in middle and high school with accusations of being gay.

Bender gave him a skeptical look but seemed to shrug as he turned his attention back onto the TV; the ad-break was over. With a sigh, Fry followed suit. He was more than ready to stop talking about that subject now.

Later that night

“Wake up Bender,” Fry said, shaking Bender by the shoulders.

Bender groaned as the metal flap that covered his eyes when he slept lifted. “Huh? What?” Understandably he both looked and sounded sleepy. Which Fry felt bad for but this was urgent.

“If I was gay, which I’m not, but if I was, it’d be okay with you, right?” After the thought that it might not be okay with Bender had come to him while he lay in bed, waiting for sleep, he hadn’t been able to get any rest so he needed to know for sure.

“Are you kidding me? That’s what you woke me up for? To ask a dumb question like that? Man, Fry get out of her and go back to bed.” Bender put a hand on Fry’s shoulder to push him back into the closet, hard but nowhere near as hard as he was capable of so really it probably counted as gentle.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Fry said, putting his foot in the door before Bender could close it. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Bender rolled his eyes. “Yes Fry, if you were gay, I’d be fine with it. Happy?”

“Uh yeah, thanks pal. Sorry for waking you up, I just wanted to know. Even though I’m not gay so it doesn’t really matter, I just wanted to know if you’d accept me even if I was because… I don’t know. I just wanted to know I guess.”

“Yeah, whatever. Go back to sleep meatbag.” With that Bender pulled the door closed, seemingly little caring that Fry only barely managed to get his foot out of the way in time.

A few months later

‘~ I kissed a guy and I liked it…~’ Fry had to admit it was a bop. More so than a lot of the other songs he’d found while trying to catch up on some of the music he’d missed in the last thousand years. Who would’ve thought so much bad music would be what persisted throughout the years? Yeah sure it was one of those opinion things but his taste in music was great and no one could convince him otherwise.

As the second chorus hit, he found himself half singing along with it as he resumed scrolling through the song list on the tablet, searching for more titles that caught his eye. … What would it be like to kiss a guy? Would it be like kissing a girl? (Not that he had much experience with that even despite having had a girlfriend once upon a time. The few kisses they had shared had been meh at best.) Probably not, right? It had to be different. … He kind of wanted to find out for sure now that he’d thought of it. Maybe it would even be not terrible. Who could he kiss to try it though? …

The sound of the door opening prompted him to look up as Bender strode in. Ah, he’d be perfect because he was a guy. And they were best friends so there wouldn’t be any confusion about intentions.

“Hey Bender,” Fry said as he placed the tablet, still playing music on the coffee table and hopped up off the couch. “Would it be all right if we kissed?”

Bender froze mid-step as the door swung shut behind him. “Uh… what?”

“Well, I’m listening to this song here and it’s about a guy kissing another guy and liking it and it got me thinking what that would be like. It has to be different from kissing a girl, right? But like how different? So I’m curious and I want to find out and you’re a guy so… yeah. It’s fine if you’d rather not, I know it’s a weird request. I could always ask someone else, I’m sure it wouldn’t be…”

“Yes!” Bender interrupted with a surprising amount of intensity as he lowered his foot. He let out a nervous chuckle as his eyes darted away. “I mean if it’s just one kiss, it should be fine. Nothing wrong with experimenting a little and satisfying some curiosity, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah! This is the year 3000, things like that aren’t a big deal anymore.” It was so freeing and wonderful. So without further ado, Fry pranced over to stand in front of Bender. Hmmm… he was a robot though so kissing him wouldn’t be like kissing any human – or humanoid alien – guy or not. But he was still a guy so the basic idea was still there so…

Fry put his hands on Bender’s shoulders as he leaned in for a kiss. Bender’s mouth was cold and unsurprisingly tasted of booze, in a good way though. A slight tingly sensation hit Fry’s lips as Bender’s hands reached up to light touch his sides. Odd but not necessarily unpleasant, he could probably easily get used to it.

They lingered like that for several long seconds before Fry pulled back, letting out a shaky sigh. “Uh… that was interesting, huh?” he said, tugging at his shirt collar a bit because it was suddenly a bit hotter in here for some reason. They were still standing a bit closer than they normally did too. How had he never noticed that Bender was just a tad shorter than him? … The perfect height for a forehead kiss if Fry were inclined to do so.

“Eh, I’ve had better.” Bender avoided eye contact as he stepped back. Which seemed to release the sudden tension in the air as if an important moment had just passed by them.

Fry looked away too, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah sorry, I’m not a great kisser. I don’t really have much experience.”

“So, curiosity satisfied?”

“Uh… yeah. Thanks.” It had been nice actually if a bit weird. … That meant he was into guys though, wasn’t it? …. Oh well, that kind of thing was perfectly fine now so yeah, he was into guys and not ashamed of it.

“Good, now… let’s move on and pretend this never happened, okay? We don’t want anyone thinking we’re dating when we’re not.”

“Um… yeah.” Fry nodded, holding his smile even though for some reason Bender’s words made him a bit uncomfortable. If it wasn’t a big deal, why did they have to pretend it had never happened? “Let’s watch some TV, huh? All My Circuits should be starting soon.”

~~~

Despite how it was supposed to have just been an experiment and not a big deal, Fry thought about that kiss a lot. He wanted to do it again and do it better so that maybe Bender would like it too. How did he even go about that though?

That wasn’t all he thought about. Now that he was comfortable and willing to accept that he liked guys like that he allowed his mind to go to other places to. Like dating and holding hands and cuddling and sometimes even sex. What would all the be like with another guy? A robot? Specifically Bender? He wanted to know. He lay in bed at night thinking about it more nights than not. Often it turned into barely remembered dreams that left him more unsatisfied than anything.

He’d never find out though, would he? Because Bender didn’t like humans like that. He’d said so himself directly and had implied it in other instances too, always insisting he hated humans and all that – even if he didn’t really act like it most of the time. So… Fry didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell with him.

Damn! He was finally in a place where he was comfortable with his sexuality and in a time when he wouldn’t be persecuted for it and the first man he fell for was unattainable. That was just his luck, huh? … But then again, this was the year 3000 and almost anything was possible with today’s technology, right? …

Waking up early and getting out of bed was absolutely terrible, even worse was going into work that early. But he had no choice if he wanted some time to talk to Professor Farnsworth without Bender around or hopefully anyone else.

As he knew from the handful of weeks he’d lived at the Planet Express building, Farnsworth should be one of the first people here. He typically went straight to his office … and lo and behold, that’s where Fry found him this morning; asleep in his office chair.

Fry walked over to prod his shoulder. “Hey Professor?”

The only response was a loud snore. How he slept so soundly faceup in his desk chair like that, Fry would never understand. But it was important so Fry poked him again, harder this time.

“Wake up, I got something important to ask you about.”

With a grunt, Farnsworth jerked awake. “Huh? What?” He looked blearily around for a few seconds before his gaze settled on Fry. “Oh, you’re here early… I think.”

“Yep because I got something important to ask. You see I’m uh…” Fry gulped, suddenly regretting this a little bit but he’d already come this far so putting his hands behind his back, he soldiered on. “I think I’m gay, well uh… I don’t just think, I know… I think. I’m not entirely sure yet but do I do know I like guys and I’ve never really got girls, you know? Like I thought I was supposed to so I would flirt with them and stuff but it never really felt good even when one finally agreed to date me, you know what I mean?”

“That’s what’s so important you came to work early to tell me about? Well earlier than normal. This is the year 3000, no one cares if you’re gay Fry. The fact that that was ever viewed as a reason to hate people is astounding when there’s so many more actual reasons, such as their taste in music or sports teams.”

“Uh… that’s only part of what I came here to tell you. What I need to ask you is um… well in discovering that I like guys I also discovered that I got a thing for Bender. A kind of big thing. I’ve never felt this way before so I don’t really know what it is for sure but I really want to kiss him and hold his hand and stuff. I know that probably sounds weird because he’s Bender and…”

“Just get to the point,” Farnsworth interrupted.

“Oh uh… sorry. I don’t think he likes humans, not like that anyway. So I was thinking would it be possible to upload my mind into a robot body so that I might have a real chance with him?” Fry had seen such things in movies and stuff a few times, surely that was possible with today’s technology, right?

“Hmmm…” Farnsworth lifted a hand to tap a finger on his chin. “I suppose we could give it a try. You’d be more useful as a robot anyway.” … Wow he’d agreed to that without any need for convincing.

“Awesome, let’s go.”

With a grunt and crack of his old bones, Farnsworth pushed himself off the chair and led the way out of his office. He seemed to know where he was going so Fry followed. In the hallway, they ran into Leela.

“Oh hey Fry,” she said, “You’re here on time for once, good job.”

“Thanks! The Professor’s about to turn me into a robot, you want to watch?”

“Uh… what?”

“I’m turning him into a robot,” Farnsworth replied. “Now come along Fry, we need determine what kind of robot will be most useful to us. I’m thinking one with built in weaponry.”

Leela fell into step with Fry as Farnsworth resumed leading the way presumably to the lab. “Why exactly do you want to be a robot?” she asked in her suspicious voice.

“Because um… well uh…” Fry wasn’t ashamed to admit it or anything but he wasn’t ready for her to know especially when she was looking at him with that looks of hers she always had on her face whenever she caught him doing something stupid.

“He’s in love with Bender or some such bull crap,” Farnsworth said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Is that true Fry?”

“Uh… I think so, yes. I don’t really know what love feels like but… regardless he won’t be interested in me as long as I’m human so… I’m becoming a robot. Don’t tell him though please. I want to be the one who tells him.” … What if even becoming a robot didn’t work though? What would Fry do then? He didn’t have time to think on that much as they reached the professor’s lab.

“All right Fry,” Farnsworth said. “You go sit on the table while I work on getting you a good robot body and then when Doctor Zoidberg gets here we’ll call him in to help remove your brain from your skull.”

Oh! Fry didn’t like the sound of that. Before he could voice a protest though, Leela did. “Uh no, that’s not happening. Come on Fry.” She grabbed Fry by the arm and dragged him right back into the hallway. She then closed the door, cutting off Farnsworth’s groan of disappointment.

“But Leela,” Fry tried only to be interrupted as she kept pulling him away.

“Have you even tried talking to Bender and telling him how you feel yet?”

“Well, no but…”

“That’s what I thought. Try that first before going and doing something dumb like having the Professor turn you into a robot. Seriously what were you thinking? It’s the Professor, there’s no way that could ever turn out well. Now come on, we’re going back to the main room and when Bender shows up, you’re going to tell him how you feel, okay?”

Before Fry could even try to answer…

“What’s this about Fry telling Bender how he feels?” Hermes asked as they entered the main room.

“He’s in love,” Leela replied as if it weren’t a big deal.

“Really?” Oh great, Amy was here now too. “I guess that makes sense though, huh? Since they’re roommates and all, the romance practically writes itself. Congrats on realizing it sooner rather than later though Fry.”

With a groan and free Leela’s grasp at last, Fry slunk over to sit at the round table so he could hide his burning face in his arms. He was never going to live this down. Basically everyone knew now and it was only a matter of time before that ‘basically’ was no more. His only solace was the fact that Bender wouldn’t be arriving at work for at least another hour or two so he had some time to figure out what he might say… not much though, nowhere near enough.

The next couple hours were awful. Hermes lectured him about the risks and dangers of workplace romance and what was and was not allowed as if proper romance were a foregone conclusion and not the vain hope it actually was. Amy quizzed him about what he even saw in Bender because Bender was an ‘egotistical kleptomaniac’, whatever that meant. Zoidberg came in and was immediately told and expressed joy that his friends were ‘in love’ and that it was beautiful, again as if it wasn’t just Fry with these feelings which was far more likely to be the case, right? Leela was the only one who left him alone about it despite the fact that she was the one that let the cat out of the bag to everyone else.

The awfulness of all that came to a point when Bender finally arrived. Everyone in the room froze as they looked up at him. Amy let out an excited giggle that made Fry kind of want to die.

“Uh… hey guys,” Bender said as he strode into room. “Why’s everyone looking at me?”

“No reason,” Leela as she stood up. “Fry’s got something important to tell you though. Come on guys, let’s give them some privacy.” She led the way out of the room, quickly followed by everyone else, leaving Fry and Bender alone together within a matter of seconds.

Bender looked after them as they closed the door for a few seconds before turning to look at Fry. “All right, that’s weird. What’s this you want tell me?” he said as he strode over to sit at the table next to Fry. He bent legs up to rest his feet on the table as he pulled out a bottle of booze.

Unable to maintain eye contact, Fry looked away, focusing his gaze on the table instead. He rubbed his finger idly over the little scratch on it that he somehow hadn’t noticed before. What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t ready to tell Bender… more like wasn’t ready to be rejected. How badly was this going to hurt their friendship?

He couldn’t brush it off as nothing, could he? … No, now that Bender knew there was something, he’d probably take offense to any attempt to keep it from him. He’d likely assume the worst too – whatever that might be in his mind – and thus be quite angry. So Fry either had to come up with a convincing important thing to tell him or the truth. The former would be difficult but…

“Out with it meatbag, what is it?”

“Uh… um… it’s uh…” Fry had never been good with words.

“Just spit it out. Am I fired? You don’t want to be my friend anymore? You moving out? … That’s what it is, isn’t it? You hooked up with Amy or Leela and you’re going to move in with them now, huh?”

“What?” Fry jerked his gaze back up to meet Bender’s angry glare. “No, no, no, that’s not it at all.”

Bender didn’t seem much placated. “Then what is it?”

Fry had never been very good at lying or coming up with convincing tales so… with a deep breath he stood up. “You um… remember a couple weeks ago when we kissed and it was supposed to be an experiment to see what it was like to kiss a guy and nothing more?”

Bender’s expression softened a little, though the suspicious anger didn’t leave completely yet. “Yes.”

“Well uh… I’d like to do it again sometime if that’s okay with you. Maybe uh… multiple times.”

“Uh…”

“What I’m saying,” Fry quickly interrupted before he could be shot down before even really saying what he meant, “is that I um… really like you and stuff. So uh… do you maybe want go on a date sometime and like… see what happens?” Fry forced himself to meet Bender’s gaze again. He seemed more surprised than angry now. Was it pleasant surprise though or the opposite? It was hard to tell.

Before replying, Bender took a long drink from the bottle still in his hand, finishing it off and slamming it onto the table as he stood up too. “Is this some fetish thing? You want to fuck a robot and I’m the only one you know so you’re getting all sweet on me to try to get in bed with me?” Right back to being angry, suspicious, and wanting to believe the worst. Why was he like that?

“No, Bender, that’s not it. I like you for you.” Fry pointed at him to emphasize his point. If he were in a less delicate situation he might’ve pointed out how Bender kind of resembled a walking trashcan and therefore wasn’t exactly sexy enough to be worth going to so much trouble for just the purpose of sex. “You’re great and you’re my best friend. And I love spending time with you whether we’re off on a space adventure or just lazing around the apartment watching TV together. So, I’d like to be more than just friends if that’s what you want too. If not, that’s… okay too, I’d understand.” And hopefully this confession wouldn’t hurt that any.

“Oh, hmmm… what else do you like about me?” Well, he was chill now and even grinning, that was good.

“You’re always fun to talk to and you’ve got great ideas for ways to pass the time when we’re bored. And even though you steal my wallet all the time, you always give it back eventually. And you’re a robot and that’s still super cool even if I’m used to robots by now because you were the first one I met and I wasn’t lying when I said I’d always wanted a robot for a best friend. So really by being my pal, you’re fulfilling a lifelong dream of mine. I’ve never thought about dating one before now though, it just never occurred to me until after that uh… kiss experiment we did.”

“Go on,” Bender said in the pause that followed, leaning in eagerly.

Fry sighed. “You’re also very confident, especially in yourself.” Too the point of annoyance at times but even during those instances Fry still wished he could have even a fraction of that level of confidence. “And you’re also super strong, you can bend metal like it’s made of paper which is super cool. And sometimes you use that strength to open jars for me and sometimes you don’t even make fun of me for not being able to open it myself. Also, even despite our occasional disagreements, we always make up eventually and then we’re friends again like nothing ever happened and… that’s really nice.” Fry had never had a friend that would do that for him before, normally one disagreement was all it took for someone to decide they didn’t want to hang out with him ever again. “So… will you go out with me?” Forcing a grin, Fry held out a hand in hopes of Bender taking it.

Bender stared at him in silence for a few horrible seconds that seemed to drag into eternity before finally speaking. “Well, if you’re going to butter me up that much, I suppose we can go on one date and see what happens.” Looking away awkwardly, he even put his hand into Fry’s.

With a rush of giddy relief and grinning so wide his cheeks hurt, Fry use that grip to pull him closer so that their bodies were almost touching, earning a small but very satisfying surprised gasp from him. “Can I kiss you again? For real this time, not just as an experiment?” One was always supposed to ask before doing such a thing, right?

“I just agreed to go on a date with you meatbag, what do you think?”

Fry didn’t answer or make a further move because he didn’t know what to think. He’d never done this before, not with someone he actually wanted to be with.

Bender sighed. “Yes moron, you can kiss me again.”

Fry did so before any self-doubt could get in the way. Bender’s mouth plate was still cool, the taste of beer even stronger than last time. The slight tingling buzz was still there too, just as odd but nice.

“Better than last time?” Fry said, letting out a heavy breath as the pulled apart a few seconds later. He was a bit lightheaded and wanted to sit down but that would mean letting go of Bender’s hand and moving away from him.

“A little.”

Fry took a breath, intending to suggest maybe he needed some more practice but he didn’t get a single syllable out before a small squeak to their right drew his attention. He glanced over just in time to see the door close, silently as whoever was on the other side did so carefully.

Bender had clearly noticed too; he let go of Fry hand and left him to sneak over fling the door all the way open. Perhaps not so surprisingly Leela, Amy, Hermes, Zoidberg and even Professor Farnsworth were gathered in close on the other side. The looks of guilt on their faces made it quite clear what they were doing there.

“Uh, hey Bender,” Leela said with a slight grimace. “What you up to? We were just uh… passing by.”

“And we’re quickly moving on,” Hermes added before turning to flee. The others wasted no time in following suit, Amy dragging away Zoidberg and Leela dragging away Farnsworth.

Bender sighed as he turned back to Fry. If he were as embarrassed as Fry, he was doing a good job of not showing it – though as a robot he couldn’t blush so maybe that had something to do with it. “They’re a bunch of disgusting voyeurs, ,” he said with a scoff as he walked over back over to Fry. “Let’s go to the break room and watch some TV. They should be ashamed enough over being caught spying to not yell at us to go back to work for at least an hour or two.” He put an arm around Fry’s waist to guide him out of the room. Fry was more than happy to go along with it. And maybe, just maybe, they could practice kissing during the ad breaks.

#my writing #futurama #Frender #Mentions of homophobia #internalized homophobia #Fry is gay AU #Bender is pan #kissing #Leela is mom-friend

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