#i have seen the way that man devours sandwiches and you just KNOW he eats pussy like a champ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweettodo · 3 years

Text

deceive.

armin arlert x female reader.

to deceive [de-ceive] - “it is often done for personal gain or advantage”

includes : mind break, loss of virginity, manipulation, dubcon, some dacryphilia.

a / n, happy sunday, thank for for 1,000 followers !

wc : 2.5k

Armin and Eren, an infamous friendship, tied at the hip. They're a devilish pair, and they do an unduly job at hiding it too.

Women who have slipped under their spell- their friends around them left thinking 'what happened to her?' after having been sucked in, tossed around, and spit out, left behind to pick up the mutilated fragments of her heart. She'll never be the same.

And even worse, the flocks of daughters who fall head over heels for the dangerous blonde, and the evil brunette- who never seem to slip away before they wound the wretched girls that found themselves wrapped around their fingers. But Eren and Armin will never feel any guilt for their behavior, especially when they can't get enough of the delicious taste of a woman's tears.

Armin knew how to captivate you- instantly Eren too, but how were you expected to know that they were playing you right into their palms? A sweet little compliment about your short summer dress one day after your lecture left you reciting the brief conversation for the rest of the day and the following night. Eren stood next to him, hands in his pockets with a complacent grin on his face, making you shrink, feeling minuscule and bewildered with the two in front of you. That’s when it all started.

Not to mention, that's how they preferred their toys, modest, quiet, and easy to break. Just like you. And as if it were a package deal, you're a tight little virgin, this was laughable to the two- this was going to be ever so simple. You were a priceless doll.

Both men had an unholy God complex, placed on a pedestal, and there was absolutely no way they were coming down.

You knew only a little about the two, but they were able to get under your skin with ease, you were now their little plaything, always sandwiched between the two, being teased as they tried to loosen you up, flicking up your skirt or pinching your sides, "y'know us, princess, no need to act so shy n’ scared." Eren coos, petting your head, you scowl, looking at Armin, who's beside his friend, his hand on your waist.

“Guyss, ” you dragged, “stop messing with me!”

Armin took a particular liking towards you, but he knew it wouldn't be as easy to knock your walls down, unlike some others.

You thought about the blue-eyed sweetheart throughout the day since you had met him, mindlessly writing scribbles on the notepad in front of you; your professor rambling as all you thought about was how Armin made you feel beautiful, how cute he thought you were. In just a few minutes of meeting him, he had you fixed, and he knew that soon, you'd be demanding more, and soon, you would need him to praise you again and again.

"She's pretty cute, you like her?" The first time they had seen you, they knew they had to have you.

Armin had hummed in agreement, abandoning his bag on the bed, "yeah," sitting at his desk, "seems awfully quiet though, gotta' break her out of her shell."

He deemed you to be just like him, gentle and pure, and all Armin needed to do was show you how much potential you had. Look at you- you're too shut out, you're too sheltered, girls like you should be compelled to have Armin come and teach you the right way to do things. He knew, that deep down, you yearned to be taught, and he is so good at taking care of delicate girls like you.

You were Armin's, God- he was going to take such good care of you. He was going to corrupt you and make it so that it would be incapable of letting a day go by without the thought of him leaving his mark on you. You'd be thinking about him every second of the day.

Eren and Armin planned it out accordingly, making sure it was just going to be Armin and you in his dorm, so by the time you got there one late afternoon, it was just going to be you two.

You sat so pretty on the edge of his bed, a textbook in your lap as you studied, you and your tiny little shorts- it pissed him off. Walking around campus, walking past him, enticing every man that laid eyes on you, and you couldn't even throw him a bone? Stingy.

He couldn't settle for the fact that you'd never be the one to make the first move, but no- don't take it personally, it was okay, he liked being in control anyways.

Caught by surprise, watching the sweet little blonde remove the textbook off your lap suddenly and get in your face, wrapping his big, soft, and veiny hand around your throat, ridiculing you for being a loser virgin.

“You think guys are gonna want an inexperienced girl like you?” first he wants to break you down. Make you feel like you're alone, and in the wrong for keeping your innocence.

“Have you even had your first kiss?” he taunts, “it’s okay, that's why you're here.” Stroking the side of your face, you're gasping for air as he squeezes your juggler enough to make your eyeballs throb. Now, he wants you to know that the only man that'll touch you is going to be him. Because no one else wants to.

You're trembling, hurt by his sharp insults, he was right, no one was going to touch you; you're tragic, it's pitiful- really, “you want me to help you?” he releases his grip around your now, tender neck, “you want me to teach you?”

You didn't respond, he becomes irritated, “no one likes a prude, you're lucky I'm even helping you.” your self-esteem shatters, he was right. He was right. He was right.

“I'm sorry, Armin.”

Good, you're so good, even when he's tormenting you like you're nothing more than scum, no other girl would apologize after being called a prude, this means it's working. His cock was begging to be set free from his pants, he needed to rip you open. Now.

“Have you ever seen a cock? Touched one?” he seethes, your face scrunching in distaste, looking down at your lap in humiliation. He makes you look at him, “come on, answer.”

You shake your head, “no, I haven't.” He chuckles, what would your first reaction be? To seeing his cock, would it be shocked, excitement?

“You need me, right?”

“I do, I do! Armin!” he smiles, look at you- so willing to be taught by the one and only.

He knows you have no clue what to do, so he makes sure you're going to be completely prepared for him, “lie on your back,” he instructs, you follow direction, he steps in between your legs, taking off his shirt in the process, “open those legs, okay?”

You hold open your legs per his demand, he gets on his knees, elbows on the bed, “you're going to get nice as wet for me before I fuck you, does that sound good?” he wants to give you a step by step, but he's not that selfless, he just really wants to release a hot load in your cunt and send you on your way. He was conflicted.

Nodding, Armin is hooking his index and middle fingers around the waistband of your cheeky panties and pulling them down slowly, your pretty little pussy glistening in his face, stuffing the fabric in his back pocket for keeps.

You're embarrassed, covering your face in shame as he hums at the sight of your pussy, “don't be shy, let me see your face.”

Uncovering your face, he smiles, praising you for listening to him, “good, now watch me eat that pretty pussy of yours.” The vulgar language sliding off his tongue throws you into a loop, making you dizzy as he wastes no time to begin to devour you. Scissoring your folds with his two fingers, spreading you open and kitten-licking stripes up to your sensitive clit, flicking the muscle against your swollen folds and futtering cunt.

Leg quivering, fingers grilling his scalp, he slides his middle finger into your cunt, hooking upwards as he already knows right where all the sweet spots are, your moans music to his ears, “didn't know the shy girl could be so noisy,” he claims, occasionally slipping his finger out of your hole and rubbing in the slick that he catches seeping from your cunt.

Quite frankly, he didn't even care about letting you reach your orgasm. He just needed to play up the front, it’s not every day that there's a girl like you at a college... So he needed to savor the taste, and the feeling of a tight cunt like yours squeezing his finger.

You're crying, he loves it, he loves your crimson cheeks, the tears spilling from your waterline. Your back raising from the bed, he's there to hold it down, keeping you still, he mustn’t let a drop of your slick escape from his mouth.

“‘Bet you wish that you did this earlier,” a pop coming from his mouth as he sucks each finger clean of your slick, you're trying to catch your breath. Stunned, dizzy.

He leans down, wet fingers squeezing and rolling your perk nipple, kissing your lips, your juices tainting your tastebuds. The kiss only lasts a moment or two, before he's back to ridiculing you, “is that what you say when someone eats you out?” you groan, shutting your eyes.

“Thank you, A-Armin.”

His ears jump, his ego could not have been fulfilled enough, his body tingling and weak from your choice of words, he didn't necessarily mean to thank him- but Jesus, he was not complaining, “good, you're such a good girl, guess what I'm going to do next?” He sputters, frantically unbuttoning his jeans, his cock hurt so bad, it was throbbing, begging to be released from his tight jeans.

“Fuck me?” you whisper? Mortified to even say the words, he needed you to say it, he needed you to loosen up, for him.

“Yes- yes, good,” Armin’s so high off lust, he doesn't care about you, he doesn't care about how bad it's going to hurt, and he doesn't care about how you'll want to scream and cry, he just needs to see those crystal-like tears and your pussy leaking with his cum.

You're trembling, watching him pull down his pants and his cock spring out, he needs to make sure you appreciate how big he is. Grabbing you by the hair and making you look at his cock close up as you squirm uncomfortably, body folding as he holds you still, “what's this, tell me.” He sneers, his tip barely touching the tip of your nose.

“I-it’s, your cock, it's your cock, Armin.”

“Guess where it's going?” he was losing control, his act of the nice guy slipping from his fingers- but it was okay, you didn't know the difference, you were clueless.

“In me.” You whined, he releases his grip on your head, falling backward, he's grabbing you from under your thighs and yanking you towards the edge of the bed, gasping, “b-be gentle! Please, Armin!”

“You want me to be gentle? After you went around teasing me for so long?”

“Do you think that’s fair to me? I mean- you’ve teased so many guys- fucking cock tease.” He spits, you swallow, your throat dry.

“B-but,”

Lining his tip up with your entrance, his hand squeezing the soft flesh of your tit, he slides in without warning, “big girls take cock and don't complain, think you can do that?”

Your head flies back, head spinning as he slides his cock into you, the pain of Armin tearing you in half, you try to listen to his harsh demands, “h-hurts, it hurts Armin.”

One ear and out the other, he focuses on his cock disappearing in your deep pussy, walls clenching, desperately trying to kick his thick cock out, your folds decorating the base of his cock, clenching around him so hard it was nearly impossible for him to pull back and fuck back into you, “shh, I'll loosen you up- fuck- this cunt is so tight, can't fit it all.”

Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he’s finally able to get past the first thrust, the sweat already dripping from his chest as he struggles to move his cock, you're crying, begging him to be gentle, “it hurts, it hurts,” he mocks, “what did I say?”

While his cock thrusts back into you, stripping you of all humanity, forcing you to repeat what he told you before, “say it, or else I don't help you.”

“Big girls take cock- don’t complain, I'm a big girl Armin, ‘swear!” you plead, “‘need you to teach me, please.” He’s gripping your legs, nails breaking the skin, you're wailing as his cock knocks back and forth into you; your tongue lolling out, saliva spilling as all of your holes leak.

He occasionally wipes your tears with his thumb, then making you suck his thumb to taste the salty liquid of his sweat and your tears, he grunts, moans slipping past his lips, “that's why you're here, with me.” What a blatant lie, he wasn’t going to teach you anything.

Your pussy is so good, it makes him drunk, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Your ribbed walls sucking him so well, your pussy is so noisy, he tries so hard to focus, but he can't. He slams into you, his strong hips making your tits bounce and your hair become matted from underneath your head. Legs unable to stay upright as he fucks them numb, the pain since subsided from the first thrust, besides the pain of his tip drilling into the entrance of your cervix.

God- he's so close, so close so close, he can feel it, he knows you're close too, he's feeling generous, so he’s going to let you cum, going to let you bathe his thick cock with your cream, “do you think big girls get to cum? Y’think you deserve it?” he prods, breath fanning your face and tits, making your nipples grow hard again.

“Can I? Can I cum please?” you beg, looking at him with those red, glossy, and precious eyes of yours.

“Of course you can- for being so good, y’learn a lot? Princess?” he interrogates, being as it is, hard enough to sputter out words, you're trying to lick up the drool off your swollen lips.

You nod, screwing your eyes shut, sure, you had orgasms before, but not by a man, and definitely not by a man like Armin, “y-yes, G-God, s’big, love it!”

Relentlessly, he angles his body downwards, skin slapping rapidly as he chases his orgasm, his hair falling in front of his sweaty face, his once, cerulean eyes now a dark and lustful blue, staring daggers into you. His pubic hair beating your tender clit, sending you into orbit.

Crying out his name, body convulsing as he rips an orgasm out of your body, feeling his cock easily slide in and out of you; you had never felt so full, so stuffed.

His hips pounding against yours, you shook as he fucked you through your orgasm, “look at all this cum- fuck- so messy, princess.”

Too fucked out to speak, incoherent words filling the room as his hips rutted mercilessly, thrusts becoming rugged and messy, moaning, his nails digging deeper into your legs as he releases his load into you. Cock twitching as you tried pathetically to fill your lungs with much-needed oxygen, he fucked every ounce of air out of you.

A few minutes had passed, Armin on his back next to you as he tries to catch his breath as well, he had never fucked pussy so good, he couldn't even think straight.

Your pussy sopping, leaking cum as the blonde is slipping his, now, soft cock in his boxers, “need help?” he offers, watching you sit up, replying with a quiet ‘yes please’ he hums, smug look enveloping his face.

“Big girls are supposed to know how to put their pants on.”

Practically limping home, and without your underwear, you felt soaked, you looked a mess, but luckily had escaped any type of questioning from your peers.

Unlocking the door to your dorm room, you slip in and finally relax, dropping on your bed and letting your legs rest, ready to fall asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

But before you did that, figuring to remind him to bring you your panties tomorrow, you reached for your phone, unlocking it and heading to your messages, tapping on ‘Armin’, sending him a text.

‘Can I have my underwear back? Tomorrow.’

You hadn't noticed the message never delivered, just dropping your phone on the bed and falling asleep.

Thing was, the message was never delivered, and both Eren and Armin never talked to you again, never even as little as looking in your direction.

#attack on titan #lemon #smut #aot #attack on titan smut #armin x reader #armin arlet smut #armin arlert #attack on titan armin #armin aot #armin x you #armin x y/n

171 notes · View notes

retrocontinuity · 3 years

Text

Eat, for this is Her Body: Chainsaw Man and the Doxology of Cannibalism

"One day," Anthony Oliveira writes in "The Year in Apocalypses," [Jesus'] disciples approached their master while he was silent in prayer and made a request: 'Lord, teach us how to pray.'" From here, Jesus teaches them the Lord's Prayer, what the Catholic Church once called "the summary of the whole gospel":

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Denji is no one's disciple. When we first meet him, he is closer to how Oliveira describes Jesus himself, "homeless, gleaning for food in the field like a sparrow and relying on the kindness of strangers to put him up, . . . a man cheerfully resigned to powerlessness." And so, Denji doesn't need to be taught how to pray. He has always known. Every bone in his body at the opening of Chainsaw Man sings out the Lord's Prayer: "forgive me my debts", "deliver me from evil." And, of course, Denji is intimately familiar with the prayer's most pitiable, most powerful line. It's this line that he cries out to Makima when he rests, Pieta-like, in her arms at the end of the first chapter. It can only be this line, one that Denji might have written himself:

Give me, from this day forward, and for all the rest of my days, daily bread.

Bread runs throughout CSM like a mocking scent that you only fully identify in the last two chapters. It should have been a sign to all of us when the first meal Makima buys for Denji is not bread (but rather a hot dog and udon noodles). It isn't until Denji meets and enters Aki's home that he is seen making a hideously overladen slice of toast for himself, luxuriating in having all the toppings he was denied. The morning after she forces Denji to open the door to Power's death, Makima makes the very breakfast she once promised to serve Denji: eggs, coffee, salad, and sliced bread. But this is a meal that Denji never eats—maybe the only meal in the entire series that he, a survivor of the meanest starvation and poverty, ignores. There is only one other time we see this meal in CSM, and it is subtle, almost off camera, though no less meaningful: in Chapter 53, after Reze's death, as Denji sits down to breakfast once more with Power and Aki.

To revisit CSM's public safety arc is to see all the ways the plot connects itself to food and the act of eating, both appetizing and revolting, both profound and profane. Denji, eating gyoza at a bar for the first time. Denji being forced to swallow barf as he is kissed for the first time. The Fox Devil, who eats indiscriminately and on command, who refuses to return to Aki after being fed something disgusting. A fox that is hunted and transformed into stew. Denji eating sandwiches at Reze's cafe. Aki and Angel eating noodles. A woman sitting down to eat a hamburger for the first time, before she commits mass murder. She is worried she has lost her taste buds, yet she exclaims, "So delicious!" We know, later, that this woman is a liar, that no part of her is what she presents herself to be. Should we take this moment at its face value then? Was Santa Claus simply lucky enough to have preserved her sense of taste? Or was it her one last act of humanity, to recognize that it is not enough just to eat, that man does not live on bread alone, that there must be at least food that is also delicious, that inspires people to get up and dance—even if it means she has to lie about what she can experience?

Food is necessary for survival, and CSM is a story about survival. But CSM is also a story about glimpsing the after. After you know you can keep living, what next? After you are no longer starving, after you have been forced to kill a friend, after you have touched your first boob, after you have been betrayed, what next? After you are tired of eating toast with jam for breakfast, what do you eat next?

The version of the Lord's Prayer we tend to recite asks for "our daily bread." But this, most modern scholars believe, is a mistranslation. The Greek adjective as it appears in the Gospel of Matthew and Luke is "epiousios," which doesn't mean "daily" at all, but rather something too complicated etymologically for me to even begin to parse. The point is that what we ask for in the Lord's Prayer is not just bread for today, but bread for tomorrow. Both the physical bread and the spiritual bread. Bread on this kingdom of earth, and bread that is the kingdom of heaven. Bread to feed our bodies, and bread to feed our souls. The realm of the divine is full of these moments, isn't it? Of two things existing at once, in one.

Denji starts the series asking for daily bread, and ends the public safety arc with Nayuta, Makima's reincarnation, asking him for daily bread. Trash heap Denji, living with his not!dog Pochita, really was just asking for daily bread. A slice to eat for breakfast, maybe even with butter and jam. But he too learns that bread, physical bread, is not enough. Merely to subsist, to eat good food, is an empty life. And what he must give Nayuta is not just bread, as was given to him. Otherwise, he will be trapped in a cycle of creating more Makimas. Instead, he must give her a relationship, a family, a world that Makima was unable to create. He must give her, in Pochita's words, lots of hugs. He must give her, in the words of the Lord's Prayer, epiousios.

To be clear, I am not arguing that CSM is meant to be read through a Catholic lens, and I doubt Fujimoto had all of this in mind when he wrote it (though he must have thought something, given that he drew a very large print of Gustave Dore's "Satan descends upon Earth" in Makima's entranceway!). But there is something primal (primordial?) about the Lord's Prayer. If every reader can understand the horror that the Darkness Devil represents, so too we can understand the intimacy and comfort of the Lord's Prayer. It is, as Oliveira writes, "a simple peasant's mantra for detoxing anxiety." Jesus opens by addressing God as father—not king, not an all-mighty spiritual being, but rather "abba, which is rather closer to 'dad,' and not in the intercultural Greek of his adulthood, but the Aramaic of home and childhood." The Lord's Prayer asks for what we always want, the only thing any of us have ever wanted since leaving the womb as infants: for no bad things to happen, for there to be enough to eat.

Even if what we have to eat is another person.

At the center of the Christian liturgy is the Last Supper, and at the center of the Last Supper is a meal that functions as ritual, abomination, accusation, transubstantiation, paranoia, and an early example of cracking open a cold one with the bros. Here, Jesus shares bread and wine with his disciples and then, as if trying to invent r/creepypasta years before its time, informs them they are actually eating his flesh and blood. This image is so powerful and heretical that the Romans accused early Christians of being cannibals. And why shouldn't they? It's there in the text. "Take, eat. This is my body. This is my blood." Stripped of the grandeur of tradition and ritual, this is downright vampiric. And yet it goes on to become the cornerstone of the Christian faith.

Oliveira begs us to see the Last Supper as a family meal, one shared by Jesus and his found family. "All he is really saying is, 'I hope when you eat together, you remember me.'" It's a good reading, one that moves me to tears, and is the framework through which I see the events of chapter 80. Because Makima is not the first time that Denji "consumes" a friend, and I don't just mean him sucking Power's blood or taking Pochita into himself. When Aki died, he left half his fortune to Denji, who uses it to support himself and Power. They "pigged out on good food," he tells us. This is Aki's symbolic body, through which he provides Denji his daily bread. Eat ice cream and onigiri in remembrance of me.

But it is not how I see the events of chapter 96. Denji does not eat Makima in the context of a feast. He does not partake of her in a communal meal, as Jesus did, among his found family. He eats every bite of Makima alone. Jesus said before his death, "this is my blood, which is shed for many." Yet Denji says to Makima, I alone will absolve you alone of your sins. I alone will bear you alone.

Denji's Last Supper is a lonely remembrance. He is hoping that no one but him will remember her. He is hoping to wholly consume her, because he loves her. "We love as cannibals," French philosopher and activist Simone Weil wrote. "Beloved beings . . . provide us with comfort, energy, a simulant. They have the same effect on us as a good meal. . . . We love them, then, as food." In fact, Weil believed we cannot love any other way. As humans, we are forever doomed to want to eat the ones we love. In order to escape, we must both be devoured by God and then become food for our fellow human beings. As Alec Irwin writes of Weil's philosophy, "the devouring violence of God must be positively harnessed in order to dismantle the machinery of human cruelty."

If Weil is right and being devoured is transformation, a crucial part of salvation, then in eating Makima, Denji redeems her. He turns her into food to break the cycle of her cruelty. For Makima's power itself is consuming, cannibalistic. She "eats" humans in order to use her power, which remains mysterious like God moving across the face of the earth, leaving only broken corpses as a sign of its presence. So it must be Denji, not Chainsaw Man, who does the consuming. If Pochita had consumed her, as she had always prayed for, then it would simply be another act of violence being enacted. Instead, Denji gives her salvation by turning her into human food—his food.

To Denji, Aki was human, his family, his brother, his friend. It is Makima he loves as a God and a woman. To him, she is Satan and God, his betrayer and his creator, his salvation and his friends' damnation. So he must take her, consume her, digest her, excrete her, reduce her to nothing, as she once consumed and excreted and reduced him. "I ate her to become one with her." He ate her to become her. There is no truer form of his love than for Denji to take Makima into himself. I use those words purposefully, because this is the rejection of classic cishet PIV penetration, that old hoary chestnut of men inside women. As Don Delillo famously outlines in White Noise, we talk about sex as if women are containers, rooms, elevator lobbies: "He entered me," "I want him inside me," "I took him into myself." Denji and Makima never have physical sex, but this is a consummation, a reversal of roles. We are given the only sex that Shounen Jump will allow us, with Denji taking Makima into himself. She enters him. She is inside him. He is—physically, emotionally, willingly—penetrated by her flesh. She is released inside of him, becoming part of him.

Because the divine is full of moments like this, isn't it? Of two things existing at once, in one. That is the kingdom and the power and the glory. For Makima now lives in that country inhabited by God, where loving and eating are one and the same. For that country is none other than Denji's body.

In conclusion:

Substitute Makima for "God", and the preceding statements are still rigorously accurate.

Further Reading:

Anthony Oliveira's ongoing podcast reading the Gospel of Mark (Patreon exclusive, but I highly recommend, even/especially if you are a heathen like me)

Hannibal (NBC)

Daniel Birnbaum and Anders Olsson, An Interview with Jacques Derrida on the Limits of Digestion

David Farrell Krell, "All You Can't Eat: Derrida's Course, "Rhetorique du Cannibalisme (1990-1991)." Research in Phenomenology, vol. 36, 2006, pp. 130–180. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/24660636.

Alec Irwin, “Devoured by God: Cannibalism, Mysticism, and Ethics in Simone Weil.” CrossCurrents, vol. 51, no. 2, 2001, pp. 257–272. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/24460795.

#chainsaw man #cannibalism as love #love as cannibalism

115 notes · View notes

cleololax · 3 years

Text

Lotto | A | Chapter One

MafiaBoss! UndergroundCriminal! Yoongi x Strugglingwaitress! Y/N

Word Count - 3,210

Yoongles has his silver hair in this one 👌🏼. Smut will be in future chapters. Enjoy !

The smell of grease and bacon has your brain pounding in your skull. A normally pleasant smell can get old after an 8-hour work shift, 5 days a week. Dave rings the bell once again and you zig-zag between the tables trying to get there, refilling empty coffee mugs and fetching missing condiments on the way. Another day, another measly dollar.

By noon, your feet need a rest and you need a break. The sneakers squeeze your feet so much it feels like they might bring you down a size permanently. Marla comes from the back, chewing that cheap gum that’s bought wholesale. You hand over the paper tab and fill her in before heading into the back room. Lunch is spent eating a stale sandwich with stale lettuce and softening tomatoes that can leave an unpleasant aftertaste. Mentally, there’s a reminder set to see what they have at the food pantry this week.

Hopefully, your brother ate his lunch. It’s not like he likes it anyways and you can't blame him for it. Anxious thoughts are interrupted when Mina opens the door in all of her cheerfulness.

“Y/N, someone is asking for you.” She must see your furrow brows cause she continues.

“Says he needs to see you, it’s been a while. Is he a bad ex? Should I get rid of him?” Her worry makes you inwardly smile and you head to the sink. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be right there.” She leaves with a nod. The smile drops the minute she does. What could he possibly want now? Something uneasy stirs in your stomach. It could be the food just devoured, but there is something more pressing at the moment. The dim hallway is empty and you carefully walk out, counting the black and white tiles. With your head held high, you walk towards the booths.

The blue hair peeks out from the top of the divider. He always sits in the left corner of the room, drinking a lemonade. Always at the same time. Always on time. You walk towards the table and sit down. Taehyung offers a small nod of his head in acknowledgment. Or at least that’s what he says his name is. The first time he had waltzed in, he turned heads. A beautiful man in a crisp Armani suit isn’t exactly discreet. You came out to greet him and asked if you knew each other when he uttered one word. Your father's name. From then on you knew whatever came of this interaction, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. That bastard had ruined your family and still, it's not enough. He continues to cause destruction, long after he’s been gone.

Taehyung's tan skin and blue hair are a striking match. Chocolate eyes study the way you clench your hands together on the table, steadying shaky fingers. Pretending to hold it all together.

“Hello, Y/N.” He asked for your name the first time and you refused to give it. Years of watching sketchy people walk in and out of your apartment teach you to be wary. By the next meeting, he had it on his tongue in greeting. Perhaps a show of how much they really knew and were able to find out what they wanted.

“I have a note for you from Mr. Min. It’s appropriate to now set up a formal meeting. Tonight.” The previous suspicion is proved correct. This elusive Min wants to meet and it has your heart sinking.

“I have my brother to pick up from school.” Demons may thrive and bath in the night, but the rest of us don’t have that luxury to choose.

“Sorry, but you’ll have to make arrangements. We could send one of our men to do it... if you want.” Absolutely fucking not. You may be bad at surviving, but stupid is not in your nature.

“I’ll work it out.” It's the first time you keep eye contact with him since he arrived. While he notices the sudden determination, you notice the prominent mole on his nose. He’s handsome in a catalog type of way. they must have to be, to make the jobs easier. His tan skin glows, even in the gloomy shadow that the grey skies cast into the room.

“There will be a car parked outside your residence to pick you up.” Being in a car with these people doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. The next words are painful to say.

“It’s ok, I’ll walk.” He quirks a brow and looks sideways at the droplets sliding down the window.

“It’s going to be raining heavy tonight, though.” His deep voice fills you with dread. Especially because there is an underlying tone of sympathy in it. On cue, lightning roars from somewhere above the popcorn ceiling. Hopefully, it’s enough to distract him from the fidgeting.

He gets up to leave but not before looking down at your slumped form, trying to ignore how tired and pitiful you look. Deliver and leave. That’s the job as a messenger. All of the five times he has come here have made him wonder who you are. What put you in the sights of a man like his employer. You are young, but there is so much sadness already. Ironically, he knows how you must feel. Against his better judgment, he fixes his collar and is gone as quickly as he came. Don’t ask, don’t get involved with the debtors. It’s easier that way. All you can do is place your head on the table and zone out for a little. It’s the go-to self-care these days. Just to pretend that you don’t exist in this form in time, that you can blend in with the background and disappear. Not for the first time, you curse your luck, family ties. What have I been roped into?

When the sun sets, your legs are already carrying you down the street before Lina can change her mind. Thankfully, it isn’t pouring down yet. Closing the diner is normally your job and it is a dreaded task. Anything can happen in that timespan and it keeps the adrenaline constantly flowing. A girl alone in a diner with a cash register is a golden opportunity. It’s hard to feel like beyond the windows there aren’t eyes, waiting in dark street corners. After a couple of blocks, the old orange apartment building comes into view. At one time it must have been nicer and that's hard to picture. Mr. Shihan is playing cards with another older man on the sidewalk when you come up to the gate. Their concentration is fully on the game and he doesn’t give his normal greeting. He’s a sweet man with a terrible habit. The courtyard is empty. There are barks and kitchen sinks running, loud televisions that have no consideration. Unfortunately, there are no stairs and after long days, it’s hard not to just want to sit down on the dirty, concrete floor and fall asleep. Before you reach the 5th floor, you wait at the entrance to the hall on the 4th. It’s taken time for you to stop caring what others think of your situation, the disapproving comments, and glances from the teachers at your brother's school and almost anywhere you go. Too young, give him up to the state. Can’t take care of him, look how skinny he is, look how tired. People who look from the outside and have the luxury to judge. You are old enough to take care of him and he belongs with you. You’re the only family you two have left.

It’s only when you need help that it kills you to see Mrs. Litska. She’s an old woman who was able to babysit your brother while you are at work. With one knock, the door opens and you are met with a frown on her crinkled face. You don’t have time to say much, you just give her the envelope of this month’s pay and step inside. Your brother is asleep on the brightly foiled couch in the dim living room that smells of baked bread. The sound of Vivaldi comes through the ancient radio on the side table. His little fingers hold tightly onto the Spider-Man plushie picked out at the thrift store a while ago. It’s seen better days, but they are insuperable. Placing the stuffed item to the side, one arm loops around his shoulders to him up to place his head on your shoulder. The kid could sleep through anything.

The both of you head upstairs into your own living quarters. The lights don’t turn on when the flip is switched and you sigh as you try your best to remain close to the wall.it proves to be hard with your body ready to give out, but you ultimately make it to the room and place your brother into the squeaky bed. The candles are pulled from the drawer and each one settles into every corner of the space nicely.

Finally, you take off your partially wet clothes and put them into a pile by the tub. At least the water is warm as your body slowly leans down into it. Suddenly, the room is quiet and it’s hard to let yourself float away. It’s eerie and not comforting at all. It never is. There is no next destination besides a dreaded one, no way to work yourself towards, hanging on through the blissfully hard distractions that take up your life. They allow you to not stop, to not think about where you could be. Staying busy saves you from reaching into yourself too much.

Minutes tick by, a full half-hour before your skin is soggy and the water is cold. Still, it's better to be here than think that in another hour you could be trafficked and the little boy in the other room sleeping peacefully would have no one left. Mother dead, father gone, sister missing. It brings a chill to the room and it’s suffocating. Once you’re dressed casually, you check in on your brother who is still tucked in, his breathing mellowed out. Here’s to hoping he stays asleep and doesn’t wander through the place at three in the morning to an empty apartment. You kiss his forehead and bring his plushies within reach. They crowd the space around him, cocooning him in.

With one last safety check and blowing out the candles, you lock the door from the outside and move along the hallway down to the stairs.

Your neighborhood is wet and dark at this hour. Thankfully, you are prepared with a switchblade and pepper spray bought last week. It’s three blocks to the main streets where more people walk with umbrellas. Men in suits getting home and families hurrying to their cars. The shop lights flash, shop windows showcasing fried chicken and ice cream. Your stomach automatically grumbles.

Your umbrella holds up for the most part until the lights start to separate and the streets once again turn dim and dirty. The sudden gusts of wind fold it in and it snaps. Soda cans and bags of junk food litter the edges of cement. Shops on this side are all closed, bars and steel curtains drawn. Every little sound has the back of your neck standing up. A tabby cat pops up from under a beat-up truck and it has your heart momentarily stop. Hopefully, it’s around the corner. Your hands shakily open the worn piece of paper to try and locate the street. Luckily, it’s one street down. Once you turn the corner, you head right into a narrow alley. The pepper spray is held onto tightly with clammy hands.

The situation is starting to look sketchier as you go on. Once you reach the dead end, something to the left catches your peripheral vision. Off to the side is another narrow path, much shorter than the one you just went through. It leads directly to a steel door with a neon sign right above. The letters that read Welcome bathe the entrance in blue and red. When you come closer, you notice a little plant to the side. As if it can hide the strangeness of it all when all it does is highlight. Still, the harshness of the surroundings doesn't reach this corner. For a while, you stand there as the rain continues to patter. The sign buzzes and flickers. Your clothes get more soaked but you refuse to move forward. I’m a bad bitch, I’m a bad bitch. I got this. There is vibration coming from the floor beneath your feet. The door opens and a big muscular man gestures for you to come in. This is how it starts. A cliche buff bouncer opening the rope to the gates of hell. He stares and steps aside, gesturing again. Maybe you could have made a run for it before he appeared. Not now. It would be useless. They will come looking. These people always collect. You’ve seen it before. Ultimately, the decision has been made by someone else. There's more to lose if you don't and with a tug of your bag, you trudge forward.

What you had been imagining this past week was apparently absurd compared to the vision that lay in front of you now. There was no blood, no people begging for you to help them escape. No blindfold, just plenty of men and women holding down handles at the slot machines that showed them all the wrong symbols. You walked through the desperation into another area of green felt tables and cards being dealt. The air is stuffy and it smells of smoke and alcohol. Apparently, no one else is bothered. Ahead of you, a tall man is pressing on something in his ear with a meaty hand. Darting your eyes around, you take in more. Before confusion settles in on where to go you find the answer. From the second floor, Taehyung holds onto the railing, looking around. Your eyes meet and it’s strangely intimate. Too intimate. It must not be hard to be found when your clothes are wetting the floor beneath you.

He walks towards you with a small smile. His cobalt blue suit stands out and there’s a dangly earring hanging from one ear. His appearance is much flashier than it was the last time you saw him. With one look behind you, he leads you both up the stairs. On the way, you internally chide yourself for wearing what you are now. The wet clothes make you feel like a little sewer rat. You feel like ratatouille and the confidence that brought you here is dwindling. Instead of a shoddy warehouse that was expected, you are venturing deeper into a maze of halls with red carpeting and gold-rimmed mirrors. Eyes remain forward, but your mind tries to remember every sharp turn, every step that takes you further away from an exit. It is not hard to conjure up terrible, gruesome images and they flash a mile a second. There is only silence and you do not expect anything else. Finally, Taehyung comes to a halt and you almost bump into his back. The door is red and for some reason, it hits you know what big of a mistake you have made. You feel like you’ve been personally delivered to hell’s gates. No one knows where you went tonight. They could get rid of your body and no one would look. It would be easy. Just a poor, young person who could have been tossed or thrown into the river. Another cold case, another victim. He knocks on the door in a pattern of sound and pauses. Must be a code of some sort. Loud noises and laughter get closer until the door opens abruptly and an older gentleman with peppered gray hair greets the man next to you.

“Tae, my boy. Yoongi was about to cheat again.” Tae? Yoongi? This stranger’s excitement has you even more on edge. Your palms are now sore from clenching and cutting at them with overgrown nails. Taehyung moves forward and he smiles as an arm is put around his shoulder. There’s conversation but you don’t hear any of it. Somehow you get yourself inside the room and the door shuts right after. There’s even more smoke and laughter and a champagne bottle being popped somewhere. It all whizzes by. On the outside, your face must seem neutral but the inside is ringing with alarms and warnings. It feels like there’s a hole in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere along the way, the older gentleman named Lee went off to talk to some people on a chase couch against the wall.

There is a long gambling table at the end of this well-sized room and it seems to be the destination. When you get closer, there are about eight people around it. Mostly men with frowns. It must be the small number of chips in front of them. That doesn’t matter a second later though. Not when you catch the sight of the man sitting at the head of it. There’s a force that seems to be pulling everything in space to him, everybody. Bluish Silver hair catches the lighting of the small chandelier above as he gets up with a flute in between pale hands. His fingers grab a couple of chips from his pile which is no doubt the biggest of them all. They twirl in his ring-clad fingers. The veins line them and it’s hard to not stare. The robe that hangs off his lean figure looks decadent and expensive, so much so that it would stop the question of why he is wearing it entirely. There’s so much to take in. His face is gorgeous. His gummy smile numbs the feeling of panic that set in before. He gets closer, or perhaps you do. The two of you walk up to him. Realization dawns in then. Fuck My life.

“Mr.Min, this is miss Y/N.”

#bts angst #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fake texts #namjoon #Jungkook #jin #suga #jhope #jimin #taehyung #bantansonyeondan

71 notes · View notes

myenterpriseisparked · 3 years

Text

The Voyager Bunch

Or, Rascals: Voyager Edition

-----

Based on this post

This is dedicated to @jellybeansarecool @bizships @emilie786 @joyful-voyager and @subtle-spock for providing ideas, encouragement, and for generally being really awesome people. Also they are the nicest folks ever. Go follow them.

This ain’t my first fanfiction rodeo, but it is my first Star Trek fanfiction rodeo so I beg for your patience. Also, I am perfectly aware that there are some plot holes in here. This is because I am an animal scientist, not a Starfleet physicist/biologist/whateverist. Swiss cheese also has holes and swiss cheese is good so please consider that.

Click here to read on AO3, if you prefer. Thanks for reading!

-----

Despite having only been a captain for a few years, Kathryn Janeway had seen more unusual occurrences, courtesy of the Delta Quadrant, than most Starfleet captains combined. Some days, she felt a little overwhelmed by the summary of the last three years of experiences. Other days, she was grateful for the callouses such challenges had built over her nerves, preparing her to face even the strangest incidents without panicking.

Today was a day to be grateful, because without having seen everything she had seen, the prospect of her Chief Engineer, Chief of Security, Head Helmsman, and most brilliant Ensign being reverted into child-like versions of themselves would have launched her straight into a spiral of panic.

“How-” Janeway paused for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, “how exactly did this happen?”

“Well, ya see, ‘Lanna and Harry and I were in that shuttle and then this big black thing showed up and we flew into it and there was a big flash and-”

Janeway held a hand up, cutting off the shockingly fast string of prattle. “I think I understand that part, Tom, thank you.” She spoke as gently and patiently as possible. “What I don’t understand is how Tuvok got into this.... predicament.”

She turned toward the tallest of the four children, who stood with his hands behind his back in a way that would have been exactly like Tuvok, if the pre-teen boy weren’t fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and looking around the bridge, open mouthed and starry-eyed. “Tuvok?”

The Vulcan turned toward her. “The shuttle was stuck in the anomaly and the tractor beam wasn’t working, so I rammed my ship into theirs to dislodge it.” Tuvok nearly smiled, which was jarring to see on his features, no matter how much younger he looked. “It worked, but I got sucked into the anomaly too. When we came out the other side, we looked like this.”

He motioned to Tom and B’Elanna, who were standing next to him, both of which appeared to be around the age of 5 or 6. Harry, who looked to be about a year old, was currently tucked into Chakotay’s arms, playing contentedly with the rank bar at the large man’s throat.

Janeway looked the group over, ignoring the humored smiled playing at her first officer’s lips. With a sigh, she turned to the members of her senior officer team that were not currently under the age of 13. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“I would like to run some experiments first, but I am wondering if I can age their DNA back to the correct age in a process similar to the one I used to turn you and Mr. Paris back into humans after the, ah, Warp 10 incident,” The Doctor said.

“That might put their bodies back at the right age,” Kes said, brow furrowing, “but their minds appear to have reverted to their new biological age as well. Will the DNA reversal process fix that?”

The Doctor tilted his head. “I’m unsure. I need more time to research and run simulations.”

Janeway nodded. “Get started on that right away. In the meantime,” she turned back to the children and her commander, “let’s get you four something to eat.”

Neelix jumped to his feet, practically lighting up the room with his enthusiasm. “I’ll fix you kiddos up something real nice!” He dashed over to the door with a wild grin. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll have the best grilled cheese sandwich you’ve ever smelt!” He saluted the whole room and practically bounced out the door.

Janeway glanced over at Chakotay who, for the first time since he had picked up baby Harry, looked nervous. His worried glance met her own and he tilted his head.

“Well,” Chakotay sighed, “hopefully these guys aren’t as picky of eaters as I was.”

-----

As unappealing as Janeway found Neelix’s cooking to be, it was, apparently, perfect for kids, as evidenced by the unrestrained glee with which Tom, B’Elanna, and Tuvok devoured their sandwiches.

The captain couldn’t help but smile as Tom downed the second half of his sandwich in a few bites and think how the older version of Tom would have been appalled to see himself eating Neelix’s cooking with such enjoyment.

As the older children ate, Janeway found herself spooning some kind of mashed vegetable mix into Harry’s waiting mouth. At first, she was a little uncomfortable with the idea of feeding one of her best officers, but, once she was able to get past the strangeness of the entire situation, she found herself enjoying the funny expressions and eager attitude of the baby in front of her.

“Gosh, he’s such a cute baby.” She said with a grin for the fourth time.

Chakotay leaned over, his shoulder brushing hers as he smiled at Harry. “I’d like to agree with you, Captain, but you keep hogging him so I can’t get a good look.” He turned to look her in the eye, raising his eyebrow teasingly.

She shoved him playfully with her elbow. “You got to hold him earlier in the conference room. It’s my turn.”

“I think your turn ended about ten minutes ago,” he grinned.

“I think I can find something else for you to do if you’re going to take Harry away from me, Commander.” She returned his grin.

“Fine,” Chakotay shook his head with a chuckle, “but I get him later.”

-----

Several hours had passed since lunch and, much to Chakotay’s disappointment, baby Harry was still firmly in Janeway’s possession, perched on her hip and looking for all the world like he belonged there.

Chakotay tried not to think too much about how naturally Kathryn had taken to caring for Harry as he watched her pace the bridge, checking on various scanner readings and flight paths, from his position on the floor by their command chairs. Beside him, Tom and B’Elanna rolled a ball back and forth between them, excitedly chattering about... well... everything.

“Do you think the whales were really THAT big?” Tom spread his arms out to the side.

“Yeah they were!” B’Elanna exclaimed loudly enough that the entire ship could probably hear it. Despite Chakotay’s best efforts to get her to lower her voice, the young girl seemed to only have one volume. “I saw a big fake one in a museum once and it was HUGE!”

“Whoa!” Tom’s eyes widened. “Bigger than this ship?”

B’Elanna tilted her head. “I don’t know, but it was definitely bigger than me!”

The two kids laughed, rolling the ball back and forth faster.

“Hey Tom?”

“What?”

“You’re my best friend!” B’Elanna suddenly reached forward and gave Tom a hug.

Chakotay glanced up at Kathryn to exchange a look of awe before he turned back to the kids on the floor. “But B’E, I thought you just said a few minutes ago that I’m your best friend.” He raised an eyebrow, hiding his smile.

The young girl gave him a look that he had seen far too many times on her older counterpart’s face whenever he said something particularly dumb. “I can have two best friends, duh.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

Suddenly, he saw Kathryn’s purposeful walk stop out of the corner of his eye.

“Chakotay,” her voice was even and tense, “where’s Tuvok?”

Eyes widening, Chakotay glanced around the bridge. Tuvok was no where to be seen.

“Chakotay to Tuvok.” He stood as he tapped his commbadge. “Tuvok, please acknowledge.” They waited a moment and, upon receiving no response, moved simultaneously toward the turbolift.

“It’s possible he hasn’t figured out how to use his comm.” Janeway tucked Harry closer to her side as they stepped into the lift. “Computer: locate Tuvok.”

“Unable to comply.”

Janeway gave the ceiling a glare. “Why?”

The computer did not respond.

“Maybe the de-aging effect has made it difficult for the computer to locate him.” Chakotay rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s alright; he’s probably just exploring the ship; you saw how amazed he was by everything in the conference room earlier.”

She nodded tightly. “Let’s hope so. Where do you think he’s gone?”

“Maybe to the holodeck?”

“Or his quarters.”

“What about the mess hall?”

“He just ate.”

They both paused, mulling it over.

“Alright.” Kathryn straightened. “I’ll check holodeck one and his quarters, you check holodeck two and the mess hall.” She turned back to the lift door. “Holodeck one.”

Chakotay swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying not to think of all the ways a small child could get hurt on a spaceship like Voyager. As the turbolift began to move, Janeway’s badge chirped.

“Kes to the captain.”

Her brow raised as she tapped the emblem. “Go ahead.”

“I think I’ve found something you’re missing.” Kes’s usually lighthearted tone was even lighter, clear amusement seeping through.

Kathryn turned to look Chakotay in the eye, a hopeful smile brightening her face. “I’m on my way.”

-----

Honestly, Janeway was a little ashamed of the fact that she didn’t think to go looking for her best friend among the orchids and other plants in the aeroponics bay, considering his horticulturally-related hobbies. As she and Chakotay stepped into the room, smiles crept onto both of their faces as they watched Tuvok carefully transfer one of Kes’s sprouts to a bigger pot. After patting the soil around the plant firmly, he wiped a hand across his forehead, smearing dirt on his face to match the dirt on his uniform.

Kes smiled up at the command team. “He came down and asked about a hundred questions about our system and then offered to help me with my work while we talked because its ‘more efficient to talk and work than simply talk.’”

Janeway chuckled at Kes’s approximation of Tuvok’s speech pattern. “Thanks for letting us know, Kes.” She reluctantly handed Harry to Chakotay, who flashed his dimples, and crouched next to Tuvok. “Hello there.”

Tuvok glanced up quickly before resuming his work. “Hello, Captain. Did you know that these Talaxian green beans take only a week and a half to reach maturity?”

“I did not.” Janeway raised a brow and tilted her head. “That’s very impressive.”

“I thought so too when Kes told me.” He patted the soil around another plant and set it aside, retrieving another sprout.

“Tuvok,” the captain reached forward and rested a hand on his shoulder, “I’m glad you’ve found something to do, but you have to tell someone where you’re going before you wander off. We didn’t know what happened to you and Chakotay and I were really worried.”

Behind her, Chakotay’s heart flipped. There was something rather... intimate about the way she had referred to both of them being worried about a child.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” Tuvok nodded his head. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Janeway smiled and stood. “Why don’t you help Kes down here for a while and then come back up to the bridge when you are ready?” She looked at Kes. “That is, if Kes is alright with that.”

The young woman smiled. “Of course, I’d love some help.”

Janeway nodded and turned back to Tuvok. “Be sure to let us know when you’re on your way back up.”

“Of course, Captain.”

She patted him one last time on the shoulder and turned back to Chakotay. They fell into step beside one another and entered the elevator.

As the doors whooshed closed, Janeway turned to Chakotay with the intention of reclaiming Harry, but stopped. A smile grew across her lips as she watched Chakotay bounce Harry gently, allowing the little boy to palm his tattoo in curiosity. Even as one of Harry’s chubby fingers poked him in the eye, Chakotay simply chuckled and took the tiny hand in his own.

He finally turned to look at her. “What?”

Kathryn just shook her head, grinning wider. “I was going to take Harry from you, but I can’t bear to break up this cute little arrangement.” She motioned to the two of them with a long finger.

The corner of Chakotay’s mouth kicked up a little higher. “Captain, did you just imply that I’m cute?”

Her brow arched, but her smile didn’t diminish. “It would be hard for anyone to look unappealing with a cute baby in their arms.”

Her heart stopped suddenly as she realized what she had just said. From the look of Chakotay’s face, he had caught it too. Implying that he and the baby were cute was one thing; calling him “appealing” was another. Before she could say anything else she might regret, Kathryn turned back to the lift door, schooling her features back into the face of the Captain.

If she had turned but a half-second later, she would have seen a wide smile break across Chakotay’s face.

-----

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I need more time. I won’t deactivate myself until I have a solution, but this situation is very delicate and I can’t risk rushing my tests. You’ll need to find somewhere for the children to sleep. Hopefully I’ll have a solution tomorrow.”

Kathryn nodded. “Of course. Thank you, Doctor.”

With a grim smile, the feed from sickbay switched off, leaving her to look at her dark reflection in the black screen. Something like relief swept over help alongside a touch of regret. On one hand, she could really use her senior officers back in functioning shape. On the other hand....

Her eyes drifted back down to Harry, who had pulled a bit of her hair out of it’s ponytail and was curling it around his tiny fist in unbreakable fascination. A smile tugged at her lips as she cuddled him a bit closer.

She could get used to this.

The thought struck her before she even knew what she was feeling and, as soon as she admitted it to herself, she took that feeling and shoved it as deep into the recesses of her mind as she could. She was the captain of a ship that was constantly in danger and she shouldn’t dwell on things she couldn’t have.

Kathryn sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Well, Harry, looks like we need to find you a place to sleep.”

Turning back to the computer, she moved to set him down so she could use both hands to search the crew quarters layouts for a suitable place to keep the children overnight. As soon as Harry’s feet touched the ground, a wail rose from the back of his throat and his face scrunched.

Kathryn quickly scooped him back up. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

The boy’s cry of protest faded into whimpers and he buried his head in her shoulder, clinging to her tightly.

A warm feeling washed over her. “Ah,” she smiled, “I see.”

She pulled him closer and turned back to the computer, tapping buttons with one hand. “You can stay up here with me, then.”

The door to her quarters chimed.

“Come in.”

Before she could turn to greet her guest, mischievous giggles rose from the door. Eyebrow raised, she whirled around to find Chakotay standing in the doorway, a stack of PADDs in his hand, a tiny engineer on his left leg, and a tiny helmsman on his right.

He stepped forward with far less difficultly than she would have expected, given the extra weight on his legs. He crossed the room quickly and passed the PADDs to her. “The crew reports you requested.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, glancing down at the still giggling forms. “Not to alarm you, Commander, but it would seem that you have a couple of lifeforms attached to you.”

Chakotay’s eyes grew wide in mock surprise. “Really?” He turned his head and shuffled around, as if to look at his back. “Where?”

Tom and B’Elanna’s laughter grew. Suddenly, Chakotay leaned over and scooped the two of them off his legs, lifting them both up over his shoulders as their shrieked in delight.

He turned back to Kathryn with a wide smile. “Not to worry, Captain, I’ve apprehended the life forms.”

She smiled back with a soft chuckle. “We need to find a place for the life forms to stay tonight.”

Chakotay’s smile faded into a more serious, but not displeased look. “The Doctor doesn’t have a solution yet, then?” He lowered Tom and B’Elanna to the ground. They scampered off to the viewport, excitedly chattering about the stars.

“No, he needs a bit more time.”

Chakotay nodded. “Maybe I could take them for the night, that way someone is there to keep an eye on them.”

Kathryn shook her head. “I have no doubt in your babysitting abilities, Commander, but four children is a lot for one person to watch alone and your quarters are not big enough for Trouble 1 and Trouble 2 to run around in.” She gestured to the kids at the window.

“Fair point. Maybe I should take Harry and Tuvok then, and you could take Tom and B’Elanna?”

She turned Harry away from Chakotay. “Trying to take my boy again, are you Chakotay?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Do you have another idea, then, Mom?”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to smirk at him and continue speaking without any indication that his previous sentence had impacted her. “My quarters are the largest on the ship. If we set up cots here in my living room we could easily both keep an eye on the children overnight.”

“Sounds good to me.” He glanced up at the clock on the wall. “How about I go collect Tuvok from aeroponics and some food from the mess hall while you get the cots set up?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He gave her one last lingering smile, which she returned, before heading out the door and down the hall.

-----

Apparently the lunch they had shared earlier that day had been misleadingly easy. Supper was, to put it lightly, a challenge.

“B’Elanna, eat your own food and stop taking from Tom’s plate,” Kathryn said firmly.

“But Tom isn’t eating it!”

“I was going to eat it! I’m just a slower eater than you are!”

“Well eat faster then!”

“B’Elanna!” Chakotay set down the spoon he had been using to feed Harry and fixed her with a stern look. “That food isn’t yours, and Kathryn already asked you to stop taking Tom’s food. You won’t be asked again.”

B’Elanna mumbled out an apology and stuffed another bite of her own meal into her mouth.

Kathryn shot Chakotay a grateful smile and turned to Tuvok, who was holding up one of his vegetables to the light. “Tuvok? What are you doing?”

“I’m looking at the xylem and phloem of this plant.”

She bit back a smile. “I appreciate your curiosity, Tuvok, but I need you to stop studying your food and start eating it.”

The young Vulcan turned to her and nodded. “Of course.” He politely chewed and swallowed his food and turned back to the captain. “Did you know that this particular plant is a distant cousin of Terran broccoli? You can tell by the-”

Chakotay smiled as he watched Kathryn listen to Tuvok’s fourth lecture of the evening on plant biology. Neither of them were certain of what he was talking about most of the time, but his enthusiasm for the subject was nearly infectious and neither of them minded listening.

“Chakotay?”

He turned away from the scene across the table and looked at Tom next to him. “Yes?”

“After dinner, will you read to us?”

“Of course.” Chakotay smiled and ruffled Tom’s hair. “Anything particular you want to hear?”

“I want to hear about your missions with the Maquis!” B’Elanna bounced in her seat, all of that barely-contained Klingon energy starting to spill over.

“Or perhaps you could read to us from a classic story,” Tuvok raised a brow. “I’m fond of the works of Tolkien, maybe Tom and B’Elanna would like ‘The Hobbit’ too?”

“What’s a hobbit?” Tom’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Maybe,” Kathryn interjected before Tuvok could give a detailed recounting of the beloved childhood book, “Chakotay could tell us a story from his tribe.” Her eyes met his across the table. “He is pretty good at recounting ancient legends.”

Heat crept up the sides of Chakotay’s face as he held her stare. “Maybe.”

“Nah,” Tom’s voice broke through the pleasant tension between them. “I wanna know what a hobbit is!”

Chakotay chuckled. “Alright, ‘The Hobbit’ it is.”

-----

It took some time to get the older three to settle into bed, but finally, they began to yawn and snuggle deeper under their blankets. As their heads grew heavier, Chakotay wrapped up his story telling and the command team began to tuck their young companions in for the night.

As Chakotay wished Tom and Tuvok a good night’s rest, Kathryn carefully extracted B’Elanna from where she was snuggled into her side and took her over to her cot. As she got the small girl settled, she suddenly reached up and captured Kathryn in a tight hug. Surprised, Kathryn’s eyes widened, but she returned the gesture in earnest.

“Kathryn?”

“Yes, B’Elanna?”

“You’re my best friend.”

Kathryn blinked and pulled back to look B’Elanna in the eyes with a small smile. “I thought Chakotay and Tom were your best friends.”

“I can have more than one best friend.” B’Elanna’s voice was filled with deep confidence, despite how sleep-laced it was.

“Fair enough,” Kathryn chuckled, pulling the blankets tightly around the girl. “Goodnight.”

She met Chakotay in her bedroom, Harry still in his arms.

“Any time I try to set him down he starts crying.” Chakotay grinned sheepishly.

She grinned back. “I had a similar experience earlier today.” She reached up and brushed hand over the boy’s soft, black hair. “Its a good thing he weighs next to nothing.”

At Kathryn’s gentle touch, Harry stirred. His dark eyes found Kathryn’s and he reached out for her. With a look of mock hurt, Chakotay transferred the boy to his desired location.

“I’m trying not to be offended right now, Harry.”

Kathryn simply grinned and bounced the baby in her arms gently. “It’s alright, Chakotay. He has excellent taste.”

Chakotay shook his head, dimples flashing. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

She turned toward the bed and settled herself on one side, her back resting against the pillows and Harry resting against her chest. “Let’s see if we can get this one sleepy enough to not notice if we set him down.” She looked back at Chakotay, who was still standing, rather awkwardly. She patted the bed next to her with a smirk. “Come on, Commander. Get some rest. We’ve has a big day, wrangling the kiddos.”

He smiled and crossed the room to the other side of the bed, gently sitting next to her, his legs stretched out. “It has been a long day,” he said with a sigh. “But, I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed it.” He tilted his head to look at Kathryn, who was already looking up at him.

“Nor I.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, Chakotay was very aware of how close their faces were. He watched as Kathryn’s eyes slid down to his lips. Before he could do something he couldn’t take back, he took a deep breath and turned away.

“Well,” Kathryn cleared her throat, sounding more like the Captain now, “it’s been fun but we should get some sleep. I’ll keep an eye on Harry here and take him to his cot in a few minutes. You should go ahead and rest, Commander.”

“Of course.” He tilted his head and gave her a small smile. “Goodnight, Kathryn.”

She grinned back. “Goodnight, Chakotay.”

-----

Apparently, Kathryn didn’t stay awake long enough to take Harry back to his cot, as evidenced by the weight on her chest as she stirred awake the next morning. She slowly became aware of her surroundings and the previous day’s events came flooding back to her.

She also became distinctly aware of the warm, comfortable presence beside her. As she opened her eyes, she realized that her first officer’s arm was settled around her shoulders and that his shoulder was currently her pillow. His head rested atop hers and the hand that was not draped around her shoulders was resting on top of Harry’s back next to her own.

The situation was all rather snuggly and, were it not a violation of every professional barrier Kathryn had erected between her and the commander, she would have had no issue in savoring the moment.

Then again.... maybe she could allow herself just a few moments to pretend that the baby in her arms wasn’t her star technical officer and that the man holding her close wasn’t her XO and that this was a perfectly normal situation.

Before she could get too far into her fantasy, however, Chakotay stirred next to her, his dark eyes fluttering open to find her own.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice huskier than her own as sleep clung to it.

“Good morning.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Chakotay carefully extracted himself from her side, helping her up so she could carefully place Harry in his cot in the living room without waking the boy or the other children who were still sleeping. Without a word, they quietly prepared breakfast and coffee, steeling themselves for another day of handling the kids.

-----

“I’m afraid I’m a bit.... stuck,” The Doctor ground out with obvious difficulty.

The captain raised an eyebrow. The EMH admitting that he was struggling to solve a problem was a rare instance indeed. “How so?”

With a huff, The Doctor turned back to his desk, flipping through experimental results from a stack of PADDs. “Kes was right; the DNA reversal process I initially thought might work will not account for the de-aging of the officers’ brains, so I decided to look at the type of radiation that might have caused this and, to be completely honest, Captain,” he turned back to look her in the eye, “I have absolutely no idea how this even happened. There’s no evidence of radiation, the temporal energy around them is unidentifiable, and I can’t figure out how their cells and their minds were reversed.” He lowered his head. “I’m unsure of how to even proceed from here.”

Kathryn nodded, taking the emotions that were beginning to tumble in her chest and stuffing them as far down as she could. “Very well, Doctor. Take a rest and we can all come back to the issue later once we’ve had time to think.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up. “Don’t despair yet; there’s a lot of other brilliant minds on this ship besides your own. We’ll figure it out together.” She smiled and gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading into the turbolift.

As the doors slid open, she found Tuvok waiting in the lift for her. She smiled down at him and stepped inside, calling for the bridge.

“Chakotay to the captain.”

She tapped her badge. “Go ahead.”

“We need you on the bridge, there’s a bit of a situation.”

She raised a brow, glancing down at Tuvok, who was gazing at her intently. “On my way.”

-----

“So they want to.... interview us?”

“They want to interview you specifically.”

“To see if we are worthy of going through their space.”

“Something like that.”

“And going around their space isn’t an option?”

“It would add another 7 months to our journey, so this interview is our ideal option.”

“No pressure, eh, Commander?” Janeway shifted Harry from one hip to the other with a long sigh. “Alright. Hail them.”

After a moment, a blue and red humanoid alien appeared on the screen.

“Greetings, Ambassador.” The Captain flashed a polite smile. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager.”

The alien woman inclined her head. “Hello, Captain Janeway, I’m Ambassador Tel Parah of the Doonian Delegation.” Her eyes swept the bridge. “You’re ship is heavily armed, which, according to the laws of our people, requires that we do a personal interview of the commanding officer to ensure that violence or other manners of chaos will not be instigated as you pass through our space.”

“Of course, I understand.” Janeway smiled again. “What questions may I answer for you?”

Over the course of the next 30 minutes, Janeway was grilled on their purpose in passing through Doonian space, the types and numbers of weapons they carried, and the journey they had made so far. Just as Janeway thought there wasn’t possibly anything more she could tell them, Ambassador Parah paused and looked up from the computer device in her hand to study Janeway. After a moment, she spoke again.

“Just one more thing, Captain Janeway,” a slow smile slipped onto her face, “What’s your son’s name? He’s absolutely precious.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows in surprise and glanced down at Harry, who she had nearly forgotten was still in her arms. At some point, he had removed her combadge and was currently turning it over and over again in his tiny hands, taking a moment here and there to bite parts of the object he must have found particularly interesting. Kathryn exchanged an amused glace with Chakotay, who shrugged off screen, before turning back to the ambassador.

“This is Harry.” Janeway smiled, turning the boy so the ambassador could see him better.

The other woman smiled widely. “How adorable. He has the brightest eyes.”

“He does.” Kathryn smiled back down at him.

“You know,” Parah leaned back in her chair, “I usually don’t allow anyone through our space that isn’t from a system or planet we are already know and trust and so I wasn’t planning on letting Voyager pass. However, when I saw your baby and how well-cared for and happy he seems, I felt that I could trust you somehow.” She smiled again. “We value children highly in the Doonien Delegation. Children are often a reflection of a parent’s character. I can tell by Harry’s disposition and curiosity that you are of a fine character, Captain.”

Janeway cuddled Harry a little closer, heart warming. “Thank you, Ambassador, I take that as a high compliment.”

“As you should.” Parah leaned forward again. “You may pass through our space. We will have you stop at three checkpoints on your way though which I will send you the coordinated for in a moment. Have a safe journey.”

The screen went blank and Kathryn turned to Chakotay.

“Should I feel bad that I let her believe Harry is my son?”

Chakotay chuckled, stepping close enough and lowering his voice enough that the rest of the bridge could pretend not to hear him. “Are you saying he’s not?”

Her gaze grew softer. “I guess he’s sort of been like a son to me since we got on board.” She looked back down at him. “I feel very protective of him.”

Chakotay rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know.”

They smiled at each other again. Chakotay opened his mouth to say something more but, suddenly, there was a tug at Kathryn’s elbow.

“Captain? Now that the negotiations are over, I think I have an idea about how to fix Tom, B’Elanna, Harry, and me.” Tuvok’s eyes were bright and eager.

“Alright,” Captain Janeway smiled down at him. “Let’s get The Doctor up here and we’ll hear your idea together.”

-----

Chakotay exchanged glances with The Doctor and the Captain over the table as he bounced both Tom and B’Elanna on his knees. “Could that really work? It seems almost too easy.”

“Well, if this is a phenomena that’s inexplicable and is tied only to the anomaly the shuttles passed through, I feel like sending the children back through isn’t our worst idea.” The captain rubbed the back of her neck. “Doctor?”

The holographic man continued typing into his PADD for a moment before stopping and reading. “I- I honestly think this could work.” He slid the PADD over to Janeway. “It’s hard to predict, since we have no idea what exactly caused this, but if we send the shuttles through the anomaly opposite of the way they first went through, I think it just might turn them back to their usual ages.”

“How do we know it won’t just make them even younger?” Chakotay watched as B’Elanna slipped off of his knee, pulling Tom along with her to go play in the corner.

“We’d have to run some tests to be sure that they don’t. Perhaps we could send a plant through first, or some other organic life form.” The Doctor took the PADD back and made a note.

“We would also have to make sure that, if the tests show some promise, Tuvok can take the shuttle back through the anomaly.” Janeway turned to the boy sitting at her right. “Well, Tuvok? Do you think you could pilot the shuttle?”

He shook his head. “Since I don’t have my older self’s memories I don’t think I could.”

“We could use the tractor beam to send the shuttle through,” Chakotay said. “If we give them enough of a push to go through the anomaly, they should be able to pilot themselves back to Voyager once they get out the other side and have returned to their normal ages.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows. “Well, it’s worth a shot and I don’t have any better ideas. Commander, set a course for the anomaly. Doctor, prepare the experiments.”

-----

Tom and B’Elanna seemed to sense that something was up as they suddenly became even more clingy. The whole trip back to the anomaly, B’Elanna shared the captain’s chair with Kathryn, insisting with all of her Klingon passion that the older woman tell her more stories from earlier in their journey through the Delta Quadrant. At the helm, Tom hung on to Chakotay’s arm, watching the stars go by and asking Chakotay a hundred questions about piloting starships. Tuvok sat in Chakotay’s usual seat, interjecting with questions of his own here and there, and Harry sat on Kathryn’s knee, chewing on her jacket sleeve, her combadge still clutched tightly in his left hand.

After they reached the anomaly, it took a couple of hours for The Doctor to complete his experiments and, once he had declared that plants that had gone through the anomaly twice were returned to the same age the started as, they began preparing the children to enter the anomaly themselves.

“Will it hurt?” B’Elanna asked in the smallest voice she had ever used in her life as Kathryn tucked the small Starfleet uniform that she had come through the anomaly with around her shoulders.

“It won’t,” Tuvok said. “It didn’t hurt when we came through the first time, did it?”

She shook her head, but didn’t look very reassured.

“It’s okay, ‘Lanna!” Tom grabbed her hand. “I’ll be right beside you.”

Kathryn stood and took a step back, feeling almost as if someone had filled her chest with some of Neelix’s heavy stew. She had to let them go, of course, this wasn’t the way they were supposed to be, but she was certainly going to miss seeing the level of innocence her officers had now. B’Elanna was unburdened by trust issues, Tuvok was passionate and bright, and Tom - well, she supposed he hadn’t changed all that much, but at least he seemed to be genuinely happy, not just putting up a front of humor to protect himself.

It would be hard to see them go back, but maybe, now that she understood how the world and time had changed her friends, she could help them.

She was shaken from her thoughts by a tug at her collar. She looked down to see Harry pulling at her pips, completely enamored by the gold metal.

“Oh, Harry.” She nearly choked on his name. Since he was so young now, she didn’t have any insight into his personality after having seen him as a baby, but she was going to miss his innocent curiosity and familiar weight on her hip.

Before she could think too much about it, she handed Harry over to Tuvok. The younger boy scrunched his face up and whimpered at the change of hands, but Tuvok bounced him gently and he settled down, reaching for the pointed tip of Tuvok’s ear.

Kathryn took a step back, feeling Chakotay step up behind her so that they were nearly touching. “Best of luck, you four.” She gave them her most reassuring smile. “See you on the other side.”

She and Chakotay hurried up the bridge and gave the go ahead for the ensign who had taken over Harry’s post to begin using the tractor beam to move the shuttle out into the anomaly. They stood side-by-side on the bridge and watched the shuttle go through. At come point, they grabbed each other’s hands and squeezed each other tightly.

There was a flash as the shuttle passed through the anomaly. After a few terrifyingly quiet moments, the shuttle came bursting out of the other side and a voice crackled over the comm.

“Cochran to Voyager,” confusion leaked through Tom’s voice. “What the hell just happened?”

Kathryn and Chakotay smiled at each other in relief. “What’s the last thing you remember, Tom?” Chakotay asked.

“B’Elanna, Harry, and I were coming back to Voyager when we- wait a second, how did you get here, Tuvok?”

Janeway laughed. “Why don’t we get you four back on board and then we’ll explain everything.”

“Copy that. See you in a few.” Tom’s voice grew quieter, like he was leaning away from the comm. “I have a feeling this is going to be one heck of a story.”

-----

After everyone had been debriefed and left to process the last two days of strangeness, Chakotay found Kathryn in her favorite spot; on her couch and staring wistfully out at the stars as they drifted past. She had shucked her jacket and taken her hair out of it’s clip, leaving her in her grey turtleneck with her hair falling around her shoulders and face.

“Got a lot on your mind?”

She turned to smile at him, a note of sadness in her eyes. “It’s been an interesting couple of days.”

He settled on the couch a ways down, turning to face her. “It sure has.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m going to miss our kids.”

“Me too. It was fun having little ones around, playing at being a parent.” She fidgeted with the seam on the couch. “It was different and they sure did give us some challenges,” she chuckled, “but I loved it.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids of ou-” he coughed, “your own?”

Her crystal blue gaze caught his. “Yes.” She smiled and looked out the window again. “I always thought someday I would be a mother.” With a snort and a smirk, she continued; “Of course, I never thought I’d be mothering my helmsman, security officer, engineer, and technical officer.”

Chakotay laughed softly. “I think you were mothering them before they were turned into actual children.”

“Perhaps.” A pause. “What about you? Did you ever think about being a father? Outside of the whole instance with Seska, of course.”

He nodded. “When I was in the Maquis, no. My life was too fast-paced to be a proper father. If I was going to be a dad, I wanted to do it right and I couldn’t have done that from a Maquis ship.” He took a deep breath. “After joining this crew, though.... I’m in a better place now, and I think I’d be thrilled to be a father.” He looked over at Kathryn to find that she was already looking at him with something like wonder in her eyes. He held her gaze for a moment and, finally finding a bit of courage, he said: “I’m more at peace.”

A smiled played at the corners of her lips, and her eyes looked a little like they were silver-lined, though Chakotay couldn’t quite tell for sure in the low light of her quarters.

“You were really good with the kids. You would make an excellent father, I have no doubt.”

He smiled. “You would make an excellent mother. You’re a natural.”

“Thank you, but I barely felt like I knew what I was doing.” She chuckled.

“You could have fooled me.” He grinned for a moment, before his countenance grew more serious. “I hope you get your wish someday, Kathryn. I hope you get to be a mother.”

She was quiet for a moment, and Chakotay suddenly felt his chest tighten. Had he said too much.

Before he could fall too far into his panic, her hand slid over to his, giving it a squeeze. He looked up into her eyes, which definitely had tears in them now.

“I hope you get to be a father too Chakotay. Someday.”

He squeezed her hand back and they both fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the view of the stars outside Kathryn’s window.

#whew okay that got emotional there at the end #lets all take a breather and remember cute little Harry #Okay that's better #anyway #thanks for reading!#hopefully this wasn't too plot-hole-ridden #star trek voyager #kathryn janeway #captain janeway #janeway #chakotay #harry kim #b'elanna torres #tom paris #tuvok #neelix #kes #the EMH #the doctor

36 notes · View notes

anotheronechicagobog · 3 years

Text

Functional Dysfunction - Rheese - Chapter 5 - It Isn’t Salad

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, mention of abortion, mention of attempting to force abortion, unplanned preganancy, Connor and Robin are still together, Jimmy is still an ass, but now so is Chilli

The next day everyone was acting weird around her. Manning and Maggie were now running away from her, Halstead couldn't meet her eyes, Choi pretended to take a phone call when they were alone in the doctor's lounge, and Doris was completely silent. That never happened. She gossiped about anything and everything, until now Sarah hadn't believed there was a force on earth powerful enough to shut her up.

A distraction came in the form of a mass casualty structural collapse at a construction site. Injured workers flooded in, while Sarah and Choi were tasked with going to the scene and treating people in the field. It was Sarah's first time working like that. So far it had only been fully stocked EDs or ORs with copious amounts of staff ready to jump into action. Here there were limited supplies, limited staff, and unlimited chaos.

So far the building they were constructing was a small five-story apartment building, it didn't have any walls or floors, it was just metal beams and underlying structure. Half of the crossbeams had just... Come off, taking the workers that were on them, towards the concrete foundation, where other workers were. It was a grizzly, awful site. There were going to be so many casualties, no doubt about it. She reached her first patient, a woman no older than twenty, whose arm was being crushed by a beam near the shoulder. It was purple. She had to amputate.

Red tag, red tag, black tag, red tag, black tag, black tag, black tag, red tag, green tag, black tag, red tag.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She hadn’t eaten in ten hours and there were two more action-packed hours left in her shift. While she was finally back in the hospital, she couldn’t help but feel like she was still at the disaster site. One wrong move, one wrong word, and tragedy would occur. Of course at Gaffney it would be social tragedy, but still, she felt like she was navigating a mine field. She’d been on her feet non-stop since her shift started and she was feeling more mentally drained than physically drained. The other interns looked at her the way she imagined vultures would, beady eyes looking at your dying soul, ready to devour your corpse. Except... She wasn’t dying. She was in perfect health, it was apparent that they thought her career was about to be drop-kicked into an active volcano. Boy were they in for a surprise.

“Dr. Reese, scrub up, I need you in the OR with me.” Chad Dovingly, the resident “legacy” intern, almost yelled at Dr. Abrams, but Sarah watched him stop himself. “Sam-”

“Do not call me by my first name, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. Call me ‘Dr. Abrams’ or don’t speak to me at all.”

“Right, right, my apologies. Dr. Abrams, are you sure that Dr. Reese is the right choice? I mean, I was literally born to be a surgeon, I was in the top ten at my med school, and Dr. Reese, well... Is this because she’s pregnant-”

“Stop. Talking. You may have been in the top ten of your class, but she was the first in hers. She has shown far more dedication and skill than any of you here, and I will not stand here while you not only accuse me of favouritism, but belittle your colleague and fellow intern because of a matter that is absolutely none of your business. The reason you aren’t scrubbing in as much is that you’re not good enough to yet, so if you want to scrub in more, prove to me that you’re worthy of it, because honestly so far Dr. Reese and Dr. Kim are the only ones who have done so.” He dismissed the other interns with only a head nod, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway. “Dr. Reese, the surgery is in two hours. Read up on the procedure and eat something, then meet me in OR four.” The confusion must have been displayed on her face so he sighed and pulled her to the side away from the other interns. “Dr. Manning cornered me earlier and informed me that you’ve been on your feet all day, and you’re going to be staying late. So eat something and then join me in the OR.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll see you in two hours then.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She had a sandwich in her bag, but she doubted that the cold cut meats would still taste good after all this time. She debated going to the cafeteria but at this time all that would be available was heavy fast food. “Sarah?”

“Hi Dr. Manning, don’t worry Dr. Abrams ordered me to eat something before I join him in the OR.”

“Good. I was actually coming to get you, we ordered pizza down in the ED and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“Something tells me you’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“A correct assumption, come on it should be here by now.”

They were almost at the doctor’s lounge when Sarah couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. “... You know, don’t you?”

“Yes. We all do. I’m sorry that we’ve been avoiding you all day, we just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“What sur-”

“SURPRISE!” Sarah jumped out of her skin and then looked around the lounge. There was a shiny blue ‘congratulations’ banner along the back wall, streamers taped to the ceiling and a stack of pizza boxes on the table. “We want you to know that we’re here for you and that we’re happy for you. I know that you don’t have a lot of time, she needs to scrub up at OR four in... one hour and fifty-one minutes, but celebrate with us a little now, we just want to make sure that you feel supported.”

“And that you eat, no one needs you fainting in an OR.”

“Thank you, all of you, so much... I really appreciate this, I was pretty scared at first, I still am, but I’m confident in my decision.”

“Trust me, we know Sarah.” Puzzled, she looked around at her co-workers and found them all snickering in the direction of Connor and Robin. Connor blushed and lowered his head with anawkward smirk while Robin rolled her eyes. “Doris tried to talk smack and I can honestly say that I have never seen someone get verbally eviscerated so viciously. Showed all of us not to mess with Robin.” Everyone around her chuckled and seemed to unanimously agree with Maggie. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Sarah. Besides I think it was about time someone knocked her down a peg. I mean, I know that gossip is just a part of hospital life, but she just takes it to a whole other level.”

Maggie and Nat were the least tense around her since this whole thing started, Choi and Halstead just seemed relieved that there wasn’t anything wrong with her, April and Noah just seemed content to make her laugh as loud as possible, Robin made sassy quips about the two of them sticking together, and Connor just made sure she always had pizza on her plate. They exchanged a smile when he made sure that she was the first one to eat ‘I know that it’s not salad but it’s still pretty good’. Sarah couldn’t have been more delighted to see Connor moving more freely, lighter, with an enormous weight having been removed from his shoulders.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The surgery... Did not go well, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault thankfully. Their patient had the largest tumor she’d ever seen in the centre of their brain and when Dr. Abrams removed it, it looked horrifying to be frank. There was literally a hole in this poor man’s brain which unfortunately resulted in brain damage. It was a serious risk from the beginning, so the patient and family had been informed numerous times in the days leading up to and of the surgery. Delivering that news had been assigned to Sarah and she was not looking forward to it. She left the recovery suite where the patient has just been examined after waking up and went to the waiting room where his husband was waiting along with his twin sister were after Dr. Abrams told them to wait while they examined him. “How is he?”

“He’s okay, right?”

“I am so sorry to tell you this, but he did sustain significant brain damage and it’s very likely that it’s permanent. There’s also a possibility that he could... Pass away due to the severity.” The second that the word ‘sorry’ was out of her mouth they both broke down in tears, holding onto each other for dear life. “You can see him, if you want, and I can explain a few things. Dr. Abrams will check on him again tomorrow at seven am, to give him more time to improve-”

“So, he could get better, my brother could recover.”

“I need to stress that while that is a vague possibility, it is incredibly unlikely, and I don’t want to get your hopes up. I’m so sorry.”

“... Can you take us to him? Or at least me? I totally understand if you can’t see him yet, he’s your twin, but... We- He’s the love of my life. I need to see him.” Sarah nodded and gestured for them to follow her, she wasn’t sure if his sister would at first, but she did, with a far-off, grave look in her eyes. Sarah tried not to think about it, after all, this poor woman was just told her twin brother suffered brain damage and would probably never be the same again, she was allowed to react however she needed to. Still... Sarah couldn’t help but feel like foreshadowing had taken physical form, like her patient’s sister knew more than she was saying.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah had forty minutes left in her shift when alarms started blaring. She knew before she even turned around who it was and what the outcome would be. Despite being in her usual ‘crap someone’s dying’ speed her ankles felt like lead, and her soul had stayed at the computer she was working on. Her mind was still there, still searching her head for the best course of action before conducting it, giving orders to nurses, telling someone to get his loved ones out of the room, and shouting for someone to page the on-call neurosurgeon... But it was no use. And from the way everyone was looking at each other that this was the outcome they expected. “Time of death, 21:37.” Her voice felt so out of place, the vibrations her thoat made were irritating. The late patient’s fiance and sister were in the doorway. He was sobbing so inconsolably, so loud, it made Sarah’s heart clench. She however, looked numb, like a part of her just died. She looked Srah dead in the eyes and Sarah’s heart broke all over again. She’d known. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you Dr. Reese... I know that you and Dr. Abrams did everything you could. Could- could we have a moment with my brother? To say... Goodbye?”

“Of course.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When she finally left the hospital she was in tatters. She wasn’t sure if it was the pregnancy hormones or if it was her patient’s death, but all that she really wanted to do was cry. No, she needed to cry. Sadness and despair was bubbling up inside of her and she just didn’t want to keep it inside her. But of course the universe had other plans. When she finally made it to her car the last two people she wanted to see were standing beside it and sitting on it. She sighed, on the verge of tears and not in any mood to deal with either of them. “Jimmy. Chilli.”

“We need to talk.”

“We don’t actually. We really, really don’t. You don’t want to be involved and that’s fine. When they’re born we’ll do a paternity test because that’s what’s required for you to sign away your rights, and then you’ll do just that, and then you’ll walk away. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I’m not okay with you having my baby.”

“And I’m not okay with it either, he’s my... Boyfriend and I don’t want another chick to have his child.”

“Okay, first of all, neither of you get a say and whether or not I have this child. My body, my decision, that’s it. Second, Chilli, you have absolutely no say here in anything. You are not the mother or the father and I’m not even sure if you guys are dating given your hesitation in calling Jimmy your ‘boyfriend’ and you have such a volatile on/off relationship, you get zero say in anything even remotely related to my baby.”

“HEY! DON’T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT-”

“Speak to me like an adult or don’t speak to me at all. You don’t get to yell at me, you don’t get to use that tone with me, it’s not okay.”

“I CAN SPEAK TO YOU HOWEVER I WANT! AND YOU ARE GETTING AN ABORTION EVEN IF I HAVE TO DRAG YOU THERE MYSELF!” In the next three seconds Sarah observed three things:

There were two of them and one of her

They were in a dimly lit, poorly monitored parking garage alone

They had to deal with violent people at their jobs more than she did and would likely overpower her

“The hell she is! She made her choice Borelli and you didn’t get a say in it!” Okay, so #2 was not true apparently, as Connor walked closer to them from the entrance. “This isn’t any of your business doc, so just go, okay?”

“You’re threatening my friend in a dark parking garage. Yes, it is my business. But it isn’t yours, you’ve said that you don’t want to be a dad, so you won’t be, and I don’t even know why Chilli is here, so you two need to get off of Sarah’s car and leave her alone.”

“No. We don’t have to listen to you. I’ll talk to her however I fucking want, I don’t have to move away from her car, and Chilli doesn’t have to get off it. Fuck. Off.”

“Connor, you worked a long shift, you shouldn’t have to stay for this, I’ll figure it out.”

“I appreciate the thought Sarah, but you worked a long day too and I’m seriously worried about your safety around them. Why don’t I just drive you home? It really isn’t a big deal.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am-”

“HEY! DON’T TALK ABOUT US LIKE WE AREN’T HERE! AND THIS ISN’T ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

“Oh, go suck an egg, Borelli. Lead the way, Connor.”

“Gladly.”

They’d managed to make it to his car before the, quite honestly delusional, couple(?) realized they were seriously leaving, and Connor was pulling away with them shouting expletives and trying to chase the car on foot. “Thanks Connor, I really appreciate this.”

“Anytime Sarah, seriously. I care about you, you’ve become someone I trust and I want you to be safe and happy. I’ll help to make that happen if you ever need it.” Maybe it was the hormones, the encounter with Jimmy and Chilli, or the day just catching up with her, but she just couldn’t keep the exhaustion and gratitude out of her voice. “Thank you.”

21 notes · View notes

chocosweets · 4 years

Text

Request filled for @subarublue 💞🧁

Can I request a short and sweet little fluffy one shot (or just headcanons if a one shot is too much) where maybe Dante (Devil May Cry 5) first begins to realize he’s putting on some weight and feels a little self conscious about it? But he tries to hide it and blow it off like it’s nothing? But Reader notices the weight and his insecurities and lets him know they find him attractive no matter what?

Word Count: 1,416

Dante/Reader, SFW

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-DMC5, DMC5 Spoilers, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Affection, Cuddling & Snuggling

Enjoy, Eclair 🍩

***

Squish, squish.

Dante inspected his reflection carefully in the yellowed bathroom mirror as he changed out of his bloodied shirt, fresh after a long job. He prodded his bare flesh and watched as it squished incessantly.

His brows knitted as he continued to test the buoyancy—to see if it actually jiggled. The part of his body in question laid at the bottom of his stomach, underneath his six pack. The smallest bit of flab rounded into a little pouch that was soft to the touch, not hard and well-built like the rest of his muscles.

It was barely noticeable (unless someone pointed it out or felt it carefully), and truthfully he himself hadn’t noticed for all these months—until he’d done a particularly elaborate jump while fighting today and his shirt had scrunched up oddly as he soared and landed. And, well, as Nero has so eloquently put it: Ha! Look at that, the old man’s finally gettin’ fucking chubby!

There had been the usual light-hearted quips thrown back at his nephew, but when he got home he thought he ought to check it out for himself. The last row of his abs was beginning to fade into soft fat, and when he exhaled, the fat at his lower stomach hung over in a small curve below his belly button, brushing against the cool metal of his belt buckle lightly. There was a good portion of it that he could grab with his palm laying against the skin. He groaned a little to himself. Didn't his demonic metabolism usually prevent this sort of thing, as it had for the better part of thirty years?

What a pain. Dante pooled the weak faucet water in his hands and splashed the cool water onto his face. Maybe the kid had been right—and maybe he should lay off the pizza until that bump in his clothes stopped being visible.

------

For the seventh day in a row, you had stopped by the office without seeing any new pizza boxes strewn around the floor.

In fact, it wasn't only that, because you could've easily chalked it up to Lady or Trish—or quite possibly even Vergil, since he almost technically lived at Devil may Cry nowadays—forcing Dante to clean up his filth after the piles and odor had gotten unbearable. Except, it had also been seven days without interrupting him during a meal, or seeing him order any, or of you even smelling the aftermath of the steamy delicacy that still lingered in the air. You had only seen him eat sandwiches for lunch or snack on potato chips during the day, and occasionally pour himself bowls of cereal when you two watched TV late into the night.

Something was definitely up, but what it was, you didn't know. His behavior was mostly the same otherwise and he hadn't been drinking lately either, so you knew he hadn't slipped into another depressive episode or anything similar to that. You were thankful for that, at least, but the fact that he'd been abstaining from his precious pizza and declining all your offers of going out for an ice cream date for a whole week was certainly suspicious.

"Hey, baby." Dante sat up further in his chair when he saw you enter. That same cute smile of his was on his face, but he didn't look as peppy and carefree as usual. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Still, you grinned back and waved as you walked toward him. "Nothing much—except for visiting this sexy demon hunter I know."

"Oh yeah?" he goaded back playfully, shifting to face you in his seat as you made your way onto his side of the desk. "Have I met him before?"

"Don't think so," you huffed out between a laugh, and as you said it Dante brought himself up and closer to you—pulling you down into a quick kiss before sitting back down.

You looked around the place nonchalantly as you pulled a chair up for yourself in front of the desk, noting the lack of boxes again. A typical cola and magazine laid on his desktop, but there were still no stray slices of pizza or empty sundae glasses.

When you settled down in your seat, you cleared your throat, and he looked at you expectantly. "So, I guess you haven't had dinner yet? We should order some pizza and eat it over a movie."

Straight to the point, not wasting any time.

You swore he bit his bottom lip guiltily at the mention of his favorite food, and that his eyes lit up brighter than stars. He opened his mouth, though, about to respond, when—his stomach grumbled accordingly, as if pleading for some delicious, gooey pizza, making his eyes widen a fraction in embarrassment.

He laughed awkwardly. "Jeez, is it that obvious?"

"Dante." You gave him a knowing, but gentle look, and he groaned, as if realizing then that there was no point in denying it.

"Fine, I'll fess up." A sigh came out, and then he leaned forward on his desk. "I've just been dieting a little. It's no big deal."

"Dieting?" Your eyebrows creased more in concern than confusion.

"Yeah, aren't you proud of little ol' me? You're always saying I eat too much junk food." But then your brow raised at the obviously poor excuse, knowing that just your nagging alone wouldn't be enough to stop him from indulging. You stared further—and he relented with a sigh. "And, well— Figured it wouldn't look very good to clients if I was too...chubby."

That was putting it lightly, considering that even though he'd quit the pizza and ice cream, he was still devouring just as much food in a day. You could spot the beginning of a squishy-firm beer belly under his clothes when he leaned over and pressed into it like this. Dante picked up his can of soda to sip so he could avoid your gaze.

"That's all?" you asked, careful not to be too accusatory. There was an even more underlying reason here. He would tell you in time when he was ready, and you didn't want to push him too far at once. You reached over, still, and put your hand on his free one. (It made him tense up a little.)

"Yes," he insisted with his voice in a quick hiss. "What's wrong with me trying to slim down a little? I'm gettin' old, you know."

"Th-There's nothing wrong with it!" Damn, this seemed like a touchy subject to approach. So, you pulled out your most convincing voice. "And, well—to be honest, I didn't think you had put on all that much weight."

"Really? You don't think so?" He said it in a sarcastic deadpan, patting his soft lower belly for emphasis and leaning back into his chair. There, you were at least finally getting closer to his real feelings. You stood up and went back to his side of the desk, crouching to eye-level. You looked at him sweetly with a smile, and he seemed to melt. Dante crossed his arms over his chest and looked away almost bashfully when he said, "...Didn't think you'd like me letting myself go and all."

"Awww, don't be all pouty~" You leaned forward to pull him into a hug, holding him close. Your chest pressed to his, and you nuzzled his face with your cheek. "I don't mind if you're nice and soft, really. You're still handsome." He mumbled something under his breath, and you giggled again. "...And you're just too cute when you're pouty like this."

That got a little chuckle out of him, and he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I get it, I get it. No more grumpy Dante tonight, I promise." He relaxed with a sigh and ran his fingers through your hair. It was quiet for a moment. "But you meant all that?"

"Of course! Whether you're a little chubby, or in your devil form, or anything—you're still my Dante no matter what."

The man in question seemed to consider that, and then he shifted to embrace you back fully, nearly crushing you with his heavy grip. "Huh… That's pretty wholesome, babe."

You couldn't help but lift your head up and kiss his cheek as you giggled. "So, pizza?"

"Only if you let me take you on that ice cream date you've been wanting."

"Deal."

You held your hand out, and Dante shook it with gusto.

#bakery orders #eclair writes #dmc #devil may cry #dante #dante x reader #dante x you #weight gain #chubby #chubby kink #wg kink #ao3 #dmc5 #subarublue #HNNNGGH THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SUCH A CUTE REQUEST I HAD SO MUCH FUN...#I do hope you like it!~

50 notes · View notes

all-might-can-smash-me · 4 years

Text

Vacation

Taishiro Toyomitsu/Fatgum x wife!Reader

Summary: just some very fluffy family vacation shit that’s just 💞💞💞💞

First time writing for Fatgum

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Shouts and giggles erupted throughout the beach condo that sat on the lowest flower of the complex, the sand almost seeming to try and kiss the deck that sprawled out towards the crystal beach, the patio furniture lapping up the warmth of the sun that shone its heat waves to the world below lovingly. Though it would have been relaxing if it wasn’t for your twin girls bouncing about, their sandcastle making artillery clanging around in their buckets they clutched onto for dear life as they chased each other about in the living room area and around the island within the kitchen as you tried to make sure everything was packed. Your oldest daughter simply sat out on the patio seemingly oblivious to the noise around her as she flipped her pages within her book, eyes earnestly following each word and devouring it within her mind. Your second oldest daughter on the other hand was too busy trying to position her phone and learn the dance moves to a tiktok dance she had just recently discovered and using the sun as a good source of ‘lighting’, well those were her words to you earlier when she declared to everyone to not try and walk into frame of her video. Your husband Taishiro had stepped out of the restroom, his clothes he was previously wearing bundled up in his hands as he was now in his appropriate beach attire, a shirt slung over his shoulder. Your eyes though gave a quick glance to the muscles that ripples through out his body before making eye contact with him.

“Please tell me how we ended up with 4 girls?” You questioned as you pushed a bottle of sunscreen to his chest, a smile upon his face as he set his shirt and old clothes aside.

“Well....you know...” he said with a wink that only made you shake your head with a laugh, finally managing to scoop up your twin daughters as they had begun to make their lap around the island within the kitchen, setting them up onto the marble countertops to begin putting sunscreen onto them with another bottle you had.

“Go out there and make sure those two have sunscreen on, they have been out there already for awhile.” You said as your nodded your head to the patio where your two older girls were outside. Taishiro gave a thumbs up as he walked up to the glass sliding door, stepping out into the warm, breezy, and salty atmosphere of the beach.

“Hey, your mother said to reapply your sunscreen unless you want to turn into lobsters, which will leave us no choice but to eat you for dinner tonight.” He said, bringing his hands up to mock a lobsters, but gained no response from the teens. Though his oldest only raised her hand to receive the bottle of sunscreen, sitting up from her relaxed position to begin applying it to herself. Now the second oldest only continued to try and do the dance she was learning correctly, which she was doing pretty and it seemed that she would make it through the whole video perfectly....until Taishiro decided to butt in beside her, trying to dance along with her from what he had seen by watching her.

“Dad! I almost had it that time!” She spoke out dramatically as she stepped forward to grab her phone, the pro hero only looming over her shoulder to watch the play back of the video, letting out a laugh at the moment he had come in to ruin it. “And I can’t post it because then it will probably get popular and I don’t want people trying to simp over my dad...” she explained in a frustrating manor, only getting a confused looking from her father.

“Ok, how do you know it’s going to get popular and what the heck does simp mean?” He asked as he looked over to something nudging his arm, which he soon discovered to be the sunscreen bottle, which he automatically grabbed to hand over to his second oldest who handed Taishiro her phone to begin applying it to herself.

“Dad, everyone knows that tiktoks with funny parents get popular on tiktok and simp is when...you know...you simp for someone! Like you find someone attractive or whatever and you hope to be with them or something like that” she tried to explain as she rubbed the sunscreen into her face and arms. “A lot of girls at school simp for you because they think your attractive when you aren’t ‘Fatgum’...though some still do, but either way it’s gross!” She said with a dramatic shiver and a gag upon handing the bottle back to her father.

“I swear I learn something new from you teens everyday...” he spoke out “How would an old man like me ever survive without your knowledge....” Taishiro said with a shake of his head as he grabbed the bottle once she was finished with it, handing her phone back to her. “You two better gather the things you want to bring down to the beach, alright? I’m sure we want to minimize the times we have to walk through the scorching hot, dry sand right here.” He reminded before heading back inside to be met with the young twins rushing past him and out onto the patio to continue their running. “I just learned what simp means...” Taishiro mumbled out as he stepped up to the counter, watching you dig around within the bag you packed to make sure you had everything.

“I forgot, you were on patrol when Mrs.TikToker over there gave me a whole history on today’s terminology” You said with a laugh before slinging the bag on your shoulder, grabbing the keys to the condo. “Come on, so we can eat lunch on the beach and get those two little girls tired enough for when we get back....I want them to sleep through the whole night.” You declared as you followed behind Taishiro who opened the sliding door for you, stepping out onto the deck behind you, door locked.

“Come here my sweeties!” Taishiro belted out before bending down to lift up his two twin girls to sit upon his arms as he began to to descend down the steps, flip flops smack up and back onto his foot with each step, soon other snacks followed when the three others followed after him onto the hot, burning sand. Though once they reached the damper parts of the beach, the two young girls scrambled down to already pick a spot to begin building their epic sandcastles. His oldest already lounging about on a towel, back to her book she was engrossed in, second oldest soon scrounging around for shells to bring to the twins for their sandcastle.

Taishiro and you? The two of set your towels along side your daughter who was engrossed in her book. “Lunch is packed if you want to grab and go!” You called out to your kids, which they swarmed to grab their bagged sandwiches and drinks before bolting back to their activities. Taishiro was already happily munching on his own sandwich, eyes taking in the nice familial scene that was before him of his beautiful family. You let out a sigh of content as you let your head rest upon the stiff muscles upon his shoulder as you also took in the nice sight before you as well.

“Now this was a much needed vacation...” sighed out Taishiro happily as he wrapped an arm around your, looking down at you lovingly. “Long over due.” He added, to which you nodded your head in agreement.

“I thought I was never going to get some time like this with you always at work and what not.” You pointed out, already fishing out your own food to eat.

“Yeah....I know, but for here on out, this is going to top priority.” He said in an almost pledge like manner as he rose his hand for good measure, though the voice of one of the twins caught his attention.

“Daddy! Can you help me? I can’t hit the bottom of the bucket right to get all the sound out properly.” They spoke out frantically as they watched the sand crumble at the top of their castle. Tiashiro only let out a laugh as he lifted himself up from the towel, walking over to them and kneeling down.

“Trouble you say? Well you called the right hero, let’s see what I can do” he assured as he began to help refill the bucket with sand.

“When is the next time we can do this with dad?” Piped up the voice from your daughter beside you, her hands placed gently upon the pages of her book to keep her place. You smiled though and passed your hand lovingly through her hair

“I’m sure a lot more now, but don’t worry over it, continue your book sweetie....”

#taishiro toyomitsu x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #mha taishiro #bnha taishiro #fatgum #fatgum x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia fic #fatgum headcanons #hawks #eraserhead #all might

232 notes · View notes

rosevanhelsing · 3 years

Text

Wendigo

Ch. 18

James had walked through all of Manx's ancient caches, noting that they had all been emptied and some even burned. The old fox had come forward.

- You are a very clever man, Mr. Charlie Manx. - James said to himself - As they say in some countries, "the devil knows more for being old than for being a devil", but even the devil can be fooled. Sooner or later I will catch you.

James got into his massive Peterbilt 359 truck, which he affectionately nicknamed-"HUNTER," and drove down the road. A plan was beginning to hatch in his mind to trap these two creatives. They were going to be his main hunting trophies, but he had to know them better. Knowing the enemy was the priority, both intrigued him a lot. How the hell had Manx managed to become immortal? And what power did Victoria Mcqueen have? If he devoured them, will he acquire their enormous powers? Would he finally be able to become a creative? Why could he only glimpse his previous landscape but not access it?

James stopped at a truck stop outside of Haverhill for his statutory break and went to the gas station store to buy food and a few other things. He grabbed some cans of Red Bull, non-alcoholic beer, and sandwiches. When he passed by the bookstore section, a book caught his eye. A children's activity book, illustrated and designed by Victoria McQueen. James leafed through it carefully, it was very nice and original.

"Sir, do you want to buy it for your children?" Said a female voice.

-Sorry, what did you say to me? -Said James

- You cannot browse without buying.

- Ah, excuse me. Yes, I'm taking it.

- Well. Shall I gift-wrap it?

- It's not necessary, I'll do it. Do you know that the illustrator is a distant relative of mine?

- Really? Oh well she makes some beautiful and super original books. My daughters love those books. The next time she stop by Haverhill to sign copies, I'll take my girls….

James was playing along with the clerk without thinking and suddenly the clerk said:

"… .I think she'll be back here for Thanksgiving, I think." Her mother lives here.

- Wow. Maybe I'll have to come back here around that time.- James took note, maybe it would be a good time to catch Vic Mcqueen. He paid for the purchase and went back to his truck. On the way, he stopped to talk to a couple of acquaintances. One of them named Fred said:

- How about my new truck? - He said pointing to a red and blue Peterbilt. James was familiar with having seen that color pattern in some movie and he was thoughtful, Fred saw James's expression and tapping the nose of the truck he said:

- Say hello to my new partner: Optimus Prime.

- That's why that color pattern sounded familiar to me. Is beautiful.

- You guys are stupid. Cars and trucks are girls. That's why I call my precious "Christine" - said Bob.

- Well guys, I'm going to rest for a while. See yaJames lay down on his seat to rest for a while and had visions. In these, he saw a girl of about six or eight years old, blonde and running with her parents with a stuffed rabbit, suddenly in a nearby tree a hole was opened and the girl entered that hole, just like Alice in Wonderland was going into the White Rabbit's den, and he saw the name of the town Libertyville near the park. James woke up, started Hunter's engine, and set off in pursuit of his next prey. A small and very tender prey.

Hundreds of miles away, Vic dreamed of the same girl and that a dark shadow with horns on its head loomed over her. Vic awoke with a cry and sobbing, scaring Lou to death who was suddenly awakened.

- My God, he's going for her, he's going for her….

- Excuse me, what are you talking about? - said Lou

- The Wendigo. She goes for a girl. He will kill her and eat her… I have to rescue her!

-Vic, Vic ... you can't go find this girl and take her away ... How do you explain it to her parents?

"They'll probably be dead and gutted by the time I get there." I will save her and take her to the police for protection.

- Ah okay. You already scared me. For a moment I thought you were going to take her to Christmasland so the Wendigo wouldn't catch up with her

Vic had that idea crossed her mind for a split second but she said:

- Don't say crazy, Lou ... I would never give her to Charlie ...

Vic got dressed quickly and ran for the bike.

At Christmasland Charlie was fast asleep and he was having the same visions as Vic, he got up, got dressed and went to the Wraith.

-We have to find a litlle girl, a creative ... -he said stroking the steering wheel of the Wraith- And I know that Vic is also going to rescue her, but we will not let Vic take her, that girl deserves to be in Christmasland. Safe from that savage Wendigo ... and who knows what foster family ...

Vic had reached Libertyville thanks to the Shortcut, she saw a huge black truck in front of a house and there was screaming inside the house, as well as a couple of shots. She gulped, hoping she wasn't late. Suddenly, a litlle girl ran out of the house, whimpering in fear, she was the one she had seen in her dreams.

"Little girl, come with me!" Vic yelled, roaring the Triumph and drawing her attention with the lights.

The girl froze for a moment, but she went to Vic.

- Come on get in, I'll save you from that monster ... - Vic said, putting her on the Triumph, and turning around.

At that moment, James came out fully dressed in Wendigo's outfit and covered in blood and shouted:

- That girl is mine, Victoria. Give she to me.

- Fuck you!

Vic accelerated the Triumph, almost making it do a wheelie.

- Hey yo, Silver- thought Vic.

James grunted and leapt into Hunter's cockpit, to chase them. He started the engine and it roared like a fierce beast, blowing copious amounts of smoke from it’s tailpipes and coming after her. Vic saw the huge truck behind her chasing her, she revved the Triumph to full throttle and said:

- Hold on…

The Shortcut appeared before her and she crossed it without thinking. On his side, James grunted and stopped Hunter before he hit a wall and said:

- So that's your power, how interesting ...

When Vic came out of the Shortcut she sighed in relief and said:

- Well, now we will call the Police and they will take care of you ... What's your name, little girl?

- Alice ...

- You don't have to call the police, Vic. I'll take care of her.- Charlie said coming out of the shadows.

#charlie manx #vic mcqueen

11 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

For the prompt fill, number 3 for Indruck seems pretty fitting!

Here you go! Prompt 3 was “sweet” , Indrid’s design is based on a barracuda and I went with SFW on this one.

“Duck, can you do me a favor when you lock up?” Leo dumps orange taffy into a glass jar.

“Sure, what d’you need?”

“Got some locks for the garbage cans; put ‘em on after you set the alarm out back. Somethin’s been getting into our trash every damn night for the last week. It makes a god-awful mess and I’m worried we’re gonna get a fine for littering.”

Duck nods, turns his attention back to the flock of tourists approaching the window. The afternoon is swallowed up in a pit of sugar-sticky air and blasts of welcome cold from the freezer. There are worse places for a summer job than Tarkesian’s Sweets--he’s right by the water, can watch the wildlife on his lunch break, and Leo is low-maintenance boss--but after eight hours on his feet getting splashed with soda or burned on the popcorn machine, he’s ready to head home. The trash locks have other ideas.

It takes ten minutes of cursing and fumbling to get the first bin secured. He doesn’t even know how the damn things are getting overturned; they seem too heavy for a raccoon or seagull to knock to the ground.

A tiny splash behind him, probably a fish jumping.

Then a crooked, shiny pole slowly enters his periphery. In dim yellow of the streetlight, he can tell the end of it is curved. It pokes inelegantly at the wall, then the locked can, then the wall once again, and then Duck’s leg.

The hook pulls back, pauses, then pokes him again.

“The fuck?” He grabs it when it goes for another jab, pulls up only for his arms to be wrenched towards the water. Not to be outdone, he tugs harder. His opponent retaliates with enough force that he almost tumbles off the pier. He growls, braces his foot on the railing, and hauls the hook and its owner up onto worn wood with him.

It’s a guy about his age, angular face framed by a mess of silver hair and pierced ears. Figures it’s some sort of artsy punk swimming around poking people in the leg. That explains why he’s shirtless too.

It does not, however, explain why he has a tail.

“Rude.” The guy sits up on his hands, silver and black tail flicking droplets of saltwater everywhere, “I don’t go around stopping you from eating.”

“Look man, I just wanted you to stop jabbin me and knockin the trash over.” Maybe if he doesn’t mention the tail it will go away.

“How else am I supposed to get at those odd, pulpy tubs full of ‘cookies and cream’ or ‘bubblegum’?”

“The fuck--wait, you were tryin’ to get the ice cream containers out of the trash?”

“Yes? I also want more of the caramel apples” he pronounces the last word “applees” causing Duck to giggle in spite of himself.

“Look, I have to piece words together from the signs on your store. And you obviously know what I meant or you would not be laughing, so do you have any in the cans or not?”

“Nope” Duck gets his laughter under control, “sold out of caramel apples today.”

“Drat” the visitor starts scooting across the pier towards the unlocked trashcan, “I’ll see what else I can find.”

“Wait don’t fuckin knock that over, Leo’ll be pissed at me if he comes back to a mess, and I don’t feel like pickin up trash because you want a snack!”

“But I’m starving!” The merman, because at this point there’s no way he can deny that’s what’s been rooting through the garbage, whacks at Duck with his tail.

“I know for a damn fact there’s food down there.” He points at the bay.

“Only if you can catch it, and only if it is not in another mer’s territory. Which much of this area is; I am new here, young, and thus have no claim to any patch of sea.”

“You ain’t got any family?” Something pings in his chest. It’s the part of his heart that made him pick out the runt of litter when his mom let him get a cat on his thirteenth birthday, that means he always splits his lunch with Juno because she’s running track and needs it more than he does, that makes him tear up when he thinks about everything a sapling has to survive to become a tree.

“Merfolk leave home at sixteen.” The merman shrugs.

Duck sighs, grabbing his keys, “If I bring you somethin to eat, will you leave the trash alone?”

“Yes.”

He shuts off the alarm, grabs a cone and fills it with bright blue ice cream. The merman is back in the water when he returns, arms resting on the pier.

“Oooh, my favorite!” He takes the ice cream, biting huge chunks out of it as Duck re-arms the door.

Crunch

“...The container is edible!!”

He sits next to the merman’s arms, “Guess you wouldn’t have had an ice cream cone before, huh.”

“No, but it is lovely. I wish humans threw these away more often.” He polishes off the treat, licks his fingers clean with moans Duck hears in his dreams later, and smiles, “thank you for the meal. Goodnight.”

There’s a final flash of silvery tail, and then Duck’s alone in the breezy night air.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s a sandwich, correct?”

“AHfuck” Duck knocks over his water bottle in surprise. He’s eating behind the candy store like usual and not expecting an aquatic dining companion.

“Apologies. I have seen you eating here before and thought you may like some company.” He sets a sea urchin on the ground and proceeds to bang on it with a rock.

“Found some lunch?”

“I followed some otters; I was mainly trying to draw them, but they led me to a kelp bed no one else was in.”

“...Wait how do you draw underwater?”

“Let me finish cracking this open and I will show you.”

Duck spends the rest of his lunch break on his belly, the merman showing him a sketchbook and enchanted pen that conjures whatever colors the illustrator envisions. The mer is genuinely excited to talk to him. He assumes the nuzzling is due to him smelling like cotton candy; he doesn’t mind, the mer’s skin is cool and he makes cute little noises whenever he touches Duck.

Before the stands, Duck asks, “You got a name?”

“Indrid.”

“Duck.”

Indrid’s eyes flick to the nearby estuary.

“Yeah, like the bird. It’s a nickname.”

“I like it.” Indrid smiles, dives, and flaps his tail once in farewell.

------------------------------------------------------

“Cutting school again?” Indrid’s voice bubbles up by his feet.

“Yep.” Duck watches the spring clouds roll by from his favorite spot on the beach. It’s secluded and far from town, meaning no one will give him shit for skipping class and nobody will see Indrid.

He worked at Leo’s until this past summer, only quitting at the start of his senior year of high school when Indrid pointed out that much of Kepler was surrounded by water and that, if Duck wanted to see him, he did not have to keep working at the candy store in order to do so.

“Not that I mind the free food.” Indrid winks.

“Just gonna bring you bulk ice cream from Safeway; no way am I missin out on that chirpin you do when you eat it.”

Duck slides the grocery bag towards the surf, “not like KCC is gonna rescind my offer. Ain’t a fuckin Ivy League or some shit.”

“And you will be happy there?”

“Yeah. They got a decent work-study program with the park, so I can still get a job as a ranger if I want to.”

“Oh. Good.”

Indrid sounds sad, and Duck sits up on his elbows. His friend’s torso is fully on land, his tail fidgeting in the foam.

“What’s up?

“I...Barclay told me his human is going to a school further inland, and I know there are many places you could got to learn. You...you did not choose to stay in Kepler because you feel the need to look after me, did you?”

“Course not.” Duck is sitting up now, aching to stroke Indrid’s hair, “I mean, I’m glad we’re still gonna be able to see each other, and I really hopin I can get a room near the beach so it’s easy to come talk. But this is the right choice for me; if I really want to, I can transfer to a different school in a few years, and I can learn a lot here without takin on a shit-ton of debt. Besides, ain’t like I think you’re helpless; I love bringin you stuff and rubbin your fin when it’s sore, but that’s because you’re my friend. Don’t think you’re helpless. I never have.”

“Not even when I was stealing trash?”

“Thought you were a fuckin nuisance, not helpless.” He playfully nudges his shoulder with his toes.

Indrid turns his head and nips his calf, “How’s that for a nuisance?”

“Not much, felt kinda nice. Uh, I mean, uh, fuck, so, where’d that worry about my stayin come from?”

The mer crawls and wiggles until they’re shoulder to shoulder, “I think my future sight is finally developing; my fathers arrived around the time he turned eighteen, so it makes sense mine would arrive at a similar point. The trouble is, I am having a hard time telling the futures from my own imaginings and worries.”

“That fuckin sucks.”

“I’ll manage. All seers struggle at the beginning. I just wish I was quicker at learning whether certain timelines are really more likely or if they are just ones that I want to be likely.”

“Like what?”

Indrid glances at him, opens his mouth, then shuts it and faces the sea.

Duck smirks, “‘Drid, there somethin you wanna ask me?”

“No. Yes. Maybe? I, I just don’t want to pressure youOOOHhhh that’s not fair” he flops on his back with a groan as Duck scritches his upper tail, “you know I’ll do anything when you touch me like this.”

“Damn right I do. And what I want is for you to tell me the truth.”

Indrid whines, covers his face with his hands.

“Do it or I’ll stop.”

“Rude” Indrid lowers his hands enough that his red eyes peer over the top, “is that any way to treat a mer who wants to kiss you?”

Duck gives his answer by pouncing on his friend, pinning narrow shoulders into the sand as he devours his mouth in kisses.

“You like that treatment better?”

“Goodness, yes.” Indrid pulls him back down, slipping his tongue between his lips and nibbling his neck when he finally stops to breathe. Then his hand flails sideways, grabbing the plastic bag and chucking it further up the beach.

“The, the tide is coming in and I, ah, foresee us working up quite the appetite.” He tugs Duck’s collar down with his teeth, nuzzling and licking across his skin with little hums of pleasure, “so I want to save those for afterwards. Who knows” he grins, “maybe we’ll need energy for round two as well.”

Duck cups his cheek, inhales the scent of the sea and the sight of his future, “I like the way you think, sweet thing.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills

18 notes · View notes

shhhlikeme · 4 years

Note

Hello luv! Can I request headcannons for daichi, kuroo, and the Miya twins (if this is too many you can just write kuroo & daichi) with a crush who has never been in a relationship before or done like anything slightly romantic or sexual & they r just kinda more enamoured with her bc of it🥺(if you’re comfortable with it maybe adding that they just kinda wanna *ehEm* ruin her innocence now😳) Thanks for reading this request🥺

Kuroo | Daichi | w. An Innocent & Inexperienced Friend That He Wants To Sexually Destroy (Slight NSFW)

A/N: I love this req!!!!! I’m taking the liberty of combining this request with this one because they are very similar! I’m definitely comfortable with nsfw so request it to your hearts content :) just see my rules first and you’re golden. I want some smutty/teasing/sexy requests!!! Also I only wrote for Daichi and Kuroo because they are long. If you both still want the Miya twins & Sugawara just request again when my requests are open :)

Daichi Sawamura

Dadchi’s dream girl would be one he can show the ropes to

He loves feeling needed and in charge of situations

It’s his love language

He loves when people look up to him and need his guidance and advice

That’s why he’s a cop now lmao (I won’t even say anything)

Yours and Daichi’s entire friendship consisted of him doing anything to help you: fix your sink leaks, spot your squats, massage your hair, pick you up so you wouldn’t have to step in a puddle, the whole nine yards

His best friends Suga and Asahi were convinced he was literally infatuated and enamoured with you, and he kind of was

So even though you were Daichi’s best friend and he had a big “little” crush on you since he hit puberty ..... it skyrocketed when you asked him for sexual advice and tips to prepare before getting out there in the dating world

You had no ulterior motive, you didn’t even know that you could get attached. You’d never done a single thing with a guy before so you didn’t know and wanted to be prepared

so you decided to ask your best friend

Daichi said no.

But not because he didn’t want to help

It’s Because he wanted to show you everything, not just tell you

And if he showed you, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from wanting to show you again and again again.

You were too good-looking, too nice, and you resembled his inexistent dream girl too much. How would he be able to resist?

And he damn sure didn’t want you going out in the dating world. Fuck that.

So maybe him saying no will stall you a little

Hopefully, for a lot

It didn’t. Instead, you just searched videos and articles on the subject around him.

You knew your best friend Daichi was a control freak and if he heard or read any information over your shoulder that he deemed wrong, then he’d have to tell you instead, just to feel in charge

So, One day....

You two were home alone in his apartment

You were watching a “how-to-kiss” video on your laptop

Your laptop was on his kitchen island and you were lazily leaning over to watch, putting all your weight on your elbows

You were lazily picking away at a bowl of strawberries as the YouTube video playing detailed the best ways to practice kissing... one being eating strawberries very slowly

It would help in pursing your lips, controlling the wetness and opening and closing your mouth for a kiss

Daichi had been studying for a test in the next room, not knowing what you were doing until his stomach started grumbling aggressively

He sighed, getting up to walk down the hall to satisfy his craving

While you leaned on the counter you were unintentionally sticking your ass out in Daichi’s direction as he made his way to the kitchen.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from groaning at the sight of you

You were too innocent to know that those booty shorts you wore were basically lethal weapons of mass destruction

If ‘destruction’ meant giving Daichi a boner

Whoever gets to see Y/N’s ass naked for the first time will be sooo lucky, he thought to himself

Deciding not to taunt himself more, He walked past you and started searching the fridge for food

He could hear the silly instructions of your video now.... a ridiculous video about teaching someone how to kiss and he laughed quietly to himself

What a stupid video, he thought to himself before finding a sandwich in the fridge

He closed the fridge door, already opening his mouth to make fun of you when he was struck by the amazing image before him

He stood there slack-jawed as your eyes were glued to your screen—so concentrated that you didn’t even notice him watching you

Daichi could swear he was seeing in slow motion when you picked up another strawberry with your manicured hands and placed the sweet fruit between your red lips. You pressed your lips down around it and sucked out the juice that dripped out, refusing you let a single drop hit the island just like the video said. You slowly bit down on the strawberry, using only your lips and not your teeth. When you got halfway, you repeated the motion again and again to finish the strawberry as closely to replicating a real kiss’s repetitive movements as you can.

Watching this, Daichi dropped his sandwich

He thought the absurdity of you learning how to kiss by using of a fucking strawberry was the most innocent and sexy thing he’s ever seen in his life.

And the man was hard

Why are you doing this to him even though you have no idea that you’re doing this to him?????

The poor boy

He wanted to be the strawberry.

’Daichi The Strawberry’ headass

He stood there watching you sexily devour about 3 strawberries before our poor Dadchi couldn’t take it anymore

“Y/N.”

You looked up at him with a strawberry still in your mouth. “Hm?” You didn’t know why his eyes appeared so dark all of a sudden. Shouldn’t he be studying?

Daichi groaned because your eyes had such sinless, pure intent behind them. The curiosity in your eyes would be the death of him and he knew it. Because you needed him to show you how it’s done. Even though you looked like an amazing kisser when you did that to strawberries Daichi’s eyes, however, showed the opposite of purity, even though you couldn’t read them. He thought it was almost unfair how badly he wanted to bend you over and pound into you from behind while he rubbed that same strawberry in your mouth around your pert nipples. Fu-uck.

“Hm?” You repeated, wondering why he’s acting so strange.

Taking a deep breath, Daichi stepped over his fallen sandwhich and shut your laptop closed.

“No more videos. I changed my mind. I’ll teach you how to....kiss.”

Surprised, you smiled widely at him and celebrated. You closed the distance between you two.

“Really? Yay! Thank you, Daichi! Will you be teaching me how to do the other stuff, too? I want to learn before I start dating—“

Daichi groaned, closing his eyes. You just tilted your head, perplexed. You had no idea that the thought of you potentially wanting him to teach you how to touch him, how to touch yourself, how to sink down on his ready cock—was killing him. But it was the end of your last phrase that troubled him more.

“No. Dating.” Daichi ordered sternly. The assertion in his voice almost frightening.

“But—“ Sawamura interrupted you by grabbing the nape of your neck and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you incredibly softly, taking your breath away before forcing his strong tongue in your mouth and claiming your tongue by sucking on it. It felt so good! You moaned loudly. His kiss became the greatest thing you’ve ever felt in your life but just when you were about to really get into it, Daichi pulled away. You whimpered at the loss.

“No. Dating. Other. Guys.” He repeated and you nodded automatically. If he kept kissing you like that you didn’t want any other guys. Panting, you wrapped your fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer trying to get more. You needed more, but Daichi wasn’t letting you.

“Okay.” You stated between wanton pants. “No other guys.”

Daichi smiled inside before leaning down again, rewarding you with another deep kiss.

Kuroo Tetsurō

“Kuroo, could you stop taking pictures of me?!”

Kuroo smiled down at his phone, quickly hiding it out of sight from you. “I can’t. You just look so cute right now.” He scrolled.

You rolled your eyes at your friend who managed to somehow look good in his gear. You were currently wearing an oversized jumpsuit that had so much extra material the sleeves almost skimmed the floor. Your red goggles and silly helmet almost fit, though.

You were gearing up to go indoor skydiving with your friends including Kuroo, and you two were waiting alone in a tiny windowless room before entry, waiting for Kenma and Hinata who went before you to finish their turn.

“If you post those anywhere I will kill you. What is wrong with these people anyway? I didn’t say extra large.”

“Maybe they just knew you’d look extra cute, Y/N.” he gushed at you semi-jokingly. His expression reminded you of how sweet old ladies looked at newborns in the supermarket.

“I can’t go out like this, I need another jumpsuit. I can probably fit in Kenma’s or Hinata’s.”

“Awwwwww.” Kuroo smiled brightly.

You wanted to knee him in the balls.

“What’s ‘awww?’”

“You probably didn’t specify your size properly because it’s your first time. You’re just so innocent! You’ve never done anything before and I just love seeing your mistakes and reactions to all this new stuff.” He pulled up his bucket list that he made in your honour on his phone. “I mean, you’ve never rode a bike, swam in the ocean, or gone to a party?!”

You sighed. “I had really strict parents growing up, not my fault.” You swung your hand up to point at Kuroo’s bucketlist to say something, but you forgot your hand was lost and had been swallowed by the sea of material in this XXL jumpsuit. You looked like a baby octopus with broken tentacles.

Kuroo bursted out laughing, literally falling over by how hilarious you looked. “So....cute!” He barked between stomach-aching laughter. Tears sprang at the corner of his eyes. “You....look....so.....sm-small.!” He was laughing so hard that he couldn’t even breathe. He forced himself to catch his breath but when you tried to cross your arms in resilience, the long sleeves got bunched up and disallowed you to. Kuroo fell right back into a deeper fit of laughter.

imagine ku-baby’s hyena laugh in IMAX

That’s now

He literally might as well have been on laughing gas, he couldn’t stop

Red and exasperated, you shouted: “Screw you Kuroo!” And stomped your foot. Kuroo literally thought you were the cutest, most innocent thing in the world and he just wanted to keep you in his pocket forever. You are adorably funny and you made him happy. Only, he couldn’t tell you that now because he couldn’t stop laughing.

Having enough, you huffed. “I’m taking this off and getting a new one.”

Without another word, you took a second to find your actual hand under all of that sleeve and used it to zip down the giant zipper on your front. When it was far enough down you slipped your top half out of the suit before realizing that the zipper was stuck. You’d be fine, you just had to remove it in parts. Pulling down the zipper trying not to break it, you pushed the jumpsuit material down past your torso next. Returning to the zipper, you used enough force to slip it down even further so it reached your hips. You tugged it down your hips, jumping to do so, and finally you were able to step out and be free.

Stupid jumpsuit! You thought as you picked it up and threw it at the windowless wall. You never wanted to see it again.

You turned back to Kuroo, expecting to see him now laughing at you for throwing the jumpsuit in the midst your mini tantrum, but instead you find him in the same position on the floor, a deep blush coating his cheeks. You could have sworn you saw a bit of blood trickling from his nose, too.

Why, you ask?

Well, maybe because:

Kuroo found himself completely unable to continue laughing at your cuteness when you were wearing a sports bra that was a size too small for you and mini spandex shorts that were also too small, under that jumpsuit.

He was drooling

It didn’t help that it took you a while to get out of the material too, because the movements of your tugging and jumping meant that your boobs were bouncing in that small bra.

It also meant that when you attempted to take off the bottom part of the suit you bent over and the side-view of your ass and legs looked absolutely delectable to him

You went from ‘Pebbles Flinstone’ to ‘Betty Boop’ REAL quick

His change in emotions toward you switched so fast that his head spun

How could he even call you cute when you were actually soooo fucking hot?

He wished it was just as appropriate to snap a picture of you dressed like this

He could really use it to help him ....uh.....de-stress..at home

You removed your goggles from the top of your head and then your helmet.

Kuroo was met with the full picture of your mouth-watering shape in action as you threw the suit across the small room

‘Damn Y/N is a baddie, especially in action’, he thought dumbly

He was suddenly beyond grateful that his jumpsuit was so loose around his groin area.

Tetsurō checked you out unashamedly, wondering how he’d ever be able to go back to seeing you as the small, innocent and adorable new friend that he saw you as when you two first stepped into this indoor skydiving facility

He realized now that: Innocent? You were. Adorable? You were not.

At least not now.

You were going to definitely be the new star of his fantasies when he’s in the shower pumping his hard and leaking member ...... and that new star could never be described as ‘adorable’

“What’s with you?” You asked Kuroo, only 10 seconds gone by since you threw the jumpsuit. “Lost your stupid laughing-stock material because I took that off, Kuroo? Anyway, they’re done so I’m going to grab Hinata’s suit and goggles. Be back in a sec.”

When you left the room, Kuroo let out a big sigh. He wiped a hand across his face, finally getting up off the floor.

“Sexy. As. Hell,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head and staring at the floor. He couldn’t stop thinking about adding “ride Kuroo’s dick” onto the bucket list he made for you.

Just then, you poked your head back in the room, startling Kuroo.

“Oh, before I go.... your nose is bleeding.” Said Y/N with a slight glint in the eye. You used the tissue you had retrieved to blot the sweat off your cheekbones, neck, and top of your cleavage. Kuroo froze. You then tossed him the pack of tissues you’d taken, a teasing smirk gracing your lips.

“Wouldn’t want that getting on your suit, so that you’d have to take it off too.” You winked and left him in the room alone again.

Kuroo shook his head rapidly, adjusting his suit in a futile attempt to make himself less hard. He was dealing with a menace. An innocent girl who knew how to flirt. A HOT innocent girl that knew how to flirt. It was every man’s nightmare and dream.

I shouldn’t have laughed at her, Kuroo thought agonizingly.

Now I’m definitely in for it.

#haikyu requests #sawamura daichi #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x y/n #daichi x reader #dadchi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu boys #haikyuu scenarios #daichi x you #daichi x y/n

271 notes · View notes

lu-undy · 4 years

Text

Valentine’s day 5 - Alternate Universe

My choice went to have Lucien be a baker in Paris while Mundy is visiting the city with his parents!

Here it is on AO3!

"Micky, please tell your mum I'm starvin'."

"Mum, Dad's starvin'." Mundy's head swung from left to right.

"Micky, tell your Dad that I'm done with this cathedral now and we can get some lunch."

Both father and son cheered as they exited the impressive Cathédrale Montmartre.

It had been a few days now that the Turner family had travelled from their native Australia to Paris, France. After years of saving, the farmers and the hunter managed to gather the amount they needed to take some very well earned holidays and see a part of the world that Caroline, the mother, had always dreamt of visiting.

And it was Mundy, the son, now close to forty years old, who had suggested the idea of the trip. In his line of work, travelling was usual and he had seen a few places, and a lot of species already. He knew that his mother had always dreamt of seeing the City of Lights and so, he pushed for the idea to become a reality.

At first his parents thought it was way out of what they could afford not only financially, but physically. They were getting close to their seventies! But Mundy insisted and told the tale of a lot of his patrons who were that age and older, yet still roaming the world.

Caroline and Mike, mother and father, eventually accepted the idea, and Mundy worked extra shifts in pubs, playing the saxophone in some bands here and there, to add a few notes in the piggy bank.

There they were now, the three of them, in the capital of romance. The cathedral they had just visited was on the top of a hill from which they could see the entire city of Paris splayed out and spread in le Bassin Parisien, the valley in which the capital was planted. It was easy to distinguish the business district with its towers of black and blue-ish glass, from the more residential or commercial areas. The Eiffel tower obviously pointed to the sky further away.

Mundy had turned out to be the official photographer for the trip. He just enjoyed seeing the delight on his parents' faces and took pictures of them doing absolutely anything. They had never travelled much and he wanted them to have physical memories of it. On some pictures, they were pointing at a monument, on these ones, they were trying to decipher the names of the streets with a map wide open under their eyes, or just sitting on a bench and enjoying a cone of ice cream. Yes, it was July and peak summer in France, which was quite a surprise for the Aussies, but a welcome one. They all preferred hot and sunny weather, and were used to it.

"Let's try this bakery maybe?"

Caroline pointed at a reasonably small shop. The front of it was Burgundy red with the name shining in golden letters.

"Chez Lucien".

[Lucien's.]

Mundy pushed the door and let his parents through. The jingle of a bell rang and immediately after, a wave of delicious smells washed their lungs and made their mouths water even more.

"Bonjour." The baker greeted them. "Que puis-je faire pour vous?"

[What can I do for you?]

"Bonjour." Mundy tried his best accent. "Do you speak English?"

"Oui, I do." The Turner family sighed in relief. They were now used to communicating in sign language but finding someone who could understand even a bit of English was just their luck. "How may I help you?" The baker answered with more than a hint of a French accent.

"Just give us a second, son. I mean look at all these good things, the smell's amazin'!" Mike said, his eyes running through the sandwiches, the quiches and pastries.

"Merci. Will it be to eat here?”

“Yeah, think so.” Mike answered.

“In that case, you may make yourselves comfortable at a table.” The baker suggested.

Mundy noticed there were only two tables inside and one on the pavement. They relieved themselves of their backpacks and came back in front of the glass.

“Do take your time and don't hesitate to ask me if you need me to explain anything."

"Thanks, mate." Mundy answered.

Caroline held Mike's arm dearly as they chatted and pointed at sandwiches here and there behind the glass. Mundy gave them a bit of space and had a look at the desserts.

The colours beckoned his eyes. Red strawberries, all the shades of brown chocolate, white sugar, green pistachio, orange apricot tarts, yellow lemon ones. And the textures looked very different too. Mundy wished he could try a few.

And what a powerful yet pleasant mix of smells. The smell of hot flour was drowning Mundy entirely. As he raised his eyes and looked behind the baker, bread of different shapes, sizes and colours were neatly arranged in wicker baskets. It was impressive.

"What's this one, son?" Mike asked, pointing at a sandwich.

"This has goat cheese, salad, and a drop of mustard with honey." The man in the white apron answered, and Mike and Caroline nodded. "Do you have any dietary requirements maybe? That might help you make the choice easier."

"Mike here has to watch out for sugar and cholesterol." Caroline said.

"Bah, I'm fine." Mike answered.

"Mike, the doctor said to watch out…! Micky, tell your Dad…!"

"Dad…" Mundy started.

"C'mon son, don't side with your mum! Men's solidarity!"

The baker smiled.

"I can recommend a classic French one, if you want a full French experience." He suggested.

"Sure!" Mike answered. "We haven't come all the way from home to stop at sugar and cholesterol!"

"In that case, I would suggest the classic jambon-beurre."

"John what?" Mike repeated.

"Jambon-beurre." The baker said. "Ham and butter. Now, I can make one with a light butter and lean ham for you."

"That sounds great, what d'you say Caroline?" Mike looked at his wife. "Can I get that?"

"My father himself used to have those when his diet became more strict." The baker explained.

"Oh that's very kind of you." Caroline said. "Sure, go for that. I will have the goat cheese and honey one, I never tried that combination of flavours."

"Very well."

Mundy had been watching the whole scene unravel before his eyes and was grinning. He was over the moon to see his parents so relaxed and enjoying their time. They had worked hard all their lives to provide for their only son and had rarely taken a holiday as significant as this.

"And you, Micky?"

"Huh?"

Caroline's voice had broken her son's daydream.

"Oh, uh, I'll get the ham and butter, the normal kind is fine for me."

"Very well, give me an instant." The baker gathered his ingredients and a bread knife. He prepared the sandwich in front of his hungry clients as they watched him.

Mundy found himself staring. The baker was a bit shorter than him by half a foot or so. He looked a bit older too. His temples were grey and his front tuft, which swung between his eyes as he cut the bread, was greying too. However, his eyes shone with a kind of vivacity, of life, that Mundy found made him younger than himself maybe. He had very light blue eyes with dark eyelashes - beautiful - a slightly hooked nose and thin lips. His hands were trained and used to his work as his efficiency showed, but Mundy guessed that he hadn't been a baker all his life. His fingers were too slim to have done manual work all their lives like his parents'.

"I guess you are visiting France for the first time?"

"Yeah, first time out of home since a long time, son." Mike answered.

"Where are you from, if I may?"

"Australia."

"Ooh, that is indeed a long way from home." The baker chuckled and Mundy saw a flash of his pearly white teeth.

"Yeah, the wife's always wanted to come and see it here, y'know, with it bein' the city of romance and all…" Mike explained and he held his wife's hand dearly.

"But of course." The baker placed the sandwiches on a tray. "Will that be all for you today?"

"Micky, ask your mum if we can get desserts."

"You could ask me directly." Caroline answered.

"Yeah but you'd say no to me, honey."

Caroline rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Fine, let us have a look at what you have, uh…?" Caroline adjusted her glasses, looking for a badge or anything to address the shop owner. His name was sewn on his apron, in black, cursive letters. "Lu…?"

"Lucien."

"Ooh, original name. Sounds very French, beautiful!" Caroline said.

"Thank you, Madame." Lucien bowed his head politely. "May I suggest the strawberry tart for Monsieur? It is mostly fruity and the dough has very little sugar. My most faithful customers do like it particularly."

"Yeah, looks very good." Mike said enthusiastically.

"I'll have one of these, uh…" Caroline pointed at the glass.

"Oh, éclair au chocolat. Do you know what éclair means in French?" Lucien asked.

"No?"

"It is a lightning bolt. As a child, my mother used to make me believe that they were called that way because of how fast I devoured them."

"Ooh, that is sweet…!"

Lucien put the mini tart and the éclair on the tray.

"And for you, Monsieur?" He turned to Mundy, who blushed under the piercing gaze.

"Oh, uh, I mean… Maybe one of these…?"

"Cannelé, they are called, because of their shape. They are typical from the South-West of France, where I come from. Have you ever tried them?"

"No, why?"

Lucien smiled.

"They are rarely a tourist's choice." He simply answered. "Here for you. I recommend enjoying those desserts with some coffee. Pray take a seat, I shall bring you your tray."

"Oh, thank you, dear." Caroline said and the Turner family sat around the table. Lucien closely followed. He added a jug of fresh water and glasses.

"Enjoy your meal, or as we say here, bon appétit." Lucien bowed his head and left his customers to enjoy their meal.

"Mum? Dad?" Mundy was holding the camera and took a picture when they both bit in their sandwiches. "There we go."

The Turners enjoyed their sandwiches and the fresh water. After all, it was summer and it was hot. Caroline reminded Mike to take his pills as usual and Mundy was sitting next to them. He loved his parents more than anything or anyone else and in truth, they were all he had. He had a few friends back in Oz, not a lot, but good ones.

"Son?" Mike's whisper pulled Mundy out of his daydream.

"Hm?"

"Can you please tell your mum to stop starin' at the baker like that."

"If I was a few decades younger…" Caroline whispered.

"Yeah, well, if you were a few decades younger, you'd remember that ring on your finger maybe, eh?" Mike teased.

"Mum, please… You're makin' it obvious…" Mundy nudged his mother's elbow gently.

Lucien was behind the counter, leaning on the wall on his side and reading a newspaper.

"C'mon, Micky, tell your Dad that he's handsome!" Caroline nudged her son back.

"Mum…!" He blushed.

"Yeah well, go and have sandwiches with him, then!" Mike answered.

"Oh I would!"

"Caroline!"

"Mike!"

"Mum, Dad, please…!"

"Nah, son, I've seen her stare at enough guys here. Since the moment we landed here and now, her eyes jumped from bloke to bloke like a bee from flower to flower!"

"Not my fault that they all look so charming! And I didn't say anything when you stared at that young sheila in the short skirt in the cathedral…!"

"Well…" Mike blushed, ashamed. "I'm a simple man…!"

"Besides, I'm not the only one who's starin', Mike."

"Hm?"

Caroline nodded in direction of Mundy, for whom the whispers of his parents had dissolved in the air. He had eyes and ears only for that baker. God, his mother was right, he was handsome!

Caroline was right on that people there in France were quite good looking and it made the journey all the more pleasant to the eye.

"Micky?" Mike's voice pulled Mundy out of his staring.

"Huh?"

"Well, I can't tell you to stop cause you got a ring on your finger but uh… make it a bit more, y'know, discreet…?"

Mundy blushed beyond his ears and lowered his head.

And that was the first encounter with Lucien, the baker. From that day on, the Turners would try to have their lunch there everyday. Caroline was the one to push for it. Not only did Lucien turn out to be an incredible guide for them, recommending good and inexpensive restaurants as well as little corners of paradise within Paris, but she could see the blush on Mundy's cheeks whenever Lucien talked to him.

In the evenings, Mundy would take a stroll outside, to give his parents some space. He would walk in the streets of the city, under the lamp posts, letting his feet decide where he should go. More often than once, he found himself not far from the bakery. On one occasion, Lucien was smoking outside of his bakery, as the sky was still bright. Mundy was paralysed with fear. He wasn't supposed to be standing there! He was supposed to be in his shop, and then Mundy could casually look through the window as he passed it, maybe even wave if he made eye contact with him. Yeah, that all made sense, but not Lucien being outside and-!

"Bonsoir, Mundy, wasn't it?"

[Good evening]

Mundy's blood froze. As he was panicking internally, his feet had continued walking until he was within a few feet from the baker.

"Y-yeah, hi."

"Do you smoke?" Lucien asked.

"Yeah, I mean, sometimes."

"Here." Lucien offered one of his cigarettes and Mundy accepted it.

"Thanks, mate."

"Come closer."

Mundy blushed when Lucien closed the gap between them and lit his cigarette up. He closed his eyes and all he could feel was the smell of the Frenchman's cologne, mixed with pastries and fresh bread.

Gosh… He thought as he felt his insides melt.

"Voilà." Lucien chimed as he put his lighter away. Mundy opened his eyes and he felt as if he had emerged from a dream to another one. Now, the ice blue eyes of the elegant man were on him.

"Y-yeah, thanks, heh."

"You like to walk at night?" Lucien asked as they both exhaled the bitter smoke.

"Yeah, it's nice and calm."

"And I guess it is your break from your photography duties?" The Frenchman chuckled.

"What?"

"You are the one carrying the camera all the time, and taking pictures of your parents. Do you have any of you?"

"Uh, yeah, we do have a few of all three of us together."

"I would be delighted to take more in my shop next time you have lunch here."

"Ah, thanks."

They stayed in front of the shop and smoked in silence, watching the few people in the streets come and go.

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"I will soon close the shop. Would you like anything?"

"Oh, uh, no, I'm fine, thanks."

"Very well." Lucien put the cigarette between his lips and entered the bakery. Mundy wasn't sure he could or should follow him so he stayed on the threshold. He watched as Lucien disappeared through a door behind the counter. Soon after, the lights switched off in the shop and Lucien emerged. Mundy couldn't see him clearly in the dark but his silhouette stood out.

"Very well. This is it for today." He said as he came out and locked the shop. "I could do with some good coffee, would you like to join me, perhaps? I know a quiet café." Lucien turned to Mundy who was staring at him. "Mundy?".

He had never seen the baker outside of his natural habitat and a bit like a schoolboy who couldn't imagine his teacher living outside of school, Mundy was taken aback. It turned out that underneath the apron was a white polo shirt and now a beige linen jacket, with a matching hat and trousers.

"U-uh? Yeah? Sorry, you said somethin'?"

"You daydream a lot, hm?" Lucien chuckled.

"Sorry…" Mundy looked away and felt the heat of the embarrassment on his cheeks.

"It is alright, I do like to daydream too." He smiled as Mundy raised his eyes to him and the Aussie immediately averted his eyes. Oof, that grin…! "But you haven't answered my invitation."

"Y-your invitation?"

"Oui, coffee, with me?"

"You sure? I mean, I guess you're tired after work and maybe you want to go back home to your family or see your mates…?"

"I don't have one or the other." Mundy's eyebrows jumped. "You and your parents are the closest I have got to having friends for a long time. So, what do you say? Un café avec moi?"

[A coffee with me?]

"Oh, uh, alright. I mean uh, oui?"

Lucien smiled.

"Très bien, follow me."

[Very well]

The Frenchman led the way through the streets.

"So you left Maman and Papa at the hotel?"

"Uh, yeah. I try to give them some space. Mum's always dreamt to come here with Dad."

"Not with you?" Lucien asked.

"No, I didn't want it to sound so bad… I mean that she'd wanted to come here even before they found me."

"They… found you?" Lucien repeated as they took a turn.

"Oh Gosh, I can't keep my mouth shut…" Mundy mumbled to himself. "Sorry, mate, I-I meant… Ugh… Nevermind."

Lucien didn't insist.

"Here is the café." He pulled the front door and held it open for his tourist friend.

"Oh, thanks."

And it lasted for a couple of weeks, the nights out, sometimes in a café, sometimes just a tour of a neighbourhood with an incredibly patient and passionate guide.

"You like Paris quite a bit, eh?" Mundy asked under the dark blue sky lit by the Eiffel Tower. Lucien had taken him to the Champs de Mars, an open park just in front of the beautifully lit, iconic tower. They were both sitting on the grass.

"Believe it or not, I do not like it much."

"Really?"

"Oui."

"You know it well though, historical stuff and all."

There was a slight smile on the Frenchman's lips.

"Oui, unfortunately so, for some part of it. Non, what I have come to appreciate about this city recently is how you like it."

"What?" Mundy asked, embarrassed and confused. Lucien chuckled.

"You enjoy visiting Paris."

"Well, there's a lot of monuments to see, lots of history behind it, and it's a proper city. The Outback's very different."

"Tell me about it."

They exchanged a glance and Mundy's throat tightened. He could see all the lights on the Eiffel Tower shimmer on the Frenchman's eyes, like stars in a clear blue sky.

"Well… Uh…" Mundy looked left and right. "See everythin' around us?"

"Oui?"

"Imagine there's nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah, and imagine there's no grass but just orange dust."

"Hm…" Lucien looked keenly around him.

"Now add a few cacti, not too many, eh? And boulders. Just big rocks, basically."

"What shapes are they?"

"Any weird shape you can imagine. They're a bit like clouds, if you stare at them, you start seeing that they look like stuff but they don't really…"

"Oh… And what shapes have you seen?"

Mundy looked at Lucien sitting next to him. He had removed his hat and jacket. His polo shirt was white with dark blue stripes and he wore matching dark blue chinos trousers with beige loafers. Elegant, he was just so elegant…! What's more, he was lying on his side on the grass, resting part of his weight on his forearm, with one leg folded. Gosh…

"Uh… I usually see animals."

"What kind?"

"Sometimes, it's a gigantic wallaby, or a koala. But sometimes, it's stuff that doesn't even exist."

"Hm, like what?"

Like you, Mundy thought. No one had taken the time to go out with him, take the time to know him, go to cafés and odd little bistrots with him. No one had ever listened to his life in the Outback, no one had ever asked. And certainly, no one had done all that and looked half as gorgeous as Lucien. It was to the point where Mundy struggled to maintain eye contact with him for long. He would sometimes cross Lucien's eyes and avert his gaze the split second after. His feline, light blue irises were too much to take, especially because each time Lucien graced him with a gaze, Mundy could feel a punch to his guts and the blood rush to his cheeks.

"I-I don't know, it's a bit silly…" He answered, blushing and looking down between his crossed legs.

"Mundy…"

He froze when he felt a finger under his chin, pulling it up.

"Huh?"

"Please, tell me."

Gosh, not those eyes…! Oh and fuck it… Mundy couldn't refuse or ignore anything to those ice blue irises.

"Sometimes it's a mix of animals… Like something with the head of an owl, the body of a falcon, but legs like a wild cat. I know, it's ridiculous, ahem…"

"Non, not at all." Lucien answered and maybe it was all in Mundy's head, but he felt the Frenchman's index linger on his chin a bit before parting. The Aussie's jaw was electrified. "I find it poetic."

"D-do you?" Mundy's surprise was so obvious, so naive that it made Lucien grin sweetly. The Aussie uncrossed his legs and let them flow in front of him.

"Oui." Lucien laid down and rested his head on Mundy's thigh.

"Huh-?" Mundy gasped.

"Oh, am I weighing too much on you?"

"N-no, it's fine. I'm just-I'm just surprised, is all." The truth was that Mundy felt the heat in him surge as unexpectedly as Lucien lay on him. Was he just tired of holding his head on his palm? Was it friendly? Was it more? Was it a French thing?

"Hm. Look around you." Lucien said and Mundy did as he was told. It was the dead of night and not many people were out. "The city is almost empty. The Paris of the night is waking up and claiming the streets now."

"The Paris of the night?" Mundy repeated.

"Oui, people who shun the naked light of day because society shunned them first. Those are people whom morality and customs do not understand yet, people who are too free."

"What d'you mean?"

"Look at the pavement there." Lucien pointed and Mundy saw a few women wearing short skirts.

"Yeah?"

"Do you see these women?"

"Yeah."

"They are not women."

"What?"

"They are not women in what is most commonly accepted as the definition for it. They need the cover of the night to exist as they want to. I find it tragic yet strongly inspiring." Lucien went on. "They need the blanket of the dark night sky to wear the dresses, skirts and make-up that they want. We are not too different from them, you and me."

"How? You wanna wear a dress now?" Mundy joked and Lucien chuckled, his head still using the Aussie's thigh as a pillow.

"Non, we too are taking advantage of the night to be what the light of day prevents us from being."

Mundy's heart pounded in his chest. He was afraid he was understanding what Lucien meant, or maybe he wasn't at all and he was just hearing what the thin voice at the back of his head was whispering.

"Huh?"

"May I?"

Mundy sweated. Lucien had taken his fingers in his.

"Y-yeah, I think."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to force you - oh?" Lucien's eyebrows jumped and he then relaxed when Mundy pushed his trembling fingers shyly between his. Lucien held on to his hand dearly. "Mundy?"

"Mh?" The Aussie was screwing his eyes shut hard and was trying to calm his pounding heart and the rush of blood through his body.

"Merci."

[Thank you.]

His eyes snapped wide.

"What?"

"I said thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything."

And that night, they stayed on the Champs de Mars all the way up until the sun showed its first rays of light. At that point, they were both lying on their backs. The wide lawn was their mattress and the early hours of the new day captured the murmurs of what no one else but them should know.

It lasted for weeks, enough to make a habit out of it and to make Mundy think that it could last forever. Unfortunately enough, the holidays were coming to an end and Australia was calling the Turners back.

"You're not going out tonight? You should take a walk, Micky."

In their hotel room, Caroline and Mike were talking to Mundy.

"Your Mum's right, son. You could do with some fresh air."

"We spent our day outside. I'm tired."

Mike and Caroline exchanged a glance and went to the bathroom.

"I'm tellin' you, Mike, we have to push him out." She whispered to her husband. "He's as sad he could be."

"Yeah, I know, I know… But you're absolutely sure it will do him good?"

"Mike, I'm a sheila. We feel those things. Look at him…"

Caroline held the bathroom door ajar and Mike peeked through the slim opening.

"Doesn't he remind you of someone?" She asked.

"Hm. Yeah, course he does. Look at him lyin' on his bed, starin' at the ceiling. His body is here, his heart is elsewhere. He's exactly like me when I first met you, honey." Mike sighed. "Right, I'll get him out of this room. But you gotta help me."

"Ok, what's the plan?" Caroline asked excitedly.

"Follow me."

Mike took his wife by the hand and they exited the bathroom.

"Uh, Caroline, darl', d'you mind waitin' in the bathroom. This is guys' only talk."

"Fine."

Mike went to sit on Mundy's bed, next to him.

"Look, son. Uh… Your mum and I… Uh… We could do with a couple of hours alone if you… uh… If that's ok with you…?"

Mundy's eyes snapped wide and he sat up, looking his father in the eye and blushing. Mike was averting his gaze from his son, a bit ashamed.

"Oh…" Mundy answered. "Right, fine, I'll uh… I'll go have a walk. I'll be back in a couple hours then. Sorry."

"Good boy, no, no, don't apologise, it's fine." Mike said as Mundy put on his shoes and hat. "Take a bit of money with you and stay safe, eh?"

"Will do. Thanks, Dad."

"No, thank you, son."

Mundy exited the hotel and soon found himself in the streets. The sun was gently setting and the sky was orange with a few streaks of pink. The next day would again be very sunny.

Mundy didn't see it. His eyes were riveted on his shoes, his hands in his pockets, and his back hunched. He was in his own bubble and wanted to stay there, have some time alone to think.

About what? The obvious, of course. He was about to leave Paris, to leave France, to leave Europe, the Northern Hemisphere. He was about to leave Lucien and hadn't told him the dreadful news yet. Why? Because he didn't know how to tell him, especially now…!

Mundy sighed as he recalled the events of the previous night. They were on the quays of the Seine, the river that slithers through Paris.

"You can see almost everything from this river, eh?" Mundy realised.

"Oui, most monuments and important buildings you can see from here."

"Impressive… Oh…"

Lucien had slid his arm around Mundy's and his hand glided down until his fingers laced between the Aussie's. Mundy clenched his hand. He liked it way too much. Oh, hold on, maybe it was too much? He could feel his hand sweating…!

"S-sorry…" He pulled his hand off and wiped it nervously on his trousers.

"There is no problem." Lucien took Mundy's hand again. He pulled it up to his lips and kissed it.

"W-woah… Uhm…"

Lucien chuckled.

"You are such a delightful hint of the exotism I used to love…"

"What's that mean?"

They stopped walking along the river banks. Lucien went to the edge and looked at the streamflow for an instant. He removed his loafers elegantly and rolled his trousers' ends up along his calves. Mundy blushed. Contrary to him, Lucien didn't have a tan and being lighter in skin tone than him, he appeared almost snow white compared to Mundy. The Aussie watched as Lucien sat at the edge and let his feet dangle down. They were in the water up to his ankles. Mundy copied him and they were soon sitting side by side, their feet in the river.

Lucien leaned on Mundy's side and took his hand again. He held it dearly between both of his own.

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"You are leaving a strong impression on me."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"Y-you too." He removed his hat and leaned his head on Lucien's.

Silence fell for a while. It was soothing, hearing just the lapping sounds of the cool water licking their feet and their breaths.

"Lucien?"

"Oui?"

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"You just did, and yes you may."

"How come you uh… I mean I don't want it to sound bad but… How come you spend all your nights with me? I mean, don't you have anyone waitin' at home? Family, friends? Even the weekends you spend with me. Y'know, it's ok if you wanted to not see me for a few days, I'd understand."

"I have very few friends. To be truly honest, I have none. The only person waiting for me back home is Perle."

"Oh, who's that? Family?"

"Better than that, she is my cat."

"Oh, you have a kitty?"

"The best in the world."

"What does she look like?" Mundy asked.

"Look here, I have a photograph of her." Lucien took his wallet off of his inner pocket and retrieved a small rectangular picture. It wasn't much bigger than a stamp. He handed it to Mundy.

"Oh, woah… Expensive she must be, eh. Gorgeous, long, snow white fur and light eyes, like you almost - huh, I mean…"

"Oui, she has blue eyes." Lucien simply answered. "You wouldn't know on the black and white picture. And I had no idea she was expensive, even though she is priceless to me."

"You didn't buy her off a shop or someone?"

"Non, I rescued her when she was a kitten, cold, shivering and skinny. Poor baby, she barely had the strength to mewl."

"Oh, woah…" Mundy handed back the picture and as Lucien stored it safely in his wallet again, the Aussie was devouring him with his eyes.

"I raised her as best as I could and we understand each other pretty well. She is my little baby, or as I like to call her, mon petit bébé."

"Uh… I… I mean…" Gosh, words jangled and mixed in his head. He had found a man gorgeous as a God, patient with him, who respected his shyness, didn't take advantage of it, didn't force him to do anything and loved his cat?

"Oui?" Lucien raised his fair eyes to Mundy and that didn't help the Aussie at all. His thoughts were broken, everything broke under those eyes.

"Uh?"

Lucien chuckled.

"It is fine. You don't have to say anything." He leaned his head on Mundy's shoulder and held his hand. "What about you? Do you have any relatives besides your parents?"

"Uh, no. It's just them and me. I got a few uncles and aunts. See them for Christmas with my cousins and their kids. And for the pets, we got a few dogs to keep the beasts away from the hens and geese. Mum has a cat too, Percy, he's black and white, with green eyes."

"What kinds of dogs?"

"An Aussie shepherd and a border collie. Good girls they are. We had a few through the years but dogs don't live as long as we want them to, eh?"

"Indeed."

"How old is your cat? What's her name again?"

"Perle, or for you, Pearl. She is now seven years old."

"Oh, a big girl."

"A wise lady indeed. My only companion since… A long time."

"Fair enough. Haven't had anyone to talk to for years too. I mean, apart from my parents."

"You don't have friends in Australia?"

"I do, yeah, but… Uh… Not like you."

"Well I don't imagine you have bakers who have become part time tourist guides there, hm?" Lucien teased.

"Nah, that's true. But uh, yeah, I mean… We've talked about anythin' for the past few weeks, right?"

"Oh oui, from cacti, to desert, to wild animals, Australian beers, dishes, weather, slang…."

"Yeah, and now I feel like I know Paris almost better than where I come from!" Mundy chuckled.

They looked in each other's eyes.

"We indeed have had conversations about anything with baffling ease."

"Yeah…" Mundy confirmed.

"Merci. It had been ages since I last felt such a pleasant connection with someone."

"Same for me."

Lucien had looked up at Mundy and stared. The Aussie hadn't noticed that the Frenchman's pupils dilated as they sank from his lagoon blue eyes, down his long, straight nose, to his rough, thin lips. Mundy was lost in the ice blue irises and time had stopped. Lucien did half of the work and pulled his neck up. Mundy could smell his perfume and his cigarettes, maybe a lingering faint aroma of hot flour too. But the Aussie had been oblivious and didn't meet the Frenchman half-way.

It had been roughly twenty-fours hours after these events now, and Mundy couldn't have got any of it out of his head. He was stuck there and then, his hand between Lucien's, his head leaning on the Frenchman.

And he found it ridiculous! Dinners in little, hidden bistrots, holding hands on the banks of the river Seine, pulling an all-nighter on the grass under the Eiffel Tower… What the hell had he become?

If his parents knew of it, if his friends knew of it, what would they all think? A holiday romance, nothing much? Pfff…

What hurt Mundy wasn't any of that. It was the fact that he had grown attached to Lucien. For him, it wasn't just a holiday matter, he wanted it to be more. Why? Because where on Earth would he find someone that would treat him so well and with whom he felt that he could share his everything? He felt safe with Lucien. He felt safe in a way that the hunter never thought he would one day experience because what that meant is that he was much more insecure about himself than what he let on…

Most people he knew would describe him as a nice bloke if not very talkative. They assumed he was just like that. But now, Mundy realised that he was just… shy. Part of him even thought that he was afraid. Of what? Of people, constantly watching and judging him.

He didn't like people and preferred animals in that respect. Animals didn't care that you were still mostly living with your parents, driving your father's van around the desert. Animals didn't ask about his job only to fantasise about it, use him for the night and throw him away. Animals didn't think they couldn't build anything with him because of his almost nomad way of life. No, animals cared for him because he cared for them, end of story.

"Bonsoir, Mundy. You took your time tonight, I thought you wouldn't come."

[Good evening, Mundy.]

The voice with the French accent broke Mundy's train of thought abruptly and he winced. He looked down at his feet and gave them an angry glance.

Well thanks for that… He was thinking. While he had been pulling on the thread of his thoughts like a cat on a ball of yarn, his feet had guided Mundy to the bakery.

"Oh, uh, y-yeah, sorry…"

"Are you alright?" Lucien asked, as Mundy still hadn't made eye contact with him.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

The Frenchman could have smelt that it was a lie from a mile away. He nonetheless ignored it and they both walked together along the street.

"What would you like to do tonight?" He asked.

"Don't know. You choose."

"In that case, there is somewhere that we could try." Lucien took Mundy's hand and led the way. He had an idea to cheer up his more-than-friend.

The walk was silent as Lucien decided against insisting. Mundy seemed the type to like silence and solitude well, which the Frenchman respected. He too had his moments where he would rather be alone.

Soon enough, they entered a café. Lucien quickly found a table and they both sat down, opposite each other. A waiter soon came. The Frenchman placed their order while Mundy was still brooding, somewhere between his own mind and nowhere… The waiter placed two mugs on the table and disappeared again.

"Here." Lucien took Mundy's hand and pushed it to the mug gently.

"Huh?" When his fingers registered the heat from both Lucien's hand and the mug, Mundy's eyes snapped wide and he landed back on Earth.

"Drink this."

"What is it?"

"Can't you tell?"

Mundy's sense of smell woke up as he raised the mug closer to his lips.

"Hot chocolate?"

"Oui, but not any kind. Try it."

Mundy did as he was told and took a sip.

"Hm… Very soft but not too sweet."

"As my mother used to do to me whenever I felt low, as a child. I kept the habit of coming here and having one whenever I felt like nothing else could help."

"Mh."

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to me about it, whatever it is?" Lucien asked after Mundy took another sip.

"I… I don't know…"

"Is it your parents? They seemed fine for lunch today."

"No, it's not them. It's me."

Lucien tilted his head on the side and his hand slid on the table until he cupped Mundy's, against the mug.

"Tell me, please."

Mundy sighed.

"I'll be goin' back to Oz. I-I'm gonna leave and… I… I kind of… I don't wanna." He mumbled, his eyes riveted on the hot chocolate. Lucien looked at him distraught.

"I see." He answered. "Do you really wish to stay here?"

"Y-yeah."

"You like Paris that much?"

Obviously, Mundy couldn't care less about the city. What counted was Lucien, and Lucien was staying there.

"Mundy…? Talk to me, please. I hate to see you distraught." Now, both of Lucien's hands were on Mundy's, wrapped around the warm mug.

"I don't wanna go, is all. It's childish and just plain ridiculous. But I wish I could stay and have… Have more tours of Paris.. With you."

Lucien's thumbs brushed Mundy's hands.

"I wish you could stay too, Mundy." Finally, the Aussie raised his head and met Lucien's sad eyes. "I have rarely felt the peace that I do with you. Your company is soothing for my now fragile nerves."

Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"What d'you mean?"

"There was a time where I was able to withstand a lot of pressure on my shoulders; the pressure of an entire country even. The moment it was gone, my body and mind collapsed. I didn't know anything anymore, even my own identity, what I was, who I was, was hard to grasp. It took years to come back from there. Years that I wouldn't have survived if not for Perle. I focused my time and energy on her. I devoted my attention to her and it distracted me from thinking too much about myself." He paused to catch his breath.

"Y-you got ill?" Lucien raised his eyes to Mundy.

"Oui, a kind of illness that no doctor knows exactly how to cure. A lot of soldiers go through it. They come back from the battlefields and they find it very hard to adjust back to civil life."

"You were a soldier?"

"Worse, but oui, I belonged to the army."

"How did you become a baker then? You were already one before you went to the army?" Mundy asked.

"Non, I was not. I had no skills besides those that I learnt in the army, or so few. You will mock me, but the idea came from Perle."

"Your kitty?"

Lucien nodded.

"One day I took her out to buy some bread with me. She was lying on my shoulders and when I was queueing to get my bread, she jumped out and into the back of the bakery." Lucien smiled as he remembered the events. "The baker let me through and we looked for her together. When we found her, she was asleep on a tray of still warm brioches."

"Aw, was that a long time ago?"

"She was somewhere between a kitten and an adult cat; a teenager, if you will."

"Ah, right. But how did you become a baker?"

"I apologised profusely to the baker and told him I would pay for all the damage and the pawprints… He told me he'd rather have someone to help him make all that again rather than take my money. So I offered my help. He taught me most of what I know now."

"Wow… Talk about finding work randomly, eh…"

"Oui, indeed. Since then, I have felt much better. Working put my attention and energy into something that brought smiles to the customers and apparently, to me too."

"So you got your own bakery goin'?"

"The previous owner of my bakery happens to be that man from the story. He was very old and decided to retire a few years later. He offered to let me buy the shop from him, which I did. I then changed the name to mine and redid some parts inside, the decoration mainly."

"Oh, I see… Wow… Great story you have."

"Merci." Lucien took a sip of his hot chocolate. "What about you? You said you were a hunter?"

"Yeah, but work is more and more rare now when you mainly do pest control and poacher scarin'."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't hunt beasts for trophies, fur or fun. I hunt and tranquilise whatever happens to be a bit too far from its natural habitat, load it on my van, and drive it back where it should be or in a reserve. As for the poachers, I scare them off of endangered species."

"So you don't kill animals?"

"Very rarely. Only for food when I'm out for days and far from home."

"Oh…" Lucien's eyebrows jumped. "I did not expect that. In fact, I didn't even know that this job existed."

"As far as I know, I'm the only one who doesn't actually kill the beasts. I get contracts that get me travellin' through the world quite a bit."

"Very exciting."

"Seein' the sights is nice, yeah. But uh, I miss my family quite fast and uh… It's not so much my family but… I feel a bit… Uh…"

"Lonely?"

Mundy nodded.

"Yeah…"

"I would recommend getting a cat," Lucien said. "But I am afraid that it doesn't completely fill the emptiness that you feel inside."

"I'd imagine so, yeah…"

Silence fell for a while as they both drank more of their hot chocolates.

"I would love you to stay, but your life, your family and your job are in Australia." Lucien said and his eyes met Mundy. They were both distraught and could hardly hide it.

"Yeah… And I don't know anythin' else but shooting a rifle." Mundy looked through the window. It was now properly dark outside and only the yellow lamps inside the old café provided them with some light.

"I am immensely grateful to you however."

"For what?"

"I wouldn't be able to put a name on it but you brought me some peace and you made me wake up in the morning with a new feeling; the eagerness of welcoming a new day that will for sure contain some spark of joy, namely, your presence, your… Hm, you."

Mundy blushed and turned as red as a brick.

"Y-you do the same. I mean, for me. I uh… I'm not just happy to visit the city with my parents. I'm uh… I'm happy in the evenings, with you."

They hadn't realised until then but they were holding hands on the table, the mugs had been pushed aside.

"I wish I could stay, I really do. But uh… Yeah, without a job or anythin', I can't."

"I understand and, for what it is worth, I would love for you to stay too." Lucien hesitated but thought that it might be his last evening with Mundy. He looked around and could see the few customers in the café were far from them. "And not just to help you visit the city."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped as Lucien had spoken quite low. The Frenchman was staring at him with a particular shine in his eyes. He slightly bent forward and Mundy mirrored him. Their faces were a few inches apart.

"L-Lucien, I'd uh… I'd better get back. We still gotta pack a few things before leavin' tomorrow."

Lucien's chest burnt. Hot lava was being poured on his heart.

"Before you go, may I tell you something?"

They were both whispering. Mundy nodded and Lucien gestured to him to get closer, which he did. The Frenchman wrapped a hand behind Mundy's neck and the Aussie froze rigid when he felt Lucien's breath on his ear.

"Je t'aime." He simply whispered and Mundy's entire being burst and melted when he felt Lucien's lips on his rough cheek.

[I love you.]

"U-uh…" The air was scarce in the room but it happened too fast and Mundy was left alone at the table. Lucien had dashed out faster than a shadow. "Fuck me…"

Soon, the surge of love was replaced by boiling rage and Mundy stormed out of the café, almost running back to the hotel. That night, he cried himself to sleep as silently as he could. He didn't want his parents to hear it.

The next morning, Mundy was woken up by his mother.

"Micky, sweetie? You've been sleepin' a long time, it's lunchtime now."

"Don't wanna eat." He rolled himself under the blanket and his parents exchanged a concerned look. "You can go if you want."

"Micky, you can't travel on an empty stomach, son." Mike's voice took the decision for everyone and Mundy sighed before getting out of bed and dressed up.

They arranged for their luggage to be transferred to the airport while they went to have lunch. Obviously, they ended up in Lucien's bakery.

"Bonjour, Lucien!" Mike tried his best.

"Bonjour, Mike. What will it be today?"

"Hold your horses, son, I've gotta see with the wife if I can get dessert first…!"

"Mike, you know the answer to that…"

"Lucien," Mike turned to the baker. "You married, by any chance?"

Lucien shook his head.

"Non, I nearly did but it did not happen."

"Well, before you get married, ask them if you can get dessert for the rest of your life."

"Mike…! You know why you have to be careful, the doctor said so, now be reasonable, dear." Caroline tried.

"And only get a ring on your finger if they say that yes, you can get dessert until your very last breath!"

Lucien smiled, albeit sadly. After that, the Turner family placed their order and soon enough, their sandwiches and salads appeared on the table.

"Lucien, excuse me, dear?" Caroline called and Lucien came to her.

"Oui, Madame?"

"I saw the poster on your front door. You're looking to hire?"

"Oui, indeed. I think this is the end of a chapter for me. Time maybe to do something else."

"Oh, that's a shame. You're very good at what you do!"

"Yeah, your sandwiches are amazin'." Mike added.

"Thank you very much."

"Did you receive applications?" Caroline asked.

"I am afraid not, but I have only put that poster up this morning."

"What kind of people're you lookin' for?" Mike asked.

"Anyone, from inexperienced to confirmed bakers. In fact, I learnt this trade as a beginner and I would like to pass on my knowledge and techniques to someone else. But don't let me bother you. Enjoy your lunch."

He bowed and returned behind his counter. Mundy hadn't listened to any of it. He couldn't even raise his eyes off of his shoes, especially not to see Lucien. It hurt too much.

"Micky?"

"Mh."

"Micky, you want to eat before we go, dear." Caroline said and her son sighed before taking a bite. He chewed slowly and looked away from anyone else.

"Don't like your sandwich, son?"

Mundy didn't answer and didn't see Caroline and Mike exchanging a glance.

"You can try another one, eh."

Still no answer from the heartbroken Aussie. It was a torture. Eating a sandwich made by the hand of a man he had cried for, hands that he had spent the past few weeks holding fondly even if he had never initiated it. Gosh, now he regretted it, he should have done something, anything…! But he wasn't ready, he never was, he had never been prepared for it! In more than three decades of existence, who the hell would come to him and teach him?

"Mike, Madame Caroline?" Lucien had come to the table.

"Yeah?"

"I have a… an unusual request, if I may."

"Go ahead, son." Mike wiped his mouth and frowned to listen better.

"It is actually for Mundy." Lucien said and Mundy frowned too but his eyes were still low. "If you would rather make your own sandwich, you may help yourself to the fridge and the breads that I have."

Mundy didn't flinch.

"If you want… You can… Make not only your sandwich, but… other sandwiches."

"Oh, you mean to take away? Ouch!" Mike asked and received an elbow to his ribs from Caroline who glared at him.

"That is lovely of you, Lucien. Yes, I think he would love doing that, if that is ok with you?"

"It is the least I can offer, Madame."

"Oh, you really don't have to…!"

"Allow me to insist. You have been lovely customers throughout all these weeks."

"And you have been a lovely guide! So, Micky, what do you say?" Caroline asked her son and he sighed.

"Don't know." He mumbled.

"C'mon sweetie, go and make your own sandwich. And make a couple of extra ones for your Dad and I, for the road."

"Mum…" Mundy hid his face in his hands.

"Micky, you don't want to be impolite to Lucien." She insisted.

"Hm…" He grumbled and pushed his chair back before standing up, not seeing his mother whispering something to his father.

"Here, wear this. It would be a shame to have flour on your polo shirt." Lucien handed him an apron. Mundy took it and put it on without looking at it. This whole show hurt and was preposterous… "Now let me show you around the house, pray follow me."

Mundy dragged his feet on the floor and followed Lucien behind the counter.

"What sandwiches would you and Mike like, Madame Caroline?" Lucien asked.

"If you have that ham and butter, what d'you call it again, Lucien?" She answered.

"Jambon-beurre, Madame." He answered. "Mundy, please take one of those in front of you? Thank you, now, follow me to the fridge. Here is the light butter and the lean ham. I keep them on this side to not get them confused with their regular counterparts. Now, you will do your father's sandwich. Here, chopping board, a fresh baguette and a knife. Go ahead."

"L-Lucien…" Mundy sighed in front of the ingredients. "I can't."

Caroline stood up and went to the counter with Mike, customer side, while Mundy and Lucien were on the other side.

"C'mon, son, your first sandwich here, Micky! Caroline, get the camera!" Mike encouraged him.

"And we get to see you make it!" Caroline added enthusiastically and readied herself to take a picture.

"Wh-what?" Mundy asked, confused that his parents were that thrilled for… him making a couple of sandwiches.

"C'mon, cut the bread, Micky, chop, chop!" Mike said and Mundy got to work, missing the point entirely. He made the sandwich for his father and added his mother's to the plastic bag.

"I won't take one for myself." Mundy said and started undoing the apron.

"Of course not, son!" Mike answered with a chuckle and Mundy's confusion just jumped a notch.

"And what are you doing, Micky? Keep the apron!" Caroline laughed.

"What? I'm not gonna travel with that!" Mundy answered.

"Of course not!" She answered.

"What the hell's been going on? Look, this is just - it's just…!" Mundy covered his face with his hands to hide his shame. At that point he thought it was a nightmare and he would wake up.

"Ooh, we're sorry, sweetie…" Caroline hugged him. "We didn't want to upset you."

"But why…?"

"Micky, look at your apron, son." Mike said.

"Dad, look, I'm just tired. Let's go back home." Beyond the distress of leaving Lucien, Mundy felt embarrassed, ashamed to have been put on the spot with the apron, the sandwich making… What was that all about…?

"S'il te plaît, Mundy."

[Please, Mundy.]

Caroline and Mike stepped back to let Lucien get closer to Mundy. The Aussie turned his face away. He couldn't take any of it anymore.

"Mundy…?"

"Take it back and leave me alone." Mundy removed the apron completely and pushed it against Lucien's chest.

"On one condition, you look here."

Mundy sighed but obeyed. Lucien held the apron between his hands.

"What do you read here?"

The apron was white with something sewn on it. Mundy squinted. His shoulders and jaw dropped when he read the word.

Mundy

It was sewn in cursive letters. Mundy looked at Lucien's apron. His name was sewn in the same style.

"What? What's that mean?"

"It means, and forgive me for repeating myself, that I am offering you a job here." Lucien answered.

"What?! I know nothing of bread!"

"I will teach you, you will see, it isn't hard at all."

"But why? I gotta go back home…" Mundy turned to his parents.

"Micky, you can stay longer if you want." Mike said.

"Yeah, it's fine, you're a big boy and you've stayed with us long enough. Maybe this is your chance?" Caroline added and Mundy's eyes lit up with joy and excitement.

"Really?" His voice broke under the emotion he was trying to prudely contain.

"Of course!" Caroline answered. She went to the tip of her toes to put a hand on Mundy’s rough, slender cheek. "Look, for the past few weeks, we realised with your Dad that we hadn't seen you that happy in years. Each night, when you come back from your walks, you smile and even when you sleep, the smile stays on…!"

"Your Mum's right, son. If you're happy here with Lucien, then stay, at least a bit more. And it's not like you were exactly earnin' a decent wage out of a few hunting contracts, eh? Folks will find other people to deal with their beasts. You deal with you, ok?"

"Oh my God…" Mundy's tears came to his eyes faster than he could control. "Gosh…!" He hid his face and his shame with his hands.

"Aw, baby Micky…!" Caroline went to the tip of her toes to hug him and Mike tapped him on the back.

"It's alright, son, it's alright."

"But, you sure, though?" Mundy withdrew from the hug and looked his parents in the eye.

"Of course! We'll make it back home and give you a call when we get there." Caroline said, pinching his cheek gently.

"Yeah, of course!" Mike added. "Now, c'mere son." Father and son exchanged a long hug. "You make your parents proud, yeah?"

"Yeah, Dad, don't worry."

"And you be a good boy, eh?" Caroline added.

"Yes, Mum, I will."

"You look out for each other, alright boys?" Mike looked at Lucien.

"We will, Mike." The Frenchman answered. "But Mundy…?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you accept my offer?" Lucien held the apron up.

Mundy looked at his parents who nodded, then back at Lucien.

"Yeah… Please."

"Fine." Lucien got closer and put the apron on Mundy. He then tied it for him as the Aussie's eyes were riveted on his parents. Caroline was leaning on her husband's side and both wore a proud smile. Mundy hadn't seen his parents smile like that for a long, long time. "There, you are ready."

"Thanks, Lucien." They exchanged a tender gaze and didn't see Caroline's eyes light up.

"Right, boys, I think we should be on our way." Mike said.

"But of course." Lucien answered. "Here, your sandwiches for the road."

"Mum, you call me as soon as you can, ok?" Mundy said, as they all went to the front door.

"Yes, dear, don't worry."

They were now standing outside of the bakery under the beautiful and powerful summer sun.

"You call us sometimes, Micky, eh?" Mike said.

"Sure, I will."

Hugs and kisses were exchanged.

"And you, you take care of our son, alright?" Mike was shaking Lucien's hand and patted his shoulder. After that, he waved for a taxi to stop.

"I will think of him before I think of myself." Lucien answered while giving a nod.

"And Micky, you take care of Lucien too, eh?" Caroline said as she winked, making her son blush beyond his ears.

"Y-yeah Mum, will do…"

"Bye, son."

"Bye guys, careful on your way back, eh?" Mundy answered.

"We will, don't worry."

And on that, they all waved at each other as Mike and Caroline slipped in the taxi and they went their way. Lucien and Mundy stayed for a while, even after the taxi disappeared. The Aussie was out of breath, everything had happened quite fast.

“I’ll miss them.” He said.

“I will miss them too. You are lucky to have very supportive parents, Mundy.”

“Yeah… But I’m glad to stay here.”

"So…" Lucien said as both him and Mundy entered the shop again.

"Yeah?"

"Ready to learn the fine art of bread and pastry making?"

"I guess… I mean, I didn't really think it through, eh." Mundy chuckled and looked at Lucien. "But with you, anythin'."

The Frenchman smiled.

"First lesson: follow me."

They went back behind the counter and Lucien even invited Mundy in the hidden workshop, behind a wooden door. There were tables lined up in the room, fridges on one wall and ovens in the other.

"Woah… It smells incredible in here…!" Mundy said as he was hit by a wave of hot flour.

"Indeed. You will see, you will never get tired of that incomparable smell. Hot flour and sometimes, hints of sugar."

"Yeah…” Mundy inhaled deeply and when he exhaled, his eyes were half closed. That place was heaven... “Right, so what's first?"

Lucien shut the door and looked up at Mundy.

"First, I have to ask you, are you sure you want to stay with me? We can still call a taxi for you and you can join your parents."

Lucien's light blue eyes raised up to Mundy were a sight to behold for the shy Aussie.

"Y-yeah."

"Yes, what? Shall we call a taxi or…?"

"No. I wanna… Try, with you."

Lucien's smile made all his face beam up poetically. He closed the gap between Mundy and himself and hugged the taller man.

"Thank you so much." Both closed their eyes and held dearly to each other. “Thank you so much for trusting me and for believing that this is all worthwhile. I do appreciate that you are leaving everything behind just for me and… I am beyond grateful.”

Mundy bent down to put his lips next to Lucien's ear.

"Lucien?" He whispered.

"Oui?"

"I think I… I love you too." Mundy screwed his eyes shut and buried his head deep in the crook of Lucien's neck, holding Lucien not like a friend, but like the salvation he felt God sent to him through that man.

"Mundy…?"

"Yeah?"

"Look at me."

Mundy did as he was told and Lucien wrapped his arms around the Aussie's neck.

"O-oh… Right… Y-yeah?"

Lucien smiled before his eyelashes bowed down as he slowly closed his eyes. He pushed himself to the tip of his toes and did what he had dreamt of doing.

Mundy's eyes rolled up in bliss and if he froze for a second, the kiss made him soon melt such that he bent down and pulled Lucien from his back and his hip, to feel more of him against himself. He yielded to the passion of the moment, he let everything explode in him, the yearning, the longing...

It lasted for a few seconds that they both wanted to extend, but the call for air was stronger. When they broke the kiss, they stayed with their foreheads against each other.

Neither knew what to say first, to exit that moment.

"Hold on…" Mundy eventually said.

"Oui? Something is the matter?" Lucien asked.

"No but… You had an apron with my name all along?"

"Non," Lucien chuckled. "When I came back yesterday night, I spent some time thinking and smoking. I couldn't help but repeat the discussion we had in the café on loop in my head. And then I remembered what you said, that you wouldn't be able to stay without a job. That was when I got the idea to hire you."

"Oh, woah…"

"So I woke up this morning, my mind set as hard as stone. I thought that I would ask in front of your parents."

"How did you know they'd accept?"

"I think your mother felt it, for a long time."

"She felt what?"

"Mundy, she is a woman, and your mother, she feels those things. Besides, each time you have lunch here you stare at me with such insistence…!"

"What?! No, I don't!" Mundy protested and his cheeks turned red.

"Yes, you do, mon amour, and don't blush so much…" Lucien chuckled and tapped the tip of Mundy's nose.

"Did you just call me-?"

"My love, oui. Now, let us go to work - oh?!" Lucien's sentence was interrupted by an intense - if slightly awkward - kiss. Mundy held him dearly, almost clawed in his sides and Lucien smiled.

"That is quite unprofessional, hm?" The Frenchman teased.

"Well, you started it, eh?"

"Non, I did not kiss my employer."

"You kissed your employee, that's worse."

"Non, you are not my employee yet."

"What?"

"You are my apprentice…"

"Right, fair enough. What's that make you then?" Mundy asked.

"... And my lover."

"Oh, right, ok, uhm… I-I mean…"

"And very shy."

"Well…"

They spent the beginning of that afternoon in the workshop dealing with bread and pastries as they teased each other. When the time came to close the shop and go back home, Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"H-hold on." He said on the pavement with Lucien.

"Oui?"

"I… I don't have a home here… I could probably be able to pay a couple more nights at the hotel but…"

Lucien's chuckle cut Mundy's sentence.

"Why're you laughin'? I'm telling you I'm homeless…!"

"Don't be silly, Mundy. Come." Lucien took his hand and led the way.

"Right… I s'ppose you can walk me back to the hotel…"

"Non, I will not and I am not."

"Where are we goin' then?"

"Home."

Mundy frowned in confusion but decided to wait and see. Meanwhile, he held Lucien's hand dearly in his own. A few minutes later, Lucien stopped and got some keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and flipped a switch.

"Meow…!"

A white cloud brushed the floor and jumped in Lucien's arms.

"Oui, mon bébé, bonsoir, Papa est rentré…"

[Yes, my baby, good evening to you too, Papa has come home…]

He kissed her countless times and carried her in his arms indeed like a baby.

"Mundy, this is Perle. Perle, this is Mundy."

"Oh, yeah, your kitty…! Hello there, pretty lady…" Mundy scratched her cheeks and jaw, and soon both Lucien and him heard her pur.

"She likes you already." Lucien said.

"I'm good with animals usually, yeah… Hold on, what d'you mean 'already'?"

"Perle," Lucien said to his cat. "Mundy here is more than just a man who knows how to scratch you perfectly."

"Meow?"

"Oui, he is Papa's very good friend."

"Meow…?"

"Fine, oui, he is Papa's… Second half."

"Meow!"

"Don't worry, you are still my baby, but now, you are our baby, because Mundy here" Lucien raised his eyes to his lover. "Mundy here will live with us."

"Wh-...? Wait, are you serious?" Mundy asked in shock at the door's threshold. Lucien pulled him in and closed the door after him.

"I am. Now, make yourself at home, and give me an instant, someone has to feed this snow white baby."

"Meow!"

Lucien went to the kitchen as Mundy opened wide eyes and observed every little thing in the room. The paintings, most of them abstract, the furniture, the brown leather sofa, the persian style carpet in front of it, on which was the coffee table. There was a fireplace too and on the mantelpiece, pictures. They were all about Perle, the white kitten who grew to a majestic, fluffy creature with mesmerising blue eyes, a bit like her master.

"One last thing Mundy…!" Lucien said from the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"I have only one double bed!"

Mundy blushed and smiled.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #dontneedavalentine2021

29 notes · View notes

litttlesilkworm · 4 years

Text

Chicken and Beets

Dear Comrades,

Here is another entry for the Chernobyl New Year Challenge 2021: a recipe + a bit of a story to go with it. The story turned out more than a bit sad, I must confess 💚💛💜

This project shares a common ingredient with our delightful collaboration with @alyeen1 on Valoris-themed cocktail recipes - beets! Check out our cocktail post if you haven’t gotten a chance yet!

As @alyeen1 has pointed out in the cocktail post, the idea with using beets comes from the fact that there is an untouched plate of boiled chicken and beets on Valery’s desk as mentioned in the Ep. 3 script:

We can, indeed, see the plate in the foreground in the frame below:

I wanted to imagine a little riff on this detail in a form of a scene that would take place later - in Moscow, not long after Boris and Valery come back from Chernobyl for good. It is New Year’s Eve, and Boris is having Valery over at his apartment to celebrate the arrival of 1987 together, just the two of them.

For the story and the recipe (and a picture of food), please click below!

Content warning: food/appetite, canon-consistent sad themes (”5 years”).

@shark-from-the-park @elenatria @drunkardonjunkyard @green-ann @johnlockismyreligion @borislegasov @owlboxes @seaweednpeanuts @attachedtofictionalpeople @gwinny3k @kylos-scarf @scarlettestar @the-jewish-marxist @cinemaocd @natasharedfox @ignalina-c0re @potter012 @stellan-pip-69 @art-is-a-malady @antonellachan4567 @hereliesnils @sunset-and-periwinkle @thegreenmeridian and everyone else!

“Something smells amazing, Borya,” Valery exclaims as he steps into Boris’ palatial apartment. He carefully sets two large white cardboard boxes, both tied with a string, and a canvas bag with bottles of champagne on the floor of Boris’ spacious hallway, and takes off his fur hat.

Boris is wearing a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, black trousers and a red checkered apron. The heat of the kitchen has given his face a very appealing kind of sheen, a few errant strands of gray hair have fallen on his forehead, and his smooth cheeks look flushed. He seems excited about something, as if he has a secret that he is itching to reveal - but has to hold off on it for some only known to him dramatic timing.

He looks so attractive that the sight of him quite literally takes Valery’s breath away.

In the very next moment, Boris dives for his lips with a precision and determination of a hunting hawk. The tone and pitch of Boris’ contented hum, the way he holds Valery, the way he runs his fingers through his ginger hair as it crackles with static electricity, the way his thumbs rub circles on Valery’s cheeks, rosy from the biting wind outside, all tell the same story. It is a happy story, Valery knows. The one about how much he missed Valery, and how grateful he is to have Valery’s love, and how pleased he is to greet him here in his warm home, on this New Year’s Eve, and how he has prepared a surprise, and how much he’d enjoyed the process of preparation, and how excited he is to reveal it.

They part eventually, smiling, breathing “happy-new-years” into each others’ mouths.

Boris’ gaze falls on the packages Valery carefully carried from Yeliseevsky market down the iced-over sidewalks.

“You’ve brought champagne, wonderful! And dessert-”

“I couldn’t decide between eclairs and the Napoleon, so I got both,” Valery says shyly, feeling his face getting warm. In reality, he got both because both looked so tempting to him. He is the one with a sweet tooth.

“Remember the box of frozen eclairs I found in the freezer at the restaurant at Polissya?” smiles Boris.

Valery nods enthusiastically. A good memory.

“It was the first thing I’ve seen you eat at Chernobyl like you actually had an appetite! It was a relief to see you excited about food. Do you remember what they used to feed us from the mobile kitchen?” Boris asks as he helps Valery out of his coat, shaking the snow off it.

“Yes,” Valery says with a bit of dramatic shudder. They are like two soldiers reminiscing about the shared misery of a foxhole, Boris and him. “Pikalov’s unit has the best chemists and engineers in the Soviet Union - but not exactly the best cooks.”

Boris laughs heartily in agreement. “Remember what they used to serve most often?”

“Hmmm?” Valery cocks his head to the side and looks at Boris quizzically. “Boiled chicken and beets?”

“Right!” exclaims Boris. “Chicken that tasted like cotton balls.”

“And the beets! They must’ve boiled them all afternoon - they hardly had any color left in them,” adds Valery.

“You barely touched that food anyway. I was worried you will start wasting away. You would have a few bites if me or Nikolai were eating with you but if you were left alone with your calculations - forget it...” Boris waves his hand.

“That’s not true!” Valery exclaims, indignant. “I ate what everyone else was eating!”

“You know, after you told me that isotopes don’t go into butter, I’ve taken to buying slabs of butter from the few villagers who had stayed behind. I would put buttered bread on your plate as you worked late into the night in your corner of the suite. You would finish your piece without noticing it and then I would slip you another one. After I fed you five or six of those I could be content and go read my Pravda.”

The revelation catches Valery completely off guard - he recalls the buttered bread, yes, but he truly, honestly never realized that Boris had been slipping him an entire daily calories’ worth at nighttime. All he remembers is his papers, his calculator, his logarithmic ruler, his aching neck and a constant crushing sense of dread that he might be completely, irredeemably wrong with his projections.

“I know you’ve never noticed,” Boris tilts his head and looks at him softly, crinkles gathering around his laughing eyes. He reaches to squeeze somewhat disoriented Valery’s shoulder, shaking the younger man back and forth gently. “But I knew that I got you fed, and that was good enough for me.”

Something beautiful and sad rises inside Valery and spills into a mist of tears in his eyes. It’s not what he wanted or expected of himself this evening, but he can’t help it.

A tinny voice deep inside him, like a small radio hidden under a thick pillow, scrapes at him in its metallic, nagging cadence - this won’t last, you fool. This - all of this - won’t last. You’ve seen his radiospectrogram, you’ve seen yours. Your bones are chock-full of strontium, both of you. Your leukocyte count is starting to look bad. He’s got that new cough whenever he lies down, and it doesn’t seem to go away.

Every time Valery hears that cough is like a razor to his heart.

“Please don’t take him,” he thinks now as he lies awake during oh-so-common for him sleepless nights, with his face pressed to Boris’ broad back, listening to the soft sound of his breath - the amazing sound of life that is dearer to him than his own.

“Please don’t take him,” he says to someone he doesn’t know how to talk to, to something he isn’t sure exists beyond the electrons orbiting the clumps of protons and neutrons. Beyond the quantum uncertainty. Beyond the cosmic void.

After he knew the cough was here to stay, he seemed to have adjusted his nighttime bargain. “Please don’t take him first.”

The vision of Boris in his red apron blurs and trembles in Valery’s eyes, sliding slightly sideways and downwards. He blinks the veil of tears away, wiping his eyes with his small hand so he could see his love clearly again.

“You look so handsome tonight, Borya. And I love you so much,” Valery says softly, a wet sound escaping his throat. “So much.”

“Valera,” Boris wraps his arms around him in an attempt to quiet whichever emotion is roiling his lover, grumbling softly near his ear, “do you know what it meant for me to take care of you in the midst of all that... madness? It kept me together, too, you know - loving you. And you look amazing in blue.”

Boris’ hands slide down to stroke Valery’s plump sides clad in a soft blue sweater vest as he says that.

"Thank you,” Valery closes his eyes and breathes, soaking in the comfort of Boris’ touch.

“I want to dance with you later tonight,” he mumbles into Boris’ shirt.

“Yeah,” Boris answers softly into his hair. “Yeah, that would be good.”

Boris’ arm is around Valery as he leads him into the living room, where a holiday table is set next to an enormous New Year’s tree adorned with a red star and coated generously with silver tinsel.

Valery has been saving space in his belly all day and is now finding himself, in fact, very, very hungry.

As Boris shuttles back and forth between the living room and the kitchen with bowls and serving platters, Valery fusses with the wires of the champagne bottle, looking worriedly at the chandelier.

“I’ve got Olivier salad, red caviar sandwiches, oh! - pickled mushrooms, so good,” Boris recites proudly. “And for the main course... you wouldn’t mind if we had chicken and beets tonight, would you? Like in the old times?”

He pauses for a proper dramatic effect. The look of momentary dismay on Valery’s face must be so comical that it makes the older man laugh out loud.

“Don’t worry, love - it’s the good kind. This one you wouldn’t want to pass up,” says Boris, beaming, and proceeds to fill Valery’s plate. “Eat, Valera, eat.”

The winter winds are wailing hard outside, but here in the warm living room the air is filled with the clinking of cutlery and Valery’s delighted humming as he devours Boris’ creation. Even the nagging metallic voice in Valery’s head seems to have quieted down to an indecipherable murmur, as if tucked away behind a thick wall somewhere. Really, he can barely hear it at all.

* * *

Recipe: Chicken Delmonico + Warm Beet Salad with Pears, Gorgonzola Cheese and Walnuts

For the chicken, I followed Emeril Lagasse’s excellent Chicken Delmonico recipe exactly (just the chicken, not the mushroom part), except that I didn’t make my own spice mix the way he suggests, but instead combined store-bought cajun spice mix with salt in a 5:1 ratio.

The key to this recipe is to be generous with the seasoning!

For the beet salad, I did the following:

Ingredients:

6 medium-sized beets

2 large ripe pears

⅔ of a cup of walnut halves and pieces

⅔ of a cup of Gorgonzola cheese crumbs

Extra-virgin olive oil

Lemon juice

Salt and pepper

1. Scrub the beets with a brush, rub with olive oil and wrap in foil. Roast in a 350 F (175 C) oven for 40 min, then let them cool until you can comfortably handle them. Peel the beets and chop them into ½ inch-thick slices, set aside.

2. Toast walnuts in a 350 F oven for 6-7 minutes, chop, set aside.

3. Peel and chop the pears into slices similar in size to your beet slices.

4. In a large mixing bowl, combine beet and pear slices, toasted walnuts and Gorgonzola. Add olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste, and mix well. Enjoy!

#chernobyl #valoris #chernobyl new year challenge 2021 #valery legasov #boris shcherbina #cw food #cw appetite #valoris fanfiction

41 notes · View notes

stellar-starseed · 4 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet

Group: Ateez

Pairing: Student!Mingi x Teacher;fem!reader

Summary: Mingi’s senior year takes a turn as he finds himself entangled with his teacher.

Warning: Themes of grooming, sexual content, language

Part: One

Mingi sighed to himself and slumped in his seat. He was not a fan of English, it was so boring, and he was preparing for this years mess of essays. He dropped his book down on his desk.

“She’s hot!” Wooyoung whispered rather loudly as he sat next to Mingi.

“Who?” Mingi questioned looking up from his desk for the first time since entering the classroom.

“Her.” Wooyoung pointed to the front of the class. Mingi’s gaze followed Wooyoung’s finger to find the new English teacher. Mingi hadn’t seen her around. She was quite attractive, he thought. He shrugged it off, certain that this class would be hell.

“Alright, my name is Ms. ______. I see we are dealing with seniors!” The class responds with celebratory hollers. You chuckle at them. “Alright, well that is perfect! We’re going to get in to the good stuff this year guys. Are you excited? Please don’t answer that.” You laugh at yourself.

Mingi catches your smile as you laugh and he’s suddenly more interested. You pass out papers to each row and as they are passing them backward, you begin to read a poem.

The small chatter of the class fades out to Mingi and he tunes in to this voice like honey. It washes over him and he’s in a trance. The words he had followed along to on the page slip away and he looks up to see the source of the voice. Something about the poem she chose spoke to him.

Mingi gathered the bags of trash from the last bin at the back of the restaurant and headed outside. Chucking the bags over the dumpster’s edge, he heard laughter from behind.

“I know Yunho!” Mingi turned to see his best friends bent over laughing. Jungho spotted Mingi.

“Hey!” He yelled in a whisper. He jogged over to Mingi and passed him the joint.

“Guys, I’m starving!” Yunho whined.

“You’re always starving.” Mingi chuckled and took a long hit from the joint.

“Yeah but doesn’t a shake sound fucking delicious?” Yunho takes the joint from Mingi and takes a drag. “Come on man, a couple of shakes for your besties!” Yunho slaps Mingi’s chest with the back of his hand. Mingi rolls his eyes snatches the joint from Yunho to take another drag.

“A shake does sound kind of good right now.” Mingi hands the joint to Jongho. Yunho throws his hands up in victory.

After stomping out the joint and leaving the evidence in the parking lot the three boys head into the diner. Mingi walks to the back and starts an order on his tab. He sighs to himself. He knows his friends mean well, but sometimes they could be a pain.

Mingi serves the guys their shakes and fries and takes a seat at the table with them. His shift ended twenty minutes ago, but he would have to clean up after his friends.

“Dude!” Yunho slaps the table. “Isn’t that the hot teacher?” Jongho lifts his head to see and agrees.

“That’s definitely her.” Jongho shoves a fry in his mouth.

“What are we waiting for let’s go welcome her!” Yunho jumps up and heads towards the lunch counter.

“Hey, Ms. ________. I’m Yunho. I don’t have your class this year but I heard you’re like a really great teacher.”

“Oh?” You say and chuckle to yourself. “Well thank you that’s very kind of you to say.”

“Hey, do you mind if we join you? We would just like to welcome you properly.”

“Well,” you look around at the three boys, recognizing one from your class earlier today. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great thanks.” Yunho waves the guys over to take a seat. He climbs over the barstool and takes a seat next to you. After a long sip from his shake he asks, “So how do you like it so far?”

“Oh, uh, everyone seems very nice and welcoming.” You smile and take a drink from your straw.

“Shit!” Yunho says after looking at his phone, “Uh, I mean shoot. Sorry, it’s my mom I have to go. Jungho, give me a ride?”

“Yeah, wait up. Mingi are you coming?”

“No, man. It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Jungho takes one last sip from his shake and a fry to go as he waves and runs after Yunho. Mingi sighs and drops the fries back down on the plate.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Mingi quickly shakes it off and smiles. “They just sort of think this is all free because I work here.”

“You work here?” You question. He nods and you nod along with him. “This is a pretty great sandwich. You want the other half? I’m not going to eat it.”

“Are you sure?” Mini questions as you push the plate towards him. When he hesitates you nod at him. You notice how he devours it in front of you. It makes you feel sad for him.

“So, did you just move in to town?”

“No, actually I’ve lived here my whole life. I just taught at the private school just outside of town.”

“Did you always want to be a teacher?”

“Sort of yeah. How about you. What is your dream?”

“I want to be a doctor...” Mingi looked away a bit embarrassed.

“Okay.” You nod and smile at him. “That’s valid.”

“Yeah, well people like me don’t have many opportunities.” He shook his head letting the remaining sandwich fall from his hand to the plate. “I am shit at exams and the entrance exam is no different.”

“It’s honestly a set of rules. You can learn them.”

“Can you teach me?” Mingi was surprised at how forward he was, but something pulled him towards her.

“Uh, I don’t know about that.” You chuckle and stir your straw around your melting shake.

“Oh come on please? I don’t have anyone else and I can’t afford those stupid tutoring sessions or classes. You’re my only hope at getting into the school I want.” You look Mingi in the eyes and see nothing but sincerity. You sigh to yourself and nod.

“Yes!” Mingi smiles wide.

“But you have to take this seriously and I have to get it cleared with the school and your parents.”

“Deal.” Mingi chuckled lightly in disbelief.

The following weekend Mingi was was at the restaurant with a bright smile on his face. He didn’t think he could enter those worn doors with this much excitement. He took a seat at the counter directly in front of the doors as to be spotted when you walked in. He laid out his books and started where he had last left off.

“Hey.” You say slightly unsure as you take a seat next to Mingi.

“H-hello,” Mingi cleared his throat. “Ms. ________.” You smiled at him.

“You can call me ______.” You blurted out. You were a bit taken aback at your own comment, but now it was out there, lingering in the air. You swallowed hard and look down at the books.

“Where are we?” You feel a bit warm and are curious about your sudden change with this boy. Hopefully he didn’t get the wrong idea, and hopefully he didn’t call you by your first name in front of other students or at school.

“Ah.” You say. “We should take it back a notch.” You flip through some pages. Pointing to a problem you give an example and Mingi leans in, his arm is pressed against yours and you don’t move.

Your heart rate increases and you continue to explain as best you can. Your mind is wandering to places you are ashamed to admit. The way his warm skin feels against yours. The way you turned away and closed your eyes momentarily to remember the feeling he gave you when he looked into your eyes. It was all too much to think about. How could this kid be causing these feelings? You brushed it away.

Mingi felt an electricity between you two. He felt alive. No one had ever made him feel that way. Your relaxed demeanor and body language were open to him. He was excited about what this could mean. His hand brushed against yours as he pointed to a problem. Your calm reaction, and the way you never moved away from his touches only called him to push the boundaries whenever possible.

“So, we’re done for today. Practice those last few pages and we’ll meet next week.” You gently smile at him and gather your things. Mingi is left feeling empty when your car pulls out of the parking lot. He wanted to be around you as much as he could.

The next week Mingi was surprised to see you pulling up in your car. You were earlier than normal and he was excited. You smiled up at him and his heart fluttered. Mingi awkwardly rocked on his feet while he waited for you to get out of your car. You waved him along and he offered a questioning look. You laughed at him.

“Come on.” You say, waiving him along with more vigor. Mingi nods with a large smile and he ran around the front of your car to hop in to the passengers seat.

The excitement died down for Mingi, and the silence blanketed him. He began to feel like he needed to fill the air with some random chatter.

“So, we’re going to tour the campus.” You say pulling him from his thoughts. His face lit up and and he turned to face you.

“Are you sure about this?” He questioned. You nod and laugh at his over exaggerated excitement.

You finally make it to the campus Mingi had dreamed of attending. Your words played in his head, ‘I used to go here, so I can show you around campus. It will be a cool learning experience.’

“Come on.” You wave Mingi along and he’s pulled from his thoughts. He smiles down at you and lingers close to you. The tension thickens. You turn swiftly and head towards your first stop.

“Mingi? Is that you?” Mingi clearly hears a familiar voice of one of his friends older brothers. He shyly smiles in your direction and tries to ignore it.

“Song Mingi! I know that’s your tall skinny ass over there. Get over here!” Mingi apologized to you as he bowed his head. He quickly ran over and said a few words to the other boy.

“Mingi, are you going here next year?”

“Ah, I don’t know.”

“You should, but you should most definitely come to this party we have going on right now. We just had to stop to pick up some ice and some more drinks.”

“No, no. Not today. I can’t.” Mingi shakes his head and says his goodbyes.

“Sorry about that.” Mingi jogged towards you. You smiled.

“It’s okay did you want to go hang out with your friends instead?”

“No, not at all.” Mingi waved your suggestion away.

Mingi was enamored by all the facts and stories you had to share about the campus. You didn’t expect to give so many personal stories on this tour, but Mingi was so intrigued and he asked question after question. It was intoxicating to have someone that interested. You wandered around and time seemed to fly by.

Soon you stumbled upon a party through your tour and you were being offered various forms of alcohol. Mingi denied multiple times and you began to feel as though you were holding him back.

“Mingi!” You both look in the direction of the earlier voice.

“Hey, I knew you would come.” The man jogged up to you both and greeted Mingi. He politely greeted you. You and Mingi both glance around and realize there was more of a crowd and most of them were holding cups of alcohol.

“Hey, _______, this is my buddy, Sam.” Sam takes your hand and offers you both a drink. Mingi immediately denies the drink and you accept, causing Mingi to rethink his refusal. Sam hands you both cups of his alcoholic concoction.

You sip at the strong drink and walk around what was apparently the big party. Mingi picks a spot for you both to sit down. After touring most of the campus it was nice to finally take a seat.

“So,” Mingi starts. He drinks the remaining liquid left in his cup.

“So...?” You counter. Mingi smiles and grabs another drink for you both. The silence that had settled over you was no longer awkward. You began to loosen up. Why would you need to feel awkward anyway. Mingi was a legal adult and after you realized that simple fact you relaxed much more.

Mingi asked about your childhood and your reasons for becoming a teacher. You got a bit deeper than you expected, letting him know your father was an alcoholic and you had to do most of the cleaning up since your brother had gone off to the military. When you finished your little story you felt a bit embarrassed for letting everything out.

“Wow,” Mingi said softly. “I could tell you were a strong woman.” He nods. You smile, sure there must be a slight blush on your cheeks. A silence settled in once again as you look up to find Mingi staring at you.

“I like listening to you.” He says finally. You offer a small smile and suggest it’s time to head back home.

Mingi was elated when he finally laid down in bed. He was wide awake and all thoughts lead back to you. Mingi was intoxicated by this new feeling, this excitement and wonder. Mingi felt there was so much there. He finally drifted to sleep with a small smile still on his lips.

Mingi found English class much more interesting. He was more alert and his grades in English definitely improved. He felt a bit more bold after a few study sessions. Knowing you wouldn’t have a class next period, Mingi skipped his math class and headed straight for your classroom.

“Hey, Ms. ______.” Mingi offered a shy crooked smile. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, Mingi. Can I help you?” You place your papers on your desk and step out from behind it. Mingi looks around the classroom and you furrow your eyebrows at his odd behavior before leaning back into your desk and crossing your arms over your chest. Mingi steps closer.

“I-“ his voice is lower and you lean in a bit to hear him better. He steps even closer. Your breath hitches and your heart starts to pound in your ears. His lips press against yours and your caught by surprise. His kiss is confident but gentle and when he pulls away your wide eyes look up at him.

“Mingi.” Your fingers touch your lips. “Out! You have to get out.”

“I’m- shit. I’m sorry!” Mingi begins to panic. All the signs he saw, he knew he couldn’t be wrong.

“Now, Mingi. You need to go now.” You point to the door. Your heart rate is through the roof, your suddenly shaking. You quickly glance around your class room. You follow Mingi’s path to the door and look out in the hall. You close the door and let out the breath you were holding.

“Fuck!” You whisper to yourself . You push stray strands of hair out of your face and try to pull yourself together.

Mingi decided to skip his last class altogether. He headed home and cursed himself for being overly confident . All the signs you gave he was certain were solid signs. You seemed to be interested. Mingi racked his brain and he was certain he didn’t misread the signals you put out.

————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this little bit of writing.

See you next time, love. Stay golden.

#queued for your reading pleasure #song Mingi #Mingi #ateez #teachers pet #imagines #scenarios #Mingi x reader #Mingi x fem!reader #Mingi imagines #Mingi scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fan fic #kpop fan fiction #ateez fan fic #kpop #teacher’s pet

44 notes · View notes