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awanderingtortoise · 4 years ago

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a/n: first of all, i would like to thank my genius brain for answering the ask this stemmed from privately, therefore losing all access to it and anything i typed in reply. i would also like to thank google docs for housing the backup copy of this fic, ensuring my panic lasted only half the time it could have. finally (and the only serious thing here) ty to @nabrizoya for giving this idea during my 'i cant write banter only dad jokes help' panic, i loved it and wrote far more on it than i expected.

laughter in the rain

ao3

word count: 2.1k of pure fluff and crack

blurb: in which Nikolai is much too found of puns while Zoya is the polar opposite, and a young, incredibly chaotic Squaller child wreaks absolute havoc on literally everything.

(from tumblr ask: how about nikolai interacting with zoya's students and them finding nikolai's dad jokes funnier than zoya does (though she does secretly enjoy them)

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Zoya knew she was in for it when she agreed to teach Damyen to summon lightning. Possible consequences listed themselves in her head without regard for her anxiety: Getting half her hair burned off. An emergency fire drill, minus the drill, at the Little Palace. Possibly a few roasted pigeons falling from the sky. The ten-year old Squaller was undeniably one of her most gifted students, possessing a striking talent for both the Small Science and utter chaos. Unsurprising, really, considering the child both worshiped Nikolai and had a disposition remarkably close to the latter’s. Zoya’s rant on the young Grisha amused him to no end.

“A miniature me,” Nikolai mused, glancing thoughtfully at Zoya as he sat on the edge of their bed. “And shaping up to be quite the handful.”

“You have no idea,” she grumbled, brushing out a stubborn tangle in her hair, eyes still bleary from her slumber or lack thereof. She’d slept terribly and dreamt her kefta had been on fire. Though she was never much for fortune-tellers or prophetic hogwash, she had an inkling this particular dream would soon be reality. “You could be brothers with how much you have in common. Insubordinate. Endless chatter. Utterly chaotic.”

“Handsome?” Nikolai suggested, inspecting his boots before putting them on. “Charismatic and startlingly intelligent? Really, my dear; you don’t have to be quite so negative.”

“I’m likely about to be set on fire. I have every right to be negative.”

“Now, now,” He said soothingly. “I’m sure it will be a very- enlightening experience.”

Zoya froze mid-brush stroke, turning to give him a withering glare. “Nikolai,” she hissed.

He grinned. “Yes?”

“We have talked about this.”

“Have we?”

“No more puns,” Zoya ordered. For every joke Nikolai in his love for infuriating humor could crack, these were the worst. The only people in the palace that found them amusing were Tolya and Nikolai himself. Which meant, of course, that Tolya was the only one Nikolai didn’t subject to this banal torture.

“Why?” Nikolai whined. “I find them rather electrifying, don’t you?”

She slammed her brush onto the table and stalked towards him, seizing his wrist. “I will blow you out the window. I will tie you to a tree and let Damyen use you for target practice.”

“From the sound of him, he wouldn’t dare. He loves me.”

“He’s also remarkably similar to you and has every ounce of your taste for drama. He might, and if he doesn’t you have my word that I will do it myself.” Zoya let her eyes flash silver, static crackling in the air.

“Alright,” Nikolai sighed, unperturbed by the display. “Fine. I concede. It’s but a trifle. A storm in a teacup, if you w- ow !”

She had sent a small shock through his arm, and now scoffed at the reaction to her handiwork. “Consider this a warning,” she sniffed, before turning to leave the room. “I have a Squaller to teach.”

“Storming off, are we- ow- ”

Only once the door was safely slammed behind her did she let her frown shift, lips quirking upwards. “Damnable idiot,” she muttered, smile clear in her voice.

“You love me for it,” Nikolai called from inside the room.

Zoya scowled. She’d need to have the walls thickened.

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

To Zoya’s right, a flock of very terrified and slightly singed geese squawked and took to the skies. Their nest lay in a steaming pile of ash. She raised a single eyebrow at her pupil. “Damyen, this is-”

“Awesome!” He cackled, gathering the ash in his hands and tossing it in the air like confetti. The flakes drifted down, settling in Zoya’s hair and eyelashes.

“I was going to say dismal. I do not recall asking you to set birds on fire. Your aim is terrible.”

“But I shot lighting!” He stared at his fingertips with such utter reverence for himself that Zoya didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“If you want to shoot lighting without setting your friends alight, I’d suggest you learn to hit your mark,” She said as sternly as possible. He’d picked up on the skill remarkably quickly, in all honesty, and the currents he summoned were more than good for a start. She was impressed, but her approval would only be gained with sufficient effort. And after more than a few sharp comments. “You aim worse than a blind mole rat. Again.”

Damyen sighed but brought his hands together once more, brow knitting in concentration as lightning began to form in his palm. Strands of his bronze hair fell onto his face and he squinted through them at the target. Adjusted his hands. Squinted again.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Zoya muttered. “Perhaps you’re waiting for the Saints to come riding down on a shiny chariot?”

He snorted, apparently genuinely amused, then let the bolt fly. At the same moment, a golden-haired figure strolled into the lightning’s path.

Zoya shrieked, hurtling a gust of wind towards Nikolai and blowing him to the ground. The streak of electricity slammed perfectly into the target’s center, setting the whole thing aflame. Damyen whooped, throwing up his hands and sending wind blowing every which way; scattering leaves into the air as Nikolai groaned and swore from his spot in the grass.

“Hello,” He said weakly. “Atmosphere’s rather charged around here, don’t you think?”

She huffed and pulled him to his feet, glaring daggers.

“No shocks,” Nikolai noted.

“I may change my mind. Care to explain yourself, Lantsov? In the habit of trying to kill yourself?”

“I hardly need to try. I’m a magnet for life threatening situations. Though I’ll admit that today it was a personal decision.” He beamed, spreading his hands. “I simply wanted to help you make good on your threat.”

Zoya rolled her eyes. “Why are you here? Has something come up with the Fjerdans? Did the Kerch renegotiate the trade-”

“Zoya, Zoya, Zoya,” Nikolai sighed, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “You worry too much.”

“I worry exactly the right amount for this fickle country. Answer the question, or I truly will have him target you.”

“Is it so hard to believe I came here only to see you?”

“Yes.”

“You wound me. But if you must know, I thought I could be of some assistance.”

“As target practice?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve had quite enough of that. As a mentor. As a bribe, perhaps; for your little firecracker over there.” He glanced at Damyen, still stripping trees of their hard-earned leaves and seemingly unaware that he’d nearly killed his beloved idol. “You seemed like you could use some help.”

She raised her chin disdainfully. “I am perfectly capable of wrangling the little-”

A loud crack sounded and the sky darkened rapidly, clouds swarming over their heads as rain began to pour furiously in a matter of seconds. A few meters away, a bright flash enveloped a tree, sending the trunk bursting into flames.

“Damyen!” Zoya screeched.

The boy stared at her, wide-eyed and grinning in a mix of elation and fear. “I made a storm, Your Highness!”

“Congratulations. Now do you mind stopping before you kill us all?”

“But I-” His eyes found Nikolai and realization set in as he beamed and the rain poured even harder. “Your Highness- es !”

Another boom, and a second, larger tree was wreathed in electricity and fire. It groaned, wobbling dangerously before crashing to the ground.

Nikolai’s brow furrowed, squinting against the pouring rain. “That,” he started. “Was a centuries-old sacred cypress planted by the first Lantsov kings. Now firewood. Impressive.”

Damyen’s chest puffed with pride.

“You can fawn over each other later,” Zoya snapped. “Damyen, enough with the storm. Turn it off before you start a forest fire.”

He grinned sheepishly. “How?”

She muttered obscenities, raising her hands and dispelling the clouds with a flick of her wrists. The sky cleared, small patches of pouring rain left to quell the still-burning trees as Nikolai whistled appreciatively, clapping; and Damyen gave a small bow. Saints, these two would be the death of her.

“So,” Nikolai said, soft enough that Damyen couldn’t hear. “Changed your mind?”

She sighed. “Fine. Make your attempt. You’ve always loved trying your hand at the impossible.”

“Improbable,” he corrected, then strolled over to Damyen, running a hand through the golden strands plastered to his forehead. Soaking wet and almost cooked alive, and he still looked every bit the regal prince; she thought, a grudging, now-familiar fondness rushing through her like a horrible, tooth-rotting sweet. She scowled.

“Lovely morning,” The prince greeted. Damyen bent over in a hasty bow, but Nikolai waved his hand. “No need. Are you the wonderfully gifted Squaller her Highness speaks of so highly?”

Zoya snorted, but Damyen’s eyes practically doubled in size. “She does?”

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai said seriously. “You’re quite talented, I hear.” He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. “Just between the two of us,” muttered Nikolai, very much loud enough for Zoya to be able to hear. “I think you remind her of herself, when she was your age.”

She opened her mouth; ‘What utter bullshit,’ already on the tip of her tongue but Nikolai raised a gloved finger, eyes twinkling. With much effort, she clamped her mouth shut.

Damyen seemed he might faint on the spot. Nikolai went on. “Really, there’s quite a lot you two have in common. Powerful. Willful. In possession of a rather strong attachment to me.”

The young Grisha was eating up his words. Zoya wanted to strangle the both of them.

Nikolai took a seat on a faintly smoking tree stump. “You seem to have quite a lot going on for you, learning to summon lighting and all. A rather current affair, don’t you think?”

The silence seemed to stretch on infinitely. Then Damyen gave a toothy grin and guffawed far, far louder than that sorry excuse for a joke deserved.

“Oh for Saints’ sake, Nikolai,” she groaned, shoving her face into her hands.

“Zoya, dear; no need to thunder about like that,” Nikolai said soothingly. Damyen bit his cheek in an attempt to control himself, but whatever smidgen of respect he had left for her kept him silent for barely a second before he burst into a fit of giggles.

Zoya threw her arms up in frustration and from the clouds a deep, deafening roar answered her-- how’s that for thundering, you nincompoop-- as the sky flashed once more, bright streaks lacing every cloud in an intricate web. Damyen’s gleeful expression faltered at the sight but Nikolai only grinned wider, patting Damyen on the shoulder before standing and holding a hand out to catch the rain.

“Don’t let her dampen your spirits,” he called sagely over the rumble, and it took a good amount of self control not to smite him on the spot. Nikolai flashed a thumbs-up at the boy before jogging over to the spot where Zoya stood, arms crossed and glaring. He clasped her hand in his, opening his mouth to speak.

“Not one word,” she warned. “Not a single pun or I will have Tolya read you every Ravkan epic in existence while dangling you off the palace roof.”

“No puns,” he promised. “For now. I only ask that perhaps you let the sun shine through-”

“I will not sugarcoat my instructions for whatever reason.”

“The storm, my dear,” he said gently. “Not your teaching methods. We’re nearly soaked through.”

She glanced towards his dripping sleeves and the damp fabric of her own kefta. “Fine,” Zoya muttered grudgingly, raising her free hand to call away the storm and let the clouds fade to fog. “But enough of this foolery. I can’t have Damyen running around being able to summon lightning and having no idea how to wrangle it. He has to learn.”

“And he will. Let me work my magic and I’ll have him perfectly eager to learn to control his.”

“Without the puns.”

“With slightly less puns?” He asked, brow knit together as if the fate of his jokes were a matter of life and death.

Zoya frowned, but Nikolai’s pleading look wore away at her and she sighed. “Slightly less puns.”

His eyes lit up and he beamed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

“Oh, I will,” she remarked drily. “But perhaps not enough to shock you again if you can manage the walking fire hazard.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” He bowed theatrically before turning and running back to Damyen with a ridiculous grin on his face, sunlight gilding his hair and shining in his gaze; his form so full of light that she couldn’t help but smile.

“Nikolai,” she called after him.

He turned, cocking his head. “Nazyalensky? Is everything alright?”

Zoya closed her eyes, sighing deeply. She opened her palm, summoning the smallest thundercloud, letting raindrops pool in her outstretched hand. “Right as rain, Lantsov.”

He laughed, and the sound, golden and unrestrained and bright, was worth every joke she’d ever have to endure.

#zoyalai #i am an idiot #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #horrible puns terrible puns #nikolai duology #grishaverse #tortoise tries to write #me

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beewolfwrites · 4 years ago

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An Iron Box - Disquiet

@cheshiya @tenseoyong @szallejhscorner @something-more-original-please @ofsunsetsandpoetries @nek0dzuken @allozaur @serenzippity @hiqhkey

Hello again! I took a little longer on this one because I know it was a favourite for so many of you. It was supposed to be posted earlier today, but here we are anyway!

The AO3 link is here if you want it - and as always, you can find all the chapters/stories/links on top of my Tumblr.

Thanks so much for all your support. You’re all wonderful, and I know I’ve said this before, but it means a lot :D

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Admittedly, there were very few times in my life where I had been injured. As a boy, I never climbed trees with friends - or even had friends for that matter - and therefore never broken a bone. I never played football at school. I had never been stupid enough to fall down stairs, or get into a car accident. And surprisingly, nor had I ever been beaten up by thugs for saying the wrong thing.

The only time I had ever suffered a true injury was during my first year of medical school. We had been working in pairs as we dissected a cadaver, and my partner, a ridiculous boy who should’ve chosen another career path, was particularly squeamish. I asked him to hand me a scalpel, and without thinking or looking, he passed the wrong end to me. My hand closed around the blade. An intense wave of pain overcame me, and I dropped it with a clatter onto the lab floor. My partner turned white when he realised what he’d done, although I was more bothered by the fact that we were made to clean all the blood off the vinyl.

That pain paled in comparison to this.

Sitting on the edge my bed, I unzipped my hoodie and opened up the first-aid kit that I’d swiped from An’s medical room. I gritted my teeth as I inspected the bandages wrapped tightly around my midsection. Blood was spotted across the white, and the dressing underneath was tinged with yellow stains. They needed changing as soon as possible. If the wound became infected, there wasn’t much I could do in this world.

I began rooting through the first-aid kit, having pulled out a section of gauze when footsteps thudded from down the hall, followed by shouts. As always, I ignored it. It was probably someone running away from the militants.

And then my door burst open.

I recognised that familiar figure as she slammed it shut behind her, leaning and panting against the wood. Then her gaze focused, dipping from my face to my bandages as she realised where she was.

Not you. Not now.

‘Get out.’

She flinched, but didn’t leave. ‘Are you okay?’

Clearly not.

‘I didn’t say you could come in here. Get out.’

Her eyes glossed over, and she shook her head. My irritation was growing with every second that passed, and I would’ve physically kicked her out the door if not for the teasing call that sounded from the halls.

‘Come on out Shorty, and maybe we can finish what we started. Wouldn’t that be fun?’

Niragi. Why did that idiot have to cause me so much trouble? And that nickname - Shorty - was barely accurate. (Name) wasn’t even that short - the shorter side of average height, perhaps. But more pressingly, Niragi would knock on my door soon enough, and if he found her…

‘Get under the bed and don’t make a sound.’ When she didn’t move, I added, ‘Unless you’d rather be caught by him?’

The message was received, as she reluctantly moved from the door and sank to the floor. I suddenly noticed she was carrying that old copy of Wuthering Heights I’d left in her room. I quite enjoyed the thought that she might have been translating it before she ran into trouble, but the enjoyment was cut short by the awkward sight of her clambering and kicking her way under the bed with one hand. Her head narrowly missed the bed frame, but she managed to slide further beneath the bed, totally out of sight.

Perfect timing too, as a fist battered on the door. Pulling on my hoodie, I gave the bed a last once-over.

Unless you stay silent, even I can’t help you.

Outside, Niragi was leaning against the frame, a sneer pulling at his lips. It was hard not to smile at dark purple bruise ringing his eye, and those angry red scabs running along his cheek. She had really done a number on him.

I cut him off before he could speak. ‘Don’t waste your time, she’s not in here.’

‘Oh? If you know why I’m here, then she must be in here.’

‘Has it occurred to you that the entire Beach can hear you shouting and causing a fuss?’

He adjusted his rifle with a click, pointing the barrel in my face. I glanced down at it and smiled. He didn’t like that.

‘Oi, don’t even think about pissing me off,’ he hissed. ‘I know she’s in here. She’s your little pal, and she disappeared right around your room.’

In spite of how he acted, Niragi actually wasn’t stupid. If anything, his intelligence was second to mine, and convincing him wouldn’t be easy. Sighing, I stood back from the door. ‘You can come in and see for yourself if you want. But there’s no point.’

He pushed his way in and breezed around the room for a good minute or so, checking the bathroom, behind the shower curtain, my closet, under the curtains, every corner and nook. And yet he forgot the most obvious place.

His searching came to nothing, although he didn’t seem too bothered. And only when he smiled confidently did I become suspicious. ‘I guess it doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘I’ll see your friend again soon enough, and next time she won’t get far.’

He left, and only then did I start to think over his words.

He’s planned something.

He would corner her when she’s alone, and the best time for that? During a game. It would be easy for Niragi to slip into the meeting room and rearrange the groups, just like I did. After all, her visa expired tonight.

When did I start keeping tabs?

Although Niragi was long gone, (Name) had yet to emerge. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. ‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t stay there all day.’

There was a series of scuffles as she slid out by my feet, still clutching the book in one hand.

‘You can’t hide from him forever.’

She sat beside me on the bed, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to inch closer to her or move away. She muttered a small, ‘I know,’ while flicking between the pages of her book.

‘You know you can leave.’

‘I know that too.’ Her eyes dropped to my injured side. ’Why don’t I help you? You know, with…’

No. It was bad enough she knew about it. Having her pity on top of that was even worse. ‘I don’t need your help.’

Her fingers tightened around the book, but she was annoyingly persistent. ‘Fine then, you can guide me. It can be like a lesson, since I’m more likely to get injured in a game than you. If I know the basics, I won’t need your help again like I did in the pharmacy that time.’

Ah, I get it.

She’d been rescued by me a number of times. And now, the thought that she owed me - the person she disliked - her life, was eating her alive.

‘In other words, you feel guilty,’ I said. ‘And now you’re trying to convince me to let you repay me in some way.’

‘Maybe... Is it working?’

Not in the slightest.

She didn’t truly want to be here. She had no genuine interest in helping me, I knew that. And yet, I didn’t quite want her to leave yet.

‘I suppose if Niragi shoots you, you could patch it up rather than coming to me.’ I gestured towards a small decorative bowl on the bedside table, and the kettle I always kept in the corner. ’You need to fill that up with water. Boil a kettle to sterilise it first.’

She tossed the book to the side and leapt off the bed, grinning. ‘You won’t regret this, I promise!’

I don’t want your empty promises.

Darting around the room, she took the kettle and filled it using the bathroom tap. Then leaving it to boil, she disappeared back into the bathroom again. For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of rushing water, before she called out through the door, ‘What can I use to dry my hands? Your towels are too germy.’

Germy? Is she suggesting that I don’t do my laundry?

‘My towels are always clean.’ I reached behind me for a box of latex gloves, also stolen from the medical room. ‘And there are gloves here, so it doesn’t make any difference.’

I got a head-start unwrapping the stained bandages and dressing. It wouldn’t do to have her messing with it and causing even more damage. When she reentered, I held out the box of gloves. She eyed the wound on my side but didn’t say anything, instead busying herself by pouring the boiled water into the bowl to sterilise it.

‘We’re using water to clean it?’ she asked. ‘In the pharmacy you used antiseptic first.’

‘Ah…’ Back then, in that icy cold pharmacy, I hadn’t cared about her discomfort. But rather, I’d intentionally tried to provoke her, just to see how much she could stomach. ‘That’s because I didn’t have water or saline,’ I said, watching her vanish into the bathroom to pour the water away. ‘And also because I was curious about something.’

‘And what was that?’

She returned once again with cool water this time. The bowl balanced on her knees, she came to sit close beside me on the bed. Closer than I had expected. I could feel her every breath ghosting my skin. At one time, I would’ve immediately stood up and walked away, but now, I was trapped.

‘I wanted to see whether you would cry.’

For the briefest second, she looked like she could cry right then and there. ‘And did I pass your little test?’

‘Well… you didn’t cry,’ I said. ‘Although you bit your hand instead, which was just as stupid.’

There was a harsh snap of latex on skin as she jammed on a pair of gloves. ‘You know, calling me stupid is the same as calling me an idiot. And you were the one who said I was intelligent enough to be useful when you brought me to the Beach.’

Taking a sterile cloth from the first-aid kit, she stripped away its packaging and dampened it in the water. Every movement was hesitant and instinctive, and I felt a barely-there pressure as she dabbed the cloth on the wound. The water was freezing, and it was impossible not to tense whenever a thin latex fingertip brushed my skin. The strange, intimate silence was uncomfortable, even for me.

‘That’s true,’ I said. ‘And yet you don’t know how to treat a basic injury.’

She smirked. ‘I know how to treat an injury. But I don’t know how to do it properly, and it’s not like we have much modern medicine here to help us.’ Her hand stilled as she contemplated something. ’It’s also because I’m not especially smart.’

Is she fishing for compliments? Typical.

‘My brother is a psychologist,’ she explained. ‘He once said to me that being smart doesn’t make you intelligent.’

‘That was smart of him,’ I said.

She hummed, the corner of her mouth lifting into a bitter smile. ‘He is smart. My dad never made him feel that way though. He always said my brother wasn’t cut out for psychology. He went and proved him wrong.’

It was difficult to concentrate on her words. I was acutely aware that I was in a state of undress, and she was close enough that I could see the lamplight shining on her hair. Every time she dabbed at the dried blood, her skin almost met mine, but just grazed out of reach. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all.

‘But my brother was right about what he said,’ she continued. ‘A smart person might know how to treat a wound because they’ve studied it. They’ll study loads of subjects and gain a lot of practical skills. They ace all the exams because they remember all the answers.’

Truth be told, I wasn’t sure why she was still talking. I didn’t really care about how she or her brother defined intelligence, but she seemed happy discussing her brother, and it was easier to let her keep going than interrupt.

‘But being intelligent means questioning the answers,’ she insisted, ‘looking at things differently… and when you don’t know something, you’ll find a solution that’s completely outside of the box.’

She briefly paused, checking to make sure I was listening. I was half-listening.

‘Take the Borderlands for example. A smart person would say that it can’t be God who’s behind all of this craziness, because God doesn’t exist. We’ve seen outer space, and it’s not rational to think that there’s a God out there sitting on the clouds. But an intelligent person would know that even if we can’t prove God exists, we also can’t prove that God doesn’t exist. So, they’ll consider every possibility at once.’

I couldn’t argue with her explanation. She had obviously given the topic some thought, and even I could see that while she lacked common sense at times, she was certainly more than capable of seeing the bigger picture to a problem once she overcame her own fears. But there was one other thing I wanted to know.

‘And what about me? Would you pin me as smart or intelligent?’

Her gloved hand froze for a second. She avoided my eyes, and took her time rinsing the reddened cloth. ‘Probably a crazy mixture of both. Sometimes, I wish I knew what’s going on in your head. Only, I can’t read you at all. It scares me.’

‘Everything scares you.’

‘Okay, okay. Let’s not go there.’

When the cold cloth touched my skin once more, I felt the slight brush of her fingers, and couldn’t refrain from flinching. ‘That’s enough. The water’s freezing.’

‘An eye for an eye. Consider it repayment for trying to make me cry.’ She dropped the cloth back into the pink water.

And then she smiled.

It was hard not to stare at a smile like that, and even I was caught out. Unlike her usual distrust, this was genuine. This was real. And for the first time, it was directed at—

‘I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.’

Pathetic. I was just as pathetic as those drunken players outside. Only, I wasn’t trapped in a haze of alcohol, I was trapped right here, in front of a woman who would never truly look at me like that. She would never sing.

All I could do was smile back, with a ‘touché’.

I talked her through the correct amount of antibiotic ointment, and of course, she used a little too much. I tried to push away the uncomfortable sensation of her gloved fingers against my side, the warmth of her so extraordinarily close, yet cut off. It was for the best that she did not return these emotions. After all, I had no intention of sinking to her level with her fairy-tale romances and gemstones.

Yes. It was for the best.

‘You never told me why you wanted to make me cry,’ she said suddenly, looking around at the first-aid supplies.

I gestured to a dressing. 'I wanted to gauge whether you would survive in a world like this.’

Peeling off the packaging, she positioned the dressing over my skin. ‘I thought that much. I’ve survived so far. Isn’t that enough?’

Silly girl.

She was so engrossed by pressing the sticky sides down properly, she didn’t notice when I raised two fingers and flicked her on the forehead. Her eyes, wide and confused, silently demanded an explanation as she rubbed her head with the back of her wrist.

‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘It’s only enough when you get to return to the real world. And you’re still too naïve. No wonder Niragi’s made you into such an easy target.’

She pulled a face. ‘What do you think he meant before?’

I could’ve told her what Niragi had planned, but there was no point in scaring her now. So long as she kept her wits about her, she would be fine. And besides, Niragi couldn’t just go sacrificing Beach members left, right and centre for nothing. If he did, there would be nobody left. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t injure, rape or leave her for dead - it certainly wouldn’t be unusual for someone like him.

‘I have a theory, but it’s almost game time,’ I told her. ‘Your visa expires tonight.’

I realised my slip-up a little too late, but aside from a raised brow, she didn’t question how I knew about her visa. Regardless, I had an excuse prepared; Kuina’s visa was the same. She quietly thanked me for letting her hide under my bed, and tucking her book under one arm, finally left.

Later that evening as I stood by (name’s) side in the hotel lobby, it came as no surprise to see Niragi staring pointedly at us from across the crowded room.

‘そのテーザーをあるか?’ I asked her. Do you have that taser?

She tensed immediately as she clocked onto our observer, and whispered, ‘I have it.’

‘Good. Once you get to the game venue, make sure you stay away from him. Do what you have to if you want to survive.’

What am I doing, giving out advice like this?

It was uncharacteristic, to the point that even she noticed. ‘How come you’re helping me?’

I ignored the question, partially because I didn’t want her to know why and partially because I only vaguely knew myself. ‘You should go. The games will start soon.’

And then I left her there. She was clearly terrified, but as for whether or not I stayed while she found her assigned car, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Once the car left the hotel and she disappeared into the games with him, the situation was beyond my control. It was entirely out of my grasp. And as I climbed the stairs back to my room, a strange disquiet rooted itself deep within me, calling out stronger and stronger with every step I took.

'The iron box begins to rise up, nice and slow, toward the surface of the sea.’

For the first time, this disquiet drowned out the silence that had become so familiar.

#alice in borderland #chishiya alice in Borderland #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #aib

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yukipri · 4 years ago

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Marco’s Bauble Part 8 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Another update for Tumblr!

This work goes by On the Courtship of Monkey D. Luffy on AO3, and I’ll be updating over there tonight as well!

A quick question....do people like reading the updates here on Tumblr? Or now that it’s on AO3, would people prefer to read there? And if so, would you be okay waiting for new updates until AO3 catches up? I’m a little torn because I’m not sure if people are enjoying reading on here, and it’s quite a hassle to format for Tumblr, and it’s getting a bit difficult for me to juggle updating these stories on 3 separate platforms...

ANYWAY, in this update, Thatch has some Thoughts, and there is mention of Ace x Luffy.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 3

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 4

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 5

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 6

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 7

What are her 3 sizes?

(For the wedding dress, of course.)

"The fuck! Like I'd tell you!" Thatch roars, startling the blue gull into momentarily leaping off the rail, before it circles back, landing again to peck at his sleeve to express its displeasure. Thatch ignores it, because he's fuming.

So apparently all of his and Koala's secret debates over whether Marco intentionally proposed or not were for naught, because here's the fucking evidence. And it comes from Izo of all people, because Thatch would recognize that lopsided handwriting anywhere (the man insists that his handwriting is beautiful in his native language of Wano, but he never quite got used to writing any other way).

And well, if Izo, an unrelated third party but professional snooper knows, then Marco himself must know.

And apparently, they're already planning a wedding.

Thatch feels like an idiot. He'd been defending Marco against Koala, and the lil Revolutionary was a tough opponent, one he'd had to chase out of the kitchen with a ladle more than once when he was tired of her word games. Thatch had insisted, like a fool, that no Marco's not that kind of guy, he really isn't the type to play with people's emotions, he would never propose for a joke, nor would he do it seriously without good reason. It must all be an accident, a little misunderstanding, Marco was just ignorant like Thatch himself was!

Except, apparently he did know and it wasn't an accident, and now Thatch feels completely lost because he doesn't know what Marco's thinking at all. Marco, who's not just his his first friend on the Moby, but arguably his best friend; Marco, his brother over several decades; Marco, who Thatch thought he knew better than anyone, except perhaps Pops himself...

Thatch's also pissed, because if Marco wants to start drama after they all reunite and he's introduced to Luffy, that's one thing (not that that would be great either). But right now, they're still near the beginning of Paradise with almost half the circumference of the world to go until even the halfway point, and Marco is WAY on the other side of the Red Line. If this ship explodes in flames or whatever that batshit Revolutionary brother might do, Mister First Division Commander is completely unaffected, but there are plenty of innocents here (like hello! Thatch!) who would find that pretty devastating.

Also, Thatch was the one who passed on that gift to Luffy! Even if he didn't know what it meant at the time...doesn't that make Thatch complicit? And even if not, Marco's strongest connection here is clearly Thatch. If Marco's actions cause chaos, then the blame and responsibility to clean up the mess naturally falls upon Thatch. Which, he definitely did not sign up for.

Pops, Thatch thinks miserably, I thought I was supposed to show them they can depend on us Whitebeards, NOT that us Whitebeards will fuck shit up for them...

But more than anything, there's a shocking large part of Thatch that absolutely balks at just the idea of Luffy getting married. And it's shocking because Thatch shouldn't feel this upset.

Marco, for all the complaints Thatch wants to hurl at him at the moment, is still a really great guy. A guy who, in literally any other situation, Thatch would be the first in line to enthusiastically encourage, and also to congratulate.

And sure, Thatch knows he has a crush, and his little Seastar's carving out a larger home for herself in his heart by the day, but--Thatch admittedly has crushes a lot. Sure, this one feels different, but...Marco, to his knowledge, has never had a romantic crush. He only sometimes but very rarely even has a night out, and Thatch doesn't think he's ever held a relationship longer than three encounters. He's always so serious, so diligent, so sincerely and whole-heartedly dedicated to Pops and his family. He almost never does anything selfish for himself, and Thatch would know.

If, for whatever reason, Marco is genuinely serious about Luffy...then Thatch should, and would, step to the side, regardless of personal feelings. If this is the path Marco wants, then he deserves it, and Thatch will always be the first to say it, no matter how craptastic the circumstances. And Thatch knows that Marco would give his bride the world.

Without them even having met, Thatch doesn't doubt for a second that Marco would make Luffy happy, till the end of her days.

The fact that Thatch knows all this, yet still feels near unbearable reluctance...says more than he's willing to admit.

And so he decides to avoid thinking about the most obvious reason (his own feelings), and instead contemplates his second very compelling reason: Ace.

His littlest brother isn't so great at being honest with himself, and never has. But this, Thatch feels, isn't just a matter of denial.

The boy literally has no clue.

Oh sure, Ace knows he loves his little brother. He makes sure everyone else knows it too, both here on the Merry and back on the Moby once he opened up enough to talk to people. He's so damn proud of her, yet also concerned for her, while also trusting her with his life and more. It's clear to anyone who sees them together that he absolutely adores her.

But it's more than that, isn't it, Thatch thinks. It's in the little gestures, the way Ace raises his arm up without looking at her and she slides under it, also without needing to look at him. It's the casual way they lace their fingers together, like it's nothing, when they're snoozing out on the deck. It's the way sometimes they have unspoken conversations, just staring into each others eyes, before moving forward in synch to meet in the middle to bump their foreheads together in some secret mutual understanding.

It's the reason why Sanji, for all his extravagant flirting, knows when to shut up and return to being a normal human (and, Thatch grudgingly admits, this applies to himself too). It's why Zoro never lets his gaze linger more than two seconds longer than it needs to (but he'll always take those two seconds), why Nami always looks like she wants to sit closer but doesn't, why Koala hasn't said anything when she's probably usually a much more proactive flirter.

Everyone on their crew can see it, except the two in question.

Ace, Thatch thinks, heaving a huge sigh as he looks down at the crumpled note from Izo in his palm. Little brother, you are so fucking in love.

It might not necessarily be romantically. It's certainly not particularly sexually, if Ace's lack of reaction to Lu's aggressive physical smothering is any indication. It could very possibly be platonically.

But either way, there's no room for Sanji, nor Zoro, nor the girls, nor even Thatch himself...at least, until those two figure that out.

Until then, everyone aboard the Merry is here because they love and respect their captains. No one would dare encroach on something so special, yet so potentially immature, not yet ready to be dragged out to be recognized.

Thatch knows Ace has known Luffy for years, he practically raised her. But he was also away at sea for three years. Luffy was a child when he left; she's an adult now.

Thatch once asked him if she had changed at all since he last saw her (Ace most certainly had, according to Deuce). And Ace looked blank, then horribly confused, before saying No...but also, yeah, I guess. Thatch understands; Ace isn't used to not knowing something about Luffy. And something...something had changed.

That something might very well be the thing that needs to be figured out. And for that, Ace hasn't had much time yet, since reuniting with Luffy. Only as much time as the rest of them, in fact. And they deserve time to figure that out, and as the two captains' loving crew, the ASL pirates have an unsaid agreement to watch over them...at least until they have.

(After that, Thatch thinks grimly, it might be open game.)

But of course, there's also the question of Luffy herself, and as much as she's the heart of the ASL Pirates, she's also an enigma. Thatch, for all that he adores her and honestly wants more with her, genuinely has a hard time imagining her as anything but clueless as someone's romantic partner (he's carefully not thinking about anything sexual). It very well may be that the whole "figuring out" that she and Ace have to do...ends up being nothing. And that's fine as well.

Either way, as much as Thatch loves him, there's no way that any of them here on board the Merry will stand to let Marco shatter this delicate...whatever it is that's going on between their captains, that the rest of them are so patiently respecting. Even if it ends up continuing indefinitely.

As strained as it can feel at times, they're comfortable like this. There's the little spark of joy when Seastar gives him a little extra attention, a little burn when Sanji kisses her hand, but comfort in the stability that no one will go any further. If anything it's a nice little spice to their daily lives, just the right amount, and not enough ruin the dish so to speak. This is fine.

Except, that there's just one teeny little problem...

"What did the blue gull bring you today, Commander?"

Thatch doesn't jump, because he's not an amateur and did realize that the Revolutionary was approaching, but perhaps later than he should have. Damn the kid's good at hiding his presence, and Thatch wonders if he'd have noticed at all if Sabo was being serious.

"Just a stupid request from a stupid brother," Thatch says cheerfully as he turns around to face Sabo. The boy isn't even trying to hide his curiosity, his gaze pinned to Thatch's hand.

Thatch contemplates chucking the letter into the sea, but then he realizes he isn't sure Sabo wouldn't just dive after it, and as a devil fruit user, Thatch wouldn't be able to stop him from reading it underwater.

So he casually uncurls his fingers, watches Sabo visibly perk up--before Thatch opens a black hole in his palm, letting the crumpled paper get sucked into the void.

(Perhaps he should be using his power as more than a secure second dimension pocket expansion, but hey, so far it hasn't been so helpful in the kitchen.)

Sabo sags and sulks, rather cutely, Thatch thinks. "You coulda let me see it," he pouts, looking up at Thatch with an expression uncannily like Luffy's. Fuck.

"Collecting intel, Chief?" Thatch winks, expertly hiding his horror that for a moment, he'd actually been tempted. Little sneak.

"Perhaps." Something slightly manic enters his gaze, and alright, that's nothing like Seastar, not so cute after all...

"Nice try, but it's a personal family thing, can't really share," Thatch says, and it's not really a lie.

Sabo grunts, letting it go, before his gaze flicks to the gull, who still has a beakful of Thatch's sleeve. "It waiting for something?"

Thatch sighs. "Yeah, yeah, my response, which I should probably give..." Because, right, Thatch needs to send a message back to the Moby, even if no, he isn't going to answer Izo's idiotic question.

Which, is actually a fine excuse to extract himself from this situation.

"So, sorry, the response also is personal, hope you don't mind," Thatch nods, and Sabo easily opens the way for him--which, Thatch belatedly realizes, he'd actually been blocking. Scary, little Chief, scary...

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry." Sabo sounds genuinely apologetic, and tips his hat at Thatch as he passes by, and Thatch inwardly heaves a massive sigh of relief. "I'm working on it, but I know I can get a little...pushy, when it comes to things that involve my baby brother."

Thatch continues to walk away.

But inside...

Oh. Yikes, he thinks.

Thatch is in the privacy of the currently empty men's sleeping room beneath the deck, and has just finished writing and giving instructions and bribes to the gull when the hatch creaks open.

"Thatch, we're in trouble," Koala announces as she stomps down the stairs, making her sneaky opening of the door rather pointless.

"I noticed," Thatch says dryly.

Koala pales. "He didn't break any of your toes, did he?!"

"What."

"Well, you're a cook, you make food Luffy likes with your hands," Koala shrugs. "Just wanted to make sure."

"What the fuck."

"I don't think he will! You're Luffy and Ace's crew, and you're a Whitebeard pirate, but..."

Thatch groans. "I already thought your Chief might be trouble, but holy shit I didn't know he was that batshit."

"He might not be!" Koala sounds defensive, but it's not particularly comforting. "He's usually reasonable, kind of, but since his memories came back..."

Thatch throws up his arms. "So, how'd he get it out of you?"

Koala flushes. "I didn't say anything!"

"Sure."

"It's not my fault that Sabo's a damn--!"

There's a loud knock, before the hatch flings open, and Ace pops his head in. "Hey Thatch! What's for snack--"

"NOT AGAIN!" Koala cries.

At the same time, Thatch shouts, "IN A SECOND!"

Either way, the hatch slams shut with a, "SORRY!"

Thatch and Koala stare at each other with their hearts beating uncomfortably rapidly.

They slowly heave a slow sigh of relief as the tension drains.

"I really need to apologize to Ace," Thatch mutters.

"I really need to work on my Observation Haki," Koala groans.

"HEY THATCH, I WANT A SNACK," Luffy shouts, and Thatch and Koala's heads whip around in horror, only to sag with relief at seeing that Luffy's not in the room, but only for a second--

--because after that second, a mermaid's crashing through the hatch, ripping it from its hinges as she slams, hatch and all, into Thatch's chest.

The room fills with dust and debris, and there are shouts outside.

Koala gingerly peers into the wreckage where Thatch is now buried in the wall, a terrified blue gull perched on her shoulders peering alongside her, its claws digging through the fabric of her shirt.

"We're fine," Thatch coughs, peering down to make sure he'd successfully caught and shielded Luffy from damage, even as he peels himself from the wood. Luffy seems unharmed, though her eyes are wide; she clearly hadn't expected to do quite this much.

"...Armament?" Koala asks, noticing how the back of Thatch's hair is black from where it's fanned around him.

"Armament," Thatch agrees, keeping the entire back of his body coated until he's safely pulled himself and Luffy, still in his arms, away from any sharp wood.

"Sorry, Thatch," Luffy says, not particularly apologetic, if anything sort of curious. She peels herself back from his chest, scritching her cheek while looking down at what was once the hatch to the mens room that had shattered between them. She then reaches back to tug at Thatch's black locks, and oohs when they fade back to auburn.

"No worries, just make sure to make it up to Deuce and Usopp when they have to fix this," Thatch sighs, before grinning, letting his arms fall away from Luffy once he knows she has a secure grip on his shoulders. He then begins carding his fingers through her hair to make sure no splinters got in, and likewise dusting off the front of her vest, taking care not to let his touch linger. Luffy nods frantic agreement, more like rubs her head into his palm, and Thatch feels his heart skip a beat.

Koala sighs.

"Hey Thatch, what's this?"

Thatch blinks, then inwardly curses.

Luffy's holding Izo's crumpled piece of paper. His control of his power's still shoddy, and it must have accidentally spat it back out in the commotion.

Please, don't be able to read that, he prays. He luckily doesn't have much confidence in Luffy's reading abilities.

"It says 'what are her three sizes.' What are those?"

In the background, Koala slowly raises her fist.

A few days later, Marco's scouting when a blue gull rapidly approaches him.

Delivery! it squawks. Delivery for you, Boss, and don't show Izo! Don't show Izo! Don't show Izo or the bread man will be mad!

Thank you, noted, friend, Marco responds, and catches the note from Thatch in mid air.

The gull trills acknowledgement, then wheels away to rejoin its brethren, while Marco changes course for the nearest island, a safe forest haven in Pops's territory, still a ways away from the Moby. It's uninhabited, save for the wildlife, and it would be good to land once before returning home anyway.

Marco lands lightly on the tallest and oldest tree on the island, from where he can survey the island of pure greenery, and the endless blue stretching beyond. The branch he's chosen looks deceptively thin, but he already knows it can support his human weight, which is why he shifts, passing the note from his claw to his hand before completing his transformation.

Marco frowns. The other Commanders (and to be honest, the entire crew) have been acting a bit strange recently, but for Thatch, who isn't even on board with them, to also be in on it...

True, this may or may not be related to that at all. But still.

Marco feels like he's missing something.

Marco, Thatch's message starts, and Marco already knows it's going to be serious because it didn't start with a jibe at his appearance.

Marco, I think I'm actually serious about her. Thoughts, brother?

Her, meaning the Ace's little brother, the mermaid girl.

If Marco remembers correctly, in Thatch's first note back to him, he'd written, She's stolen my heart, I think I want to marry her.

Marco had assumed Thatch was joking at the time, or just light-heartedly flirting, as he always did. Marco's used to hearing Thatch spew these kinds of words, and he'd taken it to mean that the girl's exceptionally Thatch's type, but hadn't thought further.

The words had made him remember a little trinket he'd had stored in a chest at the back of his closet, one he'd received from an elderly couple on Fishman Island around two decades ago...

But that's not important now, Marco thinks, focussing on Thatch's message.

In all his years of flings and casual relationships and jokingly asking ladies (and some gents) Won't you marry me...Thatch has not once asked for Marco's opinion. He's certainly had plenty of opinions himself about whether someone would be a potential good match for Marco, which Marco always ignored. But Thatch has never asked Marco about matches for himself.

Thatch really is serious.

Marco finds himself slowly smiling. "Finally, you sap," he murmurs, though no one hears him but the other birds in the trees around him.

He knows he ought to think more about what to say, but the answer is so obvious that Marco takes Thatch's note, and carefully tears the paper so that his brother's words aren't damaged. Gently tucking Thatch's note into his pocket, Marco pulls out a pen for the remaining small blank strip of paper.

Shortly afterwards, two birds depart from the island, in opposite directions: one, a phoenix, wings burning cyan against the clear skies, and the other, a blue gull headed to Paradise.

Part 9, things start Moving as Sabo confronts Ace.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! And again, please do let me know if you actually like reading the story here on tumblr or not >.<;

As always, any comments are immensely appreciated and help motivate me to create more for this AU! ;A;

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #Text headcanons #Thatch #AceLu #genderbend #I'm feeling really burned out in terms of posting schedule as expected #juggling Patreon-Tumblr-Twitter-AO3 is a bit much #so I'm trying to decide what's going on the chopping block bc rn it's my sanity ^ ^;

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years ago

Note

Hello there! I hope you’re having a lovely day. Any chance you’d write a fake dating story with Tom?

That Day in the Rain

Synopsis: Tom lies and tells Haz you’re his girlfriend, who tells the world

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

I have added the “keep reading” tab a thousand times and it won’t stay I am so sorry

“Before I say anything, I’d like you to think about how much you love me.” Tom said once you opened your door to him.

“God, what the hell did you do?” You asked him with wide eyes.

“And how much I love you.” Tom continued as if you never interrupted.

“Is there a body?” You whispered harshly. “Are you making me an accessory?”

“And most importantly”, Tom went on with a boop on your nose, “think about all the times you told me you’d do anything for me.”

“Oh my God, he’s killed someone.” You groaned and gave your hair a stressful tug.

“This is one of those times.” Tom went on as if you weren’t talking.

“Who was it? A stranger? Harry? Jake?” You badgered. “Tom, please tell me you did not kill Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“I didn’t kill anyone! Why is that your first guess anyway?” Tom sounded almost insulted. “I just need a small, teeny tiny favor.” He said as he pinched his fingers together.

“What might that be?” You folded your arms.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” Tom said in a rushed voice.

“You need me to what?” Your voice dropped.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” Tom repeated, whining a little in the adorable way that he did. “Just for a little while.”

“Have you been staying up on tumblr again?” You raised an eyebrow. “You want to have a fake relationship? That is so Harry Styles x yourname, it’s unbelievable.”

“I haven’t.” Tom promised. “It’s just, the paparazzi took a picture of us Lady and the Tramp-ing that Kit Kat last week, so rumors have been off the charts. And then today, Haz and I were having you know a discussion over who’s braver and what not. He said he was because I couldn’t even ask a girl out, to which I replied, “I damn well could”, which we both know-“

“-you cant.” You cut in.

“I can’t. Exactly!” Tom excitedly agreed. “But I wasn’t about to let him win and he just kept teasing me over it so I snapped and “you know why I can’t ask girls out? I have a girlfriend.”, which we both know-“

“-you don’t.” You finished his thought.

“I know!” Tom exclaimed. “But he was really getting to me and I panicked. So he went, “oh yeah? Who?” all macho,” Tom imitated Haz’s voice in a buff manner, “and I started to panic right because I don’t actually have a girlfriend so I was just gonna say a random name but yours was the first that came to my head and I said it.”

“If it’s just Haz, why can’t you tell him you were kidding?” You asked.

“Because he started saying how he knew it all along and I was an idiot to think people didn’t know we were together.” Tom said sheepishly, taking sudden interest in the floor.

“But we’re not.” You stated.

“Apparently everyone thinks we are.” Tom scratched the back of his neck. “So of course, he told Harry who told Sam who told my entire extended family and now my mom is asking me about grandkids and I don’t know what to do!” Tom said in one breath. His eyes were full of panic and you knew he was beginning to spiral.

“Okay, okay.” You said soothingly and put your hands on his cheeks. He immediately stopped panicking and softened his eyes. “Don’t panic. Your family thinks we’re together, so what? We can pretend we’re dating for a little bit and then have a fake mutual break up. No big deal.”

“My mom wants you and your parents to come over for a family dinner tomorrow. Is that too much too soon?” Tom asked, bringing his hands up to your wrists and rubbing soft circles into them.

“Well, we have only been dating for about three minutes.” You joked.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we won’t do it. I’m okay with the years of embarrassment and ridicule I’ll have to deal with if you won’t pretend to be my girlfriend.” Tom sighed dramatically and drummed his fingers on your wrist. You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips.

“Just one dinner?” You held up on finger.

“Just one dinner.” Tom held up a finger and touched it to yours. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, boyfriend.” You emphasized the last word, much to his amusement.

Tom picked you up, spinning you around and kissing your cheeks.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Tom squealed and set you down.

You prepared for the dinner like it was a final at school. You and Tom rehearsed the facts, well, fiction.

“We could say I first kissed you that one time my car broke down in the rain and we had to wait for the mechanic. Remember that?” Tom suggested with a shy smile as you drove to his parents house.

“I remember. We stood in that rain for hours because someone locked their keys in the car.” You laughed at the memory from the passenger seat.

“Well someone was distracted because someone else looked really pretty with raindrops in their hair.” Tom defended. You gave him a bright smile before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“What was that for?” Tom chuckled.

“Just practicing. We have to be convincing, don’t we?” You shrugged as Tom pulled into the driveway. He kept his hand on your back as you walked up the walkway.

“We should probably hold hands. You know, for effect.” Tom suggested with pink cheeks.

You shyly slipped your hand into his as he rang the bell. Tom gave you an assuring squeeze.

“Tom! Y/n! Come in! Everyone’s here!” Nikki smiled as she opened the door. You walked inside, hand in hand and made your way to the table. Tom pulled your seat out for you and let you sit. You gave him a ridiculous smile as you sat down, finding it hilarious that your awkward-around-girls best friend was now pulling your seat out for you like a proper gentlemen. Everyone sat around the table, and the games began.

“So, Y/n, how long have you and Tom been together?” Dom asked, making polite conversation right away.

“A year.” You answered.

“Four months.” Tom said at the same time. You and him exchanged a look of panic before plastering on fake smiles.

“A year and four months.” You nodded, and everyone excepted it.

“You’ve been together for over a year and you never told us?” Your mom cut in.

“They didn’t have to. It’s not like everyone didn’t already know.” Dom laughed, and you and Tom let out fake laughs as a response.

“What do you mean?” You said through your fake laughter. You squeezed Toms leg under the table and gave him a scared look.

“Well, Tom talks about you all the time. I feel like I know everything about you, just from what he’s said. It’s funny, almost. He was never good in school because he couldn’t memorize facts, and yet he knows every detail about you like the back of his hand. I’ve never seen my son so enthralled as he is by you. He’d give you the damn world if you asked for it.” Dom quipped before taking a sip of his wine.

“Haha, very funny dad.” Tom said through a clenched smile. You furrowed your brows at the news.

“I’m not being funny. I was so happy when Sam told us you were an item because I know you’ve wanted it for so long. I’m proud of you, Tom. You’re really going after your dreams.” Dom said with a raise of his glass.

“Thanks, dad.” Tom said in a more sincere tone, feeling a little guilty for not being able to make his dad proud.

“What about you? Did Y/n keep it a secret that long from you too?” Nikki asked your parents.

“Oh dear.” You gulped. Tom sensed your fear and took your hand, under the table. You found it a little odd, since you were trying to fake a relationship but he was holding your hand out of sight. Nonetheless, you appreciated it.

“She just told us last night. We weren’t surprised either. Well I wasn’t. Y/n’s father just went “Tom who?” and went back to his newspaper. But I’ve known Y/n was in love with Tom since the day they met. She came home on the first day of school and told me she met the her future husband.” Your mom gushed. You sucked in your breath and avoided Toms piercing gaze.

“Alright, alright. I was six.” You defended. “Everyone has crushes when they’re six.”

“But it was so sweet! He used to come over everyday, and she’d talk about him all night when he left. I was so happy when she finally admitted they were together. I just thought it was closer to three years, not one.” Your mom went on, much to your embarrassment.

“You’ve thought Tom and I were together for three years and you didn’t say anything?” You wondered in amazement. Did the whole world see something you didn’t?

“I didn’t want to pry.” Your mom shrugged.

“I’m curious, Mrs. L/n. How did you know we were together?” Tom leaned forward on his hands with an amused grin, loving the embarrassment you were feeling.

“Oh, are you kidding? It’s like she wanted me to know. All the times I’d ask her where she got a T shirt or a sweatshirt and she’d go, “it’s Tom’s” ,with the reddest face you ever saw. I’m pretty sure she uses one of your shirts as a pillow case, right Y/n?” Your mom asked you from across the table. You gave her wide “shut up mom” eyes.

“Mom”, you fake laughed, “thats enough.”

“You do!” She exclaimed. “I remember now because I asked you why you did it and you told me you missed him. Isn’t that sweet? She missed her boyfriend.”

“I did that when I was little.” You told the table.

“Oh, but it was just last week that you said that.” Your mom said, completely oblivious to your efforts to make her stop. Tom, for one, was loving every second of this.

“Last week?” He said as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“She’s old.” You shook your head. “She forgets.”

“No I don’t. I remember it perfectly.” Your mom got ready to set the scene. “I came in your room at like three am and asked you where you got the pillowcase from. You got all shy about it, remember? Apparently it was his favorite shirt or something. I should’ve told you right then and there that I knew. What girl would care about a silly T shirt if she wasn’t in love with the guy who owned it?”

“Haha, yeah. Because we’re so in love, right Tom?” You looked at him with panic seeping in. Tom burst out laughing and took both your hands in his.

“That’s right, Y/n. I love you so much.” Tom matched your slightly sarcastic tone before switching to a more genuine one. “More than you know.”

You and Tom stared into each other’s eyes, having a real moment amidst the chaos.

“Yeah, no. I don’t buy it.” Harry interrupted.

“Buy what?” Tom asked.

“This whole thing.” Harry gestured between you two. “There’s no way you’re actually together. I don’t buy it.”

“Me either.” Sam chimed it with a look of disapproval. “It’s too forced.”

“It’s not forced. We’re in love.” Tom defended sharply. A little too sharply, for a fake relationship.

“No, I believe that part.” Harry laughed a little. “But I don’t believe that you’ve actually told each other that.”

“Boys, please.” Nikki scolded.

“But think about it, mum. Didn’t Tom say he had a thing for Y/n two weeks ago? How can you have a thing for your own girlfriend?” Harry brought up. You felt your heart stop a little at this revelation. Did he really say that? You looked to Tom for answers, who looked at you in fear.

“It’s possible.” Tom said quickly.

“Is it, Tom? Is it really?” Harry pressed.

“Or is it possible you’re pretending to date to get us off your back?” Sam pilled on. Tom wasn’t enjoying this as much anymore now that the attention was on him.

“More tea, anyone?” Nikki pipped up.

“We’re not pretending. It’s real.” You came to Toms defense.

“Do you smell that, Sam?” Harry snuffed the air around him.

“Yup.” Sam nodded and sniffed the air. “I smell clownery.”

“It’s not fake.” You burst out. “I’ll prove it.”

You turned to Tom, who met you with a confused gaze. Your eyes fell to his lips, and hesitated for a moment. It felt like the whole world was holding their breath as you leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. He stiffened from initial shock before melting into you and cupping your face with his hand.

Right as your lips touched, you saw white lighting flash behind your eyelids, like the flash of a camera. You kept the kiss short, being you were in front of your family and all. When you pulled away, Tom looked at you in a way he never had before. You plastered a smile on your face and turned back to Sam and Harry.

“See? We do that all the time.” You shrugged as if the biggest moment of your life didn’t just happen.

“I stand corrected.” Sam said, visibly impressed.

“Then congratulations, Tom.” Harry said. “You finally got the girl you’ve been pining over for years.”

“Haha, yeah.” Tom mumbled, never taking his eyes off you. You were too busy talking to Nikki to notice Toms love struck gaze.

After dessert and helping to clear the table, you and Tom said your goodbyes and got into his car. As soon as he pulled away from the house and hit a red light, you high fived in celebration.

“That was great! They totally bought it.” You cheered.

“Our parents especially.” Tom agreed. “Good thinking with that kiss.”

“Oh, thanks. I just wanted to prove to Harry and Sam that we’re actually in love.” You said, eyes immediately widening. “I mean, pretend love.” You followed up.

“Yup. Pretend love. I was definitely pretending to be in love with you tonight.” Tom let out an awkward loud laugh. “Especially in that dress.” He fake laughed even harder.

“Oh, me too. I was pretending so hard that I’ve been in love with you all this time. Total make believe.” You nodded way too many times and kept your eyes on the road.

“I hear you. And that kiss? I was totally pretending to enjoy it. I completely forgot it even happened.” Tom shrugged with a squeaky voice.

“Me either. I’m definitely not thinking about it right now.” You told him.

“Oh, same. I’m not even thinking about your cherry chapstick transferring onto my lips and leaving a taste in my mouth.” Tom laughed again, sounding almost like he was in pain.

“It’d be a shame for us to continue this conversation and find out what tonight meant to the other.” You said sarcastically but attempted to sound sincere.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Tom said with a scarily huge smile.

“Pretend tonight never happened?” You finished his sentence, as always.

“Yup! You always know what to say.” Tom admired, sneaking a glance at you in the mirror. On the inside, he was dying to talk about the night. But you seemed to agree that it should be let go of.

“We’re just so in sync.” You faked a smile as you drifted further and further from the real conversation you wanted to have. “You’re the best fake boyfriend ever.”

“I totally don’t want to be your boyfriend for real.” Tom declared with fear in his eyes and a forced laugh. You were both saying the opposite of how you felt, and neither of you knew it.

“Me either. I’ve never even thought about it.” You lied.

“I know, right? I’ve never thought about holding your hand or being the little spoon or braiding your hair when you’re too tired because you stayed up all night helping me learn lines because you’re so selfless and kind that it makes my heart swell and burst.” Tom shrugged. “That’d be crazy, right?”

“Insane.” You agreed, replaying his words in your mind.

“But imagine if we really did get together, though?” Tom said as if he just thought of it. “I wonder what it’d be like if we went on a real date.”

“I bet it’d be terrible.” You forced a laugh. You knew it’d be magical.

“Oh, awful.” Tom agreed, despite the blatant lies. He felt hurt at your words, not knowing they were completely fabricated.

“The worst.” You nodded, feeling a little hurt at the confirmation that he didn’t feel the same. “That’s why we’re just faking it. But I have to admit, it’s pretty fun being your girlfriend. Almost makes me want to fall in love with you.” You said as a joke, but meant every word.

“Haha, I am in love with you.” Tom blurted in the same cheerful tone you’d both been using. The car filled with awkward silence as Tom drove on.

“But just pretend, right?” You asked softly.

“Right.” Tom nodded and cleared his throat, no longer looking at you in the mirror. “Just pretend.”

You got back to your shared apartment and flopped on your bed. You tried to push the nights events from your mind and went to sleep.

The next morning, your phone was nearly dead from blowing up all night. You had hundred of notifications, but only one caught your eye.

harryholland64 tagged you in a photo

You clicked on the notification and it brought you to his page. Right there, for the world to see, was you and Tom pecking each other on the lips. The caption was sweet and simple.

“lover boy.”

Your initial reaction was your heart swelling. That white lightning you saw during the kiss turned out to be the flash of Harry’s camera, but you felt oddly grateful that he’d captured it at all. Otherwise, the memory would fade with time and you’d forget how momentous that night was. Harry had immortalized that spontaneous kiss, and then sent it out into the world.

That was your second reaction.

Harry had upwards of a million followers, and anything he posted of Tom was inevitable posted in every single fan account in existence. That night was no longer between your respective families. Every marvel fan was about to get the surprise of a lifetime. Tom had been steadily denying a romantic relationship with you since he found success with Billy Eliot. All the news reporters wanted to know if the little girl in pigtails doing the dances in the wings and cheering the loudest was “Toms little girlfriend”. It’d only gotten worse when social media took off and your face was splashed all over Toms Instagram. He could count on being asked about you every time he was interviewed. This picture was nothing but air to the fire. There was no going back from it. Harry had unknowingly let all he’ll break loose, all because of a stupid, stupid, amazing kiss.

“Tom!” You screamed. Tom rushed to your room and you immediately held up the photo for him to see.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know he was gonna post it.” Tom apologized, having already seen it. “But it’s up and there’s nothing we can do about it. On the bright side, people are being really supportive.”

“To you!” You cried. “I’m getting death threats from 12 year olds!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I never meant for this to happen.” Tom said sincerely as he knelt next to your bed and took your hand.

“You need to post something about us breaking up.” You said as you pulled your hand away from him. Tom faltered and blinked in surprise.

“You said you’d pretend.” He reminded you with hurt evident in his voice.

“Yeah, for one dinner!” You whined, eyes landing on the amount of likes the picture had already. “The whole world knows now Tom. And there’s nothing to know! I’m getting harassed for dating you and we’re not even dating.”

“I think there’s something to know.” Tom mumbled, feelings once again hurt.

“Tom.” You whined and took his hand. He hesitated before putting his hand over yours and looking you in the eyes.

“They’re just want what we have.” He said gently. “They know you’re the most important girl in my life and you always will be. Can you blame them for being a little jealous?”

“No.” You admitted, a small smile creeping onto your face.

“Listen.” Tom tucked your hair behind your ears and cupped your face. “I can put an end to the hate. My fans will listen to me if I tell them to stop. My publicist wants us to do an interview together tomorrow on Ellen. If we go on and explain that we want our relationship private, people will leave it alone. We won’t have to pretend. People thought we were dating before anyway right?” Tom asked and you nodded. “Nothing has to change. Just do this one interview with me.”

“How am I supposed to lie to the whole world that I’m in love with you?” You asked. Toms heart fell and he prayed you couldn’t tell how much that hurt him.

“It’s not lying. It’s pretending. You can pretend to be in love with me for ten minutes, can’t you?” He asked a little bitterly before mumbling under his breath, “I’ve been pretending I wasn’t in love with you for ten years.”

“What?” You asked, not hearing him.

“Nothing. Will you please do it? I can do all the talking. You just have to sit there and look pretty.” Tom promised. You looked at his puppy dogs eyes before sighed.

“Fine.” You agreed.

You smoothed your dress and took one last look in the dressing room mirror just as Tom came in.

“Y/n, I belive I told you to look pretty. I never said anything about looking as radiant as the sun.” Tom teased as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You looked at his and your reflection in the mirror and told yourself he was only doing it to keep up the act. He didn’t really feel that way. It was just pretend.

“Aren’t you sweet?” You said with a tight lipped smile. “I might just fall in love with you for real.”

“I’d simply hate for that to happen.” Tom muttered and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. For the act, you told yourself, just an act.

“Me too.” You quipped, and quickly looked away.

“Did your mom mean what she said?” Tom asked suddenly. “About you sleeping with my t shirt?”

“I don’t even know what she was talking about.” You fake laughed and shrugged.

You knew exactly what she was talking about. A week earlier, she found you lying awake around three in the morning with tears in your eyes. You’d just gotten off the phone with Tom the night he left for shooting reshoots for Chaos Walking in Georgia. Knowing he’d be gone longer than usual, he gave his favorite black T shirt to wear when you missed him. Unbeknownst to him, that was all the time. You slipped the shirt over your pillowcase just as he rang your phone. You laid your phone on the pillow next to your head with a sigh as Toms voice filled your ears as his scent filled your nose. If you shut your eyes, it felt like you were lying on Toms chest, just like he was there. Your mom had found you in the position long after the call ended, and in the spur of the moment, you told her a little too much.

“Oh, okay.” Tom nodded his head, slight disappointment in his voice. “It just reminded me of all the times I’ve stolen one of your shirts before leaving for shooting.”

“Why do you do that?” You asked, turning in his arms to face you.

“The same reason you do. Or don’t do, apparently.” He said, slight disdain present.

“Because you miss me?” You asked. Tom looked frustrated and looked down at your lips.

“Because I love you.” He blurted.

“Pretend though, right?” You asked.

“Wrong.” Tom shook his head before crashing his lips to yours. You kissed him back for everything you were worth. Your fingers found their way to his hair, like they’d always meant to be there. He lifted you off your feet with arms secure around your waist. It was the fairytale you’d been waiting for since that first day of school when you told your mom you’d met your future husband. You only broke apart when a knock at the door came.

“Five minutes until you’re on.” Someone begin the door yelled.

“Thank you, five.” Tom called, his loving eyes never leaving yours. “I should’ve kissed you that day in the rain.” He whispered.

“That’s in the past. Let’s focus on our future. And my future is you.” You smiled at Tom and pecked his lips once again.

“You ready?” He asked.

“I am. I’m just glad we don’t have to lie anymore.” You said as you made your way to the main stage.

“Oh, Y/n.” Tom sighed dreamily as he brushed hair out of your face. “I was never lying.”

You took your seats in the couches next to Ellen after the crowd died down.

“So, how did you guys get together?” Ellen sat back in her chair and folded her hands.

“Well”, Tom looked at you and smiled as he linked his hands with yours, “it’s a bit of a funny story.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #iron man

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dontbeunraisonable · 4 years ago

Text

Little Yellow Flower - Kaminari Denki x GN!Reader

This was a request from my one of my darling amigas who is not on tumblr. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: swearing i guess, one (1) bad pick up line

Denki has to be the most dense person you have ever met in your life. The first day of class he was “laying on the charm”, showering compliments and offering to show you around the school even though you were both first years and he got lost looking for the bathroom.

The compliments were about anything from your eyes to your smile to the way you wrote your notes to the way you tied your tie. The dedication and attention was endearing. So, naturally, you flirted back.

You talked about how cute his smile is, how his training has improved his quirk, how funny he could be, his hair. You reverse uno card his ass and started using cheesy pick up lines.

“It’s handy I have my library card with me,” you said, jokingly lowering your invisible sunglasses,” ‘cause I’m definitely checking you out.”

A bunch of third years shushed you two as you both cracked up while (pretending to be) studying in the library. But it was worth the glares, as his giggling was the most wonderful thing you had ever heard in your life.

You always paired up with him for group projects, even though he sucks at them, just to have an excuse to sit with him and hang out one-on-one. Because you guys definitely did not work hard on those projects.

Unfortunately, he seemed oblivious to the fact that you liked him. So you slowly came to the conclusion that all his joking around was just that: jokes. You weren’t hurt or offended, as flirting between friends wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t leading you on or anything, you had just misread his intentions.

You just continued your flirtatiousness, but wondered if your conclusion changed your behaviour unknowingly. Were you flirting too often now? Too infrequently? Would he notice if there was a difference?

Luckily for you, Denki did not notice, as he was coming to the same conclusion to you, and was worrying about the same things. What if all his flirting just looked like joking around between two friends? That’s how it began, just goofing around with a cute classmate, but somewhere along the line, he realized that he actually did have feelings for his best friend.

No one noticed the new tension between the two of you, and each of you were hoping it was just your imagination that things were more awkward.

That brings us up to now, where you are currently herding a brain-dead Denki out of the training grounds. You weren’t sure why Aizawa Sensei kept putting you two together, but neither of you were complaining.

Today had been more combat training, and Denki had stayed intact for a while, but at the end he decided to go out with a bang. He did well, but now you had to drag his ass back to the locker rooms. You held his hand and slowly led him. He was babbling and wiggling around, getting distracted by everything. You were never letting Sensei assign you the farthest training spot again. You didn’t have a particularly short fuse, but damn were you impatient to go and take a shower and get a snack. You were both covered in sweat, and your gym uniform was sticky. This was not a hot moment for you.

Denki somehow slipped his hand out of your grasp and bent down to grab something off the ground. You turned to him tiredly, wondering if he was gonna pick up a bug, debating which was worse: him shoving it in your face or him trying to eat it.

“Hey,” you sighed, tapping his shoulder, “can we keep going I really wanna-”

You were cut off by a small flower being shoved in your face. It was a little yellow flower, one that came from a weed that had sprung up in a crack in the sidewalk. He dropped it in your hands and bounced off, the idea of a snack finally permeating his thick skull and entering his brain.

“Alright”, you thought. “That’s it.”

You caught up to the bouncing fool, and when he paused to giggle “wheyyy”, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. All you could taste was his sweat, and you think you might have smashed your nose in a bit too hard. But that giggle of his erased the worries from your mind, and the two of you continued on.

That night, after a nice shower and plenty of food, you were working on homework. You had procrastinated on an assignment rather skillfully, and now you had to really pound this one out or you’d be screwed.

But your brain was a little busy at the moment. He was brain dead, so he surely wouldn’t remember the lil cheek smooch right? Right? God, you hoped so. How could you play that one off as just joking around? ‘Haha yeah you don't kiss your homies? Huh weird haha sorry bout that man’. That is not convincing in the least!

No matter how many times you looked at your mathematics book, your mind replayed his cute little giggle. The yellow flower was sitting on your desk.

You prayed that this wouldn’t hurt your friendship.

Your phone buzzed, waking you from your daydreams. Denki had texted you.

“Ayo you busy? I dont wanna do english”

You hadn’t seen him since you got back to the locker rooms, as you kept missing each other, and the fact that he didn’t seem to text any different assured you that he had no idea what happened.

“No come on over. I dont wanna do maths”

A few minutes later you heard him at your door. “Hello?” he called out in the highest possible falsetto.

“Hello,” you said in your most intimidating and deep voice.

He opened the door, peeking his head through with a weird smile on his face. You mimicked him, flashing him your worst smile. He closed the door behind him and flopped onto your bed.

“I think Mic Sensei wants me dead. I can’t memorize vocab to save my life and he gave us homophones. The quiz is in two days and I have decided to quit hero school and become a professional gamer.”

“With your aim? You’re better off staying in school, my guy.”

He wiped fake tears from his face, and suddenly noticed the flower of honor on your desk. A slight rush of heat went to the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden from your view. But you still noticed his pause.

He turned to face you, his look falling from your face to your hands. “So,” he said, a new hesitancy in his words, “are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You looked at the elephant shaped eraser in your hand. “You got something to say about my eraser, you snob? This is a wonderful eraser and it doesn’t have those weird smudgy things like your nasty one does.”

Denki snorted. “No, I’m sure your eraser is amazing. I meant… you know, what happened earlier? After training?”

Your heart stopped. “Oh. Right. That.”

You looked away from him and nervously scratched at the back of your neck. You had almost convinced yourself that you were okay. But you had been a fool.

“Did you,” Denki quietly spoke up, “mean something by it?”

You avoided his gaze. “Would you be upset if I did?”

A slight smile graced his features. “No, of course not. I just want to know if you… ya know, felt the same way?”

Cue the buffering symbol on your forehead. “The same way,” you repeat to yourself, unwittingly aloud.

“Yeah. Do you, like, like me, or something?”

You turned to face him, your scratching hand falling to your lap. “Yeah. Yes, I do like you. In a more than friend way.”

A large, contagious grin split across his face. Your own mouth followed suit, beaming at the boy sitting with you. A giggle echoed through the room, gracing your ears.

“You really do like me? You’re such a nerd!” He fell back on your bed, poking your leg. Then he sat up again. “Why didn’t you tell me? I sat here thinking it was just me.”

“Why didn’t I tell you? Why didn’t you tell me?” you accused, poking his chest in revenge.

You two continued poking each other, accusing the other of being an idiot. Finally, Denki pulled your hands into his lap, and he leaned in towards you.

“Can we… kiss for real, now? Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, but neither of you moved. Then both of you cracked up realizing that neither of you knew what you were doing.

“Okay,” you said, “I am going to hold still, and you…”

“Mm.”

He leaned in slowly, and you closed your eyes. He softly pressed his slightly puckered lips against yours, and held them there for a few seconds before pulling away a few inches. You leaned forward again to meet his lips, and pressed a series of soft butterfly kisses to his lips. You both pulled away, trying to catch your breaths.

Your eyes opened again, and you could see that his face was bright red.

He wrenched his hands from yours and slapped them over his face. Another giggle left his lips, and you reached out to pull his hands away.

“Ai!”

A little zap shot through your hand when you touched him. He looked at you in worry.

“Oh shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to zap you! Did it hurt? I-”

“Bro, shut up, it was just a little zap. I’m fine. It wasn’t like the damn playground slides that could kill someone.”

He calmed down and rubbed your hands apologetically.

“Wait,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Are you still gonna call me bro? We kinda just kissed.”

“I don’t know. Can we kiss more?”

He crawled closer to you, moving the maths book out of the way. He froze a little, then placed his hand tentatively on your shoulders. You leaned into him and met his lips with yours.

You two spent almost half an hour kissing, soft little pecks, slowly gaining confidence in what you were doing. Slowly getting used to the feeling of the other. Slowly learning what the other liked.

From then on, any time you two were alone or far from the group, soft kisses were exchanged. His arm was looped through yours any time you walked together, and his ears were almost permanently tinted red when you were near.

Posted 2020 December 1

#kaminari x reader #kaminari x y/n #denki kaminari imagine #denki x reader #denki x y/n #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha #mha

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crookedcatavenue · 4 years ago

Text

Groupie Love ( Izzy Stradlin X Reader)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: (y / n) is in love about the 1985 Los Angeles night, but more than that, for the guitarist for one of the bands on the sunset strip.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Mentions of drugs, sex and alcohol.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.998 words

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: Hello! I am very happy to finally be posting this imagine, I have already posted other guns fanfictions in other platforms, but this is the first time here on tumblr and... Out of my native language. Then forgive any mistake, I hope you'll like it and if you do, give your feedback so I will be able to continue.

The strong smell of hairspray flooded the room along with a long cloud of smoke from the spray, (Y/N) coughed heavily and raised a hand to his nose when the product reached his nostrils.

"Don't you think you've already put in too much?" (Y/N) wanted to know, laughing lightly, while watching her friend set her hair in a bleached blond tone even more.

"No. The more volume the better," Michelle shot back with an amused little smile in the corner of her face.

It was Saturday night. The city of angels invited all young people to a bohemian and wild diversion on the three kilometers of the Sunset Strip, the mythical stretch of Sunset Boulevard. During the day everything seemed peaceful and dull, however when the sun went down and the night swallowed up the Los Angeles sky it was the moment when life seemed to make sense to the youth. With the opening of bars and nightclubs, this was where the rock scene in the 1980s began.

"Do you think Donna and Montana will be able to leave the house?" (Y/N) asked with superfluous concern. The Clarke sisters had been friends with her since elementary school, after a few years when the three entered high school, they met, Michelle, and soon the girl quartet became inseparable. However, the Clarke sisters came from an extremely religious family, and every time the four friends left, they had to come up with a well-designed and convincing excuse for Donna's mother and Montana.

"I hope so, last time we almost missed the time to enter the club waiting for them," he mumbled taking a last look in the mirror, checking if his hair was his taste, when he saw that yes, she turned to help (Y/N) putting on makeup.

Michelle reached for her eyeliner, pulled the cap slightly with her mouth, and leaned over (Y/N).

"Nothing too exaggerated, Shell," She subtly asked her friend, who just rolled her eyes and touched the tip of the brush over the inner corner of (Y/N)'s eye, carefully drawing a line and pulling the movable eyelid to the outer corner.

"What is it, girl?" You need to take a little more risk! Put that jacket we bought last week with those shorts, and you will look amazing.

(Y / N) snapped his tongue over his teeth and just limited himself to a little snort, so as not to disturb the effort and attention that his friend was giving to his makeup.

"Today we are going to Gazzarri's, I heard that there will be a concert by Rose in one of the hundreds of flyers spread across the street from the record store," She informed her, moving away from a little and checking with a proud smile her masterpiece made on her friend.

Rose was one of the dozens of bands that were born there in West Hollywood.

A knock sounded on the door and soon after it was opened, presenting the Clarke sisters in their well-behaved and pastel-colored clothes, without anything too glamorous or exaggerated.

"Get ready soon! Or Todd won't help us get into the club,” Michelle announced bluntly, and the sisters quickly fetched some clothes from the wardrobe in her friend's room.

"You look like a rockstar, (Y / N)," Montana praised grabbing platform-heeled boots from somewhere in Michelle's room.

(Y / N) smiled in thanks and Michelle soon interrupted the small dialogue between the girls.

"And you are a nun," the girl shot, and received Montana's middle finger in response "Come on, girls, this is ours tonight!"

When (Y / N), cheered up with the friend's phrase, she got up from the bed with excitement, however, she soon pulled again.

"Calm down, sweetie, I haven't done the other eye yet"

Gazzarri's.

The night air on Sunset Boulevard seemed to fill (Y / N) 's lungs with a breath of euphoria. The girl felt freedom and happiness filling every inch of her interior at that moment. Besides her friends, who sang some David Bowie songs, she could finally be herself and let her wild and partying soul dominate her body, which looked more like a prison on other days.

When they arrived at Gazzarri's, there was a man a few years older than (Y / N) and her friends, waiting for them with a cigarette between their fingers. On the opposite side there was a long line of people waiting for their turn to enter the club, everyone seemed excited and euphoric that night as well as (Y / N).

"There you are, I thought you weren't coming," She spoke with a special and hungry look on Michelle, who just shrugged.

"And miss the opportunity to see you, sweetie?" She replied in a tone full of malice.

The man laughed softly, throwing his head back and encouraging them to join the club. (Y / N) followed them with Montana and Donna in pursuit, and the instant they crossed the second partition of the establishment, she felt her body being introduced to an atmosphere with an odor of nicotine, sex, and drink. A cloud of smoke hung over the place, leaving the girl's body a little more charged. A cough from the back of his throat upset him for a moment, and in order not to look like an idiot child, he chose to head over to the bar and ask for something to wet his mouth.

"I'm going to get a drink," he warned the sisters before peering between some people on the way to the bar. Gazzarri's was extremely crowded that night, and observed the girl looking around. When the bartender came towards her, she nodded in greeting: - A soda, please.

The man cast an amused look at (Y / N), however, he soon tried to fetch the drink.

"Coke will not make you drunk... At most with a little gas," an amused voice came from the right side of the girl who looked in the direction of the person who said that.

The guy had a spontaneous and fun aura, his blond hair was wild, and (Y / N) didn't understand how his cheeks didn't hurt due to his open and continuous smile.

"Let's say I don't intend to get drunk," he replied promptly "Not now. The show hasn't even started yet, so it loses its grace."

The man tilted his head to the side and rubbed his nose slightly.

"Until you're right," he agreed.

The bartender returned and handed (Y / N) his soda with a straw and walked away to the next customer. At the same moment, the girl sucked the cold, gas-filled liquid, which ran down her throat, ceasing the uncomfortable itch caused by the smoke in the room.

"So... What brings you here?" the smiling blonde close to (Y / N) asked with cautious curiosity.

"Well, it's a little obvious, don't you think?" (Y / N) gave the man a playful smile which he received with an embarrassed frown.

"Yeah, it was a fucking stupid question," he apologized with a look.

(Y / N) mentally cursed himself for being slightly rude to the boy, he seemed to be a nice person, even though she knew that part of his behavior was part of her "flirting".

"Is that you?" he looked at her again with a slightly confused face due to the question, and (Y / N) he tried to reformulate the sentence: "What are you doing here? In addition to trying to get girls drunk."

He opened another smile and straightened her hair.

"Let's say I'm looking for a guitarist and a vocalist for my band," counted on a unique excitement in his voice, you could see the sparkle in the back of his eyes, how much that meant to him "Me and my friend..." he looked over his shoulder looking for someone who was no longer there "… That must be somewhere around here."

(Y / N) let her eyes travel around the club for an instant, she saw no sign of Donna or Montana, as Michelle knew that the moment they entered one of those establishments she went directly to her heavy and special fun with drugs, (Y / N) had no opinion or thought formulated about that subtle addiction of her friend, however, she used nothing, she preferred to stay away from that universe.

"Did you say... A band? It looks cool," stressed the girl returning to the conversation with the blonde.

"Yeah, I think the guys I'm looking for are going to take the stage soon," he looked for a moment at the stage, in which a band would start playing.

(Y / N) studied the man in front of him a little more, and after a few moments decided to give him a chance.

"Hey, how about we do it like this, if the next band sucks we can get drunk in response to our frustration."

He broke into another big smile, and nodded, with his blonde mane shaking like popcorn.

It didn't take long for the band Rose to take the stage, the audience applauded for a long minute and then the show started.

They had a nice sound, however, it seemed that something was missing between the members and the music. (Y / N) commented something here and there with the smiling blonde beside him. It was about how the vocalist seemed crazy with his unique voice and his stage presence, or about the guitarist on the right side of the latter.

The man seemed to be enveloped in his mysterious and intimate bubble, his long black hair falling over his eyes and making his face taper. He looked like he was born to be a rock star. With the guitar down on his knee, (Y / N) he couldn't take his eyes off the guitarist, his movements seemed to have completely caught the girl's attention, and every time he looked up at the crowd her heart seemed to accelerate a little more and his belly was freezing timidly, when he realized the whole show was reduced only to him, in her eyes.

When a long moment passed, someone nudged (Y / N) 's arm incessantly, the performance was over, and she turned to the smiling blonde.

"It seems that today we are not going to get drunk," She said amused twisting her mouth.

"Yeah ... Damn they are awesome!" Exclaimed the man, jumping excitedly from the bench.

"What are your guys?" (Y / N) asked the man with his eyes fixed on the mysterious guitarist still on stage, exchanging a few words with the drummer.

The man lifted his neck, moistened his lips and indicated his finger in the direction of the stage:

"Okay... The guy who looks like Johnny Thunders and the sinister redhead on his side," he said looking back to (Y / N) "I heard that they have been friends since childhood, came from Indiana."

"Yeah, you did nice research on them," the girl laughed lightly.

The man smiled at the comment and jumped off the bench, adjusting his button-down shirt.

"So, let's go talk to them? Then we can go out for a drink or something as soon as I find my friend," muttered the last part, taking another look around the room.

(Y / N) was tempted to accept the invitation, and as much as the idea of being inches away from the guitarist in that band, she still needed to find her friends.

"How about we leave it for the next one? I have to find some friends and we can't be gone that long," She said and made an apologetic expression to the amused blonde.

"Okay, then, see you on any of these nights," He said goodbye with another of his smiles and waved his hand.

Before departing completely, (Y / N) called him by the man making him turn confused among the crowd.

"Good luck with the band, man!" She yelled over the music that sounded there.

"Steven ... My name is Steven," He yelled back before being swallowed by the sea of people there.

#guns n roses #guns n roses x reader #izzy stradlin #80s #rocknroll #steven adler #duff mckagan #axl rose #slash #slash x reader #gnr x reader #izzy stradlin x reader

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lalahbug · 4 years ago

Text

Only One Night? Levi x Chubby!Reader

Fandom: Attack on Titan Word Count: 2,218

My Masterlist

Warnings/disclaim: general Modern AU! Talks about sex, but no actual smut

Author’s Note: continued under story Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the same username, on 10/26/2016. Revamped/edited in 2020.

___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person

Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting.

Story under cut

___ slowly got out of the stranger's bed, checking the time on her phone, it was almost the time she had to be home. She cursed quietly before wandering the room, gathering her clothes and putting them on. Being as silent as possible, careful to not wake the stranger from his bed. She saw a notebook on his nightstand, she leaned over and wrote a quick note which read; ‘Last night was amazing, thank you for being gentle. It was my first time. I hope you have a wonderful life!’ She smiled to herself and grabbed her purse. She opened his door, locking the handle, so he’d be safe. Then she walked out of his apartment, put her heels back on, then quickly walked to her car. In a hurry to get home before her dad got pissed off at her.

Levi woke up with pain in his eyes from lack of sleep. He glanced over at his clock, 3:18 AM. The notebook on his nightstand grabbed his attention, seeing something written on it, he grabbed it. He furrowed his brow before glancing over at the other side of his bed. He honestly didn’t expect her to leave. He wanted her to stay, he didn’t even get her phone number or her last name. He groaned a bit. ‘What the fuck does she mean, first time? Was she a virgin or was it her first one night stand.’ He thought to himself for a moment. He decided to change his sheets since he was up now. He spotted a bit of blood. ‘Okay, so she was a virgin. Then why did she want to lose it to a stranger and only do a one night stand? She had to be at least 21 because she got a drink from the bar.’ He tried to replay last night in his mind.

___ was in a simple black dress, drinking at the bar. Ignoring everyone and everything, obviously, she was there to just drink and didn’t have any intention of getting laid. That’s what caught Levi’s eye. She was beautiful, some might think she’s chubby. But to him, she was just very curvy, which wasn’t too common in this night club. Levi had gone up to her, saying hello. At first, she ignored him. “Oi, brat. You can at least say hello back.” Levi glared at her, she glanced over at him. Before she looked to her side and behind her. “Are you talking to me?” “No. I was talking to your drink.” She giggled, she had a really cute smile. “So what are you doing here?” Levi took the stool next to her, to sit on it. “Oh, I just had a really bad day, so I decided to try and make myself somewhat pretty and to go drinking. I brought a few friends, but they’ve all left with some guys.” “Why didn’t you go with them?” She gave him a dry chuckle. “I wasn’t invited.” “Then why were your friends?” “Because they’re pretty and lean. And I’m ugly and fat.” Levi wanted to lecture at her for thinking that, but the way she said it. It didn’t seem like they were her words, but words she’s heard a lot. “Who thinks that?” “My family, some guys, and almost every guy here.” She downed her drink. “Your family says that to you?” “Well, my dad. He wants to marry me off to a wealthy man, who is willing to deal with me. So far, every suitor agrees with him. That I’m not attractive and I don’t have an ideal body.” “Your dad and those guys must have shit stuck in their eyes.” She giggled at his joke again. “Because you’re really beautiful.” He saw her face flush before she looked away. “Hey, how about we go talk somewhere else? I don’t want to be around these idiots anymore.” She gave him a small smile. "Okay.” He took her hand and guided her out of the club. They went to a restaurant to chat and then they were at his place.

Levi smirked thinking about last night while getting dressed for work. But then got annoyed because she fucking just left him alone. He groaned before grabbing what he needed and left.

___ was lectured once she got home at 2:30 AM because she was 30 minutes late home. Once again, her father told her that she had to stay pure, since she’s so unattractive, being pure is the only bargain chip left. ___ felt her heart almost break, realizing that she would have to tell him soon, that she is no longer a virgin. She quickly went down to her room, to the basement, where she lived. She was going to school, so she wanted to stay with her parents until she got her degree which her parents wanted her to finish. Since they both believed, she’d never get married so she’d have to support herself. She was on a small break in between semesters, with no homework to do to distract herself. She decided to make herself happy by cleaning. She loved to cook and clean, usually only doing the downstairs, so today she would clean the whole house. Once her parents were gone, of course, dad at work, mom out with the girls.

“Ackerman.” Levi stopped in his tracks and looked over to his boss, Mr. Lowells. “Yes, sir?” “We just landed a new campaign, I need someone to lead it. You will have to do a lot of paperwork with me for the next few days if you want it.” “I’d be fine to do that.” “Then after lunch, we can go to my home office. So it’s quieter and easier to get through everything.” “Yes, sir.” Levi continued to his office before sighing with relief. “Finally, I won’t have to work under Shitty Glasses anymore.”

Mr. Lowells walked into his home with Levi. “Thought you said it’d be quieter here,” Levi stated with an annoyed tone, as music rang through the house, it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t quiet. “___!” Mr. Lowells shouted. Levi froze as he heard her name then his eyes widened as she popped her head around the corner, the music was abruptly turned off. Her father walked towards where she had popped her head out. “Sorry, dad. I didn’t think you’d be home this early, so I wanted to clean and make dinner. I’ll finish up polishing the floors. Then if you’d like I can get you and your partner something to drink. Then I’ll go downstairs, so I don’t bother you.” She rambled. Her eyes never leaving her father. “I don’t mind your cleaning.” He stared her up and down, she was in a tank top and some loose sleep pants. “You look disgusting, though. If you bring us anything, at least make sure to cover your fat first.” ___ hugged her arms, trying to hide them. “Yes, sir. I apologize.” ___ focused her gaze onto the floor. “Come on, Ackerman, we have work to do.” Mr. Howells turned on his heel and Levi followed. Trying to process everything in his mind. Everything she had told him last night to remember little things he had heard about her before from Mr. Howells. “Your office is nice,” Levi stated as he sat down on the couch in the room, spreading out his material over the coffee table. “Looks like she cleaned in here first since there’s no dust.” He sighed before sitting down in his chair. Levi was pleased with her cleaning. “My daughter, she’s sweet and can cook and clean very well. She’s decently smart too. But, because of how she is and looks, I can never get anyone to marry her. I’ve been looking for years. She gets fatter and uglier as the years go by.” Mr. Howells ran a hand through his hair. Levi was fuming, trying to keep his composure. “Anyways, sorry you heard all that. Let’s get to work.”

About an hour had passed before ___ knocked on her father’s door. “Enter.” “Hey, dad.” ___ only took a couple of steps inside, but Levi could see she changed into a loose-fitting baggy shirt and some jeans. “What would you like to drink?” “Coffee, black. You, Ackerman?” Levi finally got her to meet his eyes, her whole face flushed. “Black tea.” Levi gave her a small smirk. “Okay! I’ll be back in a few then.” ___ squeaked before slowly leaving the room. Levi was hoping that would be her reaction to remembering him. “She’s so weird.” Her father grumbled. Levi ignored him and got back to work.

Once again, a soft knock came, she was told to enter. She kept her eyes on the tray in her hand. She placed the coffee in front of her father. She completely avoided Levi’s gaze, placing his tea in front of him. “Thanks, beautiful,” Levi whispered to her, once again her face flushed before she quickly left the room. Levi took a sip of his tea, it was perfect, just like her cleaning and her. “Sir, where is your bathroom?” “Oh, it’s down the hall, the last door on the right.” Levi stood up and headed out of the room. “Oi, brat,” Levi called out to her, making her freeze in her tracks, he walked up to her. “You could have at least left me your phone number since you ran away.” “I didn’t think you’d want it. I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself.” She whispered nervously. “I didn’t mean to run away, I had to be home by 2 AM, I was still late back home, though.” “Well, you made a fucking fool out of me. I got to be with a wonderful woman last night, then she disappeared into the morning. Because I forgot to get her last name and phone number. I was made a fool.” “I didn’t mean to. Please don’t tell my father. I have to tell him or it’ll be worse for me.” “Tell him, what?” “That I’m not a virgin anymore.” She blushed a bit and focused her eyes on her feet. Oh, she's adorable. “I can’t believe that my boss is your asshole father. I’ve wanted to hit him since I realized it was you. You looked really sexy while cleaning.” He cupped her cheek, pulling her face up to kiss her softly. “If you are so scared of what your father will say, why did you have sex with me?” “Because I was weak, you were the first person to tell me I was beautiful. The care and love in your eyes. It was something I had never seen before. Even if it was fake to get a girl into your bed. I felt special for once in my life.” Her eyes were starting to water. “You don’t have to pretend anymore, to care I mean. Our one night, it made me really happy, because I felt loved and wanted for a few hours. So thank you.” “Would you stop fucking crying.” Levi sneered. “I don’t fake shit like this. I said you’re beautiful because I think so. I said your dad is an ass because I think so. I had sex with you because I wanted you. I was pissed you fucking treated me like a one night stand because I want to see more of you. I want you. I want to have sex with you more than once. Even though we did it 4 times.” He chuckled as the crimson spread down her neck. “So, you like me?” “That’s an understatement. I fell in love with you the moment you down your drink. The moment you blushed at my compliment. Fuck, I think I fell in love, the moment I saw you.” Pulling her close to him. “You’re coming home with me tonight and you better fucking be there when I wake up.” “Ackerman.” Levi glanced over at Mr. Howells's confused face. “What are you doing?” “Trying to get her to come home with me.” Levi deadpanned, he wanted her to know he was being serious, that he honestly loved her. Mr. Howells chuckled for a moment, before seeing Levi’s eyes scan back over her face. “Are you serious?” “Of course. You were complaining about her never getting married. Whatever offer you’ve made before on her, give it to me.” “What?” They both looked at him in shock. “You fucking heard me. Let me marry her. She’s beautiful, she gets my sense of humor, makes good tea, and loves to clean. If you would have told me about her and shown me a picture of her when you started all this shit. I would have taken her off your hands. I’m willing to do it right now.” “Levi, shut up," she whispered. “Fucking, brat. Don’t tell me to shut up.” He looked over at Mr. Howells. “So? Are we planning a wedding or what?” Mr. Howells smiled at Levi. “Yeah, we can start after we get this new campaign settled.” “Good, because I’ve already had sex with her.” “Levi!” She smacked his arm slightly. “Is that why you were late home this morning?” She could only nod. “Well, you’re marrying him, so I'm not upset.” “Do I get any say in this?” She asked. “No.” Her father said sternly. “You’re mine, don’t you dare think about running from me, again.” She squirmed in his arms from his glare on her. “Hey, sir. Are we done for the day?” “Yeah.” "Good.” Levi picked up ___, over his shoulder. "Then I’ll be taking her home with me now.” Her face flushed again, trying to get out of his arms. She giggled a bit when he swore at her for moving too much. And for once, her father finally saw the beauty in his child. He smiled at her, as Levi walked out the door with her.

Author’s Note: continued (While editing this my tortillas almost burned, oop. Welp, time to eat some amazing tacos.) I feel like Levi would never be the type to do a one night stand. (That may be just blind love for him but it is what I think~) So thus this was born.

#attack on titan #aot #aot fic #levi x reader #levi/reader #levi ackerman #chubby!reader #fanfic #fanficition #lalahbug #lalah writes #reader insert #xreader #self insert

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 12

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Your existence in their world had reasons. A purpose that involves the contentment that Geralt never found in the world that he was in. The feelings you have for your witcher makes you feel things that you haven’t experienced yet, desires that make you feel sorts of things as it also was a cause of the Cicatrix that laid in between your chest. The question is, were you on the same page as Geralt is? or was it just a misunderstanding prior to that night?

Warnings: Soft and smiley Geralt! (*rolls on the ground*), Sexual Implications, a needy reader, an annoying bard, MODERN references, mention of Divergent, grumpy Geralt, a soft-touchy-feely reader. FLOOFY chapter! Insecure reader tho. 😭 Harry potter and Lord of the Rings references. HAHA!

Words: 8.5k (Well, Hello long ass chapter)

A/N: THERE’S STILL CHAPTER 13.1 BEFORE THE SMUT. AHE. Sorry for the delay. Happy mother’s day to all the mothers out there! Y’all are the best and real superheroes! If this chapter didn’t make you smile, then this means I am a failure for everyone! 😂💖

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

KISSING GERALT HAS BEEN SUCH A DREAM. The kiss felt like you were in seventh heaven and it also kept your mind wide awake the whole night; even with Geralt by your side with his lulling monster stories and those gentle fingers raking your hair like how he always does.

The gesture even made you a little more giddy than ever and Geralt didn't seem to mind as you've kept yourself wide awake; watching him sleep and never keeping him out of sight.

Though, he'd eventually covered those coy eyes of yours because it was bothering him; coaxing you to stop staring and just have your beauty slumber because you needed all the energy for your training.

A training that you thought would be for Cirilla because they've always had their swordplay fights before the sun rises and sometimes in the middle of a beautiful morning; as you watch Geralt in discreet as he wields his sword like how the waves move in the ocean. Very satisfying to ogle and observe.

The way he handles a sword was perfectly smooth and bland like how your coffee tastes in the morning.

Which is why your face was scrunched in peculiarity when he was done with Cirilla's training; giving the smaller silver sword to you with that reticent expression on his face; his habitual tight-lips now relaxed as he eyed you back with that tender gaze he holds whenever you were there.

An image you weren't used to; but may seem to wish it would be there forever because of how soft he appeared for you to see, not his usual brooding and serious persona.

"This is a very nice first date," you sarcastically muttered; wanting to scoff and whine from how unusual it was to receive training from the witcher like you were some sort of Tris Prior in the world of Divergents.

After the kiss last night, you've expected him to give you flowers, gifts, kisses or maybe more of his attention. Howbeit, you'd remember that you weren't in your world and that he wasn't a typical man who'd woo women like that. Geralt was probably a man whom women has been trying to court just to have his attention based on how beautiful and captivating he was.

Were you his beloved now? A girlfriend? his lover? you actually had no idea and chose to stay silent. Never asking anything more as to not ruin his good mood as he woke up in the morning.

Geralt didn't specifically told you anything about being his beloved. The only thing you understood in his words last night was that you were important to him and that he also cared.

Perhaps, he doesn't roll that way. The witcher wasn't particularly that type of man.

Therefore, you left it at that although it was dithering your heart. You were contented whether how ill-defined your position was in his heart.

"Why am I doing this again, Geralt?"

The latter silently watched you fidget with the sword on your hands, your cheeks puffed from how strange you thought his favors may be. He couldn't help but give you a beam that showed his teeth, his emotions thoroughly in a bliss after the night he confessed; parts of his aggression lifting up his chest, "The bard knows how to fight with his dagger," he adhered strictly to the fact, keeping the sword safely on his side.

Those lips of yours jutted in an opposing pout; your eyes seeming to connect with his spellbinding ones while he continued to wheedle, his cat-eyes curving into a soft shape of a crescent and you were totally enamored. Your heart skipping a beat when he was never breaking his gaze away; giving your stomach the heebie-jeebies, "---Cirilla is finally learning the techniques of using a sword,"

Your mouth was now turned into a tight-lipped one, shaking your head from the idea he wanted as you scrunched your nose further, "And I am better watching you and Cirilla have your little sword play fight," pause. "---I'm not going to fight anyone,"

You've continuously shook your head, tutting at the brilliant idea he'd tried to think of. Though, Geralt was adamant for his preposition; seeming to think the idea won't get you stabbing him accidentally or better yet, yourself.

"We can't be certain that there wouldn't be," he proclaimed, utterly determined.

You huffed out a frustrated breath, face falling right in the middle of the meadow as Geralt stood before you. His comely stature shining against the morning light and you were sure you've been blinded, "Right. Bad people are chasing you still,"

A bashful look has been unintentionally given to the witcher, lighting up an amused crooked smile and hum from the latter as he stayed completely taciturn, admiring the shy woman that stood before him.

You've suddenly felt him shift, turning your focus back at the Herculean, white haired Legolas as he'd languidly took a step back, looking calm and composed as he firmly ordered. His smile falling, turning all ruminative.

"Hit me."

More complaints were sent for what he requested, finding the whole ordeal somehow lamented because all you ever held was a pen, paper or laptops that certainly doesn't deal with people shedding blood unless you stab a pen at them. Sure, you've dreamt of fighting in combat in fantasy series or movies; but in your imagination, you were skilled. The version of yourself that you had in your dreams had talent and the one you have today only had idiotical abilities to plot your own demise because of how foolish you were in their world.

"Can't I fight with Jaskier?"

Geralt cocked his head to the side; in utter amusement as a small smile carved his pretty, luscious lips that grabbed all your attention. The witcher immediately noticed and had a smug glint in his amber eyes as he talked, "If you wish to annoy people and woo the king then he is excellent at it," pause. "---You wouldn't learn how to use a real sword from the bard. Unless, using a lute as a form of weapon in the middle of a royal banquet is your choice of fighting then Jaskier would do a great job,"

Thus, from the moment Geralt has made his utterance, Jaskier somehow had the luckiest time on planning to feed Roach as he emerged from the doorway, ceasing himself from sending a teasing ridicule as his name has been called in vain; backstabbing him by finding entertainment from how he tried shielding himself from the incident back in the years.

"I've never received any compliments from you don't you, witcher?" he hollered back, enclosing his mouth with a hand as he called from afar; a bucket full of Roach's food on the other.

Jaskier seen Geralt shake his head, a surprising beam drawing his face as the witcher playfully wisecracked out loud, "You don't need them, Jaskier."

The harmless banter made Jaskier pucker his lips in surprise, never anticipating how he'd gradually changed from being the brooding, reserved witcher to the grinning, active man he was seeing as he was teaching a woman who had no inspiration on learning the techniques of sword fighting.

Geralt simply turned his head to see you awkwardly holding onto the base of Cirilla's sword; having a gawky, hunched stance and the witcher took heed of it but chose not to correct it yet. You were dubious of even holding a sword and also a lot more hesitant as you've tried to strike a blow at his face. Without effort, he'd simply dodged the attack with one hand using minimal strength. The swords instantaneously crashing against each other with a satisfying ring of metals colliding.

Unfortunately, the weapon flew out of your hands as he'd dodged your strike, shamefully falling on the ground with a soft thud. Geralt snapped his eyes at the sword that fell from your hands before feeling his eyes turn to you, "Midget." he calmly scolded, having at least a massive amount of patience for you, "---Take it easy." you'd heard him advice. Baritone timbre soft but still rough which stirred that familiar warmth pooling just below your stomach; heart beat stumping upon your chest because of how you were worried it would obscenely pool in between your thighs. Just the thought of Geralt's presence kindled with the fire raging your insides.

You've never had felt any such strong desire for a man other than the witcher himself and it was beginning to grow frightening because of how you wanted him so bad; the kiss you had probably triggering something inside of you that didn't know it existed.

Maybe, it was probably horny hours like how you had them back in your apartment. The problem here was that you finally had a man to do it with, but you weren't sure if he also desired for you the same way as you do.

What if he only wanted you for companionship? Perhaps, he'll somehow find you boring like how your dates went back in earth when the time comes?

You didn't notice Geralt has grabbed onto the sword that flew right out of your hands, sauntering towards where you were and his presence lingering a little too close for those kindling flames aggravating that desire you had when his voice vibrated from behind.

"Also, try harder."

Despite of how enormously tall and brawny he was, the witcher leaned down to grab onto your hand, his rough fingers caressing yours that was sparking up the flames as it felt so gentle. He placed the handle of the sword onto your palm, delicately dragging the other to hold onto the base. Those calloused palms of his enclosing yours in a warm embrace as his warmth from behind seemed to turn more quenchless as time goes by, a sudden hunger flooding your system as your body turned putty with just a simple touch.

You've felt your throat run dry, stance turning standoffish when he'd loomed behind you. Heavily aware of his presence. Your voice cracking and stuttering as you mindlessly thought out loud, trying to wash the vulgar thoughts away, "I--I--I am! It's just that you've given me a real sword for practice!"

Geralt reiterated; utterly droning, "It's lighter than mine," with a simple raise of his brow as he stood behind you, his face inches close and you could feel his stare completely immense, making you look away from how flushed your face have been, "Even so! It can hurt anyone! Can't I learn witchcraft instead? I’ll be the potato version of Hermione Granger! It’s impossible that your world has no Voldemort! Expecto Patronum! Avada Kedavra!"

The preposition was hurriedly rejected with just Geralt's smile turning upside down; replaced with a scowl that coaxed you to turn your head to see him shaking his head with his face approximately close to yours; those amber eyes trying to melt your heart as he still had that vivid, affectionate dewdrop clustering in those peepers that provoked a satisfied sigh out of your ajar mouth.

His pitch suddenly turned austere; mouth tight-lipped as he quoted, "You will not use any ounce of sorcery from my world," you've seen the side of his lip turn into a smirk as he haughtily added, "---Alas, you are also too clumsy and impulsive for it,"

Geralt grudgingly moved his face an inch away; not before seeing a sight of him taking glimpses of your ajar lips as you awaited to be kissed by the witcher himself; howbeit, he chose to tease and ignored the accented feelings he had been trying to hide since the first day.

The latter surprisingly gave a chortle, his chuckle sounding heavenly amongst the birds chirping in the background, "How dare you?!"

He gave your hands consolatory pats as it was already surrounding the base of the sword. Geralt straightened his back, his thumbs casually giving the back of your hand a soft caress before taking heed of your silent squealing from his seraphic touches, "Hold the sword with your dominant hand, midget." before he took a step back away and muttering a mocking repartee, "---Maybe a Hirikka will be a better combatant than you,"

You've watched him waltzed back to where he was as he stood in front of you with a grin on his face, "I shouldn't have accepted your apology last night." you deadpanned with your eyebrows furrowed from how riled up and entirely flustered you were feeling early in the morning.

The witcher tipped his head with his smug grin, "You didn't. I just knew you would because you never get to have your nap without receiving cuddles and chill from me,"

You've feigned a gasp, unclasping your hold around the sword as you placed your palms around your hip, giving him a sassy posture of how you were appalling by the truth that he suddenly was giving; thoroughly surprised by his sudden pesky, frolic attitude he seemed to vibe. He was learning from your modern references and it shocked you even more.

"It was cold last night!"

"The night is also dark," He ridiculed and mocked what you've said to him last night while he was asking for forgiveness. His teeth slipped against the cardinal pillows of his lips, giving you a gorgeous toothy grin that made your breath hitch as if his aesthetics radiated off the sun light, "---You needed my warmth, midget."

A playful glare was sent to the witcher; intentionally keeping up with his mockeries as you gave a chuff and found his mischief rather entertaining because he rarely acts the way he is right now, "Are you a furnace? No. You aren't, Geralt of Rivia. Don't act like raking those fingers of yours through my hair doesn't help you sleep at night---"

"But, I'm your furnace amidst the benumbing night."

You couldn't help but giggle from his innocuous pick up line, utterly finding it amusing and endearing when you've understood it way differently despite of how ingenuous he wanted it to sound.

Their era and how they communicate was certainly giving you a good ol' laugh.

"Are you calling yourself hot?"

Geralt couldn't help but outstare; gawking from the dazzling laugh you've mindlessly given him. He was oblivious of his beguiling beams he has been making you see and the gaze that bewitched the morose of his spirit, puzzling how a mere person could take away the misery that has been haunting him since the moment his mother has left him alone to become a witcher in their world and a lot more great affliction he'd somehow experienced.

Presumably, your existence in their world had reasons.

Hence, the witcher knew it involved his happiness.

"Now, keep your stance firm," he snapped out of his daydream, gently tapping the tip of his sword on your thigh which erupted a squeak and a tiny whine from you, "---I can't always be with you when you are attacked by anyone who wants my family dead,"

You tilted your head to the side, cheekily wiggling your eyebrows as you grinned up at him like a Cheshire cat as he shook his head from your playfulness, "Did you just lowkey tell me that you treat me as family?"

"Would you want it to be that way then?"

Another failed attempt of giving a successful, strong blow has been swung towards the latter, easily stepping one foot back as he blocked the smite with one hand. Though, you hadn't let the sword fly out of your hands this time which Geralt considered as slight improvement for being taught in the first day.

"Hmm. Again." he'd given an entranced hum, giving a tight lipped smile as he affirmed and tried to wriggle out more strength from you because it was pretty much a reluctant strike as well.

You've straightened your back, keeping your feet loosely away from each other as you sighed an exasperated one. The sword falling on your side as you wanted a truce. Feckless of the pout you were giving to the witcher who was too persistent in giving your body an ache from the training. Geralt raised a brow, seeming to enjoy your whining and allegations from the moment he'd given you a sword.

"Stop puckering your lips like that. I'm not giving you a buss when you're acting like a chit,"

A buss. It sounded pretty much familiar as it was used in those romance books you've read back in earth. His straightforwardness tickling your spine in a delicious way that got you flustered for the tenth time this day. You know your eyebrows rose up till your hairline from how he was assuming things that were actually the truth, "Did that mean a kiss?! I--I wasn't asking for a kiss though!"

"Then, acting adorable won't let you get away from this."

You've groaned out loud; fighting yourself off from stomping your foot out in utter vexation from how he'd always seem to knew what you were thinking. Were you that obvious?

"I hate you,"

Geralt took a stroll towards you, thoroughly leaning down to your height with a cross of his prodigious arms; the sword still in his fist and watching how he'd closely stared into your eyes as he fought off a smile, "The hate is quite indistinct and difficult to tell after you've been kissed last night,"

Your heart wanted to burst from the embarrassment, feeling your face turning into flames. Just add a little bit of oil and people could probably fry anything they wanted to as they use your face as a pan.

Reprehension would have escaped your lips if a hand hasn't clutched onto the side of your neck, his hot breath assaulting your face before you've felt his lips on yours in a hot second; never giving you time to process everything as he broke the buss with a sweet, tinge sound that seemed more soundly in your ears rather than swords colliding in a battle.

His hand behind your nape left in haste, straightening his back and shoulders; acting like he hadn't done anything wrong nor he continued to act like he didn't even give you a small, plain peck to the lips that gave a startle and somehow positioned you into a blissful, heart exploding condition.

"You don't dislike me, midget." Geralt's expressions were indescribable. His features stoic for five seconds before seeing his lips turning into a gloaty smirk as he spun in his heels, leaving you dumbstruck from the surprise.

"G-GERALT! That's not fair!" you stood rooted on the ground, keeping your lips together as you smacked it out loud like you couldn't believe he'd given you another kiss to ruin your ovaries and focus.

He strolled along the meadow, his emotions flying elsewhere as he was entirely finding your reactions hilarious. Geralt walked the path back to where he stood before, turning around in face-front to see your face all red and giving him the stink-eye, "Nothing is ever fair. Now, use all your strength to hit me with your sword."

You tightly grabbed onto your sword with both hands, listening to how he'd told you it should be held and also thoroughly remembering the basics that he told you prior; keeping your stance better than the one you held a while ago, watching how his face lit up as yours turned serious and challenging, "Oh, I will! You're a cocky witcher today and it's annoying!"

Jaskier have fed Roach back in the stable, he walked back to the doorway to see Cirilla leaning her back on the stone walls, arms crossed with a smile that tells how amused she was as she watched how you were trying to strike a successful blow at the witcher who found your lack of knowledge utterly astonishing and endearing; regardless of how he has been fond of having lovers which were strongly independent and knew how to stay alive in a battle.

You were a paradox to his life. Utterly questionable as to why you have even arrived.

"He's not teaching her how to fight," Cirilla admitted towards the bard who subtly nodded beside her, also watching the quote training unquote that you had with the white wolf. Yet, both of them could see how his way of teaching seemed to be less harsh than how they've been taught. Totally aware of how he was also buoyant rather than serious and brooding.

It was like a different Geralt that loom before them as he tutted and shook his head to cease your reckless attempts of trying to hit him with the sword; grabbing onto your fingers to cease you as he explained with a relaxed face he'd given while all you could do was glare and huff back.

Jaskier gave a small smile, eyes narrowed from how the sunshine hits his face and mindlessly tapped the handle of the bucket with his index finger, "The witcher is flirting with the rat, probably want some bonking,"

The lion cub of Cintra gave him a once over, "Some what, bard?"

"Forget what I said,"

Cirilla brushed him off as she went on with her lurking, Something you said ignited a grin out of the witcher as he quietly listened to your rants and rambles about how annoying he have been, "Also, this is the first time I'd seen Geralt smiling like that again. I hope she doesn't leave. I'll do everything for her not to leave,"

The bard gave a nod of understanding. Deeply thinking as to why Cirilla would do everything in her willpower for you not to leave; hence, seeing the smile that Geralt has given you was a simple answer as to why you needed more protecting and a lot more time to stay. Would it be selfish of them when you probably had a family back in your world?

Thus, Jaskier's gaze lingered on you and saw how you giggled back at the witcher who has said something that made him scowl. The mere sight of you strumming along the rakish onslaught of his heart strings from the week that Geralt wasn't around bothered him but he chose the better of it and ignored.

"But, isn't it strange?---" he momentarily ceased, snapping his gaze away from you as Cirilla gave him a nasty lour for whatever thoughts he wanted to say out loud, "---That your step-mother would be pretty much smaller than you?"

The child loudly groaned in response, turning her back away from him as she pulled the doors to go in, "You are honestly the most irritating person in the continent,"

The day has been pretty much a blur. After being trained by the witcher no matter how many failed attempts you tried; his patience utterly high for you to even comprehend that he had a lofty tolerance for your inability to successfully strike a sword.

Your arms were somehow sore, considering the amount of attempts that Geralt has been repeatedly telling you to just hit him with all your might, yet being active in the battlefield will never be your forte. He tried giving you hope, downright telling you that it was normal and everyone improves sooner or later as long as your training had consistency.

You've been a bitchy-pants after the training. All catty and stopping yourself from sending a t-bird for the bard who received a snide remark and decided to send irritating teases that you were just being sexually frustrated.

Simply to say, Jaskier knew you were having your horny hours. That time of the day or that day of the week.

How'd he know? you had no idea. It was probably only his guesses as to why you were acting bitchy towards everyone except Kolby and Cirilla. You were being bitchy towards the men of the house especially at Geralt who has given you body soreness.

If only it was a different type of ache, you would probably not be bitchy.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat your back along the walls of the hallway, the only place where you've found peace because walking in the first floor even got you vexed because Jaskier seem to find your irritation amusing and had been running his mouth about how it was fine to just give in to your fantasies especially that the witcher probably had wanted it as well since the first day.

You were contemplating whether or not to turn on your cellphone; remembering how it was only at seventy-five percent. You've stared on your phone that rested on your hands, spinning it around as you were trying to fight off the kept fervor that has been insatiable and a bother when Geralt has given you one touch.

The feelings and emotions have been skyrocketing, it was already there even just from the start of your morning. However, after going home from the Djinn troubles, it started doubling and began to grow bestial like a monster wanted to come out of your chest from how you badly needed the witcher.

It just wasn't normal.

Geralt was entirely aware of your vexation. Though, he was meters apart from you and was actually outside to take care of Roach. Inside his chest, he felt an ounce of disturbance with the help of your irritations and frustrations; the sensations coming back again and the witcher still had no idea why.

He knew where you were and decided to find you. Finding a midget hunched in the middle of the hallways with her brows tightly furrowed, a worried pout on her face and blown cheeks as you fidgeted with your phone.

Geralt fought the urge of smirking and just sauntered to where you were, his heart beat beating in blissful thumps that got him wondering how it was even possible in just the sight of you.

You've felt his presence looming before your stooping form, a stink eye was given to the witcher who crouched in front of you, his burning gaze solely on you as he cocked his head to the side, observing your face and the state you were in with a smile growing on his face.

"You're annoyed." he artlessly admitted, never risking to leave your sight.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you felt the burning desire grow even further, turning away to help your poor little heart from feeling more bothered than it ever intended to, "How'd you know, Legolas?"

The nasally mention of that nickname you had for him got Geralt frowning. His forehead creased to the extent that he seemed to be thinking rather too deeply as to who this Legolas was and why were you even calling him that.

"---and now you're the one annoyed,"

Geralt kept his lips in a tight firm line. Amber peepers shining in dissatisfaction.

You brushed off his noncommittal reaction; already used to his lethargic norms as you complained about his infuriating friend, "It's Jaskier! He's annoying me since this morning!"

He just continued to give you a listless look, giving a displeased hum as he wholeheartedly let you rant to him.

Then, you added, "---Just his breathing irks me!" which only a hum was the only word you've received again, "Hmm."

You've irritatingly grunted, giving him a glout as you also kvetched, "Stop the humming! You're annoying me as well! You've been annoying me too since this morning!"

Your cavils has stirred a defeated sigh from the latter. His sudden actions obviously had reasons as to why you were abruptly being trained with a weapon. If only he hadn't brought you with them in the marketplace and haven't run into Tybalt then gallants weren't supposed to be searching for you by fair means or foul.

"What did I do this time?" he lowly grumbled, utterly dead beat. A faint, crooked smile raising those lips of his. You've held onto your phone a little more tighter, feeble arms crossed in front of your chest as he simply gave you his attention that you somehow yearn a lot, "You and Jaskier can stay in one room together while I sleep in yours! Men are so annoying! Always have been!"

Geralt's features appeared to be of someone who was suddenly bothered at the understanding of your statement, his listening comprehension twisting whatever it is that you've said as he skeptically appalled, "You have been with other men?"

Your face twisted in a tight cringe, bewildered by his presumptions that sounded like he was telling that you had a lot of men back in the days or basically his words were telling you that he couldn't believe that you actually had a man before. You've given him at least ten seconds of you just giving him a displeased flicker of your eyes before the white haired witcher proceeded with his remarks.

"Also, are you threatening me in my own home? You're kicking me out of my own chambers?"

An innocent nod was given to Geralt. The witcher simply gave an enervated blink, hearing a serious growl buzzed out of his chest; scrutinizing for whatever your eyes held out to him. The intensified gaze of his peepers searing that says he needed your sincere answers.

"This...Legolas you have been calling me," pause. "--- Do I remind you of your previous lover?"

You waited for more additional questions or perhaps a moment where he could tell you that he was just joking around. However, the intimidating, gargantuan monster-slayer who was crouched before you; never said that he was just giving out any jocularity of his previous light-hearted demeanor as he was all brooding again.

He fervently stared you down, making you shift on the floor as you looked up into his eyes; mirth surrounding the windows to your soul when he didn't budge after you've given him an guileless beam, "Yeah. Pfft. Earth also has their own witcher slash elves---What? Oh my God, this is funny."

Geralt is all wordless and silent; awaiting for whatever explanations you could give him and you couldn't help but ask in a skeptical manner; bizarrely gasping for his seriousness.

"Wait, you're actually---stop giving me a scowl! I never had...one? He's a Lord of the Rings character and I swear to God, he is fictional---Not real! Though, he looks like you because the hair and such---but---" you've jumped from one thought to another, feeling the scrutiny under his gaze and obviously nervous that he appeared to look like he would grab his sword and look for the man to behead him. Though, it will never happen due that Legolas was entirely fictitious to even start.

You ceased yourself from trying to explain the background story of Legolas for Geralt. Your nerves getting the best of you whenever you were being interrogated. An exhale of breath escaped your lips as you took a good look at the grimacing witcher before witlessly reaching onto his face with your palms on either side of his chiseled face as you gave him your best doe-eyes, sweetly trying not to coo at how his brooding demeanor actually makes him look fetching nevertheless.

"Stop being mad at me," you buttered his silence up with a tender tone of yours and the way he scrunched his nose and appeared to be looking bizarre tells you that your sweet-talking was cringe-worthy because of how you probably never knew how to simmer a man's troubled day.

Or he was just not used to gentleness.

You've retracted your hands away from Geralt's face and tried your best in avoiding those questioning and bemused eyes of his as you abruptly stood on your feet, shamefully rubbing your nape as you had yourself wincing from the second hand embarrassment of treating Geralt like he was some soft baby, reminding yourself to never do it again, "I am embarrassing myself,"

At the time you've stood up, Geralt also has been on one's feet. He didn't mean to look at you weirdly as you've cupped his face with that tender gaze inside your eyes. When the moment your delicate fingers brushed his, he felt as if he was in utopia. The man wasn't just used to intimate touches especially your caresses that felt like Gossamer.

Geralt just wasn't used to people treating him like he was actually human instead of someone who deserved to be treated differently.

Only Renfri, Yennefer and you had this effect on him. Though, with yours seemed to be much stronger.

Your panicking state urged you to flee from his presence, but the witcher wasn't going to let you go that easily as he'd caught your wrist; gently pulling you as your back hit the wall. Both hands and fingers scooping your neck like a baby chicken he'd caught and decided to take care of as his his warm touch skimmed till his thumbs brushed against your jaw, carefully urging you to peer up into those amiable gazes he successfully tries to give.

"I'm not mad." he dearly reassured, his small smile bringing your heart into euphoria because he was much more beautiful this way; smiling as if the world hasn't condemned him with an ill-fate of being a witcher.

Your beams were difficult to fight off; immediately giving him a smile as he also did as well. Chiefly, only giving you the sight of his crinkled eyes. His thumbs tenderly caressing your jaw which coaxed you to calm down from being fidgety which was totally a good medicine because your nervous jitters actually ceased with just his gentle touches.

You've grabbed onto his hand, memorizing his soft features as it was ever been a rare sight. Never believing he was acting the way he right now towards you. Your fingers brushing against his hands like a feather tickling the witcher's sanity.

Before another utter cockblocker slash disturbance came trudging up the staircase and somehow found you both in an heartfelt position; with Geralt cradling your face like no other.

"Oh! Ughm, this is a rare sight." Jaskier ceased his steps, midway through the hall, the bard's growing grin seeming to give you jitters as his ridicule began, "---and the small rat has been sexually frustrated, Geralt!"

You just wanted to strangle him sometimes.

"Cot damn it, Jaskier! SHUT UP!" you exclaimed, totally flustered as Geralt dropped his hands to the side; looking between you and Jaskier in ponder; those eyes of his full of curiosity, "You're...?"

"I AM NOT FEELING SMUTTY!"

If only you could dig and cover yourself up from the embarrassment, you would.

"---Smutty."

"You get my point, Geralt! I know you do!"

Geralt had his forehead in a tight wrinkle, thoroughly thinking what you meant; though, he understood none because the word seem to be peculiar, "Midget."

Jaskier exhaled an exasperated breath, dramatically rolling his eyes as he waved you both off and curved right pass between the both of you, entering his chambers to grab onto some clothes because he wanted to bathe.

The bard pointed a finger as he walked off, his hips swaying as he does so and never looking back, "She needs some nightly penetrating! You're welcome, witcher!"

Geralt watched Jaskier leave, an amused pucker of his lips was the answer to your questions that he certainly understood everything now and cocked his head to the side, peering you down as he awaited for an explanation. Yet, all he saw was you covering your blushing face with a guilty, forced smile as you washed your face in frustration to give him your regretful eyes.

"Don't listen to him," you quoted and begged for him to just take the bait.

Nevertheless, you've seen him raise a hand; about to start talking about being one horny woman for him when you've stopped him midway and tried to shift the topic away, "Anyways, I forgive you, Geralt. Now, can I braid your hair?"

The witcher closed his ajar mouth, humming in wonder as he dropped his hand to the side; narrowing his gaze at you, "I wasn't asking for any of your forgiveness."

You've blinked back at him, jutting your lips together as you looked away, tone teasing and slightly threatening, "You sure that's your final answer? No regrets?"

Geralt roughly puffed out a breath, muttering profanities beneath his chest, "Fuck." and another grunt because he'd remember how he still wasn't forgiven by yelling at you for last night, "---Fine. Do I have a choice?"

Your smile turned into a knavish grin, wanting him to regret why he even agreed to whatever plans you have for him as you bluntly answered.

"No."

The one you had in mind, planning for a simple diversion for Geralt to erase the horrid truth that Jaskier has told out loud for him to hear was actually another rabbit hole that had caught your feet, catching you going far down the pit like you have been scammed. Clearly, because Geralt's unwitting deep groans and hums has made you hot and bothered every time you've tried combing his hair along his snowy locks.

You were wincing every time he has his nose flaring whenever your fingers thread along his hair, the knots giving his head a rough yank from how you were trying to untangle those knots.

Geralt sat on the floor; his arms on either side of the bed. With you who sat on the bed and your legs criss-cross behind his impressive, thewy back; tempted to just give him a big hug because he seemed so comforting but chose not to based on how grouchy he became once you've combed his hair with your fingers.

You didn't even know if he was irritated or somehow liking the whole situation because he was deeply growling, groaning and eventually having to hear a slip of guttural, restrained whimpers that caught your ears. Enlivening that cravings and curiosity you had for some human touch.

"Midget..." he grumbled another complain and lowly warned, hearing the baritone growl he'd ought for you to hear which made you ignore his protests as you had your own protestations as well, "Stop complaining. Also, don't you own a comb? Your hair---It's---Oh! I'm sorry! Can you please stop growling and moaning at the same time!"

His head was minimally pulled back because of your reckless combing. Your nose scrunched even more as you'd received another menacing hum that tells he was close to hitting your face with a pillow because of how rough you were taking care of his hair. It's not that you weren't rough, but the locks in his hair was frustrating you to the highest.

"Hmm."

You subtly leaned down, sneaking your head to the side of his face to see his expressions void of emotions. The typical Geralt whom you've met as he felt your presence nearer, he'd turned his head to give you a lackadaisical look in his eyes that tells that you were stressing him out.

Your eyes twinkled apologetically as you had no problem in receiving a glare from the fussed out witcher. "Well, that sounds like a displeased hum," you stated as a matter of fact, shrugging your shoulders before straightening your spine and grabbing onto his Ivory roots again, "---and a different kind as well,"

He sighed in defeated, letting you handle his hair in spite as he simply closed his eyes. There was no more backing out as he was now sat in front of you, hair all untied as you've threatened to cut his hair with a scissor you've managed to have that was sat beside you.

"Bad kitty! You're liking this, aren't you? You like your hair being pulled!"

No answer was received and you left it at that. Thinking that maybe he wanted silence as you went on with brushing his hair with your fingers. Now, all gentle as the tangles were already free from the knots. It was certainly improvement; in Geralt's side because he stopped complaining after you scolded him so and quietly waited for you to finish; showing like he trusted you with his hair or whatever.

With a gentle tuck of his hair behind his ears, the witcher was all putty on your hands. Hearing a low rumble that resonated off him in pleasure and satisfaction because of how your touch was sending torment to the cravings he had for you.

Hence, his patience and respect he had for not throwing you over the bed and just relishing in with those insatiable desires he had for you needed and deserved an applause because of his high-capacity to resist the mania.

His appetite was surely in a famished mayhem as he breathed in slow and deep, your gentle touches that raked through his roots and his cravings growing more and more uncontrollable with each passing day and night.

Maybe, the scar you had on your chest had effects. Lewd effects for the both of you.

After minutes of comfortable---well, aching moments for Geralt; you've heard him mutter through gritted teeth in the midst of his slow breathing, "I'm not a cat."

You were already at the ends of his Ivory hair, simply braiding them in perfection as you objected, "But, you are! My grumpy kitty!"

There was no response again and you focused on braiding his marvelous hair and let the silence flow. You were actually just hearing him breath as it also calmed your nerves; a bewildering occurrence on how one's breathing could simply put you in peace.

You've grabbed onto his black ponytail which seemed to be owned by Cirilla and tightly tied onto the ends. Small hairs that seemed to not be possible in tying them down were imperfectly out of its nest; though, the ruggish effect it gave was actually making it look perfect for him.

"There! Done!" you mirthfully exclaimed, giving out a tiny tee-hee before you recklessly surrounded your arms around his musclebound shoulders. The irresistible urges just telling you to cease from being shy even just for today and be more of your unshackled self; stepping out of your timid borders every once in a while. It surprised the witcher with your touchy-feely attitude as his body went stiff when you've embraced him from behind, "See? I told you! You'll still look beautiful with your hair braided! Now, payment time, mister!"

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, clicking his tongue as he tried to find any words to say from your hasty, sweet gestures while he was not one who is used to receiving such care. Geralt had no words to say, his mind going in a haywire as he suddenly saw your palms in front of his face, begging like a peasant with your face nuzzled to his side as he weirdly stared at your palm.

"You want coins?" he skeptically questioned, your warmth and scent crashing his ability to think straight. You've dropped your arm around his shoulders, your actions seeming to surprise you as well but you paid no heed and just wanted him closer; his warmth insatiable as you hugged Geralt tighter. Your warm touches giving his body to adjust and be used to it as you felt him slowly relaxing against your hold.

You peeked from the side of his face, giving him a twinkle of those vindicated eyes as he languidly turned his head to see you giving such a naive look that he couldn't help but be fond of everyday. If it would take his hair to be braided for you to sweetly look at him like how you do right now; he would take the risk on letting his hair get yanked, "I don't know. Whatever payment you have in mind---I would love it,"

Faces were inches apart. You've seen the way his eyes glow in sudden mischief. His risquè suggestion making your heart warm in a way that got your ravenousness fueled as your face felt the blush and sudden excitement, "The one I have in mind is quite unseemly for your chastity,"

You gave a giggle, always loving how he'd intensely stare into your eyes like you've given light to his darkness; that type of glow inside his eyes that got your insides churning whenever he does, "Aren't you playful and naughty today, Geralt?!"

Geralt gave a tight-lipped smile; knowing you wouldn't accept his ravenous suggestion because of particular things he knew about. The witcher knew he wasn't wrong, he can never be wrong by what he was sensing.

However, a rare smirk was promptly shown, the ingenuous flicker inside your eyes changing in just a snap of one's fingers as it turned suggestive and playful, "What if I actually want that?"

It was what your heart wants and what those voices inside your head has been whispering. The mere idea of Geralt defiling your chastity that you have been treasuring because no other men deserved was utterly thrilling and worth it.

Not because of the thought that he was striking, but he was the only man you've wholeheartedly trusted and probably have given your heart like he was a king no matter how unsure of what you were in his life.

Closer and closer, you went in for the kill. Just his golden peepers alone was enough to pull you into a hypnotizing trance as you closed the space between you both, landing your lips to his in a soft, birdsweet peck that got you insides melting and the desire rapidly coming back in scorching flames, "I thought you wanted to indulge my curiosity all night long?"

Your words were temptingly drawled slower as your warm breath hit those ajar lips of his, an impenetrable haze in his eyes that suddenly brought uncertainty to what Geralt actually meant the last time you had the bathroom moment, your sudden confidence kind of wavering but still you've wanted to see how he was fond of you the way you also had your affections for him, "When I told you I was curious, it’s true, Geralt."

You've brushed your lips together and felt the witcher sigh before you had given one last honeyed kiss to his lips in which Geralt had puckered back, raising your hopes that he was solicitous about you.

'More,' his consciousness and emotions echoed, kissing you back with the same tenderness you held for him. He seemed like he was about to deepen the kiss; breathing through his luscious lips before you've felt the pillowy vermillion brush against yours as he abruptly ceased, hearing him lowly growl as he kept the tip of his nose, touching yours in an eskimo kiss before slowly pulling away to your disappointment.

The hesitation of wanting to deepen the kiss shot a sting to your heart; your overthinking self reading his actions that you've misunderstood his feelings that it was downright doting because you were head over heels for him after quite sometime.

But, hearing his next words immediately brought a weight down your chest, feeling the ineptness, dismay and shame for even suggesting lechorous behaviors that made you feel shameful because you think that it was rejected; thinking he rejected you.

He bedded tons of women. So, what makes you different?

You probably just weren't worth it.

"You don't mean that," Geralt lowly grumbled, his robust shoulders moving from how deeply he was breathing; ceasing himself from doing anything more further as the witcher continued to dispassionately utter, "---I don't deserve it,"

You hardly ignored the shame trying to strangle you into feeling such tightness around your throat as you unlatched your arms around his shoulders, skeptically eyeing the witcher who avoided your eyes, "What do you mean you don't deserve it, Geralt? You do,"

Were you desperate? Was the irresistible sensations making you act this way? Maybe. Howbeit, you would never regret every little thing you do for Geralt because it was what your heart has been telling you to do and not just your impulsive decisions.

Yet, the more he'd talk; it felt like as if the only thing you would regret was asking him what he meant.

Geralt heavily swallowed, jaw tightening as he apathetically muttered, "I'm guessing it's the Djinn's work that is talking,"

His response to your question ignited such ferocity inside your heart, shooting straight to your mouth as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Did you misunderstood everything he has said when you were important to him? Deeply thinking that him and you were actually in the same page when his gestures and words right now seem to be the opposite?

"Are you saying that what I feel about you isn't true?" you questioned in disbelief. The scoff automatically being done as you've seen the tight scowl that Geralt has managed to put up again, "---That it's all...magic? The thing happening between us?"

You've tightly bit the insides of your cheeks, watching him stay silent and cease from opening up to you as he went on in avoiding your gaze and looking like he was the one who'd been rejected when it was you.

Thus, a continuation of your vulnerability went on despite of his stillness, your honesty probably will rue once it was said and done, "---before the Djinn even happened, you've been clouding my mind since then," a breathless pause. "---Since the first day I've been here, it felt like I was bound to fall for you, Probably, because the reason why I'm here is because...you are also here,"

Your candor has gotten the best of you and when Geralt was about to open his mouth for whatever that he wanted to say, your anxiety has managed to take over as you stood up from the bed in haste, feeling your palms tickle in humility from how everything that has been planned went down the hill because you misunderstood everything.

"Midget---"

You tightly swallowed the tightness stuck in your throat, finally feeling his gaze on you but you chose to look away; eyes now downcast as your toes fidgeted inside your boots, voice cracking when the apprehension was starting to take a toll as it was harshly plucking with your heart strings, "It's fine. We're just probably not on the same page yet and I understand why. Who would want me even?"

Geralt has been ruffled by your sudden assumptions, yet he chose to stay silent and be upset by whatever lies he'd been hearing; only having the actions to grit his teeth together as you restlessly tried your best to steer clear of your own dismayed feelings.

You shuffled on your feet, briskly walking towards the door before giving him a faltering gaze of yours as you awkwardly pointed at his perfectly braided hair while you stammered and tried to get a hold of yourself from the mortifying, stinging shame, "It's probably just...the genie effects doing these effects on me---I'll go apologize to Jaskier or something---Don't take that off, okay?!"

Hence, Geralt could only watch you leave as it was obvious that he'd upset you by his complicated behavior. Thus, leaving his heart stinging as well; feeling the same way as you.

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY CURSING ME FOR MAKING AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER 13.1 AHONHONHONHON XD (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, buddy! Please do check your settings, bb! Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthorr @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky

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scrambleddragonegg · 4 years ago

Text

Alright dumbasses here we fuckin go

I am literally writing this directly on my tumblr so shhhhh it’s fine. this is for @cephuss because they’re the only person i’ve gotten a prompt from.

I am literally begging you to send more I want to contribute to the fandom <3

Also, please put them under where it says to give me prompts. I did not specify before but I just figured that this would be easier to keep them together :D

BkDk - Izuku’s dad comes back during first year and isn’t nice. Erasermic adopts Izuku.

Izuku openly sobs once they’re all back at the station. Kacchan is safe now. He’s here. He’s not with the League. Not with him.

He’s still clinging to his childhood friend and bully like a lifeline when he has to talk to Tsukauchi. He’s shocked that the explosive boy hasn’t tried to pry him off yet, but he doesn’t question it, too afraid to ruin the little bit of peace they have right now. It’s going to be okay now. It has to be.

At least, it would be if Izuku didn’t see the look of recognition in All for One’s eyes.

When All Might all but passes the torch onto Izuku on live television, he nearly faints.

“C’mon Deku, we’re going home.” Katsuki grumbles as he sees the short boy begin to pale.

“R-Right. Coming Kacchan.” Izuku answers, trying his hardest to regain the breath that scene stole from him. Trying being the keyword. He fails.

He doesn’t answer Katsuki’s solemn goodbye as they part ways on their journeys home. He doesn’t dare speak. Not when Izuku and his mother know what’s going to happen. Not when everything feels so unbelievably hopeless.

Izuku wakes up and knows something’s off. He quietly tries to grab his phone and two hoodies before he plans his escape, but halfway to his closet, the door creaks open and All for One himself looks his way.

“Hello, son.” All for one says. His voice makes Izuku want to hide, but the boy knows that this isn’t an option.

“Where’s mom.” Izuku fires, never once does his own wellbeing come to mind.

“Inko? Don’t worry about her. She was means to an end anyway. While you weren’t supposed to exist, I can’t help but thank her for not getting rid of you. After all, you’re why I’m here.”

Izuku flinches at the notion and tries to push his voice out once more, firmer this time.

“Where is my mother.” He demands once more.

“I think you know where your mother is. Don’t worry though, you’ll be joining her soon. Tomura.” All for One steps to the side, revealing his apprentice, who launches himself at Izuku.

Activating One for All, Izuku jumps, the ceiling and roof giving at the force and allowing him through. He stands on the roof, looking around wildly for an escape route. He has to get out of there.

As if on cue the place goes up in flames.

“No!” Izuku cries, jumping to another roof, his hands and legs shaking with fear. He has to use this adrenaline to get somewhere safe. He has to find out for sure if his mom is-

Izuku starts to sprint toward UA, but stops shortly after.

Pressing the call button, Isuku hopes he pressed the right number because he doesn’t have another shot at this. He doesn’t know if he’ll make it to UA in time. Hell, someone could be waiting for him to run there, couldn’t they? What about all of the people and houses in between here and there? He can’t stray too far from the villains, he decides, keep people safe.

A knife nicking his cheek is enough of a clue as ever that he should start to move again.

“Hello? How are you Midoriya, my boy?” All might’s voice comes through the speaker just as another knife comes flying.

“Toga! Don’t bloody him up too much, we need him alive!” Shigaraki’s voice bellows.

“Young Midoriya?” All Might. Right.

“All for One... Mom... Help!” Izuku cries, out of breath. He can’t focus on the call for obvious reasons, and hangs up before throwing his phone away, hearing it shatter. No time to worry about it now.

The bell rings and Katsuki stiffens. He’s not here. He’s never just not here. The little shit would come to school half-dead. He has! So where the hell is he?

“Well, I guess this is everyone today. Has anyone seen Midoriya? Avoiding class will not mean avoiding the punishment you are recieving for directly disobeying what I told you. Not that that surprised me...” Aizawa mutters. As if on cue, a knock at the door calls Aizawa out of the classroom. Bakugo stands and walks toward the door as well.

“Bakubro, where are you going?” Kirishima asks, confused as to why the blonde stood.

“Something’s wrong.” He says, letting the door close behind him.

“Bakugo, go back to your seat.” Aizawa mutters, rubbing hi forehead in annoyance.

“Not until one of you explains where Deku is. He doesn’t miss class unless he can’t get here. Something’s wrong.”

“Very observant Young Bakugo. I was just going to talk with Aizawa about that, actually. I recieved a call from Young Midoriya this morning and it was odd. It was also grounds for concern and seeing as I can no longer do hero work... His father is after him.”

Explosions spark in Bakugo’s palms.

“WHAT? That piece if shit?! I’ll kill him!” This seems to shock All Might more than it should. He visibly flinches.

“Y-You know who his father is?” All might asks, barely able to keep his voice even.

“I don’t need to know who he is to know that he’s a piece of shit that fucking left Auntie and Deku the second he was born!” Bakugo counters, glaring daggers at both teachers who he assumes will stand in his way.

“Young Bakugo, there’s something else that I believe both of you should know. Izuku’s father is very well known in the underworld, you see. He’s got enough connections to essentially make the boy ‘disappear’.” All Might says, trying to stress the importance the previous phrase had.

“So who is he?” Eraserhead asks. His voice betrays nothing but if you pay attention you can see that he’s just about ready to just go get Izuku himself.

“All for One.”

Izuku manages to barely dodge the wall of blue flame headed his way, pressing himself up against the alley wall. He’s almost out of options. He hopes someone comes for him soon because if they don’t then it’s going to be very bad.

“I hear you mumbling, brat.” Dabi’s voice nearly growls. Not a second later, he’s holding Izuku against the wall by the collar of his shirt. He struggles for breath, kicking wildly and thrashing around with as much force as he can muster in his exhausted state.

“Let him go, Dabi.” A familiar voice sighs. Izuku looks over and is immediately filled with relief as he sees his homeroom teacher.

Dabi smirks, an idea forming in his head if Izuku observes correctly.

“What, you’ll save him? You’ll save the kid of the top villain but you won’t help the children in Endeavor’s house?” He asks, not letting Izuku go just yet.

This makes Eraserhead stop in his tracks.

“What do you know about Touya’s case?” Eraserhead snarls.

“Enough to know that you couldn’t save him Eraserhead.” Dabi returns before chucking Izuku like a doll towards the undergroud hero.

“Just this once, I’ll let him go. But only because he’s not the one I have beef with.” Dabi says as he stalks off down the alleyway before turning the corner and disappearing.

Aizawa reaches out with his capture-weapon and catches the boy, but by the time he’s in the hero’s arms he’s passed out. Just what was this kid doing?

“What do you mean his father is All for One?” Aizawa snarls, just about ready to throw the skinny man out of a window.

“I mean that his father is All for One, Aizawa. His father is also after him right now. Young Midoriya needs help and he can’t run forever.”

Bakugo stands there in shock. He... That monster is after Deku?

That monster is his father?!

FUCK!

“Language, Bakugo.” All Might scolds as Aizawa wastes no time taking off after the green haired boy.

“The idiot knew he’d be after him, so why did he go home alone last night?! Fucker was muttering about his father the entire way home and I didn’t- FUCK! I need to go after him.” Bakugo says finally, taking a step to follow Aizawa before All Might grabs him, stopping him.

“Young Bakugo, I understand your concern, but we just got you back. You of all people are not leaving this building.” All Might says solemnly.

“Shitty nerd better be alright or I’ll kill him myself.” Bakugo snarls.

When Aizawa finally returns to the classroom, the students are on him immediately. Some of them apparently saw some footage of Izuku being hunted down by the League of Villains and are extremely worried for their classmate.

“Is he okay?!”

“He shattered his left leg. I don’t know how he was walking.” Aizawa says. He’s not focused on the other students at the moment, however. He’s focused on how the hell Izuku managed to somehow leave out that All for One is his father.

“His house was on fire too! Is his mom okay? He’ll be devastated if anything happens to her!” Uraraka cries out. The rest of the class voices their agreements.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen Ms. Midoriya. Don’t ask Midoriya about it though, he’s having a rough time.” Aizawa answers truthfully. He then begins to wonder where the woman is and if she’s dead or alive.

“How is he, Sensei?” Bakugo asks. The room starts to quiet down before decending into chaos once more. Bakugo is showing concern? For Izuku? This must be bad.

“He passed out as soon as I found him. He’s exhausted and hasn’t eaten or drank anything since lunch yesterday. My guess is that he woke up and had to take off.” Aizawa explains simply.

The blonde looks like he might actually kill someone.

This is going to be interesting.

The last bell rings and Katsuki all but sprints out of the room. He’s fuming. These assholes had the audacity to hurt Deku. To hunt him down for hours. What the fuck.

“DEKU!” Katsuki roars as he pushes the doors to the infirmary open with a slam.

“Kacchan!” Said boy yelps, scrambling to sit up.

“No- Shit! Don’t move. You need to rest and all that shit. I just came to make sure you weren’t dead.”

Katsuki hates that Deku coos at him for being concerned. Of course he’s concerned, damnit!

It’s quiet. Neither of them know what to say to the other, seeing as they haven’t had a real conversation in years.

“How long have you known?”

“What?” Deku answers, confused.

“How long have you known that he’s your father, Deku. Why did you come after me if you knew?” Katsuki asks, flinching at the roughness his voice displays. Izuku humms, thinking. Then he speaks.

“I’ve always known.” He says simply.

“And All Might? How long has he known that you’re the son of his arch nemesis?”

This makes Izuku flinch. The nerd has the audacity to twiddle his thumbs anxiously. He looks up and back at his lap, embarrassed. Good.

“I- He told me I looked like him. That he can see my father in the way my hair curls and- So I guess he’s known for a while now too, huh?” Deku responds, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Katsuki stands up, turning to leave without a word.

“Wha...? K-Kacchan! Where are you going?” Deku asks, panic filling his voice. The blonde turns, shooting Deku a sad look. He really doesn’t want to leave, but he knows Recovery Girl wants the idiot to rest and not talk all night.

“Go to sleep, Nerd. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

With that, he’s gone.

He doesn’t come back to the infirmary to visit Izuku. He barely even acknowledges Izuku’s existence.

Until they fight at Ground Beta.

It’s blood and sweat and tears and lots of just beating the shit out of eachother but both of them come out of it better than they went in.

It’s been months since the incident and Shota Aizawa (the absolute sap that the man is) decided that he and Mic were going to take in the problem child. Izuku is happy. He misses his mom like crazy, but he’s happy. The thing that took him from how far he came right back to the beginning though was when Aizawa came home one night from patrol. He’d been searching for Izuku’s mother since the day he was atttacked and hasn’t had any luck. He got a call that solidified what he already suspected.

That night, he and Hizashi sat Izuku down and the boy was an anxious mess while he wondered just what his guardians wanted to tell him. They even let Bakugo come over to comfort their little green bean.

“Izuku... Your mom is dead.”

#bkdk #bakudeku #erasermic #dadzawa #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #yamada hizashi #hizashi yamada #Dad for One #angst #I hate myself but here we go

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roro-mo · 4 years ago

Text

Love can wait

Hi all,

i posted this fanfic on fan fiction.net in the New Year and thought I should share this on tumblr for those who are looking for more ZoNa, just like me. You can find this here.

This was one of my first fanfics but I haven’t updated the story in like forever so am looking to go back to writing fanfics. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy the chapter as much as I did.

You don’t need to read the other chapters as they are not really connected - sort of. We haven’t entered the main plot at all so not connected as of yet. But reading chapter 6 may help you understand some of the things in this chapter.

Summary: What if Zoro and Nami were childhood friends? How different would their lives be? Lot's of one shots set in an AU where Zoro and Nami are childhood friends. Mugiwara crew will also make an appearance. (It’s one of those close balcony friendship - cringe i know lmao, was young when I started LOL)

Rated: M (just to be safe)

Disclaimer: One piece is not mine.

Also, Italics are what the characters are thinking.

Zoro was completing his usual workout, but from home. He groaned, lifting the 15 kg weights for the 96th time. He needed to lift the weights 4 more times and he had to do it soon or Nami was going to barge in, ruining his schedule.

"97...98...99" he counted. He was lifting it for the last time when he smelt her signature fragrance.

"100" he grunted, dropping the weights and closing his eyes in peace. He felt her soft bosom on his back and her arms around him, as she completely pushed her body against him.

A single trail of sweat dropped from his temple to his cheek from the work out. He was too tired to push her away so he stood still, just breathing in and out to stabilise his heartbeat. However, this proved to be difficult as he could only smell her with every breath, and felt her soft small hands on his abs...wait... did he just feel her hands underneath his shirt?

"What the hell witch?" he spat, as his hands automatically stopped hers from outside of his shirt.

Nami was a flirt and loved teasing men, especially Zoro. She loved taking advantage of her beauty and loved getting her way. It was either her way or the highway. She was a greedy witch and she loved every part about it.

"Zoroooo" she said with a tone, a tone Zoro knew too well. It was a tone she used to get her way. A tone that often worked in nosebleed kun, which was not going to work on him.

"Seriously, what are you doing Nami?" he said, turning his head slightly to see what Nami was up to.

"I'm helping you remove your top." She said trying to move her hands, which was useless as Zoro clutched onto them.

"What do you want?"

"To eat." Nami said cheerfully. Today both their parents were out drinking while Nojiko was at university so it was only him and her. But their parents trusted them, hell they even encouraged to utilise their alone time and do something naughty. Nami's stepfather, Genzo, loved Zoro's wisdom and the way he respected elders. He would want nothing but for Zoro to take his no good spoilt daughter as his wife. While Zoro's father loved having Nami around and would be happy if someone, anyone could accept his muscle idiot of a son.

"And what does eating have anything to do with getting naked?" Zoro said with an eyebrow.

She withdrew her hand from underneath his t-shirt, away from his well built abs. Zoro was saddened at the departure of her warmth but was glad at the same time.

She pinched her nose, "well you kinda stink."

"Hurry and go take a shower. We are going to Baratie." she said, folding her arms, knowing Zoro was going to complain about meeting Sanji-kun.

"Baratie?" Zoro said, his voice slightly louder than he intended it to.

"Yes Baratie, Zoro, Baratie" Nami repeated it twice for her words to reach Zoro's head.

"We will be meeting up with Luffy there as well. Have a nice dinner and drink something nice. Well, Luffy won't. But we can." she said, making drinking gestures.

Zoro liked the idea of drinking with Nami. Maybe, they could resume their ongoing bet as well. Their bet of who can withstand drinks longer was still on hold as they either tie or come out drunk at the end of it. But seeing that shit head took the fun out of it.

He turned around, wiping his forehead clean with his left arm, showing off his biceps in the process. Nami's eyes fluttered to his biceps, enjoying the view he presented her.

"Will we see nosebleed kun as well?" he asked.

She made a face, "who is nosebleed kun? Don't make fun of Sanji kun." She said slapping his chest. Just to feel how hard it was and oh, it was hard.

"Just answer the damn question." he said, removing his top in front of her. His whole body seemed to be living as Nami could see each and every muscle in his body ripple against his skin whilst he removed his t-shirt. His nipples whispered hello to her and oh god, his abs. She trailed a single sweat that dropped from his neck, which made its way between his collar bone, past his chest, crossed his abs and disappeared in his belly button

"like what you see?" He said smirking at how fixated she was with his abs.

She quickly looked up to see him smirking at her, with that stupid grin. She was not gonna let him be the only winner.

"Nope, not at all." she said turning, throwing her hair to his face in the process, and moving towards the door. Zoro closed his eyes naturally and as he opened his eyes to shout some vain remarks to Nami, all he saw was her ass and hips moving side to side towards the door. She didn't need to say anything because she knew he was already looking.

"Be ready by 5 and come over as soon as you're ready." She said before leaving the room completely.

"Oh and invite law." she said with a wink.

///////////

Zoro was ready in 10 mins. He put on a simple white top, jeans and a simple black denim jacket. He looked over his balcony to the other side with a frown.

She is definitely still getting ready.

He went over anyways to pressure her into getting ready quicker, only to find her putting on a skirt that didn't fit. Zoro could see the plumps of skin near the waist of the skirt and her ass as she was struggling to put it on. She was wearing a pink lace thong that illuminated the pale skin underneath. His shameful eyes drank the scene in front of him; her buns juggled as she shook her ass to try to fit the skirt. Damn, that is one big ass, he thought. His hands twitched to slap her right cheek but he shook the thoughts away.

"I don't think that fits Nami." He spoke in a low husky voice.

His voice surprised her, causing her to trip over herself and lose her balance, falling face forward. As a result, her ass was high up in the air and Nami put herself on display for him. He choked on his own spit at the scene in front of her. And that thong was not helping, it practically covered nothing with her ass high up for him to see.

With a tint of blush, he turned around to give her privacy.

"What the hell Zoro!" she turned her head from the ground and was relieved when she found him facing the other way.

She got up and got rid of the skirt. The skirt was velvet and in the colour red. It was short enough to show her smooth legs and just long enough to cover the important parts. Although the skirt didn't fit her, she got it on a 80% sale and her first instinct was to buy it. It was a bargain and was the last piece after all! It's a shame it doesn't fit as it would definitely look good on her.

She was dressed casual for today and was wearing a white cami top with lace detailed front. She was going to wear that velvet skirt with it but decided to replace it with high waisted ripped jeans. She felt a bit exposed after Zoro found her in her thong trying to wear a skirt that didn't fit! So she decided to go with something that would cover her legs.

"Just so you know," she said putting one leg through her jeans, "I'm charging you for that." She said putting the other leg in.

"What the hell witch!" he complained.

"How dare you walk in here and try to see me naked. I didn't peg you to be a Sanji, Zoro." She said walking towards her makeup table to brush her hair. Sanji is a term they use as an inner joke to call men who basically, well, act like Sanji-kun.

After what seemed to be an appropriate time to Zoro, he turned around to state his dissatisfaction.

"Well, it's not my fault you're not ready yet. You're the one who told me to hurry and now you're the one who's not ready. How is it my fault that you're still getting dressed after an hour?"

"You tell me to come over and now, you tell me not to come over, make up your damn mind witch." He said with a frown.

"Zorrroooo, I'm a woman. I'm allowed to take time to look my best." She said in a haughty manner.

She stood up, happy with her hair and turned to him.

"This," she said waving at her body, "doesn't happen overnight. It takes me time to look this good."

He just scoffed. Although he wanted to disagree and say she wasn't all the hotshot she thought she was, he didn't want to make her change clothes, which is something she would do if he disagreed.

He went to sit on her bed and complained that she was slow again.

"Did you call Torao-kun?" She asked reapplying her lipstick one final time. She checked her makeup once more before spraying her setting spray.

"Yes woman, yes, I called your ride." He said with a displeased voice.

Zoro met Law as a child in a kendo club. He was 5 and Law was 10. Zoro was always working hard and stayed behind every time to train harder. He muttered about getting stronger and this piqued Trafalgar D. Water Law's interest in the little boy. Law always teased Zoro for being a little boy yet having big "goals", to which Zoro always challenged Law and they somehow ended in a draw everytime. After leaving the kendo club, Zoro was still close with Law and had been together in every stage of each other's life. Nami and Luffy met Law only after an incident that required Luffy to visit the hospital.

Luffy unfortunately amputated his pinky finger from one of his stupid antics. Nami freaked out so much that she almost fainted when she heard the pinky land on her bedroom floor with a tap. Zoro fortunately knew Law who was a medical student. Law was from a family of doctors and his dream was always to follow his father's footsteps. He would spend hours reading on human anatomy and diseases when he was a child. Law was very smart as a child and eventually skipped grades before he entered medical school.

Zoro remembered law immediately and asked him for first aid through the phone. As they both sounded so distressed over the phone, Law asked them to visit his hospital where he was working as a placement. Zoro and Nami rushed Luffy to the hospital while Luffy was wailing and sobbing about his missing finger. Law helped Luffy calm down and proceeded to ask routine questions about the incident before helping to reattach his finger with surgeons (one of them being his dad). Thankfully, it was a success due to the first aid Law provided. Law was so surprised at how Luffy severed his finger, somewhere along the line due to his interests in Luffy's case, he became Torao and Luffy's friend without his approval. All he said was "so how did you cut your finger?" And Luffy hasn't left him alone since then. Nami thinks it's because Luffy was hysteric over his cut pinky and thanked Torao for (in Luffy's term) "saving his life."

Oh but Zoro knew. He's been with Law for a very long time and they grew up together after all. Zoro knew that wasn't the reason why Law still hangs around Luffy and Nami, and sometimes without Zoro. He's seen the stolen glances and the way law looks at Nami. Law wouldn't be wasting his time to drive them to Barati if he didn't fancy her.

A car honk was heard from outside of Nami's window. Zoro didn't miss the small smile that crawled on Nami's face and wore an annoyed look on his own. Nami sprinted out to her balcony and waved at her older friend.

She turned around and said "let's go!"

Zoro followed her with heavy footsteps. But he still followed her, he was compliant every time and he didn't know why.

As they got nearer to the parked car, Law lowered his passenger window and Nami leaned in on the opened window, revealing her cleavage to the driver. Zoro grimaced, acutely aware of what she was doing. Nami smiled and whispered a sweet 'thank you'.

That's when it hit Zoro. This witch knew. She knew Law had a thing for her and was using him like a Sanji.

Law's eyes followed the top that slightly slid down as Nami leaned over and settled at the cleavage that revealed itself to him. Law smiled in response and gestured Nami to get in the car. To save Law's dignity, Zoro shoved Nami aside and got in the front seat.

"Hey, what the hell?" She asked, ticked off at Zoro's actions.

"Sit at the back." he said gesturing behind him to the back seat.

She pouted because now she would have to sit alone at the back but got in anyways as she was hungry.

Baratie was a beautiful and a fancy restaurant owned by Chef Zeff, who Sanji admires and sees as a father figure.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by a well-lit restaurant with full-length windows around the whole restaurant for natural light. At night, the bulbs that hung on the ceiling were lit in different colours - purple, red, yellow, all creating beautiful lighting during the night. The wall was painted an elegant white, which matched well with the light pink velvet carpet on the floor. In the centre of the restaurant, one could find stairs leading down to the kitchen and up for more seating.

The receptionist recognised the distinct hair colours of Sanji's friends and she didn't even have to ask them about their reservation. She welcomed them and took them straight to the table reserved for "Sanji's queen" as was directed by Sanji in the morning.

"Here are the menus."

She didn't recognise the guy with the tattoos but proceeded to ask the other two whether they would like to order the same as usual.

Nami closed her menu and sweetly smiled before nodding her head. Her usual at the Baratie was a medium steak with chips and red wine, while Zoro's was a signature bacon burger with melted cheese and chips. Law read through a couple of pages before ordering a classic carbonara with white wine. She nodded before proceeding to head towards the kitchen.

Nami was sitting across Zoro and Law was sitting in between them. Zoro saw Nami looking around and guessed she was looking for Sanji.

"Where's Luffy? I thought we were supposed to meet him here." Zoro asked Nami. Nami finally looked at Zoro, he doesn't know why but it felt like she hasn't looked his way today at all. Frankly speaking, Nami was too embarrassed to look at Zoro after the whole thong incident.

With her cheek on her palm, she responded "You'll see him soon enough! He was supposed to come with us but he said he'll already be here by the time we arrive."

Zoro munched on some garlic bread and asked, "Where's nosebleed Kun?"

"Who's nosebleed kun?" Law asked as he didn't remember anyone who was called that.

"Yes, Zoro, who is nosebleed kun?" Nami asked sarcastically, tilting her head to the side.

As if Sanji heard her, he came running with the drinks while singing "Nammmiiiii-swannnnn!"

"My love, my body has been waiting this whole day for this moment." Sanji said, skilfully twirling towards her, without dropping any of the drinks on his way.

"Ah, Sanji kun!" she said clapping her hands together.

"Here you go mademoiselle, one red wine." He said, kneeling down for her.

"Hey, where's my drink?" Law questioned, but it was completely ignored by Sanji.

"Thank you." Nami said lifting her hand gracefully and touching Sanji's cheek.

"I missed you so much." She cooed.

"I can't wait to eat the food your very hands made." she said touching his hands now.

"Namiii-swannn, I know our love was meant to be. For you, I've cooked only the finest and delicious food."

"Ahhh, but I don't have enough money to pay for the finest meals in your restaurant." She said with an act.

"And it's all free for you Nami-swan." Sanji said holding Nami's hand on his and lifting it lightly to kiss her hand.

She giggled.

"Great thank you, expected nothing less from you, Sanji-kun." She said rubbing his chin before looking at the two pairs of eyes watching her in shock.

"You're going to hell." Zoro stated.

"And you, how can you be so dumb you idiot cook."

"It's not free for you shitheads. You guys have to pay." Sanji said to the boys coming out of his love trance.

"Nami-ya, if you can't pay for it then I will pay for you. You don't need to resort to such...err…" His words died on his lips when she sent an angry look directed at him.

"No, thank you law. You guys owe me money, not the other way around. I don't mind a free meal but I don't want to owe you." She said in a pompous manner.

If this was a cartoon, Zoro's eyes would've literally come out of their sockets.

"How in the world is it any different to what you're doing to nosebleed kun?" Zoro said facepalming.

He could hear the 'ohhh, he's nosebleed kun' on the background as law finally put two and two together.

After handing out the drinks including Law's and Zoro's, Sanji lit his cigarette and looked at the tattooed man before him.

"Who the hell are you and why are you calling Nami-swan without honorifics you shithead?" He said, trying to intimidate law.

"Now now, calm down Sanji-kun. He's a friend." Nami introduced Law to Sanji and vice versa.

"By the way, Sanji-kun, do you know where Luffy is?"

"Oh, you didn't know? He's working with us to pay for his tab because he's a big eater." Sanji said taking another puff.

"Are waiters allowed to smoke here? What a terrible service this restaurant has." Law said as a little bit of jealousy stung him when he saw how close Nami was with this "nosebleed kun".

"Huhhhh, what did you say you tattooed shit head. Don't think I'll be intimidated by the word death tattooed on your dainty little fingers." Sanji said rolling his sleeves.

"Oh boy" Nami shook her head.

"He's a chef, not a waiter and yes, why are you waiting our table you idiot. Go back to the kitchen. I don't want to see your face, shitty cook." Zoro said crossing his arms.

"You asshole, you wanna fight. I'll take both of you on." Sanji said making a commotion on his restaurant, causing many customers to look his way now.

Once the customers started whispering about Nami's table, Patty, the rowdy chef in charge of Sanji, came out stomping his feet.

"What are you doing here Sanji? You should be inside the kitchen. You're making a fuss and disturbing other customers." He practically screamed at Sanji, making things only worse.

"Now come apologise." Patty pulled Sanji and apologised to others by bowing to the customers and forced his neck to bow as well.

As Sanji and Patty were apologising to everyone, a corner table got Nami's attention when both the customers started acting a little strange. Zoro, on the other hand, was watching Nami instead during the commotion and had seen the table that caught Nami's attention. Nami's attention was then taken away from said table by Luffy.

"Oiiii Namiiiiii, everyone, you guys made it." Luffy said cheerfully while waving his arms.

Nami's eyes widen in shock, "Luffy be careful, you're carrying a lot of food, it might all come ….."

Before she could finish the sentence, she heard a loud noise which now caught everyone's attention in the restaurant.

Luffy lost his balance and dropped all the plates of food he was carrying.

"Luffy you bastard, that better not be Nami-swan's food." Sanji said walking towards him.

Patty just screamed, knowing it was the wrong decision to hire Luffy as a chore boy. They were losing more money than making money!

Law was quiet as he watched the scene unfold before him. Sanji was beating Luffy and Patty was beating Sanji while Luffy just cried and said "shumimashe". But if it is one thing Law knows about Luffy, it is that wherever Luffy goes, trouble always seem to follow him.

Nami sighed. Great, yet another perfect day, well night, wasted. She thought.

She moaned as she got up from her seat, she was tired of the same shit happening each time they went out together. Before she could walk away, Zoro's question stopped Nami on her tracks.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"For fresh air and away from these idiots." She said pointing at the two chefs and Luffy who was also beginning to fight back after shouting "I didn't want to work as well." on the top of his lungs.

Oh but Zoro knew. He knew where she was going, he had watched her the whole day after all.

He watched her as she walked past the trio, who were still arguing about the wasted food, and saw the path she was taking. She was planning to go towards the back door, which leads to Baratie's beautiful garden where one could enjoy food and nature together. But the table that caught her eye earlier was on her way as well.

That clever witch.

She walked towards the back door, her waist moving from left to right and then finally stopped when she was next to the table in question. He watched her as she turned her head towards the table, as if someone called her name and saw the smile that creeped on her face. As soon as she looked at the table, the two people visibly jumped and looked towards the window, avoiding Nami's gaze. To their dismay, Nami started walking towards their table.

Zoro chuckled and Law made a mental note never to go anywhere with these psychos. Two were still arguing in front of him, his food all spilled on the floor, and his friend was laughing at the sight like a psycho. Psychos, they're all psychos!

Zoro got up to follow Nami. He started to become extremely curious and wanted to know who Nami found sitting at the table.

"Well, well, well." Nami said hand on her hip.

"Isn't this a beautiful surprise." She said looking at the couple in front of her, their date apparently interrupted.

In front of her sat the student counselor, Nico Robin and Zoro's home room teacher, Cutty Flam, also known as Franky. Franky was hiding behind the menu while Robin nervously laughed.

Zoro's jaw dropped as soon as he caught up to Nami. "Franky, what the hell are you doing here and why are you with herrr!?"

Although Franky was a teacher and should have authority over his students, he often behaved like his students and was seen as a friend rather than a teacher by his pupil. He was always seen hanging around his students and giving life lessons to kids in school.

"So what is this, a first date or perhaps, a proposal?" Nami asked, walking towards the table, trying to work out whether this was a serious relationship.

Robin finally processed all the information and her brain switched on. She picked up her wine slowly and brought it to her lips. She was thinking of numerous ways to play this and was planning her next move. She finally smiled and held Franky's hand that was on the table.

"Yes, we are on a date," She smiled, "aren't you both as well?" She asked softly, her smile provoking Nami further.

Robin knew how gutless Nami was when it came to Zoro. Robin knew Nami could charm the whole world, yet she could not charm Zoro, with whom she's spent all her life with. Zoro was the only man that didn't fall under her spell and it ticked off Nami to her bones. Robin knew that and while Nami waits to make her move, Robin already made hers and was proudly showing off her results to Nami.

Nami frowned, recalling their first meeting. This was Robin's win.*

Nami also reached out to grab Zoro's hands before responding, "Whatever we do is none of your business." Nami did not want to disclose any information and give Robin the satisfaction of knowing whether they were going out or not.

"Let's go Zoro." Nami demanded and walked the other way, back to their table. Zoro didn't have much of a choice as she was still grasping his hand and pulled him towards her.

"Hey, where are you going? I thought you wanted fresh air!" Zoro asked while following Nami.

Nami turned around to face him. She was exhausted; she just got defeated in the battle of wits with Robin and she was hungry! She was hungry and all she wanted to do was eat and drink. She looked at Luffy who was now planning on quitting the job as a chore boy. She wanted to get away, away from all the drama and just eat, something, anything. Just as she was about to suggest going elsewhere for food, as if Zoro read her mind, Zoro asked Nami, "Wanna ditch them and go to a bar for food and drinks?"

Nami has never been happier.

"But what about Law?"

"Screw him, he'll find his way back."

Nami was happy, extremely happy with where she was with Zoro. They are good friends and understand each other well. Sure, they argue from time to time but he (yes, I said he) will always compromise for her and isn't that what a relationship is all about. She has it all and she didn't want to lose what she has with what she could have. She would rather have him near her as a friend than lose him forever. So asking him out can wait just a little longer.

"Okay."

This time, it was his turn to pull her towards the exit of the restaurant. It was going to be just him and her, just the way it should be. And the rest can starve to death, for all Zoro cares.

"Zoro, that's the wrong way!"

"Damn, it!"

/////

* Reference to chapter 6.

Hope you enjoyed it.

Hope you have a good day/afternoon/evening/night. :)

#ZoNa #Fanfic #Zona fanfic #ZONAMI #Zonami fanfic #zoroxnami #namixzoro #One piece

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lolas-writings · 3 years ago

Text

Hello loves!! I have an actual fic to share with you and not a few hundred word drabble like usual ^.^

I know y’all like rarepairs as much as I do so I’m introducing you to a new one today! I wrote a cute IidaCamie fic yesterday for Camie’s birthday as well as to celebrate the occasion for the @iidacamiebigbang that I’m a mod for hehe. You can find the fic on AO3 here or you can just read the fic below. And if you find this rarepair interesting, please feel free to check out our Tumblr or our Twitter. Enjoy!

~~~~

“Babe?” Camie calls out as she walks through the front door of her and Iida’s shared apartment. The door clicks softly as it closes behind her, eliminating the light from outside and casting their apartment in a blanket of shadows.

The lights are out, all except for the lamp edging the boundary between the foyer and the living room. Odd, because Iida should be home by now and he always complains about not seeing well when it’s dark.

“Tenya?” Camie calls out again, letting out a huff when she gets no response. She pouts as she removes her shoes and sets them to the side, noticing Iida’s worn sneakers are in their usual space, perfectly symmetrical to each other and perpendicular to the wall. If his shoes are here, then where is he?

The soft thud of socks on wood flooring echoes through the apartment as Camie ventures further inside. She passes the lamp and the lighting gradually grows dimmer, urging her to turn to the wall on her left and search for the light switch. Before she can flick it on, however, a blue piece of paper stuck on the wall beside the switch catches her eye.

‘Look on the coffee table :)’ it reads, written in Iida’s distinct penmanship. Camie smiles at the note and takes it off the wall, folding it carefully and tucking it into her pocket before she turns around. The coffee table stands directly behind her, and after her eyes adjust to the low lighting, she can make out a perfectly wrapped yellow box resting on top.

“Aw, babe, you shouldn’t have!” She calls out playfully as she approaches the present. She’s lying, of course, because it’s her birthday and she deserves to be spoiled. Something, luckily, Iida is surprisingly good at.

The blue ribbon on top comes off first, followed by the tape holding the yellow wrapping paper around the box together. It comes apart easily, meticulously, a careful calculation on Iida’s part to leave the wrapping paper in one piece for reuse later. What a dork.

After unwrapping the box, Camie carefully lifts the lid and immediately squeals when her eyes land on what’s inside. Soft black fabric, fuzzy and soft and two sizes too big, but that’s how Camie likes her sweaters. Hanging off of her shoulders and bunching up around her hips, just like how Iida’s sweaters fit.

She reaches in and pulls the sweater out of the box, unfolding it and admiring the clothing more fully. She first saw this sweater four weeks ago in the window of her favorite mall store while on a date with Iida. Oversized, extremely fluffy, and with the word, “Baddie,” written in white across the front. Exactly her kind of style, and she would have dragged Iida into the store to get one for herself if they hadn’t been on their way to meet up with their friends. Iida really does pay attention.

As she fawns over her new sweater and considers putting it on then and there, another blue note catches her eye, this time from the bottom of the box. ‘Now go check the kitchen :)’ this one reads, another silly smiley face signing the note. This note, too, gets folded and tucked into Camie’s pocket before she ventures to their kitchen, fluffy sweater in hand.

This time, the box is blue with yellow ribbons. Similarly sized and wrapped, the only difference being the color swap. She sets the sweater on the counter beside the box before tearing, not literally, into this present.

Inside is white, a stark contrast to her sweater. When she reaches in to pull the new article of clothing out it feels rougher, like denim, and sure enough, when the fabric unfolds she’s staring at a new pair of strategically ripped white skinny jeans. Something that’s been on her To-Buy list for ages. She squeals again and hugs the pair of jeans close to her chest.

Just like the first box, at the bottom lies another blue note. ‘You know, your shoes look a bit cluttered. There’s a random box taking up their space…’ Camie can’t help but giggle at this particular note. Knowing Iida, he probably took this opportunity to subtly tell her to start organizing her shoes better. Maybe she will, after all the thought and time Iida spent arranging this birthday scavenger hunt. You know, for a day or two before the chaos resumes.

Camie pushes that thought aside as she returns to the entryway of their apartment, opening the door to the closet where their shoes and heavy coats are kept. On the floor, in the midst of her mess of a shoe collection, is another box. Smaller than the previous two, but wrapped just like the first with yellow paper and blue ribbons.

Camie sinks to the floor and sets the sweater and jeans on the ground beside her. She doesn’t even bother taking the time to sit properly before reaching into the closet and pulling the box out, making quiet work undoing the wrapping paper and ribbons.

The box itself is not plain and wordless like its predecessors. This box clearly has the logo of Camie’s favorite designer shoe brand slapped on top, bold and proud. She wastes no time ripping the lid off to reveal what’s inside.

Black ankle boots with a chunky heel and studs on either side of each shoe. The same shoes she saw a random woman wearing in line at the grocery store two weeks ago. Camie remembers enthusiastically asking the woman where she got them, how much they cost, are they comfortable, and all the important questions, but Iida had stood wordlessly beside her observing the different pastries that were on sale that day. At least, that’s what she assumed, she had no idea he was listening in on their conversation.

This time, she doesn’t squeal; she laughs, wholeheartedly and unabashed, the sound echoing off the walls around her and surrounding her in her own disappointment. She really must stop secretly chastising Iida in her head for seemingly not paying attention.

She sets the shoes on the floor beside the sweater and jeans, freeing up her hands and allowing her to pull the now empty shoebox completely from the closet and into her lap. Just as she suspected, there’s yet another small blue paper with a note written on it. ‘I hope you don’t mind, I tidied up your dresser and vanity.’ She smiles again and folds and tucks the note into her pocket with the other two. After replacing the lid on the box, she retrieves her clothing and shoes and makes her way to their bedroom.

The room is dark just like the rest of the apartment, the only light source being the lights surrounding her vanity mirror. It’s enough to illuminate the single box resting perfectly centered on top, wrapped in blue paper and yellow ribbons.

She approaches the vanity soundlessly, the carpet muffling the sound of her footsteps. When she’s standing just in front of the vanity, she sets the rest of her treasures delicately on the matching chair before setting her sights on the newest box.

Just a few tugs on the ribbon here and a few flicks of her nail to the tape there is all it takes for the wrapping to fall away and reveal the box within. It’s plain again, like the first two boxes, but smaller like the third. And just like all of the previous boxes, the lid comes off easily and reveals another treasure inside.

A sleek, shiny leather newsboy cap rests inside, a stripe of white across the bill standing out against the inky blackness of the rest of the cap. She’s never seen this item before, surprisingly, but it falls perfectly within her style choices and even matches the rest of the outfit… Oh. Oh, what an absolute dork her boyfriend is.

“So?” A deep, familiar voice pipes up from behind her, startling her into dropping the hat back into the box. Camie huffs and turns around to glare at Iida, putting her hands on her hips.

“You so need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” Iida smiles and leans against the doorframe. “Giving you birthday gifts?”

“Being a total stalker.” Camie tutts and crosses her arms, a pout on her lips that juxtaposes Iida’s poor confused expression. It’s almost funny how he’s remained too dense to recognize her jokes after all these years. “I’m kidding, Tenya.”

Camie covers her mouth to suppress a giggle when Iida lets out a relieved sigh. He’s too serious sometimes but it never ceases to be absolutely adorable. After tapering down her short-lived giggle fit, Camie walks over to Iida and throws her arms around his neck, pulling him down just enough to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“You are superbly a dork.”

Iida’s cheeks flare red at the attention, but he reciprocates Camie’s hug without a second thought, his arms wrapping soundly around her waist. “Maybe, but you love it.”

“I love you, idiot.” Camie rolls her eyes but doesn’t bother pulling away from their hug.

“Hm, that too.” Iida hums and places a matching kiss on Camie's cheek, causing them both to smile. “Happy birthday.”

#iidacamie #iida tenya #bnha iida #my hero academia iida #camie utsushimi #bnha camie #mha camie #bnha rare pair #mha rarepairs #Lola Writes

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straydawg · 4 years ago

Text

when the rain stopped.

summary: killua's tears are the rain that falls. (or, a short fic where killua can't live on with gon dead.)

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Rain was falling.

You didn't know what moved you to come so far out, only to lay with your back saturated against the cold concrete as the rain washed over your body. It bruised your face with every shard of ice-like rain. There was something so violent, so excruciatingly heart-rending about the downpour. The sky was thundering in wails of misery. Raindrops surged from the sky, crashing into one another, plunging onto roofs and cars. They held no consideration for where they would land. They only poured down.

It had been like this for hours now.

Your hair was matted and soaked. You reached your hand up to the sky, feeling the pounding rain crush it. Tears, indistinguishable from the rain, streamed down the sides of your face and mingled with the rising puddle beneath you. 'Were those your tears? When had you begun crying?'

You could no longer see the sky above you, as the rain kept falling down with such fervent and passionate intensity you were forced to squeeze your eyes shut. There was no reason to cry or even be there at all, but you could feel the sky mourning.

No.

Someone was grieving.

This had to be a real person. This was desperation, heartbreak, and loss all in one.

A deep cry of thunder lamented around you, so deafening the buildings shook. Perhaps you would drown here- if you didn't die beneath the sheer pressure of the storm first.

Just what happened to cause a thunderstorm charged with this much grief?

The cries turned into whimpers, short bursts of lightning illuminating the black sky.

It was radiant.

With every fluoresce of lightning, you saw another's life flash before your eyes.

"Gon!" He shook the lifeless boy in front of him.

"No no no no NO! Please Gon," Killua screamed, holding Gon to his chest and rocking the both of them.

Tears splashed onto Gon's eyelids, but they weren't his.

"Idiot, wake up! You can't die here. You can't die yet."

"You're meeting your dad for breakfast tomorrow. Mito is planning for you to come back home in the summertime. You're just a kid...we're just kids..."

Killua clung onto him tighter with every word, but Gon fell limp in his arms. He clenched his fist into the dirt, shoving sharp debris underneath his fingernails.

Killua refused to believe it. The person he had spent years adventuring with, the one who had helped him see his worth, the one who had saved him. He couldn't be gone, just like that. No, Gon was not the type to give up, and he would never back down in a fight even if he were outmatched. He would always come out with a smile and a, "hey don't worry about me! We did it, didn't we?"

But not this time.

Killua's sweat was sticking to Gon as he tore himself away to gaze at his friend. The bright moonlight shined on Gon's face, wet with Killua's tears. It was too bright for a night like tonight. He smudged the dirt off the boy's cheeks.

"Gon. Please wake up. D-Don't be so selfish. I.. you're the most precious thing to me. You're my dearest friend. The world.. it can't turn if you aren't there." He sniffed.

A tear escaped from the corner of Gon's eye.

"K..K.."

"Gon!"

"Killua.. thank you..." Gon coughed, cracking open his eyes. "From the day I met you and everyday I've been alive since...I knew I'd never find someone else like you. You made me li-"

Killua couldn't hold back the hailstorm of sobs that wracked his body as he heard Gon's words. He was still alive. He wouldn't let him die.

"Gon, don't talk like this is the end! I'm going to save you," he began scooping up Gon's body, ready to take him somewhere- anywhere that wasn't there.

"Let me finish. I want to hold onto this last moment...with you. Please."

Killua reluctantly set him back down on the dirt, laying him gently against a wall. He never let go of his hand, in fear that Gon would fade away from him in front of his very eyes.

"You made my life worth it. Ging said.. He said to enjoy the little detours in life because those are the moments you treasure the most. You never were just a detour, Killua. You became my purpose," Gon's eyes glistened. His light was fading fast.

Those few words were apparently too much for him, as it sent him into a violent fit of coughing. There was blood oozing out from his mouth. Killua quickly wiped off the redness with his fingers and grabbed onto his friend again.

He held Gon's forehead to his.

"Don't leave me."

No response.

Killua felt an exhale of breath touch his face. He didn't dare move.

After a few moments had passed, Killua found the strength to lay Gon onto the ground, and place his own longsleeve shirt over the boy for warmth.

Gon only wore a tank top. He'd be chilly without it.

Taking some steps back, Killua stared at the boy laying on the floor. Gon looked like he had shrunk, so weak and devoid of life.

There was nothing left in Killua, but a throbbing pain and emptiness.

Falling to his knees, he let out a series of gut-wrenching screams. His sobs filled the night just as much as the stars in the sky did. He beat the floor until his hands were bloodied and mangled, unleashing strikes of lightning to the earth with every devastating blow. Hopefully, the lightning would ruin him too.

What even was the point anymore? There was no longer any light left to illuminate the dark.

Once Killua had bled himself dry of all tears and every emotion there was, he weakly looked upon Gon's form.

Hadn't he said that the world would not turn if Gon wasn't there? But why was it still going? Why was he the only one suffering this cruel loss? Why were there people who were going about their lives right at this very moment, not knowing Gon had just died?

His world could not go on without Gon, smiling him on. Pushing him on. So— he had made his decision.

Memories of all their priceless times together played in Killua's mind like a movie, as if he were experiencing each one of them again for the first time.

The time they first met—

Gon hadn't even questioned Killua's line of work. He had become his first ever friend without a second thought. No one had ever put that much faith in him before.

The time Gon brought him to Whale Island—

Killua had been shocked at Mito's generous hospitality. He had learned what a real home was like, and Gon had asked him to continue travelling with him. It made him feel special, although he had never admitted it out loud before.

The time they began Greed Island together—

He never did tell Gon the real reason he followed him there. It wasn't just to find his dad. Maybe he was embarrassed, or scared too, but the truth was obvious. He loved Gon. That's why he stayed.

The time he saw Gon lying in that stupid hospital bed—

Killua wasn't sure if he felt hurt, angry or betrayed, but the one thing he knew is that he was being torn apart. He was breaking to pieces seeing Gon dying slowly in front of him. He swore he would save him, and he did.

But he couldn't save him today.

Sitting up a little straighter, Killua took a deep breath. Turning his nen against himself, he sent the electricity force of 900,000 volts straight to his heart. Enough to kill a tortured assassin like himself.

Killua fell to the ground next to Gon, and shakily reached for his hand. Once he had made contact, he sighed and closed his eyes.

He hoped and prayed that this would count as Lover's Suicide. Maybe, if the universe cared at all, and if some force out there pitied these tormented children enough— they could have a chance at life together. Souls forever intertwined in the afterlife.

Then the rain stopped.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

❝ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴀꜱ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪᴛꜱ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ

ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟʟʏ

ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ

ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴜɴᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴀʟʟ

ꜰʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ

ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ

ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ

ᴛᴡᴏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴏʀɴ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ

ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ❞

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

author's notes: hello! i'm new to tumblr and hoping to improve my writing here and make new friends! :) this blog will be multifandom, (bsd, hxh, aot, etc.)

requests are open!

#hunterxhunter #killugon oneshot #killugonangst #gonfreecss #killua zoldyck #fanfiction #i don't know how to use tumblr tags omg help

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

another kind of green (4/?)

Emma Swan spends her days in pretty white dresses and heavy layers of makeup. Day after day and dress after dress, she poses for pictures and acts like she’s in love and having the happiest day of her life with the man standing next to her.

It’s not. This is all a gig, and at the end of the day, she’s no longer the girl in the pretty dress who’s faking getting married for a magazine cover or a wedding convention. Instead, she’s the girl who probably never wants to get married.

Little does she know, she already is.

| Based on two-trope game forgotten first meeting + accidentally married |

a/n: thanks for reading, lovely people, and thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for looking over these words even though I keep changing them on her😊

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2| 3 | 4

-/-

“Hello, love.” Killian waves to Marlene before placing a folder of some of his paperwork on her desk. “Can you do me a favor and send these up to Captain Roberts? It’s the rest of the paperwork he needed.”

“Of course. Do you need anything else?”

Killian hums and winks. “Just for you to have a good day, Marlene.”

“It’s always brightened when you come by.”

Killian huffs before forcing a brighter smile onto his face. He’s been posing for pictures for the past two hours, and he’s not sure how much more smiling he can take. This is why he has to get out of this job and get everything squared away at the station so he can do more with his life.

So he can move on.

Liam was a damn fine officer, and if he were still here, he’d be proud of Killian doing this. It’s so much more than him posing for pictures. When he was younger and had no plan in life, he’d drink too much and sleep with far too many women. That calmed down with Milah, but Liam never really saw Killian turn his life around before Liam died. He’d been there for the early years with Milah, but it hadn’t been enough.

(And on occasion, like with Emma, Killian falls back into old habits.)

Killian has always resented that Liam never saw him try to be better, has always let that hatred fester inside of him, but he’s working on it. That’s the mantra he keeps having to repeat, especially this morning at his shoot as he was poked and prodded and treated like a fucking mannequin.

“Thank you,” Killian tells Marlene. “I’ll see you soon. Thanks again.”

She opens her mouth to say something, and he braces himself for it before she simply smiles and nods, allowing him to be on his way. Killian turns on his heels and exits the police station, putting his sunglasses over his eyes and walking up the stairs only to come face to face with Detective Humbert.

Fuck.

He doesn’t know what kind of relationship Emma had with the man, but he’s got a pretty good idea. Doesn’t the guy ever stay at his desk or out in the field? That would be helpful.

“Detective Humbert,” Killian says, keeping his smile from earlier.

Graham blinks, and for a moment Killian thinks he’ll get away with this interaction without Graham recognizing him, but things don’t really seem to be going his way today.

“Jones, right?”

“Aye.” Killian reaches his hand forward to shake Graham’s hand, and Graham moves down a step until they’re on equal footing to shake hands. “Killian Jones.”

“Nice to see you, Jones. Is Emma with you today?”

Killian releases Graham’s hand to scratch behind his ear. “No. She’s working.”

He’s got no bloody clue if she’s working, but he doesn’t know what else to say. If Graham was part of Killian’s training team, he already knows he would have no chance in hell in getting his certification.

“She still modeling?”

“She is.”

They stay standing there in silence, the seconds passing by as cars speed down the road and the construction across the street carries on, the crane lifting a large beam in the air.

Graham nods, pressing a tight smile onto his face. “Tell her I said hello then,” he says before stepping down another step and walking toward the entrance.

“Humbert,” Killian calls out because he’s a fucking idiot who for some reason feels obligated to do the right thing here since he could have royally screwed up Emma’s life a few weeks ago when they were here. Graham stops walking and turns around. “Look, mate, I don’t know how to say this without making myself look like an ass, but Emma and I aren’t married.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, we are married. Legally, at least. We were both working out at a wedding convention in Vegas, got a little tipsy, and got married. We’re getting it annulled though. I was just being an ass and bothering her when I told Marlene she was my wife. I had no idea someone she knew was going to walk through the doors.”

Graham crosses his arms over his chest and sighs, staring Killian down despite the fact that Killian is on higher ground. “Isn’t there some kind of rule in Vegas that they can’t give you a license if you’re drunk?”

“Aye. Emma and I are apparently fantastic at acting sober.”

“That’s, well, that’s fucking crazy, but it does make more sense to me. Emma was never really the marrying type.”

“Pardon?” Killian says as the tiniest bit of anger boils in his stomach.

“I don’t mean it in an offensive way,” Graham explains. “There’s nothing wrong with her feeling that way. I know how she is. We were together for awhile, but I wasn’t the right man for her. Maybe you will be if you can make it past the whole getting married thing.”

Killian wants to explain that they’re not together, that they’ve never been together for anything other than a night of sex, but there have been other officers walking by he and Graham this entire time. He really doesn’t need to get into any of this. Hell, Emma will kill him if he says anything else to her ex. It’s just not his business.

“Thanks. See you around, Humbert.”

“See you around, Jones. Remember to tell Emma I said hello when you see her.”

“Of course.” Finally, Graham leaves and goes inside the station, and Killian is free to get out of downtown and go home.

He needs at least a little break before tonight.

-/-

“Oi, why are we going out to watch fireworks?”

“Because Ariel wants us to.” “And we do everything Ariel wants?”

“It’s a nice show,” Killian yells into the other room, pulling off the pair of sweats he changed into when he got home and tugging on a pair of jeans, the holes at the knees getting caught before he can pull them to his waist and button them. “And she invited us to meet them down by the harbor for dinner and the Labor Day fireworks. Ariel loves this kind of stuff, and believe it or not, on occasion it is alright to be nice to someone you care about.”

“I have a late shift at the bar tonight, mate. I don’t think I can watch the whole show, and it’s in the opposite part of the city and all.”

Killian sighs and grabs a t-shirt to put on before walking out of his bedroom and down the hallway so he can actually see Will when he’s talking to him instead of having to yell. He’s sure their neighbors love it when they do that. But he’s still tired, is still partially ready for this day to be over with, and he’s agitated enough to not want to have to put up with Will’s shit.

“Look, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. Despite your general attitude, you’re an adult. You can make your own decisions.”

Will puts down the dish he’s washing, porcelain of the plate hitting against the metal of the sink. “Don’t be an ass about it. Is this your way of guilt tripping me?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

“Fuck it, Jones,” Will groans, “you are guilt tripping me.”

Killian smiles, but he says nothing as Will keeps blinking at him.

Perfect.

Maybe he is being a bit of an ass about it.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t, you git. Now go get dressed. A and Eric are probably saving us seats at the Wharf.”

“I can stay for thirty minutes, and then I have to go to work. Not all of us can use our pretty faces to make our money.”

“Stop being jealous and put on a shirt without stains, Scarlet.”

-/-

Ariel and Eric are waiting for them at the Wharf, just like Killian knew they would be, and Ariel absolutely gushes over Will showing up. She’s got a soft spot for him, God knows why, but Killian’s glad he pulled Will out of the apartment for long enough that he would come down here even if it’s just for a beer before he goes to serve actual beers to people who are reveling in having a three-day weekend.

If Killian had a regular job, which he’d one day like to have now that he’s dropped off the rest of his paperwork for the PAT. He had it scheduled, but then it got rescheduled after the whole background check debacle and so he can take it with a bigger recruiting class that will all be in the Academy together. It’s why he’s got his phone pretty consistently in his hand waiting for an email or a text or something.

From Captain Roberts…or Emma.

He’s been thinking about her all day, pretty much ever since he ran into Graham. It’s been twenty or so days since he last saw her, since he last heard from her in a coffee shop as they hashed out the details of their annulment. She’d been more than ready to get it over with, had practically only talked about it, and he gets that. He does. Why would she want to stay married to him, especially when he gets the sense that Emma is jumpy? At first it was the nervousness outside the precinct, then how she was inside after they ran into Graham. Now he knows that she’s not one for marriage, apparently, and he went and married her the night they met.

And now that they’re trying to fix that he keeps pressing her into having an actual conversation about anything else.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Why is he trying to get to know a woman who doesn’t want to get to know him?

Oh, because she’s charming and funny and sexy as hell.

But mostly, he thinks, she’d been freaked out over the process of having to get the annulment. She was the one who brought up the lawyer but kept insisting that maybe they didn’t have to use one even if the both of them are pretty sure that they’re in so far over their heads that they need all of the help they can get.

He’s thirty years old, but sometimes Killian can’t help but feel like a kid who’s waiting for his brother to find a solution to all of his problems.

That’s not going to be something that happens ever again, and even though it’s been years, Killian still forgets that Liam isn’t here.

Is never going to be here.

Right now, all he really wants is for Emma to text him or call him or send him a damn email with the attorney’s name she decided on so that they can file the annulment papers and go ahead and get it in the system and have it be over with. Neither of them are contesting it, so it shouldn’t take too long.

Move on. He desperately wants to move on with his life.

“Earth to Killian Jones. Are you there? Is there anything going on inside of that head of yours? No? I knew pretty people couldn’t also be smart.”

“So what does that say about you, A?”

Ariel scoffs and rolls her eyes while Killian shakes himself out of his thoughts. “I think you meant to insult me, but really, all you did was compliment me.”

“He’s not very good at the insults,” Will sighs. “But he’s an expert at the compliments. He could get any woman out here to go on a date with him in five minutes.” “That sounds like a challenge.” It’s Killian’s turn to roll his eyes at Eric before reaching down and taking a sip of his beer while his eyes scan over the crowd that’s flooding the boardwalk and moving over to the open green space where several booths and food trucks are spread out with a few hundred people lounging around on their backs or sitting on chairs they brought with them to watch the fireworks and celebrate Labor Day weekend. “What do you say, Jones? You want to try that?”

Ariel slaps her husband. “We are not having Killian make a bet on whether or not he can get a woman to go out with him. That’s how every single nineties’ romantic comedy got their drama.”

“Wait. You’re opposed to this because it goes awry in a few movies?”

“And the fact that it’s kind of misogynistic. You can’t just make a joke out of someone’s feelings.”

“So if I were to tell you that I asked you out on a date because – ” Ariel moves to slap Eric again, but he catches her hand before she can touch his shoulder and then leans forward to quickly brush his lips against her cheek. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. I asked you on a date because you were the most beautiful woman in my American literature class.”

“You two are bloody saccharine,” Will mumbles.

“Hey, look at you with your big word there, Scarlet.”

“That’s it,” Will groans, standing from his chair at the table, “I’m going to work. I’ve talked, had a beer and some potato logs, and I want to go stand in the air conditioning of the bar.”

“See you at home, mate?” Killian questions.

“Yeah, whatever. Bring me home a bag of those donuts from the booth over there.”

Killian mock salutes as Will walks away, his head slowly shaking from side to side. Killian’s agitated mood seems to have passed over to Will for the most part, and he’s not even going to be sorry about it today. He needs a night where things go right.

“He loves us,” Ariel sighs. “You can tell in the look in his eyes. That’s all love there.”

“Yeah,” Killian huffs, drinking his beer while his eyes land on a woman with long, lean legs and an ass that fits perfectly inside of her jean shorts which don’t seem to be covering much of her thighs. She’s got blonde hair pulled back into a braid and…holy shit. The universe can’t seem to give him a break. Or, well, maybe it can. “Hey, Fisher?”

“Yeah?” they both say.

“Hundred bucks says I can get a woman to come over here to our table and spend the night with me.”

“We are not betting on you having sex with someone.”

Killian rolls his eyes. “No, not that kind of spending the night. I want her to spend the evening with me, and if she so chooses to come back to my place, that’s none of your business.”

“I thought we said we weren’t doing that.”

Killian leans forward and winks. “I do so love a challenge.”

And then he’s getting up and walking away from the table to the sound of Ariel’s protests of him being an asshole. And yeah, he knows that he can be, but he’s not about to be an asshole right now. He wouldn’t even think about doing this, at least not anymore, if he didn’t know who this woman was.

“Swan,” he calls out, and he sees the muscles in her shoulders tense before she turns around from the group of people she was talking to. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He can feel the eyes of everyone on them, but he blocks them out and only focuses on Emma. She’s only got on a thin top that shows off her shoulders and the curves of her breasts while also revealing her toned midriff, and he has to fight back memories of their night together if he doesn’t want his jeans to get too tight.

Of all the women in the world to be here.

“Well, you know, Boston is a big city, but it’s apparently much smaller than I thought.”

“Which is a good thing, I assume.”

“Depends on the situation.”

Killian chuckles and takes another step closer to her before glancing up at her group of friends. “Can we talk for a minute?”

“You know, I’m with my friends and – ”

“Of course she can talk to you,” one of her friends says, a woman with long brown hair full of red streaks and a wolfish smile. “She can make all the time in the world for you, handsome.”

“Ruby,” Emma hisses, “shut up.”

“A hot as hell man just came up to you because he knows you and is asking to speak. You need to go, Emma. You know what they say about droughts and everything getting dried up down – ”

“Okay,” Emma sing-songs, thrusting her hand forward to push at Killian’s chest until he’s backing away, “I will go talk to him if you shut up because none of that is true.”

“I mean, it could be.”

“Rubes.”

“Fine, fine.”

Killian’s trying to stifle his laugh. He really is, but he can’t help himself when a small chuckle escapes and he gets an absolute death stare from Emma. Ah, he’s kind of missed that. She’s a feisty lass.

“What do you need, Jones?” Emma huffs out when they get far enough away from her friends that they can’t hear the conversation.

“I was wondering why I haven’t heard from you in twenty days.”

He should not have said the exact amount of days. He shouldn’t have. That’s too much.

“The phone works both ways.”

“Ah, yes, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t have answered my calls or texts if I had tried.”

She crosses her arms, and it takes everything in him not to look at how the movement pushes her breasts up. He’s not going to be that guy. “Look, I haven’t found a lawyer yet, okay? I’ve had shoots pretty much every day for the past three weeks, and it hasn’t been at the top of my list of priorities.”

“Oh really? Ending your marriage hasn’t been at the top of your list? You were the one who said you wanted to pick the attorney because you didn’t want to work with just anyone. It’s some paperwork, Swan. I’ve done some more research and am pretty sure we can do it ourselves. We’re not settling in for a custody battle that’s going to last two years.”

Her eyes narrow. “I’ll get around to it. It’s not like this is keeping you from living your life anymore. I talked to your Captain. Your background check has been cleared, and you can take all of your little tests now. You don’t need me anymore for anything besides filing the papers.”

“Love – ”

“What did I say about calling me that?”

“It’s a force of habit. It’s not something special, so don’t let it get you too high on your horse.”

“You absolute ass- ”

“Emma Swan?” Ariel gasps, and both he and Emma turn to the side to see Ariel walking up to them, absolutely beaming. “Emma Swan, is that you?”

She looks back at him quickly, green eyes as wide as he’s ever seen them, and suddenly the absolutely threatening look she was giving him is turned into a vibrant smile that makes small lines around her eyes appear.

Her eyes have to be another kind of green because he’s never seen any quite so captivating.

“Ariel, hi. What are you doing here?”

How the hell do the two of them know each other? Is Boston actually the smallest city in the world?

“I’m here with my husband and, well, Killian actually. I don’t mean to interrupt you, especially since I know Killian came over here to ask you out, but then I noticed it was you he was talking to and had to come and say hello.”

What the hell is going on?

“Oh,” Emma laughs, “is that what he was doing? Asking me out? I had no idea. That wasn’t very smooth, Jones. I thought you knew how to sweet-talk a woman.”

“Oi, I was not asking you out. I mean, that’s what I told Ariel and Eric but – ”

“Why would you tell them that?”

“There was a bet and – ”

“A bet?”

“Aye, but – ”

“A fucking bet, Jones? What is this? A rom com from the nineties? You can’t ask me out over a bet? And you of all people should know that I’m not exactly interested in dating you. I mean – ”

“Love, if you could let me finish a sentence, I think you’d see that this all makes a little more sense than you’re thinking it does.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, so I – ”

“Wait,” Ariel interrupts as Killian reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “do you two know each other? How do you know each other?”

“Funny, A, I could ask you the same thing.” “Ariel knows my agent, Mary Margaret” Emma explains. “Wait. Is Ariel your agent?”

“Aye, but I don’t know a Mary Margaret.”

“Oh, sure you do,” Ariel says, waving him away. “I’ve talked about her plenty. She and her husband go out with Eric and me quite often. So how do you know each other again?”

“Um,” Killian begins, scratching behind his ear.

“We did the convention shoot in Vegas at the end of July,” Emma quickly explains, shooting him a look. “He was my fake husband for the day.” “And your real husband right now,” he mumbles under his breath until Emma slaps him.

“What was that?” Ariel asks.

“Nothing, darling. So, what a small world that you all know each other. What are the odds?”

“Well, catalog model agents in Boston run a very small circle. It’s not like we’re in New York or something like that. Also, you lose your bet because you knew Emma. That doesn’t count.”

“I was never going to take Eric’s money, A.”

“I was never going to go out with him anyways. He’s not exactly my type.”

Bloody liar.

Ariel laughs at Emma before placing her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Why don’t you and your friends join us? We’re about to eat some food and then watch the fireworks. I’m sure we can get an extra seat or two for the table.”

“Oh, no,” Emma protests. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“It’s not intruding at all.”

“Did someone say food?” Ruby asks, skipping up to her and dragging the woman behind her with her. “I’m up for some food.”

Emma turns around to look at her friend, and if he could see her face, he’s sure it would scream murder right now. Holding in his chuckle is more difficult than it should be, but this is all too perfect. He’s not about to pass up on an opportunity to have a night messing with Emma.

“Come on, Swan,” Killian urges, kicking his foot at her, “get something to eat with us. I’ll buy you a beer, though I know you’re partial to champagne and tequila.”

The look she gives him definitely screams murder.

“They sell margaritas at one of these booths. Buy me one, and we’ll eat with you guys. Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.”

He learns that Ruby is also a model, but that she does more work than Emma because she wants to move onto bigger gigs, and that her girlfriend Mulan is a physical trainer who apparently regularly kicks Emma’s ass enough that Emma will go to another gym some days. This causes Mulan to go into some kind of rant about Emma needing to show up at a class and that the other gym she goes to is a waste of money, but Emma waves her away, murmuring something about finding a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and whatever the largest margarita sold is. That’s how they end up leaving Mulan and Ruby with Eric and Ariel as he and Emma go in search of her food and her drink.

“So onion rings? Not fries?”

“I mean, I like fries,” Emma explains as she walks slightly ahead of him before slowing down to fall in step with him, “and I’ll eat them. But onion rings are undeniably better.”

“Undeniably, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Can you defend that?”

“I like them more, so they’re better.”

Killian chuckles. He doesn’t have a particular fondness for either, but he’s not about to argue. “Okay, lass. Whatever you say. So, have you told any of your friends that you have been happily joined in matrimony?”

She stumbles in her walk. “I told my agent and her husband, who’s a cop, but I didn’t tell anyone else. I had a few questions for David about how to become a cop and all that you were going through. I don’t know…it seemed right to tell them because I knew they could help. You?”

“I haven’t told any of my friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I think there’s a burger truck in the second row to your left, Swan. And yeah, I don’t know, didn’t feel like it was something anyone needed to know.”

Emma doesn’t say anything, but she does turn to move toward the food truck he pointed out.

“I can help you find an attorney, you know? I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“I can handle it.”

“Swan.”

“I said I can handle it.”

“It’s been nearly a month. The longer we wait, the longer it’s going to take to get it done.”

She groans and turns around, slapping her hands against her thighs. “Look, I have a thing about lawyers and courthouses and the whole damn legal system, but I really have been busy, okay? I’ll get to it this week and make a decision on how I want to move forward.”

“Does your thing have anything to do with Detective Humbert?”

Oh boy he really is an asshole.

“You know, like I already said, that’s not really any of your business, but no, it doesn’t.” She turns and her braid flips over her shoulder. It’s a dismissal if he’s ever seen one, and any opportunity to tell her he talked to Graham is gone. It wasn’t a big deal, and he’s sure she doesn’t want to hear about her ex anyways. “I’m hungry. Let’s go get dinner. I will find someone to help me do it.”

“Okay, Swan. I trust you to do that.”

She stops again, making him nearly run into her in the crowded area, but then she’s quickly moving again and working her way to get her food. Emma Swan makes absolutely no sense to him. None.

But he cannot deny that he is incredibly intrigued by this woman.

He can’t deny that it’s the first time in a long time that something like that has happened, either.

“Jones,” she yells out, “you’re getting me the extra-large margarita.”

“It would be my pleasure, love.”

She only rolls her eyes at his endearment this time, and Killian marks that one down as a success.

Or, well, progress.

Like he said, he does love a challenge.

-/-

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