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rei-ismyname · 4 months ago

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Uncanny X-Men #10 review

Well, ten issues in and we finally hear something substantive from Nightcrawler. The Outliers are still being attacked by the Wolfpack sentinels after Ground Bear and Jubilee bailed, the Graymalkin Podcaster clown show continues, and Moonbeam and Gambit go on a date mostly off panel. It looks pretty good but it's unfocused and shallow. The Outliers are the stars and the absence of Rogue/Gambit was refreshing. There's fart jokes?

Nightcrawler thinks to himself that he doesn't want to go back to being an X-Man, except he is an X-Man, isn't he? Realistically, he's having the same doubts everyone else has had. They were left unresolved and brushed aside so I'm not going to spend much time on this. Fool me thrice.

Anyway, he's painting a roof with Chelsea, who ends up being a mutant. Great, just what this book needs more of 🙄. She's probably the wisest person here who knows the mall is a bad idea. Kurt is really enjoying this place as a 'home' that's 'healing him.' How? Doesn't matter. He's just saying words and I wonder why he's even in the book. The lady whose kid he rescued rocks up with homemade German pastries for him which is a nice moment but it's not a substitute for character development. Things happen to him, mostly.

Meanwhile, Deathdream is bleeding out at the mall and The Outliers are rallying. The adult X-Men are feeling like a bit of a distraction tbh. The kids are being developed the most, learning, growing, making choices. It's great for them, but it's an awkward situation if you want more than the barest development of The X-Men. I look back on the first arc and how much time was spent flashing back to Xavier and Sarah Gaunt. No idea what degree of editorial meddling there is, but I find it hard to believe Gail Simone would intentionally take focus off the main characters to that degree.

Jitter uses her powers to become a master combat medic for sixty seconds and takes charge. For some reason the Wolfpack just aren't attacking them right now, despite having a taste for blood and no master.

Calico has her heroic moment and aims to distract the Wolfpack. Ransom is hunting for a needle to save Deathdream and stops to cheer her on despite the ticking clock. Said clock ticks down and he's just a little bit too late, so Jitter is relying on memory. Sure. The 'if X happens, run and leave me' moment is the 5th time this beat has been played this run, and it gets the same response each time. There's value in repetition but I'm not seeing any formalism or thematic purpose here, so it just feels repetitive. Don't get me wrong, the kids are the best part of the book, but I don't get these choices. It's the kind of thing even a parody of action cliché should be embarrassed doing - and it loses power each time.

Time's up! We check in with Graymalkin, where the same dynamic as last time is escalating after the incident hits the news. Trask wouldn't kill kids because of his family history, apparently. Maybe he's referring to his sister, but that's a stretch. He had no problem with basically enslaving Juston Seyfert for his sentinel program. Whatever, maybe it's some new shit. The podcaster isn't happy, and keeps telling him to shut them down, something he's established he can't do. Not sure what was gained by including this.

Okay, Nightcrawler sees the Wolfpack situation on the news (TF are Logan and Jubilee?) He is obviously going to teleport there to meet them, but he stops for thoughts and prayers in a life or death scenario. DEEEEEP BREATH. Fucking really? Yeah, Kurt is Catholic, though he has spent the last few years having a major crisis of faith. He's also an experienced hero and pointedly not an idiot. Stopping to pray when kids you're responsible for are probably being torn to shreds is not something he would do, ever. It's embarrassing and frankly highlights why he shouldn't be in this book. Kurt Wagner is a complex, well-rounded individual. In this book he's been portrayed with 'is religious' as his defining character trait. I hate to go there but I'm dubious that Simone knows a damn thing about him - besides 'religious guy.' All that aside, if you only have room for a single flat character trait, take them out of the book. Kill him if you need to because this is painful. That would free up space for other characters to have beliefs, motivations etc.

Jitter is going off memory and Calico is regulating. The memory is fading and Ember is down though. After encouragement from Ransom Jitter does the Pulp Fiction thing anyway - Calico lapses into despair, repeating her mother's abusive nonsense.

Nevermind, Ember is fine and so is Deathdream. More than fine even. Right as rain. Ransom is reinventing the fastball special except with Ember kicking him in the heart.

Logan and Jubilee finally show up to protect the kids they're responsible for. They're held up by a barricade and a cop. Okay this must be a shape shifter or something because I don't see Logan even asking for permission, let alone wasting time arguing with this bozo. He'd leap the barrier, or slice it. Famously he does not give a fuck and is very willing to use violence. If you thought that was bad, Jubilee convinces the cop and then wastes time flirting with him. Flirting with a cop while their charges are fighting sentinels. I guess now that she's abandoned her baby in Otherworld she's got time to date. This is unserious shit.

I wish I had the gall to follow up that waste of time with 'we're not gonna make it.' This run isn't going to make it. Kurt beats them there and has his second most substantial conversation of the run. With a killer robot dog. He teleports it into the sky and kicks it without hurting himself. Maybe Calico softened them up since last issue.

Jitter and Deathdream seem fucked with two Wolfpack sentinels racing towards them. Ransom and Calico check in, while informing us that Ransom is who they look up to. I mean, she's been doing all the fighting and Ransom was going to leave last issue but sure. Why not? He does throw a robot dog at Logan for him to slice, that's leader shit. If I was being generous I'd say it's a callback to Fall of the House of X #1, where Colossus did the same thing with an ORCHIS soldier. It doesn't matter because Deathdream suddenly figures out he can kill them all. Easily. It's loosely explained and I don't care enough to quibble. His powers are established and they apparently include a healing factor too.

With that, the threat is over. They got them all, together. Right. Logan compliments Ransom who asks not to be called 'kid.' I guess he's the man now, dawg. The mutants are hailed as heroes by local news and The Podcaster is not happy. They've finally tracked down the idiot responsible for this debacle, and she sends him to be tortured. The private sector is rough. I still don't know what the Podcaster's actual deal is, she's all over the place and I can't fathom why anyone obeys or fears her. What does she want aside from a mutant prison?

This book lacks consequences. The adults keep making huge mistakes that other people suffer for yet they get bailed out. It's narrative 101 - if your characters make a mistake they should have to deal with the fallout. They learn and grow. Rogue hasn't made a good decision yet and her team are complimenting her - directly after a prison break with no plan where she spent her time punching Scott. They sent the kids to school and Calico was kidnapped in an hour. Logan and Jubilee fucked up so badly here the kids nearly died. One actually did, but luckily it didn't stick. Kurt is praying and Jubilee is flirting while they're fighting for their lives. These actions aren't being used as mistakes to learn from, they're just things that happen. There's no tension because nothing really matters. No matter what they do things work out and they're hailed as heroes. Personally, I want more out of the flagship X-Men book.

When the wisest person in the book is 6 years old, it hangs a lampshade on how cartoonishly everyone is behaving. I'm thinking that's the point. The ragtag misfits have goofy adventures that seem like the end of the world at the time, but it's just Tuesday. It's the fun book where you don't have to think hard. Moonbeam, Ground Bear, and the Podcaster. PTSD, let's never talk about it again. Diction lessons, sugah. Let's pray.

A look at the letters page tells us everyone is loving the book, and they're definitely real people that aren't cherry picked. Good for them and good for you if you're enjoying it. I'm not loving it, but I'm not hating it. It exhausts me a little but I do enjoy reviewing it. Thanks for reading, Ground Bears.

#x men #x comics #uncanny x men #logan howlett #wolverine #nightcrawler #jubilee #the outliers #calico #jitter #deathdream #ransom #rogue #gambit #marvel #comics #reviews

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metalotaku-da · 2 years ago

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So many cross overs so narrow of common hero choices. Let's expand a little.

"Rip what the hell is that?"

"It appears sir, to be a small human child. Around the developmental stage of 4-5"

"Even you know better than to cuss infront of kids.

"I was gone for five minutes."

"Actually I snapped you back to a minute after you left."

"Are You misser booser gol?"

"Yeah kid that's me. You a fan or something who got into something you shouldn't to find me?"

"No. Clockie said tis for you." Hands a sticky note to booster.

Note reads: this is Danny. You will care for him from now on. See this as payment for resetting your time line safely. If you even try pass him off to Bruce wayne/batman, I will ensure your entire familial line never touched time traversing. And you stayed forever trapped in the 31st century. -clockwork master ancient of all time. P.s. there is not conning your way out of this. I will hunt down every ancestor or decendant for all time.

"This looks very serious sir. Congratulations sir you are a father Now"

"Wow kid. Clockie must hate you. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not that bad of an option. Obviously I was judged better that batsy."

"Clockie ass hero I want to say wiff."

"OH kiddo and you asked for the greatest hero boostergold?"

"I wike space. He say geen lanern is space. He take care of me."

"I'm so sorry sir, you have already disappointed your new child. Should I take a commemorative photo of this milestone moment for you?"

"No" "yes skeets"

Camera flashes.

"I shall add this photo to a new album labeled baby book. It is labeled Danny's first disappointment, sir."

"Thank you skeets." X2 one sarcastic one pleased.

"I wan geen lanern."

"Think you're gonna need help anyway Micheal. Call one of them. Not guy."

"I would never co-parent with guy. What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Rip takes you as the utmost idiot sir. As does most of the justice league sir."

"Thanks skeets."

"You are most welcome sir."

"Can I pay wif the talking space ship?"

"Sure kid." Pushes skeets into the kids hands.

"I do not believe I am rated for physical interaction by children under 10 sir."

"To bad skeets." Picks up Danny who looks up at him instead of at skeets to smile all teeth. "Holy shit are those fangs? We are going to go see my friend Ted now. He will know what to do."

"He will atleast know not to cuss infront of kids. Don't know about the rest."

"Is ted geen lanern?"

Cue shenanigans. They were roommates, but adopted a child.

"Does Batman know you stole a child from him?" <- Jaime when he visits.

"Do not even joke like that. My existence is at stake."

"Batsy is the new beetle juice. In this house."

"Are You geen lanern?"

"Sorry kid I am blue beetle."

"Should I take a picture for Danny's third disappointment since becoming your child sir?"

"No skeets."

"3rd? How long you had him?"

"A week"

"Ouch. Hey kiddo why do you want to meet green lantern? Aren't these guys just as cool?"

"Considering the average human body temperature is 98.6 degrees I do not believe they qualify as cool sir." Jaime is picking up danny to hold on his hip.

"Clockie says geen lanern is space." Danny smiles.

"Are those fangs? Is this a meta kid? You like space? My scarab is from space. Isn't that just as... Oh My, no scarab!" Scarab starts to go into protect host mode while screaming danger desteoy threat in Jaime head just as Danny's eyes start to glow green at the statement and his mouth splits inhumanly wide with even more teeth. Ted and Michael scramble to grab Danny and move him away from Jaime till he gets control of the scarab again. But Danny has a death grip and won't let go of his new friend.

"I do believe sir that your new child qualifies as a meta. Should I take a picture to commemorate your child's first power demonstration sir?"

#dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #blue beetle #booster gold #ted kord #dc universe #danny phantom

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the-firebird69 · 10 months ago

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A lot of people are seeing it to them what you're doing is very stupid **** and we see it stupid when we're going after you for it and these guys don't get it it's dumb it's sacrilegious it's evil and they look at it as opportunity and we told them a bunch of times they're doing this because it looks really stupid and it looks mean and you'll have to pay for it they're saying it out loud and these idiots are ignoring them so now they're looking at the stone chip stuff much more seriously and BJA is gearing up and yeah he's part of the cast and crew of American pickers and we're getting some long term revenge on them they don't know it but that's what we're doing foreigners are looking into it they already have but they're very serious about it now. And that's one thing that And that's one thing that's happening right now

-- These two idiots are fighting right now to get to Santa Clara and Tommy F wants to take the car and he's fighting to get the car and he's fighting to get there and it is hard in some cases but they're fighting all over the place and they are threatened to use our son in more but really they're getting very very hot with each other saying it's my car and stuff like that and really tommy F builds things and designs them sometimes and usually trump is clapping things or having Terry Cheesman engineer it and he's getting mad because people are finding out that he's a fraud from all the fighting and he's trying to do stuff and we have alerts all over the world and alerts about Tommy F2 and he's threatening to try and take over what trump is doing and it's turned into a vicious fight over the past 30 minutes both sides losing a lot of people it's gonna get very intense and the idea of course they're fighting so hard over the car is to bring it here and use it by having our son use it and it is well over the top as an idea and would make it look like he's wealthy and people would finally figured out it's a kid car and it's on a Kia chassis and eventually they'd find out that it's his kia and they might think that he made a kick car and that they have to do it and that will kick this in the **** so hard that we will have to actually hire everybody and we said before we ended up hiring a lot it is an intense idea and Hara is happy and she's full of emotion and love for her man and can hear him saying what am I gonna do with that thing and things like that and it's trouble and it's not a work car and it makes her happier but that's what he's saying I don't know if I can even get in and out of the driveway it's not his best line she says and she's a beautiful woman already a bit of a baby but he's seen her baby looks and sometimes she looks very babyish and is used to it she's hollering and yelling don't look at her like that and she's smiling a little'cause she looks like it and he's taken by her how going on like that she will definitely come out somehow and probably will do the race and implicate this girl because what she's gonna start doing and it does get her going really a lot when he had the firebird she was trying every week she'd have a major push and she couldn't do it and she started to try and use her family and it made it worse but he says anyways they intend to have him drive around because they want to wear his money down and Tommy F wants to try and grab him with the machine and where's money down south he has to go back to the house.

-- In relation to everybody else the master plan kind of centers on him doing stuff these guys have found that everyone's focused on them and they're getting killed and they can't afford it and this would direct attention away while people were thinking it's going to direct attention towards them and it will to a certain degree and it's going to do that a little bit and then it will change and they will think that they're free and they're not really cuz they're watching each other but that's what they want we are prepared to go forwards with this idea they can't do it without us or without our approval but they do plan on wearing his money down and he's sees the idea and he sees how they plan on doing it and he needs gasoline he's not doing it without gas that costs actual money and they don't really do the sponsorship things without it and he can make extra money by doing certain activities car shows you make the most and he likes going to car shows really they give you like three to $500 per car show if they think you're like a nobody he's someone and they might give him a number like 600 or something and he go to a whole bunch and they threaten the Social Security. And Trump would try and put a camera in there all the time because it would be removed by Tommy F. Gasoline would be imperative and he says he wouldn't take a free car that he can't sell for any reason and Tommy F would say it's **** but it's not it's like offering him negative stuff and this is the car that he had when he was in Port Charlotte no it's Northport with his mom and his in her house the reason why I didn't care was his mom would help him anyways but these people won't and they don't see the difference the difference is his mom was going to help him stay sheltered regardless even if he was out for a while but she left because people kidnapped her and they're gonna try and say that a lot but you do know what he's up to and it might be at the Cracker Barrel and he thinks it's a month later when he's desperate and we think he might be right then again he might be wrong but it it'll take time to get this deal together and for people to work on it so he might try introducing things and starting car shows around here what our son says to Tommy F and Trump is that you've lost sight of things you're really crappy rebels and you don't understand survival as a group in a whole but if you do the car and it's something I'm able to do keep in mind I'm not stupid and need gas money and spending money otherwise it's a no go. But if you do the car it's for the cause. Sacrificed all sorts of time and money and stuff and if you do the car the Macs are gonna run the money through Tommy F and it'll be coded usually it affects the guy with the money the worst but he's smart enough to figure the code out and Trump used to be but he can grift or draft in this case it is a very very huge thing it's the money and he knows about it from Starbucks and was amazed he said it's like 50 things just like he says not one or two or three of ours that they're using it's ridiculous and it's gross that you have to find out which ones are real and it works down to about 40 and it's just really bad and bad code and we need to do it and also what you need to know is if I'm in the car it's gonna sell just like hot case so Tommy Efiter have a facility ready to stamp these things because fiberglass is not gonna be fast enough. And you'll find out the hard way if you don't listen. And on the sedan it's nice the smaller sedan is what most people have is a good idea

Zues Hera

it is a bigger motor and does go faster. And the way it works out is the frame and chassis and drive train are very light and the new tires and rims lighten it up two or 300 pounds those things are heavy as hell he says and the interior is lighter it's a two seater and has very little in it And the shell is very light it doesn't weigh much more than fibroglass about 100 pounds or 150 and it will go very very fast regardless and be safer and the roll cage doesn't weigh too much either by the way you're taking off about 800 pounds if you take the tear. And it is a lot different handling it it's not the same car the drivetrain and everything is not that heavy so it balances pretty good and the back end is bigger it's it's only about 100 pounds off no but it's it's not that big of a difference like people would think. Now this car is very very fast and we did build one and it's too fast for our father and it's too fast for most of you people. But if he was driving it he could drive it real fast and get away from you if he had to or a ship that was coming and we do need him to be able to. They fully intend to go through with this but he thinks it won't be for a while and it might be after the Volkswagen Golf and we think that Ronald buys it back and he buys it back because our father is just sitting there not doing anything with it no because he told him I can't afford it i'll have to sell it and he's saying things like we'll see about that you need a job this will help out and he sells it told him to **** **** probably and it's stupid because he doesn't have money for gas but that happens with Ronald Bay Rudy and AK Trump he is a big **** and he would sell it and make a lot of money it's worth thousands of dollars and he needs the money. And Tommy F we get mad so that makes sense too it makes more sense than this right away let Tommy F is getting angry and desperate. This would attract too much attention but his pupil would build tons and tons of these things so maybe it's the Volkswagen first and they start building the Volkswagen.

Savge Oppress

we think he drives it and sells it nope he says no way. inusrance is 120 mo for that old cr and jason prepped for it and we see it too

ken

and this blows force to and such. blows

trump

and no we re the ladish group and lose and die and dont care ye this blows sit her inswill think wew on and nope

dave soon bad stuff and you wont care your shit trum\

Olympus

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slytherinnbitch · 4 years ago

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Proposal Part 2

Part 1

Harry walks into the cemetery in happy spirits. He can't wait to tell his parents about his decision to marry Draco.

When he stops infront of his parents grave, he finds fresh flowers there already. That's weird...

He frowns as he vanishes them and conjures up his own flowers in their place.

"Hey Mum, hey Dad," he says as a way of greeting as he sits down beside them.

"So I'm proposing to Draco tomorrow, I think it's about time, you know? It's just...I- I miss you. Like I have everything but one. Draco's parents, they aren't bad. I think I like them somewhat. Yeah I know how that sounds, Padfoot is probably horrified right now. The Malfoys, pup? How could you!" Harry makes a poor impression of Sirius and smiles as he thinks the scene which is hopefully happening in some other world.

"Tell him I know what I'm doing. Well somewhat. Do you think he will say yes? What if...what if he doesn't want to marry me? What will I do then, Mum? Honestly, I have no idea but I hope I don't have to think about that. I shall get going now, it's late and Draco is waiting." He caresses the grave once fondly, says his goodbye and apparates away.

...

"Hey Mione, I can hear Pans in the background as well." Draco says when he answers the phone call. It had taken him some time but now he could easily use most muggle appliances.

"Dracoooo," Hermione slurs and that astonishes Draco because Hermione never drinks a lot. Just a glass of wine or maybe two mugs of lager but not so much to get drunk. Just 'happy tipsy' she had called it when he had asked years ago.

"We have a secreeeeeet," Pansy sing-songs in the background.

"What secre-" Draco starts but suddenly it's Ron on the line, "Hey mate. Don't pay them mind, I have never seen these two more drunk. Hermione wanted to call to tell you that everything is in proper order and they have told Harry that tomorrow you have a picnic under the stars, as a gift from them. We'll meet you after, yes?"

"Yes, if everything goes well. Otherwise I would be vanishing from the face of the Earth for the next decade or four." Draco jokes, not really. Ron chuckles and they hang up.

Just then, Harry comes home and they order takeout, both of them too tired to cook dinner.

Just before midnight, Draco traps Harry between his body and their bedroom wall, "Hello, love."

A shiver runs down Harry's spine and Draco grins slyly, even after a decade Harry has the same reaction. Honestly, it's good for his ego.

"Hi..." Harry breathes, as he arches his neck in a silent request. Draco places sweet kisses all over his jaw and neck, sucking new marks and biting the tender skin now and then.

Harry is panting by the time he finds his lips. His wand vibrates in his pocket at the slight reminder that it's their anniversary.

"Happy Anniversary, Scarhead." Draco says against his lips and Harry smiles.

"Happy Anniversary, Ferret."

It's tradition to call each other names when wishing the other on a special day and at this point, it's quite adorable. You didn't hear that from him.

...

"We should really thank Hermione and Pansy for this, don't you think?" Harry asks as they finally sit down on the picnic blanket. The sky is bare of any clouds and they can easily see all the stars.

"Indeed, we should. What about an exclusive vacation to some exotic place? You think they would like that?" Draco suggests. It's the least he could do after such an wonderful arrangement.

"I think so, point me your star again?"

He takes Harry's hand and points towards the sky, slowly making an imaginary line with their hands.

There's a pleasant breeze blowing and the place is absolutely perfect, it's now or never.

"Harry, love. I have something to say," Draco says tentatively. Ugh, nerves!

"Oh? I have something to ask as well. You can go first though," Harry offers and smiles charmingly at him. Salazar and Godric, hope he says yes. Because Draco doesn't know how to live with a no, not after everything.

Here goes...

"Could you please stand up, please." Draco asks, "There's something I like to show you."

Harry frowns at him for a moment but stands up and faces Draco. He really hopes Hermione and Pansy can see them and start-

The sky is filled with different fireworks and Harry looks at them in awe. Harry had always been fascinated with fireworks and nothing brings Draco more joy than making Harry smile.

The words Will You Marry Me? shines through everything at last, crystal clear- thanks to Fred and George's handiwork. He gets down on one knee and takes out the ring box and holds it open.

Harry frowns at the words in the sky for a moment, then opens his mouth to say something to Draco and freezes when he sees him on knee.

"Draco..." Harry gasps, and his eyes widen. Maybe this was a bad idea, well it's too late now anyways.

"Harry, love. Today marks our ten years and in the past decade, I have learned so many things, I learned kindness and how love feels like and how- what I'm trying to say that in the last decade you have made me a better person each day and made me fall more in love with you. I want to do that for the rest of our lives and even if I don't really deserve it, I want to make you mine forever. So tell me, Harry James Potter, will you do the honour of marrying me?" Draco finishes with a smile and a single tear rolls down Harry's cheek.

"As inspiring as that was. This just isn't fair!" Harry whines and for a moment Draco thinks Harry is going to stomp his foot.

Draco hasn't been more confused in his entire life. He gives Harry a questioning look. Is he even going to get an answer or what?

Harry takes a calming breath and goes down on his knees. "This is what I'm talking about," he says and fiddles with his jacket and produces a black box, a ring box and was he ......

He opens the box and Draco looks up at him, "Yes, you idiot. I was planning on asking you tonight but no you always have to compete me." Harry huffs and then Draco starts laughing.

He can't help it, it's funny. They are both idiots, utter idiots. Harry looks very much like he wants to join Draco in his amusement but he holds off for ami minute, looking slightly put out. Then he joins in as well.

"So that's a yes then?" Draco asks, it doesn't hurt to be sure. Harry looks at him with are-you-actually-this-daft expression, usually Harry is on the receiving end of that expression.

"I can't even look at you right now." Harry says and drags him in for a rough kiss.

"Idiotic prat." Harry says as they break apart. "No Draco, I won't marry you. I just wanted to see how it might feel to propose to you on our anniversary just for laugh, yeah?"

Draco gives him a sheepish smile and Harry shakes his head.

"Give me your hand," Draco demands and Harry smiles fondly at his tone and gives his left hand. Draco takes out ring and places it on his ring finger where it will rest forever.

"My turn," Harry says and takes his hand in his and delicately places the ring there.

They look at each other tenderly with all their love on display, then slowly come closer. As if it's their first kiss and it feels like such as well, almost shyly they kiss each other, tender with love and rough with passion.

...

As they pull apart, someone behind them mutters, "Fucking finally!" And then all their friends are there, yelling out congratulations in various degrees as they come out from wherever they were hiding.

Pansy is the first one to reach them and she engulfs Draco in a hug and murmurs something in his ear which makes Draco swat her arm. She is onto Harry when Hermione arrives, closely followed by Ron, Blaise, Luna and Ginny.

They all congratulate them as hugs and kisses are exchanged. Harry is grinning throughout the night, even as they make their way back home.

He had been surprised when he noticed that they both had chosen almost identical rings for each other, except for the size of the diamonds. He had kissed Draco very inappropriately when he had noticed, much to Ron's horror. Seriously, the dramatics never stopped when it came to Ron and Draco.

"Draco...did you...visit my parents yesterday?" Harry asks as they keep their coats.

"...yes, I did, you know to ask for their permission. How did you-" Draco doesn't get time to finish because Harry is onto him.

He can't express the amount of love that passes through him at that single sentence. Draco went to Godric's hollow to ask his parents. The gesture is so sweet that he can actually feel his heart ache. They lose themselves in one another after that, no longer waiting for words to express their feelings, but rather showing it with their actions as they make sweet tender love.

Unbeknownst to both of them, craved inside their rings, is their story.

Masters of Their Own

Tagging @cissa-bee @sorry-i-ship-drarry @cupofsquirrelfan @textrovert-01 @a-disasterperson @thebusyfangirl @moramystery because you all requested this!

Part 3

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nat-20s · 4 years ago

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Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad.

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon: No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true. Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look.

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #my fic #thank you to everyone that submitted!!!#also; i am offically out of ideas for installments #more may come later but i make no promises!

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pilothusband · 4 years ago

Text

A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 2)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: T (for now)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, pining, some vague descriptions of wanting to be plowed, vague threats of violence

Word count: 2.7k

Description: More pining ensues, we see a lil skin (@softdin 👀), something eerie happens, two idiots who don’t know how the other feels.

Author’s note: Let me know what you think!! Please go here to be added to the taglist!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The next few weeks passed by without incident. You still hadn’t seen Orso since he initially hired you on, which was kind of strange, but you figured it was because he was busy and had other ventures he had to keep an eye on.

So far your favorite part of working at Bear’s Den was working with Harlow. When it was slow you would pass the time chatting and getting to know each other better. You found out that Harlow was in the middle of getting her Master’s in Business Administration at the local school. She wanted to open her own bakery someday and worked at the pub to help pay for her degree.

Dillon was a little more frustrating to work with. In other words, he was lazy and he tried flirting with you (and every other woman around his age) every chance he got. It was harmless, but after a while you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

Paz was almost always at the bar, but it seemed like he was busy most of the time. In fact, he had barely said a word to anyone all day, other than grunting a short “hello” as he stormed in.

“What crawled up his butt?” Dillon asked after he had slammed the office door. You and Harlow looked at him and shrugged. He seemed pretty surly in general, from what you could tell, but this was a whole new level, even for him.

A little while later, some customers had trickled in and there was a low hum of conversation around the bar. You were wiping down some glasses that had come out of the dishwasher. The damn thing never dried the glasses completely, and Donny never dried them himself before carting them out to you.

Harlow came out from the back, coat and purse in hand. You instantly deflated, realizing she was heading home for the day.

“I thought you were closing up with me tonight?”

“I was going to, but Paz switched with me. Said something about a meeting he had later on anyways,” she said, applying chapstick.

Oh, just great.

“Don’t worry,” she said, almost like she could read your mind. “I’m sure he’ll be less grumpy once Madge brings him some food from the kitchen later,” she laughed.

“Yeah, he could use a Snickers or two.” You both dissolved into giggles.

It was as if Paz’s ears were ringing. As soon as you had made the comment, he stepped out of the office. He still looked pretty angry, so you figured whatever was bothering him hadn’t gotten any better. Harlow could sense his mood and all but ran out the door, throwing a quick goodbye behind her shoulder.

You waved after her, distracted for a moment. That’s when you heard your name being called, rather impatiently. You whipped back around and walked over, not wanting to sour his mood any further.

“Sorry about that, what’s up?” You asked, looking up to make eye contact.

Big mistake. You could feel your stomach clench up with desire as soon as his eyes met yours. You could have sworn you saw his expression change momentarily, but as quickly as it appeared, he blinked and it was gone.

“I have a meeting later today. If you see a couple guys wearing matching white coats walk in and I’m not out front with you, come out back and get me. Don’t talk to them.”

You bit your lip and nodded. Paz’s gaze followed the movement and he swallowed heavily. You didn’t catch yourself watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down until he cleared his throat.

“Remember. Don’t talk to them.”

“Roger,” you said, turning on your heel to get back to the bar.

You had no idea how to feel about that interaction. He either didn’t trust you enough to talk to some important business associates, or something else was going on. You felt a little uneasy, but chalked it up to Paz’s fowl mood.

Was Paz involved with some bad people? Did this have anything to do with Orso not showing up to the bar for weeks? More customers were trickling in, distracting you from all the wild conspiracies your brain was coming up with.

Orso and Paz were in a secret society and were plotting to steal an important government document. Orso and Paz secretly swapped faces and were living each other’s lives.

You really needed to stop watching Nicolas Cage films before bed every night.

After a while, Paz came out of the office to tend the bar with you. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but it was almost hypnotizing to watch him pour drinks. He knew the layout of the bar like it was the back of his hand. There was no hesitation to look for the correct liquor types when a customer ordered a cocktail that required a vintage bourbon. He didn’t struggle to remember which spout to use for cranberry juice vs. orange juice (like you did).

There was a point in the night where he was serving 5 customers at the same time, when you struggled to juggle just two of them. It was almost embarrassing, to be honest.

You heard a woman’s voice in your peripheral, snapping you out of a detailed and vivid daydream where Paz bent you over the bar to have his way with you.

“Excuse me, can I get a glass of Merlot?” She was probably in her mid-50s, wearing a slinky black dress that looked stellar on her, with leopard print heels. Basically, you wanted to be this woman when you got older.

“Of course,” you said, turning to the shelf.

Before you could even ask for Paz’s help, you heard him in your ear.

“Red wine?”

You had to suppress a pleasant shiver.

“Yes, please. The Merlot,” you looked over, giving him a sheepish grin. His face was still close to yours, you could see the flecks of amber in his deep brown eyes.

You stepped back, allowing him room to get to the shelf, and tried not to drool as he reached up towards the shelf, his shirt riding up his back with the movement. Time seemed to stop as you caught a flash of skin, toned and smooth.

“Here you go,” he said, handing the bottle over to you. “We’ll keep it over by the register in case she wants another glass.”

You nodded, your mouth too dry to come up with words. Once the bottle was opened and the glass filled up, you handed it to the woman as she handed you her credit card.

She gave you a wide-eyed look as you accepted her card.

“That man is an occupational hazard,” she said, taking a big gulp from her glass.

You laughed, but didn’t say anything in response.

“Do you want me to open a tab for you?”

“Yes, I think I’ll stick around for a while,” she said wiggling her eyebrows.

Later on that night, it was about 15 minutes past closing time and all of the customers, as well as your bouncer Rick, had long left for the night.

Paz had gone out back to count the till and you were organizing the liquor bottles when two men entered through the front door, which was strange because you could have sworn you had locked it.

They were wearing long, cream colored trench coats with some sort of emblem on the front pocket. It looked like a cog with six spokes. Something about it made your blood run cold. You had every intention of running out back to tell Paz they were here, but something about these men had you frozen in fear.

They weren’t like any men you had seen before, with short, cropped hair that was slicked back and eyes as gaunt as their thin faces.

Good evening,” the taller man said as he reached the bar. He gave you a smile, trying to appear amiable.

“Um, hi. Paz is out back, I can go get him for you,” Paz was going to lose his shit when he found out you talked to them.

“We’re looking for Orso Van, actually. Do you know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen him for weeks. I can go get Pa–”

“I don’t want to speak with his whipping boy,” he interrupted, his tone growing cold. “I want to speak to Orso. Now.”

You were grateful at Paz’s immaculate timing as the back door swung open.

Paz looked more formidable than ever. He seemed to grow even taller, if that was even possible.

“As I told you last week, Dax, no one’s seen him in weeks.”

The silent man who was not Dax scoffed.

Paz continued, “and I thought I told you never to speak to my staff.”

Dax gave Paz a sickly, unnatural smile. It didn’t look like it belonged on his face. “I figured she might know something, seeing as she showed up right as Orso disappeared.”

You felt as if your entire body had been plunged into ice cold water. A deep, dreadful feeling took over the pit of your stomach.

These men have been watching us.

“Leave her out of this, she has nothing to do with any of it.”

He stalked towards the men threateningly.

“Now, if you want to talk to me, we can go ahead and talk in the office. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my bar.”

The other man scoffed again and nodded towards Dax.

“Come on, let’s go. We’ll be back next week to check on Orso’s whereabouts. If he doesn’t show his face soon, you know what will happen.”

They turned, their pristine white coats whipping behind them. The door swung shut with a bang.

You could only gape after them, so many questions spinning through your head. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answers to any of them.

“I’m going to drive you home tonight,” his tone left no room for argument. You weren’t about to object anyways. Even if you had to endure a tense car ride, you were a hell of a lot safer with him than by yourself.

You both locked up as quickly as possible and made your way to his truck, slamming the doors shut harder than necessary.

The air was thick as a blanket, filled with so many unanswered questions. If you weren’t so rattled from earlier, you would have realized this was the closest you had ever been to Paz.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about back there?” You asked, already knowing his answer.

“No.”

“If I’m in danger, I want to know why,” you told him, voice trembling. Your pulse was going a mile a minute.

“The less you know, the safer you are,” he said. His tone was still final, but not nearly as hard as you were expecting.

He looked over at you. All you could do was stare back at him, mouth agape. His face was half bathed in the moonlight, painting his face in a pale blue light that contrasted with the dark that surrounded you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He said quietly.

You felt like your lungs couldn’t get enough air, as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

“Okay,” was all you said back. You weren’t sure if Paz even wanted to be here with you right now, but you trusted him.

He regarded you for a moment, seemingly trying to read your expression that gave way to any trepidations you had. You looked back at him, having every intention to tell him you trusted him, but the words died in your throat when you saw his expression. He looked so open, so raw.

You let yourself bask in this moment, in the dark cab of his truck. There wasn’t an opportunity before now to just look at him freely. He had a scar below his right eye, and his nose was just a little crooked. You wondered if it was from getting in fights. You wondered what, or who, he had fought for.

He was quite beautiful, in a hard, unrelenting kind of way. You wanted to find out why he had built a thick wall around himself. You wanted to trace the lines of his jaw and feel the contours of his lips.

His lips. Your eyes were laser-focused as his tongue came out to wet them. You found yourself thinking about what it would be like to taste them, to chase his tongue with yours.

He let out a shaky breath, snapping you back into the reality of the moment. You looked away, staring out the windshield, still watching his movements in the corner of your eye.

“We should go,” you wanted to flinch at the anxious edge to your voice.

Paz looked down at his lap and nodded.

“I’ll need you to navigate.”

You were grateful that Paz had stuffed a wad of cash in your hand last night before he dropped you off at your front door, mentioning to use it to Uber to work the next day. That meant you didn’t have to rush getting ready this morning to catch the bus to work, since you had left your car there.

It only took one tense night of locking your doors and windows, double checking the locks, drawing up your curtains and checking the locks again, followed by tossing and turning for hours on end only to fall asleep an hour before your alarm went off. It only took that one night for you to overthink everything.

It’s not that you were thinking about the creepy men that came in after closing. You had spent enough time to fret about that while you were trying to force your amped up body to relax last night.

This morning was spent overthinking every single interaction you ever had with Paz. He already had so much weight on his shoulders, running a business while his boss was off doing fuck knows what, while some seedy men were breathing down his back and basically stalking him at work.

Why should you add yourself to that list of responsibilities?

You had every intention to say good morning to him when you first saw him. He was walking out from the office, looking just about as exhausted as you were. You must have looked like a deer in headlights, because his eyebrows were raised in question, his head cocked to the side.

“I um, I was just going to the kitchen,” you said in an almost robotic voice.

You hightailed it out of the room before you could see the expression on his face.

Your heart was still pounding as you burst through the kitchen doors. This crush on your boss was really getting out of hand, and it only got worse after being in such close proximity last night. God, you probably looked ridiculous right now.

“What’s got you bursting in here like a bat out of hell?” You almost jumped out of your skin. Had Madge been next to you this whole time?

“I um, need coffee?” You said, accidentally wording it as a question. “If you have any extra, that is,” you added quickly.

Madge smirked, seeing right through your lie, but she didn’t question it.

“Just brewed a fresh pot. Knock yourself out.”

A little while later while you were back out front, stacking glasses between sips of coffee, you saw a plate slide into your peripheral.

“You look like you need this,” Madge winked. You looked down, mouth watering at the large pile of french fries.

“You’re a fucking saint, Madge.” You deadpanned. She cackled all the way back to the kitchen, throwing you another wink.

You didn’t see Paz much that day, and you were kind of grateful for it. Every time he entered the room you found some way to keep yourself busy to avoid his gaze.

He could probably tell you were being extra squirrely. Hell, everyone could tell.

Donny had taken you aside earlier and offered to let you take a hit of his cousin’s homegrown, to which you politely declined. Dillon remarked on how tense you looked and offered to massage your shoulders, to which you told him to fuck off.

Harlow didn’t say much, but she looked concerned. You pretended not to notice the sideways glances she was giving you.

A little while later, you were hunched over the bar, in the middle of writing out a supply order when you heard a throat clear from above you. It was a distinctly male sound. You almost dropped the pen in surprise when you looked up and saw Paz was standing before you, arm resting just a few inches from where yours was resting on the counter.

“I um,” Paz trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see how you– how things are going out here.”

He sounded unsure of himself. He was standing a little less tall today, with his shoulder slumped over. Weary to the bone.

“I’m great, so good,” you babbled. “Nothing going on with me. Feeling peachy.”

“Uh, cool, yeah. Okay, I’ve got to uh...” he removed his hand from his neck and gestured towards the office before making his exit.

You collapsed, letting your head hit the bar with a thump. God, you hoped no one saw that go down.

“So, what the fuck was that?” Harlow said, walking over.

You sighed dramatically, your entire body feeling like it was being held down by bags of sand.

You lifted your head up a little, giving Harlow the most pathetic look you could muster.

“It was nothing,” you told her. You stood back up fully and busied yourself with organizing the coasters on the bar, hoping she would let it go.

“That didn’t look like nothing,” she said, trying to hide a smug smile.

You had two choices here. Tell Harlow about the sketchy men from last night, which was not an option, or tell her about the pathetic crush you were harboring for your boss.

You turned around to make sure no one else was around. Thankfully, Dillon was on his lunch break, Paz was holed up in the office, and Donny and Madge were both in the kitchen.

“Please don’t tell anyone–” you started, but were interrupted with a squeal.

“Harlow, shhhh!” You admonished her, desperately trying to reach out to her to clap a hand over her mouth to no avail. She danced away, wiggling like a toddler at a birthday party.

“You guys are totally fucking,” she whispered, her brown eyes wide as saucers.

“I– what? No we aren’t.”

“Come on,” she scoffed. “I saw that little trainwreck of an interaction back there.”

“No, really, we aren’t,” you told her, and added with a whisper, “though, I kind of wish we were.”

“Well,” she said, chewing on her lip in thought. “Judging by the way Paz was bodysnatched back there, he’s in the same boat.”

You rolled your eyes. No, that was absolutely because of the threatening men from last night. He just felt guilty you were now in the middle of all of it.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, missy,” she admonished, good-naturedly. “He totally looked scared shitless back there. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

You frowned in thought. He must be really freaked out by those men. You felt bad that you hadn’t noticed.

“No, I think it’s just a big misunderstanding,” you told her. “I think he thought he offended me last night because I was in a bad mood.” You were kind of impressed with the lies pouring out of your mouth at the moment. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Okay then,” Harlow said, smirking at you.

You charged towards the office and barged in before you could talk yourself out of it. It was Paz’s turn to look like a deer caught in headlights.

This was the first good look you had at him all day. The scruff on his chin was longer than usual. His eyes, despite being open wide in surprise, had dark shadows under them.

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked,” you said, turning to leave.

“Wait–” Paz reached out, grabbing your shoulder. He let go almost immediately, as if the touch burned him. “Come in.”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing after last night. I didn’t ask you how you were doing and I– I’m sorry.”

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me all day? Because you feel bad for not asking me how I’m doing?”

You blanched. Yeah, you felt bad but that definitely wasn’t why you were avoiding him.

“I guess, yeah,” you said, huffing out a laugh.

“I wish I could tell you more, I really do.” Paz said, sitting on the edge of the desk. It immediately groaned in protest, so he stood back up. “I don’t want any of the staff here getting involved with Orso’s bullshit. The less you all know the better.”

You nodded in understanding. You really did understand it. But something nagged at you.

“But what about you?” You asked him. “You’ve already been dragged into it.”

The sad, fleeting look on his face was devastating. You could tell he wasn’t used to others worrying about him. He must have caught himself, because his expression hardened in resolve a moment later.

“I can take care of myself,” he said. “I’m working on getting a hold of Orso. Once he’s back they’ll leave us alone.”

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but you let it drop for the time being. You would just need to keep an eye on him in your own way.

“You should get going,” Paz said, changing the subject. “Your shift was over 10 minutes ago and I’m sure you need to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I really do,” you said, giving him a tender smile. “Make sure you get some sleep tonight too.”

“I’ll try,” he said, his smile matching the one on your face.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @maybege @recklessworry @cannedsoupsucks @pocket-pudding @simping-for-clones @gallowsjoker @idiotonastar @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @devanthus @legally-a-bastard @my-awakened-ghost

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla au #bartender!paz

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sunflowershouto · 5 years ago

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they have a crush on someone with a love quirk - bakugou, kaminari, kirishima

𝑵𝒐��𝒆: Ahhh I love this idea so much! Thank you for the request! <3 Enjoy!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Headcanon of Bakugou, Kaminari, and Kirishima reacting to having a crush on a girl whose quirk can make people fall in love with her.

𝐛 𝐚 𝐤 𝐮 𝐠 𝐨 𝐮

✧ Bakugou doesn’t know a lot about how L/N’s quirk works, just that it can make people fall in love. He figured that it’d be pretty easy to tell if you were using it, so he was never very wary of that.

✧ You’re not that close with him at first, considering that he can be pretty prickly, but when you start hanging out with Kirishima and the others, Katsuki starts to take notice of you.

�� He doesn’t find you as grating as some of the others, so when he gets dragged out on class expeditions, he doesn’t mind having to talk to you.

✧ It’s a few months of this, very very slowly getting closer to him and him not realizing how much he’s grown to care about you in his own way.

✧ Until one day you’re walking to class with him, and your hand brushes across his, and there’s a funny feeling in his chest, and he’s wondering what the hell L/N just did to him.

✧ He doesn’t bring it up right away, just looks away and gets very quiet as his suspicions are raised.

✧ He starts to avoid you, because every time you’re near him, that stupid feeling comes back and he can’t think straight.

✧ You notice, and wonder what you did wrong, but frankly you’re almost too scared to ask. You and Bakugou are pretty close by now, but he’s acting distant and you’re fairly sure that pissing him off could get you mauled.

✧ Avoiding you works okay until he starts thinking about you even when you’re not around; he’s incredibly irritated by it, but the part of him under your “spell” wants to be near you.

✧ He finally snaps when he sees Kirishima wrap his arm around your shoulders, making some stupid flirty comment. He wants to kill the bastard for it, but rather than Eijirou, you’re the one he singles out.

✧ He makes the mistake of calling you out in front of almost the entire class, absolutely going off about how you need to quit the bullshit and stop whatever you’re doing to him.

✧ You have NO CLUE what he is talking about???

✧ Until he tells you that he’s felt weird around you for weeks, and he wants “to go ten fucking seconds without thinking about your stupid face, so will you stop using your stupid love quirk! Who the hell do you think you are messing with my feelings?!”

✧ The girls start losing it, and you have a hand over your mouth, not sure if you should burst out laughing, tell him the truth, cry tears of joy, scream, or all of the above.

✧ “Bakugou. . . You said weeks? I’ve never used my quirk on you, and even if I had. . .” You’re trying to hold back laughter at this point. “It only works for like twenty minutes at a time!”

✧ Bakugou.exe has stopped working

✧ The entire class is watching at this point, and all of them are varying degrees of shocked and amused.

✧ Katsuki grabs your arm and drags you out of the room, where he demands an explanation.

✧ At this point, you figure it’s basically confirmed that he likes you back, so you just confess.

✧ It takes him a few days to come to terms with it, but once he does, the two of you start seeing each other “in secret.”

✧ It is a terribly kept secret, but you pretend no one knows for his sake.

𝐤 𝐚 𝐦 𝐢 𝐧 𝐚 𝐫 𝐢

ϟ Let’s be honest with ourselves, Denki catching feelings for someone isn’t exactly breaking news.

ϟ But this time is DifferentTM, okay?

ϟ It starts off pretty normal, and he doesn’t really suspect you of anything. He just thinks you’re really cool and sometimes wonders what holding your hand would feel like.

ϟ In fact, he doesn’t even consider your quirk could be responsible for his feelings until he sees you use it during training, and you sweet-talk Sero into surrendering a sparring match.

ϟ He’s actually a little disappointed when he thinks that it’s just you using your power. After all, it’d be pretty cruel for you to be playing with him like that.

ϟ However, he’s equally has hopeful as he is disappointed! Doesn’t it mean you like him if you’re making him have a crush on you?

ϟ But then once you stop, would he still like you back?

ϟ He spends a lot of time thinking in circles like that, and usually just gives himself a headache trying to reason out whether or not he really has feelings for you.

ϟ All of this overthinking also means that he goes sort of braindead around you. It’s not super noticeable at first, but the deeper his feelings become, the more awkward he gets.

ϟ He gets super invested in the idea that this is all just your quirk, and he doesn’t even consider that he might actually just have feelings for you.

ϟ At first, he can’t decide if he should pursue these feelings or just get you to confess to using your quirk. Eventually he decides he wants to get you to admit it so he can at least figure out your reasoning.

ϟ Denki has many skills but subtlety is not one of them.

ϟ “Sooooo. . . Y/N. Anything you wanna tell me?”

ϟ You start wondering why he’s acting so weird, but you brush it off as Kaminari being Kaminari.

ϟ Meanwhile Denki is losing his mind. He notices everything you do. Literally everything. It’s driving him crazy, and the poor boy just wants to rest.

ϟ He asks you to meet him after class, and when you do, he just comes clean and asks you to stop. He says that he doesn’t know why you’ve been using your quirk on him, but he would really like you to stop.

ϟ He feels like a complete idiot when he sees how completely confused you are, and for a second he wishes that a house would just fall out of the sky and crush him so he wouldn’t have to finish this conversation.

ϟ Luckily, you think it’s kind of cute, and are able to just laugh it off. You admit that you hadn’t really thought of him (or anyone, for that matter) in a romantic sense, but tell him you’re willing to let him take you on a date if he felt that way about you.

ϟ He plays it off like this was his master plan the whole time, and he just has amazing game.

ϟ “I knew you’d say that!”

𝐤 𝐢 𝐫 𝐢 𝐬 𝐡 𝐢 𝐦 𝐚

♢ Baby boy. You pure, pure, stupid baby boy.

♢ Kirishima knows that he likes you for real, that is never in question for him.

♢ What he DOES start to think, once he starts REALLY falling, is that you’re using your quirk on him because you’re too shy to tell him how you really feel.

♢ He is brought to tears (Manly TearsTM, of course) by this (false) realization, and makes it his mission to show you that you don’t need to use your quirk on him (which you were already not doing).

♢ He explains this noble quest to Denki, and Denki, knowing that Kirishima is completely wrong, but also knowing that L/N has a crush on him, basically goes “Yeah bro, totally. That’s totally it. You’ve cracked the code. Let me know how it goes.”

♢ Kirishima tells Bakugou all of this, but before Bakugou can burst out laughing and reveal to Kirishima that he is completely misguided, Mina and Denki clamp their hands over his mouth.

♢ To be completely fair, you do have feelings for Eijirou, which is partially why Mina and Denki are fine letting Kirishima go on his Feelings QuestTM.

♢ He’s honestly so sweet about it. Yes, he’s semi-delusional by this point, but he literally just wants to make you feel like you can tell him the truth without your power.

♢ He doesn’t avoid you at all. If anything, he starts spending more time around you, and because he thinks that you like him back, he’s not really flustered or nervous.

♢ One day, the two of you are hanging out alone, and he’s getting frustrated because his feelings are stronger than ever, and you still won’t confess to him.

♢ He grabs your hands, and asks you to just tell him the truth.

♢ You, not having any idea that he thinks your quirk is involved, think that he’s figured out about your feelings for him. In a way, he has?

♢ Both of you are on completely different pages, but you admit to having feelings for him, and he feels like a genius detective.

♢ Until he mentions that you didn’t need to use your power to make his feelings stronger, since he would have felt that way anyway.

♢ “Eijirou, I wasn’t using my quirk on you. You know I can only do that for like really short periods of time, right?”

♢ Bruh moment

♢ You very politely break it to him that any feelings he experienced were not in fact your fault.

♢ Everything goes fine, and he gets the girl, but the next time he sees Mina and Kaminari, he goes ballistic.

♢ You have a cute story to tell at parties, and an even cuter boyfriend, who now gets a little bit jealous when you actually use your quirk on other people during training.

#mha imagines #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #denki kaminari x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #eijirou kirishima imagine #denki kaminari imagine #kaminari x reader #my hero imagines #my hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #bnha imagines #bnha x reader

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matbarzyy · 5 years ago

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Impossible

A/N: If you follow me on main you might know I’ve been obsessed with Impossible by Nothing But Thieves, so I tried to use it to write a fic. It definitely deserves a listen if you wanna have that playing in the background while you read. This is a best friends to lovers fic starting off a lil angsty but it ends well.

Word count: 4358

Love it stings, and then it laughs

At every beat of my battered heart

Something was wrong.

You couldn’t tell what it was just yet, but the way Mat was texting you wasn’t normal. He wanted to talk, he tried to keep the conversation going, but the texts were empty of content. It was so unlike Mat that you didn’t realise how worried you were until you tasted blood in your mouth from the way you bit your lip.

He was a ray of sunshine and a dork, always throwing jokes around and acting like an idiot. Seeing Mat sad was a rare occurrence.

You didn’t know what put him in that state but you guessed he needed something to distract himself, so you decided to call him.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” You spoke as soon as Mat picked up the phone. There was a sigh on the other end of the line and a ruffling noise before you heard him.

“Nothing,” He replied weakly, trying to hide a sniffle by putting the phone away from his face. You picked up on it anyway.

“Mat?” Your voice softened and your heart squeezed. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” He admitted, unable to give you a better answer as he lay on his bed without moving, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You took it as a clear no. The only times Mat ever called you to cry were after hockey games he lost, and that was only if he was too far for you to be with him. Whenever he played at home you came to see him and stayed to celebrate or cheer him up depending on the outcome.

“Where are you?” There was no need to ask if he needed you, the answer was obvious, you just had to ask where you had to go.

“Home,”

“I’m coming over, hold on, okay?” You slid into your sneakers as quick as you could, too rushed to undo the laces and put them on properly.

“Okay,” He whispered so low you barely heard him.

He went quiet on the phone and you hung up after promising him you’d be there in no time. You lived close enough to him that you could walk, driving was pointless unless you had a lot to carry. Mat had made you pick this apartment on purpose when you moved to New York, he argued that he’d be close if you ever needed anything, and you had never been more glad to be there.

He was your best friend in school when times were simpler, and he somehow remained your best friend when his hockey career began. Things were different with the distance, but you were the little bit of home he could stay attached to. He had been ecstatic to find out you were joining him in New York after your degree so that you could work on a masters.

Anthony had quickly become one of your best friends too, and you all got along well with Mat’s girlfriend. Lena wasn’t as part of the group as you thought she would be when you first met her, but you didn’t mind it too much. You liked spending time with just Mat and Tito, she was nice but always calm and calculated. It didn’t fit with the spontaneous crackhead energy you shared with the boys.

You often wondered why Mat always reached out to you rather than her. You could understand when he went to Tito, he understood him when it came to hockey and guy things you couldn’t wrap your head around, but you spent endless nights questioning where you fit in the middle of that. Mat never let you feel left out, no matter how invested he was in his relationship he always made time for you.

“I’m here,” You called out when you unlocked the door. You had a spare key from the moment you arrived, officially because he needed someone to have it in case he got locked out, unofficially because he wanted you to be able to come over whenever you wanted. “Hey,” You found him in his bedroom, dried tears on his cheeks as he looked at you with heartbreak written all over his face. “What happened?”

“Lena’s been cheating on me for four months,” Mat whispered, his eyes falling shut as he dug his teeth into his lip to stop himself from crying again. He had been rehearsing the words in his head since you called so that he could tell you, but they still tore at his heart.

“Oh my god,” You sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to engulf him in a hug. That at least explained why he called you. He needed comfort, and as sweet as Tito was he was also fiercely protective, you knew he’d go rip her apart if he found out now. Mat’s chest shook with small sobs while one of his arms wrapped around you, clinging to you for dear life. “Shit Mat, I’m so sorry,”

“I was- I was just going to surprise her,” He cried against your shoulder, tears beginning to soak your shirt. “And I found them,”

“Come here,” You breathed out as you slid onto the bed more comfortably, letting Mat curl himself against you. You had held him while he cried before, but you had never seen him look that small. “You deserve so much better,”

“I just-” He hiccuped. “I can’t believe she’s been doing this for so long,”

“I know… I don’t even know what to say,”

“Four years,” His words were so choked you barely understood them. He was the most broken you had ever seen him and your heart fell apart for him. No one should have to go through that, but it angered you more than anything that someone as sweet as Mat had to be the one to suffer from it. “I trusted her,”

“I know you did,” You nodded, gently running your fingers through his hair in a way you hoped would soothe him. On some particularly quiet nights at home when you were drunk with no one but him and Tito he liked to rest his head in your lap to make you play with his hair. It wasn’t something Lena really did for him, he had told you one day, but he never let himself be that close to you when people were around in case pictures circulated and she became unbelievably jealous again.

They had a fight about it once, and you wished you realised how horrible she was back then. She played it off on insecurities when it was pure misplaced jealousy, and you could now add hypocrisy to that. Mat was a good boyfriend, reassuring her and talking to you about it to make sure you’d know not to be too touchy when she was around.

It should have clicked in your head that she didn’t belong with him at all when he was forced to hide his affection for you and any other woman in his life. Tito might have been a bit smarter than you about it, he never even tried to take a liking to her while you made efforts to get along with her for Mat’s sake.

“I don’t want to fall in love ever again.” He sniffled against your shoulder, only calming down for a second before his sobs became louder.

There was nothing you could do except hold him through the rest of the night.

Somebody told me and I think they’re right

There is a change on its way tonight

It took a few months for Mat to feel better. He kept blaming himself, trying to find where he went wrong, and it took many pep talks from you to remind him that he was worth more than that. None of it was his fault, Lena was a heartless liar using him, and she didn’t deserve all of the tears he shed over her.

Tito helped too, joining your efforts as soon as he found out. Between the both of you Mat got plenty of encouragement and love, it was at least enough for him to appear fine to everyone else around him. Only you and Tito got his late night phone calls and texts when he got in his head and began blaming himself for everything that ever went wrong in his life.

Girls were still flirting with him, some of them asking him out on dates, but he turned them all away without a care. You thought he might get into a bit of a fuckboy phase to take his mind off things, but even that didn’t happen.

Neither you or Tito pushed it, he needed patience.

“You’re in love with him,” Tito accused you one night. He was the only one still sitting at the table you had secured in the bar for the rest of the team and their significant others. There was enough space that everyone was standing and mingling around the room. You were practically filling the whole bar anyway, there weren’t many other customers.

“That obvious, uh?” You gave him a weak smile, glancing in Mat’s direction.

“You’ve only been giving him all of your time and attention for the past year,” He shrugged. “I figured it out after I saw you turn down three dates the first month you were here,”

“Nice catch, I barely had it figured out for myself then,” You admitted, taking a weight off your shoulders. You had never been able to confess your feelings for Mat to anyone before. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Tito was the one to figure it out. “I just don’t want him to know yet,”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s too scared to fall for anyone again, or I would have told him already,” You saw him down the rest of his drink and laugh loudly at something one of his friends said, and that sound alone made a smile appear on your lips.

“He trusts you though,” Tito brought you back to the conversation. He had spent enough time with you to know, and he wished the two of you could see things as clearly as he did.

“Not to let himself love me as more than just a friend,” You sighed, your heart squeezing at the thought. “I know what he’s going through, well, not to that extent, but yeah, I know the kind of trust issues that come with it,” You had spent a long time getting over an ex who only cheated with a kiss, and you had barely been with him for six months back then. You could only imagine what it did to Mat to find out his girlfriend of four years lied to his face for four months straight.

“I honestly believe he already has feelings for you, he just won’t act on them just yet,”

“Maybe… Either way, all I can do is wait until he notices,” You could still give him time. You didn’t blame him for keeping his distance, as much as it hurt you had seen the damage his last relationship had done to him and you were willing to wait. You couldn’t see yourself falling for anyone else, Mat was the only one in your heart.

“Mat might act like an idiot all the time but he pays attention to people, he knows how much you care about him,” Tito assured you. You didn’t see it, but Mat was always looking at you and turning to you for everything. You were more than just his best friend and it was painfully obvious.

Mat wasn’t doing it subconsciously either. He was all too aware of your feelings for him, and he fought with himself trying to repress his own for a long time.

You were his best friend back home, but ever since you came to New York you had become so much more than that. Even when his relationship still held up you were the person he shared everything with. You and Tito were his favorite people, he constantly hung out with you without realising what you truly meant to him. Tito was like a brother but it was different with you.

Accepting his feelings for you while getting over his ex was a lot to handle, but he eventually got there. There was only so much patience you could have, he was scared it would wear off before he grew the balls to jump in and tell you the truth.

He could see you sitting with Tito while he was out there drinking, and he couldn’t help but walk over. There was no way for him to enjoy his night unless you did too.

“Come on, you’re missing out on all the fun,” He cheerfully grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the table, motioning for Tito to join.

“Someone’s drunk,” You chuckled when he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his chest. Drunk Mat was always extra needy.

“Only a little,” He grinned down at you.

His loud laugh echoed through the room when you took the opportunity to tickle his sides, and he jumped away from you with a squeal. It was the most beautiful sound, one you had missed for a whole month when he never let himself be truly carefree.

“See! This is why I can never bring you to work related stuff!” He tried to retaliate but you blocked his hands, wriggling around until he gave up and put his arm around your waist.

“Why, because I always make sure we have a good time when we’re out?” You laughed at the memories of all the stupid things you had done together when he was supposed to act professional. Granted, trying to see which one of you could catch the most olives in their mouth while the other threw them hadn’t been your smartest idea, but that dinner had been boring and the backlash had been worth it.

“More like because he can’t focus on shit if you’re around,” Tito muttered and you bit your lip in response, wondering if that was really the case. Mat was just Mat around you, but was he different when you weren’t there?

“Something like that,” The brown haired giant remained oblivious to his best friend’s words, too drunk and excited to notice. “But now you need a drink!”

“I’m driving you home, dumbass,” You laughed and resisted his grip while he tried to drag you towards the bar.

“We can uber!” Mat’s face lit up like the idea made him a genius, and you had a hard time not turning into a puddle at the sight. He was so cute it was unfair.

“And leave my car here? I don’t think so,”

“Tito, help me,” Mat looked to his friend, puppy eyes at their finest, to convince him.

“I only had one beer, I can drive,” The man sighed, rolling his eyes at Mat’s behaviour. It was the best compromise so that you wouldn’t have to leave your car and Mat could get his way.

If he could anything that might finally get you two together he’d do it. He was sick of watching you like this when you should obviously be a couple. As stupid as it was, he hoped the alcohol would help you loosen up and get closer. Mat hadn’t been with anyone in a long time and he was obviously lonely, there was a solid chance you’d at least be cuddling by the end of the night.

“You don’t have to,” You tried to ignore the hand that tugged on your arm, making sure Tito was okay with not drinking for the rest of the night. You promised you’d drive, you didn’t want to ruin his fun.

“I don’t really want to drink more, you’re good, go,” He gave you a gentle push, and a second later you were stumbling after Mat because he often forgot how strong his grip was.

“Two shots of tequila and a rum and coke please,” He asked a little louder than he needed to, but the bartender clearly didn’t mind. The guys tipped well when they were out, and since the whole team was filling the bar you knew the whole staff was happily making more money than on regular nights.

“You really think you should be drinking tequila?” You laughed at his state, knowing he was only about to get worse. You didn’t mind it, he was always closer when drunk, clinging to you like a baby, and there was nothing you craved more than his hugs.

“Nope, that’s all for you,” He handed a bill to the bartender to pay for the drinks. “You need to catch up,”

“You’re going to be the reason I die one of these days,”

“Promise I’ll make sure you get home in one piece,” His lips pressed against your temple and you melted into him. He’d always make sure you were safe.

You didn’t know what to do with the mixed signals you got from him. Tito was right, you were almost sure he had feelings for you, but you wondered if he would ever act on them or if he would only want to keep you as a friend. You could only have your hopes up for so long.

The shots were placed down in front of you before you could let yourself overthink things more, and you took both with a grimace under Mat’s stare.

He was trying his best not to let himself ruin a potential relationship with you. He knew he loved you, but getting with you before he was ready would be a mistake. You were more than a rebound and you deserved to be treated right. Mat couldn’t be the one for you until he fixed himself, but knowing that gave him the energy to be better. He let himself slip into the depth of the love he felt for you, allowing himself to fall a little further every day until he was so in love with you he knew he could never go back.

The night ended as predicted, you and Mat were so drunk you laughed constantly and could barely walk, Tito tried his best to be patient as he helped you both to the car.

“Guys,” He groaned as you stopped once again, doubling over into a fit of laughter at something he didn’t understand. He was mostly amused but had to act serious for either of you to listen to him. “Come on, hop in,”

“Thanks Tito,” You gave him a big hug while Mat opened the car’s door.

“Yeah yeah,” He rubbed your back with a chuckle. “Get in there and hug Mat,” He guided you to the backseat where Mat already was, leaving the passenger seat empty.

“Tito said I should hug you,” You leaned over to him and rested your head on his shoulder as you did so.

He only hummed in response, wrapping his arms around you while Tito started the car. It would be a short drive to Mat’s place, and the three of you knew there’d be no need to drive to yours. Tito’s car was at Mat’s because you had picked them up there to come to the bar, so he’d be able to drive home and leave your car where you’d spend the night.

Getting up to Mat’s apartment was surprisingly easy. Your energy had died down in the car and you were both just dying to get in bed. Tito had to fight a little to get you both to drink water while you complained you were hungry, so he promised to make you food if you both just went to bed.

“Alright, everyone comfy?” Tito had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he found you settled under the covers together. Mat was shirtless and you were in one of his t-shirts, you couldn’t look more like a couple. “Here,” He let you both sit up against the headboard before handing you plates.

“You’re ‘e ‘est” Mat dug in and spoke with his mouth half full of his sandwich. You nodded after him, looking up at the blue eyed man.

“Drink some more water before you fall asleep, okay?” He chuckled as he thought that soon enough all of your nights would look like this. You might have thought that Mat needed more time but Tito could see he didn’t, he had already let himself fall for you, you just had to let it happen.

I could drown myself in someone like you

I could dive so deep I never come out

Dinner at Mat’s was common, but a homemade dinner at Mat’s wasn’t. You didn’t hide your surprise when you smelled chocolate brownies baking in the oven as you walked in on a Friday night. Mat rarely went through the trouble of making food himself when he could get it cooked by someone else who would know how to prepare it right.

He had texted you to come over early during the week, so you knew he had this planned and it wasn’t just another spontaneous night you’d spend together.

“You cooked?” You took a look at what was in the oven while he stood by the stove.

“Um, yeah,” He scratched the back of his head nervously, moving a pan off the heat while you smiled.

“It smells good,” You reassured him and earned a relieved sigh. You had teased him about his cooking skills hundreds of times, but he really had tried tonight.

You sat with him like everything was normal although the dinner and bottle of red on the table told you it wasn’t. Mat was a nervous wreck, glancing at the candles he had left unlit on a shelf because he knew it’d be too much to add them to the table.

You carried the conversation easily through the beginning of the meal, giving him some more time to say what he needed to. You could see he had something to get off his chest, but you didn’t try to push it until dessert. You could barely believe he was serving you a homemade brownie with freshly cut strawberries and your favorite brand of vanilla ice cream.

He was slowly turning quiet, obviously thinking too hard.

“What is it?” You bumped your foot into his to get his attention.

Mat finally looked up from his dessert, taking a deep breath in before letting the words flow out.

“I’ve fallen for you so damn hard,” He put his spoon down, looking at you with a slightly awkward smile. Mat was rarely shy around you, but there he was, knee bouncing under the table and running his hand through his hair too many times.

“The feeling’s mutual,” You abandoned the rest of your dessert to focus on him with a soft smile. You thought you’d feel butterflies or excitement when it finally happened, but Mat’s confession only brought warmth to you. It made you feel like everything was finally falling into place.

“I know,” He breathed out, reaching for your hand across the table. It wasn’t the first time he held it, but it was the first time he let himself get amazed by how small it was in his. “I just… I thought it was impossible, I didn’t want that again. But you’ve got more patience than anyone else I know and… and you made it all possible,”

“I knew you’d need time to come around,” You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, looking straight into his eyes. Mat felt his heart melt at the sight, it was like you had known this would happen all along while he wondered if he was meant to be single for the rest of his life.

“I didn’t think I would,” He honestly answered, knowing he could voice his insecurities around you without fear of being judged. You had been his rock this whole time, his steady while he was a mess. “And I probably wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for you. You’ve pulled me out of my head so many times, so thank you,”

“Come here,” You pushed your chair back and got up while Mat mirrored your movements.

He pulled you into a tight hug almost instantly, placing a soft kiss on top of your head while you rubbed soothing circles on his back. There wasn’t a lot you needed to say once you were there, holding each other.

“I love you,” He gave you a gentle squeeze, the words floating in the air for less than a second before you replied.

“I love you too,” You pulled away to look at him, cupping his cheek and feeling him lean into your touch. “And I know how much it takes for you to say that, so thank you, for trusting me,”

“I’ve always trusted you,”

The tip of his nose touched yours and you both smiled, letting your eyes fall shut before your lips finally met.

In all of the years you had known Mat you had never exchanged a kiss, not even during a dumb drinking game. You had only imagined this moment a million times, and now that it was finally happening you could barely think.

His lips were soft, the stubble growing on his face tickled your skin, and it all felt like perfection. Nothing could have ever prepared you for what it’d be like to kiss the person you were in love with.

“Wow,” Mat whispered as he pulled away, his hands trembling slightly.

“Yeah,” You chuckled before a frown appeared in your face. “Hey,” You got him to look at you rather than his feet. “What are you so nervous for? It’s just me,”

“Sorry, I’m, uh, all out of practice when it comes to that stuff,” He admitted, his hands coming to your waist to hold you.

“How about we clean up and get on the couch so you can get practice again, mmh?” You kissed his cheek and instantly got a smile back on his face.

“That sounds perfect.”

Please reblog guys! Feedback and comments are always super encouraging and help me write more

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famouskittychild · 4 years ago

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Cheeky Mandos - Five: Coming home

Word count: 2828

Summary: They’re coming home! They’re coming home... a visit to home and facing some important questions.

Rating: M

CW: multiple references to sexual activities, relationship talk, references to polyamory (OC's parents) and open relationships, some angst, pining

Author’s note: Lots of pick-and-choose world building here. I mostly disregard / am not familiar with Legends except for the language, I love languages ( *insert Penny loves steak* gif here) and there’s barely any canon/also am not very familiar with whatever there is so I made up what I would like mandos to be; which is a very open and egalitarian society with a focus on family that comes in many forms (and is sometimes a single person with five tookas, other times it’s your three buir’e, your five vod’e and about thirty cousins.). Din is so alone and his covert has (had? :( ) to fight so hard to survive, I gave my Armourer a big, loving family and a community that fared much better.

Series: Prolouge - One - Two - Three - Four (NSFW Din/Cobb special)

Cheeky Mandos - Five: Coming home

When you get back to your covert, you leave Djarin behind as soon as politely possible. You need your friends, you need advice, and you need company that isn’t confusing you.

You find your friends at Thlolla’s place; they have small ones so the rest gather at their quarters, scattering in the kar’yai’s couches and on pillows on the floor. You commed them before you got back. They would’ve gathered anyways for the occasion that you came home, but your message made sure that everyone showed up for at least a little chat.

They know what it is all about, of course. They know you well enough. They saw the shiny armour. It’s easier than putting two and two together.

“It’s basically like putting one and one together” Tav winks at you, and Hill’it smacks their back.

“You are so bad at math, that’s the only thing you could ever calculate” and you all laugh at that because Tav is terrible with numbers.

All the couches and floor pillows are occupied as your friends and some of their families lounge around the karyai of Thlolla’s home. You stretch out on the soft rug, resting your limbs on as many people as you can. You missed them dearly. Jama, who has your left leg draped over his knee, rubs your calf before speaking.

“So. What is your problem, mate?”

He knows you the longest. You lived at the same covert from the time you were entrusted with your own rifles, moved three times, and only separated years later after you both went through your verd'goten. His clan is the reason you still have the same accent as him when you’re tired or angry: that was the first time you were around more people than your immediate family.

You let your thoughts linger on the past because it’s safer than the present. Or the future.

“No problem. Just the usual ‘I’m an idiot, innit’ situation.” You pause, and try to swallow your regrets. “When was I good with choices?”

There’s a collective sigh and rolling of eyes, but you can’t help to feel that way and voice it. All your friends have found their places a long time ago. Some on their own like Haika; others have families, some with children like Thlolla does, or with partners of some kind. Except you. To-Ran, Tav’s foundling, crawls over to you and leans against your chest. They have been formally adopted by their current clan only recently and probably feels you are in something of a similar situation. You squeeze their shoulders reassuringly.

“Let’s be honest, hun” Jama says, “Neither of us has the burden you do. We don’t have to vanish off to space for weeks at a time, or if we have to, we can work together.”

That is the crux of the matter. Unless you get with another Armourer, your professions would pull you apart.

“I’m just thinking… maybe it’s because I was alone for quite a while now. I just latched onto the first person that came along and stayed for a bit.”

Hill’it pulls up an eyebrow before answering.

“Maybe you need a friend so you won’t feel so alone.”

There are small ones in the room hence the careful wording, but the adults understand the added meaning. They offer friendship, yes, but the definition of that word can vary. You aren’t sure how outsiders do it exactly - you have met people who have definitely had a more stricter separation between friend, person to have feelings for, and person to have sex with, than your people do. But they didn’t seemed to navigate things any better, so you stick with what you know and what worked.

But your people, at least those you know closer, tends to deal with problems head-on. You can’t fight well if your thoughts linger on problems in your private lives. You were thought early on to face your doubts and fears and anything that could be a distraction - and how that includes feelings and libido too. How people have needs for emotions, attachments and intimacy, that those varies, each their own way and degree. And that these are some of the things that can spur people to make rush decisions the most. You and your friends watched others make those mistakes and made some yourselves too.

Life thought you that if you have people around to talk to and to hug and to trust, you wont jump on a stranger you’ve barely met and feel attracted in some way just to fulfil those needs. You can wait until you get to know them, until you actually want them for themselves, and not just for the feelings or the intimacy, emotional or physical.

Hil’it is a good partner, familiar and fun, and tonight, extra caring. You wake up together sometime way before dawn, and the worry must still be on your face.

“Rivets for your thoughts?”

You sigh, and try to gather said thoughts. You remind yourself at another hard learned lesson: talking about a problem is often half the way of solving them.

“I’m just wondering… “ you start, than your words stuck in your throat.

“..what if it works out?” Hil’it smirks at you, lips pulled into a lopsided grin as they rest their head on their arm. You furrow your brows in disapproval.

“No, don’t try to derail the conversation. What if I say something, or do… and he takes it as an offence?” You stop their objections before they could open their mouth fully. “I’m serious. He was sent on this… mission. From high up. Pissing him off can have political consequences.”

“You mean that he could take your advances the wrong way and exact vengeance on your clan, or even the entire covert?” They look at you with an eyebrow raised. Put it like that, you know that’s not very plausible. “We are talking about a vod who was basically ready to enter your service and accept any of your terms, after seeing you for the first time three minutes prior when you said ‘hey I’m a wandering armourer, I visit some coverts sometimes’ - all so he can reach more of our people.”

“Yeah… he won’t turn on us just because I make him feel a bit uncomfortable.”

“Not very likely.”

You nod, glad you managed to voice your worries.

They lean their forehead to yours, and you share a breath, the tradition as old as the Creed. Hil’it than tugs on your arm, pulling you closer onto their chest. You scoot over and snuggle up beside them with your back to them, their arms around you and resting their hands on your chest. You sleep much better until dawn.

Three of your buirs live at a smaller enclave some distance from the main hub of the covert. You go over to them for breakfast after Hil’it leaves for her job early. It’s only Tis-buir who’s up, as usual, pattering about in the kitchen making long breakfast just as you expected.

He pulls you close and touches your helmets together. He didn’t need to wear his helmet in his own home, or even his armour, and definitely not at this early hour, but he got into the habit since you became a Master. His set was forged before you were born and you’re grateful that he’s still around, together with your other buirs. Every time you get home, they seem to look older and older though. You wonder whether part of your panic about relationships comes from the dread that they might not be able to give their blessings to you.

“How are you doing, ad’ika?” he asks, and the way he says it is always with so much more meaning than people usually throw that question around. When Tis-buir asks it, he means it. He wants to know if you have any fears, if something bothers you, if there’s something that made you happy but don’t talk about it because you think it’s too insignificant to talk about. You hesitate, and that’s an answer in itself that he understands. “That bad, eh?”

He chuckles and steps away, back to the steamer. He checks the rice cooking there before turning back to you.

“What is it, cyare? Pirates? More beskar thieves? Or that stowaway getting in your way while you work?”

Your helmet is on so he can’t see your face, luckily, and you’re quick to deny anything.

“No, it’s not that. It’s something more… personal.” You could just end the conversation, like you often do when you don’t want to trouble your buir’e, but you came for advice. You nudge yourself mentally. Better to spit it out - it’s nothing to be ashamed about catching feelings after all. Your buir’e told their stories enough times to know they have no problem hearing about the topic.

“Oh. So, it’s about a special person. And they are.. an aruetii?” He asks, and he keeps his helmet on still, to allow you to do the same. As much as you’d like to see his face, it’s better this way.

“No, it’s… he follows the Creed too.” You admit, and your stomach is doing a flip. It’s entirely different talking to your family about this. With your friends, they’d just say their opinion and you can take it or leave it. With your aliit, you want their approval.

Tis-buir nods slowly, weighing your words. Then he reaches for his helmet and takes it off, placing it on the shelf near the counters that is there for this purpose. He leaves his scarf on, the handwoven fabric soft around his white hair and beard. You may take off your own helmet now, and you do that, placing it on the shelf beside his. You turn your snood down from your head and fold it back around your neck. He’s smiling at you.

“Shall I put two and two together, or…?”

“Why does everyone want to do math around me all of a sudden” you mutter under your breath, turning your face away in embarrassment.

“Because your friends and us know you well enough, Buy’ce’ka” he winks at you while stirring one of the pans; he knows you met your friends last evening. Using your childhood nickname brings a smile onto your face. You took into your head to became an armourer the moment you touched your first helmet. You wore it all the time even though you didn’t needed to and told everyone who would listen that one day you’ll be making buy’ce’se, helmets, yourself. Even some of the tutors called you that instead of your real name.

You go to help with breakfast. It’s not the usual simple fare but the multi course, heart-warming, belly-filling affair for a special day. You remember with a sudden pang how Djarin is probably having ration bars on his own in a sparse guest room, or maybe some porridge if he remembers to go to the communal dining hall. You somehow hope he has company, even if he is fine with solitude. You are too, but you have all these people to recharge with. How alone is he?

You almost burn the mushrooms while getting distracted. You focus back on the food, and as the house slowly stirs awake, the members of your family show up one by one and greet you over stirring pots and chopping vegetables. When all is ready, Tis-buir calls to table and you move everything into the karyai. The heart of every home where most of life happens - eating, living, receiving guests, defense during a battle - is a spacious room, and you only half fill it.

It’s only your three buir’e who live here now, and one of your vod’e lives next door. She comes over with her riduur and their usually grumpy teen who fails to hide how happy they are to see you. You don’t even make an attempt to hide anything and after touching foreheads, you pick them up and give them a hearty squeeze.

“Ba’vodu! I’m not a child anymore to just pick me up like that” they grumble after you put them back down, and you pat the top of their head.

“You’re going to need to grow a little more, vodu’ad.” You smile at them, but they suddenly go nervous.

“Are you going to come home to my verd'goten?” they say, face solemn and showing them older than they are. You see this often: the fears of a foundling, someone who lost their roots once already. The little things that a person born into a mandalorian family would never worry about rear their head in them, and you hug them close.

“Well that’s an unnecessary question. Why wouldn’t I?!”

They make you promise to come back, and you let them make a reminder of the date and time in the form of a holo message on the comm of your vambrace. You have made their first helmet years ago and they barely can hold themselves back for a few minutes before asking about the possibility of vambraces. Their new pair, forged to include pieces passed down at both side of their family’s, are hidden in the house, finished months ago, waiting for them to prove worthy to receive them.

You wouldn’t miss the occasion for the world. You’ve been there for all your vodu’ad’s, the children of your siblings; and even some of your younger cousins and unrelated ade in your clan. As you eat with your aliit, your thoughts go back to Djarin again. He must be missing that foundling he was responsible for. Who does he have for family? He mentioned some friends who helped him through bad times lately. You hope he’s on the comm with them right now, using the covert’s better equipment to reach them after having to do with what the Brick has for weeks.

You spend the day chatting, visiting the elder of your clan and more family, and one of the old warriors of the clan too, to receive her last blessings. She might still be alive the next time you visit home; she might not. You are thankful for being able to say goodbye to her. You visit the Forge last, and help out with whatever work needs doing with the other masters, until it’s time to leave for the dock.

You almost start to make excuses to prolong your stay before steeling yourself. Twenty-four hours, a standard day, that was the schedule you agreed on with Djarin. Unless he comms you that something came up on his end, you’ll leave in the evening.

The first thing you spot in the hangar is the shiny armour. That suit looks good at every angle, at any distance. Than you feel your ears flush when a little voice says in your head how that might be partially because the person under it makes it look good. You try to shove the thought to the back of your mind.

As you draw near, you can see he’s talking with your elder Thrilla. Your heart does a double-beat as all your thoughts from before come flushing back for a moment. No. They must be talking about his mission, not you. And he’s basically clan-less, or at least elder-less. It’s good to see him seeking the guidance of an elder too.

He’s standing in that hip-twisty way you’ve seen him do, with one hand on his belt. It’s a strangely relaxed and playful stance from a person who’s usually as focused and sombre as him. Thrilla glances up at you, the black of her visor glinting in the blue and green helmet. Than she shoos you away with a barely visible battle sign, turning back to Djarin. You’re a bit surprised, but make yourself scarce. Than you spot a grey head near the cargo ramp of the Brick. It’s Kad, Thrilla’s riduur and a mechanic who had helped to rebuild your ship. You go over to greet them before getting on with the preparations to leave.

This time you two will be away for longer and will travel further away. The trail to known coverts had dried up, and from now on you will be going by uncertain informations and rumours. You have experience in that, but the fact that he used to be a bounty hunter should help. You often spend days just trying to pinpoint which spaceport, which town, which mountain or cave or farmstead is the one you are looking for. You hope his expertise will help.

Your hopes are proven right. He reduces the hunting time to hours, and you scramble to finish preparing your tools and equipment.

“Nice job, hunter” you smile at him. His helmet turns towards you and he nods.

“You’re welcome, armourer” and you hear the smile in his voice too. Than you mentally chase away the butterflies that suddenly seem to have taken over your stomach.

#din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x tall reader #post season 2 #mandalorian oc #armourer oc #cheeky mandos #my writing

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randombtsprincessa · 5 years ago

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Best of Me

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Seokjin x Reader (She/Her) (2nd POV)

Words: 6.2k

Genre: Angst/Smut, Fluff if you’re looking for it!

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: Jin has been in love with you since your childhood. As time passes and you become two different individuals, will his love be left behind in the past or will he have a chance?

Warning: Major Purple Prose (Sorry, couldn’t help it!), Talk of arranged marriages, age gap (5 years), both are idiots tbh, swimming pool make out, explicit sex scene, fingering, unprotected sex (stay safe!) Irresponsible discharges but they’re too horny to care!

A/N: This fic was voted by the lovely readers of mine for my Blogversary! I hope all the people who voted are happy with this fic! I will hold another poll for the November Nanowrimo if time and circumstances allow and all the people who voted for other fics will have their chance again! Don’t worry though, all the fic ideas are going to be posted anyhoo!

The very first time that Jin had laid eyes on you, was probably when you were seven. He was a lanky twelve year old, content with lazing about his house, passing the summers in bliss just like it was expected from children of his age.

That had been right up until his elder sister, Moonbyul, marched into the house with you in tow.

Jin had been on the couch, feet up onto the carved winged arms. If his mother had known, he would’ve been grounded till the next school year; but he was too engrossed into the small handheld video game to be too concerned about consequences.

The loud chatter of a young child had interrupted his carefully structured gaming limbo – his eyes shifted, attention straying, and then his character was evaporating into a puff of pixilated smoke.

Jin let out one of the new expletives he’d recently learned, no fears for now, because it was just his sister – he knew she knew worse words.

“Jin, you’re home?” Moonbyul asked, first thing, seeing her brother slide down the sofa.

“Yeah, it’s too hot outside.” He glanced curiously at the girl who stood right next to his sister, before a wave of recognition flooded him.

It was the girl his sister babysat, daughter of one of their father’s friend – Y/N.

“Why’d you bring her here?” He asked.

“Y/N’s parents just left, she didn’t want to stay in.” Moonbyul huffed playfully at the girl and she giggled, showing small teeth.

“Right,” he returned his eyes to the kid. She was cute.

“I’ll be out at the pool with Y/N.” His sister informed before grabbing the hand Y/N stretched out to her caretaker. They passed by and the girl gave a final wave back to Jin who grinned, exaggeratedly waving his own hand to the girl, earning another giggle.

It was usual after that, for Jin to find Y/N and his sister at the pool. Y/N must’ve taken a liking to it, because even when Moonbyul wasn’t with her, he would spot her there, sometimes just sitting at the edge, sometimes doing laps.

You and Jin grew up together; the five year difference between you and him should’ve caused for a strange form of wariness between the relationships between you two. However, there was nothing of that sort for you – even when Jin could feel himself settling into being an adolescent.

You still found it comfortable and natural to swim in their pool, long after you crossed the age of babysitting, long after Moonbyul left for college.

You had grown into a little spitfire, all rebellious, boisterous laughter following your footsteps wherever you went. Jin and you went to the same school, him being close to graduating, while you were still spreading your roots. It wasn’t very unusual for him to hear your voice around the cafeteria, or the hallway and whenever he looked around, you shone like the sun, surrounded by people who absorbed your heat and reflected it.

It made him smile, reminded of the small girl whose giggles had echoed around his house.

In these times, he found it easier to bring himself to join you; donning on swimming trunks and a t-shirt.

The first time, he had to ask shyly if you would like some company and you had grinned, telling him it was his pool before he’d jumped in.

Swimming had become a bonding experience, the both of you delving deep into conversation in the moments where you would catch a breath.

It was at this time when he found out your favorite color, food, season, subjects. Stars weren’t just gaseous balls when you talked about them, space wasn’t just a void in your mind. Politics, medicine, law; these were just base human calculations for power. What could capitalism and corruption do to you when you were just a floating mass in the galaxy?

Jin had blinked at these words, finding it hard to adjust to your world view, when his own had been molded for the working world.

You were a gust of fresh river air, when all he had smelled was sea salt…and so he fell, sitting at the tiled edge of his own swimming pool, for a girl unattainable.

But just like everything that existed under the sun, this too had to end sometime.

Years passed before Jin saw you again, in a formal setting this time.

Jin had gone on to the same college Moonbyul had, completing his Masters before he came back home. He had grown, and well, if he had to be very honest. He had traded in his contacts, glasses perched on his nose; a crisp suit clad around his frame with a hand holding a glass of fine scotch.

His father had been ecstatic to have both his children home. His sister had already started working in the company and he was soon to join.

Congratulations were flowing as freely as the alcohol.

His father stood next to him, one hand clasping and clapping his shoulder occasionally as he boasted about his son’s degrees to his business associates when his eyes brightened.

“Y/F/N, come on in! Glad you could join us,” He left the group, striding to your father, embracing him and dropping air kisses on your mother when Jin saw you.

You stood farther back from the gaggle of parents, hands held to your front.

In a split second, Jin’s mind had conjured up a series of images. You, a child, giggling at him; you, his friend, talking about how soothing the scent of wet earth was and then every picture on social media – you growing up, becoming a little less loud, but not losing your outspoken nature. Your hair was longer now, collected with a pin to one side but the graceful nature of your attire meant nothing.

Jin knew that rebellion still pumped in your blood, he’d seen the posts about various debates, the conferences. You were still in college, but you had achieved more than he could hope for.

A small tendril of pride blossomed in his chest, looking at you now. He hoped you’d come talk to him, surprising himself.

Jin had accepted early on that he had fallen in love with you in his young days. He had also accepted that maybe nothing would ever come of it, that you would find him too old. So, he had moved on, dated; however, each picture that he liked on your social media just pushed a pin into his heart.

Hope, as it was, could not be curbed – he’d found. He knew it was dangerous, being close to you again, that he would fall again, but if his feelings were this easy to rekindle, then, had they ever vanished truly in the first place?

“Seokjin,”

He started, his eyes focusing on the speaker. Somewhere between his reminiscing, you’d spotted him, and as he had hoped had come over to say hello.

“Y/N,” He smiled naturally, a heartbeat skipped when you chose to wrap your arms around him. His own arms remained polite, one hand pressing you to him while the one holding his drink stayed carefully away from your dress.

“Look at you, all suited up and in glasses; I didn’t even know you wore glasses.” You said, pulling away to peer at his face.

“Yeah, I don’t…I don’t really post too many photos.” Jin smiled.

Your eyes were glinting from the soft affection that came with old friends but he couldn’t find anything else in them that pointed out that you felt anything more at his appearance.

“I saw your pictures though. Congratulations, college has been a good experience for you it seems.”

“More like I’m a good addition for the college,” you lowered your voice mischievously.

There it was; that stern surety in your own worth. Jin smiled again. “So, can we say this is official, your homecoming?” You asked.

“I’m going to join the company, so yeah.”

“Great, I’ll come visit you. I haven’t seen Moonbyul in so long as well.”

“Of course,” Jin was about to take a swig when a call of your name distracted both of you.

“Well, I have to go, enjoy your party, Jin.” You waved to him and with one final wave walked away, leaving Jin to sip from his glass with his eyes fixed on you.

It wasn’t long after that his father announced a date most auspicious for Jin to join. He was soon to retire anyway; his company would go to his children. He needed Jin to learn the ropes as soon as possible.

Jin worked diligently. He practically took the role of his father’s secretary; sitting with him in meetings, taking his calls and handling the jobs as best as he could.

Moonbyul had already moved on to a higher office, having worked about three years more than her brother. She would come by sometimes, give advice based on her own experiences.

Not long after, Jin was capable in his own rights.

He worked in his own office, overlooking the things his father pushed on to him dutifully.

Things were busy in a successful business; there was no time for Jin to linger over thoughts of you. He wanted to, more than anything, think about what it would mean with both of you now being in the same city.

Chances were he’d run into you, but then what?

What would he say? What would he even do?

It was safer for Jin to bury himself in his work.

So imagine his surprise, when his family was the one to bring you up – at the breakfast table, no less.

“The Y/L/Ns are talking about marrying Y/N off.” His father spoke.

Jin’s head was the first to swivel, followed by his mother’s and then his sister’s, who was still a little clumsy with the butter knife.

“What?” Jin asked, shocked.

“Well, the girl is old enough now. They are going to start looking for suitable grooms.” He avoided looking at Moonbyul, who very pointedly flexed her bare left hand.

His sister was proudly single, and a brilliant businesswoman. Not even their father was going to interfere with that aspect of her life.

“She can make her own choices.” She put in.

“I’m not saying she can’t.” Their father said. “I’m just saying they’re looking and,” he exchanged a look with his wife. “I took the liberty of putting your name up for consideration.”

Moonbyul looked surprised, blinking. “Father, I used to babysit her. That’s ludicrous.”

“Not you,” her father palmed his face. “Seokjin,”

Now Jin was the one to blink – but not in surprise. “Did they take it well?”

“Why wouldn’t they? You are a successful, well to do man; upright, a gentleman. You’ve been friends with Y/N, too.”

“He meant Y/N.” Moonbyul interrupted in her brother’s stead.

“Oh,” Mr. Kim looked abashed. “No, they’re still waiting for the right time to tell her.”

Jin looked down at his plate.

It was an odd sensation that brewed in his stomach. He was elated, yes, the thought of marrying Y/N was his dream come true…but she didn’t even know. She didn’t know anything. Her ignorance sent trepidation rampaging through him, crushing the small seeds of hope and happiness yet again.

He could eat no more.

Concentration upon his work, which was piling up with every phone call that passed his intercom was the last thing on his mind.

Instead, he spent most of the working morning with his chair turned around, staring blearily out the glass panes. He knew, coming back home, running into you was bound to send his heart down a memory lane that winded and twisted with lanes of confusion and anxiety.

“Jin,”

He swiveled the chair around with a start, seeing his sister stand at his door, a sardonic smile on her face.

“I was working! I was just taking a small breather.”

“Hey, chill, I’m not on your ass about work.” She breezed in, perching on the edge of his desk. “Nobody says you have to break your back plus you’re twenty seven. Stop acting like you’re still twelve and breaking curfew.”

It was Jin’s turn to give her a wry look. “If you’re not here about work, what are you ‘getting on my ass’ about?”

“Breakfast,”

He gave her a blank look.

“To be precise; I’m here to talk about Y/N.”

Her brother sat up straighter. “You didn’t tell her did you? Is she here? What did you do?” he stopped when he saw Moonbyul twinkle at him.

“You’ve got it so bad for her.” She said, laughing at the high color on Jin’s cheeks.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Jin slumped down in his chair, eyes fixed stubbornly at the photo swirl screen saver of his desktop.

Moonbyul rolled her eyes, sliding off her perch to walk and stand at his arm. “You’ve been obvious for years Jin. Why do you think Dad even said anything about you to Y/N’s parents? We all know…at least mom and dad and I do.”

All Jin could do was widen his eyes, flames now reaching his temples as he attempted to sink further down. They all knew…they all knew…? Had he been that tactless? Oh my god, did you know? Had you ever gleaned how he watched you, like you were made of soft marble, sparkling in the sun? That when you spoke, he listened…as if he just couldn’t help it…

“I…I do like her, a lot.” He admitted, although quietly quelling the word ‘love’. He wasn’t quite there, even if it was his sister he was talking to.

“So, why don’t you tell her? You’re friends. Try and talk to her.”

“What if she says ‘LOL Jin, but you’re like my brother’?” He sat up straighter. “I’m five years older to her. That’s like so old. She’s just going to say no and maybe never want to talk to me ever again after.”

“You can’t know that without even talking to her. Plus, you’re both adults now. Stop putting ideas into your own head, you’re going to drive yourself mad. Also, Y/N’s not like that. She’s not shallow.”

“I didn’t mean,”

“I know you didn’t. However, if you want even a shadow of a chance with her, you have to get out of your shell and start talking to her.”

The rest of the morning passed heavily on Jin’s shoulder. By the time lunch break arrived, he was more than ready to get out of his spacious office that somehow seemed too small for him now. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he hurried down by the elevator, heading over for the small café that he used to frequent in his school days.

It had been a very popular hotspot for the students in his schools and even now, he could hear the laughs and jokes of his friends ringing in his ears, bringing a fond smile to his plump lips.

Walking in, he indulged in the chime of the overhead bell, the smell of roasting coffee beans and the sugar wafting over the dessert counter as he stood in line to order his usual bagel and cream and some mocha.

“Jin,” He turned with the first bite of his bagel, cream smearing his top lip and his eyes nearly boggled at the sight of you sitting in one of the booths, laughing up at him.

“Y/N,” he choked on his mouthful, coughing as he approached her. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, getting lunch; I missed this little place. I saw you and thought…maybe we could get lunch together. Of course, if you don’t mind or aren’t too busy?”

“No, no, I’m not busy and of course I don’t mind.” Of course, he wouldn’t mind sitting down here with you, getting lunch, possibly fantasizing about how he’d get lunch with you if you were dating instead of just catching up.

He looked down to see a sandwich on your plate, no bites taken out of it and you pushed the plate till it sat in the middle, letting him place the bagel on your plate as well.

“Well then, tell me everything that’s happened to you since graduation.” You smiled and Jin started talking, watching all your expressions; the giddy smiles, the concerned frowns and the soft chuckles that you hid under your breath.

He didn’t know when the topic sided towards you but when you started talking about how you’d met so many interesting people on a few of your debate teams and their clashing ideologies, Jin erupted like an untimely science project.

“Did you know your parents want you to get married?”

You stuttered to a stop, the cup of tea pausing midway as you stared at him in shock. “What…what did you say? How did you know?”

Jin looked down quickly, scratching and pulling at his ear. “My parents…they told me…they…um, they heard your parents discussing it.” He lied through his teeth.

“Oh,” You looked down, giving Jin enough time to study you. “I don’t think I’d like to get married right now. There’s so much to do; so much to be, so much to see. I want to go places, to talk to people, to be every version of me there is. I can’t do that if I get married.” You said.

“Right,” Jin said weakly.

He couldn’t tell you, he decided. He couldn’t tell you about how you were most likely betrothed to him, and he absolutely couldn’t tell you how he felt about you.

You would never look at him the same.

However, it wasn’t enough to curb the unfurling ball of guilt that throbbed in his now uneasy stomach. He stared down at the half eaten bagel. He had to talk to his father.

“Dad?” Jin poked his head in to where his father sat in his study, poring over some reports he’d dragged in that day. The older Mr. Kim looked up, peering at his son over his glasses.

“Jin, come on in, what’s the matter?”

He walked in slowly, hands wringing behind his back. Nervous tension radiated off of him and he was pulling at his ears till he thought it’d come right off.

“I want to talk to you about something serious. About Y/N,” He said finally.

His father removed his glasses, tossing them on the discarded papers as he regarded his son. “You don’t want to marry her. Its fine, son; you don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do. We can talk to her parents tomorrow.”

“No!” Jin took a quick step forward. He didn’t want that. What if her parents thought he had bad mouthed her? They would tell her and she would find out that he had kept her betrothal a secret – or worse, think he thought her inferior.

“I just…I want it to be postponed. She’s still in college and I talked to her today. She wants things out of life, dad and being married in our world is just going to put her in a wife box. She doesn’t want that. Hell, I don’t want that for her.” He sighed. “I just want her to get what she wants before she thinks of settling down. We can wait till then, can’t we?”

His father narrowed his eyes in thought, about to reply when a softer voice interrupted them. Jin’s eyes widened, head whirling to see you standing at the open door, mouth agape.

“You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me? All that talk in the café and you just -,”

“Y/N,”

You turned on your heel, storming away from the study and Jin sprang out of where he’d sunk down in one of his father’s armchairs.

“Wait, Y/N, wait, for god’s sake!” Jin managed to grip her arm at the front door, slamming it shut behind him for privacy. You immediately snatched the appendage away but turned mercifully, allowing him to talk.

“I’m sorry, ok. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He began.

“Do you know how stupid I feel? I asked my parents about what you said today and they said that they had already picked you to be my husband,” Jin flinched at the venom in your voice, “and all I thought about was that I should tell you so you wouldn’t be shocked but guess what, you already know. You knew and you let me think,” You flung out your hands, stepping back from him.

“Why? Why wouldn’t you just say something? You heard me talking about all my dreams, all the things I want from my life. I thought you were my friend. What possible motive could you have had for not telling me? And now, you don’t even want to marry me.”

“Of course I want to marry you.” Jin broke in, roughly. “I’ve been in love with you ever since we were kids, Y/N. I want to marry you yes, but I also want you to have everything you want.”

Y/N’s harsh words had faded away, leaving behind only a squeak of surprise in its stead.

“You…you what?” You stammered.

“You heard me Y/N. it’s been forever and I still feel for you the same as I did when I was a high school boy. All I want is what’s best for you. Even if,” Jin gulped, shamefaced, “even if you decide that it’s not me.”

He watched you falter, something softening behind those deep eyes he loved to watch spark with mischief. “I…” The word hung between them, suspended in nothing but years of repressed words.

Then without uttering another word, you turned and walked away from him.

It had been a week of no contact.

Y/N’s parents had called late that night, wondering if Y/N had shown up at their face and his father had skillfully relayed the events, asking for any news to be forwarded to them as well; Jin was anxious.

And it was true…

Jin hadn’t stopped replaying the last encounter with Y/N in his head, shuddering away from the poisonous look in her eyes and voice before he’d shocked the rest of her anger away.

He’d been right; she didn’t want anything to do with him. Moonbyul had been wrong.

“Seokjin,” His father knocked on his door.

“Yeah,” he sat up straighter.

“Y/N called home,” His father stood in his doorway, peeking about at the thrown about clothes and other belongings that Jin couldn’t bring himself to put back properly.

“Ok, what did she say?” Jin sighed in relief to himself.

“She went back to her college dorm, with some friends. She said she’ll be back…later, that she needed some time to think about things.”

Jin pulled in his shoulders at that, shriveling up in himself. It didn’t matter. You were safe. That was more important. So why couldn’t he just be happy?

“Son, relax; this isn’t as bad as you think. She’s safe; she hasn’t outright told her family about the fight. She just needs space.”

“Yeah, I know, but I…I don’t think she’ll come back here, to me.”

“Nonsense,”

“Dad,” His father turned to look at him. “I love her. I told her and she still left.”

His father’s face changed, turning sympathetic before giving him a bracing smile. “Like I said, she needs space; don’t lose hope, son. She’ll come back soon enough, you’ll see.”

Jin waited till his father had shut the door and walked some distance away before scoffing.

Hope…

He was really starting to hate that word.

His body felt cold now, almost freezing. The water in the pool had been freshly poured in and though night swims weren’t something Jin indulged in usually, he was making an exception.

He’d shucked off his shirt and pants, taking a quick running dive into the water to build up his guts. The ice cold water had hit him like a sucker punch and he’d gasped, floating up to the surface, holding himself in the water to build up resistance.

He turned around onto his back, letting his long frame buoy up by the water. He snorted once when he thought about how he’d been teased that water would support him more because he had a huge built.

“Having fun?”

For the second time in not too long, he startled. His body upended, face meeting the water and then he was grappling for foothold, standing up to glare at the intruder. He immediately backtracked when he saw that it wasn’t his sister, but the reason why he was dunking himself in freezing waters so late at night.

You sat, legs crossed in the gazebo near the pool, face in your palm, watching him impassively.

“Y/N!” Jin nearly shouted before realizing the time, looking about in case someone was up in the house. “You’re back, how did you get in here?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ve been coming here since I was a toddler, Jin. I know the ways to this pool better than you do.”

“Oh,” Jin remained awkward, kicking idly in the water when you stood walking around out of the roofed gazebo to stand at the pool edge.

“Aren’t you going to ask?”

“Ask what?”

“About where I went, why I went away…I don’t know, questions that I think my parents will ask when I go home.”

That had Jin’s head snapping back up to you. “You mean you didn’t go home?”

“Nope,” You shook your head. “Just arrived, came straight here,”

“I’m…flattered.” Jin managed weakly, thrilling when the tips of your lips twitched up in an amused smile.

“Can I join?”

Jin glanced around at the large pool. “Sure, why not?”

He backed up a little to create more space for you but what he wasn’t prepared for was you grabbing the hem of your sun dress, lifting it up completely off your head, revealing a simple black sports bra and boy shorts combo.

Jin averted his eyes, feeling heat rise up in his neck, along with something that made him grateful for the cold water. You draped the dress over the back of a deck chair, jumping in right next to him.

Jin exhaled, at least the water and the mild night lights of the pool hid most of your bare skin from his view.

“Race you?”

“You’re on.”

Jin and you drew back to one end of the pool before taking laps to the other end, to and fro.

Finally when you both urged at one end, Y/N’s palm slapping the top of the tiles in triumph, Jin pushed his hair back with both hands, panting. He wasn’t that far from Y/N, but the way she gave him a sheepish grin was enough for him to agree to his defeat.

“Guess it wasn’t a fair competition; you’re getting old.” You dunked your head into the pool before emerging again, launching up to sit at the edge. Jin smiled wryly, drifting closer to float near you, unspeaking for a while as you both caught your breaths.

“Do you know why I don’t want to get married?” You asked suddenly.

Jin glanced back at you, kicking in the water, not meeting his eyes. There was a glum set to your mouth. He decided not to reply, letting you answer yourself.

“It’s because as sweet as the institution sounds in itself, it’s also…binding, constricting. I’ve seen your mom and mine and they are happy, they love our dads but well…they don’t have anything to say for themselves. You know who does; Moonbyul, she’s happy single and she’s one of the most leading names in business. I don’t want to be trapped like that, at least not right now. It was never about you. It was about what I wanted for myself.”

Jin lowered his head. “Y/N, we’re not getting married. You don’t have to worry.”

He caught Y/N turn her head towards him quickly before looking away. “I…wow, thank you.”

“And even if we were,” Jin turned around to look earnestly up at you. “It would change nothing. I would never hold you back from what you want, ever. You know that. I would want you to go on out, talk some more, change the world, and I would gladly be in the audience watching you do that.”

Your lips twitched now, the shy smile that was ever so rare for you spreading across your face. You slowed your feet until the water stopped splashing up around Jin’s waist. There was still a gloomy air to you but now there was a resolute gleam in your eye, one he was very familiar with.

You looked at him. “You weren’t the only one, you know?”

“Hmm,” Jin frowned.

“With feelings,” You said bluntly. “You weren’t the only one.”

It took a few moments for your words to sink into Jin, sending his eyebrows flying up and jaw to fall slack. “You…” He took a deep breath, shivering just a little in the cold. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He managed weakly.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Of course I didn’t say anything.” Jin was getting frustrated. He was cold and now he was learning that the girl he’d been pining after for years felt something too but was still returning fire at him as if they were still in their teens, arguing about everything and anything under the sun.

“I was older than you. You were so popular at school with all these people hanging about you all the time. The only time we had together was when you would come in here or outside. After I graduated, there was nothing I could do or say. I didn’t want to put anything on you that you could do without.”

“So, age is basically the only thing you were worried about.”

Jin raised his head in outrage but you chuckled. “Because I thought the same; I was so young and you were so much more matured. There was no way you’d look at me like anything but the child your sister used to babysit.”

“But I never let it stop me,” You continued. “I mean, I knew you wanted me to succeed, I know that, so I took every chance I could get. I put myself out there, I posted pictures so you could see and be proud of me. Every like you left on all the photos was basically what was encouraging me.”

“So,” Jin felt as if he was boiling the water around him. The urge to reach up and pull you down to him was maddening, especially when you were saying everything that he had been dying to hear.

“I know you’re the best for me. You’re the reason I want to be the best of me. So, what I’m saying is that; yeah, I will marry you, Kim Seokjin. Just…not yet; give me at least till graduation.”

He did reach up then, curling cold hands around your face to pull you down till his face. It was easier, he was taller than you and the water - ironically – buoyed him up.

Your words disappeared in his mouth, a gust of hot breath sending goose bumps rising at the back of his neck. Jin dropped back down to his feet, with you leaning over him, your arms slowly sliding along his shoulder blades before winding around his neck.

You giggled against his lips when he pulled back. “Took you long enough,”

“Took you longer,” Jin argued.

“No, if you consider your age,”

“Shut up, Y/N,” Jin tugged you closer again, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Mm, you’re so bossy.”

“Now you know what I’ve been through all those years.”

“You’re right. Let’s just shut up.”

Jin gladly cut the banter short, your lips colliding against his harder this time. He opened his mouth, breathing in the scent of you, tasting you when you slid him your tongue.

You stayed there by the edge of the pool, your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him close as you released all the pent up frustration, accumulated for years.

When Jin pulled away from you, your eyes fluttered open, heavy lidded and chest heaving from the exertion. Your forehead dropped on his, clear about what you wanted. Jin twisted his mouth.

“Y/N,”

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom on me right now.” Jin admitted. He’d come for a swim. There had been no reason for him to be packing.

You hummed, brushing light kisses over his temple, down to his jaw. “Can you pull out?”

Cock twitching, Jin groaned, reaching down with one hand to rub along the pulsing length. You caught the action, grinning at him so willingly that he had to laugh at well.

“Ok,”

You untangled from him, springing up so he could clamber up behind you, following you when you flopped down on the futon in the gazebo.

“Wait, here?” Jin asked, standing over you.

“Where else; you want to wait till we get inside?” You reached up for his hand, pulling him in till he was hovering over you, one hand bracing his weight over your head and the other landing square on the crotch of your underwear.

The fabric was cool but he could feel the slick friction of your pussy, his fingers running over the cloth, rubbing against the nub till you were arching your back, hands gripping onto his wrist. Hair fell into Jin’s eyes, drying into chlorinated clumps and he had to shake his head to see you clearly, meeting your eye with a lascivious smile.

You parted your legs further, reaching back for the tie on your sports bra, pulling at the knots till the constricting material fell away, baring your chest to him, nipples peaking and jolting with each broken breath you drew.

Jin descended, swollen lips catching onto one peak and giving it a hard suck, pushing the crotch aside to sink in once long, crooked finger in your heat. Your moan had him grunting, pushing in further till the digit nestled in you up till the knuckle.

“Fuck,” You both gasped out at the same time, the feeling of your walls trapping the fingers, quivering at the intrusion, sending Jin’s cock nearly bursting the seams of his trunks. You tilted your head further to him, meeting his lips in a messy kiss as Jin gently began to thrust his finger, in and out, twisting as your slick coated your nether lips enough for him to squeeze in two.

He scissors his fingers, thumb circling your clit as you keened, soft mewls falling from your lips.

Your arms wrapped over his shoulders, your lips at his ear, hot breath wafting against his skin, “Want you inside of me, now.” You ordered and Jin complied all too happily.

Removing his fingers, he gripped at the hem of his short, tugging them off. The material clung to his skin, sticky from the pool water and now sweaty but he finally managed to kick it off, slipping the boy shorts down your legs till it hung from your ankle.

Running his slicked fist over his length he led himself to your entrance, eyes blown out as he slowly pushed into your hot, tight core. His head fell back, jaw falling to let out a loud groan that had you pushing your lips against his to muffle.

Your own whines and gasps were lost against his shoulder as he bent over you, nesting your head in the crook of his arm. His free hand grabbed hold of your leg, hitching it till it rested at the curve of his waist.

The first hard thrust had you both releasing expletives.

“You’re so big.” You almost accused as Jin parted from you to stare at the sight of his cock disappearing into your folds…again…and again…and again.

“You’re just too tight.” He gritted his teeth, the sight more erotic than he had prepared for and he gave you a helpless look. “I’m not going to last long.”

You shook your head, hands reaching up over your head for something hold. “Don’t worry; me neither.”

Jin twined your hands together, fingers grasping at each other as he quickened his pace, the angle at which he hit, allowing your clit to brush his pelvis in time with his thrusts.

Your orgasm hit you moments before his, making you curl up around him like a vice as he pulled out hurriedly, roughly jerking his hand to his cock but you sat up as well, wrapping your own softer hands around his shaft, twisting it at the base and tightening at the head.

Jin came in a gush, his release splashing over your hands, and some even hitting your exposed chest.

“Oh fuck,” Jin cursed, voice higher in embarrassment as he sought his shirt first, scrubbing out cum as best as he could from your skin.

“Oh god, relax.” You laughed, taking the shirt so you could wipe at your hands. Jin reached for his pants, sliding them on before fetching your dress, helping you slip it on. He surreptitiously snuck your shorts into his own pocket, hoping you wouldn’t notice.

“You’re staying the night, right?” He asked.

You shot him a teasing smile, arms winding around his neck so you could pull yourself onto your tiptoes. “Sure why not; I don’t suppose I can get in trouble for staying over at my fiancé’s house. Plus, I love morning sex.”

The last part was whispered in his ear, making him groan as he grabbed his discarded shirt, your hand patting his behind to get him to walk towards the house.

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rein-ette · 4 years ago

Note

I'd be interested to hear some of your headcanons on engport. PS: I love your blog, you really have made it very cute and elegant.

Thank you!!! I'm glad you like it :3 I wasn't sure what hcs you were looking for, so I just did a random collection of ones I haven't seen around. If you wanted more of a narrative of their relationship or something, lemme know.

1. I mentioned this hc here, but I really like the idea of Portugal bringing Arthur gifts from all over the world, not in the way someone does to deliberately woo a lover (although as they got older there was a certain undertone of that that they laughed about), but more like the way a cat brings back dead birds and stuff; it’s just cuz they love you and wanna feed you and take care of you and share their precious things with you. Port started doing this when they first met, and originally it was just bringing him a pretty stone or a little wildflower. The one thing Arthur truly yearned for, however, were books. I think Arthur is someone who truly loves learning and intellectual pursuits, but because of his upbringing and work he was never able to go university until the late 1600s.The best ones during the Middle Ages, in any case, were located around the Mediterranean, especially in Italy, as well in the Abbasid Caliphate. So when port started sailing further, he would try to bring Arthur copies of texts such as the Continens Liber, the Canon of Medicine, the Trotula (all medical texts) as well as texts on foreign flora and books like The Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices by Islamic scholar Ismail al-Jazari, which featured machine automation! In the 13th century!!! These manuscripts were probably harder to find than most jewels or trinkets and Port had to translate the ones in Arabic for Arthur — and secretly, because the inquisition was like, kinda a thing during this time — but it was worth his delight and absolute adoration. These are all, by the way, real books that existed or eventually made their way to and had a great influence on Europe!

2. I don't know why, but I love the idea of Port having a masters degree in English Literature from Oxford. I think his personality is just suitable: thinks unnecesarily deeply about things, sees symbolism in everything, loves playing devil's advocate. He must have gotten it recently as well, since eng lit wasn't a thing in unis until the mid 1800s and Port and Arthur's relationship didn't normalize until after 1974. Anyways yeah, I think Port did it in part because he genuinely likes english literature, and in part because it was a semi-valid way of getting off work and he could spend a year with Arthur. Plus a hot Portuguese man with an Oxford eng lit degree is like, catnip for Arthur.

3. Also a fruk hc, but: England owns a little house on a hill, overlooking the ocean in Calais, France. He’s had it since he owned the entire port of Calais back in the day and it’s kinda of safe house, a place where he can escape and read books and fiddle with his potions and magic and flowers and just be happy. Only a few people know it exist/have been there, and only Francis has ever been inside, when he spent 2 years recovering there during the latter half of WWII (this is stolen directly from newamsterdam's For the Dust to Still Series, which I am forever obsessed with). Despite it being a “special place” for Arthur and Francis, the front gardens are filled with lavender, which Arthur only started planting and tending to in the 20th century. When they lived there together, during the war, Arthur would sometimes just sit silently amidst the flowers. Francis never commented on it.

4. For a more modern hc, when they go on holiday Arthur and Port like to go surfing (mostly Port), freediving, and sometimes scuba diving — and pls don’t hit me with the “Arthur can’t swim”, mans a Type A personality and control freak, and you’re telling me he’s gonna spend his life on the open sea without knowing how to swim? Nah. And no one can tell me that Port doesn’t want see the fishies on the coral reef any chance he gets either. That’s his habitat. When they don’t have time to go abroad they have aquarium dates like the sappy little losers they are. Port has a membership at the Oceanário de Lisboa, because of course he does. They've also gone wreck diving at least twice -- it unsettles them both a little, because they can easily imagine themselves going down with the ship, as well as the men who must have died too -- but that also seems like the kind of emotional masochism those two idiots would be into.

5. Not a relationship hc, but neither of them are afraid of animals. Arthur dislikes big ass spiders, but isn't petrified. Port has no fear at all. At times this has caused a genuine issues.

#engport #hws england #hws portugal #why do my hcs lowkey need historical notes wtf #hws france #my hcs #ask #mr-nauseam

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

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Sugar and Coffee [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 5.5 OR Chapter 6

➜ Words: 4.2k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Life won’t give you a break. The moment midterms are complete, you have to begin preparing for finals. While the urge to bury yourself underneath your covers and pull the blanket over your head has lessened, you still don’t want to venture out into the world. But there’s no way to resist the inevitable. You can’t let your schooling go down the drain — it’s the only thing you’ve got going for yourself after all. 5:49 pm. Jungkook: where u at bitch? 5:50 pm. Y/N: im on the toilet asshole 5:50 pm. Y/N: call me a bitch again and ill kill you 5:50 pm. Jungkook: Gross tmi 5:52 pm. Jungkook: can i ask you for a favour tho pls You wash your hands after wiping, flushing and pulling up your pants. 5:54pm. Jungkook: dont leave me on read 5:55 pm. Y/N: clingy much 5:55 pm. Y/N: the hell do you want from me 5:55 pm. Jungkook: lovely as usual 5:56 pm. Jungkook: I need the notes for comm 209 You scoff as you re-read the message. He has some audacity asking for your notes for a class he skipped on a Friday afternoon, probably to hang out with his friends instead. But before you tell him to gladly ‘fuck off’, you’re stopped by an idea. He needs something from you and there’s something you need from him. Now’s the perfect opportunity. “Tempering chocolate?” “Yeah. You want to be a Master Chocolatier, right? This is a great opportunity to teach someone how to do it. They say you know your stuff when you can teach others.” Jungkook rolls his eyes at your shamelessness and how you’re trying to milk him to your advantage. “Somehow I think this far outweighs the favour of me getting your notes.” “Do you want to help me or not?” “Do I want to?” He looks unsure but gives in to your will anyways, or at least he's curious enough to hear your troubles. “What’s your issue with tempering chocolate?” “It just doesn’t temper right. There’s no snap or shine to it.” “Do you measure the temperature with a kitchen thermometer?” “Well obviously, Jeon. Noooo,” you pull out the syllable, voice dripping of sarcasm. “I dip my hand in to tell. Duh! Are you an idiot? What do you think?!” At once, Jungkook’s expression washes over, becoming impassive. He spins around on his heel to walk out the door, but you grab onto his sleeve desperately. “I’m kidding. It’s a joke. Sorry. Help me?” He shifts around to look at you. You’re busy batting your lashes with those eyes of yours, trying to appeal to him — it disgusts Jungkook instead. It makes him feel sick to his stomach that you’re trying to act cute when you’re obviously a brat in disguise. Yet somehow he finds himself in the kitchen on a late Tuesday night anyhow, despite having class early in the morning the next day. “What method do you use?” Jungkook asks with crossed arms as you pull out the right materials, silver bowls, chocolate, thermometers, and a cooking pot. “Which is easier?” “They’re all the same,” he deadpans. Jungkook’s arrogance irritates you but you’re not about to insult him and have him running out of the kitchen, so you restrain yourself and start with the seeding method. You chop the solid chocolate you have into smaller pieces while he watches you in boredom. After a minute, Jungkook pulls out his phone and scrolls through his social media so he can mentally stimulate himself and not have his brain cells dying on themselves. “Only three quarters of it goes into the bowl to be melted,” he says without looking up. If he did, it would occur to him that you’ve already got it prepared and on top of the double boiler too. “I know.” “Do you want me to help or not?” “When I ask for it.” Jungkook’s eyes flicker up. “Well didn’t you ask for my help?” “Not now, Jeon.” You sigh. It was quite profound how quickly the bastard could get under your skin for doing so little. “God, you can be so fucking—” He suddenly puts his hand up to silence you and he sniffs with that big fucking nose of his. “Why do I smell burning?” Jungkook looks over to your pot on the stove and notices it steaming oddly. You follow his line of sight and take your bowl off, hissing at how hot it is. “Careful,” he scolds and looks over. Jungkook nearly facepalms himself into a coma. “Oh my god, you forgot to add water into the double boiler?!” “It’s because you were distracting me!” you shout at him and run over to the sink to add it in. The water begins burning as it hits the hot double boiler, sizzling and smoking even more. Jungkook groans. “You’re supposed to help me, not look at your phone! Maybe I would’ve realized if you actually paid any attention!” “Fine, fine.” You add an inch of water to the double boiler. It’s an improvement. But then as it begins to steam properly with the candy thermometer in the chocolate as you agitate it with a spatula, you look down and your blood runs cold. “Oh shit.” “What?” Jungkook sighs. Frankly, it’s impressive you’ve made it this far into the program. He didn’t know you were such an idiot in the kitchen — you might as well burn the whole place down and he wouldn’t be surprised. “How’d you manage that?” You rush to grab a paper towel, trying to dab the water that got into the bowl. But Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Don’t bother. You have to start again. If you get water into the chocolate, it makes it seize and becomes unstable.” “How do you know that?!” “Do you even read your textbook?” He is appalled and you pull out the cutting board to chop chocolate all over again, starting from the beginning. Jungkook sighs, spinning around his stool as you repeat the steps and put the chocolate over the heat. “You know what the temperature needs to be, right?” “A hundred fifteen. I’m not an idiot.” “I don’t know about that,” he chimes. “You forgot to add water to a double boiler.” Your arm drops to the side, putting the spatula down. “Okay, fuck you. I haven’t seen you actually give me good advice or anything. I asked for your help, not for you to berate me.” “What advice do you need?” His brow cocks upwards. “It’s pretty self-explanatory. Just follow the procedure and you’ve got yourself tempered chocolate!” “I can’t believe I thought you could ever teach me!” you hiss at him. “You’re a condescending asshole.” “Excuse me? Guess who’s with you on a Tuesday night?! I’m an angel for helping you!” “No one asked you to!” you scream back at the top of your lungs. Jungkook scoffs. Any other time where he wasn’t being attacked, he’d recognize that you were returning to your former self, but he still doesn’t appreciate your brattiness. “Are you kidding m— God! What’s burning now?!” Him and that giant nose of his inhales and a delayed moment later, it hits you too. The both of you whirl around to where the chocolate is burning. “You forgot to stir!” “It’s not like you reminded me to! You’re a distraction!” It’s excruciating. Jungkook has a feeling he’s going to be here all night, so he helps you speed up the process. While you clean up the mess, he chops more chocolate. And this time, you both manage to get it in the bowl, stirring, without anything burning whatsoever. The chocolate goes to a hundred fifteen degrees before you remove it from the heat and add the rest of the chocolate you reserved on the side. The temperature is brought down to eighty six degrees and then you put it back on the boiler to melt it all at ninety degrees. A strip test is done, a streak of chocolate made on parchment. And for a whole two minutes, you wait for it to set. But it doesn’t. “What the hell…?” Jungkook is genuinely perplexed and finally, he gets what you’ve been talking about. “See? It just doesn’t work!” He shakes his head, refusing to admit defeat. “It must’ve increased in heat before we added the other chocolate in. Let’s try again.” The pair of you chop chocolate across from each other, silent in your determination. But when you glance up, you see Jungkook’s brows furrowed, thoughts probably lost. You don’t see him serious often — well you do, but you never paid much attention to him before. Not like now. The process is repeated. The chocolate is melted to a hundred fifteen degrees and then decreased down to eighty six as you add in the loose chocolate, and then it’s brought back up again…. But then the temperature begins climbing — faster than you and Jungkook can react. “Fuck, fuck.” The two of you help each other take the bowl off the pot in urgency and then press your burning fingers to your ears before running it under cold water. “It went to a hundred? Do you think it’ll be okay?” “I don’t know. We have to test it.” The strip test is done, but the chocolate never sets. It stays wet. Dull. “Mother fuc—” “We’ll try again,” Jungkook reassures you with a hand on your shoulder. It’s painful having to re-doing everything and going way later into the night than you initially intended. You feel like you’re being driven crazy, but you’re glad Jungkook’s here with you — you know you’re not going insane alone. You look back at your textbook and your notes, making sure you’re doing it right and you hope for the best in the next batch. “It set….but it’s so streaky.” You look up at Jungkook who’s an inch away. He hums and leans down to get a closer look. “It’s bloom. The lipids moved through the cracks of the chocolate.” “You think it’s because the kitchen’s too hot?” “Yeah, we should try to put it in the fridge to cool.” One last attempt is made. It takes twenty more minutes and then it’s put in the fridge. But after the chocolate sets, there’s no shine or snap. Jungkook finds slumped on the floor, spooning chocolate, one of the failed attempts, into your mouth. You’re hugging the silver bowl in your lap like it’s your anchor. “I give up.” It feels like you’ve gone through a thousand batches. The kitchen is an absolute mess — spatulas and tasting spoons littered on the counter, double bowlers and bowls, wasted chocolate everywhere. There’s a sink-full to wash and that alone makes you want to cry. You slurp up more chocolate in an attempt to feel better. “Fuck chocolate.” But why does it have to taste so delicious? “I don’t understand why it’s so hard,” Jungkook admits with a frown. It just doesn’t seem to work with you. “It’s not rocket science. It was fine when I did it.” “Fuck you. You’re not supposed to boast. You’re supposed to help me.” “Was the last two and a half hours not helping you?” he questions. “You just have to watch your temperatures and keep practicing.” “That’s helpful.” “Hey, I’m trying.” Jungkook pisses you off. Everything comes so easy for him. As chocolate destroys you, he’s out here wanting to be a chocolatier. But maybe it suits him — chocolate’s an asshole and so is he. “I’d like to see you try to caramelize sugar as well as I can, or better yet, pipe flowers.” The boy scoffs, looking down at you and your patheticness. You don’t even realize you have chocolate all over your mouth. “That’s easy.” “I worked at a cupcake shop for three summers.” You stand up on your feet, facing him head on. “You think you can beat me in piping flowers?” “I think I can do better than you can temper chocolate.” Jungkook smirks arrogantly, enough to push you off the edge. “Let’s bet on it then!” “Fine. How much?” You have a better idea than money. “Loser has to cover for the winner during the internship in May. Whenever the winner goes on break or makes a mistake.” He scoffs. It’s a big wager but it sounds delightful when he knows you’re going down. “Deal.” // It’s a busy Thursday, but that doesn’t stop any of you. Even after a long day of classes, sitting in lecture halls listening to theory to working in the kitchens, you find yourselves a spare kitchen space afterwards to finally put this all to rest. You won’t tell Jungkook that you practiced all of yesterday by yourself and actually got it to work once — you nearly started to cry out of happiness when the chocolate tempered. “You want me to make this?” Jungkook looks at the picture on your phone. “Yep. I made it last summer using buttercream. They’re peonies. Why? Think it’s too hard?” He scoffs. “As if. Watch, I’ll make it better than you did.” “Uh-huh. Keep talking, Jeon.” Jungkook eagerly takes on your challenge. While you take up half the kitchen, he manages the other half, and the two of you share the center island together. You get your double boiler ready, chopping up chocolate to melt while Jungkook mixes butter, vanilla, confectioner's sugar, and milk together. The fucker doesn’t even use a hand mixer. He simply uses a spoon to make it, blatantly showing off as his veins in his forearm pop. He smirks when he notices you staring and you roll your eyes. Jungkook makes a variety of colours, pastel pinks and baby blues, and puts them into the piping bag as you stir the chocolate over the heat. You focus on the numbers on your thermometer, but out of the corner of your eye, you watch him. He cuts squares of parchment, puts one on a flower stand, adds a small cone of thick buttercream to the paper, and then picks his tip. You muse that he must’ve been doing his studying when he chooses a one twenty seven tip. It’s a straight teardrop shape, and he squeezes while turning the nail wide ends towards the center, narrow end outwards. But he sighs after a moment, hands halting. It’s your turn to smirk. “Not so easy, is it?” His eyes flicker up to glare at you. “Keep a watch on that chocolate before you burn it again, brat.” You scoff, continuing to stir. You keep your heat low so the temperature climbs slowly. In the meanwhile, Jungkook switches his tip out for a one twenty and tries again. You take a glance, and it’s not too bad — still sloppier than yours and he knows it too. After a moment of frustration, he switches to a one twenty two. “You should check the consistency of that buttercream,” you sing-song. “Can’t be too stiff or soft.” “I’m fully aware.” “Are you?” You smile at him, mockingly so. “Just making sure.” Jeon Jungkook doesn’t appreciate you provoking him, but realizes it’s similar to how he treated you. It’s not his fault his forte isn’t in teaching. And yours clearly isn’t either. “A one twenty five?” You scoff. “Are you trying to make a rose or a peony?” Jungkook’s smile is stiff. “What do you suggest I use then?” “Go back to the one twenty seven tip or pick a curved teardrop shape. Also, you’re squeezing too hard too fast, muscle pig.” “I know something else I squeeze too hard too fast,” he mutters as he follows your instructions. “Go fuck yourself, Jeon.” “Didn’t need to spell it out, sweetheart, but that’s exactly what I do every night.” He smirks and you roll your eyes again. “God, you’re going to make me throw up all over my chocolate.” You take it off the heat once it reaches a hundred fifteen degrees, putting the rest of your chocolate in and mixing. You have a good feeling about this batch. Even if it’s your first try of the day too. Usually you’d rush, get too impatient, but it’s entertaining to see Jungkook struggle. Time goes by faster. You mix in your chocolate, bringing the temperature back up again, and you do a strip test when it’s all nicely melted, putting it in the fridge. All there’s left to do is wait a few minutes now. You come back, dusting your hands off, feeling confident. Meanwhile, Jungkook is still piping flowers with his thick brows furrowed, the tip of his tongue peeking out as he concentrates. “It’s taking you a while there, Jeon.” “Whatever.” He sighs, resting his hands on the counter as he rolls his neck. “You had a full three hours practicing with me on Tuesday. This is the first time in a while that I’m piping, alright? Give me a break.” “Uh-huh. All I hear are your excuses. Less talk, more work.” You grab some parchment and an icing bag he’s left abandoned in a cup. With a flower needle, you begin piping yourself to pass the time. It’s actually one of your favourite things to do — it’s therapeutic. You can listen to the sound of your own breathing and the crinkling of the piping bag while you make literal flowers from your hands. You break out of your focus to find Jungkook watching you intently. Your arm extends, showing off your flower with pride. “Pretty, right?” The icing flower has perfect ruffles and petals. It looks real, and by the expression he has, he’s already aware. Jungkook grumbles incoherently and returns back to work, making you giggle. You take another piece of parchment, but this time you steal a spatula-full of his blue icing and put it in the pink bag to make two-tone flowers. And you pipe them on, spinning the flower nail, as it comes to you with ease. You listen to the crinkling of the icing bag, your heartbeat in your own ears, the white noise of the quiet kitchen, and Jungkook’s breathing. You’re not sure what compels you, perhaps a sudden urge, but you quietly blurt— “I never stole your millie cake recipe.” “What?” His eyes flicker up and Jungkook finds you concentrating on piping, not paying him any mind. “The September incident,” you murmur out of the corner of your mouth. “I never stole your mirror glazed blueberry whatever millie cake recipe like you think I did.” Maybe you’re telling him because things are different now. You know he won’t jump down your throat and accuse you otherwise, for lying, or trying to cover yourself. Won’t denounce you. Bark out in laughter. Your relationship with Jungkook has become strange recently — you think it’s something other people would call a friendship. But you thought he should know. Just in case he still hates you for it. You know you don’t hate him so much anymore. “You threatened to go up to the Dean and expel me, remember?” Your pupils flicker up for a moment. Jungkook recalls it clearly — the confrontation in the kitchen, the fight that broke out, how you slapped him, how he was planning to do everything possible to get you expelled. How you were ostracized over the rumours for weeks until people forgot and moved on as they naturally did. But you and Jungkook never did. You always both remembered. “I went to Mrs. Ahn before she left on maternity leave. I was stuck — didn’t know what to add to my portfolio, so I asked her. And she gave me your recipe as a reference. Told me to give it a try. Gain inspiration from it.” You put your hands down, connecting your eyes with his. Jungkook is rendered speechless. “And that was when I saw you…?” “Yep. You busted into the kitchen without letting me explain and accused me of stealing your shit when I didn’t even know it belonged to you. I didn’t know you were the one who came up with it.” “Why…” He shakes his head, frowning deep enough that it hurts. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “You didn’t deserve it. The truth. I knew I was right and I was so….so mad that you could accuse me of stealing, that I could even be capable of such a thing. I wanted you to bring it up to the Dean. I wanted you to do it so you could be embarrassed when you realized what actually happened.” It’s all in the past now. Your anger doesn’t surge as much anymore, but you can still recall a time when you felt utterly enraged he could think so lowly of you — a time when Jungkook didn’t deserve your explanation, so you slapped him. In hindsight, it was probably a bad decision on your part. You escalated the situation when it didn’t need to and it spiraled out of control. You’re at fault for being rash and impulsive as much as he is. “It wasn’t like I was going to use it anyway,” you mutter with a sigh and pick up a new square of parchment to continue piping. “For inspiration or whatnot, much less add to my own portfolio. I swapped the blueberries for blackberries, and it turned out to be disgusting. I messed up on the glaze part too.” You muse, “Chocolate’s never been nice to me.” Jungkook absolutely baffled. Bewildered. All of this hatred against each other was caused by a misunderstanding. All of it which could’ve been avoided. “I—” “Wow, are you kids practicing your techniques?” Miss. Kang is at the door, visibly impressed as she regards you both. “And here I was on my way home. You two are so diligent! And look at you both working together like this! I always knew you put your differences aside and be friends.” “You have great timing, Miss. Kang.” You smile at her. “Jungkook and I were just having a friendly contest. Would you like to be our judge?” “Sure. I think I can spare a moment or two.” She steps in, looking around. “What are we doing here? Looks like someone was tempering chocolate and you’re….piping! Goodness, me. Did you make those, Y/N? They’re very lovely.” “Thank you.” You grin, beaming from the praise of your piping skills. “But the contest was me tempering chocolate against Jungkook piping.” You move over to the fridge, taking out the metal tray with your strip test. You hand it to her, and she hums. “Very shiny, and it slides right off the parchment!” she exclaims. For the final examination, the young female teacher bends the chocolate and it audibly snaps. You could burst out into cries of happiness. “Looks tempered to me.” You look over at Jungkook, head quirked to the side, wearing a big smile that’s infectious enough to make him grin too. “Here’s my piping.” He places the parchment on the counter and she leans over to study it, humming. “Not too bad, Jungkook. A little messy around the edges, but I’d say a job well done. If this was an actual exam, I’d give you full marks.” Jungkook cocks a brow towards you, sly smirk on his face. You step forward. “So which is better?” “Well, it’s very difficult to judge on tempering chocolate and piping since they’re two completely different things. I’d say it was equal.” “If you had to pick one?” you ask, desperate for a winner to be proclaimed. Miss Kang hums a long note. You and Jungkook are put in suspense, anticipating her final decision. She taps her chin, deciding to chew on your chocolate as she studies the flower. Finally, the teacher nods. “I can’t complain about the chocolate — it’s a hundred percent tempered. But I can say the piping needs a little more work, so…” “I win!” You give Jungkook a cheeky grin causing him to scoff lightly. “It was a stroke of luck.” “Keep telling yourself that, Jeon.” “It’s a tie,” he insists, “She said only if she had to pick.” “That’s true.” Miss. Kang backs him up before you can retort. But you still pout. “Sore loser. I win and you know it.” “Hmmm.” Jungkook playfully shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Let’s just call it even, Y/N.” “Nuh-uh. That’s not how it works!” The pair of you argue back and forth — yet there’s no real malice. It’s simply banter and it causes Miss. Kang to laugh. She bids her farewell and quips that you both better get the kitchen clean. In the end, Jungkook compromises. He still insists it’s a tie but he does the hard work of cleaning the dishes and you give into his will. As you prepare the mop water, he scrubs the bowls. “I’m sorry,” Jungkook pipes up after a second of quiet contemplation. He turns his head to look at you. “For the misunderstanding.” “You don’t have to be sorry.” You divert your vision elsewhere. “Not anymore. You’ve given me more reasons to be thankful. So we’ll call this even.” Jeon Jungkook smiles softly. “Deal.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook baking AU #jungkook baking!AU #btsboulangerie #Y'ALL THE FLUFF AND UWU IS SO MUCH I CAN BARELY TAKE IT

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 4 years ago

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Make ME

Title: Make Me Creator: Purple_ducky00 Rating: Teen Warnings: none applicable Relationship: Sam/bucky Square Filled: O3 – Undercover Mission for @samwilsonbingo Summary: Sam and Bucky get under each other’s skin, and neither of them can stand the other. How long til these idiots learn that it’s not hate, but love between them? Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754915

Prompted from this post by @rambeaus

“Who died and made you king?” Bucky grumbles.

Sam throws up his hands in annoyance. “For fuck’s sake Barnes! You know this is the best way to do this!”

“No, I don’t! This way has many flaws. The slightest movement could set off a chain reaction of…” Bucky’s tirade is cut off by Natasha walking between them with sterile gloves and picking up the mouse trap, sticking the remains of the mouse and the trap in a plastic bag. She rolls her eyes at them and walks out of the kitchen.

“Do you see what you just did there? This could have all been taken care of if you just listened to me!” Sam growls.

Smirking Bucky turns away. “Bite me.”

Sam’s temper flares as he watches Bucky walk away. What is it about the soldier that makes Sam’s blood boil? Every interaction they have ends in an argument… And for some reason, Rhodes had put them on the same team! When a few deep breaths don’t calm him down, Sam heads to the gym. Might as well let out some aggression on something he can’t hurt.

++++++++ “What were you thinking putting those two on the same team?” Tony laughs as he lays down in his husband’s lap. “The UST is off the charts. They are going to finally snap and either kill or fuck each other.”

Rhodey shakes his head. “I know. And that’s why I put them on the same team. I’m sick and tired of them skirting around the issue. No use delaying the inevitable. They both have too much of a sense of duty to not complete the mission, and I’m going to assign a mission leader to go with them to keep them on track. Now, who should that sucker be?”

“I would tell you Steve because I love trolling him, but he would only stop them from doing either. Give the job to Sharon. She deserves it after the whole blow-dryer incident.”

“Tony, that was five years ago.”

The retired superhero sits up to glare at Rhodey. “I’m still not over it.”

“Ok, ok. I’ll send Sharon. She’s close with them anyways. Hopefully, she knocks some sense into them.” Rhodey concedes.

+++++++++++++++++

Sam and Bucky are seated across the table from each other in the conference room, listening to Sharon’s plan. “So, we’re going undercover as actors in the Bachelorette. We have intel that the host of the show is somehow funneling contraband drugs and black-market arms for HYDRA. Bucky, Tony made you a flesh-like sleeve for your arm, and we are all going to be using holomasks to cover our identity. Do you both have your characters memorized?”

“Yes. I am Tucker Acktenbee. Raised by my mother and her sisters, I know how to appeal to the feminine side. Growing up in Massachusetts, I love seafood and cranberry jam and pies. Before I applied here, I graduated from LSU with a bachelor’s degree in English. I am twenty-six, and my birthday is October 19.” Bucky says as he pulls the holomask over his face. He looks like a completely different person.

Sam rolls his eyes and does the same. “Hey, baby. My name is Joshua Perkins. Born and raised in New Orleans, I also share an affinity for seafood, but my insides can handle the spice. No one’s going to want a bland piece of white bread like Tucker when this bombshell is available. With a master’s degree in psychology, I’m here to help with whatever emotional needs a woman has. I’ll be twenty-seven on April 15th.”

“Good. Good.” Sharon nods. “Just so you remember, I am going to be in the camera crew so my ears will be open for any rumors. Pack your stuff. We have to be on set in 24 hours to rehearse.”

“I don’t know about you, Barnes, but I’m going to win that Bachelorette’s heart.” Sam nudges Bucky with his shoulder.

“Better a fake relationship than none for you, I guess.”

This man makes him so angry! “Fuck you.”

“Nah, better leave that for Miss Bachelorette.” Bucky sends him a syrupy grin and walks out of the room before Sam can reply.

“Arrrgh!” He groans, and Sharon looks at him strangely. “Sorry, Shar. He just gets under my skin so easily. I just want to strangle him sometimes!”

“Yeah… strangle him…” She nods slowly.

“What are you implying?”

Raising her hands in surrender, Sharon backs up. “Hey, I’m not kink shaming. You do you, my friend. Just don’t tell me about it.” She picks up her clipboard and tablet. “Wheels up in nine hours.”

Kink shame? What the fuck? Needless to say, Sam is very confused. There is nothing kinky about his and Bucky’s relationship. They clash at every turn. If he slammed the door when he stormed out of the room, he’ll never admit it.

++++++++++++

“Hello and welcome to The Bachelorette! I am your host, Chris Harrison. Join me as we find this year’s Bachelorette a husband. At age 28, Penelope Darnea previously worked in insurance but is looking to branch out to another occupation. She loves baseball and the beach and is always down for a margarita. Now, let’s take you to our woman of the hour as she greets the contestants!”

Bucky is one of the first contestants to the mansion. Penelope Darnea is a beautiful woman with societal “perfect” features. As he walks up the stairs to the mansion, she greets him. “Hello, welcome to the mansion! Tucker Acktenbee?”

“Yes, it is.“ Bucky leans down to kiss her hand. “Can I tell you just how ravishing you look? The man you choose will be incredibly lucky indeed.”

Blushing, Penelope waves him on. “I can tell that you’re a charmer.” Bucky is escorted to a room in the mansion as Ms. Darnea greets the next contestant. He uses the time he has to think about the mission. Somehow, they have to act as contestants for the Bachelorette and figure out how they are funneling the money without the network realizing. And he has to do it with Sam.

His therapist once asked him “What does Sam do that gets on your nerves?”

“The better question is what does he do that doesn’t get on my nerves?” Bucky had replied. They always have the stupidest of arguments about the most meaningless things. Both of them hate to lose. His head perks up when he hears someone in the hall. “Here is your room, Mr. Perkins. If you need anything, please ring the bell.” The host goes through everything as he did in Bucky’s room.

“Thank you, sir. Much appreciated.” Oh fuck. That’s Sam’s voice. Bucky understands why they would put Sam beside him in case a quick update to the mission is needed, but to hear that voice at all times of the day? He can only take so much torture. Thankfully, a host comes to get him for an “exclusive” interview. Bucky stays true to his character but does not miss Sharon manning the camera.

After the interview, he is told that he can fraternize with the other contestants, but he cannot use someone else’s set time with the Bachelorette for his own. That is an instant disqualification. Bucky confirms his understanding and returns to his room. Changing into a new outfit, he decides to take a walk through the house. He’ll let Sam come to him first.

++++++++++++++++++

A week goes by, and the second rose ceremony is coming up. Both Sam and Bucky make sure to spend time with Ms. Darnea, but also meet up in Bucky or Sam’s room every night to see if they’ve seen anything suspicious.

Bucky has kept a close eye on the host but so far nothing looks fishy. Sam has been scanning other cast and crew members and has come up with nothing. They are quickly running out of options, but there are still a good portion of contestants left.

“Why don’t we check the host’s quarters? He has to have something there.” Bucky suggests. That was the dumbest fucking thing Sam has ever heard in his life. “Dude. There are cameras everywhere. If we get caught, our cover is blown. We have to just wait for some kind of shipment to get here. The set can’t have had enough food stocked for a month.”

“But what if we can’t wait that long? What if he’s getting stuff out another way? Then HYDRA has supplies, and they’ll hurt more people. We can’t let them do that.”

Sam scoffs. “What do you think they have? Air ducts under the mansion?”

“Go fuck yourself.” Bucky gives him the finger.

“Make me.”

Bucky’s eyes darken in anger. “I just might….” He cannot finish his sentence before there’re is a knock on the door.

“Mr. Perkins, your date is set up.” Someone calls through the door.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Sam smirks and straightens his collar, “I have a woman to seduce Tah tah! Have fun!” And then he sashays out, enjoying the look of pure anger on “Tucker’s” face.

He walks down the hallway with the camera crew following him to the porch outside where Penelope is waiting. “Well Joshua, what date do you have planned for us tonight?”

“Well, my lady, you say you like excitement, correct? I have bought us tickets for skydiving. Does that sound enjoyable to you? Once done, we will grab dinner at that new Italian restaurant, Sal’s, I think? They serve the best tiramisu.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” Penelope purrs, rubbing his arm with her hand.

Crooking his elbow, Sam offers his arm. “Shall we go?”

It is long after midnight when the couple returns from the restaurant. Sam looks up and sees the curtains are halfway open in Bucky’s room. That means he has some news. “I dd not realize they like you stay the entire night.” Penelope marvels. “Wow, Joshua, you are so cultured.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. “Sam waves it off. “Just something I’ve picked up in my travels. Have a good night Beautiful. I hope to see you again tomorrow. Water aerobics class?”

“Why yes. I do love water aerobics.” The bachelorette pokes his shoulder with hard, bony fingers. It hurts! Taking his leave of the lovely Bachelorette, he goes back to his room until the cameras leave. Then he walks over to Bucky’s, who updates him on the next shipment coming in. They will be ready then.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It is the day after the latest Rose Ceremony. There are only five contestants left. We have gathered these remaining contenders to give another “exclusive” interview. “So how are you feeling about the contest?” The host asks each participant in their interviews. Here are the responses.

“I’m feeling pretty good about it. Ellie and I have had many a good date together. I do think she will choose me in the end.” Carlton Hayweather comments.

Nathan Abbey snorts. “Well, there are five of us left, so she can only pick one, right? And the amount of time Perkins and Acktenbee spend in each other’s rooms, we really don’t have to worry about them. So basically, there’s three of us.”

“I’m feeling confidant,” Joshua Perkins leans back in his chair. “I believe I have made her laugh the most, and I do believe humor and friendship are major keys in a relationship.”

Terrance Filippo tilts his head. “Eh, if I win, I win. If I don’t, I don’t.”

But it’s Tucker Acktenbee who wins the hearts of most watchers. “Penelope is a very strong woman. I trust that she knows who is best for her. I do hope it is me, of course, but should she choose another, we must all concede fair and square. We have to stop assuming we know what women want or need. She is capable of knowing it herself, and I wish her the best.”

Are you excited for the next round? I am!

++++++++++

“Tucker, Joshua? The producers of the show would like to meet with you.” An event manager pulls them from the pool area.

When they arrive in the office, the head producer, Carole Teller, claps her hands. “Great acting out there! Have you seen this interview?” She shoves a tablet in front of their faces. Nathan Abbey’s face is centered on the screen.

“Oh, he thinks we’re gay?” Bucky asks.

“Yes, and if you are, we don’t discriminate, although I wonder why you’re here if you are. But it doesn’t matter. The question is, would you be able to pretend at least for the screen? I don’t mean a full make-out session, but maybe the camera catches a glimpse of you two in the corner. Ratings will go up, and there will be added drama.”

Bucky is about to object when Sam shrugs. “Sure. We can do that. Is that all you need?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming in. Good work out there!” She chirps and then turns her full attention onto something else.

“I guess we’re dismissed.” Sam shrugs. “Come back to my room. We have to strategize.”

Once they get back to Sam’s room, Bucky pushes Sam up against the wall. “What the fuck did you agree to that for?” He hisses. “First of all, that means the show is queerbaiting and I don’t like that! Second of all, how is this going to help us?”

“We can hide in little alleyways and closets. Who knows what clues we could find there? Do you hate me that much that we can’t play nice and kissy for a week or so?”

“I can kiss you. I am a great actor, thank you very much.” Bucky leaves go of Sam.

“Then do it. Kiss me.” Sam challenges. “Make me.” Bucky thinks the conversation would be ended there, but Sam grabs him by the face and plants a deep kiss on this lip. Caught off guard, Bucky is not ready for that, but quickly kisses Sam back.

“Wow. That wasn’t so bad after all.” Sam says, wiping his face with his sleeve.

Bucky scratches the back of his head. “Not… too… bad, I guess.”

Now that one kiss has been made, many more are to come. Bucky and Sam take advantage of their “hidden relationship” to sneak into closets and hallways. They find that the next shipment will be coming in early the next morning.

Bucky is taken away to get ready for his date. The dinner and show are quite enjoyable, and Penelope asks him back to her room. Bucky agrees. Once inside the door with the cameras off, she pushes him to a machine and flips the switch. The electricity runs through him and holds him to the machine. Tsk what am I going to do with you?” Penelope asks. “You shouldn’t have come, Asset.”

“You can’t…. control me. The words don’t…. work anymore.” Bucky forces out through his pain.

“True that might be, but I can break you. My mother broke you the first time. Don’t think I don’t have her notes.” She smiles wickedly. “Too bad you had to snoop in places you just didn’t belong. Now I’m going to take you and all my goods< and I’m taking you back to base where we can finish our experiments. How does that sound?”

“Like we got it all on tape!” Sam bursts through the door. “Hands up Lady. We’ve got you.” He rips off his holomask, showing his face.

“Drop the gun, or I electrocute him.” Penelope warns.

Sam puts the gun on the floor and slides it halfway over to the villainess. As she bends down to get it, Bucky summons his strength to break free of the current and kicks her. Immediately, Sam tackles Penelope to the ground and wrestles the switch from her, accidentally setting it on high. Bucky convulses and screams. In panic mode, Sam clicks off the current and frees Bucky, who falls to the ground, unmoving. Quickly chaining the Bachelorette to the machine, Sam works on reviving Bucky. “Bucky! No! You can’t die. I just realized that I love you, and if you don’t wake up and get up, so help me I will kill you myself.”

Bucky’s lips move minutely, and he whispers something. Sam leans down to heard Faintly, Bucky whispers with a grin, “Make me.”.

#sambucky #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #idiots in love #samwilsonbingo

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eturni · 4 years ago

Text

I posted 3,740 times in 2021

71 posts created (2%)

3669 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 51.7 posts.

I added 2,118 tags in 2021

#tma - 1264 posts

#good omens - 221 posts

#tma spoilers - 137 posts

#critical role - 112 posts

#rqg - 99 posts

#that'll be our gerard - 69 posts

#esc - 65 posts

#tloz stuff - 60 posts

#hades - 50 posts

#fic - 41 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#this man internalised that his bullying happened because he was at the heart of it difficult to love and an annoyance to everyone around him

My Top Posts in 2021

Day 3 for JonTim week, attempting to get in a bit of all three but mainly prank.

April Fool's Day, like Halloween, is a long-standing pseudo-holiday for the Institute, with London turning out to provide joke statements. Some of the research staff also get in on the spirit of it. To varying degrees of success.

15 notes • Posted 2021-03-17 18:57:44 GMT

Someone better at this than me has to have already said it but honestly the fight with Martin and the argument with Melani are absolutely the same problem in two viewpoints.

Like, yes, absolutely, Jon is a fucking idiot for thinking he could change something or make it fairer but I absolutely Do Not think its because he thinks he's Special or has the right.

I think its because he's lost all sense of what his own critical thinking is (and yeah, that hasn't always been the highest anyway whilst being strung along by the manifestation of paranoia)

But my POINT is that Jon has spent so long relying on knowledge from the eye: to keep them safe, to lead them, to not die of starvation, for pretty much every piece of information he's had since the eyepocalypse started. And now he's trying to come up with a solution with ONLY the information the eye wants to give him. Unsurprisingly, what he comes back with is less than balanced because he's not using information he's gathered, he's using what the eye put in there knowing that he'd come to this point eventually.

And Ms Annabelle Cane goes "The inside of my skull has been replaced with the Eldritch equivalent of marshmallow fluff and you're still doing worse at this" so she whisks Martin off into the nono box so the watcher's Special Little Boy has to take 2 minutes out of his day to use the brain cell rather than horror google and that man still requires a stick to the shin to get him there.

I love and fear this in equal measure.

23 notes • Posted 2021-02-11 22:59:23 GMT

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Georgie Barker/Melanie King Martin Blackwood & Annabelle Cane Martin Blackwood & Melanie King Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Martin Blackwood & Melanie King & Tim Stoker & Danny Stoker

Characters: Martin Blackwood Melanie King Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Georgie Barker

Additional Tags: The Magnus Archives ensemble cast Honestly there are Too Many characters and relationships to tag separately in good conscience Fluff Getting Together First Kiss snarky Martin Blackwood Trans Martin Blackwood Transphobia Racism toned down for story reasons but it's 19th C England Eye Trauma Recovery Kidnapping Body snatching Martin Blackwood's Mother's A+ Parenting canon typical circus explosions Canon Asexual Character Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies No beta we kayak like Tim

Martin dropped back, feeling as though he'd been struck. “That's not fair.”

“Is it truly not?” Master Sims’ eyes narrowed, looking at him once again with that feeling of being stripped bare and judged with uncaring intensity. “The only reason I can conceive of that you would expect me to treat my own husband that way is due to the way she treats you.”

Husband it echoed in his head. He could never have imagined a man using that word for him in a way that caused such a heavy weight of sickness in his stomach. “I expect that sort of treatment from a man who would propose to me by calling his feelings abhorrent and myself beneath him. You may rest reassured, Master Sims, that you have discharged your duty in putting your unwilling feelings into such a theatrical declaration and that you may take with you my sincerest apologies that I gave you any indication that I would be at all happy for the affections of a man whose feelings for me were such a singularly unpleasant sensation for him.”

28 notes • Posted 2021-04-04 14:05:03 GMT

Rules: answer the questions and tag nine people you want to get to know better/catch up with.

Tagged by @writevale <3<3

Three ships: JonMarTim, Ineffable Husbands and Zoscar

Last Song: Brimful of Asha by Cornershop

Last Movie: Stardust

Currently Watching: Nothing much. I recently binge listened to the entirety of rusty quill gaming but not actually watching much

Currently Reading: Rereading Graceling by Kristin Cashore

Currently Craving: Hugs. I’m fairly certain hugs counts

Tagging @martinbelovedblackwood @mag154 @stackthedeck @bluejayblueskies @voiceless-terror

41 notes • Posted 2021-05-13 18:56:03 GMT

So, we’re all just piling on the pain first before we leap into Jon’s coffee shop AU fantasies with abandon, right?

The world is static and pain and terror and Jon cannot lose control, will not lose control because he has lost so much to take his place here. Will lose so much more in mere minutes when the others discover what he has done. But Jon is determined to be the line in the sand. This far you have come, and no further. No more passing the suffering on. No more onlookers caught up in terrors they do not understand. No more childish bullies ripped into darkened doors to save someone who should have disappeared long ago.

No more strangers’ stories burning at his throat and in his conscience to maintain his life and the eye.

He has just enough control and maintains it with a trembling in his entire being because he knows what he must do. So used to the feeling of Knowing he pushes it to the side even as he passively drinks in the whole of the broken world; twisted up by it but not consumed. Not yet.

Martin’s rage, when he arrives, is pure and incandescent. It burns with a familiar shame, and every accusation he levels at Jon tear open exactly the wounds they need to. It is not nearly enough to blind Jon to the Sight of the terror that lies beneath it. Martin is so very scared. For him. Of him. Of what this means.

Jon is a monster, is the eye of the pupil, and yet all of the unspeakable horror in the world beyond filters into the back of his mind to leave room for the creeping, dawning terror that grips Martin the moment that he sees Elias and realises all that has happened. His small control of what he Sees grants him only enough freedom to be all but consumed by the terror-grief that he has caused to one of the only good things in his life.

The feedback static of his own fear as he realises what Martin has also already done gluts the eye to a near euphoria; its own pupil locked up with momentary terror.

Jon could not bear to be the one who passed his monstrous position onto even one more person. Could not bear to doom worlds purely because they weren’t his. In the end he doesn’t have to. He just has to have enough love to stay still as the static claws desperately at his brain to try and claim him.

In the end Martin’s kiss and the kiss of the blade do not feel so very different. Each is a promise and a goodbye. Each is laced with more grief than either of them should have had to bear.

And in the end there is a moment, a single one, in which the static and the pinprics of fear have finally, painfully disconnected from him. It is the first time he sees a Martin he truly loves without the terrible lense of an eldritch fear god. It is more beautiful than all the horror combined could be grotesque. He does not know, when the tower beneath them begins to crumble and the edges of his sight go dark, if Martin will survive this or follow him. But in the end the world is all that it should have been for the briefest of seconds and Jon wishes that the price could have been worth it.

71 notes • Posted 2021-03-26 13:00:37 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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paybackraid · 4 years ago

Text

Someone’s First Snow

Summary: It snows in the Land of Departure for the first time in a long time and, well, Vanitas has never seen snow before.

Genfic, post KH3, following Vanitas’ inevitable redemption (I promise).

Ambiguous POV. AO3

--------

“Fuck,” Ventus chanted, rubbing his forearms as he shook his way toward the kitchen. The castle was freezing, he could feel it in his toes. It was rarely toasty, but it only ever got cold, when…

One glance out of the window confirmed it. Snow.

Ventus hated snow. He wasn’t a cold weather person. He could handle fifty degrees at minimum, and even that was pushing it. When it was cold enough to snow, then it was just too fucking cold.

“When the fuck did this happen?”

“Ventus,” Aqua scolded from her place at the table, hand curled around a mug of coffee. “Language.”

“It’s below freezing, I’ll say what I want.”

Terra snorted from the kitchen counter where he steeped a cup of tea. “Amen to that. This fluffy white bullshit negates all manners. Hope no one important was coming.”

Aqua laughed and shook her head. “No, not today. Thankfully. I have to go out and see if I can salvage my garden. This came out of nowhere.”

Terra turned to lean against the counter, nursing his mug in one hand and holding out another to Ventus. Yet another sat on the mug warmer, but it would probably be there for a while.

Ventus extended his hand for his mug and melted into the warmth in his hands. It was too hot to drink yet, but this felt too nice anyway.

“So,” he said after a long moment of just existing in something warm, “what’s the plan for today then?”

“Lessons are off,” Aqua immediately said.

“Shoveling,” Terra said with a grimace Ventus could hear. Terra hated shoveling—apparently it messed with his back. Ventus should probably consider helping him.

“You should continue your studies, if you have any bookwork left.”

Ventus grimaced himself, but nodded. He hated bookwork, but Aqua was the Master around here. He didn’t ask about Kairi, assuming Aqua had already told her not to come. “I’ll help shovel, and the—“

Before he could get out his sentence, there was a commotion from the stairwell that instantly had all three of them on edge. Ventus took three steps back to peer out of the kitchen toward the front door, which now stood wide open letting in the cold. That had been closed when he passed it.

Two more steps and much wider vision outside confirmed it. A black mass stood outside in the front yard, surrounded by twirling blue emotions.

What was Vanitas doing up already…?

“What was that?” Aqua asked, coming around to see. Vanitas normally stayed up late and awoke late, favoring the dark. So it was no wonder if she wasn’t expecting him already. Nevermind that he was normally significantly quieter…

“Uh… I guess Vanitas is up.”

Aqua and Terra split a look, but Ventus was too busy watching his other half. Vanitas had been living with them for almost two years now, studying alongside him and Kairi to be a Master. He had mellowed out significantly since being released from Master Xehanort’s control, finding comfort in sullen silences and snarky one liners. He acted aloof most of the time—sometimes he’d show some positive emotion, and he spent enough time with Ventus that he knew what his laugh and amusement and smile was like, but little else.

And this?

This was none of that.

Starkly black against the white falling snow, Vanitas stood out like a sore thumb. His head was pitched to the sky, and when Ventus got closer, he saw his mouth hanging open. He looked entirely astounded. By what? The snow?

“Whatcha doin’, Van?” Terra asked when he squeezed past Ventus, leaning against the door frame.

“Snow,” Vanitas said.

Aqua hummed and stopped just in front of Terra, leaning back against him. “Yeah. We don’t see it often, so this was a surprise. Came out of nowhere.”

“Snow.”

“I see.”

Apparently realizing that he looked like an idiot, Vanitas closed his mouth and dropped his head to the white stuff at his feet. Aqua had gotten him a nice pair of slippers for his last birthday, which were covering his feet then. “I, uh…” he said, scratching at the place that used to be covered by the chin and headguard, in his hair. “Once we were split, I lived in a desert my whole life, and I don’t remember seeing any before that either. Closest I ever got to—“ he put out his hand to catch falling snowflakes, watching them melt in his palm. “Snow, was a Blizzard spell. But now it’s just happening. ‘S like magic.”

“Distinctly not magic.”

Vanitas shot all three of them a soured look. “You know what I mean.”

Terra and Aqua laughed. Ventus stepped inside to slip into his boots and follow his other half. Annoying as it was, there was nothing quite like someone experiencing their first snow. He stopped several feet away from him, knowing Vanitas would get up to shenanigans as soon as he realized what snowy options were available.

Vanitas took a step away, not the recoil it used to be so much as taking back his space. However, his roly poly Unversed, the two Blue Sea Salts having a good old fashioned time in their element, did not expect the movement. One had apparently been having the time of its life, and rolled under his feet in just the wrong moment.

Vanitas tripped and landed in a small snowdrift, his back immediately going rigid and hands flying out of the snow. “C-cold!”

The other three all laughed again, and since Ventus was closer, he neared and extended his hand. The darker boy took his hand and was hauled to his feet, but the shivering didn’t stop. The Blue Sea Salt at his feet crooned, looking ready for death, but Vanitas’ annoyance with the creatures had drained years ago, and he merely tapped his ankle against it as some sort of reprimand, and left it at that.

“Hey, Van,” Terra called from his place by the door. “Wanna know what the best thing about snow is?”

Vanitas turned to him, eyes huge with wonder at the clearly far wiser and much more knowledgeable Master. He shoved his hands into his fluffy pajama pockets to try to warm them.

“Terr—“

Ventus glanced over too late. A snowball pelted him in the face and knocked him off his feet, and instantly Vanitas and Terra were bent double, wheezing with laughter at his misfortune. To Ventus’ mortification, he even heard Aqua’s familiar breathy laughter shortly after scolding Terra.

Helpfully, Vanitas came over and offered his hand, and he didn’t even shove Ventus face-first back into the snow after he helped him up. Instead, the dark-haired teen leaned over and whispered conspiratorially into his ear.

Ventus’ face split into an ear-to-ear grin. He gathered snow and packed it together, handed it to his other half, and watched him vanish.

Seconds later, Vanitas appeared above Terra’s head. Rather than smashing it onto his head, though, Vanitas yanked the back of Terra’s shirt from his neck, and shoved the entire mound of snow down it. Terra yelped and danced away, and Vanitas dodge-rolled away from flailing, frantic limbs.

When even Aqua burst into laughter right away, citing Ventus’ attack as “well-deserved retaliation”, it was war.

Ventus and Vanitas arguably teamed up, packing snowballs and hiding behind heavy bushes, although they spent as much time pelting each other as they did Aqua and Terra. Terra hid behind the banister, collecting his snowballs, and Aqua used her magic to build up a fort of her own.

Aqua won. Naturally. Or at least, she came out of it covered in less snow than the other three. Ventus surrendered to her warp magic pelting him with snowballs on all sides, all while Vanitas valiantly declared, “you’ll have to kill me, I’ll never give in!” Typical Vanitas. A drift of snow had fallen off the roof and coated poor Terra halfway through the game, which gave him more ammo but also set the cold in that much faster. He had been first to fold.

Then, the shivers and sniffles set in, and they decided as a collective to head in. Aqua was pretty sure she saw Vanitas dunk Ventus’ head in snow one more time before running in, but she didn’t comment. They were having fun, and she’d never seen Vanitas have so much fun and act so carefree.

Terra, bless his soul, dumped out all of their chilled mugs of coffee and tea and started on hot chocolate. Aqua went to set a fire in the fireplace, and sent the boys running off to find wool socks and blankets.

“Well,” Terra asked once they were all bundled in. Ventus was sat between he and Aqua, cradling his mug, while Vanitas was wrapped up in no less than three blankets, chin propped on the coffee table. “How was your first snow? Hate it yet?”

Vanitas turned his face to the side and considered it, squashed against the table. He flexed stiff fingers and toes, then looked out the window. The snow was still falling. “Fun. I think.”

“Great. Then you’re going to love the part where we have to shovel out all of the walking paths and the gummi pad. It’s a thrill.”

Ventus groaned, having totally forgotten about the work that came with it. Vanitas groaned in solidarity and flopped back against the couch.

“Great. Can’t wait.”

#creative aces #my writing #khfanfic #vanitas kh #vanitas #idk yall vanitas is just adorable and thats its just not my fault #sorry guys i dont make the rules #dividass

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