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serene-victory-77 · 3 years

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Sweets Soothe The Heart

Hey, this is my piece for the Grishaverse Reverse Mini Bang 2021, organized of course by @grishaversebigbang!

I worked with @ciph3rrr, who came up with the idea of exploring a sweet-loving Kaz, and you can see her artwork here on Tumblr or here on Instagram!

Summary: A new hideout entails finding a little comfort and learning more about each other. But it can also highlight how certain parts of other people's lives are still a mystery. Inej goes on a perhaps silly, but genuine, quest to find out what Kaz likes to eat.

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32941690

Fic Under Cut:

When they’d first taken on the new hideout, they’d quickly rolled up their sleeves to make it more habitable, something to enjoy rather than just tolerate. It had been a joint effort (well, Kaz said his contribution was finding the place) to make the series of underground tunnels and rooms nice, but they made it work.

Even freelance robbers needed those little homely touches.

Nina specifically had made it her business to find everyone’s comfort food and fill their “cabinets” (it was crates stacked on each other with the open side facing forward, like large cubbies), going out to find candies, pastries, quick meals, anything to make it feel more like well-off college students rather than a den of thieves lying low.

That made Inej think, because all of them had some comfort food, right? The obvious was waffles, but they all had their individual favorites.

Nearly, that is. They all scratched their heads when it came to Kaz.

Before the new hideout, Kaz hardly even ate in front of them, never mind indulged in sweets. Whenever they ordered food, he’d ask to get whatever Inej or Jesper ordered, and he never complained. Inej was sure her blueberry waffles weren’t his thing though.

He only drank coffee, hard alcohol, or water. He never seemed to savor or favor any food.

Nina had given up on bothering Kaz, but it stuck with Inej.

She was with him all the time. If anyone would know what Kaz’s favorite food was, it was her, right? But she was just as lost as everyone.

What did Kaz like to eat?

She started watching him whenever food was involved, trying to pick up on his tells. The first time it worked was when Nina said he couldn’t order water from a diner and decided to get him whatever Inej ordered. She picked a chocolate milkshake, and she swore he perked up just a bit.

Inej tried other cold sweets, but nothing caught his attention until Nina said she was getting them all ice cream. Inej was going to ask for a scoop of chocolate, noticed Kaz’s interest pique again because he’d once again chosen to get whatever she was, and got Kerch chocolate and chocolate with brownies.

Later, before anyone had finished their cup, she noticed Kaz had already set his aside, the ice cream gone.

Nina asked her to phone in the waffles that night because she had to help Mathias. Inej considered what she was about to do and figured that they were all eating separately, so it should be fine.

Kaz opened the box and raised a brow. “This isn’t your usual order?”

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Kaz shrugged, but when Inej looked up 10 minutes later, the chocolate chip waffles she’d gotten him were nearly gone. It was surprising, because Kaz usually only ate half his food or forgot it for hours. She smiled.

There were a lot more chocolate treats in the house now, but they kept disappearing. Everyone but Kaz, who never participated in food talk, swore up and down it wasn’t them, but Inej knew.

Kaz’s favorite thing to eat was chocolate, sweet as can be.

Jesper noticed Inej’s efforts and talked to her about it when the weather turned chilly. He was amused by Kaz’s leanings, but struck gold when he paused and said, “Inej, do you think he’d like hot chocolate?”

Jesper was a genius.

When protection against the cold was put in place and they had wood stoves aplenty, everyone enjoyed the newfound coziness.

“Kaz,” Inej called out near a stove in the kitchen area. “Come here!”

A few seconds later he was in the room, wearing one of the large gray pullovers she and Nina had bought. His limp had been better since they fixed the heating.

“What?” he asked, coming to stand next to her.

“Help me make hot chocolate. Keep an eye on the pot so it doesn’t bubble over,”

He blinked in a manner she could only describe as vaguely doe-eyed and she mentally thanked Jesper. “We have hot chocolate?”

She nodded, smiling up at him, and he turned his face away a bit, a smile playing on his lips.

The relocation had done a lot for her and Kaz, simply because he was a lot more relaxed. Guarded still, but with a new sense of domesticity. It helped that he basically let her do whatever she wanted, even in his space.

Plus he had definitely noticed her trying to make eating actually enjoyable and was trying to be helpful about it. He asked her how she was every morning, and if there was anything she requested or mildly implied was wrong, he’d acquire it or fix whatever she needed. It was nice.

Inej set out the ingredients and toppings as the milk heated, which he kept an eye on. She handed him the chocolate to add as he saw fit, and immediately half the bar was in the pot.

He noticed the whipped cream and his expression lit up. “We have whip cream?”

“You like it?” she asked.

There was a small pause before he nodded. “It was always my favorite, hot chocolate with whip cream.

Finally, an admission.

“That sounds nice,” Inej said. “So you’ll have yours with whip cream. We have large mugs, you’ll be able to put a lot on top,”

Kaz hummed. “How do you take your hot chocolate?”

“I like adding cinnamon,”

He chuckled. “You love cinnamon,”

“What do you mean?”

“You get cinnamon in everything. Cinnamon rolls, churros, in your coffee, you add it to the batter when you make pancakes,” Kaz said, stirring as she added sugar to the pot. “Like how you add extra pepper to everything,”

She didn’t hide her smile. “Paying attention?”

“It’s only fair,”

“I suppose,” she said, softly knocking against his arm. He didn’t move away, just glanced at her, mildly amused.

Later, to check the taste, she brought a small spoonful to Kaz’s mouth. He obliged her, albeit surprised. His eyes lit up in a way he couldn’t hide at the taste. It was officially Kaz Brekker Approved.

When the toppings were set in the den for everyone to pick from, the giant mountain of whip cream already on Kaz’s mug didn’t go unnoticed. Matthias raised a confused brow but slowly pushed the whip cream bottle closer to Kaz, to everyone’s amusement.

Wylan mostly just appreciated that Kaz managed to get the mountain so tall.

Kaz seemed to be paying Inej back in his own way, like buying her two new knives and making an effort to get the food he liked himself so she was no longer organizing it as much. In addition, if she asked him to accompany her out, he’d nod, fix them up with warm drinks to take with them, and head out alongside her. She appreciated it.

She’d read once that sweets soothe the heart. Apparently, sweets soothed Kaz’s prickly temper and made him more amicable to suggestions.

They were walking around the town after finishing casing an art gallery when she spotted a notice on a newly opened cafe. Kaz paused when he realized she wasn’t matching his step because she’d taken out her phone to take a picture of the information that had caught her eye.

“What was that about?” he asked as she caught up.

“Oh, I just saw something Nina might know about. I go to her with questions about food usually,” Inej explained.

Kaz seemed fine with that and they went on their way.

The owners of this establishment, Harrie and Mert Stokker, are certified winners in the National Kerch Baking Competition. Particularly renowned are their pies, their brownies, and their Triple Chocolate Threat cake.

At first, she didn't know what to do with the information. It would have been simple to just buy some pastries and take them to the bunker, but she wanted to do more.

But what?

Then Kaz said that a nice Suli restaurant had opened a town over, which was a shock, and asked if she wanted to eat there with him. She’d agreed, overjoyed at the rare opportunity, and he’d reserved them a table.

Then it clicked. But how could she reserve a cafe? Especially at a newly opened one with famous owners when they were supposed to be laying low?

The next morning she was at the cake asking Mr. and Mr.s Stokker for a favor.

“I tend not to complain about early starts,” Kaz started, blinking up at the still gray skies. “But it’s freezing, and you don’t usually head out this early. Is something wrong?”

She shook her head, and her scarf slipped. Kaz paused to adjust it over her mouth and nose again, and she smiled although he couldn’t see it. “Nothing’s wrong, I promise,”

He raised a brow but trusted her as she led them down the quaint street.

When they reached the cafe, Inej knocked on the door.

A few seconds later it opened, and they were ushered in by Mrs. Stokker.

“Hello!” She greeted cheerfully. “You must be Asha’s companion. Mikka, was it? I’m Harrie Stokker, and this is my husband, Mert,”

Kaz glanced at Inej, noting the fake names she’d given.

He smiled all the same and shook their hands, his gloved. “Yes, it’s Mikka. It’s a pleasure to meet you, but I don’t know why I’m here,”

The Stokkers smiled and nodded at Inej to explain.

“Nearly two months ago I noticed this place was opening and when I saw the information, it said they had really good chocolate cake,” Inej explained. “We’re busy and you don’t like crowds, and there was no way this place wasn’t going to be full every day. I wanted you to be able to eat here though, so I stopped by and did a few favors for them, and they agreed to let us come in extra early this morning, and even push back their opening hours today,”

Kaz turned from the Stokkers to her, incredulous. “Two months? I should have noticed,”

“It was always early, so you’d have just headed to bed. And it was only a few days overall,” she explained.

Kaz shook his head slowly. “In—Asha. You didn’t have to,”

Inej sighed. “You’ve only recently started eating things that are actually good, and your favorite is chocolate. They Stokkers are incredible bakers, and this seemed like a great opportunity,”

“Asha said that you’ve hardly eaten anything sweet in years,” Mr. Stokker shook his head. “And that you’ve never had much of a chance to eat good baking before. It was a shame, so we agreed to this. We’re hoping we can rekindle your love for eating. Chocolate is the best for mood and temper, and any baker with a heart will tell you that cake is a way of life. We had to help,”

Kaz was clearly trying to keep a straight face, and Inej could relate. The Stokkers talked about baking like it was their religion, passionate and oddly deep.

They’re given a table by a window that caught the first few rays of pale sunlight, and they shed their extra layers in the comfort of the warm cafe.

“You somehow managed to get an empty cafe,” Kaz noted, impressed. “Have I ever told you that you’re a wonder?”

“A few times, but it’s nice to hear,” Inej smiled. “They have drinks too. I’ve heard their hot chocolate is amazing,”

Kaz smiled, then leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, why are you so determined? It’s kind, but you truly didn’t have to.

Inej fidgeted but her sleeve. “At first I just wanted you to participate in the comfort food thing. Then I was confused, because I’ve known you for years, and somehow I didn’t know what you liked to eat? I had hunches, but nothing concrete. Then I noticed you liked chocolate and sweets, and I thought, alright, this works. I was happy that you actually seemed to enjoy eating, rather than just doing it because you have to,” she admitted. “Plus, you light up when you have chocolate,”

“I do not,”

“You do,”

Kaz crossed his arms, but there was no bite in the action. He tried to stay straight-faced, but Inej had always been good at making him smile.

After a moment, she added, “And you’re a lot less snappy after you’ve had chocolate,”

Kaz rolled his eyes but knew she was right.

“I didn’t think it needed to change,” he said. “But you were right when you said it wasn’t going to make me less prepared in the future to relax and participate. And…”

“Hm?”

He shrugged, a tad defensive. “You’re happier, whenever I participate. So it’s worth it for that,”

She’s saved from having to react with anything more than a blush by Mrs. Stokker setting down their drinks, which Inej had specified the day before. Of course, Kaz got a large mug of hot chocolate with whip cream.

Inej’s own mug had cinnamon and she enjoyed the smell as she watched Kaz use a spoon to drink his because he didn’t want to ruin the whipped cream too quickly.

A few minutes later they had actual breakfast food to Kaz’s confusion.

“Before sweets, normal food,” Inej said, relieved that Kaz easily ate the bagel with cream cheese and chopped up melon with ease as she’d expected.

The sunrise had truly begun then, and he was bathed in warm light by the time they got to the cake.

It really was chocolate on more chocolate, and Kaz looked startled by it. Still, he took off the pointed edge of the large slice and tried it.

A few seconds later he put the fork down.

“I think I’m kicking out Matthias and replacing him with this cake,” he said mildly. “You asked if I had a god. This is it. I believe in this cake,”

Of course, Kaz would turn his shock into snark.

Still, she was happy.

“Have you tried it?” Kaz asked.

“No,” Inej admitted. “I wanted to wait until you did,”

Kaz urged her to eat her slice.

She tried a bite.

It was perfect. Not heavy, nor too light, strong but not overbearing. It left her wanting to take another bite immediately, and she did, marveling at Kaz’s restraint

“It’s so good,” Inej said, swallowing. “Saints. Nina’s going to kill us for not sharing,”

“At least we ate it before dying,” Kaz said, finally continuing to eat. “You two wanted to know my favorite food? This. Everything should just be this,”

He seemed proud when Inej laughed.

The rest of the time was relatively calm.

Maybe it had been silly for her to fixate on finding food Kaz liked, but finding herself on what was essentially a breakfast date with Kaz made it hard to regret. Plus, she’d learned that Kaz paid attention to her likes as well. And she wouldn’t give back the hours they’d spent eating dinner in his room alone, either.

He had a small, happy smile as he ate. When he looked up at her, the warmth in his coffee eyes startled her.

She sat back and basked in it.

#grishaverse reverse mini bang 2021 #grmb2021 #Kanej #Kanej Fic #my crows #Kaz Brekker #Inej Ghafa #kanej modern au #Kanej AU #reverse mini bang #Six of Crows #Six of Crows Fic #There's also a long 6.5k version that I wrote as the first draft if anyone is interested in that?#It explores the hideout #And has more conversations overall

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kumkaniudaku · 4 years

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Simple Syrup

You asked for Daveed smut and I tried to deliver. At least this one time. Enjoy!

Warning: Sexual Content. 18+.

Daveed Diggs x Black!OC (Olivia Jenkins)(Yes, the MC/ OC is black. Representation is important.)

"Yo, open up!" Heavy fists beat against the door of Olivia's downtown apartment, making her roll her eyes. "I know you can hear me, girl! It's your favorite pop-up roommate!"

"You've been evicted, Diggs!"

"I paid you rent, though!"

Turning the stove on low, Olivia shook her head as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Daveed always found a way to surprise her with his presence. He never texted before showing up at her door but frequently sported a backpack or suitcase full of clothes or Rafael for an extended stay. He and all his baggage were welcome anytime, with or without notice.

Stepping to the door, Olivia bit back a smile before responding. "I didn't receive any payments this month."

"I got it in my bag."

"Bag or bags?"

"Open the door to find out."

Daveed took a step back as the locks began to turn, waiting for Olivia's face to greet him with faux anger the way she did the last time he showed up out of nowhere and stayed for three weeks. Despite stopping by six months ago, it felt like a lifetime since he'd been in her company. Bi-weekly phone conversations weren't enough. He needed to be near Olivia while she watched whatever Housewives franchise had her attention for the month.

When the door opened to reveal the long hallway leading to her living area, Olivia stood with a hand on her hips and a grin on her face.

"Where is my money," she asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Just as she expected, he stood in the hallway with a suitcase that she knew cost a fortune to check at the airport and his worn Jansport full of junk and work.

Daveed laughed and bent to rifle through his backpack for a crumpled white envelope that he handed over with exaggerated purpose. "Here you go, Miss Jenkins. Sorry to be late on rent for, what, 8 months? I hope this is enough."

"Boy, you didn't really need to pay me. You're not on the lease."

"Good," he answered as he pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. "Because those are just Chick Fil A coupons."

Olivia stood with her mouth open as Daveed brushed her to roll his luggage to the first bedroom on the right.

He listened to her insult his "stupid face" and instruct him to hurry up while he scanned the room he had called home more times than he could count. All of Daveed's belongings were in the same place, with almost unnoticeable shifts to show that Olivia had cleaned once or twice. His favorite throw blanket was folded at the edge of the bed with his initials elegantly embroidered in the corner. The air smelled of the vanilla candle she kept on the nightstand next to a framed photo of the crew enjoying a roller coaster at Six Flags. His favorite trinket, Olivia's homecoming crown from undergrad, sat next to a single gold medal from Daveed's days competing in track and field. To him, it symbolized their bond from the beginning. To her, it was probably just a space to hide old items.

"Daveed, get in here! I need you to cut!"

All at once, Daveed's sense of self returned to center him in reality. He quickly kicked off his shoes once he remembered Olivia's rules and started off toward the kitchen to answer the call for his help.

Even with the windows open, he could smell savory and sweet aromas combining for a smell that reminded him of the holidays. However, the calendar placed them square in the middle of an excruciatingly hot summer. He could see the open bottle of BBQ sauce on the center island next to a mixing bowl full of things he couldn't recognize but knew they would taste great. Bushels of greens sat in a pot on the stove, boiling amid smoked meat and seasonings to complement the food cooking in the oven. Daveed felt excitement take hold of his face and forced the apples of his cheeks up toward his eyes. Olivia looked up from her task at the cutting board and smirked.

"I thought you were vegan now."

"My business is my business, Liv. We talked about this last week."

"We also talked about you heading directly to Toronto after your job in Atlanta and, yet, here you are." She studied Daveed's face for answers but found nothing but a growing smile. "Come over here and cut up these strawberries while I sauce the ribs."

Daveed followed directions without complaint, lazily strolling to the island and nudging Olivia away. He'd been her help in the kitchen before to open pesky jars or stir while she tended to the more time-intensive parts of the meal. On more than one occasion, he had fucked up, and each time she invited him back into her safe space with open arms.

"How's Rafa and the family," Olivia asked with her back turned while she bent to take a peek into the oven.

Daveed kept his eyes on her backside for a moment too long before answering. "Rafa's good. Amy sends her love and says that you are more than welcome for Friendsgiving this year. She volunteered you for pies."

"You volunteered me for pies, Daveed," Olivia corrected, knowing how much her friend loved her desserts. "What about my babies? Is Santiago the best big brother to Emelia?"

"He's...trying. But he did send a gift for the lady with the bald head. His words, not mine."

Olivia ran a hand across her tapered fade and chuckled. "I feel like he heard Rafael say that."

"No, Rafa calls you Thick Mr. Clean."

"Yeah, because that's what you said when you were drunk on New Years," Olivia accused as she gestured toward the cabinet housing her wine glasses. Daveed nodded before answering.

"I said it with love!"

"Mhmm, I'm sure."

Together they watched half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc be transferred into the separate glasses, waiting for the moment they could take a sip. The last time they shared a drink, they ran through two 12- packs of beer with Rafael and ended up dancing with street performers in Times Square. She hadn't been able to stomach the smell of a Budweiser since then and fully transitioned to fruity notes and sparkling Rosé with Daveed occasionally coming along for the ride.

Taking another long sip from his glass, Daveed leaned against the island counter to watch Olivia stir a mixture for skillet cornbread.

"What's got you so stressed?"

Olivia shrugged but didn't look away from the bowl. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"The last time you cooked like this, you were writing your dissertation. And the time before that, it was your mom."

The room fell quiet outside of the spoon, ricocheting off the sides of the mixing bowl. After several seconds, Olivia took a deep breath and looked up at Daveed.

"Daddy's getting remarried. Omari and I are his best-kids," she laughed. "I'm not stressed. Just a bit...sad, I guess?"

Daveed understood the issue without needing more context. Five years ago, he was the one sitting beside Olivia on the floor of her brother's home office after the news came that their mother had in the hospital. He was there for the saddest funeral he'd ever experienced and the months of reconciliation that the family struggled through on the way to some sense of normalcy. The idea that her father had found love again was heartwarming, but Daveed knew the occasion was bringing up old feelings.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shrugged again and moved the skillet to the oven. "There's nothing to talk about. I said I'm fine. I wish she was here, ya know, but I know she isn't upset. She always told us to move on once she's gone. She sure as hell would."

Daveed chuckled at the idea of Mrs. Jenkin's moving on in the afterlife. "She was funny like that. I remember when she met me for the first time and kept calling me Devante."

"Yes," Olvia exclaimed, a spark of joy returning to her eyes. "She'd call me and be like, that boy Devante is smart! Ask him if he can put me in a movie one day!"

Olivia's voice warped to imitate her mother as best as possible before she burst into laughter with Daveed.

"One of the last things she said to me was that I need to make sure you keep having fun. She didn't want you to stop enjoying life on account of her."

"Yeah…" Daveed watched Olivia down the wine in her glass with her eyes closed, waiting for her to continue her thought. "Well, you're doing a good job. We could work on your definition of fun, but solid effort so far."

"How can I do better? I'm open to criticism."

Daveed kept his eyes on Olivia while he reached across her body to grab the wine bottle for the final drink. Her breath hitched while alcohol buzzed through her system, creating the perfect storm for sudden arousal. She fought her thoughts by shaking her head to recover.

"You can start by grabbing those strawberries and bringing them over to the stove."

"Don't skip the question." Daveed's smirk as he followed her to the other side of the counter made Oliva hot with embarrassment, but she kept a calm exterior. "Are you still having fun with me?"

"I always have fun with you, D, you know that. Who else is gonna play Bop It with me at 2 AM on a Wednesday? The question is, are you still having fun with me, superstar?"

"Don't start that. I come and stay at your house because I miss you, not because I can't find somewhere else to sleep. You're my person."

"For now," Olivia added as a rebuttal, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at hearing the way Daveed felt. "What happens when you get married? You're gonna have to go be a family man like Rafa. Then we'll only see each other on Friendsgiving and Christmas."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Hm." Olivia's short but skeptical laugh effectively ended the conversation. Still, Daveed had already made up his mind to return to the discussion later in the week. "So, how long are you here this time?"

Daveed used one of his large palms to push a few curls off his forehead in search of relief from the heat in the kitchen. "I was thinking a couple weeks. Three or four."

"That's longer than normal! I get to have my favorite guy here long enough to help me put wallpaper up in the guest bathroom?"

"Am I only muscle to you?"

"Of course, not," she answered with a sweet smile, making Daveed mirror her expression. "You're also a taste tester. Open up."

Before Daveed could object, Olivia swiped barbecue sauce across his bottom lip for his opinion. The tip of his tongue appeared to taste the tangy brown sauce, finding an explosion of flavor that reminded him how much he missed Olivia's cooking.

"What's the verdict," Olivia asked over her shoulder as she turned off the eye under her simple syrup mixture.

"Tangy and sweet. I'm not sure why you don't bottle this up for sale. My dad would love some."

"Meh, I like having it as a treat for the people I love. All my hobbies aren't for profit, my friend."

Daveed dramatically threw a hand across his chest and gasped. "Did Mean Ole Liv just imply that she loves me? I-I'm gobsmacked. Utterly shocked and eternally grateful."

"Diggs, you're pushing it," she laughed. "Come taste this syrup before I start on the lemonade."

From experience, Daveed knew what to expect. But he humored Olivia anyway if only to see pride light up her face when he told her how amazing the sweet mixture tasted. After washing his hands in the sink, he skimmed his middle and pointer fingers across the top of the syrup to pick up enough to coat his fingertips.

He eyed the liquid for a moment, watching it slowly trickle down the side of his long fingers while he thought of his next move. Olivia stood at the refrigerator with her back turned, humming a song from The Wiz. At the same time, she gathered ingredients for the beverage.

"Hey...hey, Liv." Daveed had already started to close the short gap between them and stood waiting for Olivia to respond to his call.

"Wha -" A sudden swipe of syrup across her bottom lip confused Olivia. "D, what is your problem?"

Stepping forward, Daveed took her chin in his to bring their lips inches apart. "Is it still cool if I taste?"

Olivia stared at Daveed without blinking, fighting her brain for a competent answer to his question. Instead, she nodded in a daze with her jaw slack. His fingers took gentle meandering paths across the peaks and valleys of her face before using his thumb to part her lips.

Daveed's first kiss was a tentative peck to test the waters. When he received no resistance, he pulled Olivia closer for full access to her mouth.

Neither of them expected to fall into the kiss so easily. Olivia didn't expect to melt into Daveed's body while he dictated the pace and intensity. Daveed didn't expect to feel an overwhelming desire to consume the one person that always felt so close but far away. He wanted to feel and taste every part of Olivia while he had the green light. She reveled in Daveed's attention, even if it was only for a moment.

Taking a step backward, Daveed used his knowledge of the kitchen to guide them back toward the stove. Their lips remained connected to taste the last bits of each other. Olivia was the first to break the lip lock and move her head upward, directing Daveed to choose a spot on her neck to explore.

The cold, sticky simple syrup came next, the thick glob landing on the center of her chest and sliding to her cleavage.

"I've thought about this a lot," Daveed spoke barely above a whisper as he used a finger to spread simple syrup across Olivia's chest. "Kinda wild to say, but I have."

"How long?"

"A year. Maybe two."

Olivia released a shaky gasp once Daveed's tongue began licking from the space between her breast to the base of her neck to catch the simple syrup. As quickly as it disappeared, he replaced the sugar mixture with another round at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He groaned as the tart strawberry flavor mixed with the sweetness of the sugar and Olivia's skin. She grasped the back of his head for stability, allowing her eyes to flutter closed for a few seconds.

"How does it turn out? In your thoughts, I mean?"

Daveed paused to kiss Olivia's lips again and run his hands down her back. "Doesn't matter. We're here now, and I can't think of anything outside of how good you taste drenched in strawberry sauce."

"Simple syrup," Olivia answered, smiling as she sneakily dipped her finger into the pot behind Daveed. "It's simple syrup, and I haven't gotten a taste yet. Open your mouth."

They kept their eyes on each other while Daveed opened his mouth, waiting for whatever came next. Olivia took her time to coat his tongue in syrup, imagining how it would feel to experience the concoction from his mouth.

There started the mad scramble to get closer, taste more and touch longer. Separate but equal desires to completely consume the other person had the pair maneuvering around the kitchen. They remained attached at the lips until they reached the solid wood breakfast table near the large casement window. Daveed was the first to remove clothing, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him. A split-second decision had him rushing back to the stove to retrieve the syrup pot. He carefully placed it on the table while Olivia slid the straps of her summer dress down her arms to let the fabric pool at her waist. Daveed watched with a flirtatious smile, marveling at the expanse of her warm brown skin. Olivia returned the sentiment, letting her eyes rake over his broad chest and toned midsection.

One after the other, Daveed and Olivia added bits of syrup to different body parts to lick and suck the skin clean. A handful mistakenly dripped onto Olivia's thigh, and they watched the sticky liquid carry small chunks of strawberries to the inner portion of her leg.

Daveed regarded the sight with wonder before carefully dropping to one knee for a better look. He maintained eye contact with Olivia as he kissed his way to the sweetest spot, lingering in places that earned the most desirable response. The scratch of facial hair combined with his lips and tongue's soft, silkiness made Olivia keen for more. She could feel the blood rushing to pool at her inner thigh for a bruise that would leave evidence of a dream achieved. She smiled at the thought of seeing it when she was getting dressed and how her stomach might feel with butterflies from the memories.

Daveed mumbled praise after praise into the supple skin of Olivia's thigh before starting a journey back to her lips. When he returned, he slowly pushed the waistband of his sweats down his hips and legs.

"Oh," Olivia spoke, eyes wide while she fought the natural desire to let her gaze travel. "I...wow, okay. I feel like I'm violating you."

"I'm kind of asking you to," Daveed laughed as he stepped closer.

"This is so fucking weird. Are we really about to do this?"

"Only if you want. I mean, I want to, but we can stop whenever you say the word."

He was closer now, dropping kisses on her shoulders while he pressed their chests together to reduce the space between him.

Olivia's legs naturally hooked themselves around his waist at the same time that her arms circled his neck.

She leaned forward to speak against Daveed's lips with her eyes hooded in lust, "I want this."

Passion and the hint of strawberry coating their lips intensified the moment between Olivia and Daveed. He held her writhing hips steady while he stood on his toes to push forward. Simultaneous moans of pleasure rang out in the kitchen, surely gaining the attention of nearby neighbors.

Their hips bucked an even pace, repeatedly meeting to build tension in their bellies. Daveed felt the strain of each stroke in his thighs and calves but found the desire to fuck his friend on her kitchen table to override any other immediate discomfort.

"Are you a talker," Daveed asked randomly, making Olivia's eyes snap up from the action below her waist to focus her attention on him.

"What?"

"A talker. Do you like to talk during sex?" His question came between labored breaths and grunts holding a mixture of exertion and indescribable pleasure.

"Daveed, are you trying to have a conversation with me right now?"

"I mean, I like to - fuck - I...I like to talk sometimes. Is that cool?"

A high-pitched moan ripped through Olivia's throat before she could gather her senses to respond. "It's your c-call, Diggs. Just don't stop."

He followed directions without skipping a beat, digging into his strength to pick up speed when he sensed they could move to the next level. He peppered in filthy statements that stimulate Olivia's mind while driving into her with expert precision.

They held on to each other as they reached separate peaks with no regard for the climbing noise level.

"I wanna do this forever," Daveed whispered into Olivia's ear before nipping at the lobe.

"Not look into my eyes lovingly and write songs about me?"

Daveed chuckled and snapped his hips forward, earning a near-silent moan. "Can I use you calling me daddy on the hook?"

"You got a lot of work to do before that happens."

"I'll put in overtime."

Splaying his hand across Olivia's torso, Daveed pushed her to lay flat on the table before leaning to hover over her body. He used his waning energy to give her all the power in his hips, searching for a climax. When she thought she couldn't come anymore, Olivia felt her body jolt off the table once the pad of Daveed's thumb began rubbing tight circles on her clit. Daveed smiled at the reaction but felt it disappear as soon as his hips falter mid-stroke. He rushed to pull out of Olivia, fearing that if he stayed inside for a moment longer, he would expedite his journey to fatherhood.

Olivia helped his cause by curling her fingers around his length and joining his pumping effort while she propped her body up on her elbow. He came with a choppy moan and heavy breathing on her belly, his chest rising and falling rapidly in time with the stove's timer beeping for attention.

Both Olivia and Daveed dissolved into laughter.

"Please, don't let this dry on me. It's sexy now but a pain to get off later."

Daveed's laughter climbed to hysterics at Olivia's mention of the mess on her stomach before reaching across the table to grab napkins out of the centerpiece component.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly as he helped wipe her clean. "Condoms next time?"

"Or my mouth."

Daveed stood shocked for a split second while Olivia worked to readjust her clothing and hurry to the stove. He followed her lead and pulled up his sweats before clearing the syrup pot and grabbing wipes to disinfect the surface.

The room was silent while they arranged hot dishes on the counter and privately grappled with having sex for the first time. A sense of "now what" hung in the air, which made Daveed more and more uncomfortable.

After plates were fixed, they chose opposite ends of the table to enjoy the meal.

"You know," Olivia started, laughing as she swallowed the last piece of cornbread on her plate. "That simple syrup recipe is my mom's. This whole meal was her favorite thing to cook, and I made it because I was really fuckin' sad and needed her nearby. Then you showed up."

Daveed's eyes snapped up from his plate. He wasn't sure what to say and remained silent in hopes that Olivia would elaborate.

"A couple weeks before she died, she told me that she would still be directing my love life from Heaven. She grabbed my hand and said, 'Dammit, Bean, I'm gone get you a man even if I gotta do it during bingo with the good Lord.'"

"You think she's up there winning the grand prize?"

Olivia shook her head. "I think she forfeited it to send you to me."

Her answer made Daveed still to watch Olivia's eyes meet his set from across the table. She reached a hand across the table with her palms facing upward, beckoning Daveed to place his palm in the center of hers.

"We have three weeks to figure this shit out," Daveed said, smiling before bringing Olivia's palm to rest on his cheek.

She looked at him for a minute to take in the way his eyes reflected the sun before using her head to gesture toward the pot still resting on the counter.

"And all night to finish off mama's recipe."

#daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x reader

218 notes · View notes

nohoney · 4 years

Text

Do It For Me -3.1

notes: Part 3 of the Us Series from my ao3

characters: Dabi/Touya Todoroki, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Tomura Shigaraki

warnings: 18+, drug use, toxic relationships, polyamory

summary:

As curious as you are, you’ve already been warned by Keigo to not even attempt to ask about it. If Keigo got mad at you for even asking in the first place, no doubt that Touya would be furious at you. And there was no way in hell you were even going to think about investigating this on your own; not only were you not equipped to even do so in the first place, you had a strong gut feeling about this situation.

Keigo had told you before you went to sleep in his bed last night, “I know it might be frustrating for you to not be in the know dove, but trust me when I say that if Touya doesn’t want you to know something, it’s for your own good.”

3.1 ✧ 3.2 ✧ 3.3

Touya tends to keep you out of the loop on certain things, wanting to be as vague as possible sometimes if you do happen to ask. Like when you asked why he bothered attending university, he simply said that it was because his mother wanted him to and that was all that you got out of it. When you tried to probe further, he had snapped at you and left to go have a smoke. At ten months in the relationship, you’ve learned that if he didn’t want to tell you something, there was no way that you could change his mind.

Only Touya tells you what you need to know or not know.

The only thing you’re really curious about is some of his background, mostly about his family and his upbringing. As far as you’ve seen and heard, he’s the oldest of his siblings—two brothers and one sister— and he doesn’t necessarily get along too well with them from what he’s passively mentioned. He seems close with his mom, you’ve heard him talk on the phone with her sometimes, but no mention of his dad. You think it’s safe to assume that his family probably doesn’t know that he deals but you won’t dare ask him, it seems like a sensitive subject.

Speaking of dealing, you slip cash into his pocket while he cooks on the stovetop and pat his backside. Touya just chuckles and nods his head towards his jacket that’s tossed onto the couch. You reach into the inner pocket and pull out a little baggy of half gram of coke, putting it into the inner pocket inside your purse. One of your friends had asked if you could drop off cash to Touya to buy off of him and you could drop it off when you go to class next time you see her. “Yumi says thanks in advance, she says that she got her other connect’s coke the other day but that it’s just not as good as yours.”

“Heh, of course it’s not. Tell her that if she cheats again then I’m going to cut her off.” Touya jokes as he stirs the pot before lowering the gas on the stove and putting the lid on top. He rolls his shoulders briefly and walks away from the kitchen to let the food in the pot simmer for a little bit. “Keep an eye out on the food, I’m going to shower really quick.”

“Sure thing.” You make yourself comfortable on the sofa and just scroll through your social media on your phone, replying to certain messages or sharing posts to friends. Keigo texts you to as if you’re going with Touya to the next house party and that if you’re not, he’s more than happy to keep you company if you want to stay in and wait for Touya to get back. You smile down at his message and just send back a simple ‘we’ll see’ with a smiling emoji. Enough time has passed where you think you should go check on the food, just stirring it to make sure the food doesn’t burn on the bottom of the pot. As you sample your boyfriend’s cooking and add just a little bit more salt to taste, someone knocks on the door.

Touya doesn’t really get visitors aside from you and Keigo so you wonder who could be at his front door.

When you peek your head out through crack as much as the chain will allow, you see a young man dressed in a hoodie with his hands in his pockets. He seems to be as surprised as you are when you answer the door, his lips thinning into a line briefly before asking, “Is Dabi here?”

“Who’s asking?” you’re cautious because you’ve never seen this guy before. He’s got a rather distinct appearance, he seems sickly with his pale skin, messy blue hair and these scary red eyes you’ve never seen on anyone else before.

“Shigaraki.” And he says nothing more.

You have half a mind to lie and say that Touya’s not here but you hear the door to the bathroom open just in time, he walks out in fresh clothes and a towel around his neck. “What are you doing there doll?”

“Uh there’s a guy here, says his name is Shigaraki. He’s looking for you.”

Touya’s eyes narrow at the name before he walks towards you, setting you to the side and undoing the chain on the door. He lets this mysterious man in and shuts the door, the atmosphere suddenly very tense. You shift your weight from one foot to the other and look to Touya expectantly. Whoever the guest is, he only gives you a brief once over before looking to your boyfriend and says, “We need to talk, just the two of us.”

“Well that works out because my girl here was just about to head to the store.” you meet his gaze as Touya turns to look at you. “I know it’s a bitch babe, but the ingredients we want are in that fancy market that’s fifteen minutes away. It shouldn’t take you longer than ten minutes to get everything though. Make sure to stop by and get gas on the way back for the car, put down a twenty and I’ll reimburse you later.”

You’ve been with Touya long enough to know when he’s talking in code. Fifteen and ten, be gone for at least twenty-five minutes, possibly an extra twenty making it forty-five in total. So you play along and collect your sweater and purse, making sure you have everything before skedaddling out the door, no goodbye kiss unfortunately. You’re pretty much kicked out for the time being and you don’t even know why. “I guess I might as well drop off the half…”

Forty-five minutes pass but Touya hasn’t given you the okay yet to return. You think that maybe you need to wait an extra while longer so you wait outside his complex just a bit longer with your phone in your hand and anticipating his text. When it gets close to an hour since you’ve left, you decide to ask first if it’s okay that you return. Your phone pings immediately with a response.

Go stay with Keigo.

And that’s all you get, no explanation or even a time when you can see him again.

So you stay with Keigo at his place, exactly like he told you to and provides a distraction for the time being. The two of you cook together, laughing over the dinner you made as he tells you about a funny joke he heard earlier, cleaning up after yourselves when the meal is all finished, and then washing up together in his bathroom. He’s such a tease as he massages body wash all over you, pressing into a sensitive spot in your back or his fingers ghosting over your clit. He works you up to the point that you beg to be fucked, whining when you’re only given a teasing smile and just a nibble to your ear. “Please Keigo, no more teasing!”

He could be such a cheeky bastard though, ignoring your pouting but still has the audacity to touch you all over. “You know the acoustics in the bathroom always sound better, don’t you think?”

“Keigo!” you whine, your arms coming up and looping just right behind his neck. His cock is getting hard, you can feel it against your leg, so you don’t know why he’s not bothering to just take you right then and there. “You’re being a dick!”

“You know why acoustics are better in the bathroom (Name)?” he asks as his hands skim over your back and ignores your whines. “I’m asking you a question.”

“How am I suppose to know?”

Keigo chuckles at you and pushes you to lean against the back wall of the shower. He takes your wrists and holds them together in one hand, pushing them above your head so that your entirely exposed to him. He grabs his cock in his free hand and teases the head of it against your click, relishing your yelp when he slaps it against your sensitive pearl. “Just a little fun fact for you, acoustics in the shower sound better because you’re surrounded by hard, smooth surfaces that bounce back to you. So while the sounds are bouncing around, your voice sounds more pronounced, it takes longer to reach your ears and sounds more enriched. Isn’t that so interesting?”

You whine petulantly at him, asking why he’s telling you this in the first place.

“I guess what I’m saying is songbird,” Keigo releases your hands and quickly turns you around to make you brace against the wall, jutting your ass out towards him with his hands set firmly on your hips. “sing me a pretty song, yeah?”

Your voice echoes as Keigo rails you on his cock and your wet skin slapping against each other sounding particularly lewd. The shower is still running with warm water and steam clouds the bathroom but you feel even warmer as you push back to meet Keigo’s thrusts. One of his hands slide up your spine, warm fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair and pull your head back. You’re choked up, voice strangling to come out with your head angled back and your fingers trying to find purchase on something to hold onto.

He’s merciless, he won’t let you catch a break. Keigo pulls you back against him, one arm around your waist to hold you close and the other at your throat. There are heavy breaths in your ear, low growls and a rough command of, “Touch yourself.” Your fingers messily rub your clit, not using any kind of technique because honestly Keigo is fucking your brains out so you are acting on instinct. Breathless whimpers fall out of your lips, barely registering when you feel soft kisses against your temple.

“Fucking cum with me songbird, hit that last note for me huh?” Keigo growls into your ear, just about ready to cum. It’s more than just your cunt that’s getting him off, he loves to hear your voice as he makes a mess of you. He just wants to listen to your voice, it appeals more to his senses during sex more than anything else. Touya gets nudes from you, Keigo gets audio recordings of you moaning. “Say you wanna cum with me, say it.”

“Wanna cum with Kei… pleas’ make me cum…” you slur, your brain fucked out and just letting yourself be used. “Kei, les’ cum together…”

Your bent over as Keigo fucks harshly into your body, lewd praises echoing inside the bathroom as you beautiful cries rip from your throat. You have one hand braced on the wall of the shower and the other on the floor, just holding on for dear life and only able to moan and cry out his name. You’re thankful for him, thankful for his kindness, his patience, and his cock. Your orgasm hits you hard to the point that you see stars in your vision, unable to hold yourself up and dropping your weight. Luckily Keigo’s got you, happy to hold you like the little fucked out rag doll you are as he finished inside you.

The shower still runs and steam still curls in the air as the two of you catch your breath. He’s still hard inside you, thrusting just a few more times to overstimulate himself a little before pulling out. Any cum that leaks out of your pussy is washed away, you want to clench to hold as much inside you as you can.

Keigo towels you off first before drying himself, lending you one of his shirts to wear and tells you to wait on his bed like a good girl.

So you wait like the good girl you are, staring at your phone and waiting to hear back from Touya.

I miss him. You think to yourself and wonder what Touya could possibly be doing. It’s late in the evening now and he hasn’t given you an update about where he is and what he’s doing. A part of you is tempted to just go back to his apartment and wait for him there but you have a feeling that he sent you to Keigo to make you stay put. He trusts Keigo more than anyone else to look after you, to keep you warm and loved when he’s away.

A movie plays on Keigo’s laptop as the two of you are curled on the bed, him being the big spoon and an arm loosely draped over your waist. You sink your cheek into the soft pillow and idly reach a hand up to touch Keigo, giggling a little when the tips of your fingers brush against his chin stubble. He kisses your hand and sets it back in place against your chest, snuggling behind you to continue watching the movie.

A question rings through your mind and you wonder if he can answer it.

“Baby bird?” Keigo looks to you when you reach out and pause the movie. “Did you need a pee break?”

You adjust your position so that you can look up at him. “Who’s Shigaraki?”

His face doesn’t betray anything, keeping it straight and just looking down at you. “How do you know that name?”

“He came by Touya’s place while I was there, he said he had something to talk about with him and then I got sent out.”

Touya must have let Keigo know something, seeing as when you arrived he already had things ready in his apartment for you by the time you arrived. Keigo brushes his thumb idly against your cheek, slowly running the pad of it back and forth on your cheekbone rather lovingly even though his face doesn’t reflect his action. “If Touya’s never mentioned Shigaraki to you after all this time then that means he doesn’t want you to know about him. He has his reasons, alright dove?”

“So you know about Shigaraki?” you ask with a curious tilt to your head. With a confirming nod you can’t help but ask still who exactly he is. “Touya never lets anyone in at his place but that Shigaraki guy was let in, but he called him Dabi so he’s not close to him like that. He looked kinda young, I’ve never seen a guy like him around campus.”

“I’m not telling you anything dove, just let it go.” There’s a hint of a warning behind his tone but you don’t heed it, talking more and asking why you can’t know. “(Name), I’m putting my foot down. Do not ask me or Touya about Shigaraki. Now drop it, do not bring this up again or you’re going to piss me off.”

Keigo’s never spoken to you in that manner so it catches you off guard. He usually speaks with such a casual lilt and is very easy going about anything and everything. It’s something of a shock to you that you almost can’t comprehend it, looking down like a scolded child and mumbling out a quiet ‘okay’. He feels bad instantly having to have to talk to you that way but he had to convey just how much you could not breach this subject. He leans down to kiss your forehead, muttering apologies and bringing you into his arms to hold you tight. “Don’t ask Touya okay, he’ll get upset if you do. C’mon, let’s keep watching the movie.”

Touya contacts you the next morning to ask if you’re still with Keigo, to which you answer yes and ask where he is. He doesn’t give a proper answer and simply tells you that he’ll return early tomorrow morning. “Touya, I didn’t even get to kiss you goodbye yesterday if I had known that you were just going to disappear on me.”

“I’ll kiss you tomorrow when I see you princess, alright? Be good for me.”

He hangs up and you just stare at the lockscreen of your phone for a few seconds before sighing and setting down your phone. Touya wasn’t one for lying, he always told the truth if not at least keep quiet about what he didn't want to talk about, but it was rare when you could get him to admit something he doesn’t want you to know. Sure it’s fine to not have to know everything about your partner but this felt… weird. Somehow it feels worse than the three other girls he still fucks every once in a while when he goes out. The whores he was honest and upfront about, whatever is going on with this Shigaraki is entirely different business.

You believed Keigo but it didn’t really provide any comfort to you.

‘I miss you, come back soon’ You text him, it feels stupid seeing as you saw him yesterday but you hadn’t anticipated that you wouldn’t be returning to his apartment when he sent you out. Though to be fair, he probably didn’t expect it either. If there was one thing that had been made apparent while analyzing your boyfriend was his need to know about your whereabouts no matter what and ease his anxiety about who would be around you when you went out without him. Maybe that’s just how he loves you, just unrefined and not quite polished just yet.

Your phone pings a several hours later from Touya. ‘Miss you.’

━━━━✧

All you can do is just wait and sit pretty for him when he gets back.

Keigo drops you off at Touya’s the next day, parting with a lingering kiss before going on his merry way.

When you enter the apartment, you see Touya resting on the sofa along with a small rectangular sized bag on the coffee table. You're curious if it's Touya's, never seeing this kind of bag before and undo the clips and the zipper of the bag and curiously lift the top, an assortment of drugs siting inside. One of the few first you recognize is Adderall, ecstasy, cocaine, and shrooms. The pills are separated in those orange prescription bottles and the rest are in little plastic baggies. You’ve never been around whenever Touya gets a refresh of his inventory, always making you wait a day or two before he allows you back into his place. Wherever he hides it in his apartment, you’ve never once stumbled on it. Yet here it is, just out in the open and you just had to be curious and look inside. You close up the bag and fasten the clips on it before sitting on the edge of the sofa, careful to not disturb Touya.

You wonder if that Shigaraki guy is his supplier, if not at least connected to his supplier.

“If it isn’t my pretty doll…”

You jump at the sound of Touya’s voice, quickly looking behind you and catching his sleepy gaze and a lazy smile. He’s been sleepy around you plenty of times and you know what he’s like when he’s high, but there’s something different about his expression and movements this time that unsettles you. The only thing that comes to mind is that he might have tried something new and that scares you. “Baby? Are you on something?”

Touya gives you a slow nod in answer, his hand reaching out and weakly grabbing your bicep. He gives a light tug and makes you lean over towards him, soft coos of ‘my baby’, ‘pretty doll’ and ‘princess’ pass through his lips. When you ask what he’s on, he just slowly shakes his head and laughs lowly. “Can’t tell you baby, it’s not for you… Shit like this isn’t for my good girl.”

“Oh but it’s okay for you?” you ask with mild irritation. You take his hand and press your cheek into his palm, delicately holding his wrist and looking down at him with crinkled brows. “Well whatever you’re on, do I have to get the Narcan?”

“My smart doll looking out for me… you remember where it is?”

“Oh my god, Touya please don’t tell me that I actually have to be on the lookout for you in case you overdose. I don’t think that’s something I can handle.” You’re anxious now as you go into his bedroom and retrieve the Narcan from his bedside table, keeping it on hand when you go back to sit on the couch with him. Touya’s tolerance for narcotics is pretty high but on some level you still fear that something might happen. “Do I have to call Keigo?”

He answers with a lazy shake of his head, his hand idly rubbing your thigh as you look down worriedly at him. Glancing over to the case and then at you, he asks, “You look inside it?”

You’re not a bad liar by any means but Touya is a master of smelling bullshit, so there’s no point in trying to lie to lie to him in the first place even if he is high at the moment. “Yeah…”

“Anything in there you want to try?” His fingers drum against the denim jeans you wear before lifting to play with the belt loop. “If you want to try anything new, what’s the rule doll?”

“Never from someone else, only from you.”

As if you needed a reminder.

That rule was established shortly after deciding to sleep with Keigo. You were invited to a kickback with a small group of your friends who also brought some of their friends, you were all just sitting around the kitchen island and drinking, at least that’s what you thought that was all you were going to do. You got a little drunk that night and one of your girlfriends presented a sugar cube to you held carefully in between her thumb and forefinger. You didn’t think anything of it in your drunken state of mind, you were complaining earlier that night that you wanted something sweet so you thought she was just satisfying your sugar craving. After about half an hour, your vision began to distort, different colors suddenly washing over the crowd of people you were hanging out with and you asked what was happening.

It turned out that the sugar cube you ate was laced with LSD.

Your friends had tried to calm you down, telling you that you’ll ruin your come up but it was too late. “You gave me acid! I’m not ready to try acid, you should have told me!” The timeline of that night was fuzzy and you can’t remember if it was you or someone else who called Touya and Keigo, but needless to say they were angry upon arrival when they found you distraught in a corner inside the house. Even during your bad trip, you could taste Touya’s fury when he tried to find out who had given you LSD without telling you while Keigo was trying to soothe you. You were promptly taken away from the party and the boys watched over you for the remainder of your trip, staying up with you with the help of four grams of coke to help keep them alert for a little over twelve hours while keeping you quarantined inside Touya’s place.

Touya had declared not too long after that you were not allowed to take any kind of narcotic from anyone else but him from now on. When you asked the boys what had happened at the party when they showed up, both of them remained silent. The ones from the kickback who were trip sitting, they refused to answer your questions to fill in the blank of what happened that night. You suspect that Touya might have threatened them into silence but there was no definitive proof, you don’t want to recall the memory because all you remember was the anxiety, the strange distortions of shapes your mind could never produce while sober, and at one point telling Touya that you could ‘hear how hungry his couch was’.

Keigo tells you that they should have micro dosed you instead by dissolving the sugar cube into a glass of water and just had you take a sip because that’s how he had it his first time. Touya just straight up does not like it at all, he hated his first and only trip on acid. Either way you would not be ready to try it again at all anytime soon.

Never once have you had to watch over Touya while he’s high, he’s usually the one doing the watching seeing as he had a better handle on his tolerance versus you who’s experience was just a step up from novice. But you keep a careful eye on him as he drifts back to sleep, keeping a glass of water and the Narcan nearby, running your hand through his hair. The roots are growing out, white contrasting with the black hair dye you’re used to helping him do. Touya’s been talking recently about washing out the black for a while just to give himself a break. You’ve seen a few photos of Touya with his natural hair color, courtesy of Keigo, and he’s just as handsome no matter what.

You stare at him while he sleeps, a pillow propped up behind his head and his hands resting on his stomach. He still hasn’t kissed you like he promised he would yesterday on the phone, so you lean down to fulfill it for him. No response, like you expected, but at least you got to do it.

He’s sober a few hours later, though still just a bit sluggish from whatever it was he took and the bag is put away in the room but you don’t know where. Whatever food was made the day before yesterday, you see it in a container inside the fridge and the pot still sitting in the dish wrack. At least whatever dinner you were supposed to have together the other day wasn’t put to waste and Touya went through the trouble of making sure you could have it later on. So you warm up a portion of it in a small pot and just stir, barely moving as Touya comes up and hugs you from behind. His arms come around your waist and presses right up against you. “You’re not going to ask?”

“Ask about what?” you continue to stir the food in the little pot.

“About what happened the other day?” Touya brings his hands to cup just underneath your breasts and slightly sways in place, your body following along with his movements. “Not curious at all?”

You shrug your shoulders, thinking of what Keigo said the other day and his usual approach to things in life. You channel him inside you and just act cool, casual, and whatever about it. “I figured you would have explained yourself by now if you wanted me to know. You’re usually so straight forward about everything.”

Touya makes you tilt your head up to look at him with a slight nod of approval. “Good girl.”

God the way your heart flutters when he gives you praise over the simplest things… even over something suspicious like this.

You do feel the need to ask, “Is that person someone I’ll be seeing more of?”

“If things were one hundred percent in my control then you would have never caught a glimpse of him in the first place. But to answer your question, you shouldn’t be, he doesn’t ever drop in like that. He wasn’t interested in you when he came by thankfully.”

You should know better than to ask because you’ll know it’ll make Touya seethe but you do anyway, “Well what would you have done if he looked at me a certain way? Set him on fire?”

“To finish him off after a slow torture, yeah.” Touya spits through gritted teeth and reaches over you to turn off the gas to the stovetop. “The shit I’d do to some guys for fucking staring too long at you…”

You could relate, you’ve had some vivid fantasies sometimes about the side whores and just straight up eliminating them in the most violent way possible. Not just stupid hair pulling or petty name calling, you imagined inflicting blunt trauma in certain fatal areas or having them tied up in the middle of the road while you sat in the driver’s seat of Touya’s car, revving the engine and just speed down to get to them as soon as possible.

Touya probably had more imagination for what he’d do to anyone he thought was a threat but you’re not going to open that door. So you turn around in his arms and rest one hand at the nape of his neck, your fingers massaging gently and you assure him, “Hey relax, I’m yours Touya.”

“Yeah… you’re mine.” Touya sighs in what seems like relief as he leans down to hug you. “You’re my doll, no one else’s.”

You won’t bring up Keigo and the fact that you’re being shared with him, it feels like Touya needs the reassurance right now that it really is just the two of you. In these moments you realize that his insecurities are thinly unveiled, not quite put out there but just peeking out the corner and hoping to not be noticed. So you say it again and he tells you how much he likes when you say his name, that when it falls out of your pretty lips that he can’t help but want you to scream it until your voice is raw and hoarse. “Only you can call me that doll, it’s all yours.”

Not Dabi, haven’t used that name in months.

“Touya, Touya…” you whisper in between breathless kisses, gasping as you’re pulled away from the kitchen to the bedroom. Guess that food will go cold once again…

Touya’s body isn’t in top condition yet to have sex but he pulls off your bottoms when he pushes you to lie back on the bed. There have been night’s a plenty where either you serviced Touya strictly and vice versa for you, though most of the time you just loved to fuck. Fuck when you’re happy, upset, a little drunk, or bored and all that; there’s nothing like feeling close to Touya when he’s inside of you. He’s unlike any other partner you’ve had before, no one is as hypnotizing as him, you’ve never been drawn in to anyone else like Touya before.

And he’s as entranced by you, if not more.

Kisses pressed into the inside of your thighs along with playful nips and teasing licks on your sensitive skin. He knows exactly where to touch you where you’ll practically beg for him and the right words to use to make you desperate because Touya’s not afraid to hold out on you if he wants to. He likes to see you frustrated and worked up, if he wants to pull out to edge you for the rest of the night, he’ll do so and ignore your pretty cries and desperate pleas that you’ll do anything for him as long as you can cum on his cock. Most of the time he gives in because, well, he loves your pussy and he loves fucking you. But fuck when Touya decides to be sadistic, the role always suits him quite well.

Not tonight though, no delicious sadistic edging or degradation. Touya knows that he made you worry the day before so he wants to make it up to you in best way he knows how to. He wishes that he could use his dick properly right now to fuck you but his body is still trying to process the shit he took earlier so it’ll just have to be his mouth and hands for the moment to get you off.

It’s not hard to get you to cum, there have been instances where as soon as his dick sheathes into your pussy you gush on the spot. There are days like that where it’s just that easy and other days where you need it angled just the right way inside you or the right words to fire off your imagination. “Fucking love it when you squirm like this, so goddamn cute.” Touya growls as he drags the pads of his fingers against your G-spot before flicking his tongue on your clit.

Those words help but it’s not quite what will set you off.

“Say more.”

So he does, finding the right combination of words, adjectives, proper nouns, and verbs to stimulate your mind while stimulating your pussy. It’s vivid and a pretty picture, more than just a pretty picture because he describes actual memories of the steamiest and sordid encounters. The first time you fucked on the fourth floor of the library way in the very back, the day you skipped your afternoon lectures to day drink at a brewery and just made out in his car, skinny dipping at night at the local pool, and one time you sucked his cock while he was on the headset and playing games online with Keigo.

You’re just about there, heavy breaths and panting exiting from your body as your toes curl and your fingers twist the sheets in your hand.

Touya could say more about how much he loves to fuck you seven ways to Sunday, all the kinks he still hasn’t tried with you yet and is excited to try when you’re ready, that he wants you to cum all over his fucking face and lick your sensitive cunt until you can’t take it anymore. You’ve heard it before, some more than others, but it’s not those words that make you come undone before him tonight. It’s not the images of past passionate encounters and the anticipation of getting fucked by Touya that do make you cum all over his face like he wanted.

He spouts that shit frequently but tonight he says something different, something that in the back of your mind that you were probably aware of but he never voiced out loud. When the words leave his mouth and are spoken out to you, it’s a new type of intimacy and sentiment that elevates you and makes you realize how deep you’re in this with him, how deep he is in you… emotionally.

“I’d do fucking anything for you.”

Bullet one.

You choke up, it’s not that you want to cry because how moving those words were but because the revolver is loaded and he just fired the first bullet in the chamber that will undoubtedly lead you to an intense orgasm.

“Never had this with anyone else.”

Bullet two.

“I don’t want this with anyone else, believe me.”

Bullet three.

“I don’t fucking deserve you but I’ll do what it takes to keep you with me.”

Bullet four.

“It’s scares me doll but I…”

Bullet five… will he say it?

“I’d do it all for you.”

Bullet six.

The chamber is empty and the barrel of the gun wisps smoke, your back is arched as your whole body convulses with an earth shattering orgasm that you’re literally left shaking from how powerful it was. And Touya continues to speak those words from bullet one, “I’d do fucking anything for you.”

And he is, Keigo unveiled that, the whores are dwindling not by your request but by Touya’s conscious choice. He’s choosing you, slowly but surely, there will only be you if the cards are dealt right. No one has been in his bed the way you’re invited in, hasn’t held anyone else the way he does with you, and more than likely has not been this vulnerable with someone else either. He’s terrible at feelings, still gets his dick wet sometimes when he sells to his side whores, and he withholds certain secrets to keep you safe.

Should I say it?

You thought he’d say it, those deeper feelings that Keigo had accidentally unveiled, you thought he’d say ‘I love you’ tonight but this is a step closer to it. You won’t make him say it, you won’t beg for it, you’ll sit pretty and patient because Touya will come around. He may have his secrets but he releases the ones to you that are worth knowing, and you’ll get it so long as you’re good for him.

Don’t ask about the whores, it’s okay be jealous but don’t ask, don’t get into another argument. Don’t ask about where the drugs are from and if that Shigaraki guy is linked to it, he would have told you by now if he wanted you to know. Don’t ask to see another man because him and Keigo should be enough, they won’t treat you as good the way they are with you. Do whatever Touya wants of you and he’ll do it all for you in return.

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #takami keigo x reader #takami x reader #dabi #takami keigo #bnha x reader #bnha #tw drugs #tw toxic relationship #dabi smut #hawks smut #us series

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pinkcatharsis · 4 years

Text

I dunno if I should legit continue this because I can’t remember where I was going with it. Read a prompt at @sloaners anon or a comment in one of their posts (fantastic art btw go check it out!) about Tsunade adopting a bb Tenzou and well. I wrote this and it’s unfinished and yeah.

I actually don’t even have a title for it. Was supposed to be an eventual YamaIru, too. Oh well!

—

Names have power, they say.

Tenzou can agree to a certain point because his experience from his missions, his targets, countless reconnaissance on high profile politicians has proven that people tend to cower from the syllables of a name if they are a threat.

Names carry prestige more than an identity.Names give history, are the pillars for legacy provided it is a name the people can accept. More often than not, it is a vessel for fear, control

They’re also a convenient excuse for people to either sing with high praise or forget because the truth is always a pill too hard to swallow.

Sometimes it lies ignored despite its great sacrifice to stop a rampaging monster, when the womb still bleeds fresh and a goodbye too soon falls from crimson lips. It is ignored because it is easier to hate someone helpless than to acknowledge a name that saved everyone.

Sometimes it is indifferent, distant, as cold as the unreadable, white irises of its clansmen.

Sometimes it lies abandoned, walls cracking, dust collecting over blood stained tatami mats where the weight of shame fueled enough strength to slice through flesh. Shame because of a choice to save one’s comrades as opposed to prioritising the mission.

Sometimes it is soaking in blood, whispers of its massacre echoing loud, and towards the end of it, the word traitor.

And sometimes, they’re just old, only remembered through history that is a core subject within the Academy walls, a prerequisite in terms of knowledge for every Konoha shinobi. They’re faded, scattered, heirless, visually only present through the carvings of stone that towers over the village.

Tenzou is conditioned to not pay any heed to something as trivial as a name. Not when he’s been conditioned, trained extremely well, that the only thing that matters is servitude to the village. That the name Konoha is the only thing of true value.

Greater people have sacrificed themselves for the good of village and now, their heir wanders Konoha’s walls shunned, sneered, hated, ignored. Their names hardly mattered in the present -- it’s like the Yellow Flash only exists as a tier to be achieved in terms of talent, hard work and mission success and nothing else. As if the man behind the legacy hardly existed.

Legacy means nothing, Tenzou realizes, in the grand scheme of things.

When you die, you just die.

It’s okay to die nameless.

Tenzou hears about Tsunade’s arrival tucked behind the cover of an open locker door. Apparently, Tsunade-hime is in the village for a visit. And like always, she has spent her first day sitting with her former sensei, having tea until she had flung the table across the room, out the window in a fit of uncontrolled, roiling rage.

“I think it’s because sandaime is asking her to stay,” one fellow ANBU says.

“No, it’s got something to do with her gambling debt for sure,” another says.

“Monkey says it has something to do with the council pressuring her to produce an heir,” a softer voice says.

“I thought she couldn’t?”

“Or she doesn’t want to?”

The conversation explodes, only coming to a sudden stop when the sound of a door opening puts a halt on the outright gossip that Tenzou shamefully has been eavesdropping on. Someone dares throw a table out the window in front of the Hokage? And the Hokage does nothing? Tenzou thinks back to Danzou an Root -- if any of them dared show such insubordination, that would mean at least half a day’s worth of lashings under the scorching sun and then dry fasting isolation for thirty-six hours. Not many tend to survive that but that would just mean they’re too weak to remain in Root, anyway.

“Don’t you guys have better things to do?” Kakashi’s voice cuts through with a drawl. It is followed by a series of locker doors shutting, rapid shuffling and then silence. “Oi, Tenzou. The Hokage needs you.”

Tenzou straightens, tugging his clean armor on and running a comb through his damp hair. He slams his locker shut and gives his senpai a wordless nod, acknowledging the summon.

A summon that suddenly renders him not so nameless anymore.

Tsunade is a towering figure, heals almost five inches high, back straight, eyebrows narrowed, hands on her hip and staring down at him like he’s a two year old.

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” Tenzou responds, keeping perfectly still. He isn’t intimidated by Tsunade’s persona. He’s just feeling a little too awkward because if Tsunade leaned any closer to examine him, her breasts would be ten centimeters too close to his face to be called professional, let alone proper.

“You are awfully small for a fourteen year old,” Tsunade tartly says, almost disappointed.

“I am a hundred and twenty nine and a half centimeters,” Tenzou agrees, well aware of how stunted his growth is. Danzou always factored his slow growth to the radiation and chemical exposure, a side effect to the experimentation Tenzou miraculously survived. But small doesn’t mean weak, Danzou had said, one of the few times he had been encouraging.

“Do you even eat, boy?” Tsunade scoffs.

“Yes. Five meals a day when I am in the village, continuously supplemented by calorically dense ration bars that Danzou-sama advised to--”

“Hah! Which one -- the one that tastes like sweet wet newspaper or the one that tastes like mouldy bread?” Tsunade snorts.

Tenzou finds himself stammering a little, glancing a little cluelessly at the Sandaime who is taking a very, very long drag from his pipe. Tenzou’s mouth quickly clamps shut before he can voice out his confusion. He can’t honestly say he knows what mouldy bread tastes like nor can he say he’s actually tried eating wet newspaper, let alone a sweetened one. So he goes with what he thinks is the correct response to this kind of inquiry. “The N-4150?”

“Sweet, wet newspaper. At least that old fart chose the better formula.” Tsunade rolls her eyes before taking - thank heavens - a proper step back.

Tenzou blinks once, altering between Tsunade now very put-upon expression and the Sandaime who is standing there as if he were part of the book shelf. “Hokage-sama, should I not continue consuming the N-4150?”

Sandaime rumbles an amused noise, blowing out a slow stream of tobacco smoke before he stands, rounding the table. “Why don’t you demonstrate your Mokuton skills for Tsunade, Tenzou? After all, that is the reason you were summoned here.”

It gets another eyeroll, with a bit of a scoff from Tsunade, who crosses her arms under her breasts.

“Yes, Hokage-sama,” Tenzou acknowledges.

He puts his hands together, channels just enough chakra and forms a small pot in his hands, slowly filling it with roots coiling until it sprouts green leaves, topped with large, black centered white poppies.

“Oh, white poppies,” Sandaime smiles, his face wrinkling. “An interesting choice. You see, Tsunade, Tenzou here has been studying botany for a year now. He’s a bit of an artist with his gardening. Tenzou, didn’t you recently start studying architecture as well?”

“I have only started reading some reference books three months ago, Hokage-sama,” Tenzou responds, with a bit of a nod, as his fingers tightens a little bit around the pot in his hands, not quite sure what to do with his creation-demonstration.

“Hmmm,” Sandaime hums, a touch bemused before he brings his pipe back up to his lips. “Reminds you of someone, doesn’t it, Tsunade?”

Tenzou looks at Tsunade, who in a space of a heartbeat looks far too young in a show of vulnerability, as her throat bobs when he swallows. It gets washed away when he clicks her tongue and turns to look at Tenzou, giving him a once over.

“Well, no one fucks with grandfather’s DNA, gets away with it and then keep it from me. Had it been anyone else but Danzou, Root of all places, I wouldn’t take issue! When did you discover your Mokuton skills, boy?”

“A year before I graduated from the Academy.” Tenzou swallows. “I was five years old.”

“Nine years! With that creep!” Tsuande shouts.

Sandaime’s tobacco inhale had to be the longest one Tenzou has ever seen.

Sandaime exhales, responding with a sigh, “Better late than never, hmm?”

“Fine.” Tsaunde grouches. “I’ll do it. Tenzou, you can call me okaa-san when you’re ready.”

The pot drops from Tenzou’s hands.

“Eh?”

Tenzou thinks it's a good response. Given the proverbial punch to the face he’s just received.

It’s not that Tenzou wants to say he cares much for the idea of family.

It’s more like he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

(What does family even mean?)

So Tenzou, much like every other time he gets moved around like he’s no more than a potted plant, agrees.

Not like it really matters, right?

He thinks of it as just having another sort of… superior?

A superior that Tenzou apparently now gets to live with after all of those paperwork.

In a large, inherited estate, closed off, covered in wildly growing flora and fauna. The estate does not look like it’s been lived in for decades. There is damage from the growth of vines, some of it poking through the tatami doors, and getting to the interior of the house. There are a few soda cans littered around the gate, some old, some new. Likely the result of dares from the younger crowd of Konoha.

The once heralded Senju estate that Hashirama and Tobirama and their families once resided in is now nothing more than a shadow of its former glory. Uncared for. Outdated. Obsolete.

“Well,” Tsunade huffs. “I haven’t seen this place in, hmm, ten years maybe? Maybe twelve? Tche, what a dump.”

Tsunade toes an old, faded orange soda can by her heel, kicking it further away.

Tenzou wishes he’s no more than a spore in the ground. Should he say something? He may be a Senju by name and by experimental DNA, but that doesn’t really make him a Senju-Senju.

It’s just circumstances.

“Well? What do you think, kid? You like the house?” Tsunade holds her hand out at the once upon a time regal grounds, now overgrown with weeds and littered with random junk.

Tenzou looks at the estate again and decides to go with the most diplomatically acceptable response there is in this case.

“It’s a lot bigger than my apartment,” Tenzou politely responds, as his eyes stray towards the patch of wildly growing rosary pea and oleander growing by the gate.

Tsunade’s booming laughter echoes throughout the entire compound, bemused and real. She doubles over, slapping a hand on her knee, her laugh tapering off to a bit of a wheeze. It almost sounds nervous. A little hysterical even.

Tenzou tilts his head to the side, staring up at this woman, this new mother of his, a legendary sannin, one of the most if not the best, medic there is in the country.

Would it be rude to ask her if she is okay?

“Kid,” Tsunade snorts, shaking her head, reaching out to ruffle Tenzou’s long hair. “I like your sense of humor. You and I are going to get along just fine.”

Tsunade asks to see his apartment.

And then proceeds to wear what Tenzou can only assume is her analytical face. It’s peppered with a little judgment, too.

Tenzou’s current apartment is a shoebox in size, with enough space for a single bed, a small sectioned off wall by the door turned to a makeshift kitchen and a connecting bathroom that Tsunade, no doubt, will have to carefully manage her long limbs.

“You like it here?” Tsunade asks, her lips twisting at the sight of the old hotplate on the tiny kitchen counter.

“It serves its purpose.” Tenzou shrugs.

“That wasn’t my question,” Tsaunde prompts, turning that analytical gaze back to Tenzou.

Tenzou frowns, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the back of his head in partial confusion, partial irritation. It’s a comfortable space -- what is she on about? Having an opinion on something as trivial as a living space serves no purpose in the betterment of Tenzou’s skills in the field. It has no correlation to his successful mission counts. Liking something or anything for that matter doesn’t make missions easier or harder, either.

Unsure of how to respond, Tenzou resorts to Danzou’s advice when it comes to undercover. If you’re caught in a tight spot, the easiest thing to slip out of attention is to either blend with your surroundings or mirror the person in front of you.

Tenzou goes for the mirror, sloping his eyebrows down the same way Tsunade is, relaxing his shoulder to what looks like a wary slump, canting his head just the tiniest bit to the side, and responds with what he hopes is a conclusion to this conversation, “It’s all right.”

Tsunade goes quiet for a while, before she sighs slowly and curses under her breath.

“Let’s try this again,” Tsunade sighs, gesticulating with her hand towards the entirety of the small apartment. “What do you think would make this space better suited for you? Take into consideration that you are also currently studying botany and architecture.”

Tenzou looks at the small stack of reference books he had borrowed from the public library, how he has to do most of his reading on the bed. If he had to sketch on drawing paper, he usually does so on the ceiling given the lack of floor space and a full flat wall that isn’t lined with bulging pipes or the sil of the window, with the paper taped on the corners. Makes it easier for him to get on his knees and practice his pencil sketches.

“Then that’s something you should consider when you fix our house, hmm?”

Oh. So he’s fixing it.

Well.

Okay, then.

—

And yeah that’s all I got. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#yamato tenzo #anbu tenzo #tenzou yamato #yamairu #tsunade adopts tenzou #tsunade is wine mama #senju tenzou #please help yamato

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saundraswriting · 3 years

Text

Missed Signals Chapter 2

SUMMARY: Reki has a tendency to do things while being unaware. He doesn't notice his leg shaking or how much he fidgets with his headband or even how much he picks at his skin. He only notices when someone tells him to knock it off or when he focuses so intently his brain thinks of nothing else.

WARNINGS: Nothing too grand, descriptions of ADHD symptoms,

NOTES: I am trying to cope with what I am thinking is undiagnosed ADHD by projecting onto my favorite characters. I mean no harm and no offense.

Ao3 // Missed Signals Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Reki wasn't bored per se. He was interested in the material being taught, but he couldn't sit still enough to focus. He seemed to be having this problem a lot more now that he had spoken to Cherry and Joe slightly against he will. He was trying to be still as possible knowing that if he began to shift then the class would be disrupted but he could feel it building under his skin, an itch he needed to scratch. He was glad at the moment Langa reached over, swapping his clicking pen for a soft pencil. He wanted to apologize to the nearby students but was too busy twirling the pencil around his fingers like a drumstick, he was able to tune back into the teacher but unable to write his notes, but the itch was at least soothed under his skin.

He wasn't too worried about his notes anymore though. Langa had asked Cherry for some lessons on Japanese to help better his literacy quicker. He used his skills to take better notes for Reki to copy on the rougher days like today. When it came time for a break, Langa and Reki stayed in the classroom, leaning against the nearby open window.

"How did you know?" Reki asked Langa. "How do you always know when I need to fidget?"

"I don't always. Just like you are starting to pay attention and are learning your cues, so am I. I notice that you tend to freeze and then you gets more and more tense as it gets worse. I know that you as a person, think you are a burden, even though you are not, so you don't like to do things that attract attention, like clicking your pen. So I gave you my pencil." Langa explained. "Also, if I look at the right moment, you look for ways to escape. Your eyes flick from door to door like you are caged in, so you are ready to leave if needed. Not only at school but when we are in busy places too, like you need to always be ready to move at the drop of a hat." Langa said.

"Hm. I didn't know that. Thank you for helping me. I don't know what I would do without you." Reki pulled Langa into a tight hug.

Langa hugged him back, squeezing tightly, knowing that Reki liked firm physical contact. "There is no need to thank me. I am glad to help you as much as I can."

Break ended, an das they returned to their seats, Reki's restlessness seemed to ease. Reki took his notes for his last class with minimal distractions and drawings. They finished their school day, standing by the entrance gate deciding on what to do.

"I want to skate but I know I need to do the homework, we got assignments in most of our classes. Do you think we could go to Joe's?" Langa asked. "The noise sometimes helps you focus."

Yeah. Can we skate for like an hour first? I want to make sure I can focus, we can take the long way there, right?" Reki asked. Langa playfully hesitated and after Reki's third 'please' agreed to the plan.

When they finally get to Joe's restaurant, their normal spots at the bar are open. They duck in and settle next to Cherry while pulling out their books. Everyone seemed to understand by unspoken rule that those seats were for them and rarely were there people in them. In a second there was a pot of tea and a pitcher of water sat in front of them.

"Hello boys. How was school today?" Cherry finally noticed them getting their school books out of their bags.

"Good. Today I was able to take notes for a few of my classes really well. I did have an issue before last break but Langa helped." Reki said while snatching Langa's notebook to copy for the class he didn't take notes in.

"He started getting tense and seemed...flightly. So I took his pen and made him use a pencil. He twirled it around for the whole period, but was able to follow along really well. It seemed to help ease his restlessness." Langa explained. Reki was tuning out their conversation, biting his thumb while looking between the two notebooks and the textbook.

"He did the same motions? Consistently? Interesting." Cherry made a mental note to look into that along with the research he was doing on neurodevelopment disorders. "Why are you guys here? Not that we don't love to see you everyday of the week." Cherry tried to keep the sarcasm to a minimum, he knew Reki was sensitive.

"Reki suggested it. Sometimes the constant noise is just right for him to get into the zone. He can focus because it isn't too loud or too quiet I guess. He is trying different environments to see if he can pinpoint what works and what doesn't. After finally talking about it, he seemed to realize that this is a problem that won't go away on its own. Reki is smart, reckless but smart." Langa said. He moved to Cherry's other side as to not talk over Reki for the moment.

"The noise seems counterintuitive. I don't get it." Cherry said. His eyebrows were furrowed in thought.

"I told you before, it is different for everyone. But The noise here or other places like this work for us sometimes, cause it is rhythmic. There is a pattern-people come, people eat, people leave. Our brains like patterns, it is even better when we can think about them in the back of our minds. We are fully invested without taking our focus off the main things. Doesn't always work though." Joe cut into the conversation.

The three skaters looked over at Reki who was diligently copying notes while biting his fingers of his left hand. He was the most focused they had seen him in a while outside of skating. The restaurant was working in his favor. However he was chewing rather violently on his nails, Langa narrowed his eyes at the red and raw tips of his fingers. They looked sore and painful, but Langa couldn't pin down when he saw Reki chewing at his nails. From what Langa could see it was a constant habit.

"He is chewing his fingers too. You can see the redness and bits of blood around his nails." Langa commented to Cherry. They both sat and watched as Reki worked hard.

Reki was unaware of his surroundings, he paid no attention to Cherry and Langa avidly staring at him, he let the background noise of Joe's restaurant wash over him lulling him into a state of focus. He tried not to think to much, just enjoying the environment and the positive results on his mental state. Reki was so focus he didn't realize he was chewing on his fingers at all again. It was a habit his mother crowed about him needing to break but nothing seemed to do the trick. Reki finally pulled away from his fingers and studies when he tasted blood and Langa laced his fingers with his.

"Hey, maybe you should take a break. You've been working for a while and I think we need to talk about your nail biting." Langa said.

"I wouldn't mind a break. I am not really hungry though, I think I will just have some tea for now." Reki answered absentmindedly. He was finishing up the section he had been working on. Cherry and Langa shared a look.

"Reki, when was the last time you ate? You really should have something. It is getting late." Cherry tried to push the red-head. Reki paid him no mind, already swallowed into his studies again. He was adamant he was going to finish his assignments, all of them that he could. Reki pulled off his headband and began scratching lightly at his scalp, running his fingers through his hair, tugging lightly when he was thinking.

"Reki, did you eat lunch today?" Langa asked. Reki blinked and refocused on Langa. Langa could tell that the recent conversation had gone in one ear and out the other. "Reki, look at me. Focus on me for just a moment." Langa waited until he saw Reki's distant gaze blink back into awareness. "Reki, did you eat today at lunch?"

"Did I eat today at lunch?" Reki parroted. Langa nodded. "Yeah, I had chicken curry and a Caprese salad." Reki answered firmly.

"Reki that was your lunch yesterday. I remember because I ate all the mozzarella bites and you yelled at me cause that was your favorite part. What did you eat today? I had to go speak to Hirikawa-Sensei at lunch today. I told you to go to the roof and eat, I would catch up." Langa said. Reki frowned in thought.

"I remember that, then I got distracted by a text Miya sent me and then it reminded me of something I wanted to look at for a gift for him...."Reki trailed off. "I don't think I ate today at all. I missed breakfast cause I over slept." Reki nodded once, pleased to be able to give a truthful answer. When no one responded his shrugged and went back to work.

"Oh, hell no. I know that when you get in the groove, you tend to stay there for too long but Reki you missed three meals today and now all you want is tea?" Cherry was slightly heated.

"Yeah, it makes the most sense. I need the caffeine to help me focus and it is an appetite suppressant and the water will keep me full and the tea will be good on my stomach. If I eat now, then I will be nauseous later. Days like this happen enough that I know what I am doing." Reki said. He only shrugged in answer to Langa and Cherry's incredulous looks. "Please leave it alone, sometimes, I don't like to eat. It can be tiring, a lot leads up to having a meal and sometimes that is too much. I take what I can get when I can get it. Now, let me finish my science homework." Reki waved off their concern just as Joe changed out the tea pots, with a smile.

"You doing okay over here kid? Need anything?" Joe asked but eyed all three of them. they all shook their heads, Reki gleefully fixing a large mug of tea how he liked it and drinking it quickly before making another one and sipping it. He kept the spoon in the mug, sliding it through the tea first up then down then left then right making a small ting each time. The motion and the noise seemed to soothe nerves that Cherry and Langa both missed up to that point. As Reki faded back into his studies, abandoning the tea but not the stirring motion, Cherry and Langa began having a whispered conversation.

"I think we should have a tutoring session, and I think Joe should lead this one. We need to figure out how and what we can do to help Reki. We seem to just stress him out when we get caught up in out neurotypical behaviors. I was thinking Saturday? I can ask Miya to distract him with skating for a while, or maybe help him make a new board? I think Reki has a commission from someone who comes to Dope Sketch." Langa requested. His concern was clearly on his face, eyebrows drawn together and a lip tucked between his teeth.

"I agree. I can order some books and resources online so we can have reputable sources. and Miya would love to help, he has been nagging me about it since the discussion at the skate park." Cherry responded.

Langa waved down Joe frantically, almost hitting Reki in the head. Joe came over, an eyebrow raised in question. "What can I do for you?" He asked a little too loud. Langa quickly hushed him, shooting a fruitive glance at a still studying Reki.

"Will you come and help us research ways to help Reki? I know we talked about it before but now I really want to look into it. This is affecting his everyday life, his is hurting himself unintentionally and even skipping meals. I don't want to push too had but I think we need to look at ways of helping him cope with what is going on." Langa asked.

"Of course. I don't know how much I can help, I have to say that my medication helped a lot and because of that my symptoms aren't as noticeable most of the time even if I miss a dose. I have spent many years forming the habits that help me get through the day, skating and the intensity of the kitchen help with that too. Where do you want to meet at?" Joe asked.

"We can meet at my studio, it is spacious enough and then we can keep our work there. I really think this will be good for him and for us." Cherry said. "I had no idea that some of the quirks you and Reki exhibit were signs of something else. It must be tiring to try to keep up with people who don't understand or even yourselves." Cherry continued.

That moment Reki raised his head, stretching his arms over his head and groaning deeply. Langa looked at the long lines of his torso-staring until a elbow jabbed his ribs. "I think that is all I can do today. I got a lot done though, caught up in a lot of class work. I may be a more permanent resident to this stool Joe. I think it is about time we head out. My mom probably texted me a dozen times wondering where I am. I should let Nanako know where you are too." Reki pulled out his phone to text both their moms, not seeing the looks Joe and Cherry sent Langa's way.

"I forget. I can't help it. And my mom loves Reki, she'll say yes to anything he asks her." Langa tried to explain himself, Joe laughed and Cherry shook his head. Reki finished texting and packed up hi things, a light aura of pride coming from him.

"I did it. I can turn in this week's assignments. I got all my work done. Thank you Langa, Cherry, Joe, for all you help. We need to get going." Reki hopped down from the stool and wobbled slightly. He swallowed once, twice. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, obviously considering something. "Is this hunger? Am I thirsty? Eh, maybe just a good night's rest will do me in." Reki thought aloud. He shrugged his bag on, waiting patiently for Langa to get down, unaware of what he just said. He curled his fingers inward rubbing his nails against each other making a light ticking noise, rocking heel to toe.

Langa looked towards Joe's ceiling, seeming to pray for patience. 'This idiot, my god. He would be dead without someone to take care of him. How has he survived this long?'"I'm coming Reki. We can go home. Am I staying over tonight?" Langa asked.

"If you want yeah. You should call your mom though. She probably would like to hear from her only son." Reki teased as Langa gathered his things.

"Hey, Reki! Here, this is for you. Drink it on your way home, okay?" Joe handed Reki a large to-go cup. "Kaoru likes smoothies at the end of the night sometimes so I made a little extra for you. I know that sometimes food is just too much but you need something in you. Don't worry it tastes fine and only has a little bit of the healthy stuff in it. Promise." Reki took the cup beaming at Joe.

"Thank you. I know that I don't make sense, and some of the things I do make me a burden but I can't help it. So thank you for understanding." Reki bowed and hurried out the door, embarrassed. Langa hurried after him, calling a farewell over his shoulder.

Joe watched them skate away, a small smile on his face. 'He'll be fine. He has a whole family looking out for him.' Joe went back to Kaoru who was impatiently waiting for his nightly glass of wine, no smoothie in sight.

#sk8 the infinity #Renga #reki kyan x langa hasegawa #adhd!reki #Domestic Sk8 Family #Sk8 found family

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 4 years

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Sensual Soliloquies

A/N: This is the first time in a couple years that I’ve attempted writing any type of fanfiction, let alone smut. This is going to be extremely detailed as well, so try not to cream yourselves too early. I give the credit for the Klaus traveling in time shit to @badsext because of her Klaus x Nathan fic. Go read it, it’s quite lovely.

Warnings: smoking, detailed sexual actions, probably some cussing here or there, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you back it up), and threesome I guess if that counts

“Klaus, where the fuck are we?” you ask him, confused to no end.

“Um, Berlin, Germany. Some time in the far future, and the apocalypse of 2019 either happened and didn’t fuck anything up, or just didn’t happen.”

Klaus touched another fucking suitcase (he told you about the previous time, and the previous heartbreak) and somehow ended up transporting the both of you to Berlin. Everything around you is very neon, and drone-like machines fly by, carrying what seem to be food boxes. You two landed in an alleyway of what seemed to be a bigger building. There was an old fashioned looking car, and a concrete overhang type place. The “Only Employee” door gave off the vibe that you weren’t supposed to be there. Well, to be frank, you weren’t even supposed to be in that year.

“This place might be a strip club or a hooker joint.” Klaus points out, closing his eyes, deeply sighing.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, curious as to where he got that outlandish idea from. (Honestly it’s not the most outward idea he’s come up with since you’d met him.)

He points to the window, where there seemed to be a naked robot with exaggerated female features dancing on a pole. Through the window, there’s also people, presumably strippers, dancing on tables, shaking ass, getting handed money. It turns you on just a bit, because something about cellulite being pushed against tight clothing got you going. That thought process, however, got pushed aside when a person walked through the employee door, outside. They were alone. The person looked somewhat like Klaus for some odd reason, mostly in the face region. Blonde hair swooped into a low-grade emo fringe, what looked like plastic covered their forehead, a kimono with tassels, and a deconstructed suit vest with tight pants.

“Oh fuck, hide.” Klaus whispered as quiet as possible, prompting the both of you to dive behind the old car.

“The suitcase!” you thought, about to reach out to get it, but the person was already swaying their way towards you two. They, however, didn’t seem to notice you two, as they lit what looked to be a cigarette, and took a deep inhale.

The position that you find yourselves in proves to be quite compromising. Literally and figuratively. You were pushed up against Klaus’ groin area, as you couldn’t be choosers when about to be possible prosecuted. He groans lightly, trying to adjust you off of him, but that proves to be quite stupid as the person stops mid drag and calls out.

“Who’s there?” You have half of a mind to answer, but Klaus was just a tad drunk so he squeaked lightly.

“What the fuck?” they yell, looking to the source of the sound, only to find you and Klaus huddled together behind the car. The person seemed to have a slight accent, German, you suspect, and a higher pitch to their voice. Although that might be due to the fact that they were scared out of their fucking mind to find two people, one who looked like them behind a goddamn car.

The two of you come out from behind the car, like two children caught trying to steal candy. Klaus tries to put his hands in front of his crotch, as his bulge hadn’t faded yet. You were already willing to formulate the truth instead of a lie, it was Germany for fucks sake, and you didn’t know if they went back to the old ways.

“Please explain to me who the fuck you two are, why the fuck you’re hiding behind a car that isn’t yours, and why you have your hands in front of your pants, hon?” he says, nodding his cigarette over to Klaus, who blushes at those words.

“We-” Klaus starts, but he was drunk, and you didn’t want to cause any confusion.

“We come from the past, and the suitcase you saw on the ground is how we got here. It allows you to go to a specific place and time, typically to kill another person. Klaus, here, um, grabbed one in his stupor and here we are, in front of you. Might I ask, what year is it?” you said in one breath, about to be prepared to start running if this person had a hidden glock.

“It’s 2037 love. For starters, my name is Luba, I work at this strip joint here and as an escort, uh. Sorry, I’m just a little baffled, understandably. You know what, my shift ends in like 5 minutes, and my boss won’t mind if I leave early. How about I order some food for all of us because I can’t cook for shit, and we’ll talk over at my place. It doesn’t seem like you two planned anything ,so I’ll care for you two ‘til then.” he offers, looking at us with curiosity.

“That sounds good, but before that, could I please get a drag of that, might as well cross-fade in fucking Berlin. Maybe we’ll get Amsterdam next time.” Klaus asks, looking for approval.

Luba obliges, and the two of them make shared eye contact, and hand contact, which ends up being lingering. Oh, the thoughts running through your head at that moment in time. Naughty, very naughty indeed. You just meet Luba though, and he might not even be into chicks. He goes back inside, and tells the two of you to meet him up front, and you travel there, and he shows up exactly when the two of you were about to dip out.

“Come on, my place is just a walk from here, it shouldn’t tire the two of you out too much.” he says, starting to walk in a direction. You two follow him, hungry, cold, and of course horny.

The moment you two arrive at Luba’s apartment, the feeling of hippy isn’t uncommon. There were tapestries on the walls, and potted plants decorated the shelves. There was even an old fashioned bong sitting on the table, and it looked clean for the most part. It seemed like a very cozy place, and the serenity was only bound to end. The two of you lurked around very lightly, taking in the fact that the Nazis didn’t find you. Luba presumably went to his room to set his kimono and keys down, then he came in, only to find you and Klaus wandering around his living room, trying to figure out the vintage things from the modern ones.

“Hey, um, what do you too want for dinner? We can talk over it, and it doesn't take too long to order since everything is air-delivered,” he said, in which Klaus mumbled whatever’s fine, and you nodded along. “Chinese it is,”Luba says, typing into a little machine, and opening his living room window for the bot to come through.

The food couldn’t come soon enough because Klaus started to sweat and get the shakes, a clear symptom of his withdrawals. They’d been getting a little better, but ever since the cult fucked him over, he’d been drinking again. Plus, the 60’s were like the haven for every drug in existence. Klaus wanted to make sure he got the freshest Mary Jane whenever possible. You, on the other hand, tended to stay away from drugs, only drinking every now and then, and smoking weed only when you felt like it. It wasn’t a constant feeling, but sometimes it was stronger than others. All three of you made your ways to the kitchen, and looked out of the window until the bot announced itself, and dropped the food off on the coffee table with the bong on it.

“Thank god! Food’s here. Limes and cherries from cocktails only go so far y’know. And those peanuts, ugh, they’re stale and taste like sweat.” Luba says, ripping the box open on the kitchen island. The box contained what looked like non-cardboard containers filled with soup dumplings, lo mein noodles, a very small order of broccoli, crab rangoon, and a fuck garlic chicken. Luba pulled out a bottle of wine and some water in glasses.

The lot of you dug in quickly, as you and Klaus hadn’t eaten in a good 8 hours, and Luba had only eaten a small breakfast that morning. Between bites, you and Klaus explained how you two got in Germany, and your lives before that. He mentioned the Umbrella Academy and his siblings, even mentioning their powers. He was truly comfortable around Luba, he didn’t even mention his siblings when he first met you. They both even mentioned the fact that they look very similar, even though they’re years apart. The meal was stretching to a close, but Luba asked a very compromising question.

“What about the two of you, huh? I’ve been trying to figure out, with the small amount of time that I’ve known you two. Are you two friends or fuck buddies, hmm?” he asks, a sly smirk on his face as he sultrily wipes his mouth, and sets his napkin on his plate, steepling his hands under his chin. These words caused a blush to dust across the both of your cheeks, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Klaus adjusting his bulge as well as he could.

“We’re lovers, but started off as friends.” you answered, leaning forward, letting your cleavage become slightly visible. Sticking your ass out just enough to get Klaus riled up from beside you.

Luba nods in acknowledgement, then also adjusts himself from what you can see. You all put your plates away, making quick work of rinsing them, then placing them in the deep sink. Luba moves to the living room, sitting on his couch and spreading his legs just enough to make his bulge visible in those oh-so tight pants. You both sit on the side of him, trying to edge those naughty thoughts from your heads.

“So, are we gonna fuck or what?” Luba asks casually, looking between the two of you, glancing at your lips and Klaus’ little problem.

“Yeah, why not. When in Berlin, I guess.” you say, leaning across to catch Luba’s lips with your own, catching his braided hair with your hand. His lips are surprisingly soft, and his tongue fights for dominance with your own, slowly becoming more of a stalemate, settling for pleasure.

You move into Luba’s lap, softly grinding against him to take the edge off of the simmering pleasure in your lower abdomen. Klaus turns the two of you lightly, only so he could catch Luba’s neck, gently kissing and nibbling it, leaving red marks in his wake. He licks the prominent carotid vein in his neck, biting it to draw a high moan out of Luba, causing him to draw away from the kiss to dust your neck with kisses, stopping at your collarbone to bite there, and to continue to grind against you, and Klaus pushes up against the blonde haired individual, trying to rub his dick slowly against the rough material of Luba’s vest.

“We should move somewhere more….accomodating for three people, some would say.” Klaus says, breathing lightly on Luba’s neck, licking along the length of his earlobe. You shudder at the ending of your session, but oblige, knowing that Klaus could get a little squirmy when he was being pleasured substantially.

The bedroom is somewhat different from the couch..or should I say love seat. You sit on the bed making out with Luba, but Klaus is sitting on the edge of the bed, sneaking a hand behind his navy blue bell bottoms, and slowly rubbing himself to get that constant source of endorphins moving. You moan lightly at the sensation of Luba rubbing himself against you, giving you just the lightest of clitoral stimulation. Wet smacks fill the air as you move down Luba’s form, biting at his smooth chest, and he moans beautifully next to your ear, giving it a nice bite to punctuate his gyrations against your pelvis. He pulls away from you just long enough to catch Klaus about to cum, only to stop him in his tracks.

“Don’t you fucking dare, I haven’t even sucked you off yet.” Luba says, making his way over to him.

Klaus sheepishly stands up with his prominent boner not being even close to hidden in those pants of his. You take your pants off on the bed, along with your shirt, and slip a hand into your panties, getting ready to enjoy what was about to be placed in front of you. Luba lands a kiss on Klaus’ lips, gropes his ass once, then kisses the loathed bulge put before him. He pulls Klaus' pants down, just so he can see his project, then gets to work. Luba takes Klaus’ cock entirely, balls in all and moans around the length, Klaus replying in earnest. He pops off of Klaus’ balls, focusing on the head of his dick. He gives little kitten licks to the tip, making prolonged eye contact with Klaus. He takes him inch by inch, savoring every little bit of his dick that he could get his plump lips on. You also saw Luba’s tongue making work of the vein showing on the underside of Klaus’ dick.

Luba reached his hands around and groped Klaus’ ass, kneading it between his hands, paying special attention to it. All while looking at Klaus with the biggest, brightest doe eyes the world did see. His emerald pierced the identical ones Klaus owned, sending him into a fit of moans and whimpers. He starts bobbing his head around the length, hollowing his cheeks to get that perfect feeling Klaus wanted deeply. He pulled off with a delicious pop , Klaus giving one last perfect moan from his lips. You’d been touching yourself heavily, not yet letting the slick fingers fully penetrate your hole. Just barely getting there. Luba strips himself clean, leaving his dick standing proudly against his flat stomach, small beads of precum falling from the tip, slowly making their way down to the base of his dick. Klaus also strips himself, moving over to where you were sitting on the bed, catching your lips between his own, then making quick work of your bra and panties.

He catches each nipple between his mouth, suckling lightly on the buds. Luba also joins in on the fun, and starts slowly fingering Klaus’ asshole, drawing a low moan out of his busy lips. Klaus draws himself away from you, just long enough to also draw Luba away, who drags you on top of him. Klaus takes his spot behind you, jacking himself off lightly. You don’t know where this is heading, but it looks like it’s about to be beautifully seductive and erotic. Apparently condoms didn’t exist in the future, but that was the least of your worries. Luba sat patiently, waiting for you to slip onto his cock, hands ready to catch you if you fall.

You slowly climbed onto Luba’s cock, stretching yourself deliciously, drawing a surprisingly strong moan from yourself. Luba’s dick is just about the same as Klaus’. It’s thicker than it is long, and light stubble covers his pelvic area. It’s not much pain, but lots of pleasure for you. Luba closed his eyes in pleasure, and lets out a loud grunt, putting his hands on your hips, grasping onto you. You slowly start to move on his length, moving up and down very slowly, then very quickly, as you’re used to Klaus being rough with you, and that’s what you took best.

And apparently so does Luba.

He moans and yells underneath you, moving his hips up to meet yours at every interval you move. Your breasts bounce wonderfully to each movement, and whenever Luba opens his eyes, it’s all he can see. Every now and then, his eyes go to Klaus, who attacks your neck and jerks himself off to your pace with his near lookalike. As well as that, Luba likes to look at where your pussy and his dick meet, being the source of this delicious pleasure. Things start to get a little calm, but Klaus gets a very, very naughty idea. He leans into your ear and fucking dirty talks you while you’re riding Luba into the goddamned sunset.

“Fuck yeah, you like riding that cock huh? Oh, such a dirty fucking girl, getting me all riled up. Yeah, clench that sweet pussy of yours around his fucking cock. Feeling it reach deep into your fucking love tunnel, banging up against your womb. Such a fucking slut. You know you want that cum painting your insides.” he says into your ear, humping a pillow from Luba’s bed. He moans in deep pleasure, grunting and whimpering at the noises you make. Klaus reaches forward to grope your tits, harshly squeezing them so that you can feel each finger rubbing against that skin.

Luba hears what’s going on, and it only brings him closer to his own orgasm. He moans louder now, confident in his ability to pleasure you. Him speeding up his own thrusts makes you clench your wet pussy around him, squeezing with all the might in your being. Klaus also speeds up his humping, and his words get dirtier and hornier.

“Yeah, make him cum hard, just like you milk me whenever you can. He’ll be saying your name like a mantra when you’re done with him. Oh, good girl, riding him like a fucking champ. Don;t you feel him getting closer and closer while his dick gets harder, yeah? Want him to pump your fucking womb full of cum, yeah? Make you want more.” he says, reaching his own peak, moaning sensually in your ear as he releases onto his stomach and your back.

That action may have given you the best orgasm in the history of your sex life.

You moan loudly and clench the hardest you’ve ever done so, sparking you to squirt messily all over Luba’s stomach. He cums after you, pumping you full of his cum. He covered his face when he came, and he moaned into oblivion. The three of you slowly recover from your orgasms, very slowly. Luba went to go fetch a wet washcloth, but not after kissing the both of you on the lips. You recover the slowest, and Klaus rubs your back as the aftershocks start rolling in. Luba cleans you up, and places his pillowcase in the wash. He also changes his sheets, but not after handing you a morning after pill, because in the early conversation over dinner that seemed so far away, you mentioned that you’d wanted kids much later in life.

You three sleep soundly, cuddled up against each other for warmth. You feel like you’re on Cloud 9 with that day and it’d only go downhill from there.

Masterlist

#klaus hargreeves imagin #klaus hargreeves smut #luba #smut

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carbrakes-and-stakes · 4 years

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Soup in Genovia | Jared & Alain

TIMING: A week ago LOCATION: Alain’s home PARTIES: @carbrakes-and-stakes and @themidnightfarmer SUMMARY: No palates were harmed in the making of this chatzy.

Backpack on and a smile on his face Jared made his way right to the door and raised his hand to knock. He had soup - or rather his attempt at soup-, a DVD of the princess diaries (just in case), and a winning attitude. He hoped for the best at least, they’d only spoken a couple of times but the nymph had hopes that he could win a new friend in Alain. The man seemed like he could be a laugh when he wanted to be, and someone with a little logic never went amiss when you felt you had very little yourself. Jared was even willing to look past the karkanoid eating, a one time event, clearly the man was simply a food enthusiast after all. Above all these thoughts however lingered the knowledge that no matter if Alain wanted a friend in Jared, he had suggested he wanted some company while he recovered from losing his leg. And who was he to deny the man that?

There was enough energy in Jared's attitude to fuel power plants from a small country for a few months. At least, this was Alain's first thought when he opened the door and glanced at his visitor. If he wasn't really counting on Jared, it was because they got their heads on a karkanoid that Alain might or might not have killed. Jared suspected that Alain had eaten it, and Alain, while he was disgusted by the thought of ever eating something that must have had the most elastic and rubbery flesh, was not about to contradict him about this. Walking toward the kitchen, Alain who was still struggling with his new leg, was helping himself with a cane, and while that instantly gave him the look of a lame old man, this was better than what would have happened without this kind of support. His eyes went to what Jared carried with him, and the man wondered what it was that he had brought over. It did not smell like much, but the French man had enough spices and aromatics around to turn it around. “What did you cook?” He asked, looking forward to it.

Jared followed Alain, being very careful to not seem like he was snooping too much as they went. He was a bit of a nosy guy, so it was taking a ton of willpower not to glance at every door they passed or squint at every picture. Distraction came at last and Jared beamed shrugging off his backpack. “Soup bud! I figured people always make soup in the movies when someone is recovering from something, so soup was the top choice. Never made soup before but I heard it wasn’t too hard?” Jared produced the container of liquid and pushed it towards Alain. Inside was a pretty grim sight, uncoloured water with partially uncooked and hastily chopped vegetables floating inside. “It smells okay right?” The nymph asked the other curiously. To Jared it smelt just how most of his cooking smelt…. Not like anything from the store but not overly terrible.

Alain’s eyebrows raised. Sure, soup did not smell like much in the first place, but this smelled an awful lot like the kind they served at the hospital, which was a shame as he assumed the vegetables came from Jared’s farm. “That’s a broth,” he observed, reaching over his head for the cupboards. Pulling a cast iron casserole out, he picked up the soup and poured it in there, searching around for the hand blender. Perks of moving somewhere knew : not knowing where a damn thing had been put. “It does smell okay, but I think we might be able to do better,” it did not seem seasoned and Alain knew that he’d rather lose his second leg than be forced to eat something that had no flavor. Or perhaps was this an exaggeration. “Wait, you’ve never made soup?” He did not say those words with any trace of judgement. Instead he was genuinely surprised, as well as touched, that Jared had been so thoughtful to try something new to make him feel better. Moved by this revelation, the hunter fell quiet, although his tight lipped smile revealed that he was pleased by the kind gesture. “Alright, let’s take this soup to the next level then. Let me show you,” first they’d have to turn broth into soup. Then, well, depending on what Jared had put in there, perhaps something could be done to save it. Alain grabbed a spoon to have a taste and gave him a shrug. “It’s not too bad, although it doesn’t taste like much,” handing the spoon over, he smiled. A bit of cumin, perhaps some carvi, a touch of butter and tabasco, and this soup would gain a lot more flavor, he thought to himself. “What do you think we should add?”

“A broth isn’t soup?! Jared wondered curiously. The nymph spent such little focus on feeding himself that all his meals blended together, he usually had much more important meals to be served to his kids after all. False blue eyes followed Alain as he moved around the kitchen to seemingly cook the soup again, for a reason that completely escaped Jared. “It still needs cooked? I thought I’d done okay?” He wasn’t overly upset to know that he hadn’t done a great job, he was told an awful lot that he tended not to make anything very good. “See this is why I stick to tinned food, it’s all there in the tin no messing around.” Jared leaned on the counter and smiled “Nah, never had the motivation to really try before. But soup is a movie staple, I had to give it a go!” Taking the offered spoon Jared dipped it into the pot and tasted it for himself. He had to admit it was a little bland. “Probably some of that powder garlic that I’ve seen people put in everything? But I don’t know, I don’t know a ton about cooking and all that… “

“No. Otherwise a sauce could be called soup by some too,” Alain was concerned as to how the young farmer was eating, especially since he seemed to be living on his own. Perhaps Alain would show him a few more things later on, but for now Cooking 101 would do. “It’s cooked, but… well you’ll understand when you taste it,” he leaned against the counter to give his leg some rest and smiled back. “And I commend you for trying. That’s more than some people do,” he patted the man’s arm and nodded at his suggestion. “Or, you know, we could use some proper garlic instead,” Alain didn’t have something against the powdered kind, but it did not replace the actual condiment. Reaching in a jar for cloves, he peeled a couple and pushed them toward Jared so he could crush them in a mortar. Rather than cumin, he opted for a bit of curry paste, mixing it in. “Alright, add the garlic and then we should be good to go,” the point was showing Jared that sometimes all it took was seasoning. Alain thought then, of what Alcher had told him in that waiting room, and let his guard down, “thank you, for being here,” he looked away and added, “it means a lot.”

“I’d happily call sauce a soup.” Jared laughed a little at the idea. “God people would hate that wouldn’t they?” It made his little fae heart flutter, he hadn’t yet fully embraced how much fae thrive on chaos of some kind, but he could relish in the small bits and pieces every now and then. “I mean I won’t lie bud, I usually eat tinned beans or pie or whatever, but it seemed like the moment to try harder than tinned soup.” Proper garlic just made Jared think of the entire thing like some sort of vampire movie, it didn’t seem too appetizing until Alain had peeled and crushed it in front of him. It made a LOT more sense in pieces he could admit. Smelling the soup as it progressed with so little added had Jared understanding that he definitely needed to be trying harder, but that’d come in time he hoped. “Oh hey don’t worry about it bud,” he wanted to add something like I like to be helpful, or You sounded like you needed the company but he wasn’t sure the reception that would have so instead he straightened up and leaned over to point at the soup. “So it’s edible now yeah? Got bowls around or you wanna save it for laters?” The nymph smiling warmly back at Alain.

“Jared…” The hunter looked at him then shook his head. He looked like he didn't really know whether he should be amused or bewildered, but, when in doubt, he preferred to be amused. “I think people would hate that very much, yes,” he admitted with a bit of laughter. He shook his head again, and you could see the amusement in his features: a rare smile, which made him close his eyes almost entirely. Jared must have been one of the most caring people the hunter knew. He reminded him a little of Nora, and it was with a twinge of heart that Alain wondered if he would eventually lose sight of Jared, if his new friend was to discover the true nature of his host.

“Tinned pie? Is that an actual thing?” Concern and disgust swept over him. With a scowl, Alain, apparently personally offended, could not restrain a gasp. “I’m glad you tried something new, that’s what’s most important here,” he felt a bit bad for having to tell Jared that his broth was far from edible as is. A viable option would have been to take everything out of the water and mash it together, but this was meant to be a soup, and Alain wanted to help Jared with that. “It was edible when you brought it, but edible is not the best you can get from these,” he pointed to the inside of the pot. “As you like. Didn’t you say you wanted to force me into watching a … movie,” the thing looked like it was targeted at teenagers and Alain had a bad feeling about it, but he had decided that he would not be grumpy with someone trying their best to help.

It was already cemented in Jareds mind. He wondered how much chaos he could elicit and how far he could go with it as well. Could pasta be a soup with enough sauce? Could alcohol be a soup? It would be from now on. The nymph grinned back at Alain, pleased that he’d managed to coax a laugh out of the man at least. “Tinned pie is a thing, it’s like a treat for the weekends sometimes if I can get it. Basically you use a can opener on the top and the entire thing just needs warmed up, the crust and all that are in there and it just has to rise on the top and it’s good to go!” Jared described it to Alain as if it was a magical event, which -despite the nymph knowing true magic first hand- felt like it sort of was.

Bringing up the movie was arguably a bad move on the hunters part, Jared was likely to be content and forget all about why he’d come had it not come up in conversation, however as soon as the words left Alains lips Jared had perked right up again and started to wiggle as if he were an excited puppy. He reached back into his backpack and pulled the DVD out and then also produced a VHS tape as well. “I didn’t know which you’d have, can never be sure in this place whether DVD players even work.” Jared laughed lightly before pushing them across the counter towards Alain. “We could soup and video at the same time maybe? I won’t be offended if the running commentary is criticism, I just do feel like it’s an essential watch even if you don’t like it!” The nymph looked at Alain expectantly for comment and first impression of the box covers.

The description of that pie that must have been summoned from a foreign inferno called capitalism brought a dramatic blink out of Alain. "What in the culinary hell is that? Cake mixes I can tolerate, but this sounds atrocious," the hunter told himself that he no longer just feared bugbears. He now feared bugbears and tinned pies. Shaking his head, he frowned once again and grimaced. What felt like magic to Jared felt like the 7th circle of Hell to the hunter.

He would have been offended about being treated like a dinosaur by Jared had it not been for the fact that he kept a VHS player somewhere, just in case. Of course Netflix was a thing, but there was something nostalgic about those grainy tapes. Still, he had not reinstalled it, and the thing sat in a box in the attic, between the hunting gear and the rock climbing equipment. The latter he knew that he would use in perhaps a couple years, but the former, he intended to keep upstairs. "We can have dinner and watch all at once, sure," although Alain intended to eat on the dinner table. Soup and couches sounded like a bad, perilous match. As much as he did not care much for danger, he knew what a pain it would be to clean that mess up. "Why don't you pick up the pot and bring it on the dinner table? I'll get some plates out," he picked a bottle of white wine as well, and headed there. Another trip to the kitchen later, and Alain was back with spoons and glasses. He kept his mouth shut about the box covers. The main character made him feel uneasy although he was unable to pinpoint why. "I cannot believe I agreed to watch something The Princess Diaries. Look what you make me do," his eyes grew bigger. Jared was too kind and innocent for the hunter to be annoyed at him, and Alain did have a soft spot for these sorts of personalities.

“It tastes good bud, you gotta trust the process.” It was very clear that they were on completely different levels with their food tastes, whilst Alain seemed to have a refined palate….Jared seemed to not have any taste at all. “And I’ve never tried box cake mix so I suppose I’ll leave that one for you to make the choice for us with.” he laughed at the expression on Alains face, it was good humoured, the nymph definitely had failed to notice how serious the other was about his disgust and was definitely not acting. In dopey indifference to Alains reaction to being asked about a VHS, instead the nymph was excited to see what the other would say about the movie as a whole, he was interested to see what Alain would criticise and what he’d stay silent on. Especially considering the man had already expressed his disgust with the concept. Accepting the offer to serve up at the table Jared lifted his soup with a bit of pride. He may not have been the one to make it enjoyable, but it was still his base ingredients so he was going to take what he could get. “Oh come on, surely a movie hasn’t made you spin into disbelief? Surely your friends have gotten you to watch weird stuff before.” Jared laughed. He set up the pot and looked around for where to put the movie on. It hadn’t even really considered the fact that the movie might be on netflix or some streaming site. He didn’t have anything like that at his home after all. “You’ve got to have one other movie under your belt that wasn’t what anyone would expect right?”

“They have. One of them forced me into watching this show about very rich highschoolers in New York who were stalked by a blogger,” Alain couldn’t remember the name of the show, but he remembered feeling little empathy for these people. He didn’t watch television for a good reason, but Alain felt like there was something nice about watching terrible tv with someone else, not because the show instantly became excellent, but rather for the opportunity to complain about how terrible it was. A dramatic blink welcomed the opening scene of the movie. He looked at Jared and deadpanned. “This looks great,” his shoulders shot up with amusement. Grabbing his spoon, he tasted the soup and glanced again at Jared. “Again, I’m repeating myself, but thanks for being here.” The former hunter looked around the room. The house still was foreign to him, and it didn’t help that he hadn’t unpacked most of the boxes there. Perhaps it was better that way. Ever since he had decided to quit his former life, he felt less and less anchored to this town.

The nymph paused a moment and then cottoned on “Oh gossip girl? It was gossip girl right? That’s full of rich people's nonsense.” Jared agreed with that at least. He’d attempted that show one afternoon of boredom, and was put right off by how lavish they were all acting. Seemed the farm boy couldn’t relate one bit. Completely in a different headspace than Alain, the blond was watching with rapt attention as the opening scene began. His attention only drew away when Alain addressed him. “Oh bud, wouldn’t dream of watching this with anyone else.” he joked lightly, finally lifting his own spoon to have some of the soup himself. “I have a pretty wild schedule on the farm, so I can always make some time if you’re wanting to hang out or watch shitty movies, or… well anything really.” Jared followed the hunters eyes and looked around the room also. “Unpacking party or whatever.” he tacked on the end helpfully.

“Yeah, that.” It was rich people's nonsense, although he did not recall his sisters ever acting so vainly. His eyes were drawn to the boxes that hadn’t been opened. Nostalgia hit him as he thought of his former house, where he had been spending a good bit of his life. There were things that you simply could not move around, and memories were included in that category. He never had liked keeping trinkets and knick knacks, but in times where he was feeling sentimental, he regretted it. Oh well, this would make moving abroad easier. He would not be able to take all his belongings with him overseas. “How kind of you,” he stood up to get bread from the kitchen, served himself another plate of soup and sighed as Jared offered help. “That won’t be necessary,” rather than to be unnecessarily mysterious, he gave him a tightlipped smile that wrinkled the corner of his eyes, and explained, “I intend to leave town for a little while. I’m moving abroad.”

Jared felt a small stab of loss when Alain explained his intention to move out of town. It seemed a lot of his new friends tended to not last so long in this place. But the Nymph smiled back nevertheless. It wasn’t up to him, and likely it was already all set up and sorted out. “That sounds exciting, where do you think you’ll be going or have you already got it all set up for yourself?” He asked politely, looking away from the boxes and intending on making the very most of this movie and dinner with his newfound and newly lost friend. Jared supposed a turnaround like this really stopped him from getting too attached, like he had with so many before the other man. “But hey shh shhh this is a good part.” He cut in with a small forced laugh trying to focus back in on the movie. He was going to make the most of this.

If he was left perplexed by the suggestion that one could leave to another place without a single bit of planning, he tried to shrug that off. Jared clearly was a lot more spontaneous than Alain had ever been. Always planning, always trying to have control. It was a shame, in the end, that he did not seem to have any control on his own life. Leaving town would give him the chance to finally do something with his life without a single thought going to his sense of duty. The code, the rules, the duty : a lot of words to describe not having the right to do as you please. Perhaps it was time to write his own rules, ones that he would be comfortable with or perhaps was it not too late to start over, and rather was it time to turn this heavy page of his life. He didn’t want to burn the whole book. There were good moments in the life that he was living. There was a lot of pain there too, for certain, and a good dose of tragedy here and there.

The man found himself brought back years back, back when he had had a chance to build a family. He heard Jared, and if he had a smile on his face while he looked at that crucial scene of the movie, his mind was somewhere else. Nostalgia had flown in like a peaceful summer breeze, and the fond memories felt like a warm embrace. It was true that he would miss this place very much, and Alain certainly regretted leaving all these people he cared for behind. He gave Jared a fond look. He hoped that he would be okay, and that the forever gargantuesque town of White Crest would not end up eating alive the poor innocent soul that he was. He didn’t have such worries for Erin, or Kaden, or even Jasmine. The three of them were tougher than stones, in their own ways. Stubbornness, bravery and determination. Perhaps was it why he instantly liked these people so much. Of all the things he was leaving behind, they had to be the toughest part. Finding people you could count on, and who could understand you might have been the hardest task for him. Sometimes he blamed it on being a hunter, one that did not stray away from duty (after all, it was this that had scared Evelyn away from him), sometimes he just figured that perhaps he was just not good at this. A mix of the two might have been the proper answer to that transparent mystery. It was easier to move on after being used to loss like he had been. After a certain age, you developed a certain craving for new adventures, and the fear of having wasted your time crept in. He would be alright, in very normal and very away from here Provence.

#wickedswriting #soup in genovia #para #chatzy #para jared

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jazminetoad · 3 years

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@fancyfeetsanji

Sanji finished the meal about an hour later and took five more minutes to work on presentation. It was like a signature and the best part of the preparations. His hands followed his eyes as he carefully placed each portion being mindful of each amount. The silly smile plastered across his face didn't leave until he whirled around almost finished the timer going off on the oven as if on que. His feet had already turned to step in the direction before the sound echoed out only because he mentally timed himself in his own world. A chef or cook always believed presentation to be their most creative moments and some could even be recognized by their style.

Once he laid the tray out with the condiments on the side in silver cups to keep them cool he was content still mentally counting to time himself. With a quick two step he pulled the wraps from the oven allowing her the option to choose which she preferred. Sanji had listened to her words and a hint of sadness lingered giving the cook a quick assumption.

⚜"Terrible childhood Hmm? It's a good thing we are not forced to reflect on the past instead we are forced to always keep moving towards the future. It would suck if things never changed I would assume."⚜

He of course, spoke from his own experiences but was certain it was relevant. His upbringing had made him the man he was today but that didn't change the fact that it at times hurt.

⚜"I do have good news though, while on this ship you can't help but laugh. Now, if you intend to eat with the hood on then I won't be able to see your face when you try the food."⚜

The blond prompted in his own way telling the woman to loosen up a bit. It was far too lively on board the sunny to carry such a burden. A soft chuckle left the cook and he reached above the counter to pull a decorated chart down. Sanji then leaned over the counter to slide it to her giving the woman her options in choice of drink.

The world of alcohol was like a hobby for him and he had even compiled his own list of drinks for fun. Every name on the chart he had made up but the problem was through all the creativity his alcohol did not last long. Like Luffy, his counterpart Zoro was known to often cast no cares to the selections or creativity. Instead he chose his drink based upon the smell and quality and often did not ask. Placing a lock on anything in prevention would be a lost cause and the cook had long since given up on any attempts to keep all his selections in stock.

Shoving his hands into his pockets he leaned back against the counter thankful to the fact that he cleaned as he went so tidying up wasn't too much of a chore. Sanji finished his cigarette quickly and returned to wiping down everything to close his kitchen. The blond carefully placed every utensil and pot back into its place locking the claps to keep them from falling as ship rocked. When finished, he turned to make his own drink in silence mixing a quick martini to sip.

⚜"When you are finished you are welcome to join me, Jazmine San. I intend to enjoy a good choice with a colorful sunset. Even though I have seen it many times it tends to push away my worries perhaps it will work for you too."⚜

Finally, the tacos were done. Jazmine started arranging them to how she likes it. The task was second nature to her by now. She could've cooked them herself to avoid the socialization but that would've been rude to the chef, she had respect for those who took time to cook meals. Not to mention there was just something about when others prepare the tacos that she didn't get when she did the meal herself, maybe she appreciated when she was served, or perhaps it felt like back then when she didn't have to worry about taking care of herself.

Hearing Sanji guessing her childhood was terrible made her internally turn sour. It wasn't her childhood that had been terrible, it had been everything that came afterwards. The people, her powers, her curse, fate, and worst of all, her separation from her brother. Even after everything she has seen, done, and been through, being taken from the only one who cares for her was still the worst thing in her mind, and she had encountered many things.

Glaring at the blond from behind the shadow on her face, a part of her wanted to remark back thanks to the cloak she restrained herself and took a deep breath letting it go. Sanji was just trying to make her feel better, even if it didn't. However, his words did say something, the ship they were on. It was true, the moment she came aboard there was something about the crew that made her feel at ease. That wasn't normal. There were a few close calls to Jazmine almost letting herself go, but each time she tugged the edges of her cloak making it go away.

Eyeing the blond, she gently pulled back the hood just enough so it stayed on her head but now her facial features were in the light. Pale, smooth skin and a dull lime coloured eye, however, her right side still hid behind her brown hair. A blank expression, she replied to Sanji.

『"My childhood is the only thing in my past that I have in my memory that I can call joy, the rest of my past is what is 'terrible'." Jazmine emphasized the last word since it was Sanji's word choice, though it was a word that put it lightly. "As for laughter, I will have to help it, I can't have fun."』

Jazmine looked down to the side once more, biting her tongue to keep her from elaborating. It's not like she hated it, but it didn't feel right when she did, not when her brother wasn't here.

Allowing Sanji to process what she told him, she grasps the chart that was in front of her. Gazing over the options, intrigued by his offer. Normally, Jazmine would've just ordered for ice tea and be done with it, and alcoholic beverages were something she hasn't tasted in a long time, for a reason. Though, one drink couldn't hurt, right?

『"Could you make a lemon ice tea mixed with tequila?" Jazmine politely asked, setting the chart down. "And if it's not too much, could you make it so I can take it with me outside? I'd rather enjoy my meal while gazing at the horizon, I find it peaceful... and it'd be nice to have some company."』

Jazmine did tend to prefer to eat while enjoying a view, usually forestry, it brought her peace of mind and made her think of the good times. She found it better than eating on the go. In a way, she was grateful for Sanji's invitation to go outside.

#fancyfeetsanji #sanji is a smart chef #cleaning as you go #also he sees half her face now #one piece rp

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twilightofthe · 4 years

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Mace Windu Appreciation Day: Family

Hi everyone! So I didn’t follow any of the specific prompts for Mace Day, but one thing people tend to get wrong about Mace is something that they tend to get wrong about the Jedi Order in general, that they don’t love and that they don’t have any concept of family. I decided to give a massive “to hell with that” and focused my piece on Mace and his family!

“This was not the way I was planning on having our first official line gathering once we were finally all together,” Depa told Caleb as she tapped gently at Mace’s knee, urging him to move it so she could balance the tea tray on his sheets-covered lap.

Mace obediently shifted his legs in bemusement, catching Caleb’s eye as he hovered worriedly in the background while clutching a tin of what Mace hoped were those cookies from that bakery a district over Depa had introduced him to and had cottoned on to him perhaps enjoying more than he’d admit.

Mace’s eyes met Caleb’s. The boy looked uncertain. Mace felt his mouth quirk and gave an over-exaggerated eyeroll at Depa’s fussing. Caleb’s eyes widened in shock and he nearly fumbled the tin. He caught it, luckily, or Mace might have had to explain away some frivolous Force usage to catch the maybe-cookies.

“I didn’t realize you had plans beyond our usual meet-up in someone’s quarters,” he said to Depa as she finally stepped back after arranging a warm teapot and various cups and pots across the tray, Mace and his bed now the makeshift table.

Depa gave him a fond shake of her head, stepping back to pull up two chairs for her and Caleb to sit. “I didn’t. I wasn’t the one who switched the location to the Halls of Healing.”

Mace allowed himself a huff, sitting back into the much too soft pillow the Halls provided. “This was hardly my idea, Depa.”

“Yes, well, you’re here now, and I’m not letting this place keep us from tradition any longer,” Depa replied matter-of-factly, Mace feeling a slight pang of regret at the remembrance of her long injury.

“Tradition?” Caleb blurted out, ducking his head slightly as both Masters turned to stare at him. “Sorry, Masters, I’m just curious. I thought we were just having tea.”

“Oh, we are,” Mace assured him, watching his new grandpadawan shift in his seat with both nervous energy prickling off him in the Force as well as the typical energy becoming of a healthy thirteen year old. It was hard for him to ever remember being that young himself. It was getting harder to remember Depa at that age too, he thought with another pang as his former apprentice smiled gently at her own. “Very important tea.”

Caleb looked confused again, and Depa snorted softly. “When I was a padawan, Master Windu and I would try to carve out time, once a week, to sit and have tea and discussion.”

“Discussion?” Caleb asked. Mace hoped he never lost his inquisitive edge.

“Oh, various things,” Depa mused. “My apprenticeship, what I was learning in classes, what odd fact Mace had come across this week, the goings about of politics and society.”

Mace hummed in agreement, nodding along. “Now, we could talk to each other whenever, but I find having a specific time to relax one’s mind and engage in conversation leads to a healthier bond and a more open mind overall.”

Caleb nodded earnestly; Mace could see the little cogs in his brain grinding to take all of this information in.

“Even after my Knighthood, we would try to always make time for our tea meetings at least once a month, twice if we were lucky,” Depa continued. “It’s become more challenging with the war and all, and my injury certainly put a decent-sized gap between get togethers.” Mace found himself fixed with another warm brown stare. “So when all of us are together in the same place, I’ll take the chance to introduce my Padawan into our own little tradition where I can get it, even if one of us has landed himself on bedrest.”

“Technically, I am fully recovered and back to duties,” Mace pointed out, waving an arm at the datapad full of responsibilities delivered by one of the Council droids upon his request as soon as he received the all-clear. “I’m just being kept here longer so my condition can be monitored. If one of you would be perhaps willing to help me get out of here...”

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you over the memory of you selling me out to the healers the last time I suggested getting out of medical earlier,” Depa murmured, taking the tin from Caleb and revealing the-- yes, the green nut cookies Mace had grown so fond of.

As Mace tried to hide his pleasure at the risk of Depa’s knowing smirk, he saw Caleb’s face again as he reached for a cookie. The boy seemed surprised at their banter, and Mace regretted that it had taken so long for the three of them to get together like this. It had been over a month and a half since Depa and Caleb’s pairing, and Mace had only seen Caleb once briefly since then.

Mace figured it was all the better to get Caleb comfortably into the fold as soon as possible. “Speaking of the wrath of the healers, I trust Caleb here knows to ah, perhaps not remember what exactly we’re enjoying here; I don’t think outside food, no matter how good it tastes, is welcome in.”

Caleb instantly rounded on his Master. “So you were having me smuggle it inside my robe when you told me the cookies were better warmer and with body heat!”

Mace couldn’t help a laugh at Depa’s unapologetically guilty expression as she nibbled on a cookie herself. “Perhaps,” she said, and Caleb giggled, bright and happy.

“All to preserve tradition, right Masters?” Caleb quipped, and Mace felt another laugh coming. The kid was sharp.

“Technically, the tradition only extends to tea-making,” Mace admitted. “Part of the first early get-togethers were lessons in how to make tea properly. It gives you an edge when Master Yoda eventually invites you around for tea.”

“Is he hard to impress?” Caleb asked, paling slightly.

Depa’s mouth quirked, reaching for the untouched teapot to serve herself. “I’ve had tea with him many times. I’d say my Master was a tougher critic than he was.”

“Oh!” Now Caleb was very pale, and he was leaning forward slightly to shoo Mace’s hands away from the teapot. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink that then, Master. I-- I made it, you see, Master Depa wanted me to try. I don’t know if it’s good enough yet for--”

“I’ve been on a steady diet of hospital food ever since I got here, Padawan,” Mace interrupted gently but firmly, swiftly plucking the teapot out of Caleb’s hands and pouring his own cup. “This will be a welcome reprieve, even if it’s beginner’s tea.”

“Mace!” Depa hissed at him as Caleb’s face made another grimace. Mace blinked back unrepentantly as he allowed himself the slightest dash of sourberry juice-- absolutely no sugar, he wasn’t a heathen.

Just because Caleb was a beginner didn’t mean he should pick up bad habits. Allowing himself a sip, he did take pity on the nervous Padawan as he offered him a smile and a raised brow. “Not bad.”

Caleb slumped in visible relief. “Do you think Master Yoda would like it?”

Mace reached for another cookie. “I wouldn’t get that excited.” He laughed in his throat as Depa swiped the cookie tin away from him in disapproval and focused on Caleb. “Master Yoda is very particular about how he takes his tea, and how others take it too. It is one of the few lessons of the culinary kind you should take from him.”

Now Depa was the one laughing in her throat while Caleb’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by that, Master Windu?”

Feeling amusement bubble up, Mace let Caleb in on a secretive smile. It was his right and civic duty to warn Caleb of this. So few of the Padawans and even some of the Knights made their ways through their apprenticeships-- himself included, unfortunately --without knowing the one key piece of information about the Grandmaster.

Mace called this payback from the time his ignorance had gotten him food poisoning.

“Master Yoda,” Mace began, “has a very specialized diet for his species. He can drink things like teas along with the rest of us, but his meals...”

...memories of himself and a group of other Padawans watching Yoda swallow a live frog on a field trip...

“Well, he eats different things than most sentients do, and when he tries to prepare food for others and offer it to them...”

Depa was full on hiding laughter behind her teacup now, and Caleb was watching him with a completely stunned expression, ever-questioning mouth hung open and silent for once.

Mace tok a delicate sip of not-quite-right tea. “It is best you have a strong stomach-- or at least a strong sabacc face. Now that I think of it, a Master that can teach you to cook so you know the difference between good and bad taste isn’t that bad a thing to have either.”

Stars, Mace had known a number of people either trained by or from a line trained by Yoda, and he could maybe name one from each line that actually could cook more than water.

“So... that’s another reason why tea lessons are so important?” Caleb guessed, and Mace smiled at him.

“Exactly.”

Depa sighed in fake distress. “Honestly. Caleb, if you’re caught badmouthing the Grandmaster this way, you know whose name to give when they ask where you heard it from.”

Mace waited for Caleb to duck his head in laughter and focus on mixing his own tea before Mace mouthed to Depa, But who would believe him.

Depa’s eyes lit up with playful warning. “Oh it is so good to see you again, my old Master. I do hope that nothing happens to you that you should have to stay in here longer.”

Mace had very much missed his old Padawan’s sense of humor.

He grinned challengingly, drinking his tea at her aggressively, only to pause at Caleb voicing another question. “How did you end up in here the first place, Master?”

He looked at Caleb in surprise, who promptly backpedaled just the slightest. “That is, if you wish to share. I just heard you had an accident with some pirates.”

Mace turned to Depa. “You didn’t tell him?”

Depa’s brows rose in a particular movement Mace knew would mean he was due for some explaining in the face of interrogation. “Frankly, I wasn’t sure if I read the incident report correctly. It seems to have configured itself with some of the wilder Temple rumors the mill has spouted.”

Mace offered her a sly smile, and Depa groaned. “Oh, you actually did. How even--” She grabbed at his hand and examined it, seeming to seek satisfaction Mace was truly there in front of her. Mace humored her and wiggled his fingers.

“Caleb,” he addressed his grandpadawan. “A word of advice: space without an atmospheric suit is very, very cold.”

Caleb’s eyes turned to two green moons. “You were in space without an atmo suit?”

Depa made an irritated noise as Mace responded, “Not purposely.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Caleb,” warned Depa.

Caleb shook his head rapidly, spilling a small splash of tea onto Mace’s blankets. “Oh, of course not. But Master Windu, how did you--”

“Survive that long?” Mace finished, flashing back to the icy, tight, pressurized weight squeezing in on his Force shields he had barely managed to throw up in time. “Well for starters--”

Depa made a warning noise in the back of his throat. Mace smiled innocently at her. Perhaps being the indulgent grandmaster was even more fun than he had thought. He scooted over on his hospital bed and gestured for Caleb to hop up and sit by his feet.

“To start with,” Mace began, with a conceding nod to Depa to settle her hackles. “I would recommend not finding oneself in a situation where pirates are threatening to space you in the first place...”

#hope y'all liked!#i've never written a mace pov before but i'll need to for mutual acquaintances anyway so this is good practice!#needs a damn raise #mace windu #macewinduappreciationday #star wars #sw fic #morai’s fic #i don't have a depa tag yet #space cowboy

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jadekitty777 · 4 years

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Baker’s Dozen, Part 2

Final day, final day, final day!

Day 8: Free Day @taiqrowweek

Rating: K

Words: 1,800

Summary: When a desperate escape from fans leaves Qrow seeking shelter in a nearby restaurant, he expects little of the rundown, failing business that offers him a table. One bite is all it takes to change his mind. [Actor and Chef AU]

Ao3 Link: Part 2

Mornings at the Qrow’s Nest were blissfully silent. With opening still hours away and the kitchen completely empty, Taiyang had all the time and space he needed to do the various prep work that would carry the lunch and dinner teams throughout the day. The things like soups, breads and desserts that needed a more delicate and mindful touch that would easily be lost under the hustle and bustle of the rush crowds.

It also gave him plenty of opportunity to experiment. He wasn’t used to the more trend-following patrons his new restaurant tended to draw in, but as head chef, it was his job to decide what went on the menu, while also finding new, exciting things to cycle in every season to stray from a stagnating selection. It was a challenge to imagine up different recipes rather than fall into his old, tried-and-true routines, but he’d never been one to quit when things got difficult and instead jumped headfirst into the work.

Thankfully, his business partner was a rather inspiring muse, with an entire filmography page to pull ideas from. Designing meals around whatever hotshot flick or program Qrow happened to be appearing in worked like a charm for both of them. There was less chance his creativity would tank and it drummed up excitement for the upcoming release.

This Fall would see the premiere of The Grimm Adventure, a dark and gritty fantasy-action flick. Though he wasn’t taking a leading role, Qrow still seemed positively beside himself for it to come out (Tai suspected it had something to do with the fact he got to run around for two-thirds of the film with a sword). From what he understood, the story took place in a dystopian world ruled by shadow creatures and followed the journey of a young maiden tasked with saving her dying world. Qrow would appear in it as her mentor, guiding her during her more difficult trials.

The low-lit sets seen in the trailers belayed a morose, almost gothic aesthetic, and had Tai leaning towards garnishes that matched, such as brisket and black-bean chili, forbidden rice and chicken stir fry, southern pork with a side of black-eyed peas and blackberry cobbler and black forest ham with leafy asparagus and roasted potatoes peppered with black garlic. He was most proud of that last one, as it was meant to match the fire-burnt thickets Qrow would save his apprentice from.

The menu was mostly complete and ready to be revealed. The only thing he had left to decide on was the final dessert.

So, Tai flipped on his old cassette player, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

Two hours later found him flourishing on the final touches to the cake he’d crafted while belting out the lyrics to whatever western-inspired ditty was managing to come out of the ancient machine.

“Country roooads, take me hooome, to the place I belooong. West Virginia, mountain llama. Oh take me home, country roads.”

No one was around to hear the lyrics he didn’t quite remember right.

So, of course that was the moment someone decided to walk through the door.

“Mountain llama?”

Tai jumped, completely butchering the strawberry he was trying to cut precisely in half. He swiveled around, greeted by the amused smile of his partner. “God’s almighty Qrow! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

He chuckled, holding up his hands in peaceful surrender. “Sorry ‘bout that. It’s just – llama??”

“Oh put a sock in it.” He turned off his player before reaching for another strawberry. As he chopped down, he said, “Surprised to see you here. I thought you were staying in New Zealand a few more days?”

“The reshoots went better than expected, so I caught an early flight.” Qrow explained. “Though I would kill for some coffee right now.”

“Pot’s on for the taking.”

The offer was graciously accepted, and soon enough the other man had a mug in his hand and a seat on the counter, watching as Tai shaped the strawberry halves into hearts. He took a sip of his coffee – black with barely enough cream to color – and asked, “What are you working on?”

Focused on getting the cut just right this time, his response was distracted. “Dessert, for you.”

“Ah, you shouldn’t have.” Like the thespian he was, Qrow absolutely played it up, putting a hand to his heart and fluttering his eyelashes like a lovestruck debutante.

“You know, they say the first sign of an actor’s career going south is when they start to overact.” He ‘tsk’ed pityingly. “And you were still so young too.”

“Hm, funny,” There was a clear smirk in Qrow’s voice, “Because the only way ‘south’ I intend to go is with you.”

Tai missed the next cut too. Ears burning red, he shot the other a look. The only response he was offered was one brow raised in challenge as he smugly drank his coffee.

As much as he wanted to give back as good as he was given, nothing decent would form in his mind. So, he just grumbled, “Snake”. He’d have felt defeated, if not for how nice on the ears Qrow’s chuckles were. “If you’re all done with your games, I’d appreciate it if you’d have a taste of this cake.”

“You sure you want my opinion on that? You know I’m not much of a dessert guy.”

“Don’t worry, I made sure to temper the sweetness for your tender palate.” He said as fetched the cake from the adjacent workstation’s display shelf. Beyond its stark black frosting, the two-layered cake did not look like much. The decoration was left simple, only a standard spiral design bordering the top and bottom edges. Even the addition of the strawberry slices in a simple ring on top only added a bare hint of color.

The trick was within.

As Tai sliced through the cake, it revealed the marble design inside. Made with a mixture of chocolate and red velvet, the two batters blended together in a swirl like pattern. The layers were neatly divided by a scarlet-bright raspberry filling, bringing all the dark colors and bright reds together. He might not be the most outstanding baker there was – that honor had gone to his late wife – but he still felt a sense of pride as he held out the slice to his partner.

Qrow whistled as he got a proper gander at it. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

“The truth is in the taste, not the view.” Tai handed him a fork next.

“Beg to differ.” He said, eyes never leaving him even as he dug in. “The view’s pretty nice from where I’m looking.”

The flush was back, spreading like a fever across his cheeks.

When they had first met, he had told Qrow he was no fool, unblinded by the trickery of the successful and silver-tongued. He’d like to maintain that eighteen months later, that was still the case. But the game Qrow was playing now was more devious than his first – and one Tai didn’t entirely mind losing.

He could not say quite when it started, all the flirting that grew bolder by the day and lewd comments that left him redder than a rose. At first, it had overwhelmed him; yet before long, he had found himself trying to return those notions. It had been quite some time since anyone had taken a fancy of him but settling down had not left him entirely rusty. Every time he managed to leave Qrow speechless or shy left a pleasant warmth in his belly, like a fire just starting to burn.

So yes, he absolutely knew where all this hemming and hawing was leading them. He just never fathomed in his wildest dreams he’d be heading there with someone like Qrow. On a surface level, he could never imagine they were even compatible.

Like the cake, the trick was on the inside.

As was typical for a man of his class, Qrow hid a lot to save face and that was what most saw. A successful, rich, socialite who barely had time to look down his nose at the common folk. Yet, Tai had learned the compassion he truly held. The gesture that saved his restaurant was only one act of many. He saw it again, when Qrow quietly requested if Tai would apprentice Lie Ren, the son of his driver who wished for a future in the kitchen. And again, in his visits to the children’s hospital to read them stories whenever he was in town. Once more with the various gift and food donations he’d make around the holidays so fewer homes had to go without.

That isn’t to say the man didn’t have his edges. He could be too caustic at times and if politics was even hinted at as a topic of conversation, Qrow’s voice was louder than anyone’s in just what he thought about their current president’s policies. He liked to drink, sometimes in excess, and when he was in a poor mood he either took to isolating himself or just sulked about like a teenager.

Yet for all his bad, the good still shined through. His smiles and laughter were treasures. He declined to live in excess, finding peace in the quietness of a quaint home. He was strict in never telling lies to those he trusted. He was brilliant, and funny, and hard-working. It was also a plus that Qrow was nicer to gaze upon than any fancy painting in the most prestigious museum.

There was so much Tai had grown to appreciate about the man behind the actor. With it, his feelings were starting to bud, close to blooming. He knew it was much the same for Qrow – though he knew not how precisely he viewed him, he at least could determine with confidence that it was a mutual romance beginning between them.

The real question was, which of them would be the one to make the final play on this game they’d started?

“Mmm, this is really good.” Qrow’s voice broke him from his thoughts, already halfway through the cake. “You’re right, it’s not too sweet.”

“And the berries add that tartness you like.” Tai added.

He chuckled, forking another piece. “You keeping track of my food preferences?”

That was, perhaps, the best hand he was ever gonna get dealt.

“A’course.” He lent his hip against the counter, “How else will I make your favorites when I invite you to dinner?”

Qrow froze, utensil halfway to his mouth as he stared beyond it and right at him. After a heated second of silence, he asked, “Is that a request for a date?”

Tai hid the shake of his hands by crossing his arms. “It is, if you’ll have me for one.”

“Believe me, I’d happily have you for dinner any day of the week.”

“Yeah?” A laugh mixed with embarrassment and pleasure left him. “How ‘bout Thursday then?”

Qrow smiled one of those treasured smiles and blushed one of those gut-warming blushes, and said, “Sounds just perfect.”

#taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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littlethingwithfeathers · 4 years

Text

Quarantine Cuisine: Soup Making 101

So here’s another installment that’s more technique than recipe (though don’t worry... there is a recipe at the end). Forgive me for going a little long with this one, but I feel like not enough people know how to look at their pantry contents and summon soup. So... here we go. Soup-making 101.

Here are the basic building blocks of soup:

Protein:

If you’re wanting soup that is an actual meal, you’ll need protein, and since it’s sort of the central component of your soup, it informs every decision trickling down. Cook time, flavor palate, additional ingredients. On and on and on... And the list of soup-worthy proteins is endless. In fact, it’s probably best to list what -doesn’t- make good soup. And generally, what doesn’t make good soup is anything that is best cooked on high heat for a short amount of time. So... lean steak, delicate fish... things of that sort. Here are your best choices in most categories...

Meat: anything tough like roasts, shoulders, shanks. And sausage... links or ground. And anything cured like bacon or ham. (watch your salt with those though). You basically want things that aren’t going to just boil away... things with some fat and connective tissue.

Chicken: Thighs. 100%. You can do breasts but it’s a pain because they dry out with long cooking. And they’re more expensive. Just do chicken thighs.

Seafood: shrimp or clams... tougher fish like swordfish. But unlike the proteins above, you don’t want to add them in until the very end.

Veg: any sort of bean or mushroom. Lentils... all that good stuff.

If you’re new to soup making, I recommend starting with something forgiving. Chicken thighs, bacon, ground beef or sausage, mushrooms, or chick peas... These things stand up to being souped and are pretty hard to overcook. That said, your meat choice will arbitrate your cooking time. Meat with lots of connective tissue needs a longer cooking time, whereas chicken thighs will only take about 20-30 minutes to cook through. Keep that in mind moving forward.

Broth:

Your broth choice depends largely on your previous decision... but you can sort of think of it like wine. Red wine is like darker heavier broths like beef... save it for the red meat. Chicken broth is like a dry sturdy white wine... good for chicken obvs but also veggies. Fish broth is really only good if you’re making a fish dish. And veggie broth... I really only ever use it for keeping a dish vegetarian... it’s good but the flavor isn’t super strong. My go-to is chicken broth for most everything except heavy beef stew. And even then it would work in a pinch.

There are other liquids to consider as well. Wine... vinegars... acids... juice... coconut milk... but we don’t want to really settle those until we decide the following.

Fat: All soups need a little fat. It can come from your protein if you’re using meat... or you can go with oil or butter. Keep it fairly neutral.

Aromatics and spices: Herbs, spices, and things like onion, lemongrass, garlic, or ginger. This is where you decide your flavor palate. And don’t worry... it’s not complicated. I tend to choose my flavors based on geographical location. Here... watch.

French soup: onion/shallot, celery, carrots, tarragon, parsley, lemon, thyme, rosemary.

Italian soup: onion, celery, carrots, a shitload of garlic, oregano, basil (fresh or dried).

Thai: onion, ginger, garlic, chili paste, lemongrass, Thai basil

Indian: red onion, garlic, ginger, garam masala, curry powders, turmeric

Central American: lime, garlic, cilantro, onion, cumin

Or if you really want an advanced course in flavor matching, check out this book:

The Flavor Bible by Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg.

You can search by ingredient and see what goes with it. Magic! It’s probably the most well used cook book on my shelf and it’s not even a cook book!

Veg: Again... go with things that are forgiving when it comes to cooking time: Mushrooms, carrots, celery, bell peppers, sturdy beans, frozen corn. But that being said, you can add things in stages. Simmer your meat and onions and carrots for awhile... add more sensitive things like potatoes in a little later. Then when everything is almost done, toss in your spinach or fresh peas and such like that to just cook through at the end. Carbohydrate: Honestly... pick your poison. Potatoes, rice, barley, pasta... go nuts. Just pay attention to the cooking time and be careful not to overcook.

***

So, with those base ingredient categories in mind, we’re just going to think like we did with the scrappy pasta from last week. You want certain flavor roles filled: Salty, sweet, fat, acid, umami.

Salty: salt. Just... straight up. You don’t always have to have something filling in... but other things to think about that might help in that department are sausage, bacon, soy sauce, grated cheese. And bear in mind... if you’re using a lot of starch like with beans, pasta, or potatoes, keep tasting as you work along to make sure you use enough salt.

Sweet: Okay we’re not talking sugar... but think about things that have a sweet component to them. Carrots, sweet peas, sweet corn... it isn’t a must have but it helps keep a dish from falling too flat.

Fat: This can come from the meat you’re using or be added by you. Keep the smoke point high so things like plain olive oil (not Extra Virgin), bacon fat, or a little butter are best. Save your fancy stuff for something else. This is more utility than anything.

Acid: This will also help keep your soup from just being all one note. Tomatoes make a great acid. As does a splash of red wine vinegar or lemon juice right at the end of cooking.

Umami: Ah that witchy little concept... the X factor of every dish. It’s hard to explain exactly what umami is. It’s a complexity that usually comes from a combination of flavors... think about chocolate and pretzels, and the way those two ingredients bring out flavors that don’t exist when those two things are eaten on their own. Have a look at this list and you’ll know what you’re looking for... bacon, toasted sesame oil, olives, parmesan cheese, miso paste, balsamic vinegar. For savory dishes, it’s usually something aged, brined, or smoked. You get the picture.

Alright... all that out of the way. I’m going to make an example soup from just crap in my pantry. I’ll give substitutions as we go along as well. Another thing you can do is google soup recipes and use this guide to make substitutions. It’s like you’re one of those neural net learning computers! Only with better context clues.

***

Pantry soup:

6 pieces of bacon, cut into one inch pieces (could also be literally any kind of fatty meat... sausage, ground critter. I wanted this to be a mostly veggie soup, so I’m going with this one)

one onion, chopped (could also be some shallots)

four carrots, cubed (could also use some celery here if you have it. I don’t.)

3-4 cloves of garlic

Some white wine... 1/2 cup-ish (for my acid and for liquid... you could totally just use more broth, but a note about cooking with alcohol... there are flavors that are soluble in alcohol but not in water. Use both broth and wine... you get the best of both worlds.)

Chicken broth (enough to liberally cover all the ingredients... this took about 48oz)

one Parmesan rind (or a little Parmesan cheese)

1 14oz can diced tomatoes, juice and all. (Pro tip... rinse the can out with about half a cup of water and dump that into the pot too so you get all the flavor.)

1 bay leaf

1 tsp Italian herbs

1/4 tsp red pepper flakes

salt and pepper

1 14oz can chick peas drained

one cup frozen green beans

3-4 potatoes cut small

spritz of lemon juice.

Things I don’t have but really wish I could add to this: Mushrooms, celery, bell peppers, and fresh spinach. Other possible adds could be frozen corn, frozen peas, sweet potatoes, kale, fresh grape tomatoes (halved), other beans like kidney, cannellini, or great northerns. In a large, heavy bottomed pot or dutch oven, cook bacon until it starts to get some color and most of the fat is rendered. Scoop the bacon out with a slotted spoon. Add onion and carrots and saute until softened. Add garlic and cook for a minute more.

Add white wine and scrape up any bits stuck to the bottom of the pan and allow to cook down by half. Add the broth, bacon, tomatoes, Parmesan rind, and spices. Bring to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes. Taste for salt here. I’d go easy up to now, what with the bacon and the parm. But with the potatoes and the chickpeas coming into the mix, you’re going to want to make sure the broth is well seasoned. Scoop out the Parmesan rind. Add the chick peas, green beans, and potatoes and cook for an additional 30 minutes, or until potatoes and carrots are fork tender (it was closer to 40 minutes for me). Taste again for salt.

Spritz with lemon juice and serve.

#soup #soup recipe #quarantine #quarantine cuisine #food #recipe #vegetarian friendly

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thermopylod · 5 years

Text

Lunch for Two

Souyo, 1.9k words, gen. Yosuke and his mom bond over his attempts at cooking.

Thirty minutes ago, Yosuke had held a pretty optimistic view of the next 24 hours. First, he was going to make a perfect bento with the ingredients he’d picked up at Junes on the way home, with the vegetables cut into pretty shapes and even some little fake grass decorations. Then, he’d get to school early so he could ask Yu to eat together before anyone else got to him. And finally, he’d give him the bento, and with a single look at it Yu would understand all of Yosuke’s feelings. Then they’d spend the rest of the hour making out, taking a break just so Yu could eat the food and declare it to be even better than his own cooking.

That was before. With two bandages on his fingers where he’d slipped while trying to slice the carrots, steak strips that had managed the unlikely feat of being both burned and raw, and even his rice having come out crunchy, Yosuke was beginning to believe the universe was trying to give him a sign about his projected confession, and it wasn’t a good one.

Signs apart, Yosuke actually thought he had a pretty good chance with Yu. It wasn’t so much that Yu had shown any particular interest in him — there had been no blushes, no shy glances or fleeting touches — but rather, it was who Yu had not shown interest in that comforted him. Yu’d been in Inaba almost a year at this point, and he’d become the very definition of the term chick magnet. Every girl in school, and even some outside of it, even grown women, had thrown herself at him, with shy letters and chocolates and even one hastily rebuffed kiss. Yosuke knew this, because every time it happened, the first thing Yu did afterwards was call him up to complain about it. And every time, the story ended the same way: with Yu explaining how bad he’d felt turning the girl of the day down.

Now, Yosuke could understand being picky. He couldn’t empathise; before his feelings for Yu had manifested themselves, he would have accepted any girl who’d so much as hinted at being interested. Not because he was a pervert, as Chie liked to imply, but because he was a hopeless romantic who wanted nothing more than to have someone special to him; so sue him if that didn’t fit his usual carefree attitude. Yu had had his choice of every kind of girl, though, so it wasn’t likely to be pickiness, which meant he clearly wasn’t interested in dating a girl.

That left two options: either Yu wasn’t interested in dating at all, or he was interested in guys. If it was the first option, well, there wasn’t much Yosuke could do there, but he trusted Yu wouldn’t hold his confession against him. And if it was the second… Yosuke didn’t exactly have great self-esteem, but even he knew there was no one was as close to Yu as him. He got to see sides of Yu most people rarely did — bright laughs, sarcastic jibes, quiet admissions of fear or worry — all sorts of emotions he usually kept smoothly hidden behind his impassive silver eyes. So if Yu liked guys, then Yosuke thought there was a pretty good chance that he might be willing to give him a chance.

Except there was no way a half-burnt, sloppy bento with crunchy rice was ever going to manage to carry his meaning across, which would mean he’d have to confess out loud, putting his feelings into words he knew he’d get wrong because he always did, always managed to end up with his foot in his mouth, and Yu wouldn’t understand, and there would be no bright smile and no making out on the roof and no walking home hand in hand.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He still had enough ingredients left to give this another shot; he’d just save the ugly bento for himself. He picked up a carrot and a knife, trying to cut it into more even slices this time.

Then the front door slammed shut and startled him, he sliced his finger a third time, and he screamed in exasperation as much as pain as drops of blood fell onto the cutting board.

“Yosuke?” a voice called out in a worried tone, before hurried footsteps brought his mom to the kitchen’s door. “Honey, are you alright? What are you doing?”

Yosuke shoved his cut finger in his mouth and glared at the spread of food and tools surrounding him, then at her. “What does it look like I’m doing.”

She blinked at the display, and sure, Yosuke didn’t cook very often — or maybe ever — but she didn’t need to gape like she’d found Chie’s pet dog trying to cook dinner, either. Before he could turn his anger over the whole situation on her, she stepped forward to pull his hand out of his mouth.

“Did you cut yourself?”

Yosuke nodded sullenly, and she grabbed the first aid kit that sat nearby on the floor, where he’d left it after bandaging his previous injuries.

“Alright, let’s get that fixed up, and then maybe you can tell me why you suddenly decided to become a chef?”

“I was trying to make a bento for school tomorrow,” Yosuke replied grumpily as she disinfected his cut and wrapped a band-aid over it.

She gave him a calculating look, but the gods must have decided he’d suffered enough for today, because she didn’t ask the question that was obviously burning on her tongue, ut instead started cleaning up the mess he’d made, looking through the ingredients on the counter.

“Hmm… grilled steak strips, vegetables and rice?”

Yosuke gave a short nod. It wasn’t anything special, as bentos went, but even before his culinary failure he’d known better than to expect too much out of himself.

His mom pulled some items out of cupboards, shuffling items around until she had everything set up to her liking.

“First thing, that knife’s no good,” she explained. “I’ve been meaning to get rid of it, but you know how your dad is with throwing stuff away… It doesn’t take a good edge, so for hard vegetables like carrots it tends to slip.” She handed him another knife, one he’d stayed away from because of how large it looked. He’d been, ironically, afraid of hurting himself with it. “This one will be much better. And let me show you how to hold the carrot so you don’t hurt yourself if you slip.”

With his mom’s help, the meal started to take shape, and soon enough the smell of grilling meat — at the right temperature this time, because apparently turning the heat up so it’d cook faster wasn’t a good strategy — was filling the room while a new batch of rice cooked. Yosuke’s optimism was making a good comeback as he tasted a perfectly cooked carrot, and then his mom had to go and open her mouth.

“So, who’s this bento for?”

Yosuke dropped the bowl of vegetables he’d been holding, scattering them across the counter.

“Nobody! It’s for me!”

Which would have been more convincing, perhaps, if his voice hadn’t cracked in the middle and skipped an octave. Or not — his mom seemed to have some sort of Yosuke-bullshit detector built-in. She said it came with parenthood, which seemed entirely unfair to teenage boys just trying to survive.

“...Who do you think,” he muttered.

“One of those sweet girls who came to see you at work the other day?” she asked, and really, only a mom could call Chie a sweet girl, but he passed on pointing that out in favor of shaking his head. His mom hummed as she worked to gather up the vegetables Yosuke had dropped.

“Then… is it a girl I haven’t met? Is she from school?”

“You’ve met them,” Yosuke replied, reticent but well aware she wouldn’t give up until she found out anyway.

Something seemed to light up in her eyes at his words. “Ah… not a girl, then, hmm.” She smiled knowingly, an all-too-perceptive glint in her eyes. “It wouldn’t happen to be your best friend, would it?”

“He’s my partner, mom, not my best friend,” Yosuke huffed. It wasn’t the same thing. Best friends were for people like Yukiko and Chie, or Daisuke and Kou; what he and Yu had went deeper than that. Partners meant standing side by side, always supporting one another; it meant having each other’s backs in life or death situations, and knowing what the other person needed without even having to ask. And ok, maybe Yukiko and Chie had that, too, but what he had with Yu was special, and that was that.

“Partners, huh?” his mom asked. “So are you two…” she trailed off and raised her eyebrows at him.

It took him a moment to understand what she was hinting at, and he shook his head, feeling his cheeks heating up against his will. “No! No. Not… yet.”

Yosuke’s mom reached forward to pick up the little heart-shaped vegetable cutters he’d bought, then placed them in his hands.

“We’d better get back to work, then. This bento’s going to be perfect,” she told him with a fond smile, ruffling his hair before she turned back to check on the grilling steak.

They finished up a short time later, and after the two bentos were securely in the fridge, Yosuke did the dishes while his mom cleaned up the kitchen.

“Do you… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asked half under his breath, barely audible above the sound of running water.

There was no immediate reply, and he thought she hadn’t heard, but after a few seconds she came to turn the tap off and looked at him with a serious expression.

“I can’t tell you that. He’s the only one who can. But, whatever he says, I’m proud of you. It takes a lot of courage and honesty to confess your feelings,” she said, pulling him into a hug. “He’d be lucky to have you, you know — anybody would. You’re a good kid.”

Yosuke blushed, unused to such praise from his mom; they were close, often pranking each other or playing games together, but they weren’t often emotionally open like that. “Thanks, mom,” he mumbled as he turned back to the dishes.

When they were almost done, Yosuke working on the last pot, she came to lean against the counter next to him with a mischievous smile.

“Now, I meant what I said — he’s the only one who can answer your confession. But, just so you know…I’m pretty sure you have a chance. I’ve seen that kid spend 20 minutes hiding by the door at Junes just so he could ‘accidentally’ run into you on your way home.”

“Wait, what?! You never told me that!”

She winked at him. “I also never told him you stalk the security cams to make sure you can go restock whatever aisle he happens to be in, so I think you two are even.”

Yosuke spluttered. “I— I don’t— I never— erghhhh,” he groaned, pulling his shoulders up to hide his flushed face while his mom patted his back and laughed her way right out of the kitchen.

[comments and kudos very welcome on ao3!]

#souyo #fanfic #souji seta #yu narukami #yosuke hanamura #persona 4 #bento time!

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tastyliltina · 5 years

Text

Missing

((AN: here’s a little story I wrote with my girl Kenny at @kuberish‘s Flams! More details in the tags, but I hope y’all enjoy!))

Flams squinted at himself in the mirror. Damn, he’d been pushed around before...but he looked a little too riled. He grabbed a towel hanging to one side of the sink and dabbed off the water he’d splashed on his face. Huffing, the redhead brushed his hands through his bun, and readjusted his hair. He relaxed, his face melding back into its casual, sleepy smile. There. That looked better, though, he leaned forwards and tilted his chin, running a finger along the underside of his eye...the golden sheen his eyes had was dimming. Not to mention the dark circles...bad signs, he’d have to get to bed early tonight.

“What the hell was that?”

“Hm?” his eyes trailed down to the counter. Flams rolled his eyes, smirking at the human settled on the side of the sink. Kenny’s arms were crossed, her lips pulled into a sneer. “What was what?” Flams tilted his head.

“That!” Kenny threw her arms out, as though Flams was to know what she meant. He lifted a brow. Kenny’s hands dropped, and she threw her head back with an agitated groan, running her hands through her small, dark bun. “The-the guy! Who just came in here, pushed you around! What the hell was that?!”

“What, the customer?” he shrugged, “He’s just lookin’ for a tussle. Better stick to being the bigger person,” Flams blinked. Kenny’s expression shifted to a scowl as she thrust a finger at him.

“That’s bullshit!” the human barked. She paced a moment, and Flams couldn’t help but smirk. For such a little thing, she had so much spite and fire in her… He crossed his arms and waited for her to continue. “You don’t-you can’t let people push you around like that! Then, those guys, they don’t fucking stop! The hell, you’re a giant! You’re not-you fucking can’t take that shit!”

“Awwh~,” Flams crooned, lowering himself so he was eye level with Kenny. The dark-skinned woman flinched, olive eyes widening. “Are you...worried about me, toffee?” Chuckling, Flams barely reacted as Kenny lifted a hand and flashed him a very crude hand gesture.

“The hell I am! I’m just-if you get pushed around like that, it-...I could get tangled up in that mess, asshole! Got a hard enough time living with your greedy ass, I don’t need another big fucker bossin’ me around, or tryin’ to grab me every other fuckin’ day because I taste good!” She let out another groan, storming away from him before turning around and approaching his face. Flams crossed his eyes, nose wrinkling as a tiny hand whacked at him. “And that’s for making me worry-!” Flams lifted a brow, and Kenny whacked him again, harder. “Not about you! About me!”

“Hm, well if you’re so worried about him, maybe you should go talk to the guy yourself...yelling at me ain’t doing you much good, is it?”

Kenny huffed, but said nothing while he pulled away from the counter. She stalked along the back of the wooden surface, headed for a little rope ladder attached to the edge. Flams never understood why she insisted on moving around all on her own… But if she wasn’t willing to ask, he was more than willing to remind her she could always hitch a ride. With a chuckle, he reached over to the little human, and snagged her by the back of her tiny sweater. Kenny snarled, kicking her legs as Flams lifted her up and plopped her into his hand. He curled his fingers, barring the brat a chance to run.

“Going my way?” he asked, turning into the hallway.

“I was going back to my place!” Kenny snapped, her voice getting quieter as Flams lowered his hand to his chest. He didn’t miss the feeling of a little fist punching his fluff but chose to ignore it. “And I didn’t need your help!”

Once he reached the entrance to Kenny’s little mouse hole home, Flams knelt and lowered his hand to the ground. As usual, Kenny scrambled out, quick to brush herself off and shoot him a withering glare. Had she been a little bigger than his thumb, Flams might have been intimidated. Instead, he shook his head and rolled his eyes again. “I’m gonna start supper,” he called as he straightened. “Stew with potatoes and beef… If you don’t wanna end up in it, make sure you’re clear before I get myself a bowl, yeah?”

“Fuck off!”

Ah, the sound of her insults made Flams’ heart sing. His special way of knowing Kenny was still alive and kicking… He lumbered to his kitchen, an eye trailing to the only window in his apartment. It’d started snowing...perfect day for stew. Humming, Flams began to assemble the ingredients for dinner. Stock, potatoes, some meat...all chopped and combined with the proper spices in his biggest pot for a good and hardy meal. Perfect for a snowy day…

In hindsight, he should have been keeping a close eye on the ground.. Or anything but the food as he cooked. But, Flams didn’t return to Kenny’s little hidey hole until dinner was finished and he was ready to call her out.

“All right, if you got out all your rage, dinner’s done,” he hummed and wrapped his knuckled against the wall. His eyes trailed the little hole Kenny used as an entryway, waiting for her to step out. She didn’t. Flams frowned, knocking the wall again. Maybe she was being stubborn. Made sense, knowing Kenny...he’d learned that much in their time together. That, and she was very, very prone to smack him.

A few moments passed. No movement. Flams blinked, a hand moving to his chin. “C’mon, Kenny-it’s gonna get cold. You can pout later,” he lowered himself further, face pressed into the floor. His eyes swept over the crawlspace. Kenny was nowhere in sight. Frowning, Flams pulled back and straightened. The hell was she? He turned towards the counter, glancing over them. In his attempt to make catching Kenny easier when he wanted a wiggly snack, he kept them fairly clean...meaning it was easy for him to tell she wasn’t there.

Flams rubbed his neck. Where else did she tend to hide? Normally...the counters were her first go-to. Maybe she was under some of the cabinets? Deciding to be safe rather than sorry, Flams stepped to a counter and opened it. Nothing. He opened another, and another...by the time he’d opened and searched all the counters, Flams felt worry pool in his stomach, swirling and heavy as though he’d downed a tub of lard.

Slowly, he took in a deep breath. If he couldn’t see Kenny, maybe he could sniff her out. He stepped away from the cabinets, hesitated, and took a deep breath through his nose. Gods damn it all, Kenny’s coffee smell was everywhere. Part of the problem with having a human for a roommate...especially one with such a distinct flavor. Flams meandered around the kitchen, sniffing and smelling whatever he could...it did little good. After a moment, he paused, shaking his head. He was...being ridiculous. Kenny-she’d done well on her own for...years, at his best guess. Right? Surely-...surely she hadn’t done anything too brash.

But then, she’d catapulted herself over a pot of hot soup...and ran under his feet to try and get out of getting caught… There was the one time she’d submerged herself in a milk jug to try and hide from him. Flams’ head drooped. The kid was fucked. That was all there was to it; she was fucked, and he’d fucked up. He let out a sigh, bringing his hands to his face.

Wait. He took in another breath and turned towards the door. He sniffed. It smelled fresh, more fresh than any of the other scent trails. His worry began to bubble in his gut. Flams grabbed his doorknob and opened the door. He inhaled. Just as he’d feared, there was a smell of coffee in the air. Faint, but it was enough to get the fire giant in gear. Flams grabbed his coat and boots, continuing his deep breaths. There was a definite path towards the exit of the apartment building.

“God damn it, toffee,” he mumbled, following the smell outside.

~~~

Kenny grimaced as another gust of wind forced her eyes closed, and her face was buffeted with more snowflakes. The snow was a couple inches now, and crunched beneath the soles of her homemade shoes… Surprisingly, leather did not do well in wet conditions. With her arms wrapped around herself, Kenny took another staggering step forward. Where was Dragon’s Den Lane again?

She looked around, hissing as her eyes began to water. Still, she pressed on, hand wrapped around the human-sized potion bottle in her hand. Living in a warlock’s house gave her easy access to a lot of useful magical supplies...so finding a magical sort of laxative wasn’t too out of the question. Kenny liked to keep some of it on hand for Flams, in case they got too friendly with each other, but after the incident this morning felt like a much better use of her resources.

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure why she cared so much about what someone said to Flams. He was a big boy. He could handle himself… Yet something about the way Flams shrugged off the guy as he screamed and barked threats about his home made her stomach churn. For some godforsaken reason, she couldn’t stand just seeing him so...so idle. So calm.

A scowl overtook her face and she stopped to rub at her arms. Right, now wasn’t the time to get lost in her emotions… She was out in the elements now. Needed to keep an eye out for other giants, and most importantly, an eye out for the right direction. Kenny took a moment to puff air into her cupped hands before returning them to her pockets. How far had she gotten from the building? Glancing behind her, Kenny realized a figure was approaching her. Quickly.

She grimaced and looked around for a place to huddle down. Giant already on her tail...figured, with her luck. Kenny whipped around, now headed for a bush. Crouching beneath it sheltered her from the open, and helped block the wind… Still, staying still didn’t help her stay warm. Shivers began to wrack her body, and Kenny drew into herself as she pressed against the bush’s damp wood.

Footsteps rembled the ground, and Kenny struggled to stay balanced. It didn’t take long for the figure’s feet to come into view. Kenny squinted. She recognized those boots… Before she could call out to him, Flams stopped. His shadow overtook the bush, nearly leaving Kenny in complete darkness until his face descended into view. Well, what of his face Kenny could see through the bush branches.

“Thank god…” Heat puffed against Kenny’s quivering form, and a part of her relished it. The other part of her recoiled, glaring up at him.

“The-...wh-what th-...the fuck-why’re you….wh-why are you here?” she hissed, sneering at the redhead. Her shaky voice seemed to alert Flams of something, what it was Kenny had no idea. Regardless, she curled into herself all the more, trying to avoid the wind and elements around her.

“I came out looking for you,” Flams scoffed. Kenny growled, pulling herself away from him. “You didn’t tell me you were headed out…”

“I-I do-don’-don’t n-need to!” Kenny barked. She bit her tongue to try and quell her shivers, but it did little good. A particularly strong gust of wind made them worsen ten fold, and she curled into a ball. Pins and needles were beginning to prick her fingers...Kenny worried if she didn’t move soon, she wouldn’t be able to move at all.

“Alright, we’ll talk about this later...for now,” Flams seemed to shift, and Kenny felt something move close. She yelped, and tried to scramble out of reach, but she couldn’t stop Flams’ hand from closing around her. Despite trying her best to fight him, Kenny’s limbs were heavy...she was so tired, and Flams was so warm. When Flams’ fingers unfurled and let the wind in again, Kenny had to fight the part of her that wanted to burrow into the digits.

Flams’ face hovered before Kenny, and she looked into the eye she could see the best. Around her frazzled and soaked reflection, she saw...an emotion. Something she couldn’t quite place, that she hadn’t seen since she’d been home with her mom. Flams didn’t give her time to ponder the expression. Her gaze jolted down to a set of lips, not an unfamiliar sight, but one that drove a spike into Kenny’s middle.

“N-no, F-Flams-!” she tried to argue, protest, anything to get the big oaf to lower her… It didn’t do any good. Flams’ fingers tilted, forcing her to slide downward and towards the opening of flesh and bone. Even still, Kenny couldn’t help but melt into the warmth of Flams’ maw. As if it was denying her any sense of pride, Kenny’s body slumped into Flams’ tongue when it slid out to collect her. So warm...soft… Her eyes fluttered a moment.

She hardly noticed as the tongue withdrew from the open air, and pulled her back into the living cavern. For once, Flams’ lips closed behind her, sealing her from the usual light his teeth provided...and blocking out the wind from outside. Kenny shoved at the squishy muscle beneath her. It retaliated by sliming up her front, coating her with a hefty amount of drool. Kenny tried to shove it away from her face, only to have the uneven surface glide over her again, ushering her away from Flams’ teeth.

Kenny groaned, collapsing on her front. The muscular floor lifted, squishing Kenny against something hard. She was drenched with more drool, and could feel the bristle-like bumps of Flams’ tongue brushing against her. A low rumble filled the room, something like a purr mixed with thunder...a sign Flams was enjoying her taste. Bastard.

As she was rolled and rocked around Flams’ mouth, though, Kenny began to warm up. Heat began to crawl along her skin, prickling at the cold that had gnawed through her clothes… She didn’t need Flams knowing that. So, she squirmed as best she could, hissing at her giant captor.

“Uh-fucking-FLAMS!” Kenny tried to protest the sloshing and slippery ride she found herself on. Focusing was difficult, though, without a solid and stable position to collect her thoughts. It wasn’t until everything stilled she could formulate a full phrase. “Let me out, asshole!” Her fists pounded Flams’ tongue, squishing and squelching the muscle.

Flams responded without a grunt like sound, the action tousling Kenny’s hair and pitching her forwards. At the least, his lips parted, illuminating the organic cavern around Kenny. She squinted and scowled at the pink, fleshy sight of Flams’ innards… A part of her hated how accurate her mental image of the slobbery room was. Experience did that to a person, she supposed… While the look to the outside was welcoming, fresh air began to invade the space around Kenny, and she hunkered back before realizing what she’d done. She shivered.

Through the gap of Flams’ jaws, Kenny could see the entrance to the hotel. Slowly, she shuffled forward and towards the gap of his teeth. The wind grew stronger, ripping through the warm coating of saliva coating Kenny. She grimaced, though she didn’t have time to move out of the way before Flams’ tongue lifted again, and slid her back to the middle of his mouth.

“Hey!”

“Mh-nod tho fatht…” Flams murmured, his voice rolling around Kenny, thunder clapping through the slobbery rain around her. “Yer nod oudda da woodth…”

She sneered. “Like hell I'm not! I was fine, didn't need your-HEY!” Flams didn't seem to care what she didn’t need, as his tongue lifted again, and flicked...enough power to send her spiraling backwards and into his throat. Kenny didn’t get a chance to fight him this time. She flopped into the opening to his throat, and after a moment’s pause was gulped down with a horribly familiar GLRK.

The trip down was hot, tight, and uncomfortable as always...but soon enough, she freefell from Flams’ throat and plopped into his stomach… It was a dark and dreary room, illuminated by a kind of natural light… The orange hue reminded Kenny of a campfire, and Flams’ always smoky smell only helped further drive the point. She could hear Flams muttering his strange magic, and the air in the room thinned, becoming much more breathable, and far less acrid.

“Like I was sayin’,” Flams’ voice made the room quiver as it boomed around Kenny. “You’re not outta the woods yet… The hell were you thinking, going out like that?”

Kenny huffed. She detected something strange in Flams’ voice… There was his normal, snarky tone-....but something else, too. Something softer. She wrinkled her nose, unsure how to take the new emotion as she replied.

“I was fine, asshat...just gonna show you how it’s done, make you stand up for yourself and not be a pushover.”

Flams was quiet. In the meantime, Kenny got to her feet and staggered to the nearest stomach wall. Once she was settled, she felt Flams shift, heard the muffled noise of keys. Sounded like he was back at his place…. Kenny slouched back into the stomach lining, flexing her now warm fingers. It was good being able to feel them again…

When Flams spoke up again, his voice was quieter.

“Ya’ don’t gotta stand up for me, kid. I’m fine.”

“Like hell you were!” Kenny retaliated. She hesitated, adding: “That wasn’t just for you, either! That guy keeps coming back and pushing you around, he could get me! I was just protecting myself…” Yeah, that was it. She wasn’t doing that all for Flams...right?

Flams was quiet. Very quiet. Then, the floor beneath Kenny jumped, and Kenny snarled. Kenny could barely make out the sound of a laugh bellowing around her.

“HEY, KNOCK IT OFF!”

“Hah-eh?” Flams calmed, and the jumping ceased. “Sorry...but you’re stuck there for a bit… I caught you, so it meets the conditions of our little deal…~.”

“De-...deal?!” Kenny barked. He couldn’t be serious, the deal didn’t include things like this-she hadn’t been borrowing anything! “The hell with the deal! I wasn’t fucking in the house-wasn’t even taking anything!” She balled her fists.

“Never said you had to be in the house~. Just that I had to catch ya. ‘Sides, your little stunt made me almost burn dinner… So, you’re in tum out.”

Kenny sneered, rolling her eyes. Greedy bastard…. Still, she decided to settle back as best she could. Fighting now wasn’t going to get her anywhere, and truthfully, her limbs felt too heavy to try. Around her, the stomach walls churned and pulsed at a slow and relaxed pace. The asshole wasn’t moving any more. Probably resting while he kept her locked up… Kenny scowled, crossing her arms as she leaned back.

A yawn bubbled out of her. In the heat of the moment, Kenny hadn’t realized how much the run outside wore on her. She stretched, rolling her shoulders as her eyes fluttered closed. While she was here, she supposed a nap was in order. This was the only time she didn’t have to worry about Flams making a fucking surprise appearance, have him decide to loom behind her like a shadow. Here, she could relax a little more. Here, no one could bother her...not even Flams. Funny.

“Gettin’ comfy, toffee?”

“Up yours, Red…”

“Mhmm~”

She could almost see the grin Flams was wearing… Stupid, giant, greedy bastard. “Keep the smug act up, see what happens…”

“Ah yes, because I’m so scared of what my tiny little roommate has in store for me~...”

“Flams, I swear to god-”

“Alright alright,” Flams chuckled, and Kenny scowled. “Take your nap...you can come after me after we’re both good and rested, yeah?” “Hmph…” Kenny grunted, rolling over so she could lay against Flams’ stomach more comfortably. “Fuck you, Red…”

Flams said nothing, but Kenny could feel the snarky tone even without a reply. Still, she slouched into Flams and allowed her breathing to regulate. A nap was sounding better by the minute… And during her nap, she could dream all the ways to enact her revenge…

#sobs this is a long one #but it's based in a cute little verse rp we have going w Flams and Kenny!!#and It's a lot of fun ;v;#Flams is...like the one giant Kenny won't gut for eating her-though she'll never admit to that #because Kenny??? have feelings???#no never #pest!verse #putting it there bc it kinda falls into that storyline ajsdkfjH but sobs I loved writing this and ajkdjH #Kenny #she's a brat oml #Flams #Tina writes #extreme cuddling #v ore story #v ore #also the deal Flams mentions at the end #basically an agreement between the two if Flams finds Kenny sneaking food he gets to eat her if that wasn't obvious #she doesn't like this deal but in return she gets to live at his place free...which is great for her when humans are thought of as pests ;w;#so yee #it's a win win really #idk waht else to add but!!! hope y'all enjoyed!!#please rebagel thank

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nicolasnelson · 5 years

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Sizzie fic - Trust These Caring Hands [oneshot]

Title: Trust These Caring Hands Relationship: Lizzie Saltzman/Sebastian Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Lizzie’s POV Words: 1,652

Summary: After Lizzie is injured fighting a monster, Sebastian tends to her wounds and tries to convince her that he really does care about her.

Requested by anon // Prompt: Sizzie oneshot on Lizzie getting hurt by a monster and Sebastian taking care of her.

[AO3 LINK]

The first thing Lizzie became aware of was the fact that Sebastian was carrying her through the woods like some great hero of old. She didn’t remember much about the battle with the monster, only that she was dizzy with pain.

Sebastian walked up the steps of an abandoned cottage. At least she hoped it was abandoned. He set Lizzie gently down on the bed inside.

“Go ahead and make fun of me. I got injured in a fight doing something stupid. Like an idiot. Or a turnip as you would say.”

“I would never make fun of you for getting hurt,” Sebastian said, sincerity in his gaze. “I am concerned for your wellbeing. Believe it or not, Elizabeth, I do care about you.”

Lizzie’s heart swelled. It would be only too easy to believe him, but she couldn’t trust him yet. Her heart was too fragile to give to another right now.

"So you're not going to gloat about how you showed up like some knight in shining armor and rushed me out of there?"

Sebastian chuckled, looking proud of himself. “I might gloat a little. Only because I like being the hero for once.”

“Ha, ha.” Lizzie gave a dramatic fake laugh, but pain shot through her. Her stomach hurt where the monster had slashed her. She clenched her teeth together to stop herself from screaming.

Sebastian was quick to kneel by her side. “May I?” he asked, hands hovering over the edge of her shirt.

Lizzie nodded, biting back the pain.

He rolled her shirt up to observe the gash across her stomach. Sebastian’s touch was gentle, methodical. “I shall need to clean it if you are to avoid the fever. Give me a moment to gather some supplies.”

Lizzie gripped the linen sheets of the dusty bed. She closed her eyes to try to soothe her pounding headache but to no avail. She opened an eye to watch Sebastian standing by the fireplace.

He had a cauldron hanging above the roaring fire and tore off strips from the end of his shirt to soak in the bubbling liquid.

When he returned to her, he rubbed off as much of the blood off her stomach as he could. Lizzie suddenly realized a vampire was tending to her while she was bleeding. “Are you okay? You’re not going to bite me, are you?”

Sebastian’s jaw went tense, and his eyes flicked up to her. “Not if I can help it,” he muttered, then returned to his work.

He pulled out a bottle of whisky and poured it over the wound. It hurt like a bitch, and Lizzie cried out in pain.

“Is that really necessary?” she demanded.

“To avoid inflammation and the fever, yes, very much so.”

Lizzie groaned, gripping the edge of the bed, and stared at the slanted wooden planks of the ceiling. It was just her luck to have Sebastian caring for her with the outdated techniques of the middle ages. She hoped he wasn’t just making things worse.

It wasn’t like she could get anyone else to help her anyways. They were out in the middle of nowhere. Hope and Josie were busy fighting the monster that had injured her. They weren’t in any shape to help Lizzie. She would just have to deal with Sebastian and hope for the best.

“Hold still,” Sebastian warned.

He picked up one of the black rags he’d made from his shirt and wrapped it around her stomach. It was warm to the touch and wet from the liquid in the pot. Lizzie caught a strong whiff of garlic and the clean scent of witch hazel. His movements were slow and careful, not at all what she would expect from a vampire.

He smiled at her when he caught her staring. “Living in the colony of Roanoke, it was practically a requirement to learn how to care for injuries. The natives did not take kindly to our presence there.”

“Did you treat a lot of people in your day?”

“Before I was turned, yes. After, well, the injured became an unexpected feast. I didn’t gain my reputation of being insatiable for nothing, Elizabeth.” The look in his eyes was alluring.

Lizzie felt herself leaning towards him. “Tell me more about Roanoke.” She wanted to learn more about Sebastian, and listening to him talk helped get her mind off the pain.

Sebastian told her about John White, the man who had founded the colony where Sebastian lived. And his granddaughter, Virginia Dare, the first English child born in America. He told her about his past love Cassandra and all that she had done for him, how she’d died after saving his life.

“You must miss her terribly.”

Sebastian nodded. “One would think that in five hundred years, the pain would become easier to bear, but it has not. At least not until recently.” He’d finished wrapping the bandage and ran his gentle fingers along Lizzie’s stomach. “You make my life better, Elizabeth. That’s why I have no intention of feeding on you. A taste might make me abandon reason, and I can’t lose the only person keeping me sane.”

Lizzie propped herself up on her elbows. “Oh, come on. You don’t mean that. I’m just someone you enjoy having sex with.”

“Ah, yes, the copulation is quite pleasurable, but it is more than that, Elizabeth. And I think you know that. You felt the connection when we first met. It’s why you searched for me with your magic, why you told the whole school you were dating me before I’d had the chance to tell you I was invisible to everyone else. It is why we are in this arrangement of copulation and playful banter. One day you will want more from me, and I will be completely willing to give you all of me.”

Lizzie’s breath caught. He always knew how to say exactly what she wanted to hear. It was why she couldn’t trust him, even though she felt the words form in her mind. The acceptance, the joy. The complete giving in to this romance. But she held her tongue and rolled her eyes instead. “You, Sebastian, are too creative with your imagination.”

Sebastian gave her a sad smile. “Forgive me. I did not mean to get carried away.” He stood up abruptly. “You must be hungry. I’ll prepare a meal for you. Why don’t you get some rest?”

Lizzie sighed once he was out of the cabin. It was hard to think clearly with all his pretty words. She let her thoughts drift to the monster. To Hope and Josie. If Josie was seriously injured, Lizzie was certain she would feel it. She wondered if Josie had felt her pain. Were they worried about her?

Sleep was quick to pry Lizzie from her thoughts.

She awoke to the smell of cooked meat and herbs. Sebastian was walking towards her with a bowl in his hand.

“Good evening, Elizabeth.”

She sat up carefully and leaned her back against the wooden wall. “What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the bowl warily.

“Rabbit stew. I made it myself.”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose. Rabbit did not sound appetizing in the least.

“Please eat it, Elizabeth. It will help restore your strength.”

He held it out to her, and Lizzie took it reluctantly. She made a face as she put the bowl to her lips. Tilting it back, she tasted the seasoned broth. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, but it was no chef’s special.

Sebastian sat on a stool beside the bed and waited until she had finished the soup. She slammed the bowl down onto the bedside table, lifting an eyebrow. “Happy?”

“Delighted.” Sebastian grinned.

There was something about him that was just so charming. Lizzie was touched by how he’d cared for her and even gone through the trouble to make a meal. Even if it was made of rabbit. He showed that he truly cared for her, and she believed his actions far more than his sugar-coated words.

Lizzie leaned back on the bed, resting her head on the pillow. “You know, it’s very cold in here. These walls are so thin, and this blanket is like paper.”

“I could heat up coals in the bed warmer.” Sebastian gestured to a long stick with a worn metal pan on the end of it propped against the wall.

Lizzie rolled her eyes, huffing out a laugh. “That isn’t really what I had in mind.” She pushed the sheets down until she could expose her bare leg from underneath her skirt. “I’d much prefer you to be my bed warmer.”

Sebastian’s mouth slid into a smirk. He looked like he wanted to, but he shook his head. “Now is not the time for copulation. I would not like to risk reopening the wound with exertion. You need to rest and recover first. Then, my dear, I promise we shall copulate to our hearts’ content.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” Lizzie patted the bed. “Could you at least join me? We don’t have to do anything.”

“I’d like that very much.” Sebastian slid under the covers next to her and wrapped an arm around her. He kissed her forehead, so soft and gentle.

Lizzie tilted her head up, and they locked lips. A slow, tender kiss, which filled Lizzie with warmth and love. She leaned her head against Sebastian’s chest and interlaced their fingers together.

Sebastian was right. She needed to focus on healing, and then they could find Hope and Josie. Lizzie wasn’t sure how she knew they were okay, but she did.

She felt safe in Sebastian’s arms, even if it was only a temporary reprieve from the battle. They cuddled for the rest of the night, and Lizzie fell asleep on his chest, allowing herself just this once to dream of an epic romance with Sebastian.

#legacies #legacies fanfiction #sizzie #lizzie saltzman #lizzie x sebastian #sebastian #*#my writing #rated T #loved working on this one!#sizzie fanfiction

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